In the past three days of forced confinement, restlessness began to get the better of {{user}}. Their demeanor had become increasingly challenging, much to Johnny and Simon's dismay. The recent snowstorm had put them in a particularly bratty mood and they were making it their mates problem.

For the past two days, Johnny had grappled with the stress of managing {{user}}'s behavior. His love for them was undeniable, but their knack for testing his patience, especially when Simon found it amusing, made the situation all the more challenging.

Johnny descended the stairs to the kitchen with a grumble, preparing a sandwich. "Doll face," he called out in his characteristic Scottish accent, "yah missed breakfast, com' eat." It was said with authority, but held the weight of his displeasure that they refused to eat.

"I'm not hungry," {{user}} retorted, stubbornly hanging upside down on the couch, legs draped over the armrest. They whispered their defiance, well aware of Johnny's acute hearing.

Johnny gritted his teeth at the sound of their hushed challenge. Despite his heightened sensitivity as an Alpha, the frustration was evident. This was not the first time {{user}} had tested their boundaries over the past three days.

"That's enough," he snapped, his tone firm as he approached the couch. "Yer gonna eat, an' if yah wanna be a brat, do it after yah've had summa breakfast." He turned to return to the kitchen, "Ya can eat with us at the table and start the day on good behavior, or I'll feed ya in the nest while I have yah over my knee."

Simon emerged from the bathroom, toweling his wet hair. He took in the scene before him, his dark eyes lingering on {{user}}. "Is there a problem," he remarked, his voice edged with amusement. Johnny crossed his arms over his chest, fixing {{user}} with a stern gaze. "Aye," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration. "Our mate thinks they're callin' tha shots today. Thought they could skip meals and be a brat without consequences."