#threads: johnny.

[loveshard]

continued from the smut starter ask meme (@nhuniversity)

johnny wanted to tell this kid to chill. they were all loudmouth and messy with the moaning, practically shouting into the concrete echo chamber—but the way sydney arched and strained backwards was almost admiring. the throb from their ass sent little vibrations up his cock, and every time his hips ground into them, a shudder radiated up his spine, pulling another involuntary thrust out of him. biceps clenched tight around sydney's throat, johnny growled low and just barely eased up, other hand shifting to grip them by the waist. created the perfect arch in their back with each drag back into his body. he didn't usually go this rough unless explicitly asked, but the student seemed to blossom with every smack and push. back bowed, knees just about to give, but he didn't let sydney collapse. his own thighs burned from pistoning in, each connection muffled by the grunts and gasping. "keep it down. you think i want bouncers in here?" johnny whispered with his mouth at sydney's ear, voice gravel-rough and soft at the same time. he clasped his hand tight over sydney's mouth, muffling any other noise that might escape the slighter body, pinning them in place. no one really gave a shit about the basement; it was too dusty, too far from the dance floor, and there were always noises from the pipes and shitty hvac. but still—johnny didn't have a taste for drama. "you're gonna get me damn near banned."

[loveshard]

continued from johnny's open starter (@gotwcird)

"you could, but then they'd dock your pay and make you wear the ears again next year," johnny reminded. he gave his own tank top a tug, as if a few centimeters more fabric would make the whole getup dignified. "that's how they get you. next thing you know, it's a tail." to make matters worse, the fundraiser wasn't even for a good cause. johnny had checked: something about an alumni endowment, a new rec center, a tree. rich people stayed inventing new ways to donate money to themselves. "they could all just write checks and skip the costumes, but then how would the world know they're good people?"

[loveshard]

continued from johnny's open starter (@wristglitter-rps)

Johnny cracked a grin, tugged at the ears again, and wondered if he'd get away with stashing them under a chair before anyone in management noticed. "Keep talking, I'll scratch your shit up with these claws," he teased, wiggling his fingers. They did not look like claws. Just regular hands—broad-palmed, callused from years of hours in the ballroom or the gym. Just then, a cluster of women at the registration table, all in elaborate witch hats, began whispering behind their hands and pointed straight at Johnny and Warrior. The cackling was louder than the playlist, which had already devolved into vaguely spooky club remixes. "How'd you get Spider-Man, anyway? That's not even a cat."