#it’s so sweet and so well thought out and i’m 💓💞💘💞💓💘💘💞💓💞💘💘💝💞💞💕💗💗💗 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetlilbambi · 2 years ago

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SAB OH MY GOSH !! U KNOW HOW MUCH IVE BEEN ANTICIPATING FOR THIS FIC N ITS FINALLY HERE !! N IT DELIVERED !! YOUUUU DELIVERED !! ATE SO MUCH MY WHOLE PUSSY WEEPED !! the combo of sf!johnny + the neighbors trope (that i loved from ur zemo fic, as we both know😵‍💫) + peeping tom + JAKE JENSEN ?? SO GOOD AAAAA IM FUCKING FERAL !! I HAVE SO MUCH THOUGHTS OH MY GOSH I NEED TO SHARE THEM

“Maybe we can teach you one day. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Johnny asks, and you quickly nod your head. You bite down on your lip, and a smile spreads across your face. It’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Y– Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

sir PLEASE. i have three holes! teach me how to suck two pair of balls! pls get on w it!! i need it!! ITS FOR THE PEOPLE!!

“Might have to prepare you first. Not sure if you can handle it,” Johnny continues, and you slyly smirk. “I’m a big girl; I can take it,” you reassure, stepping closer to him under the pretence of looking at his handiwork. “Yeah?” Mr. Storm tilts his head upwards with his word, and you shyly nod. “I think big girls use their words when they want something, no?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH NO WORDS

sorry but if my hot silverfox dilfy neighbor that ive had a crush on for the longest said that to me,, I WOULD SIMPLY MELT ON THE GROUND! literally take me now!! legs spread wide open, pussy wet n gushing,, i want u sir pls im all yours!!!

You let out a huff at his comments, looking away from his large frame that is nearly impossible to avoid. “Don’t tell me you’re upset, peaches. C’mon, you’re breakin’ this old man’s heart,” Johnny says, mimicking faux sadness. You crack a smile when he does before rolling your eyes.

OK HES SUCH A LITTLE SHIT GAHHH BUT I LOVE HIM SO BAD !! I LOVE THIS WHOLE PART PLS I CAN VISION IT SO VIVIDLY!! just imagining u w ur sweet lil pout nd johnny calling himself an old man :’) sobsob im gonna cry this is so!!!!! u write him so freakin well sab i cant i cant

Your carnal taste coats his tongue, and the older man knows he’s found an addiction he will never try to rid of. He drags his wet muscle from your clenching fuckhole, all the way up to your pearl of nerves. “Good girl, such a good little girl. Taking whatever Daddy gives you… That friend of yours trained you well, hm?”

THE WAY HE EATS UR CUNT IS SO <3_<3 catch me daydreaming about it for days !!!!! gah so good ill gladly be his drug <3 legs ready to be spread everytime he needs a fix!! i need him so bad im so ready to just crawl thru this screen and have him for myself

AND THE END SAB OMG !! two hot mfs w big cocks sharing ?? ILL BREAK ILL LITERALLY BREAK !! didnt think johnny wld be nice to share u again tbh but i guess hes just that unpredictable hehe (ruin my hole btw)

i just love everything about this honestly sab, your talent is so freaking unmatched. from start to finish i was hooked by ur beautiful writing and i wish i can just write all my thoughts out and send it to you, but its so many we’ll both explode from reading it! >.< ur always so creative with your writings and the metaphors always hit me in the face so good!! gahh just wanna give u a big big smooch for this nd for all ur future works thats yet to come n know that it’ll all be loved + cherished by me !! YASSSS!! 💖💞🫶🏼💗🌸💕💓💘🥰💕🎀💗💓💕💘💖💞💝💘

𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓—𝒚𝒖𝒎!

summary. | you want to be the object of his affection—for him to give you all his time, touch, money, and attention. it’s a good thing he wants you to be his little lady.

warnings. | smut, smoking mention, pet name usage (peaches), heavy age gap (late 40s/early 20s), Daddy kink, p in v sex, rough sex, oral (f receiving), mild hand job, creampie kink, squirting, praise, degradation, dumbification, dirty talk, public sex, voyeurism (from johnny), mildly unrequited feelings (kinda requited), friends-with-benefits relationship, size kink (cock), mild anal play (thumb in the butt), mention of threesome + f masturbation + exhibitionism + fleshlight usage, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

pairings. | silver fox!Johnny Storm x fem!reader, friends-with-benefits!Jake Jensen x fem!reader, SF!Johnny Storm x other women*

word count. | ~6.7k.

author’s note. | *johnny is implied to still have one night stands until this fic. the habit dwindles when he crushes on the reader. thank you so much @sweetlilbambi for all your help!! ily! tysm @cuttlefjsh for proofreading! ily!!! (my username will soon change to @nsfwsabbie) 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

my taglist. @nsfwlibrary. the playlist.

The fence needs fixing—Johnny knows that. It’s turned grey, and the wood splinters. There’s even a hole between two planks, and conveniently, it’s on the portion shared with his next-door neighbour. You.

Now, he doesn’t mean to be a creep. It’s just that his curiosity gets the best of him, even in this boring suburban community.

Your grunting is loud, and so are your whines. Really, it’s your fault.

Through his sunglasses, Johnny peeks through the hole and catches you trying to set up a poolside chair in nothing but a bikini. The orange fabric reminds him of his powers, and they only come in handy during the summer when someone wants to light their grill up. Maybe even their blunts and cigarettes. Sue doesn’t know about that, though.

“Dammit,” you grumble, dropping the materials onto the ground. You stand there for a few seconds before slowly bending down to pick up the parts again. The heat beating down on you feels terrible, but the intense gaze from your older neighbour is much, much better.

As much as Mr. Storm would hate to admit it, he has quite the crush on you. It’s reciprocated. Obviously. He’s a man that you’d only read about in erotic books or films. Salt and pepper hair, strong muscles, very tall, and utterly charming.

His only flaw is that he won’t act on his feelings, so you have to take matters into your own hands.

Teasingly, you subtly sway your hips. But you suddenly stop when the brightest idea comes to your mind. You’re already proud of yourself for the outcome, and you're leaving your backyard before you can even overthink any other scenarios.

When Johnny sees you abruptly leave, he worries. Did you catch him? Are you going to tell everyone that he’s a pervert? Will he have to defend himself as he’d done when he was younger? Panic arises in him, and he’s frozen in his spot. Until his doorbell rings, his feet carry him over to the entrance before he can even think.

He swings the door open to find you, bright and cheery, with your hands clasped in front of your body. Your arms squeeze together slightly, pushing your tits together until they nearly spill out of the bikini top. Johnny’s gaze lingers on your chest for a few seconds before he clears his throat and looks at your face.

“Hi, Mr. Storm!” you greet, voice full of innocence even though you’re truly the opposite. Johnny knows this, remembering all the little escapades you’ve had with your friend. Jake is a stuttering mess, though he knows you’ve chosen Jensen as your victim because he would do anything you wanted him to do.

And that includes scandalous activities in the backyard just for your neighbour to see.

“Hi, peaches,” he roughly returns, but you don’t falter at his stoicism. “I’m having some trouble setting up my chair… Do you think you can help a girl out?” you ask, bouncing on your feet. Your movements cause your breasts to jiggle slightly, and his line of sight falls there once again.

Johnny’s helpless action isn’t missed by you. “Yeah, do you still have the instructions?” he questions, and you let out a vocalized pause before cheekily nodding your head. Once upon a time, Johnny never cared for instructions.

He’d ignore them and do things his way before terribly regretting it. Now, he’s more than grateful for a set of steps. Though, he’ll always prefer giving the guidance.

“I don’t think you’ll need them, though, Mr. Storm. You’re a very bright man.” Memories filled with articles of Johnny’s space-related smarts fill your mind, and you wonder why people treat him as if he’s an idiot.

His hands motion for you to lead the way, and you’re sure to give him a sight when you do so. The gentle swing of your waist is purely intentional for him. You coyly look back, catching his gaze that lingers on your ass. If you weren’t so close to getting what you wanted, you’d send him a wink.

The walk to your home is quick, and so is the adventure to your backyard. Johnny takes note of the garden, though he’s admired your pretty flowers before. “Your hydrangeas are beautiful,” he tells you, and you give him the sweetest of smiles. “Oh—Aw, thank you, Mr. Storm,” you sputter, not expecting the kind words from him.

It’s not that the Flaming Torch himself is rude—it’s just that he’s quite reserved. At the annual neighbourhood barbeques, he keeps to himself for a few hours before grumbling a goodbye and leaving. His departure always leaves you feeling a tad bit dejected, and now, you find yourself constantly pestering him so that he won’t be so alone in this sickly suburb.

(You choose to ignore the different limping women that leave his house some mornings).

“Please, call me anything but that,” he chuckles, and you tilt your head in curiosity. You’re drenched in it—practically rendering you insufferable in new environments. “Why?” you ask him, now following your neighbour.

Almost like he’s a professional, he starts picking up parts and the pamphlet. “Makes me feel old.”

A comedian. His hair is painted with strokes of grey that are too obvious to ignore. The crinkles around his eyes are mildly deep, and his freckles from the sun are more evident than they were back in his younger days.

(The Playboy photoshoots only hid the more private parts of him).

“So, what should I call you?” you question, and a specific title comes to mind. Daddy. You’re up-front but not that bold to call him it just yet. “Just Johnny,” he simply tells you, and you nod your head even though he can’t see you.

“Okay, Johnny. Can I ask another question?” you inquire, stepping around him so he can face you. Johnny stands up straight, and the paper pages rustle with the light breeze that passes. “You’re awfully curious, peaches, but go ahead,” he urges, reading the first set of steps.

“Why do you call me that?” you ask, picking up the glass of pineapple juice you had set aside. It’s warmer than before but still cool enough to soothe. “Hm?” Johnny hums, not even pulling his focus away from the instructions.

You huff, causing him to raise an eyebrow and finally bring his gaze to you. You push your mildly faux irritation to the side and hand him the drink. He thanks you under his breath in a mumble. “Peaches. You always call me that. Why?” you question, bouncing on your feet again.

This time, your hands are clasped behind your back, and the action is unintentional. Pure habit.

“Just what I came up with, I guess,” he tells you, though he sounds so unsure of himself. In his mind, he tells you that you’re as sweet as a peach. One that he’d like to eat up and never spit out. “Oh… Okay.”

Johnny knows you don’t buy his words, and he’s happy you don’t pry. He feels so terrible for having affection for you—for having such vivid and vicarious thoughts about you. But at the same time, Johnny has no shame or regret because he knows you don’t mind it. In fact, you welcome any amount of attention he’ll give you. Despite the standoffish attitude he presents, you never leave him be.

He’s not sure why he keeps those girls around when he could have you. Perhaps the older Human Torch is too afraid to let go of his old ways and make a jump for you. But he still tries.

Like when he wears nothing but a pair of jeans when repairing his fancy cars. They’re vintage, and he treasures them as much as he does your adoration, right in his heart.

“I think you were trying too hard, peaches. Don’t you?” Johnny asks, and the question seems almost accusatory. “Uhm… Sorry? I don’t follow,” you tell him, worried that you’re about to be embarrassed for lifetimes to come.

“The chair. It’s pretty simple, but I’m sure it’s not your fault you don’t understand. Little sluts like you don’t use their brains much, hm?”

“...Huh?”

Johnny raises an eyebrow at you, and you mentally curse yourself for forgetting your manners.

“Sorry. Sorry?” The older man chuckles at your words, slotting a bar into the hole meant for it. It takes strength, though, and his biceps bulge from the struggle. You try your hardest to not let your jaw fall slack as you marvel at the largeness of his muscles. “I said, it’s not your fault you don’t understand. These instructions were worded weirdly.”

You let out an ‘oh’ at his words, even though you know that he said something different. Something flirtatious and perhaps a little mean, but it doesn’t matter because you—holy shit, your crush just flirted with you.

If Jake—your sweet Jakey—was here, you’d ask him to pinch you. He’d hesitate at first but would grab at your skin nonetheless because he’d do anything for you. It’d hurt like a bitch, but it’d be confirmation that while you are living the dream, this is pure reality.

“Think you can get it done in time?” you question, your plans now the last things you care about. Who needs to daydream about your crush under the sun when he’s standing right before you? “Of course. I’m really good with my hands, y’know,” Johnny smiles, plucking the sunglasses out of his pockets.

He puts them back, though, and finally lets you see his lust-filled gaze instead of his usual shades.

“That’s good to know. I can ask you for help with other things!” you cheer, stepping back when he moves near you to grab another pole. “Really? That friend of yours doesn’t help?” Johnny questions, and a memory from the other night comes flooding back.

It was the loud groans that piqued his curiosity. For Mr. Storm, it was a lonely Friday night when he watches a movie and drinks beer. But for you, it was something else. He looked out the window, only to be greeted by the sight of you on your knees and your dear friend, Jake, bobbing your head up and down. Your gags were almost as loud as his sounds, if not more.

Johnny’s cock immediately hardened within the confines of his boxers. He had palmed himself but didn’t dare to stroke his length, worried that he’ll be caught. Worried he won’t be able to hold back afterwards. Eventually, you ceased the tiny bit of control and let your best friend fuck your face. Johnny wanted to be Jake at that moment—he wanted to ruin you that way.

But then, you pulled off for a breather. And you made eye contact with him. And winked. And went straight back to slobbering on Jake’s thick cock.

“Oh, Jake? He does! He just lives a bit far, so I can’t call him for every little thing, y’know?” you tell him before picking the cup back up and offering it to him. Instead of taking it from you, Johnny leans down and catches the straw between his lips, drinking up the remainder.

You stare at him simply and watch as he returns to his full height while smiling at you. “It’s as sweet as you,” he says, setting the frame of the chair down. He carries it like it weighs nothing. “Really? How do you know that?” you tease, tilting your head to the side.

“I just do.”

“Hm… You know, my friend Jakey said something like that before.”

Your words have Johnny’s nostrils flaring. He’s sure Jake’s repeated his words in some variation—some different context. And he’s sure Jake has tasted what’s between your legs.

“I’m sure he has.” Johnny hums, looking down at the now fully put-together chair. “Yeah, you should meet him! I’m sure you guys would get along pretty well. I think you have at least one thing in common with him,” you tell Johnny, and he smirks. He knows what you’re playing at. “Any specific ideas, peaches?” he asks, crossing his arms.

He’s more engrossed in you and this conversation than he is with the chair.

“Uhm… I– I don’t know. I was just saying that hypothetically, y’know?” you nervously ramble, suddenly void of your confidence. “You sure about that?” Johnny questions, taking a step closer to you. He drags his feet as a technique to make him seem suave. “...Uh-huh…” You’re practically starstruck, stuck in one place with a slacked jaw.

“If you have something on your mind, you should say it. I won’t judge,” Mr. Storm urges, raising his eyebrows to tempt you. “What do Jake and I have in common?” Saying your friend’s name seemed like it would scorch his tongue at first, but it truly isn’t that bad. “...Fixing stuff?”

You both curse in your minds. You chide yourself for your words, whereas the older man frustratedly sighs from your apprehension. To make the first move is scary for you, he knows that, but he just wishes you could be honest with him. He wishes he hadn’t gotten so wise and still carried that fearlessness he did when he was in his twenties and setting fire to the sky.

You hope that you’re picking up what he’s putting down and that what he’s saying is the dirty fantasy filling your mind.

You let out a gasp and are sure your bikini bottoms are soaked. Sticky with your arousal and perhaps a shade darker, too.

Johnny puts down whatever it was in his hands and stalks his way closer to you. Your eyes wander down his body and remain stuck at his crotch. His hard cock is tattooed against the fabric of his shorts—letting you see almost every detail. True to the limps of his female companions and your fantasies, Johnny is huge.

“C’mon, peaches. Use your words. I know how badly you want it—how badly you need it.”

Despite his order, you’re still dumbfounded. Morsels and mere pieces of words escape your mouth, but nothing like sentences and admittances come. “Speechless, huh? It’s okay. I do that to most little girls like you,” he husks, and the mention of other women has you pouting. Johnny chuckles at your jutted-out lip, reaching up to play with it before you quickly pull it back in. “Y– You knew I had feelings for you?!” you ask in a shocked tone, placing your hands on your hips.

The older man nods his head, and it’s practically comedic how you gasp even louder.

“And you never did anything until now? You just let me embarrass myself?”

Johnny chuckles, “I like playing around with you, peaches. And it wasn’t embarrassing or anything like that. It was cute.”

“So…” you hum, pulling up the straps of your bikini top. Johnny watches as you adjust your tits, not even caring about his ogling anymore. He stays silent, simply raking his gaze up and down your body before lingering on your face. He locks eyes with you at first, and then he looks at your lips.

Your beautiful, soft, kissable lips. He’s fantasized about them more times than he can remember. And now, they’re almost as close as he’s wanted them to be. Almost.

Johnny leans in and captures his mouth with yours. He kisses you with fervour and passion, and all things synonymous. Like a puzzle, your lips fit together perfectly. His tongue swipes blindly, asking for entry, to which you happily comply. Mr. Storm explores the inside of your mouth with his wet muscle, making out with you like it’s his new favourite hobby.

Both of your eyes are shut, and the wet sounds fill the silence that was there for only a few seconds. On instinct, you stretch your hands up to grab Johnny’s biceps while rubbing your thighs together. The aching feeling in your core is more adamant than ever—especially with such proximity.

The older man’s breath hitches, and your heart starts to beat even more rapidly. You squeeze his strong muscles, and he loses it right there and then. Johnny pulls away from the kiss, lips swollen and wet like yours. His large hands find your hips, and he grabs them, pulling your lower half closer to him.

His hard cock is pressed against your body, and your clit throbs at the feeling. “Think it’s gonna fit, peaches? Your little pussy might not be able to handle it….” Johnny says, but you, in all your obedience and desperation, nod your head and let out a little whine.

You can recall having difficulty fitting Jake inside of any of your holes without a good amount of preparation at first. It makes you impatient, but it’s always worth it.

“Don’t be a brat and listen to me—I can already see your little mind working hard. You couldn’t handle it without a little stretch at first, baby. I’m the smart one here, okay? Let Daddy do what he needs to do.” Johnny husks in a voice that is lower than his usual one. His near-condescending tone and words have you whimpering, and he smiles down at you.

But then, you falter.

He heard you, just as you had intended.

The plan was something you saw in a porno, something that could’ve gone wrong, but clearly, it’s gone so right. You left the window in your bedroom open—the one right across Johnny’s house and above your bed. You had a mirror in front of your mattress and made sure to give him the best show.

You touched yourself, with only him on your mind, and even let your noises run wild.

“You're such a little slut. Touching yourself to the thought of a man almost twice your age? Dirty, dirty girl. But you’re my dirty girl, right?” Johnny questions, briefly forgetting the existence of one Jake Jensen. You grin widely. “‘M yours and Jakey’s. There’s enough of me to go around, Daddy.”

Johnny scoffs almost playfully before grabbing you with ease and placing you on the outdoor recliner. You gasp at his casual display of strength, staring at him as he slots himself between your legs. You part them involuntarily, still in awe of many things that trace back to the Human Torch.

“Maybe I don’t like sharing,” he whispers with a wink. “Maybe you’ll have to learn how.”

Johnny admires how you have some kind of retort for him most of the time. It’s a trait he still has—especially since he’s used to little brats like you.

The older man grabs at the waist of your bikini bottoms, slowly pulling them down. The sight he’s met with can’t even be rivalled by the best art pieces in the world. Your wet folds glisten in the sun, and he coos at the subtle swollenness there is to them.

Large, rough hands grab at your inner thighs, and he massages the skin, teasing you slightly. “Daddy…!” you whine out, yet flustered at the contact. Smirking, Johnny raises a playful eyebrow at you.

He knows that his memory won’t do you justice later on, yet he still makes a motive to savour this moment as best as he can. Johnny doesn't waste time in latching his mouth onto your aching clit. With utter skill, he sucks on your swollen nub and basks in the moan you let out.

“Fuck—ohmygod,” you rush out, getting cut off by another one of your sounds. Johnny flicks his tongue on your clit, enjoying how your legs twitch when he finds its most vulnerable place. You reach down and tangle your fingers between his buzzed, grey hair. The feeling against your fingers is incredible, but it isn’t as lovely as the pleasure that blooms at your core.

Johnny watches you squeeze your eyes shut as he tortures your pearl with his tongue. Your wetness soaks his beard, but he doesn’t mind it at all. “Gonna stretch this pretty cunt out, peaches. Gonna make my cock fit in this little hole,” he says, pulling away from your pussy momentarily.

He dives back in, drinking up the wetness that drools from you. His facial hair scratches at your sensitive folds, but you don’t care. Johnny’s wet muscle works at your hole, just the tip dipping inside before he returns to your poor little clit. He grunts and moans against your cunt, and the vibrations have you crying out the title that you’ve so rightfully given him.

Two digits dance their way to your pussy, and they swirl around your folds. Johnny pulls away and spits on your swollen folds, rubbing it in with his fingers before pushing them into you. The wet, squelching noises are almost as loud as you are. Like an expert, he scissors your cunt open and strums your clit until you can feel that sensation building.

Johnny eats you out like a starved man, not once pulling away from your core. Your pornographic moans are enough to make his cock throb in the confines of his blue shorts. “You like that, peaches? You like it when Daddy eats this pretty pussy?” he questions, and his words push you closer to the precipice of your orgasm.

“Uh-huh. L– Love it so much, daddy.” Your words are broken apart before they end or dragged out longer than their original state. That pathetic neediness in your tone has Johnny growling into your swollen folds, and he pushes you into your climax.

When you come undone, you’re near-violent. Jake’s been away on business for a few weeks now, and you’ve promised to deny yourself whenever a familiar ache would rear its vibrant head up. You’ve almost forgotten how good it is to feel the touch of someone so skilled—especially on your poor pussy.

“That’s it, give Daddy your cream—fuck. Love watching you come like a whore on my tongue. You taste so sweet, baby.” Johnny pulls his mouth away from your cunt briefly, fucking you with his fingers and giving you quick licks to your throbbing clit.

He pulls you through your orgasm from the other side, not once letting you be free of his assault. An answer full of hums and pauses is on the tip of your tongue. But the thoughts in your mind go from coherent to pornographic. “‘M Daddy’s good girl,” you pant, your hardened nipples poking through your bralette.

Johnny presses against your sweet spot with the tips of his fingers. The digits are soaked all the way down to his knuckles. “Yeah, you are. You’re also Daddy’s filthy whore—letting an older man eat your pussy where your neighbours can spy on us. You get off on that shit, yeah? Such a slut—my slut,” Johnny spits, and your back arches off the chair.

You affirm his statements with garbled words and high-pitched moans. Your lips are wet with saliva and raw from your teeth. Involuntarily, you begin to gyrate your hips to follow the circles that Johnny makes on your clit with his tongue. He pushes your hips back down with his other hand and tsks at you. “Let Daddy take care of his cunt, peaches.”

His words alone have you moaning. “P– Please, Daddy… Wan’ another one…” you plead, and he chuckles against your pussy. “Greedy, greedy girl,” he chides, but he listens to you anyway. Johnny torments your core with his mouth and fingers. He picks up the pace of his fingers and sucks on your clit even harder.

Suddenly, you’re tumbling down into an unexpected climax. You cry out his title and squeeze your eyes shut, revelling in the blissful feeling that takes over your body. “Yeah, soak my face, peaches,” he urges—no, demands. He drinks up the arousal that leaks out of you, coaxing every drop from you with his powerful ministrations.

Your heart clamours in your chest as you come down (albeit slowly) from your release. You’re so exhausted, but when you’re reminded of what’s happening, newfound energy reveals itself from the cracks and crevices of your body. You look down at a smirking Johnny Storm, whose mouth and surrounding skin are covered in your creaminess. The sight has your breath hitching.

Slowly, you pull him to sit up further and press kisses to the same lips that were wrapped around your pearl. Johnny nearly gets caught up in the kiss until you touch his raging cock. He hisses from the contact, pulling away from your mouth with a smirk. “Naughty girl…”

“No… I’m a good girl!” you counter with a whine, mischievously smiling as you reach into his shorts. When you wrap your hand around his cock, you’re not surprised that your fingers barely meet. You’ve admired his largeness when he’s ditched underwear—shamelessly so. “Jus’ want your cock, Daddy.”

Johnny quirks an eyebrow, your words going straight to his head. Your other hand pulls down his pants, and he helps you when you start to struggle. In his full glory, you can admire one of the things you’ve fantasised about for far too long.

Your crush’s cock is thick and lengthy, enough to make the breach hurt and reach the dizzying spots inside of you. Johnny's member is a vibrant red colour, dark with lust just like his hazy eyes. Your mouth salivates at the thought of taking him down your throat, but you know it’ll require some training.

So you settle for stroking him. You spit a wad of saliva onto his girthiness before using it as lube to stroke him. Your movements are slow at first, but his moans are resounding nonetheless. “Fuck, peaches,” Johnny groans, tossing his head back. A smile creeps onto your pretty face, and he returns the grin.

“Your cock is so pretty, Daddy… Just like I imagined,” you giggle, dragging your hand from base to tip. Beads of precum drip from the slit of his cock, and you have half a mind to lick it up. Before you can even do so, Johnny rips your hand away. “Did I do something?” you ask, worry and insecurity filling you up.

“I’m too impatient. I need to fuck your little cunt now,” Johnny rushes out, and you sigh out of relief. He manhandles you into his desired position, bent over in front of him. Your bikini top disappears with a pull, and so does his shirt.

You turn your head to look at him, marvelling at his body. He’s just as hot as he was when he was younger—and most definitely more. “Such a perfect pussy…” he mutters under his breath, and you grow shy from his words.

You wiggle your hips slightly, silently begging for his cock. Johnny beams at your eagerness. “Please, Daddy? Need your cock so badly,” you plead, wetness staining your inner thighs. Johnny gently shushes you, grabbing the base of his cock and slapping your clit with the fat tip. You jolt and moan from the action.

Slowly, he drags his cock up to your sopping fuckhole, and the head catches. Your breath hitches and Johnny lets out a sigh. He gently pushes into your cunt, groaning as your warm, wet walls hug him in a lovely welcome. The cry you let out is wrangled and pornographic, and it’s music to his ears.

“Fucking shit.”

Squelching sounds and your sweet little noises are all he can hear. His thickness stretches you out, and the burn is utterly delicious. It feels like an eternity has passed when he finally bottoms out. Johnny is deep inside your pussy, and you’ve been filled to the brim with his cock. “Daddy!” you whine when he angles his hips and finds your sweet spot.

You see more stars than a telescope, and your poor bottom lip gets pulled between your teeth for the nth time. “Fuck, your pussy is so tight, peaches. So tight and perfect. Made for me to do whatever,” Johnny spews, and you nod your head while moaning loudly.

The arch in your back is mean, and you reach behind you to pull the skin surrounding your pussy. Johnny curses as you reveal your untouched rosebud. He’s sure you want to stretch it out—sluts like you always do. “Are you gonna ruin my pussy, Daddy?” you question in a teasing tone, desperate to get a rise out of him.

“Fuck, yeah. And you’re gonna stay there and take this dick like a good little girl,” he tells you, chuckling when you clench around his cock from his vulgar words. Johnny begins to pump in and out of you, mimicking his learned and practiced movements.

The fleshlight he’s used since he met you is nothing like your cunt, yet he’s determined to fuck you with the same brutality he’s used to.

Your moans are mildly muffled, your face pressed against the chair. Each of Johnny’s thrusts makes your body jerk, his ruthlessness unlike anything you’ve experienced. “Daddy… S’good…”

“I know, peaches. This cunt is perfect for Daddy to use.”

Your eyes roll back into your head at his sentence. His heavy balls slap against your sensitive clit, adding more pleasure to the heaven-sent feeling between your legs. The tip of Johnny’s cock nudges against your sweet spot, and he pulls guttural moans out of you like no other. “It’s a good thing I tasted this pussy and stretched her out. She’s so tight. But she’s doing so good for me.”

Johnny isn’t really talking about your snatch when he utters his last seven words. He’s trying to sing praises, but he’s caught up between wanting to degrade you and being speechless from how lovely you feel. Soaking his dick and squeezing him like a vice. “You’re such a good girl—such a good slut.”

Nodding your head, you squeeze your eyes shut from the intense feeling of Johnny. He’s so deep, and each drag and slam of his hips sets your nerves on fire. Like cheap rope, they burn with ease as the flame spreads quickly.

“‘M your good girl, Daddy! Your li’l slut,” you whine, and you feel as though your breath has been knocked out of you. “That’s right. Looks like I didn’t fuck all the thoughts out of that brain yet. But I bet you go dumb easy, right? Yeah, can’t wait to see those eyes all empty and this cunt full of cum,” Johnny spits, punctuating each word with a push of his hips.

A smile spreads on your lips, and Johnny knows you’re a goner. “You gonna come around Daddy’s cock, baby? Hm? Cream on it and make a mess? Maybe I should get you to clean it up after,” he husks, rutting into you like an animal that was once caged and has now been set free.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you babble, and the thought of tasting yourself on Johnny’s dick has you spasming around his member all of a sudden. You squeeze him tightly and cry out a weakened version of his title, coming undone for him once more. “Shit—good girl, so good for Daddy. Lookatcha, all stupid for my cock. Didn’t even ask for permission.”

His words have you garbling apologies that are nonsensical. True to his words, you’re all stupid and thoughtless.

“It’s okay, peaches. Daddy’ll punish you later. Think this little fuckhole can handle a little bit of bullying? Or am I being too mean to her already? I guess I am. Maybe that’s why she’s crying so much for me.”

Johnny stops speaking, and all you can hear are the loud, lewd wet noises from your cunt. You know that his thick member must be glistening by now. “You hear that, peaches? Hear how soaked Daddy’s pussy is?” he taunts, and the sounds that takeover are skin on skin.

To simply put it, you’re cockdrunk, high off the drug that is Johnny’s dick. Your mind is cloudy, and you’re stuck in a haze that you truly don’t want to leave. You can’t even speak, only capable of crying, whining, and moaning.

“Fucked dumb already, slut? Shh… It’s okay. Daddy’ll do all the thinking for you. Just keep taking Daddy’s dick and staying pretty.” Johnny urges, reaching one of his hands down to your poor clit. He begins to rub it while his cock strokes your inner walls, kissing your sweet spot every now and then.

Your limbs jerk every now and then, your body leaking over the brim with euphoria when you’re suddenly tumbling into another orgasm. Your cunt hurts, but the feeling is too good for you to beg him to stop. Perhaps the pain even adds to the pleasure.

“Such a bad little slut… Didn’t ask for permission again, huh? Looks like you jus’ wanna get punished, hm? Might as well do it now…” Johnny ponders aloud, and his gaze falls to your little rosebud. He’s been staring at it nonstop, to the point where he could still picture it days from now. “Do you want Daddy in both of your holes, peaches? Hm? I know you’ll love it. You’re such a needy little thing.”

His words cause you to moan and clench around him. Johnny’s flushed cock is covered in tinted slick, shiny beneath the bright sunlight. “Uh-huh-uh-huh! Wan’ it so bad, Daddy.” You’re not even sure what he’s going to do, but what you do know is that Johnny can have you any way he wants, no matter what. “Good girl—so good for Daddy.”

Johnny’s hand—once on your hip—travels up to his mouth, and he pushes his thumb past his lips. He lathers the digit in spit until it’s perfect enough. His thrusts slow down briefly, and you let out a whine that has him chuckling in turn. He pulls it out with a pop before puckering his mouth up and spitting.

A wad of saliva lands right on your puckered hole, and he uses it as a lubricant to stretch the tight muscle with his thumb. Jolts of intensity ride up your spine, and your eyes roll back into your skull as Johnny penetrates your ass with his thumb. “Fuck…” you whine out, immediately adoring the foreign feeling.

It’s an intrusion that you welcome with open legs. Your nails dig into the skin that surrounds your precious, defiled holes. The older, far more experienced man begins to fuck into you again, and the thrusts mixed with his thumb hooked inside your rosebud have you wailing. “Fuck—Daddy! Oh, gosh…”

“See? Isn’t it so much better when you’re where you should be? Underneath a man who knows how to fuck dirty sluts like you.”

You nod your head as your tits beg to be played with. You ignore them, though, too caught up in how Johnny’s claimed your body. He rams into you with force and accuracy—skill, most of all. It’s almost too much, though.

His powerful thrusts, thumb stretching your ass, fingers rubbing your clit, and the filth he spews without relent. The combination makes you feel something intense—something you’ve felt a lot with Jake but not so much when you’re alone. “Oh– Daddy!” you cry out.

You’re shaking with leisure as your cunt spasms, squeezing Johnny’s cock and not letting him go. In turn, he forces another orgasm out of you, cursing wildly when streams of liquid flow out of you. Each drag of his cock comes with a spurt, and he even slaps your clit to prolong your climax. Garbled curses leave your mouth after a silent scream. You’re so glad that your home is the last in the neighbourhood’s row before the long walk to the bus stop. No one can hear you, only those who decide to be peeping toms.

“Fucking shit, peaches. Yeah, make a mess on daddy’s cock. Such a good little slut. What are you, baby?”

“I– I’m Daddy’s good l– little slut,” you slur, mindlessly repeating what Johnny says. You squirt all over him, leaving the older man’s cock dripping in your arousal. His entire cock has been soaked, even down to his swollen, heavy balls. “Yeah, you are. And you’re all stupid, yeah? Not one thought in your brain ‘cause Daddy’s fucking you so good.”

The spurts lessen in size until you’re just squeezing Johnny’s cock. The tightness is better than anything he’s ever felt. Hot fire, similar to the summer’s hot weather, fills you and the older man. He swears he’s never letting you go after this—never neglecting you ever again. “‘M Daddy’s stupid little girl…”

Your words make him groan loudly, and his thrusts begin to grow sloppy. His cock slips in and out of you with utter ease, but he doesn’t dare to leave your perfect pussy.

“Daddy’s stupid little girl, yeah… Bet you love cum as much as you love cock. You’re a little cumdump for your friend, aren’t you? Yeah, I bet you beg for him to give you his seed every fucking day. You're gonna learn to take my load, peaches. You’re gonna love it.”

Rapidly, you nod your head. It’s almost as if he knows you entirely even though you’ve done most of the nonsensical rambling that he seemingly would ignore.

“Mmm… Love it so much, Daddy. Wanna be your li’l cumdump… Wan’ you to fill me up with your cream, please. Please, Daddy! I need your cum so badly…” you beg, and it might just be the most obscene thing Johnny has ever heard. “Fuck—fuck—fuck.”

His thrusts suddenly cease as he forces himself deep inside you, pushing as far as possible. Johnny lets out a guttural moan and slips his thumb out of your ass. He looks down and watches the hole gape slightly, making him swear loudly.

Ropes of sticky, white cum fill you up. The warmth that blossoms inside makes you smile faintly before you bite your lips and wiggle your hips. You grind back on Johnny’s cock, and his hands are quick to grab your splayed ones. “Don’t be a bad girl, peaches,” he warns. You let out a simple giggle.

Creaminess spills out from the sides of Johnny’s fat cock, unable to stay inside your stuffed-cunt.

Slowly, Johnny pulls out and leaves you a stretched-out, leaky, needy mess. You bring your arms forward and brace up on them, looking back at the Human Torch with a mischievous look on your face.

“You did so well, baby. You’re such a good girl—my good little girl.”

With a smirk, you challenge his words. “Really? Your good girl? What about poor little Jakey? You can’t do that to him…”

“I can steal you away if I want to, peaches. And I know you want that as well. But you’re right, it’s a bit rude,” he says with faux sadness, but you can’t see through his facade. “Wai–”

“I guess it’s only fair if I let him have you one last time. Sharing is caring, after all.”

#love this so bad #fav fav fav #johnny <3 #bambi’s sweet baby sab <3 #bambi’s fic recs

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