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lilithlinen · 1 month

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"Daddy" - Tex Johnson x You

Requested by @sunnythebunny7 ❤️❤️I couldn't sleep last night thinking about your request😂❤️.

WARNING: If you're uncomfortable with the 'Daddy kink' don't proceed.

You're laying on the couch, curled up under a blanket watching tv and holding onto one of your plushies for comfort while Tex is away, he said he is on his way, but he hasn't arrived yet. Then suddenly, you hear footsteps, and you sit up thinking it's Tex. "Tex?" you asked softly.

The door opens, and to your surprise, it's not Tex. Instead, it's one of his colleagues, laughing and holding a large Sanrio plushie. He tosses it to you, mocking, "Look at our little baby, still holding her stuffed animal!"

You look stricken, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Your eyes well up with tears, clutching your plushie tightly. Tex's colleague snickers, invoking memories of past incidents where you had been made to feel weak and childlike.

The colleague continues to tease you, commenting on how you should be embarrassed about your collection. "At your age," he smirks, "you should have outgrown this kind of thing."

You try to defend yourself, your voice shaking. "They...they help me cope. When things get hard..." you trail off, unable to continue. The hurtful stares and condescending laughter leave you feeling like a small child again - a helpless, vulnerable target for others' amusement.

Meanwhile, Tex returns from his errand, hearing the commotion. He storms into the room, taking in the scene before him. His face darkens as he fixes the colleague with a cold stare. "You wanna apologize," he growls, making his displeasure known.

The colleague laughs it off, dismissing Tex's anger. "Calm down, buddy. It was just a joke."

But Tex isn't backing down. His hands clench into fists, and his voice drips with menace. "This ain't a joke." He steps closer to the man, his eyes never leaving the intruder. "You don't know what kind of pain this young lady has been through, and you have no right to belittle her coping mechanisms. If you don't watch your tongue, I swear I'll break it for you."

"This," he says through clenched teeth, "is someone I care about." His gaze shifts back to you, softening slightly. A protective fervor burns in his eyes. "You touch her again, and we'll see if you're laughing then."

The tension in the room hangs thick in the air. The colleague hesitates, sensing Tex's unrelenting aggression. Finally, he relents, offering a begrudging apology, "Alright, alright. Sorry, kid. I didn't mean any harm."

Tex nods, satisfied if not entirely pleased. "Good. Now get out."

Once the colleague leaves, Tex turns back to you, offering you a reassuring smile despite the tense situation. Those dark eyes seem to promise safety, a shelter from the harsh world outside. With a hand lightly brushed across your cheek, Tex murmurs, "Don't listen to them, kiddo. They don't know shit."

He glances at the Sanrio plushie lying forgotten near you, picking it up gently and inspecting it carefully. A playful glint appears in his eyes as he adds, "Besides, I think this one's kinda cute. Reminds me of something."

You sniffle, wiping away your tears and holding the plushie close. "It's just...embarrassing. They make me feel like I'm weak, or immature."

Exasperation mixed with fondness colors Tex's deep timbre. "You ain't weak, sugar. Far from it. Just...different than most. Don't let 'em make you doubt who you are." He says, cupping your chin tenderly.

His fingers trace along your jawline, tracing delicate bone structure. As his thumb strokes over your quivering lip, Tex continues, "You give me head like no other, sweety. So experienced, so skilled. What about that is childish?"

Your lips tremble, relief washing over you at Tex's defense. You manage a faint smile and blush deeply.

His fingers trace imaginary patterns on the plushie's fabric, his grin becoming wicked. "Well now, aren't you the lucky one. Daddy's here to protect you. From monsters and rude men alike."

He lifts an eyebrow, a lascivious gleam entering his eyes as he compares the plushie to its supposed inspiration. "But hey, sweetheart...why stop at cute toys when you got the real item right here?"

You blush deeply, averting your gaze. But there's a hint of curiosity too, peeking through your embarrassment. "T-...The real item?"

Tex chuckles, the sound low and throaty. His finger traces a path down your jawline, stopping just below your chin. "That's right," he whispers, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. "The big doggy, waiting to take care of his pup."

Your heart races, pulse fluttering wildly in your chest. You swallow hard, trying not to betray your nervousness. But Tex's words ignite a strange mix of fear and anticipation within you.

"What do you say, kiddo? Want some comfort?" He tilts your head up delicately, capturing those wide, anxious eyes. Tex's voice drops to a velvety purr, "Want me to show you what a real daddy can do?"

You swallow again, hesitating only for a moment. Then, surprisingly, you find courage to meet his gaze boldly. "Show me, daddy..." you breathe out softly, your voice wavering with trepidation.

A slow, satisfying smile spreads across Tex's face. The corner of his lips curls up as if savoring a juicy secret. He sets the plushie toy aside, replacing it with his warm, calloused hand on yours "Very well," he purrs, leading you toward the bedroom. "Let's get started on your education, darling."

As you enter the bedroom, Tex strips off his jacket and shirt nonchalantly. He begins undressing slowly, enjoying every second of your breathless gaze. The muscles of his broad shoulders glisten under the dim light, punctuated by the trimmed beard and mustache framing his features.

He lies on the bed, stretching languidly. A smirk plays at the edges of his lips. "Join me, kiddo."

You hesitate, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in your mouth. Despite your apprehension, you feel a surge of desire course through your veins. Nervously, you follow his command, crawling onto the bed beside him.

Tex reaches out, grasping your waist and pulling you close. His fingertips dance along the curve of your spine, drawing gentle circles that send electric sparks coursing through your body. He nudges you down onto the mattress, positioning himself behind you.

"Ready for daddy's lesson, little girl?" he asks, his voice husky with lust. His thumb brushes against your sensitive spot, eliciting a gasp from you. "Or do you want me to go easier?" adding, "There's no rush, we've got all night." His voice is velvet-soft, filled with understanding and promises of patience. Slowly, Tex shifts his weight over you, pressing into your back gently. Your naked bodies brush against each other, your pulsing arousal barely hiding beneath the sheets.

With practiced ease, he reaches around, tracing his fingers down your core. He strokes your clit gently, coaxing out the wetness that already starts to flow freely. A soft, encouraging word escapes his lips: "Remember, no pain, no gain."

You whimper, arching slightly into his touch. Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to control your breaths, but the building sensation seems too powerful to quell. Tex's fingers slide deeper, massaging your insides tenderly. Each stroke makes you even wetter.

Slowly, Tex withdraws his fingers from the wet heat between your legs. He leans down, kissing your neck passionately while his erection nestles against your backside. "It's time," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "For your first real taste of daddy's love."

Despite the apprehension, you can't help but moan softly at his proximity. Your fears seem to fade a little under his touch, replaced by anticipation and need.

Feeling your discomfort, Tex pauses. A plan forms in his mind, a way to make this less daunting for his 'kiddo'.

Reaching out, he grabs one of your plushie from the end of the bed and presses it into your hands. "Here," he murmurs, his voice filled with affection.

As he guides himself towards your entry, his movements are measured and careful, affording you every opportunity to adjust.

You clutch the plushie tightly, heart pounding in your ears. You feel a pang of relief at his consideration, unexpected tears pricking your eyes. With a shuddering breath, you nod in agreement.

"All right," Tex murmurs, his voice steady yet laced with tenderness. He pushes forward slowly, the tip of him breaching your tight entrance. A wave of sensations washes over you, mingled with both pleasure and slight discomfort. Your entire focus centers on the feeling of intrusion, the unfamiliar invasion of this intimidating figure.

He remains still, allowing your body to accommodate him. Tex's breath hitches, waiting patiently for your signal.

"How does it feel, baby?" he croons softly into your ear, his voice riddled with concern and anticipation. "Can I move?"

Trembling, you nod slightly, too overwhelmed to speak clearly. Every fiber of your being is focused on handling this new experience, his girth stretching your tissues, filling you in ways unimaginable until now.

Tex nods, his forehead resting against the curve of your shoulder blade. With a deep breath, he begins to thrust - slow, deliberate strokes designed to acclimatize you to his presence. Each movement claiming you territory after territory.

As Tex thrusts into you, he whispers encouraging words, urging you to vocalize your feelings.

"Tell me how it feels, kiddo," he pants heavily, his voice hoarse. "Do you hurt?"

You gasp, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. You rock against him, struggling to find a comfortable position. The familiar plushie rubbing against you provides small consolation amidst the foreign invasion.

"I... it burns," you admit hesitantly. "But...it also feels good."

A satisfied rumble echoes from Tex's chest. His pace quickens, seizing the opportunity to please you despite your apprehensions. "Of course it hurts," he acknowledges, his voice becoming even sexier with raw intensity. "This is how you learn, honey. This is how you become mine."

His thrusts intensify, deeper now, each strike stoking the fire of passion that had begun to simmer between them. Despite the initial discomfort, warmth blossoms within your core, fueling your desire further.

In turn, you moan loudly, completely engulfed by the carnal exchange.

"Does it hurt?" Tex repeats, checking again even though his body tells him otherwise.

Your response is a fierce shake of your head. "No, it's... it's getting better, daddy," you gasp, your voice trembling. "I think I'm starting to like it."

His heart swells with pride. Releasing one hand, he trails his fingers up to your nipple, pinching gently. Your eyes fly open wide, your face clenched with pleasurable pain. "That's what I want to hear, sweetheart."

With renewed vigor, Tex drives into you, more forcefully than before. His dark eyes blaze with hunger, piercing your skin with each percussive thrust. Slowly, rhythmically, you succumb to the dance, matching his movements with growing enthusiasm.

The plush toy bounces along, an innocent witness to your wild union. Its synthetic fur rustling against your movements.

"Is it enough, daddy?" You question, your voice thick with need. "Can I touch myself?"

Tex smiles against your skin, pleased by your submission. "Of course, darling," he responds, his own breathing labored. "Make yourself feel good."

With trembling hands, you reach your hand down between your legs, your fingers slick with your shared arousal. You rub circles on your clitoris, making the ache more intense. Your hips buck in time with his thrusts.

The room spins around you, the world narrowing down to just this moment. Your fingertips press harder on your clitoris, matching Tex's increasing intensity. Surrendering to his dominance and your own lust, you meet each surge of his hips eagerly.

As he nears his climax, Tex cradles you tightly, holding you close as if afraid you might slip away. The tempo increases, driven by pure instinct and desire.

Finally, he groans loudly, his semen flooding into you. Your inner walls pulse around him, milking him dry of his seed. Even the plushie beneath you vibrates faintly from the force of your orgasm.

When it's over, Tex collapses onto your back, panting heavily. He holds the stuffed toy against your cheek, murmuring apologies in a voice thick with satisfaction.

"Sorry, kiddo," he says softly. "Maybe next time we'll use something else."

You giggle into the embrace, exhausted yet content. Your breathing slows down gradually, your heartbeat synchronizing with his.

Still, the plushie rests between you both, evidence of your shared adventure. A testament to a night neither of you will soon forget.

You turn towards him, tilting your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes sparkle with unshed tears of joy, mirrored by the shimmer in his own.

"I don't mind, Daddy," you confess shyly, tracing the outline of his jawline. "It hurt, but it felt good too."

His smile softens, his fingers delving into your tousled hair. "That's my brave girl," he coos proudly. "You took everything I gave, just like a good girl."

Slowly, you unwind from each other, limbs dragging reluctantly apart. He helps you clean up, tenderly wiping away residual fluids. Your gazes lock once more, this time-sharing unspoken promises of future nights ahead.

"Come here," Tex signals, opening his arms.

Without hesitation, you crawl up, snuggling against his firm chest. He wraps you both in a warm blanket, your hearts beating harmoniously.

Sleep takes you both gently, wrapped protectively in his arms.

#tex johnson #tex johnson x you #tex johnson x reader #tex johnson imagine #swedish dicks #keanu reeves #keanu reeves gif #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanuedit #keanuverse #keanu characters #smut #daddy’s babygirl #daddy's good girl #daddy k!nk #keanu #keanu reeves imagine

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dichromaticdyke · 6 months

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Fic request/AU: Toki never auditioned for Dethklok and it’s always been a one guitar band and they are still world famous and wildly successful.

One night Skwisgaar hears something in the studio to find a spy has broken in! The spy who calls himself Toki is cornered and Skwisgaar takes the interrogation into his own hands to determine who this spy is and what he wants.

i wasn't sure where to take this, but you accidentally inspired a perfect concept in our dms.

With a sudden intake of breath, Skwisgaar snapped awake, still clutching his guitar in one hand and a notepad of scribbled tabs in another. This wasn't the first time he had fallen asleep in the studio while working on new Dethklok songs by himself, and he was certain it wouldn't be the last. Nathan and Pickles pulled their weight fine enough, but William was far too willing to get complacent with his own output. At times like this, he wondered if he should have let Dethklok become a two-guitar band.

He stretched his arms over his head, eager to get back to his firm bed that would, hopefully, realign his spine after it had been bent over the desk for the better part of eight hours. In doing so, he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. He tightened his grip on the neck of his guitar—he wasn't normally wary of intruders, knowing full well that Klokateers had methods of keeping them out, but that didn't stop his instinctual worry.

As he stood, he heard a slight high-pitched noise, almost like a yelp, coming from behind a few stereo speakers. He charged in the direction of it, his guitar held high above his head. Behind the speakers, he saw, was a man—a man with long brown hair and white and black face paint on.

"Jeg beklager!" the man cried as Skwisgaar cornered him. "Jeg beklager!"

Skwisgaar sneered, slowly lowering his guitar. "Norska?" he asked.

The man nodded, hesitantly.

"Eugh." Great. If there was one group of people he hated more than the Danish, it was the Norwegians.

"I didn't mean to scare you," the man continued in Norwegian. "I just—I had to—"

"This is a secure compound," Skwisgaar told him in Swedish. "No one should be here—especially not Norwegian black metal wannabes."

"I'm not a wannabe!" The man crossed his arms over his chest. "My name is Toki Wartooth, and I'm the lead guitarist of Horse's Dick!"

Skwisgaar grimaced at the name. "I'm sure it sounds like dildos. How hard could it be to be a black metal lead guitarist?" he asked with an eye roll. "Don't you have a church to burn down or something? Get out of here."

"No!" Toki grabbed onto Skwisgaar's wrist. "I came all this way!"

"For what? Want to burn down Mordhaus, too? You have about five seconds before I call the Klokateers here to have you killed."

"I can't tell you why I'm here..." Toki looked down at his feet, not releasing his grip on Skwisgaar.

While he did seem significantly younger than him, and a bit shorter, Skwisgaar could tell just from the faint outline of his shirt that this man was jacked. If Skwisgaar tried to get physical with him, he was sure he would lose.

And truthfully, he didn't have his Dethphone on him. He couldn't contact the Klokateers fast enough. He would have to get this Toki guy out of here on his own.

So, he feigned interest. "Whatever it is you wanted, I can't give it to you if you don't tell me," he said.

Toki frowned. "Well, my bandmate—his name is Runke Snogge—he doesn't like digital music. He hates Dethklok. But I heard you had a new analog recording format..." He trailed off, looking down before finally letting Skwisgaar go.

It was making sense now. He wanted to find a way to record his dildo black metal records onto water. He wanted to scoff at this idea, tell Toki that the highly complicated and expensive technology it took to produce HEARD wasn't something to be wasted on his stupid amateur music. Instead, he deflected: "Water records can only be recorded in Mordhaus. You don't even have a guitar or your friend."

"Yes I do." Toki pointed past Skwisgaar, who turned his head. Against the wall, near the door to the studio, was a haphazardly duct-taped Flying V guitar. "I was gonna try to record some of my tracks...but you were here..."

Skwisgaar sighed. This man was just so pathetically earnest, wasn't he? "Even still, without your friend, you won't be able to record your songs on water—"

"He's outside."

Skwisgaar narrowed his eyes. "What."

"He's outside. He didn't want me to come all this way by myself. He's waiting for me... Damn it, I should go."

And this time, as Toki made to leave, it was Skwisgaar's turn to grab his wrist and stop him. "Wait." He cursed himself for what he was about to do. "Just...wait ten minutes."

Dick Knubbler let out a yawn as Skwisgaar begrudgingly gave him a cup of coffee. "Alright babes, you ready?" he asked. Skwisgaar had been lucky that Dick hadn't been too far from Mordhaus at the time of his call, though he did wish that the man had slept in...well, any kind of clothing. Lending him his own robe was another sacrifice he was making tonight.

"Readies!" Toki said, his guitar strapped over his shoulder and plugged into the amps of the recording booth.

"Readies," the man known as Runke said, notably less excited than Toki.

Dick hit record, and the two Norwegians inside the recording booth began to record their first song: "Release Me from Conservative Hell." As they played, Dick swiveled in his chair to face Skwisgaar. "You know, the other boys aren't gonna be happy about this."

"Ja, I knows." Skwisgaar finished his own cup of coffee in one prolonged gulp.

"And you certainly don't let anyone else use the recording booth. What's this about?"

"Nothings."

Dick smirked, peaking over his shoulder at Hestkuk. Toki was in the middle of playing an agonizingly slow chord while Runke shrieked some nonsense about hating his life, or whatever. "Norwegian men are kinda cute, aren't they, babe?"

"I's has you killeds too, Knubbler."

#ask.mj #nyoomkitty #Metalocalypse #fanfic #Skwisgaar Skwigelf #Toki Wartooth #skwistok #if you squint but also kind of always in canon yknow?#nyoom when you said “friendship ended with skwisgaar skwigelf now runke snogge is my best friend” the idea hit me #the sleeper has awakened #also fun fact we already know norwegian and swedish are sister languages and have a lot of words that mean the same in both of them #hestkuk is one of them so i thought it would be funnier to write the translation out while they're speaking in their native languages #and once again endings are hard any i've had the worst headache for hours so if this is bad i'm SORRY i'm not proofreading it #Dick Knubbler #Runke Snogge #made by mj

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