#y'all dilf ky HAUNTS ME

[frudoo]

Everything Zen

Ex's Dad!Kyle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating by ex-boyfriend. Cunnilingus. Hard and soft dom!Kyle. Daddy kink (I swear it came out of nowhere). Talk of protection but ultimately unprotected PIV, creampie. Breeding. Kyle taking things wayyy too fast. Partially edited?

The beer you’re nursing does little to calm the rage pulsing in your veins. Two years down the drain, all because your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—decided to sink balls deep into some bitch he met on a dating app he promised you he’d deleted when the two of you got together. The lies and the cheating were bad enough, but worse is the fact that when you caught the two of them in your own bed, he tried to convince you to join. They didn’t even stop to try and explain, even as you screamed at the top of your lungs and threw whatever was in your reach at them. You made sure he was at work when you returned the next day to get your shit and trash the house—childish, maybe, but you were pissed. 

     You still are. That’s why, when your friends called and begged you to quit sulking and finally go out with them again, you begrudgingly agreed. The best way to get over him is to get under some other guy or whatever Lydia had said. As much as you hate to admit it, the idea of finding a good fuck with no commitment does sound like just the remedy you need. 

     The music is far too loud even for you, and it makes your head ache with irritation. You’ve been here for the better part of an hour and somewhere in that timeline Lydia and your other friends had already found someone to take home. Here you were, still on your first beer of the night, alone and attempting not to scare off every potential hookup that walks by. Fuck, maybe your best friend is right—you do need to work on your RBF. 

     Perhaps not too hard, though. 

     “No’ one f’pickup lines, dove, but y’look too perfect t’be sittin’ here all by y’self.”

     Sliding into the empty seat beside you is the most gorgeous man you think you’ve ever seen. Deep brown eyes laced with mischief and clean, straight teeth peeking through plush lips—you can’t help but wonder how they’d feel against your neck, or your stomach, or lower—and a neatly trimmed beard, mostly dark but with streaks of stark white scattered about. You always have had a thing for the silver foxes. 

     “And you look too important to be talking to someone like me,” you furrow your brow but can’t hide the way your eyes rake over his body. 

     “Agree t’disagree,” the beautiful stranger lifts his hands in faux surrender, that brilliant smile widening. “I’m Kyle.”

     You take a long swig of your beer, tossing back the rest of the amber liquid, before deciding that it won’t hurt to give him your own name. He nods in approval, offering to buy you another beer. Sighing heavily, you stand to face him completely, slithering your way between his spread thighs. You hear his breath hitch as you lean in closer to his ear, lips brushing against his soft skin.

     “Look, Kyle, I’m not one to play around. If you don’t wanna take me home, push me away right now,” you hum, offering him an out, but he shows no resistance. 

     “And if I do?” His voice darkens while large, warm hands grab onto the backs of your thighs, thumbs grazing right below the curve of your ass. 

     Playfully nipping at his lobe, you respond with a purr. 

     “Then you better show me one hell of a night.”

     You barely make it into the Uber before he’s kissing you nasty, sucking on your tongue like he did the cherry in his old-fashioned. He still tastes like bourbon. The driver pretends not to notice the scene in her backseat as she asks for directions to Kyle’s house, which he gives her between sharp nips to your neck. You bite your lip to stifle a moan when he pinches at your hardened nipples through your dress, averting your wide eyes to focus on the scenery surrounding the moving car. 

     When you finally arrive at his house, Kyle carefully drags you out of the car by your bicep, but not before sliding a nice roll of cash to the driver who yells after the two of you in appreciation. As you giggle against his lips, the man pushes you against his front door, fumbling around in his pockets in a search for his keys. Once he finds them and unlocks the door, he tosses them aside and hoists you up into his arms, coaxing you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

     “Mind the mess,” Kyle murmurs, plopping your ass onto his couch. “I’ll be righ’ back.”

     Just like that, he leaves you with a heaving chest and a persistent throb between your legs. It’s a nice enough house, you ponder, just lacking a woman’s touch of warm, homely decor. That’s comforting—easier to believe you’re not going to be the reason a marriage gets destroyed. His lack of a ring doesn’t mean shit these days. 

     You can still hear him moving around somewhere in the back, and you take the opportunity to take a closer look at his living room. Above the fireplace are a few pictures that look a few years old. He has children, it seems, but they’re all grown. You grab what looks like the most recent picture and bring it up to your face to observe more closely. You count three girls that look a bit younger than you, but when you see the man on the end, your heart drops. 

     Right beside Kyle is your ex-boyfriend, with an arm around the aforementioned’s shoulders and an eerily similar complexion that you somehow missed when you first started flirting with the older man. 

     Motherfucking fucker. You just made out with your ex’s dad. You have to get out of here. 

     With trembling hands, you place the frame back onto the top of the fireplace and smooth out the wrinkles in your dress, shaking your head to try and clear away the shame brewing in your brain. You make a beeline for the front door but the second your hand closes around the handle, Kyle clears his throat.

     “Leavin’ already?” 

     Startled, you turn around to face him, met by the sight of him shirtless with two towels draped over his shoulder. He’s changed into nothing but a pair of grey sweats, the cheeky fucker. You frown, hiding your hands behind your back—despite the fact that there’s nothing in them—like you’re a child who just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. 

     “Y-yeah, I- um, I forgot I have… uh, my cat needs to be fed,” you cringe and pinch the bridge of your nose—all the excuses in the world, and that’s what you come up with?

     Kyle cocks an eyebrow and slowly strides over to you, caging you against his body with those strong arms. Your breath hitches in your throat as you try to ignore how warm he is, how fucking good he smells, the gentle touch of his hand on your waist and fingers lifting your chin. 

     “Righ’. Y’gonna tell me the real reason or is Cinderella jus’ gonna run from me?” 

     You curse under your breath, fists clenched by your sides. You knew you should have just stayed home, but no. Here you are, about to explain to what would have been your one night stand that he fathered the man who broke your heart.  

     “I… I, erm… I dated your… your son,” you hesitate, unable to meet his eye.

     “Oh.” 

     You think that being eaten alive by a pride of hungry lions would be less uncomfortable than this very moment. 

     “Yeah. I’m just… gonna go n-”

     “No’ anymore, eh?” Kyle interrupts, fingertips squeezing the plush of your waist. “Lemme guess—fucker cheated on ya.”

     “How did you-?”

     “Tha’ wanker’s always been a bloody git. Doesn’t know a good thing when it’s in his grasp,” the older man sighs. 

     “Now, y’can leave and pretend this never ‘appened,” he trails off, leaning down to press his lips to the skin behind your ear. “Or y’can stay and find out ‘ow a real Garrick treats a lady.”

     One swipe of his tongue across your jawline and you’re folding.

     “Show me.”

     Kyle hums in satisfaction, those huge paws hoisting you up into his grip once again. You wrap your arms around his neck and your thighs around his middle, moaning softly as he buries his face in your neck. He maneuvers his way through the hall without so much as a stumble, tossing you on his bed and chuckling at the way you bounce. 

     “Was gonna take ya in the shower, first, bu’ m’afraid tha’ would deter my little tickin’ time bomb,” he teases, climbing on the bed and settling on his stomach between your legs. “Unfortunately, m’not as patient as Prince Charming was, dove. We’ll jus’ find a different use f’these towels, then.” 

     He lifts your hips and lays out one of the towels beneath your bottom, then spreads your luscious thighs with a quickness that makes your breath stutter. Your hands fly to his curls and grip them tightly for leverage as he shoves your dress up to bunch around your waist, chuckling lowly when he sees what you’re wearing beneath—or what you’re not wearing, rather. 

     “Naughty girl. Expectin’ this, were we?” Kyle runs his thumb through your folds, licking his lips at the slick that coats the tip. 

     “I-I wasn’t-”

     “Mm, I ge’ it, princess. Needed t’ take ya mind off things, eh? Forget all abou’ tha’ bastard son o’mine.”

     You whimper at that, much to the older man’s amusement. He leans down to sink his teeth into the delicate skin of your inner thigh before soothing the mark with a kiss.

     “Did he ever ge’ ya this wet, pretty girl?” Kyle drags his plush lips higher up your thigh, closer to the spot that’s begging for his attention. 

     You shake your head, hips bucking up in a desperate attempt to get his mouth on your pussy. 

     “Answer me and you’ll ge’ wha’ ya want.”

     “No, he never- never got me this wet,” you whine, tugging at his hair. “Please, just- I want your tongue. Please.”

     “Fuck, y’beg so pretty, dove. C’mon then, ge’ those legs over m’shoulders.” 

     When you comply, he wastes no time before laving his tongue over the hood of your clit, tantalizingly slow. So slow it almost hurts. 

     “Kyle-”

     You don’t even get to finish your sentence before the man between your thighs retracts his tongue and replaces it with a sharp slap to your cunt. You yelp and stare down at him in shock, equally as surprised and embarrassed at the way the action makes you gush.

     “Tha’s no’ m’fuckin’ name,” he grunts. “Try again.” 

     You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head in confusion. 

     “I don’t-”

     “Tell Daddy wha’ it is tha’ ya want.”

     Oh. Oh, fuck, that’s not what you expected, but it’s not unwelcome. At all, much to your own surprise. Kyle gives your cunt another sharp smack with a flat, dry palm, snapping you back to reality. 

     “Come back t’me, princess.”

     “Daddy, please, I want you to- need you to eat my pussy,” you breathe, fingers moving to cup the back of his head. 

     “There’s a good girl,” he hums his approval, then shows it by shoving his tongue right into your sloppy hole. 

     Surreal—having the man who broke your heart’s dad eating you out like it’s the first meal he’s had in weeks. You’re out of your fucking mind, you’ve got to be, but fuck, the way Kyle’s wet tongue sends shockwaves all throughout your body dissolves any doubt you were entertaining. You always had to beg his son to go down on you and when he did it was half-assed, just a way to get you wetter so he could stick his dick in you sooner. Fuck, he definitely didn’t get you so close this quickly.

     “Oh shit, gonna- Daddy- gonna cum!” You slur, fists hitting his solid shoulders as you near the brink.

     Kyle looks up at you, eyes squinting with mischief, and sucks on your clit hard. When he feels your legs about to give out, he stops altogether, interrupting the absolute bliss you just dipped your toe into. You let out a sob, hips rocking against nothing but air as you try to get stimulation on your cunt once again. 

     “N-no! Fuck, why?” You rasp, pushing yourself up on wobbly arms. 

     “Ya didn’t ask permission first, princess,” the older man shrugs, and were you not still hazy from your ruined orgasm you would’ve cussed him out. 

     A tear slips down your puffy cheek and Kyle sticks out his bottom lip, mocking your pout. He cups your face in his hands and wipes away the moisture.

     “Oh, poor li’l love, lookin’ up at me with those pretty eyes,” he tuts, pressing his forehead to yours. “Ya wanna cum, dovie? Wan’ Daddy t’make ya feel good?” 

     “Please,” you murmur breathlessly, leaning up to try and capture his plush lips in a kiss to which he pulls back teasingly. “Wha-?”

     He raises a single eyebrow.

     “Please, Daddy, make me cum.” 

     “Mm, good girl. Fast learner, y’are,” Kyle finally gives in to your plea, running his fingertips over your arms until you lift them so he can remove your dress completely. 

     He groans lowly at the sight of your completely bare body, your dress long forgotten somewhere on his bedroom floor. His hands are on you again in an instant.

     “Fuck me,” Kyle grunts, tweaking one pert nipple between his thumb and forefingers, observant eyes locked on every reaction on your face. “These tits, dove… bloody ‘ell. Perfection.”

     He doesn’t allow a word to slip out of your mouth before he’s leaning in to lick a wet path on the valley between your breasts. His beard is still damp with your slick, coating your delicate skin with both himself and you. Only when he sucks your nipple into his mouth do you let out a whimper, hands desperately trying to find the hem of his sweatpants to pull them down. 

     “Hey. I jus’ complimented ya on y’learnin’ skills,” Kyle chides with no true disappointment and a breathy chuckle, swatting your hands away. “Ya wan’ somethin’, ya ask.”

     “Can I… please, can I take these off? Fuck, wanna see it, need to see you, please-”

     “Go on, then.”

     With a nearly silent gasp, you do as he says, shoving down the one layer of fabric keeping him hidden. A borderline pornstar-esque cock greets your eyes, which widen up at him in shock. He’s long and fairly girthy, curved at the pretty red-tinged tip, with a perfectly plump vein hidden beneath the base. It twitches when you get closer, a pearl of precum beading at his slit. 

     “Go’ a li’l drool runnin’ down ya chin there, princess,” Kyle snickers, running his thumb over your bottom lip. 

     You push his hand away in embarrassment, yelping when he places his fingertips on your chest and pushes you back down onto the bed, climbing right on top of your lush body. His lips capture yours once again in a hasty, desperate kiss, one that has you panting into his mouth as you try to speak. 

     “D-do you have a condom?” 

     “Mm, ‘fraid I don’t, dove. Don’t do this very often,” Kyle admits.

     You frown, but the man is quick to remedy your hesitance with another short peck.

     “M’clean. Can pull up m’records if-”

     “No, no, it’s fine,” you breathe, your fingers clasping behind his neck to convince him to stay put. “I am too.”

     “It’s settled, then,” he grins, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Jus’ relax, lemme take care of ya.”

     The tip of his cock slides through the cleft of your pussy, melting whatever tension still remained in your muscles. You sink into the pillows, just as soft, and watch as Kyle lines himself up with your entrance. There’s a bit of resistance at the first push, making you wince. He coos down at you apologetically, brows furrowed as he gives a little more force to his actions. When he finally slips inside the both of you gasp in sync, and your legs instinctively wrap around his slender waist. 

     “F-fuck, princess, you’re so bloody tight,” Kyle groans, resting his forearms on the pillows beside your head and feeding your cunt another inch of himself.

     All you can manage is a whimper, nails clawing at the bedsheets in an attempt to distract from the burning stretch. Your eyes shut until he bottoms out, hips flush against each other, one.

     “Y’with me, dovie?” He questions in a murmur, grinning contentedly when your eyes open and meet his own. 

     “Mhm,” you nod, allowing your hands to rest on his shoulders, massaging gently. 

     Kyle wastes no more time. You feel every ridge, every vein of his dick as he slowly pulls out until just the tip remains inside of you. There is no tenderness in the way he shoves back in, all primal need and unsatiated lust. Your yelp of surprise only fuels him, giving you another sturdy thrust which results in your nails digging into his skin. For all of his effort, the pace is still leisurely, spaced-out, leaving room for protest need you give him one.

     “All good?” He asks gently, a jarring contrast to the force of his hips rocking against yours. 

     “Yes. Fuck, please, need more,” you babble, little whines leaving your lips every time he fills you completely. 

     “Speak up, pretty girl, can’t understand ya when y’mumble,” Kyle coaxes you, stopping all movement until you give him what he wants. 

     “Daddy… faster, please,” you whine, voice morphing into a squeal when he snaps his hips back against yours. 

     “Atta fuckin’ girl,” he hums proudly.

     Kyle might be older, but he isn’t afraid to put his entire body into it. You don’t think you’ve ever been fucked so deep—certainly not by his son—in your life, but like hell you’re complaining. He intertwines his fingers with yours and pins your hands beside your head, holding you in place so you can look him in the eye while you brave every one of his devastating thrusts. It’s so intimate despite the quickness of the act, and it makes his efforts that much more satisfying. 

     “So deep,” you murmur, lifting your head so that he’ll kiss you. 

     He delivers, of course, licking into your mouth with a fervor that matches your own. He grins against your lips as you lock your ankles around his waist, egging him on. 

     “Yeah? Tha’ feel good, dovie?” Kyle teases, nipping at your bottom lip. “Daddy hittin’ all the righ’ spots?” 

     “Mhm!” Your eyes squeeze tightly shut, and Kyle grunts in disapproval. 

     “No, no, ya look at me, princess. When I give ya this big fuckin’ dick, ya look at me, and ya thank me f’it,” he growls, lightly smacking your cheek with his fingertips but not enough to hurt. 

     “Thank- thank you, Daddy, m’sorry,” you open your eyes, barely able to see through the film of tears that’s formed. 

     “No apologies,” Kyle wipes away the moisture with his knuckles, leaning down to touch his own sweaty forehead against yours. “Matter ‘fact, I don’ even wan’ ya t’think.” 

     Before you realize what’s happening, Kyle has your knees pinned to your chest, engulfing you in a tight bear hug. Fuck, you thought he was deep before—now you can’t even figure out where he begins and you end. There’s no more practiced, random rolls of his hips. Now he pumps into you with vigor, all power and rhythm, forward and back like clockwork. You’re entirely surrounded by him and his warmth, utterly full of everything he has to give and it still doesn’t feel like enough. 

     Your arms wrap beneath his so that you can rest your hands on his broad back, keeping him as close to you as possible. He buries his face in your neck and hums contentedly, sucking your supple skin between his lips, no doubt leaving a pretty purple mark. It doesn’t bother you, not when you’re almost positive he’s got nasty scratch marks from your nails somewhere on his body.

     Your legs bounce uselessly in the air until Kyle decides he’s had enough of that, leaning up to rest his hands in the crook of your knees, calves settled over his shoulders. He’s got all the leverage now, those  eyes half-lidded and staring down at you intently. A cocky smirk curls at the corner of his mouth at every little ah! ah! ah! that he fucks out of you, the obscene sounds of his cock ruining your sopping wet cunt a delightful symphony in the room. 

     “Mm, ya hear tha’ pussy talkin’ t’me? Practically screamin’ at me, dove,” he chuckles, mocking the shy little pout you give him. “Wha’ d’ya think she’s sayin’, huh? Think she’s askin’ me t’fill ‘er up?”

     “Daddy-!”

     “Yeah, I know, princess, can feel ya chokin’ my damn cock. Cum f’me, go on, know ya need to. Let all those thoughts slip righ’ on outta tha’ pretty li’l head o’yours, babe.”

     You can’t stop the screams that leave your aching chest. Your eyes pathetically roll into the back of your skull, it seems, as all the pleasure that had been building comes to a head. Your walls contract around him and your back arches, entire body trembling with the force of your orgasm. Kyle looks down to where the two of you are connected, groaning deeply at the sight of your slick, creamy  release coating the thick base of his shaft and the skin surrounding it. 

     “Fuck, dove, m’close,” he pants, movements turning erratic the closer he gets to his end. “Where d’ya wan’ it?”

     “Inside,” you rasp through a dry, raw throat. 

     “No’ the time f’jokes,” Kyle huffs impatiently, sucking a string of dangling saliva back into his mouth. “Where d’ya wan’ this cum?”

     “Want you to cum inside of me,” you huff right back, trying your damnedest to cross your ankles around his head. 

     “Bloody ‘ell.”

     Kyle’s hips snap once, twice, thrice more before he holds himself still, buried deep enough inside you that you can feel his throbbing tip pressing up against your cervix. The pinch is dulled by the warmth of his semen and the pretty whimpers that leave him, raw and unbidden. His hot, labored breath gently whisks across your face when he carefully readjusts your legs off of his waist, laying beside you and pulling you into his arms. Once you’re both comfortable, you giggle, and he pulls his head back to look at you amusedly.

     “My skills tha’ laughable t’ya?” He teases, hissing playfully as you give a smack to his chest. 

     “Shut up,” you breathe through a smile. “Just… didn’t expect that.”

     “Fuckin’ ya ex’s dad?”

     You wince, giving him another sharp slap.

     “Any of it, you asshole,” you laugh.

     There’s a beat of silence as you snuggle up closer to him, comforted by the feeling of him pressed right against you. Kyle hums quizzically, resting his cheek against the top of your head. 

     “D’ya regret it?”

     “I don’t,” you answer instantly. “This is, like, crazy bragging rights.”

     “Mm, righ’, righ’. Talk o’the town, ya are,” he grins, peppering your hair with kisses. “Think I’m gonna keep ya, dovie.”

     “Keep me?”

     “Yeah. Pu’ a ring on tha’ pretty finger, baby in ya belly. No’ gettin’ any younger, y’know,” he sighs dreamily, running his fingertips in random patterns along your back.

     “I just met you!” Disbelief laces your voice.

     “Maybe, bu’ imagine the look on my son’s face when he finds ou’ you’re his stepmum.” 

     Now that is a delicious thought.

     “I like how you think, Mr. Garrick.”