jealous kyra x girlfriend reader
word count - 4k
trigger warnings - SMUT (minors dni), jealous/possessiveness, fingering, vibrator, unholy use of a mirror
The hum of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air as the living room buzzed with Spurs players sprawled across couches, beanbags, and the floor. Someone had queued a 2000s playlist, and half empty pizza boxes were stacked beside an open bottle of wine on the coffee table.
You leaned back into the armrest of the sofa, one arm lazily draped over the back, a bottle in your free hand. Your eyes scanned the room, landing briefly on your teammate and captain Beth England, who was animatedly recounting a story about your last away game. Kyra was nestled beside you with her thigh brushing against yours.
"You know," Beth said, pointing a breadstick at Kyra, "it's brave of you to come to enemy territory."
Kyra raised a brow. "Enemy territory?"
Beth grinned. "Spurs party, Arsenal girl in the mix? It's like you're asking for trouble."
"Well, your forward here practically begged me to come," Kyra replied, smirking as she glanced sideways at you.
"I did not beg," you shot back amused.
Kyra shrugged, that irritatingly confident smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Felt like begging."
The room laughed. You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered as you took a sip of your beer.
A little later, the crowd thinned as players split into smaller groups. You wandered into the kitchen, topping up your drink. Beth followed, nudging you playfully.
“So hey,” she said, casting a quick glance toward the living room, “you remember Chloe? She’s friends with my wife Steph, works in the marketing unit for her club?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Vaguely?”
“She saw you on my Insta story and basically begged me to introduce you. She’s your type, you’d like her.”
You choked on your drink, coughing into your sleeve. "My type? And what would my type look like, exactly?"
Becca grinned. "Dunno. Blonde maybe or brunette. Into sport. Likes cute coffee dates and watching the sunset."
You narrowed your eyes playfully. "You’ve thought about this too much."
"I’m just a connector of hearts. A giver."
You shook your head, grinning. "You’re something, alright."
Meanwhile, from across the room, Kyra’s gaze sharpened. She watched Beth nudge your shoulder, caught the glint of a smile you gave in return. She didn’t hear the conversation, just saw you laughing. Saw Beth leaning a bit too close, and assumed the worst.
Kyra downed the rest of her drink, set the glass down harder than necessary, and stalked over. Without slowing down, she reached for your arm.
“We have to go feed the cat,” she said firmly, eyes not leaving yours.
Lenna looked over with a confused frown. “Wait, since when do they have a cat?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t Kyra was already tugging you toward the hallway, jaw tight, shoulders stiff.
Something was definitely off.
The silence in the car was unbearable.
You shifted in your seat, sneaking glances at Kyra as she stared straight ahead, her jaw clenched and hands gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
You tried to break the tension. “You okay?”
Nothing. Her eyes didn’t even flick toward you.
You frowned. “Did I do something?”
Your brows pulled together. “Kyra, talk to me. Seriously. You’ve been acting weird since we left. What did I do?”
She turned a little tighter into the curve of the road, her grip tightening, knuckles pale.
You let out a breath, frustration and confusion mixing in your chest. “You’re mad. I know you’re mad, but I have no idea why.”
By the time you got home, the knot in your stomach was tight. You stepped out of the car slowly, watching her slam the door with a little too much force. She said nothing as she walked up the path, unlocking the door with short, clipped movements.
You barely got two steps inside the house before Kyra slammed the door shut behind you, the sharp thud making you flinch. You turned, confused and exhausted from the car ride and the tension that had been building since you left the event.
“Alright,” you snapped, folding your arms. “Seriously, what is your problem?”
Kyra’s eyes blazed as she stalked toward you, her body tight with coiled frustration.
“My problem?” Her voice was sharp, almost incredulous. “You really don’t get it?”
You opened your mouth, then closed it again, shaking your head. “No. I don’t. You’ve barely said a word for the past hour. You’re clearly angry, but you won’t even tell me why.”
Kyra laughed (a humorless, bitter sound) as she ran a hand through her hair.
“I’m angry because I saw you,” she bit out. “I saw the way you were acting. Like you didn’t even care I was standing right there.”
“What are you talking about?” you asked, exasperated. “Acting how?”
Her eyes locked on yours, fierce and unreadable. “Don’t play dumb. You’re not that clueless. You were laughing, smiling, being so damn touchy, like I didn’t exist.”
“Who?” you asked, brow furrowed. “Who was I…?”
Kyra raised a hand, cutting you off. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t say her name. I don’t want to hear it.”
Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You were stunned, and for a second, the room felt too small, too quiet under the weight of her stare.
She stepped closer, voice low now, but no less heated. “Upstairs.”
“Go to our room,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Strip. Wait for me.”
Her gaze raked over you, jaw tight. “Since you want attention so badly, I’ll make damn sure you remember exactly who you belong to.”
You stood there for a heartbeat, stunned, pulse suddenly racing for a different reason entirely.
“Now,” she added, voice fueled by fire.
You swallowed, heat blooming across your skin, and nodded before turning to head upstairs, your heart thudding louder with every step. You didn’t know who she was jealous of, but you knew damn sure you were about to feel the consequences of it.
The air in your room felt heavier than usual, charged with something electric. You stood near the foot of your bed, completely bare, hands clasped in front of you, heart hammering like it was trying to break free from your chest.
You’d done exactly what she asked and now you were waiting.
The sound of Kyra’s footsteps on the stairs was slow and deliberate, each one making your breath catch in anticipation. You swallowed hard, eyes flicking toward the door just as it creaked open.
Her gaze landed on you instantly, and everything about her seemed to shift. Her expression stilled, eyes darkening with something raw and consuming as she took you in, standing exactly where she told you. Vulnerable and obedient.
She shut the door behind her with a soft click that echoed in the silence and for a beat, she said nothing. Then her lips parted, and her voice low and controlled.
A shiver rolled down your spine, your breath catching in your throat.
But then her head tilted slightly, and something colder crept into her expression - something sharp behind her dark eyes.
“Now why,” she said slowly, stepping closer, “couldn’t you have been a good girl at the party?”
You blinked, startled, eyes searching hers. “Ky, I…what did I do?”
She let out a quiet laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Don’t,” she warned softly. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. Don’t stand there all sweet and perfect now like you weren’t out there giving someone else your attention like it meant nothing.”
Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You didn’t know what she meant, you truly didn’t. All you remembered was the party, the buzz of people, the laughter, the normal chatter. Nothing stood out.
Nothing, except her silence afterward.
You shook your head, confused, unsure whether to defend yourself or wait (unsure what would set her off more).
But Kyra wasn’t looking for answers now. Her eyes dropped briefly over your body again, and the tension in her jaw shifted into something else entirely.
“You’re quiet now,” she murmured, closing the distance between you. “You’ll learn to stay that way.”
“I bet you knew exactly what you were doing,” Kyra murmured, her voice hot against your ear. “When she touched your arm like this…”
She pressed her body flush against your back, one hand sliding down to ghost over your forearm, her touch maddeningly slow. “Or when she leaned in too close, just like this…”
Her fingers curled gently (then firmly) around your wrists. Before you could react, she pulled both arms forward, guiding your hands to the dresser until your palms were flat against the cool wood. She didn’t let go.
“K…Kyra,” you stammered, your breath catching. “I wasn’t trying to make you jealous.”
Your heart was racing, brain scrambling for the right words, but coming up short. Because the truth was… you didn’t know. You had no idea any of it had affected her this much, but you were starting to feel it now, in the way her grip tightened slightly, in the heat radiating off her body, and in how she was pressing you down, inch by inch, over the dresser.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” you said quickly. “I didn’t even notice…”
Her voice cut you off, low and rough against your neck.
“It’s too late for that.”
And then her teeth were on you - biting down hard on the side of your neck. You gasped, the sudden sting making your knees buckle slightly. You knew without a doubt it would leave a mark. A visible one. One you wouldn’t be able to explain away easily.
Kyra paused, just for a second, her tongue gliding over the skin she’d just claimed.
“I guess I’ll have to remind you,” she whispered, her voice dark and deliberate, “that you’re mine. No one else even gets to look.” Her eyes, reflected clearly in the mirror on the dresser, were locked onto yours. But they didn’t stay there. Slowly her gaze dropped (travelling down your bare body) drinking in every exposed inch of you through the mirror.
The sheer intensity of her stare sent a pulse through your core, and you were already breathless from the anticipation alone.
“Keep your hands there,” she murmured, eyes still fixed on your reflection. Her grip on your wrists finally loosened, and you obeyed, palms flat against the wooden surface, fingertips curled slightly over the edge. You could feel her body behind yours and you couldn’t help but notice how wet you already were. Kyra’s smirk was almost predatory as she noticed it too. With deliberate slowness, she traced a single finger down in between your legs, pressing just in the middle your folds.
“I knew you enjoyed seeing me jealous,” she tsked, her tone mocking yet laced with affection. Her finger pressed harder against your clit, and you bit your lip, your head hanging low as a soft whimper escaped. Her touch was confident, cocky even, as if she knew exactly how desperate she was making you. Her fingertips played with you teasingly before she looked back at you through the mirror.
You forced your head to rise, meeting her gaze in the mirror. Her eyes were triumphant, her grin wide and proud.
“I want you to look at yourself when I touch you,” she said, her voice steady. “Know that tonight is the result of your actions.”
Her words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and submission. Without warning, her fingers slipped into you. Your hips jerked at the contact, your body instinctively pressing into her hand.
Small sighs of pleasure escaped your lips, and Kyra drank in every reaction, her ego swelling with each sound you made.
“Keep your hands still,” she reminded, her voice sharp but not unkind.
You obeyed, your fingers curling against the dresser as you gripped it for stability. Her fingers moved steadily, pumping in and out of you with a rhythm that was both relentless and intoxicating. Your wetness clung to her hand, slick and undeniable, but all you could focus on was the pleasure building within you.
Your legs began to tremble, the sensation overwhelming as Kyra pressed herself closer, her body flush against your back. You were bent fully over the dresser now, your head barely able to stay up as you struggled to keep your gaze on the mirror. Kyra’s free hand tangled in your hair, pulling it to the side to expose your neck. Her lips pressed against your skin, warm and insistent, leaving a mark that would serve as a reminder of her possessiveness.
“You’re mine,” she murmured against your skin, her breath hot and heavy. Her fingers inside you quickened, her touch demanding as she claimed you in every way possible.
Your body was hers to control, to mark, to pleasure, and you surrendered completely. The room was filled with the sounds of your soft moans and the wetness of her fingers moving in and out of you. Kyra’s lips trailed down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin as she left another mark.
Her fingers curled inside you, hitting a spot that made your toes curl, and you gasped, your head falling forward as you pressed your forehead against the cool surface of the dresser.
“Kyra,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and desperate. She chuckled, a deep, satisfied sound that vibrated against your skin.
“Not yet,” she teased, her fingers slowing but not stopping. “I’m not done with you.” Her lips returned to your neck, her teeth nipping at your skin as her hand continued to work you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge but never letting you fall. The anticipation was excruciating, your body tense and trembling as you waited for her command.
Finally, she leaned back, her breath hot against your ear.
“Look at me,” she ordered once more, and you lifted your head, meeting her eyes in the mirror. Her pupils were still blown, her desire as raw as ever, but now there was something else, a satisfaction that came from knowing she had you exactly where she wanted you.
“Cum for me” she whispered, her fingers pressing deep inside you as her thumb circled your clit. Your body obeyed without hesitation, pleasure exploding through you in waves. Your back arched, your fingers digging into the dresser as you cried out, your release overwhelming and undeniable. Kyra held you steady, her lips curving into a smirk as she watched you fall apart under her touch.
When your orgasm finally subsided, you were left trembling, your body left boneless. Kyra’s fingers slipped out of you, her hand gently stroking your hair as she pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck.
“That’s it,” she murmured, her voice gentle now, almost tender. “You’re mine, and I’m never letting you forget it.”
The mood then shifted again and Kyra's grip then switched to the back of your neck before tightening, forcing your reflection in the mirror to stay locked on hers.
"You got off too easy," she muttered, her voice dripping with possessiveness and before you could react, her hands slid down your hips, gripped hard then hauled you backward against her body.
One arm banded across your waist while the other landed a sharp, stinging smack across your ass. The sound cracked through the room. You gasped, arching instinctively into the burn as her palm met your flesh again, harder this time.
You barely got out one before the next one landed, the heat blooming across your skin making your thighs clench.
But Kyra didn’t stop at two. She delivered five in rapid succession, each one sending a jolt through your nerves until you were squirming against her, breathing ragged.
"Still too easy," she growled, spinning you around to face her.
Her fingers dug into your hips as she lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around her waist on instinct. She carried you a few steps to the bed and dropped you onto the mattress with a controlled roughness that left you sprawled on your back, chest heaving.
Kyra crossed the room to the drawer across from your bed, her movements brisk. You could hear her rummaging through it. The sound was sharp in the quiet space, before she turned back toward you with a vibrator in hand and her expression unreadable.
The vibrator was already buzzing at its lowest setting before Kyra dragged it up your inner thigh (slow and torturous) letting the sensation build until your hips jerked up instinctively.
"Look at you," she teased, pressing the tip against your clit just hard enough to make your thighs tremble. "Still wet for me after all that." She didn’t ease you into it, just cranked the speed higher and pressed it hard against you.
You could no longer control the moan that escaped from deep in your throat as your hands fisted the sheets. It was then that Kyra climbed onto the bed, straddling your hips. Her free hand fisted in your hair, forcing your gaze up to hers.
"Eyes open. Watch what happens when you forget who you belong to." she murmured.
The vibrator slid lower, circling your entrance before thrusting in without warning. A gasp tore from your lips at the sudden stretch, the relentless pace, the way she worked the toy inside you. Her mouth grazed your ear, teeth scraping over sensitive skin.
She pressed it deeper, the tip angling just right and when it hit that spot, your vision blurred with stars. The toy twisted again, relentless, finding that place that made your spine bow off the bed. Pleasure surged, fierce and tightening, your cries unraveling into wordless pleas as she held you down and watched you come undone with a sharp smirk.
After the last waves of pleasure faded, your body gave in all at once, tension melting into trembling exhaustion. The room blurred at the edges, too quiet and too loud all at once, your chest tight, breath shallow. The high had vanished, leaving you adrift, unmoored from the moment.
Kyra noticed immediately. She was already moving, her touch shifting from dominant to gentle in a heartbeat.
“Hey, I’ve got you,” she murmured, brushing damp hair from your face, her voice steady and low, grounding. Her gaze softened as she knelt beside you, reading every flicker of your expression. She eased the toy from you with slow care, murmuring, "You're okay. Just breathe for me."
She disappeared for only a moment, returning with a warm, damp cloth. Her hands moved with reverence as she cleaned you up, whispering reassurances the whole time. Telling you how proud she was, how beautiful you were, how safe you were now. Her presence wrapped around you like a blanket long before she pulled the actual one over your body.
Once done, she climbed into bed beside you, her movements quiet and unhurried. She opened her arms without a word, and you instinctively folded into her, guided by a pull deeper than thought. You burrowed into her chest, chasing the warmth of her skin, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, the familiar scent of her neck. Everything outside that space faded into silence.
Kyra held you tightly, anchoring you to the moment, one hand stroking slow, comforting circles across your back. The other gently cradled the back of your head.
“You did so good,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your temple with the softest kiss. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I'm right here. Not going anywhere.”
You pressed even closer, nuzzling into the curve of her collarbone, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath your cheek. Her skin was warm, her scent familiar and safe and a quiet sigh left your lips as your body finally let go.
Still breathless, your forehead rested lightly against the cool surface of the mirror, your skin humming from Kyra's touch. Her fingers lingered at your waist, holding you like a quiet declaration. Then, she spoke.
“Watch Beth do that to you,” she said, low and deliberate. Her words hung in the air, and your eyes shot open in confusion.
“What?” you managed, your voice cracking slightly as you turned your gaze toward her reflection, searching her face.
Kyra didn’t flinch. If anything, she seemed more composed now, calm in that dangerous way she always got after making her point. She leaned in closer behind you, her breath warm against the curve of your neck, her eyes locking onto yours in the mirror.
You turned slowly, still catching your breath, your body warm and a little shaky. Kyra stepped back just enough for you to face her directly.
She looked annoyingly put together but her expression was calm, the post sex confidence that followed her. Now she simply waited for you to catch up.
Blinking, you asked, “So, you’re seriously jealous of Beth?”
Kyra didn’t smile. Not yet. She crossed her arms, but her eyes softened, her breathing evening out.
“She touched your arm,” she said evenly.
Your eyes widened. “Right.”
You fought back a grin. “Are you serious?”
“I saw the way you looked at her. You laughed at something she said and leaned in like she was the most fascinating person in the room.” She paused, then continued. “Then she touched your arm as if she already owned you. Like she had the right to.”
You stared at her, stunned. Despite the tension still lingering in the air, you started to laugh: breathless, surprised, and a little confused. Not a mocking laugh, not a sneer, just genuine amusement.
Kyra’s eyes narrowed slightly, her mouth twitching, unsure whether to be insulted or amused.
“I’m sorry,” you said between chuckles. “I am my love, but you’ve just spent the last I don’t know how long ruining me over Beth (my captain) touching my elbow like I was about to marry her.”
Kyra’s jaw twitched. “Well… yeah.”
You laughed harder, leaning into the moment.
“Kyra,” you managed through your giggles, “Beth is literally married.” You tilted your head back, breathless. “You do remember that, right?”
“You literally signed the congratulations card,” you added, grinning. “We bought her a dining set off the registry.”
“And we had them over at ours for dinner, what, three weeks ago?”
Her eyes finally met yours, a mixture of seriousness and sheepishness in her gaze. “I forgot.”
You snorted under your breath. “You’re unbelievable.”
Kyra leaned in again, brushing a slow kiss to your shoulder, then your collarbone. “You didn’t stop her.”
You scoffed. “Because it didn’t mean anything. It was Beth being Beth.”
“She was flirting,” Kyra said softly.
“She was talking,” you replied.
Kyra didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked at you with that familiar expression, part sulky, part possessive.
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “God, you’re such a jealous freak.”
“Maybe,” Kyra murmured, pressing her lips lightly to your skin. “But it’s still worth it.”
A soft hum escaped your throat as you tilted your head to give her more room. “Yeah,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed. “It was.”
