#kepa smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kepamount · 2 years

Text

Fire In Your Eyes ♠️

Part 2 - Kepa’s POV

mafiaboss!kepa, dark romance, angst, smut, fluff, comedy

Rating: M

Warnings: dark themes, organised crime, blood, use of rope, cable ties and tape as restraints, starvation (i think???), mention of knives, female sexualisation (kepa finds y/n sexy and it's all he can think about lol), i think that’s everything but pls lmk if i missed something!

Word Count: 3.4k+

a/n: hey guys! here’s the second part of FIYE!! sorry for going ghost again - my rome holiday tired me out and i've just been recovering from that lol, i'll try to be more active now. pls lmk what you think and hmu if you wanna be added to the taglist. hope you enjoy!! x

taglist 🤍: @silverlightprincess

‘Don’t you think we should feed her, boss?’ Mason says, looking over my shoulder at my phone, live CCTV footage from the room she’s locked in on the screen. She’s been sat there for nearly 20 hours now, tied to the chair whilst falling in and out of sleep. She hasn’t shed a single tear. I think I’d be proud if it didn’t piss me off so much. I’ve never had a prisoner be so defiant. Her strength is only making me want to break her even more.

‘She made her bed. Now she has to sleep in it,’ I say, locking my phone and putting it down on the desk, Mason walking away to sit on the sofa closest to me. ‘Lie in it. She’s made her bed and now she has to lie in it,’ he corrects me, and I wave a hand in the air. My English might be near perfect but I don’t think I’ll ever understand their stupid idioms.

‘Have you spoken to her father yet?’ Mason asks, and I shake my head, no. ‘Why not?’ ‘I want el cabrón viejo to spend a few days wondering who shot his man and stole his daughter from him first,’ I lie. I have spoken to him, but I haven’t decided how much of the conversation I will relay to my men yet.

‘By the sounds of it, he’s not gonna care,’ Mason says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Her words can’t be trusted,’ I remind him, and he gives me a sceptical look, both of us knowing from the girl’s tone the other night that she wasn’t lying.

‘Say she’s telling the truth. Say he really doesn’t care. What will you do with her?’ Mason asks, and I remain silent. It’s a question I’ve been thinking about a lot since she told us she’s his stepdaughter, and I still haven’t come to an answer yet. I can’t tell Mason that though. I need him to think I always have a solution to any problem we come across.

‘Her brothers.’ ‘…Her brothers?’ Mason asks, and I nod. ‘Her father’s getting old, and he’s much wiser than most of us. He doesn’t care about pride anymore, and he won’t risk anything in the name of his pride. But her brothers are young and stupid, and they have more pride than anyone else in the world. They won’t like that the Revueltas took their sister from them. Even if they don’t care about her, they’ll start a war to protect their pride,’ I explain, Mason nodding as though he thinks it’s a good idea.

‘So if the old bastard can’t be arsed, we’ll piss off the brothers instead?’ Mason confirms, and I nod. ‘But keep it to yourself for now. I don’t need the others discussing this,’ I warn him, and he draws a cross over his heart. ‘You know me, boss. Won’t breathe a word,’ he grins, and I raise an eyebrow at him, both of us knowing he’s a big mouth.

‘Check on her,’ he prompts, for the twentieth time in the last hour, and I shoot him a look. I hate being told what to do, and people seem to be trying to do it more often than they should at the moment. Nonetheless, I unlock my phone, checking the CCTV of the room she’s locked in again. She’s dozed off, head lolling forward with her chin against her chest, her back so straight that it even looks uncomfortable.

I feel a stab of guilt in my chest, and it makes me want to shoot something. I’ve done much worse to people for doing much less than she did, and I never felt guilty about any of them. But then again, none of them were as sexy as she is.

When Mason brought her into the office with the tape over her mouth, her hands tied behind her back and her body covered in blood, I felt heat rushing to my groin. I never thought I would find it hot to see a girl’s skin stained with her dead best friend’s blood, but here we are. Maybe it’s brainwashing from all those horror movies.

And that stare of hers. The anger in her eyes, the hard set of her jaw. Like a poodle puppy trying to be a rottweiler. Not to mention her mouth, the one she can’t seem to keep shut. No one’s ever spoken to me the way she did, looked at me the way she did, and gotten away alive. But there she was, ten minutes later, inspecting the knives in my cutlery drawer. I need to put a lock on that.

I can still feel her touch on my hand, bandaging up my cuts. Sophia usually deals with injuries but I thought I’d let her have a go, and I regretted it almost straight away. Her featherlight touches, her painted-white nails lightly scraping across my skin, the fact that my one hand is bigger than her two put together. My dick’s never gotten hard as quickly as it did that night.

Up close, her face looks different, especially since she wasn’t glaring at me. Relaxed, her features looked so delicate, fragile almost, and the softness of her cheeks made her look much younger. I wondered what her eyes would look like, but she didn’t look up from my hand once, focused on the task at hand with no interest for me.

And then she just carried on searching for food like nothing had happened, settling on the curly fries that I keep in the freezer for my niece when she’s here. She’s something else, with her dishwasher prejudices, her dietary requirements and her photography. Her phone has been calling out to me from where it’s locked in the safe under my desk, just begging me to go through it and see exactly what kind of photos she was talking about.

Since the moment I laid eyes on her, I’ve known I needed to get a deal sorted with her father to get her out of my house, so I phoned him as soon as Sophia, Kai, Trev and Christian left for their flight.

‘Reveulta. To what do I owe the pleasure?’ ‘We have her.’ ‘Ah, it was you? Well done.’ ‘Is that all you have to say?’ ‘I hope you’re not expecting threats or bargaining, because I don’t really need her back.’ ‘Cut the shit.’ ‘There is no… shit to cut, as you say. I was planning to offer her to you for marriage anyway. You’ve done me a favour, saved me all the negotiations.’ ‘…I don’t understand?’ ‘She’s my stepdaughter, Revuelta. As good to me as her mother is, and her mother’s dead now. So keep her, and do with her what you will. We’ll call it quits.’

The girl was right. He doesn’t care for her. I could let her go free today and her father probably wouldn’t even take her back in. He’s glad to be rid of her, and that brings a sick feeling to my stomach, which is quite irritating in all honesty.

As soon as I tell my men that she’s worth nothing, they’ll line up to either kill her or fuck her, and even the thought of it makes my blood boil. If any of them dare to put a hand on her, I’ll be the one doing the killing. I’m the one that kidnapped her, so she’s my toy to play with. My girl to break until she’s on her knees, begging for my mercy.

Though I’m sure it’s gonna take a lot of work. The girl is quite literally insane. Watching her on the CCTV, trying to break the lock on her door with a curtain pole, was the most entertaining 20 minutes of my life. And then, moments later, she burst into a made man’s office – his men sat around the room with guns in their hands – in a skimpy see-through t-shirt, nipples straining against the fabric, and her hands covered in blood. Again. It’s like she was sent to make sure I’m constantly hard.

Seeing her stand her ground, making complaints to a man that could kill her with his bare hands, I nearly pushed her down onto her knees and found a satisfying way to shut her up. Instead, I told her no one cares about her, dragged her up to the torture room, pressed a gun to her forehead and left her there to cry even though she begged me not to. Real smooth.

But it’s not like I didn’t give her an out less than 3 hours later! It’s not my fault she was too proud – or too unhinged – to take it. And, yes, it pissed me off, so I taped her mouth and tied her neck to the chair. That’s what happens when you don’t know that your place is beneath me.

‘Don’t you feel bad?’ Mason asks, stood behind me and looking at the screen again. ‘No. Do you?’ I ask, wondering if I need to rethink whether he should be my underboss. ‘No. It’s just… all she’s eaten in the last 50 hours is a plate of curly fries,’ he says quietly and, again, the guilt in my chest makes me want to kick something out of frustration.

‘I told her I’d leave her in there for a day. It hasn’t been a day yet.’ ‘Kepa, it’s been 20 hours. She won’t even know that it’s 4 hours less than what you promised,’ Mason says tiredly, as though I’m being unreasonable, and I remain silent for a few long moments, both of us watching her sleep on the screen. Well, I’m assuming she’s sleeping. She could be passed out from hunger for all we know.

‘There’s a loaf of gluten-free bread in the kitchen cupboard where we keep the normal bread, and there’s dairy-free cheese in the fridge. Go and make her a cheese sandwich. And use the dairy-free butter as well. Bring her down and then bring her the food from the kitchen. Leave the tape on her mouth and the cable tie around her wrists,’ I instruct, ignoring the dark voice inside me telling me to leave her there for another four hours.

‘Not gonna feed her things she can’t eat again?’ Mason asks with a cheeky grin as he heads across the room, and I shoot him a look. ‘Ten cuidado,’ I warn him, before continuing, ‘I don’t know why everyone thinks I was behind that. It wasn’t me.’ ‘It wasn’t?’ he asks sceptically, stopping in the door way, and I shake my head.

‘Our chef took it upon herself to explicitly ignore the instructions I gave her. I assume she didn’t like having to cook to certain dietary requirements,’ I say mildly, Mason’s eyebrows rising so high they disappear behind his hair. ‘Does that explain why I saw her dragging her bags out through the front door yesterday?’ he asks, and I shrug, both of us knowing that yes, it does explain it. If my staff disobey me, they don’t remain as my staff for much longer.

‘I can’t believe you fired her. She makes the best tacos,’ Mason grumbles, and I shake my head amusedly. ‘Get your new favourite prisoner to make them for you instead. It’s her fault your chef’s gone,’ I remind him, Mason visibly perking up at the mention of the girl.

It seems I’m not the only one she has an… odd effect on. Dios. I need to get her out of this house before she makes one of us do something stupid. And then I watch Mason bound off down the corridor to make her a sandwich with gluten-free bread and dairy-free cheese, and I realise that it’s already too late.

I distract myself with a few phone calls but my curiosity gets the better of me after a while and I check the CCTV footage again. My timing is perfect, Mason just entering the room as the live footage loads on my screen. He must have taken his time making her sandwich.

She’s awake now, eyeing him warily as he grins at her. He must crack a joke, her face softening like she’s laughing behind the tape over her mouth, and it makes me want to lock him up along with her. She hasn’t given me a single smile, and yet Mason seems to get one from her every time he opens his mouth.

I watch as he drops to one knee, cutting her legs free, before walking around to cut her neck free of the rope too. He helps her to her feet but her legs are clearly stiff, her knees giving way. Anger sparks in my chest as he slides an arm around her waist to keep her upright. They walk slowly towards the door, her shoulders shaking with laughter at something he says. Yeah, I’ve seen enough.

I lock my phone, dropping it to the desk so I don’t throw it against the wall, and I busy myself with scrolling through emails on my laptop. My eyes skim across the screen but none of the words go in, my focus elsewhere. I’m like a teenage girl standing at the window, waiting for her date to pick her up. What is wrong with me?

When the office doors open, I don’t look up, forcing myself to keep my eyes on the screen. I let them both stand there for as long as I can bear before I look up at Mason, ignoring her fiery stare as I dismiss him with a nod. He lets go of her, heading back out through the door, and I finally allow myself to look at her.

Her eyes are red and bleary, dark circles prominent beneath them. Her skin is a shade lighter than when I locked her in the room, and it’s almost as though she looks thinner after not eating much in the last couple days. She looks exhausted but still strong, like she’d rather spend another week locked in that room than comply with me. The girl’s a fighter, I’ll give her that.

‘Don’t look at me like that. You brought this on yourself,’ I remind her, the accusation in her eyes dimming slightly. At least she knows it’s her own fault. ‘This doesn’t have to be difficult. Believe it or not, I haven’t enjoyed treating you like this,’ I lie, the look in her eyes saying she doesn’t believe it for a second. This girl already knows me too well.

‘You’re a young girl, and you’re my… ¿cómo se dice en inglés? Leverage,’ I say, the word taking its time to come to me, and she rolls her eyes. I never knew someone could be so expressive with their eyes. She doesn’t even need to speak for me to know what she’s thinking.

‘I know you think you’re worthless to your stepfather, but you’re wrong. I have spoken to him,’ I say, the girl trying her hardest to remain nonchalant. She raises an eyebrow, as if to ask what we discussed, and I let out a soft laugh.

‘I do not discuss the details of my business con un rehén. But let’s just say that you will not be spending any more time tied to a chair. He wants you taken care of,’ I lie, the glimmer of hope that appears in her eyes sparking endearment in my chest, anger at myself following after it. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt affection, jealousy or guilt and, suddenly, this girl is making me feel all three.

‘You will be put back in your bedroom, without a lock on the door. You have freedom to roam around the house and the gardens as you wish. There is food in the kitchen that you can eat – not just curly fries – and you are free to make yourself meals whenever you want to. If you need anything, you speak to Mason or to me. And you do not, under any circumstances, burst into my office without knocking again. Am I understood?’ I ask, the thought that I’m an absolute idiot echoing in my mind.

She tries to hide the surprise and relief but it’s clear to see in the way her eyebrows rise ever-so-slightly, in the way her shoulders lose their tension. ‘I asked if I’m understood,’ I say, my voice becoming harsher, and she nods after a short moment. ‘Bien,’ I say as Mason re-enters the room, a plate in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

‘Cut her wrists free and take the tape from her mouth,’ I tell him, and I watch her as her eyes follow the plate, her pupils practically dilating at the sight of food. He puts the plate and glass down on my desk before going back to her, cutting the cable tie behind her back and slowly peeling the tape from her mouth. She doesn’t wince this time.

She lets out a soft sigh when her mouth is free, taking the glass from Mason and gulping down the water like a woman parched. Well… I suppose she is a woman parched. Mason wasn’t wrong the other day – watching her drink like this is pretty hot.

He refills the glass for her before getting the first aid kit from one of the shelves across the room. At the sight of the kit, she looks surprised before remembering her hands are bloody from destroying the lock on her door.

I should be on the phone or on my laptop but I can’t take my eyes away from her as Mason cleans her hands with an antiseptic wipe – it’s a bit late considering she’s had those cuts on her hands for nearly an entire day, but he’s not used to cleaning wounds, which is obvious with how he puts around ten small plasters on each of her hands instead of one big bandage. He means well. Again, she doesn’t wince, and I give myself credit for hardening her against small pains. She’ll thank me for this one day.

She thanks him with a small smile once he’s done, her voice so soft I can’t even hear it, only able to make out what she says from the movement of her lips. ‘Sit down,’ he tells her, pointing to one of the sofas, and she does so, her body visibly relieved at finally sitting on a comfortable surface. He takes her the plate, and she raises an eyebrow, her disbelieving gaze directed at me. He gets smiles and thank yous, and I get glares and scepticism.

‘It’s gluten-free bread, and dairy-free cheese. No nuts in either,’ I say drily, mild guilt appearing on her face. And then she surprises me by asking, ‘Promise?’ Is this girl for real? ‘Yes. I promise,’ I say begrudgingly, and that’s all she needs to lift the sandwich to her mouth, taking a bite.

If she has any reservations about eating in front of men, she doesn’t show them, eating in the most unladylike manner I’ve ever seen in my life. She devours the gluten-free and dairy-free sandwich – which I can only imagine tastes like cardboard – as though it’s a gourmet meal prepared by a Michelin star chef. Mason and I watch her, both of us unreasonably fascinated, but she pays no attention to us, her focus on the rapidly depleting food in front of her.

Once she’s finished, she drinks some water before croaking out her thanks. Thanking us for feeding her a shitty sandwich after tying her to a chair and leaving her with nothing but her thoughts for almost an entire day. This girl is too soft. ‘I’ll make you another one,’ Mason says, taking the plate from her and practically sprinting out of the room. I really need to have a word with him.

My phone begins ringing after a moment and I answer the call, barely able to focus on the conversation while she’s sat in the room. She’s trying to pretend she’s not listening, her eyes taking in the details of the room, but I can tell she’s eavesdropping and understanding a fair bit of what I say. I did my research, so I know she studied Spanish growing up, alongside several other languages. I suddenly wonder what it’d be like to hear her speak Spanish, the thought making my blood warm.

I block her out of my mind, focusing on the voice on the other end of the phone, and I only allow myself to look at her when the call is finished, a small smile finding its way to my lips. So much has happened in this room, other than just business. Fights, sex, drinking, poker, murder, drugs, torture. But nothing as odd as this girl curled up in the corner of a sofa, sleeping soundly in one of my old t-shirts.

#kepa arrizabalaga smut #kepa arrizabalaga fluff #kepa arrizabalaga fanfic #kepa arrizabalaga imagine #kepa smut #kepa fanfic #kepa arrizabalaga angst #kepa arrizabalaga

40 notes · View notes

starogeorgina · 27 days

Text

𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐚

Paring: Daemon Targaryen × reader, Harwin Strong x reader, Criston Cole x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut, child birth

1.03

You blink away unshed tears as you stare up at Ser Harwin; the look on his face was earth-shattering. No traces of anger or bitterness could be detected on his handsome face; the softness in his eyes made you feel nothing but guilt. You should never have believed the rumors, given into your husband's taunting or gone near Criston Cole.

You’re unaware that you’re crying until Harwin wipes them away with the pads of his thumb. “Prince Daemon told me your news; congratulations, princess.” He leans forward and kisses your forehead, and in a quiet voice, he says, “He also told me what he said to you. I wish I’d known sooner.”

Ser Harwin wasn’t a fool; he knew his beloved princess’s outburst of believing the rumors surrounding him and Princess Rhaenyra being true hadn’t come from thin air, but he had no idea Daemon was the one behind it. The Targaryen prince thrived in chaos, but after causing so much damage, the knight was grateful to be away from the keep for some time; otherwise, he might have done something to get himself executed.

“Do you forgive me?”

Harwin sighs, “There’s nothing to forgive. It was a misunderstanding.”

Pouting, you shake your head. “I should never have doubted you... henujagon īlva, valzȳrys.” (Leave us, husband.)

You wait until you hear Daemon leave; he didn’t need to be involved in your conversation, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist if he was within earshot. You take Harwin’s large hand in yours and say, “I love my husband; he’s the other half of me. Targaryens are made to burn together, but I love you too. I don’t know how to explain it; it’s a different kind of love. Since I was a girl, I always knew I’d marry Daemon, regardless of how I felt, but I chose to be with you. You make me feel safe and—”

“What is it you’re trying to tell me?” Harwin wipes away another fallen tear. “I’ve memorized each time you’ve confessed your love to me, which is how I know something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t know whose baby this is. I forgot to drink moon tea after the last time we lay together.”

His blue eyes fill with tears. “Prince Daemon will be the father.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your heart aches a little when Harwin hugs you; he was a good man. A far better person than you, Daemon, or Criston. He wasn’t selfish, violent, or entitled. You only wish you’d never questioned his loyalty to begin with.

“There’s something else I need to tell you.”

—

As the months passed, your body changed, and the gorgeous gowns you had made could no longer hide how large your bump had gotten. Rhaenyra often thought you were carrying more than one baby when your bump first started to swell, but now you were convinced she was right.

Daemon smooths his hand gently over the fabric of your dress, feeling the baby kick beneath. You were comfortable laying on your left side with multiple pillows fluffed around you to keep you in that position. Your husband lay behind you with his face nuzzling into the side of your neck.

“Have you spoken much with Ser Harwin?”

“No,” you say, feeling your lip tremble slightly. “Perhaps it is for the best; the less he is near during my pregnancy, the less people will talk.”

Daemon kisses your cheek. “The baby could look exactly like us, and the Greens would still gossip. I suspect the same will happen with Rhaenyra as soon as she has an heir.”

Your sister and her husband, Ser Laenor, had gone to visit various houses in the realm on behalf of your father, who was too ill to travel the distance himself. Although they had gone on dragonback, a large number of knights, including Ser Harwin, had been sent to protect them. When you confessed your antics with Cole to Ser Harwin, he was mad for a while but insisted he still wanted to be with you; he just needed some time.

“And what if the baby doesn’t look like us?” You knew no matter what, you’d love and protect your child fiercely, but you needed reassurance from Daemon. “I’ve been beyond foolish; I’ve given them the opportunity to make my child’s life miserable before they are even born.”

“I will cut out the tongues of anyone who dares question the legitimacy of our child. Any baby you have will be an extension of you; it would be impossible for me not to love them.” He rubs his hand along your stomach again. “This is my son or daughter growing inside you. Nothing anyone says will change that.”

—

“Princess, it’s time to push again.”

“I can’t! I can’t!” You sob, clutching onto the bed sheets tightly. The pain was overwhelming; you were convinced this is what dying felt like.

“Push!”

The midwives help guide you through the last few pushes until your daughter finally enters the room. She is placed on your chest, and you sob with happiness, “She’s perfect—oh fuck.”

Your daughter is quickly carried away to be cleaned up as the midwife pushes your legs open again. “Time to do this second time, princess.”

—

Daemon hums while gently rocking your daughter Daella to sleep, while your son Gaemon suckles at your breast. They were only a few hours old, but it already felt like you'd spent a lifetime loving them.

“Perhaps when you are feeling up to it, we can pick dragon eggs for the baby’s.”

You smile and say, “That would be nice.”

With Syrax having laid another clutch of dragon eggs, you were on your way to the dragon pit to pick one while being accompanied by your husband and sworn protector, but before you could leave the courtyard, your waters broke. Ser Harwin immediately picked you up and carried you back to your chambers, while Daemon sent for the maester and midwives.

“There, there,” Daemon says before gently placing your daughter into the crib next to your bed.

You smile down at her. Daella shares your pale complexion; her silver hair and the shade of her purple eyes were an exact match for yours. Gaemon got almost all his features from you, like his sister; his skin was pale and his hair silver, except his eyes were a dark brown.

“I think he’s had his feed,” you say when Gaemon stops feeding and his eyelids slowly start to close.

Daemon takes him from your arms so you can readjust your nightgown. He kisses the baby on the forehead. “They really are perfect.”

—

Sitting underneath the weirwood tree, she smiles as Daella attempts to walk along one of the thick roots sticking out of the ground, with your loyal knight Ser Harwin right behind her, ready to catch her the second she slips. Gaemon lays back, his head resting against your legs, as you read a story about dragons out loud. Both eggs had hatched in the cradle, and your children were now getting to the age where they understood how powerful and magical dragons are.

“Careful, princess,” Harwin says softly. “Slow down before you fall.”

Daella grins up at the knight before jumping onto a different root. It wouldn’t be long before curiosity got the better of her, and she attempted to climb the tree.

When screeching comes from the distance, Gaemon points to the sky and says, “Mama, look! It’s kepa!”

You look up and see the Blood Wyrm flying in the direction of the dragonpit. Daemon always made a point of returning from dragon riding before supper time so he could dine with his family. When you lower your gaze from the sky, you are met with the cold gaze of Ser Criston Cole. You often notice the knight observing your son and daughter from a distance, but he makes no attempt to interact with them.

Although Cole would never admit it, you had a feeling he would risk his life for them just as Daemon and Harwin would.

—

Harwin takes one of the pebbled nipples into his mouth while you lean over him, your hands pressing against his chest. Daemon kisses the back of your neck, occasionally nipping at your sensitive skin with his teeth as he thrusts into you from behind. Over time, the three of you had come to an agreement that when the time came and you wished to have another baby, you and Harwin couldn’t fuck as you normally would, eliminating any chances of him getting you pregnant since you wouldn’t be drinking moon tea. But you still wanted to be intimate with Harwin, and your ever-devoted husband came up with an idea.

Daemon’s voice is cocky as he says, “So, Ser Harwin, how do you feel about our princess taking what she wants from us at the same time?”

Harwin grins. “Do you think you could take both of us?”

“Yes, I want you both.”

“Greedy girl!” Daemon smacks your ass.

Your heart races with anticipation at the thought of having both of them inside you at the same time. You're used to making love to them both, but this would feel different—more intimate, more primal. Harwin and Daemon had mutual respect for one another, but they mainly bonded over how much they loved your little family.

Your husband chuckles softly, his warm breath caressing your ear. “You’ll get what you desire, my love. I’ve bet you’ve thought about this plenty of times before, haven’t you?”

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you nod.

A princess is desperate to feel her husband and lover fill her up at the same time.

Daemon slowly withdraws his shaft from your cunny, leaving you aching for more. He sits down on the bed beside Harwin, but before you have the chance to move over to his lap, the knight hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls you up until you are hovering over his face. Not wasting time, Harwin starts flicking at your sensitive clit with his tongue.

Daemon smirks as he listens to your whine. He had already ‘prepared’ both your holes before Harwin joined you in the bedchamber. After coming apart on Harwin’s lips, Daemon gently pulls the small cock-shaped object from your anus, then pulls you onto his lap so you are facing him, and slides his cock into your cunny again.

He leans back and pulls you down with him, gripping your shoulders and spreading them while Harwin readjusts himself behind you. The thought of having them both causes your clitoral area to throb, “Please.”

Harwin guides his thick cock to where you’re aching for him. With a gentle nudge, he pushes past your resistance and enters your tight hole. You gasp as he fills you completely. The sensation of having them both inside you is foreign and exhilarating. Harwin begins to rock his hips gently, slowly pulling them out before pushing them back in again, while Daemon thrusts upwards at a harsher pace.

“How does it feel? Daemon asks, pinching your nipple between his fingers. “Good as you imagined?”

“So, so good.”

Your mind becomes hazy with pleasure when one of them starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. You come apart, squeezing both of them tightly. Harwin shoots his seed inside you, then Daemon follows shortly after, coating your cunny in his seed, which he will hopefully take.

The knight slowly pulls you out, then brushes your sweaty hair out of your face and kisses you deeply. Daemon smirks, “Take your time catching your breath, my good knight, as we will be here all night.”

266 notes · View notes

julianalvarez9 · 1 year

Text

your name on me / kepa arrizabalaga

warnings: smut, praise kink, secret relationship, pet names (little one, princess, pretty boy), idk if i forgot something 🧐

author's note: let's pretend it's the armband !!!! i don't know if i like it or not yet but i wanted to post something for saturday's win!!!

pairing: potter!daughter x kepa arrizabalaga

wc: 1.6k words

the cheers around you are deafening, but this is exactly where you want to be: on the box, at stamford bridge, just after the whistle ends and the match is won by the blue team. it feels good to be on the winning side again, and even more so, after the last couple of matches that were certainly rough, not only on the overall team and players, but on your father, too. it hadn't been long since he had come in charge of chelsea, and things were not going brilliantly before, but now, the entire directorial table was in the eye of the storm, including your dad, and both the fans and the team were expecting positive results. quickly.

that's why the normal sweet taste of victory felt even more sweet today. the rush it usually brought now amplified by a thousand after not tasting it for so long, which was almost enough to single handedly drive you towards the locker rooms, looking for one person only. and certainly, not your dad.

"you did good today, kepa," you congratulate him when you catch the man alone in the room, just as you expected. it's not the first time you encounter the goalkeeper in this situation, or in this place, but it's the first time you're the one to initiate contact after a couple of weeks without talking or touching. kepa would be lying if he said he hadn't waited for a bit longer than he needed, even after his teammates had left, hoping and praying you came to find him here, after the match he just played: a clean sheet and the armband enough to keep his beautiful smile on his face ever since the whistle blew, signaling the end of the game.

"you think so, little one?" he said through a devilish smirk. the seemingly sweet, affectionate words from one friend to another coming from his mouth having a whole different meaning to you, and lighting the sinful flame in your eyes. kepa was coming close to you with every step he took in your direction, almost like a hunter closing onto his prey, and effectively cornering you against the lockers. his big frame was towering over yours, the chelsea shirt you wore engulfing your figure and making you seem smaller than you were.

"you were captain for a reason," you shrugged, trying to maintain his gaze. you two were accustomed to this, it wasn't new by any means: ever since your dad arrived at the club, and with that, your presence became a constant in every match or practice the team had, the goalkeeper had developed a special type of fondness for you. one that could only be satisfied when you were under him.

"i think i deserve some special treatment, don't you think so, princesa?" he called, palm softly caressing your cheek. you leaned over his touch, almost forgetting where you were and how difficult it would be to explain why chelsea's goalkeeper was touching the manager's daughter in such a loving gesture. thankfully, the cold metal from the locker door against your hot skin reminded you of your whereabouts. "stop," you muttered, suddenly too aware of your surroundings. "my dad could come in at any moment," you reminded, but it didn't seem to faze him.

"you're sure you want me to stop?" he taunts, fingertips running down your abdomen until he reaches your core against your leggings. your body betrays you when your hips buck into his hand, and he smiles mischievously at your involuntary reaction. "no lo creo, princesa" (i don't think so, princess), he whispers, sending chills all over your body with a simple sentence.

kepa kisses you feverishly, like he had been deprived of it for way too long. his grips against your hips is hard, not letting you move an inch away from him and where he wants you to stay, and you know that by tomorrow his thumbs will be imprinted bruises on your skin. he starts directing your body, almost blindly, towards the showers, a place a bit more private where you can actually hide if someone came into the changing rooms. once there, he can do as he pleases, and begins placing wet kisses on your neck, tilting your head back a little with a gentle tug of your hair.

it's not the first time that you're in this situation, and that's why he knows exactly what you need, what your body craves. still, you get the chance to voice your pleas. "kepa, fuck, do something," you whisper at him, your hips bucking against his hand again, looking for some kind of friction. he complies, like he always does, because he doesn't know how to say no to you. his warm hands reach instead to the elastic of your leggings and he pulls, almost ripping them out of you, along with your shirt.

you're almost completely naked while he remains entirely clothed on the team's uniform, so you yank his jersey, desperate for him to take it off. kepa obeys, crossing his arms and lifting his shirt from the back, exposing his chiseled abdominals first. in the middle of it a thought occurs, and his eyes suddenly turn black. "put it on," he demands, and you do what he says, sliding into the shirt with the grass stains and his last name on the back.

he takes the rest of his clothes in a rush, partly because he knows there's not too much time, but mostly because the sight of you wearing his shirt fuels him an indescriptible amount, and it drives him insane. kepa bites at your exposed collarbone to try and keep the grunts at bay while his hands wander all over your figure, and you moan in surprise. you have to remind yourself to keep quiet, as his stern gaze advises too, and you turn to bite your lips instead, almost drawing blood, before emitting another sound.

"tell me that i did good. in spanish," he demands, voice rough against your ear once he has bottomed out inside you. it takes you a moment to comply, but when you do, he starts moving again. "lo hiciste bien," (you did good) you get to say over your ragged breath, and he starts quickening his pace. "lo estás, fuck, lo estás haciendo bien ahora, pretty boy" (you're doing good now). kepa groans at hearing your seductive tone, and as you let out breathy moans against his ear he readjustes your body, lifting one of your legs up, and allowing him to thrust deeper into you. you look hungrily for his lips again, trying to stop the noises from coming out in response to his fastening thrusts.

you know you're about to tip off the abyss, and he knows your body so well to be aware of it too, so he inserts two of his fingers into his mouth to wet them before drawing small circles against your clit. the action is what finally pushes you towards the edge, and you tremble under his touch until you're spent. kepa pulls out, giving himself a couple of firm strokes before actually emptying his load down the drain.

your eyes are closed, holding on to him for dear life as you try to even out your breath before dressing up again and put on the act again: pretend he's only your dad's player, nothing more. but his hands cover your mouth before you can say a word, and your confused stare is meet with his panicked one. he tilts his head, pointing to the door that's far from where you two are currently, but not enough to remain hidden if someone dared to search the entire place. kepa thinks it's just the cleaning staff, but the voice that's heard begs to differ. "is someone here?" potter asks into the void. he signals for you to stay quiet, while he slips back into his boxers and shorts before going to keep your father from finding you here.

"sorry, sir, didn't know you were still here," kepa greeted your dad, who had just come into the locker room. his hair remained disheveled thanks to the tugging and pulling you had worked on minutes before, and his torso was bare. you wished that he would stay facing him just so that your father couldn't see the bright red scratches that kepa had on his back. "well, i could say the same about you!", he cheerily said. "why's my captain still in the locker rooms, and not out there celebrating? and where's your shirt?".

his eyes widened for a moment, and nothing else came into mind, so he resolved to the truth. at least, part of it. "o-oh, i gave it to my girlfriend. i had come here to change and head out", he explains. it's not far from the truth, except for the little detail that slipped from his lips: you're not his girlfriend.

that's actually what he hates most about this situationship in which you two were in: not being capable of calling you his. your encounters are always hidden, behind closed doors, and he can't wait until you give him the green light to ask you to be together. officially. for now, though, he has to accept what you're willing to give him: whispered moans, longing stares and lustful touches.

"well, good for you, arrizabalaga!," potter brings him back to reality, palming his shoulder affectionately before deciding to head out. except, he comes back to ask one last thing. "don't you happen to know where my daughter went? been looking for her for the past 30 minutes".

"sorry, sir, i have no idea".

#football x y/n #football x reader #football imagine #football x you #kepa arrizabalaga x you #kepa arrizabalaga x y/n #kepa arrizabalaga x reader #kepa arrizabalaga imagine #kepa arrizabalaga smut

308 notes · View notes

spider-alvarez · 4 months

Text

Kepa and Mase 😄 🎧

45 notes · View notes

neverinadream · 2 years

Text

Keep Quiet, Can You Do That?

Summary: At dinner with your friends, you and Kepa get up to no good in your kitchen.

Pairing: Kepa Arrizabalaga x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Nonsense - Sabrina Carpenter

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, established relationship, dom!kepa, sub!reader, pet names (princesa, cariño, good girl...), a tad bit of degradation kink - if you squint hard enough, praise kink, fingering, a smidge of begging, quickie, unprotected sex, your friends are in the other room, not proofread

Notes: it's been a while since I wrote for Kepa, so please be nice. Feedback is always welcome!!!

Bracing yourself against the kitchen counter, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down as hard as you possibly could, but failing miserably to keep your whimpers at bay as his fingers curl inside of you, two fingers slick with a mixture of your spit and wetness stretching your pussy.

"Kepa," you breathe out his name, your head tucked into his chest, hips rolling into his hand as his thumb brushes against your clit. You feel him smiling against your shoulder, the strap of your dress pulled down off of your shoulder, granting him more access to your body. "Kepa, someone's going to notice we've been gone too long," you warn him, lifting your head and letting your eyes pan over to the kitchen door, which was still cracked open, just a little bit.

He presses his finger to your lips, shushing you and tutting under his breath. "What happened to staying quiet for me?" His voice rings in your ears, an accent so rich it had your thighs tensing and your pussy clenching around his fingers. He smirks. "What is it, cariño?" You bite dowm harder on your bottom lip, whimpering as his voice hits your ear in a slow drawl. "Worried someone might catch us?" He slows his rhythm, his thumb reducing to slow circles against your clit, the two fingers curling each time they slipped back inside you. "No ones coming in here," he tells you, like it was a promise of sorts, "they're too busy having fun; they'll never know that I'm about to fuck you."

Removing one hand from from the kitchen counter, you touch the side of his neck, wrapping it around. "Please, Kepa," you mumble, begging against his lips as you bring him closer. Your lips lightly press against his, Kepa making you chase him for the kiss; whining, your hand grips him tighter, pulling him back to you. "Just fuck me before someone comes in."

"Can you promise me you'll be quiet?" He asks, slowly slipping his fingers out of you, catching your faint whimpers on his lips as he kisses you. "Or..." He snaps the waistband of your panties, the sound of it slapping your skin echoing in the quiet kitchen. "...or will I have to gag you with your own panties?" Lifting you up onto the kitchen counter, he unzips his pants, that low but quick sound setting your body aflame with anticipation. "¿Qué será, princesa?"

"Quiet," you whisper, running your hands up his arms and gripping onto his shoulders, "I can be quiet."

The head of his cock is right there, pushing at your opening, teasing you, and if you didn't feel him inside of you for another second, you might just lose your mind. Explode even.

"Fuck," Kepa rasps out, thrusting into you and filling you up as much as he possibly could. His hand runs up your thigh, squeezing your ass and lifting you a little bit away from the counter, pulling you as close as possible to him. He gasps when you wrap your legs tightly around his waist, your heels digging harshly into the bottom of his back. "Leave them on," he mumbles, like he had just read your mind.

Shamelessly and impatiently, you grind into him, biting your bottom lip so hard that you were worried you might just draw some blood. God, you wanted to scream. To be as loud as you could. To let the whole city know just how good Kepa could make you feel. But for your friends to find out you were being fucked in the next room, it left your cheeks feeling uncomfortably warm.

He's whispering something in Spanish under his breath, bumping his forehead agaisnt yours. "You're doing so well for me - keeping all nice and quiet for me," his grip tightens, groaning at the feeling of you fluttering around him, "especially when I know how loud you like to be, but we can't let them know, can we?" You shake your head but your barely listening to him. "We can't let all of our friends know you're being a whore," he speaks low into your ear, nipping at your lope, like he was purposely trying to make you break your vow of silence, "can we?"

Again, you shake your head.

Pleasure tingles up your spine, that familiar tightening in your stomach and thighs. "Shit," you breathe into his shoulder, breaking your vow of silence and burying your face into his body. One hand slips between your bodies and underneath your dress, touching yourself, the tips of your fingers circling your clit. "I'm not going to last much longer."

"That's okay," he hums, gripping you even tighter to almost mask how sloppy his movements had become, "just cum for me."

Your orgasm rings in your ears and the heat travels from your core, shooting up your spine and washes all over our body, leaving you pulsing and fluttering around him. His voice soothes you, whispering in your ear, calling you his good girl, praising you for doing as you were told. Even as Kepa bottoms out, finishing inside of you and slowly pulling out, and your feet touch the ground, your body still tingles and your ears were still ringing.

Kepa fixes his clothes, running his fingers through his hair and leans past you to grab the bottle of wine. He kisses you, letting his lips brush lovingly over your cheek. "I'll take this into them," he says, chuckling as he looks at the state of you, all fucked out, your lipstick smudged, "and you should get yourself cleaned up." His thumb touches your bottom lip. "It's smudged."

Football taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens @ofxinnocence @1-800-benji-chilwell @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @sereshawsbby @greykitkepa

#kepa arrizabalaga #kepa arrizabalaga imagine #kepa arrizabalaga smut #kepa arrizabalaga one shot #kepa arrizabalaga fanfic #kepa arrizabalaga fic #kepa arrizabalaga x reader #kepa arrizabalaga x y/n

369 notes · View notes

footballffbarbiex · 2 years

Text

Pay Attention.

player: kepa arrizabalaga words: 567 warnings: fingering. request: oh yes kepa smut after his incredible saves today omg. anything with his hands >>>

You should have known how this would end when he sat you between his thighs with your back to his chest. He’d also lasted longer than you thought, making it to almost the 30-minute mark of the movie before you’d felt his fingers stroking from your knee to the tops of your thighs. Kepa had said that he hadn’t wanted to do anything special following his team’s win, even though you’d watched as his confidence had flourished with every save, especially the ones in quick succession that left him breathless but ecstatic.

“We can’t celebrate each time I have a good match,” he’d justified and though you knew he was right deep down, it didn’t stop you from wanting to celebrate. He’d settled with a cheat meal and asked to put on a movie that he’d been wanting to watch - on the condition you sat between his legs.

You’re trying to concentrate on what’s happening on the screen, but your mind is screaming for you to ignore it and focus on his fingers which are now stroking over your panties. You don’t need him to make a comment about how wet you are because you can feel the way the material sticks to you and the damp drag of them as he moves his fingers over your folds, against your slit and over your quickly swelling clit.

You refuse to verbally beg him for anything, but your body does the begging for you. Your hips involuntarily buck and grind greedily against his touch, your back arches to allow you to grind your pussy harder against his touch. And that’s when you feel it. The first slap to your pussy makes you jut your hips and a yelp leaves you.

“You’re going to sit here and watch the movie.” He speaks in such a calm voice, anyone not paying attention to the way his fingers pull aside your underwear and you finally feel him make direct contact. “And you’re going to pay attention.” Two slender fingers trace up your slit, your wetness now covering his fingertips as he pushes them back down and enters you.

“So wet,” he praises as you take yet another finger knuckle before he pulls back, almost pulling out of you completely before pushing back in and curling them upwards, creating a beckoning motion within you and hitting that sensitive spot when you take as much as his fingers can give. His palm nudges against your clit, the combination makes your eyes grow heavy and a small, pathetic whine sounds from you.

“Are you still watching?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t quite hear that.”

“Yes.” You say it louder, pushing yourself back down onto his fingers when he tries to pull them out. It’s a pathetic excuse of an attempt, you know perfectly well that he could pull you away from him as easily as pulling a fly from fruit. But he lets you think you hold that power and as deeply as his fingers are within your pussy, you know that too.

“What happened in the last scene?”

His fingers stall, remaining within you but no longer moving. You try to think but it’s not working. Your eyes had focused on the screen as well as trying to hold a conversation underwater with someone above it. “I don’t know.” you confess.

“Well, when you remember, I’ll start again. But for now - pay attention.”

If you’d like to be added/removed/update your URL, then please let me know here. Crossed out means that tumblr cannot find your blog at this time.

Kepa Arrizabalaga: @in-my-body-bag |

#Kepa Arrizabalaga one shot #Kepa Arrizabalaga imagine #Kepa Arrizabalaga blurb #Kepa Arrizabalaga drabble #Kepa Arrizabalaga smut #football one shot #football imagine #football blurb #football drabble #football fanfic #football fanfiction #footballer one shot #footballer imagine #footballer blurb #footballer drabble #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction

217 notes · View notes

mxsonxmountx · 1 year

Text

Kepa Arrizabalaga AU: Your Birthday

Kepaarrizabalaga: happy birthday to my beautiful girlfriend. Been with you since we were kids, now we’re still together. I love you my pretty girl.

Masonmount: happy birthday darling!

Liked by yourpriv

Kepalover: sorry what? You’ve got a girlfriend? Why can’t we see her face. Bet she’s ugly. You should be dating me

↪️kepa4ever: that’s rude, in fact I’ve seen her at many games and she’s the most prettiest art I’ve ever seen. Happy birthday darling, we love you

Liked by user

Liked by yourpriv

Chelseafc: many happy returns

Liked by yourpriv

Yoursister: happy birthday, can’t wait to see you the weekend!

Liked by yourpriv

Yourbestfriend: happy birthday princess!

Liked by your priv

Yourpriv: I love you 💙

Kaihavertz29: happy birthday queen, see you at the weekend

Liked by yourpriv

Thiagosilva: happy birthday!

Liked by yourpriv

Liked by: kepaarrizabalaga, kepa4ever, yourbestfriend and 987,560 others

Yourpriv: been truly blessed for another birthday with my best friend. Wouldn’t be here without you. Kepaarrizabalaga I love you forever and always.

Reecejames: happy birthday queen, looking forward to the party!

Liked by user

Benchilwell: happy birthday sweetheart xx

Liked by user

Kepa4ever: happy birthday to one of the most precious ladies that makes our man happy. Hope you have the best day ever. Love you

↪️thank you my darling. Kepa gave me the gifts, I love them all

Masonmount: happy birthday my little sis, love you

↪️thank you bro, can’t wait to celebrate with you on the weekend

Yourbestiefriend: happy birthday to my prettiest girl, I love you more than you can ever imagine. Cannot wait to celebrate with you on the weekend!

↪️can’t wait to be with you

Kepaarrizabalaga: I love you

↪️I love you so much more

Kepaarrizabalaga: my pretty girl

↪️your pretty girl xxxx

Kepaarrizabalaga: my whole world

↪️💙🌏

#kepa arrizabalaga one shot #kepa arrizabalaga imagine #kepa arrizabalaga smut #kepa arrizabalaga #kepa arrizabalaga x reader #kepa Arrizabalaga x y/n #instagram au #kepa Arrizabalaga au #Mxsonxmountx

128 notes · View notes

easemysoul · 2 years

Text

Relax - Kepa Arrizabalaga

For the lovely, @toastykepa ❤️ Thank you @greykitkepa for being an amazing beta reader and motivating me!

Mafia!Kepa x Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluffy-ish, sort of smut

Word count: 720

Summary:

Helping a moody and stressed out Mafia!Kepa to relax.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You let out a hum when you spot Kepa sitting at his desk. He looks down at a contract of some sort, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned down in a soft frown.

“Hi baby.” You mumble with a small smile.

Kepa looks up and throws a tired smile your way before looking back down at the paper resting on his desk. He lets out a small hum before mumbling “Hi.” You pout at his response, he always greets you with a large smile and soft eyes full of love and happiness.

Your heels click on the wooden floor as you continue walking towards him. He’s still zoned out and focusing on reading when you reach him. You feel his shoulders start to relax when you place one of your hands on the shoulder closest to you. You rest against his desk, your knee just touching his slack covered thigh and the edge of his desk pressing into the back of your thighs. His lips part and a soft sigh slips out as you drag your hand from his shoulder to cup his cheek.

“Mírame, mi amor” You whisper, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. His shoulders drop and he leans back into his chair, you can see the stress and worry slowly leave his body. His eyes finally move from the contract sitting on his desk to look up at you, his face softening in seconds.

“Lo siento, amor.” Kepa mumbles, one of his large hands moving across your lap to rest on your hip, bringing you closer to him.

You give him a small smile. “It’s okay, baby.” Leaning down, you press a kiss to the top of his head. Kepa relaxes into his chair more. Another sigh falls from his mouth. He tips his head back, his hand still resting on your thigh, his thumb now rubbing small circles over the thin fabric of your silk dress.

You watch him have a moment to himself, closing his eyes as each muscle in his body loosens up. He doesn’t move when you grab his hand and stand up. He hums and a small smirk slowly appears on his face when he feels you straddle him in his office chair.

“You need to relax, bebé.” You mumble, settling down on his thick thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. You bring yourself as close to him as you can, pressing your chest against his.

Kepa tilts his head back as you trail soft kisses from the corner of his mouth to his neck. A quiet whine falls from his parted lips when you nip at his skin, creating a small mark on his neck just below his ear. He lets out another whine, feeling one of your hands drag down his body to the zipper of his black slacks. He chokes on a sigh as you unbutton them, undoing the zipper soon after.

Pulling your mouth away from his neck, you look over your work, smirking at the little purple marks scattered across his skin. “So pretty.” You whisper, leaning in to press your lips against his. He groans against your mouth, allowing your tongue to slip inside. You hold back a gasp when his hips push up against you, allowing you to feel how hard he is under you.

“Sé un buen chico para mí, mi amor.” You pull away from him and whisper against his red lips. You tangle your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and gently tug on it, causing his head to tilt back and his neck to be on full show to you. His lips part and a small gasp falls from his mouth, feeling more turned on from the slight pain and hearing you being so dominant.

“You’re my good boy, right baby?” You mumble, slithering a hand between both of you to gently cup him over his boxers. You smirk when his thighs twitch, knowing he’s beyond sensitive and ready for whatever you have planned. Kepa nods his head in reply, his eyes closing shut as he lets out a deep breath.

“Words, baby. Use your words.” You whisper.

“Si. Si, soy tu buen chico.” He manages to gasp out as you gently massage him, feeling him grow harder in the palm of your hand.

#kepa arrizabalaga #kepa arrizabalaga fluff #kepa arrizabalaga smut #smut #my fics:lost-under-the-sun #chelsea #chelsea fc #kepa arrizabalaga x reader #football fics #football imagines

103 notes · View notes

sergioperez4life · 2 years

Text

Is it a possibility I could marry all three of them?

115 notes · View notes

kepamount · 2 years

Text

scary movie 👻

kepa arrizabalaga x reader x mason mount - a smutty ghostface one shot

warnings: explicit hard smut, sort of scary?? (y/n thinks she's being attacked by a murderer), potentially triggering content so please read at your own discretion!! sub!reader, dom!kepa & dom!mason, double penetration, anal, oral sex (m and f receiving), choking, slapping, dirty talk, degradation and praise, pet names, edging, overstim, crying, fingering, face-fucking, knife kink, mask kink, i think that's it but lmk if i missed something!

word count: 10.9k+ (she's big)

a/n: happy halloween bitches! i've literally been getting ready for a night out and i suddenly remembered that i wrote this lmao so here you go! this is not at all edited so pls be warned about spelling and grammar mistakes (i literally wrote this in a brainrot over night so it's probably almost unintelligible lol), and i don't have time to double check my warnings but this is kind of intense so pls pls be careful reading it! x

The shrill ringing of my phone breaks the calm atmosphere in the house, making me jump out of my skin. I pause the episode of Pretty Little Liars as I get up from the sofa, wineglass in hand, and I head into the kitchen, my phone sat on the counter. My heart lifts with the thought that it’s probably my boyfriend calling to let me know he’s on his way home from work, but disappointment floods through me when I see that the screen’s lit up with an unknown number. I reject the call with an irritated sigh before checking if Kepa’s texted me, but our last communication was a few hours ago.

I decide to distract myself by checking on the pasta in the oven (I always cover the top with a thick layer of cheese and put it in the oven for it to get nice and melty, just how he likes it). I don’t cook very often, but I thought I’d make dinner as a surprise for my boyfriend tonight. He’s been really busy recently – all the training and travelling and exhaustion from matches has meant we haven’t been spending a lot of time together. And the time we have managed to spend together is usually a couple hours with dinner in front of the TV until he’s snoring loud enough to make the neighbours’ dog bark.

To cut a long story short, I need Kepa to rail me before I lose my mind. They always say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but unlike other men, Kepa’s stomach leads to his dick. A good homecooked meal and a couple glasses of wine? The man’s ready to go all night. So I’m hoping a candlelit dinner tonight will lead to him bending me over the table. I even put on my good lingerie set, so I’ll be very disappointed if this doesn’t go to plan.

My phone starts ringing again, the unknown number persisting, but I reject the call. I don’t have enough patience to deal with a call centre right now. I knock back my wine, pouring out another glass and knocking back half of that too, my body full of impatient energy. I just want him to get home so I can touch him and kiss him. He’s been even sexier than usual recently, looking all big and hot in the goal, veins and muscles rippling whenever he saves a shot. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t having to press my thighs together during every match, praying I wouldn’t leave a wet spot on my seat.

The phone rings again, and I let out an annoyed huff when I see it’s the unknown number for the third time. I snatch the phone from the counter, pressing the green button and holding it to my ear. ‘Hello?’ I say, silence on the other side for a few long moments before I hear a low ‘hello’ in response. The voice is male and unfamiliar, sounding distorted. The line must not be great.

There’s another few seconds of silence after he speaks, and I roll my eyes. ‘Yeah?’ I ask, trying to keep my tone patient. ‘Who is this?’ he asks, and I frown. Does he not realise he’s calling me? ‘Who are you trying to reach?’ I ask, a low chuckle sounding in response. ‘What number is this?’ he asks, sounding amused, and I shake my head. Idiot. ‘What number are you trying to reach?’ I ask in response, getting another low chuckle in response, the sound making my pulse jump.

‘I… don’t know,’ he responds, and I can’t help but roll my eyes again. ‘I think you have the wrong number.’ ‘Have I?’ ‘It happens. Don’t worry about it,’ I say before hanging up, putting my phone back down on the countertop. I pick up my wineglass and head over to the sliding glass door that leads out onto the patio, my reflection clear in it. I really hope Kepa appreciates the effort I’ve made for him – this dress is sexy and not comfortable at all, meaning I look insanely good in it.

My phone starts ringing again, and I sigh deeply before picking up the phone, answering the unknown number despite my common sense telling me not to. ‘Hello?’ ‘I’m sorry. I think I called the wrong number,’ the man says, and I take a moment to compose myself. ‘So why did you call it again?’ I ask slowly. ‘To apologise,’ he responds, the smirk clear in his voice. ‘You’re forgiven. Bye now,’ I say chirpily, about to hang up before I hear, ‘wait, wait. Don’t hang up.’

‘Why?’ I ask, leaning against the countertop and running my finger around the rim of my glass. This guy’s probably just some perv trying to get off, but at least this is some entertainment until Kepa gets home. ‘I want to talk to you for a bit.’ ‘There’s trillions of numbers for that, creep,’ I respond with a small smile before I take a sip of my wine.

‘Yeah, but I called yours,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. This guy can’t have intentionally called me, can he? ‘I thought you said this was the wrong number?’ ‘I lied. Why don’t you want to talk to me?’ he asks, switching the topic before I can dwell on it too long. ‘I don’t know who you are.’ ‘You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine,’ he says, and I let out a laugh despite myself. This guy’s deluded.

‘I don’t think so,’ I say, flicking the rim of my wineglass with a manicured nail. ‘What was that?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes again. This guy needs to learn boundaries. ‘My wineglass.’ ‘You’re drinking wine?’ ‘Mmhmm. It’s date night,’ I say happily, getting excited again at the thought that Kepa will be home soon. ‘Date night?’ ‘Yep. My boyfriend doesn’t know it, but I’m surprising him with dinner tonight.’

‘Just dinner?’ he asks, and I let out an irritated noise. ‘What do you mean, ‘just dinner’? I’ve spent ages making this.’ ‘No, I don’t mean it like that. Dinner’s great. It’s just… isn’t it usually dinner and a movie?’ he asks, and I smile to myself. I’m hoping we won’t have time for a movie tonight – I want to be preoccupied with other things. ‘Yeah, but I think we might skip the movie.’ ‘You can’t skip the movie! That’s the best part of date night. Especially if it’s a scary movie,’ he says, his soft voice taking on a sudden edge that makes my hair on my arms stand up in worry.

‘What? Don’t you like scary movies?’ he asks, no edge to his voice. I must have imagined it. I tell myself to relax, taking a deep breath. ‘I don’t mind them.’ ‘What’s your favourite?’ he asks, and I think for a moment. ‘I like Scream. Ghostface is a good villain. What about you? What’s your favourite?’ I ask, met with a brief silence before he murmurs, ‘guess.’

‘Um… Nightmare on Elm Street?’ ‘Is that the one where the guy has knives for fingers?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes for the twentieth time this conversation. How can he start a conversation about scary movies if he doesn’t even know Nightmare on Elm Street? ‘Yeah, Freddy Krueger.’ ‘Freddy, that’s right. I liked that movie. It was scary.’ ‘The first one was, but the rest were bad,’ I say, taking a sip of my wine before my eyes flit up to the clock on the wall. Kepa should definitely be back from training now.

‘So… you mentioned your boyfriend,’ he says, and I can’t help but laugh. ‘Yeah.’ ‘Where is he?’ he asks, and I frown. Even he’s wondering where the hell Kepa is. ‘Why do you care, stranger?’ ‘That’s not my name,’ he says amusedly. ‘You didn’t tell me your name.’ ‘You didn’t tell me yours either. What is it?’ he asks, and I take another sip of my wine before I respond, ‘why do you want to know my name?’ ‘Because I want to know who I’m looking at,’ he responds, voice deadly soft, but the words have the effect of if he’d shouted them.

My blood goes cold, my eyes flitting to the back door. It’s pitch black outside, too dark to see if there’s anyone lurking. ‘What did you just say?’ I whisper, legs feeling weak as fear stabs through my body, my pulse skyrocketing. ‘I want to know who I’m talking to,’ he says slowly, as though he’s speaking to somebody stupid, and I shake my head, knowing what I heard.

‘That’s not what you said,’ I say shakily, rushing over to the door to make sure it’s locked, the handle not budging an inch. I feel a bit of relief flood through me – as long as the security system is working, no one can make it into this house unless their fingerprint is on the database. Perks of having a rich boyfriend. ‘What do you think I said?’ he asks, tone playful, but a sick feeling has already settled low in my stomach. This isn’t fun and entertaining anymore – I just want Kepa to get home.

‘I have to go,’ I say suddenly, and he chuckles lowly. ‘Your boyfriend isn’t home yet. Don’t you want the company?’ he asks, sounding mocking like he knows how scared I am right now. ‘No.’ ‘Are you sure? You don’t like being alone, princesa,’ he says, that one word making all the tension flood out of my body.

I’ve been waiting for Kepa to get home, but he’s the idiot on the other side of the phone.

‘Oh, thank God. Kepa, this isn’t funny,’ I whine. ‘I’m not your boyfriend, y/n. Don’t thank God yet,’ he teases, my relief tainted by a little bit of uneasiness. What if it really isn’t Kepa? But it has to be. He obviously has a voice distorter on, which is hiding the usual Spanish lilt to his voice, and princesa is his pet name of choice for me.

‘Cut it out, Kep. You’re scaring me,’ I say quietly, and he laughs gently. ‘There’s nothing to be scared of, baby. If you keep on being a good girl for me, I won’t hurt you,’ he murmurs softly, and I let out a little breath. It’s definitely him – no psycho murderer would be reassuring me. ‘Fine. I’ll be a good girl for you. Just come home,’ I say, the fear in my stomach subsiding, replaced by the desire that’s been sitting there for weeks.

‘I’m on my way. But I want you to be ready for me, princesa.’ ‘I am ready for you. I’m wearing… my boyfriend’s favourite dress,’ I say lowly, trying my best to sound all seductive, and I’m rewarded when I hear him take a breath to compose himself. ‘I can see that. You’ve put his favourite perfume on too, and you’re drinking the wine that gets you all worked up and desperate. I’ve been watching your every move,’ he whispers, the words making me a shiver run down my spine. My eyes flit up to security camera in the corner of the room, identical to the ones in the corner of every room in the house. Both of us can watch from them live on our phones.

‘You might want to answer that,’ he says suddenly, words followed by the doorbell echoing through the house, making me jump. I keep the phone to my ear as I head out of the kitchen and into the foyer, shivering from my bare feet on the cold marble floor as I walk to the front door. I open it without any hesitation, the empty porch making me falter. I thought he’d be stood there, but there’s nothing there except for my car parked on the driveway, his nowhere to be seen.

‘Who’s there?’ I call out in a sing-song voice despite the uncertainty still swirling around inside me. What if this is an A-grade stalker, who’s pretending to be Kepa to lull me into a false sense of security? And I’m the moron throwing the door open and shouting out to him. ‘You should never say ‘who’s there?’. Don’t you watch scary movies? It’s a death wish, babe,’ he says suddenly, reminding me that he’s still on the other side of the phone, and I quickly shut the door, making sure it locks afterwards.

‘Okay, enough’s enough. You’ve had your fun. Just stop now,’ I say quietly, chewing on my lip nervously as I head back to the kitchen. ‘Or what?’ ‘Or… my boyfriend’s gonna be home soon,’ I say with a small smile, his little laugh reassuring me. It has to be Kepa I’m talking to. ‘Oh, really?’ ‘Yeah, and he’s gonna be pissed when I tell him what you’re doing.’ ‘Will he?’ ‘Yeah. He’s 6 foot 1, and super big, and he plays football, so he’s athletic, and he’ll beat the shit out of you,’ I reply, my words met with more rich laughter.

‘I’m sure he will, baby. Or maybe I’ll gut him like a fish,’ he says sinisterly, striking fear into me again. Calm down, y/n. It’s just Kepa. It couldn’t possibly be anyone else. ‘What do you want?’ I ask, putting on the helpless damsel-in-distress voice, and he chuckles softly. ‘I want to see what your insides look like,’ he murmurs in a velvet voice, the words laced with a dirty innuendo that makes my underwear dampen considerably.

‘But first… let’s play a game. If you answer my questions correctly, I won’t lay a finger on you. If you get any of them wrong, I get to do whatever I want to do to you,’ he bargains, sparking my competitive streak. If winning means I don’t get his touch tonight, fine by me. I’m too competitive to lose. ‘Okay. Go ahead,’ I prompt.

‘Here’s your first question. Who’s the killer in Halloween?’ ‘Hmmm, I’m not sure I remember,’ I tease, and he laughs lightly. ‘Come on, princesa. You know this one. White mask, stalks babysitters?’ ‘Oh, right... it’s Michael Myers!’ I exclaim, as though the name only just came to me. ‘Good girl. You’re doing well. Ready for your next one?’ ‘Mmhmm.’

‘Who’s the killer in Friday the 13th?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes. He really thinks he can trick me with this? ‘Mrs Vorhees, Jason’s mother, followed by Jason himself in the sequel,’ I say happily, and he lets out a little sigh, disappointed I got it right. ‘You’re too good at this.’ ‘You know it, baby. Come on, give me another one,’ I say tauntingly, and it’s like I can feel the atmosphere shift over the phone.

‘Okay. Which door am I at?’ he asks, voice deadly soft again, and I freeze, uneasiness filling me. ‘Kepa…’ ‘I told you already, princesa. I’m not your boyfriend. Now answer my question if you want to win,’ he prompts, and I take a deep breath. He’s using my pet name to reassure me that it’s him without ruining the act. I’m not in any danger.

‘Um… the front door,’ I answer, waiting with bated breath for a response. But I’m met with a long silence, the tension multiplying with every second that goes by. And then finally he whispers his reply, the one word sending a shiver through me. ‘Wrong.’

I hear the door behind me slide open and I whirl around, ready to greet my boyfriend with open arms, a big smile on my face. But the smile on my face slips when I’m met with the sight of a figure stood in the doorway, dressed in a floor-length black robe, face covered by a white Ghostface mask. The figure’s hands are covered with black gloves, and in one of them, he’s holding a knife. A very sharp, very shiny, very real knife.

My mouth drops open in a bloodcurdling scream, and I run for the foyer staircase without a moment’s hesitation, the sound of my feet hitting the marble echoing loudly as I sprint up the stairs. When I hear his thundering footsteps, my heart misses a beat, fear filling my veins, and I can’t help but scream again when I turn to see him following me up the stairs.

I look ahead, knowing I’ll fall if I’m not careful, and I head straight towards mine and Kepa’s bedroom. Once it’s locked, only he and I can get in with our thumbprints, so it’ll prove if it’s him or not. As soon as I’m in the room, I shut the door and lock it with shaky hands, the silence that follows making me feel even more on edge. He’s probably stood right outside, just biding his time.

I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves, and it’s only when my ringtone sounds out into the silence do I remember that my phone’s in my hand, the sound making me jump again. I answer without any hesitation, met with low chuckles on the other side. ‘You’d make a good final girl, princesa. That was a real scary-movie scream,’ he teases, and I let out a low sob, tears in my eyes.

‘I’m scared, Kep. Why are you doing this?’ I ask, sitting on the edge of our bed before my legs give way. ‘I’m upset with you, babe. While your boyfriend’s been working so hard, earning money for you to spend on whatever you want, you’ve been crushing on his teammate,’ he murmurs, confusion filling me. What is he talking about?

‘Don’t act like you don’t know, y/n. I’ve seen how you look at him. How your eyes are glued to him on the pitch while your boyfriend’s in the dugout. You stare at his thighs, his hands running through his hair, his neck when he shouts and his lips when he spits. You want him, don’t you, princesa?’ he asks, and despite the fear still making my heart race, I feel guilty that I know exactly who he’s referring to.

It’s been a tough couple months for me. We’ve only had sex once in all that time, and he barely participated because he was tired (I’ve never been the one to do all the work so I didn’t enjoy it much). I’ve been frustrated. And when Kepa was still on the bench every match, my thirsty mind had to find someone to ogle for the 90 minutes. And that someone ended up being Mason Mount.

He’s an annoying cocky little shit, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him, especially when he’s playing football. His corner kicks, his hair flicks, his spitting, his angry outbursts, his goals, his injuries. All of it is just so… hot. Kepa’s right – I’ve been trying to hide it, but I have a real crush on his teammate.

‘Kepa, I’m-’ ‘Don’t start trying to apologise now that you’ve been caught out, princesa. It’s too late for that now. And anyway, I feel for you a little bit. It must have been hard for you, with your boyfriend giving you no attention. I bet you’ve been trying your best to get yourself off. Do your fingers feel as good as his, baby?’ he asks, my underwear flooded with arousal now. He’s killing me – half of my mind is in panic mode, and the other half is thinking about dick. I don’t know which part I’m more annoyed with.

‘Show me, baby. Take off that pretty dress, lie down on the bed, and show me how you’ve been touching yourself, thinking of your boyfriend and his best friend,’ he taunts, my stomach clenching with nerves. One thing Kepa never does is call my pet names in English, yet the person on the other side of the phone has been calling me ‘baby’ and ‘babe instead of the usual ‘cariño’ or ‘querido’.

Before it can properly dawn on me, there’s a loud banging on the door, a startled scream escaping my lips. ‘I’m getting impatient, babe. Take off your dress before I come in and cut it off you with my knife,’ he threatens through gritted teeth, and I quickly get up off the bed. I put the phone on speaker, leaving it sat atop the sheets before I reach back to the zip on my dress.

My hands shake as I pull down the zip, my skin exposed to the room when I let the dress drop off me, leaving me stood in just my black lacy lingerie, suspenders and all. ‘Wow. Look at you, baby. So pretty. Did you dress up all for me? Or for your footballer boyfriend?’ he taunts, the cold air on my bare skin making me shiver.

‘Now lie down on the bed,’ he says in a gentle tone, and I do as he says, settling myself amongst the sheets, back against the headboard. ‘Spread your legs for me,’ he prompts, my actions following his words, exposing my clothed core to the room.

‘Slip your hand into your pants, princesa,’ he instructs softly, and I let my hand trail down my body before sliding beneath my underwear, a shaky breath falling from my lips when my fingertips brush against my clit. ‘So sensitive. I bet you’re so wet, so desperate for me to fuck you. Am I right, y/n? I’m right, aren’t I, baby? You’re so desperate for my cock, my fingers, my tongue. Anything I give you, you’ll be grateful for, huh?’ he asks, and I just nod, fingers ghosting across my folds, light tingles of pleasure running through me.

‘Are you gonna let me come in and fuck you, babe? I’m so hard for you, baby, so fucking hard. I wanna make you scream with my cock. Will you let me come in, y/n?’ he asks, and I shake my head, no. Despite my mind clouding over with a hazy fog, I’m still scared of the Ghostface on the other side of the door.

‘Well, if you remember correctly, baby, you got one of the questions wrong, which means I get to do whatever I want to you. Maybe I’ll use my knife to make you scream instead of my cock. Is that what you want, princesa?’ he asks, and the fear takes over, making me remove my hand from my pants and grab the phone shakily. ‘No, please. I’m scared,’ I whisper, and he lets out a low chuckle that makes my stomach turn.

‘You should be.’

The door swings open, Ghostface stood in the doorway, the only light in the room streaming in around his big frame from the hallway. His knife is still in one hand, head tilted mockingly, and the mask’s mouth is open in its perpetual scream, as though it’s warning me what I’m about to be doing too. ‘You look so sexy when you’re scared, baby. Your eyes are all big and teary, your teeth biting your lip, your chest heaving with deep breaths. I bet you look like that when you’re getting fucked as well, huh?’ the voice on the other end of the phone asks, cold realisation hitting me.

Ghostface only has a knife in his hand, the other one empty. No phone in sight.

‘Oh, princesa, you’re so cute. For someone who likes scary movies, you clearly don’t pay much attention to them. It was never just Billy Loomis. Stu Macher was with him all along. It was how they managed to do all their killing,’ the voice on the phone says mockingly, and then I hear the handle on the bathroom door turning slowly.

My breathing falters as I wait for the door to open, my heart stopping when another Ghostface is revealed, both of them standing in opposite doorways, staring at me. The new one has a phone and a voice distorter in his gloved hands, held up to his mouth. ‘Two’s better than one, baby,’ he says cockily, voice echoing through my phone.

I cover my mouth, a sob escaping my lips, and my eyes fill with tears that begin to spill over. I’m terrified despite how I’m pretty sure I know who both of these Ghostfaces are, my eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them. The first one walks across the room to me and I shrink away from him in fear, letting out a sob when his hand tightens around my throat and he pulls me closer to him. He lifts the knife to my face, gliding the tip across my skin, the cold metal making me shiver. The proximity means I can hear him breathing through the mask, and a familiar scent fills my senses.

‘What’s the safeword, cariño?’ a muffled voice asks from the other side of the mask, and I breathe a sigh of relief at hearing the Spanish accent, my nerves easing at him using one of his Spanish pet names for me. ‘Arsenal,’ I respond (hearing me shout his rival team is a definite way to get him to stop whatever he’s doing), and he nods, releasing my neck and lifting his hand to my face, wiping away my tears.

‘I like you scared, princesa. Your screams are so pretty,’ he murmurs softly, hand caressing my face with the most gentle touch before he reaches over to flick the lamp on. ‘I bet they sound prettier when she’s being touched than when she’s being chased up the stairs,’ the other Ghostface says, reminding me of his presence, and I suddenly realise what this is leading up to, the thought almost making me moan aloud. I’ve been desperate for cock for weeks, and now I’m gonna get two.

‘Much prettier. Come and find out for yourself,’ Kepa says, Mason stepping across the room to stand beside his teammate. My heart jumps at the two of them stood there in front of me, the two masks looking down at me with mocking screams. ‘Hands and knees, querido. Culo in the air for us,’ Kepa prompts, and I move into position, facing away from them and giving them a full view of my ass, supporting my body weight on weak arms.

‘I didn’t know it was possible to have a wet patch on black fabric,’ Mason teases, a gloved finger hooking through my pants and pulling them aside, both of them letting out appreciative noises at the sight of my soaked core. ‘Such a pretty pussy. So wet, babe. Is this all for us, y/n?’ Mason asks, his compliment making a thrill run through me. I let out a hum in response, a hand suddenly snaking around my neck, pulling my head back in an uncomfortable position.

‘Words, baby,’ Mason murmurs. ‘Yes, it’s for both of you,’ I respond, voice strained, and my neck is released from the hand’s tight hold. ‘Good girl. Do you want us to touch you?’ ‘Yes. Please,’ I whimper, feeling a finger ghosting over my folds a moment later. I bite down on my lip, embarrassed at how close I am to moaning when they’ve barely touched me.

There’s no more movement so I push my ass back, needing more contact, and both of them laugh, humiliation filling me and making me even wetter. ‘Our little princess is so needy for us, huh? Does our pretty girl want more?’ Mason asks, his dirty talk turning me on so much. Kepa drops a pet name or compliment (or insult – degradation gets me going) here and there, but he’s never been one for a running commentary like this.

‘Please,’ I whisper. ‘What do you want, baby? Tell us what you want, and we’ll give it to you.’ ‘Anything. Just something, please,’ I beg, the aching in my core thrumming through my whole body. ‘Shall we touch you with our knives, princesa?’ Kepa asks, and I take it as an innuendo before I feel the sharp tip of cold metal tracing down my spine, a harsh shiver running through me. ‘I did tell you I wanted to see what your insides look like, babe,’ Mason reminds me, smirk audible in his voice.

Even though I know it’s a joke, it sparks fear in me again, which only makes me gush with more arousal. Fear and desire have always gone hand-in-hand for me, which is how I ended up with an intimidating Adonis for a boyfriend. He scares me just as much as he turns me on, and that’s always been the case for everything. Whenever we watch horror films together, we end up fucking afterwards, because he knows how needy I get when I’m scared out of my wits. Halloween’s his favourite time of year.

‘Please don’t kill me, Mr Ghostface. I wanna be in the sequel,’ I say breathily, quoting Tatum’s line in the film, both of them laughing in response. ‘Oh, baby, we’re not gonna kill you. We’ve gotta have some fun with you first,’ Mason murmurs in a low voice, my heart racing at the possibilities of where this is gonna go.

Before I can respond, a finger plunges into me, a moan escaping my lips as I clench around the digit, head falling forward against my chest. I feel a hand wrap around my hair before pulling harshly, keeping my head back, and the knife appears at my neck, the blade like ice against my burning hot skin. The finger inside me is joined by another, the friction from the gloves making me whimper, and I feel my stomach clench when the fingers begin thrusting in and out of me, trying to open me up.

I don’t even know whose fingers are inside of me, or whose hand is pulling on my hair, the ambiguity making everything even hotter, and I can’t help the moans and whimpers slipping through my lips every few seconds. ‘Fuck, you weren’t lying. She sounds so pretty. So pretty and good for us,’ Mason murmurs, the fingers inside me curling against my walls, the feeling taking my breath away.

A third finger pushes into me, the painful stretch making me whine in pain, and I feel a hand rubbing my ass soothingly. I pant as I try to adjust to the stretch, the fingers pumping in and out of me as soon as my breathing calms down, and the hand resting on my ass disappears before landing back down heavily, the slap reverberating around the room.

With the fingers thrusting into me, slaps landing harshly on my ass, my hair being pulled and knife to my throat, I’m losing my mind, all sense disappearing and melting down into nothing but overwhelming pleasure. When a thumb appears at my clit, pressing down roughly, I let out a loud moan, sounding pathetic even to my own ears, and my walls clamp down around the fingers, legs shaking.

‘I’m gonna…’ I trail off, already feeling the tell-tale signs of an orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening more with each circle being drawn at my clit. ‘You’re gonna what, babe? Are you gonna cum for us?’ Mason asks teasingly, the long fingers inside me curling against the soft spot that makes me cry out. ‘I think she’s gonna cum, bro,’ Mason says conversationally, Kepa chuckling. ‘Not without permission, she’s not,’ Kepa reminds me, and I begin pleading before he’s even finished talking.

‘Please let me cum. I need it so bad, please. I need to cum, please let me cum,’ I moan, not even thinking about what I’m saying before the words come out. ‘What do you think? Shall we let her?’ Kepa asks, as though he’s asking Mason whether he thinks it’s gonna rain, their indifference making me even more desperate for them. I’m a victim of the chase.

‘Hmm, I don’t know, bro. Has she earned it?’ ‘All she’s done is lie here and let us fuck her with our fingers like a dirty little slut,’ Kepa murmurs, sentence punctuated with a rough slap on my ass, his words prompting a moan to fall from my lips. ‘It’s like that? Baby likes being called a slut?’ Mason asks, sounding like he’s stumbled across a goldmine, and I can’t wait for the filth he’s gonna be saying to me tonight.

‘She loves it. Almost as much as she loves being a lazy little bitch in bed. I don’t think she deserves it.’ ‘Me neither,’ Mason agrees, their hands disappearing from me a moment later, my orgasm instantly fading away. I let out a whine at the loss of contact, even missing the feeling of the knife against my throat, and my whine is rewarded with another slap on my ass, the skin burning at this point.

‘Don’t be a brat, y/n. Thank us for what we gave you,’ Mason says, voice laced with malice, pushing me to see if I’ll do it. ‘Thank you for your fingers,’ I say pathetically, a light slap landing on my ass after I speak. ‘That’s better. You wanna be a good girl for us, don’t you, princesa?’ Kepa asks, and I nod, knowing I need to behave if I want to get off tonight.

‘Turn around, baby,’ Mason prompts, and I do as he says, tucking my legs beneath me as I turn to face them, my ass sore. I look up at the two of them, searching for their eyes behind the masks, nothing but empty darkness staring back at me, sending a shiver down my spine. Imagine if it’s not really them, and it’s two psychos imitating them, trying their best to sound like them. What if-

‘Are you still scared, querido?’ Kepa asks in the voice that always gets me going, his tone half-patronising and half-comforting, and I nod in response, looking up at them through my lashes. From this angle, I can’t even tell which of them is which, the two of them stood to close together to tell who each voice is coming from. The one on the left has the knife in his hand and he uses it to tilt my head up, my eyes on the ceiling.

‘Eyes on us, babe,’ Mason says, my gaze flitting down to the two identical masks again, sending a quiver of fear through me. ‘God, you look so hot when you’re scared. Just wanna fuck this pretty face,’ Mason says, a hand coming to tighten around my neck. ‘She’s all yours,’ Kepa says, one of the figures stepping back and taking a seat on the chaise lounge chair in the corner of the room, putting the knife down beside him.

The figure still in front of me – Mason – lets go of my neck and unbuttons his black robe just enough to let his hard cock spring free. He’s not as long as Kepa, but he’s still a mouth-watering size, thick enough that I know my jaw’s gonna ache after this. ‘Mouth open, baby,’ he prompts, and I part my lips enough for him to slide in.

But he only gives me two fingers, his other hand gripping his length and tugging on it a few times, the tip leaking with precum. It’s humiliating – I’m sat here in skimpy transparent lingerie with his fingers in my mouth, and he’s almost completely covered, jacking off right in front of my face. I feel my underwear flooding all over again.

Without any warning, he removes his fingers and pushes his cock into my mouth, letting out a low groan as he slides all the way in, tip hitting the back of my throat and prompting a loud gag. ‘Fuck,’ he moans, drawing the word out as he stills, my throat trying to reject the intrusion. I try to breathe through my nose, tears already collecting on my waterline, and when he finally pulls out, I gasp like I’ve been drowning.

‘Suck him off, princesa. Show him how good you are with your mouth,’ Kepa prompts from the corner of the room, drawing my attention back to him. The sight of him sprawled out on the seat, watching his girlfriend with another man is enough to make my stomach clench with arousal. The bedsheets are gonna be soaked if they go on like this.

I lean forward, looking up at Mason with big, innocent eyes as I press a kiss to his tip, a shaky breath audible through the mask, making me grin to myself. I place my tongue at the base, licking up to his tip against the vein on the underside of his cock before taking the head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him and sucking like he’s a lollipop, cheeks caved in. I look up at him as I take him further in, eyes meeting the hollow black ones on his mask, and another gag forces its way up my throat, a soft groan falling from his lips.

I set a gentle pace, slowly bobbing my head up and down, taking him in as far as possible, hand leisurely tugging at what I can’t reach. ‘Like that, y/n, just like that. Feels so fucking good, baby,’ he groans quietly, head thrown back, hand fisting into my hair as my eyes begin to water, and I hum around at him at the praise, the sensation making him moan softly, the sound going straight to my core.

It’s not long before his hips begin moving, his hand controlling my head movements, and I grab onto his legs as he thrusts slowly. ‘Gonna be a good girl for me, babe? Gonna let me fuck this pretty little mouth?’ he asks, and I hum in response, tears filling my eyes again. He doesn’t wait another moment before his thrusts speed up and I gag repeatedly around him. The sounds only spur him on, and tears run down my face as he looks down at me, watching me try to take him as far in as possible.

‘Fuck, you’re so good. Such a good little slut, letting me fuck your mouth, and taking it so well. Love hearing you gagging,’ he says in a strained voice, thrusting particularly hard to prompt a gag from me, the noise making him moan. ‘You’re so hot,’ he murmurs, the praise making me moan, the vibrations making his hips falter. Tears stream down my face, saliva bubbles around my mouth and drips down my chin and neck – I must look like such a mess right now.

And then I remember that Kepa’s sat in the corner, my gaze flicking over to him, stomach turning when I see that he’s jacking off whilst watching us. The sight makes me moan again, Mason letting out a choked groan, the noise only making me wetter. He pulls out of my mouth a moment later, breathing heavily, chest visibly heaving.

‘You weren’t lying,’ Mason says, Kepa chuckling as he gets to his feet. ‘I told you, hermano. She sucks your soul,’ he murmurs, standing in front of me and wiping my face clean again. ‘Lie down for us, princesa,’ Kepa instructs, and I do as he says with a weak and shaky body, tension flooding out of me as I relax into the sheets, lying horizontally across the bed with my feet dangling off the side.

‘Look at her. So pretty. What shall we do to you, babe?’ Mason asks, the knife in his hand. He rests the tip of it against my thigh before running it down my leg, the sharp point a cold sting against my skin. ‘Anything. Please,’ I whisper, body already so tired but desperate for both of them, for whatever they want to do to me.

‘Gonna let me eat your pretty little pussy, baby?’ he asks silkily, a moan falling from my lips at just the thought of it. ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he says amusedly, dropping to his knees at the side of the bed, disappearing from my view. I’m about to sit up so I can see him take off the mask but Kepa appears behind me, a hand on my shoulder to keep me lying down.

He taps my bottom lip, the message in the action clear, and I open my mouth for him. I watch him, my boyfriend upside-down in my vision as he opens his robe. I’m too distracted watching Kepa wrap his hand around his cock that I forget about Mason until he spreads my legs apart and pulls my pants aside.

He doesn’t waste any time, tongue licking a bold stripe across my core, prompting a breathy moan from me. ‘Mmm. You taste so good, babe. So sweet,’ Mason groans, lips against my inner thigh, pressing soft kisses to my skin. ‘Thank him for being kind to you, cariño,’ Kepa prompts, a mocking tinge to his voice, as Mason dips his tongue between my folds. ‘Thank you,’ I whimper, voice hitching when he presses his thumb to my clit, rubbing slow and hard circles that send shivers through me.

He keeps himself composed for barely ten seconds before he loses control, beginning to eat me out like he’s starving. Obscene wet sounds fill the room as he licks and sucks me, prompting desperate moaning from me. I reach down to thread my hands into his hair, the fluffy locks soft against my fingers, and when I tug on it, he lets out a gentle grunt against me, the vibrations making me squirm.

‘Ready, princesa?’ Kepa murmurs, reminding me of his presence, and I nod, opening my mouth wide for him again. He taps his cock against my tongue, the angle I’m lying at allowing him to push down into my throat and, despite my gagging, he slides all the way in until his balls tap against my nose. He pulls back out with a shaky breath, allowing me to inhale deeply before entering my mouth again.

He thrusts shallowly, not going too far into my mouth, and I’m grateful for it. With Mason eating me out like a man possessed, I’m already struggling to breathe, constantly moaning around Kepa’s cock which only gets him even more worked up. I try my best to engage my brain, sucking on his cock as best as I can whilst pulling Mason’s face even closer to my core. He flicks his tongue inside me, nose nuzzling against my clit in a way that makes me moan his name, but it comes out as gibberish with Kepa keeping my mouth full.

Kepa’s broken breaths and pleasured groans become more and more frequent, his gloved hands resting softly on my face as his hips move slowly back and forth. He’s doing everything in his power to hold back from fucking into my mouth as hard and fast as he wants to, that in itself making me even wetter, the squelching from between my legs getting even louder as Mason laps at me relentlessly.

‘Are you close, querido?’ Kepa asks, voice strained, but I’m too far gone to be able to respond, squirming on the bed with my thighs trying to close around Mason’s head, heels digging into his back. ‘I think she’s close. Shall I let her?’ Mason asks against my clit, my back arching up at the vibrations, a high-pitched whine escaping my mouth. ‘No,’ Kepa responds shortly, and I feel my eyes welling up at the thought of being edged again. The knot in my stomach is so tight, ready to snap, but I feel it loosening the moment Mason moves away from me.

Kepa pulls out of my mouth a moment later, a shiver running through me at feeling suddenly empty, and I can’t help but let out a sob. ‘Turn over,’ Kepa prompts, and I roll onto my front, the man kneeling down in front of me. ‘Don’t cry, cariño. You’ll get what you want,’ he says comfortingly, running a gloved hand down the side of my face soothingly. His hand comes to rest over my eyes and a moment later, his lips meet mine in a soft kiss that tastes like my boyfriend – any doubt in my mind about who he is disappears instantly.

Before I can even deepen the kiss, I feel Mason’s hands wrap around my ankles, pulling me across the bed towards him. He flicks open my bra before flipping me over, his hands instantly grabbing at my boobs, gloved fingers tugging at my nipples, my head falling back against the bed as I let out a helpless whimper.

‘Gonna let me fuck you, baby?’ he asks, and I nod desperately, legs spreading unconsciously for him. His hands slide down my body to my pants and he pulls them down my legs, leaving me in just suspenders and transparent stockings, the rest of me on show for him. ‘Such a beautiful body, so pretty for us,’ he compliments, rubbing softly at my clit, and I let out breathy moans in response, tingles of pleasure running through me.

‘Does our pretty baby wanna be fucked?’ he asks again, clearly wanting me to say it, and push down the humiliation to reply, ‘yes, please fuck me. I need it so bad.’ ‘Good girl,’ he says amusedly, deftly catching the condom Kepa throws to him. ‘No condom, please. I’m on birth control,’ I say, his movements freezing for a moment before he looks at Kepa.

‘Are you sure, cariño?’ Kepa asks, out of my view, and I nod. Kepa and I almost never use a condom, and it’ll drive me crazy feeling Mason raw inside me. ‘Fuck,’ Mason curses under his breath, pulling my legs up to rest on his shoulders, insides of my ankles brushing against the cold plastic of the mask. He runs his tip up and down my folds before plunging in without warning, both of us moaning as he bottoms out inside me.

He’s thick enough for the stretch to burn but he rubs my clit to soothe the pain, hips keeping himself still inside me. ‘Please, I need it. Please fuck me,’ I beg desperately, and he doesn’t waste any time, pulling all the way out before slamming back in, winding me. He starts off gentle, his thrusts deep but leisurely, and it feels like the head of his cock is prodding against my cervix each time he slides back in, making me whimper pathetically.

‘Fucking slut,’ he murmurs, thrusting into me particularly hard, and my mouth drops open in a silent moan at the insult, back lifting up from the bed with his tight grip on my waist. He gradually picks up the pace, and I moan helplessly as his cock drags against my walls. I can’t help but clench around him, and I can tell he’s holding himself back from going harder, his breaths coming out laboured. He must be close to suffocation in that mask.

It seems he wants me to feel the same, his hand coming to my neck and tightening, cutting off my airways so a pleasurable haze clouds over my mind. ‘Fuck, you’re so tight,’ he groans, body tense with the effort of keeping himself together, and I let out a choked moan, eyes full of overwhelmed tears. He reaches to slip two gloved fingers into my mouth, and I can taste my own arousal on the material, the filth of it making me gush around his cock.

‘Fuck, you feel so fucking good. So wet for me. So wet for a man that’s not your boyfriend, dirty little slut,’ he taunts me, my brain barely processing his words, too focused on the tip of his cock scraping against the spot inside me that makes my eyes roll back, intense waves of pleasure rolling over my body.

‘Such a tight little pussy. Guess your boyfriend hasn’t been fucking you properly,’ he murmurs cockily, shooting a look over his shoulder to where Kepa must be stood now. ‘Watch it,’ Kepa warns darkly, Mason laughing at managing to piss him off. I can barely focus on their interaction, the knot in my stomach tightening again. I can’t even form words, babbling unintelligibly around his fingers, and both of them chuckle at the state of me. His pace slows down again, the boy leisurely thrusting into me, and my eyes fill with tears with the desperation for my orgasm, my vision blurred and head numb with pleasure.

‘Are you gonna cum, princess?’ Mason asks, and I don’t even nod in response, not wanting to be edged again. ‘That’s a yes,’ Kepa murmurs, and Mason pulls out of me straight away, a frustrated sob breaking free from my mouth. Mason’s hand comes down onto my pussy in a light slap, making me let out a strangled yelp and I shoot him a reproachful look, hearing a chuckle from beneath the mask.

‘Don’t give him that face. You should be grateful, cariño.’ ‘Grateful for what? Being edged a trillion times?’ I ask bitterly, and I can feel the sternness radiating from Kepa’s mask. ‘Don’t be bratty,’ he says, unbuttoning his robe and removing his gloves before pulling his mask off. His skin is flushed, curls unruly and eyes bright, my heart pounding at the sight of him. I beam, reaching a hand out to him and pulling him close to press a kiss to his lips.

‘Sit on my face?’ he asks against my lips, my pussy drenched at the thought, and I nod, ‘please.’ He comes to lie on the bed, his legs hanging off the bottom of it, and he’s wearing nothing but his boxers, relief filling me that I can finally see his face. I can’t see it for long though, as he pulls me towards him, wrapping his arms around my thighs to bring me close to his head, my body blocking the bottom half of his face.

He doesn’t even give me a moment to prepare before he licks a bold stripe across my slit, making my whole body quiver above him. ‘Joder. Sabes tan dulce. Could eat you all day, princesa,’ he says against my core, the vibrations making me whimper.

He starts relatively slow, tongue circling my clit before lapping up my slick and poking between my folds gently but it’s not long before he loses his self-control, abusing my heat with his tongue, hands holding me in a bruisingly tight grip as I squirm, unable to hold my weight up. My pussy must be suffocating him.

‘Please, please,’ I moan repeatedly, and I can see the amusement in his eyes as he breathes against my folds, his tongue circling my clit again and again. ‘Please, what? Words, cariño,’ he says against my folds, making me jolt forwards, head almost hitting the wall. ‘More, Kepa, more. I need to cum,’ I force out between moans, face contorted in pleasure, and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

‘My dirty slut wants to cum?’ he asks, words dripping with amusement, and I nod, mouth open in a silent moan as the waves of pleasure roll over me. He practically begins to make out with my pussy, lips moving against my folds as his tongue pokes into me every few seconds. And then he decided to torture me further, mouth moving to suck at my clit as he pushes two fingers into me and curls them, prompting a loud moan from me.

‘Let me fuck you then,’ he says against my clit, fingers disappearing from inside me, and I shakily lift myself up from his face, leaning down to kiss him briefly again, a soft smile on his face as he kisses me back. How can this be the man that chased me up the stairs with a knife a little while ago?

I move down his body, hovering over his cock and watching as he pushes his boxers down just enough to guide himself into me. I sink down onto him, the familiarity making me sigh as I take him all the way in, his length filling me up almost painfully. It’s like I can feel him in my stomach. I take a few seconds to adjust, suddenly remembering Mason, and I turn to see him sat on the chair in the corner, mask, gloves and robe gone, hand down his boxers and grin on his face.

I motion for him to come over and he stands beside the bed, turning my hand with a strong hand on my chin and pulling my face to his. Our lips meet in a messy kiss, teeth and tongues clashing, and I feel the thrill of kissing someone who isn’t my boyfriend, someone I’ve been secretly crushing on for a while. He bites down on my lip, making me moan into his mouth before he laves his tongue soothingly over where he just bit, my pussy gushing around Kepa.

I break away, remembering my boyfriend whose cock I’m sat on, but he’s watching us with an amused look on his face, leaning on his elbows for a good view. ‘I think I like seeing you with other guys,’ he admits with a grin, Mason laughing, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘Are you a dirty voyeur, papí?’ I tease, his gaze hardening and eyes narrowing, scaring me just as much as when he had the mask on, making me wetter again. ‘I’m gonna fuck you hard for that,’ he says darkly, arousal pooling in my stomach.

His hands tighten on my hips and he lifts me before pushing me back down onto his cock, thrusting up at the same time, making me moan with my head thrown back, almost falling off the bed but bumping into Mason instead. He presses kisses along my neck, biting colours into my skin as Kepa lifts me up and down on him, fucking up into me in a way that makes me whimper his name desperately.

He sits up after a few moments, my body sandwiched between theirs, and I grind down onto him, my clit rubbing against his skin, head going light at the pleasure. He dips his head to suck at my nipples, nipping at the flesh of my breasts as I try my best to ride, relying on him lifting me up and down. ‘Good girl, bouncing on my cock,’ Kepa murmurs as Mason’s hand slides around me to rub at my clit, my head falling back against his strong chest.

Kepa’s tip scrapes against the spot inside me that makes my back arch, and his lips stray up to my shoulder. The feeling of both he and Mason’s kissing and biting at my skin, Mason’s fingers at my clit and Kepa’s cock buried inside me, it’s all too much. I’m so close to my orgasm that I can almost feel the white-hot pleasure washing over me already.

‘Can we try something, cariño?’ Kepa asks with his lips at my jaw, his hands stilling my hips, and when I feel Mason’s hand on my lower back, a nervous shiver runs through me. I’ve only let Kepa in the back a couple times and it was… an experience, to say the least. ‘We don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ Mason says softly, mouth moving against my skin, but I shake my head. ‘No, it’s okay. We can try,’ I say quietly, Mason turning my head to kiss me again, the feeling so foreign and thrilling.

‘You’re so fucking cute. Such a good girl,’ he murmurs against my lips before breaking away. I watch as he spits, the parallel between this and watching him spit on the pitch almost making me laugh, and I feel his saliva land at my back entrance. He pushes his boxers down just enough to free his cock and he uses the head to spread his spit around, lubing me up.

‘Safeword if it hurts,’ Kepa reminds me and I nod, letting him capture my lips with his own as Mason gently pushes into me. He takes it slowly, the stretch of each inch burning more and more, but his and Kepa’s lips kiss the pain away. My breathing is laboured, head dizzy, and when Mason bottoms out, they both shower me in praise that makes me wet, my clenching around them making them both groan in pleasure.

‘Can I move?’ I breathe out after a while, feeling adjusted to them inside me, and they both tell me I can. I use my hands on Kepa’s shoulders and my knees resting on the bed to lift myself slightly before letting myself fall back down, all three of us moaning at the feeling. Mason’s mouth comes to my shoulder and bites gently, my head falling back against him as Kepa watches me intently to make sure I’m not in pain, his hands resting on my waist.

He quickly takes over, lifting me up and down with a gradually increasing pace, both of their cocks scraping against my walls, making me lose my mind. The sounds of wet squelches, moans, grunts, groans and skin slapping against skin fill the room, Kepa’s hands gripping my waist tightly, Mason’s hands sliding around my body to play with my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers.

‘Faster, please,’ I moan, Kepa obliging, the three of us letting out more moans at the faster pace, my nails digging into Kepa’s back. Mason’s fingers stray down to my clit again, just as Kepa’s tip scrapes against my soft spot. Without an inch of warning, my orgasm washes over me, mouth open with a high-pitched moan, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back against Mason.

Hot pleasure burns through my veins, my head spinning and body convulsing, the two of them working me through my high with their hands, mouths and cocks, the sensations only prolonging the bliss. My legs shake as I come down, walls clenching to reject them, my body curling in on itself to try and give myself reprieve, but no such luck – the two of them are still rock-hard inside me, and I know they won’t be done with me until they’ve filled me up with their cum.

‘You’re gonna regret cumming so fast, baby,’ Mason murmurs lowly against my neck, an evil grin on Kepa’s face, and I let out a tired sob, tears in my eyes. ‘I can’t handle any more,’ I whimper, Kepa raising an eyebrow as he starts fucking up into me, Mason matching his pace, my body twitching with overstimulation, pained whines escaping my lips every few seconds.

‘Yes, you can, cariño. You’re a big girl. You’ll take whatever we give you, and you’ll thank us for it too,’ Kepa says in a soothing tone, kissing along my jaw, and I slide my fingers into his hair, head resting against Mason’s shoulder, heat radiating from both of their bodies. We’re all so hot, skin covered in sweat and desire, and I can’t help the tears running down my face as they continue fucking into me for their own orgasms, my body so overwhelmed.

I let out desperate moans of their names, both of them groaning in response, and I know they’re close. I am too, the sensitivity of overstimulation ebbing away into the build-up of another orgasm. ‘Rub yourself, baby,’ Mason prompts, hands playing with my tits again, and I shake my head. ‘I can’t… it’s too much,’ I whimper, Kepa’s gaze on me hardening as his hand tightens at my neck.

‘You can, and you will. He won’t ask you again, princesa,’ he says, tone laced with sternness, and I let go of one of his shoulders to reach down and rub at my clit again, sparks of pleasure lighting inside me, more tears running down my face. He kisses them away before his lips find mine, the saltiness of my tears finding my tastebuds as well as the faint taste of my own pussy, a whiny moan sounding from low in my throat.

I can feel their paces becoming sloppy, their thrusts erratic and their hands frantic on me, like it feels so good that they don’t know what to do with themselves anymore. ‘Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Such a good girl. I’m not gonna last,’ Mason says between deep breaths, voice strained. ‘Joder. Me neither,’ Kepa says unevenly, slapping my hand away to rub at my clit himself, his faster and harsher pace making me scream, body thrashing at the overpowering pleasure.

‘Fuck, I’m gonna…’ I trail off, mind too numb to think straight. ‘Go on, querido. Cum for our cocks.’ ‘Does our little slut feel good? Are you gonna cum for us, baby?’ Their dirty talk almost finishes me off, but it’s an in-sync thrust from both of them that pushes me over the edge, mouth open in a silent scream as my high hits me, body tensed and shaking. Mason’s orgasm follows close after, the boy burying his head in my neck as he cums with a low moan of my name, and Kepa’s is last, my boyfriend holding me down on his cock as he cums deep inside me with his head thrown back.

We stay like this for a few moments, breathing heavily as their cocks soften inside me. I shudder when Mason pulls out, feeling cold and empty when Kepa lifts me off him to lay me down on the bed, tension flooding out of my body and replaced with relief.

I spot one of the masks on the pillow and I reach for it, holding it and looking at it, paying no attention to the two of them as they move around, talking lowly. I stare into the dark eyes of the mask, a low thrill settling in my stomach at the sight of it. I always found Ghostface hot, but now? He’s number one on my crush list and I think it’ll take a lot to replace him.

‘¿Estas bien, mi amor?’ Kepa asks softly, and I put the mask down, looking at him with a tired smile on my face. His hair’s all fluffy and he’s put on some pyjama bottoms, the sexy checked ones I love on him. His top half is bare, though – I already know I’ll be tracing my fingers over his muscles before I fall asleep tonight.

‘I’m okay,’ I reply in a hoarse voice, my boyfriend coming to sit on the bed beside me, a wet towel in his hand. He cleans me up with a gentle touch, running the towel up and down my body to soak up all the sweat. Mason comes out of the bathroom a moment later, also wearing a pair of sexy checked pyjamas bottoms with no top, his hair just as fluffy. He comes over to the bed with a handsome grin, pushing my legs apart.

I feel shy as both he and Kepa look between my legs, both groaning at the sight. I can feel their cum dripping out of both holes, the sensation only making me wet again. ‘Fuck, that’s so hot,’ Mason says, scooping up their cum and pushing it back into me with two fingers, making me hum in pleasure, walls clenching around him.

They both get me ready for bed, Kepa cleaning my makeup off with a wipe as Mason takes off the remainder of my lingerie before handing me my Ghostface pyjamas, making me laugh at the irony of it. ‘Are you hungry, mamí?’ Kepa asks, suddenly reminding me of my cooking. ‘I put a pasta bake in the oven. It’s probably burnt to a crisp now,’ I say miserably, both of them laughing. ‘I turned the oven off before I chased you up the stairs,’ Kepa says, his responsible behaviour making me smile amusedly.

‘It still won’t be good to eat now though.’ ‘We’ll order pizza. Still Italian,’ Kepa says, and I roll my eyes but nod anyway – I love takeaway pizza. Kepa taps away at his phone as I settle into the sheets, already feeling myself drifting off to sleep. ‘What toppings do you want, Mase?’ Kepa asks, Mason looking surprised. ‘I was gonna go.’ ‘No, stay the night, please. I want morning sex,’ I say tiredly, the two of them laughing again.

‘How can I refuse you, babe? I’ll have whatever, I’m not fussy,’ Mason says, directing the last part to Kepa who finishes the order as Mason climbs into the bed beside me. ’30 minutes,’ Kepa says, and I let my eyes flutter shut. ‘I’m gonna have a little nap,’ I yawn, Kepa chuckling softly as he runs a hand over my hair, sending tingles through me. I snuggle down into the sheets, resting my head in Kepa’s lap and throwing my legs over Mason’s, my boyfriend playing with my hair as Mason massages my feet. This must be heaven.

‘Sorry for scaring you, babe.’ ‘Don’t be. I loved it. You’re great actors,’ I mumble, getting chuckles in response. ‘Liar. You knew it was us.’ ‘I doubted it a few times though. I really thought you were Kepa on the phone. Your Spanish accent is great,’ I say, Mason looking proud of himself. ‘I’ve got a good teacher,’ he says, the two of them bumping their fists together with big grins at each other, and I roll my eyes at their weird little bromance. Though, I suppose, if it weren’t for their bromance, I wouldn’t be nearly knocked out after the fucking of a lifetime.

‘I do have to say, though. You two have nothing on Billy and Stu,’ I say tiredly, the two of them scoffing. ‘Billy and Stu wish they were us,’ Mason says confidently, and I raise a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Okay. Which one of you is which then?’ I ask, both of them answering, ‘I’m Billy.’ I laugh as they bicker over who’s who, both of them making compelling arguments, but by the time they ask for my opinion, I’m almost fast asleep, a contented smile on my face.

#kepa arrizabalaga #mason mount #chelsea fc #kepa arrizabalaga smut #mason mount smut

460 notes · View notes

football-and-fanfics · 2 years

Text

For a short while: taking smut requests😁

Since I want to get a little more into smut writing, I have decided to start taking smut requests for a short period of time. This will probably be for just a few weeks, or when you flood my inbox maybe a little shorter 😄

When requesting smut from me please note the following:

I don't write smut for anyone under the age of 21.

I do not write smut for all players I write for. If you select a player from the Request-form and they have 'no smut' behind their name-- well, you get the gist 🤪

I don't write the too kinky stuff, so please keep that in mind when requesting.

The 'no babies/kids and no pregnancies' rule still stands. (Also goes for trying for a baby😉).

And finally: if I feel I cannot do your request justice with my writing or when I don't feel comfortable writing it, I won't write it.

Other than that, get requesting (link below)😇😁

REQUEST A SMUT IMAGINE

20 notes · View notes

thousandfourhundreddays · 2 years

Text

I’m thirsting for kepa again but there’s literally no content atm :(

#kepa arrizabalaga imagine #kepa arrizabalaga #kepa arrizabalaga smut

19 notes · View notes

julianalvarez9 · 1 year

Text

rising tensions / kepa arrizabalaga

author's note: this man, am i right? this was sitting in my drafts for a bit but I finally got to finish it ksjskdj hope you like it! i don't really know what's going on but well 🥴

warnings: smut with a bit of plot. sprinkles of size kink, praise kink, fingering, hate sex?? wc: 1952

everyone around thought your relationship with kepa was funny.

whether it was because of your notorious height difference, the incessant amount of bickering, or the fact that you were silently learning spanish only to be able to roast him in his mother tongue too, some found your inability to be in the same space without trying to murder each other with words or actions unbelievably funny. others, though, were utterly annoyed, prompting a bet to take place behind closed doors: who would break first?

everyone around cobham was marveled at your persistence to get under kepa's skin, which was difficult to do since he was perceived by everyone as a calm, quiet guy.

"no entiendo por qué no la soportas" (i don't know why you can't stand her) joao said, tilting his head to point sneakily in your direction. you were just getting out onto the pitch with christian, after helping him with some recovery sessions for his knee. the american was clearly laughing at something that you had said, and kepa clenched his jaw at seeing you smile so proudly for making his teammate laugh so much. he wondered why you couldn't be like that with him, always seemed to focus on making him lose his mind instead.

kepa frowned at the disrespectful comment that his teammate had dared to say. "no digas estupideces" (don't say stupid shit), he grumbled, while trying to ignore the way both joao and enzo looked at each other while hearing kepa seemingly getting protective over you. "después de todo, ¿por qué no le preguntan a ella qué problema tiene conmigo?" (after all, why don't you ask her what's her problem with me?).

"es insufrible" (she's insufferable) he rolled his eyes, while putting on the gloves, almost ready for his practice of the day. "quizá si ustedes dos sólo aliviaran la tensión" (maybe if you two just relieved the tension) enzo wondered, a devilish smile on his face that hinted exactly what he was thinking of. the goalkeeper would never admit it out loud, but he had given the idea some thought over the last couple of weeks. she was clearly pretty in his eyes, but he didn't think that was behind his clear dislike for chelsea's physiotherapist.

still, the thought that enzo had reignited seemed to not extinguish itself as quickly as it usually did. it bothered kepa to no end, and the only thing he wanted to do was get into your office and slam you against the nearest wall to curse you for not leaving his mind.

you begrudgingly let him, rolling your eyes when his big frame brushed slightly against your extended arm. “god, you've got no manners," kepa grumbles under his breath, and it only makes your browns furrow more. "not with tontos like you, no," you assure, while leaning onto the desk, not once averting your eyes from the goalkeeper that was standing across from you, looking attentively at you through squinted eyes. “why did you come into my office, arrizabalaga? quit playing, i don’t have all day”.

when practice had finally come to an end, he was convinced he had thought about 100 scenarios where things went sour: you, yelling at him, screaming profanities and cursing his name for everything he did. which wasn’t that far from what was considered normal conversation between the two of you. still, kepa found himself going straight to you. he realized that, even if he didn't knew where he had to go, his legs would drive him to your office door just the same.

his fists knocked on the metal even before he could make up a lie as to why he was at your door. "what are you doing here?" was the first thing that you asked, feet planted on the floor and no intention of letting him in into the room. "como si no supieras" (as if you didn't know) the goalkeeper grumbled, shooting his brows up as if looking for permission to come in. "will you be a good girl and let me in now?".

what you said seems to have gone over his head, cause he doesnt allude to it when he opens his mouth again. "little girl speaks spanish now. ¿querías impresionarme?" (did you want to impress me?) he cockily says, and you’re sure your eyes are gonna get stuck at the back of your head due to how frequently you’re rolling them. "just looking for new ways of telling you que te vayas a la mierda" (to go to hell) you smile widely, too exaggerated to actually be real, although you don’t really care to hide that it’s fake.

"you've got a dirty little mouth, don't you?".

it’s not the first time you realize that the once innocent banter shared between the two of you was quickly mutating into these sinful sentences, but it’s the first time that he did so while you two were alone. normally, you could escape -both the feelings that his words erupted and him- just going to somewhere else: but kepa’s got you cornered into your office now, and you can see in the glint of his dark, brown eyes, how much he’s enjoying watching you squirm under his heated gaze. he smirks like he's conscious about the fire that every word lights inside of you: it's crystal clear that you feel the rising tension too, and he sees the green light to continue his teasing.

“¿qué ha pasado, niña bonita? ¿te han comido la lengua los ratones?” (what happened, pretty girl? cat’s got your tongue?). you gulp, closing your eyes to try and avoid his presence for a second, but when you open them back up, you can see his face impossibly closer. his wide frame is towering over your smaller one now, and with your body already hardly pressed against the desk, you got nowhere to go. “dime que no lo sientes. dímelo, y paro” (tell me that you don’t feel it too. tell me, and i’ll stop) he mutters, warm breath fanning your face. and although you don’t quite understand what he’s saying, it’s the last tip you need to trip over the edge, losing the smallest thread of critical thinking you had left in your body.

you ragged breath told him all he needed to know: that you needed him the same way he needed you. his lips ghost over your neck, and you whimper at the smallest contact between your skin and his mouth, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. he wants to savor this, to remember how everything was; the before. he’s enchanted by your scent already, and he’s sure that everything will be erased for him after he gets to taste even the littlest piece of skin: and to no surprise, he’s right.

you roll your eyes, annoyed that he stays being insufferable even during this moment. “sí, kepa. por favor,” (yes, kepa. please), you plead in his mother tongue, and that’s all he needs. his mouth finds yours in a hasty kiss, lips hard against yours as you continue to drag him down by his neck. the next time you need to part for air, kepa grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you effortlessly to place you onto your desk.

kepa starts leaving wet kisses on your neck, and you tilt your head backward to give him more space to work on, while you get your hands onto his hair to draw him impossibly closer. there’s no part of you that’s left untouched by his clothed frame when he separates to ask “do you want this? is this okay?” inches away from your lips, but this time in a language you can actually understand. you nod frantically but he doesn’t go back to kissing you. “i need words, princesa”.

your hips buck into his hands when he grazes your clit, and he smirks against your cheek, before lowering his head to nibble onto your ear. "por favor," you moan again, looking through doe eyes full of pleasure while you beg him to do something, anything. kepa inserts one finger first, slowly going in and out of your warm entrance, and he feels your walls tightening against him. he kisses you again, harder this time, when he inserts another one, curling with more pressure and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“will you be my good girl and stay quiet?” he asks against your ear, his body separating your legs to keep them open. his right hand wanders on your left thigh, until his finger’s hover where you need him most. once he moved your underwear to the side, his digits become drenched with your arousal and you moan softly at the newfound pleasure. kepa’s looking intently at your face now, analyzing your features to understand what you like most while his long fingers dance through your folds.

a sudden knock against your door breaks the moment, and you panic slightly at the possibility of being found in a compromising situation.

knuckles deep inside of you, kepa urges you to look at him. "focus for me, yeah?" he says, and you avert your gaze from the door to his brown eyes, again. "i can feel you're almost there," he encourages, while starting to move his fingers in and out of you at a ruthless pace, making your breath shallow and your high rapidly approach again. "let go for me, princesa," he groans, and hurries to meet his lips against yours to catch any noises you could make during your release.

you’re not sure how you get to hop down the desk and sit on your chair with the way your legs are trembling due to your orgasm, but somehow, you make it. you cough to clear your voice, and make sure that your tone is even when you tell the person knocking that it’s okay to come in.

kepa locks eyes with you when you both notice who it is. "oh. sorry" christian shifted awkwardly when he saw his teammate sitting directly in front of you, sensing that he had interrupted something. you two were never alone in a private room, and if you were, you two could be heard by your angry shouts from miles away. instead, you’re awkwardly smiling while the goalkeeper is pretending to be concentrated over some papers that were resting on the desk, trying -and failing- to justify his presence in your office. “i just came to get my phone back," the american gestures to the artifact resting on the massage table.

when christian finally gets what he was looking for, he’s ready to walk out the door: he doesn’t ask why are you two alone, and he certainly doesn't try to prolong his stay any longer than he has to. although his friend doesn't say anything, kepa knows that the american had noticed all of the signs of what had gone down. he just smirked slyly when the curly haired boy looked his way, and muttered "see you later, kepa," at which the goalkeeper nodded.

“do you think he realized?,” you anxiously ask once the american has left the room, and you hear his footsteps subsiding. you start gnawing on your lower lip, afraid that, if your superiors get to know about your little encounter, your position in the team could be in jeopardy. “unless he’s blind, yeah, he did,” kepa laughs, and your cheeks heat up under his wicked gaze. you elbowed him as vengeance, and even though he folds in pain, he has enough air to mutter “everyone already knew that you were in love with me, princesa, no need to hide it any longer”.

#kepa arrizabalaga x you #kepa arrizabalaga x y/n #kepa arrizabalaga x reader #kepa arrizabalaga imagine #kepa arrizabalaga smut #football imagine #football x y/n #football x reader #football x you

327 notes · View notes

jamespotterismydaddy · 9 months

Text

Little Bride

daemon x niece!reader smut

A/N: based on a request here! also i don't understand high valyrian conjugation so kepa just means father in every time it's used

TW: smut!!, incest, DUBCON, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, spanking, exhibitionism because of under the table shenanigans

word count: 1,563 words

You haven’t seen Daemon since you were seven years old and you’ve missed him deeply. Everyone says that he hates Alicent Hightower’s children but he always said you had the true blood of the dragon running in your veins. You were always his favourite but it’s been over a decade since his latest exile and you most definitely aren’t a little girl anymore.

“Zaldrīzes riña.” (dragon girl) You hear from behind you as you make your way to your chambers. Only one person calls you that.

“Kepus?” You say as you turn around and squeal when you lay eyes on him. You run down the hallway and throw your arms around his shoulders before blushing when you realize how unladylike your actions are. You slowly remove yourself from him. “Sorry.” You say timidly. He laughs.

“Don’t be. I don’t remember the last time someone was so thrilled to see me.” His eyes take in the sight of you but you don’t notice the predatory nature of his gaze. “You’ve grown, little girl.”

“That’s what happens when you are away for so long.” You say petulantly. He chuckles and looks over you. His eyes fixate on the swell of your breasts. He seems like he may say something when he’s interrupted.

“Should you not be preparing for supper, daughter?” The voice of the Queen rings out as she shoots the filthiest glare at your uncle. Your mother hates Daemon.

“Of course, your Grace.” You say and curtsey before running off, shooting your uncle a passing smile.

“I'll see you at supper then, zaldrīzes riña.” Daemon calls out after you. He looks to your mother. “Hello, Alicent. You’re looking well.” He says with a wolfish grin and makes himself busy with greeting another noble before the Queen can retort.

~~~

When you arrive to the family dinner that night, Daemon has saved a spot next to him for you, much to your mothers dismay. You take it eagerly.

“Glad to have you home, brother.” The King says as he raises his cup and you all follow in suit, toasting to Daemon’s return.

The room falls into steady conversation, steady enough for people to not notice when

Daemon whispers things in your ear that make you blush.

“This is a very pretty dress, niece.” He says as he plays with the collar of the gown. His hand begins to trail down it. “Very expensive fabric.” The roaming hand decides on its destination being your upper thigh.

“T-Thank you.” You say with a light smile as he turns his attention elsewhere, talking to your father about things that you don’t understand.

After a few moments, the hand on your thigh begins to move. You sigh in relief, hoping he will take it off and relieve you of the warm feeling in your tummy but that isn’t what happens. Your uncle’s hand moves discreetly to the hem of your skirts, and to your dismay, he begins to lift them. You give him a pleading and confused look, not really sure what’s happening but he doesn’t even look at you as he seems to be fully focused on his conversation with your father.

You take a sip of wine, trying to distract yourself, but it only causes you to choke as you feel his fingers ghost over your smallclothes.

“Are you alright?” Daemon says in a faux-concerned tone as you cough. You only manage to nod in response before he goes back to ignoring you.

He slips his fingers to the side of your undergarments and pushes them to the side so he can feel how wet you are. You could swear you see a slight smile twinge at his lips. You try not to look at him, or anybody, as you feel his two fingers slip inside of you. You hope you don’t give anything away with your face as you reach down to clutch his hand, trying to pull it away, to make him stop, but it’s to no avail. Your attempts are almost pathetic with how little they do to faze him.

The whole scene of it is filthy, Daemon talking politics with his brother as his fingers pump in and out of his virgin niece’s soaked cunny right next to him, her father right across the table from the two of them. One look at the princesses face could have them both found out as she tries not to squirm in her seat.

You feel yourself edging closer to your peak but it never comes. You’re humiliated by the whole act of it but you feel needy for him when he pulls his hand away. You hold in a visible reaction even though it seems that Daemon wouldn’t know the difference as he acts like he never even touched you.

For the rest of dinner, you’re unfocused. Aemond tries to make conversation with you but you can’t do much more than nod and give short answers. You’re very much in disbelief that you hardly realize when supper has ended. Your brothers and sister leave quickly. Your mother left early with your father because of his sickness. You’re left alone with your dear uncle and some servants.

“Leave us.” Daemon says and the servants scurry out of the room.

Your uncle stalks over to you and you keep inching away until you hit the table. He towers over you. You still feel like a child next to him.

“Kepus.” You try to speak sternly. “What you did was wrong and you shall not do anything like it again.”

“If it was wrong then why did you like it so much?” He looks you in the eyes as he grabs your chin and tilts it up.

“It was terribly improper.”

“Hmm. I think you liked the attention. Daddy never gives you any, does he? And mommy is too focused on her problem child.” He says condescendingly.

The hand that doesn’t hold your chin goes to your waist. He traces up and down… the curve of your hips… of your breasts.

“I’m a princess. I get more than enough attention.” You say petulantly but your voice wavers.

“Then why haven’t you pushed me off?” He asks and you immediately try to push him away… pathetically. It’s little effort for him to turn you around and bend you over the table with your hands pinned behind you. “Dumb girl. Look at your trying to put up a fight. It’s not nice to deny kepa.” Kepa, he says, not kepus.

“Get off of me!” You try to squirm under his grasp.

“What happened to the girl a few hours ago who was so excited to see me?” He teases as he begins to use one hand to hike up your skirts.

“Kepa-... kepus, stop now!” You cringe when you call him the name he just referred to himself as.

“Aww so you like calling me that. You want daddy to take care of you.” He gets your skirts to your waist and you feel the cold air when he tugs your smallclothes.

“No, kepusss.” You whine at him and squeal when his hand slaps your ass.

“That’s not what you’re meant to call me, baby. And you need to be quiet, don’t want the guards outside to hear when i’m pounding the little princesses cunny, do we?”

“But… kepa i-i’m meant to save myself for my husband.” You say when you feel something long and hard rubbing between your thighs. His hand snakes around and he shoves two fingers in your mouth.

“Good, then i’ll get to bloody my cock with your maidenhead.” He says simply before shoving himself inside, the fingers in your mouth barely muting your scream. “That’s it, just take it and suck on kepa’s fingers like a little baby.” He says as he keeps bullying his cock inside of you. “Gods, you’re so fucking tight.” He lays another smack on your ass. “I’m gonna put a baby in you, make you mine.”

“Mmm.” You moan around his fingers, starting to realize that you enjoy the treatment once the pain has somewhat faded. He fucks into you as hard as he can, making you see stars.

“I’ll make you my wife and i’ll eat this little cunny every night, have you screaming and begging for me as you cry.” His hands grip your hips roughly and you can feel the formation of bruises coming on. He lets go only for a second so he can spank your ass a few more times because he just loves how you whimper.

You feel him finally start to slow and the deep, lasting thrusts are what sends you over the edge. You have never came so hard as you squeeze around him and feel yourself tense up. He fucks you through your high before spilling his seed deep inside you.

“Fuck.” He says as he takes his fingers out of your mouth.

You still feel molded to the shape of his cock even once he’s pulled himself out.

He wipes your drool away in an almost loving way and then helps you turn around so you can sit on the table. He situates himself between your thighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You did so well, zaldrīzes riña.” He presses a few more kisses to your face and you blush at the tender action. “You’ll make a perfect bride.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

#daemon smut #daemon #daemon targaryen #daddy daemon #daemon targaryen smut #hotd #hotd smut #daemon x reader #daemon x you

2K notes · View notes

mxsonxmountx · 10 months

Text

KA x rainy day

Word count: 448

Requested: Yes/No

Bold: Kepa

Italics: you

Having a day off with Kepa your boyfriend was rare, but when it came around it was one of your favourite weekends. Just being able to relax and not having to do anything too stressful. It was predicted that it was going to be a rainy day, so you opted for a movie night together. Something that you both haven’t done in ages. It was 9:30am and Kepa was still asleep next to you, you gradually got out of bed to get ready in your leggings and oversized hoodie so you could go to the supermarket and get all the supplies that you needed for the movie and pamper night. You stopped off to grab some breakfast for you both hoping that when you was back that he would be awake waiting for you. When you arrived home you could smell the fresh toast, eggs and bacon being cooked by Kepa. “Good morning my love, I’ve made us breakfast” “I’ve got some bits for our movie night tonight, I thought it would be nice. Just to have some time with you for a change. Got some pamper things, coffee and some fruit for breakfast” “Movie and pamper night with you is my favourite relaxation” “I know” you put everything in the fridge/cupboard so you knew where it was for tonight.

Hours have passed, you’ve been getting everything ready and relaxed when you can since you’ve had a busy week at work. Kepa got the whole of the cinema room ready for you both, the cinema room rarely got used but when it did, it holds memories for you both. “Babe, I’ve almost finished are you ready?” “I’m ready princess” you brought everything into the room and he had the whole room ready with fairy lights, cushions, beanbags and blankets ready for you both. You placed everything on floor for you both to reach, he followed you in with some wine and glasses. You picked the first couple of films and he picked the others for you both to watch. Both of you loved times like this, just being able to spent time together, alone, no stress, no worries just pure happiness.

You noticed that Kepa got himself comfortable on your lap, you couldn’t help but to run your nails up and down his back which would mean before you knew it he’d be asleep in your lap. You started tracing patterns on the back of his head, his breathing got more relaxed than before. “I love you my darling” “I love you too” and with that he was asleep. Did you mind? No. Did you care? No. Did you love him? More than he could ever imagine.

#kepa arrizabalaga x reader #kepa arrizabalaga x y/n #kepa arrizabalaga x you #kepa insta au #kepa fanfic #kepa arrizabalaga au #kepa imagine #kepa arrizabalaga imagine #kepa arrizabalaga #kepa arrizabalaga smut #kepa arrizabalaga one shot #Mxsonxmountx

28 notes · View notes

elaratyrell · 9 months

Text

Daemon Targaryen x Fem! Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon {Lessons In Lovemaking}

*All images found on Pinterest*

Requested By: @thatsgayyouknow

Warnings: Threesome, double penetration, unprotected sex, piv sex, anal, vaginal and anal fingering, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, language, use of kepa, Jace's monster dick, Daemon is technically cheating on Rhaenyra, drinking... I think that's it... this is pure filth *Divider from Firefly Graphics*

Request/Synopsis: “Hi I was wondering if you could do something where Daemon is helping show Jace how to please his lover. If you could possibly fill it with has much smut as possible and maybe even do it where the reader takes both of them at the same time.”

A/N: Reader is described as having Valyrian ancestors but this won't affect their appearance as it was hundreds of years ago

*Not fully proof read*

You had been feeling eyes on you all evening.

You were slowly growing used to the feeling of being watched during banquets like this, what with being married to Prince Jacaerys for several moons now. Being the Princess of Dragonstone came with its share of benefits and disadvantages, it seemed.

But this time it felt different.

Amongst the stares of the various high lords and nobles of the kingdom trying to get a look at their new princess, there was one that felt like it was burning straight through you. It was a hungry, intense gaze.

One with lustful intentions.

And it wasn’t coming from your husband.

Your gaze travelled to where that piercing look was coming from, your eyes locking with a pair of lilac ones.

Your father in law, Daemon Targaryen, had his eyes locked on you ever since you'd sat down.

Occasionally, his gaze flickered over to his wife, Rhaenyra, murmuring an agreement to whatever she was saying or pressing a kiss to her palm, but otherwise it was entirely focused on you.

You were dressed in a deep red gown with black lace detailing. Half of your hair was twisted into a braid crown and pinned back, a tiara of gold and rubies adorning your head.

You were every bit a Targaryen princess.

The match with Jacaerys arose due to your family, along with having Valyrian ancestry, bending the knee for Rhaenyra and supporting her as heir after the death of her father. Fortunately, her younger half brother Aegon had declined to oppose her, and she was crowned. While your marriage to Jacaerys was indeed an arranged affair, you had managed to find love with the young prince, and he with you.

You were the very image of young love that had only bloomed since your nuptials.

There was only one slight crack in your relationship.

Intimacy.

You and Jacaerys were both young and inexperienced on your wedding night. You were thankful that he declined the bedding ceremony, the both of you basking in the warm glow of your private chambers all night.

But since then, moments such as that had been sparse between the two of you, and while Jace had been an attentive and loving husband, you found yourself yearning for more intimacy between the two of you. Any attempts at initiating such things had resulted in Jace telling you that it was late and you were both too tired, or that he didn't want to hurt you, bringing up memories of your discomfort on your wedding night.

It wasn't your fault he was incredibly well endowed.

You were sure that you could both navigate yourselves through the act of lovemaking without bringing you pain.

You just needed to explore that aspect of your relationship more.

And you had decided that tonight would be that night.

Perhaps it was because of the way you had been alone with your thoughts for most of the evening, perverse desires swimming in your mind, or the fact that Jace's touch, whether it was placing his hand over yours, or on your thigh in an innocent manner, a source of comfort...

Or perhaps it was the way Daemon's stare had made your thighs rub together and your skin flush with heat.

No matter the reason, your lips found Jace's the moment he closed your chamber doors behind him, and while initially taken aback by your rather bold action, he eagerly kissed back, his hands travelling to rest on your back while yours tangled in his hair. You smirked against his lips as you felt the lace of your dress loosen.

Once your dress was undone, pooling around your feet, you attempted to tug off Jace's clothes, but he lightly grabbed your wrists, his forehead resting against yours, your chests heaving and lips swollen.

"I... can't..."

"Why not?" You whispered, eyes locking with his. "Jace... I need you. I want you. I want to feel you. Feel loved by you."

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"You won't."

"How do you know that?"

"There are things that can be done to ensure that the act is not painful, but pleasurable. I have read about it-"

"Y/N!"

"Jace, you left me with no other choice," You suddenly snapped, chest heaving. "We have not been intimate since our wedding."

"I know... and believe me, my love, I have yearned to be close with you as well," Jace sighed, taking your hands in his. "But you know that we are not exactly well educated in the act of love making. Look at who we were surrounded with to teach us. Me, with my alcoholic uncle who viewed women as objects and you, with two married sisters who refused to speak on the subject-"

"It seems you could use some guidance in the matter."

You and Jace both turned to see Daemon leaning in the open doorway, arms folded and a slight smirk on his face. Jace stepped between his stepfather than you, an arm protectively outstretched to protect your dignity.

"You could have granted us the liberty of knocking to prepare us for your arrival," Jace spoke, his voice surprisingly stern, almost authoritative, as he addressed his stepfather. Usually his tone would be more respectful, but when you were involved, he didn't care who he was addressing.

"I was about to, but I found your conversation to be far too interesting," Daemon replied, taking a step forward.

"That's close enough," Jace said, his arm pushing you further behind him. Daemon tilted his head, taking another step towards his stepson.

"I merely wish to offer my... expertise, on your issue."

"We do not require such guidance from you."

Daemon smirked. "This doesn't just concern you, Jacaerys. What about you, byka mēre?" [little one]

The way those Valyrian words dripped from his tongue made a shudder run down your spine, your thighs squeezing together.

"She does not need you or your silver tongued words-" Jace began, but he was silence by Daemon raising a hand.

"I was not addressing you, Jacaerys," He said dismissively, curling a finger towards you to beckon you closer.

Jace's grip on your waist loosened as you pulled away from him, hesitantly stepping towards Daemon.

"There you are, byka mēre," His smirk was like a serpent's as he spoke in that honeyed tone. Gentle, but with an edge. Something lingered behind it, and it just took one look into his eyes, the way his pupils darkened when focused on her, to know why. "Tell me, what do you wish to know?"

"I..." You tried to speak, but your mouth was completely dry. You could practically feel yourself shrink in front of Daemon's imposing stare. His presence filled the room, and you couldn't help but find yourself in awe of him.

"Do not tell me you are suddenly feeling shy, little dove," Daemon murmured, reaching out to run his thumb over your lower lip. "You can tell me."

"I... well... I wish to know how to be... how to feel..."

"How to feel true pleasure?" He asked, eyes glittering like amethysts. She nodded, and he turned to address his stepson.

"Have you not been satisfying your beautiful bride, Jacaerys?" He raised an eyebrow.

"That is none of your concern."

"But your wife wishes it to be. Do you want me to help you, byka jorrāelagon?" [little love]

"Daemon-"

"I do," Your voice was nothing more than a hushed murmur, but both Daemon and Jace heard you, the latter shooting you a look of slight hurt.

"Do you hear that Jacaerys? She wants me to guide her."

"You will not touch her," Jace glared, fists clenched.

"That is not your choice to make," Daemon replied with a smirk. "Do you want me to touch you, little one?" He asked, earning a nod from you in response.

"I will not have this-"

"Do you wish for your wife to be happy, Jacaerys?" Daemon interrupted his stepson, raising an eyebrow.

"Well... well yes..."

"You want her to feel satisfied? To feel pleasure?"

"Of course-"

"And giving her such pleasure would make her happy, yes?"

Jace breathed out a sigh, his gaze fixed on the ground and his jaw clenched. "...Yes..." He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Then surely that means that whatever your wife wishes... you should grant her? Or in this instance... allow me to grant her?"

Jace's gaze snapped up to meet Daemon's. "Do you not have any loyalty to my mother? To your wife?"

"Of course I do, Jacaerys," Daemon replied smoothly. "But your pretty little wife here wishes for the guidance I have offered. Do not fret," His lip curled into a smile. "I will make sure it is not a regular occurrence."

Jace looked at you, meeting your gaze as you silently pleaded with him.

"Even if it goes against your wishes," Daemon added. "I'm sure it will only be a matter of time before your wife seeks me out. So, we can do this tonight... or whenever she finds me in private-"

"Fine!" Jace exclaimed, letting out a deep breath. "Very well."

You rushed over to him, cupping his face in your hands and pressing your lips to his. "Thank you, my love. Do not fret, I will make this up to you." You whispered, pressing another kiss, this time to his cheek, as he took your hands in his.

"If this is what you truly want, I will not stand in your way of happiness," He murmured, laying a kiss to the back of your hand.

"I love you."

"And I you, dearest." He mustered you a small smile, kissing your other hand before letting you go. You stepped back, giving him one last smile before turning to Daemon, who outstretched a hand towards you.

"Shall we, byka mēre?"

You nodded, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you over to the bed.

"If you feel overwhelmed, little one, you need only tell me. I will stop. I give you my word of that."

"I assure you, your grace, I will not require that."

"You need not call me that, byka jorrāelagon, " Daemon murmured, looking down at you. "You may call me kepa. Understood?"

"Yes," You replied. "Kepa." You quickly added.

"Jacaerys, you may either step outside or take a seat. I do not require you at this moment" Daemon said, glancing over to his nephew. "Actually, I think that you had better watch. You will need to stay to learn how a lady can be pleasured."

Jace slumped down in a chair by the fireplace, glaring at his stepfather's rather smug expression, his jaw clenched, no doubt to hold back any words he may regret. He did not wish to upset you, or deny you your wish, and Daemon had a larger influence, over both the kingdom and Rhaenyra that he could use to his advantage should Jacaerys change his mind.

He didn't want to push you away.

So he would bite his tongue, and hold himself back for tonight.

"Right now, little dove," Daemon's attention was now fully focused on you. "First, let's remove these undergarments. Let me see you."

His touch lit your skin on fire as his hands slid down your arms to settle on your waist before moving to your back. You let out a small gasp at the ripping sound as he tore the garment from you body, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you completely bare before him.

His lilac gaze darkened as he circled around you, like a predator around its prey.

Because that is what you were.

His prey for tonight.

And he was going to devour you.

"My, my, what a stunning little creature you are. I can see why my stepson is so enamoured with you..." He murmured, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine, sending an involuntary shiver at his touch. "Do not worry, little dove," He added, coming to stand in front of you, his hands moving to cup your face. "Kepa will take good care of you. Lay down on the bed for me, little one."

Complying with his orders, you settled yourself on the bed behind you, the silken sheets smooth against your bare skin.

"Sȳz riña,"[good girl] He praised, ridding himself of his tunic and undershirt to expose his toned torso to you. He was healthy, strong, with a warrior's body.

"You enjoy what you see, jorrāelagon mēre?"[dear one] He smirked slightly at your lustful gaze. Hesitantly, you nodded, making the smirk widen. "You need not shy away from me, dārilaros, my purpose tonight is to help you, to fulfil your wishes, understood?" [princess]

"Yes, kepa," You murmured, gazing up at him with those eyes of yours, wide like a does as he leaned forward to capture you lips in a hungry kiss, one that was full of desire and unbridled lust, one that consumed you. It did not contain the passion and tenderness of Jace's, but sent a jolt of excitement through you nonetheless.

Daemon nipped at your lower lip, a whimper slipping through as you parted your lips to allow his tongue to enter your mouth. He gently pushed you down so you were laying on your back, one hand bracing himself above you while the other moved to your breast, rolling a hardening nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He made sure to settle himself on one side of you so Jacaerys could get a full view of the way your body reacted to his touch, so he could see the way you arched into Daemon as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses in his wake, his hand still fondling your breast.

You tilted your head back against the pillows as his teeth grazed the sweet spot at the base of your throat, your breath hitching slightly. Daemon smirked against your neck, his lips latching onto the spot and sucking into the skin. His hand left your breast, tracing along the curve of your waist, your hips, your stomach, before settling to part your legs. Dipping between them, he glided a finger between your folds, gathering your arousal on his forefinger.

"So wet with desire for me already, byka mēre," He murmured, lifting his head from your neck where the skin had began to bloom with the irritation from his teeth. He lifted the finger to his lips, tasting you. "Heavenly. However did you restrain yourself Jacaerys? If I had your privilege I would feast on you every night, dārilaros."

"H-he said... he said he didn't want to hurt me..." You breathed out, chest heaving already from the attention Daemon had given you.

"That is because he doesn't know how to prepare you, dove," Daemon replied. "But do not worry, kepa will help you."

It didn't hurt when he inserted his first finger inside of you, or even the second, stretching your walls as his thumb lazily circled your clit.

"Be patient, byka mēre," He tutted as you desperately bucked your hips against his fingers, desperate for more friction. "We don't want this to be over quickly, do we? I have you all night, and I tend to take advantage of that."

The way he'd murmur those words only grew your desire for more. You wanted him inside of you, to feel him stretch you out and join you as one. But you also understood he was there to guide and teach you the ways of pleasure.

And you knew he was going to take his sweet time.

Your hands braced on his shoulders, nails digging crescent marks into his skin as he pushed a third finger inside.

"Does it hurt?"

"A... a little..." You whispered. "But please don't stop, kepa. Please... keep going."

"As you wish, dārilaros," He smirked, pumping his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still circling your sensitive bud.

It wasn't long until you came undone for the first time that night. The way Daemon's fingers curled against you and the way he'd press against your clit soon sending you over the edge.

Daemon lifted his fingers to your lips. "Open, little one," He husked, lilac eyes blown with lust as you sucked his fingers clean.

"Sȳz riña." [good girl]

His replaced his fingers with his lips, humming to himself as he tasted you on your lips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, rolling your hips against his.

"Wait did I say about patience?" He whispered against your ear, catching the lobe between his teeth. "It isn't me I'm preparing that sweet little cunt for, jorrāelagon mēre..." [dear one]

His whisper sent a shudder straight through you, head tilting to the side to focus on where Jace was sat by the fireplace, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white, those usually warming brown eyes now black, chest heaving with heavy breaths as his bulge strained beneath his breeches.

You knew Jace was struggling to maintain his composure, that it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

You kept your gaze locked on him as Daemon kissed your neck, tongue gliding over the bruise he'd left earlier before focusing his attention on your breast, teeth catching your nipple and making your head tilt back in pleasure. Breathy moans filled the room as he paid the same attention to your other breast before leaving a line of kisses down your stomach, your hips, before his head settled between your legs, draping them over his shoulders.

He feasted on you like a man starved, groaning at your sweet taste while your fingers tangled in his silver tresses. Every time his tongue would press against your clit, or flick against your walls made you roll your hips against him, fingers tugging at his hair that only made him growl against your, the vibrations only tightening the coil twisting in the pit of your stomach.

Your thighs squeezing around his head only made him bury his tongue deeper inside of you, rolling onto his back so you were now straddling his head. His hands planted themselves on your waist, guiding your hips to roll down against him, nose brushing against your clit.

Daemon had a reputation for having a skilled silver tongue, and he certainly put it to good use, bringing you to the brink once again, eagerly lapping at your juices like it was the finest feast in the seven kingdoms.

You let out deep gasps of breaths as you moved yourself from Daemon, who sat up beside you, lips glistening with your arousal.

"I think you might be ready, don't you?" He asked, hooking his finger beneath your chin so your eyes locked with his. You nodded, Daemon smirking and brushing your hair from your eyes. "Alright, little one. Jacaerys." He called over to his stepson the way an owner would to a dog, but Jacaerys rose to his feet all the same, his brisk strides bringing himself to your side in an instant, his hand protectively resting on shoulder as he glared at his uncle.

"It seems she's ready for you." Daemon said, pouring himself a goblet of Dornish wine. "Be gentle, let her set the pace. Perhaps you should be on top, byka mēre," He suggested, that glint in his eyes making Jace narrow his in suspicion. "Don't tell me you are going to back away now, Jacaerys," Daemon continued. "It will upset your dear wife so."

"Of course I haven't," Jace replied, his voice stern and clear, but when he looked at you, his glare directed at his stepfather softened. "If she still wants this." He added, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as you insisted your stance had not changed. "As you wish, my love," He murmured, standing from the bed to rid himself of his clothing.

Jacaerys leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you into his arms so he could manoeuvre you both, him laying on his back and you straddling his waist, his hardened cock pressing against you. His hands found your waist as you positioned yourself above him, slowly lowering yourself onto him, your head tilted back and mouth slightly agape at the heavenly feeling of him stretching your walls.

"Does it feel alright?" Jace whispered.

You nodded, leaning down to kiss him again. "I'm fine," You murmured against his lips.

The sound of Daemon's empty goblet being placed back down on the table echoed around the room, making you pull away from Jace, looking behind you to see Daemon removing the rest of his clothes.

"Hold on, you said-"

"I said she was ready for you, I never said that I was finished with her yet," Daemon interrupted his stepson's protests, walked behind you to whisper in your ear.

"Do you think you can take me as well, dārilaros," He whispered, warm breath fanning against the shell of you ear. He let out a small hum of approval at your nod of response, lips pressing against your shoulder as he leaned you forward slightly.

"Relax for me, byka mēre," He cooed in your ear, his finger teasing the entrance to your puckered hole. "Kepa will not hurt you unless you wish for him to."

You clenched around his finger as he slowly pushed it into you, gently moving it in and out. Beneath you, you felt Jace's cock twitch inside of you, as though pleading with you to move. His gaze was focused on you as your expression twisted into one of pleasure, your hands braced against his chest as Daemon continued working on preparing you for him.

When he deemed you were ready, he slowly entered you, hand holding your hip to keep you in place as he sheathed himself inside of you.

The feeling of being filled up by the two of them was almost euphoric, Daemon stretching you out perfectly despite not being as well endowed as Jacaerys (although still impressive).

"Are you ready, dōna mēre?"[sweet one] Daemon asked, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

"Yes... please kepa... please let me move..." You whispered.

"Ssh, little one," He hushed you. "It's alright. You can move when I tell you, understood? When I pull out of you, that's when you can move, yes?"

You nodded. "Yes, I understand, kepa."

"Sȳz riña," Daemon whispered, lips brushing against your temple as he slowly drew out of you, his grip on your hip loosening to allow you to move up and down along Jace's length. When you lifted yourself off of him, Daemon entered you once again, establishing a slow but steady rhythm.

You let out a moan as Jace pressed a thumb against your swollen pearl, the sensitive bud sending another jolt of pleasure through you as Daemon picked up the pace, guiding your hips faster. Jace sat up to capture your lips with his, more passionate than the last.

The kiss broke as Daemon grabbed your hair, tugging your head back to replace Jace's lips with his, exposing your throat for Jace to lay his own claim on you.

After your two previous orgasms, you knew you wouldn't last longer, and when Jace applied more pressure to your clit and Daemon snapped his hips against your ass, you were tipped over the edge, your third orgasm of the evening coming over you like a tidal wave.

Daemon's hips stuttered against you, and stood still for a moment as he reached his release, laying a kiss to the top of your head as he slowly pulled out of you, using his finger to push any of his load back into your hole.

"Finish inside of her Jacaerys," He said, stepping back. "I'm sure she'd look quite heavenly with her stomach swollen with your heir."

You had been waiting all evening for Jace to snap, to take control, and Daemon's comment must have triggered something within him, as the next thing you knew, you're husband had you pinned down beneath him as he rutted into you like a depraved animal, his mouth on yours swallowing the moans and cries that ripped through you at the relentless pace he'd set.

"Do you want that?" He all but growled against her lips. "To be swollen with my heir? My babe?"

"Please Jace..." You breathed. "Ñuha dārilaros, ñuha zaldrīzes, fill me with your seed so that I may grant you an heir." [my prince, my dragon]

And with that, Jace spilled himself inside of you, and like Daemon, he made sure none of his release went to waste, pushing it back inside of you.

"It seems my work here is done," Daemon smirked, redressing himself. "Well done, Jacaerys, I hope you grant your wife her wishes more often now." He walked over to where you were sprawled out on the bed, covered in a sheen of sweat. He crouched down and leaned forward, his lips hovering over your ear as he whispered so only you could hear.

"If you require me again, ñuha dārilaros, you need only ask," You could practically hear the smirk as he purred into your ear. "I'm sure nobody would bat an eye if your babe was born with silver hair. Jacaerys does carry the blood of the dragon in his veins." [my princess]

And with a gentle kiss to your forehead, he rose to his feet, and left, closing the door behind him and leaving you and Jacaerys to catch your breaths, and realise what in seven hells had just happened.

If you wanted to be added to the general HOTD taglist or taglists for specific character/s, just let me know

Masterlist

#Daemon Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen x reader #Daemon Targaryen imagine #Jacaerys Velaryon #Jacaerys Velaryon x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon imagine #House of the dragon #House of the dragon x reader #House of the dragon imagine #House of the dragon smut #Daemon Targaryen x reader x Jacaerys Velaryon

1K notes · View notes