Relief
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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing45m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Aug 8, 2023
Summary: You're a massage therapist at a high end spa in Nashville and wind up getting Jack White as a client. After having your hands on him for an extended period of time, you decide to take things a bit further. Warning: Smut, dirty talk, oral sex, face fucking, domination (to a degree), swearing, condomless sex (pls use a condom irl i'm literally begging) PLEASE READ Author's Note: Y'all... this is the first fanfic and smut I've ever written, so if it's a mess please don't drag me lmao. I started writing this when the pandemic first started, so this fic was born out of complete and utter boredom. It was also born from the fact that there's barely any Jack White fics out here, and many of the ones that already exist are on abandoned Tripod or Geocities fan pages from 2003. Another disclaimer is that the first few chapters are a bit slow, and as of right now I'm like 90% finished with the whole fic. So yeah, keep all of this in mind. Thanks for reading! xo
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BRENDAN The first on-ice time after a rest is always when I realize, anew, that I feel simply better with my skates on: more alive, more myself. It's like someone wiped away the dust over the glass I see the world trough: everything is more vivid. ... The Coach calls me and talks directly my duty: "We already know Jesperi is able to play with us." He says. I translate 'he is able' in: 'we need him desperately', but I don't say a word and the coach goes on: "But I doubt Weiner can stand the pressure." I ask the next question even if I already know the answer, because you know, it's first day and the two guys are so new: "You want me just to verbal stress them, or do I get physical?" The coach looks at me, bored: "Am I breathing?" He asks. I grin. SERENA I keep walking, but the blond guy remark stings. Of course I'm not his type. I bet he likes petite blondes showing thin floss-between-ass-cheeks selfies on social and thinner sense of humor. He's not my type, either. I'd rather tall men with dangerous look. I've never been on pretty blond guys with boyish grin. I like the Jason Momoa type and if I had to break my no-date rule it would be with someone like... Ok. Who am I lying to? In my rules book, number zero is about no sex... aaand.... I'm not going there. ... I freeze. I'm doing the math: hot guys, broad shoulders, necks large as jaws, broken noses, big egos... I turn around and stare at the office entrance just while the black-haired, angel-faced guy pushes the glass door and enter the office reception. BEFORE YOU GET STARTED: Sex scenes are explicit. If you're under eighteen or too sensitive, please don't read. English is not my native language, I improved it by writing this fanfic, please let me know where I got it wrong and please, comment, so I will improve! I had fun writing, I hope you'll have fun too!

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