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pseudowho · 10 months ago

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Fire and Iron

Forced to stay the night with Nanami Kento, the town's blacksmith, after tending to his wounds, you find yourself smouldering in his irresistible flame.

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, loss of virginity

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Your boots cracked through the ice-topped slurry puddles scattering the mud path in the village. The shawl bundled over your shoulders was not enough, and the biting cold wind whipped your cloak back, stripping its usefulness off your shivering shoulders.

Townsfolk waved to you, nodding, smiling; greetings for a familiar face, many of them grateful for your travels to their icy town over the years, lacking even a basic healer of their own, let alone one so talented.

Passing by the blacksmith's hut on your way, you paused out the front, feeling the heat bellowing forth like dragon's breath. You tipped your head back, the smell of ash and steel filling your nose. As you paused, moments after, so did the clang of hammer on anvil.

You opened your eyes, stinging in the brutal cold and smoke. You, once more, like a hundred times before, had caught the eye of the blacksmith. He, whose name you did not know. He, who looked but never touched. He, to whom you had passed so many thousands of hours of your life, and his life to you, through gaze alone.

Stood proud at the anvil, shadowing the forge like the door to hell behind him, his broad shoulders wore only an open-chested white linen shirt, and a thick brown leather apron. With his ashy blond hair, and the lines of his face filled with soot, he was ageless and unknowable. He looked to you, his sharp face quiet and impassive; expression always somewhere between fury and tranquility.

Your lips parted once, as if to speak, and it jumped the blacksmith to life. With a barely perceptible nod, and a grunt, he swung his hammer back, brought down in beautiful accuracy, shaping smouldering steel. The clang rung through you, your chest jolting with a short gasp, and you collected yourself, stepping onwards. You were sure you could feel his cool gaze through the back of your head.

Another patient; another healed. Another grateful family; another life prolonged. The days were short now, and as you stepped out of the house of rough-hewn wood and stone, the forest pines were bathed in dying light, netting the low winter sun above the horizon. It was a punishing journey home, on foot, and the horses were long since put to bed.

The blacksmith's hut held its own sunset, the forge open but unattended. You heard stamps, heavy feet and cursing. You paused in the burst of warmth, illuminated, listening. Curiosity carried your feet into the hut, the heavy wet hem of your skirts collecting ashes, absorbing the blacksmith's domain.

"Are you...are you alright?" You called, uncertain, "Sir?" The footsteps, the swearing, had stopped. You stepped further in, feeling the forge belch at you, almost excruciatingly hot now.

"Get away from there!" The bark, deep and commanding, made you squeak and stumble. Darting through the side door, the blacksmith looped one thick arm round your waist before you fell towards the forge, effortlessly lifting you round, his back to the furnace, his face in shadow.

He was close; close enough that you could smell the soft sweat, the tang of fire and metal. He hissed as your hands dropped to his forearm, and you felt a cold dripping cloth draped over it.

"Do you often wander into places uninvited?" He snipped at you. You recognised the cadence in his low voice-- pain.

"I-- ...you're hurt," you insisted, voice barely above a whisper. Looking up, your eyes tried to gauge his unreadable face in the gloom. You felt him huff, warm air across your cheeks. His arm loosened, releasing you. As he stepped back, turning away to close the forge, you saw the blacksmith's mountainous shoulders tense, twitching.

"It's nothing," he retaliated, brisk. You stepped forwards again, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. At first, he flinched, then begrudgingly allowed you to turn him, and lift the damp rag covering his forearm. A thick welting burn, running the length of his forearm, lay weeping and angry on his skin, already nicked with so many little scars. You heard his teeth grit as the air hit his wound.

"Nothing," you scoffed, "this needs dressing. Let me help you." You felt him flinch beneath your hands, hesitant. He felt his skin prickle under yours, finding such curious pleasure in your touch alongside his pain. Your beseeching eyes took him the rest of the way, and he found himself accepting you.

"I...not here," the blacksmith toned, his eyes flitting to the town around him, "if they believe me injured, I'll lose business." You nodded, rummaging in your overburdened satchel, until he took you gently by the hand.

"My home," he began, hesitant, your hand so soft and small in his broad calloused palm, "you'll...you are welcome. It is clean. Quiet. I...I will not harm you. I promise."

Aware of his size and strength, aware of the air of mystery surrounding him amongst the townsfolk, the blacksmith was quick to reassure you. Your eyes softened, and his thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles at your words, electricity crackling up your arm.

"I know you won't," you assured. The briefest smile graced his severe face when you offered your name. You felt it warm you from the belly downwards. As he pulled encouragingly on your fingers, leaving the forge to die naturally with the approaching nightfall, you were led through the back of the hut, seeing a newly revealed sprawling cabin of wood and stone, at the edge of the forest. You felt the first kiss of snow upon your cheek.

"Nanami Kento," the blacksmith replied, welcoming you over the threshold. You smiled up at him, taking in his home; barely lit, at first, until he struck a lantern to life. You placed your bag upon a table, rummaging for salves as Kento began to build the fire, skilled and efficient.

You basked in the homely room; autumnal tapestries lining the walls, skin rugs on the floor and furs on the chairs, hanging herbs above a countertop, circled with hung skillets and pans. You relaxed easily into the sincerity of Kento's welcome. A frigid wind slapped the windows, rattling the door.

Before long, an enormous cast iron pot boiled with water, and you knelt before Kento, appraising his wound in the orange glow. Cleaning your hands, wetting a rag with clean water, you moved to clean the ash from his arm before pausing.

"This will hurt," you apologised, looking up to him. Kento's heart stuttered; how many hours had he spent, imagining those sweet eyes, those gentle fingers? Too long. Too many words unspoken over too many years. He was not used to such tenderness.

"I am used to pain," he hushed, smooth and barely audible above the crackle of flame, "my job has certain...hazards, after all." You hummed, swiping the cloth gently, removing dirt and debris.

"Still," you hummed, "I don't like to hurt a friend." Kento chuckled, and you felt yourself blush from hairline to toes at the rich mirth of it.

"We are...friends, are we?" His voice was low and conspiratorial, and you felt it stir a hunger deep within you. You smiled back, mulish as you dabbed salve onto his burn. His knees were parted, with you knelt between them, and your elbows rested on the thick muscle of his thighs. You felt safe, warm, held.

"All those years, passing back and forth," you sighed, teasing, "and not one hello? Just lots of nods," your stomach swooped as Kento laughed again, "and our friendship is just that. An accumulation of nods."

"Would we have stopped at 'hello'?" Kento retaliated. He caught the brief pause in your bandaging, before you continued. You spoke, uncertain again.

"Well," you hummed, testing the water, "offer me one now...and we shall see where it goes." Looking up, you gasped to find your face just inches from Kento's. He smiled at you, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips and back up again.

"Hello," he whispered, quiet and mischievous, "and thank you."

Your breath fluttered out; Kento could feel it against his lips, beckoning him.

"I...it's getting late," you started, and Kento blinked out of his reverie, glancing to the inky black outside his windows, "I should go."

Kento grasped your fingers once more, rising with you as he stood, your shawl shushing against his chest, barely covered by his soft linen shirt. Kento hummed, sounding grave, stepping to the other side of the room.

"It is night," he said, hands cupped around his eyes as he squinted out of the windows, "and the woods are barely safe in the day. I...I cannot allow you to travel. Alone, in the snow. You must stay."

His tone broached no argument, yet still you tried, packing your bag, your cheeks aflame.

"I...it isn't..." you stuttered, and Kento turned to you, chin inclined to the floor, one fine eyebrow raised. You took a deep breath, certain that if you didn't leave now, you may fall too deeply into Kento's insistent heat. Yet...you knew he was right. The path was treacherous. The snow would take you before the dawn.

"Would you like a bath?" Kento offered, turned away to save you your blushes; a gentleman.

"I-- please don't go to any trouble--" Kento swiftly ignored you, beginning to grasp the enormous iron pot, lifting it with stunning ease. His voice didn't even hitch.

"It's no trouble. I bathe every night. You can go before me." Kento carried the pan, stepping behind a folding wooden screen, and you followed him as if to argue, watching him begin to fill an enormous copper bathtub. Your hands shook as you began to remove your shawl, still blushing, so briefly overwhelmed before squashing it down.

Kento glanced up at you, pausing as he poured hot water, "This will take me some time," he said, apologetic, "please make yourself comfortable. I'll call for you."

You nodded, clearing your throat, hands twisting in your removed shawl. Kento chastised himself for admiring the soft curve of your breasts into your waist, the hidden delight of the swelling of your hips beneath your heavy skirts. He did not see how the steam rose fast, dampening his white shirt, how you could see all the way to his navel as he leaned over the bath. Neither of you knew how the other stirred within.

As you walked the length of the room, your fingertips brushing tapestries and grazing over warm furs, your curiosity drew you to a wide, flat trinket box, inlaid with mother of pearl, the colours an aurora in the rolling firelight. You stroked the box just once, before lifting the lid.

Your eyes crinkled immediately with joy at the treasures within; the box was full of lovingly crafted necklaces of gold, silver, pearl and gem, the chains finer and softer than any you had ever seen. You did not feel Kento approach as you admired them.

"I'd like for you to choose one," he offered, sincere, as you spun to face him. He raised his hands placatingly, a smile at the edge of his mouth, "not in lieu of payment, of course. A gift, I...made them with no real aim as to who should receive them."

"You made these?" You gaped, unable to fathom how such enormous hands crafted such intricate delights, "Kento, I-- they're beautiful, I couldn't possibly..."

If Kento had held any reservation, after hearing his name tumble from your lips, he was filled with the burning certainty that the jewellery should be for you, and you alone. His hand closed over yours as you moved to shut the box.

"Please," he breathed, so close, "choose one, or I shall give you them all." Swallowing, your hand hovered over a fine chain of silver and emerald, your fingertips brushing the gem. Kento hummed his approval, before picking it up, his calloused fingers all softness and grace.

"My favourite, too," he rumbled, brushing your hair off the nape of your neck as he clipped the necklace into place. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers on your neck, and almost ran as he whispered beside your ear, "Your bath is ready."

Stripping behind the wooden screen, hearing Kento amble around the room beyond, you sighed as the hot water enveloped you. Washing yourself with a soft sponge, cleaning off the grime of the day, your hand wandered absentmindedly downwards, fingertips grazing through your folds, naturally moving to relieve yourself of the building tension--

"I've left you a shirt." Your hand darted upwards with a guilty splash, Kento's voice only meters away behind the screen.

"Thank-- thank you," you squeaked, blushing, before climbing out, so naked apart from your exquisite new necklace. Drying on a soft towel, your hand hesitated over the shirt draped over the screen, before pulling it on over damp skin. It reached down your thighs, but left little else to the imagination.

Kento remained outwardly stoic, unreadable, averting his gaze as you crept out, arms holding yourself and squashing your breasts together, the colour of your nipples as faint as a ghost under the white linen shirt. He cleared his throat, coughing lightly before skirting past to the bath. You felt heat creep up your neck at the gossamer hush of his clothes hitting the floor, the shifting water as he stepped in, the way he sighed in relief, almost as if--

"I shall sleep in the chair tonight," Kento said, slow and considered, "and you shall have my bed." You felt indignation roll within you.

"Don't be ridiculous," you scolded, "you're injured, and this is your home--"

'-- and you are my guest," he grumbled.

"I won't allow it," you insisted, almost forgetting yourself as you approached the wooden screen, "I'll put some furs on the floor and--"

"You believe I would let you sleep on the floor?" He growled, furious at your suggestion, "I should rather you have me share the bed with you over that--"

"Fine. Then we shall share the bed. And there will be no more argument." You clapped a hand over your mouth as the words tumbled forth, unbidden. Mortified by your own suggestion, you removed your hand to speak again.

Kento stepped round from behind the screen, his towel draped lazily round his waist. You gaped up at him, stunned. He was...younger than you thought, his blond hair now soft and floppy, the ash removed from the lines in his face, taking ten years off him. You faced him, his towering form, the practiced rolls, peaks and planes of muscle belonging to a working man, his forearms so thick--

"Then...we should get to bed," Kento insisted, stepping past you, through a doorway to his bedroom, where you heard him rummaging for clothes, "it is late and I am up with the lark."

You hesitated where you stood, feeling your heartbeat between your legs, desperately curious, but paralysed.

"I don't bite," Kento called out, and you gulped down the sounds of soft fabric dropping over his body, still crippled with indecision and embracing yourself as he stepped out to put out the fire. You were lost momentarily in darkness before he stepped to you, the lantern between you, a beacon in the dark. You felt his hand close around your fingers again. You heard him whisper.

"It will become cold quickly, now the fire has died. Come. Stay warm."

You allowed yourself to be led to Kento's bedroom, hypnotised by the small swinging lantern. Kento led your hand downwards, placing it to the edge of the bed for you to feel your way, your fingers gliding through soft fur and cool sheets. With shaking hands, you crawled across to the head of the bed. Kento waited for you, flipping down the sheets, flipping them back up to your chin as you both slipped between them.

You heard nil but your own heartbeat. Kento faced you, the torch light embering behind him leaving him only just visible as your eyes adjusted to the light. The sheets had not yet warmed from your bodies, and you shivered. You felt Kento shift beside you.

"You...are cold," he stated as if in question. You remained quiet, gripping your hands to your chest lest they reach out for him.

"I'm...I'll warm up. Soon," you reassured yourself as much as him. You heard one doubtful grunt from him. Five minutes passed, and still, Kento felt you shiver against the sheets. Pulling a fur up to your chins, he felt prickles up his legs as one of your feet reached hesitantly out to touch him. He felt rather than heard you sigh.

"So warm," you whispered, your little voice soft with comfort in the dark. Kento's breath caught in his chest, feeling his cock twitch inside his soft trousers.

"Do you...need me?" He offered. He felt your other foot reach out in answer, cold toes wiggling against the downy hair on his leg. He felt a dangerous, needy arousal thread through him.

Reaching out his uninjured arm, he hooked it round your waist, chuckling as you squeaked when he pressed against you. You hummed in pleasure at the heat rolling off him, basking in his warmth, forgetting your awkwardness for a moment. Kento and you lay intertwined like that, with you softening like butter in his arms.

After a few minutes, you shifted against him, about to drift off to sleep. Kento must have been near sleep as well, groaning into your hair as you shifted, reflexively clinging you closer to him. Your bottom, completely bare with his shirt shifted up your body, pressed back to his groin. His clothed cock was hard and barely restrained in his loose trousers, and pressed between your thighs.

You felt a jolt run through you, feeling a warm trickle of arousal, so alien to you, seep out between your thighs. Kento almost saw stars as it dampened the trousers over his cockhead, and he frowned, his forehead pressed to your shoulder blade in apology and embarrassment.

"I-- I'm sorry, I--...it's been so long...since I've felt a woman-- shit, I'm--" Kento rested his nose against your neck, unable to stop himself from ghosting his lips there. You dropped your head back to him, and he growled in appreciation, nuzzling your neck, feeling your thighs clamp around the tip of his cock, your arousal seeping through his trousers and mixing with his own.

"I've never--" you whispered, blushing furiously, drunk on the feeling of his body against yours, feeling so curiously empty and aching to be filled. Kento understood immediately, and moved to pull back.

"No!" You squeaked, holding onto his arm, pushing yourself back to chase him along the bed, "Please, I-- I want--...you. I want you." Your words sat heavy in the air. Kento shifted behind you, at war with himself.

"You don't know what you're asking," he growled, fighting against you to remove his arm, "I am no boy."

"And I'm no girl, nor stupid," you reassured, "I'm not ignorant."

In an instant, Kento moved above you, on all fours, his arms caging you in, corseting you to his bed. He stared down at you, enormous chest heaving, eyes roving down your body, quickly intoxicated by your peaked nipples, beneath his shirt, the hem of it barely covering your sex, still feeling your arousal dampening his cock.

He leaned down, nestling his mouth against your neck again, tongue flicking out, tasting you. He felt you still under his lips, just a little mouse, in the jaws of a bear.

"And yet, all that knowledge is just academic, until you're crying out that my cock is too big for you," he growled, warning you away, barely able to stop himself. He felt you squirm beneath him, his head swimming with you. He was lost, then, to your tiny whisper in the gloom.

"Show me-- please." Kento shuddered, a drop of pre-cum seeping out of his cock, soaking through his trousers and your-- his-- shirt, to dampen your belly. You shivered, desperate to know Kento biblically, desperate for this fabled ecstasy.

Kento raised his mouth from your neck, reading your eyes, seeing such certainty in them. Tangling his fingers with yours beneath the sheets, he pressed the length of his body down against you as he kissed you, his other hand framing your jaw, gently encouraging it open to slide his tongue against yours. Your soft little moan was like music to his ears.

Kissing you deeply, learning your voice and your mouth, letting you learn the peaks and planes of his body with your free hand, Kento kept your other hand plaited with his own, fearful of leaving you to take this journey alone.

He felt himself shudder with the unbridled privilege of being able to worship you, jealously grateful that you had not been left to some boy. He was overwhelmed by the need to set your standards high at the first hurdle.

"Let me taste you," he murmured into your mouth, and you hesitated, unsure of what he meant. Swiping his thumb across your palm, Kento's mouth ventured downwards, sucking the skin of your neck, nipping before soothing the skin with his tongue, feeling you become pliable, supple as water. His fingers danced over the laces holding your shirt together, giving you opportunity to stop him, before untying them, freeing your breasts.

Laying his tongue flat over one nipple, Kento allowed it to curve to the shape of you, to know you, before drawing it into his mouth, sucking on your nipple while his hand toyed with and kneaded the other. He revelled in your whines, a high, keening mewl as you arched off the bed into his mouth. You felt his licks and sucks, curiously, between your legs, and you could not help but buck up against him.

Kento grunted at the feeling of your pussy pressing against his thigh, and moved one hand down to hold your hips still.

"Slow down-- let me show you," he ordered, gentle in his insistence. You trembled under his fingertips, your hips settling back to the bed. He rumbled his approval, rolling your nipple under his tongue again until you sighed, breathy and ecstatic, "Good girl."

In reward, his mouth continued to trail downwards, and your eyes fluttered closed, one hand coming to rest on the back of his head, your fingernails scratching through his damp hair. Kento shivered at the sensation, feeling his cock leap against his thigh.

When his mouth reached your mound, you squeaked out in alarm, flipping the blankets down to see Kento, illuminated in the orange light.

"What are you-- your mouth, Kento--" Kento's eyes crinkled up at you, and two arms came to loop round the top of your thighs, pulling you down the bed towards him, your shirt being rucked up against the drag of the mattress to completely expose your glistening pussy to him.

Maintaining eye contact with you, you trembled with anticipation as Kento poked his tongue out into a point, first grazing your folds, before stroking from side to side to ease in between them. The sound that broke out from you as his tongue stroked over your clit, hot and wet, was one Kento masturbated to for years to come.

You felt as though you had been lifted from earth and dropped amongst the clouds as he licked at you, sucking, stroking, tasting, the pleasure so otherworldly compared to what your own hand could achieve, that you felt yourself being rushed towards your peak at speed.

Twisting and squirming against his mouth, you reflexively tried to pull your pussy away from Kento's attentions. His arms tightened around the tops of your thighs, growling into you, pulling you back as you tried to scoot away. Your hand tugged at his hair as you arched, whimpering, coated in a fine sweat. As Kento groaned into your cunt, you watched his hips roll and hump against the bed, the sight alone enough to send your orgasm crashing through you, and you worshipped his name in a long, keening cry.

Kento let his laps and sucks become softer, languid, letting you float through the haze of your pleasure. Nuzzling at you, tasting you as you trailed lazy blissful fingers through his hair, Kento planted soft kisses to your inner thigh.

Moving back up, stroking his nose against your neck, Kento felt your hand move down his shoulders and back, before coming round to ghost over the front of his trousers. Kento shuddered, kneeling above you to remove his shirt, skin prickling with the need to feel yours against his own.

Gazing down at you, his eyes like whiskey in the flickering light, he grazed a palm from in between your breasts, down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head in one swift tug, exposing you completely to him.

Your hand still trailed over his groin as he knelt, and you were captivated, obsessed with the shape, weight and length of his cock in your hands, blissfully unaware of what you were doing to him. As you grasped the lace at the front of his trousers, undoing it, and squeezing the head of his cock between your fingers, Kento moaned, ragged, leaning one hand sideways to support himself.

"Fuck-- I haven't-- not for so long," he moaned, low and husky, feeling your inexperienced fingers explore his cock and balls in a way that felt almost abusively naive. As your thumb glided beneath his foreskin, collecting the wetness of his pre-cum, exploring his slit, Kento hissed, panting and grabbing your hand.

You broke out of your reverie, blushing with mortification, tears pricking in your eyes as you began to apologise. Kento interrupted, shushing you, one hand still gripping your fingers around his cock, the other coming up to cup your face, his thumb swiping across your cheek.

"Not you," he huffed, stroking your cheek, smiling down at you with fevered eyes, "me, it's-- I-- I'll cum in your hand if you carry on." Your eyes glimmered, hungry to see how he looked as you pleasured him, and you moved yourself, leaning close, squeezing him again beneath his own hand, and he cried out in pleasure. You felt another drip of his arousal across your fingers, and you gulped, your tongue darting out across your lips.

As you lowered yourself to his lap, Kento's eyebrows raised in shock, and desperate awe, as you licked the weeping cockhead sticking out from your joined enclosed hands.

A low rumble ebbed through Kento, his eyes suddenly dark and hungry as he looked down at you, wordlessly using your hand inside his own, to pump the length of his cock. Feeling the intoxicating glide of soft skin over woody hardness, you let him use your hand to masturbate himself as you took the head of his cock into your mouth, licking, tasting the musty pre-cum there.

Every instinct screamed at Kento to chase his orgasm, to press your head further down his cock so he could use your little hand to jack off into your mouth, and he felt overwhelmed by the innocent licks and sucks you gave him, eyes cast upwards to see what effect they had on him. Kento moaned desperately, twisting on his haunches, fingers in turn tangling into your hair and coming away, clenching and unclenching at speed.

He felt the approaching rush of divine ecstasy, thrumming up his back in waves, his balls tightening up against the base of his cock--

Snapping, Kento pulled your hand and mouth off him, heaving you up the bed and back onto the pillows, before pinning you down with his body, panting into your neck, trying not to spill his seed over your belly. You were thrilled, ecstatic with Kento's pleasure, eager to see more of it.

You crept your hips up to his, trying to ease his cock into you. Kento huffed, his hand shooting down to press your hips down again.

"--going to kill me-- I swear-- no idea...you have no idea what you're doing to me--" Kento panted, quaking above you, one forearm planted above your head. As his peak ebbed away, Kento plaited his hand with your own again, above your head. He felt his cockhead resting against the smooth resistance of your entrance, and he suddenly felt so responsible for you.

"I don't want to hurt you," he huffed, aware he was bigger than average, but knowing from the fevered look in your eyes that he could not dissuade you-- not that he wanted to, at this point, his cock throbbing with urgent need.

"Please," you begged, "please." You felt Kento's hips press forwards into your soaking wet heat, feeling a slight sting as it met resistance. Kento rested his nose to yours, his eyes still feverish, his body still smelling of iron and ash and smoke.

"On one condition," he pressed, authoritative as his cockhead pressed deeper against your stinging resistance, breaking past thin membrane, gripping your thigh up to his hip as you trembled, biting your lip, tears in your eyes as you nodded-- anything, you thought, anything.

"Marry me," he whispered against your lips, and you squeaked as you felt a twang of pain, his cock suddenly nestled deeply inside you. Kento rocked his hips gently, shushing you, soothing you, his thumb stroking your palm. Not moving, just holding you as you adjusted to feeling so full, Kento waited for an answer.

"Y--yes...yes," you mewled, and Kento growled his approval against your neck, slowly pulling out of you before rutting back into your wet, tender pussy again, so intimate and deep that you cried out for him.

Kento rolled his hips, like a boat on the waves, whispering into you, certain he wouldn't last long; "First-- I'll cum inside you-- then I'll treat you like a queen...haaah...for the rest of my days."

You clung to Kento, lost in the ecstasy of him plowing into you, delighted by his rumbling groans in your ears, blissfully proud of being able to make such an unflappable man fall apart inside you. When his grip on your hip faltered, his shaking hand dropping to stroke quick little circles around your clit, Kento growled and bit into your neck to feel you rock your hips upwards to meet his own.

The sting almost completely eased, you felt quick pangs of pleasure, rising with every beat of your fast little heart, completely carried along by the eroticism of Kento's frantic groans and mumbles into your ear.

"My love I-- you feel so good...so good...god, I need to cum, need you to cum I-- aahhhh, fuck--" Kento felt your pussy clench around him, and he came inside you as you drank down his moans, fascinated by how they matched up with the bounding twitch of his cock, how his hips juddered into you involuntarily, how his face contorted, jaw clenched, somewhere between rage and serenity.

You were famished, starved of him, immediately desperate for more, and you felt him crumple into you, caging you in, shoulders heaving and spent. Kento chuckled as you peppered him with kisses, gripping your thighs round him and rolling him over so you lay above him, straddling him as his cock softened within you.

With his chin on his chest to look down to you, and a lazy lopsided smile across his face, Kento played idly with your hair, stroking your nose, your cheeks. He proudly fingered the beautiful necklace, resting against your breasts, squashed and plush against him.

"You meant it?" He asked, eager, concerned.

You hummed in delight, pressing a tender kiss to his chest as you nodded; "You had me at 'hello'."

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Would the anon who requested Blacksmith!Kento PLEASE STAND UP so I can credit you for breaking my brain.

4K notes · View notes

sweetbans29 · 6 months ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You were untouchable, until one summer day (based on THIS request)

Warnings: cuteness

Word Count: 4.5k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I may have done a little too much with the backstory...

You were born and raised in Iowa City. Grew up going to all the local farmers markets and participating in any and all town events. Your parents are both teachers at the University of Iowa, your mom is a business professor, and your dad is an English professor. A lot of your time was spent on campus which made you pretty known starting at a very young age.

It started when you were a little girl, your parents would bring you to lectures and you would sit in the corner and do whatever you could to keep yourself occupied. The students in your classes never minded and would often come and color with you or read with you when class was over and your parents stayed around to answer questions.

When you were in middle school you would go to campus every day after school to do homework. It would either be in your parent’s offices while they had class and/or hosted office hours or they would let you go to one of the coffee shops on campus, as long as you were with one of their trusted students. At this point, you were pretty well-known on campus by both students and faculty.

Things pretty much stayed the same when you got to high school. You never really had many friends at your own school but had so many the second you stepped foot on campus. You continued to spend most of your time there - most of it studying but sometimes going to campus events (if your parents were okay with that).

The University of Iowa had always been your fate. With both of your parents working there, it was a no-brainer that's where you would be attending school. It also helped that you knew the campus like the back of your hand and were already known. It made going to college less intimidating.

For your high school graduation - there was a group of students at Iowa that hosted a view party since they all couldn't go to your graduation. If you got more than 8 tickets, they would have been there in a heartbeat. They live-streamed it from one of the lecture halls. You didn't know at the time but it filled up with students and faculty all super proud of your accomplishment and ready to have you as an official student. After your graduation, your parents took you back to campus saying they had a surprise - it turned out to be a surprise grad party with a couple hundred people from campus. You have never felt more loved than you did that day.

When fall rolled around, you started your journey as a Hawkeye. Campus felt like home and had become home when your parents gave you the option to commute or live on campus. It was a no-brainer as it was your dream to live on campus and would try and convince your parents to let you stay overnight ever since you were in 4th grade.

Your first year goes as expected. You started to make solid friends. Everyone knew you around campus and if they didn't they for sure knew of you. You would do homework at the same on-campus coffee shops and began to venture out more as you began studying on lawns and in different places to switch up the scenery. Freshman year was everything you had hoped and more.

Going into your second year at Iowa was about the same as the first. Campus remained comfortable for you. You couldn't go anywhere without several people stopping to say hello - people thought it would be annoying but you genuinely loved talking to people. You were well-known and well-loved by pretty much everyone.

As active as you were on campus, one area you never really paid attention to was sports. Your parents never made them a priority thus you never made them one either. Another reason they kept you away from games was because of the reputation a lot of the players had around campus. Ever since you started hanging out around campus in high school - your parents made it known that you were off limits and would remain off limits. It became an unspoken word on campus.

Even with your parents, relationships were never a priority for you. Not to say it was something you didn't want because there were times that you really did long to have the same experiences as your peers. After high school though, relationships weren't even a thought. It was interesting because it wasn't like there weren't people interested, but more so there was no one that you found interesting. Seeing your parent's love, your bar was raised far higher than any college student could really commit to.

It surprises you how frequently you get asked out. It isn't weekly but you consistently have people coming up to ask you out. It unofficially became a game on campus - specifically among athletes. They would place bets on who could get you to say yes to going out with them but nobody ever availed.

You of course learned about the whole thing when one of the guys you were friends with let you know out of respect for you. He was one of the waterboys for the men's basketball team and overhead them taking bets on who could get you to say yes. John always kept an eye out for you - he was a year older than you and treated you as his little sister. He has 3 little sisters at home, as he was the oldest and the first to leave for college - watching you was a second nature to him especially since he was one of your parent's favorite students.

When John learned it was more than the basketball guys and more teams were jumping in to see who could court you, he made it a point to make sure you always felt comfortable on campus. Not that he ever doubted you, but doubted all the guys and girls trying to get in your pants.

You were sitting and waiting for John and some other friends to meet up with you when you were approached yet again.

The star of the school's water polo team approaches you while you are studying on the lawn.

"Hey," he says trying to get your attention. You finish typing out your sentence then look up at him.

"Hi," you say with a smile. "It's Erick, right?"

He flashes a smile when you know his name. "Ya, we are in the same stats class."

You nod.

"Hey, I was just wondering if you were free this Friday night? The team has a game and it would be cool it if you came. We could go grab ice cream or something after and hang out." He asks with the confidence of you knowing who he is.

You give a light smile.

"Erick, I am sure you are a nice guy," you say - knowing all too well that he was not. It was just last week that he took a cheerleader out then was caught making out with one of her teammates the next day. "But I'm just not interested."

"Good luck on your game though - should be a tough one," you say and he walks away.

John comes up catching the tail end of the encounter and gives you a look.

"Another one?" He asks as you get up from the grass.

"Yep, nothing new - he went with the 'come watch my game then we can hang out' bit. You would think they would all get the hint considering I haven't been to a single Iowa game." You say.

"They all want to be the first," John says. You laugh.

"Well jokes on them," you say as the two of you head to meet up with the rest of your group.

You get through the rest of the semester with only a few more people attempting to ask you out. You never mention it to your parents because the last thing you need is them making some big fuss about something you have a pretty good handle on.

That summer is one where things took a turn in a direction you would have never expected.

A majority of your summer was spent around town at your favorite coffee shops. They would be your favorite place to read. It was something you did every summer at the same coffee shops - so much so that they would have a reserved sign at the table you would always sit at.

It was a gloomy morning when the shop was extra busy. You had been settled in for a while now and were sucked into your book. You are used to the buzz of the coffee shop but are pulled out when you hear a loud sound.

You look up and see a frazzled girl, bending over and collecting the bag she just dropped. You set down your book and immediately help the girl. You gather some things and stand up, passing them to her.

"Thank you," she says, still flustered from how busy the coffee shop is.

"Of course," you say with a smile, hopefully easing her.

"I came here hoping to have a quiet morning not realizing how busy it was going to be. I heard this is the best place to come to work," she says.

"Well I agree that this is the best place to work - it typically isn't this busy. I think there is an event going on in town this week. If you are looking for a table, you are more than welcome to join me," you say as you sit back down.

"Thank you," she says and sits immediately. It is just after she sits when you see her relax. You introduce yourself, offering your hand to shake. She reaches out and shakes it. She knows who you are - everyone knew who you were but thought it would be better to just keep your meeting simple.

"I'm Caitlin," she says. You smile at her - also knowing who she is. She had quickly became one of the faces on campus - the 'basketball superstar'.

"It's nice to meet you," you say with a smile. "You are always welcome at my table."

She notices the 'Reserved' sign on it and laughs.

"Did they do that for you?" She asks.

"Ya," you say with a laugh. "I've been sitting here for years now."

The two of you spend the rest of the morning working independently. You locked into your book shortly after your conversation missing the stolen glances Cait would take of you.

Caitlin took you up on your offer every day for the next several weeks. She even went out and got books to read just to come and spend time with you. The two of you would chat when she first got there, then would settle in and being reading for a few hours until you both got hungry. What started as a place for Caitlin to sit turned into so much more. The two of you started getting lunch together and really getting to know one another.

It's in the final month of summer when Caitlin asks you on a proper date. You are unsure at first but remind yourself that she isn't a stranger. The two of you have genuinely gotten to know each other over the course of the summer and you trust her.

It is after that first date that you decide Caitlin is worth it but if you were to ask her when she knew you were it, she would have said that first morning in the coffee shop.

Heading back into the school year, there were subtle changes in your day-to-day. You would still be on campus to study in all of your favorite places but when it came to grabbing your mid-morning smoothie, Caitlin would be waiting outside your first class of the day - smoothie in hand, waiting to walk you to your next class. Caitlin made it a point to be a part of your morning, just like you did in the summer.

It slowly became something Caitlin's team noticed - the first one being Gabby who passed by Caitlin holding two smoothies outside of one of the lecture halls.

"Cait - what are you doing here? Isn't your next class on the other side of campus?" Gabby asks when she sees her teammate.

"Ya, just catching up with a friend," Caitlin says, hoping Gabby will go before you come out. One of the things Caitlin had learned while getting to know you was the bitter taste athletes gave you. Caitlin was slowly changing that but didn't want to give you any reason to backtrack. She also hadn't told the team that she had started seeing you over the summer and would like to keep it that way for as long as she can. Not to hide you, but she valued having you all to herself. And she knew that the second her team found out - she would lose you to them. You were too incredible.

Gabby nods but her suspicion remains.

"Whatever you say Cait," she says and continues to walk. "I'll see you at practice."

Gabby turns a corner but stays in the vicinity - wanting to see the mystery person Caitlin is waiting for.

You walk out of class and see Cait standing against a wall with two smoothies in her hands. You make your way over to her and she meets you halfway.

"Why hello there," you say with a smile. She passes you one of the smoothies.

"Your favorite," she says and you thank her.

The two of you proceed to walk to your next class, missing a hiding gabby who sees Caitlin is walking with you. Gabby can't wait to take the news back to the team. Everyone knows you are not a fan of Iowa sports but here you are walking about with one of the biggest stars on campus. She also doesn't believe that Caitlin is one to wait outside of someone's class with a drink in hand only to walk them in the opposite direction of where she is going.

Later that day Caitlin arrived at practice to find her team bombarding her with questions.

"Woah, woah, woah - what's going on?" She asks overwhelmed.

"Gabby told us who you were spotted with and we think that is the cutest thing ever," Jada says - excited for her teammate.

Caitlin feels her cheeks heat up.

"How did you swing talking to her?" Another teammate asks. "She practically hates every sports team on campus."

"She doesn't hate us - well you know the shit that goes around with teams asking her out and making bets and stuff. It's left a bad taste in her mouth. It's not like they were discrete about it anyways." Caitlin says backing you up.

"Ya but still, I mean what makes you different - Cait you are the biggest name on campus right now and it is only junior year," Sydney says.

Caitlin shrugs, opting to leave how the two of you spent the summer out of the conversation.

"Is it even like that?" Kate asks. "I mean she could just be a friend."

"A friend that Caitlin goes out of her way to get a smoothie for then walk to class?" Gabby scoffs. "No ya, sure sounds like a friend to me."

The team keeps making fun of Caitlin to which she never confirms or denies any of their allegations. The two of you had been on several dates but never really solidified what you were to each other so Caitlin didn't feel like it was proper to bring it up when the two of you really didn't even know what you are yet.

"There is no way Caitlin could pull her - I mean it's CC, can you imagine her dating at all? Let alone the campus's princess." One of the girls says in a joking manner. Caitlin knows her team means well but it sort of rubs her the wrong way when they think she isn't worth your time.

Caitlin speaks before thinking.

"What if I get her to come to a game - would you believe it then?" Caitlin asks and immediately regrets it.

"No way in hell could you get her to come to a game," Jada says. "I've heard she's never gone to a sporting event nor will go near one with a ten-foot pole."

"Ya, but if she comes, then you'll all shut up about this?" Caitlin asks hoping it will be enough to just get you to a game.

"Get her there in your jersey and we will know it's real," Gabby says.

Caitlin grumbles but agrees.

After practice, Caitlin messages you and asks to meet up. You tell her to come over and that you will be making chocolate chip cookies - you know they are her favorite. Her mom also happened to send you home with her famous recipe after Caitlin brought you home once during the summer. It was before she asked you on a date - it was actually quite spontaneous.

"Would you be up for joining me on a little trip home? I told my brothers I would be there for an event of theirs. It won't be long but I don't want to make the drive alone." Caitlin asks you at the end of one of your mornings.

"I would love to," you say and she just casually mentions she is heading there now. When you still agree to join her - she is ecstatic but hides it well.

The two of you head to her home, talking the whole way there. When you get there Caitlin goes to help her brothers and you stay with her mom, she is baking for the event. You help her make her chocolate chip cookies and tell her about yourself. She then tells you all the stories of when Caitlin was little. You couldn't help but grow fonder of the girl after hearing about her childhood.

When the two are heading out, Anne pulls you into a hug and asks you to watch over her baby girl. You smile and nod. She then proceeds to stick something in your pocket - her chocolate chip cookie recipe.

Caitlin gets to your apartment and instantly recognizes the smell of her favorite cookies. You pull them out right after she gets there.

"Are these," she begins and picks one of them up right away.

"Caitlin! You are going to burn yourself!" You swat at her hand but she is too fast for you. She takes a bite of the cookie, blowing out the hot air and trying not to burn her tongue. Once she is able to enjoy it, her eyes close and she lets out a moan.

"You like them?" You ask, already seeing her answer. She finishes the cookie before speaking.

"Just like home. How did you get these?" She asks finally opening her eyes and going for another.

"From the one and only, Mrs. Clark - told me to take care of you," you say with a smile. "And I know that the only real way to care for you is through cookies."

Caitlin looks at you in awe and her mind begins going a mile a minute. Her mom doesn't give her recipe out to anyone - she doesn't know what you did in the kitchen with her that one day but seeing as you have her full approval, Caitlin begins to seriously consider what life would be like with you.

You can see the gears turning in her head.

"Talk to me," you say to her with a little laugh. "I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears. What's going on?"

Caitlin wants to tell you how much it means to her that you made her cookies, her mom's cookies. She wants to tell you how she misses how it was just you and her like it was during the summer and wishes the two of you could go back to that. She wants to tell you how she has started talking to your parents about you and how they have unofficially given her the okay to take you on a date (she didn't tell them how she had already taken you out but that is beside the point).

"How would you feel about coming to my game this Friday?" She asks, settling on getting this out of the way first.

You stand there putting more cookies on the cookie sheet, thinking over her question.

"I know you don't go to games and how much you aren't a fan of Iowa sports, especially with all the athlete's track records with you," she is cut off by you.

"Ya but I am a fan of you," you say which earns a little chuckle. Her heart skips a beat but she continues.

"But we are playing one of our biggest rivals and I think it would be neat to have you there," she says debating on adding the part about her team. She thinks about all you have been through and decides it is better to be honest upfront.

"And my team doesn't think I can get you there," Caitlin says nervously.

You look up at her amused, kind of shocked she would think you would be open to it. But you ponder it.

"It's not a bet - you know I am not like those other guys and girls. You know that right?" She asks.

You just look at her.

"Please tell me you know I am not like them," she says beginning to panic.

"Yes, CC, I know you are not like them."

"One of them saw me waiting outside of one of your classes and started saying that you're out of my league and it irked me." She says.

"And you thought it would be a good idea to tell them that I would go to your game and what? Cheer you on? Wear your jersey?" You press her.

"Well, ya - kind of," she says shyly.

You don't know why but this whole thing should make you uneasy but it doesn't. Not one person has actually told you to your face that their team was betting on you. Caitlin sought out talking to you about it - but in her words, it wasn't a bet.

"Okay." You say and her head shoots to look at you.

"Okay?" She asks.

"Okay."

Friday comes around and you look at yourself in the mirror. You are wearing Caitlin's jersey with some black leggings. You are second-guessing your decision and want to back out but know that's not an option.

You head to the game with your friend John. Caitlin got you two tickets which you instantly asked John to join you for.

The game is intense - watching Cait on the court was mesmerizing to you. She is electric on the court and you wish you had started watching her sooner. It's easy to see why so many people love her.

The game ends and Iowa takes the win by 4.

You turn to John.

"Should I go down to her? I don't know if I should wait until she is done or what to do," you say nervous.

"Go to her - show her how proud you are of her. Be the excited girlfriend," John says with a smile.

"She's not my girlfriend," You mumble.

"Just go," he says and pushes you towards the court.

You walk down to the now-packed court looking for Cait.

When you see her, you begin making your way to her. When her eyes find yours, she lights up. When you get to her you jump into her arms and she spins you around.

"You were incredible," you whisper in her ear.

"Thank you," she says with the biggest smile.

She puts you down and the two of you just look at one another. She finally speaks.

"I like you in my jersey," she says and you blush.

"Please stop," you say and hide your face.

"You're cute," she keeps teasing you.

"Okay okay, I'm going to go now," you say and begin to walk away.

"Wait no," she says and grabs your arm. "I'll be good. I promise."

You stop walking away and turn back to her.

"Come meet my team?" She asks and you nod.

You make your way to some of her teammates as Caitlin introduces you to them. You shake all of their hands then stick to Caitlin's side.

They all try to hide how shocked they are but don't do a real great job with it.

"You all look surprised I am here," you say with a laugh.

"We are - you are sort of known for avoiding sporting events like the plague," Kate says with genuine intent.

"Well, I decided to make an exception for a special little someone," you say and pinch Caitlin's side causing her to blush. All of her teammates take note and poke fun at her.

"Why Caitlin?" Sydney asks boldly and Kate hits her. "What? I am genuinely curious - Caitlin isn't the easiest person to be around."

You laugh and smile up at Caitlin. Then shrug.

"She puts up with me," you say.

"Ya but you're the campus's sweetheart," Sydney says.

"Don't let her fool you," Caitlin jokes and you hit her arm. She puts her hands up in surrender.

"Oh you two are cute," Kate says.

"I can see now why CC was playing extra hard today," Jada says coming over.

"Okay, you are all embarrassing me," Caitlin says and excuses the two of you. The team wants to get to know you more and protests but you follow Caitlin. She leads you to the tunnel where it is not so crowded.

"They are all sweet," you say.

"If by sweet you mean embarrassing then ya, they are great," she says laughing and rubbing her forehead.

You turn to face her.

"What is your intention with me, Clark." You say boldly, catching her a little off guard.

"Well, I really enjoy spending time with you - and I like you, but everyone likes you so that is really a given," she says stringing along more little comments.

The once confident All-American, now a blabbering mess.

"Caitlin Clark," you say pulling her out of her jumble of words. "Ask me to be your girlfriend."

She stands there looking at you, takes a deep breath, and takes your hands.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" She asks, her eyes locked on yours.

Without blinking, you respond.

"No."

"What? You literally just told me to ask you," she says with protest.

You laugh and she catches on to you.

"You are unbelievable," she says.

"I may be but I'm your girlfriend now, so you are just going to have to deal with me," you say.

"Well you just said no, so it looks like I am still on the market," Caitlin says now teasing you.

"Mmhmm, sure you are," you say wrapping your arms around her neck as her arms wrap around your waist. She laughs and looks into your eyes.

"I'm going to kiss you now," you say.

She waits and you stop leaning in - she takes you in.

"Okay," she says and your lips meet hers for the first time. The first time but certainly not the last.

AN: This may be one of my favorites...ever. But my opinion doesn't matter, let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for all the love and support 🤍

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