#kirk hammett imagines

[broidobe]

𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔰

requested!

☾after moving in together, kirk can't keep his hands off you, leading to a passionate first night in your new apartment, followed by a morning filled with kisses and love☽

☾warnings: smut, lots of touching, teasing, soft dominance, passionate first-time-in-the-new-place sex, morning-after fluff, and kirk being absolutely obsessed with you☽

𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 ᡣ𐭩 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝜗𝜚 𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓱 𝓷𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼

⁎⁺˳✧༚metallica masterlist

boxes are stacked haphazardly around the apartment, half-open and spilling clothes, records, and pieces of your life together onto the floor. the place still smells new, like fresh paint and possibility, and you’re both exhausted from hauling everything up the narrow staircase. but kirk? he’s not thinking about unpacking anymore.

his hands are on you, sneaking beneath your shirt as you try to organize the mess. his lips press against your neck, warm and insistent, as he murmurs against your skin. “can’t believe we finally did it,” he breathes, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind. “feels unreal.”

you laugh, leaning into him. “you mean the apartment or us?”

“both,” he hums, lips trailing down to your shoulder. “been dreaming about this forever.”

you turn in his arms, cupping his face. his brown eyes are soft, filled with something deep, something that makes your stomach flip. “me too,” you whisper, brushing your lips over his.

that’s all the encouragement he needs. the moment your lips meet, the energy shifts—his hands tighten on your hips, pulling you against him as the kiss deepens. his tongue flicks against yours, slow but deliberate, tasting, teasing. he walks you backward until your back hits a wall, his body pressing flush against yours, heat radiating between you.

“i love you,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice low and rough. his hands roam, pushing up your shirt, fingers gliding over your bare skin. “love you so fucking much.”

your breath hitches as he lifts your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere into the mess of boxes. his mouth finds your collarbone, sucking a faint bruise there, his fingers already working on the button of your jeans. there’s something desperate in the way he touches you, like he needs to feel every inch of you right now, in this moment, in your new home together.

kirk lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the couch—because the bed is still covered in boxes, and neither of you care. he lays you down, hovering over you, his curls tickling your cheeks as he kisses you breathless. his hands slip beneath the fabric of your jeans, dragging them down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear. his eyes darken as he takes you in, licking his lips like he’s starving.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he groans, running his hands along your thighs before spreading them slightly. his fingers tease over the fabric of your panties, barely touching where you need him most. “and all mine.”

his mouth follows the path of his fingers, pressing kisses down your stomach, his warm breath sending shivers up your spine. he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties, pulling them down at a teasingly slow pace. the moment you’re bare beneath him, he doesn’t waste time—his fingers slip between your folds, groaning at how wet you already are for him.

“fuck, babe,” he whispers, his thumb circling your clit as he slides one finger inside you, then another, working you open with deliberate, slow movements. he watches your face, taking in every moan, every shudder. “feel good?”

you barely manage to nod, gripping his shoulders as he leans down to kiss you again, his fingers still moving inside you, curling just right. but he wants more—needs more. he pulls away only to shove his own jeans down, his length pressing against your thigh, hot and hard and so ready for you.

“tell me you want this,” he murmurs against your lips, rubbing himself against your slick entrance. “tell me you want me.”

“i want you,” you breathe, voice wrecked with need. “kirk, please.”

that’s all he needs. he pushes into you slowly, groaning at the tight heat around him, pausing just long enough for you to adjust before he starts moving, deep and steady. his hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he sets a rhythm, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your ear.

“fuck,” he groans, burying his face in your neck. “you feel so fucking good, baby. so perfect for me.”

his pace quickens, hips snapping against yours as pleasure builds between you both. every thrust hits just right, his body pressing you into the couch, leaving no space between you. his hands roam everywhere—gripping your thighs, your waist, sliding up to cup your breasts as he rolls his hips deeper, chasing the high that’s so close.

your nails dig into his back, moaning his name as you reach the edge, and kirk loses it, groaning against your skin as he follows right after you, spilling into you with a shuddering gasp. he stays there for a moment, catching his breath, pressing lazy kisses along your shoulder before finally pulling away, a satisfied smirk on his face.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the morning light filters through the thin curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues. your body feels pleasantly sore, your limbs heavy with satisfaction, but it’s the feather-light kisses on your face that stir you awake.

kirk is pressed against you, shirtless, his curls wild from sleep. he’s peppering kisses all over your face—your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose.

“morning, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. “first morning in our place together.”

you hum, stretching slightly as you blink up at him. “morning.”

he grins, leaning in to kiss you properly, slow and sweet. “i love you,” he whispers between kisses. “so much.” another kiss. “you’re everything to me.” another, softer this time. “can’t believe i get to wake up next to you every day.”

you cup his face, pulling him closer. “you’re so sappy in the morning,” you tease, but your heart swells at his words.

he chuckles, pressing his forehead against yours. “get used to it, babe.”

and as he kisses you again, lazy and unhurried, you realize you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ghostbustting]

hey. *sneaks in a quick Kirk fic*

╰┈➤“𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮

𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻„ ๋࣭

Kirk Hammett x Reader

Contains Smut and slight Somnophilia

I could hear birds chirping outside, a melody that usually greets me in the morning. My face scrunches up as I feel a sense of heat on my face, coming from the rays of morning sunlight that sneakily peeks through my curtains, blinding my vision as my eyes slowly flutter open.

Although my eyelids were finally lifted, my vision was still blurry and my mind wasn’t completely awake.

I could barely even remember what had happened last night, all I remember was coming back from the bar, half drunk, with Kirk, then passing out on our comfortable bed with him cuddled in my arms, tiredness was all that we feel.

The awaken state I’m in slowly gets to me as I begin to rub my eyes, trying to see the morning much more clearly, a small yawn leaving my lips.

Somehow, with that yawn, came another noise right after it. A small whimper from the back of my throat that I wasn’t conscious enough to let out on purpose.

Only then did I feel something warm and wet rubbing against my panties down there under the sheets that cover up all of my body. It took me awhile to get fully conscious to feel the ticklish hair against my thighs, or more specifically, between my thighs.

Furrowing my eyebrows in confusion, I throw the sheets off my body and find long locks of curly black hair between my thighs, a pair of pretty dark brown eyes looking up at me, tongue out and pressed against my clothed pussy.

My eyes widened, ”Kirk..? God, it’s 6 in the morning..” I grunted, rubbing my eyes as I sit up, only for my thighs to be held back by Kirk, him pulling me back down on the bed.

”5 in the morning, actually.” He corrected me with that crooked teethed grin.

I roll my eyes and try to grab his hands, to which he swatted mine away and huff, “C’monn! You don’t even have to do anything! Just— Just sit and be pretty. Pleasee?” He lay his head on my right thigh, lips slightly puckering out to press a peck on my skin.

Those dark brown eyes of his were staring up at me in the most precious way. His intentions were dirty, but the way he looked was way too cute to reject him.

After all, he had already make me wet in my sleep, my panties soaked with a mix of his saliva and my own juices.

But even if I try to mask it, he knew I was way too weak for him.

I rolled my eyes with a long sigh, "Fine."

Not even in a second, he quickly ripped my panties away from my once covered pussy, making me yelp in surprise and annoyance. "Shh. Just a panties." He shushed me.

Then, he proceeds to attach his lips onto my folds, tongue darting out to lap on my pussy like a hungry animal, sucking on me like I was a droplet of water he found in the middle of a desert.

I gasp and reach down to grab onto his hair, my fingers clutching onto those curly locks of his, pulling them every now and then while his lips makes out with my slick pussy.

His mouth went to my clit, sucking harshly on it. The sensation made me moaned and arch my back, the tug my fingers did on his hair made him grunt against my heat, the sound vibrating up into me.

"S-shit.." I whimpered out, desperately pushing his mouth against my pussy even more, my hips slowly grinding against his face while his tongue darts out yet again.

My legs were shaking, I cannot even utter out a word through my never ending moans, the only times a word would ever leave my lips successfully were either a moan of his name or a curse.

Suddenly, I could feel his tongue sliding up and down my folds, entering my hole as slowly as ever. I gasped yet again, my breathing became heavy as my chest rise up and down non stop, his mouth taking all the breath away from me down there.

"Kirk.. fuck fuck.." I mutter out, my legs moving to be placed over his shoulders while he eats me out.

He knew what he was doing too much, cause then I feel his thumb on my clit, rubbing harsh circles on it and encouraging the knot in my stomach to form and tighten.

Both of my eyes rolled to the back of my head, a louder moan leaving my lips. I wish my neighbors and the singing birdies out my windows a lovely morning, while I have my own sinful morning.

"Fuck— Fuck, I'm close.."

Small whines of curses never stopped coming out of me while I was getting more and more closer to my release.

With one last suck of my pussy from him, I moaned loudly while the knot in my stomach snapped, my release came gushing out of me and into Kirk's mouth, him sucking all the juices up desperately.

As I took deep breaths, I look down to see Kirk looking back up at me, that same crooked grin on his face as he licks up the juices left on his lips.

"Tasty. Real tasty. I'd give you a 5 star rating." He nods and press a kiss on my thigh, making me squirm just a little, senstive from my previous release.

I roll my eyes, huffing as I stroke his hair, "You little bastard."

He laughed, causing a small flutter on my stomach. I always loved his laugh, finding it cute. "Hey, gotta get my morning treat, right?" He winked.

"Whatever. Get off me." I scoffed and try to sit up before he yet again push me back down.

He tuts at me and shook his head, "Ah-ah. I'm still thirsty. Dehydration, you know?" He say with a playful tone.

Before I know it, his lips were back on my pussy, already sucking hard and lapping up and down my folds yet again. My breath hitched and as predicted, I can't help but give in to him.

I always give in to him.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Day 10: Hairpulling

A/n: Day 9 is coming, when I don't know because I have no idea what to write for food play with Axl

Warnings: Smut, soft + rough sex, hairpulling, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Kinktober

Kirk was always sweet with you. You'd been dating for a few months, he definitely wasn't against fucking you, he was just gentle.

You didn't hate it, of course not, you loved how he was with you, but that didn't stop you from being... well, you.

Kirk had your hips in his lap, hands running up and down your sides as you lay back on the, rolling his hips to meet yours in slow, deep thrusts.

"You-you're so pretty." He purred, leaning down as you reached for him. He'd already made you cum twice, now twitching inside you as he held off on his own high.

The way his fingers danced in feather-light touches over your sweat-coated skin, sensitive and achy as he teased you.

Your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "Kirk, please, faster... need it so bad..." You trailed, breathy moan falling from your lips.

"As you wish, my love." He mused, repositioning himself so he laid between your legs which you wrapped around him, pulling him closer.

He did just that, quickening his pace for you. His grunts and groans, soft moans even, fell onto your ears as he placed gentle kisses over your jaw and down your neck.

It wasn't much different to every other time you were together like this but it was just that little kick that had heat pooling in your core.

His hands rested on either side of your head, your hands moved over the expanse of his back, lightly clawing at his shoulders and accidently tugging on a few strands of his hair.

You heard a noise you'd never heard from him; a growl. Kirk, the one and only softy who had a real weird side to him, growled.

Wanting to test it out again, you reached for him, with more purpose this time. You grabbed a small handful of hair. "What-what are you-?" He was cut off by another gruff sound as you pulled on his hair. "Fuck, why would you do that?" He asked, voice much harsher than it ever had been with you.

"I-I wanted to see..." You said, breath airy. Your eyes fluttered as he continued to fuck you, movements getting faster and harsher as you tugged on his hair again. "Fuck me, Kirk." You moaned.

"I am, if you'd just stop-!" Again he was cut off by your pulling.

"Why, does it hurt?" You asked, only a little concerned.

"No, just-" He reached for your hand, holding it above your head. You just grabbed his hair in the other hand, causing a groan to rip from him, a particularly harsh snap of his hips sending jolts through you.

"Fine, you wanna play that?" He grumbled, continuing the movement, snapping his hips into yours as many times as you'd tug on his hair until the bedframe was rocking, knocking against the wall repeatedly.

Your back arched, replacing those soft moans Kirk was used to hearing from you he heard whines and cries of his name echoing off the walls, and all you did was tug his hair.

You would definitely have to do this again.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

hear me out... early 20s!reader is some really hot but reserved girl working at the studio and the tallica boys all have an eye on her but... shes kirks gf and he gets a bit jelly and takes her home ect ect🙈 possessive smut where hes a desperate and showing her why the others could never replace him. i was thinking maybe 1991 or load kirk? if not, i totally understand!! have a great day <3

Have a great day too, I hope you like it!❤

Warnings:mature themes, emotional intensity, and light possessiveness

No One Else's, Only Mine

The studio always had an energy to it, one that hummed through my body every time I stepped through the doors. Today was no different—amps buzzing faintly, the occasional clink of drumsticks against the floor, low laughter echoing down the hall. It was exhilarating and yet oddly comforting, like the calm before a storm. I adjusted my leather jacket and tucked my hair behind my ear, keeping my head down as I passed the main control room.

Being around Metallica had a way of making you feel small. Not because of anything they said or did, but because they just were so much. James with his loud, raspy jokes. Lars constantly pacing, his hands in motion like he was conducting some invisible orchestra. Jason with his easy, boyish smile. And then there was Kirk.

My Kirk.

He was leaning over his guitar, fingers idly plucking out a riff. His curls fell into his face, and his lips curved into a faint smile when he saw me lingering at the door. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft. Always soft with me, even when everything else about him was electric.

“Hey,” I murmured, stepping inside. “Need anything? Coffee? Water?”

He shook his head, setting the guitar down and crossing the room in a few long strides. Before I could blink, his hands were on my waist, pulling me close. “Just you,” he said, low enough that only I could hear.

A flush crept up my neck, but before I could respond, the door creaked open behind us.

“Y/N!” James’ voice boomed. “You’ve been holding out on us, huh? Got some secret training or what?"

I laughed, stepping out of Kirk’s grasp before anyone could make things awkward. James had this way of teasing that always felt just a little too sharp, like he wanted to see how far he could push before you snapped.

“Just lucky, I guess,” I replied, brushing past him to grab a clipboard from the counter.

His eyes lingered a beat too long, and I felt Kirk stiffen behind me. I knew the way they all looked at me. I wasn’t oblivious to the glances, the subtle comments when they thought Kirk wasn’t listening. And I wasn’t blind to how Kirk saw it all. He never said much about it, but I could feel the tension rolling off him like a storm cloud.

By the time the session wrapped up, I could tell Kirk was on edge. He hadn’t said a word since James’ latest round of jokes, and his hand was tight around mine as we left the studio.

“You okay?” I asked once we were in the car, the city lights blurring outside the window.

He glanced at me, his jaw tight. “They don’t get to look at you like that,” he muttered. “Like you’re some kind of...prize.”

I sighed, resting my hand on his thigh. “They’re just being themselves. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“I do worry about it,” he snapped, then immediately softened when he saw my expression. “Sorry. It’s just...you’re mine, Y/N. I need you to know that.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I bit my lip, trying to ignore the heat pooling in my stomach. “Take me home,” I whispered.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he didn’t say a word as he pressed down on the gas.

The door had barely closed behind us before his hands were on me, pulling me flush against his body. His lips crashed into mine, all desperate heat and raw emotion.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against my mouth, his hands slipping under my shirt to grip my hips. “Not theirs. Not anyone else’s. Just mine.”

“Kirk,” I breathed, my fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed down my neck, teeth grazing over sensitive skin.

He groaned, lifting me effortlessly and carrying me to the bedroom. The world blurred around us, and all I could focus on was the way he made me feel—claimed, adored, his.

As he laid me down, his fingers brushed over my cheek, then down to the hem of my shirt. “Let me,” he whispered, his eyes searching mine for permission. When I nodded, he tugged the fabric over my head, his hands exploring the newly exposed skin like he was memorizing every inch.

“They don’t know you like this,” he said, his voice low and thick. His lips followed the trail of his hands, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone. “They don’t know the way you taste, the way you feel when you’re falling apart for me.”

My breath hitched as he slipped his hands beneath the waistband of my jeans, his touch possessive yet tender. “They couldn’t handle this,” he continued, his mouth brushing against my ear. “The way you moan my name. The way you’re so perfect, so mine.”

His words sent heat rushing through me, and I arched into his touch, craving more. He took his time undressing me completely, his gaze never leaving mine as he peeled away the layers. It wasn’t just physical; it felt like he was baring my soul, reminding me with every touch and kiss that I belonged to him.

When he finally joined me on the bed, his hands slid up my thighs, and he hovered above me, his lips ghosting over mine. “No one else will ever love you like I do,” he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion. His hips pressed forward, and I gasped at the connection, the heat, the overwhelming sense of him claiming me completely.

“No one will ever make you feel like this,” he whispered against my lips, his breath hot and ragged. He thrust into me slowly, deliberately, each movement drawing a cry from my lips. “No one else knows how to touch you—how to worship you.”

The slow, deliberate rhythm he set made every nerve in my body light up. Each thrust made me gasp, the intensity pulling soft moans from my lips that I couldn’t contain. “Kirk,” I whimpered, my fingers digging into his shoulders, desperate to hold on to something solid as I trembled beneath him. 

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “Let me hear you. No one else will ever make you sound like this. Only me.”

His pace quickened, each thrust deeper, more deliberate, and with each movement, his voice dropped to a raw whisper against my ear. “They could never know how to make you feel like this,” he groaned. “They could never have you shaking like this, so perfect, so mine.”

A shudder rippled through me, and I clung to him, my body trembling under the weight of his passion. “Kirk,” I gasped, his name spilling from my lips like a mantra, each syllable thick with the overwhelming sensation of him. 

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. “They’ll never touch you. Never make you fall apart like this. Never make you cry my name the way you do.”

The tension coiled tighter, his movements becoming almost frantic as he chased the edge with me. Each thrust carried more emotion, more desperation, as though he was pouring every unspoken word into me. My body arched against him, trembling as the sensation became too much. 

“You’re mine,” he rasped, his voice breaking, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses along my neck, collarbone, and down to my breasts. Each touch of his lips was reverent, worshipful, as if he were marking me in ways deeper than words. “Only mine. Forever.”

The intensity built until the world around me dissolved, leaving nothing but him—his touch, his voice, his love enveloping me completely. When we finally shattered together, the release tore through me, leaving me gasping his name as my body quaked beneath him.

He held me through it, his arms wrapped around me as though he’d never let go. His forehead pressed against mine, his breaths ragged, and his voice low but full of reverence. “No one else could ever have you like this. You’re mine, Y/N.”

When it was over, he held me close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back.

“You’re everything to me, Y/N,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Don’t forget that.”

I smiled against his chest, my body humming with satisfaction. “I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. And I meant it.

[valwrites-stuff]

Do you every think like older kirk wold take care of his girl like pleasure her and make her feel safe or love or like he wold go slow for her and or idk my brain is thinking of so much 😭

Omg yes I need that 😭 I think it fits skom era Kirk best 💕

Caring touch

Kirk Hammett x Reader ☆ smut, comfort sex, oral

It had been an awful day, the worst. A day filled with mishaps, frustrations, and disappointments. From the moment I woke up, everything seemed to go wrong.

By the time I finally made it back home, I was exhausted both physically and emotionally. As I entered our bedroom to get ready for a peaceful night in, I could feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.

I kicked off my shoes and slumped down on the bed with a heavy sigh. Kirk looked at me with concern in his eyes, wondering what could have happened, that left me so drained. "What happened, love? You look like you've been through a war," he said softly, sitting down beside me.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. How could I put into words the frustration and disappointment that had plagued me from morning until night? But Kirk was always there for me, to listen and offer comfort.

So I began to recount the events of the day, letting out all the pent-up emotions that had been building inside me.

As I spoke, Kirk listened intently, his hand gently rubbing my leg in a soothing gesture. He didn't interrupt, he simply listened, letting me rant.

When I finished, telling him every detail of my miserable day, I looked up at him, feeling a mix of gratitude for his emotional support.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that," he said, his voice filled with compassion. "But I'm here now, and I want to take care of you."

Kirk leaned in closer, his warm breath caressing my cheek as he gazed into my eyes with concern. Slowly, giving me time to pull away if I wished, he closed the distance between us. His soft lips met mine in a gentle, comforting kiss.

For a brief moment, I found myself hesitating, my body tensing slightly. The events of the day still weighed heavily on my mind, making it difficult to fully surrender to the intimate gesture.

Yet as his caring eyes met mine, shimmering with unwavering devotion, something inside me shifted. A quiet voice whispered that, maybe, allowing this tender moment was exactly what my weary soul needed.

Slowly I tilted my chin up to meet him halfway. Kirk's lips brushed against mine, soft and gentle as a butterfly's wing. As our kiss deepened, the tension and stress of the day seemed to slowly melt away.

As our lips parted, Kirk's gaze remained fixed on mine, his eyes now darkened with desire, yet still brimming with deep affection. He spoke, his words a mere whisper that carried the weight of a powerful promise, "I want to make you feel better. Let me take care of you."

With a gentle hand, he reached out to caress my face, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. His touch was light, yet it sent shivers down my spine. His fingers trailed down my neck, then along my collarbone, causing me to shudder involuntarily.

Kirk began to undress me slowly, his hands moving delicately over the fabric of my clothes, peeling them off one by one until only my panties remained.

Kirk's fingers danced across my skin, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. His warm hands cupped my breasts, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks, coaxing them to harden under his touch.

Leaning down, he captured a nipple between his plump lips, suckling gently, sending jolts of pleasure through me.

His mouth trailed downward, kisses dotting a path across my stomach until he reached the waistband of my panties. With deft fingers, he slowly pulled them down. He tossed the delicate fabric aside, his heated gaze drinking in the sight of me laid bare before him.

Kirk settled between my spread legs, his breath hot against my most intimate area. His shoulders pressing against my inner thighs as he looked up at me with smoldering intensity.

Kirk's warm smile was reassuring, his dark brown eyes filled with tenderness and longing. "Just relax for me, okay?" he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

I nodded, unable to form words as I fixated on his face, my heart pounding in anticipation of the intimacy to come.

With a gentle hand, Kirk guided my thighs further apart, creating a comfortable space for himself before he lowered his head, his breath ghosting over my sensitive folds before his mouth made contact.

The first touch of his lips sent a ripple of delight through me, and I felt myself begin to melt into the mattress. Kirk's tongue darted out, tracing the contours of my sex with a feather-light caress that left me gasping.

His tongue delved deeper, exploring every hidden crevice with a sensual curiosity that drove me wild. He lapped at my clit with increasing fervor, the wet sounds of his ministrations filling the room.

My hips bucked reflexively, seeking more of his skilled attention. As he worked me into a frenzy, Kirk added a finger to the mix, sliding it into my clenching heat alongside his tongue.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, holding him close as I felt the waves of ecstasy he created. His finger pumped in time with his oral attentions, curling and twisting to hit that sweet spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyelids.

Kirk's relentless assault on my senses pushed me to the edge. The combination of his skilled tongue and probing finger proved too much for my overwrought nerves to withstand.

With a soft cry of his name, I shattered, my orgasm ripping through me like a wave. Kirk lapped at my spasming flesh, drinking in every drop of my release.

Only when the tremors subsided did he withdraw, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Oh baby, you did so well. Let me show you how much more you deserve." Rising to his feet, he began to shed his clothes, revealing his tan physique.

Kirk's naked form gleamed in the soft light as he moved towards the bed. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he climbed back onto the mattress, settling his weight atop mine.

For a few heartbeats, we simply breathed together, our chests rising and falling in sync. I could feel the heat of his skin against mine, the steady thrum of his pulse, and the way his hardness pressed insistently against my thigh.

He captured my lips in a searing kiss that stole my breath and set my pulse racing once more. Breaking the embrace, Kirk's eyes searched mine for permission, for consent as his body nestled against mine.

I wrapped my arms around him, welcoming the heat of his skin against mine, the strength of his muscles flexing beneath my fingertips as he sunk deep into my heat.

Kirk's movements were languid, unhurried, as if savoring every moment of our connection. He kissed along my neck, pausing to nibble at the sensitive spots he knew drove me wild.

Each touch was a whispered promise of pleasure and satisfaction. As he gently rocked against me, the drag of his length against my soft folds sent jolts of electricity through my body.

I arched up to meet him, desperate for more of that exquisite friction. Our bodies moved in perfect harmony, two pieces of a puzzle fitting together seamlessly.

As he picked up pace, Kirk angled himself just right, hitting that spot deep inside that had me seeing stars. I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him in even deeper, wanting to be consumed by him utterly.

Kirk's movements became more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more insistent as he listened intently to my soft moans of pleasure. Our hands intertwined above my head as I could feel the tension coiling tighter within me.

Kirk's gaze never wavered from mine, his eyes blazing with desire. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and husky. "Let me see you come apart for me."

Hearing his words and feeling his gentle but intense thrusts continue, I felt the dam break within me. A moan tore from my throat as I came, my body trembling beneath him. Waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me breathless and in bliss.

Through half-lidded eyes, I watched Kirk's face contort in delight as he found his own release. His soft groans mingled with my faint gasps and when the last tremors subsided, he leaned down, capturing my lips in a loving kiss.

Pulling back, Kirk gazed at me with an expression of profound affection, his chest still heaving with exertion. With a careful withdrawal, he settled his body beside mine, wrapping his strong arms around me in a protective embrace.

Kirk chuckled softly as he held me against his chest and pressed feather-light kisses to my forehead, my eyes meeting his as he smiled softly. "Feeling better, baby?"

I nodded, a smile playing on my lips as I snuggled closer to Kirk's warmth.

"I'm feeling much better, you always know just what I need."

The comforting weight of his arms around me chased away all the tension and worry from the day, replaced by a sense of peace and happiness in his embrace.

Pressing another tender kiss to my forehead, Kirk murmured, "Good, that's my girl." His thumb brushed lightly over my cheekbones. Our eyes locked, and in their depths, I saw only love and devotion.

[vinyldreamsfuckup]

So High School

A: this was a random thing I came up with. I hope it’s cute

Warnings: fluff, drinking, smoking weed, smut, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, Kirk x fem

You and Kirk had been together since your sophomore year of high school. You were both the "weird" kids in high school. So when you got sat next to each other in third period history it almost felt like fate. You talked to each other nearly everyday since then. You always loved how much Kirk loved his comic books and horror movies. You could listen to him go on and on for hours and never get bored of him talking. You’d been in love with him since the moment you met him. When he joined Metallica you quickly became friends with all of the guys. You’d loved watching him play and being around him. There was simply just nothing better than being with him.

Though, one thing you never did was go to prom. It felt stupid and it seemed like a dumb thing to think about, but when you looked back at pictures from high school you’d always wished you had a picture in some stupid dress standing next to him. He knew this. He hated high school dances and didn’t really care, but he knew it was important to you, so when he surprised you with a “prom” at your old high school you were over the moon. It was just you, Kirk, James, Cliff, and Lars but it was going to be perfect regardless. Because you had him.

You wore a long, mint green, satin dress. It was a corset like dress that helped extenuate your body while still trying to look nice. There were laces up the back that showed your freshly tanned skin. Kirk wore a white shirt that was only halfway buttoned and black jeans with his black converse. He never cared for school dances in high school but he knew this was important to you and he wanted to do this to surprise you. So if you could only get jeans and a nice shirt then you’d take it. It being mostly unbuttoned was just a plus. You were standing in your backyard waiting for him to walk out with your corsage.

"You look beautiful," Kirk said as he walked out of the house. A smile spread across your face.

"Thank you, baby. You don't look too bad yourself," You giggled. Kirk chuckled and grabbed the corsage and wrapped it on your wrist. James and Lars giggled as they were snapping picture after picture as the two of you got ready. Kirk leaned in, his lips touching your ear.

"We should just ditch the whole thing. I can take you to the hotel and we can have a good time," Kirk whispered. You playfully hit his shoulder.

"Pose for the damn picture," You laughed out. He rolled his eyes and put his hand around your waist and looked at the camera. The two of you smiled taking a couple nice pictures before you both broke out into silly faces. Kirk ushered me to his car and we got in.

"You sure you wanna go to the dance and not just back to the hotel?" Kirk asked as he started the car. You laughed.

"I'm sure. Now lets go try to have a good time," You responded.

That's what the two of you did. You went and danced and ate some food. You both drank and smoked weed, getting undeniably high as fuck. You talked all night long, not even worrying about anything else. James, Lars, and Cliff all brought random girls to keep them company. They were all dressed up and getting shitfaced. You couldn’t help but smile at how sweet the whole thing was, but mostly you were just focused on Kirk and how happy he made you. You grabbed his hand and lead him out into the hallway and to your old locker. He pushed you against them just like he used to and connected your lips in a feverish kiss. The taste of weed and beer still on his you.

“Can we go back to the hotel now?” Kirk mumbled against your lips, his hand traveled up the strings of your dress, grazing the skin.

“Mhm…” You mumbled back with a nod. Kirk smiled and lifted you up bridal style before running back toward his car. You giggled as he ran.

You quickly arrived at the hotel and he lead you into the room and sat you on the edge of the bed. Your heart was full everything feeling so heightened. You two had sex all the time but for some reason this felt so much more intimate. He sat next to you on the bed and carefully undid the ties of your dress. He helped you out of it before pressing his lips to yours.

“You’re beautiful,” Kirk breathed out as he pushed you down on the bed. He trailed kisses down your chest and torso. His hands hooked around the lace of your thong before carefully pulling it off. A small groan left his lips as he stared at you, “so beautiful.”

He gently kissed down your thigh before settling between your legs. He licked between your folds groaning as he did so. Your hand tangled in his hair as a moan left your lips. He started to fuck you with his tongue, his thumb rolling against your clit.

“Fuck…Kirk…” You moaned out as your hand tangled into his hair. Kirk’s tongue quickly pumped in lapping up every last molecule. He groaned as he moved feeling you spasm beneath him.

“You’re so good,” Kirk mumbled, “So wet. So good.”

Your hips bucked against his tongue. He pressed your waist down on the bed and started to move his tongue quickly. His thumb spreading up against your clit. You were soon moaning out and finishing all over his tongue. He licked up your slick before standing up.

Your hands went to his shirt and quickly undid the rest of the buttons while he pulled himself out of his jeans. He was now standing in front of you naked, his dick standing tall and ready for you. He quickly pushed into you a loud moan leaving your lips as you adjusted.

“You’re so beautiful.” He groaned, “you’re so fucking wet.”

His hips started to rock and long moans left your mouth. Your hands gripped his back and your nails slowly raked down his back. He moaned out in a mix of pleasure and pain. He slowly picked up his pace ramming into you harder. He picked up your thigh and he lit by his stomach adjusting the angle. He fell in deeper hitting every spot perfectly.

“Kirk…oh my god,” you moaned out.

“That’s it, baby,” Kirk breathed out. He moved slightly faster.

“Don’t stop. That’s it. Yes…” you moaned out. He nodded and kept his pace ramming into you over and over. Your body started to shake and you loudly came, his name falling from your mouth

“Fuck…” Kirk groaned out. His hips still moving quickly chasing his orgasm. Your moans turned into loud whimpers as he kept going. Overstimulated and sensitive as he kept moving against you.

“Come on baby,” you whined. His head fell back and a loud moan left his mouth. He pulled out and came all over your stomach.

“Fuck…” Kirk said breathlessly. You nodded in agreement.

“Was this a good prom night?” Kirk chuckled out as he pulled away for a moment.

You nodded and smiled, “wouldn’t imagine it any other way, my love.”

[sourbites]

Okay this might be a bit of a reach. But maybe a smut with Kirk. Like enemies to lovers kinda thing. Kinda catches you outside a party smoking a joint crying over some average asshole. Maybe a little argument. Sorta kinda like I hate you so much I wanna shut you up in a sensual kinda way. 🥲

Licking Wounds

sorry it took so long to get to this request! also if this piece lowkey sucks, i am sorry in advance. still kind of sick..... BUT ANYWAY! i pictured kirk somewhere around load era where he (arguably) acted the meanest because he's such a sweetheart i can't imagine him ever beefing enough with someone to be actual enemies. so he's just a bit of a dick. enjoy!

The flux of song lyrics and honey-whispered words swim in your head until it feels like you're being held underwater, Poseidon's hostage. Your ears even do that prickly thing like there's fluid trying to creep inside your eardrums. The fire and rage that fuelled you to storm outside has quickly tanked into nothingness. You're just an empty engine rattling around on fumes of what was. Fuck him.

Seriously. Fuck him. Who invites someone for a date and then acts like — like that with the nearest girl?

You find solitude in the quiet amber night, hidden and tucked into shadows outside the side alley of the bar. The brick wall is cool and unyielding against your skull, your head seeking the stability it brings. The picture of him is burned into your memory like you left your TV on pause for too long. His hip bumping hers, her nails dragging down his neck as he leans in to hear her better. You can still hear the speakers playing songs from inside— a song they're probably dancing to, no doubt.

"Party's inside," You turn your head. Kirk's leaning against the brick wall, grinning at you all smugly. Little fucker. The white scleras of his eyes are blindingly bright against the inky blackness of the night. It's a stark contrast to the lightless browns of his irises. You feel like his gaze is tunnelling holes through you. It's lukewarm out — everything simmers with heat from the September day's sweltering sun.

"Exactly why I'm outside." You sass him back. With shaky hands, you fish out a half-crumpled cigarette. It'll have to do. Patting your pockets again, you find nothing but the cherry on top of a foul night. No lighter. Perfect. Sighing, trying not to cry like a baby outside a bar, you swipe a hand over your face. Hopefully, your mascara isn't too smudged. Whatever.

Kirk throws his hands up out of his pockets in mock surrender. You can tell he's mocking you because of that stupid fucking smile on his full lips. Jerk. The streetlights stream down onto him more than you (because you're tucked snugly into the side alley), his skin glistening gold at the edges in the warm light.

Before you can suck in another breath to verbally take out your awful day on to him, he slinks over to you with this casual slyness. He tucks the end of a joint between your lips and lights it for you. "Loosen up, would'ya?"

"Fucking don't," You tell him, leaning against the wall does nothing to stop you from tilting inwards in red-hot embarrassment and shame. You should've known not to go on a date with that jerk. You always told yourself you'd never be the type of broad to weep over some limp-dicked man. God, you wish you could go back in time and handcuff yourself to your radiator before you stepped outside to meet him. Your reason should've butted in sooner— no one likes captain hindsight.

Kirk just laughs off your nasty drunkenness. He tucks his lighter back in his pocket after lighting his own joint (he got the lighter to burn on the first try— twice. Show off). The lonely flame lapped at the shadows of his face, glinted off of his labret piercing. He looks stupid with that fucking spike. Well, he looks ridiculous anyway.

Still smiling like he's some cherub, he glances at you, "Christ, you're good company. No wonder your date's chatting up some other girl."

Usually, you'd be biting his head off for even daring to speak to you like that. But this is the seventh time this has happened. Or maybe eighth? You don't understand what's wrong with him. Or is it you? This was the hundredth time he's glanced away from you. You've tried everything: mimicking the girls that strike him, icing him out, doing everything he likes, anything you can think of to salvage your relationship. But the truth is, he takes his eyes off you so damn easily. And you're done pretending to be blind.

You laugh humourlessly, exhaling smoke into the stagnant night. It lurks and lingers around you for a few moments longer than usual before it just dissipates into nothingness. The joint does little to soothe you. It only seeps into your blood, your flesh. You need this smoke to cradle your bones, to kiss away the neurons that won't stop making you think.

It seems Kirk doesn't like you silent; because he looks down to scuff the soles of his shoes on the rain-saturated asphalt, kicking around discarded cigarette butts and the glass of long-ago smashed beer bottles. "Listen, about Mi—"

"I don't want to talk about him." You grumble.

Honestly, you don't even want to talk to Kirk. You haven't got the foggiest clue as to why he's even here, bothering you like some fly in your ear. He seems more than eager to go back in and enjoy the party.

"Well, what if I do? What're you going to do, go back inside? Be my guest, you'll see him with his tongue down some other skank's throat." He's way too happy to tell you that. Fucking hell, that's a bit harsh. You swallow the ugly dirtiness you feel and push down that despair that sticks to the insides of your mouth like paper. Why is being loved so hard?

"Why are you even here?" You give him the meanest glare you can muster right now. With sticky eyelashes and a queasy stomach, it's probably more similar to a blank stare.

Kirk shrugs, looking down at his shoes. His voice is uncharacteristically soft, maybe raspy from the smoke, as he rumbles out a gently dismissive, "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, so you can get in my business, but I can't get in yours?" You raise an inquisitive brow.

"Uh, yeah, considering I'm not the one blubbering over the same asshole every time I go out. You make your business everyone else's problem, so don't get so surprised when everyone knows that he fucks other girls." Wow. You work your mouth, blinking, stupefied. You see the blurry outlines of your silhouette staring back at you in a dim puddle in the ground.

You push yourself off the wall and turn your back on Kirk. You hear him scoff in disbelief from behind you as you re-enter the bar. The atmosphere inside is thick, suffocating you straight down to hell with sweat, booze, and cheap jasmine perfume. You don't know why you're back inside. It just seemed - at the time - a better alternative than getting an earful from Kirk. Maybe you can convince the bartender to call you a taxi, considering your phone's dead.

You pull yourself up to the polished wooden bar and quickly recoil your hands once you feel how disgustingly sticky it is. You scan for the guy working behind the bar, but all you see is your idiot fucking date doing his usual tricks to get a girl to go home with him. Maybe it's the weed, maybe you're seeing in better picture, but as you watch him smoothing his warm hands down her arms, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear, you don't feel the usual agony. Okay, sure, it's a little embarrassing considering the patrons saw you with him dancing only a mere twenty minutes ago, but they're drunk, and you bet their picture of you is already beginning to fade.

Huh.

The cool outside air takes that weight clean off your shoulders. "Oh, got bored already?" Kirk calls to you once he sees your figure nearing him.

"Something like that." You take a big inhale of your joint (for luck, not courage) and step real close to him. His scent hits you like a brick wall, all boozy and that rigid tobacoo scent. You hear him murmur out a smooth whoa under his breath.

"Why are you still here? Really." You inquire. Without a hint of shyness, you sauntered into his bubble of space like you owned the place. But now you're here, you don't want to be so commanding and kill the intimacy of proximity.

Kirk lays a hand on your side. His body heat seeps through your shirt. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't like the song they're playing?"

"No song runs for, like, twelve minutes." You point out through hushed giggles. You don't feel loopy from the weed. Is Kirk genuinely amusing?

"Dogs," He hums automatically, brushing away the hair from your forehead with the back of his hand. There are a few rings decorating his fingers that bite your skin upon contact.

"...What?"

"Pink Floyd— the song Dogs," Kirk expands, wetting his lower lip with his tongue. His huge, dark eyes drop to your mouth. "That song runs for, I think... fifteen minutes?"

You can't help but genuinely laugh at him. "Fuck, you're a nerd." You sigh, still grinning. "But seriously, why did you follow me out here?"

Kirk's eyes narrow— just a smidge. "What do you want to hear me say? I saw you run out like a fuckin' kid, and I felt it was my duty to comfort you. Don't be such a goddamn princess, alright? Just drop it."

You don't wriggle out from his touch. Nothing seems that serious anymore. You hum thoughtfully, brushing the pad of your thumb against his chin. You wonder if that piercing hurt. If it was planned. If he cried. "You're a dick." You say it so casually - so easily - that it doesn't even hit like an insult.

You're both just standing there, orbiting each other. It's cooler than anticipated outside; the lightbulbs in the streetlamps are long overdue for a change. They buzz overhead. The scenery lacks the colour of daylight or artificial light like the ones inside the bar. Maybe this near-monochromatic world brings more clarity than the exciting hubbub of passionate reds and the flair of a coddling yellow.

"You don't actually like him, do you?" Kirk's voice is ghostly quiet; you barely hear it. You wish it would haunt you. Through the virile streams of muggy grey smoke, you watch Kirk's facial expression. Mostly, you just watch the smoke in front of you, trying to see words or images within the steady flow of dead, grey air.

Albeit petulantly, you shrug your shoulders. "I dunno. Not recently." Your voice is awkward, mumbling around the edges of the joint Kirk gave you.

It's so difficult to get the cage of your mouth open sometimes. You don't want to talk about how bad you feel, how lonely, how upset you get at night. Your tongue sits in your jaw like a rock, like a dying star weighing you down on the gritty floor. Is it a crime to simply want to be adored?

"I watched you," Kirk clears his throat, avoiding your sad eyes. "On the dance floor. You looked good. Happy. You didn't like him then?"

You shake your head, flicking the smouldering end of the joint into a stagnant puddle of rainwater. "I liked dancing. I like being with someone, just not him anymore. I..." You roll the words around in your mouth. You haven't even been brave enough to write this in your diary, and here you are, about to confide in Kirk— the asshole of the century.

"To be honest with you, Kirk, I'm not really surprised anymore. I know he doesn't actually like me. I just... it beats being alone."

"So you'd hang out with any fucker so long as it's company?" He raises his brows at you. One hand is in his pocket.

Without waiting for you to respond, Kirk scoops your hips into his hands and steers you against the chilly brick wall. You should resist. You honestly should. But you're drunk (tipsy, you'd insist to anyone who dared to point out your warm face and slanted gait) and high and hollow and so loudly lonely. He gives you his shoulder to lay your head on; your hands slide under his leather jacket, enveloping them in heat. Not radiator heat or hot bath heat— human heat. The real deal.

His mouth tastes like warm tequila. Toasty, smooth tequila that sinks down your throat almost. Such a peaceful mouth, free of the brambled insults it hurls at you. You're led closer to him, tethered to this rope that is his full pink lips. Kirk's fingertips sink into your ass; it sets your wayward heart roiling with newfound contempt for him, and yet you sigh into his kiss, wanting to consume his every earthy-tequila breath and bandage it around your shuddering skin.

Your whole body rattles with tiny electric pulses that rise like steam to fog up your brain that's too thick to see through. Everything is Kirk. You barely register that a song is flowing out of the bar and into your swirling head. I Wanna Be Adored, but it's being covered by some cool, angsty chick.

Both your faces pull away from the kiss. The spell's not broken, though. The moment, the heat, it all lingers... neither of you want to give it up for a memory just yet. Your mouth tingles with the phantom heat of Kirk's lips against you. With jellified muscles, the back of your skull slowly sinks into the brick wall as best as it can. Kirk's mouth is on you again, on your pulse, trailing quick, flighty kisses around the collar of your shirt.

"You done whining about your boyfriend now?" Kirk mutters, in between pressing his teeth into your shoulder, capturing your skin and tugging down your shirt until the fabric warps. Greedy. Saying anything smart will ruin the magic, so you just dig your nails into the nape of his neck, relishing in the way he pours a groan onto you.

Goosebump-inducingly hot hands slide up your side, planting you in place. You wonder if Kirk can read your thoughts— if he's purposefully coaxing you away from nurturing any rational thought that would butt in with a: 'Whoa there, girlfriend!'

The spiked jewellery of his labret piercing digs into your skin. You hiss. The little fucker laughs at you. How Kirk makes you feel - like you're in some artsy film, where everyone else fizzes into the background, and all your lines are witty - it doesn't mesh well with his blunt personality. You feel like you shouldn't ever pull yourself away from him. He slyly bumps his hips into yours; his hand travels south to your thigh, coaxing it up to hook around his waist.

"I wanna be adooored..."

The singer's distant voice haunts you through layers of brick and mortar. Kirk's tongue laps over a teeth-shaped ring on your neck. You keen into him, your flesh is irritated by him, and yet the only medicine for you is him. He's pressing against you like you press your hands into your eyes to stop yourself from crying. Your palms burn, his mouth feels like the start of forever and simultaneously feels like the final nail in your coffin. Would he listen if you whispered your sorrows to him?

In the corner of your eye, before everything that isn't your spotlight on Kirk fades away, the cheap neon sign lights bleed into the puddles on the pavement.

"You want to make him jealous?" Kirk noses into your ear, skirting his fingertips around your hips restlessly. You know what he's alluding to. Does it always have to be about him? Why can't this just be for you?

Cementing yourself to the moment, you rest your arms on Kirk's shoulders and lock them together, letting his worn-smooth leather jacket meld into your skin. "No. I just want to feel good."

Satisfied, Kirk purrs, "I can do that," into the shell of your ear— before kissing the cartilage and grabbing an eager fistful of your ass.

He looks up at you from his resting place on your shoulder. Enormous brown eyes framed by thick, long eyelashes. Desire rolls around in your belly. You feel tethered to him. Fucking him would be like fucking a concept, a piece of art— though you do want him. Terribly so.

Kirk's stronger than he looks when he gets your legs fully around him, your panties to the side. His hard, aching cock is propped up on the waistband of his jeans that he's had to inch down his hips. The unattractive buzz of neon lights and old streetlamps still lingers around, like a wasteland where made-of-flesh cicadas have been replaced by synthetically monotonous, perverse humming. He uses two of his fingers to coax you open, slicked up with his spit and your own wetness. The heel of his palm pushes into your throbbing clit. You shudder around him.

Once your common sense washes over you, and the smell of Kirk no longer blinds you, you're sure to feel shame that you've taken the world's most annoying man's dick right outside a bar. But right now, all you know is Kirk's thick fingers curling within you so deep, your knees locked around him, and his mouth sucking bruises into your ribs.

The song hits the instrumental bridge. It just rattles in your head. Then Kirk fills out the rest. Between the beats, there's him.

You use all the breath in your chest to power out a muffled moan into his collarbone. Kirk replaced his fingers with his cock— and fuck, is it an upgrade. You didn't realise your eyes were closed in cock-drunkenness until you felt your lashes against your warm cheeks. Kirk presses into you; all the way to the base of his cock, where his happy trail is dirtied by your overeager cunt, smearing the arousal that leaks out of you onto him.

Kirk was never on your lists of goals or dreams or lovers, and here he is, giving you the best fuck of your life. He's got a palm on the wall, cushioning your head, the other securing you around him with his hand cupping your thigh. You know next time you're in the shower, you'll find his fingertipped bruises on the backs of your thighs with your own fingers, and you know all the sweltering heat from tonight will come shooting back to you. All it will take is a touch, a memory. In the words of Virgil: smooth the descent, and easy is the way.

It's a lot of bumping, it's a lot of filthy mouths saying filthy things. Your skin is burning— you cling to him desperately, shoving your nose into his neck until you can almost smell the iron in his blood. His golden skin makes your mouth water— just a hard-edged jawline and glittering jewellery that commands attention like the sun at noon. Other men (like the one in the bar, oblivious to the fantastic night you've having) before Kirk have bumbled and fumbled around your body and searched within you blindfolded, wholly missing the mark when it comes to pleasing you. But Kirk? He's a fucking mind reader. If you think deeper, he's lewdly swinging his hips until they piston into your cervix with so much zeal that you think you're going to faint and tear his skin open with how evilly you're clawing at his arms. If you think slower, you can hear the pornographic squelches of your sopping wet cunt; can feel every single atom of his wonderfully skilled cock reaming you open.

The song's outro swirls in your head. Like a siren's spell, working hand-in-hand with Kirk to keep you hypnotised.

"You adore me... (I wanna).... You adore me.... (I wanna....)"

You don't care. You don't care about anything. When he's inside you, it feels so good it hurts. It chases away any cold-lipped loneliness. It's all just Kirk, Kirk, Kirk. He crushes his mouth onto yours. His spiked labret jewellery rests against your skin, vaguely threatening. No matter those Bambi eyes, he'll never be soft. Never be yours. He's practically lunging his hungry cock within you. There's no doubt in your mind that your tailbone is going to be sore tomorrow— you can already feel the pattern of bruises lined up your skin where Kirk grasped and clutched at you and dug in his blunt nails.

Even though you still feel hollowed out, you feel your organs rattling within you, your eyes unfocused yet still trained on him, stupefied by how impressive his performance is. You arch against him, crying out against his palm. He shushes you, grinning. He's grinding his hips into yours as if he's trying to fucking pave his way within you for his return, so he knows his way around.

"Fuckin' gorgeous," Kirk hisses, groping more bruises into your thigh, sucking at the base of your neck. "Gorgeous girl. Gorgeous pussy." He exhales, his breath fanning across the circles of his spit on your neck.

You take a hand and curl your fingers into his palm, the one plastered on your mouth to silence you. You're not sure why you do it. Maybe you just want to hold a part of him.

"S' funny," Kirk laughs, all velvety-smooth in a way that has your insides fluttering around him. "That fuckin' idiot in there... missing out on you," He groans.

"It's me who makes you moan like this - gets you so wet - me who gets to ruin your pussy for anyone else. You're mine, baby—"

"Kirk," You warn noisily into his hand. Then a moan quickly stumbles out around his palm. He grins smugly against your neck.

You grab onto him for dear life. He's a sight: deliriously hot and cocky as he splits you in two against a brick wall (that's probably scraping up his hand that's acting as your cushion). His ploughing slows into a sloppy glide, subjecting your ears to the embarrassing squelch of your bodies joining together. The stars in your eyes are lit. Kirk needed to see it, even if he's never been one for stargazing. The back of your neck is boiling hot; your hair is sticking to your forehead— most of your skin is dampened by sweat or slick. He's panting into your skin, hips finally stuttering against your pelvis. Brittle cries live and die in the back of your throat. His cock swells and fills you to the brim as you soak him to the bone. Your eyes roll so far back in your head that you almost catch a glimpse of your brain. Frenzied, your cunt pulses around him, your abdomen pulled taut.

You almost slide down the entire length of the wall once Kirk gingerly untangles your limbs. Your muscles ache, jellified, so dazed with that love potion he had you gulping down. You gasp big mouthfuls of air. You can taste the salt of sweaty skin and the muggy city on your tongue. The insides of your thighs are uncomfortably sticky.

Kirk cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses your brow. You've tasted the good and the bad in him— and you want them both.

"You're done griping now, I hope." He murmurs into your temple. What a fucking jerk.

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

i'll write for the top four highest voted!

[r0syr3a]

Blue fingertips

Kirk Hammett x Reader

Words: 548

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Swearing

Requested by: @luvdenj

Author note: I apologize for disappering and this taking forever to come out, but I hope you guys enjoy.

Kirk was lying on his side at the head of your bed as he wrote in his notebook, as you were sitting at the foot of your bed, watching him. He never let you see his writing until it was finished, but you kept trying to take quick peeks. He noticed your head slightly inching towards his notebook before moving it to face his chest.

"You know the rules, darling. No reading-"

"Until it's done. I know, I know." You cut him off and he laughed.

"Why don't you turn on some music? It's too quiet in here." Kirk asked. You nodded before walking over to your collection of records. You grabbed your copy of "Fear of Music" by Talking Heads and started to play it.

"I don't think I played this one for you yet." You stated as you sat back up on the bed.

"It's no Black Sabbath, but it isn't horrible." Kirk joked at you as he started to write again. You laid down, your head on his legs and your own legs hanging off the edge of your bed.

"Can I at least know what you're writing about? Like what's the inspiration?" You turned your head to look at him and he smiled at you.

"How about I tell you the title? Hmm?" You quickly nodded your head in response.

"Just know, this is not gonna be a Metallica song. This is just gonna be for us." Kirk looked down at you with a smile.

"I don't mind, I just want to know." You whined and he chuckled at you.

"Warm Heart, Cold Skin." He looked down at his notebook again. "Inspired by the most beautiful girl I know. She's always cold to touch but she's the warmest person I know." He slowly turned his face back to yours.

Kirk had asked you out about two months prior and the most common thing he said about you was how old your hands and feet were.

Your face heated up and a smile appeared on your lips. "And who would that be?" You asked, trying to get more information out of him.

He sat up slightly and put a hand over yours. "You're cold again." Was all he said before his eyes went slightly wide and he whispered to himself. "Oh shit."

You look down at your hand and notice the blue fingerprints on the top of your hand before turning to look up at him and bursting out laughing. "Your pen exploded!"

He immediately stood up and went to wash his hands. Thankfully, the only thing that got ink on it was just Kirk. The notebook and bedspreads were in the clear.

"I am so sorry, I didn't notice-" Kirk started to say as he walked in but you quickly cut him off

"It's okay, nothing got stained." You stood up and walked towards him. "My sheets and your notebook are fine, your hands are another story." You giggled as you grabbed his hands. "Blue Boy."

He wrapped his arms around your waist. "Blue Boy and his Little Snowflake." He held you close to his chest and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

You both just stood there for a few moments, wrapped in each other.

"Can you show me the song now?"

[broidobe]

𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤

requested by @dessinoir

☾in the midst of metallica’s kill ‘em all era, you and kirk navigate the intensity of young love, stolen moments on the road, and the tenderness of a relationship that feels like home☽

☾warnings: mild language, slight suggestiveness, lots of fluff, and a hint of spice☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚metallica masterlist

you swayed slightly on your feet, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall of the tiny backstage room. the air was thick with cigarette smoke, the scent of cheap beer lingering in the humid space. the show had been electric, the kind of performance that left a ringing in your ears and a thrumming in your chest. but the only thing that mattered to you right now was the man standing a few feet away, tuning his guitar with expert precision.

kirk.

he was completely in his element, dark curls falling into his face as he bit his lip in concentration. you smiled to yourself, pushing off the wall and making your way toward him.

“still playing around with that thing?” you teased, reaching out to brush a stray curl from his eyes.

he glanced up at you, eyes softening instantly. “hey, i gotta keep up with james somehow,” he chuckled, resting the guitar against the couch before pulling you into him. his arms slid around your waist, hands settling on your hips as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “you were watching me?”

“always,” you murmured, tracing slow circles on the back of his neck. “you look really good up there, you know?”

kirk grinned, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “yeah? i think you just like seeing me all sweaty.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “shut up.”

he laughed before pressing his lips to yours, slow and sweet, like he had all the time in the world. it didn’t matter that the rest of the band was probably off somewhere raising hell or that the venue crew was packing up. right now, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in the quiet intimacy that came with being in love.

“you staying with me tonight?” he asked softly, forehead resting against yours.

you smiled, fingertips trailing down his jaw. “where else would i be?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the motel was nothing glamorous—just another stop on an endless tour—but it didn’t matter. kirk had you tucked into his side, his arm draped lazily over your waist as the faint hum of late-night television filled the room. he was always like this after shows, mellow and affectionate, fingers tracing absent patterns on your skin.

“i ever tell you how much i love you?” he murmured sleepily against your shoulder.

“all the time,” you whispered back, running a hand through his curls.

“good. ‘cause it’s true.”

you pressed a kiss to his forehead, heart full.

kirk hammett might have been a rockstar to the world, but to you?

he was just the boy who loved you.

[rockmetalbabe]

IMAGINA → METALLICA : KIRK HAMMETT

Imagina que las guitarras, al igual que los cuerpos humanos, vienen en distintos tamaños y formas, haciendo que Kirk se detenga al ver una que le recuerda a ti.

GIF: theloadera-deactivated20160104 ‧ masterlist

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Day 16: Stockings

Warnings: Smut, fingering (f receiving), public sex, stocking kink, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Kinktober

Kirk was always buying you stuff, he just loved to spoil you and for a long time that's all you thought it was, but then it took a turn.

He kept buying you stockings, long, thin socks with matching garters. You weren't to leave the house wearing them unless he was with you, even then they were only for special occasions and would always end with him fingering you under the table or fucking in a closet somewhere.

There was a business meeting, something you weren't quite sure what it was about but Kirk had asked you to come since James and Lars were also bringing their partners and wanted to make Jason jealous.

Jason didn't care but it didn't stop Kirk from running his fingers up your dress, pushing it up higher than he should've.

You swatted at his hand and leaned to whisper in his ear. "Kirk, you're gonna get caught."

"Don't worry about it." He said quietly in return, sneaking his hand fully under your dress, covering your lap with the table cloth. He pushed your panties aside, gathering your wetness on his finger before pushing it into you, moving at a slow pace to drive you crazy.

You just had to sit there and act like everything was ok, but it was so hard when he felt so good curling against your gummy walls. You could feel that knot building in your gut, getting ready to burst at an instant. You couldn't have that happen, Kirk wouldn't make you do go through with it, it was just too mean; besides, he had other plans for you.

Kirk pulled his hand away from you, wiping his fingers on your thigh before setting his utensils and napkin on his half finished plate, your almost untouched dish next to it. "Sorry to leave so soon, we, uh, have something else to get to." Kirk said innocently.

"Oh, yeah?" James asked, he'd seen those faces you made, how you twitched, he sat directly across from you and knew what Kirk was doing to you under the table. "Can't even stay for desert? I mean, Y/n has barely touched her food."

Kirk urged you out of your seat as you brushed your dress down, trying desperately to fix yourself up before walking through a restaurant.

He said a quick thanks before guiding you back to his car. Well, that's where he told everyone you were going. He took you to the bathroom and pushed you into a stall in the men's room before getting on his knees in front of you.

He pushed your dress up and ran his hands up and down your legs, feeling the fabric of your stalking under the calloused pads of his fingers as he kissed your exposed thighs, nipping at the lacy garter.

He pulled your panties down and pushed his fingers back into you, moving them at a much faster pace now as he continued to kiss and bite your thighs, paying more attention to wear your flesh pooled out the top, squished by the tight fabric.

It didn't take long before you felt that rush of heat coming again, this time Kirk didn't stop, letting your ride it out on his fingers and not trying to silence you, even in the publicity of the bathroom.

He gave your thigh a last kiss before looking up at you. "We don't have to stop." He said. "Do you want to go home and finish?" You'd barely caught your breath but you were desperate for more, you could see how hard he was through his jeans.

"Please." You said breathlessly as he stood up and led you out of the bathroom.

As soon as you were out the door someone caught your wrist and you around to see James. "Really?" He smiled down at you as Kirk came to your side, his arm going around your waist. "Have you no shame?" He teased.

"What can I say, I can't resist her." Kirk replied, kissing your cheek.

James rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, well, try a little harder next time, these meetings are important."

"Are they really?" You asked, looking to Kirk with a small pout.

"No, but fucking under the table isn't great." James said, smacking your ass as he walked past you. Kirk shot him a look that he didn't see.

You were definitely in for it when you got back home

[nausicaamusiclover20]

been thinking about kirk taking freaders virginity, really praising her and everything because shes rather shy n stuff🙈 take care!

I hope you like it!❤

Warnings: mature themes,first-time intimacy,vulnerability and emotional tension,nervousness and hesitation,consent and reassurance,physical intimacy

Trusting him

Kirk’s hands rested gently on my waist, warm against my skin. His touch was slow, as though he was giving me the space to decide what I needed. But the closer he got, the more I could feel his body against mine, and it stirred something inside me—something I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I shifted slightly, feeling the pressure of him against my thigh. It startled me for a moment, and I pulled back, my heart racing.

“I... I don’t know, Kirk,” I said, my voice shaky. “I’ve never done this before. I’m scared.”

He stopped immediately, his expression serious but calm. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady. “I’ll be gentle. If it hurts too much, just give me a sign. You can tap my shoulder, or say stop—I’ll listen. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

His words weren’t overly sweet or soft—they were just firm and understanding. It made me feel more in control, like I wasn’t being rushed into anything. His hands remained on my waist, giving me the space to decide.

I hesitated for a moment, my chest tight with nerves, but then I nodded. “Okay,” I whispered. “I trust you.”

Kirk’s lips pressed softly to mine, warm and unhurried, his hands cradling my face. My heart was racing, a mix of nervous energy and anticipation thrumming through me. His thumb brushed my cheek as he deepened the kiss, his touch grounding me.

His hands slipped to the hem of my shirt, and he paused, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice steady and full of care.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. I wasn’t scared—just overwhelmed by the intimacy and the trust I felt in him.

He smiled, a small but reassuring expression, before lifting the fabric slowly. His fingers skimmed along my sides as he removed it, his touch warm and gentle. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over me with an awe that made my cheeks flush. The way he looked at me, like I was the only person who mattered, eased some of my nervousness.

As he guided me to lie back, he hovered over me, his weight supported by his forearms. His knee brushed between my legs, and I shifted instinctively to give him space. His movements were slow, deliberate, and when he settled between my thighs, the closeness made my breath hitch.

He kissed my forehead, his lips soft and lingering. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, his voice low.

I nodded, my fingers curling lightly around his shoulders. “I’m okay,” I said quietly, though my chest felt tight with nerves.

He moved carefully, positioning himself and pressing lightly against me. The first sensation made me stiffen, my body reacting to the unfamiliar pressure. The discomfort was sharp, and I let out a small sound before biting my lip to keep quiet.

Kirk stopped immediately, his brows furrowing as he looked down at me. “Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“A little,” I admitted, embarrassed but wanting to be honest. “It’s okay. Keep going.”

His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing gently over my skin. “We can stop anytime, Y/N,” he said firmly. “You’re in control.”

I shook my head. “I want to. Just... go slow.”

He nodded, his gaze softening. “We’ll go slow,” he promised, his voice steady and calm. He moved again, inch by inch, his eyes watching me carefully for any sign of discomfort. The pressure lingered, and I couldn’t help the small wince that crossed my face.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his lips pressing soft kisses to my temple and jaw. “Just breathe, Y/N. I’ve got you.”

After a few moments, the sharpness began to ease, and I exhaled a shaky breath, the tension in my body starting to melt away. The discomfort dulled, replaced by a new warmth that spread through me. When I let out a small, unintentional sigh, he paused, his forehead resting lightly against mine.

“Better?” he asked softly, his voice full of care.

“Yeah,” I whispered, feeling a flicker of something unfamiliar but pleasant. “It’s better.”

His lips brushed mine again, tender and slow. “You let me know if you want me to stop,” he reminded me.

“I will,” I said, my voice more certain now. “You can go a little faster.”

His eyes searched mine for a moment before he smiled faintly. “Okay,” he said, kissing me deeply. He adjusted his pace, his movements still gentle but more fluid, and I gasped softly as the sensations shifted again.

The warmth grew into something more intense, a pleasure I hadn’t expected. I let out a soft moan, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Kirk’s expression changed, his eyes darkening with emotion. “Hearing you like that,” he murmured, his voice thick. “You’re amazing, Y/N. So perfect.”

His hands held my hips, steadying me as he moved, his lips finding mine again and again. The rhythm built slowly, and I found myself clinging to him, my hands gripping his shoulders as quiet sounds spilled from my lips. He kissed along my neck, his words a constant stream of praise and reassurance. “You’re incredible,” he whispered. “So good for me.”

As we reached the end, the world seemed to blur into a haze of warmth and connection. Kirk stilled above me, his breath ragged, and I felt my body relax completely as a wave of calm washed over me. He leaned down, kissing me deeply, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face.

When he pulled away, his expression softened, his eyes full of emotion. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tender.

“Yes,” I said, my voice quiet but sure. “I’m okay.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead before easing off me carefully. “Stay here,” he said softly, brushing his fingers along my arm. “I’ll be right back.”

I nodded, my body still tingling as I lay there. He returned moments later with a warm cloth, kneeling beside me. “This might feel a little strange,” he said, his tone gentle as he cleaned me up with care, his movements slow and deliberate.

[valwrites-stuff]

Hii Val, was wondering if you could do a Kirk smut, maybe distracting him as he's playing guitar??

This turned out to be quite long, hopefully this is what you had in mind 😊

Chords of desire

Kirk Hammett x Reader ☆ smut, light degradation

On a lazy and rainy Sunday afternoon, the sound of Kirk's guitar filled the cozy living room. He sat on the couch, his fingers moving swiftly across the strings, his brow furrowed in concentration. As I watched him from afar, I couldn't help but smile at his determination.

Occasionally, a swear word would escape his lips as he messed up a note or a riff. I chuckled to myself, knowing that Kirk was a perfectionist when it came to his music. He would never admit it, but I could tell that he was getting frustrated with himself.

I debated whether to suggest that he take a break, but I knew he would just brush off my suggestion in that moment of creativity striking. Kirk was the type of person who would push himself to the limit, constantly striving to improve and perfect his craft.

The rain continued to patter against the window, creating a soothing backdrop to Kirk's music. The room was filled with a sense of calm and contentment, despite Kirk's occasional outbursts of frustration.

I watched as he closed his eyes, lost in the music he was creating. His fingers danced across the strings, creating beautiful melodies that filled the room.

As Kirk sat there, playing guitar, he looked beautiful with his eyes closed, soft features focusing on the melody that came from the instrument in his hands and I couldn't help but admire him, feeling a familiar need and craving for him coming up inside of me as I kept watching my boyfriend.

Feeling bored with nothing to do, I imagined what me and Kirk could be doing instead of him being occupied by his holy grail and I bit my lip as I kept peering at him, horniness now added to my boredom.

With each strum of the guitar strings, Kirk's fingers danced across the fretboard with a rhythmic precision that seemed almost hypnotic to watch. The high notes reverberated through the air, mingling with the scent of freshly brewed coffee from the kitchen.

His profile was a study in concentration, the occasional wisp of dark hair brushing against his cheeks.

Lost in the music, Kirk remained oblivious to my intense gaze, my mind racing with fantasies of how I'd rather have him occupied - perhaps tangled in the sheets, his body slick with sweat as I explored every inch of him. A flush crept up my neck, heat pooling between my thighs as my imagination ran wild.

A smirk suddenly appeared on my face as I made my way over to the sofa where Kirk sat with his guitar, stopping behind him. I gently wrapped my arms around his neck, making him stop mid-riff.

"Baby, I'm kind of occupied right now." He told me, no intend to remove the instrument from his hands.

"I know, but I'm bored." I pouted as my lips found his neck, placing a tender kiss on his exposed skin.

Kirk couldn't help but sigh as I began to pepper his neck with kisses, his fingers pausing over the strings as I continued my little attack on him. "Hey, I'm trying to practice, we have a gig in two days."

"I know, but I'm sure you could use a little break don't you?" I tried again but Kirk was stubborn and shook his head.

Kirk's resistance only seemed to fuel my desire, the challenge of getting him to put down his beloved guitar. My kisses trailed up his neck, breath hot against his ear as I whispered, "Come on, Kirk, just ten minutes. I promise I won't distract you for too long."

Despite my coaxing, Kirk remained steadfast, his grip on the instrument unyielding. I could sense the tension in his body, a battle between his dedication to the music and the undeniable pull of my touch. It was almost enough to make me give up...almost.

Instead, I decided to take a different approach. I shifted to bypass the sofa and took a seat right next to Kirk, getting comfortable, propping my head up as I watched him with a smirk.

Seeing me sit down beside him, Kirk's focus wavered for just a split second before he quickly regained it, not wanting to let me break his concentration. He felt my eyes on him, watching every move he made, studying him.

The way I was smirking didn't go unnoticed either. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly upwards into a small smile that was quickly suppressed. Despite the nervousness bubbling within him, he kept playing, his fingers dancing across the strings with practiced ease.

Kirk glanced over at me again, his gaze lingering longer this time. My proximity was making it harder for him to concentrate, but he refused to give in. "Babe, I told you I need to practice. Whatever you want right now can wait."

"Alright, then I just stay here and watch."

I said and tried to behave for the moment, waiting for Kirk to continue his essential task before teasingly sliding a hand up his thigh.

Kirk sighed deeply, his frustration evident in the tightening of his jaw. He shifted uncomfortably under my touch, feeling a mix of annoyance and anticipation. His fingers continued their rhythmic dance across the guitar strings, the soft melody filling the room.

His mind however was elsewhere, on my teasing hand slowly creeping up his thigh.

Kirk gave me a stern look, lips set in a firm line as he reached out, placing his hand over mine. He gave it a firm squeeze, a silent warning for me to back off. "This is the last warning."

Kirk maintained his composure, the stern look never leaving his face. Yet, despite his words, there was a hint of anticipation in his voice.

Testing the waters to tease him even more, I pushed my body closer to his, pressing myself against his side. My free hand moved up to his chest, nails lightly dragging across his shirt as I leaned in closer. My lips brushed against his ear as I whispered, "Or what? What are you going to do, stop playing?"

My other hand continued its upward journey, moving higher on his thigh until it was dangerously close to the bulge forming in his pants covered by the instrument in his lap.

"Okay, enough!" Kirk suddenly stopped plucking the strings and grabbed my wrist harshly with a threatening expression before putting his guitar aside. "Since you're that fucking needy, get on your knees."

My eyes widened at Kirk's abrupt command, but a thrill of excitement coursed through me as I quickly complied, sinking to my knees in front of him on the carpeted floor.

As I gazed up at him, Kirk's gaze was intense, a mix of dominance and desire. His free hand reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch surprisingly gentle considering the stern tone he'd used earlier. "Look at me," he commanded quietly.

When I met his eyes, he tilted my chin up with his thumb, studying my face intently. After a moment, he leaned down, his lips hovering just inches from mine.

"That's what you wanted, right? Choking on my fucking dick," he murmured against my mouth.

Kirk's words sent a shiver down my spine and I nodded, the raw lust in his voice making my core clench with anticipation. As he spoke, his hand deftly unbuckled his belt, then unzipped his jeans. He pulled them and his boxers down just enough to free his throbbing erection, not bothering to remove the garments fully.

The thick length sprang forth and Kirk wrapped his fingers around it, giving himself a few slow strokes as he continued to hold my gaze captive. "Open wide, baby," he growled, guiding his cock toward my parted lips. "Take every inch like a good and needy girl."

The dominant command in his tone left no room for argument and I pushed my lips down his shaft, slowly with just the right amount of pressure to leave him gasping at my eagerness.

Kirk's sharp intake of breath rewarded my careful technique as my warm, wet mouth enveloped his cock. Moaning low in his throat, Kirk tangled his fingers in my hair, guiding me along his impressive length.

I relaxed my throat, allowing him to slide deeper into the silky constriction. Each inch felt thicker than the last, stretching my lips and pressing insistently against the inside of my mouth. "Fuck yes, just like that," Kirk groaned, eyes rolling back in bliss.

I sucked on his cock like a slut before letting go only to lick my way up his length, taking the tip into my mouth with gentle force, my lips engulfing him, tongue teasing the head until it got too much.

Kirk abruptly yanked me off his cock, a string of saliva connecting my lips to the glistening head for a fleeting moment before breaking. He leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, his breathing ragged, and glared down at me with a mixture of frustration and dark hunger. "Strip. Now."

I hesitated for a second, as I stared up at him but swiftly began peeling off my top, revealing the sheer lacy fabric beneath. Kirk's gaze raked over my exposed skin, his chest rising and falling with each deepening breath.

Once my upper body was bare, he pointed to my shorts. "Everything," he demanded, his eyes never leaving mine.

As I leisurely stepped out of my shorts and panties, I watched Kirk shed his clothes off his lower body rapidly, unclad legs spread in front of me, cock standing tall, before he forcefully pulled me into his lap with a mischievous smile.

As soon as my naked form settled onto Kirk's muscular thighs, his hands roamed over my curves, mapping every inch of exposed skin. His fingers danced along my spine, sending shivers down my back, before dipping between my breasts to tweak and pinch my nipples into hard peaks.

"Mmm beautiful. That's what you wanted, right?" he murmured, his breath hot against my ear as he nipped at the lobe.

With that, I nodded eagerly and he shifted me slightly, positioning me directly above his throbbing erection. The head nudged against my slick entrance, teasing and probing for entry.

My hips instinctively rocked forward, seeking more contact, more friction.

Kirk chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through me. "Impatient little thing, aren't you?"

I blinked as our eyes met before reaching down between our bodies to align him with my dripping mound. As I sunk down on Kirk's length, I gasped audibly, his hungry gaze tracing my curves before bending down to eagerly kiss my breasts as we started moving.

Kirk's lips trailed fiery paths across my chest, pausing to suckle at a pert nipple while his hips surged upward, driving himself deeper inside of me. Each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through my senses, making my inner walls clench around him in response.

My hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as he lavished attention on my breasts. Lost in the haze of lust, I began to ride him with increasing urgency, my movements becoming more desperate with every little pant slipping from my lips.

Kirk met each downward plunge with a corresponding upward thrust, creating a primal rhythm that seemed to synchronize our very beings.

Eventually, he broke away from my breast, his eyes blazing with intensity as he captured my mouth in a searing kiss.

Kirk wrapped his arms around me tightly as he passionately moved his plush lips against mine, tongues twining around each other and I could only moan into the kiss, overwhelmed from all the pleasure.

As the passionate kiss deepened, Kirk's tongue dominated mine, claiming my mouth just as his cock claimed my body.

He swallowed my moans, drinking in my pleasure like the finest wine. One hand slid down to grip my hip, guiding my movements as I rode him harder and faster.

The new angle allowed him to hit that special spot inside of me with every thrust, sending jolts of electricity shooting up my spine. My nails raked down his back, leaving red lines in their wake as I clung to him desperately.

Breaking the kiss, Kirk buried his face in the crook of my neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin there. He marked me as his, branding me with his passion.

"Kirk, I'm getting close!" I whimpered, my nerve endings on fire as I felt him all around me, electrified by every kiss, touch and movement.

"That's it," he growled against my throat, his voice rough with desire. "Take what you need. Let go for me."

At my breathless admission, Kirk's grip on my hips tightened almost painfully as he increased the force and speed of his thrusts. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with my escalating moans and cries of pleasure.

"I've got you," he panted against your skin, his words punctuated by sharp thrusts. "Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you fall apart on my cock."

One hand snaked between our sweat-slicked bodies, finding my aching clit. He circled the sensitive nub with ruthless precision, pushing me closer and closer to the brink of oblivion.

My inner muscles fluttered and clenched around him, the coil of tension in my core winding tighter and tighter until finally, it snapped. Ecstasy exploded through me in a blinding wave, my vision whiting out as I came undone in his arms.

I cried out in delight as the orgasm hit me, Kirk panting into my ear, an angelic sound as I saw stars before my eyes, my head dizzy as I felt him plunge into me from beneath to chase his release like a desperate man.

Kirk moaned deeply as he felt my pussy clamp down on him, milking his shaft with rhythmic contractions. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer under the onslaught of my intense pleasure.

With a final thrust, Kirk buried himself to the hilt inside of me, his cock pulsating as he unleashed a torrent of hot seed deep within my spasming channel, marking me irrevocably as his.

As the aftershocks subsided, Kirk collapsed back against the couch, pulling me into his embrace. He cradled me against his chest, his heart still racing from the force of his climax. "Fuck, that was incredible," he breathed, pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head.

"I knew you couldn't resist me. You're so easy to distract." I chuckled breathlessly as I leaned my naked body against Kirk as he slipped out of me.

Kirk smirked at my playful accusation, his arms wrapping around me possessively as he held me close. "Easy to distract? Maybe. But impossible to ignore when you're this irresistible."

[guitarizz]

Road-trip

Kirk had one hand on your knee—rubbing it— the other gripping the steering wheel

Your bags were in the back, and you guys were on your way to Minnesota

He was jamming out to one of his songs with you

You guys made a pit stop at McDonalds

You got a burger and fries with a chocolate milkshake, while he got a fishwich with fries and a vanilla milkshake

Soon you guys were done, and you guys walked back to the car hand in hand

You guys started jamming out to more music the second you got into the car

[vinyldreamsfuckup]

Lazy Days

Warnings: fluff, kissing, drinking

Author: sorry this is so short but I thought it was sweet. Also I do take requests if you want to see something specific just send a request in!

Kirk sat on the couch with you. You were leaning against the back of the cushion gently painting his nails. He had a bottle of beer in his free hand as he watched you with a smile.

“And why are we doing this again?” Kirk asked as he took a sip of his beer. Repulsion was playing on the TV in the background.

“Because I think you look great with your nails painted,” you said with a chuckle as you spread the back polish along his nails.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Kirk giggled and looked at the TV.

“Oh I try my best, my love,” You chuckled and closed the polish. You grabbed his hand and blew on his nails to try and help them dry. Kirk laughed and looked at you lovingly.

“I can’t believe I let you do this,” Kirk chuckled and took another sip of his beer.

“Everyone’s doing it. It’s the new thing,” you said wiggling your eyebrows. He laughed and pressed a kiss to your lips. You brought your hand up and cupped his face kissing him back deeply. He set his beer down and guided you into his lap, his hands falling to your waist.

“No messing up your nails. I just did them,” you said with a laugh. He rolled his eyes and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Kirk said with a smile. You chuckled and stood up. You walked into the kitchen to grab yourself a beer then sat down.

“Oooo go grab your guitar!” You excitedly asked. Kirk chuckled and stood up. He appeared a moment later his guitar slung over his shoulder.

“Better?” Kirk asked. He wiggled his freshly painted finger nails and set them on the strings of the guitar.

“Better,” you smiled and took a sip of your beer.

“Now can we cuddle and finish the movie? It’s my one day without band practice or a show,” Kirk chuckled. He pulled the guitar off his body and set it on the chair.

“Yes,” you said with a smile and set your beer down. Kirk came over to the couch and laid down next to you. He pulled you in close and kissed your neck.

“I love you,” Kirk whispered before turning his attention back to the horror movie.

“I love you too, Hammett,” you said smiling back.