#nausicaamusiclover20
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
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
Tumblr media
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.
116 notes · View notes
orions-choker · 3 months ago
Text
People I'd like to know better/ tagged by @nausicaamusiclover20
Thanks for tagging me I totally forgot about this in my drafts woops!
Last Song- There is a light that never goes out-The Smiths
Favorite Color- Pink!!
Last Book- Tender Is The Flesh
Last Movie- Alien Romulus
Last TV Show- Dandadan
Sweet/Spicy/Savory- Spicy!!!!
Last Thing I Googled- Metallica AO3
Current Obsession- Silent Hill 2 Remake
Looking Forward- Finishing my degree so I can stop suffering :)
Tagging: @mirkhammett @fallen-thrasher @ilovepapahet
5 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
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
Tumblr media
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.
101 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
So, apparently my crush on James reached the stage when just reading stories isn’t enough, I have to start requesting them)))
Black album James x ballerina reader (pretty please smut), where he’s just obsessed with their size difference and the fact that she’s very flexible? Like she pretty much drowns in his shirts, her hands are fragile compared to his, etc? one day, he comes to hotel after sound check and sees her doing her stretches in his shirt and her pointe shoes and that’s too much for him? He just has to make love to her? Maybe he is making references to Beaty and the beast ballet? Like James, the beast (metal band, rough guy, always grumpy) finally captured his beauty and will not let her go?
Thank you))
I hope you like it!❤
Warnings: Explicit Content,Adult Themes, Sexual Content light Possessiveness, Physical Intimacy
___________
Tumblr media
In the Arms of the Beast
I didn’t hear the door open—I was too lost in my stretches, the slow pull of muscles and the grounding rhythm of my breath keeping me focused. The air in the hotel room was still, save for the faint rustle of fabric as I moved. James’s shirt, massive on me, slipped over one shoulder as I bent forward, palms flat against the floor.
The shirt smelled like him—leather, a touch of smoke, and something warm I could never quite name. It made me feel wrapped in him, even when he wasn’t here.
I was midway through a stretch, my legs extended in a perfect split, when a familiar growl broke the silence.
“You trying to kill me, darlin’?”
I jerked upright, my heart skipping a beat. Turning my head, I found him standing there, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. His boots were still on, his hair slightly mussed from the day’s soundcheck, and his eyes… Oh, God, his eyes. They were locked on me like a predator that had found its prey.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He didn’t move, just stood there, drinking me in. His gaze traveled slowly, lingering on my legs, then the shirt that barely reached the tops of my thighs. His expression darkened, his lips curling into a crooked grin that sent a shiver down my spine. “Hell of a sight to walk into.”
Heat flooded my face, and I tried to play it off, standing and brushing down the oversized shirt. “I was just stretching.”
“Stretching,” he repeated, his voice low and rough, like gravel under heavy boots. He finally moved, stepping closer, and my pulse quickened. “You look like you’re dancing for me.”
I laughed nervously, though his intensity made it hard to breathe. “It’s not like that.”
But he was already closing the distance, his big hands finding my waist. His palms were rough against my skin, but his touch was gentle, reverent even. “You’re drowning in this shirt,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over the fabric. “Look at you. So damn tiny.”
My hands instinctively rested on his forearms, the contrast between us impossible to ignore. His arms were solid, his muscles thick and corded under my fingers. Next to his, my hands looked fragile, almost doll-like. He noticed it too, his gaze dropping to where I touched him, a quiet groan escaping his lips.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice soft but loaded with something raw. “Like somethin’ out of a story. Beauty and the Beast.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, his hand slid up, tilting my chin so I was looking right into those piercing eyes. The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, warm and commanding. The kiss stole my breath, every bit of him consuming me in the best way.
His hands moved, gripping my hips as he pulled me against him. “Mine,” he growled against my lips. The word sent a thrill down my spine. “You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”
My heart pounded as I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed like I weighed nothing at all. His shirt rode up as he laid me down, exposing my bare legs and the ribbons of my pointe shoes.
He paused, hovering over me, his eyes dark with hunger. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
“James…” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and desire.
His hands were everywhere—exploring, testing. He bent my leg, his touch slow and deliberate, as though marveling at my flexibility. His grin turned wicked as I arched beneath him, a soft gasp slipping from my lips.
“Shh, darlin’,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to my neck. His teeth grazed my skin, sending a jolt of heat through me, and then his tongue followed, soothing the spot. “Let me take care of you.”
James’s hands slid under the oversized shirt I wore, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of my stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His eyes darkened as he glanced up at me, a low growl escaping his throat.
“Fuck, baby, you look so good in this shirt. But it’s in the way,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I need to see you.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I lifted my arms as he tugged the shirt up and over my head, throwing it to the side without a second thought. I was left exposed before him, my skin flushed and my breath shallow as he took in the sight of me, his gaze almost possessive.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rough as his hands traced down my arms, over my shoulders, and to the curve of my waist. His touch was like fire, leaving me aching for more.
His lips trailed along my neck, his breath hot against my skin, before moving lower, over my collarbone. As his hands gently cupped my breasts, I gasped at the feeling of his thumbs brushing over my nipples, hardening at his touch.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his mouth descending further, kissing along the top of my chest before moving to one nipple. He flicked his tongue over the hardened peak, sending a shiver through me.
I arched into him, my hands tangling in his hair as he lavished attention on me, his beard brushing against my skin in a way that made my entire body hum with pleasure. The sensation was both tender and intense, and I couldn't help but moan softly, feeling my body come alive under his touch.
But it was the way his hands moved, the way his fingers lightly traced the curve of my hips, that drove me wild. The gentleness with which he treated me, as though I were something precious, only added to the fire building inside.
"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling. It was a plea, though I didn’t know for what exactly, only that I needed him to make me feel.
With a soft chuckle, he pulled away for a moment, eyes dark with desire. "You’re so eager, darlin’. I’m not going anywhere. Just need to take my time with you."
His words, those quiet promises of patience, set my heart racing. Slowly, he lowered his body, kissing his way down my chest, over my stomach, and further still, until he hovered between my legs.
His eyes locked with mine, filled with a heat that made my breath catch. "Let me taste you, baby," he whispered, his voice hushed, reverent.
The words, the way he said them, stirred something deep within me. I parted my legs slightly, giving him the space he needed, feeling my pulse quicken with every inch closer he came.
 Suddenly, he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the cool wall, enveloping me with his warmth. I  felt my heart beating faster, his strong frame looming over me in a possessive yet gentle way. The heat of his body radiated against mine, sending shivers of anticipation down my spine.
"Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending a thrill through me. "I couldn’t resist. You’re just too tempting right now."
“Maybe I wanted you to,” I whispered back, feeling bold, excitement dancing in my chest.
Before I could respond further, he leaned in, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was electrifying—hunger mixed with tenderness—as he poured his desires into the moment. I melted into him, my hands instinctively sliding into his hair, gripping the soft strands as he began to explore.
He broke the kiss to trail his lips along my jawline and down to my neck, where he lingered, his breath hot against my skin. I gasped, tilting my head back, giving him better access. “God, you taste so good,” he breathed against my collarbone.
“Then don’t stop,” I urged, shivering at his words.
As if sensing my need, he slowly sank to his knees in front of me, his eyes smoldering with intensity. I felt vulnerable yet safe under his gaze, my body aching for him.
“Please, James,” I begged softly, my voice barely above a whisper, my fingers curling tighter in his hair, a mixture of desperation and exhilaration coursing through me.
With a smirk, he leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against my core. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said, his tone both commanding and soothing. And then he buried his face between my thighs.
The sensation was overwhelming—his tongue skillfully teasing me as he explored every inch of my softness. I gasped, the pleasure sending jolts of electricity coursing through me. I couldn’t help but rock my hips closer, urging him on, craving every pleasurable flick.
“James,” I moaned, the sound of his name spilling from my lips like a sweet invitation. His smirk against me made my heart race even faster.
“Feel good, baby?” he murmured, pausing briefly. The wicked look in his eyes only fueled my desire.
“More than you can imagine,” I breathed, arching my back, desperate for more. “Don’t stop, please…”
As he continued, I felt myself teetering on the edge, every flick of his tongue driving me closer. “You’re so good at this,” I panted, lost in the moment. “You know how much I crave this.”
“Only the best for you,” he replied between teasing kisses, his voice low and sultry. He paused and gave me a look filled with heat. “You deserve to be spoiled, babe.”
With my hands gripping his hair tighter, I pulled him closer. “Then spoil me.”
He was relentless, his mouth devouring me in a way that sent shockwaves through my body. “You’re delicious,” he said, a hint of possessiveness lacing his words. “I could stay here all night.”
“God, James,” I gasped, feeling another wave of pleasure building inside me. “I’m—”
He cut me off with a hard, swift move, pushing me over the edge, and I cried out in ecstasy. Colors exploded behind my eyelids as waves of bliss washed over me.
When I finally came down from my high, he stood, brushing his lips against mine with a possessive smirk. “You okay?” he asked, concern mingling with the raw desire in his eyes.
“Better than okay,” I whispered, feeling electric currents still dancing through my body. “Now I want you.”
His brow arched playfully, desires swirling like a tempest in his eyes. “You think you can handle me?” he teased, leaning closer.
I smirked back, feeling daring. “I’ve handled you before, haven’t I?”
“Touché,” he said with a chuckle, but his expression turned serious. “You ready for this?”
“Always,” I assured him, feeling a thrill of anticipation.
With a single motion, he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around him as he pressed me against the wall. I could feel him, hard and ready, throbbing against my core, and the intensity made my breath quicken. “You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?” he said, his voice thick with need.
“Only for you,” I breathed. “Always for you.”
He grinned wickedly, his breath ghosting across my ear. “Then let’s see how much you can take.” With that, he sank into me in one smooth motion, and I gasped as he filled me completely.
“God, yes,” I breathed, losing myself in the sensation. “You feel incredible.”
“Damn right I do,” he growled, driving deeper. “And you’re mine.”
The rhythm of our bodies colliding filled the air, the sound a symphony of passion and urgency. “Look at me, Y/N,” he demanded, his eyes locked onto mine. I nodded, surrendering completely to him, my heart racing as I matched his intensity.
“Tell me how good it feels,” he urged, his breath ragged.
“James, it feels—oh god, it feels amazing,” I moaned, my body arching against his. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“That's right, baby. I want to hear you say it. I want you to remember how good I make you feel,” he said, his voice low and dark, sending shivers up my spine.
“James, you make me feel so good,” I whimpered, desperate for him. “Don’t stop. Just like that.”
With each thrust, he buried himself deeper, igniting flames of pleasure that threatened to consume me. The heat between us crackled, the world beyond us fading to nothing as we lost ourselves in each other.
“C’mon, babe. Let it go for me,” he urged, his voice a gravelly whisper as he picked up the pace, the need pushing both of us toward the brink.
“James, I’m so close,” I gasped, urgency flooding my voice.
“Then let go for me,” he commanded, thrusting harder, each movement focused solely on driving me to that sweet release. I could feel myself slipping, my breath hitching.
With one final deep thrust, I came undone, a wave of pleasure crashing over me, drawing out a desperate cry that echoed in the room. I felt him surge with me, his grip tightening as he lost himself inside me, his own moans harmonizing with mine.
In the aftermath, as our breaths mingled, he cradled my face in his hands, his touch gentle amidst the overwhelming intensity. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, his eyes softening as they bore into mine.
I smiled, relishing the aftermath of our passion. “So are you,” I replied, my fingers trailing along his jaw. “You always know how to make me feel amazing.”
He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “And I’ll keep making you feel that way, because you deserve it.”
With a warmth filling my chest, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his once more, feeling grateful for this moment and the man who held me so tenderly yet fiercely. In James’ arms, I knew I had found something extraordinary.
87 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
Hi :]
Could u do rough passionate sex with Jason :] I feel like even though he’s on top, he’d still be very whiny… maybe more vocal than you…
I hope you like it!❤🔥
Warnings: Explicit Content, Graphic Sexual Content,Strong Language,Dominance Themes, Mature Themes
Tumblr media
Moans in the Dark
The air between us crackled with tension, so thick that I could barely breathe. Jason’s eyes were locked on mine, dark and full of hunger, and I knew in that moment that there was no turning back. His body was so close to mine that I could feel the heat radiating from him. Every step he took toward me made my heart race faster, anticipation curling in my stomach.
Without a word, he closed the distance, his lips crashing into mine with a desperate urgency. His kiss was deep and hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. His hands were everywhere, pulling me closer, feeling the softness of my skin, the heat of my body under his touch. I moaned softly against his mouth, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer.
“You’re mine tonight,” he whispered between kisses, his voice rough, filled with a hunger that sent a shiver through me. “And I’m not letting you go.”
His words made my heart race even faster, the need in his voice igniting something deep inside me. I wanted him—needed him—more than anything. My body was already on fire, aching for him.
Jason’s hands moved quickly, tugging at my clothes, pulling my shirt off with an urgency that made me gasp. He kissed down my neck, his lips hot against my skin, moving lower, lower, until he was kissing the curve of my breast. I couldn’t stop myself from moaning louder, my back arching slightly as he lavished attention on me.
His lips ghosted over my stomach, and I gasped when he suddenly dropped to his knees, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “I’ll make you scream for me.”
I couldn’t speak. My body was already trembling with need, every inch of me desperate for him. I parted my legs wider, silently begging him to continue. He didn’t hesitate. His mouth found me, hot and hungry, the tip of his tongue flicking against my skin before he licked me with slow, teasing strokes.
A breathless moan escaped my lips, but Jason’s groan was louder, rougher, vibrating through me. “God, you taste fucking incredible,” he muttered against me, his tongue licking deeper, his hands gripping my hips as he held me in place.
Every flick of his tongue made my body shudder, and I couldn’t stop myself from responding. My hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer, urging him on. “Please, Jason,” I gasped, my voice trembling. “More... I need more.”
He growled in response, and I could hear his breath quicken as he pushed deeper, the sound of his moans filling the room. His sounds were so loud, so raw, that they pushed me to the edge. Every time his tongue flicked against me, I was lost in the sensation.
“You want me?” he asked, his voice hoarse, louder than my own breathless moans. “Then show me. Beg for it.”
“Please, Jason,” I gasped, my legs trembling with the pressure building inside me. “I need you. Now.”
Jason pulled back for a moment, looking up at me with dark, possessive eyes. “You’re fucking perfect,” he growled, his voice filled with admiration and lust. He stood, his hands gripping my thighs as he moved between my legs, positioning himself at my entrance.
I could barely breathe. His cock was hard and thick, and I could already feel the intensity of him, just by the way he looked at me. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer to him. Without another word, he thrust into me in one powerful motion, filling me completely.
The sensation of him inside me made me gasp, the stretch of him nearly overwhelming. But before I could adjust, Jason’s pace picked up. He thrust into me hard, and I couldn’t stop the loud moan that ripped from my throat. But Jason’s moan was louder, filled with a raw hunger that sent shockwaves through me.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jason groaned, his hands gripping my hips as he thrust harder, deeper, pushing me toward the edge. “I could do this all fucking night.”
His moans, louder and more desperate than mine, filled the room. It was like music to my ears, the sound of him losing control, the sound of him so close to the edge. His breaths were ragged, his chest rising and falling with every powerful thrust.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect for me,” he growled, his voice hoarse with need. His pace was relentless, and I couldn’t help but meet him thrust for thrust, desperate for more.
His moans grew louder with every thrust, every movement, as though he couldn’t contain his pleasure any longer. His hands moved to my chest, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, making me gasp in surprise and pleasure. He leaned down to kiss me, his lips bruising against mine as he thrust deeper, harder, pushing me further into the bed.
“Come for me,” he breathed against my ear, his voice low and commanding. “I want to hear you scream my name.”
The pressure inside me was unbearable now, and with a breathless cry, I came apart. My body shook as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me, and I screamed his name, louder than I ever thought I could.
But Jason’s moan was louder still, a primal growl that vibrated through my body as he came with me. His thrusts became frantic, harder, until he buried himself deep inside me, the release so intense it left him breathless.
We stayed like that, tangled together, for a long moment, both of us gasping for breath, our bodies still trembling with the aftershocks.
Jason’s voice was soft now, his lips brushing against my ear as he pulled me closer, his body still against mine. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice filled with satisfaction. “And I’m never letting you go.”
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face as I snuggled closer to him, feeling the heat of his body next to mine. In that moment, I knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Neither of us was.
82 notes · View notes
ilovepapahet · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Never done this before, hope you like it!
@magnetadraww @nausicaamusiclover20
I love your art and I love you writing ❤️
I’m starting a picrew chain because I’m bored.
blog vs blogger!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
tagging:… @kirks-exquisite-vegan-pancakes, @marthtron, @backseatrhythm, @aimbuddylist, @aspartame-parent and YOU.
2K notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
hey can you write a fic about reader! x current james?? her parents are away from the country for Christmas and they are very close friends with james? they asked him if he could look after her and come to check if she is studying, eating etc.
the relationship between james and the reader are kinda tense? idk how to explain it but they have a crush for each other. so one day when he came to see how’s she doing the reader is very touchy with him and it ends with smut???
I would love to read something like that
Ps. I love your writings ❤️🫶❤️
Thank you so much! I hope you like it!🔥❤
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, mature themes, explicit language, power dynamics
__________________________
Tumblr media
Burning winter
The house felt far too big for just me, especially at night. My parents were off gallivanting across Europe for Christmas, leaving me behind with strict instructions to “stay focused” on my studies.
And, of course, they’d enlisted James to check on me.
The doorbell rang, sending a jolt of anticipation through me. I tried not to look too eager as I opened the door.
There he stood, a faint dusting of snow melting on his dark hair, his broad shoulders wrapped in his coat. James didn’t have to try to look good; he just did. His eyes met mine, and a slow smile curled his lips.
“Hey,” he said, stepping inside. His voice, low and smooth, had the same effect it always did—making my pulse quicken.
“Hey.” I closed the door behind him, the chill of the outside air replaced by his warmth.
“Studying hard?” he asked, glancing toward the books I’d spread across the coffee table to give the illusion of productivity.
“Obviously,” I said, feigning innocence.
“Hmm,” he murmured, shrugging out of his coat. His fitted sweater hugged his torso, and I found myself staring at the way it stretched over his chest. I tore my eyes away before he could catch me.
“You can sit,” I said, motioning to the couch.
He hesitated, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he sat down, leaving a polite amount of space between us.
“You don’t have to sit so far away,” I teased, shifting closer.
His lips twitched into a smirk. “Just trying to be professional.”
“Oh, come on. It’s just me,” I said, letting my hand brush lightly against his forearm. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a spark through me.
His eyes flicked down to where my fingers rested, his jaw tightening. “Y/N.” His voice held a warning.
“What?” I asked, tilting my head innocently. My fingers drifted higher, over the fabric of his sweater. “You’re always so tense. Someone needs to help you relax.”
His breath hitched, and I caught the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“Maybe I want to play,” I murmured, leaning closer. My lips were just a breath away from his, and I felt the warmth of his exhale against my skin.
“Y/N,” he said again, but this time my name came out as a growl, low and rough.
I kissed him before he could stop me.
The moment our lips met, the tension between us snapped like a live wire. His hesitation vanished as his hands gripped my waist, pulling me onto his lap.
The kiss was hungry, his lips moving against mine with a heat that left me dizzy. I tangled my fingers in his hair, tugging gently, and he groaned, the sound reverberating through me.
“You’re going to drive me crazy,” he muttered against my lips, his voice thick with need.
“Good,” I whispered, rolling my hips against him.
His reaction was immediate. His hands tightened on my waist, and his head fell back slightly, exposing the strong line of his neck. I leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his skin, savoring the way his breath caught with every touch.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice strained as his hands slid beneath my sweater. His fingers brushed over my bare skin, and I shivered at the sensation.
“Touch me,” I urged, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Careful,” he said, his tone dark, warning. But his hands moved higher, exploring every curve of my waist and back. The roughness of his palms against my skin sent a thrill through me.
I tugged at the hem of his sweater, and he paused only long enough to pull it over his head. My breath hitched as I took in the sight of him—lean, muscular, and impossibly gorgeous.
“See something you like?” he teased, his smirk returning despite the heat in his gaze.
“Maybe,” I said, running my hands over his chest, my nails grazing his skin just enough to make him hiss softly.
“You’re trouble,” he murmured, his lips finding mine again.
This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate. His hands roamed over my body, pulling me closer, as though he couldn’t stand even a sliver of space between us. I felt his lips trail down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin before he kissed the spot just below my ear.
I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “James...”
His name fell from my lips like a plea, and it seemed to undo him. His hands slid down to my thighs, gripping them firmly as he guided my movements against him. The friction sent sparks shooting through me, and I couldn’t stop the soft sounds escaping my lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rough with want. His lips found mine again, capturing every breath, every sigh.
The heat between us built steadily, consuming everything else. His hands never stopped moving, exploring, worshipping, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of me.
My heart raced as I felt James’s hands slide from my waist to my hips, pulling me closer. His lips were on mine, but the kiss was soft, teasing, as if he were waiting for something. Waiting for me to give him permission, or for the right moment to lose himself in the heat of the night.
“I want you, Y/N,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
His hands roamed up my back, brushing against my skin as he slowly pulled my sweater off, the cool air hitting my exposed skin. I raised my arms, allowing him to remove it completely, and he tossed it aside without a second thought. His eyes lingered on me then, his gaze heated and appreciative, his fingers tracing the curve of my shoulders as if memorizing the feel of my skin.
“You’re stunning,” he murmured, his voice a hushed reverence.
Before I could respond, his lips were on my neck again, his kisses soft but insistent. Each press of his mouth against my skin sent a new wave of heat rushing through me. His hands moved lower, fingertips brushing the fabric of my jeans, and I felt the urgency in his touch.
He stopped just before reaching the button, his lips grazing my collarbone. “Let me,” he breathed, the words a quiet request.
I nodded, and with a swift movement, he unbuttoned my jeans, sliding them down my legs. My breath caught as he discarded them, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. His eyes never left mine as his fingers grazed the waistband, giving me a moment to decide if I wanted to go further.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.
I could barely find my voice, the need building too quickly inside me. “Yes," I breathed. "Please."
With a slow, deliberate movement, he slid my underwear off, leaving me bare before him. He took a moment to drink in the sight of me, his eyes darkening as he traced the outline of my body with his gaze.
His lips returned to my chest, trailing soft kisses across the tops of my breasts. His touch was reverent, like he was savoring every inch of me, as if he wanted to commit it all to memory. I let out a soft sigh, unable to keep the moan from escaping my lips as his mouth continued its journey downward.
"James," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Please..."
He didn't need further encouragement. His hands gently cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin. His lips followed, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of my chest, then to the other side, his mouth warm against me. The sensation of his lips, his breath, made every nerve in my body spark with desire.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. My hands found their way to the waistband of his jeans, pulling at it urgently, wanting him just as much as he wanted me. He lifted his hips slightly to help, allowing me to strip him of his jeans, and then his boxers, leaving him just as exposed as I was.
We were both breathing heavily now, our bodies close but not yet fully connected. I wanted him, needed him, and I knew he felt the same way.
James cupped my face, bringing my lips to his once more, his kiss deep and hungry. I responded with equal passion, my hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard muscles, the warmth of his skin under my fingertips. The sensation of his body against mine, so close, was nearly overwhelming.
“James… what are you doing?” I asked, my voice breathless, a hint of curiosity mixed with excitement.
He stopped for a moment, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “I’m going to fuck you on this table, Y/N. I can’t wait any longer. You’ve made me crazy.” His words were low, rough, and sent a wave of heat flooding through me.
The bluntness of his admission made my heart race. Part of me wanted to stop him, to ask more questions, but the rest of me— the part that burned for him—wanted nothing more than to feel him, to give in to the heat between us. I didn’t answer with words, but with action, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.
“You don’t have to ask for permission,” he muttered with a sly grin, his lips brushing mine once again. “I’m taking you, Y/N. You want me just as much.”
His words only fueled the fire inside me. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I wanted him, wanted everything he was offering. And when he finally lowered me onto the table, the cool wood beneath me contrasted sharply with the heat of his body.
James hovered over me for a moment, his hands running down my body as his lips explored my neck, my chest, as if trying to memorize every inch of me. The feeling of him above me, so close, but still not enough, made my skin tingle with anticipation.
“Are you sure?” he asked again, his voice softer now, but still laced with that raw hunger. His hands rested on my thighs, fingertips tracing circles on the sensitive skin there.
“Yes,” I whispered, my hands moving to the waistband of his jeans, undoing them quickly, desperate to feel him against me. “I want you, James. Now.”
He smirked down at me, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “You’re gonna get what you fucking need, babe. Trust me."
James..." I whispered, my voice thick with desire. I wanted him—needed him—so badly it hurt.
"Spread your legs for me," he ordered, his voice commanding but laced with a raw edge that sent a jolt of excitement through me.
I obeyed without hesitation, my legs parting as I looked up at him. My heart was hammering in my chest as he stepped even closer, his body hovering above mine. "That's my good girl," he murmured, his hands trailing down my body, sending shivers of pleasure through me.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear, his voice low and filled with lust. "You're so fucking perfect," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "I’ve been thinking about this moment—how it would feel to have you, to finally touch you the way I’ve wanted."
His words made me ache for him more, the anticipation nearly unbearable. I couldn’t take it any longer. "Please, James," I breathed, my voice desperate. "I need you."
He smirked, his lips brushing against my neck as his hands slid down to my waist. "You want me?" he asked, his voice dark with desire. "You want me to fuck you, make you feel everything?"
I nodded, the words caught in my throat. "Yes," I gasped, my hands gripping the edge of the table as I arched up into him. "I need you so badly."
His eyes locked onto mine, a smoldering intensity in them. "Good. You’re gonna get what you need," he growled, his hands moving to my hips as he positioned himself between my legs. "Hold on to the table, baby. Don’t move."
He thrust into me with a force that made me gasp, the sudden stretch of him overwhelming. My body trembled beneath him, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I met him, pushing back against him, urging him to go deeper, faster.
"Fuck," he groaned, his eyes closing briefly. "So tight... so fucking perfect." His thrusts grew faster, each one deeper than the last. "You feel incredible around me, Y/N. So fucking tight. I could stay inside you forever."
I moaned beneath him, my body trembling with each powerful thrust. "James," I gasped, "So good."
His pace increased, and I felt my body tightening in response, the tension building with every thrust. His hand moved to my clit, rubbing it in tight circles, adding to the delicious pressure.
"You’re so close, I can feel it," he muttered, his voice rough. "Let go, baby. Come for me."
The words sent me over the edge. I gasped, my whole body trembling as the orgasm ripped through me. My back arched off the table, my fingers digging into the wood, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me.
"Fuck, Y/N," James groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he followed me, his body shuddering above me. "So fucking good. I’m not stopping until you’re completely fucked out."
He slammed into me once more, the final thrust sending him over the edge. I felt him pulse inside me, his release filling me as he groaned my name, his hands gripping my hips hard.
We stayed there for a moment, both of us catching our breath, connected in that intimate silence, our bodies still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened.
James slowly pulled out, looking down at me with a mix of affection and desire. His hands gently brushed the hair from my face. "You’re amazing," he said softly, his voice no longer commanding but tender.
I smiled weakly, still feeling the aftershocks of pleasure. "So are you," I whispered, my voice hoarse.
James bent down, placing a soft kiss on my forehead before pulling me into his arms. He paused for a moment, looking around the room. With a small, wry grin, he whispered, "Well... I guess it’s good your parents are still away, huh?"
I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in the room lifting just a little. "Yeah, I guess so," I responded, my voice still breathless but lighter now. "Wouldn’t want anyone walking in on... this."
He chuckled, pulling me closer into his embrace. The warmth of his body against mine felt comforting, almost surreal, considering what we’d just shared. "Right," he murmured, his tone still low and teasing. "But, hey, I wouldn’t mind if they stayed away a little longer. We’ve got time."
I smiled, my head resting against his chest as I closed my eyes. "Definitely," I agreed softly, feeling the quiet intimacy of the moment settle between us. With my parents still away on their extended trip, the house felt emptier—just us here now, the world outside forgotten.
82 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
haiii I like your works sm, hope you'll like my request!!
James in his BL cowboy era works on ranch of reader's dad(reader is much younger than James). Reader and him fell in love with each other, while her dad is not good with it and prevents Reader from interacting with James. One night, James steals the reader away from home and they spend a passionate but tender first night together in his little ranch house, where Het takes her virginity and then tenderly takes care of her after making love... ahh I can't stop thinking about how hot cowboy James is😞
love ya!!
God, I love cowboy James, I hope you like it❤ Love ya too!
Warnings: Soft smut, age gap, loss of virginity
Tumblr media
The cowboy and the rose
The summer air was thick with the scent of hay and wildflowers, a lazy breeze carrying the hum of cicadas across the ranch. I sat on the porch swing, the wooden slats creaking beneath me, as I watched James work in the fading light. There was something magnetic about the way he moved, his sun-kissed skin glistening under the weight of hard labor. My father had hired him months ago, but from the moment James set foot on our land, I knew he was trouble—the kind of trouble that pulled at me in ways I couldn’t explain.
James wasn’t like the other ranch hands. There was an air about him, a quiet confidence, the hint of a smirk beneath his dusty cowboy hat. He’d catch my eye now and then, his gaze lingering just long enough to make my heart race. It wasn’t long before my father noticed the way I looked at him—and the way James looked at me.
“You stay away from that man, Y/N,” my father had warned one evening, his voice firm as we sat around the dinner table. “He’s not good for you. Too old, too wild. He’ll bring nothing but heartache.”
I didn’t argue. There was no point when my father had made up his mind, but his words only fueled the fire inside me. James wasn’t reckless; he was kind. He’d stop to help mend a fence or comfort a scared horse, his touch gentle despite the strength in his hands. And when he looked at me, I felt seen—not as the rancher’s daughter, but as a woman.
We’d stolen moments where we could. A whispered conversation in the barn, our hands brushing as we worked side by side. Once, late at night, I’d snuck out to meet him by the river. He’d pulled me close under the stars, his arms wrapped around me as if to shield me from the world.
But my father’s disapproval loomed over us like a storm cloud. He’d started keeping a closer eye on me, his sharp gaze following me wherever I went.
That night, everything changed.
I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of my father’s rules pressing down on me. Then I heard it—the soft tap of pebbles against my window. My heart leapt as I peered outside. There he was, James, standing in the moonlight, his truck parked at the edge of the property.
“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely carrying through the night. “Come with me.”
I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my boots and slipped out the window, my heart pounding as I crept across the yard. When I reached him, he took my hand, his grip firm but warm.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement.
He looked at me, his dark eyes steady. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
We drove to his small ranch house on the edge of town, the truck rumbling through the quiet night. When we arrived, he helped me out of the cab, his hand lingering on my waist. The house was modest, but it felt like a sanctuary. Inside, the scent of leather and cedar enveloped me, the warm glow of lamplight casting shadows on the walls.
James turned to me, his expression serious. “I know this is a lot,” he said, his voice soft. “If you want to go back, I’ll take you. But if you stay… I need you to know how much you mean to me.”
My breath caught in my throat as I stepped closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His lips met mine, the kiss slow and tender, as if he was savoring every moment. He led me to his bedroom, the simplicity of the space reflecting the man himself. There, in the quiet of the night, we came together for the first time.
James kissed me deeply, his hands cupping my face as he murmured against my lips, “You’re so beautiful.” The words sent a warmth through me, making my skin tingle. His touch moved down my arms, his fingers grazing my skin like a whisper, until they settled on my waist, holding me close.
He unbuttoned my blouse with care, his eyes meeting mine with each undone button. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, his voice steady but filled with need. I shook my head, my breath catching as I helped him shrug off his shirt. His chest was firm and warm, and I let my hands explore the planes of his skin, marveling at how strong yet gentle he was.
When I shivered, he wrapped his arms around me, his lips brushing along my temple. “Cold?” he asked.
“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Just nervous. This is my first time.”
James’s expression softened, his hand coming up to gently cup my cheek. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I’ll take care of you, I promise. We’ll go slow, okay?”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I nodded, trusting him completely. “Okay.”
He laid me down on the bed, his movements deliberate and tender. His lips followed the curve of my neck, tracing a line to my collarbone as his hands mapped every inch of my body. I gasped when his touch became more insistent, his kisses trailing lower.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low but gentle.
“Yes,” I breathed, my hands tangling in his hair. “Please.”
His touch became more purposeful, his hands and lips exploring me with a reverence that made me feel cherished. As he finally joined us together, he moved with a slowness that showed his care for me, pausing just enough to let me adjust, whispering softly, ""Are you okay, sweetheart?" he whispered, moving with a slowness that showed his care for me.
He paused to let me adjust, brushing a soft kiss against my lips, his hand gently cradling my face. "How do you feel?" he asked, his voice a soothing murmur that wrapped around me like a warm embrace.
I hesitated, my words catching in my throat as I tried to make sense of the unfamiliar sensations. "I don’t know," I admitted softly. "It’s strange… but it feels right, being with you."
“I’ll go slow,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my nerves. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
I nodded, my breath trembling as he began to ease into me. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of discomfort and an unfamiliar fullness. Sensing my tension, he stilled, his forehead pressing gently against mine.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered, his thumb stroking my cheek. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
I exhaled shakily, relaxing under his tender encouragement. Slowly, he moved again, giving me a moment to adjust to every inch. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a low rumble of concern and love.
“Yes,” I whispered, my hands gripping his shoulders for support. “Don’t stop.”
He pressed another kiss to my lips, his movements careful and unhurried. As the discomfort faded, a new kind of warmth spread through me, and I found myself meeting his rhythm. His whispered words of praise and love grounded me, each one like a lifeline.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “So perfect.”
I clung to him, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. “I’m yours, James,” I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks.
He moved with a mixture of passion and tenderness, as if every touch and motion were a declaration of his feelings. The room was filled with soft gasps and murmured words, the world beyond the walls fading away entirely.
When we reached our peak together, I felt as though the stars themselves had fallen into the room. James collapsed beside me, pulling me into his arms, our breaths mingling as we lay entangled.
Afterward, he cleaned me with a warm towel, his movements unhurried and soothing. “Does that feel alright?” he asked, his voice still husky but tender.
“It’s perfect,” I replied, watching the way his brow furrowed with concentration as he cared for me.
He climbed back into bed, wrapping the blanket around us and holding me close. “Come here,” he murmured, kissing my forehead. “I’ve got you.”
I rested my head against his chest, his heartbeat a steady reminder of everything we’d just shared. “I love you, James,” I said softly, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
He tipped my chin up, his lips brushing mine in a featherlight kiss. “I love you too, Y/N. More than anything.”
We lay there, the weight of the night sinking into us, but instead of fear, I felt a profound sense of belonging. For the first time, I understood what it meant to be truly seen, truly loved, and I knew I’d never let it go.
72 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 4 days ago
Note
NAUSICA I LOVE SO FREAKING MUCH YOUR WORK
i have a idea for a smutty fanfic with james hetfield 🥳
idk if someone already asked you this but anyways.
I just had the idea of ​​a fanfic of James who is married to reader and they have Cali (James's first daughter) newborn and reader's mother spends almost every day at her house with her granddaughter and those things, and because of those things they have not been able to have sex for months. But one night when his daughter and reader's mother are sleeping they have sex. It may sound strange but since James hasn't fucked for months, he goes a little hard, rough and very vocal with reader and makes everyone else wake up?
thank you so much!
Thank you so much for loving my stories. I'm so sorry if I'm posting this now. I hope you like it!❤
Warnings: mauture themes, sexual themes, strong language
_________________________
Tumblr media
Interrupted desire
The house was finally silent. After months of exhaustion, between taking care of our newborn daughter, Cali, and my mother practically moving in to "help," James and I hadn't had a moment alone. Every night, we were either too tired or interrupted, and with my mother always around, privacy was nonexistent. Intimacy had become a distant memory.
But tonight? Tonight was different.
Cali was fast asleep in her bassinet, her tiny breaths even and peaceful. My mother had passed out in the guest room after an entire day of fussing over her granddaughter. For the first time in what felt like forever, there were no interruptions. No baby cries, no unannounced visits—just me, James, and a tension that had been simmering for months.
I barely had time to process it when James's hands were on me, his lips finding mine in a desperate kiss. His touch was rough, needy, and I felt my stomach tighten with anticipation. Months. It had been months since we had touched each other like this, and judging by the way James was gripping me, I wasn’t the only one feeling the ache of longing.
"Fuck, Y/N... you have no idea how much I've missed this," he growled against my skin, his voice thick with need. His hands slid under my shirt, rough fingers dancing over my skin, making me shiver.
I gasped as he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the mattress with a hunger that made my body burn. He wasn't holding back tonight. There was no slow build-up, no gentle teasing. Just raw, unfiltered need.
"James—" I barely got his name out before he was on me, his mouth trailing down my neck, teeth grazing my skin as he bit down, sucking marks onto my flesh. His body pressed against mine in a way that made me dizzy. The bed creaked beneath us as he moved, his groans mixing with my gasps.
He was rough. Desperate. Months of frustration poured into every movement. His hands gripped my hips tightly, keeping me right where he wanted me. He flipped me onto my stomach, his fingers pressing bruises into my skin as he yanked my hips back against him.
"You're mine, Y/N. Fuck, I’ve needed you so bad," he rasped, voice raw and wrecked.
The way he was panting, groaning, muttering curses under his breath—he wasn’t holding back, and neither was I. My fingers clawed at the sheets, trying to muffle my own moans, but it was impossible. The headboard hit the wall with a rhythmic thud, and the bedframe creaked louder than I remembered.
Too loud.
James didn’t seem to care. If anything, it only fueled him. His grip on my waist tightened, his thrusts growing even more relentless. He tangled a hand in my hair, tugging my head back as his teeth scraped against my shoulder. "Take it, baby. Fuck, you feel so good."
And then—
"What the hell?!"
The voice sliced through the air like a bucket of ice water.
James froze. My heart nearly stopped.
We turned in sync toward the door, where my mother stood, wide-eyed and horrified. In the crib, Cali stirred, letting out a tiny, confused wail.
James let out a long, frustrated groan and buried his face in the crook of my neck. "God damn it."
Heat flooded my face as I scrambled to grab the covers, my mind racing for an explanation—any explanation—but what could I even say?
Before I could come up with anything, my mother sighed dramatically. "For god's sake, at least have the decency to put a pillow behind the damn headboard next time!"
Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and marched down the hall, muttering under her breath about "young people and their hormones."
As soon as she disappeared, silence hung in the air for a long moment before James let out a breathy chuckle. "Oops."
I swatted at his chest, laughing despite myself. "Oops?! That’s all you have to say?"
James smirked, nuzzling into my neck. "What else can I say? Next time, I’ll try to keep it quieter."
James collapsed on top of me, breathless and defeated. "We finally get a moment and this happens."
I let out a helpless laugh, still reeling. "Well... at least now she knows we’re still married."
He groaned again, rolling off me, arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me close. "We’re trying this again tomorrow. No interruptions."
"If we survive the embarrassment," I teased.
I rolled my eyes, but the truth was, I couldn’t wait for next time.
And honestly? It really was worth it.
58 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 24 days ago
Note
I need to see 2002 James tied up whimpering, begging, sobbing 😊
Tumblr media
Warnings: 18+ explicit language, mature themes, sexual content, and depictions of bondage and restraint, power dynamics.
Hope you like it!❤
________________________
Surrounded by Desire
The dim light of the bedroom wrapped around us like a warm, seductive blanket, casting soft shadows across the walls. I looked down at James, his wrists securely restrained to the bed with soft, inviting fabric, and a thrill pulsed through me. He looked utterly divine—completely captive, filled with longing, and exuding raw desire. Every quickened breath he took, laced with excitement, sent heat spiraling through me.
“Y/n…” he breathed, his voice trembling with need. The desperation in his tone stirred something primal within me, igniting a fire that begged to be unleashed. I could see the look in his eyes, an eagerness, a silent invitation to explore every boundary that made my skin flush with anticipation.
“Oh, but where’s the fun in letting you go?” I smirked, relishing the control I had over him. I leaned down, letting my fingers glide over his chest, tracing the hard lines of his body with deliberate slowness. Each caress heightened the tension that swirled between us. “You know you’re all mine tonight. Are you ready to see just how far I can push you?”
His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, his chest rising and falling faster—a clear sign of his eagerness. “Y-Yes,” he admitted, his voice thick with desire, a trust shining in his eyes.
“Good,” I said, my tone low and dripping with sultry promise. Leaning in, I brushed my lips against his ear, letting my breath tease him relentlessly. “Tell me what you want, baby. I want to hear you beg for it.”
“I want you…” he whispered, his breath hitching as I teased him. “Please… I need you. I want you so fucking badly.”
“Want me to do what?” I pressed, trailing my fingers lower, skimming just above the waistband of his boxers, a teasing promise hanging in the air. I could see him squirm, that mixture of urgency and desperation etched on his face as he strained against the bonds, every fiber of his being yearning for release.
“Just… take control. Please… fuck me,” he gasped, his voice strained and filled with need. The sight of him—so obedient, so willing—made my heart race with delight.
“Such a good boy,” I purred, the words escaping my lips like silk. I leaned closer, letting my lips brush against his skin, my breath hot against him. “You look so fucking sexy when you let me take charge of you. How could I possibly resist?”
I slowly pulled down his boxers, exposing his eager length to the cool air. He gasped as I pulled them away, reveling in the way my teasing made him squirm beneath me.
Then, I positioned myself above him, straddling his hips. I locked my gaze on his, a wicked smile on my lips. “You ready for this?” I asked, my voice dropping to a sultry whisper.
“Yes! Please, Y/n, please… I need you!” His eyes were wide, filled with that raw need that drove me wild.
I lowered myself down slowly, feeling him stretch me as I sank onto him. A moan escaped my lips, blending with his sharp gasp as I filled myself with him completely. The sensation sent waves of pleasure radiating through my entire body. “So fucking good,” I breathed, relishing the moment, the stretch, and the heat between us.
“Damn, you feel incredible,” he groaned, thrusting his hips upward eagerly, searching for more as his hand tangled in my hair.
With a wicked smile, I tightened around him, savoring the friction. “You like that, don’t you?” I teased, lifting myself slightly before sliding back down, relishing how he filled me completely. “You’re going to feel even better.”
I teased him relentlessly, using my hips to roll and grind against him, every movement pushing us both closer to the edge of ecstasy.
“Y/n, please… don’t tease like this,” he begged, desperation lacing his voice. “I need more! I can’t take it!”
“More? You want more?” I taunted, turning the heat between us into molten desire. My eyes sparkled with mischief as I began to pick up the pace, riding him harder, the sound of our bodies joining, filling the room. “Then show me how badly you want it.”
“Fuck! Yes! Just like that!” he cried out, eyes dark with lust. “Don’t stop! I want you to ride me harder!”
I leaned forward, pressing my body against his as I continued to ride him, capturing every inch of pleasure coursing through us. I could feel the heat of his body beneath me and hear the desperate rhythm of his breath matching the tempo of my movements.
“You’re doing so well for me,” I whispered in his ear, letting my lips brush against his skin. “I want to feel you come for me, James. Can you do that? Can you give it to me?”
“Y/N, I’m so close!” he gasped, the urgency tinging his voice as I felt him tense beneath me. Every pulse of his body spoke volumes of the pleasure he was teetering on.
“Then let go. Give in to me,” I urged, my voice sultry and commanding. “I want to see you fall apart, scream for me when you do.”
With one last thrust, I pushed him over the edge, his body shaking violently as pleasure rushed through him, sending him soaring into ecstasy. “Y/N!” he shouted, his voice a beautiful symphony of pure pleasure, the sound sending waves of heat rolling through me.
I was entranced as I watched him unravel, the power of the moment coursing through me. As I tightened around him, the sensation propelled me into my own release, and I lost myself in the overwhelming bliss of it all.
As the waves of pleasure finally subsided, I collapsed onto his chest, both of us panting, hearts racing in tandem. The room was filled with the sound of our breaths and the stillness that settled over us. I smiled, brushing my fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of him beneath me, still connected.
After a few moments of stillness, I looked into his eyes, filled with satisfaction and love. “You did amazing,” I whispered, my voice thick with affection. “You were incredible, James.”
With a soft smile playing on my lips, I grabbed the soft restraints binding his wrists and carefully began to untie him, loosening the fabric that had held him captive. “Now you’re free,” I said playfully, my fingers grazing his skin, igniting a gentle thrill.
He smiled back, eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and slight mischief. “Free for what?”
“Free to come here,” I teased, wiggling my fingers to indicate my lap, as I repositioned myself beside him on the bed. “I might have another way to reward you for being such a good boy tonight.”
He chuckled softly, pulling me close as I settled beside him, safe in the warmth of our shared moment. As I nestled against his side, I felt a mixture of intimacy and excitement swirling in the air between us, knowing this was just the beginning of many adventures we would share together.
81 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
Load!Kirk asking reader to be in an open relationship (mostly to hook up with groupies guilt free), while she’s devastated initially, she then comes out with a plan to avenge herself. At one of parties a few months later (with Kirk totally enjoying himself on tour) he finds her on Slash’s lap with guitar- Slash is teaching her to play and even promises to write her a song. Kirk is mad, but reader reminds him that open relationship works both ways, so she can sleep with whoever she wants too - so he finally understands how much he messed up and apologies?
I hope you like it!❤
Tumblr media
Open wounds
“I’ve been thinking,” Kirk said, his tone almost too casual. He leaned against the couch, his guitar resting beside him. “Maybe we should try an open relationship.”
I froze, unsure if I’d heard him correctly. “What?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding my eyes. “You know, it’d make things easier. No guilt if something happens on tour. And you’d have the same freedom.”
Freedom? That’s what he called it? My stomach twisted as the meaning sank in. I could already picture the groupies—backstage, in hotel rooms, on his lap—laughing and clinking drinks while I sat at home, trying to convince myself it didn’t mean anything.
“You don’t think this is going to hurt me?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.
His brow furrowed, like he hadn’t even considered it. “It’s not like I love you any less,” he added quickly, as if that made it better.
The betrayal stung, sharp and hot. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. “Fine,” I said, my voice cold.
His face lit up with relief. “Really? Thanks for understanding. You’re amazing.”
I sat there, silent, as he kissed my forehead and disappeared to pack for the tour. The moment the door closed, I let the tears fall.
 
The first few months were agony. Every magazine rack was a minefield. There he was on the glossy covers, headlines like “Kirk Hammett’s Wild Nights on Tour!” and “Metallica Guitarist Spotted With Mystery Blonde!” screaming at me. The photos were worse—his arms around some fan, laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world.
It was humiliating. But after weeks of stewing, I came to a decision. If Kirk wanted an open relationship, it worked both ways. I wasn’t going to sit at home playing the fool while he had all the fun. 
The afterparty was packed, smoky, and loud. The energy was electric, the high from the night’s show still buzzing through the room. Kirk was somewhere in the mix, but I wasn’t there for him.
“Here, like this,” Slash murmured, his gravelly voice close to my ear as he adjusted my fingers on his guitar. He was perched on a couch, and I was sitting sideways on his lap, my legs draped casually over his.
“Am I getting it?” I asked, letting my voice sound light and teasing.
“You’re a quick learner,” he said with a grin, his fingers brushing mine as he helped me form the chords. “Maybe I’ll write you a song someday.”
I laughed, tossing my hair over my shoulder. That’s when I saw Kirk.
He stood in the doorway, drink in hand, his dark eyes locked on me. His expression shifted—from confusion, to anger, to something more vulnerable.
“Having fun?” he asked, his voice sharp as he walked toward us.
I looked up, feigning surprise. “Oh, hey, Kirk. Didn’t see you there.”
“What’s going on here?”
Slash leaned back, his smirk as relaxed as ever. “Just teaching her a few chords. She’s got talent.”
Kirk’s jaw clenched. “You’re sitting on his lap.”
“And?” I asked, standing up and handing the guitar back to Slash, who gave me a playful wink. “This is what you wanted, remember?”
“That’s not—” he started, running a hand through his hair.
“Oh, but it is,” I said, crossing my arms. “You get to hook up with whoever you want, and so do I. Fair is fair, right?”
His face softened as the reality of his choices hit him. For the first time, I saw guilt in his eyes. “I didn’t think...”
“No, you didn’t,” I interrupted, my voice sharp. “You didn’t think about how much this would hurt me. About how humiliating it is to see you on magazine covers with some random woman. About how it would feel to be treated like I don’t matter.”
“I was selfish,” he admitted, his voice low. “I thought I could handle it. I thought it’d be easy, but... seeing you with someone else—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I hate it. I hate that I made you feel this way. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
I raised an eyebrow, letting his words hang in the air. “You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to go back to normal, Kirk.”
“I know,” he said, stepping closer. “I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. I’ll stop—everything. No more open relationships, no more groupies. I just want you.”
For a moment, I stared at him, my emotions warring inside me. Anger, sadness, and a flicker of hope.
“You’re going to have to prove it,” I said finally, my voice softer. “No more taking me for granted.”
“I will,” he promised, his eyes steady on mine. “I’ll prove it to you.”
I gave him a small smile, brushing past him. “Good. Because Slash promised me a song, and I’d hate to miss out.”
As I disappeared back into the crowd, I felt his eyes on me. For the first time in months, Kirk wasn’t the carefree rockstar surrounded by adoring fans—he was just a man who finally understood what he stood to lose.
63 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
Hi! I’m not sure if you do age gap one-shots too much, but thought I’d still ask:).
So I was having thoughts about when Metallica did the Grammys with Lady Gaga? Reader used to be one of Lady Gaga’s backup dancers. So reader is dating James and James decided to bring her to rehearsals with him one day without knowing that she used to be one of Lady Gaga’s back up dancers. Lady Gaga and reader had still been really good friends and when Metallica and her were taking a break, reader and Lady Gaga decided to just mess around a bit and do some of their old dances together. Watching the reader dance, how her body moved, and just how she let Gaga touch her (nothing sexual or anything just that casual touching dancers get sometimes from the main person), it kinda just made James realize how turned on her was by it and the second they get home he gets her to dance for him before making sweet but rough love to her?
I only do age gaps if they're over 18, if not, then I won't do his, I hope you like it!❤
Warnings: age gap, mature content, mature language, smut scenes
Tumblr media
Dancing with desire
I never thought much about my past as one of Lady Gaga's backup dancers—at least, not until James invited me to come to one of Metallica’s rehearsals with him. It was supposed to be just another day of watching him work, hanging out with him while he went over his setlist and played guitar. Simple. But I hadn’t realized how much my past with Gaga would affect the way James saw me, and I had definitely never expected it to come up in front of him, especially not in this way.
When I walked into the studio that day, I was excited, but there was a certain tension I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t anything to do with James—he had been so supportive and understanding about my time with Gaga, my dance history. But seeing her again, after all these months, brought back memories I hadn’t thought about in a long time. As soon as we locked eyes, it was like no time had passed. We slipped into our old dynamic, instantly comfortable with one another, like two dancers who had shared years of stage time and knew exactly what the other needed.
We spent the next hour running through old moves, laughing at the routines we used to perform together, a mix of playfulness and muscle memory. My body moved like it always had with her, fluid, instinctive, and without hesitation. There was nothing sexual about it—it was just the casual intimacy dancers have, that bond you form after years of being in sync. Gaga would occasionally touch my arm or guide me into a turn, and I didn’t think much of it. That kind of touch between dancers is normal, comforting even. But I could feel James watching us. I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and focused.
I tried not to pay attention, but it was hard not to notice. The way his eyes followed me, the way he stood there so still, as if he was taking in every movement I made. I thought maybe I was imagining it, but there was something different in his expression, something that felt more intense than I had ever seen before. It wasn’t just admiration anymore—it was like he was seeing me in a new light, something about my dance and my connection with Gaga awakening something inside him.
When we finally took a break, I noticed that James wasn’t saying much. He was quieter than usual, his mind clearly somewhere else. I figured he was just processing everything, but I could see the way he was looking at me, his eyes dark with something I hadn’t seen before. It was a look that made my pulse quicken, and suddenly, I wasn’t sure how to act around him. I thought maybe we’d brush it off and move on with the day, but there was a shift in the air.
When we finally got home, it was clear something had changed between us. The quiet tension that had built up earlier was now palpable. James didn’t waste any time—he came right up to me, his hands sliding around my waist as he pulled me into his arms. His eyes were still heavy with that same look from earlier, a kind of hunger that was impossible to ignore.
“Dance for me,” he said, his voice low and rough, as if it was something he had been wanting to ask but hadn’t known how.
At first, I didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t like James to ask me to do something like that—not like this. But there was something in the way he said it, something in the way he was looking at me, that made it impossible for me to say no.
I didn’t even think about it. I just put on some music and moved, letting my body take over. The movements came naturally, almost instinctively, like I was back in that studio with Gaga. Every stretch, every turn, felt like it was a part of me. But this time, every step felt different. Every movement was for James. His eyes were locked on me, and I could feel him drinking in every detail of my performance, his gaze never leaving me. The intensity in his eyes was palpable, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
It wasn’t just the dance that was making the air thick with tension; it was the way he responded to it. His hands would twitch as if he was dying to touch me, and yet he kept his distance, as if waiting for me to finish. I could tell he was barely holding it together, like he was caught between watching me and wanting me closer.
When I finally finished, breathless and flushed, I looked at him, unsure of what would come next. But James didn’t say a word. He moved toward me, his hands cupping my face, and he kissed me, slow at first, as if testing the waters. His lips were soft but demanding, like he was trying to hold on to this moment where everything had shifted between us.
But it didn’t stay slow for long. His kiss deepened, growing more urgent, and I could feel him pulling me closer, his hands sliding down to my back, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. The way he touched me now wasn’t like before—it wasn’t just about love, it was about something raw, something powerful that had built up over the course of the day. He wasn’t just kissing me; he was showing me how badly he wanted me, how much he was affected by everything he had seen, by the way my body moved, by the way I danced.
As the kiss deepened, the world around us faded into a blur. James’s hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, the heat emanating from his body setting my skin ablaze. There was an urgency in his touch, a raw need that ignited something deep within me.
“I need you,” he breathed, his voice low and commanding. The intensity in his gaze was electric, and I felt a delicious flutter in my stomach.
With a swift motion, he guided me backward until the cool leather of the couch met the backs of my thighs. I gasped as he pressed me down, his body hovering above mine, a mix of strength and desire radiating from him. “Stay right there,” he instructed, locking his eyes with mine, searching for reassurance.
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling exhilarated by the command.
James descended, his lips trailing delicate kisses down my neck, each touch igniting a trail of fire across my skin. He took his time, savoring, teasing, as if he were mapping out every inch of me. I could feel his breath hot against my skin, teasing me just enough to make my heart race with anticipation.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice thick with need, weaving intimacy into the dominance he exuded.
“I want you inside me,” I breathed, the words slick with longing. I craved the fullness of him, the wild intensity of our bodies coming together.
The look in his eyes shifted—his possessiveness deepened. He deftly shed his pants, positioning himself between my legs, powerful and commanding. “Hold on tight,” he instructed, the promise in his voice sending shivers down my spine.
With a smooth, deliberate thrust, he entered me, and my breath hitched, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled by him. The initial shock of him was intoxicating, and I gasped, pressing my palms against his chest, feeling the sheer strength in his muscles.
“Just like that,” I encouraged breathlessly, feeling the heat between us swell as he began to move, each thrust deliberate and deep. It started slow, allowing me to savor every inch, but the heat was building faster than I could keep up with.
“You feel incredible,” he grunted, his breaths growing heavier. The way he moved was a mix of tenderness and raw need, a dance that sent electric waves of pleasure shooting through me.
“James,” I gasped, my body arching instinctively beneath him. The way he looked at me, with equal parts admiration and desire, made every nerve in my body hum.
“Don’t hold back,” I urged, aching for him to unleash the intensity simmering beneath the surface. “I want all of you.”
A primal sound escaped him, something low and hungry, and without hesitation, he picked up the pace, thrusting into me with a fierceness that took my breath away. The couch shifted beneath us, the sound of skin slapping against skin merging with our breathless gasps.
“God, you’re so perfect,” he breathed, fingers digging into my hips as he thrust harder, every movement rough yet filled with an underlying sweetness that made it all the more intoxicating. He pulled the intensity from deep within himself, pouring everything he had into this moment.
The way he held me was a declaration; I belonged to him. I could feel the possessiveness in every thrust as he anchored me to the couch, his strong body hovering over mine like a shield.
“Yes, James!” I cried, surrendering fully to the pleasure coursing through me. He was relentless, pushing me to the edge and holding me there, building the tension until it felt like fireworks were sparking in my veins.
“Let go,” he commanded, his voice a low growl as his thrusts grew more urgent, more desperate. “I want to feel you falling apart around me.”
The pressure mounted, every powerful thrust of his driving me closer to the brink. I could feel myself spiraling, caught between the pleasure and the intoxicating grip of his control.
“James!” I gasped, the wave of release crashing into me like a torrent, tears of pleasure escaping the corners of my eyes as I surrendered completely. My body quaked around him, and I felt every bit of him pulsing inside me.
He followed right after, his groan echoing through the room, a rich sound that vibrated deep within me as we tumbled over the edge together. The world blurred, our bodies melding into one as we rode the waves of ecstasy, the rawness of our connection leaving me utterly breathless.
As we finally came down from our high, the world around us faded into a comfortable stillness. I lay wrapped in James's arms, his warmth radiating against my skin. He brushed my hair back from my forehead, and the tenderness of the gesture made my heart swell.
“You were incredible,” he whispered, his voice soft but thick with emotion, like he needed me to know just how much I meant to him in that moment.
I smiled, my cheeks warming as I melted against him. “So were you.” I could still feel the echoes of our intensity, every beat of my heart resonating with the connection we’d just forged.
He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’ve waited so long for this,” he murmured, the gravity of his words wrapping around us like a heavy curtain. “You have no idea how much I needed you.”
His confession sent a thrill through me, igniting something deeper than just physical desire. “I’m glad it was you,” I whispered back, feeling the weight of vulnerability in the air between us.
In that moment, everything else faded away. The laughter, the struggles, the world outside—none of it mattered. It was just us, two souls fully entwined in a dance that felt both sweet and consuming.
We lay there, quiet and content, each breath we shared a silent promise of what was to come. The connection we had discovered pulsed between us, a newfound anchor amidst the chaos of life.
58 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 3 months ago
Text
Since I love November, I couldn't help but write something about the vibes it gives me. Anyway, I got this idea while I was walking in a park.
Tumblr media
Wrapped in love
The November air bites at my skin, and I pull my scarf tighter around my neck, wishing I'd grabbed something heavier than my thin coat. The park is almost empty now, with only a few stray leaves dancing in the wind. James walks beside me, his steps steady, matching mine without a word. The trees are bare, their limbs reaching up to the gray sky, and the world feels still, like it's holding its breath in the cold.
I shiver, my breath puffing out in little clouds, and James glances over at me, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Are you cold?" His voice is soft, but I can hear the concern in it.
I shake my head quickly, trying to brush it off. "No, I'm fine. Really. It's not that bad."
But he looks at me, his eyes soft and searching, and his expression softens even more. "Y/n," he says, his tone quiet but firm. "You're freezing. Come here."
Before I can protest, he's already pulling off his sheepskin coat, the familiar warmth of it making me smile a little even before it's wrapped around me. It smells like him—like leather and something else I can't quite name—and it feels like home.
"James, I'm okay," I begin, but he's not hearing it. He carefully drapes the coat over my shoulders, his fingers brushing against my skin, and I feel the warmth seep into me immediately. But it's more than just the coat. It's the way he looks at me—tender, like he wants to take care of me, like he *always* wants to take care of me.
His hands linger for just a moment on the collar, adjusting it around my neck, and I can't help but watch him. There's no rush, no hurry. Just him, looking at me with that soft affection I've come to know so well.
"You're shivering," he says quietly, his voice low, full of concern. "I'm not going to let you freeze."
I smile at him, my heart fluttering at how much he means it. I move closer, pulling the coat tighter around me and instinctively stepping a little nearer to him, wanting to share the warmth he's offering me.
"Don't freeze because of me," I murmur, pressing a hand against his arm.
James looks down at me, his expression softening even more, and I feel that little spark between us—a quiet, intimate connection that's always been there, but now feels a little more special. The way his fingers graze my cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear makes my breath catch. I don't even try to hide the smile that spreads across my face.
"I'll survive," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you're the one I'm worried about."
I pull the coat tighter around me and shift just a little closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder for a moment. It feels natural, like this is exactly where I'm supposed to be.
"Thank you," I say softly, my voice full of affection, of trust, and more than just gratitude for the coat.
James's lips curl into that familiar smile, the one that always makes my heart race. "Anything for you," he says, the words carrying a weight that makes my chest feel full.
I look up at him, feeling the love between us in the air, and for a moment, I just want to stay like this forever. In this little bubble where nothing else matters but the two of us.
"I think you're right," I tease softly. "It does look better on me."
James laughs, the sound rich and warm, and he leans in to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I don't mind," he says with a grin. "I'll just have to steal it back later."
I roll my eyes playfully, but the truth is, I never want to give the coat back. It's not just the coat that makes me feel warm, though. It's him. "Always him."
We sit on a bench beneath a bare tree, the last of the leaves fluttering around us. I'm still wrapped in the coat, and for a long moment, neither of us speaks. I can feel his presence next to me—so familiar, so comforting. The way he looks at me, the way his hand brushes against mine, like we've always been this close.
Finally, I whisper, "I'm keeping it. For tonight."
James smiles that sweet, knowing smile. "Keep it as long as you need," he murmurs. "I don't mind being the one who's cold for a while, as long as you're warm."
And just like that, the world fades a little—just the two of us, the cold night, and a coat that's shared.
Suddenly, I feel like I can't leave him in suspense any longer. Without thinking, I lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. It's gentle, full of affection, and when I pull back, I see the surprise in his eyes. But it's not awkward; instead, he smiles, warmth radiating from him in a way that only makes me love him more.
"Thank you," I whisper again, my voice barely more than a breath. But this time, it's not just for the coat. It's for everything. For the love he gives me, for the way he cares, for the way he makes me feel like I'm the most important person in the world.
James pulls me into a hug then, strong and sure, wrapping his arms around me like he never wants to let go. I bury my face into his chest, feeling safe and loved, my heart swelling in my chest.
"Always, Y/n. I'll always take care of you," he murmurs into my hair.
And with him holding me like this, wrapped up in the warmth of his embrace, I know—I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.
67 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
heeyy can you do a fic about Dave and fem reader getting caught in the act for their child? Like a bit of smut and then comedy fluff, please
Thanks!
I hope you like it!❤
Tumblr media
Tangled up in trouble
It all started with a look.
Dave had been giving me that maddeningly smug grin all day—the one that made my stomach flutter no matter how long we’d been together. It started during dinner, where he kept brushing his knee against mine under the table, and it only escalated as we cleaned up. His hand lingered on my waist a second too long; his lips brushed the shell of my ear when he whispered, “Need help?”
By the time we finally crawled into bed, I was done playing coy.
“Do you always have to be such a menace?” I teased as I slipped under the covers.
Dave smirked, climbing in after me and pulling me close. “You love it.”
“Do I?”
He didn’t answer with words, just a kiss that stole my breath. His hands roamed my body, sliding under my shirt to find bare skin. I sighed, melting into him as his lips trailed down my neck.
“Been thinking about this all day,” he murmured against my skin.
I laughed softly, tangling my fingers in his hair. “Between all the chaos with the kids?”
“All of it,” he said, his voice low and heated.
His kisses grew more insistent, his hands working with a practiced ease to tug my shirt off, followed by the rest of my clothes. He hovered over me, his gaze dark with affection and desire.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his lips brushing against mine.
I arched into him, breathless as his touch ignited every nerve ending. “Less talking, more action,” I managed to gasp.
He chuckled but obeyed, trailing kisses down my body as his hands coaxed soft moans from my lips. Every movement was deliberate, his focus solely on me, and it wasn’t long before I was trembling beneath him, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer.
When he kissed his way back up, his grin was both tender and smug. “You okay?”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t hide the smile tugging at my lips. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love it,” he repeated, leaning down for another kiss.
But just as things were heating up again, the door creaked open.
“Mom? Dad?”
The sound of her voice was like a bucket of cold water.
Dave froze, his head snapping toward the door like a deer caught in headlights. I barely had time to yank the blanket up to cover us before our six-year-old daughter shuffled into the room, clutching her stuffed bunny.
“What are you doing?” she asked, blinking sleepily.
“Uh—” My brain flatlined.
“Wrestling!” Dave blurted out, sitting up carefully to keep the blanket in place.
I turned to glare at him. Wrestling? That was the best he could come up with?
“Wrestling?” she repeated, tilting her head.
“Y-Yeah!” I said, nodding like a lunatic. “Daddy’s really bad at it, so I was winning.”
Dave shot me a look that screamed Are you serious?, but I ignored him.
Our daughter frowned, clutching her bunny tighter. “Why was Mommy saying your name like that?”
My face burned, and I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Dave cleared his throat, scrambling for an answer. “Uh… because I was losing! And, uh, begging for mercy!”
Her frown deepened. “Mommy sounded mad. Was she mad at you?”
“No!” I said quickly, laughing nervously. “Not mad. Just… frustrated! Because I was winning. Right, Dave?”
“Right,” he agreed, nodding too quickly.
She looked between us, clearly skeptical, before sighing. “If you’re not mad, why were you making all that noise?”
Dave’s eyes went wide, and I buried my face in my hands, praying for the earth to swallow me whole.
“I—uh—we’re just loud wrestlers!” Dave said, his voice a little too cheerful. “It’s very competitive.”
Our daughter stared at us for a moment longer before shrugging. “Okay. But you woke me up. Next time, wrestle quieter.”
With that, she turned and padded back to her room, leaving the door wide open behind her.
The second she was out of sight, I collapsed onto the bed, covering my face with a groan.
“Loud wrestlers?” I repeated, my voice muffled by my hands.
“Hey, I panicked!” Dave shot back, flopping onto his back beside me.
“You panicked? You’re the one who said we were wrestling! Who even says that?”
Dave grinned, turning to face me. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “We’re never living this down.”
“Definitely not.” He pulled me into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “But for the record, you were winning.”
“Damn right I was.
As I nestled against him, I sighed, exhaustion creeping in. Parenthood had its challenges, and interruptions like this were just part of the chaos. But moments like this—messy, awkward, and hilarious—reminded me why I wouldn’t trade our life for anything.
Next time, though, the door would be locked.
64 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
Hi! Can I request a load era Kirk x wife!reader when he suggests (as a joke, but he’s playing it very seriously) thathe wants a “hall pass” to hook with a famous model or groupie to “spice up” their marriage cause to him, life has become boring; maybe Lars or James done it and now Kirk wants to try it too. She’s humiliated and threatens to divorce him - but he thinks she’s just joking too. He leaves for studio but then he comes back he finds that she left, but before she filled the divorce papers and called him a hooker for his “hall pass”? And he realizes that she took it seriously and feels stupid?
I hope you like it!❤
Tumblr media
A pass too far
I didn’t know how it happened, but somewhere along the way, things started feeling... off. Our routine had become predictable, and I wasn’t blind to the way Kirk had started pulling away. He was restless, like he was missing something. And I tried, I really did, to make things exciting again. But no matter what I did, it felt like he wasn’t really here.
That night, when we sat down for dinner, I thought maybe we could have a conversation about it—maybe he’d finally open up, share what was on his mind. I didn’t expect the bomb he dropped.
“So, babe,” Kirk started, a little too casually, like he was testing the waters, “I’ve been thinking.”
My stomach fluttered a little, expecting him to say something like, "I love you," or maybe "Let’s take a vacation." Instead, what he said next made me freeze.
“I think we should spice things up a little,” he continued, his grin playful, “What if you gave me a hall pass?”
I blinked, sure I hadn’t heard him right. “A what?”
“A hall pass,” he repeated, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He leaned back in his chair, looking almost pleased with himself, “You know, like a free pass to hook up with a model or a groupie. You know, like Lars and James do. They do it, so why not me?”
I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. This had to be some kind of joke. But the more I looked at his face, the more I realized he was completely serious. The smirk on his lips told me he wasn’t joking.
My chest tightened. I could feel the blood draining from my face as I tried to process what he was saying. A hall pass? To sleep with someone else? He was seriously asking me for this? Was he out of his mind?
My thoughts were racing, trying to make sense of it, but all I could manage to say was, “Are you kidding?”
“No, I’m not,” he said, almost too easily, as if this was just another idea he’d thrown out. “I just think, you know, things have gotten kind of boring. A little spice would be good for both of us, don’t you think? We could try something new.”
My hands were shaking now. I pushed my chair back and stood up, the anger rising in my chest. “So, let me get this straight,” I said, my voice trembling, “You want me to just give you permission to go fuck some random woman, and you think that’ll ‘spice things up’ for us?”
He shrugged, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah, why not? It’s not like it means anything. It could be fun.”
Fun? My stomach turned. I had never felt so small in my entire life. “So I’m supposed to just let you do that, right?” I laughed bitterly, the sound of it breaking through my shock. “Like I’m just supposed to sit here while you go out and hook up with someone else because you think our marriage is boring?”
“I’m just saying, it could work,” he added, his voice too casual for the storm raging inside me.
I shook my head, backing away from the table. The words caught in my throat, but the anger in my chest was making it hard to breathe. I had no idea how we’d gotten here, how I’d ended up here, with him suggesting that I just let him have some kind of free pass to do whatever he wanted. It was humiliating, and I felt every bit of that humiliation rising in my throat.
“No,” I said, my voice trembling with fury. “No way, Kirk. If you think I’m going to just sit here and let you do that, you’re out of your mind. That’s not how this works. I’m not your fucking hooker, Kirk. And if this is what you want, then I’m done. I’m done.”
His face shifted slightly, but he didn’t seem to fully grasp how serious I was. “Come on, babe, it’s just a joke. Don’t overreact. You’re being dramatic.”
I felt my heart break. "Dramatic?" I repeated, my voice shaking with disbelief. “You seriously think I’m being dramatic? You want to sleep with someone else, and I’m the one overreacting?”
“You’re not overreacting,” he said, finally standing up. “I’m just saying it could be fun—”
“No,” I cut him off, taking a step back. “You’re serious, and I’m not sticking around for this. If you want that, go ahead. But I’m done. We’re done.”
He didn’t try to stop me. He didn’t reach for me or beg me to stay. Instead, he just looked at me with this confused, almost smug expression, like he thought I was the one being ridiculous.
I grabbed my bag, the tears threatening to spill, but I was too angry to let them fall. I didn’t want him to see me break. Not like this. Not over something so stupid.
“I’m filing the divorce papers,” I said, my voice steady but cold. “And don’t bother trying to talk me out of it. You wanted a hall pass, Kirk. You can have it. But I’m not your second choice. I won’t be your joke.”
I left, slamming the door behind me, not caring about the sound or the chaos it left in my wake.
The next morning, I filed the divorce papers. I couldn’t believe it had come to this, but how could I stay with someone who thought so little of me? The worst part was, I had a feeling he didn’t even understand what he’d just done.
I thought about leaving him a note, but the words just came out so easily, so honestly. “I’m not your hooker, Kirk. Goodbye.”
I didn’t expect it to hit me like that.
I walked into the house after a long day at the studio, the sound of guitars and drums still echoing in my mind. The band's been busy with the new album, and there's always something brewing—something new to get excited about. But today, something felt off, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. The house was quieter than usual. Too quiet.
I called out for her, but no response. Maybe she’d stepped out. Maybe she was out running errands. But no, something didn’t sit right. I walked through the house, checking every room, but there was no sign of her. Nothing.
Then I saw it.
The envelope on the kitchen table. My name was scrawled across it in that familiar handwriting. My stomach twisted.
I opened it without thinking, pulling the paper out. But when my eyes scanned the words, I felt a sudden wave of nausea.
“I’m not your hooker, Kirk. Goodbye.”
I read it again, blinking hard, as if doing so would make it all make sense. Goodbye? No, she couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t. My mind raced as I looked down at the divorce papers that fell out alongside the note. The room started to feel smaller, the air thinner.
I stumbled back a step, trying to make sense of what I was holding. My heart pounded in my chest. She’d really left. It was real. She was gone, and it was my fault.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, staring at the papers in my hand, still trying to wrap my head around it. My mind kept circling back to what I’d said earlier—the joke. It was supposed to be a joke. A stupid joke. But I didn’t realize how deeply it had cut her. How it had destroyed something that should’ve been sacred to both of us.
I felt like a damn fool. But I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know if I could.
Without thinking, I grabbed the phone from the wall, dialing the number I knew all too well. My hands shook as I punched in the digits, my mind screaming for her to pick up. She had to. She had to hear me out.
The phone rang, each ring feeling like a punch in my gut. I tried to steady my breath. She’ll answer, she’ll answer, I thought, but the ringing only grew louder in my ear, more deafening.
And then... it stopped. A dial tone.
I hung up, staring at the receiver in my hand. I didn’t even know what I’d say to her. What could I even say? The words felt useless, like a pathetic excuse for what I’d done.
My chest tightened, and for the first time, the gravity of everything hit me.
I didn’t know when I had become so careless. I didn’t know when I started thinking it was okay to make jokes like that. To push her away. But now, standing in this empty house, I understood.
The tears came, unbidden, but I didn’t try to stop them. There was nothing left to say. I had everything I wanted, all the fame, the music, the tours... But I had never understood how much I needed her—how much I loved her—until it was too late.
And now? Now I was alone. A fool, sitting in a house filled with echoes of things I could never get back.
I looked back at the divorce papers, the words dancing in front of me, almost mocking me. How could I have been so stupid?
I picked up the phone again, but I didn’t dial. I couldn’t. She wasn’t going to pick up. She was gone, and I had no idea if she’d ever come back.
53 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago
Note
Hello I hope you are doing well))
I saw this gif of James from 2010s when he talks about having a crush on his teacher in high school and says “I always had a thing for blondes”. And reader has dark hair so she’s very sad to hear that; she was always insecure about not being a a typical rockstar wife - tall, blonde, hot - she starts to avoid being intimate with him, going to events, etc as she feels that he married her only cause she she helped him after rehab in early 2000s, like he felt obliged to her?
James doesn’t notice until he says the exact same thing in the other interview, so she finally snaps? And tells him that if he likes blondes do much she can give him a divorce first thing tomorrow? They argue but next day James makes breakfast and he understood that he messed up and they make up?
Hello, I wish you're fine too. I hope you like it!❤
Tumblr media
Not what you think
 The static hum of the TV filled the room as I sat curled up on the couch, flipping absently through channels. James was in the studio today, working on another project. The house felt too quiet without him, and my thoughts had been anything but. I stopped on a talk show, a familiar host grinning as he introduced his guest. The screen lit up with James’ face, that easy smile of his pulling a laugh from the audience. I couldn’t help but smile a little too.
Then it happened.
The host asked about high school crushes, and James, always quick with a candid answer, laughed as he said, “Oh, I had the biggest crush on my history teacher. She was blonde, of course. I always had a thing for blondes.”
The audience laughed along, but the words hit me like a gut punch.
Blondes. Of course.
I turned off the TV, throwing the remote onto the couch with more force than necessary. My heart sank as I sat there, staring blankly at the dark screen. I felt a hot lump rise in my throat, and my chest tightened with that familiar ache I hated so much. It was stupid, wasn’t it? Just an offhand comment, a joke. It didn’t mean anything. But no matter how much I tried to rationalize it, I couldn’t stop the spiral.
I glanced at my reflection in the glass of the fireplace. Dark hair, average height, not much of anything special. Certainly not the statuesque, sun-kissed women James seemed to joke about—women I’d seen backstage at shows, in the magazines, or walking down the street with their effortless beauty. The kind of women who looked like they belonged next to someone like him.
I’d never been that. Never would be.
James didn’t marry me for that, I reminded myself, and for a moment, the thought brought me some comfort. But then another thought crept in, colder and harsher: Did he marry me because he felt like he owed me? I had been there for him,  during one of the darkest periods of his life. I’d helped him through rehab, held him together when he was falling apart. Maybe���maybe he stayed with me out of gratitude, not love.
The ache in my chest deepened. What if I was just…safe? Reliable? The sensible choice?
I didn’t go to the studio that night like I usually would. I didn’t call him either. Instead, I busied myself with mindless tasks around the house, hoping that by the time James came home, I’d be able to act like everything was fine.
Weeks passed, but the weight of that comment lingered. It wasn’t just the comment itself—it was everything it brought to the surface. I started avoiding events, skipping out on dinners and parties where I knew I’d feel like an outsider among the blonde, model-perfect wives and girlfriends. I stopped initiating intimacy, pulling away whenever James tried to get close.
“You okay?” he asked one night, his voice soft with concern as he reached for my hand. I pulled it away before I could think better of it.
“Just tired,” I lied, forcing a weak smile. “Long day.”
He frowned but didn’t push. That was James: patient, understanding. It made me feel worse.
The breaking point came during another interview. I’d been flipping through channels again, my curiosity getting the better of me. There he was, laughing and charming the audience. It was almost the exact same question as before, and as if on cue, he said it again.
“Blondes. Yeah, I always had a thing for blondes.”
The remote slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor. I stared at the screen, my stomach twisting in knots. I couldn’t do this anymore.
When James got home that evening, I was waiting for him in the living room. My heart was pounding in my chest, my hands trembling as I clenched them tightly in my lap. He walked in with his usual easy smile, but it faltered when he saw the look on my face.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned about coloring his voice.
I stood up, crossing my arms tightly over my chest as if that could hold me together.
“If you like blondes so much, maybe I should give you the chance to be with one,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “We can call a lawyer first thing tomorrow.”
James froze, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”
I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “I’m talking about how I’ll never be what you really want. You’ve made it pretty clear, haven’t you? I see the way you look at those women, James. I hear what you say about blondes. And then there’s me. The charity case.”
“Charity case?” he repeated, his voice rising in disbelief. “Y/N, this is stupid. It was just a joke, alright? Blondes don’t mean anything.”
“Don’t you dare!” I snapped, my voice cracking. “You don’t think it matters? Do you have any idea how insecure that makes me feel? I’m supposed to be okay with that? Do you know what it’s like to feel like I’m just not good enough because I’m not blonde, or tall, or anything like those women you always joke about?”
James stepped forward, frustration flashing in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I was just being stupid on TV. But you're acting like I’ve been telling you I don’t love you or something.”
“Isn’t that what it feels like?” I shot back, feeling the tears burn in my eyes. “You always joke about them, about the ‘perfect’ women, and I’m here—trying to make this work with someone who doesn’t even seem to notice what he’s doing to me.”
He looked like he was about to say something, but I held up a hand, cutting him off. “I don’t want to talk anymore, James. I just can’t right now.”
Without another word, I turned and stormed off, locking myself in our bedroom. I collapsed onto the bed, the sobs wracking through me as everything I’d kept inside for so long spilled out. I could hear James’ voice faintly on the other side of the door, but I couldn’t face him. Not yet.
The next morning, I woke to the smell of coffee and something sweet wafting through the air. I sniffed the air, a faint sense of warmth and comfort tugging at me. When I walked into the kitchen, James was standing at the stove, his hair messy, wearing his usual sleep shirt and sweatpants. The table was set with a plate of pancakes, freshly cut fruit, and a steaming cup of coffee.
He turned when he heard me, and his face softened. “Morning,” he said quietly, though his voice was a little raw. “I, uh… made us breakfast.”
I stared at him for a long moment, still feeling the weight of last night’s argument, but the gesture caught me off guard. He set the pan down and walked over to me, taking my hands gently in his. “I’m sorry, Y/N. For what I said. I was being an idiot. I never meant to make you feel like that. I never wanted you to feel less than. You are everything to me, and I know I messed up. I know I’ve hurt you.”
Tears pricked at my eyes again as he continued. “You are so special to me. You’re the one I chose. And I was stupid for not realizing how deeply it was affecting you. Please, forgive me.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “I was just scared, James. Scared that maybe you wanted someone else… someone who fits better.”
He cupped my face gently, brushing away the tears. “You fit me perfectly, Y/N. You always have. I don’t need anyone else. Only you.”
I leaned into his touch, my breath shaky. The ache in my chest started to fade as I allowed myself to believe him. When he pulled me into a hug, I melted into his arms, letting myself feel the warmth of his love, the strength of his sincerity.
“Let’s eat,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Together.”
57 notes · View notes