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njpuckbunny · 1 year

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Heyy! Could you please do some friends to lovers (smut) with Kirk? Like, mutual pinning but they’re both idiots so the band helps them get together (sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language)

Cuz That’s What Friends Do, Right?

Kirk Hammett x AFAB!Reader (y/n)

a/n: I LITERALLY LOVE U SO MUCH FOR THIS PLEASE THIS IS MY FAV REQUEST EVER. I HOPE U ENJOY IT <33

warnings: mutual pining, p in v, unprotected sex, greasy kirk era , sir kink, dominant!kirk, sub!reader, afab reader, smut, and metallica being a matchmaker

holy shit.

“I have some big news guys,” you began, ready for your band's input on this news, “we’re gonna be opening for Metallica for their new tour.”

A mix of anxious and happy remarks filled the room from the rest of your band.

Your lead guitarist replied to your information with a slightly rude comment, “is this just because you fuck around with Kirk, or did we actually earn it?”

You were seriously taken aback by her comment but replied quickly, “Me and Kirk are nothing but friends, and I'm sure he mentioned us, but we earned this spot. Pack your bags to meet at the bus station.”

Honestly, you were pretty worried about this. Being an all girl-band with yourself as the bassist and lead singer? It wouldn’t be easy to earn the public’s respect. You had been friends with Kirk ever since you stepped foot into highschool. Kirk was off to the side and calm, while you were anxious and trying to leave as soon as possible. You claim it as fate, but Kirk always said you were gonna trip in front of him anytime “cuz of his beauty.” Long story short, you were carrying your books to a new class and were looking down at your schedule when you bumped into Kirk. He helped you pick up your books and you exchanged family phone numbers. You couldn’t count the times when you told your older sister to get off of the phone trying to call her favorite rockstars phony numbers. You and Kirk called hours and hours on end and you honestly just felt like he was your better half.

So when he joined Exodus, you were more than happy to cheer him on to pursue his dreams. You both promised that whoever got more famous first, the other had to open for their band.

Right after Kirk was chosen for Metallica, you started your own band R.O.P.E. You could’ve sworn it stood for something, but you were too high to remember.

But now that you were touring with Metallica? You didn’t know if you could hide it for any longer…. yea about that. Ever since sophomore year started, you had developed a massive crush on Kirk. It wasn’t like it was obvious… was it?

Definitely not. And it didn’t matter cuz he didn’t like you back. End. Of. Story.

But tonight might change how you saw him, maybe you just see him as a friend now. Right?

WRONG

The moment you stepped onto the bus and saw his smile. Ugh, You melted. And it doesn’t mean just inside, you blushed, flushed, you could’ve sworn you developed a fever right there and melted into a puddle of nothing on the ground.

You heard whistling, and your name, and your name again,

“Hey! y/n,” it was kirk, motioning you over to the back of the bus. His leg was over an empty seat, saving it for you, just like he did on the bus home.

Yes. You guys took the same bus. Dumbass Kirk would get off at your house some days (literally everyday) and listen to cds and cassettes with you all evening because he didn’t want to go home.

Sometimes he would fall asleep with you on your bed and you’d wake up with your limbs entangled and Kirk sleeping as heavy as he could.

cuz that’s what friends do? Right?

After what felt like an hour of admiring his features, you moved your way back to the back of the bus and talked with Kirk.

You couldn’t help but notice the way your legs bounced oh so close together. You wanted your legs wrapped around his waist as he—-

“y/n?” “hello??” Kirk exclaimed as he clapped in front of your face.

“Sorry,” you sputtered, “I'm really nervous about tonight.”

He sincerely put his palm over your knee and comfortingly spoke, “you’ve got nothin’ to worry about sweetheart, you’re gonna kill it.”

You muttered a thanks and Kirk gave you a grin, god he was going to be the death of you. To combat your love for Kirk and nerves for the show, you decided to take a nap.

When you awoke, it was basically time for you and your band to get ready for the opening act. You dressed in your signature style and made sure that your instrument matched your clothes. As you turned to check if everything was in place you saw the scar that lined your bicep. When you were at highschool prom, waiting for your ride home, some jerk on the side of the road “accidentally” sliced you with a pocket knife. Just as you were about to fight back, Kirk rode up in his mom’s car and punched the guy right in the face. That was your first scar, and Kirks’ first punch. (that he gave).

In the time you were reminiscing, the time you had to check yourself was up and your band was ready to play the opening act.

As you stepped out onto the stage, you were quickly blinded by the lights and tried to blink away the blots to see the crowd. The microphone feedback whined as you approached it. You spoke loudly into it as you addressed the crowd to play your first song.

time skip to after the opening act!

You hopped off the stage and gave Kirk a pat on the back as he hugged you and told you what an amazing job you did. You thanked him and wished him is own luck before he stopped you.

“y/n I—“ but he was interrupted by the que that he should get on stage, so he just yelled as he was pushed onto the stage, “see me after the show!”

what the fuck?

And Metallica's show? Fucking Outrageous.

The way that Kirk’s fingers slid up and down on the frets as he played the solos and the way his pants rode up his form as he rutted against the guitar.

Your whole mind was flooded with unholy thoughts as the show went on.

You traveled back to the living room behind the stage as you waited for everyone to get off stage. As they piled into the room you individually congratulated all of them for the amazing performance. Until your eyes landed on Kirk….. oh fuckkkk.

You could’ve sworn that your whole body shut down right then and there. Like, how the fuck did he look so hot after playing the most tiring set??? It was seriously bothering you.

James spoke through the thick fog of tension first, “okay, Lars, Cliff, and I are gonna go wash up, see y’all later.”

You heard a click come from outside the door that was previously closed by James, accompanied with outside chuckles.

“What the fuck,” you started, “did they lock us in here?”

Kirk pulled on the door handle and pounded on the door. He nodded and scoffed to himself.

You spoke at the same time,

“Kirk—“

“Y/N—-“

You quickly apologized and let Kirk speak first.

It all came out in one fast blur from his mouth, “Y/n, before the show I wanted to tell you everything you meant to me and I didn’t think you felt like same until James locked—-“

You shut him up by pushing him up against the nearest wall and pressing your lips to his.

“Shut up—“ your remarks got cut off by Kirk picking you up and setting you down on the couch that was pressed against the furthest wall of the room.

He spoke through the silence, “tell me what you want.”

“Please touch me“

“Please what?”

“Sir.”

He nodded in agreement as his fingers trailed down your waist while he got on his knees. He pulled down your pants and threw them across the room while he took off his shirt. He grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulders as he looked up at you from your cunt. Agonizingly slow, he placed a finger on your clit, and inserted his tongue into you.

You whined, “kirk— please”

“shhh sweetheart i’ll take care of you.”

sweetheart.

His finger began making circles as his tongue lapped your juices. Your fingers entangled his curls as he worked you up to your climax.

“Kirk I’m gonna—-“

“No,” He pulled off of you and flipped you onto your stomach while taking off his pants and your shirt.

You pleaded again, but he spoke over, “you’ll cum when I tell you to.”

Breaking the dominance he asked you for your comfort, “Do you want this?”

You replied faster than he finished talking, “yes. sir.”

“Good.”

He inserted his cock deep into your cunt, already slick from him eating you out. His thrusts were hard and snapping onto your ass. He grabbed a fistful of your hair as your back arched upon his cock. The new angle was letting him bottom out, only making you feel higher to your climax.

You began to beg, “please sir. I wanna come , so bad. Please.”

“Okay, ready sweetheart,” Kirk answered.

You mumbled an mhm and you both let yourselves go as he fucked out his climax and his thrusts became sloppy. You both panted on the large couch you laid on, smiling at each other.

Kirk broke the silence first, “I love you, that’s what I was going to say before the show.”

He looked at you with puppy eyes and you responded, “I love you too,” as you kissed him on the lips again.

A few moments when by of you two gathering the moments happiness before you heard a knock and James speak, “It’s about time you two fucked.”

#kirk hammett x you #kirk hammett #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett smut #metallica #metallica imagines #rock star #metal #metal head #metal imagine

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idyllic333dreams · 3 months

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Do you guys ever think about a Young Tom Araya dirty talking in spanish to his S/o..... no?

Oh...now you Will think about it....

#Tom Araya Smut #Metal imagine #slayer band #tom araya

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astrhae · 9 months

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crowley used the metal tool in season 1 to start time, and we learn that he's used it first to start space. to create the stars -- he still remembers how. he still remembers all of heaven's passwords: in the book crowley is described as an optimist because he has the "utter surety... that the universe would look after him". not god, but the universe. and of course he does: he helped create it and he's looking after it, too.

think about it: aziraphale had a sword, but crowley is about to face satan who wants to destroy the world, and crowley's only weapon is a tool of creation

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trannyposting · 4 months

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You're Listening to

*pickle jar opens refreshingly*

102.3

*communist theme song*

TRANSFEM RADIO!

*meow*

WHERE WE PLAY NOTHING BUT SAD FOLK MUSIC, METAL, AND HYPERPOP

*moaning and cartoon running sound effect simultaneously*

THIS ISN'T YOUR DEADNAME'S STATION

*Radioactive- Imagine Dragons starts playing*

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bisclavaret · 10 months

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holds him like a coke can

#metal gear solid #mgs #solid snake #Otacon #furry #metal gear furry #my art #not sure abt snakes design yet #but I’m rly liking angora ferret Otacon #normally I’d draw him more equal in size but…#funny to imagine him small #and more perfectly ferret-y

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samodivaa · 1 month

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Bucky x Reader : He holds you in a metal chokehold while fucking you from behind. (smut, choking)

He is sick with conflict, possessive emotions fester in him while he molds his front to your back, his cock nudges around your ass cheeks, to your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead glides through your delicate folds. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you, burying himself to the hilt. There is a certain satisfaction in pounding you from behind as the metal arm tightens around your nape, holding you close to him. Your walls are squelching around as you hear him murmur his voice as sweet and rich as honey. And his lusty grin when he says curses in Russian, it is sinful—and pleasurable, drawing a muffled scream from your throat as he starts to thrust more rapidly, setting a demanding rhythm.

Your sexual attraction to him has been heightened beyond measure, as much as you try to hide it, the lust is getting greater than any other feeling or emotion. Every part of him is heightened to you now...his voice included—you can’t help it as your body reacts to the stimulation, head spinning as you barely get a sip of oxygen despite your gasping.

It’s the closest thing to magic for him—teeth dragging against your neck, living marks, his consciousness vanishing and deforming itself into something primal, there is a delicious animal fire in his gaze which he is glad that you can’t see.

He flexes his human fingers and tries to fight the urge to stop rubbing your clit—but then his fingers slithers over your chest, warm digits immediately finding your breasts and he starts to massage them for his own pleasure. It is a possessive gesture, and he feels a little bit possessive—but he needs to keep his fingers on your clit, rubbing, pinching the sensitive bud between his fingers. So he does. He imagines the sinful sight each time he buries the length of his cock all the way inside you, shaft slick and wet and glistening when he pulls it out, only to slam himself back inside. You grip his metal arm which is gutting your vocal chords, and all you manage is a small gasp. When he loosens his grip, the rush of blood and oxygen to the brain results in an explosion of dopamine, followed by a shamelessly loud moan from your lips. “That’s it, doll—you like this?” His voice is warm and low. Intimate.

You catch sight of him from your peripheral vision, his eyes closed, his lips are silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hand massages your clit, the way he fucks you. And you thought that he chose that position, because he is embarrassed from fulfilling your idea, but he is not—he wants to disguise from you how much he is enjoying himself. His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind. It is an igniting feeling to have so much control over your body. “I love you, but I want you all to myself” His hand closes around your neck again, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. His growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length. Your back arches as you feel an orgasm approaching, letting out a desperate moan, because you’re powerless…utterly at his mercy and that’s what makes you cum—his voice sends shudders through your body, reacting in all the right ways to the words. “Bucky-”

The moment you say his name, he is lost. Can’t control himself. You are his. Nobody else's. With that thought on his brain he let himself go. Frantically, he slams into you and you meet every thrust head-on, human fingers gripping your hip so tightly that phantom bruises appear.

#metal arm kink fr #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine

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ikarakie · 1 year

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tw / roofies

after corroded coffin goes big, sometime in the mid 90s, they go on tour. mostly in smaller venues and little dive bars, but eddie fucking loves it. drags robin and steve along with him as his 'managers' (see: freeloaders) mainly because he wanted his boyfriend with him and knew he couldn't keep birdie away from him for that prolonged period of time. it would be cruel.

mid-way through the tour, they perform in a bar. eddie likes to mill around after, chat to fans, get a drink, sign things, peacock a little. this time is no different. until robin comes up to him, noticeably alone. he asks where steve is at the same time she does. not fucking good.

they both scour the bar, and eddie's about two seconds away from ripping his hair out when robin grabs his arm and points to a booth in the corner. it's filled with girls, all in battle vests and dark eye makeup, and nestled between two of them on one side is steve. he's slumped over, head rested on the table, pillowed by one of the girl's hoodies. there's an empty glass beside another half empty one, both seemingly water. he rushes over.

they're a bit surprised to see him. when he asks after steve, they regard him with fucking suspicion. he has to show them the polaroid he carries around with him to make them soften. they explain they'd spotted him looking a bit dazed, and called him over. he'd told them he thought someone, somewhere, had slipped something in his drink and he couldn't find his friend, and so they'd squished him between them to keep him safe. eddie feels his heart burst, especially seeing the little corroded coffin pins on all their jackets and bags.

he gently shakes steve awake, presses a kiss to his temple and hands him off to robin, who carefully escorts him to the back exit where their van is parked. thanks the girls, profusely. they try to wave him off but he refuses to leave until he has all their names, has signed at least one thing for each of them and taken a photo with them on their camera.

years and years and years down the line, he still mentions them in interviews. by name. gushes about how they're the original corroded coffin fans, how dearly he loves them, and how if anyone is allowed to gatekeep in his fandom, it's them. every time he sees them at barrier for a concert he fucking lights up and calls them out. they're hailed by fans as minor celebrities, even. only they, steve (who calls them each every holiday and has actually become fucking friends with them) and robin know why they're so close.