#jameshetfield one shot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nausicaamusiclover20 · 5 days ago

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I had this fantasy all day and I couldn't help but write it down

Paring: !ProfessorxStudent!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Explicit Content, Mature Themes,Sexual Content, mature language, Age Gap (15-year difference) Power Imbalance, Adult Themes

Playing with fire

The university had become my second home, and I loved every minute of it. The quiet spaces for studying, the hustle of students on the move, and the occasional moments of clarity when everything just clicked. It was all thrilling—except for one thing: Professor James Hetfield,the Professor, who despite the 15-year difference, I was attracted to.

He was a constant presence. Not just in the classroom, but in my thoughts. Every class, every interaction with him felt charged. He never showed favoritism, not even toward the brilliant students like me, but I couldn’t help the way his cold blue eyes always seemed to find me, to watch me. Every lecture, every question he posed, there was something about the way he looked at me—intense, almost as if he could see through the mask I wore.

The lectures were always intense, filled with complex material that many of the students struggled to understand. But for me, it was all too easy. I was always ahead of the curve, always absorbing the material faster than most. Yet, the more I proved myself, the more I felt his gaze upon me, even if he never admitted it. And somehow, it made everything even more exciting.

When the day of the final exam arrived, the weight of it felt suffocating. It wasn’t just the usual pressure of exams—it was the pressure of having to live up to the quiet challenge I had set for myself. There was something about impressing Professor Hetfield that made every question feel like a test of my worth, something that wasn’t just about getting the answers right but about making him acknowledge me in a way he had never acknowledged anyone else.

The room was filled with students, the air thick with the sounds of papers shuffling and anxious whispers. But I felt calm. Focused. As I looked around the room, I saw them all sweating, struggling over the hardest questions. But my mind was clear—methodical. I answered each question with ease, my pen flying across the page as if the answers were written in my blood. It was exhilarating to feel so confident, so ahead of the game.

It didn’t take long for me to finish. I was the first one done, though I didn’t want to leave yet. The tension between Professor Hetfield and I was like a live wire, and I wasn’t ready to break that connection just yet.

I stood, glancing briefly around the room. The other students were still scribbling away, oblivious to the fact that I was already finished. Without hesitation, I walked up to the front of the room and placed my paper gently on his desk.

Professor Hetfield was seated, marking papers with his usual cool, detached demeanor. His blue eyes flickered up to meet mine for a split second before returning to the paper in front of him. I took a seat in the front row, my hands resting on my lap, trying to keep my composure. As I sat, I felt the anticipation building in my chest. Did I make a mistake? I thought to myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I had doubted myself, but in that moment, uncertainty crept in.

What if I had missed something? What if he saw something wrong in my answers, something I had overlooked? His sharp eyes could spot even the smallest mistake, and that thought gnawed at me. I watched as he methodically went through the other papers, his eyes scanning each answer with cold precision. But when he reached my paper, he paused.

My stomach clenched.

His gaze lingered on my exam, studying it with the same cold attention he always gave everything. I couldn’t read him. Did I mess up? Was there something he had spotted in my work that I hadn’t seen? His pen stopped moving for a moment, then continued with a quick, decisive motion. I felt the silence stretching between us, my pulse quickening.

Professor Hetfield finally placed the pen down, his gaze rising to meet mine. I sat up straighter, trying to read him, but his face was unreadable.

“You finished already?” His voice was the usual low, gravelly tone, but there was something different about it today—something softer, almost impressive. “You didn’t take long.”

I swallowed, trying to maintain a cool facade. “No, I didn’t,” I replied, not trusting my voice to sound steady. He must have seen something wrong, I thought. It’s too quiet.

He looked at me for a moment longer, his eyes piercing through the calm surface of my thoughts. Was he really going to say anything?

I started to second-guess myself, wondering if he was silently critiquing every little thing in my paper. The questions were challenging, after all. But no, I told myself. I nailed it.

“Impressive,” he finally said, his voice clipped. But there was something else in it—a faint admiration buried beneath his usual coolness. “You’ve done well.”

I couldn’t help the small breath that escaped my lips. Was that... a compliment?

His blue eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than usual, a quiet intensity simmering beneath the surface. “Perfect,” he added, almost as an afterthought. His gaze softened, but just barely. “Good work, Miss Y/N.”

I felt a strange warmth spread through me. I had expected more formality, more distance, but there was something about the way he said those words that felt different, more personal. I tried to keep my composure, but my heart was beating harder now.

As the class began to file out, I remained seated for a moment, my fingers lightly brushing over the edges of my papers as I adjusted them, feeling a slight tremor in my hands. I wasn’t sure if I was still processing his words or the intensity of the moment. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to leave, or if I wanted him to say something more—anything, really.

But he didn’t. His attention moved back to the papers on his desk, the cold, professional mask returning. But I knew what had just passed between us. The tension still hung in the air, thick and undeniable. I could almost taste it. I shifted in my seat, feeling the weight of the silence pressing against me.

The room had emptied, leaving just the two of us in this quiet space. My mind raced, trying to make sense of everything. Was he still aware of me? Even as his gaze never fully met mine again, there was something about the way he’d looked at me that made me feel as if we were still connected, even in that silence.

As I stood, I moved to adjust my backpack over my shoulder, trying to regain some normalcy. My fingers fumbled slightly as I pulled it on, my thoughts still tangled. I could feel his eyes on me once more, even though he wasn’t directly looking. It was as if he was aware of my every movement.

Just as I reached the door, I heard his voice—low, commanding, sending a jolt through me.

“You did a good job, Miss Y/N,” he said, his voice a smooth draw. “Always impeccable.”

The words struck me like a spark in the quiet room, and my breath caught. I froze for a moment, feeling the weight of his praise and the underlying intensity behind it. My cheeks flushed a deep crimson, warmth flooding my face as I quickly turned my head, trying to mask the sudden rush of heat.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice softer than usual, betraying the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside me.

Without another word, I stepped out into the hall, my pulse pounding in my ears. The game had changed. And as much as I tried to tell myself it was just another day, I knew deep down that something had shifted between us.

I had to admit, the thought had been nagging at me for days. Was I just another student to him? Did he really see me only as that? Or was there something more behind the way he kept glancing at me in class, his eyes lingering a fraction longer than they should have? It was maddening to think about, and I couldn’t stop the curiosity from eating away at me.

The game was fun—no doubt about it—but I needed answers.

So I decided to test it again. This time, I was going to make sure the Professor couldn’t ignore me, and if he did, then that would prove everything I needed to know.

The idea had been swirling in my head for days now, gnawing at me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more between him and me. He was always so composed, always so in control, but when our eyes met, there was something there. Something I couldn’t explain.

As I settled into my seat, I tried to act casual, pulling out my notebook and pretending to be absorbed in my notes, but my heart was pounding. I could feel his presence at the front of the room, but I kept my eyes trained on the page, waiting for the inevitable.

The room began to fill up as other students entered, taking their seats. He stood at the front, greeting a few students, his voice low and steady as always. But my mind was elsewhere—on him. I couldn’t help but glance up occasionally, but I didn’t want to make it too obvious.

Class began, and he fell into his usual rhythm. His voice was calm, steady, and clear, filling the room with his authoritative presence. I let my mind wander, knowing the moment I had been waiting for would come soon enough.

I noticed his eyes sweeping over the room as he began his lecture, but they didn’t land on me right away. Instead, they passed over my usual seat, scanning the rows of students. For a moment, I wondered if he’d even noticed the change, but I stayed still, pretending to pay attention to the lecture.

Minutes passed, and still, his gaze didn’t linger on me. I almost started to second-guess myself. Maybe he hadn’t noticed. Maybe it wasn’t as obvious as I thought.

But then—

I caught a subtle shift in his movements. His eyes flicked back to the room, scanning again. They moved from one student to the next, and then—It was like a switch had been flipped. His gaze landed on me.

It wasn’t immediate. At first, I thought I imagined it, but then his eyes stayed fixed on me, no longer scanning the room in a casual manner. For a moment, I could see the slight hesitation in his expression, like he was piecing something together. His eyes narrowed slightly as if searching for the right words, trying to figure out why I wasn’t where I usually sat. I felt a thrill of excitement surge through me. He had noticed. It took him a while, but he had noticed.

I didn’t move, pretending to be absorbed in my notes, my heart racing in my chest. My breath caught, and I couldn’t help but glance up again. This time, our eyes met—his deep, piercing blue eyes locking onto mine.

I saw something in them that hadn’t been there before—a flicker of recognition, of something more than just the usual professor-pupil dynamic. It was brief, but it was enough. He quickly broke the gaze, his expression stiffening as if he were trying to regain his usual composure.

But I knew. I knew he saw me now.

My mind raced, but I kept my expression neutral. I didn’t want to give away that I knew exactly what had just happened. The rest of the lecture passed in a blur, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment—the way his gaze had lingered on me, the way his eyes had found me in the back of the room.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class. The students began filing out, and I stood slowly, packing my things. I kept my movements deliberate, as though I had all the time in the world, but my pulse was racing. I glanced around the room to see if anyone else noticed, but most students were too busy gathering their things and heading toward the door.

I walked out with the others, trying to keep my face neutral, but a smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. As I made my way down the hall, the satisfaction of what had just happened settled over me. Professor Hetfield had noticed me—really noticed me. The way his gaze had locked onto mine, the brief hesitation in his usual calm demeanor—it was all the confirmation I needed.

I smirked to myself as I walked down the hallway, knowing that the game had changed. He had watched me, and now he knew. I had made my point.

As the students filed out, I made my way over to Professor Hammett, who was talking to a couple of people by the door. He was always easy to talk to, and today, I had the perfect excuse to strike up a conversation.

“Hey, Professor Hammett!” I said, casually walking up.

“Y/N!” he greeted, his usual easy grin spreading across his face. “What’s up? You’re looking way too cheerful for someone who just survived a lecture with Hetfield.”

I laughed, adjusting my bag. “Oh, you know, I’m just doing great in class. But I was thinking about that old horror flick I watched last night—The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I love how gritty and real it feels.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of the movie. “Ah, classic! That whole atmosphere, the suspense… It’s one of those films that gets under your skin. How about The Shining? Now that one’s pure psychological horror.”

I smiled, getting into the conversation. “For sure. It’s all about that tension, right? You don’t need to see the monster to feel the terror. It’s all in the build-up.”

He leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know what? We should have a movie marathon. Old-school stuff. What do you think?”

“I’d be down for that,” I replied, enjoying the easy banter. But as we were talking, I caught the glint of familiar cold blue eyes across the hall—Professor Hetfield. He was standing with a few students, but his gaze was locked on me. I quickly turned back to Professor Hammett, but the tension in the air was undeniable.

As I continued the conversation with him, I noticed the professor step closer, his usual reserved demeanor barely concealing the sharp focus in his eyes. He greeted Kirk briefly, then turned his attention to me.

“Afternoon, Miss Y/N,” he said, his voice low and almost a little too casual. But there was something there—something in the way his eyes lingered on me just a little too long.

“Good afternoon, Professor Hetfield,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light, but inside, my heart was racing. I couldn’t help but feel the shift in the air between us. It was like the silent tension from the horror movies we’d just discussed—unspoken, but thick.

Kirk smiled and stepped back slightly. “I’ll leave you two to chat. Catch you later, Y/N.”

“See you, Professor” I said, my smile still in place, but I could feel the subtle power shift now that it was just Professor Hetfield and me. As Kirk walked off, he moved a little closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I see you’ve been talking to Kirk,” he said, his tone still polite, but there was an edge to it now. The subtle jealousy was unmistakable. I could practically feel the heat radiating off him as he gave a small nod in Kirk’s direction.

I raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little closer. “Just talking about old horror movies, the classics.” I gave him a small, teasing smile. “What’s your take on them, Professor? Or are you too serious for something like that?”

He stared at me for a moment, then gave a tight smile. “I think I’m more interested in your take on them, Miss Y/N. You seem to have a particular passion for these films. Maybe you can give me some recommendations.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, I’ve got plenty. You’re missing out on some of the best stuff. I’ll make you a list,” I said, my voice light but purposeful. The more I pushed him, the more I saw the barely-contained frustration in his eyes. Before I could say anything more, Professor Hetfield quickly glanced away, as if pulling himself back from the moment. He cleared his throat. “Good job in class today. Your answers were... always impeccable.” His voice dropped slightly, as though he was forcing the words out.

I gave him a sly smile, my cheeks burning slightly from the attention. “Thanks, Professor. I’ll be sure to give you more to think about next time.”

As I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but feel the smirk forming on my lips. I’d pushed just the right buttons today, and I could see the jealousy simmering beneath his usually cold exterior.

As I walked out of the hallway, I could feel his eyes still on me, even though he didn’t say a word. It was like a scene from one of those horror movies we’d joked about—where the tension builds and you’re not sure when the next jump scare will come, but you know it’s coming.

I had him now. Professor Hetfield was interested, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

It had been days since I’d started playing my little games with Professor Hetfield. Each class had felt like a silent war, a dance of glances, subtle challenges, and unspoken words. I could feel his eyes on me more and more, could see the tension building every time I answered a question or made a move in his class. It was almost like a game of cat and mouse, and I was enjoying every second of it.

Today was no different. I was the last to leave the lecture hall, as usual. I liked to take my time, let everyone else rush out. There was something intoxicating about the way Professor Hetfield always seemed to watch me leave, his eyes following me as I gathered my things. And today, I was determined to make him feel something more.

I slung my bag over my shoulder slowly, savoring the quiet of the empty classroom. I had done it again—made him want more, made him chase me without him even realizing it. I thought I’d done enough to leave the class without another glance back, but today felt different.

Just as my hand touched the doorknob, I heard his voice. Low, controlled, but unmistakably commanding.

“Miss Y/N.”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I turned slowly to face him. He was standing by his desk, his gaze fixed on me. There was a new intensity in his eyes—a flicker of something deeper, something darker that hadn’t been there before.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it now, a hint of something more.

I gave him a playful smile, leaning back slightly against the door. “Just thought I’d take my time, Professor. You know, savor the moment.”

His lips twitched at the corner, a small smirk playing on his face as he walked slowly toward me. “Savor the moment? Interesting choice of words.”

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why? Does that make you uncomfortable, Professor?” I could see the flicker of challenge in his eyes, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming.

“No,” he said quietly, his voice lowering, “but it makes me curious.”

The air between us thickened. Every step he took felt like it brought him closer to something dangerous—something that neither of us had fully acknowledged until now. I could feel the electricity crackling in the room, like we were standing on the edge of something we couldn’t control.

I took a step back, my heart racing. “I should go,” I said softly, trying to maintain control, even as the desire building between us felt undeniable.

But as I reached for the door, he moved quickly, his hand slamming against it, stopping me from leaving.

I froze, caught off guard by the force of his movement. My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at him, his blue eyes locking with mine. He was so close now, the heat of his body radiating against mine.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

My heart pounded in my chest. The space between us was electric, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. His hand stayed on the door, his other hand slowly lifting to brush a lock of hair behind my ear. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I could barely breathe under the weight of his gaze.

“You like playing with me, don’t you?” His voice was almost a growl now, the words wrapped in dark intent. “You like making me chase you, testing me, seeing how far I’ll go.”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breath, but I couldn’t deny the heat that rushed through me. This was the moment—the moment. “Maybe,” I whispered, my lips almost brushing against his as I spoke. “Maybe I do.”

His smirk deepened, and in that instant, he closed the distance between us. His lips crashed against mine, fierce and hungry, as if he couldn’t hold back anymore. The kiss was everything I had imagined—passionate, urgent, full of unspoken desire. His hands moved to my waist, pulling me closer, the heat of his body making me melt against him.

I responded in kind, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepened, and I could feel his desire growing, matching my own. The world outside the room ceased to exist. All that mattered was the tension between us—the need that had been building for days, now finally unleashed.

His hands moved to the small of my back, pushing me against the door as he kissed me deeper. I could feel his breath against my neck, his lips trailing down to the sensitive spot just below my ear. I gasped as his hand slid down, dangerously close to where I wanted him, but just as quickly, he pulled away, his eyes dark with lust.

“You’ve been playing with fire, Miss Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “And now… it’s my turn.” I think,” he said, his voice soft but filled with purpose, “that I should remind you who’s in charge here.”

I looked up at him, my chest rising and falling with every breath. My heart was racing, but I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. “I’ve been waiting for this,” I whispered.

His gaze darkened, and without another word, he pulled me toward him again, this time more forcefully, as his lips descended on mine once more. The kiss was all heat and urgency, the taste of him intoxicating as his hands roamed over my body, taking control in a way that made me feel both exhilarated and completely powerless.

I responded, parting my lips slightly, inviting him in. The kiss deepened, his lips moving against mine with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the connection between us. My body seemed to melt against him, every inch of me craving the touch I had been teasing him with for so long.

His hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer, and for a brief moment, I thought he might push me further. But he didn’t. Instead, he gently guided me toward his desk, the action so smooth, so deliberate, I couldn’t help but follow.

He stopped just before the edge of the desk, his eyes locking onto mine. “Sit,” he said, his voice soft but commanding.

I obeyed without hesitation, sitting on the edge of the desk, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for what would come next. The anticipation was almost too much to bear.

He stepped back, taking in the sight of me sitting there, the tension thick in the air. “You’ve been teasing me,” he said again, his voice softer this time, but no less intense. “But you want more, don’t ya?”

I nodded, unable to find the words. My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve alive with need.

“You’re so needy for me, Miss Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire. “And I think you know exactly how far you’re willing to go.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, but before I could respond, he was back in front of me, his lips capturing mine once again. The kiss was hungry now, desperate, like we were both starved for this connection. There was no turning back. He first unbuttoned my shirt a bit, playing with them a bit, but surprisingly he ripped my shirt leaving me with only my bra. I smirked at his action, and with confidence, I started removing my bra, slowly looking at him, with a smirk. My fingers hesitated for just a second as I reached for the straps of my bra, but I knew he was watching, and somehow, that made me move slower, more deliberately.

As I pulled the fabric down my shoulders, I felt his eyes trace the curve of my skin. I could see the shift in his posture—how his breath seemed to catch, how his chest rose and fell a little faster. His eyes never left me, and I could feel the weight of his stare like a touch, lingering on my exposed skin. When the bra finally slipped down, I couldn’t help but notice how his gaze followed every inch, lingering on my breasts with such intensity that it made me feel completely exposed.

His jaw tightened, and I saw his hand flex at his side, as if he was fighting the urge to move. He didn’t look away. In fact, it was almost like he was drinking me in, like he couldn’t get enough of what he was seeing. There was hunger in his eyes—raw, powerful—and yet, there was something else too, something almost reverent, like he was seeing me in a way no one else ever had.

His breath was shallow, quick, and I noticed how his body shifted, how he leaned in just slightly, drawn to me without even realizing it. I could tell he wanted to reach out, to close the distance between us, but he stayed still, rooted in place, just watching. His eyes flicked back to mine for a moment, and the heat between us seemed to grow, thick and heavy, leaving no room for anything but this moment.

I let the bra drop fully, and still, his gaze never wavered. I felt a flush spread across my skin, not from shyness, but from the raw intensity of how he was looking at me. He was hungry for me, but it wasn’t just physical. It felt deeper, like he was searching for something in me, something more than just the surface.

At that moment, I realized I wasn’t just undressing for him. I was giving him all of me, and he was taking it in, slowly, carefully, like he was afraid if he blinked, it would all disappear.

“You really love teasing, don’t you, darling?” His voice was low, almost a growl, like he was savoring the words, letting them linger between us. His gaze never left mine, intense and predatory, but there was something playful in the way he spoke, as if he enjoyed watching me revel in the power of the moment.

met his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. His words hung in the air, heavy with that unmistakable edge of desire. “Yes,” I said softly, my voice breathless but confident. “I love it.” I let the words linger between us, daring him to respond, daring him to make the next move.

His eyes darkened, and the moment stretched taut between us, the space narrowing. Before I could even register the shift in his posture, his hand was on me—his touch firm, almost possessive as he reached for my breast, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin. I gasped, my body instinctively tilting toward him, but he guided me with ease, his touch a mixture of control and dominance.

“You’ve had your little games,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with intent. “Now it’s my turn to have fun.” His thumb stroked the curve of my breast, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ve teased me enough, darling. But now…” He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, his grip tightening slightly. “Now, it’s my turn to see just how much you can handle.”

His hand didn’t stop, didn’t falter. The intensity of his gaze pinned me in place, even as my breath hitched and my knees felt weak. Without a word, he guided me back until I felt the cool edge of the desk against me. His touch was deliberate, firm but not rushed, as though he wanted to savor every reaction he could draw from me.

“Lie back,” he murmured, his voice deep and commanding, the kind of tone that sent a shiver through me and left no room for hesitation. I obeyed, lowering myself onto the desk, the smooth surface pressing against my back as he loomed over me.

His hands moved down, exploring every inch of me, his fingertips brushing over my exposed skin with an unhurried precision that made me feel like I was unraveling under his touch. When he reached the hem of my skirt, his eyes flicked up to meet mine, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he said, his tone teasing but heavy with desire. He slid the fabric higher, baring my thighs inch by inch, watching as goosebumps rose on my skin. His fingers lingered just at the edge of my panties, tracing the line where the fabric met my skin, a maddeningly light touch that made my pulse race.

“You like to tease, but look at you now,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. His thumb brushed over me through the thin fabric, his movements slow, deliberate. I couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped my lips, and his smirk deepened.

“Already so wet,” he said softly, almost to himself, his fingers pressing just enough to make me squirm. “Tell me, darling, was this all part of your little game? Or is this just how much you want me?”

The way he looked at me, the way his hands moved, made my mind spin. I couldn’t find the words to respond, couldn’t do anything but feel as he kept teasing me, his touch igniting every nerve in my body. He was in complete control now, and I could only hold onto the edge of the desk, letting myself get lost in the way he looked at me like I was his to claim.

His fingers toyed with the edge of my panties, his touch maddeningly light as though he was savoring how much I squirmed under him. I managed a smirk, though my breath was already unsteady.

“You’re good at this,” I murmured, the tease in my voice thin but still there. “But what about you, Professor?” My words dripped with mock innocence, daring him. “You should’ve seen the way you were looking at me earlier.”

His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening for just a moment as if I’d struck a nerve. The smirk that spread across his lips after was slow, deliberate, dangerous.

“You have no idea,” he said, the words making me shiver. “How many times I’ve dreamed of this—of having you like this, spread out, completely mine to touch, to taste…” His hand slid lower, his fingers grazing the soft fabric that clung to me. “To fuck you senseless,” he finished, his tone rough with restraint, his breath hot against my skin.

“Don’t you have rules about this?” I asked, my voice low and teasing, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. “Making out with your student?”

He paused for a fraction of a second, his eyes locking onto mine. The intensity in his gaze made my stomach flip, and then he leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, his voice rough and full of heat.

“I’d break every rule for you, darling,” he said, his breath hot against my skin. “Every single one.”

His hands moved with purpose then, slipping beneath the waistband of my panties, hooking the fabric, and pulling it down slowly. The deliberate way he did it—like he wanted me to feel every second of it—made my pulse race.

“Lift,” he said, his tone low and commanding, and I obeyed without a second thought, letting him slide them down and away. The cool air against my bare skin made me shiver, but his warm hands were already there, settling on my thighs, pushing them apart with a quiet authority that sent heat rushing through me.

“Open up for me,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, his eyes dark with intent. The way he looked at me, like I was something he’d waited too long to touch, made me tremble.

He leaned in, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, his breath warm, every touch deliberate and unhurried. I gripped the edge of the desk, barely able to breathe as he moved closer, the tension in the air thick enough to drown in.

“You teased me long enough,” he murmured against my skin, his voice a low, gravelly promise. “Now, let me take care of you the way I’ve dreamed of.”

His hands tightened on my thighs, spreading them wider as he leaned in, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. The weight of his gaze alone made me feel exposed, vulnerable—but in a way that only made me crave more. His touch was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every moment, every reaction I gave him.

I tried to steady my breath, but it was impossible when every second of his tongue left me more breathless. His lips brushed over my skin, soft and teasing, but I couldn’t stop the way my body responded—how I arched toward him instinctively, needing more.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, with a hint of command. “Let me make you feel good.”

The tension in my body built with every deliberate stroke of his tongue on my clit, every soft press of his lips. I could feel my pulse racing, the heat spreading through me, getting more intense with every move he made. The way he took his time, exploring, licking, making sure I felt every inch of his attention, was driving me crazy. I couldn’t help the quiet moans that escaped my lips, each one only fueling his need to tease me further.

I could feel the pressure building, growing tighter and tighter inside me, until it was almost unbearable. His movements were steady, perfect, and it was clear he was enjoying the way I was coming undone beneath his touch. My body trembled with anticipation, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Professor… professor… I’m c-coming,” I gasped, my voice shaky as the words tumbled out before I could even stop them.

The moment I spoke, he pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against me as he glanced up at me, his expression filled with a wicked, knowing smile.

“Call me James, babe,” he murmured, his voice rough and possessive. There was a playful edge in his tone, but underneath it was an unmistakable authority that sent another wave of heat rushing through me.

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down—he kept moving with that same steady rhythm, drawing me closer to the edge again. The way he moved, the way he touched me, left me no choice but to surrender to the pleasure.

“James...” I gasped, the sound of his name falling from my lips like a plea, a release. It pushed me over the edge, and I couldn’t help but let go, the pleasure crashing through me in waves as I fell apart beneath his touch.

I could hardly catch my breath as the waves of pleasure slowly ebbed away, my chest heaving with each shallow inhale. Slowly, I sat up, trying to regain some sense of control, my body still trembling slightly from the release he’d given me.

But he wasn’t done. I felt his hand gently, yet firmly, guide me back, pushing me to lay across the desk.

“Did you think I was done, Y/n?” His voice was low, confident, full of quiet authority as he loomed above me, his eyes dark with intent. “I told you... now it’s my turn to play.”

His hands moved with purpose, his fingers undoing his shirt. I watched as he pulled it off, revealing his toned chest, each muscle defined and impossibly perfect in the soft light. The sight of him, so composed yet hungry for me, stirred something deep inside.

He unzipped his trousers, the sound of the zipper sharp in the otherwise quiet room. As he stepped closer, his gaze never left mine, steady and filled with something that made my heart race even faster.

“I know you want it, babe,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with unspoken promise. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this... to make you scream my name while I fuck your little pussy. I can feel it... the way you’ve been craving me, just like I’ve been craving you.”

I could feel the tension building again between us, the heat in the room growing almost unbearable. His hands moved firmly to my shoulders, guiding me back until I was lying flat across the desk, my heart racing with both anticipation and uncertainty. The shift in position made everything feel more intimate, more real, and I could feel my body instinctively surrendering to him.

His touch was possessive now, his hands gentle but unyielding, pressing me firmly against the desk. My breath hitched as he loomed over me, his presence a weight I couldn’t escape. Every movement he made was deliberate, as though he was savoring each second, each shift of power.

“You’re not going anywhere, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with an unmistakable edge of command. His tone was both soothing and thrilling, the way he said my name sending a rush of heat through my body. The way he used it—like he was taking control—made my pulse quicken.

It felt as though every inch of my body was attuned to him, and I couldn’t help but let go of the resistance, letting myself sink into the moment, into the connection we shared.

His hands slid gently under my ass, lifting me as he positioned himself between my legs, his presence commanding. I could feel the weight of his touch as he leaned down, his lips brushing lightly over the inside of my thighs. The kiss was slow, deliberate, each movement sending a pulse of warmth through my body.

“You’re mine now, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin, sending shivers through me. “I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

He leaned in, starting moving slowly but sending shivers down my spine. Each thrust was deliberate, slow—almost too slow for the need I felt building within me. My body wanted more, needed more, but he was taking his time, letting every moment stretch out, making me ache with wanting.

I could feel him shift slightly, his hands gently gripping my hips, pulling me closer, but still, he didn’t move any faster. The anticipation was maddening, and I couldn’t hold back the soft whimper that escaped my lips.

“Please,” I breathed, barely able to control myself. ��Faster, please.”

His eyes locked onto mine as he paused, the intensity in his gaze making my heart race. There was a moment where I could feel his control slipping, but he only smiled slightly, the hint of a challenge in his eyes.

“You’re such a desperate girl, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost like a growl. There was a teasing edge to his words, but they only added to the heat building inside me. His tone, though commanding, held something more—a knowing that made me shiver in response.

The pace had quickened, and every movement he made sent waves of heat through me. His hands were gripping my hips, holding me in place as he thrust harder, faster. My breath was coming in ragged gasps, my chest rising and falling with each moment. I could feel every inch of him, the way his body moved with control and purpose, making every nerve in my body come alive.

I could feel his gaze on me, intense and dark with desire, as he continued to move with a rhythm that was both steady and relentless. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” he whispered, his hands sliding up to my ribs, his fingers curling slightly as he held me tighter, his thumb brushing over my skin.

“Yes,” I gasped, the word slipping out before I could stop it. I was already lost in the sensation, my mind spinning with the intensity of everything—his touch, his voice, the way he made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

Without missing a beat, he increased the pace again, and I couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation overwhelming. His movements were smooth, confident, his body pressing me down into the desk as I gripped the edges, my fingers digging into the cool surface. Every thrust sent shockwaves through me, the intensity building until I could feel my body starting to tremble with the pressure.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear, the sound of his voice sending a shiver through me. His words were a promise, something deeper, something real. “You feel so good, Y/N.”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t form a coherent thought. I was lost in the feeling of him, the way his body moved with mine, the way everything seemed to align as if we were both caught in the same moment, the same rhythm. The connection was undeniable, each touch, each thrust, drawing me closer to the edge.

My breaths were shallow now, the pressure building more and more. I could feel myself starting to tremble, my legs tightening around him, desperate for release. “James,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, but he heard it, responding without hesitation.

“What did you say, darling? I didn’t hear you” He said, looking at me with a smirk on his face. “Jame-” I tried to say but only a moan came. “I don't hear you babe” and he thrusted harder now and I felt dizzy for a second. “I told you I want you to scream my name, but I don’t listen nothing” “James, fuck me harder!” I cried, I don’t even know how my voice came. He looked at me with a smirk.

His hands moved down to my thighs, gripping them firmly, and he shifted, adjusting his position just enough to make the sensation even more intense. My body arched, a soft gasp escaping me as the new angle took over, the pressure building in all the right ways.

It was almost too much, but I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t pull away. I wanted this, needed this, and as the rhythm of his movements quickened again, I could feel my own body responding, chasing that overwhelming release.

" James... I'm close," I breathed, my voice shaky, barely a whisper. Every part of me was on fire, the heat inside me almost unbearable, but I couldn't stop it. I was caught between control and the overwhelming need to give in to what he was offering.

"Cum for me, Y/N, come all over my cock such a good girl you are" he whispered, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. The sound of his words sent a shiver down my spine, like a signal that it was okay to give in, to let the pressure that had been building inside me finally break free.

I finally let go. The sensation hit me all at once, a wave of heat and release that took over, making my entire body tremble. I couldn’t stop the soft, breathless moans that slipped from me, each one an echo of the intensity coursing through me.

"I need just a bit more," he whispered, his voice strained. His hands gripped my hips tighter as he pulled me closer, urging me to meet his rhythm.

The pace quickened, the sounds of his breathing growing louder. His movements became more erratic, his grip on me tightening, his face a mix of focus and something deeper.

"Y/N..." he muttered, his breath catching. His body shuddered against mine, the tension finally snapping as he released a soft exhale, the rapid rise and fall of his chest matching the frantic rhythm of the moment.

For a few moments, we both stayed still, breathing heavily, connected in the quiet aftermath.

He gently guided me to sit, but I remained on the edge of the desk, my legs draped around his waist, as he stood just in front of me. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close, his chest pressing against mine as we both caught our breath. I could feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek. We both smiled, a moment of quiet intimacy between us.

"Wow," I murmured, my voice still breathless. "That was intense."

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening slightly as if reassuring me. "I’m glad you liked it," he whispered, his voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. A playful glint danced in his eyes, but there was also something deeper, an intensity that lingered.

I looked up at him, my fingers tracing lightly over his shirt, my lips teasing the words I could feel bubbling up inside. "What if I wanted to play again?" I said, my voice soft but daring, the words laced with challenge.

He smirked, holding me a little tighter as if pulling me further into him. "If you play with me again, there will be consequences," he said, his tone playful yet firm.

I met his gaze, leaning in just slightly, my lips brushing near his ear. "Then I’ll gladly play again," I whispered, my voice a breath against his skin.

He chuckled softly, but then his expression shifted. He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, a serious edge creeping into his voice. "I forgot to mention something," he said. His hand moved to the back of my neck, his touch gentle but firm. "If I hear you talking the way you did earlier, with Professor Hammett, I’ll make you pay for it."

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I looked up at him, my lips curling into a teasing smile. "Are you jealous, Professor?" I asked, my voice light, but there was a part of me that wanted to know just how he’d react.

His grip on me tightened, just enough to send a shiver through me, but his smile didn’t waver. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice rough but with a hint of warmth. "And maybe, just maybe, I’ll make you regret making me feel that way."

A playful laugh escaped me, but there was a softness in my chest, a warmth I couldn’t quite explain. Without another word, he leaned down, pressing his lips gently to mine and I wrapped my arms around his neck. It was slow at first, a tender kiss that deepened as we both surrendered to the quiet pull between us. When we finally broke away, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths coming in unison.

"I’ve wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, his voice thick with something more than just desire.

I smiled softly, running my fingers along the edge of his shirt, a quiet thrill coursing through me. "I think we both have a lot more to explore, don’t we?"

He chuckled, pulling me closer once more, his arms holding me as if to keep me from ever slipping away. "Definitely."

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #metallica x you #metallica smut #metallica x reader #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield one shot #james hetifeld x you #james hetfield smut

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 1 month ago

Text

Warnings: 18+, somnophilia, explicit sexual content, sexual themes, adult themes

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-Between Sleep and Desire-

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the moon spilling through the curtains. I lay beside Y/N, her body peacefully nestled under the covers, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest lulling me into a trance. She looked so innocent, so completely unaware of the effect she had on me. My heart raced as I watched her, my gaze lingering on her delicate features, the way her lips parted slightly as if inviting me closer.

I shifted closer, feeling the heat radiating from her body. I had always been captivated by her, but tonight, my desire had taken a sharper edge. The thought of waking her with my touch sent shivers down my spine. I gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, my fingers grazing her skin, marveling at how soft she felt beneath my fingertips.

With an ache in my chest, I leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. The temptation to go further was intoxicating, and I couldn’t resist the urge to explore. I trailed my lips down her cheek, feeling her warmth against me, my desire mounting with each gentle caress. She stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping her lips, and my breath hitched at the sound.

As if drawn by an unseen force, I let my lips find hers, kissing her softly at first, but the moment our mouths connected, something primal awakened within me. She tasted sweet and inviting, and I found myself deepening the kiss, my hands roaming down her body, exploring the curves I had longed to touch.

Y/N didn’t wake, her body responding instinctively to my touch. I pushed the boundaries of my desire, my hands slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, feeling the soft warmth of her skin. The sight of her so vulnerable and unaware sent a rush of heat coursing through my veins. I kissed my way down her neck, savoring the taste of her skin, and as I nibbled lightly at her collarbone, a soft moan escaped her lips.

Encouraged by her response, I ventured lower, my fingers sliding beneath the waistband of her shorts, brushing against the softness of her thighs. The thrill of knowing she was still asleep made my heart race. I leaned in closer, my breath hot against her core as I took my time teasing her, my lips brushing against her folds. She shifted again, a soft whimper escaping her, and I almost lost control. I needed her to wake up, to feel everything I was doing to her, but for now, I would take what I could get.

As I began to taste her, my tongue sliding through her folds, she reacted almost immediately, her body arching into me. The taste of her sent me spiraling into a haze of desire. I felt like I was in a dream, completely consumed by her sweetness, lost in the sensation of pleasuring her while she remained blissfully unaware.

With each flick of my tongue, I coaxed more soft sights from her, and I felt a surge of triumph at the effect I had on her even in her sleep. I could feel her body responding, her hips moving against me as if she were dreaming of the pleasure I was giving her.

It was intoxicating, and I wanted more. I needed to feel her, to have her fully awake and begging for more. I slipped a finger inside her, and her body a little tensed, her eyes fluttering open, confusion mixed with a haze of pleasure as she looked down at me.

“What… what are you doing?” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep, but there was a hint of desire in her eyes that made my heart race.

“I couldn’t help myself,” I confessed, my voice low and filled with urgency. “You looked so beautiful, so tempting. I needed to taste you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she registered my words, but instead of pushing me away, she bit her lip, her cheeks flushing with a mix of surprise and desire. “James…” she began, but her voice trailed off as I continued to work my fingers inside her, my mouth still teasing her.

The room was filled with the sound of her breaths, quickening with every thrust of my fingers, and I felt a rush of satisfaction knowing I was the one causing her pleasure. “Just feel, Y/N,” I urged, my breath hot against her skin. “Let me take care of you.”

She nodded, her eyes locking onto mine as the realization of what was happening fully set in. The shift in her demeanor was electric, and I felt her body respond eagerly as I added another finger, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot.

“James, please…” she gasped, her voice a mix of desperation and desire, and I knew she was ready for more. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I wanted to feel her wrapped around me, to share this moment fully with her.

I pulled away, my fingers still buried inside her, and positioned myself above her, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. The taste of her lingered on my tongue, and I could feel her heart racing beneath me. “Are you sure?” I asked, searching her eyes for any hesitation.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice filled with urgency. “I want you.”

With that, I sank into her, feeling her warmth envelop me as I filled her completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and connection that sent us both spiraling. I could feel her body clenching around me, and I groaned at the sheer bliss of being inside her.

We moved together, our bodies finding a rhythm that felt natural, electric. I lost myself in the way she responded to me, the sounds of our breaths mingling as we drew closer to the edge. I leaned down, kissing her deeply, pouring all my desire into that moment.

“James, don’t stop,” she begged, her eyes pleading with me to give her everything.

“I won’t,” I promised, my voice low and filled with need as I quickened my pace. Each thrust brought us closer, the tension coiling tightly within us.

With one final push, I felt her body tighten around me, her pleasure crashing over her as she cried out my name. The sound sent me over the edge, and I followed her into bliss, feeling the warmth of our connection wrap around us like a blanket.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, I collapsed beside her, pulling her into my arms. We lay there, hearts racing, a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction washing over us.

“I didn’t mean to wake you like that,” I murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Y/N smiled softly, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “I’m glad you did,” she replied, her voice filled with a lingering hint of desire. “You’re incredible.”

I grinned, feeling a rush of affection for her. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

She looked at me, her expression a blend of surprise and excitement. “Neither did I… until now.”

#metallica #metallica oneshot #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield one shot #james hetfield imagine #james hetfield smut #james hetfield #kinktober 2024 #metallica smut

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 15 days ago

Note

hey I hope you’re having a good day

Can I request a shot about current James x reader, cozy evening and it ends with smut shower?

Hello, thank you, I'm having a good day. I hope you're having a good day too❤ Sorry, I know you requested a smut story, but I wanted to make it more on the intimate side rather than too explicit. I hope you still like it!

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Warnings: mature themes, intimate scenes, physical intimacy

Under the Shower's Touch

The soft, golden glow of the lamp in the corner of the living room bathed the space in warmth, making everything feel incredibly cozy. The flicker of the fire in the fireplace added a gentle crackling sound to the background, creating a peaceful ambiance that felt perfect for a quiet evening. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the comforting smell of the soft blanket draped over the couch. I let out a contented sigh as I nestled closer to James, the fabric of the blanket pulling around us both like a cocoon.

His arm naturally draped over my shoulders, pulling me a little closer, and I couldn’t help but smile as I felt the familiar warmth of his touch. My legs were tangled beneath the blanket with his, and I let my head rest on his chest. It was one of those simple moments, quiet and peaceful, but it made me feel like the world was perfect just as it was.

"Long day?" His voice was low, the kind of voice that always soothed me, but there was something more in his tone tonight—a hint of something deeper. His fingers traced slow circles on my arm, but the touch lingered just a little longer than usual, sending an unexpected heat to the pit of my stomach.

I nodded, feeling the weight of the day’s stress slowly melt away in his presence. "Nothing compared to this," I replied softly, lifting my gaze to meet his. His eyes were warm, but there was something darker in them now—something hungry, something that made my pulse race.

James’ smile turned into something more suggestive, his lips curling at the edges. "Come on," he murmured, his voice a little rougher. "Let’s take a shower. You’ve earned it."

My heart skipped at the way he said it, the promise of his words thick with intention. I stood, almost pulling him toward the bathroom as my hand slipped into his, my fingers tightening around his. The way he held me, the way he pulled me in, told me everything I needed to know. I was his, completely, and he wasn’t letting go.

As we reached the bathroom, James paused, his fingers brushing down the sides of my body. I felt a twinge of excitement as he gently cupped my face, tilting my head up so our eyes locked. His gaze was soft but intense, full of desire that made my heart beat faster. Slowly, he reached for the hem of my shirt, his fingers grazing the fabric as he pulled it upward.

The moment was slow, deliberate—his touch gentle, like he was savoring the sensation of undressing me, as though he wanted to take in every inch of my skin. My breath hitched as his hands slid beneath the fabric, brushing lightly over my ribs. The feeling was electrifying, the way he moved, the way he looked at me, made everything else in the world fade away.

He took his time, slipping my shirt off over my head, his eyes tracing every exposed part of my skin. His fingers then moved to the clasp of my bra, undoing it with practiced ease, as though it was second nature to him. I shivered slightly, the anticipation building between us. Each movement felt slow, drawn out, like he was trying to memorize the feel of me, inch by inch.

When my bra was gone, his eyes lingered on my bare chest for a moment before his hands moved to my pants. He undid the button with a steady, almost reverent touch, pulling the fabric down slowly. My body responded instinctively, lifting slightly so he could slide them off, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement as his fingers brushed over the smooth skin of my hips.

Once I was completely undressed, James stepped back, his eyes scanning over me, dark and full of admiration. "You’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. The way he looked at me, as though I was the only thing in the world that mattered, made my heart race even faster.

He kissed me then, a slow, deep kiss that left me breathless. His hands roamed over my body as if memorizing every curve, every dip, every inch of skin. The kiss deepened as he pulled me closer, pressing his body against mine, and I felt the heat building between us, like a fire that couldn’t be contained.

When the kiss finally broke, I could barely catch my breath. James’ hand slid down my back, and he led me to the shower. The warm water already flowed from the showerhead, filling the space with the gentle sound of water hitting tile. We stepped under the spray together, and I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the heat of the water wash over us both.

But James wasn’t finished yet.

He took his time, his fingers trailing down my sides, as he guided me beneath the spray. The water felt like it was pouring over us, but his touch was what really made me shiver. He kissed my neck, his lips pressing lightly against my skin before moving lower, slowly exploring me, each touch so deliberate, so careful.

I let out a breathy sigh, closing my eyes as I melted into his touch. "James..." I whispered, my voice thick with the emotions swirling inside me.

"Do you want it?" he murmured, his lips brushing over my shoulder. His voice was soft, but there was a quiet intensity in it that made my heart race. "I need to hear you say it."

My pulse quickened, and I nodded, my hands sliding up to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips. "I want it," I whispered, my voice breathless and full of longing. "I want you."

The words hung in the air for a moment, charged with the weight of everything between us. His lips found mine again, this kiss more urgent, more intense. His hands moved over me, touching me with such tenderness that it almost hurt, yet every movement felt like it was pulling me closer to the edge.

"Let me take care of you," he whispered against my lips, his voice full of promise. His hands roamed lower, and I responded instinctively, pressing my body closer to his. The connection between us deepened, our movements becoming more synchronized, every inch of our skin touching as if we were made for this moment.

The intimacy between us deepened, the way we moved together, each kiss and touch more urgent than the last. He held me tightly, his hands gently guiding me, making sure we were completely connected, in sync with each other. I could feel the connection between us growing, something raw and powerful.

Finally, when the intensity of the moment softened, James held me close, his hands brushing through my wet hair as he kissed my forehead gently. His arms tightened around me, pulling me against him. "Are you okay?" he asked again, his voice low and filled with quiet affection.

I nodded, my head resting against his chest, the warmth of the water washing over us. "I’m perfect," I whispered, my voice soft but steady.

He sighed, his hand gently tracing along my back, his fingers soothing against my skin. "I want to stay like this forever," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

I closed my eyes, feeling his words sink into me, and whispered back, "Me too."

We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the warmth of the water surround us, both of us feeling the weight of the moment. No words were needed. The quiet understanding between us said everything. We were content, lost in the calm, knowing this was the one thing we both wanted: just this. Together.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #jameshetfield #metallica fluff #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield smut #metallica smut #nausicaamusiclover20 #james hetfield one shot

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 18 days ago

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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.

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.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #metallica fluff #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield one shot #nausicaamusiclover20

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 1 month ago

Text

Warnings: age gap, daddy kink, explicit sexual content, dirty talks and maybe more.

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The room feels suffocating tonight. Even with the soft candlelight casting shadows across the walls, I can't shake the weight pressing against my chest. It’s like the air between us is heavy with something unspoken, something I've been holding back for too long. My fingers tremble as I sit on the edge of the bed, twisting the hem of my dress in my hands, feeling the fabric slip between my fingers.

I look up at him, standing across the room. His eyes are on me, watching, waiting. He’s always been good at reading me, knowing when something is wrong before I can even find the words. And tonight, I can feel his gaze piercing right through me, unraveling all the thoughts I’ve been trying to keep in check.

But I can’t keep them inside anymore. I need him. More than just the physical want, though that’s always there—an undercurrent I can’t escape. But tonight, it’s deeper. I need him to hold me together, to make me feel safe, wanted, and completely his.

“I need you tonight,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, but I know he hears it. He always hears me. “More than ever.”

His expression shifts, something dark and knowing flickering in his eyes as he steps toward me. The moment he’s close enough to touch, I feel my pulse quicken, my whole body attuned to his presence like he’s the only thing anchoring me to the ground. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing softly over my skin, and I can’t help but lean into it, like I need the touch to remind me I’m not alone.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low, soothing, but there's a possessiveness there, too. His words wrap around me, grounding me, but they also make my stomach flutter with that familiar heat. “You don’t have to say anything else.”

But I do. I need him to know. I need him to understand that it’s not just about comfort. It’s more. It’s about him, about how much I crave everything he is. I bite my lip, trying to find the right words, but the vulnerability surges to the surface before I can stop it.

“Please…” My voice trembles, and I feel the sting of unshed tears in my eyes. “I need you to remind me that I’m yours… daddy.”

His grip on my waist tightens ever so slightly, pulling me closer until I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. The closeness of him, the strength in his touch, makes my breath catch. His eyes darken, his jaw clenching just a little as he brushes his lips against my ear, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous tone that always makes my heart race.

“You don’t have to beg, sweetheart,” he growls, and I can feel the tension thickening in the air. “You’re already mine. Always have been.”

The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver down my spine, and I press myself closer to him, needing more. But it’s not enough. Not tonight. I want to feel it—really feel it. I want him to take me in a way that leaves no room for doubt, no hesitation. I want to be reminded of just how deeply he owns me, body and soul.

“But I need to feel it,” I whisper, my voice barely holding together. My hands reach for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if I’m afraid he might pull away. I need to touch him. I crave the feeling of his skin against mine. Slowly, my fingers trail up his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of his shirt.

The sensation of touching him sends a rush of desire through me, and I lean forward, pressing my lips to the base of his throat, just under his jawline, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin. He exhales sharply, his hand tightening on my waist, and it makes me bolder. I press myself closer, my hands sliding up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down toward me as if I could somehow make us closer, make this moment last longer.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says softly, but there’s a hunger behind his words. He leans in, his lips hovering just above mine, teasing me with the promise of a kiss. “But you’ll have to be a good girl for daddy. Can you do that?”

His words send a thrill through me, and I feel my breath hitch in my throat. I nod, too overwhelmed to speak at first, but when his hand slides up my back, sending tingles through my skin, I find my voice.

“Yes… please, daddy,” I whisper, my voice breaking as I surrender fully to him. “I need it.”

He doesn't waste a second. His lips crash against mine, and it’s like the dam inside me breaks. The kiss is deep, urgent, and I cling to him, my hands sliding up into his hair, pulling him closer. His hands are everywhere—on my waist, my back, my thighs—and I can’t get enough of him. Every touch feels like a claim, like he’s reminding me with every move that I belong to him.

I gasp when his hands slip under my dress, gripping my thighs, pulling me onto his lap as he sits back against the pillows. The shift makes me dizzy with want, and when I straddle him, feeling the hard length of him pressing against me, my heart pounds wildly in my chest.

“You’re mine,” he growls against my lips, his voice rough with desire. “Don’t ever forget that, baby.”

“I won’t,” I breathe out, but my words are swallowed by another kiss, deeper this time, more possessive. He’s taking everything, and I’m giving it all to him, because that’s what I want—to be his completely.

I pull back just enough to catch my breath, but the space between us is too much. I lean forward again, this time running my hands along his arms, feeling the strength beneath my fingers as I press my lips softly to the side of his neck. I feel him shudder under my touch, and it sends a surge of satisfaction through me.

“I want you to touch me, daddy,” I whisper, my lips brushing against his skin, my voice shaking with need. “I need to feel you.”

His hands roam over my body, claiming every inch of me. My skin feels like it’s on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation as he teases, touches, and commands. His fingers grip my hips as he rocks me against him, slow at first, but the friction between us builds fast, and soon, we’re both lost in the heat of it.

I moan into his mouth, and he groans in response, his hands sliding under my dress again, lifting it higher. When his fingers skim along the edge of my panties, I gasp, my body arching toward him, desperate for more.

“You want daddy to take care of you, baby?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck, his voice dripping with dark promise.

“Yes,” I whimper, my hands clinging to his shoulders. “Please…”

His thumb grazes over my swollen center through the thin fabric, and I cry out, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through me. He’s teasing me, taking his time, and it’s driving me crazy. I grind against his hand, needing more, but he holds me still, making me wait.

“Such a needy girl,” he growls, his voice rough, full of desire. “But you know you have to be a good girl for daddy if you want more.”

“I’ll be good,” I plead, my voice desperate. “I’ll be so good for you, daddy.”

A wicked smile tugs at his lips as he watches me squirm in his lap, his hands moving possessively over my thighs again. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice like a promise, sending another wave of heat through my body.

He finally gives in, his fingers slipping under the lace of my panties, finding me wet and ready for him. He groans softly as he slides a finger inside, his thumb circling just where I need him the most.

“Look at you,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. “So ready for me… You really are mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I gasp, my head falling back as his touch pushes me closer to the edge. “I’m yours, daddy.”

His movements are slow, deliberate, as though he’s savoring every moment, every sound that escapes my lips. I feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside me, my breath coming faster as he works me closer to that edge.

“Daddy...” I whisper, my voice a plea, a confession, my body trembling with anticipation. “Please…”

He shifts beneath me, his grip tightening as he lifts me just slightly. I feel him, hard and ready, pressed against me, and my breath hitches. His eyes lock with mine, and in that moment, it’s like the whole world narrows to just the two of us, to this connection that binds us together so deeply it’s almost overwhelming.

“You’re mine, baby,” he growls, his voice rough, possessive, and full of that dark promise. “And tonight, I’m going to remind you exactly what that means.”

With one slow, deliberate movement, he pulls me down onto him, and the sensation sends waves of pleasure coursing through me. I can feel him, thick and hard, pressing against me, igniting every nerve ending in my body. It’s a slow burn, a delicious anticipation that makes my heart race and my breath quicken.

“Are you ready?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, filled with that dark, possessive energy that makes my stomach flutter. I nod, my mind foggy with desire. All I can think about is him, how much I need him inside me, how he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world.

“Say it, baby,” he urges, his eyes locking onto mine, searching for that connection that runs deeper than just the physical. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m ready for you, daddy,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I lean closer, my lips brushing against his. “I need you.”

With a primal growl, he grabs my waist, guiding me down onto him. The feeling of him filling me completely makes me gasp, the sensation overwhelming and euphoric. I let out a soft whimper as he stretches me, and he groans in response, his hands gripping me tighter as he pulls me down, claiming me in the most intimate way.

“God, you feel so good,” he breathes, his voice a low rumble against my ear as I start to move. Each thrust sends shivers down my spine, each connection between us sending sparks of pleasure radiating through my body.

But he doesn’t let me take the lead for long. With a swift motion, he flips us over, positioning me beneath him. My breath catches as he looks down at me, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper—a fierce protectiveness that sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“Let daddy take care of you,” he says, his voice smooth and commanding. I nod, my body humming with anticipation as he thrusts into me with a controlled intensity that takes my breath away.

“Just like that, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl as he sets a steady rhythm. “You’re doing so good for daddy.”

Every thrust fills me completely, and I can’t help but moan his name, the pleasure building with each powerful movement. I dig my nails into his shoulders, anchoring myself as he takes me higher, deeper into the bliss we’re creating together.

“Daddy, please,” I whimper, my hips instinctively bucking against him, urging him to go faster, harder. I want to feel every inch of him, every powerful thrust igniting the fire within me.

“Is that what you want, baby?” he asks, his breath hot against my ear as he increases the pace, his body moving with a relentless rhythm that sends shockwaves of pleasure through me. “You want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes, please!” I cry, my voice breathy and desperate as I lose myself in the pleasure he’s giving me. The heat between us is palpable, a magnetic pull that draws us closer, urging me to surrender completely.

With each thrust, he pulls me further into ecstasy, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his gaze locked onto mine, making me feel like the only girl in the world. “I could watch you like this forever.”

His words wrap around me like a warm blanket, fueling the fire inside me. I lean up slightly, capturing his lips with mine, pouring all my love and longing into the kiss. It’s a connection that goes beyond the physical—a promise of what’s to come, a deeper bond forming with every passionate movement.

“Daddy,” I breathe against his lips, the tension building as I feel myself teetering on the edge of bliss. “I’m so close. Please, don’t stop.”

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice firm yet tender. I meet his gaze, feeling the intensity between us ignite further as he thrusts deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside me. I gasp, feeling every nerve ending awaken as pleasure washes over me in waves.

“Come for me, baby,” he urges, his voice low and dark, the command igniting a fire within me. I nod, my body responding to his words as I let myself fall into the bliss he’s created.

With one final thrust, I’m spiraling over the edge, my body convulsing around him as the pleasure washes over me in waves. My cries echo in the room, and I see stars behind my eyelids as I surrender to the bliss, feeling him fill me completely, his grip tightening as he joins me in that intoxicating release.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear as he rides out the waves of pleasure with me. “You’re perfect.”

As the last tremors of ecstasy fade, I collapse against him, panting, my heart racing as I try to catch my breath. He holds me close, his hands stroking my back soothingly, grounding me in the aftermath of our passion. I feel safe here, enveloped in his warmth, knowing I’m exactly where I belong.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice low and tender as he brushes my hair back from my face. I nod, a blissful smile breaking across my lips as I nestle against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath me.

“I’m more than okay,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

He chuckles softly, a sound that rumbles through his chest and vibrates against me. “That’s just the beginning, baby. We have all the time in the world to explore this together.”

As I pull back, I can’t help but tease, a playful glint in my eyes. “So, does this mean I’m officially your good girl?”

He smirks, a wicked gleam in his eyes that sends another flutter of excitement through me. “Oh, darling, being my good girl means you’ll discover just how much I crave you.”

The air between us is charged with a sweet, lingering tension, and I can feel my heart swelling with affection. In this moment, I realize just how deep our connection runs, how beautifully intertwined our lives have become. Everything else fades away, and it’s just the two of us, wrapped in our own world.

I lean in closer, my lips hovering just above his, searching his gaze for reassurance. “Then show me,” I whisper, my heart racing with anticipation.

He leans forward, closing the distance between us as our lips meet in a gentle kiss, soft and slow. It’s a sweet caress that blossoms into something deeper, igniting the embers of passion that still smolder between us. I melt against him, my fingers weaving into his hair as I deepen the kiss, pouring all my gratitude, my love, and my desire into that moment.

As our lips move in perfect harmony, I can feel the warmth of his body against mine, the way he holds me close as if he never wants to let go. The kiss is filled with promises—of exploration, of trust, and of a love that knows no bounds. I lose myself in the taste of him, in the feeling of his hands cradling my face, as if I’m the most precious thing in the world.

Finally, we pull apart, breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. I can see the affection shining in his eyes, the way he looks at me as if I’m everything he’s ever wanted.

“You belong to me,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with warmth. “No one else will ever have you.”

A thrill runs through me at his words, wrapping around my heart like a warm embrace. “I know,” I reply softly, sincerity lacing my voice. “And I want to explore every part of this with you.”

With that, we lean in again, our lips meeting in another soft, lingering kiss that seals our bond, the promise of what’s to come lingering in the air around us.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield smut #kinktober 2024 #metallica smut #metallica one shot #james hetfield x you

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 27 days ago

Text

Warnings: Strip game, a bit of explict language, sexual content, teasing.

I didn’t know how the night would turn out when we started. It had begun like any other Friday—another movie marathon, takeout scattered around us, and his lazy, teasing smile that always made me laugh a little harder than I meant to. We'd known each other for years, long enough that we could read the subtext in each other's silences. But tonight, there was something different in the air, an electricity simmering just beneath our usual banter.

He shifted on the couch, leaning back with that sly, half-smile that always preceded some kind of challenge.

“You’d never,” he started, his voice laced with amusement.

I glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Never what?”

He shrugged, that smirk deepening. “Give me a show.”

His words caught me off guard, and I laughed, trying to shrug it off. “Please. You think I wouldn’t?”

“Not a chance,” he teased, his gaze roaming over me with a look that was both playful and just serious enough to make my pulse skip. W“You’re all talk.”

“Oh, really?” I said, standing up with a surge of boldness, the hint of his challenge making my heart race. I strode over to the stereo, flicking through my tapes until I found the one I wanted. *9½ Weeks*. I slid it in, pressing play, and after a few seconds of whirring, Joe Cocker’s raspy voice filled the room, the first notes of “You Can Leave Your Hat On” spilling into the space between us.

I turned to see his reaction, and a flicker of surprise crossed his face. He hadn't expected me to take him up on his challenge, but his wide-eyed look of intrigue was all I needed. The thrill in his gaze fueled me as I let my body sway to the slow, pulsing beat of the song. I could feel his eyes on me, and the air seemed to thicken, growing warmer with each note that played.

I rolled my shoulders, letting my arms fall in sync with the rhythm, swaying my hips as I let the beat move through me. I hooked my fingers under the hem of my fitted shirt, lifting it slowly to give him a glimpse of my midriff, teasing him with just enough skin to make his breath hitch.

I took a step back, letting the fabric slide back down, and watched as his gaze darkened, his hands clenching in his lap like he was trying to keep them under control. “What’s wrong?” I teased, enjoying the way his eyes flared with desire. “Still think I’m all talk?”

His voice came out rougher than usual, a low rasp that sent a shiver through me. “You’re…definitely proving me wrong.”

I let my fingers trail over my skirt, teasingly twirling the hem, and leaned forward, my lips curling into a playful smile. “Maybe I should give you a real show.”

With that, I turned my back to him, letting my skirt ride up slightly as I bent over, giving him a view that made the air crackle with tension. I could feel his eyes on me, heat pooling in my stomach as I decided to play this game to its fullest.

I stood up straight, letting the skirt sway around my thighs, and began to unbutton my fitted shirt, savoring the anticipation in the air. “You’re going to have to wait a little longer if you want a real show,” I said, my voice low and teasing.

I let the shirt slide down my arms, finally letting it fall to the floor, exposing my lace bra beneath. I could see the way his eyes widened, his breath catching as he struggled to maintain his composure. The intensity in his gaze only fueled my desire to tease him further.

“Do you like what you see?” I whispered, my voice playful yet sultry, letting my fingers trace along the edge of my skirt.

“More than you know,” he replied, his voice a mix of frustration and admiration, eyes glued to me as I began to sway to the music again, this time moving my hips side to side, drawing closer to him, a teasing grin on my lips.

I hooked my fingers under the waistband of my skirt, inching it down just a little, letting it slide over my hips. His jaw tightened, and he leaned forward, almost as if he couldn’t help himself. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Oh, I know,” I replied, letting the skirt fall just enough to give him a glimpse of my thighs. “But I think you like it.”

Finally, I turned to face him completely, standing there in my lace underwear, the music wrapping around us like a sensual embrace. I took a step closer, my heart racing as I could see the struggle in his eyes. “Still think I won’t?”

Before I could take another step, he grabbed my wrist with a sudden burst of determination and pulled me onto his lap. The unexpected movement took me by surprise, and I landed softly against him, our bodies close, the heat between us rising like a flame.

His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine as he leaned in, his voice low and intense. “You’re in trouble now.”

The music faded into a distant hum, the world around us melting away as we locked eyes, the energy crackling between us, thick with unspoken desire. I could feel his heart pounding against mine, the tension palpable as I settled onto his lap, feeling both exhilarated and nervous.

He brushed a thumb across my cheek, a gentle touch that contrasted with the heat simmering between us. “What if I don’t want to wait anymore?”

I could hardly breathe, the weight of his words hanging in the air, a challenge and an invitation all at once. “Then don’t.”

He pulled me in closer, his lips brushing against mine in a feather-light touch that ignited a wildfire of longing inside me. It was a tentative kiss, filled with both desire and sweetness, and as it deepened, everything else faded away. The music, the teasing, the playful banter—none of it mattered anymore.

Finally, we broke apart, both of us breathless, and he rested his forehead against mine, his hands still holding me close. The warmth of his body enveloped me, grounding me in this moment where everything felt perfectly right.

“Are you always this bold?” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with affection, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.

“Only for you,” I whispered back, smiling as he let out a low chuckle, his lips curving into a smile that softened his gaze.

In that quiet moment, with the music still playing softly in the background, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place, like we’d found exactly where we were meant to be—right here, together.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #kinktober 2024 #james hetfield one shot #james hetfield smut

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 3 days ago

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I had this cute idea and I wanted to write it down, hope you like it!❤

Endless Affection

The sound of the door opening always makes my heart skip a beat. It’s like the whole world pauses, waiting for him to walk in. I barely hear the shuffle of his boots before I’m already moving, practically bouncing as I rush toward the entryway.

“James!” I call out, grinning as his familiar figure comes into view. He’s still halfway through shrugging off his bag when he looks up, his face lighting up as soon as he sees me.

“Babe,” he says softly, his voice carrying that warmth I’ve missed all day. Before he can say anything else, I throw my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. He chuckles, his arms closing around me instantly.

“Miss me much?” he teases, his voice muffled against my hair.

“You know I did,” I mumble, hugging him tighter.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his hazel eyes full of that familiar sparkle. “You know,” he says, his lips twitching into a smile, “this? Right here? This is the best part of my day.”

“Is it now?” I tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Absolutely,” he says, his voice soft but firm. He suddenly steps back, spreading his arms wide. “Come on, Babe. Want another hug?”

I laugh, rolling my eyes, but before I can respond, he swoops in and picks me up, spinning me around like we’re in the middle of some romantic movie. “James!” I squeal, clinging to him even though I can’t stop laughing.

When he sets me down, his grin is boyish and proud. “See? Can’t beat that,” he says, leaning in to press a quick, playful kiss to my nose.

I shake my head, smiling like a fool. It’s always like this when he comes home—full of warmth and these little rituals that make me feel like the luckiest person in the world.

As he gets ready to head back out for work, I find myself following him like always, lingering at his side. He’s tugging his coat on, and I can’t resist stepping in to help. I smooth the fabric over his shoulders, fixing the collar with the precision of someone who has done this a hundred times.

“There,” I say, tilting my head as I give him a quick once-over “Perfect.”

“Thanks, Babe,” he says, his lips quivering into a soft smile. But I’m not done. I lean up on my toes, brushing a quick kiss against his cheek before pulling back just enough to reach for his hair. My fingers ruffle it lightly, and I can’t help but giggle at the way he scrunches his nose.

“Hey!” he protests, his voice full of mock indignation. “Not the hair!”

I shrug, grinning mischievously. “Oh, come on. You love it when I do it.”

He tries to hold back a smile but fails miserably, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “Maybe,” he admits, his hazel eyes twinkling. “But don’t push your luck.”

He rolls his eyes playfully but doesn’t move away. Instead, he leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my forehead.

“Have a nice day at work,” I whisper, my voice soft but full of meaning.

“Thanks, Babe.” His voice is just as gentle, and I feel a little ache in my chest watching him grab his bag and step out the door. The sound of it clicking shut behind him leaves the house feeling too quiet.

But, like always, I can’t help myself. Before I know it, I’m slipping on my slippers and stepping outside. He’s already halfway to his car when he turns back, his eyes finding mine almost instantly.

When he sees me, he stops in his tracks, his lips curving into that heart-melting smile of his. “Babe,” he calls out, shaking his head fondly.

“What?” I ask, grinning as I step closer.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he jogs back to me, his steps quick and purposeful. Before I can say anything else, he’s cupping my face in his hands and kissing me like he’s been waiting all day for it.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against mine. “You don’t have to wait for me like this, you know,” he says softly, his voice full of that teasing affection he does so well.

“I know,” I say, blushing a little. “But I want to. I like seeing you off.”

He stares at me for a moment, his hands sliding down to rest gently on my shoulders. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmurs. His words make my chest flutter, and I can’t help but smile.

I tilt my head, giving him a soft smile. “You’re so sweet.”

“No, I mean it,” he insists, his hazel eyes locking onto mine. “If I could, I’d stay here with you all the time. I wouldn’t leave—ever.” His voice carries a quiet sincerity that makes my chest flutter.

For a moment, I just stare at him, caught in the intensity of his words. Then a playful idea sparks in my mind. “Well,” I say, my smile turning sly, “how about tonight? We could stay in, cuddle up together... all night long.”

His face softens, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Babe, that’s a perfect idea,” he says, leaning in to press a tender kiss to my lips. “I can’t wait to cuddle you, and maybe… we can do something else” he adds with a playful wink.

“James!” I gasp, my face flushing bright red. “You—”

I swat at his arms, but then, in mock exasperation, I add, “You’re unbelievable!”

He chuckles, holding up his hands in mock defense. “Hey, I was just offering a suggestion!” he says, still laughing. “You know I can’t resist you.”

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms with a dramatic sigh. “You’re impossible,” I tease, my voice filled with mock frustration. “I can’t believe you’re the one who’s always pushing things too far.”

James grins, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? So you don’t want to cuddle me tonight, then?”

I pause, pretending to consider it for a moment, tapping my chin dramatically. “Hmm, well... maybe just a little cuddling. But only because you’re so irresistible.”

He leans in, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, lingering kiss. “Lucky for you, I’m always irresistible,” he whispers with a wink.

“Yeah, yeah,” I laugh, swatting his shoulder lightly. “Keep telling yourself that.” I shake my head, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably as I feel my cheeks warm from the playful teasing.

James pulls me into his arms, holding me tight. “You know you love me,” he says, his voice playful but sincere.

“I do,” I admit, resting my head against his chest. “But don’t get too cocky, okay?”

“Oh, I can’t help it,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “You’re the one who loves me this much.”

I roll my eyes again, though it’s hard to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “You’re lucky I do, James.

He steals one more kiss before pulling away, and this time, I’m the one giving him a little push toward his car. “Now go,” I laugh. “You’re going to be late!”

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. But as he walks away, he throws me one last glance over his shoulder.

With a cheeky grin, he pretends to blow me a kiss.

And don’t forget,” he says, blowing me a kiss. “I’ll be thinking of you.”

I catch the kiss with both hands and blow it right back to him. “Hurry up, or you’ll be late” I tease, though my heart is already counting down the hours until he’s back home.

He laughs too, shaking his head as he finally climbs into the car. As he pulls away, I watch until his car disappears down the road, my heart feeling full and light all at once.

I already can’t wait for tonight.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #metallica fluff #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield one shot #metallica x you #metallica x reader #james hetfield x you

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 14 days ago

Text

I had this phrase of the song End of beginning: j"ust trust me, you'll be fine" and I wanted to write something based on it. I hope you like it❤

Just trust me, you'll be fine

The rain had started an hour ago, its soft patter against the windows now a constant hum, mixing with the quiet of the apartment. Normally, I would find it soothing, the rhythmic sound a reminder of cozy evenings spent together, but tonight, it only made the silence feel heavier. It felt as though the whole world was on pause, as if the rain, too, was waiting for something to break.

When James walked in, I felt it instantly—the weight of his presence had shifted. There was no excitement in his steps, no smile, no spark in his eyes. His usual energy was gone. Instead, he moved like someone carrying an invisible burden, his shoulders slumped slightly, his hands buried deep in his pockets as though to keep the rest of himself from escaping.

I watched him from the couch, noting the way he hesitated before meeting my eyes. Normally, he would greet me with that easy, crooked smile, but today, he just seemed lost. I knew that something was wrong, and I knew he wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

"Come here," I said softly, my voice quiet but firm. The invitation hung in the air, gentle but clear. I didn’t need him to speak; I just needed him to come closer.

He stood there for a moment, uncertain, his eyes flickering between me and the space around him. But then he nodded, crossing the room in a few slow strides. He lowered himself beside me, his movements stiff, and before I could even blink, he shifted, his head resting gently on my chest as we both lay back on the couch.

The silence stretched between us. His body was tense, his breaths shallow, and I could feel the weight of whatever was bothering him pressing down on both of us. His arms were tucked tightly by his side, like he was trying to hold himself together, trying to keep whatever he was feeling at bay.

I ran my fingers through his hair, letting the soft rhythm of my touch calm the both of us. I knew he needed time. But it didn’t take long for me to feel his body start to tremble, his chest heaving against mine, like he was fighting to keep it all inside.

I waited, breathing with him, letting the minutes pass. And then, without warning, he broke down.

A sharp, strangled gasp escaped him, followed by a soft, shaky sob that he couldn’t hide. His body jerked against mine, and the tears came without any warning, his shoulders shaking as his breath hitched.

I tightened my arms around him, pulling him closer, cradling him like I could shield him from whatever it was that was tearing him apart. His sobs were muffled against my chest, but the rawness of them hit me like a punch. This was more than just a bad day. This was something deeper, something he’d been carrying for far too long.

I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, my hand running gently over his back. "It's okay," I whispered softly, my voice steady, but thick with emotion. "You’re safe here. Just let it out."

He clung to me, his body shuddering with each tear that fell. I didn’t say anything else; I just let him cry. The pressure, the weight of everything he was holding, needed to be released, and all I could do was hold him until he felt it.

Eventually, the sobs started to slow, the tension in his body beginning to ease. He pulled back slightly, lifting his head from my chest to look at me. His eyes were red, his face streaked with tears, but I could see the exhaustion in his gaze.

I cupped his face gently, wiping away the tears still clinging to his skin. His lips trembled, and I could see the fear in his eyes—the fear of being vulnerable, of being weak. But there was something else, too. A deep ache, the kind that comes when you've been carrying something too heavy for too long and you’re just too tired to carry it alone anymore.

“James…” I whispered softly, my thumb brushing over his cheek. “What’s going on, my love?"

He hesitated for a moment, and I could feel the weight of his thoughts, like he wasn’t sure if he could say it out loud. But then his voice broke, low and raw.

“I’m just… so overwhelmed,” he confessed, his words barely a whisper. “With the band, with everything… I feel like I’m not enough. Like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. I can’t keep up with everyone’s expectations. And I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m failing, that I’m not good enough for you, for them…”

He swallowed hard, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts, as if the weight of his thoughts was too much to put into words. "I don't know if I can do this anymore. Everything feels so... empty. Like no matter how much I give, it’s never enough."

I felt a sharp pang in my chest. James had always been the one everyone leaned on. The one who worked tirelessly, the one who held it all together. But I could see now, that in trying to hold up everyone else, he had forgotten to take care of himself.

I pulled him closer, my hands running soothingly through his hair as I pressed my cheek to the top of his head. “You don’t have to be perfect, James," I said softly. "You don’t have to be everything for everyone. You’re enough, just the way you are. You’re my everything.”

He buried his face in my chest again, his breathing still shaky, but his grip on me tight, like he was afraid to let go.

“You don’t have to carry it all alone," I continued, my voice calm but full of conviction. "I’m here. You’re not alone, okay? Not now, not ever. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He sniffled, his tears slowing down, but the fear still lingered in his eyes. “But what if I’m not good enough?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, like he was afraid I might hear him too clearly.

I cupped his face in my hands, guiding him gently so that our eyes met. Then, without thinking, I kissed him—soft, slow, a simple reassurance. My lips lingered on his for a moment, a soft promise that everything would be okay. When I pulled away, I rested my forehead against his, our breaths mingling.

“Just trust me,” I said softly, brushing my hand through his hair, letting the warmth of my touch offer him something to hold onto. “You’ll be fine, my love. You’re more than enough. I see you. All of you, and it’s more than I could ever ask for. I’m so proud of you, James.”

There was a long, quiet pause, the only sound between us the soft beat of our hearts, the rhythm of us simply being together. And then, after a moment, he lifted his head, his eyes softer now, and a small, hesitant smile appeared on his lips.

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispered, his voice full of quiet awe. “You’re the best thing I have. How did I get so lucky to have you?”

I smiled softly, my heart swelling at his words. “I’m the lucky one,” I whispered back, my fingers brushing the soft skin of his cheek. “We’re both lucky, because we have each other.”

His smile deepened, and for the first time that night, I saw a flicker of the James I knew—the one who was strong, who was capable, but also vulnerable and real. And in that moment, as the rain continued to fall outside, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #metallica fluff #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield one shot #nausicaamusiclover20

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 19 days ago

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Hello I hope you are having a good day))

Can you do 2010s James in his Mohawk/punk era & younger reader who used to be a pole dancer to make money for college? And she’s shy about it cause she’s afraid he’ll slut shame her? But he accidentally finds out and thinks it’s very hot? And asks her for a private performance? And he just can’t sit still during her dance so it ends up very sexy????

Hello, thanks for asking. I'm good, I hope you're having a good day too. I hope you like this🔥❤

Too hot to handle

I leaned against the doorframe, waiting for my friend to finish her story when I felt his presence behind me before I even saw him. I froze, my friend’s teasing words still hanging in the air.

“So, do you ever miss the old days? I can still picture you on that stage. Can’t believe you pole danced to pay for college. Classic!”

I forced a laugh, glancing over my shoulder, only to lock eyes with James. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching me with a look of both surprise and interest.

His brow lifted. “A pole dancer, huh?”

I swallowed hard, feeling my face heat up. Of all people, James was the last person I wanted to know. Sure, we’d been getting close, but he was… well, James Hetfield. I was sure he’d see my past as shameful, or worse, like I was some kind of… I don’t know, groupie. My mind scrambled for an excuse, something to brush it off, but before I could, he smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"That’s pretty badass,” he said, surprising me. “Never would’ve guessed.” He paused, his gaze turning darker. “Think you could give me a private show?”

I blinked, half-laughing, thinking he was joking, but he just looked at me, his smirk widening. It wasn’t the response I’d expected; I felt my stomach flip, both embarrassed and intrigued.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

My heart pounded as I took in his challenge, his eyes holding mine with a bold confidence that left me breathless. Suddenly, I felt the temptation to show him that side of myself, to let him see me as I used to be. So I nodded, feeling a rush of nerves and excitement.

"Fine," I thought. *If he wants a show, I’ll give him one.

In the dimly lit room, I set up a slow, pulsing song, feeling that familiar rhythm as I closed my eyes. It had been years since I’d done this, but as the music started, I found myself sinking into it, letting the beat guide my movements.

I started slow, hips swaying, fingertips grazing my skin as I moved, my eyes half-closed. When I opened them, I was met with James’s gaze, fierce and unblinking. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, watching me with an intensity that made my pulse skip. Gone was the smirk, replaced by something deeper, darker, and far more intense.

The way he looked at me made me feel powerful, sexy in a way I’d almost forgotten I could be. The more I moved, the bolder I became. I let my body take over, dipping low, sliding my hands down my sides, feeling his gaze heat up with each movement. His breathing grew heavier, and I noticed his jaw tighten, his hands clenching as though he was fighting to keep them still.

I arched my back, slowly rolling my hips and catching a glimpse of him through lowered lashes. His eyes were locked on me, his entire focus on every move I made. He swallowed hard, and I could see his fingers flex against his knees, his knuckles white as he restrained himself. The intensity of his reaction sent a rush through me, a new sense of control I wasn’t used to feeling with him.

As I spun, letting my hair fall over my shoulder, I could almost hear him inhale sharply, his gaze so dark and hungry it sent a shiver down my spine. The tension in the air was electric, and the closer I moved, the more I felt him unravel. He shifted in his seat, his body leaning forward, almost as if he was about to reach out and touch me. But he held himself back, his eyes roaming over me with that same ravenous look that made my cheeks flush.

Finally, I came to a stop just in front of him, the song ending, my breath coming in shallow pants as I held his gaze. For a moment, he just stared at me, his chest rising and falling heavily, his eyes filled with a raw, unfiltered desire. Then, in one quick motion, he reached out, grabbing my waist and pulling me into his lap.

“You’ve been hiding this side of yourself from me,” he murmured, his voice rough as his hands tightened around my waist.

I blushed, suddenly shy, barely able to meet his gaze. “I… didn’t think you’d like it,” I whispered, afraid he might see me differently. “Didn’t want you to think badly of me… or that I was just some…” I trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

His eyes softened for a split second, his hand sliding up to cup my cheek, brushing his thumb along my jaw. “Think badly of you?” He shook his head, his voice low, almost reverent. “I think I might want you even more now. You’re incredible, you know that?”

The sincerity in his voice made my heart skip, and my shyness started to fade as he leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. “You were up there on that stage, huh? Moving just like that?” His tone was teasing, low and gravelly, but the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t kidding. “Bet you had every guy in that place wrapped around your little finger, didn’t you?”

I shivered, his words sending a rush through me as he traced his fingers slowly up my spine. “You have no idea what it did to me, watching you dance like that. I could barely keep myself in that chair,” he whispered, his lips brushing the skin just below my ear.

His hand slipped down my back, pressing me closer as he angled his head, his voice barely a whisper. “Do you know how much I wanted to just… I wanted to touch you ?” His fingers gripped my waist, dragging me even closer against him as he breathed against my neck. “The way you moved… made it impossible to think straight.”

I felt his hand slide up, threading through my hair as he tilted my face to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark and intense, filled with a need that made me shiver. Slowly, he pulled me down, his lips hovering close to mine as he whispered, “It drove me crazy, watching you. Like you were made for this.” His mouth found mine in a kiss that was searing, raw, leaving no space between us as his hands roamed over my back, tracing every curve.

My heart raced, and his hands traveled lower, fingers tracing the line of my thighs, pulling me impossibly close. He leaned back, his hands finding my hips as he guided me to move, matching the rhythm I’d teased him with just moments before. His eyes never left mine as he murmured, “Think you could keep dancing just for me?” His voice was low, barely a whisper. “I’d give anything to see that again, to keep you like this.”

The feel of him, the raw intensity in his words, left me breathless, wanting more, and as he pulled me tighter into him, his mouth traced down to my collarbone, his whispers sending shivers through my whole body.

I leaned into him,, feeling the heat between us rise with every second. His hands slid down my back, pulling me tighter, until there was no space left between us. I could feel the tension in his body, the way he struggled to hold back.

When we finally broke away, breathless and longing, his forehead rested against mine. “I’ve been wanting this for so long,” he whispered, his voice low, the words sending a shiver down my spine.

“I know,” I whispered back, my lips brushing his. “Me too.”

He smiled, a little teasing but still soft, before pulling back slightly and grinning. “So… when do I get that private show, huh?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You really can’t let that go, can you?”

He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I mean, it was pretty damn impressive. I think I deserve at least an encore.”

I couldn’t help but laugh again, leaning in to kiss him once more. “Maybe after we figure out how to get out of this tangled mess, I’ll consider it.”

And with that, we stayed there, tangled in each other’s arms, laughing softly, knowing that whatever came next would be ours to explore—slowly, deeply, and with all the passion that had been building between us. But first, I had to convince him that there were some things best saved for later… no matter how tempting the encore might be.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield one shot #james hetfield imagine #nausicaamusiclover20

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 23 days ago

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Hi Nausicaa 👋👋👋 I’ve requested a work from you before (the AU where James is in biker gang) and it was so good, I couldn’t resist to put another request, I hope it’s ok…

This was particularly inspired by Lana Del Rey (I love her) and beautiful dangerous music video - the one where Fergie is an obsessed fan of Slash (I mean he’s damn fine, but she took it a notch too far…)

It’s gonna be current James x younger reader, so maybe she’s a singer like Lana type (nostalgic, very Americana and most importantly is into older man); and she’s been kinda obsessed with James since she first saw Metallica on MTV- like kissed his poster before going to bed when she was younger obsessed (deffo not like Fergie in the video) and then she got fame and money, she started to collect his guitars, vintage magazines with his interviews, etc. She finally gets to meet him at some awards ceremony and that’s kinda her chance, so she uses her charm like in full force and although James feels guilty for liking her (the damned age gap) he can’t resist? And at some point he confesses to her that he feels to old and he thinks she’s wasting her youth on him, but she consoles him that she never wanted any other man and it leads to sex, and she’s on top and she’s telling him how am he is (can we get daddy kink pretty please🙏)?

I hope you’ll find it interesting and will consider writing it. There are a lot of stories with current James/younger reader, but pretty much all the time, he’s the one initiating the relationship, sex, etc. So I thought it’d be cool to look at it from the other side and have a younger woman seduce him and him trying to resist?

Did you say lana del rey? Well how could I not write something based on my queen, woman, goddess (I had written a one shot based on a song of her that maybe I will publish) Having said this, I hope you like it💕

----

Warnings: use of the word daddy, fem dom, a bit of smut, age gap

Burning desire

The glimmer of Hollywood lights felt both familiar and surreal as I stepped into the awards ceremony, my heart racing with excitement. It was the kind of night I had dreamed about since I first discovered Metallica on MTV. As a teenager, I was a devoted fan, plastering my walls with posters of James Hetfield—his fierce gaze, tousled hair, and leather-clad figure captivating my imagination. I had spent countless nights lost in the world of rock and roll, dreaming of meeting him one day.

When I finally got my break in the music industry, I poured my soul into collecting everything related to him. Vintage magazines filled with his interviews adorned my shelves, each page a time capsule of my admiration. I had even acquired a few of his iconic guitars, their strings echoing the sound of my youthful fantasies. Now, standing here in a red dress that hugged my curves—a nod to the Americana style I cherished—I felt like a star ready to shine. But my heart raced not for the accolades I might receive that night but for the man I had idolized since childhood.

James walked in with an air of effortless cool, surrounded by a small entourage, and I felt my breath hitch. The aura he carried was magnetic, even at a distance. He looked timeless, a rock god who hasn't aged a day in my heart. I took a moment to admire the way his leather jacket hugged his shoulders and how his jeans clung just right, accentuating his strong build.

Finally, I spotted him at the bar, a glass of amber liquid in hand, surrounded by admirers. I took a deep breath, channeling all the confidence I could muster, and approached him, the sound of my heels echoing against the polished floor. Each step felt like a leap toward destiny.

“James?” My voice was steady despite the butterflies dancing in my stomach. He turned, his deep blue eyes locking onto mine, and for a moment, everything else faded away, leaving just the two of us.

“Hey there,” he replied, a charming smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. “What brings you to this event?”

“I’m a singer,” I said, fighting the urge to fan-girl. “Your music was the soundtrack to my youth. I mean, I was obsessed.” I leaned against the bar, feeling the cool surface beneath me as I looked into his eyes.

“Yeah? What did you like most about it?” he asked, genuinely curious.

I leaned closer, emboldened by the moment. “Honestly? Your voice. The way you command a stage. You’ve always had this raw energy that draws people in.”

He chuckled softly, the warmth in his eyes revealing how much he appreciated my honesty. “You don’t meet many fans who end up in the same industry. It’s pretty cool.”

“It’s wild, right? I had to chase my dreams, and now I’m here. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t dream of this moment,” I replied, letting the excitement of it all wash over me.

His gaze deepened, a flicker of something more than just admiration in his eyes. “What’s it like being up there, knowing people are watching?”

I shrugged, feeling bold. “It’s exhilarating. But honestly, standing here with you? Way more nerve-wracking. I think you might be the one person I’d be starstruck over.” I bit my lip, feeling the tension simmer between us.

James looked at me, a mix of amusement and genuine interest. “You’re not afraid to flirt, are you?”

“Why should I be?” I replied playfully, leaning in closer, my breath mingling with his. “Life’s too short to hold back, right?”

As the night wore on, we shared stories, laughter, and glances that ignited a fire between us. The chemistry crackled in the air, palpable and intoxicating, but I also sensed a hesitation from him, a protective wall he was trying to maintain. He seemed torn between desire and duty, and I was determined to break through.

Later, as the evening wound down and the crowd began to disperse, he pulled me aside into a quieter corner. The music faded into the background, leaving a serene silence enveloping us, and it was just the two of us, the air thick with unspoken words.

“I feel like I’m too old for you,” he confessed, his brow furrowing with worry. “You’re still young, and you have your whole life ahead of you.”

My heart raced at his admission, but I stepped closer, looking directly into his eyes, determined to convey my feelings. “You have no idea what I want, James. I’ve never wanted anyone but you. I’ve spent my childhood dreaming of this moment.” I reached up, brushing my fingers against his jawline, feeling the stubble beneath my fingertips. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

His hesitation melted away as he leaned closer, his breath mingling with mine, warm and inviting. “You really mean that?” he asked, his voice low and filled with disbelief.

“Absolutely,” I whispered, feeling the gravity of my words. “You’ve been my fantasy for so long, and now I have you right here.”

Without another word, his lips crashed against mine, igniting a fire that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. I melted into him, my body pressing against his as he deepened the kiss, his hands gripping my waist tightly. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was this moment, this connection.

As the kiss grew more passionate, I felt alive, the heat radiating off him mixing with my own. He pulled back slightly, breathless, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice a low rumble filled with concern and desire.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I declared, my heart pounding with anticipation.

With a smirk that hinted at the mischief lurking beneath his surface, he took my hand, leading me to a private lounge, away from prying eyes. The moment we stepped inside, the door closed behind us, and he pinned me against the wall, his lips crashing into mine again with a fierce urgency.

As our bodies entwined, I could feel the heat radiating off him, and I wanted more. I pushed him back against the couch, climbing atop him, my heart pounding with exhilaration and anticipation.

“You’re so damn hot,” I whispered, feeling the thrill of power wash over me. “Tell me how good I feel.”

His eyes darkened with desire, and he groaned, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he watched me with an intensity that made me ache for him. “God, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Then let’s make it worth it,” I teased, rolling my hips against him, feeling the heat building between us. “I need you to remind me just how good it can be. Show me how much you want me.”

His hands slid up my sides, fingers tracing the curves of my body as he drew me closer. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. You’re so young, and I don’t want to ruin you.”

“Maybe I want to be ruined by you,” I purred, leaning down to whisper in his ear, my lips grazing his skin. “Show me how it feels to be yours. I want to feel you, James.”

“Just remember, you asked for this,” he warned, his voice deep and commanding, sending shivers down my spine. “I won’t hold back.”

I grinned, exhilarated by his words. “I don’t want you to hold back. I want to take control tonight.”

With that, I shifted my position, straddling him with a newfound confidence, my hands finding his shoulders as I leaned in closer. “You’re going to let me take care of you,” I said, my voice low and sultry.

“Is that right?” he replied, a mix of surprise and admiration in his gaze.

“Absolutely,” I declared, grinding against him, feeling him respond beneath me. “I want to feel you lose control as I show you exactly what I want. Just sit back and enjoy it.”

His breath hitched, and I reveled in the way I had him at my mercy. “You’re mine tonight, Daddy,” I teased, the words spilling from my lips as I embraced the thrill of our dynamic. “I want to feel you lose yourself in me.”

His expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and desire crossing his face. “You’re incredible, princess” he murmured, surrendering to the moment as I took the lead.

“Let me remind you just how good it can be,” I whispered, leaning closer, my breath hot against his ear. “You’re going to show me just how much you want me, right?”

With a deep growl, he nodded, his hands gripping my waist as I began to move against him. “Just don’t forget who’s in charge, sweetheart,” he warned, his voice rough with lust.

“Trust me, Daddy. I won’t forget,” I said, my confidence soaring as I took control, guiding our movements with a fierce intensity that ignited the night.

As I brought us both to the edge of ecstasy, I could feel the connection between us deepening, a bond that transcended the physical. With each thrust, I lost myself in him, surrendering to the moment and the man who had been my lifelong obsession.

Finally, as we reached our peak together, I collapsed against him, breathless and glowing. I looked into his eyes, filled with warmth and desire, and I knew what I had to say.

“I love you, James,” I breathed, feeling the weight of the words settle between us. It was a promise, a declaration of everything I felt.

He smiled softly, his hands cradling my face as he whispered back, “I love you too, princess.”

In that dimly lit room, wrapped in each other’s arms, I realized this was just the beginning of our story—a love that would defy the odds and thrive in the spaces between dreams and reality.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #papa het #metallica smut #metallica one shot #james hetfield smut #nausicaamusiclover20

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