#jameshetfield one shot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nausicaamusiclover20 · 1 month 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 · 19 days ago

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hey can you write a fic about reader! x current james?? her parents are away from the country for Christmas and they are very close friends with james? they asked him if he could look after her and come to check if she is studying, eating etc.

the relationship between james and the reader are kinda tense? idk how to explain it but they have a crush for each other. so one day when he came to see how’s she doing the reader is very touchy with him and it ends with smut???

I would love to read something like that

Ps. I love your writings ❤️🫶❤️

Thank you so much! I hope you like it!🔥❤

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, mature themes, explicit language, power dynamics

__________________________

Burning winter

The house felt far too big for just me, especially at night. My parents were off gallivanting across Europe for Christmas, leaving me behind with strict instructions to “stay focused” on my studies.

And, of course, they’d enlisted James to check on me.

The doorbell rang, sending a jolt of anticipation through me. I tried not to look too eager as I opened the door.

There he stood, a faint dusting of snow melting on his dark hair, his broad shoulders wrapped in his coat. James didn’t have to try to look good; he just did. His eyes met mine, and a slow smile curled his lips.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside. His voice, low and smooth, had the same effect it always did—making my pulse quicken.

“Hey.” I closed the door behind him, the chill of the outside air replaced by his warmth.

“Studying hard?” he asked, glancing toward the books I’d spread across the coffee table to give the illusion of productivity.

“Obviously,” I said, feigning innocence.

“Hmm,” he murmured, shrugging out of his coat. His fitted sweater hugged his torso, and I found myself staring at the way it stretched over his chest. I tore my eyes away before he could catch me.

“You can sit,” I said, motioning to the couch.

He hesitated, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he sat down, leaving a polite amount of space between us.

“You don’t have to sit so far away,” I teased, shifting closer.

His lips twitched into a smirk. “Just trying to be professional.”

“Oh, come on. It’s just me,” I said, letting my hand brush lightly against his forearm. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a spark through me.

His eyes flicked down to where my fingers rested, his jaw tightening. “Y/N.” His voice held a warning.

“What?” I asked, tilting my head innocently. My fingers drifted higher, over the fabric of his sweater. “You’re always so tense. Someone needs to help you relax.”

His breath hitched, and I caught the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“Maybe I want to play,” I murmured, leaning closer. My lips were just a breath away from his, and I felt the warmth of his exhale against my skin.

“Y/N,” he said again, but this time my name came out as a growl, low and rough.

I kissed him before he could stop me.

The moment our lips met, the tension between us snapped like a live wire. His hesitation vanished as his hands gripped my waist, pulling me onto his lap.

The kiss was hungry, his lips moving against mine with a heat that left me dizzy. I tangled my fingers in his hair, tugging gently, and he groaned, the sound reverberating through me.

“You’re going to drive me crazy,” he muttered against my lips, his voice thick with need.

“Good,” I whispered, rolling my hips against him.

His reaction was immediate. His hands tightened on my waist, and his head fell back slightly, exposing the strong line of his neck. I leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his skin, savoring the way his breath caught with every touch.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice strained as his hands slid beneath my sweater. His fingers brushed over my bare skin, and I shivered at the sensation.

“Touch me,” I urged, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Careful,” he said, his tone dark, warning. But his hands moved higher, exploring every curve of my waist and back. The roughness of his palms against my skin sent a thrill through me.

I tugged at the hem of his sweater, and he paused only long enough to pull it over his head. My breath hitched as I took in the sight of him—lean, muscular, and impossibly gorgeous.

“See something you like?” he teased, his smirk returning despite the heat in his gaze.

“Maybe,” I said, running my hands over his chest, my nails grazing his skin just enough to make him hiss softly.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured, his lips finding mine again.

This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate. His hands roamed over my body, pulling me closer, as though he couldn’t stand even a sliver of space between us. I felt his lips trail down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin before he kissed the spot just below my ear.

I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “James...”

His name fell from my lips like a plea, and it seemed to undo him. His hands slid down to my thighs, gripping them firmly as he guided my movements against him. The friction sent sparks shooting through me, and I couldn’t stop the soft sounds escaping my lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rough with want. His lips found mine again, capturing every breath, every sigh.

The heat between us built steadily, consuming everything else. His hands never stopped moving, exploring, worshipping, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of me.

My heart raced as I felt James’s hands slide from my waist to my hips, pulling me closer. His lips were on mine, but the kiss was soft, teasing, as if he were waiting for something. Waiting for me to give him permission, or for the right moment to lose himself in the heat of the night.

“I want you, Y/N,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

His hands roamed up my back, brushing against my skin as he slowly pulled my sweater off, the cool air hitting my exposed skin. I raised my arms, allowing him to remove it completely, and he tossed it aside without a second thought. His eyes lingered on me then, his gaze heated and appreciative, his fingers tracing the curve of my shoulders as if memorizing the feel of my skin.

“You’re stunning,” he murmured, his voice a hushed reverence.

Before I could respond, his lips were on my neck again, his kisses soft but insistent. Each press of his mouth against my skin sent a new wave of heat rushing through me. His hands moved lower, fingertips brushing the fabric of my jeans, and I felt the urgency in his touch.

He stopped just before reaching the button, his lips grazing my collarbone. “Let me,” he breathed, the words a quiet request.

I nodded, and with a swift movement, he unbuttoned my jeans, sliding them down my legs. My breath caught as he discarded them, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. His eyes never left mine as his fingers grazed the waistband, giving me a moment to decide if I wanted to go further.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

I could barely find my voice, the need building too quickly inside me. “Yes," I breathed. "Please."

With a slow, deliberate movement, he slid my underwear off, leaving me bare before him. He took a moment to drink in the sight of me, his eyes darkening as he traced the outline of my body with his gaze.

His lips returned to my chest, trailing soft kisses across the tops of my breasts. His touch was reverent, like he was savoring every inch of me, as if he wanted to commit it all to memory. I let out a soft sigh, unable to keep the moan from escaping my lips as his mouth continued its journey downward.

"James," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Please..."

He didn't need further encouragement. His hands gently cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin. His lips followed, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of my chest, then to the other side, his mouth warm against me. The sensation of his lips, his breath, made every nerve in my body spark with desire.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. My hands found their way to the waistband of his jeans, pulling at it urgently, wanting him just as much as he wanted me. He lifted his hips slightly to help, allowing me to strip him of his jeans, and then his boxers, leaving him just as exposed as I was.

We were both breathing heavily now, our bodies close but not yet fully connected. I wanted him, needed him, and I knew he felt the same way.

James cupped my face, bringing my lips to his once more, his kiss deep and hungry. I responded with equal passion, my hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard muscles, the warmth of his skin under my fingertips. The sensation of his body against mine, so close, was nearly overwhelming.

“James… what are you doing?” I asked, my voice breathless, a hint of curiosity mixed with excitement.

He stopped for a moment, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “I’m going to fuck you on this table, Y/N. I can’t wait any longer. You’ve made me crazy.” His words were low, rough, and sent a wave of heat flooding through me.

The bluntness of his admission made my heart race. Part of me wanted to stop him, to ask more questions, but the rest of me— the part that burned for him—wanted nothing more than to feel him, to give in to the heat between us. I didn’t answer with words, but with action, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“You don’t have to ask for permission,” he muttered with a sly grin, his lips brushing mine once again. “I’m taking you, Y/N. You want me just as much.”

His words only fueled the fire inside me. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I wanted him, wanted everything he was offering. And when he finally lowered me onto the table, the cool wood beneath me contrasted sharply with the heat of his body.

James hovered over me for a moment, his hands running down my body as his lips explored my neck, my chest, as if trying to memorize every inch of me. The feeling of him above me, so close, but still not enough, made my skin tingle with anticipation.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, his voice softer now, but still laced with that raw hunger. His hands rested on my thighs, fingertips tracing circles on the sensitive skin there.

“Yes,” I whispered, my hands moving to the waistband of his jeans, undoing them quickly, desperate to feel him against me. “I want you, James. Now.”

He smirked down at me, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “You’re gonna get what you fucking need, babe. Trust me."

James..." I whispered, my voice thick with desire. I wanted him—needed him—so badly it hurt.

"Spread your legs for me," he ordered, his voice commanding but laced with a raw edge that sent a jolt of excitement through me.

I obeyed without hesitation, my legs parting as I looked up at him. My heart was hammering in my chest as he stepped even closer, his body hovering above mine. "That's my good girl," he murmured, his hands trailing down my body, sending shivers of pleasure through me.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear, his voice low and filled with lust. "You're so fucking perfect," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "I’ve been thinking about this moment—how it would feel to have you, to finally touch you the way I’ve wanted."

His words made me ache for him more, the anticipation nearly unbearable. I couldn’t take it any longer. "Please, James," I breathed, my voice desperate. "I need you."

He smirked, his lips brushing against my neck as his hands slid down to my waist. "You want me?" he asked, his voice dark with desire. "You want me to fuck you, make you feel everything?"

I nodded, the words caught in my throat. "Yes," I gasped, my hands gripping the edge of the table as I arched up into him. "I need you so badly."

His eyes locked onto mine, a smoldering intensity in them. "Good. You’re gonna get what you need," he growled, his hands moving to my hips as he positioned himself between my legs. "Hold on to the table, baby. Don’t move."

He thrust into me with a force that made me gasp, the sudden stretch of him overwhelming. My body trembled beneath him, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I met him, pushing back against him, urging him to go deeper, faster.

"Fuck," he groaned, his eyes closing briefly. "So tight... so fucking perfect." His thrusts grew faster, each one deeper than the last. "You feel incredible around me, Y/N. So fucking tight. I could stay inside you forever."

I moaned beneath him, my body trembling with each powerful thrust. "James," I gasped, "So good."

His pace increased, and I felt my body tightening in response, the tension building with every thrust. His hand moved to my clit, rubbing it in tight circles, adding to the delicious pressure.

"You’re so close, I can feel it," he muttered, his voice rough. "Let go, baby. Come for me."

The words sent me over the edge. I gasped, my whole body trembling as the orgasm ripped through me. My back arched off the table, my fingers digging into the wood, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me.

"Fuck, Y/N," James groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he followed me, his body shuddering above me. "So fucking good. I’m not stopping until you’re completely fucked out."

He slammed into me once more, the final thrust sending him over the edge. I felt him pulse inside me, his release filling me as he groaned my name, his hands gripping my hips hard.

We stayed there for a moment, both of us catching our breath, connected in that intimate silence, our bodies still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened.

James slowly pulled out, looking down at me with a mix of affection and desire. His hands gently brushed the hair from my face. "You’re amazing," he said softly, his voice no longer commanding but tender.

I smiled weakly, still feeling the aftershocks of pleasure. "So are you," I whispered, my voice hoarse.

James bent down, placing a soft kiss on my forehead before pulling me into his arms. He paused for a moment, looking around the room. With a small, wry grin, he whispered, "Well... I guess it’s good your parents are still away, huh?"

I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in the room lifting just a little. "Yeah, I guess so," I responded, my voice still breathless but lighter now. "Wouldn’t want anyone walking in on... this."

He chuckled, pulling me closer into his embrace. The warmth of his body against mine felt comforting, almost surreal, considering what we’d just shared. "Right," he murmured, his tone still low and teasing. "But, hey, I wouldn’t mind if they stayed away a little longer. We’ve got time."

I smiled, my head resting against his chest as I closed my eyes. "Definitely," I agreed softly, feeling the quiet intimacy of the moment settle between us. With my parents still away on their extended trip, the house felt emptier—just us here now, the world outside forgotten.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield one shot #metallica smut #james hetfield #james hetfield smut #papa het #metallica x you #james hetfield x you #reqs open #metallica x reader #nausicaamusiclover20

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 7 days ago

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So, apparently my crush on James reached the stage when just reading stories isn’t enough, I have to start requesting them)))

Black album James x ballerina reader (pretty please smut), where he’s just obsessed with their size difference and the fact that she’s very flexible? Like she pretty much drowns in his shirts, her hands are fragile compared to his, etc? one day, he comes to hotel after sound check and sees her doing her stretches in his shirt and her pointe shoes and that’s too much for him? He just has to make love to her? Maybe he is making references to Beaty and the beast ballet? Like James, the beast (metal band, rough guy, always grumpy) finally captured his beauty and will not let her go?

Thank you))

I hope you like it!❤

Warnings: Explicit Content,Adult Themes, Sexual Content light Possessiveness, Physical Intimacy

___________

In the Arms of the Beast

I didn’t hear the door open—I was too lost in my stretches, the slow pull of muscles and the grounding rhythm of my breath keeping me focused. The air in the hotel room was still, save for the faint rustle of fabric as I moved. James’s shirt, massive on me, slipped over one shoulder as I bent forward, palms flat against the floor.

The shirt smelled like him—leather, a touch of smoke, and something warm I could never quite name. It made me feel wrapped in him, even when he wasn’t here.

I was midway through a stretch, my legs extended in a perfect split, when a familiar growl broke the silence.

“You trying to kill me, darlin’?”

I jerked upright, my heart skipping a beat. Turning my head, I found him standing there, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. His boots were still on, his hair slightly mussed from the day’s soundcheck, and his eyes… Oh, God, his eyes. They were locked on me like a predator that had found its prey.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He didn’t move, just stood there, drinking me in. His gaze traveled slowly, lingering on my legs, then the shirt that barely reached the tops of my thighs. His expression darkened, his lips curling into a crooked grin that sent a shiver down my spine. “Hell of a sight to walk into.”

Heat flooded my face, and I tried to play it off, standing and brushing down the oversized shirt. “I was just stretching.”

“Stretching,” he repeated, his voice low and rough, like gravel under heavy boots. He finally moved, stepping closer, and my pulse quickened. “You look like you’re dancing for me.”

I laughed nervously, though his intensity made it hard to breathe. “It’s not like that.”

But he was already closing the distance, his big hands finding my waist. His palms were rough against my skin, but his touch was gentle, reverent even. “You’re drowning in this shirt,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over the fabric. “Look at you. So damn tiny.”

My hands instinctively rested on his forearms, the contrast between us impossible to ignore. His arms were solid, his muscles thick and corded under my fingers. Next to his, my hands looked fragile, almost doll-like. He noticed it too, his gaze dropping to where I touched him, a quiet groan escaping his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice soft but loaded with something raw. “Like somethin’ out of a story. Beauty and the Beast.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, his hand slid up, tilting my chin so I was looking right into those piercing eyes. The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, warm and commanding. The kiss stole my breath, every bit of him consuming me in the best way.

His hands moved, gripping my hips as he pulled me against him. “Mine,” he growled against my lips. The word sent a thrill down my spine. “You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

My heart pounded as I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed like I weighed nothing at all. His shirt rode up as he laid me down, exposing my bare legs and the ribbons of my pointe shoes.

He paused, hovering over me, his eyes dark with hunger. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“James…” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and desire.

His hands were everywhere—exploring, testing. He bent my leg, his touch slow and deliberate, as though marveling at my flexibility. His grin turned wicked as I arched beneath him, a soft gasp slipping from my lips.

“Shh, darlin’,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to my neck. His teeth grazed my skin, sending a jolt of heat through me, and then his tongue followed, soothing the spot. “Let me take care of you.”

James’s hands slid under the oversized shirt I wore, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of my stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His eyes darkened as he glanced up at me, a low growl escaping his throat.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good in this shirt. But it’s in the way,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I need to see you.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I lifted my arms as he tugged the shirt up and over my head, throwing it to the side without a second thought. I was left exposed before him, my skin flushed and my breath shallow as he took in the sight of me, his gaze almost possessive.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rough as his hands traced down my arms, over my shoulders, and to the curve of my waist. His touch was like fire, leaving me aching for more.

His lips trailed along my neck, his breath hot against my skin, before moving lower, over my collarbone. As his hands gently cupped my breasts, I gasped at the feeling of his thumbs brushing over my nipples, hardening at his touch.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his mouth descending further, kissing along the top of my chest before moving to one nipple. He flicked his tongue over the hardened peak, sending a shiver through me.

I arched into him, my hands tangling in his hair as he lavished attention on me, his beard brushing against my skin in a way that made my entire body hum with pleasure. The sensation was both tender and intense, and I couldn't help but moan softly, feeling my body come alive under his touch.

But it was the way his hands moved, the way his fingers lightly traced the curve of my hips, that drove me wild. The gentleness with which he treated me, as though I were something precious, only added to the fire building inside.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling. It was a plea, though I didn’t know for what exactly, only that I needed him to make me feel.

With a soft chuckle, he pulled away for a moment, eyes dark with desire. "You’re so eager, darlin’. I’m not going anywhere. Just need to take my time with you."

His words, those quiet promises of patience, set my heart racing. Slowly, he lowered his body, kissing his way down my chest, over my stomach, and further still, until he hovered between my legs.

His eyes locked with mine, filled with a heat that made my breath catch. "Let me taste you, baby," he whispered, his voice hushed, reverent.

The words, the way he said them, stirred something deep within me. I parted my legs slightly, giving him the space he needed, feeling my pulse quicken with every inch closer he came.

Suddenly, he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the cool wall, enveloping me with his warmth. I felt my heart beating faster, his strong frame looming over me in a possessive yet gentle way. The heat of his body radiated against mine, sending shivers of anticipation down my spine.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending a thrill through me. "I couldn’t resist. You’re just too tempting right now."

“Maybe I wanted you to,” I whispered back, feeling bold, excitement dancing in my chest.

Before I could respond further, he leaned in, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was electrifying—hunger mixed with tenderness—as he poured his desires into the moment. I melted into him, my hands instinctively sliding into his hair, gripping the soft strands as he began to explore.

He broke the kiss to trail his lips along my jawline and down to my neck, where he lingered, his breath hot against my skin. I gasped, tilting my head back, giving him better access. “God, you taste so good,” he breathed against my collarbone.

“Then don’t stop,” I urged, shivering at his words.

As if sensing my need, he slowly sank to his knees in front of me, his eyes smoldering with intensity. I felt vulnerable yet safe under his gaze, my body aching for him.

“Please, James,” I begged softly, my voice barely above a whisper, my fingers curling tighter in his hair, a mixture of desperation and exhilaration coursing through me.

With a smirk, he leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against my core. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said, his tone both commanding and soothing. And then he buried his face between my thighs.

The sensation was overwhelming—his tongue skillfully teasing me as he explored every inch of my softness. I gasped, the pleasure sending jolts of electricity coursing through me. I couldn’t help but rock my hips closer, urging him on, craving every pleasurable flick.

“James,” I moaned, the sound of his name spilling from my lips like a sweet invitation. His smirk against me made my heart race even faster.

“Feel good, baby?” he murmured, pausing briefly. The wicked look in his eyes only fueled my desire.

“More than you can imagine,” I breathed, arching my back, desperate for more. “Don’t stop, please…”

As he continued, I felt myself teetering on the edge, every flick of his tongue driving me closer. “You’re so good at this,” I panted, lost in the moment. “You know how much I crave this.”

“Only the best for you,” he replied between teasing kisses, his voice low and sultry. He paused and gave me a look filled with heat. “You deserve to be spoiled, babe.”

With my hands gripping his hair tighter, I pulled him closer. “Then spoil me.”

He was relentless, his mouth devouring me in a way that sent shockwaves through my body. “You’re delicious,” he said, a hint of possessiveness lacing his words. “I could stay here all night.”

“God, James,” I gasped, feeling another wave of pleasure building inside me. “I’m—”

He cut me off with a hard, swift move, pushing me over the edge, and I cried out in ecstasy. Colors exploded behind my eyelids as waves of bliss washed over me.

When I finally came down from my high, he stood, brushing his lips against mine with a possessive smirk. “You okay?” he asked, concern mingling with the raw desire in his eyes.

“Better than okay,” I whispered, feeling electric currents still dancing through my body. “Now I want you.”

His brow arched playfully, desires swirling like a tempest in his eyes. “You think you can handle me?” he teased, leaning closer.

I smirked back, feeling daring. “I’ve handled you before, haven’t I?”

“Touché,” he said with a chuckle, but his expression turned serious. “You ready for this?”

“Always,” I assured him, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

With a single motion, he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around him as he pressed me against the wall. I could feel him, hard and ready, throbbing against my core, and the intensity made my breath quicken. “You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?” he said, his voice thick with need.

“Only for you,” I breathed. “Always for you.”

He grinned wickedly, his breath ghosting across my ear. “Then let’s see how much you can take.” With that, he sank into me in one smooth motion, and I gasped as he filled me completely.

“God, yes,” I breathed, losing myself in the sensation. “You feel incredible.”

“Damn right I do,” he growled, driving deeper. “And you’re mine.”

The rhythm of our bodies colliding filled the air, the sound a symphony of passion and urgency. “Look at me, Y/N,” he demanded, his eyes locked onto mine. I nodded, surrendering completely to him, my heart racing as I matched his intensity.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he urged, his breath ragged.

“James, it feels—oh god, it feels amazing,” I moaned, my body arching against his. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“That's right, baby. I want to hear you say it. I want you to remember how good I make you feel,” he said, his voice low and dark, sending shivers up my spine.

“James, you make me feel so good,” I whimpered, desperate for him. “Don’t stop. Just like that.”

With each thrust, he buried himself deeper, igniting flames of pleasure that threatened to consume me. The heat between us crackled, the world beyond us fading to nothing as we lost ourselves in each other.

“C’mon, babe. Let it go for me,” he urged, his voice a gravelly whisper as he picked up the pace, the need pushing both of us toward the brink.

“James, I’m so close,” I gasped, urgency flooding my voice.

“Then let go for me,” he commanded, thrusting harder, each movement focused solely on driving me to that sweet release. I could feel myself slipping, my breath hitching.

With one final deep thrust, I came undone, a wave of pleasure crashing over me, drawing out a desperate cry that echoed in the room. I felt him surge with me, his grip tightening as he lost himself inside me, his own moans harmonizing with mine.

In the aftermath, as our breaths mingled, he cradled my face in his hands, his touch gentle amidst the overwhelming intensity. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, his eyes softening as they bore into mine.

I smiled, relishing the aftermath of our passion. “So are you,” I replied, my fingers trailing along his jaw. “You always know how to make me feel amazing.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “And I’ll keep making you feel that way, because you deserve it.”

With a warmth filling my chest, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his once more, feeling grateful for this moment and the man who held me so tenderly yet fiercely. In James’ arms, I knew I had found something extraordinary.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #metallica smut #metallica x reader #metallica x you #james hetfield one shot #james hetfield #james hetfield smut #jameshetfieldxreader #jameshetfield x you #reqs open #nausicaamusiclover20

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 16 days ago

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Hi :]

Could u do rough passionate sex with Jason :] I feel like even though he’s on top, he’d still be very whiny… maybe more vocal than you…

I hope you like it!❤🔥

Warnings: Explicit Content, Graphic Sexual Content,Strong Language,Dominance Themes, Mature Themes

Moans in the Dark

The air between us crackled with tension, so thick that I could barely breathe. Jason’s eyes were locked on mine, dark and full of hunger, and I knew in that moment that there was no turning back. His body was so close to mine that I could feel the heat radiating from him. Every step he took toward me made my heart race faster, anticipation curling in my stomach.

Without a word, he closed the distance, his lips crashing into mine with a desperate urgency. His kiss was deep and hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. His hands were everywhere, pulling me closer, feeling the softness of my skin, the heat of my body under his touch. I moaned softly against his mouth, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

“You’re mine tonight,” he whispered between kisses, his voice rough, filled with a hunger that sent a shiver through me. “And I’m not letting you go.”

His words made my heart race even faster, the need in his voice igniting something deep inside me. I wanted him—needed him—more than anything. My body was already on fire, aching for him.

Jason’s hands moved quickly, tugging at my clothes, pulling my shirt off with an urgency that made me gasp. He kissed down my neck, his lips hot against my skin, moving lower, lower, until he was kissing the curve of my breast. I couldn’t stop myself from moaning louder, my back arching slightly as he lavished attention on me.

His lips ghosted over my stomach, and I gasped when he suddenly dropped to his knees, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “I’ll make you scream for me.”

I couldn’t speak. My body was already trembling with need, every inch of me desperate for him. I parted my legs wider, silently begging him to continue. He didn’t hesitate. His mouth found me, hot and hungry, the tip of his tongue flicking against my skin before he licked me with slow, teasing strokes.

A breathless moan escaped my lips, but Jason’s groan was louder, rougher, vibrating through me. “God, you taste fucking incredible,” he muttered against me, his tongue licking deeper, his hands gripping my hips as he held me in place.

Every flick of his tongue made my body shudder, and I couldn’t stop myself from responding. My hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer, urging him on. “Please, Jason,” I gasped, my voice trembling. “More... I need more.”

He growled in response, and I could hear his breath quicken as he pushed deeper, the sound of his moans filling the room. His sounds were so loud, so raw, that they pushed me to the edge. Every time his tongue flicked against me, I was lost in the sensation.

“You want me?” he asked, his voice hoarse, louder than my own breathless moans. “Then show me. Beg for it.”

“Please, Jason,” I gasped, my legs trembling with the pressure building inside me. “I need you. Now.”

Jason pulled back for a moment, looking up at me with dark, possessive eyes. “You’re fucking perfect,” he growled, his voice filled with admiration and lust. He stood, his hands gripping my thighs as he moved between my legs, positioning himself at my entrance.

I could barely breathe. His cock was hard and thick, and I could already feel the intensity of him, just by the way he looked at me. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer to him. Without another word, he thrust into me in one powerful motion, filling me completely.

The sensation of him inside me made me gasp, the stretch of him nearly overwhelming. But before I could adjust, Jason’s pace picked up. He thrust into me hard, and I couldn’t stop the loud moan that ripped from my throat. But Jason’s moan was louder, filled with a raw hunger that sent shockwaves through me.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jason groaned, his hands gripping my hips as he thrust harder, deeper, pushing me toward the edge. “I could do this all fucking night.”

His moans, louder and more desperate than mine, filled the room. It was like music to my ears, the sound of him losing control, the sound of him so close to the edge. His breaths were ragged, his chest rising and falling with every powerful thrust.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect for me,” he growled, his voice hoarse with need. His pace was relentless, and I couldn’t help but meet him thrust for thrust, desperate for more.

His moans grew louder with every thrust, every movement, as though he couldn’t contain his pleasure any longer. His hands moved to my chest, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, making me gasp in surprise and pleasure. He leaned down to kiss me, his lips bruising against mine as he thrust deeper, harder, pushing me further into the bed.

“Come for me,” he breathed against my ear, his voice low and commanding. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

The pressure inside me was unbearable now, and with a breathless cry, I came apart. My body shook as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me, and I screamed his name, louder than I ever thought I could.

But Jason’s moan was louder still, a primal growl that vibrated through my body as he came with me. His thrusts became frantic, harder, until he buried himself deep inside me, the release so intense it left him breathless.

We stayed like that, tangled together, for a long moment, both of us gasping for breath, our bodies still trembling with the aftershocks.

Jason’s voice was soft now, his lips brushing against my ear as he pulled me closer, his body still against mine. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice filled with satisfaction. “And I’m never letting you go.”

I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face as I snuggled closer to him, feeling the heat of his body next to mine. In that moment, I knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Neither of us was.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #jameshetfield #metallica smut #jason newsted x reader #jason newsted smut #jason newsted x you #jason newsted #jason newsted one shot #nausicaamusiclover20 #reqs open

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months ago

Text

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

__________________________________________

-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 · 5 days ago

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haiii I like your works sm, hope you'll like my request!!

James in his BL cowboy era works on ranch of reader's dad(reader is much younger than James). Reader and him fell in love with each other, while her dad is not good with it and prevents Reader from interacting with James. One night, James steals the reader away from home and they spend a passionate but tender first night together in his little ranch house, where Het takes her virginity and then tenderly takes care of her after making love... ahh I can't stop thinking about how hot cowboy James is😞

love ya!!

God, I love cowboy James, I hope you like it❤ Love ya too!

Warnings: Soft smut, age gap, loss of virginity

The cowboy and the rose

The summer air was thick with the scent of hay and wildflowers, a lazy breeze carrying the hum of cicadas across the ranch. I sat on the porch swing, the wooden slats creaking beneath me, as I watched James work in the fading light. There was something magnetic about the way he moved, his sun-kissed skin glistening under the weight of hard labor. My father had hired him months ago, but from the moment James set foot on our land, I knew he was trouble—the kind of trouble that pulled at me in ways I couldn’t explain.

James wasn’t like the other ranch hands. There was an air about him, a quiet confidence, the hint of a smirk beneath his dusty cowboy hat. He’d catch my eye now and then, his gaze lingering just long enough to make my heart race. It wasn’t long before my father noticed the way I looked at him—and the way James looked at me.

“You stay away from that man, Y/N,” my father had warned one evening, his voice firm as we sat around the dinner table. “He’s not good for you. Too old, too wild. He’ll bring nothing but heartache.”

I didn’t argue. There was no point when my father had made up his mind, but his words only fueled the fire inside me. James wasn’t reckless; he was kind. He’d stop to help mend a fence or comfort a scared horse, his touch gentle despite the strength in his hands. And when he looked at me, I felt seen—not as the rancher’s daughter, but as a woman.

We’d stolen moments where we could. A whispered conversation in the barn, our hands brushing as we worked side by side. Once, late at night, I’d snuck out to meet him by the river. He’d pulled me close under the stars, his arms wrapped around me as if to shield me from the world.

But my father’s disapproval loomed over us like a storm cloud. He’d started keeping a closer eye on me, his sharp gaze following me wherever I went.

That night, everything changed.

I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of my father’s rules pressing down on me. Then I heard it—the soft tap of pebbles against my window. My heart leapt as I peered outside. There he was, James, standing in the moonlight, his truck parked at the edge of the property.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely carrying through the night. “Come with me.”

I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my boots and slipped out the window, my heart pounding as I crept across the yard. When I reached him, he took my hand, his grip firm but warm.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement.

He looked at me, his dark eyes steady. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

We drove to his small ranch house on the edge of town, the truck rumbling through the quiet night. When we arrived, he helped me out of the cab, his hand lingering on my waist. The house was modest, but it felt like a sanctuary. Inside, the scent of leather and cedar enveloped me, the warm glow of lamplight casting shadows on the walls.

James turned to me, his expression serious. “I know this is a lot,” he said, his voice soft. “If you want to go back, I’ll take you. But if you stay… I need you to know how much you mean to me.”

My breath caught in my throat as I stepped closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips met mine, the kiss slow and tender, as if he was savoring every moment. He led me to his bedroom, the simplicity of the space reflecting the man himself. There, in the quiet of the night, we came together for the first time.

James kissed me deeply, his hands cupping my face as he murmured against my lips, “You’re so beautiful.” The words sent a warmth through me, making my skin tingle. His touch moved down my arms, his fingers grazing my skin like a whisper, until they settled on my waist, holding me close.

He unbuttoned my blouse with care, his eyes meeting mine with each undone button. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, his voice steady but filled with need. I shook my head, my breath catching as I helped him shrug off his shirt. His chest was firm and warm, and I let my hands explore the planes of his skin, marveling at how strong yet gentle he was.

When I shivered, he wrapped his arms around me, his lips brushing along my temple. “Cold?” he asked.

“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Just nervous. This is my first time.”

James’s expression softened, his hand coming up to gently cup my cheek. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I’ll take care of you, I promise. We’ll go slow, okay?”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I nodded, trusting him completely. “Okay.”

He laid me down on the bed, his movements deliberate and tender. His lips followed the curve of my neck, tracing a line to my collarbone as his hands mapped every inch of my body. I gasped when his touch became more insistent, his kisses trailing lower.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low but gentle.

“Yes,” I breathed, my hands tangling in his hair. “Please.”

His touch became more purposeful, his hands and lips exploring me with a reverence that made me feel cherished. As he finally joined us together, he moved with a slowness that showed his care for me, pausing just enough to let me adjust, whispering softly, ""Are you okay, sweetheart?" he whispered, moving with a slowness that showed his care for me.

He paused to let me adjust, brushing a soft kiss against my lips, his hand gently cradling my face. "How do you feel?" he asked, his voice a soothing murmur that wrapped around me like a warm embrace.

I hesitated, my words catching in my throat as I tried to make sense of the unfamiliar sensations. "I don’t know," I admitted softly. "It’s strange… but it feels right, being with you."

“I’ll go slow,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my nerves. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

I nodded, my breath trembling as he began to ease into me. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of discomfort and an unfamiliar fullness. Sensing my tension, he stilled, his forehead pressing gently against mine.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered, his thumb stroking my cheek. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

I exhaled shakily, relaxing under his tender encouragement. Slowly, he moved again, giving me a moment to adjust to every inch. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a low rumble of concern and love.

“Yes,” I whispered, my hands gripping his shoulders for support. “Don’t stop.”

He pressed another kiss to my lips, his movements careful and unhurried. As the discomfort faded, a new kind of warmth spread through me, and I found myself meeting his rhythm. His whispered words of praise and love grounded me, each one like a lifeline.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “So perfect.”

I clung to him, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. “I’m yours, James,” I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks.

He moved with a mixture of passion and tenderness, as if every touch and motion were a declaration of his feelings. The room was filled with soft gasps and murmured words, the world beyond the walls fading away entirely.

When we reached our peak together, I felt as though the stars themselves had fallen into the room. James collapsed beside me, pulling me into his arms, our breaths mingling as we lay entangled.

Afterward, he cleaned me with a warm towel, his movements unhurried and soothing. “Does that feel alright?” he asked, his voice still husky but tender.

“It’s perfect,” I replied, watching the way his brow furrowed with concentration as he cared for me.

He climbed back into bed, wrapping the blanket around us and holding me close. “Come here,” he murmured, kissing my forehead. “I’ve got you.”

I rested my head against his chest, his heartbeat a steady reminder of everything we’d just shared. “I love you, James,” I said softly, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

He tipped my chin up, his lips brushing mine in a featherlight kiss. “I love you too, Y/N. More than anything.”

We lay there, the weight of the night sinking into us, but instead of fear, I felt a profound sense of belonging. For the first time, I understood what it meant to be truly seen, truly loved, and I knew I’d never let it go.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #metallica fluff #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield one shot #james hetfield fluff #metallica x you #metallica smut #soft smut #james hetfield smut #reqs open #nausicaamusiclover20

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months 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 · 2 months 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!

----

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 · 1 month ago

Text

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 · 1 month ago

Text

Warnings: Mature Themes,Explicit Content Sexual Content,Strong Language,Intense Sexual Content, Emotional Intensity,Sensitive Topics (About marriage)

P.S I wanted to tell you this story is a work of fiction and is not intended to represent any real-life events or individuals. It is solely for entertainment purposes.

Craving the Forbidden

The rhythmic hum of the vacuum cleaner filled the mansion, steady and soothing as I moved through the sprawling halls. This place was a fortress of luxury—high ceilings, dark wood, and towering windows that framed views of an endless horizon. It felt like a castle, but it was so quiet it might as well have been a mausoleum.

I’d been working here for two years, long enough to know every creak of the floorboards, every shadow that shifted with the setting sun. Long enough to know the man who lived here, too.

James Hetfield.

He wasn’t just my employer; he was a rock god. Frontman of Metallica, a legend whose name carried more weight than I could fathom. And yet, he was also something else. Something infinitely more complicated.

James Hetfield wasn’t supposed to be kind. Or thoughtful. Or so... human. But he was. And that’s what made working here harder than it should’ve been.

I dusted the shelves in the library, my hands steady even though my thoughts weren’t. I had no right to think about him the way I did. He was married. Famous. Completely out of reach.

And yet, I couldn’t help the way my chest tightened every time I saw him.

The front door clicked open, the sound reverberating through the empty halls. My breath caught. I wasn’t expecting him.

“Y/n?” His deep, gravelly voice echoed down the hall.

I straightened, smoothing my apron before stepping out into the foyer. He stood there, guitar case slung over one shoulder, sunglasses pushed up into his tousled hair. His presence filled the room like a storm rolling in—effortless, magnetic, dangerous.

“James,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I didn’t think you’d be home today.”

“Change of plans,” he said, setting the guitar down by the door. His lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile. “Thought I’d work from home for a bit.”

I nodded, clutching my cleaning supplies tightly. “I’ll stay out of your way.”

“You never do.” The words were soft, but they carried an undercurrent that made my pulse quicken.

I ducked my head and hurried back to the kitchen, my cheeks burning. The hours crawled by as I moved through the house, each room feeling smaller and more suffocating with him here. His presence was impossible to ignore—the faint sound of his guitar drifting from the living room, the occasional creak of floorboards as he moved upstairs.

By the time I reached his office, my nerves were frayed. This was the one room I avoided whenever I could. It felt too personal. The walls were lined with gold records, guitars propped in every corner, and framed photos that told the story of his life. Photos of his band, his kids, his wife.

Those pictures always made my chest ache.

I pushed open the door, steeling myself as I set down the bucket of supplies. My hands trembled slightly as I dusted the bookshelves, each movement careful and deliberate.

“You don’t have to do that right now.”

His voice startled me, and I turned sharply to see him standing in the doorway. His arms were crossed, but his expression was anything but casual.

“Sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. His eyes locked on mine, filled with something raw, something that made it impossible to breathe.

“I was just finishing up,” I said quickly, moving to grab my supplies. “I’ll leave—” “Y/n,” he interrupted, his voice softer now. “Stay. Please.”I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. “Why?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his confidence faltering. “Because I need to tell you something.”

The room seemed to shrink around us, the air thick and charged. I leaned against the desk, gripping the edge for support. “What is it?”

James sighed, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of his words was too much to carry. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t want you.”

My breath hitched, my grip tightening on the desk. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“I know,” he said, his gaze steady despite the crack in his voice. “But it’s the truth. And I think you feel it too.”

Tears burned in my eyes as I shook my head. “James, you’re married. This isn’t right.”

His jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “My marriage has been broken for years, Y/n. We’re just holding on for the kids, for the image, for everything except love.”

“That doesn’t make this okay,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.

“I know it doesn’t,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you. How I’ve felt for a long time.”

The words hit me like a tidal wave, breaking down every defense I’d built over the past two years. I stared at him, tears slipping down my cheeks. “I don’t know how to stop feeling this way,” I admitted, my voice trembling.

James closed the distance between us, his hand brushing against mine. The touch was soft, tentative, but it sent a shiver down my spine. “Then don’t,” he whispered.

I looked up at him, my resolve crumbling as his fingers gently traced the back of my hand. Before I could think, before I could stop myself, I leaned into him. His arms wrapped around me, strong and steady, pulling me against his chest.

The space between us disappeared entirely, his body pressing against mine as we sank deeper into the couch. His hands, steady and deliberate, slid over my waist and up my back, drawing me closer. Each touch sent a shiver racing through me, my skin coming alive beneath his fingertips.

His lips never left mine for long, returning again and again with an urgency that grew with every passing second. When he pulled back to catch his breath, his forehead rested against mine, his lips brushing lightly over my cheek, my jaw.

“Y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick and low, a plea more than a word.

I tilted my head, granting him the space to let his lips trail down the line of my neck. The heat of his breath, the faint scrape of his stubble, made my heart race wildly. My hands clung to him, finding the solid strength of his shoulders, the warmth of his chest beneath his shirt.

He kissed me again, this time deeper, with an intensity that left no room for hesitation. His hand slid up my side, skimming over my ribs before settling at the small of my back, anchoring me to him as his lips moved against mine. Every part of me burned, the room around us disappearing into the haze of shared heat and need.

The soft sound of my name on his lips made my chest tighten. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as if that could make the moment last forever. His touch became more insistent, his hands exploring, his lips speaking a language I understood in the way they pressed, tasted, lingered.

The space between us vanished entirely as he closed the distance, his body pressing me back against the solid edge of the desk. His hands, rough and warm, skimmed my waist before gripping it firmly, pulling me flush against him. His lips claimed mine with a hunger I hadn’t felt before—raw and all-consuming.

When he pulled back, his breathing was ragged, his forehead resting against mine. His fingers traced my jaw, his lips brushing over the shell of my ear as he whispered, “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to rip these clothes off of you... to see you, all of you naked”

The words sent a shiver through me, and before I could respond, he took my hand, pulling me toward the bookshelf. My back hit the sturdy wooden frame, the books rattling softly as his body caged mine. His hands moved with purpose now, sliding down my arms before settling on the buttons of my blouse.

His eyes locked on mine as he began to undo them one by one, his breath warm against my cheek. “Every time I see you in this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “I have to fight myself not to do this.”

I couldn’t speak, my voice caught in my throat as his hands moved lower, pushing the fabric off my shoulders. His fingers brushed my bare skin, leaving trails of heat in their wake. My heart pounded, the air between us thick and electric.

“You’re more beautiful than I ever let myself imagine,” he said, his voice soft but strained, his gaze taking me in like I was a masterpiece he’d waited years to touch.

His hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer as his lips found mine again, fiercer this time. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as his lips left mine to trail along my neck, down to my collarbone. Each kiss sent a spark racing through me, leaving me breathless and clinging to him.

“Tell me you want this,” he whispered, his voice raw against my skin. “Tell me I’m not the only one who’s been losing sleep over this.”

“You’re not,” I admitted, my voice trembling but steady with truth. “I’ve wanted this, James. I’ve wanted you.”

His lips found mine again, hungrier now, as his hands roamed over my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. The warmth of him seeped into me, his touch igniting something deep and uncontrollable. He pushed the blouse from my shoulders completely, the fabric fluttering to the floor without a second thought.

His hands slid down to my waist, his fingers teasing the hem of my skirt. “Every time I see you in this,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the curve of my neck, “it drives me insane.”

I gasped as he lifted me slightly, turning us so I was pressed back against the bookshelf. The cool wood against my skin was a stark contrast to the heat of his hands, which worked to slide my skirt down my hips, his movements slow and deliberate. His lips followed the path of his hands, kissing the newly exposed skin with a reverence that made my knees weak.

He leaned back, his eyes dark and filled with something primal as he took me in. “Perfect,” he whispered, almost to himself.

I reached for him then, my hands trembling but eager as I tugged at his shirt. He didn’t resist, letting me pull it over his head. My fingers traced the lines of his chest, the muscles beneath taut and warm under my touch. He watched me, his breathing uneven, as if my touch alone unraveled him.

When he leaned in again, his hands found the clasp of my bra, pausing just long enough for his gaze to meet mine. “Okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, unable to speak.

James took a deep breath, his eyes dark and filled with a mix of desire and reverence as he pulled back slightly. His hands moved to the waistband of his jeans, the motion deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment. Slowly, he undid the button and the zipper, his gaze never leaving mine.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, as if he was trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory.

He slipped his jeans down, revealing the taut muscles of his legs, his body every bit as imposing as it was graceful. I watched him, the heat between us growing stronger, more palpable with each passing second. He stood before me, bare-chested, seeming like a Greek god, looking with a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes.

I couldn’t tear my gaze away. He was beautiful in a way I never could have imagined, and now that the layers between us were slowly falling away, it felt like everything was shifting, like we were moving toward something neither of us could stop.

He stepped closer, his hands running over his own chest, and I reached out, my fingers tracing the lines of his abs, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down my spine. Then I moved closer to his boxer, lowering it a bit to make his cock slliping out.

“I want to make you feel good,” I whispered, my voice soft, but full of intent. I meant it, more than anything else. I took his cock erected and started stroking it gently, yet quick.

His reaction was immediate. A low moan escaped his lips, the sound soft but filled with desire. I felt a surge of satisfaction at the sound, knowing that I was the one making him feel this way. His body tensed beneath my touch, every muscle drawn tight with need.

The sound of his moan—deep and unrestrained—only made me more determined to keep going, to show him just how much I wanted to give. I moved slowly, my fingers working with precision, matching the rhythm of his breathing. I could feel him reacting to each subtle movement, his body leaning into me as if urging me on.

His hands moved to my hips, pulling me closer as he kissed me, his lips urgent, but still gentle. I could taste the desperation in his kiss, the unspoken longing he didn’t have to say aloud. But his moan told me everything I needed to know. It made my chest tighten, a flutter of heat spreading through me at how badly he wanted this, wanted me.

With every stroke, I could feel him getting closer, his body trembling beneath my touch. He leaned into me, pressing his forehead against mine, his hands gripping my hips as if trying to steady himself. His breathing grew more shallow, the moans escaping him louder, more desperate now.

“You feel so good,” he breathed against my lips, his voice rough with need. “So good, Y/n.” His breath was quick and uneven, each word heavier than the last, his eyes dark with desire.

I could feel the way my own body responded to him, the fluttering in my stomach, the warmth spreading between my legs. I wanted to keep making him feel this way—wanted to see him undone by my touch. The moan that escaped his lips only encouraged me to continue, the sound echoing in my mind, and I matched the rhythm he set with my own, feeling a heat surge through me with every movement.

There was only this moment, only the connection between us—deep, raw, and undeniable. I could feel his heartbeat under my fingertips, steady and frantic all at once. The way he moaned, his breath hitching with every motion, made me feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time.

I leaned into him, kissing him deeply, taking my time with the kiss as I felt the tension in his body grow. Every touch, every breath between us felt like it was drawing us closer, making the world outside disappear.

I kept my pace slow, letting the anticipation build, knowing how much he needed this, how much he needed me to be there with him. I could feel him trembling beneath my touch, the way his body reacted to each gentle stroke.

And then, with a shuddering breath, he moaned again, his entire body jerking slightly as he let go, his chest heaving as he finally released, the tension in him breaking. He collapsed into me, his hands gripping my shoulders for support as he tried to steady his breathing.

“Y/n,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so close...”

I held him close, my hands gently stroking him as I let him come down from the wave of pleasure. His breath was ragged, and I kissed him softly, as he came.

My body was still humming from the intense connection we'd just shared, and James, standing so close to me, his chest rising and falling with each breath, was no different. His hands remained on my body, and his gaze—those deep, smoldering eyes—told me everything I needed to know.

His lips brushed lightly against mine once more, a kiss that was soft, lingering, and filled with unspoken emotion. His mouth parted against mine, just a breath away. “You were incredible,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, thick with desire. “You’re so much more than I imagined.”

I smiled at the sincerity in his voice, a warmth spreading through my chest. But even as he spoke, I could feel the tension building in the air again. He was looking at me like he couldn’t wait for the next moment to begin.

And I felt the same.

His fingers traced a slow path down my arm, igniting a trail of fire on my skin as he moved closer, his body aligning with mine. The gentle pressure of his chest against mine sent waves of sensation crashing through me, and I didn’t want to fight it anymore. His touch was electric, sparking something deeper, something raw between us that I couldn't quite name.

“I want to make you feel good,” he murmured, his voice deep and thick, laced with a promise. His lips brushed against my neck as he pulled me closer, his warmth enveloping me completely. The subtle movements of his hands were deliberate, slow—his fingertips grazing over my skin like he was savoring the moment, like he never wanted it to end.

I closed my eyes, giving in to the feeling of him, of his presence filling every space between us. His lips trailed soft, heated kisses along my neck, then dipped lower, his breath warm against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. My pulse raced, every inch of me aching with desire for more.

Without warning, he moved—his hands gripping my waist as he lifted me effortlessly. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, my hands slipping into his hair, feeling the weight of his body against mine as he turned us toward the bookshelf. The cool wood met my back with a soft thud, but I didn’t feel the coldness; I felt only the heat of him, pressing into me, his lips returning to mine in a deep, consuming kiss.

James held me against the bookshelf. His grip on me was firm, but there was a tenderness in the way he held me, as if he were afraid to break something delicate. But there was nothing delicate about this—nothing about the fire burning between us was fragile. It was raw, powerful, and undeniable.

I gasped softly as his lips found my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire. “You’ve made me feel amazing, but now I want to make you feel everything.”

His hands trailed down my body, gently pushing me back against the bookshelf as he moved in closer, his body fitting perfectly against mine. The pressure of him, the heat radiating from his skin—it was overwhelming, intoxicating.

You’re perfect,” he whispered, the words rough with emotion, as if he couldn’t believe this was really happening.

I closed my eyes, savoring the sound of his voice, the way he said my name like a prayer. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I responded instinctively, my body moving closer to his. I could feel his cock rubbing in my clit.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire. His lips found mine again, kissing me deeply, his tongue brushing against mine with a slow, intoxicating rhythm. I couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped from me, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

He deepened the kiss, sending shivers through my spine, and I felt a spark of heat ignite within me. His kiss was fire, melting away every ounce of hesitation, leaving only raw need and yearning. I couldn’t remember a time when I felt so alive, so completely attuned to another person.

He broke the kiss, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away. “Are you sure, Y/n?” His voice was a whisper, but there was a hardness to it now, a hint of desperation. “I don’t want to push you… but I need you.”

I swallowed, my heart racing in my chest. I wasn’t sure if I could find the words, but I didn’t need to. My body was speaking for me, my hands reaching down to pull him closer, feeling the heat of his skin, the hardness of his body against mine. Every inch of me wanted him, craved him, and I could no longer pretend otherwise.

“I’m sure,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of everything we were about to share. “I want this. I want you.”

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, and without another word, he lifted me effortlessly, his hands gripping my waist as he pressed me more firmly against the bookshelf. The sudden movement took me by surprise, but the moment our bodies aligned, a shudder of anticipation ran through me. I gasped as his lips found my ear, his breath sending a wave of heat through me.

“Now it’s my turn to make you feel good,” he whispered against my skin, his voice husky with desire. “Let me show you just how much I’ve wanted this, how much I wanted to fuck you all of you”

The intensity in his voice made me weak in the knees. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the wood of the bookshelf, and let him guide me, his hands firm but gentle as he positioned me just right. He was so close now that I could feel his breath on my neck, his lips trailing hot kisses down my skin.

I felt the pulse of heat between us grow, every second making my body ache with need. He pressed into me slowly, deeply, and I gasped at the sensation, the feeling of him filling me in a way that felt both overwhelming and perfect. I didn’t know if I could take it, but I didn’t care. Every inch of me was alive with need, and I moaned softly, feeling him shift his position just slightly to allow for a deeper connection.

“James…” I whispered, my voice barely a breath. The sound of his name on my lips felt like a confession, like a promise of everything that was happening between us.

His name escaped him in a low groan, his hands gripping my hips as he started to move against me, the rhythm slow and deliberate. He was teasing me, pushing me to the edge, and I couldn’t help the way my body reacted, how my breath hitched, how my nails dug into his shoulders.

“You feel so good, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure as he kissed the sensitive skin on my neck. “I can’t get enough of you.”

The pressure between us was building, and every move he made seemed to bring us closer to the edge. His hands moved to my chest, caressing my breasts with a tenderness that made me shiver. He pinched my nipple softly, and I moaned, arching into him, wanting more.

He kissed me again, his lips hungry, desperate. I felt the way he kissed me, not just with passion, but with a deep, aching need, as though he couldn’t get enough of me, couldn’t stop himself. I let myself melt into him, responding to each touch, each kiss, each movement as if my body had a mind of its own.

His rhythm grew more urgent, and with each thrust, I felt myself getting closer to the edge, the tension in my body so tight I thought I might snap. My moans grew louder, more desperate, matching the frantic pace he set, until finally, with one deep, almost desperate thrust, I felt myself breaking apart, my body trembling as I found release.

“J-James, I’m cumming” "I moaned softly, my body trembling from the intensity of his thrusters.

“Cum for me,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire, his hands holding me closer as the tension between us reached its peak. “Let me know how much you want this.”

His name spilled from my lips again, a breathless cry, and the sound of it seemed to push him over the edge. I felt him tense, his body shuddering against mine as he followed me, his deep groan echoing in my ear. We both froze for a moment, suspended in the aftermath, the air thick with our combined breaths.

We stayed like that, locked in each other's arms, unable to let go of the connection we had created. James pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me, his breath coming in soft pants against my ear. I could hear the steady beat of his heart, and I rested my head against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.

As we stood there, our bodies still entwined, the world outside the small office seemed to fade away. The only sounds were our ragged breathing, slowly starting to calm. My chest rose and fell against his, and I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips. The air between us was heavy, but now it felt different—more peaceful, more grounded.

James pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me like a protective cocoon. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, allowing the quiet to settle over us. We didn’t speak for a long time, and I didn’t mind. It felt good to just be in this moment, to be connected to him in a way I hadn’t ever expected.

Finally, James spoke, his voice low and thoughtful. “You okay?” he asked, his hand gently stroking my hair, as though making sure I was still with him, still here.

I nodded, lifting my head to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with a mix of desire and something softer, something I hadn’t expected to see. “Yeah… more than okay,” I whispered, smiling up at him, my heart still racing in the aftermath of everything that had just happened. But as the excitement ebbed away, a quiet realization began to settle in.

There was still so much we hadn’t said, so much unspoken. The weight of the situation was slowly sinking in. James was married. That fact hadn’t disappeared in the heat of the moment, and now that things were calm, I felt the tug of uncertainty.

I hesitated for a moment before speaking. “James…” My voice was soft, unsure. “What about your wife? What does this mean?”

He paused, his fingers gently brushing my cheek as he considered his words. His brow furrowed slightly, and for the first time since we’d come together, there was a moment of vulnerability in his expression. He took a breath, clearly weighing the truth before responding.

“Things aren’t... what they seem," he said slowly, his voice quieter than before. "It’s complicated, Y/n. I’m not... I’m not happy in my marriage. I haven’t been for a long time.” He swallowed hard, his eyes not leaving mine as if searching for some sign that I understood. “I never meant for this to happen with you, but I can’t deny what I feel. What we’ve shared... it feels real. More real than anything else right now.”

I felt the weight of his words, a mixture of relief and sadness swelling inside me. My heart ached for him, for the situation he found himself in. I wanted to ask more questions, to understand the full depth of what he was going through, but instead, I found myself in his arms, my face pressed against his chest once again, trying to hold onto the feeling of being close to him.

“So, what does this mean?” I asked, my voice a little shaky, but I needed to know. "What do we do now?"

He exhaled deeply, running his hand through his hair, looking away for a moment before meeting my gaze again. There was something intense in his eyes, something that told me this wasn’t just a fleeting moment for him.

“I don’t know what the future holds, Y/n,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “But I know that right now, I don’t want to let go of this. I don’t want to let go of you.” He looked down at me, his expression full of raw emotion. “If you wanted to stay… I wouldn’t stop you.”

The offer hung in the air between us, and I could feel the weight of it. It wasn’t just about the physical connection we’d shared—it was about something deeper, something more fragile.

“I’m not asking you to leave her,” I said quietly, my heart aching. “But what happens now? What do we do with what we’ve just… what we’ve just done?”

James gently lifted my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. His touch was tender, almost apologetic, as if he were afraid of the emotions he might be stirring. “I don’t want to complicate things for you, Y/n. But I can’t pretend that this doesn’t mean something to me.”

His words lingered in the space between us, and I could feel the shift—the weight of our shared desire, and the vulnerability that came with it. He wasn’t asking me for anything. He wasn’t rushing into anything. But the offer, the possibility, was there, hanging in the quiet.

“I think we need time,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. "We both do."

James nodded slowly, his lips brushing against my forehead in a soft kiss. “Yeah, time,” he echoed, his hand still holding me close. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. Not if you don’t want me to.”

I closed my eyes, letting the quiet settle between us, and for a moment, there was no pressure, no confusion—just the two of us, holding onto something fleeting, yet real.

“I don’t want you to go either,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but sincere.

And for a moment, we simply stood there, lost in the warmth of each other’s arms, our hearts beating as one, unsure of what tomorrow would bring, but certain of this—this connection, this moment, was something we both wanted to hold on to.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield one shot #metallica smut #james hetfield x you #james hetfield imagine #james hetfield smut #metalica x you #nausicaamusiclover20

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 months 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 · 23 days ago

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Back to December

It was the first snow of December when I found it. The soft snowflakes blanketing the world outside made everything feel still, and as I stepped onto the porch, I spotted it lying on the rug. At first, I thought it was just another piece of junk mail or a flyer that had been blown by the wind. But as I knelt down and picked it up, the weight of the paper made my heart skip a beat.

It was a letter—an envelope with no return address, just my name, written in handwriting I hadn’t seen in years.

James.

I couldn’t breathe for a moment, the snow suddenly feeling colder around me. I hadn’t heard from him in so long. After I left, I never expected to hear from him again. Not like this.

I opened the letter with shaking hands, the paper crinkling slightly.

Y/N,

I’ve written this letter a hundred times in my head, but none of them felt right. None of them captured the way I feel now. So here’s the truth:

I’ve spent years asking myself why you left, trying to understand what I did wrong. Maybe I never gave you enough room to breathe, or maybe I asked too much of you. I don’t know. I never wanted to make you feel trapped, but somewhere along the way, I must have.

I remember the night you left so clearly. You said you needed space, that you couldn’t be the person I needed. You kissed me like it was the last time, and I didn’t know it was. You didn’t look back.

I spent years trying to move on, but I never could. It’s been December every year, and every December, I wonder if I made the right decision, if we could have made it work, if you still think about me the way I think about you.

I don’t expect you to forgive me, and I’m not asking for another chance. I just needed you to know how much I regret not holding on.

I hope you’re happy. I just wanted you to know that I’ve never stopped loving you.

James.

I stood frozen on the porch, the letter trembling in my hands. I thought about the years since I left, the quiet days that were only loud with regret. I had convinced myself it was better this way—that he deserved someone better, someone who could give him everything I couldn’t.

But reading these words, seeing his pain, I realized how wrong I had been.

I closed my eyes, pressing the letter to my chest. The ache that had settled there years ago was still there, a reminder of everything I’d lost. The truth was, I never stopped loving him. I never stopped thinking about him.

Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and keys, stepping out into the cold, the letter still clutched tightly in my hand. The quiet streets were almost too much to bear, but I knew where I needed to go.

I walked to the café we used to frequent—the one with the chipped windows and the smell of cinnamon coffee always in the air. The one where we would sit for hours, lost in conversation. I didn’t know if he’d be there. But part of me hoped he would be.

As I stepped inside, the warmth hit me, but I didn’t feel any comfort. I scanned the room quickly, my breath catching when I spotted him.

James.

He was sitting at our table by the window, just as I had imagined, as if nothing had changed. But it had. We both had.

I felt a flutter in my chest, my heart racing, unsure of what to do next. He hadn’t noticed me yet, and I wondered if it was a sign. Maybe I wasn’t meant to see him, to face him after all these years.

But then, as if on cue, his eyes met mine. He froze for a moment, blinking as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

I held my breath.

"Y/N…" His voice broke the silence, soft and uncertain. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I didn’t think I would either,” I whispered, my heart pounding.

He stood up slowly, taking a step toward me, his expression hesitant but hopeful. “Is everything okay?”

I nodded, but my voice caught in my throat. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I needed to say. But the words didn’t come.

“I—can we talk?” I asked quietly, my gaze dropping to the ground.

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

We stepped outside, the cold air biting at my skin as we stood on the sidewalk. The world felt quieter out here, just the two of us and the soft sound of snow falling around us. It felt like the right place to say everything I had been holding in for years.

I turned to face him, my breath coming out in small puffs in the cold. The air was sharp against my skin, but it didn’t matter. Everything felt raw, like my soul was exposed to the elements.

“James… I—I left because I thought you deserved better than me,” I whispered, my voice trembling, even though I tried to steady it. “I thought if I walked away, you could be happy. I thought maybe you’d find someone who could give you everything I couldn’t.”

His expression faltered, his brows furrowing in confusion as if he couldn’t understand. His eyes softened as he stepped closer, reaching for my hand. “Y/N…” he said softly, his voice full of hurt. “The only person who could’ve made me better… was you.”

I pulled my hand back, unable to keep the tears from brimming in my eyes. “I thought that I wasn’t enough for you. I saw the way you looked at other people—how easy it was for you to connect with them. I thought maybe I was holding you back from being truly happy, from being the person you could be with someone else. Someone who didn’t have all these… issues. Someone who didn’t question everything they did or what they could give you.”

James’ face tightened with something unreadable, but his hands stayed at his sides, like he was afraid to reach for me again. I couldn’t help but continue, my voice growing more fragile as I bared my heart, a part of me desperate to explain.

“You were always so perfect. You always knew how to make me laugh, how to calm me down when everything felt like it was falling apart. And I—” I stopped, swallowing hard. “I couldn’t give you that. I couldn’t be the person you needed, and I thought… if I left, you would be free to find that. You didn’t need someone like me weighing you down.”

A pause settled between us, the silence heavy with all the things left unsaid. He stared at me, his face unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes told a different story. They searched mine like they were looking for something I didn’t even know I’d lost.

“I never needed you to be perfect, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His words broke through the tension, and I felt them sink deep into me. “I never needed someone who had it all together. I just needed you. You were the one who made me feel alive, who understood me better than anyone else ever could. You were never a burden to me.”

I took a shaky breath, my chest tight with emotion, unable to look away from his eyes, unable to fight the pull between us. “But I thought I was… I thought my mistakes, my flaws, would just keep getting in the way. I thought you’d eventually realize you were better off without me. That I’d only drag you down with all the baggage I had. I thought… I thought maybe I was doing the right thing, by walking away.”

James gently shook his head. “The only thing you were doing was breaking your own heart.” He paused, his expression softening as he took another step closer, closing the distance between us. “And mine too.”

I couldn’t find the words to respond. I stood there, torn between regret and relief, feeling everything I had buried deep inside me now flooding to the surface. I looked up at him, my tears still falling, but I could see the sincerity in his eyes. The same love I had always seen. The love I had left behind.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” I whispered, my voice breaking as I finally let go of the weight I had carried for so long.

“You don’t have to fix anything,” he replied softly. “We just need to be honest. We need to heal, together. I never stopped loving you, Y/N. And I never will.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. My chest was tight with emotion, the weight of all these years settling on my shoulders. But at that moment, I realized that maybe the most important thing wasn’t about fixing everything. It was about giving ourselves the chance to be together again, to move forward, not as the people we once were, but as the people we were now. Different, but still connected.

I let out a shaky breath, tears continuing to fall, but this time, they weren’t just tears of regret. They were tears of release, of letting go of the fear that had kept me away for so long.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, James. I was wrong. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I hurt you. I hurt us both.”

His hands gently cupped my face, his thumb wiping away the tears that fell from my eyes. “You don’t need to apologize. We both made mistakes. But what matters now is that we’re here, together.”

He pulled me into his arms, and this time, I didn’t resist. I let myself fall into him, knowing that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment we would finally find our way back. He held me close, his warmth surrounding me, and I realized that this—this feeling—was home. It always had been.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine. “I always will.”

“I love you,” I said through a breath, closing my eyes as I let his presence wash over me, finally feeling the weight of all the years we’d lost slipping away.

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice steady and sure.

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