#lars ulrich smut

[miniaturekingchopshop]

omg this era of lars 😻😻

[nausicaamusiclover20]

First time-James Hetfield

Cockwarming-Dave Mustaine

Wax play-Kirk Hammett

Somnophilia-James Hetfield

Blindfold-James Hetfield

Knife Kink-Kirk Hammett

Aftercare-Kirk Hammett

Rough sex-Dave Mustaine

Sex Pollen-Lars Ulrich

Car Sex-Dave Mustaine

Daddy Kink-James Hetfield

Bondage Sex-Dave Mustaine

Bath Sex-Kirk Hammett

Stripping-James Hetfield

Lap dance-Dave Mustaine

[nuchester]

Lars Ulrich Core 🤗

(Creds to kialovesmetal on tiktok!)

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Using Safe Words - Metallica pt.1

A/n: Basically just scenario's where a safe word is used and how Metallica members would react. This is only James, Lars and Kirk, if you'd like to the bassists or other bands even let me know :3

Link to part 2

Warnings: Smut, angst, use of a safe word, rough sex, sex toys, if you think you won't be comfortable reading that that's fine protect yourself before reading content :3 Also, if there's anything you think I missed let me know!

James had you bent in half on the couch. He had had a rough day at the studio, everyone was just on his ass and in his face and it was driving him crazy, so when he got home you offered to help him destress. Only you hadn’t anticipated this...

Don’t get me wrong, James was always on the rougher side of things but this was pushing it. He’d been manhandling you and pulling more orgasms out of you than your body could take at this point. It didn’t matter how sensitive you were, how weak or overstimulated you were, James just didn’t stop and your begs and pleads only seemed to fuel his need for dominance.

His hips were slamming against your at an unholy as he held your knees to your chest. “Fuck, pretty little slut, barely keeping your eyes open?” Your eyes were rolling back, your brain was practically useless at this point and you were shaking uncontrollably underneath James. James slapped you across the face, hard. You cried out but he didn’t care and did it again. “Fucking look at me when I’m railing you.” He ordered.

“Ja-Jamie, Jamie, please!” You sobbed, tears streaming down your red face. “Can’t-can’t take it, please!”

“Whiny whore.” He groaned, slapping you again. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Pumpkin.” You sputtered, your voice was weak and he barely heard it. James laughed and stared down at your weak form.

“What was that? Gotta speak up, bitch.”

“Pum-pumpkin, please, pumpkin!” You sobbed, tossing and turning. James froze, any cold demeanour he had vanished in an instant.

“What was that?” He asked, his voice now basically a whisper. You didn’t respond and just continued sobbing. James slowly pulled out and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” He littered kisses all over your face, soft and gentle ones. He wiped the tears from your eyes and held you close. “I’m so, so sorry, love, how about I run you a nice warm bath, yeah? Then we can watch a movie or something, how does that sound?” You gave a small nod and he carried you to the bathroom.

He never let go of you while he got the bath ready, sprinkling in smelling salts, lighting a few candles and even adding in rose petals. Fake ones he was saving for a special occasion but he felt you needed them now more than anything.

“Do you want me to get leave?” He asked once he got you in the tub. You shook your head.

“Just-just hold me.” Your voice was still shaky as you mumbled. “Please.” James smiled and got in with you, pulling you close to his chest. He continued to whisper praises and apologise in your ear, pressing soft kisses all over your face and asking if you’re ok.

Lars was always a dick. He’d refuse to let you cum or make you cum so much you couldn’t remember your own name. Then there’d be times when he would only focus on his own pleasure and completely disregard whether you finished or not. Usually, this was just to annoy you, rile you up and what not, plus there’d always be days when he was just perfect for you, making sure everything was just right. He’d have his moments, for sure.

Today was nothing like anything he’s put you through. He’d just come back from a tour with Metallica and said he was all pent up. Of course you understood, you’d been feeling just the same, and so you ended up in the bedroom.

Your wrists and ankles were tied to the bedposts. Lars had two vibrators in either of your holes, with one perfectly pressed against your clit. Lars was pistoning himself in and out of your mouth, not caring if you could breathe or not. You were gagging, not necessarily because of him but just because you needed air, he didn’t care either way, he just enjoyed the noises coming from you like sweet music to his ears.

“Fuck, so good for me.” Lars moaned out, throwing his head back in pleasure. Your whole body was hot and tight, not in the usual way. The high speed vibrations, the stretch you never welcomed, Lars standing over you and being unable to even try to move through all of it just made everything hurt. Painful, is what it was.

You tried to choke something out but the words couldn’t form around Lars. “Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?” He asked with a grin, pulling out enough for you to talk.

“Please, just-” You didn’t get a chance to finish as Lars slammed himself right back past your lips. Again you gagged while he cackled above you. You pulled and thrashed against the restraints but every move just made the feelings down below so much worse.

Lars pulled out again, still snickering. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you wanna try again?” He asked, you knew he’d just do it again so you blurted out the only thing you thought could get him to stop.

“Pump-!” Again he cut you off. This time his laughter was short-lived when he processed what you were trying to say.

“Wait, what?” He asked, moving completely off of you. He held your face as he always did, caressing your cheek.

“Pumpkin, please, pumpkin!” You sobbed, writhing at the pain coursing through you. Lars immediately panicked, rushing to take everything off and out of your. As soon as you were able to, you pushed yourself to the corner of the bed, curling in on yourself as you cried, trying to forget what you just experienced.

Lars came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was that bad.” His voice was soft and a little shaky. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why-why would you-would you do that to me?” You asked through quiet sobs. He shook his head, nuzzling against you.

“I didn’t-I don’t-I just-” He started and stopped his sentences before just giving up. “I’m so, so sorry, love.” He held you a little longer before getting up and walking out of the room. He returned a few minutes later with a cloth and started wiping you down. The cloth was coarse and rough against you. You snatched it out of his hand and started cleaning yourself off in a more delicate fashion. “I’m sorry, can I just-” He reached for it again but you turned away from him. He gave a small nod and went to the closet.

You watched him dig through the clothes, tears making your vision a little blurry and you couldn’t stop sniffling. Lars came back to you, standing beside the bed and holding out clothes for you to take. One of his band shirts and a pair of his sweats. You looked between him and the clothes in his hands for a moment before taking them and slowly getting them on. “My body hurts.” You muttered, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry.” He said again. “I can set up a movie for us? A bubble bath? Whatever you want.” You thought about it for a moment before giving a small nod.

“A movie sounds nice.” Lars smiled at you and rushed off to set up a movie for the two of you in the living room.

A few weeks ago Kirk had brought up the idea of having a threesome to which you immediately turned down, that was not up your alley at all. Kirk dropped it when he saw how much you disliked the idea and for a while you thought that was the end of it.

Kirk brought you on tour with him, it was just for a week for his birthday and you intended to spend as much time with him as you could during his special day. The two of you finally had some alone time in your hotel room and were watching a movie, he kept touching up your leg and teasing you a bit, so you decided to indulge and have some fun.

You were straddling his lap, your tongues exploring each other’s mouth as you interchanged moans and groans. Kirk’s hands were roaming your body, groping your ass. He’d have his hands on your hips and pull you down while grinding the tent in his pants against you, drawing more sounds out of the both of you.

Everything was fine until you heard a deep groan that didn’t sound anything like Kirk, plus it was coming from the other side of the room. You pulled away, Kirk went to kiss your neck, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin. You glanced over your shoulder and saw James in a chair not far away with his cock in his hand, slowly stroking it up and down.

Fear shot through you and you pushed yourself off of Kirk, looking between him and the lead singer. “What the fuck?!”

“What?” Kirk asked, looking genuinely concerned for you. “You said no threesome so I figured James could just watch.” He explained. You can hear it in his tone that he’s doubting the idea as he says it. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. With no verbal disagreement Kirk leaned over to you again and kissed you. You slapped him. He didn’t look confused or hurt, just a little sad that he made you uncomfortable.

“Fucking pumpkin! I told you when you brought it up the first time, why would this be ok?!” He didn’t say anything and just looked down at the sheets. You scoffed and stormed out of the room and into the bathroom, taking a moment to breathe and just get yourself calmed down.

Several minutes pass and you hear a knock on the door. “Sweetheart?” Kirk called, his voice soft. “Can I, uh, can I come in?” You waited a moment before opening the door, holding yourself and pouting at him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told James that it was ok without talking about it with you.”

“You shouldn’t have even talked to him about it knowing that I wasn’t comfortable with stuff like that!” You argued. Kirk nodded and looked down again.

“Look, why don’t you take the bed and-and I’ll sleep in the tub.” He suggested, even taking a step around you to get to the small bath.

“Why would you do that?”

“I figured, you know, you wouldn’t want to share a bed with me after-” He paused and took a seat on the edge of the bath. “After that.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, it was really dumb, I promise it won’t happen again.” You nodded and sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I still want you to sleep in bed with me.” You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers together. “Sleep isn’t the same when I know I can’t steal your blankets.” You smiled up at him.

“I think I’d prefer the tub.” He chuckled. Kirk pulled you closer and kissed your forehead.

[artemisrogers]

80's James - no daddy shit or BDSM type stuff but you'd probably have plenty of hickeys and cuddles cause he's a shy dorky guy pretty gentle and more affirmation than physical love language. Honestly would use something like cinnamon for his safe word.

Black album james definitely rough and dominant. Loves to remind you that you're his bitch. Does do after care but it be more of like showers or gentle foreplay. Safe word is blackened. Since he'd have that goddamn alpha wolf energy he'd definitely be the type who has a panty vibrator you'd always wear to remind you he's boss. Physical love language affirmation went out the damn window

Load/reload - Daddy energy big time. I feel like there's a heavy kink for strength as he's kinda cocky and arrogant during this. Depending on his mood he can be a soft Dom or the type that makes you not walk for a couple of days. Safeword Harley Davidson. Uses both physical and affirmation love language and loves quality time. After care is a must like he'll make you feel like you're royalty. Might wanna watch out for how he responds if he's not sober or not that can affect the mood for the time.

Woodstock era - honestly definitely a gentle man this period. Still cocky but not as bad, kinda has control over how he is around you. He loves to take care of you in whatever way he can. Does have his moments of using you like a sexdoll but not as often. More physical and quality time than affirmation. Aftercare is very gentle. safeword is misfits

Early 2000s before st Anger - He's very clingy and protective of you. Has a big jealousy phase that you can't talk to another man without getting a firm squeeze from him. Size kink is there but not as potent. Aftercare is gone cause he feels it would spoil you. Physical love language is heavy here. Does have a thing for public sex and having people watch you get claimed by him. Safeword is whiskey

St anger - this is kinda a sad era for me as I know he's battling addiction. Affirmation is Present as he doesn't really want to be around you a lot. He would rather you take care of him and help him with his withdrawal mood swings. His mommy kink would show with you here. If you catch him on a good day he's definitely going to be the type to make you orgasm to the point of exhaustion. Aftercare is not present. Safeword is anger

Hardwired era - ok right off the bat I see him have a goddamn breeding kink. I mean like he can see y'all with a family type of breeding and just want to get you pregnant. Aftercare is back as he's very gentle. Loves to give you praises and body worship. Daddy kink? Quality time physical and acts of service love languages are present. Safe word is hardwired.

Current era - dudes a daddy issue type with a soft caring side. Is very gentle with you and sometimes gets rough. Safeword is inamorata. Quality time and affirmation are heavy love languages. loves to give you little gifts to show he cares about you. Loves cuddling kissing and justing being with you. Will eat you out like a starved man and loves a good blowjob.

[boundbyeclipse]

metallica and their main kinks

ʟᴀʀꜱ

hair pulling (g and r). lars is a freak who loves to have you at his mercy, pulling on your hair when he pounds you from the back on the leather sofa. he loves the way he can control you when you give him head too, your hair in between his fingers as he tugs on it quite strongly. but he also loves it when you ride him and have his hair in your fist, pulling and digging your nails into his scalp.

ᴋɪʀᴋ

oral (giving). we all know that this man just loves to eat a girl out. loves tasting you, teasing you and smirks against your folds if you cry out his name. looks up through his eyelashes from time to time to watch your face, his eyes dark and lustful. he also really enjoys edging you just to hear you beg for permission to cum. will be done on his own terms, not when you tell him to.

ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ

choking (giving). with those large hands of his covered in tattoos, he knows the power he has over you. can jokingly wrap a hand around your neck, but he loves it and it drives him insane how you get so vulnerable so quickly. absolutely loses his mind if you’re under him, head thrown over the edge of the bed, with his fingers wrapped around your neck to choke you.

ʀᴏʙ

fingering. he knows what he’s doing, let me just say this. rob knows how good it feels for you when he uses his thick fingers to please you, curling them up and hitting the spot every single time. once he’s done with you, he will suck on his fingers and taste your juices that are dripping down his hand. as a bonus, for more pleasure, rob will use his palm to press on your clit.

ᴊᴀꜱᴏɴ

manhandling. aware of his strength, jason uses it to his advantage. don’t worry, because even if you’re chubby, he’ll make sure to throw you on the bed and use his muscles to pin you down so you quit squirming. quite aggressive, but to an extent. won’t hurt you, unless you enjoy pain.

ᴄʟɪꜰꜰ

hickeys (g and r). your neck, chest, thighs, whatever it is - he will kiss and suck on to mark what’s his (a hint of possessiveness). loves the way your skin gets covered in goosebumps once his teeth come in contact with your skin. but he also enjoys receiving love bites from you. so it’s like an indicator that the both of you belong to each other only.

[mustainesgrrl]

best buddies :33 .

[clem900]

Mmmhgg

[mxtal-up-ur-ass]

THE THINGY ‼️‼️‼️

I’m doing photodumps of random rockstars/idols every day for idk how long :3

DAY THREE: Lars Ulrich from Metallica 🦐

Idk if you could tell, but I might like ‘96-‘00 Lar :] i want this twink OBLITERATED.

[eenniess]

he definitely growls when it hurts.

[sourbites]

Bruise

"Stop messing with it," Lars smacked your hand away, giving you a glare out of the corner of his eye. Your brows furrowed defensively.

The atmosphere in the recording studio is wirily tense. It's late at night, quiet, and so overwhelmingly empty. There's so much tension weighing down on your temples. Your jaw clenches, a tightness of agitation against your teeth. Stubbornly, you keep your hand fixed to the mixer.

"Is that how you ask?" You sneer, shoving his hand away with your own.

Lars turned to you, "Wasn't asking." He gives your hand another shove with the side of his palm.

This back-and-forth has been going on for months now. Since you came onto the producing team, Lars has fought you (literally and figuratively) every step of the way. It's infuriating. Tonight taps a gun to your skull and demands you be everything you're not.

"How about this," You clear your throat, hoping that sense of clarity will go to your scrambled, over-cooked brain. "You let me do my job?"

"I would if you could do it right," Lars immediately huffs out, his pink lips forming a little frown. He's not sad, though. Just smug. So stupidly smug.

This nasty bitterness in your stomach isn't from sleep deprivation or stress. "I guess we both need to work on stuff. My producing, your drumming." You say, bitingly. You know you're being snarky. And justifiably so— Lars deserves to be knocked down a peg or two.

"You don't appreciate good sound. That's obvious by the mess you've turned this song into."

You physically turn in your seat to actually, properly stare holes through Lars. Defensively, you wring your hands. "Ride The Lightning is the title track, dumbass, it needs to be memorable. And right now, there's nothing real about it to make it stick." You point out. Maybe you're being a bit blunt about it. But, like... are you wrong? No. No, you're not. Lars probably knows that. Deep down. That's probably why he's being so snooty with you right now. He's just looking for a fight. Like always.

"Real?" He echoes mockingly. Incredulously, Lars continues to run his stupid mouth. "You wouldn't know real sound if it hit you in that pretty face of yours. That's why you're stuck as a producer instead of actually making the song. Stop trying to commercialise what we stand for. Just do your job."

"Yeah? Well, I fucking quit."

You're not sure why you said it. As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to pluck them from the atmosphere and shred them up. It's just... it's late, and you're so, so tired. You're sick of fighting with Lars— not to be confused with intending to make peace with him. You loathe him with every drumstick flick. You loathe him with every breath you draw in your body. But constantly squabbling is certainly draining. Especially when it's so late at night, and all you truly want to do is wrap up in your cosy bed at home. Regardless of whether you meant it or not, you're too stubborn (and unwilling to be embarrassed) to take it back.

Hesitantly, like you're being controlled by someone else, you rise from your seat. You hear Lars scoff in disbelief behind you. The sight of the door gets closer and closer.

"What do you think you're doing?" Metal chair legs scrape against the floor. Lars catches you, barely quick enough to latch onto the side of your shirt.

"Leaving." You mutter, rendered monosyllabic from just how fast your heart writhes in your chest. Quitting shouldn't be this intimidating, should it? You'd find another job somewhere.

"You're such a fucking coward." He hisses, hooking his fingers into your shirt; the fabric pulled taut from the tension.

You twist around to face him, supercharged with irritation and frustration. And hatred. Mostly hatred. "You are the most difficult, stuck-up brat that I have ever worked with. You listen to nothing, absolutely nothing that I suggest to you. Why'd I stick around? For sleepless nights and insults? Fuck you, Lars. Fuck you!" You draw in a deep breath that goes smoothly down your chest. "You don't get to talk to me like that." You add, your voice a little more even, less manic than that episode of pure fury needling down your spine. Although, it still sounds like you're snarling.

Lars is still for a few moments. He blinks. Once, twice. A sick, sweet feeling of pride blooms within you. Finally, he listens. Finally, he shuts his mouth. Finally, he takes you seriously. In this strange purgatory of wordlessness, you get a good look at him. Your eyes search his. Are they blue or green? He looks tired. Maybe that's just because he's under the gory yellow lighting of the studio. Lars' mouth forms a line. He looks almost shell-shocked — is that because of you? What, never been yelled at before?

You give him a look.

"You want me to give you something real? Fine. Just don't fucking ruin it this time." He rasps, huffing, his tone biting.

At full tilt, Lars bee-lines into you, half dragging you into him and half scuffling his shoes on the floor to meet you. He rips you through the air towards him by your wrists. If your head wasn't spinning, maybe you'd realise that his hands tremble around you, his mouth watering. Your lips smack together, matching in a twistedly tender overlap of his top lip between yours, your bottom lip between his. Your hands fist into the collar of his dumb shirt, one of those ones where the neckline's gone in some botched DIY job. His nose bumps yours, teeth clashing in your mouth, and you find yourself allowing the kiss, letting your eyes close. Although he still makes you steam with rage.

You swallow awkwardly when the kiss is broken. You stare at him. "Well," You take in a breath, still feeling the warmth of him on your lips, "I suppose you think that makes up for your attitude?"

Lars scoffs again, glaring down his straight nose bridge at you. "Yeah, I wasn't apologising. Did nothing wrong." His hands slide up your wrists, up your arms, then slope down your sides, cupping you by the hips.

You don't like Lars. You truly don't. He's stubborn and blunt and argumentative and crass. You glare at him through your brows. But you'd be a fool to deny that he's pretty. "Yeah, you did," You laugh humourlessly. "You're always whining."

"Because you always ruin the songs." He snaps back, his hands tightening on your hips. He looks like a parent telling off a little kid: that condescending, patronising tone of voice. He's so fucking patronising. God, you want to strangle him.

You roll your eyes. Lars taps your cheek a few times, enough to feel it tingle on your skin. "Don't you give me that." His eyes burn like cigarettes, smoking with pure heat. His voice — his glare, hits something deep inside you, nothing but nerves. You've never seen him like this before. You chew your lower lip nervously. It excites you. It shouldn't excite you.

Stupefied, the only thing you manage is: "You're such a fucking dick." You meant it as some snarky zinger, but it comes out so breathless, so caramel, and so velvety.

God, you want him. You don't want to want him. It's been so long since someone's kissed you moon-struck, traced their palms down your sides, held you close...

You're staring. He's staring. Grinning, actually. You shift from foot to anxious foot. A quiet, dirty-minded smile softens up his pink lips. "Play nice, sweetheart." Lars hums, thumbing your hip through your shirt. Um.

Screw it. You shove both hands into Lars' shirt, twisting and tugging. He lands in a chair with a whoosh, gazing up at you wordlessly. Just a stupidly pleased grin and those perfect eyes. His hands squeeze you at the waist, yanking you into his lap, the air whuffed out of you.

"I can't fucking stand you," You mutter, yanking up his shirt. You hear the fabric crackle as it's stretched. You don't care. Lars dips his head down to your neck, kissing and mouthing at the delicate skin, unrelentless, your throat glosses with hickeys, spackled red and blooming blue. He bites, licks, sucks, mouthing at your pulse until it hurts, as if he's got you by the neck and he's desperate to bite until your pulse fizzes out.

"Shut the fuck up," Lars hisses into your neck, his fingers gauging into your sides, rattling your clothes around you as you're fighting to stay steady on his lap. God, can't he ever let anything be gentle? He forces his words out in choppy pieces, biting at your skin with his teeth, grazing over your thumping pulse, developing a taste for your flesh. You laugh dryly, winding your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck, yanking it back, tugging his insatiable, watering mouth from your throat.

"What did you say to me earlier? Play nice, sweetheart. I could easily walk away from this right now." You threaten, your eyes glowering like steel into his ocean of irises. Lars' hand tugs at your jeans again, his knuckles prodding into the softness of your belly as his hand is half-shoved down into the waistband. All while you're staring at each other with so much intensity, so much heat, that your skin feels like it's on backwards. You think you've been gulping down his hate potion by the gallon. He controls your very mind, twisting in the lust-fog daze of your brain, swirling and coaxing you to be just as hard-edged, just as snappy.

His hands slowly, almost cautiously, undo you. If I'm going down, you're coming with me. You lean in, transfixed, and graze your own teeth over his lip. His jaw. Earlobe. You taste the good and the bad in his mouth, and you want both. Insatiably, you want him. He sighs quietly into your hair, straining and wrestling your jeans down. The petal-soft skin of your inner thighs grate against the denim of his own jeans. Your panties are rearranged across your hips awkwardly, thanks to the way Lars fleeced your jeans from you so aggressively. You eye the growing bulge nestled almost uncomfortably snugly between his legs. Fucking pervert.

"How do you want it?" Lars asks as he undoes his belt, with only a little meddling from you. He leans back in his seat. On your throne (his lap), you're pulled into him of your own accord this time, following him like a magnet, scraping your hands along the sharp angles of his shoulders. You feel your slit gush in your panties. It was like leaning into the sun with him. Just heat everywhere, fire licking at your tenderised flesh, stripping you down to the bone. Rational thoughts rise like steam, abandoning you.

You're manoeuvred around for a few moments while Lars pushes down his jeans just to reveal that perfectly tented bulge. He cups your thighs in gulpfulls, shoves your legs apart, and presses you down, so your hips carve against his, groping you into grinding on his hard cock. The weight in your chest intensifies. You stab your hooked fingers into the enragingly perfect sharp cut of his shoulders, anchoring yourself as he rocks you against him. Now you know how the Titanic felt. You're going down, deep into his cold ocean.

All fucking month Lars has been chipping away at you. Days of quips and jabs and nudges. You're half surprised he didn't try putting gum in your hair or something. Childish little fuck. "Just like this is fine," You say, maybe with too much teeth, gritting out the words as if you don't want to give him the satisfaction of a somewhat peaceful conversation. This earns a deep, rumbling chuckle from within his chest.

"Fine," He echoes, rolling the word around in his mouth. "Not for long. You'll be singing my praises soon."

God, you wish you could take him down a peg or two. The vicious volcanic lava bubbling with hate in your gut quickly swaps with this aching emptiness, this vacuum of space that's yearning to be filled with heat again. Lars presses a tingling-with-heat palm flat to your belly, slowly sliding down, plucking the waistband of your panties as if it's a string, before releasing. He's smirking. You flinch, and those whittled-down shards of loathing come back tenfold. To break even, you shove a hand into his boxers and tug, his blushing cockhead springing out to smack against his happy trail.

The pair of you sit there, watching his cock stand proudly, leaky and snug between your pelvises. Your chest heaves. Lars peels your panties off to the side, tracing the pad of his thumb along your slicked, puffy slit. The breaths in your belly ripples. Your head is spinning. You fist Lars' dick, white-knuckled, handling him with all the bruising tenderness you need just to get it out of your system. His big eyes glisten over with lust. You squirm in your seat on his thighs. He scrapes you up closer, steering you by the hips. His palms smother into your hipbones until it hurts. Everything within you tightens at his touch, your breath hitching.

Lars' whispering is whiskey-warm as you swing your hips forward, pelvis-first, impaling yourself on his thick cock. It pushes a noise out of you. Eyelids drooping, lashes fluttering, you look almost drunk. Your arousal rolls down his shaft, slow and molasses-thick. You take a fistful of Lars' hair, ruining how he styled it in that seventies-esque look. Your sopping wet slit engulfs him, choking him down. Through his despising you, his hands settle on the small of your back and splay at the angled juncture where hip meets thigh, encouraging you — more eager to bottom out in your cunt more than anything else.

Your hole splits raw on him, a cry rippling through you. Embarrassed, you quickly hiss out: "Fuckin' hate you." Just for good measure. Just to remind him. Your flesh burns, sticky with sweat. The rippling squeeze of you around him is too close to paradise to be real. The gnawing in your head never ceases. As he entered you, he became your intense hunger. Lars rocks you across his lap at a vicious pace, in an animal tempo that makes you suspect he's bringing you to the slaughter. You almost want to close your legs as his tip bites into your cervix again and again and again, rolling and rippling as your cunt squelches in cries around him, slick bleeding out between you.

He sinks between your legs again and again, your tits bouncing in your shirt with each salacious stroke and hip bump upwards. Cries and insults die on your tongue, thoughts fuzzing away like angry bees trapped in their sticky beehives. "Spoilt," Lars hisses, the bluntness of his nails digging into the swell of your hips. He shoves his head into your neck and loses it. "Getting the best fuck of your life and you're still complaining." His breath scalds your clammy skin. You squirm. His hair rasps against the underside of your chin.

Lars leans back to fuck you in powerfully furious strokes, your skin hot and tingling with every slapping-sounding impact. He gathers you up in gently bulging biceps and veined forearms. You're folded into his chest, his breaths coming out in frantic puffs that warm you through your shirt. You absorb every pump helplessly, clinging to his shoulders and clawing at his skin until your nails leave red-hot roadmaps over every dip of muscle and bone.

"God," You cry hoarsely, curling your back into him and shuddering as the heavy, coiled knots in your guts settle and rattle against your slit. "Do you ever shut up?" You smoosh a flushed cheek into his soft hair, leaning on him for support. Your skin is beaded in sweat. You jolt, pelvis cramping as he finds your poor, swollen clit, and presses a burning fingertip into it. You feel the brush of his lips in a smirk against your throat. Your hair sticks to the back of your neck.

You want to tear him apart. He wants to split you open. He stuffs you with bullets. You burn with gunsmoke. Lars prods his knuckles into your arched back, keeping you there. He kisses your pulse surprisingly tenderly. Then, he remedies it with a bite. Does that hurt, too?

"Could ask you the same thing," Lars grunts, pawing and palming at your flesh until it aches. He is a fever you are learning to coexist with. He stains you with every touch. He drives his hips forward, feeling your slicked sex tear apart and split open on his hilt. He licks his lips, hungry — remembering how sweet your mouth tasted when it was too busy spilling out insults.

"Shut up shut up shut up." You hiss, squeezing your eyes shut. You can feel your cunt stretched around him, your flesh sizzling. The tissue in your body pulls taut. Lars plants sloppy, wet kisses down your neck. It's delicious agony. Who knew heaven was a place for sinners — because you're certain that the flashes of white behind your eyes are salvation. You brace yourself, shoes creased as you push the tip-toed soles into the floor. Lars smooshes a groan between his lips and your collarbone, soaking up every sharp, wild clamp of your pussy as he drags his cock deep and slows within your battered, tender walls.

Your orgasm comes jagged and spiked, pouring out and squelching between the both of you, skin slick with you. When does a war end? When the spoils are irrelevant? Lars, the evil fucker he is, fucks you through your orgasm. He steers you to sink onto him in long strokes. He rolls his hips and coos condescendingly, "That feel good?"

In frenzied sobs and manic pulses of your cunt, wet heat pools and lingers and feels so disgustingly good that you shudder, your spine still forced into that deep arch. Lars' knuckles have just enough room to fit against the shape of your vertebrae that lie beneath your singeing skin. The dull, happy throb of your orgasm hasn't died down yet, and Lars is spilling into you with vicious, vehement whacks of his hips that even manage to rip a shaky groan from his own throat.

Then, you're smooshed to his chest, your skin sticking together like wet sugar that caramelises in the grooves of your fingertips.

"Two stars," You mutter pridefully, breathless, as if that wasn't the best lay of your life. Lars gives a warning smack to the globe of your ass.

"Then I suppose we'll have to keep practising."

[valwrites-stuff]

An unexpected turn

After an argument with James, Lars incessantly complains until you tell him to shut up and you end up having sex with your best friend.

Lars Ulrich x Reader ☆ Smut, friends to lovers

Unpleasant energy fills the walls of the studio. With four pairs of eyes on him, Lars stands there, staring in disbelief as James' words echo in the room. "I did what?!" he repeats, incredulous. 

James, towering over him, crosses his arms and stares down at Lars. "You heard me, you ruined half of the show with how much you drank!" 

Lars clenches his fists, feeling the anger bubbling inside him. "I was playing just fine and now I'm the fucking idiot to blame? What about you then? Can't remember a second of you being sober last night, especially during the show, so who is the drunkard here?!" 

James lets out a bitter laugh, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "Well, I wasn't the one constantly missing notes and messing up the beat, was I?" 

The tension in the room is thick, the air heavy with their unresolved issues. As they continued to bicker, their voices filled with animosity, you can see the bond that held them together unraveling. 

Before the argument can escalate, James has enough. With a loud bang, he storms out of the studio, slamming the door behind him. Lars stands there, staring at the closed door, the silence ringing in his ears and anger flashing his eyes. 

Biting your lip, you watch the scene unravel before you, as Lars stands there, his face red with anger. The room falls quiet as everyone waits for what will happen next. Lars stares at the now closed door before turning around to his bandmates, who avoid eye contact and quietly put away their bass and guitar. 

You can feel the unease as Lars takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Kirk and Jason excuse themselves, leaving you alone with Lars in the now empty rehearsal room. You can see the frustration in his eyes. 

Taking a step closer to him, you reach out and gently place a hand on his arm. "Hey, you okay?" you ask softly, trying to be the one friend who's there for him when no one else is.

Lars looks down at your hand, his eyes softening as he gazes at you. "I'm sorry, I just...I can't believe this shit...," he says, his voice quiet. 

You smile reassuringly at him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "It's okay, we all have our moments." you suggest, leading him to sit down on the nearby couch. 

Lars and you sit together in the quiet room. As you offer him a cigarette, he takes it without a word, lighting it up with shaky hands. He takes a drag and exhales sharply, the smoke curling around his face. 

"James is a fucking asshole," Lars begins, his voice tinged with anger. "I was doing fine and he just comes to me the next day after the show and calls me an idiot in front of the whole band. Do you think I did bad last night? I wasn't even that drunk!" 

You listen patiently, knowing that Lars needs to let out his frustration. You've known him for years, and you know that he can be hot-headed when he feels wronged. You nod as he rants, letting him get it all out before you try to offer any advice but not wanting to interfere since James is your friend too and you know it always takes two to tango.

"No, it wasn't that bad but..." you start, but Lars cuts you off before you can finish. 

"But nothing!" he snaps, his eyes flashing with anger. "I'm sick of James thinking he's better than me. I work just as hard as he does, if not harder. And yet he treats me like I'm some kind of incompetent fool." 

As Lars continues to rant, his frustration starts to seep into the air around you. You can feel the tension building, and you know that you need to do something to diffuse the situation before it gets out of hand. 

"Lars... Lars..." you try to get his attention, but he seems to not even hear you as he keeps on with his outburst. 

"LARS! Shut the fuck up!" you finally snap, the words coming out harsher than you intended. Lars stops mid-sentence, his eyes wide with surprise. 

"All you do is whine and bicker without ever realizing that you are at fault! It's not always the others that do wrong, you are also in the wrong sometimes. And talking shit about your best friends is not helping either nor does it solve the problem " you continue, feeling a surge of frustration yourself as you get into his face and point your finger at his chest. 

Lars stares at you, his expression a mix of shock and defiance. But as he takes in your words, you see something shift in his eyes. 

Before you can react, Lars wraps his  fingers around your wrist forcefully, staring into your eyes with a mix of anger and lust for his best friend.

"Did you just tell me to shut up?" Your heart is pounding in your chest as you realize the effect your outburst has on Lars. You can see the conflict playing out in his expressive green eyes. "I did." Slowly, his gaze drops from your eyes to your lips, and a mischievous smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Without warning, he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips roughly against yours. The kiss is demanding, passionate, and fueled by the built-up tension between the both of you. You feel a jolt of desire course through your body as you respond instinctively, parting your lips and tangling your hands in his long brown hair.

Your tongues dance together, tasting and exploring, hungry for more. Lars' hands roam wildly over your body, squeezing your slender waist and cupping your ass, pulling you tightly against him. You can feel the forming bulge in his pants pressing insistently against you and it sends a rush of wetness to your pussy.

Breaking the kiss abruptly, Lars trails kisses along your jawline and down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin. "Fuck you," he whispers hoarsely, breath hot against your ear. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

You shiver at his words and the realization that this fantasy had been building up inside him for who knows how long. "Not as long as I've wanted this," you murmur back, "I used to dream about what it would be like to fuck my best friend."

A low growl escapes Lars' throat, and he lifts you effortlessly, cradling you on his lap. Kissing you hungrily you moan into his mouth as you feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your core through your clothes.

With eager hands, you begin tearing at each other's clothing, unable to get enough skin-to-skin contact. Your lean, shapely body was soon bare before him, your small, perky breasts touch starved. Lars takes one hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue while his hand squeezes and massages the other.

"Fuck Lars..." You arch your back, offering yourself to him, moaning as waves of pleasure washes over you. Your hands fumble with the button and zipper of his jeans, desperate to set free what you had fantasized about for so long. Finally, with a sharp tug, you release it from its confines.

Lars' cock stands tall with the head already gleaming with pre-cum. Taking it in your hand, you stroke it gently, marveling at the weight and warmth in your palm as Lars eyes follow your actions, the argument and anger long forgotten.

“Oh shit. So good.” Lars moans as you continue to stroke him.

You can feel the wetness between your legs increase as you watch Lars’ reaction. You move and drop to your knees, looking up at him with sultry eyes. “Can I?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lars nods, his eyes dark with desire. You lean in and take him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. “Fuck. You’re so good at that.” Lars groans as you take him deeper into your mouth.

Sucking off your best friend until you can feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you know that he’s close. “I’m gonna cum.” Lars warns you, but you don’t stop. You want to taste him, to feel him cum in your mouth.

With a loud moan, Lars comes, filling your mouth with his warm, salty cum. You swallow it down, savoring the taste of him.

“Fuck, that was amazing.” Lars says, pulling you up to stand in front of him.

You can feel his cock twitch against your belly as he pulls you down onto him and leans in to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only makes you want him more.

“I want you inside of me, Lars.” You whisper in his ear, your voice filled with desire.

Lars doesn’t need any more encouragement. He grabs you and pushes you down onto the sofa before quickly standing to remove his clothes and hover over you. 

He wastes no time and positions himself between your legs and looks down at you, his eyes filled with lust. “Are you ready for me, baby?” He asks, his voice husky with desire. You nod, your eyes never leaving his.

Lars enters you slowly and you can feel every inch of him inside you, and it feels amazing. Giving you a moment to adjust, he starts to move, his thrusts becoming hard and fast quickly. You can feel yourself getting closer to orgasm with every thrust.

“Yes Lars, just like that.” You moan as he hits your spot and Lars leans down and takes your nipple in his mouth again, sucking it gently. 

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside you. He growls, the sound primal and raw. It sends shivers down your spine and straight to your pussy.

Lars starts to fuck you harder, his hips snapping against yours. You can feel yourself getting close, the pressure in your lower belly growing with every thrust.

“Lars, I’m gonna come...” You gasp, your breath coming in short, sharp pants.

He doesn’t say anything, but he fucks you even harder, his thrusts so deep you can feel him in your belly. "Then fucking cum for me, baby!" 

It takes one short moment and you come hard, your pussy clenching around Lars’ dick. He growls again, moving rapidly before he comes too, his hot seed filling you up.

You lie there, panting and sweating, your bodies still joined together. Lars leans down and kisses you sloppily.

“That was amazing.” He murmurs, his voice hoarse from his own orgasm.

You smile, feeling sated and happy. “Yeah, it was.”

Lars pulls out of you, making you wince as he leaves your warm, wet pussy. He lies down on top of you, cradling you into his arms.

You look up at his face, feeling safe and loved. Lars strokes your hair, his touch soothing and comforting. "Guess we're not just friends anymore," His voice was soft, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. The words hung in the air, charged with unspoken emotions that had been building between you both for seemingly too long.

"Guess not, plus I feel like it helped you distress...like a lot," you reply, a playful glint in your eye as you trace his features with affection. The weight of your friends' disagreements seem to dissipate with each passing moment spent in each other's company.

Watching Lars shake his head in disbelief, a chuckle escaping his lips, you can't help but smile at the simple joy of being in his presence. As he leans in, burying his face in the crook of your neck, a contented sigh escaping his lips, you feel a surge of gratitude for this unexpected turn of events. 

[nuchester]

Dave & Lars (1999) 🩷

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•METALLICA☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆

------------------------------------------------

☆•James Hetfield•☆

♡That'll Do It

♡Don't Stop

♡Boot Riding

♡Smutty Headcanons

♡♤Secrets in Love

♡Lunch Break

♡Stress Relief

♡Pool Float

♡Party Favor

♡Insecure Reader

♡Somnophilia

♡Hallway Madness

♡Bed Buddies

♡Squirting

♡Ulrich!reader

♡Reproductive Perversion

♡♤Not your dad but definitely your daddy

♡What Happened?

♡♤Werewolf James

♡Lost Somewhere in Time

♡Pegging

♤Misery Needs Company (pt.1 + pt.2)

◇ What Christmas Is All About

♡ Taking Your Virginity

♡♤ Favourite Crew

♡Snapped Rope

♡Evil Plans, Happy Endings

♡Trying for a Kid

♡Catholic Corruption

♡I’ll be Quick

♡Age Gap Insecurity

♤Blood and Tears (pt.1 + pt.2)

♡ Eleven, Actually

♤ ♡ You Know You Want Me

♡ I’ll Find the Camera’s

☆•Lars Ulrich•☆

◇Godmorgen

♡Submissive Lars

♡ Have You Done This Before?

☆•Kirk Hammett•☆

♡A Kiss Before I Go

♤Bankrupt Lie

♡Fancy Dinners

☆•Cliff Burton•☆

♡Holding Hands

♤He's Still playing

◇ICU

☆•Jason Newsted•☆

♡Switching Positions

♡First Time Together

♡ Christmas Cheer

☆•Robert Trijillo•☆

------------------------------------------------

♡ smut

♤ angst

◇fluff

[artemisrogers]

Little One Kirk Hammett x reader

Kirk had his ways of letting me know when he wanted something. It was adorable when his submissive side came out. Of course tonight was one of those in between submissive and dominant moods he was in. We both have been discussing having a kid. Of course when I first brought it up Kirk became a nervous wreck about it.

I knew that he was nervous about being a good dad and being there for our child. I assured him that he would be a great parent. I was half dressed and he was shirtless taking his time with me but also giving me hickeys. I left soft kisses on his sternum my panties damp from my arousal and my nipples hard under my red bra.

"Let me take care of you tonight. I want to make mommy happy." Kirk teased me as he rolled his hard erection against me through his boxers.

I always knew what mood he was in just by what he called me. Mommy was usually when he's fully submissive and princess or slut when he's dominant. He kinda called me whatever when he was in the middle. I watched him pull his boxers down enough to let his hard dick out already precum leaking.

I shifted my thighs seeking friction on my clit and giving him a hint. I felt him part my thighs and pulled my panties down with his teeth his pupils dilating when he caught the scent of my arousal. Gripping my hands to put them above my head with one hand while he rubbed his cock across my clit a few times before slowly pushing in. I let out a soft moan of lust l.

"Good girl so fucking tight. I'm gonna take my time with you. Maybe get you pregnant."

"Ohh baby." I softly moaned as he started to roll his hips as he thrusts into me.

Soft creaks of the bed his grunts and my moans mixed together in our room. I arched my back when I felt his balls tighten drawing him deeper inside me. I felt my own orgasm catching up fast. Kirk nipped my neck leaving another hickey on me as he thrusts faster.

"Fuck I'm close K-Kirk!"

"Me too princess...oh fuck! Shit!" Kirk groaned as he felt his orgasm hit him hard. I followed soon afterwards. Once we both got down from our highs Kirk pulled me close to him spooning me. I felt his fingers absently tracing my tummy making me giggle softly.

"You know I have a chance of getting pregnant love."

"I know. But I think I'm ready to have a little one with you." Kirk said kissing the top of my head.

I put my head on his chest hearing his heartbeat as I slowly drifted off to sleep. The last thing I heard Kirk say was he had me making me feel safe and secure.

[stevenssticks]

HELLO P MY LOVE! it’s 7AM and i’m going feral but, can you write a smut about early met lars and kirk having a crush on reader and coming to her to teach them how to please a woman since they don’t have much experience? thank you dear!! <3

oh my god this is so…!!!!!!!! my little guys :(

ok so kirk and lars would be so shy and embarrassed to come up to you :( both of them are complete virgins (lars literally was confirmed to be one at the beginning of met) and they both have the biggest crush on you that they don’t know how to handle

one day it just spills out that they’re both so unbelievably inexperienced and kirk is blabbing about how he’s so anxious that he won’t be able to make his partner feel good :(

so ofc lars does THE dumbest shit ever and is like “can you help us?” and then turns bright red and is about to bolt out the door of your home, knocking over all your beers in the process before you grab him and ask

“why are you leaving? want me to help you or what?”

kirk and lars are speechless like. oh this is a dream come true!

and so you wind up laid out on the couch with both of them on their knees in front of you. you’ve got your legs spread. stripped to panties and that pretty lace bra you made sure peek a little over your shirt tonight just for them to ogle you.

“wanna make me feel good?” you ask, and their heads nod so hard you worry for their necks. you lift up your legs to shimmy your panties off and then you’re completely exposed to them. they’re both hard in their pants, aching and twitching, but this is about you. teaching them to make YOU feel good! and they’re determined to do so.

you’re prettier than anyone they’ve ever seen all laid out like this. you guide lars to go first, he was the one who asked for help of course.

you take him by the hair and gently drag him towards your cunt, “wanna feel it? go on..” and lars lifts a couple fingers up to guide his hand through your slit.

“yeah.. good boy. how about you try using your tongue? lick a nice stripe up my pussy for me. always feels so good.”

lars is quick to act, flattening his tongue on you and spreading your folds. you beckon kirk to move to watch closer, then grab him too and demand that he mimic lars’ movements. they go back and forth like that. licking and then moving to suck at you when you guide kirk to where your clit is.

they’re both so pussy drunk. faces covered and lips slick and smooth with your juices and their spit. they moan and whine into you, both pairs of eyes looking up at you so sweetly. waiting for you to tell them they’re doing a good job, making you feel good like you taught them to. you’re so close, murmuring “fffuck m’ gonna cum.. kirk c’mere and suck on my clit again.”

when you look down at kirk you lock eyes with his big pretty brown ones, and then you’re cumming on his tongue, unable to resist bucking into his mouth, him letting out a surprised little noise.

when you come down, you look over to lars. he’s still impossibly hard, possibly even harder than he already was. but now his fly is down and he’s got a hand around himself, not properly jerking, just rubbing.

“see what kirk did, lars? you’re gonna do that same thing, and then i’ll give you both a chance to make me cum with your cocks. sound good?”

lars and kirk have never been happier.