Anshyaa - ANSHY

i got lazy halfway, dont talk about it

Praise Kink Poll

Alright, hello everyone... This is the first poll of this Kinktober and I want to know which ship you would like to see on the day 9 which is Praise Kink.

I also want to thank the support that this Kinktober has had, I appreciate every Like you have left, it means a lot to me, love you <3

If it's another ship, leave it in comments

Do I have to say anything else like?

"The Real RomCom" Kirk Hammett x Fem!Reader

Summery: You and Kirk are talking and clear the air of any awkwardness on why you’re so shy and bond :P (fluff, fluff, fluffy, fluff.) (also not proof read)

TW: Alcoholism, mentions of drugs, name calling, anxiety, language.

PT 3

1984-85 Kirk Hammett

Your conversation migrated back to the kitchen where you both are now sitting opposite from each other on the counter top drinking water.

“I knew you guys were before I came here.” you embarrassingly admitted. It is an every day that you meet a famous band. You were shocked you were going through telling Kirk this, but here you are. “ as you can see, I have a great taste in music.” You jokingly boast pointing to your shirt. The only way you knew how to hide your anxiety was to laugh your way out of the situation.

Kirk left at your sarcasm, “Yep, I’m well aware.”

“I’ve been reading about you guys too. Listening to the music was awesome but I like reading what makes up the band, you know?”

Kirk quickly agrees with you, “Yeah absolutely! I do the same thing with music and movies. But why didn’t you say you were a fan?”

They were it was. The question you were dreading the whole night, “why are you so quiet?” you thought, “does she speak?” there is no denying you had social anxiety, but you didn’t like having to blow out about it when someone decided it was a problem. You didn’t want it to be anybody’s business because you’re the one who has the problem. You have several lines you have picked out when the situation in springs itself onto you. Most of them, being sarcastic, rude, and snarky with a dash of smart ass. But you knew now that you wanted to be honest with the guy you like. “ Well, I have some anxiety when I’m at parties, which is a big reason I don’t go to them, Beck does, though, all the time.” You say, trying to keep your voice loud enough so Kirk can hear you but quiet enough that other people can’t.

Kirk understandably nods, taking a mental note that you don’t like party’s. “I know it doesn’t seem like it but I don’t like being around people all that much either.”

You blink at his words, “But you’re a performer. You’re constantly on stage in front of thousands of people.”

“Yeah, but the talking part is my downfall.”

You tilt your head back while making an “ooo” sound. “Well, you’re not doing too bad right now.”

He chuckled catching your tone, “Heh, thanks. I could say the same. Could.” He smirked.

You let out a laugh, “Wow. Thank you so much Kirk, my anxiety is cured.” Lightly nudging his leg with your foot, you realize what song started to play. “Hey I know how to play this song!” You yelled over a very loud version of “The Trooper”.

Kirks eye were as wide as saucers, “You play?!” He asked, shocked and impatient waiting for your answer.

You nod quickly, “yeah on my guitar!”

Hearing this, Kirk wasted no time jumping from the counter, taking your hand and pulling you out of the kitchen. “Whoa, whoa, slow down! Where are we going!?” You laughed as Kirk and you ripped through the swinging doors and b-lining for the stairs. Barely missing the people you both were zipping passed

“You’ve got to be the coolest fucking chick here. I’m gonna show you something.” He said taking two at a time up the stairs. You never read anything saying Kirk had agility, you were impressed.

You quickly pushed the thought away as Kirk had almost run into someone as you approached the top of the stairs. “Holy hell Kirk, slow down! You’re gonna kill someone!” You cackle as you hear a faint apology leave him.

By shear luck, you both make it to the top of the stairs in one piece. You catch Beck’s curious eyes. “Don’t mind us!” Kirk yelled, whilst everyone now minding us. Not knowing in the moment how to respond to Beck, you shrug your shoulders as Kirk pulls you out of sight.

-Earlier after Beck’s chat with Lars:

Lars plopped down onto the couch with Beck sitting in the love seat across from him. “Beck I swear we were just having fun- Ow!” James and Cliff look up from the conversation they were having.

Beck cut off Lars’ statement by chucking a pillow at him. “I don’t wanna fucking hear it, I told you that she doesn’t drink like that and it wouldn’t help.” She yelled pointing her finger in an accusing way at Lars, in result made him sink lower in to the seat.

“What the hell did you do now Lars?” James asked shooting a questioning look over to his friend. Lars opened his mouth to defend himself but was quickly interjected by Beck, “You’re drummer got my best friend drunk because he thought she “needed it”. You don’t know how she get when she’s drunk! It can be a serious hand full sometimes.”

“Dude it’s not like I drugged her!” Lars spat.

“I don’t fucking know that!” Beck fired back.

“Well I’m sure she’s fine now, Kirk’s got her downstairs, so could you both please. Chill the fuck out.” Cliff supplied, quieting the “brats” of the group as Kirk put it one day. Beck and Lars gave each other a glare before sulking quietly in their seats.

“Do you guys want to play Gin or do you wanna continue hating each other?” James asked. Beck gave a final look to Lars as Beck sighed and got out of her seat to play. Lars following suit and ironically, forcing to sit next to her. “Okay,” James began. “We all know how to play yes?” Beck, Cliff, and Lars all nod. “Great, Cliff you’re on my team.”

“What? Why do I have to be stuck with her!” Lars whined, like a child.

Beck whipped her head towards him and scoffed, “Fuck you, deal with it!” She yelled.

Lars shook his head and brought his elbows to the table so his arms could hold his head up. “Let’s just play.” He said admitting defeat which gave Beck a small sense of pride.

“So, it’s regular Gin but each set you make your opponent has to take a shot, for each run you make your opponent has to take a double shot.” James explained. They all nodded and began to play with Lars passing the 10 cards on either side of the table. It’s not even halfway through the first round when James knocks on the table.

“Fuck already?” Beck asked, not believing they’ve already gotten their cards sorted out.

“What do you wanna do now?” Lars asked Beck, there really wasn’t much they could do at this point, they barely had a set and the run they were trying to make looked pitiful.

“Well throw that one away and let’s see what we get.” Lars nodded and did what he was instructed. The card he pulled didn’t work in their favor.

Lars lowered his head, “Fock.” And Beck agreed. They knocked indicating they were done and they all laid their cards out. You couldn’t believe the luck Cliff and James had. Two sets and a run.

James grabbed the vodka and two shot glasses, “Read’ em and weep ladies. Time to drink.”

Smirnoff, Beck thought, of course. Lars and her both let out a defeated grumble as the reached for the glasses. Cliff poured the first, “Whoa, whoa, easy!” Beck held up a hand but Cliff stopped when he felt like it. Lars sighed with Beck and tapped the glass on the table before forcing the liquor down their throats.

Lars put his glass down first, “This was more fun earlier.” He pouted. Beck elbowed him as Cliff poured another tall one. This one was downed then two more, taking their punishments like champs they set their glasses down.

“Okay, again. This time we’re gonna win.” Beck stated catching her breath with Lars agreeing. James set it up and Cliff dealt the cards. Drone then on the game went like that back and forth. Soon, they were all too tipsy to even remember the game’s name and Beck completely forgetting her best friend down stairs.

“Ha! A red Ace!” Lars yelled drunkenly, “Go Fish!” Everyone laughed out loud.

“You fucking idiot, this is Black Jack!” James snorted, reaching to smack Lars and Becks cards.

Beck was pulled from the conversation when she heard what sounded like a stampede of buffalos up the stairs. “What the fuck?” She said turning her attention towards who was at the stairs. Her eyes were darting back and forth, struggling to stay on a still object. Oh, it’s Y/N, she thought. Why was she being dragged by someone who looks like Kirk?

“Don’t mind us!” Beck heard. She saw you shrug and disappear. “Well, ok then.” Lars said and everyone started laughing again as Beck hadn’t realized they had caught everyone’s attention. Beck went back to conversing with the group as her subconscious mind reassured her you were ok and with Kirk.

END OF PART 3!!!!!

A/N: Um let’s pretend that I didn’t just ignore everyone for half a year 👀. I hope you enjoyed, I’m currently working on Dave stuff so tell me what you want to read. Smut is iffy for me but if you request I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you sm for being this unbelievably patient.❤️❤️

Tag-list: @mybloodyvalentine09 , @lunesispunk , @kirkslov3r

my contribution to the metallica jameson toxic yaoi club

Only for anatomical purposes:

I need him so bad 😪

Jason and James 🐰🦁

Hear me out, phone sex with 2004 James on his first tour sober and he’s just so desperate for his girl and starts telling her what to do and asks stuff like “what are you wearing?” Or saying “I want you to go lay in bed in just your panties for me baby.”

IVE ALWAYS WANTED TO WRITE PHONE SEX WITH JAMES

𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 ²⁰⁰⁴

It was just two weeks since James left for tour, first one sober, and I was already aching from his absence. We kept in touch with calls, but tonight I just felt lonely. I missed his hands on me, his voice, and how he made me feel. I missed him.

I lay down on our bed, staring at the ceiling, when my phone rang. It was James, he was calling me from his hotel room. I answered the phone right away, and even the sound of his voice when he answered, my heart jumped a beat.

"Hey, baby." His deep and whining voice managed to give me chills.

"Hey, James," I answered while trying to keep my voice steady.

"I miss you," he said lowly, and it was quite hard to miss the yearning in his tone. "It's so hard not being with you."

"I miss you too, honey." My throat tightened a little. "I miss you so much."

For a sec, there was just silence apart from the sound of our breathing. His voice then returned on the line, softer and more personal. "What are you wearing?"

His question caught me off guard and yet it excited me., as I knew exactly where this was headed "Um, just one of your old T shirts," I said, looking down at the worn fabric. "And panties."

"God, I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. "Want you to do something for me, baby."

"Anything," I whispered.

"I want you to go lay in bed in just your panties for me. Can you do that?" he asked roughly, the sound of rustling fabric coming from his line.

"Yes," I breathed, already moving to strip off the t-shirt. I tossed it aside and snuggled into the duvet, feeling the cool sheets against my skin.

"Good girl," I heard he smiled. "Now I want you to touch yourself. Just over your panties… very gently."

I did slowly what he asked, running my fingers over the fabric and feeling heat grow between my legs. "I'm touching myself," I admitted, melting into the bed as I did as he asked.

"Tell me what that feels like," he encouraged, voice crackling over the phone.

"It feels good," I whispered. "Warm a-and soft..."

"Fuck, I wish I were there to feel you," he groaned. "I'm so hard just thinking about you."

"What are you doing?" I asked, fingers still tantalizingly rubbing.

"I'm lying on the bed, just in my boxers," he said. "I'm so hard, baby. I'm stroking myself through the fabric, imagining it's your hand."

The mental image making my clit throb. "God… I want to touch you," I said softly.

"Slide your panties off," he directed. "I want you to touch your pretty pussy for me."

I slipped the panties off and tossed them to the side, opening my legs a little more as I touched myself. "I'm so wet, James," I confessed, feeling the slickness on my fingers.

"God, I can't wait to taste you again," he groaned. "Rub your clit for me. Make yourself feel good."

I circled my clit with my fingers, giving in a little whine before I could censor myself. "I'm rubbing my clit," I strained, trying to speak louder than the whisper that emerged.

"Fuck, wish I were there to lick you, make you cum in my mouth," his voice rising with raw desire, had her listening openmouthed. "I’m stroking my cock now, baby. I'm so hard for you."

"What’s it like?" I moaned, wanting to be able to picture every detail as I began to squirm under my own ministrations on myself.

"Feels so good," he strained. "How hard I am, moving my hand up and down, pretending is your mouth, your pretty little pussy."

"I need you inside me," I moaned, and the heat built between my legs even more now. "I want you, James."

"I want you too, baby," he rasped, his voice raw with need. "I want you to push two fingers inside yourself. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," I breathed, slipping my fingers inside. The sensation was oh so sharp, and I could feel myself clenching around it.

"God, I wish I could feel you around my cock," he groaned. "Move your fingers in and out, just like I would."

I did, sliding my finger slow, feeling the wet and the heat. "I'm fucking myself with my fingers, James," I shook, rocking my hips into my palm.

"That's so hot," he agreed. "I’m pumping my cock, imagining it's inside you, feeling how tight and wet you are… just for me.."

"I want to taste you," I said, feeling bold. "I want to lick your cock, make you cum down my throat…”

"God, baby, you're killin’ me," he moaned. "I'm so close, just thinking about my cock filling your mouth."

"I'm so close too," I said and added a third finger, feeling the pressure start to lay on me.

He groaned again. "Come for me, baby. Let me hear you."

His voice, his vision in my head of him stroking himself was too much. My whole body shook and I came with a cry, feeling myself clench and ooze around my fingers

"Fuck, that's it," he groaned. "I'm cumming too, baby. I'm cumming- so hard…”

I could hear his breath hold, before a loud groan filled my ear. “Fuck… I’m covered in cum… all for you baby.”

How a man should be to drive me crazy:

Handsome

Silly

Talented

Wild

James Hetfield

OK SO UHH

‘04 (optional) JAMES HAS A BREAKDOWN/PANIC ATTACK IN FRONT OF READER CUZ HE DOESNT THINK HES ENOUGH FOR HER AND UHHH SHE COMFORTS HIM AND THEY FUCK IN LOTUS POSITION 😻😻😻Jaymz pov would be really cool but either way is fine :D

I’ve been thinking abt this all day while at work and omg 😭

I LOOOOVVVE PASSIONATE STUFF ITS SO BEAUTIFUL

Based this around the SKOM era

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 ²⁰⁰²

I sat at the edge of the bed in my hotel room, staring down through the floor to nowhere in particular. My chest was tight, squeezed by an invisible hand that tightened with each breath.

The world outside, claustrophobic. My own breathing echoed through my ears, jaded.

The documentary crew left a few hours ago. Their equipment was packed away, and their annoying chatter began to fade in my mind. They were here to capture the making of our new album, aka, the Metallica therapy session.

But what I felt was exposed, to be laid for everyone to see. The cameras never lie: they catch every bit of frustration, stumble, and every drink. Oh God, Oh fuck, the drinking.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the sweat on my palm. Everything was uncomfortable. My heart thumped as my thoughts scattered.

The rehab had helped, at least a little. I felt like such a fake. Like I wasn't enough for the band or the fans, especially her. For anyone.

She is my everything, my beautiful girl. But even rocks erode under constant waves. I knew that I was tugging her down, dragging a weight she didn't deserve to carry.

I heard the door of our suite open and close softly. Footsteps drew closer, but I still could not relieve myself from looking up. A tingling sensation on my skin told me she was there before I saw her. Then she knelt beside me; her eyes searched mine.

"James?" Her voice was soft, concerned. "What's going on, Honey?"

I swallowed hard, trying to find words. My throat was dry, my tongue felt thick. I shook my head. I couldn't talk. The tears started pouring, and I clenched my fists, trying to hold them back. But it was too much. The dam was broken and the words were falling out.

"I can't do this," I choked out. "I can't be what everyone wants me to be. I am a mess. I'm… I'm awful. I'm a pathetic excuse for a man."

Her eyes widened, and she reached to touch my arm, though I drew back, standing abruptly. The room spun. I gripped the back of the chair to steady myself. "I'm failing, at everything. The band, the album, rehab… you. I'm failing you."

"James, no…" She got to her feet, and again she reached out for me, but I stepped back again, shaking my head.

"I'm a fake," I said, yelling now. "Everyone believes I am this… this badass metal guy, but I am just some broken little boy. I can't take this. I can't take all of this!"

"James, please…" She took a step closer. I did not hear her. The blood pounded in my ears, my vision blurring with tears. I went down on my knees, clasping my head and trying to block out the noise in my head, the voices telling me what a piece of rubbish I was.

"I'm not enough!" I growled out, my voice cracking. "I'm not enough for anyone!"

She knelt down next to me with her arms wrapped around me. I pushed at her, but she grasped me tightly with all her might. "Shhh, James. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here."

Her words were trying to get to me, but I was drowning too deep to grab the hold of it. My body was wracked with sobs, and I couldn't smother them. I was shaking, my whole body trembling. "I'm so sorry," I gasped. "I'm so, so sorry."

"James, look at me," she said, her voice level and low. “Honey, look at me.” She gently took my chin in her hand, forcing me to meet her eye. "You are not a failure. You aren't worthless. You're human. You're allowed to struggle. And you are a good man."

I shook my head as the tears streamed down my face. "I'm not enough," I whispered. "I'll never be enough."

"Yes, you are," she said firmly. "You're more than enough. For me, for the band, for the everyone. You're more than enough, James. And it's okay to need help. It's okay to be vulnerable."

I collapsed against her, my head on her shoulder, the sobs coming harder now. She rocked me back and forth gently, stroking my hair. "It's okay, James. Let it out. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She held me close, whispering reassurances and rocking me back and forth like some child. "I love you," she said softly, "and I'm here."

The panic began to subside, the clench in my chest loosening. My breathing began to slow down, my sobs turning to whimpers. She was here, believing in me where I couldn't believe in myself.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered again, my voice hoarse.

"Don't be sorry, Honey," she said, pressing her lips on my forehead. "Just be here with me. Just breathe.”

I nodded, closing my eyes and letting her hold me. She looked down at me with a mix of compassion and tenderness in her eyes. Her voice came in low, "I want to distract you… make you feel better. You’ve been way too tense, James."

I turned my head, feeling my reluctance shower over me. "I don't think that would be such a good idea," I grumbled, scrubbing at the remaining squiggles of tears with the back of my hand.

The very last thing I wanted was to burden her, to drag her down into my darkness.

She tipped her head back onto its side, her eyes held mine. "What's there for me to do, James? What do you need?”

I fumbled for words as my mind was nothing but an incoherent jumble. "I… I don't know," I said awkwardly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

That wasn't the whole truth, though admitting what I really wanted was impossible. I looked away, twitching at my fingers nervously.

She saw right through me, curling her lips into a knowing smile. She reached out and brushed her fingers very lightly down my cheek. "You wanna have sex, don't you?" she asked, laughing softly.

I felt my face flushing, and I stuttered, "I… I mean…" My voice faded away. I couldn't stand the look in her eyes.

The truth is that it did cross my mind, a desperate reach for something or anything that would connect me to her.

She cupped my face in her hands, turning it gently so I had no choice but to look at her. "James, it's okay," she said, her voice soothing. "It's okay to want to be comforted. There's nothing wrong with that."

I studied her face for any sense of pity or frustration, but there was only love. I let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly. "I… I guess I do," I said barely above a whisper. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to, honey.”

She shook her head, silencing me with a soft, gentle kiss on the lips. "I want to, James," she mumbled against my lips. "I want to be close to you. Help you feel better."

So I reached up, my hand trembling, and cupped her cheek, moving my lips to love hers.

Her fingers tangled in my hair as she pulled me closer. Her lips were exceedingly warm, they seemed to press into my bones.

Backward on the bed, her body covered mine, pinning me in, to the present.

For some time then, we lost ourselves. It wasn't about the physical act, it's about comfort, this woman who I loved more than life. Every touch, every kiss said she was right by my side.

We slid into movement, our bodies quickening to a pace both remembered and totally new. She shifted again, sitting in my lap with her legs around my sides, intertwined. The position pushed us closer, our bodies were pressed so intimately bare, our faces inches apart.

“You doing okay?” She whispered, hovering over my erection. The dark of the night bathed her beautiful face, the sapphire sky leaking in through the wonder and making her look that much more stunning.

Her breath on my lips, her heartbeat against my chest, it was the most intimate kind of position. “Yeah… I’m okay.”

I gently held her, staring into her eyes as she sank down onto me. Tho both of us groaned in unison, and she made sure to keep a good grip on my shoulders.

We began to move, our bodies finding a slow, gentle thrust. It wasn't about getting somewhere fast, it was about connection, feeling each other fully. Every movement was done with forethought, every touch meaningful.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, her fingers threading through my delicate hairs on my nape as I held her close, my hands on her back. I could feel her forehead against mine as we sat like that.

"James," she whispered lowly, a hundred different kinds of love in her voice. "You feel s-so good."

"You too," I murmured, my voice rough with emotion. "God, I love you so much.

She smiled, soft, radiant, and kissed me once more. "I love you t-too. So much."

It was the most intimate thing, the most loving experience I ever had. Every touch, every kiss, every single movement.

"Look at me," she whispered, her eyes locking on mine. "I want to see you."

I nodded, holding her gaze. "I'm here. I'm with you."

She smiled, shining her eyes with love at me. "Stay with me."

"I will," I vowed, choked with emotion. "Always."

"I love you," she whispered, her voice full of emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I replied, my voice rough with emotion. "More than anything."

It wasn't about how fast I came, it was more about the feeling of every second.

"I'm close," she whispered, her voice trembling with her pleads. "James, I'm so close."

"Me, too," I rumbled, my own voice harsh with emotion. "God, you feel so good..."

She smiled again then, a beautiful, euphoric smile, and kissed me once more. "Stay with me," she whispered. "Cum with me."

"Always," I promised. "Always."

Finally, I twitched and stilled as she moaned her release. I held her so tight, bucking slightly as I came. I let out a rough breath, trying to catch up with myself as I felt her fill with my seed.

We lay that way, our bodies knotted, our hearts wrestling each other from inside our chests.

"Thank you," I whispered, burying my face in her warm neck, leaving kisses.