Metallica one shots and headcannons

Aftercare🩸(Kirk Hammett one shot-kinktober)

 Warnings: romantic and intimate scenes

The soft glow from the bedside lamp bathed the room in a gentle warmth. We lay together, limbs tangled, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. Every slow rise and fall of his chest grounded me, a reminder of the closeness we now shared. His hand drifted along my back in soft, soothing motions, leaving a trail of comfort and calm in its wake.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, his deep voice rumbling through his chest.

I lifted my head slightly to meet his gaze, the tiredness in my body melting away under his watchful eyes. "Better now... just catching my breath," I murmured, a small smile tugging at my lips.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "That's a good sign," he teased, his fingers continuing their gentle path up and down my spine. "Was worried I might've overdone it."

A playful hum escaped me as I nestled closer against him. "Maybe. I'm not sure I can move for a while."

"Then stay right here." He tightened his hold around me, wrapping me in a cocoon of warmth. "I'm not letting go anytime soon."

His words were like a quiet promise, wrapping themselves around me as securely as his arms. The silence between us was easy, filled with the soft sounds of our breathing and the muffled hum of the world outside. There was no need for words, not when the quiet beat of his heart against my ear said everything I needed to hear.

After a few moments, I shifted slightly, my body molding into his as I traced idle patterns across his chest. "I could get used to this," I whispered, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat steady beneath my fingers.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low and comforting. "Because I plan to keep you right here."

I closed my eyes, content in the quiet moments we shared. Time seemed to stretch and blur, each second dissolving into the next as we simply existed in each other's presence. His fingers, still tracing those slow, soothing paths across my back, lulled me into a state of peace I hadn't felt in a long time.

But he wasn't one to let the silence linger too long.

"You know," he started, a mischievous note creeping into his tone, "I'm not usually one to brag, but I have been told I can be terrifying."

I raised an eyebrow, peeking up at him through my lashes. "Oh really? And who exactly told you that?"

"People," he said with an exaggerated nod. "I've got a reputation, you know."

I rolled my eyes, already sensing where this was going. "A reputation, huh? And what exactly are you so scared about?"

His grin widened, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I could tell you," he began, pausing for dramatic effect, "but it might just spook you."

I groaned, laughing despite myself. "Okay, now you're just reaching."

"No, seriously," he insisted, trying to keep a straight face. "I know things... terrifying things. Like why ghosts don't go to parties."

I sighed, already shaking my head. "Oh no, here we go. Why?"

"Because," he said with a smirk, "they have no body to dance with."

I let out a small laugh, burying my face against his chest. "That's terrible."

"You love it," he teased, his arms wrapping around me as he held me tighter.

I couldn't help but smile, his laughter infecting me as I settled back against him. The joke, as silly as it was, somehow made the moment feel lighter, more intimate. We weren't just lying together in the afterglow of passion—we were sharing a connection, a bond that went beyond words or touch.

"I love you," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

I felt him still for a moment, his hand pausing on my back. Then, slowly, he lifted my chin with his fingers, guiding my gaze to meet his. His eyes softened, a tender smile playing on his lips as he leaned down to brush a gentle kiss against my forehead.

"I love you too," he murmured, the sincerity in his voice sending warmth coursing through me.

The words hung in the air between us, unspoken for too long but now finally given life. And in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The outside world, the worries, the chaos—none of it mattered. All that existed was him and me, wrapped up in each other.

His hand moved from my back to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing softly along my skin. I leaned into the touch, savoring the warmth and the tenderness behind it. He tilted my face up to his, our eyes locking as the space between us seemed to shrink.

He kissed me then, softly at first, his lips moving against mine with a kind of slow reverence that made my heart swell. I responded in kind, our breaths mingling as we deepened the kiss, the world narrowing down to the feel of him against me, the warmth of his touch, the sweetness of his lips.

When we finally pulled back, our foreheads rested together, breath mingling in the small space between us. "You always know how to make me feel safe," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

He smiled softly, his hand stroking my hair. "I always will."

And we stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, the soft glow of the lamp casting a gentle halo around us. There was nothing more we needed—just the quiet understanding that whatever challenges came, we would always find our way back to this. To each other.