Metallica one shots and headcannons

Walking under the rain🌧 (Kirk Hammett one shot)

The rain was soft, almost gentle, tapping rhythmically against the umbrella above our heads. The cool autumn air made my cheeks pink, but I didn't mind. Kirk's warmth was all I needed. He always had this way of making everything feel okay—no matter the weather or the world outside.

His arm was around my shoulders, pulling me in just a little bit closer, and I nestled deeper into the comfort of his oversized sweater. The wool was thick and soft, and it had a way of making me feel safe—like nothing could touch us while we were wrapped in it. His scent—earthy, warm, a little bit of coffee—mixed with the crispness of the fall air, and I couldn't help but take a deep breath, letting it fill me.

The street was almost eerily quiet, save for the sound of the rain and the occasional gust of wind. The trees, adorned in their fiery autumn colors, shed their leaves with a kind of peaceful inevitability. The ground beneath our feet crunched softly with each step. It was the kind of walk you couldn't rush, one that felt like it was meant to be savored.

"I'm glad we decided to take the walk," I said, my voice a little softer than usual, as if the rain had somehow made everything more intimate, more sacred.

Kirk glanced down at me with a small, fond smile. "Me too," he said, his voice warm and steady. "There's something about the rain, the way it makes everything feel slower. Like we've got all the time in the world."

I smiled up at him, pulling my sweater tighter around myself. There was no rush. No obligations. Just us, walking in the rain, enjoying the simple rhythm of the moment. The rain had a way of making everything feel suspended, as if we were the only two people in the world. The outside noise seemed to disappear, leaving nothing but the soft patter of raindrops and the warmth of Kirk's presence beside me.

We walked side by side, comfortably quiet, the only sound our footsteps on the wet pavement and the occasional rustle of leaves being swept by the wind. It was the kind of silence you didn't mind, one that wrapped around you like a blanket, reassuring and peaceful.

I tugged the collar of my sweater up higher, tucking my chin into the warmth of the fabric. The wind picked up a little, sending stray raindrops beneath the umbrella, but I didn't care. I pressed closer to Kirk, the chill of the rain now a distant thing. His arm tightened around me, drawing me in a little more, and I couldn't help but lean into him, feeling the heat of his body radiate through the layers of our clothes.

Without thinking, my fingers brushed his hand, and almost instantly, his fingers intertwined with mine. It was a small gesture, one that felt completely natural, like we had done it a thousand times before. His hand was warm, steady, and I tightened my grip on him, as if to hold on to this moment just a little longer.

"You're quiet," he said, glancing down at me, his voice soft but curious.

I shrugged, not quite sure how to explain the swirl of emotions inside me. "Just... enjoying this," I murmured. "I don't think I've ever felt so... peaceful."

Kirk's smile softened, and he squeezed my hand gently. "I know what you mean. Everything feels... perfect, doesn't it?" He said it as if he understood exactly what I was feeling. Like he could read my thoughts, like the quiet was exactly what I needed.

I nodded, leaning my head a little further into his shoulder. The world around us felt quiet and still, and for once, I didn't feel the need to rush. It wasn't just the rain or the autumn air; it was something about being here with him, walking through this shared moment. Time seemed to stretch, slow down, like everything was aligned perfectly.

The streetlights flickered on, casting soft, golden glows across the wet pavement. The light seemed to turn the world into something out of a dream, ethereal, like we were the only ones here, in this little bubble of time. I wanted to stay in that bubble forever, to keep walking like this, hand in hand with him, until the rain stopped and the world began again.

I took a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs as I looked up at him. "Do you think about the future?" The question came out of nowhere, unexpected, but I couldn't shake the curiosity that had been bubbling inside me. It felt like the right time to ask, like this moment, quiet and safe, was the perfect place to say the things I often kept to myself.

Kirk glanced down at me, his steps slowing just a little as he processed the question. There was a pause, a small beat where the world around us seemed to hold its breath. I wasn't sure why I asked. Maybe because of the peace I felt, or maybe because of the way he made everything feel certain when the rest of the world was so unpredictable.

"Of course I do," he said, his voice steady, reassuring. "But I don't think about it the way people usually do. I don't worry about the years ahead or all the stuff we're supposed to accomplish. I think about moments like this. Walking with you. Holding your hand. This is what I want. Right here."

My heart fluttered, warmth spreading through me despite the chill in the air. His words settled into my chest like a quiet promise, making everything feel so much simpler. It wasn't about plans or destinations—it was about right now. About us. I squeezed his hand tighter, pulling him just a little closer, as if trying to hold on to the magic of the moment.

"I like that," I whispered, my voice quiet, barely above the hum of the rain. "I like it a lot."

He didn't say anything else, but I felt the truth of his words hanging between us, like a bond stronger than anything spoken. We didn't need to explain more; we just needed to be.

We continued walking, the rain still falling softly around us. The umbrella kept us dry, but the warmth between us, the simple connection we shared, kept me grounded. The world around us could be as loud or as busy as it wanted to be, but here, with Kirk's hand in mine, everything felt like it was exactly where it needed to be.

The quiet was comforting, but it wasn't lonely. It was peaceful in a way that only being with him could make it. We walked through the evening, our footsteps syncing in perfect harmony, with the soft rhythm of the rain and the occasional rustle of leaves as our soundtrack.

And in that moment, with the world wrapped in golden light from the streetlamps and the rain still falling gently, I knew something—something that wasn't about promises or plans, but about the kind of love that felt effortless. It was in the quiet, in the small touches, in the shared silence that spoke louder than any words could. And in Kirk, I found the peace I never knew I needed.