Metallica one shots and headcannons

Love on ice⛸ 🤍(Kirk Hammett one shot)

November was doing its best impression of December tonight. Everything felt festive—the twinkling lights strung across the city streets, the soft music drifting from nearby holiday markets, and even the faint smell of roasted chestnuts and pine on the breeze. I tugged my coat tighter around me, trying to shield myself from the cold, as I stood by the outdoor skating rink.

Beside me, Kirk looked like a kid about to open a giant Christmas present. His grin was wide, his breath puffing into little clouds as he bounced on his heels.

"This," he said, gesturing dramatically at the rink in front of us, "is gonna be amazing."

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You've never been ice skating before, Kirk. I feel like you're underestimating the whole 'balance on blades on slippery ice' thing."

He waved me off, looking entirely too confident for someone who hadn't even set foot on the ice yet. "Please. It's just sliding around, right? How hard can it be?"

"Famous last words," I teased.

"Mark my words, Y/N," he declared, puffing out his chest, "I'm gonna nail this on the first try. You'll be begging me to teach you tricks by the end of the night."

I couldn't hold back my laugh as we headed to the rental booth. "Alright, Mr. Natural Athlete, let's see how you do."

It only took about five minutes for Kirk to realize he might have overestimated himself.

We stepped onto the ice together, his hand gripping mine tightly as he took his first tentative step. The moment his skate touched the surface, his legs wobbled dangerously. He flailed his arms, trying to find his balance, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing too hard.

"Okay," he muttered under his breath, gripping the railing with his free hand. "It's...a little trickier than it looks."

"Uh-huh," I said, the corners of my mouth twitching. "Want to hold onto the wall for a bit?"

"No way," he said, puffing up again, though his hand tightened around mine. "I've got this. Just...give me a second."

We shuffled forward at a snail's pace, Kirk wobbling with every step. It took everything in me to keep a straight face as he muttered things like "just warming up" and "totally fine" under his breath.

But after a few minutes, I couldn't resist the urge to show off just a little. I let go of his hand, skating a few feet ahead of him, gliding smoothly across the ice.

"Wait," he called after me, his eyes widening. "How are you doing that?!"

I turned back, skating in a lazy curve to face him. "Doing what?"

"That!" he said, gesturing at me with his free hand and nearly losing his balance in the process. "You're just...sliding around like it's nothing! You're good at this! Why didn't you tell me you knew how to skate?"