Metallica one shots and headcannons

Held in desire-(Lars Ulrich one shot)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, sensuality, passion, soft sex

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The room was quiet, save for the sound of our breathing, the only witness to the delicate rhythm we were building together. Lars's hands were gentle but firm as they rested on my hips, his fingers caressing the soft skin there, sending a rush of warmth through me. His eyes met mine, intense and filled with something deeper than I could name, and he leaned down, his lips brushing softly against my neck.

"I've wanted this," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "Wanted you... for so long." His voice was thick, a mix of desire and reverence.

I tilted my head, inviting him closer, feeling his breath hitch as his lips traced the line of my jaw. His kisses were slow, deliberate, each one lingering, like he wanted to savor the moment. I closed my eyes, letting myself melt into the sensation of his touch, his mouth, the warmth of his body pressing so intimately against mine.

I ran my fingers through his hair, tugging him back just slightly so I could meet his lips with my own. The kiss was soft at first, exploring, tasting. But as our bodies pressed together more closely, the kiss deepened—slow, languid, as if we had all the time in the world. His hands slid from my hips to the small of my back, pulling me against him, and I could feel the heat of his desire through the thin fabric of our clothes.

With a quick twist, I shifted the balance, rolling him onto his back. He let out a surprised laugh, his grin wide and unrestrained as he looked up at me.

"Taking charge now, huh?" he teased, though his voice was shaky, his chest rising and falling a little faster.

"Someone has to," I replied, my tone playful but thick with emotion as I straddled him, my palms resting on his chest. "You're not the only one who gets to have their way."

His hands instinctively moved to my thighs, but I caught his wrists, pinning them to the bed. "No touching," I said, arching an eyebrow at him.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing a deep pink. "You know what you're doing to me, don't you?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why don't you tell me?" I murmured, leaning down so my lips hovered just above his.

"You're driving me insane," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. His breath hitched when I trailed my fingers down his chest, feeling the way his body responded to every touch. "Every time you move, every time you touch me—it's like I'm losing control."

I paused, letting his words sink in, feeling the weight of his confession settle between us. "Good," I whispered against his skin. "That's exactly what I want."

The way he trembled beneath me, the way his body softened, his eyes fluttering shut—it was intoxicating. For a moment, he was completely mine, undone by the way I whispered his name, by the slow, deliberate way I explored him.

But Lars was never one to stay on the bottom for long. With a sudden surge, he flipped us again, his body pressing into mine, his breath ragged as he pinned me down. His grin was sharp, but his eyes were soft, almost hesitant as he cupped my face in his hands.