Soooo I had an idea about a kirk late 80s smut ...
Where he and the reader go to the cinema and watch a lame horror movie and kirk gets bored so he fingers the reader and when the movie finishes they fuck in the backseat of his car .
How are you guys so good at coming up with this stuff..? This is literally amazing, I hope I did it justice!
The movie flickered our bored faces. Kirk was so excited to see this new movie. It turned out to be another horror wanna-be. Briefly-it sucked.
I could tell Kirk was bummed, he wouldn't stop sighing. He did that pretty often whenever his mood soured.
Suddenly, there was a warmth on my thigh. I glanced down to see Kirk's hand gently squeezing, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of my pants.
The touch made me shiver with heat. I knew he wanted to get handsy. He always did. But even he knew he was pushing it.
I decided to let him do whatever, I knew he would keep it PG. At least I hoped.
I did my best to focus on the movie, but his hand was inching further up, snaking around to my inner thigh.
I gazed over at Kirk, he looked completely calm, watching the movie with a smirk on his pretty lips.
"Kirk." I whispered, afraid we may get caught.
Kirk complied, removing his hand. But just as I turned my gaze back to the screen, his slender hand slipped into my leggings.
"Jesus," I murmured, trying to keep my voice low.
My eyes darted around looking for anyone who may notice what we were doing. We weren't alone in the theater, although most of the seats were empty.
"Stay quiet for me, yeah?" Kirk instructed under his breath. He ghosted his fingers over my panties, applying the softest bit of pressure he could.
He didn't even have to tell me to keep my eyes on the movie. I knew the drill. "Spread your legs." His voice was low and thick. My core tensed at his words. I did what he said, slightly nudging my thighs apart.
He pulled my panties aside, the cool air hitting my teased heat.
His fingertip slid across my clit, causing me to gasp. "Shhhh," he whispered, his finger tracing my center again. He pushed two fingers inside me, eliciting a whimper from me.
He moved them in and out slowly, rubbing his thumb against my swollen bundle of nerves. A few minutes passed like this, him fucking me with his fingers while the movie played.
"K-kirk..." I breathed, quickly checking to see if anybody could see what he was doing.
He was far too good with his fingers, I had to fight not to moan out loud. His fingers were perfect, continuously curling at the exact right moment.
"Good job..." he watched my face tense and try to stay calm and keep my composure.
I could hardly take it, he knew exactly how to hit every spot.
"Kirk, stop," I turned to him, my breath labored.
Kirk pulled his fingers out of me, resting his hand as he looked at me. "What's wrong baby?" He asked softly.
"Can we go to the car?" I asked hastily.
He nodded, quickly pulling his hand from under my leggings, gathering up all of his things before standing up. Just as I stood up, kirk leaned to whisper in my ear. "I'm gonna ruin you," he snickered darkly, sucking off his fingers that were once inside me.
Kirk shut the door to the backseat of his car, my legs wrapping around him with need.
Kirk started kissing me, starting on my neck then moving to my mouth. His tongue entered my mouth, the taste of his saliva mixed with mine. Our tongues tangled together, exploring each other.
I reached between us, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his legs. I took his hard cock in my hand, stroking it up and down. I couldn't help but look at him. "Mh-" he groaned loudly at the sudden feeling, his head falling back.
He pulled my top up and off, kissing me hungrily as he trailed his way down my body, licking and kissing every inch of skin he could.
Kirk slid my panties to the side, replacing my hand on his cock with his own. I whined, wrapping my arms around his neck and melting into him.
"Lie back, Angel," he whispered huskily. My chest pressed to his as I sat on him, my head falling in the crook of his neck.
"Please put it in kirk," I whispered, my vision blurred by his curly hair.
"Hold still, pretty," he groaned, gripping my hip and pushing me down onto his erection. "Fuck!" I cried, stretching to accommodate his size.
He thrust forward, filling me completely. His lips brushed against my neck, his breathing heavy. Kirk held me there for a second, letting me adjust.
"You're so fucking tight for me," he groaned. He smiled down at me, flashing his adorable crooked teeth. He was such a cutie.
Sometimes it was hard to believe how he could get during sex based on his outside appearance.
Kirk began to wriggle his hips, filling me over and over.
“Mmh.. oh Kirk.." I whined, softly tugging his hair.
I imagined when he fingered me in the theater, how easily we could ve been caught, how good it felt to take that risk.
The car was bouncing slightly as Kirk bucked his hips upward, the windows beginning to fog.
"That's it," he murmured. I had to admit, this was far better than the shitty vampire movie we had once been watching.
"Talk to me, baby. I wanna hear that pretty voice." Kirk heaved.
I turned my head to the side, catching sight of our reflection in the window. Kirk looked so damn good. So handsome.
"Don't make me say it again," Kirk continued, his voice desperate and lustful.
"It's so-oh, so good!" I threw my head back with a groan. "I'm yours.." I huffed softly.
His thrusts quickened, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd bruised my insides. Kirk's mouth found its way to my breasts, sucking blooming purple marks.
He didn't stop, marking my chest with nips and love marks, kissing each hickey.
Whimpers spilled from his pinkish lips, I knew he was close.
It wasn't much longer until I came, both of us about to lose control. "Fuck, come on... come on..." he grunted, nearly blacking out with need.
"Yes! Yes!" he yelled as he released himself inside of me. His cum filled me, shooting deep inside my core. I clenched around him, squeezing him tighter. "So perfect," he sighed as he slowly withdrew from me.
I tried not to let my body give in, knowing I needed to pull myself together. Kirk looked down at me, his eyes passionate. He ran his knuckles along my jaw, caressing my cheeks gently. "God, you are so perfect..."
he said tenderly. I relaxed in his arms, cuddling to his warm chest. A small part of me wanted to just stay there forever, never going home.
Kirk chuckled softly, pushing a few stray curls out of his face. "Look what you've done to me," I giggled, peering down at my reddened and bruised chest and breasts.
Kirk laughed, running his fingers over his love bites. "They suit you," he raised his brows, flashing that dorky smile that I loved so much.
"And they'll be gone in a few days," he continued.
"Then I'll give you more," he giggled, giving me a quick peck.
… Lars is completely lost. I’m just.. He’s like in a completely different place from the other two. And look at the other two- they emanate hostility and anger.
Can we just talk about this for a second?
Sometime ago an asshole made a post about how Lars should have died instead of Cliff. Yeah, it was super fucked up of this person, not only for thinkng you could talk like that about someone else- but because calling itself a true fan for loving Cliff and hating Lars when Metallica was about to die the moment Cliff left.
And who kept the other two, James and Kirk, who were emotionally broken and complete lost bullets after Cliff’s death, calm? Who took care of them? It was Lars. He was just as broken as them- but he tried to compose himslf and make sure the other two were okay.
He’s the one who moved heaven and earth for them, for Cliff, for Metallica. He didn’t want Cliff’s, James and Kir’s and his own dreams to die right there, so he kept going on, always with Cliff in the band with them, always.
James himself said it, he wouldn’t be where he was if it wasn’t because of Lars. None of them would.
This is probably one of the few pictures that would show Lars in weakness during that time.
Just to make this a little sadder, for those who don’t know:
Lars and Cliff were drifting away as friends before the last gigs they ever did as a band. Cliff was closer to James and Kirk than he was to Lars.
Before and around the last gig in Stockholm, they began to rekindle their friendship.
They were the last two people on the bus.
As a band, they watched a movie together, before drawing cards.
They were the last two people asleep.
Lars fell asleep last.
Lars ran out first.
Lars ran back.
Lars found Cliff last.
While James walked off in a rage to find the black ice and Kirk cried in hysterics, Lars sat in the snow, in his underwear, staring at Cliff’s legs, until the ambulance arrived.
Lars and James sat in the same room when the doctor came in to tell them Cliff passed.
And the words Lars said to the doctor, when the doctor said, “your friend didn’t make it”–
“He’s not our friend. He’s our brother.”
You will always hear Kirk and James talk about Cliff in fondness. James the most. But Lars will not. Not only because he and Cliff were not as close towards the end of Cliff’s life, but because he will not dwell on a past he can’t change, else it will drag him deep into a depression he will never be able to dig himself out of. Because he would do anything to bring Cliff back. To make him not go into that bunk. To stay up a little longer with him. To be closer to him. To wait one more day and not be so eager going into Copenhagen, his hometown, and see all his friends and family. Maybe then, Cliff would be alive. Maybe then, it never would’ve happened.
Envy is an ugly monster but I can't stop thinking about the people who got to see Until It Sleeps by Metallica performed live in the year of our lord 2023.
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