metal/grunge/rock oneshots bc why not

kirk hammett - paradise city (smut :p)

1987
y/n goes to a bar where she meets kirk and they hit it off, eventually going back to kirks hotel room?!?! 😖🙌 basic plot but what evahhhhhhh suck my cock!1!!
Y/n - your name

hiiii it's me the author I'm gonna try and write some smut, probably only a little cuz I don't write that shit, but I'll try for all u krik lovers out there
enjoy 😼

I asked for a Jack Daniel's. This was not a Jack Daniel's.

"Uhm, hey!" I called for the bar tender.

"What?" He walked over to me, drying off a glass cup with a white towel.

"Uh, this isn't a Jack." I slid the glass over to him.

"Yeah, I know."

"Okay? This isn't what I fuckin' asked for." I was starting to get irritated.

Literally doesn't make fucking sense, give me what I want.

"Well, I'm not gonna give a girl a Jack." He started to walk away.

"The fucks that supposed to mean, jackass?"

He glanced at me and continued to walk away.

"Yeah, fuck you too." I muttered, resting my head on my propped up hand.

"Hi, is this seat taken?" I glanced up from my not Jack Daniel's, and saw-

"Kirk Hammett?!" I exclaimed, my eyes widening in utter confusion and surprise.

Kirk smiled at me, replying with,

"Uh, yeah that's me." He giggled slightly.

"Shit, uh, well, no the seat isn't." I sputtered, blushing probably.

He sat down next to me and called for the bar tender.

"I'll get red wine, any works." Kirk said before turning to me.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

I took my glass of whatever liquid back, and stared at it for a moment before replying with,

"Y/n."

He nodded.

"Y/n, huh? That's a pretty name. Suits you."

I blushed and smiled.

"Thank you."

Kirk's wine came over, and the bartender brought the bottle.

"Hey man, this bottles on me, I'm a huge fan of your work and your band!" The guy said, seemingly excited to see Kirk.

"Thanks man, but I'll pay for it, no worries."

"Hey, while you're, you know, doing your job, can you get me the right drink?" I asked, obvious sarcasm in my tone.

"Oh, yes, of course!" And the bartender scurried away.

"What do you mean 'get the right drink'?" Kirk asked me, his eyebrow raised.

"I asked for a Jack earlier and he gave me whatever this is, but it's not Jack. And when I asked him, he's like, 'well you're a girl, so I can't give a Jack Daniel's to a girl!' Like, what the fucks that supposed to mean?" I sighed.

"Oh." Kirk merely said, staring at his wine glass.

The bartender came back with a bottle of Jack Daniel's, finally, and slid it over to me.

"Here you are!" He said.

"You can take both these back, we're leaving." Kirk stood up, glancing at me.