Metallica Smut - Tumblr Posts

Unwind Me ⋅☆⋅ Kirk Hammett (18+)

The brazen sounds of cheers and drunken laughter ring out and dance their way backstage in the naturally dimming light, the joyous sounds causing you to grin to yourself and shake your head in amusement as you push a speaker even further down the now packed and narrow hallway. A man with a slightly sick looking grimace etched on his face stumbles his way out of a nearby dressing room and right towards you, and you quickly jump out of the way, your right shoulder bumping into and against an array of sharp boxes behind you amid your haste. He makes it to the bathroom just in time and you sigh in relief, before hunching forward and pressing your weight back onto the heavy machinery in front of you, willing yourself to ignore the pulsating ache emanating from the soon-to-be bruised skin underneath your itchy and sweat-clad crew shirt.

You twist your wrist and momentarily close your eyes in gratitude as you feel an elastic roll itself down your clothed forearm and rest upon your kickstarting and erratic pulse point, feeling eager to tie your hair up once you finish up the task of getting the rest of the equipment together and cased out. The earlier crew did their best within their scheduled time slot, but even they couldn't finish up the job in that time. Guitars and other smaller instruments leisured haphazardly against everything from coolers and stairwells, and to the edge of the stage the boys had just recently performed on, and you force your eyes to reopen as you tiredly make your way over to the towering and newly organized rows of the Marshall and Hiwatt speakers, near to the end of the hall.

Squatting down to untangle and release the secured latch of the strap encircled around the equipment you just carted over, you slowly raise your head as you finally come to acknowledge a familiar set of shoes paused and waiting only a few feet away from you in your peripheral vision.

A frenzied and fast travelling flush makes its way up to your cheekbones and down your neck before you even attempt to make eye contact with the man standing to the side of you, and you let out a shaky exhale as wide brown eyes peer back down at you in earnest once you do.

"Kirk," you breathe, your eyes glancing over with mild interest as they take in the clenching of his fingers around his flimsy cup after you say his name in greeting. You finish up removing the safety strap and stand before you could allow yourself to put too much thought into his reaction, hurriedly pushing it to the back of your mind as you try to hide your blush in the slightly frizzy curtaining of your hair. "Enjoying the new year so far?" you try to casually ask him, hoping you don't sound as nearly affected as you feel from just by having him nearby.

The lead guitarist nods absentmindedly as his eyes rake themselves over your fatigued figure, his plush and full lips lifting up to relax in a soft smile as he leans forward to rest his drink on the nearest ledge closest to him. "Let me." He offers kindly, already moving forward and gently guiding you back with a hand on your hip before you could even verbalize a protest. Your already unstable breath stutters in your chest as the rough patches of his palm blazes heat against your dampened flesh, the added weight of his large hand making the reddened hue of your cheeks darken even more.

Kirk's thumb spreads out to caress the indented skin of the beginning of your hipbone, before leaving entirely as he goes to lift the piece of equipment on top of the set with ease. You quietly watch as he casually walks over and places the speaker on top of another, before returning over to your side to grasp onto an amp. You go to reach down to secure a zip tie around its long cord to try and be helpful, before stopping midway and letting out a strained cry as the skin around your bruising shoulder painfully constricts and stretches. Kirk's eyes widen at the sound, and a multitude of other pairs zero in to stare at you as you clench yours shut. Your uninjured shoulder jumps up as a hand encases itself around it, before relaxing as the coolness of a familiar ring grazes against the bare part of your lower neck.

"Are you alright, babe? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" Kirk asks you quietly, the hand on you guiding you to stand behind him for a bit more privacy and a few more steps away from the tipsy bystanders. You go to shake your head and falsely reassure him that you're fine, before opening up your eyes and looking into his worried ones. You instead nod in defeat and lightly rest some of your weight on him, your left hand coming up to gesture toward your right shoulder.

"I thought some guy was going to spew on me and the cart, so I rushed to the side and jabbed myself on a few sharp boxes." Kirk lets out a soft sound of sympathy, his usually rough and quick hands delicately rubbing small circles in your tense skin and muscles to hopefully help you relax. "Will you let me take you to one of the backrooms and get you some ice? Maybe check you out a little bit better?"

"But the equipment," You start before trailing off weakly, peering up into his eyes with furrowed and pinched brows. Your resolve quickly titters off into little to nothing as he continues to dote on you and caress your skin, his intense gaze on you keeping you feeling warm. "You've already been here and on the clock for over twelve hours; the rest of your coworkers are either already at their hotel or with the other guys getting shitfaced, and we've still got another two days before we have to get everything cleared out and back on the road." Kirk tilts your chin up and holds you in place as he takes another step forward and closer to you, your chests almost pressed together and becoming one.

"How about you focus on yourself for once and let someone take care of you. Let me take care of you." His tone of voice being soft yet leaving no room for any further resistance or questioning, as his fingertip lightly taps itself on the cleft of your chin. The tips of your scuffed up shoes brush against his as you subconsciously and unknowingly lean forward in his soft grip, your eyelids feeling heavier and weighed down as his comforting scent wafts over to you through the close proximity. Kirk raises an eyebrow after a few heavy moments of you not answering him, a pleased grin painting itself on his handsome features as you quietly agree and allow him to slide his hand down your arm and gently tug you forward.

Alcohol-laden murmurs and hushed whispers advance themselves down the chilled hallway and into the open and overpopulated area, but neither one of you seem to care as the two of you slowly become well acquainted with the feeling of each other's hands as you descend away. And as Kirk flicks on a light switch and makes his way over to the mini fridge attached to the back wall of the room and silently beckons you over, the clock hits one.

⭒

You let out a faint sigh of relief as you feel Kirk press a towel filled with crushed up ice against the slightly swollen and puffy skin of your shoulder, the strap of your bra sliding down as you lean back into the cold compress and his stable hold. The musician sitting almost flushed against your back, watches with rapt attention as the white lace dances itself down your goosebump ridden extremity and stops to rest in the curved divot of your inner elbow.

"Thank you for taking care of me and making sure I was alright. I probably would have just ended up trying to ignore the pain and getting as much as I could get done within the last two hours of my shift." You allow a small smile to grace your face as you hear him grunt out a sound of displeasure at your words, a shiver running through your upper half as a droplet of the melting ice runs its way down the side of your back. An audible gasp tears through you as you feel the sensation of Kirk's calloused fingertip swipe it away, before continuously making its way down to the base of your spine.

"You're still so tense," Kirk murmurs, his free hand pressing its thumb and index fingers into the dimples adorning the skin of your bottom back. He pauses and halts his movements as a saddened thought invades its way into his mind. "You aren't uncomfortable with me, are you?"

You immediately shake your head no, an unsettling twinge basing itself in your gut as your nonverbal attempt of reassurance doesn't get a response or reaction back from him. As carefully as you can without creating any more physical discomfort for yourself, you twist around to face him. Kirk's hands raise to stop you from moving once he sets the towel off to the side, but you gently brush his hands down to rest in his lap.

"You don't make me uncomfortable," You try to comfort him, the small smile on your face sliding off as you take in the wary and cautious look on his. You anxiously bring your hands together on your leg and wring them together, before muttering out your next words. "You make me nervous." Kirk's facial expression softens as he watches you avert your eyes and look elsewhere, unable to stop himself from reaching out to set his hands on top of yours.

"Talk to me, baby. I can't help you out if you won't let me know what's going on or bothering you." You nod uneasily, untensing your hands so he can entangle his fingers in yours and place them on the small space in between you.

"You don't make me uncomfortable, Kirk. You make me nervous. Every time you reach out to me and ask if I need help, I get all nervous as hell and make a damn fool out of myself. I don't think I've dropped so many amp boxes in my entire life, compared to the handful I have here with you guy in this past year," You playfully try to tug your hands away from his, the flush reappearing on your cheeks as his kisses the back of one of yours in a silent apology. "You haven't done anything wrong. The complete opposite, actually."

Your eyes snap back to his as he entirely lets go of your hands and carefully rearranges your legs to wrap them around him, your jean clad calves now pressed firmly against the back of his middle and the leg of the cushioned furniture, as he tugs you toward him. You rest your hands on his chest and lightly clutch onto the worn-out fabric as his hands find purchase on your waist.

"And what if I felt the same way about you?" He asks, his eyes filling with mirth as he watches yours widen in surprise, his glancing down to your now gaping lips as you part them in shock. "What if I told you that I've broken more guitar string that I should have been allowed to get away with, because I was too busy looking at you? Watching you run around and help everybody, exhausting yourself every single day on this tour and wanting to reach out and help you unwind? What if I told you that I set up this entire New Years after party, so that I could finally find enough courage to come over and tell you about how I felt myself?"

You let out a disbelieving huff of laughter, the shaking of your head causing your hair to cling to the sides of your face. "There's no way."

"Oh yeah, because the boys would never be alright with me inviting the roadies, or anyone else they happen to find attractive enough along to hang back with them and drink some alcohol after a concert." You stop laughing at that, your hands unclenching the fabric of his shirt and instead reaching up to rest against his shoulders, as he looks down at you with conviction.

"I've been gone for you for the past few months, and the only reason why I haven't had enough guts to say anything sooner is because you're so kind with everyone, and I wasn't able to tell if it was any different with me." His slightly shaking hands come up to grasp onto your chin once again, this time tugging you forward to rest your forehead against his.

"You are the most beautiful, hardworking, kind and patient woman I've ever met, and you knock me straight on my ass with just a single look, every single time and with no effort." You blink back tears and send him a tremor of a nervous smile, your heart beating insurmountably fast in your chest.

"And you are the most handsome, hardworking, down to earth, kickass lead guitarist I have ever had the honor of working with." Kirk lets out a shuttered bout of laughter as you lightly brush your lips against his, his grip on your chin losing strength and wavering as you whisper against him.

"Unwind me, then."

⭒

A giggle filters itself out from in between your kiss swollen lips as your legs are raised and placed onto Kirk's lap, you semi helpfully lifting your lower half from underneath you as he tugs down on the seemingly skintight fabric.

"Why in the absolute fucking world are your pants so tight for?" He huffs out, faux annoyance painted on his features before his expression smooths out and turns into an affectionate smile, the sound of your joy causing his heart to feel like it's beating out of his chest. The man in front of you lets out a cheer once he's able to tug them down and off from around your ankles, and your laughter settles into a gasp as his lips begin to trail up your bare legs.

Stubble roughly etches its own temporary indentation into your skin as he sucks and bites marks into your trembling limbs, and you can feel his grin widen against you the closer he gets to your clothed and wet sex. Heat pillows in your groin and a whine builds up in your throat as he stops to create another hickey on your inner thigh, this time only a few inches away from where you truly wanted him to be, his hands holding your stomach down in place as you squirm impatiently.

"Please, I need you." Kirk's eyes close in euphoria at the unsteady tone in your voice, his head raising and mouth removing itself from your purpling skin to dart up towards your pussy, his tongue peeking out to tease you through the cotton. Groaning as your slick pearls out through the fabric and envelops his tastebuds, Kirk lolls his appendage out to run it along your clothed folds, his spit darkening the fabric and causing it to cling to your swollen and pulsating folds.

"Fuck, if I could take a picture of you, I would." He whispers out, his eyes transfixed on the way you push against his hold in desperation, before he mercifully pulls your underwear down and immediately laps at your soaked clit. The cry that you weep lashes itself around the room and bleeds its way underneath the paper-thin door, and you buck against his dripping mouth as one of his hands reach down to bundle up the undergarment and shove it into his back pocket for safe keeping.

Kirk twists his tongue inside of your folds in a figure 8, causing your eyes to roll back in your head and your ankles to cross themselves behind his head, the action silently pleading for him not to pull back or tease. You let out a damn near scream once a single digit is thrusted its way inside of you and easily finds your spongelike spot, your eyes stinging from the dual sensation, it almost feeling like overstimulation even though you haven't orgasmed yet.

Your hand releases itself from around the pillow he carefully placed behind you to protect your injured shoulder, it easily finding purchase in his curly and wild locks as his tongue enters your entrance alongside his finger, his nose nudging against your clit and giving you the perfect amount of friction. Kirk harshly moans out against you as you tangle your fingers in his mane and yank, a second finger sliding inside of you and roughly nudging against your g-spot with relentless revenge. The combination of his tongue and two fingers inside of you and his moans reverberating over your sensitive sex brings you to your first climax, your legs clamping their way around his head and forcing him to stay in place as his mouth and hand continue to pleasure you without stopping.

You sob out his name and writhe in place as he continues to go down on you, only slowing down and licking you clean once he looks up to see large tear stains matting themselves on your cheeks.

"Want you." You brokenly whisper, your legs slowly unwinding from around him and allowing him to lean back. A fresh wave of slick pulses out of you as you take in his drunken expression, your cum covering his chin and jaw and nearly dripping down his neck. You carefully sit up before tugging his shirt over his head and bringing him up to your level, your tongue darting out to taste yourself on his sweat covered skin. Kirk pants out against you before lightly wrapping a hand around your throat to tug you into an opened mouth and messy kiss. You moan into him as the taste of your musk finds its way to you as he licks and teases you, and he grunts as your hand slides down to his covered bulge, your fingers pulsing around his generous length in a teasing manner.

"Baby, please don't." He pleads, squeezing his eyes shut as his balls tighten and raise, heat rushing to his groin and causing his dick to jerk in your grip. You lick your lips in hunger as you feel him pulsate against you, before slightly raising your hand and beginning to unbutton his jeans.

"You don't have to." He tries to assure you, although his hips buck upward to help you yank his jeans and briefs down all at once. "Want to feel you inside of me." You murmur out against his lips, drinking in his whimpers as you reach down to gather some of your wetness to use it as a lubricant to slide your hand down his red and angry shaft.

"Yeah? You can have whatever you'd like, baby. Use me." He moans as you gently push him back to lie down on the couch beneath the two of you, his hands coming up to steady you as you shuffle on top of him and get into a comfortable squatting position.

You gasp loudly as you feel the tip of his dick nudge and twitch against your still oversensitive clit as you ready yourself, and you both let out resounding and punched out sighs of relief as you slowly lower yourself onto his accommodating and girthy length.

"Happy New Years, baby." Kirk shakily jokes from beneath you, before gripping onto your hips to guide you up and down his weeping cock, your soaked and clenching walls welcoming him in every single time.

Happy New Years, indeed.

Ride The Lightning ⚡︎ Lars Ulrich (18+)

Blowing a handful of stray hairs out of your face as you finally make it to the top of the seemingly never-ending stairs, your already depleting good mood completely plummets as soon as you take in the smug look on the drummer's face waiting for you. Your feet falter as soon as he fully comes into view, and your eyes immediately pick up on the fact that he's alone for once. Lars pushes himself up into a fully standing position, his hands in his back pockets to try and conserve heat in the concerningly cold complex's hallway. Thundered light bolts through and graciously gifts the two of you temporary brightness every few seconds, the sun now long gone as grey hues of spattered clouds take over the sky above the state of California.

"Got caught up in the rain on the way over here, didn't you?" He cockily asks, his accent licking at the words and making them sound more thickened and condensed. "Let me in, would you? Your brother's holding a guitar for us, and we need it for the rehearsal set we have tonight." His carefree and dismissive tone gives off no signs of gratitude to the fact that you had just cancelled your plans to run over here and let him in as soon as you got the phone call from your older brother.

You rapidly blink in disbelief as the Dane sarcastically steps aside for you, his left hand impatiently ushering you forward as you drip and create a small puddle in the outdated carpet underneath you. Lips pursing as you reach into your soaked pocket for your duplicated set of keys to the apartment, you narrow your eyes before flicking your head towards the overconfident musician to your right. An indignant sound strangles its way out of his throat as rainwater flies and lands on his flushed cheeks and shocked expression, and you successfully unlock the front door with a hidden and triumphant smile on your lips.

"Doing your daily running around for the rest of the band?" You ask in an innocent voice, instinctively walking toward the bathroom as you hear the front door being kicked closed and shut, the urge to dry off stronger than the want to continue to banter. "No, I'm simply doing a favor. You know, a thing you do for friends and for people who actually like and care about you. Ever heard of the term?" The taunting and condescending tone in his voice makes you falter for a moment, before you grasp onto a towel and firmly shut the cupboard with an audible and resounding click.

"Fuck this." You mumble, before stalking your way back out to the living room area and going up close to the musician, not stopping until your feet are only an inch apart. Lars pauses mid-faux performance with the new and sleek white electric guitar in his hands, his earlier cocky expression turning cautious as he looks at the neutral and resentful one on yours. Before he can make another asinine comment or tease you any further, your arm straightens out with a sudden strike. The rough cotton comes in contact with his pale and freckled skin and leaves a few inches of rugburn in its wake. The drummer lets out a shocked cry, before placing the guitar down to reach out and wrap his hand around your closest wrist. Lars lets out a grunt as you roughly shove at him to let you go, before he finds momentum and places you flush against the wall behind the two of you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He exclaims, his pupils widened and a hazy mess, while you wince from the pressure engulfing your damp and reddening skin. "You're what's wrong, you asshole," you seethe, your head pushing itself off of the wall to peer forward into his green eyes, the button of your nose brushing the bridge of his. "I've done nothing but be nice to you and your band for the last year, while you've bought and exchanged instruments and tech gear with my brother, and you've been nothing less than a dick to me this entire time. So, what the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Upset a girl can play the drums better than you can, while she's taller than you too?"

Lars clicks his tongue and lets out a humorless laugh, his hand retreating away from your wrist as he takes a step back and looks away from you. You move forward, the adrenaline and frustration in you pivoting you to follow him over to the drum set near the windows facing the front of the building. "Answer me." You urge, your eyes taking in his tense form as he untangles and wraps his fingers in the skin tape your brother left behind for him. Lars glances up at you with a halfhearted glare, before letting out a slow breath and snapping the container of the adhesive shut.

"It's not my fault you don't know how to take a joke," he starts, raising an eyebrow at you as you let out a dumbfounded and disbelieving scoff. "You just seem overly sensitive, and I get bored sometimes, is all." Your eyes zero in on him, and you tilt your head downward to watch him as he sits on the chair near his main instrument. His left hand trembles as he undoes the headband keeping his drumsticks together, and you come to a sudden realization as you observe his unsteadiness. He wasn't jealous or hateful or conniving. He was nervous.

You bite your lip as a thought runs through your mind, and a small hum of amusement exits you before you can help it. Lars' head snaps up at the sound. "What?"

"You said James was going to be coming over tomorrow night to finalize the payment, right?" The drummer nods at you before twisting the wooden sticks in between his taped-up fingers, the absentminded movements almost capturing the entirety of your attention. "I'm just wondering why you came over today, is all. Since James is the one I get along with best, and I'm sure it's the same for him too." Satisfaction warms your gut as you watch his jaw click and strain in place, the muscle contraction making a small chill run itself down your cloth-clad spine.

"So, you want him here instead of me, is what you're saying." He states, his fingers halting all movement and the chair underneath him screeching in protest as he pushes the chair back with full-body force. You wince at the sound and go to open your mouth to reassure him, but falter as he throws down the drumsticks and reaches over the set to grasp ahold at your still wet and dripping t-shirt.

"What," you start to ask, before gasping out loud as he tugs you forward, your stomach pressing up against a cymbal for purchase and your feet almost lifting from the ground. You fluster as he leans up and glares into your eyes, his forehead brushing yours from the closeness and causing your heart rate to accelerate. "Do you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I enjoy getting that reaction out of you, because I'm the only one who can? Today's one of the only morning's we have off before tour preparation, and I'm stuck in this overcrowded apartment, with a girl so dense she can't even tell when someone is trying to flirt with her and get her fucking attention."

You gape as he looks at you earnestly, before setting his face and letting you go. You reach out to encircle your hand around his wrist instead and go to plead as you watch his eyes dim in what seems to be defeat. "Can you please continue? Because I've gone from months of thinking you can't stand being in the same room as me, to you suddenly admitting to actively reaching out on your own to be here with me today. My head is spinning." Lars' expression softens and he twists his wrist to carefully guide you around the drum set, and onto the chair he carelessly shoved away to the side earlier. You let out a trembling breath as he squats down to level with you, the muscles in his thighs and biceps straining from the confining movement.

"When I first met you, I thought you were beautiful, and the guys caught on to my attraction to you immediately. The only way I could get them off of my back was to join in on the teasing the other guys would give you. I don't know when the teasing turned into us insulting each other and getting under each other's skin, but it wasn't my intention to ever hurt your feelings or get you as upset as I did today," he murmurs, his eyes averting yours to look down and caress at the slight tears in the knees of your pants. "I feel like a major dick right now, and I'm sorry."

You furrow your brows as you take in his downtrodden expression, before reaching out to tilt his chin up and make him look at you. "Before you turned into the biggest asshole I've ever met, I thought you were attractive too. So much that my brother started getting on my ass and told me to make a move. But before I could, your insults started to dig in far too deep and I started to come after you and rebut even harder. I know I've hurt and belittled you at times as well, and for that I'm truly sorry." Your free hand's fingers absentmindedly wrap themselves in the middle of his long hair and gently massage his scalp while you apologize, the satisfaction warming your gut earlier coming back full force as you watch his eyes almost slip to a close and his pink lips begin to open in barely hidden bliss.

"You like that?" You whisper out in the cool apartment air, and a soft gasp expels itself from your chest as the fingertips caressing your kneecaps slide up to your thigh and grip the flesh. Lars looks into your eyes and nods, a weighted sigh pillowing out of him as your fingers lightly twist in his mane and tug. Lightning strikes out and nearly makes contact with the windows nearest to the two of you, the bolts of light making the flush on the man in front of you even more apparent during the brief highlight.

"You said you wanted my attention earlier, right?" You ask, your voice barely above a slight tremor of an exhale and nearly incoherent. Lars nods against the grip in his hair and on his chin, and his eyes widen as you tug him forward, his hands once gripping your thighs now grasping onto your waist to steady himself as you bring him forward.

"Come and get it, then." You shutter out, barely able to finish your sentence before his grip turns bruising and his lips ascend on yours.

⚡︎

Warm puffs of heated breath make their way down your bare and goosebump-ridden chest as you lean against the drum set behind you, your lips spread open wide in a permanent gape as the Dane sucks and licks marks into your skin. The tip of a tongue breaches out between kiss chapped lips to tease the top of your left, swollen nipple, and your hips pulse up against the firm and unyielding hands holding you down in place.

The teasing tongue wraps itself around your areola and gently tugs with a light gnarr of teeth, and you cry out at the oversensitivity, your hands reaching down to lightly tap on the shoulders of the man currently trying to taste every inch and centimeter of you.

Lars lifts his head from your chest and removes his mouth from you with a reverberating pop, you blushing as the sound echoes around the room and him sporting a wolfish grin at your reaction. The warm and persistent press of his erection on your leg makes the slick in between your thighs nearly double in amount as you acknowledge the weight of it, and you whine out as your clothed sex pulsates against the soaked material of your uncomfortable bottom clothing. Before you could beg him to move on, he sends you a gentle smile and wetly makes his way down to your navel, your stomach involuntarily sucking in as his appendage makes its way into your belly button.

You let out a light laugh at the ticklish sensation, and you feel him smile against your heating up flesh, the hands holding you down slowly rubbing circles in the bruising skin of your hips. You close your eyes and lick moisture back to your reddened pout as you feel him slide even further down and make it to the beginning of your jeans within a few heat filled seconds.

"Where else do you want me to taste you, angel?" Lars asks you, his face holding on to an innocent expression as one of his hands trail down from your side and its thumb digs into your clothed clit. The musician looks at you with faux confusion as you cry out, his tongue coming to peek out in barely hidden hunger as your chest heaves and your arms give out underneath you. Wooden drumsticks falter and tumble down to the floor, the sound going unnoticed as Lars helps you lift your hips from the chair beneath you and tugs your pants and underwear down in one haste filled yank. You immediately shy away as your overheated and weeping pussy is exposed to the awe looking man kneeling in between your legs, and you freeze in place as he lets out a tsking sound.

"I asked you a question, princess. Where else do you want me to taste you?" You let out an audible gasp as he situates himself and grazes his fingertips everywhere except for where you truly needed them.

"Want your tongue to taste my pussy, want your mouth on me again," you start shakily, letting out a moan as you watch his green eyes darken at your next words. "On your pussy." Lars temporarily closes his eyes and twitches against your leg from your words, and you murmur out his name as his hand travels to cup your sex and tease at it with his calloused palm. "So, if this is my pussy, then I don't have to wait for you to tell me where you want me to taste you, do I?" He asks you, waiting for your nod of consent and agreement, before thumbing your clit and bringing the digit up to his swollen lips. Lars watches as your breath visibly wanes at the sight of him eating your slick so casually, and he bites back a satisfied and predatory smile as he brings his spit slick thumb back down to rub it against your pulsating folds.

"So, I can eat this pussy, tease this pussy," he muses out slowly, watching you writhe in front of him with impatience and desperation. "Use this pussy whenever I'd like?" You nod with fervor and let out a cry of relief as he slowly teases two fingers inside of your tight heat, the relief almost palpable and bringing tears to your eyes. Lars lets out a coo as he watches your fluttery lids begin to dampen with emotion, and he bends down to lightly press a kiss to your trembling thigh, before trailing his head and mouth up to where it truly wants and craves to be.

You melt and slug against the drum set behind you as the first rough swipe of his tongue meets with your enflamed clit, and your nails dig into his shoulders as his free hand pulls you down even further on the chair. Digits curve themselves in the wet heat inside of you, and your legs seize and tense against either side of his sides as he brushes against your sponge-like spot with finesse. Lars moans against your weeping and gushing sex as he feels your walls clench and constrict around his fingers, and his eyes nearly flutter shut as your taste and slick make their way into his inviting and overactive mouth and down his jaw.

The heat in your groin intensifies and a seeming coil snaps as you reach your first orgasm that night, a sob wrenching its way out of your sore and exhausted lungs as your cum accumulates and strings against his fingers and now sopping wet wrist. Lars' eyes open back up fully as he watches you gasp for air above him, and satisfaction fills him as he watches you involuntarily twitch from his ministrations. His cock impatiently twitches in the confines of his fitted jeans as he waits for you to come down from your oversensitive high, his fingers carefully removing themselves from inside of you and coming up to draw figure 8's in your shivering skin.

"You still with me?" He asks you, you letting out a stilted exhale and weakly nodding back a response, unable to catch your bearing enough to verbally respond back. A feeling of disappointment floods through you once you are finally able to lift your head and see that he's still erect in between your legs, his cockhead visibly pulsing against the material of his pants and staining the zipper of them with precum. Lars lets out a soft sound of confusion as your unsteady hands tug him up into a standing position, his hips bucking into the cupping palm of your hand as you rub against his hard dick.

You let out a hush as he begins to protest your movements as you shakily lift yourself off of the drum set from behind you and the ruined chair, and carefully make your way down onto your still trembling knees. "I just want a taste," you dazedly reassure him, your tongue still feeling heavy and slow from your orgasm just a few minutes ago. "Once I can fully process a single thought that isn't only about me wanting to suck your dick, I want you to fuck me against the drum set."

Lars' mouth gapes open and his eyelids flutter at the relief of you releasing his dick from the rough and damp confinement of his jeans, and a small stutter of a sound punches its way out from his chest as the rain pelts itself down on the windowpane outside. Your mouth begins to water once his length bounces itself against his groin once it's freed, and you waste no time before sliding your tongue out of your mouth and wrapping it around his flushed, red tip.

The Dane lets out a sharp gasp as you immediately slide down to the hilt once your tongue collects the copious amount of his pre-ejaculate, and his fingers run down to make purchase in your wet locks as you hungrily swallow around him.

"Holy shit." He shakily whispers out, the muscles in his stomach taut and tightening as you mouth fuck him for all he's worth, your tongue sliding out as you deepthroat him and moan at the feeling of the tip of his dick meeting with the back of your throat.

You lightly tap against his hips with one of your spit-soaked palms and let out a positive sounding hum, your eyes fluttering shut and eyelashes collecting stray and heavy tears once he begins to fuck your mouth and throat. Calloused fingers tear their way through the strands of your hair as his hips make audible contact with your chin, going so far into your throat that the tip of your tongue makes contact with his tightening and raising ballsack.

Lars has to force himself to slowly slide out of the tight heat of your mouth and cup the base of his dick before he orgasms, the tip of his cock still weeping out a few drops of pre-release as he takes in your disheveled look and state. Thick tear stains run themselves down your cheeks and bubbled spit collects itself in a messy spread along your chin, and you lightly rub at the hood of your sex as your arousal drips down onto the wooden floorboards beneath the two of you.

"God, you're such a fucking dream." Lars grunts out, his fingers slowly removing themselves from your hair and bending down to wrap his shaky palms around the slick sides of your waist. You let out a pleased sound as you're lifted up with ease and planted back onto your feet, the sound soon turning into a gasp as you're steadily maneuvered and bent over the drum set, the chair you released on earlier getting shoved to the side once again.

The drummer lets out a hum of approval as he watches you obediently spread your legs wide and fight your inner shyness, the slick running down your thighs enticing him even further as he nearly mounts himself over you. "What'd you say about me fucking you against my drum set earlier, again?" He casually asks you, you beginning to feel small in this position as he towers over you, a blush fighting its way up to your messy cheeks as you hear and feel him slicking himself up with your release and wetness.

You can only whisper and beg out a please, before his length slides into you with an experienced and hearty thrust, his tip hitting your g-spot like it was made for you and this moment entirely. Lightning strikes out again and paints itself white against the two of you, as you sob and hold onto a cymbal as you're pounding into from behind.

Slick and disgustingly messy sounds create a cacophony in the small apartment, combined with your strangled and gasped out moans of pleasure, and you let out a silent scream as the man behind you slides a hand down your front and pinches at your clit, his mouth only releasing itself from your hickey-ridden shoulder to playfully muse out.

"Knew you'd sound better screaming for me, rather than at me." You're unable to rebut back as your second orgasm takes over and your release soaks the front of his still thrusting thighs. A hand delicately wraps itself around your throat as he continues to fuck up into you with reckless abandon. You let out silent gasps of pleasure and overstimulation as he uses you against his set, the partial deprivation of air making you feel deliciously lightheaded. Lars moans out against your ruined skin and pulses himself inside of you as he fills you to the brim, the sensitive skin of the tops of your thighs beginning to sting from his once seemingly never-ending thrusts.

Thick globs of cum run their way down your weakened legs as he slowly removes himself from inside of you and gently turns you around, your body relaxing in his embrace as he brings you forward and into a spit coated kiss.

"You doing alright? I was a little bit rough with you." Lars' eyes run their way down your exhausted and beat figure, and you nod against him with the rest of the energy you've got left in you, before slumping forward and closing your eyes.

"How about we both get in the shower, and then come back out and clean up this mess?" You tiredly open your eyes and let out a shocked and weak bout of laughter as you look down at the floor beneath you. A thick consistency of your combined releases drip themselves down into a puddle on the floor from the drum set and the chair is tumbled over and lying down on its side, the curtain closest to it now on the floor and tangled around a leg of it. If you look close enough, you can still see the shine of your cum on the sitting area of the chair. You quickly blush and glance away as your feet are removed from the ground once again as he lifts you up. And as you tilt your head back and allow yourself to be carried away and toward the bathroom you stormed out of earlier, you let a small smile grace your face as lightning resounds and vibrates the floorboards beneath the two of you.

You were glad he made his way over to your brother's apartment on his own, and eventually to you, and into you.

After Afterparty ࿐ James Hetfield (18+)

Laughter bellows out of your boyfriend as you tipsily stumble forward and toward your shared hotel room for the night in haste, your right hand clumsily digging inside of your dress's hidden pocket for the key card, as alcohol laced lips lazily make their way to your neck. The sounds of the other band members and their friends and lovers never ending partying and celebrating only a few feet away, seem to dissolve and disappear as soon as James presses himself flush against your back, the comforting smell of his natural musk and whiskey emanating off of him becoming the only thing you can truly focus on as you now absentmindedly continue to search.

A flush makes its way up to your cheeks and down your chest as you successfully locate the card, and your eyes almost flutter shut as large hands come up to securely wrap themselves around your middle. A calloused and rough hand presses itself into your stomach, and you fully relax against the comforting and welcomed, added weight.

"Any reason why you're rushing us into the room we have all night, when the party's still going on with the rest of our friends?" James asks you, amused, his bottom lip distractingly caressing the sensitive skin right underneath your left earlobe. You let out a teasingly quiet hum instead of verbally answering, and grin to yourself as you feel him exhale a hearty huff of a breath against the nape of your neck in retaliation. Before he could ask any more questions, you quickly find your bearings and slide the key into its receiver and push the door open, your breath hitching in your chest as you take in the shocked silence coming from behind you.

"I was thinking," you begin, licking your lips nervously as you feel James' arms tighten around you to bring you in impossibly closer, as if he was reminding himself that you're still there and with him. "That if you can't come home with me just yet, then I'll bring a little bit of home to you."

Your eyes drift over the room and a content smile lifts your lips as you take in the handful of framed photos and memorabilia you sneakily brought with you; the jacket James lent to you on your first date strewn across the loveseat near the dresser and standing out against the all-white theme of the room. The set of matching gold bands of promise rings resting on the bedside table, mimicking the time when James surprised you the morning of your two-year anniversary. The stapled together concert tickets of your favorite band, in memory of the night he first told you he loved you and promised you forever. The scuffed up and discolored set of keys belonging to your first shared apartment, standing up proudly against the photo of you two in your now current and co-owned dream house.

You tilt your head up to press a comforting kiss against the scruff of facial hair on his chin and gently untangle his hands from you as you take a step further into the room, airy laughter filtering through your lips as you're instantly tugged back into his personal space. James rests his head on top of yours and lowers his hands down to stroke his palms against the soft skin of the insides of your wrists.

"This is amazing." James whispers, his eyes watering as he stares at the photo your friends took of the two of you on your first date together. You turn yourself around to face him and coo as you watch a stray tear slide down his beautiful, acne scarred and dimpled cheek. You lift yourself to the tips of your toes and raise a hand to use your thumb to gently brush it away, before delicately grasping onto his chin and guiding him down to your height and line of view. James looks down at you adoringly as you send him a soft smile, his own lips lifting up from the sight of yours alone.

You take in the look of genuine exhaustion on his face, the alcohol and your presence being calming enough for him to fully wind down after the three-hour concert and afterparty, and you silently tilt your head toward the bathroom. The few drinks coursing themselves through you make you feel abnormally bold and confident, and you loosely pluck at your boyfriend's sweat clad shirt.

"Take a shower with me?" You ask, your dress beginning to feel heavy and too over the top as the room's door firmly shuts and locks itself behind the two of you. James nods against your hold and lowers his head down to give you a whiskey flavored and passionate, thankful kiss, his practiced fingers instinctively reaching behind you to unclasp the seam on your dress and pull the zipper down with finesse.

"Anywhere you want to go, I'm coming with you." He responds, answers, promises. You carefully step out of the dress once James bends down to collect it, and you tug his shirt over his head as he guides you backwards, his hands reaching down to help you unbuckle his belt, as yours are unsteady. Your eyes darken as you stare down at his now bare skin, the happy trail of dirty blonde hair on his lower stomach becoming fully exposed as he pulls his boxers down. Your eyes quickly zero in on his biceps contracting from the movement, and you bring your bottom lip into your mouth, imagining yours as his. Heat begins to coil and tighten in your groin, and you feel a small surge of a pulsation make its way down to your clit.

James sucks in a deep breath once he straightens up and absorbs in the sight of you. Nipples hardening from the cool air and hair askew from the earlier wind and dancing, your doe eyes wide and pupils dilated, with a beautiful flush taking over the upper half of your body. James feels his cock begin to harden and fill, and he lets out a moan filled with pleasure just by looking at you. He quickly kicks his underwear to the side and reaches an arm out to touch you, craving the contact of your skin. Your eyelids flutter once his thick and long fingers entangle themselves into the stray baby hairs lying on the nape of your neck, and your upper half leans forward to arch into his hold right away.

"Are you still too drunk?" He asks you, worry filling his tone, even in his highly aroused state. You hastily shake your head no and rest your lower spine on the tiled wall behind you, the coldness of it making you jolt in shock and helping you sober up. Gasping as your hardened buds brush against your boyfriend's firm and muscled chest, you suddenly decide you were now wide awake and completely clearheaded, and ready to take whatever he was willing to give you.

James closes his eyes with a grunt as he feels your stomach press against his aching and pulsating dick as you purposefully brush up against him, and his fingers tighten in your mane, causing you to gasp out in the quiet bathroom and squeeze your legs shut.

"Please, I want you." You plead, your eyes blearily looking up into his as he holds you in place, his own eyes heady and weighed down with pure, adulterated lust.

"Yeah? Where do you want me, baby?" James asks you huskily, using his grip in your hair to guide you toward the see through and ceiling high, glass walls and doors of the shower. You place your hands on the door in front of you and breathe shakily against it as he removes his grip from your hair and kneels down next to your backside. Your breath fogs the glass as you feel his teeth teasingly tug your cotton underwear down your now trembling thighs, and your hips jump as he places a peck on the backs of each of your knees.

"I want you everywhere, want to feel you even after I leave." You whisper, your heart unevenly pounding in your chest as his hands dance on your skin as he stands back up. James places a gentle kiss on your shoulder and guides you back up straight, before turning you around and lifting you up. You both let out harsh pants as his cockhead brushes against your clit from the movement, and he dazedly nods, his head swimming as your legs wrap around his waist and bring his hips even closer to yours.

You encircle your arms around his broad shoulders and use the hold as leverage as you carefully lift yourself up, a moaning tearing itself through your chest as his shaft slides in between your slick and swollen folds. James lets out a curse and unwraps an arm from around you to slam one of the shower's doors open.

"Don't make me wait," you murmur against his lips shakily, your arousal beginning to bead and drip onto the tiled floor as your boyfriend hastily carries you into the compartment.

You don't even flinch as your back makes contact with the freezing cold wall, or when the water cascades down the two of you, a handful of degrees too low. Ravenous hands run their way down the both of your bodies, and the only sounds that emanate through the entire enclosed space of the hotel room are pants, whispered pleads of names, and thick droplets of water running themselves down heated and sumptuous skin.

James licks into your mouth like a starving man, craving your taste and your touch, just like you with his. You cry out his name and beg for him to touch you as his hand teasingly makes its way down your front, only stopping centimeters away from your throbbing sex each time your hips buck into his touch. Tears sting your eyes and merge into the water pouring over the two of you, and James finally relents once he sees the desperation painting itself all over your features, your begging and tears making his ballsack throb and raise with gut wrenching pleasure.

And who the hell was he to ever tell you no?

࿐

You grip onto James' soaked locks as he surges his tongue inside of your entrance, two fingers already knuckle deep inside of you and curving up to dig into your sponge-like and pleasure filled spot with ease. Your legs spasm around his shoulders and you cry out shakily as he relentlessly fucks you with his fingers and tongue, his cock hot and heavy on the shower's floor and weeping precum.

James moans against you and grins almost sadistically to himself as you scream his name, your third orgasm ripping its way out of you and causing your groin to tighten with overstimulation, your releases being back-to-back and with no breaks in between.

"Please," you sob out, your legs seizing against his scratch covered back and your arms falling limp to your sides. "No more."

James slowly removes himself from you once he laps up the entirety of your arousal and licks you clean, and you torridly blush once he comes into view. Your cum is matted in his facial hair and his expression is smug, yet also fucked out and disheveled. His hair is soaked and fully curled, matted to his forehead and cheeks and causing his usually blue eyes to look almost obsidian. You wince as he removes your legs from his shoulders, and annoyance runs through you as he lets out a huff filled with amusement, his eyes staring down at your twitching and oversensitive cunt.

Your swollen and hickey bruised pussy pulses out another beading of arousal as you take in his still hungry expression, and you shakily make your way onto your knees, ignoring his new surprised and worried looks. You guide your perplexed boyfriend onto his back, before straddling him and reaching down to enclose your hand around his red and leaking dick. James moans and pants out harshly as you roughly squeeze his shaft and trace the fingertip of your thumb alongside the pulsating vein underneath his tip.

You watch in satisfaction as his mouth falls open into a perfect O as you bring his length up to your entrance and insert his tip into your tight heat, and you smoothly make your way down until your reddened asscheeks meet his trembling hips to the hilt. James stares up at you with wide and dazed eyes, seemingly unable to speak, and your smirk to yourself, feeling just as he had earlier.

"Where do you need me, baby?" You mockingly ask him, before steadily squatting down on top of him and riding him for all he's worth. You cry out in tandem as his satisfactory length hits all of your right spots, making sure to fully ride him so that every time your hips meet his, your clit rubs against his toned and heaving stomach. James stutters for breath underneath you, the now freezing cold water doing nothing to help the heat emanating from his body as you ride him until he's incoherent, his hips being held down by your hands and making him only something you can use for your own pleasure. James' eye shut at the thought, the thought making him gush precum and add even more slick to your already soaked, velvet-like walls. Your hips smack down onto his with tenacity, the sound echoing off of the walls and almost louder than the duet of the sounds of your guys' moans. You twist your hips and tremble mid-thrust, as his tip punches right against your cervix.

Mouth gaping open, you repeat the movement and sob out James' name as you orgasm once again, your vision flashing white and your pussy walls constricting against your boyfriend's dick in a death grip. James wraps his shaking arms around your shuddering figure and thrusts his hips up to meet yours, grunting as your walls accommodate and welcome him in, no matter how sensitive.

You can only hold onto his shoulders as he uses you for his own pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as he pounds and fucks into with reckless abandon. You look down into his eyes and nearly gasp as you find him looking back up at you.

"I love you, doll." He murmurs to you, the sentiment almost being drowned out by the sound of the water spurting itself out of the showerhead just a few feet away from you. You couldn't help but laugh at the inconvenient timing of his words, and he soon chuckles after you begin, his ending in a grunt as he finishes inside of you and pumps you full of his seed. Your pussy instinctively clenches around him to keep him close, not wanting to lose a single drop of his warm release.

You sigh out in relief and fully sit back down once you hear his bottom half make contact with the wet floor underneath the two of you.

"I love you too." You grin out, feeling high as you slump down against his chest and try to catch your breath. James places a delicate kiss to the crown of your head, before sliding a hand down to tap at your sore asscheek.

"Time to get up." He announces, causing your eyes to widen and for you to immediately shake your head. "James, I don't think I can walk after that."

Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow, biting back a cheeky grin and using his feet to slide you both up into a sitting position, the cool wall being a welcoming contrast to his now sore and burning back. "Shouldn't have ridden me stupid, then."

"Shouldn't have eaten me out until I nearly cried." You rebut, the building and broad smiles on your faces turning into shared, warm laughter, and you lean up to place a kiss on his bruising lips.

"I missed you," You whisper, the warm atmosphere turning soft as you peer up at him, your heart feeling full and joyous as you pick up on the devotion and love beaming from his eyes. James rubs soothing circles into your back and brings you up until your chest to chest and face to face with him. "I hope you liked my surprise."

"Sweetheart, I love anything that comes from you. And I promise to love anything and everything else that comes from you for the rest of our lives." You blink back tears, opening your mouth to say something sweet back, but pause as you feel him begin to harden inside of you once again. You look at him in disbelief and let out a giggle as he shrugs back at you with an innocent expression on his face.

"Sentimental shit gets your hard, huh?" You tease, letting out a squeal as he flips you over onto your stomach, and you place your hands on the fogged up and condensation covered shower glass wall as he situates himself on top of you in a mounting position.

"No, just you." You rest your head on your stretched out arm and shake your head in amusement, before crying out and curling your toes as he reaches that deep spot inside of you with his very first thrust, this time, with your mouth gaping open in a perfect O.

You two take full advantage of the hotel room, especially every inch of the bathroom, for the entirety of the rest of the night. And maybe for some of the morning, too.

Metallica Masterlist

⭒ James Hetfield ⭒ Requests (open)

Playtime (16+) ˚ (suggestive, bondage contemplation, ambiguous ending)

Play Me (18+) ˚ (phone sex, partial long-distance relationship, ambiguous ending)

Taste Test (18+) ⭒ (threesome with jason, vampire!au, ambiguous ending)

Summon Me (18+) It Will Come Back (18+) ˚ (demon!james, dorm sex, oral sex while standing/carrying receiver, fingering, minor blood play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, ambiguous/happy ending)

Deprivation (18+) ˚ (breath play, hotel sex, happy ending)

Sunny Side Up (18+) ˚ (morning sex, kitchen sex, creampie, happy ending)

Missus Eat Pavement (18+) Mister Meet Gravel (18+) ˚ (rockstar!james, smalltown!reader, oral sex, ambiguous ending)

Desert Hills Motel (18+) ˚ (traveling!james, smalltown!reader, hotel sex, happy ending)

Add One More ˚ (domestic fluff, partial angst, happy ending)

Leap Of Faith (18+) ˚ (angst, backstage sex, rough sex, happy ending)

After Afterparty (18+) ˚ (fluff, hotel sex, shower sex, long-distance relationship, happy ending)

Hell's Angel (18+) ˚ (hellsangels!au, angst, violence, sex on top of a desk, drug use, happy ending)

Backseat Paradise (18+) ˚ (car sex, light angst, fluff, partial long-distance relationship, happy ending)

Counterproductive Tendencies (multi-chapter, 18+) ˚ part one, part two, part three, part four (fluff, smut, angst, drug use, alcoholism, semi-public sex, oral sex) ⭒ ongoing series

Needy Little Fucking Thing (18+) ˚ (softdom!james, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, happy ending)

(Un)Still Shots (18+) ˚ (semi-public sex, sexually explicit photography, breath play, fingering, dry humping, happy ending)

A to Z (18+) ˚ (alphabetical sex list, oral sex, semi-public sex, fingering, bondage, phone sex, mutual masturbation, creampie, happy ending)

Backstage Birthday Pass (18+) ˚ (birthday surprise, fluff, smut, oral sex, fingering, dressing room sex, mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie, happy ending)

⭒ Kirk Hammett

A Nightmare On Elm Street ˚ (fluff, slightly suggestive, happy ending)

Scream (18+) ˚ (couch sex, rough sex, horror movie elements, happy ending)

Unwind Me (18+) ˚ (fluff, backstage sex, happy ending)

Room For More (18+) ˚ (threesome with jason, dominant!jason, submissive!kirk, backstage sex, oral sex, fluff, light angst, happy ending, polyamory)

A to Z (18+) ˚ (alphabetical sex list, oral sex, mutual masturbation, public sex, cumshot, bondage, sex tape, roleplay, voyeurism, happy ending)

Pages Deep (18+) ˚ (fluff, smut, mutual masturbation, fingering, partial edging, unprotected sex, creampie, happy ending)

⭒ Jason Newsted

Taste Test (18+) ⭒ (threesome with james, vampire!au, ambiguous ending)

Extended Cut (18+) ˚ (submissive!jason, studio sex, oral sex, ambiguous ending)

Room For More (18+) ˚ (threesome with kirk, dominant!jason, submissive!kirk, backstage sex, oral sex, fluff, light angst, happy ending, polyamory)

A to Z (18+) ˚ (alphabetical sex list, begging, bondage, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, sixty-nine, creampie, roleplaying, semi-public sex, voyeurism, vibrators, happy ending)

⭒ Lars Ulrich

Ride The Lightning (18+) ˚ (angst, rough sex, sex against drum set, happy ending)

Baseline (18+) ˚ (partial angst, fluff, oral sex, public sex in shower room, rough sex, creampie, happy ending)

⭒ Cliff Burton

You Make Loving Fun ˚ (domestic fluff, partial long-distance relationship, happy ending)

Follow My Lead ˚ (fluff, surprise birthday party, happy ending)

Hell's Angel 𓆩𓆪 James Hetfield (18+)

The comforting and familiar mixed scent of cigar smoke and stale lager wraps itself around you like a layer of protectant as you make your way inside of the bar, the crunch of the empty peanut shells and glass bottle caps underneath your booted feet adding a much-needed inch of height on you as you trudge your way forward and fully inside.

The weighted and triple latched door slamming behind you gathers no one's attention, as the bar is already fully alive and packed with anyone and everyone, with their screams and joyous cacophonies almost overpowering the hums of the mufflers emanating from the bike and repair room only a few handfuls of yards away.

Your eyes traipse over the ever-growing crowd of prospects and guests as you try to find a familiar face or patched leather jacket, the ghosted weight of your boyfriend's still feeling like it was weighing your shoulders down as you do so. Goosebumps raise and dance their way along your partially bare forearms, and a frown attempts to tug your lips down into a permanent imprint, as the cool draft of wind teasingly reminds you that it's no longer there.

Before you can get too into your head about the whole situation once again, an obnoxious and wilted whistle gathers your attention from the direction of the multitude of pool and gambling tables. Your eyes narrow and squint, before latching onto one of your best, and currently very drunk, friend's. A gentle chortle of a laugh bleeds its way through your lips as you get closer to him and nudge your way through the overwhelming crowd, the sight of Lars barely holding on to a slippery pitcher of beer in between his halfhearted and barely cupped palms helps to temporarily push your worrisome thoughts about the future to the back of your mind.

You rush forward and place a palm on the bottom of the glass before it can fully slip out of his hands, and a sarcastic smile etches its way on your lips as he squawks out a thankful gasp and a sound of wondered awe. Kirk greets you with a wide and affectionate grin as he catches sight of you from his seat on top of a crowded and messy betting table, his hands full of gambling chips and crumpled dollar bills as he waves them at you. You return him one back, warmth blooming in your chest as you watch him let out a celebratory shout and yank another fifty out of a burly and clearly irritated man's fist. You quickly turn your head back to the drunken Dane once the angered man stands up and slams a hand down on the table, not interested in seeing another random prospect act out in anger from losing against one of the best poker players in the entirety of the Hells Angels motorcycle crew.

Lars sends you a rewarding and wide grin as you help him sit back down safely, the sound of the leather of his jacket squeaking against the cool and hard material of the chair making you almost guffaw from the nearly animated sound, but you somehow manage to hold it in. Lars laughs anyway, before letting out a sigh of contentment and sliding down into a messy heap of limbs.

"Where's Cliff and Jason?" You ask, your lips almost brushing against the shell of his ear as you bend down to level with his slumped figure. The two men in question are blearily and haphazardly pointed at, before Lars closes his eyes and lets out a resounding yawn. An amusement filled grin finds purchase on your face as you watch him fall asleep so easily in the chaotic bar, the peaceful expression on his face seemingly looking out of place, as you remember the stressed look painted on his own just a few days prior. Your fingers twitch as you fight back the urge to push the random and long stray strands of hair away from his cheekbone, completely unaware of the man stumbling his way over to you.

A jolt jumps through you as a large hand wraps itself around your left arm, and you snap your head in its direction as an unfamiliar voice loudly invades its way through your overactive eardrums. A sound of panic tears itself through your chest as you're yanked up into a fully standing position, and your heart begins to beat erratically as an unknown man comes in to your line of view once you're stood. "Haven't seen such a pretty back warmer in such a long time. Bet there's only one of you in each district, huh? How lucky of me to make my way on over here tonight." Your upper lip promptly curls at the derogatory and degrading term, and you're quick to yank your limb out of the man's grasp, hiding a wince as his unruly and uneven nails dig into your skin with the harsh movement.

"That's funny, because I seem to fit in here a hell of a lot better than you do, all things considered," you grit out, satisfaction filling and replacing the earlier onset fear and panic inside of you, as you watch the predatory and condescending look fall straight off of his face as you continue to speak. "Nice missing patch on the back of your jacket, by the way. Seared off, am I right? Who'd you piss off that badly? Or were you kicked out and dropped off here for flirting with and harassing women twenty years younger than you, from over where you're from as well?" The man scoffs and raises his chunky hand in your direction, and you watch in disbelief as he mimics the motion of a backhanded slap.

"Women from where I come from never talk back to an elder, like you just did. How about I show you how we deal with insolent little bitches like you, instead?" He offers to you in a rough and taunting tone, his eyes widened with barely concealed rage and a vein protruding from the center of his forehead. You take in a deep breath and prepare to jump back as he swings his hand forward and in your direction. Before you can duck and try to make your way into a safer part of the crowd or bar area, a ringed fist engulfs his own and twists it behind the older man's back. Your eyes widen as your boyfriend comes into view from behind the drunkard, and the relief you feel is palpable as you watch him tower over the now fearful man.

"Women from where I come from are heavily protected and respected, and I recommend you take up this kind offer to be escorted out by my men, before I rip the entirety of your arms off and replace them with the Ape Hanger handlebars on my bike, you old, drunken fuck." James spits out, his eyes and expression only softening up once they cascade over your tense and nearly trembling figure. James nods once, and you begin to hear movement coming from all sides and corners of the room. Cliff and Jason make their way forward from behind James and they each roughly collect an arm of the unknown man, your shoulders hunching inward and visibly flinching as your ears pick up on the man's screams overpowering the sound of Black Sabbath reverberating from and throughout the building's speakers.

Kirk hurriedly jumps off the table and wraps an arm around you, before gently turning you around and guiding you towards and past the bike and repair room. You refuse to turn around as you hear and feel a heavy thump hit the wooden and hard floor beneath your feet, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel a familiar and comforting hand lightly push your head into the safety of your friend's shoulder.

"Everything will be alright, doll. Let's get you back and into one of James' rooms."

You couldn't help but feel uneasy as the music stops and the loud creak of the bar's front door makes its way all the way back to you. Multiple pairs of feet make their way toward the entry, and you're the only one out of you and Kirk to flinch, as a muted and heavy weight collects and slams itself down on the uneven asphalt of the parking lot outside. Kirk quietly shuts the door behind you and sits you down on the chair nearest to your boyfriend's disheveled and folder stack-covered desk, his hands lightly squeezing at your shoulders in a comforting way and bringing stinging tears to your eyes.

"You know we'd never let any drunk fucker put their hands on you," you nod mutely and send him a watery smile as he crouches down to your sitting height and sends you a worried glance. You twist your arm to ease the discomfort emanating from the slightly bleeding scratch marks on your forearm, and Kirk lets out a curse as your injury comes into view. "We need to get that jackass off the property before James sees you. He'll kill him if he's still here once he does." He mutters to himself, before standing back up to his full height and hastily making his way back out to the front of the bar and building.

You let out a tired and shaky exhale as you force yourself to relax in the chair you were placed in, your eyes taking in the photos of you and the rest of the gang encircled around his small office, his family. You stop yourself from getting up and walking to the bathroom and scrubbing the feeling of that man's hands off of you, knowing James would want to do it himself. Clutching your middle with your uninjured arm and making yourself small, your breath begins to finally even out as the music begins to play once again and heavily booted feet rush their way into the office and over to you.

James lets out a sigh of relief once you're in his line of sight again, the angered expression on his face melting into one of exhaustion as he resolutely closes his office's door for privacy. Your lips settle down in a frown and you go to stand up to reassure him nothing serious had happened, before letting out a quiet hiss as the skin around your scratches strain and nearly fully reopen with your movement.

James' attention zeroes in on the obvious red and jagged lines on your arm and wraps his palm around the doorknob to yank it open again, only stopping himself from walking back out and beating the drunkard to a pulp when your eyes begin to water, and your bottom lip starts to quiver.

Your boyfriend quick strides over to you and encircles you into a warm and protective embrace, before carefully lifting you up and taking you into the bathroom, where he can properly clean you up and make sure that you're okay.

𓆩𓆪

"It's not your fault." You begin, pursing your lips and quieting down as your boyfriend sends you a glare from underneath his layered and astray hair fanning his face, his already bruising knuckles pausing momentarily from pressing a saline solution into your skin with a cotton pad as he looks at you.

"Don't Good Will Hunting me. If I hadn't gotten back here in time, that old drunken fuck would have put his hands on you. More than he already has," James averts his eyes back down to your injury as his voice begins to soften, his true and young age seeping into his tone with forlorn exhaustion weighing in on it. "I shouldn't have listened to the others and invited everyone in for a celebration so soon after the first round of initiations. We don't even fully know these fucks, and look what's already happened to you."

You lift your uninjured arm and lightly brush a few strands out and away from his eyes, a small smile gaining momentum on your lips as he still melts into your touch, no matter the circumstance.

"It wasn't just the rest of the guys; I encouraged it too. You've been busting your ass to try and make things work after your uncle retired, and we just wanted to get everyone together to finally relax after a few months of stress and hard work," you try to soothe, your thumb delicately brushing over one of his dimples as he goes back to cleaning up and sanitizing your wound. "You deserved the day off and small break, and it doesn't matter if one old bastard got a little too handsy. What matters is that you got here in time, and I had Kirk and the other guys here with me too, in case it all could have gotten out of hand. I was at fault for not calling out for help, I didn't think the guy would want to get so violent with me. I thought he'd just spit some shit and walk away, like the rest of them usually do."

James bites back a rebuttal and instead just nods, his knuckles pulsating a relentless protest as he expands his fingers to intricately wrap the clean gauze around your forearm, its material already saturated in antibiotic ointment and disinfectant.

You sigh out quietly in the bathroom's tense air and look down at the ring James got you on your first anniversary as you continue your ministrations on his cheek- the snake studded skull logo of his district entangled with your number in the crew, alongside with your birth month's gemstone and your initials. You glance down at the small band underneath the weighed down silver and smile to yourself this time, the promise that came with the ring being kept like an oath for the past five years you two have been and treasured together.

"You're upset with me." You state, your left foot beginning to ants around the carpet surrounding the toilet you're sat on as you watch James put the first aid kit away.

"I'm upset that you didn't call out for help, and that you let that pig put his hands on you," You flinch back from the harsh tone he speaks with, the reaction instinctual even though you know his tone wasn't directed at you. "I'm upset that you came here tonight, without my jacket on. How else is anyone supposed to know that you're my old lady? You're surrounded by a bunch of men, a good majority of them being at least ten years older than us and our best friends, and you walked in here looking like fresh meat." You cringe at the old term of endearment, but turn to face him anyway, watching hesitantly as he frustratingly runs a ring clad hand through his tussled mane.

You push yourself up with your good arm from the low sitting toilet and ignore your boyfriend's protests as you stand, walking over to him and wrapping your arm around his neck to tug him down to your height. You press an unyielding and affirmation filled killed on his stress bitten lips, your eyelids fluttering shut as he encases you against him and lifts you off of your feet. A silent gasp breathes itself out of your now slightly gaping lips as the coolness of the sink brushes against the back of your bare legs. James takes advantage of the fact, his slick tongue sliding in between your plush lips to wrap itself around yours and beckon you in closer, your spine arching to melt your front against his and to become one.

The bitter sensation of beer engulfs your senses as his taste envelops itself on your tongue, and your fingers grab ahold of his locks as his hands come up to grip at the flimsy material of your t-shirt, the coolness of the air in the restroom beginning to feel warm and charged as the two of you refamiliarize yourselves with each other.

You let out a pant as he slides his way in between your legs and flush against the sink holding you up, the movement causing your skirt to ruffle up and rest on the upper parts of the outsides of your thighs, your dampening underwear catching onto the draft in the air and causing you to shiver.

James removes his biker jacket from his shoulders and tosses it, it somehow finding solid purchase on the shower curtain rod multiple feet away. Your boyfriend detaches from you and lets out a light groan, his tongue peeking out to catch the remnants of your taste still clinging itself on his kissed red lips.

"I'm not upset with you, baby. I'm upset for you," He murmurs, his lips finding yours with each vowel he makes physical, a strand of electrified spit keeping you two together in a roundabout and intrinsic way. "I just want you to be safe, and I feel like I failed you by taking the day off and taking the break you guys offered to me earlier. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I could never be upset with you, especially after all that you've done for me, for the crew, our family. Hell's Angels wouldn't be a damn thing without you, and you know that. Knowing and seeing that man disrespect you made my skin crawl, and it made me upset for you because you deserve so much more than that."

"And you give me so much more than that, every day." You reassure him, your head swimming and thoughts seemingly slowing down from the close proximity of having him so close to you again. James' eyes glaze over from the praise and heat spikes its way to your core as his hands slide their way down to your bare and exposed thighs and squeeze. The coldness of his rings and the press of the sink against your backside make your lids flutter, and you moan out as his hold tightens and spreads your legs even further apart.

"Yeah?" He asks you, resting his forehead against yours and staring straight into your eyes as his right hand and bruising knuckles brush against your clothed clit. A harsh exhale of a breath bursts its way out of your chest, and James lets out a husky laugh as your thighs tighten around his, shaking and restless. "How much do I give you, angel?"

"You give me so much, spoil me so well." You whimper out, a fingertip of his pushing the damp cotton of your underwear away and dipping itself into your soaking wet folds. James moans from the praise and the feeling of your velvet-like heat, and his mouth begins to salivate from the sounds spilling and pouring themselves out of your mouth.

Your forehead disconnects from his as you toss your head back, a combination of a moan and a laugh lodging itself in your throat as the back of your head makes contact with the mirror embedded in the wall behind you. James bites back a grin at the sound and bends down to kiss you once again, as he slides a thick and long index finger past your entrance and inside of you.

Your lips widen and part as he crooks his digit and begins to slowly fuck it in and out of you, the slick and thick globs and strands of your arousal making a sinful sound echo in the room surrounding the two of you. "Such a good fucking girl for me, baby. Who else could make you this wet, make a mess out of you so easily?" Pleasure filled tears fill your waterline as he adds his middle finger and roughly taps and massages his palm against your spasming clit. You cry out as he makes contact with your sponge-like spot without even trying, and you feel your abs begin to contract as your first orgasm quickly approaches.

"Nobody can make me feel as good as you," you sob, your hips rising up from the ceramic to ride his fingers as the tightness in your middle begins to snap and break apart. "Nobody ever will. It's just you and it always will be."

"Look at me," your boyfriend orders, and you do. Wild and dilated blue eyes stare back at you, with a facial expression that looks like he was orgasming with you as well, a look of being fucked out of breath painted on his features while he brings you over the edge. White flashes in your vision, but you maintain eye contact anyway, teetering on the verge of overstimulation as his hand and fingers massage and continue pounding themselves into you.

You have to reach down and force him to stop, your trembling fingertips pressing against his cloyed skin and into his hammering pulse point, your chest heaving for breath as your body shivers against his upper half. James closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as your walls constrict around his ruined and messy fingers and knuckles, his cockhead beet red in the confines of his jeans and leaking an embarrassing amount of precum against the rough fabric of his zipper.

"Think you can take another one?" He asks you, reaching up with his clean hand to brush the hair away from your face as you continue to struggle to catch your breath. Exhaustion and weariness run through you, but so does excitement and the craving to be filled, so you say yes, regardless of the fact that your body might not be ready for another orgasm or be able to take it.

You let out an accumulation of a laugh and a gasp as you're lifted off of the sink and instructed to grab ahold of James' jacket, and you feel a wide and exuberant grin against the heated skin of your neck as you're carried back into your boyfriend's office, and right on top of his desk.

Before you can even voice out a complaint, his large and calloused palms are gently tugging off your shirt and unclasping your bra with one hand, his rough tongue dancing its way down your neck and hooking itself around one of your already swollen and taut nipples. By the time he's got his sharp and straight teeth embedded in the cotton of your arousal-soaked underwear to tug them down, you're already a panting and sweaty mess. Your injured forearm is elevated and resting on a stack of folders already finished by his tenacity, your other holding up your weight and helping you stabilize as you watch him travel his way down your trembling legs. His biker jacket is the only thing keeping you partially warm from the cool air, draped around your shoulders like a permanent branding and much more accepted and welcomed than the weight and touch of any other man's hand.

Hickeys and love bites are sucked into your bruising skin, and you have to repeatedly plead for him to finally fuck you before he decidedly detaches himself and his mouth from the soft flesh of your inner thighs and calves.

James mounts himself over you on the desk, his strong arms caging you in and gifting you warmth as he carefully inserts himself inside of your tight and soaked heat. You both gasp out in relief, the air in between you becoming frenzied and the sounds of skin connecting and shallow whimpers soon follow thereafter.

Even and ruled nails make their way down your partners back as he arches into you, his ballsack smacking against your backside and creating a beautiful red hue as he fucks into you with passion and reckless abandon. You scream out as his tip brushes against your spot and even further in to reach your cervix, and he holds you down in place as you cum and make a mess against him.

You hold on tight, and attempt wrap your legs around his waist as he continues to use you for his pleasure, one hand holding you in place by your hair as you slide up and down the polished and finished wood of his desk by the force of his thrusts, and the other connected and interlocked with yours. "You look so beautiful, baby." and "You were made to take my cock, weren't you?" are whispered into your damp and blushing skin, and you reach another handful of climaxes before he finally reaches his. Warmth floods into you and paints your walls white, and James moans out against your feverish skin as your walls continue to tighten around him and milk him for all that he's worth. You let out a gasp as his hips continue to stutter into you, as if he was subconsciously trying to breed you and fill you even further with his seed.

"How was you break?" You ask him once you're both fully satiated and sat in his large chair, his arms encircled around you and holding you close, sticky skin on sticky skin. A pleased and fulfilled hum is vibrated and almost purred against you, and you place your forehead against his damp and muscled chest as you wait for his answer.

"The break we just had now, or the one I had earlier?" He teasingly asks you, falling into hysterical laughter as you swat at him and soon follow suit, tears of mirth making their way down both of your guy's cheeks while you two fall apart together this time, head resting on each other's and heartbeats eventually aligning to create a single and steady beat once you both calm down.

"Oh, shut up, you know what I meant!"

𓆩𓆪

Cliff sends the officer a sarcastic grin and wave as he drives away, before sneakily placing the blunt he hid in his long sleeve in between his perked lips and letting out a sigh of relief at the feel. Kirk lifts a lighter up for him and flicks the flame, sending his best friend and Percenter a tipsy smile as he's offered a muffled thanks.

"Any chance the police are going to go with the story we just half assed and gave to them?" He asks, the ending of each of his words sounding slightly slurred and overjoyed. Cliff shrugs and momentarily closes his eyes in bliss as the smoke pleasantly burns through his lungs, instantly opening them back up as the blunt gets yanked out from in between his index and middle fingers.

"You guys are such assholes, letting me fall asleep around all of the new guys," Lars tiredly rasps out, narrowly missing a still burning and loose ash landing on the bare skin of his knee as he squats down on the front porch, his eyes barreling in and staring down the police car as it makes its way down the now abandoned and dark highway. "Last time I did that, it was our initiation, and you two cunts drew a dick on me."

Cliff grins widely as Kirk lets out a sharp cry of laughter, his left hand holding onto his side as he howls with amusement. Lars rolls his eyes and takes another hit, before nearly knocking his friend over with his elbow as he tries passing it back to him. Coughs ring out and become visible in the thick air of the beginning of winter, and they all calm down and huddle next to each other on the closest step for warmth.

"Next time, we'll draw a labia." Kirk mumbles out, his head falling to the side and landing on Cliff's shoulder, causing him to drop the rest of the roach. Laughter tears out of the man instead of anger, and he quickly steps on the filter to cease the flame, his laughter becoming painful and uncontainable as he looks over and see's the Dane shake his head and wrap his arms around himself, the smile on his face still visible in the dark of the night as he pretends to be annoyed and irritated.

"I hate all of you assholes, every single one of you." Kirk clicks his tongue and blindly reaches out for him, before placing him in a headlock and bringing him into a choking hold.

"We love you too, Larzy Poo!" Lars gasps for breath as his best friend continues to choke hug him, and only does Kirk let up once Cliff lightly raps against his curl covered forehead to let him know that he's unknowingly loving their friend to death.

"What happened while I was out?" Lars innocently asks once he can breathe and speak again, raising an amused eyebrow as two of his closest friends look at each other and then try to yell out an answer first.

"James knocked out a fucking geezer-" "James pounded an old man, and now he's pounding his chick!"

"Shut the fuck up! No way!"

Backseat Paradise ☼ James Hetfield (18+)

The press of your boyfriend's steel studded rings feels cool against your cloying and clothed back and waist as his wide palms beckon you even closer to him, the heels of your bare feet beginning to lift off of the scalding hot pavement beneath you as he leans back against his car. Blue, mischievous filled eyes peer down at you as you try to glare up at him, an affectionate smile taking over your expression as you're insistently molded up against him. Your oversized jean jacket falls down your shoulders during James' playful movements, leaving you in only your bikini top and denim skirt as he pushes it further down your forearms and tugs it off from around your wrists. Before you can protest and go to bend down to retrieve it, a gentle and sweet kiss is pressed to your lifted lips and a calloused hand comes up to grip the nape of your neck in a firm caress and hold.

"Remind me why you can't come over to mine again?" James asks you, his voice coming out muffled as he teasingly runs his cheeky grin up and down your sun kissed jawline. You purse your lips and bite back a groan as his thumb grazes a sensitive patch of skin, your eyelids nearly fluttering shut as one of his canines latches itself onto the side of your neck and delicately presses itself into the welcoming and overheated flesh of it. You raise a hand to grasp onto one of his wrists as his mouth fully descends down and onto your clavicle, the firm grip on your neck coming in handy as he tilts your head to the side for better and easier access.

The background sounds of the melody coming from James' car's radio and your mutual friends partying in the yard only a few meters behind you become white noise, as a hickey is sucked into the skin surrounding your collarbone and the hand around your waist begins to dip lower.

"Owed our friends a little get together, to make up for all the times I kept bailing on them to spend time with you." You try to tease, your tone of voice ending in a whine as he fully leans back and sits on the driver's sides rolled-down window space, his mouth detaching from your now bruising skin with an audible pop as he does so. James bares you a wolfish grin as you try to compose yourself, your chest unsteadily rising and falling as arousal pools in your gut from just the simple teasing of his mouth alone.

"I don't think our friends would mind very much if I took you away by now," James tuts, his hand lightly patting the plump arch of your ass as he momentarily takes his eyes off of you. You follow his line of sight and breathe out a huff of laughter as you find half of your guys' friends fully inebriated, the other half of them following close behind and stumbling instead of dancing. James' lips inadvertently quirk up at the sound that pillows out of you, the grip on your neck loosening to trail down and caress the bottom half of your spine instead. "So, what do you say? Come home with me."

You glance over at him and playfully squint your eyes as he fixes his expression to look innocent, your heart restlessly pacing in your chest as you catch and digest the intended change from his earlier words. "You play dirty, Hetfield." You muse, scoffing and shoving at his shoulders as he continues to play ignorant and meek. You let up once he pinches at the dimpled skin of your back and let out a squeal as he steadies his hand on the base of your spine and fully lifts you off the ground. Dread temporarily fills you as he leans down to grab at your jacket with just one hand keeping you upright and on him, you nearly turning into the position of beginning a cartwheel and James cackling out a laugh as you tightly grip onto the chest of his own denim.

James haphazardly tosses your jacket into the window closest to the back seat, before placing your feet on top of his and walking you over that way to the passenger's side. You loosen your grip on his jacket once you two make it over safely, and you end up watching delightfully as a blush brightly blazes your boyfriend's cheeks after you give him a grateful kiss, once he opens the door for you and lifts you up once again to slide you in. "Such a gentleman." You mirthfully praise, fully taking advantage of the temporary upper hand you know you'll lose as soon as you two make it home, or at least past the doorway.

James sends the few friends of yours coherent enough to say goodbye to the two of you a wave, before hastily opening his own door and making his way into the driver's sides seat. You stretch your arm out over the long one-seater of the front half of the car to tug the damp and sweat laden collar of his jacket off and away from his neck, grazing your thumb against the exposed skin as he sends you a grateful smile and tries to place the key into the ignition. You silently raise an eyebrow as you watch his hand slightly stammer and tremor in place, before successfully finding the insert. You go to ask him if he's alright, before pausing and widening your eyes as they travel down and find purchase on the obvious and painful looking erection, pressing down and against the zipper of his skintight and constricting jeans.

Self-gratification overflows though you as you realize that he's as on edge as you are, your lower limbs tensing up and closing shut as his cologne and natural scent permeates and surrounds you once he closes his own door and begins to shift gears. A warm and calloused palm engulfs your tanned left leg to slide you over and closer to him, your boyfriend grinning to himself as you gasp out loud and your legs subconsciously and automatically open at his touch. You narrow your eyes and then you grin to yourself, before sliding one of your own hands over and onto his thigh and gripping the meat closest to his groin, a perverse and fulfilled grin overtaking your features as he jumps in his seat and begins to fidget, his foot almost narrowly missing the accelerator as your fingertips lightly tap themselves against his oversensitive and pulsating ballsack.

You send him an innocent smile as he glares over your way, before carefully starting to drive forward. His glare saying, wait until we get home, and your smile responding with, two can play that game.

☼

Your raise your free hand to wipe at the sweat collecting itself on the precipice of your right eyebrow, fighting back your own annoyance at the upcoming holiday traffic you two are currently stuck in. "Looks like we aren't getting back to your place as soon as we had hoped for." You lightly say in the now quiet and tense silence impeding itself in the car, nudging your shoulder against your downtrodden boyfriend's as his fingers whiten with his tight hold around the steering wheel.

"The only reason I came out today was so that I could come pick you up and get to spend the night with you, before the rest of the band and I have to pack up and travel across state for another venue tomorrow afternoon." James grits out harshly, his head reeling back to rest against the headrest behind him with a thud, eyes absentmindedly looking forward as the line of cars in front of the two of you continuously refuses to move. Guilt begins to weigh you down and you slightly curl into yourself for comfort, the movement catching the attention of your boyfriend and causing him to wrap an arm around your bare shoulders as soon as he catches sight of you in his peripheral vision.

"This isn't your fault, babe. The concerts got pushed forward a week in advance because of the weather and the quick selling of the tickets, and you didn't even know I had to leave so early until now," James frets over you as you rapidly try to blink back tears of frustration, only feeling slight relief once you lean into his touch rather than backing away or out of it. "I'm not upset with you at all. I'm just feeling like shit because I have to leave again so soon, and I've barely even been at home or with you these past few months, and that's where I want to be."

You entangle your fingers in his and sigh out a watery exhale, resting your head against his bicep and sending him a wilted smile as he looks down at you, filled with worry. You go to reassure him that you're alright, before halting as your eyes catch an empty and isolated parking spot on the outskirts of the side of the road.

"Pull over." You breathe out, using your joined hands to point over to the parking spot that's underneath a handful of yellow-orange leaved trees. James furrows his eyebrows in confusion but decidedly agrees with you, and somehow manages to find enough space to maneuver his way around the overabundant number of cars surrounding his own, and haphazardly makes his way into the spot you had just pointed out.

"Why exactly did we get out of the traffic we were nearly already halfway through?" James asks you, his frustration at himself and the situation now long gone, with amusement now filling the entirety of his tone as he takes in your newfound excitement. "Look around." You simply say, causing him to scrunch his nose and twist the key in the ignition to turn off the engine. James squints his eyes but can't see much through the overgrown out and slumped tree branches collecting themselves around the roof of the car. Their lived in limbs rest themselves just inches above the top of the car and hide the windows from any outside eyes and onlookers, only short and beautiful colored beams of light from the fourth of July set ups on lampposts making their way through the protective leaves of the trees.

"Baby, I know I always say I love your imagination, but this might be a little too much." A laugh titters its way from in between your lips, and James watches you incredulously as you hike your skirt up and climb your way to the backseat. You rest your arms near his still outstretched one and nod your head towards the clock still operating on the top of his car's dashboard, your feet on the seat behind you unintentionally kicking your jacket to the floor.

"It's 10:15 pm right now, which means that if we get back into the shit show we call traffic, we won't be back home until close to 12:30am. Which means that we'll both be too tired to have some fun, and we'll both end up blue balled and pissed off once you get on the bus with the rest of the guy's tomorrow afternoon," your heart swells as you watch James bellow out laughter from your words, that giving you enough confidence to keep on going. "So how about instead of that, we put this old can of a car to use, see how far forward this front seat can go, have some fun of our own, then head on home and take a shower together, get some well needed rest, then have an amazing breakfast together, and pack up the rest of the shit you forgot to before you came all the way out here to pick me up?"

You arch an eyebrow upward and rest your head on the collection of your hands in front of you while James watches you with absolute stars in his eyes, before seemingly unfreezing and damn near lunging himself at you and over the front seat.

You let out a shocked bout of laughter as he almost lands on top of you and simultaneously flips you both over all at once. James brushes away the stray hairs that cascade themselves down in the intimate air you two share as you comfortably straddle his waist and lower your upper half toward him.

"Goddamn, do I love you." He breathes out, his declaration taking all of the breath out of your lungs, just like it did the very first time he ever said it to you. You reach back and untie the loops of your bikini top, letting out a wild gasp as James' mouth immediately latches itself onto one of your nipples.

"Show me." You moan, your hips grinding steady, yet erratic circles against his still hard and leaking cock. James grins against your perked areola and watches as your mouth gapes open as he pinches your other erect nipple with his free thumb and forefinger. Gladly, he thinks. He'll show you. With pleasure.

☼

James watches you hungrily as you ride his heavily ringed fingers, your pleasure almost feeling like his own as he feels the ridges of the inside of your velvet-like cunt suck and dance their way down his curling and soaked three digits. Your hips buck each time you make your way down to his last knuckles, the coolness of the silver of his rings making your clit sting and pearl in the most delicious way.

You let out a resounding cry as your boyfriend beneath you slowly extracts his fingers from inside of you, before fucking them back into you with renewed fervor and brushing along your sponge-like spot, each and every single time. "Am I showing you yet, baby?" James taunts, his cockhead weeping and creating a dark stain against the zipper of his jeans as he twists his wrist and holds you in place as you shake on top of him. You nod instead of verbally answering him, afraid your voice will crack if you speak out loud.

James tsks in disappointment, before removing his fingers altogether and placing your bare sex on the rough fabric of his pants. You let out a wince as your pussy walls tighten from the sensation, a bead of your arousal already bleeding and adding onto his mess as soon as you two make contact.

"I already have you nonverbal, and I'm not even inside of you yet." James playfully teases you, a small grin making its way onto your face despite the fact that you were cheated out of an orgasm. "Please." You whisper, wincing at the sound of the harshness of your own voice, the multitude of screams and moans bellowed out of you already temporarily damaging your voice box.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you," your boyfriend croons in a placating tone, one hand reaching up to delicately wrap it around your throat and the other reaching down to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans. "I always do."

You lick your lips as you feel his erection jump against your already swollen and sensitive clit, and you quietly shake your head and gently brush his hands away. "Want to take care of you this time, baby. Want to give you something to remember while you're on the road." James raises and eyebrow and grins widely, the laughter he felt bubbling up from the sound of your broken voice dying down in his chest as you reach down to grip him through the fabric.

Satisfaction floods your gut as you watch your boyfriend grit his teeth underneath you, the cockiness and self-assuredness quickly deteriorating into want and need as you grip him with one hand and unbutton his jeans with the other. "Going to make you feel so good, baby. I promise." You whimper, your mouth salivating as his appreciative length finally comes into view, your tongue finding purchase on the back of your teeth as your hand can barely fit around his entire girth. James lets out a painful sounding curse as he watches you reach down to your own sex and use your own slick to coat and lube his erection, his balls tightening and raising from just the sight alone.

The audible sound of your slick moving in your palm as it connects and spreads in between your fingers makes you blush in the near darkness, a light blue hue of a star bleeding its way through the leaves and making your expression barely visible in the small confines of the car.

James mentally grips onto every single expression and crease that makes its way on your face as you bring his cock to your soaked entrance and slowly make your way down his sizable length. James brings his free hand up to rub slow circles in the base of your spine as you have to take a break halfway through, nothing but love and praise falling from in between his gaping lips as he watches your pussy slowly swallow him whole, an in synch and harmonious sigh ringing out and becoming a cacophony with your matching moans as you eventually bring yourself up on your feet and press your upper half against his.

"You're doing so well for me, always such a good fucking girl." He whispers and pants, moans into your hair, his hand sliding around to your other hip to give you leverage as you milk him dry with each riding motion you make. You tremble every time you bottom out, his cockhead breaching past your pleasure spot and feeling like it was trying to make its way into your womb to breed you. His zipper scratches against the soft skin on the underside of your ass, almost mimicking the sensation of his nails raking themselves into the skin of your hips as he hoists you up and down on his lap.

Warmth grows and tethers in your groin as sweat accumulates and then cries its way down your arched spine, your hands gripping onto your boyfriend's shoulders as your legs and thighs begin to weaken and burn. "Need you." Is the only thing you have to whisper, before James has you carefully placed underneath him, with each leg of yours on each of his shoulder blades.

James grunts as your walls suck him in and soak his entire shaft and public bone with slick, the car heady with the scent of sex and want and longing as he deliberately thrusts himself inside of you. "Think you can fuck me some type of special way and I won't forget about you while I'm out on the road?" He asks you, the hand not holding him up and tangled in your hair on the seat below the two of you reaching down to harshly rub at your clit. "I'll think of you anyway, all the fucking time. I couldn't even try to think about another woman, you've ruined me." You let out a pleasured scream as you reach your first orgasm, your walls spasming so tightly around James that he has to stop mid thrust to collect himself, his hand on your clit rushing down to make a fist around his throbbing ballsack to stop himself from cumming. James takes in a deep breath and shakily curses out loud, before finding his momentum once again and fucking himself back into you.

"I think about you and finger myself before I fall asleep to the sound of your voice coming from the other side of the phone, when you're out of town and on tour. You've ruined me too." You confess weakly and nearly incoherently, the entire bottom half of your body seizing as he folds you in half and fucks into you blindly, his balls smacking against your backside and creating long, string-like lines with your arousal. "You're trying to kill me." James moans out like a plea, his chest feeling like it's going to give out with how much he's feeling all at once, the love he feels for you, and the death grip you've currently got around the entirety of the shaft of his dick.

Your laugh ends in a gasp as he bottoms out and jack hammers repeatedly against your g-spot, your mouth gaping wide open and a silent scream bellowing itself out of your gut as James fills you to the brim with his seed, your second orgasm gushing and mixing with his, the bottomless amount of your slick and release helping him fuck his cum up to and inside of your cervix. James holds you close as you slowly come back to, white spots still visible and apparent in your vision and your hands still holding on for dear life on his sweat clad shoulders and scratch marked skin.

You both let out a curse as he slowly removes his spent dick from inside of you, him now overly sensitive and your pussy walls relentlessly fluttering themselves shut to hold the rest of his overflowing release inside of you.

James carefully sits up and brings you with him in his lap, apologizing as you let out a soft hiss as his zipper makes brief contact with your still pulsating and spasming clit. "I love you too, by the way." You muse, uncaring of the harsh rasp in your voice as your boyfriend brings your head down to gently rest it against his sweating and heaving chest. Your lips quirk up into an exhausted smile as the vibration of his laughter runs and reverberates through you.

"I for sure fucking hope so."

Hushed sounds of honking and skidding tires and muffled curse words lazily make their way through the half cracked open windows as you two hold each other close, the red, white and blue starred deco on the lampposts shining through and becoming more apparent as time goes by, as if they were celebrating for you two.

You eventually raise your head from James' chest and smile up at him, placing a warm and affectionate kiss to his salty and sweaty lips, uncaring of the taste as he slides his tongue into the depths of your tiresome mouth. A soft hum of content is what you're left feeling as he leans back and blearily opens his eyes back open for you.

"You ready for that ride back home just yet?" You ask him, laughter building in your sore throat as he grunts out a half assed response. "You ready for that hot shower and breakfast in the morning?" Silence envelops the two of you, before James lets out a hearty chuckle and presses a warm kiss to your spent forehead.

"As long as you're here with me for the ride back and breakfast in the morning, I'm ready for anything." You rebut his sentiment with a hum of content yourself, and grin widely in the colorful night as you feel James playfully smack at the back of your bare thigh in retaliation. Raising a shaky hand to place underneath his chin and caress his stubbly skin, you two share a small and warm smile as the traffic slowly parts ways and condenses down to little to nothing, as the other cars and drivers ignorantly pass on by the two of you in your own, little world, protected by the trees and their colorful leaves.

"Together we go, then, baby." "Together we go."

Room For More ☆ Jason Newsted, Kirk Hammett (18+)

You bite back a smile and raise your cup to your slightly parted lips as a familiar set of arms encircle themselves around you from behind, your eyes nearly closing in bliss as your boyfriend's touch emanates much needed warmth and the heady taste of lager floods its way into your awaiting mouth. Your upper half feels pleasantly weighed down as your eyes venture over and through the ever-growing crowd impatiently barreling its way into the dressing room you two currently stood in, goosebumps awakening and creating dormancy on your exposed flesh as Jason's hands begin to wander their way down and explore.

You unevenly swallow as large and calloused palms make their way past and inside the top of your jeans and rest just above the beginning of your underwear, the studded and uneven designed rings adorning his thick and long fingers nearly intertwine themselves in the loose strands of fabric inside your pants as he does so. Light russet brown curls tickle the side of your neck as Jason rests his chin on your partially bare right shoulder, his rough-skinned fingertips gently massaging and drawing figure 8's into the soft skin just underneath the ending of the flimsy lace and cotton, on the precipice of your inner thighs.

"Hi baby," He breathes out as a greeting, nearly against you. The cadence in his soft and loving tone makes you fully relax back in his embrace, the motion lulling the two of you even closer together and nearly merging you both into one being. You turn your head to the side and place a wet kiss to his jawline, a light laugh making its way out of you as you watch him playfully raise his eyebrow in faux shock. Your laughter dies down and stutters to a hitched exhale as his blue and slightly dilated eyes peer down at your raised and beer-damp lips, his fingertips subconsciously pressing themselves even deeper into your sensitive skin and creating temporary indentations as he watches them further part and suck in a shaky breath. "Missed you."

Your heartbeat unevenly flutters in your chest at his sweet admission of truth, your tongue nervously coming out to flick against your drying lips as he brings his face even closer to yours. "I missed you too." You admit, your voice barely audible and coherent over the yelling and tipsy strangers in the room with you, completely ignorant and unknowing of the tension building in between the two of you in the back of it, near one of the exits. You eagerly inhale the intoxicating scent of your boyfriend's natural musk and cologne as his lips brush against yours, the grasp you have on your cup nearly loosening as his fingers curl up and bunch the fabric of your underwear in a slight grip.

"Oh yeah?" Jason murmurs, his bottom lip connecting with yours as he physically embodies every vowel and consonant he uses to speak to you with. You needily nod and blush as he chuckles at your enthusiasm, his eyes darkening and slitting as he hungrily takes in all of your aborted and heavy breaths breathed out against him. "How about you show me, and our guest how much you missed me then?"

You furrow your brows in confusion at his teasing words and tone, before freezing in place and shutting your eyes in mortification. "Who is it?" You ask in a groan, lowering your head to rest it against your boyfriend's chin as he heartily laughs out into the frenzied air.

"Just your best friend, is all," Jason announces easily, as if acknowledging Kirk watching you both from afar was nothing out of the ordinary. "Want me to invite him over?" You raise your head and open your eyes to gape at him in shock, before raising your free hand to lightly smack at his side once you see the amusement painting his features. You can't help but grin back at him as you watch his tired face brighten up from your reaction, all annoyance gone as he placatingly loosens his grip from around the fabric and grazes his thumb over your hipbone.

"He's your friend too, you know? They all are." You lightly remind him, fighting back the urge to roll your eyes as he lowers his head to lap at the side of your neck instead of verbally answering you. Jason half asses a grunt against your reddening skin, before moderately biting into the junction of your neck to leave a love bite. You moan out into the chilled air and nearly close your eyes, before a familiar head of curly hair grasps onto your attention in your dazed and slightly blurred, peripheral vision.

"Jason," you gasp as he sucks on your now bruising and welting skin, his ring finger traveling down your flesh to lightly tap against your still clothed and now pulsating clit. "Jason. Kirk's coming over." Jason lets out a sound filled with mirth against you, before pulling away and raising his head to look into your blown wide pupils and enlarged eyes.

"If you aren't comfortable with this, baby, just say the word and I'll take you to some place more private. This is all about you, and for you. We can wait." Jason promises you, swears. You go to open your mouth to question him, but pause as a third hand lightly wraps itself around your waist and almost beckons you forward. Kirk sends you a slightly nervous, but still beaming look as you gaze up at him from your position in between your boyfriend's legs and embrace.

"Did he talk to you yet?" Kirk asks you, his eyes trailing down your middle and finding purchase on the hands currently resting and caressing you in your pants. You let out a sound of disbelief and snap your head to the right, your boyfriend beginning to look sheepish as you glower at him. "You had this planned?" You question him, embarrassment filling and overwhelming you as Kirk takes the drink from out of your hand and places it off to the side. Jason starts to look regretful, bending down to place a calming kiss on your pursed lips as you tense in his hold and go to lift your back off of his front.

"It isn't what you think, I promise. You told me that you had a crush on Kirk when you were younger and all growing up together, and him and I had drinks and smoked on the road a few days ago. Came out while we were hammered, and he admitted to used to liking you too, and we just bullshitted around it for a while until this idea came to mind," Jason explains, his hands coming out from inside of your denim and up to lightly rub at your sides as he attempts to comfort you. "We spoke about maybe bringing someone else into the bedroom with us at some point down the line a few times before, and I thought that you wouldn't feel any more comfortable than with someone who knows you as well as I do. In some ways, at least."

Kirk nods and offers you a gentle smile of agreeance, the sight of his crooked and endearing smile making it hard for you to hold on to any further embarrassment or hesitation. "It's true. We spoke about this for hours and we planned on making this a private thing, but the rest of the guys ended up bringing the roadies and their girls backstage with them, and it all just kind of went to shit. I only came over here to offer the private room to you guys in case you and Jason still wanted to have a good night together, before we have to get back on the road for the next venue and concert," you watch as he playfully raises a key and waves it in your line of vision, before placing it on the table beside you and taking a step back, his hand falling from your side. "The last thing we wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable, or make you feel like we were teasing you and fucking around with your feelings. I've wanted you for a while, but if this isn't what you want and your feelings are only for Jason, I completely understand."

You take in a deep breath and listen intently as Kirk trails off in a despondent tone, your hands coming up to rest on top of Jason's as he places a kiss on the top of your spine. "Jason will always be more than enough for me, but I have thought about you joining us a few times." You admit, bashful, a smile growing on your lips as you watch your best friend straighten up and lick his own. Jason's hands shift from underneath yours for your attention, his thumbs encircling around your own to caress them gently as he murmurs your name against the shell of your ear.

Blue eyes meet yours from over your shoulder, and your boyfriend nods in the direction of your best friend before sending you a sideways grin. "I'd take up the offer if I was you, baby. Five more minutes alone, and our lead guitarist is going to have a broad hanging off of each one of his arms." You giggle as Kirk's cheeks suddenly ablaze, the rare shyness while being around the two of you both brand new and sparking your interest, the warmth in your groin reigniting as you watch your best friend's eyes dance down your figure, starving-like and slow, before turning almost shy again.

You glance back at Jason one last time for confirmation, before nodding and stretching an arm out to grasp onto the key. You raise it in their line of vision and wave it around like Kirk had done earlier, a large smile making its way on your face and anticipation building itself in your core as they both let out matching sounds of amusement and expectancy.

"Take me to the private room then, boys."

☆

"How am I supposed to make my way into all of this again, exactly?" Kirk asks you both, a tinge of nerves in his tone and his eyes erratically glancing in between the two of you. The on-and-off confidence your best friend showed earlier begins to slowly deplete as you all make your way down to the room, the party somehow still as loud as it was when you were all inside, now twenty feet away and with one of the two doors shut. Jason wraps an arm around his shoulders and brings him in close as he did with you earlier, you smiling gently and clasping onto one of Kirk's hands, as James and Cliff whistle and shout from the other end of the hallway.

"You filthy fucks!" "Get it on!" As it turns out, you three, especially you and Jason, weren't as subliminal and discreet as you all thought you had been. Kirk grins despite his nervousness and directs a hand behind his back to give two of his other best friends the middle finger. The loud bouts of drunken laughter that follow after the gesture makes you all smile and partially relax, their rowdiness comforting and familiar grounding before such a new beginning and experience.

"In the past year and a half I've been with you guys, I've never once seen you this strung up and nervous before a lay. What gives?" Jason responds and asks, a playful hint in his voice to hide his full-on curiosity. Kirk raises an arm to wrap it around Jason's waist and squeezes your hand before answering, glancing at you only momentarily. "I'm not nervous because I'm getting laid, I'm nervous because it's you. Well, the both of you, actually." You and Jason share a silent look, and both hold back smiles as you each catch onto the hidden words and meaning.

"It isn't going to be weird because we're your friends or because we're dating. You aren't going to make a mess of things, and we can stop at any point in case it all becomes a bit too much. Our friendship and all of our comfortability comes before any of this." You reassure him, peering over at the door they stop in front of, Jason leaning against the frame and looking completely relaxed as you take it in. Your boyfriend sends you both an untamed grin, before clicking his tongue and nodding toward the private sign dangling haphazardly on a nail in the chipped door.

"Might end up with splinters in our asses, if the bed and framing are as messed up as the finish of this wood," he jokes, before sending Kirk a hearty and heavy look. "I invited you because I trust you, we both do. There's no one else I feel as certain to do this with, especially with my girl involved, man. There's always been space for you in our friendship and relationship, what makes it so different now that we're including you in our sex life too?" You blush at the vulgarity of his words, a complete contrast and opposition to how you were with him only a few minutes prior.

"What happens if feelings get involved? What if someone ends up wanting more?" Kirk asks, his confidence coming back after all the reassurance, now fully able to steadily look you and Jason both in the eye. Jason's cobalt eyes flash over to you, self-assured and secure, before shrugging and flipping the sign over to read occupied.

"For you, there's always room for more," he states easily, bending down to place a thankful kiss to your lips as you hand the key over to him. As your boyfriend unlocks the door for all three of you and pushes it open, you and Kirk share small, shy smiles. Whatever happens next, you were sure you were all looking forward to it.

You take in a deep breath as you follow the both of them in, Jason staying back to hold the door open for you. Butterflies erupt in the cage of your midsection as the door shuts behind you with a resounding click and the lights flicker on, a bright, yellow-tinged luminescence. You all glance at each other, before instinctively moving forward, Jason enveloping himself straight against your back and Kirk somehow already knowing how to mold himself to the front of you. And as your best friends lips make contact with your yours for the very first time and you boyfriend makes his way down the base of your spine with his mouth and teasing teeth, only four words come to mind.

To making more room.

☆

You let out a soft pitter of laughter as Kirk trails his lips down your sternum, the light fabric of your t-shirt now untied and pillowed near your feet on the carpet. You feel his lips turn upward against your shivering skin as his mouth continues to tickle you, your boyfriend's mouth already at the base of your spine and mouthing at the back of your jeans.

"Why don't you tell Kirk what your favorite fantasy with all of us together is?" Jason suggests mercilessly, his domineering tone out of character but still pleasantly welcomed. Your best friend looks up at you with wide brown eyes, his red and bitten lips now only a few centimeters away from one of your perked and swollen nipples. You let out a moan as your boyfriend wraps his arms around you from behind to unbutton your jeans and lightly tug them down. "Go ahead, sweetheart."

You lick your lips and cry out a gasp as Kirk tongues his way around your areola, the same time as Jason's rough thumb makes contact with your clit through your soaking wet underwear. Kirk's mouth makes an audible slurping sound as he hollows his lips to suck at the mound of your breast, his free hand coming up to grasp and fondle the other, his thumb and index fingers tantalizingly rubbing your other nipple to intense sensitivity. You let out a pleasured hiss as Jason lightly pinches your clit in retaliation to not answering his question. I'm waiting.

"I picture Kirk on top of me, mounting me, while you're fucking my mouth and using me." You shakily whisper out, your face completely red and your lips gaping open in pleasure as your underwear are pushed to the side and a thick finger is ran through your folds.

"Sounds good, doesn't it?" Jason asks Kirk, a pleasured jolt shocking through you as your best friend disconnects from you to watch as your boyfriend brings you pleasure, his hand reaching down to cup his own dick in the confines of his tight jeans.

You watch as Kirk unzips his zipper and hurriedly removes himself from his briefs, letting out a sigh of relief as his cockhead slaps against his lower stomach and twitches with painful arousal. "So fucking good." Your mouth waters as he reaches down to twist his palm against his shaft and makes a fist, the pleasured arch of a wrinkle making its way in between his eyebrows as he pants is almost beautiful.

Jason makes his way to your front and helps you carefully remove your underwear and jeans down the rest of your legs and from around your ankles, before kneeling in front of you and leaning forward to lap at your swollen clit without any warning. The sound that expels and forces itself out of your throat is close to a wail, and you have to fist handfuls of his hair as your legs threaten to let you fall and give out from beneath you. You force yourself to keep your eyes open as Kirk pants and lets out moans of his own, the copious amount of precum leaking from his tip being more than enough for his tightening fist to use as lube.

Tears spring to your eyes as two thick fingers delicately make their way inside of your already clenching entrance, curling up and hitting your spongelike spot with finesse as soon as they reach hilt and his last knuckle. Jason sits back on the balls of his feet and watches as you fall apart from his fingers alone, the sound of his wet wrist making harsh contact with the inside of your tremoring thighs loud enough to make anyone within twenty feet blush and turn away.

Jason turns his head to glance at Kirk, before simply saying, "Stop." You watch in awe as Kirk's hand goes slack and falls limp on his thigh, his dick weeping another bead of precum as your boyfriend gives him an appraising look. "Good boy. Wouldn't want you to cum before you fuck our girl, isn't that right?" You pant out harshly in the nearly quiet room, the only sounds being your punched out moans and your boyfriend's wrist flicking upwards to fuck his lengthy fingers in and out of you.

You hastily reach down for Jason's arm and partially squat as your first orgasm barrels its way through you, your fists tightening and tugging on your boyfriend's hair as you do so, causing him to moan out loud from the pain and speed up his ministrations until you gasp out his name and plead for him to stop.

"Jason, please." You whimper and cry out, your boyfriend grasping onto your waist with his free hand just in time to catch you before you fall, your upper legs going numb and unable to stop seizing as you narrowly land in his lap. Jason coos and balances the combination of both of your weights, before standing up and bringing you with him. Kirk shakily rises and makes way for the both of you, readjusting you into a comfortable position as Jason lies you down on the uneven, makeshift bed.

Kirk's eyes stare down at you ravenously, his undivided attention only shifting off of you once two glistening fingers are placed in his line of sight. You watch as your boyfriend raises an eyebrow and glances down at his own digits, before imitating an opening mouth multiple times. "I bet you were wondering how she tastes," after Kirk's almost dazed and answering nod, Jason places his nearly dripping with arousal index and middle finger's right against the swell of his bottom lip. "Why don't you have a little taste then, hm?"

Your breath hitches as Kirk's eyes flicker over to Jason's and his lips part widely in submission, his tongue peeking out from in between his kiss chapped lips for an easier glide into his awaiting mouth. Jason smiles at him gently, pleased, before sliding his fingers into his warm opening, raising an eyebrow as your best friends lips enclose around them and almost suck them in.

Your clit pulses back to life as you watch Kirk's cock bead and dribble, his prerelease almost landing on your thigh and mixing in with your own. Jason removes his fingers from his mouth once they're licked clean, before bending down to a squat and taking your head in between his hands. "You think you can take another round?" Your boyfriend asks you, his gentle smile turning into a wolfish grin as he watches you glare up at him indignantly. "I'll take that as a yes."

You watch, enraptured, as your boyfriend undresses himself. It's like the first time each time, with the sound of his belt clanking together before silently hitting the carpeted floor. The muscles contract and tense in his visible forearms as he bends over to shove his jeans down his thick legs, his shirt causing his hair to mess and frizz as he lifts it up and over his head, his thick and long, accommodating length welcoming you with a bob as he kicks his briefs off from around his ankles.

You glance over at Kirk and blush as he lets go of his shirt and allows it to join in on the piles of discarded clothes already on the floor, his lean and soft ridged muscles encapsulating his body type in the most perfect way. A thick and yet cleanly trimmed happy trail makes its way down to his beautiful looking cock, already leaking and weeping precum everywhere and just begging to be inside of you. Kirk licks his lips repetitively, as if your musky and natural essence coated his mouth entirely during the taste test your boyfriend allowed him to have. Dark, spirally curls fan out around his sweaty face and cling to the sides of his cheekbones, his jeans now removed and legs tense as if he's fighting back the urge to jump you and take you in any way he's allowed.

Your legs spread open on their own accord as you feel a gush of arousal pearl and slowly make its way down your swollen and glistening pussy lips. A small and tired smile finds purchase on your face as you hear them both groan out in unison, and you shift to position yourself as you would in your favorite fantasy once you feel you have enough upper body strength: your body resting in the middle of the bed with your head being the only limb hanging off of it, your hands resting on either side of your head with open palms up, and your legs spread wide open and welcoming.

Jason lets out a winded curse as he makes his way over to where your head hangs off, placing a warm and gentle hand on the middle of the back of your head and bending down to guide you into a wet and promising kiss. Your tongues tangle together despite the contradicting position, your lips making audible smacks and thick trails of spit landing on your forehead as he gently moves away. Jason looks down at you in loving disbelief, as you already looked fucked out from his fingers and kisses alone. "You ready, Hammett?"

Kirk has to physically shake his head as if he's in a trance or a stupor, and you have to bite back a giggle as you watch your boyfriend look over at him exasperatedly. Kirk lets out a laugh of disbelief of his own as he stares down and marvels at you, his feet moving on their own accord as he finds himself kneeling on the edge of the bed and taking you in as you display yourself for them. You reach out and interlace your fingers with his own, your smile seemingly deemed delicate and comforting enough to have Kirk nodding his head and glancing up at your boyfriend with finality.

"Ready."

☆

The first slide of your boyfriend's dick in your mouth is coincided and partially interrupted with Kirk's first full thrust inside of you, causing you to jolt upwards and nearly deepthroat the entirety of your boyfriend's length, while unprepared. You scramble for purchase on your boyfriend's thighs as you slide yourself back into place and only take him halfway, your tongue lolling out to massage the thick vein pulsating itself alongside your overly salivating tongue.

Kirk lets out a moan of an apology and he squeezes his eyes shut, the warm and tight heat of your walls being almost too much for him to handle at once, while your boyfriend carefully pushes the hair out of your face, whispering praises down to you as he carefully begins to fuck his way in and out of your mouth.

Tears cling to your lashes as Jason and Kirk somehow manage to find a matching thrust rhythm, each moan of yours being muffled by the length slowly making its way in and out of your throat and adding even more pleasure for your boyfriend. Kirk's thrusts hit right above your spot every time, each stroke of his hips almost bringing you even closer to your second orgasm, his added weight pressing onto your stomach in the most delicious way as he mounts you and fucks deep into you. You try to lift your hips to help Kirk rub his cockhead lower and against your g-spot, but your legs are too weak to even raise or wrap around his waist. Jason notices your slight struggle and laughs quietly to himself, before sending you a reassuring look.

You shout as your boyfriend leans forward to gently beckon Kirk to lift his upper half off of you, only to reach down and roughly rub at your clit with three fingers. Your best friend mutters out a curse, his eyes blown wide and his hands scrambling to keep you in place as your boyfriend directs him to situate himself in a lower position to help you cum faster. "She's so fucking pretty, isn't she?" Jason asks him as your tongue stretches out to massage his raising and tightening ballsack, his face only inches away from Kirk's and grinning as you swallow around him and rest your nose against his trimmed pubes and pubic bone.

Spit trails down your forehead and temples in thick globs as you shallowly breathe out around him, the slightly lack of oxygen only adding on to the insurmountable amount of pleasure you were currently feeling, eyes nearly crossing and rolling back in your head as Kirk follows your boyfriend's instructions and almost immediately hits your cervix and g-spot dead on.

"The prettiest," Kirk moans out, his tone lowering to a grunt as he bottoms his way out in you and thrusts in small pulses, his cockhead now easily nudging against your spots and your pussy walls eagerly sucking him in. "So fucking tight around me, I don't think I'm going to last long." Jason's lips spread wide as he moans once you suck against his shaft harshly, forcing himself not to fuck your throat as roughly as he'd like to with you already feeling sexually overwhelmed.

"Making us feel so good, pretty." Jason praises, letting out an echoing and ricocheted breathy moan as you raise one of your hands to fondle at his balls and the other to wrap around the base of his dick. Kirk stares at Jason as he feels his balls tighten and his cock begin to spurt out a large amount of precum as your walls begin to spasm around him, your second and last orgasm making you clench around Kirk so tightly, he wasn't able to continue thrusting.

Jason continuously rubs at your clit as he watches your bottom half flail and try to get away from his touch, before looking into Kirk's eyes to tell him exactly what he needed to hear. "You can let go."

Kirk's eyes widen as he's granted permission to cum, and the tight coil in his stomach seems to snap at your boyfriend's words. His hips roughly thrust and fuck their way into you with reckless abandon, his seed adding even more warmth into your already sweating and overexerted body. Jason carefully makes his way from on top of you once your hands begin to shake and your jaw begins to slack with exhaustion, his own hand creating a fist to fuck into as he slides his dick from out of your mouth.

Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow down at you as you lift a shaky hand and wrap it around his ministrative wrist, before gently tugging it away. "Finish in me." You barely whisper, the grated tone of your voice making his cock twitch and drop a teardrop worth of cum in between your own. You both blink at each other, before falling into deep laughter as the droplet runs down and condenses itself into the spit already drying and matting itself in your hair.

"If you're sure." Jason only moves once you nod in agreeance, taking the long way around so he doesn't have you shift your already sore and tensing neck. You look over and beckon Kirk to sit down next to you as your boyfriend carefully lifts up your hips and places a pillow underneath your backside. Your best friend sits right next to your head and begins to gently run his fingers through the mess of your hair, letting out a huff of amusement as his fingers get caught and tangled up in the first try.

"Maybe next time." You tiredly draw, sending Kirk a small smile as you watch him beam down at you and try to move your hair out of the way instead. Jason watches you two softly, before reaching down to delicately graze your clit, a barely audible coo coming from out of his lips at you lightly wince at the slight oversensitivity.

"I know, baby, I know." Jason slowly eases his way into you, relief filling him as he realizes that his plan of distracting you with stimulation would ease the discomfort of him entering you had worked. Your lips part with surprised pleasure as Jason slowly thrusts his cock in and out of you, the stretch only pleasant and your body fully welcoming his slightly girthier length as he carefully uses you for his own release. Kirk watches as your body greedily sucks him back in with every thrust and movement of your boyfriend's hips, as if even though you were exhausted and spent, your body still craved his release and wanted to be fully bred.

You carefully lift a still tremoring leg and wrap it around Jason's waist, pressing the hell of your foot into the dimpled skin of his lower back. "You know what I want you to do, don't you?" You murmur, swallowing drily as your throat protests every vowel and movement. Jason mindfully propels himself forward and rests his hands on either side of your head, his eyes searching in yours as he feels his abs start to constrict and his groin begin to burn.

"You want me to breed you nice and full, have me watch as my seed runs down your legs afterwards. Want me to feed it to you." You moan in unison with Jason as his cockhead continuously makes contact with your spongelike spot, shock running through you as you feel another seemingly impossible orgasm build inside of you.

"That's right, sweetheart. You're so fucking smart. So good and open for me, still nice and tight after all we did to you." Kirk's cock begins to fill once again as he filters your praise as his own, his hands gripping onto his thighs as he watches you both moan into each other's mouths and cum together at once.

Kirk watches as you both impossibly and easily fall into each other like puzzle pieces, and he falsely smiles to himself before lifting himself off of the bed and reaching down to grab ahold of his underwear. Jason raises his head from yours and raises an eyebrow as he makes eye contact with his band member from in between his legs. Kirk bites back a huff of amusement as he sees the shock on his best friend's face at his flexibility, before freezing at the words that come out of his mouth next.

"And where exactly do you think you're going?" You tilt your head to the side and frown as you see your best friend pause in the middle of reaching for his pants.

"Come back to bed, we've got like three more hours until we're kicked out of here and you guys are back out on the road." You lightly instruct, your heart beginning to feel heavy as you catch sight of the insecure expression on Kirk's face. You lightly tap on Jason's shoulders to flip you two over once he carefully removes himself from inside of you, and you go to sit up on his chest to gain some height, smiling down at him gratefully as his hands encircle themselves around your waist to steady you and keep you upright.

"I don't think you guys have enough space for me in there, or anywhere else." Jason goes to open his mouth to rebut, before stopping as you place a firm hand on his chest, your other reaching out for Kirk to grab onto. Once he hesitantly walks on over, you entangle your fingers with his and delicately tug him back into bed, and into yours and Jason's welcoming arms.

"For you, there's always room for more."

Follow My Lead ⭒ Cliff Burton

You wince as the front door is loudly slammed to a close behind you, eyes wide as you glance over at James and Lars sprawled out on a rickety couch only a few feet away, almost already fully inebriated and looking high out of their minds. They loudly greet you with slowly raising arms and maniac waving hands, and you send them a panicked grin before gesturing at them to lower their voices. The guitar case in your arms and pressed against your upper half weighs you down as you try to shuffle as carefully as you can through the ever-growing crowd, purposefully keeping your head down to hide your face from your boyfriend, his melodic laughter audible and near enough to make you attempt to move at an even faster pace.

You let out a sigh of relief once you get halfway through the packed living and dining room and see the familiar hallway in your line of sight, only to jolt in fright as a hand encircles itself around your arm from behind and gently turns you around.

"Thought it was you! Walking around like Samara from The Ring," Kirk greets and teases, his grin turning into a wide smile as he registers what you're trying to hide. "Holy shit, is that what I think it is?" You smile despite your worry of being seen, your best friend's energy contagious and enough to help you partially calm down. You nod and let out a laugh as he shakes his head in disbelief, immediately following behind you as you continue your way to Cliff's bedroom.

Kirk discards his half empty beer bottle on the nearest flat surface and uses his newly freed hand to grasp onto and lift the upper half of the case, nodding off the grateful look you send his way. "Think he'll lose his shit once he sees it?" You ask, hiding your nervousness behind a halfhearted, mirthful upturn of lips. Kirk lets out a scoff and helps you place the present on the carpeted floor safely in front of your boyfriend's door, stepping aside as you lean forward to test the handle. You temporarily close your eyes in relief as it slides open, the musky and heady scent of his strains and cologne greeting you and welcoming you in warmly as you take a step inside.

"Think if he doesn't cry or pass out on the spot, I'll take it as a gift instead," you let out a bout of laughter as you flick the nearest light switch upward and glance down the hallway once more, before bending down to carefully maneuver the guitar case into a standing position. "He brings this specific guitar up every time we go shopping for new equipment, he's going to spaz. No doubt. Where'd you even find this? It's damn near a one of a kind."

You smile to yourself and lightly graze a fingertip over the newly engraved name in the case, sending your best friend a cheeky look once he crouches down beside you to get a better look. "Called in during a radio questionnaire, won, and got a good percentage off from the state store for the personal engraving," you admit, steadying yourself as Kirk curses out loud and tries to call you out for bullshit. "I'm being serious! Maybe you should listen to the radio more often."

"And be stuck listening to bullshit repeats, and commercials about hemorrhoid cream? I'm good," you bite back a laugh at his absurdity and jab your elbow against his, letting out a huff as he shoves you back with just as much force and nearly sends you off kilter. "Let's get this inside before his birthday party is over, and he's too smacked off his tits to realize how much of a big deal this is."

You nod along to his words and take a deep breath, smiling to yourself as you two pick up and place the present on Cliff's unruly and unmade bed. Kirk sends you a half tipsy thumbs up and tosses an arm over your shoulders once you two make it back outside and into the hallway.

"Don't worry about it, he'll love it. And if he doesn't, you can give it to me. I accept second-hand things."

"Kirk!" "I'm kidding! Mostly."

⭒

All of the nervousness and anticipatory anxiety thrumming through you, vanishes as soon as Cliff's laughter and joyous cadence is back in earshot. Kirk squeezes your arm and wishes you good luck, before sliding over to a rowdy and drunken group and tunneling down the contents handed to him in a solo cup. Arms encircle themselves around you as you watch him finish it in one go, the familiar scent of natural musk and smoke invading your senses and engulfing itself around you like a flame, as you cheer him on.

Brown, curly hair tickles the side of your neck as Cliff places a delicate kiss to your shoulder blade and guides you around to fully face him. Green and blown wide eyes beam down at you with a smile to match, and you can't help but wrap your arms around him and bring him even closer. Denim blue bell bottom jeans brush against your bare ankles as you rest your chin upon his chest and look up at him with love-filled eyes.

"There's my girl," he announces, the loud tone in his voice now gone and replaced with something much softer, private. Callous laden fingers and knuckles glide their way across and down your hips and back, and you have to force your eyes to stay open as your boyfriend speaks up again. "Where'd you go? You got all of this prepared for me, and you almost missed out on us cutting the cake."

You hum dismissively, temporarily removing yourself to look down and hold back a delighted and luminescent smile and laugh. "Brought something from outside in for you, is all. No big deal." Cliff purses his lips and nods resolutely, before shaking his head and lifting you off of your feet and the floor beneath you.

"Sounds like bullshit to me. You've always been such a terrible liar," he laughs brightly as you scramble to grab ahold of his jacket and let out a sound of shock. "You aren't as subliminal as I think you wish to be and think you are, baby," a loud smack of an amused kiss is pressed to your pouting lips once you're raised high enough to be near the same height as him, your own pair immediately latching onto his and bringing him into a legitimate kiss before he can pull away. Cliff exhales blissfully after you two disconnect, his once large eyes now hooded and his arms securely pressing the entirety of you to his front. "Want to tell me what you were carrying in, or should I start guessing?" Your heart flutters at the content and at peace tone in his voice.

You border your arms around his neck and let out a faux sigh of defeat. "Follow me to the bedroom and I'll show you." A red hue makes its way to your cheeks as you take in your own words, sending Cliff a playful look of warning as his expression perks up with newfound interest. Your boyfriend reaches down to lightly pat you on your ass, before muttering out, "You will never have to repeat that sentence to me twice, ever."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." You retort back, unserious, your feet making contact with his shins as he walks you two through the crowd, before you raise your legs to encase them around his waist. Large and calloused palms rest on the precipice of the back of your upper thighs, and you squeal as a pinch is placed right underneath your backside. Cliff presses his smile against the top of your head and pulls you in even closer.

"Right."

⭒

"Close your eyes!" You insist once you two make it back to his bedroom door, reaching up to try and place a hand in his line of sight much more of a struggle for you at your natural height. Cliff grins widely down at you and interlaces his fingers with yours instead, backing you up against the door and brushing your hair away from your eyes with his free hand.

"I don't see what the big deal is, you've already thrown me a party. But whatever it is, I'll love it, because it's coming from you." You rest the back of your head on the wooden door behind you as a kiss is placed on your forehead, to try and placate you.

"It's the guitar we saw and found on our first date," you start, watching with satisfaction as he pauses his ministrations and realization dawns on him. Baby hairs fall back into their previous placement and tickle at your temples, as your boyfriend takes a step back to look at you in shock. "The white one, electric. The one you said felt perfect in your hands? The one that was auctioned off and sold a week later, the one you said you'll always save up and try to find, because it meant something to you. Meant something to the both of us."

"The one I said I'd play a song for you on if I could ever afford it," Cliff whispers, his eyes glassy as he looks down at you in amazement, his hands unfreezing at his sides to come up and cup your chin. You grin in his grip and hold onto his wrists as he shakes his head. "There's no way you found it, at least the exact same one. Babe, that was years ago, and the buyer said he lived out of state."

You place a hand on his chest to gently maneuver him backwards a few steps, before twisting your arm behind your back to push his bedroom door open. Stepping aside, you nod your head to the left and gently tug him forward. "Take a look for yourself." Cliff's eyes widen as a familiar and long, slightly battered guitar case comes into view, it's russet brown and black finish starkly standing out against and on top of his lightly colored linen. His footsteps are heavy and nearly dragged as he makes his way over to the bed, his eyes enlarged with wonder and awe.

Cliff turns to look at you in disbelief, before leaning forward to peer at the engraving now permanently etched in the case. 'Clifford Lee Burton, for you and for us' Tears sting his eyes as he rereads it fervently, none of this night feeling real to him. "How the hell were you able to pull this off?"

You shrug and walk over to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he carefully opens up the case. You both gape as if it was the first time seeing it, the strings looking brand new and refurbished and its white paint and coating looking as it if had never once been touched. "I won a questionnaire on the radio, and here we are."

"The hemorrhoid one?" Cliff asks you, laughter bubbling up in his tone and pouring out as you look at him exasperatedly. "Yes, babe. The hemorrhoid one." You can't help but laugh with him as well, your body feeling light and you feeling at home and at ease with your partner.

You glance up as he readjusts the electric guitar back into its casing and turns to look at you, his expression unreadable. "So, you called into a radio station and took time out of your day, because the guitar they were speaking about sounded familiar and like the one we saw on our first date, over two years ago?" at your nod of confirmation, he continues, his tone turning incredulous. "And you went out of you way to go and get it, got its case engraved, and then surprised me with a birthday party?"

You look at him in confusion, before nodding again. "Yeah, I did. What's the big deal? We always surprise each other on our birthday's." Cliff shakes his head and looks away momentarily, before crossing over to the other side of his room and grabbing ahold of a guitar strap. You watch as he carefully picks up the new piece of equipment and attaches the strap to the back of it, your confusion turning into endearment as he tunes the guitar like it's second nature.

"I don't know how good acoustic is going to sound on an electric guitar, but we can figure it out," Cliff voices out distractedly, somehow still being able to reach out and guide you towards his bed to sit comfortably as he gets everything set up and together. "Our song might sound like shit, but the sentiment is still there."

Your eyes begin to tear up once the first string is strung, moving over to make space as your boyfriend sits down next to you and gently raises your hand to place it on top of his. "Just follow my lead." He instructs, not knowing his words would kickstart you back to an even older memory, before your very own first date.

"I need you to hold onto my hand and kick forward." Cliff says to you in a gentle tone, looking over his shoulder to send a glare to the rest of your guys' mutual friends as someone lets out a laugh.

You stare up at him with wide eyes, a stray tear making its way down your cheek as your legs unsteadily shake underneath you and on top of the skateboard. "I don't think I can do this, maybe this was a bad idea."

Your best friend shakes his head at you adamantly, before reaching forward to place his hands on top of yours and squeezes them reassuringly, his steady grip enough to stabilize you and give you enough courage to keep pushing forward and to try again. "Just follow my lead," he promises. "I won't let you fall."

You nod and squeeze your eyes shut, your heart incessantly pounding erratically in your chest as you feel the wheels begin to move forward again. Warm and larger palms keep you steady and safe the entire time, and once you open your eyes again, your friends are no longer laughing, and you officially made it to the end of the landing.

"You did it!" Your best friend exclaims, putting his foot in between yours so it would be safe enough for you to step off and jump onto the even and unmoving concrete. You shake your head and keep one of his hands on top of yours as you two make your way back over. "No, we did it." Cliff smiles down at you as you hold your head up triumphantly and hold onto his hand even prouder. "Yeah," he murmurs to himself. "We did."

You close your eyes as each string vibrates and bends back into place beneath your guys' fingertips, the song still as beautiful on an electric as it would be on an acoustic. Your boyfriend's steady and warm breath heats up the side of your neck as he strums with you, and a delicate smile lifts your lips as his chin goes to rest on your relaxed shoulder. Once the song is done, you turn your head to the side and give him a passionate kiss, holding in a petal of laughter as Cliff lets out a soft sound of surprise against your upturned lips.

"What was that for?" He asks, resting the guitar on his middle and lap and encapsulating you in his arms. You move over until your side is clad with his, and simply say, "Because I love you." "I love you too."

Cliff smiles, his waterline set anew as he looks down at you and places his hands on top of yours. You rest your head on the middle of his bicep and reach down to pinch at his thigh, a cheeky grin on your face as he lets out a resounding yelp.

"For the pinch by my ass earlier," you chortle out before he can even open his mouth. "Next year, I'm getting you the hemorrhoid cream." Cliff bellows out a hysterical laugh and leans back on the bed, letting out a sarcastic oof as your upper half lands on his lap from his spontaneous movement.

"Want to go cut the cake?" He asks you, a grin nearly splitting his face in half at your next words. You move from his lap to stand up from the bed and offer him a hand, once the guitar is placed safely back onto the bed and the strap is removed.

"Just follow my lead."

Counterproductive Tendencies ✩ James Hetfield

Part zero of multiple

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

"God only knows what I put you through, and everything you'd allow me to do. You tried to build me into the man you've always dreamed of, what more could you have expected me to do? We'll push and pull and bend and break, until we're both red and blue. And at the end of every drunken and blood-spilled night, I'll somehow find my way on back home to you."

From first hellos to multiple attempted goodbyes, to unordain murmured vows and multitudinous miles on the road. From unshed and held back tears, to widened smiles and promises to start anew. This is where everything begins, and where it coincidingly ends.

This is yours and James' story.

Counterproductive Tendencies ✩ James Hetfield

⭒ introductory, part two, part three, part four ⭒ (wordcount: 7.9k)

Part one of multiple: Bottle Caps and Rugburn (16+)

Mentions/Warnings: drug use, sexual suggestion

Ephemeral clouds temporarily obscure your already altered line of vision as you hesitantly trudge forward and off your shared front porch, the huff of uneasiness you let out nearly inaudible as your roommates continuously complain from behind you. You shakily exhale as the bottom of your right, overworn and half shoved on tennis shoe snags on a rough side of uneven pavement, and you attempt to unsteadily stabilize yourself with a blind hand in front of you. Relief floods through you as you feel your palm slide against and make contact with the large tree you remember to be in front of your newly assigned home and dormitory, your fingers bending inward to grip onto its damp curvature as you testily circle your ankle back and forth.

"Don't tell me you've already injured yourself, before you could go and tell our neighbors off for keeping us up until two in the morning." A voice from the still partially warm entrance of the front door teasingly drawls, causing your already squinting eyes to fall shut with barely concealed annoyance and exhaustion.

"Kept you five up, actually. I happened to have already been sleeping just fine," you respond dryly, kicking your foot back down and skidding it up to where your other one balances your weight, once you're sure it won't tense or strain. The thick material of your sock makes a soft, padded sound once it makes rough contact with the sole of your shoe, and you twist your upper half to peer back at the partially huddled group of women surrounding the highest step. "Why am I the one to go and talk to these guys, anyway? I've never even met them."

"You just answered your own question," another one rasps out, her hands gripping onto a thick blanket covering her broad and caving in shoulders, the tip of her nose bright red from the invasive and domineering wind. "They've never met you, which means that they'll give you even less shit than they usually give us. Fresh meat and all. Even assholes like them won't slam a door in your face the first time."

The eldest of the group sends you a small and almost genuine smile, before leaning forward on the side railing to raise a hand and gesture for you to keep moving forward and across the street. "They aren't as bad as they sound. They offered us beer once."

"Yeah, and then egged our house-" "Well, that was because one of you guys called the police, and they showed up right after we knocked on their door to talk to them about the noise-" "I told you we should've just stayed home that night. Now they know we're snitches. We told on them; we're fucking narcs."

You wince as a small pulse of pain travels to each one of your temples and down to the middle of your forehead, the one bright light on the side of the porch glaring its way into your peripheral vision as you wearily look up at the girls. You slowly blink to gather moisture for your sore and dry eyes and breathe out a quiet sound of disbelief as they continue to mindlessly talk over each other, before turning yourself back around to face the tree and throwing a halfhearted wave behind your goosebump-ridden back.

You ignore the increased volume in their voices as you do so and carefully make your way over and down the uneven pavement and curb, your face and bare lower legs numbing as the frosty air envelopes itself over your underdressed form.

You glance around and quickly begin to make your way over to a much larger and nicer house once you discover it to be the source of the loud music and barreling cheers, beer caps audibly crunching underneath your fast paced feet as soon as you make your first few steps onto the stranger's property. You make yourself walk impossibly faster to the half-shut front door, refusing to allow your anxiety to stop you from helping your roommates hopefully get some sleep and for them to finally shut up.

Before you can even reach forward to push the door open wider and take a step inside, it comes whipping open and loudly collides with the wall behind it, causing you to jump in fright and lean back as a man around your age peers down at you with unhidden interest, his eyes comically wide and concerningly bloodshot.

"If anyone asks you about that, you'll tell them it wasn't me, right? Dickheads already had me pay out of pocket for the last time someone cannonballed through our glass table, and it wasn't even me! It was some blonde chick who chugged too much during a keg stand and couldn't handle her lager."

You send him a confused thumbs up, his accent too thick and slurred for you to be able to discern the words tumbling out of his mouth. You can't help but cheer up as he sends you a wide and overenthusiastic grin at your agreeance, and a cold, already opened beer can is being pressed into your already tingling palms before you can even decline.

"For not being a dick about the damage I'm doing to my own property." He explains, his eyebrows raising as your facial expression morphs into animated relief.

"This is your place? Thank God, I thought I'd be looking around all night until I found you," you speedily breathe out, the man now leaning against the doorway and looking at you in drunken shock, as if he wasn't speaking even faster than you seconds before. "My roommates woke me up and pressured me to come over and ask you to turn the music down."

The man's expression quickly drops and almost turns mean, seemingly freezing midway into a grimace as he takes in your uncomfortable posture and tense shoulders. "You were put up to this?" He asks you skeptically, reaching out to take back the beer once he sees you raise your hands up to your mouth to blow hot air on your already windblown, red streaked knuckles and palms.

"I can sleep like the dead. My roommates, not so much," you admit, some of your anxiousness melting away as you watch his face crumple with understanding. "Said I'm fresh meat and you wouldn't be as rude to me as you usually are to them, at least on my first trip over here."

"So, they had you come over to a stranger's house, during a large party at two thirty in the morning, to confront your neighbors, who you were told were hostile and unwelcoming? On your probably, very first week of living there?" At your nod, the man shakes his head in disbelief, before studying you with an inquisitive look and nodding his head in the direction of the ongoing party behind himself.

"Come on in. I'll get you something warmer to wear, and I'll get my even less than shitty roommates to introduce themselves to you," he sends you a cheeky look and makes sure you're following him before moving forward and even further inside. "We won't give you shit this time, only if you didn't call the cops before coming over here first."

A loud bout of drunken laughter petals itself out of the man guiding you inside, and you take in a deep breath, before walking toward and into the large mass of strangers and their inebriated shouts and movements.

"Fuck it." You murmur to yourself, only looking back to see if your roommates were still waiting for you outside. A frown makes its way to your lips once you see that the side porch's light is now off, and the front door is now fully closed.

"Name's Lars, by the way," he nearly shouts at you as you two make it to a staircase, lightly gripping your elbow after you're nearly toppled over by rough and incessant, dance-powered shoves. "I've got a friend's room you can change in, don't worry." You nod despite your nerves and quickly match your footsteps with his as you two make your way up the stairs. You glance out a large set of windows in the hallway and allow your eyes to drink in the ever-growing amount of people dancing outside in the freezing cold air, their heads thrown back and laughter pouring out of them, careless of the wind and everything to all intents and purposes, trying to knock them off their feet. As you're handed an oversized white dress shirt, and a slightly larger than usual pair of jeans and left alone to change, you crouch down to sit on the carpeted floor and force yourself to suck in a much needed and trembling breath. You momentarily close your eyes, before sliding them back open and shoving your flimsy shirt over your head, your hair coming loose from its confines of an earlier and secure ponytail.

So much for a warm welcome and a new start.

⭒

A quiet curse pillows its way out of your pursed lips as you cup your ear and clumsily make your way onto your knees, your stray hairs tickling the sides of your face as you search for your missing earring and stud. Your socked feet nearly slide out from underneath you as you bring yourself down and use your elbows as leverage, closing one eye to look underneath the bed only a foot away from you.

"Oh, come on. You've got to be here somewhere." You whisper out hopelessly, a sound of defeat reverberating in your chest once you're unable to find it beneath the lifted mattress. You let out a groan and allow your arms to let up, the bottom of the dress shirt nearly covering you from the mid-thigh up, lifting as you flop on the floor and land on top of the discarded pair of ripped jeans. You lift your head to rest it on top of your clasped hands and freeze in place as your eyes make contact with bright blue eyes, already looking down at you.

Wavy, dirty blonde hair cascades and rests against beautifully scarred and dimpled skin, accompanied with red and plush lips, them already curved up in a bewildered yet amused grin. Black jeans accentuate long, muscled legs, and a band tee is stretched out against a toned and taut torso. A jean jacket is splayed across sculpted and fully formed biceps, and you have to force yourself to not let out a sound of humiliation as the stranger takes their time drinking in your form.

You can't stop your body from jolting as the man speaks out in the heady air, and your eyes narrow as he chortles out a gentle and mirthful sounding laugh. You push yourself up into a sitting position, your spread legs instinctively curling up underneath you and ankles tightly linking together as you intentionally avert your wide eyes and stare down at the embroidered carpet instead.

"As much as I truly don't mind the view, why exactly are you wearing my only dress shirt, and why are you sprawled out in my room? On the floor, specifically?" You try not to seem affected by the smooth and comforting cadence of his tone, willing yourself to swallow thickly and clear your voice before answering him.

"I didn't want to invade your privacy by getting into your bed without your permission," You blurt out, immediately regretting your choice of words as you take them in yourself. Before the man standing in the doorway can ask you any more questions, you rush to continue. "Lars brought me up here, told me to dress more warmly. This was the first thing I saw when I walked into your closet. I really didn't mean to intrude."

The blue-eyed man's expression insurmountably softens once he notices how out of place and hesitant and nervous you look, going as far to take a step further back from entering his own room to give you more space. He goes to open his mouth to reassure you, before momentarily freezing in place. "Wait, you're here with Lars?" He asks you, his jaw almost slack with shock.

You shake your head adamantly, for some reason having a strong urge to reassure the stranger that you came here on your own and with no one else. "I hate to be the one to tell you, sweetheart, but you could do a lot better. Gremlin can't even admit to breaking his own shit, imagine how he'd treat you," you can't help but catch onto the softness in his tone as he teasingly speaks about his friend, his adoration apparent even as he playfully speaks ill of him. "How about we get some pants on you, and we can sneak you out of here before he realizes you're gone?"

His smile is contagious, and you can't help but temporarily mirror his expression, the frown only coming back to your face once you fully take in your predicament. The man sees your face fall, and he decidedly enters the room and slowly makes his way over to you, sitting down next to you but leaves enough distance for you to still feel comfortable and in your own space.

"What's going on in there, doll?" He asks you and points to your head, his tone surprisingly gentle and in contrast of his clothing, which is emanating the smell of cheap whiskey and half rubbed off cologne. You watch as his hands rise and come to reach out and comfort you, only to stop midway and land on the carpet in between the two of you instead, the rings on his fingers catching light and creating artificial rays up to the top of his high ceiling.

"I don't think I can go back to my place tonight, not without waking up my dormmates and pissing them off even further. The only reason I came over here was to ask for you guys to keep it down, on their behalf," you pause as recognition and distaste culminates on his face, and you sigh and reiterate what you said to Lars earlier, once again. "I was already sleeping, but they woke me up to come over here. They said I was fresh meat, and that you wouldn't treat me as shitty as you've treated them."

An array of emotions temporarily shuffle themselves on the handsome man's face beside you, the emotion he soon settles on being incredulity. He makes sure to maintain eye contact with you before he goes to speak, his fingertips digging themselves into the fabric of the carpet to stop himself from reaching out for you again.

"The only reason we've ever given them shit; was because of the way they came off towards us first. The first time they came over, it was two years ago, and we were celebrating an album release. There was still natural light outside, and it was in the middle of the summer. And they come barging in through our door and threatening to call the police, said their summer studies were more important than whatever we felt like we needed to celebrate for. Spoke to us like we were shit, and when we decided to play music for the first time again a few weeks later, they came back again, only this time with the police," an amused smile tugs his lips upward, and your chest flutters at the sight. "So maybe we smoked a little too much one night, crossed the street and pegged their shit with frozen eggs and blast music a little too loudly when we aren't supposed to. Doesn't mean we're any less than them or any better, also doesn't mean that gives them the right to come over to ours, threaten us, and then talk to us like we're shit."

"Treats other's how you wish to be treated." You murmur, your eyes zeroing in on his and watching as his pupils dilate as he looks back at you. He nods back as if he's in a trance, his fingertips stretching out to brush against yours. This time, you reach forward and slide your own through the delicate and soft fabric, your first knuckles colliding with his. Yours still red, and his ring laden and a pale pink.

Music and shared laughter creates its own traveling sound up the stairs and into his bedroom, yet you two seem undisturbed and unbothered, as it attempts to blanket itself and tries to add on to the comfortable silence the two of you created. "What's your name?" You can't help but ask, a dazed and content look coinciding on both of your expressions as you do so, his thumbs rising from the carpet to brush against yours in a delicate caress.

"James." He simply answers, and your lips raise with the simplicity of it.

"Fitting." You muse, shifting your legs to stretch them out, a light blush dusting your cheeks as your socked feet make contact with his closest thigh. Footsteps traipse themselves up the stairs and pause near the entrance of James' room, and you both let out a laugh as Lars' head hesitantly pops in through the side of the doorway.

The relief on his face is both palpable, and shit-eating all at once. "Looks like I gave you the right room to change in after all," he begins, pleased. "Enough of the chit chat shit. I've got three hundred people downstairs close to passing out, but they're still begging for shots, and I've got three other band members curious about what kind of girl is special enough to keep James away from the alcohol for so long."

The shorter band member ducks down fast enough to miss the tennis shoe coming his way, letting out a hysterical laugh as it flies past him and parachutes down the flight of stairs instead, a resounding shout of muffled pain coming from the bottom of it.

You all share a mutual look of shock, before bursting into laughter. Tears spring to your eyes, and it's hard for you to decipher if they're actually from amusement or from relief. Relief from being around two now named strangers, who seem to be more welcoming to you than your own roommates, who promised to take you in and treat you well. Relief from having to hold back laughter, so you wouldn't be too loud and interrupt a study session, or an afternoon nap.

A ringed hand holds itself out to you once you stop laughing and lightly wipe at your eyes, your own widening as you realize the two of them must be waiting for you. You quickly take ahold of James' hand and avoid Lars' cheeky gaze, the large and calloused palm holding your hand currently helping to keep your own warm.

A shiver travels its way down your spine and goosebumps reappear on your lower legs as you're helped to stand upright, a light breath of laughter coming to life in between you two as you nearly slide from your socks again. Using James' unyielding and firm grasp on your hand for assistance, you squat down to grab ahold of the oversized denim that was offered to you earlier, and shyly wave the pair of jeans in the air near your decently covered chest. "Can you two turn around real quick?" You ask quietly, guilt overcoming you as you appear to provisionally put them out of getting back to their party once again. Lars turns around to face the doorway as soon as you finish your sentence, and James quickly walks over to the door and kicks it shut once you're fully stood back up and his shirt falls back down into place to bracket and cover your upper thighs.

You walk with caution in your socks over to the bed and lean against the bottom frame, before yanking them off entirely and shoving each of your bare feet through the larger legs of the denim. A sound of amusement tears itself out of your chest as you grip onto the waistband of them with both of your hands, and you call out for them to turn back around and see for themselves. Lars lets out a snort and James looks at you with a small smile, before exhaling a breathy chuckle and nodding his head towards his best friend. "You might be better off borrowing a pair of his, since he's closer to you in height and size."

You raise a hand to hide a laugh behind your palm as Lars lets out a half stilted, indignant sound, his bloodshot eyes staring up at his bandmate with unhidden betrayal and his hands coming up to hold onto his hips. "I'll have you know I still get plenty of chicks, short stature and all." You watch as James vehemently nods and runs a hand down his back, before reaching forward and reopening his bedroom door. Lars squares his shoulders and slides through the partial opening, only momentarily pausing to throw his head back to the side to send you both a playful glare. You can't help the wide smile that spreads your lips, the lighthearted sound escaping James' own making it even harder for you to hold back and hide your joviality.

"Is he always like this?" You ask, tired laughter chortling through you as James halfheartedly raises a hand to slowly shake it back and forth.

"Only since '81, when I met him." Your guys' joint amusement delicately turns back into comfortable silence, and the wide smile on your lips melts into a bashful grin. James watches you as you shift your weight on each foot and duck your head, tendrils of loose locks hiding your soft features from his various glimpses of you.

James twists his hand around the doorknob and almost nervously licks his lips. "I'm kind of glad your asshole roommates sent you over here," he starts, his breath stuttering in his chest as you lift your head back up to look at him. "I don't think we would have met if you wouldn't have been." His sentence ends in a near whisper, and your grip on your pants loosens, your fully covered feet making their way over to him on autopilot. You pause mid step, you two now only a breath of a distance away from each other.

"I don't know about that," you murmur, your eyes darting down to his parted lips, your own still lifted and feeling light. "I still think I would have made my way on over to you. To the both of you- all of you, I guess." A light blush dusts your cheeks as you stammer, and James nearly jumps as Lars suddenly reappears, his eyebrows raised and his reddened eyes knowing and glinting.

"Let's get you looking even more mismatched and fucked up for downstairs." He sarcastically cheers, sending a soft smile your way as he places a comfortable looking pair of sweatpants and non-slip socks in your awaiting hands. You thank him and let out a sigh of relief as they turn around to face the door again. You secure the sweats with the drawstring and tuck the bottom half of the dress shirt into the waistline, before bending down to carefully slide on the socks.

"Just to let you know, James has his own bathroom attached to his bedroom and it's only a few feet away." You look up at the sound of an audible slap and yelp, a laugh bellowing out of you as you watch James fluster and shake his head in disbelief. He quickly glances at you once you notify them you're fully dressed, his eyes wide with panic and his plush lips set in a frown. You lightly tap him on the shoulder and grin up at him, letting him know it was alright.

"I- we only stayed in the room because you asked for us to turn around," he excuses, his eyes meeting yours and his tone of voice lowering. "I didn't think you'd be comfortable with me leaving you alone, with such a big party going on downstairs. Anyone could have walked in, and I. I wanted to make sure you were alright." His best friend tosses his head down and hides a grin at his bandmate's uncharacteristic shy tone and body language. You look up at him in silent awe and slowly reach forward to squeeze his hand in thanks, your eyes widening as he instead twists his hand around to securely hold onto yours. Lars glances down at your joined hands and theatrically sighs, before yanking the rest of the door open, not even flinching as it bounces off the wall behind it and James curses him out loud.

"And that was your fault, because you didn't listen to me when I spoke to you guys about the protectant foam plaster," he accuses, his tone sharp but his words light. Lars sends you both an impatient look, before stepping out of the room and beckoning you guys' forward. "You ready to try out a black tooth grin?"

"What exactly is a black tooth grin?" You hesitantly ask, your expression turning cautious as James and Lars smile in unison and don't answer.

"Let's get fucked up, you fucks." Lars sighs out as you three eventually make your way back downstairs, the curse words in his sentence sounding like terms of endearment. You peer up at James once you step off the last stair and onto the bright and chilled tile, hesitantly squeezing his hand before delicately disentangling yours to let go.

"Are you sure it's alright for me to stay the night?" You nearly whisper, the current crowd around you making you feel completely out of your element and uneasy.

James' fingers firmly tighten around yours, before properly engulfing your digits with his, his bright blue eyes looking down at you intently, but gently at the same time.

"You are more than welcome, sweetheart." Lars' head snaps towards you two, and for a moment, you instinctively expect him to decline the offer or disagree. Instead, he sends you both a mirthful, wide shit-eating grin.

"Sweetheart. Fitting." He muses, over the top. James raises a hand to smack him on the back of the head, but he moves too quickly out of the way. "Cheeky, little eavesdropping shit." James mutters to himself, the wide and elated grin on his face counterproductive to the rough tone in his voice. You squeeze his hand reassuringly, smiling up at him as he beams down at you.

"Let's get fucked up, you fucks." You mimic without imitating your new friend's accent, biting back a laugh as James raises an eyebrow and lifts his arm to guide you toward the table full of alcohol. Your eyes widen as a multitude of unknown and already half empty bottles greet you on a table nearly ten feet long, so many bottles on it that they nearly slide off with each step you two take forward. Three pairs of inquisitive eyes make their way on over to you as you step forward to stand alongside James, the awkward smile on your face endearing enough to make them grin back at you and drunkenly introduce themselves. You turn your head to watch as James pours a copious amount of whisky and coke into a solo cup, grabbing a handful of ice and dropping it inside of the concoction before handing it over to you. You wince at the burn during your first sip, but grin as the sweetness of the soda soothes it soon after. James guides you over to a vacant seat once you finish greeting his friends and nearly has you sitting in his lap, letting out a physical laugh against your back as you playfully ask him if he could make you something stronger once you down your first drink.

"Oh, sweetheart. You're going to regret saying that to me, of all people."

⭒

"I just don't think you'd want me on your team is all," you drawl out tipsily, your movements feeling more at ease as you share a secretive smile with Cliff over the edge of your bottle. "I'm not that good at beer pong. Wouldn't want to slow you down or make you lose the game." James narrows his eyes at you as pitters of laughter follow soon after your words, before tossing back the rest of his drink and hastily standing up.

"Alright then. Jason, Kirk, you're with me." he announces, his own tone dazed but still energized. You bite back a laugh as you watch him partially stumble over to a cluttered table and attempt to shove all of its used contents into the nearest trash bin, him missing nearly ninety percent of it and the rest just narrowly making its way inside. You and Lars stand up at the same time and share a wild grin, you quickly following suit of him filling up solo cups and placing them in their assigned spots. Cliff makes his way over and stands in the middle of your side of the pool table, with Lars to his right and you to his left. Thick wafts of smoke encircle themselves around your head and give you a mild second hand high, as he simultaneously sucks on the handmade filter of a backwoods pre-rolled blunt and places his part of the betting money on the side of the table closest to Kirk.

"I saw you make those three beer bottles in that trash can ten feet away an hour ago. You make those same shots with these ping pong balls, we split the money evenly and you'll have something to tease James about," Cliff whispers to you, voice muffled as he inhales a large puff of marijuana mixed with nicotine and allows it to expel out of his nostrils. He shoots an innocent looking smile to James as he watches you two from across the table, his calloused fingertips teasing the precipice of his cup and his eyes rarely straying away from you. Your lips lift even higher as the two of you make eye contact, a blush making permanent dormancy on the apples of your cheeks as an uncontrollable smile lifts his own. You force yourself to look away as Cliff continues to speak. "Although I don't think that'll be a problem. You could miss every point and we'd still probably win; with the way he can't stop looking at you."

"Just stand there and send him a smile every few minutes, why don't you." Lars adds, ducking forward as you try to reach behind Cliff and hit him on his back.

"Just for that, I'm going to try and beat your highest score," you playfully threaten, your eyes lazily rolling to the side as your newly acquired friend cries out a childish ooh. You shift closer to Cliff and begin to pay attention as the game starts on James' side. "Is it dumb of me to feel bad for lying to him about not being good at beer pong?" You quietly ask him, your voice nearly inaudible over the few drunks staying the night and the rest of party goers slowly making their way out and home, their loud declarations of them having a good time making your ears ring. Cliff sends you an inquisitive look, before raising an eyebrow and lowering down his ashtray, his lip ticking upward on the side as Lars curses out loud and lifts up another solo cup. Kirk smirks and leans against the pool table, his slightly crooked middle finger reaching past the few cups left on their side to greet his best friend with his digit.

"I think it's nice of you to feel guilty for something as small as lying about not being good at beer pong. It shows the good in you," he pauses mid answer as he bounces his ball towards the largest cup on the opposite side of the table, his side smirk turning into a full-blown grin as Kirk huffs and hesitantly lifts up the goblet full of vodka. Cliff lightly nudges you with his elbow until you loosen up and breathe out a soft chuckle. "As long as you don't lie about serious shit and you treat him well, then you have nothing to worry about."

You hum, before stopping in place and shooting your eyes upward to quizzically look at him. "Was that a subtle threat?" You ask him, impressed and amused as he gives you an overexaggerated once over and throws his ball without even looking. As you gape and watch as his ball catches along the side of the rim of the cup and lands in the plastic alcoholic beverage with ease, Cliff sends James a wink and passes you a ball from the half empty bucket beside you.

"Your turn."

You take a deep breath and push his half assed response to the back of your mind, the heels of your heavily socked feet lifting from the ground as you toss your ping pong ball over to their side of the table. You close your eyes and hold back a wince as silence envelops everyone around you, before jumping in shock as Lars reaches over past Cliff and grips your shoulders with a loud cheer. "You double tapped, which means someone has to drink from both cups, and you get another shot," a small, celebratory smile makes its way to your lips, it quickly turning into a small, mirthful smirk as James picks up both cups and pours them into one. "Drink it and weep, bitch."

James sends Lars a dirty look, before tossing the half-filled cup of beer back in a few large gulps, a grimace etched in his facial features as he bitterly swallows the room temperature lager. "Last time I checked, you and Kirk sucked ass the last four times we played and nearly gave yourselves alcohol poisoning."

Kirk lets out a resounding groan, the goblet nearly toppling over as he blindly drops it back down on the table, his forearms immediately wrapping themselves around his middle once both of his hands are free. "Don't talk about that, man. I'll throw up just from thinking about it," you send him a sympathetic look and toss him your spare elastic, nodding back at him as he shouts out a drunken thank you and haphazardly ties up his hair. "I think I might need to forfeit. Some crazy shit is going on down there."

Jason perks up and from his tired stupor on the side of the table, his eyes already half closed, and his arms open wide enough for Kirk to fall into. Kirk lets out a sigh of relief once he's embraced and able to lean against something that isn't an inanimate object, blindly reaching up to pat on his bandmate's curly hair in gratitude. "Sounds good to me, I've got another gig in the afternoon and the smell of Yuengling is getting to me."

Lars lets out an elongated yawn and Cliff nods to himself, before turning to you and tilting his head towards a downtrodden looking James. You speak up before you have the chance to second guess it, wanting and craving to see the youthful smile on his face once again.

"You and me," you propose, feeling shy as the rest of the guys pause their slow movements and look over at you. You keep your eyes trained on James, his blue irises reigniting and lighting up with your next words, his hands halting in the process of collecting the still filled cups. "Whoever double taps or gets the next two shots in a row, wins. Whoever loses owes the winner something."

James unfurls and realigns the cups in their original positions, sending you a cheeky grin as you teasingly toss a ping pong ball back and forth in between your cupped hands. "So, what do you say?"

"You know, sweetheart. A lucky double tap or two during a 3v3 doesn't necessarily mean you're going to be able to win against or beat me." Your jaw ticks as he proudly waits for your response, his ringed fingers curling around the thick edges of wood in anticipation for your response.

You take a deep breath and steady yourself, before simply saying, "Get ready to lose, big boy."

⭒

A wide grin lifts your entire face as you watch James chug down the last gulp in his final solo cup, his eyes displaying his obvious exhaustion and drunkenness as he tosses it down once he's finished. "I can't believe I just lost to a girl." You go to look around for the response from the boys, but grin to yourself once you remember that they all forced themselves to go to sleep about an hour ago.

You let out a laugh of disbelief and set down your half-finished bottle of water, meeting James halfway as he clumsily tries to clean up the mess on the table. "I guess I finally found your flaw." You announce, the second hand high and earlier inebriation slowly easing off and allowing you to feel clearer minded.

James places the garbage bag down and gently grabs ahold of your hands, using them as leverage to tug you forward and into his arms. "And what would that be?" You let out a teasing hum and laugh into his chest as he breathes out an impatient grunt. Taking a step back, you smile as his flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled hair come back into view.

"Not only are you the definition of a sore loser, but you're also misogynistic." You hold back a bout of laughter as he sputters and immediately begins to disagree.

"That's not true," he denies, unclasping one of his hands from yours to tilt your chin up and hold you in place with his thumb and index fingers. You playfully raise an eyebrow and allow yourself to giggle as he continues to vehemently disagree. "I respect you, respected you so much that I didn't even try to look at you while you were changing earlier," James' voice lowers into an unsure whisper, his thumb grazing the soft skin on your jawline. "I wanted to."

Your breath hitches in your chest at his confession, your free hand coming up to encircle itself around his raised wrist. You watch as his eyes deepen in color at your newfound touch, his eyelids starting to look weighed down. "Yeah?" You quietly ask him back, warmth pooling in your groin as he silently nods and ardently looks down at you. "I wanted you to look at me too."

James wets his lips and guides you forward with his grip on your chin, close to the point of your breaths mingling and nearly merging into one. "You said the loser owes the winner something," you dazingly blink and nod up at him, the tips of your toes rubbing against the front of his boots as you step closer, are guided closer. Your eyes hood as he brings himself down to your height, his natural scent and combination of cologne and alcohol enough to make your head feel as if it was swimming. James' thumb lightly tugs at your bottom lip, and you open your mouth obediently, your grip tightening around his wrist as he lets out a shuttered exhale. "Tell me what you want then," he pleads. "I'll give you anything. Just tell me."

You try to tell yourself that it's too soon, that he'll get tired of you once he gets what he wants. But you've never had a man look at you like this before. Not just looking like he wanted you, but wanted to engrave you into him, to make you a permanent by his side. You release his wrist and slide a hand into the thick locks near the nape of his neck and bring him in, impossibly closer, your heart feeling as if it was about to beat and land outside of your chest.

"Kiss me," you gasp into the electrified air, the warm puffs of exhalation of his breaths against you full on stop, before he lets out a sigh of relief and places his lips on top of yours.

Whisky and beer and mixed drinks are what you taste at first, but they all fall behind as his arms lower down to your middle and lift you from the ground, your own arms entangling themselves around his neck and your lips parting as an invitation as he kisses you breathless. Day old stubble brushes against your cupids bow as his tongue testily makes its way into your awaiting mouth, and you moan as he instinctively laps at the roof of your mouth and brings his teeth forward to nip at your bottom lip. You suck on his tongue and caress his with your own, wanting to familiarize yourself with the taste of his appendage and spit.

Your legs rise and wrap around his waist as he grips your flesh so firmly, you know they'll be fingerprints embedded in your skin for days after. You feel him grunt against you as you tug at the hair residing right above his scalp, thick spit trails keeping you both connected as you two part, the coolness in the air from the winter now long gone. Heat curls in your middle, and you have to stop yourself from lowering your sex to rub against his front.

James shudders and licks up the slabs of connective saliva that land on his chin, leaning towards you once more to share the taste, before despairingly disconnecting with you once again.

You both gasp for breath, your chests beating erratically and hands grasping so tightly onto each other that if one of you two were to try and pull away, the other would refuse and tighten their grip. You lean forward to rest your forehead against his and airily breathe in his scent. James' large palms rub their way up and down the spine of your back, and he lets out an adoration filled laugh as you only half successfully hold back a quiet yawn.

"Think I should take you up to the guest room." He murmurs in the silent room around you two, the soft and seemingly all-defining cadence in his tone making your eyelids feel even heavier. You peer up at him through blurry eyes, the exhaustion you felt earlier finally catching up with you now.

"I can't sleep with you?" You tiredly ask, a blood red flush making its way down your chest as James simply raises an eyebrow and rests his hands near the swell of your ass.

"If you come up to my room, the last thing we'll be doing is sleeping," he admits, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks. You absentmindedly lick your lips to chase the taste of him and freeze in place as his mouth impulsively opens for you. James lets out a groan and tosses his head back, his facial expression looking almost pained. His fingertips ground themselves into your backside and you let out a helpless moan, his own cock twitching with interest at the sound you emit. "I want to take my time with you, have to," he whispers in the space between you two. James tilts his head forward and places a gentle kiss to your forehead, before maneuvering you back down on your feet. His hands come down to cradle yours, and he brings them up to his chest. "I've rushed things before and fucked them up, but I don't want to do that with you. There's something special here, and I know you can feel it too."

You nod in agreeance and lightly rub the pads of your fingertips against his almost trembling knuckles. "I do. Of course I do, James." You reassure him gently, wishing to bring yourself back in his arms already.

"Let's take our time with this, figure this shit out and make it work," he says in a more stable tone, your admittance of returning what he felt giving him enough confidence to continue. "And when we figure all this out and everything settles through, the only place you'll be wanting to be at is my bedroom." Your grip tightens around his and you let out a huff of annoyance, a small smile gathering on your kissed red lips as James refuses to let you go as you try to tug your hands away.

"Okay," you agree, your eyelids fluttering shut as he lets go of one of your hands to cradle the side of your face instead. You tiredly reopen them and nearly gasp at the amorous look on his face, his pupils blown wide and the lightest shade of blue you've seen of them yet. "We'll wait and we'll take our time."

James leans back down once more, sliding his lips against yours in a slick and passionate kiss, before forcing himself to let you go and taking a step back. You pulse forward, every fiber in your being craving to be closer to a man you had just barely met, but felt like you already knew. Before you can overthink, a warm hand engulfs yours and gently tugs you forward. You fight back a shiver as a cold waft of air makes its way to your feet underneath the front door as you walk past it, and up the staircase. You let out a shocked bout of laughter as your feet are swept out from underneath you, and you relax against his chest as he carries you the rest of the way to your temporary room.

You hold back a sound of displeasure as you're placed back down and stepped away from again, a door only a few feet away from his a few inches away from you now. You swallow thickly and feel yourself flush as you watch James hungrily track the movement.

"Sweetheart, I need you to walk away from me first." You furrow your brows in confusion, before understanding. Fighting back the urge to step closer to him and grasp onto his solid warmth, you instead take a step back and grip onto his dress shirt instead.

"Goodnight." You murmur out, the electrified air that once surrounded you two downstairs, now feels stagnant and needy, hungry. James places his hands in his jean jacket and whispers the same sentiment, watching you slowly make your way into the guest bedroom, and even further away from the only person you currently wanted to be around.

You let out an exhausted sigh and run your hand against the wall until you find a light switch, automatically flinching as it's situated right in front of you and on top of a side table. You kick off the sweatpants and neatly fold them and place them on top of the dresser closest to the door, the ends of James' shirt falling down your thighs feeling like the ghost of his temporary and earlier touch.

You moan in relief once you situate yourself in bed and are under the covers, your nearly fully closed eyes snapping open and a tired smile encapsulating your entire face, as a gentle knock raps itself a few times against the wall separating the two of you. A gentle reminder that he was still there, and you two still had time. As you quickly find yourself falling asleep, the only words that come to mind are the words that you two had whispered to each other earlier, in your guys' first ever promise.

Make it work.

And to this day, I still wish for it to.

Counterproductive Tendencies ✩ James Hetfield

⭒ introductory, part one, part three, part four ⭒ (wordcount: 8.4k)

Part two of multiple: Underwire and Avidity (18+)

Mentions/Warnings: mentions of being sick due to a hangover, mentions of alcoholism, semi-public sex, dry humping

Your eyelashes tickle the precipice of your undereye, as the sensation of a delicate caress slowly begins to awaken you from your deep sleep, the coolness of silvered rings dragging themselves alongside your jawline causes a chill to configure and travel its way down to the base of your spine. You squint and shove your face toward and into the touch as a large beam of afternoon sunlight welcomes you within your first wide and fully opened blink, a blush reddening your cheeks as you raise your narrowed line of sight and unintentionally make eye contact with James. Bright blue irises ardently peer down at you as you immediately attempt to blink the blurriness away and focus on the man kneeling beside you, the temporary dark spots in your vision from the intrusion of bright light making it harder for you to do so.

The knuckles that were caressing you earlier, carefully turn themselves around while still maintaining the weight of the side of your head and slide down to cup your chin instead. Your lips tiredly upturn as the events of earlier that morning slowly cascade themselves back into your mind and memory, and a matching one slowly enraptures James' face as he takes in your elated and content expression. A thumb lightly taps itself on the ridge of your chin and you obediently bring your head forward, meeting him halfway as he guides you into a lazy, yet heartfelt kiss. Morning stubble grinds itself against the softness of your skin, and you raise a hand and encase it around the nape of his neck to usher him in even closer.

A sigh of relief is breathed out into the shared space between you two, and you let out a mewl as his now familiarized taste finds its way back to the tip of your tongue. James' hand firms itself around your chin and holds you in place as he gently coerces your mouth open with the beginning of his appendage, exhaling out a groan as he makes his way inside of your welcoming heat.

Your fingertips tangle themselves in the short hairs near the back of his skull, and the reverberation of his moan as you teasingly tug makes you giggle as it tickles your cupid's bow. James grins against you and pulls back for an unsteady intake of air, his free hand coming up to encircle itself around your left hipbone. "Good morning." He greets you huskily and rasped, his pupils dilated, and his lips swollen and damp with shared spit. You lick your own and chase after his taste, your hand sliding down his back as he raises himself up from his earlier position to sit on the edge of the side of the bed.

"Morning," you nearly titter, feeling light and refreshed as James' thumb unhurriedly massages figure 8's into your clothed side. The fabric of his shirt raises and lowers on your exposed thigh as he continues his ministrations, and his eyes can't help but to follow the movement with unhidden interest. Before you could tease him for his seemingly one-track mind, a miserable sounding groan makes itself inside the room through the still partially open bedroom door, and you worriedly push yourself up into a sitting position. "What the hell was that?" You ask, your heart tightly clenching with anxiety at the off-putting sound.

James goes to shrug it off, before frowning as the sound continues and becomes even louder. You quickly kick your feet out of the top sheet and comforter and slide down to the foot of the bed, gently waving off his questions as you instinctively follow the sound of discomfort. You mentally thank yourself for keeping on the non-slip socks as you hastily make your way down the hallway and past James' bedroom, before stopping in front of a wide open, bathroom entrance.

You immediately let out a coo as Kirk comes into view, the elastic you had gifted him earlier this morning becoming fully useful as he rests his upper half against the cold looking toilet seat. The curly haired brunette looks over at you with tear filled eyes, and you can't help but make your way inside of the room and sit down next to him. Your hand closest to him reaches up to push the stray hairs away from his sweat clad forehead, before coming back down to lightly at rub his upper back.

"Too much beer pong?" You quietly inquire, being mindful of your tone and volume after he lets out a wince as the toilet seat smacks down audibly after sticking to his forearm. Kirk lets out a weak grunt and slowly nods, before leaning his head back and sucking in a deep breath of stale air. "Never drinking from a fucking goblet again, can't keep anything down." You eye the half empty glass of cold water haphazardly resting on the edge of the sink and bite at your bottom lip, before standing up and making your way over to the mirrored cabinet.

You gently reassure him you aren't going anywhere after he whines once you move away, your hands instantly reaching forward for the isopropyl alcohol and cotton pads as soon as they come into view. Kirk squeezes his eyes shut after he curiously attempts to look up at you, cursing out loud as the artificial bright light causes a sharp pain to twinge behind both of his twitching eyelids. You quickly lower yourself back down beside him and open up the bottle, before ripping open the cotton pad container and saturating one of them with the clear and potent liquid.

"Do me a favor and sniff this," You instruct, holding back a grin as Kirk makes a stinging expression once you bring it an inch away from his face. "I know it burns a bit, but it'll distract you from the smell of sick and help suppress your nausea." You send him an encouraging smile as he looks at you in disbelief, before letting out a sigh of defeat and grasping onto it with a shaky hand to bring it closer to his nose.

James quietly clears his throat near the doorway, yet you two still jump at the sound. You tightly secure the cap on the bottle and make your way over to him once you're sure Kirk won't get sick again, the gentle look you're met with enough to make you pause in place. James holds out a hand to you and you automatically reach forward to grasp onto him and entangle your fingers with his, the calloused skin of his palm a comforting contrast to your own. You smile to yourself as you're tugged forward and nearly make contact with his firm chest.

"You didn't have to do all that, I'm sure he would have been just fine. Not his first or last hangover." You lightly shrug at his words, the tightness in your chest loosening as you glance over at Kirk and see color coming back to his face. James uses his free hand to gently guide you out into the hallway once the toilet flushes and his bandmate is able to stably stand up on his own.

"He made me feel welcome in here earlier this morning after my dormmates basically kicked me out and made me fend for myself, the least I could do is make sure he's alright and feeling a little less sick." You murmur, nodding to Kirk as he wearily makes his way out of the bathroom and back to his bedroom. James grins down at you, before shaking his head to himself, his thumb tabbing out to lightly rub against yours.

"How about you go and put some pants on, and then meet me downstairs? Pretty sure the rest of the guys are in the kitchen, trying to find something edible enough to make a late breakfast with," James humors, his own smile widening as he takes in the anew light in your eyes from his joke. You quickly agree, using his hand as leverage as he lowers himself to place a kiss on your forehead, the heels of your feet lifting off the ground for easier access. "I'll see you downstairs, baby." You repeat the same sentiment and watch as he makes his way down the large staircase, the small smile on your lips beginning to start to feel permanent as you do so.

"Looks like someone's making themselves at home," a voice muses out from the other side of the hall, causing you to twist your head to the side and grin once you realize it's Jason. "Heard you beat James at beer pong, after the rest of us headed to bed. Pretty badass."

"Surprised he even admitted to it," you express, nodding your head down to his full hands once you notice the guitar cases and bag. "Are you heading out for your gig?" A surprised and grateful look etches itself on his face as he walks his way over to you.

"Didn't know you or anyone else heard me say that over the screams and bottles of Bacardi." You catch on to his self-deprecating tone and decide to reassure him. "I don't know any of you guys all that much, but you seem to fit in well with them and they liked you a whole lot earlier, especially during the game," you pause as a multitude of expressions paint themselves on his face, the longest one sticking around being uncertainty. "You're their newest member, right? Just joined a few months ago?"

You feel pride as he reignites and smiles back at you, his nod turning jubilant after your acknowledgment. "Then that means something, means they want you around. If they could invite me in earlier without even knowing me, and treat me as well as they did, you included, then why do you think they wouldn't do the same to you? You're a whole hell of a lot more useful around here than I am."

Jason raises an eyebrow at your own self-deprecation, and you both share a laugh, before quieting down as a loud car horn blares itself outside. "That's me," he announces, his facial expression turning excited at the prospect of playing music and being on stage again. Jason pauses at the top of the stairway, turning around mid-step to send you a grateful look. "Thanks for the reassurance and your kind words. I think you're pretty useful around here, coming from the way you had us all laughing earlier and just by the way our frontman looks at you. I don't think I've ever seen him that happy and present before. And for what it's worth, coming from me, welcome to the family." Before you could fully register his words, he was already gone and halfway down the staircase. Echoed goodbyes and joyful expletives are exchanged downstairs, before the front door is being slammed shut and tires are skidding and screeching away outside.

As you make your way back to the guest room and toss back on the same sweatpants from earlier and re-tuck James' shirt back inside, Jason's words replay in your head, in a non-skipping and pleasant repetition.

Welcome to the family.

⭒

Hushed whispers resonate in the large living room near the staircase you descend upon as you make your way downstairs, the chill from earlier this morning now long gone and the floor much warmer. You skid to a halt as you hear your name in the half-murmured conversation and contemplate on going back upstairs to give them privacy, before your curiosity gets the best of you. You make sure to stay as quiet as you possibly can as you get yourself closer to them and in earshot, the cushioned padding on the bottom of the socks helping to mute your footsteps on the tiles underneath your feet. You lean against a pool table nearest to the kitchen, the wall being the only separation from you and the rest of the guys currently speaking.

"I'm just saying, we're going on tour in less than a month. It isn't the best idea or ideal to get all caught up on a chick, when we're going to end up being halfway across the country and all you guys will have to hold onto instead of each other, are overpriced phone calls and tissues." You purse your lips as Lars bluntly speaks from only a few feet away from you, the only other sounds coming from around him being scuffed footsteps and the sizzling telltale sign of food currently being cooked on the stove.

"He isn't lying, het. And that isn't us just saying shit because we don't like her, we think she's great. We all do. But think about it for your sake, and for hers too," resounding silence emanates throughout the entirety of the large home, and your stomach drops as it continues to persist until Cliff speaks up again. "You've tried this long-distance relationship bullshit multiple times before, and it didn't work out back then. Why do you think it'll work out now? Because this doesn't feel like another re-run with your ex?"

"She isn't like her at all." Is spoken out gutturally, and you hold your breath as James finally talks for the first time in minutes. His only few words are spoken with such finality, and you decidedly walk into the room and speak up before you could continuously stand there and spiral on your own. You figure you have heard more than enough.

"I think I should head over to my place and see if my dormmates ended up getting some sleep after all," you begin, watching as they all temporarily freeze in place, before quickly coming to the realization that you had almost just heard the entirety of their conversation about you. "Thanks for being so kind and welcoming. I'll be sure to bring back the outfit." You try to smile, but it comes off as too pained and forced. Cliff looks back at you in shock, before his face falls in guilt and remorse, Lars being no better off. Shame is painted on his face, but James' expression is completely closed off and guarded, nothing like how he's been with you, since the very first moment he saw you in his bedroom.

So much for welcome to the family.

You walk towards the nearest exit after a few moments of no one speaking up, uncaring of only being in borrowed socks and with your shoes still being upstairs. You take in a deep breath and squeeze your eyes shut, before reopening them and quickly unlatching the lock on the door to the front entrance. The door is only a quarter of an inch open, before a familiar large and ringed hand is pushing it shut and delicately trying to turn you around. You refuse to budge and feel your teeth narrowly miss your bottom lip as you clench your top and bottom sets together, as you feel James' head rest on top of yours from behind.

"Please just hear me out." He pleads, the pained whisper of your name afterwards causing you to sigh and slide out of his grasp and vicinity. You turn to face him, but stare at his chest instead, knowing that if you were to look him in the eye, you would cry.

"Did you already know that you were leaving in less than a month, to go on tour?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper, you wishful for it to not shake. Multiple sets of footsteps hastily make their way upstairs, but you continue to stare at his shirt in front of you, still wrinkled in the same places you had gripped at it earlier this morning. "Please, just be honest with me."

"Yes." He regretfully grits, and you huff out a dry laugh, your eyes beginning to sting with frustrated and unshed tears.

"So, you led me on then," your eyes shoot up and cut him short as he opens his mouth to argue and disagree. "You saw me, knew that I got the short end of the stick by my roommates, and thought I'd be an easy lay by the time you packed your things and were ready to get on the road. Is that it?" James vehemently shakes his head no, but you continue, tears embedding themselves in your lower lashes and slowly making their way down your flushed and overheated cheeks.

"You made a promise with me to make things work, and then I come down here after an amazing time and beginning of my day with you, just to walk into a conversation and not only find out that you're leaving in less than a month, but that I'm also being compared to your ex, by your friends and by people who were nothing but nice to me and welcoming for the entire time I was with them at the party. What exactly am I supposed to hear out? Because I think I heard everything just fine."

James reaches up and grips at his own hair before letting out a hallow curse, his expression heartbroken and angered at the same time. Your frustration begins to die down as you see his waterline edge with tears and his lower lip begin to tremble.

"Please just listen to me. Please," James begs, disentangling his hands from his hair to reach out and grab onto your own, his shoulders visibly lowering with relief after you don't immediately pull away. "You didn't hear the entire conversation, I swear. As soon as I came downstairs, the guys started teasing me, talking about how differently I acted last night because I was with you. Normally, I'd be damn near incoherent and trashing the house with strangers and women, but I didn't because I had you. I found you. You came over here, unassuming and nonjudgmental and unknowing of who we were, and you completely dropped me, straight on my ass. You were kind and funny, and treated us equally, the complete and utter opposite of your dormmates. You trusted me the entire party and treated my friends as if they were your own, and the way you took care of Kirk this morning," James stops himself as his voice cracks, his eyes welling up and his hands trembling in yours.

You gently squeeze his palms with silent reassurance, and you allow him to step closer to you, to tower over you and bring your joined hands up to his chest.

"The way you took care of Kirk this morning, and the way you reassured Jason earlier. We heard it, we all did. When you came down, you heard my best friend's fucked up ways of asking if I was ready to try again, to possibly fail at another relationship. That had nothing to do with you, and the fact that you were brought up and compared to someone who is nothing like you and will never be, wasn't fair either," James takes in a tremoring breath and runs his eyes down your form, as if trying to placate himself by reminding himself that you were still there, that you hadn't walked away just yet, that he still had a chance to make things right.

"My ex and I weren't the best. She knew of who I was before we got together, and she was attracted to the idea of me, she didn't love me. She loved the idea of me, the idea of how far the band and I could get her, how far she could get by being with me and being friends with the rest of the guys. I was two months into the last tour and on the road when she called me and broke things off. Said she found someone in another band that had already taken off, and that she didn't need me any longer for temporary footing. She was cheating on me all along. So, when you came down and heard Lars and Cliff being cautious about me moving on and possibly getting myself into a relationship that may or may not be the easiest for you or myself, it didn't have anything to do with you. It had to do with my own fucked up history, with how I messed up on my own and messed myself up before I even met you."

James carefully lets go of your hands to cup and hold your chin like he had done earlier, his once bright and clear eyes, now dull and fragmented. You tilt your head upward and blink rapidly as his fingertips splay across your skin and remind you that he's still there, that he's still here with you. That he isn't going anywhere, not unless you tell him to.

"I didn't tell you about the tour, because our official date keeps on changing. Our producer and team either want to always keep things the same or want us to write and record five more songs in a week. We don't even have an official live setlist yet. But that isn't an excuse, I fucked up by not letting you know what was going on, and that was my fault. In my mind, I still had at most, another thirty days with you, to tell you. To show you I could be what you need, what you want, and to solidify things with you, to the point that me being gone and on tour wouldn't even make a difference between us."

You furrow your brows in confusion, looking up at him with wide and bewildered eyes. "Be what I need, what I want?" You ask, your tone incredulous. "When have I ever specified that I wanted anyone or anything other than you since we've met?" You encircle your hands around his wrists, his pulse ricocheting and racing underneath your fingertips. You tug and gaze up at him intently. "Answer me, please, tell me."

"You didn't have to say anything, I already know," you cut him off by gently placing a kiss on his forearm, and then his inner elbow, his bicep. Your fingers dance up to his shoulders and then enrapture themselves in the wavy locks that bestow themselves on his shoulders and upper back once he lifts you up, your socked feet now inches off the ground.

Calloused palms grip the backs of your upper thighs and hold you in place as your legs raise themselves and hug his middle. "What did I just kiss you with?" You ask in a hurried breath of a whisper, your lips now only a few centimeters away from his own.

"Your mouth." James answers you shakily, the tip of his nose rubbing against yours as he speaks. His eyelids flutter and he sucks in a deep breath as you lean forward and brush your plush set against his, his pupils shot and his heart beating incessantly and erratically in his chest.

"And if it isn't coming from me, and it's in your head, then that means it isn't true. Not completely, at least," you murmur, your tone soft and warm. "The only way I wouldn't want you is if you didn't want me, and I want you just as you are. Sweet and gentle, giving and receiving." James shakes his head in disagreement and rests his forehead against yours.

"I'm different on the road. I drink more often, and the partying can get to my head," he stumbles verbally, his thoughts going a mile a minute. But when he takes a deep breath and refocuses on you, it all starts to clear and pan out. "What you see now is me when I'm controlled. When I'm with you and the guys, things are easy. If I get attached to you, and I go on the road and you aren't there, I don't know what'll happen." You loosen your fingers in his mane and bring them up to caress the sides of his face, to cups his jawline and rub your thumb against the swell of his bottom lip.

"Well then, I guess we've got less than thirty days to get our shit together, together." A grin overtakes his downtrodden features, and his eyes widen with newfound hope. "Together?" He asks you, the thin and nearly nonexistent distance between you two turns into zilch as you guide him forward and place your lips on top of his.

"Together."

Every kiss that you have shared with him so far was electrifying, gut churning, scorching, pulsating and one of its own kind, but this one feels like coming home. From the soft pulses of his own plush lips against yours, to his hands gripping onto the loose fabric of your sweatpants to try and bring you in impossibly closer. To the lack of tears on his waterline when you two disconnect, and the way he whispers your name and the way it makes you smile.

"I need you to go back to your dorm house and get changed, get dressed," James beams, his voice now clear and secure, all of his fears and insecurities gone with you in his arms. "There's some place I want to take you."

⭒

You let out a sigh of relief once you cross the street and see the front door is open again, the sound of a familiar theme song projecting itself from the tv in the living room giving you enough feeling of normalcy to make your way inside and past the screen door and deadbolt. Five pairs of similar looking shoes are neatly placed in a row near the coat and jacket closet, and the attendance sheet still looks the same as it did nearly twelve hours ago, indicating that no one came in and no one went out.

Footsteps pitter their way down the stairs and you suck in a deep breath as your eldest dormmate comes into view, her face neutral and her shoulders upward and narrowed in. Her lips purse in a half scowl as she takes in the change of your outfit from your earlier attire, her eyes raking themselves up and down you in a way that feels overly scrutinizing and uncomfortable.

"You didn't make it back home last night." Is stated dryly, nearly feeling like a punishment itself, like a rough slap to the hand. You twist your fingers in the oversized sleeves of James' shirt, a button tickling the inner skin of your left index finger as you fight the urge to shrink back from her uncaring and demeaning tone. You instead straighten up and meet her halfway and equally for once, opening your shoulders and realigning your back, posture the complete opposite of her own.

"You wouldn't have let me back in if I had knocked, since it was past curfew. And by the time everything was calmed down and situated, the front door was already closed, and the side porch light was off. What else could you have expected me to do, but stay the night?" Silence envelops the small room you two stand in before the dining room and staircase, and you refuse to look away as her eyes widen back at you.

The tv shuts itself off, automatically timed for specific hours of the day, and you expel out an exhausted sigh as the silence drones on. "I'll be back before curfew, I'll get my chores done in time, I'll go to my classes and focus on my studies." You recite without flaw, the never-ending poem of bullshit you had just reiterated stapled and laminated on top of the fridge, right above the chronological and numerical, age ordered chore list, with your name directly on the bottom of it.

Your elder dormmate hums and gives you one last once over, before skirting herself towards the kitchen. You freeze mid step as you're halfway up the flight of stairs, her trilling voice sounding like it was right behind you as she voices out from the other side of the compacted and overshared home. A mischievous smile breaks through your lowered mood at her next words, the bottom hem of James' shirt nearly lifted over your head before you make it to your bedroom.

"Music was off before four in the morning this time, good job."

You make sure your door is fully shut and locked before you squat near the end of your bed and reach forward for your secret compartment, relief flooding through you as your fingertips graze the still closed latch. Bright whites and yellows lighten up the beige of your assigned bedroom, and a content grin lifts your lips as your eyes set and stop on a particular white, lacy bra and matching sundress. You make sure to dress as quickly as you can, using a small handle on your wooden, makeshift closet, to tighten and readjust the last lining of lace on the upper part of the back of your white linen.

You put back on and readjust the sweatpants and dress shirt over your main outfit and slide on a pair of brown boots, before hurrying back downstairs and safely making it past your elder dormmates, your signing out signature messily scrawled on the paper and its tethered pen swinging in the wake of you making a break for it back outside.

⭒

You untangle your hair from the top button of James' dress shirt, tossing a playful glare over your shoulder as he lets out a hilarity filled laugh at the sight of you struggling. You hear his laughter die down as soon as you remove his clothing from your upper half and slide the sweatpants down your legs.

"Is something still funny?" You innocently ask, locking your booted ankles together as you lean back against the warming up car, your eyes wide with amusement and his enlarged in wonder and awe. You watch him swallow thickly and quietly shake his head, his eyes flickering down to the swell of your breasts and the accentuated curves of your hips and thighs. "Didn't think so, big boy." A soft smile makes its way on your face and curves your lips upward, as an innocent blush colors his cheeks at the endearing and teasing nickname.

"So, where are you taking me?" You narrow your eyes as James lightly shrugs instead of answering and places a hand on your lower back to guide you over to the passenger's side of the car, his rough fingertips teasing at the lace embodying itself on the natural curvature of your spine and arched back.

"Now if I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise, now would it?" He rebuts, a teasing and mirthful grin taking over his features as he opens the door for you and carefully closes it once you're fully sat down inside and situated. You turn your head to the side and stare out the window to hide your enamored grin, your heart fluttering in your chest at his chivalrous actions. James slides an arm over the large one-seater in the front of the car once he's back in and tugs you closer over to his side, your left leg insistently pressing itself against the center console as he brings your upper half flush to his side. You ignore the pressure on your limb and rest your head against his muscled and stable shoulder, placing a feather of a kiss on his clothed arm as he backs the car out of the long driveway and steadily begins to drive you two down the street.

Orange and yellow bellows itself through the windows as the sun relaxedly begins to set, and you watch with partially closed eyes as the familiar streets slowly fade away, nature eventually taking over mail trucks and rush hour traffic. Large, colorful bushes and vine covered fences greet you as James makes his way into a completely empty parking lot and places his car in park. Your eyes widen as you turn your head to look around in curiosity and find a large patch of land, completely covered in daffodils.

"When the hell did you find this? This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen." You gasp out, eagerly waiting for James to make it back over to your side of the car after he insists on opening your door for you again. You gratefully hold onto his extended hand as you exit the car, the loose fabric at the bottom of your dress making it harder for you to see and be mindful of your own footing.

"I got really overwhelmed one day and felt like shit afterwards, so I took a long drive and ended up over here. Now I come whenever I need a bit of time alone and space away from everybody." James explains, his arms encircling themselves around you from behind as you two make your way over to the land covered in spring flowers. You both exhale out a huff of laughter as you two stumble forward, the smile on your lips only widening as he places your feet on top of his. You stand still and straighten up as he begins a steady pace, letting out a shriek as you two go tumbling backwards in the grass as your boots slide off his and cause your feet to unceremoniously intertwine. You hear him let out a soft oof as you two make contact with the partially softened ground, a loud guffaw punching itself out of your chest as you twist around and see the look of shock on James' face.

"Are you alright?" You try to ask through tear filled laughter, wincing and letting out a short cry of pain as your side begins to cramp up due to the force of your amused movements. You can barely see him through your tears, but you could feel him vibrate with mirth underneath you. You take in a deep breath and go to partially lie down on his front, reaching forward to press his wrists on either side of his head, a playful smile lifting your lips. "I asked you a question, if I remember correctly." You muse.

James raises an eyebrow up at you, before letting out an amused laugh, going pliant under your hold. "I'm alright, angel. Don't you worry about me." The sincere tone in his voice makes you melt, and you can't help but rest your chest against his and lean down to give him a kiss. You easily get lost in it, the finesse of his tongue and the caressing arch above his upper lip enough to take your attention off of the beautiful scenery surrounding the two of you. You let out a hum as James lightly laughs against your kiss bruised lips, before gasping as large hands escape your loose grip and flip you two over entirely. Your head gently lands on a small bound of yellow flowers, and an incredulous chortle rings in the heady air surrounding you, it quickly turning into a light and confused sound as your hands are place over and away from your head.

"Is this your way of letting me know you like being on top?" You ask him playfully, the smile on your face turning into a small gape as you watch his eyes darken as he stares down at you. You feel a shiver run through you as James' hold on your wrists gently tightens, the pressure of him nearly lying on top of you adding to the warmth quickly making its way down to your groin. "James?" You whisper out, biting back a gasp as his denim clad leg purposefully and roughly rubs against the sensitive, upper and inner skin of your thighs.

James' eyes dart down to your breasts, the underwire of your bra lifting and holding them in just the right place, even as you're laid down and nearly spread apart underneath him. A flush on your chest begins to develop as he leans back to look down at the way your dress rises with each light blow of the wind, his firm grasp around your wrists now gone, but you continue to hold still and keep them in place.

Your hips jump up in his light hold as he just barely runs his hands down your clothed sides, your center beginning to throb and your sex starting to dampen as his hands make themselves lower, and lower. James bites back a grin as his eyes dart up from your form and see the desperate look on your face, his own length filling out and pulsating at the simple art and view of you laid out for him, beneath him and staying just as he left you. "You're being so good for me, I think you deserve a reward," he praises, running a ringed hand up your middle, only to divert and cup one of your breasts instead. You let out a resounding gasp as he flips his hand over and uses the cool side of a ring to lightly run it over your hardening nub through your dress's fabric. "Anything you want baby, and I'll give it to you." He promises, his tone heartfelt and sincere as he teases your oversensitive nipple and slides his leg up in between yours to lightly tap it against your swelling and soaked clit. You cry out a mewl and buck up to rub your sex against the rough fabric of his jeaned leg, tears of relief stinging your eyes as James presses his thigh against your core to add more dizzying pressure.

"That's right, baby, use my thigh," He encourages, reaching down to shove the rest of your lower dress's fabric up to your middle, letting out a broken curse as your essence is obvious and seeping through the fabric of your lace lined underwear. "You can be as loud as you need to be, sweetheart. I'll take such good care of you. We won't leave until I've made you cum at least twice. Want to make such a pretty fucking mess out of you." You twist your wrists to the side and grasp onto grass for leverage as your first orgasm pummels through you, your hips raising off the ground and your legs encircling themselves around his middle. James grips your waist as you tremor in his hold, his mouth salivating at the sight of the soaked fabric sticking itself to your sensitive pussy, now just a few inches away from his sore and heavy feeling dick.

He closes his eyes and forces himself to not dive headfirst in between your shaking limbs and lick and suck you clean, until tears are streaming down your beautifully flushed cheeks and the only word you're able to verbalize is his name. Until you spread your legs even wider and welcome him inside you, the force of his thrusts making him bottom out and have his hips flush against yours, the only sound above the two of your guys' moans being the slick attaching itself and breaking apart at the center of your connecting flesh.

You reach up and caress the side of his face with a shaky hand, greeting him with a blissful smile once he reopens his cobalt blue eyes and amorously looks back down into your own. You unsteadily use your core muscles to lower your clothed pussy on top of his jean clad bulge, a gasp tearing itself out of your chest at the rough slide of fabric against your clit and a moan reverberating in his throat as your core's heat bleeds through his denim and straight onto his dick. "You can use me too, get off just like this." You grant permission, your wide eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head at the first slide of a weighted thrust against your soaked and sensitive bundle of nerves.

James' mind seems to blank and glaze over once you verbalize your consent, his movements and further words now only encouraged by the thought of making you cum again and getting rid of the dull ache in between his legs, musky and thick globs of pre-ejaculate staining and making their way through his briefs and thick lining of his zipper. You reach forward and bring yourself halfway off your back to grab at the button keeping the jeans attached to his hips fully closed, tugging the fabric down to the ends of his thighs and sending him a grateful look once he accommodates your movements and helps you pull down the skin clad denim. James sighs in relief once the pressure is removed from on top of his dick, his hands immediately venturing down to the backs of your knees to slide you back down on the naturally blanketed ground and spread your legs even wider and further apart. Your cheeks burn as he aligns his clothed cockhead against the center of the wet patch of your release through your underwear, a whine of his name on the edge of your thirsted tongue as he reaches down to entangle his fingers with yours instead of fucking himself against you.

A teasing smile licks at the crown of his lips as his hungry eyes take in every inch of you, the way your clit visibly pulsates beads of arousal through the cotton and the way your stomach sucks in a deep breath every time he slightly pushes his hips forward to rub his swollen and red cockhead against the center of your weeping pussy. James bends down and presses his upper half against you to place a reassuring kiss on your gaping and gasping mouth, the tip of his tongue teasing your bottom lip as he finally begins to rub and thrust his dick against you.

"Do you see what you do to me, can you feel it?" He asks you huskily, his eyelids feeling heavy and half open as he fucks himself against you with reckless abandon, grunting as his cockhead roughly brushes against your clit and your previous release bleeds its way onto and inside his own protective layer. You squeeze your fingers around his as you desperately nod, a wet cry of a moan trapped inside your throat as your hands are held down by his and his cock expertly rubs itself against your oversensitive and numbing pussy. "Bet you'd feel so tight around me, making a mess out of my cock and cumming all down your own legs," He whispers against you, his eyes baring themselves into yours as he watches tears of pleasure swell in your eyes and cascade down your temples. Your thighs seize in around him as you feel the familiar and overwhelming sensation of another orgasm approaching, your spine arching itself off the ground underneath you and your lower stomach brushing against his happy trail, your eyes squeezing shut as his lips part against yours and you two share huffed breaths of moans and gasps. "You think you can cum again for me, baby? Right against me this time? Make my cock nice and wet for me?"

"Yes, yes," you whisper against him in a mantra, your eyes snapping back open as your release bends its way out of you, James letting out a pleasured groan as your nails dig into the backs of his hands and your slick clings to both of your guys' underwear, them matting in the middle and creating the perfect slide in between you two. "Don't stop, want you to cum against me." You weep, whimpering in oversensitivity as he nods against you and slides his hands down to grip at your waist, leaning back to rest the backs of his thighs against the heels of his shoed feet. You watch as his eyes glaze over once again, as the muscles in his forearms tighten and become taught as he uses you for his own personal pleasure, the wet stain on his underwear starting to have a white hue as his balls begin to raise and tighten.

Your breasts begin to bounce with the force of his humps and thrusts against you, your stomach tightening with overstimulation as his jaw drops and his mouth pops open, guttural sounds of desperation and deep-rooted pleasure clawing its way out of his drying throat. "I bet you'd feel so good inside of me," you start, a moaned mewl interrupting you as his cockhead rubs at your entrance, the flimsy and thin material of your underwear bending inward to allow him to almost slide through and be exactly where he truly wants to be, where he craves. "You'd stretch me open and fill me up so nicely, paint me white and keep me warm." You pant, pleasure starting to come back as he nearly tears the cotton and makes his way inside of you with the force behind his hips, his fingertips digging into your skin in the most delicious way.

"Is that it? That's what you want?" He asks you through a hearty and thick moan, his voice graveled and almost baritone, his release tittering and on the edge as he watches your tits bounce and your wide eyes stare back up at him with overwhelming and unadulterated lust. "You want me to breed you, fuck you until you're loose and spasming around me? Until you can't speak or walk, because you're shaking so much?" James groans at his own words, the images flooding through his mind of you fully naked and underneath him, begging for him to fuck you harder and hold you in place as he brings you both over the edge, is what causes him to cum, the thick seed coating and covering the entirety of his length and shooting up past the elastic of his briefs.

You watch in awe as white spurts make their way onto his happy trail and bead through the darkened, wet patches of his underwear, the throbbing and pulsation of his release being able to be felt through both of your fabrics and reverberate back down onto your clit. James fucks himself against you and through his cocks last efforts of emptying itself messily all over himself and both of your front's, the crease in between his brows smoothing out and his grip on your sides softening and turning into a shaky caress.

"Are you alright, angel?" He asks you. His chest heaving, back taut and muscles contracting, his ballsack still raised and swollen, but his main priority being to make sure he wasn't too rough with you and that you are okay. He can't help but smile down at you as you let out a small bout of incredulous laughter, your hair pillowing out beneath you as you fully lay back and relax in the grass surrounded by flowers. James follows soon after you, biting back a grimace as your shared releases stick uncomfortably to his groin, his arms instinctually wrapping themselves around your shoulders and guiding your back against his front. You close your eyes and slide a leg in between his, the rough denim keeping your limb warm as the sun fully sets and the chill in the air from earlier this morning slowly returns.

"I'm more than alright." You finally answer, your voice nearly gone and your head now resting on the side of his bicep, your lidded eyes blearily looking forward and at his car as you feel his mouth descend down to your neck. Morning stubble tickles the sensitive skin, and you close your eyes in contentment as you feel him smile against you.

"Only thirty days to solidify things with me, huh?" You decide to tease, letting out a shrill as blunt teeth playfully nip at your clavicle. James laps at the spot with his tongue and grins widely as you let out a weak sound of protest, before tilting his head back up to rest it on top of yours. "Less than thirty days to prove to you that we can make this work." He gently corrects you, loosening an arm around you to reach down and readjust your dress and tug it back down to cover your upper legs. You gently turn and twist yourself in his hold to face him, and you bring a hand up to run it through his messy mane, brushing it away from his line of view as he gazes down at you.

"Less than thirty days to prove to each other that we can make this work." You whisper, delicately correcting him this time, the feeling in your chest light, but energetic as James gifts you with an insurmountably soft look and bestows his lips upon yours. You reel your head back to look up at him, your other hand grasping at the same wrinkles you had caused earlier, your grin lifting as you watch his lashes tiredly flutter and meet in the middle as he temporarily closes his eyes.

"I think we should head back and clean up, before we both fall asleep." You huff as he lets out a resounding groan and slouches against you, before nodding and guiding you both up into a sitting position. His arm lowers from your shoulders to rub at the lower of your back, letting out a whistle as his eyes catch on to the grass stains and small clumps of dirt littered on the back of your dress.

"And I think you should take your outfit to the dry cleaner's," He rebuts, laughter evident in his tone as you raise a hand to lightly smack him on the chest. Comfortable silence wraps itself around you two as he helps you up off the ground and walks you back over to his car.

You lean back against the passenger side's front door, resting your head on the window as James places a hand near the crown of your head and carefully pulls blades of grass out of your mussed and messy hair. His thumb glides down to tilt your head upward, blue immediately locking you in as you two look back at each other, his eyes filled with devotion and yours with adoration. "We'll make this work, I don't care what it takes." He promises you, swears. You nod against his touch and lean into his warmth as he brings you into his arms, the cold breeze no match against the unbridled joy and avidity making its way to your heart.

You two will work it out, no matter the circumstances.

And even if I was told of how things would pan out, and all it would take for us to even get to where we are now, I'd still go through it all anyway, and again. Twice.

Counterproductive Tendencies ✩ James Hetfield

⭒ introductory, part one, part two, part four ⭒ (wordcount: 7.5k)

Part three of multiple: Lakeside Views and Imminent Goodbyes (Part One) (18+)

Mentions/Warnings: explicit sexual content, finger sucking, oral fixation, lars' morning drinking

Loose noted and crumpled papers wrangle themselves even more astray beneath you as you push your upper half up and twist your head to the side, laid down on tendrils of hair preoccupying your line of vision as a seemingly endless pitter of knocks continue to disturb you from your already uncomfortable position on your too-small bed. You blearily squint your eyes and untangle your partially bare legs from the sifted sheet haphazardly thrown on top of you, your eyebrows raising as you realize that the sound is not coming from your bedroom door- but rather, from behind your curtain covered window.

You hold back a shiver as your thinly covered feet make contact with the cold hardwood of your bedroom floor, the bottom hem of your sleep shirt rising and tickling the bruised skin of your upper thighs as you raise your arms over your head in a stretch while you sleepily make your way over to the sound. Your lips curl upward as a familiar and comforting voice lets out an aborted curse behind the slightly tinged fabric, your grin turning into a wide smile as you push the material back and James fully comes into view.

Tussled blonde locks parade and cascade themselves over his half-covered shoulder blades as he impatiently waits for you on the other side of the glass, his annoyed expression bleeding into a softened look of fondness as he takes in your rumpled and slept in state. A light huff of laughter petals itself from in between his plush lips, as sunlight endeavors its beams over your features and makes the indentation from one of your embroidered pillowcases on your right cheekbone more apparent, one of his hands raising in surrender from the top of your windowsill as you send him a halfhearted glare from inside and pause midway through unlatching the window's lock.

"I could just leave you out there, you know." You quietly tease, making sure to keep your tone down as your dormmate's continue to rest, the house still eerily quiet as the sun unhurriedly makes its way back up to the precipice of the cloudless sky. You wholly unlatch the lock and push the aged wood upward before James can playfully rebut back, stepping aside as he lifts his lower half and kicks his feet into the now opened space. You both wince as his heavily booted feet make loud and rough contact with the hardwood floor underneath them, before letting out muted sounds of matched amusement.

Large and warm palms curl themselves around your upper arms and gently guide you into an embrace, a sound of contentment escaping you as James' scent permeates and thickens the chilled air currently residing in your bedroom. You force your eyes to remain open as your left temple makes contact with the soft and worn cotton of his sleeveless and self-cut t-shirt, calloused fingertips etching and weaving small shapes into your clothed, goosebump ridden flesh while you tiredly blink and encircle your arms around his middle.

"You think you can put the books down for a little while, and go on a trip with me and the guys for a few days?" James asks you quietly, the timbre of his voice reverberating in his chest and lightly thrumming itself against the sensitive shell of your ear. You lift your head to peer over at your disarrayed and messy bed, your mood going from lighthearted and joyful, to pensive. James looks down at you and raises a hand to cup your chin once he catches on to your hesitation, his smile lowering into a worried frown once he sees your downtrodden expression.

"It's not that I don't want to, it's just that," you trail off, disentangling an arm from around him to rest a hand against his raised forearm, delicately thumbing at his exposed skin with a comforting and repetitive motion. "The spring semester hasn't even finished yet, and I've got essays due in less than two weeks and finals the beginning of next month." James nods, disheartened, before silently bending down to place a placating kiss on the crown of your head.

You rest your lids at the gentle sensation and lean into his touch, as his grip loosens on your chin and his palm trails down and back to rest against the nape of your neck. A sigh of relief pillows out of you as his fingers run their way up past your baby hairs to lightly tug the rest of your hair free, the elastic sliding down to wrap and knot itself around one of his thick and long digits.

"The last thing I want to do is get in between you and your studies, I know this opportunity means the world to you." He murmurs, his tone filled with understanding and warmth, regardless of the dissatisfaction weighing heavy in his gut. You reopen your eyes and trail them up to meet his, the blue in his irises light as the sun fully welcomes itself through the new clearing. You tangle your fingers in the material of the back of his shirt and contemplate, not feeling right about bailing on him and the guys, especially with how little time you two have left together.

"How far are you all venturing out for your trip, anyway?" You ask him curiously, lifting your hand from his forearm to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his bangs away from in front of his eyes. James turns his head to place a kiss against the side of your palm before it can fall, and smiles against your touch as one of your fingertips straighten out to lightly caress the indentation of the dimple in his cheek.

"Forty minutes south of here. It's a lake I found during one of my drives. Wanted to take you on my own, but Kirk got excited when I brought it up, and the rest of them just got dragged into it," Your lips quirk up at the absurdity of anyone from the band doing anything they didn't feel like doing on their own accord, and you shake your head to yourself mirthfully. James' expression soon matches your own, your elation and amusement contagious to him. "What is it?" He questions, his tone laced with barely concealed and held back merriment.

"I don't even think you could force Jason to take out the trash, and he seems like the most easy going," you joke, your stomach pleasantly tightening as James lets out a genuine and full laugh. You hum at the feeling of the back of your head being beckoned forward, and you readily mount your lips on his as he bends down to meet you halfway. You lap at his smile and swallow the soft sounds he exhales into your mouth, your body naturally molding against his as your arms encapsulate themselves around his wide and broad shoulders. Your tongues meet and embrace each other in a slick and wet reunion, the tip of his exploring appendage tracing the top of your mouth and lightly ripping a soft mewl from the back of your panting throat. You tug at his mane and begrudgingly pull away as he stutters out an unfulfilled groan, the palm he has splayed on the back of your neck gently trying to keep you in place. You lick your spit clad lips clean and force yourself to not dive right back in for another taste, your swollen pair already partially open so you can easily and hurriedly finish what you have to say. "You should have told me the trip was only forty minutes away in the beginning, babe."

James lets out a disoriented and noncommittal sound, his pupils blown wide and his lips a bright and flushed red. You bite back the pleased feeling of satisfaction emanating directly from your middle due to the blissful look on his face, and instead repeat the remainder of your earlier sentence once again. You tighten your hold around him as his eyes reignite and the content smile returns back to his face. James brings you in impossibly closer, your shuttering inhalation intertwining with his and irreparably becoming one in the small, shared space between the two of you. "And why is that?" He inquires, his voice barely audible enough to be considered a whisper.

"Because forty minutes sounds like it's close enough for me to be able to get back here and have enough time to finish up my assignment, before it's due Tuesday morning." You push the back of your hand against his grinning mouth as he lets out a resounding sound of exhilaration, the both of you freezing in place as you hear a door noisily open, and movement come from the hallway just outside of your bedroom. You hold your breath as footsteps falter and pause by your closed entrance, as if the person they belonged to was going to knock and enter, before they shift and tiredly continue down the corridor and into the nearest bathroom. You puff out a sigh of relief and lean forward to rap your head against James' vibrating chest, removing your hand from the source of his muffled laughter to lightly smack it against his lifting shoulder.

"You're trying to get me grounded before I can even make it to the lake." You playfully accuse, tilting your head back to place a kiss on his jawline, before ducking out of his hold. The hair on the nape of your neck stands as you feel him follow after you, as you make your way over to your makeshift closet to grab a small bag for your clothes and essentials. Exploring and mischievous, silver clad ringed fingers glide their way down the backs of your upper arms, dragging the loose fabric of your sleep shirt down with the intentional touch.

Stretched cotton slides down past your lowered wrists and pillows around your ankles and socked feet, and you let out a gasp as James' fingertips tease the curvature of your now bare waist. "I'm trying to get my girlfriend to come along with me on a trip with the rest of my best friends for the weekend, is what I'm trying to do," Your breath stutters in your chest at the new term, your eyes widening and lips opening in a small gape as you hear him hum from behind you and press his front against your back. You can see the muscles contract in his forearms through the small mirror you have perched on the bedside table in your room, his fingers bending inward to tug you back flush against him. "That's what gets you going, huh? Me insinuating you're mine?"

The tone is his voice is teasing, yet lustful, as if the idea and thought of you being his affects him as much as it's affecting you. You can't do anything but unsteadily nod, your tongue peeking out to lick at your bottom lip as his fingers travel down to tease the hem of your underwear, the rough skin of his wide palms leaving you to suck in a shallow breath as his fingertips dip down underneath the fabric to tease the skin surrounding your quivering groin. Warm and kiss bitten lips trail their way down your neck and rest upon your left collarbone as his hands flatten themselves on either side of your pubic area.

You force your hips to not buck up and stay in place as his index and middle fingers graze the folds of your slick sex, centimeters away from your already pulsating and beading clit. "Answer me, baby."

"Yes, I want to be yours." You nearly whine, eyelids fluttering shut as he teasingly taps his fingertip on the source of your sensitive and overwhelming arousal. You can feel his lips spread in a smile against your heated up skin, your heartbeat faltering in your chest as one of his hands abandons your lower half to slide up and cup your breasts through the flimsy material of your wire-free bra. James coos out a condescending sound of faux sympathy, before maneuvering his fingers to flick at one of your already erect nipples. You feel your whole body shudder and attempt to curl into itself as a thick finger circles your soaked entrance, but you reach up to grasp onto his wrists to keep yourself upright instead, desperate for his touch and for what might come next. Your eyes snap back open as you feel something firm press along the side of your back.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs in the now thick and electrified air surrounding you two, his gentle tone taking a rougher and more guttural side as he presses the hard length of his dick along the top of your backside and lower spine. The hand teasing your entrance comes up to press itself flat on your stomach, to help accentuate the hard pulsations thrumming from his own desperation, his cockhead painfully rubbing against the rough fabric of the inside of his jeans and dribbling a mess down his taut and tense midsection. "You've been mine since the second I saw you."

His weighted words do nothing but overwhelm and stimulate you even more, the confirmation of you already being his makes you instinctually squeeze your legs closer together and silently hope that you aren't already making a mess down your thighs and on the floor beneath you. You give in and allow your head to fall back and pillow on his chest, before arching your back and applying pressure to exactly where he seems to need it the most. Your lips twitch upward as you feel his moan before you hear it, it being stuttered out and heady as your body's natural warmth envelops his painful erection in the closest way it can through the few layers of clothing in between the two of you. James' lips part and spread hot heat down your clavicle as he deserts your breasts and stomach to grip at your waist and lift your feet off the ground. You let out a shocked gasp and tighten your hold around his wrists, a blush traveling its way down to your groped chest once you realize that he now has you two positioned directly in front of the small mirror on your table.

Sun beams nearly take away all visibility, yet you can still see his large hands cultivating themselves in the curved skin of your waist, and you can see the developed arch in his back as he purposefully places his groin against your ass. Your socked feet are returned back on the ground, and you watch, enraptured, as his hands begin to travel all around your middle and down to the hem of your underwear once again. "Tell me what's mine again?" He requests, although it sounds more like a gentle demand. His left hand repositions and massages gentle circles in your side, while his right stays on the edge of your low risen, cotton material. "Whose stomach is this?" He asks, the chill from the rings on his fingers reigniting and bringing back your earlier goosebumps full force as they're pressed into your skin. You open your mouth and obediently answer him, embarrassment flooding through you as you hear the uncharacteristic and needy tone in your voice.

"Yours," you answer, the only word you're able to verbalize sounding like a plea. James takes his time with you, his right hand only moving a few inches up and down your bare skin, each time skimming over your soaked and almost close to dripping pussy. Your hips attempt to rise and grind against his wrist as he bends down to run his calloused palm down the expanse of your right thigh, and you jolt back in place as his fingertips on your waist lightly pinch at your skin in a silent warning.

"Yours," you repeat, your voice sounding hoarse and painfully dry as his hand slides into the mess sticking to your thighs. James' fingers collect some of your slick, and he hungrily raises his hand up to his mouth, one of your hands encircled around his wrists getting disconnected during his hasty movement. You wait with a tethered breath for his reaction, frustrated and pent-up emotions of tears sting your eyes and lie on your waterline while you're unable to see. "Please." You beg, finally letting go of his other wrist to turn yourself around in his grip, only to freeze when you see his reaction. James' eyes are fully shut, and his arm falls limply to his side after you release yourself from his hold. His slicked fingers are almost completely inside of his mouth, his tongue audibly sliding in between his own digits to lap up every single drop of your natural essence, as if he was starving and craving the substance for years.

His pupils are entirely enlarged, and his irises are nearly black, when he eventually reopens his eyes to look down at you. Your own ardently track every movement of his own, from the way his trail down your neck and the swell of your breasts, down to your trembling thighs, and finally, back up to your wanting expression. You reach up to cover his hand with your own, before guiding his recently soaking fingertips into your salivating and awaiting mouth. Your lips stop and enclose themselves around his index and middle finger's second knuckles, only to open up wider and lave the rest of your slick off of his silvered jewelry. You feel the shiver wrack through his body as he watches you chase after the remaining taste of yourself on his spit-covered fingers, flattening your tongue and relaxing your throat as he tentatively presses down on your appendage and places the rest of the length of his fingers in your mouth. You swallow around them and moan at the weight of his digits on your tongue and the lightly faded taste of your own arousal coating your taste buds, the mess on your once clenching together thighs, now slowly traveling its way down to your knees in a multitude of translucent pearls.

You nearly choke as footsteps reappear near your doorway and slowly make their way back to their original location, your suctioned lips raising up in a smile and a laugh reverberating around James' fingers once you catch on to the hilarity of the situation. James can't help but smile himself, and his spent cockhead jumps in the now dampened confines of his jeans at the carnal sound your mouth makes as he slides his digits out of your warm heat.

"I think my place might be a better spot for us to fool around at." James chuckles out, his cleaner hand coming up to lightly wipe at the mess on your chin and the beginning of your neck. You grin up at him and shakily bend down to grab at your sleep shirt, only to pause after you hear a rustle and soft fabric is being pressed into your curved palms. You glance down at the self-cut t-shirt in your hands and stand back up to your full height, before ushering James down to press a thankful kiss to his still damp and kiss chapped lips.

"Always the gentleman and romantic." You muse while lifting the fabric up to open it and place it over your head, a wide smile hoisting your sore lips even higher as he lets out a sarcastic huff. "You count me dry hump fucking you in public and nearly fingering you in your strict dormitory, gentlemanlike and romantic?" James asks you humorously, collecting your hair to free it from the inside of his shirt once you successfully get it over your head, straightening the long fabric after you get your arms through the wide, self-made sleeve holes. He can't help but chortle at the sight of you nearly drowning in the already too-large shirt for him on you, the overworn cotton looking like an uneven, draped sheet.

You carefully scoop and roll the fabric up until it's around the same height of your hips, before reusing the forgotten about elastic to tie it in place on your side. You send him a look, biting back a grin as his expression becomes borderline sheepish. "I count you taking me to one of your favorite quiet places, so we could fully be alone and spend some quality time together romantic, yes. I also count you taking time out of your day to come over and climb through my window to ask me to go on a trip with you, gentlemanlike too. You only came over here to ask me a simple question, not to fuck around. Don't be too hard on yourself, babe. Everything we did, I wanted it to happen. I wanted to do more, to be honest."

The sheepish expression on his face turns smug, and you feign disgust before turning around to walk back over to your closet, letting out a bout of laughter once you feel the added weight of James' arms weigh down your shoulders and purposefully slow you down. You pretend to stumble, only to counteract and duck out of his hold once again, your laughter turning uncontrollable at the look of shock on his face. You toss your head back and lean against the large, wooden compartment for stability as you try to catch your breath.

"How does it feel to get got, huh?" You tease, the large and happy smile on your face nearly splitting it in half. James pauses and takes his time to answer, his eyes darting over your relaxed and delighted posture, his own feeling the lightest its felt in months, if not years. You furrow your eyebrows and go to take a step forward to check on him, only to stop in your tracks at his next words.

"It would be so easy to love you."

An insurmountable amount of different responses flit through your mind as you two continue to stand only a few feet apart and look at each other. You could laugh it off, play it off as a joke. You could reject the notion and his words entirely, cut things off before they get too serious. You could simply just walk away and forget about it all. But as you look at his earnest and open expression, you instead simply let the words that seem the most natural flow out through your still lifted and parted lips.

"As if it'd be so hard to love you."

You watch as his expression filters and stumbles through disbelief and pure vulnerability, pocketing his hands so he doesn't reach out for you, but you make your way back over to him anyway. The heels of your feet lift as you send him a comforting smile, before enfolding your arms around him. You leave an amount of leeway space in case he decides to reject the physical intimacy, and you immediately relax in his stable and secure hold as he tangles his hands in the back of his shirt on you.

"When are we supposed to be leaving for this trip?" You eventually ask, trusting the feeling that he would appreciate the change of topic, and you smile against his bare chest as he relaxes even more in your embrace.

"In like, thirty minutes, tops." You nod absentmindedly, before freezing in place and shoving yourself off of him and breaking the hold, panic rushing through you as you dart towards your closet and yank open one of the two doors. "Why didn't you say anything?" You ask incredulously, tossing a halfhearted glare over your shoulder as James guffaws and rests against the frame of the open window. You blindly grab onto anything that looks like it might match and throw it into the nearly and almost overflowing bag, only momentarily pausing to put on a random pair of jeans.

"I was a little preoccupied, and so were you." You lightly blush at the implication behind his words, a curse slipping out of you as you only remember the mess you made in between your legs as the slick sticks and slowly begins to bleed through the fabric of the dark denim. You hastily pull them down and clumsily yank them off from around your ankles, before tossing them in the direction of your laundry basket.

James clicks his tongue as he watches you fret and stress, before fully standing back up and grabbing ahold of a hand towel from the side of your makeshift closet. "Come here," he softly instructs, gently stopping you in your tracks to squat down beside you and lightly rub at the substance covering your skin. "We're going to a lake, don't have to be completely spotless for a location like that." You grin despite your worry and take in a deep breath, helpfully spreading your legs and finishing up the job on the backs of your knees.

"What about you?" You ask, a short laugh beaming out of you as your eyes travel down and zone in on the obvious wet spot near the zipper of his jeans. James pretends he doesn't see a thing, his smile coming back to at the sound of your unabashed laughter, the sound uncaring if it woke up the other oversleeping dormmates. You fold up the hand towel and walk it over to the container near your bedroom door, picking up the missed throw of denim on the way over. You lift the hair beginning to stick on the back of your neck as the sun begins to heat up the room and fully comes barreling in. "Do you have everything packet yet?"

"What could you need other than cold beer, metal music and your best friends?" He asks you, his expression deadpan and serious, before breaking out in a wide grin. "I'm just fucking with you; I've got my things in the back of one of the cars already, and I've got plenty of time to head back and get changed." You shake your head in gaiety and manage to successfully zip up your overfilled bag, barely remembering to slip on a pair of shorts and a pair of dark brown cowboy boots as you pace around and get all of your things together.

"I'll meet you outside in twenty? We're going to be riding with Cliff, said he wanted to talk to you. Jase might be coming with," You nod and try to keep your facial features relaxed, but James sees right through you. "I know you and him and Lars haven't had time to speak to each other since you walked in on our conversation a few days ago, but Cliff likes you and he wants to make things right. Lars does too, but I think he's too hungover to speak in full sentences right now." Your lips upturn at the imagined imagery of the Dane stumbling around with his hands in front of him, blindly trying to pack his things and failing, and you can't help but let out a giggle.

"It is exactly like how you're picturing it, but so much worse," he adds on through his own wide and amused grin, before holding out a hand for you to latch onto. You wordlessly make your way over and allow yourself to be tugged into a short and temporary embrace. Morning stubble nicks at your left cheekbone and leaves a pleasant sensation in its wake as James kisses each side of your temples. "I'll see you in a little while." He promises, only letting go of you once you agree and lean forward to meet him in the middle for another everlasting kiss, both of your lips stinging and surely beginning to bruise afterward.

You grab ahold of your bag and place it on the edge of your bed as you hurriedly try to reorganize your study sheets and nearly finished assigned papers, your eyes only darting up from your task to make sure James made it back outside and downstairs safely. You let out a sigh of relief once your bed is made and everything is placed back in their original folders, before heading to the bathroom to grab your essentials and quietly attempting to make your way downstairs without waking or interrupting anyone.

The small walkway to the kitchen is still unlit as you descend off of the last stair, and relief floods through you as you peer into the small living room and see that the tv is off and the front door is still closed and bolted. Your booted feet echo on the tiles of the kitchen floor as you hurriedly make your way over and crouch down to level yourself with the cabinet nearest to the bottom of the sink. You carefully place your unbagged items on the floor next to you and lie your overfilled bag down in front of them, in hopes to help stabilize your essentials and stop them from toppling over on the slightly uneven, tiled floor.

You quietly wince as you hear the crumpled plastic bags loudly shift inside of the cabinet, as you curve your fingers around the small handle and hesitantly tug it open. A small smile lifts your lips upward once you successfully manage to open it wide enough for you to be able to stick your hand inside and grab onto a small handful of the reusable shopping bags. A chill ripples throughout your upper half as your bare knees make contact with the cool floor underneath you, as you hastily kneel and quickly place your necessities in the flimsy carriers. Lightly weighed footsteps creak over your head from upstairs, and you pause in place, before using the heels of your booted feet to help stabilize you as you rock yourself back upright to stand, your hands preoccupied with your now fully bagged items.

You left shoulder runs against the discolored stretch of the wall as you try your best to avoid being seen or making noise while you walk your way past the steps, squinting your eyes to try and make sense of the outlay of the mostly dark living room. You nearly miss your footing as the side of one of your boots roughly connects with the front of the vintage ottoman near the end of the small hallway, and you force yourself not to let out a cheer as a sunbeam coming through the window nearest to you graces you with a thin patch of light for the rest of your short travel to the front door.

You wiggle your forearm until one of the plastic bags slide past your wrist bone to give you enough hand space to messily scrawl your initials on the attendance sheet thumbtacked on the wall near the main entrance and exit of the house, before glancing back down the hall to the right of you. Silence stampedes itself across the entirety of the home, and your hand is already reaching out to unlock the door before your mind can even catch up with the movement, your subconscious already acknowledging your wanting to be gone.

Warmth envelops you in a hug as you step out on the front porch and quietly close the door behind you, the deadbolt sliding back into place sounding like an audible finalization of your choice to cross the street and not look back for the next few days. And as you drop your arm back down to grasp onto the plastic handle of one of the many bags again, you do just so, walking past the large tree you had held onto for balance only a week ago.

⭒

The initial anxiety and trepidation you had felt on your first trip over to the band's house was now long gone, fully replaced by excitement for what's to come, and worried amusement as you watch Lars be haltingly dragged out the front door by Kirk, who's waving a cotton pad in front of his bandmate's face. "Just breathe it in, man." He exclaims, sending you a wide eyed look as you continue to make your way up to the top of the long driveway. You situate your bags on the uneven pavement once you do, and pace yourself over to the stressed out looking duo, the curly haired brunette immediately placing the alcohol soaked cotton in your awaiting palm as soon as you get within arms reach.

You let out a quiet hiss of sympathy as the Dane sluggishly raises his head to look up at you, before letting out a groan and stumbling forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder. "I'm sorry for being an asshole, or whatever." He slurs out, his words being half assed and nearly inaudible, but his tone laced with true sincerity and remorse. You raise an arm to lightly rub circles in his sweat clad back, sending a helpless look over to Kirk as he steps away to head back inside.

"It's alright, I know you were only trying to help," you try to console, blowing out a relieved puff of breath as Kirk reappears with multiple bags of snacks and gear, the yellow six pack of Coors being held upright underneath his chin standing out the most, as he stumbles back out and waddles to the car closest to the street. You gently brush Lars back until he's facing you, and you send him an apologetic look as you lift your hands up to hold his bobbing head in place. "Are you sure you're okay enough to come with us?" You ask, starting to feel unsettled and concerned as he lets out a hiccup instead of verbally answering you.

"He'll be fine," a rasped and humored voice speaks up from a few feet away, nearly causing you to jump and let go of Lars's face in shock. Cliff drops a heavy looking cooler near the boot of the other car, sending you a hesitant, yet comfortable smile when you glance over to find the source of the slightly familiar tone. Cliff shrugs on his blue and black checkered plaid shirt, before reaching into the cold box to grab a nearly frozen glass bottle of alcohol. "That's what he gets for day drinking, anyway." You hold back a laugh as he makes his way over to the two of you and places the frosting drink against his best friends flushed forehead, his smile turning into a dopey grin as Lars lets out a blissful sigh and leans into the frigid temperature.

Kirk steps back onto the porch to wrap an arm around his shoulders and raises a hand to hold the cold drink in place, before sending you and Cliff a grateful beam. Silence encases the two of you as he tackles his original task of guiding Lars to the car, the only sounds within ear range being the distant chirps of traveling birds and footsteps coming from within the house in front of you, as Kirk and Lars slowly walk away. You lean back against the black railing and hyper fixate on the patchy grass covering the lawn as an easy means for distraction, languidly watching as small, windblown pieces of sedimented dirt cake themselves on the sharp looking blades of bright green, as the quietness continues on.

"I'm sorry," you look back up as Cliff begins to apologize, following his lead to sit down on the warm step attached to the side of the home, his hands readily reaching down to retrieve a cigarette box from his side pocket as you settle down next to him. "Didn't mean to start anything between the two of you." He murmurs around a beige filter, your eyes tracking the repetitive movement of his palm smacking against the bottom of the opened package to settle the tobacco as he speaks.

"I understand why you said what you did," you admit, bending your knees to flatten the bottom of your boots on the dirt ground past the end of the stair. "James explained to me what happened with his ex. I would be protective of him if I were you too." Cliff shakes his head and removes the filter from in between his lips, reaching his left hand out to flick the ashes off the opposite end of the stick.

"Being protective of someone doesn't give anyone the right to sit back and talk shit, especially when the two people they're talking about and comparing are polar opposites," you let out an understanding hum and twist yourself around to face him and rest your back against the solid foundation of the wall, bringing your knees halfway up to your chest. "I know he seems fine now, but he was really fucked up about it for a while. Got into some trouble and did some things he shouldn't have done. But he's gotten a lot better, and I guess, seeing him open up to you so quickly had me worried on his behalf."

"It's hard to see the people you care for lose it after a bad situation, isn't it?" You ask, your tone turning soft as you watch Cliff's expression turn inquisitive as he looks over to you. "I had a friend from my hometown go through a similar experience, being used and then dropped when they were no longer beneficial to the other person or their lifestyle," you twist your fingers in James' t-shirt's loose material for comfort before you continue. "I've never been through that kind of situation myself, but I've seen the damage it can do to people, felt the hurt it spreads to their loved ones when they feel like they can't do anything to help."

You shake your head as Cliff opens his mouth to speak, his facial features looking apologetic and sorry. "I didn't tell you that to make this about myself or to have you feel sorry for me. I just wanted to let you know that I understand, and I would never put him in any situation or scenario that would make him doubt himself or question that I care for him." You avert your eyes and let out a shaky exhalation as you see Cliff inhale a deep one of his own through your peripheral, the momentary silence between you two feeling lighter, more at ease.

"I think you're good for him," he announces, a small smile quirking up the side of his face as he presses the stump of his earlier smoke into the concrete near his feet. You let a wide smile grace your face at his words and slowly feel your shoulders lower and relax, the earlier apprehension you had for the upcoming conversation dissipating into thin air as you take in his wholehearted blessing. "I think he's good for you too, makes it a lot easier for you to get away from those fucking squares you're forced to call roommates." A loud laugh escapes and echoes from you before you can help it, and Cliff follows it up with a chuckle of his own.

"Dormmates, actually," You playfully correct, another spell of hilarity belting itself out of you as he dramatically raises his eyebrows and fakes shock. You go to mimic his expression, but instead turn around as you hear fast approaching feet. Jason filters out of the door with impressive speed, his hair landing on his back as he lets out a groan and places his hands on his knees. You suck in a breath to hold back a laugh at the look of annoyance on his face once he spots Kirk and Lars in his car. "Are you alright?" You finally ask, using your hands for leverage as you stand up from the shallow step.

Jason lets out a groan and drops his bag on the ground next to his socked feet, before turning to the side to greet you. "Hey, good to see you, and no," his lips involuntarily quirk up as he sees you grin at his offbeat and dead sounding tone. "If Lars gets sick in my car, I'm gonna kill him."

"I don't think he's going to," you pause midsentence, pursing your lips as you follow the sound of a miserable groan, only for Lars to peek his head out of the window and suck in a greedily amount of fresh air. "Maybe you should just drive down with us." You offer instead, looking back at Cliff for confirmation, before turning around to send Jason a nervous smile.

"The more the merrier. Plus, I've got the cold beer." Jason perks up at that and nods his head towards the open door. "You had me at beer, I'll be right back," he pauses and glances over at you. "Your boyfriend's upstairs struggling to pick a swimsuit. Figured you should be the one to go and check on him, since you've probably already seen his bits." He lets out a cackle and makes his way back inside, you turning around to send a sharp look to Cliff, who's hysterically laughing and holding onto his side.

You shake your head in disbelief, the laughter building in your throat being counterproductive to the look on your face. "I thought he was the normal one." You breathe out. Cliff claps you on the shoulder, before beginning to walk his way back over to the last remaining car. "And that was your first mistake," he tosses over his shoulder, his grin still visible as he bends down to pick the cooler back up and unlock the trunk. "Go get your man and his bits, will you?" He asks you cheekily, nearly toppling over in laughter as your jaw drops in playful disbelief.

"You're all the worst." You jokingly state, before walking inside and following after Jason's echoing footsteps leading upstairs. Excitement thrums through you, even though you already saw James only a half an hour ago. You lift your hand to drape it across the polished wood of the railing as you make your way up the long distance of the staircase, and you allow it to drop back down to your side once you make it to the top.

You pause only a few feet away from James' room, your feet skidding to a halt as you're able to see enough within the small gap of his door to have your mind reeling. James paces back and forth, his mane haphazard and tangling behind him as both of his hands grip onto a small, red velvet box. You hear him let out a soft curse, before sliding it into the small compartment on the side of his bag. You take a deep breath and begin to step forward, making your footsteps purposefully loud and audible enough for him to be able to hear them through his mostly closed door.

James straightens up and greets you with a wide smile as you place a hand on his heavy wooden door and slowly push it open, forcing your own to look relaxed as you fully come into view. "You ready to go?" You ask, grateful for your voice to not be shaking. "Jason said I should be the one to come up and check on you. Something about you not knowing which swimsuit to choose, and about your bits." You exponentially calm down as he laughs and tugs you in for a short kiss, the soft feeling of his smile against your lips enough to allow you to push the thought of what might be in the box to the back of your mind.

"My bits and I are just fine, and I'm ready to go." He muses after he pulls away, wrapping an arm around your waist and using his free hand to reach down and grab onto his large bag. You look straight forward and refuse to look in the direction of it, and nearly stumble forward as James gently tugs you forward and towards the stairs.

"Are you alright?" He asks you, unwrapping his arm from around you to cup your chin instead, tilting your head up to have you look at him as he peers down at you, worried. "Your talk with Cliff didn't go bad, did it?" You vehemently shake your head and watch as he lets out a sigh of relief. Guilt churns in your gut at the fact that you saw something you shouldn't have, and before you can admit to what you did see, Jason shuts his bedroom door and makes his way over to you two, shoes now on his feet and his messy curls now controlled in a loose ponytail.

"I don't care what either one of you has to say, I'm calling shotgun." He grins out, his expression renewed and energetic as he passes by and bounds his way down the staircase with ease. You feel James lightly squeeze your delicate skin, before letting go and reaching down to grab ahold of your hand.

"You ready, baby?" He asks you, his smile stupidly wide as his calloused thumb gently caresses itself over your own. You inhale in a slow and steady breath, before side stepping and pressing your arm against his, your fingers easily finding space in between his own, the intimate touch grounding enough for you to surely and adamantly agree.

"I'm ready."

I was ready to say yes to him at any point, and to every opportunity he brought me. Whether it was spontaneous, or well thought out. Whether it was accidental, or on purpose. I would always agree. I would always say yes. And that's how we got to where we are now.

Needy Little Fucking Thing 𓍼 James Hetfield (18+)

A hiccup of a moan bellows itself out of you as partially bare hips make undeviating contact with the backs of the top of your upper, reddening thighs, the balls and heels of your shoed feet raising from the ground as strong hands lift and push you even farther up on the wooden fixture in front of you.

You gasp for breath as your boyfriend huskily expels a shuttering exhale against the exposed skin on the nape of your neck, his front pressing flush against your backside as he sheathes his entire length inside of you. Sweat trickles down from the crown of your head and creates dormancy on the sides of your flushed temples, your kiss chapped lips gaping as you feel James' hot length pulsate and weep beads of translucent precum into the precipice of your soaked heat.

Your walls incessantly flutter around him, subconsciously milking him for all he's worth, as the beginning of his shoes shuffle forward and pause underneath yours to help stabilize your unnatural position. The muscles in your calves tremble as you force yourself to not grind back and attempt to bring him even closer and deeper inside you, your bare chest heaving and hovering over the haphazard and cluttered desk now beneath you. Goosebumps litter themselves over the expanse of your overheated skin, as you feel his upturned lips rake and caress themselves over the shell of your left earlobe.

"Couldn't even wait for me to find an actual bathroom, pulled me into the closest abandoned bedroom instead," James muses, the tone in his voice playful, yet strained. Music hovers around the small crevice of free space at the bottom of the room's doorway just a few feet away from you two, and you lower your eyes in mortified embarrassment. They soon enlarge, and overstimulated tears rest upon your waterline, as one of his large palms travel up to guide you to lie your entire top half down on the cold surface, and his hips finally begin to thrust again. "Needy little fucking thing."

"Needed you." You mewl, the sound stuttered and dilapidated as his cockhead rubs and confides itself against your sensitive and spongelike spot. Your nails dig into the polished wood as he slowly extracts his arousal-soaked dick out of you, before smoothly gliding his hardened inches back inside. The repetitive cacophony of drunken laughter and overplayed music, dulls down and becomes muted background noise as James' hands travel their way upward to encircle themselves around your wrists to hold them in place.

"Needed me so badly, you couldn't even wait for me to get home," He condescendingly croons, the desperate delivery of his lust driven plunges a juxtaposition to the faux confidence in his cadence. You choke around a watery gasp as your feel your orgasm quickly approaching, the heat in your abdomen starting to feel like a coiled and tightly knotted rope. James bends down to bear a bite on your shoulder, lolling out his tongue around a satisfied sounding grunt to satiate the delicious sting. Your waterline overfills, and dewy tracks of submerged fulfillment make their way down your blazing and splotched stained, red cheeks. "Tell me what you need, baby, and I'll give it to you."

"Need to cum, need to feel you cum inside me. Fill me up." You manage, your words slurring and nearly turning into one as each impaling movement of his cock brings you closer to the edge. Your boyfriend lets out a hum, and you force yourself to stay pliant and in place as he removes his upper half from mounting your back and his hands from around your wrists. Before you can even question him, a hand is being pressed against your lower stomach to lift you up, and a thick and calloused fingertip is roughly colliding with your swollen and pearling clit.

A wail bleeds out of you as he sweeps his digit across your drenched sex and merges your limbs with his, his once desperate thrusts turning into reckless abandon. A sopping wet sound reverberates in the confined space surrounding you two, and the sensation of his dampening briefs below his raising ballsack chafing itself against your already bruising skin, disappears and becomes null. You encircle your trembling and unsteady hands around his forearms as your feet dangle on either side of his own, the aglets of his bouncing shoelaces due to his thrusts tickling the sock covered skin of your ankles as you turn your head to look at him.

Blue turned black irises encase yours in a trance like stare, and you squeeze your legs together as you feel them seize and constrict, your eyes heavily lidding as you avidly watch his facial expression crumble into a look of engulfment. You chase forward, ignoring the tinge of pain in your neck from the movement, and shakily place your lips on top of his. You swallow and accept every divot of spit laded tongue he feeds you, the tips of your shoes connecting with his as your thighs bracket and tense with oversensitivity.

"Cum for me, sweetheart," James breathes, a strangled 'fuck, you're so tight' mangling its way out as your walls vice like grip his length and swallow him in, barely giving him enough leeway space to fuck himself back into you. Thick lines of mixed saliva keep you two together as you slowly part, the heady air in the centimeters between feeling overbearing and charged with fervor. "I can feel how close you are. Want you to make a mess all over me and help me clean it up after." Your eyes involuntarily clench shut with the vivid imagery of your shaking body being placed down on your still wobbly knees, and your future self opening her mouth wide enough to lick and suck his broad girth clean.

"I can cum?" You ask, your voice heightened and overly airy as you try to hold on, fighting your body's natural instinct to curl in on itself, as James spreads your slick folds apart and lightly pinches at your clit. Your eyes snap back open as his pinky carefully makes its way inside of your opening, right on top of and with his still pivoting dick, and curls it upward to relentlessly rub the pad of his finger against your abused g-spot. White spots brighten your vision in the already nearly pitch black room, and your lips open in a silent scream as you reach and barrel into your orgasm.

"That's it, baby. Fucking perfect," he praises, his expression turning gutted and euphoric, as your release instantaneously triggers his own. Gasps pitter and fret in the chilled air as you slowly come back to, and as James slowly continues to fuck his seed into and toward your spent pussy walls and coated cervix. You twist your head back forward and rest your head against your boyfriend's chest, contentment flooding through you at his next words. "Such a good girl, listening so well."

"Taking care of me so well." You eventually rebut, once you're able to find your voice and catch your breath. A reassuring kiss is placed onto each one of your shoulder blades before you're lowered back down on your feet, and you only loosen your hold on him once you feel stable enough to stand on your own.

James lets out a quiet hiss as he carefully removes himself from inside of you, and you disappointingly grimace as you feel and watch your guys' mixed releases slowly run down the long expanse of your still twitching thighs. James gently maneuvers you around to face him, and you can't help but smile at the fucked out and pleased look on his face, his eyes blown wide and glassy, as if he was high. Large and warm palms resurface on your hips and draw you back in easily, a shy spring of laughter being shared as you both nearly trip over each other's feet in haste to get closer.

Your boyfriend bends down to level with you and brings you into a kiss, a pout forming on your swollen lips as he pulls away too soon for your liking. "As much as I'd like to stand here and kiss you all night, the party's going to be ending soon, and you didn't keep up your end of the deal just yet, doll," you lightly hum and tilt your head back, your eyebrows raising and your grin matching his own as he finishes his sentence and airs out a gentle command.

"On your knees, baby. There's still a mess you need to clean up."

(Un)Still Shots 🎞 James Hetfield (18+)

Laughter-filled vibrations reverberate through and thump against the back of your bare shoulder as James presses his elated grin into the partially disheveled hair cascading down the side of your neck, his eyebrows raised in faux surprise as he stares back at the large screen in front of the two of you. You widen your eyes and reach a hand out towards the camera, curling your fingers into a playfully threatening fist, and letting out a bout of resounding amusement as your boyfriend exhales a tickling guffaw against your slowly heating up skin.

"Won't even be able to see what's coming," James teases, his words sounding slightly muffled as his bottom lip catches ahold and sticks to the chain belonging to the necklace engraved with his initials. You tilt your head to the side and relax in his hold as he raises a hand to brush the tendrils and pieces of your mane back, your smile turning small and content as you feel them pillow against your spine and James' chin jut against your collarbone. Light, yet rough textured fingertips slowly make their way up your front and dip into the crisscrossed pattern of fabric covering and shaping your breasts, and your breath halts in your chest as his warm palm creates dormancy on your temporarily frozen sternum. "It's gotten quieter outside, less people. How about we have some fun?"

You bite back a mewl as the pad of his thumb runs itself along the expanse of your breastbone and nod, a quiet gasp barricaded behind your pinched lips as the photobooth's camera audibly shutters and takes another picture. Your heavily lidded eyes take in the look on your face, as its being reflected back to you on the touchscreen. James raises his other hand from your waist to delicately encircle it around your throat, his earlier laugh turning into a fulfilled chuckle as he watches your lips part and gape at the grounding and resolute hold. Your thighs tremble in between his as his bracket your own, the once chilled air coming from the other side of the haphazardly curtained photobooth no longer an issue or threat, as your boyfriend brings you in impossibly closer.

"Remember when we came here for the first time last summer, and we fucked around on the ferris wheel?" A petaled whimper escapes from your throat as he slides his large palm over to firmly grasp at the mound of your erect nipple and breast. You lower your head as you press yourself into the hold he has around your neck, your cheeks beginning to redden as your boyfriend lets out a condescending coo at your sudden and abrupt neediness. "Was so nervous and hesitant, until I stuck a hand underneath your skirt. Came so fast and messily, I had you lick my fingers and wrist clean," James' assured and steadfast expression and smirk is apparent in the next photo taken, nearly overtaking and shadowing the look of want on your own. "What'd we do afterwards, sweetheart? Be good and tell me."

You dazedly lick your lips and dryly swallow before answering, forcing yourself not to grind back against him, as unrelenting heat pools in your core and arousal begins to pearl and trickle at your entrance. "We ran to the bathroom, and you fucked me against the door of the closest stall," you rasp out, a slight choked breath of laughter following after from the still vivid memory. "Got caught halfway through, so we ditched the rest of the carnival and finished on the backseat of your car." James unabashedly chortles from behind you, both of you now sporting wide grins, despite the air becoming heady, and the heavy and hot bulge insistently pressing itself against the lower of your back.

"The fucking noises you made," James reminisces, guiding you back by the secure hold around your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. James maneuvers your legs wide open with his booted feet, watching hungrily as your reflected self shivers at the cold air making its way to your soaked sex. You lustfully gaze at the screen, as your boyfriend's hand slides down from your chest, and gropes and glides down to your groin and underneath your skirt. "If you can keep quiet this time, I think we'll have enough minutes left to make you cum before our meter runs out," you twist your head to the side and shove your face into his bicep as he teasingly taps against your clothed and pulsating clit, pleasured tears accumulating on your lower lashes while he flattens his palm over the entirety of your sensitized pussy. "I could always stick my fingers in your mouth, have you swallow and gag around them until you cry. Even though you're already halfway there."

You refrain from obediently opening your already salivating mouth from his words alone to make space for his fingers, and instead open it to plead. "I'll take whatever you give me, always will." You whisper, shocking yourself at the dampened sound of wanton emanating from your voice, even while it was already so quiet. You let out a muted moan once you unbury yourself from his warm side and look forward once again, the darkened irises peering back at you through the screen enough to make your slick begin to bleed through your underwear's fabric and drip down and narrowly miss your guys' sets of scuffed up and overworn boots. James' cockhead unceremoniously spurts precum against his zipper as your face comes back into view, your bitten red lips and teary eyes enough to make him nearly release, untouched, in the tight confines of his denim jeans. Your heart erratically stutters in your chest as James brings his head down to lap at your goosebump ridden flesh as a way to distract himself, your jaw slackening as his fingertips entangle themselves into the dampened fabric to tug it aside.

"Please, don't tease me." You beg, your sharp inhalation turning into a hiccupped stutter of his name once his index finger slides itself through your swollen folds, the audible sound of your arousal almost as loud as the hum coming from the bottom of the photobooth. James' mouth pops off of your clavicle, leaving red and purple hued sucked marks behind, once the desire to watch you fall apart from his touch becomes unbearable. James looks at you through the screen, enraptured. From the way your spine arches away from his front once he finally dips his ring and middle fingers into your welcoming entrance, to the way your facial expression turns pornographic once he curves them upward to purposefully rub and abuse your overly sensitive, spongelike spot. To the thick and all accommodating globs of your prerelease, that help him fasten and quicken the pace of his fingers fucking themselves into you.

"As if I'd ever tease you when you're as wet as you are for me right now, pretty girl," you hastily reach up and grab ahold of the wrist resting against your chest, the hand attached to it deliciously tightening and bringing you even monumentally closer to the edge. Your hips raise as you straighten your feet on the ground to use them as leverage to ride his fingers, the constant stimulation of your g-spot and his dirty talking and the slight air deprivation enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head, and for white streaks to color the darkened corners of what little vision you have left. "That's right doll, fucking use me. Cum all over these fingers, made to fuck in and out of you." The tightened muscles in your midsection twist and then flatten out as you reach your orgasm, your lips nearly splitting by the way your jaw widens as you needily suck in little air. James holds you upright as you quietly sob and tremble in his grasp, the hand he has wrapped around your throat, slowly disentangling itself to mold along your waist and keep you from falling down. Murmured praises are what welcome you once you come back to, your body still jolting every few seconds with oversensitivity, even after your boyfriend has already placed you back down on the wooden seat in between his legs, and your once askew, cottoned underwear are put back in place.

"You did so well for me, sweetheart, you know that?" James asks you, the side of his dimpled and handsomely acne scarred cheek raising in a soft and endeared smile as he looks down at you. You lift your right temple up from his shirt clad chest and chase after his lips, tumbling out a gasp against his lifting one's as you taste your familiar and slightly musky slick on his own. You wrap your arms around his neck and use his sturdy and broad shoulders as leverage, before swinging your shaky legs around to rest one on either side of his spread and taut legs. You lift your hips and barrel yours against his, uncaring of the painful sting it brings to your still throbbing clit. and the feeling of your ruined underwear clinging and sticking to the thick material of his jeans.

James can't do anything but pant and wildly lick into your mouth as you dry hump fuck him, his fingertips gripping the bare skin of your thighs and lifting you up as you grind up and down on his weeping and leaking, red clothed cock. The photobooth takes one last picture, and you grin into the kiss, already imagining what the photos will look like. You, nearly crying for your boyfriend to finger you, your plush lips parted open and your wet pussy soaking and making a mess of his hands, his wrist, and the floor. James' thick hands, manhandling you and keeping you in place, depriving you of air as he brings you over the edge, only in the way that he allows you to. You, nearly in a split, grinding and riding your boyfriend's clothed dick like you were choking and dying for it, as his blushing cheeks and bleary eyes stare back up at you, as he stutters out your name for a change.

"Need you to cum for me, baby," you whimper, resting your forehead against his as he lifts his hips from the wooden surface beneath you two to ground his sex as close as he can to yours, the warmth of your cum and arousal bleeding through his jeans enough to help him imagine himself being inside of you. Fucking into you nice and deep, his short nails digging into your hipbones as he chases both of your releases with reckless abandon, his mouth biting marks into your skin as close and as far as he can get. His cockhead rubbing against your cervix as you milk him dry, and as he fills you to the brim with his seed. "Cum in me, make a mess out of me. Use me, just like I used you." You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a loud gasp as your clit makes rough contact with the thickened fabric protecting his zipper in just the right way. The photobooth's lights dim and the screen compiles all of your pictures together as you orgasm for the second time, as James moans out your name and his cum mixes and connects with yours, as his hips rise with one last, aborted thrust.

Soft, exhausted pants and the sound of sweaty palms sliding against skin fill the photobooth to its precipice, before you lift your forehead from James', and you both look at each other and burst out into laughter. A clad palm envelops the nape of your neck and brings you down into a gentle and calming kiss, the duality of its nature causing you to grin into it. You lick your lips once you two part, still chasing after his taste after you already had it. James lowers his hands down to your waist, and gently places you on the seat next to him, before reaching forward to grab ahold of the printing, black and white strips of pictures. Hysterical laughter bellows out of him, and you quickly lean toward him, following suit as you take them in.

"We look like c-list porn stars." You gasp out through harsh breaths of laughter, uncaring of the rough movements of your head from James' own as you rest it against his back. Joyful tears spring to your eyes, and you shift until the photos are back in sight, your hysterical laughter tittering down to uninhibited giggles as you look at the first few of you two smiling and acting silly- to the last few, of you cumming hard against your boyfriend's fingers and palm, and you on his lap, grinding mindlessly and purposefully, as James stares up at you with wide, dilated and astonished eyes.

"Going to put these on the fridge, at the mansion." James jokes, instinctively ducking out the way as you blindly swat in his direction. Matching smiles lift both of your guys' faces, and his soon turns into a disbelieving look as you turn to look at him and ask, "Round two in the car?" James stares down at you momentarily, before shaking his head and filtering the multiple strips of photographs into a neat pile.

"If you ever have to ask me that question twice, shoot me." He says seriously, a wolfish grin taking over his features as he looks down at your incredulous expression, as you two make your way out of the photobooth and carnival, and towards the renowned and awaiting car. James lifts an arm and places it over your shivering shoulders, grinning to himself as you raise an arm in response and rest your hand on top of his. The partially quiet walk is soon interrupted by kids squealing in joy and families hastily making their ways to their own cars as the sun begins to set, yet you two couldn't feel any more carefree and content as the sounds pile on.

You huff out an amused breath as you're gently pushed back against the driver's side of his car and guided into a heated kiss, your eyes tiredly opening back up slowly once James pulls away. Before you can speak up and ask him if he's ready for another round, he beats you to it, only to ask you something that brings you both into another round of rowdy laughter, uncaring of the heads that turn to gawk and stare.

"Same time, next year, carousel?" "Yeah, why the hell not."

Counterproductive Tendencies ✩ James Hetfield

⭒ introductory, part one, part two, part three ⭒ (wordcount: 7.8k )

Part four of multiple: Lakeside Views and Imminent Goodbyes (Part Two) (18+)

Mentions/Warnings: cliff jumping, partial skinny dipping, explicit sexual content, oral sex (both receiving)

Yellow-tinged sunlight beams itself upon your mostly bare thighs as you slump backwards and rest your head against solid and warm, large palms. Thick and calloused, ring-clad fingers, run their way through your baby hairs, as Cliff and Jason haphazardly argue and banter back and forth over the soft onslaught of metal music melodizing through the car's aged speakers- the warming up air traveling through the partially rolled down windows barely being enough to keep the confined space of the car from becoming too condensed and unbearable, from the heat radiating off and through the front windshield's window alone. Empty beer bottles rattle and collide together near James and Jason's feet, the sound emanating from them sounding like windchimes, a peaceful juxtaposition to their raising voices and the line of traffic multiplying and growing behind your guys' car.

"How much longer do you think we've got left, if you estimate it?" Jason asks again, his last few words sounding muffled as he slides his bottom lip in between his front teeth to hold back his already poorly hidden bout of laughter. You rush to raise a hand up to your own mouth to conceal your wide and amused grin, the small burst of laughter residing in your throat just barely being kept inside as Cliff tosses an incredulous look over his right shoulder. "Because not only was I not allowed to ride shotgun, but I was also lied to about how long it'd take for us to get down to the lake."

"We've barely even been in the car for more than twenty minutes, you not-so-little shit," Cliff snips back as an answer, even as the side of his mouth involuntarily quirks up to show his true reaction to his newest bandmate's playful complaints and questioning. "Keep on bitching, and I'll strap you to the front and let you sunbathe with the gnats." James leans forward and presses his own mirthful smile against the back of your head, his hands and arms sliding down to wrap and encircle themselves around your front to bring you in even closer. You lower your head to place a kiss on his nearest wrist, your eyes almost closing in bliss as you're squeezed back in a nonverbal answer and reassurance, and fully embraced.

You jolt forward instead and widen your eyes as the car harshly brakes, and disbelieving laughter fills the sudden silence in the shocked space. Kirk tosses a rushed and apologetic arm out the driver's side window of Jason's car as they fully emerge themselves in front of Cliff's and continuously speed forward, Lars' uninhabitable and unhidden screech of adrenaline filled merriment still coherent and audible as they hurriedly pass by. James' embrace turns into a secured and protective grip as Cliff curses out loud and barrels his foot into the accelerator, perspiration accumulating on your chest and lower back as you force yourself to calm down and suck in a deep breath.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" James asks you in a worried murmur, his tone soft and placating, while his arms continue to hold you in a near, vicelike manner. You nod dazedly and extend your hands to hold onto his forearms, slow grins growing on the guys' faces as your deep inhalations turn into dumbfounded and astounded chortles. The tense air in the car quickly tethers and breaks at the sound, and James coerces himself into slowly relaxing his hold around you. You lean back in the front seat and prop your head up against his left shoulder, as Cliff manages to pass Kirk and Lars and waves a blind middle finger in their direction.

"Five dollars Lars had his foot on the pedal." Jason bets, his attention now on the comic book splayed open on his lap, his words coming out lazily as warm, pillowed puffs of air loosen the hold the elastic has around his hair. James purses his lips and finds Cliff's eyes in the rearview mirror, only airing out his side of the bet once Cliff shakes his head. "Ten they were trying to open cans of Coors, and Kirk forgot he was the one driving." You shake your head in amusement and sigh in relief as the tendrils of hair once sticking to your cloying neck, blow free over the tops and expanse of James' biceps. Cliff meets you halfway with an exasperated look, as Jason ups the amount and James lets out a scoff, before doubling it.

"You already regretting crossing the street and knocking on our door?" He kiddingly asks you, the drawl in his voice amused and low as he leaves Jason's car behind and intercepts his way into another lane on the highway. Hard blasts of stale, spring air whip against the sides of his car as you send him a large grin, and delicately graze your thumb against the beauty mark situated on James' left elbow. Soft, hushed murmurs of folk music cascade through the small gaps of the car's windows from another nearby, as you easily and readily divulge your response, the answer being automatic.

"Never."

⭒

The guy's gradually quiet down as the lake comes into view, and you slowly raise your head from James' shoulder to look around in silent, stunned awe. Sun ladened diamonds shine and dance their way across the acres-long expanse of water, as lilies and pickerelweed plants and flowers brightly and colorfully stand tall at the precipice of the waterline, while simultaneously making their way across the entirety of the water's edge. Cicadas chirp from the surrounding trees, and birds expressively speak to each other as Cliff brings the car to a stop. Your hand is wrapped around the passenger side's door handle before it's even placed in park, your awe turning into excitement with every second that passes by as you take everything in.

James is barely able to disconnect from you, before you're rushing out of the car and glancing around with a wide smile, his soon matching your own as he takes in your giddy expression and enlarged eyes. Jason places his comic book to the side, before sliding off and out the backseat, and unevenly stepping onto the sun-marked and stained pebbles and rocks. He makes his way over to the back of the car and leans against the trunk next to Cliff, them sharing a knowing and content glance as James walks over to you.

"James has had a box in his room for the past few days, and I'm pretty sure he brought it here with him today." Cliff says in a quiet tone, his eyes only gliding away to look at a bee landing on top of a lotus-covered, lily pad. Jason peers forward as Kirk and Lars skid to a halt only a few feet away from them, his eyebrows sarcastically raising as they both shout out a muffled sorry over the car's still running engine.

"I came down earlier, after I saw him holding onto it. That's why I called her upstairs. I was hoping he'd give it to her already. Even though I don't know what the hell's inside." Cliff grins to himself as Jason loudly whispers, the few beers he had earlier becoming apparent in the way he wasn't able to keep his voice down. Luckily, Kirk slammed his door shut at the same time, and Cliff pushes himself off the bumper to make his way over to his sheepish looking best friend.

"I almost totaled my car because of you." He teases, purposefully making his tone hard, and bites back a laugh as the other immediately begins to stutter out an apology. "I swear, it wasn't my fault. At least, not all the way. Lars almost spewed, and he thought drinking was the only way to curb his hangover, so he reached down by the gear shift to grab a can of beer," Kirk rubs at the back of his neck and looks away as Lars stumbles his way out of the passenger's side, drunkenly raising a thumb after he manages to land on his feet and shut the door on his own. Jason lets out a groan, before begrudgingly making his way over to help steady the Dane. "I may have also forgotten I was the one driving, but only for a second." Cliff softens his expression as Kirk looks up at him worriedly, raising a hand to pat him on the back as his friend attempts to begin to apologize again.

"I'll call us even, but only if you help me get this shit out of the trunk, and help me get all of these tents built," Cliff offers, watching with an amused grimace as Jason bends over to turn the key in his car's ignition to off, letting out a string of curses as Lars tries to jump on his back at the same time. "I don't think the rest of the guys are going to be much help. Not until they sober up, at least." Kirk gloomily looks over at the boot of the car, before nodding. He soon lets out a groan once he opens the trunk and the contents nearly pop out all at once and tumble over.

"What about James?" Kirk asks petulantly, the tone in his voice bordering on a whined out exhale. Cliff silently nods his head towards the couple making their way down the stone path, near the entrance of the woods. "They've only got so many days left together, before we hit the road again," Cliff begins, reaching forward to heave a large, still boxed and unassembled, tent kit out of his car. Kirk winces at the echo the box leaves behind, as it makes contact with the rough grounding now underneath it. "We should let them have an easy time, before things become less easy and harder on the road. You know how things can get, have gotten." Dark curls tickle his shoulders as Kirk bends down to lift the cooler and store bags instead of verbally answering, only sending his friend and bandmate a dismissive look over the condensate-covered container once he's fully stood back up.

"Things will be better for him this time, for all of us," Kirk affirms, closing the trunk with finality once everything is piled up outside of the car and its earlier compartment. All except for one bag. "If he's doing this well, while already knowing how much little time they've got left together, he'll be fine once they're separated and doing their own shit." Kirk tilts his head to the side, watching as you two share a smile and walk your way into the wooded area. The usual weight he has on his chest while thinking of James alone on tour, suddenly feels light. Cliff looks away as Jason and Lars clumsily make their way on over, him sending them a grateful smile, as they cautiously bend over and seemingly pick up the lightest and easiest things left to carry.

Cliff nods in the direction of the flattest looking grassy area, and drops down in a squat, allowing a laughter lined smile to temporarily push his worries away, as the guys playfully gasp at the sight of him taking out his switchblade. He digs it into the side of the box, and then turns around to face them once again, his smile turning cheeky as he watches two out of three of his best friends let out a groan at the thought of having to move around anymore than they already have.

"Alright. Let's get even."

⭒

Small and uneven pieces of stone and gravel scatter beneath yours and James' boots as you two make your way even farther down the path and fully into the woods, the hot and incessant sun and its following heat temporarily being blocked by the tall trees' branches and leaves now covering you two. James grins widely as you playfully shove him to the side, before readjusting the already too large, self-cut off sleeves of his shirt back onto your shoulders. You unsuccessfully hide your own as his fingers find purchase on your shoulder blades once again, the pads of his warm fingertips dipping underneath the fabric of his t-shirt to lightly dance across your heated up and already tanning skin.

"I'm just trying to make sure you aren't hurt, baby. That's all." James playfully insists, his grin turning into a smirk as he feels the chill that runs its way down your spine from his simple touch alone. You hum noncommittedly, trying to coax yourself into coming off as relaxed. Your breath gets caught in your chest as the trees eventually disappear, and an even more beautiful sight than before comes into view. You two stand only a few feet away from the edge of a much taller drop into the lake, a rosebush on each side of the precipice a beautiful arrangement of pink and purple. You extend your arm, and only move forward once you feel James' long fingers intertwine with your own. You allow yourself to be gently tugged and tucked into his side, your joined hands being held behind your back as he places a kiss on your dampened temple.

"I can't believe you just randomly found a place like this on your own." You breathe out, your tone incredulous and heavy with wonder. James' next words make your cheeks wildly color, and you cant your head back to look into his eyes. "I only found this part of the path after I met you, actually." Your eyebrows furrow as you watch him get lost in thought, and as his smirk falls down into a slightly downtrodden expression. You lift your free hand and use your open palm to rest it upon his jawline, holding onto him as he peers down at you, suddenly looking tired.

"Hey, what's going on up in there?" You ask quietly, not wanting to interrupt the moment by accidentally raising your voice or talking too loudly. James shakes his head, and then hesitates, the hand holding your own coming loose enough to reach forward and grip onto the fabric of his shirt around you instead. "I thought I was alright with the idea of going back on tour and us doing long-distance, but I don't think I am," he confesses, bringing his other hand up to encapsulate it with the one currently cradling the side of his face. "The last few days without seeing you have been terrible enough on their own as is, I can't imagine a few days turning into a few months."

Realization dawns on you, and you can't help the soft coo that finds its way out of you. You gently turn your hand around in James' own and wrap your smaller palm around his, before beckoning him towards a higher leveled rock. Watery, blue irises meet yours as you sit him down and make your way onto his lap, his free arm instinctively wrapping itself around your middle to bring you flush against his front. "I'm not going anywhere." You start, your tone coming out as matter of fact. You place a delicate kiss on the side of his mouth before he can rebut, wanting more than anything for your physical touch to be more than enough reassurance that you're still here, and that you always will be.

"Where am I now?" You ask him, his lips twitching upward as the question reminds him of the ones he had asked you earlier this morning. "You're right here, with me." He answers throughout a small and gentle, growing smile.

"And where will I be when I'm not able to be there with you physically?" You whisper, your lips brushing against his as you press your palm on his bare chest, resting it against the skin covering his fast-beating heart. "Right here, a phone call away, a letter away, maybe even a ticket if we're lucky," you lift yourself up on your knees to rest your forehead against his, before continuing. "It's not like I won't miss you, won't want you close, but we can still make this work. I'm here with you, whether you're across the street, or across the country. So, please, be here with me. While I still have the opportunity to have you in my arms. While we still have the opportunity to experience new things together." James swallows thickly and murmurs his own agreeance, before tilting your head down with his thumb, and lowering you into a devouring, passionate kiss.

Your lips audibly shift against his with every slick and breathed out moan, your fingers molding themselves into his sweat clad skin, while his own reach down to caress small circles around the fingerprint marks he left behind only a few hours ago. Warmth awakens within your gut as you feel James subconsciously buck his hips forward, and as the soft fabric of his swimming trunks brush against the rough texture of your denim covered zipper. As you hungrily swallow down his gasped out exhale, an aborted exclamation tears itself out of your chest as a cheeky sounding throat clears itself from behind you, only a few feet away.

You squeeze your eyes shut as a drunken laugh reverberates and echoes over to you two, the sound of a bag being placed on the ground following soon after. You groan in mortification as Lars speaks up, the amusement in his voice making his accent thicker and richer with every word he forces out through choked back titters. "Kirk made me walk this out and over to you nasty fuckers, since I'm apparently still too out of it to help them build the tents," you brave a look over your shoulder and immediately blaze red as you two make eye contact, your shoulders dropping and hunching forward as you twist back around to bury your face into James' neck. James sends his best friend a glare, before nodding his head towards the path's walkway. Lars raises his hands in faux surrender, beginning to stumble as he starts to walk backwards. "Don't know if there's any condoms in your girl's bag, but I do know that she at least brought a yellow towel." Lars holds back a grin as he hears you let out a muffled and embarrassed sound, tilting his head down towards your bag once he's sure you aren't looking, and mouths bikini to James, before fully turning around.

"Fuck off." James spits, hiding his own amusement at being caught behind his urge to get Lars away to make you feel more comfortable. The Dane's laughter is still audible after the sound of his footsteps subside, and you only raise your head once James begins to fully sit back up again and gently taps at your backside.

"I'm never going back out there again," you declare, running a hand through your hair as you shift yourself back to sit on the heels of your booted feet. "I'll just swim home, I brought a bikini for a reason." James can't help the loud burst of laughter that fights its way out of him at your defeated tone and Lars' earlier mention, and you can't help but to dissolve into giggles at the hilarity of the situation. Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle to catch your breath, it hitching in your chest once you blink them away and catch onto the look James sends your way. Oceanic colored joy shines around his dilated pupils as he watches you finish up your bout of laughter, and heartfelt warmth fills the entirety of your chest as you finally make sense of the look you're being gifted with. Love.

You glance down at your bag, feeling overwhelmed. Your hands shake at your sides as you try to come to terms with everything coincidingly happening at once. You and James making things official, Cliff approving of you, you seeing James with a small, jewelry box. James, your now boyfriend, looking at you with so much love. You force yourself not to run, to not backtrack, and you send him a small smile, before rising to your feet.

"You agreed to experience new things with me while we have the time, chance and the opportunity to, right?" You ask, relief flooding through you as James looks up at you openly, albeit a bit confused, before nodding. Your smile widens as he immediately takes your hand once you outstretch it towards him, and he quickly chokes out your name as his shirt is tossed over your head and onto the now newly abandoned rock.

You take a step aside as you reach back to unlatch the clasps holding your bra together, your smile turning shy as you watch your boyfriend's jaw slacken and lower at the sight of you. "Go swimming with me?" Your bra straps just barely graze your forearms before he's vehemently nodding his head yes, his cheeks burning a bright red.

⭒

Heated stone burns the backs of your upper thighs as you dangle your feet over and off the edge of the large rock and its cliff, hiding your doubt and hesitation as James tosses your bag down to the side of the lower level of foundation, the eventual landing of the carrier sounding long and far away. Your bikini straps lightly dance around your upper back as you graze your calves against the smooth moss collecting around a part of the overhang, sending James a nervous glance once he straightens up, his own expression now bright and excited.

"When I offered to go swimming, I didn't mean cliff diving." You murmur, sucking in a deep breath as you peer down to see how far your feet are from the actual body of water. James hides his grin behind his hair, before squatting and sitting down next to you, his bare shoulder caressing your own as he does so. "And if you're nervous, you can just say so." He rebuts, his tone teasing. His eyes rake over your form as you begin to tense up, his amused smile turning gentle as he watches you stutter in an uneven exhale. Your breath evens out as his warm palm raises and steadily runs itself down the middle of your spine, the cool temperature of his rings making you feel familiarized, as you slowly peel your eyes away from the main source of your anxiety.

"We don't have to do this if you aren't ready or comfortable, babe," he reassures you, his thumb delicately dipping into the natural curve of your back as you lean and arch into his touch. "We can just walk back down the path and past the boys. There's a lower level down there, and I'm sure one of the guys can join us, if that'll make you feel more safe and secure about it." Your lips shakily lift at his caring proposal, before immediately shaking your head no and dragging your now bare heels across the solid surface beneath you.

"Lars has probably told everyone that he walked in on us having sex on top of the first solid surface we saw already." You respond around a small huff of laughter. James can't hold back his own sound of amusement, and you both fall into a small moment of silence, before he slowly extracts his touch and inches his way forward. You follow after him, reaching down to tightly grasp onto his right hand as your backside makes contact with the slippery ridge. James turns his hand around, palm facing the sky, and intertwines your damp digits with his, before twisting to the side to place a kiss on the middle of your neck placatingly.

"Don't look down, look at me," He instructs you, squeezing your hand in his and sending you a proud smile as you do so. He tilts his head toward the water. "The water's only fifteen feet deep, and the jump is even less than that. I know it seems scary now, but I promise you, I'll be right next to you the entire time. And if it at any point feels like too much, just hold onto me, and I'll keep you from going in too deep." You nod along with his words, your heartbeat regulating in your chest and your fingers relaxing in his hold as you look up into his affirming gaze.

"I won't ever let you fall on your own or stray too far away from me." He promises, his words sounding heavier than intended, like a double meaning commitment. You ease back and then straighten up, your eyes momentarily leaving his to glance back down at the lake, no longer feeling overwhelmed, as a gentle ripple accumulates itself into a small wave just a few yards away from you two. "I trust you." You hearten, looking back at your boyfriend just in time to see the way in which your words affect him. James' smile widens and he takes in an enlarged, heavy breath, his pulse skittering underneath his wrist, which is directly pressed up against your own.

"And I trust you." He echoes back, his tone the most gentle and vulnerable thing. You elongate your thumb to brush it against his index finger's second knuckle, before nodding and bending your ankles back to brace yourself for the quick jump and drop. "Let's do this." You grin, your anxiety now long gone, as adrenaline and security run through you instead.

Your thighs touch as you two prepare yourselves at the precipice, and you two share an excited smile, before using your free hands as leverage to lift and push yourselves off the mount and edge of the rock. James' bright laughter is the last sound you coherently hear, before you stretch out and make contact with the lake's water.

Your feet kick underneath you as you fully submerge, the cold water awakening goosebumps on your skin as you relax your body and allow yourself to naturally float back up. Ripples of crystallized sunlight greet you as you reopen your eyes right before your head reaches the top, and you gasp in a delighted breath of fresh air as you resurface. Joyous titters bubble themselves out of you before you can help it, and you whip your head around to find James, only to have the sounds muting and freezing in your throat as you seemingly find yourself alone. Before you can even call out for him, a hand encircles itself around your left ankle, and yanks you back under.

You panic and thrash, only to huff as your eyes find his underwater, the first few feet of water illuminated enough by the sun to see his grin a few inches away from you. You reach a hand out to shove at his shoulder, before wiggling your leg free and swimming back up to the top. Droplets make their way down your forehead and temples as James cackles next to you, his hair clinging to the sides of his face and making him look even more youthful as he laughs. You forcefully whip your hand underneath a wave in his direction and bellow out a laugh as a sizeable splash of water directly smacks him in the face.

"Oh, you're gonna get it." He playfully gravels, his smile jubilant and euphoric as he reaches his arms and hands out to grab onto you. You shriek and halfheartedly attempt to break free, fully relaxing in his grasp as his hands slide down to rest upon your hips instead of assumingly pulling you back under or tickling you. Your arms encircle themselves around his shoulders, and you hold back a shiver as you're lifted out of the water and placed onto the cornerstone next to your bag. James slides himself between your legs and rests a forearm on each of your knees, a nervous laugh of yours echoing in the air as he places a brush of a kiss against your wet, bare stomach.

"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers against you, his bottom lip caressing the skin beneath your bellybutton as he speaks. Your thighs begin to tremble as his arms slide back down into the water, and his large palms hold your legs wide open instead. A whine tears itself from your chest as his tongue travels down to the beginning of your bikini bottom, the whine turning into a moan as he turns his head to the side to bite the tied knot free on the side of your striped material. Once blue turned onyx irises peer up at you as you push the hair from clinging to the side of his face back past his shoulders, the sun barreling heat down on your reddening face as one of his hands slide up to rest upon your upper thigh. "Still trust me?" He asks, his tone turning husky as he watches the now free material bare another inch of your skin to him, and as your nipples harden and petal from your newly, onset arousal.

You needily nod, your clit beginning to pulsate behind the nylon as his right hand reaches up to push it to the side, your breath halting as he lets out a curse as soon as your sex is finally visible. "Even prettier than I thought it'd be." He nearly moans out, sounding drunk. You can barely blink, before he's descending down upon you, and running the entirety of his thick and hot tongue through your folds. Your fingertips press into his skull as he skillfully takes you apart, your stomach muscles tightening and convulsing as you fight back the urge to scream his name. Thick rings press themselves in your skin to hold you in place as you writhe, and your head falls back to rest upon your partially open bag as the tip of his tongue slides up to lap at your clit.

"James," you sob, your pussy beginning to throb and become hypersensitive as his free hand comes up to rub its fingertips against your sopping wet entrance. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he slowly pushes and curves a finger into your tight heat, a strangled and wet sound clawing its way out of your chest as he finds your g-spot on his first attempt. Overstimulated tears lie on the edge of your lash lines as he lifts his head from you, your wetness leaving a thick glaze on his chin as he looks up at you, a second finger entering you as he watches you fall apart right in front of him. "Please."

"What do you need, sweetheart?" He coos, his voice sounding unaffected, while his chest heaves and his tongue peeks out like a man starving to lick at whatever it can reach beneath his bottom lip. James moans as he feels your walls constrict against his middle and ring fingers, his swollen lips lifting as your hips raise from the rock to try and ride them. "Need me to finger fuck you a little bit faster, don't you? So fucking needy for me. I knew you'd taste and look like a dream once I finally got the chance to be alone with you. Look at you now, doing and being so good for me." Your eyes roll back in your head as he crooks his digits upward, your heels you've been using to help you thrust sliding down and weakening as his second knuckles nudge against your sponge-like spot relentlessly.

"I just need you, always just need you." You answer through unadulterated and hiccupped mewls, no longer caring about if the other boys could hear you as you get closer to orgasming. James lowers himself back down onto you before he can mutter the few words dying to make their way out of his mouth, making his appendage useful as he sucks at your clit and flattens it against your weeping pulse point. Your knees lock around his shoulders as your hips raise from the ground once again, before dropping back down with a soaking wet sound, a wail of your boyfriend's name being wedged out of your gaping mouth as you release all over his face and over welcoming tongue.

Yesyesyesyes repeatedly makes its way out of your jaw slack mouth as he continues to lick and lap and suck, his fingers only slowing down and halting once you begin to whine and push his head and wrist away. Ripples of shivers wrack and shake their way through your entire being as you fight to bring in air, eyesight blurred from the force of your orgasm, and your legs only being stopped from spasming by James holding them in place. Morning stubble tickles the tops of the front of your thighs as James kisses the expanse of them while you calm down, his own eyes fluttering as you loosen your hold against his scalp and grip onto his shoulders instead.

"Come up here." You invite once you catch your breath, your hunger becoming insatiable as James shakily lifts himself from inside of the lake and makes his way over to mount himself on top of you. Your taste is being licked into your mouth before your head can even touch the top of your bag again, and you obediently follow his tongues movement with your own while he feeds you your own essence. James' heart leaps in his chest as you flip the two of you over and you slowly sit yourself on his lap, the exhaled sigh of relief he lets out from the pressure of you on his dick enough to have you bending down to place and lick kisses on the flesh of his flushed neck.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." James tries to reassure you, even as his hips buck up to thrust and press themselves against your bare pussy. You smile against his skin, damn near eating the sounds he lets out as you suck red hued marks into his tanning skin, the drawn out moans and shocked inhales being more than enough confirmation for you to keep going.

"You think you're the only one who's been wanting to see the other naked, to want to have the other one's taste in their mouth?" You ask him, grounding your sex into the thin material of his swimming trunks and smiling triumphantly as you feel his cockhead jump against your swollen clit with every movement you make. James mutely opens his mouth, slamming it closed to grit out a heaved out grunt as you lift yourself up to lick your way down to his hipbone like he had done to you earlier, the combined taste of the natural salted water and the heady taste of his sweat making your head spin. Your mouth salivates as you slide the material of his shorts down and finally see his dick, the swollen and blood red tip weeping beaded and nearly translucent drops of pre-ejaculate as you readily lick your lips and slide down to lie on your stomach in between his legs. "As if I haven't been wanting to taste you since the night we first kissed. It took everything in me to not turn around and beg you to take me to your room."

Your boyfriend squeezes his eyes shut and reaches down to run a hand through your still damp and unruly locks as you attempt to wrap a hand around his pulsating shaft, a slim rope of spit keeping your lips together as your fingertips barely touch the underside of your palm. "Going to make you feel so good for treating me so well." You promise, your other hand sliding up to hold him in place as you peek your tongue out and lightly run it across the tip of his soaked head. James' fingers lightly twist and become a small fist in your mane as you slowly encase your swollen lips around him, a cry of your name pouring out of his mouth as you make your way down to mid shaft, your saliva coming out of the sides of your mouth, only to travel down and messily rest and pool on and around his raising and jolting ballsack.

"So good," James nearly breathes out in a carnal sound, the wet heat of your mouth and the tip of his cock lightly tapping against the back of your throat enough to make him already feel close to the edge. "So perfect for me." The praise makes you moan, the reverberations causing James' balls to spasm and for his legs to jolt up. You close your eyes and take in a deep breath before attempting to deepthroat, the way his knees bracket you in as he shudders beneath you making you feel stable as you push your head forward. You weakly gag as you feel your throat constrict and fight against the unusual stretch, before relaxing as his spurts of tangy precum soothe and coat your soon to be sore throat. You unlatch and relax your hand from around his shaft, bringing it up to encircle it around the hand attached to your head, to signal to him it was okay for him to start moving his hips.

Light, dirty blonde hairs tickle the bottom of your nose as he slowly thrusts his hips upward and pushes your head flush against his abdomen, his muscles feeling painfully taut as he forces himself to breathe through the overwhelming pleasure. You bring yourself up to your knees and hold back a wince as your skin rubs against the hard slab underneath you, before sliding a hand down in between your legs to rub at your incessant and still throbbing clit. Tears stream down your face as you easily bring yourself to your second orgasm, already so close from the lack of oxygen from James' solid thrusts into your mouth and throat, and from the taste of him alone. You raise your hand covered in your own slick to nudge it against and massage his ballsack, hiccupped moans coming from your throat along with barely suppressed gags, as James uses you with rough and reckless abandon.

"I'm close baby, can I?" He asks you, his voice barely audible and scratchy from all of his moaning and pants. You tap twice against his wrist once again and shakily breathe in as often as you can, the force and strength behind his thrusts as he fucks your mouth enough to pulse and move your head backwards. James twists his hand through your hair and yanks as he cums down your throat with a low and punched out moan, the seed so warm and large it makes you push against his stomach and tug your head free. You gasp for breath and swallow as much as you can before beginning to cough, the rest of his release sliding down from your chin and landing on the mounds of your breasts as you roll back onto the heels of your feet. A satisfied and satiated smile lifts your spit and cum clad lips as you look at how fucked out and debauched your boyfriend looks underneath you, his chest heaving for breath and his eyes wildly large. You teasingly tap on his thigh and let out a chortle as you're yanked down and rested on his middle, your hands sliding down to rest upon his as you both take a moment for yourselves while holding onto each other.

"Please don't tell me that was a dream." James breathes out, his still panting lips shaping into a grin as you let out a loud laugh and toss your head back. "Not a dream, baby. But it would be a great one anyway." You reassure him, leaning forward and resting a hand near his head to grab ahold of the aforementioned and infamous yellow towel. James laughs as soon as it comes into view, and you smile to yourself, before using the dry and rough fabric to clean yourself off as best as you can.

Your boyfriend lowers his hands to use them as leverage to sit himself up, his elbows unsteady underneath him even minutes after his orgasm. You scoot back to lightly dab at the mess you left behind on his thighs and where you sat on his stomach, a blush rising to your cheeks as you notice the amount of your slick stuck on his fingers and still clinging to both of your guys' skin. "I don't think the towel's going to be enough to clean us off." You coarsely whisper, your throat beginning to sore and feel rough. James feigns contemplation, before gently tugging the fabric out of your hands, and throwing it over his shoulder. Before you can even laugh at the fact that it landed perfectly on a tree branch, you're being lifted and tossed back into the lake.

Laughter fills your water covered ears, and you hastily swim back with barely enough time before James is jumping into the water alongside you, his swimming trunks being left behind to dangle haphazardly on a sharp edge of the rock's ending. You decidedly unknot the top already loosely hanging from the back of your neck, and then toss it towards his shorts, a hoarse laugh making its way out of you as it lands near the towel instead. James swims toward you and tugs you back flush against him, the smirk on his lips apparent as he tantalizingly rubs your breasts clean and trails a hand down in between your legs.

"You were amazing." He praises you, his voice gentle, despite his sexual touches and his wide amusement being pressed into the side of your neck. "And you were perfect." You respond, your eyes closing in bliss as his thumb flicks over your clit and his other fingers run their way through your oversensitive lips. Your head rests upon his shoulder like it did earlier in the car, and your eyes snap back open once you acknowledge how loud you two had been. "Oh God, the guys." You groan, slumping forward as James lets out a hysterical laugh from behind you.

"If you thought Lars was the only one to worry about, just you wait." He cryptically teases, leaning back and away from your arm's length as you blindly swat for him. An amused expression cascades itself upon James' features as you turn around and point a finger at him, the soaking wet version of you extremely adorable and as nonthreatening as humanly possible.

"Don't tempt me, I will swim home," you threaten, your laughter melodizing with his after you finish up your sentence. "I just have to put my bikini back on first."

⭒

Howling laughter and low whistles greet you two as you two make your way off the path and towards where the guys have everything unpacked and set up, a grimace set on your features as your feet uncomfortably shift in the confines of your now damp on the inside boots. You lower your head as James wraps an arm around your shoulders and playfully waves everyone off. "Fuck off, you've all done worse."

"Our girl's first walk of shame with us, and it isn't even at our home." Lars whispers out brokenly, wiping a fake tear from the side of his eye as he cradles a beer to his chest with his other hand. Kirk looks up from Jason's comic book from the softened ground and sends you two an amused smirk, before going back to reading. Cliff unzips the largest tent and points at the inside, an unimpressed yet highly mirthful look on his face as he does so.

"Fucking is for the inside of tents, not in the lake, while you scare off and interrupt wildlife." Jason chokes on his drink and bends in half while Lars unhelpfully beats on the middle of his back with a half-closed fist, laughter bubbling out of him as he tries to keep their newest best friend and bandmate upright. You turn your head to the side to hide your own grin, and to look at the lakeview instead, only to have your head guided back in the opposite direction. James cups your chin and brings you into a chaste, meaningful and long-lasting kiss, the reverberation of his laugh tickling your cupid's bow as the guys groan out loud in unison and complain from a few feet away.

"Disgusting behavior." Lars snips, the small and genuine smile on his face the opposite of his tone and words. Jason nods toward the car and sends you a secretive smile once he stops coughing and finds his breath, before walking over to you two and attempting to snag James away.

"There's another bag or two still left in the car, would you mind grabbing them for me while I talk with your guy?" Jason asks, the side of his mouth upturning as he shares a small, yet full glance with Cliff. You nod and remove yourself from under James' arm, sending your boyfriend a comforting smile as he begins to look nervous. Hushed murmurs erupt from behind you as you make your way over to Cliff's trunk, and you force yourself to not look back at them as it opens underneath your hand. You peer in look around confusedly, before realizing James' bag is the only one left in the truck. You take in a deep breath, before wrapping your hand around one of the bag's large handles.

As you tug the bag forward, a small and red, velvet box falls out from the confines of its side pocket. Picking it up, you glance over your shoulder and latch onto James' eyes with your own. He freezes at Jason's side, yet doesn't stop you from slowly inching it open. As you look away from his hesitant expression and look back down instead, your stomach drops and tears spring to your eyes as you take in what's been in the box, and in the trunk, all day and for however long James has had it.

"Holy shit." You whisper, unaware of James making his way over to you, his hair as damp as the palms he's wiping against his swimming trunks. James stops just a few feet away from you, his hands anxiously wringing themselves in front of his stomach. You take in a deep breath and force yourself to stay in place as he sends you a nervous smile, before opening his mouth.

"I can explain."

I'll never forget the first day we spent together, and with the guys, at the lake. I still have your gift, and I still wear it every day. It still reminds me of you, still makes everything feel like home while you're out and gone on the road. Still reminds me that I belong to you, and that I always will.

Hiiiiiii

Can you write a jason smut where jase and the reader are high school sweethearts and its their first time ???

You swallow around the urge to let out a nervous sounding laugh as a tickling, wet kiss is placed on your left collarbone, the muscles in your throat tethering and constricting with the movement as Jason parts his kiss swollen lips to smile against your goosebump ridden flesh. Your stomach muscles tighten and narrow in as your boyfriend's careful and teasing fingertips dance their way down your bare and quivering middle, his thighs bracketing you in place as he hovers above you.

The sound of his spit clad grin disconnecting from your clavicle is audible in the slightly tense air surrounding you two, and the titter of nerves you were once able to hold back, pours out of you as Jason uses his hand holding up his weight near your head to level himself out with you and rests his forehead against yours. Bright blue eyes peer down into your own as he flattens his palm and lengthy fingers on your lower abdomen, the cool silver of your guys' matching class ring on his ring finger making itself apparent, as the chilled temperature of the jewelry opposes and stands out against the heated and blushed skin anticipatingly shifting underneath it.

"So nervous, even though this was your idea." He playfully taunts, the cerulean of his irises narrowing and disappearing as his smile widens and takes over his handsome features. Your laughter stutters and halts in your chest as you watch his slightly bruised lips spread, and you instinctively tilt your chin upward to chase after the taste of your own skin on his tongue. Jason immediately reacts to your kiss, his grin softening and jaw slacking enough to lave his appendage out to cascade it over your quiet gasp, before slowly licking and making its way into your welcoming and awaiting mouth. Your boyfriend's earlier and halfhearted confidence retreats as your tongues connect and your right hand weaves itself into his curly and unruly mane, his own desperation and want becoming obvious as his lips needily solidify themselves against your own, and his legs surrounding yours push your own pair even further together.

You mewl as your upper thighs rub and create friction only inches away from where you truly need it most, and as the salty taste of your own perspiration from your skin is granted on the tip of your tongue. You crane your neck back to suck in a much needed breath of air, a thick trail of shared spit breaking and landing on your chin as the ends of your hair graze the indented pillows underneath your partially lifted head. Jason forces himself to stay in place as your chest heaves just centimeters away from his own, the thin gold chain collectively holding your own ring around your neck enticingly moving to the side as you shakily pant.

"As if I did anything more than invite you over to my house for the weekend." You muse once you're sure your voice wouldn't break, and you could partially exhale. Jason's eyes follow the ring as if he was in a trance, before making their way down to the swell of your breasts, and then to his fingertips absentmindedly pressing themselves in your groin. Your heart pounds in your chest as you readily lift your head to follow his line of sight, a rush of heat flooding its way up your chest and resting upon your cheeks as you fleetingly look at the soon to be marks being imprinted in your skin. Jason removes his hand from the side of your head to encase it around your waist as he shifts back, your hips twitching as you hear him shakily curse from above you and near your knees. You use your now free hand to help you stabilize yourself on your elbows as you follow after him, your legs anchoring themselves shut as you catch him staring wide eyed down in between them.

The newly opened space in between you two allows for a coast of air to move its way through, and you bite back a full body shiver as the essence soaking itself through your cotton underwear makes itself known. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment and go to throw your head back, only to pause in place as you feel your boyfriend's fingertips lightly tug at the lace sewn in on the top of the now ruined fabric. You tease your bottom lip with your two front teeth as Jason hesitantly looks up at you, his own face now a beet red. "Can I?" He nearly whispers, his own question sounding foreign and heavy on his used tongue. You glance down at his hand securely wrapped around your waist, the thumb comfortingly rubbing figure 8's in the sensitive skin surrounding it, and then back into his eyes, which are still focused on you. You shudder out a hilted exhalation, before nodding and relaxing your thighs. Nerves erupt throughout your entirety as his hand slowly loosens from around your hip and comes down to help his other slowly roll down the soaked cotton, your eyes feeling heavy and dilated as he sends you a praising look after you instinctively lift your hips from the tousled sheets underneath you to help.

You bend your knees once he has your underwear near the bottom of your thighs, the front tops of your feet brushing against Jason's raising ballsack and throbbing erection as you try to lift them from in between his own. Heat collects in your middle at the resounding grunt he lets out, and as his hips press themselves against you. Your clit begins to pulsate at the feeling of his dick's natural heaviness, and you spread your legs open even wider once you're able to unsteadily raise your legs to the side. Jason haphazardly manages to get the cotton past your ankles, before blindingly tossing it to the side, his eyes transfixed on your sex as soon as it fully comes into view. Your elbows shake and you falter as your boyfriend carefully raises and rests one of your ankles on his left shoulder, before turning his head to the side and descending his way down to your core with his mouth attached to the inner corner of your leg. Your hips tremble and jolt with every inch he licks, kisses and sucks his way up to your weeping pussy, your eyebrows furrowing and your jaw slack as he takes his time with you.

Jason presses his painful erection against your other bent leg, rutting against and using your raised kneecap to relieve some of the pressure against his still clothed and palpitating cock. Jason's mouth salivates as he watches you pant and attempt to hold yourself in place for him, his cockhead beading with precum and begging to be free of its confines. Your leg connected to his groin is pressed down flat, before being raised and wrapped around his side, his stomach nearly grazing the sheets and blankets as he sucks a hickey into your bikini line. Slick runs its way down your swollen folds and tears cling to your lash line as you try to be obedient and patient, the lapping of his tongue only inches away from your sex making it nearly impossible for you to be.

"What do you need, sweetheart?" Your boyfriend asks you, sounding drunk and dazed off the taste of you. Your ring settles in between your breasts as you inch yourself up into a sitting position, your lips slick with spit and your eyes feeling ablaze. Jason sucks once last mark into the skin of your hip, before raising himself up on his knees, his large ringed hand encircling itself around your limb to keep your leg hooked on his shoulder.

"I want you," you breathe, your eyes darting over his facial features as you watch him take in your words. Jason's eyes widen as you reach down to try and grasp at the waistband of his checkered boxers, his own inhalation getting trapped in his chest once you're able to delicately run your fingertips over his hardened shaft. "I want you, all the way. I want us to be each other's firsts."

The hand holding your leg up, runs its way down to grasp onto your own, the other coming up to cup your chin and tug you in even closer. Your rising smile turns shy as your nose bumps against his, the desperation and hunger you felt earlier turning into a gentle pitter of desire as you look back into his softening gaze. "I always wanted you to be my first, and I always knew you were going to be, baby," he murmurs to you in a placating and calm tone, his lips brushing against yours in a light caress with every word he speaks. Jason licks his own set as he brings his thumb up to press it into your bottom one, his gaze hardening as you peek your tongue out to run it along his slightly trembling fingertip. "Are you sure you're ready?"

You place a gentle kiss on his digit, before smiling against the skin, lowering your leg down to wrap it alongside his middle instead. Bringing his hand down to your neck and him into an opened mouth, shared breath of a kiss, you swallow his moan and carefully lie yourself back down with him on top of you.

"Never been more sure of anything in my life."

⭒

You gasp around a stuttered exhale as Jason carefully runs a finger through your folds, forcing your eyes to stay open and on him as he takes his time with you. Gentle pecks are placed from the crown of your head, down to the precipice of your jawline. His now free cock bumps against your shaking thigh, as he rubs his thumb against your jack hammering clit and grazes his index finger near your fluttering entrance.

"Please." You stammer, nearly stutter, beg. Jason presses his grin against your skin, before slowly and carefully sliding the pad of his digit inside of you. A sigh of relief bellows its way out from in between your kiss chapped and soring lips at the slight relief, the sound turning silent as your boyfriend shapes and curves his finger upward. He pauses once his second knuckle makes direct contact with the tightening walls of your sex, only pushing back and creating space in between you two to be able to look down and watch the rest of his finger disappear inside of you.

"So fucking beautiful, knew you'd be worth the wait." He speaks out loud in a wonderous and awed tone, his cockhead jumping and spurting out a translucent, warm pearl of pre-ejaculate as he slowly pumps his digit in and out of you. You reach down to encircle your hand around his wrist, looking up at him with muted desperation as the sound of your slick accumulating on his palm becomes audible and echoed. Jason carefully adds his middle finger alongside his index, making sure to stimulate your clit to help distract you from the uncommon stretch.

You moan loudly and preen forward as a sharp spike of arousal crashes into you and warms your gut, Jason's smile turning triumphant as he relentlessly twists and prods at your spongelike spot. "There it is," He announces, lapping at his bottom lip hungrily as he watches your essence begin to run down his wrist and collect where your own hand rested. Your hips raise from the bed once again, and your boyfriend encourages the movement by wrapping a hand around your cloying waist. "That's right, ride my fingers."

Sweat drips down your neck and makes its way down to your bouncing breasts as you thrust and move your hips as best and as fast as you can, careening in short spurts every time he leans forward to lick and lap at every inch of your body he can get to without faltering his own thrusts. "Such a good fucking girl." He pants, his own chest feeling tight and overexerted as he watches you use him for your own pleasure.

You gape and shallowly suck in breaths as you lift your hips up and down, twitching in near overstimulation as Jason taps and abuses your clit and incessantly prods at your g-spot, his name being the only word continuously repeated as your orgasm quickly approaches. The last thing you see is Jason removing his hand and your own going slack, before he dips down to harshly suck at your clit with his enthusiastic mouth, and your release causes your vision to whiten and blur. Your thighs tighten and bracket him in, the sensation of his reddish-brown hair cascading down your legs feeling like a comforting, ghostlike touch as you fight to catch your breath and will yourself to stop seizing.

Strong, reassuring hands grip your lower half in place as he continues to suck a mark into your pussy, only stopping after you sob and nearly begin to convulse and shy away. Soft kisses are placed and traveled upward, his mouth only able to make it past your bellybutton once you relax and come back to enough to realize he's trying to move. Your breath is nearly stable by the time he makes it up to you and you're both face to face, the glistening sheen on his chin and upper neck enough to make you chortle out a laugh and turn your head in jubilant mortification.

His cleaner hand comes up to brush the hair out of your face, his grin wide and satisfied as he bends down to share the taste of your own slick and release with you. You open your mouth compliantly as he licks his way back in and curls his tongue to massage it on the roof of your mouth. You take in your own musk and taste as he feeds it to you, giggling into his mouth as you somehow manage to turn you both over, so he lands onto his back. Mussed and disorganized curls fan out on the pillows beneath him like a halo, and you look down at him in amazement, before shaking your head.

"God, I love you." You confess, watching as he pauses underneath you, before smiling wide and reaching up to encircle his arms around you, his repeating words to you coming out and sounding like second nature. You both moan as you fully sit down on his lap, your slick still present enough to help you slide against the entirety of his shaft. Lifting your hips to make sure you aren't too sore or tired to attempt to ride him, you carefully reach back and encase your palm around his dick once you don't cramp. You nearly jump as a warm palm flattens itself against your middle to get your attention.

"Baby, if you're sore, we don't have to continue." Jason offers, even as his dick pulsates underneath you enough to let you know his erection is verging on becoming painful. You elongate your thumb to lightly rub it against his cockhead, and grin to yourself as he closes his eyes in bliss. You use your residual and still growing amount of slick as lubricant, and take a deep breath, before steadying yourself with a hand on your boyfriend's groin. Jason shakily raises his hands to enclose them around your hips, his grip only tightening as you guide his cock toward your entrance and tap his weeping tip against it teasingly.

"What did you say about me being the nervous one earlier?" You ask mirthfully, deciding to go easy on him after he whispers out a please, and his dick twitches in your hand. You both let out tightened and whimpered exhales and whines as you slowly take him in and descendant downward, his cockhead being the hardest part of the stretch. Tears spring to your eyes from the realization of what was actually and finally happening, and you tilt your head backwards to blink them out of view. When you look back down, Jason is already looking up at you, his eyes blown wide, and his mouth seemingly stuck in the shape of an O. Your free hand comes down to join your other on his groin for support, while your boyfriend's grip loosens around you and his hands instead rise and lower on your sides to help you relax and loosen up.

"God, you feel like a fucking dream. Doing so well for me already." He compliments and praises, even as he already looks fucked out and close to moving his own hips himself. You send him a shaky smile, before carefully rising to your knees and shifting upward. Jason lifts his legs and plants his feet on the bed behind you, positioning himself to thrust in case you need assistance. You place the majority of your weight on your knees and then the rest on his stomach, the first thrust feeling empty and hallow, until your ass makes contact with his pelvic bone.

"Oh." You whisper around a sob, the first feeling of his cockhead brushing against your cervix overwhelming. You restabilize yourself and then thrust upward again, your movements and hip work quickly becoming fluid and easily repetitive as you chase the deep satiation and the sounds Jason's moaning out. You reach up to interlace your fingers with his after he experimentally fucks upward and meets you in a rough and soundly thrust, your eyes nearly rolling back as he somehow makes it even deeper in you than before.

"Please, baby. Again, again." You plead around choked stammers, your stomach muscles tightening, and your walls milking your boyfriend with every reckless and hardening plunge and thrust. You lean forward and bear down onto his pelvis as he pierces himself into you, the wet sounds of your slick and his prerelease enough to bring a breathless blush to your already blood red cheeks. Thick globs and strings connect you two together as the force of Jason's thrusts nearly have you toppling forward and off of his lap, and you have to instead bring your hands forward to rest them up on his chest as he unintentionally takes over.

"Tell me how good it feels, sweetheart." Jason grunts, his words nearly unintelligible as he continues to fuck into you with reckless abandon, one of his hands sliding down to rest upon your lower stomach. You clutch at it as you struggle to breathe in, your walls vicing and gripping around him so tightly, you can feel the long and thick vein in his dick rubbing alongside your walls.

"So fucking good," you begin, your words slurring off as the now familiar sensation of your orgasm almost comes back barreling through. You look down and make unsteady and tear-filled eye contact with him, his own gaze glazed over and his chest a bright, sweaty red. You place your hand over his heart and nearly gasp at the erratic heartbeat that greets you back in response, before rushing forward as Jason uses his hand on your hip as leverage to bear you down on him as he pegs forward. Tears make their way down your cheeks as you needily suck in aborted breaths of air, your knees failing underneath you and your hand on his chest sliding forward. You both look at each other and stop mid-thrust, before laughing in disbelief. "I think I'm going to cum soon." You say around a hiccupped guffaw. Jason places a kiss on your forehead once you end up chest to chest, and he reaches down to grasp onto one of your hands, before placing it behind your back to hold you in place. Your fingernails dig into his shoulder blade as he uses your joined hands as leverage to drive you back down on his length, as he incessantly pumps his way back into you.

Your spine arches and you forcibly straighten out as he continuously hits that deep rooted spot inside of you, your face crumbling and jaw dropping as Jason reaches down in between you two with his free hand to messily rub at your clit. "Go on then, baby. Make a mess out of me." You're clamping around him and orgasming before he can even finish his sentence, so tightly his thrusts are forced to slow down. Heat coils and snaps in your middle, and you settle on a silent wail as you feel your release exit and drip down to the bottom of your boyfriend's ballsack, even as your walls continue to narrow and attempt to milk him dry. Jason manages to grind twice more, before his balls tighten and raise, and he's shooting his seed into you. You slump forward and rest your head on his shoulder, exhaustion weighing you down.

Heavy pants fill the now overly quiet bedroom, and you carefully sit yourself up, making sure to keep him inside of you as you do so. You brush the tendrils of stray hairs out of your eyesight and off of your face, and bite back a grin as peer down at your boyfriend. A wide, satiated and worn-out grin overtakes his face, yet it softens into a wistful smile when he amorously looks up at you.

"How was that for a first time?" Jason asks you humorously and shellshocked, his tone falling short and turning into a resounding gulp as you tighten around him instead of verbally answering. You lean down and tilt his chin up, before deliberately kissing him, and humming contently as you lick the taste of yourself off of his mouth.

"How about we go for a second in a little while, and then you can ask me again?" You're flipped on your back and crowded in before you can even react, matching wide smiles and laughter ricocheting off your bedroom's four walls when you do.

i've finally got some time to write, answer and respond to some asks and requests, so send them in! ♡

A to Z ⭒ James Hetfield (18+)

Ask He'll give you anything you ask for, although he enjoys teasing you until you're nearly begging for it. Lying in bed underneath him, looking up at him with tears forming on your lower lash lines, your eyes blown wide, your lips bruised and bright red. The sight of you would drive him crazy, and the sound of your broken and desperate pleas would be enough to make him end his playful denial and give you exactly what you want, and even more.

Bondage He isn't into bondage and restraining very much, unless it's a hand pinning you down, or him using his own to capture and hold your wrists above your head. He's more into you using your own body to accommodate with his and add onto both of your guys' pleasure, with your nails digging into his bare shoulders and your legs encircling themselves around his waist to match his thrusts.

Cunnilingus He absolutely loves going down on you, the taste of your slick and release nearly making him feel drunk every single time. He'd moan against you and grin against your sex with every mewl you'd let out from his vibrations, and continue until you're pushing at his head and attempting to scoot yourself further up the mussed and disarrayed bed to get away. Even then, he'd follow after you and encapsulate his body over yours, eagerly licking into your mouth to share the taste of you on his tongue with its original source.

Dirty Talk He would call you the usual endearing terms, from sweetheart to darling, to doll. But if he was in the mood for something more rough and you consented, he'd call you a slut and a brat, gripping onto your hair and forcing you to maintain eye contact with him until you both came. He'd calm you down afterwards and shower you with compliments and aftercare, gently rubbing circles into your sore scalp and praising you for being everything he's ever wanted and needed, craved.

Edging One of his absolute favorites, especially after a long and tiring day, or after a meaningless argument. He'd kiss every inch of your skin and purposefully miss where he knew you were the most sensitive, his amused laughter causing goosebumps to lie in the wake of his warm breath splaying itself against your trembling and bare skin. He'd promise he'll give you exactly what you want, only to turn around and back away as soon as he sensed you were going to orgasm. He'd only let up once you began to feel overstimulated and anxious. Then, he'd take care of you so well, and make you feel like you got everything you wanted since the very beginning.

Foreplay James' foreplay with you would be a gentle thing, even though it sometimes bordered on being playful and teasing. He'd start off with undressing you, his wide palms cascading themselves down your curves and longevity with awe and wonder each time, like it was his first time ever seeing you. He'd nearly kneel while he unbuttoned your jeans, shivers and chills wracking themselves through your upper half as he looked up at you and brushed his lips against your groin while he slowly pushed them down. By the time you were both in bed and nearly naked, you were flushed down to your breasts, and nearly coating your thighs with your own essence. He'd still nip at the skin surrounding your hips, creating hickeys and mouth sized bruises, only conceding and sliding down to your rapid pulse point once you began to tug on his hair and guide his face and awaiting mouth toward your sex.

Groping If he isn't singing, playing the guitar, in a meeting or in the shower, his hands are on you. Whether it's a simple hand half wrapped around your thigh, or a comforting cup of his calloused palm resting on the nape of your neck while you two lax on the sofa, he's always touching you. He feels discontent and half full when you aren't in his nearest vicinity, and it's the exact same when it comes to you two having sex. His rings dig into the flesh of your thighs as he hikes you up and fucks you back down on his shaft, his nails digging into your skin and creating temporary indentations in your forearms and waist, while you ride him and hold onto him like an anchor, needing him close to you as well. When he touches you, he feels complete.

Hickeys There isn't a single week that has gone by since you met James, where you haven't had a lovebite or a hickey bitten and sucked into your skin, unless he was on tour and you couldn't come with. Sometimes they'll be subliminal and well hidden, on the beginning of your groin and trailing down to where he knows you like them best. Other times they'll be glaringly obvious, displayed on your neck in red and purple hues, a light surge of pleasure flooding its way through you as people blush and glance away at the possessive and intended marks, and the slight pleasurable pain you felt when you graze your thumbs against the bruised flesh.

Intercrural If you're ever too sore or tired for a round, or another round, his second favorite place to grind and fuck against you is in between your thighs. He'd have you suck on his fingers until they're nearly dripping wet and fully soaked down to his third knuckle, before sliding them in between your awaiting legs and applying your spit to the soft skin of your thighs. He'd purposefully nudge his swollen cockhead against your clit if you were just tired, fingering you until you'd be close to cumming, before sliding home into you. But if you were too sore, he'd be mindful of his thrusts and thank you for allowing him to use you, satisfaction and satiation thrumming through him if you let him finish in your mouth.

Jealousy James rarely ever got jealous. But when he did, he got angry. The ugly feeling brewing inside of him made him want to lash out, but he'd calm down once he was able to acknowledge you politely declining other men's offers, and you instinctively making your way back over to him. If he was still upset afterwards, he'd take you back home or into another room wherever you two were at, and he'd hold your chin in a partially tight grip and make you meet his eyes in the mirror as he took you from behind. He'd have you repeat that he was yours and you were his, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he effortlessly brought you over the edge, the same eyes once again meeting his own later on while he apologized for his erratic and rough behavior.

Kissing It depended on the mood he was in, but for the most part, James' kisses are sweet and playful, always bordering on the line of inappropriate, even in public. He couldn't help it, his natural incline of always wanting to be near you bled into the way he wanted to kiss you as well. If it was a normal day and you two were greeting each other or parting ways, he'd swoop you in and caress his pair with yours, the rough graze of his facial hair always causing you to giggle. He'd take the slight part of your lips as an advantage, and sneak the tip of his tongue in to delicately and playfully run itself along the warm peak of your own. If he was adrenaline ridden and freshly off stage, he'd be erratic, his mouth incessant against yours and frenzied in a way that made you forget anyone else was around. If you two were alone, he'd take his time with you. Swallowing every single sigh of pleasure you exhaled out, and groaning into your inhale as you bit into his bottom lip to tug him impossibly closer, before switching positions and temporarily taking over.

Licking He's obsessed with the taste of you. Rather it be from your lips or thighs, or your pussy, he'd dive right in. Sometimes even playfully licking the side of your neck after tugging and tucking your hair back, your guys' matching laughter residing in the enclosed space of the room as you two register the groans coming from the other guys in the studio while they practice. Going back to him eating you out and him getting drunk off of it, he'd lap up your slick and let it roll around his tongue to savor the taste, before spitting it back onto you and attempting to eat you whole. He wouldn't be done with you until he either tired out, or you could no longer control your breathing and began to feel lightheaded.

Masturbation With James there with you, masturbation was the last possible thing on your mind. He fulfilled and satisfied you in every single way. But when he was on the road, you two enjoyed phone sex and mutual masturbation. You enjoyed hearing his cursed exhales and the shakiness in his tone as he whispered out your name, and he enjoyed hearing you slowly fall apart, the audible pop of your lips as they gaped around a silent scream, and the obscene sounds of the palm of your hand making contact with your sex as you rubbed and fingered yourself to completion. The hushed promises of seeing each other soon and you reassuring him of you already having bought a ticket and nearly being on the second to closest flight, and him knowing that even though he wasn't there with you physically you were still content and gratified, was enough to help ease his guilt of being away, and to help him fall asleep to the soft sound of your voice.

Non-negotiable There aren't many things James would say no to, but extreme rough punishment would have to be the biggest one. He found pleasure in spanking you and holding you down, edging you and overstimulating you, but the thought of harshly smacking you across the face and full on degrading you will always a pass for him. It wasn't that he didn't do or enjoy those things before or didn't do them to groupies and other minor flings in the earlier years of him being in the band, but the thought of him hurting you and you taking it personal and getting offended, made him physically recoil.

Orgasm James always enjoyed one upping himself, and making you cum and orgasm until you physically couldn't anymore, was something he considered that applied to. In a sense, your pleasure was, and is, his own. Every time he felt you convulse on top or underneath him, felt the warm and silky walls of your pussy tighten around his long and thick fingers, he felt himself nearly orgasm, his cockhead pearling with precum and pulsating every time like clockwork. The way your eyes would gloss over, and you'd nearly scream his name, the way you'd curl yourself against him from the force of your own climax, the way you'd milk him dry and manipulate your walls to contract and hold in his seed. He's always been an extremist, in life in general, and in the way he pushed himself musically, so of course he'd push himself to pleasure you too.

Positions Although you two enjoyed pushing each other to the limit at times and teasing each other, James' favorite position with you was missionary. With his hand curled around your throat, just present, and your legs draped over his broad shoulders. In missionary, he loved that he could see every single flicker of emotion on your face, and it was the easiest position for you to be able to grab ahold of him and keep him close, which is something you always love to do. He'd rest his forehead against yours as he fucked into you with reckless abandon, the irises of his eyes darkening as he stared into your own, and his free hand reaching down to rub it's middle and ring fingers harshly and adamantly against your swollen and hickied clit. He'd often grind his seed deep into you, before slowly pulling out to only lean back and slide his digits back inside, his kiss bruised lips raising into a lazed smirk as you would immediately tighten your legs and bracket him in as his fingers curled and massaged themselves against your spongelike and abused spot.

Quickie The adrenaline shooting through him after performing and being on stage for hours on end is unlike something most people would never be able to imagine or try to explain, so it's no surprise that after almost every single show you're present for, you two end up in a backstage room, or most likely than not, an abandoned bathroom or closet. The first time, you were terrified that you two would get caught and the band would get penalized, but after the few dozen, excitement fills you instead. You're nearly lifted each time and carried into one of the rooms, the roadies and managers and other band members looking away each time with hidden amusement and smiles, already knowing what was to come. You'd be placed in front of a mirror or on top of the sink, James standing in between your legs for easier access, before descending down onto you and taking you into his arms. Chilled glass would keep you in place as he ground himself against you, and if there was little to no barrier due to you wearing a dress or a skirt, he'd shove your underwear to the side and relish in the sounds you'd make as your clit rubbed and soaked through the denim covered zipper of his skin tight jeans. By the time you two were finished and nearly laughing at the absurdity of it, you'd both be panting, and the venue and backstage hallway would be nearly deserted.

Roleplay He loves when you pretend like you're a roadie, or a fan in the middle of the crowd. The knowing glint in your eye when you pretend to be lost or like it's the first time you two are meeting gets him every time. From the slow and hesitant touches, to the first touch of your guys' lips of the evening, to the confidence you two acquire once you both use your knowledge of each other's body to silently prove you both know exactly who each other are.

Sensitivity James loves the fact that you're overly sensitive in particular areas, specifically your inner thighs and the back of your neck. If there was a night where he felt like you teased him too much, or edged him, he would do the same to you, only in public. He'd innocently place his large and warm palm over the expanse of your bare thigh, and you'd think nothing of it at first. Only a small shock registering at the cool touch of his rings on your once and earlier covered skin. Your breath would begin to stutter, and you'd halt mid conversation, your eyes narrowing as you take in his wide smile hidden behind a casual hand tossed in front of his mouth, mirth and wild amusement dancing in the eyes you love to stare into. By the time you were finished with a few more sentences and your mutual friends were eating and partially distracted, your leg nearest to James would be over his closest to you, and his fingers would be grazing the outline of the tan fading near your bikini line, with his now unhidden and wide grin being pressed into the nape of your neck. "It isn't so fun to be teased, especially when you aren't expecting it, is it, baby?" He'd ask you, the only telltale sign of him being as affected as you are being the erection pressing itself against the back of your knee, and the slight strain in his usually steady and confident tone.

Threesome The idea of sharing you doesn't come easy to him, but if he were to think of the idea, he figures it would have to be someone you both knew well and were both comfortable with. It'd have to be one of the band members. The first one that comes to mind is Jason, since he's been known to be gentle and caring to his groupies and his past girlfriends. Kirk is next, since he's one of his best friends, and he knows that some of the things he's into, you'd be down to try as well. James also wouldn't be opposed to watching you get pleasured by somebody else, just so long as he was able to join in, and was the first man to make you cum. He eventually brings it up to you casually one day and laughs at the redness that evolves on your cheeks, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the expression he knows all too well on your face. He turns his head to the side and grins to himself, making a quiet reminder to ask them whether or not they'd like to join in on something special for your upcoming birthday.

Universal Everyone enjoys head. Whether or not they're giving or receiving changes that entirely, but luckily, especially for James, you loved to please him. He loved the way you'd grip him by the waist and hold him down, only to take him down to the hilt and brush your nose against his trimmed happy trail anyway. He loved the way you'd swallow around him and gasp at the feeling of him pulsating down your throat, as if you hadn't done this to him hundreds of times already. The way you'd twist both of your fisted hands around his shaft and paid extra attention to the long vein that traveled up from the base of his dick, all the way up to his tip. He'd force himself to keep his eyes open as you swirled your tongue around it to collect the translucent pre-ejaculate, only to use it as lubricant to swallow him down once again. You'd release your hands from around him to reach down and lightly massage at his ballsack, warmth filling your gut at the sounds he'd let out, some wispy and light, and some heavy and nearly baritone. By the time his seed and release made their way down your throat, tears were streaming down your face, spit collected around your lips, and your jaw was sore, yet you still managed to have a smile on your face regardless and in spite of it all.

Vibrator Toys weren't necessarily something that were brought into your guys' shared bedroom very often, but you ended up buying one anyway, as a surprise for James for when he gets back home from tour. By the time that you opened the front door to welcome him back home and inside, he had already bent down to kiss you. And by the time that you both neared the entrance of the bedroom, you two were laughing into each other's mouths and attempting to not trip on the tight bottoms of his pants. Tangled limbs make contact with the soon to be unmade bed, and you fix your expression to look innocent as James' back makes contact with the box you lied haphazardly on top of the blanket. You barely had time to explain how to use the toy and what it's use was before he had it unpackaged and ready to go. The sun was setting by the time you two were finished, the sitting vibrator nearly dead from the hour or two use, with your thighs and lower back on fire. Sweat clung to your neckline, and James carefully collects you in bed, before depositing you down next to him and wrapping an arm around your waist. You turn your head from the smaller spooning position and can't help but beam at the blissed out and worry free look on your boyfriend's face, his eyes already closed, yet the hand he has splayed out on your bare stomach still caressing your midsection. "Whatever idea you have next," he murmurs, his voice almost incoherent as he rests his head in the warm cavern of your shoulder and clavicle. "I don't care what it is. If it's as good as that was, let's do it. Twice."

Where Your guys' favorite place to have sex was in the kitchen, surprisingly. It was where you both broke in your home together, with you originally laid out on the brand new tiled island, with your hands sliding against the cool exterior, as James used your ponytail for leverage to hold you in place as he took you from the side. This time, you were both standing, you earlier being preoccupied by attempting to surprise him with a late breakfast in bed. James had made his way as quietly as he could behind you, breathing out a silent laugh in the extra space of his large shirt swimming on you, the warmth of his smile welcomed as a chill made its way through the opened window near the stove. You both had enough common sense to turn off the burner and move the half finished meal out of the way, before you spread your legs and arched yourself over the wide expanse of the counter in front of you. Before the cool air could shock you, James fisted his shirt and lifted it to rest near your shaking forearms, before beckoning forward and sliding into you. You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that you two had gone a few rounds the night prior, and he had worked you open earlier that morning. Sun rays bled their way into the opened window as you gripped onto whatever you could reach, your hips narrowly missing the hard impact of solidity as James drove himself into with finesse and ease. The only sounds making their way outside was his harsh pants and praises, and your enthusiastic, yet exhausted moans.

X Factor James' favorite thing about you is that you give him as much as he gives you. If he were to eat you out the night prior, you'd wake him up with a blowjob. If he was tired, you'd take the lead. If you were riled up and frustrated, he'd help you decompress. No matter the distance and circumstances, you both made time for each other, to keep the spark and interest alive, and to make sure that each other both felt loved and fulfilled.

Yes and No James was known to be the dominant one in bed. He was used to being on top, to guiding his partners into a sloppy session of head, to being rough. But he realized that while being with you, it still felt just as rewarding with you to take care of him and for you to sometimes take the lead. At first when it was first brought up, he wasn't so sure. Not because he wasn't interested, but because of the lingering thought and fear that you would think differently of him afterwards. But every time you rode him, you allowed him to control your hip movements. Every time you went down on him, you pleasured him as well as he pleasured you. Being with you helped him realize that although being dominant was in his nature, it didn't mean that it meant he always had to be rough and overly domineering. It took meeting the right woman to figure that out. To allow him to lead, even while relaxing and taking in pleasure at the same time.

Zip At times when you both needed to have a quickie and it was even less than convenient than all of the other times, you were forced to be quiet, both to your own and James' dismay. He loved the sound of your mewls and moans, the way your voice and tone would tremble as he took you apart and then brought you back together. But you both had quiet quickies so often as the studio and at the other guy's houses, that you two found a way to make it more exciting. Instead of just biting into one of yours' discarded t-shirts, James would instead place his fingers into your mouth, and the dual sensation of heat, both around his fingers and around his dick, was enough to make the quiet seem much louder. Spit would trickle down his wrist and make its way down to your breasts, and the glisten it would shine in the dimmed lights of the bathroom or nearest room somehow made it seem like less of a low maintenance fuck, and more of a heightened experience. It is true, what they say about experiences. It doesn't matter what happens, just who you have around when they do occur.

Baseline ༯ Lars Ulrich (18+)

Your sports bag clings to your upper hip like a second skin as you make your way inside of the town you're visiting's local tennis club, an easygoing and excited smile lifting your reddened features despite your distain towards the engulfing heat, and its accompanied dry air making everything seem much more dense and heavier. The sound of children's animated laughter and the scuffs of their court shoes easily take over the now fading dual cacophony of blaring horns and annoyed shouts from the stoplight now a few yards away, and you nearly close your eyes in bliss as a cool breeze filters through, while the door slowly closes to latch itself behind your half clothed and cloying back.

They widen instead and quickly flicker to the right as a cold hand encircles itself around your forearm to fully tug you in, and you force yourself to take in a shaky breath as a girl around your age sends you an apologetic grimace and hastily takes a step back, her hand falling in tow. "Sorry about that, you probably couldn't hear me over all of the kids," she falters out, the slight stutter in her cadence and her obvious nervousness helps the rest of your hesitance and wariness dissipate. "You just look like a volunteer, and we're ten more kids away from a disaster and a shit show. I'm pulling at straws here."

"Well, luckily for you," You start, before playfully trailing off. Grinning amusedly at her words, you blindly reach back in search for the zipper on your bag, your eyes squinting with the enormity of your mirth as she lets out a cheer as soon as she sees the forest green polo in your raised fist. "What's going on, anyway? The last time I was here to sign up, this place was deserted, and now I can barely even see the exit to the courts from here." You raise an eyebrow as a group of excited parents and young teenagers eagerly make their way through the crowd, the matching shirts they have on and the lettering printed on them blurred with how fast they were clumsily attempting to travel through the packed lobby and front room. You halfheartedly toss your assigned shirt over your head, tugging your ponytail out of the back of the collar as you look around and shift your bag to each shoulder to slide your arms through the sleeve holes.

"Some metal band surprised us with a donation and agreed to come and watch the kids play for the day. They thought it would help us raise some more funds for the tennis club we've been saving up for to build on the other side of town." Your grin softens at her answer, and you allow her to grab ahold of your arm again to help guide you through the ever growing crowd, it beginning to look more like a concert than a place for people to play and practice at with each second that passes. By the time you two make it to the exit and open double doors, shoulders and elbows are leaning into your own and almost forcibly pushing you forward. Relief floods through you as the familiar hot and bright rays of sunbeams beat down on you as you two finally make it past the doors, and you have to rush to duck as a man yells and thrusts his hands in your direction. Falling down into a squat, you murmur a rushed curse and hold back an incredulous laugh as the man behind you nearly jumps over your crouched form in haste to make it further into the traveling crowd.

The hand still clutching onto you tugs you toward the left, near a half empty and older looking tennis court, and you wince as you feel droplets of sweat collect on the precipice of your eyebrows and temple. "We're only going to be teaching the kids how to ground stroke and approach, so we have the easy beginner's class today." You lift a hand to brush away the perspiration before straightening your fingers out and using them as a makeshift visor, your expression easing up and softening as the eager handfuls of kids look at you two with anticipation, the rackets in their hands almost looking too heavy for them to carry on their own. They let out a synchronized cheer once you two ask if they're ready to learn and have some fun, and your prior excitement for volunteering comes back full swing as you watch them attempt to balance their softened balls on their specialized rackets.

After you two eventually ease into your roles and you manage to almost perfect the moves with a shy boy who was struggling earlier on, you glance over after feeling eyes on you for a while and freeze as yours effortlessly meet with a familiar pair of green. What once were long bangs are now layered and cut short and pushed back, and the soft face you used to always hold onto and look forward to seeing, is now half covered in neat and maintained facial hair. Yet, his eyes still looked the same. You think they always will. The sound of your racket and tennis ball audibly connecting with the hard surface of the court's ground shocks you out of your stupor, and you hurriedly bend down to grab ahold of them once again. Brushing off your new friend's worry, you throw yourself back into coaching and demonstrating, pressuring yourself not to look back over at the man you haven't seen in almost six years. The man who left you behind.

༯

Despite knowing Lars could be as little and less than twenty feet away, you still had an amazing time. Acting out the plays and beginner moves ended up helping you let out some of your own personal frustration, and the kids' sounds of awe every time you and your co-volunteer reenacted an actual game made it even better. By the time you two set up and scored three games of doubles so each child would be able to play an all set, and they were tired out and ready to head home, the sun was setting, and the earlier crowd of parents and add on relatives was drastically dwindling down. You graciously accept the towel being handed to you and chug down the nearest cold drink, before flipping the plastic cup over with a flick of your thumb and index finger onto the folding table in front of you, grinning victoriously as you get a single round of applause after it lands on its head.

You reach back to fan yourself off with the back of your shirt, before taking it off once again, the sports bra you have on underneath nearly being completely soaked through. "Don't think any rockstars are going to want to get near or between any of this." Your new friend comments with her hand gesturing in between the two of you. You glance down before shrugging, using one of your hands to flatten out the wrinkles embedded in your dirtied skirt. "Least of my worries." You rebut, refusing to allow the tone in your voice to waver or sound emotional.

If she notices anything off about your response, she doesn't bring it up or acknowledge it. "You should stick back for a while. There are public showers, and management is supposed to be throwing a private thank you party for the band that came and stayed here all day," before you can decline, she continues. "The drummer was the one that ended up planning for them to stay. My friend told me that the guys were looking over the list of volunteers and the schedule, and once they were done, he came up with the idea on the spot. Either way, it helped out a lot of people." You nod along, swallowing thickly, the urge to flee turning into a feeling of defeat once you realize that he had the band come and stay back to have the opportunity to see you again. If he went through all of that trouble, then he should at least have the chance and the opportunity to get to say a proper goodbye.

"Yeah, I'll stay back," you accede, reaching down to grasp onto the thick strap of your bag once you hear footsteps approaching from behind. You look over your shoulder to find him stopping mid step, his expression full of uncertainty and something else, maybe hope. "How about I meet up with you in the bathroom, so we can both take a shower? I'll just be a minute or two." She agrees and goes to walk toward the double doors, only stopping in her tracks once to peer back at you with a knowing glint in her eye.

You shakily run your thumb over the uneven and worn out velcro of the strap, before nodding your head to the side and making your way over to an empty court. Bright light emanating from one of the office's sensors luminates the area, and the dangling earring in his ear shines and reflects onto the metal pole beside you, causing mini orbits of artificial trails of short illumination. "You did all of this so you could say goodbye?" You watch as the expression on Lars' face turns bleak, hopeless.

"Five and half years ago, I left to go to California," He states, and you nod, sending him a look of confusion. "Five years and two months ago, I wrote you my first letter, and I didn't get one sent back saying your apartment was vacant until three months later. Which means that for the past five and a half years, I haven't had the chance to tell you how sorry I am for not saying goodbye to you before I left." You sharply inhale, narrowing your eyes to try and collect the tears threatening to fall. You place your bag onto the floor so you can wrap your arms around yourself for comfort.

"I couldn't stay there anymore. We practically lived there together for the entire two years of the lease, and it didn't feel the same once you were gone. I had to get out," you confess, finally finding enough courage to consistently look him in the eye. "I understand why you're here, and if closure is what you need, I can give that to you. I don't know why you'd need it, you've been doing really well these past few years," you loosen an arm to wipe a stray tear off of your cheek, each inhale and exhale you manually take feeling like it'll be the last the longer you look back at him. "No matter what happened to have you leave without saying goodbye to me, I am still, so, completely fucking proud of you. I know how much work you put in to get to where you are today. All of you guys, really. I keep up."

Lars laughs wetly, temporarily shocking you still as his eyes well up. "You've been keeping up with us?" He breathes out in question, awe weighing down his tone, the way he shakes his head showing his genuine disbelief and surprise. "Yeah," you smile. "You, James, Cliff, Kirk and Jason." You recollect with ease, biting your bottom lip to hide a small smile. Lars reaches an arm out to touch you, but then stops himself, causing your hidden smile to falter.

"I didn't not say goodbye because you did something wrong," he reveals, gazing at you intently, as if he were to look away then you'd disappear. "I had a fear that if I were to say goodbye to you, then that would be the end of us, or of where we were at. I know that's fucking stupid, and it doesn't make any sense, but that's where my head was at. We were in a really good place, and I knew that if I were to tell you that I had a plan set in stone and that I had a feeling things were going to work out this time, you would have packed all of your things and moved with me. I couldn't do that to you. You finally had your own life, and you were stable, and if you were to have left with me, it would have fucked everything up for you."

You furrow your eyebrows in exasperation and take a step forward, watching as his pupils dilate the closer you get to him. "I would have gone with you regardless, because I love you." You blurt, closing your eyes in mortification as soon as you realize what you just admitted. Silence rings in your ears momentarily, and your heart pounds, before you begin to hear movement coming towards you. You jump as a warm and slightly calloused hand lightly grips onto your chin and tilts your head upward. "Look at me," Lars asks of you, pleads. "Please, just look at me."

Hope stares back at you, and you meet it with your own as you reach up to encapsulate your hand around his. "I haven't stopped loving you. Regardless of what you may have seen or read, within every second I've been awake, my first and last thought of every single day have been and are always about you. As soon as I saw your name on the list, I knew I had to try. No matter the risk of whether or not you hated me, I just needed to see you again. Needed to make sure you were alright, to see if you were real." His accent slurs and thickens as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, and he shudders around a flattened exhale as you wrap your free hand and arm around his shoulders to bring him in closer. You feel his heartbeat against your own chest, and subconsciously, they begin to synchronize. You grin as his nose brushes atop yours, and you let out a loud guffaw at the look on his face as he leans in to kiss you, and you back away.

"You can't kiss me here," You banter, your grin widening as he looks at you in confusion. You nod down toward the court's ground, where you two stand in between the service line and the baseline. "We're in no man's land. We've got to follow the rules. I thought you were the original tennis master. Unless you forgot?" Lars glances down at your lips and you shudder, the look in his eyes still familiar after all these years. A strong arm wraps itself around your middle and lifts you up, and you watch him smile to himself as your arm resting on top of his shoulders tightens with caution. You hesitantly wrap your legs around his waist and begin to relax once you felt sure he wasn't going to let go, your laughter returning after he stops right before the baseline. He loosens his grip around your waist, and you connect your ankles behind his back to assure him you were okay with being held, before repositioning your forehead against his.

"Are we good now, still following the rules?" Lars inquires in a low tone, intimate and warm, just like before, all those years ago. "We're good now, there's just one thing I need you to do for me." His eyes become lidded, heavy from just the drop of tone in your voice alone.

"Anything." He immediately agrees, with conviction. You brush your lips against his and kiss him softly, before leaning back to look at him directly in the eye.

"Take a shower with me."

༯

Your lips sting as you're carefully carried into the bathroom minutes later, once you're both sure everyone else would be out by then, a mixture of your guys' spit on your lips and the heady taste of him all over your tongue leaving you lightheaded. You force yourself to stand on your own momentarily, before Lars is backing you up into a stall, his mouth already back on yours within only a few seconds of being off.

You flinch as your back makes contact with the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, your chest now exposed after Lars easily unclasped the front with just a simple flick of his wrist and two fingers. Warm and wet lips cascade themselves down your jawline and the side of your neck, a mewl escaping from you every time he nestles his teeth enough into your sensitive skin to leave a mark. By the time that he was on his knees on the wet floor and was slowly hiking your skirt higher up on your hips, your thighs were pressed tightly together, and you couldn't stop your legs from tremoring.

"Think you can be quiet for me?" He offers you as he slides your underwear to the side and dips his head underneath the white and rumpled fabric. You reach down to entangle your fingers in his hair enough to tug his head back, ignoring the pulsation in your clit at the quiet grunt he lets out. You freeze as footsteps echo and make their way into a stall only a few away from yours, but Lars just grins up at you, his irises blown wide and his facial expression enamored. His fingers slide up your thigh, and he flicks at your essence soaked sex, quietly laughing at the way you toss your head back, your stomach muscles contracting and your swollen lips parting in a muted moan just by the single touch alone.

"There's someone else in here," you chastise in a rough whisper, fighting back the urge to smile back at him, his own being contagious and hard to ignore. "And I haven't showered yet." You curse quietly as he ducks back under the fabric and licks a fat stripe, all the way from your fluttering hole, up to the ending of your groin. You spread your legs and attempt to steady yourself, knowing that once he starts, he isn't going to finish until he feels like he's done with you. You arch your back and hitch your hips forward as he slowly takes you apart, his tongue elongating and straightening out enough to make its way inside of you to caress at your walls, while the hand not pressing into your thigh relentlessly rubs at your clit in figure 8's.

You flinch as a water faucet whines to life and you subconsciously stop his movements once again by yanking on his mane, buckling forward and lips stretching into an O as his hand on your thigh slides around the smooth expanse and up to smack your ass. Your eyes water from the sting, yet you push back into his hand to ask for more. Lars slides his tongue out from inside of you and follows your fist in his hair to come up from under your skirt. The sight of him is enough to nearly make you cum. His hair is distressed, standing on the ends, with your slick and pre release sticking and dripping down the length of his chin, and to his neck in thick, translucent lines.

"Like I wouldn't want to taste you exactly how you are," he grins out, looking drunk as you guides two fingers into your velvet heat, adamantly following every single movement of yours with his eyes as he thrusts them upwards in search for your spongelike spot. He finds it easily, and he allows you to kneel next to him once your legs begin to give out, your chest beginning to heave as he takes your right breast into his mouth and uses his free hand to guide you to ride his fingers. You release your grip from his hair, the sound of your pussy harshly slapping against his fingers and wrist now audible, and the force behind your riding enough to coerce his palm to curl upward and make rough contact with your pearling clit.

"Oh god," you whimper, feeling overstimulated even though you haven't cum yet. You lean forward and rest your head on top of his for stability, the slight tug on your nipple from his teeth and hot tongue in the cold air causing shivers to wrack your spine and for you to tremble. "I'm going to cum, please don't stop." You sob around a cry of his name, uncaring if your voice and choked out moans overpower the showerhead running only a few feet away, your only thoughts surrounded on who's finally here with you and who's making you feel this way.

"Good girl," Lars praises in a husked voice, looking fucked out himself as he tilts your head up to lick your own taste into your mouth. You slide your appendage against his as best as you can, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he begins to scissor his fingers and rub his calloused palm against your oversensitive and beading clit, your folds acting as a suction to keep him from straying too far. You immediately freeze in place as the faucet is hastily yanked to the opposite side to stop the flow of water after a particularly loud moan, and you can't help the cry you let out when you cum against his soaking wet hand. "Keep being loud, let them know exactly who you're with. Just like that."

You clench around his digits as you seize against him, nearly yelling out his name in relief once you hear feet quickly slapping on top of tile to exit the bathroom in haste. Lars continues to fuck his fingers in and out of you with an upward twist until you have tears streaming down your face, and you're fully sat on his lap. "You did so well for me, look at you," he murmurs in a soft tone, uncaring of how disheveled you looked. With the tears streaming down your face, your still shaking body, your own slick glistening on your chin. "What else do you need from me, baby?"

"Need you to do whatever you want to me," you pant once you're able to slightly catch your breath, letting out a sigh of relief as soon as your overheated and blushed skin brushes against the cool tile on the wall. "Just want to make you feel good." A warm pair of lips press themselves to the crown of your head, and you're barely told to hold on tight before you're being lifted up again, your ruined and wet underwear sliding from around your left court shoe, and down straight onto the damp floor in the middle of the walkway as you're carried over to the sink.

"I've been feeling good since I saw you for the first time in over five years, five hours ago. But alright, angel," he says in a calm and placating way, gently placing you down on your unreliable feet, only letting go of his embrace around you to turn you to face the mirror. "I need you to hold onto the sink for me, nice and tight. Spread those beautiful legs for me," he brushes the frizzed strands of hair away from your face that fell out of your ponytail earlier and grins against your ear. "Arch your back for me." Anticipation and adrenaline run through you as you feel and hear him shift behind you and unzip his jeans.

You follow his instructions and moan loudly when he gives you a rewarding smack on the ass, before sheathing himself inside of you with one smooth movement of his hips. You melt back into his front yet still hold onto the sink for leverage, and you keep your eyes open to watch his reaction to the feeling of you for the first time in years through the reflection. Lars' mouth gapes open at the first thrust, the heat emanating off your constricting walls enough to take all of his words away. But before you can begin to feel triumphant, he settles you down with a solid drive straight against your cervix. The rough and audible slap of his hips making their way to connect with yours ricochets off the bathroom's walls and makes its way back over to you, and you can only hold on as soon as he twists his fingers in your hair to hold you in place.

Your neck tilts back with every small tug on your hair, each inch you're driven forward by his dick and backward by his fist makes the hickies and bruises interwoven and bitten into your skin even more apparent underneath the artificial light. You wail and tighten impossibly tight around him as he uses his free hand to yank you back and bear you down even further onto him, and him even deeper inside you. Your second orgasm is even stronger than your first, untouched, with your vision blurring and your legs completely giving out underneath you. Lars has to release your hair to half lift you in the air while he continues to use you, every pivoting movement of his hips and his length into you making you feel like you were still cumming even minutes later.

"So fucking perfect for me." He grunts into your ear, his words nearly slurring and becoming incoherent as he lifts and lowers you onto his cock in small increments, before impaling himself fully into you and stilling, filling you with his seed. You lean forward once you're placed back near the sink and greedily suck in air, your head feeling heavy and your stomach in a pleasurable knot as he carefully pulls out of you. Lars encircles his arms around you and sends you a small and satiated smile in the mirror, only moving to stop you from reaching for the paper towel to wipe yourself clean of his seed slowly making its way down your shaking leg.

He bends down to place a kiss on your red and bruising ass, before sweeping down to collect his seed on his fingertips. By the time he's back to his full height and gently maneuvering you around to face him, you already know what you need to do. Tilting your head backwards and opening your mouth, you greedily accept every drop and every finger slowly deposited into your mouth. Licking them clean and nearly dry, you pull yourself away and slowly hitch your skirt back down into place as footsteps make their way back towards the bathroom. Lars takes off his shirt and lifts it up, before carefully placing it over your head. A girl walks in by the time he has his jeans back on and zipped up, and your hair is back in a manageable ponytail.

"You ready to go home?" He asks you in a gentle tone as the girl makes her way past, who greets you two with an innocent and unknowing smile as she does so. You grin up at him and tearfully nod, before shakily bending down to retrieve your bra and underwear from the ground.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go home."

A to Z ⭒ Kirk Hammett (18+)

Ask It was one thing to ask, and an entirely other thing to plead and beg. And Kirk loves it when you beg. From the first crack in your voice, down to the quivering of your bottom lip and chin, and the first whine you let out and mewl. It brings him personal pleasure to know how much you need him, and how desperate you end up becoming when he deprives you of it. He'd only give in once you're shedding a tear and writhing, or once you begin to look overwhelmed and like you truly can't wait or hold on any longer. His second favorite thing is when you finally cum around him, - whether it be his tongue, dick, or fingers- and you thank him with the little amount of oxygen you have left, your entire body shaking and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He loves bringing you down to your basic wants and desires in bed, and allowing you to forget about everything else in that moment.

Bondage He'd use anything he had around him if he felt like you were in the right headspace to be restrained and held back, like your underwear or his belt. He finds security in the amount of trust you give him when you hand over your ability to fully move around, and it gives him more leeway to position you in whichever way he pleases during sex or foreplay. He loves watching you pant as he goes down on you, his cockhead pearling with pre-ejaculate as he watches you strain against the leather of his belt or the material of your underwear, before your release coats his tongue, and the taste of you convinces him into another round of sticking his appendage inside of you and fingering you until you cry.

Cunnilingus Kirk is both a giver and a receiver, and sometimes he prefers both at the same time. When he does, it mostly ends up with you sitting on his face, your slick clit finding friction on the stubble covering his chin while you swallow around him, down to the hilt with tears in your eyes. Sometimes, he blindly holds you up and grips onto your waist to help you grind against him, while his tongue rubs itself on the walls of your inner silk and brings you over the edge. Other times, he's lazily lapping at your weeping entrance as he bears his hips upward to fuck into your slobbering and wet mouth, his feet planted on the bed underneath him for leverage as he continuously uses your throat.

Dirty Talk He knows that the low tone in his voice as he teases you and whispers into your ear drives you crazy, so he uses it to his own advantage, even at inappropriate times. If you even bend over to pick something up, he's making his way over to you, pulling you flush against his front, and making you blush in front of everyone else in the room. He brushes his lips on the soft cartilage of your earlobe and grins to himself as he feels you shiver and subconsciously begin to lean into his touch and warmth. As soon as he promises to bend you over somewhere near, even lower than you had just been, whatever plans you two made earlier would be ruined, and you two would rush off to ensure he kept his word, even if you two were in public.

Edging Although he loves to tease you and bring you close to the edge, just to stop and do it again until you beg, he enjoys edging himself too. If you two are having slow morning sex and he wants to make it last longer, to keep himself buried inside of you, he'd make sure to pause every time you orgasmed and brought him near, just to continue to feel you tighten around him and attempt to milk him dry. It would make his eventual orgasm twice as strong, and it'd sensitize you and keep you feeling full. If you were in the mood for cockwarming, he'd make sure to keep you near and in his lap, and only fuck into you whenever you were ready, and edge you both until the two of you became overstimulated and felt satiated.

Foreplay If he was going to engage in foreplay with you, he was going to take his time. You two would start outside of the bedroom, and eventually make your way inside. He'd lightly kiss you and make you arch into his gentle touches, so soft it'd nearly have you taking initiative and grabbing at him. He'd have you close your eyes as he licked his way down the areas of your unclothed skin, and take advantage of your lack of visual sensory. He'd have you pressing yourself into every unknown touch he'd give you, and you'd be gasping and soaking through your underwear before you even managed to get onto the bed. Once he had you there and almost fully undressed, he'd be out of patience, and he'd stop teasing you. Warm, calloused fingertips would dig themselves into your skin and situate you into a position where you're on your knees, and you'd whimper out his name as he flattened himself in between your spread-out legs to push the cotton to the side and get his first taste of you, with your eyes still squeezed shut.

Groping There was rarely ever a time where his hands weren't on you in some way, and if they weren't, the people around you two would assume there was something wrong. He wouldn't be overly affectionate or clingy, but his hands would be on you often, to assure you he was there, and that you were his. If at some point his hands were occupied while you were around, your leg was either on top of his, or your own would be carding at the hairs collecting themselves against his nape and upper back. With how comfortable and used to each other the two of you two just so happen to be, that's where the groping comes in. Sometimes he forgot about boundaries, at least the one's the two of you placed while you two were in public. He'd subconsciously rest his hands in the back pockets of your jeans and lightly grab at your ass while in mid- conversation, leaving you to force yourself not to blush and turn your head to hide your face in his chest. If he was drunk, it'd be even worse. He'd have his mouth attached to the side of your neck, sucking and biting marks into your bruising flesh, and his free hand not holding onto his beer, sliding its way down to the hem of your underwear, uncaring of who was around to see and watch. If it was just you guys at home, he'd have a relaxed hand splayed anywhere from on top of one of your breasts, down to your ankle resting on his lap. If you were in close vicinity, he was on you, or you were on him.

Hickeys You're covered in them. Some are obvious, like on your neck, and some are hidden. Private. They mostly traveled in a trail, where they start on your neck, and end near the backs of your knees. Sometimes they were made and sucked and bitten into you during foreplay and sex, and other times, while you two were relaxing and watching tv or lying down next to each other. Kirk just loves every inch of you, and has an oral fixation from hell. If he isn't kissing you or preoccupied with something else, he's pressing kisses on the tops of your hands, or creating different sized hickeys to cover the entirety of half of your skin. You didn't mind them all that much, and secretly found pleasure when he pressed down on them days later, the small twinge of pain turning into warmth in your groin as his hands made their way down further.

Intercrural He loves the dual sensation of you sucking on his cockhead while he fucks himself through your squeezed together breasts. Even though they're missing the tightness and warmth of your walls, he loves seeing your tongue elongated and hungrily peeking out to get a taste of his prerelease. He'd tease you with his tip, and laugh to himself as you tried to wrap your lips around his girth, only for him to pull himself away and continue to use your chest as a temporary substitute for your pussy. By the time he came on your chest, neck and lips, your tongue was still hanging out, your chest was heaving, and spit trailed itself down from your mouth in translucent and semi white globs.

Jealousy Kirk was never too prone to jealously himself, but when he did get jealous, he wouldn't get angry or vengeful. He would simply shut himself down and isolate. You would notice him acting off faster than anyone else, since you two were usually attached by the hip, and you would quickly make your way back over to him as soon as you did. He would settle almost immediately as soon as you wrapped yourself around him, and would eventually laugh it off once you explained to him who the other person was and what they wanted. Him telling you he was alright wouldn't be enough for you, and you intentionally stuck by him for the rest of the night while you two were out, whispering reassurances to him during the rest of the event, and riding him once the two of made it back home. You'd rest your forehead against his and grind home after each time you lifted your hips, pelvis to pelvis, proving to him that you were his as much as he was yours. Insurmountably.

Kissing Kissing Kirk felt different every single time, because it depended on when it happened and what type of mood you two were in. If it was early in the morning, it'd be a simple, tired peck, unless either one of you woke the other up with a favor. If you hadn't seen him because he was on tour, it'd be frantic and messy, with both of your guys' lips being bruised red by the time you pulled away. If it was a goodbye kiss, it'd be gentle and long lasting. Either way, they all felt meaningful, and each had a purpose. One as simple as a forehead kiss as he came back home from the studio felt more memorable than a romantic gesture from any of your past lovers, and that says a lot. Every single kiss, touch, embrace and second with Kirk felt monumental, and it felt the very same way for him too.

Licking If his hands weren't on you and yours weren't on him, there was a good chance his mouth was. He loves to lick and mark you up while edging you and pushing you to your limits. One of his favorite ways to do so, is to kiss and lick and mark you up, while simultaneously not touching you at all with his hands. He'd have you stay in place, with your hands over your head and your legs spread out to rest on either side of the bed, teasing you to your wits end. You'd have licked over love bites and marks trailing their way all the way down to your pussy and your thighs before he even put his hands on you, and once he did, you were a goner. He loved the taste of you from your tongue, your skin, your sweat, the moans you emitted, everything. If it was a part of you, he wanted a taste, and he got it.

Masturbation He loved to watch you touch yourself. But as much as he liked to watch, he loved to record it. He brought up the idea of you two making a tape a year into your guys' relationship, and you said yes. You two would mutually masturbate and wind each other up, and then meet each other in the middle afterwards and fuck like animals. When it got to the point to where he had to go on tour and you couldn't come with, he made a second copy, and brought it with him as a keepsake, and something to help keep him sane while he had to be away from you. The visual of him taking you from behind while you both lied on your sides, with his hand in your hair holding you in place while you two shared a filthy kiss, would have him cumming for months on end in his hands. And when you two eventually saw each other again, you watched it together, and then relived the tape out in person.

Non-negotiable Both you and Kirk are down to try almost anything once, and he loves that part of your guys' relationship, but there are still a few things he says hard no to. And those things are the lack of verbal consent, and lack of communication. While he enjoys how adventurous you two like to be, your safety and comfortability are his two main priorities. As much as you love the sound of his voice, he loves yours as well, and that includes when you verbalize to him what feels right, and what feels wrong, or too overwhelming. The last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you in any single way that isn't pleasurable or gaining.

Orgasm One orgasm is never enough, and it somehow ends up becoming a game for you two. If someone ended up cumming more than the other at some point, then the next time the two of you end up having sex, the one who came less the last time gets to cum first. There were loopholes, of course. If either one of you were edging the other, it wouldn't count. Kirk somehow ended up counting how many days he'd have to be away from you for a leg of a tour, and made a promise to you that before he left for it, he'd make you cum twice the number of days he'd be gone. He kept his promise, and then doubled the already doubled amount. But of course, you had to make things even. By the time he left for tour, you two had tripled the number of orgasms you two normally had within a month of being together. You two didn't even think that was physically possible.

Positions Every position for the both of you was pleasurable, but your guys' mutual favorite had to be doggy style. The way you would backward thrust to meet his own forward, the way he would grip the back of your neck to hold you upright after your arms would give out, the way he'd smack and grip at your ass for leverage, made every other sexual position seem mediocre. Especially if it was happening in front of a mirror, which you two had a few feet away from the foot of the bed. It gave you two enough visibility no matter the lighting to be able to see each other's facial features, to be able to see what affected you two the most and when. Kirk loved being able to see the way your mouth would gape open when strands of your hair would get tangled in the grip he had on your nape, and you loved being able to see his earlier calm and confident expression break every time you matched his efforts and tightened around him.

Quickie Just like most of the other members, Kirk liked the backstage rooms for a quick fuck. But his favorite place to have a quickie with you was on stage, a day or two before a show, and only a few minutes after everyone else cleared out. It was a combination of adrenaline and the risk of getting caught if someone were to wander or come back, and seeing you watch him intently while they rehearsed and got everything arranged, got to him every time. He loved to eat you out on the front stage, and fuck you near where he stored and kept his guitars at for safe keeping. Eventually, after a few times and at multiple different locations, you came to know what every surface of a stage felt like, and you two were eventually caught. Luckily it was just a roadie, and afterwards you two swore to never do it again. That was until you two went on tour together for the first time. After that, Kirk's main excuse was that it brought him good luck, and you just rolled with it.

Roleplay As cliche as it could possibly get, you enjoyed pretending like you were lost, and Kirk was the only one around to help you. He got off on how you acted innocent and confused, and you got off on the way he would guide you and tell you where to go and what to do. Sometimes you'd pretend to be someone new on the crew, and you didn't know where to put your things. Kirk would come in and he'd show you around with a hand low on your back and his eyes fucking you. When he eventually got you to where you were supposed to be, you'd thank him by getting on your knees, or inviting him into the shower, depending on the location and who you were pretending to be that time while roleplaying. If you two wanted to be romantic and playful at the same time, you two would reenact your first date together, and the first time you two had sex. Either way, it was a lot of fun, and something you two could smile and laugh about afterwards.

Sensitivity Kirk's sensitive spots are his chest and groin, and you take full advantage of knowing that information. Whenever you get the chance to, most likely when he's allowing you to take charge or you're giving him a favor early in the morning, you're kissing and licking every single inch of his chest, before nipping and biting your way down to his groin. You're teasing and kissing around his dick and inner thigh until his cock gets red and hard, and its jumping with every light breath you cascade over it. When you finally decide he's been played with and wound up enough and you wrap your swollen lips around him, he's already tight in his abdomen and his ballsack is raised. He lies back and uses a gentle hand to guide you down his entire length, until your nose is making contact with the short hairs dusting themselves around his pubic bone. He pulls you off of him once he feels he's close and uses the natural slick of your spit to slide himself right into you, thankful that you're still stretched out from the night before. Then, he takes advantage of your sensitive spots. Your breasts, and the backs of your upper thighs. Red splotches cover the skin underneath your asscheeks, and hickeys surround your nipples once you're both finished with each other. Temporarily.

Threesome Kirk is probably the only member in the band most likely willing to share his partner and have a threesome, just so long as you both know the other person well and are comfortable with them. If he had to pick between the other three, it'd have to be James. He's the member he feels like you would have the most sexual compatibility with other than himself, and that he'd know when to be rough with you and when not to be. Kirk would also most likely be into seeing you getting fucked and used by someone he knows, while also still knowing that you're all his and he can control whether or not it happens again, or if he wants it to stop. He'd join in and either fuck you with James at the same time, or slowly fuck your mouth while James drives himself into you from behind, your ass high in the air and him mounting you while you moan around Kirk's shaft and grip onto his hands for stability.

Universal Everyone loves a good cumshot, and Kirk isn't excluded from that. Although he loves to pump his seed inside of you and fill you to the brim, he also loves to see his release covering you, and how it stands out against the color of the expanse of your skin. He also loves to feed it to you afterwards, and nearly gets hard all over again every time you obediently open your mouth and wrap your tongue around his digits. His favorite place to come on you if not inside, is either your face, or the bottom of your stomach. Sometimes if he's feels like he should have come inside of you instead, he'll skip out on feeding it to you, and finger it inside of you. The oversensitivity from just orgasming would have your legs shaking, and Kirk wouldn't stop until you came from him not only using your release, but his as well, to make you wet enough to cum all over again.

Vibrator He loves bringing toys into the bedroom and adding it to your guys' still growing collection. If it isn't a vibrator, it's a pair of handcuffs or a blindfold, or something flavored and stimulating. You both enjoy using them on each other. Him to rut it up and tease it along your clit and entrance, and you to press it against his ballsack during a blowjob to heighten his orgasm and bring him even more pleasure. Sometimes you two will even use a vibrating cockring, placing it right on the top of his ballsack and right on the end of his length and girth, to stimulate you both at the same time and make things a lot more intense. With him reaching down to add onto the pressure and vibration on your clit with his thumb, you're orgasming multiple times in minutes.

Where Even though you two enjoy being a little voyeuristic together with how much public sexual acts and touches you two engage in, you both prefer to have sex in the privacy of your own home. In public, you have to minimize your sounds and what you two can do at each setting and location, and Kirk loves it when you're loud and when you both are able to switch up positions and be carefree. His favorite room to fuck you in is either the bedroom or the living room. The bedroom, because that's where it's most comfortable at, and where your guys' toys are. And the living room, because that's where you're able to watch your recorded escapades at, and it's more daring, yet still safe enough for you two to do whatever you want, and be as loud as you want.

X Factor Kirk's favorite thing about you, is how comfortable he is around you, and that he's unapologetically allowed to be himself when he's with you. Not that he can't be himself with the guys or with his close friends and family, but in the way where he can bare it all to you, and you take it in with grace. With no judgement towards his past, his past partners, what he's into sexually, his past addictions, and how he deals and manages with his stress. With everyone else, to a certain extent, there's a facade. To keep people from questioning how he operates and if he's doing alright. But with you, he's able to be himself, no questions asked.

Yes and No You both are into spanking and leaving marks, biting and licking each other, but not into causing any serious, physical harm. Even if Kirk is fully into having sex with you, in the back of his mind, he's still being cautious of how hard he yanks on your hair or thrusts into your mouth. The thought of hurting you to the point where you begin to hesitate and want to stop makes him uncomfortable and anxious himself, so he always makes sure to check in on you and keep a look out on your facial expressions and the noises you're making, your safety more important than his pleasure.

Zip There's very few things Kirk enjoys more than you overwhelmed in your own pleasure, in the pleasure he's giving you. That's why although he loves the risk of fucking around in public, the only downside except for getting caught and being fined, is you being unable to be as loud as you would like to be. He loves when your gasps reverberate in his ears, and you audibly sob when he makes contact with every spot that brings tears to your eyes. He loves knowing how good he makes you feel and how no one else can make you feel this way, so when that's taken away and you're both forced to keep quiet to a certain extent, it's a little disappointing for him.