Promises

Yes we back

Oh my god...Turn the Page is such an underrated Metallica song. I know it's a cover, but lord have mercy James' vocals on that song are so hot, I need him to sing it right next to my ear...in between his grunts and moans and- I MEAN-

Seriously though he sounds so fucking good on that song and it literally gets me so horny (Im kidding...obviously)(No Im not)

'98 James is so underrated in general...late 90s him was a whole other breed of man

Hi i haven't been here in a while

I'm throwing this drawing I made for my friends bday 2 months ago.

OK SO UHH

‘04 (optional) JAMES HAS A BREAKDOWN/PANIC ATTACK IN FRONT OF READER CUZ HE DOESNT THINK HES ENOUGH FOR HER AND UHHH SHE COMFORTS HIM AND THEY FUCK IN LOTUS POSITION 😻😻😻Jaymz pov would be really cool but either way is fine :D

I’ve been thinking abt this all day while at work and omg 😭

I LOOOOVVVE PASSIONATE STUFF ITS SO BEAUTIFUL

Based this around the SKOM era

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 ²⁰⁰²

I sat at the edge of the bed in my hotel room, staring down through the floor to nowhere in particular. My chest was tight, squeezed by an invisible hand that tightened with each breath.

The world outside, claustrophobic. My own breathing echoed through my ears, jaded.

The documentary crew left a few hours ago. Their equipment was packed away, and their annoying chatter began to fade in my mind. They were here to capture the making of our new album, aka, the Metallica therapy session.

But what I felt was exposed, to be laid for everyone to see. The cameras never lie: they catch every bit of frustration, stumble, and every drink. Oh God, Oh fuck, the drinking.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the sweat on my palm. Everything was uncomfortable. My heart thumped as my thoughts scattered.

The rehab had helped, at least a little. I felt like such a fake. Like I wasn't enough for the band or the fans, especially her. For anyone.

She is my everything, my beautiful girl. But even rocks erode under constant waves. I knew that I was tugging her down, dragging a weight she didn't deserve to carry.

I heard the door of our suite open and close softly. Footsteps drew closer, but I still could not relieve myself from looking up. A tingling sensation on my skin told me she was there before I saw her. Then she knelt beside me; her eyes searched mine.

"James?" Her voice was soft, concerned. "What's going on, Honey?"

I swallowed hard, trying to find words. My throat was dry, my tongue felt thick. I shook my head. I couldn't talk. The tears started pouring, and I clenched my fists, trying to hold them back. But it was too much. The dam was broken and the words were falling out.

"I can't do this," I choked out. "I can't be what everyone wants me to be. I am a mess. I'm… I'm awful. I'm a pathetic excuse for a man."

Her eyes widened, and she reached to touch my arm, though I drew back, standing abruptly. The room spun. I gripped the back of the chair to steady myself. "I'm failing, at everything. The band, the album, rehab… you. I'm failing you."

"James, no…" She got to her feet, and again she reached out for me, but I stepped back again, shaking my head.

"I'm a fake," I said, yelling now. "Everyone believes I am this… this badass metal guy, but I am just some broken little boy. I can't take this. I can't take all of this!"

"James, please…" She took a step closer. I did not hear her. The blood pounded in my ears, my vision blurring with tears. I went down on my knees, clasping my head and trying to block out the noise in my head, the voices telling me what a piece of rubbish I was.

"I'm not enough!" I growled out, my voice cracking. "I'm not enough for anyone!"

She knelt down next to me with her arms wrapped around me. I pushed at her, but she grasped me tightly with all her might. "Shhh, James. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here."

Her words were trying to get to me, but I was drowning too deep to grab the hold of it. My body was wracked with sobs, and I couldn't smother them. I was shaking, my whole body trembling. "I'm so sorry," I gasped. "I'm so, so sorry."

"James, look at me," she said, her voice level and low. “Honey, look at me.” She gently took my chin in her hand, forcing me to meet her eye. "You are not a failure. You aren't worthless. You're human. You're allowed to struggle. And you are a good man."

I shook my head as the tears streamed down my face. "I'm not enough," I whispered. "I'll never be enough."

"Yes, you are," she said firmly. "You're more than enough. For me, for the band, for the everyone. You're more than enough, James. And it's okay to need help. It's okay to be vulnerable."

I collapsed against her, my head on her shoulder, the sobs coming harder now. She rocked me back and forth gently, stroking my hair. "It's okay, James. Let it out. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She held me close, whispering reassurances and rocking me back and forth like some child. "I love you," she said softly, "and I'm here."

The panic began to subside, the clench in my chest loosening. My breathing began to slow down, my sobs turning to whimpers. She was here, believing in me where I couldn't believe in myself.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered again, my voice hoarse.

"Don't be sorry, Honey," she said, pressing her lips on my forehead. "Just be here with me. Just breathe.”

I nodded, closing my eyes and letting her hold me. She looked down at me with a mix of compassion and tenderness in her eyes. Her voice came in low, "I want to distract you… make you feel better. You’ve been way too tense, James."

I turned my head, feeling my reluctance shower over me. "I don't think that would be such a good idea," I grumbled, scrubbing at the remaining squiggles of tears with the back of my hand.

The very last thing I wanted was to burden her, to drag her down into my darkness.

She tipped her head back onto its side, her eyes held mine. "What's there for me to do, James? What do you need?”

I fumbled for words as my mind was nothing but an incoherent jumble. "I… I don't know," I said awkwardly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

That wasn't the whole truth, though admitting what I really wanted was impossible. I looked away, twitching at my fingers nervously.

She saw right through me, curling her lips into a knowing smile. She reached out and brushed her fingers very lightly down my cheek. "You wanna have sex, don't you?" she asked, laughing softly.

I felt my face flushing, and I stuttered, "I… I mean…" My voice faded away. I couldn't stand the look in her eyes.

The truth is that it did cross my mind, a desperate reach for something or anything that would connect me to her.

She cupped my face in her hands, turning it gently so I had no choice but to look at her. "James, it's okay," she said, her voice soothing. "It's okay to want to be comforted. There's nothing wrong with that."

I studied her face for any sense of pity or frustration, but there was only love. I let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly. "I… I guess I do," I said barely above a whisper. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to, honey.”

She shook her head, silencing me with a soft, gentle kiss on the lips. "I want to, James," she mumbled against my lips. "I want to be close to you. Help you feel better."

So I reached up, my hand trembling, and cupped her cheek, moving my lips to love hers.

Her fingers tangled in my hair as she pulled me closer. Her lips were exceedingly warm, they seemed to press into my bones.

Backward on the bed, her body covered mine, pinning me in, to the present.

For some time then, we lost ourselves. It wasn't about the physical act, it's about comfort, this woman who I loved more than life. Every touch, every kiss said she was right by my side.

We slid into movement, our bodies quickening to a pace both remembered and totally new. She shifted again, sitting in my lap with her legs around my sides, intertwined. The position pushed us closer, our bodies were pressed so intimately bare, our faces inches apart.

“You doing okay?” She whispered, hovering over my erection. The dark of the night bathed her beautiful face, the sapphire sky leaking in through the wonder and making her look that much more stunning.

Her breath on my lips, her heartbeat against my chest, it was the most intimate kind of position. “Yeah… I’m okay.”

I gently held her, staring into her eyes as she sank down onto me. Tho both of us groaned in unison, and she made sure to keep a good grip on my shoulders.

We began to move, our bodies finding a slow, gentle thrust. It wasn't about getting somewhere fast, it was about connection, feeling each other fully. Every movement was done with forethought, every touch meaningful.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, her fingers threading through my delicate hairs on my nape as I held her close, my hands on her back. I could feel her forehead against mine as we sat like that.

"James," she whispered lowly, a hundred different kinds of love in her voice. "You feel s-so good."

"You too," I murmured, my voice rough with emotion. "God, I love you so much.

She smiled, soft, radiant, and kissed me once more. "I love you t-too. So much."

It was the most intimate thing, the most loving experience I ever had. Every touch, every kiss, every single movement.

"Look at me," she whispered, her eyes locking on mine. "I want to see you."

I nodded, holding her gaze. "I'm here. I'm with you."

She smiled, shining her eyes with love at me. "Stay with me."

"I will," I vowed, choked with emotion. "Always."

"I love you," she whispered, her voice full of emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I replied, my voice rough with emotion. "More than anything."

It wasn't about how fast I came, it was more about the feeling of every second.

"I'm close," she whispered, her voice trembling with her pleads. "James, I'm so close."

"Me, too," I rumbled, my own voice harsh with emotion. "God, you feel so good..."

She smiled again then, a beautiful, euphoric smile, and kissed me once more. "Stay with me," she whispered. "Cum with me."

"Always," I promised. "Always."

Finally, I twitched and stilled as she moaned her release. I held her so tight, bucking slightly as I came. I let out a rough breath, trying to catch up with myself as I felt her fill with my seed.

We lay that way, our bodies knotted, our hearts wrestling each other from inside our chests.

"Thank you," I whispered, burying my face in her warm neck, leaving kisses.

Jason☹️ JASSSONNNN☹️☹️😭😭☹️ jason.. jassson.. ja… jaasson….jason… Jasoooonnn.. JASON☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ JAAAAAASOOOONNH☹️☹️☹️☹️😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭☹️

Jason and James 🐰🦁

part 3! the last one. they look soo good on this pic, wish i have a friend to recreate lars and kirk 🫶

RAAHHHHHH I NEED HETRICH AKA LARS AND JAMES HAVING A ROUGH SEX 🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️ ID LOVE TO SEE JAMES DOMINATE LARS 🔥🔥🔥💜 THANK YOUUU THO

CAUGHT

1989

CW - make-up sex, come in pants, kirk being a creep lmao, tipsy sex

“Christ, James, do you ever shut the hell up?”

Another night of drinking, another night of arguments. Clockwork. Typical. Whatever. Kirk could deal with the shouting on the other side of the hotel wall. He could deal with James’ drunken antics, Lars’ bossiness, the drunk screaming matches… It seemed like everyday was a repeat of the same old structure— play, drink until you’re shitfaced and vomiting, sleep until 1pm, repeat.

He could deal with it, really. Kirk was just tired of it. That’s all. Just a few more minutes, then they’ll get tired and fall asleep, giving Kirk some peace and quiet.

That’s what he kept telling himself all night.

It wasn’t until an ungodly hour of the night which Kirk can’t recall that something changed. Yelling that turned into screaming turned back into yelling which turned into something, well, a little more interesting.

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it, asshole?”

”I’ll fucking show ya-“

A yelp, and then it was quiet. Nothing except a few inexplicable shifting noises. A silence too different to ignore. Kirk turns his head to check if Jason has stirred in his sleep to the sudden change of noise, but Jason is sleeping soundly with no signs of anything but being in a deep sleep. Kirk stares at him, making a mental note on how lucky he is for being able to sleep through commotion on the other side of the wall.

It only took that short amount of time for the silence to dissipate. Odd shifting sounds turned into small, desperate noises from what Kirk could only assume is Lars on the other side of the room. Intrigued, Kirk removes his gaze from the sleeping boy beside him and eyes the wall. He wonders what he would see if the wall was gone.

The truth is, he’d see something he’d really like. James hovering over a red-faced Lars, whispering dirty words into his ear as his hand slowly traces down the dane’s small body and down to his tight jeans. James would slowly palm his lover before biting down on his neck, making Lars audibly moan. A *clink* of a belt echoes and it doesn’t take long after that for more breathy noises of pleasure to come dribbling out James’ mouth after. Something that could only be described as incredibly arousing.

Kirk sat up quietly, sitting on the edge of his bed before stilling himself to make as less noise as possible. The moans should’ve been his sign to tell himself “Well, I know where this is going now. I should find my earplugs and try to get some sleep.”

But, of course, his curiosity forces him to sneakily eavesdrop on the hot n’ bothered couple— but is it really eavesdropping if they’re being so loud? It doesn’t matter. Kirk’s taken out of his thoughts when he hears an especially loud noise from his friend followed by an incredibly erotic sentence.

“O-oh! Yeah, fuck- put me in my place, James..”

Good god, does he have any shame?

Kirk criticizes him mentally. What Kirk doesn’t take into consideration is that he, too, is shameful when he’s moving to press his ear against the wall to hear more of his friend’s girlish moans and demands. Sure enough, he’s able to hear what his bandmates are up to very clearly. The black haired boy lets out a shallow breath and leans against the wall, screwing his eyes shut while he imagines the two desperately grinding against one another. His mind wandered all over the place. Was James usually on the bottom? Did Lars get on his knees for James often? Was he going to do that next? All unanswered.

Dirty talk and unidentifiable wet noises ensue until a particular obnoxious squelch sound emits from the room.

Lube. Must be lube. They’re about to have sex.

The shy guitarist gulps and finds that he’s slowly becoming stiff in his pants. Guilt washes over him like a tidal wave. He’s really getting a hard-on over his bandmates having sex.. he curses himself. Tells himself he’s a creep, that he shouldn’t be enjoying listening to the couple’s erotic noises. That doesn’t stop him from his legs taking him to the door of his hotel room and placing his hand on the knob, ready to exit the room.

I can’t believe I’m doing this..

It’s already too late to talk himself out of it. Kirk creeps out of the room, leaving Jason alone in the bed. From the empty hallway he can still hear the couple. Except now the groans no longer come from foreplay. The groans turn into squeals and pleads and now there’s a new sound— a bed squeaking.

Kirk’s heart jumps at the realization. Lars and James were having sex. All the way sex. Kirk looks down at the hotel carpet, feeling his cock throb slightly in his pants. He wants to peek so badly. Just a little look won’t hurt, right? They won’t even notice. Kirk moves closer to James and Lars room. He takes a deep breath before slowly placing his now trembling hand on the bronze knob belonging to the door he now stood in front of before slowly turning and opening the door just slightly.

Just as Kirk told himself, the boys are too busy with each other to notice the eyes now laid upon them. And what a sight they were. James’ long blonde mane bounces with each thrust of his hips in tandem with Lars’ small cock from the recoil of his lover’s dick ramming into him. Lars’ face is red and slick with drool and sweat, glistening in the dull light of the room.

It’s enough to make Kirk make a small needy groan of his own. He continues watching the two rut against each other while feeling his own need grow.

“James— oh my god, please, go harder! Harder!”

The bed squeaks faster as James fucks into Lars. The drummer’s chest heaves and his small fingers curl into the bedsheets as his prostate is abused over and over again by the blunt head of his boyfriend’s length. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. James, on the other hand, is fighting his orgasm already despite only being in Lars for a few minutes. James is unsurprisingly tipsy and the two of them know he cums faster when he’s had a beer too many— and Kirk is about to find out.

Kirk swallows his saliva watching James let out an almost inhuman growl as he speeds up yet again. Lars whines before his eyes roll back as a result. The whole scene is straight out of a porno. With Kirk’s cock aching and the unfolding scene in front of him, the guitarist allows his hand to travel to his crotch. As he gropes and palms himself, he bites his lip to hold back any other accidental noises he may make.

Lars isn’t the same. He clearly doesn’t care who in the hotel hears him, because he allows his jaw to go slack and his voice to create the sexiest moan both James and Kirk have ever heard.

“Lars, fucking hell, you’re gonna make me cum.. fuck!”

James curses loudly, pounding into the boy below him as he chases his orgasm. Kirk’s trembling hand goes faster rubbing himself over his tight pants. James unknowingly works himself into Lars in the same rhythm that Kirk is masturbating with; something that only drives Kirk crazier.

The sex only lasts a few minutes longer before James is about to burst. His hips stutter, eyelashes fluttering and head leaning back before he gives his last few thrusts to Lars. Warm cum spurts inside of the brunette boy as the drummer whines softly. Lars’ own orgasm hits him and he allows himself to cum on his own stomach, following his boyfriend.

Now only the creep behind their door is left. Kirk, who is desperate to come undone, frantically moves his hand up and down his clothed shaft while his spare hand leans on the wall. He no longer cares if someone sees. Doesn’t care if someone comes down the hallway, doesn’t care if Jason comes to see what the commotion is and finds him like this, doesn’t care if James meets eye contact with him—well, fuck, is actually happening before Kirk can even process it.

James half-lidded eyes stare into Kirk’s big brown ones. That’s all it takes, just a fucking look, and Kirk is cumming in his pants. James watches confused yet intrigued as Kirk blows his load right in front of him. A dark wet spot begins to start as Kirk’s legs shake. Kirk’s too blissed out from currently orgasming to process the fact that he’s just been caught peeping on his friends fucking— no, instead, he’s losing himself in public and he likes it.

And as soon as it starts, it’s gone. The squirts of cum come to a stop and Kirk is catching his breath, moving his gaze to the ground and squeezing his eyes shut. He may be a creep, but that was the hottest experience of his life.

James leans down to whisper to Lars.

“I think we were a little too loud.”

There is not much to say. Dedicated to @plusvanity 💜