Can I Pay Someone Who Knows How To Draw To Help Me Come Up With This Tattoo Please I Have Like Refs I

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.

God wants you to sexualize that old man

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.”

Hii how are youuu???

Can you please write something for 2000's James where reader finds out she's pregnant and she starts stressing because she thinks James is going to leave her but he reassures her that hew onto and that he loves her and it's just fluffy

THANKS

Have a great rest of your dayy 💕

IM SUCH A SUCKER FOR PREGNANCY STUFF BRO UDGDHDHDHS

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ²⁰⁰⁴

Staring down, the little plastic stick in my hand, those two pink lines blurred together, and tears sting in my eyes immediately. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could barely catch my breath.

Pregnant. I was pregnant. I’m pregnant with James’ baby.

James had just left for the studio, another long day lying ahead of him. The thing was, he had been so busy with the band, always working on something new, and I just hadn't found the right moment to talk to him. Now, standing alone in our bathroom, I was pretty much paralyzed.

I tried to envision his reaction. Would he be confused? Upset? Was he going to leave me, leave us? The thought of it just churned my stomach. I had to tell him, but how? The better question at that moment was, how could I break the news without falling apart? Knowing that he would pack his things and abandon me and our baby.

That day was way too long, each minute was a hour. I did some housework, trying to get my mind off things, but every time I looked at my watch, that feeling crashed over me.

I couldn't eat, my mind was too mixed up.

When James came home, I was beside myself with anguish and anxiety.

He walked through the door with that very confident stride, but the tiredness in his eyes was plain. Dropped his bag by the door and smiled at me. "Hey, baby," he said, packing me into his arms. "How was your day, sweetheart?"

I forced the smile onto my face, praying he wouldn't see the very obvious signs to what was bothering me. "It was okay," I told him through a lie, pressing my face into his chest.

His smell, slight sweat and cologne, was comforting, but didn't quite help my nervousness.

James pulled back and looked at me with worry, he always knew whenever something was wrong. "What's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "You seem off."

I could hardly hold anything back. The dam burst, and I just dissolved into tears. James's eyes went wide with alarm as he hastily guided me onto the couch, sitting me down very gingerly. "Hey, hey, what's going on, baby?" he asked softly.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "James, I… I don't know how to say this," I started, my voice trembling. "I found out today… and I’m- I’m so scared… I'm pregnant."

He didn't react immediately. He stared at me, and for a second, I thought the worst. Then the slow smile spread across his face as he pulled me tightly into his arms.

"That's amazing," he whispered, sounding choked at the prospect of fatherhood. "Why are you so upset?”

I pulled back, looking into his eyes. "I thought... I thought you might be angry, or that you might leave," I admitted, my voice cracking as I cried. "I was so scared." I sniffled.

James' expression softened, and he cupped my face in his hands. "Leave you? Why would I ever do that?" he asked, the kindness in his eyes so so real. "I love you more than anything. And now, we're going to have a baby. Our baby."

He laid a light hand upon my stomach, and his eyes shone. "Our little baby's in there," he marvelled, eyes flicking back to mine. "I can't wait..."

This time, tears streamed down my face, but it was in relief. "I love you," I whispered, reaching into his touch and pulling my arms around his neck.

James must have scented my lingering unease, he drew me closer, and in the circle of his arms, I was safe. "I love you too," he whispered back. "And I'm not going anywhere. We're gonna have a perfect little family."

It was like a crash of peace just hit me as I laid my head on his shoulder. We were going to be all right.

"The Real RomCom" Kirk Hammett x Fem!Reader

Summery: You and Kirk are talking and clear the air of any awkwardness on why you’re so shy and bond :P (fluff, fluff, fluffy, fluff.) (also not proof read)

TW: Alcoholism, mentions of drugs, name calling, anxiety, language.

PT 3

1984-85 Kirk Hammett

Your conversation migrated back to the kitchen where you both are now sitting opposite from each other on the counter top drinking water.

“I knew you guys were before I came here.” you embarrassingly admitted. It is an every day that you meet a famous band. You were shocked you were going through telling Kirk this, but here you are. “ as you can see, I have a great taste in music.” You jokingly boast pointing to your shirt. The only way you knew how to hide your anxiety was to laugh your way out of the situation.

Kirk left at your sarcasm, “Yep, I’m well aware.”

“I’ve been reading about you guys too. Listening to the music was awesome but I like reading what makes up the band, you know?”

Kirk quickly agrees with you, “Yeah absolutely! I do the same thing with music and movies. But why didn’t you say you were a fan?”

They were it was. The question you were dreading the whole night, “why are you so quiet?” you thought, “does she speak?” there is no denying you had social anxiety, but you didn’t like having to blow out about it when someone decided it was a problem. You didn’t want it to be anybody’s business because you’re the one who has the problem. You have several lines you have picked out when the situation in springs itself onto you. Most of them, being sarcastic, rude, and snarky with a dash of smart ass. But you knew now that you wanted to be honest with the guy you like. “ Well, I have some anxiety when I’m at parties, which is a big reason I don’t go to them, Beck does, though, all the time.” You say, trying to keep your voice loud enough so Kirk can hear you but quiet enough that other people can’t.

Kirk understandably nods, taking a mental note that you don’t like party’s. “I know it doesn’t seem like it but I don’t like being around people all that much either.”

You blink at his words, “But you’re a performer. You’re constantly on stage in front of thousands of people.”

“Yeah, but the talking part is my downfall.”

You tilt your head back while making an “ooo” sound. “Well, you’re not doing too bad right now.”

He chuckled catching your tone, “Heh, thanks. I could say the same. Could.” He smirked.

You let out a laugh, “Wow. Thank you so much Kirk, my anxiety is cured.” Lightly nudging his leg with your foot, you realize what song started to play. “Hey I know how to play this song!” You yelled over a very loud version of “The Trooper”.

Kirks eye were as wide as saucers, “You play?!” He asked, shocked and impatient waiting for your answer.

You nod quickly, “yeah on my guitar!”

Hearing this, Kirk wasted no time jumping from the counter, taking your hand and pulling you out of the kitchen. “Whoa, whoa, slow down! Where are we going!?” You laughed as Kirk and you ripped through the swinging doors and b-lining for the stairs. Barely missing the people you both were zipping passed

“You’ve got to be the coolest fucking chick here. I’m gonna show you something.” He said taking two at a time up the stairs. You never read anything saying Kirk had agility, you were impressed.

You quickly pushed the thought away as Kirk had almost run into someone as you approached the top of the stairs. “Holy hell Kirk, slow down! You’re gonna kill someone!” You cackle as you hear a faint apology leave him.

By shear luck, you both make it to the top of the stairs in one piece. You catch Beck’s curious eyes. “Don’t mind us!” Kirk yelled, whilst everyone now minding us. Not knowing in the moment how to respond to Beck, you shrug your shoulders as Kirk pulls you out of sight.

-Earlier after Beck’s chat with Lars:

Lars plopped down onto the couch with Beck sitting in the love seat across from him. “Beck I swear we were just having fun- Ow!” James and Cliff look up from the conversation they were having.

Beck cut off Lars’ statement by chucking a pillow at him. “I don’t wanna fucking hear it, I told you that she doesn’t drink like that and it wouldn’t help.” She yelled pointing her finger in an accusing way at Lars, in result made him sink lower in to the seat.

“What the hell did you do now Lars?” James asked shooting a questioning look over to his friend. Lars opened his mouth to defend himself but was quickly interjected by Beck, “You’re drummer got my best friend drunk because he thought she “needed it”. You don’t know how she get when she’s drunk! It can be a serious hand full sometimes.”

“Dude it’s not like I drugged her!” Lars spat.

“I don’t fucking know that!” Beck fired back.

“Well I’m sure she’s fine now, Kirk’s got her downstairs, so could you both please. Chill the fuck out.” Cliff supplied, quieting the “brats” of the group as Kirk put it one day. Beck and Lars gave each other a glare before sulking quietly in their seats.

“Do you guys want to play Gin or do you wanna continue hating each other?” James asked. Beck gave a final look to Lars as Beck sighed and got out of her seat to play. Lars following suit and ironically, forcing to sit next to her. “Okay,” James began. “We all know how to play yes?” Beck, Cliff, and Lars all nod. “Great, Cliff you’re on my team.”

“What? Why do I have to be stuck with her!” Lars whined, like a child.

Beck whipped her head towards him and scoffed, “Fuck you, deal with it!” She yelled.

Lars shook his head and brought his elbows to the table so his arms could hold his head up. “Let’s just play.” He said admitting defeat which gave Beck a small sense of pride.

“So, it’s regular Gin but each set you make your opponent has to take a shot, for each run you make your opponent has to take a double shot.” James explained. They all nodded and began to play with Lars passing the 10 cards on either side of the table. It’s not even halfway through the first round when James knocks on the table.

“Fuck already?” Beck asked, not believing they’ve already gotten their cards sorted out.

“What do you wanna do now?” Lars asked Beck, there really wasn’t much they could do at this point, they barely had a set and the run they were trying to make looked pitiful.

“Well throw that one away and let’s see what we get.” Lars nodded and did what he was instructed. The card he pulled didn’t work in their favor.

Lars lowered his head, “Fock.” And Beck agreed. They knocked indicating they were done and they all laid their cards out. You couldn’t believe the luck Cliff and James had. Two sets and a run.

James grabbed the vodka and two shot glasses, “Read’ em and weep ladies. Time to drink.”

Smirnoff, Beck thought, of course. Lars and her both let out a defeated grumble as the reached for the glasses. Cliff poured the first, “Whoa, whoa, easy!” Beck held up a hand but Cliff stopped when he felt like it. Lars sighed with Beck and tapped the glass on the table before forcing the liquor down their throats.

Lars put his glass down first, “This was more fun earlier.” He pouted. Beck elbowed him as Cliff poured another tall one. This one was downed then two more, taking their punishments like champs they set their glasses down.

“Okay, again. This time we’re gonna win.” Beck stated catching her breath with Lars agreeing. James set it up and Cliff dealt the cards. Drone then on the game went like that back and forth. Soon, they were all too tipsy to even remember the game’s name and Beck completely forgetting her best friend down stairs.

“Ha! A red Ace!” Lars yelled drunkenly, “Go Fish!” Everyone laughed out loud.

“You fucking idiot, this is Black Jack!” James snorted, reaching to smack Lars and Becks cards.

Beck was pulled from the conversation when she heard what sounded like a stampede of buffalos up the stairs. “What the fuck?” She said turning her attention towards who was at the stairs. Her eyes were darting back and forth, struggling to stay on a still object. Oh, it’s Y/N, she thought. Why was she being dragged by someone who looks like Kirk?

“Don’t mind us!” Beck heard. She saw you shrug and disappear. “Well, ok then.” Lars said and everyone started laughing again as Beck hadn’t realized they had caught everyone’s attention. Beck went back to conversing with the group as her subconscious mind reassured her you were ok and with Kirk.

END OF PART 3!!!!!

A/N: Um let’s pretend that I didn’t just ignore everyone for half a year 👀. I hope you enjoyed, I’m currently working on Dave stuff so tell me what you want to read. Smut is iffy for me but if you request I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you sm for being this unbelievably patient.❤️❤️

Tag-list: @mybloodyvalentine09 , @lunesispunk , @kirkslov3r

Dilfism at its finest!

Imagine meeting his gaze, you slowly approach and undress, he stares at you intensely then you straddle him and start moving over his erection...he squeezes your buttocks with his strong, large hands and then... he fucks you as if it were his last day on this earth...

I'm done.

3 studies from that gay interview

Hello everyone...

You know, October is coming up and I was thinking, huh, I think I want to write Kinktober again...

So I'm back dear readers, I admit, I disappeared for almost a year but I'm back with a second edition of Kinktober, this time with gay ships of Metallica. You hear it right, Gaytallica will be this year.

Like last year, I don't promise you big overly elaborate one shots, I'll just offer you pure obscenity, that is.

So stay tuned because I will soon publish the list with this year's kinks and may or may not do polls to decide which ship will be left with which kink.