𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 - 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲

self indulgent jameson.

heyy im requesting again cus i liked the work you did for me so much :) could you do one with Jason/Anyone based on @hexxeddorm’s drawing on a waitress Jason? (im pretty sure you’ve seen it) the rest is up to what you want to write, just need to have him dicked down in that uniform 👀

again, love your works so much and take your time if you need to :) ❤️

GAHH had to make this into a halloween fic! i love that fanart so much this ask made me SO happy :)

Prove It

1987 • James/Jason

CW - semi public sex, toxic yaoi lmao, cross dressing, dubious consent kind of i don’t know, use of the F slur, internalized homophobia

Jason always looked forward to Halloween.

He’d dress in a fun costume, drink, maybe play a Halloween show if he was lucky. The Flotsam guys were even bigger on Halloween than he was and dragged him to countless costume parties with hookers hanging around; they’d give him a look, that look, and one of his bandmates would push Jason to go talk to a prostitute with a smirk.

“Cmon man, she’s like, totally your type! Blonde hair, blue eyes, looks like she could kill ya… go get ‘er!”

Yeah. It’s his type.

The girls were almost always wearing a sexy outfit. Skimpy, cheap clothes that accentuated their curves. The costumes were predictable— Sometimes a nurse. Sometimes a slutty witch who wants to trade her potions for your semen. Maybe a particularly naughty angel who decided maybe a little defiance would be good.

Or, a waitress.

Jason stares at himself in the mirror, regretting everything about this. He was still the Newkid, had to do everything the band told him. What James told him. So, when he was ordered to embarrass himself by wearing a very feminine, very revealing Waitress costume for the upcoming Halloween party, he obliged. Jason shuffled to the side to check the rest of his costume. Remembered how these costumes were made to show off ass and curves. It’s not a nice memory. His thighs seemed too muscular for the thin fabric of the light pink skirt, his chest and shoulders too broad and thick for the revealing top. Trying on costumes had been enjoyable in the past; now wearing his costume is the last thing he wants to do.

Jason’s eyebrows furrow as he continues to check himself out in the mirror. Maybe, he thinks, if he was a chick, there was a chance he would look good. But he’s not. No, he’s a guy in a fucking waitress costume too small for him just because James would get a kick out of it. Everyone else had a normal costume— a vampire, a werewolf, an imp. And, fuck, here he is. In a women’s skirt and top. In a shitty halloween store’s changing room where plastic decorations hang from the ceiling and walls. The painted on smiles of the plastic spiders don’t help Jason’s mood.

Jason sighs. He really doesn’t wanna do this. Surely there’s a way he can convince James to have mercy on him, right? Maybe he’d offer his personal stash of weed or Heineken. Embarrassed, Jason stops staring at his masculine figure in the mirror and takes a deep breath. James is on the other side of the dressing room, impatiently tapping his foot, and Jason assumes it’s because he wants to hurry up and get back to the guys.

“James? You’re.. really serious ‘bout this? Don’t wanna like, take my hash instead? This is stupid. Really fuckin’ stupid.”

Jason hears the other man grunt from the other side.

“What, too pussy? If you can’t even dress up in a stupid costume, why should I even keep you around?”

Well. Fuck.

“I- Fine. Whatever. I’m ready.”

A pause, then James is opening the door from the outside, not realizing how tantalizingly slow he’s going. Why did he do this again? To be honest, he wasn’t really thinking when he asked Jason to wear the costume. He was drunk. And, yeah. He’s usually drunk. Caught him there. But it was different. Jason was the one who brought costumes up in that stupid cheery voice, and you couldn’t blame James for wanting to mess with him. Not when he’s waiting for Jason to snap.

Here’s how it happened; the two were sitting in Jason’s room together with the steady beat of Electric Eye. Jason and James left all alone because Kirk and Lars wouldn’t do a damn thing without the other and Lars was tasked with getting the band more beer. Jason eyed James. James eyed Jason. Jason spoke up, blurting out a stupid question about Halloween, earning a groan from James. Like he wanted to make Jason believe talking to him was a chore. The conversation went on— if you count Jason sheepishly blabbering in hopes of entertaining James a conversation. It was when Jason mentioned those parties with his old band, Flotsam, that the blonde got an idea.

That’s when he asked Jason just how far he would go. Jason looked confused at first. The guitarist enlightened him. James asks the brunette what his problem is first, because of course he does, and follows it with something that made Jason determined.

“You always just take everything. All the pranks, all the jokes. When are you gonna snap at us, huh? When are you gonna snap at me? How far can you really take it? Prove to me you’re good enough.”

That’s how they ended up here. Jason showed him how much humiliation he can take by allowing James to lay eyes on him when he’s dressed like this. Because Jason is strong, Jason can take it. He can take all the shit James and the guys give him. In fact, he has to. So the bassist doesn’t hide when the door is finally opened all the way, only looking to the side, his cheeks dusted a light pink.

It hits James like a truck. He feels absolutely winded after he first takes the first look. The waitress skirt perfectly hugs his hips like it was specially tailored and crafted for Jason to give the guitarist a boner. His mouth goes dry, scanning the bassist up and down. The boy in front of him wasn’t supposed to look so damn perfect, the whole thing was supposed to be a joke. A stab at Jason, to see how far he’ll take it. To see if he’s good enough to be in Metallica. He is a replacement, after all. However, James would be lying if he said that replacement wasn’t making him short circuit. And James was also a dirty fuckin’ liar, because the waitress gag was more than just a gag to him.

“You. You, uh. You look stupid.”

There’s silence for a few moments. Then, Jason starts laughing. It throws James off, and he scrunches his eyebrows. The bassist giggles for a few moments longer before shaking his head.

“Is that all you have to say?”

James shifts uncomfortably and looks to the side. Walks in, closes the door behind him, then scowls. Like he didn’t just invite himself into an occupied dressing room like a freak. And he wasn’t! He swore. He only shut the door so no one else would see Jason like this. Which, fuck, wasn’t a great reason either, considering that’s the whole reason he’s forcing Jason to buy this stupid costume anyways. So people can see. And laugh. The only one that’s laughing is Jason, though, because he realized he’s got the big James Hetfield’s panties in a twist ‘cause of what was supposed to be a prank on him. Ironic.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me. Be grateful I’m closing the door so only I can see you. I should be the one laughing at you.”

Jason rolls his eyes. He’s not dumb enough to not pick up on what the situation is, though it is much different from what he expected. He really did expect James to laugh at him, to think he looked stupid. Instead he got that look, yes, that look, and a couple stuttered words when James stared at him like a dog staring at a treat. Jason’s no virgin. Maybe surprised, but he won’t let that show. What he does plan to show is dominance over this perverted blonde who was slowly getting closer to him.

“You look conflicted. Got something to say?”

Jason asks quietly, watching James get closer like a cartoon character floating to a pie. Pathetic, he thinks. He’s supposed to be the intimidating one and Jason’s got him hardening in his jeans from a simple costume like a homo. If you asked him, James was not a homosexual. He only liked girls. That was his justification for quickly hardening in his jeans at the sight of Jason. He looked like a girl, okay? That’s it. That’s the only reason.

But it wasn’t. Because James was inches away from the bassist, staring down at him with a hard on.

“I’m not- I’m not conflicted. Fuck are you trying to say?”

“Well.. I can see your boner through your jeans, but you’re trying to make yourself look like you’re mad. How’s that for a conflict?”

The blonde snarls. That was it. James shoves Jason against the back wall, rattling the little decorations in the dressing room. Jason yells with surprise and slight panic as he’s tossed against the wall like a ragdoll. Really hot once the initial surprise wears off, but he keeps that to himself. Jason’s chin is yanked up to look up at James’ flushed face. They meet eyes, the waitress boys’ gaze teasing and hungry while the guitarist’s is angry and lustful.

“I am not a fucking fag. Okay? I’m not. You- you just look like a woman, that’s IT. I don’t like guys. I don’t like you. I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

Instead of a reply, Jason forces his lips on James. Expecting resistance, he doesn’t go too hard— but, instead of being met with a punch to the gut, he feels the blonde hungrily reply by kissing him back like he’s been waiting for this moment for years. And, that’s not true. Because he’s only been waiting for months. Which is, like, significantly less gay. And this isn’t gay. Because right now Jason’s a just a slutty waitress. But, no matter how much James tells himself these things, they both know the truth. Thankfully, James’ worries melt away as they make out against the wall. Jason’s tongue finds its way into the blonde’s mouth and the taller boy whines, hands finding their way to Jason’s hips. It’s an ego boost feeling James fall apart in literal minutes all because of Jason. Jason did this to him. Made him straining against his jeans, begging to be inside the waitress boy. Made him shaky and whiny (to James’ dismay). He can’t think about that too long because everything’s happening so quickly—James’ hips start to rub against the bassists’ clothed dick as he nearly eats his face off with those sloppy kisses. It’s all teeth and spit as they dry hump each other, both sporting a full erection.

The kiss doesn’t last. James is pulling back, chest heaving, face red, and hard as a rock. His cock still rubs against the brunettes, and he can’t help but look at their strained cocks brushing against each other. Jason notices this and looks at the erotic scene too. He silently wonders if this costume will be ruined before he can even wear it for the party.

“If.. If you tell.. anyone about this.. I swear you’re a dead man..” James promises, trying to catch his breath and keep his desperate moans down at the same time.

“Won’t tell a soul.”

For some reason, that’s believable enough. ‘Cause James doesn’t miss a beat rubbing his length on Jason’s slightly shorter cock. Both are impressive. James thinks Jason’s is impressive. It’s got a pretty pink tip and girth that would make any girl drool— it’s too bad Jason’s using it on the Mighty Hetfield. Don’t ask James how he knows this. But, really, it is a beautiful cock, because all James can think about is how perfect and (probably) delicious it is as he ruts against Jason who is now leaning in to lick and suck at the blonde’s neck.

Shuddering, James’ grip on Jason becomes tighter as the tongue on his soft skin glides over him before picking a particularly sensitive spot and sucking. The bassist smirks against the taller boy’s neck as he sucks a hickey into the crook of James’ neck. Probably not a good look to have purplish marks all over your neck after you just walked out of a changing room with another man, but that was a worry for future James. He could always just say it was a vampire. And, ouch, Jason bites down on his flesh just like one, making James shiver and stutter. His hips trembled against the flushed cock below him and he bites his lip to hold back the moan that threatened to spill from his lips. It was already shameful enough he was doing this with another man, he doesn’t need the whole fucking store hearing it.

With a slick popping noise, Jason removes his tongue from his neck, leaving James dizzy. He stumbles back slightly, which he realizes is actually from Jason pushing him back to remove his skirt. The brunette’s fingers slowly push down that delicious pink skirt along with his boxers to reveal his weeping cock, and James swears he could’ve came right then.

“Don’t worry big boy, you can fuck me soon.”

Actually, he changes his mind. He could’ve cum to that. While he’s busy losing his goddamn mind, Jason’s fingers soak themselves in his wet mouth before dipping down to his hole, making sure James knows he’s teasing himself by circling his rim before dipping in. Jason makes a breathy noise as he works two fingers in and James can’t help but wonder if he’s starting with two because he’s done this before. His chest swells with jealously but he’s quickly distracted by realizing his hand made its way down to his cock to rub himself off while he watches his bandmate finger himself. He’s so goddamn horny his body’s doing shit on its own.

“‘S gonna feel so good, James. Just wait a- fuck- minute..”

James doesn’t respond. He can’t. His mouth feels like a desert. A third finger is added. When? It didn’t matter. James’ burning hot desire made everything feel like it was moving in both slow motion and high speed. Like he’s drunk, but really it’s just Jason making him feel like that. Because he can do that for some reason, which is really frustrating. It’s usually not very acceptable to fall for your bandmate, let alone fall for your male bandmate as a male.

But when Jason’s fucking himself on his fingers up against the wall, curls sticking to his forehead with sweat as he moans like a girl quietly in his very much girly costume, it’s different, okay? It’s different. Not, but Jason will have to get James to realize that a different time, because now he’s focused on getting James inside him and doesn’t really care if it’ll haunt both of them for the rest of their lives. James almost seems angry when Jason reaches to undo his jeans, like he’s trying to make himself angry so he’s not embarrassed. Typical James behavior. Typical James behavior is also fucking people till they break, which Jason is a little too excited for.

A position change and a few desperate kisses, and they’re back against the wall with James’ cock pressed against Jason’s hole. The guitarist twitches against the tight rim and he goes to bite his lip again, which does not go unnoticed. The bassist almost wants to laugh again at how badly James wants this.

“Desperate, huh?” Jason teases.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s a yes, isn’t it?”

“Shut up.”

Jason smiles lopsidedly, and James wants nothing more than to wipe it off his stupid, pretty face. So he grips Jason, white knuckling, and forces his hole down on his swollen cock, making them both groan. Jason’s eyes are wide as he’s stretched out and his legs shake and tremble . Hurts like a motherfucker, but damn, he knows it’ll be the best he’s had so far.

James doesn’t wait to prove that. He’s immediately ramming in and out of Jason, trying so desperately to hold back his embarrassingly girlish moans. It’s cute to Jason. He knows the poor guy is in the tightest hole he’s been in to date, because Jason knows himself, and he doesn’t know how to handle it. James can only tremble and watch his masculinity fade away as he’s being pleasured so immensely by a man, no, not a waitress, not a woman, no matter how much James wants to tell himself. James can’t control how fast he’s shoving himself in and out of Jason’s hole and the smaller boy almost feels bad— he’s really falling apart like a virgin. It almost reminds Jason of the first time he touched himself to a man. Except teenager Jason was exploring hormonal wants and James is fucking the prettiest guy around.

The bassist brings his hand up to the blonde’s face to gently caress it, the juxtaposition between the gentle touch and the rough sex below almost hilarious. His grayish eyes look into James’ blue ones, and he sees how vulnerable the boy is. He may be the one in Jason, but Jason’s done this before. With the Flotsam guys. With groupies. It’s not new. This is new to James because he’s denied himself for so long, and despite how awful James has treated the brunette, he feels the need to make the best for him.

“You’re doin’ so good- mmghh-, so good for giving in for me. Good boy, good boy-“ The bassist praises, tightening around him.

“S-stop-“

Jason pants, being cut off by a particularly hard thrust to his prostate. He seizes up, panicking, realizing he’s gonna cum. He’s gonna cum all over this costume he hasn’t bought and, well, it’s gonna be hot as fuck. James must’ve realized he’s gonna cum too, because he speeds up and goes even harder if that was possible. Jason cries out softly, trying to grab on to James as he feels his climax approaching. The humping the fingering, the fuck— it’s all gonna come crashing down into a brain numbing orgasm.

And that’s what happens when James stutters his hips and spills into him with no warning. Jason tenses, legs shaking and eyes watering, cum spurting out of him in thick ropes. It’s almost embarrassing how much he cums, and, James didn’t even bother to touch his cock. So why is he coming like a bitch in heat? And, funnily enough, James still isn’t convinced he’s gay despite cumming in another man’s ass. And liking it.

The two ride out their orgasms and catch their breath, thoughts spinning in their head. Am I gay now? What does this make us? Can we do that again? Did I seriously just cum in 5 minutes? The various hickeys become forgotten.

Questions left unanswered, because all that really matters is that Jason proved himself.

“…I still hate you, Newkid.”

first request I’m asking for anyone so bear with me..

jason gets a new pair of the tightest and most flattering jeans known to mankind and gets james super hard before and during a show (hence Jason getting the best dick of his life afterwards)

thank you for your patience!! here’s your request :) sorry that it moves so fast!

What He Deserves

1989

CW - groping, hotel sex, slight sweat kink but it’s not brought up much and also very slight corruption kink kind of idk

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that Jason got to stride around in those ridiculously tight jeans and tease James like that. Everyone could see the perfect outline of Jason’s deliciously plump ass— he was showing it off like some sort of slut when he had no place to. Jason belonged to James and James only, so what the hell was he thinking wearing the sluttiest pants known to man?

James huffs in frustration. He walks behind his boyfriend, eyes trying to look anywhere but Jason’s plush ass, inevitably failing and giving in several times. He tells himself he can’t be blamed and that it’s the Newkid’s fault for being too damn sexy. The brunette walking in front of him is completely oblivious to James’ hungry eyes, thankfully. If he had known the blonde was eyefucking him into next week, he would’ve surely popped a boner. And god knows his black jeans would only accentuate his thick erection instead of restraining it.

Eventually, the boys made it to the steps leading to the stage though James could’ve sworn it took about ten years. The crowd cries out with excitement as the lights dim and the background music comes to a halt. James makes sure he sneaks a quick squeeze to a confused Jason before a quiet yelp of surprise emits from his chapped lips. A glare, and the boys finally haul themselves on the wooden stage and prepare for the opening chords of Creeping Death; a crowd favorite.

If Jason had to describe the show with one word, he’d choose tense. His lover shot him one too many angry looks for Jason to shrug it off as just James being James. Not to mention the curious spark hiding behind those piercing, blue eyes. Not only was James looking at him with fury, but he gazed at the bassist with lust. Pure, unadulterated, lust. Jason’s limp bulge caught his eye more times than he could count on two hands. Don’t get him wrong— James remembered how his lover’s hard cock looked. But god, James would be lying if he said he wasn’t day dreaming about how beautiful it would look, hot and heavy in his hands. Or in his mouth.

James wasn’t religious. But he thanked god his guitar covered his bulge. Thanked him for fate gracing him with the reality of being a rhythm guitarist so he wouldn’t have to rip a blistering solo while all he can think about is ass and cock. Jason’s ass and cock, to be exact. And, seriously, fuck Jason for making the guitarist feel like he was a horny teenager all over again while he was in front of thousands of fans.

It was all because of those stupid pants. Those stupidly hot, sexy, utterly delicious pants. If James went insane, he had Jason and his slutty clothing to blame. So of course he was just as pissed and more importantly, just as horny as he exited the stage. The screams of the audience rung in his ears lowly. Nothing but background noise to him as his mind wandered into dangerous boner territory. For fucks sake, he was still in public. Seems like his dick or brain didn’t care enough.

The travel back to the hotel was similar to the walk to the stage, except this time ten times harder and ten times longer. Double whammy. Not too great for James, but he’s sure whatever god is torturing him is having a good laugh. Every time Jason ends up in front of him, whether that be walking to the car, out of the car and into the hotel, or just standing in front of him, James’ eyes are glued to his ass. If he were a little more sober or a little less head over fucking heels for his boyfriend’s body, he would feel a little more shame for his perversion.

Now he lays in his shitty hotel bed, his entire body exhausted. Except for his cock. Because James was a pervert and helplessly addicted to Jason. The anger and jealously had mellowed over the hours and faded into a need to take care of his Jason, so surely he couldn’t be so bad— right? He was just a man. James sighs, half hard, and looks at Jason.

Jason lays beside him, still clothed in his stage wear. Everyone knew Jason sweat buckets on stage and his clothes were clear evidence. His damp black clothes may have been a turn off to others because of this, but it only made James want to come closer. James’ gaze grabs the other boy’s attention and he turns his head to look at his lover. Jason lazily blinks and pays him a lopsided smile.

“..We sounded good, yeah? Why were you so.. weird earlier.”

James scoffs at that.

“You really wanna know?”

Jason nods.

The blonde stares into those beautiful eyes of Jason’s before his thick fingers slither up to the bassist’s wrist to take control of his sweaty wrist. Slowly, James brings Jason’s hand to the guitarist’s half hard dick and Jason only takes a split second to notice that James’ isn’t soft. Jason looks at James with those angelic, nearly innocent eyes and silently shifts closer to his boyfriend.

“..Have you been like this all night?” Jason whispers, his hand still resting upon James’ growing erection.

“God, you have no fuckin’ idea—“

James is cut off by a desperate kiss, and he thinks he could just float into heaven with how delicious Jason’s lips are. He’s been waiting for this all night, damnit, and now that he has Jason all to himself, he’s not sure how long he will be able to control himself. The bassist kissing him begins to slowly move his roughed up palm and fingers up and down James’ shaft. James fights the urge to growl into the kiss and ruts into Jason’s hand like he’ll die if he doesn’t get more friction right now. The angelic brunette obliges to the silent request for more friction; his hand slides on James’ cock with more pressure and feels himself harden.

Suddenly, James pulls away, heaving. Jason looks at him with a hint of confusion in his eyes, but continues to rub him through his jeans.

“Do you know how much you’ve been teasing me tonight? Huh?”

Jason pauses. Teasing him? He hasn’t even spoke to him except for the couple interactions they’ve had on stage.

“Those fucking slutty pants you have on? They’ve been driving me crazy. I’ve wanted to fuck you since the beginning of the night.”

Oh.

Jason blinks. Then blushes. He hadn’t necessarily planned to tease his boyfriend, but knowing that he probably looked like a chunk of meat to a hungry tiger to his boyfriend all night got him twitching in his pants. Were they really that tight?

“Fuck.. that’s why you’ve been so hungry? You’re makin’ me horny too, yknow.”

James growls and smashes their lips together once again before his hands fly to Jason’s tight pants, squeezing his bulge before ripping them off along with his boxers in a single swift movement. Jason lets out a stifled squeak as the cool air hits his full erection, feeling exposed to the completely clothed James on top of him. The brunette tugs on his frontman’s shirt, silently begging him to remove it. James gets the memo and breaks the kiss before throwing off his shirt and beginning to unzip and undo his own jeans. Jason silently thanks his past self for buying those god forsaken jeans when he sees his boyfriend’s cock be ripped out of those tight boxers, standing proud in all of its glory.

“Jesus.. almost forgot how fuckin’ big you are.. Gonna fuck me with that?”

He already knows the answer to that. And so does James, considering he’s already reaching for the lube and popping the squeaky cap open to squirt a thick glob onto his calloused fingertips. Jason watches him, squirming a bit in anticipation. His hole shudders at just the sight of the cold lube hitting James’ skin. It only takes a few seconds after for James to plunge his coated fingers inside. The bassist yelps from the intrusion and grips the sheets and James is quick to shush him. Jason’s glossy eyes meet his lovers and they share a lustful gaze as he’s worked open.

“‘M gonna fuck ya so hard, so good.. just you wait..”

Shifting in his spot, Jason whines as another finger enters him. And another. And another.. and he’s stuffed full.

“Do it now, fuck— don’t need more prep, just— get it in!” Jason pleads.

How could James say no to that?

James lines himself up with the soaked hole presented in front of him like a beautifully wrapped present and grips the smaller boy’s hips before rutting into him and filling him to the halt with a single thrust. Jason nearly screams, but James is quick to cover his mouth with his hand. With teary eyes, Jason looks to his lover again before James starts a brutal pace fucking into his hole with reckless abandon. Sobs try to escape from the restraint that is James’ hand, but fail. If James could change it, he’d let Jason cry his heart out and moan as loud as he pleased. But not tonight, not here— they had to be quiet. The steady squeak of the bed wasn’t much help to their case.

Hips collied with hips as the scent of sex filled the air. Both let out muffled cries and moans of pleasure, minutes passing by, feeling like they were merely seconds. After the blonde was sure Jason was done trying to scream from the pleasure and pain, he removes his hand. James’ chest heaves up and down as he fucks into his boyfriend before he leans down to bring his mouth to Jason’s ear.

“You’re such a dirty fuckin’ boy. Showing off your ass like that, all night. You deserve this, you deserve to get used by me. You are mine. Mine. Got that?”

A whimper, and Jason spasms around James. His hole clenches and unclenches as his cock throbs heavy. A sticky pearl of precum begins to form, and Jason knows that when he cums he’s gonna have the most earth-shattering orgasm he’s ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Everything with James was always good because he was hot and ungodly experienced but it went to another level when he was pent up. Not only were they both hornier and needier than they had been in months, the whole situation felt like a plot out of a porn movie you’d find at a run-down movie store with a underpaid worker who told you to fuck right off.

Jason was getting that fuck.

He loved it.

James huffed and tilted his head back, his mane of soft blonde hair resting on his shoulders as his cock dug into his sub’s prostate. By now, Jason was in tears from the unforgiving pressure on his prostate and knew he wouldn’t last long. Hell, he never lasted long— but it was particularly embarrassing now when he was about to cum untouched in just a couple minutes because his boyfriend was too damn hot and his dick was too damn thick. And when he opened his mouth to warn James about the fact he was about to spill his load all over his newly washed Metallica shirt, James responded by spitting in his mouth.

That was it.

Jason cried out and splattered cum all over himself as he tightened around James. Salty tears dripped down his soft, pink cheeks as James followed shortly after. Hot seed filled him to the brim as the beast of a man above him growled as his hips shook and balls tightened. He looked absolutely divine— but it was hard to focus on anything, even if it was as beautiful as James, when he was having the best orgasm he’s ever had after barely any foreplay, a couple minutes of sex and not a single touch to his dick.

Pathetic, but, he smiles.

James pulls out and sees the breath taking scene below him.

They’re finally both satisfied, because Jason got what he deserved.

this took nearly two hours help

completely normal about dave’s stupid cocky smirk. Very normal

Submitted by Anon

mood rn

could you do something like listing all the kinks the Metallica guys have 👀

𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆: James loves wrapping his large, coarse hands around his partner’s neck. It’s a lovelier sight than any silver or gold chain, priceless too. And he loves pressing down on carotids til his partner is breathless. Having dominance over his partner gets him going like crazy.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆: James loveloveloves marking, be it his partner leaving lasting red scratches on his back, or him leaving bites and hickeys all over his partner’s skin. He loves waking up the next day to see his or their handiwork, and it fills him with deep satisfaction.

𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: It’s so incredibly arousing to hear his partner choke on sobs of pleasure, tears wetting cheeks from how good James is in bed. Even better if they’re from overstimulation, his partner trembling like a leaf under him.

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: Jason’s a submissive character at heart, however confident he may seem. He’s easy to pleasure, truth be told. There’s nothing better to him than being fucked six ways from Sunday with his face pressed into the sheets by his partner, bordering on his next orgasm.

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑-𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆: He’s got lovely auburn curls, and they were made to be pulled. The sharp sensations of having his hair pulled always makes his climaxes so much more intense, especially when his partner is dirty-talking him. Now that makes him come so hard his vision blacks out.

𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄: A slut for praise, Jason easily gets off to his partner telling him how amazing he is, and not just in bed. He can get hard from a simple compliment, and it’s almost embarrassing if not useful in the sheets.

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐓

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑: The game of cat and mouse, hunter and prey, always has his blood running hot and his heart thrumming. It’s chasing down his partner like a predator, actively seeking them out, that has him turned on. Especially when his partner is cornered with nowhere else to run.

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: He has an affinity with horror movies, and really, it gets him off to play a vampire, capturing his partner and whisking them away to his bedroom. Or, he’d also play a serial killer stalking around for his next kill, and his partner would play the lovely victim.

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃: Any chance he gets, he’s biting and gnawing at his partner’s throat, imagining he’s one himself, sometimes hard enough to draw blood. The coppery liquid does things to him, the taste and the visuals of droplets streaking downwards. Rest assured, he licks it all better afterwards.

𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐅 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍

𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Cliff loves going down on his partner, be it eating their pussy out like there’s no tomorrow, or rimming them until they ask for more. Any orifices down there is to be savoured and devoured.

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗: He’s known for his love of weed, and truly, you can’t get better than high sex. Weed amplifies the pleasure between him and his partner, and the lusty haze has him addicted. Most sex with him is likely mixed in with marijuana.

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐌: A tender person, Cliff is so gentle and caring during sex. He’s always making sure his partner is okay, their pleasure is first priority. Aftercare with him is always a must, no questions, and he’ll even steal the moon if his partner asked it.

𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐔𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄: Lars is a little bit of a control freak (who am I kidding, he’s THE control freak). Thus, when his partner acts out of line, they’re soon over his lap, tears in their eyes as he gives harsh spanks on their bare ass. The best part is seeing how red and raw those round globes are afterwards.

𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: Being controlling is Lars’ forte, so don’t be surprised that he enjoys edging. Not so much on himself, but on his partner? He’s teasing them till the sun comes up if he has the opportunity. Granting an orgasm after hours of edging is the greatest feeling in his opinion.

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐊 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: Lars is surprisingly a switch. Yes, I know, shocking. When he’s feeling a little subby, he’ll get on his knees and do anything he’s asked. His favourite is when his partner tells him how to masturbate, because sometimes he needs someone other than James to tell him what to do. Do this, do that, “Yes sir/ma’am!” is all he’ll say, with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas.

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍/𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 - 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

warnings: drug usage, non-consensual somnophilia, dream sex, wet dream(s), blow job(s), (implied) incubus James Hetfield

nsfw under the cut :)

Jason smoked pot. It was his way to unwind and relax after a good show and having dealt with his bandmates’ bullshit. 

He stubbed the finished blunt out, sleep clawing at his eyelids and dragging them down with the force of a thousand weights. Sleep always came easy to him after a good blunt. That night was no different, and he laid down to rest and recharge for the next day’s shitshow. 

His dreams were strange, all a mess of colours and strange figures—nothing was fixed and nothing was recognisable. Until the view of a bunch of blonde curls flash past, and they’re the same dirty dishwater blonde as James’. What was he doing in his dream? He almost never dreamt of his bandmates, least of all the big bad Hetfield. 

But now everything’s shifting and he’s in a bedroom, laying on his bed like he was at that moment, reality and dream blurring and bleeding out into one. The bed dips and Jason looks over. He blinks and James’ large and sweaty figure is loomed over him, big hands pinned to the bed on either side of his head.

“James?” He asks. James smiles down at him. Not viciously like he was used to, but sincerely. It was almost unnerving, if not for Jason’s cheeks getting hot. A large paw trails up his thigh, grabbing at the little fat he had on it. Still grinning down with intent. 

“What’re you..” This wasn’t like James. James was a homophobe, and yet he was teasing Jason, tracing his V-line and his ab line. James doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s too scared to, or maybe he doesn’t bother enough. And when Jason blinks again, his pants are gone, and James’ head rests over his bare cock. 

“Don’t..” his voice sounds like it’s underwater. He can barely hear himself, his resolve weak.

James lets his hands roam, touching and prodding and pinching at any part of Jason that would garner a reaction. He tweaked a nipple—Jason yelped. Grazed his inner thigh to make him squirm, rubbed and prodded at his perineum and had him moan. He know was working quickly to an erection, how embarrassing. James somehow knew each of his weak spots like a lover that had memorised his body like the back of his hand. 

Jason looks down, and James opens his mouth pliantly, taking half of Jason’s cock in one go like he had years of practice. The sensation and warm slickness of James’ mouth was mind-spinningly good to Jason. James seemed so eager to please, locking eyes with Jason while his head bobbed up and down, spit pooling around his lips. 

Was this real? Was James Hetfield blowing him of all people? It couldn’t be…he’d more likely die than that happening—snapped out of his thoughts when James’ hand reaches to cup his balls, caressing them gently with a calloused hand. Jason choked on his saliva as James fondled him, his thighs flexing, body pulled taut.

Jason’s lungs felt like fire, the air was thick. His mind was fuzzy and everything felt so overwhelming. The cotton of the sheets rubbing against his skin, the sweat gliding down his back and James’ rhythmic nosing of his pubes. The vibrations from James’ soft gums had Jason bucking up into his mouth in desperation.

The pressure building in his loins clawed at him, James’ hand moved to rub at his perineum and ghost over his rim. James hummed around him and bursts of pleasure tickled his spine, seizing up into an arch. His hand entangled in the blonde’s hair and pulled. James looked up at him through his darker lashes, eyes ever so slightly teary despite his smile.

James’ grip on his hips were bruisingly tight, holding him in place while Jason’s cock rammed to the back of his throat. What was surprising to the older man was how James didn’t even choke once, any gag reflex he had was thrown out the window. 

When the aching in his belly boiled to its peak, his balls drew tight and he fisted James’ waves in one hand, sheets in the other, body arching off the bed. “James—!” His voice sounds like it came from all around the room, like he was hearing himself through a speaker, voice so close yet so far. His eyes flicker downwards—the younger man’s throat was like a vice, milking every last drop from him. 

When he pulls away, he wipes the come and drool from his mouth. Jason follows James’ blurred movements like he was watching him in slow-mo. Kisses are smattered over his face, but he can’t feel it. He couldn’t feel James’ hands on his body, but he’d like to think they were warm. 

Jason feels weak, feels like his life had been sucked out as well by James. And the man looks glowing. Like an extraterrestrial being. He basks in the glow of this blonde-haired man, lying limp and far too tired to move. 

His eyes flutter shut, and when he shakily reopens them, he finds himself back in the darkness of his room, dimly lit by the moonlight peeking through his curtains. His boxers feel cold, and that’s when he sits up to inspect himself. 

Yup, he came in his boxers from a wet dream about James. 

Dragging his leaden limbs off the bed, he switches on the bathroom light and fills the sink to soak his dirtied drawls. As he inspects himself in the mirror, he notices how he looks paler than normal—and the James-sized handprints on his hips, reddish purple. 

That had to have been a dream…

..right?

Meanwhile, James hums satisfactorily in his own hotel room. He’d recharged well from the delightful meal that was Jason. Hearing him moan so sweetly was like heaven’s music to his ears. And he could still taste the slightly fragrant flavour of Jason’s spend on his tongue. 

He’d have to go back for seconds soon. 

hii if u don't mind could you maybe do some kirk/dave rough sex/hate sex???? top dave!

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄/𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊 - 𝐃𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

warnings: degrading, degradation kink, slight humiliation kink, blow job(s), face-fucking, semi-public sex, Kirk’s a slut (we all knew that)

okay after this setting Dave actually takes Kirk back home I just don’t know how to progress from there but I’m just putting this out because yeah!!

nsfw under the cut :)

From across the bar, Dave glares down Kirk. He knows fully well who the guitarist is—his replacement in Metallica. How dare he waltz right into the band the same day he was kicked onto the streets like a dog? Resentment and bitterness towards him stewed in his heart, hazel eyes staring him down.

Kirk doesn’t seem to notice—he’s too busy laughing and chatting with his bandmates, though there is the small feeling of someone watching him…

Dave's stare is relentless though, studying each movement, each laugh that comes out of Kirk's mouth as if to scrutinize any sign of weakness he may have. It's a fierce gaze, a mixture of envy and anger, directed solely at the unsuspecting guitarist.

Beside him, Junior is a little concerned. He knew it was a bad idea to come to this place, and now Dave was mad and the whole evening would go wasted.

Dave sensed Junior's unease beside him and reluctantly diverted his gaze from Kirk for a moment. He looked at Junior, his expression still hard. "Relax, kid," he muttered, his voice gruff. "Why are you so nervous?”

Although Dave's words are supposed to reassure, they're said without much warmth, still too focused on Kirk across the room. He can still see the guitarist laughing and talking, like an annoying buzzing in his ear that he wished would stop. Frustration simmers within him, and his jaw clenches involuntarily.

Taking a swig of his drink, Dave's gaze once again finds its way back to Kirk, observing him with a mixture of jealousy and disdain. It's as if he cannot help but watch Kirk like a hawk, as if his mere presence is a taunt to his own misfortune.

Kirk walks off to the bathroom, and Dave decides he’ll take his chance. The guitarist turns to Junior, giving him a look that said “I’m going to do something you won’t like”, and Junior takes the hint, immediately moving from the bar to find some chick to spend the night with.

Dave, seizing the opportunity like a pouncing tiger, watches as Junior saunters off. He allows himself a sly smirk, pleased with himself for clearing the path. 

With a steady determination, he peels himself away from the bar and starts making his way across the room towards the bathroom.

Dave's strides are confident as he weaves through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the door to the bathroom. He tries to appear nonchalant, but his heart is pumping with a mix of anticipation and anticipation. 

He's aware that what he's about to do is probably not the wisest choice, but his bitterness towards Kirk is like a wildfire, burning hotter with each step he takes closer to the bathroom.

Dave reaches the door, a look of determination mixed with a hint of mischief in his eyes. He pauses a moment, taking a deep breath, the sound of the music and chatter in the bar just a faded hum in his ears. He grips the handle and pushes the door open, revealing the bathroom beyond.

It’s super empty. To be fair, the bathroom Kirk had gone into was quite secluded, and he never would’ve know it was there if not for Kirk. 

Dave enters the restroom, the sound of the main room now muffled behind the closed door. He looks around, noticing the solitary nature of the bathroom. It's eerily quiet, save for the distant sounds of the bar's main area. It's perfect.

Dave stalks further into the bathroom, his boots softly echoing against the tiled floor. He comes to a stop by a sink right next to Kirk. The guitarist’s brown eyes fly up to see who it was. Kirk gives a small smile, familiarity shining in his eyes.

“Oh, hey, Dave.” 

The fucker remembers his name… 

Dave's expression darkens even further as recognition flashes in Kirk's eyes. A curt nod is given in return, his voice a low, gruff rumble. 

“Kirk.” 

He doesn’t bother with pleasantries, his irritation already brewing underneath the surface. Dave's eyes narrow, studying Kirk, his thoughts swirling with suppressed anger and jealousy.

He moves closer, positioning himself next to the guitarist. Their reflections are seen in the mirror above the sinks, Dave towering over Kirk by a few inches. The close proximity and intimate setting of the bathroom adds a layer of tension in the air.

Meanwhile, Kirk’s heart is hammering in his chest, and he gulps silently, wondering what the hell the ginger would want from him of all people. He barely knew the guy and yet he looked like he had his funeral all planned out.

Dave leans against the sink, his gaze meeting Kirk's in the mirror. He's silent for a long moment, his eyes taking in the guitarist's features, the nervousness in his expression, the gulp, the slight tremble in his hands. Dave can't help but smile wryly. He found it pathetic.

“You look like you've seen a ghost,” Dave says finally, his voice low and mocking. “Relax. I haven't got a baseball bat hidden somewhere.” 

His tone is casual, but the underlying tension is palpable. Dave's eyes never leave Kirk's reflection, his gaze intense and unwavering.

He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping another octave. “I just want to talk...privately.” 

The bathroom's dim lighting casts shadows across Dave's face, making his already fierce features more intense and imposing.

Kirk's heart is now slamming against his ribcage, his nerves on full throttle under Dave's intense gaze. He swallows again, hard. 

“O-okay,” he stutters out, trying to remain calm despite the obvious implication of Dave's request. “What do you want to talk about?” Dave lets out a snort, a mocking smile playing across his lips. He doesn't move away, still standing only a few feet apart. 

“You know, Kirk, I've been watching you,” Dave muses, his voice almost in a purr. “You seem...popular. The golden boy of Metallica.”The bitterness in Dave's tone is clear, his words spitting venom.  

“Everyone seems to love you. Look at you now, getting fawned over by everyone in that room. I bet it feels good, huh?”

He steps closer, invading Kirk's personal space. The guitarist can feel Dave's warmth radiating off him, his scent filling the small area of the bathroom. Dave's eyes burn into Kirk's, his voice dropping even lower. 

“Must be nice...having everything handed to you on a damn silver platter.”

Dave leans in slightly further, his body almost touching Kirk's. He can see the fear in the guitarist's eyes, the way his breaths shallow out, the way his Adam's apple bobs nervously. Dave revels in it, relishing in the power he has over Kirk in this moment.

“Must be nice,” Dave repeats, his voice a mere whisper now. He's close enough that his lips brush Kirk's ear with each word. “That they love you so much. That you get their applause...their admiration...their respect.”

Dave's breath is hot against Kirk's ear, sending shudders down his spine. The ginger's body is so close now, the heat coming off him mixing with the cold air of the bathroom. Dave seems to almost envelope Kirk, his presence overpowering and intimidating.

And Kirk can’t help but find it so arousing, having Dave looming over him. It’s got his blood thrumming, however much scared he was at the moment.

Dave's hand comes up, gripping Kirk's throat in a rough gesture. He uses it to pull Kirk closer, the guitarist pressed up against his body. Dave's chest is nearly touching the back of Kirk's, and he can feel the man's heart pounding through his shirt.

His other hand comes up to rest on Kirk's hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh with almost bruising force. Dave's mouth is hovering millimeters away from the nape of Kirk neck, his voice coming out as a dark, sultry purr.

“You have no idea how much I hate you,” Dave growls lowly, almost right into Kirk’s ear. “How much I have to bite my tongue whenever I see you up on that stage, with that stupid, pretty face of yours. Do you have any idea how much the thought of you makes me seethe inside?”

Dave's grip on Kirk's neck and hip tightens, his body pressed almost flush against the guitarist. His breath is coming fast now, quickened by his own anger and...something else. 

“You look so damn perfect up there,” Dave continues, his voice filled with an underlying hint of lust. “So damn perfect...and I hate you for it.”

Kirk shudders, his jeans feeling a little tighter. He doesn’t resist Dave. To be honest, Dave had been an object of his fantasies for a little while, with those dark devious eyes and that smirk that always had him spilling onto his hand.

Dave noses along the side of Kirk's neck, inhaling his scent. It's driving him crazy, and he can't deny the effect the guitarist is having on him right now. His body is reacting in ways he refuses to admit, the mixture of anger and desire swirling inside him like a storm.

Dave's hands wander now, caressing and gripping Kirk's hips and sides in a possessive way. His mouth continues to explore the side of Kirk's neck, nipping and sucking, leaving little marks on the sensitive flesh.

“I should strangle you right now,” Dave husks, his voice a mix of anger and lust. “I should wrap my hands around your pretty little neck and squeeze until you’re gasping and begging for air.”

The words send a shiver down Kirk's spine, his body responding to the rough touch and harsh words. He swallows hard, his back arching a little without him realizing it, pushing him closer against Dave.

Dave can feel the response in Kirk's body, the subtle arching, the shivers, the quickening breaths. He smiles against Kirk's skin, his own breath coming out hot.

“You'd like that, wouldn’t you?” He growls lowly. “You'd like me to get rough with you...use you like I own you.”

One of Dave's hands moves to the front of Kirk's jeans, palming his growing hardness through the fabric. He smirks at the sharp intake of breath from the guitarist, his own body reacting eagerly to the contact.

“Look at you,” Dave hisses, his hand continuing to palm Kirk's through the denim. “You're so goddamn eager for it, aren't you? You'd let me do anything to you, right now. I bet you'd even get on your knees for me.”

The words make Kirk gasp, his hips canting into Dave’s hand involuntarily. A flush of shame and arousal washes over him, and he can’t help the way his body responds to the ginger. It’s maddening, the way Dave is talking to him, with so much anger and lust in his tone.

Dave's breath comes even harder now, ragged and hot against Kirk's ear. His hand continues to work over the guitarist, his touch rough and possessive. 

“You have no goddamn clue, how badly I want to break you,” he murmurs, practically growling the words out. “How much I want to hear you begging and whining for more.”

Dave's lips are pressed against the side of Kirk's throat, his teeth scraping across the flesh. He can taste the guitarist’s desperation on his tongue, the neediness and vulnerability. Dave feels himself beginning to lose control, the anger and lust mixing together until they are an incoherent wave inside him. 

“Say it,” he commands, his voice a rough, dark whisper. “Say you want me to break you.”

Kirk’s breathing is fast and heavy, his body tensed against Dave. He can feel the heat of the moment coursing through him, the need for it almost overwhelming. Dave’s words, his touch, it’s like a drug that he can’t get enough of. 

“Break me,” he gasps, his voice ragged and pleading. “Please…break me…just please…I’ll do anything.”

Satisfaction and desire flood Dave at the words, a dark, possessive thrill coursing through him. He smirks as he leans in close, his teeth nipping at Kirk’s ear. 

“Anything? Those are dangerous words, y'know.” 

Kirk lets out a quiet whimper, the pain and pleasure mixing into a heady sensation. “I don’t care,” he pants out, his whole body feeling like molten fire. “Just…break me…use me…please…”

Dave’s grip in Kirk’s hair tightens, pulling his head further back. His lips trail down the exposed skin, nipping and sucking, marking the guitarist as his own. 

“Careful what you ask for, sweetness,” he husks, the nickname a mockery as much as it is an endearment. “I might just take you up on that offer.”

Dave's lips have now found Kirk’s collarbone, tasting the skin there with his tongue. He lets his hand fall from Kirk's hair, sliding down his back to grip his ass, pulling him harder against him. 

“If I do,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, “then there’s no going back. Understand?”

Kirk’s breath comes out in a harsh gasp as Dave’s hand explores his body, his own hands coming up to clutch at the ginger’s shoulders. He nods, his words coming out in a needy, pleading whisper.

“Yes, I understand. I don’t care. Just…” He lets out a guttural moan as Dave’s lips move to a sensitive spot on his neck.

Dave's lips turn up into a sardonic smile against Kirk's neck at the needy sounds coming from the guitarist. His hands grip and squeeze relentlessly, pressing the smaller man against his body. 

“God, you're so desperate it's pathetic,” he muses, his tone a combination of amusement and lust.

Dave’s hands are everywhere now, roaming across Kirk’s body as he presses him up against the wall. He lets his lips explore the sensitive flesh of the guitarist’s neck, biting and sucking at the tender spots. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with want. “You’re so willing, so eager. You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you?”

Kirk’s mind is a swirling mess of need and shame, the sensations and Dave’s words sending waves of both arousal and humiliation through him. He gasps and whines as Dave’s lips continue their assault on his neck, his body trembling beneath the ginger’s touch. 

“Yes,” he manages out in a hoarse whisper, his voice raw and needy. “Yes…anything…please…”

Dave chuckles a little at Kirk's obvious neediness, his body and reaction fueling the fire in his gut. He pulls back from the guitarist's neck, his eyes raking over Kirk's flushed and panting form. 

“You’re so vulnerable,” he taunts, his voice harsh and mocking. “So willing to let me do whatever I want to you. Are you like this with James and Lars? I bet you are..”

Kirk’s breath hitches at the words, his eyes widening at the mention of James and Lars. A wave of shame and guilt washes over him as he’s reminded of his bandmates, who are blissfully unaware of the things happening behind the bathroom door. 

“No,” he manages to get out, his voice quiet and shaky. “I’m not like this with them…”

Dave laughs, the sound devoid of humor. “Sure you’re not,” he mocks cruelly. “I bet you beg and whine for their attention just as you are for me. You’d let them touch you and kiss you, wouldn’t you?”

Kirk tries to deny it, shaking his head weakly, but he can’t find the energy to do so, the truth sitting heavy in his gut. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t though of such things with his band mates, especially James. 

But he also knew it would never happen, that such feelings were unrequited. So instead he just lets out a small whimper, his eyes dropping to the floor in shame.

Dave notices the change in Kirk’s expression and body language, the way the guitarist avoids his gaze and fidgets weakly. A cruel smile plays on his lips as he leans in closer, trapping Kirk against the wall. 

“Oh,” he teases, his voice dripping with mockery. “That’s right, they’re not exactly interested in a needy guy like you, are they? That’s why you’re so desperate for it, why you’re letting ME have you like this.”

The sting of Dave’s words hit hard, a truth that cuts deep. Kirk can feel his eyes begin to prick with tears, a mixture of shame and hurt swirling inside him. He nods weakly, unable to deny it. 

“Yes…” he whispers, his voice small and defeated. “Yes…I’m desperate…please…you’ll give it to me…right? You’ll give me what they won’t…”

Dave’s smirk turns more smug at the broken look on Kirk’s face, savoring the sight of the guitarist so vulnerable and pathetic. He likes him like this, begging and needy, all for him. 

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low growl as he murmurs, “That’s right, I'll give you what you want, pretty boy. But you’re gonna have to do something for me first.”

The words send a thrill through Kirk’s body, his mind immediately going to what Dave wants. He nods again, more eager this time than before. 

“Wh-what do you want me to do?” he asks, his voice soft.

Dave's grin widens, his hand coming up to grip Kirk's chin, tilting his head up to look at him. 

“Get on your knees for me,” he commands, his tone gentle but firm. “Show me how desperate you are.”

The demand makes a flush of heat spread through Kirk, his body practically aching to comply. He doesn’t hesitate, slipping out from Dave to kneel on the floor in front of him. He looks up at the ginger, his eyes wide and pleading. 

“Like this?” He asks meekly.

Dave looks down at Kirk, his gaze taking in the sight of the guitarist on his knees before him. A dark thrill goes through him as he looks at the other man, a heady mix of power and lust swirling together. 

“Yes,” he responds, “just like that. You look so pretty down there, on your knees for me. I bet you like being on your knees, huh? Makes you feel like you belong to me, doesn’t it?”

The words go straight to Kirk’s core, making him shiver and whine unconsciously. It’s shameful, how badly he’s craving this, how good being on his knees for Dave makes him feel. 

Dave sees the way Kirk’s entire demeanor shifts, the way he trembles and whines, and it only fuels the dominating fire that was starting to burn inside of him. He moves forward, standing directly in front of the kneeling guitarist, his hand coming up to grip the man’s hair once more. 

“You know what to do.”

The command is clear, and Kirk is helpless to deny or resist it. His hands come up to Dave’s pants, unbuttoning and tugging them down until they pool at the ginger’s ankles, revealing his growing hardness. 

He looks up at Dave, his eyes clouded with a mixture of submission and lust. “Can I…?” He asks, his voice soft and needy, asking Dave’s permission.

Dave lets out a low hum, his fingers tightening in Kirk’s hair at the pleading tone of his voice. The sight of the guitarist at his feet, so obedient and vulnerable, is beyond intoxicating. 

“Go ahead, sweetness,” he purrs, his tone almost taunting. “Take me.”

The permission sends a jolt of excitement and anticipation through Kirk, making him shiver again. He leans forward, his eyes still locked with Dave’s like he can’t look away, and wraps his lips around the tip of the ginger’s throbbing cock.

His eyes never leave Dave’s, watching the ginger’s expressions carefully, taking in every little twitch and gasp. He takes it as a point of pride, how he’s able to affect Dave this way.

Dave lets out a low hiss as he watches Kirk take him in, his eyes dark and focused on the kneeling guitarist. It’s erotic and powerful, to watch as the other man goes to work on him. 

“God damn,” he mutters out, his voice ragged and rough. “You look so good like this, sweetness. On your knees, my big cock in your pretty little mouth. You like it, don’t you?”

A shiver runs through Kirk again, his body and mind overwhelmed with how good this feels. The words, the tone, the dominant way Dave is talking to him, it’s all feeding the fire inside him that only wants more of it. He moans around Dave’s cock, trying to take more of his length down his throat.

Dave hisses again, gripping Kirk’s raven curls tight. The guitarist holds the sides of Dave’s hips. But it feels so good to be gagging and choking on Dave, knowing that his bandmates could walk in and find them. 

The ginger hums smugly as Kirk finally takes him to the hilt, stroking his hair softly now. “I’m surprised you can take all of me—you done this before, little slut?” His cheeks burn in embarrassment, but he groans around Dave’s dick again. 

He isn’t sure whether that’s a denial or confirmation, but either way, Dave’s got Kirk blowing him. 

The ravenette starts to bob his head up and down, his blunt nails digging into the soft skin of Dave’s hips. He noses ginger pubes, the curls nestled neatly over his cock. As Kirk gets more used to the pace, he goes faster, and Dave chokes on a moan, eyes squeezing shut. 

“Shit—”Is all he has to say, fisting Kirk’s hair again. Soon, he’s facefucking him, Kirk’s eyes prickling with tears. God, it burns, but it feels so good..

Tears trickle down the guitarist’s cheeks, drool dribbling down his chin, but it’s worth seeing Dave come undone from his work, hissing and groaning gutturally. 

Kirk is pliant, letting Dave use him as he wishes. Dave takes advantage of that, using him like a fuck toy and chasing his own release. Kirk chokes on him a few times, but Dave doesn’t stop, and he won’t, not until he’s coming down Kirk’s throat.

The sounds they’re making are terribly obscene and loud. The thrill of knowing that anyone could walk in at any second has Kirk groaning around Dave’s cock again. Dave shudders, his release draws near and Kirk knows it. He relishes in it.

The ginger’s balls draw tight, and he shoved Kirk’s head down to his hilt, keeping him there as he finishes down his throat. Kirk takes it all, swallowing it and savouring the taste like it was holy water. 

Kirk pulls off with a wet pop, and Dave runs a hand over his own flushed face. Even as his dick hangs limp now, Jesus, he’s big. And if he’ll let him, Kirk would gladly bend over for Dave. 

“You’re a vacuum.” Dave mutters, tucking himself back into his jeans. Kirk grins and sticks his tongue out, letting Dave see his spend on his tongue. “Christ, you’re a little fucking whore, aren’t you?” He laughs breathlessly, helping Kirk up, who also chuckles.

“Take me back to your place.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

posting gooner shit on twt im psykotron btw :p