I WILL Get Him Pregnant Mark My Words

self indulgent jameson.

flotsam & jetsam era Jason lives in my head rent free if you even care

hey vic, i really like your writings and i'm here to request something. so, could you write about hetstaine ?? 'm thinking about fwb hetstaine, they were fighting over something and james was about to leave dave, but dave stopped him from leaving him, shaking and desperate. it's like a they fight and they make out afterwards kind of thing, thank you tho!

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞

warnings: fwb, arguing, making up & making out, makeup sex, anal sex, anal fingering

nsfw under the cut :)

This is stupid. 

They’re arguing over something they’ve both already forgotten, and the whole situation is spiralling out of control. Hurtful words are thrown carelessly, angry shouts fill the once comforting silence. 

Dave wonders how it all came down to this.

Him and James had been friends with benefits. No strings attached, just casual fucking like good friends would. Only Dave’s let James too close into his heart, because the blonde knows all the sore spots to poke at to make things worse.

Dave should’ve never agreed to this in the first place. He should’ve cut it off the second he felt that knot in his stomach twist anxiously whenever James would smile. 

Now he’s here, in his apartment, yelling in his bandmate’s face and being yelled at in return. And Dave hates how he can’t ignore the way the tears in James’ eyes are tugging at his heartstrings.

Dave steps back to take a breath and wipe away the few tears stubbornly falling down his cheeks. 

He glances over James, eyes landing on the bruise now forming on the blonde’s cheek and guilt washes over him instantly. He’s never lost control like that before, but it’s like a flip was switched inside his brain and all the rage and frustration and heartbreak all just came bursting out all at once. 

Dave’s heart clenches at the sight. 

“God, James, I’m-“

He takes another step towards James, hand reaching out but he stops himself. He wants to hold James, wants to comfort him and tell him how sorry he is, but he doesn’t think his touch would be welcomed. Not with the way James is now staring at him as if he’s the antichrist incarnate.

“I didn’t mean to-“ Dave stammers out anyway. James cuts him off with an unamused scoff and Dave flinches at the cold glare.

“Save it, Dave. Just….” James huffs, pushing his bangs out of his face with frustration as he tries to find his words. “Just don’t.”

Dave shuts his mouth and clenches his teeth together. He wants to protest, wants to apologize and grovel and beg for forgiveness, but James’ expression is hard and unforgiving. And Dave knows he’s pushed past the point of no return and he’s just going to have to deal with the inevitable consequences.

There’s another moment of silence as James rubs his temples. Dave doesn’t dare to speak. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” James mutters after a while, so low that it’s almost a whisper. Dave’s heart sinks and James doesn’t even need to elaborate any further because Dave already knows exactly what he means. 

Dave’s body goes cold. 

“James… No, wait, come on,” Dave whispers. He moves quick to James’ side again, fingers grasping at thin air when he’s met with a step back. 

James shakes his head and sighs out a shaky breath. The tears are falling freely from his eyes now and it hurts Dave so much just to see how broken the other looks. It’s all his fault.

“You said this was casual,” James says and Dave’s not quite sure if it’s a statement or an accusation, “Neither of us were supposed to get hurt. You promised, Dave. You promised.”

“James, please. Just , listen to me-.” Dave reaches for James again, hands landing on soft skin. He carefully caresses the blonde’s face, making sure to avoid the spot he knows will bruise tomorrow. 

James doesn’t shy away from the touch, but he doesn’t lean into it either. It feels distant, cold, unfamiliar.

“What else is there to say?” James asks, voice rough and low. But Dave catches the brief flash of something in his eyes. Something tender and vulnerable and Dave just wants to wrap his arms around the other and never let go.  

“James, I….” Dave swallows thickly, finding comfort by gently rubbing his thumb across James’ jaw. “I’m sorry. I won’t- I won’t lose my temper like that ever again, I promise. I’m so, sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

Dave lets his thumb run across James’ cheek, wiping away the tears. It doesn’t get the response Dave wants, it doesn’t elicit the same laugh and grin he’s used to seeing whenever he’d do small gestures like this but he can’t bring himself to pull away. 

“Don’t leave me,” he repeats, “I love you too much to let you go.”

James’ expression crumbles but he doesn’t push Dave away. One of his hands tentatively moves up and Dave holds his breath as fingers clutch at the edge of his shirt, pulling his body forward. He tries to ignore the way his heart leaps in his chest as he brings his other hand up to gently cup the other’s face while his shirt is now gripped with two sweaty palms. 

James leans his face into Dave’s hand, closing his eyes before letting out a small sob. 

“You can’t just say that,” James says in a shaky voice, so vulnerable, and Dave’s never seen him like this before.

Dave’s heart breaks all over again but he keeps his hands gentle and soft on James’ face, thumbs softly wiping away the tears. He leans closer, their foreheads bumping together. He can smell his own cologne on James’ skin.

Dave tries not to cling on too tight in case James changes his mind and pulls away. 

“Don’t leave me.”

“It’s not fair,” James mutters, his grip tightening on Dave’s shirt. He opens his eyes and Dave almost loses himself in the watery blue of them. “I never asked for… I didn’t want…” James chokes on his words a few times before he finally manages to say what he meant. 

“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.”

Dave’s breath hitches and he moves his hands to cradle the other’s face in his hands, heart racing and throat dry. There’s an overwhelming need to close the space between them and Dave fights every urge to just lean down and kiss James like he’s been wanting to do for months. 

Dave can’t take his eyes off of James, drinking in the sight of those eyes and the way the blonde glances down at his lips every few seconds. It’s taboo to the both of them. They’d made it clear that they would never kiss.

Dave tries to find his voice, but all that comes out is a strangled whimper.

James must see the desperation in Dave’s eyes because Dave knows he looks completely helpless and vulnerable. But he doesn’t give a damn right now because the person he had been yearning for for over a year was standing right in front of him, looking at him like he actually meant something more than just a good time. 

Dave’s thumbs gently caress the other’s cheeks. Fingers move across the skin, tracing the fading marks and lines and blemishes he’s grown so familiar with over the months they’ve spent together. James lets him, leaning into every touch like a cat to its favourite person.

James’ hands slowly move to the back of Dave’s neck, fingers tangling into the soft blonde hair. The hair he used to pull and tug on without a care in the world while he held Dave down to the mattress and fucked him like there was no tomorrow. And James knows all the buttons to push and all the spots to touch and all the words to use on Dave to make him shiver and whimper and moan. 

But right now, the only thing James can think of doing is holding on.

“I hate you,” James mutters after a few silent minutes, but he doesn’t pull away. 

If anything, the grip on Dave’s hair tightens and James uses it to tug his head upwards, forcing Dave to look up at him. Dave’s fingers run down, tracing the outline of James’ chin and his throat and the top of his collarbones. 

Tanned hands move to the other’s hips, hesitating for a moment, before pulling him closer. Their lips almost touch.

“Then hate me some more,” Dave replies, his voice barely above a whisper as he feels James’ hands grip the his hips, pulling him even closer and James’ breath stutters. James’ hands wander to Dave’s shirt, bunching up the fabric in tight fists as his eyes scan the ginger shakily, anger and so many more emotions swirling in those beautiful blue eyes. 

“Hate me if you’re going to let me love you.”

Dave doesn’t know who leans in first but a second passes and James’ mouth crashes against his lips. It’s rough and messy and their teeth clang against each other more than once but Dave can’t find the energy to care. He kisses back with just as much force, hands reaching up to clutch the other’s jaw as they both try to reclaim each other’s mouths in a bruising kiss. 

“I hate you so much,” James mutters between kisses as he holds him right against him. They’ve said many times that this wasn’t allowed between them—they were just friends. But now it felt so right.

Dave can’t help the quiet whimper that rises when he feels James pull him down by the hips until their lower bodies are pressed together tightly. He desperately pushes his tongue into the other’s mouth, letting his own hands roam down, grabbing and pulling and just trying to bring as much contact as possible. 

He’s got James’ lower lip between his teeth, biting and sucking the skin as his tongue invades the others mouth. His body is aching to be pinned down and touched and marked with the familiar bruises the other has left on him countless times before.

They collapse on the bed, limbs tangled together and chests heaving as they finally pull back to catch their breath. Dave lets his hands settle on James’ hips, fingers tracing the sharp jut of his hip bone, desperate to feel as much of James as he can before it’s taken away from him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says once his breathing has come down to a steady pace. He gently pushes the bangs out of James’ face and he can’t help a small smile when James turns his face to lean into his touch once more.

“It’s okay,” James tells him and Dave feels his heart skip a beat at the small, sad smile on the blonde’s face. 

The expression quickly dissolves back into a scowl and Dave can’t help the nervous shudder that goes through him, but his heart skips a beat again when James crawls on top of him and pins his wrists above his head. Dave looks up at the blonde above him wide-eyed and breathless.

“You’re insufferable,” James mutters as his hands release their grip on Dave’s wrists and move to tug at his shirt, “And stubborn. And annoying. And stupid. And—” he yanks the fabric up, discarding it somewhere on the floor. Dave lets out a surprised noise as he’s flipped over onto his stomach and he can’t help arching his back at the way James’ hands run down his spine.

Dave’s breath stutters, his mind already fuzzy and he can barely focus. He almost misses the way James moves away from him but he can’t miss the sound of a bottle uncapping and it makes his head swim with dizzying thoughts. 

“Stop being so difficult,” James mutters behind him and Dave can feel his breath against his ear. Fingers tug at the belt buckle of his jeans, pushing the fabric down and off his thighs. Dave lets out a whimper that turns into broken moan as he feels James kiss the back of his neck, sucking the skin there before nipping it with his teeth. 

Dave grips the sheets underneath him to ground himself.

Dave can feel the familiar buzz in his brain and the pleasant weight of James’ body against him, pressing him down into the bed as he mouths against the back of his shoulder and Dave’s fingers clench the sheets tighter. He wants to say something but the only sounds he can make are strangled moans and whimpers.

Dave feels James’ hands grip his hips hard and he lets out a shuddering breath, waiting impatiently for the touch he craves. 

Dave tries pushing his hips up into the other’s hands, a low whine leaving his throat when there’s a rough tug to his hips and he’s pushed down onto the bed.

“Hey, hey, be patient,” James breathes in his ear and Dave can’t help but let out another strangled noise. He turns his face to press in into the sheets beneath him, breathing through his nose to slow down his racing heart.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Dave says, choking out the words in between moans and sighs and cries when James’ fingers press into all the right places while the other mouthens at the back of his neck. Dave can’t keep still under James’ touch, shifting his hips as he presses back against him and he relishes in the way the blonde groans and curses in his ear.

“You’re mine, y’know that?” James mutters against Dave’s neck and Dave responds with a moan, pushing his hips back against the other.

“James… Please…” Dave barely manages to croak out, his voice shaky and he doesn’t even care if it sounds desperate. He’s always been impatient and needy when it comes to this, and James always loves to take his time.

James’ hands slide along Dave’s thighs, teasing and coaxing out soft mewls and gasps. And with James’ lips and hot breath caressing his ear, Dave feels every touch like electricity against his skin.

”Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?” James growls, hands gripping the ginger’s hips. Dave arches his back into the touch and lets out another choked moan.

“Stop holding back,” James mutters and Dave only just realizes that he’s been biting his lip to muffle his moans, “I want to hear you. I need to hear you.”

The ginger merely whimpers again, feeling slick, calloused fingers prod at his hole. He bites down a shudder as James starts with one finger, curling and uncurling it in a way that has Dave holding onto the pillow for dear life. Then he adds another, scissoring the two, spreading his fingers out in him. Then a third, and Dave’s drooling into his pillow, clenching his pillow so tight his knuckles are white.

“You’ve always got to make things so difficult for yourself,” James mumbles as his fingers work Dave open slowly, stretching him with gentle touches and Dave wants to cry out, wants to tell James to just hurry up and just push into him, but all he can do is gasp and moan. “Always gotta push people away even though you actually want them to stay”

Dave’s vision swims as James’ fingers move inside him. His head is swimming with lust and need, but there’s a small pang of pain in his heart.

Fingers run down his back, blunt nails scratching down his spine and Dave lets out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels James’ tongue run across his shoulder, teeth nipping the bare skin. 

Dave feels himself coming undone before they’ve even really started.

“You say that a lot,” Dave mutters in shaky breath and he can practically feel James roll his eyes. James chuckles, low and rough and Dave feels himself shiver when a hand gently pushes on the top of his head. 

“Bite the pillow,” James mutters against his ear and the words make Dave clench around nothing but the feeling of James' body pressing against his.

Dave bites the pillow so hard he’s worried he might just tear through the fabric. He moans and whines and shudders as his body is pushed and pulled and twisted and rearranged on the sheets in every way James wanted. Soft caresses and touches are replaced with sharp nails and rough hands and hot kisses and bites that leave marks behind on pale skin. 

Dave’s mind is swirling and he has no idea when he lost all semblance of control and how he ended up with his legs over James’ shoulder and his head spinning as he clings to the bedsheet like it was his lifeline. Turns out he didn’t need to bite his pillow after all.

Dave’s never really been one to be loud in bed, but he can’t seem to keep his mouth shut now. Everything feels like too much. 

“Ah, James. I—ah. Please—” The words don’t even make sense to him but he tries to voice out whatever it is that’s going through his mind. He’s overwhelmed and his brain is struggling to catch up with his mouth. All he’s focused on is the sensation of James’ tip rubbing against him.

He feels James take his hands, intertwining their fingers together and pinning both of his hands down to the mattress. Dave looks up at James with heavy lidded eyes, barely managing to focus on the sharp blue swirling with so many emotions. His heart feels so full and he almost feels like he’s going to burst.

“I love you,” he mutters in a breath and he would’ve been embarrassed about how desperate the words would’ve sounded like if it wasn’t for the way James’ entire demeanor softens.

James lets out a long, shaky breath before leaning down and pressing their foreheads together. Dave lets out a small gasp when James slowly pushes into him and Dave’s hands clench around the ones holding them together. 

“I hate you,” James says again and Dave can feel his breath on his face. “I hate that I love you this much.”

Dave can’t help the whine that escapes him, but it’s quickly replaced by a moan when James starts moving. It’s overwhelming and Dave’s not sure how he managed to last this long. 

“Me too. I hate how much I love you, it’s killing me,” Dave manages to say between gasps as he meets James’ thrusts with shallow moans. His hands are still pinned in between James’ in a tight grip and he’ll probably have tiny dots of red marked down his wrists for days.

“You really know how to screw up everything you touch, don’t you?” James murmurs but his tone is softer now, almost in awe. “You’ve already ruined me and you still have the audacity to make me fall in love with you.”

Dave’s too far gone to think of any response to that. All he knows right now is that he has James over him, inside him and he’s surrounded and consumed by everything that is James. Nothing else matters to him anymore.

Every touch, every sound, every breath and every movement of James sends jolts of pleasure through his entire body that leaves Dave dizzy and breathless. He’s completely lost in the sensation of James and Dave lets himself be pulled and pushed and guided. All he can do is keep his eyes on James, taking in the sight of sweat soaked blond hair and heaving chest that is moving in tandem with his. He would give anything to have this moment last forever.

Dave’s lost in the way James’ lips are pressed against all the sensitive spots on his neck while his hands are holding Dave’s hips in a tight hold, thrusting up into him while he continues the same steady pace. Dave grips the hand holding his a little tighter, a gasp and whimper escaping him. There’s the familiar tingle down in his loins, and he knows he’s getting close.

Dave’s not quite sure if it’s the way James keeps whispering how well he’s taking him, or the way he kisses his skin while saying he hates him, but his mind is spinning and he can’t hold back anymore. 

“James. I’m gonna—” Dave’s words dissolve back into a whine as his head curves back against the pillows, brow scrunched up and gasping. “Please. I need—I’m gonna...”

“Come for me.”

James’ voice breaks through the haze and Dave lets out a gasp, feeling his body tense up as his toes curl into the sheets. The pressure building up inside him finally releases and his spine arches off the bed. His legs shake as he comes, clenching around James so tight he might snap the poor guy’s dick off, and his vision swims with white. Dave is distantly aware of the sound of his own name echoing in his ears and the feeling of James thrusting into him, pumping his load deep into him, holding each other tight. 

His body is still trembling, every nerve in his body on fire and Dave’s struggling to catch his breath. He’s completely overwhelmed and drained. He’s not sure which part of his body is the most sensitive right now. 

A hand brushes against his face and Dave can hear James’ panting above him, before he feels the weight of the blonde on him as James’ body collapses. Dave weakly moves his arms around to hold the other against him.

They lay there in silence, the only sound in the room is the sound of their jagged breaths and the pounding of his own heart. Dave can feel James’ breath against his collarbones and the weight of his body on top of him leaves him with a sense of calm he hasn’t felt in months and he could just fall asleep at that very moment.

They’re both hot and sweaty and sticky and Dave’s pretty sure they need to change the bed sheets after this. But Dave doesn’t feel like moving and he’s more than happy to stay like this with James over him, their heartbeats racing against each other’s.

Dave idly runs his fingers down the other’s spine, tracing the sweaty skin and he hums gently at the shiver it earns from James. Dave can feel James’ hands gently rubbing at his sides, as if trying to soothe out the small tremors still going through his body from the aftershocks.

“I love you.” Comes a small, soft murmur, barely audible. 

Dave can’t even begin to describe what hearing those words from James does to his heart, and he hugs the other tighter against his body before moving one of his hands to cup the blonde’s face.

“Promise you won’t change your mind?” Dave’s voice comes out in a weak whisper and there’s a hint of insecurity in his words.

He feels James’ head move up from the crook of his neck and the other gently rests his chin against his chest so he can look at Dave with a frown. 

“Why the hell would I change my mind?” James mutters, a hint of annoyance in his voice. One of his hands moves to intertwine their fingers together. “You’re stuck with me now.”

And Dave thinks—no, he knows—that everything will be alright.

hii, could you please write about dave/lars rough sex or hatesex? something like putting lars in his place, yk. thank you!

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄/𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 - 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐔𝐩

warnings: anal sex, rough sex, hate sex, no prep, degradation, choking, brief violence, no aftercare, brat taming (?)

thanks for the wonderful idea anon! didn’t know I needed this in my life

nsfw under the cut :)

Megadeth and Metallica are playing the same music festival—things have been cordial between Dave and the rest of the band, but Lars has been doubling over on his bitchiness disguised as wanting to “reconcile”. Dave’s getting tired of it, even as he puts on a tough front. 

And they’re soon alone in a room. Lars said he wanted to talk, smiling at him from across the room sardonically.

Dave rolls his eyes at Lars' mocking smile. Lars has been nothing but a thorn in Dave's side lately, and he's grown tired of his antics.

His ex was a handful to deal with, and his attempts at “reconciliation” were really just mean-spirited words with second meanings and sugared smiles. He doesn’t know how that new guy Jason would deal with them—hell, he’s heard that the poor lad’s been hazed. Maybe he should call him sometime—but not now.

Dave steps closer to Lars, the anger in his eyes palpable, "Lars, what's your problem man? Why you gotta be such a dick all the time?"

“I don’t have a problem, Dave.”

"Oh, really?" Dave scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, "Then why do you keep throwing those damn snide remarks my way? You think it's funny to mess with me like this?"

“You’re the one who keeps reacting to them.”

"Cause they're annoying!" Dave snaps, his voice rising. "Why can't you just leave me alone instead of poking and prodding all the time?"

“Be the bigger man.” Lars drawls, that snarky look in his eye. He’s tempted to smack him silly…

Dave grits his teeth, Lars's words only serving to stoke the fire of his temper. "I already am, you fucking fairy.” “Call me that again,” says the harmless kitten to the ferocious tiger.

“I’ll call you whatever the hell I want, fairy.” Dave scornfully spits, getting up in Lars’ personal space.

Lars uses the flat side of his palm to push the hollow of Dave’s shoulder socket. “Go fuck yourself. Still bitter we broke up and I left you for Kirk?” Dave stumbles a few steps back from the push, rubbing his shoulder. "Please, you're one to talk," he shoots back, a bitter edge to his voice. "I'm not the one who ended things to go chase after some long-haired pretty boy."

He can't help but feel a pang of bitterness with the words, the memories of their break up still fresh in his mind. It had been a messy affair, and Dave had taken it hard. He knew he shouldn’t let Lars get under his skin like this, but sometimes it’s hard to hold back.

"Maybe if you had more to offer, I wouldn't have left your sorry ass." Lars shoots back, a smug smile on his lips.

Dave's eyes narrowed at the smirk on Lars's lips. "I’d leave you for Kirk too. Pretty little thing.” Lars’ green eyes narrow to hear slits, throwing his hair over his shoulder. 

“Talk about my man again. Do it.”

Dave raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, did I strike a nerve? You get all possessive when it comes to your little guitar boy toy? I could take him from you any day. It’s not like you’re packing down there anyway."

Lars grits his teeth, coming up into Dave’s face. “Keep his name out your dirty mouth.”

Dave leans in, not backing down from the challenge, "Why? Are you worried I'll steal your precious little Kirk? Or is it the other way around? Maybe he's already eyeing his next guitar daddy."

He can see the irritation mounting in Lars’ face, and Dave can't help but revel in how easy it is to get under his skin. It's obvious Lars has a soft spot when it comes to Kirk, and Dave knows how to press all the right buttons.

Lars grabbed the collar of Dave’s shirt in his curled fist, dragging Dave down to his height so that they were nose-to-nose. “You really know how to make someone fucking mad. This is why you were booted from the band.”

Dave felt his temper flare as Lars grabbed his collar, yanking him down. He returned the glare, meeting Lars's eyes without faltering.

"Oh, spare me the high and mighty act," He snapped back. "You only kicked me out cause you knew I was a better musician than you’d ever be."

Lars’ fist curls—he just might swing and ruin Dave’s stupidly pretty face. Dave sees the fury in Lars's eyes, and he doesn't back down, even as he braces for the impending punch. Instead, he sneers, "Hit me. I dare you."

“You really asking for it?” Lars asks, his arm tensing as he draws it back in preparation to smack that smug look off Dave’s face. The ginger holds his ground, the smirk on his lips refusing to waver. “Come on. Do it. Show your fragile little ego at its finest.”

Lars’ lips twist into a snarl, and he really just might knock Dave silly. Dave's heart thumps in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He braces for the impact, knowing better than to back down now.

"What's the matter, fairy? Can't handle a little challenge?"

And Lars’ fist meets the side of his face. It’s a lot stronger than he expected, but he’s felt worse.

The blow lands hard, Dave's head snapping to the side with the force. He stumbles a couple steps back, hand coming up to his cheek instinctively.

"Is that all you've got?" Dave sneers, spitting out a bit of blood from where his teeth had dug into his lip.

The tension-filled couple of days leading up to their conflict had built up to this very moment—Lars and Dave moved from throwing words to punches. As the anger and tension between the two reached its boiling point, words turned into blows, and the fight escalated.

Dave lunged at Lars, throwing another punch aimed at his face. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed in the air as he made contact, his knuckles aching from the impact. 

Lars’ head snaps to the side, and his skin is quick to redden, showing off the force of Dave’s fist with his cheekbone. He’s sure there’s a bruise forming as he turns back to face Dave, and he reaches for Dave’s longer hair to yank at.

Dave lets out a pained cry as Lars grabbed a fistful of his hair. Instinctively, he reaches up to grab hold of Lars's hand, trying to free his hair from the other man's ruthless grip.

"You're a real cocksucker, you know that?" Dave grits out through clenched teeth, his eyes filled with uncensored rage. He reached out, remembering the one move that made Lars drop anything he was doing.

He reached forward and roughly pinched his nipples, hard.

Lars automatically released his grip on Dave’s hair, letting out a half-yelp-half-moan.

Dave couldn't help but smirk as Lars released his hair, feeling a rush of triumph at the sound that escapes the man's lips. It's the reaction he was looking for, and he leans in with a taunting edge to his voice.

"You still whimper like a girl when I do that, huh?"

Lars’ face was red in embarrassment and anger—Dave always played dirty.

Dave's smirk grew wider as he saw the redness on Lars's face—it was a combination of embarrassment and anger, a reaction he had grown all too familiar with.

"Still can't handle a little pinch, huh?" Dave teases, his voice dripping with condescension.

He considers his options, and he has nothing else to loose, so in a swift motion, Lars grabs Dave’s hair in an iron grip and smashes their lips together.

Dave lets out a surprised noise as Lars grips his hair and pulls him into a rough, bruising kiss. The shock only lasts a moment, though, and then he's responding in kind, meeting Lars's aggression with his own hunger.

Their mouths mash together, all teeth and raw aggression. It's hard to tell who's in control, who's dominating this kiss, but one thing's for sure—there's no lack of passion, no lack of intensity.

Dave claws at Lars’ shirt, blunt nails raising red lines across the skin of his back. Lars has a tight hold on Dave’s hair, keeping him against his mouth. Being a little cunt, he even bites down hard on Dave’s tongue, sending tiny tears into Dave’s eyes.

Dave can't help but wince as Lars bites down hard on his tongue, the sharp pain drawing out a grunt of protest. But he doesn't pull away, doesn't back down, instead he responds with a tug on Lars's bottom lip, his teeth sinking in harder.

He's clawing at the fabric of Lars's shirt, his nails leaving red lines on the skin of the man's back. The heat between them is almost palpable, raw and fierce.

Lars pulls away for a moment—his lips are red and saliva-slick, but he doesn’t care. Dave backs him into a wall, larger frame looking over him as he feels the ginger bite and suck at his skin with as much vigour as a rabid dog.

Dave has Lars in a firm, almost possessive grip, his lean figure caging the shorter man against the hard surface. He's biting and sucking at Lars's skin with a voracious passion, the taste of the man's flesh and the feel of it beneath his teeth driving him wild.

He's pressing closer, every line of their bodies melded together. Lars might try to dominate, but Dave has something to prove.

Lars groans, his fingers wrapping around Dave’s neck. Not enough to cut off airflow, but to send a message.

Dave can feel the tight grip around his neck, Lars's fingers encircling his flesh in a gesture that's both sensual and commanding. He responds with a guttural noise, both a protest and a thrill.

The pressure against his throat stirs something primal in him, a need for control, but also a hint of excitement. He responds by pressing down against Lars, grinding his body against his, their hips aligned, their muscles taut.

Lars moans, his thumbs caressing the sides of Dave’s neck, pressing down on his carotid arteries. It’s enough o make Dave’s head spin hazily and for his aching hardness to increase.

Dave's skin tingles at the touch of Lars's thumbs along the sides of his neck, a moan escaping his lips as the pressure increases. His head feels light, and he can feel his body responding to the touch, heat pooling in his groin and a dizzying rush of sensation coursing through him.

"You little prick," he grits out, the words low and ragged, "You're playing dirty."

“You’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?” He drawls, taking advantage of Dave’s closeness to grind his teeth down on Dave’s lower lip.

"Can't help it you like it dirty,” Dave retorts, his voice a low growl. The bite on his lip makes his breath catch in his throat, a jolt of pleasure mixed with pain running through him.

He tightens his grip on Lars, pulling the man even closer—their bodies are flush, the heat between them almost overwhelming. He responds by retaliating with equal enthusiasm, his hand moving down to palming the growing tent in Lars’ jeans.

Lars sucks in a breath, the brunette pressing a little bit harder on Dave’s throat.

Dave feels the squeeze on his throat intensifies, drawing out a gasp from his lips. The lack of oxygen is doing something to his brain, making him delirious with need. His hips jerks forward, seeking friction.

He can't take his eyes off Lars, the look in the man's eyes that's both dangerous and arousing. "Keep that up, and I'll make you beg like a dog."

“I can choke you out.” Lars drawls, and the threat sounds pathetic. 

Dave lets out an annoyed huff, trying to ignore the arousal the words provoke, the image they paint in his mind. "You can try.”

Lars sneers, and Dave moved them away from the wall over to a nearby table—the door is locked and the room is safely isolated from anyone else. Dave slams Lars’ chest down on the table, making him bend at the hips.

There's a fierce look in Dave's eye as he stands behind Lars, hands roughly grabbing his hips to hold him in place.

Lars winced as his chest hit the table, and he feels a strong hand pin his neck down flat, another undoing his fly with practised ease. Dave takes a moment to admire the sight of Lars bent over the table, pinned beneath his grip. His fingers move nimbly, working on the button and zipper of the man's jeans.

"You've really pushed my buttons," he mutters, his voice thick with irritation and desire.

“Boo Hoo.” Lars bites back, looking up at Dave through the corner of his eye. "Don't get smart, you little piece of shit." Dave responds, digging his nails cruelly into the flesh of Lars's hips. "You brought this on yourself."

“You gonna shut up and fuck me or are your panties still in a twist?” Lars snarks, unflinching at the bite of Dave’s nails.

The taunt sparks a flare of annoyance in Dave, as if Lars's words were an extra push on a sensitive nerve.

"Watch your mouth," he warns, delivering a sharp slap across Lars's bare ass. "I'm not taking your smart-ass attitude, got it?" Lars moans, enjoying the sting that came with the smack. The ginger hated Lars with a passion, but god did he love taming that stupid little brat.

Dave can see the effect his slap has on Lars, the way he moans and arches his back slightly. Dave knows it's a dangerous game they're playing, the line between pain and pleasure is razor thin, but the fact that he can get under Lars's skin like this is too good to pass up.

His hand comes down again, this time with more force, making the sound echo loudly in the small, secluded room.

Lars groans louder, and he turns his head back, needing to egg Dave on to fuck him with another statement. “Course’ you know how to smack someone—bet you do it all the time with Junior..” 

Dave's face twists in annoyance. Lars's mention of Junior is a low blow, and it hits the target. The man isn't playing fair, but Dave isn't above dirty tricks himself.

"You know how to push my buttons," he growls, leaning down so that he's close to Lars's ear. His teeth graze the flesh of Lars's earlobe as he speaks. "Don’t fuckin’ say his name ever again."

There's a possessive edge to his voice, a hint of a threat behind his words. Dave won't stand for talk of his precious bassist, Junior, in their moments together. It's a line he won't allow Lars to cross.

Despite giving the warning, Dave doesn't want to focus on that right now, he's already pushed to the limit of his patience and there's something else that needs his attention. His hands grab at the waist of Lars's jeans, tugging them roughly further down to his ankles.

A tingle of excitement shoots up Lars’ spine, and he feels Dave’s hands move off him. Dave takes a moment to admire the sight of Lars, half-undressed and bent over the table waiting for him. He reaches for the bottle of lube he keeps in his pocket, opening it up with a snap.

"Lift your hips a little higher," he instructs, his voice rough. 

“Make me.”

Dave's nostrils flare at Lars's defiant tone. The little brat is trying his patience, but he can't deny that his defiance only makes him more eager to take him down a peg.

"You're really asking for it, aren't you," he retorts, his hands moving to grasp Lars's hips, pushing up on them so that his ass is angled up. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that? Should do you raw for that.."

Lars considers holding back on the snark—he’d rather not be bleeding from his ass the next few days. But he knows Dave isn’t that cruel…he thinks. The older man has a hand on his hips, bruisingly tight in his vice grip. 

Dave can feel the tension between them crackling in the air. He's on the edge, and the thought of taking Lars rough and unprepared is a temptation. But he knows where the line is, knows not to cross it.

"You think I won't do it, don't you" He mutters, challenging tone in his voice.

“You won’t.” Lars says so superbly smug.

Dave growls, the stubbornness in Lars's voice fueling his annoyance. "You're sure of yourself, aren't you? You think you know me so well?” He’s determined to prove Lars wrong, so he takes it upon himself to do the bare minimum, to make sure it hurt.

There's a pause as Dave uncaps the bottle of lube, squeezing a generous amount onto his hand, slicking up his cock. He’s not going to be nice, not a single bit.

Dave lines himself up with Lars. The Dane pauses. “Hey, wait—“

"What, have you changed your mind now?" Dave taunts, his hands still on Lars's hips, holding him in place. He doesn’t wait for Lars before he’s pushing in.

A squeal of pain escapes Lars, his eyes blown wide. He’s not prepped, so the discomfort increases tenfold. 

Dave cruelly snaps his hips forward into Lars, fisting his brown waves and forcing his head up. Lars, ever a slut for pain, moans and whimpers pathetically. 

“Stop—slow down!” Lars protests. Dave leans down to growl in Lars’ ear, “You ask me to stop like you hate it. I know you’re a fucking slut for pain, you masochist.” 

Lars’ cheeks and ass burn, one from embarrassment and the other from the stretch. The derogatory words somehow arouse him even further, the burning in his loins spiking, electric currents snaking up his spine.

Dave’s violently rutting into Lars like his life depended on it, ruthlessly hitting the younger man’s prostate dead-on. The burning stretch in his hole and the jolts of pleasure mix together in a mind-melting combination, and Lars can’t help but whine whorishly. 

Drilling into him with such vigour, Dave knows his thighs will be sore tomorrow, but he doesn’t really care. All that matters is fucking Lars till he can’t walk and leaving him like that. 

Maybe it’d teach him a lesson on being a cunt.

Dave’s hand lets go of Lars’ hair and moves to wrap his rough hand around the small expanse of Lars’ throat. The bastard whines when Dave pressed down on his carotids, lack of blood flowing to his brain doubling the pleasure he was drowning in.

Dave uses his neck as a small leverage as he brutally pistons his hips, his girthy cock splitting Lars into two. Dave grunts into Lars’ ear, his nails biting into the delicate skin of the Dane’s neck, littered with hickeys and rough bites. 

“Do you whore yourself out to anyone who’ll take you? I’m sure James has fucked you at least once, Kirk definitely does, and maybe that Jason kid too. You this much of a slut for all of ‘em?” Dave mocks, hand squeezing tighter around Lars’ neck. 

He thinks that his neck might snap, but his mind is going fuzzy and his vision is blurring out every few seconds. Somehow, the intense choking makes his orgasm crash down on him like bricks, splattering the concrete a milky white as his own vision fades to black.

The shorter man seizes around Dave every few seconds, the ginger’s climax building as his balls draw tight. With the consistent fluttering of Lars around him, Dave tightens his hold, and shoots his load deep in the confines of Lars’ ass. 

He stands there, hunched over the younger man for a few seconds. Then he pulls out and releases Lars, wiping the come off his cock onto the boy’s shirt. He tucks himself back into his pants and zips himself up, leaving an unconscious Lars bent over and used on the table, come dripping down his thighs, walking out the room, whistling, as if that never happened. 

knight jason n princess james that have been living in my brain for a while now.

so I’m taking a little break

just for a little while maybe until about end of January (to catch up on requests and other stuff on my writing) but I’ll be back before February :)

thanks for all your support and stuff i love you guys a lot 🗣️🙏🙏

expect 4 or more fics to be published when I’m back :))

thanks for the tag @madamsixx

mary jane - megadeth

tagging: @h3ll0k1ttyl0v3rrr @dethtallica @thenaughtynun @ju1ian @ride-the-hammett @hiamnoal

ATTENTION

If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 - 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝

warnings: laced drugs, sex pollen, anal sex, hand job(s), overstimulation

nsfw under the cut :)

Kirk wiped his irritated nose—Lars gotten him some coke, and from the way his body was heating up further with each line he did, it was getting more and more clear it had been laced with something extra. He made a mental note to never ask Lars for blow again.

He abandoned the last line, left unfinished, and flopped onto his bed. He felt like he was on fire, skin a furnace and radiating heat. There was that stifling feeling in his jeans as well, his dick throbbing incessantly in his boxers to the beat of his heart.

Jesus, what was in that thing? Kirk unzipped his fly, spitting in his hand and slicking himself up. He fisted his cock, hand sliding up and down his length with haste like it was the last time he’d jerk off. There was the familiar pull at his abdomen, his balls growing tight as he reached his peak. 

And yet, even when he came over his chest, spilling over his fingers, the gnawing ache didn’t go away. It ate at him, and his cock got hard again at an alarming speed. This wasn’t good—they were due at soundcheck in less than three hours, and it was unlikely that the insatiable feelings he was having were going to go away so soon. 

The groupies won’t be available yet, and he doubts any random woman will want to hook up with him—he’s startled out of his thoughts when there’s a loud knock from the door. Quick to tuck himself back into his pants and hastily wiping himself clean, he calls out. “One minute!” When he’s finally presentable enough, he opens the door and peeks through the crack in it. 

“Yeah?” He asks, sniffling. Outside stands Jason, eyebrow raised as if he knew exactly what Kirk had been doing. “We’re heading for soundcheck in 2 hours.” Kirk wipes his nose, making sure there was no white residue left. Any rational thinking is thrown out the window as he reaches for Jason’s arm and pulls him in. 

Jason is taken by surprise, now standing with Kirk’s body flush against his. “Are you okay?” He asks, hand feeling up Kirk’s forehead. It’s near scorching and Jason swiftly pulls his hand back.

“You’re heating up. Do you have a fever?” Concerns swirls in the depths of his grey-blue eyes, and Kirk tiptoes, grinding his erection against Jason’s crotch. “Don’t know—I think my coke has something in it...” He pants out, pulling Jason close. “Has what in it?” He queries, feeling Kirk’s neck, just as hot as his forehead. 

“Don’t know, don’t fucking care. I need you. Now. Please.” Jason furrows his eyebrows in worry, but complies, letting Kirk push him down onto his bed and shove his shirt up, straddling his hips while grinding atop him. “Are you sure about this—“ “Shut up.” The auburn haired man groans, his dick stirring in his pants. 

Kirk grinds against him like a man crazed, face flush from how needy he was. He needed his dick in something—anything, and Jason was so conveniently there to satisfy his urges. Kirk grinds, precome soaking the fabric of his drawls. Jason’s hands rest on his hips, face scrunched up at the friction. 

Impatient and unsatisfied with just grinding, Kirk moves to undo his fly and peel off his skinny jeans. He tugs off Jason’s slightly baggier jeans with ease, boxers along with it. Wasting no time to lube up his fingers and feed them knuckle-deep to Jason, Kirk slots another in and scissors them. Jason merely takes it pliantly, seeing how desperate he was. 

“Fuck…Kirk-“ He hissed as he’s hurriedly fed a third, there’s a bite from the stretch underneath the pleasure. Kirk pumps his fingers a little more for good measure, before they’re pulled out and wiped on his sheets. His lubed up cock prods against Jason’s hole, before pushing past and rocking into the younger man slowly. 

His speed builds up as Jason grows a little accustomed to it, and soon he’s thrusting into him like a rabbit, body hunched over and gripping Jason’s spread legs. Jason fists the sheets as Kirk fucks into him, gasping as his prostate is assaulted with each hungry jerk of his hips. It’s the perfect mix of rough and fast that has him keening, no doubt that someone would hear them from next door, alongside the slamming of the bedframe against the wall.

Jason’s back jolts into an involuntary arch off the bed. He can feel his orgasm impending with the pressure coiled around his loins, like a spring soon to snap. The sound of skin against skin echoes around the room, accompanied by Jason’s high-pitched whines and Kirk’s loud groans. Jason finally snaps and clenched tight around Kirk whilecoming over his stomach, his cock twitching weakly. Kirk doesn’t stop, because he can’t. If he did, he might just die from how utterly aroused he was.

The older man doesn’t stop his brutal pace, and Jason flutters around him, his prostate getting oversensitive. He bites back a whimper as Kirk dips his head forward, rutting into him like a bitch in heat. The overstimulation is getting a lot more intense, and Jason squeezes his eyes shut. It feels good, but there’s an almost painful edge to the constant assault on his g-spot. 

But the pleasure outweighs the discomfort, and he finds himself on the edge of another orgasm soon. Kirk can feel the tight, warm heat of Jason still clenching weakly around him, and from the way his cock blurts precome it’s clear he’s going to come again. That’s further proved when Jason grows tighter around him, his shaft pulsing. Jason babbles as Kirk slams his hips into him at such a furious speed that his mind span.

Kirk kindly spits in his hand and starts to jerk Jason off, less than two strokes in and Jason comes again with a loud moan. Only after the second time he’s come does Kirk feel the pulling at his belly, low and warm. His movements get sloppy and he chases his orgasm down. The familiar tug at his balls is getting more prominent. 

His orgasm is starting to grow closer, and Jason’s so overstimulated that he cries as he comes a third time so pathetically, dribbling down the upside of his shaft into the puddle on his stomach. Kirk throws his head back again, he’s so damn close. Jason’s incessant clenching about him finally has him spilling into Jason, hips stuttering to a stop. 

He pants, propping himself up on his hands as he stays in Jason, not wanting to pull out just yet to preserve the warmth. Jason wiped his own tears, sniffling just like Kirk had been. Kirk does the very least to kiss away his tears to soothe him, caressing his face.

“Fuck.” Was all Jason said, breaths hiccuping. “I’m sorry—did I hurt you?” Kirk asks gently, noticing how the pull at his dick ebbed away. “I’m-I’m fine,” Jason says shakily, his cock oversensitive and his hole getting sore, “Just a bit sore.”

Kirk pulls out and gets one of his shirts to clean up the mess on Jason’s abdomen and around his ass. Jason sat up and immediately winced, the soreness kicking in quick after a good fucking. Yeah, that show was going to be a pain in the ass, quite literally. 

“Did you like the coke?” Lars casually asked Kirk in their tour bus. James glanced over momentarily, uninterested. “What the hell was in that thing?” Kirk grumbled, still a little upset at the fact that he couldn’t get a good high. “Just some strong aphrodisiacs. How’d you get it outta your system? Groupie?” Kirk shifted in his seat slightly. James looks over, now interested. 

“Is that why Jase was limping just now?” He mentions with a raised eyebrow. Lars looks over at Kirk, surprised. “I assumed he had a bad time with a groupie or something. You sure did a number on him, lucky bastard.” The Dane nudges him with a smirk. “I don’t think Jase liked it very much after.” Muttered Kirk,  averting his gaze from Jason, who glared at Lars, lying on his side opposite on the couch. 

“Don’t ever do that again you bastard.” Jason mutters, flipping Lars off. “You better have painkillers, or your ass is mine.” Lars stuck out his tongue cheekily, “Well…not a bad proposition…”

I’ve been so busy brah I’ve neglected this account💔 I’m sorry chat I promise I’ll post real soon

jason, if you even care.