Cats I Think The Metalliguys Would Be

Submitted by Anon

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 :))

mood rn

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. 

hear me out

dilf jason…90s james…say gex…

i mean dirty sweaty disgustingly down bad sex

ok thanks for listening to my Ted talk

edit: you’re all freaks. i love it. i’ll add a link once I’m done writing this

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

Sorry..

Shitposting because I don’t have a life

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…”