Latest Posts by n3wstxd - Page 3

jason, if you even care.

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

Submitted by Anon

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊/𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 - 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

warnings: anal sex, riding, getting caught, getting blue balled

I’ve been putting off posting this for the longest time so here you go

nsfw under the cut :)

Kirk leaned against the couch, condensation dripping onto his pants from the beer in his hand. Usually, he’d care to sit it down on the coffee table, but right now his eyes were fixed on the Dane in front of him, bent over and rummaging through a pile of old VHS tapes. 

“We got ‘The Thing’? Or do you wanna watch ‘Dracula’ first?” Lars called from the pile. Kirk shrugged—not like Lars could see him do it. 

“Anything. It’s not like I haven’t watched them a million times.” 

Kirk can practically feel Lars roll his eyes. “‘The Thing’ it is.” And when Lars stands again, Kirk almost frowns at the loss. He settled into the seat next to Kirk after slipping the tape in, and he switched the lights off. 

Kirk soon enough forgot about Lars’ ass, and focuses on the film, mindlessly absorbed into the film, fingers oily from popcorn. Lars, unfortunately for Kirk, seemed like he had to give his opinion on everything that the characters did in the movie. 

“He’s not having a heart attack, dumbass! He’s obviously the thing!” Lars raised an arm and pointed at the screen agitatedly. This is why Kirk watched movies with Cliff, not the Dane. 

When Copper used the defibrillator on Norris the second time, his arms plunged into the mouth cavity of Norris’ metamorphosised body. Lars cried out again. 

“I told you! Told you he was! Ain’t that right?” Kirk sighed internally. “Yeah, man.” Lars muttered more bullshit about how he predicted everything, thinking he was some sort of clairvoyant. Kirk had seen the movie a million times, and from day one even he knew what was going to happen, but it seemed that Lars prided himself on having basic common sense.

Three beers down and watching the next few movies, Lars is spewing nonsense again—one more beer and he’d sound like a conspiracy theorist. Kirk would ask him to shut up, but he’s well past caring, his alcohol-addled mind choosing to muffle out Lars’ incessant yapping.

When Lars finally shuts up, Kirk doesn’t register. He’s enthralled by the movie when he hears Lars’ voice right by his ear. “Kirk.” The Filipino startles, popcorn jostling in his bowl. “Shit, what?” He asked, leaning away from him. 

“I’ve been calling you for like…this long.” Lars holds his arms out like a child in his inebriated state. “Whaddya want?” Kirk groans, rubbing his strained eyes. The Dane tilts his head like a curious dog, only lit by the blueish light from the TV. “I’m horny.” 

Kirk sputters. “Seriously?” His face flushed further, avoiding eye contact with him, eyes glued to the screen. Lars hummed in response, fingers trailing up Kirk’s thigh tentatively. He shivered, grasping Lars’ wrist. “Cant we just watch this..?” he slurs, but Lars insists on bothering him further by resting a hand on his chest, staring up at him with half-lidded eyes. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of Lars’ drunken grin, both of them drunk. Kirk barely retained any of his sobriety. 

“Please..?” Lars whispers, leaning in close with his breath ghosting against the shell of Kirk’s ear. It’s too hard to resist, to say no, and his decisions are influenced by the alcohol—so he lets Lars crawl on top of him, cling to him like glue and latch on with his lecherous teeth. 

The movie now plays forgotten in the background, the eerie horror now white noise. Lars lets his hands roam over Kirk’s tanned skin, warm against his cold hands. Goosebumps trail in his wake, skin pulling taut and hairs standing to attention. He’s like a vampire, lips attached to Kirk’s neck. He bites and sucks and laps over his skin greedily, making the older man squirm. Kirk’s hands rest on Lars’ narrow hips, cock already twitching in his boxers. 

Lars grinds against him, a strangled moan escaping his parted lips as he throws his head back. Kirk bucks his hips upwards, chasing the delicious friction. His fingers dig into the cool flesh of Lars’ waist under his shirt. 

Lars soon stops his grinding, and Kirk whines at the loss. But it’s all worth it because Lars shoves his pants down and tugs Kirk’s shorts off, hips hovering above Kirk’s erection. Maybe Lars had planned this, because the sneaky fuck had lube in his bag. He lubed up his own fingers and loosely stretched himself out, before slicking up Kirk and sinking down. 

Kirk chokes on his saliva—Lars wasted no time bouncing up and down on his cock like he was made for it. Jesus, either he loved the stretch or he had no feeling down there. Kirk’s hands rested on his hips again, following his movements with eagerness. 

“Fuck, Lars—Jesus, slow down..” Kirk drawled out, trying to keep up with the younger man. “I’m horny,” Lars repeats with a gasp, moaning out like a pornstar. Kirk was used to Lars’ already unusually high libido, but when he was drunk was a whole thing. “God—so good…thick fuckin cock.” Lars praises, the words going straight to Kirk’s head. 

“Fuck, you’re good..” He babbles on, spewing praises like Kirk’s the messiah. Kirk tips his head back, breathy whines escaping his lips. His hips buck upwards, meeting Lars halfway so that his cockhead brushes against Lars’ prostate maddeningly. 

Lars can feel his orgasm building up quick, with the way his cock pulses in sync with his heartbeat, standing tall and blurting precome. Kirk slams Lars’ hips down, and Lars grips his shoulders to hang on for the ride. Kirk screws his eyes shut and moves Lars’ hips up and down faster.

Lars moans, loud, and Kirk relishes in the sweet sounds. He wanted to hear more, see what else he could draw out of him. They’re both soon to reach their climax.

Until.

The clattering of keys and heavy-booted footsteps can be heard coming in fast from down the hallway, and the two freeze. 

They sober up in an instant, and Lars tries to pull off Kirk’s cock but there’s no time. They’re too late—the door opens, and James’ voice can be heard. 

“Hey guys—oh my god!”

Kirk and Lars share the same horrified expression—like they’d witnessed a murder. But nothing can beat the look on James’ face. James sounds and looks disgusted, covering his eyes like a child. Cliff is behind him, and he merely shakes his head like a disappointed parent. 

Kirk could feel the pressure in his gut immediately dissipate. Lars as well, both so close to a satisfying end, only to be stopped. 

“Yeah, I’m gone.” James gags, stumbling out the room dramatically. Cliff watches him for a second before turning back to them. He speaks like a parent chastising his children.

“Lock the door next time.” 

When Lars and Kirk are finally alone, their desires melted away, it’s awkward. So awkward, now that they’re thinking more clearly. Lars shifts uncomfortably on Kirk’s lap.

“Wow. They just blue balled us. What the hell!” He groaned, pulling himself off Kirk’s now flaccid dick. His own has softened, and he tosses Kirk’s pants to him while pulling his own up. What a way to have their night ruined. 

They would remind themselves to walk in on Cliff and James on purpose next time.

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. 

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

i love the foursome or whatever that metallica song is called

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

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐄𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

warnings: anal sex, anal fingering, blow job(s), gunplay, threats of violence,

nsfw under the cut :)

Dave was stirred from his sleep by soft footsteps. He glances at the clock—2 AM it reads. Oh, bother. He instinctively falls back into the sheets, thinking it to be his mother doing something random at an ungodly hour. Just as he was halfway through going back to sleep, his breath catches in his throat.

He lives alone.

Immediately, he sobers up and he stiffens. There’s footsteps ringing through his house, and he lives alone. Shit. Did he leave his door unlocked? No, he triple-checked and double locked the door. Window? All locked as well. Shit. This has to be a break-in. He can hear the intruder’s soft scuffling. His dog’s not there to scare away the intruder, and Dave finds himself lacking any phones nearby, just his trusty glock. Was this the guy that’s been robbing houses in his area? Fuck.

Dave takes the weapon and slides it under the sheets. Tension coiled in his heart, his head pounding with each thump of his heart, adrenaline spiking his form. He cocks the gun, safety flicked off. The assailant’s outside his door now, and he ducks under the sheets, feigning sleep as he grips his gun tight.

The door creaks open, and Dave can hear his own breathing, louder than everything and anything in this room. His eyes flutter shut, and he can sense the person. They’re close. Sneaking to his side of the bed, by his nightstand. The bastard opens his drawer, tentatively looking at Dave to measure how much of a deep sleeper he was. No reaction Dave gave, a statue in his bed.

The intruder rummaged through his nightstand drawer. Took out photos, resting them uninterestedly on the side. Ignored his car keys and stashes of drugs. Tutting, even. Rude..

Dave shifts and sits up—the robber turns, met with the head of Dave’s glock to the forehead. The person’s eyes widen in recognition—his own weapon mistakenly left on the ground a meter away. Dave stared down at the intruder, inclined to pull the trigger.

“Well.” Dave mutters, relishing in the fear that sparks in the bright blue of the intruder’s eyes. He smirks, the person just where he wanted him. He presses the gun harshly into the robber’s forehead, enough that the person’s head tilts back a little, frozen in shock and fear. Now it’s the man’s turn for the adrenaline to pump. Now it’s his turn to feel like the cornered rabbit.

“Never thought I’d get robbed. Silly me.”

He says mockingly to the intruder. The man doesn’t respond. Merely sits there on his knees like a fearful dog, power stripped the moment Dave brought the gun up to his head. Dave revelled in rush that it brought, smirk settling on his features.

“You’re that guy that’s been breaking into people’s homes, right? Nod.”

The robber hesitates, blue eyes flickering with apprehension. He nods.

“Take that stupid thing off.”

Dave all but commands, gun still firm against his head, moving back a little so the intruder could take his black balaclava off. Dave’s breath caught in his throat as the intruder’s face is revealed. Hazel eyes narrow, and the gun roughly pressed against the man’s temple. He bares his teeth like a savage dog, lip curling up as he eyed the blue-eyed blondie he had come to loathe.

“Oh my fuckin god… Well, if it isn’t the mighty ol’ Hetfield. God, I should blast your brains out for this.” Dave croons, dragging the man forward by the collar. James winced at the cold steel against the side of his skull, digging into his skin.

“Shit—I didn’t know you-“

“Save the excuses, Hetfield. Gimme a good reason as to why I shouldn’t split your skull open right now. It’s low to rob, but to try and rob me? Fuckin’ Christ.” Dave muses, tutting as he shook his head like a disappointed parent. Grinning wildly with his pearly whites peaking through peachy lips.

“Listen, Dave, I didn’t know you lived here—it’s not my fault I don’t keep tabs on you.” James tried his best not to stutter under the stress.

Dave sneers, it’s oh so familiar to James. 

“Blame yourself for being a thief. Four homes already, James. Aren’t you supposed to be in San Fran with your wonderband? Wonder what your buddies at Metallica would think… When the police get to you, oh, that’d be hilarious. That is, if I don’t make a crime scene of you.”

Dave isn’t good natured in basis, and neither is he on cordial terms at all with James, so Hetfield is royally screwed. Just as Metallica was finally making it big-time with Master of Puppets. Pulling this stupid cash-grab stunt would ruin everything he and Lars had worked so hard to build. As much as he knows he’s a petty thief, he knows that Dave has the same, if not more, crimes under his belt than himself.

“Listen, just let me go, don’t tell anyone, and I’ll make it up to you.” James hates how pleading his tone is, how pathetic he looks on his knees in front of David fucking Mustaine of all people. “Please.”

Dave’s face shifts to thoughtfulness, the same conniving smirk returning to his stupid face. He had something in mind, that much was for sure.“Make it up to me how?”

James hesitated. “Any way.”

Dave grins down at him. “What do you think is a suitable compensation?” Fucker was making James spell out what they both had in mind, and it was making James’ pride crack each second that passed. Fuck this cocky, egomaniacal ginger.

“I…” James began, swallowing thickly. “I could blow you.”

James cringed internally as soon as the words left his lips. Dave’s eyebrow quirked in interest. Wouldn’t have been the first time James had to compensate Dave with a blowjob. Dave feigned being deep in thought, unable to wipe his stupid shit-eating grin off his face.

“You better show me a good time.”He says half-jokingly, a serious threatening undertone to his words. His hazel eyes scan James’ face, before he pulls his gun away slightly, keeping it in his hand. James knows he isn’t playing around, and even if he was, wouldn’t want to risk being arrested or worse. 

He’d rather sacrifice his dignity than die at the hands of his enemy.

Mustaine shifts to the edge of the bed, smugly watching James get to work. Quick to slide Dave’s boxers down, the ginger was already semi-hard and working to a full erection. Did he get off to James’ fear? Or maybe his pathetic pleading? Damn pervert…

James still remembers what Dave’s cock looks like even after what, 3 years? Beautiful rosy head, a prominent vein on the left, soft and slightly trimmed strawberry blonde curls nestled above his flush shaft. James peels off his gloves, curling his fingers around Dave’s now raging hard-on. James could feel the thick veins pulsing on the underside of his shaft, precome pearling at the head as he gave him a firm, languorous stroke. The skin of his dick was silky, soft and flaming hot against James’ cool palm.

Dave shuddered an exhale, hands propping his form up as he leaned back slightly to rest on his wrists. He watched the blonde through devious hazel eyes, swirling with lust and pride. It’s been far too long since he’s had anyone touch his dick, and to have his old flame on his knees? It almost made Dave laugh if not for the electric currents snaking up his loins like a serpent of pleasure.

James’ thumb circled around his slit, spreading his precome around, remembering how the movement used to make Dave’s eyes roll back and his breath die out. It seemed to still have the same effect, the ginger hissing as James’ finger thumbed his slit. James glanced up at the ginger, whose eyes watched him through heavy eyelids, biting down on his lip. ‘Pretty,’ Hetfield thinks to himself as he shuffled closer, leaning in to wrap his lips around Dave’s thick cock.

The inviting warmth of James’ mouth has Dave reeling, oh so familiar and yet a distant memory, a shadow of their past together. His hand settles to tightly grip those messy curls as James hollows his cheeks and bobs up and down, able to take him to the hilt with practiced ease. James groans as the shaft hits past his throat, Dave shudders at the vibrations, pleasure tingling his spine.

“That’s it…fuuuck..”

He doesn’t forget about the gun in his hand, and when James starts to slow down to a torturous pace to poke fun at the ginger, he’s quick to point it to his temple again. He knows Dave won’t shoot since he’s getting to embarrass James out of this as well as getting blown, but his little power-play of theirs has James’ cock stiflingly hard. That, paired with Dave ordering him to stop his teasing, has him nearly coming in his jeans.

The cold metal reminds James to pick up his pace, and he does, cupping Dave’s hefty balls while at it. Dave’s breath stutters, his grip on the gun falters. His one weakness, being fondled like that. A soft groan slips past his lips and that motivates James to bob his head up and down faster, tonguing the base of his cock. Dave pulls on James’ hair, cheeks now flush as roses, muffling his moans. James’ forgotten how many times he’s jerked off to Dave like that, all flush and sweaty with the image of himself choking on his cock. It’s his wet dreams come true.

“Shit…forgot how good you look sucking me off..”

James slots two fingers and a thumb at the base of Dave’s dick, jerking him off in the same pace as he’s bobbing his head, his fingers twisting in a way that has Dave seeing stars behind his closed eyelids. He mutters a string of “fuck”and “shit”, lips parted in pleasure, panting like a dog, soft whines escaping the confines of his throat. Saliva’s dripping down his chin, but James just hums. Dave’s nerve endings feel like they’re on fire with how good this all feels at the same time. He pulls James’ head to his hilt, revelling in the way James choked, it all felt so damn good.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—“

James can feel Dave’s balls strain, his cock thickening as it filled up, before the familiar feeling of Dave’s spend bursting down his throat returns. He swallows eagerly, choking here and there, massaging the ginger’s balls until the man hisses in overstimulation. James pulls off with a wet pop, licking the remaining spunk off his length. Giving a final kiss to Dave’s reddened and sensitive tip, James wiped the drool and come from his mouth and chin.

Dave looks out of breath and blissed, akin to a pornstar, only this was very real and very appealing. He smiled down languidly at James.

“Well,” Dave pants, catching his breath.

The blonde’s gaze roves over Dave, spent cock going limp, satisfied. But his own erection isn’t going away so soon, and he doesn’t think that Dave will reject an opportunity to get his brains fucked out like the good old times. He moves to unceremoniously slip Dave’s boxers off, the ginger raising an eyebrow.

“Can I?” James asks, lifting Dave’s thigh as the older man is pushed onto his forearms. Dave eyes the noticeable bulge in the blonde’s jeans. The ginger smirks. He knows that James could never resist the allure of getting ahold of Dave and fucking him senseless, even after their years of tension and enmity.

“You’ve always been such a hungry little slut for me, huh?” James felt the wind get knocked out of him. Dave’s filthy words, growled in his gravelly morning voice with that damn smirk, were going straight to his dick. It had been so long since James had told him that he was a slut for him. And it felt good to finally hear it once more.

“Lube.” He drawls, and Dave jabs his thumb towards his nightstand. James had skimmed past the large clear bottle, a little less than half used. No surprise a hot guy like Dave was still getting game after their messy break up, but it made James’s heart tug with uncharacteristic jealously.

Grasping one of Dave’s asscheeks, James spreads it wide. He slathers his fingers up, quick to prod and push past the tightly furled ring of muscle that is Dave’s ass. Dave groans pleasurably as he’s fed James’ finger, and then another, knuckle deep in his heat. James set a steady rhythm, spreading and curling and scissoring his fingers in a way that had Dave keening. His breath hitched, and he’s half hard now, dick twitching eagerly.

“C’mon, open me up.” Dave breathes eagerly, hazel eyes hazy with lust.

Dave curses, elbows bending backwards as he fists his sheets, powerful thighs flexing with each brush against his prostrate. Fuck, Dave could probably come on James’ fingers alone at this rate. It was clear that nothing had even touched Dave’s pink little hole for a long time from his sheer tightness around James’ fingers. Somehow that made his cock throb more, twitching against its confines like a beast made to escape. Dave’s whines and soft groans only fed the fire burning in his core, molten lava in his loins.

“So fuckin’ tight for me, huh? Perfect little hole…” James mutters, and Dave moans obscenely at his words.

Finally withdrawing his fingers once Dave was deemed stretched out enough, Dave sighs, his hole fluttering as James pulled out his rock-hard cock. His tip is blurting precome, there’s a wet spot in his boxers. The younger sheds his clothes, tossing Dave’s shirt onto the mix of clothes on the ground. James shoves Dave’s sheets onto the ground, jerking off of his now slicked-up length. Dave bites his lower lip, eyes wanting.

“Don’t tease ‘n make me wait.” Dave mutters, spreading his legs as James chuckles raspily, throat still sore from throating him.

He glides his heavy cock against Dave’s perineum, the ginger shivers involuntarily, goosebumps prickling his skin. Fuck, he needed James buried in him right now or he’d get violent.

“Give it to me James,” Dave all but whines, James holds the back of Dave’s knees up, settling his ankles on his broad shoulders. He lines himself up with Dave’s lubed hole, tip rubbing against the ring of muscle teasingly. Dave scoffs, and James gives him a good slap on the thigh before the strawberry blonde is split open. Dave bites down a cry, James softly rocking his hips and working Dave open further. It felt like he was being torn apart, unused to the stretch that came with fucking someone as hung as James. It felt like their first time all over again, 5 years back in Lars’ garage, when James had popped Dave’s cherry at the height of their sexual tension and horniness.

“God, missed this fuckin’ pornstar cock…so big, never had someone as good as you.” Dave drawled, back stiffening as he’s stuffed full.

His cheeks burned as Dave’s obscene praise rung louder than it should’ve in his ears. His balls were now flush against Dave’s ass, and the short blond curls on his groin rubbed against Dave’s hot, slick skin. James felt the flutter of Dave’s hole around his dick, and it had James gripping Dave’s hips bruisingly. Dave looked his hottest like this, back bowed in ecstasy and his ass stuffed to the fullest it could be with James’ dick. James draped himself over Dave and grabbed at his chin gently, leaning in against his chest and tilting his head so that he could look into Dave’s eyes. James nuzzled Dave’s neck before drawling against his ear, “You like my cock so fuckin’ deep in your ass, yeah? You take me so good..”

Dave whines as each roll of James’ hips hastened, his eyes fluttering closed, his lashes fanned out and screwed in ecstasy. God, Dave missed this. Missed them—wait, nonono- He shoved those thoughts away when James’ crude moan broke the panting silence between them. Dave’s dick twitched at the sound, precome dripping from his cockhead. James sunk his teeth into Dave’s pale neck, biting down roughly. He released his hip in favour of jacking Dave off, whose hips bucked into James’ calloused hand like a fucktoy. “Fuckfuckfuck—“ Dave cried as James swirled the wetness on his tip, before giving him a few pumps and repeating. That pleasurably torturous cycle had Dave close to busting any second, squirming under James.

“Please—oh, fuck, James!”

James was hitting Dave’s sweet spot with each brutal and calculated roll of his hips. Dave’s prostate felt raw and swollen, and it took everything for him not to come right then. James gave him a particularly well-angled thrust, cock hitting his prostate dead on. His dick rubbed against it decadently as James withdrew, only to slam in and nail it again, right on the dot. It made Dave arch his back into a tight bow against James as the sparks spread up every nerve like he was lit up by lightning.

James’ dick felt like it was in heaven—Dave’s tight, enveloping heat was too welcoming, unlike any groupie or woman he’d fucked in the last few years. No one made him crazy with lust, as spellbound over a person like Dave did. The way he clenched around his dick with each jab at his g-spot, a goddamn dick guillotine.

“James—!” Dave sobbed a final time, tears in his eyes as his core tightening, his dick pulsing and balls seizing up as he came. James drew him in for a kiss—one that they hadn’t shared in a long time. It felt good. Almost as good as when thick white ropes painted the pale expanse of his chest after he came, James’ hand slowing its pumping. James still mercilessly rut like an animal into Dave like a cocksleeve until he finally came a few moments after. Dave felt James’ spend fill him up, hot and making his insides feel runny. James made a few final, languid thrusts into Dave, fucking his seed in. He lowered Dave’s legs and collapsed onto the older man, both breathing in synchronicity.

Dave wrapped his arms around James in an uncharacteristic hug. James reciprocated. They laid boneless in each other’s embrace for a few minutes, their steadying breaths the only sounds in the room, James softened, and turned his head up to meet Dave’s gaze. “Does that count as a good time?” Dave huffed reluctantly with a pout. “Yes. Consider yourself…redeemed.”

James huffed a laugh and pulled out, to which Dave winced. Getting a towel from Dave’s bathroom, he cleaned them both up before they lay on their sides, spooning while drawn close. Intimate. Too long had gone without this. Dave revelled in the warmth of James. Even if James might be gone in the morning, he’d take solace in the heat of the now.

“Hey…Dave?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t make me leave.” James was pleading, vulnerable. Dave’s heart softened.

“..I won’t. Not tonight.”

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐑/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

warnings: blindfolds, bondage, anal sex, begging kink, no prep

nsfw under the cut :)

A pair of cold hands caress the contours of Dave’s form. Goosebumps follow in their wake, his muscles shuddering. The hands are calloused and rough against Dave’s soft skin, and he exhaled softly. The heavy breath against his neck was a contrast to the hands, warm and gentle as a mother’s caress. 

He’s got his hands bound to the bedframe with some sort of soft material, his vision hindered by a blindfold. He has no choice to put complete trust in Junior, who seems to relish that. His lips brush gently against Dave’s ear, hands roaming his body adoringly. He traces Dave’s shape, outlining his abs and v-line. 

Junior’s breath ghosts from his neck, trailing down and down and down until the warmth right against Dave’s hardened length. He shifts, biting down on his lower lip.

Junior doesn’t speak—Dave doesn’t think he will. Junior wanted to keep Dave in the dark, keep him from knowing his next move, keep him on the edge. It stirred something more primal in him, got his cock achingly hard. 

Dave can only listen to the soft shuffling around in the room; there’s a tap on his hip, a sign for him to lift them. He does, and a pillow is placed under them. Strong hands part is thighs and hold onto his hips, Junior’s breath ghosting over his hole. He knows what’s coming, and his breath hitches. 

Junior decided that he couldn’t just immediately go and please Dave, the way the ginger was so accustomed to. No, he wanted to draw this out. Take his time until Dave was begging for it, till his name was the only thing left spilling out of his mouth.  

Dave can feel Junior lick a stripe across his inner thigh, cool against his warm skin. Junior takes a second to look at Dave, spread out on the bed, completely naked and helpless. His cheeks flush and he takes a deep breath to control himself.

“Junior..” Dave drawls, Junior reaches for the bedside table, grabbing a bottle of lube and squirting a generous amount on his palm. Junior lets the lube warm up for a second on his hand before reaching for one of Dave’s legs, spreading it to the side. Dave whines in anticipation, struggling against the confines of his handcuffs.

Junior looks at the ginger’s face, taking in all the emotions it expresses: impatience, eagerness, and anticipation, among other things. He starts to spread lube over Dave’s entrance, being careful and making sure it’s thoroughly lubed before he decides to do anything else. When he’s satisfied, he uses his other hand to spread the one he’d been using to lube Dave, spreading the ginger’s legs give himself a better view.

Dave squirms on the bed, and Junior thinks it’s a good time to have his leg cuffs bound to the bedframe as well. He reaches down and grabs the leather leg cuffs as well, fastening them to the bed frame. Dave is now spread completely open and immobile, at his mercy. Junior takes a step back and looks at Dave, admiring how good he looks like this.

He takes a second to take a deep breath in. The sight in front of him really is a sight to behold. Dave, spread out and helpless on the bed, desperate to be touched. He could get used to this.

Junior takes another minute to look over every part of Dave’s body, committing the image to memory for when they’re not together. When he’s satisfied, he moves back toward the bed and settles between Dave’s legs.

He looks up at Dave, taking in his face for a moment before he uses his hands to spread Dave’s legs further apart. Dave can only lay there and take it while Junior takes in the sight and adjusts himself so that he’s as close to him as he can manage.

He looks down at his own clothed body, and decides that something has to be done about that. He slides off the bed and quickly removes his own clothes, leaving them in a messy pile with Dave’s on the floor.

He gets back onto the bed and positions himself comfortably between Dave’s legs. When everything’s all settled, he looks up at him, looking at the blindfold. He can’t get enough of how Dave looks like this: helpless and at his mercy.

He reaches up to the blindfold and grips it in his hands. He looks at Dave’s face and thinks about taking it off, seeing the look in his eyes. But he decides to leave it on for now, knowing that it’ll drive the redhead even more crazy.

He looks at Dave and runs his hands up his stomach and chest. Dave has a surprisingly smooth and toned stomach. For someone who drinks as often as he does, he takes care of his body pretty well.

Junior continues to run his hands over Dave’s body, appreciating all of it. He’s already familiar with quite a lot of it from previous “sessions” together, but he can’t get enough of it. He’s got it all and it’s all spread out right in front of him, and he can’t help but admire it.

It’s a power trip, really. Having Dave like this right in front of him, all bound and unable to do anything unless Junior allows it. He’s completely at his mercy, and he knows it.

“Junior, please…” He notices how desperate Dave is getting, how much he wants to say something but can’t. It’s fun to tease him like this, but he himself is losing his self control too just by looking at Dave.

“Baby..” Dave pleads pathetically, pulling against the handcuffs. The pet name causes Junior to lose his last shred of self-control. He positions himself at Dave’s entrance and takes a deep breath in to try to calm himself down. He couldn’t be excited like he was a teenager again, no, he had to be calm. 

“Give it to me already, don’t make me wait.” The ginger is starting to get impatient, and he knows it was only a matter of time before he starting speaking his mind. He’s begging. And that just turns Junior on even more.

He slowly pushes his way into Dave without prep, and the moan that comes from the ginger’s mouth is like music to Junior’s ears. He takes a second to let himself adjust around his thickness before he fully pushes in, enjoying the way Dave twitches, his fingers curling and uncurling. “Shit…shit, oh fuck..”

Junior slowly begins to move his hips, watching the way Dave responds to every movement. His breathing becomes shallow and he whimpers, and if Junior wasn’t already achingly hard, he sure would’ve been now.

He continues pushing himself in and out of Dave, enjoying the way the ginger is clenching around him, and the way the ginger looks, so desperate, but unable to do anything. It’s a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. 

Junior glances at Dave, taking in the facial expression he has right now. His eyebrows are creased, his mouth open, and his head thrown back. He takes a second to take a deep breath, collecting himself. 

“God, baby—you’re so big…” Dave praises, and it goes straight to Junior’s loins. The sight and sounds the guitarist were making is almost too much to bear. Junior knows he won’t last long if he keeps this up, but he doesn’t mind. He’s not going to be the one dealing with the aftermath.

He decides to change pace, stopping and pulls himself completely out before slamming back into the ginger. Dave keens, his head thrown back around the pillows with his red hair spread around like a golden halo of fire.

Junior moans, the sound of Dave crying out making him even more aroused, if that’s even possible. He likes it when Dave doesn’t have any words left to say, when all he can do is make little sounds and try to find something to say, but failing.

“Fuuuck—“, He keeps up this fast and rough pace, unable to hold back any of his moans any longer. Dave is starting to whimper even more, and that’s not helping things.

Junior loves the way Dave is falling apart beneath him. He loves the way his words are starting to fail him, the way he can’t use them to ask for what he wants. Instead, he’s resorted to making sounds, words not even forming on his tongue at this point.

“Oh, shit—baby please…I’m gonna-“ Junior knows Dave’s on the edge, begging for something. Anything. Anything that would push him over the edge. It’s kind of adorable, how hard the ginger’s trying to hold back. Even his voice is all broken up and everything.

He notices how close Dave is getting: his words are all broken up, the way his body is squirming to try and get more, the desperate look on his face even though his eyes are blindfolded. He keeps his pace steady. Not too fast, but slow enough to keep Dave on the edge.

“Not yet you’re not, not until you ask nicely.”

Dave bites his lip. “Please, cmon, give it to me, baby—!” Junior smiles down at Dave. He loves how desperate the ginger is right now, just wanting to get off so badly.

“Say it again. Plead.” He drawls.

“Pleasepleaseplease—Junior..!” 

The sound of Dave practically sobbing out his pleas sends a shiver down Junior’ s spine. He’s going to give Dave what he wants, but not just yet. He’s so close, he wants to give in, but the allure of hearing him plead for release is too tantalising.

“One last time. Ask me nicely.”

“Please.”

He smirks, knowing that’s as nice of a “please” as he’s going to get from Dave at this point. Junior picks up his pace, determined to make the ginger come. He’s on the edge himself, but focused on the man right in front of him.

“I’m gonna come!”

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

The words are out of Junior’s mouth before he really thinks about them, but Dave listening to his command is such a turn on he doesn’t really care. Dave squeezes tight around him, spurts of come striping his chest white.

He can hear Dave moaning out his name as he finally comes, and the sound is enough to cause Junior’s own orgasm to hit him like a wave. His pace falters before pausing as he rides out his own orgasm, hips stilling. He rests his hands on the mattress, leaning forward.

“Fuck…that was good.” Dave breathes, the blindfold has smatters of wet spots—tears. 

Junior pants, the building strain in his muscles ebbing away.

“Let’s go again.” Dave whispers. Junior laughs breathlessly. 

“If that’s what you want..” He grins, a glint in his eye.

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…”

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. 

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 - 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲

warnings: drug usage, drinking to cope, first time(s), anal sex, sad sex

nsfw under the cut :)

Jason had drunk himself into a stupor. Both to forget the hazing from his bandmates and to numb the pain of being their punching bag, both metaphorically and physically.

That night’s show was a disaster in his eyes—his bass had mysteriously gone out during “My Friend of Misery”, preventing his beautiful bass solo from getting played. That, coupled with the fact that James and Lars nitpicked everything he did on stage after the show.

His eyes glazed over, slumped over on the couch as he thought. When he got drunk, he wasn’t boisterous like James, he wasn’t a gossiper like Lars or plain stupid like Kirk. He was quiet. Reserved. Lost in thought and sat to the side in thoughtful silence. 

Alone in his hotel room drinking a 6-pack all by himself, joint resting on an ashtray. Millions and millions of thoughts filled his head. Like a hot air balloon that threatened to burst, he quelled his thoughts with another puff of his joint. 

You could always rely on a good beer and joint combo to blank out any bad thoughts. 

He’s getting through the night already, he can’t tell what time it is but it sure as hell felt like forever. Jason had the windows open, the soft, cool wind blowing in, mixing with the smell of pot and the beer laden on his breath. 

When he’s finally unwinding, he’s coiled taut again by the sharp rapping against his foot. He places down his fourth beer of the night and stubs out his blunt, standing to open the door. 

And there stood the root sources of his own self-destructive act. 

“Can I help you guys?” He asked, slurring his words ever so slightly, door half-open. He knows he looks like a mess, his hair sticking up, eyes bloodshot and clearly zooted. The smell of weed drifts from his room into the hallway, and Jason’s eyes strain at the brightness in the hallway.

“Oh..uh…” started Lars. Jason tilted his head, waiting for whatever he had to say. “We were just wondering what you were doing since you left the afterparty so early.”

Jason shrugs. “Wasn’t in the mood.” James scoffs softly. “Obviously in the mood to drink and smoke by yourself.” In no mood to entertain them, he raised his eyebrows over half-lidded eyes. 

“Now you know what I was doing. G’night.” 

“Hey, wait—“

Before he can shut his door, a shoe blocks it in the last second. Jason holds back the urge to groan. “What?” He says annoyedly, opening the door a fraction to peek out. 

“Listen, you need to stop acting like a spoiled child. It isn’t our fault your bass went out.” James says defensively. Jason wants to roll his eyes. Wants to yell at him and say that it was, that he had planned it all, that he was the mastermind. But even in his inebriated state, he retained his sobriety and retained his temper.

“Uhuh.” Was all he had to say, rubbing one of his reddened eyes. “Jesus Christ…whatever, get mad at us. See if we care.” He saw James and Lars storm off in the other direction, no doubt speaking ill of him behind his back and planning their next “prank”. And as he moved to close his door, he was stopped again, but not by force this time.

“Wait.” 

He almost wanted to cry out in frustration. But he didn’t. He couldn’t be temperamental. He couldn’t. After all, he was supposed to be the calm one. 

Kirk stood outside his door—previously overshadowed by the two biggest egos in the hallway, Jason barely noticed his presence. But now it was the two of them. 

“..Yeah..?” Jason couldn’t bring himself to raise his voice. Kirk was always the most passive among the other three with his hazing, if one could even call it that. Sure, he participated in the beginning, but he got over his grief, and acknowledged Jason as another person with feelings. Not like he was a puppet built to destroy like James and Lars thought he was. 

“Can I come in? I just..I wanna talk.” Kirk stood in front of the gap in the door now, eyes locking with Jason’s. Against his better judgement, Jason opened the door. Kirk was let in, and Jason closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it. 

“I’m sorry about what happened…I didn’t know-“ “It’s fine. It’s not like you would’ve done anything like this. I think.” Kirk awkwardly shifted his weight from foot to foot. It hurt slightly to hear Jason speak like that.. “You can sit.”

Kirk flopped next to Jason, the two sitting and facing the open balcony window. The moonlight shone down with her smile, her crescent smile familiar to Jason after nights being alone and contemplating his decisions. 

“The guys don’t know what they’re doing. And I don’t take responsibility for their actions. But they’ll understand, not now, but maybe when they’re 40.” Kirk’s words are almost comforting. 

Almost. 

But it hurts. The reassurance of their realisation only when they’ve seen the world and what it’s for hurts. Why couldn’t they have their moment of clarity now? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to Jason. But nothing was ever fair since Cliff passed. 

“It’s okay.” He mumbled. Kirk rested his head against Jason’s shoulder. It’s an intimate gesture—it’s not playful like when they’re in interviews or posing in photos. It’s like Kirk sees him. Sees through him and sees him right to his core.

“I’m sorry. About what I did. And what I didn’t do to stop them.” Jason wants to laugh bitterly. He knows that Kirk won’t do anything to stop them, not now and not anytime soon. As much as he’d like to believe his words, they’re as real as the groupies he hears them bang every night. 

They sit in silence. Contemplating. As if they had the same thought: “Jason’s suffering.” They share the same mind, even if it’s for a split second. 

It’s the closeness of Kirk to him, the way his warmth spreads and seeps through his clothes onto the cold husk of himself. He wants to believe those little white lies. He wants to believe that this would all stop. But how can one fool themself so easily? 

Kirk lifts his head and looks up at Jason. Jason looks back down at him. All this thinking and sitting in silence sobers him up further. Having deep thoughts drunk and high was fun, till it was with someone else. He always needed to retain control, before he let anything he didn’t mean to say aloud slip out. 

And when their gazes lock, the warmth in the eyes of Kirk’s enveloping the stony greyish blue in Jason’s, he wants to melt. Kirk looks at him with such tenderness. One unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. 

And before he can pull away his gaze, Kirk leans upwards, a hand caressing Jason’s jaw tenderly as his lips meet Kirk’s. Nothing properly registers in the younger man’s mind till Kirk slips a hand through his mussed curls, eyes closed. Once again, the loving action foreign, but not…unwelcome? 

Jason accept the gesture, albeit tentatively. What if Lars and James set him up to this? But it couldn’t be, that moment was too real and too raw to be a prank. You could fake depth but you couldn’t fake sincerity. 

And Kirk kissed him with all the sincerity of a long-lost lover finding his other half. 

Jason’s on his back now, hair sprawled out like an auburn halo, and Kirk thinks that he must be God’s favourite angel. 

So Kirk takes off each article of clothing all gentle and all tender, like he would shatter Jason if he were too rough. And as much as he hated being treated like a fragile little thing, it wasn’t derogatory with Kirk. It was all worshipful and admiration. 

Kirk maps out the plane expanses of Jason’s body with his hands, tracing each beauty mark and contour with his hands. Kirk was never like this with Lars, who liked it all teeth and friction and crazed lovemaking. It was a nice change of pace from the Dane. 

When Kirk’s hands slip lower and lower, Jason, always a loud presence on stage, let out a soft whine. Jason, who was all growls and guttural vocals, let himself a moment of vulnerability with Kirk. Fondling him now, the auburn man is all breathy gasps and pathetic little whines. It eggs Kirk on, and Jason mewls while bucking up into his hand. 

His hand moves faster, and they kiss again, as tender and loving as the first. Jason grants him that, that small sliver of his true side, and Kirk savours it like a drug. Jason gasps and writhes and moans Kirk’s name, and he drinks it all in. With Lars, he was the one getting boned six days from Sunday, but now he got to give Jason what he always wanted to receive. 

When Jason’s spend coats his hand, the man moans so sweetly. It’s oh so damn intimate and genuine, and it’s not pornstar-eqsue and fake like with groupies. It’s not like the animalistic growls with Lars. Sugar to his ears, icing of sin dripping off an angelcake. 

He strips himself down to match Jason, and he glanced up for permission. To take him. To have him. To show him how much he cared and adored him. Jason sat up. 

“I’ve never done this before—been with a guy, I mean.” The hesitation is clear, but Kirk gives him a reassuring smile. “I’ll make it good. You just have to trust me.” Trust Jason does, settling into his back. Kirk finds the lube easily, abandoned and barely used. Jason could find girls easily, but what wasn’t easy was letting them in during this dark period of time. 

Jason trusts him, and that’s all he needs before he’s got his fingers slicked up and has Jason’s legs spread. 

“Deep breaths, okay? It’s gonna feel weird, tell me if I need to stop.” One lubed fingers pushes past the tight ring of muscle, and Jason groans. It’s not uncomfortable or painful, but it’s a unique sensation. Kirk thrusts this finger in and out gently, and Jason lets himself be pliant. 

“I’m gonna add another, is that okay?” Kirk caressed the side of Jason’s face, his middle finger ready. Jason nodded, and in slipped the second. There was a slight stretch that had Jason squirming, not exactly unwelcome, though. It felt unique and almost good—but it all changed when Kirk crooked the ends of his fingers by a few degrees, brushing past a spot that made him see stars. 

“Fuck—“, he choked on a moan and his body curved upward. Kirk stilled, concern welling in his eyes. “What..what was that?” “That was your g-spot. Let me find that again , and you’ll know why it’s called that.”

When Kirk crooks his fingers further, his knuckles rub against the rubbery ball of nerves that set Jason’s loins aflame. He keens, toes curling as he grips the sheets. Kirk smiles and continues his assault on that spot, stars sparkling behind his eyelids. “How does that feel?”

“Kirk—that’s..oh, fuck-!” Jason moans, the familiar pressure building in his belly, and he’s sure he might come just from that. It’s all so overwhelmingly good that his mind spins, already muddled from the beers. Kirk set a steady rhythm, curling and scissoring his fingers in a way that had Jason keening. 

“Good?” The older man asks. It felt good to make Jason feel good, the bassist recently seemed to be down in the dumps after shows, no matter how high-energy he was on stage. “So good—“ he choked out, eyes squeezed shut as breathy moans escaped his parted lips. Precome pearled at his tip, dripping down the underside of his cock.

When Kirk retracts his fingers, he whines at the loss. “Why..” he asks, question left unspoken but understood. “I want you to come on my cock.” Flushing at the obscene words, Jason’s pale face went pink in a matter of seconds. How cute, Kirk thought. 

Squeezing a generous amount of lube, he slicked up his length, his clean hand pushing the hair out of Jason’s face. “You’re gorgeous, Jase.” He complimented, and Jason scoffs in embarrassment. 

Kirk lines himself up with Jason’s hole, and looks up at him for confirmation. The younger man nods, biting his lip. Kirk’s cock prods at him, before the head slips in. He lets Jason adjust, watching with care. 

Jason bites down a cry, Kirk softly rocking his hips and working Jason open further. It felt like he was being torn into two, unused to the stretch that came with having a dick up his ass. “Oh, fuuuck—“

Kirk’s hips stuttered as he felt the flutter of Jason’s hole around his dick, and it had Kirk gripping Jason’s hips tightly. Jason looked his hottest like this, back bowed in ecstasy and his ass stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey with Kirk’s dick. The elder carefully draped himself over Jason and tilted up his chin gently, leaning in against his chest and tilting his head so that he could look into his eyes. 

As he fucked him slow and gentle, they kept eye contact, Kirk analysing every expression Jason made. His face scrunched up, brow glistening with sweat.

Kirk was hitting Jason’s sweet spot dead in with each smartly calculated roll of his hips. Jason’s prostate felt raw, and it was all so much, it took everything not to come right then and there. Kirk gave him a particularly well-angled thrust, cock hitting Jason’s prostate like a bullseye. Kirk moans at his sheer tightness, gripping his thighs tight.

Kirk’s dick rubbed against it deliciously as he withdrew, only to slam in and nail it again, right on the dot. It made Jason arch his back into a taut bow against Kirk as the sparks lit up every nerve ending like lightning.

It was never-ending pleasure, and Jason didn’t even notice his orgasm, taking him by surprise when he spilled onto his chest. Kirk didn’t stop, still gently fucking into him and chasing his own pleasure now that Jason was satiated. With the younger man clenching around him like a vice, it was hard to continue past a few thrusts before he fills Jason, insides all warm and gooey. 

They lay there for a while, their panting filling the room. Their bodies are warm against the cool midnight air—it’s so serene and feels unreal. Everything blurs together. Their bodies and their passion and their shared intimacy under the gaze of the moon. 

Tender and soft, Jason’s curled against Kirk’s chest with his body painted with his and Kirk’s come, but he doesn’t mind. Kirk has an arm draped across his waist, breathing in the faint pot smell from Jason’s hair. 

Jason knows that Kirk’ll be gone in the morning, back in Lars’ bed like this encounter never happened. He was bound to Lars, and to leave him for Jason was unforgivable. This little affair was meant to be forgotten in the morning. To never be spoken of again, despite their passions for one another.

Kirk and Jason. Jason and Kirk. In another world they’d be inseparable. In another world, they’d be lovers. In another world, they wouldn’t have met the way they had. But God hates Jason, that’s why he makes him suffer. 

The one who suffers through it all, is God’s most beautiful angel. He is beautiful and he is pained, bound to fall far from God’s grace when the time comes. Bound to slip through Kirk’s fingers soon. 

So they’d let themselves have this. This tiny sliver of heaven a sanctuary to them, they, who are not granted it.

𝐧𝟑𝐰𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐝’𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!!

✯ 𝐡𝐢!✯ ✯ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐜/𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢 :)) 𝐢 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 + 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤!! 𝐌𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠!!✯

𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐨𝟑: 𝐧𝟑𝐰𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐝 | 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐎𝐰𝐧

☆ starred fics are my favourites ☆

𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀

Kinks  (nsfw - kinks that i think the guys would have)

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐓 ꥟

Kirk/Jason - Lust at First Bite ☆ nsfw - psychological torment, slight blood kink, begging, anal fingering, rimming, anal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, graveyard sex

Kirk/Jason - Sanctuary ☆ nsfw - drug usage, drinking to cope, first time(s), anal sex, sad sex

Kirk/Jason - Help needed  nsfw - sex pollen, overstimulation, anal sex

Kirk/Lars - Movie Night nsfw - anal sex, riding, getting caught, getting blue balled

Dave/Kirk - Do Revenge nsfw - degrading, degradation kink, slight humiliation kink, blow job, face-fucking, semi-public sex

𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐔𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 ✧

Kirk/Lars - Movie Night nsfw - anal sex, riding, getting caught, getting blue balled

Dave/Lars - Act Up ☆ nsfw - anal sex, rough sex, hate sex, no prep, degradation, choking, brief violence, no aftercare, brat taming

James/Lars - Birthday Present  nsfw - lingerie, age gap, fingering, anal sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, slight size difference

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 ꥟

Kirk/Jason - Lust at First Bite ☆ nsfw - psychological torment, slight blood kink, begging, anal fingering, rimming, anal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, graveyard sex

Kirk/Jason - Sanctuary ☆ nsfw - drug usage, drinking to cope, first time(s), anal sex, sad sex

Kirk/Jason - Help needed  nsfw - sex pollen, overstimulation, anal sex

James/Jason - Strange Dreams  nsfw - non-con somnophilia, dream sex, wet dream, blow jobs, (implied) incubus James Hetfield

James/Jason - Til It’s All Better  nsfw - mild blood, blood kink, scratching kink, wound licking, anal sex, rough sex

James/Jason - Dare ☆ fluff, truth or dare, flirting

Dave/Jason - Call Me Back ☆ fluff, phone calls, first date

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 ✧

James/Jason - Strange Dreams nsfw - non-con somnophilia, dream sex, wet dream, blow jobs, (implied) incubus James Hetfield

James/Jason - Til It’s All Better nsfw - mild blood, blood kink, scratching kink, wound licking, anal sex, rough sex

James/Jason - Dare ☆ fluff, truth or dare, flirting

James/Dave - Eat Me Alive ☆ nsfw - anal sex, anal fingering, blow job(s), gunplay, threats of violence

James/Dave - Atta Boy ☆ nsfw - trans Dave, loss of virginity, first time, vaginal fingering, pussy eating, p in v

James/Dave - Tell Me You Love Me nsfw - fwb, arguing, making up & making out, makeup sex, anal sex, anal fingering

James/Lars - Birthday Present nsfw - lingerie, age gap, fingering, anal sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, slight size difference

James/Lars - Tender is the heart angst - self-hating speech, comfort

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄 ꥟

Junior/Dave - Vision Thing nsfw - blindfolds, bondage, anal sex, begging kink, no prep

James/Dave - Eat Me Alive ☆ nsfw - anal sex, anal fingering, blow job(s), gunplay, threats of violence

James/Dave - Atta Boy ☆ nsfw - trans Dave, loss of virginity, first time, vaginal fingering, pussy eating, p in v

James/Dave - Tell Me You Love Me nsfw - fwb, arguing, making up & making out, makeup sex, anal sex, anal fingering

James/Dave - Glasses nsfw - glasses link, blow jobs, deepthroating, slight hair-pulling

Dave/Lars - Act Up ☆ nsfw - anal sex, rough sex, hate sex, no prep, degradation, choking, brief violence, no aftercare, brat taming

Dave/Jason - Call Me Back ☆ fluff, phone calls, first date

Dave/Kirk - Do Revenge nsfw - degrading, degradation kink, slight humiliation kink, blow job, face-fucking, semi-public sex