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n3wstxd · 23 days ago

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𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

thanks to @thenaughtynun for giving me the motivation to write this

warnings: blow jobs, deepthroating, glasses kink, facials, slight hair-pulling,

nsfw below the cut :)

The first time James had seen Dave in those thin, wire-framed glasses that he used on occasion, he was enraptured. He looked like some kind of geek, like a computer programming nerd, though that couldn’t be further from the truth.

It’s so tantalising, the way they perch on the bridge of his nose as he watches movies while sprawled out on their couch, and God, James never wanted to thank the divine more for myopia existing. His innocent adoration for Dave in glasses had soon enough morphed into something of an aching need to see his boyfriend utterly ruined in those specs.

Come splattered across those delicate frames, lying low and crooked on his nosebridge. He’s have to wipe it off with his sleeve like some kind of dork cleaning his glasses, and somehow that thought was even more arousing than getting a blowie.

The thought took up most of the space in his mind, occupying most of his brain when he saw Dave walking around the house with them like a total slut. And James knows it isn’t his fault he looks so good in glasses, but it also kind of is, when he’s popping a boner every time he strolls past.

It was like a never ending hell of being turned on, unable to hide his very obvious arousal. God, it was torture, and Dave wasn’t even trying to be a tease (for once).

It doesn’t help that Dave is very much an oblivious idiot, as well. So, whenever he catches James ogling his ass, he merely sends him a small grin, believing that he was being leered at because he was cute, not because of his glasses. Even worse, Dave always seemed to be wearing those damn glasses whenever they went somewhere together, the only time he took them off being in the car, where James couldn’t touch him..

It’s a late Sunday afternoon, and the two were currently relaxing at home, Dave settled into a comfortable looking sweater and his wire-frames, scrolling through the TV channels. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration, and James found himself unable to keep his eyes from trailing down the bridge of Dave’s nose, his eyes fixated on his boyfriend’s glasses.

“What the hell are you staring at, James?” Dave murmurs without looking up, not missing a beat in his browsing.

James grits his teeth. Dave was such an oblivious idiot, but that was one thing he loved about him, as contradictory as that seemed. It wasn’t even like Dave was being purposely ignorant of the fact that he was the source of James’s obsession this time.. he was just naturally slow on the uptake.

“Nothin’…” James muttered, still not taking his eyes off Dave. His fingers tapped nervously on the leather of the couch between them, his eyes flickering to his boyfriend’s specs, under the guise of staring him in the eyes.

Dave didn’t seem convinced, though, and he turned his head to face his boyfriend, finally peeling his eyes away from the television. “You need something or what?”

James hesitates for a moment, considering if he should just tell Dave the truth, or if he should just lie. The thing was, he knew Dave wouldn’t be opposed, not at all, but he wanted to see what his boyfriend would say, even if they both knew he wouldn’t mean it.

Still, he didn’t want to be too blunt. Dave could be a pretty sensitive guy, and James would rather not say the wrong thing. “I want a blowjob.” Of course, he’s throwing all his considerations out the window because he wants—no, needs—to ruin Dave in those terribly erotic spectacles.

Dave stares at him for a moment, a blank look in his hazel eyes before he broke into a small scoff, shaking his head. “What, are you horny, Het? Go jerk off. You don’t need to give me a shitty excuse to tell me you want me to suck you off.”

Damn it. Dave could read him like a book, of course he could. Still, despite the fact that he knew Dave was kidding, he still acted offended, pretending like he really was giving an excuse. “I mean, don’t put it like that, I just want some attention, dude, come on… I haven’t gotten any in days, y’know? Come on, baby, please?” He whines, leaning forward and rubbing against him like some sort of cat, trying to get his attention. “Help a guy out.”

“You’re pathetic, I hope you know that.” Dave says, but he can’t keep a smirk from his face and he tilts his head, letting James nuzzle against him for a moment. “Can’t go a couple nights without head? Jesus, what are you, a teenage boy?”

“It’s been more than ‘a couple nights’.” James mumbles, sounding like a petulant child at this point, his body completely pressed against Dave’s by now. He can feel his cock growing stiflingly hard in his jeans, and he lets out a soft huff, moving up to press kisses to the side of Dave’s neck. “Just really want you tonight.”

That’s a half-truth. But he’s not going to tell Dave the real reason he’s all wound up or he’d never those glasses ever again.

It seems to work, though, because Dave lets out a soft huff of a sigh, placing one of his hands on the back of James’ neck, his fingers playing with the ends of his hair. “Okay, fine, alright. Fine, you win, you needy fuckin’ baby...” He sighs to himself, eyes rolling, but the teasing words lacked any sort of heat to them.

As Dave slides off the couch to sink to his knees, there’s that trembling sense of anticipation in his gut. Finally, he’ll get what he’s been wanting to see for the longest time, and the thought is even more blissful that it should be.

Nimble hands pull his pants down to his mid-thigh, one step closer to freeing his aching dick from its confines. Then, he peels James’ boxers away, letting his cock spring free, a flushed and angry red. James practically salivates as Dave tucks his hair behind his ears, shuffling closer to hover his mouth over James’ throbbing length.

When Dave brings his mouth down, letting James sheath himself in that tight wet cavern that is his mouth, his hand settling to tightly grip those brassy curls as Dave hollows his cheeks and bobs up and down, able to take him to the hilt with a practiced ease. He groans as the shaft pushed past his throat, James shudders at the vibrations, pleasure tingling up his spine.

“Jesus—shit, ah, fuck—!”

Choking on a moan, James uses the back of his hand to cover his mouth, almost embarrassed by the lewd noises he lets out freely. However, the sounds encourage Dave even more, and he once again takes all of him, drool stating to dribble down his chin obscenely.

Warm lips wrap around his cock perfectly, as if they were practically made for him, tonguing the base of James’ length. His eyes flutter shut, stars exploding behind his eyelids at the sensations, because Dave’s too damn good at blowjobs and knows exactly what makes him tick.

“Fuck—”

Tears prickle the ginger’s eyes, his throat beginning to feel raw with each stab to the back of his throat with James’ tip, a had reaching down to cup and fondle his balls. James draws in a sharp breath, his grip on Dave’s hair increasing tenfold. Dave’s fingers dig into his thighs, and it would be stingingly painful if not for the bouts of pleasure his boyfriend presents to him.

James’ balls throb gently in Dave’s hands, the thick vein on the underside of his shaft pulsating, twitching in his mouth like it was waiting for something to push him off the edge, to be granted his orgasm. So he increases his efforts tenfold, doing everything in his power to make James come even faster, wanting nothing more than to swallow his load and get back to Breaking Bad.

“Dave, Dave, please, I’m gonna—”

Dave hums in response, the vibrations drawing a cry of ecstasy from his partner. He can feel James’ cock thicken in his mouth, strangled sounds wrenching themselves from his throat. As the blonde is about to come, he pulls Dave’s lecherous mouth off him, shooting ropes of spunk over his face and glasses. Taken aback, Dave doesn’t exactly know how to react well.

“You fucker, you got it on my glasses!” Shooting a nasty glare at James, Dave looks as debauched as he had imagined, specs slanted and coated in his come, his seed dripping down his face. The man merely shrugs in response, with really nothing more to say. Dave doesn’t take his glasses off but grumbles something about having to clean them under his breath, another about getting a facial in front of Jesse Pinkman, and the look of his very come-coated face with those wiry frames has James jumping to full hardness again.

“Hey, Dave…?” He asks, leaving his question unspoken, voice oh-so meek.

“Yeah, yeah, help me outta my clothes.”

#n3wstxd #james hetfield #dave mustaine #metallica #metallica smut #Megadeth #megadeth smut

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n3wstxd · 26 days ago

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thanks for the tag @madamsixx

mary jane - megadeth

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

ATTENTION

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

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n3wstxd · 1 month ago

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5 likes and I’ll write trans James pegging Dave

this Dave this James thanks goodnight

#n3wstxd #metallica smut #james hetfield #dave mustaine #megadeth smut

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n3wstxd · 1 month ago

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hear me out

dilf jason…90s james…say gex…

i mean dirty sweaty disgustingly down bad sex

ok thanks for listening to my Ted talk

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

#n3wstxd #metallica #james hetfield #jason newsted #metallica smut #Jameson

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n3wstxd · 1 month ago

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Thoughts?

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n3wstxd · 1 month ago

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Ok it is december 1st.

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n3wstxd · 1 month ago

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hmo. james/dave arcane au. "you're /hot/, cupcake." do with that what you will. i've just been barrelling through s2 and your post abt it sparked something in my head.

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄/𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 - 𝐒𝐨 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐭 𝐁𝐞?

warnings: arcane au, dry humping, anal sex, riding, slight degradation, teasing, begging, whiny top James, power bottom Dave, orgasm denial, ambiguous ending

okay so this kinda follows the plot of s1 ep5 but like also doesn’t?? Idk man

James cringes at Dave’s sloppy eating—the dish was some kind of strange blue meat covered in a honey-coloured sauce. It smelled a little strange, but Dave acted like it was the best meal he’s had to date.

“Oh, Jericho! Have I missed these…” Dave muses, and ‘Jericho’, the strange fish-humanoid merely garbled a response, cackling to himself.

The redhead hums softly in an unspoken question, holding a piece of the fishy meat out to James. He cringes in response, responding with a curt, “No. Thank you.” Dave shrugs plopping the meat into his mouth, chewing as he spoke. “You’re missing out.”

Exasperated, James pulls his hood to shield his face from Jericho in a feeble attempt to mama his identity. “Are you going to question him?” He hissed, blue eyes narrowing as they scan Dave’s happy-go-lucky demeanour.

The Zaunite raised an eyebrow, as if he knew nothing of what he was asking. “About what? The meat?” Conveniently, Jericho scratches his ass right after that question. “Definitely not above board.” He shakes his head softly, scraping up sauce to coat another slice of meat.

“Silco. His connections? Isn’t that why we’re here?” James can feel his blood pressure rise, because by Janna, this man is insufferable. Dave turns to face him, looking utterly irritated at James’ consistent prodding. “We’re here because I’m hungry. Do you know what prison food is like?” Hazel eyes scan the ex-enforcer. “No, of course you don’t.”

He slurps up another piece of the tangy meat, and then another, as James begins to rant to him softly. “Unbelievable, I didn’t break you out of jail to eat…slop.” He stands, his hand gesturing around in a controlled, yet annoyed movement. “I knew this was a terrible idea! You don’t know anything, do you?” He growls, pointing an accusing finger at the ginger, who’s busy gulping down the remnants of the honeyed sauce from the bowl.

Dave wipes his mouth with the bandaged back of his hand, ignoring James as he sighs in contentment. “Mm… Better than I remember.” He praised wistfully, and Jericho finally faces them, gibbering in whatever language it is that he spoke. He swings his butcher’s knife onto the slab of wood he uses as a knife block, taking Dave’s bowl and sliding a napkin towards him with another jabber.

Dave picks up the corner of the napkin, eyeing the symbol on its underside. He gives a sideways glance to James, whose blue eyes widen in surprise. He slides the napkin into his crimson jacket, walking off as a silent beckoning for James to follow.

Jericho looks at James expectedly with a toothy grin, and the blonde hums and returns an awkward smile before attempting to match Dave’s pace. He finally makes it to Dave’s side, whispering a soft, “What does the symbol mean?” Dave gives James a once-over, huffing as he blows a curl out of his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. It’s where we need to head to.”

As they walk through the lanes, Dave pulls his hood up, his curls bouncing as they lay against the flat expanse of his chest. The Piltie trails behind him, scanning the scene with a little paranoia. He didn’t know what to expect down in the Undercity.

Dave leads him through a myriad of alleyways and past what looks to be the black market, until they climb up a flight of stairs. Walking along a balcony overseeing the ground, Dave’s eyes are particularly drawn to a huge eye-like non sign that reads ‘The Last Drop’. The Zaunite pulls his hood back, resting his hands on the oxidised metal of the railing, and they watch as two big burly guards shove away a man who’s stirring up a ruckus.

Dave’s breathing speeds up, his brow furrowing as a soft ‘Hm’ escapes his lips. Hazel eyes lock into the building, his thoughts stirring in a mix of unadulterated anger and mourning.

Like the insensitive Piltie he is, James looks over his shoulder and scoffs ever so softly. “Well, that place does look like it has bodies buried in the basement.” That statement hits too close to home, and Dave clenched the railing as he exhaled raggedly. The metal creaks softly, and he pulls away, scowling as he shoots a glare at the blonde. “You don’t know anything.”

Dave roughly bumps into James’ shoulder, and he looks at the man’s fleeting figure. He frowns, not exactly sure what Dave’s problem was. Typical Zaunite behaviour is what he chalks it up to, before finally trudging after him, still pondering what caused such an outburst.

Eventually, the pair reach a large, ornate door in the nook of an alleyway, bearing the symbol they had seen on the napkin. Dave raps against the door, and a small opening slides open, a big green eye peeking out to observe. James glances at the eye before facing down, his expression carrying surprise as he clears his throat. Dave meets the eye with a jerk of his head upwards, and the guard groans as it scans for anyone else.

Satisfied, he closes the little window and unlocks the reddish door, revealing the long hallway down. It’s carpeted with velvet and smells like bergamot and frankincense, wicked laughter echoing through the hall.

“The one place all the secrets are spilled.” Dave shoved his hands into his jacket’s pocket, beckoning James with a tilt to his head as he leads the way. Uptight, James follows, as if trying to make himself seem smaller. ‘Great,’ the Piltie thinks with a strange shiver going through him. ‘We’re in a brothel.’

They saunter past rooms, all decorated to the nines with plants, paintings, food and most of all, drugs made with shimmer. James averts his gaze, looking awkwardly side to side as his shoulders tense, sticking close to Dave. They can hear laughing and indistinct chatter, and his partner doesn’t seem even the slightest bit out of place. Perhaps he’s come here before, and that thought makes James’ stomach lurch with an unwelcome jealousy.

There’s soft jazz playing in the background, and James eyes a couple lounging in one of the room, sharing a puff of shimmer. A woman with a cat mask exhales the purple fumes, and a man in a goatish mask inhales it, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. James nervously looks away, looking towards the other side of the hall, where there’s a couple bathing.

He’s taken aback by the sight of them quite literally fucking in the bathtub, not caring for who saw them. “…Like a trumpet!” The man grunts with conviction, and the woman giggles, tracing down his body with a teasing finger.

He takes his leave and hurries after Dave, a soft blush blooming onto his skin. He raises a finger, trying to get his bearings. “How exactly do you propose we go about this?” He gulps, and a little humanoid elf thing hums as it walks past them in BDSM gear. Dave scoffs with amusement, turning to James as he tilts his head, motioning towards the humanoid.

“Let them think you work here.” James’ head snaps up to meet his gaze, appalled. “Excuse me? I will not!” Dave sighs, backtracking towards James. “You know what your problem is?” James harrumphs, raising an eyebrow as he challenges. “Please. Tell me.”

Dave’s voice is soft, but still firm. “You expect everyone to give you what you want. If you really want people to talk to you, you have to let them think you have what they want.” He begins to circle the blonde, who gulps nervously.

“And..what do I have?” He asks, following Dave’s movements as he turns his head, still quite the bit oblivious to what the strawberry blonde was implying.

Eyes scan James’ form appraisingly, and Dave can’t lie, James is attractive.

“You’re hot, cupcake.”

He leans in way too close for James’ liking, walking him back into a wall, holding eye contact that’s too intense for him. A hand plants itself beside James’ head, effectively keeping him in place. He can see all the details of Dave’s face up-close, the small scars on his cheeks and brow, his ear piercings and the tattoo that creeps up his neck. Most of all, those peachy lips that are far too tantalising to resist.

James flushes, incredibly embarrassed and turned on by the whole scenario. “So what will it be, man or woman?” Dave places his other arm on the other side of James, leaning in even closer. It’s a little funny given that Dave has to slightly look up to him, but nonetheless arousing.

James tries to stutter out a response, and the ex-inmate raises an eyebrow, waiting. After a few more seconds of James gaping like a fish, they hear footsteps. Dave glances sideways and curses, taking it upon himself to drag James into one of the empty rooms in the brothel, ensuring that the door was locked.

James is shoved into the room, stumbling before he regains his footing and steadies himself, feeling a tad lightheaded. His heart is thrumming with something he can’t really understand, his chest heaving with sharp breaths as Dave leans against the door, crossing his arms loosely as he eyes him up and down.

Feeling quite intimidated, James steps further into the room, looking on at the plush blankets and pillows scattered about, all different colours of the rainbow. It’s rather eye-catching to look at, and it’s clear what this room is meant for.

“Uhm.” He clears his throat, trying to rid himself of the lump lodged in it. Dave’s gaze is still on him, and he can feel it burning into his back as he walks to the bed, sitting down onto the edge and placing his hands in his lap. He’s embarrassed by how red his face is, and he averts his face, staring intently at the gaudy patterns on the bedsheets.

Dave chuckles behind him, strolling over to where James is sat, his gaze scanning his form. “You know..” His tone is deceptively sweet, as he places a hand on James’ shoulder. The Piltie shivers slightly at just a mere touch, and Dave pushes on.

“For being the son of a councillor, you’re quite shy.” He mutters, eyeing the slit under the drapes where someone’s standing. Watching.

James clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to shove Dave away. That’s about the last thing he needs, and he’s not that naive. Although, the way Dave’s palm is beginning to wander down to his side isn’t helping.

“I’m not shy..” He mumbles quietly, shifting a little closer to the edge of the bed. Dave hums thoughtfully, his free hand gently tipping up James’ chin and forcing the blonde to look towards him.

“No?” His thumb moves across James’ jaw, his eyes darkening. He takes in the sight of James looking up at him, and it’s oddly satisfying. The strawberry blonde can see the way his throat bobs when he swallows, his chest rising and falling with every breath. The faint flush on his cheeks and the way his eyes dart around nervously, almost like a caged animal. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this.

Dave’s hand moves to the back of his head, gripping his hair and pulling him forwards, a knee slowly making its way between his legs.

“Wha—mmh!” James’ squeak is stifled by Dave’s other hand, pressing against his mouth firmly and forcing him to keep staring up at him. This is embarrassing and it’s making his head spin. The ex-con slowly pushes James onto his back, crawling on top of him and pinning his hands down.

"Don’t fight it, cupcake.” Dave murmurs, his free hand travelling across the expanse of James’ chest.

James gasps silently, his heart beating in his throat. This is far too much for him, and Dave’s fingers are exploring his body with no reservations, and the blonde can’t find the will to push away. Dave presses himself against him, his hips rolling against his, his teeth grazing under his ear and James’ skin prickles.

He’s unable to control the way his body automatically reacts as Dave pushes against him, a small noise of pleasure muffled by his fingers. Dave makes a noise of amusement, feeling the way the blonde is squirming under him.

“God. You’re so squirmy, aren’t you?” Dave murmurs into his neck, nipping and sucking at the skin, leaving behind little marks as he goes. He keeps his hands pinned down as he continues to tease him, his knee still pushed between his legs.

Dave leans in even closer, whispering just above a breath. “Someone’s watching us. Play along.”

James’ eyes widen, his breathing hitches as he realises what Dave’s implying. Play along. Yeah, easy enough. Not. He’s trying to resist the moan slipping from his lips, but Dave’s making it so difficult for him. His body is betraying him, arching into every touch and shiver against his skin, and he hates how good it feels. The warmth pooling in his lower abdomen is becoming unbearable, and it doesn’t help that Dave’s still moving against him, grinding their hips together.

He looks up, and he realises that they are, in fact, being watched. A pair of beady greyish eyes reflect through the gap in the curtains. Metal glints in their grasp, and James is now acutely away of the gun in their hand, hence Dave’s strange behaviour.

Dave continues to kiss and suck marks into his skin, his hands sliding over his body to his hips, slowly moving them in a small circle and rubbing against his crotch. That makes James let out a high-pitched whine, and Dave can’t help but chuckle as he presses down harder, drawing a gasp from the Piltie, who throws his head back, revealing his pale neck.

Dave takes the opportunity to start sucking at the flesh, leaving a series of kisses down the expanse of his neck for show, all the while, the figure watches them, expression unreadable. Dave eyes the figure out of the corner of his eye, and even when they make eye contact, the person doesn’t leave.

James is starting to get lost in the sensation, barely taking notice of the figure staring at them. He’s more focused on the way Dave is working his mouth down his neck and collarbone, sucking, biting and licking at his skin. His breath stutters as Dave’s lips latch onto that one spot, sucking so harshly that he’s sure it’s going to leave a huge bruise later on.

He suddenly feels Dave’s hips still, and the strawberry blonde murmurs into his skin. “They’re still watching.”

James’ eyes widen as his brain finally catches up to him, and he realises why Dave’s words make his stomach churn in a very unpleasant way. He’s still pinned down, his hands restrained above his head with Dave sitting on his hips, looking utterly disheveled.

He swallows as he glances towards the figure, who hasn’t stopped staring. “How long are they going to continue?” He murmurs, fighting to keep his voice steady, and Dave just shrugs, his mouth back on his chest and working another mark onto his skin. “Just play along until they leave.”

Dave’s biting and sucking up and down on his chest, and he’s sure that he’s going to have quite the collection of lovebites later on. It’s embarrassing how worked up this is getting him, and he’s trying his best to hold back the noises from leaving his lips. Despite this, a small gasp escapes as Dave pushes against him, rolling their hips against each other.

The figure is still in their place, eyes watching every single movement. This is both terrifying and humiliating, and James can’t decide which it is at this point.

Dave’s hands slide from his hips to his thighs, gently pushing them apart so that he can get in between, grinding against him. James lets out a shaky breath, his legs moving to wrap around Dave’s waist of their own accord. Dave doesn’t seem to mind, making some sort of guttural noise as he leans up to press a kiss onto his lips, the first actual kiss in this whole situation.

James can’t help the noise of surprise that escapes him, and he’s shocked when Dave uses the opportunity to push his tongue into his mouth. Oh Janna.

Dave’s tongue is in his mouth, licking and sucking into him, and it’s embarrassing how fast and how hard James is getting. Dave’s own hips are rubbing against him, and the blonde can’t quite tell if it’s for show or if Dave actually enjoys this. But he’s getting lost in the sensations, his legs wrapping tighter around the strawberry blonde’s hips, drawing them in closer together.

James’ back is arching, his mouth open and letting out soft sounds of pleasure. Everything feels good, even if it’s being watched.

Dave’s hands are wandering up and down his body, his tongue still exploring the inside of his mouth, and James is pretty sure he’s going to die if it doesn’t stop. But he doesn’t actually mind if it doesn’t stop, he’s enjoying it quite a bit. The only thing he can’t stand is the staring. He’s trying not to look, but it’s in his line of sight and it’s making his skin burn just a bit hotter. They’re pretending to actually be at the brothel for sex, not…whatever it is Dave has planned.

Dave’s hands run over his hips, his mouth still on his own, and the blonde is feeling a tad lightheaded as Dave begins to bite at his lower lip. He can barely think, his mind all hazy with pleasure that he’s is drawing from him. His body seems to move on its own, grinding against Dave’s in all the right ways.

He’s starting to let out soft moans, and he suddenly realises that the figure is no longer in their spot by the door. It’s only him and Dave, alone together. Satisfied, the ginger pulls away, straightening out his shirt.

James is still in a daze as Dave gets off of him, panting for breath. It takes a few moments for his sight to clear, and when it does, he’s suddenly all too aware of the silence in the room. He gulps, sitting up and staring at the ginger, trying to find the right words to say. He can still feel how his lips still tingle with the ghost of Dave’s touch.

“Did it work?” His voice is a lot raspier than he expected, and Dave glances over, a lazy smirk on his face. “Of course it did. Now get up, we have information to gather.”

James lets out a small noise of annoyance. “You used me as bait.”

He’s still a bit annoyed and lightheaded, but he quickly pulls his clothes back into place and stands up, running a hand through his messy hair to try and bring it back into some sort of order.

Dave snorts, rolling his eyes. “Well, yeah. But it got results. You’re just a good enough actor for it.” He takes a few steps closer, reaching up to pat his hair back down. The touch is gentle, and James hates how it makes him shiver. “This isn’t fair.”

The Zaunite raises an eyebrow, half-amused. “What isn’t?”

James’ gaze is avoiding Dave’s as he gestures somewhat vaguely. “You just…you get me all hot and bothered and then you just stop like that. It’s not fair. You use me like some sort of doll.” His voice almost comes out like a whine, and he hates how whiny he probably sounds.

Dave scoffs, his smirk turning into a grin as he moves in even closer, backing James up against the wall. “What, did you expect me to properly fuck you?”

James’ breath hitches at his bold words, and he feels himself lean back against the wall, looking up as Dave cages him in with his arms. A flush is back on his face, and he’s trying to form a response when his mind goes completely blank at what Dave just said. The strawberry blonde looks far too pleased with himself as he lowers his head, his breath fanning over James’ ear. “Is that what you want, cupcake?”

James’ brain has apparently imploded, because the only response he can give is an embarrassingly needy whine.

Dave doesn’t get a response, but the small whine he lets out is far too sweet and appealing to him, and he’s already got an unfair upper hand on the Piltie. He knows he’s already got him in the palm of his hand as he leans in, murmuring into his ear. “Since you whined so nicely.” He’s taunting, and the blush on the Piltie’s face is so damn adorable that it has his stomach twisting.

James lets out a gasp as he hits the bed, bouncing slightly before sinking into the plush blankets. He feels oddly exposed as he watches Dave crawl onto the bed, a lazy smirk on his face as he positions himself over the Piltie. He’s pinning him down again, and James can’t help but let out a small whine, his hips bucking of their own accord.

“Let’s make this quick, yes?” Dave mutters, his calloused hand roaming down the length of his body.

Dave’s hand is trailing over his stomach, the rough skin of his palm leaving a trail of fire behind it. James can feel the heat pooling in his lower stomach, and he’s trying to keep his breathing even as the ginger’s hand stops at his pants, toying with his belt buckle.

He whines, his hips arching into the touch, and Dave chuckles, the sound low and mocking. “Damnit,” the blonde mutters, his breath shaky, “stop playing around.”

Dave clicks his tongue as he slowly undoes the buckle, tugging the belt out of the loop. “Hush.” He wastes no precious time pulling his pants off, and James is trying not to squirm and whine as the bastard purposely avoids the place he really wants his touch.

He’s embarrassingly hard and leaking in his boxers, his clothes in a messy bundle around his ankles. “Please, I don’t want to wait—” Dave tuts, shushing him once more as he sheds his own pants, climbing to straddle James’ lap. “I’ll make this quick.”

Dave’s in his lap now, straddling him. It’s a sight that James can’t quite get used to, especially as the ginger slowly starts to roll his hips. The friction between them is painfully blissful, and James has to bite back a moan. Damn bastard for making this hard.

“Bastard,” he gasps, trying to keep his breathing steady, “do something other than just sitting there.”

Dave raises an eyebrow, the look on his face far too smug as he rolls his hips again, his own erection pressing against James’, and he can’t hold back the sound he lets out. “You’re desperate,” the ginger murmurs, reaching over for a bottle of oil in a clear glass, “poor you. Must be so repressed by Mummy, hm?”

Dave keeps humping against him, the friction almost driving James mad, and it’s making it so difficult to speak. But the neediness wins, and he manages to form a short sentence. “Get on with it, dammit—”

Dave laughs, and James’ heart flutters slightly at how breathless he sounds. It only flutters for a second before Dave uncorks the oil bottle, and now his fingers are slicked up, and James doesn’t know what’s gonna happen. But he’s guessing he’s about to find out when Dave moves back, his hand moving behind his back.

He’s confused for a moment, until he realises what he’s going to do. “Oh,” he mutters, eyes widening as he watches Dave reach his hand backwards, shuddering a gasp as he preps himself. Janna, James wishes he could bear witness to the sight, but Dave works quick, hovering above him while pouring a generous amount of oil onto his palm.

The ginger’s hand is now coated in slick oil, and James’ breath hitches as Dave takes his hand away, now resting it on James’ hip while the other braces against his shoulder. Dave leans down, hovering above him, and the Piltie can’t help but shiver as Dave murmurs into his ear. “Ready, cupcake? I’m not gonna wait for you to stop whining for one second.”

James nods, and he’s about to respond with a snarky remark when Dave sinks down, his tongue suddenly lost as a gasp tears from his throat. It’s almost too good and too much all at once, overwhelming him to the point where a whimpering moan is all he can manage as the ginger sits in his lap.

He’s gripping Dave’s thighs, his nails digging in as the man above him adjusts and shifts, his breath coming in gasps. “H-Holy-”

It’s all he can get out, his brain is fuzzy, and he’s feeling every single damn thing like it’s being heightened. He can feel every single shift and shiver, the way Dave clenches around him, the way the ginger is panting, as well as his own breathing, short and ragged and desperate.

James has his head thrown back, his eyes closed and his grip almost painful as he whimpers, trying to hold back the moans. dave is riding him, and it’s all that matters in this moment. His nails dig into the soft flesh of his thighs, and he’s lost in the sensations of it all.

Dave merely scoffs, chalking James up to being a virgin, or lacking any sexual expertise. “You better not come before I do, cupcake.” James can’t tell is he’s joking of if he’s joking around, but he doesn’t want to know.

Everything feels like it’s on fire. James can’t think straight, but he thinks he responds with a whimper and a small nod, which is better than nothing. There’s too much to feel, and his brain can’t keep up with the overwhelming amount of sensations. He can’t form a single coherent thought, his mouth just producing a stream of desperate gasps and moans.

Dave is above him, riding him like he was made for it, and James doesn’t know how long he’ll last at all. His body is practically vibrating, his hands shaking as his head is leaned back, eyes squeezed shut. “H-Holy-” it’s the only word he can currently get out, his thoughts fuzzy. All he can feel is the heat coiling in his stomach, building up more and more with each movement, lost in the way that Dave is riding him, bouncing in his lap with a wicked smirk on his face that has his stomach flipping.

Dave is still riding him, driving him wild. The sounds coming from the Piltie are absolutely sinful, little gasps and moans that are like music to the ginger’s ears. Even so, he’s still trying to taunt and tease, leaning down so he’s closer to the man’s ear. “I don’t think you’re gonna be able to last very long. Poor you, not getting any action up in the fancy city, hm?”

James whimpers softly, his breathing ragged as he tries not to let himself go over the edge yet. Damnit, he doesn’t want Dave to have that privilege of being smug and correct. Not when he’s the one getting ridden to the moon.

“I-I’m trying…” he mutters, opening his eyes just enough to glance at Dave, who has a smug smile on his face, the bastard. “D-Don’t look at me like that—”

Dave laughs a little, rolling his hips harder and grinding down, earning a sharp whine between the gasps and moans, the way the Piltie was coming apart was incredible. But he can see that James is struggling to hold on, the way his body is shaking and trembling, practically vibrating.

“Come now, you can’t keep yourself together?” He asks, mockingly curious. “You really must have been suffering up topside.”

James shivers a groans, his hands tightening their grip on Dave’s thighs, trying to keep himself grounded and hold on for just a bit more. If he gives in now, it’ll give Dave all the ego boost in the world. He’ll never live it down.

He looks up at the ginger, looking for an insult, but nothing comes to mind. Everything is fuzzy, except for one thing. The snarky bastard isn’t looking too composed himself. “You…you look pretty close.”

Dave’s breath hitches for a moment, a brief flash of surprise on his face. Damn him for catching onto that. But still, he scoffs, his hand reaching out to grip James’ chin tightly, fingers pressing into his jawline. “How about you shut that pretty mouth before I stuff my underwear into it?” The threat is honestly deeply arousing, and Dave mutters a quick curse, head tipping forward as he tries to gain his bearings, but the way James’ tip is consistently prodding at his prostate at the right angle has him nearly drooling.

The thought of Dave going through with that threat has his breath catching in his throat, a small, desperate sound escaping his lips. Even so, he still manages to regain a bit of his composure, trying to match Dave’s boldness and keep going. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” The Piltie is barely getting the words out, his chest heaving. “You think I’m pretty?”

Dave scoffs, but the small noise he lets out is a definite tell of just how much of an effect James is having on him, and it’s fueling the Piltie’s ego again. “No, I think you’re a whiny bastard.” He mutters, although the words are far too breathy to be taken seriously, his chest heaving as he leans in, resting his forehead on James’ shoulder. “But you’re a pretty good, I’ll give you that.”

The words make James shiver, the praise going straight to his head. And to his dick, which is still being used and bounced on like a toy by the ginger. He’s still a whining, whimpering mess, and he’s desperate to hold back and not let go just yet. James watches as Dave’s face scrunches up, head leaned back against the bed as he gazes at the ceiling, the sound of the headboard of the bed thumping against the wall.

Strong thighs tremble around James’ middle as Dave comes, white spend splattering conveniently over where his shirt had ridden up. He seizes tight around James, choking out a half-moan-half-whimper, trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Wasting not a single second to bask in the afterglow, he slides off James’ dick, reaching for his discarded underwear.

James is left reeling as Dave gets off him, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. He’s trying to process all of the things that just happened, his head spinning and his entire body feeling on fire with the overload of sensations. Dave is already back in his pants, straightening his clothes and trying to tame his messy hair.

“I didn’t come!” James hisses in protest, sitting up, feeling his cock throb with need. Dave gives an unsympathetic shrug, tossing him his clothes. “Too bad.”

Dave doesn’t look the slightest bit guilty, and the damn bastard is just as smugly self-satisfied as James knew he would be. The ginger glances down at his pants as he buckles his belt, his expression still infuriatingly smug and proud of himself.

“Better figure something else out to amuse yourself.” He mutters, taking another second to fix his hair to his liking before glancing back at James, his gaze going up and down his disheveled form with a final smug smirk, already half-out the room.

“Get yourself cleaned up, cupcake. We have shit to do.”

#n3wstxd #metallica #metallica smut #dave mustaine #james hetfield

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n3wstxd · 2 months ago

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HI AGAIN😍 Could you do Jason/Dave where Jason’s a megadeth groupie n Dave takes him backstage?? I love you btw pls never die🗣️

so sorry for the wait, also this was not proof read because i’m lazy so… hopefully there’s no bad errors.

LUCKY

1987

CW - teasing, riding, idk it’s pretty vanilla … but moves fast ;)

Dave’s had a bit of a crush on Jason.

And, who can blame him? Jason was perfectly sculpted, like he was a marble statue. Perfect curves. Perfect face. An angel on earth. His smile expertly crafted by a god.

It started when Flotsam opened for Megadeth just a few months ago. The two had talked about bands they enjoy, new albums and beer while smoking a hearty amount of weed. Jason’s weed was the good kind, the kind that made Dave’s mind go fuzzy while thinking of all the ways he could make Jason blush like a tomato. Dave can recall how his eyes seemed to always land places they shouldn’t when he looked back as Jason. Or how Jason didn’t seem to mind.

Ever since that night, he’s been keeping a close eye on Jason. Jase, as he’d call him.

Jase wasn’t busy for the next couple weeks, lucky Dave. Their lead vocalist was apparently real sick and wouldn’t be able to perform for a while. With too much time on his hands, Jason spent it by practicing his bass and calling Dave. Jason’s pretty sure Dave’s got feelings for him, so hearing Dave get flustered over the phone was pretty entertaining for the brunette. And, as it turns out, Megadeth was going on another tour as Jason would find out on one of their calls. Not a very big tour, but Dave’s got an idea nonetheless.

“I want you to come with.” Dave confessed over the phone.

“…Come with? On the tour? For what?”

There was really no reason for Jason to go. He would just be tagging along, doing nothing but watching. And, Megadeth was great and all, but he wasn’t a diehard fan. But when he looks around his room, seeing the baggies of weed on the floor and the stray CD cases, he remembers how lonely he’s been these past couple of days.

“I just want you there, okay? Do you wanna go or not?” Dave replies. There’s no true annoyance within him, but he makes it known he doesn’t want to debate forever.

Jason sighs.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll come with. Put on some good shows for me, and I’ll pay you back.”

He doesn’t specify what he’s gonna pay Dave back with. Weed? Beer? A blowie? Dave doesn’t ask, though he hopes for the latter. ‘Cause Jason’s got nice lips. Jason has nice everything, actually. Nice face, chest, hair, attitude, hands, legs, ass… Yeah. Dave’s screwed. At least he got Jason to agree to be a groupie.

“Don’t you worry about that. We’ll give you a damn good time.” Dave affirms. Jason can hear his smile through the phone.

Jason smiles back, and hangs up.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Dave’s more than right. Megadeth puts on a damn good show. Everyone played in perfect tandem with each other, every note and chord coming together to make flawless songs sound even better live. Jason even started to think like a fan did. He started thinking to himself things like “Wow, he looks even better up close!” Or “Damn, he looks hot as fuck like this!”

He really was like a groupie.

It didn’t take long for him to not only fall for Megadeth’s whole discography, but Dave himself. Sure, he’d found himself intrigued by Dave after the first Megadeth show he’d seen. Spending more time with him and getting to see that sweet smile, though? It had his heart clenching. He was no different from Dave, finding himself absolutely smitten with the ginger.

Dave was lucky he was pretty. And talented. Pretty and talented. But Dave could have any gay guy or straight girl he wanted, and he chose Jason, so perhaps Jason was the lucky one. Getting Dave Mustaine to fall in love with you was no easy task; the bassist wasn’t sure how he’d done it, but wasn’t complaining. And when Dave’s shredding, trying to focus, and still makes time to look Jason in the eyes while he’s in the crowd, he knows Dave really is in love with him.

They meet eyes multiple times. There’s something in those hazel eyes of Dave’s that seems to be more than just focus or love. It takes a few moments to realize it’s lust. Jason almost doesn’t believe it, but it’s hard to deny when Dave’s shooting him intense looks every 10 seconds with a dark look in his eyes. Jason grips the railing harder. It’s their last song. The bassist knows Dave will go straight to him after they finish the melody, which happens to be Jason’s current favorite from Megadeth— Peace Sells.

The ripping ending chords ring out, and cheers erupt from fans in the crowd. Jason finds himself smiling and cheering as well. Dave says his thanks to the crowd before the band makes a swift exit.

Jason knows exactly where Dave wants him to go.

The crowd starts to dissipate. Jason’s heart thumps in his chest, excitedly pushing through the crowd so he can greet and congratulate Dave and the band on their amazing show. That boy was hyper, and it showed. Curly brown hair bounced as he ran while pushing through the crowd. Since he was close to the front, it didn’t take long for him to finally get to the stage. The closing music boomed through the speakers as Jason searched for the ginger.

A tap on his shoulder signaled that Dave had found him first. The bassist whipped around, startled, but immediately relaxed when he realized it was Dave. A small smile played on his thin lips, and his grey eyes stare into his hazel ones. Dave’s obviously sweaty and tired from the show, but that won’t stop him from doing what he does later.

“You scared me, Dave.”

“Did I, now?”

Jason smiles harder. Dave’s voice did that to him.

“Yeah. Good show, by the way.”

Dave smirks. He’s got a cocky look on that smug face of his, ‘cause he knows he can give Jason an even better show backstage. If he’ll let him, that is. It shouldn’t be too hard to get into Jason’s pants. Dave can sense Jason likes Dave more than he lets on, and won’t have any more of that. The ginger wants to see Jason head over heels for him— not acting nonchalant.

“Just good?” Dave asks.

“Pretty good.”

“Just pretty good?”

“Alright, alright. It was an amazing show. That what you wanted to hear?”

Dave laughs.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now get your ass backstage, groupie.”

Did Dave just really refer to him as groupie? Jason feels his cheeks flush a light pink at the comment. He isn’t sure if it’s from being a little offended, or if it’s from embarrassment. He has a name. Dave just wanted to tease him. Wanted to see that flustered look on his face before he snatched his hand and dragged him into a dressing room.

Slamming the door, Dave’s eyes lock onto Jason’s. The bassist is understandably a bit confused and flustered. The broken fan in the corner spews a cranky, winded noise in a strange rhythm as the two share a quick moment of silence. Dave’s the first to speak up, noticing how Jason can’t tell if his body wants to tense or relax when Dave moves closer to him.

“You have no idea how hard you were making it for me to focus.”

The guitarist has a lower voice than he did outside. Jason already knows the lust from earlier is seeping into his words. Like it never left. Because it didn’t— how were you supposed to keep it chill when you had the prettiest boy in the scene staring at you with stars in his eyes? Jason looked nothing short of beautiful and sweet. Dave wanted nothing more than to see him absolutely ruined. To see spit dribbling from his mouth and onto his white shirt. To see his cock hard and needy, all for Dave.

He couldn’t help the twitch in his pants thinking about what he wanted to do to Jase.

Everything was moving so fast. One moment ago, Dave was playing guitar for hundreds of fans. Now, he was straining himself trying not to pounce on the bassist in front of him. He felt like a starved man looking at that sexy bastard and his pink, shy face. Surely he must know how hungry Dave’s been for him, right? Surely he knows. There’s no possible way for Jason to be oblivious to the fact that Dave would pay his life savings to get a piece of that ass. And yet here Jason is, saying he didn’t know.

“I didn’t mean to make you lose focus.. I didn’t know.”

Dave draws closer, the space between them becoming more and more blurred.

“You sure, Jase? You seem like the type to tease.”

Dave lifts up Jason’s chin with his hand, boring his gaze into the other. Jason didn’t look away. He stared right back. The tension in the air rises, getting thicker. Jason feels his heart rate pick up and his cheeks start to warm. He hopes to god that things will go the way he thinks they’ll go.

Jason’s lucky.

Dave smashes his lips into the other’s. Jason doesn’t push back or fight it, just lets Dave take over and kiss him like a starved teenager. It gets messy; even a little painful, with how their teeth are clashing together accidentally. It’s uncoordinated and disorganized, but fuck if they both didn’t love it. Dave’s lips are all over that boy’s mouth, practically eating his face as they fall backwards on to the couch behind them, not missing a beat.

To say Dave was good at making out was an understatement. If you liked it rough and dirty, you’d like it with Dave. Jason didn’t just like it rough. He loved it. He loved the way those pink lips smeared across his own. The way his teeth got in the way and his tongue slipped inside without a warning. Everything was a perfect concoction, ready to explode. Jason’s already twitching and getting stiff in his tight blue jeans as they clumsily make out.

Spit threatens to dribble down Jason’s lip as his feels a warm hand on his thigh. He squirms, feeling Dave pull back for a moment and smirk against him. Jason’s chest rises and falls quickly and desperately. Dave’s got him wrapped around his finger, and he thought he would be the one in charge. The guitarist’s hand on Jason’s thigh squeezes lightly. His thumb makes small movements up and down his clothed leg, as if he were petting him, and deepens the kiss yet again.

Jason whines, bucking his hips into nothing. Tight jeans once flat now have a noticeable, warm bulge, thanks to the brunette’s erection. Dave’s excited to give Jase what he wants; and he’s equally excited to give himself what he needs. The ginger’s also already worked up a full boner and can’t help keeping it away from Jason much longer. So, he pulls back, spit dripping from the guitarist’s lips, and looks at Jason with deep hunger in his eyes.

“I’ve waited so long for this..” Dave rasps, his hands coming to undo his own belt.

His fingers make fast work of the belt, which hits the ground with a clank. Jason’s leaned back on the beat up couch, watching in awe as Dave undresses himself hastily. It’s obvious to Jason that he’s needy and wants to waste no time at all, but he can’t say much. He’s just as desperate for the warmth and pleasure Dave’s gonna give them. And as Dave finishes removing his shirt, Jason feels his needs increase tenfold. The ginger smirks at the quiet whine that leaves Jason’s lips.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make you feel real good soon.” Dave promised.

“Please…” Was all Jason could croak out.

Dave was left in only his boxers. A prominent tent proudly stands in his plaid underwear, showing off how much he could really grow. Jason stares. His staring doesn’t last. Dave’s already closing the distance between them again, this time, his clothed cock an inch away from the bassist’s. Jason’s breath catches in his throat and he attempts to push their cocks together, but Dave is quick to shove him back. Jason whines again, this time sounding more needy and defeated.

“No. If you really wanna feel my dick against you, you’re gonna have to beg. Or I’ll just jack off in front of ya and make you watch.”

“B-but-“

“I don’t wanna hear your voice if you aren’t begging.”

The brunette knows he’s serious. Jason’s got pride, but it fades away when he’s submissive like this. Jason isn’t usually put into submission this easily— but Dave is hot as hell and he wants to let him take over and make him feel good. His last bit of dignity is thrown away when he looks up at Dave with those big gray puppy eyes and starts to beg.

“…Please.” Jason whimpers.

“Please what?”

“Please.. fuck, please, Dave, please, let me rub against you, need it… need it so bad…”

Dave smirks.

“Yeah? Is that right? Fine then. Go ahead, make yourself feel good.”

Jason wastes no time shoving Dave closer to meet cocks. His tip meets the other’s tip, earning a mutual groan from them both. They hump into each other, hips thrusting, and it doesn’t take long for Dave to get tired of Jason’s jeans. The friction of the rough fabric is nice, but when his cock is so tucked away, he can’t help but want more than what he’s offered. Pleasure rushes through them both for a short amount of time before Dave is nearly ripping Jason’s jeans off and tossing them to the ground before forcing both of their cocks out of their boxers.

“Dave….”

Jason’s hand shakily creeps up to their two warm erections and presses them together with a smooth motion. Dave hisses, the palm and length of Jason sending a ripple of pleasure through him. A trembling exhale leaves Jason’s mouth and he begins jerking them off together. It starts slow, Jason taking his time getting the rhythm nice and steady. He might’ve mentally compared himself to a drummer keeping tempo like a dork if he wasn’t groaning and tensing from the feeling of jerking off his friend against him.

Moans intertwine with moans and sweat starts to bead on their foreheads. Dave’s letting Jason work their pulsing erections together while also fucking into his palm. It’s about now when Dave realizes he didn’t lock the door— only slammed it shut when he was ready to drain Jason dry. This doesn’t stop him, though, as he lets his vocal cords only ring out in sweet moans instead of words telling Jason there’s a chance they might get caught. The thought surprisingly excites the ginger and he speeds up his hips, making Jason follow suit.

Jason’s free hand grips the back pillow of the couch, fingers digging deep, feeling pure bliss. Sure, he’s frotted with other guys before, but being with Dave makes it all the better. And Dave’s got an impressive length and girth, so rubbing against that feels like heaven. Jason thinks maybe he really could just die and ascend from how horny and pleasured he’s feeling, but all the sudden, Dave abruptly removes his dick from Jason. Jason cries out confused words, saying No, no, please— until Dave cuts him off.

“Shhh, shh, stop your whining, just hold on. Lemme give you something better.” Dave coos.

Jason watches as Dave reaches behind himself and pulls out a plug. Confused, he looks at the metallic plug, then back at Dave. The plug is covered in slick lube, like a whole bottle has been poured on it. Dave tilts his head, smiles, and tosses the plug. Jason can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“Did- did you really.. fuck, there’s no way..” Jason sputters.

“Sure did, honey. I kept it in me the whole show.”

Jason’s mouth goes dry. He really kept that inside him? The whole time? In front of all those people? There’s no way. There’s no possible way, Jason thinks, but when Dave hovers over him, sticky lube from his hole dribbling onto Jason’s cock, he has to suspend his disbelief. The bassist isn’t really sure this is happening; this has to be some sort of wet dream. Dave Mustaine, yes, The Dave Mustaine, is ready to ride him into next week after keeping a plug inside of him for hours and preparing himself just for Jason. Fuck. Fuck, that’s really hot.

“I….” Jason gulps.

“Gonna keep staring, or should I put it in?”

“Please, god, put it in.”

And so he does.

Dave carefully sinks onto Jason, wincing. His trusty plug kept him nice and stretched, but Jason’s got a big cock. Slowly but surely, he takes Jason to the hilt, and bottoms out. They both pant, chests heaving, and Jason gets zero warning before Dave lifts himself almost completely off before slamming back down and creating a brutal pace. The bassist arches his back and groans loudly. Warm, slick walls clench on to his dick as Dave shudders. Dave’s ass turns Jason into an absolute wreck within 10 seconds.

“Dave, Dave, fuck, fuck!” He cries out. His hands find Dave’s shoulders and push downwards, helping Dave grind Jason’s tip against his prostate.

Dave snickers, watching Jason fall apart in no time. Through his quiet giggles of amusement, his own sounds of pleasure began to seep through as Jason tries to aim for his prostate. He just barely nudges it a few times, which gets a particularly high pitched sound out of the guitarist. Dave finds Jason’s attempt at pleasuring him cute. Already trying to make Dave feel good, just like the good boy he is. Jason’s always been a sweet boy. Dave’s giggles die down and he softly smiles at the boy beneath him before readjusting. When Jason thrusts up into him now, he finds that special spot and hits it straight on. Dave stutters, a louder groan leaving his mouth, and Jason makes it a personal challenge to hit that spot with every thrust.

The brunette’s dick rubbing against that bundle of nerve in Dave has him reeling, body trembling and thighs spasming. The big, bad Mustaine is nearly drooling over another guy’s dick inside of him. It should be embarrassing, because it’s wrong, Dave knows, but he can’t help himself. He can’t help his hips coming up and down, riding Jason like a damn horse. Dave mentally thanks himself for keeping the plug in. As much as he would love to feel those thick fingers prodding inside of him, he doesn’t think he would’ve been patient enough for prep. And, the occasional pleasure of the egg-shaped object was nice, even if it was embarrassing.

But nothing compares to the feeling of Jason inside him. He didn’t think it would make him feel so euphoric, having the boy rut in him. Jason’s obviously feeling it too with how he’s moaning like a girl in a porn film. Long eyelashes on Jason’s pretty face flutter as he sweats and grinds. They’ve both had their way with plenty of girls before, but nothing is quite like having sex with the other. Nothing really compares to Dave’s soft, tight walls or Jason’s embarrassingly hot length.

They’re both thankful they’ve got a piece of each other. Jason’s hands slowly move from Dave’s shoulders to claw at his back, making Dave moan a winded whimper from the back of his throat. His cock is hard and leaking, twitching as he slips up and down Jason’s erection. The sound of the room is disgustingly erotic from the combined noises of the two whimpering and moaning along with the slick noises of Dave’s hole moving against Jason— it turns Dave on so much that he bites his lip, screws his eyes closed, and before he knows it, cum is spurting out of his cock, all over Jason.

The bassist nearly screams from the way Dave clenches around him when he cums, and immediately follows after him. Warm semen fills the ginger to the brim. The sticky substance squirts against Dave’s prostate, making him clench even harder, and Jason thinks his dick might break off from how hard he’s being squeezed. Nonetheless, it furthers both of their orgasms and brings them to even higher highs.

After a few seconds, Dave collapses on top of Jason, cock still in his hole. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath. He forgot about the loud booming music outside and the awkward noise of the fan, and he realizes he’s slowly being brought back into reality. Dizzy, Jason’s trembling hand slithers up to Dave’s hair and gives it a soft ruffle.

“Please don’t let this be a one time thing.”

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n3wstxd · 2 months ago

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Hi there!

I have a request based on some of the crazy comments I've read so many times. So, Lars (in 80s or 90s) somehow comes across the comments like 'It should be Lars, not Cliff' and becomes really upset. He is utterly devastated because of the hate he gets, one day James notices it (finds him crying after the rehearsal) and comforts him, so Lars gets all the TLC he deserves 🥰

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 - 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

warnings: angst, self-hating speech, comfort, Lars deserves better, James is actually nice

more under the cut :)

Lars is distraught.

They’re right. It should have been him. Cliff should be there, up on stage. In the studio. In the photoshoots. He shouldn’t be here in Cliff’s place, hanging out with his bandmates and smiling and doing whatever it is that he does.

It should have been him.

He tosses the magazine across his room and towards his door, burying his face in his hands. There’s a gentle ‘oof�� in place of the magazine hitting wood, and his head snaps up. James stands in his open doorway, magazine rumpled at his feet.

James is looking at Lars, and he can tell right away something’s going on. He walks over to Lars, and steps over the magazine. He sits next to his friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Lars? You okay?” He asks, his voice softer than normal.

Lars just leans his head on James’ shoulder, keeping his eyes closed. He doesn’t want James to see him like this. Soft, emotional, crying…Lars was none of those things. He’s just…tired. He’s tired.

James glances at Lars, his grip tightening slightly. “Hey, talk to me. You know you can—”James starts, but cut off by Lars’ voice.

“Stop talking.” It’s soft, but demanding. Still, James stays silent, and just rubs small circles on Lars shoulders.

“It should have been me.”

James’ hand freezes for a moment, before he starts rubbing small circles again. “…What?” He finally asks, trying to seem as calm as possible. He’s never seen Lars like this before, never.

“It should have been me. Cliff should be here. With you guys. Not—”

Lars cuts himself off. His voice is thick, he’s pretty sure he’s going to cry and he really doesn’t want to but he can’t help it. He’s been holding this in for so long, and he doesn’t think he can do it anymore. All that emotional distress and frustration has built up, ready to explode.

Oh.

James is silent for a moment, as he processes everything, and it becomes apparent—Lars is crying. Something in James’ chest clenches, and he tightens his grip, pulling his best friend into his lap like a small child.

He holds Lars against him, and feels the Dane shake as he holds back from really letting go. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” James soothes in a comforting voice, pulling him against his chest, rubbing small circles on his back and running his fingers through the younger’s hair.

“I’m glad you’re still here.”

These words are enough to push Lars over the edge, and he buries his face in James’ chest, letting the first few sobs come out. It takes a moment for him to gain enough control to speak, and when he does, his voice is hoarse, thick. “I miss him so much. He should be here.”

Hearing these words makes James clutch Lars tighter, and his heart aches. “I know, I know. So do I, Lars. I miss him all the time, but he’d want you here. I need you here.” He’s practically cradling the younger man in his arms now, murmuring quietly, trying to soothe him.

Another sob wracks through Lars, and he’s clutching onto James’ shirt, still burying his face in his chest, in an attempt to shield himself from the world. He doesn’t care if he’s acting like a child right now, he needs this comfort and he needs James’ comfort, and god, he just misses Cliff so much.

He just keeps holding Lars, rubbing his back and murmuring words of support—even though it hurts. James misses their bassist as much as Lars does, but for him to see his friend so broken just breaks his heart. “I know, I know. I want him back too. I would switch places with him in a heartbeat, if I could.”

And there it is again. The ‘I would switch places’. It makes something snap in Lars, and he looks up at James, eyes red and face stained with tears. “Why don’t you?!” He pulls away from James’ shirt, his eyes red and puffy. His head is still resting against the younger man’s chest, and he lets out a shaky breath, dragging his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry.”

James is taken aback by the sudden outburst, and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Why don’t I what..?” He says, tilting his head and studying Lars’s face. “You don’t have to apologise, man. It’s okay. You’re not yourself right now.” James gently wipes a tear on the side of Lars’ face. Just seeing his normally cheerful, happy-go-lucky friend like this feels so wrong.

James’ hand lingers on his cheek, and Lars closes his reddened eyes, leaning into his touch. He hates this. Hates that Cliff is gone. Hates that people think he should’ve been the one to go. And hates that because of this James is stuck having to comfort him.

He lets out another shaky breath, opening his eyes again and looking up at James—and there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that’s rare coming from Lars. He never lets himself be this vulnerable, always keeping up the tough image, but he’s tired. He’s tired of keeping it all inside. And he wants to lash out, and scream and yell; that none of them should have gone, not Cliff, not any of them. But the expression on James’ face causes his heart to pang, and he looks away as fresh tears fall from his eyes.

James’ heart clenches again, and he gently grabs Lars’ chin, tilting his head so the Dane’s eyes are focused on him again. “Listen to me. Okay? I know you’re upset. I know.” James says, softly but firmly. “Don’t say that bullshit that you should’ve died instead, because that’s bullshit and you know it. Cliff loved you. We all do. We need you here. I need you here.”

“But everyone thinks, they all say that they wished I—“

James immediately cuts off Lars, his grip on his chin tightening ever so slightly. “I don’t want to hear that. That’s all lies and bullshit. Okay? You’re here, alive and kicking. And you’ll stay that way.”

Lars lets out a soft whimper, and James’ eyes soften as his friend tries to hold back another sob. The guitarist pulls the younger man closer to him, one of his hands coming up to gently card through the younger man’s hair. “I would never wish you’d died, okay? I wish none of this ever happened, but I wouldn’t change the fact that you’re alive. That you’re here with me right now, in my arms. Okay?”

Lars lets out a shaky breath, trying to focus on the soothing hand running through his hair. He hates this. He never cries, he’s not an emotional person, and yet here he is, breaking down in the arms of his best friend.

A long moment of silence passes, all that can be heard in the room Lars’ shaky breathing and occasional sniffle. Then..

“Can you just stay with me?”

James immediately nods, tightening his grip on Lars. “Of course. I’m staying right here with you. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to.” He moves to lay down on the bed, pulling Lars down with him, and gently guides the other man’s head to lay on his chest.

Lars lets out a soft sigh, burying his face in James’ chest once more, and lets his eyes flutter close. The sound of James’ heartbeat is oddly comforting, and slowly the tension seems to melt out of his shoulders. “Don’t go.” He mumbles, his voice thick with tears.

“I’m not going anywhere.” James soothes gently, his hand moving to rest on the small of Lars’ back as he lets the other man bury his face in his chest. He rests his chin on the top of Lars’ head, and lets his mind wander to Cliff. He doesn’t doubt for a second that the bassist is probably laughing at them from the afterlife.

A soft, almost inaudible scoff of a chuckle comes from Lars at that thought, the first sign of emotion other than despair and misery. He can hear the smile in James’ voice, and he focuses on the sound of the other man’s steady heartbeat, using it to keep himself somewhat grounded. For a few moments, the only sounds are the faint voices of Jason and Kirk, as well as the ever soft thudding of James’ heart.

“Hey…what do you think Kirk and…the new kid are doing?”

A small chuckle comes from James, as he continues combing his fingers through Lars’ hair. “Probably plotting another prank. He’s been causing nothing but trouble since we picked the new kid up. I swear, they share a brain cell.”

Lars lets out another small scoff, shifting his head on James’ chest, closing his eyes. It’s moments like this where he wishes he could stay forever, wrapped up in the embrace of the older man’s arm, listening to the thrumming, comforting sound of his heartbeat.

For the first time in a long while, Lars feels…safe. Protected. Which is ironic, considering it’s James he’s curled up against.

James doesn’t say anything, just continues combing his fingers through the younger man’s hair, the other resting on the small of his back. He can feel as Lars relaxes against him, becoming fully pliant as he just…lays there in his arms. James’ mind drifts to the days when it would’ve been Cliff in his arms instead, and he closes his own eyes, swallowing around the lump that’s formed in his throat.

Lars slowly lets his eyes close, and he focuses in on the soft thudding of James’ heartbeat. In the comfortable silence, the soft thumping is nearly a lullaby to Lars as he feels his eyes grow heavy—and he can’t remember the last time he’s felt this relaxed. He feels as the guitarist’s fingers move through his hair, the light touch like a gentle caress.

He hasn’t felt this peaceful in months. It’s almost enough for him to forget about the grief, about Cliff.

As sleep claims him, tugging his eyelids lower and lower with each slow blink, everything becomes white noise around him.

For a while he can only stare down at the younger man in his arms, his chest tightening. As it normally does when he sees Lars.

Lars drifts off into sleep, the rise and fall of the younger man’s chest against his own is oddly soothing to James. The tension in his shoulders slowly starts to melt out, replaced by a warm, calming comfort. He lets out a sigh, looking down at Lars. The guy is a handful to deal with, but god knows he loves the little bastard.

James waits another minute, just to make sure the younger man is fully passed out, before speaking in a soft voice. “I miss you, Cliff.”

And it’s as if he’s expecting a response, even a half-assed one. But of course the silence hangs thick in the air, an uncomfortable, suffocating blanket over him. Despite this, James continues.

“I know you’re probably over there, laughing at us. Making fun of us.”

Cliff would have found all of this downright hysterical.

He can easily imagine the older man’s response if he was there. Are you two cuddling without me? I’m hurt.

The thought brings a soft, sad smile to his lips. He misses the bassist. He misses his best friend.

The silence that follows, save from Lars’ soft breathing and the faint voices of Kirk and Jason downstairs, seems to confirm that he’s alone.

But James drifts off to dreamland, he swears he can hear a whisper right by his ear, just faintly, almost as if it’s a memory long forgotten. Cliff’s voice, gentle as the breeze, a caress against his cheek lighter than a feather.

I know.

And maybe, just maybe, everything might be alright.

#n3wstxd #metallica #lars ulrich #james hetfield #jlars

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