#metallica x oc

[cryptic--writing]

hihi!

this is for @mustainegf writing comp- I've never written fanfiction (let alone smut) before so i hope this isn't too terrible

(also ik the pic is MOP era but its the only pic of them in the snow with cliff so pretend its RTL era)

word count: 4,334

warnings: fluff, eventual smut (it takes awhile), kissing, really awkward moments, reader blushes way too much and is too nervous around james

𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝙄𝘾𝙀 (1985 james)

Every so often, my brother, Lars, would allow me to join him and his band, Metallica, on tour. This was one of those every so oftens as the band traveled to our home country, Denmark. I always enjoyed these times traveling with him. I loved the scenes and the music, but, I mostly looked for to getting to spend time with one of his closest friends, James. 

This stop of the tour was a longer one, instead of the regular show-and-go, the five of us were going to spend the weekend here in our place of childhood, Gentofte Municipality, Denmark. We were able to muster the money to rent a 2 bedroom cabin, which wasn't too convenient with five of us planning to stay there the full weekend. 

As much as it would've joyed me to share a bed with James, I knew it would've been awkward for not just us, but the whole band, so I took the couch in the end. Lars and James would share one of the rooms, and Kirk and Cliff in the other. 

The cabin was slightly cramped, for five people at least. The scenery was beautiful, a perfect, homey, and cozy feeling.

It was the second day of our time here, so the place had grown quite messy due to the boy's frequent drinking and rowdy behavior. They had performed the night prior, so the fridge was empty, with nothing to eat or drink.

It was nearing 8 PM, and we were all thirsty and hungry for something to eat.

We were all sitting in the messy living room, scattered with empty cans and bottles of beer with chip bags scattered about as well.

“The storm is only gonna get worse, we should go get something before the stores close.”  Lars finally decided, glancing around the other four of us, who all collectively nodded.

“I’ll go with you, I need to get out anyways, it's too tight in here.” Kirk agreed, standing up to grab the keys of the rental car we had gotten.

“You guys wanna go?” Lars questioned James, Cliff, and I. 

Cliff nodded, standing with a sigh, “Uhm, sure I guess, I’ll go.”

“James? You gonna come?” Lars asked again, to which James shook his head.

“You think I’d go out in that shit? No, I'll stay in here.” He said with a scoff.

Lars nodded with a sigh, “Alright, you?”

I shook my head, “Nah, I'm good.” I said, my tone slightly hesitant.

Lars nodded, saying goodbye as he walked out with the other two, heading towards the car.

It seemed that with them leaving, the room felt hotter, even with missing three bodies. I wasn't paying much attention, my eyes absentmindedly staring at James.

The two of us had never really had time alone, it was always with Lars or the whole band there. I watched as he fidgeted with his thumbs before standing up and walking towards the window, my eyes following his every move.

I didn't think he could see me staring, as I never made it too obvious, but he could feel my eyes boring into him. 

“Storm is only getting rougher out there, it's gonna be a mess when they come back,” James observed, though his words were just an absent hum as I was lost in my thoughts, staring at the man I had been crushing on since I met him. 

My eyes traced each of his features, studying how his messy, long, curly blonde mane draped on his back and shoulders, his muscular frame, and his strong jaw. My thoughts began to wander, too far maybe, thinking of how his bangs would cover his sweat-coated forehead, his muscles twitching as he groaned while.

“Hello? Did you hear me?” His words quickly snapped me out of my thoughts as he caught my eyes with his own. 

I paused, “Uhm.. yeah, what were you talking about?” I said, my face heating, a small pink on my cheeks as he held eye contact with me from across the room.

He rolled his eyes, “I said that the storm outside is getting pretty bad. The guys may struggle to get back before everything freezes. Were you even listening?” 

I nodded, “Yeah, totally, just.. spaced out a bit..” I said, my tone slightly embarrassed. 

I was such a terrible liar, I hadn't even heard a word the man had said. I was too lost in the thoughts of him.

James sighed, walking back towards the couch and sitting next to me.

“Kinda cold in here, don't you think?” He asked, glancing at me as I kicked the blanket off of myself.

Cold? How is he cold? My body feels like it's on fire! With this proximity, just the two of us? How could he be cold?

“Do you dislike questions or something? Or is it me?” He teased me for not responding to his questions for the second time.

“No, sorry, just.. thinking, I guess,” I paused, trying to remember what we were talking about in the first place, “Uh, no, I don't find it too cold. It's kinda hot in here.” I said, my eyes once again wandering to him, though avoiding his own.

“Hot? It's like, 54 degrees in here, it's cold!” He said with a soft laugh.

I shrugged, god how I loved his laugh, so soft and sweet. I forced an answer, “Uh, yeah. Maybe I just need some fresh air outside..” I said, slowly standing up. I could feel his eyes follow me until I reached the front door, though it wouldn't budge. I pushed the door harder, though still, the door didn't open.

“The door is stuck,” I said, giving the door another push.

James stood, walking towards the door, standing closely behind me before gently moving me out of his way and to the side with his hands. I felt my skin burn where he touched, my face turning slightly red. He gave the door a push with all of his body weight, though still, the door wouldn't move.

James moved the curtain away from the window, seeing nothing but white snow. He scoffed in annoyance and surprise, “Seems like we're snowed in.” He stepped back, shrugging his shoulders.

I let out an annoyed groan. Now I truly was stuck in this home with him. The thought always excited me, as I would dream of getting time alone with him. But now that it's in fruition, I couldn't be more embarrassed and nervous. The snow most likely wouldn't be gone until tomorrow afternoon. How would I last with him?

He sighed, sitting down on the couch, and picking  up the blanket I had kicked onto the floor, “You gonna use it?” James asked, watching me as I walked towards him and sat down next to him again.

I shook my head, “Nope, go for it.” I said, keeping a respectable half-foot between us. As much as I’d love to snuggle up to him, I'm not sure if he would.

He laughed softly again, the sound making butterflies flutter in my stomach, “This blanket isn't too warm. How did you and Lars survive living here for more than a few days? It's like the Arctic here!” 

I gave a small laugh and shrugged at his comment, “I'm not sure, guess we just.. adapted.”

James smiled lightly, “I like your laugh, it's.. cute.” He admitted softly, causing me to feel like my face was on fire.

The butterflies were no longer fluttering, but fighting and dancing with each other to get out. I had to force myself to speak, or think. “Oh, uhm..” The words wouldn't come out, I felt like an idiot.

This moment felt like years and years, though it was thirty seconds. Though, James beat me to speak.

“I'm sorry, did I say something wrong? I didn't mean it like that if that's-” He said guiltily before I cut him off,

“No, no, sorry, just, spaced out again. Thank you.” My words were rushed and embarrassed. I still couldn't get over the compliment. It wasn't even a real compliment, just a comment on my laugh.

The room had an awkward, uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. I felt like I could start sweating, which I did. A small bead of sweat formed on my forehead, which I wiped away.

“Why are you sweating? It's cold in here.” James questioned me, which I shook my head in response to.

“No, I'm fine,” I mumbled out, fidgeting with my thumbs.

James nodded, “Alright, well, if you aren't, then I'll turn on the heater if you don't mind.” He said, already walking towards the heater.

I sighed, nodding and forcing a smile, maybe he didn't feel how I did about him, “Sure, go ahead.”

He pushed buttons on the thermostat, trying to get it to turn on, grumbling a few ‘cmons’ to himself as he tried to heat the cabin, which failed. He groaned in annoyance,

“The damn thing won't work! I'm gonna freeze to death in here!” He complained, which he seemed to do a lot of.

I was starting to cool down, even though my face was still slightly warm. Was I really that needy for him? Pathetic.

James sat back down on the couch, though leaving no gap like how I had. The heat of my face began to build again, only after a short break of peace. He stretched his arms out, his long, strong arms across the top of the couch, like how they did in cheesy rom-com. 

His fingers brushed my shoulder, making me tense slightly. He had to know what he was doing. As if he knew how I felt, he moved even closer, our legs now touching, even with his blanket on his legs. I glanced up at him, catching his gaze. Was he staring at me? I didn't know if I should say something, but holding eye contact like this, this close, just felt.. Weird. It was something I had only dreamed of, except my dreams were never this awkward.

“What's up?” I forced myself to ask, dying to break the awkward silence.

James shrugged, “Nothing, just..” He trailed off, his eyes still on mine.

I could feel a change in the air, no longer friendly, but now with a hint of something more. 

I couldn't take my eyes off of him, he was so captivating, and he couldn't let go of my eyes either. 

Eventually, I couldn't stand the tension, deciding that it'd be best if I started to get ready for bed. “Uhm, I'm gonna start getting ready and put on my pajamas,” I said softly, breaking my eyes away from his as I got up and walked towards the bathroom.

James nodded, “Alright.” He acknowledged, waiting for me to return as his eyes followed me until I vanished into the bathroom.

I stood in there, staring at the mirror. For once I felt the coldness James was talking about. Maybe it was the room, maybe it was the tension, or maybe it was how I felt for him truly bubbling to the surface. I've always had a massive crush on him, but we've only had maybe 4 conversations alone that had nothing to do with the band or Lars. 

I took a deep breath, quickly changing out of my sweatpants and t-shirt island into a tank top and shorts, which was not practical for weather like this, but it's what I had. I opened the door and stepped out into the living room. I was freezing and didn't see James, which confused me.

“In here,” James called out from Lars and his room. I spun around, walking down the short hallway and into the doorway, seeing him sitting on the bed in a shirt and sleep pants. I was shivering slightly, the cold air stinging my skin for the first time since the rest of the band had left. It was a relief, though I quickly got tired of the cold.

“Ya cold? You're shaking a bit.” James noticed, and I could feel his eyes raking over my now more revealed figure.

I was never one to wear smaller, skimpier clothes, so this was a sight few got to see, and I never expected James Hetfield, my crush of 3 years to see me like this. I still handt answered and a few seconds had passed. I shrugged with a nod, 

“Yeah, a bit,” I admitted, crossing my arms on my chest as I tried to rub my hands up and down my arms to warm myself up.

“Maybe I could. Warm you up a bit?” He asked, slightly hesitant. His eyes didn't meet mine, as they were too busy tracing my figure.

I froze a bit. There were so many ways to interpret that. A blanket? Warm drink? Cuddling? Making out? Or even-

“Like cuddling, or, if you don't want to it's fine.” He muttered, embarrassed that he even asked.

I nodded, a small blush creeping up on my cheeks, “Oh, uh, sure, yeah..” I agreed softly, walking towards him as he moved across the bed, lying down, and getting under the covers. I sat down on the bed, giving him a glance at the question, which he didn't answer, but I took it as a yes. I lay down next to him, moving closer, feeling his arms wrap around my waist, making my face burn up again. James pressed his chest against my back, I could feel every muscle of his against my back, my heart beating faster.

“You ok? You seem tense.” James questioned me, and he was right, I don't think I’ve ever been more nervous and excited at once.

“No, I'm fine,” I muttered. Though, he wanted to test that. It was almost like he knew that he was the source of the tension in my body. He moved closer, pressing himself against me, making me burn red in my cheeks, and my heart beat faster if that was even possible.

“Am I bothering you? I'm not that scary, I promise.” He teased me.

I tensed slightly at his teasing, how could I ever play this down? It was clear he knew what he was doing, and it was driving me crazy.

“No, I'm fine, James,” I muttered, my words rushed.

He chuckled softly at my reaction, leaning his face closer to the back of my neck, his warm breath causing goosebumps. It was getting harder to deny what he was doing was having a major effect on me. His lips ghosted the back of my neck, making me bite back a whine of need, feeling heat pool between my kegs.

As much as I had dreamt of this moment, god, it was torturous. 

After another minute of his teasing, I couldn't take any more of it. I rolled onto my side, now facing him, my eyes meeting his. He gave a sly smirk, which only seemed to irritate me. We stared at each other for what felt like years, though it was mere seconds. Slowly, I leaned into him, pressing a soft, gentle, and loving kiss to his lips, and he reciprocated. This was something I had only ever dreamed of. 

The kiss felt like hours, though it was brief. We pulled back from each other, our eyes meeting, a small smile on both of our lips.

“You aren't great at hiding your feelings, you know?” James teased me. I rolled my eyes,

“Oh shut up, James,” I mumbled against his lips before kissing him again, this time with more need and freedom.

He nipped at my bottom lip, asking for entrance which I allowed, and what was once an awkward night on the couch changed into a steamy makeout session in bed.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as he tangled his fingers in my hair.

The moment only grew more intense, a plethora of soft moans and groans escaping our lips. I had never felt so alive, so good.

We began to run out of breath, pulling away and gasping for breath. James pulled me on top of his, kissing him again. 

No words left our mouths, just filthy noises as we ravished each other's mouths. I straddled his hips with my legs, making him groan as I hovered above him. He pulled away from the kiss, staring up at me in awe,

“God, you're something else..” He mumbled, snaking his hands under my tanktop, pulling it over my head, exposing my breaths, my nipples hardening at the cold air, making me shiver slightly as goosebumps rose on my skin.

He groaned at the sigh, his hands reaching up to toy with them, making me moan softly, causing him to smirk, “You sound so pretty..” He murmured, squeezing them and pinching my nipples making me squeal.

I reached my hands down towards his shoulders, trailing my fingers down to the hem of his shirt, taking it off of him and seeing his sculpted body, making me blush at the sight. 

I had never imagined that this trip would lead to this, but I was loving every minute of it. 

My eyes roamed over his chest, taking in the sight I dreamed of. He noticed my staring, giving me a teasing grin,

“What? See something you like?” He teased me with that stupid grin. I rolled my eyes, moving off his lap so I could remove his pants, dragging them down his legs to reveal his hardness pressing against his boxers, making me smirk a little at the sight. 

I couldn't help but tease him a little, similar to how he did me, gently tracing the outline of it with my finger, making him groan at my touch, light as a feather. 

He adjusted, sitting up more, leaving me with better access as I snaked between his legs, continuing to toy with him, darting my tongue out, tracing along the fabric, earning me a much louder groan.

“You're cruel..” He groaned out, gripping my hair. I chuckled at his complaints and groans,

“You were doing the same thing to me just a bit ago..” I teased him back in response, which he wasn't pleased with, groaning again as he tightened the grip on my hair.

After a few more minutes of torturing him, milking him of his whines and groans before pulling away, admiring the wet spot now clearly evident on his boxers. I glanced up at him, wanting to make sure he wanted to do this.

“Are you sure?” I asked though I was praying full-heartedly that he'd say yes.

He nodded, “Fuck yes Im sure, hurry up..” He groaned, and I smiled, pulling down his boxers.

I gawked at the size, his cock standing proud and tall, and I could feel myself growing wetter at the sight alone.

I paused for a moment, staring down at his erection and back up at him. I had only had sex once or twice, and I was slightly unsure of what to do, which James took notice of.

“If you do not want to, that's fine, I don't wanna make you-” I quickly cut him off,

“No, this is something I've wanted forever, James. Just, I'm a bit nervous. I've only done things like this once or twice.” I admitted, embarrassed by my inexperience, especially in front of a guy who probably gets with groupies every night or so.

James nodded understandingly, sensing my fear. “That's fine, I'll guide you.” He assured me, and it helped a bit.

I nodded, sitting up and slipping out of my shorts, leaving both of us naked except for my panties. James couldn't take his eyes off me, reaching his hand out to the waistband before glancing up at me,

“Can I?” He asked gently, to which I nodded quickly, watching as the garment was discarded, James tossing it to the floor and his eyes raked over my fully exposed form, taking in every detail as if he was putting it to memory. I waited a moment before sitting back on him, straddling him, my hips hovering over his tip. 

I glanced at him again, not wanting to rush things. He nodded, giving me the final ok as I sank onto him, a loud moan escaping my throat as he groaned, filling me fully and instinctively reaching for my hips, which he gripped so tightly I was sure he'd leave bruises. I sat there a moment, still adjusting to his size, as he was much bigger than the other man I had been with, I didn't feel anything, at least emotionally, but now I did.

Slowly, he began to thrust his hips up, making me moan as I slowly matched his movements, riding him as he pumped himself deeper into me.

Each of his movements allowed filthy, obscene noises to escape my lips. He moved my mouth to my neck, kissing and sucking on my sensitive flesh, stimulating me greatly, causing,e to whine and moan more.

James was breathing heavily on my neck, groaning with each thrust, “God, you're so beautiful.. So tight.. So pretty, all for me..” He groaned against my neck, slowly increasing his pace, and making me moan louder.

I needed to hold something, gripping his shoulders and digging my nails into his flesh, making him hiss through his teeth as he continued to pump into me.

I could feel myself growing tighter, clenching around him as I neared my release.

As if the pleasure couldn't grow anymore, he reached his thumb down and began to toy with my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure and need through me, making me moan louder as he continued to leave hickeys and bite marks all over my neck, marking me as his.

“You're doing so well.. Taking me so well.. You're so good..” He whispered praises to me in between his kisses, making me whine.

He continued all of his ministrations, rubbing my clit and sucking on my neck, pumping his cock deeper, faster, and harder into me, all overwhelming my senses.

“Fuck.. James, I.. I'm gonna..” I moaned out, feeling myself clench around him tighter as he groaned louder.

“Me too, baby.. Just let go..” He whispered to me, and with one final, harsh rub to my clit I came undone around him, moaning his name so loud that anyone nearby probably heard, but I didn't care. The man I've wanted for years just made me feel so good, and now he's mine, and I'm his.

He came at the same time, shooting his load deep into me, painting my insides white.

My hole continued to milk him of every last drop, pulsing around him until I could feel him soften, pulling his face away from my neck and resting my forehead against his.

“I love you, James. I have since we met..” I whispered to him, and he smiled softly in response.

“I love you too.” He murmured back to me, kissing me gently and the lips as I pulled off of him, laying down beside him as he stood up, “I’ll go get a towel to clean us up, ok?” He informed me, and I nodded with a smile.

He returned with a damp washcloth and a dry towel, carefully wiping up my most sensitive areas, not wanting to hurt me. 

After he finished, he laid back down next to me, wrapping his arms around me, whispering sweet nothings and praises to me as we slowly fell asleep.

“I love you.. You're so beautiful..” James mumbled to me softly before falling asleep, and I followed soon after.

In the morning

As the sun rose, the snow slowly began to melt, freeing the door of its lack of movement.

The rest of the guys had returned, having gotten so drunk they decided to stay at a different hotel for the night.

I woke up to the sound of the front door opening, too groggy and half asleep to get up and see who or what it was, moving closer to James’ hold, which he seemed to enjoy in his sleep. I glanced around the room, taking in the surroundings.

Our clothes were scattered on the floor that surrounded the bed, though I didn't pay it any mind, as no one would come in or care.

Though, it seems I had thought wring when Lars barged through the door.

“What the fuck happened here?” He yelled out at James and me. The sight was a messy one, the two of us cuddled up, limbs sprawled, hair messy, various hickies and marks on my neck, and with our clothes all over the floor didn't paint a good light.

I was quickly snapped out of my sleepy state, pulling the blanket over my chest as James began to wake up.

“Get out!” I shouted at my brother.

He had seen me with a guy one other time, but that guy wasn't his best friend or his bandmate. He didn't move for a moment, just shaking his head as James groaned, still waking up.

“..What..?” James asked, his voice groggy and full of sleep, rubbing his eyes as he took in the sight of Lars in the bed frame, the other guys not far behind him.

“Did you sleep with my sister?” Lars called back at James.

I could feel my face heating up, god how embarrassing this was.

“I said get out you dickhole!” I yelled back at Lars, who scoffed and shut the door.

James was still half asleep, looking at me, slightly confused, “What's going on..?” He asked me sleepily.

“Lars isn't happy that I fucked you,” I admitted, still really embarrassed about this.

James scoffed, “Whatever, I’ll talk to him.” He muttered, tossing his arm around me.

“What will you tell him? He seems to have quite the stick up his ass about this.” I complained, my eyes meeting his.

“That I love you.” He answered with a smile, kissing me gently on the lips.

[listening505]

what a fucking liar lmaoo (well I was *still am* quite depressed when I wrote that) but I’m still planning to finish it I didn’t forget about it

hi everyone, I don’t know if anyone still follows me or remembers Nightcall but I had a really tough year and couldn’t post them so i am going to finish the last two parts and post them as soon as I can. i just don’t want to leave it like that, i loved writing james and ameila so i wanna give them proper ending.

[mustainegf]

Helooo

No clue how I came up this thus idea but hear me out plz.

You know the infamous the GnR & Metallica tour in 1992? So reader and James are together but Axl keeps flirting and making sexual remarks about her. James is pissed but cause of the contract obligations can’t beat him up. So as a joke, Lars (or someone else) suggest to get the reader pregnant, because then it’ll be pretty clear whose girl she is. This leads to the nastiest, filthiest sex in James’s dressing room.

A few months later, Metallica and GnR meet again at Grammy’s/VMA/whatever and the reader has a very prominent belly, so it’s obvious. And James is there, hands on her belly all the time and the alpha male smirk “yup, she is mine, I’ve put a baby inside her” directed at Axl.

I love your stories so much 😊😊😊

THIS IS SO GOOD HOLY SHIT!???

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐃 ¹⁹⁹²

Any tour with Metallica had always been... something, but the infamous Guns N' Roses and Metallica tour was another animal altogether. A whole new level of chaos. Not just because of the music. By that time, I had been with James for a couple of years, and we were engaged. He was an understanding partner, so it wasn't a big deal to live life on the road when we had to. I loved James more than words could say, and my feelings were returned.

But Axl Rose, with his constant flirtations and sexual remarks, was testing our patience.

James and I tried to brush off the comments from Axl, well aware that a fight would surely end the tour. But it was clear he was just barely keeping a lid on his anger.

One night, after one aggravating encounter too many, James and I sat in his dressing room, trying to cool off.

"He's such a fucking prick," James growled, pacing back and forth. "I swear to God, if it weren't for this damn tour, I'd knock his teeth out out of that stupid, pretty boy face of his."

I reached out and grabbed his arm. "I know, James. He's just trying to get under your skin. Don't let him win."

James sighed, holding me close. "I know. I just… I hate the way he looks at you, the things he says. perverted, and he fucking knows we're together..."

Lars, while walking in, decides to lighten the mood with one of his stupid jokes. "Hey, I've got an idea," he said, smirking. "If you really want to shut Axl up, knock 'er up. That'll show him whose girl she is." Lars snickered.

I couldn't help but laugh at how absurd it sounded, but James's eyes lit up with a wicked glaze. "You know what? That ain't a bad idea..."

Lars' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wait, are you fawkin' serious?"

James glanced at me with a smirk now playing on his lips. "What do you think, baby? Want to make sure Axl knows you're mine?"

"James, this isn't just a revenge story, this is a baby we're talking about. A little tiny human that you and me have to dote on." I tried my best to be rational, but I had to admit, I liked the idea of having his baby.

"Honey, the revenge is an afterthought, I'd love to have a baby with you. So? You wanna make this baby or what?" I snickered evilly.

It was a nuts kind of idea, but something about it refused to be denied. I laughed. "Let's do it."

Lars laughed, shaking his head. "You two are insane..."

The instant Lars was out of the room, all bets seemed to be off with James. He yanked me close, his hands scouring over my body. "Come 'ere," he growled, smirking into my lips as we kissed.

His tongue probed my mouth with such hunger, the only clear though on his mind seemed to be getting me pregnant. His hands slid under my shirt, whisking it over my head and out of the way. I moaned when his lips wandered down my neck, his fingers unhooking my bra faster than ever before.

"James," I hummed, fumbling with his belt. "I need you..."

A low dark chuckle sent sparks down my back. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget all about that asshole."

He pushed me onto the couch, his hands on my hips, yanking my jeans down. I shivered and giggled as cool air hit my newly exposed skin. James quickly shed his own clothes; his erection was already straining against his boxers, just begging to be swallowed inside me.

He knelt between my legs, his fingers teased at my entrance before delving inside. I purr softly, closing my eyes and drowning in that sweet feeling of his fingers. "God, you're so wet," he murmured, "Excited for me to fuck my baby into you, huh?"

"James, please," I begged, my hips grinding against his hand. "I need you inside me..."

He didn't need any more encouragement. He slid into place at my entrance, his cock gliding against my swollen, wet lips. "You ready for me?" he asked, his eyes locked on mine.

"Yes," I breathed, the word shaking with desire. "I'm ready, James."

With a deep rumbling groan, he gently thrust inside me, filling me completely. I whined, my nails scraping into his shoulders as he began to move, and my god it felt good to have him raw, without a condom like we always did. "Mine..." he hissed against my ear. "No one else can have you."

"Yes," I gasped, my body trembling. "I'm yours, James. Only yours."

His hands gripped my hips, driving into me, making sure to focus on rubbing that sweet spot, that he knew so well. "I'm gonna fill you up," he growled. "I'm going to put a baby inside you, and everyone will know you're mine."

"Yes, J-James..." I strained as my body was just on the edge of climax. "Fill me... Make me y-yours.".

Finally, he thrust once more and buried himself full length within me. We both came, a shared tremor taking both our bodies as we held for each other. James collapsed on top of me, burying his face in my neck and delivering lazy, sweet kisses.

For some time, we cuddled nude on that couch. Finally, James lifted his head, a smug smirk on his lips. "That ought to shut him up."

The months just flew by, and there was the event we all had been waiting for, the VMAs. My belly was very noticeable then, it was like the whole world knows that I'm pregnant. I'm 6 months along now. James was elated, always touching my belly and talking to our unborn baby.

The minute we arrived at the awards show, the buzz was immediate. Whispers followed us everywhere we went, and I could feel eyes on us as we made our way down the red carpet. Every fan, every groupie, every metalhead in the world wanted to catch a glimpse of me, carrying the legendary James Hetfield's baby. James's hand was firmly on my belly, his other arm protectively around me.

We mingled for a bit then with other celebrities, but as expected, shortly found ourselves face to face with Axl. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of me, his gaze falling first to my swollen belly in my glimmering cherry-red dress. James smirked, his hand resting possessively on my stomach. "Hey, Axl," he said, his voice obviously smug. "You remember my beautiful fiancée."

Axl's face flushed, but he forced a smile. "Congratulations," he muttered,very clearly uncomfortable.

James's smile stretched wider. "Thanks. We're real excited. Can't wait to be a father."

Axl grunted a reply, but I hardly even heard him. My attention was on James, the way that he looked at me with all of that pride. I snuggled into him.

The congratulations kept coming from our friends and many others whom I'd never met in my life, but they surely knew James' name. James was just the portrait of a proud, expectant father, his hand never left my bump. His eyes shine every time somebody asks about the baby.

We finally sat at our table, and James came close to me at the table, his lips brushing my ear. "Just can't wait for our little baby," he whispered, his hand gently rubbing on my tummy. "I love you so much."

[nostallicca]

Currently thinking of this James mercilessly fucking me from behind while pulling my hair so hard clumps of it ends up in his hands

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 05 of 06 | masterpost

word count: 8,2k | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I sighed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks as I sensed a kind of understanding forming between the three of us, albeit slowly; Dave and James were like two sides of the same coin, always had been, brothers of fire and anger even before all their pain had driven them apart. Was it such a shocker that they'd both end up falling for the same woman? Was it such a surprise that I'd end up loving them both? Maybe we always knew it would eventually lead to this.

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, threesome, mxfxm sex, dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, unprotected sex, oral sex, drug issues mentioned, alcoholism, drinking

✦ a/n: Hey, everyone! So, this chapter turned out a bit longer too, but I couldn't wrap up the fic without throwing in this smut scene at least once. Honestly, it's one of my favorites in the whole story! Oh, and in case you haven't noticed - yeah, Leanne's husband is Joe Sinclair. He popped up in some earlier chapters as Lea's friend who had that cool beach house where they celebrated Cliff's birthday and where James first kissed Nore at Lea's birthday party. Next part's gonna be the finale, and I swear we're finally getting a happy ending after all the drama lol Thanks for sticking around and reading, feedback is appreciated! ❤

April 6, 1992

Dave and I came back from our weekend getaway even more head over heels for each other, if that was even possible. Now that our feelings were out in the open, any walls between us just crumbled away, leaving us with one undeniable truth: I was crazy about him, and he felt the same way about me. Life had never felt so simple. 

Life had also never felt so damn complicated; come Monday, things took an unexpected turn when Lars unexpectedly dropped by. He showed up at my place bright and early, his usual chill vibe replaced with a hint of worry that had me wondering what was up.

"Hey, Lars. Come on in, I was just munching on some breakfast," I gestured for him to enter, stepping aside. He gave a somewhat tense smile and took a seat at the kitchen table, setting his backpack down. "Hungry? I've got pancakes, orange juice, some fresh sliced watermelon..."

"Just water, thanks. I grabbed a bite earlier," he replied, flashing a quick smile when he noticed my concern.

"If you're all fueled up, what's with the serious face?" I inquired. "Something happened?"

"Actually..." he trailed off. I plopped down at the table, sliding a glass of water his way and pouring myself some juice, giving him a curious glance. "You catch the news today?"

"News?" I furrowed my brow, and Lars let out a sigh, seeming resigned. He unzipped his backpack, pulling out a magazine and passing it over to me. I blinked at him, puzzled, before focusing on the publication.

What I saw left me gaping in disbelief.

The magazine was one of those gossip rags, the kind I never bought because I had never been interested in such stuff. If I didn't expect Lars to read this kind of thing, I certainly didn't expect to see myself on the cover. The photo showed a painfully familiar scene; Dave and I getting off at the airport together the night before, him with an arm around my waist, pulling me close as he whispered something in my ear and I smiled. We both looked happy; happy and at peace, like I hadn't felt in a long time.

The photo didn't take up the whole cover; there was some other Hollywood gossip splashed across it that I barely paid attention to as I zeroed in on the caption beneath my picture with Dave.

SHE’S GOT A TYPE? Get the lowdown on Nore Burton and her new metalhead boyfriend, snapped in LA yesterday, on page 30.

I hurriedly flipped through the magazine, landing on the page mentioned and scanning through it, feeling my face flush hotter with every word.

Lately, there's been a buzz among Hollywood bigwigs and celebs about a fresh face on the scene: Eleanore Burton (27), aka Nore Burton. The actress, with a theater background and gearing up for her small-screen debut, turned heads by snagging the lead in Pacific Coast Television's (PCT) latest romance series, sharing the screen with some seasoned industry pros.

What's not widely known is that the actress is actually cousins with late Metallica bassist, Cliff Burton. And then there's the rollercoaster romance between her and the band's frontman and guitarist, James Hetfield (28). They've been on and off since way before they hit the big time, dabbling with other flings whenever they hit a rough patch.

But what really caught our eye was spotting the actress getting cozy with a new flame: Dave Mustaine (30), infamous for his sharp tongue and ongoing feud with Metallica after getting kicked out of the band in '83. A trusted source confided that they were actually together for a few months earlier that same year, but things fizzled out shortly after Metallica dropped their debut album, Kill 'em All.

It's anyone's guess how James Hetfield feels about his sweetheart's new fling. How's he gonna take the news that she's back in touch with an old flame he's not too keen on? We tried reaching out to Hetfield via Metallica's reps, but no word back yet as of press time.

"They went after him?" I shouted, eyebrows raised, looking at Lars in shock. "Lars, I had no clue about this pic! I..." I shook my head, too stunned to finish.

"Yeah, welcome to the club, babe," Lars quipped, snatching the magazine from me. "Just wait till you need bodyguards for your Bloomingdale's run. Fame's got its downsides, no doubt." He glanced up, frowning. "When were you planning to spill the beans about getting back with Mustaine?"

"I was going to, I swear," I said, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks. Lars just huffed, giving me an incredulous look. I couldn't blame him for being peeved; maybe I should've looped them in sooner. But I didn’t expect my personal life would become front-page news like that. "Seriously, Lars. Dave and I just reconnected last month, but everything happened so fast..."

"And what about James? Did he get the memo, or did he find out through the grapevine?"

"He knows Dave and I crossed paths again. But..." I paused, feeling a lump form in my throat, my voice trailing off as memories of James' silent treatment flooded back. "He's been avoiding me for weeks. I've called, but no answer. It's like I'm invisible to him," I finished in a mumble, blinking back a lone tear rolling down my cheek.

Lars gazed at me for a beat, then let out a sigh, opening his arms for a hug. I blinked back tears, feeling them well up despite my efforts, and eased myself into his embrace.

"You know you could've spilled this to us, me and Kirk," he said softly. "You could've mentioned James was giving you the silent treatment again. We would've had your back."

"I didn't want to be a burden," I murmured, and he scoffed.

"You're not a burden. We're family; we look out for each other, got it?"

"Thanks," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion, as I stepped back. I straightened up, brushing my hair back and sniffing, wiping away the tears that had slipped down my cheeks. "I... I'll give him a call. And if he doesn't pick up, I'll swing by his place after today's shoot. We gotta talk things out; it ain't cool for him to shut himself off like this."

"You want me to come along?" Lars offered, rising from his seat, and I shook my head no. I'd rather handle this on my own. "Okay; I got some stuff to sort out myself. We're hitting the road soon for a tour, won't be back till August for Lea's wedding. If James pops up, I'll call you, alright? And let him know you're looking to chat."

"Sure thing, Lars," I smiled softly as he clasped my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Appreciate it."

As expected, I couldn't get hold of James; every call went straight to voicemail. I got swept back into my daily grind, a hectic day of non-stop shooting. Word about me and Dave must've spread like wildfire; some colleagues offered sympathetic words, but I also caught plenty of curious looks and hushed chatter whenever I was on set during the day.

I left the studio totally beat; all I craved was getting home, hitting the shower, and crashing out. But, sticking to my morning promise, I made my way to James' place. I stood at the door, debating whether to ring the bell. After a moment, I went for it, but got no response. I fidgeted nervously, wondering if I'd picked a lousy time to drop by; I wasn't even sure he'd be home. I hit the bell again and waited. Just when I was about to bail, James finally swung open the door.

The moment I laid eyes on him, I could tell he wasn't okay; his disheveled hair, creased forehead, and bloodshot eyes gave away recent drinking. He just stood there, staring at me, before stepping aside silently to let me in. I winced at the sight of his living room, a mess that brought back memories of our wild party days back when we were younger; empty beer bottles littered the floor, clothes tossed haphazardly on the couch, and a stack of pizza boxes sitting on the corner table.

"You showed up," James muttered hoarsely, and I turned to him. He gazed at me, a mix of pain and bitterness flashing in his blue eyes, sending a wave of discomfort through me. "Finally remembered I'm alive? Or did your boyfriend not want you around today?"

"James..." I started, my tone a mix of caution and desperation. I wasn't looking for a fight. All I wanted was to talk things out with him. He snorted before heading to the kitchen, and I trailed after him. I watched with worry as he opened the fridge, reaching for a beer. "I... I don't think booze is the answer right now."

"Thanks for the tip, but I'll pass," he smirked, sarcastically. "What brings you here, Nore? Suddenly worried about my feelings now that the whole world knows you're with someone else?"

"James, that's not fair," I said, my voice choking up. "I've been trying to reach out to you for weeks. You've been ignoring my calls, you didn't answer any of my voicemails, and now I'm the one who doesn't care?"

He shot me an annoyed look but stayed silent. I sighed, blinking away the forming tears as I looked away from him, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat. Maybe coming after him wasn't such a great idea after all.

"Lars mentioned you're hitting the road soon. How are you planning to handle that if you're in this state?" I questioned weakly, and he just rolled his eyes.

"And what's it to you?"

"I do care about you, James. Even if you can't see it," I answered, my voice dropping, feeling the weight of his anger. Whenever James got like this, I felt lost, like a ship tossed at sea, struggling to find solid ground but always drifting. It was like he was slipping further away, and I couldn't reel him back in. I couldn't handle it — his distance or the hurt it caused.

"Why'd you go back to him, Nore?" he questioned suddenly, his voice now filled with anguish. "Wasn't I good enough for you?"

"James, please," I implored, taking a step forward, but he shook his head, backing away. "Come on. You know I care about you..."

"Don't say that while I have to watch you happy with him," James snapped. "Really, Nore? Fucking Mustaine? I can handle you seeing other people when we're not good, but did it have to be him ? The one person I know I can't measure up to?"

"James," I begged, my voice catching. "I didn't plan for this. But I can't ignore how I feel. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us. But you don't have to push me away. Please, let me help..."

" Stop it ," he interrupted, his voice sharp and icy. I flinched, holding back tears, feeling a pang of sadness as I watched James' expression turn hostile. "I told you not to come crying to me, didn't I? I don't want to fucking see you, I don't want to hear about your life. I don't know why you still think I give a shit," he snarled, his words laced with venomous anger.

I gaped at him, stunned, my heart pounding painfully in my chest as I watched the realization of what he'd just said sinking in, the hostility melting into regret in his blue eyes. He reached out, but it was too late; the damage was done, my heart shattered, and I knew I couldn't stand to be near James for another second right then, no matter how hard I tried.

As he came closer, I swatted his hand away, tears streaming down my face. I backed off quick, just needing to get away, to put as much space between my pain and James' rising temper as I could, even if that meant widening the gap between us even more.

I got home feeling totally crushed, tears still streaking down my cheeks as I flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh, and caught sight of the blinking light on the phone, telling me I had messages waiting. I grabbed the phone and held it up to my ear, tapping the button to listen to the voicemails. A faint smile crept onto my face as Dave's voice came through.

Hey, babe. How's it going? Just saw that article they threw out about us. Give me a call, alright?

I let out a sigh. Even though I was feeling pretty down, I knew chatting with Dave would lift my spirits, so I quickly dialed up his number.

"Hey."

"Hi, Dave," I said, trying to put on a smile even though my voice was still a bit wobbly.

"Hey, sweetheart. You alright?" Dave asked, sounding all worried. Of course he'd pick up on my mood instantly; nobody read me like Dave did.

"I..." I let out a sigh; I didn't wanna stress him out, but I also couldn't keep everything that went down with James from him. "No, I'm not," I confessed. "I... I went to see James, Dave. He's not in a good place... We had a huge fight, he said some nasty stuff, and I..."

"It's because of that stupid article, right?" he said, his voice tense. I agreed, and he let out a sigh. "Hey, wanna swing by my place? I don't want you to be alone if you're feeling this bummed out. I'll whip up some dinner for us."

"Wait, you actually know how to cook?" I asked, my genuine curiosity distracting me from my sadness for a moment, and he chuckled softly.

"I'm getting there. Can't survive on fast food forever, you know. But I can always order in if you're not convinced by my culinary skills," he said, and I giggled.

"No need. I'm game to try your cooking. I'll just change and head over there, then."

I showed up at Dave's home not long after, carrying a backpack slung over my shoulder packed with all the stuff I figured I'd need for the next day. When he swung the door open, I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest.

"Hey," he chuckled softly, running his fingers through my hair. I glanced up, standing on my toes to plant a kiss on his lips. He grinned, his hands cradling my face gently. "C'mon, let's head inside."

I smiled softly when I stepped into Dave's place and noticed the living room, dimly lit and cozy, lit up with just a small lamp while some soft tunes played in the background. Not the usual heavy metal songs I was used to enjoying with him, but instead, a nice, slow piano melody. The dining table was all set with red candles flickering, some spaghetti bolognese, and a bottle of red wine.

Dave snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on my shoulder, swaying along to the music. I couldn't help but let out a soft giggle. I turned around to wrap my arms around his neck; he slid his hands down to my waist, giving me a light kiss on the lips before resting his forehead against mine.

"A candlelit dinner and some music? You're pulling out all the stops this time, Mustaine," I remarked, and he grinned.

"Just wait 'til you see what I've got planned for after we go to bed."

"You didn't go all out with rose petals and stuff, did you?" I teased, and he chuckled, giving me a tight hug and a light kiss on the lips.

"I'd do anything to see you smile. You know that, right?" he asked, softly.

How could I feel anything but pure joy hearing that? Having Dave back in my life felt like a dream, one that just kept getting sweeter by the day. I could see it in his eyes he meant it, despite all the mess with James, despite all the baggage from my past. He loved me, plain and simple. What more could I ask for? 

Instead of answering, I simply leaned in and planted another kiss on his lips.

August 15, 1992

The next few months flew by in a blur. Between my jam-packed schedule and all my commitments, things slowly started shifting. Dave and I made it official, letting everyone know we were back on, and sure, at first, it caused a bit of a stir with the gossip mags and our circle of friends. But soon enough, the novelty wore off, and we got our privacy back.

The moments I spent with him were just something else; every day, our bond got stronger, and I couldn't get enough of Dave - his smile, the feel of his skin on mine, the taste of his kiss, and how his eyes softened whenever they locked with mine.

Dave kept fighting to stay clear of falling back into addiction, even though some days were really tough on him. I did what I could to support him, even if I knew deep down that I couldn't fix everything. But Dave always made sure to let me know that just having me around made things a whole lot easier.

Having him around definitely helped ease my load too; getting back with Dave kind of lifted some of the heaviness I'd been carrying around for the past few years. Sure, I knew I'd always have to deal with the sadness that came with losing Cliff. But the pain of having lost Dave in the past bit by bit was slowly being replaced by love - real, deep love that filled up my chest almost entirely.

Almost entirely, except for the part that still hurt because of my messed-up relationship with James. We'd been in this complicated dance for a few years now, but lately, he'd been more distant than ever. I mean, I get it, being a big-time artist, time works a bit differently, right? It wasn’t unusual for us to go ages without seeing each other when the band was out on their never-ending tours, but usually, we'd at least keep some kind of contact going.

But lately, it felt like he was going out of his way to steer clear of me, and honestly, I wasn't really feeling the urge to patch things up after the nasty stuff he'd flung my way last time we talked. I'd still give Lars and Kirk quick calls to check in on them every now and then, but I made sure to steer clear of bringing up James, and they didn't mention him either.

I figured I'd bump into him sooner or later. I mean, with Leanne's wedding creeping up, it was bound to happen. Lea and Joe had settled on tying the knot down in New Orleans and had snagged a whole hotel to fit everyone in. I caught up with them the day before the big party, when they swung by to greet us at the airport and give us a ride to the hotel.

The moment I laid eyes on Lea, a huge smile spread across my face; she was just like I remembered her, with her dark locks and sparkly eyes, but I couldn't help but do a double-take at the little bump showing she was expecting. As for Lea, she didn't seem at all shocked to see Dave tagging along with me for the event. Despite the miles between us, Leanne and I always made sure to keep each other in the loop about what was going on in our lives.

"You’re pregnant? " I blurted out, all wide-eyed and grinning as she pulled me into a hug. She laughed.

"Yeah, I am! Joe and I were just as shocked, believe me. I'm at 19 weeks... Oh, sorry, that's like 4 months, right? I didn't spill the beans sooner 'cause I wanted to tell you face-to-face."

"Wow, Lea. That's amazing news, congrats!" I gushed, beaming at her, and she beamed right back.

Man, I was beyond thrilled for her. Even though Leanne and I hadn't been as close lately, I still saw her as one of my ride-or-die besties, and I knew she felt the same way. Losing Cliff had changed a lot of stuff, but it didn't touch the bond we had. Seeing her all glowing and living her best life, well, it warmed my heart more than words could say.

Dave and I tagged along with Leanne to the airport parking lot, and there was Joe, leaning against the car, waiting for us. His face lit up with a smile when he spotted us. While Leanne hadn't changed much, Joe was a whole new dude compared to the long-haired blondie I knew back in my San Francisco days. These days, he kept his hair super short, almost buzzed, and sported a full beard. But that friendly grin of his was still exactly the same.

"Hey, Nore, Dave! Been ages!" he said, giving us a hug before unlocking the car. "How've you been? Pumped for the party?"

"I'm counting down the minutes," I grinned, and Leanne let out a soft chuckle. "But you two must be over the moon, right? Tomorrow's your big day!"

"Oh, you have no idea," Leanne said, all hyped up. "We've been waiting for this forever, and now that it's finally happening, it's like pinch-me-I'm-dreaming territory."

We pulled up at the hotel before we knew it. Dave and I gave Leanne and Joe a big thanks for the lift, then headed inside to check-in and crash for a bit. I mean, the next day was gonna be huge. Finally, we made it to our room, and I let out a sigh of relief, humming a little as I started unpacking. Dave glanced over at me, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You're looking pretty happy," he observed, moving in closer and resting a hand on my waist. I let out a soft chuckle as he planted a kiss on my cheek, his lips brushing lightly against my skin before meeting mine. "I love seeing you like this."

"Isn't it crazy that Lea's gonna have a baby? That's awesome," I remarked, grinning. Dave chuckled softly, pulling me into a hug before his lips found mine once more. I let out a contented sigh as he gently gripped my hips, drawing me closer.

"You ever thought about having one?" he murmured, his voice low and a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaned in close to my ear. I pulled back a bit, feeling a blush creep up on my cheeks as I looked at him, surprised. "We could have a little one someday. You know, down the road. Or two. Or ten ."

"How'd we jump from two to ten?" I giggled, and he let out a big laugh.

"Just throwing it out there. If you want, I’d love to have a future with you."

Those words from Dave kept swirling around in my head all night, even after we'd settled into bed. Ever since Cliff had passed, I'd been steering clear of making any big plans for the future. Losing him had hit me hard, wrecking any dreams I used to have. For a while, I’d just let life happen, rolling with the punches as they came. I was so, so terrified of hoping for anything and ending up crushed and broken again. But with Dave by my side, everything felt different, like the world was painted in brighter colors. Was it okay to start thinking about a future where we wouldn't ever have to be distant again? Was it okay to start thinking about a future with him?

A future with him. Just the thought made my stomach tie up in knots, all tangled up with the fear that it could all go south one day. But deep down, I knew I craved it with every fiber of my being.

Maybe I wasn't exactly brimming with courage right then, but one thing I knew for sure: for as long as I lived, I never wanted to be apart from Dave again.

August 16, 1992

Leanne's wedding ceremony was short and sweet, but emotional. I'll admit, I got a bit teary-eyed watching her stroll down that aisle, all choked up with happy tears but still beaming. On the downside, being a bridesmaid meant I couldn't shake the feeling of James' eyes on me the whole time. Him, Lars, and Kirk were all groomsmen at the wedding too.

James and I had crossed paths real quick at the hotel during breakfast, but it was like we were total strangers. Not a single word passed between us. Maybe I was being a bit stubborn, but after the nasty stuff he'd flung at me months back, I wasn't about to be the one to make the first move and patch things up.

The wedding’s reception kicked off pretty quickly, held at a beautiful historical mansion not far from our hotel. I snagged a seat at the table set aside for me, Dave, and a bunch of other folks while he headed off to grab some food. I glanced up with a grin when I noticed a familiar face plop down beside me.

"Hey, Kirk," I greeted, and he flashed me a warm smile.

"Hey, Nore! Finally tracked you down. So, I noticed Lea moved you to a different table... Is it 'cause you and James had a spat or 'cause your boyfriend's not our biggest fan?" he quipped, and I chuckled.

"Maybe a bit of both. But don't sweat it, Dave won't mind me hanging with you guys. As for James..." I let out a sigh. "How's he holding up?"

Kirk grimaced.

"The usual drill, ya know. Him and Lars got into it like three times on the tour... Lars keeps pushing him to hit up rehab, but James insists he’s good," he sighed, then flashed a grin. "Sorry 'bout the tiff you guys had. But he'll bounce back, trust me."

"I know. It's just frustrating when you wanna lend a hand but the other person isn’t having it," I admitted with a sigh, then glanced up as Dave strolled over with two plates of food. "Red alert, Dave's on the scene," I joked, and Kirk chuckled before standing up.

"I'll bail for now. Don't wanna ruffle your boyfriend's feathers too much. We'll chat later, Nore."

I flashed Kirk a smile as he headed off to join Lars and James at their table. Heat rushed to my cheeks when I sensed James looking my way, so I quickly turned my attention to Dave.

"Brought food," Dave grinned, sliding a plate in front of me before settling down beside me. "So, what was up with Hammett?"

"Just chatting. You know we haven’t seen each other in a while," I answered, a small smile playing on my lips. He scoffed, rolling his eyes, but didn't seem too bothered. "Jealous, much?" I teased.

"No need for jealousy, sweetheart. I know you're madly in love with me," he grinned, and I playfully nudged his arm, chuckling.

We wrapped up our meal, happily chatting the whole time. Once dinner was done, a sweet tune started playing, and I couldn't help but grin as I watched Leanne and Joe twirling around the dance floor. Leanne looked stunning in her fancy dress, her hair all dolled up with twinkling little gems. Joe looked like he was on cloud nine, beaming at her like she’d hung the moon. I felt Dave slide an arm around my waist, planting a soft kiss on my temple, and I melted into his embrace.

The party flowed like honey, with drinks pouring freely, mouthwatering meals, and catching up with old friends. Leanne had rounded up a bunch of folks from our San Francisco days, so mingling was easy. Dave and I bounced around, shooting the breeze with different faces, and as the booze kicked in, things got looser. I ended up deep in conversation with Lars at one point, while Dave snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I couldn't help but chuckle at how unexpected and unlikely the moment felt.

The only person I hardly even crossed paths with was James. I mean, there was this one time when I was heading back from the bathroom and accidentally plowed right into him. He caught me, his hands gripping my shoulders tight, and I couldn't help but blush when I looked up and saw it was him. I took a step back, my face probably as red as a tomato, while he just stood there, all serious, not saying a word.

"What?" I snapped, my voice a bit sharper than I meant it to be. He just kept on staring at me, like he was trying to figure out what to say, but I wasn't in the mood to hash things out with him. I spun on my heel and headed back to Dave, who was busy grabbing us a couple of drinks at the bar.

“Hey, babe. You good?" Dave asked, passing me a glass filled with a drink. I took a sip and nodded, shooting a quick glance over at James, who was still eyeing me from afar. We locked eyes for a sec, both of us clearly ticked off, until Dave caught on and followed my gaze. He frowned, grabbing my hand. "C'mon, let's go somewhere else."

I tore my gaze away from James, ditching my drink on some random table as I trailed after Dave, feeling kinda intrigued. The way Dave's shoulders tensed up told me he wasn't exactly thrilled about the silent stare-down I just had with James.

He led me through the mansion's hall and out the back door, where we found ourselves in a huge, empty garden since most of the guests were still inside. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was up to, as he guided me to a secluded spot in the garden. My eyes widened in surprise when he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me before planting a harsh kiss on my lips.

"What's the deal with you and James?" he growled, catching me off guard with the intensity in his voice.

"Dave, it’s nothing," I murmured, but he just grunted in response, kissing me again with a bit too much force, his tongue pushing into my mouth without any of the usual gentleness. I let out a little moan, taken aback, gripping onto his arms as his hold on my waist tightened.

"He's been eyeing you all night, and now you can't seem to take your eyes off him," he murmured, giving my lip a light nip as he backed me against the wall. He slid one knee between my legs and his hand rested lightly on my neck. "You gonna clue me in on why you're giving him all this attention?"

"He's just being a jerk. I'm not giving him the time of day, I... Oh!" I gasped when Dave spun me around, pressing my back against him and pulling me close, letting me feel his hard-on as he started kissing my neck. "Dave, hold on, you're drunk..."

"And what if I am? You are too," he grunted, but eased up on his hold a bit. His lips, however, kept on working their magic on my skin, planting soft kisses that sent shivers down my spine. "What's wrong? You wanna go back to him?"

"It's not that," I murmured, daring to turn to face him again. Dave looked at me, his eyes filled with turmoil as I gripped onto his arms, feeling my heart pounding and my cheeks heating up. "I want you, Dave," I declared, reaching up to his face and wiping away the lipstick that had smeared from my lips to his. He grunted, grabbing my wrist before pressing me back against the wall, his lips finding my neck once more as he nibbled and sucked gently. I let out a little moan, caught off guard, closing my eyes. "Dave..."

"If I make it crystal clear to everyone that you're mine, will that jerk finally back off?" he growled, nipping at my neck again in a way that I knew would leave a mark. I gasped, clutching onto his shirt and shutting my eyes. "You know I'm planning to fuck you stupid all night long, right?"

"Hmm... Dave, please..." I begged, not entirely sure if I wanted him to stop or to keep going. He grunted, but pulled back, leaving me with one last kiss on my neck before stepping away, his cheeks flushed and his gaze burning with intensity.

"We should head back," he suggested, his voice low and husky, his fingers intertwining with mine. I nodded, my heart still pounding, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through me at his touch.

We made our way back to the party; Dave and I ducked into the bathrooms to freshen up before rejoining the crowd. I blushed when I caught sight of myself in the mirror: flushed cheeks, smudged lipstick, hair slightly tousled, and two distinct red marks on my neck's smooth skin. I did my best to fix my hair and makeup, dabbing at the hickeys with cold water in a vain attempt to reduce the bruises that I knew would linger for days.

I headed to the bar, grabbing a glass of water to cool down. I glanced around, searching for Dave, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he hadn’t left the bathroom yet. I settled at a table with a sigh, my heart still fluttering a bit.

"Your guy's a bit possessive, huh?" a voice chimed in, and I glanced up to see James with that familiar smirk on his face, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and bitterness.

"After all this time, that's your opening line?" I shot back, my tone icy. He took a seat beside me, his gaze fixating on the marks on my neck. His fingers traced the edges of the redness softly, sending a shiver down my spine.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he muttered, "You love having him under your spell. And me too," he added, lifting his gaze to meet mine, his eyes flickering with anger and something else, a mix of emotions I couldn't quite pin down, but definitely edged with desire.

"You're not even gonna say sorry? Just gonna stay there spewing out this nonsense?" I shot back, aiming for hostility but only managing to sound wounded. He scoffed, leaning in closer, his lips pressing against the bruises, kissing and biting them softly before he murmured against my skin:

"I'm sorry." Then he straightened up, leaving me stunned, heart racing and face flushed as I watched him walk away without a backward glance.

After the party wrapped up, Dave and I hopped in a taxi back to the hotel. We were quiet on the ride, his fingertips tracing little circles on my inner thigh, sending shivers up my spine. Once we got to our room, I headed to the bathroom, flicking on the tap to start filling the bathtub while Dave took his clothes off. Leaning against the door frame, I watched him kick off his shoes, feeling the buzz from the drinks at the party making me even more eager to pick up where we’d left off with that kiss.

"Are you hopping in the bath with me?" I asked, shooting Dave a coy smile as he loosened his tie. He smiled back and walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist and planting a soft kiss on my lips, while his hand fumbled for the zipper of my dress.

He paused when we heard knocks on the door. I frowned, wondering if it could be hotel staff or something. Dave sighed, annoyed, as the knocking continued.

"Better shut off the tap before we flood the room," he remarked, and I chuckled softly. "Let me handle this while you do it."

I headed into the bathroom, shutting off the tap as I listened to Dave dealing with whoever was at the door. I perked up, intrigued, when I heard a familiar voice followed by Dave's tense and irritated tone:

"You've got some guts showing up here, huh?"

I furrowed my brow, puzzled, and went back to the room, my jaw dropped in confusion when I spotted James at the door, locking eyes with Dave in a standoff.

"James?" I blurted out, taken aback, and both men turned to look at me, frustration and anger etched on both their faces. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He eyed me for a beat, tension thickening as Dave's gaze drilled into him. It was like mixing gasoline with a lit match; all of us were already worked up and intoxicated after a night of partying, and James clearly had some bones to pick with both Dave and me. James made a move to step into the room, but Dave cut him off, blocking the entrance with his arm.

"She asked you a fucking question," Dave growled, and James finally glanced at him, a sarcastic smirk creeping onto his lips.

"I came here to talk to her, not to you," James slurred, his voice thick with alcohol. Dave looked ready to snap, his free hand balling into a fist.

"Dave," I stepped in, grabbing his arm and easing it down. He turned to me, and I placed my hand on his chest. "It's alright. Let him in."

Dave sighed heavily but reluctantly moved aside, his face tight with tension, his eyes burning with anger and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"You're like her little lapdog, aren't you? Whatever she wants, you jump, just to keep her happy," James remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I shot him a disapproving look, furrowing my brow, but before I could respond, Dave interrupted with a growl:

"And what about you, huh? You're here to grovel for her forgiveness?" Dave stepped forward, confronting James with a challenging glare. I glanced nervously between them, reaching out to touch Dave's arm in a futile attempt to calm him, but he shrugged me off. "I see the way you look at her, Hetfield. You think I don't notice? You're pathetic."

"That's the crux of it, isn't it?" James snarled. "You and I, we're cut from the same cloth. We both crave her love, her attention, hoping we'll be the lucky one she picks in this messed-up game."

"Except she already chose me," Dave shot back. "Game over. And you know I don't like sharing what's mine."

"Maybe you guys should give it a shot," I blurted out, without really thinking, eager to diffuse the tension between them, but instantly regretting it. Dave and James both turned to look at me, wearing expressions of disbelief, while I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Um... I just meant..."

"Try sharing you?" Dave chuckled, as if what I’d said was totally nonsensical. I blushed when he gently lifted my chin with his hand, locking eyes with me as he leaned in close, his words a soft whisper, "You don't even know what you're asking for, do you, sweetheart?"

"I just don't want you guys fighting," I murmured, pleadingly. "Please, Dave. You know I care about both of you."

James chuckled, shifting our focus away from each other. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, he had that same intense look in his eyes as when we’d talked earlier — anger, jealousy, and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on at first, but then recognized: longing.

"You always play nice with everyone and it drives me fucking crazy," he remarked, moving closer and closing the door behind him. My heart raced as his hand trailed down my neck to collarbone, all while Dave kept a close eye on him. "There's no escaping this, Nore. Choosing one means hurting the other. And he's got a point." James shot a glance at Dave, who raised an eyebrow. "I'm not exactly great at sharing what's mine either. You know you can't have us both, right?"

"I know. But I don't wanna lose either of you," I admitted, feeling my cheeks heat up as James came closer with a growl, planting his lips on mine. I gasped in surprise, and he seized the moment to slip his tongue into my mouth, his hands firm on my waist. I let out a soft moan as I felt Dave's lips on my neck, planting slow kisses until he reached my ear.

"You sure about this?" he questioned, and I nodded, shutting my eyes and yielding to James' kiss, eliciting a soft growl from him as I tangled my fingers in his hair. "Didn't know you were this greedy, babe," Dave murmured, but he didn't seem upset, more like amused.

Was this really happening? It was hard to wrap my head around it, hard to think straight as the lips of the two men I loved roamed over my mouth, my neck, my skin, igniting sensations that made my whole body tingle. Dave's fingers deftly unzipped my dress.

"Talk to me," James whispered in my ear, and I shut my eyes, my lips parting slightly as I exhaled, Dave still planting kisses on my neck as he eased down my dress. "Tell me you want this, I gotta hear it from you."

"Please, I want both of you," I breathed out, and Dave tightened his grip around my waist, pulling me snug against his body while James teased my earlobe.

I let out a sigh as Dave tilted my head, locking his lips with mine, our tongues moving together while James worked on unclasping my bra and took a nipple into his mouth, giving it a playful nip before leaving small hickeys all over my soft skin. I couldn't help but moan, the sensations overwhelming me. I was completely lost in the moment, swept away by the touch of both of them. It was beyond anything I'd ever dared to dream.

James backed off a bit, his hands resting gently on my hips while Dave went back to peppering my neck with kisses, his hardness pressed against my butt. I stole a glance at James, noticing his distant gaze and flushed cheeks as he watched me, his fingers tracing my cheek softly.

"How do you pull it off? You're still perfect even when you're messing with my head," James muttered, and Dave snarled softly, leaning his head on my shoulder, their eyes locking for a moment. James' expression was hard, revealing a blend of frustration and reluctant acceptance.

"Why do you think I'm crazy about her?" Dave murmured, his lips trailing from my neck up to my jawline in a slow, deliberate path.

I sighed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as I sensed a kind of understanding forming between the three of us, albeit slowly; Dave and James were like two sides of the same coin, always had been, brothers of fire and anger even before all their pain had driven them apart. Was it such a shocker that they'd both end up falling for the same woman? Was it such a surprise that I'd end up loving them both?

Maybe we always knew it would eventually lead to this. Maybe we’d all been waiting for this moment, a collision of stars, like waves crashing on the shore on a rainy day. It was dangerous, but exhilarating — so much so that I almost wished we wouldn't cross this line, because I knew I could never come back.

But, at least from now, it seemed good enough to be worth it.

James took a step back, loosening his shirt’s buttons and slipping it off gradually, working on undoing his pants next. I watched him, feeling a shiver run down my spine as Dave's hands caressed my breasts softly. I let out a sigh as James came closer, and reached out, my fingers tracing the edge of his underwear slowly. James grunted, grabbing my hand on his and pressing it against the outline of his erection.

"No way," Dave grunted, clutching my wrist tightly, while James arched an eyebrow. "She's mine first. You can watch," he declared, and James chuckled, rolling his eyes with a smirk. Dave wrapped his arm around my waist, pivoting me to face him, and planted a slow kiss on my lips as I unfastened his shirt.

"Is this your way of proving I'm yours?" I whispered, and he grunted against my lips. "By fucking me in front of him?"

Dave didn't say a word; he guided me to the bed, laying me down and sliding off my panties before undoing his pants and lowering them. James joined us on the bed, shedding his underwear and stretching out, placing my head on his thigh and tenderly running his fingers through my hair, his gaze fixed on my face as he caressed it. Dave finished stripping, then climbed on top of me; I shut my eyes, letting out a soft moan as he pushed into me and I felt him spread me open. James let out a low, rough sound, leisurely stroking my hair. When I looked at him, I saw he held his hard cock in his hand, jerking it softly.

I shifted my gaze to Dave, who kissed me slowly, his intense hazel eyes serious as he pushed into me. His lips moved against mine, his tongue intertwining with mine as he thrust forcefully. I let out soft moans against his mouth, tears brimming in my eyes from the pleasure of feeling him inside me.

"Dave…" I whispered, and he groaned, pulling me close, our gazes locking in a heated embrace.

I wrapped my legs around his hips, urging him to go deeper, gripping his hair tightly. James growled, tilting my face up and guiding his cock to my lips. I eagerly opened my mouth, taking him in, and he moaned softly. Dave kissed my neck, sucking on the tender skin, leaving even more bruises that sent shivers down my spine, but I didn't mind. In that moment, all I could focus on was the sensation of James and Dave, both of them, with me, together.

"Fuck," Dave whispered in my ear, his actions growing more fervent. "If I knew it felt this good to have you with an audience, I would've suggested it ages ago."

"If I knew you'd be into it, I would've brought it up sooner," I whispered back, stroking James' cock slowly with my hand and sighing when Dave started to massage my clit with his fingertips. I moaned, gripping him tightly, and he shut his eyes, thrusting into me with more vigor.

"You're almost there, aren't you?" Dave whispered, and I nodded, unable to form words. James gently brushed away the tears of ecstasy that welled in my eyes, his touch so tender it sent shivers down my spine. I took him back into my mouth, and he let out a soft groan, moving slowly as I continued to pleasure him.

I let out a long, satisfied moan, tightening around Dave as waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and breathless. Dave groaned, his face buried in my neck as he reached his own climax, his release flooding into me with a low grunt.

Taking a moment to catch my breath, I pulled James out of my mouth, my lips meeting Dave’s as he shifted beside me. He brushed the hair away from my face, planting gentle kisses along my neck and shoulders as I took James back in my mouth, meeting his gaze with a mixture of desire and satisfaction.

James tangled his fingers in my hair, guiding my movements as his hips rocked gently. His flushed face and parted lips revealed his arousal as I worked my tongue, eliciting soft sighs from him. Meanwhile, Dave's kisses grew more fervent, his hand trailing down to where my body was still slick with our fluids. His touch on my already overstimulated clit made me shiver, and I couldn't help but moan in response. James then bucked his hips forward with a moan, tightening his grip on my head, his release filling my mouth with a warmth that sent a thrill through me.

"Good girl," Dave murmured approvingly as James pulled away from my mouth, running a finger along my slightly swollen lips. I swallowed, feeling a rush of warmth and satisfaction. I turned to Dave, and he leaned in, planting slow kisses along my jawline. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment, but Dave gently cupped my face, urging me to look at him. "Don't shut your eyes, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "We're not done with you yet."

I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush and my heart beat faster as Dave shifted away and James pulled me onto his lap, my legs wrapping around his hips as I sensed him growing hard once more. Dave let out a sigh, positioning himself behind me, his hands firmly on my waist providing support as he nibbled on my earlobe. I closed my eyes, nestling my face into James' neck and wrapping my arms around it as Dave raised my hips, allowing James to enter me with deliberate slowness.

This was gonna be a long, long night.

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[bubbledtee]

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀʀᴍᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

Warnings: smoking, drinking, social anxiety, sexual references

Word count: 4.8k

beta-read by @30-3am

contents

playlist

✧.* "In a small corner bar he sits there a-drinkin'. Lost as a ball in a field full of corn. Further away than he ever imagined that he'd ever end up from the place he was born." ~ "Creeker", Tyler Childers ✧.*

a/n: this shit took so long to get out i'm giggling

»»——⍟——««

🇳​​🇪​​🇼​ ​🇨​​🇴​​🇼​​🇧​​🇴​​🇾​ ​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇹​​🇴​​🇼​​🇳​ (Ch. 1)

January 22nd, 1994 - La Veta, CO

Bea held herself in the passenger seat of Zoe’s red Buick LeSabre, the well-below-freezing Colorado weather penetrating the vehicle despite shut windows and cranked heat. She cursed herself for letting Abigail convince her to wear the black, form-fitting turtle-neck dress from her closet, wishing she had opted for a nice pair of blue jeans and a warm sweater instead. She just hoped the heating at the old dive bar would suffice not to freeze her to death tonight.

“Don’t look so sad, B! You’re seein’ the outside world for once,” Abigail’s Kentucky accent was thicker than usual as she pushed Bea’s shoulder slightly from the backseat. “You’re too wrapped up with those damn horses, you need a night off!”

Bea looked behind her into the backseat. The tall, southern blonde held a cigarette between her long, thin fingers, her hand hanging lazily as she balanced her elbow on her knee. Someone walking down the street would know the girl was a Southern beauty just from a glance. She wore too much makeup and an excessive amount of pink that was an eyesore to anybody in their right mind, but most men she was after didn’t so much care about her style as they did about what the dress hid from their perverted gaze.

Bea giggled. “I’m not sad, Abby. I’m just fucking freezing,” she told her, snatching the cigarette from Abigail’s fingers. She brought the lipstick-stained stick up to her mouth and took a long drag, the burn that began to fill her chest, warming her from the inside out. She held the smoke in as she handed the cigarette to Audrey, the girl brushing her ginger curls from her freckled face.

“I shouldn’t have let you convince me to wear this god-awful dress. I’m freezing and I look ridiculous,” Bea grumbled.

There was a collective chorus of ‘no’s’ as soon as she uttered the self-deprecating words, “Shut your mouth, you look gorgeous. You’re just not used to seeing yourself cleaned up!” Zoe insisted, momentarily averting her gaze from the barren and beat-up road to look at Bea. The brunette wore a dubious expression with an eye roll, and Zoe gently hit her arm in retaliation. “I’m serious!”

“And even if you didn’t look good, you’ve gotta be confident. It makes anything look good,” Audrey chimed from the back seat, “I mean, it even makes Abby’s dresses look good on her.”

The already-tipsy blonde gasped beside her, “Fuck you!” she playfully exclaimed, shoving Audrey slightly. “They look good either way,”

The other girls laughed, “Yeah, maybe at some hick beauty pageant in Kentucky.” Audrey rebutted, her face twisted into a wicked grin as she poked fun at her friend.

Bea just shook her head and laughed, watching from the car’s front window. She watched as the sign that read ‘LA VETA’ grew closer and closer until the vehicle eventually passed it - her eyes shifting to the tiny rows of buildings that now enclosed the road on either side.

The minuscule town was one she knew well, memories of walking along the sidewalks with her parents and brothers immediately flooding her mind every time she crossed the threshold. It was the closest town to Lone Wolf Ranch with any civilization, meaning it was the only place the family could shop, eat out, or anything in between. The only times Bea went into town was to buy herself new tack and blankets for horses, or when her friends dragged her into a night out–just like tonight. 

The car slowly pulled into the Magpie Inn’s tiny parking lot, Zoe leaning forward slightly to search for an open parking space. Bea looked around, too, searching for any cars she knew. The number of old F-250s and Silverado 3500s that crowded the parking lot made it evident enough that the place would be full of cowboys who had been enjoying their day off at the bar since before noon. And just as she had expected, she recognized almost every vehicle there.

After a minute, Zoe pulled the car into one of the last open parking spots in the lot and shut the vehicle off. The group hopped out before swiftly shuffling toward the bar's front doors, attempting to preserve their warmth as much as possible.

Bea could hear the buzz of the neon sign that hung beside the door as they approached it, its bright lights flashing ‘OPEN’. The warmth of the light almost seemed to radiate off the sign and reach her, and she could feel her face warm slightly as they approached the door.

However, warmth enveloped her significantly stronger when Audrey opened the building’s doors. Not only that, but the pungent stench of liquor and beer that doused everyone’s breath inside found her too, all of it topped off by the booming sound of a country band that sat at the other side of the establishment–playing an upbeat tune.

As they entered the room, Bea practically hid behind her friends like a small child. She felt so stupid for being shy around people she had mainly known for years, but she couldn’t help the embarrassment that flooded her as she imagined what everybody thought about the girl being dressed up like she was. All she could imagine was negativity and internalized insults of all types.

Zoe suddenly pulled Bea from her negative thoughts as she spoke, “Come on, let’s get you a drink. You need something to help you loosen up,” She softly grabbed Bea’s hand and led her toward the bar, carefully weaving through the crowd of drunk cowboys and tradesmen alike. She thought a few blurs of faces seemed familiar, but she was thankful she didn’t have the time to do a double take as she and Zoe reached the bar. 

Bea leaned over the bar as her counterpart ordered their drinks, her voice bubbly as she did so. She looked down the bar to her left and observed the folks who sat on the old, cracked leather seat stools along the wooden barrier. Most were older men her father knew well–ones that had long been left by their wives and now drink themselves to death by their lonesome. Some of them make their way from those ruts and redeem themselves as her father and her brother, Johnny, had, but others have no desire to fix themselves. Such as her brother Tommy. She shook the thought from her head as Zoe handed her a Heineken, the cold condensation freezing her fingertips.

She sipped the beer lightly, letting the cold bubbles spread across her tongue and sting slightly down her throat. She never was much of a fan of beer, the scent of the hops often ruining her enjoyment of the otherwise refreshing drink, but right then, she really didn’t seem to mind. Anything that would slightly calm her nerves was worth whatever it might take.

The two walked back toward the other girls, Zoe carrying their beers with her own. Bea followed close behind her as though she were a lost puppy looking for her mother; if she were quite honest, she felt like she was.

They reached Audrey and Abby, and Zoe handed them their drinks. Joking words were shared between the three as Bea’s gaze turned longingly toward the door. She felt pathetic for how much she wanted to leave, like such a nuisance to her poor friends who simply wanted to take her from the nights they deemed lonely. But she didn’t quite enjoy seeing so many longtime family friends (or foes) in one place simultaneously.

As her mind drifted off and her gaze lingered on the door, a tall, blonde cowboy walked through the ingress. He looked almost anxious as he tucked his hands into his Storm Rider’s pockets and glanced around the room, his eyes catching Bea’s. Even from a distance, she could admire the icy blue irises beneath his beaten and dirty cowboy hat. She’d never seen him before.

Before she could longer study his handsome and rugged features, a tap on her shoulder made her head whip in the opposite direction.

“You okay, babe?” Zoe asked her with a tilt of her head, her eyes soft.

Bea nodded quickly with a flushed face. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m good.” She sent a forced smile her friend's way and watched as Zoe’s gaze shifted beyond her and toward the bar. A grin slowly crept onto her face before looking back at Bea.

“He’s cute,” she muttered, causing the pink flush of Bea’s face to turn bright red. Bea rolled her eyes and looked away from Zoe and down at her shoes, almost ashamed. Ever since her last long-term boyfriend left her high and dry two years ago, she hadn’t much tried to find a new lover. Sure, she’d had a rebound or two when she was slumped after the breakup, and she’d tried to have them fill the emptiness that lingered within her heart, but it was either too soon or not enough. So she’d simply given up after a year and decided she’d focus on her father’s ranch rather than a lover. It would be more simple that way, she thought.

However, her desire for a lover had been growing within the prior months, and maybe that’s what gave her the final push to go out with the other girls that night. But she wasn’t sure.

Zoe’s face scrunched in slight disgust as she looked back at the blonde man, “Ugh, but that haircut…” she grimaced, making Bea turn her head to look at him. He had removed his cowboy hat, and his hair was long, with the sides and top cut to make a long mullet. It was reminiscent of a haircut that her sophomore-year boyfriend, Donovan, had had. But she didn’t mind. She supposed the poor choice of haircut was brave in its own kind of way.

“It’s not horrible,” she murmured, not even realizing she was defending the mysterious man. Her gaze lingered a bit longer as he removed his coat, revealing a black long-sleeve shirt with a bleach stain imprinted upon the left sleeve. She only looked away when he glanced back at her after ordering a drink. Bea’s face turned a deep red.

Zoe laughed, “Oh, my god, he’s blushing!”

Bea shook her head, “Shut up. How can you even tell? He looked the other way,” she muttered anxiously, “Stop looking at him, you’re being weird.”

Abby and Audrey turned away from their conversation to inch closer to the two, “What are we looking at?” Audrey asked before taking a sip of her beer.

“The guy with the mullet at the bar,” Zoe told her, pointing at him. Bea wanted to shrink down to the size of an ant and be stepped on right then and there. The situation was beyond embarrassing. “He and Bea were ogling each other,”

Audrey and Abby turned to look at him, “I’ve never seen him around before,” Abby said as she stared at the back of his head. Bea could only imagine how the girls' eyes were burning through the poor man’s skull. She was half expecting his brains to explode under their gaze.

Audrey shook her head, “Me neither,” she agreed. The trio looked back at Bea with wide grins spread across their faces. They seemed oddly excited at the prospect of her simply making eye contact with someone of the opposite sex. Was she really that much of a loser?

“You’ve gotta go talk to him, B!” Abby cheered, the other two girls agreeing in unison.

Bea just looked between the three of them, thoughts racing her mind. He was handsome, but she wasn’t sure if she was fit to simply approach him and attempt conversation. She was more than out of practice regarding anything of that nature.

She began to stutter out an excuse, “I-I don’t wanna bother him-”

Zoe interrupted her with a soft nudge to the shoulder, “There’s not a single man – especially not a cowboy – that would mind being bothered by a pretty girl like you. You know that, baby.” She brought her beer bottle up to her lips and took a quick swig; Bea just gave her a look and silently pleaded with her. Zoe gave a short nod and an understanding smile, “But it’s up to you.”

Bea exhaled a sigh of relief as the other two silently agreed, but not before Abby gave her two cents. “But you’d look adorable with him, B. Even more adorable than you look on your own.”

Bea smiled appreciatively, and with that, the mysterious cowboy was seemingly forgotten. The group carried on with conversation, occasionally running into familiar faces and catching up with each other’s lives over drinks. It slowly became nice for Bea. She wasn’t even entirely sure why she had been nervous to be there in the first place.

However, between drinks and increasingly easier conversation, Bea couldn’t help but sneak looks at the man from before. She’d occasionally catch him gazing softly in her direction already, but when she wouldn’t, she’d admire his features from afar—or at least the ones she could see from where she was standing.

His back was toned–she could tell through his shirt that hugged his broad shoulders–and wide arms. At one point, she had caught him standing to make his way to the bathroom, and she just couldn’t pry her eyes away from his ass. She figured it was better than her own.

With such a physique, she could tell he’d been working for most of his life, and as more alcohol coursed throughout her system, she wondered what that physique was like without such a pesky shirt. She wondered what his muscular thighs were beneath that nettlesome blue denim. Most of all, she wondered how a man she’d never spoken to before could have her practically drooling for doing nothing but minding his own business.

By the bottom of her third beer, Bea was beyond relaxed. She remembered how nice seeing old friends and catching up on small-town drama could be, and she spoke more than she had in the last month. With the growth of her confidence, her consideration of talking to the blonde cowboy grew, too. How horribly could it go? He was lonely, that much was obvious, and she figured he wouldn’t mind the company.

Bea looked back at the man as she took a drag of her cigarette. There was a perfectly free barstool right next to him, and she could hear it calling her name over the booming of the dive bar’s live band. She turned to Zoe and yelled over the thumping bass, “I’m gonna go get another beer,” her voice came out raspy, her throat tired from needing to speak over all their surrounding sounds.

“Okay,” Zoe shouted back. Bea didn’t quite understand how her friend was dealing with the surrounding crowd essentially sober, but she supposed she respected it.

“Do you mind grabbing me one, too?” Audrey asked–a significant slur to her voice.

Bea nodded her head, secretly regretting announcing where she was headed. She looked over at Abby, considering asking if she wanted one too, but she could tell from her company of wasted cowboys that she was more than well off.

Bea flicked her cigarette anxiously and turned toward the bar, beginning to weave through the maze of drunkards. She was smaller than just about everyone in the room, and pushing through the crowd was a task that seemed nearly impossible to her. It was almost like she was invisible as she brushed past drunk cowboys and their equally inebriated female counterparts, people only moving if she pushed them with some force. She truly wondered how difficult it was to be spacially aware as she wedged between the last few layers of people.

Finally, Bea pushed through the thick herd of drunkards and to the line that sat in front of the bar. 

Immediately, her eyes were on him.

He had his arm propped up on the bar, his chin gently rested in his hand. His eyes were lazily focused on the hockey game that played on the boxy television hung from the ceiling behind the bar. The Boston Bruins were playing the Philadelphia Flyers, two teams that the mid-westerners who occupied the rest of the bar couldn’t have cared less about, and neither did he, it seemed. But it was something to occupy him, Bea was sure.

She continued to watch as he grabbed his beer bottle and brought it to his lips, taking a thick swig of the bubbly beverage. He huffed a sigh as he set the bottle down.

Bea took a drag of her cigarette and allowed the nicotine to cool her rising nerves. She looked back at the girls she had left, immediately locking eyes with a grinning Zoe. Bea looked away and down at her feet, a blush painting her face. Now she really couldn’t back out, unless she wanted to be chastised endlessly by her best friend for not committing to the chance she was about to take.

With a final drag of her cigarette, Bea looked into the smudged mirror behind the liquor shelves of the bar. She cursed that stupid dress she wore, telling herself how ridiculous it looked. Why couldn’t she have just worn jeans and a blouse? She’d look cuter and be comfier.

Silently, she shook the thoughts from her head as she remembered what Audrey said in the car earlier. 

Whatever, Bea thought, Confidence, B, that’s all you need.

She stood straight, adjusting her body language to display confidence, hoping it looked even somewhat natural. She looked back at where Zoe had been staring from, only to find the back of her head. No more eyes on her, good.

With her sleight confidence, Bea walked up to the barstool beside the blonde and sat, setting her forearms upon the bar. She was there. It was a step in the right direction. All she had to do now was start a conversation. Somehow.

In an attempt to stall for time, she waved down the bartender and asked for another beer, hoping it would convince the man beside her that he wasn’t the entire reason she had sat down. Though, he seemed to have not noticed her presence as he lit a cigarette and kept his focus on the hockey game in front of him.

Bea watched from the corner of her eye as he took a long drag and flicked the ash into the tray that sat to the left of him. As he did so, his eyes followed the cigarette, stopping only when they seemed to catch something on the bar. Right then, she noticed just how blue his eyes were; they were only a shade or two darker than the noon sky.

“There you are, darlin’.” The bartender smiled at Bea as he set a cold Heineken in front of her.

She looked up, her eyes wide in something akin to confusion before awkwardly smiling back. “Oh! Thanks,” she spoke. The bartender nodded and turned away, making his way to a drunkard waving him down elsewhere.

Bea’s attention slyly turned back towards the blonde beside her. His eyebrows were furrowed in what seemed to be curiosity, and Bea tried to follow where exactly he was looking. She looked at the ashtray and slowly tracked further left until her gaze met her hand.

“What’s that say?” the man asked, his voice enough to melt Bea into a puddle.

She looked at him, her head tilting. “What?” she nearly squeaked.

“The tattoo,” he pointed to the ink inscribed on top of her hand, “What’s it say?”

His voice was thick and gruff but had a deep smoothness to it that made Bea’s head spin. She looked back at her hand, almost as if she was unaware of the emblem written into her skin. “Oh,” she looked at him, her cheeks flushed a bright red. “Blondie,” she finally told him as she rolled her sleeve up just a bit to reveal the entire tattoo. The name had been inscribed in calligraphy below the print date of “9/26/1988”, a small heart attached to the tail of the ‘e’ on the calligraphy with it all encircled by the depiction of a horseshoe.

“What’s the date for?” the cowboy asked, twisting his upper body towards the woman beside him and bringing his cigarette back to his lips.

Bea sat up straight, “It’s the day he died,” she told him before stumbling to cover her vagueness, “Blondie, a horse of mine. First horse I ever broke on my own,”

The man’s eyebrows shot up, obviously expecting a different, much happier answer. Whatever that may have been. “Oh, m’sorry.” he muttered, clearing his throat and taking a swig of his beer.

“That’s alright,” Bea smiled softly, her heart thumping hard against her ribcage as she spoke with him. Even over the sound of the dive bar’s band, she was sure he could hear it too.

He took another quick drag of his cigarette before stubbing it in the glass ashtray. His hands were big and rough, obviously made from years of work. Bea’s stomach coiled slightly at the sight as her mind wandered. She thought about how they’d feel on her back, her hips, her thighs…

“I like it, though,” he told her, snapping her from her sinful thoughts. He looked up at her, “Not many folks have tattoos. It’s different,”

She was sure her face was beet red as she smiled at him, “Thank you,” she said. “Usually, people ask me if I was drunk when I decided to get it. Or if I worship Satan.”

The cowboy squinted and scoffed before saying, “For a tattoo commemorating a dead horse?”

She shrugged, “They say it’s a Pagan practice.” The cowboy just shook his head and rolled his eyes as he took a final swig of his beer. Bea spoke, “Pretty sure Pagans don’t worship Satan, either.”

“People just like hearing themselves talk,” he grumbled, placing the empty beer bottle on the bar. “Always have something to say about how you live your life. It’s dumb.”

“Agreed,” Bea nodded, reaching for her untouched beer bottle. She took a swig as the cowboy returned to watching the TV, the game at the tail end of the third period. Now she had to start more conversation. She reached into her dress’s pocket and pulled out her pack of Marlboro Reds alongside a lighter. As she plucked a cigarette from the pack, she spoke. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

The man looked at her, “Definitely not,” he smiled softly. “I’m originally from a bit further west, little town called Durango.”

Bea nodded, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, yeah! My daddy won a big barrel racing title out that way in ‘68 at the uh…”

“Fiesta Days Rodeo?”

“Yeah! That’s it!”

The cowboy nodded, his entire body turned on the barstool towards Bea. He had a prideful smirk on his face, “That’s the first rodeo I ever rode in. Junior bull riding in ‘77 when I was 14. Fell off in three seconds,”

Bea tilted her head and smiled, “You’re a bull rider?”

“Was, for about two years. Then I started doing some of the calf roping in the rodeo. I did a whole lot better with that, nowhere near as many head injuries.” he told her, picking up his hat from the bar and placing it on his knee to dust it off. “I tried barrel racing, but I never really got the hang of it. Cutting was the most fun, though. It feels like working a herd, except you’re in a ring,”

Bea nodded, “I did lots of cutting before Blondie died. He knew how to work cattle better than any old ranch horse we had,” she told him, “I still breed and train cutters and barrel racers, competing’s just harder nowadays.”

“You sell ‘em, too?” he asked, an eyebrow quirked.

She nodded, a grin plastered across her face. “Yeah. Why? You interested?”

The man snorted and put his hat on, “You’re funny,”

Bea giggled, “Come on, any self-respecting man wants a good working horse!” she took a tender sip of her beer.

The cowboy gave her a sardonic look, “Do I look like I have any self-respect, Miss…”

“Dalton,” she answered, “Lorelei Dalton, just call me Bea.”

“Where does ‘Bea’ come from out of ‘Lorelei Dalton’?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes, only then realizing just how loose her once-tensed muscles had become. “My middle name is Bernadette if you really have to know.”

The blonde nodded before sticking out his hand for her to shake, “James Hetfield,” he said as she grabbed it and they shook.

Bea’s hand was warm in his grip, his hand almost twice the size of hers and calloused from his years of work. “What brings you out here, then, Mr. Hetfield?”

“James,” he corrected with a smirk, “And just work. I was in Wyoming working a ranch this past year, but the guy who owned the place was a shady fuck. Didn’t ever pay any of his cowpunchers quite what he owed, so I just sort of up and left.”

Bea nodded, “I’d have done the same,” she said, “Why didn’t you go back to Durango?”

He shrugged. “It’s in my past,”

She took it as an ‘I don’t wanna talk about it,’.

“Well, there’s plenty of cattle to work out this way.” she told him, “I hope you find someone who’ll pay you what they owe,”

“Yeah, me too.” James chuckled. His laugh sent Bea’s insides fluttering. It was adorable. “I dunno, I’ve got a ‘trial’ for a job, I guess. Over in Cuchara. I start tomorrow,”

Bea leaned on the bar top, “Maybe I’ll be seeing you around often, then.” she told him. His head tilted in curiosity at her words. “My family’s ranch is out in Cuchara, ‘Lone Wolf’. My daddy and my brother work the cattle.

“Just them?” he asked.

Bea nodded, “Our herd isn’t huge right now, we had a bad calving yield this past spring.” she told him, taking a swig of her beer before continuing. “What’s the name of the ranch you’re gonna be working?”

James shrugged, “I forgot,” he simply said.

Bea gave him an unimpressed look, “Really?”

“Really.” he affirmed, “I’ve got the address, though.” he began fishing through his jeans’ pockets, but before he could pull anything from them, Bea felt a tap on her shoulder. She whipped her head around.

“Hey, babe. We’ve gotta go,” Zoe told her, her hand now grabbing for the meaty part of Bea’s arm.

“Wh-” Bea began, but her eyes soon fell upon Audrey, who was attempting to hold the attention of a tall, dark-haired cowboy across the room. However, his dark eyes were narrowed and focused overtop of the woman’s head. Straight at Bea. “Oh,” was all she could muster as her stomach dropped to her feet.

“Yeah,” Zoe said before looking over at James, who now sat dumbfounded and almost upset that this random woman had interrupted their conversation. He held a small piece of paper in his hand. “Sorry.” Zoe told him sincerely, “Just look her up in the Yellow Pages, or something.”

With that, Zoe and Bea began out the door. Bea turned to wave at the blonde cowboy, finding his now-longing and sad eyes following her out the door. He waved back at her with a sigh before standing and grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. She felt horrible. But she also needed to get out of there.

“What’s he doing here?” she asked Zoe, wide-eyed as they burst through the entrance. The bitter wind stung their cheeks.

Zoe shrugged, “He just came up to Audrey and asked if you were with us,” she unlocked her car’s door, and the two got into the vehicle. She stuck the key in the ignition, and the engine struggled to a start.

“I thought he’d left town!” Bea exclaimed as she shivered, trying to warm up as the car pushed hot air through its vents. “When is he going to fucking leave me alone?! We fucked twice. Twice! A year ago! That’s it!”

Zoe nodded, “I know. He’s a creep.”

Right then, the doors to the bar burst open, Audrey and Abigail drunkenly stumbling out with something akin to haste. Abigail was leaning against Audrey, her drunkenness reducing her to the balance of a toddler. They raced across the parking lot and burst the car doors open as soon as they reached them.

“We’ve got to go,” Audrey practically shouted as she slammed the door beside her. “Fucker tried grabbing me,”

Zoe whipped around, “What?!”

The man in question emerged from the entrance.

“Zoe, go,” Bea told her friend firmly. The car was then quickly put into gear, and they whipped out of the parking lot, leaving the old dive bar in the dust.

[ju777tine]

someone please recommend some fics about james on wattpad or ao3, I would be very grateful 🫶🏽❣️

[hellmunsonfire]

New jacket.

[kirkycurls]

You Jump, I Jump, Jack

When a gorgeous metalhead and his band move into town, your dreary summer pouring coffees is turned on its head—for the better.

*Set in some nondescript American town *Story Kirk is 88/89!Kirk (26/27) and MC is 24 *Not necessarily historically accurate band-wise and I'm not American so bear with me *5 chapters *Fairly sfw but theme of alcoholism *Happy ending!

Chapter One

CWs for this chapter: None.

It had been raining for weeks in your small town: industrial bins floating down the street; kids walking to school with silt up to their knees—the kind of June weather nobody saw coming but now nobody could stop talking about.

You didn’t mind it so much. Tucked away behind the counter of Yvette’s pouring coffees all day for mostly middle-aged men reading newspapers, you could stay dry and keep tabs on what was going on outside through the little chocolate box window out front. Spending your weekdays here since graduating college wasn’t what you’d expected, but since your parents had moved even further upstate you’d wanted to feel more financially secure, single as you were.

It was past 11 on Tuesday morning and the rain had slowed to a drizzle. The cafe was empty save for an older couple playing Yvette’s ancient game of mini chess by the radiator and her son Steve wiping down the table by the door. 

“Ste”, you managed, half-focused on the van that had just pulled up at the old Sunday school across the street. “Ste”, you tried again, louder this time.

“What?”, he asked, turning around. “I’m mid-wipe here, sweet. You can’t disrupt the magic man mid-wipe.” 

You laughed, “Spray’s topped up”. 

Gesturing at the bottle of cleaner you’d just refilled, you rolled your eyes with a smile as he approached the counter with a look of mock offence.

Still smiling to yourself, your eyes wandered past him to the dark-haired guy that had just jumped out of the van, his face screwed up in disgust as he looked down at the muddy water lapping round his ankles. Another guy appeared behind him and practically fell out of the vehicle laughing, only to get his jeans soaked to the knee as he tripped on a hidden drainage cover. 

Boys, you thought. 

The dark-haired guy said something to his amused friend and looked around, taking in the street and the flood, eyes roaming disinterestedly until they landed on the coffee shop with the faded name of the owner above the door, and, through the small front window… you.

You swallowed. Feeling a presence to your right, you blinked and turned to see Steve watching you with an indiscernible look on his face. 

“Earth to the dreamer”, he mocked, switching to his usual grinning state, pumping his eyebrows like a five-year-old with a secret. “Fancy a heavy metal concert?”

“What?”, you huffed with a laugh. 

“Those guys are setting up shop in there”, he said, pointing towards the steady stream of instruments and various studio pieces a taller third guy was now hauling out the back of the van. “Metallica. Heard of ‘em?”

You shook your head.

“Seems they’ve been getting more shows recently so they wanna set up a permanent residence somewhere local—a sort of HQ.”

That broke you out of your reverie. 

“Um, and you know this how?”, you scoffed. Steve wasn’t exactly the type to be up to date with the town gossip. He could usually be found on his girlfriend’s couch with his hand down his pants and a baseball game on the TV when he wasn’t on shift. He wasn’t stupid and he definitely wasn’t a bad guy, but by your standards, he was beyond help.

✵

Before he could answer, a sudden gust of warm air blew into the cafe, the bell above the door protesting loudly. The napkins you’d tidied an hour before were whipped into a flurry. 

With a sigh, you knelt down to retrieve the stray few floating to the ground at your feet, hearing the approach of heavy, squelching boots. 

“Sorry…didn’t mean to ruin your good work”, a boyish male voice chuckled from above you. Returning to your feet, brow furrowed in mild exasperation, you locked eyes with the culprit. 

Grinning at you with a set of perfectly imperfect teeth, shining chocolate-brown eyes, and a mane of dark, glossy curls, the first guy from the van stood leaning against the counter, one hand outstretched with the offer of returning the collected napkins to their tray.

Damn. White noise fizzed inside your head as you unsuccessfully attempted a reply. He’s cute.

Steve sniggered behind you. 

“This is Kirk”, he laughed. 

You turned, a look of mild confusion on your face. 

“Hammett”, the guy from the van added, dropping his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Kirk’s in Metallica”, Steve continued, still amused by your temporary muteness. 

“Lead guitar, right?” 

Kirk smiled and nodded. 

“He was in here last week with his friend James.”

“Oh right, hi…”, you managed, suddenly self-conscious.

You turned to the counter, smoothing the fallen napkins back into formation. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Kirk’s gaze lingering on your face. 

“Yeah, it’s me, James, Jason, and Lars”, he said, attention back on Steve.

You breathed an internal sigh of relief for being momentarily unobserved. 

Another few seconds of awkward napkin twiddling elapsed until you realised you hadn’t said anything and both Kirk and Steve were expecting you to speak…

Accepting that the obsessively flat paper couldn’t get any flatter, you took a breath; fixing your best customer service smile before diving into a string of questions…

First for Steve: What day did they visit the cafe last week? Did you make them lunch? Did you tell him about me?

And then Kirk: What’s the situation with redecorating the Sunday-school-turned-heavy-metal-headquarters? Don’t you think it’s funny that it’ll go from a religious building to a house of vice? Why are you so gorgeous…?

In the process, you learned that Kirk and James (the tall, muscular one you’d seen unloading gear) had headed over for a takeout order last Friday whilst finalising the rent on the new place. It was particularly busy that day—Fridays always were—and you didn’t remember seeing them. Kirk explained how the daughter of the now deceased man who’d owned the school was practically begging them to take it off her hands, so the band had bought it for next to nothing. Kirk and James had taken most of the old furnishings to the dump already; all that really needed taking care of now was repainting the place and positioning their stuff. 

While the three of you talked, a large party of customers entered the cafe; each now in various states of shaking out umbrellas and settling down to browse the lunchtime menu. You knew the conversation would have to end soon, as the 12 o’clock rush could get pretty hairy.

Before you had a chance to pipe up, Steve chimed in. 

“Oh we can help out with a few licks of paint easy”, he said to no-one in particular, straightening up and taking in the still increasing crowd. You could hear the son-of-the-manager gears clicking in his head, greasing up in preparation to make a few extra tips.

His hand landed on your shoulder.

“Why don’t you take tomorrow off and help the guys. Mom’s gonna be around anyway; I’m sure she’ll understand and we both know you’re artistic”, he winked, referencing the time he’d caught you making sickeningly girly latte art when you were supposed to be servicing the coffee machine. 

Your eyes flew to Kirk who was looking more than pleased with the idea.

“Would you?” 

You hesitated, then nodded; a little bewildered and not sure how you felt about being roped in on your own.

“That’d be awesome, thanks.” He leant over and gave a light bump to your arm. 

You tried to suppress a smile. Butterflies.

“Great”, Steve grinned.

“I’ll let you both figure out the details. But right now could you deal with that delivery out back? I forgot to sort it earlier.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Hey, relax. I’ll deal with this crowd so just take your time. Nice to see you again, Kirk.”

A nod from Kirk. “Yeah you too, man.”

Left alone, Kirk turned to you; a cheeky smile dancing on his lips as he rapped the counter and said, “So…”.

You let out a light laugh. “What?”

“Need any help?” 

“Oh, no…you don’t have to to do that”, you replied, making your way behind the counter to grab some supplies but secretly hoping he’d push the point.

“Ah it’s no bother, trust me”, Kirk continued, following you halfway. "There’ll be nothing going on over there today except Lars arguing with James about the feng shui and me and Jase trying to mediate.”

You laughed, feeling some of the tension melting from your body.

He was nice.

“Nah, I’m just kidding; I don’t think either of them know what feng shui is.”

That earned a belly laugh from you. 

You knelt down to the cupboard under the sink to locate a pen, calculator and packing knife; letting your hair cover your face to hide your shyness after letting out such an indiscrete sound. 

“So can I?” Kirk asked. “Help?”

Finding what you needed, you straightened, finding Kirk firmly planted a few feet in-front of you with no sign of backing down.

“Uh yeah, sure…why not. I’ll make us some coffee”, you smiled. “It’s just through that door and right ahead—you’ll find it”, you said, watching as he wandered off in the direction you’d given.

“Awesome”, he fired back, “can’t wait”.

You watched him leave, hands reaching up playfully to hit the door frame as he went. 

You smiled to yourself. This was definitely not how you’d imagined your day playing out: meeting a cute metalhead, making plans to help paint his band’s new headquarters and now pouring black coffee into takeout cups so the pair of you could sort a delivery together? No, this was not what you were picturing for this so-far dismal summer. 

Securing the lids to the drinks, you pocketed the stock supplies in your apron and headed out back, coffee for two in hand.

✵

Parting Yvette’s handmade beaded curtain with your right shoulder, the wind chime over your head sang as you emerged from the back porch, crossing the few steps to the centre of the stock area and setting the cups on one of the two piles of delivery boxes filling the compact space. The stock area wasn’t much; in fact it was literally just Yvette’s garden, as she lived upstairs—a quaint, currently gazebo-roofed yard with stone-walled raised flower beds set around the perimeter.

Kirk was inspecting some gnarly looking plants in the far corner when you arrived, turning as you placed the coffee down to make a joke about The Day of the Triffids. It was true Yvette hadn’t given as much care to the flora and fauna out here as she had to the cafe, which was her pride and joy. She’d been out of town a lot recently on various craft retreats and managerial workshops, so the place needed a little TLC. 

Kirk picked up the coffee nearest him, cheersing it with the air in thanks before taking a sip and carefully placing it back. 

“So what’s first?” He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. 

You removed the packing knife from your apron and set it next to your own cup, then walked over to the other pile of boxes, hands on your hips as you considered the best way to start.

“I need to check the stock matches what’s listed on the invoices, so if you could maybe help stack them according to the package number that’d really help.”

“As you wish”, Kirk answered, shucking off his jacket and discarding it on the wall.

Five minutes or so passed as you stood back near the doorway watching Kirk shift the boxes. He was chatting away about his bandmates, giving you a colourful mental image of their individual personalities: James, the lead singer and a pretty wild partier; Lars, the Danish drummer, always with a cocky word to try and trip you up; and Jason, badass bassist who was all about working hard for the fans. 

You agreed to meet up outside their new place around nine the next morning, aware that you’d only been given one day off work thus far and impatient to see Kirk in his natural habitat. 

As you listened, offering him various strategic “mmm”s and “oh right”s, your eyes wandered not so innocently along his sweat-dampened neck and the straining muscles in his arms, down to the way his strong hands gripped the underside of the boxes… You noted how gently he set them down, heavy as they were. 

“What do you think then?” 

“Huh?” You snapped to as you realised Kirk had asked you a question, a slightly self-conscious look in his eye as if nervous for your response.  

You mentally traced back to what he’d been talking about while you were…gawping…and recalled him inviting you to pizza and beer that evening to meet the guys before everyone got to work tomorrow.

“Oh, yeah.” You exhaled a laugh. “Yeah of course, I’d love to.”

He looked relieved, and a bit excited, you thought.

“Ah great, I knew you’d be up for it”, he replied, back to his usual self. “I can show you around and you can finally tell me some more about you”, he joked, flicking some of the debris from the boxes at you. 

You both laughed, acknowledging that you hadn’t exactly been a chatty Cathy since he’d arrived. 

It was at that point you decided you actually liked this guy. He was relaxing to be around; interesting, kind, very attractive; and there was something in his eyes that made you feel a sense of kinship. He didn’t step on your toes but he didn’t shy away from trying to get closer either. 

Kirk took a step back to admire his handiwork. Very neat.

“That’ll do thanks, I can take it from here”, you smiled, peeling yourself away from the wall. 

“You sure?” He answered. 

“Yeah, honestly. This next bit’s pretty boring”, you chuckled. “Go and sit down—you’ve earned it.”

He looked relieved as he made his way back to his original spot, flinging himself down on his back on the wall with one hand gently pulling at a spray of pink carnations and the other hanging freely.

You turned back to the boxes with a smile, taking the calculator and pen from your apron pocket to start checking the invoices.

A minute or so of pleasant quiet fell as the conversation petered off. You busied yourself with the calculator, almost forgetting Kirk’s presence as you got into the details of the invoices taped to the side of each package.

Then, “I saw you last week you know.” 

You froze momentarily, pen between your teeth, glad you had your back to him so he wouldn’t see the slight blush tinging your cheekbones. It made you uncomfortable to know someone had perceived you without your noticing—especially him, with his big brown eyes and gorgeous curly hair you’d imagined running your fingers through more than a few times since your initial conversation inside.

“Is that okay?”, he interrupted the silence.

You turned around, pen dropping into your hand. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” 

He didn’t respond. He’d changed positions since before; now leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees and fingers steepled, observing you with the ghost of a smile and the kindest eyes. You felt your heart swell and then catch as you became aware of the seconds ticking by. 

God, this guy, you thought. 

No-one had had this kind of effect on you since…well, ever. No past boyfriend had looked at you like he was looking right now. 

Move, then. Don’t just stand here like an idiot.

You stretched forward to grab the packing knife from the first pile of boxes, desperate to break the awkwardness that had descended out of nowhere, but as soon as you reached for the handle, the safety clicked, shooting the blade into the still-full takeout cups and landing warm coffee all over Kirk’s thighs. “Shxt!”, you cried, hands flying to your mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

Kirk jumped up, visibly stunned but recovering quickly. Meanwhile, you were garbling out a string of profuse “Sorry”s and standing fixed to the spot, completely unable to move. 

“Hey, hey…it’s fine, relax”, Kirk assured you. You pulled your hands from your eyes to see him laughing, clearly unbothered. 

“I’ve got dirt up to my knees from the damn flood out front; these jeans obviously weren’t meant for me.” 

Your panic eased as you realised he wasn’t mad. You laughed awkwardly, tucking your arms around yourself in an attempt to calm down. Without a word, Kirk jogged past you through the beaded curtain.

Crap, is that really how that’s gonna end? 

You needn’t have worried. A few seconds later he returned with a wad of napkins and bent down to mop up the spillage. 

“If you knew how many times I’ve had to clean up puke from the floor in my house after a night with the guys, you wouldn’t be so worried”, he winked. 

You exhaled with a smile, hitching your skirt up a little to kneel down and help him. 

If you hadn’t both been busy sharing sweet glances and bumping arms as you cleaned up your first drinks together, you would have noticed that the rain had stopped completely and the sun come out from behind the clouds for the first time in weeks. 

 .✵.

[computercoke]

James x Reader Questionnaire

Hey everyone! Coke here. I'm currently writing a James Hetfield x Reader story and I need your help to continue to develop my story. As a person of color, your feedback is important to me because we all come from different cultural backgrounds. Besides this, the main point is to make the story inclusive to those that do not fit in the (y/n) box. I don't want my readers to be scratching their heads when something they dislike is supposed to be their favorite thing, y'know? So enough of my rambling, I want to input your guy's wants and desires into this story!

I made a questionnaire for anyone to fill out. Questions range from what type of clothing you like to wear, to foods you dislike as well as some more intimate questions. All the questions are optional and the responses are anonymous.

Again, I'm still in the process of writing this story so some things are subject to change.

[cryptic--writing]

dave mustaine with a spitting kink? 👀

hihi!!!!

kinktober part 4 I think??? not sure

you can NOT tell me Dave doesn't have at least a slight spitting kink... so I hope I did this justice bc I didn't really know what to do

also this is gonna be my last kinktober post besides the Halloween finale- since I got sick last week I wont be able to catch up much (hense this post being super duper short)

anyways

word count:829

warnings: smut, spitting kink, oral, teasing, slight degradation, rough sex

WET (2000)

The sound of soft moans and whines filled the room as Dave sloppily made out with me, our tongues dancing in a pleasureful frenzy that I never wanted to end. He was grinding his clothes by denim erection onto my bare heat, my wetness moistening his jeans and creating a dark spot as he swallowed each and every noise that fell from my lips.

Dave pulled away, his lust filled eyes meeting mine as we both caught our breath. He leaned down, beginning to kiss and suck at the sensitive skin of my neck, eliciting a soft whine from my lips. His fingers began to trail to my core, his skilled fingers spreading my folds before rubbing the flesh and probing at my hole with the tip of his finger. I moaned and bucked my hips, seeking more friction.

Dave chuckled at my state, pulling away from my neck where he had now left bruises. “Are you needy, baby?” He teased, and I nodded frantically. He crawled down y body, his head settling between my thighs as I felt him spit on my already soaking cunt before delving in and eating me out like  a starved man, making me moan wildly as I gripped his hair in my hand tightly. I squirmed and writhed against his face, feeling his nose nudge my clit.

Dave took notice of my reactions, increasing the speed and strength of his movements as he lapped up my essence. I could feel myself grow closer and closer to the edge, ready to release onto his face as I grinded down on his face before he pulled away with a smirk, his lips and chin glistening with my juices. The feeling of being on the edge had left, and now I was antsy and unfulfilled, looking up at Dave with a pout.

“Why'd you stop..?” I complained, wiggling my hips at him.

“Because it's funny to see you get like this, all begging and needy because I teased you,” He admitted with a stupid grin.

I rolled my eyes and he snickered, finally shedding his own clothes and tossing them behind him onto the messy bedroom floor. It wasn't long before he was completely bare, his erection standing proud as precum dripped from the red, throbbing tip. Dave crawled back ont top of me, beginning to position himself at my entrance. The head of his cock slid through my already drenched folds, my over sensitive skin feeling a jolt from the contact. I whined and with that he pushed in with one quick thrust, giving me little time to adjust to his large size. He began to pound into me quickly, making me moan loudly with every moment, my breasts moving in time with his thrusts. The wind was knocked out of me, Davwe lifting my legs a bit and resting them on his shoulders as he continued to plow in and out of my aching and fluttering pussy. My eyes were rolling into the back of my head, the pleasure consuming me as I let out each shaky moan, tears pooling in my eyes. 

Without warning, Dave squeezed the cheeks on my face together to get my mouth open, spitting into it. I was slightly surprised, though turned on by it nonetheless.

“Swallow it, slut..” He mumbled in dissatisfaction since I just held it in my mouth. He pulled out, and I quickly swallowed it.

“Good girl..” He praised, realigning himself and slamming back into me as I let out a loud cry of pleasure, tears streaming down my face in pleasure. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, and I could feel myself growing closer and closer.

My walls continued to tighten around his member which was now throbbing and pulsing inside me as Davest thrusts began to lose rhythm, his hips spasming as his groans grew in volume and intensity. 

“Fuck, gonna cum, baby.. Gonna cum inside you,” Dave panted, his hips giving a few final thrusts before he bucked, his mouth falling open as he moaned. I whined as I felt his seed spill into me, the warm thick liquid filling me completely. With Daves orgasm, I cam as well, our sounds of pleasure mingling together as he collapsed on me, completely spent. 

Our sweat covered bodies stuck together, our breaths shakey. Daves hand found mine intertwining our fingers as we both came down from our highs.

“Did so well, love.. Tok everything so good… you're so beautiful and perfect…” Dave showered me in words of affection, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. We stayed like that for awhile, just soaking in each others presence for I felt Dave slide out of me with a wet pop, my hole now sore and spread. Dav cuddled up beside me, opening his arms so I could come closer to him.

“Goodnight, sweetheart, I love you..” He mumbled before falling asleep, and I followed suit not long after.

[listening505]

hi everyone, I don’t know if anyone still follows me or remembers Nightcall but I had a really tough year and couldn’t post them so i am going to finish the last two parts and post them as soon as I can. i just don’t want to leave it like that, i loved writing james and ameila so i wanna give them proper ending.

[trublooder]

random hypothetical question. anyone in the metallica fandom roleplay? specifically in the fandom?

[mustainegf]

lingerie shopping w james 🤭 he picks out cute little outfits for you. could be any era but maybe like 99, 03 or current james ?

THIS IS AN AMAZING IDEA????? AND SOOOOO JAMES HOLY SHIT

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍 & 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ¹⁹⁹⁹

A soft jingle sounded from the bell above the door as we stepped into the small lingerie shop tucked into a corner of the strip mall. It wasn't a place I'd imagined us going, but James was in one of those playful moods all day, and there was no saying no to him when he flashed that mischievous grin. He had this knack for pulling me out of my shell and making me feel bold and sexy when I didn't even know I could feel that way.

The shop smelled of faint perfume and new fabric, the racks of lace and satin lining the walls. It was cozy, quiet, and we were the only ones there, which felt both exciting and a little awkward. But James didn't seem to care, he never did. He strode in like he owned the place, as he did with most places, eyes scanning the room for the perfect pieces, turning back to me with a gleam in his eyes.

"How about this one, baby?" He leaned and picked up a sheer red set, holding it up for me to see. "I bet you'd look hot in this." His voice dropped lower, a playful smirk on his lips. "Or out of it."

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep the flush from creeping up my neck. "You're crazy."

He laughed deep and rich, a set to our little adventure. "Come on," he urged, handing me the set. "Go try it on. Let's have some fun." There was just no arguing with James when he got this way. He wasn't overbearing, just… assured, in that confident way that he always had.

I took the lingerie and moved towards the dressing rooms, giving him a look over. Already he was eyeing up something else on the racks, his face assuming that look of concentration adopted by people who believed this was some serious mission.

I slipped on the red set in the dressing room. Soft fabric caressed my skin, hugging in all the right places. I looked into the mirror, feeling my stomach churning with shyness and somehow some excitement. It's not always that comfortable for me to be this daring, but since James had been waiting outside just to see me, it made me smile.

"You gonna let me see, or do I have to come in there?" His voice came through the curtain all teasing like usual.

I pulled back the curtain slightly and leaned my head out. "You're not supposed to be in here, you know."

James raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the wall. "Since when have I followed rules?"

I let him in with a sigh that turned into a laugh, shutting the curtain behind him. His eyes roamed over me and I could tell he liked what he saw. He reached out, tracing the lace along my hips, his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Fuck, you look good," he murmured, his voice taking on that husky tonethat he knew drove me crazy.

I shook my head but couldn't help smiling. "Oh, hush."

His eyes met mine, serious for a moment. "No, I mean it. You're beautiful." He slid his hand down my arm, fingers brushing my waist. "I love when you let go like this."

He kissed me then, so soft and slow at first, before it deepened, and for a moment, we forgot we were standing in the middle of a small lingerie shop.

When he pulled back, his eyes glittered with that same light. "You're getting this one," he said, almost as an order. "But let's see what else we can find."

I changed back into my clothes while he roamed the store, picking out pieces and holding them up for me to see. A black corset, some lacy panties, even a soft, baby blue set that made me giggle when he held it out like it was the most serious thing in the world.

"This one's cute," he said, giving me a sideways grin. "For when you're feeling sweet."

I raised an eyebrow. "And when am I ever feeling sweet?"

He laughed again, reaching for my hand and pulling me toward the dressing room. "Guess we'll find out."

We had spent the next hour trying things on, and he would never take his eyes off me, always managing to say something flirtatious or giving a low whistle.

At one point, he pulled out an emerald green set complete with garter and stocking that he held up with one eyebrow raised, his gaze was locked on the crotch of the g string... or lack thereof... It was obvious what they were meant for. "This one," he said, his voice lowering. "You gotta try this one."

I wavered for a second, biting at my lip. A little more daring than I was used to. Then I caught the look in his eyes, full of heat, but also something else. He wanted me to feel sexy.

I took it from him as I headed back into the dressing room. When I came out, James looked like he creamed his pants on the spot.

"Damn," he muttered stepping closer, his hands sliding around my waist. "We're gettin' this one."

By the time we finally came out of that shop, I had a whole bunch of lingerie clutched in my bag and a whole warm heart out of it. James held me at the door and swung his arm around my shoulder.

I already knew what was in store tonight...

[nostallicca]

Are you all interested in a continuation of “The Memory Remains”? Or should I scrap it and start over with something new? I have writers block…

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 01 of 06 | masterpost

word count: 5,1k | ao3 link | fic's playlist

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, grief, mxf sex, unprotected sex

✦ a/n: The epilogue's finally here! As I said before, I had to split it into a few parts because it turned out really long and I wanted to tie all loose ends lol I haven't finished writing it yet, but I'll try to keep posting twice a week. Many things will have changed in this, since it's set mostly in 1992. We will have some flashbacks, but I dated all the parts so it wouldn't get confusing. Hope you enjoy the read, feedback is welcome! ❤

December 31, 1991

San Francisco in December hit me with that familiar chill as soon as I stepped off the plane; I quickly slipped on my gloves and shrugged into my coat, letting out a sigh as the cold nipped at my nose and fogged up my breath. It felt weird being back after so long, back to the city where I'd lived, loved, and grown up all those years ago.

I’d bid farewell to San Francisco two years back when my art career started picking up steam, making the move to LA seem like the logical next step. Coming back to the city stirred up a pain that ran deep in my bones — a constant reminder of the happiness I once knew but could never quite recapture, a bittersweet flashback to all I'd experienced — and all that had slipped away.

Lars had invited friends and family for a massive bash at his vacation home, ringing in the end of the year and welcoming 1992 with a bang. I had a hunch the extravagant party had something to do with his recent divorce, after a rushed marriage which had barely lasted two years. He'd even sent his driver, Simon, to scoop me up from the airport.

It was a relief not to have to wrangle a taxi amidst the chaos of folks flying in for the last flights before New Year's Eve. Slipping into the Jaguar, I peeled off my sunglasses with a sigh; those shades had become my shield against being recognized in the last few months. Ever since I'd started doing TV gigs, getting spotted by strangers and paparazzi was becoming a regular thing. It came with the territory, sure, but sometimes, a girl just wanted a little peace and quiet.

"Good afternoon, Miss Burton," Simon greeted me with a smile as I hopped into the car, and I shot one right back at him. "Mr. Ulrich was really looking forward to your arrival."

"Thanks, Simon. Are the others already there?" I inquired, my gaze drifting out the window as we cruised away from the airport.

"Yes, Mr. Hammett and Mr. Newsted are. Mr. Hetfield will show up later; I'll swing back to get him after dropping you off. And Miss Summers won't be joining us."

I let out a sigh. Ever since Cliff had passed, Leanne had drifted away from the group, moving to another city and cutting most ties. She said it hurt too much to stick around — too many reminders of him . I got where she was coming from and harbored no hard feelings, but her absence had definitely put some distance between us over the years.

"Well, I'll have to shoot her a call later and wish her a Happy New Year," I mused absentmindedly. "Do you know if my aunt and uncle are gonna make it?"

"Yes, I'll pick them up later," Simon replied, earning a small smile from me. Despite Cliff's passing hitting us all hard, Aunt Jan and Uncle Ray had been a steady presence for me and the guys. They'd practically become like second parents to all of us over the years, always there in the Metallica routine, whether it was on the professional front or at family and friends' get-togethers.

It took us a bit to roll up to Lars' vacation home, a big old mansion tucked away in one of San Francisco’s most expensive neighborhoods, a far cry from the tiny house we used to live in back in the day. Simon pulled up at the main entrance; the door was wide open, and I caught a glimpse of the staff buzzing around, putting the final touches on the shindig. Judging by the crates of booze being unloaded, this was gonna be more than just a cozy New Year's bash with a few friends.

"Thanks for the ride, Simon," I said, grabbing my bag and popping open the car door. "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, Miss."

It didn't take me long to spot Lars; the moment I stepped into the foyer, there he was, barking orders to his assistant at lightning speed, champagne glass already in hand. I couldn't help but grin; classic Lars, hitting the booze before anyone else. He turned my way at the sound of my footsteps echoing on the polished floor, breaking into a smile as he strode over.

"Nore!" he exclaimed, pulling me into a bear hug. "I'm so stoked you made it."

"Hey, Lars," I grinned, returning the hug. It had been a hot minute since I'd seen him or any of the guys; 1991 had been a whirlwind for all of us, and work had pretty much consumed our lives at warp speed.

"How was the trip? Did Simon take good care of you?"

"Yeah, it was smooth sailing. Simon's a pro, always has been. But seriously, Lars, you shouldn't have him grinding away on the last day of the year."

"Oh, he's getting compensated handsomely for it, don't you worry. Hey, you remember your way around the house, right? Kirk and Jason are probably chilling in the sauna. Oh, Allie!" Lars called out to his assistant, a dark-haired girl who looked eager to please. "Got the guest list handy? Can you show our girl here where she'll be crashing tonight?" Allie nodded briskly, and Lars flashed me a smile, turning back to me. "Party kicks off at 9 PM, so I'm just tying up loose ends. Make yourself comfy, grab some grub if you're hungry, alright? Consider the place your own."

I trailed after Allie to my room, a fancy suite with a king-size bed that looked like it had never been slept in. Lars always had a flair for the extravagant, but Metallica's success in recent years seemed to have kicked that into overdrive; his new vacation house was straight-up lavish, with more rooms than I could count, a massive pool, a sauna, and even a private movie theater.

I decided to chill in my room until the party kicked off; as much as I was itching to catch up with everyone, I was straight-up wiped out. Lately, I'd been craving more time alone, away from the chaos of the ragers my friends used to live for. But hey, I knew we'd all cross paths eventually, and sure enough, when I finally made my grand entrance, one of the first faces I spotted was Kirk's, rolling in with James, who apparently had arrived while I was hiding out.

"Nore!" Kirk grinned, pulling me into a hug. I chuckled, hugging him back. "Damn, you're looking good!"

"Thanks, Kirk. It's all Lars' doing; he picked out the dress," I replied, nodding at the long red number I was sporting. I’d found it laid out on the bed in my room with a note telling me to rock it for the night. I eyed Kirk's suit, a slick navy number with gold accents. "You're looking sharp yourself."

"Yeah, that's all Lars' handiwork too. Dude's on a mission to throw the ultimate party. But hey, who am I to complain? There's champagne!" Kirk chuckled, clinking his glass against mine.

"Hey, Nore." I glanced up at the sound of his voice, meeting James' intense blue gaze. A faint smile tugged at my lips; being around him always stirred up a whirlwind of emotions that were hard to untangle. Love, sure, but also heartache. It stung, yet it felt oddly comforting. Like coming home.

"Hi, James," I greeted him softly. Kirk shot us a quick look.

“Well, I'm gonna go track down our host. Catch you guys later!" He excused himself. I watched Kirk saunter off, a slight jolt running through me as James' hand landed on the small of my back.

"Have you grabbed a bite to eat yet? Lars said you got here before me," he murmured, his voice low. I looked up at him, seeing his eyes scanning the crowd of guests, a champagne flute in his other hand.

"Not yet."

"Want me to snag something for you? Lars went all out with the spread this time."

"I'm good, James." 

"Didn't drag your boyfriend along to the party?" he quipped, and I couldn't help but snort.

"What boyfriend?"

"That... Brian guy? I dunno, it's hard to keep up with all the dudes you've cycled through since we split," he remarked, a hint of irony dancing in his eyes. I furrowed my brow; was he joking or dead serious? It was getting tougher to read James these days.

"If you wanna know if I'm seeing someone, just ask," I shot back sharply. He let out a sardonic laugh and rolled his eyes. I held his gaze. "And what about your 'Nothing Else Matters' chick? She bailed on the party?"

"I ended things with her," he replied, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. "And I've told you that song wasn't about her."

"Then who was it about?"

"Do I really need to spell it out?" he growled, stepping closer. I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze head-on. James and I had been locked in this dance for a while now, his anger clashing with my pain like sparks flying. It didn't shock me that Kirk wanted no part of our little reunion.

"I'm gonna go track down Lars," I tossed back dryly before strutting off. I could practically feel James rolling his eyes as he polished off the rest of his champagne in one gulp.

I didn't cross paths with James again until much later, well after midnight had come and gone. We’d all gathered on the balcony to catch the fireworks, dishing out Happy New Year wishes and hugs left and right. When the crowd filtered back inside, I lingered behind, a cigarette dangling between my fingers as I stared up at the star-studded sky, grappling with the bitter irony that another year had kicked off without Cliff here to see it.

"I did wanna know, actually," a voice cut through the silence, jolting me. I turned to find James leaning against one of the pillars, his gaze fixed on me with a serious edge.

"What?" I murmured, my heart picking up its pace as he closed the gap between us.

"You said if I wanted to know if you were seeing someone, I just had to ask. And I did wanna know," he replied, so close now I could smell the booze on his breath.

"I'm not," I answered, and he grunted, satisfied, before pulling me into his arms, his lips finding mine.

He tasted like beer and tobacco, his lips moving against mine in a familiar dance, the echoes of an old tune. No matter how much time passed or how much it hurt, James and I always found our way back to each other.

"You know that song was about you," he murmured, his kisses trailing down my neck, his grip tightening on my hips as he pulled me closer, our bodies pressed together. "Do you really have to mess with me like this?"

I didn't answer; instead, I grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him back to me, his arms holding me tight as he kissed me with urgency, nipping at my lower lip. He wasn't holding back as he pushed me against the balcony railing, his hands hiking up the skirt of my dress, his touch igniting a fire in my belly.

"My room or yours?" I gasped against his lips.

"Does yours come with a bathroom?" he quipped, and I chuckled softly, nodding. "Figures. Lars always hooks you up with the best ones."

"Mine, then," I murmured, a faint smile playing on my lips.

We made our way up to my room, James guiding me through the labyrinth of hallways and rooms in the house with his hand in mine. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, his hands were back on me, pulling me close as his lips trailed hungrily along my neck, tugging at the straps of my dress.

"James, you're gonna wreck the dress..." I protested weakly, my fingers tangled in his hair. He grunted, yanking it down, and I heard a rip that probably meant the garment was already ruined anyway.

"I'll get you another one," he grumbled. "As many as you want."

With urgency matching his, I stripped off his shirt, a few buttons popping off and bouncing across the bedroom floor. Before I could even blink, he lifted me, depositing me on the bed and positioning himself over me. I kicked off my heels, sending them flying into some forgotten corner, releasing a low moan as he pressed against me, his arousal evident through the fabric of his pants. There was no time for calm contemplation, no room for hesitation or second-guessing if this was the right move; our desire for each other was insatiable, ravenous and desperate, and I felt it would consume me completely if we didn't satisfy it right then and there.

I sighed as his lips reclaimed mine, his hand tangled in my hair, gripping it firmly as I worked on unbuttoning his pants, easing them down. He pulled back for a moment, shedding the rest of his clothes before sliding off my panties, emitting a low groan as he entered me. I shut my eyes, clutching onto his arms tightly, my nails digging into his skin. He wasn't holding back; and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Look at me," he growled, his hand guiding my chin as he thrust into me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I obeyed, meeting his gaze as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, my mouth slightly agape as I let out small, sharp moans. He shifted his hand to my neck, pressing his forehead against mine.

"James..." I moaned, my grip on his arms tightening as he picked up the pace, sending shivers down my spine. "James..."

"I wanna ruin you. You get that?" he growled, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body at his words. Of course, I got it. What were we if not each other's downfall? What more could I want than for him to consume me entirely, even if just for a moment? For all the pain and heartache to vanish, if only while he was inside me. "I want you to be mine, all mine, all mine... Fuck..." he buried his face in my neck as my climax washed over me, my body clenching around him, my legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him deeper. "Nore..." he groaned, his own release crashing over him, filling me completely as he continued to move until the intensity of his peak forced him to collapse onto me.

He rolled away, settling beside me, leaving a pulsating void inside me where pain and pleasure danced together in my womb and heart. I shut my eyes, focusing on steadying my breath, and let out a soft chuckle when I felt his lips on my neck, his arms pulling me close in a fleeting but genuine comfort.

"My girl..." he murmured against my ear, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. I'd lost track of how many times he'd called me that, but it never failed to stir something in me. "Why do you keep running from me? Don't you know I love you so?"

I opened my eyes, locking onto his gaze, a blend of longing and yearning reflected back at me. Nestling into his embrace, I placed a soft kiss on his lips, feeling his gaze soften into a tender warmth that sent tingles down my spine.

"I'm here now," I murmured, tracing my fingers gently over his face. He sighed, closing his eyes, intertwining our hands and pressing kisses to my palm, one, two, three times before pulling me close in a tight hug.

Peace hadn't been a frequent visitor in my life for a while, but in that moment, I found it. I'd always find my way back to James, and he'd always find his way back to me. That certainty coursed through my veins, leaving me feeling whole in a way I hadn't in ages.

The next day, we'd be back in the spotlight, the distance between us creeping back in like a toxic fog. But for now, on that night, I was content. I was at peace.

I was home.

September 28, 1986

The shrill ring of the phone pierced through the silence of the empty house, yanking me out of a deep slumber with a groan. I blinked, the heavy rain drumming against the bedroom windows registering in my foggy mind. Stretching out across the bed, I groped for James, only to remember he wasn't there; my boyfriend was off on tour with my cousin and my friends. That left just Leanne and me holding down the fort.

Dragging myself out of bed, my eyes still weighed down by sleep, I shrugged into my robe and slipped on my slippers before trudging out of the room, descending the stairs at a snail's pace. Flicking on the lights in the living room, I scowled at the clock — it wasn't even seven in the morning. This better be an important call, I grumbled inwardly. I was itching to crawl back under the covers.

"Hey," I mumbled, stifling a yawn and rubbing my eyes in an attempt to shake off the sleepiness.

"Hey, Nore," James' voice crackled through the receiver, but in my grogginess, I barely registered the tense undertone, so unlike his usual laid-back demeanor.

"Babe..." I murmured, another yawn threatening to escape. "I know you're in a different time zone, but it's way early here. I was out cold..."

"I'm sorry. I had to call," he replied, and this time, the strain in his voice didn't go unnoticed. I furrowed my brow, sinking down onto the couch beside the phone, suddenly wide awake.

"Is everything alright? Did something happen?"

"Yeah, something happened. Is Leanne there with you?"

"I think she's asleep. Why?"

"We had a crash," he said, and my heart clenched, a surge of unease and dread knotting my stomach. "We were on the road... Late at night. The driver lost control..."

My breath hitched, and in that instant, a sense of foreboding washed over me. Something felt off, deeply unsettling. It just didn't add up. I knew I should be getting this call from someone else. I knew my cousin; I knew Cliff would want to speak to me and Leanne directly, to break the news himself.

Like when he shared he was leaving Long Beach for San Francisco. Like when he announced he was joining Metallica. Like when he called to tell me Dave got booted from the band, or when he rang to say Metallica was wrapping up tour and he wanted me there for their first hometown gig after dropping the first album.

Something wasn't right.

"James," I whispered, my voice trembling, tears pricking at my eyes as if I already knew what he was going to say. "What happened to Cliff?"

January 1st, 1992

I jolted awake, my cheeks damp with tears that refused to cease flowing. I sighed heavily, my breath shaky, the early morning sunlight just beginning to seep through the curtains. James' arms were wrapped snugly around me, his breath warm against my shoulder as he softly snored.

That dream, again.

It always seemed to resurface whenever I was near James. Maybe my subconscious still linked him to that chilly morning, to that phone call that’d shattered any hope of happiness for the rest of that year and beyond. A call that tore a hole in the fabric of my world, leaving an ache in my heart that felt like it would never mend.

The call that had shattered my heart for good, leaving no chance of putting the pieces back together.

I carefully shifted James' arm away from me, slipping out of bed and heading to the bathroom. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I took in my tired blue eyes framed by dark circles, my brown hair tumbling in waves over my shoulders, and the red marks on my neck and collarbone left by James the night before. With a sigh, I opened the bathroom cabinet, my hands trembling slightly as I reached for the pills I knew would help ease my anxiety.

I lacked the courage to return to bed, so I nestled into one of the armchairs in the corner of the room, observing James' peaceful slumber as the daylight gradually filled the space. He stirred awake soon after, as if sensing my absence beside him, his eyelids fluttering before he groggily opened his eyes. With a puzzled frown, he reached out for the bed, only to find it empty, prompting him to scan the room. A sigh escaped him when he spotted me, a sense of relief washing over his features that tugged at my heartstrings.

"Bad dream?" he inquired, and I simply nodded in response. "You wanna hop back into bed?"

"I'd rather not risk slipping into another nightmare," I admitted, and he sighed, sitting upright.

"Well, I know a surefire way to keep you awake, if you're interested," he quipped, and I managed a shaky laugh. I much preferred this relaxed and caring version of James to the sarcastic and irritable one from the night before. "So, spill. What was haunting you this time?"

"The usual. That day," I murmured. It wasn't anything new; I'd replayed that nightmare countless times, and James was well aware. My demons weren't a mystery to us, but that didn't make them any less terrifying.

With a sigh, he got up and strolled over to me, scooping me up effortlessly, which elicited a surprised gasp from me. He carried me back to bed, settling me down beside him, his hand securing my waist while the other supported the underside of my thighs, lifting one leg and tucking it around his waist. I hugged him tightly, nuzzling into his chest. It was a brief moment of warmth and solace, a fleeting calmness that I knew would vanish as soon as the day kicked into gear and he walked out that door.

"Are you taking off today?" I whispered softly. I understood that once James and I dove back into our regular routines — fame, commitments, the whole mess — things would get complicated again. I'd lose him once more; I'd been through that too many times in the last few years to entertain any other outcome. But as long as we were together, there, shielded from everything else, he was mine. And I craved his presence. I craved his warmth.

"Do you want me to jet today?" he countered, and I shook my head no. He grumbled under his breath, the rumble vibrating against my cheek as I snuggled closer. "Then I'll hang tight. I suppose we can annoy Lars a bit longer."

"I'm too scared to doze off," I admitted weakly, grappling with the heaviness of my eyelids, which threatened to seal shut from exhaustion. James planted a kiss on the top of my head, gently stroking my hair.

"I ain't budging. If you slip into that nightmare again, I'll be right here when you wake up. Deal?" he whispered, and I nodded.

I knew that as soon as I drifted off, that same haunting dream would likely rear its ugly head. It was just one more cruel reminder of the growing chasm between James and me. It felt like we were broken, perpetually out of sync, and his nearness both healed and wounded me in equal measure. But in that moment, I was willing to bear the pain if it meant he'd stick by my side.

"I love you, Jamie," I murmured, and he sighed, pulling me close as my body surrendered to sleep.

"I love you too, Nore," his voice was the last thing I heard before drifting off.

February 18, 1992

The bouquet of red roses James had given me was beginning to droop, the once vibrant petals shriveling and browning with each passing day. Yet, the fragrance lingering in the air remained sweet and evocative, as if the flowers were still in full bloom.

I sighed as I ran a brush through my hair, eyeing the dress laid out on the bed for the evening bash. It was the launch party for the new TV network schedule I'd been hired for, and showing up was not just a courtesy but a must.

I hadn't crossed paths with James much since our time at Lars' getaway spot. His absence had become a familiar ache over the last few years, a kind of shield we'd unintentionally built between us over time. Yet, there was always that tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd call out of the blue and bring back that sense of ease with his voice.

To my surprise, the phone did ring that day. I set the brush down on the vanity, hurriedly making my way to the bedside table to answer it, a rush of excitement coursing through me.

“Nore?” the voice on the other end wasn't James', but it still warmed my heart, prompting a smile to spread across my face as I sank back onto the bed, cradling the phone to my ear.

“Lea!” I exclaimed, feeling a surge of joy. “It's been too long! How've you been?”

“I'm great! And you?”

“Oh, you know. Just hanging in there. How's Joe?” I swiftly changed the subject. As much as I adored Leanne, I wasn't ready to spill my guts about how I was really feeling.

“Oh, he's doing fantastic. Actually, that's why I rang you up. We're getting married!” she announced, her excitement palpable, and I couldn't help but smile.

“Lea, that's incredible! When's the big day?”

“It's in August. We figured summer would be perfect. I'm calling to extend the invite; would you do me the honor of being one of my bridesmaids?”

I leaped up, my grin stretching wider across my face. Leanne and I had been thick as thieves since day one; seeing her so thrilled about tying the knot, and knowing she wanted me to be part of her big day, warmed my heart.

“Oh, absolutely!” I exclaimed, a bubbling laugh of joy and surprise escaping my lips. Lea chuckled in response, matching my excitement. “Thank you! I know it's going to be beautiful. Can you fill me in on all the details later?”

The rest of my day sparkled with newfound energy after the news; I even caught myself humming an old song as I finished getting dolled up for the evening bash, weaving my hair into an intricate hairdo my mom had insisted on teaching me.

When I finished getting ready, I checked myself out in the mirror, pretty pleased with the result; the dark blue spaghetti-strap dress hugged my curves just right, with the skirt flaring out at the waist and skimming down to my ankles. A dainty golden choker with crystals adorned my neck, and my long brown locks were styled to perfection, framing my face in all the right places, with my eyes sparkling, cheeks a touch flushed, and lips painted red.

But, of course, I couldn't roll up to an event like that on my own; right on the dot at 7 p.m., I heard the honk signaling my ride had arrived. I sauntered down the stairs, arching an eyebrow in surprise as I stepped outside and spotted the limo parked up front. My old friend Charlotte rolled down the window from the backseat, flashing me a big grin.

“Hey, Nore!” she chirped as I slid into the car, handing over a glass of champagne, which earned a soft chuckle from me. “Ready to rock?”

“I guess I’m a bit jittery. First time going to a party like this one,” I admitted. Now that I was on my way, the thought of facing a swarm of photographers and journalists at the event’s entrance was making me more nervous than I cared to admit, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.

“Well, it's gonna be a blast, trust me! Everyone who's anyone will be there. I'll be your wingwoman, so don't worry about a thing. I'll make sure you rub elbows with all the big shots you haven't bumped into yet during the shoots.”

I nodded, taking a bit of champagne to settle my nerves, the bubbles dancing on my tongue and momentarily diverting my attention. If my acting career was taking flight now, it was all thanks to Charlie; she'd been the driving force behind my return to the scene after I’d graduated High School, persuading me to switch gears from the Visual Arts program up in San Francisco to Drama School down in Los Angeles, and had even helped me snag my first TV gig.

I'd recently jumped into acting over at the same TV network where Charlotte had been working as an actress for a while. Even though I hadn't wrapped up recording my first project yet, the buzz around a relatively unknown actress snagging the lead in the latest drama series had caught the media’s attention. In just about a year, my life had changed completely, going from being just another face in the crowd to even having paparazzi tail me. But truth be told, I was still getting the lay of the land at the network. Charlie had hit the nail on the head; this party was prime time to make some connections.

We rolled up to the party spot; I soon realized that navigating through the sea of photographers and reporters on that red carpet was no joke. But once I got past the Q&A, which mostly revolved around my work and career, it was time to get down to business. Charlotte ushered me into conversations with all sorts of folks: actors, musicians, executives, and even some of the network's shareholders. It hit me quick that networking at these parties was just as much a part of the job in the entertainment industry as being good at your craft.

The hours zoomed by amid chats, laughter, drinks, and nibbles. Soon, I was feeling drained and decided to grab a bite from the buffet before taking a breather. As I was fixing my plate, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, expecting it to be Charlie, ready to introduce me to someone new.

Never in a million years could I have guessed what awaited me in the next few seconds.

"Nore... Is that really you?" the man exclaimed, looking utterly astonished, and suddenly I was eighteen again, my heart racing in completely uncontrollable pirouettes as my breath hitched, my surprised gaze meeting his, the world filling with color and song as I stared into the eyes of Dave Mustaine.

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