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n3wstxd · 11 days ago

Note

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

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄/𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 - 𝐒𝐨 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐭 𝐁𝐞?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re hot, cupcake.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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n3wstxd · 20 days ago

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Hi there!

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

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 - 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

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

more under the cut :)

Lars is distraught.

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

It should have been him.

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

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

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

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

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

“It should have been me.”

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

“I’m glad you’re still here.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you just stay with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cliff would have found all of this downright hysterical.

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

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

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

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

I know.

And maybe, just maybe, everything might be alright.

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

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n3wstxd · 21 days ago

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

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞

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

nsfw under the cut :)

This is stupid.

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

Dave wonders how it all came down to this.

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

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

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

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

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

Dave’s heart clenches at the sight.

“God, James, I’m-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dave’s body goes cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t leave me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dave grips the sheets underneath him to ground himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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n3wstxd · 22 days ago

Note

cis virgin 81 james x trans experienced dave and dave talks him through giving him head, fucking him, etc as the dom? 🙏🙏🙏🙏

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐲

warnings: loss of virginity, first time(s), vaginal fingering, pussy eating, p in v, topping from the bottom (kinda)

nsfw under the cut :)

Dave’s picked up the ability to sense whether people were experienced sexually, and James was a virgin if he’d ever seen one. The way he’d blush and avert his gaze when himself and Lars would talk about their sexual escapades just screamed that he’d never been with anyone ever.

So when James had eventually gotten comfortable enough to open up to the guitarist about his lack of sexual encounters, Dave was more than happy to help him out.

How the hell has James gone this long without a single hookup? He was not only cute, but he exuded a certain charm—one that had the power to turn Dave weak in the knees. And here James was, eighteen and a bloody virgin. It was such a waste of a lovely specimen like James, Dave thought.

Dave was already starting to form a plan of some sort to help James get some action for once in his life, and he was more than eager to get started. He had some great ideas in mind, and he was confident that they would work like a charm on a sweet, innocent boy like James.

The very next day, Dave wasted no time in putting his plan into action. He invited James over to his place, under the guise of helping him with a guitar lick he’d been struggling to master.

Once James had arrived, Dave pretended like he was going to help out with the guitar... But he didn’t. Instead, he steered the conversation towards a very different topic. He started asking James questions about his love life, wanting to get a better idea of what they were working with here.

He found out pretty quickly that James was pretty naive and lacked the experience that most guys at his age would have already had.

He also sensed the younger boy’s nervousness and anxiousness whenever the subject of sex came up, which gave Dave plenty of opportunities to tease him.

Dave continued to poke fun at and flirt with James, watching the cute blush spread across his cheeks and the way his eyes would widen with every suggestive comment. Dave loved seeing the boy squirm; it was a power trip like no other.

Then, after a while, Dave decided to up the ante by casually mentioning the fact that he’d had quite a few partners. He talked about some of his past experiences and bragged a little, just to get a reaction out of James.

Dave decided to push the envelope even more by bringing up some of the more explicit details of his past encounters. He could see the shock and surprise on James’s face, but there was also something else hiding behind those wide eyes of his.

Arousal. Dave could see it plain as day: the way James’s breaths would get heavier, the way his tongue would dart out to wet his lips, the way he’d try—and fail—to hide the tent in his jeans.

“So, what about you?”

James looked up, confusion and embarrassment written all over his face. “What…what do you mean?” He asked, his voice cracking a little.

Dave grinned, enjoying seeing the boy all flustered like this. “I mean, have you ever hooked up with anyone before?” He asked, his tone casual but with an undertone of tease.

James gulped, his cheeks turning crimson as he shook his head. “N-no, I haven’t,” the blonde mumbled. How cute.

Dave feigned surprise, pretending like this news was a shock to him. “Really? Never?” He asked, leaning in closer to the boy.

James’s face was now so red that he was almost glowing. “No, never,” He repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. Dave chuckled, loving the way the boy was reacting to him. “Oh, sweet, innocent James.” He teased, reaching out to pat his cheek. “You’ve been missing out, you know.”

Dave could feel the heat radiating off the boy’s skin as he touched his face. He let his hand linger a little longer than necessary, his fingers tracing the curve of James’s jawline.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Dave continued, his voice low and sultry. “There’s nothing wrong with being inexperienced. In fact, I think its quite endearing...”

The guitarist inched closer to James’s ear, his breath warm against the sensitive skin. “But I can’t help but wonder what type of sounds you’d make if you actually knew what it was like to be touched by someone who knows what they’re doing.”

The boy’s eyes widened even further at Dave’s words, and he let out a small, needy whimper. Dave could practically feel the boy’s body heat increasing, the arousal radiating off of him in waves.

Dave smiled smugly, knowing that he had James completely under his spell. “You know, I could show you what I mean.”

James’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened and closed several times like a fish out of water. “Y…you would?” He finally managed to stutter out. Dave chuckled again and closed the distance between them, moving so that he was practically hovering over James now. “Of course I would, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with honey.

He raised his hand and gently cupped James’s chin, making the boy look up at him. “I could teach you a few things.” He murmured, his eyes locked on the boy’s lips. James swallowed hard, his eyes flickering downwards as he stared at Dave’s mouth.

He seemed torn between wanting to pull away and wanting to lean in closer. Dave could smell the heady mix of desire and uncertainty emanating off the boy, and it was driving him wild.

Dave leaned in even closer, his lips hovering mere inches away from James’s. He could see the younger boy’s breaths coming faster and more shallow, and he knew that he had him right where he wanted him.

But just as Dave was about to close the final gap between them and press his lips against James’, he pulled back, a wicked smile on his face. “But it’s up to you, of course,” he said, feigning innocence. “I won’t force you into anything you’re not ready for.”

James’s eyes snapped up to meet Dave’s, confusion and disappointment etched all over his face. “N-no, I… I want to,” he stuttered out, his voice shaky.

Dave raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. “You sure about that, sweetheart?” The ginger purred, enjoying the way James was practically pleading with those beautiful round blue eyes of his.

James nodded keenly, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I’m sure,” he says oh so eagerly, a hint of desperation in his voice, eyes shining with yearning. “Please, Dave.”

The older man grins, moving to push James back against the couch and settling on his lap. Hazel eyes scan James’ face watchfully. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” he whispered, his hand going to the back of the boy’s neck and pulling him closer.

The moment their lips met, Dave could feel the spark of electricity shoot through his body. James’s lips were soft and pliant, molding perfectly against his own. Dave couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, his tongue licking at the boy’s bottom lip, seeking entrance into his mouth.

James responded fervently, his hands coming up to clutch at Dave’s shirt as he opened his mouth, allowing Dave’s tongue to slip inside. Dave deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the sweet heat of James’s mouth, and he could feel the boy shivering in his lap.

James seemed surprised at first, but he quickly got over his surprise and returned the kiss with a fervor that surprised even Dave. The boy’s hands flew up to Dave’s chest, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer, letting out a quiet whimper as Dave deepened the kiss.

Dave smiled against James’s lips, his arms wrapping around the boy’s slender waist and pulling him tighter against him. He tilted his head slightly, changing the angle of the kiss and delving his tongue deeper into the warm, wet heat of the younger boy’s mouth.

He started slowly grinding his hips against James’ lap, eliciting a gasp from the boy. Dave could feel the boy’s own hardness forming against his thigh, and it sent a thrill through his body.

Dave knew he had the boy right where he wanted him—desperate and aching for more. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down James’s jawline and to his neck, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh.

James let out a soft moan, his hands gripping Dave’s shirt even tighter as the man attacked his neck with kisses and gentle bites. His hips rose involuntarily to grind up against Dave again, seeking more friction.

“I wanna fuck you..” James breathes, eyes lidded with desire, fingers hooking under the waistband of his jeans.

Dave’s breath catches in his throat as the words leave James’ mouth. There was something about the filthy words coming out of the boy’s pretty, innocent lips that just went straight to his own rapidly growing arousal.

“I know, sweetheart,” he purrs, his hands going to rest on the boy’s hips. “But I think we should move to a more comfortable place first, mmm?”

James nods, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath he takes. “Yeah,” he manages to get out, voice thick with need. Dave helps him up, and the blonde takes his hand to lead him down the hall.

Dave lets James lead him into his bedroom, closing the door behind them. He watches as the boy climbs onto the bed, sitting on his knees and looking up at Dave with wide, innocent eyes.

Dave joins him on the bed, moving to kneel in front of him. He reaches out to cup James’s cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the boy’s lower lip. “You’re so beautiful…now take your clothes off.”

James’s breath hitches at the command, a small shiver running down his spine. He complies, pulling his shirt over his head in one swift motion before fumbling with the button on his jeans.

Dave’s eyes roam over the newly exposed skin before him, taking in the boy’s lean, toned body. He whistles appreciatively, a smirk playing on his lips as he helps James undo his jeans and pushes the material out of the way.

James takes over and Dave moves to take his own clothes off. What the younger man finds strange is the lack of a bulge in the ginger’s boxers. But it all clicks in his head when he sees the two asymmetrical scars under his pecs, barely visible.

Dave catches the look on James’ face and grins, knowing that the boy has figured out his little secret. “Surprise,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Hope it’s not a dealbreaker, sweetheart.”

“O…oh,” James stutters out, his cheeks flushing bright red. He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed for his assumption, but at the same time, he was intrigued. He’d never met a transgender person before, and Dave was still very attractive to him regardless.

Dave chuckles softly, seeing the boy’s genuine reaction. “Yeah, not what you were expecting, huh?” he said, his eyes watching the boy carefully. James merely gulps. “I couldn’t tell.” He admits shyly, his cheeks going peony pink.

He reaches out to take James’s hands, placing them on his chest.

“You can touch me, you know,” he said, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t bite…unless you want me to.”James lets out a shaky breath, his hands moving on their own to explore the expanse of Dave’s chest. He let his fingertips trace over the scars first, gently touching them as if they were something fragile and precious.

Dave leaned into the touch, pleased at the feeling of the boy’s soft hands on his skin. He could see the look of curiosity and fascination in James’s eyes, and it made his heart skip a beat.

He let out a soft sigh as James’s hands continued to explore, moving lower and lower until they were resting on his hips. Dave leaned in closer to him, his eyes locked onto the boy’s. “Can I see it?” James misters up the courage to ask, looking up at Dave reverently.

Dave grins, amused by the boy’s innocent question. “See what, exactly?” he teases, knowing damn well what James was talking about.

He watches as the boy’s face flushes an even deeper shade of red, his gaze dropping down to the spot between Dave’s legs. Dave can feel the heat pooling in his core, and he resists the urge to grab the boy and pull him closer.

“Can I see your…pussy?” James asks finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Dave feels a shiver run down his spine at the boy’s bold question, his eyes darkening with desire. He can’t help but find the boy’s innocence and curiosity absolutely tantalizing.

“You sure you’re ready for that, sweetheart?” he teases, his voice husky. He reaches out to cup the boy’s chin again, tilting his face up to look at him directly. James nods, his eyes flicking up to meet Dave’s. “Yes,” he says, his voice shaky but sure. “I want to see it…I want to see all of you.”

Dave can’t help but feel a pang of affection for the boy in that moment, his heart swelling at the younger man’s earnestness. He smiles gently, taking the boy’s hands and guiding them to the edge of his boxers.

James takes the cue and starts to slowly pull down the boxers, his hands shaking a little as the fabric slides down over Dave’s hips. He can feel his breath catch in his throat as he finally gets a clear look at what’s between Dave’s legs.

“Wow.” Was all that was in James’ thoughts, mesmerised, his eyes wide with awe. He couldn’t believe how different it looked from what he’d seen on magazines and in movies. But it wasn’t any less attractive to him, if anything, it was even more arousing.

Dave wasn’t clean shaven like girls in porn mags, no, he had a curly tuft of ginger hair nestled right above, a happy trail going up to just under his belly button.

“You’re beautiful.”

Dave chuckles gently at the boy’s reaction, his heart feeling lighter at the look of wonder on the boy’s face. “You flatter me, sweetheart,” he teases, reaching out to brush back a strand of hair from James’s forehead. “But there’s more to me than just this, you know. I’ve got plenty to show you. Plenty to teach.”

James looks up at his friend, his eyes full of trust. “Teach me. Please.”Dave can feel the heat of arousal surging through his body at the boy’s words, his mind filled with all the things he’d like to do to him. He moves to lie back against James’ pillows, patting the spot on the mattress in between his legs.

“Well, firstly, you’re going to learn how to eat someone out.”

James’s eyes widen as Dave’s words register in his head, but he doesn’t hesitate to crawl in between the man’s legs. He looks up at him, waiting for the next instructions.

Dave smiles, clearly enjoying having the boy’s at his mercy. “Right,” he purrs, “The first thing you gotta do is get comfortable down there.”

James nods, adjusting his position so he can lean in closer without his neck hurting. He can smell Dave’s musk from this angle, and it’s both heady and intoxicating to him.

“Good, there you go,” Dave says, a hand coming up to rest on the back of the younger man’s head. He tangles his fingers into the boy’s hair, not quite pushing but giving just enough pressure to keep him in place.

“Now, the main thing you need to do is listen to me,” he says, his voice dropping an octave or two. “Just do exactly what I tell you, alright?” The blonde nods obediently.

“Now, you’re going to use your tongue,” Dave says, his voice dropping even lower. “Start out gently at first. Flatten your tongue and lick a broad stripe from the bottom all the way to the top.”

James swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. He follows Dave’s instructions, flattening his tongue and giving a slow, tentative lick. He’s surprised by the taste and texture, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it. In fact, he actually rather likes it.

Dave shudders a gasp. It’s been too long since he’s been eaten out.“There you go,” he breathes out, his hand clenching in James’s hair. “Keep doing that. Try to find a rhythm. And if you remember, pay some attention to the clit as well.”

James nods again, focusing on creating a pattern with his tongue. He feels a sense of satisfaction as he watches Dave’s head fall back against the pillow, his eyes closing in pleasure.

“That’s it. Just keep going,” Dave encourages, his voice heavy with pleasure. James can feel the praise giving him a small boost of confidence, and he doubles down on his efforts. He starts to experiment with different pressures and speeds, trying to see what works best to get a reaction out of Dave.

“Good god,” Dave moans, his hips jerking up involuntarily against James. It feels amazing to have the boy’s mouth on him like this, almost like he was made for this.

“You’re a natural at this, sweetheart. You sure you’ve never done this before?”

James can’t help but preen a little at the praise, his confidence growing with each moan that escapes from Dave’s lips. He pulls back to shake his head, his mouth too occupied with following Dave’s instructions to speak. In truth, he’s enjoying this more than he thought he would. The sounds that’s Dave making is something he could listen all day, and the way the man pulls on his hair with his fingers makes him feel weak.

He pulls away for a moment to get a proper breath, panting slightly. “Mmm…can I try something else?” he asks, looking up at Dave with big doe eyes, so eager to please.

James leans back on his knees, his hands resting on Dave’s hips. He’s got a determined look in his eyes now, like he’s set on something.

“Can I use my fingers?”

Dave raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re getting awfully bold there, sweetheart,” he teases. “But I like it.”He shifts on the bed, spreading his legs a little wider to give the boy better access. “Go for it.”

James lets out a low moan as he sees the man’s legs open up further, his mouth practically watering at the sight. He reaches out, his hands trembling slightly, and gently prods at the man’s entrance.

“Is this…is this okay?” he asks, looking up at Dave for confirmation. “You need to use lube.”James reaches over to his nightstand and rummages through it, his fingers wrapping around a medium sized, nondescript bottle. He pops the cap and squeezes some onto his fingers, the scent of artificial strawberries filling the air.

“..Strawberry?” Dave huffs a laugh, sitting up.

“Yeah..” James laughs sheepishly, his shoulders rising in a shrug. “I didn’t have anything else.” He reaches down again, his slicked fingers tracing over Dave’s entrance. “Ready?” he asks again, seeking confirmation before he does anything. He watches as the man nods and relaxes his body.

“Take it slow,” Dave advises, guiding his hand.

James nods and slowly pushes one of his fingers in, his breath catching in his throat. It’s so warm and tight, and it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He looks up at Dave, who has his eyes closed and his head thrown back.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah…keep going,” Dave moans out, his hands clenching at the sheets. “You’re doing good, sweetheart. You can add another one now.”

James does as he’s told and carefully pushes another finger in, gently stretching Dave out. The man below him begins to make these soft, guttural sounds that are music to his ears. He’s never heard Dave sound like this, and it makes him feel powerful.

“You’re so hot like this,” James murmurs, his eyes roaming over the man’s body. Dave merely chuckles breathlessly. “There’s all kinds of things you can do with your fingers to please someone with a pussy. You can curl them…that’s when you, well, curl them.”

James looks down, realizing he’s never done that before. “Like this?” he says, as he starts to gently curve and uncurl his fingers.

Dave whines in response, a strangled sound that makes James’ heart beat faster. The man is usually the one in control, it’s strange to see him this way.

“Keep doing that..” Dave rasps softly. “And if you move your fingers faster…fuck…that’ll feel so good.” He has his eyes closed, his thighs quivering.

James nods, picking up the speed with his fingers while continuing to move then in a curling motion. He can’t believe he’s able to make Dave sound like that, it’s the ultimate ego booster. He begins to use his free hand to rub tight circles over the man’s clit as well, not sure if he’s doing it right, but he’s determined to make it good for him.

“You’re doing perfect, sweetheart….just a little longer…” Dave’s words are slightly broken as he trembles against the bed, the back of his hand resting over his mouth.

James redoubles his efforts, trying to listen to Dave’s instructions and keep up with the speed of his fingers. It’s starting to become a little tiring for his hand, but he soldiers on, determined to see this though.

“I’m doing good?” he asks, his voice dripping with innocence, even though he knows he’s probably driving Dave mad right now.

Dave nods fervently, choking out, “Yeah, yeah—fuck, and..and you can scissor them. That’s when you spread—”

The ginger cuts himself off with a cry, back toes curling as he holds onto James’ forearm. The vocalist’s fingers spread out, scissoring him unexpectedly.

James is a little startled at the reaction, but also immensely satisfied that he got such in response. Seeing Dave like this, so out of control and completely undone, has to be the highlight of his day. His fingers brush against a certain spot that makes Dave keen, and he takes note of it.

“Like that?” he asks, his voice a little cocky. “Is that the spot?”

Dave lets out a shuddering breath and nods, unable to speak for a moment. He’s never had someone so eager to learn like this before, and it’s a massive turn on but also a bit overwhelming.

“Mmm…yeah…don’t stop..” he manages to gasp out, his eyes squeezed shut. He can feel the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer. “J-James..”

James hums in acknowledgement, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He keeps up his pace, focusing on hitting that spot that makes Dave whine out so desperately.

“You close, baby?” he asks, his eyes roaming over the man’s face. Dave merely nods, whining out a yes in response, his breath coming out in short, ragged gasps.

There's a few moments of quiet, tension building up in the air, like lightning just before a storm. Dave's body tenses up, his muscles taut and straining as he reaches the peak of his pleasure. He comes with a cry that sounds more animalistic than human, his body going into spasm as his nails dig into James’ forearms.

James watches in awe, his fingers still inside of Dave, feeling the man’s inner walls clenching around him. He can see the tears of ecstasy on Dave’s lashes and the flush of pink covering the ginger’s sweaty face. He coaxed the older man through his orgasm before finally pulling away. Dave finally slumps back into the bed, he looks absolutely wrecked.

“That was hot,” James says, his voice a little dazed and out of breath.

Dave doesn’t immediately respond, his chest still heaving slightly as he tries to recover from the intense orgasm he just had. He feels like he’s been boneless, his limbs like jello and his brain turned to mush.

“Yeah…” he says finally, his voice hoarse and rough. “That was…something else, sweetheart.”

The corner of James’ mouth curves up in a cheeky little smile, a smug look in his eyes. He gently pulls his fingers out of Dave, bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean. “You taste good,” he says, the innocence in his voice contradicted by his actions.

Dave lets out a huff and rolls his eyes fondly at the boy’s antics. “You’re a tease, you know that?” he says, sitting up and pulling the vocalist in for a lazy kiss. He can taste a bit of himself on James’ tongue, and it shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

James laughs against the man’s lips, “Only for you, old man.”

He breaks away from the kiss and pushes Dave back down flat on his back, coming between his legs. He looks down at him, a wanting look in his eyes. “My turn, now?”Dave can’t help but chuckle at the boy’s neediness. “Well, you did such a good job earlier, I reckon you deserve a treat.”

He spreads his legs wider, one arm resting behind his head, the other hand tracing up and down the boy’s arm. James’ brain fizzles out a little at the sight, his eyes automatically drifting from the man’s face down to the space between his legs. He swallows, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“What..what do I do?” he asks, his voice slightly shaky as he glances down, then back up to meet Dave’s eyes. Dave can clearly see the tent in James’ jeans, aching to get out.

Dave reaches down and hooks a finger in the belt loop of James’ jeans, tugging him closer. “First, you take these off,” he mutters, James’ fingers making quick work of the button and zipper.

The vocalist squirms slightly, clearly a little eager to get his clothes off. He’s a little embarrassed at how hard he is, but Dave’s not going to tease him about it. He throws his jeans to the floor, revealing his white boxer briefs. The material is already damp from where he’s leaked precome through them, and he tossed those away too.

There’s a soft intake of breath from the man below him, his eyes roaming over the boy’s form appreciatively. “Mm…” Dave grins. “I knew you’d be big.”

James feels his cheeks heat up red, but the look in Dave’s eyes is enough to make his head spin. “Really?” he asks, hoping it’s true. “You’re like a damn tripod,” Dave teases, a wolfish smirk on his stupid pretty face. “Bet you’re gonna break someone in half with that thing.”

The vocalist lets out a choked laugh, “You flatter me.” he says, his cheeks flushing red.“Mmm, but only when I’m telling the truth, sweetheart.” Dave reaches up and grabs the boy’s hips, pulling him closer to his chest. “Come on now,” he murmurs, nipping at his ear. “I’m gonna teach you how to fuck someone properly. You ready?”

James can feel his heart thudding loudly in his chest as he nods his head, his eyes wide with anticipation. His hands come down to find purchase on Dave’s hips, and he swallows thickly. He nods mutely, unable to speak, his hands finding purchase on the man’s broad shoulders. “Yeah..just show me what to do.”

Dave smiles and draws him closer, legs wrapped around James hips. “First thing’s first,” he says, his hands trailing down the boy’s neck. “You can’t go in dry. It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker.”

James nods seriously, letting out a small “ah” as Dave speaks. He’s trying very hard to concentrate on what the man is saying and make sure he doesn’t mess this up. It helps that the man’s hands are trailing all over his body, soft and gentle.

“So you use lube. Probably the most important part. Be generous with it—better to be safe than sorry.”

The redhead reaches over and grabs the bottle from the nightstand, squeezing some into his hand and reaching down between their bodies. The cold liquid makes James shiver, but he holds himself still.

“That’s it. Just like that.” Dave says, as he starts to slowly pump his hand over the boy’s length, spreading the lube around. He’s looking up at the boy, admiring the way he flushes a deep red, his eyes dark and glassy. The boy has his lips bitten in a pout and his head thrown back, and Dave can almost imagine what he’ll look like moaning his name later.

James’ whole body jerks at the touch, gasping as Dave jerks him off. He’s trying not to make too many embarrassing sounds, but the feel of the man’s hand is almost too much. It feels too good to contain, and a small whorish moan escapes from his mouth. “Oh..my god, Dave..”

The older man grins, and he stops after James is seemed ready enough, guiding his cock towards his entrance. His cunt throbs, aching with need and soaking wet.

“You gotta look when you line yourself up, okay?”

James lets out a shaky breath and nods as he does what he’s told, his hands coming down on the bed next to Dave’s shoulders to keep his balance. When he begins to press in, he has to take a moment because of the sudden heat enveloping his cock. “Shit…God…” he shivers, biting his lip to keep himself from letting out a wanton moan.

Dave groans, hazel eyes fluttering shut. James is big—lengthy and girthy in a way that stretches him out beautifully. He’s only taken half of the blonde before he’s stilling him with a hand, face scrunching up as he tries to adjust.

“Wait a minute,” he gasps out, taking a few quick breaths to steady himself. James almost worries he’s done something wrong, but then Dave’s opening his eyes and looking up at him. The man’s expression is almost fond, and he places a hand against the boy’s cheek. “Just hold still for me, okay? You’re doing great.”

The boy nods, trying to remain as still as possible as Dave adjusts. “You’re really tight..” James whispers, and he has to make some effort to keep his breathing steady. He looks down at Dave, his eyes wide with awe. He’s never seen the man look so…vulnerable before.

“Yeah…I don’t do this often.” Dave grins, his hand coming up to toy with a few strands of the blonde’s hair. He shifts his hips a little, pushing down against James’ length. “Okay…you can move now.”

James lets out another shaky moan and begins to move, his body trembling as he slowly pushes in. The feeling of Dave’s warm and tight walls is better than anything he’s ever felt before…he’s not going to be able to last very long.

“Fuck….” The vocalist whimpers, his brow furrowing as he grips the sheets by the ginger’s head. He looks down at Dave, whose eyes are squeezed shut and mouth open in pleasure, strangled sounds of pleasure escaping his lips.

“You’re doing perfect, sweetheart.” Dave murmurs, his voice low and rough. He reaches up and runs a hand down the boy’s back, nails scraping lightly over the skin. “You make me feel so full.” The look on the guitarist’s face makes him want to keep this going on forever, because he looks so beautiful like this, chasing after his high like this is the meaning behind his life.

The vocalizations that Dave’s making is like music to his ears. It’s the most unguarded he’s ever heard the man, like the walls Dave’s spent so much time building has suddenly come down.

James feels a deep sense of pride in himself, that he can make the man who always seems in control fall apart like this. He leans down, his chest resting against Dave’s and he starts to pick up the pace a bit, but enough that they’re still going rather slow.

Dave can feel the boy trembling, the strain on his face as he tries to hold himself back. The way his muscles are clenched and straining, holding himself up as he moves back and forth, it makes him look like a Greek sculpture or a statue from ancient times. “You can go faster, sweetheart.” He says, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He’s enjoying this just as much as James is.

James lets out a guttural moan, the noise so deep and desperate that he’s almost ashamed of it. He can’t help but piston his hips into Dave like he’s afraid he’ll slip through his fingers., pushing into him deeper and faster, chasing that feeling of bliss. He looks down at the man’s face, watching the way his brows knit together, cheeks all rosy. “You look so good like this,” James gasps. “So perfect...”

Dave hums, the sound reverberating through his chest. He’s never had anyone so eager and willing before, someone who’s so focused on pleasing him. It’s doing things to his heart and his head that he doesn’t want to think too hard about. “You’re doing so well, baby..” he croons, fingers wrapping into the boy’s hair and pulling him down. “I’m so close..”

James’ body feels like it’s on fire, the words sending sparks down his spine and setting his skin aflame. He feels like he’s going to burst at the seams any second, and the way Dave’s hand is tangled in his hair, the other roaming all around his body, isn’t helping either. “Me too…I’m so close..” he whines, biting his lip as his eyes flutter close. James is now fucking into him with reckless abandon, chasing their mounting pleasures.

Dave can feel the tension coiled in the pit of his loins, ready to burst at any moment. “James-!” He screams, and then the boy is coming with a loud and desperate cry, his whole body trembling with the force of his orgasm. Dave follows close after, clenching his eyes shut as he trembles with the force of it. It almost feels like he goes white for a few moments, and he has to gasp for breath.

Dave’s insides feel gummy and warm with come, fluttering around James with the aftershocks of his climax. James’ lanky form collapses on top of Dave, and the older man gently scratches his scalp soothingly.

They stay connected for a few seconds, only pulling apart when they feel James’ semen start to ooze out of his sensitive cunt. Disheveled and blissed out, Dave smiles lazily up at James. The younger man smiles back, and there’s a flash of arousal in his powder-blue eyes at the sight of Dave.

“…Can we go again?”

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

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n3wstxd · 27 days ago

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results of the last poll:

since it was a tie there’s gonna be a second poll :)

results of the second poll:

okay thanks I’m gonna go write now

#n3wstxd

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n3wstxd · 1 month ago

Text

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 - 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄

warnings: Lars and Kirk playing matchmaker (kind of?), James being an a confusing asshole, Jason being helplessly charmed by James, Fluff

inspired by @magnetadraww’s art of Jason & James!! Defo gonna make a part 2 to this!

fluff under the cut :)

Over his time in Metallica, Jason found that spending nights hanging around his bandmates leaned into two different paths—they’d get shitfaced and pass out, or they’d play a stupid game that always involved one of them getting terribly embarrassed.

Tonight, it was clear it was going to end with someone getting humiliated. Hopefully it’s not him again…

With his arms crossed and his legs spread out, Jason sat on the hotel floor with his back against the sofa, watching Lars spin an empty bottle on the carpet in front of him. All three of his bandmates were seated on the sofa, watching with interest as the bottle clattered against the carpet, spinning in sharp, quick intervals before slowing down.

Watching with mild interest, he pops a blueberry in his mouth from the fruitbowl their hotel had so graciously provided. Blue eyes lock onto the neck of the bottle, watching it go round and round.

Eventually, the bottle slithers to a slow stop, and the neck of it points directly at Jason. Lars snickers lowly under his breath and Kirk looks like a child about to receive a birthday present, practically bursting with curiosity and excitement.

He huffs a groan, knowing he’ll have to pick between the lesser evil in Truth of Dare. It’s like they’re 13 year old girls at a sleepover. What’re they gonna do next? Chat about which teenage mutant ninja turtle deserves a death penalty?

“What’ll it be, Jase?” Kirk asks, barely able to keep the amusement out of his tone.

Lars nudges his arm against Jason’s shoulder, looking at him with an excited expression.

“C’mon, we all know you’ll choose truth. It’s not like you have the balls for a dare.”Lars knew exactly how to irk Jason—and to prove Lars wrong, he picked dare.

“Dare.” His voice holds a challenge—whatever they give him couldn’t be too bad. They had boundaries set for this: no nudity, public humiliation and dangerous dares.

Lars grins; it’s exactly what he wants, for Jason’s pride to make him pick dare.

Kirk, who had been sitting on the left, glances at Lars with an amused look on his face. It was obvious by their reactions that they were hoping he would pick dare.

“Alright then… I got a good one for you.” Lars grins mischievously, licking at his bottom lip.

Leaning forward, Lars sits up and looks down at Jason, who’s eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

“So, my dare… Is for you to eat a strawberry.”

Jason’s taken aback at how simple the dare is. There must be a twist…

“…Just eating a strawberry?” He says in a bewildered tone. Lars smirks—he’s clearly loving this.

“Yup! Just eating a strawberry.”

Kirk sits back against the sofa, his face displaying a look of feigned confusion.

“What’s wrong, Jason? Scared?”

“No, just..confused.” He mutters, reaching into the fruit bowl for a perfectly red strawberry. He thinks everything’s going maybe okay, until Lars drops the bomb on him. The second half of the dare.

Once Jason’s settled with the strawberry in his fingers, Lars grins and adds, “Oh—almost forgot to mention the one little catch…”

“You have to eat it with James.”

Kirk nods in agreement, like this was all planned out, and it probably was.

“You both have to eat half of the strawberry, with the strawberry right between you guys. Should be simple right?”

Jason swallows back a groan—they were always trying to push him and James together. It’s not that he hated James, no, not at all. But the guy kind of intimidated him, and the feeling he got when he was around the frontman was strange and a little uncomfortable.

He looks up at his two bandmates, both of which were waiting for his answer and he knew he didn’t have much of a choice. If he refuses, he’ll be labeled a pussy.

“Why’re you dragging me into this?” James laments, frowning. James made it very clear he didn’t like the idea one bit—typical James behaviour.

Lars rolls his eyes, and Kirk grins mischievously.

“Oh c’mon, it’s a damn strawberry. It’ll be over in ten seconds.”

“Yeah, we’re not asking you to make out.” Kirk chirps, knowing that would get a rise out of James. It worked, and James threw him an annoyed look.

Jason watched the back and forth like a tennis match, and he could see the wheels turning in James’s head. Jason’s sure the guy’s gonna refuse, like he always does, until James suddenly speaks.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Jason’s eyes widen and he can’t help but wonder why James had changed his mind. He watches as James sits up against the sofa, and he realizes it’s probably because he doesn’t want to appear like he’s scared to do a silly dare.

“Atta’ boy, James!” Lars exclaims happily, patting James’s shoulder. Kirk grins, and Jason’s certain he’s secretly enjoying the two of them being forced together.

Feeling his cheeks heat up, Jason’s face begins to flush red. He can’t believe James actually agreed, and he can already feel his heartbeat increase. This would be a long night.

Jason hoists himself off the ground, settling next to James on the couch. This is so embarrassing, even with just the four of them in the room. He doesn’t know where to start—where to even place the strawberry, how this would work.

It seems like James has other plans, because he’s soooo confident, taking the berry out of Jason’s hand. So he was going to take the lead? Okay, he could work with that…

Jason could sense James’s confidence, and it only made him more flustered. He could see Lars and Kirk smiling at them both, their heads leaning forward like they’re watching a movie.

Jason’s heart hammered in his chest when James’s fingers brushed against his. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself down, but it didn’t work. James was so close to him, and he swore he could feel the heat from his body.

James smirks smugly, and Jason’s just glad to find that the guy isn’t giving him any issues yet.

“You don’t need to look so nervous, Jase. It’ll be over before you know it. “

He shifts in his spot, moving a little closer to Jason and holding the strawberry in front of both of their faces.

Jason could hardly respond—he was too focused on trying not to have a heart attack. James being close to him like this was overwhelming, and it was only going to get worse. The fact that Lars and Kirk were eagerly watching them didn’t help either. He felt so awkward, but he knew there was no backing out of this now.

“Open wide…”

Jason’s eyes widen in shock as James commands, and he could feel a shiver run down his spine. How was he supposed to handle this? He swallowed back a gulp, but slowly did as the guy told him to and opened his mouth.

The heat in his cheeks deepened, and this was humiliating. This dare was a terrible, terrible idea. But he would get through it. James brings the strawberry closer to his mouth, and Jason’s mind is running a million miles a minute.

He almost squeaks when James’s thumb makes contact with his bottom lip, pulling it down slightly to allow the berry to enter his mouth. His hand then moves to hold his nape—the gesture is waaaay to intimate, and Jason notices the tiniest sound of surprise from Lars.

The strawberry is placed between their mouths, and Jason’s struggling to breathe. This was so wrong—there was no reason James needed to hold him like this. He could feel the guy’s fingers press firmly against the sensitive skin of his neck, and he’s positive James could probably feel how hot his skin is.

Jason tries to maintain a calm demeanor, but he’s positive he’s a flushed mess right now, but he has to keep his cool. He can’t look like an idiot in front of James or his other two bandmates.

James smirks, and Jason’s sure it’s because the guy knows exactly what this is doing to him. The fingers against his nape feel like they’re burning through his skin, and the urge to press against James’s touch is almost too much to bear.

He can still feel Kirk and Lars’s eyes on him. They’re probably enjoying this like two damn kids watching an interesting tv show.

Jason’s starting to regret ever agreeing to this stupid game—how could this dare be so intimate? They’re just supposed to eat a strawberry for god’s sake, but of course James had to make it so difficult.

Jason’s eyes flicker up to James’s, and the smirk on the frontman’s face confirms that he’s enjoying this. It’s like he was trying to get a reaction out of him on purpose.

The strawberry is somehow incredibly juicy, and when James and Jason bite down on it simultaneously, the juice somehow all drips down Jason’s chin. James looks untouched, but Jason has to cup a hand to prevent the sweet juices from dirtying his clothes. James seems to be amused by that—though there’s a glint of emotion in his eye Jason can’t quite pinpoint.

Jason’s absolutely embarrassed, and he’s certain he’s the color of a tomato at this point, but James seems to be enjoying his suffering. He can’t believe he’s managed to make a mess eating a damn strawberry, but here he is.

He’s too focused on trying to hide his shame to notice the way James’s gaze travels down to his lips, watching the trickle of juice slide down his chin.

He tries to discreetly wipe his chin, but he can’t help but feel James’s eyes on him. The guy’s looking at the drop of juice on his chin like he desperately wants to taste it. The thought sends a shudder running down his spine, and the only thing Jason wants right now is to get this experience over with.

He glances up to get a look at their bandmates—Kirk’s snickering lowly, and Lars is completely shocked—but their reactions are the least of his worries right now.

“Okay, there. Happy?” He bristled, not very happy with either of the pair. This was their fault. They had planned this stupid dare.

“Yeah.” James leans back against the couch, and a wicked smirk graces his face.

Kirk and Lars can’t help but snicker, their eyes flickering to examine the two bandmates. Kirk speaks up first, barely able to hide his amusement.

“That was… certainly something.” He chuckles lowly, and Lars grins widely, clearly enjoying himself too much.

By the end of the night, Jason knows that deep down, he’s the one that’s lost the game that time. Again.

Throughout the rest of the night, Lars and Kirk continued to poke fun at him and James, but Jason couldn’t focus at all. He was far too distracted by the fact that James had been acting strange towards him.

He kept catching glimpses of the guy looking at him, the look on his face almost…wanting. Whatever that was supposed to mean…

That evening, Jason’s mind would often wander back to their little ‘dare’. The feeling of James’s fingers against his neck and the heat from the guy’s body was forever burned into his mind, and that stupid little smirk that had been on his face…

It was almost hard to believe that this was the same guy that used to snap at him for the dumbest, tiniest things.

It was driving him crazy. He couldn’t think straight. His heart’s racing, and he’s positive all his thoughts and feelings were written all over his face.

The only way he was going to get rid of this uneasy feeling was to go lay down, but he knew he’d just lay there and replay the entire night in his head. He knew sleep wouldn’t find him tonight.

In fact, something or rather someone, found him instead…

Jason was in his hotel room, flopped on one of the beds as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to forget about the nights events. He could still feel the heat of James’s body and the touch of his fingers against his nape, like the sensations had left a permanent mark against his skin.

He heard a knock against the door, and he groaned, assuming it was either Kirk or Lars ready to bug him some more.

He heaves himself up off the bed with a sigh, and he walks over to the door. He opens it, expecting to see Kirk or Lars standing in the doorway, but to his surprise, it��s…James.

The frontman stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, and he’s watching Jason with a calm expression. Jason’s completely shocked to see him here, and his first thought is that the guy’s here to continue making fun of him.

All he can manage out is a small “Hey.” It’s pathetic, but he doesn’t know what else to say, especially after that stupid dare. His heart beats against his chest like thunder, and he’s sure James could hear it from the way he smirks like something about his embarrassment is so funny.

James’s smirk deepens, and he pushes off from the doorframe to enter the hotel room, forcing Jason to side-step so he can get past. He closes the door behind him with a silent click, and the room instantly falls into silence.

Jason’s heart is racing, but he doesn’t know why. What was the guy even doing here?

James turns to Jason again, and it takes everything in him to not shiver under the guys intense gaze. He’s used to having to deal with James’s intimidating stares, but it feels different for some reason. It’s almost like he’s not used to having those sharp, dark eyes focused directly on him.

“You look nervous.” James remarks, his voice deep and low.

Jason clenches his jaw at the remark, and he swallows down the lump in his throat. He is nervous, but he doesn’t know why and he isn’t about to admit it to the guy either.

“What do you want?” Jason’s voice is steady, but he can’t help but feel the slightest bit flustered with James standing so close to him.

James raises his eyebrows, like he’s amused by Jason’s attempt at acting like he’s not ruffled. That smirk is still on his face.

“What? Can’t I just come see you?” He steps forward, now mere inches away from the other man.

Jason’s heart begins to thump even faster, and he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks. He’s been alone with James plenty of times before, but this was different.

He didn’t know exactly what it was, but James’s expression and the way he was looking at him was making him anxious. It was like he could read right through him.

He crosses his arms over his chest, hoping to hide some of his nerves.

“You never just ‘come visit me,’ so spit it out.”

James keeps his calm demeanor, taking another step forward and effectively backing Jason up against the wall. Jason’s throat gets tight as he feels the cold surface of the wall behind him.

James places both his hands on either side of Jason, and he’s practically towering over him now. A small shiver racks through Jason’s body, and James can definitely see it now.

“Can’t a friend check up on his bandmate?”

James’s smirk morphs into a half grin, and he takes another step forward, closing the already small space between them. Jason’s heart is beating quicker than a damn machine gun now, and his whole face feels warm.

Jason doesn’t even know what to say. The front man was way too close to him—he could feel the heat of James’s body and the sound of his breathing. He clenches his jaw, and he desperately wills himself to hide any hint of how flustered he is.

“Is that what you do? Just corner your band mates and crowd them into a wall?”

“Only you.”

James’s voice is a low, almost sultry tone, and Jason’s sure his heart just skipped a beat. He tries to come up with some sort of response, but the words get stuck in his throat.

He’s absolutely flustered now, and James has to know that he’s got him trapped against the wall like a fly.

James takes a moment to look Jason over, and the small shiver that wracks through the man’s body doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He moves in even closer, until there’s only an inch between them. Jason’s breathing increases, and a red flush slowly creeps across his cheeks.

“You look pretty like this.” James murmurs, his gaze wandering over Jason’s face.

The words catch Jason off guard, and he’s sure the flush on his cheeks deepens. This shouldn’t be having this much of an effect on him, but it was.

James’s voice is so low, but his demeanor is still so calm, like he’s unaffected by having Jason this close to him. Jason swallows dryly, desperately trying to collect his thoughts.

“P-pretty?” He whispers, his voice cracking slightly.

James lifts a hand, and Jason’s breath hitches in his throat as the guy slowly moves his hand up to his face. He watches with wide eyes as James’s fingers gently caress his jawline, and a small gasp escapes his mouth.

The feeling of the other man’s touch sends shivers through his body, and the smirk on James’s face is so smug and irritating and…attractive.

James brushes a thumb over Jason’s bottom lip, and his smirk deepens when he feels the other man’s body shudder. The way Jason’s breathing was increasing and how his face had gone red was too good to ignore.

He leans in impossibly close, his voice a low whisper right beside Jason’s ear.

“So cute…”

Jason’s whole body goes tense at the feel of James’s breath against his ear, and he’s positive the guy can hear the rate of his heart thumping wildly inside his chest.

He doesn’t know what to do—he can’t think straight with James so close to him like this. James’s hand is still caressing his face, and he can feel himself slowly start to come undone under the other man’s touch.

“I can hear your breathing, y’know.” James mutters lowly, his thumb now caressing the sensitive skin beneath his chin. He tilts Jason’s head up, calloused fingers gliding against his skin like silk.

Jason almost whimpers, but he quickly bites his bottom lip to stop any sound from coming out. The front man’s touch seemed like it was burning his skin, and it was so damn irritating how calm he still looked.

Jason swallows back a small gasp as James’s thumb still caresses the sensitive skin of his chin, and he can’t believe he was letting the guy do this. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop him or push him away.

“You’re shaking.” James murmurs, and Jason’s breath hitches in his throat. The man was right—he was shaking like a damn leaf.

His body trembles slightly as James’s hand cups his jaw, and Jason curses under his breath. The guy’s touch was too warm, just like when he held him during the dare.

James runs the soft pad of his thumb against Jason’s cheek in a slow, gentle motion, and a small whimper escapes his mouth. The sound is pathetic and embarrassing, and he’s sure James is definitely laughing internally at how affected he is.

James leans in closer, and Jason can’t help but wonder is this is how all the girls feel like when James seduces them. Heart rate spiking, cheeks all flush and rosy, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

The blonde likes this—it’s different from all the groupies and girls he’s used to charming. It’s a good kind of different, one that he wants to draw out. He wants to make Jason want him more than does already; to chase him down and prove his worthiness for James’ true affections.

This is just a test run to see if Jason could get wrapped around his finger from a minuscule interaction.

James closes the small, almost microscopic space between them even more, and a small shudder wrecks through Jason’s body as he feels the other man’s breath against his skin. His heart is beating even faster, if that’s possible, and the look on his face feels so utterly pathetic.

James’s own heart is racing, but he does a good job of keeping a stoic expression. Seeing Jason all flustered like this is doing things to him, but he doesn’t want the man to know it.

Not yet, at least.

He moves his hand down to Jason’s neck, and the man’s breath hitches. James’s fingers brush against Jason’s pulse point, and he can feel how the man’s heart is pounding frantically.

Jason is desperately trying to keep himself composed, but he’s failing miserably. James smirks again, now sure that Jason’s fallen into his love trap.

“You’re so damn shaky, hm?” James practically purrs, his voice deep and low in a tone that would make anyone shiver. He runs small circles against Jason’s skin, and the other man has to restrain himself from leaning into the touch. God, this man was such a jerk.

The guitarist leans in close to his bassist, their lips a hair’s length away from each other just as it was a while ago. Devious blue eyes dart to Jason’s peachy lips, a hunger clear in them.

Jason’s flustered expression is like an invitation—one that he’s so eager to accept, and yet, he wills himself not to.

James can’t help but admire how Jason looks like this, vulnerable and so desperate. It’s so much more enticing than any of the women he’s been with.

His eyes dart to the other man’s lips again, and he can practically see how they would be plump and soft against his own. Would making out with him be gentle and soft, tender like long-lost lovers? Or would it be passionate and rough like they were crazed animals in a rut? He almost shudders at the thought of kissing Jason.

But no, that would ruin the fun. He wanted to drag this out and tease the poor defenceless man until he came running to him begging for more.

James cruelly pulls away, patting Jason on the cheek gently like he was a kid. He flashes the auburnette his signature grin.

“I’ll see you around, Jase.”

Jason wants to snap his neck. How dare he, after all the tension, the buildup? Just leaving him like that, sauntering out the door? The audacity! But what had Jason truly expected? To receive a kiss, or more?

Left alone with his stupidly filthy thoughts and the lingering touch of his frontman, Jason sinks down to the ground, head in his hands.

Fuck, he cursed internally. He knew he was in the deep end.

With the closing of the door, James’s smile falters. Damn it all, seeing Jason so flustered like that had him on the edge of losing all his patience.

He desperately wants to go back to the room and pin the man against the wall, make him moan under his fingers. God, the way he had trembled when he touched his face had set his veins on fire. But no, he had to remain strong. He can’t make any moves too early…

…Not when the game had just begun.

#n3wstxd #metallica #jason newsted #james hetfield

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n3wstxd · 1 month ago

Note

Hiiiii thank u for supporting my works! Could you do something with werewolf james and human jason? I’m thinking james bottoms and his claws scratch up jason’s back during sex.. so james, like the puppy he is, pleads with jason to lick the scratches better

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍/𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 - 𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

warnings: mild blood, blood kink, scratching kink, wound licking, anal sex, rough sex, Jason’s too nice for his own good

okay wait you cooked with this req hold on

nsfw under the cut :)

Jason’s heavy breath ghosts against James’ sweaty neck, calloused hands gripping the blonde’s hips in a vice grip. Soft moans escape his lips, eyes screwed shut in concentration as he rams into James with reckless abandon, the younger man under him gutturally groaning.

Long legs wrap around his hips, bringing Jason ever closer to James, who has a hand tangled in the curly mess of Jason’s auburn hair.

Jason’s going easy on him—he’s always too tender and gentle when they have intimacy. Sometimes James has to remind the human that he’s not made of glass, that he wants him to push his limits.

With Jason’s soft touches, his gentle caresses and his tender nature it makes James’s mind fuzzy. He appreciates the tenderness Jason gives to him but sometimes it just is too much, James has to remind Jason that he won’t break, that he likes it rough at times.

“Harder,” James growls, his claws dragging up Jason’s back gently, as if egging him on.

“Please, c’mon,” James groans, arching his back, the sheets beneath him ruffled and crumpled, a mess from previous events. James feels Jason press a delicate kiss to his shoulder, and while he usually melts under his touch, right now he needs it rough, he wants to go hard.

Jason’s sweetness is starting to get on his nerves.

“Jason, please just-“ James begs softly. He’s desperate for his human to understand what he wants, he wants Jason to let loose, to just use him.

Jason seems to always be careful around him, he’s careful with his touches and his kissing, always being delicate and cautious. It’s starting to drive James insane with how soft he is being.

James groans in the back of his throat at yet another soft kiss on his shoulder, he’d never say any of this out loud for risk of Jason not understanding, but this is just too soft for him, he wants Jason to be rough, to slam into him, to give him it rough and hard, to break him.

His hand in Jason’s curls grips them roughly, drawing a whine of pain from the bassist. “James—” He chokes out, feeling the dangerously sharp nails against his scalp.

James tightens his grip, not a hair on Jason’s head will escape him, “Stop being so damn soft with me.” James growls out, moving his other hand to Jason’s neck, his large hand easily wrapping around it, his claws dangerously close.

“Just stop being so gentle,” James whines. While one hand stays around Jason’s pale neck, his other claws slide down his torso and grab his hip, urging him for him to move faster, harder. Jason’s always acting like he’s too delicate.

Jason, ever the people-pleaser, picks up the pace, blunt nails digging small crescents into his tanned skin.

James sighs in relief at this, it’s better than before, but Jason’s still not at that pace James wants, he’s still too gentle. Jason’s still not going fast enough, he’s still too careful. He wants Jason to break him, just let loose and give it to him rough, make him unable to walk straight, just push him to his limit.

“Jason,” he groans, the name is a mix between a plea and a growl. James’ grip on both Jason’s hair and his hip is tight, almost bruising.

He’s going faster but it’s still not enough, James is losing his mind with Jason’s soft nature, he’s being too kind with him and James wants more. “Faster,” James sighs, his other hand digging into Jason’s back, definitely leaving red marks in its wake.

Jason’s movements are still too careful, too soft for James, he needs Jason to just let go of his delicacy and go rough with him, to take him, to really give it to him rough, he wants it to hurt in the best way possible, he craves it. “C’mon please,” James begs now, he’s getting frustrated with Jason’s softness.

James’ tail flicks against the bed in agitation, Jason’s touches is making his mind turn to mush, but at the same, he just wants Jason to let go, to stop worrying so much about being careful with him, Jason needs to let go and give it to him hard, he wants it to hurt.

His tail wraps around Jason’s leg, an attempt to get him to go harder, to stop treating him like glass.

Jason’s pace seems to pick up a small bit, enough for James to notice the difference, but still just a tad too soft for his liking. James lets out a mix of a groan and a growl as his nails claw down his back, drawing red lines wherever they go. Jason just isn’t doing enough for him, he wants him to wreck him.

Jason hisses in pain, giving a particularly brutal thrust as retaliation. Fuck, that was good. That was perfect.

Finally. Finally Jason’s pace is what he wanted, he needed, he feels the familiar pain that accompanies Jason’s rough movements, a feeling James has come to love dearly. His hand retracts from Jason’s throat to grasp at the sheets

James lets out a guttural moan at the rough thrust, it’s what he’s been wanting all this time, Jason’s not being too soft anymore, he’s doing what James wants, it feels amazing..

James is finally getting what he’s been wanting, his nails dig into Jason’s back, definitely drawing blood this time, but he can’t find it in him to care when Jason’s got him so caught up in ecstasy.

It’s painful, it’s painful and good, it hurts in the best of ways and James loves it, he wants more, he needs more. He growls, low in the back of his throat, Jason finally getting the message. Jason finally understanding that James doesn’t want to be treated delicately like a god, that he wants him to use him, to treat him like he’s just a toy to derive pleasure from.

The sound of their skin slapping together is loud, it’s the only thing James can hear besides his own breathing, Jason’s breathing and the bed creaking beneath them, it’s music to his ears. James groans, Jason’s pace is the exactly what he wanted but he still wants more, he needs more. He wants Jason to break this time, to wreck him.

Jason’s pace gets faster, and the pain mixes in with the burning pleasure, it’s just what James wanted, Jason finally just letting go and giving it to him hard. Those rough hands fly to Jason’s back, digging into his skin slightly.

It’s rough and brutal, Jason’s letting go, not holding back, not being delicate, just giving it to him rough. James moans at that, his claws digging further into the human’s back, definitely drawing blood now.

Finally Jason’s getting it, just giving his all to him, not holding back at all. James feels Jason’s hands on his hips, bruises are already forming from his grip, he likes that, he wants Jason to ruin him.

Jason’s pace is perfect, all James can do now is lay there and take it, a mix between a moan and a growl escaping his lips occasionally.

“You like it rough, you little slut?” Jason rasps, sweat dripping down his arms as he props himself up over James.

Jason’s words has James’ breath catch in his throat, his words sending a wave of pleasure through his whole body, his tail thumping against the bed, Jason’s hitting him in all the best spots, just hitting him perfectly.

“Yes,” James groans, his breathing is ragged and his mind is fuzzy. At this point he’s completely lost his voice, he can barely form words, his tail is still thumping against the bed, Jason’s words affecting him more than the others.

Jason hisses as James claws at his back again. Sticky red blood smears across his back from the surface scratches, and he’s going to have a lot to explain should he get caught with such cuts.

James just loves the way Jason looks like this, the scratches he’s giving Jason, the red lines he’s leaving, his back all scratched up. Blood is smeared on his fingers from Jason’s back, and it’s beautiful to James.

He wants Jason to be like this, covered in his scratches, covered in his marks and to have red lines in his skin showing exactly where James has been.

The way Jason is giving it to him just has his mind completely fuzzy, all he can do is moan. The scratches Jason has aren’t deep, but they’re definitely going to leave a mark, probably going to be there for a couple of weeks. Jason’s pace is brutal and that just has James’ mind turning to mush and his breath catching in his throat.

Jason’s head tips back, whimpers spilling from his lips like revered words, and god, James loves it when he’s like that. He sounds so pathetic, even when he’s not the one getting ruined.

James loves the sounds Jason is letting out, it’s music to his ears, the little whimpers and moans.. He can’t even think right now, his mind can only focus on Jason and the overwhelming pleasure that’s coursing through him. Jason’s pace is perfect, he’s perfect, everything about him in this moment is perfect.

Jason’s pace has James completely at his mercy, his mind fuzzy to the point that he can’t even form a coherent thought, all he can do is lay there and whimper and moan, letting out the noises Jason loves to hear so much.

His tail is thumping against the bed, Jason hitting his prostate perfectly every time and James can’t do anything but lay there and feel the pleasure running through his veins.

As they simultaneously build up to their peaks, James’ nails break skin again, coating the shiny keratin in gore.

He can’t help but find a way to be gentle amidst the pleasure, James’ calloused fingers are rough against the scratches on Jason’s back and it’s a stark contrast from how brutal his touches have been previously.

Jason bites down hard on James’ shoulder, wincing as those sharp nails roam over the bloodied expanse of his back. The pain sinks into his flesh, but there’s an edge of pain that hits him just right, making it even more satisfying.

James bites down on his lip to try to prevent a whimper from escaping it at the bite, but fails, a small whimper escaping him. Jason’s bite was definitely going to leave a mark, a nice reminder that James can keep, that Jason is his.

Heat coils in Jason’s loins like a firework ready to burst, his eyes squeezing shut as he hits his high, fingers digging into James’ slim hips with an iron grip. “Fuuuuck—”

Jason’s grip on his hips and his voice combined with the perfect pace just has James’ head spinning, his back arching off the bed, a moan escaping him at the rough grip Jason has on his hips.

As they catch their breath, Jason’s lighter frame draped over James, they feel boneless. The both of them lay there for a little while, until James feels a liquid drip down onto his thigh from Jason’s back.

Jason’s beautiful wine-coloured blood, warm and hot against his cool skin.

James wraps his arms loosely around Jason’s waist, a small sigh escaping him. His eyes glance down to his thigh, where Jason’s blood is dripping onto his skin, it’s pretty. James almost can’t tear his eyes away from it, wanting to burn the image into his mind.

Shakily, Jason sits up and moves off James, wincing at the semi-deep cuts’ sting. James can’t help but want to see the damage, his handiwork.

James sits up as well as Jason gets off him, his hands gently grabbing Jason’s shoulder, gently turning him. He looks down at Jason’s back, the scratches he’d left there, the red lines running down his back, all of them with blood staining a couple of them.

He can’t help but be proud, he did that, he made Jason look like this, he did that to him. He wants Jason to keep those marks for as long as he can, he wants to see his scratches on him everyday.

“Turn around.” He commands, and Jason obeys like the good little human he is.

The red lines, the scratches that show exactly where James had been, the scratches that were all his doing, it’s gorgeous. Jason looks perfect like this, the scratches, the bruises and the marks. James can’t take his eyes off them, the scratches that are his to look at for as long as Jason keeps them, they’re his own creation.

To Jason, it’s a little bit concerning how much his back bleeds, trickling down his sweaty skin. To James, it’s so tantalising, reminiscent of a fresh kill to him. There’s the primal ache to just reach out and taste his gore, hot and a cherry red.

He swipes up the blood left on his thigh, popping the finger in his mouth for a little taste, maybe it’d satiate him..

Jason’s blood on his thigh and the taste of it on his tongue has him sighing contentedly. His blood reminds him of the time the two first met, when his blood had been on his fur, he doesn’t feel ashamed thinking about it any more, because Jason is his, he is Jason’s.

The blood from Jason on his tongue is bittersweet, it tastes metallic and like Jason, and there’s something primal inside James that just wants to keep tasting it, keep it pouring and keep this to himself, to his memory. A reminder of how he’d made Jason look like this, a reminder of how Jason is his in these moments, a reminder that Jason is his to ruin.

“…What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Jason says half-seriously. It’s not meant as an insult, but he certainly is bewildered.

James hums, pulling his finger out of his mouth. “It tastes as good as it smells,” he explains, not bothering to elaborate further.

He likes that Jason doesn’t understand him, that Jason won’t understand his desire to taste his blood, the way it reminds him of when they’d first met. It is comforting that Jason simply won’t get that.

“..Right, forgot you’ve got a taste for…blood.” Jason mutters, shaking his head.

James hums again, grabbing Jason’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Jason’s blood smells amazing, even just watching the small amount drip down on his back is wonderful, he wants to lick it off like a wound, a reminder that Jason is his, but he can’t, and it’s frustrating, he wishes Jason would just understand, he wants him to understand but he won’t.

“I should probably get that cleaned up.” He mutters, wiping his brow. “What would Kirk and Lars say…”

“What, you’re worried they’re gonna wonder what happened?” James guesses, letting his hand travel down Jason’s back.

He’s pretty sure they’ll probably ask about it, and Jason probably won’t give a direct answer. He’s sure Kirk and Lars will know what’s up, they’re smart enough to figure it out, well, maybe not Lars, but still.

It’s amusing to think about what Jason will say if they ask, because they’ll definitely ask him, James knows that. They’re probably gonna ask if he’s been getting laid, and Jason will either lie or tell them he got attacked by an animal, it’ll be hilarious.

On unsteady feet, Jason stands. He knows fully well that showering will be a pain in his ass now that he’s all cut up.

James looks at Jason, eyes roaming over his scratched back a bit more, before looking up. He watches Jason stand up, stumbling a bit at first. He seems to be a bit unsteady on his feet, but James’ eyes are now fixed on the scratches on his back, he can’t help but admire his own handiwork again. It’s gorgeous, really.

“Where ya goin’?”

“To get this mess cleaned up.”

A thought pops into James’ head—Jason’s wounds need to be cleaned, and he’s got a craving for more of that coppery blood. Why not kill two birds with one stone?

“Come back—I’ll help.”

“Don’t we need to go to the bathroom?” An eyebrow raised, Jason turns back, wiping at the blood that’s trailed down to his tailbone,

James’ eyes flicker down to the blood that’s trailed down Jason’s back, a sight he loves to see, loves to look at. He’s proud of the sight and the scratches he’s caused.

“It’s fine. We can get the sheets cleaned if it gets too messy.” He waves off Jason’s concerns, patting the spot in front of him.

“The sink—“

“Just sit.”

A small sigh escapes Jason, a small sigh that’s almost a huff. He can be stubborn, and James knows that, but he also knows Jason would probably prefer his wounds getting cleaned. So with that, Jason relents and sits back down in front of James, sighing as he does so.

James shifts behind Jason, glancing at all the scratches he has left on Jason’s back.

Softly, his fingers brush against the scratches on his back, a couple of them causing Jason to flinch at the pain. James is gentle for now, because the scratches are still fresh and painful, and he doesn’t want to hurt Jason any more than he already has.

After carefully checking the scratches, James leans in close to whisper to Jason.

“Can I lick ‘em?”

Instantaneously, Jason’s head whips around, and James gets a face full of curls.

“You..WHAT?” Jason looks so taken aback, like it’s a horrifying thing James just asked. “It tasted good,” James explains with a shrug, his fingers still gently brushing against the scratches he’d made. He knows Jason isn’t gonna understand, but it doesn’t hurt to try and explain anyway.

“Just a taste, I promise,” he adds, his tongue darting out of his mouth, the thought of licking those up making his mouth water.

“They’ll get infected!”

“They won’t,” James says softly, his fingers gently brushing against another scratch, watching as it drips a bit of blood. “Werewolf saliva prevents infection,” he lies, looking back up at Jason. “I just wanna taste,” he says, a bit of a whine escaping him.

“C’mon, please? Jase…”

James’ fingers brush against another one of the scratches, and his tongue involuntarily darts out, licking a bit of the blood from his finger.

He doesn’t understand why Jason is so against it, because it definitely isn’t going to give an infection, and it’s just something that he wants to do, he wants it. It’s like when dogs lick a wound.

Jason considers it—and the poor bastard accepts the lie, huffing and turning his back fully to James, sweeping his hair out of the way.

“Get on with it, whiny brute.”

James has a victorious feeling in his chest when Jason agrees to this, he can’t contain the proud smug on his lips as the human exposes his back for him.

The blonde shifts again, now he’s sat directly behind Jason, his eyes are fixated on the scratches he’d left on his skin. A small sigh escapes Jason’s lips and James takes it as the go ahead, before he leans in close, a hand gently on Jason’s thigh, the other on his waist to steady both them.

James pulls him close, his warm, unnaturally long tongue swiping at the weeping wounds, and Jason shivers. His saliva stings a little, cold against his heated skin. Warm hands fondle his body while James’ tongue favours the salty and coppery taste.

“Licking it til’ it’s all better, huh?” Jason muses, glancing back at James.

James pulls Jason as close as he can while being careful not to press against his wounds too much, his tongue gently swiping at Jason’s scratches. His hands gently caress Jason’s waist and thigh, taking his time to lick all the scratches clean.

James’ tongue laps at the various scratches he’d left on Jason’s back, his eyes occasionally glancing up to meet Jason’s. When Jason glances back at James, the werewolf pulls away for a second to answer.

“Mhm. Till it’s alllll better…” he purrs, before resuming licking at a particularly deep scratch.

He gathers up the blood from the scratches, his tongue swirling over them, his lips occasionally pressing against them in something that’s almost a kiss. He gets to them all, not a single scratch left without being cleaned, lapped at, or having his lips pressed against them.

He takes his time with licking Jason’s cuts clean, and when he’s done he’s satisfied with his work, his tongue flicks over the scratches one last time to catch any stray drops of blood that he may have missed.

James pulls away after making sure he’s gotten them all cleaned, a pleased hum escaping him as his tongue slips of his mouth. His hands are still on Jason’s waist and thigh, keeping him close.

He can’t stop looking at the scratches on the human’s pale skin, he loves the marks he’s made, and he loves that he’s cleaned them up.

He loves the way they look, having his own marks on Jason’s soft skin. But he thinks what he loves even more is the fact that he’s got Jason right now, his human, his beautiful human in his hold, he’s got him sitting in front of him, his back on full display for his eyes to see.

James pulls Jason even closer to his chest, the human’s back pressed against him, his arm wrapping around Jason’s waist, holding him flush against his chest.

“I should get these wrapped up..” Jason lifts James’ hands off his body, shuffling to the edge of the bed. His back feels cold from the now-drying saliva on his back. Gross…

A slight pang of disappointment hits James when Jason pulls away from his grip, shuffling to the edge of the bed to get up. Not being able to touch Jason like that, to hold him like that is almost torture, but he doesn’t voice his disappointment.

Instead, he watches in silence, his eyes looking at the scratches on Jason’s back, his mind running rampant as he thinks of the way Jason looked with them earlier.

Into the bathroom Jason goes, leaving James there on the bed alone. With nothing better to do, he follows his human in, holding onto the walls for support.

James follows Jason, his legs still a bit wobbly and shaky from their activities earlier, his hands holding onto the wall for support. He doesn’t say a word, he just follows, wanting to be close to Jason and watch him.

The auburnette finally gets a good look at his wounds—numerous scratches on his back, dried up blood faintly there. Yikes, it was worse than he thought. He twisted his body and dabbed at his wounds, wincing at the water on the warm washcloth.

James just watches in silence, leaning against the doorframe as his eyes flick over to Jason, watching the way Jason carefully dabs the washcloth against his back, wincing at the pain. He can’t help but feel a hint of pride in his chest at the sight.

“I might need a little help…” Jason murmurs, glancing over his shoulder at James.

James perks up at Jason’s words, quickly pushing himself off the doorframe, walking over to Jason. He knows what he means, and he’s ready and more than happy to help.

James steps up behind Jason, arms going around his waist, and he carefully takes the washcloth from Jason’s hands.

“Want me to do it?”

“Yeah.”

At Jason’s words, James is happy to do it, starting to dab at the scratches as gently as he can, not wanting to hurt Jason, his other arm still wrapped around his waist, holding him close.

His eyes look at the scratches he’d left on Jason’s back, admiring them, watching the way the washcloth rubs against them, and he does his best at being gentle, not wanting to press to hard or hurt Jason.

“Maybe next time I should wear something protective so I my back doesn’t get all fucked up.”

James’ hands stop for a second, his arms tightening a bit around Jason’s waist. The thought of Jason being protected from him in some way doesn’t sit right with him, because he knows that next time it’ll happen again.

“No,” James says, his mouth close to Jason’s ear, his voice slightly muffled by Jason’s hair, although his voice definitely held an edge of finality to it.

“I’d rather not have the wounds reopen..” He tries to justify—it’s a legitimate concern.

James’ eyebrows scrunch up a little at Jason’s words, his mind running rampant with a mix of emotion. Jason doesn’t understand, he doesn’t understand how it’s comforting for James to see his marks, he doesn’t understand how it would be unsettling for James if what they did earlier wasn’t a two way street.

He just sighs, his hands gently dabbing the washcloth against Jason’s wounds again.

James’ movements are gentle as he dabs the washcloth against the scratches, his eyebrows still furrowed at his annoyance at the words Jason had said. He’ll be damned if Jason ever protects himself in any way from him.

Jason’s words ring in his ears even long after he’s done cleaning the scratches, James’ movements are still gentle, but his grip around Jason’s waist is still tight, his face buried in the crook of Jason’s now cleaned up neck.

Jason carefully unrolls a roll of bandages, holding them out to James in an unspoken question.

James sighs again, but carefully takes the bandages, wrapping them around Jason’s back over his scratches, securing them so they won’t fall off or let anything through them, making sure they won’t come undone.

He’s still annoyed that Jason would even suggest protecting himself from him, but he tries not to let his annoyance shine through in his actions.

Jason turns back around and presses a chaste kiss to James’ temple, leaning up on his tippy toes. “Let’s go to bed.”

Despite his annoyance, James’ mood is softened slightly by Jason’s kiss, which has him nodding.

He grabs Jason’s hand, pulling him towards the bed, lying back down on it, keeping a hold of Jason’s hand, not wanting to let go or be far from him.

As sleep claims Jason, James traces the pattern on the bandages around Jason’s torso. Unfortunately for him, no tearing up Jason’s back for a while. And he’d have to see bandages instead of a beautifully scarred up back.

James lets out a small frustrated sigh at the bandages, his hand tracing over them, and his mind running rampant. The thought of Jason protecting himself from him is something he doesn’t like, and it makes his mind run wild with annoyance. He’ll have to talk to Jason about this.

James wraps his arms around Jason, hugging him close to the point it might’ve been too tight, his head buried in Jason’s messy curls.

The thought that he won’t be able to make Jason’s back worse for a while has him a bit upset, he wants to mark Jason up, make him his completely again, but he can’t.

That’ll change, he promises himself that. He will get Jason to stop doing that, he’ll convince him to stop protecting himself from him.

He’ll make sure of it.

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

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n3wstxd · 1 month ago

Text

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍

warnings: psychological torment, non-consensual biting (at first), slight blood kink, begging, anal fingering, rimming, anal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, graveyard sex, sex on top of a literal grave but it’s okay cus it’s Kirk’s

Happy Halloween! I tried my hand at writing about (Jason) being scared, and there are first times for everything :)) anyways enjoy! (What I mean by crypt btw)

word count: 7.4K words (you were warned)

nsfw under the cut :)

Halloween. Kirk’s favourite holiday, where he could go out and mingle at parties without having to obscure his vampirism. He was starving, aching for fresh meat to sink his fangs into. The party he attended this year was wonderful—so many lovely choices of men and women, all dressed to the nines.

He scans the room, red eyes settling on the forms of Lars and James, dressed as a mummy and a shitty werewolf respectively. His friends spot him too and beckon him over.

“Settling on the vampire look again?” Teases Lars.

Kirk rolls his eyes, adjusting his hair to stay out of his face.

“And you’re a goddamn Mummy,” he retorts, shaking his head. “You two look like shitty actors from one cheap horror movie.”

Lars laughs and pats Kirk’s shoulder.

“At least we try something new,” he says cheerfully. “You wear the same thing every year and you’re only in disguise because you don’t want people to know you’re a blood-sucking monster.”

“And your costume is what exactly?” Kirk shoots back, not amused. “You look like a dollar-store bandage come to life. Not very scary.”

James snickered and leaned against the wall.

“You both look ridiculous, alright? But it’s a good night for hunting,” he says with a grin, a sly look on his face. “A lot of people here look very…tasty.”

Kirk smirks and looks around the gathering, taking note of some of the more delectable candidates. His gaze lands on a beautiful young man, standing by himself and looking rather lost.

“Yeah…I guess there are a few options,” he muses, licking his lips absently. “I might go over and introduce myself to the pretty one over there.” James whines. “I was gonna go for him.”

Kirk snorts and shakes his head.

“You? You wouldn’t know what to do with him. He looks like the kind of man who’s sweet, polite, innocent. You’d scare him away with one dumb sentence, you big brute.”

James laughs at that. “And you’re going to be the charming prince swooping in to save the poor, innocent damsel?” Kirk rolls his eyes and grins arrogantly. “Of course. I’m far too charismatic to drive him away. I’ll charm the pants right off him.”

James snickers and pats his shoulder. “Well, alright. He’s all yours then. Try not to drain him fully when you finally sink your fangs into his pretty neck.”

Kirk rolls his eyes and straightens his getup, adjusting the velvet cape around his shoulders so it drapes well down his back. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back in a bit. Or not.”

Kirk eyes the man—dressed as an angel, a reflection of the characteristic innocence of the holy beings in those baby blue eyes. He can’t hold himself back—he has to have him.

As he approaches, it’s like the angel senses his presence immediately, those stunning blues locking with his dark ruby eyes. A faint blush rises on the angel’s cheeks, lips curving faintly into a shy smile.

Kirk can’t help but notice how he’s almost trembling faintly in his pristine white outfit. He’s like a porcelain doll, so delicate, so sweet, so innocent.

Perfect prey.

His figure is sleek and lean, akin to a dancer, and he moves with a certain grace that has the vampire captivated. He’s only slightly taller than Kirk, and he’s got tufts of auburn curls messily resting on his shoulders, flowing down his back. Kinky bangs frame his captivating eyes, and the fake halo that sits amongst his curls is a shiny white.

He’s like walking, talking temptation, and Kirk can’t stop staring. He’s so damn beautiful, his scent so very appetizing. He feels the hunger in his chest burning, but he controls it and smiles charmingly instead.

“Hi there,” he greets the boy, his eyes wandering over the tight, silk material of his white robe, two small slits on either side of his legs for more leeway. His top is more snug, a sleeveless silk top with a banded collar and some little gold accessories to match.

The whole costume looks expensive, or took a lot of time to make at the very least. “Hi.” The man responds, friendliness clear through his toothy grin, a beer in hand.

Kirk can’t help but stare for a beat longer, taking in the pretty smile, the beautiful gleam of those eyes…and the delicate, elegant long lines of his neck.

So slender, so inviting.

Almost as if sensing the thought, the angel tucks his chin down, hiding his neck ever so slightly, as though shy. It’s an utterly charming gesture that only serves to fan the flames of Kirk’s desire. He swallows, snapping himself out of his thoughts and grins.

“So, enjoying the party?”

“It’s nice…though I’m looking for my friend. He’s supposed to be here.”Kirk tilts his head to one side. “Is that so?” He asks, feigning mild interest.

“What’s his costume?”

“He’s a ghost.”

“A ghost, huh?”

Kirk’s eyes twinkle a bit with a hint of mischief. “And where exactly is this friend of yours? Off haunting the punch table or something?”

“Beats me.”

The man’s phone dings, and Kirk can’t help but watch how his bangs frame his face when he cants his head.

“Oh. My friend couldn’t make it. Great, now I’m stuck here alone.” He sounds less than thrilled, probably after having to go to such lengths to make his costume.

“What a waste of a night.”

When the beautiful creature pouts, Kirk’s mouth dries up instantly. Christ, he’s adorable. “Hey, there’s no need to look so disappointed…” He says with a coy tone of voice, taking a few steps closer to the angel.

“I could take you out somewhere else…” He offers tentatively. Jason’s interest piques, and he tilts his head to the side. “Like where?”

Kirk grins and takes one more step, their chests almost flush together. “The night is still young,” he purrs. “There’s so many more exciting places to go to before closing time…unless you’d rather stay at this boring party, of course.”

Jason thinks for a moment, considering his options. And his cerulean eyes lock with crimson ones, his resolve determined.

“Where to?”

Kirk can’t help the shiver of excitement that runs down his spine. He grins, fangs gleaming in the faint light. This beautiful, sweet, gullible man was willingly walking into the jaws of a beast—a predator.

“Follow me,” he says, almost huskily. “I know a spot.”

Jason’s holding onto Kirk’s arm as they creep through the graveyard. Kirk’s all too familiar with the place, but Jason’s like a scared little mouse.

“Are you scared?”

Kirk purrs, a smug note audible in his tone. He can hear the rapid beating of Jason’s heart, the way his breath comes quick and shallow with nerves as they walk through the dark, silent graveyard.

“A little…” He gulps, glancing around in case anything were to jump out at them. Angels were supposed to be beacons of fearlessness, and here Jason was, shaking like a leaf, clinging to Kirk like his life depended on it.

Kirk bites his lip, holding back a chuckle. The angel was absolutely adorable when he was nervous like this. It made him seem so small and fragile, almost like a little puppy.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he assures, resting a hand on Jason’s lower back and rubbing it in a comforting gesture. “You’re safe with me.”

Jason glances down in surprise when he steps on a twig, his halo falling to the ground. He lets go of the ravenette’s arm to pick it up, and when he stands back up after readjusting its position on his head, he finds himself alone.

He glanced around once, twice, thrice, and Kirk has vanished. Fear spikes through his heart like thorns, and his big doe eyes are wide in fear.

“Kirk?” He asks, voice so shaky, fear rolling off him in waves.

Jason’s all alone in this creepy graveyard in the middle of god knows where, it’s coming close to midnight, and he swears he’s not alone.

Fear gripes his heart like a vice, panic settling in as he swerves left and right to try and catch a glimpse of the man. He takes a few steps forward, oh-so paranoid, watching the tombstones and the shrubbery and the forest nearby. He might just believe in the supernatural now.

“Kirk!?”

Jason calls again, panic rising. He can feel himself trembling from fear, the silence around him suddenly deafening. “Where are you?”

He scans the area around him, looking for clues of Kirk’s whereabouts. His heart is beating out of his chest, his muscles taut with tension as he takes a few halting steps forward, almost afraid of what he might stumble upon.

Nothing.

Not a sound, not a glimpse of that dark hair or sharp smile, or even the flicker of that velvet cape. He’s well and truly alone now, a sitting duck in the middle of this dark and seemingly haunted place.

“Kirk..?”

He says weakly, no conviction left in his voice. His breaths come in short puffs, vision going slightly hazy from fright.

He glances to his right at the sound of a twig snapping, whipping his head around and finding….nothing. Not a single soul.

“Who’s there…?”

Jason asks shakily, looking around in a frenzy for the source of the sound. His heart is beating madly out of his chest, panic clawing his throat with icy fingers.

The fright is swallowing him whole, and he can hear another twig snap closer to him, only a few feet behind him. He spins around—nothing. So he does the only thing he knows how to do.

Run.

He takes off running with sheer panic, heart in his throat. He can’t bring himself to look back, can’t hear anything over the loud beating of his own heart and the rush of adrenaline. His mind is empty, focused only on the single goal of getting away from whoever or whatever is behind him.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, can’t see clearly in front of him, and stumbles over the uneven ground numerous times, twigs and leaves grasping at his ankles in his hurry. Adrenaline is roaring in his ears, fear driving his legs and fuelling his panic.

There’s a faint voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to slow down before he falls and breaks his ankle—but it’s soon drowned out by the fear of being hunted or chased down.

His breaths are harsh and ragged, lungs screaming and muscles aching with the effort to run, panic driving him on.

He can hear footsteps behind him, heavy and loud and gaining on him fast. He can’t even see what’s after him now—his vision swimming and chest clenching from fright.

He’s in hysterics, tears muddling his vision and his breathing is erratic—his lungs burn and so do his calves, but he keeps on running. The graveyard is a maze, and he can’t seem to find the exit.

And then he falls.

His foot tangles up with a root sticking out of the ground, and he’s sent careening to the grass. Pain blooms in his ankle at the impact, sharp and sudden, and he can’t supress a cry of pain. He tries to scrabble and crawl away as he hears those footsteps coming close—almost upon him.

He drags himself behind a large oak tree and muffled his breathing. The footsteps stop, and they sound confused…where did he go?

The footsteps finally fade into the night after moving around a little more, and Jason breathed the tiniest sigh of relief. He peeks out from behind the tree to catch a glimpse of whatever had been chasing him.

Still, nothing.

Just when he thinks he’s safe, there’s an overwhelming aura emanating from behind him. His breath catches in his throat, and he’s far too scared to even turn around. He’s cornered like a dog, and he musters the courage to look behind him.

But before he can do so, a strong hand wraps around his shoulders, pulling him back against someone’s chest. Jason’s wracked with sobs. He thinks it’s all over for him, this is how he’ll die.

“Found you.”

Kirk does feel a pang of guilt at the sight of Jason like this—scared and crying and looking at him like he’s the devil himself. But he’s starved and he’s owed a meal, but not before playing with his food a little.

Of course, this is all part of his game. He needs to get the boy scared, get his blood pumping, and draw out that sweet fear pheromone. God, he's even more beautiful when he's so utterly petrified. Still, he has to admit to himself there’s something about the angelic boy’s frazzled and hysteric state that twists something in his chest slightly. God, he's even more beautiful when he's so utterly petrified.

Jason goes completely still when he feels the arm around him, tears streaming down his face as terror seeps through his very core. He’s trembling like a leaf even as he tries to keep quiet, scared of what will happen next.

He swallows back a sob, trying to get his breathing under control. “Please…please don’t hurt me…” He whispers out brokenly, looking up at Kirk desperately, begging for his life.

And he looks so, so beautiful in the dim light of the night, tears marring his soft features and eyes wide like a doe’s.

Kirk almost feels bad for having to scare him so badly, but he's also starving, and the fear makes his blood pump faster and his sweet scent even more potent. It makes his fangs ache in his jaws, and it's taking all his willpower not to sink them deep into that slender, smooth neck.

His eyes gleam sadistically, leaning down so close that his lips brush over the shell of Jason’s ear. Jason’s chest heaves, his eyes sparkling under the moonlight. His gasps stutters and his breath shudders.

Jason’s body is rigid, frozen in fear as he feels the vampire breathing in his scent, that hand on his neck doing little to quell the panic that’s coursing through him. His lips are trembling, and a wave of dread courses through him. This is it. This is the end.

“Please, please don’t hurt me…” He whispers pleadingly, a new wave of tears leaking from his eyes.

Kirk feels a pang of guilt again, but it’s quickly overridden by hunger and need. He grins and runs the tip of his nose over the pale, slender column of Jason’s neck, breathing him in greedily. He can feel the rapid beat of his pulse as he nuzzles over the skin on his neck, just shy of touching the sensitive skin with his mouth.

He can feel the fear coming off Jason in waves, the scent of it strong enough to leave him heady and almost drunk.

Jason’s breaths are coming in short, sharp gasps, every exhale a small whimper of fear. He can feel the press of that mouth on his skin, feel the hot wet puff of breath tickling his collarbones, and he can’t stop the tears from streaming down his face.

“I-I’ll do anything…please—whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me. Please.” He whimpers out, tears running freely down his face. It’s so pathetically arousing to Kirk.

Kirk feels it as a shiver runs through Jason’s entire body with that utterance, and it causes a jolt of excitement and arousal through him, too. The sheer begging and pleading would’ve been enough to get him all hot and bothered alone, but the fear pheromone emanating from those words, mixed with the tears on that smooth, porcelain face, was like an electric shock to his body.

He groans softly, unable to hold back the sound.

Jason can hear the groaned out sound from the vampire as well as feel his breath on his neck, his entire body trembling in fear, pulse racing. He closes his eyes, almost praying to whatever god is out there that he’ll get out of this alive somehow.

He can’t stop the tremors, can’t stop the tears, and he can’t help the pitiful whimpers that escape him as he continues to cry. He knows he looks a mess right now—terrified, pathetic, hysterical…

It’s taking all of Kirk’s restraint to hold himself back. The tears, the smell, the whimpers—he’s holding back the animalistic instincts within himself in a battle of restraint. He’s not going to pounce on the beautiful boy here and now—he’s going to drag this out a bit more.

He can’t help the way he nuzzles his face into the crook of Jason’s neck, letting out a shaky breath at how close he is to tasting this angelic creature. As much as he’d like to take him right there and then, it would be more enjoyable if Jason could derive pleasure from this too.

Jason can feel everything—the press of that mouth on his neck, the cool breath of the vampire on his heated skin, the heat from that body pressed flush against his back. And then, suddenly, he feels a sensation that makes his brain come to a screeching halt.

He can feel the vampire’s tongue licking a slow stripe over his neck. He freezes instantly, heart in his throat, body trembling.

Jason’s reaction to that one gesture is the final nail in the coffin.

Kirk’s restraint snaps, the desire and hunger becoming too strong to hold back. His breathing huffs out in ragged gasps, and he pushes the boy’s head to the side with his nose, baring that lovely neck even more.

He lets his lips finally press down over the soft, sensitive skin of his neck, mouthing over it eagerly.

Jason groans, and Kirk’s free hand slides down his body, sensing his now growing arousal, and holding onto his hip with a firm grip.

Meanwhile, the angel is having a terrible time with his unwarranted arousal, how could he be getting hard when there’s someone, something, that could kill him any time?

That faint sound of pleasure from Jason sends a jolt of heat through Kirk’s body. So, the boy does want this. Interesting. He grins against the crook of his neck at the Kirk is absolutely addicted to the sounds the boy makes.

He can’t stop himself from touching as much of that lovely skin as possible, his touches gentle as his fingers slide up the inside of Jason’s thigh.

Kirk nips at the angel’s ear, licking softly at the skin. He can also feel his own arousal growng, pressed against the red-head’s thigh as he continues to lick and mouth at Jason’s neck. He can’t stop the soft guttural growl that comes from the back of his throat.

Jason can feel it too, digging into his leg so shamelessly. And as much as he wishes he wasn’t, his briefs started feeling tighter. This was the worst—getting hard by someone you don’t even know, in a situation that meant life or death.

He can both feel and hear the whimper that leaves Jason’s lips as he realises the boy’s growing arousal as well, and it makes his grin grow even wider. The whimper also causes him to give a hard press of his hips against the thigh, the friction making him shiver a little.

His tongue continues to lap and lick along the sensitive skin of his neck, before he nips the skin gently, fangs just barely scraping over the surface of it.

By now, Jason’s well aware the person behind him has some sort of fangs, so it’s some sort of unnatural humanoid creature that’s marking up his neck like a lover.

Jason’s neck is absolutely bruised from the vampire’s lips and teeth, marked so pretty that there’s no doubt of what caused it. Kirk continues to mouths along his neck, moving up and biting at the skin just below the ear. The hand on the angel’s hip slides down further, the other still gripping firmly at his throat.

“You taste so good, pretty boy…”

Kirk speaks against the skin of his neck, lips moving back and forth over the flesh. His tongue occasionally laps over the surface to gather more of that sweet taste. He loves those whimpers and soft gasps the boy’s letting out and the way he’s pushing back against him ever so slightly.

His tongue and lips slowly move up towards the boy’s ear and he grins.

“Just wait till I taste you elsewhere….”

A jolt of arousal runs up Jason’s spine, his cheeks flushing. Kirk thinks it’s divine intervention that Jason doesn’t recognise his voice, but then again, they’d only met that night.

Despite the unfamiliarity, the reactions he’s getting from the angel is making it more fun by the second. The flushes across his face that he can’t tell apart from the fear, those delicious whimpers and gasps, and the hardening of his arousal against his own body.

He decides he wants more of these reactions, so that’s where he’s going next.

His hand on the boy’s neck slides down, fingers skimming along the buttons of his shirt and popping them open slowly, down until his sternum.

Jason shivers—this predicament he’s in is surprising, but he only wished that it wasn’t some creature that wished to fuck him.

More and more of the angel’s skin is revealed as Kirk pushes the fabric of the shirt to the side, exposing those lovely collarbones, those soft and smooth shoulders, the skin that he could just devour.

His lips and tongue are all over that skin now, leaving behind a trail of bruising kisses and faint marks of his teeth, moving and sucking up to the boy’s ear.

“You’re gorgeous…” He murmurs hotly, breath tickling the skin of the boy’s ear. He spots his own single crypt nearby—black delight violas pooling around the base. His plan is simple: to have Jason on top of his own coffin, on the sleek greyed marble, untarnished through the years.

He slowly maneuvers Jason back towards his own crypt, mouth continuing to bruise up the skin beneath his lips, leaving behind a pretty trail of marks that’s almost hypnotising to himself.

His nose nudges the boy’s head to the side, exposing the crook of his neck, and Kirk can’t help it. He needs to taste this sweet skin once again, needs to taste the blood pumping right underneath the surface.

That neck is exposed so willingly now, and Kirk runs his lips and tongue right over it again.

Jason is flipped around to face him—and the angel expects to see some horrible, ugly creature of the night, but is met by a familiar face buried in his neck…

“Kirk?”

Kirk lifts his head from Jason’s neck at that sound. He’s surprised that the boy hadn’t recognised him already.

“You…I thought you…” He’s speechless. He doesn’t know what to say. Was he supposed to be mad? That Kirk had left him and chased him around and held him hostage like it was some funny little game? Or was he supposed to be even more aroused, that the pretty Californian man had hunted him down like he was some sort of rabbit and marked him up like he owned him?

Kirk can see and hear the conflicting thoughts running through that pretty head. He can smell the confusion in the pheromones that are still being released from his body—arousal, confusion, a little bit of hurt.

He grins at the sight, a mix of amusement and hunger, feeling a dark thrill at the way Jason looks right now beneath him. He can’t decide if it’s adorable or arousing that the boy is so confused, so conflicted.

He’s holding Jason prisoner, pinning his slender body against the thick marbled gravestone of his very own resting place…

Kirk presses forward some more. He’s leaning forward, keeping that body pinned against the marble, watching the way Jason looks back up at him with wide eyes, full lips parted.

“You look so beautiful like this….” He murmurs lowly, eyes running all over the slender figure, taking in every little bit of skin that’s exposed and every little mark he’s left.

Now, Jason’s sat on the crypt, Kirk standing as he mouths desperately at his neck, tracing his lifeline with his tongue. Jason’s robes are hiked up for his legs to have more room to move, pooling around the marble like a veil.

Despite all his questions and all, Jason can’t help but let Kirk do what he wants, clutching his costume as he groans softly, eyes screwed shut. Kirk’s free hand moves lower, under Jason’s robes to trace his thigh.

Jason’s skin is so smooth under his fingers that it has him shivering, and when that lovely moan comes out, he almost buckles at the knees. He’s never heard anything so sweet. He continues to run his tongue and lips along the boy’s neck, sucking harshly at the skin occasionally to leave behind marks of his own. His other hand is on his pale thigh, running up and down that bare skin.

Jason’s skin is addictive to the touch. It’s so soft and smooth, like supple porcelain, and Kirk absolutely craves more of it, just to explore, to devour, to claim.

He nips at that delicious neck again, sucking at the skin roughly, and he can feel the moan of pleasure that vibrates through Jason’s body. His teeth graze over the bruised skin, just a hint of fangs in the gesture.

Then, as quick as lightning, he sinks his teeth into Jason’s jugular, and those ice blue eyes fly open. A pained cry escapes his lips, and his neck throbs. He claws at Kirk’s clothes, the sharp pain almost numbing.

When the blood hits his tongue, it’s absolutely heavenly. It’s a rush of pleasure and ecstasy and sweetness that floods through his veins, leaving him euphoric. He could get very used to how this boy tastes, how he feels and sounds and smells. He grips Jason’s thighs, keeping them open and spread to fit him between, taking more and more of the blood from his neck.

“Stop—what the hell-!” Jason tries to pull Kirk off, eyes wide in fear and betrayal.

There is no stopping now. Jason can only watch as Kirk continues to drink and feed from his neck. But he can sense the panic and the fear and betrayal rising in Jason, and a small part of him does feel guilty for not telling the boy the truth, for leaving him in the dark like this.

So he pulls back reluctantly, licking over the wound he’s made.

Jason’s staring at him like he’s a serial killer drenched in gore, and he feels the puncture wounds in his neck with horror.

“You—”

The look in Jason’s eyes makes something in Kirk twinge. Those beautiful pools of blue staring at him like he’s some kind of monster.

He is a monster, isn’t he?

He stares back, watching those eyes widen even more at the dark stains of red on his lips and the fangs that are visible.

His breath shudders, and Jason curses himself for being so naive—who goes to a graveyard with a person they’d only met that night?

“You’re a vampire!”

He can see the horror, the fear, and the realization in Jason’s eyes. It makes some part of him cringe, knowing this is not how he would have wanted the night to end. But there’s no denying the truth anymore, so he nods, a soft exhale escaping him.

“…I am.” He replies quietly. Of course he is.

He’s still standing between Jason’s legs, hands resting on the tops of his thighs, pinning him to the smooth, grey, polished surface of his resting place.

“You bit me!”

It’s a simple statement. He did bite him.

His lips are still tinged a deep red from the boy’s blood, and there’s small drops of the liquid in the corners of his mouth. He stares back at Jason, guilt settling like ash in his lungs.

“I did.”

“I’m going to die!” He shrieks, and Kirk thinks he’s louder than the banshees that used to be his neighbours.

There it is. The panic and the panic-induced hysterics. Jason’s going to think he’ll die and then go on a rampage.

“No—No! You’re not going to die—I only drank a little…and besides, I’d never kill you.” Kirk reassured, and Jason can tell Kirk’s panicking a little too.

“Relax…I only drank some. You won’t die, I won’t let you. I’d never kill you…I only drink from people every once in a while, usually when I’m hungry, but you, you just taste so damn good…I couldn’t resist. But you’re fine, you’re not dead, you’re going to be okay, I’m telling you..”

He’s rambling by now, desperately trying to keep Jason’s attention and calm him down, hands gripping at his thighs soothingly.

“You’re a vampire—you’ll drink me dry and-and leave my body here!” Jason’s making up scenarios in his mind, which in turn make him even more panicked and scared. And now the boy’s even making up scenarios in his mind. Kirk frowns, knowing it’s only making this situation even more difficult.

So he does the only thing he really wants to do at that moment.

Their mouths clash together, Jason’s own blood filling his mouth, coppery and tangy. Kirk is desperate, their lips moving together in a heated, passionate manner.

Jason stares at him, taken aback, but Kirk’s so tender and gentle that he almost wants to believe him. If Kirk wanted to drain him, he would��ve done so by now, right?

Kirk pulls back, leaving Jason breathless and wide-eyed and confused once again, and he leans his head forward until their foreheads are pressed together, his hands still holding softly onto the boy’s shoulders.

He can’t help the desperate plea that leaves his lips. “Please…trust me. I won’t kill you, or drain you, or anything of the sort. I swear. All I did was drink a few drops….”

Jason hesitates. He seems so genuine, and those wine red eyes look up at him pleadingly, like he was an innocent creature that just wanted a meal. Kirk can see the hesitance in Jason’s eyes, but at least there’s something other than fear in them. He gently touches the underside of the boy’s jaw, tilting his head to the side so more of that lovely neck is exposed to him once again.

“I swear, I won’t kill you.” He repeats in that same pleading voice, hands gripping slightly tighter at his shoulders. He doesn’t want to accidentally bruise those beautiful shoulders. “I’d rather do something else to you, anyway..”

Heat floods Jason’s cheeks at the admission, and without prompt, Kirk leans in close, a hand sneaking up Jason’s thigh, creeping past his briefs. Cold hands cup Jason’s growing erection, a shudder running up the angel’s spine, a soft gasp escaping his lips.

Having a literal vampire fondle him shouldn’t make him this aroused, but somehow it does. He’s not quite sure if it’s the fact that Kirk could kill him any second if he wanted to, or that he chooses not to, that has him so turned on.

Kirk is absolutely addicted to the sounds Jason makes. He nips at the boy’s ear, licking softly at the skin before speaking in a soft and pleading voice.

“I want you so bad, baby…” His voice is low, breathing in Jason’s scent and licking up the blood trickling out from his wound.

Kirk’s hand slides under Jason’s underwear to stroke softly at his hardened cock, marveling at how big it is. Jason stifles a moan, holding onto the lapels of Kirk’s cloak. He gazed at the human adoringly, like he was a prized painting in an art gallery.

He frees Jason’s shaft from its confines, shoving his robes up to gather around his hips. The vampire spat into his hand and pumped the angel’s cock with fervour, drawing a sigh from Jason. Precome pearls at his tip, leaking down the underside of his engorged dick, further helping Kirk’s hand slide up and down even faster.

“Fuck—like that…please..” He murmurs, resting his forehead on Kirk’s shoulder, fingers digging into his cloak. Kirk’s hand moves quick, Jason’s mind spins in pleasure from the pace, praises spilling from his lips like holy words.

Leaning onto Kirk as his toes curl, Jason whimpers incessantly, quivering in the ravenette’s hand. He can feel himself drawing close, balls growing tight as his climax builds.

He’s so, so close, and just as he’s about to hit his release, Kirk pulls away with a sly grin, leaving him high and dry.

“Wait—please..don’t stop..!” Jason whines into Kirk’s clothes, lifting his head up to meet him. His eyes are glassed over and hazy with pleasure, need welling in his powder-blue orbs. Kirk almost wants to give in, to give Jason exactly what he needs, but he restrains himself.

Instead, he pushes Jason onto his back on the crypt, his legs hanging over the edge. He kneels between his legs and tosses Jason’s briefs to the side mindlessly, focusing on the haven presented to him.

Teasingly biting and sucking and marking up Jason’s inner thighs, Kirk lets his fangs scrape his thighs, goosebumps trailing up his skin. To his surprise, Jason mutters something so soft, he can barely hear it.

“Speak up, darlin’, I can’t hear you.”

“Bite me again. Please.”

He whispered it in such a needy tone, Kirk’s length jumped in his pants, straining against their confines, begging to be free and to have at Jason. He nearly gives in to Jason’s request, yearning to sink his jaws into his lovely pale flesh.

But he had self-restraint, even in a time like this, and instead nibbles on his skin, leaving little indents of his teeth. That satisfies Jason enough, whining softly, begging for more stimulation.

Eager to get to work to pleasuring Jason, he grips pale hips and lifts Jason’s pretty little pink pucker to mouth level, resting the crook of his knees on his shoulders. He’s buried between two muscular thighs which are trembling with anticipation, dipping his tongue into that tight wet heat, licking and sucking.

Jason grunts, Kirk’s tongue teasing around the rim, tracing the it with long, flat licks that has his cock leaking down his front. He stares up at the black sky and the stars, and he’s sure if God’s real he’d be looking back down at him disappointedly. Dressed as an angel, getting his ass eaten by a bloodsucking supernatural creature. How shameless he was, in a graveyard, a resting place for the deceased, no less.

And yet, the thrill of it all is intoxicating, getting chased around, bitten and fucking a super hot vampire. Kirk’s tongue dips deep into his hole, and it’s unnaturally long, prodding against a rubbery bump that has him crying out unintentionally.

“Shit—oh god..” He breathes, his leg muscles pulling taut as he stiffens in pleasure, thighs clamping around Kirk’s head. He merely hums between Jason’s legs, eating him out like a man starved.

If this was how he’d die, Jason wouldn’t really mind it.

The pressure in his belly builds up again, his cock pulsing. Kirk takes notice and somehow manages to speed up his movements, bringing Jason over the edge far sooner than he’d expected.

Come spurts out of Jason’s throbbing cockhead, dribbling down his chest and dirtying his lovely silks. A skilled hand wraps around his sensitive shaft, milking him while working his fluttering hole. Jason squirms in oversensitivity, spasming around Kirk’s tongue. Cold hands knead the flesh of his ass soothingly, as if trying to ground him.

When every last drop is squeezed from the human, Kirk releases him and rests him back on the smooth marble. Jason’s chest heaves, body still coming down from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Kirk climbs onto the sleek crypt, admiring the sight before him. He’s a little distracted for a moment. Jason’s shirt is in disarray, sliding off his shoulders, the first three buttons of the shirt ripped open to expose miles of creamy skin. The pale flesh is littered with a trail of marks from his own lips, bruised and tender looking. His hair is in disarray, and those big doe eyes are staring up at him wide with satisfaction.

He’s absolutely mouthwatering like this.

And soon he’ll have his fill of the man, settling between those pliantly spread legs again. He drags a finger through the puddle of cum on Jason’s abdomen, tracing around his hole. Their eyes meet again, and Kirk’s carry a silent question, to which Jason responds with a bite of his lower lip.

Jason jolts as a long finger slides into his warm walls. It’s been a while since he’d fucked anyone, and it’s obvious to Kirk from how he felt like a vacuum around his finger. Kirk moved to quickly push into Jason’s tight hole, hearing him whine loudly and rock back onto his fingers.

Another finger is slipped in, pumping in and out of Jason, fingers curling and uncurling. His fingers search for Jason’s prostate again, feeling around and spreading his fingers.

“Another.” Jason croaks out, and Kirk complies, slipping another finger past that tight ring of muscle. He sighs, letting Kirk do the work as his dick worked to half-hardness again, jolting to a near-full erection when Kirk presses down on his g-spot.

“There?” Kirk asks simply, working his fingers over that spot in a repetitive poking motion. “Right there…” Jason breathes, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure overtakes him.

Once deemed prepared enough, Kirk pulls out his aching shaft and spits in his hand, gobs of salvia mixed with the remnants of Jason’s blood. He jerks himself off a few times, slicking himself up all while making eye contact with Jason.

Jason catches sight of Kirk’s beautifully hung length; the auburnette’s form tremors in anticipation, eager to be stuffed full like it was thanksgiving all over again. “C’mon…don’t make me wait..” He whines, arousal bleeding out into his voice.

Kirk merely chuckles and aligns himself with Jason, giving one last glance of confirmation.

“Please.”

And that was all Kirk needed before he’s pushing the tip of his flush cock into Jason, ramming his whole dick into him without warning. Jason cries out at the sudden intrusion, his legs clamping around Kirk’s hips as if to still himself.

Kirk is kind enough to let him adjust to his size, and Jason flutters around him to try and accommodate. His cold, clawed hands settle on the warm and soft flesh of Jason’s hips, which are narrow with his ilium jutting out slightly. Kirk admires how sleek the mortal’s figure is, build akin to a dancer’s, and how his crimson blood has dried around those pretty puncture wounds.

Meanwhile, Jason breathes deep. Kirk is a lot to take, and while he prides himself on being more of a size queen, Kirk’s more girthy than his previous hookups. Soon enough, he’s shifting his hips back into Kirk as he seeks more friction.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirk, who gladly starts to fuck in and out of him at a not-so-slow pace. Nonetheless, Jason’s blinded by ecstasy, his loud cries of satisfaction ringing through the graveyard. Kirk pats himself on the shoulder for finding such a secluded spot—there’s no way he’d be able to keep Jason silent if it were closer to town…

Kirk’s cockhead draws back before snapping back into Jason and ramming against his prostate, drawing choked moans from the latter. “Don’t stop—!” He cries, fingertips digging into Kirk’s shoulders. The bite of his grip only serves to get Kirk further more aroused, rutting into his partner with even more vigour.

Jason doesn’t think he’ll last long at this rate, Kirk’s cold hands roaming the exposed expanse of his body, a cheeky hand tweaking one of his nipples, pulling on it just to hear him whimper. The other moves to circle Jason’s engorged tip, spreading his precome around while dipping his thumb into his slit slightly.

Face burning, he holds onto the edges of the crypt for stability as Kirk ruthlessly pounds into him like he’s got something to prove. It’s so good that it sends shivers up his spine.

If something like this happened every year, Halloween would be his favourite holiday. Not even his birthday would beat getting fucked by a super hot vampire on a tomb in the middle of nowhere.

Kirk’s analysing Jason’s every twitch and facial expression, trying to take note of what he liked and didn’t. Sweat beads on his brow and yet his boundless stamina contributes to his lack of tiredness.

On one hand, his stamina was perfect for pleasuring people who took a while to come. On the other, it wasn’t as good for individuals like Jason, who’s now come once already, but is still getting fucked at the same pace.

Overstimulation starts to overtake Jason, his chest heaving as his shaft pathetically spurts any remnants of come left from his orgasm. His hole is still being used like a fucktoy for Kirk’s pleasure, and he just pathetically clenched around him. All he could do is hang on for dear life as Kirk splits him open.

To Jase, Kirk’s not really close to reaching his climax, focused intently on the sensations of Jason around him as he tips his head forward, raven curls hanging forward, wet with sweat.

The pleasure now borders on pain as Kirk continues to tease Jason’s energy-drained body, jerking off his dick with a talented hand. Tears spring to his eyes, and he feels sensitive to any little touches, even as he feels his third climax of the night start to build. He bites his lips, hard, eyes screwing shut.

Jason’s third orgasm hits him hard like a ton of bricks. He whimpers pathetically, squirming in Kirk’s grip as release splatters over his chest like some sort of abstract painting. His chest heaves as he’s now shifting about in Kirk’s grip, trying to find a little relief from the constant assault on his prostate.

Kirk can just about feel his own high coming soon, looking at how messed up Jason was from him certainly brought it much closer. His hands shift to Jason’s hips, bruisingly tight, thrusting into him with reckless abandon, chasing his pleasure down like a hound.

Weakly, Jason’s fourth orgasm comes around the same time Kirk’s does, splattering over his already ruined silks, even reaching his own chin. Kirk throws his head back, shooting his load deep into the warm confines of Jason. The latter is surprised by how much Kirk came in one go, his own dick twitching and going limp against his come-coated chest.

Jason can feel Kirk’s hot spunk leak out of his throughly loosened hole even while he’s still balls deep in him. Christ, he really was ruined, wasn’t he?

“That was amazing.” Kirk pants, lying next to Jason on his crypt. Jason’s dazed and he barely registers Kirk’s words. “Huh? Oh, yeah. It was…the best sex I’d ever had. What a way to spend Halloween.” He murmurs, glancing at Kirk, his body feeling like lead. Kirk scans his form with a soft smile.

“Let’s get you cleaned up…”

“Y’know we still have some time until the sun comes up.” Kirk grins, fangs gleaming as Jason huffs, blowing a piece of hair from his face. “What, will you burn in the sun or something?”

Kirk merely laughs, and Jason wouldn’t mind seeing that everyday. “No, not at all. But I’d rather show you my home.” “Better not be a stupid castle or coffin.”

Kirk rolls his eyes, but what could Jason really expect from a vampire of all things?

“Trust me, it’s a lot nicer than that. Who do you take me for?” “Nosferatu?” Jason offers. Kirk gasps in faux outrage. “Am I that ugly?” He pouts. “Certainly not.” Jason grins up at him, leaning into his cold grasp like it was the warmest place on earth.

“Just take me to your home and bandage me up. And how do you suppose I hide the bite marks?” He hadn’t really thought of that. Neither of them had.

“Say that killer vampire stole your heart.”

“And my blood?”

“Sure.”

“…I can work with that.”

#n3wstxd #metallica #jason newsted #kirk hammett #metallica smut #happy halloweenie #this took forever but it’s done!!!

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n3wstxd · 2 months ago

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊/𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 - 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

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

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

nsfw under the cut :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until.

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

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

“Hey guys—oh my god!”

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

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

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

“Lock the door next time.”

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

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

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

#n3wstxd #metallica #kirk hammett #lars ulrich #metallica smut

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n3wstxd · 2 months ago

Text

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 - 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤

warnings: none! just pure fluff!

i should make a part 2 to this w smut but idk… anyways enjoy!

Dave’s been eyeing Metallica’s new bassist—a cheery, expressive guy that has a smile that could end wars. The guy’s not only got amazing talent on the bass, but he’s got looks that kill, too. In fact, that’s the whole reason why he’d been keeping tabs on the auburnette.

Dave had reached out to a mutual friend, Jacob, asking for Jason’s number under the pretext that he’d forgotten it when Jason “gave it to him” a few days ago. The guy was baited on and easily handed over Jason’s number.

Now the hardest part came.

Calling Jason up.

The phone rings once. Twice. And then he’s sent to voicemail. “Hey, it’s Jason. I’m busy right now, leave a message after the beep!” Jason’s usual upbeat tone evident in the message. After the beep, Dave tapped his finger against the leather sofa, beginning to speak.

“Hey, uhh…it’s Dave Mustaine. Call me back when you’re free. I wanna talk.”

And then he puts down the phone, nervous and standing, pacing the room eagerly as he waits. His plan was simple. Talk, invite Jason out, sugar him up and invite him into his bed. He speculated that Jason was into guys—the way he went starry-eyed when a pretty guy gave him an ounce of attention, even when they’re just fans.

His blue eyes would light up, attentive and fixated. Scanning for details, carefully tucked into the confines of his mind. He’d nod and smile and sign their merch, before he’d be forced to move on to the next fan.

“Jason’s gonna call back,” Dave muttered, a hint of nervous anticipation lacing his tone as he paced back and forth across the room. The leather couch creaked slightly under the weight of his restless pacing, and he ran a hand through his hair, already imagining the possibilities of the upcoming conversation.

“He’s gotta call back. He just has to.”

He paused to glance at the phone sitting innocently on the wall, as if staring at it would somehow summon a call from Jason. But the phone remained silent, taunting him with its lack of sound.

Minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an hour as Dave continued his restless pacing. His heart was fluttering erratically, betraying his anxiety as he repeatedly checked the phone for any sign of a missed call.

"He’s taking his sweet time," Dave muttered, a mixture of impatience and worry coloring his tone.

He resumed his pacing, the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor blending with the faint hum of the air conditioner and adding to the growing tension in the room. Each passing moment seemed to amplify his unease.

A hundred seconds pass by like a hundred seasons, waiting for something, anything, from that pretty little bassist that he’s so enraptured by. And he’s so sure god is real now, because his phone rings, and Jason’s on the other line.

“Hey man, it’s Jason. I’m surprised you called me. You wanted to talk?” Dave’s heart flutters at Jason’s soft tone, not as spunky and energetic as before.

“Hey. Thanks for calling back. Um…I was wondering if you’d like to go to a bar with me and Jacob? Have some drinks and whatever.” That’s a lie—Jacob’s not coming and Dave’ll make sure of it. He squeezes his eyes shut as the call goes silent. He’ll become a monk, he swears, if Jason says yes.

“Uh..yeah, sure. When?” The ginger nearly let out a victory cheer, but he reminds him that Jason’s on the other line.

“10?” He offers, and Jason happily snatches up the bait. “Okay, sounds good! See you then.”

When the line cuts Dave drops the phone and lets out the loudest shout of excitement he’s ever made. 10PM seems too far away, but the reward he’ll get outweighs the hours of wait.

Jason, meanwhile, is happily humming to himself as he works on his bass lines, unaware of Dave’s plan. While he does think Dave’s a pretty guy, very eye-catching, what would he do with a guy like him? He’s far too plain for someone like Dave, they’re opposite ends of the spectrum!

So he shoves his thoughts down and reminds himself it’s just a friendly meeting with a mutual friend and Dave. It’s just drinking with someone you barely know. Easy, right?

Jason finds it’s not so easy when he enters the bar, a knot in his throat as he scans the room for Jacob’s signature blonde mullet. He doesn’t see him, but spots a fiery mane of curls by a booth, and a somewhat familiar face to match.

He saunters over, heart beating a mile a minute as he sits across from Dave. Maybe Jacob was just late. Hopefully he wasn’t left alone with Dave. He always liked to take his time, that man…

Dave can feel his heart stutter in his ribcage as he sees Jason waltz over, his auburn curls bouncing with each step, springy coils so full of life.

“Hey, Dave.” It’s so much more awkward to speak face to face with him than over the phone.

Dave looked up from his drink as Jason approached, a smile spreading across his face as he watched the younger man's curls bouncing with every movement.

"Hey, Jason."

Dave returned the greeting, his fingers drumming anxiously against the tabletop. He could feel the tension in the air thicken between them, making the conversation feel more difficult than it should have been. He took a small sip of his drink, trying to appear casual.

"I'm glad you could come."

“Good to see you. Where’s Jacob?”

Dave's smile faded slightly as Jason inquired about Jacob's whereabouts. He'd been expecting this question, of course. He shifted in his seat, feigning casualness.

"Jacob couldn’t make it tonight," he said, taking another small sip of his drink to buy himself time to think. "He got caught up with some things. But I didn't want to cancel on you so I figured we could hang out anyway."

Jason’s peachy lips form a frown, but it’s gone the next second. “It’s fine. Just don’t have any conversation starters, haha…”

This is so awkward..

Dave chuckled softly at Jason's comment, trying to ease the tension.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes conversations just happen and sometimes..." he trailed off, pausing to run a hand through his hair. "Sometimes they don't."

The sound of chatter and clinking glasses fill the momentary pause, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Dave clears his throat, his eyes scanning over Jason's features, taking in the way the dim light casts shadows across his face and how his hair looks almost luminous.

Dave's fingers fidget with the hem of his shirt as he gathers his thoughts, trying to think of something, anything, to say.

"So...um, how's the new gig with Metallica going?" he finally blurts out, his eyes fixed on the table in front of them. It's a generic question and a boring one at that, but it's the only thing he can think of at the moment.

“It’s good..in certain aspects.” Jason’s silvery blue eyes look down at his hands, and Dave can tell there’s something that’s wrong.

Dave notices the change in Jason's demeanor, sensing that there's something on the younger man's mind. He tilts his head slightly, his expression turning serious.

"What do you mean, in certain aspects?" he asks gently, hoping to encourage Jason to open up even slightly.

“The guys are…not the nicest.” He scratches his nape awkwardly, still unwilling to make eye contact with Dave. Dave knew the Metallica guys were douches, but to someone as nice as Jason?

Dave's eyebrows furrow at Jason's confession. He was aware of Lars and James not being nice to the bassist after Cliff’s passing, but still, hearing that they were treating someone as sweet as Jason badly stirred up a mixture of anger and protectiveness within him.

"They're giving you trouble?" he asked, his tone sharp. He reached forward, gently placing a hand on Jason's wrist in a comforting gesture.

Jason’s heart jumps, but his face remains passive. He’s sure his pale cheeks are reddening, and for the first time since he sat down, they lock eyes. Dave’s hazel eyes are deep and inviting, and he just wants to fall into their warmth forever.

“It’s nothing bad. Just some pranks, trashing my hotel room and whatever.”

Dave's gaze softened as he met Jason's eyes, noticing the way the younger man's cheeks were flushed. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction at the small victory.

"Pranks? That sounds like them," Dave muttered, a hint of disdain in his tone. He gently squeezed Jason's wrist, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against the man’s skin.

"You shouldn’t have to deal with that bullshit. It's not right."

He relishes as Jason flushed further, his lips pouty in a frozen quiver, and he’s sure Jason interested in him. Otherwise, he’d have pulled his hand away, right?

Dave notices the way Jason's lips pout, his expression almost vulnerable, and it only amplifies his earlier determination to get the man in his bed. He leans forward, his hand on Jason's wrist shifting to a more intimate position, loosely gripping the man’s hand instead.

"Jason...I know this might sound cheesy, but...you deserve better than the bullshit they're putting you through. You're good. Too good to be treated like crap like that."

Jason laughs nervously, keeping his hand under Dave’s warm palm. His cheeks get redder and redder, and the ginger can’t help but watch how pretty he looks, even when all flustered. “It’s not a big deal—”

Dave cuts him off gently, his eyes fixed intently on the man's face. The sight of a flustered Jason is captivating, and Dave finds himself wishing he could make him even more red.

"Yes, it is. They shouldn’t be treating you like that. It's unacceptable." He leans even further forward, his free hand reaching up to brush stray curls away from Jason's face, his touch soft and gentle.

The hitch in Jason’s breath is audible and the bassist is sure Dave isn’t doing this out of friendliness. No friend would tuck hair behind his ear with such genuine affection. No way.

Dave is fully aware that his affection is beyond the realm of simple friendship. He studies Jason's reaction, noticing the hitch in the younger man's breath and the way he swallows hard. It fuels his determination to get the bassist alone.

He continues to lightly caress Jason’s curls, the soft strands of hair slipping through his fingers like silk. His thumb then moves to brush against Jason's cheek, a feather-like touch, barely there but deliberate and intimate.

Jason’s hypnotised by Dave, everything in the background fading out like it was some cheesy romance movie. But he swears there’s a spark between them because Dave’s eyes have such a genuine look of affection.

Dave is fully immersed in the moment as well. Every little reaction of Jason's is like a drug, fueling his growing sense of infatuation with the bassist. The dim lights of the bar cast a romantic glow over them both, as if the outside world doesn’t exist anymore.

"You're beautiful," Dave mutters as his thumb traces over Jason's lower lip, watching the way the man's lashes flutter in response.

“Thanks.” The auburnette says breathily, his face a tomato.

Dave can’t help but smile as he watches Jason’s face flush an even deeper shade of scarlet. The sight is both adorable and seductive, and Dave finds himself wanting to see how flustered he can make him.

He doesn’t remove his hand from the man’s face, instead continuing to caress his skin gently. “You don’t hear that enough, do you?” he asks, his voice a low murmur.

He laughs, eyes crinkling as his signature smile spreads across his lips. His curls bounce as he tilts his head “Not as much as I’d like to.”

Dave's heart flutters at the sound of Jason's laughter and the sight of his smile. He can't help but be enamored with the way the man's locks move with his movement, adding to his unassuming boyish charm.

"That's a crime in my opinion." Dave replies, his tone a mix of playful and serious. "Such a pretty thing like you should be showered in compliments every day." His thumb drifts from Jason's cheek to lightly brush over his lip again, the action subtle and sensual.

“I wouldn’t mind if they came from you.” The bassist teases, emboldened by their mutual attraction.

The corner of Dave’s lips twitch as he hears Jason's words, the man's confident response pleasantly surprising him. He didn’t expect such a straightforward answer, but he’s certainly enjoying it.

"Oh yeah?” he purrs, leaning in slightly. His hazel eyes are fixed on Jason’s face, watching his every move. His hand moves down to the man’s neck, his thumb grazing over the sensitive skin there. "You’d let me shower you with compliments, pretty boy? You know, you should let me take you home instead."

“I think both would suffice..” He offers, and Jason feels like a teenager all over again, falling in love with this handsome ginger who’s somehow the first person to call him pretty.

A sly smile graces Dave’s lips at Jason’s words, the ginger’s confidence only increasing further. He’s enjoying this newfound flirtation, and the way Jason’s responding is exactly what he’d hoped for.

“Now, look at you, being all cheeky.” he mutters, his hand moving from the man’s neck to ghost over his shoulder, the skin there so warm and so inviting. “I like that.”

He leans in even closer, his voice low and sultry. “You’d let me take you to my place then?”

“If you insist.”

A sly smile plays on Dave’s lips as Jason agrees, the hint of submission in his voice only serving to arouse Dave further. He moves his free hand to rest on the man’s thigh, his fingers lightly gripping the denim-covered muscle, giving a light squeeze.

“Let’s get out of here yeah?” He suggests, his gaze not leaving Jason’s flushed face.

“My place isn’t far from here.”

#n3wstxd #jason newsted #dave mustaine #metallica #megadeth

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n3wstxd · 2 months ago

Note

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

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄/𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 - 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐔𝐩

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

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

nsfw under the cut :)

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t have a problem, Dave.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talk about my man again. Do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reached forward and roughly pinched his nipples, hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#n3wstxd #dave mustaine #lars ulrich

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n3wstxd · 2 months ago

Text

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐄𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

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

nsfw under the cut :)

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

He lives alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take that stupid thing off.”

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

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

“Shit—I didn’t know you-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

James hesitated. “Any way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s it…fuuuck..”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, I’m gonna—“

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

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

“Well,” Dave pants, catching his breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please—oh, fuck, James!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey…Dave?”

“Yeah?”

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

“..I won’t. Not tonight.”

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

25 notes · View notes

n3wstxd · 2 months ago

Text

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐑/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

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

nsfw under the cut :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say it again. Plead.” He drawls.

“Pleasepleaseplease—Junior..!”

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

“One last time. Ask me nicely.”

“Please.”

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

“I’m gonna come!”

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

#n3wstxd #dave mustaine #david ellefson #megadeth #megadeth smut

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