James Hetfield X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

Counterproductive Tendencies ✩ James Hetfield

⭒ introductory, part one, part three, part four ⭒ (wordcount: 8.4k)

Part two of multiple: Underwire and Avidity (18+)

Mentions/Warnings: mentions of being sick due to a hangover, mentions of alcoholism, semi-public sex, dry humping

Your eyelashes tickle the precipice of your undereye, as the sensation of a delicate caress slowly begins to awaken you from your deep sleep, the coolness of silvered rings dragging themselves alongside your jawline causes a chill to configure and travel its way down to the base of your spine. You squint and shove your face toward and into the touch as a large beam of afternoon sunlight welcomes you within your first wide and fully opened blink, a blush reddening your cheeks as you raise your narrowed line of sight and unintentionally make eye contact with James. Bright blue irises ardently peer down at you as you immediately attempt to blink the blurriness away and focus on the man kneeling beside you, the temporary dark spots in your vision from the intrusion of bright light making it harder for you to do so.

The knuckles that were caressing you earlier, carefully turn themselves around while still maintaining the weight of the side of your head and slide down to cup your chin instead. Your lips tiredly upturn as the events of earlier that morning slowly cascade themselves back into your mind and memory, and a matching one slowly enraptures James' face as he takes in your elated and content expression. A thumb lightly taps itself on the ridge of your chin and you obediently bring your head forward, meeting him halfway as he guides you into a lazy, yet heartfelt kiss. Morning stubble grinds itself against the softness of your skin, and you raise a hand and encase it around the nape of his neck to usher him in even closer.

A sigh of relief is breathed out into the shared space between you two, and you let out a mewl as his now familiarized taste finds its way back to the tip of your tongue. James' hand firms itself around your chin and holds you in place as he gently coerces your mouth open with the beginning of his appendage, exhaling out a groan as he makes his way inside of your welcoming heat.

Your fingertips tangle themselves in the short hairs near the back of his skull, and the reverberation of his moan as you teasingly tug makes you giggle as it tickles your cupid's bow. James grins against you and pulls back for an unsteady intake of air, his free hand coming up to encircle itself around your left hipbone. "Good morning." He greets you huskily and rasped, his pupils dilated, and his lips swollen and damp with shared spit. You lick your own and chase after his taste, your hand sliding down his back as he raises himself up from his earlier position to sit on the edge of the side of the bed.

"Morning," you nearly titter, feeling light and refreshed as James' thumb unhurriedly massages figure 8's into your clothed side. The fabric of his shirt raises and lowers on your exposed thigh as he continues his ministrations, and his eyes can't help but to follow the movement with unhidden interest. Before you could tease him for his seemingly one-track mind, a miserable sounding groan makes itself inside the room through the still partially open bedroom door, and you worriedly push yourself up into a sitting position. "What the hell was that?" You ask, your heart tightly clenching with anxiety at the off-putting sound.

James goes to shrug it off, before frowning as the sound continues and becomes even louder. You quickly kick your feet out of the top sheet and comforter and slide down to the foot of the bed, gently waving off his questions as you instinctively follow the sound of discomfort. You mentally thank yourself for keeping on the non-slip socks as you hastily make your way down the hallway and past James' bedroom, before stopping in front of a wide open, bathroom entrance.

You immediately let out a coo as Kirk comes into view, the elastic you had gifted him earlier this morning becoming fully useful as he rests his upper half against the cold looking toilet seat. The curly haired brunette looks over at you with tear filled eyes, and you can't help but make your way inside of the room and sit down next to him. Your hand closest to him reaches up to push the stray hairs away from his sweat clad forehead, before coming back down to lightly at rub his upper back.

"Too much beer pong?" You quietly inquire, being mindful of your tone and volume after he lets out a wince as the toilet seat smacks down audibly after sticking to his forearm. Kirk lets out a weak grunt and slowly nods, before leaning his head back and sucking in a deep breath of stale air. "Never drinking from a fucking goblet again, can't keep anything down." You eye the half empty glass of cold water haphazardly resting on the edge of the sink and bite at your bottom lip, before standing up and making your way over to the mirrored cabinet.

You gently reassure him you aren't going anywhere after he whines once you move away, your hands instantly reaching forward for the isopropyl alcohol and cotton pads as soon as they come into view. Kirk squeezes his eyes shut after he curiously attempts to look up at you, cursing out loud as the artificial bright light causes a sharp pain to twinge behind both of his twitching eyelids. You quickly lower yourself back down beside him and open up the bottle, before ripping open the cotton pad container and saturating one of them with the clear and potent liquid.

"Do me a favor and sniff this," You instruct, holding back a grin as Kirk makes a stinging expression once you bring it an inch away from his face. "I know it burns a bit, but it'll distract you from the smell of sick and help suppress your nausea." You send him an encouraging smile as he looks at you in disbelief, before letting out a sigh of defeat and grasping onto it with a shaky hand to bring it closer to his nose.

James quietly clears his throat near the doorway, yet you two still jump at the sound. You tightly secure the cap on the bottle and make your way over to him once you're sure Kirk won't get sick again, the gentle look you're met with enough to make you pause in place. James holds out a hand to you and you automatically reach forward to grasp onto him and entangle your fingers with his, the calloused skin of his palm a comforting contrast to your own. You smile to yourself as you're tugged forward and nearly make contact with his firm chest.

"You didn't have to do all that, I'm sure he would have been just fine. Not his first or last hangover." You lightly shrug at his words, the tightness in your chest loosening as you glance over at Kirk and see color coming back to his face. James uses his free hand to gently guide you out into the hallway once the toilet flushes and his bandmate is able to stably stand up on his own.

"He made me feel welcome in here earlier this morning after my dormmates basically kicked me out and made me fend for myself, the least I could do is make sure he's alright and feeling a little less sick." You murmur, nodding to Kirk as he wearily makes his way out of the bathroom and back to his bedroom. James grins down at you, before shaking his head to himself, his thumb tabbing out to lightly rub against yours.

"How about you go and put some pants on, and then meet me downstairs? Pretty sure the rest of the guys are in the kitchen, trying to find something edible enough to make a late breakfast with," James humors, his own smile widening as he takes in the anew light in your eyes from his joke. You quickly agree, using his hand as leverage as he lowers himself to place a kiss on your forehead, the heels of your feet lifting off the ground for easier access. "I'll see you downstairs, baby." You repeat the same sentiment and watch as he makes his way down the large staircase, the small smile on your lips beginning to start to feel permanent as you do so.

"Looks like someone's making themselves at home," a voice muses out from the other side of the hall, causing you to twist your head to the side and grin once you realize it's Jason. "Heard you beat James at beer pong, after the rest of us headed to bed. Pretty badass."

"Surprised he even admitted to it," you express, nodding your head down to his full hands once you notice the guitar cases and bag. "Are you heading out for your gig?" A surprised and grateful look etches itself on his face as he walks his way over to you.

"Didn't know you or anyone else heard me say that over the screams and bottles of Bacardi." You catch on to his self-deprecating tone and decide to reassure him. "I don't know any of you guys all that much, but you seem to fit in well with them and they liked you a whole lot earlier, especially during the game," you pause as a multitude of expressions paint themselves on his face, the longest one sticking around being uncertainty. "You're their newest member, right? Just joined a few months ago?"

You feel pride as he reignites and smiles back at you, his nod turning jubilant after your acknowledgment. "Then that means something, means they want you around. If they could invite me in earlier without even knowing me, and treat me as well as they did, you included, then why do you think they wouldn't do the same to you? You're a whole hell of a lot more useful around here than I am."

Jason raises an eyebrow at your own self-deprecation, and you both share a laugh, before quieting down as a loud car horn blares itself outside. "That's me," he announces, his facial expression turning excited at the prospect of playing music and being on stage again. Jason pauses at the top of the stairway, turning around mid-step to send you a grateful look. "Thanks for the reassurance and your kind words. I think you're pretty useful around here, coming from the way you had us all laughing earlier and just by the way our frontman looks at you. I don't think I've ever seen him that happy and present before. And for what it's worth, coming from me, welcome to the family." Before you could fully register his words, he was already gone and halfway down the staircase. Echoed goodbyes and joyful expletives are exchanged downstairs, before the front door is being slammed shut and tires are skidding and screeching away outside.

As you make your way back to the guest room and toss back on the same sweatpants from earlier and re-tuck James' shirt back inside, Jason's words replay in your head, in a non-skipping and pleasant repetition.

Welcome to the family.

⭒

Hushed whispers resonate in the large living room near the staircase you descend upon as you make your way downstairs, the chill from earlier this morning now long gone and the floor much warmer. You skid to a halt as you hear your name in the half-murmured conversation and contemplate on going back upstairs to give them privacy, before your curiosity gets the best of you. You make sure to stay as quiet as you possibly can as you get yourself closer to them and in earshot, the cushioned padding on the bottom of the socks helping to mute your footsteps on the tiles underneath your feet. You lean against a pool table nearest to the kitchen, the wall being the only separation from you and the rest of the guys currently speaking.

"I'm just saying, we're going on tour in less than a month. It isn't the best idea or ideal to get all caught up on a chick, when we're going to end up being halfway across the country and all you guys will have to hold onto instead of each other, are overpriced phone calls and tissues." You purse your lips as Lars bluntly speaks from only a few feet away from you, the only other sounds coming from around him being scuffed footsteps and the sizzling telltale sign of food currently being cooked on the stove.

"He isn't lying, het. And that isn't us just saying shit because we don't like her, we think she's great. We all do. But think about it for your sake, and for hers too," resounding silence emanates throughout the entirety of the large home, and your stomach drops as it continues to persist until Cliff speaks up again. "You've tried this long-distance relationship bullshit multiple times before, and it didn't work out back then. Why do you think it'll work out now? Because this doesn't feel like another re-run with your ex?"

"She isn't like her at all." Is spoken out gutturally, and you hold your breath as James finally talks for the first time in minutes. His only few words are spoken with such finality, and you decidedly walk into the room and speak up before you could continuously stand there and spiral on your own. You figure you have heard more than enough.

"I think I should head over to my place and see if my dormmates ended up getting some sleep after all," you begin, watching as they all temporarily freeze in place, before quickly coming to the realization that you had almost just heard the entirety of their conversation about you. "Thanks for being so kind and welcoming. I'll be sure to bring back the outfit." You try to smile, but it comes off as too pained and forced. Cliff looks back at you in shock, before his face falls in guilt and remorse, Lars being no better off. Shame is painted on his face, but James' expression is completely closed off and guarded, nothing like how he's been with you, since the very first moment he saw you in his bedroom.

So much for welcome to the family.

You walk towards the nearest exit after a few moments of no one speaking up, uncaring of only being in borrowed socks and with your shoes still being upstairs. You take in a deep breath and squeeze your eyes shut, before reopening them and quickly unlatching the lock on the door to the front entrance. The door is only a quarter of an inch open, before a familiar large and ringed hand is pushing it shut and delicately trying to turn you around. You refuse to budge and feel your teeth narrowly miss your bottom lip as you clench your top and bottom sets together, as you feel James' head rest on top of yours from behind.

"Please just hear me out." He pleads, the pained whisper of your name afterwards causing you to sigh and slide out of his grasp and vicinity. You turn to face him, but stare at his chest instead, knowing that if you were to look him in the eye, you would cry.

"Did you already know that you were leaving in less than a month, to go on tour?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper, you wishful for it to not shake. Multiple sets of footsteps hastily make their way upstairs, but you continue to stare at his shirt in front of you, still wrinkled in the same places you had gripped at it earlier this morning. "Please, just be honest with me."

"Yes." He regretfully grits, and you huff out a dry laugh, your eyes beginning to sting with frustrated and unshed tears.

"So, you led me on then," your eyes shoot up and cut him short as he opens his mouth to argue and disagree. "You saw me, knew that I got the short end of the stick by my roommates, and thought I'd be an easy lay by the time you packed your things and were ready to get on the road. Is that it?" James vehemently shakes his head no, but you continue, tears embedding themselves in your lower lashes and slowly making their way down your flushed and overheated cheeks.

"You made a promise with me to make things work, and then I come down here after an amazing time and beginning of my day with you, just to walk into a conversation and not only find out that you're leaving in less than a month, but that I'm also being compared to your ex, by your friends and by people who were nothing but nice to me and welcoming for the entire time I was with them at the party. What exactly am I supposed to hear out? Because I think I heard everything just fine."

James reaches up and grips at his own hair before letting out a hallow curse, his expression heartbroken and angered at the same time. Your frustration begins to die down as you see his waterline edge with tears and his lower lip begin to tremble.

"Please just listen to me. Please," James begs, disentangling his hands from his hair to reach out and grab onto your own, his shoulders visibly lowering with relief after you don't immediately pull away. "You didn't hear the entire conversation, I swear. As soon as I came downstairs, the guys started teasing me, talking about how differently I acted last night because I was with you. Normally, I'd be damn near incoherent and trashing the house with strangers and women, but I didn't because I had you. I found you. You came over here, unassuming and nonjudgmental and unknowing of who we were, and you completely dropped me, straight on my ass. You were kind and funny, and treated us equally, the complete and utter opposite of your dormmates. You trusted me the entire party and treated my friends as if they were your own, and the way you took care of Kirk this morning," James stops himself as his voice cracks, his eyes welling up and his hands trembling in yours.

You gently squeeze his palms with silent reassurance, and you allow him to step closer to you, to tower over you and bring your joined hands up to his chest.

"The way you took care of Kirk this morning, and the way you reassured Jason earlier. We heard it, we all did. When you came down, you heard my best friend's fucked up ways of asking if I was ready to try again, to possibly fail at another relationship. That had nothing to do with you, and the fact that you were brought up and compared to someone who is nothing like you and will never be, wasn't fair either," James takes in a tremoring breath and runs his eyes down your form, as if trying to placate himself by reminding himself that you were still there, that you hadn't walked away just yet, that he still had a chance to make things right.

"My ex and I weren't the best. She knew of who I was before we got together, and she was attracted to the idea of me, she didn't love me. She loved the idea of me, the idea of how far the band and I could get her, how far she could get by being with me and being friends with the rest of the guys. I was two months into the last tour and on the road when she called me and broke things off. Said she found someone in another band that had already taken off, and that she didn't need me any longer for temporary footing. She was cheating on me all along. So, when you came down and heard Lars and Cliff being cautious about me moving on and possibly getting myself into a relationship that may or may not be the easiest for you or myself, it didn't have anything to do with you. It had to do with my own fucked up history, with how I messed up on my own and messed myself up before I even met you."

James carefully lets go of your hands to cup and hold your chin like he had done earlier, his once bright and clear eyes, now dull and fragmented. You tilt your head upward and blink rapidly as his fingertips splay across your skin and remind you that he's still there, that he's still here with you. That he isn't going anywhere, not unless you tell him to.

"I didn't tell you about the tour, because our official date keeps on changing. Our producer and team either want to always keep things the same or want us to write and record five more songs in a week. We don't even have an official live setlist yet. But that isn't an excuse, I fucked up by not letting you know what was going on, and that was my fault. In my mind, I still had at most, another thirty days with you, to tell you. To show you I could be what you need, what you want, and to solidify things with you, to the point that me being gone and on tour wouldn't even make a difference between us."

You furrow your brows in confusion, looking up at him with wide and bewildered eyes. "Be what I need, what I want?" You ask, your tone incredulous. "When have I ever specified that I wanted anyone or anything other than you since we've met?" You encircle your hands around his wrists, his pulse ricocheting and racing underneath your fingertips. You tug and gaze up at him intently. "Answer me, please, tell me."

"You didn't have to say anything, I already know," you cut him off by gently placing a kiss on his forearm, and then his inner elbow, his bicep. Your fingers dance up to his shoulders and then enrapture themselves in the wavy locks that bestow themselves on his shoulders and upper back once he lifts you up, your socked feet now inches off the ground.

Calloused palms grip the backs of your upper thighs and hold you in place as your legs raise themselves and hug his middle. "What did I just kiss you with?" You ask in a hurried breath of a whisper, your lips now only a few centimeters away from his own.

"Your mouth." James answers you shakily, the tip of his nose rubbing against yours as he speaks. His eyelids flutter and he sucks in a deep breath as you lean forward and brush your plush set against his, his pupils shot and his heart beating incessantly and erratically in his chest.

"And if it isn't coming from me, and it's in your head, then that means it isn't true. Not completely, at least," you murmur, your tone soft and warm. "The only way I wouldn't want you is if you didn't want me, and I want you just as you are. Sweet and gentle, giving and receiving." James shakes his head in disagreement and rests his forehead against yours.

"I'm different on the road. I drink more often, and the partying can get to my head," he stumbles verbally, his thoughts going a mile a minute. But when he takes a deep breath and refocuses on you, it all starts to clear and pan out. "What you see now is me when I'm controlled. When I'm with you and the guys, things are easy. If I get attached to you, and I go on the road and you aren't there, I don't know what'll happen." You loosen your fingers in his mane and bring them up to caress the sides of his face, to cups his jawline and rub your thumb against the swell of his bottom lip.

"Well then, I guess we've got less than thirty days to get our shit together, together." A grin overtakes his downtrodden features, and his eyes widen with newfound hope. "Together?" He asks you, the thin and nearly nonexistent distance between you two turns into zilch as you guide him forward and place your lips on top of his.

"Together."

Every kiss that you have shared with him so far was electrifying, gut churning, scorching, pulsating and one of its own kind, but this one feels like coming home. From the soft pulses of his own plush lips against yours, to his hands gripping onto the loose fabric of your sweatpants to try and bring you in impossibly closer. To the lack of tears on his waterline when you two disconnect, and the way he whispers your name and the way it makes you smile.

"I need you to go back to your dorm house and get changed, get dressed," James beams, his voice now clear and secure, all of his fears and insecurities gone with you in his arms. "There's some place I want to take you."

⭒

You let out a sigh of relief once you cross the street and see the front door is open again, the sound of a familiar theme song projecting itself from the tv in the living room giving you enough feeling of normalcy to make your way inside and past the screen door and deadbolt. Five pairs of similar looking shoes are neatly placed in a row near the coat and jacket closet, and the attendance sheet still looks the same as it did nearly twelve hours ago, indicating that no one came in and no one went out.

Footsteps pitter their way down the stairs and you suck in a deep breath as your eldest dormmate comes into view, her face neutral and her shoulders upward and narrowed in. Her lips purse in a half scowl as she takes in the change of your outfit from your earlier attire, her eyes raking themselves up and down you in a way that feels overly scrutinizing and uncomfortable.

"You didn't make it back home last night." Is stated dryly, nearly feeling like a punishment itself, like a rough slap to the hand. You twist your fingers in the oversized sleeves of James' shirt, a button tickling the inner skin of your left index finger as you fight the urge to shrink back from her uncaring and demeaning tone. You instead straighten up and meet her halfway and equally for once, opening your shoulders and realigning your back, posture the complete opposite of her own.

"You wouldn't have let me back in if I had knocked, since it was past curfew. And by the time everything was calmed down and situated, the front door was already closed, and the side porch light was off. What else could you have expected me to do, but stay the night?" Silence envelops the small room you two stand in before the dining room and staircase, and you refuse to look away as her eyes widen back at you.

The tv shuts itself off, automatically timed for specific hours of the day, and you expel out an exhausted sigh as the silence drones on. "I'll be back before curfew, I'll get my chores done in time, I'll go to my classes and focus on my studies." You recite without flaw, the never-ending poem of bullshit you had just reiterated stapled and laminated on top of the fridge, right above the chronological and numerical, age ordered chore list, with your name directly on the bottom of it.

Your elder dormmate hums and gives you one last once over, before skirting herself towards the kitchen. You freeze mid step as you're halfway up the flight of stairs, her trilling voice sounding like it was right behind you as she voices out from the other side of the compacted and overshared home. A mischievous smile breaks through your lowered mood at her next words, the bottom hem of James' shirt nearly lifted over your head before you make it to your bedroom.

"Music was off before four in the morning this time, good job."

You make sure your door is fully shut and locked before you squat near the end of your bed and reach forward for your secret compartment, relief flooding through you as your fingertips graze the still closed latch. Bright whites and yellows lighten up the beige of your assigned bedroom, and a content grin lifts your lips as your eyes set and stop on a particular white, lacy bra and matching sundress. You make sure to dress as quickly as you can, using a small handle on your wooden, makeshift closet, to tighten and readjust the last lining of lace on the upper part of the back of your white linen.

You put back on and readjust the sweatpants and dress shirt over your main outfit and slide on a pair of brown boots, before hurrying back downstairs and safely making it past your elder dormmates, your signing out signature messily scrawled on the paper and its tethered pen swinging in the wake of you making a break for it back outside.

⭒

You untangle your hair from the top button of James' dress shirt, tossing a playful glare over your shoulder as he lets out a hilarity filled laugh at the sight of you struggling. You hear his laughter die down as soon as you remove his clothing from your upper half and slide the sweatpants down your legs.

"Is something still funny?" You innocently ask, locking your booted ankles together as you lean back against the warming up car, your eyes wide with amusement and his enlarged in wonder and awe. You watch him swallow thickly and quietly shake his head, his eyes flickering down to the swell of your breasts and the accentuated curves of your hips and thighs. "Didn't think so, big boy." A soft smile makes its way on your face and curves your lips upward, as an innocent blush colors his cheeks at the endearing and teasing nickname.

"So, where are you taking me?" You narrow your eyes as James lightly shrugs instead of answering and places a hand on your lower back to guide you over to the passenger's side of the car, his rough fingertips teasing at the lace embodying itself on the natural curvature of your spine and arched back.

"Now if I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise, now would it?" He rebuts, a teasing and mirthful grin taking over his features as he opens the door for you and carefully closes it once you're fully sat down inside and situated. You turn your head to the side and stare out the window to hide your enamored grin, your heart fluttering in your chest at his chivalrous actions. James slides an arm over the large one-seater in the front of the car once he's back in and tugs you closer over to his side, your left leg insistently pressing itself against the center console as he brings your upper half flush to his side. You ignore the pressure on your limb and rest your head against his muscled and stable shoulder, placing a feather of a kiss on his clothed arm as he backs the car out of the long driveway and steadily begins to drive you two down the street.

Orange and yellow bellows itself through the windows as the sun relaxedly begins to set, and you watch with partially closed eyes as the familiar streets slowly fade away, nature eventually taking over mail trucks and rush hour traffic. Large, colorful bushes and vine covered fences greet you as James makes his way into a completely empty parking lot and places his car in park. Your eyes widen as you turn your head to look around in curiosity and find a large patch of land, completely covered in daffodils.

"When the hell did you find this? This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen." You gasp out, eagerly waiting for James to make it back over to your side of the car after he insists on opening your door for you again. You gratefully hold onto his extended hand as you exit the car, the loose fabric at the bottom of your dress making it harder for you to see and be mindful of your own footing.

"I got really overwhelmed one day and felt like shit afterwards, so I took a long drive and ended up over here. Now I come whenever I need a bit of time alone and space away from everybody." James explains, his arms encircling themselves around you from behind as you two make your way over to the land covered in spring flowers. You both exhale out a huff of laughter as you two stumble forward, the smile on your lips only widening as he places your feet on top of his. You stand still and straighten up as he begins a steady pace, letting out a shriek as you two go tumbling backwards in the grass as your boots slide off his and cause your feet to unceremoniously intertwine. You hear him let out a soft oof as you two make contact with the partially softened ground, a loud guffaw punching itself out of your chest as you twist around and see the look of shock on James' face.

"Are you alright?" You try to ask through tear filled laughter, wincing and letting out a short cry of pain as your side begins to cramp up due to the force of your amused movements. You can barely see him through your tears, but you could feel him vibrate with mirth underneath you. You take in a deep breath and go to partially lie down on his front, reaching forward to press his wrists on either side of his head, a playful smile lifting your lips. "I asked you a question, if I remember correctly." You muse.

James raises an eyebrow up at you, before letting out an amused laugh, going pliant under your hold. "I'm alright, angel. Don't you worry about me." The sincere tone in his voice makes you melt, and you can't help but rest your chest against his and lean down to give him a kiss. You easily get lost in it, the finesse of his tongue and the caressing arch above his upper lip enough to take your attention off of the beautiful scenery surrounding the two of you. You let out a hum as James lightly laughs against your kiss bruised lips, before gasping as large hands escape your loose grip and flip you two over entirely. Your head gently lands on a small bound of yellow flowers, and an incredulous chortle rings in the heady air surrounding you, it quickly turning into a light and confused sound as your hands are place over and away from your head.

"Is this your way of letting me know you like being on top?" You ask him playfully, the smile on your face turning into a small gape as you watch his eyes darken as he stares down at you. You feel a shiver run through you as James' hold on your wrists gently tightens, the pressure of him nearly lying on top of you adding to the warmth quickly making its way down to your groin. "James?" You whisper out, biting back a gasp as his denim clad leg purposefully and roughly rubs against the sensitive, upper and inner skin of your thighs.

James' eyes dart down to your breasts, the underwire of your bra lifting and holding them in just the right place, even as you're laid down and nearly spread apart underneath him. A flush on your chest begins to develop as he leans back to look down at the way your dress rises with each light blow of the wind, his firm grasp around your wrists now gone, but you continue to hold still and keep them in place.

Your hips jump up in his light hold as he just barely runs his hands down your clothed sides, your center beginning to throb and your sex starting to dampen as his hands make themselves lower, and lower. James bites back a grin as his eyes dart up from your form and see the desperate look on your face, his own length filling out and pulsating at the simple art and view of you laid out for him, beneath him and staying just as he left you. "You're being so good for me, I think you deserve a reward," he praises, running a ringed hand up your middle, only to divert and cup one of your breasts instead. You let out a resounding gasp as he flips his hand over and uses the cool side of a ring to lightly run it over your hardening nub through your dress's fabric. "Anything you want baby, and I'll give it to you." He promises, his tone heartfelt and sincere as he teases your oversensitive nipple and slides his leg up in between yours to lightly tap it against your swelling and soaked clit. You cry out a mewl and buck up to rub your sex against the rough fabric of his jeaned leg, tears of relief stinging your eyes as James presses his thigh against your core to add more dizzying pressure.

"That's right, baby, use my thigh," He encourages, reaching down to shove the rest of your lower dress's fabric up to your middle, letting out a broken curse as your essence is obvious and seeping through the fabric of your lace lined underwear. "You can be as loud as you need to be, sweetheart. I'll take such good care of you. We won't leave until I've made you cum at least twice. Want to make such a pretty fucking mess out of you." You twist your wrists to the side and grasp onto grass for leverage as your first orgasm pummels through you, your hips raising off the ground and your legs encircling themselves around his middle. James grips your waist as you tremor in his hold, his mouth salivating at the sight of the soaked fabric sticking itself to your sensitive pussy, now just a few inches away from his sore and heavy feeling dick.

He closes his eyes and forces himself to not dive headfirst in between your shaking limbs and lick and suck you clean, until tears are streaming down your beautifully flushed cheeks and the only word you're able to verbalize is his name. Until you spread your legs even wider and welcome him inside you, the force of his thrusts making him bottom out and have his hips flush against yours, the only sound above the two of your guys' moans being the slick attaching itself and breaking apart at the center of your connecting flesh.

You reach up and caress the side of his face with a shaky hand, greeting him with a blissful smile once he reopens his cobalt blue eyes and amorously looks back down into your own. You unsteadily use your core muscles to lower your clothed pussy on top of his jean clad bulge, a gasp tearing itself out of your chest at the rough slide of fabric against your clit and a moan reverberating in his throat as your core's heat bleeds through his denim and straight onto his dick. "You can use me too, get off just like this." You grant permission, your wide eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head at the first slide of a weighted thrust against your soaked and sensitive bundle of nerves.

James' mind seems to blank and glaze over once you verbalize your consent, his movements and further words now only encouraged by the thought of making you cum again and getting rid of the dull ache in between his legs, musky and thick globs of pre-ejaculate staining and making their way through his briefs and thick lining of his zipper. You reach forward and bring yourself halfway off your back to grab at the button keeping the jeans attached to his hips fully closed, tugging the fabric down to the ends of his thighs and sending him a grateful look once he accommodates your movements and helps you pull down the skin clad denim. James sighs in relief once the pressure is removed from on top of his dick, his hands immediately venturing down to the backs of your knees to slide you back down on the naturally blanketed ground and spread your legs even wider and further apart. Your cheeks burn as he aligns his clothed cockhead against the center of the wet patch of your release through your underwear, a whine of his name on the edge of your thirsted tongue as he reaches down to entangle his fingers with yours instead of fucking himself against you.

A teasing smile licks at the crown of his lips as his hungry eyes take in every inch of you, the way your clit visibly pulsates beads of arousal through the cotton and the way your stomach sucks in a deep breath every time he slightly pushes his hips forward to rub his swollen and red cockhead against the center of your weeping pussy. James bends down and presses his upper half against you to place a reassuring kiss on your gaping and gasping mouth, the tip of his tongue teasing your bottom lip as he finally begins to rub and thrust his dick against you.

"Do you see what you do to me, can you feel it?" He asks you huskily, his eyelids feeling heavy and half open as he fucks himself against you with reckless abandon, grunting as his cockhead roughly brushes against your clit and your previous release bleeds its way onto and inside his own protective layer. You squeeze your fingers around his as you desperately nod, a wet cry of a moan trapped inside your throat as your hands are held down by his and his cock expertly rubs itself against your oversensitive and numbing pussy. "Bet you'd feel so tight around me, making a mess out of my cock and cumming all down your own legs," He whispers against you, his eyes baring themselves into yours as he watches tears of pleasure swell in your eyes and cascade down your temples. Your thighs seize in around him as you feel the familiar and overwhelming sensation of another orgasm approaching, your spine arching itself off the ground underneath you and your lower stomach brushing against his happy trail, your eyes squeezing shut as his lips part against yours and you two share huffed breaths of moans and gasps. "You think you can cum again for me, baby? Right against me this time? Make my cock nice and wet for me?"

"Yes, yes," you whisper against him in a mantra, your eyes snapping back open as your release bends its way out of you, James letting out a pleasured groan as your nails dig into the backs of his hands and your slick clings to both of your guys' underwear, them matting in the middle and creating the perfect slide in between you two. "Don't stop, want you to cum against me." You weep, whimpering in oversensitivity as he nods against you and slides his hands down to grip at your waist, leaning back to rest the backs of his thighs against the heels of his shoed feet. You watch as his eyes glaze over once again, as the muscles in his forearms tighten and become taught as he uses you for his own personal pleasure, the wet stain on his underwear starting to have a white hue as his balls begin to raise and tighten.

Your breasts begin to bounce with the force of his humps and thrusts against you, your stomach tightening with overstimulation as his jaw drops and his mouth pops open, guttural sounds of desperation and deep-rooted pleasure clawing its way out of his drying throat. "I bet you'd feel so good inside of me," you start, a moaned mewl interrupting you as his cockhead rubs at your entrance, the flimsy and thin material of your underwear bending inward to allow him to almost slide through and be exactly where he truly wants to be, where he craves. "You'd stretch me open and fill me up so nicely, paint me white and keep me warm." You pant, pleasure starting to come back as he nearly tears the cotton and makes his way inside of you with the force behind his hips, his fingertips digging into your skin in the most delicious way.

"Is that it? That's what you want?" He asks you through a hearty and thick moan, his voice graveled and almost baritone, his release tittering and on the edge as he watches your tits bounce and your wide eyes stare back up at him with overwhelming and unadulterated lust. "You want me to breed you, fuck you until you're loose and spasming around me? Until you can't speak or walk, because you're shaking so much?" James groans at his own words, the images flooding through his mind of you fully naked and underneath him, begging for him to fuck you harder and hold you in place as he brings you both over the edge, is what causes him to cum, the thick seed coating and covering the entirety of his length and shooting up past the elastic of his briefs.

You watch in awe as white spurts make their way onto his happy trail and bead through the darkened, wet patches of his underwear, the throbbing and pulsation of his release being able to be felt through both of your fabrics and reverberate back down onto your clit. James fucks himself against you and through his cocks last efforts of emptying itself messily all over himself and both of your front's, the crease in between his brows smoothing out and his grip on your sides softening and turning into a shaky caress.

"Are you alright, angel?" He asks you. His chest heaving, back taut and muscles contracting, his ballsack still raised and swollen, but his main priority being to make sure he wasn't too rough with you and that you are okay. He can't help but smile down at you as you let out a small bout of incredulous laughter, your hair pillowing out beneath you as you fully lay back and relax in the grass surrounded by flowers. James follows soon after you, biting back a grimace as your shared releases stick uncomfortably to his groin, his arms instinctually wrapping themselves around your shoulders and guiding your back against his front. You close your eyes and slide a leg in between his, the rough denim keeping your limb warm as the sun fully sets and the chill in the air from earlier this morning slowly returns.

"I'm more than alright." You finally answer, your voice nearly gone and your head now resting on the side of his bicep, your lidded eyes blearily looking forward and at his car as you feel his mouth descend down to your neck. Morning stubble tickles the sensitive skin, and you close your eyes in contentment as you feel him smile against you.

"Only thirty days to solidify things with me, huh?" You decide to tease, letting out a shrill as blunt teeth playfully nip at your clavicle. James laps at the spot with his tongue and grins widely as you let out a weak sound of protest, before tilting his head back up to rest it on top of yours. "Less than thirty days to prove to you that we can make this work." He gently corrects you, loosening an arm around you to reach down and readjust your dress and tug it back down to cover your upper legs. You gently turn and twist yourself in his hold to face him, and you bring a hand up to run it through his messy mane, brushing it away from his line of view as he gazes down at you.

"Less than thirty days to prove to each other that we can make this work." You whisper, delicately correcting him this time, the feeling in your chest light, but energetic as James gifts you with an insurmountably soft look and bestows his lips upon yours. You reel your head back to look up at him, your other hand grasping at the same wrinkles you had caused earlier, your grin lifting as you watch his lashes tiredly flutter and meet in the middle as he temporarily closes his eyes.

"I think we should head back and clean up, before we both fall asleep." You huff as he lets out a resounding groan and slouches against you, before nodding and guiding you both up into a sitting position. His arm lowers from your shoulders to rub at the lower of your back, letting out a whistle as his eyes catch on to the grass stains and small clumps of dirt littered on the back of your dress.

"And I think you should take your outfit to the dry cleaner's," He rebuts, laughter evident in his tone as you raise a hand to lightly smack him on the chest. Comfortable silence wraps itself around you two as he helps you up off the ground and walks you back over to his car.

You lean back against the passenger side's front door, resting your head on the window as James places a hand near the crown of your head and carefully pulls blades of grass out of your mussed and messy hair. His thumb glides down to tilt your head upward, blue immediately locking you in as you two look back at each other, his eyes filled with devotion and yours with adoration. "We'll make this work, I don't care what it takes." He promises you, swears. You nod against his touch and lean into his warmth as he brings you into his arms, the cold breeze no match against the unbridled joy and avidity making its way to your heart.

You two will work it out, no matter the circumstances.

And even if I was told of how things would pan out, and all it would take for us to even get to where we are now, I'd still go through it all anyway, and again. Twice.

Counterproductive Tendencies ✩ James Hetfield

⭒ introductory, part one, part two, part four ⭒ (wordcount: 7.5k)

Part three of multiple: Lakeside Views and Imminent Goodbyes (Part One) (18+)

Mentions/Warnings: explicit sexual content, finger sucking, oral fixation, lars' morning drinking

Loose noted and crumpled papers wrangle themselves even more astray beneath you as you push your upper half up and twist your head to the side, laid down on tendrils of hair preoccupying your line of vision as a seemingly endless pitter of knocks continue to disturb you from your already uncomfortable position on your too-small bed. You blearily squint your eyes and untangle your partially bare legs from the sifted sheet haphazardly thrown on top of you, your eyebrows raising as you realize that the sound is not coming from your bedroom door- but rather, from behind your curtain covered window.

You hold back a shiver as your thinly covered feet make contact with the cold hardwood of your bedroom floor, the bottom hem of your sleep shirt rising and tickling the bruised skin of your upper thighs as you raise your arms over your head in a stretch while you sleepily make your way over to the sound. Your lips curl upward as a familiar and comforting voice lets out an aborted curse behind the slightly tinged fabric, your grin turning into a wide smile as you push the material back and James fully comes into view.

Tussled blonde locks parade and cascade themselves over his half-covered shoulder blades as he impatiently waits for you on the other side of the glass, his annoyed expression bleeding into a softened look of fondness as he takes in your rumpled and slept in state. A light huff of laughter petals itself from in between his plush lips, as sunlight endeavors its beams over your features and makes the indentation from one of your embroidered pillowcases on your right cheekbone more apparent, one of his hands raising in surrender from the top of your windowsill as you send him a halfhearted glare from inside and pause midway through unlatching the window's lock.

"I could just leave you out there, you know." You quietly tease, making sure to keep your tone down as your dormmate's continue to rest, the house still eerily quiet as the sun unhurriedly makes its way back up to the precipice of the cloudless sky. You wholly unlatch the lock and push the aged wood upward before James can playfully rebut back, stepping aside as he lifts his lower half and kicks his feet into the now opened space. You both wince as his heavily booted feet make loud and rough contact with the hardwood floor underneath them, before letting out muted sounds of matched amusement.

Large and warm palms curl themselves around your upper arms and gently guide you into an embrace, a sound of contentment escaping you as James' scent permeates and thickens the chilled air currently residing in your bedroom. You force your eyes to remain open as your left temple makes contact with the soft and worn cotton of his sleeveless and self-cut t-shirt, calloused fingertips etching and weaving small shapes into your clothed, goosebump ridden flesh while you tiredly blink and encircle your arms around his middle.

"You think you can put the books down for a little while, and go on a trip with me and the guys for a few days?" James asks you quietly, the timbre of his voice reverberating in his chest and lightly thrumming itself against the sensitive shell of your ear. You lift your head to peer over at your disarrayed and messy bed, your mood going from lighthearted and joyful, to pensive. James looks down at you and raises a hand to cup your chin once he catches on to your hesitation, his smile lowering into a worried frown once he sees your downtrodden expression.

"It's not that I don't want to, it's just that," you trail off, disentangling an arm from around him to rest a hand against his raised forearm, delicately thumbing at his exposed skin with a comforting and repetitive motion. "The spring semester hasn't even finished yet, and I've got essays due in less than two weeks and finals the beginning of next month." James nods, disheartened, before silently bending down to place a placating kiss on the crown of your head.

You rest your lids at the gentle sensation and lean into his touch, as his grip loosens on your chin and his palm trails down and back to rest against the nape of your neck. A sigh of relief pillows out of you as his fingers run their way up past your baby hairs to lightly tug the rest of your hair free, the elastic sliding down to wrap and knot itself around one of his thick and long digits.

"The last thing I want to do is get in between you and your studies, I know this opportunity means the world to you." He murmurs, his tone filled with understanding and warmth, regardless of the dissatisfaction weighing heavy in his gut. You reopen your eyes and trail them up to meet his, the blue in his irises light as the sun fully welcomes itself through the new clearing. You tangle your fingers in the material of the back of his shirt and contemplate, not feeling right about bailing on him and the guys, especially with how little time you two have left together.

"How far are you all venturing out for your trip, anyway?" You ask him curiously, lifting your hand from his forearm to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his bangs away from in front of his eyes. James turns his head to place a kiss against the side of your palm before it can fall, and smiles against your touch as one of your fingertips straighten out to lightly caress the indentation of the dimple in his cheek.

"Forty minutes south of here. It's a lake I found during one of my drives. Wanted to take you on my own, but Kirk got excited when I brought it up, and the rest of them just got dragged into it," Your lips quirk up at the absurdity of anyone from the band doing anything they didn't feel like doing on their own accord, and you shake your head to yourself mirthfully. James' expression soon matches your own, your elation and amusement contagious to him. "What is it?" He questions, his tone laced with barely concealed and held back merriment.

"I don't even think you could force Jason to take out the trash, and he seems like the most easy going," you joke, your stomach pleasantly tightening as James lets out a genuine and full laugh. You hum at the feeling of the back of your head being beckoned forward, and you readily mount your lips on his as he bends down to meet you halfway. You lap at his smile and swallow the soft sounds he exhales into your mouth, your body naturally molding against his as your arms encapsulate themselves around his wide and broad shoulders. Your tongues meet and embrace each other in a slick and wet reunion, the tip of his exploring appendage tracing the top of your mouth and lightly ripping a soft mewl from the back of your panting throat. You tug at his mane and begrudgingly pull away as he stutters out an unfulfilled groan, the palm he has splayed on the back of your neck gently trying to keep you in place. You lick your spit clad lips clean and force yourself to not dive right back in for another taste, your swollen pair already partially open so you can easily and hurriedly finish what you have to say. "You should have told me the trip was only forty minutes away in the beginning, babe."

James lets out a disoriented and noncommittal sound, his pupils blown wide and his lips a bright and flushed red. You bite back the pleased feeling of satisfaction emanating directly from your middle due to the blissful look on his face, and instead repeat the remainder of your earlier sentence once again. You tighten your hold around him as his eyes reignite and the content smile returns back to his face. James brings you in impossibly closer, your shuttering inhalation intertwining with his and irreparably becoming one in the small, shared space between the two of you. "And why is that?" He inquires, his voice barely audible enough to be considered a whisper.

"Because forty minutes sounds like it's close enough for me to be able to get back here and have enough time to finish up my assignment, before it's due Tuesday morning." You push the back of your hand against his grinning mouth as he lets out a resounding sound of exhilaration, the both of you freezing in place as you hear a door noisily open, and movement come from the hallway just outside of your bedroom. You hold your breath as footsteps falter and pause by your closed entrance, as if the person they belonged to was going to knock and enter, before they shift and tiredly continue down the corridor and into the nearest bathroom. You puff out a sigh of relief and lean forward to rap your head against James' vibrating chest, removing your hand from the source of his muffled laughter to lightly smack it against his lifting shoulder.

"You're trying to get me grounded before I can even make it to the lake." You playfully accuse, tilting your head back to place a kiss on his jawline, before ducking out of his hold. The hair on the nape of your neck stands as you feel him follow after you, as you make your way over to your makeshift closet to grab a small bag for your clothes and essentials. Exploring and mischievous, silver clad ringed fingers glide their way down the backs of your upper arms, dragging the loose fabric of your sleep shirt down with the intentional touch.

Stretched cotton slides down past your lowered wrists and pillows around your ankles and socked feet, and you let out a gasp as James' fingertips tease the curvature of your now bare waist. "I'm trying to get my girlfriend to come along with me on a trip with the rest of my best friends for the weekend, is what I'm trying to do," Your breath stutters in your chest at the new term, your eyes widening and lips opening in a small gape as you hear him hum from behind you and press his front against your back. You can see the muscles contract in his forearms through the small mirror you have perched on the bedside table in your room, his fingers bending inward to tug you back flush against him. "That's what gets you going, huh? Me insinuating you're mine?"

The tone is his voice is teasing, yet lustful, as if the idea and thought of you being his affects him as much as it's affecting you. You can't do anything but unsteadily nod, your tongue peeking out to lick at your bottom lip as his fingers travel down to tease the hem of your underwear, the rough skin of his wide palms leaving you to suck in a shallow breath as his fingertips dip down underneath the fabric to tease the skin surrounding your quivering groin. Warm and kiss bitten lips trail their way down your neck and rest upon your left collarbone as his hands flatten themselves on either side of your pubic area.

You force your hips to not buck up and stay in place as his index and middle fingers graze the folds of your slick sex, centimeters away from your already pulsating and beading clit. "Answer me, baby."

"Yes, I want to be yours." You nearly whine, eyelids fluttering shut as he teasingly taps his fingertip on the source of your sensitive and overwhelming arousal. You can feel his lips spread in a smile against your heated up skin, your heartbeat faltering in your chest as one of his hands abandons your lower half to slide up and cup your breasts through the flimsy material of your wire-free bra. James coos out a condescending sound of faux sympathy, before maneuvering his fingers to flick at one of your already erect nipples. You feel your whole body shudder and attempt to curl into itself as a thick finger circles your soaked entrance, but you reach up to grasp onto his wrists to keep yourself upright instead, desperate for his touch and for what might come next. Your eyes snap back open as you feel something firm press along the side of your back.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs in the now thick and electrified air surrounding you two, his gentle tone taking a rougher and more guttural side as he presses the hard length of his dick along the top of your backside and lower spine. The hand teasing your entrance comes up to press itself flat on your stomach, to help accentuate the hard pulsations thrumming from his own desperation, his cockhead painfully rubbing against the rough fabric of the inside of his jeans and dribbling a mess down his taut and tense midsection. "You've been mine since the second I saw you."

His weighted words do nothing but overwhelm and stimulate you even more, the confirmation of you already being his makes you instinctually squeeze your legs closer together and silently hope that you aren't already making a mess down your thighs and on the floor beneath you. You give in and allow your head to fall back and pillow on his chest, before arching your back and applying pressure to exactly where he seems to need it the most. Your lips twitch upward as you feel his moan before you hear it, it being stuttered out and heady as your body's natural warmth envelops his painful erection in the closest way it can through the few layers of clothing in between the two of you. James' lips part and spread hot heat down your clavicle as he deserts your breasts and stomach to grip at your waist and lift your feet off the ground. You let out a shocked gasp and tighten your hold around his wrists, a blush traveling its way down to your groped chest once you realize that he now has you two positioned directly in front of the small mirror on your table.

Sun beams nearly take away all visibility, yet you can still see his large hands cultivating themselves in the curved skin of your waist, and you can see the developed arch in his back as he purposefully places his groin against your ass. Your socked feet are returned back on the ground, and you watch, enraptured, as his hands begin to travel all around your middle and down to the hem of your underwear once again. "Tell me what's mine again?" He requests, although it sounds more like a gentle demand. His left hand repositions and massages gentle circles in your side, while his right stays on the edge of your low risen, cotton material. "Whose stomach is this?" He asks, the chill from the rings on his fingers reigniting and bringing back your earlier goosebumps full force as they're pressed into your skin. You open your mouth and obediently answer him, embarrassment flooding through you as you hear the uncharacteristic and needy tone in your voice.

"Yours," you answer, the only word you're able to verbalize sounding like a plea. James takes his time with you, his right hand only moving a few inches up and down your bare skin, each time skimming over your soaked and almost close to dripping pussy. Your hips attempt to rise and grind against his wrist as he bends down to run his calloused palm down the expanse of your right thigh, and you jolt back in place as his fingertips on your waist lightly pinch at your skin in a silent warning.

"Yours," you repeat, your voice sounding hoarse and painfully dry as his hand slides into the mess sticking to your thighs. James' fingers collect some of your slick, and he hungrily raises his hand up to his mouth, one of your hands encircled around his wrists getting disconnected during his hasty movement. You wait with a tethered breath for his reaction, frustrated and pent-up emotions of tears sting your eyes and lie on your waterline while you're unable to see. "Please." You beg, finally letting go of his other wrist to turn yourself around in his grip, only to freeze when you see his reaction. James' eyes are fully shut, and his arm falls limply to his side after you release yourself from his hold. His slicked fingers are almost completely inside of his mouth, his tongue audibly sliding in between his own digits to lap up every single drop of your natural essence, as if he was starving and craving the substance for years.

His pupils are entirely enlarged, and his irises are nearly black, when he eventually reopens his eyes to look down at you. Your own ardently track every movement of his own, from the way his trail down your neck and the swell of your breasts, down to your trembling thighs, and finally, back up to your wanting expression. You reach up to cover his hand with your own, before guiding his recently soaking fingertips into your salivating and awaiting mouth. Your lips stop and enclose themselves around his index and middle finger's second knuckles, only to open up wider and lave the rest of your slick off of his silvered jewelry. You feel the shiver wrack through his body as he watches you chase after the remaining taste of yourself on his spit-covered fingers, flattening your tongue and relaxing your throat as he tentatively presses down on your appendage and places the rest of the length of his fingers in your mouth. You swallow around them and moan at the weight of his digits on your tongue and the lightly faded taste of your own arousal coating your taste buds, the mess on your once clenching together thighs, now slowly traveling its way down to your knees in a multitude of translucent pearls.

You nearly choke as footsteps reappear near your doorway and slowly make their way back to their original location, your suctioned lips raising up in a smile and a laugh reverberating around James' fingers once you catch on to the hilarity of the situation. James can't help but smile himself, and his spent cockhead jumps in the now dampened confines of his jeans at the carnal sound your mouth makes as he slides his digits out of your warm heat.

"I think my place might be a better spot for us to fool around at." James chuckles out, his cleaner hand coming up to lightly wipe at the mess on your chin and the beginning of your neck. You grin up at him and shakily bend down to grab at your sleep shirt, only to pause after you hear a rustle and soft fabric is being pressed into your curved palms. You glance down at the self-cut t-shirt in your hands and stand back up to your full height, before ushering James down to press a thankful kiss to his still damp and kiss chapped lips.

"Always the gentleman and romantic." You muse while lifting the fabric up to open it and place it over your head, a wide smile hoisting your sore lips even higher as he lets out a sarcastic huff. "You count me dry hump fucking you in public and nearly fingering you in your strict dormitory, gentlemanlike and romantic?" James asks you humorously, collecting your hair to free it from the inside of his shirt once you successfully get it over your head, straightening the long fabric after you get your arms through the wide, self-made sleeve holes. He can't help but chortle at the sight of you nearly drowning in the already too-large shirt for him on you, the overworn cotton looking like an uneven, draped sheet.

You carefully scoop and roll the fabric up until it's around the same height of your hips, before reusing the forgotten about elastic to tie it in place on your side. You send him a look, biting back a grin as his expression becomes borderline sheepish. "I count you taking me to one of your favorite quiet places, so we could fully be alone and spend some quality time together romantic, yes. I also count you taking time out of your day to come over and climb through my window to ask me to go on a trip with you, gentlemanlike too. You only came over here to ask me a simple question, not to fuck around. Don't be too hard on yourself, babe. Everything we did, I wanted it to happen. I wanted to do more, to be honest."

The sheepish expression on his face turns smug, and you feign disgust before turning around to walk back over to your closet, letting out a bout of laughter once you feel the added weight of James' arms weigh down your shoulders and purposefully slow you down. You pretend to stumble, only to counteract and duck out of his hold once again, your laughter turning uncontrollable at the look of shock on his face. You toss your head back and lean against the large, wooden compartment for stability as you try to catch your breath.

"How does it feel to get got, huh?" You tease, the large and happy smile on your face nearly splitting it in half. James pauses and takes his time to answer, his eyes darting over your relaxed and delighted posture, his own feeling the lightest its felt in months, if not years. You furrow your eyebrows and go to take a step forward to check on him, only to stop in your tracks at his next words.

"It would be so easy to love you."

An insurmountable amount of different responses flit through your mind as you two continue to stand only a few feet apart and look at each other. You could laugh it off, play it off as a joke. You could reject the notion and his words entirely, cut things off before they get too serious. You could simply just walk away and forget about it all. But as you look at his earnest and open expression, you instead simply let the words that seem the most natural flow out through your still lifted and parted lips.

"As if it'd be so hard to love you."

You watch as his expression filters and stumbles through disbelief and pure vulnerability, pocketing his hands so he doesn't reach out for you, but you make your way back over to him anyway. The heels of your feet lift as you send him a comforting smile, before enfolding your arms around him. You leave an amount of leeway space in case he decides to reject the physical intimacy, and you immediately relax in his stable and secure hold as he tangles his hands in the back of his shirt on you.

"When are we supposed to be leaving for this trip?" You eventually ask, trusting the feeling that he would appreciate the change of topic, and you smile against his bare chest as he relaxes even more in your embrace.

"In like, thirty minutes, tops." You nod absentmindedly, before freezing in place and shoving yourself off of him and breaking the hold, panic rushing through you as you dart towards your closet and yank open one of the two doors. "Why didn't you say anything?" You ask incredulously, tossing a halfhearted glare over your shoulder as James guffaws and rests against the frame of the open window. You blindly grab onto anything that looks like it might match and throw it into the nearly and almost overflowing bag, only momentarily pausing to put on a random pair of jeans.

"I was a little preoccupied, and so were you." You lightly blush at the implication behind his words, a curse slipping out of you as you only remember the mess you made in between your legs as the slick sticks and slowly begins to bleed through the fabric of the dark denim. You hastily pull them down and clumsily yank them off from around your ankles, before tossing them in the direction of your laundry basket.

James clicks his tongue as he watches you fret and stress, before fully standing back up and grabbing ahold of a hand towel from the side of your makeshift closet. "Come here," he softly instructs, gently stopping you in your tracks to squat down beside you and lightly rub at the substance covering your skin. "We're going to a lake, don't have to be completely spotless for a location like that." You grin despite your worry and take in a deep breath, helpfully spreading your legs and finishing up the job on the backs of your knees.

"What about you?" You ask, a short laugh beaming out of you as your eyes travel down and zone in on the obvious wet spot near the zipper of his jeans. James pretends he doesn't see a thing, his smile coming back to at the sound of your unabashed laughter, the sound uncaring if it woke up the other oversleeping dormmates. You fold up the hand towel and walk it over to the container near your bedroom door, picking up the missed throw of denim on the way over. You lift the hair beginning to stick on the back of your neck as the sun begins to heat up the room and fully comes barreling in. "Do you have everything packet yet?"

"What could you need other than cold beer, metal music and your best friends?" He asks you, his expression deadpan and serious, before breaking out in a wide grin. "I'm just fucking with you; I've got my things in the back of one of the cars already, and I've got plenty of time to head back and get changed." You shake your head in gaiety and manage to successfully zip up your overfilled bag, barely remembering to slip on a pair of shorts and a pair of dark brown cowboy boots as you pace around and get all of your things together.

"I'll meet you outside in twenty? We're going to be riding with Cliff, said he wanted to talk to you. Jase might be coming with," You nod and try to keep your facial features relaxed, but James sees right through you. "I know you and him and Lars haven't had time to speak to each other since you walked in on our conversation a few days ago, but Cliff likes you and he wants to make things right. Lars does too, but I think he's too hungover to speak in full sentences right now." Your lips upturn at the imagined imagery of the Dane stumbling around with his hands in front of him, blindly trying to pack his things and failing, and you can't help but let out a giggle.

"It is exactly like how you're picturing it, but so much worse," he adds on through his own wide and amused grin, before holding out a hand for you to latch onto. You wordlessly make your way over and allow yourself to be tugged into a short and temporary embrace. Morning stubble nicks at your left cheekbone and leaves a pleasant sensation in its wake as James kisses each side of your temples. "I'll see you in a little while." He promises, only letting go of you once you agree and lean forward to meet him in the middle for another everlasting kiss, both of your lips stinging and surely beginning to bruise afterward.

You grab ahold of your bag and place it on the edge of your bed as you hurriedly try to reorganize your study sheets and nearly finished assigned papers, your eyes only darting up from your task to make sure James made it back outside and downstairs safely. You let out a sigh of relief once your bed is made and everything is placed back in their original folders, before heading to the bathroom to grab your essentials and quietly attempting to make your way downstairs without waking or interrupting anyone.

The small walkway to the kitchen is still unlit as you descend off of the last stair, and relief floods through you as you peer into the small living room and see that the tv is off and the front door is still closed and bolted. Your booted feet echo on the tiles of the kitchen floor as you hurriedly make your way over and crouch down to level yourself with the cabinet nearest to the bottom of the sink. You carefully place your unbagged items on the floor next to you and lie your overfilled bag down in front of them, in hopes to help stabilize your essentials and stop them from toppling over on the slightly uneven, tiled floor.

You quietly wince as you hear the crumpled plastic bags loudly shift inside of the cabinet, as you curve your fingers around the small handle and hesitantly tug it open. A small smile lifts your lips upward once you successfully manage to open it wide enough for you to be able to stick your hand inside and grab onto a small handful of the reusable shopping bags. A chill ripples throughout your upper half as your bare knees make contact with the cool floor underneath you, as you hastily kneel and quickly place your necessities in the flimsy carriers. Lightly weighed footsteps creak over your head from upstairs, and you pause in place, before using the heels of your booted feet to help stabilize you as you rock yourself back upright to stand, your hands preoccupied with your now fully bagged items.

You left shoulder runs against the discolored stretch of the wall as you try your best to avoid being seen or making noise while you walk your way past the steps, squinting your eyes to try and make sense of the outlay of the mostly dark living room. You nearly miss your footing as the side of one of your boots roughly connects with the front of the vintage ottoman near the end of the small hallway, and you force yourself not to let out a cheer as a sunbeam coming through the window nearest to you graces you with a thin patch of light for the rest of your short travel to the front door.

You wiggle your forearm until one of the plastic bags slide past your wrist bone to give you enough hand space to messily scrawl your initials on the attendance sheet thumbtacked on the wall near the main entrance and exit of the house, before glancing back down the hall to the right of you. Silence stampedes itself across the entirety of the home, and your hand is already reaching out to unlock the door before your mind can even catch up with the movement, your subconscious already acknowledging your wanting to be gone.

Warmth envelops you in a hug as you step out on the front porch and quietly close the door behind you, the deadbolt sliding back into place sounding like an audible finalization of your choice to cross the street and not look back for the next few days. And as you drop your arm back down to grasp onto the plastic handle of one of the many bags again, you do just so, walking past the large tree you had held onto for balance only a week ago.

⭒

The initial anxiety and trepidation you had felt on your first trip over to the band's house was now long gone, fully replaced by excitement for what's to come, and worried amusement as you watch Lars be haltingly dragged out the front door by Kirk, who's waving a cotton pad in front of his bandmate's face. "Just breathe it in, man." He exclaims, sending you a wide eyed look as you continue to make your way up to the top of the long driveway. You situate your bags on the uneven pavement once you do, and pace yourself over to the stressed out looking duo, the curly haired brunette immediately placing the alcohol soaked cotton in your awaiting palm as soon as you get within arms reach.

You let out a quiet hiss of sympathy as the Dane sluggishly raises his head to look up at you, before letting out a groan and stumbling forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder. "I'm sorry for being an asshole, or whatever." He slurs out, his words being half assed and nearly inaudible, but his tone laced with true sincerity and remorse. You raise an arm to lightly rub circles in his sweat clad back, sending a helpless look over to Kirk as he steps away to head back inside.

"It's alright, I know you were only trying to help," you try to console, blowing out a relieved puff of breath as Kirk reappears with multiple bags of snacks and gear, the yellow six pack of Coors being held upright underneath his chin standing out the most, as he stumbles back out and waddles to the car closest to the street. You gently brush Lars back until he's facing you, and you send him an apologetic look as you lift your hands up to hold his bobbing head in place. "Are you sure you're okay enough to come with us?" You ask, starting to feel unsettled and concerned as he lets out a hiccup instead of verbally answering you.

"He'll be fine," a rasped and humored voice speaks up from a few feet away, nearly causing you to jump and let go of Lars's face in shock. Cliff drops a heavy looking cooler near the boot of the other car, sending you a hesitant, yet comfortable smile when you glance over to find the source of the slightly familiar tone. Cliff shrugs on his blue and black checkered plaid shirt, before reaching into the cold box to grab a nearly frozen glass bottle of alcohol. "That's what he gets for day drinking, anyway." You hold back a laugh as he makes his way over to the two of you and places the frosting drink against his best friends flushed forehead, his smile turning into a dopey grin as Lars lets out a blissful sigh and leans into the frigid temperature.

Kirk steps back onto the porch to wrap an arm around his shoulders and raises a hand to hold the cold drink in place, before sending you and Cliff a grateful beam. Silence encases the two of you as he tackles his original task of guiding Lars to the car, the only sounds within ear range being the distant chirps of traveling birds and footsteps coming from within the house in front of you, as Kirk and Lars slowly walk away. You lean back against the black railing and hyper fixate on the patchy grass covering the lawn as an easy means for distraction, languidly watching as small, windblown pieces of sedimented dirt cake themselves on the sharp looking blades of bright green, as the quietness continues on.

"I'm sorry," you look back up as Cliff begins to apologize, following his lead to sit down on the warm step attached to the side of the home, his hands readily reaching down to retrieve a cigarette box from his side pocket as you settle down next to him. "Didn't mean to start anything between the two of you." He murmurs around a beige filter, your eyes tracking the repetitive movement of his palm smacking against the bottom of the opened package to settle the tobacco as he speaks.

"I understand why you said what you did," you admit, bending your knees to flatten the bottom of your boots on the dirt ground past the end of the stair. "James explained to me what happened with his ex. I would be protective of him if I were you too." Cliff shakes his head and removes the filter from in between his lips, reaching his left hand out to flick the ashes off the opposite end of the stick.

"Being protective of someone doesn't give anyone the right to sit back and talk shit, especially when the two people they're talking about and comparing are polar opposites," you let out an understanding hum and twist yourself around to face him and rest your back against the solid foundation of the wall, bringing your knees halfway up to your chest. "I know he seems fine now, but he was really fucked up about it for a while. Got into some trouble and did some things he shouldn't have done. But he's gotten a lot better, and I guess, seeing him open up to you so quickly had me worried on his behalf."

"It's hard to see the people you care for lose it after a bad situation, isn't it?" You ask, your tone turning soft as you watch Cliff's expression turn inquisitive as he looks over to you. "I had a friend from my hometown go through a similar experience, being used and then dropped when they were no longer beneficial to the other person or their lifestyle," you twist your fingers in James' t-shirt's loose material for comfort before you continue. "I've never been through that kind of situation myself, but I've seen the damage it can do to people, felt the hurt it spreads to their loved ones when they feel like they can't do anything to help."

You shake your head as Cliff opens his mouth to speak, his facial features looking apologetic and sorry. "I didn't tell you that to make this about myself or to have you feel sorry for me. I just wanted to let you know that I understand, and I would never put him in any situation or scenario that would make him doubt himself or question that I care for him." You avert your eyes and let out a shaky exhalation as you see Cliff inhale a deep one of his own through your peripheral, the momentary silence between you two feeling lighter, more at ease.

"I think you're good for him," he announces, a small smile quirking up the side of his face as he presses the stump of his earlier smoke into the concrete near his feet. You let a wide smile grace your face at his words and slowly feel your shoulders lower and relax, the earlier apprehension you had for the upcoming conversation dissipating into thin air as you take in his wholehearted blessing. "I think he's good for you too, makes it a lot easier for you to get away from those fucking squares you're forced to call roommates." A loud laugh escapes and echoes from you before you can help it, and Cliff follows it up with a chuckle of his own.

"Dormmates, actually," You playfully correct, another spell of hilarity belting itself out of you as he dramatically raises his eyebrows and fakes shock. You go to mimic his expression, but instead turn around as you hear fast approaching feet. Jason filters out of the door with impressive speed, his hair landing on his back as he lets out a groan and places his hands on his knees. You suck in a breath to hold back a laugh at the look of annoyance on his face once he spots Kirk and Lars in his car. "Are you alright?" You finally ask, using your hands for leverage as you stand up from the shallow step.

Jason lets out a groan and drops his bag on the ground next to his socked feet, before turning to the side to greet you. "Hey, good to see you, and no," his lips involuntarily quirk up as he sees you grin at his offbeat and dead sounding tone. "If Lars gets sick in my car, I'm gonna kill him."

"I don't think he's going to," you pause midsentence, pursing your lips as you follow the sound of a miserable groan, only for Lars to peek his head out of the window and suck in a greedily amount of fresh air. "Maybe you should just drive down with us." You offer instead, looking back at Cliff for confirmation, before turning around to send Jason a nervous smile.

"The more the merrier. Plus, I've got the cold beer." Jason perks up at that and nods his head towards the open door. "You had me at beer, I'll be right back," he pauses and glances over at you. "Your boyfriend's upstairs struggling to pick a swimsuit. Figured you should be the one to go and check on him, since you've probably already seen his bits." He lets out a cackle and makes his way back inside, you turning around to send a sharp look to Cliff, who's hysterically laughing and holding onto his side.

You shake your head in disbelief, the laughter building in your throat being counterproductive to the look on your face. "I thought he was the normal one." You breathe out. Cliff claps you on the shoulder, before beginning to walk his way back over to the last remaining car. "And that was your first mistake," he tosses over his shoulder, his grin still visible as he bends down to pick the cooler back up and unlock the trunk. "Go get your man and his bits, will you?" He asks you cheekily, nearly toppling over in laughter as your jaw drops in playful disbelief.

"You're all the worst." You jokingly state, before walking inside and following after Jason's echoing footsteps leading upstairs. Excitement thrums through you, even though you already saw James only a half an hour ago. You lift your hand to drape it across the polished wood of the railing as you make your way up the long distance of the staircase, and you allow it to drop back down to your side once you make it to the top.

You pause only a few feet away from James' room, your feet skidding to a halt as you're able to see enough within the small gap of his door to have your mind reeling. James paces back and forth, his mane haphazard and tangling behind him as both of his hands grip onto a small, red velvet box. You hear him let out a soft curse, before sliding it into the small compartment on the side of his bag. You take a deep breath and begin to step forward, making your footsteps purposefully loud and audible enough for him to be able to hear them through his mostly closed door.

James straightens up and greets you with a wide smile as you place a hand on his heavy wooden door and slowly push it open, forcing your own to look relaxed as you fully come into view. "You ready to go?" You ask, grateful for your voice to not be shaking. "Jason said I should be the one to come up and check on you. Something about you not knowing which swimsuit to choose, and about your bits." You exponentially calm down as he laughs and tugs you in for a short kiss, the soft feeling of his smile against your lips enough to allow you to push the thought of what might be in the box to the back of your mind.

"My bits and I are just fine, and I'm ready to go." He muses after he pulls away, wrapping an arm around your waist and using his free hand to reach down and grab onto his large bag. You look straight forward and refuse to look in the direction of it, and nearly stumble forward as James gently tugs you forward and towards the stairs.

"Are you alright?" He asks you, unwrapping his arm from around you to cup your chin instead, tilting your head up to have you look at him as he peers down at you, worried. "Your talk with Cliff didn't go bad, did it?" You vehemently shake your head and watch as he lets out a sigh of relief. Guilt churns in your gut at the fact that you saw something you shouldn't have, and before you can admit to what you did see, Jason shuts his bedroom door and makes his way over to you two, shoes now on his feet and his messy curls now controlled in a loose ponytail.

"I don't care what either one of you has to say, I'm calling shotgun." He grins out, his expression renewed and energetic as he passes by and bounds his way down the staircase with ease. You feel James lightly squeeze your delicate skin, before letting go and reaching down to grab ahold of your hand.

"You ready, baby?" He asks you, his smile stupidly wide as his calloused thumb gently caresses itself over your own. You inhale in a slow and steady breath, before side stepping and pressing your arm against his, your fingers easily finding space in between his own, the intimate touch grounding enough for you to surely and adamantly agree.

"I'm ready."

I was ready to say yes to him at any point, and to every opportunity he brought me. Whether it was spontaneous, or well thought out. Whether it was accidental, or on purpose. I would always agree. I would always say yes. And that's how we got to where we are now.

Needy Little Fucking Thing 𓍼 James Hetfield (18+)

A hiccup of a moan bellows itself out of you as partially bare hips make undeviating contact with the backs of the top of your upper, reddening thighs, the balls and heels of your shoed feet raising from the ground as strong hands lift and push you even farther up on the wooden fixture in front of you.

You gasp for breath as your boyfriend huskily expels a shuttering exhale against the exposed skin on the nape of your neck, his front pressing flush against your backside as he sheathes his entire length inside of you. Sweat trickles down from the crown of your head and creates dormancy on the sides of your flushed temples, your kiss chapped lips gaping as you feel James' hot length pulsate and weep beads of translucent precum into the precipice of your soaked heat.

Your walls incessantly flutter around him, subconsciously milking him for all he's worth, as the beginning of his shoes shuffle forward and pause underneath yours to help stabilize your unnatural position. The muscles in your calves tremble as you force yourself to not grind back and attempt to bring him even closer and deeper inside you, your bare chest heaving and hovering over the haphazard and cluttered desk now beneath you. Goosebumps litter themselves over the expanse of your overheated skin, as you feel his upturned lips rake and caress themselves over the shell of your left earlobe.

"Couldn't even wait for me to find an actual bathroom, pulled me into the closest abandoned bedroom instead," James muses, the tone in his voice playful, yet strained. Music hovers around the small crevice of free space at the bottom of the room's doorway just a few feet away from you two, and you lower your eyes in mortified embarrassment. They soon enlarge, and overstimulated tears rest upon your waterline, as one of his large palms travel up to guide you to lie your entire top half down on the cold surface, and his hips finally begin to thrust again. "Needy little fucking thing."

"Needed you." You mewl, the sound stuttered and dilapidated as his cockhead rubs and confides itself against your sensitive and spongelike spot. Your nails dig into the polished wood as he slowly extracts his arousal-soaked dick out of you, before smoothly gliding his hardened inches back inside. The repetitive cacophony of drunken laughter and overplayed music, dulls down and becomes muted background noise as James' hands travel their way upward to encircle themselves around your wrists to hold them in place.

"Needed me so badly, you couldn't even wait for me to get home," He condescendingly croons, the desperate delivery of his lust driven plunges a juxtaposition to the faux confidence in his cadence. You choke around a watery gasp as your feel your orgasm quickly approaching, the heat in your abdomen starting to feel like a coiled and tightly knotted rope. James bends down to bear a bite on your shoulder, lolling out his tongue around a satisfied sounding grunt to satiate the delicious sting. Your waterline overfills, and dewy tracks of submerged fulfillment make their way down your blazing and splotched stained, red cheeks. "Tell me what you need, baby, and I'll give it to you."

"Need to cum, need to feel you cum inside me. Fill me up." You manage, your words slurring and nearly turning into one as each impaling movement of his cock brings you closer to the edge. Your boyfriend lets out a hum, and you force yourself to stay pliant and in place as he removes his upper half from mounting your back and his hands from around your wrists. Before you can even question him, a hand is being pressed against your lower stomach to lift you up, and a thick and calloused fingertip is roughly colliding with your swollen and pearling clit.

A wail bleeds out of you as he sweeps his digit across your drenched sex and merges your limbs with his, his once desperate thrusts turning into reckless abandon. A sopping wet sound reverberates in the confined space surrounding you two, and the sensation of his dampening briefs below his raising ballsack chafing itself against your already bruising skin, disappears and becomes null. You encircle your trembling and unsteady hands around his forearms as your feet dangle on either side of his own, the aglets of his bouncing shoelaces due to his thrusts tickling the sock covered skin of your ankles as you turn your head to look at him.

Blue turned black irises encase yours in a trance like stare, and you squeeze your legs together as you feel them seize and constrict, your eyes heavily lidding as you avidly watch his facial expression crumble into a look of engulfment. You chase forward, ignoring the tinge of pain in your neck from the movement, and shakily place your lips on top of his. You swallow and accept every divot of spit laded tongue he feeds you, the tips of your shoes connecting with his as your thighs bracket and tense with oversensitivity.

"Cum for me, sweetheart," James breathes, a strangled 'fuck, you're so tight' mangling its way out as your walls vice like grip his length and swallow him in, barely giving him enough leeway space to fuck himself back into you. Thick lines of mixed saliva keep you two together as you slowly part, the heady air in the centimeters between feeling overbearing and charged with fervor. "I can feel how close you are. Want you to make a mess all over me and help me clean it up after." Your eyes involuntarily clench shut with the vivid imagery of your shaking body being placed down on your still wobbly knees, and your future self opening her mouth wide enough to lick and suck his broad girth clean.

"I can cum?" You ask, your voice heightened and overly airy as you try to hold on, fighting your body's natural instinct to curl in on itself, as James spreads your slick folds apart and lightly pinches at your clit. Your eyes snap back open as his pinky carefully makes its way inside of your opening, right on top of and with his still pivoting dick, and curls it upward to relentlessly rub the pad of his finger against your abused g-spot. White spots brighten your vision in the already nearly pitch black room, and your lips open in a silent scream as you reach and barrel into your orgasm.

"That's it, baby. Fucking perfect," he praises, his expression turning gutted and euphoric, as your release instantaneously triggers his own. Gasps pitter and fret in the chilled air as you slowly come back to, and as James slowly continues to fuck his seed into and toward your spent pussy walls and coated cervix. You twist your head back forward and rest your head against your boyfriend's chest, contentment flooding through you at his next words. "Such a good girl, listening so well."

"Taking care of me so well." You eventually rebut, once you're able to find your voice and catch your breath. A reassuring kiss is placed onto each one of your shoulder blades before you're lowered back down on your feet, and you only loosen your hold on him once you feel stable enough to stand on your own.

James lets out a quiet hiss as he carefully removes himself from inside of you, and you disappointingly grimace as you feel and watch your guys' mixed releases slowly run down the long expanse of your still twitching thighs. James gently maneuvers you around to face him, and you can't help but smile at the fucked out and pleased look on his face, his eyes blown wide and glassy, as if he was high. Large and warm palms resurface on your hips and draw you back in easily, a shy spring of laughter being shared as you both nearly trip over each other's feet in haste to get closer.

Your boyfriend bends down to level with you and brings you into a kiss, a pout forming on your swollen lips as he pulls away too soon for your liking. "As much as I'd like to stand here and kiss you all night, the party's going to be ending soon, and you didn't keep up your end of the deal just yet, doll," you lightly hum and tilt your head back, your eyebrows raising and your grin matching his own as he finishes his sentence and airs out a gentle command.

"On your knees, baby. There's still a mess you need to clean up."

(Un)Still Shots 🎞 James Hetfield (18+)

Laughter-filled vibrations reverberate through and thump against the back of your bare shoulder as James presses his elated grin into the partially disheveled hair cascading down the side of your neck, his eyebrows raised in faux surprise as he stares back at the large screen in front of the two of you. You widen your eyes and reach a hand out towards the camera, curling your fingers into a playfully threatening fist, and letting out a bout of resounding amusement as your boyfriend exhales a tickling guffaw against your slowly heating up skin.

"Won't even be able to see what's coming," James teases, his words sounding slightly muffled as his bottom lip catches ahold and sticks to the chain belonging to the necklace engraved with his initials. You tilt your head to the side and relax in his hold as he raises a hand to brush the tendrils and pieces of your mane back, your smile turning small and content as you feel them pillow against your spine and James' chin jut against your collarbone. Light, yet rough textured fingertips slowly make their way up your front and dip into the crisscrossed pattern of fabric covering and shaping your breasts, and your breath halts in your chest as his warm palm creates dormancy on your temporarily frozen sternum. "It's gotten quieter outside, less people. How about we have some fun?"

You bite back a mewl as the pad of his thumb runs itself along the expanse of your breastbone and nod, a quiet gasp barricaded behind your pinched lips as the photobooth's camera audibly shutters and takes another picture. Your heavily lidded eyes take in the look on your face, as its being reflected back to you on the touchscreen. James raises his other hand from your waist to delicately encircle it around your throat, his earlier laugh turning into a fulfilled chuckle as he watches your lips part and gape at the grounding and resolute hold. Your thighs tremble in between his as his bracket your own, the once chilled air coming from the other side of the haphazardly curtained photobooth no longer an issue or threat, as your boyfriend brings you in impossibly closer.

"Remember when we came here for the first time last summer, and we fucked around on the ferris wheel?" A petaled whimper escapes from your throat as he slides his large palm over to firmly grasp at the mound of your erect nipple and breast. You lower your head as you press yourself into the hold he has around your neck, your cheeks beginning to redden as your boyfriend lets out a condescending coo at your sudden and abrupt neediness. "Was so nervous and hesitant, until I stuck a hand underneath your skirt. Came so fast and messily, I had you lick my fingers and wrist clean," James' assured and steadfast expression and smirk is apparent in the next photo taken, nearly overtaking and shadowing the look of want on your own. "What'd we do afterwards, sweetheart? Be good and tell me."

You dazedly lick your lips and dryly swallow before answering, forcing yourself not to grind back against him, as unrelenting heat pools in your core and arousal begins to pearl and trickle at your entrance. "We ran to the bathroom, and you fucked me against the door of the closest stall," you rasp out, a slight choked breath of laughter following after from the still vivid memory. "Got caught halfway through, so we ditched the rest of the carnival and finished on the backseat of your car." James unabashedly chortles from behind you, both of you now sporting wide grins, despite the air becoming heady, and the heavy and hot bulge insistently pressing itself against the lower of your back.

"The fucking noises you made," James reminisces, guiding you back by the secure hold around your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. James maneuvers your legs wide open with his booted feet, watching hungrily as your reflected self shivers at the cold air making its way to your soaked sex. You lustfully gaze at the screen, as your boyfriend's hand slides down from your chest, and gropes and glides down to your groin and underneath your skirt. "If you can keep quiet this time, I think we'll have enough minutes left to make you cum before our meter runs out," you twist your head to the side and shove your face into his bicep as he teasingly taps against your clothed and pulsating clit, pleasured tears accumulating on your lower lashes while he flattens his palm over the entirety of your sensitized pussy. "I could always stick my fingers in your mouth, have you swallow and gag around them until you cry. Even though you're already halfway there."

You refrain from obediently opening your already salivating mouth from his words alone to make space for his fingers, and instead open it to plead. "I'll take whatever you give me, always will." You whisper, shocking yourself at the dampened sound of wanton emanating from your voice, even while it was already so quiet. You let out a muted moan once you unbury yourself from his warm side and look forward once again, the darkened irises peering back at you through the screen enough to make your slick begin to bleed through your underwear's fabric and drip down and narrowly miss your guys' sets of scuffed up and overworn boots. James' cockhead unceremoniously spurts precum against his zipper as your face comes back into view, your bitten red lips and teary eyes enough to make him nearly release, untouched, in the tight confines of his denim jeans. Your heart erratically stutters in your chest as James brings his head down to lap at your goosebump ridden flesh as a way to distract himself, your jaw slackening as his fingertips entangle themselves into the dampened fabric to tug it aside.

"Please, don't tease me." You beg, your sharp inhalation turning into a hiccupped stutter of his name once his index finger slides itself through your swollen folds, the audible sound of your arousal almost as loud as the hum coming from the bottom of the photobooth. James' mouth pops off of your clavicle, leaving red and purple hued sucked marks behind, once the desire to watch you fall apart from his touch becomes unbearable. James looks at you through the screen, enraptured. From the way your spine arches away from his front once he finally dips his ring and middle fingers into your welcoming entrance, to the way your facial expression turns pornographic once he curves them upward to purposefully rub and abuse your overly sensitive, spongelike spot. To the thick and all accommodating globs of your prerelease, that help him fasten and quicken the pace of his fingers fucking themselves into you.

"As if I'd ever tease you when you're as wet as you are for me right now, pretty girl," you hastily reach up and grab ahold of the wrist resting against your chest, the hand attached to it deliciously tightening and bringing you even monumentally closer to the edge. Your hips raise as you straighten your feet on the ground to use them as leverage to ride his fingers, the constant stimulation of your g-spot and his dirty talking and the slight air deprivation enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head, and for white streaks to color the darkened corners of what little vision you have left. "That's right doll, fucking use me. Cum all over these fingers, made to fuck in and out of you." The tightened muscles in your midsection twist and then flatten out as you reach your orgasm, your lips nearly splitting by the way your jaw widens as you needily suck in little air. James holds you upright as you quietly sob and tremble in his grasp, the hand he has wrapped around your throat, slowly disentangling itself to mold along your waist and keep you from falling down. Murmured praises are what welcome you once you come back to, your body still jolting every few seconds with oversensitivity, even after your boyfriend has already placed you back down on the wooden seat in between his legs, and your once askew, cottoned underwear are put back in place.

"You did so well for me, sweetheart, you know that?" James asks you, the side of his dimpled and handsomely acne scarred cheek raising in a soft and endeared smile as he looks down at you. You lift your right temple up from his shirt clad chest and chase after his lips, tumbling out a gasp against his lifting one's as you taste your familiar and slightly musky slick on his own. You wrap your arms around his neck and use his sturdy and broad shoulders as leverage, before swinging your shaky legs around to rest one on either side of his spread and taut legs. You lift your hips and barrel yours against his, uncaring of the painful sting it brings to your still throbbing clit. and the feeling of your ruined underwear clinging and sticking to the thick material of his jeans.

James can't do anything but pant and wildly lick into your mouth as you dry hump fuck him, his fingertips gripping the bare skin of your thighs and lifting you up as you grind up and down on his weeping and leaking, red clothed cock. The photobooth takes one last picture, and you grin into the kiss, already imagining what the photos will look like. You, nearly crying for your boyfriend to finger you, your plush lips parted open and your wet pussy soaking and making a mess of his hands, his wrist, and the floor. James' thick hands, manhandling you and keeping you in place, depriving you of air as he brings you over the edge, only in the way that he allows you to. You, nearly in a split, grinding and riding your boyfriend's clothed dick like you were choking and dying for it, as his blushing cheeks and bleary eyes stare back up at you, as he stutters out your name for a change.

"Need you to cum for me, baby," you whimper, resting your forehead against his as he lifts his hips from the wooden surface beneath you two to ground his sex as close as he can to yours, the warmth of your cum and arousal bleeding through his jeans enough to help him imagine himself being inside of you. Fucking into you nice and deep, his short nails digging into your hipbones as he chases both of your releases with reckless abandon, his mouth biting marks into your skin as close and as far as he can get. His cockhead rubbing against your cervix as you milk him dry, and as he fills you to the brim with his seed. "Cum in me, make a mess out of me. Use me, just like I used you." You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a loud gasp as your clit makes rough contact with the thickened fabric protecting his zipper in just the right way. The photobooth's lights dim and the screen compiles all of your pictures together as you orgasm for the second time, as James moans out your name and his cum mixes and connects with yours, as his hips rise with one last, aborted thrust.

Soft, exhausted pants and the sound of sweaty palms sliding against skin fill the photobooth to its precipice, before you lift your forehead from James', and you both look at each other and burst out into laughter. A clad palm envelops the nape of your neck and brings you down into a gentle and calming kiss, the duality of its nature causing you to grin into it. You lick your lips once you two part, still chasing after his taste after you already had it. James lowers his hands down to your waist, and gently places you on the seat next to him, before reaching forward to grab ahold of the printing, black and white strips of pictures. Hysterical laughter bellows out of him, and you quickly lean toward him, following suit as you take them in.

"We look like c-list porn stars." You gasp out through harsh breaths of laughter, uncaring of the rough movements of your head from James' own as you rest it against his back. Joyful tears spring to your eyes, and you shift until the photos are back in sight, your hysterical laughter tittering down to uninhibited giggles as you look at the first few of you two smiling and acting silly- to the last few, of you cumming hard against your boyfriend's fingers and palm, and you on his lap, grinding mindlessly and purposefully, as James stares up at you with wide, dilated and astonished eyes.

"Going to put these on the fridge, at the mansion." James jokes, instinctively ducking out the way as you blindly swat in his direction. Matching smiles lift both of your guys' faces, and his soon turns into a disbelieving look as you turn to look at him and ask, "Round two in the car?" James stares down at you momentarily, before shaking his head and filtering the multiple strips of photographs into a neat pile.

"If you ever have to ask me that question twice, shoot me." He says seriously, a wolfish grin taking over his features as he looks down at your incredulous expression, as you two make your way out of the photobooth and carnival, and towards the renowned and awaiting car. James lifts an arm and places it over your shivering shoulders, grinning to himself as you raise an arm in response and rest your hand on top of his. The partially quiet walk is soon interrupted by kids squealing in joy and families hastily making their ways to their own cars as the sun begins to set, yet you two couldn't feel any more carefree and content as the sounds pile on.

You huff out an amused breath as you're gently pushed back against the driver's side of his car and guided into a heated kiss, your eyes tiredly opening back up slowly once James pulls away. Before you can speak up and ask him if he's ready for another round, he beats you to it, only to ask you something that brings you both into another round of rowdy laughter, uncaring of the heads that turn to gawk and stare.

"Same time, next year, carousel?" "Yeah, why the hell not."

I don't know how to explain it to you, but I've been thinking a lot lately about 80s!James dating the most naive and sensitive girl to ever walk this earth. Like, sensitive in every way. Specifically with loud music (loud sounds in general) and very crowded places. She loves making colorful bead bracelets and giving them as gifts, and James loves teasing her, teasing her in any way. So much so that at the beginning of the relationship, this was a problem 'cuz she always cried when he got the name of a stuffed animal she had wrong... y'know what i'm saying? (I would love to read something like this written by you, something that follows this line i hope it doesn't sound so stupid)

80s!James and hypersensitive!girlfriend headcanon

⭒ James was initially hesitant to introduce himself and talk to you when he first saw you, after seeing how sensitive, shy and naive you appeared to be around your guys' mutual group of friends. He only made his way over once he saw you were being bothered by someone who was an obvious plus one, his earlier doubt and delay dissipating once he acknowledged how uncomfortable you looked.

⭒ What started off as a mindless and minor threat being thrown at an already fully drunk and nearly close to blacking out stranger for you, slowly turned and evolved into a mutual agreement, a friendship, and then eventually, a relationship. You would subliminally intercept any girls James didn't seem like he'd be interested in talking to on his own, and in return, he'd make sure you were left alone and as far away from the party's speakers as physically possible- him purposefully keeping the flinches you made whenever the cacophony of beats would accelerate and blare from them, and when too many people brushed against and bumped into you, in mind.

⭒ One night, the mansion was too overcrowded, and you were almost shaking in fright. Your breathing became labored once you realized James was no longer in sight, and you didn't see it possible for you to be able to escape the situation by using the front or back doors of the house. So, you did what you thought would be the second-best option. You fled upstairs. Your legs nearly collapsed beneath you, and the friends that had dragged you back here once again, slowly disappeared and became smaller in the ever-growing pit with every uncertain step you took further upstairs. Before you could have searched for a bathroom or an abandoned bedroom, James came turning towards the staircase you were ascending on. You quickly loosened your death grip from around the wooden railing and instinctively pushed yourself forward, directing yourself into the taller man's chest.

⭒ James took you in his arms for the first time with careful hands and ease, already knowing from your trembling frame that you were on the verge of having a panic attack. The ringing in your ears dwindled down to a constant back burner of a buzz as he guided you up the last few stairs, and toward his bedroom. Before your impending embarrassment could overwhelm you, or you could attempt to apologize, James guided you to sit down on the edge of his bed and took your unsteady fingers and intertwined them with his. That was the first night and time James proved to you he could be there for you, as long as you would allow him to be. "I'm right here, and you'll be alright," he whispered to you, his tone confident, yet gentle. A warm pad of a thumb traced the ridge of a line on the inside of your sweat clad palm, light blue irises grounding you as you fought to control your erratic and painful heaves of aborted exhalations. "Take a deep breath for me, come back to me. That's it."

⭒ But you were there for him as well. Your hypersensitivity allowed him to feel comfortable enough around you to be vulnerable. On the occasional nights you were invited back to the mansion or coerced back by your friends, you both found solace in each other's company. You'd lie in bed with him as music and drunken cheers continuously barreled on downstairs, listening intently as he confided in you about his own anxieties. About his fears of the band growing too big too fast, his fear of the band falling apart, and him losing his best friends and members because of it. His anxieties that came with him not being able to control what was happening around him, and to himself. You'd steadily hold onto his hand and run your fingers through his disheveled mane, while he'd lie his head on your shoulder and grip the fabric of your shirt, like it was his one and only anchor. And on certain overwhelming and exhausted days for him, it was. Other and often times, conversation would be lighthearted, hysterical laughter lifting the weight from both of your guys' shoulders as you each took turns exposing small parts of your opposite personalities through embarrassing stories from the past. You both would share books and overly folded and torn pages from magazines, you being teased every time you realized you were tricked into looking at a Playboy, your cheeks a blazing bright red, and James' smile wide and boyish and youthful. Handsome, even.

⭒ The first time James invited you over during the day, he surprised you by instead taking you out to the carnival. Your usual fear of large crowds and loud sounds was mostly taken care of, as James made sure to have you both arrive early and be the first in line before they even opened up that morning. Every time someone ran too close by you or screamed a little too loud, he'd wrap an arm around your shoulders and distract you with a new game, or gently guide you away to someplace quieter. Your heart fluttered in your chest for the first time after he won you the first of many stuffed animals that day, the proud and soft look on his face as he handed it over to you was forever imprinted in your mind. A branded memory that you held close to you.

⭒ "Please don't cry, sweetheart, you know I was just fucking around. Of course, I remember the name of your favorite, childhood stuffed tiger. His name was Lucky!" He tried to reassure you, after you began to cry at the idea of him forgetting something so monumental and important to you. Translucent tears cascaded themselves down your flushed facial features, as James absentmindedly bent down to place a consoling kiss on the precipice of your forehead. You both froze in place, before stuttering out twinned, awkward bouts of shy laughter. You gripped the hind legs of your pig stuffed animal and averted your eyes, hoping your erratic heartbeat and the butterflies clashing in your midsection weren't audible enough to make it up to his ears. Insurmountable relief flooded through you, as a calloused and ringed finger delicately tapped itself on one of the many beaded friendship bracelets covering the entirety of your left wrist. "How about you make me one of these, and we'll call it even after I win you a few more of these little guys?" James let out an amused sounding guffaw once he expertly ducked away from one of your usually soft and painless punches, after his next words playfully aggravated you. "I'll even let you name one of them Lucky Jr."

⭒ The sun was lowering itself in the sky, by the time James braked and parked in front of your family's dimly lit home. You wrung your hands together in your lap, undecided and contemplating on whether or not you should be the one to speak up first. You nearly jumped in your seat, after his voice lightly reverberated in the small confines of the car. "I had a good time." James announced, as his stomach muscles tightened, and his fingertips whitened underneath the pressure he exuded around the steering wheel. You squeezed your knees together and nodded, hoping none of your new gifts would slide away and make contact with the floor. "I did too, thank you for taking me." You murmured in response, warmth filling your chest as you watched James grin, despite his body language being a juxtaposition to the action. You sucked in a shuttering breath as he leaned over you to push your door open, the ends of his dirty blonde hair coming down in waves to caress the side of your bare forearm, as he fully made his way back into the driver's seat once again. "Since you don't feel comfortable with men walking you up to your front door." He joked, his smile slowly falling as he watched your eyes rake all over his face, as if they were now only taking him in for the very first time. The words you spoke next, stole all of the oxygen that resided in his being. "You're not just a man, James. To me, you are so much more than that." James sat still in place for a long moment after you whispered a goodnight and took action to make your way outside of the vehicle, dazedly waving back at you after you tossed a halfhearted one behind your back, before clumsily footing your home's front door open- with your hands fully occupied with his prizes, your gifts. He lowered his head down with a resounding groan, not even flinching as his forehead made contact with the cool to the touch, worn-out leather covering and stretched around the steering wheel. God, he was so fucked. He was falling in love with his best friend. Little did he know, so were you.

⭒⭒ "Did you run out of beads, or something?" He asks you, a seemingly permanent upward quirk on his lips as he leans forward and over the center console separating the two of you in his car, helpfully twisting his limb as you triple knot the braided fabric around his much larger wrist. You absentmindedly shake your head no, biting back a smile of your own as you hear him let out a confused, yet content sound. "Everyone else has beads, I wanted this one to be different." You admit, inwardly shying away after you raise your eyes, and they meet his own. James keeps his eyes set on you for a second too long, before looking down at the bracelets you made once again. Yours is a sage green, interconnected and intertwined with small, yellow flowers. His, a light blue, with a deeper shade of flowers making their way around the entirety of the fabric, yellow dots of color embracing the inside of each one, causing them to stand out even more against his healthily tanned, soft skin.

"You wore a sage green and yellow dress on the night we met for the first time." James verbalizes and realizes, as the image of you pops in his head. Your shaky smile and wide eyes, as he watched you try to get away from the man harassing you near the sound system. Your smile turning genuine and soft, as he asked if you were alright, and when he playfully came up with a way for you to help him back for the rest of the night. Your light titter of amusement, and finally, your nod of agreeance. The soft looks you two shared throughout the rest of the duration of the party, and the murmured goodnights you two parted with, you both being reluctant to separate and walk away.

Your bitten back smile turns into a wide grin as he vividly remembers your first meeting from all those months ago, your left hand resting on top of his wrist. Your fingertips absentmindedly shift the backing to the side so that the front would be fully visible, as James tentatively flickers his eyes back up to yours. "I wasn't wearing light blue that night, was I?" He asks you. You slowly inhale and straighten up in the passenger side seat, your free hand anxiously beginning to tug at the bottom hem of your t-shirt. You nervously lick your lips and shake your head no, missing your best friend's eyes as they helplessly follow after the movement.

"The light blue represents your eyes," you begin and confess, a small flicker of hope lighting anew in your gut, as James sucks in a deep breath and shifts closer. "I was making mine over the past few days, and what you wore didn't matter to me, not as much at the color of your eyes did," your hair falls free as you lift your head from against the headrest, lowering your hand from your shirt to use it as leverage to push yourself flat against the console. "Your eyes were the first thing I noticed about you when we first met, and you calmed me down. And now they're the first thing I search for whenever I know you'll be around."

A warm and large hand reaches forward to cup your nape as James whispers out your name, the softness in his tone enough to bring tears to your eyes. You blurrily blink as silver rings etch themselves in the tendrils of your locks, and as he slowly guides your head forward. The wake of goosebumps gather and multiply on your wrist as it makes contact with the divider, as James brings his other open palm up to delicately caress your cheekbone. Light and royal blue and yellow make safe haven in your right eye's peripheral as you're held in the most gentle way, and as your best friend looks down at you with his own set of blown, wide open eyes.

"If I'm reading into this wrong," James trails off, his expression turning into a grimace at the thought alone. You look back at him with longing, before lifting your hand from the console and encircling it around his wrist nearest to your face. He expels a sigh of relief at the familiar warmth in the smile you send his way, ignoring the pressure against his ribs as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. A light breath of a laugh is breathed out in the small space between you two, and you squeeze his wrist in reassurance, feeling alive and understood at the feeling of his incessant and abnormal heartrate pulsing beneath your fingertips. "How are you the one confessing first? I thought you were the shy and oversensitive one."

Your smile is overabundantly large as James kisses you before you can answer, the fabric of your guys' bracelets rubbing against each other as you press your lips on his and savor the feeling and taste. You both don't pull back until you're gasping for air, and as soon as you both reopen your eyes and look at each other once again, laughter ensues. You rest the weight of your head in his palm connected to your nape and look up at him gently, a sigh of contentment making its way out of your plush and kissed red set. Those same light blue irises from that first night, peer back down at you, filled with adoration and devoted conviction. "I think you confessed to me a long time ago, I was just too nervous to acknowledge it," you speak into the charged and electrified air surrounding you two. You unlatch your hand from around his wrist to raise it and graze the pads of your fingertips against his smile doted skin, and his lifted, already swollen lips. "You once told me to come back to you when I was having a panic attack, but I don't think I ever left. I think I'm always present when you're around. You bring it out of me."

James damply and disbelievingly chuckles, before placing a trembling kiss to your fingertips. You gently detach and wipe away a stray tear from the corner of his right eye, a few of your own already making their way down your jawline. "I love you; you know." You confess through a mused grin, the tone in your voice easy, because admitting it now was the easiest thing in the world. James beckons you forward once again, kissing you breathless before admitting his love back to you, although you already know what his next words will be.

"And God, do I love you."

⭒⭒⭒ Bright lights, heavy bass and thousands of screaming fans erupt from around you, yet all of your prior anxieties and worries are gone as you watch James and the rest of Metallica perform on stage, the partial noise cancelling headphones you're wearing giving you enough balance and security to be able to fully enjoy yourself. You lean back against the barricade and smile widely, the pride and joy you have for them nearly beaming out of your chest, as you look at the fruition and proof of all of their hard work over the past few years.

James' voice bellows out the next few lines of the song, before he makes his way over to the edge of the center stage, and squats down in front of you, his mouth outstretched in a euphoric and blissful smile. Something he always deserves to wear. He cheekily raises his left hand, and you do the same, the light and royal blue gemstones in his engagement ring shining just as brightly as your sage green and yellow ones. You both share muted I love you's, the sounds of cheers and sung back lyrics too loud for your guys' indescribable joy to be audible. But you both know how true the words you mouth back to each other are.

You twist the gold-plated jewelry around your ring finger as you sing along with the crowd, fully embracing the experience, and all that is yet to come.

As long as you had James by your side, and James had you, you two were prepared for anything.

(note: your request was so much fun to write, and it wasn't stupid at all. don't doubt yourself, babe! i hope i did it justice and you enjoy it ♡)

Counterproductive Tendencies ✩ James Hetfield

⭒ introductory, part one, part two, part three ⭒ (wordcount: 7.8k )

Part four of multiple: Lakeside Views and Imminent Goodbyes (Part Two) (18+)

Mentions/Warnings: cliff jumping, partial skinny dipping, explicit sexual content, oral sex (both receiving)

Yellow-tinged sunlight beams itself upon your mostly bare thighs as you slump backwards and rest your head against solid and warm, large palms. Thick and calloused, ring-clad fingers, run their way through your baby hairs, as Cliff and Jason haphazardly argue and banter back and forth over the soft onslaught of metal music melodizing through the car's aged speakers- the warming up air traveling through the partially rolled down windows barely being enough to keep the confined space of the car from becoming too condensed and unbearable, from the heat radiating off and through the front windshield's window alone. Empty beer bottles rattle and collide together near James and Jason's feet, the sound emanating from them sounding like windchimes, a peaceful juxtaposition to their raising voices and the line of traffic multiplying and growing behind your guys' car.

"How much longer do you think we've got left, if you estimate it?" Jason asks again, his last few words sounding muffled as he slides his bottom lip in between his front teeth to hold back his already poorly hidden bout of laughter. You rush to raise a hand up to your own mouth to conceal your wide and amused grin, the small burst of laughter residing in your throat just barely being kept inside as Cliff tosses an incredulous look over his right shoulder. "Because not only was I not allowed to ride shotgun, but I was also lied to about how long it'd take for us to get down to the lake."

"We've barely even been in the car for more than twenty minutes, you not-so-little shit," Cliff snips back as an answer, even as the side of his mouth involuntarily quirks up to show his true reaction to his newest bandmate's playful complaints and questioning. "Keep on bitching, and I'll strap you to the front and let you sunbathe with the gnats." James leans forward and presses his own mirthful smile against the back of your head, his hands and arms sliding down to wrap and encircle themselves around your front to bring you in even closer. You lower your head to place a kiss on his nearest wrist, your eyes almost closing in bliss as you're squeezed back in a nonverbal answer and reassurance, and fully embraced.

You jolt forward instead and widen your eyes as the car harshly brakes, and disbelieving laughter fills the sudden silence in the shocked space. Kirk tosses a rushed and apologetic arm out the driver's side window of Jason's car as they fully emerge themselves in front of Cliff's and continuously speed forward, Lars' uninhabitable and unhidden screech of adrenaline filled merriment still coherent and audible as they hurriedly pass by. James' embrace turns into a secured and protective grip as Cliff curses out loud and barrels his foot into the accelerator, perspiration accumulating on your chest and lower back as you force yourself to calm down and suck in a deep breath.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" James asks you in a worried murmur, his tone soft and placating, while his arms continue to hold you in a near, vicelike manner. You nod dazedly and extend your hands to hold onto his forearms, slow grins growing on the guys' faces as your deep inhalations turn into dumbfounded and astounded chortles. The tense air in the car quickly tethers and breaks at the sound, and James coerces himself into slowly relaxing his hold around you. You lean back in the front seat and prop your head up against his left shoulder, as Cliff manages to pass Kirk and Lars and waves a blind middle finger in their direction.

"Five dollars Lars had his foot on the pedal." Jason bets, his attention now on the comic book splayed open on his lap, his words coming out lazily as warm, pillowed puffs of air loosen the hold the elastic has around his hair. James purses his lips and finds Cliff's eyes in the rearview mirror, only airing out his side of the bet once Cliff shakes his head. "Ten they were trying to open cans of Coors, and Kirk forgot he was the one driving." You shake your head in amusement and sigh in relief as the tendrils of hair once sticking to your cloying neck, blow free over the tops and expanse of James' biceps. Cliff meets you halfway with an exasperated look, as Jason ups the amount and James lets out a scoff, before doubling it.

"You already regretting crossing the street and knocking on our door?" He kiddingly asks you, the drawl in his voice amused and low as he leaves Jason's car behind and intercepts his way into another lane on the highway. Hard blasts of stale, spring air whip against the sides of his car as you send him a large grin, and delicately graze your thumb against the beauty mark situated on James' left elbow. Soft, hushed murmurs of folk music cascade through the small gaps of the car's windows from another nearby, as you easily and readily divulge your response, the answer being automatic.

"Never."

⭒

The guy's gradually quiet down as the lake comes into view, and you slowly raise your head from James' shoulder to look around in silent, stunned awe. Sun ladened diamonds shine and dance their way across the acres-long expanse of water, as lilies and pickerelweed plants and flowers brightly and colorfully stand tall at the precipice of the waterline, while simultaneously making their way across the entirety of the water's edge. Cicadas chirp from the surrounding trees, and birds expressively speak to each other as Cliff brings the car to a stop. Your hand is wrapped around the passenger side's door handle before it's even placed in park, your awe turning into excitement with every second that passes by as you take everything in.

James is barely able to disconnect from you, before you're rushing out of the car and glancing around with a wide smile, his soon matching your own as he takes in your giddy expression and enlarged eyes. Jason places his comic book to the side, before sliding off and out the backseat, and unevenly stepping onto the sun-marked and stained pebbles and rocks. He makes his way over to the back of the car and leans against the trunk next to Cliff, them sharing a knowing and content glance as James walks over to you.

"James has had a box in his room for the past few days, and I'm pretty sure he brought it here with him today." Cliff says in a quiet tone, his eyes only gliding away to look at a bee landing on top of a lotus-covered, lily pad. Jason peers forward as Kirk and Lars skid to a halt only a few feet away from them, his eyebrows sarcastically raising as they both shout out a muffled sorry over the car's still running engine.

"I came down earlier, after I saw him holding onto it. That's why I called her upstairs. I was hoping he'd give it to her already. Even though I don't know what the hell's inside." Cliff grins to himself as Jason loudly whispers, the few beers he had earlier becoming apparent in the way he wasn't able to keep his voice down. Luckily, Kirk slammed his door shut at the same time, and Cliff pushes himself off the bumper to make his way over to his sheepish looking best friend.

"I almost totaled my car because of you." He teases, purposefully making his tone hard, and bites back a laugh as the other immediately begins to stutter out an apology. "I swear, it wasn't my fault. At least, not all the way. Lars almost spewed, and he thought drinking was the only way to curb his hangover, so he reached down by the gear shift to grab a can of beer," Kirk rubs at the back of his neck and looks away as Lars stumbles his way out of the passenger's side, drunkenly raising a thumb after he manages to land on his feet and shut the door on his own. Jason lets out a groan, before begrudgingly making his way over to help steady the Dane. "I may have also forgotten I was the one driving, but only for a second." Cliff softens his expression as Kirk looks up at him worriedly, raising a hand to pat him on the back as his friend attempts to begin to apologize again.

"I'll call us even, but only if you help me get this shit out of the trunk, and help me get all of these tents built," Cliff offers, watching with an amused grimace as Jason bends over to turn the key in his car's ignition to off, letting out a string of curses as Lars tries to jump on his back at the same time. "I don't think the rest of the guys are going to be much help. Not until they sober up, at least." Kirk gloomily looks over at the boot of the car, before nodding. He soon lets out a groan once he opens the trunk and the contents nearly pop out all at once and tumble over.

"What about James?" Kirk asks petulantly, the tone in his voice bordering on a whined out exhale. Cliff silently nods his head towards the couple making their way down the stone path, near the entrance of the woods. "They've only got so many days left together, before we hit the road again," Cliff begins, reaching forward to heave a large, still boxed and unassembled, tent kit out of his car. Kirk winces at the echo the box leaves behind, as it makes contact with the rough grounding now underneath it. "We should let them have an easy time, before things become less easy and harder on the road. You know how things can get, have gotten." Dark curls tickle his shoulders as Kirk bends down to lift the cooler and store bags instead of verbally answering, only sending his friend and bandmate a dismissive look over the condensate-covered container once he's fully stood back up.

"Things will be better for him this time, for all of us," Kirk affirms, closing the trunk with finality once everything is piled up outside of the car and its earlier compartment. All except for one bag. "If he's doing this well, while already knowing how much little time they've got left together, he'll be fine once they're separated and doing their own shit." Kirk tilts his head to the side, watching as you two share a smile and walk your way into the wooded area. The usual weight he has on his chest while thinking of James alone on tour, suddenly feels light. Cliff looks away as Jason and Lars clumsily make their way on over, him sending them a grateful smile, as they cautiously bend over and seemingly pick up the lightest and easiest things left to carry.

Cliff nods in the direction of the flattest looking grassy area, and drops down in a squat, allowing a laughter lined smile to temporarily push his worries away, as the guys playfully gasp at the sight of him taking out his switchblade. He digs it into the side of the box, and then turns around to face them once again, his smile turning cheeky as he watches two out of three of his best friends let out a groan at the thought of having to move around anymore than they already have.

"Alright. Let's get even."

⭒

Small and uneven pieces of stone and gravel scatter beneath yours and James' boots as you two make your way even farther down the path and fully into the woods, the hot and incessant sun and its following heat temporarily being blocked by the tall trees' branches and leaves now covering you two. James grins widely as you playfully shove him to the side, before readjusting the already too large, self-cut off sleeves of his shirt back onto your shoulders. You unsuccessfully hide your own as his fingers find purchase on your shoulder blades once again, the pads of his warm fingertips dipping underneath the fabric of his t-shirt to lightly dance across your heated up and already tanning skin.

"I'm just trying to make sure you aren't hurt, baby. That's all." James playfully insists, his grin turning into a smirk as he feels the chill that runs its way down your spine from his simple touch alone. You hum noncommittedly, trying to coax yourself into coming off as relaxed. Your breath gets caught in your chest as the trees eventually disappear, and an even more beautiful sight than before comes into view. You two stand only a few feet away from the edge of a much taller drop into the lake, a rosebush on each side of the precipice a beautiful arrangement of pink and purple. You extend your arm, and only move forward once you feel James' long fingers intertwine with your own. You allow yourself to be gently tugged and tucked into his side, your joined hands being held behind your back as he places a kiss on your dampened temple.

"I can't believe you just randomly found a place like this on your own." You breathe out, your tone incredulous and heavy with wonder. James' next words make your cheeks wildly color, and you cant your head back to look into his eyes. "I only found this part of the path after I met you, actually." Your eyebrows furrow as you watch him get lost in thought, and as his smirk falls down into a slightly downtrodden expression. You lift your free hand and use your open palm to rest it upon his jawline, holding onto him as he peers down at you, suddenly looking tired.

"Hey, what's going on up in there?" You ask quietly, not wanting to interrupt the moment by accidentally raising your voice or talking too loudly. James shakes his head, and then hesitates, the hand holding your own coming loose enough to reach forward and grip onto the fabric of his shirt around you instead. "I thought I was alright with the idea of going back on tour and us doing long-distance, but I don't think I am," he confesses, bringing his other hand up to encapsulate it with the one currently cradling the side of his face. "The last few days without seeing you have been terrible enough on their own as is, I can't imagine a few days turning into a few months."

Realization dawns on you, and you can't help the soft coo that finds its way out of you. You gently turn your hand around in James' own and wrap your smaller palm around his, before beckoning him towards a higher leveled rock. Watery, blue irises meet yours as you sit him down and make your way onto his lap, his free arm instinctively wrapping itself around your middle to bring you flush against his front. "I'm not going anywhere." You start, your tone coming out as matter of fact. You place a delicate kiss on the side of his mouth before he can rebut, wanting more than anything for your physical touch to be more than enough reassurance that you're still here, and that you always will be.

"Where am I now?" You ask him, his lips twitching upward as the question reminds him of the ones he had asked you earlier this morning. "You're right here, with me." He answers throughout a small and gentle, growing smile.

"And where will I be when I'm not able to be there with you physically?" You whisper, your lips brushing against his as you press your palm on his bare chest, resting it against the skin covering his fast-beating heart. "Right here, a phone call away, a letter away, maybe even a ticket if we're lucky," you lift yourself up on your knees to rest your forehead against his, before continuing. "It's not like I won't miss you, won't want you close, but we can still make this work. I'm here with you, whether you're across the street, or across the country. So, please, be here with me. While I still have the opportunity to have you in my arms. While we still have the opportunity to experience new things together." James swallows thickly and murmurs his own agreeance, before tilting your head down with his thumb, and lowering you into a devouring, passionate kiss.

Your lips audibly shift against his with every slick and breathed out moan, your fingers molding themselves into his sweat clad skin, while his own reach down to caress small circles around the fingerprint marks he left behind only a few hours ago. Warmth awakens within your gut as you feel James subconsciously buck his hips forward, and as the soft fabric of his swimming trunks brush against the rough texture of your denim covered zipper. As you hungrily swallow down his gasped out exhale, an aborted exclamation tears itself out of your chest as a cheeky sounding throat clears itself from behind you, only a few feet away.

You squeeze your eyes shut as a drunken laugh reverberates and echoes over to you two, the sound of a bag being placed on the ground following soon after. You groan in mortification as Lars speaks up, the amusement in his voice making his accent thicker and richer with every word he forces out through choked back titters. "Kirk made me walk this out and over to you nasty fuckers, since I'm apparently still too out of it to help them build the tents," you brave a look over your shoulder and immediately blaze red as you two make eye contact, your shoulders dropping and hunching forward as you twist back around to bury your face into James' neck. James sends his best friend a glare, before nodding his head towards the path's walkway. Lars raises his hands in faux surrender, beginning to stumble as he starts to walk backwards. "Don't know if there's any condoms in your girl's bag, but I do know that she at least brought a yellow towel." Lars holds back a grin as he hears you let out a muffled and embarrassed sound, tilting his head down towards your bag once he's sure you aren't looking, and mouths bikini to James, before fully turning around.

"Fuck off." James spits, hiding his own amusement at being caught behind his urge to get Lars away to make you feel more comfortable. The Dane's laughter is still audible after the sound of his footsteps subside, and you only raise your head once James begins to fully sit back up again and gently taps at your backside.

"I'm never going back out there again," you declare, running a hand through your hair as you shift yourself back to sit on the heels of your booted feet. "I'll just swim home, I brought a bikini for a reason." James can't help the loud burst of laughter that fights its way out of him at your defeated tone and Lars' earlier mention, and you can't help but to dissolve into giggles at the hilarity of the situation. Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle to catch your breath, it hitching in your chest once you blink them away and catch onto the look James sends your way. Oceanic colored joy shines around his dilated pupils as he watches you finish up your bout of laughter, and heartfelt warmth fills the entirety of your chest as you finally make sense of the look you're being gifted with. Love.

You glance down at your bag, feeling overwhelmed. Your hands shake at your sides as you try to come to terms with everything coincidingly happening at once. You and James making things official, Cliff approving of you, you seeing James with a small, jewelry box. James, your now boyfriend, looking at you with so much love. You force yourself not to run, to not backtrack, and you send him a small smile, before rising to your feet.

"You agreed to experience new things with me while we have the time, chance and the opportunity to, right?" You ask, relief flooding through you as James looks up at you openly, albeit a bit confused, before nodding. Your smile widens as he immediately takes your hand once you outstretch it towards him, and he quickly chokes out your name as his shirt is tossed over your head and onto the now newly abandoned rock.

You take a step aside as you reach back to unlatch the clasps holding your bra together, your smile turning shy as you watch your boyfriend's jaw slacken and lower at the sight of you. "Go swimming with me?" Your bra straps just barely graze your forearms before he's vehemently nodding his head yes, his cheeks burning a bright red.

⭒

Heated stone burns the backs of your upper thighs as you dangle your feet over and off the edge of the large rock and its cliff, hiding your doubt and hesitation as James tosses your bag down to the side of the lower level of foundation, the eventual landing of the carrier sounding long and far away. Your bikini straps lightly dance around your upper back as you graze your calves against the smooth moss collecting around a part of the overhang, sending James a nervous glance once he straightens up, his own expression now bright and excited.

"When I offered to go swimming, I didn't mean cliff diving." You murmur, sucking in a deep breath as you peer down to see how far your feet are from the actual body of water. James hides his grin behind his hair, before squatting and sitting down next to you, his bare shoulder caressing your own as he does so. "And if you're nervous, you can just say so." He rebuts, his tone teasing. His eyes rake over your form as you begin to tense up, his amused smile turning gentle as he watches you stutter in an uneven exhale. Your breath evens out as his warm palm raises and steadily runs itself down the middle of your spine, the cool temperature of his rings making you feel familiarized, as you slowly peel your eyes away from the main source of your anxiety.

"We don't have to do this if you aren't ready or comfortable, babe," he reassures you, his thumb delicately dipping into the natural curve of your back as you lean and arch into his touch. "We can just walk back down the path and past the boys. There's a lower level down there, and I'm sure one of the guys can join us, if that'll make you feel more safe and secure about it." Your lips shakily lift at his caring proposal, before immediately shaking your head no and dragging your now bare heels across the solid surface beneath you.

"Lars has probably told everyone that he walked in on us having sex on top of the first solid surface we saw already." You respond around a small huff of laughter. James can't hold back his own sound of amusement, and you both fall into a small moment of silence, before he slowly extracts his touch and inches his way forward. You follow after him, reaching down to tightly grasp onto his right hand as your backside makes contact with the slippery ridge. James turns his hand around, palm facing the sky, and intertwines your damp digits with his, before twisting to the side to place a kiss on the middle of your neck placatingly.

"Don't look down, look at me," He instructs you, squeezing your hand in his and sending you a proud smile as you do so. He tilts his head toward the water. "The water's only fifteen feet deep, and the jump is even less than that. I know it seems scary now, but I promise you, I'll be right next to you the entire time. And if it at any point feels like too much, just hold onto me, and I'll keep you from going in too deep." You nod along with his words, your heartbeat regulating in your chest and your fingers relaxing in his hold as you look up into his affirming gaze.

"I won't ever let you fall on your own or stray too far away from me." He promises, his words sounding heavier than intended, like a double meaning commitment. You ease back and then straighten up, your eyes momentarily leaving his to glance back down at the lake, no longer feeling overwhelmed, as a gentle ripple accumulates itself into a small wave just a few yards away from you two. "I trust you." You hearten, looking back at your boyfriend just in time to see the way in which your words affect him. James' smile widens and he takes in an enlarged, heavy breath, his pulse skittering underneath his wrist, which is directly pressed up against your own.

"And I trust you." He echoes back, his tone the most gentle and vulnerable thing. You elongate your thumb to brush it against his index finger's second knuckle, before nodding and bending your ankles back to brace yourself for the quick jump and drop. "Let's do this." You grin, your anxiety now long gone, as adrenaline and security run through you instead.

Your thighs touch as you two prepare yourselves at the precipice, and you two share an excited smile, before using your free hands as leverage to lift and push yourselves off the mount and edge of the rock. James' bright laughter is the last sound you coherently hear, before you stretch out and make contact with the lake's water.

Your feet kick underneath you as you fully submerge, the cold water awakening goosebumps on your skin as you relax your body and allow yourself to naturally float back up. Ripples of crystallized sunlight greet you as you reopen your eyes right before your head reaches the top, and you gasp in a delighted breath of fresh air as you resurface. Joyous titters bubble themselves out of you before you can help it, and you whip your head around to find James, only to have the sounds muting and freezing in your throat as you seemingly find yourself alone. Before you can even call out for him, a hand encircles itself around your left ankle, and yanks you back under.

You panic and thrash, only to huff as your eyes find his underwater, the first few feet of water illuminated enough by the sun to see his grin a few inches away from you. You reach a hand out to shove at his shoulder, before wiggling your leg free and swimming back up to the top. Droplets make their way down your forehead and temples as James cackles next to you, his hair clinging to the sides of his face and making him look even more youthful as he laughs. You forcefully whip your hand underneath a wave in his direction and bellow out a laugh as a sizeable splash of water directly smacks him in the face.

"Oh, you're gonna get it." He playfully gravels, his smile jubilant and euphoric as he reaches his arms and hands out to grab onto you. You shriek and halfheartedly attempt to break free, fully relaxing in his grasp as his hands slide down to rest upon your hips instead of assumingly pulling you back under or tickling you. Your arms encircle themselves around his shoulders, and you hold back a shiver as you're lifted out of the water and placed onto the cornerstone next to your bag. James slides himself between your legs and rests a forearm on each of your knees, a nervous laugh of yours echoing in the air as he places a brush of a kiss against your wet, bare stomach.

"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers against you, his bottom lip caressing the skin beneath your bellybutton as he speaks. Your thighs begin to tremble as his arms slide back down into the water, and his large palms hold your legs wide open instead. A whine tears itself from your chest as his tongue travels down to the beginning of your bikini bottom, the whine turning into a moan as he turns his head to the side to bite the tied knot free on the side of your striped material. Once blue turned onyx irises peer up at you as you push the hair from clinging to the side of his face back past his shoulders, the sun barreling heat down on your reddening face as one of his hands slide up to rest upon your upper thigh. "Still trust me?" He asks, his tone turning husky as he watches the now free material bare another inch of your skin to him, and as your nipples harden and petal from your newly, onset arousal.

You needily nod, your clit beginning to pulsate behind the nylon as his right hand reaches up to push it to the side, your breath halting as he lets out a curse as soon as your sex is finally visible. "Even prettier than I thought it'd be." He nearly moans out, sounding drunk. You can barely blink, before he's descending down upon you, and running the entirety of his thick and hot tongue through your folds. Your fingertips press into his skull as he skillfully takes you apart, your stomach muscles tightening and convulsing as you fight back the urge to scream his name. Thick rings press themselves in your skin to hold you in place as you writhe, and your head falls back to rest upon your partially open bag as the tip of his tongue slides up to lap at your clit.

"James," you sob, your pussy beginning to throb and become hypersensitive as his free hand comes up to rub its fingertips against your sopping wet entrance. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he slowly pushes and curves a finger into your tight heat, a strangled and wet sound clawing its way out of your chest as he finds your g-spot on his first attempt. Overstimulated tears lie on the edge of your lash lines as he lifts his head from you, your wetness leaving a thick glaze on his chin as he looks up at you, a second finger entering you as he watches you fall apart right in front of him. "Please."

"What do you need, sweetheart?" He coos, his voice sounding unaffected, while his chest heaves and his tongue peeks out like a man starving to lick at whatever it can reach beneath his bottom lip. James moans as he feels your walls constrict against his middle and ring fingers, his swollen lips lifting as your hips raise from the rock to try and ride them. "Need me to finger fuck you a little bit faster, don't you? So fucking needy for me. I knew you'd taste and look like a dream once I finally got the chance to be alone with you. Look at you now, doing and being so good for me." Your eyes roll back in your head as he crooks his digits upward, your heels you've been using to help you thrust sliding down and weakening as his second knuckles nudge against your sponge-like spot relentlessly.

"I just need you, always just need you." You answer through unadulterated and hiccupped mewls, no longer caring about if the other boys could hear you as you get closer to orgasming. James lowers himself back down onto you before he can mutter the few words dying to make their way out of his mouth, making his appendage useful as he sucks at your clit and flattens it against your weeping pulse point. Your knees lock around his shoulders as your hips raise from the ground once again, before dropping back down with a soaking wet sound, a wail of your boyfriend's name being wedged out of your gaping mouth as you release all over his face and over welcoming tongue.

Yesyesyesyes repeatedly makes its way out of your jaw slack mouth as he continues to lick and lap and suck, his fingers only slowing down and halting once you begin to whine and push his head and wrist away. Ripples of shivers wrack and shake their way through your entire being as you fight to bring in air, eyesight blurred from the force of your orgasm, and your legs only being stopped from spasming by James holding them in place. Morning stubble tickles the tops of the front of your thighs as James kisses the expanse of them while you calm down, his own eyes fluttering as you loosen your hold against his scalp and grip onto his shoulders instead.

"Come up here." You invite once you catch your breath, your hunger becoming insatiable as James shakily lifts himself from inside of the lake and makes his way over to mount himself on top of you. Your taste is being licked into your mouth before your head can even touch the top of your bag again, and you obediently follow his tongues movement with your own while he feeds you your own essence. James' heart leaps in his chest as you flip the two of you over and you slowly sit yourself on his lap, the exhaled sigh of relief he lets out from the pressure of you on his dick enough to have you bending down to place and lick kisses on the flesh of his flushed neck.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." James tries to reassure you, even as his hips buck up to thrust and press themselves against your bare pussy. You smile against his skin, damn near eating the sounds he lets out as you suck red hued marks into his tanning skin, the drawn out moans and shocked inhales being more than enough confirmation for you to keep going.

"You think you're the only one who's been wanting to see the other naked, to want to have the other one's taste in their mouth?" You ask him, grounding your sex into the thin material of his swimming trunks and smiling triumphantly as you feel his cockhead jump against your swollen clit with every movement you make. James mutely opens his mouth, slamming it closed to grit out a heaved out grunt as you lift yourself up to lick your way down to his hipbone like he had done to you earlier, the combined taste of the natural salted water and the heady taste of his sweat making your head spin. Your mouth salivates as you slide the material of his shorts down and finally see his dick, the swollen and blood red tip weeping beaded and nearly translucent drops of pre-ejaculate as you readily lick your lips and slide down to lie on your stomach in between his legs. "As if I haven't been wanting to taste you since the night we first kissed. It took everything in me to not turn around and beg you to take me to your room."

Your boyfriend squeezes his eyes shut and reaches down to run a hand through your still damp and unruly locks as you attempt to wrap a hand around his pulsating shaft, a slim rope of spit keeping your lips together as your fingertips barely touch the underside of your palm. "Going to make you feel so good for treating me so well." You promise, your other hand sliding up to hold him in place as you peek your tongue out and lightly run it across the tip of his soaked head. James' fingers lightly twist and become a small fist in your mane as you slowly encase your swollen lips around him, a cry of your name pouring out of his mouth as you make your way down to mid shaft, your saliva coming out of the sides of your mouth, only to travel down and messily rest and pool on and around his raising and jolting ballsack.

"So good," James nearly breathes out in a carnal sound, the wet heat of your mouth and the tip of his cock lightly tapping against the back of your throat enough to make him already feel close to the edge. "So perfect for me." The praise makes you moan, the reverberations causing James' balls to spasm and for his legs to jolt up. You close your eyes and take in a deep breath before attempting to deepthroat, the way his knees bracket you in as he shudders beneath you making you feel stable as you push your head forward. You weakly gag as you feel your throat constrict and fight against the unusual stretch, before relaxing as his spurts of tangy precum soothe and coat your soon to be sore throat. You unlatch and relax your hand from around his shaft, bringing it up to encircle it around the hand attached to your head, to signal to him it was okay for him to start moving his hips.

Light, dirty blonde hairs tickle the bottom of your nose as he slowly thrusts his hips upward and pushes your head flush against his abdomen, his muscles feeling painfully taut as he forces himself to breathe through the overwhelming pleasure. You bring yourself up to your knees and hold back a wince as your skin rubs against the hard slab underneath you, before sliding a hand down in between your legs to rub at your incessant and still throbbing clit. Tears stream down your face as you easily bring yourself to your second orgasm, already so close from the lack of oxygen from James' solid thrusts into your mouth and throat, and from the taste of him alone. You raise your hand covered in your own slick to nudge it against and massage his ballsack, hiccupped moans coming from your throat along with barely suppressed gags, as James uses you with rough and reckless abandon.

"I'm close baby, can I?" He asks you, his voice barely audible and scratchy from all of his moaning and pants. You tap twice against his wrist once again and shakily breathe in as often as you can, the force and strength behind his thrusts as he fucks your mouth enough to pulse and move your head backwards. James twists his hand through your hair and yanks as he cums down your throat with a low and punched out moan, the seed so warm and large it makes you push against his stomach and tug your head free. You gasp for breath and swallow as much as you can before beginning to cough, the rest of his release sliding down from your chin and landing on the mounds of your breasts as you roll back onto the heels of your feet. A satisfied and satiated smile lifts your spit and cum clad lips as you look at how fucked out and debauched your boyfriend looks underneath you, his chest heaving for breath and his eyes wildly large. You teasingly tap on his thigh and let out a chortle as you're yanked down and rested on his middle, your hands sliding down to rest upon his as you both take a moment for yourselves while holding onto each other.

"Please don't tell me that was a dream." James breathes out, his still panting lips shaping into a grin as you let out a loud laugh and toss your head back. "Not a dream, baby. But it would be a great one anyway." You reassure him, leaning forward and resting a hand near his head to grab ahold of the aforementioned and infamous yellow towel. James laughs as soon as it comes into view, and you smile to yourself, before using the dry and rough fabric to clean yourself off as best as you can.

Your boyfriend lowers his hands to use them as leverage to sit himself up, his elbows unsteady underneath him even minutes after his orgasm. You scoot back to lightly dab at the mess you left behind on his thighs and where you sat on his stomach, a blush rising to your cheeks as you notice the amount of your slick stuck on his fingers and still clinging to both of your guys' skin. "I don't think the towel's going to be enough to clean us off." You coarsely whisper, your throat beginning to sore and feel rough. James feigns contemplation, before gently tugging the fabric out of your hands, and throwing it over his shoulder. Before you can even laugh at the fact that it landed perfectly on a tree branch, you're being lifted and tossed back into the lake.

Laughter fills your water covered ears, and you hastily swim back with barely enough time before James is jumping into the water alongside you, his swimming trunks being left behind to dangle haphazardly on a sharp edge of the rock's ending. You decidedly unknot the top already loosely hanging from the back of your neck, and then toss it towards his shorts, a hoarse laugh making its way out of you as it lands near the towel instead. James swims toward you and tugs you back flush against him, the smirk on his lips apparent as he tantalizingly rubs your breasts clean and trails a hand down in between your legs.

"You were amazing." He praises you, his voice gentle, despite his sexual touches and his wide amusement being pressed into the side of your neck. "And you were perfect." You respond, your eyes closing in bliss as his thumb flicks over your clit and his other fingers run their way through your oversensitive lips. Your head rests upon his shoulder like it did earlier in the car, and your eyes snap back open once you acknowledge how loud you two had been. "Oh God, the guys." You groan, slumping forward as James lets out a hysterical laugh from behind you.

"If you thought Lars was the only one to worry about, just you wait." He cryptically teases, leaning back and away from your arm's length as you blindly swat for him. An amused expression cascades itself upon James' features as you turn around and point a finger at him, the soaking wet version of you extremely adorable and as nonthreatening as humanly possible.

"Don't tempt me, I will swim home," you threaten, your laughter melodizing with his after you finish up your sentence. "I just have to put my bikini back on first."

⭒

Howling laughter and low whistles greet you two as you two make your way off the path and towards where the guys have everything unpacked and set up, a grimace set on your features as your feet uncomfortably shift in the confines of your now damp on the inside boots. You lower your head as James wraps an arm around your shoulders and playfully waves everyone off. "Fuck off, you've all done worse."

"Our girl's first walk of shame with us, and it isn't even at our home." Lars whispers out brokenly, wiping a fake tear from the side of his eye as he cradles a beer to his chest with his other hand. Kirk looks up from Jason's comic book from the softened ground and sends you two an amused smirk, before going back to reading. Cliff unzips the largest tent and points at the inside, an unimpressed yet highly mirthful look on his face as he does so.

"Fucking is for the inside of tents, not in the lake, while you scare off and interrupt wildlife." Jason chokes on his drink and bends in half while Lars unhelpfully beats on the middle of his back with a half-closed fist, laughter bubbling out of him as he tries to keep their newest best friend and bandmate upright. You turn your head to the side to hide your own grin, and to look at the lakeview instead, only to have your head guided back in the opposite direction. James cups your chin and brings you into a chaste, meaningful and long-lasting kiss, the reverberation of his laugh tickling your cupid's bow as the guys groan out loud in unison and complain from a few feet away.

"Disgusting behavior." Lars snips, the small and genuine smile on his face the opposite of his tone and words. Jason nods toward the car and sends you a secretive smile once he stops coughing and finds his breath, before walking over to you two and attempting to snag James away.

"There's another bag or two still left in the car, would you mind grabbing them for me while I talk with your guy?" Jason asks, the side of his mouth upturning as he shares a small, yet full glance with Cliff. You nod and remove yourself from under James' arm, sending your boyfriend a comforting smile as he begins to look nervous. Hushed murmurs erupt from behind you as you make your way over to Cliff's trunk, and you force yourself to not look back at them as it opens underneath your hand. You peer in look around confusedly, before realizing James' bag is the only one left in the truck. You take in a deep breath, before wrapping your hand around one of the bag's large handles.

As you tug the bag forward, a small and red, velvet box falls out from the confines of its side pocket. Picking it up, you glance over your shoulder and latch onto James' eyes with your own. He freezes at Jason's side, yet doesn't stop you from slowly inching it open. As you look away from his hesitant expression and look back down instead, your stomach drops and tears spring to your eyes as you take in what's been in the box, and in the trunk, all day and for however long James has had it.

"Holy shit." You whisper, unaware of James making his way over to you, his hair as damp as the palms he's wiping against his swimming trunks. James stops just a few feet away from you, his hands anxiously wringing themselves in front of his stomach. You take in a deep breath and force yourself to stay in place as he sends you a nervous smile, before opening his mouth.

"I can explain."

I'll never forget the first day we spent together, and with the guys, at the lake. I still have your gift, and I still wear it every day. It still reminds me of you, still makes everything feel like home while you're out and gone on the road. Still reminds me that I belong to you, and that I always will.

A to Z ⭒ James Hetfield (18+)

Ask He'll give you anything you ask for, although he enjoys teasing you until you're nearly begging for it. Lying in bed underneath him, looking up at him with tears forming on your lower lash lines, your eyes blown wide, your lips bruised and bright red. The sight of you would drive him crazy, and the sound of your broken and desperate pleas would be enough to make him end his playful denial and give you exactly what you want, and even more.

Bondage He isn't into bondage and restraining very much, unless it's a hand pinning you down, or him using his own to capture and hold your wrists above your head. He's more into you using your own body to accommodate with his and add onto both of your guys' pleasure, with your nails digging into his bare shoulders and your legs encircling themselves around his waist to match his thrusts.

Cunnilingus He absolutely loves going down on you, the taste of your slick and release nearly making him feel drunk every single time. He'd moan against you and grin against your sex with every mewl you'd let out from his vibrations, and continue until you're pushing at his head and attempting to scoot yourself further up the mussed and disarrayed bed to get away. Even then, he'd follow after you and encapsulate his body over yours, eagerly licking into your mouth to share the taste of you on his tongue with its original source.

Dirty Talk He would call you the usual endearing terms, from sweetheart to darling, to doll. But if he was in the mood for something more rough and you consented, he'd call you a slut and a brat, gripping onto your hair and forcing you to maintain eye contact with him until you both came. He'd calm you down afterwards and shower you with compliments and aftercare, gently rubbing circles into your sore scalp and praising you for being everything he's ever wanted and needed, craved.

Edging One of his absolute favorites, especially after a long and tiring day, or after a meaningless argument. He'd kiss every inch of your skin and purposefully miss where he knew you were the most sensitive, his amused laughter causing goosebumps to lie in the wake of his warm breath splaying itself against your trembling and bare skin. He'd promise he'll give you exactly what you want, only to turn around and back away as soon as he sensed you were going to orgasm. He'd only let up once you began to feel overstimulated and anxious. Then, he'd take care of you so well, and make you feel like you got everything you wanted since the very beginning.

Foreplay James' foreplay with you would be a gentle thing, even though it sometimes bordered on being playful and teasing. He'd start off with undressing you, his wide palms cascading themselves down your curves and longevity with awe and wonder each time, like it was his first time ever seeing you. He'd nearly kneel while he unbuttoned your jeans, shivers and chills wracking themselves through your upper half as he looked up at you and brushed his lips against your groin while he slowly pushed them down. By the time you were both in bed and nearly naked, you were flushed down to your breasts, and nearly coating your thighs with your own essence. He'd still nip at the skin surrounding your hips, creating hickeys and mouth sized bruises, only conceding and sliding down to your rapid pulse point once you began to tug on his hair and guide his face and awaiting mouth toward your sex.

Groping If he isn't singing, playing the guitar, in a meeting or in the shower, his hands are on you. Whether it's a simple hand half wrapped around your thigh, or a comforting cup of his calloused palm resting on the nape of your neck while you two lax on the sofa, he's always touching you. He feels discontent and half full when you aren't in his nearest vicinity, and it's the exact same when it comes to you two having sex. His rings dig into the flesh of your thighs as he hikes you up and fucks you back down on his shaft, his nails digging into your skin and creating temporary indentations in your forearms and waist, while you ride him and hold onto him like an anchor, needing him close to you as well. When he touches you, he feels complete.

Hickeys There isn't a single week that has gone by since you met James, where you haven't had a lovebite or a hickey bitten and sucked into your skin, unless he was on tour and you couldn't come with. Sometimes they'll be subliminal and well hidden, on the beginning of your groin and trailing down to where he knows you like them best. Other times they'll be glaringly obvious, displayed on your neck in red and purple hues, a light surge of pleasure flooding its way through you as people blush and glance away at the possessive and intended marks, and the slight pleasurable pain you felt when you graze your thumbs against the bruised flesh.

Intercrural If you're ever too sore or tired for a round, or another round, his second favorite place to grind and fuck against you is in between your thighs. He'd have you suck on his fingers until they're nearly dripping wet and fully soaked down to his third knuckle, before sliding them in between your awaiting legs and applying your spit to the soft skin of your thighs. He'd purposefully nudge his swollen cockhead against your clit if you were just tired, fingering you until you'd be close to cumming, before sliding home into you. But if you were too sore, he'd be mindful of his thrusts and thank you for allowing him to use you, satisfaction and satiation thrumming through him if you let him finish in your mouth.

Jealousy James rarely ever got jealous. But when he did, he got angry. The ugly feeling brewing inside of him made him want to lash out, but he'd calm down once he was able to acknowledge you politely declining other men's offers, and you instinctively making your way back over to him. If he was still upset afterwards, he'd take you back home or into another room wherever you two were at, and he'd hold your chin in a partially tight grip and make you meet his eyes in the mirror as he took you from behind. He'd have you repeat that he was yours and you were his, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he effortlessly brought you over the edge, the same eyes once again meeting his own later on while he apologized for his erratic and rough behavior.

Kissing It depended on the mood he was in, but for the most part, James' kisses are sweet and playful, always bordering on the line of inappropriate, even in public. He couldn't help it, his natural incline of always wanting to be near you bled into the way he wanted to kiss you as well. If it was a normal day and you two were greeting each other or parting ways, he'd swoop you in and caress his pair with yours, the rough graze of his facial hair always causing you to giggle. He'd take the slight part of your lips as an advantage, and sneak the tip of his tongue in to delicately and playfully run itself along the warm peak of your own. If he was adrenaline ridden and freshly off stage, he'd be erratic, his mouth incessant against yours and frenzied in a way that made you forget anyone else was around. If you two were alone, he'd take his time with you. Swallowing every single sigh of pleasure you exhaled out, and groaning into your inhale as you bit into his bottom lip to tug him impossibly closer, before switching positions and temporarily taking over.

Licking He's obsessed with the taste of you. Rather it be from your lips or thighs, or your pussy, he'd dive right in. Sometimes even playfully licking the side of your neck after tugging and tucking your hair back, your guys' matching laughter residing in the enclosed space of the room as you two register the groans coming from the other guys in the studio while they practice. Going back to him eating you out and him getting drunk off of it, he'd lap up your slick and let it roll around his tongue to savor the taste, before spitting it back onto you and attempting to eat you whole. He wouldn't be done with you until he either tired out, or you could no longer control your breathing and began to feel lightheaded.

Masturbation With James there with you, masturbation was the last possible thing on your mind. He fulfilled and satisfied you in every single way. But when he was on the road, you two enjoyed phone sex and mutual masturbation. You enjoyed hearing his cursed exhales and the shakiness in his tone as he whispered out your name, and he enjoyed hearing you slowly fall apart, the audible pop of your lips as they gaped around a silent scream, and the obscene sounds of the palm of your hand making contact with your sex as you rubbed and fingered yourself to completion. The hushed promises of seeing each other soon and you reassuring him of you already having bought a ticket and nearly being on the second to closest flight, and him knowing that even though he wasn't there with you physically you were still content and gratified, was enough to help ease his guilt of being away, and to help him fall asleep to the soft sound of your voice.

Non-negotiable There aren't many things James would say no to, but extreme rough punishment would have to be the biggest one. He found pleasure in spanking you and holding you down, edging you and overstimulating you, but the thought of harshly smacking you across the face and full on degrading you will always a pass for him. It wasn't that he didn't do or enjoy those things before or didn't do them to groupies and other minor flings in the earlier years of him being in the band, but the thought of him hurting you and you taking it personal and getting offended, made him physically recoil.

Orgasm James always enjoyed one upping himself, and making you cum and orgasm until you physically couldn't anymore, was something he considered that applied to. In a sense, your pleasure was, and is, his own. Every time he felt you convulse on top or underneath him, felt the warm and silky walls of your pussy tighten around his long and thick fingers, he felt himself nearly orgasm, his cockhead pearling with precum and pulsating every time like clockwork. The way your eyes would gloss over, and you'd nearly scream his name, the way you'd curl yourself against him from the force of your own climax, the way you'd milk him dry and manipulate your walls to contract and hold in his seed. He's always been an extremist, in life in general, and in the way he pushed himself musically, so of course he'd push himself to pleasure you too.

Positions Although you two enjoyed pushing each other to the limit at times and teasing each other, James' favorite position with you was missionary. With his hand curled around your throat, just present, and your legs draped over his broad shoulders. In missionary, he loved that he could see every single flicker of emotion on your face, and it was the easiest position for you to be able to grab ahold of him and keep him close, which is something you always love to do. He'd rest his forehead against yours as he fucked into you with reckless abandon, the irises of his eyes darkening as he stared into your own, and his free hand reaching down to rub it's middle and ring fingers harshly and adamantly against your swollen and hickied clit. He'd often grind his seed deep into you, before slowly pulling out to only lean back and slide his digits back inside, his kiss bruised lips raising into a lazed smirk as you would immediately tighten your legs and bracket him in as his fingers curled and massaged themselves against your spongelike and abused spot.

Quickie The adrenaline shooting through him after performing and being on stage for hours on end is unlike something most people would never be able to imagine or try to explain, so it's no surprise that after almost every single show you're present for, you two end up in a backstage room, or most likely than not, an abandoned bathroom or closet. The first time, you were terrified that you two would get caught and the band would get penalized, but after the few dozen, excitement fills you instead. You're nearly lifted each time and carried into one of the rooms, the roadies and managers and other band members looking away each time with hidden amusement and smiles, already knowing what was to come. You'd be placed in front of a mirror or on top of the sink, James standing in between your legs for easier access, before descending down onto you and taking you into his arms. Chilled glass would keep you in place as he ground himself against you, and if there was little to no barrier due to you wearing a dress or a skirt, he'd shove your underwear to the side and relish in the sounds you'd make as your clit rubbed and soaked through the denim covered zipper of his skin tight jeans. By the time you two were finished and nearly laughing at the absurdity of it, you'd both be panting, and the venue and backstage hallway would be nearly deserted.

Roleplay He loves when you pretend like you're a roadie, or a fan in the middle of the crowd. The knowing glint in your eye when you pretend to be lost or like it's the first time you two are meeting gets him every time. From the slow and hesitant touches, to the first touch of your guys' lips of the evening, to the confidence you two acquire once you both use your knowledge of each other's body to silently prove you both know exactly who each other are.

Sensitivity James loves the fact that you're overly sensitive in particular areas, specifically your inner thighs and the back of your neck. If there was a night where he felt like you teased him too much, or edged him, he would do the same to you, only in public. He'd innocently place his large and warm palm over the expanse of your bare thigh, and you'd think nothing of it at first. Only a small shock registering at the cool touch of his rings on your once and earlier covered skin. Your breath would begin to stutter, and you'd halt mid conversation, your eyes narrowing as you take in his wide smile hidden behind a casual hand tossed in front of his mouth, mirth and wild amusement dancing in the eyes you love to stare into. By the time you were finished with a few more sentences and your mutual friends were eating and partially distracted, your leg nearest to James would be over his closest to you, and his fingers would be grazing the outline of the tan fading near your bikini line, with his now unhidden and wide grin being pressed into the nape of your neck. "It isn't so fun to be teased, especially when you aren't expecting it, is it, baby?" He'd ask you, the only telltale sign of him being as affected as you are being the erection pressing itself against the back of your knee, and the slight strain in his usually steady and confident tone.

Threesome The idea of sharing you doesn't come easy to him, but if he were to think of the idea, he figures it would have to be someone you both knew well and were both comfortable with. It'd have to be one of the band members. The first one that comes to mind is Jason, since he's been known to be gentle and caring to his groupies and his past girlfriends. Kirk is next, since he's one of his best friends, and he knows that some of the things he's into, you'd be down to try as well. James also wouldn't be opposed to watching you get pleasured by somebody else, just so long as he was able to join in, and was the first man to make you cum. He eventually brings it up to you casually one day and laughs at the redness that evolves on your cheeks, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the expression he knows all too well on your face. He turns his head to the side and grins to himself, making a quiet reminder to ask them whether or not they'd like to join in on something special for your upcoming birthday.

Universal Everyone enjoys head. Whether or not they're giving or receiving changes that entirely, but luckily, especially for James, you loved to please him. He loved the way you'd grip him by the waist and hold him down, only to take him down to the hilt and brush your nose against his trimmed happy trail anyway. He loved the way you'd swallow around him and gasp at the feeling of him pulsating down your throat, as if you hadn't done this to him hundreds of times already. The way you'd twist both of your fisted hands around his shaft and paid extra attention to the long vein that traveled up from the base of his dick, all the way up to his tip. He'd force himself to keep his eyes open as you swirled your tongue around it to collect the translucent pre-ejaculate, only to use it as lubricant to swallow him down once again. You'd release your hands from around him to reach down and lightly massage at his ballsack, warmth filling your gut at the sounds he'd let out, some wispy and light, and some heavy and nearly baritone. By the time his seed and release made their way down your throat, tears were streaming down your face, spit collected around your lips, and your jaw was sore, yet you still managed to have a smile on your face regardless and in spite of it all.

Vibrator Toys weren't necessarily something that were brought into your guys' shared bedroom very often, but you ended up buying one anyway, as a surprise for James for when he gets back home from tour. By the time that you opened the front door to welcome him back home and inside, he had already bent down to kiss you. And by the time that you both neared the entrance of the bedroom, you two were laughing into each other's mouths and attempting to not trip on the tight bottoms of his pants. Tangled limbs make contact with the soon to be unmade bed, and you fix your expression to look innocent as James' back makes contact with the box you lied haphazardly on top of the blanket. You barely had time to explain how to use the toy and what it's use was before he had it unpackaged and ready to go. The sun was setting by the time you two were finished, the sitting vibrator nearly dead from the hour or two use, with your thighs and lower back on fire. Sweat clung to your neckline, and James carefully collects you in bed, before depositing you down next to him and wrapping an arm around your waist. You turn your head from the smaller spooning position and can't help but beam at the blissed out and worry free look on your boyfriend's face, his eyes already closed, yet the hand he has splayed out on your bare stomach still caressing your midsection. "Whatever idea you have next," he murmurs, his voice almost incoherent as he rests his head in the warm cavern of your shoulder and clavicle. "I don't care what it is. If it's as good as that was, let's do it. Twice."

Where Your guys' favorite place to have sex was in the kitchen, surprisingly. It was where you both broke in your home together, with you originally laid out on the brand new tiled island, with your hands sliding against the cool exterior, as James used your ponytail for leverage to hold you in place as he took you from the side. This time, you were both standing, you earlier being preoccupied by attempting to surprise him with a late breakfast in bed. James had made his way as quietly as he could behind you, breathing out a silent laugh in the extra space of his large shirt swimming on you, the warmth of his smile welcomed as a chill made its way through the opened window near the stove. You both had enough common sense to turn off the burner and move the half finished meal out of the way, before you spread your legs and arched yourself over the wide expanse of the counter in front of you. Before the cool air could shock you, James fisted his shirt and lifted it to rest near your shaking forearms, before beckoning forward and sliding into you. You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that you two had gone a few rounds the night prior, and he had worked you open earlier that morning. Sun rays bled their way into the opened window as you gripped onto whatever you could reach, your hips narrowly missing the hard impact of solidity as James drove himself into with finesse and ease. The only sounds making their way outside was his harsh pants and praises, and your enthusiastic, yet exhausted moans.

X Factor James' favorite thing about you is that you give him as much as he gives you. If he were to eat you out the night prior, you'd wake him up with a blowjob. If he was tired, you'd take the lead. If you were riled up and frustrated, he'd help you decompress. No matter the distance and circumstances, you both made time for each other, to keep the spark and interest alive, and to make sure that each other both felt loved and fulfilled.

Yes and No James was known to be the dominant one in bed. He was used to being on top, to guiding his partners into a sloppy session of head, to being rough. But he realized that while being with you, it still felt just as rewarding with you to take care of him and for you to sometimes take the lead. At first when it was first brought up, he wasn't so sure. Not because he wasn't interested, but because of the lingering thought and fear that you would think differently of him afterwards. But every time you rode him, you allowed him to control your hip movements. Every time you went down on him, you pleasured him as well as he pleasured you. Being with you helped him realize that although being dominant was in his nature, it didn't mean that it meant he always had to be rough and overly domineering. It took meeting the right woman to figure that out. To allow him to lead, even while relaxing and taking in pleasure at the same time.

Zip At times when you both needed to have a quickie and it was even less than convenient than all of the other times, you were forced to be quiet, both to your own and James' dismay. He loved the sound of your mewls and moans, the way your voice and tone would tremble as he took you apart and then brought you back together. But you both had quiet quickies so often as the studio and at the other guy's houses, that you two found a way to make it more exciting. Instead of just biting into one of yours' discarded t-shirts, James would instead place his fingers into your mouth, and the dual sensation of heat, both around his fingers and around his dick, was enough to make the quiet seem much louder. Spit would trickle down his wrist and make its way down to your breasts, and the glisten it would shine in the dimmed lights of the bathroom or nearest room somehow made it seem like less of a low maintenance fuck, and more of a heightened experience. It is true, what they say about experiences. It doesn't matter what happens, just who you have around when they do occur.

Backstage Birthday Pass ⊹ James Hetfield (18+)

Mentions/Warnings: oral sex, fingering, dressing room sex, mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie

The nylon and polyester material of the lanyard haphazardly swinging itself around your neck, connects with the thin material of the top of your dress, as you steadily and sneakily make your way through and past the ever-growing line of your boyfriend's band's fans. Hushed whispers erupt around you as you duck and swivel around a few people who immediately begin to recognize you, but they quickly quiet down and send you a secretive smile as soon as you raise a finger to your lips and silently respond back to their excitement with a cheeky wink and a wave of your own.

A weighted, yet light feeling of relief floods through you once you make it past the familiar five men standing near a foldable table without gaining their attention, and finally see the door with the tarnished and retaped STAGE DOOR - BAND AND CREW ONLY sign Kirk had instructed you to enter into once you got there. Your heart begins to pound as five more doors come into view, with James' being the last at the end of the narrow and barely lit, makeshift hallway. An unfightable bout of fondness fills you as soon as you push his door open, the birthday balloons and already half-eaten cake you and the crew had brought in earlier, unbeknownst to James, were already tied down to and resting against the lighted up dressing room table adjacent to you. Used solo cups pile around a deserted and dented keg to the far left of you, and you laugh out loud at the picture of him that was attached to it, your joyous sound bouncing off of the walls as you place your bag and oversized jacket down on the nearest chair.

You bend down to take off your heels, before deciding against it, already fully knowing how much your boyfriend takes pleasure in undressing you himself. Flattening your fingers against the lower bridge of your spine, you make sure that the sewn in lace of what's underneath your dress is still tied together and in place, before making your way over to the turned off radio near the bathroom. You run your slightly shaking fingertips over the hard plastic covers of the disarrayed and tossed around cassette tapes, a grin showing delight on your face as you pick up the one you know Cliff and Jason left behind for you on purpose. Light beats and a slowed down tempo reverberate through your eardrums and the rest of the room after you press play, and you allow yourself to slowly pace around the room, your nerves beginning to get the best of you as time slowly passes by.

Before you can psych yourself out and walk back out into the hall, multiple pairs of heavy and recognizable, booted footsteps lazily make their way towards you, and the dressing room you're hiding in. You widen your eyes and quickly turn around to face the lighted up bulbs surrounding his mirror, tilting your head downwards to hide your face behind your hair. A small squeak from the door is the only sound that indicates someone partially walked their way inside, and you take a deep breath before lifting your head to meet his eyes in the mirror.

"Pretty sure you need a backstage pass to be in here," James drawls out, his uninterested tone halting just like his breath once his own pair meet yours. Kirk and Lars wear shit eating grins behind him, and the sound of their amused chortles settle you enough to smile back at them through the reflective glass, before twisting around to face the three of them entirely. Bright blue irises widen and dilate as he takes you in, and he only come back to once a hand is smacked onto his back, and his two bandmates and your mutual friends turn to leave. A beat of heavy silence wavers between the two of you, before you two beam at each other in unison, and hurry to meet in the middle. "Holy shit."

Strong arms and the smell of sweat and faded cologne wrap and envelop themselves around you, as you etch your own into the stretch of his collarbones and shoulders as he bends down to lift you up. You wetly smile and bury your head into his disheveled blonde curls momentarily, before leaning back to meet his eyes squinting from the largeness of his smile. "How good is a backstage birthday pass around here?" You ask cheekily, your playful question going unanswered as he uncurls an arm from around you to use his hand to guide your head towards his. The first rough brush of his facial hair against your own soft skin draws a hilted gasp out of you, which he eagerly swallows down and licks onto. You hold on tight as you're blindly walked backwards, and only half flinch when the parts of your bare back make contact with the cool wall behind you.

Frosting, the aftertaste of beer, and a whisper of your name is all you can focus on as James swipes the tip of his tongue behind your teeth, and grins against your swelling lips as you tremble out his own in a pathetic attempt of using your voice. The sound is loud and slick as he separates his mouth from yours, and inches back to the point where his chest is only brushing against yours. Thick and calloused fingertips hold your head in place as he sucks in a deep breath, his own expression looking fucked out and wild from just a simple kiss alone. "How the hell did you get here?" The tone in his voice is beatific, blissful even, as the arm and curled palm holding you upright begins to slightly tighten around you, as if they were subconsciously checking to see if you were actually there.

"The crew, and the boys and I, came up with the plan a few weeks ago," You answer halfheartedly, your lips still wet from your guys' mixed saliva, and your head feeling dazed as you look back at him in person for the first time in almost two months. "I didn't want to wait for the end of the leg of tour to see you, so I pitched the idea, and everyone was down," your left hand comes up to entangle itself in his mane, your breath hitching in your chest as you watch his eyelids flutter at the sensation of the gentle tug your matching ring gives around a few strands. "Missed you." You finish, allowing yourself to be vulnerable, your eyes beginning to dampen with the sudden onslaught of emotion building itself inside of you. James leans forward to place a kiss on your forehead and carries you towards the large chair in front of his mirror, before uncaringly shoving his cake to the side and placing you down on top of the finished wood instead.

He grins as you temporarily forget about your teary eyes and emotional confession, and laugh instead, your arms loosening enough around him for your hands to slide down and rest in the small space between his half-zipped up leather jacket and his black t-shirt. "You already know I missed you too, baby," the large palm pressing itself against the back of your head, slides itself down to trail its fingertips down the expanse of your neck, your boyfriend letting out a quiet, yet heavy sound as you instinctively turn your head to make more room for him. "Damn near lost my mind without you." Warmth settles in your midsection, and you risk tearing the slit on the side of your dress as you spread your legs further apart, so he can fully step in between them, and press his upper half flush against your own.

"Is that right?" You nearly whisper, a moan being hastily swallowed in your throat as James groans from your tone and bends down to rest his forehead against yours, before almost dazedly nodding. You pinch his jackets zipper in between your right thumb and index fingers, slowly tugging it down as you use your other to glide it down his front, only stopping once your palm makes direct contact with his belt buckle. You earlier nervousness fully dissipates as you take in and acknowledge that he's just as hungry and as yearning for you, as you are for him. "I lost my mind the first night I had to sleep without you," you admit, elongating your tongue to moisten both of your guys' lips at the same time with the motion. "Had no one to keep me warm, or keep me feeling full." He moans outright at that, the huskiness of the sound coming from his earlier three-hour performance, enough to set your nerves on fire, and for you to enclose your fingers around the tongue of his belt to tug him closer. You arch your back off the mirror and hastily pull his jacket down his broad shoulders, your legs bending and raising to wrap themselves around his waist as he follows suit after you to tug his t-shirt over his head.

You watch as his hair falls back down unevenly on his shoulders, the light barreling itself onto the both of you looking like a halo around him, as he presses himself against you in only his unfastened jeans and his weighted boots, and the chain holding his ring right against the center of his chest. You settle the sharp points of the bottom of your heels into the back loops of his belt holders, and gently tap the rough material of your shoe against his ass, his wide and shocked smile becoming blurred as he uses his arms to barricade you against the glass. Your chest heaves as he takes advantage of you leaning back, to lean down and press kisses into the deep v-line of your chest, the scuff of his facial hair making your skin deliciously alight with red. You close your eyes and gape your lips open around a silent exhalation of pleasure as his mouth travels up to your left shoulder, and as he uses his teeth to tug the thin spaghetti strap down to your bent elbow.

"Being away from me for two months made you feel bold, huh? Where's my girl who'd just take it, and let me control how I move and bend you over?" You mewl as James presses his tongue into the flesh above your breast, his appendage pausing over a foreign feeling on his tongue, too thick and too designed to be an average bra. Your boyfriend leans back and raises an eyebrow, his eyes trained on your expression and facial features as one of his hands comes up to tug your other strap down. The rest of your dress pillows down onto your lap, and your walls flutter at the strangled curse he lets out, as your pushed up breasts in your satin based one piece fully come into view. "You're trying to kill me," He breathes out in wonder, unable to stop himself from bringing his hands up to grasp onto the mounds of your tits, and sliding them down your lace laden hips. "Fucking walking and breathing dream, you are."

You use your legs around him as leverage as he taps at your sides to have you lift your bottom half from the table, and you fight back a shiver at the look on his face, and at the cool temperature of the wood underneath you now being pressed against your nearly bare ass. The back of your head makes a lightly audible connection with the mirror behind you, as James holds onto your legs and lowers his upper half to lie flank on the widening space between them. His fingertips move with finesse over the sewn in designs and lace, before he hooks his left thumb into one of the side bows and tugs it loose. "Not only are you the best present, but you're fucking wrapped like one too," he murmurs the words like he's talking to himself, the rough texture of his fingertips working the lace free from the corset sending wracking shivers down your spine. By the time he has both sides untied up to the sides of your chest, you're fully soaking through the cotton fabric protecting your pussy, and your clit has its own jackrabbiting pulse. James licks his lips as he comes face to face with it, and looks up at you hungrily, the full dilation and the drunk look on his face making another thick pearl of essence slide itself out of you. "Can't wait to get my mouth on you, and ruin this pretty thing you put on just for me."

Your second pulse point begins to become incessant and almost painful, with the press of the ruined thong's cotton feeling like too much, and also not enough at the same time. You reach down to cup his chin with a slightly trembling hand, your breathing already heavily labored, although nothing has truly happened yet. "Please," you begin to plead, the whine in your own voice turning you into an even brighter shade of pink, with the flush starting at the tops of your cheeks, and reaching down all the way to where your one piece was barely hanging on. "I'll be good, I can take it. Just please, please do something." Tears cling to your lash line as James takes his time contemplating, before giving in and tilting his head to press a kiss into your unsteady limb.

"Lay back for me, sweetheart. Don't you worry about a thing." he soothes, as he moves out of your touch to suck a mark into your hipbone, chuckling against your skin as your back immediately arches into the touch, and your clothed clit makes brief contact with the ring dangling mid-air from his chain. The teasing touch of his teeth barely even biting into your skin has you moaning, and wanting nothing else but for him to mark you up, so you can have something semi-permanent on you to remember this night by. His right hand comes down to unlatch the clasp nearest towards the middle of your groin, and you inhale a small breath of relief from the loss of that additional pressure. Before you can thank him, a thick and hot to the touch thumb, is roughly grazing itself over your clothed, swollen pair of lips. The sound you let out sounds nearly inhuman, a dried yet wet, mixture of a cry of relief and frustration. James' mouth disconnects from your now red and purpling, hickied skin, to teasingly hush you, before moving his hands from your hip and left breast, right down to your sex. You sigh in relief as the ruined material is slid down to the backs of your knees, before tumbling down past the ends of your heels and onto the carpeted ground beneath your boyfriend's feet. Before you can even form your kissed bruised lips in a shape to thank him, he's descending down onto you, and your legs are placed onto the backs of his shoulder blades.

The first simple lick against your clit has you tensing, and by the time his tongue is tantalizingly lapping at your quivering entrance, your entire body is seizing. You fingers grip onto his strands for a desperate sense of grounding, while he takes turns in seemingly making out and harshly sucking at your clit, and fucking his tongue in and out of you. You use the slight leverage of having your head and upper shoulders still resting on the mirror behind you to try and ride his tongue, and the slight movement it makes, has you nearly screaming his name. James eats you out as if he's starving, moaning against you like he's enjoying it as much as you are, if not more. You see his eyes flicker up to yours and take in your flushed red and sweating state, and you watch as they roll back into his head in ecstasy, your mouth gaping into a silent wail as one of his hands caresses its way down your calf and up your thigh, to slowly glide an index and middle finger inside of you. The triple sensation of his appendage licking and rubbing against you, and his long and thick and rough fingers curling up expertly to rub at your spot, as well as the textured contact of his facial hair meeting with your pussy, has you nearly blacking out from the enormity of pleasure. Droplets of exertion of having to lift your hips up to ride his tongue and press your heels into the upper part of his back, drip down your chin and find dormancy near the precipice of your breasts, as your boyfriend uses his other hand to reach up and intertwine his fingers with yours.

The unyielding and intense amount of pleasure continues to grow, and you grip onto his hold around your hand like a lifeline, as you see your vision begin to blur and start to whiten, and the tethering heat in your stomach and groin reaches its breaking point. "I'm coming!" You nearly scream, the stutter of his name around an abandoned and desperate exhalation of breath sounding utterly broken as you reach your first orgasm, and you wrap your legs around the nape of his neck.

Shattered attempts of breathing fail you as James continues to lick and suck on you, and he only backs away once tears are streaming down your face, you're pleading repetitively, and your legs are dangerously hanging off the edge of the table currently carrying nearly both of your weight. You lift your head from the glass once you're able to half catch your breath and your vision clears, and gasp out loud at the sight of him. Your slick and release covers and matts itself in the facial hair surrounding his mouth, and runs down his neck in translucent globs, in a mixture of your own arousal, and his own messy spit. You reach forward before you can even second guess it, clasping a hand around the back of his neck to tug him forward, and lick into his mouth. James immediately opens, overwilling and still hungry, allowing you to massage and lap and lick at his appendage, until the taste of yourself is enveloping your own buds and making you feel lightheaded with arousal. Strings of saliva hold you two in place as you slowly break away, the thin and wet strands only breaking apart once you whisper the next few words towards your boyfriend, and he shakily breathes in and erratically nods his head.

"How about you turn me over, and make me watch through the mirror, while your fuck me against this table?" The speed in which you're turned around and pressed forward has you giggling, until James presses a large hand down on the middle of your back, and your hardening nipples are pressed down against the cold surface. You obediently place both of your hands underneath your chin, and leer at him through the mirror, as he holds and maintains your eye contact while unzipping his jeans. The sound of the heavy buckle of his belt hitting the leg of the chair behind you two nearly makes you flinch, until two fingers are gently being guided back into you, making you nearly go cross eyed at the overstimulation.

"What are you doing?" You shakily ask, non-verbally getting your answer as they're soon taken back out, and used to lubricate the thick and long girth and length of his dick. James temporarily leans down to place a kiss on the middle of your bare back, before standing back up and sheathing himself inside of you. You watch as his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure, and as your eyebrows furrow and your front teeth find themselves in your plush bottom lip. The feeling of his groin and hips flush against your ass feels innately intimate, especially as he reopens his eyes and looks down at you in the reflection with adoration and earnest. Like the feeling of him being fully inside of you, feels like coming home.

You watch as he seems to shake his head in disbelief to himself, before latching and securing his hands on either side of your waist, and trailing his eyes down to where he disappears inside you. You let out a sigh of relief at the first thrust, the slight twinge of pleasured pain from finally being stretched open after so long nearly making your eyes close in bliss. The second makes your eyes widen, as he leans back until his cockhead is only halfway into your entrance, before he pivots himself fully back inside, the feeling of him hitting your cervix and the sopping sound that comes with him sliding back home, enough to make you both outright moan and clutch at each other. You reach back to grasp onto one of his wrists, while your other stays beneath your chin, so it doesn't connect with the hard surface, due to his roughening thrusts, and the way he yanks you backwards to fuck yourself back onto his length.

"God, baby, you feel so fucking good," he pants, the thick vein running along his shaft pulsating against your fluttering walls with each inch he pivots himself in and out of you. He carefully uses his free hand to stand you up enough that your still heeled feet can fully be placed on the floor, and you take that as enough incentive to force your hips back in slow and methodical circles, a euphoric feeling flooding through you as you catch James cursing to himself under his breath and reaching up to run a hand down his face. You clench around him and suck in a greedy inhalation as his cockhead roughly etches itself against your spongelike spot, and you let go of his wrist to beckon yourself even further back, until the sounds of you connecting with him sound like harsh slaps. Your vision begins to swim, and you swear you can feel saliva bed itself in a puddle near your bottom lip as a strong arm encircles itself around your waist to nearly lift you off the ground once again. "Can't ever go another two months without feeling you again." James nearly grunts, deeply grinding into you as he flushes his entire front against your back to lick and bite at your neck, and you feel his smile at the whine you let out when his incisor nips at your collarbone. Your back bows as he sneakily reaches down to rub at your clit, the first tap of his fingertip against it feeling like a flash of energy being charged into you, making you almost push against him to get away. James removes his mouth from your neck to tsk at you, before shaking his head in a way that almost seems condescending.

"C'mon, angel, you can take it," he taunts through the mirror, unlatching his arm from around you to reach up and loosely close it around your neck, the touch feeling grounding and possessive at the same time. You're propelled forward by the strength behind his next thrust, and the tug on your throat to hold you in place makes you gasp in shocked pleasure. Familiar heat quickly rebuilds as your stomach muscles contract, the thumb he has connected to your clit continuously rubbing figure 8's in a way that makes you feel like you aren't fully connected to your body. You reach up to hold onto him and plead for him to go faster, harder, the sudden need to orgasm coming from the way he buries himself in you and uses you for his own pleasure, while also giving you your own. James watches through the mirror as a stray tear makes it way down your cheek and as you nearly choke around a torn out whisper of his name, before giving in and fucking you with reckless abandon. The force in which he plunges himself and thrusts into you makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your second orgasm tears through you even stronger than when he was going down on you. "That's it, my good girl. Take what you need, milk me dry."

Your walls contract and tighten around him so vicelike, that it almost makes him unable to continue, and you watch through spotty and unreliable eyesight, as he fucks himself into you with a completely gone look on his face. Bright bulbs imprint themselves in the peripherals of your eyes, yet you're uncaring, as you find your footing once again, and circle back and grind until James roughly pulses and paints your walls and cervix with his hot seed. You shallowly exhale as he subconsciously presses himself even deeper, until he's almost making contact with your womb, the last spurt of his ejaculate reaching even farther inside of you than you two think is possible.

Silence thickens the already heated air once you two eventually gain control of your breathing, and that same silence helps you realize that the tape you had placed in the radio earlier, finished before you two did. Embarrassment and mortification fill you to the brim, as you imagine how loud you two must have been, and James laughs out loud as you repeat the same sentiment verbally. Before you can retort, he's carefully removing himself from you, and gently turning you around to face him.

Warm and steady hands are placed on each side of your jaw, and you lean into the kiss you're being guided into with ease. The earlier tongue and heat and passion is now long gone, and is instead replaced with satisfaction and satiation. The sound your lips disconnecting this time is short and sweet, and you lean back against the table to tilt your head upwards and send him an exhausted grin. "Happy birthday, baby." You murmur, the scratch in your throat making your voice sound hoarse. James smiles down at you gently, before shaking his head and spontaneously lifting you up again, his face breaking out in a wolfish grin as you throw your head back and chortle.

"I don't know about you, but I've still got four hours of my birthday left," you're still laughing as your placed down on the large chair you two bumped into earlier, only this time you're on his lap, with your hands resting on his chest, right underneath his chain and ring. Your boyfriend looks up at you as he leans back, the new position making his hardening dick extremely apparent as it rubs itself against your belly button. "And there's no way in hell that I'm done with you yet." You nod with renewed fervor and energy, the metallic clink of your own ring connected to your ankle sounding off against the leg of the chair as you shift back, and you grin against his mouth as you reach back to position and guide him toward your entrance. You glance over at the bag you abandoned earlier, as you slide down the entirety of his length. Once his birthday was over, you'll surprise him with rings that'll actually fit the both of you this time.

It Will Come Back 🕮⛧ James Hetfield (18+)

Part Two of Summon Me

Mentions/Warnings: demon!james, oral sex while standing/carrying receiver, fingering, minor blood play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

Glass bottles' bottoms are clacking themselves together in a loud and rhythmic unison as your roommate hurries her way back inside of your guys' shared dormitory and kitchen, and the abrupt way she nearly drops them on the dining room table in front of you, has you jumping in shocked fright. You're unable ask her what's wrong, before she's manically reaching into the paper bag to rip a beer out of a six pack.

"God, I fucking hate Halloween," she expels during a small pause in between her taking large gulps of the lightly colored beverage. "I swear, it feels like every year since we ended up doing that séance, we've been cursed." Your eyebrows raise on their own accord, and you can't help but laugh in disbelief.

"We, as in you and me, we? Because from what I remember, I came home and found you and your friend drunk off your asses, with a ouija board and a burnt planchette on the living room floor." You raise your hand to solidify your statement by showing off the healed scar on your palm, and only relax back into your seat once she sends you an apologetic smile and tosses her empty bottle in the direction of the trash can.

"Yeah, sorry about all of that," her tone is dismissive, yet soft, and you lower your hand back down onto your book as she moves closer to you by sliding her elbows against the wood. Lifting her forearms to hold her hands together to rest her chin on top of them, you see her fight off a shiver and purposefully look around really slowly. "But you can feel it too, right? It comes and goes every few weeks, but I swear, it always gets colder and darker this time of year. And the fucking scratch marks on the cabinets get longer each year too. I swear I'm not crazy."

You purse your lips to hide your smile, and lift up a shoulder in response as you pinch the used and worn pieces of paper together in the back of your novel. "I think whatever happened that night, you definitely invited something in here, and it just likes to mess with you is all," using a rugged and already half torn edge of the page you stopped on to dog ear it for later, you close your book and go to move your chair back, but stop when you notice the look on her face.

Using her left index finger that's free from underneath her chin, she points at you and narrows her eyes. "What do you mean?" She interrogates, and you force your expression to remain neutral, even as your fingertips turn white as you tighten your hold around your item. "You said me, instead of we. Is there something going on that I don't know about? Have you and Steve been fucking with me?"

You're pushing your chair from further behind you with the backs of your knees by the time she has her eyes narrowed in on you, and you perceptibly shake your head. "I haven't said more than five words to Steve within the past three years he's been around, much less have conspired with him to make you any more paranoid than usual, roomie."

A shrill scream comes from a few feet away from the partially open back door and outside, and this time, it's your roommate that jumps, and then screams. Red and multicolored led lights are displayed and emanating all throughout your dormitory from all sides from the other surrounding homes, and for a second, she looks like she's in a horror movie. A handful of children running around laughing can be seen through the crack, before she lets out a frustrating sigh and kicks it to a full close. The chain is colliding with the doorframe and then bouncing in place by the time she's grinding her teeth together, and you hesitantly take a step back.

"I think I'm just going to head to my room and finish this up," you murmur in the now completely silent home, and nod your head towards the recyclable bag she came running in with just a few minutes ago. "Make sure to save some for the friends you invited over last week, and happy early Halloween." You take her eyes widening in recollection as enough of a goodbye to turn around and start walking down the hall, only to pause at the obvious burn mark still etched into the wood of your guys' shared living room floor.

To this day, it looks brand new, even after your roommate and her friend tirelessly attempted to scrub it away, in fear of the owner of the house seeing it and deducting even more money from the down payment you two put down after every lease renewal. The sliver of scarred skin itches on the edge of your palm, and excitement whirls in your midsection. Peering over your shoulder to look at the clock and then into the entryway of the kitchen, you hastily and excitedly pace the rest of the way to your bedroom, before locking the door behind you and tugging out the folded up pages from the back of your book.

Using the now blue and purple lights flashing their way through your bedroom's curtains to carefully open the paper from the spell book you stole two years ago, you smile down at the full incantation, before setting it down to get the rest of your supplies. In less than thirty minutes, you'll be seeing him again.

⛧

Three large candles are placed right in front of your crossed legs and bent knees, and you place the new and sterilized needle on your thigh, with your eyes anxiously glancing back to the digital clock resting precariously on your desk every few seconds. As soon as twelve makes itself apparent in the bright red numbers being displayed, you're leaning forward to read the already memorized short spell out loud, and carefully pricking your right index finger.

"I summon thee, on the night on Halloween, to feast upon me in the hopes of everlasting fulfillment."

The wet and darkened bead travels itself down your fingertip in a slow and taunting pace, before collecting at your nailbed, and dripping down onto the page. A steady stream of cold air wafts its way over to you and causes goosebumps to raise on your bare skin, and you grin instead of jolt when two hands are audibly smacking themselves on your nearest bedroom's window. Two bright irises stare at you through your nearly see through fabric, and a brush of heat collects itself as James' sharp teeth greet you from the other side of the glass.

You're on your feet before your head can catch up with the rest of your body, and your hands shake as you eagerly unlatch the window's lock on it and push the aged wood upwards. "You know you can just appear in my bedroom like usual, you didn't have to wait outside." Your voice somehow sounds stable in spite of the insurmountable adrenaline pumping through you, and you allow yourself to be guided backwards as he makes his way inside and delicately beckons you back with a large hand.

Thick and long, sharp nails mold themselves around the curve of your waist, and he grins down at you, before peeking his narrowed tongue out to dampen his lips. "As if I would be alright with doing the exact same shit every year," he responds in a lazy drawl, his eyelids barely fluttering in a blink as he hungrily takes in every inch of you. "Especially with you, after finding out how much you enjoy the dramatics."

You scoff and lightly push at his shoulder, your breath catching in your chest as he wraps his other hand around your wrist to pull you flush against his front. "And who keeps digging their nails into the same cabinets every year to scare my roommate?" You shakily breathe, your earlier adrenaline turning into needily want as the hand he has on your waist grazes down to the upper hem of your underwear and shorts.

James amusingly hums, before bending down to brush your foreheads together, his grin transforming into a smirk as he notices you stopping yourself from inching forward. "And yet, who keeps summoning me back every year in tradition, hm?" The question is whispered into the small swell of cold air in between you two, and he immediately responds to you after you jerk forward to slot your lips with his.

Tendrils of his blonde hair make contact with your bare shoulders as he lifts you and presses you up against the wall, and they connect with yours as he frees a hand to use it to tilt your head upward. The sharp nails dig deliciously into your sensitive skin, and he grunts in praise when you obediently open your mouth at the first tap of his fingers on your jaw.

The rough texture of his tongue is the complete juxtaposition to yours, and it somehow makes everything even more stimulating. His slim appendage slides out from his own wet cavern to lap at your own, and the hold he has on you tightens as you use your own to lick a slow and tantalizing line on the roof of his mouth. The sound of you two disconnecting is sopping wet and filthy, and warmth pools in your groin as he cleans up the strands of saliva still keeping you two together with the tip of his tongue, before swallowing them down.

"Missed how good you taste," he admits softly while looking in your eyes, and you're fully relaxed in his hold by the time he's nudging your head to the side to suck marks into your clavicle. Your legs raise to shakily wrap themselves around his middle as his teeth teasingly scrape against your reddened skin, and you feel his smile as your pulse quickens underneath him. "Here," he hums, and smiles to himself at the gasp you let out when he lifts you up another few inches. He's pressing his open mouth on your clothed breasts and inhaling in, like he can still taste you through the fabric. "Here." Your legs loosen and unwrap themselves as your knees graze his ribs, as he raises you even further. Hard and hot impressions grow against your chest as he's using his nails to rip your shirt into two, and you moan once you realize his horns are beginning to grow.

Thickened saliva pools at the front of your flimsy bra before it's torn apart, and you bite back a wail as he fills his entire mouth with your tit. His incisors retreat as he creates hickeys around your perked nipple, and his own moan reverberates around the room as you loosely make fists around his horns and hold onto them for desperate leverage.

He only separates from you to lick the taste of your own flesh into your mouth and partially greet you with a devilish and wolfish grin. "I need you to hold on tight for me, doll. Think you can do that for me?" His deliverance is borderline condescending, but you can't find it in yourself to care as he positions you to have your legs resting on his shoulders, and then he's squatting down. "What are you doing?" Is barely being stuttered out, before he's sliding the cotton fabric of your shorts and underwear to the side, and making out with your pussy.

The sound that escapes you sounds like a scream, and you couldn't be more grateful to the music your roommate began playing just minutes after you headed to your bedroom. James takes his time taking you apart, with each of your lips and your clit being licked and lapped at, and sucked into his hot and searing mouth. If you weren't holding onto his horns for grounding, you'd be gripping your hands in the strands of his hair, or reaching up to dig your nails into the ceiling.

James is hungrily slurping in and dripping out your essence and slick repeatedly as he travels and maps his way through your folds and down to your entrance. Heat jolts down your spine, and you go ramrod straight as your first orgasm pummels into you by the time he's got the tip of his tongue drawing circles and rimming itself against your fluttering hole. He's moaning as you bead and gush around him, and his movements become even more lively after he feeds off of your pleasure and energy.

Panic temporarily sifts through you as your back is being removed from against the wall, but you're placated as he holds onto your waist stands back up to his full height. The top of your head makes light contact with the ceiling of your bedroom, and your thighs shake around his head as he blindly walks you both over to your bed, with his lips still pursed and parted against you. A shocked bout of laughter bellows its way out of you as you're playfully dropped on top of your blankets and sheets, and your widened eyes soften at his rocked and disheveled state that greets you once you look up.

A sheen of your own release is covering the entire lower half of his face, and his eyes grow dark when you decide to lift your still slowly bleeding finger and bring it up to his lips. Red flashes to an almost black as he welcomes the press of you in, and your eyes nearly cross as he secretes a salve to your wound after suckling it clean.

"Do you remember what I gave you permission to do to me, three years ago?" You implore once you're sure your voice isn't going to shake and betray you. You can see him trying to figure it out on his own, but he's too high over your newly transferred vigor and blood that he can't wrap his head around your question. Encircling a hand around his wrist like he had done to you earlier, you hungrily lick at the residual shared tasted of you both of your lips, before guiding his hand down to in between your legs. "I said you could use me, and feed from me."

James' cockhead spurts prerelease in the confines of his jeans, and his hips buck forward on their own once his hand is placed to rest on top of your pussy. Making the conscious and safe decision to retract his nails before sliding and curving his index and middle fingers inside of you, his chest heaves at the sinful sound you make when he does. Circling his digits to rub his fingertips against your spongelike spot until your strings of arousal are nearly wrapping themselves around his wet wrist, his teeth begin to pang with the exertion of having to keep his fangs at bay.

"You can't even imagine the things I want to do to you, sweetheart," he purrs, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as venom stings against his gums and his horns elongate to their full height. He drives his fingers up into you to their hilt, and then pulls them out until they're nearly completely out of you. "I want to sink my fangs into your jugular and drink you dry, and then feed you my own to heal you. I want to fuck you until you're full of my seed and then eat it out of you, and have you suck the taste of yourself off of my tongue. I want you to feel me whenever you sit down for the next week."

Your eyes roll back, and your legs seize once he adds in his ring finger, and you can't stop yourself from bending your legs against the side of the bed, and yanking yourself down to try and ride them. James beads in his briefs, and a wet stain is visible through his fabric, even in the near pitch black. Red irises stare down at you, and then almost slam shut as he watches you relentlessly try to fuck yourself up and down his digits. "So fucking needy, aren't you? Has it really been that long? I thought it's only been a little bit over a week."

You sit up in a shock when he begins to scissor his fingers inside of you, and the new position has him pressing directly against your spot with the full weight of his hand. You cry out and place your hands on his forearm to stop his movements, and the tremors in your lower half have you shaking uncontrollably and shifting the blankets and sheets on your bed. "Isn't the same when it isn't Halloween, you don't have your horns," you stumble around and freeze in euphoria when he ignores your silent plea to stop. A full circle of his wrist and a come hither motion has you letting go of his arm to fist his shirt instead, as overwhelmed and overstimulated tears make their way down your cheeks. Regardless of how hungry and insatiable he's feeling, James is careful when he removes his fingers from inside of you, and he pauses in place when you refuse to let go of his cotton. Sucking in a shuttering inhale and blinking around the salty sting, you motion for him to take off his shirt, before only letting go to reach down and shakily unbuckle his belt. "I want to ride you."

Your trembling right hand is pressing itself against his swollen dick before he can even verbalize an answer, and you use the rest of your strength to pull him down on top of you, and then flip you guys' over. Tears slightly blur your vision as you unstably unbutton his jeans and tug them down past his upper thighs, but you can still recognize the awe in is gaze. A human version of a hand is running itself through the mane on the side of your head, and you pause your ministrations to lean into the hold, and then his briefs are falling down with his pants. "You don't have to if you aren't up for it, doll. I saw you almost slip into subspace earlier." He gasps as you curl a fist around his length after licking your palm slick beforehand, and the gentle grip in your hair tightens. You mewl at the sensation, and carefully shake your head as you gather yourself and stabilize while straddling his lap.

His free hand comes down to hold you upright as you reach back to grasp onto him, with him hissing at the sensitivity as his cockhead brushes against your still sopping entrance. "Wanna take care of you, just like you take care of me," you almost whisper, and your train of thought gets temporarily lost as you slowly sit yourself down on his dick. The slight twinge of pain is still there regardless of his earlier fingering, and you sigh in relief as his wide girth stretches you to your brink. "You always fill me so well, like you were made for me." The hand on your side pinches itself into your skin, but you ignore the slight discomfort as you fully position yourself up onto your feet. Placing both of your hands on his naked and sweating middle, you both curse out loud with the first slide.

The first time you bottom with your full body weight, your legs almost give out from underneath you, with him pressed so perfectly against your cervix it almost brings tears to your eyes. The hand in your hair slides down to grip onto your ass, and then moves forward to begin to tease at your swollen and bulbous clit. "I was made to fuck you just like this, and for you to use me," James breathily responds, his skin overheating and burning as you bounce up and down his length with reckless abandon. Every single swing of your hips and stuttered pulsing thrust has him spurting small beads of precum in you, and when he feels the telltale sign he's going to cum, he flips you two around. "I can't have my good girl doing all of the work herself, now can I?"

He's burying himself fully into you and sheathing his girth into and against your stretched out and slick walls before you can answer, and all you can do is hold on. The blankets and sheets beneath you shift and crumple in, and you have to wrap a shaking leg around him in fear of sliding off the bed with the force and desperation behind his thrusts. The sounds coming out of you sound strangled and animalistic, and they turn into teary jerks of his name when he reaches down in between you two to stimulate you even further.

He barely even has to tap his thumb against you, because you're already falling apart. You've had countless amounts of rounds of sex with him sporadically over the past few years, but it never feels the same or becomes tiresome and boring. You reach up to dig your nails into his back's skin, knowing that he likes a little bit of pain of his own, and he's bearing himself into you so harshly and deeply, your top halves are sliding off the bed.

A hand is taking the brunt of the fall near your head, and you're nearly bent in half as he continues to use you for his own gain. The new position has your eyes rolling in the direction of the back of your head, and you can feel his skin breaking underneath your fingers as you hold on for dear life. The next piercing thrust has you silently gasping and going completely pliant and numb in his grasp, and you slowly fade off as your third orgasm within the last half an hour shoots through you. James is still pistoling himself in and out of you, before your abused and sore pussy walls constrict in just the right way, and he's filling you with his seed.

Shakily using his knees still pressed against the bed to carefully glide you two down to fully lie down on your carpeted floor, James places kisses to the crown of your head and rubs small circles in your side until you slowly start to resurface and come back to. "There you are." He greets you, his tone hoarse from his own moans and from how spent he now is, regardless of how much he just took from you. Your eyes are refocusing on him and then your eyebrows are furrowing at the itchy fabric being pressed into your forearms. Looking further down and seeing where you two ended up, you're only able to maintain a few seconds of calm eye contact with him, before you're both shaking in silent and hysterical laughter.

The room becomes completely dark once the candles meet their end less than a handful of feet away, and the neighboring lights fade as their owner's head to bed. Tiredly lifting your head to lean forward and kiss him with as much energy you can muster, you smile against his bruised red lips, and murmur, "happy Halloween." The same sentiment is being gently said back to you, and James holds onto you until you catch your breath and go to clean up, and until the morning sun threatens to rise.

You hold back a shiver as the wind from your open bedroom window cascades itself down your arms and legs, with that being the only skin not protected and covered by James' oversize shirt. You're tugged into a tight embrace, and then he's hefting himself back out of your window. "Maybe don't wait until Halloween to summon me again, alright?" He grins at you, and holds onto the window frame as he leans back to evade your halfhearted swat.

"As long as you stop scaring the shit out of my roommate, and just appear in my bedroom next time." You try to reason, but with the fucked out and content expression on his face, and the loose movement in his posture before he lets himself fall back, you know he isn't fully listening. Perking up at the mention of her, he goes to reassure you that he won't, even though he knows that he's going to end up messing with her again. He's got a tradition to uphold, and he is a creature of habit.

⛧

James makes sure to listen in for any movement coming from the front part of the shared dormitory, before entering through the back door. Turning the kitchen light off to make sure his horns and elongated nails can't be seen in his shadow, he makes his way over to their pantry to unscrew the cabinet doors until they fall off.

Once he's done with his handy work, he purposefully pushes a half empty beer bottle off of the table, and makes his way back outside as multiple pairs of footsteps run their way towards the dining area.

A bright light is turned on, and then a frustrated scream can be heard, even as he rounds his way back towards the front of the house.

"I swear to God, I think I'm losing my mind! Someone sedate me!" He hears her scream, and he laughs to himself, before Steve's adding in. "The scratch marks were right there just less than an hour ago! Where the hell could they have gone?" James readjusts the damaged wooden doors in his arms, and sends you a wolfish grin when he sees you peering down at him with an incredulous and exasperated look on your face.

"Call me." He sends up to you, and you can't help but smile to yourself as he walks away, and then disappears.

Raising your now sore arms to push your window to a close and relatch the lock, you make a pitstop and bend down to grab onto the page ripped out of the spell book, before crawling back into your messy bed. The blood drop is now gone from the piece of paper, but you can still taste the residual of it from when you kissed him on the carpet. Satiated bliss weighs you down, and its got you easily closing your eyes and almost immediately falling asleep. Tightening your hold on the paper and rearranging yourself before you do, your last thought is.

'I am definitely calling him again.'

No one talks about James Hetfield’s usage of bandanas and I think it’s time to change that