Ross Halfin Archives

ross halfin archives <3

Ride The Lightning ⚡︎ Lars Ulrich (18+)

Blowing a handful of stray hairs out of your face as you finally make it to the top of the seemingly never-ending stairs, your already depleting good mood completely plummets as soon as you take in the smug look on the drummer's face waiting for you. Your feet falter as soon as he fully comes into view, and your eyes immediately pick up on the fact that he's alone for once. Lars pushes himself up into a fully standing position, his hands in his back pockets to try and conserve heat in the concerningly cold complex's hallway. Thundered light bolts through and graciously gifts the two of you temporary brightness every few seconds, the sun now long gone as grey hues of spattered clouds take over the sky above the state of California.

"Got caught up in the rain on the way over here, didn't you?" He cockily asks, his accent licking at the words and making them sound more thickened and condensed. "Let me in, would you? Your brother's holding a guitar for us, and we need it for the rehearsal set we have tonight." His carefree and dismissive tone gives off no signs of gratitude to the fact that you had just cancelled your plans to run over here and let him in as soon as you got the phone call from your older brother.

You rapidly blink in disbelief as the Dane sarcastically steps aside for you, his left hand impatiently ushering you forward as you drip and create a small puddle in the outdated carpet underneath you. Lips pursing as you reach into your soaked pocket for your duplicated set of keys to the apartment, you narrow your eyes before flicking your head towards the overconfident musician to your right. An indignant sound strangles its way out of his throat as rainwater flies and lands on his flushed cheeks and shocked expression, and you successfully unlock the front door with a hidden and triumphant smile on your lips.

"Doing your daily running around for the rest of the band?" You ask in an innocent voice, instinctively walking toward the bathroom as you hear the front door being kicked closed and shut, the urge to dry off stronger than the want to continue to banter. "No, I'm simply doing a favor. You know, a thing you do for friends and for people who actually like and care about you. Ever heard of the term?" The taunting and condescending tone in his voice makes you falter for a moment, before you grasp onto a towel and firmly shut the cupboard with an audible and resounding click.

"Fuck this." You mumble, before stalking your way back out to the living room area and going up close to the musician, not stopping until your feet are only an inch apart. Lars pauses mid-faux performance with the new and sleek white electric guitar in his hands, his earlier cocky expression turning cautious as he looks at the neutral and resentful one on yours. Before he can make another asinine comment or tease you any further, your arm straightens out with a sudden strike. The rough cotton comes in contact with his pale and freckled skin and leaves a few inches of rugburn in its wake. The drummer lets out a shocked cry, before placing the guitar down to reach out and wrap his hand around your closest wrist. Lars lets out a grunt as you roughly shove at him to let you go, before he finds momentum and places you flush against the wall behind the two of you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He exclaims, his pupils widened and a hazy mess, while you wince from the pressure engulfing your damp and reddening skin. "You're what's wrong, you asshole," you seethe, your head pushing itself off of the wall to peer forward into his green eyes, the button of your nose brushing the bridge of his. "I've done nothing but be nice to you and your band for the last year, while you've bought and exchanged instruments and tech gear with my brother, and you've been nothing less than a dick to me this entire time. So, what the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Upset a girl can play the drums better than you can, while she's taller than you too?"

Lars clicks his tongue and lets out a humorless laugh, his hand retreating away from your wrist as he takes a step back and looks away from you. You move forward, the adrenaline and frustration in you pivoting you to follow him over to the drum set near the windows facing the front of the building. "Answer me." You urge, your eyes taking in his tense form as he untangles and wraps his fingers in the skin tape your brother left behind for him. Lars glances up at you with a halfhearted glare, before letting out a slow breath and snapping the container of the adhesive shut.

"It's not my fault you don't know how to take a joke," he starts, raising an eyebrow at you as you let out a dumbfounded and disbelieving scoff. "You just seem overly sensitive, and I get bored sometimes, is all." Your eyes zero in on him, and you tilt your head downward to watch him as he sits on the chair near his main instrument. His left hand trembles as he undoes the headband keeping his drumsticks together, and you come to a sudden realization as you observe his unsteadiness. He wasn't jealous or hateful or conniving. He was nervous.

You bite your lip as a thought runs through your mind, and a small hum of amusement exits you before you can help it. Lars' head snaps up at the sound. "What?"

"You said James was going to be coming over tomorrow night to finalize the payment, right?" The drummer nods at you before twisting the wooden sticks in between his taped-up fingers, the absentminded movements almost capturing the entirety of your attention. "I'm just wondering why you came over today, is all. Since James is the one I get along with best, and I'm sure it's the same for him too." Satisfaction warms your gut as you watch his jaw click and strain in place, the muscle contraction making a small chill run itself down your cloth-clad spine.

"So, you want him here instead of me, is what you're saying." He states, his fingers halting all movement and the chair underneath him screeching in protest as he pushes the chair back with full-body force. You wince at the sound and go to open your mouth to reassure him, but falter as he throws down the drumsticks and reaches over the set to grasp ahold at your still wet and dripping t-shirt.

"What," you start to ask, before gasping out loud as he tugs you forward, your stomach pressing up against a cymbal for purchase and your feet almost lifting from the ground. You fluster as he leans up and glares into your eyes, his forehead brushing yours from the closeness and causing your heart rate to accelerate. "Do you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I enjoy getting that reaction out of you, because I'm the only one who can? Today's one of the only morning's we have off before tour preparation, and I'm stuck in this overcrowded apartment, with a girl so dense she can't even tell when someone is trying to flirt with her and get her fucking attention."

You gape as he looks at you earnestly, before setting his face and letting you go. You reach out to encircle your hand around his wrist instead and go to plead as you watch his eyes dim in what seems to be defeat. "Can you please continue? Because I've gone from months of thinking you can't stand being in the same room as me, to you suddenly admitting to actively reaching out on your own to be here with me today. My head is spinning." Lars' expression softens and he twists his wrist to carefully guide you around the drum set, and onto the chair he carelessly shoved away to the side earlier. You let out a trembling breath as he squats down to level with you, the muscles in his thighs and biceps straining from the confining movement.

"When I first met you, I thought you were beautiful, and the guys caught on to my attraction to you immediately. The only way I could get them off of my back was to join in on the teasing the other guys would give you. I don't know when the teasing turned into us insulting each other and getting under each other's skin, but it wasn't my intention to ever hurt your feelings or get you as upset as I did today," he murmurs, his eyes averting yours to look down and caress at the slight tears in the knees of your pants. "I feel like a major dick right now, and I'm sorry."

You furrow your brows as you take in his downtrodden expression, before reaching out to tilt his chin up and make him look at you. "Before you turned into the biggest asshole I've ever met, I thought you were attractive too. So much that my brother started getting on my ass and told me to make a move. But before I could, your insults started to dig in far too deep and I started to come after you and rebut even harder. I know I've hurt and belittled you at times as well, and for that I'm truly sorry." Your free hand's fingers absentmindedly wrap themselves in the middle of his long hair and gently massage his scalp while you apologize, the satisfaction warming your gut earlier coming back full force as you watch his eyes almost slip to a close and his pink lips begin to open in barely hidden bliss.

"You like that?" You whisper out in the cool apartment air, and a soft gasp expels itself from your chest as the fingertips caressing your kneecaps slide up to your thigh and grip the flesh. Lars looks into your eyes and nods, a weighted sigh pillowing out of him as your fingers lightly twist in his mane and tug. Lightning strikes out and nearly makes contact with the windows nearest to the two of you, the bolts of light making the flush on the man in front of you even more apparent during the brief highlight.

"You said you wanted my attention earlier, right?" You ask, your voice barely above a slight tremor of an exhale and nearly incoherent. Lars nods against the grip in his hair and on his chin, and his eyes widen as you tug him forward, his hands once gripping your thighs now grasping onto your waist to steady himself as you bring him forward.

"Come and get it, then." You shutter out, barely able to finish your sentence before his grip turns bruising and his lips ascend on yours.

⚡︎

Warm puffs of heated breath make their way down your bare and goosebump-ridden chest as you lean against the drum set behind you, your lips spread open wide in a permanent gape as the Dane sucks and licks marks into your skin. The tip of a tongue breaches out between kiss chapped lips to tease the top of your left, swollen nipple, and your hips pulse up against the firm and unyielding hands holding you down in place.

The teasing tongue wraps itself around your areola and gently tugs with a light gnarr of teeth, and you cry out at the oversensitivity, your hands reaching down to lightly tap on the shoulders of the man currently trying to taste every inch and centimeter of you.

Lars lifts his head from your chest and removes his mouth from you with a reverberating pop, you blushing as the sound echoes around the room and him sporting a wolfish grin at your reaction. The warm and persistent press of his erection on your leg makes the slick in between your thighs nearly double in amount as you acknowledge the weight of it, and you whine out as your clothed sex pulsates against the soaked material of your uncomfortable bottom clothing. Before you could beg him to move on, he sends you a gentle smile and wetly makes his way down to your navel, your stomach involuntarily sucking in as his appendage makes its way into your belly button.

You let out a light laugh at the ticklish sensation, and you feel him smile against your heating up flesh, the hands holding you down slowly rubbing circles in the bruising skin of your hips. You close your eyes and lick moisture back to your reddened pout as you feel him slide even further down and make it to the beginning of your jeans within a few heat filled seconds.

"Where else do you want me to taste you, angel?" Lars asks you, his face holding on to an innocent expression as one of his hands trail down from your side and its thumb digs into your clothed clit. The musician looks at you with faux confusion as you cry out, his tongue coming to peek out in barely hidden hunger as your chest heaves and your arms give out underneath you. Wooden drumsticks falter and tumble down to the floor, the sound going unnoticed as Lars helps you lift your hips from the chair beneath you and tugs your pants and underwear down in one haste filled yank. You immediately shy away as your overheated and weeping pussy is exposed to the awe looking man kneeling in between your legs, and you freeze in place as he lets out a tsking sound.

"I asked you a question, princess. Where else do you want me to taste you?" You let out an audible gasp as he situates himself and grazes his fingertips everywhere except for where you truly needed them.

"Want your tongue to taste my pussy, want your mouth on me again," you start shakily, letting out a moan as you watch his green eyes darken at your next words. "On your pussy." Lars temporarily closes his eyes and twitches against your leg from your words, and you murmur out his name as his hand travels to cup your sex and tease at it with his calloused palm. "So, if this is my pussy, then I don't have to wait for you to tell me where you want me to taste you, do I?" He asks you, waiting for your nod of consent and agreement, before thumbing your clit and bringing the digit up to his swollen lips. Lars watches as your breath visibly wanes at the sight of him eating your slick so casually, and he bites back a satisfied and predatory smile as he brings his spit slick thumb back down to rub it against your pulsating folds.

"So, I can eat this pussy, tease this pussy," he muses out slowly, watching you writhe in front of him with impatience and desperation. "Use this pussy whenever I'd like?" You nod with fervor and let out a cry of relief as he slowly teases two fingers inside of your tight heat, the relief almost palpable and bringing tears to your eyes. Lars lets out a coo as he watches your fluttery lids begin to dampen with emotion, and he bends down to lightly press a kiss to your trembling thigh, before trailing his head and mouth up to where it truly wants and craves to be.

You melt and slug against the drum set behind you as the first rough swipe of his tongue meets with your enflamed clit, and your nails dig into his shoulders as his free hand pulls you down even further on the chair. Digits curve themselves in the wet heat inside of you, and your legs seize and tense against either side of his sides as he brushes against your sponge-like spot with finesse. Lars moans against your weeping and gushing sex as he feels your walls clench and constrict around his fingers, and his eyes nearly flutter shut as your taste and slick make their way into his inviting and overactive mouth and down his jaw.

The heat in your groin intensifies and a seeming coil snaps as you reach your first orgasm that night, a sob wrenching its way out of your sore and exhausted lungs as your cum accumulates and strings against his fingers and now sopping wet wrist. Lars' eyes open back up fully as he watches you gasp for air above him, and satisfaction fills him as he watches you involuntarily twitch from his ministrations. His cock impatiently twitches in the confines of his fitted jeans as he waits for you to come down from your oversensitive high, his fingers carefully removing themselves from inside of you and coming up to draw figure 8's in your shivering skin.

"You still with me?" He asks you, you letting out a stilted exhale and weakly nodding back a response, unable to catch your bearing enough to verbally respond back. A feeling of disappointment floods through you once you are finally able to lift your head and see that he's still erect in between your legs, his cockhead visibly pulsing against the material of his pants and staining the zipper of them with precum. Lars lets out a soft sound of confusion as your unsteady hands tug him up into a standing position, his hips bucking into the cupping palm of your hand as you rub against his hard dick.

You let out a hush as he begins to protest your movements as you shakily lift yourself off of the drum set from behind you and the ruined chair, and carefully make your way down onto your still trembling knees. "I just want a taste," you dazedly reassure him, your tongue still feeling heavy and slow from your orgasm just a few minutes ago. "Once I can fully process a single thought that isn't only about me wanting to suck your dick, I want you to fuck me against the drum set."

Lars' mouth gapes open and his eyelids flutter at the relief of you releasing his dick from the rough and damp confinement of his jeans, and a small stutter of a sound punches its way out from his chest as the rain pelts itself down on the windowpane outside. Your mouth begins to water once his length bounces itself against his groin once it's freed, and you waste no time before sliding your tongue out of your mouth and wrapping it around his flushed, red tip.

The Dane lets out a sharp gasp as you immediately slide down to the hilt once your tongue collects the copious amount of his pre-ejaculate, and his fingers run down to make purchase in your wet locks as you hungrily swallow around him.

"Holy shit." He shakily whispers out, the muscles in his stomach taut and tightening as you mouth fuck him for all he's worth, your tongue sliding out as you deepthroat him and moan at the feeling of the tip of his dick meeting with the back of your throat.

You lightly tap against his hips with one of your spit-soaked palms and let out a positive sounding hum, your eyes fluttering shut and eyelashes collecting stray and heavy tears once he begins to fuck your mouth and throat. Calloused fingers tear their way through the strands of your hair as his hips make audible contact with your chin, going so far into your throat that the tip of your tongue makes contact with his tightening and raising ballsack.

Lars has to force himself to slowly slide out of the tight heat of your mouth and cup the base of his dick before he orgasms, the tip of his cock still weeping out a few drops of pre-release as he takes in your disheveled look and state. Thick tear stains run themselves down your cheeks and bubbled spit collects itself in a messy spread along your chin, and you lightly rub at the hood of your sex as your arousal drips down onto the wooden floorboards beneath the two of you.

"God, you're such a fucking dream." Lars grunts out, his fingers slowly removing themselves from your hair and bending down to wrap his shaky palms around the slick sides of your waist. You let out a pleased sound as you're lifted up with ease and planted back onto your feet, the sound soon turning into a gasp as you're steadily maneuvered and bent over the drum set, the chair you released on earlier getting shoved to the side once again.

The drummer lets out a hum of approval as he watches you obediently spread your legs wide and fight your inner shyness, the slick running down your thighs enticing him even further as he nearly mounts himself over you. "What'd you say about me fucking you against my drum set earlier, again?" He casually asks you, you beginning to feel small in this position as he towers over you, a blush fighting its way up to your messy cheeks as you hear and feel him slicking himself up with your release and wetness.

You can only whisper and beg out a please, before his length slides into you with an experienced and hearty thrust, his tip hitting your g-spot like it was made for you and this moment entirely. Lightning strikes out again and paints itself white against the two of you, as you sob and hold onto a cymbal as you're pounding into from behind.

Slick and disgustingly messy sounds create a cacophony in the small apartment, combined with your strangled and gasped out moans of pleasure, and you let out a silent scream as the man behind you slides a hand down your front and pinches at your clit, his mouth only releasing itself from your hickey-ridden shoulder to playfully muse out.

"Knew you'd sound better screaming for me, rather than at me." You're unable to rebut back as your second orgasm takes over and your release soaks the front of his still thrusting thighs. A hand delicately wraps itself around your throat as he continues to fuck up into you with reckless abandon. You let out silent gasps of pleasure and overstimulation as he uses you against his set, the partial deprivation of air making you feel deliciously lightheaded. Lars moans out against your ruined skin and pulses himself inside of you as he fills you to the brim, the sensitive skin of the tops of your thighs beginning to sting from his once seemingly never-ending thrusts.

Thick globs of cum run their way down your weakened legs as he slowly removes himself from inside of you and gently turns you around, your body relaxing in his embrace as he brings you forward and into a spit coated kiss.

"You doing alright? I was a little bit rough with you." Lars' eyes run their way down your exhausted and beat figure, and you nod against him with the rest of the energy you've got left in you, before slumping forward and closing your eyes.

"How about we both get in the shower, and then come back out and clean up this mess?" You tiredly open your eyes and let out a shocked and weak bout of laughter as you look down at the floor beneath you. A thick consistency of your combined releases drip themselves down into a puddle on the floor from the drum set and the chair is tumbled over and lying down on its side, the curtain closest to it now on the floor and tangled around a leg of it. If you look close enough, you can still see the shine of your cum on the sitting area of the chair. You quickly blush and glance away as your feet are removed from the ground once again as he lifts you up. And as you tilt your head back and allow yourself to be carried away and toward the bathroom you stormed out of earlier, you let a small smile grace your face as lightning resounds and vibrates the floorboards beneath the two of you.

You were glad he made his way over to your brother's apartment on his own, and eventually to you, and into you.

hey babes can you write a filthy smut with current James? it’s a NEED 🫶

Current!James would be just as active as his younger self but would be much more self-assured and confident in bed, and much more teasing. He'd start off with you sitting up, your back resting against the headboard and your legs spread wide open, gripped apart with his large and calloused hands supporting the stretch. He'd be sprawled out in between your hickey-ridden thighs, his mouth attached and lapping at your soaked entrance.

His beard would be embedding itself into your sensitive skin and leaving a red hue in its wake, and his nose would be persistently nudging against your swollen and abused clit. He'd tease and edge the hell out of you, his own cock jumping against the sheets below him in his briefs and begging for attention. He'd feel immense gratification as he watched you beg for release above him, your eyelashes damp and you using all of your own personal restraint to be good and not thrust your hips forward to ride his tongue.

He'd run his tongue up and down your folds and curl it around your nub until you'd begin to shake and pant out into the bedroom, before descending his way back down to your thighs and biting into your skin, his tattooed fingers barely making themselves into you before pulling out and collecting up your essence. He'd look you straight in the eye as he'd bring his sopping fingers up to his mouth, moaning at the taste of you enveloping his tastebuds and grinning to himself as you cried out for him to finally do something.

He'd taking pity on you and free himself from his underwear, and you'd watch with unhidden desire as his cock curves up and bumps against his navel, the tip already blushed red and weeping with precum.

"Is this what you need, baby? All you had to do was ask." He'd taunt you, before wrapping his rough palm around his shaft and groaning out from the relief he felt from the pressure. You'd nod and whimper out his name as he made his way back to you, lowering himself back onto his stomach and finally giving you the first release you so desperately needed.

He'd instinctually find his way back to your sex, his mouth immediately finding purchase on your clit and his middle and index fingers curling up inside of you with an accommodating and easy slide. He'd find your sponge-like spot with absolute finesse, already knowing the in's and out of you like the back of his hand, and you'd immediately begin to lose yourself; the warmth coiling in your stomach threatening to tether and break as his fingers fucked themselves into you with an unrelenting pace, while his lips curled around your bud to suck harshly.

James would watch you unbiddenly as you'd orgasm from his ministrations, his dick throbbing against the bedsheets as the force of your orgasm would cause your release to squirt out and land on his already soaking wet facial hair. You'd cry out and yank against his short and greying locks as he'd kiss and lick you dry, refusing to allow a single drop of you to go to waste.

"You think you can still take me, baby? I'm not done with you just yet." He'd ask and state, letting out a huff of laughter as your hips would raise at the light tap he'd give your pussy. You'd nod frantically as an answer, already eager for another round, this time with him inside of you and stretching you out. "Good girl."

You two would both sigh in relief as he entered you, each inch of his rigid and thickly veined cock sheathing itself inside and pressing against your pulsating walls with intent until his hips would meet with yours. James would hardly pause inside of you, only waiting until you fully relaxed around him before beginning to pivot into you with an unresolving pace. His arms would encircle themselves around your trembling form as he lost himself in the tight heat of you, and you'd grip onto him tight as the strength and force behind his thrusts would push you up against the headboard once again.

James would free an arm to reach up and grip your chin, guiding you to look up at him as he'd thrust himself up into you to the hilt, before bending down to rest his forehead against yours.

"Always so eager to get fucked," He'd grunt out against you, his long tongue coming out to tease the tip of yours as your mouth would gape open, you overwhelmed from his sheer length and girth and how impossibly deep he could reach inside of you. "Not going to stop until you're filled with my seed, and you're covered in me." He'd promise you as his hips would slam forward, before meeting with yours and causing an audible squelch to reverberate around the room.

You'd cum again only minutes later, overstimulated, with your legs seizing around his waist and his hand delicately wrapped around your throat. His gaze would be on you as your tears ran down his wrist, your head lolling forward and your eyes no longer able to focus as he continued to fuck into you with reckless abandon. He'd moan and pant against you as he filled you to the brim, praises spilling out of him as he'd flip you two over so you could sit on top of him and temporarily rest.

Only a few moments would pass before he'd gently lift you off of him and could feel himself stir and begin to harden again, as he watched a copious amount of semen slowly flood out of your puffy hole. You'd whimper as his fingers would gently find their way back into you and as you felt his thumb teasingly graze against your still overly sensitive clit.

"I said I wasn't going to stop until you were covered in me, didn't I?" He'd murmur against you and would eventually find his way back inside of your stretched heat once you calmed down and could collect yourself, just to lose yourself once again soon after.

The night would end hours later, with you heaving for breath against the ruined sheets beneath you, your watery eyes blearily taking in James lighting up a cigar and resting against the now slightly bent headboard, completely lax- his blue eyes unwavering as he takes in your debauched and bruised body, satisfaction filling his gut as he watches you slump down in satiated exhaustion.

Hell's Angel 𓆩𓆪 James Hetfield (18+)

The comforting and familiar mixed scent of cigar smoke and stale lager wraps itself around you like a layer of protectant as you make your way inside of the bar, the crunch of the empty peanut shells and glass bottle caps underneath your booted feet adding a much-needed inch of height on you as you trudge your way forward and fully inside.

The weighted and triple latched door slamming behind you gathers no one's attention, as the bar is already fully alive and packed with anyone and everyone, with their screams and joyous cacophonies almost overpowering the hums of the mufflers emanating from the bike and repair room only a few handfuls of yards away.

Your eyes traipse over the ever-growing crowd of prospects and guests as you try to find a familiar face or patched leather jacket, the ghosted weight of your boyfriend's still feeling like it was weighing your shoulders down as you do so. Goosebumps raise and dance their way along your partially bare forearms, and a frown attempts to tug your lips down into a permanent imprint, as the cool draft of wind teasingly reminds you that it's no longer there.

Before you can get too into your head about the whole situation once again, an obnoxious and wilted whistle gathers your attention from the direction of the multitude of pool and gambling tables. Your eyes narrow and squint, before latching onto one of your best, and currently very drunk, friend's. A gentle chortle of a laugh bleeds its way through your lips as you get closer to him and nudge your way through the overwhelming crowd, the sight of Lars barely holding on to a slippery pitcher of beer in between his halfhearted and barely cupped palms helps to temporarily push your worrisome thoughts about the future to the back of your mind.

You rush forward and place a palm on the bottom of the glass before it can fully slip out of his hands, and a sarcastic smile etches its way on your lips as he squawks out a thankful gasp and a sound of wondered awe. Kirk greets you with a wide and affectionate grin as he catches sight of you from his seat on top of a crowded and messy betting table, his hands full of gambling chips and crumpled dollar bills as he waves them at you. You return him one back, warmth blooming in your chest as you watch him let out a celebratory shout and yank another fifty out of a burly and clearly irritated man's fist. You quickly turn your head back to the drunken Dane once the angered man stands up and slams a hand down on the table, not interested in seeing another random prospect act out in anger from losing against one of the best poker players in the entirety of the Hells Angels motorcycle crew.

Lars sends you a rewarding and wide grin as you help him sit back down safely, the sound of the leather of his jacket squeaking against the cool and hard material of the chair making you almost guffaw from the nearly animated sound, but you somehow manage to hold it in. Lars laughs anyway, before letting out a sigh of contentment and sliding down into a messy heap of limbs.

"Where's Cliff and Jason?" You ask, your lips almost brushing against the shell of his ear as you bend down to level with his slumped figure. The two men in question are blearily and haphazardly pointed at, before Lars closes his eyes and lets out a resounding yawn. An amusement filled grin finds purchase on your face as you watch him fall asleep so easily in the chaotic bar, the peaceful expression on his face seemingly looking out of place, as you remember the stressed look painted on his own just a few days prior. Your fingers twitch as you fight back the urge to push the random and long stray strands of hair away from his cheekbone, completely unaware of the man stumbling his way over to you.

A jolt jumps through you as a large hand wraps itself around your left arm, and you snap your head in its direction as an unfamiliar voice loudly invades its way through your overactive eardrums. A sound of panic tears itself through your chest as you're yanked up into a fully standing position, and your heart begins to beat erratically as an unknown man comes in to your line of view once you're stood. "Haven't seen such a pretty back warmer in such a long time. Bet there's only one of you in each district, huh? How lucky of me to make my way on over here tonight." Your upper lip promptly curls at the derogatory and degrading term, and you're quick to yank your limb out of the man's grasp, hiding a wince as his unruly and uneven nails dig into your skin with the harsh movement.

"That's funny, because I seem to fit in here a hell of a lot better than you do, all things considered," you grit out, satisfaction filling and replacing the earlier onset fear and panic inside of you, as you watch the predatory and condescending look fall straight off of his face as you continue to speak. "Nice missing patch on the back of your jacket, by the way. Seared off, am I right? Who'd you piss off that badly? Or were you kicked out and dropped off here for flirting with and harassing women twenty years younger than you, from over where you're from as well?" The man scoffs and raises his chunky hand in your direction, and you watch in disbelief as he mimics the motion of a backhanded slap.

"Women from where I come from never talk back to an elder, like you just did. How about I show you how we deal with insolent little bitches like you, instead?" He offers to you in a rough and taunting tone, his eyes widened with barely concealed rage and a vein protruding from the center of his forehead. You take in a deep breath and prepare to jump back as he swings his hand forward and in your direction. Before you can duck and try to make your way into a safer part of the crowd or bar area, a ringed fist engulfs his own and twists it behind the older man's back. Your eyes widen as your boyfriend comes into view from behind the drunkard, and the relief you feel is palpable as you watch him tower over the now fearful man.

"Women from where I come from are heavily protected and respected, and I recommend you take up this kind offer to be escorted out by my men, before I rip the entirety of your arms off and replace them with the Ape Hanger handlebars on my bike, you old, drunken fuck." James spits out, his eyes and expression only softening up once they cascade over your tense and nearly trembling figure. James nods once, and you begin to hear movement coming from all sides and corners of the room. Cliff and Jason make their way forward from behind James and they each roughly collect an arm of the unknown man, your shoulders hunching inward and visibly flinching as your ears pick up on the man's screams overpowering the sound of Black Sabbath reverberating from and throughout the building's speakers.

Kirk hurriedly jumps off the table and wraps an arm around you, before gently turning you around and guiding you towards and past the bike and repair room. You refuse to turn around as you hear and feel a heavy thump hit the wooden and hard floor beneath your feet, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel a familiar and comforting hand lightly push your head into the safety of your friend's shoulder.

"Everything will be alright, doll. Let's get you back and into one of James' rooms."

You couldn't help but feel uneasy as the music stops and the loud creak of the bar's front door makes its way all the way back to you. Multiple pairs of feet make their way toward the entry, and you're the only one out of you and Kirk to flinch, as a muted and heavy weight collects and slams itself down on the uneven asphalt of the parking lot outside. Kirk quietly shuts the door behind you and sits you down on the chair nearest to your boyfriend's disheveled and folder stack-covered desk, his hands lightly squeezing at your shoulders in a comforting way and bringing stinging tears to your eyes.

"You know we'd never let any drunk fucker put their hands on you," you nod mutely and send him a watery smile as he crouches down to your sitting height and sends you a worried glance. You twist your arm to ease the discomfort emanating from the slightly bleeding scratch marks on your forearm, and Kirk lets out a curse as your injury comes into view. "We need to get that jackass off the property before James sees you. He'll kill him if he's still here once he does." He mutters to himself, before standing back up to his full height and hastily making his way back out to the front of the bar and building.

You let out a tired and shaky exhale as you force yourself to relax in the chair you were placed in, your eyes taking in the photos of you and the rest of the gang encircled around his small office, his family. You stop yourself from getting up and walking to the bathroom and scrubbing the feeling of that man's hands off of you, knowing James would want to do it himself. Clutching your middle with your uninjured arm and making yourself small, your breath begins to finally even out as the music begins to play once again and heavily booted feet rush their way into the office and over to you.

James lets out a sigh of relief once you're in his line of sight again, the angered expression on his face melting into one of exhaustion as he resolutely closes his office's door for privacy. Your lips settle down in a frown and you go to stand up to reassure him nothing serious had happened, before letting out a quiet hiss as the skin around your scratches strain and nearly fully reopen with your movement.

James' attention zeroes in on the obvious red and jagged lines on your arm and wraps his palm around the doorknob to yank it open again, only stopping himself from walking back out and beating the drunkard to a pulp when your eyes begin to water, and your bottom lip starts to quiver.

Your boyfriend quick strides over to you and encircles you into a warm and protective embrace, before carefully lifting you up and taking you into the bathroom, where he can properly clean you up and make sure that you're okay.

𓆩𓆪

"It's not your fault." You begin, pursing your lips and quieting down as your boyfriend sends you a glare from underneath his layered and astray hair fanning his face, his already bruising knuckles pausing momentarily from pressing a saline solution into your skin with a cotton pad as he looks at you.

"Don't Good Will Hunting me. If I hadn't gotten back here in time, that old drunken fuck would have put his hands on you. More than he already has," James averts his eyes back down to your injury as his voice begins to soften, his true and young age seeping into his tone with forlorn exhaustion weighing in on it. "I shouldn't have listened to the others and invited everyone in for a celebration so soon after the first round of initiations. We don't even fully know these fucks, and look what's already happened to you."

You lift your uninjured arm and lightly brush a few strands out and away from his eyes, a small smile gaining momentum on your lips as he still melts into your touch, no matter the circumstance.

"It wasn't just the rest of the guys; I encouraged it too. You've been busting your ass to try and make things work after your uncle retired, and we just wanted to get everyone together to finally relax after a few months of stress and hard work," you try to soothe, your thumb delicately brushing over one of his dimples as he goes back to cleaning up and sanitizing your wound. "You deserved the day off and small break, and it doesn't matter if one old bastard got a little too handsy. What matters is that you got here in time, and I had Kirk and the other guys here with me too, in case it all could have gotten out of hand. I was at fault for not calling out for help, I didn't think the guy would want to get so violent with me. I thought he'd just spit some shit and walk away, like the rest of them usually do."

James bites back a rebuttal and instead just nods, his knuckles pulsating a relentless protest as he expands his fingers to intricately wrap the clean gauze around your forearm, its material already saturated in antibiotic ointment and disinfectant.

You sigh out quietly in the bathroom's tense air and look down at the ring James got you on your first anniversary as you continue your ministrations on his cheek- the snake studded skull logo of his district entangled with your number in the crew, alongside with your birth month's gemstone and your initials. You glance down at the small band underneath the weighed down silver and smile to yourself this time, the promise that came with the ring being kept like an oath for the past five years you two have been and treasured together.

"You're upset with me." You state, your left foot beginning to ants around the carpet surrounding the toilet you're sat on as you watch James put the first aid kit away.

"I'm upset that you didn't call out for help, and that you let that pig put his hands on you," You flinch back from the harsh tone he speaks with, the reaction instinctual even though you know his tone wasn't directed at you. "I'm upset that you came here tonight, without my jacket on. How else is anyone supposed to know that you're my old lady? You're surrounded by a bunch of men, a good majority of them being at least ten years older than us and our best friends, and you walked in here looking like fresh meat." You cringe at the old term of endearment, but turn to face him anyway, watching hesitantly as he frustratingly runs a ring clad hand through his tussled mane.

You push yourself up with your good arm from the low sitting toilet and ignore your boyfriend's protests as you stand, walking over to him and wrapping your arm around his neck to tug him down to your height. You press an unyielding and affirmation filled killed on his stress bitten lips, your eyelids fluttering shut as he encases you against him and lifts you off of your feet. A silent gasp breathes itself out of your now slightly gaping lips as the coolness of the sink brushes against the back of your bare legs. James takes advantage of the fact, his slick tongue sliding in between your plush lips to wrap itself around yours and beckon you in closer, your spine arching to melt your front against his and to become one.

The bitter sensation of beer engulfs your senses as his taste envelops itself on your tongue, and your fingers grab ahold of his locks as his hands come up to grip at the flimsy material of your t-shirt, the coolness of the air in the restroom beginning to feel warm and charged as the two of you refamiliarize yourselves with each other.

You let out a pant as he slides his way in between your legs and flush against the sink holding you up, the movement causing your skirt to ruffle up and rest on the upper parts of the outsides of your thighs, your dampening underwear catching onto the draft in the air and causing you to shiver.

James removes his biker jacket from his shoulders and tosses it, it somehow finding solid purchase on the shower curtain rod multiple feet away. Your boyfriend detaches from you and lets out a light groan, his tongue peeking out to catch the remnants of your taste still clinging itself on his kissed red lips.

"I'm not upset with you, baby. I'm upset for you," He murmurs, his lips finding yours with each vowel he makes physical, a strand of electrified spit keeping you two together in a roundabout and intrinsic way. "I just want you to be safe, and I feel like I failed you by taking the day off and taking the break you guys offered to me earlier. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I could never be upset with you, especially after all that you've done for me, for the crew, our family. Hell's Angels wouldn't be a damn thing without you, and you know that. Knowing and seeing that man disrespect you made my skin crawl, and it made me upset for you because you deserve so much more than that."

"And you give me so much more than that, every day." You reassure him, your head swimming and thoughts seemingly slowing down from the close proximity of having him so close to you again. James' eyes glaze over from the praise and heat spikes its way to your core as his hands slide their way down to your bare and exposed thighs and squeeze. The coldness of his rings and the press of the sink against your backside make your lids flutter, and you moan out as his hold tightens and spreads your legs even further apart.

"Yeah?" He asks you, resting his forehead against yours and staring straight into your eyes as his right hand and bruising knuckles brush against your clothed clit. A harsh exhale of a breath bursts its way out of your chest, and James lets out a husky laugh as your thighs tighten around his, shaking and restless. "How much do I give you, angel?"

"You give me so much, spoil me so well." You whimper out, a fingertip of his pushing the damp cotton of your underwear away and dipping itself into your soaking wet folds. James moans from the praise and the feeling of your velvet-like heat, and his mouth begins to salivate from the sounds spilling and pouring themselves out of your mouth.

Your forehead disconnects from his as you toss your head back, a combination of a moan and a laugh lodging itself in your throat as the back of your head makes contact with the mirror embedded in the wall behind you. James bites back a grin at the sound and bends down to kiss you once again, as he slides a thick and long index finger past your entrance and inside of you.

Your lips widen and part as he crooks his digit and begins to slowly fuck it in and out of you, the slick and thick globs and strands of your arousal making a sinful sound echo in the room surrounding the two of you. "Such a good fucking girl for me, baby. Who else could make you this wet, make a mess out of you so easily?" Pleasure filled tears fill your waterline as he adds his middle finger and roughly taps and massages his palm against your spasming clit. You cry out as he makes contact with your sponge-like spot without even trying, and you feel your abs begin to contract as your first orgasm quickly approaches.

"Nobody can make me feel as good as you," you sob, your hips rising up from the ceramic to ride his fingers as the tightness in your middle begins to snap and break apart. "Nobody ever will. It's just you and it always will be."

"Look at me," your boyfriend orders, and you do. Wild and dilated blue eyes stare back at you, with a facial expression that looks like he was orgasming with you as well, a look of being fucked out of breath painted on his features while he brings you over the edge. White flashes in your vision, but you maintain eye contact anyway, teetering on the verge of overstimulation as his hand and fingers massage and continue pounding themselves into you.

You have to reach down and force him to stop, your trembling fingertips pressing against his cloyed skin and into his hammering pulse point, your chest heaving for breath as your body shivers against his upper half. James closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as your walls constrict around his ruined and messy fingers and knuckles, his cockhead beet red in the confines of his jeans and leaking an embarrassing amount of precum against the rough fabric of his zipper.

"Think you can take another one?" He asks you, reaching up with his clean hand to brush the hair away from your face as you continue to struggle to catch your breath. Exhaustion and weariness run through you, but so does excitement and the craving to be filled, so you say yes, regardless of the fact that your body might not be ready for another orgasm or be able to take it.

You let out an accumulation of a laugh and a gasp as you're lifted off of the sink and instructed to grab ahold of James' jacket, and you feel a wide and exuberant grin against the heated skin of your neck as you're carried back into your boyfriend's office, and right on top of his desk.

Before you can even voice out a complaint, his large and calloused palms are gently tugging off your shirt and unclasping your bra with one hand, his rough tongue dancing its way down your neck and hooking itself around one of your already swollen and taut nipples. By the time he's got his sharp and straight teeth embedded in the cotton of your arousal-soaked underwear to tug them down, you're already a panting and sweaty mess. Your injured forearm is elevated and resting on a stack of folders already finished by his tenacity, your other holding up your weight and helping you stabilize as you watch him travel his way down your trembling legs. His biker jacket is the only thing keeping you partially warm from the cool air, draped around your shoulders like a permanent branding and much more accepted and welcomed than the weight and touch of any other man's hand.

Hickeys and love bites are sucked into your bruising skin, and you have to repeatedly plead for him to finally fuck you before he decidedly detaches himself and his mouth from the soft flesh of your inner thighs and calves.

James mounts himself over you on the desk, his strong arms caging you in and gifting you warmth as he carefully inserts himself inside of your tight and soaked heat. You both gasp out in relief, the air in between you becoming frenzied and the sounds of skin connecting and shallow whimpers soon follow thereafter.

Even and ruled nails make their way down your partners back as he arches into you, his ballsack smacking against your backside and creating a beautiful red hue as he fucks into you with passion and reckless abandon. You scream out as his tip brushes against your spot and even further in to reach your cervix, and he holds you down in place as you cum and make a mess against him.

You hold on tight, and attempt wrap your legs around his waist as he continues to use you for his pleasure, one hand holding you in place by your hair as you slide up and down the polished and finished wood of his desk by the force of his thrusts, and the other connected and interlocked with yours. "You look so beautiful, baby." and "You were made to take my cock, weren't you?" are whispered into your damp and blushing skin, and you reach another handful of climaxes before he finally reaches his. Warmth floods into you and paints your walls white, and James moans out against your feverish skin as your walls continue to tighten around him and milk him for all that he's worth. You let out a gasp as his hips continue to stutter into you, as if he was subconsciously trying to breed you and fill you even further with his seed.

"How was you break?" You ask him once you're both fully satiated and sat in his large chair, his arms encircled around you and holding you close, sticky skin on sticky skin. A pleased and fulfilled hum is vibrated and almost purred against you, and you place your forehead against his damp and muscled chest as you wait for his answer.

"The break we just had now, or the one I had earlier?" He teasingly asks you, falling into hysterical laughter as you swat at him and soon follow suit, tears of mirth making their way down both of your guy's cheeks while you two fall apart together this time, head resting on each other's and heartbeats eventually aligning to create a single and steady beat once you both calm down.

"Oh, shut up, you know what I meant!"

𓆩𓆪

Cliff sends the officer a sarcastic grin and wave as he drives away, before sneakily placing the blunt he hid in his long sleeve in between his perked lips and letting out a sigh of relief at the feel. Kirk lifts a lighter up for him and flicks the flame, sending his best friend and Percenter a tipsy smile as he's offered a muffled thanks.

"Any chance the police are going to go with the story we just half assed and gave to them?" He asks, the ending of each of his words sounding slightly slurred and overjoyed. Cliff shrugs and momentarily closes his eyes in bliss as the smoke pleasantly burns through his lungs, instantly opening them back up as the blunt gets yanked out from in between his index and middle fingers.

"You guys are such assholes, letting me fall asleep around all of the new guys," Lars tiredly rasps out, narrowly missing a still burning and loose ash landing on the bare skin of his knee as he squats down on the front porch, his eyes barreling in and staring down the police car as it makes its way down the now abandoned and dark highway. "Last time I did that, it was our initiation, and you two cunts drew a dick on me."

Cliff grins widely as Kirk lets out a sharp cry of laughter, his left hand holding onto his side as he howls with amusement. Lars rolls his eyes and takes another hit, before nearly knocking his friend over with his elbow as he tries passing it back to him. Coughs ring out and become visible in the thick air of the beginning of winter, and they all calm down and huddle next to each other on the closest step for warmth.

"Next time, we'll draw a labia." Kirk mumbles out, his head falling to the side and landing on Cliff's shoulder, causing him to drop the rest of the roach. Laughter tears out of the man instead of anger, and he quickly steps on the filter to cease the flame, his laughter becoming painful and uncontainable as he looks over and see's the Dane shake his head and wrap his arms around himself, the smile on his face still visible in the dark of the night as he pretends to be annoyed and irritated.

"I hate all of you assholes, every single one of you." Kirk clicks his tongue and blindly reaches out for him, before placing him in a headlock and bringing him into a choking hold.

"We love you too, Larzy Poo!" Lars gasps for breath as his best friend continues to choke hug him, and only does Kirk let up once Cliff lightly raps against his curl covered forehead to let him know that he's unknowingly loving their friend to death.

"What happened while I was out?" Lars innocently asks once he can breathe and speak again, raising an amused eyebrow as two of his closest friends look at each other and then try to yell out an answer first.

"James knocked out a fucking geezer-" "James pounded an old man, and now he's pounding his chick!"

"Shut the fuck up! No way!"

Metallica Masterlist

⭒ James Hetfield ⭒ Requests (open)

Playtime (16+) ˚ (suggestive, bondage contemplation, ambiguous ending)

Play Me (18+) ˚ (phone sex, partial long-distance relationship, ambiguous ending)

Taste Test (18+) ⭒ (threesome with jason, vampire!au, ambiguous ending)

Summon Me (18+) It Will Come Back (18+) ˚ (demon!james, dorm sex, oral sex while standing/carrying receiver, fingering, minor blood play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, ambiguous/happy ending)

Deprivation (18+) ˚ (breath play, hotel sex, happy ending)

Sunny Side Up (18+) ˚ (morning sex, kitchen sex, creampie, happy ending)

Missus Eat Pavement (18+) Mister Meet Gravel (18+) ˚ (rockstar!james, smalltown!reader, oral sex, ambiguous ending)

Desert Hills Motel (18+) ˚ (traveling!james, smalltown!reader, hotel sex, happy ending)

Add One More ˚ (domestic fluff, partial angst, happy ending)

Leap Of Faith (18+) ˚ (angst, backstage sex, rough sex, happy ending)

After Afterparty (18+) ˚ (fluff, hotel sex, shower sex, long-distance relationship, happy ending)

Hell's Angel (18+) ˚ (hellsangels!au, angst, violence, sex on top of a desk, drug use, happy ending)

Backseat Paradise (18+) ˚ (car sex, light angst, fluff, partial long-distance relationship, happy ending)

Counterproductive Tendencies (multi-chapter, 18+) ˚ part one, part two, part three, part four (fluff, smut, angst, drug use, alcoholism, semi-public sex, oral sex) ⭒ ongoing series

Needy Little Fucking Thing (18+) ˚ (softdom!james, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, happy ending)

(Un)Still Shots (18+) ˚ (semi-public sex, sexually explicit photography, breath play, fingering, dry humping, happy ending)

A to Z (18+) ˚ (alphabetical sex list, oral sex, semi-public sex, fingering, bondage, phone sex, mutual masturbation, creampie, happy ending)

Backstage Birthday Pass (18+) ˚ (birthday surprise, fluff, smut, oral sex, fingering, dressing room sex, mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie, happy ending)

⭒ Kirk Hammett

A Nightmare On Elm Street ˚ (fluff, slightly suggestive, happy ending)

Scream (18+) ˚ (couch sex, rough sex, horror movie elements, happy ending)

Unwind Me (18+) ˚ (fluff, backstage sex, happy ending)

Room For More (18+) ˚ (threesome with jason, dominant!jason, submissive!kirk, backstage sex, oral sex, fluff, light angst, happy ending, polyamory)

A to Z (18+) ˚ (alphabetical sex list, oral sex, mutual masturbation, public sex, cumshot, bondage, sex tape, roleplay, voyeurism, happy ending)

Pages Deep (18+) ˚ (fluff, smut, mutual masturbation, fingering, partial edging, unprotected sex, creampie, happy ending)

⭒ Jason Newsted

Taste Test (18+) ⭒ (threesome with james, vampire!au, ambiguous ending)

Extended Cut (18+) ˚ (submissive!jason, studio sex, oral sex, ambiguous ending)

Room For More (18+) ˚ (threesome with kirk, dominant!jason, submissive!kirk, backstage sex, oral sex, fluff, light angst, happy ending, polyamory)

A to Z (18+) ˚ (alphabetical sex list, begging, bondage, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, sixty-nine, creampie, roleplaying, semi-public sex, voyeurism, vibrators, happy ending)

⭒ Lars Ulrich

Ride The Lightning (18+) ˚ (angst, rough sex, sex against drum set, happy ending)

Baseline (18+) ˚ (partial angst, fluff, oral sex, public sex in shower room, rough sex, creampie, happy ending)

⭒ Cliff Burton

You Make Loving Fun ˚ (domestic fluff, partial long-distance relationship, happy ending)

Follow My Lead ˚ (fluff, surprise birthday party, happy ending)

Unwind Me ⋅☆⋅ Kirk Hammett (18+)

The brazen sounds of cheers and drunken laughter ring out and dance their way backstage in the naturally dimming light, the joyous sounds causing you to grin to yourself and shake your head in amusement as you push a speaker even further down the now packed and narrow hallway. A man with a slightly sick looking grimace etched on his face stumbles his way out of a nearby dressing room and right towards you, and you quickly jump out of the way, your right shoulder bumping into and against an array of sharp boxes behind you amid your haste. He makes it to the bathroom just in time and you sigh in relief, before hunching forward and pressing your weight back onto the heavy machinery in front of you, willing yourself to ignore the pulsating ache emanating from the soon-to-be bruised skin underneath your itchy and sweat-clad crew shirt.

You twist your wrist and momentarily close your eyes in gratitude as you feel an elastic roll itself down your clothed forearm and rest upon your kickstarting and erratic pulse point, feeling eager to tie your hair up once you finish up the task of getting the rest of the equipment together and cased out. The earlier crew did their best within their scheduled time slot, but even they couldn't finish up the job in that time. Guitars and other smaller instruments leisured haphazardly against everything from coolers and stairwells, and to the edge of the stage the boys had just recently performed on, and you force your eyes to reopen as you tiredly make your way over to the towering and newly organized rows of the Marshall and Hiwatt speakers, near to the end of the hall.

Squatting down to untangle and release the secured latch of the strap encircled around the equipment you just carted over, you slowly raise your head as you finally come to acknowledge a familiar set of shoes paused and waiting only a few feet away from you in your peripheral vision.

A frenzied and fast travelling flush makes its way up to your cheekbones and down your neck before you even attempt to make eye contact with the man standing to the side of you, and you let out a shaky exhale as wide brown eyes peer back down at you in earnest once you do.

"Kirk," you breathe, your eyes glancing over with mild interest as they take in the clenching of his fingers around his flimsy cup after you say his name in greeting. You finish up removing the safety strap and stand before you could allow yourself to put too much thought into his reaction, hurriedly pushing it to the back of your mind as you try to hide your blush in the slightly frizzy curtaining of your hair. "Enjoying the new year so far?" you try to casually ask him, hoping you don't sound as nearly affected as you feel from just by having him nearby.

The lead guitarist nods absentmindedly as his eyes rake themselves over your fatigued figure, his plush and full lips lifting up to relax in a soft smile as he leans forward to rest his drink on the nearest ledge closest to him. "Let me." He offers kindly, already moving forward and gently guiding you back with a hand on your hip before you could even verbalize a protest. Your already unstable breath stutters in your chest as the rough patches of his palm blazes heat against your dampened flesh, the added weight of his large hand making the reddened hue of your cheeks darken even more.

Kirk's thumb spreads out to caress the indented skin of the beginning of your hipbone, before leaving entirely as he goes to lift the piece of equipment on top of the set with ease. You quietly watch as he casually walks over and places the speaker on top of another, before returning over to your side to grasp onto an amp. You go to reach down to secure a zip tie around its long cord to try and be helpful, before stopping midway and letting out a strained cry as the skin around your bruising shoulder painfully constricts and stretches. Kirk's eyes widen at the sound, and a multitude of other pairs zero in to stare at you as you clench yours shut. Your uninjured shoulder jumps up as a hand encases itself around it, before relaxing as the coolness of a familiar ring grazes against the bare part of your lower neck.

"Are you alright, babe? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" Kirk asks you quietly, the hand on you guiding you to stand behind him for a bit more privacy and a few more steps away from the tipsy bystanders. You go to shake your head and falsely reassure him that you're fine, before opening up your eyes and looking into his worried ones. You instead nod in defeat and lightly rest some of your weight on him, your left hand coming up to gesture toward your right shoulder.

"I thought some guy was going to spew on me and the cart, so I rushed to the side and jabbed myself on a few sharp boxes." Kirk lets out a soft sound of sympathy, his usually rough and quick hands delicately rubbing small circles in your tense skin and muscles to hopefully help you relax. "Will you let me take you to one of the backrooms and get you some ice? Maybe check you out a little bit better?"

"But the equipment," You start before trailing off weakly, peering up into his eyes with furrowed and pinched brows. Your resolve quickly titters off into little to nothing as he continues to dote on you and caress your skin, his intense gaze on you keeping you feeling warm. "You've already been here and on the clock for over twelve hours; the rest of your coworkers are either already at their hotel or with the other guys getting shitfaced, and we've still got another two days before we have to get everything cleared out and back on the road." Kirk tilts your chin up and holds you in place as he takes another step forward and closer to you, your chests almost pressed together and becoming one.

"How about you focus on yourself for once and let someone take care of you. Let me take care of you." His tone of voice being soft yet leaving no room for any further resistance or questioning, as his fingertip lightly taps itself on the cleft of your chin. The tips of your scuffed up shoes brush against his as you subconsciously and unknowingly lean forward in his soft grip, your eyelids feeling heavier and weighed down as his comforting scent wafts over to you through the close proximity. Kirk raises an eyebrow after a few heavy moments of you not answering him, a pleased grin painting itself on his handsome features as you quietly agree and allow him to slide his hand down your arm and gently tug you forward.

Alcohol-laden murmurs and hushed whispers advance themselves down the chilled hallway and into the open and overpopulated area, but neither one of you seem to care as the two of you slowly become well acquainted with the feeling of each other's hands as you descend away. And as Kirk flicks on a light switch and makes his way over to the mini fridge attached to the back wall of the room and silently beckons you over, the clock hits one.

⭒

You let out a faint sigh of relief as you feel Kirk press a towel filled with crushed up ice against the slightly swollen and puffy skin of your shoulder, the strap of your bra sliding down as you lean back into the cold compress and his stable hold. The musician sitting almost flushed against your back, watches with rapt attention as the white lace dances itself down your goosebump ridden extremity and stops to rest in the curved divot of your inner elbow.

"Thank you for taking care of me and making sure I was alright. I probably would have just ended up trying to ignore the pain and getting as much as I could get done within the last two hours of my shift." You allow a small smile to grace your face as you hear him grunt out a sound of displeasure at your words, a shiver running through your upper half as a droplet of the melting ice runs its way down the side of your back. An audible gasp tears through you as you feel the sensation of Kirk's calloused fingertip swipe it away, before continuously making its way down to the base of your spine.

"You're still so tense," Kirk murmurs, his free hand pressing its thumb and index fingers into the dimples adorning the skin of your bottom back. He pauses and halts his movements as a saddened thought invades its way into his mind. "You aren't uncomfortable with me, are you?"

You immediately shake your head no, an unsettling twinge basing itself in your gut as your nonverbal attempt of reassurance doesn't get a response or reaction back from him. As carefully as you can without creating any more physical discomfort for yourself, you twist around to face him. Kirk's hands raise to stop you from moving once he sets the towel off to the side, but you gently brush his hands down to rest in his lap.

"You don't make me uncomfortable," You try to comfort him, the small smile on your face sliding off as you take in the wary and cautious look on his. You anxiously bring your hands together on your leg and wring them together, before muttering out your next words. "You make me nervous." Kirk's facial expression softens as he watches you avert your eyes and look elsewhere, unable to stop himself from reaching out to set his hands on top of yours.

"Talk to me, baby. I can't help you out if you won't let me know what's going on or bothering you." You nod uneasily, untensing your hands so he can entangle his fingers in yours and place them on the small space in between you.

"You don't make me uncomfortable, Kirk. You make me nervous. Every time you reach out to me and ask if I need help, I get all nervous as hell and make a damn fool out of myself. I don't think I've dropped so many amp boxes in my entire life, compared to the handful I have here with you guy in this past year," You playfully try to tug your hands away from his, the flush reappearing on your cheeks as his kisses the back of one of yours in a silent apology. "You haven't done anything wrong. The complete opposite, actually."

Your eyes snap back to his as he entirely lets go of your hands and carefully rearranges your legs to wrap them around him, your jean clad calves now pressed firmly against the back of his middle and the leg of the cushioned furniture, as he tugs you toward him. You rest your hands on his chest and lightly clutch onto the worn-out fabric as his hands find purchase on your waist.

"And what if I felt the same way about you?" He asks, his eyes filling with mirth as he watches yours widen in surprise, his glancing down to your now gaping lips as you part them in shock. "What if I told you that I've broken more guitar string that I should have been allowed to get away with, because I was too busy looking at you? Watching you run around and help everybody, exhausting yourself every single day on this tour and wanting to reach out and help you unwind? What if I told you that I set up this entire New Years after party, so that I could finally find enough courage to come over and tell you about how I felt myself?"

You let out a disbelieving huff of laughter, the shaking of your head causing your hair to cling to the sides of your face. "There's no way."

"Oh yeah, because the boys would never be alright with me inviting the roadies, or anyone else they happen to find attractive enough along to hang back with them and drink some alcohol after a concert." You stop laughing at that, your hands unclenching the fabric of his shirt and instead reaching up to rest against his shoulders, as he looks down at you with conviction.

"I've been gone for you for the past few months, and the only reason why I haven't had enough guts to say anything sooner is because you're so kind with everyone, and I wasn't able to tell if it was any different with me." His slightly shaking hands come up to grasp onto your chin once again, this time tugging you forward to rest your forehead against his.

"You are the most beautiful, hardworking, kind and patient woman I've ever met, and you knock me straight on my ass with just a single look, every single time and with no effort." You blink back tears and send him a tremor of a nervous smile, your heart beating insurmountably fast in your chest.

"And you are the most handsome, hardworking, down to earth, kickass lead guitarist I have ever had the honor of working with." Kirk lets out a shuttered bout of laughter as you lightly brush your lips against his, his grip on your chin losing strength and wavering as you whisper against him.

"Unwind me, then."

⭒

A giggle filters itself out from in between your kiss swollen lips as your legs are raised and placed onto Kirk's lap, you semi helpfully lifting your lower half from underneath you as he tugs down on the seemingly skintight fabric.

"Why in the absolute fucking world are your pants so tight for?" He huffs out, faux annoyance painted on his features before his expression smooths out and turns into an affectionate smile, the sound of your joy causing his heart to feel like it's beating out of his chest. The man in front of you lets out a cheer once he's able to tug them down and off from around your ankles, and your laughter settles into a gasp as his lips begin to trail up your bare legs.

Stubble roughly etches its own temporary indentation into your skin as he sucks and bites marks into your trembling limbs, and you can feel his grin widen against you the closer he gets to your clothed and wet sex. Heat pillows in your groin and a whine builds up in your throat as he stops to create another hickey on your inner thigh, this time only a few inches away from where you truly wanted him to be, his hands holding your stomach down in place as you squirm impatiently.

"Please, I need you." Kirk's eyes close in euphoria at the unsteady tone in your voice, his head raising and mouth removing itself from your purpling skin to dart up towards your pussy, his tongue peeking out to tease you through the cotton. Groaning as your slick pearls out through the fabric and envelops his tastebuds, Kirk lolls his appendage out to run it along your clothed folds, his spit darkening the fabric and causing it to cling to your swollen and pulsating folds.

"Fuck, if I could take a picture of you, I would." He whispers out, his eyes transfixed on the way you push against his hold in desperation, before he mercifully pulls your underwear down and immediately laps at your soaked clit. The cry that you weep lashes itself around the room and bleeds its way underneath the paper-thin door, and you buck against his dripping mouth as one of his hands reach down to bundle up the undergarment and shove it into his back pocket for safe keeping.

Kirk twists his tongue inside of your folds in a figure 8, causing your eyes to roll back in your head and your ankles to cross themselves behind his head, the action silently pleading for him not to pull back or tease. You let out a damn near scream once a single digit is thrusted its way inside of you and easily finds your spongelike spot, your eyes stinging from the dual sensation, it almost feeling like overstimulation even though you haven't orgasmed yet.

Your hand releases itself from around the pillow he carefully placed behind you to protect your injured shoulder, it easily finding purchase in his curly and wild locks as his tongue enters your entrance alongside his finger, his nose nudging against your clit and giving you the perfect amount of friction. Kirk harshly moans out against you as you tangle your fingers in his mane and yank, a second finger sliding inside of you and roughly nudging against your g-spot with relentless revenge. The combination of his tongue and two fingers inside of you and his moans reverberating over your sensitive sex brings you to your first climax, your legs clamping their way around his head and forcing him to stay in place as his mouth and hand continue to pleasure you without stopping.

You sob out his name and writhe in place as he continues to go down on you, only slowing down and licking you clean once he looks up to see large tear stains matting themselves on your cheeks.

"Want you." You brokenly whisper, your legs slowly unwinding from around him and allowing him to lean back. A fresh wave of slick pulses out of you as you take in his drunken expression, your cum covering his chin and jaw and nearly dripping down his neck. You carefully sit up before tugging his shirt over his head and bringing him up to your level, your tongue darting out to taste yourself on his sweat covered skin. Kirk pants out against you before lightly wrapping a hand around your throat to tug you into an opened mouth and messy kiss. You moan into him as the taste of your musk finds its way to you as he licks and teases you, and he grunts as your hand slides down to his covered bulge, your fingers pulsing around his generous length in a teasing manner.

"Baby, please don't." He pleads, squeezing his eyes shut as his balls tighten and raise, heat rushing to his groin and causing his dick to jerk in your grip. You lick your lips in hunger as you feel him pulsate against you, before slightly raising your hand and beginning to unbutton his jeans.

"You don't have to." He tries to assure you, although his hips buck upward to help you yank his jeans and briefs down all at once. "Want to feel you inside of me." You murmur out against his lips, drinking in his whimpers as you reach down to gather some of your wetness to use it as a lubricant to slide your hand down his red and angry shaft.

"Yeah? You can have whatever you'd like, baby. Use me." He moans as you gently push him back to lie down on the couch beneath the two of you, his hands coming up to steady you as you shuffle on top of him and get into a comfortable squatting position.

You gasp loudly as you feel the tip of his dick nudge and twitch against your still oversensitive clit as you ready yourself, and you both let out resounding and punched out sighs of relief as you slowly lower yourself onto his accommodating and girthy length.

"Happy New Years, baby." Kirk shakily jokes from beneath you, before gripping onto your hips to guide you up and down his weeping cock, your soaked and clenching walls welcoming him in every single time.

Happy New Years, indeed.