Hello everyone! I figured that now I'm writing and being more active on my blog, I'd give a formal introduction <3
My name is Rea or Ryder (Rea pronounced Rye-Uh). I am an '05 babe and a Gemini.
I write fanfics and poetry and will be sharing others (Artists support Artists!)
Who I write: OG lineup of Guns N Roses, All Metallica members (yes, including Dave), and Motley Crue. I may write for TV shows/movies in the future.
What I write: I will mainly be writing fluff and angst, I can try smut if requested, but it is not my normal. Some pieces may be suggestive but that's about it and it will always be in the warnings. I currently only do "x reader". It can be romantic, platonic, or even family.
All my works will be under the rosywrites tag so you can find them easy! (Or you can use my masterlist!)
Requests are currently open! Don't be afraid to ask, if I'm uncomfortable with something, I will say so.
This is my second/new account! I was originally @r0syr3a, but I kind of abandoned that and wanted to start a new one!
You can either call me Rosy or Jewel, whichever you prefer :) I was born in 2005 so I am a grown up so please no minors (sorry, but adults shouldn't be allowing children into their spaces)
I'm here to share my own and other people's works, talk about my special interests, and do all that fun stuff! The tags I used represent my interests and what you should see on my page!
It was not Baela telling Corlys that people only saw the wondrous items and coins and wealth he collected from all over the world from his nine voyages, making House Velaryon the richest house in Westeros; even more than the ruling family; yet only few know that it was all for Rhaenys.
It was not Baela and Rhaenyra grieving and sharing stories about Rhaenys.
It was not Meleys'; one of the most majestic and powerful dragons to exist lowered to nothing but her rotting head paraded across the streets.
It was not Daemon going all sexy with a girl conjured in his hallucinations, until he realizes it was his mother. His mother who he never remembered at all.
It was not Daemon's slow unraveling as the riverlords confront him and his deeds including the child murder, and him slowly realizing what the fuck he is doing.
Neither it was Alicent's face after the council rejects her as regent, and it dawns on her how exactly it is and it was for Rhaenyra all her life and during this war, as she realizes the depth of Aemond, her son's depraved plan all along.
No.
No it was after Alicent walking away after staying by Aegon's side for gods knows how long and never having the chance to hear her son calling out for his ''Mummy''.
Pride season is approaching and if I hear ANYONE speak poorly of bisexual women with boyfriends/husbands I’ll pop all your tires okay thx for listeninggg <3
Clearly, he was a decent guy, but it got you wondering why he ended up there, all by himself in a town he didn't know squat about. Was he on the run from something? What brought him here in the first place? You were itching to find out.
Beyond mere curiosity, a peculiar fascination started to take root.
✦ warnings and tags: jason newsted x reader, age gap (23/38), no use of y/n, slow burn, grumpy/sunshine dynamics maybe?, drinking, reader has a backstory and it's kinda tragic, a bit of angst
The end of winter came with the soft, cheerful chirping of the birds returning from migration, the air crisp as the morning sun rose. Warm light seeped through the white curtains, being caught by the small crystal prism hanging from the window. The room felt like a dream as you opened your eyes, sunlight and small rainbows casting warm glows in the walls, the wardrobe, the bed, your legs.
It was such a beautiful sight to wake up to, and you couldn’t help but linger in bed just a bit longer, curling up under the covers. The morning air hinted at a warm day ahead, but the tip of your nose felt cold, and you wished you could sleep for just a few more minutes.
In theory, you could. It was a Saturday, and weekends were meant for resting, but after working hard all week, you couldn’t bear the thought of wasting your precious free time snoozing — especially with such a gorgeous day practically calling your name, begging you to get out there and soak it all in.
You could totally head down to Main Street, hit up the only bookshop in town, and grab some groceries on the way back. Then, you'd probably ring up your best friend Sophie, and the two of you would end up spending the whole afternoon in her room, chatting about everything and nothing, with you venting about having to see your ex, Ethan, at your night gig and how he just couldn't stop staring at you all night long.
Life was calm that way. Predictable, even. It’s not like you could expect more than that, living in a small town such as yours, where nothing much ever really happened, and nothing ever seemed to change. But, even as you stirred awake, you could feel in your chest a restlessness that you tried to ignore.
The longing for more than this.
Life hadn't been an easy journey for you the past couple of years. When you were younger, the idea of living in the small town where you grew up felt like a cozy certainty you'd had since you were a kid. Being an only child, you were close to your parents. The thought of leaving them behind to start a new life elsewhere just didn't sit right with you. But then, everything changed about a week after your 21st birthday, when you and your parents got into a car crash. While you managed to walk away with just a few scars, they didn't make it.
And just like that, you were on your own. All those dreams you had, all those plans for the future, just seemed to lose their meaning overnight. You didn’t have any close kin, but managed to get back on your feet thanks to your family’s friends. That's the thing about small towns, right? People looked out for each other. But, as much as you adored the place, being there was also too painful. You knew you needed more than this, living in a house that used to be bursting with love and laughter but now was only home to you and your solitude.
You let out a sigh, blinking as you gazed at the sun's reflection on the roof. Wallowing in the past wasn't gonna do you any good; if you wanted to make the most of the day, you'd better haul yourself out of bed soon. With a grunt, you sat up, yawning and stretching your arms. A quick peek at the clock told you it was still early — eight in the morning.
A sudden racket down on the street made you furrow your brow, piquing your curiosity. You hopped out of bed, drawing back the curtains, and let out a little gasp when you spotted the moving truck parked at the neighboring house. That place had been up for sale forever, until one day it wasn't. Nobody in the neighborhood had a clue who'd snagged it, so you just figured it must have been someone from out of town. But you sure didn't expect them to move in this fast, whoever they were. You watched as a bunch of guys hopped out of the truck and started hauling boxes and furniture, an idea starting to brew in your head.
You had no clue who your new neighbors were, but you were itching to find out. The thought of meeting some fresh faces was downright thrilling, a break from the same old routine day in and day out. With a spring in your step, you headed to the bathroom, suddenly excited and humming a tune as you brainstormed the best way to make an introduction. Baking up a batch of brownies seemed like a solid plan; you were a whiz in the kitchen, and they were a breeze to whip up. Plus, it'd be the perfect excuse to get to know the new folks in the neighborhood.
You got right to it after your shower; you loved cooking, so those brownies were whipped up in a flash. The kitchen was soon filled with the heavenly aroma of chocolate baking, and you seized the chance to brew some fresh coffee too. Once everything was ready, you arranged the brownies all nice and cute in a porcelain tray and decided to throw in some coffee in a thermal bottle for good measure.
The neighbor's door was wide open, with furniture and boxes scattered everywhere in the living room and on the porch. You didn't wanna barge in uninvited, so you rang the bell instead. After a few minutes of waiting, your new neighbor finally showed up. He seemed older than you, with short, curly brown hair and sharp blue eyes that sized you up quickly. You couldn't help but wonder if he had a wife or maybe some little ones you'd end up meeting.
"Hey," he greeted, with a kind of shy smile playing on his lips. "Need a hand?"
"Hi," you replied, feeling a bit bashful all of a sudden. You adjusted the tray of brownies and the coffee bottle in your hands, and he quickly stepped in, taking the tray from you. "You're the new guy, right? I'm your next-door neighbor, brought over some welcome brownies for you and the family."
He chuckled softly. "Thanks. But no family here, just me."
"Oh, my bad. I kinda assumed..." You trailed off, your curiosity getting the better of you, which earned you a soft laugh from him.
"Yeah, long story. I'm Jason, by the way. Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, Jason," you grinned, then gave him your name. "I'd offer a handshake, but... yeah." You trailed off, feeling a bit embarrassed as you glanced at the tray Jason was holding. He chuckled.
"It's all good. And hey, thanks for these," he said, gesturing to the tray of brownies. Then, he hesitated for a second before asking, "Wanna... join me for breakfast? The place is a bit of a disaster right now, but we could chill on the porch if you're up for it."
"Oh, sure!" you agreed with a grin. Meeting new folks was a rarity in your usual routine, so this was kind of a thrill. Plus, Jason seemed like a solid guy, and you were genuinely curious about his story and why he'd end up in your sleepy little town all on his own.
You and Jason kicked back on the porch steps; he managed to find a couple of mugs amidst the mess of moving boxes while you poured the fresh coffee, the scent lingering in the air as the sun beamed down, casting dancing shadows through the leaves of the tree out front.
Jason was quiet, almost like he was feeling a bit shy himself, which got you thinking about how to break the ice. Your curiosity sparked up again as you noticed some pretty pro-looking gear on the moving truck: amps and what seemed like a guitar case.
"You play guitar?" you asked, shooting him a curious look. He smiled, holding up a hand to signal for a moment as he finished chowing down on his brownie.
"Bass, actually," he replied, his eyes lighting up a bit. "Was in a band, but I bounced. Figured I'd focus on some other stuff for a while."
"Ah, gotcha. So, did Oak Ridge call your name for some musical inspiration?" you quipped, and he chuckled.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’m from Battle Creek," he replied, and you nodded. You'd never actually been to the city, but you knew it was somewhere in Michigan, about an hour's drive from your neck of the woods. "Been out in California for a few years now. Figured it might be nice to come back home, but I didn't want to go back to my old stomping grounds, so... after some searching, I wound up here. It's a pretty little town," he said, his voice softening, and you couldn't help but smile. "Thought maybe it'd give me a little peace of mind."
"Yeah, it's pretty damn peaceful around here, that's for sure. Can get a bit too quiet sometimes, but hey, can't complain," you remarked, and he let out a chuckle. "If you ever need a hand with anything, I'm just a stone's throw away."
"Thanks," he grinned. "So, you're a local then?"
"Born and raised," you replied, your tone tinged with a touch more melancholy than you intended.
“Don’t you like it here?” he asked, his voice gentle. You shook your head, offering a small smile.
"It's not that. It's just... My folks passed away not too long ago, so... It's kinda tough being here without 'em," you admitted softly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as you noticed the sympathy in Jason's eyes. "Sorry, didn't mean to dump all that on you."
"You're not. I'm really sorry for your loss," he murmured, reaching out to take your hand in his. His touch was warm, his rough palm against your softer skin offering an unexpected source of comfort. You blushed, casting your gaze downward.
"Thanks," you whispered, and he cleared his throat lightly before releasing your hand. You almost missed the sensation of his touch, a lingering warmth ghosting over your skin as you lifted your gaze to meet his. "I should probably let you get back to your stuff... Need a hand with anything?"
"Don't sweat it, I've got some guys on the job," he grinned. "Plus, you shouldn't spend your weekend playing servant for an old man like me. You've already treated me to some free breakfast, after all."
"Yeah, you're welcome," you chuckled softly, and he joined in with a laugh of his own. As you stood up, he followed suit. "Catch you later, Mr...?"
"Newsted," he replied, "But you can just call me Jason."
"Got it. See you around, Jason," you grinned.
"See you."
The rest of your day unfolded just as you'd mapped it out; a stroll down Main Street, a pit stop at Mrs. Smith's shop for a cup of coffee, and a quick swing by the bookshop before snagging some essentials at the grocery store. Yet, amidst the routine, your mind kept circling back to Jason. You figured a simple introduction would have satisfied your curiosity, but there was an undeniable pull to learn more about him, to unravel the sadness that lingered in his voice when he’d touched on his past.
It was a weird sensation, especially when you caught yourself replaying the way he'd gently held your hand, offering a comfort that hit you deeper than you expected. Clearly, he was a decent guy, but it got you wondering why he ended up there, all by himself in a town he didn't know squat about. Was he on the run from something? What brought him here in the first place? You were itching to find out.
Beyond mere curiosity, a peculiar fascination started to take root.
Your friend Sophie didn't miss the fact that you were zoning out. As you both sprawled out on her bedroom rug, surrounded by a heap of empty beer bottles in her tiny trash can and MTV music videos blaring from her shelf-mounted TV, your thoughts kept drifting back to Jason. The slight buzz from the booze made it even tougher to concentrate on anything else.
"You're not lost in Ethan-land again, are you?" Sophie quipped, and you tore your gaze away from the ceiling fan to meet her eyes. A grin tugged at your lips as you took in the single blue streak in her short, dark hair — a rebellious touch of authenticity her folks had begrudgingly allowed while she was still living under their roof. "Don't tell me he's been lurking around your workplace again. I swear, if he is, I'll kick his fucking ass."
“It’s not that, but thanks anyway," you grinned. Sophie arched an eyebrow.
"Well, you're definitely lost in thought about something. I can tell by that look of yours."
"Did you hear? I got new neighbors moving in today," you mentioned. "Well, not neighbors, just one guy apparently."
"So, is this the mystery that's been occupying your brain?" Sophie teased, and you let out a grunt. "Is he hot?" she prodded, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.
You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips, but the thought lingered in your mind nonetheless. Sure, you'd noticed Jason's looks, but what really grabbed your attention was his demeanor — he seemed so easygoing, yet here he was, uprooting his life to move to a tiny town all by himself. And he had this... way about him. Comforting, you'd call it. Maybe it was all in your head, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he carried a weight of sadness and solitude, much like you did. You wondered if he harbored the same itch for something different — for something new that even you couldn't quite put your finger on.
As for his looks... Well, you couldn't deny he was easy on the eyes, with his gorgeous hair and those piercing blue eyes. His smile felt infectious and genuine, and you couldn’t forget about those hands of his — warm, big, and sturdy, like they could tackle anything.
"He's decent," you muttered, though truth be told, thinking about him for this long had left a bit of a buzz coursing through your body. It hit you then: you wanted to dig deeper, to unravel more about him. It was a weird sensation, really. In a small town like this, meeting new faces wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence. Most folks you knew had been around forever.
Encountering someone entirely fresh was a rarity — and you could tell you were already getting sucked into the whirlwind of it.
☆
It was early evening when the moving crew finally wrapped up. They had unloaded all of Jason’s stuff from the trucks, sorted it out by rooms, and even put together some of the more complicated furniture. Moving had always been a stress-fest, but this time it had been something else. Jason had never realized he had so much junk piled up until now.
He snagged the coffee bottle you'd left out earlier, pouring himself a bit of the drink and grumbling when he realized it was stone cold. Figures — it had been brewed for breakfast, hours before. It dawned on him that he hadn't eaten a thing all day, and suddenly his crankiness made a whole lot more sense. Sure, he could try warming the coffee up, but the thought of any extra effort felt like it would drain the last ounce of patience he had left. With a sigh, he gulped down the cold coffee, the memory of you lingering with the faint bitter aftertaste.
You were a curious little thing, unexpected but a welcome surprise in his morning routine. Jason found himself thinking about you more than he’d expected, a girl with kindness in her heart yet a sadness mirroring his own in her eyes. Getting to know you, even just a little, made him feel selfish. What could he possibly understand about your sorrow, someone who had endured so much loss? He remembered being your age, brimming with life, hopes, and dreams. Losing both parents at such a young age — he couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been. Even if he was trying to escape his own troubles, they paled in comparison to yours.
Yeah, maybe he had been on the run for a while. Ever since he'd reached his breaking point and found the courage to say enough's enough, to walk away from Metallica after years of disrespect and heartache. But why did it feel like he'd lost it all, when he was the one who made the call to bail? Jason couldn’t deny that the sadness he’d been feeling, along with the relentless questions, accusations, and those damn interview requests were pushing him to the brink of insanity.
He decided he’d reached his breaking point, had his fill of it all. He wanted to disappear somewhere folks hadn't even heard of James fucking Hetfield and Lars fucking Ulrich, where nobody would hassle him for ditching Metallica, wouldn't grill him about every move he wanted to make. So he looked for somewhere where he could just quit — maybe buy some land, tend to some critters, and jam out in peace. Oak Ridge seemed as good a spot as any, and before he knew it, he found himself snagging a house in the small town, at least until he figured out his next move. With more cash than he knew what to do with, being out of the spotlight for a bit wasn't gonna do him any harm. If anything, he figured it might just do the opposite.
Jason's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the jingle of keys at his front door. He frowned, setting his mug in the sink and tiptoeing to the room. His eyebrow shot up when he heard a soft curse, instantly recognizing the voice as yours. With a few brisk steps, he swung the door open, finding you on the other side. You let out a yelp, cheeks flushed, and he realized with an amused smile you were obviously a bit drunk. Sure, he'd been more than tipsy at your age, but you didn't strike him as the type to get so plastered you'd mistake your neighbor's house for your own.
"Oh, Mr. Newsted! I-I'm really sorry," you stammered, your face now definitely turning beet red. Jason couldn't help but bite his lower lip, trying to hold back his laughter. You were clearly embarrassed — it was funny, but also endearing.
“You’re here for dinner?” he joked, and you blinked, looking surprised. He chuckled softly. "Just kidding. Are you okay?"
"I'm... I'm fine," you mumbled. "I'm really, really sorry. I forgot my porch light was off, and I'm so used to it being on that when I saw your porch lit up, I... I mean, it's always been off until today, so..."
"It's alright. You want some water?" he offered. Despite knowing you'd sober up soon enough, he couldn't help but be concerned. Hopefully all you'd have to deal with the next day was a hangover and some embarrassment.
"I'm okay," you insisted, still a bit flushed. "But thanks. I should probably head home now."
"Make sure you eat something, drink some water, and maybe take a cold shower before hitting the hay, okay?" he advised. "It might ease the hangover tomorrow."
"Thanks," she giggled, and he couldn't help but smile back. "Goodnight, Mr. Newst... Jason."
"Night," he chuckled softly. He watched you as you made your way to your house, opening the door. He let out a small, relieved sigh when he saw you step inside, flicking on the lights and locking the door behind you. It was good to know you were safe.
And just like that, Jason felt his bad mood melt away. Sure, he was still tired, and he didn't think he could ever shake off the grumpiness on an empty stomach, but having you around was definitely a pleasant surprise.
Maybe moving to this little town was gonna turn out to be a pretty nice experience after all.
✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
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 ♡)
A/n: I would like to apologize in advance to any and all bilingual folks reading this, I speak other languages but not well enough to call myself bilingual I'd say, I know this isn't a very accurate depiction of someone being bilingual but I thought it was cute. Also! I am learning Danish so I apologize if you speak Danish and mine isn't the best :'3
Warnings: None, just fluff :3
You’d met Lars at a record store not long ago and quickly fell in love with the little Danish princess. You hadn’t moved in yet but staying the night was a pretty regular thing, usually you’d wake up before him and make breakfast for when he woke up.
This was the longest you’ve spent with him, though. You were on day three of what was to be a week with him. Metallica was going on tour soon and you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before he left.
Normally this was when you would get out of bed and start making breakfast only you didn’t want to. It was your day off and you wanted to just lay in bed with your boyfriend a little longer. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. Plump lips parted slightly with soft breaths leaving him. His nose scrunching every now and then from whatever dream he was having.
You brushed his perfect hair out of his face and kissed his nose, accidentally waking him. “Hvem er du?” He grumbled. You stared at him blankly.
“What?”
“Oh, godmorgen.” He mumbled and rolled over. Still, you stared at him.
“Is that- Are you speaking... Danish..?” He didn’t say anything for several moments and you’d thought he’d fallen back asleep so you peeked over his shoulder. He looked back at you with a soft smile.
“I’m tired.” He mumbled, rolling back to face you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled himself closer. “You can’t go waking me up and expect me to speak the right language.” You giggled at him and held him close to you, his head on your chest as you played with his hair.
“You’re cute when you’re tired.” You kissed his forehead and heard his breathing steady out again as he fell back asleep.
I sighed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks as I sensed a kind of understanding forming between the three of us, albeit slowly; Dave and James were like two sides of the same coin, always had been, brothers of fire and anger even before all their pain had driven them apart. Was it such a shocker that they'd both end up falling for the same woman? Was it such a surprise that I'd end up loving them both?
Maybe we always knew it would eventually lead to this.
✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, threesome, mxfxm sex, dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, unprotected sex, oral sex, drug issues mentioned, alcoholism, drinking
✦ a/n: Hey, everyone! So, this chapter turned out a bit longer too, but I couldn't wrap up the fic without throwing in this smut scene at least once. Honestly, it's one of my favorites in the whole story! Oh, and in case you haven't noticed - yeah, Leanne's husband is Joe Sinclair. He popped up in some earlier chapters as Lea's friend who had that cool beach house where they celebrated Cliff's birthday and where James first kissed Nore at Lea's birthday party. Next part's gonna be the finale, and I swear we're finally getting a happy ending after all the drama lol Thanks for sticking around and reading, feedback is appreciated! ❤
April 6, 1992
Dave and I came back from our weekend getaway even more head over heels for each other, if that was even possible. Now that our feelings were out in the open, any walls between us just crumbled away, leaving us with one undeniable truth: I was crazy about him, and he felt the same way about me. Life had never felt so simple.
Life had also never felt so damn complicated; come Monday, things took an unexpected turn when Lars unexpectedly dropped by. He showed up at my place bright and early, his usual chill vibe replaced with a hint of worry that had me wondering what was up.
"Hey, Lars. Come on in, I was just munching on some breakfast," I gestured for him to enter, stepping aside. He gave a somewhat tense smile and took a seat at the kitchen table, setting his backpack down. "Hungry? I've got pancakes, orange juice, some fresh sliced watermelon..."
"Just water, thanks. I grabbed a bite earlier," he replied, flashing a quick smile when he noticed my concern.
"If you're all fueled up, what's with the serious face?" I inquired. "Something happened?"
"Actually..." he trailed off. I plopped down at the table, sliding a glass of water his way and pouring myself some juice, giving him a curious glance. "You catch the news today?"
"News?" I furrowed my brow, and Lars let out a sigh, seeming resigned. He unzipped his backpack, pulling out a magazine and passing it over to me. I blinked at him, puzzled, before focusing on the publication.
What I saw left me gaping in disbelief.
The magazine was one of those gossip rags, the kind I never bought because I had never been interested in such stuff. If I didn't expect Lars to read this kind of thing, I certainly didn't expect to see myself on the cover. The photo showed a painfully familiar scene; Dave and I getting off at the airport together the night before, him with an arm around my waist, pulling me close as he whispered something in my ear and I smiled. We both looked happy; happy and at peace, like I hadn't felt in a long time.
The photo didn't take up the whole cover; there was some other Hollywood gossip splashed across it that I barely paid attention to as I zeroed in on the caption beneath my picture with Dave.
SHE’S GOT A TYPE? Get the lowdown on Nore Burton and her new metalhead boyfriend, snapped in LA yesterday, on page 30.
I hurriedly flipped through the magazine, landing on the page mentioned and scanning through it, feeling my face flush hotter with every word.
Lately, there's been a buzz among Hollywood bigwigs and celebs about a fresh face on the scene: Eleanore Burton (27), aka Nore Burton. The actress, with a theater background and gearing up for her small-screen debut, turned heads by snagging the lead in Pacific Coast Television's (PCT) latest romance series, sharing the screen with some seasoned industry pros.
What's not widely known is that the actress is actually cousins with late Metallica bassist, Cliff Burton. And then there's the rollercoaster romance between her and the band's frontman and guitarist, James Hetfield (28). They've been on and off since way before they hit the big time, dabbling with other flings whenever they hit a rough patch.
But what really caught our eye was spotting the actress getting cozy with a new flame: Dave Mustaine (30), infamous for his sharp tongue and ongoing feud with Metallica after getting kicked out of the band in '83. A trusted source confided that they were actually together for a few months earlier that same year, but things fizzled out shortly after Metallica dropped their debut album, Kill 'em All.
It's anyone's guess how James Hetfield feels about his sweetheart's new fling. How's he gonna take the news that she's back in touch with an old flame he's not too keen on? We tried reaching out to Hetfield via Metallica's reps, but no word back yet as of press time.
"They went after him?" I shouted, eyebrows raised, looking at Lars in shock. "Lars, I had no clue about this pic! I..." I shook my head, too stunned to finish.
"Yeah, welcome to the club, babe," Lars quipped, snatching the magazine from me. "Just wait till you need bodyguards for your Bloomingdale's run. Fame's got its downsides, no doubt." He glanced up, frowning. "When were you planning to spill the beans about getting back with Mustaine?"
"I was going to, I swear," I said, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks. Lars just huffed, giving me an incredulous look. I couldn't blame him for being peeved; maybe I should've looped them in sooner. But I didn’t expect my personal life would become front-page news like that. "Seriously, Lars. Dave and I just reconnected last month, but everything happened so fast..."
"And what about James? Did he get the memo, or did he find out through the grapevine?"
"He knows Dave and I crossed paths again. But..." I paused, feeling a lump form in my throat, my voice trailing off as memories of James' silent treatment flooded back. "He's been avoiding me for weeks. I've called, but no answer. It's like I'm invisible to him," I finished in a mumble, blinking back a lone tear rolling down my cheek.
Lars gazed at me for a beat, then let out a sigh, opening his arms for a hug. I blinked back tears, feeling them well up despite my efforts, and eased myself into his embrace.
"You know you could've spilled this to us, me and Kirk," he said softly. "You could've mentioned James was giving you the silent treatment again. We would've had your back."
"I didn't want to be a burden," I murmured, and he scoffed.
"You're not a burden. We're family; we look out for each other, got it?"
"Thanks," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion, as I stepped back. I straightened up, brushing my hair back and sniffing, wiping away the tears that had slipped down my cheeks. "I... I'll give him a call. And if he doesn't pick up, I'll swing by his place after today's shoot. We gotta talk things out; it ain't cool for him to shut himself off like this."
"You want me to come along?" Lars offered, rising from his seat, and I shook my head no. I'd rather handle this on my own. "Okay; I got some stuff to sort out myself. We're hitting the road soon for a tour, won't be back till August for Lea's wedding. If James pops up, I'll call you, alright? And let him know you're looking to chat."
"Sure thing, Lars," I smiled softly as he clasped my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Appreciate it."
As expected, I couldn't get hold of James; every call went straight to voicemail. I got swept back into my daily grind, a hectic day of non-stop shooting. Word about me and Dave must've spread like wildfire; some colleagues offered sympathetic words, but I also caught plenty of curious looks and hushed chatter whenever I was on set during the day.
I left the studio totally beat; all I craved was getting home, hitting the shower, and crashing out. But, sticking to my morning promise, I made my way to James' place. I stood at the door, debating whether to ring the bell. After a moment, I went for it, but got no response. I fidgeted nervously, wondering if I'd picked a lousy time to drop by; I wasn't even sure he'd be home. I hit the bell again and waited. Just when I was about to bail, James finally swung open the door.
The moment I laid eyes on him, I could tell he wasn't okay; his disheveled hair, creased forehead, and bloodshot eyes gave away recent drinking. He just stood there, staring at me, before stepping aside silently to let me in. I winced at the sight of his living room, a mess that brought back memories of our wild party days back when we were younger; empty beer bottles littered the floor, clothes tossed haphazardly on the couch, and a stack of pizza boxes sitting on the corner table.
"You showed up," James muttered hoarsely, and I turned to him. He gazed at me, a mix of pain and bitterness flashing in his blue eyes, sending a wave of discomfort through me. "Finally remembered I'm alive? Or did your boyfriend not want you around today?"
"James..." I started, my tone a mix of caution and desperation. I wasn't looking for a fight. All I wanted was to talk things out with him. He snorted before heading to the kitchen, and I trailed after him. I watched with worry as he opened the fridge, reaching for a beer. "I... I don't think booze is the answer right now."
"Thanks for the tip, but I'll pass," he smirked, sarcastically. "What brings you here, Nore? Suddenly worried about my feelings now that the whole world knows you're with someone else?"
"James, that's not fair," I said, my voice choking up. "I've been trying to reach out to you for weeks. You've been ignoring my calls, you didn't answer any of my voicemails, and now I'm the one who doesn't care?"
He shot me an annoyed look but stayed silent. I sighed, blinking away the forming tears as I looked away from him, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat. Maybe coming after him wasn't such a great idea after all.
"Lars mentioned you're hitting the road soon. How are you planning to handle that if you're in this state?" I questioned weakly, and he just rolled his eyes.
"And what's it to you?"
"I do care about you, James. Even if you can't see it," I answered, my voice dropping, feeling the weight of his anger. Whenever James got like this, I felt lost, like a ship tossed at sea, struggling to find solid ground but always drifting. It was like he was slipping further away, and I couldn't reel him back in. I couldn't handle it — his distance or the hurt it caused.
"Why'd you go back to him, Nore?" he questioned suddenly, his voice now filled with anguish. "Wasn't I good enough for you?"
"James, please," I implored, taking a step forward, but he shook his head, backing away. "Come on. You know I care about you..."
"Don't say that while I have to watch you happy with him," James snapped. "Really, Nore? Fucking Mustaine? I can handle you seeing other people when we're not good, but did it have to be him ? The one person I know I can't measure up to?"
"James," I begged, my voice catching. "I didn't plan for this. But I can't ignore how I feel. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us. But you don't have to push me away. Please, let me help..."
" Stop it ," he interrupted, his voice sharp and icy. I flinched, holding back tears, feeling a pang of sadness as I watched James' expression turn hostile. "I told you not to come crying to me, didn't I? I don't want to fucking see you, I don't want to hear about your life. I don't know why you still think I give a shit," he snarled, his words laced with venomous anger.
I gaped at him, stunned, my heart pounding painfully in my chest as I watched the realization of what he'd just said sinking in, the hostility melting into regret in his blue eyes. He reached out, but it was too late; the damage was done, my heart shattered, and I knew I couldn't stand to be near James for another second right then, no matter how hard I tried.
As he came closer, I swatted his hand away, tears streaming down my face. I backed off quick, just needing to get away, to put as much space between my pain and James' rising temper as I could, even if that meant widening the gap between us even more.
I got home feeling totally crushed, tears still streaking down my cheeks as I flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh, and caught sight of the blinking light on the phone, telling me I had messages waiting. I grabbed the phone and held it up to my ear, tapping the button to listen to the voicemails. A faint smile crept onto my face as Dave's voice came through.
Hey, babe. How's it going? Just saw that article they threw out about us. Give me a call, alright?
I let out a sigh. Even though I was feeling pretty down, I knew chatting with Dave would lift my spirits, so I quickly dialed up his number.
"Hey."
"Hi, Dave," I said, trying to put on a smile even though my voice was still a bit wobbly.
"Hey, sweetheart. You alright?" Dave asked, sounding all worried. Of course he'd pick up on my mood instantly; nobody read me like Dave did.
"I..." I let out a sigh; I didn't wanna stress him out, but I also couldn't keep everything that went down with James from him. "No, I'm not," I confessed. "I... I went to see James, Dave. He's not in a good place... We had a huge fight, he said some nasty stuff, and I..."
"It's because of that stupid article, right?" he said, his voice tense. I agreed, and he let out a sigh. "Hey, wanna swing by my place? I don't want you to be alone if you're feeling this bummed out. I'll whip up some dinner for us."
"Wait, you actually know how to cook?" I asked, my genuine curiosity distracting me from my sadness for a moment, and he chuckled softly.
"I'm getting there. Can't survive on fast food forever, you know. But I can always order in if you're not convinced by my culinary skills," he said, and I giggled.
"No need. I'm game to try your cooking. I'll just change and head over there, then."
I showed up at Dave's home not long after, carrying a backpack slung over my shoulder packed with all the stuff I figured I'd need for the next day. When he swung the door open, I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest.
"Hey," he chuckled softly, running his fingers through my hair. I glanced up, standing on my toes to plant a kiss on his lips. He grinned, his hands cradling my face gently. "C'mon, let's head inside."
I smiled softly when I stepped into Dave's place and noticed the living room, dimly lit and cozy, lit up with just a small lamp while some soft tunes played in the background. Not the usual heavy metal songs I was used to enjoying with him, but instead, a nice, slow piano melody. The dining table was all set with red candles flickering, some spaghetti bolognese, and a bottle of red wine.
Dave snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on my shoulder, swaying along to the music. I couldn't help but let out a soft giggle. I turned around to wrap my arms around his neck; he slid his hands down to my waist, giving me a light kiss on the lips before resting his forehead against mine.
"A candlelit dinner and some music? You're pulling out all the stops this time, Mustaine," I remarked, and he grinned.
"Just wait 'til you see what I've got planned for after we go to bed."
"You didn't go all out with rose petals and stuff, did you?" I teased, and he chuckled, giving me a tight hug and a light kiss on the lips.
"I'd do anything to see you smile. You know that, right?" he asked, softly.
How could I feel anything but pure joy hearing that? Having Dave back in my life felt like a dream, one that just kept getting sweeter by the day. I could see it in his eyes he meant it, despite all the mess with James, despite all the baggage from my past. He loved me, plain and simple. What more could I ask for?
Instead of answering, I simply leaned in and planted another kiss on his lips.
August 15, 1992
The next few months flew by in a blur. Between my jam-packed schedule and all my commitments, things slowly started shifting. Dave and I made it official, letting everyone know we were back on, and sure, at first, it caused a bit of a stir with the gossip mags and our circle of friends. But soon enough, the novelty wore off, and we got our privacy back.
The moments I spent with him were just something else; every day, our bond got stronger, and I couldn't get enough of Dave - his smile, the feel of his skin on mine, the taste of his kiss, and how his eyes softened whenever they locked with mine.
Dave kept fighting to stay clear of falling back into addiction, even though some days were really tough on him. I did what I could to support him, even if I knew deep down that I couldn't fix everything. But Dave always made sure to let me know that just having me around made things a whole lot easier.
Having him around definitely helped ease my load too; getting back with Dave kind of lifted some of the heaviness I'd been carrying around for the past few years. Sure, I knew I'd always have to deal with the sadness that came with losing Cliff. But the pain of having lost Dave in the past bit by bit was slowly being replaced by love - real, deep love that filled up my chest almost entirely.
Almost entirely, except for the part that still hurt because of my messed-up relationship with James. We'd been in this complicated dance for a few years now, but lately, he'd been more distant than ever. I mean, I get it, being a big-time artist, time works a bit differently, right? It wasn’t unusual for us to go ages without seeing each other when the band was out on their never-ending tours, but usually, we'd at least keep some kind of contact going.
But lately, it felt like he was going out of his way to steer clear of me, and honestly, I wasn't really feeling the urge to patch things up after the nasty stuff he'd flung my way last time we talked. I'd still give Lars and Kirk quick calls to check in on them every now and then, but I made sure to steer clear of bringing up James, and they didn't mention him either.
I figured I'd bump into him sooner or later. I mean, with Leanne's wedding creeping up, it was bound to happen. Lea and Joe had settled on tying the knot down in New Orleans and had snagged a whole hotel to fit everyone in. I caught up with them the day before the big party, when they swung by to greet us at the airport and give us a ride to the hotel.
The moment I laid eyes on Lea, a huge smile spread across my face; she was just like I remembered her, with her dark locks and sparkly eyes, but I couldn't help but do a double-take at the little bump showing she was expecting. As for Lea, she didn't seem at all shocked to see Dave tagging along with me for the event. Despite the miles between us, Leanne and I always made sure to keep each other in the loop about what was going on in our lives.
"You’re pregnant? " I blurted out, all wide-eyed and grinning as she pulled me into a hug. She laughed.
"Yeah, I am! Joe and I were just as shocked, believe me. I'm at 19 weeks... Oh, sorry, that's like 4 months, right? I didn't spill the beans sooner 'cause I wanted to tell you face-to-face."
"Wow, Lea. That's amazing news, congrats!" I gushed, beaming at her, and she beamed right back.
Man, I was beyond thrilled for her. Even though Leanne and I hadn't been as close lately, I still saw her as one of my ride-or-die besties, and I knew she felt the same way. Losing Cliff had changed a lot of stuff, but it didn't touch the bond we had. Seeing her all glowing and living her best life, well, it warmed my heart more than words could say.
Dave and I tagged along with Leanne to the airport parking lot, and there was Joe, leaning against the car, waiting for us. His face lit up with a smile when he spotted us. While Leanne hadn't changed much, Joe was a whole new dude compared to the long-haired blondie I knew back in my San Francisco days. These days, he kept his hair super short, almost buzzed, and sported a full beard. But that friendly grin of his was still exactly the same.
"Hey, Nore, Dave! Been ages!" he said, giving us a hug before unlocking the car. "How've you been? Pumped for the party?"
"I'm counting down the minutes," I grinned, and Leanne let out a soft chuckle. "But you two must be over the moon, right? Tomorrow's your big day!"
"Oh, you have no idea," Leanne said, all hyped up. "We've been waiting for this forever, and now that it's finally happening, it's like pinch-me-I'm-dreaming territory."
We pulled up at the hotel before we knew it. Dave and I gave Leanne and Joe a big thanks for the lift, then headed inside to check-in and crash for a bit. I mean, the next day was gonna be huge. Finally, we made it to our room, and I let out a sigh of relief, humming a little as I started unpacking. Dave glanced over at me, a small smile playing on his lips.
"You're looking pretty happy," he observed, moving in closer and resting a hand on my waist. I let out a soft chuckle as he planted a kiss on my cheek, his lips brushing lightly against my skin before meeting mine. "I love seeing you like this."
"Isn't it crazy that Lea's gonna have a baby? That's awesome," I remarked, grinning. Dave chuckled softly, pulling me into a hug before his lips found mine once more. I let out a contented sigh as he gently gripped my hips, drawing me closer.
"You ever thought about having one?" he murmured, his voice low and a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaned in close to my ear. I pulled back a bit, feeling a blush creep up on my cheeks as I looked at him, surprised. "We could have a little one someday. You know, down the road. Or two. Or ten ."
"How'd we jump from two to ten?" I giggled, and he let out a big laugh.
"Just throwing it out there. If you want, I’d love to have a future with you."
Those words from Dave kept swirling around in my head all night, even after we'd settled into bed. Ever since Cliff had passed, I'd been steering clear of making any big plans for the future. Losing him had hit me hard, wrecking any dreams I used to have. For a while, I’d just let life happen, rolling with the punches as they came. I was so, so terrified of hoping for anything and ending up crushed and broken again. But with Dave by my side, everything felt different, like the world was painted in brighter colors. Was it okay to start thinking about a future where we wouldn't ever have to be distant again? Was it okay to start thinking about a future with him?
A future with him. Just the thought made my stomach tie up in knots, all tangled up with the fear that it could all go south one day. But deep down, I knew I craved it with every fiber of my being.
Maybe I wasn't exactly brimming with courage right then, but one thing I knew for sure: for as long as I lived, I never wanted to be apart from Dave again.
August 16, 1992
Leanne's wedding ceremony was short and sweet, but emotional. I'll admit, I got a bit teary-eyed watching her stroll down that aisle, all choked up with happy tears but still beaming. On the downside, being a bridesmaid meant I couldn't shake the feeling of James' eyes on me the whole time. Him, Lars, and Kirk were all groomsmen at the wedding too.
James and I had crossed paths real quick at the hotel during breakfast, but it was like we were total strangers. Not a single word passed between us. Maybe I was being a bit stubborn, but after the nasty stuff he'd flung at me months back, I wasn't about to be the one to make the first move and patch things up.
The wedding’s reception kicked off pretty quickly, held at a beautiful historical mansion not far from our hotel. I snagged a seat at the table set aside for me, Dave, and a bunch of other folks while he headed off to grab some food. I glanced up with a grin when I noticed a familiar face plop down beside me.
"Hey, Kirk," I greeted, and he flashed me a warm smile.
"Hey, Nore! Finally tracked you down. So, I noticed Lea moved you to a different table... Is it 'cause you and James had a spat or 'cause your boyfriend's not our biggest fan?" he quipped, and I chuckled.
"Maybe a bit of both. But don't sweat it, Dave won't mind me hanging with you guys. As for James..." I let out a sigh. "How's he holding up?"
Kirk grimaced.
"The usual drill, ya know. Him and Lars got into it like three times on the tour... Lars keeps pushing him to hit up rehab, but James insists he’s good," he sighed, then flashed a grin. "Sorry 'bout the tiff you guys had. But he'll bounce back, trust me."
"I know. It's just frustrating when you wanna lend a hand but the other person isn’t having it," I admitted with a sigh, then glanced up as Dave strolled over with two plates of food. "Red alert, Dave's on the scene," I joked, and Kirk chuckled before standing up.
"I'll bail for now. Don't wanna ruffle your boyfriend's feathers too much. We'll chat later, Nore."
I flashed Kirk a smile as he headed off to join Lars and James at their table. Heat rushed to my cheeks when I sensed James looking my way, so I quickly turned my attention to Dave.
"Brought food," Dave grinned, sliding a plate in front of me before settling down beside me. "So, what was up with Hammett?"
"Just chatting. You know we haven’t seen each other in a while," I answered, a small smile playing on my lips. He scoffed, rolling his eyes, but didn't seem too bothered. "Jealous, much?" I teased.
"No need for jealousy, sweetheart. I know you're madly in love with me," he grinned, and I playfully nudged his arm, chuckling.
We wrapped up our meal, happily chatting the whole time. Once dinner was done, a sweet tune started playing, and I couldn't help but grin as I watched Leanne and Joe twirling around the dance floor. Leanne looked stunning in her fancy dress, her hair all dolled up with twinkling little gems. Joe looked like he was on cloud nine, beaming at her like she’d hung the moon. I felt Dave slide an arm around my waist, planting a soft kiss on my temple, and I melted into his embrace.
The party flowed like honey, with drinks pouring freely, mouthwatering meals, and catching up with old friends. Leanne had rounded up a bunch of folks from our San Francisco days, so mingling was easy. Dave and I bounced around, shooting the breeze with different faces, and as the booze kicked in, things got looser. I ended up deep in conversation with Lars at one point, while Dave snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I couldn't help but chuckle at how unexpected and unlikely the moment felt.
The only person I hardly even crossed paths with was James. I mean, there was this one time when I was heading back from the bathroom and accidentally plowed right into him. He caught me, his hands gripping my shoulders tight, and I couldn't help but blush when I looked up and saw it was him. I took a step back, my face probably as red as a tomato, while he just stood there, all serious, not saying a word.
"What?" I snapped, my voice a bit sharper than I meant it to be. He just kept on staring at me, like he was trying to figure out what to say, but I wasn't in the mood to hash things out with him. I spun on my heel and headed back to Dave, who was busy grabbing us a couple of drinks at the bar.
“Hey, babe. You good?" Dave asked, passing me a glass filled with a drink. I took a sip and nodded, shooting a quick glance over at James, who was still eyeing me from afar. We locked eyes for a sec, both of us clearly ticked off, until Dave caught on and followed my gaze. He frowned, grabbing my hand. "C'mon, let's go somewhere else."
I tore my gaze away from James, ditching my drink on some random table as I trailed after Dave, feeling kinda intrigued. The way Dave's shoulders tensed up told me he wasn't exactly thrilled about the silent stare-down I just had with James.
He led me through the mansion's hall and out the back door, where we found ourselves in a huge, empty garden since most of the guests were still inside. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was up to, as he guided me to a secluded spot in the garden. My eyes widened in surprise when he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me before planting a harsh kiss on my lips.
"What's the deal with you and James?" he growled, catching me off guard with the intensity in his voice.
"Dave, it’s nothing," I murmured, but he just grunted in response, kissing me again with a bit too much force, his tongue pushing into my mouth without any of the usual gentleness. I let out a little moan, taken aback, gripping onto his arms as his hold on my waist tightened.
"He's been eyeing you all night, and now you can't seem to take your eyes off him," he murmured, giving my lip a light nip as he backed me against the wall. He slid one knee between my legs and his hand rested lightly on my neck. "You gonna clue me in on why you're giving him all this attention?"
"He's just being a jerk. I'm not giving him the time of day, I... Oh!" I gasped when Dave spun me around, pressing my back against him and pulling me close, letting me feel his hard-on as he started kissing my neck. "Dave, hold on, you're drunk..."
"And what if I am? You are too," he grunted, but eased up on his hold a bit. His lips, however, kept on working their magic on my skin, planting soft kisses that sent shivers down my spine. "What's wrong? You wanna go back to him?"
"It's not that," I murmured, daring to turn to face him again. Dave looked at me, his eyes filled with turmoil as I gripped onto his arms, feeling my heart pounding and my cheeks heating up. "I want you, Dave," I declared, reaching up to his face and wiping away the lipstick that had smeared from my lips to his. He grunted, grabbing my wrist before pressing me back against the wall, his lips finding my neck once more as he nibbled and sucked gently. I let out a little moan, caught off guard, closing my eyes. "Dave..."
"If I make it crystal clear to everyone that you're mine, will that jerk finally back off?" he growled, nipping at my neck again in a way that I knew would leave a mark. I gasped, clutching onto his shirt and shutting my eyes. "You know I'm planning to fuck you stupid all night long, right?"
"Hmm... Dave, please..." I begged, not entirely sure if I wanted him to stop or to keep going. He grunted, but pulled back, leaving me with one last kiss on my neck before stepping away, his cheeks flushed and his gaze burning with intensity.
"We should head back," he suggested, his voice low and husky, his fingers intertwining with mine. I nodded, my heart still pounding, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through me at his touch.
We made our way back to the party; Dave and I ducked into the bathrooms to freshen up before rejoining the crowd. I blushed when I caught sight of myself in the mirror: flushed cheeks, smudged lipstick, hair slightly tousled, and two distinct red marks on my neck's smooth skin. I did my best to fix my hair and makeup, dabbing at the hickeys with cold water in a vain attempt to reduce the bruises that I knew would linger for days.
I headed to the bar, grabbing a glass of water to cool down. I glanced around, searching for Dave, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he hadn’t left the bathroom yet. I settled at a table with a sigh, my heart still fluttering a bit.
"Your guy's a bit possessive, huh?" a voice chimed in, and I glanced up to see James with that familiar smirk on his face, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and bitterness.
"After all this time, that's your opening line?" I shot back, my tone icy. He took a seat beside me, his gaze fixating on the marks on my neck. His fingers traced the edges of the redness softly, sending a shiver down my spine.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he muttered, "You love having him under your spell. And me too," he added, lifting his gaze to meet mine, his eyes flickering with anger and something else, a mix of emotions I couldn't quite pin down, but definitely edged with desire.
"You're not even gonna say sorry? Just gonna stay there spewing out this nonsense?" I shot back, aiming for hostility but only managing to sound wounded. He scoffed, leaning in closer, his lips pressing against the bruises, kissing and biting them softly before he murmured against my skin:
"I'm sorry." Then he straightened up, leaving me stunned, heart racing and face flushed as I watched him walk away without a backward glance.
After the party wrapped up, Dave and I hopped in a taxi back to the hotel. We were quiet on the ride, his fingertips tracing little circles on my inner thigh, sending shivers up my spine. Once we got to our room, I headed to the bathroom, flicking on the tap to start filling the bathtub while Dave took his clothes off. Leaning against the door frame, I watched him kick off his shoes, feeling the buzz from the drinks at the party making me even more eager to pick up where we’d left off with that kiss.
"Are you hopping in the bath with me?" I asked, shooting Dave a coy smile as he loosened his tie. He smiled back and walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist and planting a soft kiss on my lips, while his hand fumbled for the zipper of my dress.
He paused when we heard knocks on the door. I frowned, wondering if it could be hotel staff or something. Dave sighed, annoyed, as the knocking continued.
"Better shut off the tap before we flood the room," he remarked, and I chuckled softly. "Let me handle this while you do it."
I headed into the bathroom, shutting off the tap as I listened to Dave dealing with whoever was at the door. I perked up, intrigued, when I heard a familiar voice followed by Dave's tense and irritated tone:
"You've got some guts showing up here, huh?"
I furrowed my brow, puzzled, and went back to the room, my jaw dropped in confusion when I spotted James at the door, locking eyes with Dave in a standoff.
"James?" I blurted out, taken aback, and both men turned to look at me, frustration and anger etched on both their faces. "What the hell are you doing here?"
He eyed me for a beat, tension thickening as Dave's gaze drilled into him. It was like mixing gasoline with a lit match; all of us were already worked up and intoxicated after a night of partying, and James clearly had some bones to pick with both Dave and me. James made a move to step into the room, but Dave cut him off, blocking the entrance with his arm.
"She asked you a fucking question," Dave growled, and James finally glanced at him, a sarcastic smirk creeping onto his lips.
"I came here to talk to her, not to you," James slurred, his voice thick with alcohol. Dave looked ready to snap, his free hand balling into a fist.
"Dave," I stepped in, grabbing his arm and easing it down. He turned to me, and I placed my hand on his chest. "It's alright. Let him in."
Dave sighed heavily but reluctantly moved aside, his face tight with tension, his eyes burning with anger and his lips pressed into a thin line.
"You're like her little lapdog, aren't you? Whatever she wants, you jump, just to keep her happy," James remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I shot him a disapproving look, furrowing my brow, but before I could respond, Dave interrupted with a growl:
"And what about you, huh? You're here to grovel for her forgiveness?" Dave stepped forward, confronting James with a challenging glare. I glanced nervously between them, reaching out to touch Dave's arm in a futile attempt to calm him, but he shrugged me off. "I see the way you look at her, Hetfield. You think I don't notice? You're pathetic."
"That's the crux of it, isn't it?" James snarled. "You and I, we're cut from the same cloth. We both crave her love, her attention, hoping we'll be the lucky one she picks in this messed-up game."
"Except she already chose me," Dave shot back. "Game over. And you know I don't like sharing what's mine."
"Maybe you guys should give it a shot," I blurted out, without really thinking, eager to diffuse the tension between them, but instantly regretting it. Dave and James both turned to look at me, wearing expressions of disbelief, while I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Um... I just meant..."
"Try sharing you?" Dave chuckled, as if what I’d said was totally nonsensical. I blushed when he gently lifted my chin with his hand, locking eyes with me as he leaned in close, his words a soft whisper, "You don't even know what you're asking for, do you, sweetheart?"
"I just don't want you guys fighting," I murmured, pleadingly. "Please, Dave. You know I care about both of you."
James chuckled, shifting our focus away from each other. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, he had that same intense look in his eyes as when we’d talked earlier — anger, jealousy, and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on at first, but then recognized: longing.
"You always play nice with everyone and it drives me fucking crazy," he remarked, moving closer and closing the door behind him. My heart raced as his hand trailed down my neck to collarbone, all while Dave kept a close eye on him. "There's no escaping this, Nore. Choosing one means hurting the other. And he's got a point." James shot a glance at Dave, who raised an eyebrow. "I'm not exactly great at sharing what's mine either. You know you can't have us both, right?"
"I know. But I don't wanna lose either of you," I admitted, feeling my cheeks heat up as James came closer with a growl, planting his lips on mine. I gasped in surprise, and he seized the moment to slip his tongue into my mouth, his hands firm on my waist. I let out a soft moan as I felt Dave's lips on my neck, planting slow kisses until he reached my ear.
"You sure about this?" he questioned, and I nodded, shutting my eyes and yielding to James' kiss, eliciting a soft growl from him as I tangled my fingers in his hair. "Didn't know you were this greedy, babe," Dave murmured, but he didn't seem upset, more like amused.
Was this really happening? It was hard to wrap my head around it, hard to think straight as the lips of the two men I loved roamed over my mouth, my neck, my skin, igniting sensations that made my whole body tingle. Dave's fingers deftly unzipped my dress.
"Talk to me," James whispered in my ear, and I shut my eyes, my lips parting slightly as I exhaled, Dave still planting kisses on my neck as he eased down my dress. "Tell me you want this, I gotta hear it from you."
"Please, I want both of you," I breathed out, and Dave tightened his grip around my waist, pulling me snug against his body while James teased my earlobe.
I let out a sigh as Dave tilted my head, locking his lips with mine, our tongues moving together while James worked on unclasping my bra and took a nipple into his mouth, giving it a playful nip before leaving small hickeys all over my soft skin. I couldn't help but moan, the sensations overwhelming me. I was completely lost in the moment, swept away by the touch of both of them. It was beyond anything I'd ever dared to dream.
James backed off a bit, his hands resting gently on my hips while Dave went back to peppering my neck with kisses, his hardness pressed against my butt. I stole a glance at James, noticing his distant gaze and flushed cheeks as he watched me, his fingers tracing my cheek softly.
"How do you pull it off? You're still perfect even when you're messing with my head," James muttered, and Dave snarled softly, leaning his head on my shoulder, their eyes locking for a moment. James' expression was hard, revealing a blend of frustration and reluctant acceptance.
"Why do you think I'm crazy about her?" Dave murmured, his lips trailing from my neck up to my jawline in a slow, deliberate path.
I sighed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as I sensed a kind of understanding forming between the three of us, albeit slowly; Dave and James were like two sides of the same coin, always had been, brothers of fire and anger even before all their pain had driven them apart. Was it such a shocker that they'd both end up falling for the same woman? Was it such a surprise that I'd end up loving them both?
Maybe we always knew it would eventually lead to this. Maybe we’d all been waiting for this moment, a collision of stars, like waves crashing on the shore on a rainy day. It was dangerous, but exhilarating — so much so that I almost wished we wouldn't cross this line, because I knew I could never come back.
But, at least from now, it seemed good enough to be worth it.
James took a step back, loosening his shirt’s buttons and slipping it off gradually, working on undoing his pants next. I watched him, feeling a shiver run down my spine as Dave's hands caressed my breasts softly. I let out a sigh as James came closer, and reached out, my fingers tracing the edge of his underwear slowly. James grunted, grabbing my hand on his and pressing it against the outline of his erection.
"No way," Dave grunted, clutching my wrist tightly, while James arched an eyebrow. "She's mine first. You can watch," he declared, and James chuckled, rolling his eyes with a smirk. Dave wrapped his arm around my waist, pivoting me to face him, and planted a slow kiss on my lips as I unfastened his shirt.
"Is this your way of proving I'm yours?" I whispered, and he grunted against my lips. "By fucking me in front of him?"
Dave didn't say a word; he guided me to the bed, laying me down and sliding off my panties before undoing his pants and lowering them. James joined us on the bed, shedding his underwear and stretching out, placing my head on his thigh and tenderly running his fingers through my hair, his gaze fixed on my face as he caressed it. Dave finished stripping, then climbed on top of me; I shut my eyes, letting out a soft moan as he pushed into me and I felt him spread me open. James let out a low, rough sound, leisurely stroking my hair. When I looked at him, I saw he held his hard cock in his hand, jerking it softly.
I shifted my gaze to Dave, who kissed me slowly, his intense hazel eyes serious as he pushed into me. His lips moved against mine, his tongue intertwining with mine as he thrust forcefully. I let out soft moans against his mouth, tears brimming in my eyes from the pleasure of feeling him inside me.
"Dave…" I whispered, and he groaned, pulling me close, our gazes locking in a heated embrace.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, urging him to go deeper, gripping his hair tightly. James growled, tilting my face up and guiding his cock to my lips. I eagerly opened my mouth, taking him in, and he moaned softly. Dave kissed my neck, sucking on the tender skin, leaving even more bruises that sent shivers down my spine, but I didn't mind. In that moment, all I could focus on was the sensation of James and Dave, both of them, with me, together.
"Fuck," Dave whispered in my ear, his actions growing more fervent. "If I knew it felt this good to have you with an audience, I would've suggested it ages ago."
"If I knew you'd be into it, I would've brought it up sooner," I whispered back, stroking James' cock slowly with my hand and sighing when Dave started to massage my clit with his fingertips. I moaned, gripping him tightly, and he shut his eyes, thrusting into me with more vigor.
"You're almost there, aren't you?" Dave whispered, and I nodded, unable to form words. James gently brushed away the tears of ecstasy that welled in my eyes, his touch so tender it sent shivers down my spine. I took him back into my mouth, and he let out a soft groan, moving slowly as I continued to pleasure him.
I let out a long, satisfied moan, tightening around Dave as waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and breathless. Dave groaned, his face buried in my neck as he reached his own climax, his release flooding into me with a low grunt.
Taking a moment to catch my breath, I pulled James out of my mouth, my lips meeting Dave’s as he shifted beside me. He brushed the hair away from my face, planting gentle kisses along my neck and shoulders as I took James back in my mouth, meeting his gaze with a mixture of desire and satisfaction.
James tangled his fingers in my hair, guiding my movements as his hips rocked gently. His flushed face and parted lips revealed his arousal as I worked my tongue, eliciting soft sighs from him. Meanwhile, Dave's kisses grew more fervent, his hand trailing down to where my body was still slick with our fluids. His touch on my already overstimulated clit made me shiver, and I couldn't help but moan in response. James then bucked his hips forward with a moan, tightening his grip on my head, his release filling my mouth with a warmth that sent a thrill through me.
"Good girl," Dave murmured approvingly as James pulled away from my mouth, running a finger along my slightly swollen lips. I swallowed, feeling a rush of warmth and satisfaction. I turned to Dave, and he leaned in, planting slow kisses along my jawline. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment, but Dave gently cupped my face, urging me to look at him. "Don't shut your eyes, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "We're not done with you yet."
I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush and my heart beat faster as Dave shifted away and James pulled me onto his lap, my legs wrapping around his hips as I sensed him growing hard once more. Dave let out a sigh, positioning himself behind me, his hands firmly on my waist providing support as he nibbled on my earlobe. I closed my eyes, nestling my face into James' neck and wrapping my arms around it as Dave raised my hips, allowing James to enter me with deliberate slowness.
This was gonna be a long, long night.
✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope @ilovepapahet @decemberm0on
tysm for the tag @kazbrekkersfedoraaintgotshitonme <33
Too Sweet by Hozier
obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo
Alley Rose by Conan Gray
no pressure tags: @emily-mooon @musicalchaos07 @anything-thats-rock-and-roll + anyone else who wants to join (I am just too scared to tag anyone else tbh 😭)
No pressure tags: @therockywhorerpictureshow @whatsupvic @inanebula @ladyrosesblog @marscrassss @blazezshizposts @r0syr3a @pockcock @just-emmaaaa @rhythm-catsandwine and anyone who wants to do it!
wanting to talk to people is so fucking embarrassing. literally hi it's me again I wanted to have a conversation with you because I think you're fun to talk to. oh god you can just fucking kill me if you want sorry
