liltingoddesss - Tumblr blog

liltingoddesss · 5 months

Text

AWWW CHECK OUT MY BESTIE'S FIC!!!

✦ ✩ ✮ - 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 • 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 • 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚 • 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

Here we go for the third part ! It's not the most interesting part of the series but it was a necessary chapter for what's coming next. Special thank youu to my bestiee beta reader @liltingoddesss for her precious help! <333 Thank you to all of you for your patience, support, likes and kind words (@aplaceforyourhearttorest and @ihavenolife346 <333).

Enjoy <3

Warnings : age gap

Previous parts

James hands gripped your hips as he carefully pushed his dick out from inside you, in a deep and low groan. He panted heavily as he looked down at your sore pussy, recovering from his own climax. You gasped in a whine when he thrusted out, free now to stretch your thighs as you glance up at him.

The air was absolutely thick and hot in the room and you bet there was some steam on the bay windows. You could smell this mixture of sweat and sex smell hitting your nose but you didn't mind. You crossed your legs and rolled on your side as you locked your gaze on him again, silently admiring the man you had dreamed of. You couldn't realize what just happened...it was like a pleasant dream and you could still feel the effect of your orgasms running through your veins.

You noticed James' pupils were lighter blue again now. His chest was rising slowly with every breath he was taking as he seemed to come back to his senses. You wondered if he enjoyed the sex you just had. Did he like it as much as you did? It was hard to tell...James was silent, and his face wasn't showing any kind of emotions. This started to worried you...

He was so chatty when he flirted with you and when he brought you up into his room. He kept being talkative during sex, praising you with kind and sexy words so why now leaving you like this? Did you do something wrong? Was he like this with every women?

This silence started to hurt and to make you feel uncomfortable. It hurt your confidence most of all. You didn't even ask for a cuddle or something but just a comment about what happened and if it had been enjoyable.

James' coughed and this suddenly brought you back into the hotel room. Your gaze was lost somewhere else and came back on him when he got up from the bed, moving the mattress with all his weight. You hoped for something but instead, he disappeared into the bathroom with no words exchanged. No glance. Nothing.

This made your heart clenched. All the good sensations you may have felt with sex disappeared. You felt so stupid. And you felt even worse a couple minutes later when you heard the water running, indicating he was now showering. It wasn't necessary anymore to think about what you should do cause a rejection would have been more painful than indifference. So it was time to leave.

You rolled on your side, jumping on your feet quickly, in search of your clothes and underwear. In less than two minutes, you were ready to leave, lacing up your Converses in a hurry to not be caught. You chuckled at this thought. Why being nervous to be caught? After all, this is what he wanted right?

You jumped on your feet once again when something stroke your attention. A notepad on the desk. You looked back at the bathroom's door, wondering if you should left a note or something. After all, he had been kind and nice with you until...

You shook your head as you finally decided to leave without a word. James coughed again in the bathroom as you heard the shower being turned off and you took it as a signal to make you leave this room in a hurry...

✦ 𝐀𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✮

"Wait, wait girl...hold on. Can you say it again, please?". Your best friend couldn't believe what you just confessed to her.

It was 1am when you rushed to call her. You couldn't sleep. Even if work and sex drained a part of your energy, your mind didn't seem to accept to give you some rest. When you came back into your room, you first spent almost 30 mins in the shower, lost in your thoughts, hoping the hot water running on your skin would make you forgive all your feelings. Once inside the covers however, your mind took control again and prevented you from finding peace.

Luckily, it was late afternoon in California and you knew your best friend was always ready to talk, no matter what time it was.

"(X/Y), please...", you sighed, already embarrassed about what you just confessed to her. Since high school you always shared everything to each other but somehow, for an unknown reason, you couldn't stop having mixed feelings for what you did tonight. "I told you...I was with James Hetfield tonight and we did it together...", you repeated once again, with a low voice, like if you were scared someone would be listening to your conversation behind the door.

"Is he with you now? Why are you whispering?".

"No, he's not. I just left after it was finished. I'm in my room now".

"You left?", she asked, curious. "Why?".

You sighed again, pinching the bridge of your nose. As if it wasn’t hard enough..."It was just...you know...", you searched for the right words, as your fingers played with the edge of the cover in front of your crossed legs.

Why did you leave exactly? That was a good question and you weren't quite sure of the answer.

Deep inside, you knew you'd have loved to stay but the fact he didn't share anything with you, not even a glance or a word, was enough to make you feel sad. You felt ridiculous to have even believed he'd have wanted something more than just sex with you. You felt dumb for even thought that all these kind words and attentions towards you could mean something. Plus it hurts that he doesn't even say a word after sex. He could have lied, you wouldn't have been mad about it and you probably wouldn't even knew it, but at least, you could known if you're a good catch or not...You guess you were facing the truth and that's why you were hurt. With no experience in one-night stands, it was difficult to figure all this out.

"He wanted to fuck, I accept, that's all. What should I have done uh? Stay in the bed and waiting for some cuddles and aftercare. It would have been awkward, we don't know each other...".

"...and what if he wanted that?". You frowned at her question and just pictured the scenario in your mind. But it was absolutely ridiculous and you shook your head at the idea. His attitude would have been different then.

"No way. He's a rockstar, he just wanted to have some fun. We weren't on a date or something", you snapped back, shaking your head as you took a more comfortable position in your bed, laying on your back now.

"Then, if you're so sure about it, why do you call me in the middle of the night to tell me all this? You sound rather worried about it...".

There, she was right. Again. You looked down and sighed, remaining silent. Your best friend heard you sighed of despair and smiled on the other side of the line, she knew you so well.

"Listen sweetheart", she began with a comforting tone, "you don't have to feel guilty or bad for what you've done, okay? He was the one asking for this, you just answered to an ask. You won't be held responsible and you won't lose your job for that. Just enjoy what happened and don't stress yourself too much about it, you promise?".

"I can try...", you replied with a shrug, even though she couldn't see it. "I'm aware of everything you just said and thanks for saying that but...he didn't say anything (X/Y). Nothing. It doesn't help your confidence you know...".

"You mean, he didn't say something like..."Thanks it was awesome" or..?"

"Nothing", you repeated with a sigh, looking at the ceiling.

"Oh...that's rude. But don't worry sweetheart, okay? Maybe it's just his character, maybe he'll tell you something tomorrow? Who knows? Maybe he thought you'd still be there in his room to tell you after showering but you disappeared. Don't freak out. Everything will be alright".

A smile slowly appeared on your lips and you whispered a grateful "thank you" to her. That's why you were always referring to her when you needed help. She always knew the words to say to make you feel better.

"Tell me now...was he a good fucker?", she asked in a giggle and you shushed her immediately.

"Oh c'mon girl, don't tell me he isn't because I wouldn't believe you. How was it? You enjoyed it I hope?". You only giggle at her assumptions and this was enough to make her react more. "Okay don't tell me much. I get it. He's a sex god and he got a real big one".

"You're unbeliveably vulgar my dear".

"Vulgar? Say the girl who just fucked with a rockstar". You both laughed loud and you knew you were feeling better.

After you chatted a little more about the roadie experience and how things were going for her, you decided to hang up the phone around 3am, with a lighter heart now. She was right, tomorrow would be a new day.

✦ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐲 ✮

The day went by surprisingly fast and soon the time for the show arrived. From the morning till now, you could avoided meeting the band and it was perfect. Your presence wasn't necessary during their rehearsals and when you were needed around the stage area, they were already back in backstage, relaxing and getting mentally prepared.

You could do your work as usual then, without this constant fear to bump against him. Even if the chat you had with your best friend helped you to see with another point of view last night events, you still didn't want to face James. Luckily you were busy enough to not have the time to think about him either.

The second band who played before Metallica finished their show and the head chef of the staff asked you to do a last check up on every station to see if nothing was missing. You accomplished your task in a hurry, knowing you only had 30 mins to check up everything. 30 mins was pretty fast for such task.

As you ran around the stage, you could felt the energy, the impatience and the thrill coming from all the fans in the stadium and it was absolutely exciting. You smiled at this as you asked James' stations technicians if something was missing and indeed, someone forgot to bring some replacement stuff. In a hurry, you go back in the other way, looking for what you needed.

You knew where those materials where stored and you ran over the area, making a way between all the fans walking around the VIP area and the other staff members getting ready for the show. As soon as your eyes noticed the storage's place, you stopped running to walk the few meters left when you felt someone griping your wrist.

You turned around, thinking it would be a crew member, but when your eyes met those familiar pierces icy blue eyes, your heart skipped a beat and you gasped of surprise.

"Can we talk?", he asked with a neutral tone. You nodded in agreement, not really thinking about the fact this is exactly what you wanted to avoid all day long. But if James Hetfield was asking you something, you had to do it.

You followed him inside his backstage room and noticed he didn't stop holding your hand. Some flashbacks of last night started to play into your mind and you bit your lower lip, trying to stay calm. He closed the door and faced you, now letting go of your hand. He was already wearing his stage outfit and you couldn't stop thinking how gorgeous he was looking in this black vest with bare sleeves. You knew he was shirtless underneath and it was a pure sin for the eyes.

You gulped and looked up at him, wondering what he wanted to talk about. Again, his silence was a torture and you hoped he'd start talking first cause you were completely mute now that you were in front of him.

"Why did you leave last night?". His question surprised you and didn't make any sense. You opened your mouth, ready to say something, but instead you remained quiet, wondering why this worried him.

"I-...", you started, licking your lips as you were searching for the right words. "I thought...this is what you wanted me to do...?", you finally confessed. You crossed your arms over you chest, feeling uncomfortable and dumb again.

How come you could be so ridiculous in front of this man. You turned your gaze on the right side and didn't see James frowned when he heard your answer. He stepped closer and his tobacco/aftershave smelt hit your nose. You blushed more, hoping this would end pretty fast cause you couldn't live this situation anymore. But when his palm connected with your burning cheek, you finally met his glance, with a questioning look.

"Honestly, I thought you'd have stayed with me. I was surprised to see you disappeared like a thief in the night", it was his turn to confess with a smirk.

"I'm sorry", you let out as you felt your heart jumping faster into your ribcage. It was like you were living a dream, you weren't really there with him, right? You couldn't say to him it was rather his fault cause his attitude made you think it was time to leave.

You were searching for a better answer when he said, "Come back to me tonight". The words hit you again and you couldn't believe it.

"What?", you asked out, the words escaping your mouth before you even realized they were out. James chuckled softly and his hand disappeared behind your neck and hair, resting in a comforting place there. You, on the other hand, were blushing more and cursing yourself for acting so stupidly in front of him. But your body was betraying you.

"Meet me tonight. I want to spend some time with you".

"James...I...", you started, unsure. Was it really a good idea?

Suddenly, a strong knock on the door, broke the silence and you jumped off surprise, watching the door. It was a crew member telling James he should be in the stadium entry in 2 mins. Luckily, no one was coming in otherwise you'd have been fired immediately.

"Yeah, I'm coming", he replied louder to the guy before he put his attention back on you. "So...what do you say?".

"James, is it really a good idea? I mean...I don't...", you mumbled as many ideas crossed your mind. You didn't know what to say, you were in absolute hurry now that the show was about to start and you didn't even come back to the station with the material needed and...

"I...I have to go, I'm sorry. I have to bring back some material at your station and...", you declared in a hurry, as an excuse, stepping over the door but James stopped you before you could leave, gripping your wrist again to pull you against him this time.

The next thing you felt was his rough but sweet lips on yours, sharing a shy but deep kiss. You closed your eyes and you felt the same butterflies running through your stomach. Your hands naturally found a place on his cheek as you enjoyed this physical touch you admit you had missed.

When you opened your eyes again, he was looking deep at you and this was enough to make you shiver hard. This guy was like a drug. Dangerous but so delicious...

The knock on the door resounded again and louder this time.

It was time now.

"Meet me tonight sweetheart. Please. I really want to spend time with you", he insisted again, speaking close to your lips and you finally agreed, nodding your head.

"I'll be there", you promised and he leaned to kiss you again, deeper this time before he left in a hurry, leaving you alone in the backstage, with a heart exploding of joy and head full of hopes but uncertainties.

131 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 6 months

Note

i miss my daily dose of serotonin (you)!!

AWW I'M HERE HONEYY!! <33

1 note · View note

liltingoddesss · 6 months

Text

it’s november rain season motherfuckers.

147 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 6 months

Note

It's been a long time since I send you something and I know how much you love current James so...here he is only for you honey <333

aww honeyy!!

i do love him sooo much-

he's literally my dream man

#james hetfield #metallica #james #hetfield #papa het #i love him so much #i need him #i wanna kiss his face #i'm going insane #thank you sweetheart!!#in hav3n #bye

31 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 6 months

Text

THIS WAS SO GOOD, HONEY!! LITERALLY AMAZING, THANK YOU!

i wish i could actually have this-

Request #15 - Happy birthday

James Hetfield (1999 x reader) Warnings : smut, NSFW, a HOT session of pussy eating and fingering A/N : This is a birthday gift for bestie! Happy birthday sweetheart <333

The sun was slowly shining through the clouds, the birds were gradually chirps through the silence of dawn when James opened his eyes on this Monday morning. He staid still for a while, just enjoying this peaceful time as he emerged step by step from his sleep. He could hear the outside sounds, telling him it was the morning already but he wanted more to enjoy the comfort sound of your breathing against his neck.

He moved his head carefully to look down at you as a smile crossed his face. You had snuggled up against him during the night and there was nothing more enjoyable than feeling your body against his. He smiled more and kissed your forehead, thinking how truly grateful he was for having you in his life. Who could have said the almighty Hetfield would have found love, after all the things he had been through ? He knew he was blessed to have you by his side, despite everything he had done in his past.

Suddenly, he remembered what day we were today. Precisely the day of your birthday. James grinned at the thought of everything he had planned for you to enjoy this special moment but since he was early awake, an idea crossed his mind...he could enjoy this precious time in the morning to offer you the first part of your birthday's gift.

Carefully and slowly, he moved away from your arms and waited for a short time. He wanted to be sure you'd be still asleep and when he had the confirmation you were, he moved underneath the cover.

Even asleep, you must have felt he disappeared cause you rolled on your back, stretching like a starfish, sleeping deeply in that position. James waited still, and when he felt ready, he slowly started to kiss your legs and inner thighs until he reached your womanhood.

He waited for a short brief of time again and let his finger glided under your panties' waistband, playing with it to see if he got a single reaction and when you didn't react, he slowly take it off, sliding it from your waist till your ankles. James was absolutely slow and smooth in his movements, almost moving like a cat, but he really wanted to surprise you.

He grabbed your ankles and gently opened your legs, so he could sneaked between them, kissing every single part of your thighs. Even under the blanket, with just a dim light coming from the sun outside, he could see your skin reacted at his kiss, at the touch of his lips on your delicate flesh. Goosebumps were appearing slowly and this made him grin more.

He smiled and went further on his exploration, slowly arriving in front of the object of his desires. He parted your legs, pushing them slowly with his palms He could felt the heat radiating from your body and hoped his palms weren't too cold to wake you up.

When James got enough space, he sneaked closer to let his tongue pressing a kiss against your velvet button. He saw no reaction first and smiled, kissing it a few times. Still no reaction.

He then moved slowly the tip of his tongue on your clit now, licking and tasting it. He felt you moved a little but not enough to awaken you up. He kept doing his exploration, sucking your bund of nerves and couldn't resist to flick his tongue against your velvet lips now.

"Mmh...", he heard from outside the blanket and this helped him to go on. You were slowly feeling something and he loved that. His head was now buried in your pussy, devouring it feverishly as he started to collected some wetness coming from your hole.

He grinned big, seeing you so exposed and vulnerable, and pulled away to tease your clit with his fingertip now. Brusquely your legs started to move and he heard some moans and whines as he kept circling your button in a slow pace.

"Mmmh..", another moan and he understood you were slowly waking up, your palm searching for James next to your body until your realized that he was really under the blanket, buried between your legs. This wasn't a dream. You gasped and slowly pulled away the blanket to expose him to the day light.

"Hello...", he whispered, his lips a bit wet from the pleasure he had given to you for a couple of minutes now.

"What-What are you doing there ?", you asked with a grin, resting on your elbows, to look at your beloved boyfriend.

"Pleasuring my love", he simply answered as he rubbed his long finger against your wet lips, making your shiver and moan at the same time.

"Oh James...", you whispered. "you're torturing me". You gasped again when you feel his index teasing your hole. James was pretty proud of the effect he had on you. He spat on your pussy and teased you with his finger again, letting it in and out slowly.

"You know how much I love to tease that pretty pussy of yours...", he whispered as he buried his head again on you, devouring your clit while his finger worked you out, stretching your pussy's walls.

"Oh my fucking god....More please", you exhaled in a cry, wiggling your pelvis against his mouth, wanting more. You couldn't stop looking at him and gripped his hair to show him to way you like it.

James pulled out in a gasp, rubbing your wetness as he gave you a proud grin. He inserted another finger inside your pussy while his other hand rested lazily on your pelvis, shaking your clit.

"God", he groaned, "so fucking wet for me baby... feel those fingers pushing in and out so easily in you?".

"Mmh...", you sighed of pleasure as your body fell on the mattress, eyes closed and mouth parted, hands gripping the pillow next to you. Your legs were wide opened and you could felt every hit of his fingers deep inside you. "Jamie...please...yes".

But James didn't want you to finish so easily...he suddenly pushed his fingers out and pulled away his mouth. He knew your orgasm were slowly building and he wanted to play with you more, making you feel the edge of desire burning deep inside you.

You opened your eyes, surprised and shocked, frowning at him but all you got is a proud grin again and a giggle.

"Thought I'd have let you cum so easily baby"?", he mocked as he felt the power he had on you. You bit your lip at his comment and started to move your pelvis again, in a needy way, showing him how much you needed to cum now.

"C'mon James...please...", you begged, feeling a strong pain between your legs. Your pussy already throbbing at the thought of the pleasure you were about to feel. "I need to cum...I'm so horny"

"Say it again for me baby...", he teased. "Say to me how horny you are...". His other hand moved under your ass to lift it up a bit, helping his position.

"I'm so horny James...I'm so wet for you, please...give it to me".

"Good girl", he grinned and slapped his palm against your pussy, making your moan louder and gasping of pleasure. His other hand gripped your ass firmly. His right palm hit your sensitive clit and this was enough to awaken your burning desire again.

James then waisted no time to push three fingers inside you, pushing them deeper. They thrusted easily, collecting all the wetness around your cunt and you let it go again, abandoning yourself to the desire you were feeling.

"Oh James...this feels so good".

"I know baby...let it go", he said as moved closer to eat you out again, this time ready to push you over the edge. His fingers gave you no mercy and his tongue rubbed every part of your wet lips, taking not resting time to be sure to send you to heaven.

"GOD...yes!", you whined louder this time, gripping his head and hair hard, not caring if it could hurt him. "Oh yes please...like this James...yes...don't stop", you breathed as your back arched slowly, feeling the pleasure pulsing slowly inside your lower belly until he finally reached that point that makes you explode.

James didn't stop moving, on the contrary. He pushed further and licked harder when he felt your pussy squeezing around his tongue and fingers, ready to make you ride your orgasm till the end.

You explode like you've never did before. Your orgasm hit you strongly, making you shiver, shudder and convulse hard. Your legs shook around James head and your mouth let out incoherent words and praise of how good he was making you feel.

You gripped the pillow hard and buried your face in it, hiding some of the whines and moans you could have let it out until you felt the pleasure getting down, running now through your veins.

You panted heavily, recovering slowly when James sucked your high sensitive clit one last time, as a way to reward you for being a good girl.

"Oh!", you moaned again, looked at him with big smile and you both giggled. "You teaser".

"I love to please you", James said with his low and sexy voice, kissing your pussy again before moving close to you to kiss you on your lips. You tasted yourself and smiled, sharing a deep passionate kiss and when your lips slowly parted away, he whispered a "Happy birthday my love" that makes you fall in love with him all over again...

236 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 6 months

Text

THIS MAN-

James and his book Messengers, a collection of his guitars & their histories.

#james hetfield #metallica #he's so fine #bye

153 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 6 months

Note

AAAH GIRL, THIS WAS-

UGH, I LOVED IT!!

So I have a request. I saw the post you did of Y/N taking Care of James after he got his arm burned. I was wondering if you could reverse the rolls? Like Y/N is a part of Metallica (like a second bassist of guitarist), is James’s girlfriend, and instead of James not being able to live away from the fire in time Y/N is the one who can’t. So in other words what it would be like if the burn happened to Y/N instead and how James would react.

Request #14 - Saving her

James Hetfield (92 era) x reader Warnings : mentions of pyro accident A/N : OMG this idea is absolutely perfect ! James and girlfriend being in the same band, that's exactly what I wanted to hear. Hope you'll like it <3

Sat on the waiting room of the Montreal hospital, head into his hands, James tried to recover from the previous hours events. In just a few seconds, the worst happened. Something they could never ever imagined happened, making his own world falling apart.

"Do you want a coffee, man?", Lars asked, placing a gentle and comfort hand on his friend's shoulder. James slowly moved his body to face the drummer and simply nodded. He wasn't thirsty but a hot coffee would maybe help him to relax a little. Lars nodded back and disappeared into the double doors, going straight to the cafeteria.

Since two hours now James was waiting in this depressing corridor for some news of you and he slowly started to go crazy. He was waiting to see this damn white door getting opened on a doc or nurse to tell him you were safe...

or not...

He sighed at this idea and rested his head against the wall behind him, his palms nervously rubbing his thighs. They were sweaty and he didn't like it. He closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths but it was impossible to relax. Pictures of the accident immediately crossed his mind and made him shivered.

He could still pictured you on the stage, him on a side, you on the other. You were both rocking hard, playing "Holier than thou" and performing probably one of the best show of your career and life until you stood at the wrong place at the wrong time...

James realized too late where you were and when the fire started, he could just heard your screams throughout the riffs, saw your body stepping back and falling on the stage. He didn't think twice. His instinct told him to react quickly.

James pulled off his guitar that fell on the ground and ran over you. Kirk and Lars didn’t see what happened and wondered why their friend stopped playing until they noticed you. They joined James and some staff members who came to see what's going on. But soon enough they decided to talk to the audience who was wondering too what was happening.

James fell on his knees next to you, not caring about the pain he could fell, and grabbed your face. You were pale, big drops of sweat were running along your forehead as you were whining off pain. Your arm was completely burned and James could see your arm's flesh burned and red. He tried to not look frightened or scare cause it wasn't the time to falter. But it was so difficult...

"Stay with me baby...", he kept whispering, your eyes watered by your tears of pain and your mouth tensed up by the pain. He saw you moving your eyes to look up at him but you were like paralyzed by the pain and the fear, you couldn't even speak.

"Everything will be alright...". He heard his own voice cracking under the emotions and tried to remain calm. But he knew how much a burn could be serious...

Suddenly, two medics arrived and proceeded to take you to the nearest hospital. James heard them babbling about how serious this was and tried to keep a cool head. He saw the panic in your eyes when they grabbed you by your head and feet to place you on the stretcher.

"It's okay love, they're gonna save you. I won't leave you I promise", he grabbed your hand and held it until they walked out of the stage to put you in the ambulance. He didn't leave you a single minute, hearing the audience and his band mates voice vanishing slowly...

This image would be stuck in his mind forever. No doubt. He sighed again and started to shake his leg nervously. Damn, we arrived 2 hours ago, how many hours do they need to save her? . He felt a urge to smoke or to drink, he couldn't tell but right now, he needed anything that would make him forget the fact he was waiting desperately for a single new of you. But it wasn't the time to leave the place. He was ready to stay here forever if he had to...

The door opened again but not the one he had hoped. It was Lars coming back with two coffee cups. He thanked him and grabbed the cup he was handing to him. The hot liquid comfort him a little, as he expected but not for long...

"Still nothing?", the drummer asked his friend, blowing out over his coffee cup. James shook his head and leaned his elbows on his thighs.

"Nothing...and it's been 2 fucking hours".

"Easy James...I'm sure they do the best they can. She'll be there soon", Lars said to comfort his friend, knowing his temper. He was surprised James didn't make a scene or didn't break everything in the hospital yet.

James sighed loudly and ran a hand into his long hair. "I'm going fucking crazy. My mind is showing me horrible images of tonight, I-...", he shut himself and though carefully of the words he was using. "I wouldn't survive if she...", he couldn't say it loud and heard his own voice cracked.

"Hey....", Lars said with a soft voice, grabbing his friend's shoulder to squeeze it. "She's a strong girl. She won't leave you that easily man. You know her. She will overcome this, she'll be alright". James nodded and hoped his friend was alright...He had lost his best friend and brother a few years ago, he could't face another loss.

Like if Lars' words had been magical, the double white doors brusquely opened on a doctor. He walked over them, taking off his surgery's gloves. James quickly got up and gulped when he saw the blood on those gloves he was pulling it off. He tried to read the doctor's face to have an answer. Was he mad? Was he sad? Was he content? He couldn't tell.

"Mr Hetfield?", he asked with his serious voice as he stopped in front of the frontman.

"How is she doc ? Is she alright ? Can I see her?", James immediately asked.

"Easy James...", Lars repeated as he grabbed his friend's arm to make him stop harassing the doc with questions.

"Yes she's alright. Your girlfriend is safe now. We could treated her burns but she'd need to stay here for a while. She needs a specific medication", he started to explain but James was only hearing "she is safe".

He nodded at everything the doc said and sighed loud of relief when he left, telling them they were preparing you to go to a private room where James could meet you.

"See, I told you she was a strong girl!", Lars said as he happily hugged James, wearing a big smile on his face. James hugged his friend back, his smile hurting his cheeks. His heart could beat at a normal pace now.

"Wow...what a relief! I can't wait to see her", he said as clapped his hands together, feeling more than ready to see you. He had so many things to say but he already knew that the first thing he'd say to you was how much he loved you...cause with these 2 hours of waiting, he realized even more how much you meant to him.

125 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 6 months

Text

Hiii my lovely readers! <3

2 requests are coming tonight and 4 more are waiting to be written so be patient, it's coming soon!

Then I'd like to work on "Temptation part 3", cause I made a break on it one a few weeks ago and I'd like to finish it (don't know if there are still people who would like to see the next parts, I wrote this for ages lol).

Also I have an idea for a short fic about 2016 James as dad's best friend. What do you think ? Would you be interested to read something with that kink? 🤭 I'm seriously horny for it and I want to write something about it.

So I'm sorry but the requests will be closed from now on to give me time I need to write something for you without feeling guilty to let your idea in the ask box with no answer…Don't worry, I'll open them later cause I can't get enough of your perfect ideas !

Thanks again for your support <333

17 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 7 months

Text

NO WAY!!

this is actually adorable..

this woman better know how lucky she is-

#james hetfield #metallica #A #Adriana #bro is in love #i just want him to be happy #and if she's good enough to make this adorable man happy #then i'm happy too #what a sweetheart #james #hetfield #papa het #i love him so much #i don't even get why people are hating on Adriana for no reason #just because of some stupid rumors that people spread on TWITTER #just let him be happy #bye

19 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 7 months

Note

i just wanna kiss him and tell him that i love him.

HE'S SO PRETTY, I CAN'T HANDLE IT

this jaymz photo makes me wanna take him in my hands and kiss all over his face. those eyes :((( i love this big guy sm pls mnbvggnmm

56 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 7 months

Text

birthday slut here!

#aaaah it's my birthday #i'm 19 #and i'm gonna get a tattoo todayyyy #i'm so excited #birthday #(i need james to give me some birthday head)#that's it #have a nice day #bye

23 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 7 months

Note

yes, that's what i thought about her tits as well!!

Heather vibes???

heather vibes.

although her tits are smaller than this.

19 notes · View notes

liltingoddesss · 7 months

Text

oh my god. OH MY GOD.

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.

I CAN'T BREATHE-

I REALLY DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY-

𝙱.𝙰.𝚁.𝙴.𝙵.𝙾.𝙾.𝚃

⋆ ★ 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙷𝚎𝚝𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍

" 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚐𝚘𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚜 " ⋆ ★

part eight of multiple

𝙱.𝙰.𝚁.𝙴.𝙵.𝙾.𝙾.𝚃 • 𝙲.𝙾.𝙽.𝚃.𝙴.𝙽.𝚃.𝚂

⋆ ★ warnings: drug use

⋆ ★ word count: 6.4k

the contents of this story will not be for everyone. if you aren't comfortable with unethical and/or age-gap relationships, then do not read.

»»———-　story by 30-3am　———-««

Chapter Eight - Acceptance And Rejection

14th July, 10:07

Downey, CA

“You think he’s coming?” Thirteen years old. A teenager. A woman who had forcibly grown into the title years ago.

“Probably not.” There was ire laced in her tone, a contempt bubbling in the back of her throat as she lit up a cigarette, using the match to ignite the one candle that sat in the middle of a cake dowsed in pink icing.

“Can we wait for him?” Heather asked quietly.

“I ain’t waiting around for him.” Andrea tapped her ash onto a dirty plate that rested on the table she occupied, sniffing as she waited expectantly for the light of the candle to go out.

“Mama, please. I’m thirteen.” She protested.“Heather, he ain’t comin’ back.” She refuted.

“Mom-.”

“He ain’t coming back. Now, let's celebrate your birthday, okay?” She inhaled the smoke, puffing on the end of the cigarette and exhaling it with a cough. “Me and you is all we need.”

“I know, but Dad said he’d be here.”“He says a lot of shit, that father of yours.” She quickly performed the sign of the cross on account of her blasphemy, shaking her head as if to rid of the expletive and returned to her cigarette.

“I know he does but…just five more minutes to see if he’s coming?” Heather knew that he wasn’t going to arrive. He hadn’t attended her birthday the year before, or the year before that. She liked to hold onto hope though, to have faith in her father like her mother had faith in Christ. That faith was slowly trickling down the drain with each drop of a leaky tap.

“We can save him a piece.” Andrea’s tone was softer, seeing through her daughter's insistence and provided the solution with a drag of her cigarette, taking a long inhale before putting it out and placing a smile on her face. “C’mon, baby, you don’t want wax dripping on your cake do you?”

Heather supposed she was right. She did not want wax dripping on her cake and, when he came home, did not want to provide her dad with a piece of cake that was riddled with candle. He’d be disappointed. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint him.

“Yeah, okay.” She brushed her hair out of her face, holding the ends to her chest and closing her eyes, complying when her Mama told her to make a wish.

‘I wish Mama was happier and I wish Daddy was around more. I wish they’d get on so we can all be a normal family. ‘

She blew the candle out with a sharp exhale, watching it die and wither as she sucked the life from its dancing flame.

Heather couldn’t remember what her mom had said after that, the words fuzzy in her brain and not forming a cohesive sentence. Nor could she remember the inflexion in her accent that had been lost from her evocation years ago. She wasn’t sure why the memory had cropped up, her brain reaching into the darkest corner of the closet and searching for the moment she felt everything switch - when her awareness became her detriment and she couldn’t pretend there wasn’t anything wrong. Her dad had not come home that birthday. He had instead, been just a door over. At Stu’s. Getting drunk, high and sharing his friend's woman.

It had been a few days after when Stu came around looking for Andrea, nervously twitching and avoiding Heather’s eyes when she opened the door.

“You know where your Mom is?” He had asked, twitchy and sniffing; he hadn’t managed to wipe the white from his nose.

“At church…” Heather had replied. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah, shit, I probably shouldn’t be tellin’ ya, but Pammy’s gonna be openin’ that big mouth o’ hers and your Mom’s gonna find out before I can say anythin’.”

Heather had a confused expression plastered onto her countenance, impatiently waiting for an explanation.

“Find out what?”

There’d been a hiss from Stu, a comically pained look on his face as he leaned against the doorframe and avoided eye contact.

“Couple o’ days ago…your Daddy and I did some shit you should never do.” He paused to collect himself, building in a life lesson to appease any anger Heather might harbour towards him after what he was about to confess. “Pammy came home, and, well, you know Pammy.” He’d chuckled anxiously, biting the inside of his cheek and took a minute before placing a hand on Heather’s shoulder. “One thing led to another.” He ended his sentence there, staring at her and hoping she understood.

Heather had not felt anger like that in her life, the rage bubbling to the surface and spilling over like molten lava, crawling towards the closest thing she could reach.

“It was Pammy’s fault, really. Fuckin’ whore. And we were all drunk so-.”

Heather had slammed the door in Stu’s face, anger, flashing red in her eyes. That had been the day she broke her silence, when the facade she’d created in her mind, this father she craved and didn’t have shattered before her. She was walking over the shards of glass, numb to the bloodiness of her bare feet as a storm raged close behind her.

She had told her mother that night, listened to them argue, the sound of a smack and then silence.

For some reason, that had not been the last straw; her mother had stayed and the hopes of running from him were slandered, hanging by its neck on the gallows. Heather had asked why and her heart broke when her mom replied “Because it’s not right. God forbids it.” Heather had tried to argue, insisting that God would understand, that this relationship wasn’t sustainable and He, in all His omnibenevolence, would forgive her. She had not listened and she’d died because of it.

Now, Heather was back at the house that had killed everything she valued, with the murderer waiting in its centre to kill again.

James had dropped her off like he did most mornings, however, she had left with a tension that remained in her bones even now he was gone. Her stomach was churning as she made her way up the porch steps - memories of him so close, searing and melting her skin off as he comforted her, a look at his lips, leaning in close only to be met with rejection. The embarrassment curled around her throat and choked her until her eyes bulged out of her head. It consumed her as she fumbled around for her keys, fingers shaking as she passed over the one she used to unlock Brittany’s door and tears slipping from her eyes as she pushed her own into the lock.

How very foolish she had been - to believe that all the kindness he had shown her, the comfort he had given her had been anything more than what it was. Kindness and comfort: the works of decency and human morality which she had misconstrued as something other than that. No one had ever been decent with her without some ulterior motive.

There was a shake to her hands as she pushed open the door, a shake that had overtaken her body when she was sitting in her passenger seat, the subject of her tremors driving silently next to her. It grew worse now as her nose tickled with the scent of strong alcohol, cigarettes and body odour.

The sight of her dad passed out on the couch, Stu on the floor next to him had a sob escaping her throat. She didn’t have the energy to deal with them, didn’t have the strength to look at the sight of the living room she had left clean, now returned to its previous state. She had hoped he would not be home when she came back, had prayed that she’d have the house to herself - an open space to scream until her throat gave up.

Instead, she had not been granted reprieve. The living room was littered with empty beer cans, a bottle of Jim Beam thrown carelessly to the side and spilling out onto the floor, cigarette butts in every corner and two unwashed men invading her space. The pillows from the couch had been flung onto the floor, chip packets next to them and the sun danced over the scene - illuminating it. Shoving it in her face that she could never have what she wanted.

Throwing her bag down onto her armchair, wiping away the stray tears running down her cheeks, she carried on with the job she had found herself working years before she had been employed. Heather advanced to the two of them, crossing the threshold where her peace turned to chaos and averted her attention first to the man occupying the floor.

“Stu.” She gently knelt next to him, screwing her nose up at the sight of his unconscious form, the snores emitting from his open mouth and the line of dried drool crusting on one side of his face. Gently nudging him, she called his name again. “Stu.”

He didn’t stir and her frustration was increasing.

“Stu.” Her voice cracked as it got louder and her patience was wearing thin. “Stu, get the fuck up.” She shoved him harshly, him rolling onto his back due to her austerity. After a few more attempts, he grunted, mouth snapping shut and sniffing harshly.

“Stu.” His eyes peeled open, squinting at the light shining through the closed curtains that never seemed to be open nowadays.

“Shit…” He hissed out, rubbing at his forehead with one hand, the other comforting his stomach. She didn’t have the time for this. She really fucking didn’t. She had to get herself dressed, showered, food in her system like James had requested, and then get down to the hospital to see if they’d finally let her see Brittany (She had decided to do that against James’ request). Angry tears fell as she hovered over her neighbour. She daredn’t even look at her father - the man currently dancing in her peripheral - in fear that her bout of annoyance would turn into a breakdown.

“C’mon, you gotta go home.” She swallowed away the lump in her throat, trying to push it down to her stomach.

“Heather?” His confusion was not appeasing her vexation, the lack of haste he was displaying caused a surge of rage to overpower her.

“Yeah, it’s me now get the fuck out.” There was no time to be kind and understanding, to lower her voice to accommodate his obvious hangover. She just wanted him out. Gone.

“God, little girl, give a man a minute.” Little girl. He was making a fucking mockery of her; she wanted to throttle him and leave two bruises on each eye.

“No, get out.” Stu sent her a disgruntled look, managing to sit up and wincing at the aching of his body. Heather took great pleasure in it. He had come into her house, staining it with his fucking alcohol and his fucking drugs. The hatred she harboured for him in the moment would have her praying for forgiveness later on.

“Jesus Christ, Heather, give me a fuckin’ minute.” He seemed pained by the volume of his own voice, looking to the coffee table to grab a half-empty beer bottle. Heather followed his eyeline, gazing at the mess they’d created. Cans and bottles, cigarette butts and remnants of white powder that had her heart sinking.

She didn’t have time to calm herself down, the anger unstoppable as it curled over her skin and latched on tight, digging into her and injecting into her veins. It was everywhere, pushing her to the edge of the cliff and taunting her until she eventually jumped off.

“Stu, I swear if you don’t get the fuck out…” She was surprised by the authoritarianism in her tone, the meekness she usually had diminished. She sounded like her dad.

“What the fuck is up your ass-.”

“Get out.” The volume of her voice had Robert stirring and all at once, her wrath simmered away and scampered back to its cave.

“Fine! I’m goin’.” She didn’t hear Stu, only taking a few steps back as he stood and started gathering his things. All her attention was focused on the man on the couch who had rolled over, eyes fluttering and threatening to snap open.

Fear had encapsulated her in a tight grip, sending an icy chill through her bones as she carefully waited for him to wake.

“Fuckin’ bitch.” Stu was muttering under his breath, sluggishly stuffing a plastic bag into his pants pocket and taking his time doing as demanded of him.

Heather couldn’t care.

His eyes had peeled open.

“The fuck is goin’ on?”

She wanted to run but where would she go? She had already taken so much of James, using his kindness to her advantage in a desperate bid for a relationship with the only man she had ever trusted in this lifetime. She could not go to him. Brittany was unstable and in the hospital because of Heather’s carelessness and lack of awareness. She could not go to Brittany. Her mother was dead and so very far away. She could not go to Andrea.

“I’m getting fuckin’ ushered out o’ here.” Stu was quick to defend himself; no room for Heather to reason.

“Tell her to fuck off.” Robert waved a hand, rolling over so he was facing the back of the couch and closing his eyes again.

Relief flooded through her, the dam breaking and sending forth a tidal wave of consolation.

Stu, deeming her father’s request too harsh, gave her an unfriendly goodbye and took many unnecessary steps before slamming the door behind him.

There was quiet. Then he began to snore and Heather started to cry.

Why was she so afraid of him? Why did he have to defeat her with every word? Break down her heavily guarded fort with shells and shells of ammunition raining down upon her. As a child, when she would find him passed out, she would cry because she thought he was dead. Then, he’d let out a snore or a grunt or his body would twitch and her eyes would dry up; all she wanted to do was make him more comfortable. So, she’d pull a blanket over him, shimmy off his boots and, depending on where he had passed out, would curl into him, holding him tight and pretending that he was holding her back.

Then, she got older. She became more aware. She didn’t even want to touch him when she understood that he wasn’t the man she had envisioned him to be previously. He was not her saviour. He was mean, and ugly and cruel. To the core.

“Why do you do this to me?” She whispered, knowing that her words would not reach his brain and be transformed into anger; the knowledge helped her speak more clearly. “Why do you do it to everyone?”

The words only flowed freely when she knew he couldn’t hear. After her mom had died, she’d spoken to him every time he was asleep, cursing him and crying and then praying that in the morning, he’d hold her and they’d go out together and do something they both enjoyed. A normal relationship.

“I just want you to be normal.” Her voice cracked with the confession, tears she did not feel sliding over her skin and leaving streaks of mascara in its wake. She had cried so much today; she’d grown numb to the feeling. “I just want you to treat me like a daughter.”

Her mind briefly flicked to James who had been more of a father in the month he’d known her, than Robert Palmer had been his whole life. It was pathetic - pernicious that she couldn’t even call her own father after her friend had had an overdose. James wasn’t supposed to be the man comforting her; he was not supposed to be the man to father her.

“I miss you.” Heather wasn’t sure what exactly she missed. He wasn’t gone and he hadn’t changed since she was a kid but there was a strange sense of longing for him that never went away.

She sniffled, blinking violently and brushing the tears off her cheeks. It was pathetic. This was pathetic. Brittany was waiting for her at the hospital. James had asked her to call as soon as she got home and she did not want to disappoint him like she disappointed her dad. She did not want to hurry the inevitable break of their relationship when she fucked up and he left.

So, with bleary eyes and a head that ached, she turned away from the last root of the family tree, cut it down with an axe and retired to her room.

She needed to call James, to hear his soothing voice bring her down from the ledge.

The door clicked behind her and she threw her bag onto the bed, zipping it open to find her phone. A wave of nausea passed over at the intense memories of hours prior that scratched her mind. James could soothe it. He always did. A month and she was dependent. It was something she tried not to think about too much as she unlocked her phone and found his contact with ease.

It rang once…twice…three times…what if he didn’t pick up? A fourth…

“Kid.”

Sensitive to just the sound of him, her throat closed up and when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out.

“Kid?” His tone became more questioning when she didn’t reply but she found she couldn’t say anything. If she tried, the words would come out in a mangled cry. “You there?”

At her continued silence, he tried the other option.

“Angel?” Her entire being opened up at the word, her mind releasing its hold on her speech and letting it run free with a cry. “Heather, what’s wrong?” He sounded alarmed at her sudden noise, tears slipping freely as she tried to sniffle them away.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to get out through the cracks in her voice. “I don’t-.” Heather plaintively couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Calm down.” He instructed, plucking at the strings of her and dragging her to the ground. “Deep breaths.” She did as he asked, even in her distressed state unwilling to disappoint him. “There you go.” He praised her compliance, the sound of her breathing passing through the phone - the sound of his voice passing through her. “What’s wrong, Angel?”

“I don’t- I can’t-.” She hated the display of weakness. Every time she cried in front of him, the shame overtook her body and she promised herself she would never break down her carefully built walls in front of him again. Each time, she broke her covenant.

“You wanna come over?” The question was simple - to the point. It was an attempt to allay her anguish. It only made her cry more, hands gripping onto the fabric of her dress and nodding her head like he could see her.

“Please.”

She heard shuffling on the other end, the jangle of keys as he spoke.

“If you pack a bag you can stay over, yeah?” Wiping at her face, she tried to cease the flow of tears. He wants you there. She tried to reason with her doubts, the thoughts swirling in her mind that he had invited her because he felt he had to. He has never treated you like an inconvenience.

But you are an inconvenience.

“Are you-.” She cut herself off as she swallowed away the whining tone the tears had created. “Are you sure?”

“I’m already out the door.” As if in confirmation, there was an unmistakable slamming and the sound of his steps on the driveway.

She paused a moment before replying, thinking and contemplating what she would do next.

You are not an inconvenience.

“Yeah…yeah, okay. Thank you.”

“Not a problem.”

There was a moment of pause, a shaking silence where only their breaths entered the space and the distant unlocking of a car from his end of the phone. She wanted to say more, to maybe talk about what she had done earlier. How sorry she was. The things she would do to take it back. He spoke before she could find the strength.

“I’ll see you soon then.”

With a cough, she replied with a singular syllable, a word of agreement to let him know she was not being ignorant. She just couldn’t think of any better words - could barely even think of a sentence.

“Stay strong, Angel,” was his closing phrase. Another pained “yeah” slipped from her lips before he put the phone down and she finally managed to stop crying.

13:07

In his house, time seemed to have slipped away quicker than it ever did. The car journey had been relatively quiet although peaceful and she’d managed to get a little sleep on the journey - drifting in and out of blissful inertia. His presence pardoned her of her anxiety and sated her need for quiet and calm. Then, he’d softly waken her when he pulled into the driveway, carrying her bag inside and parking it in the hallway. His house was no less impressive than last time. Tall ceilings, hardwood floor, clean, new and although sparsely decorated, felt like home.

Heather had only seen the kitchen and living room when she had been round last but the upstairs opened a whole new level of opulence and grandeur to the home and, if James wasn’t James, she would have deemed the entire house ostentatious and avaricious. There were four bedrooms and four bathrooms, two of them upstairs, and two of them downstairs and she wasn’t sure whether she had ever indulged in this amount of luxury in her life.

James had let her take her pick of the three out of four bedrooms that weren’t occupied and then let her use the bathroom at the end of the hall.

“If you wanna use the shower you can.” He’d offered, showing her the way and teaching her how to turn it on. “I don’t have…” he’d trailed off whilst rifling through relatively empty storage boxes. “...any extra soap…you got your own?”

She hadn’t thought that far ahead when she’d packed, only focused on the fact she was staying over at his, picking out her best pyjamas and then spending the majority of her time fixing herself up in the mirror.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Well, kid, you can use mine if you want but then you’d end up smelling like me.”

She’d laughed, not thinking before she spoke.

“That wouldn’t be so bad.”

His smile had fallen, his jaw ticking and he’d stared at her with dark eyes for far longer than necessary before coughing and turning away.

“I’ll go get it for you.” He’d hastily left the bathroom and she’d felt the acid in her stomach turn cold.

Returning with a smile on his face, he handed over seemingly everything he had in his shower, telling her to “have at it” before closing the door and leaving her to her own devices.

The shower had been nothing short of blissful, the pressure far from the crappy spurt of water that emitted from her own and when she’d finally started to wash her hair with his shampoo and his conditioner (that he claimed he didn’t use but was already half-empty) and his soap, it felt like he was consuming her. It smelt of him throughout the whole bathroom, getting her high off the fumes of him, so much so, that it didn’t seem like a bad idea to go downstairs and bury herself in his chest again.

She put the thought on hold when she was finally finished, wrapping herself up in the towel he had left for her and padding along the hall to “her room.” Being in his house, using his shower, and dressing in his bedroom made her more comfortable than she had been in a while. It was like bathing in the sun, feeling her bare feet underneath the grass, swimming naked in the ocean when the sun was beginning to set and there was no one else on the beach. It felt like all the good things in life and she would never betray her old porch but James was strong competition and slowly moving up in favour until he reached heaven and she went with him.

“Was that shower up to your standards, Miss Palmer?” He asked as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. Her hair was still wet, making the fabric of her shirt damp, some dripping onto her shorts.

“It was really good, thank you.” There was a brief moment where his eyes flickered over the length of her body, taking in the sight of her, lingering on her legs and then fixing themselves back on her face.

“Good.” He turned away from her, gathering a glass from the cupboard and asking if she wanted a drink.

“Yes please.” She responded, awkwardly standing in the centre of the kitchen. There seemed to be a trend in her behaviour around him as it was the exact same spot she had gawkily stood last time. Noticing her uncertainty, he smiled and eased her discomfort.

“Sit down if you want.” He picked up his cigar from where it rested in the ashtray, casually holding it between his teeth as he pulled the fridge open. Watching him intently, she slid onto the barstool at the end of the island, the leather cold on her bare legs.“Still got plenty of your coke.” He pulled a silver can from the top shelf, cracking it open and pouring it into the glass. Taking a few puffs, he placed the cigar back down and slid the drink over to where she sat. “You can take some home with you if you want. I don’t drink it.”

The first sip was heaven. She hadn’t had a drink all day and it was starting to show through the dull aching in her head.

“If you don’t mind.”

Shaking his head, he picked the cigar back up and leaned against the counter, crossing his legs over one another and resting his unused hand on the surface.

“Not at all.”

Calm imbued the space, the afternoon sun shining in a straight line through the kitchen window and lighting the room with a hearty glow. She felt like a cat as she basked in the heat, cracking her neck as the fatigue began to set in.

“If you wanna put your work uniform in with the laundry, I’ll wash it for you.” He said suddenly, smirking at her as she yawned.

“That’s okay, I need it for tonight.”

There was a brief pause, James stopping mid-puff to raise his eyebrows at her.

“You’re goin’ in tonight?”

Heather shrugged, sipping on her drink and then setting it back down on the counter.

“I have to.”

There was not a moment where she had considered calling in and telling a mildly depressed Hal that she couldn’t work tonight. Knowing him, she’d lose her job or he’d close for the night and then blame her when they didn’t make any profit at the end of the week. And she needed the job. She needed the money.

“You sure you can’t just call in?” There was concern all over his face, brows knitted in confusion and eyes filled with worry. “Sweetheart, you’ve had a long day.”

“But…” She sighed, trying to dispute him but found she couldn’t deny the look in his eyes. “I need the money.” Her voice was quiet as she spoke, just above a whisper. There was something embarrassing about her confession. Being in his house, seeing how he lived his life: the cigars that were far from cheap, the clothes that were casual but high in quality. It was the same embarrassment she felt when he’d first come to her house, all those weeks ago, and she’d felt it everywhere. She felt it now, growing stronger and getting to its precipice. The speed at which it was expanding quickened now she’d found herself in this situation.

“You know if you need anything I can always-.”

“Please.” She cut him off quickly, swallowing down her perturbation at her rudeness. “I don’t want-.” Collecting herself with a sip of her drink, the bubbles churning in her empty stomach, she found the words she was looking for. “I appreciate…everything you do for me. You’ve been kinder than most people I’ve known but I can’t…” She shook her head to elucidate her point. “I can’t accept money, James.”

He studiously puffed on his cigar, nodding slightly before clicking his tongue and smiling her way.

“That’s fine. I get it, kid.”

Kid. Every time he said it, she physically had to restrain her mouth from speaking out against it. It was the one thing she didn’t like about him - the overuse of the nickname. Every other sentence, he’d add a ‘kid’ at the end, as if intentionally driving the point home she was not on his level. However, much she wanted to, she could not have him. Then, he’d call her ‘Angel’ and there was hope still, bright as the sun in high afternoon and glowing with prosperity and promise. But just as quick as optimism was given, it was slandered by his pessimistic use of the word: kid.

Usually, she was able to stop herself from saying something, letting it glide past and run over her shoulder. For some reason, however, today, it was extremely hard to disregard. Perhaps, it had been the environment she was in - so invitingly open and congenial that it had cured her of consternation. Maybe she was just tired of feeling so confused and refused to be stuck in that state anymore. Either way, with a large gulp of Coke, she was going to get answers.

“Can you…” For a brief moment, she lost all of her resolution. But he’d looked at her, so understanding, clearly listening to her and she couldn’t deny her own desires. “Can you stop calling me kid?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, his eyes flickering with imperceptible emotion as his eyebrows pricked upward and he crossed his arms over his chest - cigar discarded.

“If…if you want.”

“It’s just, I’m not-.” She had to take her eyes off him, his hard stare shooting her clean in the head and causing the receptors in her brain to become unusable. “I’m not a kid. And I don’t want you to…think of me, as a kid.” Her words trailed off, the confession lingering on her tongue and leaving an acidic tang in the back of her throat. Her stomach was performing all manner of tricks, churning in protest to her apprehension.

“I don’t.” The words had her eyes back on his as she pushed a strand of wet hair from her line of sight and gnawed on her bottom lip, her silence an invitation for him to continue. “I don’t see you as a kid at all.”

She forgot what it felt like to breathe, losing every sense of normal bodily functions as she kept her eyes firmly on him.

“You don’t?” He shook his head, briefly averting his gaze to his shoes before bringing them back to her. The blue of his eyes was lighter than ever, staring at her with conviction and something else that, in her state, she couldn’t decipher.

“No.”

No. It echoed in her head, the implication behind the word rendering her immobile and stuck in her seat. No. A two-letter word capable of stopping her heart. She thought maybe she died when he uttered it but it was a false conclusion as she knew she had genuinely ascended when he started walking towards her. He stopped maybe a metre away, close enough that she had to look up at him to catch his eyes.

“Then-,” Her throat was dry and she tried lubricating it with a harsh, painful swallow. “Then what- what is…”

James was shaking his head, already knowing the question and already giving her the answer she didn’t want.

“Heather, you know I can’t.”

“But I want to.” She was going to fight for it. He had given her the opening to challenge his resistance and she would not make the same mistake she made in the parking lot - a thoughtless move that she couldn’t defend. Instead, she’d fight until he was knocked out clean and she had won the match.

“It’s wrong.” He seemed to be a worthy competitor, his assurance rivalling her own except something made him just a little weaker than she was.

“Why?”

“You’re a kid-.”

“I am not.” Each word was punctuated by the volume of her voice, the harshness of her stare and the sheer confidence with which she spoke.

He seemed to understand his mistake, looking to the ceiling with a painful-looking clench of his jaw and taking a deep breath.

“You’re right, you’re not,” he conciliated, bringing his eyes back to hers. Blue to brown. “But you’re young.” “What difference does that make?” She was beginning to grow agitated, tempestuously slipping from her seat and standing in front of him. With trembling hands, she reached up to grip his shirt, fists curling into the fabric and tugging ever so lightly.

“Heather…” He’s visibly conflicted, eyes pulling away from her as he groans out her name but body pulling her in - seeking her.

“Please.” She tugged committedly, begging him with her actions to look at her, listen to her, understand that this is what she wanted. It was all she had ever wanted. Since she was a girl and she’d watched the Hollywood perception of love, gazing longingly at the TV screen and waiting years for someone to come and sweep her away and protect her from the unforgivingness of the world. “I want this.”

Her voice was growing whiny with need, biting on her lip to stop it quivering when he looked at her.

“You’ve got a lot of life to live.” He gripped onto her shoulders, stooping down so they were on the same level. The proximity of his face to hers had her breath hitching in anticipation, licking her lips as she involuntarily looked at his. “I’m not what you need.”

“You are.” She scowled at him, wanting to push him away but finding his warmth too pleasant to repudiate. “I don’t have-.” There was a crack to her voice that only added to her piqued behaviour, scoffing as she held his shirt tight enough to crease it. “I don’t have anyone like you. I’ve never had anyone like you! And I don’t want you to not do something because you think you know what I need better than I do!”

The expression on his face was one of surprise, his grip loosening and hers tightening simultaneously.

“It’s not right.” It was like a lion hunting a rabbit, James’ voice diminished to nothing, their roles switching as he found he had nothing else to say. He could not argue with her and Heather took the victory as an opportunity, nudging her face closer to his, feeling his breath on her skin as his hands slid down from her shoulders to her back.

“It’s not wrong either.” He could not challenge that statement as his hands migrated to her waist, eyes flicking to her lips. Experimentally, she leaned in, the movement much more calculated than her messy attempt before, their breath mingling as their noses brushed.

“Heather…” She gave him no time to protest as she leant forward a few more inches, one hand sliding up to his neck and, just like that, she was kissing him.

The coarse hair of his moustache tickled her lip, a sensation not unwelcome as she slanted her mouth over his and pulled him down with a tug on his neck. There was a moment where he stayed still, hands unmoving on her body, lips motionless and then something snapped and just as she was about to pull away, he kissed her with such harshness that all the air in her lungs was removed and she was gasping into his mouth in search of oxygen.

Heather’s hands clawed at his neck, his gripping onto her waist and moving up and down, thumbs tracing her ribs and lips moving in tandem. There’s a grunt from low in his throat and the sound goes right through her, shooting down her spine and having her kissing back desperately, hands tugging at his hair and rolling up onto her tiptoes to accommodate his size. She presses her whole body flush against his, chest to chest, and that's when she feels it, the length of him pressing into her, subtly hard and inviting. It wakes up something inside her she didn’t know existed, her mewl earning his rough palms to slip under her shirt, feeling the skin of her waist and she forgets, for a moment, how to breathe.

His hands are on her, exploring and teasing and she can feel nothing but his lips, kissing her with a ferocity and passion she had not experienced in her lifetime. There was another groan from low in his throat when she bucked her hips into his, seeking friction from the unmistakable ache between her legs and he granted her some relief when he let go of her waist and grabbed a fistful of her ass, pulling her so tight that she did, genuinely, stop breathing.

Then, there was a buzz of a phone, vibrating and moving along the counter and he stopped. It dowsed her in ice water - drenching her in cold.

Heather can only stand there, chest heaving when he pulls away and steps so far back from her that her heart drops all the way to her feet. His face is twisted in guilt and desire; a permanent state of conflict.

“I’m sorry.” He says after a moment and turns away to pick up the phone. “I gotta take this.”

She takes a step towards him in a desperate bid for him back, but he’s already striding to the patio doors, pushing them open and disappearing into the garden.

⋆ ★

A/N: i have nothing to say. i will let you speak for me.

alana.

#james hetfield #metallica #barefoot #THIS WAS-#ALANA I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU DO THIS #BUT I THINK I'M SPEAKING ON BEHALF OF ALL OF US #WHEN I SAY THAT #YOU ALWAYS MANAGE TO TAKE OUR BREATHS AWAY #YOU'RE ILLEGALLY TALENTED #BYE

118 notes · View notes