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aplaceforyourhearttorest · 4 months

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Unwind Me ⋅☆⋅ Kirk Hammett (18+)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⭒

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Unwind me, then."

⭒

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy New Years, indeed.

#metallica #kirk hammett #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett smut #metallica smut #metallica imagines #metallica x reader #james hetfield #jason newsted #lars ulrich

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justlike-awoman · 4 months

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Queen's chief road manager & FOH sound mixer John Harris's interview in the Roadies Page -segment of Beat Instrumental, December 1974 issue (article scanned & edited by me)

This interview with John Harris in 1974 gives very fascinating insights into the technical side of touring with Queen, including managing & transportation of the equipment, and balancing the books!

Beat Instrumental was a UK monthly pop and rock magazine aimed at musicians emphasising instruments, production and equipment.

Full transcript under the cut:

Roadies Page-

QUEEN'S John Harris (and team)

QUEEN ARE going the same way as Yes. That's not to suggest there are any musical similarities, rather the band believe in working for the future.

As soon as Yes started to earn decent money, they ploughed it all back into improving their act and giving better value for money in the hope that the public would respond. Respond they did and the investment paid huge dividends, as everybody knows.

Queen are doing the same thing. And that gives John Harris and his team quite a few problems. John is Queen's chief road manager. He's been with the band from the very beginning when they were called Smile and when the band went pro, he cast aside his college training and left his future in their hands. He's not regretting that.

John's team is a continually expanding and contracting one. His assistant is Robert Johnstone who joined the band in Scotland about nine months ago. Then there's a lighting crew (including someone to mix the lights) and truckers to do what roadies used to do a few years ago.

'The main problem is the worry,' admits John. 'It's such a great responsibility getting this lot of stuff around.’

We were talking at a full rehearsal of the band, held in a disused cinema in Ealing, West London, shortly before the band undertook their UK tour. In addition to the vast piles of source amplification, there was a massive RSE PA system, three mixers (one for fold-back mix), on-stage lighting towers, a massive mobile overhead gantry for lighting (very new), a number of high-power spotlights and a mixing desk for lighting. These are the basic units.

On stage the band's equipment is as follows. For bass there is a mixture of Hiwatt and Acoustic amplification delivering about 300 watts into a mixture of Sound City and Acoustic cabinets. Brian May insists on using Vox AC30s. He uses six of them for lead guitar. His initial guitar signal is amplified by two AC30s, the output is miked up and fed to the PA. The signal is also fed into an Echoplex and that output is, in turn, fed into two more AC30s. That output is miked up and fed to the mixer and it is also taken to a second Echoplex which is fed to the last pair of AC30s. That output is also miked and sent to the mixer.

ORIGINAL

'Brian's a real AC30 freak.' explains John. 'Most of his amps are original but we're trying out some of the new AC30s on the market and he says he likes them.' The piano is miked by a contact mike and amplified via a Hiwatt system which delivers through two Peavey cabinets. The drums are amplified via ten mikes.

Most of the microphones are AKGs with D190, D1200 and 202 models predominating.

One of John's most important tasks is the sound mixing. Because he's been with the band so long he understands exactly the mix required for their music.

'I think the most important requirement for a sound engineer on live gigs, is an understanding of the band's music. If you understand exactly what the band is trying to do in each section you're in a far better position to get the sound just right.’

John has to deal with two mixers. Both are supplied by RSE from whom the entire PA system is hired. One is a 20-channel mixer which mixes vocal and instrument mikes together and the other is a fifteen-channel unit used just for drums. The effects units are Binson and Echoplex echo chambers and the system has an output around 23KW.

The fold-back is also mixed separately, but the band adjust that from the stage. The massive lighting system that the band carry is hired from ESP.

Going on tour for Queen is a mighty expensive operation with this kind of set up. To get it all around the band hire a 32-ton artic, that costs over £500 per week (including driver). The hire bill for the PA and lighting equipment (including crews) is over £2,000 a week and during the time the band are rehearsing the cinema costs £150 a week. In addition there's the back line and that costs about £5,000.

All this is John's responsibility.

'I suppose I spend two hours each day working out the figures.

It really takes some organising making sure that the budget is properly spent. It must be said that Queen don't make anything out of touring, there's just no money in it. It's all to promote the records.

'I don't think tour rigs can really get any bigger or any more expensive. I think we've reached the end.’

#'I don't think tour rigs can really get any bigger or any more expensive. I think we've reached the end' - in hindsight this is so endearing #Queen just kept expanding their rigs against all odds!! it just kept growing and never stopped!#queen #queen band #john harris #brian may #robert johnson #classic rock #research #my scans #my stuff #my posts

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