#dave mustaine x oc
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
dave mustaine x nore burton (oc) | word count: 1514
✦ on this fic: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff burton's cousin, +18, language, romance, mxf sex, period sex (in the shower), unprotected sex, blood mention, period pains
✦ a/n: this is just Dave showering Nore with affection because I missed writing about these two in a happier setting. From my Heartbreaker fanfic. This is set somewhere between parts 16 and 17. Hope you enjoy the read ❤
I could tell right off the bat that something wasn't right when I cracked open my eyes.
For starters, it was way too dark for morning. A dull, gray light sneaked through the curtains, barely lighting up the room. Just enough for me to make out the shape of the living room door. I rolled over with a groan, and that's when it hit me: a stabbing pain in my gut, and a warm, sticky feeling between my legs.
"Oh, crap," I moaned, burying my face in the pillow as a sharp pain shot from my gut down to my legs, making me curl up tighter. As much as I wanted to cocoon myself in blankets, I knew I had to get up if I wanted any relief. With a heavy sigh, I dragged myself out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and trudging to the bathroom.
Flicking on the light, I shut the door behind me, letting out a frustrated groan when I spotted the bloodstain seeping through my underwear. I plopped down on the toilet, wincing as another wave of pain hit me. I knew a hot shower and some meds would help, but right now, I could barely move, my eyes drooping with exhaustion as the pain pulsed through me.
I jumped when I heard a knock on the door.
"Nore? You alright?" Dave's voice floated through, followed by a big yawn.
"I'm good," I mumbled, but my voice sounded weaker than I'd hoped. "Sorry for waking you."
"You sure you're okay?" His concern was palpable, snapping him awake instantly.
"Yeah, it's just... Ow," I winced as another contraction hit hard. That seemed to do it for Dave; he swung the door open and barged in, eyes wide as he scanned the bathroom. I flushed with embarrassment. "Dave!"
"Oh," he whispered, catching on as he saw me doubled over in pain on the toilet, my clothes in a messy heap on the floor, stained with blood. "I'm sorry, babe. You sounded like you were really hurting."
"I am hurting. But you didn't have to bust in here," I muttered, my face still red hot in embarrassment. He let out a soft chuckle.
"Have you taken anything for it? Want me to grab you some clean PJs? And socks, to warm your feet. You said that helps with cramps, right?" he asked, instantly slipping into caretaker mode, which made me smile.
"I'd rather you let me clean up and hit the shower first. But yeah, fresh PJs and painkillers would be great."
"Got it. I'll be quick. Don't move," he instructed, ducking out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. I let out a soft chuckle. Like I could go anywhere in this state. With a sigh, I got myself up, flushed the toilet, and stepped into the shower.
I leaned back, soaking up the steamy water as it washed over me, easing some of the pain pulsing from my belly. A shower, some meds, fresh clothes, and back to bed, preferably snuggled up with my boyfriend. Seemed like the perfect game plan for that early morning.
I cracked an eye open when I heard Dave tiptoeing back in.
"Brought you clean PJs, pain pills, and your towel," he announced, poking his head into the shower. I smiled softly, thankfully. "Want me to hop in?" he offered.
"What, you wanna join me?" I raised an eyebrow, and he shot back a cheeky grin. Without a word, he stripped down, and I couldn't help but giggle as he pulled me close, peppering my face with kisses – on my lips, my cheeks, my forehead.
"You know what I heard? Orgasms supposedly help with cramps," he whispered in my ear, and I could feel my cheeks heating up.
"Dave, I'm..." I started, but my words trailed off into a sigh as his fingers found their way to my clit. "D-Dave, I'm bleeding, we're gonna make a mess..."
"It's all good if we’re in the shower, right?" he countered, his voice low and husky, his breath warm against my neck. I let out a soft moan as he began to circle my clit, his other hand holding onto my lower back, pulling me closer as I tangled my fingers in his hair. His lips pressed against the sensitive skin of my neck, a slow and deliberate kiss that sent shivers down my spine. "Let me take care of you, babe…”
"Dave..." I breathed out, not in protest this time, but in pure pleasure as I surrendered to the warmth of his touch. The heat from the water and his body was soothing, mingling with the tension building in my abdomen as he traced slow circles around my clit. A moan escaped me as I felt a slow contraction, but this time it wasn't from pain; my breath hitched as his lips descended to my breasts, taking one of my nipples between his lips, teasing me with his slow movements. I let out a surprised gasp as he lifted one of my legs, pulling me closer as he entered me slowly. "Dave, I'm… I’m too sensitive today..."
"I'll take it slow," he whispered, and I let out a low moan as he drew me in closer, fully inside me, filling me up in a way that made me clench around him. He groaned softly, his lips meeting mine as he started to move with a gentle rhythm, his tongue exploring my mouth lazily. I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting out soft moans. "I just wanna make you feel good," he murmured against my lips, and I gasped as he pushed back in slowly. "Wanna make you cum for me."
"Oh, Dave..." I moaned, nuzzling into his neck. He grunted, holding me against the wall and lifting my other leg, wrapping it around his hip, pulling me closer, pushing deeper into me. I gripped his back, the pain ebbing away as pleasure took over, coiling tighter and tighter in my belly, my body begging for more. "Dave, please..."
"Hmm?" he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips as he started to move again, drawing out another soft moan from me. "What do you need?"
"Please... Oh, harder..." I begged, and he chuckled softly, a hint of breathlessness in his voice.
"Are you sure it won't make the pain worse?" he husked, his voice thick with desire, and I nodded. "If it's too much, you gotta tell me, okay?"
"Okay... Oh, fuck!" I gasped as he pushed harder, picking up the pace, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. He chuckled softly, letting out a groan as he held me close. "Dave, I'm... I'm almost there..."
"I feel it. You're so tight..." he groaned, clutching me tighter, his words igniting small sparks inside my belly. "Fuck, Nore, you're perfect, you’re so wet, oh, shit..." I could tell he was close too, his movements growing more urgent as incoherent praises left his lips.
I moaned as he reached down to touch my clit, sending shivers down my spine. He grunted, intensifying his thrusts, and I held onto him, my eyes shut tight as pleasure surged through me. Dave squeezed me close as my climax hit, and he groaned as he reached his own peak.
Breathing heavily, I leaned against him as he set me down, blushing at the sight of the mess between us, a mix of blood and fluids.
"Oh, no," I muttered, cheeks burning. "Dave, I’m sorry..."
"Sorry? You just made me cum and now you're saying sorry?" he replied, sounding amused, and I chuckled, shaking my head.
"I meant for the mess," I clarified, and Dave laughed.
"Babe, we make messes every time we fuck, period or not. It's just blood. C'mere, I'll help you clean up."
After our shower, I got dressed, grateful for the fresh clothes, and popped one of the painkillers Dave brought, even though the cramps had eased a lot. Turns out, orgasms really did work wonders for period pains.
Snuggling under the blanket, I sighed happily as we lay down. Dave pulled me close, and I nestled my head on his chest.
"Feeling any better?" he whispered, running his fingers through my hair.
"Yeah, I am. Thanks, Dave," I mumbled, yawning. The room was getting brighter with the sunlight, but it was still too early to think about anything other than getting some more sleep in our comfy bed. Dave planted a soft kiss on my forehead.
"When we wake up, I'll whip up some hot chocolate for you. How's that sound?" he offered, and I let out a soft chuckle.
"You're spoiling me," I murmured, and he laughed.
"Of course I am. You're my everything," he replied, and I smiled, feeling sleep pulling me under. He held me close, his breath warm against my neck. "Love you, Nore."
"Hmm... Love you too," I whispered, feeling myself drift off.
I sighed happily, letting Dave's arms wrap around me as I surrendered to sleep, feeling safe and warm, knowing that happiness was right there: with him.
✧ if you'd like to be tagged, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 (tagged everyone from the regular story tag list for this extra content. hope you guys don't mind!)
#it's the way dave instantly barges into the bathroom as soon as he realizes nore's in pain 😭#i'm in a dave mood lately i needed to get this out of my system#waaaahhhh#ada writes fanfiction#heartbreaker fanfic#dave mustaine x oc#dave mustaine fanfiction#nore burton (oc)#megadeth x reader#dave mustaine x reader#megadeth smut#dave mustaine smut#megadeth fanfiction#megadeth x you#dave mustaine x you
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ok!!! big news
i started that james hetfield x oc au thingy (yeah, it’s x my oc now instead of x reader… sorry lol) and it’s on wattpad, i only published the prologue and some info abt it, i’m not sure what my update schedule looks like yet but i’ll keep y’all posted (i promise this time)
my wattpad is @catcheshire123 (graziella)
and the story is titled If It Keeps On Raining (which is in fact a head nod to the zeppelin song, When the Levee Breaks)
(unrelated: i have lots of wips of asks in my drafts rn, i’m gonna post a lot soon i just dk when, i’m a bit of a mess rn hehe)
ok bye bye babes! enjoy!!
#grazilla’s thoughts#metallica#80s music#80s metal#metallica au#metallica fanfiction#dave mustaine#james hetfield#james hetfield x oc#dave mustaine x oc#wattpad#new chapter#coming soon
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Full Name: Juliet Manon Mustaine (nee McNeil)
DOB: July 23rd 1964
Age: 58 years old
Instagram: @julietmustaine
Parents: Russell and Claire McNeil
Siblings: Annabelle and Remy
S/O: David Mustaine
Married: May 18th 1991 (27 years old)
Hometown: New Orleans, Louisiana
Nicknames: Julie, Jules
Best Friend(s): Mary MacDonald
Job: Model
Personality Traits: Outdoorsy, Modern, Sweet, and Mindful
Children:
Kaia Honour Mustaine (20, 1984)
Ashton Ledger Mustaine (23, 1987)
Jordyn Ross & Kayden Gabriel Mustaine (28, 1992)
Everly Lucy Mustaine (36, 2000)
Appearance:
- Blonde Hair
- Green Eyes
- Typical 80s/90s model figure
- Doe eyes and Sharp jawline
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In my hour of need
I wrote my first Dave Mustaine fanfic, obviously isn't accurate, it's '84 Dave, Megadeth is getting their feet off the ground.
Synopsis: Dave Mustane x Femboy!OC, OC is a beautiful boy who likes to wear feminine clothing and had a doomed date tonight. The rain introduced him to Dave.
Warnings: MDNI! 18+, P IN A sex, anal sex, blow job (Dave receiving), top!Dave, dom!Dave, bottom!OC, femboy!OC, subby!OC, daddy kink, misuse of pronouns, mentions of being in the closet, mxm, choking (sexually)
Why did I ever agree to meet my date at the restaurant? Why couldn't he be a perfect gentleman and pick me up? That's a bad sign right, or am I overreacting?
He seems nice, he wears an Armani suit, is an attorney for some actor, and the date tonight is going to be at Lawry's. Most likely he's a married closet case who has a thing for young crossdressers like myself, but hey why not give the man a chance? That's what my roommate tells me. I'm too picky apparently, and Avery, my drag queen roommate, convinced me that boys who are way too pretty and wear makeup and Chanel knock off slingbacks rarely end up with a fairytale ending, Mr. Right might be married with a couple of kids, but it's worth giving him a shot.
Words: 4,286
So I gave myself a homemade facial courtesy of oil of olay, St. Ives, and L'Oreal. Pulled an Elizabeth Arden and filled up a bowl of hot water, tossed in some orange slices and sprigs of rosemary, and threw a towel over my head to steam my face for ten minutes. I nearly burned myself with wax but it got the job done and I was as naked as a seal, douched, oiled my little backdoor rosebud and took a rosewater and chamomile bath, washed, blow dried, and hot rolled my hair. I also made sure to starve myself 24 hours before this event living off of oolong tea and beef broth with Welsh onions.
My makeup is done to the Gods mimicking Material Girl Madonna since I will be eating at a five star steakhouse, same hairstyle too for it compliments my peroxide blonde hair.
I rubbed my skin with rosewater body cream, and perfumed myself with Anais Anais, finding an outfit took two hours on top of that. But in the end I decided on a dress, I'm convincing enough to appear female so I won't embarrass L.A.’s favorite attorney Joel Mitcham at the city's most exclusive steakhouse.
I chose black, backless halter dress with a severe plunge almost to the naval, the skirt was short and ended in a wrap with the split high up my thigh, the hem ended just below my plush thighs that slimfast, jazzercise, and cosmo diets seem to not be able to get rid of. I secured thigh high nylon stockings to my garter and a satin black thong disappeared between my ample backside beneath, the said Chanel slingback knock offs adorned my feet, and a fake gold bracelet wrapped around my waist with matching small gold hoop earrings.
I looked like a flat chested tramp and was heading out to hail a cab when for some reason, it was pouring rain all of a sudden. How was this happening? How did I always have such rotten luck? My hair I spent forever in was ruined, my dress was ruined, my makeup was ruined, I started to cry in front of my apartment building.
I dug into my purse to look for my keys, so I could go back inside and call the restaurant to tell Joel about my delay. But me being the space case I am, I left them inside! Could this get any worse? Avery is at work at the club and won't be back until 4 at the earliest! What rotten luck!
I'd have to catch a cab to the club to borrow his keys.
For fifteen minutes, I tried hailing a cab in this pouring and shivering rain. The dress was like a second skin to me now and I was crying more. I gave up and got on the bus, enduring cat calls and weirdos as well as slurs I was getting due to my current state. I looked at my reflection in the bus window, wincing at how much I looked like a drowned prostitute.
I got off on sunset, stumbling off and immediately colliding into a solid chest that could easily be mistaken for a brick wall. Big hands caught my waist and I laid my hands on the stranger's chest. “I'm so sorry!” I exclaimed breathlessly. I looked up and my knees literally became weak.
I even stumbled a bit with those damn weak ankles of mine, like out of a movie.
I am not exaggerating when I say that I'm looking up at the most gorgeous man on the planet. The perfect dark and straight determined eyebrows above expressive, narrow, dark brown eyes that hold a smoldering quality, a perfectly noble nose that was a little pronounced and full rosy lips beckoning a kiss. He has strong yet smooth facial features, paired with his cascading, swirling waves of strawberry blonde, he looks just like a prince out of a fairy tale.
“Hey no fire, you're okay.” the stranger said casually before assessing my drowned appearance. “You look like you need to dry off.”
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Dave was feeling really good about the show his new band had, ‘84 was going to be his year, everything was lining up how it was supposed to for fucking once. Usually life dealt him the short end of the fucking stick that's for sure, nothing ever went right for Dave, even when he was born his family fell apart.
And if things seemed to be going great then it would crash and burn, ugly. Like being homeless for a bit and there was well Metallica, and he won't forget about his guitarist dying on him.
No way, God loved giving Dave a big fat middle finger.
But this year, this year he was taking control of his own life. He didn't believe in destiny, he didn't believe in fate, just himself.
He was high on success more than anything else tonight, stepped outside for a smoke before meeting up with this girl he's been seeing, Diana. They weren't serious but he'll see, she's pretty with a tan and long chestnut hair and a petite build.
He was certain about everything, which is how he likes it.
But then he bumped into someone right on Sunset, passing Filthy McNasty's. He was ready to give them hell, really make them feel Like a complete piece of shit for slamming into him like that. But he looked down, almost but not quite speechless, of course if he wasn't such a loquacious man he would definitely be rendered speechless.
What bumped into him was– is a gorgeous, wet little woman. Stunning actually, stunning enough to make him forget all about Diana and her place tonight.
All he could focus on was the short little beauty who got caught in the rain, soaked blonde hair stuck to her small shoulders, mascara running down her heart shaped face, red lips impressively still intact, shivering in a black revealing number that was pasted to her tan skin. Emphasizing wide hips and plush thighs worthy of Penthouse, and the hard nipples on her…
After Dave reassured her that it was okay, he realized those hard, pronounced nipples that were evident in the wet garment, are not breasts.
His heart was pounding blood pounded in his ears, his face turned red at the realization, and his skin felt prickly as he became half hard despite this discovery.
A man is turning him on.
A man in a skimpy dress with big Hazel eyes looking all Bambi and helpless up at him with bee-stung plump, red lips was giving him a hard on in the middle of the street in the middle of the rain, and making Dave conjure up the most filthy imagery.
He imagined dragging the marilyn boy into the nearby alley, not pushing the skirt of his teasingly short dress up but ripping the garment until his most likely sun-kissed, juicy ass was revealed to his greedy, starving eyes. Pushing his plump ass cheeks apart to see how tight or spread that rosebud of his, sinking his cock in and making marks and bruises that'll leave memories…
Dave didn't know why he felt this way, he has never in his life desired a guy, not even a little bit. He wasn't exactly known to be open minded, he's from San Diego, too much military influence for that.
He's seen plenty of passing men in women's clothes since he moved to L.A., most of the very passing…but none quite as passing as them. So delicate and small, could easily be mistaken, as a flat chested girl, a gymnast or ballerina. But…he's not…he's a…well…he…and for some reason Dave's want for him and need for him outweighed all else.
“Wanna get out of the rain?” He asked the blond.
Hazel eyes widened comically yet adorably up at Dave. Long, dark lashes fluttered like butterfly wings as a dainty hand with manicured red nails rose to move wet curls out of those Bambi eyes.
She– he, looked so confused, it was very cute. It made Dave smile, his hands never left blonde's waist. In fact it tightened. If Snow White's brother here was smart and had any survivor instincts, he'd try and leave. Key word try, because Dave wasn't sure if he wanted to let him go.
But Bambi here just blinked stupidly, before the most radiant, prettiest smile with teeth and a sultry gap between the two front were on display. He glowed like a candle in a house whose electric bill wasn't paid. “Oh that would be so nice, thank you!”
Dave snorted. “Are you willing to go off with a stranger?”
Disney boy here just looked sweetly puzzled for a brief moment before a soft giggle left his full lips. “Well how about you tell me your name? Then you won't be a stranger anymore.”
He was putting so much faith in someone like Dave, most people wouldn't. He looks like the typical burden on society, long hair and heavy metal, the recipe of a devil worshipper, and coincidentally, Dave was one briefly in high school.
But this little wet kitten of a boy here was willing to go with him to get warm and dry, it melted the harsh metalhead that's for sure, brought out his protective instincts, one a man usually naturally feels for a woman.
“It's Dave”
He smiled warmly up at Dave, it was the sort of smile that could heal Dave's childhood…almost.
Dave drove them back to his.
He had given his Jean jacket to him to wear before they got in the car, he turned on the heat once they were in and was impressed when blondie didn't flinch at the boisterous headbanger threatening to abuse the speakers.
Once they got to Dave's, he got out of the car and ran to the passenger side, opening the door for the boy.
A fragile hand took Dave's, a long, nylon wrapped legged stepped out before bringing the owner. “Such a gentleman.” He giggled, it was teasing and made the singer wonder what he could do to get him to giggle like that again.
He opened the door for him and watched the boy carefully step in as if his dainty ass would somehow be a disturbance.
Dave walked behind him watching him, admiring him being swallowed in his jacket, bleached hair drying into beautiful natural curls. His messy mascara makes his eyes more wide and innocent.
His legs looked so shapely and he needed to see them over his shoulders.
“You can shower, I'll get you some dry clothes.” Dave appeared right by him, a large hand on his hip causing the feminine man to gasp. “I'll show you where the bathroom is.”
He nodded before Dave proceeded to lead him to the bathroom. He turned on the light and watched the pretty boy take off the borrowed jacket, revealing the most exquisite back that pointed down to a nice pair of hips and a thick ass.
Dave swallowed as his eyes caught a tear in his nylon, and he couldn't fight his hardening cock when he watched the guy step out of his slingbacks, shrinking attractively before his eyes. Dave had to have nearly a foot on him. Goddamn…
He was gone the moment the boy cast his gaze over his naked shoulder.
Dave couldn't stop himself didn't sto himself. He launched himself at male beauty. “Let me help you with that.” His voice had become unmistakably husky as he gripped the sopping wet garment and tore it with his bare hands from his small body.
A beautifully gasp ripped from the petit blond. It was shreds of fabric at their feet and Dave groaned vocally at the sight of his perfect peach ass having a black satin thong being swallowed by his cheeks.
He aggressively slapped his bouncy ass before grabbing the globes harshly, pushing his denim clad erection eagerly into the plentiful backside. He didn't care what he was, boy or girl, Dave had to have him.
★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★
“Oh baby, fuck- look at you all dressed up.” Dave moaned in my ear, his solid, hot body pressed completely against my back, overpowering me in the most delicious way. I felt like my body was on fire, his impressive hard on dug into my ass as squeezed all and every part of me, my nipples ached with need and I was sporting a little hard on myself.
His full lips were hot and wet on my neck as he maneuvered his hand around to turn on the shower. He rubbed my chest and squeezed it before tugging on my puffy red nipples. It pulled a pathetic, whining whimper from my lips.
“Yeah, you like that? Such a good, responsive little slut.” He rasped in my ear and I heard his belt unbuckle and his zipper come undone, my heart raced and he turned me around, his predatory, wolvish eyes took me in, leering at my thighs and the small, naked, rosy erection that laid between them. He grasped it causing my knees to become weak, drawing another whine from me. It was firm but gentle. “It's like a clit, so small.” He moaned in a positive way. “Everything about you is so small, so easy to manhold.” His huge hand then slapped my ass so hard I yelped and leaned into him, which made him chuckle. Feeling his barenaked, impressive cock against my stomach. “Not everything, God this is a fucking ass.”
He forced me down on my knees with a harsh push on my shoulder. I looked up at him dizzy.
“Be a good little whore daddy and suck.” He spoke sweet but it was condescending, causing my tip to leak.
I didn't wait another moment, I took hold of his huge cock, my small hand having a hard time doing so, he looked down with a guttural groan, lips parted, eyes darker and hooded, I could feel him pulse in my hand. “So tiny.” He was breathless as he said and I put my mouth on him, feel wetter when I drew the grand reaction of him swearing an elicit ‘fuck so fucking warm’ as I did so.
I conjured up a lot of saliva as I started suckling, he tastes so good, so musky , such masculine taste. I took a little more of him and his hand fisted into my damp hair, lithe hips started thrusting his big member further in my mouth. “That's a good girl, look at you, such a pretty little girl with more cock than she can handle. Can you handle more?” His tone was filthy and degrading.
I wanted to please him so desperately, I took him deeper so I could feel him in the back of my throat. He cursed and grabbed my hair tighter as he thrust faster into my throat, wet lewd sounds disappeared beneath the music of the shower, but you could hear Dave's vulgar language through it all, echoing against the bathroom walls. “Take it, that's right, fucking take it, you were meant for his- fuck!” He pulled me off his cock abruptly, his pupils blown, chest rising and falling, looking feral with a thin film of sweat decorating his ivory skin.
Saliva spilled filthy down my swollen lips and chin, he looked at me like a starving beast. “I almost came, fuck, I need you now, gonna give me your hole baby?” He asked as he stroked my drool dripped chin, his tone suggested I had no choice.
Dumbly, I nodded. As easily as lifting a doll, he lifted me up into his strong arms. He carried me into the shower and pinned me against the wall as he pressed his mouth against mine. My eyes would roll back if they weren't already closed. Fuck how could any mere mortal kiss like that? It wasn't chaste, bland or sloppy, it was a caress before he pried me open with a forced self invitation, our lips felt glued together suctioned together, it slow yet starvation was expressed as he dominated our mouth to mouth and smoothly sucked on my tongue, tasting every part of me and stealing away my right to breathe. It was all consuming as his big hands rubbed down my back and squeezed my ass and thighs as if he had every right as if he owned them.
Feeling him hold me, paw at me, grab me, and his hot as a furnace body enveloping me was making me dizzy in such a euphoric way.
When I lost the last drop of oxygen and was feeling light headed, he tore his lips from mine with a gasp and began to leave sweet open mouth kisses down my neck. “Smell so damn sweet.” He growled. His huge cock kept rubbing against my little leaking one.
My abdomen was knotted in insane amounts of pleasure, I whimpered feeling his patch of hair scratch against my tummy.
He pressed two big fingers to my mouth, eyes lidded and drunk with Rapture. “Suck.”
I immediately obeyed, sucking into my mouth with greed. His eyes rolled back. “Good boy.” I sucked them knuckle deep, squelched wet sounds caused his cock to twitch and drip against me.
As I was beginning to choke on his long fingers, he withdrew them, admiring the sopping wet, slobbery work I'd done before putting them back in, forcing my mouth open delivering his own spit into my awaiting mouth.
I melted and was at my end, it was the thing that made me completely need to submit to him, to call him…but I can't call him that when I know he's gonna kick me out when I satisfy his itch. “Such a good girl, swallow that for me, that's it. God you're too pretty.”
I whimpered at his praise, before I knew it he had spread my ass cheeks apart and was rubbing my hole before sliding a finger in. I winced at that before I moaned in his ear. “Fucking Christ, you are so tight, such a tight little baby.” He was massaging and thrusting his finger inside of me, the burn of the stretch made me harder and I relaxed against him with kittenish moans and whines.
“Such a good little one, fuck, ready for another finger? Yeah? I need to hear you say you're ready baby.”
I moaned at being called baby by him, and stopped myself mid nod, knowing he wanted words. “Yes Dave, please I'd love another finger.”
He groaned “I'm not going to be able to be patient if you keep talking like that.”
I smiled, happy to know I have such an effect on him. I licked his neck and heard a moving gasp release from his lips. “Don't be patient.” I whispered in his ear.
I took great pleasure in watching his face flush and his Adam's Apple bobbed, I leaned into kiss it and cried against it when he pushed in the second finger, now fingering me deep and so good, so good, so good, so good- “so good, so good, so good!” I cried the mantra in hysteria.
“Look at you baby, so goddamn dumb, can't even think for yourself, won't be able to cum without me telling you to.” He cooed.
He fingered me faster and moved his fingers in scissor motion. I screamed. “Please, please let me cum, I'll be so good please!”
He thrust against me and nodded as he watched me fall apart. “Cum baby.”
I screamed it was high pitch and gasping, and I made such a mess on our stomachs and cocks.
“Fuck, I can't wait anymore!” He declared passionately.
He lined his cock to my back entrance, holding me firmly against the wall before slowly easing the thick length in. Tears burned in my eyes, the stretch was painful at first but that only turned me on more, made me more needier. And fuck what a stretch it was. My eyes were closed as I cried out a wet outcry, I felt his lips on my cheek though. “I'm so sorry baby.” He kissed my lips so gently as if I had broken in his arms. I was surprised by his display of tenderness, it was like a warm blanket on a cold night.
He licked up my tears and I moaned “you can move, please move.” And he did, his hips rolled in the perfect rhythm like his body understood mine, and it felt too fucking good, I didn't know it was supposed to feel this good. Nothing could possibly compete with this, if I died tonight I'd be too pleased. Maybe it was because it was comparable but I felt so attached to him now, and when I opened my eyes and looked up at him, I saw such tenderness in his wolvish eyes as he looked down into mine.
His arms tightened protectively, possessively around me. A hand caressed my cheek with gentleness, his lips kissed mine so softly, his hand slid down to my neck as he curled his fingers around my throat, and I fell in love. “Harder” I begged quietly.
And he complied, oh my God did he comply.
Slamming his hips against mine, his bulbous tip hitting that spot in me over and over to the point I had no control over my words.
“Right there daddy, please let me cum daddy!”
When he froze, when his balls paused slapping viciously against my ass, my heart dropped. What if he called me gross, or hit me or–
“You wanna make a mess on daddy's cock?”
Oh, I didn't expect that.
Didn't expect his honeyed voice to say such sweet things, or his eyes to smolder me looking at me like I was the answer to every problem. He squeezed my throat, I felt brainless. My only thought was daddy and Dave. “Don't make daddy ask twice.’’
“Yes daddy, I wanna make a big mess on your big cock, I'll clean it so good afterwards too-” He was slamming faster and harder, I was desperate for it and started to bounce on his cock whining vocally.
“Fuck that's it. That's. My. Fucking. Little. Bunny!” He emphasized with each and every thrust.
“Oh shit, daddy I'm cumming!”
“Cum baby fucking cum for daddy!”
I screamed and felt like I saw white, the light at the end of the tunnel. I have never cum that hard in my life, and it felt Neverending when I felt Dave fill me up. I have never felt so complete.
He slid down with me in his arms and still inside of me, panting into my neck. Once he gathered his breath, he pressed sweet kisses to my neck and shoulder. “Jesus, I have never cum that hard in my life.”
My heart glowed. “Neither have I. "I admittedly softly and closed my eyes.
“I only have generic brand shit.”
I opened my eyes in confusion. “Huh?”
“For shampoo and conditioner, it's generic. Your hair is fancy as shit. So I apologize in advance.”
I couldn't help but grin, he likes my hair. “I use Salon Selectives shampoo and conditioner, and Luster's Pink cream and gloss spray. But this will be just fine for tonight.” I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
He looked at me with a soft smile before using his shampoo in my hair. It felt nice and felt so good being cared for, for once.
“I have no food, so we'll have to eat at the diner tomorrow.”
My heart raced. “You want me to stay the night?”
He paused the delicious massaging on my scalp. “I don't know, what do you want to do? Did you have plans tomorrow, any plans to do with the ones you had before me?”
“I don't, um I'd really like to stay the night.”
He continued the massage then rinsed my hair. “Who were you meeting up with tonight?” He tried to sound casual but failed.
“A date.”
He scoffed. “A date that didn't pick you up?”
I shrugged.
He was washing my body with some soap that smells like Irish Spring. He grasped my shoulder a little tight. “You don't need to see him anymore, especially someone who didn't think you were good enough to pick you up.”
I smiled. “Would you have picked me up?”
He put the soap down. “Shit, I'll pick you up right now” I squealed when he stood up and scooped me up into his arms. “Dave, what if we slip?”
“Nah, I wouldn't drop such a delicate package.”
I giggled and played with his hair. “Does this diner have French toast?”
“If it doesn't I'll take you to another, I'll take you anywhere you want.”
-
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WELCOME TO MY BLOG
hello! my names cas or casper wtv u wanna call be honestly. i'm pretty new to nsfw tumblr writing but i love writing and i LOVE writing filthy fucking smut. i probably wont commit to multiple chapter stories but i can probably commit to au's and i'll do my best to give you decent length stories/blurbs.
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ೃ༄HIT DICE (VII)
EDDIE MUNSON X HARRINGTON!OC
MASTERLIST
✧chapter seven: teenage wasteland
↳ word count: 7k
↳ spoiler warning: up to s4ep7-8
↳ other warnings: angst, death, blood and injury descriptions, loads of self-deprecation
↳ mentioned songs/artists: Dave Mustaine, Iron Maiden, Talking Heads, Slayer, Baba O’Riley by The Who
↳ a/n: decided to surprise y’all with a chapter a day earlier! thank you (once again) for all the love and support this fic has received so far <3
"Henderson's a fucking genius!" Stacy exclaimed as her eyes traveled down the ceiling of the more gruesome duplicate of Eddie's trailer.
Soaked in sweat and dirt, moldy air clutching onto her hair, she stood up firmly with the hands on her hips. The sudden outburst of confidence, caused by the thrill of the getaway that was only millimeters away, made a petite, although a confident smile entering her face.
"Don't say it out loud. You'll only feed this kid's abundant ego even more," her brother scolded her, sighing.
"And what's wrong with that?" Stacy replied challengingly.
"Uh, I don't know... everything?! He's not going to stop blabbering about it!"
Shaken by a chuckle due to Steve's annoyed expression, she watched Max and Lucas tying two white sheets together, alongside Dustin bringing a mattress in quite questionable condition.
"Those stains are, uh..." Eddie started, glancing awkwardly at the four, who were stuck beside him in the alternate dimension. "I don't know what those stains are," he added rapidly.
"Mhmm," Robin murmured, her eyebrows raised.
"Just admit you wet your bed each time you listen to Dave Mustaine's shredding his guitar solo," Stacy chuckled quietly, nudging the metalhead.
"Oh, shush," he quieted her in a cumbersome tone, however, he couldn't help but smirk at her conceited remark.
As the makeshift rope appeared in front of Stacy and her friends, all of them looked at each other, searching for a volunteer, who would risk the escape between two alternate worlds first.
"I guess I'll be the guinea pig," Robin stated, gripping onto the bedsheets.
A salve of cheers sprouted out the kids mouth the moment she landed on the mattress, nearly unharmed.
"Stace." Steve pointed out at the gate while staring with anticipation at his younger sister.
If it was up to her, she would've preferred to be the last, who crossed the barrier between the two dimensions after making sure everyone was secured first. However, dense circumstances, especially those involving monsters and slimy veins, required adequate measures. Therefore, Stacy knew arguing would be pointless.
"Just don't hang out without me too much," she replied in a light-hearted tone, trying to bring even a tiniest amount of closure to the rest. "See you on the other side," she added, climbing herself up.
Having no idea where the strength to lift up her whole body came from, she gritted her teeth as she made her way towards the exit. The whole process of shifting dimensions could be compared to a ride on a rollercoaster — the suspense of approaching its highest point, only to temporarily loose all of the senses when the labyrinth in the inner ear was going crazy.
That was exactly what happened before she slammed onto the mattress, hissing a quiet, "Fuck, ouch," underneath her breath.
The moment she tried to pick herself up and clear the space for others to land, she felt her leg being crushed by the weight of a very certain, curly-haired person.
"You couldn't wait two more seconds, could you?" she joked, noticing the embarrassment painted all over Eddie's cheeks.
"Sorry... I slipped," he smirked watching the dramatic frown displayed by her. "That was... fun."
As Dustin helped them both got up, Stacy and Eddie made their way towards the kitchen counter, awaiting for Steve and Nancy to join them.
With the unexplainable urge, probably caused by the adrenaline and excitement of getting out the Upside Down, Stacy smiled widely, her arms wrapping around Eddie. As the same feeling of relief took over him, the metalhead's fingers traveled to Stacy's hair, pulling her closer.
"Now we just need Iron Maiden playing," he smiled, referring to the conversation they had before getting to the Wheeler's house.
"Ew, gross. Get a room," Dustin scoffed, causing the two to awkwardly let go of each other.
"Nancy! Nancy! Open your eyes!" The terrified screams of her brother felt like a steak going through Stacy's heart, paralyzing her immediately.
"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. No, no, no," she gasped in frenzy after peeking through the gate and noticing Nancy Wheeler in the exact same state she saw Patrick a day before.
"Not again," Eddie let out, terror sinking his body. The blank eyes, prepared for the mortifying picture he had witnessed not one, but two times kept him from moving.
"Shit! Robin! Come with me!" Stacy yelled, merely regaining control of her mind.
Running towards the bedroom she was so well-acquainted with, she pulled out the drawer Eddie kept his cassettes in, rapidly starting rummaging through it.
Her fingers moved in frenzy, her panicked brain failed to notice everyone except Erica Sinclair joining her search. Muttering curses underneath her breath, she tried to find anything Nancy could possibly listen to.
"Steve says you need to hurry!" Erica yelled.
Stacy's fingers felt like the blood circulation had been cut off of them. That, however, didn't stop her from throwing a bunch of tapes on Eddie's bed in hopes of Robin helping her.
"What is all this shit?!" the Family Video employee screamed.
"What are you even looking for?!" Eddie shouted, just as panicked as anyone else in his trailer.
"Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles! Music! We need music!" she explained frantically, holding out a cassette.
"This! Is! Music!" Eddie growled, taking the Iron Maiden recording from her.
His yell acted like a switch in Stacy's head, bringing the wave of clear vision. Without a word, she shoved her hand into his back pocket.
"Stacy, what are..!"
"I have Talking Heads on this," she breathed out, taking out the mixtape she gave to Eddie right after the murder of Chrissy happened. "Nancy's boyfriend listens to it, right?!" she asked, looking for any sign of confirmation from the others.
"I... I guess!" Lucas answered, recalling the time he spent at the Byer's house during which Johnatan blasted the '77 album.
"Let's fucking hope it works!" Stacy exclaimed, grabbing Eddie's Walkman from his desk before she made her way back to the living room. "Steve! Grab this!" she yelled before she was ready to throw him the device, however...
...Nancy's eyes had already open as she now mortifyingly clutched onto Eddie's vest Steve was wearing.
"What the..." Stacy whispered. "Steve! Get her out of there!" she screamed, watching her brother helping the Wheeler girl climb up the rope.
Stumbling on her feet, the substantial panic washing away, Stacy subsided by the wall, letting her body slide down without control.
As the group approached the terrified girl, who had just encountered Vecna, Stacy pinched the sides of her nose before getting back up. On legs that felt like they were made out of cotton candy, she failed to notice her trembling hands that cupped Nancy's face.
"Hey, hey. You're okay. Everything's fine now," she whispered to her, examining her face.
Nancy didn't answer. Her gaze was absent.
How couldn't it be after the tremendously petrifying experience?
"Can you... give her some space," Steve mumbled, wrapping his arms around Wheeler's shoulders.
With a single nod, Stacy escorted Robin and the kids on the couches in Eddie's living room, herself making her way to the tap to get Nancy some water.
"You're bleeding again," Eddie pointed out the second she turned her back to him.
Confused, Stacy looked down at the bat bite on her collarbone. He was right. The fall must've opened it once more.
"Come here," he whispered and grabbing her hand, he led her to the tiny bathroom. Taking out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some cotton pads, he wordlessly offered to clean up her wound.
"No," she stopped him before he got a chance to do so. "I have to do it myself... I hate the stinging," she explained with a small, apologetic smile, approaching the mirror to take a better look at her injury.
Gritting her teeth as she began disinfecting it, she felt Eddie carefully sweeping the hair from the nape of her neck.
"Thank you... Shit!" she hissed after the alcohol made contact with her skin. Looking at the cotton pad that was now soaked with crimson liquid, her eyes met Eddie's. "Nasty, don't you agree?" she joked, trying to cheer up the both of them.
"Quite badass if you asked me," he chuckled, stroking her hair. With the other hand, he reached out for the box of beige band aids, scrunching the nose the moment he noticed they were too small to put on the wound.
"In my wildest dreams, I wouldn't have suspected Eddie Munson of owning band aids," she giggled, taking the box from him.
"Well, I do play guitar," he smirked, showing her his calloused fingers that often required such treatment.
"Oh... stupid me," Stacy shrugged, taping another cotton pad with two plasters. "Look. It's an innovation. Temporary and amateur… but an innovation," she pointed out at her now secured wound.
Eddie shook his head, his brown curls covering his sight as he laughed at her comment.
"Do you want... like a T-shirt, or something? That one you're wearing is kind of..." he stopped himself, glancing at the dirty white blouse stained with blood.
"Yeah," she whispered awkwardly, following him back to his bedroom.
"In my wildest dreams," he repeated her words before he handed her a shirt. "I would've never thought I'd be providing the Harringtons with clothes."
Stacy bursted out in laughter, taking off her denim jacket. Her good humor lasted until she noticed the handmade band logo on the piece of fabric.
"Slayer? Really? I've told you it's not my cup of tea," she complained in a lofty manner.
"Maybe that's why I kind of wanted to see you wear it," he replied in a hushed tone, toying his curls. A serious expression washed his smile the moment he realized, "I-If you want to get changed I'll lea..."
"No," Stacy interrupted him, feeling a sudden burning on her cheeks. "I-I mean, if you're not comfortable then you can… but I might need some help taking this off," she pointed at the white fabric that stuck to her skin due to the dried blood.
It looked too painful to begin with.
"...and besides," she continued, looking away. "I don't want to stay alone."
Her vulnerable tone made Eddie's heart flutter as he walked up to her, grabbing the sides of the shirt she was wearing. Trying his best not to catch a glimpse of her chest, now covered only by a bra, he gently lifted up the fabric.
"You look so silly," Stacy chuckled, pointing at his focused expression. "Haven't seen a topless girl before?"
He was bright red.
And the worst part about this being he couldn't hide his reaction as he was only few steps away from her.
"It's just... I'd never thought I'd be undressing the Stacy Harrington," he confessed, trying to sound as if he was joking.
Stacy slammed her head on his chest, silent giggles coming over her body.
"The Stacy," she repeated in the exact same mannerism. "Eddie, it's not that big of a deal... I'm not that big of a deal."
"That's a lie," he disagreed before cupping her chin in his left hand. Locking eyes with her, he added softly, "You have no idea how big of a deal you are, buttercup."
She wanted to close her eyes.
She wanted to lean forward and plant the most passionate kiss on his lips while he was holding her so tightly.
She wanted to forget about the whole world around them.
And yet, she pulled away. Hence she knew she couldn't. Emotions would only jeopardize her rational thinking.
"We... should go back to them," she murmured, timidly glancing at her boots.
"Yeah, right, sorry." Eddie's apologetic coyness shattered her heart in pieces.
Before she got a chance to grab his hand and ensure him she was feeling the exact same, he had already left his bedroom, guilty whether or not he imposed himself on her.
"Fuck!" Stacy growled, hitting the hard surface of the wall with her fist.
After we deal with it, she promised herself before joining Eddie and the others in his living room.
When the sun rose, nothing could prepare the others for the story Nancy had begun telling. The story of what Vecna had showed her.
Dead soldiers, an army of monsters, gates spreading over Hawkins...
It was enough to frighten anyone. Even those who had experienced the horrid things that happened over the span of the last years.
If her weight wasn't supported by the windowsill, Stacy would've definitely slide down, allowing her body to uncontrollably tremble. Yet, something on the brim of her mind ordered her to neglect her own fear and made her attention focused on sorting the information.
She knew before they had no other option than to stop Vecna. And Nancy's confession made it even more vivid, more real... A final stroke of what was bound to happen.
While Max disclosed the four chimes were signaling four victims, all of them immediately realized she was holding onto a thread that stopped her from being the final one.
"We need to get back to the Upside Down," Nancy stated, her voice firm and steady.
It was Steve and Eddie that bursted out in disagreement, roaming it was abdominally atrocious idea.
"She's right," Stacy whispered, turning everyone's attention to her. "There's no other way we could stop this massacre from happening..."
No matter how dearly she wanted to convince herself it wasn't the case, no matter how tremendously she feared it wasn't going to go auspicious. No matter how panic-stricken she was at the thought of losing anyone else, she was aware they had no other choice.
That's when Dustin suggested they could use knowing Eleven as an advantage, Stacy nodded her head.
"If we snuck to the Upside Down while he attacks, we would have the time to..." Her voice painfully dropped the second her eyes focused on Eddie.
Covering his face as to hide his expression, she didn't fail to notice a subtle shake, the tiniest amount of trepidation that was enough to tell her he was on the verge of tears. And for some reason realizing that was more painful than the idea of Stacy getting hurt herself.
"...kill him," she ended, hiding her shaking hands behind her back.
"Yeah, yeah, and how are we gonna do that, smartass?" Steve argued, although his tone was far from angry... He was immensely afraid.
"We don't even know who he's going to attack next," Robin agreed, finishing the thought Stacy interrupted her.
"Yeah, we do." Max's distant whisper was like an arctic breath of death on everyone's necks.
Atmosphere became unbearably eerie when she explained she could still feel him. It reached its peak when she suggested to be a distraction whilst the others focus on annihilating the teen-killing monster.
Max spoke in frenzy yet still, Stacy admired her bravery in designation. Digging her nails into her fragile skin, she held her disapproval inside. Now the substantial matter were to stop Vecna before he got the chance to possess the redhead girl.
It felt like walking into a morgue; the realization that took over each member of the party pierced their minds as the sight of the gaping mouths of skeletons.
Nancy was the one, who broke the silence once again, kneeling down next to a coffee table. Dividing the group on three, she distributed the tasks, or rather the primal ideas of how they were going to fulfill their duty. Originally, Stacy was supposed to join her, Robin and Steve on the venture to the Creel's house in the Upside Down. Yet, after hearing Eddie and Dustin were assigned to fight the flying creatures they encountered the night before, she rose up from the windowsill, slowly shaking her head.
"I don't like this," she mumbled, her terrified gaze fixed on the opposite window.
"No shit," Steve scoffed, visibly agitated by his own panic.
"No, no..." She crossed her arms before looking back at him. "The bats. We saw how hard it is to fight them. While their swarming, it's impossible for anyone to defend themselves... I-I know them and Vecna are connected but… it's still bold to assume they'll die after you guys defeat him... And after Dustin and Eddie flee, they'll still be around the trailer," she explained, noticing Nancy's mouth opening.
"So what do you suggest?"
Stacy took a deep breath, ready to vocalize her part of the plan. "Someone needs to be a distraction... That way you'll be able to come back," she stated, noticing how distinctly Eddie glanced at Steve. Almost like he was seeking for help.
"Stacy..." her brother started, his thoughts identical to what the metalhead wanted to express.
"I'll hide in the woods and when Dustin's gives me sign over the walkie, I'll..."
"Hey, I think you'll getting too carried away," Eddie interrupted her, quickly standing up.
"Will you guys let me finish?" Stacy hissed.
Her inner anger only soothing when she realized Steve and Eddie weren't skeptical of her plan... They were afraid of her distracting the bats alone.
"I-I'll be fine. In the woods, it'd be harder for them to even get to me. And if you'll get me a gun, I'll just fire it and sprint right away to safety," she promised, her voice loosing all of its previous harshness, her face softening.
"Do you even know how to use a gun?" Eddie furrowed his brow, still not sold on her idea.
"She taught me," Stacy smirked, pointing at Nancy, who reciprocated her expression. "So? Does everyone agree? It's not a matter to be discussed anyway, I'm just asking for the formalities."
The girls nodded her head immediately, their reactions only to be followed by Steve and Eddie's resigned scoffs. It didn't take long for them to disclose the further parts of the plan, realizing they needed to obtain weapons. That's when Eddie's input of the store War Zone occurred. Met with pitiful whines of Erica and Robin, he took out the map, pointing towards the directions they were going to head. Now the only problem remaining — their source of transport.
Stacy hated the sly smirk that appeared on the metalhead's face as she immediately knew it didn't indicate anything legal. Therefore, it didn't surprise her when he asked Max for a ski mask. Carefully exiting his trailer as though no one would see them, the group ran to the Mayfield's property in search for the spoken item.
Despite the grave situation Stacy couldn't help but burst into laughter when the redhead girl brought back a Mike Myers mask from her room.
"Thought you didn't want to draw attention," she chuckled, watching Eddie putting on the latex Halloween costume.
"Kinda fits with the serial murderer theme," he replied, his remark sounding awfully self-deprecating.
Crouching like a soldiers on a mission, the team found themselves sneaking around the trailer park. As Eddie ordered them to get into one of the RV vans through an open window, Stacy bit her lip at the irrational tint of the situation. Although her face displayed no sense of shock nor confusion as it did on the others. Frankly, it seemed quite accustomed.
"Should I be worried you seem so used to breaking into a van?" Robin asked her the moment they all set their foot in the vehicle, Eddie and Steve making their way to the front.
"I've been friends with him for the past half of the year... At this point rarely anything surprises me," Stacy chuckled, adjusting the sleeve of the Slayer T-shirt.
"We'll talk about that in a second," Robin pointed out at her clothing before her face dropped as she speeded towards the driver's seat.
Following her, Stacy caught a glimpse of Eddie messing with the wires.
"Uh, Eddie? I'm not sure I like the idea of you driving," Robin exclaimed, leaning over Steve's shoulder.
With his usual cocky grin, the curly-haired man looked up, saying, "Oh, I'm just starting this sucker... Harrington's got her, don't ya' big boy?"
"Are you flirting with my brother, Munson?" Stacy busted out laughing the moment the engine fired.
"Jealous?" His nonchalance soon disappeared after noticing the owners of the RV yelling and banging on the side of the car.
"Shit! Let's go!"
Bumping into one of the backseats when Steve maniacally started the van, Stacy felt her hand being pulled as though protect her from collapsing.
"Gotcha," Eddie smirked, supporting her waist to help her get back up.
Murmuring her thanks, she watched his smug expression disappeared once more. This time, however, it wasn't due to visible danger as a moment before. Now, Stacy sensed timidity and audible abashment as his muffled, "No problem," reached her ears.
I fucked up, she thought. I gravely fucked up.
It quieted down when Steve drove away for a safe distance, the relief causing everyone to take proper seats and relax. Or rather, try to relax as the moments of sweet peace before the storm seemed to bottle up in the vehicle.
Max and Lucas sat on the back couch, deep in a conversation. Nancy took a seat in the front and Robin was arguing about something with Dustin. Even Eddie, who situated himself opposite of them appeared to be taking advantage of the mere sensation of serenity.
It was only Stacy, who was still standing at that point. Nervously picking the skin around her fingers, she beat herself up in her thoughts for making the metalhead uncomfortable, hence she knew the fault laid in her behavior.
The sudden need of confession overpowered her. She wanted to tell him about the way her face lightened up each time she saw him. She wanted to describe the butterflies that firstly seemed so outrageously disruptive but now became a pleasant reality. And mostly, she felt the urge to reassure him she reciprocated his feelings.
She didn't mean to pull away. She didn't mean it , but still it was the only option she had. Otherwise even stronger connection would form between them — that leading to a disastrous doom if...
...if one of them didn't survive.
Seeing the corpses of the people she knew last summer, watching what a Demogorgon could do to a person was enough for her to form a habit of always needing to protect others.
It was for his own good, she repeated in her mind. If she was to die during the next couple of hours at least he would mourn her only as a friend, which, of course, would still tore his soul but objectively — of the two evils, that option was lesser drastic.
This moment of self-realization made her aware thorough all this time she had been preparing herself not to make it out alive. Trying to defend anyone but herself, trying to make sure they were secured, Stacy had been entirely lost in the need of accepting her death. A death that lured closer with every second.
That was why she offered to distract the bats.
She had no interest in her own well-being. The only thing that mattered was for people she cared about to make it out safe.
Gathering their things, Steve, Nancy and Robin headed towards the exit when the RV was parked near War Zone's. With the intent to follow them, she stopped after the trim her shirt had been pulled by Eddie.
"You shouldn't go. The police knows you're involved," he reminded her, recalling she gave a testimony after the tragedy that took place on the Lover's Lake.
"Right," she agreed, waving at her brother and the girls as a sign she won't be joining them.
Swallowing the gulp of awkwardness, she rested on the front seat, just in case neither the kids nor Eddie were interested in talking to her. She didn't know whether to be glad or allow the panic to take over when the metalhead took a seat opposite of her.
"Hey..."
"Hi," she smiled softly as he touched her knee with his.
The silence consumed them for the next couple of seconds, each of them having no idea how to strike a conversation. Eddie looked away, playing with his hair, meanwhile Stacy bounced her feet anxiously, hoping for the right words to come.
"That hot-wire thing you did... pretty impressive," she started, crossing her legs as though she was meant to hide her nervousness.
"Yeah, and I swore I wouldn't be like my pops," he chuckled, dismay coming from his tone.
Noticing what she meant as a compliment completely backfired as a brutal reminder of his past, she placed a hand over his knee, "You're not. You're a good person, Edds."
He scoffed at the irrationality of her words, chuckling pitifully, "A good person, who's wanted for murder and grand theft auto... Kinda contradictory, ain't it?"
"Eddie, look at me... please," Stacy whispered, shifting on her seat as his tired eyes met hers.
It hurt.
It hurt to see him like this.
"Have you heard Dustin rambling on about how great of a friend you are? That always makes Steve jealous... He can talk about the campaign you came up with for hours. And about how courageous and outspoken you..."
"Stacy, I'm not coura..."
"Edds," Stacy interrupted him, knowing his answer lead only to denial. "You are. You take care of the misfit kids, you make them feel important. And that's something stupendous. Something monumental to admire..."
"You're using fancy words again," he chuckled at the habit he had grown so used to for the last half of a year.
"Because I mean it! And because... because it hits too close to home." Her voice lowered near the second sentence, causing Eddie to quiet down, waiting for her to explain what she meant by that. "You're the most astounding person I've ever met. A-and I had no idea I was like those freshmen you take under your wings... lost, and you've... you've made me feel wanted. I'll never be able to properly thank you for that."
With her last words, Stacy lifted herself up, embracing Eddie in a tight hug. She hadn't notice the sob that came through her body when she rested her head in the nape of his neck. It was only the single, sentimental tear that revealed the truth to her.
She wanted to say so much more.
Slowly pulling away, she put on her usual smile, wiping off her left cheek as she glanced back at him. He was silent.
It didn't trouble her, however, hence she didn't expect an answer. In fact, her priority was to make him feel better.
Therefore, taking a cassette out of her pocket, she offered one thing she knew would've always lighted him up, "Do you wanna listen to some music?"
Eddie awkwardly chuckled, showing his hands into his pockets.
"U-uh, about that..." he started, hesitantly taking out the Walkman she lend him a few days prior. "I've been meaning to tell you about this earlier but..." he never finished. He never meant to because it was self-explanatory. The moment he took the device out of his pocket and opened the tape disposal, a few drops of water poured down on the ground.
"Oh," Stacy bit her bottom lip.
"Well, it's been in water... twice," he stated, not being able to hold a steady expression as he watched her giggle. "You're not mad?" he asked, visibly confused.
"Eddie, we're going to fight outer-dimensional monsters. How could I be mad about a Walkman?" Her joke didn't come off as planned, hence his eyes rapidly sunken as he murmured a few words in agreement.
Awful stillness overwhelmed them once more. This time, however, it was due to the awareness what was awaiting... and what had happened a few hours before.
Guilt took over Stacy's thoughts as she recalled her indelicacy. Simultaneously, a sudden notion of bravery roamed through her mind.
"So..."
"Listen..."
They started in unison, busting in silent laughter at the atrocity of the situation.
"Go on, buttercup," Eddie smirked, flushing ever so slightly.
"No, you go first. I interrupted you," she disagreed, wanting to postpone the confession she was bound to make.
"What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn't let the fair lady speak?" he asked nonchalantly, masking the identical thought.
"The fair lady can wait," Stacy smiled, watching Eddie giving up on their pointless exchange of words.
"I, uh..." he started, his face hidden by his hair. "I wanted to apologize."
"What for? I've told you the Walkman..."
"It's not about that," he interjected, getting even more nervous than before. "I-It's about what happened in my trailer... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable and..."
"Oh, Eddie," Stacy cut off his rambling, coming to the conclusion their topics of the conversation aligned. "It's not like that... but I... I don't, shit. I have no clue how to phrase it."
Eddie let out a breath of understanding, nodding his head rapidly as he accepted his fate.
"You don't have to. It's on me I thought you could have been interested in someone like me... I-I really don't blame you, though. Let's just forget about it," he blabbered, getting more anxious with every word that left his mouth.
"No, fuck, no. That's not what I meant," Stacy panicked, realizing giving him mixed signals finally turned into an understatement.
His doe eyes widened as he murmured a coy, "No?"
This was it. Now there was no return.
"Eddie, I like you. Very, very much. But I just can't risk it now... Not now, when we're a few steps away from sure death," she stopped for a moment, feeling the salty tears covering her sight, her voice getting hoarse. "I-I... I don't know what's going to happen and I've seen so many terrifying, horrendous things that could happen because of this..." She threw her hands in the air, getting tangled up in her own words.
Her worst nightmare was coming true — destroying what was going on between them because of her inability to express her fears.
"I understand." Eddie's silent voice stopped the stream of her tears.
"You... really?"
He let out a chuckle, his fingers tangling with hers, "Partially, but I got used to you not making much sense anyway."
The look of acknowledgment he gave her was enough to calm her down. It was just as he could read her mind.
With trembling fingers, she raised up his hand, planting the most subtle and delicate kiss before she snuggled it up to her cheek as a nonverbal thank you.
"But after this hellish campaign is over and we're not playing live-action DnD, do I have permission to take you out for dinner?" he spoke softly, watching as Stacy's face lightened up.
"Dinners are a bit overrated, don't you think?" she replied challengingly, a wide smile covering up her whole face. "But... permission granted," she added in a chuckle.
"We need to go!" The ringing order of Steve beamed through the metal walls of the RV, causing both Eddie, Stacy and the kids to take back their seats. As they headed towards a destitute location, safe from jocks Nancy claimed they had acquainted in the weapon supply store, Stacy toyed with the cassette that was probably in the exact same conditions as her Walkman.
"That idea with Talking Heads," Robin started, her mind immediately traveling to the instance reminded her because of the tape. "Do you think it would've worked?"
Seated between Dustin and Eddie, Stacy tilted her head, ready to explain her reasoning, "It's merely an assumption... You know, Johnatan's a fan of them and they'd probably listened to their songs on repeat. Even if Nancy didn't like their music, she'd at least recognize it and have some pleasant memories of her and her boyfriend on mind. Even the bands you don't enjoy on your own can sound good if you're listening to them with someone you love..."
"So that's why you're wearing this T-shirt?" Robin chuckled, causing Stacy's cheeks to burn bright red. Hearing into the conversation, Eddie couldn't help but smirk.
"Even if I listened to Slayer with Tom Cruise, I'd still hate them with passion," she replied, trying to cover her expression.
"Ooh, someone's mad," Erica Sinclair pointed out in her usual manner. "Don't try to pretend that's not true. I've seen you throwing your arms over him a second ago!"
"She did what?!" Coming from the front the car, Steve's voice called.
"Eyes on the road!" Nancy scolded him.
"Excuse me? Why is this stray child bullying me?" Stacy huffed, rapidly crossing her arms.
"I might be a child but at least I'm not throwing a temper tantrum like a two-year-old," Erica snapped, a smile of victory on her face.
"Hey, hold your horses, Lady Applejack," Eddie smirked, visibly amused by the turn the conversation took.
"Oh? And who are you to give orders, you long-haired freak?" the little girl scoffed, her face vibrantly expressive.
"Steve! One of your kids is out of control!" Stacy called.
"She's got a point!" her brother answered her, purely entertained by what was going on in the back of the RV.
A few minutes in, he stopped the car on the top of a hill, just a fair distance from Hawkins. Taking out the supplies, Nancy once again divided the tasks amongst the group members.
Spread across the field, Stacy took her place in between her brother and Robin, setting up their homemade station for preparing the Molotov cocktails.
"This looks like a fifty-year-old man's formal attire," Stacy complained after Steve handed her a spare jacket they had bought for her at the War Zone. The brown leather that appeared slightly worn down despite being brand new, the U.S.A tag plastered to its sleeve, and even the zipper with the propeller manufactured on it... it all added up pretty quickly in Stacy's mind.
"Don't complain, fashion queen. Either that or you'll be running butt-naked in the Upside Down," Steve replied, placing the first can of kerosine fuel in front of him. "Chop, chop. We need to get to work, girls."
A blot of disgust took over Robin as she complained, "Ew, don't say that ever again."
"Ditto," Stacy shrugged before pouring the flammable substance into the bottle Steve was holding.
The first potion of ammunition didn't take long to finish. It certainly required less strength than what Dustin and Eddie were doing — hammering nails into the trash can lids. Focusing her eyes on them every now and then, a smile flourished her face each time she noticed the metalhead cracking a joke and the freshman bursting in laughter. The comforting picture brought serenity to her soul, as if simply watching them was substantially better than any other pleasantries. Glancing over the bickering Sinclairs and Nancy conversing with Max was equally sentimental.
It was just like she was stargazing — observing still points in the sky, knowing nothing could change the sight. Yet, the intrusive thoughts that swarmed around the dark scenarios displaying on the edge of her consciousness were like a ginormous meteorite, demolishing everything on its way.
Stacy would've lied if she claimed she didn't do anything in her power to stop herself from overthinking. Quite the opposite — she had tried every single method she could possibly come up with. Still, the only thing that brought her any sense of stillness was watching Eddie. Who, on the contrary, was now play-fighting his younger curly-haired friend.
She failed to see the subtle nudge Robin gave Steve before she claimed she was going inside the RV for another can of kerosine. Therefore, hearing Steve speak up for the first time in few minutes made her jump.
"He's a cool guy," he claimed out of nowhere, confusing his little sister.
"Who?"
"Oh, come on. You've been smiling at him this whole time," he explained, pointing at the silhouette in the distance. Stacy's mouth opened to prevent the awkward conversation, however, Steve spoke before her, "The way you look at him... the way he looks at you... I'm not gonna lie, it makes me kind of jealous no girl acted that way towards me."
"Steve..."
"Firstly, I hated it. You're my sister and of course seeing you romantically interested in anyone makes me want to barf, but... as an advice of an experienced older brother... Don't waste your chance," he finished his monologue, nostalgia coming over him.
"It's funny coming from you," Stacy chuckled, showing a cloth down the neck of the bottle.
"Why? Because my love life is a failure?"
"Geez, no!" Stacy squealed, jokingly hitting his shoulder. "Because we don't usually have this kind of talks."
Steve scoffed, giving his sister a side-eye, "That's 'cause you're an annoying little shit."
"And look at you... You've adopted four more of them," she replied, pointing at the Sinclair's, Max and Dustin.
"Talk to him, Stace," Steve returned to his previous point. "At least one of the Harringtons deserves to be happily head over heals," he added, patting her back.
"I need a cigarette," Stacy stated, getting back from her seat and heading to the opposite side of the van.
Crouching, head in her hands, she tried to reevaluate everything that was going on inside her head — her worries, her fears.
She wondered if her brother was right. If his statements were true. Taking a chance seemed so distant to her, so irrational at the brim of the battle they were going to endure. Simultaneously, Steve's words echoed in her mind, confirming each other with every second she reconsidered them.
"Your big brother told me you went for a cigarette... Is it invisible or something?" The voice that calmed her so many times before asked, seeming extraordinarily cheerful in comparison to the last few days.
Standing before her, Eddie Munson held a package of Red Marlboro's, one of his hands supporting his hip.
"Have you ever listened to Baba O'Riley by The Who?" Stacy wondered, her fingers mindlessly taking one of the cigarettes.
"Yeah. What kind of question is that?" Eddie chuckled, siting right beside her and he lend her his lighter.
"Did you know people confuse its title with Teenage Wasteland because the phrase repeats so many times in the song?" she asked, continuing her far-fetched statement. "To be honest, for the longest time I though this song was called that way, too. It fits well with the rest of their discography because most of them focus on the troubles of teenager-hood..."
"You sound like you're high," he smirked, watching her inhale the first puff of nicotine.
"Brings back memories, huh?" she joked as she handed him the cigarette. Shared, like the first time they smoked his supply together.
"Only back then I wasn't proclaimed Eddie the Banished."
"No one's even calling you that," Stacy giggled.
"Dustin does!" Eddie argued playfully, seemingly offended at her statement.
"All right, Eddie the Banished," Stacy shook her head in disbelief, continuing to smoke before adding, "I'm waiting ‘til someone'll address me as Stacy the Goblin Princess."
"That’s a shitty title to have," he claimed, pouting childishly.
"Didn't remember asking you what you think about it," Stacy scoffed dramatically.
"Atrociously uncreative if you will," he replied, not realizing the both of them got closer to each other during the span of their small bicker.
"You're the one that's atrocious," she chuckled, placing her head on his shoulder.
"Considering I came here to give you cigarettes? Totally."
Stacy took a deep breath to stop the small giggles from escaping her mouth, failing miserably as laughter devoured the both of them.
"I realized that I'm in an emotional destitute lately," she confessed out of the blue, moving a bit further to take a better look at him.
"Where's that coming from?" Eddie asked with a smirk on his face.
"The Who song," Stacy murmured. "Let's get together before we get much older," she sang quietly watching his confusion only furthering.
She couldn't believe her brother was right.
"I don't even listen to them that much but for some reason... Those lyrics have been stuck in my head ever since I got behind this goddamn RV," she disclosed, holding his hand before she hummed another line of the song, "Sally, take my hand. We'll travel south cross land."
"Did you just call me Sally?" Eddie bursted out, not being able to hold a serious expression.
"What else do you prefer? Buttercup maybe?" Stacy asked, her tone still hushed.
"Hey! Now that's stealing," he claimed as his arm wrapped around her waist.
"Right. That's atrociously uncreative as well," she giggled, her hands finding their way to his neck.
This time, she didn't close her eyes when she leaned forward. Tangling her fingers in between Eddie's hair, she pulled him ever so slightly towards her, however... it was him, who now backed away.
"A-and what about what you've said earlier?" he asked, making sure her decision was fully conscious.
"Decided I should change my mind... or rather Steve did," she explained softly.
"God, I'll be thanking him for the rest of my life," Eddie breathed out seconds before he draw her to his arms, their lips crashing.
Ever since Stacy had started fantasizing about this moment, she had never imagined it would've be that magical. With her hands in his hair, her body shifting to his lap as he supported her by the waist, Stacy felt the butterflies she thought to be captured in her stomach forever fly far above her head. In the hazy state of mesmerizing warmness, she deepened the kiss, allowing his lips to fully capture hers. She noticed she was smiling the whole time only when holding her expression became painful. Yet, there was no other way she would imagine to be whilst Eddie's hands moved higher to hug her even tighter. The uncomfortable position didn't bother them since their wet lips and short breaths were the only things they could focus on. Even the taste of the cigarette smoked before seemed to entirely evaporate, leaving only a sweet sensation of pleasure.
It was when Stacy realized the preparations for her early death were pointless.
They were, because now she was going to do everything to survive.
#eddie munson x oc#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x harrington!oc#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#joseph quinn#eddie munson death#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x y/n
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Starstruck- Dave Mustaine X OC Fanfiction (SATIRE)
My name is Autumn Raine. I have large green orbs that everyone says are cute, but I find atrocious. They make me seem too much like the other girls. 😔😔😔😔👎👎👎 I have a curvy body and large breasts that are appealing to most men, however, the other girls call me a whore.
I’m into metal music, and Megadeth is my favorite. I have a poster of Dave Mustaine on my wall. I love him. I need him. His firey red locks and pierced lips make me feel some kinda way. My father bought me Megadeth tickets, and I have never been happier.
It’s the day of the concert, I put on my most seductive outfit just in case Dave notices me. My dad calls me to the car and kiss my Dave poster goodbye.
I got front row seats so my chances of him laying his eyes on me are pretty high. As the concert starts, Dave walks out on stage and says hello to the crowd. He starts the concert by singing tornado of souls.
Dave had been looking at me all night. He ends the concert by singing sweating bullets. He says he’s gonna call someone onto stage to do a duet with him. He picks me!!!!😩😩😩😩😩😩 I walk onto the stage and he grabs my boobs. “Go ahead bbg” he says.
I sing my heart and lungs out. I could practically see tears in his eyes because of how beautiful it was. As I was about to walk of stage, he whispers in my ear “Meet me backstage😈😈” I practically creamed myself!
I walk backstage and head towards the dressing room. Dave greets me seductively and shows me the way towards his velvet couch. He pushes me down lightly and straddles my waist. He begins harshly kissing and sucking on my neck.
As he continues his attack on my flesh, and pulls on the hem of my shirt, signaling that he wants it OFF!🤯 I pull off my tshirt and he growls at h to e sight of my breasts. He groped them harshly and grinds his hips on mine. “Are you ready for my cock bbg” Dave growls. “Of course I am” I say. He rips of my panties and inserts his length into my pussy. I moan with pleasure and he grunts as he thrusts his hips against mine. I clench my walls and he screeches like an eagle. Before I know it I’m coming undone beneath him. He came shortly after me. We both sigh and he kisses me in the cheek. “What’s ur name again?” He asks. “Autumn Raine🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺” I respond. “ I like that, a pretty name for a pretty girl” I smile to myself and doze off. THE END!!!!!!!
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BOX OF CHOCOLATES
pairing : dave mustaine x oc
summary : abigail hetfield falls in love with dave mustaine, a person her brother has history with, and doesn't like. but winning his heart will be the only thing that makes her happy. but she doesn't want to be known, so she only has one solution. box of chocolates, and secret admirer letters.
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CHAPTER ONE : GAIL HETFIELD, THE SHADOWED ONE
September Twentieth, Nineteen Ninety-One!
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" ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I JUST CLEANED UP THIS FUCKING BUS! "
YOU COULD SAY ABIGAIL WAS IN some type of mood right now. She loved her brother, and she loved his bandmates, but god knows that she was tried of cleaning up their mess. She was one of the only girls on the crew for the upcoming tour for the black album, but that didn't mean that she had to be their cleaning lady all the time. It was absolutely infuriating and she didn't like it. And standing up for herself was not working whatsoever.
But like herself, the band had been through a lot since then. And she understood that sometimes everyone was in a mood for several different reasons. Five years since the death of their bassist, Cliff Burton, and having to replace him with another. Jason Newsted, who she constantly felt bad for because the other guys were so hard on him. But Gail had considered him to be her best friend.
But to the both of them, Metallica had been one of the best things that's ever happened to them. And Gail was really proud of her brother. She loved him to death. But sometimes, she hated being in his shadow. Of course, what would you expect being the little sister of a world famous singer and rhythm guitarist? But as it came down to it, she really didn't care anymore.
"Someone help me pick up this mess!" She commanded, hoping for someone to come forward.
"It's alright, Gail, I got this," Jason said to her, "You go with the other guys."
"Thanks Jase."
The bassist gave her a smile before walking to pick up the alcohol bottles that were left all over the bus. Gail was happy about this, because she had been making sure that everything was in tact for the tour. But it was really tiring. She just needed a break.
"Looks like someone's in a mood today."
"Shut up, James, I'm not in the mood," Gail said to him, "I'm fucking tired."
"No need to get snappy," James replied back, "I can see that for myself."
"Then leave me alone, alright? I just need to rest for a bit."
"Don't rest too long," said Kirk, "We're almost at the next venue."
Kirk was the guitarist that replaced Dave years earlier. He was sweet and all, but Gail was secretly still upset at the fact that Dave was fired. But she looked at Kirk like he was another brother. He was a huge nerd, which she absolutely loved, but Dave was the one who was in her heart. She had known him the longest.
"How long 'till we get there?" Gail questioned.
"Thirty minutes." He answered
"That's enough time for me."
Gail was just very exhausted. This tour was absolutely draining. All tours were, but there was something about this was the made her feel very exhausted. Maybe it was just the cluster of fans trying to meet the band and keeping them under control. The scheduling of some of the things they needed to do before leaving each city. She had done this many times before, but it was like she never got credit for the help.
She had dreams of her own. She wanted to have a band and be able to play her own music instead of listening to her brother's band all the time. They were great, don't get her wrong, it was just that she was stuck being a roadie for her older brother's band.
There were nights that she stayed up, writing music, trying to pitch in ideas with the other boys, but for some reason, they were always dismissed. Always dismissed her ideas, which was why she wanted to prove that girls could just rock as hard as boys in the metal scene.
Gail felt the bus come to a jolting stop. She opened her eyes out of fear, but thankfully, it wasn't what she thought she was. Ever since Cliff's death, she had been afraid of anything that was vehicle related.
"We're here!" Jason cheered.
"Already?" The blonde girl said, getting up from one of the spare beds on the bus.
"Told you. Thirty minutes," Kirk said back to her.
"Come on, sis, you gotta help us with this," James told her.
Gail scoffed, "Can the other roadies handle it?" She asked him.
"You do a better job! Now come on!" James replied as he got off the bus.
Gail only shook her heard before climbing off of one of the bunk beds and following her older brother into the venue.
If only she was just as famous.
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chapter forty-two: the first one is the deepest
allow me to retort.
*downs a gulp of coffee* if god wants to take me out, he’s gonna have to try harder than that
Sam had taken to the couch while Belinda offered to sleep on the floor next to Joey's bed. The one sole heavy blanket wrapped around her body proved to keep her warm enough against the slight draft there in the living room. She nestled her head down on the surface of the pillow and she closed her eyes once Joey had shut off the light for both girls.
She couldn't hardly shake the image of Joey from her mind: all posed naked on the chair and he let her feel him, feel every inch of him.
If only she could do more of it. If only she could make more drawings of Joey right then. And if only she could make him model for her and for her only; Belinda seemed to have fun drawing him, but she wished she could have him all to herself. Her muse. Her inspiration.
She rolled over onto her side so as to get comfortable but it was useless. She yearned for a soft touch somewhere on her body. Whether it was his or someone else's touch.
That soft touch upon soft touch.
She wanted nothing more than that softness once again. The feeling of Joey next to her. The feeling of Cliff next to her.
At some point, she drifted off and she opened her eyes to find herself back in her bed in Reno. She rolled over onto her back and next to her was the mysterious man with the stripe. He gazed back at her with a dark veil over his face and shoulders, and yet the stripe seemed so familiar. It had to be Alex, it was so obvious to her. But his face looked nothing like him: his nose was too straight and his eyes weren't as deep set, either. Either her mind was messing with her or it really wasn't him.
But he lay next to her with his hands right under the pillow and he stared on at her.
“Who are you?” she asked him and her voice drifted out as if she was on the ocean.
He parted his lips but no sound came out.
“Who are you?” she repeated as she reached out to him for a caress of his skin. Lighter than air. He felt like nothing. But he was anything but nothing.
“Who are you?” she repeated a second time
“Everything you need and are afraid of,” he replied in a gentle whisper of a voice.
“What do you mean?”
“I am everything that you need,” he repeated, “and I am everything that you are afraid of.”
She raised her gaze to the stripe on the crown of his head and she watched it turn from that pearlescent white to a solid black, and she remembered Cliff right then. She wished for him to appear right there right next to her. Indeed, his eyes sank back a bit and she watched the shape of his face change around a bit.
“Everything I need,” she echoed, “the man I love.”
“And then some,” he finished for her.
“But who exactly are you?” she asked him as she nestled closer to his body. “What's your name? Where did you come from?”
“I'm watching you as you go,” he said, nonchalant; he seemed to breathe his own name so she couldn't exactly hear it. His voice glided over her body like feathers, the finest feathers she wished to see from the crown of Joey's head.
“Watch me as I go,” she echoed it and her voice spread throughout the room as if the walls had been replaced with tile.
“I'm the one inside of you,” he told her. “Nothing more, nothing less. I want you to go the way you want to go.”
It was right then she gasped, but she never stirred away from the dream.
“Where should I go next?” she asked him, and she completely disregarded the stripe on his head.
“Where are we right now?” he asked her.
“In bed.”
“In your bed. Why are we in your bed?”
“Why do you look like Alex?” she asked him.
“Why are we in your bed?” he asked her as he disregarded her question.
“To sleep,” she replied.
“So you can sleep.”
“But why are you here?”
“That's what I want to know.”
“Why do you look like Alex?”
“Keep your attention to him,” he told her, and he closed his eyes so his eyebrows darkened and his hair spread out before him like a blanket. He never replied but his eye sockets deepened and he transformed into Alex's actual image right there. His dark hair spread over his round boyish face and the bed hardened underneath them into solid floor. The floor of the hole in the wall.
Alex opened his eyes and he scowled at her.
“Please don't kill me,” she whispered to him.
“I won't—as long as your boyfriend doesn't kill me,” he told her. His deep eyes stared right into her soul.
She thought about the hillside and the fire following the plane crash. She couldn't stop thinking about it, either.
“But he's not my boyfriend,” she insisted.
“You sure?” he asked her with a raise of those dark eyebrows.
“This is all in my head,” she assured him.
“You sure?”
“Positive. They told me the same thing about Frankie and he hasn't made a move on me—” She froze right in her tracks.
He then squinted his eyes at her.
“But wait. What about you?”
“What about me? I'm the guy your guy shoved into another guy.”
“You fell into grass, though,” she pointed out.
He didn't answer.
“Alex?”
His deep eyes stared back at her like the very darkness Joey had bestowed onto her. The deadly nightshade.
“Alex?” she whispered to him again.
“Samantha—” He then closed his eyes and he let the darkness cover them both.
“Alex?”
He didn't move and the floor softened up. She looked down to underneath her to find the sheets there. He was nestled up right next to her in bed. He felt like nothing but at the same time, she could feel the warmth of his flesh. The softness and slight roundness of his little eighteen year old body.
She rested a hand on his stomach to feel more of his warmth. Gentle and soft. She put her arm around his hip and she inched in closer to him. He never woke up but she did burrow her head underneath his chin to hear his heartbeat inside of his chest.
It was so cold outside and it was so cold inside the house, but she was warm and safe right there next to him. She ran her hand down his side and onto his hip: he was almost delicate to the touch. His body was beautiful: she only ever came across him a handful of times before and yet she found herself close to him.
She opened her eyes to find his skin had darkened with the cold sun. His gray streak vanished in lieu of more black curls. He had become Joey.
It was right there it made sense to her.
Cliff wasn't the man of her dreams: Joey was!
She brought her hands to the sides of his face to wake him up but he never flinched.
“Joey!” she exclaimed. “Joey!”
He never stirred. Sam patted the sides of his face. Nothing.
“Joey! Joey! Joey!”
She practically slapped him across the face but still with nothing.
And that was when she woke up. The gray light from outside the window washed over the room and all she could think about was Alex right next to her. She wished for him to be right in front of her once again and for Joey to be right behind her. The two of them to hold her, and yet Alex felt like nothing more than the very dream itself.
But at least now she knew who the mysterious man was, and he always came to her whenever she found herself at a tricky spot in life, and she knew that Marla was right.
She rolled over onto her back and both of her hands tingled. She lifted them out from underneath the blanket and shook them about to get the blood flowing once again. She closed her eyes once more and she fixed on the soft noises upstairs.
Belinda giggled. Joey whispered something and then she giggled again. She whispered something and then there was silence, and then he said something that got a laugh out of her. It went on for ten minutes, and at that point, Sam couldn't take another second of it and she pushed back the blanket. She sat upright in the middle of the couch and she continued to listen to them whisper things to each other and giggle like a couple of school girls.
She stood up and she kept the blanket wrapped around her shoulders as if it was a cape, and she padded up the stairs to the loft: the small but cozy space over the front of the apartment with a small bed for Joey to sleep in and a nightstand with a small lamp the size of a loaf of bread. She made out the silhouette of his slender hip and his shoulder under the blankets, but she couldn't hardly see his face or most of his black curls. Belinda lay flat on her back on the floor beneath him.
“—yeah, you and her totally should,” she was saying to him, and right then she lifted her head up. “There she is.”
Joey turned his head.
“Dearest Sam I am,” he greeted her. “What'chu doin' up this early?”
“I should ask you guys the same thing,” she said in a broken voice and with a rub of her eyes.
“Joey told me I looked like a porn star laying here on the floor,” Belinda told her.
“Just the way your hair was fanned out from your head and the way you were holdin' your chest,” he recalled with a smirk on his face. “You look like you should be in an adult magazine somewhere, Bel.”
“Oh, Joey, you only looked down at me 'cause I'm blonde,” she scoffed.
“Ehhh, just 'cause you're blonde doesn't mean I'll look at you even though that has a great deal to do with it.”
Sam's heart sank a little bit at the sound of that. He liked blondes, and so she looked on at her dark hair and wondered if her thoughts rang true with him anymore.
“Well, Sam looks like a porn star right there,” Belinda pointed out, “look at how she's holding that blanket around her body!”
“I be lookin',” Joey cracked with that smirk still plastered across his face.
“This blanket is so warm,” she told him as she adjusted the edges so they better covered her chest: even though she did have her brassiere on, she caught him looking in between her thighs.
“Isn't it? I take naps with that thing all the time and I always wind up laying there longer than I usually do 'cause of how warm it is.”
“A warm little blanket for a girl who's warm between the thighs.”
“Where did this come from?” she asked him as she moved in closer to the bed.
“After you touched me last night,” he told her, and he propped up the side of his head with his left hand. His eyes still drooped with sleep but the grin on his face told her a different story. He cleared his throat before he spoke again.
“After you touched me last night, I had a bit of an epiphany of sorts. I remembered what it was like to feel things before I started puttin' all my focus on hockey and making music. I want to have a good time for a good time. And even after you touched me all over and Bel here watched every moment of it, even after the fact it wasn't anything particularly hard core, I knew I wanted to go a little more rough around the edges.”
“As long as you don't drink,” she advised him.
“Yeah, as long as you don't drink, Joey,” Belinda added.
“I don't need a drink as long as I got my girls with me,” he declared.
“Girls!” Sam echoed.
“Girls? The both of us?” Belinda hoisted herself onto her elbows; the snake pendant glimmered a soft gold color in the face of the dim light.
“The both of ya's, yeah. If you don't mind at all. You girls are both artists after all.”
“True,” said Sam, even though she had no idea what he meant by that.
“You're artists in a sense that you carry an open mind.”
“And I do,” Belinda assured him as she gave her blonde hair a slight toss back, but Sam hesitated. She had lost Cliff not even a few months ago and she still had her moments in missing him. It almost felt too soon to even so much as think about doing it all over again. She needed to be ready for that sort of thing.
“You in, Sam?” Belinda asked her.
“I'll—think about it for a little bit,” she replied, reluctant, to which Joey shook his head.
“Take your time. You girls have school and Anthrax is only going for a couple of dates and then we're comin' right back to finish up the album.”
He then pushed himself up onto his elbow for a better look at them both. His black curls spread over his shoulder and onto his back: in its wake, his skin had a bit of a sheen to it, even in the dim light.
“Alright, who wants coffee?” he offered them.
* * * * *
Sam and Belinda stayed at Joey's place for a few more hours and then the latter decided it was best for them to head on back home. But he was insistent on going back to the City with them; when Sam asked him why, his response was, “just so I get to hang out with you girls a little longer.”
A four drive later and the three of them soon rolled back into the Bronx, which was blanketed a thick, fresh layer of pure white snow. Sam thought about the dream she had had the night before, and the feeling of laying next to Alex in her old bed: the white snow all around them made her think of the little sliver of gray in his hair. She had made the joke to Belinda in the months before but she was sure it served nothing more than that. But it was so clear and crisp in her memory, the feeling of her hand on his stomach and his chest, and the sight of that streak right up in her face like a little pearl.
The boy with the pearl in his hair.
Belinda pulled up to the front of Sam's building and they sat there for a moment longer in the warmth.
“Let me walk you upstairs,” Joey piped up as he unbuckled his seat belt.
“Oh, Joey, you don't have to—” Sam insisted.
“No, no—there's a foot of snow on the ground and it's freaking freezing out there, too.”
“Want me to come along?” Belinda volunteered.
“If you'd like,” Sam told her.
The three of them slid out to the snow and made their way up to the front door, where they were greeted by Aurora in what appeared to be a brand new crushed red velvet dress. The skirt fell down to her knees and hugged her hips and thighs all the while. The neckline hugged her chest and formed a low plunge so it showed off a lot of her skin. Aurora turned around and she showed off the back of the dress. Sam and Belinda gaped on at her and the way in which the belt fit upon her hips, as if it was hand crafted just for her. The crushed red velvet accentuated every part of her body: when she twirled about, the velvet appeared to change colors even though it was all of the exact same dark red wine color.
“Aurora, this is gorgeous,” Sam remarked as she brought a hand to her chest.
“You look like you're about to school me on being a proper lady,” Belinda added as she stood right before them.
“Emile got it for me,” Aurora told them. “Something to wear to Kirk's wedding next month.”
“Oh, shit, I've got to get something now,” Belinda said, and Sam's heart sank right then. She couldn't but feel that everyone was moving without her. Her boyfriend had been killed in the bus accident and everyone else had something to go with.
The three of them walked up to her apartment, and then she bode Joey and Belinda goodbye for now. She thought about what they were doing there on the floor of the loft: maybe if she could convince Marla to color her hair blonde then maybe he would want her more in the end. But then again, she couldn't imagine herself with blonde hair, and she had no idea if anyone around her would recognize her. It was one thing when Marla colored her hair every so often: that was her thing. No way she could copy her like that.
All the thoughts seemed to come out of nowhere like an eruption. But that dream she had had woke something in her. Something that wanted something more.
She was two weeks away from turning twenty two: there had to be something beyond art school and going in day in, day out there in the Bronx. She thought back to when she and Aurora drove to the park on Long Island: even in the darkness, even in the void that was the East River, she knew there was so much more to New York City than she had given it before. She moved out here for a reason, to start a brand new chapter in life but she only ended up in a groove and she lost her boyfriend in the process.
But if only there was a way.
She lifted her gaze to the window, right as the gray blanket across the sky lifted a bit for the sunlight. She still had on her boots; and thus, she grabbed her coat and the black hat, and she headed back outside to the snow. She knew where to go. It was a single subway ride away.
The frigid cold subway greeted her for yet another trip down to Manhattan.
She was once again the woman in black there with her hand clasped onto the rung over her head. The brim of the hat guarded her eyes from the intense yellow light on the ceiling. She closed her eyes and she tried to picture Cliff right next to her: the rains had rid the hat of his scent and so his memory already began to fade from her touch.
She stepped off the subway and she made her way up the stairs. More snow had laden upon the streets around her: she gazed up at the cold skyscrapers, even colder from the gray around her. She turned to the left and she strode down the block towards L'Amour. She recognized that book shop across the street, and she recognized that head of red hair, especially since it popped against the cold white and gray around her.
He halted right in his tracks: tendrils of red hair billowed about his head and twirled in the updraft of wind. She thought about that morning she caught Zelda and Louie together, that same morning she made Cliff that cup of Mexican hot chocolate. His smooth lips curled up into a smile at her and he shuddered inside of his coat against the cold wintry wind.
“Hey, Dave,” she greeted him.
“Hey—Sam, right?”
“Yeah. Sam I am.”
He chuckled at that and he gestured to the shop before them.
“Coming in here with me?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, and he held the door for her.
“We can sit in here and read something, too,” he added, and they were greeted by a blast of warmth from the heater over their heads. Indeed, she spotted a pair of chairs behind the table in the middle of the room. Dave was quick to take a seat in the one on the right; while she hovered right next to the edge of the table.
“Have a seat,” he encouraged her with a gesture to the chair opposite him, but she still stood there next to him. She glanced down at the books, and she spotted the one closest to him. Siddhartha from Hermann Hesse. She thought back to that hot afternoon when Cliff read a passage from it to her.
“Sometimes all you need when in New York is a book to read,” he told her. “Ellefson and I finally found our way out of that studio and into places of our own—finally!”
“Yeah, yeah...” Her voice trailed off. Such a distant memory, but it felt so close at the same time. She stood right where Cliff stood on that day. So close and yet so far away from her.
“What's wrong?” he asked her, and he knitted his eyebrows together at her. She had sworn that she cried out all her tears, but it was that very spot that coaxed out even more for her. She reached out for the book, bound in blue and with a little photo of a brass Buddha in the middle.
“I miss Cliff so much,” she whimpered.
“I miss him, too,” Dave replied in a soft voice, and he reached up for a stroke of her shoulder. “He was one of my best friends. Last time we spoke he told me he didn't want me to leave Metallica and even though he was happy with Kirk, he sort of wanted me back.”
Sam sniffled and rubbed the tip of her nose.
“You should do something as a tribute to him,” she suggested. “Anthrax are in the process of it.”
“I did,” he said.
“You did?”
“The second the news broke I just sat down with my guitar and a pad of paper and I wrote down my thoughts. I was in my darkest hour when I wrote them down—at least mentally speaking. I'm recording it, too.”
“Everyone's making tributes to Cliff,” she sniffled, and she felt the tears burning her eyes.
“He was the best friend we all took for granted,” he said, and she could see the tears in his eyes as well. “Dunno if Metallica is, though—I haven't heard a peep from Lars since October.”
“He was my first boyfriend,” she told him. “Cliff was.”
“The first one is always the deepest. I would know, too.” He chuckled at that but he also shook his head.
“I guess I'm just sheltered,” she muttered.
“You're not. I can tell right away you aren't. I mean, you made the bold move to move up here to the Northeast by yourself, thousands of miles from your parents, all because you wanted a life. And I can tell you that the first one, the deepest one, will wake you up more than you can ever dream of. Trust me on that.”
She stuck her thumbs into the pages. If she only knew where Cliff had pulled that quote from, and if only she recalled what that quote even was. She turned it over to check the price and she shrugged.
Might as well get it for herself: for all she knew, that was the very copy that Cliff himself had picked up.
Within time, they stood outside in the snow with their new books.
“So you gonna be here in New York long?” she asked him over the noise of the street.
“Only for a couple of more days,” he replied as he adjusted the lapels of his coat. “Just talking to Jon about some things and then I go back to California to record some more.” They walked on back to the subway and, once they reached the platform itself, he turned to her with a concerned expression on his face. “Would you like someone to come home with you?”
“No, I'm good,” she told him as she put her arms around him. “You gonna be alright, though?”
“Sam, I'm a few years older than you and I feel like I've been alive for a thousand years. I'll be more than alright.” He flashed her one last wink and then he walked on past her to the train that awaited him. She returned home to read that book with a cup of coffee for herself.
Later that day, Joey returned to her apartment with a grave look on his face.
“So we're leaving tomorrow morning—first thing, bright and early, down to Philly.” He sighed through his nose and ran his fingers through his black curls. Those same black curls that she had felt around in the mere day before.
“By the way, where is Kirk's wedding?”
“Out in San Francisco, I think. I gotta check with Scott to make sure. We're all gonna be wearin' monkey suits and red dresses.”
“Okay,” Sam sighed, and she threw her arms around Joey's slender little body. He returned the favor to her. Much like Alex in her dream, he was slender, but warm and soft to the touch. Soft despite years of playing hockey and banging on the drum kit for hours on end. Soft despite the alcohol. Soft despite being the outsider and the rough country boy. He was still soft even in the face of everything. She wanted that softness to stay with him.
“Please be safe,” she begged into his ear. “Please, please be safe.”
She could feel something on the side of her neck. Something soft and smooth, and he lifted his head to her ear.
“We'll be back before then but I'll get you something for your birthday,” he vowed to her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered back into his ear, “deadly nightshade.”
He chuckled at that and he pulled back for one last look at her for a few seconds. Those brown eyes swallowed her whole, and in those eyes, she saw Cliff, and with Cliff, she saw heaven. And it took Joey's venom for her to realize that.
#fanfic#fanfiction#anthrax fanfic#anthrax#megadeth#joey belladonna#joey belladonna x oc#dave mustaine#deadly nightshade#book two#chapter 42#long reads#m/f romance#slow burn#also on ao3#also on wattpad#writing#text#oc tag
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
part 01 of 06 | masterpost
word count: 5,1k | ao3 link | fic's playlist
✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, grief, mxf sex, unprotected sex
✦ a/n: The epilogue's finally here! As I said before, I had to split it into a few parts because it turned out really long and I wanted to tie all loose ends lol I haven't finished writing it yet, but I'll try to keep posting twice a week. Many things will have changed in this, since it's set mostly in 1992. We will have some flashbacks, but I dated all the parts so it wouldn't get confusing. Hope you enjoy the read, feedback is welcome! ❤
December 31, 1991
San Francisco in December hit me with that familiar chill as soon as I stepped off the plane; I quickly slipped on my gloves and shrugged into my coat, letting out a sigh as the cold nipped at my nose and fogged up my breath. It felt weird being back after so long, back to the city where I'd lived, loved, and grown up all those years ago.
I’d bid farewell to San Francisco two years back when my art career started picking up steam, making the move to LA seem like the logical next step. Coming back to the city stirred up a pain that ran deep in my bones — a constant reminder of the happiness I once knew but could never quite recapture, a bittersweet flashback to all I'd experienced — and all that had slipped away.
Lars had invited friends and family for a massive bash at his vacation home, ringing in the end of the year and welcoming 1992 with a bang. I had a hunch the extravagant party had something to do with his recent divorce, after a rushed marriage which had barely lasted two years. He'd even sent his driver, Simon, to scoop me up from the airport.
It was a relief not to have to wrangle a taxi amidst the chaos of folks flying in for the last flights before New Year's Eve. Slipping into the Jaguar, I peeled off my sunglasses with a sigh; those shades had become my shield against being recognized in the last few months. Ever since I'd started doing TV gigs, getting spotted by strangers and paparazzi was becoming a regular thing. It came with the territory, sure, but sometimes, a girl just wanted a little peace and quiet.
"Good afternoon, Miss Burton," Simon greeted me with a smile as I hopped into the car, and I shot one right back at him. "Mr. Ulrich was really looking forward to your arrival."
"Thanks, Simon. Are the others already there?" I inquired, my gaze drifting out the window as we cruised away from the airport.
"Yes, Mr. Hammett and Mr. Newsted are. Mr. Hetfield will show up later; I'll swing back to get him after dropping you off. And Miss Summers won't be joining us."
I let out a sigh. Ever since Cliff had passed, Leanne had drifted away from the group, moving to another city and cutting most ties. She said it hurt too much to stick around — too many reminders of him . I got where she was coming from and harbored no hard feelings, but her absence had definitely put some distance between us over the years.
"Well, I'll have to shoot her a call later and wish her a Happy New Year," I mused absentmindedly. "Do you know if my aunt and uncle are gonna make it?"
"Yes, I'll pick them up later," Simon replied, earning a small smile from me. Despite Cliff's passing hitting us all hard, Aunt Jan and Uncle Ray had been a steady presence for me and the guys. They'd practically become like second parents to all of us over the years, always there in the Metallica routine, whether it was on the professional front or at family and friends' get-togethers.
It took us a bit to roll up to Lars' vacation home, a big old mansion tucked away in one of San Francisco’s most expensive neighborhoods, a far cry from the tiny house we used to live in back in the day. Simon pulled up at the main entrance; the door was wide open, and I caught a glimpse of the staff buzzing around, putting the final touches on the shindig. Judging by the crates of booze being unloaded, this was gonna be more than just a cozy New Year's bash with a few friends.
"Thanks for the ride, Simon," I said, grabbing my bag and popping open the car door. "Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year, Miss."
It didn't take me long to spot Lars; the moment I stepped into the foyer, there he was, barking orders to his assistant at lightning speed, champagne glass already in hand. I couldn't help but grin; classic Lars, hitting the booze before anyone else. He turned my way at the sound of my footsteps echoing on the polished floor, breaking into a smile as he strode over.
"Nore!" he exclaimed, pulling me into a bear hug. "I'm so stoked you made it."
"Hey, Lars," I grinned, returning the hug. It had been a hot minute since I'd seen him or any of the guys; 1991 had been a whirlwind for all of us, and work had pretty much consumed our lives at warp speed.
"How was the trip? Did Simon take good care of you?"
"Yeah, it was smooth sailing. Simon's a pro, always has been. But seriously, Lars, you shouldn't have him grinding away on the last day of the year."
"Oh, he's getting compensated handsomely for it, don't you worry. Hey, you remember your way around the house, right? Kirk and Jason are probably chilling in the sauna. Oh, Allie!" Lars called out to his assistant, a dark-haired girl who looked eager to please. "Got the guest list handy? Can you show our girl here where she'll be crashing tonight?" Allie nodded briskly, and Lars flashed me a smile, turning back to me. "Party kicks off at 9 PM, so I'm just tying up loose ends. Make yourself comfy, grab some grub if you're hungry, alright? Consider the place your own."
I trailed after Allie to my room, a fancy suite with a king-size bed that looked like it had never been slept in. Lars always had a flair for the extravagant, but Metallica's success in recent years seemed to have kicked that into overdrive; his new vacation house was straight-up lavish, with more rooms than I could count, a massive pool, a sauna, and even a private movie theater.
I decided to chill in my room until the party kicked off; as much as I was itching to catch up with everyone, I was straight-up wiped out. Lately, I'd been craving more time alone, away from the chaos of the ragers my friends used to live for. But hey, I knew we'd all cross paths eventually, and sure enough, when I finally made my grand entrance, one of the first faces I spotted was Kirk's, rolling in with James, who apparently had arrived while I was hiding out.
"Nore!" Kirk grinned, pulling me into a hug. I chuckled, hugging him back. "Damn, you're looking good!"
"Thanks, Kirk. It's all Lars' doing; he picked out the dress," I replied, nodding at the long red number I was sporting. I’d found it laid out on the bed in my room with a note telling me to rock it for the night. I eyed Kirk's suit, a slick navy number with gold accents. "You're looking sharp yourself."
"Yeah, that's all Lars' handiwork too. Dude's on a mission to throw the ultimate party. But hey, who am I to complain? There's champagne!" Kirk chuckled, clinking his glass against mine.
"Hey, Nore." I glanced up at the sound of his voice, meeting James' intense blue gaze. A faint smile tugged at my lips; being around him always stirred up a whirlwind of emotions that were hard to untangle. Love, sure, but also heartache. It stung, yet it felt oddly comforting. Like coming home.
"Hi, James," I greeted him softly. Kirk shot us a quick look.
“Well, I'm gonna go track down our host. Catch you guys later!" He excused himself. I watched Kirk saunter off, a slight jolt running through me as James' hand landed on the small of my back.
"Have you grabbed a bite to eat yet? Lars said you got here before me," he murmured, his voice low. I looked up at him, seeing his eyes scanning the crowd of guests, a champagne flute in his other hand.
"Not yet."
"Want me to snag something for you? Lars went all out with the spread this time."
"I'm good, James."
"Didn't drag your boyfriend along to the party?" he quipped, and I couldn't help but snort.
"What boyfriend?"
"That... Brian guy? I dunno, it's hard to keep up with all the dudes you've cycled through since we split," he remarked, a hint of irony dancing in his eyes. I furrowed my brow; was he joking or dead serious? It was getting tougher to read James these days.
"If you wanna know if I'm seeing someone, just ask," I shot back sharply. He let out a sardonic laugh and rolled his eyes. I held his gaze. "And what about your 'Nothing Else Matters' chick? She bailed on the party?"
"I ended things with her," he replied, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. "And I've told you that song wasn't about her."
"Then who was it about?"
"Do I really need to spell it out?" he growled, stepping closer. I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze head-on. James and I had been locked in this dance for a while now, his anger clashing with my pain like sparks flying. It didn't shock me that Kirk wanted no part of our little reunion.
"I'm gonna go track down Lars," I tossed back dryly before strutting off. I could practically feel James rolling his eyes as he polished off the rest of his champagne in one gulp.
I didn't cross paths with James again until much later, well after midnight had come and gone. We’d all gathered on the balcony to catch the fireworks, dishing out Happy New Year wishes and hugs left and right. When the crowd filtered back inside, I lingered behind, a cigarette dangling between my fingers as I stared up at the star-studded sky, grappling with the bitter irony that another year had kicked off without Cliff here to see it.
"I did wanna know, actually," a voice cut through the silence, jolting me. I turned to find James leaning against one of the pillars, his gaze fixed on me with a serious edge.
"What?" I murmured, my heart picking up its pace as he closed the gap between us.
"You said if I wanted to know if you were seeing someone, I just had to ask. And I did wanna know," he replied, so close now I could smell the booze on his breath.
"I'm not," I answered, and he grunted, satisfied, before pulling me into his arms, his lips finding mine.
He tasted like beer and tobacco, his lips moving against mine in a familiar dance, the echoes of an old tune. No matter how much time passed or how much it hurt, James and I always found our way back to each other.
"You know that song was about you," he murmured, his kisses trailing down my neck, his grip tightening on my hips as he pulled me closer, our bodies pressed together. "Do you really have to mess with me like this?"
I didn't answer; instead, I grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him back to me, his arms holding me tight as he kissed me with urgency, nipping at my lower lip. He wasn't holding back as he pushed me against the balcony railing, his hands hiking up the skirt of my dress, his touch igniting a fire in my belly.
"My room or yours?" I gasped against his lips.
"Does yours come with a bathroom?" he quipped, and I chuckled softly, nodding. "Figures. Lars always hooks you up with the best ones."
"Mine, then," I murmured, a faint smile playing on my lips.
We made our way up to my room, James guiding me through the labyrinth of hallways and rooms in the house with his hand in mine. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, his hands were back on me, pulling me close as his lips trailed hungrily along my neck, tugging at the straps of my dress.
"James, you're gonna wreck the dress..." I protested weakly, my fingers tangled in his hair. He grunted, yanking it down, and I heard a rip that probably meant the garment was already ruined anyway.
"I'll get you another one," he grumbled. "As many as you want."
With urgency matching his, I stripped off his shirt, a few buttons popping off and bouncing across the bedroom floor. Before I could even blink, he lifted me, depositing me on the bed and positioning himself over me. I kicked off my heels, sending them flying into some forgotten corner, releasing a low moan as he pressed against me, his arousal evident through the fabric of his pants. There was no time for calm contemplation, no room for hesitation or second-guessing if this was the right move; our desire for each other was insatiable, ravenous and desperate, and I felt it would consume me completely if we didn't satisfy it right then and there.
I sighed as his lips reclaimed mine, his hand tangled in my hair, gripping it firmly as I worked on unbuttoning his pants, easing them down. He pulled back for a moment, shedding the rest of his clothes before sliding off my panties, emitting a low groan as he entered me. I shut my eyes, clutching onto his arms tightly, my nails digging into his skin. He wasn't holding back; and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Look at me," he growled, his hand guiding my chin as he thrust into me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I obeyed, meeting his gaze as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, my mouth slightly agape as I let out small, sharp moans. He shifted his hand to my neck, pressing his forehead against mine.
"James..." I moaned, my grip on his arms tightening as he picked up the pace, sending shivers down my spine. "James..."
"I wanna ruin you. You get that?" he growled, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body at his words. Of course, I got it. What were we if not each other's downfall? What more could I want than for him to consume me entirely, even if just for a moment? For all the pain and heartache to vanish, if only while he was inside me. "I want you to be mine, all mine, all mine... Fuck..." he buried his face in my neck as my climax washed over me, my body clenching around him, my legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him deeper. "Nore..." he groaned, his own release crashing over him, filling me completely as he continued to move until the intensity of his peak forced him to collapse onto me.
He rolled away, settling beside me, leaving a pulsating void inside me where pain and pleasure danced together in my womb and heart. I shut my eyes, focusing on steadying my breath, and let out a soft chuckle when I felt his lips on my neck, his arms pulling me close in a fleeting but genuine comfort.
"My girl..." he murmured against my ear, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. I'd lost track of how many times he'd called me that, but it never failed to stir something in me. "Why do you keep running from me? Don't you know I love you so?"
I opened my eyes, locking onto his gaze, a blend of longing and yearning reflected back at me. Nestling into his embrace, I placed a soft kiss on his lips, feeling his gaze soften into a tender warmth that sent tingles down my spine.
"I'm here now," I murmured, tracing my fingers gently over his face. He sighed, closing his eyes, intertwining our hands and pressing kisses to my palm, one, two, three times before pulling me close in a tight hug.
Peace hadn't been a frequent visitor in my life for a while, but in that moment, I found it. I'd always find my way back to James, and he'd always find his way back to me. That certainty coursed through my veins, leaving me feeling whole in a way I hadn't in ages.
The next day, we'd be back in the spotlight, the distance between us creeping back in like a toxic fog. But for now, on that night, I was content. I was at peace.
I was home.
September 28, 1986
The shrill ring of the phone pierced through the silence of the empty house, yanking me out of a deep slumber with a groan. I blinked, the heavy rain drumming against the bedroom windows registering in my foggy mind. Stretching out across the bed, I groped for James, only to remember he wasn't there; my boyfriend was off on tour with my cousin and my friends. That left just Leanne and me holding down the fort.
Dragging myself out of bed, my eyes still weighed down by sleep, I shrugged into my robe and slipped on my slippers before trudging out of the room, descending the stairs at a snail's pace. Flicking on the lights in the living room, I scowled at the clock — it wasn't even seven in the morning. This better be an important call, I grumbled inwardly. I was itching to crawl back under the covers.
"Hey," I mumbled, stifling a yawn and rubbing my eyes in an attempt to shake off the sleepiness.
"Hey, Nore," James' voice crackled through the receiver, but in my grogginess, I barely registered the tense undertone, so unlike his usual laid-back demeanor.
"Babe..." I murmured, another yawn threatening to escape. "I know you're in a different time zone, but it's way early here. I was out cold..."
"I'm sorry. I had to call," he replied, and this time, the strain in his voice didn't go unnoticed. I furrowed my brow, sinking down onto the couch beside the phone, suddenly wide awake.
"Is everything alright? Did something happen?"
"Yeah, something happened. Is Leanne there with you?"
"I think she's asleep. Why?"
"We had a crash," he said, and my heart clenched, a surge of unease and dread knotting my stomach. "We were on the road... Late at night. The driver lost control..."
My breath hitched, and in that instant, a sense of foreboding washed over me. Something felt off, deeply unsettling. It just didn't add up. I knew I should be getting this call from someone else. I knew my cousin; I knew Cliff would want to speak to me and Leanne directly, to break the news himself.
Like when he shared he was leaving Long Beach for San Francisco. Like when he announced he was joining Metallica. Like when he called to tell me Dave got booted from the band, or when he rang to say Metallica was wrapping up tour and he wanted me there for their first hometown gig after dropping the first album.
Something wasn't right.
"James," I whispered, my voice trembling, tears pricking at my eyes as if I already knew what he was going to say. "What happened to Cliff?"
January 1st, 1992
I jolted awake, my cheeks damp with tears that refused to cease flowing. I sighed heavily, my breath shaky, the early morning sunlight just beginning to seep through the curtains. James' arms were wrapped snugly around me, his breath warm against my shoulder as he softly snored.
That dream, again.
It always seemed to resurface whenever I was near James. Maybe my subconscious still linked him to that chilly morning, to that phone call that’d shattered any hope of happiness for the rest of that year and beyond. A call that tore a hole in the fabric of my world, leaving an ache in my heart that felt like it would never mend.
The call that had shattered my heart for good, leaving no chance of putting the pieces back together.
I carefully shifted James' arm away from me, slipping out of bed and heading to the bathroom. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I took in my tired blue eyes framed by dark circles, my brown hair tumbling in waves over my shoulders, and the red marks on my neck and collarbone left by James the night before. With a sigh, I opened the bathroom cabinet, my hands trembling slightly as I reached for the pills I knew would help ease my anxiety.
I lacked the courage to return to bed, so I nestled into one of the armchairs in the corner of the room, observing James' peaceful slumber as the daylight gradually filled the space. He stirred awake soon after, as if sensing my absence beside him, his eyelids fluttering before he groggily opened his eyes. With a puzzled frown, he reached out for the bed, only to find it empty, prompting him to scan the room. A sigh escaped him when he spotted me, a sense of relief washing over his features that tugged at my heartstrings.
"Bad dream?" he inquired, and I simply nodded in response. "You wanna hop back into bed?"
"I'd rather not risk slipping into another nightmare," I admitted, and he sighed, sitting upright.
"Well, I know a surefire way to keep you awake, if you're interested," he quipped, and I managed a shaky laugh. I much preferred this relaxed and caring version of James to the sarcastic and irritable one from the night before. "So, spill. What was haunting you this time?"
"The usual. That day," I murmured. It wasn't anything new; I'd replayed that nightmare countless times, and James was well aware. My demons weren't a mystery to us, but that didn't make them any less terrifying.
With a sigh, he got up and strolled over to me, scooping me up effortlessly, which elicited a surprised gasp from me. He carried me back to bed, settling me down beside him, his hand securing my waist while the other supported the underside of my thighs, lifting one leg and tucking it around his waist. I hugged him tightly, nuzzling into his chest. It was a brief moment of warmth and solace, a fleeting calmness that I knew would vanish as soon as the day kicked into gear and he walked out that door.
"Are you taking off today?" I whispered softly. I understood that once James and I dove back into our regular routines — fame, commitments, the whole mess — things would get complicated again. I'd lose him once more; I'd been through that too many times in the last few years to entertain any other outcome. But as long as we were together, there, shielded from everything else, he was mine. And I craved his presence. I craved his warmth.
"Do you want me to jet today?" he countered, and I shook my head no. He grumbled under his breath, the rumble vibrating against my cheek as I snuggled closer. "Then I'll hang tight. I suppose we can annoy Lars a bit longer."
"I'm too scared to doze off," I admitted weakly, grappling with the heaviness of my eyelids, which threatened to seal shut from exhaustion. James planted a kiss on the top of my head, gently stroking my hair.
"I ain't budging. If you slip into that nightmare again, I'll be right here when you wake up. Deal?" he whispered, and I nodded.
I knew that as soon as I drifted off, that same haunting dream would likely rear its ugly head. It was just one more cruel reminder of the growing chasm between James and me. It felt like we were broken, perpetually out of sync, and his nearness both healed and wounded me in equal measure. But in that moment, I was willing to bear the pain if it meant he'd stick by my side.
"I love you, Jamie," I murmured, and he sighed, pulling me close as my body surrendered to sleep.
"I love you too, Nore," his voice was the last thing I heard before drifting off.
February 18, 1992
The bouquet of red roses James had given me was beginning to droop, the once vibrant petals shriveling and browning with each passing day. Yet, the fragrance lingering in the air remained sweet and evocative, as if the flowers were still in full bloom.
I sighed as I ran a brush through my hair, eyeing the dress laid out on the bed for the evening bash. It was the launch party for the new TV network schedule I'd been hired for, and showing up was not just a courtesy but a must.
I hadn't crossed paths with James much since our time at Lars' getaway spot. His absence had become a familiar ache over the last few years, a kind of shield we'd unintentionally built between us over time. Yet, there was always that tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd call out of the blue and bring back that sense of ease with his voice.
To my surprise, the phone did ring that day. I set the brush down on the vanity, hurriedly making my way to the bedside table to answer it, a rush of excitement coursing through me.
“Nore?” the voice on the other end wasn't James', but it still warmed my heart, prompting a smile to spread across my face as I sank back onto the bed, cradling the phone to my ear.
“Lea!” I exclaimed, feeling a surge of joy. “It's been too long! How've you been?”
“I'm great! And you?”
“Oh, you know. Just hanging in there. How's Joe?” I swiftly changed the subject. As much as I adored Leanne, I wasn't ready to spill my guts about how I was really feeling.
“Oh, he's doing fantastic. Actually, that's why I rang you up. We're getting married!” she announced, her excitement palpable, and I couldn't help but smile.
“Lea, that's incredible! When's the big day?”
“It's in August. We figured summer would be perfect. I'm calling to extend the invite; would you do me the honor of being one of my bridesmaids?”
I leaped up, my grin stretching wider across my face. Leanne and I had been thick as thieves since day one; seeing her so thrilled about tying the knot, and knowing she wanted me to be part of her big day, warmed my heart.
“Oh, absolutely!” I exclaimed, a bubbling laugh of joy and surprise escaping my lips. Lea chuckled in response, matching my excitement. “Thank you! I know it's going to be beautiful. Can you fill me in on all the details later?”
The rest of my day sparkled with newfound energy after the news; I even caught myself humming an old song as I finished getting dolled up for the evening bash, weaving my hair into an intricate hairdo my mom had insisted on teaching me.
When I finished getting ready, I checked myself out in the mirror, pretty pleased with the result; the dark blue spaghetti-strap dress hugged my curves just right, with the skirt flaring out at the waist and skimming down to my ankles. A dainty golden choker with crystals adorned my neck, and my long brown locks were styled to perfection, framing my face in all the right places, with my eyes sparkling, cheeks a touch flushed, and lips painted red.
But, of course, I couldn't roll up to an event like that on my own; right on the dot at 7 p.m., I heard the honk signaling my ride had arrived. I sauntered down the stairs, arching an eyebrow in surprise as I stepped outside and spotted the limo parked up front. My old friend Charlotte rolled down the window from the backseat, flashing me a big grin.
“Hey, Nore!” she chirped as I slid into the car, handing over a glass of champagne, which earned a soft chuckle from me. “Ready to rock?”
“I guess I’m a bit jittery. First time going to a party like this one,” I admitted. Now that I was on my way, the thought of facing a swarm of photographers and journalists at the event’s entrance was making me more nervous than I cared to admit, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.
“Well, it's gonna be a blast, trust me! Everyone who's anyone will be there. I'll be your wingwoman, so don't worry about a thing. I'll make sure you rub elbows with all the big shots you haven't bumped into yet during the shoots.”
I nodded, taking a bit of champagne to settle my nerves, the bubbles dancing on my tongue and momentarily diverting my attention. If my acting career was taking flight now, it was all thanks to Charlie; she'd been the driving force behind my return to the scene after I’d graduated High School, persuading me to switch gears from the Visual Arts program up in San Francisco to Drama School down in Los Angeles, and had even helped me snag my first TV gig.
I'd recently jumped into acting over at the same TV network where Charlotte had been working as an actress for a while. Even though I hadn't wrapped up recording my first project yet, the buzz around a relatively unknown actress snagging the lead in the latest drama series had caught the media’s attention. In just about a year, my life had changed completely, going from being just another face in the crowd to even having paparazzi tail me. But truth be told, I was still getting the lay of the land at the network. Charlie had hit the nail on the head; this party was prime time to make some connections.
We rolled up to the party spot; I soon realized that navigating through the sea of photographers and reporters on that red carpet was no joke. But once I got past the Q&A, which mostly revolved around my work and career, it was time to get down to business. Charlotte ushered me into conversations with all sorts of folks: actors, musicians, executives, and even some of the network's shareholders. It hit me quick that networking at these parties was just as much a part of the job in the entertainment industry as being good at your craft.
The hours zoomed by amid chats, laughter, drinks, and nibbles. Soon, I was feeling drained and decided to grab a bite from the buffet before taking a breather. As I was fixing my plate, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, expecting it to be Charlie, ready to introduce me to someone new.
Never in a million years could I have guessed what awaited me in the next few seconds.
"Nore... Is that really you?" the man exclaimed, looking utterly astonished, and suddenly I was eighteen again, my heart racing in completely uncontrollable pirouettes as my breath hitched, my surprised gaze meeting his, the world filling with color and song as I stared into the eyes of Dave Mustaine.
✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
part 05 of 06 | masterpost
word count: 8,2k | ao3 link | fic's playlist
I sighed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks as I sensed a kind of understanding forming between the three of us, albeit slowly; Dave and James were like two sides of the same coin, always had been, brothers of fire and anger even before all their pain had driven them apart. Was it such a shocker that they'd both end up falling for the same woman? Was it such a surprise that I'd end up loving them both?
Maybe we always knew it would eventually lead to this.
✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, threesome, mxfxm sex, dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, unprotected sex, oral sex, drug issues mentioned, alcoholism, drinking
✦ a/n: Hey, everyone! So, this chapter turned out a bit longer too, but I couldn't wrap up the fic without throwing in this smut scene at least once. Honestly, it's one of my favorites in the whole story! Oh, and in case you haven't noticed - yeah, Leanne's husband is Joe Sinclair. He popped up in some earlier chapters as Lea's friend who had that cool beach house where they celebrated Cliff's birthday and where James first kissed Nore at Lea's birthday party. Next part's gonna be the finale, and I swear we're finally getting a happy ending after all the drama lol Thanks for sticking around and reading, feedback is appreciated! ❤
April 6, 1992
Dave and I came back from our weekend getaway even more head over heels for each other, if that was even possible. Now that our feelings were out in the open, any walls between us just crumbled away, leaving us with one undeniable truth: I was crazy about him, and he felt the same way about me. Life had never felt so simple.
Life had also never felt so damn complicated; come Monday, things took an unexpected turn when Lars unexpectedly dropped by. He showed up at my place bright and early, his usual chill vibe replaced with a hint of worry that had me wondering what was up.
"Hey, Lars. Come on in, I was just munching on some breakfast," I gestured for him to enter, stepping aside. He gave a somewhat tense smile and took a seat at the kitchen table, setting his backpack down. "Hungry? I've got pancakes, orange juice, some fresh sliced watermelon..."
"Just water, thanks. I grabbed a bite earlier," he replied, flashing a quick smile when he noticed my concern.
"If you're all fueled up, what's with the serious face?" I inquired. "Something happened?"
"Actually..." he trailed off. I plopped down at the table, sliding a glass of water his way and pouring myself some juice, giving him a curious glance. "You catch the news today?"
"News?" I furrowed my brow, and Lars let out a sigh, seeming resigned. He unzipped his backpack, pulling out a magazine and passing it over to me. I blinked at him, puzzled, before focusing on the publication.
What I saw left me gaping in disbelief.
The magazine was one of those gossip rags, the kind I never bought because I had never been interested in such stuff. If I didn't expect Lars to read this kind of thing, I certainly didn't expect to see myself on the cover. The photo showed a painfully familiar scene; Dave and I getting off at the airport together the night before, him with an arm around my waist, pulling me close as he whispered something in my ear and I smiled. We both looked happy; happy and at peace, like I hadn't felt in a long time.
The photo didn't take up the whole cover; there was some other Hollywood gossip splashed across it that I barely paid attention to as I zeroed in on the caption beneath my picture with Dave.
SHE’S GOT A TYPE? Get the lowdown on Nore Burton and her new metalhead boyfriend, snapped in LA yesterday, on page 30.
I hurriedly flipped through the magazine, landing on the page mentioned and scanning through it, feeling my face flush hotter with every word.
Lately, there's been a buzz among Hollywood bigwigs and celebs about a fresh face on the scene: Eleanore Burton (27), aka Nore Burton. The actress, with a theater background and gearing up for her small-screen debut, turned heads by snagging the lead in Pacific Coast Television's (PCT) latest romance series, sharing the screen with some seasoned industry pros.
What's not widely known is that the actress is actually cousins with late Metallica bassist, Cliff Burton. And then there's the rollercoaster romance between her and the band's frontman and guitarist, James Hetfield (28). They've been on and off since way before they hit the big time, dabbling with other flings whenever they hit a rough patch.
But what really caught our eye was spotting the actress getting cozy with a new flame: Dave Mustaine (30), infamous for his sharp tongue and ongoing feud with Metallica after getting kicked out of the band in '83. A trusted source confided that they were actually together for a few months earlier that same year, but things fizzled out shortly after Metallica dropped their debut album, Kill 'em All.
It's anyone's guess how James Hetfield feels about his sweetheart's new fling. How's he gonna take the news that she's back in touch with an old flame he's not too keen on? We tried reaching out to Hetfield via Metallica's reps, but no word back yet as of press time.
"They went after him?" I shouted, eyebrows raised, looking at Lars in shock. "Lars, I had no clue about this pic! I..." I shook my head, too stunned to finish.
"Yeah, welcome to the club, babe," Lars quipped, snatching the magazine from me. "Just wait till you need bodyguards for your Bloomingdale's run. Fame's got its downsides, no doubt." He glanced up, frowning. "When were you planning to spill the beans about getting back with Mustaine?"
"I was going to, I swear," I said, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks. Lars just huffed, giving me an incredulous look. I couldn't blame him for being peeved; maybe I should've looped them in sooner. But I didn’t expect my personal life would become front-page news like that. "Seriously, Lars. Dave and I just reconnected last month, but everything happened so fast..."
"And what about James? Did he get the memo, or did he find out through the grapevine?"
"He knows Dave and I crossed paths again. But..." I paused, feeling a lump form in my throat, my voice trailing off as memories of James' silent treatment flooded back. "He's been avoiding me for weeks. I've called, but no answer. It's like I'm invisible to him," I finished in a mumble, blinking back a lone tear rolling down my cheek.
Lars gazed at me for a beat, then let out a sigh, opening his arms for a hug. I blinked back tears, feeling them well up despite my efforts, and eased myself into his embrace.
"You know you could've spilled this to us, me and Kirk," he said softly. "You could've mentioned James was giving you the silent treatment again. We would've had your back."
"I didn't want to be a burden," I murmured, and he scoffed.
"You're not a burden. We're family; we look out for each other, got it?"
"Thanks," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion, as I stepped back. I straightened up, brushing my hair back and sniffing, wiping away the tears that had slipped down my cheeks. "I... I'll give him a call. And if he doesn't pick up, I'll swing by his place after today's shoot. We gotta talk things out; it ain't cool for him to shut himself off like this."
"You want me to come along?" Lars offered, rising from his seat, and I shook my head no. I'd rather handle this on my own. "Okay; I got some stuff to sort out myself. We're hitting the road soon for a tour, won't be back till August for Lea's wedding. If James pops up, I'll call you, alright? And let him know you're looking to chat."
"Sure thing, Lars," I smiled softly as he clasped my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Appreciate it."
As expected, I couldn't get hold of James; every call went straight to voicemail. I got swept back into my daily grind, a hectic day of non-stop shooting. Word about me and Dave must've spread like wildfire; some colleagues offered sympathetic words, but I also caught plenty of curious looks and hushed chatter whenever I was on set during the day.
I left the studio totally beat; all I craved was getting home, hitting the shower, and crashing out. But, sticking to my morning promise, I made my way to James' place. I stood at the door, debating whether to ring the bell. After a moment, I went for it, but got no response. I fidgeted nervously, wondering if I'd picked a lousy time to drop by; I wasn't even sure he'd be home. I hit the bell again and waited. Just when I was about to bail, James finally swung open the door.
The moment I laid eyes on him, I could tell he wasn't okay; his disheveled hair, creased forehead, and bloodshot eyes gave away recent drinking. He just stood there, staring at me, before stepping aside silently to let me in. I winced at the sight of his living room, a mess that brought back memories of our wild party days back when we were younger; empty beer bottles littered the floor, clothes tossed haphazardly on the couch, and a stack of pizza boxes sitting on the corner table.
"You showed up," James muttered hoarsely, and I turned to him. He gazed at me, a mix of pain and bitterness flashing in his blue eyes, sending a wave of discomfort through me. "Finally remembered I'm alive? Or did your boyfriend not want you around today?"
"James..." I started, my tone a mix of caution and desperation. I wasn't looking for a fight. All I wanted was to talk things out with him. He snorted before heading to the kitchen, and I trailed after him. I watched with worry as he opened the fridge, reaching for a beer. "I... I don't think booze is the answer right now."
"Thanks for the tip, but I'll pass," he smirked, sarcastically. "What brings you here, Nore? Suddenly worried about my feelings now that the whole world knows you're with someone else?"
"James, that's not fair," I said, my voice choking up. "I've been trying to reach out to you for weeks. You've been ignoring my calls, you didn't answer any of my voicemails, and now I'm the one who doesn't care?"
He shot me an annoyed look but stayed silent. I sighed, blinking away the forming tears as I looked away from him, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat. Maybe coming after him wasn't such a great idea after all.
"Lars mentioned you're hitting the road soon. How are you planning to handle that if you're in this state?" I questioned weakly, and he just rolled his eyes.
"And what's it to you?"
"I do care about you, James. Even if you can't see it," I answered, my voice dropping, feeling the weight of his anger. Whenever James got like this, I felt lost, like a ship tossed at sea, struggling to find solid ground but always drifting. It was like he was slipping further away, and I couldn't reel him back in. I couldn't handle it — his distance or the hurt it caused.
"Why'd you go back to him, Nore?" he questioned suddenly, his voice now filled with anguish. "Wasn't I good enough for you?"
"James, please," I implored, taking a step forward, but he shook his head, backing away. "Come on. You know I care about you..."
"Don't say that while I have to watch you happy with him," James snapped. "Really, Nore? Fucking Mustaine? I can handle you seeing other people when we're not good, but did it have to be him ? The one person I know I can't measure up to?"
"James," I begged, my voice catching. "I didn't plan for this. But I can't ignore how I feel. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us. But you don't have to push me away. Please, let me help..."
" Stop it ," he interrupted, his voice sharp and icy. I flinched, holding back tears, feeling a pang of sadness as I watched James' expression turn hostile. "I told you not to come crying to me, didn't I? I don't want to fucking see you, I don't want to hear about your life. I don't know why you still think I give a shit," he snarled, his words laced with venomous anger.
I gaped at him, stunned, my heart pounding painfully in my chest as I watched the realization of what he'd just said sinking in, the hostility melting into regret in his blue eyes. He reached out, but it was too late; the damage was done, my heart shattered, and I knew I couldn't stand to be near James for another second right then, no matter how hard I tried.
As he came closer, I swatted his hand away, tears streaming down my face. I backed off quick, just needing to get away, to put as much space between my pain and James' rising temper as I could, even if that meant widening the gap between us even more.
I got home feeling totally crushed, tears still streaking down my cheeks as I flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh, and caught sight of the blinking light on the phone, telling me I had messages waiting. I grabbed the phone and held it up to my ear, tapping the button to listen to the voicemails. A faint smile crept onto my face as Dave's voice came through.
Hey, babe. How's it going? Just saw that article they threw out about us. Give me a call, alright?
I let out a sigh. Even though I was feeling pretty down, I knew chatting with Dave would lift my spirits, so I quickly dialed up his number.
"Hey."
"Hi, Dave," I said, trying to put on a smile even though my voice was still a bit wobbly.
"Hey, sweetheart. You alright?" Dave asked, sounding all worried. Of course he'd pick up on my mood instantly; nobody read me like Dave did.
"I..." I let out a sigh; I didn't wanna stress him out, but I also couldn't keep everything that went down with James from him. "No, I'm not," I confessed. "I... I went to see James, Dave. He's not in a good place... We had a huge fight, he said some nasty stuff, and I..."
"It's because of that stupid article, right?" he said, his voice tense. I agreed, and he let out a sigh. "Hey, wanna swing by my place? I don't want you to be alone if you're feeling this bummed out. I'll whip up some dinner for us."
"Wait, you actually know how to cook?" I asked, my genuine curiosity distracting me from my sadness for a moment, and he chuckled softly.
"I'm getting there. Can't survive on fast food forever, you know. But I can always order in if you're not convinced by my culinary skills," he said, and I giggled.
"No need. I'm game to try your cooking. I'll just change and head over there, then."
I showed up at Dave's home not long after, carrying a backpack slung over my shoulder packed with all the stuff I figured I'd need for the next day. When he swung the door open, I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest.
"Hey," he chuckled softly, running his fingers through my hair. I glanced up, standing on my toes to plant a kiss on his lips. He grinned, his hands cradling my face gently. "C'mon, let's head inside."
I smiled softly when I stepped into Dave's place and noticed the living room, dimly lit and cozy, lit up with just a small lamp while some soft tunes played in the background. Not the usual heavy metal songs I was used to enjoying with him, but instead, a nice, slow piano melody. The dining table was all set with red candles flickering, some spaghetti bolognese, and a bottle of red wine.
Dave snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on my shoulder, swaying along to the music. I couldn't help but let out a soft giggle. I turned around to wrap my arms around his neck; he slid his hands down to my waist, giving me a light kiss on the lips before resting his forehead against mine.
"A candlelit dinner and some music? You're pulling out all the stops this time, Mustaine," I remarked, and he grinned.
"Just wait 'til you see what I've got planned for after we go to bed."
"You didn't go all out with rose petals and stuff, did you?" I teased, and he chuckled, giving me a tight hug and a light kiss on the lips.
"I'd do anything to see you smile. You know that, right?" he asked, softly.
How could I feel anything but pure joy hearing that? Having Dave back in my life felt like a dream, one that just kept getting sweeter by the day. I could see it in his eyes he meant it, despite all the mess with James, despite all the baggage from my past. He loved me, plain and simple. What more could I ask for?
Instead of answering, I simply leaned in and planted another kiss on his lips.
August 15, 1992
The next few months flew by in a blur. Between my jam-packed schedule and all my commitments, things slowly started shifting. Dave and I made it official, letting everyone know we were back on, and sure, at first, it caused a bit of a stir with the gossip mags and our circle of friends. But soon enough, the novelty wore off, and we got our privacy back.
The moments I spent with him were just something else; every day, our bond got stronger, and I couldn't get enough of Dave - his smile, the feel of his skin on mine, the taste of his kiss, and how his eyes softened whenever they locked with mine.
Dave kept fighting to stay clear of falling back into addiction, even though some days were really tough on him. I did what I could to support him, even if I knew deep down that I couldn't fix everything. But Dave always made sure to let me know that just having me around made things a whole lot easier.
Having him around definitely helped ease my load too; getting back with Dave kind of lifted some of the heaviness I'd been carrying around for the past few years. Sure, I knew I'd always have to deal with the sadness that came with losing Cliff. But the pain of having lost Dave in the past bit by bit was slowly being replaced by love - real, deep love that filled up my chest almost entirely.
Almost entirely, except for the part that still hurt because of my messed-up relationship with James. We'd been in this complicated dance for a few years now, but lately, he'd been more distant than ever. I mean, I get it, being a big-time artist, time works a bit differently, right? It wasn’t unusual for us to go ages without seeing each other when the band was out on their never-ending tours, but usually, we'd at least keep some kind of contact going.
But lately, it felt like he was going out of his way to steer clear of me, and honestly, I wasn't really feeling the urge to patch things up after the nasty stuff he'd flung my way last time we talked. I'd still give Lars and Kirk quick calls to check in on them every now and then, but I made sure to steer clear of bringing up James, and they didn't mention him either.
I figured I'd bump into him sooner or later. I mean, with Leanne's wedding creeping up, it was bound to happen. Lea and Joe had settled on tying the knot down in New Orleans and had snagged a whole hotel to fit everyone in. I caught up with them the day before the big party, when they swung by to greet us at the airport and give us a ride to the hotel.
The moment I laid eyes on Lea, a huge smile spread across my face; she was just like I remembered her, with her dark locks and sparkly eyes, but I couldn't help but do a double-take at the little bump showing she was expecting. As for Lea, she didn't seem at all shocked to see Dave tagging along with me for the event. Despite the miles between us, Leanne and I always made sure to keep each other in the loop about what was going on in our lives.
"You’re pregnant? " I blurted out, all wide-eyed and grinning as she pulled me into a hug. She laughed.
"Yeah, I am! Joe and I were just as shocked, believe me. I'm at 19 weeks... Oh, sorry, that's like 4 months, right? I didn't spill the beans sooner 'cause I wanted to tell you face-to-face."
"Wow, Lea. That's amazing news, congrats!" I gushed, beaming at her, and she beamed right back.
Man, I was beyond thrilled for her. Even though Leanne and I hadn't been as close lately, I still saw her as one of my ride-or-die besties, and I knew she felt the same way. Losing Cliff had changed a lot of stuff, but it didn't touch the bond we had. Seeing her all glowing and living her best life, well, it warmed my heart more than words could say.
Dave and I tagged along with Leanne to the airport parking lot, and there was Joe, leaning against the car, waiting for us. His face lit up with a smile when he spotted us. While Leanne hadn't changed much, Joe was a whole new dude compared to the long-haired blondie I knew back in my San Francisco days. These days, he kept his hair super short, almost buzzed, and sported a full beard. But that friendly grin of his was still exactly the same.
"Hey, Nore, Dave! Been ages!" he said, giving us a hug before unlocking the car. "How've you been? Pumped for the party?"
"I'm counting down the minutes," I grinned, and Leanne let out a soft chuckle. "But you two must be over the moon, right? Tomorrow's your big day!"
"Oh, you have no idea," Leanne said, all hyped up. "We've been waiting for this forever, and now that it's finally happening, it's like pinch-me-I'm-dreaming territory."
We pulled up at the hotel before we knew it. Dave and I gave Leanne and Joe a big thanks for the lift, then headed inside to check-in and crash for a bit. I mean, the next day was gonna be huge. Finally, we made it to our room, and I let out a sigh of relief, humming a little as I started unpacking. Dave glanced over at me, a small smile playing on his lips.
"You're looking pretty happy," he observed, moving in closer and resting a hand on my waist. I let out a soft chuckle as he planted a kiss on my cheek, his lips brushing lightly against my skin before meeting mine. "I love seeing you like this."
"Isn't it crazy that Lea's gonna have a baby? That's awesome," I remarked, grinning. Dave chuckled softly, pulling me into a hug before his lips found mine once more. I let out a contented sigh as he gently gripped my hips, drawing me closer.
"You ever thought about having one?" he murmured, his voice low and a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaned in close to my ear. I pulled back a bit, feeling a blush creep up on my cheeks as I looked at him, surprised. "We could have a little one someday. You know, down the road. Or two. Or ten ."
"How'd we jump from two to ten?" I giggled, and he let out a big laugh.
"Just throwing it out there. If you want, I’d love to have a future with you."
Those words from Dave kept swirling around in my head all night, even after we'd settled into bed. Ever since Cliff had passed, I'd been steering clear of making any big plans for the future. Losing him had hit me hard, wrecking any dreams I used to have. For a while, I’d just let life happen, rolling with the punches as they came. I was so, so terrified of hoping for anything and ending up crushed and broken again. But with Dave by my side, everything felt different, like the world was painted in brighter colors. Was it okay to start thinking about a future where we wouldn't ever have to be distant again? Was it okay to start thinking about a future with him?
A future with him. Just the thought made my stomach tie up in knots, all tangled up with the fear that it could all go south one day. But deep down, I knew I craved it with every fiber of my being.
Maybe I wasn't exactly brimming with courage right then, but one thing I knew for sure: for as long as I lived, I never wanted to be apart from Dave again.
August 16, 1992
Leanne's wedding ceremony was short and sweet, but emotional. I'll admit, I got a bit teary-eyed watching her stroll down that aisle, all choked up with happy tears but still beaming. On the downside, being a bridesmaid meant I couldn't shake the feeling of James' eyes on me the whole time. Him, Lars, and Kirk were all groomsmen at the wedding too.
James and I had crossed paths real quick at the hotel during breakfast, but it was like we were total strangers. Not a single word passed between us. Maybe I was being a bit stubborn, but after the nasty stuff he'd flung at me months back, I wasn't about to be the one to make the first move and patch things up.
The wedding’s reception kicked off pretty quickly, held at a beautiful historical mansion not far from our hotel. I snagged a seat at the table set aside for me, Dave, and a bunch of other folks while he headed off to grab some food. I glanced up with a grin when I noticed a familiar face plop down beside me.
"Hey, Kirk," I greeted, and he flashed me a warm smile.
"Hey, Nore! Finally tracked you down. So, I noticed Lea moved you to a different table... Is it 'cause you and James had a spat or 'cause your boyfriend's not our biggest fan?" he quipped, and I chuckled.
"Maybe a bit of both. But don't sweat it, Dave won't mind me hanging with you guys. As for James..." I let out a sigh. "How's he holding up?"
Kirk grimaced.
"The usual drill, ya know. Him and Lars got into it like three times on the tour... Lars keeps pushing him to hit up rehab, but James insists he’s good," he sighed, then flashed a grin. "Sorry 'bout the tiff you guys had. But he'll bounce back, trust me."
"I know. It's just frustrating when you wanna lend a hand but the other person isn’t having it," I admitted with a sigh, then glanced up as Dave strolled over with two plates of food. "Red alert, Dave's on the scene," I joked, and Kirk chuckled before standing up.
"I'll bail for now. Don't wanna ruffle your boyfriend's feathers too much. We'll chat later, Nore."
I flashed Kirk a smile as he headed off to join Lars and James at their table. Heat rushed to my cheeks when I sensed James looking my way, so I quickly turned my attention to Dave.
"Brought food," Dave grinned, sliding a plate in front of me before settling down beside me. "So, what was up with Hammett?"
"Just chatting. You know we haven’t seen each other in a while," I answered, a small smile playing on my lips. He scoffed, rolling his eyes, but didn't seem too bothered. "Jealous, much?" I teased.
"No need for jealousy, sweetheart. I know you're madly in love with me," he grinned, and I playfully nudged his arm, chuckling.
We wrapped up our meal, happily chatting the whole time. Once dinner was done, a sweet tune started playing, and I couldn't help but grin as I watched Leanne and Joe twirling around the dance floor. Leanne looked stunning in her fancy dress, her hair all dolled up with twinkling little gems. Joe looked like he was on cloud nine, beaming at her like she’d hung the moon. I felt Dave slide an arm around my waist, planting a soft kiss on my temple, and I melted into his embrace.
The party flowed like honey, with drinks pouring freely, mouthwatering meals, and catching up with old friends. Leanne had rounded up a bunch of folks from our San Francisco days, so mingling was easy. Dave and I bounced around, shooting the breeze with different faces, and as the booze kicked in, things got looser. I ended up deep in conversation with Lars at one point, while Dave snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I couldn't help but chuckle at how unexpected and unlikely the moment felt.
The only person I hardly even crossed paths with was James. I mean, there was this one time when I was heading back from the bathroom and accidentally plowed right into him. He caught me, his hands gripping my shoulders tight, and I couldn't help but blush when I looked up and saw it was him. I took a step back, my face probably as red as a tomato, while he just stood there, all serious, not saying a word.
"What?" I snapped, my voice a bit sharper than I meant it to be. He just kept on staring at me, like he was trying to figure out what to say, but I wasn't in the mood to hash things out with him. I spun on my heel and headed back to Dave, who was busy grabbing us a couple of drinks at the bar.
“Hey, babe. You good?" Dave asked, passing me a glass filled with a drink. I took a sip and nodded, shooting a quick glance over at James, who was still eyeing me from afar. We locked eyes for a sec, both of us clearly ticked off, until Dave caught on and followed my gaze. He frowned, grabbing my hand. "C'mon, let's go somewhere else."
I tore my gaze away from James, ditching my drink on some random table as I trailed after Dave, feeling kinda intrigued. The way Dave's shoulders tensed up told me he wasn't exactly thrilled about the silent stare-down I just had with James.
He led me through the mansion's hall and out the back door, where we found ourselves in a huge, empty garden since most of the guests were still inside. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was up to, as he guided me to a secluded spot in the garden. My eyes widened in surprise when he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me before planting a harsh kiss on my lips.
"What's the deal with you and James?" he growled, catching me off guard with the intensity in his voice.
"Dave, it’s nothing," I murmured, but he just grunted in response, kissing me again with a bit too much force, his tongue pushing into my mouth without any of the usual gentleness. I let out a little moan, taken aback, gripping onto his arms as his hold on my waist tightened.
"He's been eyeing you all night, and now you can't seem to take your eyes off him," he murmured, giving my lip a light nip as he backed me against the wall. He slid one knee between my legs and his hand rested lightly on my neck. "You gonna clue me in on why you're giving him all this attention?"
"He's just being a jerk. I'm not giving him the time of day, I... Oh!" I gasped when Dave spun me around, pressing my back against him and pulling me close, letting me feel his hard-on as he started kissing my neck. "Dave, hold on, you're drunk..."
"And what if I am? You are too," he grunted, but eased up on his hold a bit. His lips, however, kept on working their magic on my skin, planting soft kisses that sent shivers down my spine. "What's wrong? You wanna go back to him?"
"It's not that," I murmured, daring to turn to face him again. Dave looked at me, his eyes filled with turmoil as I gripped onto his arms, feeling my heart pounding and my cheeks heating up. "I want you, Dave," I declared, reaching up to his face and wiping away the lipstick that had smeared from my lips to his. He grunted, grabbing my wrist before pressing me back against the wall, his lips finding my neck once more as he nibbled and sucked gently. I let out a little moan, caught off guard, closing my eyes. "Dave..."
"If I make it crystal clear to everyone that you're mine, will that jerk finally back off?" he growled, nipping at my neck again in a way that I knew would leave a mark. I gasped, clutching onto his shirt and shutting my eyes. "You know I'm planning to fuck you stupid all night long, right?"
"Hmm... Dave, please..." I begged, not entirely sure if I wanted him to stop or to keep going. He grunted, but pulled back, leaving me with one last kiss on my neck before stepping away, his cheeks flushed and his gaze burning with intensity.
"We should head back," he suggested, his voice low and husky, his fingers intertwining with mine. I nodded, my heart still pounding, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through me at his touch.
We made our way back to the party; Dave and I ducked into the bathrooms to freshen up before rejoining the crowd. I blushed when I caught sight of myself in the mirror: flushed cheeks, smudged lipstick, hair slightly tousled, and two distinct red marks on my neck's smooth skin. I did my best to fix my hair and makeup, dabbing at the hickeys with cold water in a vain attempt to reduce the bruises that I knew would linger for days.
I headed to the bar, grabbing a glass of water to cool down. I glanced around, searching for Dave, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he hadn’t left the bathroom yet. I settled at a table with a sigh, my heart still fluttering a bit.
"Your guy's a bit possessive, huh?" a voice chimed in, and I glanced up to see James with that familiar smirk on his face, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and bitterness.
"After all this time, that's your opening line?" I shot back, my tone icy. He took a seat beside me, his gaze fixating on the marks on my neck. His fingers traced the edges of the redness softly, sending a shiver down my spine.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he muttered, "You love having him under your spell. And me too," he added, lifting his gaze to meet mine, his eyes flickering with anger and something else, a mix of emotions I couldn't quite pin down, but definitely edged with desire.
"You're not even gonna say sorry? Just gonna stay there spewing out this nonsense?" I shot back, aiming for hostility but only managing to sound wounded. He scoffed, leaning in closer, his lips pressing against the bruises, kissing and biting them softly before he murmured against my skin:
"I'm sorry." Then he straightened up, leaving me stunned, heart racing and face flushed as I watched him walk away without a backward glance.
After the party wrapped up, Dave and I hopped in a taxi back to the hotel. We were quiet on the ride, his fingertips tracing little circles on my inner thigh, sending shivers up my spine. Once we got to our room, I headed to the bathroom, flicking on the tap to start filling the bathtub while Dave took his clothes off. Leaning against the door frame, I watched him kick off his shoes, feeling the buzz from the drinks at the party making me even more eager to pick up where we’d left off with that kiss.
"Are you hopping in the bath with me?" I asked, shooting Dave a coy smile as he loosened his tie. He smiled back and walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist and planting a soft kiss on my lips, while his hand fumbled for the zipper of my dress.
He paused when we heard knocks on the door. I frowned, wondering if it could be hotel staff or something. Dave sighed, annoyed, as the knocking continued.
"Better shut off the tap before we flood the room," he remarked, and I chuckled softly. "Let me handle this while you do it."
I headed into the bathroom, shutting off the tap as I listened to Dave dealing with whoever was at the door. I perked up, intrigued, when I heard a familiar voice followed by Dave's tense and irritated tone:
"You've got some guts showing up here, huh?"
I furrowed my brow, puzzled, and went back to the room, my jaw dropped in confusion when I spotted James at the door, locking eyes with Dave in a standoff.
"James?" I blurted out, taken aback, and both men turned to look at me, frustration and anger etched on both their faces. "What the hell are you doing here?"
He eyed me for a beat, tension thickening as Dave's gaze drilled into him. It was like mixing gasoline with a lit match; all of us were already worked up and intoxicated after a night of partying, and James clearly had some bones to pick with both Dave and me. James made a move to step into the room, but Dave cut him off, blocking the entrance with his arm.
"She asked you a fucking question," Dave growled, and James finally glanced at him, a sarcastic smirk creeping onto his lips.
"I came here to talk to her, not to you," James slurred, his voice thick with alcohol. Dave looked ready to snap, his free hand balling into a fist.
"Dave," I stepped in, grabbing his arm and easing it down. He turned to me, and I placed my hand on his chest. "It's alright. Let him in."
Dave sighed heavily but reluctantly moved aside, his face tight with tension, his eyes burning with anger and his lips pressed into a thin line.
"You're like her little lapdog, aren't you? Whatever she wants, you jump, just to keep her happy," James remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I shot him a disapproving look, furrowing my brow, but before I could respond, Dave interrupted with a growl:
"And what about you, huh? You're here to grovel for her forgiveness?" Dave stepped forward, confronting James with a challenging glare. I glanced nervously between them, reaching out to touch Dave's arm in a futile attempt to calm him, but he shrugged me off. "I see the way you look at her, Hetfield. You think I don't notice? You're pathetic."
"That's the crux of it, isn't it?" James snarled. "You and I, we're cut from the same cloth. We both crave her love, her attention, hoping we'll be the lucky one she picks in this messed-up game."
"Except she already chose me," Dave shot back. "Game over. And you know I don't like sharing what's mine."
"Maybe you guys should give it a shot," I blurted out, without really thinking, eager to diffuse the tension between them, but instantly regretting it. Dave and James both turned to look at me, wearing expressions of disbelief, while I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Um... I just meant..."
"Try sharing you?" Dave chuckled, as if what I’d said was totally nonsensical. I blushed when he gently lifted my chin with his hand, locking eyes with me as he leaned in close, his words a soft whisper, "You don't even know what you're asking for, do you, sweetheart?"
"I just don't want you guys fighting," I murmured, pleadingly. "Please, Dave. You know I care about both of you."
James chuckled, shifting our focus away from each other. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, he had that same intense look in his eyes as when we’d talked earlier — anger, jealousy, and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on at first, but then recognized: longing.
"You always play nice with everyone and it drives me fucking crazy," he remarked, moving closer and closing the door behind him. My heart raced as his hand trailed down my neck to collarbone, all while Dave kept a close eye on him. "There's no escaping this, Nore. Choosing one means hurting the other. And he's got a point." James shot a glance at Dave, who raised an eyebrow. "I'm not exactly great at sharing what's mine either. You know you can't have us both, right?"
"I know. But I don't wanna lose either of you," I admitted, feeling my cheeks heat up as James came closer with a growl, planting his lips on mine. I gasped in surprise, and he seized the moment to slip his tongue into my mouth, his hands firm on my waist. I let out a soft moan as I felt Dave's lips on my neck, planting slow kisses until he reached my ear.
"You sure about this?" he questioned, and I nodded, shutting my eyes and yielding to James' kiss, eliciting a soft growl from him as I tangled my fingers in his hair. "Didn't know you were this greedy, babe," Dave murmured, but he didn't seem upset, more like amused.
Was this really happening? It was hard to wrap my head around it, hard to think straight as the lips of the two men I loved roamed over my mouth, my neck, my skin, igniting sensations that made my whole body tingle. Dave's fingers deftly unzipped my dress.
"Talk to me," James whispered in my ear, and I shut my eyes, my lips parting slightly as I exhaled, Dave still planting kisses on my neck as he eased down my dress. "Tell me you want this, I gotta hear it from you."
"Please, I want both of you," I breathed out, and Dave tightened his grip around my waist, pulling me snug against his body while James teased my earlobe.
I let out a sigh as Dave tilted my head, locking his lips with mine, our tongues moving together while James worked on unclasping my bra and took a nipple into his mouth, giving it a playful nip before leaving small hickeys all over my soft skin. I couldn't help but moan, the sensations overwhelming me. I was completely lost in the moment, swept away by the touch of both of them. It was beyond anything I'd ever dared to dream.
James backed off a bit, his hands resting gently on my hips while Dave went back to peppering my neck with kisses, his hardness pressed against my butt. I stole a glance at James, noticing his distant gaze and flushed cheeks as he watched me, his fingers tracing my cheek softly.
"How do you pull it off? You're still perfect even when you're messing with my head," James muttered, and Dave snarled softly, leaning his head on my shoulder, their eyes locking for a moment. James' expression was hard, revealing a blend of frustration and reluctant acceptance.
"Why do you think I'm crazy about her?" Dave murmured, his lips trailing from my neck up to my jawline in a slow, deliberate path.
I sighed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as I sensed a kind of understanding forming between the three of us, albeit slowly; Dave and James were like two sides of the same coin, always had been, brothers of fire and anger even before all their pain had driven them apart. Was it such a shocker that they'd both end up falling for the same woman? Was it such a surprise that I'd end up loving them both?
Maybe we always knew it would eventually lead to this. Maybe we’d all been waiting for this moment, a collision of stars, like waves crashing on the shore on a rainy day. It was dangerous, but exhilarating — so much so that I almost wished we wouldn't cross this line, because I knew I could never come back.
But, at least from now, it seemed good enough to be worth it.
James took a step back, loosening his shirt’s buttons and slipping it off gradually, working on undoing his pants next. I watched him, feeling a shiver run down my spine as Dave's hands caressed my breasts softly. I let out a sigh as James came closer, and reached out, my fingers tracing the edge of his underwear slowly. James grunted, grabbing my hand on his and pressing it against the outline of his erection.
"No way," Dave grunted, clutching my wrist tightly, while James arched an eyebrow. "She's mine first. You can watch," he declared, and James chuckled, rolling his eyes with a smirk. Dave wrapped his arm around my waist, pivoting me to face him, and planted a slow kiss on my lips as I unfastened his shirt.
"Is this your way of proving I'm yours?" I whispered, and he grunted against my lips. "By fucking me in front of him?"
Dave didn't say a word; he guided me to the bed, laying me down and sliding off my panties before undoing his pants and lowering them. James joined us on the bed, shedding his underwear and stretching out, placing my head on his thigh and tenderly running his fingers through my hair, his gaze fixed on my face as he caressed it. Dave finished stripping, then climbed on top of me; I shut my eyes, letting out a soft moan as he pushed into me and I felt him spread me open. James let out a low, rough sound, leisurely stroking my hair. When I looked at him, I saw he held his hard cock in his hand, jerking it softly.
I shifted my gaze to Dave, who kissed me slowly, his intense hazel eyes serious as he pushed into me. His lips moved against mine, his tongue intertwining with mine as he thrust forcefully. I let out soft moans against his mouth, tears brimming in my eyes from the pleasure of feeling him inside me.
"Dave…" I whispered, and he groaned, pulling me close, our gazes locking in a heated embrace.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, urging him to go deeper, gripping his hair tightly. James growled, tilting my face up and guiding his cock to my lips. I eagerly opened my mouth, taking him in, and he moaned softly. Dave kissed my neck, sucking on the tender skin, leaving even more bruises that sent shivers down my spine, but I didn't mind. In that moment, all I could focus on was the sensation of James and Dave, both of them, with me, together.
"Fuck," Dave whispered in my ear, his actions growing more fervent. "If I knew it felt this good to have you with an audience, I would've suggested it ages ago."
"If I knew you'd be into it, I would've brought it up sooner," I whispered back, stroking James' cock slowly with my hand and sighing when Dave started to massage my clit with his fingertips. I moaned, gripping him tightly, and he shut his eyes, thrusting into me with more vigor.
"You're almost there, aren't you?" Dave whispered, and I nodded, unable to form words. James gently brushed away the tears of ecstasy that welled in my eyes, his touch so tender it sent shivers down my spine. I took him back into my mouth, and he let out a soft groan, moving slowly as I continued to pleasure him.
I let out a long, satisfied moan, tightening around Dave as waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and breathless. Dave groaned, his face buried in my neck as he reached his own climax, his release flooding into me with a low grunt.
Taking a moment to catch my breath, I pulled James out of my mouth, my lips meeting Dave’s as he shifted beside me. He brushed the hair away from my face, planting gentle kisses along my neck and shoulders as I took James back in my mouth, meeting his gaze with a mixture of desire and satisfaction.
James tangled his fingers in my hair, guiding my movements as his hips rocked gently. His flushed face and parted lips revealed his arousal as I worked my tongue, eliciting soft sighs from him. Meanwhile, Dave's kisses grew more fervent, his hand trailing down to where my body was still slick with our fluids. His touch on my already overstimulated clit made me shiver, and I couldn't help but moan in response. James then bucked his hips forward with a moan, tightening his grip on my head, his release filling my mouth with a warmth that sent a thrill through me.
"Good girl," Dave murmured approvingly as James pulled away from my mouth, running a finger along my slightly swollen lips. I swallowed, feeling a rush of warmth and satisfaction. I turned to Dave, and he leaned in, planting slow kisses along my jawline. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment, but Dave gently cupped my face, urging me to look at him. "Don't shut your eyes, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "We're not done with you yet."
I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush and my heart beat faster as Dave shifted away and James pulled me onto his lap, my legs wrapping around his hips as I sensed him growing hard once more. Dave let out a sigh, positioning himself behind me, his hands firmly on my waist providing support as he nibbled on my earlobe. I closed my eyes, nestling my face into James' neck and wrapping my arms around it as Dave raised my hips, allowing James to enter me with deliberate slowness.
This was gonna be a long, long night.
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
part 03 of 06 | masterpost
word count: 4,7k | ao3 link | fic's playlist
"C’mere," he whispered, and I nodded quickly, sitting beside him on the couch. I sighed, glancing down at my hands, fidgeting nervously with my fingers. With him right there, I was all over the place, unsure of what to do with myself. My heart fluttered when he reached out, placing his hand on mine, and I felt my cheeks flush as I looked up and noticed just how close he was. "You wanted to chat, right?"
✦ on this chapter: james hetfield x female!oc, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, grief, pov change
✦ a/n: New chapter's here! First of all, I might not be able to update the next part on Monday. I'm halfway through writing it, but my days have been crazy busy, so it might take me a bit longer to wrap it up. But I swear, as soon as it's ready, I'll get it posted! This chapter is really special to me because we're diving into Dave's POV; I put a lot of heart into capturing his feelings just right, so I hope you guys like it. Feedback is welcome, thanks for reading! 🖤
✧ In terms of love, sunflowers symbolize pure and steadfast love, like Clytie who constantly gazed at Apollo. Therefore, giving someone a sunflower means telling them: “my love for you will be constant, and unchanged, like how the sunflower always faces the sun”. ✧
February 20, 1992
I sighed nervously, wringing my hands as I paced back and forth in my home's living room. After getting back in touch with Dave, we’d decided to meet up and have a chat about everything — the past, the present, and maybe the future. I didn't know what to make of his sudden reappearance in my life, unsure how it might shake up all the delicate balance I'd been trying to maintain lately. I’d left a message on James' voicemail the day before, filling him in on our reunion and our plans to catch up. Figured James should hear it straight from me, especially since he was the one who helped me hunt down Dave back in the day, spending months on end trying to track him down.
Now, though, it wasn't James occupying my thoughts, but Dave. I studied myself in the mirror; decked out in a cute dress, my cheeks flushed, my eyes gleaming with anticipation like they hadn't in ages. I'd even indulged in a touch of red lipstick, which now seemed a bit too much as I battled my nerves. Did I really care that much about whether he found me pretty?
I felt kind of silly, to be honest. But deep down, I knew I wanted to see him. I wanted to hear his voice again. Our call the day before had been brief, just a few hesitant words passing between us before I realized that talking on the phone wasn't cutting it. I needed to see him face-to-face, even if it was just to put a final chapter on our story once and for all.
I couldn't help but gasp with surprise when the doorbell chimed, my heart leaping into overdrive as a blush crept up my cheeks. Rushing to the door, I swung it open, my smile widening as I met Dave's gaze, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. He didn't even seem real, a vision straight out of a dream, his ginger hair catching the sunlight, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. It was everything I’d ever wanted, seeing him again like this, as if all my dreams were being handed to me on a silver platter.
"You’re here," I murmured dumbly, which earned a soft chuckle from him.
"Hey. Of course I am," he said, handing me the bouquet of sunflowers. I blushed as I accepted them, a delighted grin stubbornly forming on my lips. "These are for you."
"Oh, thanks, Dave," I replied, trying to contain the urge to throw myself into his arms right then and there. It seemed Dave was grappling with a similar hesitation; he reached out, lifting my chin, his thumb tracing my cheek. I sighed, feeling my heart kick up a notch. "So... you wanna come in?"
We stepped into my place; Dave plopped down on one of the couches in the living room while I scurried off to find a vase for the flowers. I rummaged through the kitchen cabinets and found one, filling it with water in a hurry. Carrying it back to the living room, I set it on a small table near the window. Turning back to Dave, I caught his calm smile, feeling the weight of all the unsaid words hanging in the air between us.
"C’mere," he whispered, and I nodded quickly, sitting beside him on the couch. I sighed, glancing down at my hands, fidgeting nervously with my fingers. With him right there, I was all over the place, unsure of what to do with myself. My heart fluttered when he reached out, placing his hand on mine, and I felt my cheeks flush as I looked up and noticed just how close he was. "You wanted to chat, right?"
"I... Yeah," I murmured, then sighed, trying to calm myself. "Dave... Last time we were together... The day you ended things with me..." I hesitated, seeing a storm of sadness and hurt stirring in his eyes, but he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, urging me to continue. "That day... it was a mess. Most of it was my fault, but... I swear, Dave, I didn't cheat on you with James. I..." I struggled to keep going, feeling the weight of old wounds reopening, tears threatening to spill over and choking my voice. "Please," I finally choked out, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please, believe me. I can explain everything, I..."
I couldn’t keep talking; suddenly, the doorbell rang. I jumped, glancing nervously at Dave as the sound repeated.
"You should get that," Dave said, offering me a faint smile, though tension still lingered in the air. I nodded anxiously, making my way to the door.
I swung the door open, and there stood James.
"James?" I blinked, tension gripping my body. "What are you..."
"I got your voicemail. Where is he?" he growled, seizing me by the shoulders and shoving me aside before I could answer. Oh no, I thought, trailing after him into the house. He marched in with long, heavy strides, heading straight for the living room where he found Dave, who rose to his feet at the sight of him, a tempest brewing in his hazel eyes. "You!" James bellowed. "What do you think you're doing here?"
"James, chill!" I clutched his arm, meeting his eyes with a mix of exasperation and pleading. "We're just having a conversation. I told you we agreed to talk!"
"So now you have to report every move to him?" Dave shot back, his brow furrowing at me.
"Take a look in the mirror, man. Like you weren't a control freak when you two were together. You think I don't know you guys fought every time Nore wanted to see us?" James snapped, and Dave's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides.
"I ain't here to chat with you, Hetfield. It's best if you bounce," he growled, his tone carrying a hint of threat. I glanced between James and Dave, my pulse quickening. Oh no, not this again.
James chuckled, dripping with sarcasm.
"Ain't here to chat with you either, Mustaine. But you've got some serious nerve rolling up here after all the crap you pulled. You don't get to waltz back into her life like nothing happened. Like you didn't hurt her."
I gawked at James, my eyes widening in surprise. So, that's why he'd shown up? To defend me? All along, I figured if I crossed paths with Dave again, he'd be stoked for me, b ut clearly, that wasn't the case.
"Funny," Dave shot back, a wry smirk curling his lips. "Real funny, coming from you. Like you and Lars didn't pull the shit you did on me. Like you weren't trying to steal her from me from the start. You reckon I didn't catch the way you looked at her?"
"Well, in the end, I came out on top, didn't I?" James edged closer, his tone dripping with venomous irony. "I got the band, and I got the girl. What about you?"
"James, knock it off!" I interjected, and both of them swung their gazes towards me, as if just remembering I was there. "Did you forget Dave's here 'cause I invited him? I wanted to sort things out with him, alright? Lay off him!"
James arched an eyebrow, clearly taken aback and a bit peeved by my response. I held his gaze, my cheeks flushing under Dave's watchful eyes, but I refused to break eye contact with James, a silent exchange playing out between us. He eventually rolled his eyes and made his way to the door.
"Ugh," I grumbled, frustrated, trailing after him. "James, come on!"
"What the fuck, Nore!" he exclaimed, wheeling around, and I instinctively took a step back. "What the fuck were you thinking, inviting this guy over?"
"I already told you I needed to talk to him! James, he deserves to know the truth. It's not right for him to keep believing I did him dirty like that..."
"That was ages ago. Why's it such a big deal now?"
"Of course it's a big deal! And what you and the guys did, booting him out of the band, matters too. You should at least say you're sorry..."
"Here you go again, sticking up for him like he didn't fuck up," James growled, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Don't you dare roll your eyes at me! All these years, I've done nothing but love and protect you. He fucking left you! He left you high and dry, then went around bad-mouthing you to everyone without even considering your feelings, without even giving you a chance to explain. Did you ever think that you could've set things straight ages ago if he'd stopped to listen? You shouldn't even give him the time of day, Nore."
"James, we were kids ," I said, my voice quieter now , trying to bring some calm to the heated moment, trying to make him understand. "I messed up plenty too. You cheated on your girlfriend to be with me. We're no saints here, okay?"
"Well, if you think this guy is here to just patch things up and be buddies afterwards, you're dead wrong, alright? Dead wrong, and you know it. Bet he's still sore about losing you, because if he's not over getting booted from the band, would he really be over that?"
"And why does that even matter? This isn't about him moving on from me or not, it's about us making things right..."
"Yeah, well, I don’t give a shit about making things right with him."
"And that's the fucking problem!" I exclaimed, frustrated. "There was a time when you'd get why this means so much to me. There was a time when you'd want me to do what makes me happy! So either you were bullshitting me or you've changed so much that you just don't give a damn anymore. Honestly, I don't know which is worse."
James stared at me for a moment, hurt and shock in his gaze, the same old hurt that always resurfaced between us — the hurt of not being able to understand each other anymore. He sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingertips as he closed his eyes.
"What happened between us and him is in the past," he growled. "I don't need to keep going over that, and I sure as hell don't owe him an apology. If you feel like you do... Don't come crying to me when he screws you over again."
"James..." I started, reaching out to grab his hand, but it was too late. He shook his head, pulling away, and stormed off, hopping into his car and slamming the door shut before speeding off. I watched him leave, my heart pounding as tears welled up in my eyes, wondering if I'd ever find a way to make things right with both Dave and James without causing even more hurt along the way.
☆
I've never been one to let things slide easily.
Holding onto grudges was kind of my thing. In a world that had kicked me and spat on my face since day one, anger had been my go-to move, sword and shield rolled into one, keeping me safe from the emptiness that always lurked.
Sometimes I'd been pretty good at channeling that anger into something productive, but other times? Well, let's just say it was a rocky ride. It was like walking a tightrope, flirting with self-destruction, and usually, things didn't end well — not for me, and definitely not for the people around me.
Grudges kept me on my toes. They kept me sharp. Couldn't forget, couldn't let myself get fooled again by someone who'd already done me wrong. And I was cool with that, like a ticking time bomb kind of cool, until I thought I found someone who got me. Someone who could put out the flames, show me the softer side of life, the morning sun's warmth instead of the heat of a fire.
She had always been my Achilles' heel.
We were lost children, lost in the haze of our youth, drowning our sorrows in booze, trying to escape everything that hurt us. I started falling for her then, in a simple way, because she was like me, yet she was good. Kind in a way that baffled me, that I couldn't wrap my head around. How could she see so much good in me when I couldn't even see it myself? How could she trust me so completely, with a trust that scared the hell out of me because I wasn't used to that kind of tenderness, that kind of affection?
Before I knew it, my love had turned into devotion. A devotion so deep it mingled with the marrow of my bones, making me stronger and weaker in equal measure. ‘Cause when I lost everything but her, the fear that she might be next only drove us apart.
Eleanore. Eleanore. Nore.
It wasn't a walk in the park to forget her after it all went south. For the longest time, I wanted to forget her, to despise her just like I did with Lars and James for booting me out of Metallica. After some time, it became a piece of cake to act like I didn't give a shit, that I was better off without her, that I was over her and ready to move on, diving into other kisses, other lovers. Drowning myself in whatever substance I could find, anything to drown out the hollow feeling inside.
But without her shining light, I was adrift.
As weeks turned into months and months into years, my fury toward her slowly simmered down enough for me to see that what I felt wasn't anger, but love. A love wounded and raw, twisting my heart in an endless pit. I longed for her, but it was too late; it wasn't rocket science to figure out that she and James were living the dream of a perfect relationship while folks seemed to get a kick out of keeping me posted on every move Metallica made without me. And I tried to sell myself the story that it was for the best; that if she’d left me, it was better for her to be with someone who truly lit up her world. That I wasn't, and had never been, good enough, worthy enough of her love.
And to add insult to injury, it's not like I didn't have my own demons to wrestle with. As the years rolled on, my reliance on any and all substances that could numb me from reality grew worse by the day, until it reached a breaking point. My first go-round in rehab fell short; I found myself making repeat visits to those gloomy facilities more times than I could tally up. And all along, I was just searching for something, anything, to reassure me that I was headed in the right direction. Something that could pull me back from the brink, something that could save me.
And then I found her.
As fleeting as our reunion had been, it was enough to shatter any facade of normalcy I had managed to cobble together. Because deep down, I knew that after laying eyes on her again, I couldn't live with myself if I let the opportunity to reconnect slip through my fingers. It was like her presence had wiped away all the pent-up anger I harbored inside. But beneath that anger lurked pain and fear. After all, hadn't she chosen James over me in the end? How could her reappearance not feel like a mirage, especially when she had once shown me the purest, most sincere form of love, only to snatch it away and make me believe I didn't deserve any of it?
That I didn't deserve her. And that she was worthy of something better.
When she asked to meet up to discuss the past, I couldn't bring myself to refuse. How could I deny her anything? And there I was, the Dave Mustaine, known for my sarcasm, anger, and aggression, completely bending to the whims of a woman. But not just any woman.
Her.
I found myself buying her flowers and eagerly anticipating our meeting like some lovesick teenager. Not because I was after a quick fuck or a girl dazzled by my wealth and fame, but simply because it was her. And God knows how when she was around, it was like everything else faded into the background. I dared to hope that her sudden reappearance in my life, after so much pain, emptiness, and longing, was a sign that good things were on the horizon.
But life's never that simple, is it?
Then James showed up, with his anger, arrogance, and disdain. My heart sank as I watched the intimate exchange between them, even in the midst of a fight. The silent communication in their glances held the weight of years of companionship, two souls deeply entwined on the same journey. And I couldn't help but envy James because he knew a side of her that I no longer did. He had stolen it from me, something I’d lost when I was deceived and betrayed by those I once considered my family.
But as I listened to their argument, and her desperate pleas for him to understand that all she wanted was to make things right and explain herself, I couldn't help but remember one of the things that had made me fall head over heels in love with her in the first place: her unwavering loyalty, always ready to defend those she cared about, the same loyalty that had her standing by my side without a second thought when my world came crashing down. Loyalty. I swear I never cheated on you with James. That's what she’d said, right? And I realized I believed her, but that didn't make things any easier. Because if that was true, then had I truly shut her out of my life, without even giving her a chance to explain herself, all over some stupid misunderstanding?
It wasn't surprising that James was furious with her for still holding onto any hope of patching things up with me. Fuck . I mean, it wasn't like this was anything new, but had I really been that big of an idiot?
I didn't even deserve her to look at me. I should just leave, spare her from my anger, my bitterness, and my mistakes. But how could I when she was right there, her blue eyes shimmering with tears she tried to choke back, so close and so real?
"I'm sorry, Dave," she whispered, her voice shaky. "I didn't know James was gonna barge in here and stir up such a mess, I..." She sighed, seeming lost for words, wrapping her arms around herself, looking so confused and alone that I couldn't resist. Striding over to her, I pulled her into a hug, holding her tight against my chest, hoping against hope that this would be enough for her to grasp everything I was feeling but couldn't put into words. She smelled like cinnamon and cardamom and this unique sweetness that was just her, and it made me ravenous. I buried my face in her hair, one hand gripping the back of her head while the other pulled her closer, and she hugged me back, like she was afraid I'd vanish if she let go, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"You were telling the truth, huh?" I murmured, my heart aching. "You and James... You weren't really together that day?"
"No," she sobbed, her voice heavy with sorrow, and I held her even tighter. "No, we weren't..."
"It's alright. It’s okay, sweetheart," I whispered, the pet name slipping out without me even realizing it, the weight of my mistakes threatening to crush me with regret. I wanted to cry too, but I couldn’t, not now. I had to stay strong for her. "I'm here. Let it out, I'm here."
I held her until her sobs subsided, her breathing slowing down. She pulled back a bit, looking up at me, her face tantalizingly close to mine, and I had to use all my strength not to kiss her right there .
"You don't wanna chase after James?" I questioned, trying to hide the distress in my voice. She shook her head, looking like she might burst into tears again any second.
"No, not right now. It'd just make everything worse. We'd end up arguing more,” she whispered, her cheeks damp from her tears. “He's angry, Dave. And he's been holding onto that anger for ages, and I don't know how to help him..."
"Hey, it's alright. You'll figure it out, I'm sure."
"We weren't together. I mean, that day," she started, breaking away from my embrace and heading to the couch, where she took a seat. I took a seat too, unable to stand even a moment apart from her. "I knew James had feelings for me. I knew because he'd kissed me once, out of the blue, and I knew I couldn't keep ignoring the way he felt."
She paused, and I nodded, pushing down the surge of jealousy and anger bubbling up inside me.
"I… I liked him too. But I loved you. I was so, so in love with you. And I’d chosen you . I would always, always, always have chosen you. That day, running into him was just a total coincidence. I didn’t even know he was gonna be there. I mean, I get it now, I should've told you everything back then. But honestly, I was scared stiff. Didn't wanna risk pushing you even further away. It was all my fault..."
"No," I cut in, squeezing her hand, small, soft, and warm, in mine. "No. I should've let you explain. You were my girlfriend, after all. I owed you that much, Nore."
"I tried to track you down afterward, you know, to explain myself," she confessed, her voice choked, those pleading blue eyes of hers practically begging for understanding. "But it never quite panned out. And then..."
"And then?" I prodded gently. She glanced away, nibbling on her lower lip, like she was wrestling with the right words. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, urging her on.
"And then... There was that song."
I let out a rough breath. Mustaine, you fucking idiot. She didn't have to spell it out. I knew exactly which song she meant, a tune born from my anger and bitterness, a misguided attempt at bravado fueled by some foolish hope that she'd hear it and come chasing after me, even if it was just for a fight. But in the end, it only drove Nore farther from me. If there was a prize for boneheaded moves, I'd have been on that podium in a heartbeat.
"And you never bothered to find me," she murmured, her voice laced with hurt, her gaze dropping to her hands, her lower lip trembling just enough to betray her pain. It was like watching a wounded bird, helpless and vulnerable after falling off its nest.
God, how I longed for her to forgive me, even for the sins I had not sinned.
"I tried," I admitted, and she glanced up at me quick, cheeks flushing the sweetest shade of pink, those blue eyes of hers sparkling like they could stop my heart. Why was she happy to hear that? Why was she messing with my head like this? Didn't she love James now? Tears threatened to well up again, the lump in my throat tightening. I couldn't stand this. "I did try. But you were gone. Off touring in Europe with him. And then a year later or so, Cliff pops up at one of my gigs. I asked about you, wanted to see you. But he shut me down," I revealed bitterly. "Told me to get over it. Said you and James were together. That you were in love. So I threw in the towel."
She looked utterly surprised, like it was news to her. After all these years, I'd figured she didn't give a damn. So why the sudden interest? Why act like she didn't know? It felt like she was ripping my heart out all over again. Because, painful as it was to admit, I still loved her. I had never, ever, ever stopped loving her. And now she was back in my life, with those piercing blue eyes and that gentle heart, thinking she could save me, thinking she could fix things. Innocent. Pure. Wasting her heart on the wreck that I was.
And I couldn't even muster the guts to lay it bare — that I was a screw-up. That I was useless, that she oughta go off and be happy with James 'cause she'd never fix what was broken in me. I didn't deserve that. But I wanted it — I wanted to be near her. I was too damn selfish. I wanted her goodness. Her innocence. I needed it to belong to me, and only me, and no one else.
I didn't deserve her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, gripping my hands tight. "I just... I thought you didn't want me around anymore. I didn't know, Dave," she sniffled. Was she crying? She shouldn't be. She hadn't done anything, anything wrong. Maybe I should've pushed harder. Maybe I should've listened. Maybe I should've gone after her, fought for her. But now, it felt too late.
"I should go," I muttered, even though it tore me up inside. "I don't want... You and James, Nore, you two are together..."
"But we're not, " she blurted out. I went still, locked into her blue gaze. Please, don't toy with me like this. "Things with James, Dave... They're complicated. But we're not together. Not like that. We..." Her voice hitched, and all I wanted was to hold her, to never let her go, to never let her cry again. "We're both broken. Cliff's death... It tore us apart."
And there it was. That vulnerability. I'd noticed it, how she seemed fragile now compared to the lively girl I once knew. This was new, and it broke my heart that she’d changed to feel ruined. It crushed me that the happy, determined, kind girl I once knew had become a wounded woman. A woman still grieving, even years after losing the one who'd shaped her world.
And it stung even more that I was such a worthless piece of shit that I felt selfishly relieved to hear she and James were no longer together.
"Please, don't string me along like this," I managed to whisper. She chuckled, her voice trembling, then met my gaze.
"Dave. Would I lie to you about something like this?" she asked, almost sweetly. Oh, this devil of a woman. If only she knew how she had me in the palm of her hand right then. "Please... I don't want you to leave."
"What should I do?" I practically pleaded. Just tell me what to do because I can't take this anymore. I want to hold you. I want to kiss you. I want to—
"Stay with me," she breathed, her fingers weaving through mine. My heart raced, disbelief flooding me. I didn't deserve it, this happiness. I didn't deserve her.
Yet there she was.
Yet she wanted me.
My hand shook as I reached out to touch her face gently. I traced the curve of her lower lip with my thumb, watching as she blushed, her lips parting ever so slightly, anticipation gleaming in her eyes. I pulled her close, my mind racing as much as my heart, and kissed her, our lips moving together, my tongue exploring her mouth eagerly, tasting her like it would be the last time. Because maybe it would. Maybe this was all just a dream, and I would wake up in my cold bed, miserable and stupid and alone without her.
Because this was too good to be true. That a woman this small could hold this much power over me, over my heart, felt almost like a joke. But there she was. She was beautiful. She was kind.
And she wanted me.
✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope @ilovepapahet
#ada writes fanfiction#heartbreaker fanfic#metallica#megadeth#james hetfield#dave mustaine#cliff burton#lars ulrich#metallica fanfiction#dave mustaine x oc#dave mustaine fanfiction#nore burton (oc)#james hetfield x oc#metallica x reader#megadeth x reader#james hetfield x reader#dave mustaine x reader#metallica smut#megadeth smut#james hetfield smut#dave mustaine smut#cliff burton x reader#megadeth fanfiction#david ellefson#kirk hammett#megadeth x you#metallica x you#dave mustaine x you#james hetfield x you
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
chapter list:
✧ part 01 | early daze: (01), (02), (03), (04), (05), (06), (07), (08), (09), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15)
✧ part 02 | honeymoon heartbreak: (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), (27)
✧ final part | california: (28), (29), (30), (31), (32), (33), (34), (35)
✧ epilogue: (aftermath), (darkness), (light), (forgiven), (lust), (holy)
extra chapters:
✧ love me in the morning: Dave comforts Nore while she deals with period pains. smut, fluff. set between parts 16 and 17.
ao3 link | fic's playlist | bonus content/fic lore
Eleanore (better known as Nore) was only 18 years old when she moved out of her house. She chose to live with her cousin, Cliff, in the same house where his band was staying - and got involved with all of them much more than she had ever expected to get involved with someone...
✦ warnings and tags (for the whole fic): oc is cliff's cousin, +18, slice of life, drinking, smoking, fluff, 1983/84 metallica, dave mustaine x oc, james hetfield x oc, love triangle, angst, smut, mxf sex (explicit), violence, implied/referenced alcohol abuse/alcoholism, past alcohol abuse/alcoholism, alcohol abuse/alcoholism, drug use, recreational drug use, consensual sex
#heartbreaker masterpost#ada writes fanfiction#heartbreaker fanfic#metallica#megadeth#james hetfield#dave mustaine#cliff burton#lars ulrich#metallica fanfiction#dave mustaine x oc#dave mustaine fanfiction#nore burton (oc)#james hetfield x oc#metallica x reader#megadeth x reader#james hetfield x reader#dave mustaine x reader#metallica smut#megadeth smut#james hetfield smut#dave mustaine smut#cliff burton x reader#megadeth fanfiction#david ellefson#kirk hammett#megadeth x you#metallica x you#dave mustaine x you#james hetfield x you
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
part 28 of ? | masterpost
word count: 2167 | ao3 link | fic's playlist
For the first time in days, I felt something beyond apathy, even if it was a messy mix of sadness, anger, and confusion. How could he think I hated him? How could he think I didn't love him, that he wasn't enough, that I wouldn't do anything to have him around? It wasn't fair. It was tearing me up inside.
✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle
✧ On the night that we met / I looked cool, rolling cigarettes / You were fooled by my jokes / I was too, I didn't know you / And I woke up alone / In a frozen, broken home / And my cousin gave me the flu / So, I flew back to L.A., but not back to you ✧
Cliff stuck around for most of the next week. If my parents found it odd that I moved back in with them and got dumped by my boyfriend out of nowhere, they didn't say a word. Honestly, I hadn't seen them so thrilled in ages. Yet, in my bitter and gloomy state, I could only picture that their joy, especially my mom's, had more to do with having me back under their thumb, away from friendships and romances they didn't approve of, than actually having their daughter back in their lives.
A couple of days later, Cliff and my dad rolled out to grab my stuff. I felt kinda bad for dragging Cliff into all this mess; first, he drove all the way from LA to Long Beach to bring me home on that rainy Sunday, and then he had to make the trip back to LA to snag my motorcycle and all the other junk still hanging around the apartment Dave and I used to share. Even if I had the guts to go, I knew Cliff and my dad wouldn’t have let me. So, I just stayed behind in Long Beach, sprawled on my bed, watching the sunlight lazily dance across the ceiling, the hours ticking away without any real purpose.
Of course, Cliff offered to help me unpack everything afterward; I figured he just wanted to make sure I wouldn't try to tackle it solo. I'd been so zoned out and drained during the last few days that anything that could be remotely unsettling to me had become a shared concern between him and my parents. I played it cool, ignoring the hushed comments they exchanged when they thought I couldn't hear; their worries about how fragile I supposedly was, that I might not be strong enough to bounce back.
I just sat on my bed, watching in silence as Cliff lugged in box after box; my clothes, my records, my whole life from the past few months, all packed and sorted like it meant nothing. He dropped the last box on the floor with a grunt before settling down next to me on the bed.
"Ready?" he asked, his fingers running through my dark brown hair, untangling some of the knots that had formed in the past few days. Despite my mom's attempts to help me, I hadn't mustered the strength to care about my appearance lately. I shook my head no, my gaze unfocused, and Cliff held my hand before saying, "Hey, it's okay. We can head downstairs, grab a bite. What do you think?"
"No," I murmured, my voice coming out hoarse and faltering from lack of use. "No, let's get this over with now."
"Okay," Cliff said, getting up, seeming pumped that I had finally said something. It hit me that those were indeed my first words of the day. "I'll grab this box with your clothes, and you can sort out that small one over there."
I sighed, giving a nod. Despite not being a pro at organizing my room, Cliff kept pushing to shield me, tackling the bulkier and trickier tasks. It didn't really lift my spirits; if anything, I felt guilty for piling all this work on him. But I pushed those thoughts away as I sat on the floor, cracking open a box and checking out what was inside.
I let out a sigh when I stumbled upon my vinyl record collection, and there was my jewelry box tucked into an extra space. I grabbed it, popping it open and blinking when I found an envelope inside. I tore it open, pulling out the blue necklace Dave had given me for my birthday. I hadn't worn it when I went to grab my jacket at Mike's house, but now its chain was broken, and that made my throat tighten because I knew it was intact the last time I had it on.
I couldn't help but wonder if Dave had broken it, if his anger toward me was so intense that he wanted to wreck one of the gifts he'd given me. Giving the envelope a shake to be sure there was nothing else inside, a little piece of paper tumbled into my lap. I picked it up, curious, my eyes filling with tears as I read what was written on it.
I'm sorry for being such a shitty person. I never meant to hurt you; I'm so sorry I wasn't enough. Just please promise you won't forget me, or at least that you won't hate me forever.
I started bawling before even finishing the note, tossing the paper away. For the first time in days, I felt something beyond apathy, even if it was a messy mix of sadness, anger, and confusion. How could he think I hated him? How could he think I didn't love him, that he wasn't enough, that I wouldn't do anything to have him around? It wasn't fair. It was tearing me up inside.
Cliff swiftly ditched the box he was packing and plopped down next to me, giving me a tight hug, pulling me close to his chest as tears rolled down my face. He hoisted me up like it was nothing, carrying me over to my bed and lying down beside me, wrapping me up in his arms and whispering that everything would be okay. I could barely hear him, though, drowning in my own distress.
It took a while for me to calm down, but he didn't leave my side for a second, his fingers running through my hair in a comforting move as I buried my face in his chest. When my tears finally dried up, all that lingered was silence; silence and exhaustion as I tried to brush off the pulsating emptiness in my chest.
"Maybe you should talk to him," Cliff finally murmured, sounding hesitant, like his words might trigger another round of tears, which, honestly, wasn't too far off the mark. "If you like him so much, you should talk to him."
"Cliff, I can't... I can't do it," I whispered, my voice faltering. And it was true; I couldn't talk to him without breaking into tears. Worse, if he didn't want to listen, if he didn't want to believe me, it felt like I could shatter into a million pieces. All I wanted was to have him back, but I didn't know what I would do if he rejected me, if nothing worked out, and that scared me beyond words.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry," he said, kissing my cheek and holding me close. "It will pass, I promise. Everything will be okay."
I gave a nod, sniffling as I wiped my face, that same apathy from before hitting me even harder. But Cliff's embrace made me feel a bit better. It was like slipping into something familiar: the scent of his skin, his hair, just like back in the day when we were kids and used to crash at each other's places, just to end up sleeping on the same bed. I couldn't help but feel grateful he was there with me.
"You know..." Cliff started, then hesitated. "James really cares about you. You know he didn't want this to happen, right?"
I stayed silent. Thinking about James over the past few days was something I consciously avoided, mostly because I was pissed. Not necessarily at him, but more about how everything went down between us. He'd tried calling me a few times since Sunday, but I swerved all his calls. I just didn't have the energy to deal with him right now, to unravel the whirlwind of emotions he stirred up. And I knew that, despite all the pain from the breakup with Dave, my feelings weren't any less intense: I still loved him, and that hurt me the most.
Cliff didn't push it. We just hung there, wrapped up in each other's arms until I eventually crashed out. Despite it all, being with him made me feel secure; sheltered and loved, for the first time since everything went sideways.
Things didn't exactly get easier after Cliff left. He didn't want to bail, but I knew he had band commitments and, let's be real, there was no legit reason for him to keep babysitting me. Those wounds weren't magically gonna heal overnight, after all.
December rolled in, and my parents decided to whisk me off on a European trip to shake things up. Yet, despite the change of scenery, it was hands down one of the crappiest New Year's of my life. I'd paid a jeweler to patch up the chain of my necklace, and started wearing it as a bracelet all the time. At first, that hurt too, but as days rolled by, the pain and sadness twisted into a strange kind of fondness.
Post New Year's, we rolled back to Long Beach. While my parents were busy fine-tuning their grand plans for my education over the next few years, I was on a mission to piece myself back together, bit by bit. Long Beach hadn't changed much in a year, and I found myself gravitating back to some of my high school buddies. Charlotte, a Drama Club friend, became my main go-to. She'd hopped on the theater train after graduation, and I started tagging along to rehearsals, first as a spectator, then as an assistant.
Most importantly, I dove back into art, especially drawing. Most of the time, I ended up sketching everything I could recall about Dave — his hands, his hair, his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way his nose crinkled when he grinned. All the things I longed to have back. All the things I couldn't bear to forget. Turns out, my drawing and painting skills, though a bit rusty from the neglect, hadn't completely ditched me.
The end of January rolled in fast. On a particularly chilly and gloomy day, I got a call from Cliff.
"Hey, Nore," he greeted me, the usual laid-back tone in his voice.I could almost picture him chilling on the couch, probably puffing on a cigarette while holding the phone with one hand. "How are you?"
"I... I'm okay," I replied, though the truth was, I was still working on getting there. "And how 'bout you guys?"
"Ah, we're good. Same old," Cliff answered. I hesitated. I almost asked if he had any news about Dave, but then it hit me — I was scared as hell to hear the answer. Scared he hated me. Scared he forgot me. Scared he moved on, or worse, still loved me. So, I didn’t ask, and he didn't tell me. "Listen, I got an invite for you."
"An... Invite?" I asked, a bit on edge. I'd been cocooning myself in a bubble for the past few months, keeping crazy busy to dodge thinking about all the drama with me, Dave, and James. I wasn't sure if I was ready to peel away from the safety of that isolation, but I figured I might as well hear Cliff out. "What invite?"
"Well, the guys and I locked in a tour... in Europe. Just a handful of gigs, you know, but I was thinking if you'd be up for joining us."
"Oh. I literally just got back from Europe, Cliff. Spent New Year's there."
"Really? I had no clue," the classic irony in his voice made me scoff, rolling my eyes. "I won't bug you if you're not up for it, but it's gonna be our first international tour. Oh, and we're opening for Venom, by the way. I just reckon you'd be a dummy to pass on this chance."
"Alright, fine. I'm in," I agreed, more to keep him happy than for any other reason. My stomach did a bit of a flip, the thought of facing Lars, Kirk, and especially James again stirring up a cocktail of excitement, nervousness, and anxiety. "But you gotta work your magic on my parents."
"I've already had a chat with them. Your old man thought it'd be a good plan for you to shake things up a bit. It's just ten days; we'll be back before you know it. Deal?"
"Okay," I murmured, trying to suppress the little grin that insisted on spreading through my face. "I'll go, then."
"Cool, I'll tell the others," Cliff replied, his laid-back tone now tinged with excitement. "I'm stoked you're coming... Missed you, you know?"
"Yeah, I missed you too," I said with a smile.
For a second, it almost felt like I could shove the sadness that had been trailing me for weeks into the background. I'd been to gigs before, sure, but tagging along on a tour was a whole new deal. And hell yeah, catching Venom live, one of the bands the guys and I worshiped, got me buzzing. Maybe, just maybe, letting myself get swept up in this distraction wasn't such a bad idea.
Maybe, just maybe, it was time to start living again.
✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
tag list: @killazilla777
#ada writes fanfiction#heartbreaker fanfic#metallica#megadeth#james hetfield#dave mustaine#cliff burton#lars ulrich#metallica fanfiction#dave mustaine x oc#dave mustaine fanfiction#nore burton (oc)#james hetfield x oc#metallica x reader#megadeth x reader#james hetfield x reader#dave mustaine x reader#metallica smut#megadeth smut#james hetfield smut#dave mustaine smut#cliff burton x reader#megadeth fanfiction#david ellefson#kirk hammett#megadeth x you#metallica x you#dave mustaine x you#james hetfield x you
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
part 32 of 35 | masterpost
word count: 3841 | ao3 link | fic's playlist
I halted in front of the door, my heart pounding, my face all flushed, the desperation in my heart shoving aside any jitters about facing Dave again. All I craved was for him to swing that door open, and I'd throw myself into his arms, cup his face in my hands and kiss him, let him take me to bed, and everything would sort itself out because I loved him. I fucking loved him.
✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, smut mentioned/implied
✧ Do you forgive me for all the ways that I missed you? / Did I ever not miss you? In my bones, in being myself / I could be no one else ✧
I woke up a few hours later with the sunlight peeking through the curtains, James' arms hugging me as he snored softly, his face tucked in the curve of my neck. I blinked, memories of the previous night rushing back, making my face warm and my stomach flutter with a million butterflies. Holy shit. That had really happened, right? We’d actually fucked?
I got up, nudging James' arms away, my face probably redder than a lobster. I headed to the bathroom, cranked up the shower, and hopped under the hot water, letting out a satisfied sigh as my body unwound. After the shower, as I brushed my teeth, it dawned on me that I’d forgotten to grab something to wear. Wrapped in a towel, I strolled back to the room only to find James was already awake.
“You look way hotter naked than I imagined, you know?” James grinned as he caught sight of me.
“Is that your version of 'good morning'?” I chuckled, hunting through my stuff for something to wear. He laughed, got up, and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling me to stand between his legs.
“Good morning, princess,” he murmured, planting a light kiss on my lips. “Hey, mind if I use your shower?”
“Sure thing, but you might want to snag some fresh clothes from your own room,” I suggested, and he flashed a grin.
“Why don't you crash in my room for the rest of the tour? It's way more convenient, and besides…” James pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist before whispering in my ear, “We could have a rerun of last night as many times as we want, right?”
I hesitated, taking a step back. James frowned, seeming intrigued by my reaction.
“What's wrong?” he asked. “Am I that bad in bed?”
“Of course not!” I replied, maybe a bit too hastily, which earned a soft chuckle from him.
“What's bothering you, then?” he asked, gently holding my chin. I let out a sigh and glanced off.
“You might get upset.”
“Nah, I won't. You know you can tell me anything,” he drew me close again, and I placed my hands on his shoulders, my face warming up with how close we were. “What's going on?”
“It's just…” I sighed, a lump of pain forming in my throat. “James, Dave dumped me, thinking I cheated on him with you. It's messed up. And I... I really liked sleeping with you. A lot, seriously. But I can't help feeling bad…” I blinked, battling against the tears that were pushing through. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything; I'm screwing everything up…”
“No. You're not,” James whispered, gently rubbing my back with one hand. “You gotta quit thinking that. You're not screwing anything up.”
“It's all my fault, James,” I mumbled, my voice shaky as a couple of tears slipped out, making their way down my face. “I messed things up, and I couldn't even go after him to set things right 'cause I was scared. It's all my fucking fault.”
“Hey. Get over here,” he pulled me in closer, giving me a tight hug, and I sniffled, wiping my eyes with one hand while he gently rubbed my back. “You didn't mess up, Nore. You haven't wrecked anything, okay? I broke up with Pat 'cause I wanted to. And Dave... If you want, I can help you with that.”
“How so?” I asked, my voice shaky. He pulled back, looking at me, his blue eyes dead serious.
“If you're up for it, we can track him down when we're back. I'll help you explain the whole story. And if you wanna patch things up with him…” he paused, taking a deep breath like the thought pained him. “Nore, I'd rather fucking die than see you sad like this, even if it’s because you can't be with him.”
“James…” I whispered, my heart pounding at his words. Would he seriously go that far for me? Was he really willing to help me set things straight with Dave, even if it meant he might lose me in the process? Did he truly love me that much?
“It's just that, right now, there's a whole ocean between him and us,” James murmured, his lips edging closer to mine. “You can be my girl while we're here... And when we roll back, we'll figure out what's what.”
I let out a sigh as he kissed me, his hands eagerly roaming over my body until he unraveled the towel wrapped around me. One of his hands gripped my butt tight, while the other ventured to my breast, moving in slow circles, his thumb slowly teasing my nipple. I let out a soft moan as his lips traced my neck, a pleasant warmth spreading between my legs.
“I just got out of the shower,” I whispered, and he let out a soft chuckle.
“So what? We can hop in together later. I was thinking about fucking you in there too, anyway.”
“Quit it, James,” I moaned, my protest weakened by the evident longing in my voice.
He laughed and then yanked me onto the bed, positioning my knees around his hips. I tangled my fingers in his hair, his lips leisurely exploring mine, and moaned when he pulled my hips down, slowly sliding into me as I settled on his lap.
The morning was wrapping up when we finally strolled into the hotel's restaurant, spotting the rest of the band and Leanne, chitchatting as they polished off breakfast.
“Go snag a seat; I'll grab the food,” James suggested, tugging me in by the waist before whispering in my ear: “You've gotta be tired after riding me so good just now, huh?”
“Oh my God... James!” I griped, shoving him off as I felt my face getting all warm. He burst into laughter, heading for the buffet, and I rolled my eyes before joining the gang at the table. “Hey,” I greeted everyone as I took a seat, arching my eyebrows and furrowing my forehead when I got zero response. I blushed when I noticed all eyes on me — Kirk and Leanne with expectation in their eyes, Cliff throwing some side-eye, torn between suspicion and curiosity, and Lars barely containing his laughter. “Alright, spill it. What's the deal?”
“You telling us what happened?” Kirk chimed in, a big grin spreading across his face. I furrowed my brow.
“Nothing happened. What are you guys talking about?”
“Just that Pat went nuclear 'cause you and James disappeared together yesterday. Now she's MIA, and you two stroll in all cozy for breakfast like this?” Lars said, grinning like a goof too. ”So... what's the story?”
“Pat and James called it quits. She hightailed it back home,” I admitted, figuring there was no point in keeping it under wraps — everyone would catch on sooner or later.
“And you’re seriously gonna let us suffer in suspense? Spill the details!” Lea demanded, and I let out a groan.
James rolled back with two plates, plopping one in front of me before settling down and digging in. He took a few seconds, maybe longer, to catch onto everyone's eager stares at us.
“What?” he asked, his mouth full.
“What we're dying to know is if you two fucked or n…”.
“Lars!” I cut in, my face heating up. James nearly choked on his food, going red in the face too. I averted my gaze, refusing to make eye contact, running a hand over my face.
“Oh my God. You guys totally did it, didn’t you?” Lars continued, now definitely cracking up. We stayed silent, but that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed. He leaped to his feet. “I called it!” he pointed triumphantly at Kirk and Leanne. “Pay up, you owe me ten bucks.”
“You guys placed bets on this?” I exclaimed, offended, getting up. “Cliff!” I turned to Cliff, hoping for some support in conveying how ridiculous this was, but he just shrugged.
“I have nothing to do with this.”
“What were you betting on?” James inquired, still a bit flushed but not nearly as bothered as I was. I stared at him, incredulous.
“I bet that you and Pat would split, and you'd turn to Nore for comfort, inevitably leading to... you know. Kirk bet on a threesome with you, Pat, and Nore…” I shot Kirk a wide-eyed look, and he grinned at me like it was just a casual proposition. “Lea bet that you would only sort things out come morning.”
“And you all think it's cool to start placing bets on my love life?” I demanded, annoyed.
“We're just stoked that you and James finally got your act together, Nore. It was about time.” Leanne chimed in with a grin.
“I fucking called it! I knew this day would come ever since I spotted you two making out on the bus.” Lars declared, victorious. I turned to him, eyes wide, and James tensed beside me.
“What do you mean you saw it?” I asked, while James exclaimed:
“Seriously, Lars? I thought you were knocked out!”
“Wait a sec. What do you mean they were making out on the bus?” Kirk inquired.
“You didn't tell us any of this! It's not cool to bet when you're holding back intel,” Leanne griped.
“I genuinely thought you were knocked out,” James reiterated, sounding incredulous. Lars chuckled.
“Well, in case you're not familiar with the idea, it's called pretending…”
“Shut it, you goofballs,” Cliff grumbled. “Everyone's eyeballing us.”
I huffed but settled back in the chair to eat, allowing James to wrap an arm around my shoulders.
“So, are you two together now or what?” Lars prodded, and I rolled my eyes.
“Fuck off, Lars.”
“Are you or not?”
“It's none of your fucking business,” James muttered. “Just zip it.”
I glanced at James and couldn't help but smile when our eyes connected. We carried on with our meal, and to my relief, the others shifted gears, chatting more about the shows and the trip rather than dissecting James and me. I sighed, a sudden realization hitting me that the hollowness that had lingered for the past few weeks had lightened in my chest. For the first time in weeks, I felt almost complete, even with Dave not being there. For a fleeting moment, I almost allowed myself not to feel sad.
But then, James inadvertently brushed against the small blue stone on the bracelet that used to be Dave’s birthday gift, and in an instant, everything about Dave flooded back into my mind; his scent, his smile, the way he used to hold me. The way his lips always found the perfect spot against mine, and how he held me as if I would break with too much force. His voice, his hands, his strong arms around me, everything, everything about him.
I needed to find him again. I needed to explain everything; I needed him to understand that I loved him and had never stopped loving him, not even for a second. The idea of finding him frightened me, but the thought of never crossing paths with him again scared me even more. I needed to make things right.
Then, James' request echoed in my mind, and I let out a sigh. For now, I would let myself revel in the burst of happiness I'd stumbled upon in his embrace. I could make decisions later. I could figure out what I was really feeling. But for now, I could let myself forget that ache.
I could let myself be happy.
The rest of the tour flew by; now that James and I had sorted out our issues, the days felt lighter, and I started to feel a bit happy again. Of course, the fact that James couldn't keep his hands off me played a big part in that; we were always together, grabbing every chance we got to sneak away and get lost in each other's touch.
Before we knew it, it was time to head back home. Saying goodbye to James hit me way harder than I thought it would; I’d let myself love him fully in these past few days, no holds barred, but that didn't lessen how much I craved him one bit. If anything, with each passing day, I just wanted him more.
Nevertheless, I got back from the trip dead sure about one thing: I needed to patch things up with Dave. I had to lay it all out for him, spill every detail, even if it meant he might not want to hear it or worse, end up hating me. If my screw-up was keeping stuff under wraps to avoid hurting him, I was damn sure I wouldn't make that mistake again. Not if it meant risking losing someone I loved.
“You sure you don't want me to go with you?” James asked, cupping my face with one hand while the other hung onto my waist. We were saying goodbye at Los Angeles airport before he jetted back to San Francisco and I headed to Long Beach, but not for long; I had plans to swing back to LA the next weekend to have a chat with Dave and, well, Pat too. Figured some apologies were in order.
“I am. I swear I'll be fine,” I breathed, tiptoeing to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He grinned, pulling me into a tight hug, and I let out a soft chuckle.
“You're so damn brave,” he whispered, making my heart rush. “I'll miss you, you know?”
“We'll catch up soon,” I replied, stepping back and resting my hands on his chest. He smiled, a touch of melancholy in his eyes.
“Yeah, but it won't be the same, will it?” he murmured, and I sighed, furrowing my brow a bit.
I had been dodging the thought, but James had a point: one way or another, I planned to sort things out with Dave this weekend. I was damn sure that meeting him again wouldn't be calm or easy, not when the ache for him was like a stormy sea in my chest.
Yet, I couldn't shake off how tight James and I had gotten in these last few days, how I’d let myself fall even more for him. I was torn, clueless about what to do. All I could wish for was that sorting things out with Dave about all that had happened in the past few months would clear up this emotional mess, help me make sense of it all.
"I gotta do this, Jamie," I murmured, cupping his face in my hands. He smiled, resigned, laying his hands on top of mine.
"I get it. How 'bout one last kiss? You know, for good luck." he suggested, and I couldn't help but chuckle, throwing my arms around his neck as I let him plant a sweet kiss on my lips.
The weekend rolled in quicker than I expected, shooting my anxiety through the roof. No matter how many times I'd rehearsed the speech and played out the scenarios in my head about facing Dave, when the moment finally arrived, I was way more jittery than I bargained for.
I hit up Pat's place first, thinking it might be a smoother conversation. Nervously, I rang the doorbell, sighing in anticipation. After a few minutes, the door swung open, revealing Pat.
I started to say hi, but she shut the door right in my face as soon as she laid eyes on me.
"Pat, come on!" I blurted, banging on the door. I hammered the doorbell — once, twice, three times — until she begrudgingly swung it open.
"What do you want?" she snarled. I raised my eyebrows, taken aback by her hostility.
"I want to talk to you."
"I have nothing to talk to you about. Go away."
"Yeah, I don’t think so. We need to talk," I lit a cigarette and offered her the pack. "Want one?" She stayed silent, and I sighed, shoving the cigarette box back into my jacket pocket. "Pat, look... I know things got kinda..."
“Spare me your apologies," She cut me off. "I don't want to hear it. It's too easy for you to roll up here and apologize after swiping my boyfriend from me. I don't get why you even bothered introducing him to me. You think I didn't know you two were cozying up while you were still with Dave?”
I opened my mouth, floored.
“Pat, I didn't... That's not true.”
“No? Then why were you so bent out of shape that day at Mike's house when you caught James kissing me?" She inched closer, and I instinctively took a step back, my stomach doing somersaults and my face turning beet red when I realized she'd noticed how upset I got. Sure, I was a bit inebriated and stoned that day, but I genuinely believed Pat hadn't seen how messed up I felt seeing her with James. "If you and James weren't a thing, why did Dave kick you to the curb after I told him about you two?”
My whole world felt like it hit pause when she dropped that bomb. How could she have told Dave about James and me? Flashbacks of that day zipped through my brain like lightning; I didn't clue Dave in on my trip to snag my jacket from Mike's place, not because I was hiding stuff from him, but because I knew he wasn’t comfortable with anything related to Metallica, and I figured it'd be a quick in-and-out mission – grab the jacket and jet.
Yet somehow, for some wild reason, he’d tailed me. For months, I'd been scratching my head, wondering how Dave had known I'd be at Mike's place, how he was dead sure James and would be together behind his back, but that explanation couldn't be real. It just didn't make sense.
“You did... what?” I murmured, my voice shaky as my stomach did somersaults. The cigarette I had in my hand slipped through my fingers, thudding on the floor as my hands started to shake like crazy. “Pat, what the fuck did you do?”
“I told him everything, ” she smirked, clearly pleased with how her words threw me off, messing with my breathing in a cocktail of anger and despair. “James kept swearing you two weren't a thing, but I wasn't buying it. Did you really think I didn't notice the way he looked at you? Like, did you honestly believe I'd let you wreck everything? I figured if Dave knew, you'd have a fight, and he'd talk you out of hanging with James. I just didn't expect him to actually catch you two in the act and call it quits with you,” she came closer, giving me a little shove, and I balled my hands into fists. “But just when I figured you'd quit bugging me and James, they invited you on that damn tour. And guess what? I was right. You were together after all, weren’t you? You should've seen Dave's face when I got back from Europe and told him all about what went down back there.”
“You're a fucking bitch, ” I snapped, shaking with fury and barely holding back from taking a swing at her on the spot. “You really think this is cool? Spreading a load of bullshit about us? You don’t know shit about me and James. I’m lucky I showed up here and found out about all this, 'cause now he's for sure never gonna want to see you again.”
She took a step back, a glint of hurt flickering in her eyes for a split second before it got replaced by coldness, a mocking grin playing on her lips.
"What's that saying again? An eye for an eye?" she said, tilting her head back slightly and giving me a narrowed-eye look. "Dave won't want anything to do with you either, Nore. Not after his ex-best friend and his girlfriend double-crossed him like this. Do you think I give a damn if it's true or not? You snagged the guy I like, so I snagged the guy you love."
I took another step back. How could she just say that so casually, like it was no big deal? Like wrecking my relationship with Dave didn't matter, like hurting him and breaking both our hearts meant nothing? I felt my heart squeeze, my breath hitching as I grasped the full impact of it all; how Dave must've believed I’d genuinely stabbed him in the back, how bumping into James at Mike's place, alone with me, would have only fueled his suspicions.
And what was Pat blabbing about again? You should've seen Dave's face when I got back from Europe and told him all about what went down back there. What twisted version of the truth had Pat fed him before I had a chance to spill my own guts, to lay out my feelings, to let him know how much I've been hurting without him, how much I've been missing him? Did he really think I'd been cozying up with James since our split, not giving a damn about how he felt? Did he genuinely believe I'd ditch him like that?
I couldn't stick around there for one more second. I had to track down Dave immediately. I needed to tell him the truth, no twists, no fibs, no chitchat. I needed him to understand that I loved him. That yeah, I had feelings for James too, but I loved him ; that I had loved him first, that we could patch things up if we gave it a shot. That I needed him. That I didn't want to live without him.
I spun around without a backward glance, hustling to my motorcycle and firing it up. I zoomed through the streets of Los Angeles, maybe pushing the speed limit a bit until I hit the low-rise building where Dave and I used to live. I barged into the building like a tornado, sprinting up the stairs until I hit our old apartment’s floor. I halted in front of the door, my heart pounding, my face all flushed, the desperation in my heart shoving aside any jitters about facing Dave again. All I craved was for him to swing that door open, and I'd throw myself into his arms, cup his face in my hands and kiss him, let him take me to bed, and everything would sort itself out because I loved him. I fucking loved him.
But that dream didn't pan out; when I knocked on the door, I noticed it was already unlocked, exposing a totally vacant apartment. I barged in, frantic, scouring every room as if he might still be there, but he wasn't. He just wasn't there, and the realization hit me like a tidal wave, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. He wasn't there, and I had no clue how to find him.
I had lost him.
✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
✦ a/n: decided to put this note at the end so you guys wouldn't get spoilers for this part. I'm sorry for the heartbreaking twist (again) lol I promised Dave would be back and he will, but it'll take just a bit longer! Also, the epilogue is getting a little bigger than I expected, because I don't want to leave any plot points unanswered or rushed, so I will split it into a few parts (it won't be too many! it's all for the sake of the story and so we can get more Dave and James moments with Nore I promise lol)
tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9
#ada writes fanfiction#heartbreaker fanfic#metallica#megadeth#james hetfield#dave mustaine#cliff burton#lars ulrich#metallica fanfiction#dave mustaine x oc#dave mustaine fanfiction#nore burton (oc)#james hetfield x oc#metallica x reader#megadeth x reader#james hetfield x reader#dave mustaine x reader#metallica smut#megadeth smut#james hetfield smut#dave mustaine smut#cliff burton x reader#megadeth fanfiction#david ellefson#kirk hammett#megadeth x you#metallica x you#dave mustaine x you#james hetfield x you
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
part 33 of 35 | masterpost
word count: 2597 | ao3 link | fic's playlist
I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.
✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, romance
✦ a/n: Hi, everyone! I posted this chapter a little later than usual because I was too busy today, but it's here! Sorry for the delay. Also, some of you may have already seen this, but: I missed writing about Dave and Nore happy together a lot these last few days, so I posted a small extra chapter set somewhere between chapters 16 and 17 for all my Dave and Nore enjoyers 🖤 You can read it here. Hope you liked reading, feedback is welcome!
✧ you don't have to leave, you could just stay here, with me / forget all the party police, we could find comfort in debauchery ✧
“I should've been there with you,” James's voice, annoyed and concerned, crackled through the phone pressed to my ear. “You shouldn't have dealt with this on your own. I should've been right there beside you.”
“James, it's alright,” I mumbled, sparking a cigarette, propping myself against the payphone stand. It was late afternoon, and I’d dialed James to tell him all about my disastrous mission in Los Angeles. If I wasn't in tears at the moment, it was only because I'd already exhausted my supply in the hours before.
“Of course, it's not okay!” he burst out, matching my frustration. “Did you check with the neighbors? Wasn't there some dude you knew living downstairs?”
“Yeah, Ellefson. He bailed too. Apparently, they moved out together last week. Left no trace for anyone to follow,” I finished the sentence with a tremor in my voice, eyes burning with fresh tears, but I wasn't going to break down now. Not while James was on the line, his concern clear in every word he spoke.
“Fuck. What a mess,” he muttered. “Hey, it's gonna be alright. I think I've got his mom's address; I can try reaching out to her. We'll find him, Nore.”
“Thanks, James,” I said, feeling a bit better knowing that even if the day had turned to crap, he still had my back.
“I'm sorry about all this Pat shit. Had no clue she'd pull a stunt like that.”
“It's fine…”
“No, Nore, it's not. You know, you said the right thing to her. I never want to see that girl again. But I can hop over to Los Angeles if it means making her apologize to you,” he declared, his voice carrying a slightly menacing edge that hinted he might have wanted to go beyond a simple apology.
“James, you really don't have to do that. It'd be just playing into her drama,” I let out a heavy sigh. “All I want is to find Dave and sort this mess out once and for all.”
“We'll track him down, Nore. I promise. Everything's gonna be fine,” James tried to assure me, and I managed a small smile. There was something kinda sweet about how he was going all out to cheer me up, genuinely putting in the effort to help me out, just because it'd make me happy.
James was just impossible not to like.
“I know, Jamie,” I replied, letting the warmth of my smile show in my voice. “Thank you.”
The rest of February breezed by quickly; I suddenly realized that the one-year anniversary of my move to San Francisco had quietly passed. It seemed pretty wild how everything that had unfolded in the last few months had managed to cram into a year, shaping me in more ways than I could express. It was like I'd been a part of the boys’ life forever, like I couldn’t quite picture who I was without them in the frame.
March rolled in, bringing the end of winter closer and closer. As the days lit up and warmed, James and I kept our long-distance communication going. The phone calls from San Francisco to Long Beach, initially a bit spaced out, soon became almost a daily ritual, and I found myself eagerly anticipating those moments in an entirely new way. Sweet words of affection began to find their way into our conversations more frequently. I had to admit, I missed James more than I'd care to confess — not just the tour moments but also his touch, the sound of his voice and laughter, the blue in his eyes, and even the warmth of his kisses and the feel of his body against mine.
Being back at my parents' house had its perks: with no job on my plate and studies yet to kick in, I found myself drowning in free time. I dedicated most of it to diving into my studies and building up a solid portfolio in visual arts, gearing up for the application grind at the San Francisco Art Institute. The prospect of being in the same city as Cliff and the guys again had me stoked, but in a genuinely good way — I could barely contain my excitement for things to click into place.
Another thing gobbling up my time was my newfound camaraderie with Charlotte, one of my old high school friends. She’d been pouring her heart into her debut starring role in a theatre play, and I'd been chipping in as an unofficial production assistant, giving me a reason to hang out with her and break free from my parents’ house for a bit. On a bright Wednesday morning, the moment I stepped into the auditorium where the theater troupe was fine-tuning their craft, Charlotte threw me a curveball with an unexpected ask.
“Nore!” she squealed with excitement upon spotting me, rushing over and grabbing my hands in hers. Her green eyes looked almost teary, and her lips formed a small pout. “Thank goodness you're here. Everything's going haywire today, and I'm not sure if we can sort it out!”
“What’s going on, Charlie?” I inquired, intrigued, as I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto one of the chairs in the vacant audience area. “Did the dressing room light decide to bail on us again? You know I'm useless with those things.”
“Of course not!” she retorted, indignant, and I released a low chuckle.
“Just pulling your leg. What's up?”
“I need you to act in the play.”
I blinked, puzzled, furrowing my brow as I crossed my arms.
“You... Hold on, what? Charlie, the play is in two weeks.”
“I know!” she sighed, slumping into one of the chairs, defeated. “Why do you think I'm so desperate? One of the actresses can't perform anymore. And now the director wants to cancel the play because we won't be able to find a replacement on time!”
“And you want me to step in.”
“Yeah!”
“In a play that's premiering in fifteen days?”
“Nore, you've always been fantastic in our school's Drama Club…”
“No way, Charlie! How am I supposed to pull that off?”
“Nore, please, please, please?” she clasped my hand in hers, her eyes pleading. “It's my first lead role, I've been rehearsing for months! I promise to help you with the lines, I'll do anything!”
I sighed, resigned.
“Fine. But you owe me one,” I replied, and she let out an excited squeal before hugging me.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret it, I promise!”
Well, she was right — I didn't regret it. Actually, practicing for the play turned out to be a lot more fun than I thought. Plus, scoring some free tickets to hand out to my friends and family made me care a bit less about the crazy deadline to cram all those lines into my brain. Charlie and I basically lived in that auditorium for the next few days; I'd roll in there in the morning and wouldn't bail until way into the evening.
When Saturday rolled around, I decided to escape to San Francisco. Stuff for the band was picking up speed after those European shows. After snagging a deal to record the second album at a studio in Denmark, the guys figured a bash was in order to toast to the good news, and obviously, I had to be there. I arranged with my parents to spend the weekend over at Cliff's place with the boys. Luckily, they had some San Francisco business on the horizon, and agreed to drop by and give me a ride back to Long Beach when it was time to head back home.
I let out a sigh as I hit the old house where I used to live with Cliff, Dave, James, and Lars. It was like nothing had changed, memories still stuck in every nook and cranny; the first chats with the guys, James getting less shy as we got tighter, my first kiss with Dave, the first time we slept together, drinking together, smoking together, laughing together, loving together. And it stung, a sharp and dry ache deep in my chest, with the gut feeling that things would never, ever be the same again.
I mixed with the crowd, strolling into the living room; the first familiar face I bumped into was James', whose eyes lit up seeing me, a grin breaking out. He hustled over, grabbing my face and planting a surprise kiss on my lips, leaving me gasping, my face heating up in a flash.
“James!” I blurted out, pupils dilated in shock as I took a step back.
“My bad. Was that a no-go?” he mumbled, a persistent grin suggesting he had no regrets about the kiss. “Just damn happy you showed up.”
“I’m happy to be here too,” I whispered, my face still warm from his gentle touch.
“Geez, you two are such a clingy couple,” Cliff chimed in, coming over. I blushed, pulling James's hands off my face and avoiding eye contact.
“We're not a couple, Cliff,” I muttered, voice low, his comment knotting something strange and uncomfortable in my chest. “Excuse me, I need a drink,” I spun around, heading for the kitchen.
“Nore, hold up,” Cliff tagged along, standing by my side as I raided the fridge for a beer. “What was that just now?”
“Nothing,” I grunted, popping the kitchen door open and stepping into the backyard. Cliff sighed but joined me, leaning against the porch railing.
“Nothing? Seriously? You're not gonna start keeping secrets from me now, after 19 years?” he came closer, tilting his head to be right in my line of sight, impossible to ignore. I sighed, rolling my eyes at his persistence. “Hey. You and James weren't, like, a thing or something?”
“It's not like that,” I grumbled. “It's just... There's just too much going on, Cliff...”
I told him everything then: how James and I had decided to give in to our feelings during the tour, how I’d tried to find Dave after coming back, how everything went wrong, and now I had no clue where he was. And maybe involving James in all this was a mistake because, frankly, with each passing day, I found myself liking him more while still stuck on my feelings for Dave.
“Well, that sucks,” he remarked after I spilled my story, prompting a nervous little laugh from me. “So, you do like James, then?”
“Of course I like him,” I replied, with a resigned sigh.
“You like him, and yet you were upset because he kissed you just now?” he pressed on, and I rolled my eyes.
“Cliff, it's not that simple…”
"No, I get it ain't," he said, sparking up a joint, taking a slow drag before locking eyes with me, dead serious. "I get you still love Dave. I get you're on this quest to find him, and I'm betting it's gonna happen, Nore. You and him, you'll cross paths again 'cause I know you're head over heels for the guy. I'm pretty damn sure you two will work things out. But..." He hesitated, and I shot him a puzzled look. Cliff usually had his words lined up tight. It wasn’t like him to be unsure about anything.
"But?" I prodded, curious. He let out a sigh.
"But things are changing at warp speed for us, Nore," He handed over the joint, and I grabbed it, taking a slow drag. "We're growing up, for crying out loud. I mean, we're about to cut an album in Europe, can you believe that? A year ago, who would've thought? Things are moving quick, do you really wanna skip the chance to catch some happiness along the way? You don't know when you'll stumble upon Dave. No idea how long it'll take to straighten things out with him. Are you gonna keep dodging happiness till then?"
"Cliff, what are you getting at?"
"What I'm getting at, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine, what I mean is maybe you should quit fighting what you feel for James. I mean, you liked him before, but let's be real, you rolled back from Europe completely in love with him, didn't you?"
In love. Those words set my face on fire, my heart doing a marathon, and a zillion butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach. My first instinct was to argue with Cliff, but deep down, he wasn't totally off, was he? If I already had a soft spot for James before, now it was more like a full-blown obsession. It felt like a hunger, like I needed him to fill some kind of void inside of me. And somehow, this crazy feeling coexisted with the love I held for Dave, for the empty space he’d left behind. Everything was so damn new that I could barely wrap my head around it, let alone figure out how to handle it.
"I'm not in love with him," I mumbled weakly, and Cliff chuckled, giving me a shoulder hug.
"You're a lousy liar, you know that?" he said, and I rolled my eyes.
"Hey," a familiar voice called, and I glanced up, blushing when I locked eyes with James, propped against the door frame with a beer in hand. "Nore, everything cool?"
"I'm gonna find Lea," Cliff announced, sidestepping and shooting me a suggestive look before leaving me solo with James. I watched him saunter away, feeling my face heat up, and then turned my attention to James, his blue eyes zeroed in on mine.
"You alright? Sorry about that kiss earlier. Didn't mean to upset you," he said, his voice low, stepping close enough for me to sense the heat of his body. His attentive eyes studied my face, as if trying to decode my feelings from my expression. I sighed, my heart racing in a totally new rhythm when he gently cupped my face, resting my hands on his chest as he leaned in.
"James," I murmured, my voice shaking, almost like I was saying his name for the first time. He gave me a slight smile, his gaze zeroing in on my slightly parted lips with poorly disguised desire.
"What?"
"I don't want you thinking I'm here with you just 'cause I haven't tracked down Dave yet."
"I'd never think that," he whispered, edging even closer.
I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.
"James," I murmured again, almost like a prayer, and the way I said his name seemed to light up something hungry in him. He yanked me closer, his mouth crashing onto mine with a deep, needy moan. I sighed, trembling, my fingers tangling in his hair as I surrendered to his kiss, the dawning realization that I couldn't resist him any longer.
Actually, that I didn't want to.
He backed off, peppering soft kisses on my lips before resting his forehead against mine. His hands clung to my waist, tugging me close enough for our bodies to touch.
"I think we should head to my room," he murmured, flashing a smile. I chuckled softly, throwing my arms around his neck, and pulled him into another kiss.
✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9
#ada writes fanfiction#heartbreaker fanfic#metallica#megadeth#james hetfield#dave mustaine#cliff burton#lars ulrich#metallica fanfiction#dave mustaine x oc#dave mustaine fanfiction#nore burton (oc)#james hetfield x oc#metallica x reader#megadeth x reader#james hetfield x reader#dave mustaine x reader#metallica smut#megadeth smut#james hetfield smut#dave mustaine smut#cliff burton x reader#megadeth fanfiction#david ellefson#kirk hammett#megadeth x you#metallica x you#dave mustaine x you#james hetfield x you
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