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#lars x you
sundaynie · 6 months
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lars “TOUCH MY WIFE AND YOU DIE” rorschach nbd 🤪
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the “WHERE IS MY WIFE” trope is trope-ing y’all overprotective husband!emperor lars is mad MADDD but i’m so down BADDDD kslkslsdjjdl
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lovebrushed · 5 months
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lars rorschach x reader (includes use of “pretty girl”, swears, major amts of fluff) no spoilers dw!
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"Lars."
"No."
"I have to get to work."
"No," he repeats firmly. You push at his arms, wrapped firmly around your waist, and he pinches your stomach, annoyed. You pinch him back.
"Let me go. I can't be late again."
He tightens his arms even more, the bastard. "Call in sick."
"I've already called in sick twice for you," you groan. "I'm not doing it for a third time."
"Why not?"
"Because I am going to get fired if you keep this up." You try to pry his fingers off from where they're curled around your hips. He doesn't budge. "Lars," you warn.
"Come on, pretty girl," he murmurs into your nape, and fuck, you can't help it — you stiffen. For fuck’s sake, you think. "You can't do this to me," he continues, like he doesn't feel you go rigid in his arms. "You can't talk to me like that."
It's hard to concentrate when you feel his breath on your neck with every word he speaks, but you push through. "Yes, I can," you grit out. "I'm not falling for your —”
Then he starts pressing sweet kisses to your skin, nipping at the space behind your ear, and your mouth snaps shut before some pathetic noise has the chance to leave your throat.
"Lars," you protest weakly after a moment. "Don't."
He hums. The vibrations run across your skin. "Don't what?"
"Don't do —" you swallow when he starts tracing shapes into your hips, trying to keep yourself from melting into his arms. "That. Stop that." He kisses your neck again. "I'm serious. Stop it."
"Why?"
"Because it's…" His lips land on your jaw. You sigh. "It's distracting. You're — you’re distracting. You know exactly what you're doing."
“Is it so wrong to want to spend more time with you, sweetheart?"
"Spend more time with me later, when I get off work. Not when I'm — Lars!" you hiss when he starts pressing open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder, because you know exactly where this is gonna go. You start squirming again, kicking his feet and shoving his arms away. "Quit it!"
He huffs and pulls back. Just when you're about to make a break for the door, though, he manages to flip you on your back, hovering over you with his arms caging you beneath him.
You send him a look. "Lars."
"If you're gonna leave me like this, you owe me a kiss. It's the least you could do," he tells you firmly.
You eye him warily. "Just a kiss?"
"Maybe three. Four?"
"If I kiss you four times, will you let me go?"
He just barely manages to get out an "I guess…" before you wrap your hands around the collar of his pajama shirt and force him down so you can meet his mouth. You get to three three quick pecks before he pulls away abruptly.
"You're such a cheater," he whines, a pout on his lips.
You shrug. "You never said how long they had to be."
He huffs. "Give me a real kiss for the last one, at least."
You shake your head at him, exasperated, but curl your arms around his neck and pull him down again. "Fine," you say, and meet his lips.
Lars sighs at the feeling of your mouth on his, maneuvering both of you to rest on your sides so he can cup your jaw and rest a hand on your hip. It's a sweet, long kiss, slow-paced and searing. You feel the butterflies come to life in your stomach when he draws you closer to him by the waist, closer and closer and closer, like he can't get enough of you. Like he can’t bear to have a sliver of space between you. both. You have mercy on him and lean forward to wrap your fingers around his nape. You feel him sigh into your mouth again.
You finally pull away when he starts nipping at your bottom lip. "Lars," you scold as he chases after your lips.
"Just one more, sweetheart," he mutters breathlessly, trying desperately to tug you back to him. "Please."
"You said four," you remind him weakly, and have to place your hands on his shoulders to keep him back. "Four kisses, and I get to go to work."
"Just this last one, I promise." His eyes are hooded and his pupils have been blown wide, dark. He paws at your waist. "I swear."
You feel your resolve crumbling. "You swear?"
"I swear," he murmurs.
"Alright," you say. You let him press you close to his body, and your lips to his lips.
(Good news: you weren’t late.
…News: You call in sick again.)
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jessybarnes · 8 months
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Al Min Kærlighed
Chapter Title - Nothing Else Matters
Pairing - Single!Lars x Reader
Other Characters - James Hetfield, Kirk Hammett, and Robert Trujillo
Tags - Angst, fluff, flashbacks of an abusive relationship, mentions of drinking, mentions of physical violence, crying, nightmares, hospitals, doctors, nurses, explicit language, and I think that's it.
Word Count - 1.7k
Unbeta’d - All mistakes are my own Y'all.
Fic Aesthetic - Yours Truly
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Sleep wasn't something you thought would come easy for you, but with the help of the medicine and Lars, it came rather quickly. You were soon jolted awake by a loud noise.  
What was that? Scraping? Banging? You opened your eyes to see if it was coming from your hospital room, but you soon realized that you weren't there. It was too dark to see anything, but the smell of stale beer and sweat filled your nostrils.
Oh God...you were home and the noises were probably Cole looking for you. Panic seized you and you prayed that this was a dream. Lars and James had been real right? They had to be. This couldn't be happening.
Even though it was too dark to see anything, you ran.  
The noises became louder as your heart thundered in your chest. Soon you heard him. Cole's cold icy voice yelling for you.
“Y/N!!!! C'mon Y/N. You know I was only kidding with you, right? I love you. Stop hiding and come out so we can have that talk you wanted.”
You kept running, trying to get away from him. It felt like the hallway was never-ending. This had to be a dream.  
Suddenly, you ran into something hard, and when you realized what it was you began to hyperventilate. Looking up with fearful eyes you saw his evil smile as he reached out and shook you.
“There you are my sweet. Let's go have that talk now shall we?”
“No... no please Cole... please just let me go....”
You felt around for something, anything, to grab so you could get away. Nothing was there. All you saw was blackness and Cole. The shaking continued as tears started to streak down your face.
“Y/N c'mon now. You know you can't escape me. I'll always be there. Everywhere you look, everything you hear, see, feel... it'll be me. Forever and always remember?”
You shook your head as tears kept streaming down your face. Finally, you opened your eyes again and saw Lars leaning over you with worried frantic eyes.
“Hey, sweetheart c'mere. Everything's okay now. It was just a dream. Shhhh just breathe. Take deep breaths in through your nose and out your mouth. That's it.”
Lars soothed you by pulling you to his chest and rubbing small circles on your back. You breathed in deep. His smelled so nice. You were used to smelling beer and smoke from Cole, but Lars smelled of...what was that...spices? Cinnamon?. You clutched his shirt with your left hand to keep yourself grounded. To make your mind see that it was only a dream.
You pulled back and finally looked into his eyes. He smoothed your hair away from your wet cheeks and wiped away your tears with his thumbs.
“There we go. See everything's alright. I'm right here. You're safe.”
He gently laid you back down on the sheets and got up from the chair to walk across the room. He came back a moment later with a pad of paper and a pen. He smiled as he passed them to you.
“Now can I finally put a name to your pretty face?"
Your cheeks flushed as you took the pen in your left hand and shakily placed it against the paper. He called you pretty! That couldn't be right though. You sure didn't feel pretty, let alone look it. Slowly you began to write your name as well as a thank you note and passed it over to him.
My name is Y/N, and I would like to say thank you for everything. You really didn't have to stay with me. I don't want to be a burden to you and James as well as the rest of your band. I am so grateful.
You could hear the ticking of the clock as Lars read your note. You pulled a string on the blanket nervously as you awaited his reply. He set the notepad and pen at the foot of the bed and gently grasped your hand. He looked into your Y/E/C eyes as he spoke seriously and truthfully to you.
“Y/N huh? What a pretty name for a pretty face. I must tell you that you are not a bother to James or myself, nor are you hindering our band in any way. My concern is with you and what happened to you. I don't know, it's like I feel responsible for you in some way. Like, I know you can probably take care of yourself, but for right now you need someone there. I feel compelled to be that someone."
Lars smiled softly at you, his eyes shining with affection.
"How would you like to come with us when you leave here? You won't have to worry about anything. Money won't be an issue, and neither will transportation. Unless you have something or someone keeping you here? Is there someone here that you need to stay for Y/N?”
Your eyes watered as you reached for the notepad. Lars handed it to you and you began to write a response.
You want me to go with you? I... I don't know what to say. Wouldn't I be in the way? I have no one left here that cares about me. I have no ties to this place. I planned to move to California once I saved up $200 more dollars, but now that won't happen because of the bill from this hospital visit. I truly want to go with you, but I also don't want your invitation to be out of pity.
You wiped the tears that escaped your eyes and passed the notepad back to Lars. Your bottom lip quivered and he rubbed your leg gently as he read what you wrote.
“Y/N, I can promise you there is no pity behind my invitation. Like I said, I feel the need to help you. I won't push, but when you're ready I need to know what happened to you. As far as your hospital bill being too costly, there is no bill. James and I have that covered for you. The way we see it is, you need help, and we make enough as it is. You stumbled into our dressing room beat up and barely alive, and we brought you back from that edge. We've said it before and I will say it for us again, we are glad you pulled through.”
You couldn't hold back your cries then. You put your head in your hands and began to sob. There was no bill, and you had been asked to go with the greatest heavy metal band on tour? This was just too good to be true. These men were angels in disguise. You felt strong arms envelope you in a hug, and you knew it was safe. He let you cry while whispering to you that it was going to be okay. You pulled back and licked your lips again and cleared your throat. You were going to try to talk. You needed to properly thank him.
“Th-Thank you, Lars. I can't...thank you enough... for... for what you've done for me...”
You saw Lars' eyes water then and he brought your hand up to his lips. He pressed a feather-light kiss to your knuckles and smoothed his thumb over them.
“You're most welcome Y/N. Now let me get the doctor and call James so we can make arrangements to get your stuff from your house. Unless you don't want us to? I mean we can always just get you new things. Is there anything you need that's sentimental to you? I think we can whip you into being a great assistant to Metallica. Lord knows we need one!”
You shook your head and gave a short reply.
"Nothing sentimental. I want to go with you."
He winked at you and stood up to grab his phone. Punching in what had to be James' number he placed his free hand on his hip and stalked toward the window of your room. You weren't paying any attention to what he was saying, but you were checking him out.
He had this assertiveness about him, this confidant stance that made your knees weak. You were always a sucker for the confident ones. His accent was something else that made your pulse a little higher than it should be. He had solid muscles on his arms and calloused fingers. Definitely the arms of a drummer.
You loved percussion and wished you knew how to play, but you ended up in Orchestra and the Viola was your baby back in the day. You noticed that he wasn't talking to James anymore, but was staring at you. Crap! How long had you been staring and when did he notice? He smiled at you and moved to sit down next to you again. You hoped he wouldn't notice the blush creeping up the side of your neck.
“James is on his way up here to discuss how we are gonna do this. Now let's get Dr. Anderson in here to see when you can be released.”
He pressed the nurse call button on your little hand-held device and the little red light came on. A few moments later Amanda came in. You really like her. She had been a great nurse.
“Hey there, how are you feeling?”
You went to say that you needed Dr. Anderson, but Lars jumped in before you could so you let him take control.
“She seems better Amanda, could we by chance see Dr. Anderson? I believe Y/N is feeling like she could go home.”
“Sure thing! Let me give him a call and he should be in to see you shortly to discuss what happened as well as when you can be discharged.”
With that, Amanda left the room, and you turned your attention back to Lars. You knew that you needed to tell him what happened, but you were afraid. Not because you thought that he would change his mind, but because you knew that he would want to confront Cole. You didn't want to see Lars or James get hurt. Not because of you.
You sighed and made your decision. Despite what you thought about them getting hurt, you told Lars everything. Told him how you kept a private savings account, worked overtime, took care of the house you and Cole shared, and put up with his threats and abuse. You laid everything out on the table. He watched you with sad angry eyes. It was only a matter of time before he told James, and you knew they would go see Cole.
It was inevitable.
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He’s so golden retriever puppy 🥺
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algea · 28 days
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Ghoul School
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prompt: you, Lucky, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lars go to investigate a spirit infested school, but ends badly for you.
Ummm basically enemies to lovers?? idrk tbh LOL
warnings: idk scary stuff? cussing! sexual tension! um you smoke 1 cigarette and thats it. GORE!!!!!!!
a/n: I’ve been thinking of this since I saw the movie…
*THIS IS A SUPER LONG STORY!!!*
“A school? Are you serious, Lars?” You mutter, running a hand down your face and sighing.
“I wish. What’s your grudge against a school anyway?” Lars said, cocking an eyebrow at you as he turned to look at you.
“Well I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that kids still go there. It makes me sick how they have to experience that while being in an environment where it’s supposed to be safe and welcoming.” You explain, tapping your fingers nervously on your desk. Behind you, Lars sighed,
“Well that’s why we’re going innit? So stop worrying about it so much.” You snapped your head when heard the door open. In trudged a slime covered Trevor, Lucky, and Phoebe.
“Lars, I need your help with something!” Lucky called. Lars stood and strode to her, his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than they should’ve. Trevor had a proton pack on his back, which was slightly smoking from the interior.
"Piece of shit only fizzed when we tried to turn it on, know a way to fix it?" Trevor asked, gazing up at Lars. Lars' face was stone cold, probably because he had to deal with the dumb shit Trevor stirred up.
"First off, it's not a piece of shit. Second off, did you even try to figure it out?" Lars scoffed, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.
"Give it to me, I'll see what I can do." He sighed, obviously not wanting to deal with him anymore. Trevor basically shoved the proton pack into Lars’ arms, which didn't waiver when he received it. Hot. You thought. Lars trudged to his station and set the proton pack down. He removed the protective covering, and coughed when smoke blasted in his face. You snickered, which earned an unimpressed glare from him. Lucky appeared beside you, ready to talk about what else you've come up with her to test.
"What is it?" She asked, tinkering with the item on the desk.
"You know how there's buckshot for a shotgun? I've figured out how to compress protons into little pellets and create a buckshot-type stream." You explained, showing her how it would work on a sheet of paper. You heard Lars muttering about something, though you brushed it off. You handed Lucky a few pellets, which contained about 12 rounds of buckshot each. She eagerly shot off into the test room, excited to try it out. With nothing else to do, you shuffled behind Lars, peering over his shoulder to watch his hands work efficiently. Lars really didn't know you were there, truly he didn't. So when he turned around to go get something from his desk, he jumped back.
"Good Christ you scared the shit out of me!" Lars exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest and letting out a big sigh. He shoved his glasses back up his face and ran a hand through his hair.
"I'm sorry! I just wanted to watch you work..." You trailed off, staring at the ground in embarrassment.
"Well maybe next time maybe fucking keep to yourself." He snapped, brushing past you, his hand grazing yours. You just stood there, hands clenched and cheeks burning in embarrassment. Phoebe stood next to you, putting a hand on your arm and whispering,
"It's ok, really, he doesn't mean it."
You couldn't help the tear that slithered down your cheek. Blinking away the rest of the tears, you muttered an 'excuse me' and walked outside of the lab. Taking a left, you headed through the doors to the cool breeze outside. Stuffing your hand in you pocket, your hand found purchase on the cig case you had. Sliding one out of it and grabbing your lighter, you lit the cig up and shoved the lighter back into your left pocket. You sat against the wall and pulled your knees to your chest. Hearing the doors open, you see Trevor walk out. He spots you and slides down the wall, sitting next to you.
"It's not your fault. It really isn't." Trevor offered, watching you let out a sigh, smoke going with it. You laugh, dragging a hand down your face.
"Listen, don't ever fall in love, man. Shit sucks." You sighed, resting your head against the cool brick. Trevor started to say something but the rest of the three burst through the doors. Lars was wearing his red jacket, walking towards the car. Lucky was carrying yours in her arm, right on the heels of Lars. He spotted you and Trevor sitting down against the wall. Trevor hopped up, offering you a kind hand. You took it, cigarette still in hand.
"Put that shit out." Lars commanded, crossing his arms. You glared at him before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out. You dropped the rest on the ground, twisting your foot against it which successfully put it out.
"Happy?" You huffed, throwing your arms out in surrender. He just stared at you before pushing past you to get to the car. 'Bitch' You mutter under your breath. God he’s insufferable. Following them, you hopped into the passage seat. Lucky handed you your red jacket, which you put on before you buckled up. You zipped it up all the way burying your face in the collar. Lars watched you from his peripheral, drumming his fingers on the wheel.
“Are gonna stare or drive the goddamn car?” You snapped, turning to gaze at him. His hand tightened on the wheel and started to drive.
To say that Lars was a good driver was a pretty big overstatement. You were even lucky you made it to the school alive, much less in once piece.
“You are never ever driving again, Lars.” You said, stumbling out of the car as a wave of nausea hits you.
“Stuff it.” He replied, pushing up his broken glasses. You turned your gaze to the school, which stood ominously in the distance. You shivered, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lars. He took a small step closer to you, his hand ghosting the small of your back. You jumped slightly at his feather touch, but relished it. Lars flicked on your switch, making your proton pack hum with the familiar ‘whirring’ sound. You walked to the front steps, pushing open the two massive double wooden doors. You were blasted by a cold air, which you stumbled back from.
“S-shit.” You muttered, hands shaking ever so slightly. You reached for your flashlight, but froze when you saw a shadow figure dart through the darkness.
“Lars.” You whispered, a lump forming in your throat. Lars was off busy helping the others get their packs on, which meant you were the only one at the front. You felt something tugging you forward. You stumbled back into the school following the tugging sensation to a room downstairs.
Lars looked up, about to ask you something, when he noticed you were gone.
“Where the bloody hell did Y/N go?” He asked, looking around. His question was answered when he heard your frantic screams coming from inside of the building. They all looked at each other, then bolted to the building.
The building was absolutely freezing. That you were certain of. The frigid temperature fucked a little with your head, at least that’s what you can conclude. You found that being able to see in the dark was not your forte, which caused you to fall down a flight of stairs.
“OH FUCKING SHIT—!” You screech, tumbling down the stairs. You landed with your head cracking against the cold floor. Groaning, you tried to lift your head, but you felt like you were spinning like a top. You eventually stood, swaying slightly after. You blinked a few times, holding your head in your hands. In the corner of your eye, you could see another shadow figure. It was tall, tall enough to reach the ceiling. It started to approach you, but you let out a scream, starting to run back up the stairs. You felt a push, then you tumbled back down the stairs, smashing your head into the pavement again. You landed on your knee, successfully snapping the bone in your shin. You let out another bloodcurdling scream, spitting out blood in the process.
You felt lightheaded as blood spilled from your shin and lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. You were in too much pain to cry as you crumpled to the floor again. You heard all three of them yelling your name, but you couldn’t yell back. Instead, you pulled yourself across the floor, leaving a long streak of blood as you went. With as much effort as you could muster, you pulled yourself to the steps. It took everything for you to scream,
“LARS!!!”
Footsteps could be heard, which sounded like heavy boots clomping towards you. You clawed at the steps, trying to grip anything that you could to pull yourself up. The blond man appeared in the doorway, shining a flashlight down the stairwell. Lars hair was tousled, eyes wide. You make out how he was panting, as well as a horrified look painted across his face.
“oh my god.” Was all he said. He rushed down the stairwell to get you. You couldn’t make out much of anything, you kept fading in and out of consciousness. His hands, his strong and elegant hands held your face as he tried to keep you awake. Your breaths became labored again as you felt extreme pain rippling through your limbs. You let out another scream, which was muffled by Lars chest as he picked you up and started to rush you outside. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, gently stroking it with his thumb as he ran to the car.
Lars felt like it took years to make it to the hospital. His red jacket was drenched in your blood, but he couldn’t care less about what he looked like as he rushed you into the ER. Immediately after, you were rushed into a room, where you would reside for God knows how long. Lars sat next to Lucky, his face grim. He didn’t care how long he had to wait to see you again, just as long as he could see you. Lars stayed there all night, into the morning to be able to see you. When they told him that he could see you, he ran to your room as fast as he could. There you laid, eyes closed, face peaceful. When you heard the footsteps, you opened your eyes and found the blond man standing in your doorway.
“Bloody hell, I thought I’d never see you again.” Lars breathed as he approached your right side. Your hand lay limp on the top of the bedsheet. He brought up a chair and sat, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.
“I was so scared that you were going to die, I couldn’t bear to see it.” He further explained. You smiled weakly and croaked,
“Are you being nice right now? That’s so unlike you Lars.”
Before you said anything else, Lars pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t your ideal first kiss with him, but you relished the feeling.
“I didn’t save you because I thought it was the good thing to do, I saved you because I love you.” Lars whispered, his nose brushing yours.
“God I love you too, Lars.” You whispered back.
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sardonic-the-writer · 1 month
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𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐛 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈��𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ notes: lars content yay! as far as i can tell, i'm one of the few to do anything on him, so i hope there's more than ten people out there interested in him
↳ warnings: none
↳ song: she blinded me with science—thomas dolby
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• This guy is a snacker
• Take one look at him. You can't tell me that he doesn't constantly skip out on meals in favor of research, usually just pulling a granola bar or stained tupperware from his desk drawer to eat while he works
• Don't get me wrong, Lars can still devour a good bit of food. Sometimes you like to make fun of him for how much good he'll get on his face in the process
• "You're looking at me weird." He frowned at you one day from behind the rims of his glasses
• "Uh, yeah. Wonder why." You grin with mild surprise, watching as leftover rice and beans from the burrito in his hands stuck to the corners of his mouth like glue. He was quick to wipe it all off, ignoring you as you laughed at him
• Aside from that, Lars usually keeps his workplace pretty clean. It's cluttered, sure, but you don't think you've ever seen him wonder where something went. He just always knew where things were. It was like he had a system in his head, and the more you thought about it, the more you decided he definitely did
• The one time someone had even tried to clean his place up, you watched as he immediately jumped in, convincing them that they were needed elsewhere and sending them off before they could mess with his set-up
• Often times, when it's just the two of you alone in the offsight lab, you'll bounce a tennis ball off the wall while Lars types away, only ever looking up to squint at you when the ball gets to close to his head
• "You should really give that to the possesor. I'm sure it'd appreciate it." He hums to you at one point while spinning around in his chair to reach something. Behind you, you hear the unmistakable sound of a metal chair tapping excitedly on glass, and you make a tsking noise
• "Pretty sure you just want me to stop distracting you with my awesome skills." You boast, attempting to do a trickshot only to smack Lars in the back. He glares at you, and you inch backward with a nervous chuckle
• "You know what, I think I'll give it to the possesor."
• "What a brilliant idea." Lars says monotonely. You were quick to get rid of the ball
• He hums while he works!
• It's not anything discernable. In fact, most of the time he isn't even singing real songs. Just little tunes he'll make up on the spot for himself; often as a way to pass the time and make minute tasks fly by
• You notice it quite a lot, but don't really say anything. It's quite entertaining, if you're being truthful
• "Sittin' and waitin' for food. Sittin' and waitin' for food.." He'd improvised once while waiting yet again for a t.v dinner of his to finish its cycle in the labs shared microwave
• "Wow Lars. Voice of an angel, you have."
• "Stuff it."
• Lars doesn't often need help with his work, there's a reason he landed the job after all, but when he does, you're always the first person he goes to. It's a side effect of having spent so much time with you at work, and even outside of it—if you counted lunch breaks and independent experiments as a non-work environment
• He likes being able to get a fresh set of eyes on whatever's stumping him, and it usually doesn't take long for the two of you to work around whatever was holding him up
• Overall, you couldn't think of a better friend/co-worker to have, and the same applies for Lars. Your relationship will only strengthen as time goes on, even withstanding the bizzar experiences that Garraka eventually brings later that year
• But that's for much later. Right now, the two of you are content to sit in the aquarium-turned-headquarters, watching as the hours ticked by without a care in the world
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princessofdorkness · 3 months
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Me: Nah I try not to judge people too much.
My face in public:
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gimme-noodles-please · 4 months
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lars and clarence new event card in cn server 👀
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vaginalsauce · 1 year
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Caught
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warnings;
smut, fingering, unprotected, cockwarming?, mentions of being high, nicknames, semipublic, exhibition
a/n;
just a funny lil smut drabble, kirk is so yummy fr
summary;
You, Kirk, James, Cliff, and Lars have a movie night on tour, and it leads to you and Kirk doin some naughty naughty.
...............................................
The movie was nearing the halfway mark, but your head was too fogged up to pay attention. Kirk had his hand on your thigh, and was progressively sliding it higher and higher. You were positive he could feel the heat radiating from your cunt, hear your heartbeat, hear your breathing stagger.
The group had scattered around the hotel room, focused intently on the movie playing from the VHS.
You carefully spread your thighs, as Lars was laying at the foot of the bed. Kirk smirked to himself, leaning into your ear and pressing a kiss to the skin right below your earlobe. "Be quiet, baby."
His whisper sent shivers down your spine, and you almost lurched forward when he cupped your cunt, rubbing you through your shorts. "Think you can take these off for me?" He mumbled, tracing the hem. You nodded subtly, glancing around for a moment.
Never before have you been so grateful for a blanket in your life.
You let out a shaky breath as you gently lifted your hips, slipping the shorts down your thighs. No one even glanced, just assumed you were getting comfortable. Of course, even if they knew, it wasn't like they'd care much.
Kirk grinned, pushing your underwear to the side and immediately tracing a finger through your slick folds. You let out a shaky moan, to which you covered up with a cough, but with the glance you saw James and Kirk exchange, James was catching on.
It wasn't long before Kirk easily slid a finger into you, watching you closely out if the corner if his eye as your face threatened to twist into pleasure.
Your thighs almost closed, but Kirk caught your leg with his, keeping it pulled wide as he slowly began to pump his finger in and out of you, watching as you threw your head back. "Focus, pretty girl, gotta focus." He mumbled, just low enough as to not alert the others.
You were now pretty sure you were about to cry. Fuck, you just loved his fingers, but without the ability to vocalize your enjoyment, it was surprisingly frustrating. You raised your hips a bit to match with his hand movements, letting out a gasp as he curled his finger.
That got their attention.
"What was that, Y/N?" James chuckled, teasing. He knew for sure what was happening, but he wasn't gonna say anything. As for Cliff and Lars, they were clueless.
Kirk turned to look at you, his eyes big and focused on your face, tilting his head as if to act confused. "U-Uh, just thought I f...forgot to lock the door wh... uh.. when we left."
Kirk was making it so hard for you to talk. If it wasn't for the fact you usually talked slow when you were stoned, they would've been extremely concerned.
Lars shrugged, turning back to the TV.
"So wet for me, baby. Does this turn you on? Getting off on my fingers, just feet away from our friends?" Kirk's whispers were low and raspy, his mouth hanging open slightly as you arched your back against his chest, and your ass rubbing against the very prominent bulge in his pants.
"Kirk, baby, they're gonna know--" Kirk cut you off with a nip to your neck, kissing the marks softly right after. His fingers moved in and out of you slowly, before Kirk removed them completely.
Kirk lifted his hips up and unbuttoned his pants, tugging them and his boxers down as far down as he could without being noticed.
He pulled you back up to sit on him again, his pretty cock nestled perfectly between your lips.
"Feel how hard I am for you, honey? Need to be in this pretty pussy, 'kay? Gotta be quiet f'me. Can you do that?" Kirk muttered, hand reaching around you again to slowly grope at your tits from under your shirt. He pulled and tugged on your nipples, before releasing them and just running his fingers over the swollen buds.
"Kirk, I--" You were cut off by a loud shushing noise from Lars, earning a piece of popcorn being launched at him from James.
"You're literally being louder than them by doing that, you idiot."
While the bickering between James and Lars ensued, Kirk took the chance to lift you up and pull you down onto his cock, letting his head fall back. He bit the insides of his cheeks, and you let out a loud moan. All the heads in the room snapped to look at you, including Kirk's.
"No. No no no no no-- you are not--" Lars jumped up quickly, yelling loudly. James let out a loud cackle, and you just watched in horror as Lars began to yell.
You felt Kirk give a small thrust, just chuckling.
"Dude, I was going to sleep on that bed! I was two fucking feet away from You! Are you still-- Get out of her, dude, at least go somewhere else--!"
Kirk pulled the blanket from the bed, wrapping you in it after he pulled out. Not bothering to fix his pants, he picked you up bridal style, and packed you into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
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This is the first smut I've written in a literal year I am so sorry
991 notes · View notes
ken-dom · 6 months
Text
Prioritise Pleasure
Lars Lindstrom x gn!reader
1.6k words
Summary: You help an embarrassed Lars learn to enjoy pleasure and embrace his desires (or, you want to make him cum but he’s nervous about it)
Author’s notes: this little fic was inspired by an idea from @ken-f-cker, encouraged by @hollandstrophyhusband, supported by @heresthestorymorningglory and exists because I just can’t leave this poor man alone. On that note, if anyone wants a part 2 of this with afab!reader, let me know! The title is taken from the album name of one of my Lars songs 🫶
Warnings/content: nsfw, hand job, subby Lars, dubious consent (relating to his orgasm), crying, praise
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Lars felt so soft and warm beneath you, your leg hooked comfortably over his knee and your head resting on his slowly rising and falling chest where you listened to the steady rhythm of his contented heart. Your fingers toyed with the hem of his sweater and now and again you heard his heart jump when your skin met his under all those layers he wore.
His arm was wrapped firmly around your shoulders, strong and secure. Lars was stronger than even he knew, and butterflies soared in your stomach every time he displayed it, even in a subtle way like this. He made you feel safe.
You could have stayed like that forever, but everything must come to an end eventually, and the ending here was unexpected but actually very welcome.
Lars kissed the top of your head after you’d made him laugh with a silly joke. The warmth of his lips pressed to your hair was momentary, and he hadn’t even really realised he’d done it, but something in the air immediately shifted at that small affection and before you had a chance to really even process it, you found yourself sliding up his chest to meet his soft lips with your own.
He gasped when you pulled back for breath, diving forward, his head hovering above the pillow to smash his lips back onto yours with a fervour you’d only ever seen in him when he’d taken his temper out on the unsuspecting logs outside.
Lips sealed to yours, he hungrily sucked your tongue into his mouth, fingertips driving into your arms to keep you still above him while he eagerly explored your mouth.
Even with him laid beneath you, the force of his kiss was dizzying. You braced yourself with a steady palm against his chest, hiking your knee up further to steady yourself.
You felt Lars shudder, and with a whine so quiet you almost missed it, the kiss came to a jarring (and disappointing) halt.
You pushed yourself up further to see what was the matter, and as you manoeuvred, your thigh slipped down a little, and you felt it. The unavoidable, solid length between Lars’s thighs, pressed against your leg.
You stared down at him in awe, his eyes squeezed shut, kiss-swollen lips parted to let out shaky, uneven breaths, cheeks glowing red… and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. And to make him moan this time.
You pushed your thigh higher between his legs, pressing perfectly against his clothed cock, and, writhing against you, he whimpered with each trembling breath, the sound a simultaneous beg for more while chastising himself for wanting it.
‘Lars?’ you cooed softly, gently placing your palm to his burning cheek, which seemed to calm him somewhat.
He stopped bucking up against you and his face scrunched up with frustration and embarrassment, but he nodded and let out another nervous little whine of acknowledgement.
‘Hey, it’s ok… see?’
You slid the hand caressing his face down over his sweater, feeling his breath catch, and lower until you were cupping the bulge in his trousers.
Lars let out a stream of quick breaths, rendered unable to move. Had he ruined everything with his untimely bout of arousal? And why did it feel so good?
‘Lars, I’m ok with this… are you?’
He only blinked rapidly in response, so lost in a haze of pleasure and panic that he barely heard your words while he tried to process all the new feelings swirling around inside him.
With one swift stroke of your palm to bring him back to you, you tried again; ‘Lars, do you want this?’
He nodded sharply. ‘Mmhmm-’
He couldn’t manage to formulate words right now, not with your hand on his twitching, leaking cock. But you understood.
You rolled your wrist again, rubbing a steady, continuous rhythm over his length through the thick fabric of his trousers, your movements slow and careful, and his back arched off the bed with a low groan.
‘Easy, baby,’ you soothed, slowing a little to get him used to the feeling before your skin met his. He looked like he might cum any second and as hot as that might be, you wanted to give him something to remember.
‘I’m gonna get these trousers unfastened, alright?’
Another quick nod from Lars, and another hum.
You made mindful work of freeing his straining cock from the confines of his trousers, opening them up just enough to slip your hand inside his underwear, not wanting to overwhelm him with nudity on top of everything else. There would be plenty of time for that later.
He smiled when you settled beside him, but as your warm fingers slipped past the elastic of his underwear and wrapped loosely around his cock, he cried out a high pitched, ‘Ahh!’ and began rutting his hips up to meet the gentle massaging of your fist.
‘Does that feel good?’ you whispered, watching his face contort in bliss.
‘Y-yes,’ he managed, ‘f-feels… so… ohhh- mmmh-’
‘You’re doing so well for me,’ you praised, swiping your thumb over his already oozing tip to collect a satisfyingly thick pearl of precum and smear it down his length.
‘N-never- I’ve never- oh!-’
His head flew back into the pillow, fists grabbing desperately at the duvet beneath him.
He’s trying not to cum, you thought with a smirk.
‘I- I’ve never- ohhh-’ he tried again, struggling against the crashing waves of pleasure overpowering his ability to think clearly enough to finish a sentence.
‘It’s alright,’ you soothed, ‘I know. I’ve got you.’
You watched Lars closely as you worked your hand carefully, memorising every flicker of pleasure over his soft features, every needy little sound that escaped his parted lips, every desperate little thrust of his hips. His hair had fallen over his forehead in loose, messy strands, and his eyes had turned delightfully dark in the shadow of it.
You could feel him tensing, each muscle in his body rapidly switching from relaxed to taut to relaxed again; his release was close. You pumped faster, almost frantically, to get him there, and his hand flew to your wrist.
‘Mmh… I’m- ohh! Oh, no, please, I’m gonna… s-stop… stop, please, before I-’
‘Cum for me, Lars,’ you encouraged, making him shudder as you slowed again to the gentle pace that seemed to drive him crazy.
He was so deliciously sensitive, responding just how you’d hoped to the sensual rhythm of long, slow strokes.
A strangled cry tore from his throat as he rolled his hips in time with your ministrations. ‘No, n-no, I can’t, I-’
‘It’s alright, you’re safe, I’ve got you,’ you reminded him. ‘Cum.’
‘N-no- I- I shouldn’t, I- stop! Oh!- ah!- ohh-ughhhh-nnmmmh!’
The strong fingers wrapped around your wrist squeezed tighter, burning your skin in their searing grip, but you managed to keep up the rhythm of your fist until he couldn’t fight his climax any longer and you finally brought him off, pumping just a little harder as his orgasm ripped through his body.
Lars’s hands flew to his face, covering his pleasure-pained expression as he thrashed against the bed, spilling and spilling his release up out of his underwear, staining the hem of his sweater and coating your hand.
His chest heaved with loud, ragged breaths as he came down from his high, trembling as his cock softened and twitched with aftershocks.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whined under his breath the moment you pulled your hand out of his underwear, ‘I’m so sorry!’
You gently guided his hands down from his tear-stained face and wiped his eyes with tender fingertips.
You saw his lip tremble, so you leant in to press your own lips to his again.
‘Lars,’ you breathed as you pulled away, ‘you did so good for me, baby.’
His eyes, big and round and wet, stared into yours semi-hopefully. ‘I… I did?’
‘You did. And I think you needed that, didn’t you?’
His cheeks flushed somehow redder, and he averted his gaze, nodding. ‘I’ve never… never been… touched like that before. I was worried you wouldn’t want me to… y’know, so I felt kind of nervous letting go. I'm sorry about the mess.’
‘Are you kidding? I wanted to make you cum the moment I laid eyes on you.’
Lars squeezed his eyes shut, unable to believe what you were saying and mildly embarrassed by your bluntness. You really thought of him that way the whole time?
‘Listen to me. You never, ever, need to apologise for enjoying pleasure, alright?’
His eyebrows raised as he gazed across at you, awe-filled eyes still glossy. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth before he spoke again. ‘So, uhm…’ he cleared his throat, ‘if I wanted to make you feel like that…?’
‘You can. And you will. When you’re ready.’
Lars nodded, brow furrowing as he fell into deep thought.
‘It’s alright. When the time comes, I’ll guide you, ok?’
Lars’s concern softened into a smile. The Lars you were used to.
‘Ok,’ he agreed.
You propped yourself up on an elbow to assess the gorgeous mess he’d made, core clenching at the dishevelled state of him, laid out with his legs spread, trousers unfastened, underwear damp with his seed, sweater stained, hair mussed, face hot. You needed to remember him in this moment. He was beautiful.
‘Now, how about a bath?’
‘W-will you join me?’ Lars muttered, feeling bold but still unsure, fighting the sleepiness that had begun to pull at his eyes with all the strength he had.
The grin that spread across your face was answer enough, but you nodded anyway, and he briefly buried his face into your chest, giggling sweetly, unable to believe his luck.
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ilongfor-the-arts · 2 years
Note
hi,,, :) i love you and your writing. i usually don’t fangirl over writers like this but i genuinely love the way you describe everything, you’re such an amazing writer and you honestly deserve the world!
now on to my devious (not so devious request, that by the way, you totally don’t have to do if you’re uncomfortable or anything, i’ll understand!)
i’ve been on this kirk rampage and was wondering if you could write something involving the reader being a virgin and kirk being their best friend and one night the topic comes up and they decide to yk… do it? but kirk makes a big show out of it and it ends up with him being very soft and loving and somewhere in there he confesses his love and how he’s head over heels for them?
Taboo Shit
Pairing: Kirk Hammett x fem! Reader
Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), loss of virginity, language, talks of sex, unprotected sex
Summary: *in request*
Word Count: 4.5k
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I always assumed that once he became a famous guitarist, late nights spent on the couch watching horror movies with my best friend would be a thing of the past. To my surprise, however, Kirk almost always made time for me despite his hectic schedule, even if it was only for a few hours.
As the B-list horror film dragged on in the background, I gripped a half-full beer bottle by the neck and rested my body against the back of the couch. Neither Kirk nor I were paying attention, as the real purpose of these evenings wasn't to watch movies. These were the nights for catching up on each other's lives and gossiping about taboo topics that only best friends could discuss amongst each other.
A frequent topic of movie nights was sex.
Despite harboring a giant sexual secret I usually was able to avoid talking about my sex life and instead expertly twisted the conversation back to groupies.
“How are the girls on the road, Kirk? Are they nice?”
I already knew the answer to this question as I had discussed this topic with him many times before. But if the awkward silence was left unattended, I feared his mind would conjure up questions I did not want to answer.
Okay Y/N, what’s your craziest sexual experience?
What’s the weirdest place you’ve fucked?
Be honest with me, how many people have you had sex with?
I rolled my head to the side so that my cheek would now rest against the rough couch cushions. Kirk was focusing on the television, his tanned skin and most pronounced features being highlighted by a bright white light. Despite having his eyes glued to the screen, he wasn't watching the movie. His gaze seemed to be traveling through the television and into another realm. He shrugged nonchalantly.
“I would not use the word nice to describe the girls at our shows.”
Kirk said with a chuckle, his quick laugh momentarily revealing his white teeth.
“But the novelty of groupies wore off a long, long time ago. So…”
Kirk shook his head, his lips pursed into a thin line.
“Don’t ask me.”
I furrowed my brow.
Kirk, not a man who enjoys wild, unprotected sex?
No way in hell.
“You’re not a groupie guy?”
Kirk licked his lips in response to the slightly suggestive nature of the conversation.
“Well… I didn’t say that.”
He cocked his head so that his brown eyes were staring straight into mine, and he grinned broadly.
“I’m not saying I don’t fuck the occasional groupie. Cause I definitely do. And I most likely fuck more than the average man.”
There it was. Despite his mostly soft personality at his core he still is, and always will be, a rockstar.
“But I don’t fuck just anyone… when I fuck a girl I make sure there’s a little something about her that’ll make the experience memorable.”
I scoffed.
“Wow Kirk. I never thought you were a man of taste.”
I said sarcastically. Kirk rolled his eyes.
“I never said that.”
The soft sounds of people talking filled the brief moments of silence between us. But the distant voices had transformed into white noise. However, these conversations were occasionally interrupted by screams, reminding us that a horror film was still playing on the screen.
“I’m just saying if you won’t remember the sex a week after you’ve had it then what’s the point of having it at all?”
Kirk spoke while waving the beer bottle through the air, emphasizing certain points.
“For example, I bet you a million bucks James couldn’t name half the groupies he’s fucked in the last two months.”
Kirk pointed at me, beer bottle in hand.
“But I can name 90 percent of the ones I’ve fucked.”
Kirk was fully engrossed in the conversation, his arms flailing about as he thoroughly explained the art of groupies to me.
“You want quality over quantity, y'know? You don’t want experiences that last half an hour and then are forgotten memories by the next day. You want experiences that stick inside your mind. You want experiences that you’ll fucking touch yourself too a month later.”
Kirk’s voice was proper, as if he was giving a public speech on how to end world hunger. But the topic was so sleazy that my mind hung on every single word while anxiously anticipating the next sentence.
I wish I could get a few experiences like that under my belt.
Hell, just one.
“You're a crazy man, Kirk Hammett.”
I twisted my head until my gaze was drawn to the pale ceiling above me. The cold bottle had become warm, and the condensation made my hands slick. As I raised the bottle to my mouth, it almost slipped from my grasp due to its dampness. Because my head was cocked back at an odd angle, I had to strain to swallow the flat liquid. After finishing the last few drops, the empty bottle fell to my lap.
“How are the boys in your life? Are they nice?”
I sighed, the relaxed atmosphere of the room making it difficult to react with any emotion.
“What boys?”
I asked. Kirk scoffed.
“Well, I suppose I should say men.”
Hell, it didn’t make a difference to me. There were no boys in my life and there definitely weren't any men in my life.
“Are we referring to the men in my family? Because if that’s-“
“Come on Y/N don’t play dumb. I’m talking about boyfriends. I’m talking about fuck buddies. I’m talking about random hookups in the dirty bar bathrooms.”
Kirk was becoming agitated, and I couldn't blame him. I've been avoiding his questions about sex for years, yet I still feel as if I have a right to question him about the same topics.
“Obviously I’m not talking about your goddamn family members.”
I licked my lips, not in the mood to reach for chapstick.
“Don’t ask me about that, Kirk.”
“But all you do is ask me about sex!”
Shit. I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
There was a pause in conversation.
“No, you're completely fine. God, I’m such a fucking idiot. I’m sorry for snapping at you I’m just curious why you’re so reluctant to talk about sex when all you ask me about is sex.”
Would Kirk still think of me the same why if I confessed the true reason why I always asked him about his sex life?
I was a virgin.
And hearing his crazy, very hot sex stories allowed me to live vicariously through Kirk. I'd force myself to stay awake into the late hours of the night just so I could touch myself while my neighbors were hopefully asleep. Typically these fantasies would consist of whatever wild stories Kirk had told me a few nights prior. I would insert myself into these situations and imagine that I was making sweet love with any hot guy that had been heavy on my mind.
“I guess I don’t have any interesting stories to tell.”
I mumbled almost incoherently.
I didn’t want to cast a glance at Kirk because the idea of sex was now floating haphazardly around my brain. And what I hated to admit, was that after these long nights of wonderful masturbation I would drift off to sleep. Sometimes, in my sleep, I’d experience the same fantasy that I had touched myself to just moments prior. Except Kirk would replace whatever man I had imagined making love to me before.
“Come on Y/N, every adult has at least one slightly interesting sex story to tell.”
I didn’t.
I didn’t have any.
I didn’t want to open my eyes in fear that I’d confess to everything at the mere sight of Kirk’s deep brown eyes and sly smirk.
“How else would you fit in at parties?”
I always assumed these wet dreams were just a mere figment of my wild subconscious, nothing more. However, these vivid images began to creep into my conscious mind, making my life ten times more difficult whenever I somehow caught Kirk's soft scent of worn leather and stale liquor.
“Okay how about this.”
Kirk noticed that I wasn't groveling at his feet and spilling my deepest secrets from a moment of failed convincing.
“How did you lose your virginity?”
Shit.
I can’t say I didn’t see this coming.
But I hate that we have come to this point.
I simply tried to keep my cool and conceal the fact that my heart was pounding inside my chest. I could only hope that the television's white light wasn't exposing my hot (and definitely flushed red) cheeks. My eyes remained closed as I fidgeted with the loose corners of the beer bottle label, attempting to release the nervous energy that had built up within my limbs.
“Why do you wanna know that?”
I couldn't hide the slight voice crack that occurred at the end of my sentence as I raised my voice to conclude the question.
Fuck.
I was screwed.
Kirk had backed me up into a corner and wasn’t moving out of my way anytime soon.
“Because everyone has at least a slightly interesting loss of virginity story. I mean, unless you live in a movie, losing your virginity is almost never an amazing experience.”
I gulped.
I could always make something up.
“Alright. I’ll tell you since you seem so fucking interested.”
The bright white light stung my retinas as my eyelids slowly fluttered open. Oh, it was brighter than I had anticipated. Kirk is likely to notice the deep red blush on top of my cheekbones. I sat up, my spine straight against the back of the couch. I set my beer down on the coffee table in front of us, ensuring that I slow my movements to give me time to conjure a lie.
“I am eager.”
I turn my head, my breath hitching in my throat as Kirk leaned into me, eager to hear my juicy story. Little did he know the close proximity did little to quell my rapid heart beat or the dull ache forming between my thighs.
“There was this guy… in highschool.”
I didn’t sound convincing.
I didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.
Kirk cocked an eyebrow, clearly suspicious.
Shit. I couldn’t lie.
I mean, I could. But did I really want to?
The last thing I wanted was to become caught in a web of lies that would definitely result in me becoming trapped in my own words.
“Shit Kirk.”
I sighed.
“I can’t lie to you.”
Creases formed in between Kirk’s eyebrows.
“Lie? Lie about what?”
I swallowed. A large lump was forming inside my dry throat.
“I can’t tell you a loss of virginity story because I don’t have one.”
Kirk leaned back, placing distance between us.
“Shit Y/N… are you tryna tell me you’re-“
“A virgin?”
I interrupted.
“Yup. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Kirk moved his tongue slowly along his bottom lip, carefully calculating his next move. He stared blankly into my eyes, his expression devoid of any emotion that would indicate what was going through his mind.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Kirk inched closer.
“I’m not kidding you.”
Kirk set his beer bottle on the wooden coffee table. He extended his hand, his rough palm resting atop my knee. I tried not to think about Kirk's unbelievably large hand completely encircling my kneecap while I kept my gaze fixed on his lustful eyes.
“Tell me Y/N, what’s a pretty girl like you still doing as a virgin?”
Kirk inched closer until our sides were pressed together. Heat radiated off his thin body in strong waves, instantly raising my internal temperature.
Shit. Was it hot in here, or was it just me?
I craned my neck back, trying to create as much space as possible between our faces. If our lips were any closer, the strong magnetic force pulling my body towards him would force me to end the wonderful foreplay.
“I don’t know.”
I muttered under my breath. My voice would be inaudible if Kirk wasn't positioned inches away from me.
“Does the thought of sex make you nervous?”
His open palm began to move upwards, eventually halting once he reached the hem of my skirt. I was so touch deprived that a simple caress of my thigh was already making me wet.
My hands balled into fists. I wanted to touch Kirk. I wanted to run my hands through his hair and drag my nails down his bare chest. But the timing wasn't quite right. So I clenched my fists on my lap, my knuckles white as my nails dug into my palms.
“No… I-I couldn’t really tell you why.”
It wasn't a complete fabrication. I could have gotten my hands on someone desperate and simply bitten the bullet.
However, I did not.
So there must be a reason for my refusal to lose my virginity, right?
Even if my mind refused to accept whatever the true reason for my innocence was, there was undoubtedly one hidden under the web of confusion.
Kirk’s hand inched further upwards, under the hem of my skirt.
“Is this okay?”
Kirk inquired, his tone softening with sympathy for my helpless self. His pinky brushed against my clothed clit, eliciting a subtle groan from the back of my throat. I pursed my lips together to conceal my desire, but the smirk playing on Kirk’s lips let me know that my efforts were futile.
Fuck.
I caught Kirk’s wonderful scent that never fails to send a wave of heat directly to my core.
“Yes. It’s okay.”
I nodded, the blood rushing from my cheeks to my cunt as Kirk cupped my soaking wet heat through my thin panties.
“Can I kiss you?”
Kirk brought his face impossibly towards mine until our noses brushed together lightly. Kissing seemed so… Intimate. I’ve kissed before, but typically I kiss just for the purpose of kissing. Kissing while knowing what it’ll inevitably lead to made my stomach drop.
“Okay.”
But kissing Kirk Hammett was a risk I was most definitely willing to take. My eyes drifted towards his lips, taking a mental image of his plush mouth before he closed the space between us. I quickly lost myself in the sensation of his lips as they were delightfully soft. My hands quickly entwined themselves in the curly strands of his hair as I exhaled deeply into the kiss.
“Please tell me you’ve kissed someone before.”
Kirk said sarcastically against my lips. I playfully smacked his cheek, being careful as to not disturb the chemistry happening between our connected mouths.
“Of course I’ve kissed someone before.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He asked. I pulled back until I could stare comfortably into Kirk’s eyes.
“Um. Yes, I’m sure.”
I said, confused. Kirk flashed me a smirk before pushing my panties to the side and running two fingers up my wet slit. My eyes fluttered shut as his calloused fingertips brushed against my swollen clit.
“You’re so fucking wet already baby and I’ve barely even touched you. Only people who haven’t kissed someone get this wet from a little peck.”
My head gently fell to Kirk’s shoulder, my hand instinctively grasping his wrist to guide his movements. I didn’t have time to be ashamed about my unveiled desire. My body could only yearn for the next step of the process.
“Please don’t stop.”
I begged, my tone breathy, nails digging into his wrist.
“Is my poor little baby touch starved? Do you need me to play with your pretty little pussy?”
Kirk said, tutting sarcastically. I grit my teeth, his tone so sexy that it nearly made me cum atop his fingers.
“Yes…”
My voice trailed off as Kirk pressed his fingertips to my swollen bud, rubbing agonizingly slow figure eights onto my clit. I groaned in pleasure, my free hand engulfing Kirk’s neck to hold him impossibly closer to me.
“Please just-“
I gulped.
“Make me cum Kirk… I fucking need it.”
Kirk’s hair tickled my forehead while gradually increasing the movements of his fingers. I bucked my hips towards Kirk’s hand, groaning when he slowed down as a result of my desperation.
“Relax baby… I’ll make you cum.”
Kirk tilted his head to the side and tenderly placed a kiss on my temple. Without warning, he plunged two long fingers knuckle deep inside of me, thrusting them upwards against my spongy walls. My entire body convulsed, back arching as a spark of pleasure jolted through my insides, my stomach flipping.
“Fuck Kirk! Keep doing that… please, do that again.”
I blurted, my tone quivering in unison with my trembling knees. Kirk chuckled, harshly snapping his fingers upwards once more. I moaned, my jaw falling open as a dozen new sensations coursed through me.
“Like that?”
Kirk inquired devilishly. I nodded against the crook of his neck.
“Yes… yes just like that.”
Kirk placed a second kiss on my temple, removing his long digits from my soaking wet cunt. I groaned at the sudden loss of contact, my pussy clenching desperately around nothing.
“Can I taste you?”
Kirk inquired, breaking free from my firm grip on his shoulders. I loosened my grasp on his wrist, noticing the crescent moon shaped indents I'd left in the wake of my nails.
“Yes. Please do.”
He clambered to the floor, watching me intently through his lashes as he kneeled in front of my parted legs. Kirk slowly ran his open palms up the tops of my thighs, stopping once he reached the waistband of my panties. I shifted my hips forward until I was just barely sitting on the edge of the couch in order to push Kirk’s gorgeous face closer to my core.
Kirk hooked a finger in the waistband of my panties, slowly pulling them down my legs and dropping them nonchalantly to the floor. He threw my knees over his shoulders and began to place soft kisses along the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, his face pushing my skirt upwards until the fabric pooled around my hips. I leaned back on my hands, watching Kirk intently as he moved with purpose. He would bring his mouth inches away from my desperate cunt before trailing his lips away, leaving me high and dry.
“Please Kirk.”
I begged, tangling a hand in his curly hair, lightly tugging him towards my center.
“I can’t take it anymore.”
Kirk smirked against my inner thigh.
“Alright baby, if that’s what you want.”
He buried his face between my legs, lapping at my swollen clit and sending me into an instant state of nirvana. I threw my head backwards, exposing my neck for Kirk’s gaze while involuntarily crushing his head between my thighs.
My breath hitched in my throat as Kirk gave a particularly intense flick to my clit.
“Oh God…”
I moaned, my lower abdomen pinching as my pussy grew wetter from Kirk’s deliciously warm mouth.
“You taste so fucking good baby. Are you gonna cum on my face?”
Kirk murmured against my core. I ran my tongue along my bottom lip, ripping a few stray strands of hair from Kirk’s scalp while grinding my face against his mouth.
“Yeah…”
The pressure in my stomach gradually built until I could feel my body on the brink of a mind boggling orgasm. The fear of Kirk halting his movements still played in the back of my mind. I would most likely cry if I was left starving after being so close to a release.
“Please don’t stop Kirk. I’m gonna cum.”
I knit my brow as Kirk’s movements became eager, his tongue firmly flicking my swollen clit.
“I’m not stopping, baby.”
And with Kirk’s raspy tone playing inside my brain, I came all over his pretty mouth. My facial muscles clenched in unison with my cunt, chest heaving sharply with every labored breath. I moaned loudly while Kirk hurriedly worked to bring me down from my extremely intense orgasm.
Kirk rose from his kneeling position, flopping onto the couch next to me once he was satisfied with his work. I leaned back against the couch, cocking my head to the side to gaze longingly into Kirk's lust-filled pupils.
He cupped my face with his hand, throwing his other arm behind me along the back of the couch. I brought my lips against his plush mouth, tasting my juices as Kirk quickly slipped his tongue between my teeth. He utilized his body weight to push me until my back collided with the soft couch cushions.
We made out slowly on the couch, Kirk’s warm body hovering over my tender breasts. My hands grasped the collar of his black tank top, yanking the thin fabric above his head and tossing it to the floor haphazardly.
Kirk’s bare chest was now on display for my hands to caress freely. I trailed my open palms against the delicate skin of his chest, his muscles rippling under my hot touch. I raked my nails through his thick happy trail, my fingertips finding his thin black belt.
“Please give it to me Kirk.”
I said while attempting to undo his silver buckle with trembling hands. Kirk allowed me to undo his belt, smiling against my lips as I pulled the leather through his jean loops with a satisfying whoosh.
“Will you take off your shirt for me?”
Kirk whispered sensually against my wet mouth. I pulled away, grasping the hem of my shirt and tugging it over my head without embarrassment. Kirk scoffed as he took in the sight of my bare chest on display for his wandering eyes.
“That baggy shirt did not do your body justice.”
He murmured under his breath before catching my mouth in a heated kiss. My cheeks flushed hot as Kirk ground his clothed bulge against my bare cunt. I groaned, his mouth swallowing my noises as the hardness of his cock was brought to my attention.
“You still want me to fuck you baby?”
Kirk asked, his lips finding my ear to gently nibble on my earlobe. My eyes fluttered shut as I relished in the heat of the moment.
“Yes, just… be gentle please.”
Kirk reached between our bodies to undo his jeans, pushing them down just enough to allow his rock hard cock to spring free from its confines. My eyes couldn’t help but look down, only to be taken aback by the sheer size of his thick length.
“Kirk…”
My voice trailed off as I took in his swollen pink tip that was glistening with precum.
“Yes baby?”
“I don’t think it’ll fit.”
Kirk chuckled as he grasped his veiny cock with one hand, gently running it through my wet folds. I threw my head back, brow knitting as his swollen tip brushed against my clit.
“It’ll fit baby, just relax for me.”
Kirk buried his face in the crook of my neck, gently rocking his hips forward to bury his thick cock halfway inside my eager cunt. My muscles tensed due to a jolt of pain erupting from my pussy.
“Kirk. I don’t know if-“
I cried.
“You’re okay baby.”
His hot breath tickled the thin skin on my neck.
“Let me start fucking you and then decide if you really want me to stop.”
He buried the rest of his rock hard cock inside of me. I dug my teeth into my lower lip to mask my noises of discomfort. Kirk began rocking his pelvis back and forth, spreading my juices along his length.
Slowly, the tension inside of me began to fade away as the pain inside of me slowly morphed into heated pleasure within my lower abdomen.
“Does that feel good baby?”
Kirk inquired, his tone completly fucked out as he groaned next to my ear.
“Yeah. Yeah it feels really fucking good Kirk.”
I gulped.
“You’re so fucking big.”
The intense stretch of my walls made me feel as if at any moment my body could rip in two.
“Shit Y/N, If you keep talking like that I may forget to be gentle.”
The next words became trapped in my throat and erupted from my mouth as a strangled cry.
“Please go faster Kirk.”
Kirk began to pull his cock from my cunt before gently snapping his hips forward to bury himself inside me once more. The intensity of his thrusts gradually became quicker, more intense. My body rocked with every jerk of his pelvis, the tip of his cock eventually finding my g spot.
I moaned loudly, my pussy clenching around his length.
“Does that feel good baby?”
The intensity of his thrusts had increased tenfold.
And it felt absolutely amazing.
“Yeah, it feels really good. Keep going… please.”
His tip was now finding my g spot with every merciless thrust, causing me to hurtle towards my release at an insanely fast pace.
“I’m gonna cum Kirk. I can’t hold on much longer.”
“That’s okay baby.”
Kirk mumbled as his cock twitched within me.
“You feel so fucking good… I’m not gonna hold on much longer either.”
My stomach was tight with anticipation as my orgasm began seeping into the corners of my brain.
“Cum for my baby girl.”
Kirk’s curls brushed against my cheek, the new sensation igniting a fire that traveled directly to my core. I came loudly around his cock, my back aching against his chest, both of us a moaning mess as we reached our releases in perfect unison.
He gave a few gentle thrusts to my cunt to help both of us come down from an intense state of post orgasmic euphoria. Kirk pulled back, his cheeks flushed bright red, a thin layer of sweat glistening on his tanned skin.
“Was that okay? Did it feel good?”
Damn. He sure loved to hear how good he could make me feel.
No problem, I'd keep telling him how great he was no matter how often he asked.
I cupped his face with a gentle hand, tenderly pressing my lips to his for a brief moment.
“It felt great.”
Kirk swallowed audibly, gawking at my fucked out expression.
“God I fucking love you.”
I cocked my brow, slightly taken aback.
Did I hear him correctly?
He loved me?
Seriously?
“You love me?”
I asked, a satisfied smile playing on the corners of my mouth.
“Head over fucking heels baby.”
Kirk leaned in, brushing his damp lips against my jugular.
“I just wanna make you feel good for the rest of my life… if you’ll have me.”
I relaxed my body against the couch cushions, never having felt more satisfied in my entire life. Kirk’s cock made me feel deliciously full despite a lack of movement.
“I’ll have you.”
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sundaynie · 6 months
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𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐡
pairing | st. shelter!lars x mc
genre | fluff
summary | mc mulls over her first day at harp island
author’s note | it’s been a week since i started playing lovebrush chronicles and i am obsessed y’all. here’s a short, fluffy drabble dedicated lars rorschach bc that man owns me now !! (work cross-posted from my ao3 account)
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His eyes remind you of the Mediterranean Sea.
A delicate blend of pale blue and subtle green hues. It's a little warmer in tone, fittingly enough. His oddly benevolent gaze resembles pools of aqua, with streaks of turquoise in his irises emulating the soft ebbs and flows of water.
I could drown in them, you think.
Waves of azure blue intermingling with seafoam green to create the most stunning shade of aquamarine.
I would like to, you muse.
A yawn escapes your lips as you prepare for bed. It’s well into nighttime now, just approaching 11pm. You’ve changed into your pyjamas after finishing your usual evening routine— a scorching hot, full-body shower and your ever-so-elaborate skincare routine.
Eyes shifting to your suitcase by the door, you’re glad you didn’t need to unpack your belongings. Your stay at this dorm is a provisional one since you’ll be moving out in the morning and into the off-campus housing that your guardian, Cael, had arranged for you.
Tucked snugly into bed, the journey from your hometown to the small island occupies your thoughts. It had been an exhaustingly arduous overnight trip and with your seasickness rendering you bedridden for most of the time you were aboard the cruise ship, you were thankful for your mentor to have accompanied you.
You hadn’t anticipated your arrival at Harp Island to be an overwhelming one. Your first day for orientation, sure. But stepping foot on the official campus grounds of St. Shelter Academia and meeting so many people all at once was beyond what you had prepared for.
Their faces and names are all a Gaussian blur in your head. The fatigue of travelling and having to assimilate to your surroundings so soon finally catches up to you as you sink into the bed of your temporary accommodation.
It had been a long journey but you were glad to be here, at last.
You turn over, gently resting your cheek against your palm, vivid blue-green eyes flashing in your mind.
Lars Rorschach.
You ponder the possibility of encountering him again. Given his status as one of the academy's key investors, crossing paths with him seemed highly probable. You mull over the extent of his connections within St. Shelter and wonder how far-rooted his relations are with the academy. His familiarity with Cael suggests they were well acquainted, evident in the way they spoke to each other.
It would make sense if he was a former student.
You speculate on the academic path he might have pursued at the academy, envisioning a business-related course, given his role as the CEO of Feinz Group, a thriving multi-billion dollar enterprise. You picture him as someone who was a well-known figure on campus, he is charismatic enough, after all.
Not to mention devastatingly handsome.
With his towering stature and golden hair, sharp nose and chiselled jawline.
Amidst all his striking features, it was his eyes that captivated you the most.
You find yourself wondering if they change colour, refracting and reflecting under different lighting.
Were they blue most days? Or did they lean towards green?
The memory of his eyes sparkling as he openly praised In Passing, blissfully unaware of your identity as the author of the manga, replays in your mind.
"I really like this artist. I hope to get her autograph one day."
His remark was sincere, with all the enthusiasm of an easily excitable golden retriever.
A small smile unknowingly graces your lips as you slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of aquamarine eyes.
end note | i already have like 917279645883624 lars fics + drabbles lined up so watch this space lol
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tiredgoodomensfan · 20 days
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Fuck it we ball fanfic time. Gn reader x lars pinfield WOO
Okay WOO lmk if this is shit or ooc or anything, but im pretty happy with how this went :D its a little rushed, might redo it in the future idk. Also i made Y/N bit too much like me (northern) so watch out for that american readers SORRYYY. anwyays enjoy!
I am smart.
No don't laugh, I am, genuinely I am.
Maybe not in the way that others deem important, maybe not in the traditional sense, but I am bright.
Pinfield doesn't think so, the prick.
Every day I come into work, all smiling and welcoming, and what do I get in return? A roll of the eyes if I'm lucky.
Dickhead.
But I don't let him get to me, I love my job. My boss is chill, I love hanging out with Lucky, and the Spenglers seem nice! It's a good gig, really.
I'm the "PR guy" for Ghost Corps. Every time they fuck up and destroy a building or whatever I'm the one who covers it up. I'm a real smooth talker, 'gift of the gab' my mum used to call it.
The team needs me, I know that, they know that. Im crucial to the whole operation, the sole reason why that whiny mayor dude hasnt shut them down.
I'm the one who goes to press interviews, who goes on the radio or on TV. I'm the social media manager, I make videos, and post tweets, fuck I've even started a Ghostbusters youtube account! I deserve a raise honestly. #justiceforY/NthePRguy
I get on with everyone at work except for Pinfield, and I genuinely dont know why.
I've tried getting him to feature in videos, or explain the science of stuff to me so I can actually seem like I know what I'm talking about- but he just brushes me off.
Gary tries to reassure me about this on a daily basis. "Its nothing to do with you Y/N" he smiled one day, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me away from the busy scientist. "He doesnt really talk to anyone, he gets really passionate about his work"
"I get that, but there's no need for him to be a dick to me, he's got me thinking all kinds of shit honestly!" I replied, exhasperated "I've never done nowt to him"
Suddenly, Pinfield raised his head from his work, scrunching his eyebrows together. "thats a double negative" he commented, looking at me as if I was stupid. Great, It's the most he's ever spoken to me and its a fucking insult- atleast I think it is.
"you what?" I ask, making my way over to him despite Garys protests. I fold my arms, looking as menacing as i can (which ive been told isn't very menacing at all)
"I said its a double negative, if you've never done nothing then you must've done something" before I can reply, he adds onto the end "which you haven't, by the way. I dont know why you think that. I treat you the same as anyone else"
I can't explain why his answer bothers me so much, but it does. Why does he view me in the same way he views the others? That's hardly fair. I'm always welcoming to him, I make time out of my day to include him in things. I hate to admit it, but I genuinely admire him aswell. His love for all things paranormal, the way he gets so excited and proud when he gets to explain the science of ghost-catching to someone. It's oddly endearing.
I tell him as much (excpet for the stuff about him being endearing, he doenst need his ego inflated any more than it already is)
He looks confused, I've never seen him look like that- its weird. Arrogant? sure. Annoyed? when is he not bffr. Happy? Once or twice. But confused? Weird. This is the guy with all the answers, the smart one.
He thinks for a moment, before seemingly making a desision. He stands up with a small huff of exhasperation, and walks off.
As he goes past me, he grabs my arm, more gently than I thought he was capable of. Okay, i guess im coming too. Fun, roadtrip time.
He takes me out of the lab and down the corridor, into a relatively well lit small room.
"Well this is-" before i can speak properly, he cuts me off. Told you he was a prick.
"I dont understand you Y/N" he blurts out, looking at me, as if I'm some sort of specimin hes studying in the lab.
"Well good." I joke. I dont like the serious tone he's taking. Dont like how aware I am of his gaze. HATE the fact I can feel my cheeks burning. Gross. Pinfield is a dick, we've established this. Why the fuck am I BLUSHING because he's LOOKING at me? Bit embarassing, pull it together Y/LN.
He doenst like this though. He shakes his head, pacing around.
"No Y/N you dont get it. I understand everyone, sort of anyways. I've observed them, I can predict their reactions to things. I know what they're all like- but you're... I just dont understand! You're so happy and nice all the time, but you also get angry at stupid stuff, but never really properly angry? I cant make sense of it, genuinely. You've not done anything wrong, you can't do anything wrong. Thats frustrating too. It's like you're this perfect, beautiful person, and I've been trying to see flaws but I cant-" He rambles, speaking like hes just letting out one stream of constant thoughts. He seems stressed, poor guy.
I interupt him, grabbing his arm. "Hey, c'mon Pinfi- I- Lars. C'mon Lars. I'm not worth the stress mate" I try and reassure him, but that just agitates him more.
"See! That's just it! I've been horrible to you, I admit it. But you've kept trying with me! When I hurt my hand you were the one who bandaged it and put it in a sling"
(i had found him almost blacked out from the pain on the lab floor, even the memory of it sent a shiver down my spine)
"you were the only one that looked for me after we all nearly died fighting Garraka"
("Pinfield? Pinfield!? Oh my god, there you are! Thank fuck you're alright!" Okay maybe this tiny non-crush had been going on longer than i thought... christ)
"I dont like the thought of you hurt..." i muttered, embarrased. this definitely wasnt how i was expecting this conversation to go, fuck my life I was crushing on a nerdy scientist who defintely didn't like me back.
He stopped his pacing and walked over to me until the gap between us was non existant. He slowly, hesitantly, lifted his hand until he cupped my cheek.
"I don't like the thought of you upset because of me" he muttered, his voice low.
My heart completely stopped, my breath caught in my throat, was this happening? how was this happening? i swear this guy was like my mortal enemy not even 5 minutes ago. so many revelations were bieng made today...
I decided to be bold, why not? fuck it, i've got nothing to loose at this point.
I leaned in so our noses just grazed eachother, looking at him, really genuinely looking at him. his soft blue eyes that seemed to peer into my soul. Not pierce through it, like some weird blue eyed fuckers i knew, but looked. gently, tenderly, as if he was looking at everything i ever had been, or would be. like i was something beautiful, something to be treaured.
It made me want to sob at the thought. god, how disgustingly sweet.
"make up for it then" i whispered, the tension so thick i could cut it with a knife.
I'd planned on being the one to make the forst move, but apparently, that was all that Lars needed.
He kissed me. His soft lips pressed against mine, sotfly, tenderly, tentatively.
I could feel the anxiety radiating off of him, so i quickly reciprocated. More eagerly than i owuldve liked- but oh well.
I could feel his hand resting on my waist, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. It all felt so tender, so raw, not at all how i thought it would be.
I felt like a teenager again, and couldnt resist letting out a small giggle, making Lars pull away. He looked confused again, making me laugh once again.
"What?" he aksed, a sort of amused smile on his face.
"Nothing- sorry. Nothing at all. Just thinking of how fuming mums gonna be when i tell her ive got a posho for a boyfriend"
"I am NOT posh!"
"you are a littleee"
"I AM NO- wait- boyfriend?"
"oh shit didnt mean to say that bi-"
he cut me off with another kiss, this one much more confident.
It felt like a million fireworks were going off in my head, oh I could definetly get used to this feeling. This war, sweet, happy feeling. My senses were flooded with everything Lars. His taste, his smell, his touch.
I felt like I was learning to live again.
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jessybarnes · 8 months
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Al Min Kærlighed
Fandom - Metallica
Chapter Two - Until It Sleeps
Pairing - Single!Lars x Reader
Other Characters - James Hetfield, Kirk Hammett, and Robert Trujillo
Tags - Angst, fluff, hospitals, stitches, injury, mentions of past physical abuse, explicit language, and I think that's it.
Word Count - 1.2k
Unbeta’d - Just me and Grammarly
Fic Aesthetic - Yours Truly
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When you came to you became aware of a number of things. You heard the beeping of machines and the murmuring of voices somewhere in the distance. You smelled disinfectant, and you knew you were probably in a hospital. Which meant bills... Oh man, you couldn't afford this.
Something else that caught your attention was the feel of someone else's hand in yours. You feared it was Cole and was about to jerk your hand back while trying your best to scream for a nurse, but then you remembered. Last night's events came flooding back into your mind. Flash after flash of what happened. Escaping Cole, the adrenaline of driving to find help, the music, the smell of sweat, and.... eyes. Those piercing frightful green eyes.
Slowly you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light and to clear your blurry vision. You noticed two men in your room. They looked familiar, but you couldn't quite place them.
The taller one was asleep on the couch in the room. He looked pretty uncomfortable all folded up wearing his black jeans that were painted on... you were sure of that. He had a white tank top with a black cut-off leather vest with numerous patches. His blonde hair was tousled messily into a mini mohawk.
The shorter one was grasping your uninjured left hand with his other one supporting his head like a pillow. He had looser-fitting jeans on with a form-fitting black t-shirt that had some writing on it. He didn't look any more comfortable than the other man.
Why were they so familiar? You racked your brain trying to place them as you felt the shorter one shift his movement in the chair. Noticing you were awake he yelled over his shoulder to wake the taller man.
“James! Hey, James, she's awake! Get a nurse.”
James startled awake and sat up to rub his eyes with the heel of his hands.
“Shit man, you scared me. I'll go grab a nurse and get us some coffee. You want your usual Uli?”
“Yeah, that sounds great thanks Het.”
The man called James left the room then and disappeared down the hall. You were still digging in your mind to place them when the other one spoke to you while rubbing light circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Hey there, you gave us quite a scare back at the concert. We almost lost you.”
You smiled and licked your lips so you could try and speak, but he placed his index finger over your lips to stop you.
“Shhh it's okay, don't try to talk. Don't wanna split your stitches open. Just relax and we can talk about what happened later. Well, we will talk, you, on the other hand, should probably refrain from that for the time being. I have a pad of paper and a pen. Can you squeeze my hand if you are able to write?"
You felt a jolt of electricity go through you at his touch. You shivered as you gave his hand a firm squeeze and he smiled. He had a genuine smile with trusting green eyes.
“You cold? Here let me get you another blanket.”
He must have noticed your shiver. He returned a moment later and tucked a blanket around you.
“There that should do it. Ah Hell, where are my manners? I didn't even introduce myself! Well, wait, you probably already know who we are huh?”
He looked at you expectantly, and you tried your best to shake your head no while giving a sheepish look. He grasped your hand again and chuckled a little at your embarrassment.
“It's okay, you've been through a lot. No need to be embarrassed. My name is Lars, Lars Ulrich, and the giant that is getting a nurse for you and coffee for me is James Hetfield. We play in a band called Metallica.”
You were sure you had died and this was some sort of Heaven. A joke maybe? You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them again trying to wake up, but nothing was changing. This was real. The founders of the greatest heavy metal band in existence had come to your rescue. You made eye contact with Lars then, and you were sure your eyes were as big as saucers.
He beamed at you and smoothed his thumb over your hand again. James returned then with a nurse and some coffee. Oooo that smelled delicious. Your mouth watered as the smell wafted in your direction. The nurse was at your side and was checking your IV line and your bandages.
“Hi there, my name is Amanda, and I'll be your nurse. Let me just have a look at your neck there... everything looks great. Doctor Anderson will be in to see you soon. In the meantime are you in any pain?”
You winced hoping that was an indication that you had some, and you noticed James looking at you with sad eyes. You focused on the wallpaper behind him so your emotions didn't get the best of you.
“I'm gonna get you something for the pain honey. I'll be back as quick as I can.”
With that Amanda left the room and you were now alone again with James and Lars. Metallica. You couldn't wrap your head around any of this. It sounded insane.
James was at your side then. He smoothed the hair out of your face and knelt down so you didn't have to crane your neck to look at him.
“We're glad you're okay. Gave us quite the scare back there. Do you remember what happened?”
You couldn't hold your tears in anymore. Not with them looking at you like this. You felt like a burden to them, but at the same time, you were so glad they were there. You felt safe for once. Something you haven't felt in a very long time.
“Ah, honey don't cry! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried. Do you want us to go?”
You gripped onto Lars' hand like a vice and looked at James with pleading terrified eyes. Silently begging them not to leave you.
“Jesus James, this girl has a grip on her! I'm gonna take that as a no. Call Kirk and Rob, and tell them we are gonna postpone the show tonight. We can't just leave her. We gotta know what happened.”
Lars looked at you then and brought his free hand up to your face. Your first instinct was to recoil, but you held that back letting him lightly caress your cheek.
“You should get some rest. I promise we won't leave. Well, one of us might have to go to the studio, but I promise at least one of us will be here when you wake up.”
You didn't want to sleep, but you were overcome with exhaustion. Leaning into his touch, you let your eyes droop and soon the beeping of the machines and the gentle touch of Lars' fingers lulled you to sleep.
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Screaming crying throwing up screaming crying throwing up SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
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algea · 4 days
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just a few headcannons I have for Lars
(btw these are mine, they may not be yours)
Lars is the type of guy who gets super mega irritated if you ask too many questions about anyone besides him. Oh, you're asking him about his work? It's fine until you bug him with questions about other people and their work
Despite what you may believe, Lars is also a very jealous guy. One word about another guy and he's already interrogating you like you just murdered someone
Dude has absolutely no chill when it comes to his work. Someone starts talking shit about what he does and it's so over for them.
Even though he may not show it, Lars really enjoys when you touch him. If you're sitting beside him at the lab and place a hand on his shoulder, he's definitely leaning into you and relishing your touch (could also definitely be taken into other context as well).
Lars can absolutely, in no way shape or form, cook to save his life. He heavily relies on whatever he's got in his pantry or you to make him something. He also doesn't really have time for breakfast, so you best believe he's a snacker.
Lars talks to his mom on the phone everyday after he gets home from work. He is, without a doubt, a momma raised boy and you love it.
Lars hates coffee. Plain and simple. He will literally drink anything other than coffee. In fact, his favored drink isn't tea, it's water. He has to maintain his perfect hair somehow.
He may be a cocky son of a bitch, but he will definitely stand up for you if someone belittles you. Lars likes to tease you by saying rude things, but you know that he's just playing and that's how he flirts. When other people do it, he's very quick to jump on their ass about it. Absolutely no tolerance for someone making fun of you.
Even though Lars may not be social, he loves to converse about science and whatnot. He could literally get stuck in a conversation for hours about science. You find it so cute that whenever someone brings up something he likes to talk about, his pupils widen and a grin breaks out on his face.
Lars really loves to listen to music. He listens to it in the lab, at home, anywhere he can really. He's more into indie and older music, like Bees Gees, Sports Team, or Turning Jane.
Lars likes stupid romcom movies. It's a bit cliche, but he really loves a good romcom movie. He'd sit there for hours and watch them if you let him. He hates to admit it, but he loves Clueless and Legally Blonde.
He loves it when you kiss him. Whenever you kiss him, he always has a stupid little love drunk smile after. He's so head over heels for you and it's so cute.
Surprisingly, he's not super neat. Of course, he's not super messy either. Normally, he has a little clutter on his desk and he hates when someone touches something. If someone starts to clean up his desk a little, he's super quick to tell them off about it.
Lars loves when he's able to relax with you. On the days that neither of you are at the lab all night, he loves to curl up with you on the bed and talk about something. Sometimes you both read instead of talking. Just kinda a way to decompress after a long few days of work.
Even though he hunts ghosts, Lars is scared super easily. You could literally be standing behind a door and when he opens it he jumps and lets out a string of curses. This, of course, comes with some of the best pranks you've ever pulled on him. However, don't think that he won't do something back. He despises horror movies and makes you hold his hand whenever you watch one.
Lars puts a lot of time into his hair and skin. We all know about the Pukey incident (which you did not let him live down), so you definitely know that he's extra careful with his skincare and haircare from now on (his hair turned green for a few days).
Despite not knowing how to cook, Lars is such a foodie. If he has the chance to try something new, you best believe he's going to try it. Lars also loves fruity drinks, non-alcoholic and alcoholic (just like James).
I hope you guys liked some of these headcannons as much as I do because they're so fun to write.
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