Lars And Cliff

Lars and Cliff ♡

"He was really cool. It was, obviously other than losing a brother- I would've been interested to see what else he could've contributed, because it felt like we were just getting started. But I'm so glad that I got a chance to play with him for a couple, three years. And got a chance to know him, and got a chance to drink with him, and all the shenanigans that probably shouldn't be printed in a nice, family publication like Revolver. But it definitely was a pretty nutty time, and at the time we certainly embraced what life was offering us."

some kind of monster ♡

happy easter from james, rob and lars ♡

Kirk and Cliff ♡

"We were in each other’s back pockets," Hammett recalls fondly in Classic Rock. "We were brothers for three years. Cliff loved life, and he lived it to the full," Hammett continues. "He didn’t waste any of his time. If he wasn’t playing music, he was finding other things to do that made him happy. He spent very little time complaining. When he left us, he was just as powerful as he could be as a person. He never waned."

metallica and venom ♡

(Un)Still Shots 🎞 James Hetfield (18+)

Laughter-filled vibrations reverberate through and thump against the back of your bare shoulder as James presses his elated grin into the partially disheveled hair cascading down the side of your neck, his eyebrows raised in faux surprise as he stares back at the large screen in front of the two of you. You widen your eyes and reach a hand out towards the camera, curling your fingers into a playfully threatening fist, and letting out a bout of resounding amusement as your boyfriend exhales a tickling guffaw against your slowly heating up skin.

"Won't even be able to see what's coming," James teases, his words sounding slightly muffled as his bottom lip catches ahold and sticks to the chain belonging to the necklace engraved with his initials. You tilt your head to the side and relax in his hold as he raises a hand to brush the tendrils and pieces of your mane back, your smile turning small and content as you feel them pillow against your spine and James' chin jut against your collarbone. Light, yet rough textured fingertips slowly make their way up your front and dip into the crisscrossed pattern of fabric covering and shaping your breasts, and your breath halts in your chest as his warm palm creates dormancy on your temporarily frozen sternum. "It's gotten quieter outside, less people. How about we have some fun?"

You bite back a mewl as the pad of his thumb runs itself along the expanse of your breastbone and nod, a quiet gasp barricaded behind your pinched lips as the photobooth's camera audibly shutters and takes another picture. Your heavily lidded eyes take in the look on your face, as its being reflected back to you on the touchscreen. James raises his other hand from your waist to delicately encircle it around your throat, his earlier laugh turning into a fulfilled chuckle as he watches your lips part and gape at the grounding and resolute hold. Your thighs tremble in between his as his bracket your own, the once chilled air coming from the other side of the haphazardly curtained photobooth no longer an issue or threat, as your boyfriend brings you in impossibly closer.

"Remember when we came here for the first time last summer, and we fucked around on the ferris wheel?" A petaled whimper escapes from your throat as he slides his large palm over to firmly grasp at the mound of your erect nipple and breast. You lower your head as you press yourself into the hold he has around your neck, your cheeks beginning to redden as your boyfriend lets out a condescending coo at your sudden and abrupt neediness. "Was so nervous and hesitant, until I stuck a hand underneath your skirt. Came so fast and messily, I had you lick my fingers and wrist clean," James' assured and steadfast expression and smirk is apparent in the next photo taken, nearly overtaking and shadowing the look of want on your own. "What'd we do afterwards, sweetheart? Be good and tell me."

You dazedly lick your lips and dryly swallow before answering, forcing yourself not to grind back against him, as unrelenting heat pools in your core and arousal begins to pearl and trickle at your entrance. "We ran to the bathroom, and you fucked me against the door of the closest stall," you rasp out, a slight choked breath of laughter following after from the still vivid memory. "Got caught halfway through, so we ditched the rest of the carnival and finished on the backseat of your car." James unabashedly chortles from behind you, both of you now sporting wide grins, despite the air becoming heady, and the heavy and hot bulge insistently pressing itself against the lower of your back.

"The fucking noises you made," James reminisces, guiding you back by the secure hold around your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. James maneuvers your legs wide open with his booted feet, watching hungrily as your reflected self shivers at the cold air making its way to your soaked sex. You lustfully gaze at the screen, as your boyfriend's hand slides down from your chest, and gropes and glides down to your groin and underneath your skirt. "If you can keep quiet this time, I think we'll have enough minutes left to make you cum before our meter runs out," you twist your head to the side and shove your face into his bicep as he teasingly taps against your clothed and pulsating clit, pleasured tears accumulating on your lower lashes while he flattens his palm over the entirety of your sensitized pussy. "I could always stick my fingers in your mouth, have you swallow and gag around them until you cry. Even though you're already halfway there."

You refrain from obediently opening your already salivating mouth from his words alone to make space for his fingers, and instead open it to plead. "I'll take whatever you give me, always will." You whisper, shocking yourself at the dampened sound of wanton emanating from your voice, even while it was already so quiet. You let out a muted moan once you unbury yourself from his warm side and look forward once again, the darkened irises peering back at you through the screen enough to make your slick begin to bleed through your underwear's fabric and drip down and narrowly miss your guys' sets of scuffed up and overworn boots. James' cockhead unceremoniously spurts precum against his zipper as your face comes back into view, your bitten red lips and teary eyes enough to make him nearly release, untouched, in the tight confines of his denim jeans. Your heart erratically stutters in your chest as James brings his head down to lap at your goosebump ridden flesh as a way to distract himself, your jaw slackening as his fingertips entangle themselves into the dampened fabric to tug it aside.

"Please, don't tease me." You beg, your sharp inhalation turning into a hiccupped stutter of his name once his index finger slides itself through your swollen folds, the audible sound of your arousal almost as loud as the hum coming from the bottom of the photobooth. James' mouth pops off of your clavicle, leaving red and purple hued sucked marks behind, once the desire to watch you fall apart from his touch becomes unbearable. James looks at you through the screen, enraptured. From the way your spine arches away from his front once he finally dips his ring and middle fingers into your welcoming entrance, to the way your facial expression turns pornographic once he curves them upward to purposefully rub and abuse your overly sensitive, spongelike spot. To the thick and all accommodating globs of your prerelease, that help him fasten and quicken the pace of his fingers fucking themselves into you.

"As if I'd ever tease you when you're as wet as you are for me right now, pretty girl," you hastily reach up and grab ahold of the wrist resting against your chest, the hand attached to it deliciously tightening and bringing you even monumentally closer to the edge. Your hips raise as you straighten your feet on the ground to use them as leverage to ride his fingers, the constant stimulation of your g-spot and his dirty talking and the slight air deprivation enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head, and for white streaks to color the darkened corners of what little vision you have left. "That's right doll, fucking use me. Cum all over these fingers, made to fuck in and out of you." The tightened muscles in your midsection twist and then flatten out as you reach your orgasm, your lips nearly splitting by the way your jaw widens as you needily suck in little air. James holds you upright as you quietly sob and tremble in his grasp, the hand he has wrapped around your throat, slowly disentangling itself to mold along your waist and keep you from falling down. Murmured praises are what welcome you once you come back to, your body still jolting every few seconds with oversensitivity, even after your boyfriend has already placed you back down on the wooden seat in between his legs, and your once askew, cottoned underwear are put back in place.

"You did so well for me, sweetheart, you know that?" James asks you, the side of his dimpled and handsomely acne scarred cheek raising in a soft and endeared smile as he looks down at you. You lift your right temple up from his shirt clad chest and chase after his lips, tumbling out a gasp against his lifting one's as you taste your familiar and slightly musky slick on his own. You wrap your arms around his neck and use his sturdy and broad shoulders as leverage, before swinging your shaky legs around to rest one on either side of his spread and taut legs. You lift your hips and barrel yours against his, uncaring of the painful sting it brings to your still throbbing clit. and the feeling of your ruined underwear clinging and sticking to the thick material of his jeans.

James can't do anything but pant and wildly lick into your mouth as you dry hump fuck him, his fingertips gripping the bare skin of your thighs and lifting you up as you grind up and down on his weeping and leaking, red clothed cock. The photobooth takes one last picture, and you grin into the kiss, already imagining what the photos will look like. You, nearly crying for your boyfriend to finger you, your plush lips parted open and your wet pussy soaking and making a mess of his hands, his wrist, and the floor. James' thick hands, manhandling you and keeping you in place, depriving you of air as he brings you over the edge, only in the way that he allows you to. You, nearly in a split, grinding and riding your boyfriend's clothed dick like you were choking and dying for it, as his blushing cheeks and bleary eyes stare back up at you, as he stutters out your name for a change.

"Need you to cum for me, baby," you whimper, resting your forehead against his as he lifts his hips from the wooden surface beneath you two to ground his sex as close as he can to yours, the warmth of your cum and arousal bleeding through his jeans enough to help him imagine himself being inside of you. Fucking into you nice and deep, his short nails digging into your hipbones as he chases both of your releases with reckless abandon, his mouth biting marks into your skin as close and as far as he can get. His cockhead rubbing against your cervix as you milk him dry, and as he fills you to the brim with his seed. "Cum in me, make a mess out of me. Use me, just like I used you." You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a loud gasp as your clit makes rough contact with the thickened fabric protecting his zipper in just the right way. The photobooth's lights dim and the screen compiles all of your pictures together as you orgasm for the second time, as James moans out your name and his cum mixes and connects with yours, as his hips rise with one last, aborted thrust.

Soft, exhausted pants and the sound of sweaty palms sliding against skin fill the photobooth to its precipice, before you lift your forehead from James', and you both look at each other and burst out into laughter. A clad palm envelops the nape of your neck and brings you down into a gentle and calming kiss, the duality of its nature causing you to grin into it. You lick your lips once you two part, still chasing after his taste after you already had it. James lowers his hands down to your waist, and gently places you on the seat next to him, before reaching forward to grab ahold of the printing, black and white strips of pictures. Hysterical laughter bellows out of him, and you quickly lean toward him, following suit as you take them in.

"We look like c-list porn stars." You gasp out through harsh breaths of laughter, uncaring of the rough movements of your head from James' own as you rest it against his back. Joyful tears spring to your eyes, and you shift until the photos are back in sight, your hysterical laughter tittering down to uninhibited giggles as you look at the first few of you two smiling and acting silly- to the last few, of you cumming hard against your boyfriend's fingers and palm, and you on his lap, grinding mindlessly and purposefully, as James stares up at you with wide, dilated and astonished eyes.

"Going to put these on the fridge, at the mansion." James jokes, instinctively ducking out the way as you blindly swat in his direction. Matching smiles lift both of your guys' faces, and his soon turns into a disbelieving look as you turn to look at him and ask, "Round two in the car?" James stares down at you momentarily, before shaking his head and filtering the multiple strips of photographs into a neat pile.

"If you ever have to ask me that question twice, shoot me." He says seriously, a wolfish grin taking over his features as he looks down at your incredulous expression, as you two make your way out of the photobooth and carnival, and towards the renowned and awaiting car. James lifts an arm and places it over your shivering shoulders, grinning to himself as you raise an arm in response and rest your hand on top of his. The partially quiet walk is soon interrupted by kids squealing in joy and families hastily making their ways to their own cars as the sun begins to set, yet you two couldn't feel any more carefree and content as the sounds pile on.

You huff out an amused breath as you're gently pushed back against the driver's side of his car and guided into a heated kiss, your eyes tiredly opening back up slowly once James pulls away. Before you can speak up and ask him if he's ready for another round, he beats you to it, only to ask you something that brings you both into another round of rowdy laughter, uncaring of the heads that turn to gawk and stare.

"Same time, next year, carousel?" "Yeah, why the hell not."