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| You Gotta Feel Something; Lars/OFC. 1982-1984 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: September 26, 2011, 8:46 pm (2,922 Views) | |
| disposable_hero | September 26, 2011, 8:46 pm Post #1 |
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Frantic
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I've been working on this for a few days, so tell me if you like it or not. - - - - I'd been in California for three months and I concluded that it was boring. Very. Fucking. Boring. Nothing but pretty water and palm trees. At least, that's what Newport Beach was like. The residents called the place a 'city', but if this was a fucking city then I was Santa Claus. Their movie theater only played two movies at a time and they didn't have any places to hang out. It was a tourist trap. At any given time, you could see overweight men and women with fanny packs strapped around their bulbous stomachs attempting to corral their equally bulbous children into the nearest seafood joint. It made me sick. My mom, a new divorcée (the fifth time as such), dragged me to California with her so we could have a 'fresh start'. Which for her meant a new husband. A new husband to act like a father to me, attempting to buy my love with clothes and other shit I didn't need. Or a new husband to attempt to sexually assault me, but I'd handled my share of creeps over the years, so it was nothing new. Regardless, it was an irritating inconvenience. We were in Portland last. It was ten times better than this shithole. We'd lived in the middle of the city and there was always something to do. Clubs to dance at, parties to drink at, guys to flirt with. I loved being entertained, always having something to do. But here I did practically nothing. I lounged on the deck of our condo, sunbathing and smoking cigarettes. I read, too, but I didn't have a vast collection of books, so I ran out of things to read quickly. Carting loads of books around the country would be, like my mother's marriages, a hassle. Everything was a fucking hassle. "You're so lazy, Zelda," my mother chastised from the kitchen table, smoking a Virginia Slim. It was 10 AM and I'd just woken up and padded into the kitchen in a pair of shorts and a too-big Saxon shirt. "Why don't you go to school or something?" "Well, Irene, I earned my GED when I was fifteen. That was about three years ago." I rolled my eyes at my mother's forgetfulness, hopping onto the counter and fanning myself with some environmental hippie bullshit magazine. My mother was in some sort of environmentally friendly phase, abandoning the air conditioner and normal food for open windows and tofu. She was looking to rope some hippie who owned a produce store in town. Pathetic. I would never change myself or my lifestyle for a guy, but it seemed my mom lived to do that. "I'm your mother, Zelda. Don't call me by my first name." She blew some smoke in my direction, a frown fixed on her face. "Get a job. Do something with yourself. I'm sick of coming home from work to see you out on that goddamn deck, smoking yourself silly." "You call conning young mothers and old women a job? You work at a fucking makeup counter, Irene. You sell lies," I said, my voice dripping with disdain. My mom rolled her dull brown eyes. "Your attitude is going to get you nowhere, Zelda. What man is going to want a smart ass for a wife?" "None, I hope. I'm never getting married from the shit I've seen you do." I shook my head, laughing at my mother's naivety. She huffed loudly and pushed back from the kitchen table. "I'm leaving for work, I don't want to come home to see you on that deck. If I do, you're done. No money for a month." She stalked off, grabbing her bag from the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. "The trust fund grandpop opened for me is mine in a month! I'll be eighteen!" I called after her, smiling deviously. The door slammed and I didn't even flinch. I lived to terrorize my mother. So, she didn't want to see me on the deck when she got home, fine. I would go on the lawn shared by the three other families in the condominium complex. Not that I knew those families. I did know that my neighbor, an older foreign dude with a beard, played tennis and was a musician. He was the only person in his family to utilize his deck, so we got to know each other. Some what. I still didn't know his name, though. Shrugging, I left the kitchen and headed through the condo to my room. It was plain and white, my room, and, if not for the smell of incense and the rumpled bed, you would think no one inhabited it. Since we moved around so much, I learned not to make a home for myself, so I didn't bother decorating bedrooms. I blinked at my bare walls, lit a stick of vanilla incense, and rid myself of my pajamas. I romped around my room for a few seconds before retrieving a black string bikini from my dresser. I slipped into it, tied what needed to be tied, and grabbed a towel, my cigarettes, and my cassette player before leaving my room. I also made sure to grab my sunglasses on the way out. Outside, I was greeted a soft breeze. A California native would describe this perfect, 70 degree weather as 'chilly' or something like that, but I thought it was gorgeous out. California's winters had nothing on those of Oregon or Illinois. This was hot to me. It was December and I was still tanning. It was great. Smiling, I rolled out my towel and got comfortable, then popped Diamonds Head's Lightning to the Nations into my boombox. I lit a cigarette and closed my eyes, ready to take on my day of doing nothing. - - - - A few hours passed, but the sun was still high in the sky. So why wasn't I getting any? Why was it shady? I popped my eyes open and lifted my sunglasses. Two bodies were hovering over me, eyeing me curiously. The tape had rewound itself a few minutes earlier and 'Sucking My Love' was playing. I did my best to stifle my laughter. "Uh, can I help you?" I offered, propping myself up on my elbows. The bodies bodies, I saw now, were two young guys. The taller of the two had a cocky smirk on his face and shoulder length, auburn hair, while the shorter one was smiling smoothly and had dark, though equally long, hair. "Who are you?" The gingery one asked, pushing a hand through his hair. "I'm Zelda. Who're you?" "Zelda?" The brunette cocked an eyebrow, snorting. I glowered at him, but he flicked his hair nonchalantly as if he had done nothing wrong. "Well, I'm Lars. This is my buddy, Dave." "Okay, Lars. Okay, Dave. Why the fuck are you standing in front of my sunlight? I'm tanning." I lit a Camel Light and eyed them furiously. They were still grinning. Dave crouched down, his elbows resting on his knees. "It's December, Zelda." "It's seventy degrees out, Dave." I cocked my head to the side, my cigarette dangling from my lips, and gave him a sarcastic smile. "Do you live here?" Lars questioned as Dave rose from the ground. I was about to answer when Dave announced that he had to get home. I watched as he strode away, heading for the beat up Mazda that was parked in my neighbor’s driveway. He sped off, beeping obnoxiously in acknowledgment as he went. "Anyway, I do live here. Do you?" I watched him, my face softening now that the arrogant dick was gone. I caught him eyeing my cigarette and I held my pack up to him, shaking it. He grinned and settled on the grass, slipping a cigarette from the pack. He dug a lighter out of his back pocket and lit it. "Mhm, sort of. Right there," he said, pointing to my neighbor's condo. I sat up, blinking. He took a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke away when he exhaled. "You're my neighbor. Your dad is the funny dude with the beard and the accent, right?" Lars lifted an eyebrow, but nodded. I frowned, realizing something. "And you're the loud one. In the fucking garage all the time. You play drums?" "Yep." He was very passive about his noisiness. I was pretty sure he had the room next to mine, too. He wasn't there often, but when he was, he blasted his music and banged around. "And you're lucky I like half the shit you listen to. I can hear your music through the walls." "Like what?" "Diamond Head, obviously." I rolled my eyes. "Maiden, Zeppelin, Motörhead, Budgie, Saxon, AC --" "Did you say Budgie?" Lars straightened up and ashed his cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe before tossing it onto the pavement. Classy. "Yeah, why? Am I not allowed to?" "No, no. You just don't strike me as the kinda person who would listen to uh...good music." He shrugged, smiling an almost apologetic smile. "What you mean to say is that girls have a shit taste in music, right?" My cigarette had burned to the filter, so I flicked it to the sidewalk. I rose from my towel, stretching my arms over my head and yawning. I could feel Lars' eyes on me, giving me a once over, but I decided not to comment on it. I liked the attention. "Not exactly what I meant, but if you wanna take it that way, sure," he said, shrugging again. I looked down at him and lifted an eyebrow, then he got up off of the ground, too. "Well, Lars, it was nice to meet you. I gotta go look like I've been doing something productive all day so my mother doesn't freak out, so I'll see you later." I gathered my things and headed for my condo, but Lars followed. I turned, my hand clutching my doorknob. "Come over to my place if you ever wanna listen to music, yeah? It's my mom's birthday today, so I'm obligated to, you know, stay home. Stop by later if you wanna do...ah, something productive." The brunette smirked, then walked off with his hands in his pockets as he whistled 'Am I Evil?' to himself. I stood there, hand on my doorknob, and watched him walk to his condo. When he arrived at the door, he caught me looking at him and he grinned, then disappeared into the bright living room. I entered my own condo, smiling, deciding that California wasn't all that bad. |
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| ElisabethOrion | September 27, 2011, 12:24 am Post #2 |
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I'm creatively constipated.
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You better continue this. I fucking love it.
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| Oh Hell | September 27, 2011, 12:36 am Post #3 |
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Outlaw Torn
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Heee Lars and his buddy Dave giving the new girl a hard time! Love it so far
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| disposable_hero | September 27, 2011, 1:14 am Post #4 |
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Frantic
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Thank you, ladies. I'm glad you like it. And you'll have to excuse Zelda. She's a huge bitch, but you'll grow to love her. I promise. - - - - Irene returned from work an hour or so later, whining about how hard her day was. Oh, right, I forgot how strenuous selling makeup was. She dressed in a frenzy, claiming she was going on a date. And then she left without a goodbye, leaving me hungry and bored. I took advantage of the free shower, using up all the hot water. When I finished showering for nearly two hours, I stepped out of the bathroom in my robe, my wet hair dripping down the back. I padded onto the deck, shivering in the cold that came with the darkness. It’d dropped about fifteen degrees. I took it like a man though, smoking my cigarette quickly before hurrying back inside. I was bored again, so I decided I would take my neighbor up on his offer. After towel drying my hair, I slipped into a pair of tight gray jeans, a tank top, and a black hooded sweatshirt. Right before I left my room, music sounded from Lars' room. It was something I didn't recognize, but I pressed my ear to the wall anyway. The first song ended and as it segued into the next song, I pounded my fist on the wall. A few seconds later, Lars pounded back. I smiled, then left my condo. Just as I was locking my door, Lars popped his head out of his door. He leaned out, smiling. "Where're you going?" "To some asshole's house. He apparently has a good taste in music and he likes to block my sun." Lars laughed softly, then opened his door to me. "Come in." I walked into his home, immediately taken aback at how lived in it was. The smell of recently cooked food wafted through the living room and I almost drooled, remembering I hadn't eaten at all today. Lars stood there watching me, letting me take in his house. Paintings and family photos hung on the walls and everything looked comfortable and taken care of. It was the total opposite of any house I had ever lived in, where it reeked of cigarettes, everything was brand new, and there were no photos or decorations, like no one lived there. I was jealous of Lars for this. "Are we just gonna stand in my living room all night or..." Lars was staring at me, his head cocked to the side. I blinked, coming out of my trance of jealousy. "Oh, sorry. Lead me someplace, then." Lars smiled lazily and walked toward what I assumed was his bedroom. I followed suit, taking in more of his house as I went. When we stepped into his room, he closed the door behind him. His walls were papered with pictures ripped from music magazines and the like. On the wall opposite to the door, there was a huge poster of Philthy Animal, the drummer from Motörhead. On the small nightstand beside his bed there was a water bong. It was packed and ready to be smoked, as if for my impending arrival. "Your parents let you smoke?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow as I perched myself on the lip of his bed. "I'm eighteen and I'm rarely here, but even when I was younger they didn't care. They're laid back." He shrugged in that nonchalant manner of his and retrieved the bong, sitting down next to me. "Do you smoke?" He held the bong out to me, grinning, baiting me. I took it from him with a smile. I saw a lighter on his nightstand so I grabbed it, placed my mouth over the mouthpiece, and went to town. I took two big hits before passing it over to Lars, letting the marijuana smoke cloud out of my mouth. As Lars smoked, I studied his room. There wasn't much to see, so I scooted back onto the bed, my back against the wall. A pile of porn magazines on the nightstand that I'd missed before caught my eye and I laughed, picking one off of the top. It was all in some language I didn't recognize, but I flipped through it anyway, laughing softly at the outrageous pictures. "Dude, what the fuck is this?" I held up a page to Lars, where a girl was doing something entirely inappropriate with an empty bottle. Lars turned, his mouth still over the bong. He grinned, then swiped the magazine out of my hand. He tossed it on the floor before hitting the bong and handing it over to me. As I got lost in my drug-induced mind, Lars put on some music. Budgie. I approved, obviously. "Where'd you get a name like Zelda?" Lars settled onto the bed again and I placed his bong on the nightstand, rubbing my eyes. "My grandma named me. She was a huge Zelda Fitzgerald enthusiast and she got to name me. Better than Stella, what my mom wanted to call me." I rolled my eyes, laughing. "And you, where'd you get an accent like that?" "Denmark. I was born there. I came here when I was younger to play tennis." He tilted his head back, air drumming along with 'Breadfan'. "You...came here? To play tennis?" I was perplexed. Why would you leave Europe for America? This place sucked. "Not so much anymore. I'm in a band." He didn't stop air drumming as he spoke. "A band? What band?" "Metallica. With that guy Dave that was here, and two other guys, James and Cliff." My legs were bunched under my legs, so I got on my knees and faced Lars, grinning stupidly. "Metallica. Like, No Life 'Till Leather Metallica?" Lars stopped air drumming and turned to me, dumbstruck. "You have our demo?" "Fuck, yes, I do. You guys rule. I got it from some weirdo at a record store in LA in October." I laughed. "This is unbelievable. I listen to that thing at least four times a day. My favorite track's 'Metal Militia'." Lars ran a hand through his hair, his eyes hazy. "How do you exist?" "What the fuck are you talking about?" I giggled, reaching for the bong again. "How high are you?" "I'm not. Not really. Like, you're so weird. You shouldn't be real." He laughed, shaking his head at himself, perhaps. "You're hot and you have a great taste in music. And you like my band. And you're hot." "Are those the only two things you judge girls on? Their hotness and their taste in music?" I hit the bong again, inhaling deeply. I came back up, exhaling the smoke quickly, coughing and laughing as it came up. "Those are the only important things, Zelda." He leaned towards me, taking the bong from my hands and placing it on the floor. "And you totally excel in both categories. Obviously, we should date. Or fuck. Or make out. Or something." "Yeah, wow, you're really high. You just met me." I let out a snort of laughter, clapping my hands over my face and laughing some more afterward. "What if I'm some deranged psycho killer?" Lars moved closer to me, shaking his head at my stupid comment. "You're like, 5'4". I highly doubt you could murder me if you wanted to." He rested a hand on my denim clad thigh and smiled at me, as if for approval. "If you wanted to, now would be your chance." He leaned into me and brushed my hair off of my shoulder. He kissed my neck, then my jaw. His thumb idly stroked my thigh. "So, what'll it be? Will you let me live?" "You're such a freak, dude. And you talk too much." I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his. He almost lost his balance, swaying backwards, but caught me around the waist to steady himself. Lars ran his tongue over my bottom lip and I opened my mouth slowly, letting him in. Our tongues caressed one another as he lowered me to the bed. He lay on my side, his arms wrapped around my middle, as we kissed. Our kisses were slow and tentative, but the closer our bodies moved together, the more heated our kisses became. It wasn't until Lars' cold hand was slipping under my shirt that I realized how stupid I was being. Getting high and making out with a guy I didn't even know. I mean, it wouldn't be the first time, but I had to draw the line somewhere. "Shit, stop," I said, pulling away from him. He opened his eyes, clearly taken aback. "What? What's wrong?" His hand massaged my hip and I grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand out of my shirt. "Nothing. I just --" "You're a virgin, aren't you? I should've fucking known. Too good to be true." He backed off of me, defeated. I sat up, frowning. "No, I'm not. But I don't normally do shit like this." That was a lie. I did shit like this all the time. "I just met you." I really don't know what made Lars different from the other guys I'd met and hooked up with. He was different somehow. "How old are you, even? My luck, you're fifteen or something." "Hey, fuck you. I'll be eighteen next month. And don't act like you look a day older than sixteen. You look like you're still in high school." I waved my hand dismissively, glaring at him. I was annoyed now. "And what about you? You seem pretty fucking eager. Are you a virgin?" "Nope." He looked up in wonderment, not at all offended. "I lost my virginity a few months ago, though. I don't mean to be so...uh, forward, but that's just how that chick taught me. Sorry." Lars shrugged, tapping his foot along to the music in a lackadaisical manner. "Well, I'll see you later, Lars." I scrambled off of the bed and made way for the door, but Lars reached out and caught my wrist in his hand. I looked back and say him smiling up at me. Here I was, totally annoyed with him, but he was smiling like nothing had happened. His laid back demeanor both appealed to me and thoroughly annoyed me. "What?" "Stay. Let me get to know you." "So what? You can fuck me later?" Lars scoffed, grinning. "Shit, I hope so." "Your discretion is astounding, Lars." I gave in, though, and settled back onto his bed. We returned to our original position, me on my back and him on his side, resting to my right. But he didn't move to kiss me again. Instead, Lars propped his head up in his hand. "So, talk." - - - - I hadn't spoken that long to anyone in ages, not even my own mother. Lars and I held a conversation for at least three hours. It was late now, about 1 AM. We talked about music, swapped war stories with drinking and drugs, complained about our lives, and just talked. I could really grow to like this kid. Maybe. "So, your name is Zelda King. You're seventeen and you're from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania." He looked at me with raised eyebrows, and I nodded for him to continue. "Your mom is, in your words, 'a golddigging idiot' and you've had five stepfathers. Uh, your favorite band is Motörhead. You smoke Camels, which are gross, and you hate the cold and you love football. Or soccer. Whatever." He rolled his eyes, then grinned. "And me?" "You're Lars Ulrich. You're eighteen and you were born in Denmark, but you live in this shithole state. Your dad's a tennis player and a musician and your mom is 'awesome'. You play drums in Metallica. You like Budgie and Iron Maiden. You deliver papers at present and you hate it. You like tennis and sushi, which is gross." He laughed and I smiled, before adding my own input. "And you have great legs. And nice eyes. And you're adorable when you laugh." "You're too nice," he said, smirking. He brushed his lips against my neck, then rested his hand on my bare waist. He moved his hand up, making lazy circles on my stomach with his pointer finger. I took his chin between two of my fingers and tilted his face towards mine. We kissed again, returning to the fervent kisses we shared before. Yeah, California wasn't half bad. |
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| larscriancinha | September 27, 2011, 1:27 am Post #5 |
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Larsybaby
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How cute! I loved this part.
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| ElisabethOrion | September 27, 2011, 1:42 am Post #6 |
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I'm creatively constipated.
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Aww. Little flirty Lars. I love it. :horns2
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| Lars Mi Amor | September 27, 2011, 5:45 pm Post #7 |
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Lars the Great
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'The smell of recently cooked food' Mmmmmm lol I'm such a fat ass......... I did not like Zelda one bit but now its even worse because she got to have a hot makeout session with Lars, the freaking flirt sdhfasdjvfds. (I'm just playing I'm starting to like her lol) The part where she stopped Lars because she didn't want to have sex with him, I was going crazy lol. Like bitch wtf are you doing?? Finish him!!! But I love the last part, he does have beautful eyes, hot legs, and an adorable laugh asdfsdfsdfsdfsd I'm loving this story so far!
Edited by Lars Mi Amor, September 27, 2011, 9:28 pm.
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| disposable_hero | September 27, 2011, 11:15 pm Post #8 |
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Frantic
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Thank you guys so much. But you have to understand that Zelda is a bitch because her only role model is her mother and her mother is a bitch, soooo She learns, though. - - - - Two months later and Lars and I had gotten pretty close. But we still hadn't had sex. Lars didn't instigate anything after the first night, but after that we talked a lot and fooled around. A lot. He lived in El Cerrito now, which was about seven hours north, so I didn't get to see him as often as I'd like to. I was treating this like a relationship when, in reality, we were just really close. There were no relationship aspects about the way we acted around one another. We didn't fall all over each other and we didn't fight like any of the couples I knew. We were very chill, just talking and listening to music and shit. That didn't eliminate the fact that I missed him. I was bored again. I had my own money now, but I didn't want to move out. Where the fuck was I going to go? I didn't know anyone in California but the people Lars introduced me to. I had no reason to leave, so I stayed. But my stay in my condo was about to end. "Zelda! Zelda, sweetie, come into the kitchen!" I poked my head out of my bedroom door and saw my mother waving me over to the other side of the condo. With a roll of my eyes and a sigh of reluctance, I slowly made my way to the kitchen. "What?" I leaned against the island, my arms crossed over my chest. Bradley, my mother's latest conquest, sat at the table, grinning stupidly. I rolled my eyes again. "We're pregnant! Well, I'm pregnant!" She lifted her left hand, newly adorned with a new engagement ring, to her mouth and giggled behind it. I could’ve gagged. Regardless, this was very bad. Very, very bad. My mother had me when she was sixteen, which made her thirty-four. She was still so young. Where I was unwanted, this baby would be more than so. I would be kicked to the curb. "What's that mean for me? There're two rooms in this place and he --" I lifted a finger to Bradley, frowning. "He lives in a commune or something. Not the ideal place to raise a child." "Well, we were thinking you could take the living room until we got a new place," Bradley piped up, smiling sheepishly. A bigger place. You'd have a huge room." He looked uneasy, like my mother had convinced him to say this. It was a lie. I contorted my face to keep the tears from falling. My own mother wanted to get rid of me. "Oh, sweetie," my mother reached out for me, feigning maternal instincts for Bradley's sake, but I knocked her arms away. "I know when I'm not wanted, Irene. I'll leave tonight." My mother did nothing to protest my leaving, but she looked sad. However, there was a glint of satisfaction in her brown eyes and she smiled when Bradley looked away. Disgusted, I turned my back on her and strode coolly back to my room. I shoved everything I could fit into bags. My clothes were the least of my priorities. I packed books and tapes and records into bags, and then I moved onto clothes. And then I moved onto important things, like my safe. When everything was shoved haphazardly into four separate bags, I made my trek outside. Irene was silent as she watched me. My things were loaded into my car and, just as I was about to leave, the door to the Ulrich’s condo opened. Torben poked his head out, blinking. He spotted me and waved cheerfully. He walked over to my car and I noticed that his gait was similar to Lars'. I smiled through my tears. "What was all the banging next door? Are you okay?" The man leaned on the car door, speaking through the open window. I shrugged. "My mom wanted me gone, so I'm leaving." "Leaving? To go where?" "I uh...I don't know, really. But I've got money and I'll find a place." I shrugged again, looking away as more tears fell from my eyes. Torben rested a hand on my shoulder. "No, you'll stay with us, okay? With Lone and I. You've been good to Lars these past few months and you can have his room until you find someplace." He did something then that only a father should do. He took my chin in his hand and turned my face towards his so I was paying attention to him. "Okay?" I gulped back tears, but nodded. "Okay." He opened the car door, smiling. "Okay. Come on, then. I'll get your things inside." I looked at my condo and saw the curtain to the front window fall. My mother had been watching and she was probably infuriated right now. Served her right. I climbed out of my Honda and hugged Torben. "Thank you," I said, pulling away. He patted the top of my head and I laughed softly before retrieving two of the four bags in the car. He grabbed the other two and we entered his condo. - - - - Lone Ulrich took one look at me and sent me to bed. My eyes were puffy from crying and there were still tears running down my face. She felt my head and told me I had a slight fever and shoved me into Lars' room. So this is what it was like to have an interactive mother. It felt nice. I curled up in Lars' bed, crying some more. I tried my best to be quiet, but failed. I sobbed and hiccuped loudly, burying my face into the pillow to stifle my noises. The one thing that comforted me was the atmosphere of the room. It was exactly as Lars had left it: an organized mess. Everything had its place, even if it was a little unorthodox. The clothes he didn't take with him littered the floor and his bed still smelled like him. A faint smell of cigarettes mixed with sweat and some European cologne that I hated. But it was Lars, so I welcomed it. I stared at the ceiling, wrapped in Lars' sheets, wondering how my mother could be okay with kicking me out. Well, not kicking me out, but approving of my leaving. A real mother would fight for me. A real mother would've wanted me to stay, to celebrate her marriage and our new family member, but Irene wanted nothing to do with me. I ruined her life and she had a chance to start over. She was a bitch. A heartless, cold bitch. I would never be like her. My tears eventually dried, but I stayed in bed anyway. No one bothered me and I was grateful for the Ulrichs. They knew exactly what to do. They knew how to treat young people. They knew how to be parents. I loved them, even after such a short time. They'd been so good to me, making me dinner and inviting me over just to talk. I guessed at the time that Torben was getting tired of seeing me sitting on my deck by myself, but I realized that Lars had urged his parents to do these things. It didn't matter, though. They were all good people. Early morning sunlight was threatening to flood the house when I finally emerged from Lars' room. The house was still dark, but I could navigate around it easily enough. I’d done my share of sneaking in and out of it, anyway. I went into the kitchen and located the phone. I dialed the Metallimansion's number, hoping someone was sober enough to pick up. "Hello?" A groggy voice answered, obviously annoyed with me. "Hey, who's this?" "It's Dave, who's asking?" Dave growled, huffing. He didn't enjoy being woken up, obviously. "Zelda. Go wake Lars up and put him on." "Ah, Lars' girlfriend." He laughed. "Why should I? What's in it for me?" He was getting cocky now. I hated him. "I'm not his girlfriend. Just go get him." There was a laugh and some rustling as Dave put the phone down. A dog barked from somewhere in the house. A few minutes passed until the phone was picked up again. "Hvad?" "I don't speak Danish, stupid." "What?" He repeated, this time in English. "My mom kicked me out. Your parents invited me to stay at your house. I just wanted to let you know so if you come back and my shit's all over your room..." "Wait, what? Your mom kicked you out? Why?" He was alert now. I sighed. "She got knocked up. I guess she wants a new family. God bless that fucking kid, though." Fresh tears fell down my face and I hiccuped. "Fock, don't cry. I'll come back tomorrow. Or today. I'll leave now." Lars was rambling. He was concerned. "You don't have to come back. I'm just letting you know. That's all." I laughed through my tears, but he insisted. "No, I'll come down this afternoon. Nothing's going on up here anyway. I'll see you then, okay?" "Okay, Lars." I hung up the phone, smiling for some reason. Maybe we were a little more than just 'close'. - - - - I spent the next morning curled up in Lars' bed, just as I had been the previous night. I hadn't slept, though. When Lone came in to check on me, I pretended I was asleep. I almost started crying again as she sat down on the bed, caressing my hair in a motherly way for a few minutes. The moment she left, I burst until hiccuping sobs again. I was pathetic. Why was I getting upset over the woman I've pretty much hated for the majority of my life? Why was I wasting my tears and energy on a woman who held me at a distance for eighteen years, only taking care of me out of obligation? She never loved me, so what was the point? Still, I cried. I couldn't help it. I eventually cried myself into a fitful sleep, waking up every few minutes to flip the wet pillow. I didn't stir completely, though, until the bedroom door opened around 1 o'clock. I knew it wasn't Torben because I heard him leave early this morning, shortly after I called Lars and I knew it wasn't Lone, since she had left a few hours earlier to run some errands. It was Lars. Assuming I was sleeping, he was trying his hardest to be quiet, but he banged around regardless. I kept my back to him, my forehead pressed to the cool of his wall. He sat on the end of the bed and I heard him unlacing his shoes. He tossed them to the floor, then crawled into bed next to me. "Zelda?" Lars spoke softly, placing an unsure hand on my side. I looked over my shoulder at him and he frowned at the sight of me. There were huge, black circles under my eyes and my eyes were still red and puffy from hours of relentless crying. My face was blotchy and my hair was frizzy, flattened from hours of lying around. I looked terrible, but he still pulled me to his chest, hugging me. "Did you sleep at all?" He asked, resting his chin on top of my head and I tucked myself into the crook of his shoulder. I shook my head and he sighed, running a hand through my hair. "You should, really. You look awful." "You're such a charmer." My voice was a mumble against his neck, but he still heard me. He laughed as he continued to comb my hair out with his fingers. "Tell me what happened." I sighed, shaking my head. Lars nudged me, urging me to tell him. I was silent, though. He pulled back from me and frowned down at me. "Tell me," he repeated, his eyebrows furrowed. I was about to shake my head again when he caught my chin between his thumb and fore finger. He gave me a slow, soft kiss, then pulled away. "It's me, Zelda. Tell me." "Fine. Asshole." I seethed for a few seconds before I collected my thoughts. I sighed again, then started, "She called me out of my room at like, eight last night. She was acting fake as hell, wanting to put on a good show for her fiance or whatever. So then she tells me she's pregnant. And then her fiance tries to say that they're going to use my room for the kid and throw me on the couch until they find a bigger place. Which, I'm sure, they had no intention of doing." I was crying again, but I scoffed anyway. "My mom had this fucking look in her eyes, like I was ruining everything. When I told her I would leave, she smiled. She fucking smiled." I let out a sob and Lars held me tighter. "And then, as I was leaving, your dad came out of your place and I told him what'd happened, so he invited me to stay here. And then your mom told me I had a fever and put me to bed and I've literally been laying here ever since." "You're shitting me," Lars said under her breath, his voice harsh. I shook my head and he cursed. "I'm sorry for all this." I let out a cough. "This is a load of bullshit. I'm making it out to be way more than it is. I didn't mean to get you and your family involved." Lars rubbed the back of his neck, frowning at me. I looked away from him. "It's fine, really. But I don't get it. I'm just pissed. She's your mom, for fuck's sake." I faced him again, smiling sadly. "Not everyone's parents are like yours, Lars. But it's not hard to understand why my mother acted like she did once you realize that I'm a useless bitch." "Hey, no." Lars was frowning still and he shook his head. "Don't say that. How could you think that?" "When that's what you've been hearing for eighteen years straight, it's hard to believe anything else." I shrugged, but Lars shook his head. He kissed me softly, but said nothing after that. I guess he didn't know what to say after that. He held me then, letting me soak his shoulder with my tears. It killed me to cry like this in front of him, but I really could not help myself. I was sick of being such a cold bitch, of withholding my emotions. And what really shocked me was how well Lars was taking it. He was an eighteen year old boy, how was he not annoyed right now? "You hungry?" Lars asked, noticing my tears had subsided. I nodded, but kept my face buried in his neck. He got out of the bed, pulling me up with him. I steadied myself against him. "Get dressed and come out then, yeah?" I nodded and he smiled, then left the room. I took my time picking through my bags to find something to wear and finally came up with a plain white T-shirt and shorts. I dug through the rest of my bags, looking for a sweatshirt, before realizing I'd left them all next door. I cursed loudly, kicking the bag at my feet. Uninvited, I rummaged through Lars' drawers until I found a long sleeved Diamond Head T-shirt. I swapped my white T-shirt for Lars' and exited the room, my arms folded over my chest. "Hey, in here," Lars beckoned me into the kitchen and I went willingly. He seated me at the kitchen table. Something was heating up in the microwave, probably leftovers Lars found in the fridge. I didn't care what it was, so long as it was edible. I was starving. I watched him as he padded around the kitchen, getting plates and whatnot. He retrieved whatever was in the microwave and brought it over to the table. I almost drooled. "Spaghetti," I said, grinning. "Fuck yeah. I love spaghetti." He doled out the food and we ate in silence, disgustingly slurping up noodles and getting sauce everywhere. We were gross, but we cleaned it up so Lone wouldn't yell at us when she came home. Such kids, we were. We went back into Lars' room, where he put on Led Zeppelin. Physical Graffiti. He'd put on side two first, for some reason. He fell onto the bed and he lay there with his hands tucked under his head, staring at the ceiling. I shimmied under the sheets, pressing myself to him. He took his right hand from under his head and wrapped his arm around my waist. "Thank you," I said softly, resting my chin on his chest and looking up at him. He looked down with lifted eyebrows. "For what?" "Being here. Dealing with my shit." I smiled, then rested my head in the dip of his shoulder. I hummed along with the music. "There's an angel on my shoulder, In my hand a sword of gold Let me wander in your garden And the seeds of love I'll sow You know..." The lyrics normally made me roll my eyes, but now they made me move closer to Lars. He noticed and looked down at me. "You alright?" "I'm fine." I scooted up so I was at eye level with Lars, then I kissed him. He laughed, but gave in, letting me push my tongue past his lips. This was how is always started, making out, and it only ever escalated to a hand job or a finger fuck. But I didn't want that now. I wanted Lars. All of him. "So let me take you, take you to the movie Can I take you, baby, to the show? Why don't you let me be yours ever truly? Can I make your garden grow?" Okay, Robert. We got it. I was falling for Lars. Hard. I never wanted this to happen, but this was Lars. I hated opening up to people, bearing my fucking soul and wearing my heart on my sleeve, but this was Lars. He was Lars. I needed him. Lars rolled to the side so he was on top of me. He slipped comfortably between my legs. I ran my hand through his hair and brought his face to mine, kissing him again. I teased him, biting his lips and running my tongue over them. My other hand ran down his spine and he shivered, groaning against my lips. Cold hands crept down my sides and I gasped, arching my back. The hands found the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down, exposing my hips. Lars pulled away from me, lifting my shirt up and trailing kisses down my stomach. He was bold enough even to let his tongue circle my navel in a slow, teasing manner. I laughed softly, throwing my arm across my forehead and turning my head to the side, enjoying his kisses. Just as Lars pressed a kiss to my right hipbone, his bedroom door opened. It was Lone. Lars rolled off of the bed in surprise and I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. To my surprise, Lone started laughing, too. "Sorry, elskede. I didn't know you were here. But ah, I'll leave you two alone." The door snapped shut and Lars climbed back onto the bed. We looked at each other and burst into a fit of uncontrollable laugh. We laughed loudly, dramatically clutching our sides. When I finally caught my breath, I wiped a forming tear from my eye. "What did she call you?" "Huh?" Lars sat up, still heaving from laughing. "Your mom. She called you something in Danish, didn't she?" Lars rolled his eyes. "Uh, yeah. It's nothing, though." I poked his stomach. "Tell me." "No." I poked him again and he knocked my hand away. When he didn't relent, I sat up and wrapped my arms around his middle. I kissed him softly, then pulled away. His neck was craned forward, hoping for more. "Tell me," I pleaded, kissing him again. I fingered the button on his jeans and he narrowed his eyes at me. "Fine." Lars looked at the door and pushed my wandering hand away. "It means 'love'. Or, if you wanna get technical, 'beloved'. She's called me that since I was a kid." He shrugged and rolled his eyes again, embarrassed. "Oh, that's cute." I laughed and leaned into him, brushing my lips over his jawline. I pulled back and he looked at me, frowning. I laughed again and he couldn't help but laugh at the sight of me. We fell back onto the bed, laughing again. "This is why you should come to El Cerrito. No parents there." "Which means what?" "That my mom won't walk in on us when I was about to focking eat you out. That's what." He huffed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, that's all? I was getting ready to fuck you." I rose from the bed, crossing the room to flip the record. Lars was watching me as I walked back over. He caught me around the waist, pulling me down onto the bed. He pressed a hard kiss to my lips then pulled away, grinning. "You're definitely coming back with me, then." |
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| ElisabethOrion | September 27, 2011, 11:45 pm Post #9 |
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I'm creatively constipated.
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dhjkdfhgdjksfg :horns2 Keep going! I love this! Zelda fell for Laaaaarsy poo.
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| disposable_hero | September 28, 2011, 1:00 am Post #10 |
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Frantic
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Another part before I go to bed. - - - - Okay, so my stay at the Ulrichs' didn't last very long. I was there for a day before Lars and I split for El Cerrito. Lone and Torben sent us off in the morning with their blessing, loads of food, and money for Lars. My mother was watching from her door as Lars and I pulled our respective cars out of the driveway. I waved sarcastically at her as I drove by and she gave me a cold look before slamming the condo door. I was following Lars in my Honda. We were halfway through with the seven hour drive to El Cerrito and I had to piss something fierce. Lars, reading my mind, pointed out of his open window to a rest stop sign. I honked in agreement and we pulled into it. It was a campground, completely deserted due to the fifty degree weather. I hope out of my car, shivering in my jeans and sweatshirt. Lars looked peachy in his unmarked letterman jacket as he strode over to my car. He rubbed his shoulders, bragging about how warm he was. I crossed my arms over my chest, frowning. He drove with his windows open for some strange reason, so he dressed for the appropriate weather, where I drove with my heat on and dressed for, well, heat. "Cold?" He asked in a tantalizing tone. When I nodded bitterly, Lars wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "I told you it was cold." I looked up and he was smirking. "Shut up." "A great comeback by Zelda King. Big round of applause, folks." Lars laughed at his sarcasm before kissing my forehead. "But now I gotta piss." He pulled away from me and jogged to the bathroom. I shook my head and headed for the women's room. I relieved myself and washed my hands with the highest temperature the sink offered, which unfortunately was lukewarm. I left the bathroom shivering. Lars was leaning against his car, swinging his keys around. With a smile, I approached him. "How much longer are we driving?" "Three more hours, at the most. If we speed, two hours." The brunette grinned, catching his keys in his hand. A breeze blew past us and I hugged my arms tighter around myself. Lars brought me into his arms again. "Even though the house is a shithole, it has heat. And lots of dogs. Fuckin' Dave and Cliff love them. And Cliff doesn't even live there." "Are you warning me?" I lifted an eyebrow, smiling. "Well, yeah. We're a bunch of pigs." "I can deal." Lars kissed me, hugging me closer to him. I warmed up immediately, getting warmer as the drummer's hands traveled down my sides. I opened my mouth, letting him in. Our tongues swam slow, lazy circles around each other for a few minutes and Lars' hands caressed my hips. He pressed his own hips forward, as if pleading. I pulled away from him, softly sucking on his bottom lip as I went. "Hey," Lars said, narrowing his eyes at me. "Get back here." He leaned forward, catching my lips with his. I pressed my hands to his chest, laughing. I pushed off of his chest, which only made him pull me closer to him. "We've still got a three hour drive ahead of us." "Just blow me. That's all I'm asking." Lars gave me a winning grin, his eyes sparkling hopefully. I shook my head, laughing. "No! I'm going back to my car." Lars shrugged. "It was worth a shot." He laid a soft kiss on my lips, then released me. I jogged to my car, started it up, and cranked up the heat. Lars pulled out of the rest stop and I followed. I turned on the radio, humming along to the Queen song the station was playing. - - - We arrived at the Metallimansion at roughly 2 PM. There were two cars in the driveway, a pickup truck and Dave's beat down Mazda. Lars parked in front of the house and I pulled in behind him. There was a big fuzzy thing resting on the porch, eyeing us suspiciously. It was a dog, but it could've easily been mistaken for a bear. "We'll get my shit later. I wanna see this fucking house," I said, meeting Lars on the sidewalk. He shrugged and walked up the tiny pathway to the house. The dog on the porch began to wag its tail at the sight of Lars. He crouched down, rubbing the dog behind its ears. It let out a whine of contentedness. "Hello, you miserable bitch," he greeted, his voice two octaves higher. The dog voice every person possessed. He beckoned me to greet the dog and I did, holding my hand out for her to sniff. She sniffed it tentatively, then licked it. She licked it again, then nudged it with her muzzle so I could pet her. I crouched down next to Lars, petting her. "What's her name?" She rolled over onto her beg, exposing her belly to me. I scratched it as I looked to Lars for an answer. "She's Dave's. She doesn't have one." He shrugged, giving the dog a last pat on the head before rising from the floor. I followed suit, waiting for Lars to unlock the door and let me into the house. Thing was, the door wasn't locked. Lars pushed the door open and the dog happily trotted in ahead of us. Dave Mustaine was sprawled out on the couch, snoring loudly. He was shirtless and the sheet that I assumed he'd been using to cover himself had fallen off of him and onto the floor. A small pile of cocaine rested on a magazine and there were small Ziploc bags, some filled with coke and others empty, like someone had been measuring it out to sell. "What a dick," Lars mumbled, frowning. He grabbed the nearest thing to him, an empty pizza box, and threw it at Dave. It soared across the room, landing on top of Dave's bare stomach, but the redhead didn't even flinch. Lars grabbed an empty beer bottle from the living room's mantle and crumbled it, then hurled it at Dave. It hit him square in the face. The dog barked joyously, taking it for a game, but Dave sat upright almost immediately, glaring at Lars and I. "What, dude?" "Don't 'what dude?' me, man. I told you to do that shit in the garage." Lars pointed to the coke on the coffee table and Dave blinked sheepishly. He got up from the couch and walked into the small kitchen. He came back with a paper bowl and carefully poured the coke from the magazine into it. "Hey, what are you doing here?" He questioned, finally noticing my presence. He scooped up the small baggies and cocked his head, waiting for an answer. "Oh, my mom kicked me out. So I'm here." I gave a shrug similar to Lars' notorious one. Dave gave me a once over and I glared at him. "Bummer. But you'll like it here." He smirked, then exited the house through what I assumed was the door to the garage. His dog followed, her tail wagging behind her. "He's such a creep." I shook my head and crossed the room, taking in the mess that was the Metallimansion. Without an invitation, I walked further into the house. The first room I encountered was the bathroom. I poked my head in for a mere second before pulling it back out with a look of disgust; it was a germaphobe's worst nightmare. I approached the next door, opening it slowly. It was James Hetfield's room. I'd only met him once or twice, but I didn't feel uncomfortable watching him sleep. Granted, I didn't feel uncomfortable doing a lot of things. He rolled over as the light from the hallway invaded his room, mumbling something incoherent. Fearing he would wake up, I left the room, softly shutting the door behind me. Lars walked up behind me as I approached his bedroom. He wrapped his arms around my waist and flicked my ponytail so it fell over my shoulder. As he pressed kisses to my neck, I turned my head to the side, resting it on his shoulder. He guided me into his room, closing the door behind us. I parted from him then, scanning his room. It was as if he replicated his room from home. Posters and the like peppered his walls and everything, the dresser and bed, were in the same place. The only differences were the queen sized bed and the white sheets hanging in front of the windows, acting as curtains. I pointed to them, grinning, "Classy." "Whatever, man. It's better than nothing." Lars came up behind me again, grinding his hips forward. "But let's not critique my bedroom right now. There's no one here to bother us and I'm horny." He brushed fingers beneath my sweatshirt, then brought his hands to my front, dipping them into the gap of my thighs. He massaged my thighs and nibbled softly on my neck, guiding me towards the bed. "For having lost your virginity a few months back, you sure know what you're doing." I tilted my head back, resting it on his shoulder. The drummer laughed, putting more pressure on my thighs. My knees buckled. "She was one of Dave's many girlfriends. She'd been around more than enough times, so she taught me well." Lars let out a snort of laughter and his hand found the zipper on my jeans, slowly guiding it down. He unbuttoned my pants and slipped his hand into my underwear. His fingers teased the area around my clit, but never made direct contact. "I can't stand anymore," I said after a few minutes, my voice a strangled whisper. Lars let out a soft laugh, dripping with arrogance. He turned me around and settled me onto the bed. I shimmied out of my jeans, letting them drop to the floor. Lars did the same, then climbed onto the bed. He crawled on top of me, his hands exploring under my sweatshirt. We kissed vigorously, breathing quick, hot breaths onto each other's lips. Lars tucked his arms beneath me, then ran his hands up my back. They came up through my hair, taking it out of its ponytail. "Zelda." Lars' voice was a harsh whisper against my lips. He said my name again, only softer. My hands wandered to the waistband of his briefs and I pulled them down as far as I could reach. Lars reached back, pulling them down the rest of the way before kicking them off. He was half-hard, I noticed at I looked down. He caught me staring at his dick and looked at me with pleading eyes. I smiled wolfishly. I pushed him off of me and moved to the floor, settling to my knees. Lars scooted to the edge of the bed and placed his hand on the back of my head. I took him in my hand, jerking him slowly. He groaned at my touch, tilting his head back. I ran my tongue over and around the head of his cock, working his shaft with my hand. He tangled his hand into my hair, moaning. When I finally took him into my mouth, Lars gasped loudly and gripped up my hair in his hand. I was bobbing my head, sucking him hard and working my tongue over the length of him, when there was a click behind me. The door had opened. "Lars, man, where the fuck have --" The person, who I assumed was James, paused. I pulled away from Lars, but didn't look over my shoulder. James sputtered an apology as he closed the door and Lars hurled a pillow at the door, shouting at James to learn how to knock. "Shit, sorry. I forgot to lock the door. But now he knows not to come in." He fell back on the bed, huffing. "It's fine, really." I held my hand out to him so I could get up. "Get back up here," Lars said as he helped me to my feet. I climbed onto the bed and then into his lap. He moved back on the bed, leaning his back against the wall. I slipped out of my underwear and tossed them to the floor. His lips found mine as I guided myself onto him. We began moving in unison, Lars rotating his hips upward and me slowly rocking against him. "Fuck, Lars." I arched my back and tilted my head back, moaning softly. As his hands traveled up the dip of my back, I could feel his eyes on me. I looked back down and we locked eyes as we fucked slowly. Lars leaned forward and kissed me deeply, my moans lost in the kiss. His hip maneuvering eventually segued into hard thrusts. He was groaning loudly, his fingers digging into my sides. I cried out loudly, burying my face into his neck. Lars' thrusts sped up and his breathing was broken, coming out in short bursts. I lifted my lips to his ear. "Please make me come and pull out. Please," I pleaded in a shaky voice. Lars slowed down and he moved a hand between my legs, pressing two fingers against my clit. He shuddered, even with the slow thrusts. He rubbed my clit and I rocked against him, moaning and shaking. I stopped moving as I reached my orgasm, biting my lip to hush my cries. "God, finish me off. I'm about to explode." Lars' voice was weak and strained. I climbed off of him, then continued what I'd been doing when James rudely interrupted us. Lars placed his hand on the back of my head again as I teased his length with my tongue and pumped his shaft with my hand. He couldn't control himself. He thrusted his hips upward, fucking my mouth. I relinquished some control to him, allowing him to pick the speed, but I continued to slowly move my tongue over his cock. My hands rubbed his thighs now and he shivered. "Oh, God. Oh, fuck. Zelda!" He came in short bursts and I swallowed graciously. Lars fell back onto the bed, his chest heaving. I crawled in next to him and Lars wrapped his right arm around my waist, hugging me to his chest. "Really, how do you exist?" "I'm just here, Lars. There's nothing special about me." The brunette smoothed my hair out and shook his head. "You're so dumb, Zelda. How can you not see what I do? You're awesome." Banging came from the other side of the door and then there was a booming laugh. Dave. He pushed the door open and I shrieked, throwing the blankets over myself and Lars. "Hey, you two, are you done in here? We're jamming in like, twenty minutes. Lars, dislodge her from your cock. Come on!" He slammed the door, grinning widely as he did. "You pick the best friends, dude," I said softly, letting out a laugh. "He's not that bad, I swear." Lars laughed with me, then got up from the bed. "I'm gonna go get a shower. I would wait until we're all in the garage to emerge from the room." He leaned down, planting a kiss on my forehead, before he stepped into his pants and left the room. I dressed again, leaving my jeans on the floor. I curled up beneath Lars' comforter and, for the first time in my life, dozed off with a smile on my face. |
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| larscriancinha | September 28, 2011, 2:10 am Post #11 |
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Larsybaby
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I like Dave in this. This was sweet and sexy. Can't wait for more!
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| Lars Mi Amor | September 28, 2011, 6:33 pm Post #12 |
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Lars the Great
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Just read the two parts and I'm really enjoying this story! I hate Zelda's mom. I feel bad for her the fact she has to put up with all of that! And sha blam! Torben to the rescue. Thank God he asked her to stay over at his place. And sdbvisdkjcnsdkjcvsfn that
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| disposable_hero | September 29, 2011, 2:43 am Post #13 |
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Frantic
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Y'all are peaches. Thanks for enjoying, reading, and commenting on the story. - - - - My first day at the Metallimansion was not uneventful. I discovered that these guys had no qualms about anything. They pissed and shit with the bathroom door open. Dave walked around in a towel for a few long hours after he got a shower. James ate like a pig and drank heavily, as did Dave. Lars was gross and drank a lot, too, but I already knew that and I didn't care. Cliff was the only refined one, in some sense. He drank and smoked a load of pot and wore these wide ass bellbottoms, but he was a sweetheart. I loved these guys already. Except for Dave. There was something about him that just bothered the hell out of me, but I couldn't put my finger on it so I ignored him, for the most part. Other than him, I was enjoying my stay here. "Zeldaaaa." Someone called from the backdoor. I was in the backyard, reading and smoking, taking advantage of the early March warmth. I'd been here a week and I didn't want to leave. Maybe, if I'd been dealt the right cards, I would be able to stay here. No, staying here wasn't important, but staying with Lars was. I wouldn't admit it to him, but I was head over fucking heels in love with him. I didn't want to seem clingy. And I'd taken my heart off of my sleeve; I didn't want to get hurt. Besides, we hadn't given our relationship a title. We were just...us, I guess. "Zelda!" The disembodied voice called again, grabbing my attention. Dave's nameless dog jumped up next to me, where she'd been dozing off. She ran to the door, barking. I looked up from my book to see Lars hanging out of the house, waving me inside. I got up from the grass and brushed myself off, then strode to the door. "What's up?" I tossed my book on the tacky yellow kitchen table then hopped up onto the counter. Lars wedged himself between my legs and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Wanna come to our gig tonight? It's at The Stone." When I nodded, he kissed me in thanks. Like I would miss it, anyway. This would be my first time seeing Metallica live. I was pumped. Lars took my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged lightly, smirking. We kissed roughly and I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me. There were footfalls on the kitchen tiles, but Lars and I didn't part. "Get a fucking room. Jesus." James groaned in agony at us and Lars pulled away from me with a grin on his face. James, proving my previous point that these guys had no shame, was in a towel, leaning into the fridge to get a beer. "Don't be an asshole, dude. It's not my fault you're jealous." Lars turned to his friend, still grinning. James turned around, scowling, and Lars kissed me again. The blonde scoffed and walked out of the kitchen. I was laughing, shaking my head. "You are such a dick." The Dane grinned and nuzzled his face into my chest. "I know, I'm sorry." He looked up at me, feigning apologetic eyes. I shoved him away and hopped off of the counter. "Come baaack," Lars whined, reaching out for me. I slapped his hands away. "If you want me to go later, I need to get ready." I flashed him a smile, then walked away with an exaggerated sway of my hips to irritate him. He groaned audibly, but didn't follow me. I walked into the living room and stumbled upon, literally, Dave. He was laying on his stomach on the ground, his head under the coffee table looking for something. I tripped over him and he jerked, hitting his head on the bottom of the coffee table. "What the FUCK?!" He came out from under the table, rubbing his head. I pushed myself off of the ground and brushed myself off. The auburn-haired guitarist stood to his full height and looked down at me, frowning. "Watch where you're going, alright? That fucking hurt." "Don't lay in the middle of the floor, then, and I won't trip over your bony ass." With a scowl, I stomped off. Dave let out a laugh and called to my back, "So you've been looking at my ass?" I paused at Lars' bedroom door, then looked over my shoulder. "The only ass I like in this house is Lars'. Grow up." I opened the door and slammed it behind me, annoyed. Why was it that I let that asshole get to me so easily? No one pushed my buttons like that. I pressed my back to the door, pondering this. My mother, the bitch that she was, had always told me she fought most with the men she had the most chemistry with. I pushed the thought away, shaking my head. I had no chemistry with Dave. He was just an asshole. The gig was in two hours, but the guys were leaving early to set up and rehearse and shit. I had an hour to get ready, so I rushed. I hurried down the hallway in a towel, but someone was in there. I banged on the door, and someone called back, "I'm pissing!" The one time they chose to close the door. "Hurry up! I need to shower!" I banged on the door again and it swung open. James held the door open and bowed, flourishing his hand forward. "All yours." I pushed by him then shoved him out of the bathroom. He and I both laughed as I closed the door. I showered quickly, afraid to stay in the bathroom for longer than I needed to. I was fearful of catching some sort of disease. The Metallimansion was as mess, yeah, but the bathroom was a shithole. There was a window inside the shower that faced the yard; anyone could sneak up and watch you shower. Living here was so weird. I was dressed now, in a pair of tight black jeans with the knees blown out and a blue ribbed tank top that hugged my torso in all the right places. I dressed like a guy, but I couldn't care less so long as I was comfortable. My hair hung down my shoulders, just as it was, thick and wavy. I wasn't into spraying my hair into a big, ratty mess; girls who did that looked fucking ridiculous. I didn't wear makeup, either, aside from a swipe or two of mascara. I just didn't see the point of doing all that shit to myself only to spend hours brushing my hair out and washing my face. I was too lazy for that, anyway. I liked to come home after a night of partying and pass out and wake up with only a hangover, not a pillow case and face smudged with makeup. There was a knock on the door then and I turned from the mirror, where I was towel drying my hair. "You ready? We're leaving!" I tossed the towel to the floor and slipped my feet into a pair of leather thong flip flops. Lars opened the door and I stepped out before he could poke his head in the room and tell me to hurry up. "Chill. I'm ready." Lars grabbed my hand and practically dragged me out the backdoor, where James' truck was idling in the driveway. I watched as he scrambled into the bed of the truck and I immediately hunched over, laughing, when I noticed his legs. He was wearing silver spandex pants. "Why in God's name, Lars?" I asked through fits of breathless laughter. "What?" He stood up in the bed of the truck and I laughed even harder. "Why are you wearing spandex?" I attempted to climb onto the back tire to pull myself into the truck, but I failed because of my laughter. I couldn't breathe. Lars, true to his laid back self, looked down at his pants and gave me an easy smile. "I haven't done my laundry in a month. Bear with me." He held his hand out and I took it, laughing still, and he helped me into the truck. "Oh, fuck." I slid to the floor of the truck and held my stomach as my giggles subsided. "I'm sorry. You just look so ridiculous." "I like these pants, thank you very much. They're comfortable as hell." Lars seated himself next to me. Just as I was about to start laughing again, the window to the cab slid open and Dave leaned out. "Just 'cause they're comfortable doesn't make them good looking, man." Lars flipped Dave off, grinning, while James started up the truck. "Yeah, Lars, you look ridiculous," the blonde said, eyeing Lars in the rearview mirror. He gave a shrug and leaned against the cab, laughing. "Whatever, fuck you guys." James turned on the radio, flipping through the stations as he drove, and Dave turned back to the front. I leaned against the side of the truck, my arms splayed out over the edge, and I stretched my legs out, resting my feet in Lars' lap. He looked at me and then at my feet, then shook his head. I'd picked a winner. - - - It was a little less than a half hour into Metallica's set and my voice was hoarse already; I'd been screaming along with the songs from the bar, sipping at the mixed drinks the creepy bartender kept sliding down to me. Being young and seemingly good looking had its perks. I had a great view, perched in my tall barstool. This was the first time Cliff was playing live with the band, but I wouldn't have guessed it if I hadn't been told beforehand. He fit right in, headbanging along side Dave and James like they'd been doing it for years. And then there was Lars. Don't even get me started on Lars. For one, he was a sweat-er. He sweated profusely. It would've been gross on any other guy, but he made it sexy. Even from the side of the venue, I could see the beads of sweat flying off of his body as he played. I couldn't get my head around the fact that I was attracted to this. I wanted to go on stage and pull him from behind his kit and fuck him senseless. It was that bad. Another thing was that he enjoyed playing with his shirt off. And I'm pretty sure I didn't need to explain that. And then the thing that made my fucking night happened. The dun dun dun dun dun of Diamond Head's 'Am I Evil?' started and I shrieked, clapping my hands over my mouth. This was my favorite song. I was never allowed in the garage when the guys rehearsed, so I didn't know what their setlist was. But now I knew what it was: it was fucking awesome. My hands stayed over my mouth in surprise until James started singing. I screamed along with him. "Am I evil? Yes, I am Am I evil? I am, man Yes, I am!" By the time the song was over, I couldn't speak. My throat was fucking raw. I stopped singing then, regretting my decision to waste my voice during the beginning of the show. They covered 'The Prince' next, before cruising into 'Blitzkrieg'. They ended with my favorite fucking song, 'Metal Militia', and I couldn't even sing along. Regardless, I had a ton of fun. "Thanks for coming out, you guys." James waved to the crowd and gave them a cocky grin. "Party at our place in like, an hour. If you don't know where it is, sucks for you! Otherwise, let's fucking go!" He let out a laugh and the band exited the stage. I wandered backstage, finding Lars in all his sweaty glory exiting the bathroom, but his back was to me. I crept up behind him and wrapped my arms loosely around his waist, running my hands over the tops of his thighs. "The hell?" He craned his head over his shoulder and smiled widely upon finding me there. "Hey, gorgeous," he practically purred, turning around and kissing me on the mouth. He backed me against the wall, grinding his hips into mine. We had no fucking shame. Realizing this, I pulled away from him. Lars gave me a questioning look, but I ignored it, smiling. "You guys played great. I was singing along the whole time." "Thanks." He leaned back down to kiss me, but I pushed him away. He furrowed his eyebrows, frowning. "What?" "We look like a bunch of teenagers. We have no control over ourselves." Lars looked at me, perplexed. "We are teenagers, Zelda." "We don't have to act like it, though." I crossed my arms over my chest and looked around, avoiding Lars' sudden glare. "What I mean to say is, we don't have to fucking make out and feel each other up when we're out." "You don't want me to touch you, fine. I won't." Lars held up his hands, as if to show me they were not near me. He looked hurt and I immediately regretted what I said. I'd never seen him like that and I felt like a total bitch. Back to square one. "Lars, come back." I chased after him as he stalked down the hallway. "I didn't mean it that way." I followed him into the 'dressing room' where the other guys were hanging around couches, drinking and smoking. He ignored me as he found his shirt and slipped it on, then grabbed a beer. I sunk into the couch opposite of him, next to Cliff, looking defeated. I held my hand out and someone put a beer into it. I snapped it open and gulped it down in record time, holding back a burp as I banged it onto the table in front of me. "Damn, Zelda," James said, laughing. He followed my example, gulping down his own beer. Dave and Cliff did the same with courteous laughs. Lars followed suit, but eyed me with contempt as he drank his beer. I looked away. "Alright, motherfuckers, let's go. I'm ready for a party." Dave rose from the couch, stumbling a bit. He reeked of alcohol already. It was only 11 o'clock. He was a fucking mess. We all followed the drunken redhead outside, the guys carrying their shit, and climbed into our respective cars after the stuff was loaded into James' truck. James and Dave went into the cab of the truck, Lars and I in the back, and Cliff to his beat up Beetle-looking thing. As we bounced around in the bed of the truck, Lars ignored me, his gaze fixed on his bass drum. He was legitimately angry at me. For the first time in three months, I didn't know how to approach him or talk to him. This was new territory for me, since I was so used to his calm and almost apathetic demeanor. And I needed to apologize before he got drunk. With the party later, there were bound to be some stupid bitches prowling, looking for a band member to fuck. And I knew that a drunk Lars was not a picky Lars, so he would go to bed with anyone who offered herself to him, and I really couldn't compete to some of those girls with their huge tits and long legs. If I didn't figure out the psychology of Lars Ulrich within the next hour, I was so fucked. |
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| larscriancinha | September 29, 2011, 3:51 am Post #14 |
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Larsybaby
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Oh! I wonder what is going to happen next.
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| Lars Mi Amor | September 29, 2011, 10:36 am Post #15 |
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Lars the Great
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Ohh she's fucked >_< dammit!!! isjvgsdkvgnaergv more
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I loved this part.

lol I'm such a fat ass
She learns, though.
I wonder what is going to happen next.

8:49 PM Jul 10