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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 (2,926 Views) | |
| MasterOfPuppets | September 29, 2011, 11:12 am Post #16 |
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♉ Love that little man always on my mind ♑
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hi! ^ ^ the history is just great! ![]() well done! I want to be Zelda keep on
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| disposable_hero | October 2, 2011, 2:49 am Post #17 |
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Frantic
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Thanks, y'all. - - - - The party was crawling with stupid, big-titted girls dressed like sluts and they were all over the guys. Another Bay Area band, Exodus, was also here and they were getting a load of attention as well. Lars wasn't paying the least bit attention to me, no matter how many times I apologized to him, so I decided to ignore him and make him jealous. I was a teenage girl. I didn't know how else to handle it. I was flirting vigorously with a guy named Tom Hunting. He was a little bit taller than Lars with straight, shoulder length brown hair. He was gorgeous and if I wasn't secretly crazy about Lars, I would totally go after Tom. And I was pretty sure he was the drummer for Exodus, so that made it even worse. "So, what's with the hair?" Tom asked with a grin, flicking a piece of hair off of my shoulder. "It's normal." I let out an exaggerated laugh, my eyes quickly flicking to Lars to see his reaction: he was next to Kirk Hammett, the guitarist from Exodus, glaring over at Tom and I. But his attention was taken from me when a petite blonde settled into his lap, caressing his face in the way that drunk girls did. I frowned, but continued with Tom. "I mean, would you rather it look like this bitch's hair?" I pointed to a girl that was walking by, her hair making her at least five inches taller. She turned and narrowed her eyes at me and Tom smothered his laughter in his shoulder, coughing. "Yeah, you're right. I like yours much better." He lifted his hand and ran it through my hair, over my ear. There was a small crash from the opposite side of the room. I looked over and Lars had dropped his bottle of beer, glaring at me again. The blonde in his lap took no notice, pressing a kiss to his cheek. At least he was noticing what I was doing. Maybe he would get the point. "Thanks, Tom," I said in a low voice, smiling up at him. He took my tone of voice as an invitation and leaned down, kissing me. His hands wrapped around my waist and traveled to my ass, then a little ways up my shirt. Just as I was about to initiate a deeper kiss, someone grabbed my wrist and yanked me away. It was Lars. "Hey, man!" Tom made to follow us, but Kirk came over to him, stopping him and explaining something under his voice. Lars brought me around the corner and shoved me against the wall next to his bedroom door. "What the fock are you doing, Zelda?" "So you noticed." I crossed my arms over my chest in annoyance and glowered at him. "Noticed what? You flirting with focking Tom Hunting? Yeah, I did. What was that about? What are you doing?" "I was getting your fucking attention, Lars. I didn't mean for it to go that far, but I just want to talk to you, okay?" He turned his head away from me and I gripped his chin in my hand, turning his face to mine. "Okay?" "No, Zelda, it's not okay. You were giving me shit about making out with you in public and you let Tom feel you up, in my house, no less." He pushed my hand away from his face, frowning. "I don't understand how you think that's okay." "Oh, now you're jealous? I didn't realize you had a reason to be. I didn't think we were officially 'together', Lars. And if you thought so, what were you doing with that dumb bitch in your lap? If you think so, Lars, why didn't you push her away?" "How could you not think we're together, Zelda? You moved in with me. We share a bed. We have sex like, twice a day." His hand smacked the wall above my head and I flinched. "Fock! You're so dumb sometimes, Zelda." "Alright, fine. I'm sorry." I held up my hands in defeat and pushed him away from me. I didn't want to fight. I made way for his bedroom, opening the door and slipping inside. I settled onto the bed and curled up against the wall, waiting for something to happen. Lars came in a moment later, huffing. "Zelda, don't be like that." When I didn't stir, he grabbed ahold of my ankles and pulled me to the edge of the bed. His arms traveled up my back and his pulled me into a sitting position. "I accept your apology, okay? Just don't do something like that again. I get jealous uh, really easily." "Then don't be so fucking unresponsive when you're mad at me. I like to talk things out. I hate not talking to you." Lars leaned down and grinned. "It was like, an hour." "Regardless." I crossed my arms over my chest for the umpteenth time that night and frowned, embarrassed. "C'mon," Lars pulled me to my feet, smiling as he draped his arm over my shoulder. "We're gonna go get drunk." - - - - And drunk we got. I woke up sometime the next afternoon, naked but for a long sweatshirt of Lars' and my underwear. I sat up in bed, groaning and clutching my head in my hand. Lars stirred next to me, mumbling something in Danish. He sat up, his hair a knotted mess on top of his head. If it hadn't been for my pounding head, I would've laughed at him. "Whassa matter?" He slurred, half-asleep. "Nothing. I just woke up. Go back to bed." I tried to climb out of bed, but Lars pulled me back down, nuzzling his face into my neck. "Stay here." He released a loud yawn against my skin. When I groaned and attempted to push him away, he held me tighter. "Bedes," he muttered, looking up at me with tired eyes. He spoke Danish to me sometimes and I understood that this meant 'please'. "I was going to pee, but you're lucky I'm too hungover to move." I moved down and rested my head on his chest. Lars gave a sleepy but content grunt and commenced snoring again, his arms wrapped around me. I closed my eyes, too, figuring I could do with a few more hours of sleep. I didn't leave his arms until the next day. - - - - I didn't go to the next gig at the Stone about two weeks later. I opted to stay at the Metallimansion instead. The guys weren't coming back until the next afternoon, since there was a party at somebody else's house for once. We'd never cleaned up from the party on the fifth, and then we hosted another one on the sixteenth. The house was a literal shithole. I couldn't walk barefoot in it. I was getting tired of living with a bunch of slobs, so I took things into my own hands. Or, should I say, I took the things and shoved them into the hands of a cleaning crew along with a few hundred dollars. I figured since I had a fountain of money and I wasn't paying rent or buying food for the house, I would at least clean it. Or pay someone else to. When the guys got home, they were shocked. "Since when do we have a rug?" James asked as he poked the foreign beige rug with his shoe. "The tub doesn't have that nasty fucking black ring around it anymore," Dave noted, walking out of the bathroom. "And the kitchen doesn't smell like shit." Lars walked out of the kitchen with a look of perplexity on his face. "What happened?" "Someone cleaned," I said simply, pulling my eyes away from the television. "You?" I laughed, surveying the boys with a smile. "God, no. I paid a cleaning company. Think of it as a thanks for letting me stay here for free." James grinned, nudging Lars. "Where'd you get a girlfriend like her, dude? I want one." The blonde turned to me. "Have any friends?" When I didn't answer, he laughed and left the living room, perhaps to look at his own room. My face reddened as though I'd just run a marathon. Girlfriend. Christ. Lars caught my eye before he crossed the room. He reached out for me with a smile on his face. I rested my head on his collarbone, my head tucked beneath his chin. "You didn't have to do that, stupid." Yeah, he called me stupid. I called him asshole. We were an affectionate couple. "Yeah, I did. I was dying here. It was so gross." "You should've said something!" "You wouldn’t have done anything." I looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. Lars shrugged. "Yeah, you're right." I laughed and he kissed my forehead in the way he'd taken to doing. "Hey, listen," he held me at arms' length, holding my hips. "You know we're leaving for New York in a few weeks, right?" I nodded and he continued, "Are you coming?" "Probably not. I'll stay here, find a job or something. I need to settle before I leave again." I was looking at him still and he frowned. "But you'll be back eventually. I'm not going anywhere." "If you're not coming with me, I guess we better spend as much time together as we can now, yeah?" He took my hand, tugging me towards his room. That asshole had a one track mind, but God, did I love him. |
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| larscriancinha | October 2, 2011, 3:01 am Post #18 |
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Larsybaby
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They are the cutest. It reminds me a lot of my previous relationship. I loved this update! That asshole had a one track mind, but God, did I love him. Especially this.
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| MasterOfPuppets | October 2, 2011, 5:39 am Post #19 |
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♉ Love that little man always on my mind ♑
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aww jealousy Lars! damn cute good job :horns2 |
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| Lars Mi Amor | October 2, 2011, 2:45 pm Post #20 |
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Lars the Great
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Lars being jealous is so hot ajeksfnskjf! I love this more and more
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| disposable_hero | October 4, 2011, 3:35 pm Post #21 |
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Frantic
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Uh, don't kill me. - - - - "Hello?" I picked up the phone and croaked into it, my throat dry with sleep. "Hey, stupid," Lars greeted with a smile in his voice. "It's 3 AM, you dick. What's up?" "Oh, whoops. Forgot about the time difference." He chuckled. "Anyway, I just wanted to talk to you. It's been like, two weeks. I miss you. You should come out here." He was chattering and his voice was chirpy. "What's wrong with you?" I sat up in bed, resting my elbows on my bent knees. "I haven't slept in a few days. None of us have. We took some uppers and we wanted to record a little bit, but that never happened. Oh, and we kicked Dave out. Remember Kirk from Exodus? He's our new lead guitar. He's so cool, man. But I feel so bad. Dave was my buddy." "What do you mean you kicked Dave out? Where's he at?" "On a bus back to California. I guess he's going to stop by to get his shit, so if he shows up you know why." He sighed, as if he were coming off of his high, but he continued chattering. "Anyway, you should really come out here. I miss you." I laughed. "Lars, baby, call me back when you're sober, okay? And when it's not three in the morning." "Alright, fine. Byeeee," he sang, hanging up the phone. I rolled over in bed, rolling my eyes. I was about to drift back to sleep when something crossed my mind: what was going to happen when Dave showed up? - - - - Dave showed up at the Metallimansion two days later, looking haggard as all hell. I opened the door for him and stepped back, welcoming in. His dog trotted up to meet him, her tail wagging, but he ignored her as he staggered to the kitchen. I followed him and leaned against the doorjamb as I watched him gulp down glass after glass of water. "What in the hell happened to you?" "I've been on a bus for two days. I haven't eaten anything. And I got kicked out of the band. Fun, right?" He snorted sarcastically and began rummaging through the fridge. After he ate his fill of cold pizza, he stumbled into the living room. Again, I followed. "Why're you here?" Dave slumped onto the couch and shrugged, defeated. "To get my stuff, I guess. Not that I have a lot. And then I'll uh, get out of your hair or whatever." "Where are you gonna go?" I perched onto the couch arm across from him. The redhead looked up at me. "Probably my mom's until I find an apartment. I was thinking of moving out, anyway. This fucking couch is killing me." I nodded and there was silence. Dave rose from the couch and left the room for the garage. His dog followed. The pair came back a few minutes later and Dave had a paper bag in his hands. "What's that?" "Drugs. I meant to sell them before I left, but I'm glad I have them now." He dumped the bag out on the coffee table and I watched as he sorted through the small baggies of coke before coming up with one with a small amount in it. I continued to watch him as he dumped the coke onto a copy of Kerrang! and cut the bump into these huge, fat lines with his ID he'd previously extracted from his wallet. In silence, he got up off the couch again and headed for the kitchen, where he rummaged around a bit before he came back with a straw, sliced to have a sort of slant. "I hope you don't mind. I just need something to keep me awake." I shrugged. "Whatever, man. I'm not a prude." "Good." Dave smirked under his tired eyes and snorted up one of the lines. He tilted his head back, sighing loudly. He noticed that I was watching him and he held out his straw. When I shook my head, he smirked. "Humor me, Zelda." "Just because it's free," I said, eyeing him. I took the straw and leaned down to the coffee table, snorting up the smallest line of coke. Just as Dave had, I leaned my head back and sniffed loudly. I'd done coke twice before and each time it had been gross and sticky, but this was pure. It made my head throb. "Jesus Christ. Did you cut this with clouds? It's fucking perfect." "Vitamin B. But what it was before was clean as hell. Too strong to take by itself, I thought." Dave took his straw back, vacuuming up another two lines. I plucked the straw from his fingers as he was rubbing some of the leftover cocaine over his gums. I took up the last line, a huge fucking croc line. "Oh, shit. That's good." "You're welcome. I'm glad you think so." Dave leaned over and grinned. His dog trotted over once more and he bopped her on the nose. She barked happily and crouched down into a play position. Dave pushed her muzzle away and she snapped playfully at him. She pounced on him and they started to wrestle. I laughed loudly, watching the pair. A few minutes later, Dave lay flat on his back, breathing heavily. The dog yipped at him but he voiced his surrender and she licked his face. As he caught his breath, he patted her on the head. He rose from the floor, laughing. "I'm gonna get my shit together now. I guess." I scrambled off of the couch and followed him into the garage. "I'll help. I'm going nuts." "If you insist." There was a small trunk that he slid over to me with his foot. "Take that out to my car, alright?" I nodded and didn't ask what it was, just heaved it into my arms and scurried out of the garage. After I rested the trunk outside, I bumped into him in the kitchen. "Oh, shit. Sorry," I said, sidestepping him. He gave me a once over and grinned, then proceeded to his car. That look. Over the few months that I'd known him, I had seen Dave give that look to girls he wanted to fuck. And he did end up having sex with 80% of those girls. Even in my high, I shook my head. Not a fucking chance. We were finished a half hour later, with all of Dave's shit piled into his Mazda. Every time we walked by each other, he gave me that fucking look and each time I found myself finding it more attractive every single time. I hoped to God it was the coke, because the normal me would be repulsed. I was at the peak of my high by then. I wanted to do everything. I wanted to dance, clean the house, call all of my friends, apply for jobs, fold my laundry, walk the dog, and learn how to play guitar. I wanted to do everything I've ever wanted to do. I was so high. "Zelda, you alright?" Dave asked, surveying me from the couch. I was darting around the kitchen, putting dishes away and wiping the counters down. I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little high." "Come sit down. You're making me nervous. The dog, too." I stopped in the middle of the kitchen and looked into the living room, where Dave’s dog was pacing nervously. I laughed and dropped what I was carrying onto the table before I entered the living room. "Okay, I'm fine." I lowered myself onto the couch, next to Dave, and he turned the TV on. He started flicking through the channels and I watched him, noticing that he wasn't incessantly jiggling his leg or drumming his fingers on his knees. He had a higher tolerance for coke, it seemed, where I had close to none. I was wired. "Okay, maybe I'm not. I need to get up." I was about to get up off of the couch when Dave's hand rested on my shoulder and he pushed me back down. "Calm down. You're fine." His voice was a soft one I'd never heard before and it made me feel better. I nodded at him and settled onto the couch again, resting my hands in my hand. "See? You're fine." We watched television for a few hours and by the time I'd grown bored of it, I was still high. It was also then that Dave decided it was okay to kiss me. I turned my head towards him to speak, but I found his lips pressed against mine in a hard kiss instead. I pulled away, flabbergasted. "What the fuck, Dave?" Dave didn't look the least bit sorry. He leaned toward me again. So close that I could feel his breath on my lips; I shivered. "Just let it happen, Zelda. If you're uncomfortable, fine. I'll leave. But don't tell me you don't want me." Okay, fine, I was attracted to him. I wanted to have sex with him. But I had Lars. I didn't want to ruin that. You can't think that Lars isn't cheating on you. An eighteen year old guy halfway across the country, girls throwing themselves at him. You could bet your life that he at least hooked up with another girl. This won't hurt anybody. I closed my eyes in an attempt to fend off the thoughts, but they kept coming, knocking against my skull and forcing me to listen. It was the drugs speaking, not me. I couldn't do this, I didn't want to do this, but the cocaine was pushing me towards Dave. The cocaine, not me, ignored the television and kissed Dave hard on the mouth. The cocaine let his hands roam my body and peel off my shirt. It took off his jeans and made my hands run up his shirt, squeezing the muscles of his lean chest. I watched from above, like some out-of-body experience bullshit, as Dave climbed on top of the drugged out me and the drugged out me pressed animalistic kisses to his jaw, my fingers scraping his back. I wanted to stop myself, but I had no control. The rational part of me watched as I wiggled out of my pants and Dave unbuckled his jeans. It was then that I came back down to my body. I was suddenly aware of what I was doing and I pushed Dave away, gasping loudly. "I can't. Shit." I scrambled off of the couch and dressed myself, embarrassed. Dave watched me with a frown as he refastened his jeans. "What's the matter with you?" "I was being stupid. You need to leave." I raised a hand to my face and squeezed my forehead, then pushed my hand through my hair. "Fuck! Just leave." I left Dave on the couch and hurried to Lars' bedroom, where I curled into my favorite spot against the wall and waited. When I heard Dave's engine start, I burst into tears. I ruined everything. |
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| Lars Mi Amor | October 4, 2011, 7:25 pm Post #22 |
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Lars the Great
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oK, I'm going to kill you! XD jk..... Dammit Zelda! sdfhsda but I know she didn't mean it so its all good for now >.> |
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| MasterOfPuppets | October 5, 2011, 1:04 am Post #23 |
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♉ Love that little man always on my mind ♑
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wtf I've been feel like this.... ""You can't think that Lars isn't cheating on you. An eighteen year old guy halfway across the country, girls throwing themselves at him. You could bet your life that he at least hooked up with another girl. This won't hurt anybody."" I´d kill Zelda heheI love it ![]() :horns2 |
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| larscriancinha | October 5, 2011, 2:04 am Post #24 |
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Larsybaby
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Oh, the many upsides to drugs. poor Zelda, I'm sure she meant no harm. |
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| disposable_hero | October 16, 2011, 3:29 pm Post #25 |
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Frantic
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A small part for y'all. - - - - Six months later My guilt was still festering inside of me months after the fact. I hadn't told Lars, obviously, because breaking his heart would kill me. If it really would break his heart. Perhaps if I didn't tell him who it was, he wouldn't be as upset. God, this sucked. Over the past six months I kept to myself. Dave left his dog and never came back to retrieve her - I figured it had something to do with what had (or hadn't) happened between us - so I assumed she was mine now. It was just the two of us, the dog and I. I even gave her a much deserved name: Joni. Just Joni and I. It wasn't the two of us for much longer, though. Lars and the rest were coming home at the end of the day and I was going to have to learn how to lie really well or face the truth. Neither of which I wanted to do. "One last walk before they get here, Joni?" I asked the dog and, at the sound of the word 'walk', she bounced to her feet and began dancing around me, yipping happily. I opened the front door and a blustery October breeze welcomed me. Joni trotted ahead of me on the sidewalk, sniffing every tree and pole she walked by. I took my time, knowing Lars would be returning shortly. I didn't want to face him. I followed the dog aimlessly around the neighborhood for almost two hours. When I realized how far we'd gone, the sun was setting and I decided it was time to head back. I took the short way home, cutting through back alleys and open yards with Joni trotting behind me. By the time we reached our street, the dog was panting; she was tired and so was I. "Hey, Zelda!" Someone called as I approached the Metallimansion. It was Kirk Hammett, whom I met only once or twice before. He was sitting on the porch with Lars and they were smoking. Lars waved at me, grinning as he pushed himself off of the wall. Joni galloped ahead of me, barking happily at the familiar faces. "Oh, God," I muttered, shaking with nervousness. Despite my anxiety, I put on a smile and walked briskly to the house, where Lars was waiting for me with open arms. Lars enveloped me in his arms and Kirk sniggered before slipping into the house. "Hey, baby." He ran a hand through my hair and then nuzzled his face into my neck. He inhaled deeply, then laughed. "I missed you." I noticed that Lars wasn't like usual: he wasn't fishing for sex. It was obvious then that he slept with someone, maybe multiple someones, on tour. I didn't let on that I knew, though. "I missed you, too." I lifted my chin and rested it on his head. "Come inside. We got food. And beer." Lars looped an arm around my shoulder and escorted me inside. - - - - Two hours and a few beers later, Lars was guiding me into his bedroom, leaving James, Kirk, and Cliff snickering behind us. When we got to the room, Lars kicked the door shut and turned from me, locking it with a satisfied smile. He reached for me and pulled me toward him by my hips. "Do you know -" he pressed a kiss to my jaw, breathing softly, "-if there are any condoms in the house?" Yep, he'd definitely slept with other girls. We never used condoms before. Why would now be any different if he hadn't slept with someone else? I pulled away from him. Lars blinked at me in question. I closed my eyes and sighed. "How many?" "How many what?" "How many girls did you fuck?" I then laughed softly to show him that I wasn't angry, even though I was slightly irritated and hurt. Lars cringed and sat on the bed. "How'd you know?" I laughed again and sat down next to him. "When you weren't forcing me out of my clothes two hours ago. And you just asked if we had condoms. Since when do we use condoms?" Lars let out a sheepish laugh, but fell back onto the bed and let out a groan. I stayed sitting and I felt his hand on the small of my back. "Shit, I'm sorry. I tried so fucking hard not to, but I was pretty drunk through the whole fucking thing. Like, there wasn't a time I was sober enough to comprehend what the fuck I was doing." I fell back to join him and hovered over him, smiling weakly. "I get it." Lars lifted an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'you get it'?" "Well, I kind of had sex with someone. But I was high." I rolled to the side and huffed. "How do you kind of have sex with someone?" "Let's just say my pants were off before I realized what I was doing. And then I stopped him." I shrugged. "Do I know him?" Lars and I had traded places. He was hovering over me now, staring down with a tilted head. My face reddened and I turned it to the side. "I guess that's a yes," he said, frowning. "Who was it?" I sat up and Lars moved away from me. "It was Dave." The tension in the room skyrocketed then. "Are you telling me you almost fucked Dave?" I nodded. "I was high." "Off of his drugs." He scoffed. "Why would you get high with him?" "You're telling me if a girl came out of nowhere with a pile of free coke, you wouldn't snort a few lines?" "Good point." Lars shrugged. "Still, Dave? Of all people, Zelda. He's my friend." "Don't get mad at me, Lars. I didn't even have sex with him. I should be the one mad at you, but I'm not. I don't care what happened on tour and you shouldn't care what happened here. It's done with." "Yeah, but..." I held my hand up to stop him. "If you're going to be a kid about it, I'll leave." Lars let out a scoff. "Where will you go?" "Can we not do this now?" I fell back on the bed, joining Lars once more. "I haven't seen you in six months and I missed you. I don't want to fight." I rolled over to face him, pouting. "I can't say no to that," he muttered, taking my face in his hands. I laughed softly and he silenced me with a kiss. For the first time in a long time, he was slow. He teased me with soft kisses on my neck, slowly making his way down to my collarbone as he nestled himself between my legs. His hands crept beneath my shirt and he brushed his fingertips over my sides, making me shiver with delight. Lars' lips found mine again as my hands traveled under his shirt and my fingertips began dancing over his back. He shivered on top of me and I laughed softly. "So," he said before pressing another kiss to my lips. "What about those condoms?" I kissed him, nibbling on his bottom lip before pulling away. He groaned. "Ask James. I don't have any." With a nod, the brunette left the room. I then undressed, perching myself on the lip of the bed in my bra and underwear. Lars returned a few minutes later, a small square of foil in hand, and grinned at the sight of me. He tossed the condom on the bed and unbuckled his belt, never taking his eyes off of me. He stepped out of his jeans and knelt onto the bed, pushing me onto my back. I sighed as he settled on top of me. I missed the weight of another body on me, specifically Lars'. I missed his narrow hips grinding into mine with anticipation. I missed his roaming hands, massaging my sides and tickling my stomach. "Did you miss me?" He asked, reading my mind. "You really have no idea." I laid a few soft kisses along his jawline after speaking. Lars looked down at me, blinking slowly. "I'm sorry, Zelda," he said suddenly before he kissed me softly. "I fucked up on tour. But none of it was serious. It was just fucking." His eyes squeezed shut and he cursed before rolling off of me. "Aw, Lars. Fuck." I crawled over to him and rested my hand on his chest. "I told you I don't care." "Just accept my apology. Let me know I'm an asshole." He was mumbling, looking up at the ceiling. "I need to understand that I'm wrong and that I can't do it again. I don't wanna ruin this." "This?" "This." He pressed his hand to my cheek, then pointed to his chest. "Us, baby." I nodded, understanding what he meant. I placed my lips over his ear and wrapped my arms around his neck. "I forgive you. You're an asshole." At this point, I was straddling his thighs. His hands trekked up my back, sending shivers down my spine. "But you're not gonna ruin us." I kissed him. "I won't let you." "Thank you." Lars leaned forward, devouring my lips with his. He reached behind me with both hands and unclasped my bra. As I let my bra straps fall down my arms, he pulled away from me and inhaled sharply. He slid my straps off of my arms and tossed the bra to the floor, then he filled his hands with my breasts, running his thumbs over my hard nipples. I let out a catlike purr and tilted my head back. His hands eventually left my chest and began stroking my sides. Lars leaned forward and kissed my stomach. "I missed you," he said in a husky whisper, his lips against my skin. One of his hands left my side and slipped into my underwear. He teased me, brushing his fingers over and around my sensitive area. I gasped softly and started rocking my hips into his hand, begging for more. Lars let out a groan and pulled his hand from my underwear. I looked down, realizing that I was grinding my hips into his crotch. He pushed his hips up and I moved faster, rubbing myself against him. His breathing was heavy and he was gripping my hips, pushing me down on him. He placed his hands on my thighs and rolled us over. He let my left leg go, but kept the other bent at the knee. Looking up at me, Lars ran his tongue up my leg and to my knee, which he kissed softly. His free hand groped around the bed, searching for the condom. I looked to the side and it was lying there. "Lars, baby, it's up here." With a grunt of thanks, Lars released my leg and I backed away from him. His eyebrows raised in question but he grinned when he saw that I was relieving myself of my underwear. Before slinking out of his boxers, he pulled the bed sheet over us. "Gimme a second," he said as he kicked his boxers to the floor. He then went to work on slipping the condom onto his hard length. When that was done, the drummer found his place on top of me and slowly parted my legs. "You're killing me," I said, my voice desperate. Lars laughed softly and silenced my words with a kiss. For once, I was the one who wanted the quick release and Lars was the one who wanted things to last. My hands found his hips and I pushed them into mine, moaning softly as he slipped inside of me. The brunette groaned loudly and buried his face into my neck as he started to rock himself against me. He pressed soft kisses to my neck and I stared up at the ceiling, lost in a sensual daze. He switched from his slow rocking to slow thrusts and my hips moved in rhythm with his. Everything else was a blur. I only felt Lars: inside of me, on top of me, all around me. I was lost in my pleasure, but I felt Lars weave his fingers in between mine and bring our hands over my head. When he gave me a deep-tongued kiss and sped up his thrusts, I opened my eyes. Every moan I emitted was lost in our kiss. My body was trembling. I pulled away from him and gasped his name. Lars laughed weakly, then let out a groan. He moved faster and gripped my hands tightly. "Fuck! Zelda," he breathed before slamming his mouth against mine in a rough kiss. He gave a few hard thrusts before we both reached our climaxes. He pulled away from me and pressed his face into the bed, silencing any cries he made, but I was gasping loudly as I came, eventually yelling his name. With a groan, Lars rolled off of me. "You're so loud," he said with a breathless laugh, bringing me to his chest. "What?" I smiled and rested my chin on my hands, which rested on his shirt-covered chest. "Are you embarrassed?" "No, baby." He shook his head and combed his fingers through my unruly hair. "You'd never embarrass me." He let out a snort of laughter. "I'm surprised you're not embarrassed by me." "Why would you embarrass me?" "This accent, for one. I'm a terrible drunk. I can't keep my hands to myself. I talk too much. Not to mention I wear spandex like, all the time now." "You're not embarrassing." I laughed softly and shook my head. "You're an idiot, yeah, but you're perfect." Lars leaned back, his chest bouncing with a small chuckle. "What every guy wants to be: a perfect idiot." I nodded and hugged myself closer to him. My perfect idiot. |
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| Lars Mi Amor | October 16, 2011, 9:04 pm Post #26 |
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Lars the Great
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Finally!! I was waiting for this update for the longest. Even though they both screwed things up, they were still able to forgive each other!! Asdfg ;-; and oh that lucky girl
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| larscriancinha | October 16, 2011, 9:58 pm Post #27 |
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Larsybaby
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ee. I love them together!
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| MasterOfPuppets | October 22, 2011, 2:59 am Post #28 |
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♉ Love that little man always on my mind ♑
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god.... very good! I want "my" Perfect Idiot too!
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| disposable_hero | October 26, 2011, 11:44 pm Post #29 |
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Frantic
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^___^ - - - - Metallica wasn't leaving California again until the end of November, so Lars and I had plenty of time to get reacquainted. We only knew each other for a few months when he left for the tour and now we had time to get to really know each other. It was so nice to have someone who was always there for you and willing to do stupid shit with you. Like right now, just two days after he got home. I'd been begging Lars to show me around California (even though he hadn't been here very long himself) and finally, he relented. We were in his mom's Pacer, the little fishbowl that it was, and we were driving through San Francisco's downtown area. As always, the windows were down and Iron Maiden flowed from the speakers. Lars drove with one hand on the wheel and the other was absentmindedly stroking my arm. "Where're you taking me?" I turned my head away from the window and smiled at Lars. He lifted his eyebrows and flashed me a lazy grin. "You'll see. You'll like it." "But what is it?" I turned my head to the side and gave him that pout he 'couldn't say no to'. Lars turned to face me. "Shit, I hate it when you do that!" He heaved a sigh and flicked my arm in the least hurtful way, then continued stroking it as he turned his gaze back to the road. "It's this focking hole-in-the-wall bar that me and James found when we first moved up here. We just stumbled upon it when we were bored one day. It serves food and it has this awesome view of the bay. Like I said, you'll like it." "And then what'll we do?" "Drive over to Half Moon and walk for a little bit. We've been inside for focking days. I can feel myself getting fat." I waited until we slowed to a stop at a red light before leaning over and kissing Lars. "You're so vain," I said against his lips, laughing. "Uh, I wouldn't be so good looking if I weren't, smukke." He placed a kiss on my temple and started driving again. I leaned back in the passenger's seat and laughed quietly to myself. Smukke. 'Beautiful' in Danish, I'd learned. It sounded so silly when it was spoken, but I liked the fact that I had a pet name in a different language. "Anyway, we're here." The car turned into an empty parking lot and I climbed out of the car just after Lars parked, shielding my eyes from the late afternoon sun that broke through the thick San Franciscan clouds. Lars walked around to the front of the car and looped an arm around my waist. We walked forward in a comfortable silence and I leaned against Lars, ready for a long afternoon of drinking and relaxation. We were greeted by a booming laughter as we entered the bar. "Lars Ulrich! Long time no see, you Danish fuck!" Again, laughter boomed from behind the bar and we turned to face the holder of it. There was a big monster of a guy leaning on the bar, grinning at us. He had bright blue eyes and a dark beard to match his unruly dark hair. "Long time no see, friend," he greeted again in a strong Irish accent. Lars held out his hand and the man caught it, shaking vigorously. "Hey, Frank. It's been a while." As they spoke, I leaned against the bar, taking in the establishment. Lynyrd Skynyrd drifted from an unseen jukebox and a handful of older, veteran-looking guys brooded in the far corner of the bar. Lars was right, it really was a dive, but it was welcoming. "Where's the tall one, James? Haven't seen him since April or so." "We've been on tour, man. We just got back, so you should see him soon." Frank nodded at Lars, smiling, then turned his attention to me. "And who's this?" "Oh, shit, sorry!" Lars pulled me toward him. "Frank, this is Zelda, my girlfriend." He then grinned brightly. "And you're bringing her here for what, my approval?" Lars and I both laughed. "If you wanna think that, sure, but I really brought her here for your crab cakes. So if you wanna bring some of those and a few beers outside..." "You got it, Lars." Frank winked at Lars, then held out his hand to me. We shook hands and he flashed his charming Irish grin at me. "Nice meeting you, Zelda." "Same to you, Frank." Lars guided me outside and lead me to a table at the very end of the deck. He even pulled out my chair for me. What a gentleman. "So, how was the tour? We haven't talked in a while." Lars snorted. "We spent the last two days in bed. I know." He groaned dramatically as he slid into his chair. "Anyway, touring was awful. First of all, we were in a tiny as hell winnebago and the focking air blew out when we were in Texas, of all places. Imagine waking up in a pool, an actual pool, of your own sweat." At my retch of disgust, the brunette laughed. "Yeah, it was gross." "Did you buy me any preseeents?" I teased, tilting my head to the side in the sweetest manner possible. To my surprise, he nodded. I'd only been kidding! "It's in the car, but yeah, I did." "Shit, dude, I was kidding. You didn't have to." "I was going to, to be honest, but I saw it and I had to get it for you when we were in France. My last twenty francs." He let out a woeful sigh and I kicked him under the table. He grabbed my foot and tugged it forward into his lap. As I slid out of my seat, Lars' hands moved up my leg. My body warmed at his touch. I was wearing a long layered skirt that flowed down to my ankles and his hands moved swiftly beneath the soft fabric, massaging my inner thigh. "We're in public," I warned, my voice wavering. My chair was pushed as close to the table as humanly possible and I was still slipping out of the plastic chair. "It's under the table and there's no one out here, so shut up." Lars shot me a grin and moved his one hand to my neglected thigh. If anyone were to come outside, it would look as though he were reaching under the table for something he'd dropped, so I guess he had a point. He was still grinning as his fingers kneaded my skin like warm dough, making me shake with pleasure. As quickly as his fingers brushed over the fabric of my panties, they moved away. I scowled at him, but lightened up when I noticed Frank approaching our table. "Are you alright there?" Frank tilted his head at me. I was gripping the sides of the plastic chair to keep from falling out of it and I probably looked ridiculous. "Um, y-yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I was just slipping." He smiled at me as he rested a plate with a mound of steaming crab cakes on it onto the table along with four beers, sweaty with condensation. Lars and I thanked him and then he ambled off, telling us to come get him if we needed anything. Once the Irishman was out of earshot, I aimed a kicked at Lars' leg under the table. Instead I kicked the table, howling with laughter and pain as I yanked my foot away from his grabbing hands. "I told you." Lars laughed. "You're such a prude, man. I was just teasing you." He lanced a crab cake with his fork and dished it out to me, then took one for himself. "I was starting to get comfortable, too." I lifted my fork and pointed accusingly at him. "You owe me." His rested on my knee and I smacked it away. "Don't worry," he said with a smirk. "I'll pay you back." I raised my eyebrows, but otherwise ignored him. We ate in a comfortable silence, taking in our beers and our crab cakes with small groans of culinary pleasure. By the time we finished, the sun was setting. I rose from my chair, stretching. When I felt comfortable standing, I made my way to the railing that bordered the deck. I gripped it tightly and leaned over, watching the light of the setting sun twinkle on the bay. Lars followed suit and I leaned back when I felt him wrapping his arms around my middle. He rested his chin on my shoulder. "Are you ready to go?" I nodded and turned my head to the side to face him. "Yeah, where're we going again?" "Half Moon Bay. It's bound to be deserted by now." He gave me a tender kiss, then tugged me away from the railing. We made our way through the bar, which had filled with more regulars in our absence. "Thanks, Frank," Lars called across the bar to the bar owner, who was busy chatting up a woman in her twenties at the end of the bar. "No problems, friends!" He waved. "I'll see you soon, I hope!" We waved back and turned to leave, but as we reached the door, Frank cracked a joke at our backs, "Don't let that asshole get the best of you, love!" Lars turned and flipped him off and his booming laughter followed us out of the bar. "Anyway," Lars said, climbing into the car. "To Half Moon, yeah." "Whatever floats your Danish boat, asshole." He glared at me and I shot him a charming smile. He laughed loudly as he started the car, then drove off. "Oh, yeah, open the glove compartment. Your present's in there." "Oooh, yay!" I wiggled my eyebrows and reached forward to open the glove compartment as he directed. A scuffed leather box tumbled into my lap and I unceremoniously snapped it open. A silver bracelet was spread out in the box. I literally gasped at the sight; it was gorgeous, with emerald bars linked with diamond Xs, bordered by the silver. "Where'd you get this? It's beautiful." Lars shrugged, but grinned widely at me, pleased that I liked it. "At some antique store in Paris. I got bored and walked around and went in. Then I saw that and bought it. The lady working at the store said it's from the 40s or something." As he spoke, I slipped my the bracelet around my wrist. It looked perfect there, dangling off of my wrist. "I love it." Even though he was driving, I pressed a hard kiss to Lars' lips. He shook with laughter and broke away from me, keeping his eyes on the road. "Thank you." "Anything for you." God, he made my heart melt. - - - - "My legs are focking kill me. I'm never letting you talk me into staying in bed for two straight days. I feel disgusting." The drummer was whining as we walked down the beach and his arm was slung over my shoulder. "Yeah, you're gross. You're getting soooo fat." I reached over and rubbed his perfectly muscled stomach. If he was fat, I was a dude. Lars chuckled and pushed my hand away. We walked in silence after that, the beach's cold, wet sand squishing beneath our bare feet and between our toes. A cold breeze came in from the bay and I shivered. Lars shifted slightly, bringing me closer to his chest. We were approaching a pier and Lars started walking faster. His arm tightened around my waist and, as we walked under the pier, he pushed my up against one of the pier's wooden legs. Even in the dark, I could see the sudden fire in his green eyes. He wanted me. With a huff, Lars placed one hand on the pillar above my head and placed the other on my hip. He lowered his face to my neck and placed a kiss under my jaw. "Can't wait until we get home?" "Variety is the spice of life, they say," he mumbled, slipping his hand beneath the waistband of my skirt. He took his free hand and slung one of my legs around his waist. I got the message and did the same with the other and Lars pressed his body closer to mine. "Who're 'they'?" Lars laughed. "Fuck if I know." He pulled down my underwear just far enough so he could fit snugly between my legs. As he pressed up against me, I felt the bulge in his jeans and smirked. His smirk emerged and mine disappeared as he slipped two fingers inside of me. I gasped softly, not expecting it. To keep me quiet, Lars covered his lips with mine. As we kissed, he began moving his fingers in and out of me, occasionally brushing his thumb over my clit. "Lars!" I cried, my voice a high squeak. I tightened my arms around his neck and began rocking against his thrusting fingers. He silenced me with another deep kiss. After a long bout of tongue wrestling, he pulled away from me, breathless. His fingers moved away from me and he put me down. While he worked on pulling his too tight jeans down to his ankles, I gracefully stepped out of my panties and kicked them aside. Lars groaned at the sight and hurried back over to me. "You're irresistible. I can't get enough of you," he breathed into my ear, throwing my legs around his waist again. His teeth roughly grazed the skin of my neck and I gasped. My body was tingling with want. Every fiber of my being was screaming the brunette's name, begging for him. Every touch drove me wild. His fingers brushed over my knee as he repositioned me and I let out a soft moan. Literally every touch. "Lars, please..." I squeezed his shoulders and he looked up at me with heavily-lidded eyes and a broad grin. He was teasing me, the prick. "Please." Lars leaned himself against me and buried his face in my neck. He inhaled deeply and slowly pushed himself inside of me. He rocked his hips back and forth and planted slow kisses on my neck. I let out a deep moan, leaning into him. "Shhh, people on the pier will hear," he said, breathing hot breath on my neck. Just as he was about to kiss me, lights poured over us. Headlights. It was the beach patrol. "Hey, you two! What in God's name do you think you're doing?!" Fuck, what a dumb question; it was obvious what we were doing. Lars' pants were at his ankles and my skirt was bunched up at my waist. We were obviously fucking. "Time to go," Lars said gruffly, dropping me to the ground. I quickly smoothed out my skirt and he pulled up his pants in one swift motion. I didn’t bother retrieving my underwear or my sandals, though. The drummer had one hand holding up his pants and his other hand grabbed mine. "Run!" "Get back here!" The beach patrol's car door opened and slammed. There were heavy footsteps on the sand, but Lars and I only ran faster. We weaved through the pier's pillars and eventually came upon more open beach. "Lars, the dunes. Let's go up there!" I tugged him forward and he skidded to a halt at the bottom of the steep hill of sand. "There's no fucking way I'm getting up there." He shook his head. "Nope." I was already climbing up and the beach patrol man was gaining on us. "Come on unless you want to get arrested for public indecency!" I laughed and started my climb again. Lars groaned loudly, but his strong legs quickly carried him past me and he reached the top of the dune in no time. I stumbled next to him a few seconds later, panting. "See? Wasn't that bad." Lars pulled me away from the edge and he plopped onto the sand, taking me with him. The beach patrol guy was at the bottom of the sand dune, hollering, "Where are you? Get out here! You're under arrest!" I buried my face in Lars' shirt, smothering my laughter. I listened as the man tried to climb the dune and cursed loudly each time he didn't succeed. "You're lucky," he shouted. "I have more important things to worry about than two horny kids!" When we were positive he was gone, we cracked up. I pushed myself off of his chest, still heaving with laughter. "Why is it that people only bother us when we're having sex?" "Well, we are in public," Lars said, shrugging. "But no one was here! We have the worst luck." "Nah, I don't have the worst luck. I'm lucky as all hell." He reached for me and I fell back into his arms. "My balls are a very deep blue and I've got sand in places I don't want to talk about, but I've got you." He hugged me, then sniggered. "And I have your underwear in my pocket. You're not getting them back." "You really are a charmer, baby." My hand patted his chest in a reassuring manner. "I know, and you love me," he muttered before rolling us over. He was busy wiggling out of his pants as I mulled over what he said. ...you love me. I did love him, yeah, but I was never going to tell him. I wouldn't admit it. The last time I told someone I loved them, they left. I was a little girl, around eight, when my dad, Andy, went back to Britain. He was my best friend. Where my mother was lazy and unresponsive, my father was loving and active in my life. He wanted to hear about my day when I returned from school, eager to put down my books and talk to someone; he took care of me when I was sick; he dealt with everything I threw at him. He was the best, until my mother drove him off. He left for England, but promised he would come back to get me once everything was straightened out. My mother took it as some sort of game and moved us around the country for ten years, never staying in one place too long. I never saw my dad again. I loved my dad dearly and he left me. I begged him not to go, but he didn’t love me enough to stay and deal with my mother, or at least take me away from her. Everyone I loved left me at some point. "We should go," I said, pushing him away. "I'm cold and it's getting late." Lars looked at me and blinked stupidly. "What...what'd I do? Did I say something?" He buttoned his jeans and reached for me, but I rose from the sand, feigning a yawn. "I'm just cold. I wanna head back." "Alright, I get that, but you're crying." Lars stood up. "Why are you crying?" "I'm not cry - " When I reached up and touched my cheek, I stopped speaking. I was crying. "Fuck." "What's wrong?" "N-nothing." I wiped the tears away. "Nothing. Can we go, please?" "Yeah, Zelda." Lars took my hand and tugged me forward. "We can go." As we made our way down the hill of sand, I couldn't help but analyze my tears. I was crying because of the withheld memories of my father, yes, but there was something else. Maybe I was subconsciously putting Lars in my father's place, imagining him leaving me. I really couldn't imagine my life without him. If I told him I loved him, he would leave. He wasn't finding that out. Ever. |
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| MasterOfPuppets | October 30, 2011, 11:59 am Post #30 |
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♉ Love that little man always on my mind ♑
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yay!! It was great! Hahaha smukke yeaah he is! fat or not good job! :horns2 |
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the history is just great! 





It reminds me a lot of my previous relationship. I loved this update! 
hehe
I want "my" Perfect Idiot too!

8:49 PM Jul 10