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perfectsunlight · 5 months

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𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢? [𝟗]

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮, 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝘆 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗲.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟮.𝟱𝗸

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

love wasn’t a member of ning’s family.

yizhuo only remembered her mother’s voice in the form of screams. the sound of her venomous tone still rang in her ears whenever she thought about her.

sometimes ning wondered if she would have been better off without remembering anything about her mother. growing up in a household devoid of love and filled with hostility had shaped ning in ways she struggled to comprehend.

she was too young to remember anything else about her mother. then again, she didnt stick around to leave any memorable impressions anyway.

not any good ones at least.

ning yizhuo knew the feeling of loss from the age of four when her mom left.

her father worked long hours, living paycheck to paycheck every month in order to keep a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs. she struggled to make friends due to her failing to have anything in common with her classmates. the noise that formerly filled her life had forced her to be silent.

she was quiet.

the walks home were quiet. her home was quiet. her life was quiet.

ningning hated the quiet. it made her feel guilty.

guilty for being the cause of her parent’s problems. guilty for being the reason her father was never home. guilty for being the reason her mom left.

that’s when ning yizhuo realized that love was not real. because if love was real, it wouldn't have left her alone in the suffocating embrace of silence and guilt. her mother’s love felt nothing like that, and neither did her father’s.

ning’s childhood became even more miserable the moment her father found out how easy money could be made off of her talent. suddenly she was signed up for music shows and competitions, just for her father to rake in a few extra dollars for rent.

she was got to being used for years, and it didn’t stop even when she left china. maybe that’s what made you so different to ning?

you never used her. the mere thought of you doing what everyone else did to her made her queasy. she hated ignoring your calls and texts, knowing how badly you wanted to explain things but she couldn’t bring herself to sit there and hear the words come out of your mouth.

to know for certain that you used her made her feel horrible.

but there was nothing in ning’s life that made her feel more miserable than seeing you and her group member together.

the first week was the hardest. yizhuo didn’t bother getting up out of bed. aespa had been given a few days off to rest and recover, but the young idol could do anything but rest.

ningning cried the first night you called her after what happened. the image of aeri’s hand on your waist burned in the forefront of her mind as she curled into her tear-stained sheets.

the sound of your voice was once a source of comfort, but it now echoed with the painful imagery of your hand intertwined with another's.

as she held the phone to her chest, tears cascaded down her cheeks, painting a vivid trail of her anguish on the pillowcase. part of her anguish stemmed from her unable to understand why it hurt so much. you two were never dating, or anything even close to it.

but you made her feel something she’s never felt in her entire life.

ning’s chest rose and fell with anguish, her breaths labored and heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. the cracks of moonlight shone through the blinds of her bedroom, illuminating her sea of pain and bringing to dim light her disheveled appearance.

she didn’t know how long she cried for, or when she even ended up falling asleep due to pure exhaustion. all she knew was that even when she woke, she felt even worse than she did the day before. the young idol convinced herself to get up and go to the company’s gym just to go for a brisk walk on the treadmill to clear her head, and also hoping it would exhaust her enough so she could sleep properly later on.

however, ningning wasn’t expecting to see you and aeri working out together by the weights.

the sight of aeri giving you a kiss before doing her next set made the air in her lungs disappear. she wanted to look away, to escape the suffocating pain that surged within her, but her feet felt rooted to the ground. the weight of her emotions held her captive, unable to tear her gaze away from the scene that tormented her soul.

a rush of conflicting emotions swept through ningning—pain, betrayal, and an overwhelming sense of loneliness. the sight before her shattered the fragile semblance of hope she had tried to nurture within herself, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.

with a heavy heart and teary eyes, she turned away, retreating from the gym with faltering steps. the tears she had tried to suppress earlier welled up again, blurring her vision as she stumbled back up to her room. her resolve to clear her mind shattered along with the hope of finding solace in exercise.

once back in the solitude of her room, ningning collapsed onto her bed, her sobs echoing in the silence. the morning sun poking through the blinds illuminated the anguish etched on her tear-streaked face. the weight of her emotions threatened to drown her in an ocean of despair once more.

this vicious cycle continued for the next week. ning would try and go out, only to see glimpses of you and your new girlfriend everywhere she went.

the subsequent days felt like a relentless onslaught of torment for ningning. every attempt to escape the haunting reminders of your newfound relationship ended in despair. it seemed as though fate conspired against her, offering constant glimpses of you and aeri, a bitter reminder of what she had lost.

whether she strolled through the company corridors or sought solace in the surrounding cityscape, the echoes of your presence lingered, a cruel and inescapable torment. the world around her seemed to conspire to magnify her pain, presenting her with constant reminders of something she could never have.

not to mention, aeri’s room was in the same corridor as hers. the quiet allowed for her to hear the muffled sounds of your voices before you disappeared behind aeri’s door.

the proximity of aeri's room to hers became a source of agony in itself. the thin walls, barely shielding the sounds of your conversations and laughter, felt like an intrusion into ning’s personal space.

the solitude of her own room now felt like a prison. each muffled conversation heard through the walls was a twist to the knife, a cruel reminder that you were just beyond her reach.

as usual, the chinese girl turned to her cigarettes for some form of solace. she told herself she’d quit, but in her eyes she no longer had a reason to.

smoke tendrils danced above her head as she tried to cloud her mind from the images that refused to escape her memory. the familiar burn in her lungs gave the young idol a fleeting distraction, a temporary numbness to the relentless ache that gripped her heart. her fingers trembled slightly as she lit another cigarette, the thin haze in the room a metaphor for the fog that enveloped her thoughts.

in the haze of her solitude, she found herself relying on cigarettes more often, seeking comfort in the transient relief they offered. each drag on the cigarette offered a brief respite, a momentary escape from the suffocating pain that engulfed her.

but the acrid taste mingled with the bitterness of her emotions didn’t give as much relief as it used to.

as days turned into nights and the cycle of torment persisted, ningning found herself seeking a different form of escape. the cigarettes no longer sufficed to dull the ache in her chest or to silence the echoes of her heartache.

naturally, she turned to liquor next.

in the quietness of her room, she reached for a bottle, the amber liquid offering a different kind of relief, a temporary anesthesia for the emotional anguish that consumed her. the burn of alcohol sliding down her throat provided a fleeting numbness, an illusory moment of reprieve from the emotional storm raging inside her.

with each swig, she felt the heaviness in her heart subside momentarily, replaced by a hazy blur that momentarily dulled the sharp edges of her pain. the room spun around her as the alcohol took effect, but she could make out your name on her phone as you called her for what seemed like the 10th time that week.

she hadn’t spoken to anyone, and used the “im sick” excuse to get out of practices. minjeong stopped by a few times to bring her food since she stopped eating, and jimin also would stop by to make sure the idol was still alive.

but she hadn’t spoken a word to giselle. not once.

in a haze of alcohol-induced emotions, ningning's phone buzzed incessantly with your calls. with unsteady hands, she clumsily reached for the phone, her vision blurred and thoughts muddled by the effects of the alcohol.

with a mix of frustration and despair, she answered the call, her voice trembling with the weight of emotions and the influence of the drinks. "what?" she slurred, the single word laced with bitterness and pain.

“ning…are you drunk right now?”

your concerned voice on the other end was met with a wave of conflicting emotions that surged within ningning. in her intoxicated state, she struggled to contain the flood of feelings that washed over her—a potent mix of hurt, anger, and heartache.

"why do you keep calling?" her words were tinged with a drunken resentment, an unfiltered expression of the raw emotions that festered within her. "i don't want to talk to you," she added, her voice cracking with the weight of unspoken anguish.

“aeri’s worried, i’m worried—”

the mention of aeri's name in your conversation, intended or not, acted as a catalyst, exacerbating ningning's intoxicated emotional state. the room spun around her, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions that clouded her thoughts.

"why are you with her?" she blurted out, her voice laced with a painful mixture of accusation and sorrow. amidst the blur of tears and alcohol, ningning felt a surge of irrational anger directed not just at the situation but also at you. the alcohol-fueled courage pushed her to voice the turmoil within her, even though she knew her words were fueled by intoxication and despair. “did you use me to get with my member?” yizhuo added, taking another quick swig of her bottle.

“no, yizhuo,” you whispered over the line, and ning could only imagine the rapper sleeping next to you. she didn’t need to use her imagination to know what the two of you were up to at certain hours, considering how close aeri’s room was. “if anything i used aeri to get with you.”

“oh so you just get naked for any of my members? is that it?” ning’s slurred words hung in the heavy silence that followed, the weight of her accusations reverberating in the air. your response, though whispered and earnest, only fueled the turmoil within ningning. her mind raced, clouded by the haze of alcohol and the jumbled mess of her emotions.

a bitter irony twisted in her thoughts. she wished she could be more like the rapper—confident, assured, and seemingly unaffected by the chaos that had engulfed the youngest member’s world. aeri embodied everything that ningning felt she lacked—an effortless charm, an air of self-assuredness, and an ability to navigate relationships with ease.

“aeri is more than someone i sleep with,” you replied quickly and firmly, not liking the accusations the drunk girl was implying. your heart ached for ning, and you wanted nothing more than to go next door and take away the bottle that was in her hands.

in her drunken state, ningning's insecurities amplified, and a pang of envy surged within her. never in her life would she be vulnerable with anyone, especially you. she couldn’t let you see the cracks that littered her life, or the dents that were prominent underneath every spotlight and red carpet.

yizhuo was damaged goods. no one wanted that. you would never want that—you would never want her.

“then what was i? just someone you slept with?” ningning shouted, silent sobs falling from her mouth as she curled into herself, clutching the bottle of amber liquid closer to her chest.

your attempts to explain and reassure ningning faltered amidst the haze of her emotions. your words, though sincere, seemed to collide with the wall of insecurities she had built around herself. as she lashed out with anguished accusations, you tried to interject, to calm the storm of emotions raging within her.

"yizhuo, please, it's not like that," you pleaded, your voice tinged with concern and desperation, hoping to reach through the fog of her distress.

but ningning couldn't bring herself to trust or believe in your reassurances. not while she knew you were laying next to aeri.

“no! you’re lying!” she cried out, the words laden with a hurt that pierced through the facade she tried to maintain. her voice trembled with a mix of anguish and desperation, her vulnerability laid bare in the solitude of her room.

in her fragile state, the emotions surged.

overwhelmed by the tumult of emotions, she ended the call and flung her phone across the room, an obvious gesture of her frustration and inability to cope with the whirlwind of emotions engulfing her.

nothing was helping her. not the bottle in her hands, the weed in her closet, or the cigarettes in her nightstand. there was nothing that worked anymore, and it mortified her.

little did ning know, you had been sober for a few weeks, and being with aeri helped you stay sober. it felt good, it felt right.

unfortunately, ning wasn’t in the same boat. she had only sunk deeper.

she had only ever smoked and drank, but none of that worked anymore. nothing was working. ning needed something that would make everything stop hurting.

which was why one of her last nights at the club she took a chance and stole something she never thought she’d end up doing. at least, not alone. she got it in hopes that the two of you would try it together.

but now it would serve a different purpose.

the idol pulled the baggie from the nearby sock on her floor. she had stashed it in there because she knew jimin would find it if it was anywhere else. the leader could handle the weed being in her room at most, but this?

this was different. this was dangerous.

ning could feel the ringing in her ears and her hazy vision starting to tunnel in on only the bag in the palm of her hand. silence filled the room, with not even the ac unit humming to fill the void.

it was quiet. it had been quiet since you left.

ningning hated the quiet.

which was why she ended up trying something new — molly.

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @jiihu @silantryoo @rosiehrs @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @skisk1 @jisooftme @babycubchae @yunjinhart @pandamiswifey @jenoteamo @lcv3lies @pagedpick7 @bexisbomb @lcv3lies @lauxymy4 @justalittledissociation @captivq @jeindall777

#ningning #ning yizhuo #ningning x reader #aespa x reader #aespa #aespa fic #kpop fic #karina #winter #giselle #gxg #wlw #kpop #groupie love #perfectsunlight

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groupie-loveee · 1 year

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Manga: Angel Academy's Beach Fuck Lesson

By: [Katsurai Yoshiaki]

#manga #manga cap #mangacap #groupie love

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30-3am · 1 year

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G R O U P I E • L O V E

✰ James Hetfield ✰

" Because he was a man of indulgence. And he’d found something that he wanted to indulge in. "

˚ · • . °

part one of ten

groupie love contents

warnings: smut, legal smoking and drinking, james's absolutely feral internal monologue, james hetfield does not go slow, mommy issues came from…somewhere

word count: 5.5k

˚ · • . °

Chapter One - Trouble

A cigarette was nestled between her fingers, a worn leather jacket loosely draped over small shoulders. Her mind was racing, the adrenaline gone and replaced with sickening anxiety. People around her entered their own conversations and joviality, ignoring her panic and letting her cope with her doubt and insecurity. She tried to push away the feeling of stupidity as she sunk into the couch, wondering why on earth she was in this situation - why she’d chosen to come to them instead of living her life like a normal girl. She had told herself it was going to be fun, on the phone with her friend that one night about how she knew where they were going to be staying and that she’d have the time of her life being rebellious and fucking a rockstar, even if it be for one night. But so far she’d just felt…uncomfortable and judged. Like everyone was looking at her as if she were a fragile, naive girl incapable of opening a man’s belt buckle.

A roadie was sitting next to her, arm over the back of the couch and hand playing with her hair. His touch was making her skin crawl and she looked to the band scattered around the hotel bar, hoping that maybe one of them would come and save her and the night wouldn’t be wasted. He droned on about meaningless situations he’d come across in his lifetime, rehashing his life story, every single word he uttered falling on deaf ears. She tried to give him a genuine smile, tried to be confident but she was faltering. None of this was fun. She hadn’t laughed once since she’d been there.

“You actually shy? Or are you just pretending ‘cause you think that’ll get you somewhere?” It was the first time he’d addressed her properly that night.

“What?” His hand was still in her hair, legs wide apart and a smug smile on his face - like he thought he’d figured her out.

“You actually wanna get with the band I’d drop the act, honey. No one likes a girl who’s playing hard to get.” The cigarette in her fingers was burning hot, the smoke reaching her nose and she wanted to take a drag; she wanted to feel her nerves cease. But his words had rendered her incapable.

“I’m not-,” she was struggling to move her lips as well. “I’m not playing hard to get.” He laughed, making sure his indifference to her opinion was known. His arm left her hair, reaching over to the side table to pick up his beer. Everyone else’s conversations seemed too quiet. It felt like everyone was listening - like everyone knew she had no clue what she was doing.

He sipped at the drink, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Look around you.” She did as he asked, following his eye line and the wave of his hand signalling to her peers. “All these girls, having fun, getting guys and you.” The ‘you’ struck her, gaze landing on him. Their eyes met.

She suddenly found the strength to take a drag of her neglected cigarette, placing it between her lips and feeling the smoke sedate her shaking hands. He watched her as she did so, eyeing her up and down, glancing at her body. “God, don’t pout. I’m helping you. You’re too young and pretty to involve yourself with these guys. Go home to your Mommy and Daddy.”

The couch shifted with the loss of his weight as he stood up, chuckling to himself and acting as if he’d just saved her from herself.

She watched as he left, body pushing past others before meeting (assumedly) his friend and leaving her alone. Admittedly, the loss of his touch and his company had left her feeling more insecure than she had before. Even if she didn’t like him, it was nice to know that someone was taking an interest in her. It had been at least an hour and not one person except for that insufferable roadie had paid her any mind.

She looked around the room as she stubbed out the cigarette, anxiously playing with her free hands. She observed her counterparts, nothing better to do than watch people.

It wasn’t packed; only a small group were around, weaving in and out of each other, conversing and laughing. The lights were low and it was all uncharacteristically opulent, the contrast of rockstar to modest luxury a sight she didn’t think she’d witness. She’d always wondered what it was like to be in the presence of those she most desired. In her head it was thrilling. So far, it had been anything but. She locked eyes with a girl standing at the bar sending her a light smile as one of the band members gripped her waist. The gesture was not reciprocated, and her cheeks burned in embarrassment at the rejection.

With embarrassingly shaky hands, she reached into the pocket of her leather jacket, feeling around for another cigarette and huffing when she was greeted with an empty packet. She shoved the useless cardboard back, crossing her arms in defiance, feeling the anxiousness dissipate into frustration. She wanted to go. She wanted to go home.

She reached for her purse that was on the floor between her legs, rummaging through it to make sure she had everything she came with. Her eyes landed on the new pack of condoms she’d brought earlier that day and scoffed. Stupid. She said to herself. You’re so stupid. She stared at them for a moment before cursing her fixation and pushing them to the bottom of the bag. She rifled through it a moment longer before closing it shut, throwing it over her shoulder and standing up. She brushed down her skirt, adjusting the strap of her purse so it rested comfortably and trying to put on the bravest face she could muster. A few heads had turned her way, glancing only once before returning to their preferred activity.

Her mother's voice rang in her ears, the constant mantra she had indoctrinated her with since she was a girl: “You’re not good enough.” With a final glance around the room, she realised with a heavy breath that it was true. She wasn’t good enough. And she was heading for the doors with a lump in her throat before she was stopped by a voice - a call of invitation.

“You need a cig?” She stopped in her path, hope blooming in her chest at someone's interest. She sighed as she turned around, breath catching in her throat at the realisation of who exactly had spoken to her.

She was almost sure she saw him smirk at her, the way her surprise was entirely evident on her face. She tried to wipe it away, swallowing hard and comprehending his question. At her silence, he moved the conversation along.

“You seemed a little angry when you ran out earlier.” The look in his eyes told her he was a little tipsy but his words were completely clear, his demeanour serious. Everything in her told herself that this was a joke and that he had no reason to be speaking to her, nor any reason to be paying enough attention to her that he had realised she ran out of cigarettes.

“I- um,” she preyed on the little confidence she had, forcing it to come out and relieve the beating of her heart and the shake of her legs. “No, thanks, I was just going.” She flashed him a small smile, this time, the gesture being returned. She couldn’t deny the warm feeling in her stomach at the realisation he was the first person that night to pay her any mind.

He tilted his head at her admission. “You’ve only been here an hour.” He’d been watching her? She could feel her skin heating up, her breathing laboured. “Leavin’ already?”

He made the conversation easier - made the encounter bearable unlike all of her previous run-ins so far. Strangely, despite her mind telling her she should be terrified of being in his presence, she instead felt at ease.

“I haven’t been having much fun is all.” Her voice was small but her eyes were wide, excitement coursing through her body at his interest. He laughed lightly and she was aware of the eyes on her, the curiosity from fellow bandmates and jealousy from other women.

“Well, we can’t be having that can we?” A smile overtook her face. A genuine smile. She could feel his hard gaze on her, burning into her face and making her cheeks heat up. Not averting his gaze, he moved closer. “Let me buy you a drink.”

She laughed a little, feeling warmth settle around her. She found herself looking into his eyes, hands playing with the hem of her skirt. If she wasn’t so focused on the beating of her heart and the haziness of her mind, she would’ve noticed the way he glanced at those nervous, shaky little hands. Timid thing. He could’ve laughed at how apprehensive she was. How he could feel how fast her heart was beating without even touching her.

She still hadn’t answered him. Bit pathetic aren’t you, girl?

“I’m James, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know.” She could feel herself getting braver in his presence, his forwardness a motivator.

He laughed lightly, reaching out a large hand to wrap around her shoulder.

“And you?” He watched as her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowed and the urge to laugh at her arose in him again. She could at least give him something. Anything. An arm touch? Surely two metres apart wasn’t her limit. “Your name?”

She giggled involuntarily at her stupidity, trying to mask her embarrassment and shame. But after a moment, she gave him what he wanted, listening to the way he tested her name on his tongue, asking her once again if she wanted him to buy her a drink. His hand was still warm and big against her shoulder and she felt the urge to scream, to bow down to him and give him whatever he wanted. But with a slow, shaky breath and a nod of her head, she rid of those immature feelings and let his arm snake around her shoulders, warmth pressing into her. He led her towards the bar, glancing at his bandmate with a nod and a squeeze of her shoulder.

“What do you want?” He asked once they’d situated themselves comfortably, his arm leaving her shoulder and she desperately wanted it back.

“I don’t mind.” God, she was a difficult one. “Whatever you’re having.”

“You okay with beer?” He watched her give him a little nod and she moved her hair over her shoulder, swallowing hard.

He’d seen her sitting on that couch, body tense and unmoving. Daniel. Fucking Daniel one of the sound technicians with his grabby fucking hands on her. James had been eyeing her up the whole night. Since he’d walked through the door and seen her so small and nervous - eyes wide and hands fighting each other for attention. Usually, he wouldn’t go for a girl like her. They were always trouble when they were innocent. But she was too pretty and enticing for him to ignore. So he’d watched; he’d watched the way she didn’t move from that spot the whole hour, the way she scanned the room desperately for some attention, and how when she thought he wasn’t looking, she’d glanced in his direction with want. Poor girl. Nervous and desperate.

Even for him, her silence was getting to be a bit much, so with an internal sigh, he took the lead, ordering the drinks and then focusing all his attention on her.

“What you doing here then?” She played with the hem of her skirt…again, and tried her hardest to be what he wanted her to be.

“I suppose you can take a guess.” Getting brave?

James’s laugh travelled into her ears and made her weak at the knees - made warmth spread through her stomach.

“Suppose I can.” He reached out to grab his beer, bringing it to his lips and watching as she did the same. His stomach turned at the way her lips wrapped around the bottle and he wanted to get the small talk over and done with so he could take her up to his room and have her. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

She took another sip of her beer, keeping it close to her, small hands clasped around the glass bottle.

“I’m new.” She didn’t really know what to say. She was surrounded by more experienced women - more experienced groupies if she was being more specific and yet he’d chosen her. He knew all these girls and had probably fucked a couple of them before and instead of familiarity, he chose her. It still didn’t make sense.

“You come with a friend?” He was holding back with her. She just looked so small and patient that he didn’t want to scare her off by being too forward. She didn’t look like the type of girl who’d appreciate him taking her to his room, fucking her and then leaving her be.

“No,” she shook her head and took another sip. “My friends don’t like metal so…” she laughed a little, looking up at him. “I’m here by myself.”

“You need to get better friends, sweetheart.” James looked away from her, leaning his forearms on the bar and taking a long gulp of his beer. Something about him told her he was getting impatient and the self-consciousness arose in her again. Pleasing him and keeping him interested was the only thing she wanted to do.

“James,” her voice was small and his name sounded so good coming from her lips. Then - he almost couldn’t believe she was being this bold - her hand came to rest on his. He looked down at them, her hand cold from where she’d been holding her beer and it looked so soft. He had to stop his mind from wandering to places too unorthodox. “You wanna go upstairs?”

She was almost whispering to him, her throat dry and her legs shaking. So, she took another sip of beer after her invitation, fighting the urge to down the whole thing.

Her heart sank when he laughed.

“Get one beer in you and you start getting brave, huh?” He was shaking his head, a smile on his face and he turned to face her again. He stopped himself from laughing at the hurt expression on her face - looking like a lost little puppy on the verge of tears. Yeah, this girl was gonna be hard work. “Sweetheart,” that fucking nickname again. It made her stomach flip and her heart beat even harder in her chest. She wondered if he could hear her - if he knew she was a nervous wreck. “Don’t go fast for my benefit. I like to get to know a girl before I fuck her.” He was lying but it didn’t matter. It usually made chicks go even faster if he sucked up to them enough.

Then, her hand was off his and he felt cold and wished he could take back what he said.

“Oh.” She glanced down at her beer, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

James couldn’t help but pity her a little, the way she sheepishly finished off her drink and wiped at the corners of her mouth with her thumb, not speaking, not looking, not touching.

So, instead of waiting, instead of being patient, he touched her. Took her face in his hand and forced her to look at him. Her skin felt so soft under his palm and he wondered to himself whether she’d put some sort of spell on him because no other woman’s eyes had looked upon him with such lust and desperation; no other woman had made him feel so lustful and desperate.

She wasn’t used to this kind of affection being displayed so openly in public but she couldn’t seem to care. His hand was so warm against her face and so comforting. He looked down at her and smiled, his long hair framing his face and the light was hitting him just at the right angle he almost looked angelic - the most handsome man she’d laid eyes on.

“How old are you anyway?” His question caught her a little off guard, still drunk on his touch and not being able to think of much else except how gorgeous he was.

“Old enough to drink.” The answer was a little less confident than she intended, her voice wavering as he moved his thumb over her lip. He only nodded, seeming to be deep in thought and he removed his hand from her face, taking the beer to his lips and downing it in one go, placing it back down onto the bartop.

And he looked back at her and her pretty, pouty lips and her cleavage that she must’ve been teasing him with, then her soft thighs that he wanted to bury himself in and then back to her face and her eyes. Her goddamn eyes. The colour of them would haunt him in his sleep, the innocence of them a reminder that he should leave her alone and never look back. Because he was a man of indulgence. And he’d found something that he wanted to indulge in.

But she kept on looking at him with her fucking eyes and her stupid fucking tits that were sat so nicely on her chest and he wanted her.

“We don’t have to take it slow if you don’t want to though.” And she felt warm again and her whole body was on fire and she wanted to grab him and kiss him. “I can get to know you after.” He was looking behind the bar, scanning the bottles and smoothing down his moustache, just waiting. Waiting for her answer.

A moment passed and he was becoming impatient, but her hand was on his again and her eyes were burning into his face and she muttered a small, “I don’t wanna go slow.”

James cleared his throat, pushing off the bar and standing up tall. He flashed her a smile and once again, put his arm around her and pulled her close to his side.

“Let's go then shall we?”

She was trying desperately to regulate her breathing and keep herself sane but the anticipation and excitement was arising inside of her and she wanted to run into the elevator and get to his room as quickly as she could. The situation was still difficult to comprehend; James Hetfield was walking her to his room in his fancy hotel, with an arm around her and a desire for her. She felt like she was still processing the situation as he pressed the button for the elevator and felt it carry them upwards.

His hand wandered from her shoulder, his touch light as he trailed downward to grip her waist. James smirked at her little gasp, knowing he was gonna have some fun with this girl tonight. He’d barely touched her and she was already gasping? Yeah, he was gonna have a lot of fun with her.

The elevator stopped on his floor, the key he’d gotten from security even before he had spoken to her in his pocket.

His hand was still tightly on her waist, her body warm against his and he wanted to kiss her. She wanted to kiss him and they both, without knowing, picked up the pace, James’s hand already reaching for his room key.

And he begrudgingly removed his hand from her waist and unlocked the door, letting her walk in first. She stopped and looked back at him, waiting for him to tell her what to do next. She needs him to tell her what to do? Really? But he wouldn’t say that to her out loud, in case he hurt her feelings and she ended up walking out the door, never to be seen again. He definitely wanted to see her again.

“You still don’t wanna take it slow?” He asked, letting the door slam behind him. They were both in the presence of each other now, with no other people in the room to stop them.

“No.” He smiled at her determination and he could see in her eyes how adamant she was. There was a confident girl under all that insecurity and he was determined to get her out.

“C’mere then.” How to stop her legs from shaking? How to stop her heart from beating so fast it was scaring her? He made no effort to move. He just leaned against the closed door and looked her up and down, eyeing up those tits and those thighs and wanting them wrapped around his head whilst she was writhing beneath him. And at his interest, she took a step forward. And then another and he was eyeing her up so hungrily and greedily and she didn’t stop her advances until she was standing in front of him, hands being placed precariously on his chest.

If she was a little more observant, she would’ve noticed the way he breathed in sharply, the way his hands went all too quickly to her waist and pulled her in closer. Making him lose it already, sweetheart?

She looked up at him, leaning in closer and he simultaneously pulled her towards him. She could feel his breath on hers, smell the beer on him and the shampoo he used in his hair and she had to go up on her tiptoes to reach his lips properly. And the tension was building and she didn't think she could take it any longer and his hand had moved to weave into her hair and he kissed her.

It was soft and sweet and she gripped his shirt to pull him closer. The grip on her hair got tighter and she’d said she didn’t wanna take it slow. So, he didn’t. Because that’s what she said and he would do what she asked.

The softness was gone and his hand on her waist trailed down to her ass, squeezing hard and the little whimper she let out had him faltering. This girl was killing him.

To keep himself grounded, he tugged on her hair, his tongue grazing her lip and pushing inside her mouth, ignoring the urge to fuck her against the wall when she moaned and gripped even harder on his shirt. His knee found her thighs, parting them and pushing his leg upward, loving the way her kisses stopped and her breathing stuttered when his knee hit her clothed pussy. So easy.

And he took the opportunity to kiss her neck, pushing her jacket off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. She tilted her head to the side, letting him suck a bruise onto her neck, so overcome with the pleasure that she couldn’t care less about him marking her - claiming her as his.

“Please,” her mind was so clouded over with lust and the little alcohol she’d drank that she didn’t even register the beg falling from her lips. It was only when James commented on it that she realised how needy she sounded. She did need him.

“You’re even prettier when you beg.” He’d stopped his attack on her neck, hand grasping at her hair and pulling her head back, leaning down to place a kiss on her swollen lips. “Think you can ask again?”

She could feel the ache in her cunt, the way it travelled all the way around her body and reduced her to a mess that would do whatever he asked of her. So she did. She begged.

“Please, James.” His cock twitched at her words, the need to be soft with her gone from his mind. He picked her up by the waist, not missing her noise of surprise as she wrapped her legs around him.

He tilted his head up to kiss her again, her hands on the sides of his face, unusually cold and unusually small but nice all the same and then she pulled on his hair and he couldn’t help but groan, his hands gripping at her ass and carrying her over to the bed that hadn’t even been slept in yet.

She noticed the way he carefully placed her down on top of the mattress, pulling away from her soft lips and tugging her shirt over her head. He glanced down at her breasts, clad in a lacy bra that he didn’t pay any mind to. She frowned slightly because that was her favourite bra and he practically ripped it off her without a second glance.

But her disappointment over such a silly thing was gone when his mouth latched on to her nipple, sucking harshly. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes closed shut, hands going to his hair as he held onto her waist, pulling her into his mouth.

“Please.” There it was again. The fucking begging. And James had been so patient with her thus far but his cock was hard in his jeans and begging for attention and she made him so pathetically desperate - this girl who he had known for no longer than an hour or so was making him weak. And he knew at the moment he should’ve let her run away. But her whimpers and little breathy moans were bringing an unexplored, carnal need to the surface of his mind and he didn’t care enough to let her go.

So, he pulled away from her soft skin, groping at her breasts as he kissed her again, softly pushing her down on the bed and crawling on top of her. Her small hands were at the hem of his shirt, tugging softly and asking silently.

“Needy.” He muttered against her lips but obliging all the same. He just couldn’t fucking say no to her. So, the shirt was off and he connected his lips with hers, the taste of her and the feel of her nipples on his bare chest enough to make his patience run thin.

He reached in between them to pull at his belt buckle, fumbling with the metal and leather before throwing it to the ground and kissing down to her neck, then her chest and then her bare stomach. He looked up at her with those entrancing blue eyes and pushed his fingers into the hem of her skirt tugging on the material and pulling it down her legs - over those goddamn thighs and stopping when he realised he’d forgotten to take off her shoes. Silly girl, why didn’t she just tell him? Always needing him to do it for her, goddamn.

He promptly took them off for her, her skirt shortly following and he threw both items carelessly into the corner of the room. And then he looked up at her from between her legs, kissing the skin of her stomach and watching as she moved up on her elbows - all wide-eyed and breathless, the mark on her neck visible and dark.

“Pretty thing,” he muttered, kissing his way upwards to her lips and gently nudging her down so she was lying on her back again. And his dick was hard and throbbing and she was there before him, so beautiful and vulnerable. She was there, for him, just in her panties, panting and writhing in need; and he knew. She was a keeper. He’d make the arrangements in the morning but she was coming with him. Wherever he went he wanted her there, to distract him and fuck him.

“James.” His name was light on her tongue, laced with that same neediness. Her small hands came up to tug at his jeans and her fumbling hands were toying with the button. Did she need him that bad huh?

“Okay, baby.” Baby? That was new. But she liked it - the way the name made the wetness pool in her panties.

James removed her desperate hands from his jeans and replaced them with his own, kneeling up on the bed so he could pull them off and he didn’t dare take his eyes off her and her wandering gaze. She watched him, pupils blown wide as he removed his clothes. Everything. Everything was gone in seconds flat and his laughter reached her ears when she shuffled underneath him and her thighs came to squeeze together.

“I know,” he said, big hands coming to caress the inside of her thighs and she parted her legs for him to gain better access. She still hadn’t looked away from him - his naked form. His chest and arms were so strong and a chain hung around his neck, dangling forward as he lay down on his stomach to kiss her thighs. His hair practised the same motion, covering his face and she found herself pushing it away, brushing it out of his face with her fingers. And he was kissing her stomach and her thighs and her breasts and he asked her to turn around. A command.

“What?” A kiss to her collarbone.

“Turn around.” His lips were no longer on hers and he was kneeling again, a desperate look in his eyes. He unconsciously palmed his hard cock, watching as she shakily turned around, cunt begging for attention.

“There you go.” His hands gripped her hips and he groaned when her ass brushed against his dick. “Look what you do to me.” Her panties were pushed to the side and both their breathing got heavier when he dragged a finger up her slit. “Guess you can’t say much when you’re that wet.” He teased her hole with his fingers, dragging her arousal to her clit and he had to grip harder onto her when a small breathy moan, fell from her lips.

“Please.” More fucking begging. “Need you inside me, please.” Jesus, where’d that timid little girl go?

James had been holding back thus far but his rationality and usual patience was gone with her and he removed his fingers from her pretty little pussy and lined himself up with her entrance. Her slick was on the head of his cock and he clenched his jaw as he pushed further inside her.

Her hands gripped at the sheets and his gripped at her hips and she was gasping as he inched further inside her. The stretch. The burn. The desire. Her breathing stuttered and her arms were shaking as he stilled inside her, hip connecting to her ass and he leaned down to press a kiss between her shoulder blades.

Then he moved and she gasped and he didn’t want to hold back because he’d been trying his hardest all night. So he pulled out and then slammed back in, jolting her forwards and warranting a loud moan from her.

She squeezed her eyes shut as he repeated the action, this time his own grunt unable to be quietened.

“God, you’re tight.” He thrust inside her again and moved one hand from her hip up to her hair, grabbing a fistful and making her arch her back. She moaned in surprise, the roughness not something she expected but something she enjoyed deeply and she wondered where these feelings had come from. Never once had she been this needy with a guy but James whom she had watched from afar for years had reduced her to this…mess and all she wanted was his touch and his kisses.

“James.” His name was on her lips and he went faster, gripping harder at her hair and she felt the burn throughout her scalp.

“So pretty like this, baby.” Baby. Again. A whimper slipped past her lip at the pet name. “Taking me so well.” His breathing was laboured and his hips were snapping wildly up into her and her entire body was on fire - perspiring and panting. She wished she wasn’t looking at the white, hotel covers because she wanted to look at his face. She wanted to see the part of his lips and the wideness of his eyes.

She was clenching around him and James grit his teeth to hold himself back. This girl was trouble. He was inside her and she was moaning and begging and pleading and he should’ve known that she was trouble. Her slick was running down her thighs and her gasps were getting louder. His fingers found their way to her clit and her arms couldn’t hold her weight anymore. She fell forward, James’s grip on her hair keeping her up. And it was all too much. Her nipples were grazing the covers and his fingers were circling her clit so slowly but he was thrusting inside her so quickly and the contrast made her head spin.

Trouble.

He should’ve let her go.

But she was coming on his cock and her moans were gracing his ears, angelic and mesmerising and he had to remind himself that he wasn’t wearing a condom before he came inside her. So, he pulled out, his cum painting her back and he groaned and kept his hand firmly on her hip, the one in her hair now pumping his dick and making him throw his head back in ecstasy.

And she was lying on her front, head pushed into the pillows and breathing heavily and he scoffed quietly to himself as he looked at his sin coating her back. He hadn’t worn a condom. Making him sloppy already girl? Yeah. Like he said. Trouble.

˚ · • . °

A/N: bare with the oc/reader (idek at this point), she gets better with time. that's kinda the point of her and james and well...you'll see. and this is my first time explicitly writing james's thoughts in any of my fics and i really enjoy it so i hope you do too. either way, i hope you enjoyed and i'll (probably) update every sunday from this point on.

#james hetfield #metallica #groupie love #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica smut #metallica x reader #metallica fanfiction #james hetfield x oc

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cherriesandwinegirl · 2 months

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🌼California Dreamin’🌼

#california #vintage americana #mamas and papas #california dreaming #70s #i’m just a girl #just girly posts #lana del rey #girlblogger #lust for life #vintage #retro #60s #hippies #groupie love #vintage california #go go dancer

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urfavcvntx · 30 days

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Mom and dad

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urbeautifulandiminsane · 25 days

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i have the biggest fattest crush on him but he lives 4 hours away :(

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f-0verdose · 6 months

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i want to be his hottest groupie, i want to be his girl

#music #rockstar gf #rockstar bf #90s inspo #aesthetic board #groupie #groupie love #lana del rey #kate moss #coquette #i want to fuck a rockstar so bad

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urbadmami · 28 days

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#groupie #groupies #groupie love #groupie aesthetic #70s groupie #70s #1970s #classic rock #rocknroll #70s aesthetic #1970 #70s girl #70s love #im with the band #penny lane #almost famous #rock groupie

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rocknrolltrailertrash · 3 months

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☆No One Even Knows What Life Was Like☆

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vintagelvrs · 17 days

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Rockstar’s girlfriend🎸🌼🚐🎡📻💊📿🚬

#rock music #60s #70s #pinterest #vintage #nostalgia #music #lana del rey #groupie #groupie love #kiss band #rock #led zeppelin #lynard skynard #the doors #the beatles #western

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perfectsunlight · 7 months

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𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 [𝟖]

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮, 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗲𝗳𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁, 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝘆𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗰𝘀.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 3.3k

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

ning yizhuo couldn’t remember the last time she felt loved. all she had ever felt was the absence of it.

there was never a good example of it either. her parents should have never gotten together, and yizhuo knew that her birth only solidified that fact. their union had been a volatile mix of resentment and regret, an explosion waiting to happen.

she was taught to understand that communication was only possible through shouting and slammed doors. and that you never backed down from your opinion, no matter what.

in the haze of neon lights and pulsating music, yizhuo watched you leave without a word, her eyes reflecting a mixture of resignation and defiance. she had learned, through the bitter lessons of her parents' failed marriage, that love was a volatile potion, one that could intoxicate the senses and then leave you shattered on the cold floor of reality.

the chaos of her upbringing had taught her that silence was the only language her family spoke, and apologies were the echoes of a world she had never known.

when you walked away that night, yizhuo didn't chase after you. the loud thumping of the music in the club mirrored the pounding of her heart, but she held herself back, locking her emotions behind a mask of indifference. in the dimly lit bathroom, she let her hands explore the body of another girl, seeking solace in a fleeting moment of physical connection, trying to fill the void.

but it was short lived, because yizhuo found herself bored with the stranger. even drunk out of her mind as she was, ning didn’t find the situation anything but boring. now the other girl was having the time of her life, but yizhuo couldn’t have cared less.

the bathroom became a suffocating space, the walls closing in on ningning as she pushed the stranger away gently, her touch lacking any real connection. the dim, flickering lights illuminated her face, revealing a profound emptiness in her clouded eyes.

the other girl, oblivious to yizhuo's inner turmoil, continued to revel in the moment, unaware of the hollowness in the eyes of the person she was with. yizhuo's mind was elsewhere, trapped in a cycle of something that felt like regret for the first time in her life.

she never regretted anything in her life. however, she suddenly felt this foreign feeling invading her body all because of what she had done.

all because of you.

she despised herself for not chasing after you, for not fighting for what she thought could have been the start of something more.

the music from the club seemed to mock her, each beat resonating with the rhythm of her heartache. she stumbled out of the bathroom, her steps unsteady, her mind clouded by alcohol and a gnawing sense of loss. outside, the city was alive with the pulse of the night, but yizhuo felt detached from it all. she walked the streets aimlessly, her thoughts in chaos.

the young idol could hear the clicking of the paparazzi cameras. they’d plaster her face in the media and continue building her reputation as a mess of an idol. she had become a prisoner of her own fame, her every move scrutinized, her every misstep amplified.

the media thrived on her vulnerability, portraying her as a troubled idol, and a mess of a person who was as broken as she was beautiful.

when she finally got back home, she spent 2 hours in the shower. the water cascaded over yizhuo's body, a feeble attempt to wash away not just the physical remnants of that night but also the emotional stain that clung to her soul. the sound of the shower drowned out her thoughts, the only place where she felt safe enough to let her mind flow freely.

as she turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the fogged-up mirror.

she didn't recognize the person staring back at her.

yizhuo collapsed onto her bed, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders. she reached for her phone, contemplating the idea of reaching out to you, the one person who had left an indelible mark on her heart. but fear gripped her. fear of rejection, fear of being vulnerable, fear of facing the truth that this was something more than what she realized.

however, her pride was too strong. she couldn’t bring herself to follow through.

instead, yizhuo's phone remained untouched on the bedside table. the weight of her unspoken words hung heavy in the air, suffocating her. the internal battle between her desire for connection and her fear of rejection waged on, leaving her paralyzed. days turned into weeks, stretching onwards in an endless line.

ning continued burying her emotions beneath layers of ambition and work. she threw herself into her performances, her smile dazzling on stage, but behind closed doors, her heart ached in silence. nothing felt the same without you.

smoking felt less helpful than it used to be. drinking and partying didn’t feel as fun anymore. nothing, absolutely nothing, meant anything to her anymore.

why was it that you brought so much meaning to the things that occupied her life?

the question gnawed at ningning’s soul, a constant echo in the hollow chambers of her heart. she found herself spiraling deeper into a void of self-doubt and longing. the stages she once commanded with confidence now felt like empty platforms, void of the joy and passion that had once fueled her performances. the applause of the audience, once music to her ears, now sounded distant and disconnected.

it was quiet again. yizhuo hated the quiet.

ningning's phone remained silent, devoid of the message she desperately wished to receive. each day without a response felt like another crack in her already fragile heart. she longed for something, for anything, that would make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

no matter how fast she ran or how far she traveled, she couldn't outrun her thoughts.

the memories of your smile, your laughter, and the warmth of your touch haunted her, turning every moment of respite into a battlefield of emotions.

it was even worse when her members started noticing.

karina was the first to notice.

jimin had always been perceptive and empathetic, and had always been attuned to the subtleties of yizhuo's emotions. one day, as they practiced dance routines in the studio, karina pulled the younger girl aside during a break. the concern in her eyes was impossible to ignore.

“yizhuo, i've noticed something's been bothering you,” karina said gently, her voice a soothing contrast to the chaos of their surroundings. the chinese girl hesitated for a moment, her guard momentarily dropping in the face of her leader’s genuine concern.

“i'm just going through a rough patch, i guess,” she replied, trying to brush it off with a weak smile.

but the older girl wasn't easily fooled. “you can talk to me, you know,” she said, her tone firm yet comforting. “we're not just members; we're family. whatever you're going through, we're here to help.”

ning’s eyes remained locked with her leader’s for a moment, giving her a small nod of acknowledgement before half smiling. “i know. i’ll let you know if i need anything.” the aespa leader decided not to push, and simply left it at that. however, minjeong was not one to let up too easily.

the other girl cornered ning by showing up to her room after a performance. ningning had just finished throwing out the rest of her cigarettes when her other member started banging on her door. minjeong's persistent knocks echoed through the hallway, each one a reminder of the concern that lingered just beyond the door.

reluctantly, ningning opened the door, her eyes betraying the exhaustion and frustration that had settled in her heart. “can we talk?” minjeong's voice was gentle, laced with worry. ningning sighed, her shoulders slumping, but she still moved aside to let the other girl in.

yizhuo’s room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a solitary lamp casting long shadows on the walls. the air was heavy with the scent of lavender-scented candles, a feeble attempt to mask the lingering aroma of cigarettes that clung to the room. the bed looked disheveled, its pillows bearing the imprint of a number of restless nights.

“what’s going on?”

she stepped into the room, her eyes scanning the space as if searching for answers written on the walls.

“ningie, i've known you long enough to tell when something's bothering you.”

the chinese girl turned away, avoiding the older girl’s gaze. she hesitated, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of her bed. she didn't answer immediately, her silence speaking volumes.

minjeong's eyes roamed the room, her searching gaze landing on the scattered bottles on the desk, the half-empty cup of cold tea, and the only framed photograph in the room.

it was a picture of the four of them on their debut day.

“i’m quitting smoking.”

the confession hung in the air, heavy with both relief and trepidation. ningning's voice was barely audible, as if the words had been torn from the depths of her soul. minjeong's eyes widened with surprise, then softened with understanding. she moved closer to ningning, her expression a mix of pride and compassion.

“that's a big step, ningie,” winter said, her voice filled with genuine admiration. “i'm proud of you.”

ningning nodded, her gaze fixed on the framed photograph on the wall.

“it's because i met someone.”

the younger member continued, her voice steadier now, though laced with something the korean couldn’t quite pin. “i thought maybe it might be good for me.”

minjeong's eyes flickered with curiosity, her expression encouraging. she was silently urging ningning to share more. ning never spoke of meeting someone before, making this occasion all the more interesting. the room seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for the secrets that lingered within the young idol's heart to unfurl.

"i met her a few weeks ago," ningning whispered, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. “there was just something about her, something that made me want to be better. i decided to quit smoking, thinking maybe if i changed something about myself, she'd see me differently too.”

winter listened intently, her eyes softening with understanding. she reached out, gently squeezing ningning's hand in a gesture of support. the room was filled with a profound sense of vulnerability, a shared moment between two souls navigating the complexities of the heart.

“ningie, changing for someone else might not be the healthiest reason, but it's a start,” minjeong said gently. “what is she like?” she pushed gently, not wanting to pry too much.

“she's different,” yizhuo began, her voice filled with a mixture of softness and admiration that the other member had never heard from the younger girl before.

“if the world is black and white, i only see color with her.”

minjeong was stunned, to say the least. she never thought such words would spill from the youngest member’s mouth. the ning yizhuo she knew was nothing like this. “ning,” she whispered, looking her groupmate in the eyes. “you’re in love with her?”

“love is a strong word,” the chinese girl continued, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she spoke. “i don’t think it’s that. but it’s something close to it.”

if only she could have told you that. if only yizhuo wasn’t a coward and cared about you more than her pride. because even after admitting to it out loud, the idol still never reached out to you.

ning spent more time checking her phone than she’d admit. it was torture. she silently cursed you for being just as stubborn as she was, but she knew she couldn’t blame you. after all, she was the one who had messed things up.

but she still wouldn’t admit that. maybe not to herself, but perhaps to you she would.

she may have been in the process of quitting her smoking habit, but her drinking was still just as frequent. she hadn't set foot in a party or a club since the night you left, though.

ning's nights were filled with restless dreams and waking regrets. she'd replay the moment when you had walked away, the echo of your footsteps lingering in the back of her mind. she wished she could turn back time, find the strength to stop herself from messing everything up and tell you everything. but pride, her ever-stubborn companion, held her back, whispering lies about self-preservation and protecting her heart.

but in the quiet moments before dawn, when the world was shrouded in darkness and her thoughts were the loudest, ning yizhuo would find herself on the edge of texting you, pouring her heart out in messages that would never be sent. the unsent messages piled up like unsent apologies, a mountain of words left unsaid.

until she finally had the courage to send it.

the night was silent, the city outside her window veiled in a hushed stillness. it was quiet, and yizhuo hated the quiet.

the glow of her phone screen illuminated the room as the idol’s trembling fingers typed out the words she had rehearsed in her mind a thousand times. each letter was imbued with the weight of her emotions, a testament to the love she had been too afraid to express. but she deleted it. she thought it was too wordy.

after what felt like an eternity, she finally settled on sending you one simple message, that held the weight of a lifetime of emotion and honesty. not because she was this desperate, but because she knew you’d understand the emotion she was conveying.

especially since the message consisted of two words she had never spoken to you before.

i’m sorry.

with a deep breath, she pressed the send button, and in that moment, it felt like the entire world held its breath with her.

for what felt like forever, ning stared at her phone, her heart pounding in her chest. doubt gnawed at the edges of her resolve. had she been too impulsive? too vulnerable? would you even care?

hours passed and there was still no response from you. the young idol was exhausted, tired of staring at her screen all night waiting for any type of response from you. aespa had a festival performance later that day as well, and going on stage without a wink of sleep was not going to be fun at all for her.

the sun slowly rose into the sky, and with its ascent came the knocks of her manager banging on her door. it was time to start the day, regardless of how she felt. she was an idol, and she had a job to do.

as she got ready for the festival performance, the weight of her exhaustion hung on her like a leaden cloak. every movement felt sluggish, every smile she wore for the camera felt forced. behind the veteran-like stage persona was a young woman battling her own demons and once again questioning her own worth. aespa's performance approached, and yizhuo found herself standing backstage, the hum of the crowd filtering through the walls.

“hey,” giselle shouted over the noise of the crowd, placing a hand on her member’s shoulder. “are you okay?” she asked, using her free hand to fix her in-ear.

ningning turned to the rapper, her eyes doing a poor job at masking the exhaustion that had taken hold of her. a forced smile tugged at the corners of yizhuo's lips as she nodded in response to giselle's question.

“yeah, i’m fine. just didn’t sleep much.”

the japanese girl squeezed her shoulder gently and offered a comforting smile. “you’ll do fine. don’t worry.”

yizhuo didn’t have time to reply before their managers gave them the green light to head up on stage. she followed the familiar routine – the countdown, the synchronized movements, the positioning. to be honest, she could do it all in her sleep at this point in her career.

the adrenaline of the stage, the energy of the fans, should have invigorated her, but all she felt was a gnawing emptiness.

as the music started, she stepped onto the stage, her movements automatic, her smile practiced. the choreography, usually a second nature to her, felt like an intricate puzzle she couldn't solve. the eyes of her fans, filled with adoration, couldn't fill the void left by your absence.

the performance ended, the applause thundering in her ears, but the emptiness persisted. she bowed, acknowledging the crowd, but her mind was elsewhere. she longed for your familiar eyes in the sea of people.

ning felt her knees buckle when she saw you standing backstage. her vision tunneled in on you, her breathing shallow and shaky as she saw you leaning against the wall. you seemed to be looking for someone, your eyes wandering from person to person.

“y/n?” her voice wavered slightly as your eyes met hers. a small smile tugged on your lips as you answered the idol. “yizhuo.”

she was speechless, stuttering and trying to get the right words to say. a faint flush of red on her cheeks formed as she refused to look away from you.

“i look a mess right now,” ning chuckled sheepishly, mentally cursing herself for being so awkward. she was a stuttering ball of nerves running on zero food or sleep. a mess was an understatement. “sorry, i’m all over the place.” you looked at her dead in her eyes, flashing the softest smile she had ever seen from you, or anyone.

“you look beautiful, ning.”

the chinese girl swore her heart stopped beating at your words. she had heard those words before from one night stands and midnight lovers, laced under lust and stardom. she had a list of people who would say anything just to get at her, but she never believed anything they said.

those words had been empty promises whispered by strangers who vanished like smoke at the first light of dawn. they were words that had lost their meaning in the labyrinth of insincerity that often surrounded her.

but to hear it from you? it felt entirely different.

there was a burning sensation in her chest. she felt like she was going to scream. she could feel herself about to cry. but above all else, she felt something she never thought she could ever feel.

for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, ning yizhuo felt loved.

however the idol didn’t have enough time to pull herself together and give you a reply.

“there you are,” giselle jogged over and planted a soft kiss on your temple. “i was looking for you.”

just as quickly as her heart had fluttered just seconds ago, it shattered the moment her member kissed your face.

her heart sank deeper, the confusion in her doe-like eyes evolving into a mixture of disappointment and pain. she nodded slowly, trying to mask the hurt behind a polite smile, but her eyes betrayed the turmoil within. the air grew heavy with unspoken tension, a silent battle between her emotions and the facade she was desperately trying to maintain.

“you…you know aeri?” ning asked slowly, confusion and hurt swirling her doe-eyes. the rapper answered for you, nodding rapidly as she wrapped an arm around your waist. seemingly oblivious to the tension hanging in the air, the japanese girl responded with an easy grin, her arm around your waist tightening slightly.

“oh i’ve known y/n/n for years,” she turned and gave you a soft smile before returning her gaze to the chinese girl. “i didn’t know you two knew each other.” giselle lied casually, looking between you and the vocalist with a small smile.

and to put the nail in the coffin for her, the rapper’s next comment shattered the remains of her glass heart. ning yizhuo's world seemed to crumble around her at the words leaving her member’s mouth.

“my girlfriend knows my bandmate. what a small word, huh?”

#ningning #ning yizhuo #ningning x reader #aespa x reader #aespa #aespa fic #kpop fic #karina #winter #giselle #gxg #wlw #kpop #groupie love #perfectsunlight

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prettyontheinside-grrrl · 4 months

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#brooklyn baby #lana del rey #rock n roll #west coast #groupie love #lust for life #ultraviolence #gods and monsters #americana #america #jim morrison #the doors #nikki sixx #tommy lee #motley crue #hells angels #classic rock #cruel world #Spotify

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30-3am · 10 months

Text

G R O U P I E • L O V E

✰ James Hetfield ✰

part ten of ten

groupie love contents

warnings: angst, drug use

word count: 3.2k

˚ · • . °

Chapter Ten - For Her

She hadn’t ever been a smart woman. She could never understand the math problems they gave her in class, could never understand what they were talking about in physics or chemistry. She was always the one sat with a strained look on her face and tears lining her eyes, wishing she could just grow up and understand like the rest of them. She wasn’t ever terrible or a cause for concern but she wasn’t anything special. Merely mediocre.

She’d come home with a C: a shout from her mother, a hug from her dad for trying her best and that would be it.

Her dad had always been the one to comfort her, to tell her that he didn’t mind if her grades were low because his were never perfect either. He’d just call her “his princess” and go get her ice cream. Until she was 16 and he wasn’t there to do that anymore.

She wasn’t sure if she hated her father. She didn’t know if she could ever hate him. But the pain she felt when he’d left, a sad look on his face and a “sorry, princess” falling from his lips was unlike any other.

“I have to get away.” He’d said. “I can’t take you, princess. I’m so sorry. I’ll always love you.”

She’d been searching for him since - the love he’d given her.

She found it in James.

And just like all those years ago, it had been taken from her.

Painfully and unbearably.

“I’ll see when the next flights are.” That was the only promise he’d managed to keep.

She’d packed hastily after that, shoving things into her bag - the same bag she’d packed everything in when she was escaping her mother, the person she hated most. A person she would inevitably have to go back to because of him and his inability to maintain a good thing.

They could’ve been something, she was certain of that. What a fucking waste.

The only contact he’d had with her since the balcony was the awkward exchange they shared in the hallway when he’d told her that the next flight was in two days.

It had hit her then and she forced herself not to cry in front of him, however overpowering the urge was. She’d cried when daddy had left and she had learnt since then that to cry would be to show weakness.

If she could thank James for anything it would be that he had helped her see that she was not weak. Nor was she piteous.

She said no to him, right? That was progress enough for her. She was able to say no. After years of wanting to please, of placing herself in situations both awkward and dangerous for the benefit of others, she finally was able to say no. She allowed herself that victory, however small it may seem.

No: a powerful two-letter word.

˚ · • . °

He felt sick to his stomach. Nausea covered him and he was unable to wash it off.

He’d tried everything he knew - the drink, a fight, another woman. That was the most painful of all. He’d acquired a nasty black eye (thanks to the man he’d left bleeding outside the bar) and yet, when he lay next to someone that wasn’t her, it was a fatal shot: a stab to the heart, a bullet to the head. It killed him and he continually feared that no one would compare to her, that if he let her go he would never find the same feeling again - the euphoria. The high.

Addiction had never led to anything good, he knew that all too well. So, he’d have to leave her behind if he wanted to be sober. She was his unfortunate drug. A nicotine addict has to get rid of cigarettes to stop being addicted. A coke addict wants the coke like they need to breathe but to get better they have to get rid of the blow. To stop his obsession with her, he has to get rid of her.

And it made him sick.

He hadn’t run after her when she’d left the balcony, however much he’d wanted to because he wasn’t strong enough. He’d heard the slam of the door, jumped as it clicked shut and began to cry.

He hadn’t allowed himself to cry, really cry, in a long time. And their parting seemed a perfect reason to sob until he was choking and begging to die. So, he did. He sat, in that shitty garden chair and cried till his eyes were sore and his head throbbed.

It had been two days since then.

He probably should’ve gone to her, should’ve told her that he was really fucking sorry, but he hadn’t. He hadn’t built up the courage to do such a thing. All he was left with was nausea and aches that had sent him hurtling headfirst into a pit so deep he wasn’t sure he could claw himself out this time.

She hadn’t come to him either like he’d hoped she had.

And it was time. Two agonizing days had passed and he’d told her that the flight was at 7:00 pm. It was currently 4:00 and she’d have to be leaving soon.

“You want some.” Her voice made him cringe, made his whole body seize up. He regretted her deeply.

“No.” He said plainly as he gazed at the lines of white powder she’d created on the bedside table.

“Suit yourself.” She snorted loudly then exhaled and giggled.

Another mistake he’d have to live with.

He averted his gaze to the clock, staring at its face, the different lengths of its hands. 4:07.

Move James. His mind begged. Fucking move before she’s gone.

His head pounded roughly, fingernails scratching at his skull and screaming in his ears. And Valerie (at least he thought that’s what her name was) snorted again, so obnoxiously and so loud that he couldn’t handle it anymore.

He was on his feet before he could think and was grabbing at his clothes, hastily putting them on.

If she was gone, he’d never forgive himself.

“Where ya going?”

“Out.”

“Yeah, no shit, but where exactly?”

“It doesn’t fucking concern you.” He snapped.

“You’re no fun, you know that?”

“Yeah, and you’re a junkie cunt.”

He didn’t register her protests, the names she was screaming at him, his only focus was her. He missed her lips, her voice, the way it always went up an octave when she started talking about something she liked. He missed the widening of her eyes when he said something a little too dirty too casually and the flush of her cheeks that followed. He missed her little idiosyncrasies, her bad habits he’d picked up on from staring and studying her for too long.

She didn’t laugh as often as he should’ve made her, but he missed that too. She’d cover her mouth with her hand and tears would collect in the corners of her eyes and the sweetness of her laughter was parallel to the sound emanating from heaven's door.

He missed her completely. He missed her wholely.

He was striding down the corridor, looking entirely unlike himself. His hair was dishevelled, the dark bags under his eyes displaying the insomnia he’d been experiencing. His skin was pasty and the bruise on his face made him even more unapproachable. He’d lost it without her. Well and truly lost it. It was pathetic really but he’d accepted at this point that he was nothing without the constant love and attention from others. From her specifically.

He could see the door to her room from where she stood and the outline of a housekeeper carrying sheets to the laundry basket outside.

Fuck.

He stood frozen for a moment and he could’ve sworn he was going to pass out any minute. But reality smacked him in the face sooner than he expected it to and he turned on his heel and ran towards the elevator. He pressed desperately at the down button, unrelenting in the movement of his index finger until his passage to her finally arrived and he transferred his actions to the ground floor button instead.

“C’mon.” He groaned, aggressively pounding at the button. “Fucking come on.” He wasn’t sure what he was trying to achieve but he grew maddened at the thought of her leaving without the chance of a goodbye.

When the doors finally opened again he almost sobbed in relief, stepping out of the elevator and looking left, then right, then left again.

He kept striding around the reception area, hoping to find her and her pouty little lips.

“Are you okay, sir?” He glanced once at the lady behind the desk before waving a hand and dismissing her.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Are you looking for someone?”

Yes. Yes, he was and he needed to find her as soon as possible.

“Yeah,” he walked up to the reception desk and placed his hands on the top of the veneer. “Yeah, I’m looking for this girl. She should’ve checked out not long ago.” He began to describe her to the woman.

The lady just smiled and nodded her head, eyes showing nothing but concern and perhaps a little fear.

Then, she pointed.

“Just out there. I think that’s her.” He followed the direction of her index finger and swallowed hard.

He had been desperate to find her, ravenous for it, but now that he’d completed his mission, he wasn’t sure how to continue.

He didn’t take his eyes off the back of her head. A single pane of glass separated the two of them and he felt his chest constrict and his throat close.

“Is she not the one you were looking for?” He managed to peel his eyes away for just a moment to glance at the receptionist.

“No…” he shook his head and tried to collect his thoughts, thinking about what he said before he said it. “No, she is, that’s- that’s her.”

It had always been her.

“Glad I could help.”

His eyes are back on her again as he mutters a thank you and takes shaky steps towards the exit.

Each click of his boot echoed in his head, taking him closer to her. Each short breath he emitted reminded him that it was almost time.

Until he was there and the reality was too strong to cope with.

His hand gripped the cool metal of the door and he pulled it open. She glanced briefly upwards at the sound and the look she gave him when their eyes met was close to unbearable. He felt like he was being torn apart by a pack of rabid dogs, each limb being ripped from his body.

He continued to advance, attempting to stop his legs from shaking.

She was sat just outside the hotel, her luggage seated next to her on the bench. She moved it to the floor as he got closer.

“Hi.” She was the first to speak.

“Hey.”

She looked at him softly, almost sympathetic and it made the food in his stomach churn.

“What happened to your face?”

She’d moved her bags out of the way so he could sit but he didn’t have the heart to accept the offer.

“Nothing.” He hated the soft lilt of her voice, the genuine concern laced between the sickening sweetness. So he dismissed her - the way he’d always done before. “Just a fight. Wasn’t anything big.”

“Well…” She smiled softly. He hated it. “I’m glad you came.” It was genuine. She hadn’t ever been a very good liar - he could always tell when she was being truthful and this was one of those times.

He didn’t know how to respond so he just nodded.

She laughed softly and it broke something inside him; he knew it couldn’t ever be fixed.

“You know, I never really saw this ending.” She smiled up at him, full lips stretched across her face. “I knew it would but I could never picture it.”

Shut up. It’s hard enough already.

She sighs contentedly and looks at the sky. She was uncharacteristically casual about the situation and it scared him because he saw himself in the blacks of her eyes. He reflected her, mirrored her. And after all the time he’d spent with her, he realised how much he’d corrupted her. She would leave but he would still be everywhere, crawling underneath her skin.

It took everything in him not to throw up.

“You know my dad always used to say that nothing lasts forever.” He stilled in his position, jaw clenching and eyes involuntarily widening. She hadn’t ever mentioned her dad before. She was always giving herself to him, even during the most profound of situations.

There was a smile on her face as she recalled him.

“He said that he thought it was unfair that humans are given things to look after, things to love and then they’re just…taken away. They don’t last forever. Nothing does.” She turns away from the sky to look into his eyes - absorbing him.

“But he’d always say that that was a part of life. That it’s something we should embrace because if we don’t, where would we be?” Her gaze is intense, piercing him with feelings so cold, the sun beating down on his back was not enough to warm him back up. “I’ve managed to do a lot of thinking without you around to distract me.” He couldn’t look at her anymore and his eyes were on his feet within seconds, staring at the tops of his boots - the cracks in the concrete.

“I don’t think you’re perfect, nobody is. But I think you’re decent. Decent enough to feel sickeningly guilty about this whole situation.”

He pushed away the lump in his throat and blinked at his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut before opening them again. When he did, another pair of shoes were in his eye line and he trailed his gaze upwards to her. She was smiling.

“I’m willing to forgive you.” Her gaze was on his bruised eye and he fluttered his eyes shut as she dragged a finger along the injury. “I still think you’re beautiful. Even with this.” She continued to trace circles onto the skin and a tear slipped past his unsullied eye. “I think you’re beautiful even with everything you think is ugly.”

He opened his eyes again, desperate for the feel of her, for the wire that stuck to the both of them and connected in the middle, holding them in place. He wasn’t willing to cut it just yet.

He pressed his forehead against hers, holding her by the back of her neck.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed in her scent, her aura, her being.

How to leave behind something so perfect and damaging?

“Too late for that now.” There was no malice to her tone, only understanding. “Nothing lasts forever right? And like you said this is what's best.” She stroked his cheeks, not attempting to break away. “I gave you a chance and I don’t exactly wanna leave but…you need to get yourself sorted out.”

“I know.” “And I know you know.”

He wished he could go back to when he first met her, to do things differently, to actually get to know her as he told her he wanted to. Either that or warn her to stay the fuck away.

“It’ll hurt for a bit.” She continued to stroke the skin of his face, the softness of her hands grounding him in the moment. “It already hurts me, but, it’ll get better after a while. You’ll get back to yourself, everyone always does.”

He didn’t believe her. But he didn’t know how to verbalise that thought. The words were caught in the back of his throat and he didn’t have the heart to say them.

“I know.”

His heart cracked when she pulled away from him and he was cold all over. She’d always balanced him out and made him feel stable. Now she was going. His fault.

A car pulled up to the curb behind him and he didn’t dare look at it; the transporter of his heart.

She was pulling her bag over her shoulder, brushing her hair away from her face. Then, she reached into her pocket, rustling around before acquiring a small strip of paper.

She handed it to him.

“If you ever figure things out in that head of yours, call me. It’s the number for my mom’s house but just ask for me and I’ll get there if I can.”

“You’re going back to her?” He takes the paper from her hands and holds it tight in his fist. It’s the last bit of her he had left to cherish and fuck would he cherish it with everything he had.

“Yeah.” She shrugs. “But It’s not so bad anymore.” Her lips stretch into a smile, her eyes bright and full of adoration. “I’ve learnt a lot from you.”

They both laugh this time, James unable to stop himself.

Then the laughter dissipates and they’re left with the lingering stench of goodbye.

“Well…” she gestures behind him. “This is me.”

He steps aside so she can get by, doing everything he possibly can to stop the threat of tears.

“Thanks for getting me the flight by the way.”

He nods softly as she opens the door and throws her bag on the seat.

“No problem.”

Their eyes catch as she stays put in the door and he thinks, for a stupidly irrational moment, that maybe she’s staying. But she just shakes her head and clambers into the seat, reaching for the seatbelt and strapping herself in.

He wants to say something hopeful, a sentiment of appreciation, of love, of enjoyment for her but he comes up empty.

And he grips the car door, forcing it to stay open as he holds his breath, thinking of what to say. Only three words form on his tongue and they tumble from his lips in one whisper.

“I love you.”

She smiles - a beat of silence.

“I know.”

She grips the handle of the door and slams it shut behind her, completely locking him away.

When the engine comes to life and when the wheels begin to roll over the concrete, he allows himself a second to cry - to contemplate.

Denial laced his bones and poisoned his mind with the hope that when he got back to the hotel room, she would be there and waiting. She would be there, arms outstretched for him to crawl into and cry whilst she comforted him.

He always used to appreciate his realism, but, as he sat down on the bench she occupied minutes before him, he cursed its plague.

She was not coming back.

Not soon anyway.

He uncurled his fist to find the single piece of paper she’d gifted him. He brushed out the creases with the pad of his finger and gazed at the numbers.

“If you ever figure things out in that head of yours, call me.”

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to figure things out, if he would ever be able to understand his actions and his intentions. But the mere prospect of seeing her smile again, seeing her eyes that had bewitched him, body and soul, was enough for him to try.

To at least try.

If not for himself, then for her and the promise that he would see her again.

˚ · • . °

A/N: this ending was very reminiscent of unrequited but like...deal with it. maybe i'm just unoriginal 🤗 i'm sorry, i'm trying to joke cause i'm really sad this is over and i don't even know if i like the ending and life is just so sad why do i do this shit? either way, thank you, for everything with this fic. it's taken me a long time to get to this place and i'm very grateful for the kind comments as they're the things that really do keep my writing going. i am very grateful.

if you're sad about the ending...do not worry. i've got more coming. shameless plug of barefoot which is gonna be the most whirlwindy fucking shit you've ever read. with a good ending this time so don't complain.

anyways, thank you. i love you all sm. the support you've given me is actually insane and i can't thank you enough.

love ya,

alana.

#james hetfield #metallica #groupie love #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica smut #metallica x reader #metallica fanfiction #james hetfield x oc

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