Thanks to this lame ass security, I'm going home

Gem ❅ 24 ❅ Wanna be author/student ❅ Guns n Roses fanfic writer ❅ Requests are closed (but send me a chat)! ❅ Masterlist ❅icon by rockinicons

[petals-and-bullets]

MASTERLIST

This is the current masterlist for all the works I’ve written; while it is small, requests are open, so please feel free to request anything your heart desires! Updated 24/02/2023

🥝 = NSFW! 18+ only please!

Guns n Roses

Duzzy

🥝 Minor Infatuation (NSFW) Izzy was meant to play without fault. But the night before distracted him to the point of concern at the behest of another member.

Decisions  Izzy makes a decision that changes not only his life, but Duff’s life, as well as the band’s integrity.

Izzaxl 

Fireball Loving Axl Rose is like reaching into a fire and grasping the coals. Sometimes it burns, but sometimes it warms the heart like no other. (Written for my dearest friend Adam, who requested an Izzaxl oneshot simply to do with the word fire.)

Sluff

Medusa and Coffee Heavily inspired by @herewegoagainniall‘s post demanding more Duff coffee-shop AUs. Duff has managed to get a crush on the curly haired man who always came into the shop every morning. Desperate to get his attention, he resorts to writing pickup lines on his takeout cup.

x Reader

IZZY

Cats and Books Inspired by this moodboard; the bookstore’s new owner had yet to show his face - so you make the decision to go and introduce yourself. 

🥝 Patience Requested by Anon! NSFW (unprotected sex) - you wore a shirt that wore Izzy’s patience down thin - and he most certainly wasn’t patient enough to get home.

Clan Anon Request! I was wondering if you could do something where the reader is Duff’s older cousin(she’s around Axl and Izzy’s age).. she’s a doctor and comes and see her baby cousin duff, the boys are over Izzy falls in love. Duff sees that and gets overprotective even though she’s older. Thank you ❤️

Clan Pt II  Request from @junkiemuppettxx! 'Can u do a part2 to clan it was really good xx' Your engagement to Izzy was a relatively well-kept secret. At least, until a fateful phone call changed that.

🥝 Names Anon Request! ‘Hi could you please write a fic about with Izzy Stradlin and whenever he and the reader have sex she will sometimes subconsciously switch to moaning Jeff instead of Izzy and it really turns him on even though the reader has not clue she does it so Izzy brings it up one night and idk what the ending would be 😂 surprise me! Also sorry if this was confusing 😂 ‘

🥝 Insecurities  Anon request! ‘Hello if you have time could you please write a smut and fluff fic with Izzy where Izzy is feeling really self conscious like maybe he doesn’t like his nose or his appearance and he doesn’t think he’s good enough for the reader but she reassures him that he’s perfect 💕 ‘

Intimacy  Anon request! ‘Hello! I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if you have time could you please write a fic where Izzy doesn’t want to have sex with the reader after she gives birth and the reader thinks it’s because he doesn’t like her body anymore and he thinks she’s ugly but the real reason is Izzy is scared of accidentally hurting her and he doesn’t think that she want to have sex yet and it’s a big misunderstanding but it ends with fluff please 😊💕’

🥝 Ties  You never had any preferences regarding clothes or clothing styles. Jeans, t-shirts, blouses, anything. It didn’t matter to you; they were just necessary pieces of clothing. Well, you say that, but there was one thing that really ground your gears and had your heart rate rise – suits.

One More  Anon request! ‘hello, could you do an older!izzy?? that’s only if you’re still doing requests! x’ He always told himself he didn’t need to see you again, and yet you still haunted him. So he always resolved to taking one more hit of you.

Monarch  Partner fic to this moodboard! King Jeffrey was the Tyrant King. He had no claim to the throne aside from his desire to own what was coveted by many others - and alongside it came with the desire for blood. A summons certainly meant death; or so it was believed.

Mr Jewel  A fic to be paired with this moodboard! Mr Jewel was like the Boogeyman – the story parents would tell their kids when they were misbehaving to convince them to stop acting up. Only this time, Mr Jewel was the story the cops would tell the criminals – or rather, what the employees would tell the businessmen so they’d start paying them decently, or something. A series I most likely will start, but never pick up again. Warning: Includes references to gun violence and death.

Plenty of Ways  request by @blackberryblossom! 'could you do something where reader comes out to izzy as bi and thinks he’ll break up with her but he doesn’t?' There were plenty of ways for one to come out - nowadays at least. You’d seen it all; really awful puns, cakes, cards, or just outright saying it.

DUFF

Mondays Partner fic to this moodboard. Mondays sucked; the weather always sucked, you had a hands-on boss who sucked, and you just wanted a cup of coffee. But even that seemed to suck, too.

Fits Like A Glove  An early Christmas gift for a dear friend. “Hey! So, here’s the thing. I’m looking for something punk, yeah? Not too punk, else Axl’ll go off it like a god knows what because he says that’s not what Guns is, but I’m looking for something that suits me, y’know?” And you knew immediately what he needed.

Anniversaries  Your five year anniversary was always something you looked forward to - and one that Duff seemed to have planned, since he brought to to a high end restaurant. Of course, nothing ever went to plan.

STEVEN

Sundaes Partner fic to this moodboard. Steven liked working in the store. He got to make people smile, had free ice cream as much as he could eat, and he got to see you almost every day. So he tried to catch your attention with new sundae creations.

SLASH

Eccentric Partner fic to this moodboard! When it came to owning pets, you were… Eccentric. You supposed that it was lucky that a reptile veterinarian lived next door when your iguana seemed less than healthy.

🥝  Honey, I’m Home anon request! "hi, if you want and have time could you please write something with slash x reader where he comes back from use your illusion tour and mostly fluff and smut?" Despite being a corny line, Slash enjoyed using it. The groans of exasperation that came from you in response to him saying the age-old line always made him grin cockily, his chest swelling with pride at the fact he had managed to frustrate you just by saying a phrase that was far too cliché.

AXL

Oscar Wilde Partner fic to this moodboard! Axl was what people considered to be a modern-day Oscar Wilde. He wasn’t just a modern-day Oscar Wilde, but he was your Oscar Wilde, who kept his heart on his sleeve and wrote love letters to you every time you were apart.

Toxicity requested by @alexxandrap1739 (I can't seem to tag you, sorry!) “I was wondering if you could write one where Axl and the reader have a toxic relationship? He has bipolar problems and jealousy, and the reader wants to be with him, even though everyone recommends her to leave him.” Note: I do not condone toxic relationships nor do I condone any form of abusive behaviour that may be presented in this fic. This relationship presented is a very basic representation that does not fully reflect the dangers of a toxic relationship, nor how convoluted they can get.

Axl x OC

Fruit Salad  Parties aren’t ideal for girls like her. They’re more ideal for the men her brother spent his time with - at least, she thought so, until an old childhood friend forced her to meet his bandmate. A bit of an experiment, if you will! If people like this enough, I’ll create somewhat of a series from it, so any comments at all are wholly welcome!!

Pirouettes  Sequel to Fruit Salad! Axl Rose was the most cockiest man Veronica had ever met. They had friendly competition, sure, but when he claimed he would be able to be a better ballerina than her, she was unable to deny herself the chance to prove him wrong.

Skid Row

x Reader

Loopholes You and Rachel were lucky to have just a moment to yourselves - or so you thought, until you figured out a loophole in his routine that meant he had to spend more time with you, much to his delight. (Anon Request!)

SERIES

Spirits;

Masterpost

MOODBOARDS

Guns N Roses

Good Morning Kisses; a series dedicated to waking up with the boys

Izzy Axl Slash Duff Steven

Alternate Professions; a series dedicated to the question of ‘what if Guns didn’t exist?’

Izzy Duff Steven Slash Axl

Mythology; A series dedicated to who would be what mythological creature

Duff Izzy Steven Slash Axl

Fairytales; A series dedicated to whose who in the fairytales.

Duff Slash Axl

Tudor Guns Series; A series dedicated to roles in a medieval court.

Izzy

Skid Row

Request; Alternate Profession Sebastian Bach

[petals-and-bullets]

Clan III

Pairing: Izzy x Reader

Word Count: 1284

Info: Request from @julessworldd! "Would you ever consider writing a part 3 to the one fic where the reader is Duffs older cousin, who is a doctor. Her and Izzy are engaged and planning on marrying very soon? Pt 2 was a cliff hanger and I’m curious to see if Duff puts things a side and goes to be a witness at the courthouse. Hope you have been good 💓"

The plane tickets were easy enough to purchase, and the plane itself was easy enough to board. Rather, you just had to sit back and enjoy the 9-hour flight that took you across the Atlantic ocean to land firmly on the soil that your dearest fiancé was residing on.

As well as your cousin.

You hadn’t heard from Duff after the revelation that you had been engaged to his bandmate escaped – and not exactly in the way you had wanted. His words before he had passed you the phone hurt more than you anticipated, with the defeated tone that had seeped through his words, and you knew that you had fucked up. Royally.

Duff was less like a cousin than he was a brother, and you knew that you were unlikely to make up for the damages you had unwittingly caused; you could only hope that Izzy, in some bizarre way of his, had managed to convince him it wasn’t an intended slight against him. After all, nobody knew that you had been engaged, having carefully hidden your ring whenever you were around company. It was amusing, really, the way you and Izzy had thought you could share the secret between yourselves, but it had come at a greater expense than either of you were willing to pay.

You glanced up from your book, some paper written by some doctor in Germany arguing for the benefits of some new surgery, at the sound of the ding from the seatbelt light. Packing your minimal belongings into the small carry-on you had, you clicked your seatbelt into place and sat back, watching as the rolling fields of England came into view as the plane descended from the sky. Disembarking the plane and getting through security was a blur, and you found yourself enveloped in a pair of arms that held you to a chest that smelt faintly of mixed spice, cigarettes and just something that was distinctly Jeffrey Isbell.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he said softly into your hair, winding his arms further around you, as though he were afraid that if he let go, you would vanish into thin air. It was also a subtle way to ensure you were blocked from any prying eyes of the paparazzi, and he lifted his head to gaze down at your tired face, his lips curling into that beautifully crooked grin that you loved so much. You reached up and cupped his cheeks before you brought his head down to meet your lips, the kiss tender and soft.

“Hey yourself,” you responded, just as soft, and you pulled back to look over your shoulder at the crowds that were slowly beginning to form; news had obviously gotten out that there was a celebrity present in the airport, yet you doubted that they had quite realised who it was they were here for. Izzy always joked that he was the forgettable one, the one who hid in the shadows and observed everything – although he certainly wasn’t a saint. How the hell he was even allowed into an airport after the incident, you had no clue. The boys had found it hilarious, dubbing him ‘Whizzy’, which made you roll your eyes every time you heard it.

“We ought to get going. Don’t want to get mobbed by a crowd if I can help it.”

Izzy firmly planted his hand at the small of your back and guided you quickly through the airport, ducking his head at just the right times to avoid being recognised – though the amusement of watching him do so quickly wore thin. It was too much like being at a McKagan family gathering, trying to avoid the prying eyes of any nosy relatives that wanted to comment on whatever downfalls they could find. The thoughts distracted you enough to the point where you hadn’t even realised where you were going until you found yourself outside of a sleek black car, the make you couldn’t determine. It was very much like your fiancé – stripped down to its bare bones, with no distinguishing features on show. You shot him a brief look before you climbed into the back, and he slid in quickly after you, sinking back into his seat with a small sigh.

“You look exhausted.”

“So do you.”

The pair of you looked at each other, sitting in the comfortable silence that always enveloped you both, before he reached out and brushed your hair from your face, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip gently in thought.

“I got us booked in a registration office. Took a lot of doing, mind. But we’re booked. Ready for tonight.”

“Tonight? Izzy, I don’t even look remotely ready to get married-“

“Sunshine, I don’t care about that. We can get a proper ceremony, or whatever when we get home, whatever you’d like. But I just wanna get hitched as soon as I can to you.”

You watched him, your lower lip caught in your teeth as you thought. It had always been in the cards, you supposed, to get married as soon as the plane touched the ground. At least he hadn’t dragged an officiant to the airport to marry the pair of you as soon as you stepped through security, though you wouldn’t put it past him to try.

“Alright, fine. Tonight. But you’re not disturbing me while I get ready.”

His mouth opened and closed as he tried to think of some excuse to join you, before he fell quiet.

“Okay.”

The hours flew by faster than you had anticipated, and you found yourself sitting in that same indistinguishable car with your soon-to-be husband sat beside you, your hands clasped together tightly. He’d mentioned wanting to get there early, to give you a wedding gift, despite your protests that you hadn’t gotten him anything. He’d waved your concerns off.

Once you arrived, the heavens opened and rain fell from the sky, prompting those caught on the street to lift umbrellas to protect themselves, blocking your view of the registry steps, though you could’ve sworn that you had seen someone who looked just like Duff. You looked at Izzy and gave a wan smile, feeling the pit in your heart grow even larger at the thought you were getting married without the man you’d practically grown up with by your side to observe. As though he sensed your hesitation, he kissed your knuckles and pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Just wait. You’ll see.”

He guided you out of the car and you both rushed up the steps, your eyes searching desperately for the familiar face. You let Izzy handle the paperwork, craning your neck in an attempt to get a glimpse of Duff, and your shoulders sagged as you acknowledged that he wasn’t coming. The rift that you had created had gotten too large, and there was no way for you to repair it. Not in time for him to see you get married. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth as Izzy guided you through the building and to the small room in the back that would host your miniscule wedding, only to wink and push open the doors.

You looked up, your eyes making direct contact with Duff’s.

Who was stood behind the officiant’s lectern.

And then it dawned on you; Izzy’s wedding gift, the thing he had been so insistent on, was that Duff had agreed to officiate your wedding for you, in the grandest display of an apology that could probably have beaten Axl riding a white horse to apologise to whichever girlfriend he had upset.

You smiled and stepped into the room, prepared to go from Dr McKagan, to Dr Isbell.

[petals-and-bullets]

Clan III

Pairing: Izzy x Reader

Word Count: 1284

Info: Request from @julessworldd! "Would you ever consider writing a part 3 to the one fic where the reader is Duffs older cousin, who is a doctor. Her and Izzy are engaged and planning on marrying very soon? Pt 2 was a cliff hanger and I’m curious to see if Duff puts things a side and goes to be a witness at the courthouse. Hope you have been good 💓"

The plane tickets were easy enough to purchase, and the plane itself was easy enough to board. Rather, you just had to sit back and enjoy the 9-hour flight that took you across the Atlantic ocean to land firmly on the soil that your dearest fiancé was residing on.

As well as your cousin.

You hadn’t heard from Duff after the revelation that you had been engaged to his bandmate escaped – and not exactly in the way you had wanted. His words before he had passed you the phone hurt more than you anticipated, with the defeated tone that had seeped through his words, and you knew that you had fucked up. Royally.

Duff was less like a cousin than he was a brother, and you knew that you were unlikely to make up for the damages you had unwittingly caused; you could only hope that Izzy, in some bizarre way of his, had managed to convince him it wasn’t an intended slight against him. After all, nobody knew that you had been engaged, having carefully hidden your ring whenever you were around company. It was amusing, really, the way you and Izzy had thought you could share the secret between yourselves, but it had come at a greater expense than either of you were willing to pay.

You glanced up from your book, some paper written by some doctor in Germany arguing for the benefits of some new surgery, at the sound of the ding from the seatbelt light. Packing your minimal belongings into the small carry-on you had, you clicked your seatbelt into place and sat back, watching as the rolling fields of England came into view as the plane descended from the sky. Disembarking the plane and getting through security was a blur, and you found yourself enveloped in a pair of arms that held you to a chest that smelt faintly of mixed spice, cigarettes and just something that was distinctly Jeffrey Isbell.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he said softly into your hair, winding his arms further around you, as though he were afraid that if he let go, you would vanish into thin air. It was also a subtle way to ensure you were blocked from any prying eyes of the paparazzi, and he lifted his head to gaze down at your tired face, his lips curling into that beautifully crooked grin that you loved so much. You reached up and cupped his cheeks before you brought his head down to meet your lips, the kiss tender and soft.

“Hey yourself,” you responded, just as soft, and you pulled back to look over your shoulder at the crowds that were slowly beginning to form; news had obviously gotten out that there was a celebrity present in the airport, yet you doubted that they had quite realised who it was they were here for. Izzy always joked that he was the forgettable one, the one who hid in the shadows and observed everything – although he certainly wasn’t a saint. How the hell he was even allowed into an airport after the incident, you had no clue. The boys had found it hilarious, dubbing him ‘Whizzy’, which made you roll your eyes every time you heard it.

“We ought to get going. Don’t want to get mobbed by a crowd if I can help it.”

Izzy firmly planted his hand at the small of your back and guided you quickly through the airport, ducking his head at just the right times to avoid being recognised – though the amusement of watching him do so quickly wore thin. It was too much like being at a McKagan family gathering, trying to avoid the prying eyes of any nosy relatives that wanted to comment on whatever downfalls they could find. The thoughts distracted you enough to the point where you hadn’t even realised where you were going until you found yourself outside of a sleek black car, the make you couldn’t determine. It was very much like your fiancé – stripped down to its bare bones, with no distinguishing features on show. You shot him a brief look before you climbed into the back, and he slid in quickly after you, sinking back into his seat with a small sigh.

“You look exhausted.”

“So do you.”

The pair of you looked at each other, sitting in the comfortable silence that always enveloped you both, before he reached out and brushed your hair from your face, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip gently in thought.

“I got us booked in a registration office. Took a lot of doing, mind. But we’re booked. Ready for tonight.”

“Tonight? Izzy, I don’t even look remotely ready to get married-“

“Sunshine, I don’t care about that. We can get a proper ceremony, or whatever when we get home, whatever you’d like. But I just wanna get hitched as soon as I can to you.”

You watched him, your lower lip caught in your teeth as you thought. It had always been in the cards, you supposed, to get married as soon as the plane touched the ground. At least he hadn’t dragged an officiant to the airport to marry the pair of you as soon as you stepped through security, though you wouldn’t put it past him to try.

“Alright, fine. Tonight. But you’re not disturbing me while I get ready.”

His mouth opened and closed as he tried to think of some excuse to join you, before he fell quiet.

“Okay.”

The hours flew by faster than you had anticipated, and you found yourself sitting in that same indistinguishable car with your soon-to-be husband sat beside you, your hands clasped together tightly. He’d mentioned wanting to get there early, to give you a wedding gift, despite your protests that you hadn’t gotten him anything. He’d waved your concerns off.

Once you arrived, the heavens opened and rain fell from the sky, prompting those caught on the street to lift umbrellas to protect themselves, blocking your view of the registry steps, though you could’ve sworn that you had seen someone who looked just like Duff. You looked at Izzy and gave a wan smile, feeling the pit in your heart grow even larger at the thought you were getting married without the man you’d practically grown up with by your side to observe. As though he sensed your hesitation, he kissed your knuckles and pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Just wait. You’ll see.”

He guided you out of the car and you both rushed up the steps, your eyes searching desperately for the familiar face. You let Izzy handle the paperwork, craning your neck in an attempt to get a glimpse of Duff, and your shoulders sagged as you acknowledged that he wasn’t coming. The rift that you had created had gotten too large, and there was no way for you to repair it. Not in time for him to see you get married. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth as Izzy guided you through the building and to the small room in the back that would host your miniscule wedding, only to wink and push open the doors.

You looked up, your eyes making direct contact with Duff’s.

Who was stood behind the officiant’s lectern.

And then it dawned on you; Izzy’s wedding gift, the thing he had been so insistent on, was that Duff had agreed to officiate your wedding for you, in the grandest display of an apology that could probably have beaten Axl riding a white horse to apologise to whichever girlfriend he had upset.

You smiled and stepped into the room, prepared to go from Dr McKagan, to Dr Isbell.

[straddlingizzystradlin]

Ritz, 1991

[petals-and-bullets]

Will you do a part 2 to monarch?

Hello! I will do, at some point in the future - I’m currently in the process of trying to figure out who would suit what roles.

Monarch is meant to be based in around the Tudor period (being the 16th/very early 17th centuries), since that is the period I am most comfortable with. Unfortunately, it means there’s a lot of faff due to people getting historical facts wrong (including myself). I don’t want it to be a purely historical series, but my historian heart wants it to be accurate enough that I would enjoy writing & reading it!

[petals-and-bullets]

Mr Jewel

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Word Count: 1441

Info: Mr Jewel was like the Boogeyman – the story parents would tell their kids when they were misbehaving to convince them to stop acting up. Only this time, Mr Jewel was the story the cops would tell the criminals – or rather, what the employees would tell the businessmen so they’d start paying them decently, or something. And one fateful night, you were forced to meet the Boogeyman.

It was always raining in the city. It wasn’t exactly the nicest experience, but it mattered little to the pair of men stood in the alleyway, the only light being the lit ends of their cigarettes whenever they took a drag, sheltered under the safety of a hanging awning from the store beside them.

After a few moments, one of the men reached into his pocket and with little reaction shot his partner, watching his body crumble and collapse to the floor before he lazily flicked away the remains of his cigarettes and stuffed his pistol back into the pocket of his coat and hunched his shoulders to his ears before he adjusted his cap and walked into the night, vanishing into the shadows with little noise.

It wouldn’t be until the next morning, when the sun’s rays began to lick the pavement, that the body of one of the most influential businessmen of the city would be found.

You hated the nightshift. It was pretty much almost always cold, it was almost certainly raining, and you didn’t want to talk about the subtle rise in murder-robberies that had begun to loom over the city like a thick fog. And you refused to believe the rumours of the mysterious Mr Jewel, who had suddenly gained infamy despite being a mere story. He was like the Boogeyman – the story parents would tell their kids when they were misbehaving to convince them to stop acting up. Only this time, Mr Jewel was the story the cops would tell the criminals – or rather, what the employees would tell the businessmen so they’d start paying them decently, or something.

“See you soon, Bob,” you called out as you grabbed your coat from the shitty hook that looked like if anything heavier than the light jacket you wore would be put on it, it would fall off the wall, and probably bring the rest of the wall down with it. Bob’s Diner wasn’t the cleanest – or most maintained diner in the city – but it paid a decent wage and Bob, the overweight owner and self-proclaimed master chef, made sure you and the others under his employ were kept safe and out of bother. The man didn’t take anything for an excuse if there was trouble, and there was a long list of names who had been banned from even showing their face in the diner because they’d made one of the waiters or waitresses uncomfortable.

You smiled at the grunted goodbye before you stepped out into the cool wind, wrapping your jacket further around yourself as you began your trek down the road. A few lone cars drove past, but you didn’t pay any heed to them. Everyone had places to be or things to do, just like yourself, and yet there was something that made you slow your pace as you walked past the alley, squinting into the dark curiously. After a moment, you dared to take a few steps into the darkness, your ears taking note of every noise that echoed in between the buildings that surrounded you, though you froze at the sound of low voices. Daring to glance back at the entrance to the alley, you eventually swallowed and continued your advance forward, only to stumble a little and stop when you realised just what you had walked into.

In front of you, their faces illuminated by the lit ends of their cigarettes, were two men. One of them, his eyes glinting in the shadows as he turned to face you, raised one hand, the bracelets hanging off his wrist jangling and shining in the dim lights that barely allowed you to see the features of his face. Your gaze trailed from his dark eyes and down to his hand, where you froze with the realisation that he was aiming a gun at you. Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly like a fish, as you tried to find the words to say something, anything to him.

Without blinking, he turned and fired his gun at his companion, and you couldn’t help but shriek as ethe other man’s body crumpled and he collapsed. When you realised the other man had turned his gaze back to you, you immediately jumped back and stumbled over your own feet as you tried to think of something, anything, to say to him, if anything to save your own life. Eventually, your back hit the wall and you unconsciously looked towards the man, stifling a whimper as he stalked towards you. Gloved fingers took a hold of your chin and guided you to look at him, and your eyes widened as you realised that the stories you had heard weren’t just fake stories – they were real.

Mr Jewel was real, and he was stood right in front of you.

“Hello, darling,” he muttered, his voice surprisingly soft, before he guided you to turn your head this way and that. He quirked a brow, his lips curling into a soft smirk as he continued to investigate your face – the way your eyes widened, the way your lower lip trembled, either from fear or from the cold, he didn’t care to guess which was the answer.

“What do you want?” You shot back, your breath condensing into a puff of air that floated between you, dissipating between you before he leaned in, his own breath warming your cheeks and the bridge of your nose. The scent of cigarette smoke and coffee filled your nose, and you scrunched it slightly as your brain scrambled to remember where you had smelled it before; where you had seen that jawline for. His sunglasses, despite it being dark, hid his eyes from you, and your eyes widened in realisation when his hand rose to push them down the bridge of the distinct nose, his lips curling into a smile you knew far too well.

“Izzy?” You forced out, your eyes widening in horror as you realised that your boyfriend – the man who had previously held you close and stroked your hair and comforted you after you had a nightmare about Mr Jewel – was Mr Jewel himself. Your stomach twisted, forming tight knots as you struggled to maintain your calm as he tilted his head in acknowledgement, his hand sliding down your arm to firmly grasp your hand in his.

“The one and the same. Now, we should really be off,” he muttered, before he pulled you out of the alley and into the cold night, his steps brisk and his eyes alert, like a cat on the prowl for another creature that might impose upon its territory. Too stunned to say anything, you stumbled alongside him until he reached the low seated body of his car, opening the door for you.

“Ever the gentleman,” you muttered, before you clambered in at the warning glance he gave you. After another glance around, he walked to the driver’s side and slid in, before he calmly started the car and drove down the poorly lighted streets, one hand expertly retrieving a cigarette from his pocket before he lit it with his lighter. You watched him from your spot in the front seat, hugging your knees as you considered your next steps, before you opened your mouth.

“You know, what? No. What the fuck, Izzy?”

The only response you really got was a quirked brow, before he sighed and glanced at you, dark eyes peering over the rim of his sunglasses. That bloody look made you grit your teeth, and you crossed your arms and slumped back into your seat with a huff.

“And now you’re acting like a petulant child?” He questioned eventually, before he sighed and pulled over, before he turned to face you, resting an elbow on the steering wheel.

“I’m not acting like anything. I just want an answer on what the fuck is going on. I mean, you’re- You…” You trailed off as you finally looked at him, your anger dissipating as you regarded the man before you, licking your bottom lip.

“Well, you’re smart. You can put two and two together; you figured out who I am.”

“I’m very well aware of that. But I want to know why. Or how.”

“How?”

“Yes, how. How the hell you hid,” you motioned to him, “this from me.”

He sighed and leaned back in his seat, taking another deep drag of his cigarette in thought as he processed what would be the best answer to provide – if anything, to satiate your curiosity, but keep you in the dark to protect you.

“And I want the truth, Iz.”

“Well, darling. You’d best get comfortable, then.”

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Slash and Duff Mckagan fairycore aesthetic ( because I act on impulse)

[petals-and-bullets]

Mr Jewel

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Word Count: 1441

Info: Mr Jewel was like the Boogeyman – the story parents would tell their kids when they were misbehaving to convince them to stop acting up. Only this time, Mr Jewel was the story the cops would tell the criminals – or rather, what the employees would tell the businessmen so they’d start paying them decently, or something. And one fateful night, you were forced to meet the Boogeyman.

It was always raining in the city. It wasn’t exactly the nicest experience, but it mattered little to the pair of men stood in the alleyway, the only light being the lit ends of their cigarettes whenever they took a drag, sheltered under the safety of a hanging awning from the store beside them.

After a few moments, one of the men reached into his pocket and with little reaction shot his partner, watching his body crumble and collapse to the floor before he lazily flicked away the remains of his cigarettes and stuffed his pistol back into the pocket of his coat and hunched his shoulders to his ears before he adjusted his cap and walked into the night, vanishing into the shadows with little noise.

It wouldn’t be until the next morning, when the sun’s rays began to lick the pavement, that the body of one of the most influential businessmen of the city would be found.

You hated the nightshift. It was pretty much almost always cold, it was almost certainly raining, and you didn’t want to talk about the subtle rise in murder-robberies that had begun to loom over the city like a thick fog. And you refused to believe the rumours of the mysterious Mr Jewel, who had suddenly gained infamy despite being a mere story. He was like the Boogeyman – the story parents would tell their kids when they were misbehaving to convince them to stop acting up. Only this time, Mr Jewel was the story the cops would tell the criminals – or rather, what the employees would tell the businessmen so they’d start paying them decently, or something.

“See you soon, Bob,” you called out as you grabbed your coat from the shitty hook that looked like if anything heavier than the light jacket you wore would be put on it, it would fall off the wall, and probably bring the rest of the wall down with it. Bob’s Diner wasn’t the cleanest – or most maintained diner in the city – but it paid a decent wage and Bob, the overweight owner and self-proclaimed master chef, made sure you and the others under his employ were kept safe and out of bother. The man didn’t take anything for an excuse if there was trouble, and there was a long list of names who had been banned from even showing their face in the diner because they’d made one of the waiters or waitresses uncomfortable.

You smiled at the grunted goodbye before you stepped out into the cool wind, wrapping your jacket further around yourself as you began your trek down the road. A few lone cars drove past, but you didn’t pay any heed to them. Everyone had places to be or things to do, just like yourself, and yet there was something that made you slow your pace as you walked past the alley, squinting into the dark curiously. After a moment, you dared to take a few steps into the darkness, your ears taking note of every noise that echoed in between the buildings that surrounded you, though you froze at the sound of low voices. Daring to glance back at the entrance to the alley, you eventually swallowed and continued your advance forward, only to stumble a little and stop when you realised just what you had walked into.

In front of you, their faces illuminated by the lit ends of their cigarettes, were two men. One of them, his eyes glinting in the shadows as he turned to face you, raised one hand, the bracelets hanging off his wrist jangling and shining in the dim lights that barely allowed you to see the features of his face. Your gaze trailed from his dark eyes and down to his hand, where you froze with the realisation that he was aiming a gun at you. Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly like a fish, as you tried to find the words to say something, anything to him.

Without blinking, he turned and fired his gun at his companion, and you couldn’t help but shriek as ethe other man’s body crumpled and he collapsed. When you realised the other man had turned his gaze back to you, you immediately jumped back and stumbled over your own feet as you tried to think of something, anything, to say to him, if anything to save your own life. Eventually, your back hit the wall and you unconsciously looked towards the man, stifling a whimper as he stalked towards you. Gloved fingers took a hold of your chin and guided you to look at him, and your eyes widened as you realised that the stories you had heard weren’t just fake stories – they were real.

Mr Jewel was real, and he was stood right in front of you.

“Hello, darling,” he muttered, his voice surprisingly soft, before he guided you to turn your head this way and that. He quirked a brow, his lips curling into a soft smirk as he continued to investigate your face – the way your eyes widened, the way your lower lip trembled, either from fear or from the cold, he didn’t care to guess which was the answer.

“What do you want?” You shot back, your breath condensing into a puff of air that floated between you, dissipating between you before he leaned in, his own breath warming your cheeks and the bridge of your nose. The scent of cigarette smoke and coffee filled your nose, and you scrunched it slightly as your brain scrambled to remember where you had smelled it before; where you had seen that jawline for. His sunglasses, despite it being dark, hid his eyes from you, and your eyes widened in realisation when his hand rose to push them down the bridge of the distinct nose, his lips curling into a smile you knew far too well.

“Izzy?” You forced out, your eyes widening in horror as you realised that your boyfriend – the man who had previously held you close and stroked your hair and comforted you after you had a nightmare about Mr Jewel – was Mr Jewel himself. Your stomach twisted, forming tight knots as you struggled to maintain your calm as he tilted his head in acknowledgement, his hand sliding down your arm to firmly grasp your hand in his.

“The one and the same. Now, we should really be off,” he muttered, before he pulled you out of the alley and into the cold night, his steps brisk and his eyes alert, like a cat on the prowl for another creature that might impose upon its territory. Too stunned to say anything, you stumbled alongside him until he reached the low seated body of his car, opening the door for you.

“Ever the gentleman,” you muttered, before you clambered in at the warning glance he gave you. After another glance around, he walked to the driver’s side and slid in, before he calmly started the car and drove down the poorly lighted streets, one hand expertly retrieving a cigarette from his pocket before he lit it with his lighter. You watched him from your spot in the front seat, hugging your knees as you considered your next steps, before you opened your mouth.

“You know, what? No. What the fuck, Izzy?”

The only response you really got was a quirked brow, before he sighed and glanced at you, dark eyes peering over the rim of his sunglasses. That bloody look made you grit your teeth, and you crossed your arms and slumped back into your seat with a huff.

“And now you’re acting like a petulant child?” He questioned eventually, before he sighed and pulled over, before he turned to face you, resting an elbow on the steering wheel.

“I’m not acting like anything. I just want an answer on what the fuck is going on. I mean, you’re- You…” You trailed off as you finally looked at him, your anger dissipating as you regarded the man before you, licking your bottom lip.

“Well, you’re smart. You can put two and two together; you figured out who I am.”

“I’m very well aware of that. But I want to know why. Or how.”

“How?”

“Yes, how. How the hell you hid,” you motioned to him, “this from me.”

He sighed and leaned back in his seat, taking another deep drag of his cigarette in thought as he processed what would be the best answer to provide – if anything, to satiate your curiosity, but keep you in the dark to protect you.

“And I want the truth, Iz.”

“Well, darling. You’d best get comfortable, then.”

[valizzzysupremacy]

Bad Obsesion demo

OMGGGGG, IZZY'S VOICE I'm going to cry now 😭

[petals-and-bullets]

Names

Pairing: Izzy x Reader

Word Count: 1588

Info: Anon Request! ‘Hi could you please write a fic about with Izzy Stradlin and whenever he and the reader have sex she will sometimes subconsciously switch to moaning Jeff instead of Izzy and it really turns him on even though the reader has not clue she does it so Izzy brings it up one night and idk what the ending would be 😂 surprise me! Also sorry if this was confusing 😂 ‘

A/N: Apologies for taking so long! Writer’s block had hit me harder than anticipated, although I do hope this was worth the wait! I’ve already gotten started on the other fic requests, so it shouldn’t be long until they’re released too. Thank you for your patience and support; it really means a lot!

Keep reading

[straddlingizzystradlin]

“The story of Guns n’ Roses” (2004)

[straddlingizzystradlin]

when i say he looks like a painting

I

MEAN

IT

[bia003]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY STRADLIN!! <3

Jeffrey baby's 60th birthday

[straddlingizzystradlin]

HAPPY 60th BIRTHDAY IZZY STRADLIN (April 8, 1962)

[buterasaugust]

@stradlin-the-globe posted this on instagram and im smiling and crying at the same time over this cute tiny face of my baby izzy...

i donno what else to say:"((

[izzyscig]

[themusichistorian-deactivated20]

A slide (film transparency) of Izzy Stradlin and the Ju Ju Hounds.

Thanks for stopping by my little Tumblr I appreciate it. It’s something I do in my spare time that makes me happy. Hope you’re well and safe.

🥀