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smth-in-theway · 27 days ago

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𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅

Izzy stradlin/ fem!Reader

Tags: original female character, late 1980s, karaoke night, music, cussing, smut, p in v sex, not established relationship, implying drug use, teasing, just Izzy (is already a tag), drunk/high state, wall sex, fingering kind of, maybe some other additional tags to be added(tell me if I missed something) + also it’s very long and I’m sorry but still hope you enjoy (lol).

Description: Under the neon lights of the Sunset Strip, a night of karaoke with Izzy Stradlin takes an unexpected turn. As MDMA flows through your veins and classic rock anthems fill the air, boundaries blur between performance and desire. What begins as musical connection evolves into something far more intense, but in the haze of substances and stolen kisses, can anything real emerge by morning?

a/n: that was supposed to be one of the chapters for my Ao3 fanfic with Izzy “Anhedonia” (shameless promotion yeah ikr) but I changed my plans for the plot itself so this chapter won’t be originally there. But I was kind of sad to throw away this beautiful chapter so I changed it a little bit to make a smut out of it. (lol what a lovely way to let this chapter live) So maybe I will post it here and on my Ao3, I’ll see. Anyway, I hope you enjoy cause it’s my first time writing smut (sorry if it’s ass) and I kind of need to train for further usage of this “genre”. 🫶🏻🫶🏻

A strong grip grabbed your hand, leading you through the crowd of people who stuck to each other like tongues on ice, exchanging scents. His dilated pupils and clouded gaze could not be erased from your memory, while the “vitamin” taken half an hour earlier worked deep under your skull, creating a false sense of comfort in the middle of an ocean of the unknown. Izzy’s calloused and dry fingers intercepted yours, gluing the skin, so smooth, like child’s with his flaky and warm one. The difference was sensual. The rings he wore cooled some corners of your limbs, only to sweat again after a while, sliding like oil and electrifying the sense of touch. Like two teenagers, you ran after each other along the dark and dimly lit streets of the Sunset Strip, laughing with all your might and feeling especially free. It seemed to you that the whole world is just nonsense, you are the main character of your story where all those people are your friends and in general you are the queen of the whole world. You became more social and wanted to make friends with everyone. Izzy became more alive, you don’t know if you will remember him like this, if in the morning when the carriage turns into a pumpkin you will remember his happy eyes, saturated with euphoria. Remembering the fact that he threw off the shackles, running away with you from the imaginary guards of your prison with him inside your reality. Now in your heads there was not a single negative thought or guilt for actions, you felt good. And it doesn’t matter what the world thinks, because only you exist.

Somewhere in the distance, music was playing from some old convertible crookedly parked on the side of the road, spraying Bowie or Prince songs everywhere, you did not catch the familiar melody with your ears, not even having time to look back as Izzy pushed you after him into a dim alley lit only by neon and light from the windows of people who lived above. The air around you smelled of gasoline, burning, cheap street food and cigarettes, making the space just a thick impenetrable flow of mixed smells that your nose did not perceive well. Lifting your chest up, then down and then up again, you opened your mouth wanting only to inhale more air than everyone else, collecting a large armful of the remaining pure oxygen. It’s not real in places like this and soon it will be sold in bags along with drugs, because substances trick our brains, making us feel a constant need for something that our bodies do not need. Air is needed more than cocaine. One to live, another to not die. Izzy has the same reaction to you, especially now when his tall figure like a shield pushed everyone around, trampling a path for you through the tall grass and helping you further to the very corner of the alley where a red neon sign awaited you: “Backbeat Karaoke Lounge”. Slightly blinking, as if all the life was sucked out of it. The two letters “K” in the karaoke didn’t glow, which is why you couldn’t immediately read what was written there, already feeling like everything was swimming before your eyes. The other letters were still shining, like stars at the end of their lives, indicating the fact that soon no one would even guess what was written on this damn sign.

Izzy pushed the heavy wooden door with his shoulder, directing it forward. It was covered with leatherette like in underground clubs. Inside, behind this door, it generally smelled of cheap beer, overheated bodies and cigarette smoke that blurred the vision. Heat rushed into your body. You didn’t imagine Izzy’s brain being the genius of bad ideas, but in the last few days he began to show his bad side too often. Maybe this is for the best, fate screams run, but your brain says otherwise and begs you to stay. The impossible is possible, especially now when you realize that it’s already been several days since you met him and during this time you managed to spend more time together than apart. It says something, but you don't know what it is yet. It might be bad, it might be good, but it doesn't matter how fast your story does, it matters how deep it goes into your skin. And Izzy will stay there because he can't get his satisfaction.

Familiar pupils caught yours when you found yourself in place where everyone around you was free. Or rather, substances gave them wings of freedom sending them to heavenly heavens of pleasure while black filled the blooming surface of irises. Your euphoric wings of MDMA had long been digging in your brain, like a stick in an anthill releasing dopamine into free fall throughout the body while the world acquired colors and unusual softness, like moss. There was nothing under your feet and muffled music sounded in your ears, you feel it with every cell like a drowning man. Your senses were indeed the drowning Brian Jones. Yes, you are drowning just like him because breathing has become harder with every step. Like light through water, a neon sign on the wall meets you with Izzy inside "Sing your heart out" through this whole black hole of hedonism and damn prostitution of the soul. The ceilings were low, the walls were knocked off and only along them there were a few peeling booths with old posters - KISS, The Clash, Rolling Stones and many others that could be named during all evening. You liked them and now especially wanted to become one of them.

Izzy bought you drinks to sing karaoke for free, succumbing to another promotion and provocation to attract customers, selling more drinks. Karaoke evening once a week and you are already like Sherlock removing the mask from the false offers of an unpopular bar that is so eager to increase revenue. You looked around with your jaw lost somewhere as if you had never been to karaoke. In front of you was a small stage with two microphone stands, on the sides there were speakers on tripods, so old but powerful. They were so similar to guards. Behind the stage there was a TV with a convex screen and sometimes it seemed to you that it was about to pour out forward like liquid but solid magma. From the inside, there were low-res background videos of some beaches, random night shots of fireworks, waves and Tokyo. You wanted to jump right into the screen and be there among the azure waters and attractive pictures, only not here among the sweating crowd. A LaserDisc player, cassettes with soundtracks, a large remote control for selecting songs and a film were at your disposal when some idiots walked away realizing that real rock stars had come to replace them. You immediately took up the wired microphones with a metal grill and a power button, feeling like a real star. If only you could change your suit, you would be a real Freddie Mercury. Izzy was fiddling with the equipment when he returned from the bar counter, holding two large glasses of refreshing beer in his hand, which he left next to the screen, knowing for sure that both of you would sing until the end. What a tech geek. This guy knows his stuff and it seems he is not here for the first time.

- «Take on me.» you said out of the blue to which Izzy turned to you with a half-smile.

-«Is this flirting?» he asked in his usual raspy voice that jumped an octave higher, making him clear his throat. It was like he was hoping you meant something. Sometimes he was such a teenager that it made you smile and ruffle his hair with a smirk.

-«This is a song.» you pointed to the disc that laid out in a line with hundreds of others to which he turned his high eyes to you with disapproval not wanting to start with pop songs but noticing how your own puppy-like irises were looking at him, he nodded inserting the tape into the player, adjusting everything with the remote control as needed while you smiled with anticipation and nervously chattered your teeth. Familiar music came out of the speaker and it made you jump with anticipation, there was a small crowd around and you didn't care about them simply because Izzy and those songs meant more to your cheerful, high and exploratory view than a couple of idols that came to stare at you.

Izzy tuned in knowing that pop was definitely not what was on his playlist, but he decided to give you what you wanted. After all, it was his turn later. Anyway, he was here for one reason and that reason was reflected in his eyes as the first words appeared on the screen. Your voice was like that long yellow line, eating up the words, reproducing them from the screen into reality and pushing Izzy in the shoulder so that he would sing too and not stare at you.

- «…Today is another day to find you.» he blinked, returning to the screen and trying to catch the rhythm after the lost equilibrium he had just experienced when you had knocked him back into reality with your punch. Okay, lost social rating points again, he can give his cup back and run to the locker room in tears. How embarrassing, why was he staring at her? Okay..time to sing

- «Shying away.» Your voice complemented it and you turned to him as if apologizing for the awkward start. «I'll be coming for your love, okay?» such irony, such a sick and dishonest irony connected your views, which made you smile when his usual nut colored gaze caught yours. He sang it too and maybe it just seemed that way to you because you were high and all the people around you were your friends. But he clearly wanted to tell you something with this, because you weren't just joking around at the bar, but experiencing a small catharsis where even a small song is a confession.

- «Take on me.» Izzy's voice caught this chorus, which made you remember Morten Harket and his performative video where he calls a blonde girl with him to the world of comics on the other side of existence. Now this scene was similar to yours, it seemed that you were both about to run away to where no one would find you.

- «Take on me.» you smiled, catching his voice like a shooting star. Even if you couldn't sing, even if it didn't sound like Harket's, you both complemented each other. You weren't afraid to embarrass yourself, even if you were high, just because Izzy was there and he was in the same situation. 1:1.

-«Take me on.» such a cigarette and hoarse voice, completely unsuitable for a pop star, sounded from his thin and so desirable lips. Everything in the world seemed possible under the influence of drugs, even if from the outside you looked like idiots. You just wanted to forget and clasp his neck, giving him the opportunity to do everything he wanted with you.

-«I'll be gone... In a day or two» you tried to raise a high note, looking at the screen, then at Izzy, from which you got confused, feeling how laughter came out of your mouth by itself. Everything seemed so funny and simple. Even the fact that this phrase sounded ironic from your lips, you already forgot about everything looking into these deep brown or dark olive eyes, they changed color in the dark. You wanted to jump inside them, diving to the very depths, to his very heart. This feeling was repulsive knowing that you haven't even known each other for a week, but so what? No one cares.

The song continued and you began to dance when the melody began to gain momentum, pop music sometimes made you subconsciously shake your limbs and, like a hypnotized zombie, catch the rhythms in time with your heartbeat. Even despite your great love for rock, pop was sometimes the source of your joy, also doing magical things with your consciousness. A couple of people around you were also singing along, looking at you and nodding to the beat, someone was filming with a Panasonic camera, someone was laughing hysterically in the corner of the bar with a group of friends , some couple at the bar were kissing while the bartender was dusting himself askew, wiping glasses and having a strange hairdo like Elvis. You knew that you didn’t regret coming here at Izzy’s request, knowing that he has good taste in such places. He knows that music is a form of speech, and perhaps by sharing it with you this evening he was sharing words that none of you can say. The room was periodically filled with flashes of light, constantly illuminating your faces in different colors, while you tried different versions of Izzy on your tongue. Like a multi-colored Polaroid painted with different markers. The sounds of clicking, blinking screens and the muffled voices of those who chose songs danced around your temples. Your and Izzy’s song, came to an end with the cherry blossoms in the background as you sang the last line, your voice carrying through the room, feeling like it was your last day. You were so close, smelling the cigarettes on his body, dusting his skin with sugar, tasting the cherry gloss on his lips and the sheen of sweat on your collarbones. One touch and fate would chop his head off and burn you with the fire of karma, making you feel guilty for losing clear control in the midst of the musical and drug adrenaline.

-«Now it's my turn to choose.» Izzy said, pulling away and grabbing his glass of beer to ease the dryness in his throat.

-«What will you choose?» you asked, pulling the tape out of the player, still trying to get your breathing back to normal.

-«Gimme Shelter.» Izzy said as he picked out the right one from the stack of tapes and replaced pop with the Stones while you quickly gulped down your beer, returning your gaze back to the screen.

- «Classic.» You nodded back at him, getting ready to sing as the familiar guitar sound began to hit your chest so dryly with a rhythmic beat. Your fingers grabbed the microphone with a tremor, not from fear or excitement but from a feeling of dizziness, it seemed like you were about to fall when the Stones began to play, you loved this band so much and knowing that you were singing their song with Izzy gave your body a signal to lose gravity as the words began to appear on the screen one by one.

- «War, children, yeah..» He sang with you in unison as the words appeared on the screen again. The Stones really knew how to bring people together with taste.

- «It's just a shot away, it's just a shot away» you sang along feeling like Mick Jagger, as if your chest was about to fry in the hellish flames of submission to fate while the song, like a scream, pierced the ashes of war and desperation through a long slow motion.

- «It's just a kiss away, it's just a kiss away..» Izzy sang along, closing his eyes and letting the music flow through his veins like heroin throughout your duet.

- «Kiss away, kiss away, hey!» you raised your hand up, feeling the energy of the melody only to splash it out of your body with different movements, understanding why the lead singers were dancing on stage. The culmination of the melody and different pictures on the screen did not take long to come and smiles of euphoria spread across your face again, washing it all down with more sips of beer, feeling how the glass empties quickly with the same speed as the pain, joy and adrenaline in your body after the «performance».

- «It's your turn to choose.» Izzy said, returning with another batch of drinks, using your wallet. Money was pouring out of it in stacks, although its joke, no, because you won't let him know that it's not even equal to what you have. Time is ticking fast again, not obeying your power.

- «Whole lotta love.» You smirked with a note of defiance in your voice while Jagger's voice and his sticky as gum Gimme shelter still pulsated in your temples. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe you were crazy.

- «Ohh..» Izzy whistled, replacing old glasses with new ones and leaning over the tapes, changing the Stones to Zeppelin. «Not bad, not bad.» The sound with a bad mix went through the speaker again, but with such soul. In the second minute of the song, you regretted that you were alive when sounds similar to moans went through your ears, you did not turn around to Izzy, not giving him a chance to look at you in a moment of vulnerability. But it wasn't long before the guitar sounds came to your aid, drawing your attention back to the lyrics. You still liked the song despite that small aspect, especially the fact that Izzy sometimes imitated the guitar with his fingers during the solo, making you smile at him. Someone lit a cigarette at the bar, and the smoke hung in the air, swirling in spirals under the very ceiling, letting imaginary clouds form, as if a karaoke machine was releasing smoke at the end or your and Izzy's minds. It all felt like an emotional episode. From Take On Me, where everything is still sweet and naive, to Gimme Shelter, where there is threat and desire, and to Whole Lotta Love, where everything becomes frankly physical and dangerous. The first is about escape, romanticism and illusion, the second and third are about threat, passion and an apocalyptic breakdown. Like your situation with Izzy, first a light hallucinogenic euphoria, then something much heavier and deeper, just like now.

Your hands, covered in glitter, then wrapped around each other as you drank glass after glass, song after song, losing your voice for hours. But you didn't care, because everything around you was floating. People - not people, but colored spots. The bar - not a bar, but a black room with lights, like a ship during a storm, screams, words and lyrics mixed, changing personalities like cards. You were two social chameleons exchanging yourselves for other people, becoming singers of fortune and world stages. Satisfaction, Stupid girl, Come together, Dude, Dream on, Light my fire, Somebody to Love, I love Rock’n’Roll… followed one after another eating up the minutes on the clock and erasing the passers-by, making people in the bar come and go, the places empty and faces spinning before your eyes, crossing out the exact contours. And yellow words appeared on the screen with white shadows, slowly emerging against the background of a murky view of Tokyo in the 70s, cars, women in kimonos, lights of night streets and meaningless shots, but it didn’t matter when the song was playing, all that was needed was the words and the rustling recording on the camera with the name of the song/band. Holding the microphone with both hands as if it were a life preserver, you danced, fooled around, half-hugged and just had fun with each other while the alcohol mixed with the drug, erasing any perception of shame. Your wallet didn’t lag behind the fun either, no longer supporting your and Izzy’s drunk faces. The last song of the night or already the morning, you don’t remember exactly, was because your pocket money that you took with you “just in case” betrayed you, leaving you on the sidelines of torn memories, barely moving carcasses and plastic cups with cocktails left by someone on the edge of the stage that trembled from the sound.

MDMA whispered under the skin and caressed, so pleasant and so satisfying. The heart beat out a rhythm, dancing in the middle of your chest, ready to jump out from there while your eyes were intertwined with each other among hundreds of others. Around nothing entered the memory, the brain seemed to block the ability to remember what happened next, everything was like a slow motion movie. As if the truth or a lie retold from mouth to mouth, playing a broken phone. Hot skin felt every touch three times stronger, everything went through goosebumps through the fabric of clothes, coming out as an acid kaleidoscope.

- «You are beautiful.» Izzy whispered through the broken film of neurons feeling how no logical thought would pass through your head.

- «It's a pill.» You answered, turning your gaze to him, half-open eyes, so sleeping, so drunk and so desirable. He, like Medusa Gorgon, turns you into stone with his gaze, grinding you into powder and inhaling it. All the songs grew like petals from your eyelashes, every blink like flowers bloomed in front of your eyes, letting the butterfly of his own eyes sit there and take all the feelings, like bees collecting pollen of secrets from where no one else has ever managed to get it.

- «No.» Izzy answered. «It's you.» His lips were next to your ear whispering a secret that only you will remember, only you will hear hoping that you will understand and he will not have to chew everything like for others. He knew that you will understand him more than others. They will not understand. You looked at him without blinking. The world seemed to be silent, only the projector clicked, the microphones hummed, somewhere in the distance someone was laughing, knocking over a beer bottle and a huge meteorite was already rushing towards the world, ready to blow up the planet. But even then there will be no silence, even then the music will continue to click on the temples bleeding from wounds, then the flowers will begin to grow again from the sent soil of the bloody rain of the dead. Then looking into his eyes you will find peace that no one has ever been able to give you, there the gardens will always be greener and life will be better.

He ran his fingers over your cheeks letting himself breathe in air while his lips greedily cut the distance breaking the rules and stealing your kiss in the silence of minds. Izzy was not a stupid guy and missing an opportunity is definitely not about him. You answered without thinking while your lips danced in an intimate tango of secrets and his hands outlined your body like a map wanting to know where was what. Your cheeks, then shoulders, then your back where he slowly slid to the very bottom of your waist. Alcohol and drugs mixed into one whole clouding your gaze completely, closing it with imaginary curtains when his tongue slid into your mouth. You couldn't think straight anymore, your hand slipped under his shirt, leaving you wanting more, until he let out a short groan, lowering his hand from your cheek to your arm.

-«Hold up, tiger...» he muttered, pushing his lips away from yours, causing his black curls to tickle your face and drool to form a line between your lips.

-«Izzy what the-» you didn't have time to express your displeasure when he grabbed you by your shameless hand and dragged you away from the hall itself, pushing you away from all of those people again.

Disappearing from the stranger's view, he pushed the first door open that was indeed the staff room. Fuck everyone when he closed the door with the latch, leaning you against the door, no one would dare come in here while he was here with you.

- «I'm not done with you yet.» He whispered, connecting your lips again, his tongue immediately slid between them, meeting yours, to which he squeezed out a quiet but such a pleasant moan. This sound warmed the bottom of your stomach while butterflies flew up in goosebumps on your skin. Your tongues played with each other, tasting, while his hand was the first to begin the unfinished, sliding under his T-shirt to feel your skin. You did not lag behind him, playing with his black hair on the back of his head, gradually going down to his shoulders to take off his leather jacket, to which he ran his tongue along your lower lip, biting it.

- «Izzy?!» You gasped and whispered in surprise, slightly pushing him in the chest but not having anything against it in your head.

- «Sometimes I want to eat you alive. Just like that pill so that you will fill me completely, and not just my brain.» he whispered, freeing you from your stylized long-sleeved top, leaving you up in just your bra, feeling the cold of this damn room.

-«I never thought of you as a cannibal.» you whispered back with a smirk as he pounced on your neck, biting and licking you like a hungry animal, wanting so desperately to leave hickeys. His hands slid under your skirt, squeezing your butt brazenly.

-«Well…I am but with very precise tastes and they only include you. The rest are garbage.» he whispered in your ear, making you bite your already wounded lower lip. You raised your hand to grab his hair and gently rip him off you, to which he only responded with a groan and disapproval in the form of a frown. «Hey-»

-"Then stop testing me and go for it.» you said through an irritated grin, to which he only raised an eyebrow again, sensing your annoyance.

- «Say the magic word.» He smirked without moving but you could feel how hard it was for him to keep everything in his pants when you were around.

- «Now.» You looked into his eyes while grabbing his belt on his pants to which he only sighed heavily.

-«How bossy...but alright. Time to release that tiger from its cage.» He smirked giving you free rein to which he unfastened your bra freeing you from your main female problem and sucking on that place with such impudence that you stopped halfway to unzip his fly. His tongue licked your nipples so precisely and so skillfully that you had to sell your soul to the devil after seeing the stars right in front of your eyes. You pulled his pants down so they fell down where they belonged. Your fingers grabbed his hair again to which he only continued his game of being a milksop. «Your cherry is the best.» he stated from which you snorted.

- «You’re high.» you responded to his strange ramblings.

- «On you. And I want to OD.» he answered again greedily kissing you and pressing you to the door lifting your skirt up and tights down to feel you. When his fingers slid where they shouldn’t you moaned into his lips. His smirk started to turn you on so much that he just continued without wasting a second and turning the corner of your panties to slip where you want him.

- «Motherfucker..» you mumbled into his lips through groans at his obvious teasing, feeling how your whole body went numb and touch became more sensitive.

- «I don’t think you will accent me having it with your mom rather than with you.» he inserted one finger, pushing away from you and checking your reaction. Sometimes he was so annoying and you wanted to hit him.

- «Than..Than…ugh! You piss me off!.» you sighed it at his movements, trying to release your energy from within and not die from an excess of emotions, looking into his eyes, to which he just amusingly snorted. Damn you, Stradlin.

- «I’m not and you know it.» His movements were impatient but very precise which made you wonder how much of experience he really have. Then the second finger entered and then you just kissed him while he pressed himself against you letting him feel how much you were the reason for his desire. He pulled away again and every time he did it, you wanted to press him back like an oxygen tube without which you can’t live. His long tongue licked those fingers that he pulled out of you with satisfied grin at which you laughed.

-«Tasty?» you joked at which he nodded.

- «As it should be.» and here again his lips and yours connected while his hands lifted you up by your thighs freeing themselves from any fabric and what had been bothering you before. Thoughts didn’t add up and common sense died before your eyes as he slowly entered you, making you both feel the highest kind of pleasure. You knew what sex was but he knew more. Your understanding did not go beyond groupies or rock stars. You just understood how much this thing was needed when the adrenaline was jumping up to the ceiling. His hands grabbed your thighs so tightly, pushing into you while your back was pressed against that very unfortunate door. Gasp, moans, short sighs and ragged breathing filled the room while you and Izzy were a puzzle for each other, the air you both breathe and the food you both consume.

- «So who are we now?…Who are we to each other?» you suddenly asked him through the blur, smeared images and incomprehensible sounds that came from inside your ears, pollinating your mind with fear that someone might catch you. But even if this happens, no one will remember your faces, but you wanted to remember Izzy's face. You didn’t know what to think or feel, but you knew that you wanted Izzy and you must stay with him until the very end. Until the north star goes out.

- «You are my oxygen. You are what I want to breathe every day.» He admitted through heavy and ragged breathing, feeling how with each push the knot in his lower abdomen was getting tighter. His immunity became stable because of you, you became the one who gives him the opportunity to breathe evenly.

- «Naive to the point of horror.» You answered through a giggle, to which he didn’t stop, continuing to mix your bodies together, like forbidden chemicals that do not work with each other but cannot react without each other. Paradox.

- «Whoever told you this is a complete idiot.» Izzy muttered, pressing his lips to your ears and making the last push with a rather drawn-out groan, releasing himself and letting you know that he was not joking, even under a pile of substances the picture is washed away, but you will not forget his words.

«I will love you very much even under the effect of the vitamin in my head.» he whispered to end this long night.

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