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slxshh · 8 months

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first time.

izzy straddlin x f reader

tw- oral sex, uses of pet names, (sweetie, baby) gentle sex, missionary,

summary- readers first time with izzy

★•★•★•★ ★•★•★•★ ★•★•★•★ ★•★•★•★ ★•★•★•

She layed quietly with Izzy on the bed, her head resting on his chest as they watched TV in his room. She was spending the night again at Izzy's again. His larger hand gently caressing her soft thigh while they enjoyed the film in silence. They were watching a funny movie, and someone had said something that made her softly giggle. Izzy's hand remained on her thigh, softly rubbing it, while his other hand played with her hair. The sound of her laughter brought a smile to his face. "Do you think that's funny?" he whispered, looking down at her with a small grin. She nodded gently, looking up at him with a sweet, gentle smile. He smirked, feeling a strong desire to kiss her, and maybe even more. They had been together for a while, but their physical intimacy had never gone beyond making out. He gently cupped her cheek and pressed his lips onto her soft ones. Her cheeks flushed a little, as she had kissed him before, yet every time felt like a first with him.

Their lips met in a gentle embrace, a soft and loving connection. His lips moved against hers, tender at first, but the gentleness soon gave way to a rougher, more passionate kiss. Her soft pink lips deepened in color, becoming a more pronounced red as the gentle kisses continued to linger. She found herself blushing at the delightful sensation. Her arms found their way around his neck in a gentle hold, his strong arms reciprocated by pulling her onto his lap. As he reclined on the bed, she straddled his waist, her soft legs on either side of his waist. Their lips continued to move against each other's. His hands, traveled down her waist to the small of her back, rubbing it with a softness that was both comforting and exciting.

Her long hair, was tucked gently behind her ears. Her hands, rested gently on his chest, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink from the escalating passion. His rough hands, in contrast to hers, traveled further down to her soft thighs, rubbing them gently. Her black shorts, rode up her thighs just a bit. Her cheeks, already a soft pink, deepened in hue as he tugged gently at the waistband of her shorts. Pausing their passionate encounter for a moment, he pulled away gently and looked softly up at her, his eyes filled with both tenderness and desire. he lifted her light body off his before flipping them over so he was now on top. his rough hands traveled down to her thighs as he rubbed her thighs softly, his thumbs brushing her inner thighs as he looked softly down at her. her sweet and shy eyes looking back up into his. his hands traveled to the waist band of her shorts before leaning down and pressing his lips onto her neck softly, leaving passionate and gentle but rough kisses on her neck. gently pulling down her shorts as he did so. soft whimpers or soft quiet little moans left her mouth as he kissed her neck.

Tender whimpers escaped her lips as he tenderly kissed the sensitive areas along her neck, each touch sending a shiver down her spine. He carefully and sensually removed her panties, the sudden rush of cool air against her bare skin causing her to gasp ever so slightly. Yet, any sound she made was swiftly silenced as he resumed kissing her neck, his lips softly exploring her skin. Her eyelids fluttered closed, her breathing becoming increasingly uneven and slow, mirroring the rhythm of her pounding heart. His hands, rough from years of diligent work yet gentle in their touch, began to explore her body. They started from her stomach, tracing the curve of her waist, caressing her waist and tummy softly. before pulling off her shirt, his eyes wandering around her body. a small smirk on his face, before his fingers gradually making their way up to the clasp of her bra. His fingers toyed with the straps, gently tugging at them, before he pulled away from her. He looked at her, his eyes filled with a burning desire, and asked in a soft whisper, “can i sweetie?” His words were barely audible, yet they rang clear in the silence of the room. She responded with a gentle nod, her flushed face just a breath away from his. He returned her nod, he unclipped her bra and gently removed it. His eyes roamed over her body, a smirk curving his lips as he took in the sight before him. “You are a work of art,” he whispered, his words holding a sincerity that made her heart flutter. With a sweet smile, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss before going back to kissing her neck softly, before traveling down and kissing her collar bone ever so gently.

he began to unbutton his jeans, his lips still on her neck as he softly kissed her collar bone, tugging his jeans down. before taking off his shirt as-well, pulling away from the kiss as he looked down at her softly.

tugging his boxers down, revealing his hard length. the tip red and dripping with precum. the sight of her infront of him like this making it harder for him to relax. “god i want you so badly.” he whispered. his voice deep with desire and lust. gently reaching over on the nightstand and opening a small drawer, grabbing a condom as rolled it on. gently placing his hands on her soft thighs and spreading her legs gently, looking at her softly. “are you sure?” he whispered gently but reassuringly. she nodded slightly, “yes.”

that was all he needed before he gently positioned himself with her entrance. making her gasp quietly and softly from the sensation and feeling, it was all new to her. he began to slowly push himself into her. a soft whimper escaping her mouth as he stretched her out. “ow.” she whimpered quietly and softly. he softly brushed a strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “it’s okay baby i’ll go slow.” he whispered sweetly. slowly pushing himself all the way in. making her shudder lightly. a soft sigh escaping her mouth. her arms made their way around his neck as they wrapped around it. her sweet eyes looking up into his. he began to slowly move in and out of her, thrusting slowly and going to pace she wanted. she whimpered quietly and softly. her hands softly gripping his shoulders. he grunted quietly. his hands gently grabbing her hips as he slowly thruster into her. “this okay?” he whispered gently. she nodded . “y-yeaa.” he nodded slightly, “c-can you go faster?” she whispered. he smirked slightly and nodded. gently beginning to thrust a bit quicker into her. a soft little moan escaping her mouth as her eyes fluttered shut. a soft groan had escaped his lips. gripping her hips gently as he thrusted into her. the room filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and moans, and the gentle sound of the skin slapping against one another’s. her hands gripping his shoulders gently as she whimpered and moaned softly against him. his mouth next to her ear as he whispered sweet nothings and reassuring words into her ear.

once she had grown comfortable she decided to let him take the lead, letting him go and do as he pleased. and he took complete advantage of that, thrusting into her gently but quickly. making her moan and whimper his name. he loved hearing that, the deep groans and moans escaping his lips filling the room aswell as hers. his hips hitting hers so often. his hands on her hips and hers scratching his back gently. he felt his cock twitch slightly. “fuck.” he groaned as he thrusted in and out of her, she felt the knot growing in her lower tummy. “izzy.” she moaned softly. her eyes fluttering, “i-i’m g-gonna” she whimpered out softly. “i know baby, i know. it’s okay just let go.” he whispered sweetly and gently. a soft moan left her lips before she had came. panting softly and quietly. he gently pulled out of her. panting quietly. rolling off of her gently as he layed beside her. looking over at her as she layed there, breathless and relaxed. her soft thighs pressed together and her hair a bit fluffed up. he smiled gently as he got up, grabbing his and her clothes. helping her up and off the bed, “cmon let’s go get cleaned up.” he whispered gently as he led them to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

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#izzy stradlin #guns n roses #rock n roll #axl rose #classic rock #slash #duff mckagan #steven adler

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multifandomrandomgirl · 3 months

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Don't Lie To Me - Izzy Stradlin x F!reader

Masterlist:

A/N: I cried writing this lmao

The rain beat down on the windows of the apartment that Izzy and Y/N shared. Each drop thudded against the glass. The city outside glistened under the streetlights, inside the apartment, the walls seemingly braced themselves for the storm within.

Izzy Stradlin stood in the middle of their living room, his arms crossed. His normal cold demeanour was fractured, his mask slipping off.Y/N stood opposite him, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if she were trying to protect herself from the emotional hurricane.

“Don’t lie to me,” Y/N’s voice trembled as she spoke, her bottom lip wobbling. “You never loved me.”

Izzy’s eyes flickered, and his expression became unreadable - a mix of regret and anger. He opened his mouth to argue but he couldn’t speak. His words tangled deep into a web of untold lies and feelings.

“Why would you say that?” Izzy’s voice came out harsher than he had intended. He sounded angry, and broken.

Y/N took a step backwards, further distancing herself from him. “Because it’s true, Izzy. All those nights you were away, all those times you’d promised me you’d be home with me and you weren’t. I’ve been lying to myself, making myself believe you care about me.”

Izzy carded a hand through his hair, his frustration obvious. “I was on tour,” He snapped. “You know that, it’s not like I wanted to be away from you.”

“Stop making excuses!” Y/N snapped, the words stabbed Izzy in the heart. “It wasn’t just tours. When you were here, at home, you weren't really here. You were lost somewhere else in your mind, music, band, and own world. I was just something convenient to come home to as and when it suited you.”

“Don’t,” He warned. “That’s not fair. You knew who I was, what you were getting yourself into.”

“Yes,” Y/N whispered, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “And yet, I chose you. But you never chose me, not really.”

A heavy silence followed, each second felt like an eternity. Izzy looked at Y/N, his face softening. He wanted to bridge the gap between them so badly, but he was rooted to the spot like a tree.

“You’re right,” He said quietly. “I’m not good at this, at relationships. I never have been. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you, Y/N.”

“Caring about me isn’t enough. I needed more. I needed you to be here with me, You were always off somewhere else, with your band and your dreams. I was always just an afterthought. I was just sitting at home waiting for you to remember I existed.” Y/N replied, the tears fell down her cheeks rapidly.

Izzy’s shoulders slumped, he was beginning to lose any energy he had left in him to continue fighting. He looked at Y/N, she could see the truth in his eyes at last. He had never loved her the way she so desperately needed and wanted him to, the way she had loved him all this time.

“I’m sorry,” He said, the words lingered in the air, empty, hollow, meaningless. “I never meant to hurt you, really.”

“I know, but that doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the fact you hurt me,” Y/N’s voice wavered as she spoke. “It’s over, Izzy. It has to be.”

“I understand.” He whispered, a single tear fell down his cheek.

Y/N turned away, unable to look at him. As she walked towards the door, each step she took felt like a dagger to her heart. The life she had shared with Izzy, the dreams they’d built all crumbled to dust as she walked away.

When she reached the door, she paused and turned to look back one final time. Izzy stood still in the middle of the room, he was a shadow of the man she had fallen in love with. The rain outside had gotten worse, a dull roar could be heard faintly in the background.

“Goodbye, Izzy.” She said softly, the words felt so final and they hung in the air.

“Goodbye.” Izzy replied, his voice so quiet it was barely audible over the storm outside the house.

Y/N stepped out into the rain, the cold droplets of water mixed with her tears. Each step away from the shared apartment she took, it felt like she was leaving more and more of her heart behind. Y/N knew this was the only way, staying with Izzy would have meant more heartbreak.

The lights of the city were blurred by her tears as she continued to trudge down the steer, the weight of Izzy’s truth finally hitting her. Izzy has never loved her the way she deserved to be loved, and she needed to let go. She needed to heal, even if that meant being out in the storm alone.

The rain continued to fall, washing away what remained of the one-sided love, the love Y/N tricked herself into believing she had.

The memories of the early days of her relationship with Izzy flashed through her mind. The moments they had together backstage, the laughter, promises. Back when she believed she was building a strong future. The reality really was much different.

Izzy’s life being the rhythm guitarist for Guns ‘N’ Roses was a whirlwind of chaos. The constant tours, endless parties, the groupies who Izzy probably touched and slept with whilst Y/N was at home, keeping the house in order for him to come back to. She knew deep down that she was never really his priority, she’d always known but had ignored it instead, choosing to see a love that was never there.

Y/N thought about the nights she’d spent alone, waiting for him to come home, praying that he was telling the truth when he said he’d try harder next time. The brief moments of intimacy he gave her could never make up for the constant loneliness. Y/N was sick and tired of fighting for a place in his life when it was clear there was no room for her.

Y/N reached the end of the street, she turned to look back at the apartment one last time. The lights were still clearly on, but it felt so distant now. Y/N took a deep breath and finally tore her gaze away from the apartment and decided to move on. Move on from the pain, the lies, the heartbreak.

Move on from Izzy.

—

Izzy had watched as Y/N walked out the door, the finality of her leaving hit him like a freight train. The apartment, once a sanctuary from his busy life, a place where he was protected, now felt empty and broken. He stood in the middle of the room, unable to move.

Deep down, he’d always known this moment would come. Even from the beginning, when Y/N had accepted his insane life, his endless tours with Guns ‘N’ Roses, he’d known that he’d asked too much. The adrenaline rush of performing, the constant groupies tempting him, they’d always been his escape — his way of distracting himself from the pressures he had, the insecurities that ate away at him.

He walked over to the window and watched as her figure disappeared into the night, the rain blurred her figure more and more until he could no longer see her. Izzy leaned his head against the window, closing his eyes to fight back the tears that were on the verge of spilling. He knew Y/N deserved way more than he could give her, more than the half-hearted promises of returning home to see her and the thirty seconds of intimacy every five or six weeks.

He thought back to the start of their relationship, her eyes full of hope and love. The way she believed in him when he didn’t even believe in himself. Izzy wanted to be that person for her, he wanted to offer her the stability and love she needed and wanted but everytime he tried, he found himself tangled back into the web of being a rockstar. Izzy groaned as he thought about the groupies, all the nights he spent drinking and the pleasures of alcohol and groupies when Y/N had been sitting waiting for him to call.

He opened his eyes and stared at the rain-soaked streets. He felt a heavy sense of loss in his heart, not just because he lost Y/N, but he’d thrown away a life. Y/N had been right, of course she had been, he never loved her the way she deserved to be loved. He’d been too caught up in his selfishness, his fame and dreams to realise the damage he’d been causing her.

“I’m sorry.” The word fell into silence, echoing off the walls. It was too late, he knew that. He moved away from the window, filled with regrets. The apartment walls closed in around him.

As the rain continued to fall, Izzy realised he had to finally face the truth. He had chosen music and the band of Y/N and in doing so, he lost the one person who really cared for him, who loved him for who he was. It was a nasty pill to swallow, but he had to live with his choices.

As he stood there alone, Izzy finally began to understand the true cost of stardom, selfishness and his choices.

#izzy stradlin #izzy gnr #izzy stradlin x reader #gunsnroses #guns n roses

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foodsies4me · 6 months

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for the wip game, I gottsa know; what's "The spity spite ALEC CAN DRESS HIMSELF OKAY"? Because the title speaks to me 🩵

Alright, this is a very self-indulgent little fic that sparked because of a recurring trend that I'm not too much a fan of. Magnus repeats something that Izzy asks him to say over the phone in preparation for a party they're going to, except the fun teasing joke isn't as funny to Alec as it's always been to her and Jace. Cue a conversation between Malec and some hugs that are needed on both sides.

Magnus slowly enters his or rather their bedroom. He’s carrying both cups of tea in his hands, opening the door with his heel to make sure Alexander can hear him approach and doesn’t startle. His mind is still replaying the scene from earlier, trying to pinpoint what he did to put that expression on Alexander’s face. Come on, Alec, don’t be such a Nathalie Graystone! The sentence had seemed innocent enough. An inside joke Magnus hadn’t heard of before, but surely if it put that expression on Alexander’s face every time Isabelle or Jace said it, then they wouldn’t have made him repeat it. Except Magnus can’t see any other possibility. Looking at Alexander, it’s clear he followed Isabelle’s demands. He’s wearing a tight-fitting, forest-green button-down that shows off his broad shoulders and tapered waist. The sleeves are rolled up to showcase the deliciously toned arms, the silky catching the light in a way that makes Magnus’ eyes linger longer than they already would. The dark, almost black, ripped jeans Isabelle bought for him are just on the right side of too small, hugging his legs in a way that makes Magnus want to rip them off, while the ankle boots completely the look to make for one delectable, mouth-watering picture. Magnus hates it.

#wip ask meme #thanks for asking #foodsies writes #foodsies rambles

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ibelivedthehypeam · 1 year

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Izzy Stradlin smut

Sitting at a table surrounded by his friends while his hands creeped up my thigh wasn’t how I though this night would go.

Just over a month without Izzy and I was going feral. I didn’t expect I’d really miss him as much as I do, but here we are. Finally he was back in LA for a show tonight and was staying for a few days. He had asked me to meet him before the gig started, somewhere backstage. I’d got dressed up in something I knew he could resist, and got a cab to the venue.

Upon arriving to the bar I realised they was quite a large group of people waiting to be let in. I followed Izzy’s instructions and headed to a door round the back of this building. Soon enough I recognised faces, smiling to duff and slash who were lazily drinking with some girls.

“Hey babe!” I heard Izzy say, pulling me into a hug. He gave me a short kiss while walking me into the dressing room he was occupying.

“I’v missed you.” I admit into his ear as he kisses down my neck, looking to see my dress and smirking at me.

“Same, so much, I have to be on stage in 5 though.” He says calmly, caressing my shoulders and I audibly let out a groan of annoyance.

“Don’t worry, we can spend the rest of the night together.” He smiles, winking at me and I giggle. At least he was on the same mind track as me.

“Let’s go Iz!” I heard someone yell from outside the door. He gives me a final kiss before grabbing his guitar off a stand.

“Looks like it’s your time to shine.” I grin at him and he laughs, pecking my lips once more before we walk out of the room.

The hallways were dimly lit, with unusual stains on either side of the walls. Izzy however seemed to know his way round perfectly. When we got into the main venue I recognised it instantly, they had played here a few times.

“See you later.” He exclaims joining Steven walking up onto stage. The crowd roared at their entrance, screaming their names at they began the introduction to rocket queen. After they had finished their first few songs I realised Erin, axls girlfriend, was dancing just near to me.

“Hey yn!” She exclaimed acknowledging my appearance in the crowd of people in the side lines. We chatted for a bit until they started their song Paradise City, both of us screaming the words and dancing together.

When they were coming to the end of their set I noticed Izzy’s eyes lingering on my figure more frequently. I smirked at him catching his dark gaze, which he didn’t stop, his eyes travelling down my body. I loved when he played his guitar, how his hands stretched over the frets, making me squirm slightly at the sight. Not to mention the way he would throw his head back in parts of the songs. I didn’t know if he did it on purpose but it certainly got me in a mood. After they had finished their final song, the five of them walked off, full of sweat and post-show energy.

Quickly enough izzy found me again placing a long kiss to my lips, wrapping his arms around my waist and I hooked mine around his neck. He slid his tongue past my lips and into my mouth, causing me to release a short moan. After he pulled away he stared into my features, only long enough to make me flustered. The guys were already planning their evening ‘getting drunk’ session and apparently Izzy had already agreed to it. I gave him a glare as the group of us headed to a bar just down the road from where they had performed.

I knew we wouldn’t be here for long if I managed to turn on Izzy. I was already desperate for him, it had been so long since I had felt him and he had got me all riled up from him being on stage. We all got situated in a circular table in the corner of the building, me between Steven and Izzy.

“Sweetheart you can wait 30 minutes, can’t you?” He asks, with a tone in his voice that made me bite down on my lips. He smirks, knowing he just getting me even more hot and bothered. I roll my eyes at him and turn to Steven to talk to him.

“So Steven, how are you?” I ask and we began talking about casual subjects. As we started to chat about his new drum equipment I felt Izzy’s hand, warm and gentle on my knee, stroking with him thumb. I continue to talk to Steven ignoring Izzy, who was still trying to get a reaction out of me by moving his hand to my thigh. Thank god the table was covering my bottom half, otherwise I think we would have had some teasing from his band mates. Steven announces he’s getting more drinks and Izzy grabs my chin to face him.

“What’s with the ignoring baby, I thought you were horny?” Izzy chucked into my ear just quite enough that I can only hear. He was right of course but I wasn’t gonna let him know that, he would tease me with it forever.

“I’m not ignoring you, your just wanting my attention sweetie.” I say, resting my hand on his chest, moving it down to his crotch. I hear him gulp and I giggle, removing my hand, turning to Steven who had returned with drinks.

I start talking to Steven again, this time duff was laughing at some mtv thing, telling a story. That I was only half listening to as Izzy whispered dirty secrets into my neck.

“Let’s go home, I need you.” He groans, grabbing my hand and guiding it to his bulge that could be pretty noticeable. He moaned slightly as I pinched the tip through his trousers, holding my hand as I worked on him. I stood up and Izzy explained we were leaving, some excuse of jet lag, it was obvious we were gonna fuck though. The taxi home was short, full of groping and kissing, but not long enough that we would have done anything too sexual.

“Please sweetheart, I’m so hard for you baby.” Izzy groaned, we weren’t too steps into my apartment before he pushed me against a wall, letting me feel his hard cock against my heat. If I wasn’t wet already I definitely was now. Listing to our combined moans, we touched and felt each over to the skin, making our way to the bedroom. He knew his way around, had done this before too many time to count, but every time the feeling of lust and excitement never failed to intrude our minds.

“Yes Izzy!” I moaned into his shoulder as my arms linked around his back, scratching and pulling at his skin. He let his fingers stroke down to my wet flesh, stroking down my pussy and steadying himself above me. I felt his tip enter me, then the rest of his length, hitting right where I wanted him. His exhales of pleasure were sent straight to my core as he continued thrusting into me at a alarming pase.

“God I’ve missed you.” He admits in a hurry as he feels down my sides, I feel he’s close and I clench, almost warning him that I am too. He does a final lift of his hips and both of us collapse into load moans of each others names. Coming down from my high I notice he’s looking at me, smiling. I laugh and he kisses my lips, it’s passionate, full of love.

Authors note - again izzy?! he’s hot im sorry 🤭. Anyway request please!!! I have no ideas. (Links in my pinned post) thanksss

#izzy stradlin #guns and roses #izzy stradlin smut #guns and roses smut #slash #Steven Adler #duff mckagan #axl rose #smut

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

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*crashes into your askbox* is it time for Wednesday prompts?!

I have been WAITING.

I'm like very torn, I was so sure I was going to ask you for something cute and fluffy with malec and hellhound quarrel. But I think I want to see trubelood heir Alec as an adult. With his shadows. I'd love to see how he turns out having the shadows be a constant in his life. Always on his side. I always found tv Alec never had that (even though technically Jace should have been, but TV Jace was such an asshole to Alec. But I digress.) anyway, yeah, adult true blood heir Alec. Please and thank you.

Thanks for your writing. 😘

i have been excited!!! about what prompt you were going to go with and i'd be happy to do either but i'll admit i was excited to offer a peek into adult!Trueblood shadow heir Alec. yes that was a mouthful but the Alec is also the shadows heir lol

i hope you enjoy this!

Alec smirks in amusement as he watches his shadowhunters try and discreetly find him. He’s well aware that it’s a past-time they all play. With bets and rewards but it’s in good humor and it helps their situational awareness, so Alec allows it and never comments.

A fire message is plucked out of the air and the flames extinguished and Alec looks over, reading the message being helpfully held in the air for his perusal. “Oh?” He hums thoughtfully, “mother is coming?” The shadows seems both excited and irritated and Alec knows that it’s because she’s been visiting Izzy and had to see Robert. “Oh hush,” he murmurs, amused despite his scolding. “We both know that mother hates him at this point. She’s going to be more amused that he’s running around with someone barely older than Izzy than hurt.” Then Alec frowns, “though he is setting a bad example for Izzy.”

The note disappears, devoured and Alec lets himself be led, closing his eyes trustingly and opening them to find himself in a store.

It’s not really him, just the lingering of his presence and he watches as the shadows curl and covetously motion to a display case of rather gaudy cups and tarot packs.

“I thought we had better taste than that.” Alec teases and he feels the phantom tug of his hair and then he nods and his physical hand comes up to his mouth and he bites, letting blood well up under the point of his canine. His blood doesn’t get the chance to fall, a shadow eagerly wrapping around the wound and devouring what he has to share. In his mind, Alec can see the shadows growing, gaining form and strength and they steal one card of many the moment a shadow touches what they crave.

“Interesting.” Alec says as he holds it, physically in his hands and studies it. It seems a normal card, mundane even. Not one of the many magical ones Alec knows exist. Yet, it’s steeped with a rich angelic grace that Alec knows he can only taste

“Oh, you want me to have this?” He asks and he can’t help how much he loves the shadows. “For the clave?” Because the clave is constantly trying to figure out how to get a shackle around Alec and their latest attempt — woman after woman being sent out to seduce him — Alec and his shadows are fed up. They agree, but Alec can tell they’re only doing this for him and he shakes his head and lets them swallow him up as he drops the card. “We should eat it.” Alec says and the shadows perk up, eager but uncertain. “I thought you hated bowing to the clave and while it’s exhausting, it’s not like anyone they can send will actually get anywhere.”

Which is true.

The first and last nephilim female who tried to climb into his bed never climbed out and was never found. And Alec learned that his shadows grow ever stronger the more nephilim blood they devour and so while it’s still being reviewed, he’s hoping that his request to hunt down Circle members will be approved.

It’s a selfish reason, but Alec’s learned to be selfish.

It’s the safest option, without how protective his shadow is.

The card is gone a moment later and Alec feels a wave of pressure, like he’s been kicked in the chest and through several walls and while he knows he’s still safe.

It’s a shock.

Around him his shadows are writhing and he feels like they’re screaming with him.

—

“Baby,” he hears when he starts to open his eyes again and he sees his mother, a soft smile that Alec once thought he’d never know on her painted lips.

“Mother.” He murmurs, knowing they’re alone because his mother might have softened after awoke as her heir, it’s a private thing between them. Not something the rest of the world ever need see, not when it’s known that Maryse will defend her son just as fierily as his shadows do.

His Trueblood mother, who spent weeks and months and years proving that Alec could finally depend on her, that he could learn to slowly trust her.

She made mistakes and she bears some of the scars from those.

Alec does too, those his are invisible and internal.

Outside of training, his mother has never touched him again with anything other than the most delicate of touches. Sometimes Alec thinks she’s afraid to hold him close and he knows that their sparring is cruel, to them both but she’s the only one he can trust to use his shadows with.

Because they understand and it’s the only time they will ever allow her to touch him in violence but Alec knows that it hurts her, to see the bruises on his body and know she put them there. There’s a guilt he knows is because of him, but he doesn’t understand why she’s guilt over this, when he’s allowed and asked for the help it brings.

It’s a relief he’s old enough and strong enough now that his control means he can train with anyone he wants. It means that his mother smiles more and her eyes are lighter and she touches him more freely and Alec knows it was cruel but she was cruel first and she’d agreed to it.

A form of penance, she’d admitted.

Because it wasn’t fair for him to hate hurting him now, when he needed what it would teach and she hadn’t cared or noticed how much she was hurting him when all he’d needed was her love.

“You’ve been asleep the day. You nearly worried your hunters, but I told

“We ate something.” Alec says casually and he watches his mother still and then nod.

“Another shadowhunters?” She asks, because Alec knows she’ll deal with it, “mundane, downworlder?”

“A card.” Alec says with a shrug, “it had a cup drawn on it. It was full of angelic energy and grace which was a surprise.”

“A card with a cup drawn on it.” His mother says softly, in contemplation and then she turns to him, “Alec, who had it. Before you took it? Male, female? What color hair?”

“The people around the most were three females, two with red hair, one with brown. One of them was a warlock so we didn’t get too close when they were there. We didn’t want to risk tripping any wards, but they tasted familiar. Angelic almost.”

“And you ate it.” Maryse marvels, staring at him in something close to awe, “and you feel fine?”

Alec nods, “was it important?”

His mother smiles, the sharp kind she gets when she’s about to destroy someone or something for Alec’s sake.

“No baby, not anymore. The best thing, is to forget where you got it from and what it looked like and just focus on what it did. Never tell anyone, okay?”

Alec nods, because he doesn’t talk to anyone about his shadows, not even the clave.

#writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #lumine writes #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #shadowhunters #shadowhunters au #my fics #my ficlets #my fanfics

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youwouldntlietopapa · 5 months

Text

Lights Out

Rating: 18+

Features: Copia x OC (Isobel)

Word count: 3384

Note: hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, pain, loss, grief, loss of identity, listen it's just gonna be a sad one this time. I'm sorry.

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He turned the lights off.

Again.

He turned the lights off like they burned his skin, like standing anywhere near them was painful. And it was, she thought to herself. In the most horrible way. In a way she didn’t know how to protect him from. Days and weeks, they’d been working on it. Talking and hurting and crying and grieving together. In private moments where Papa didn’t belong, but the mask didn’t come off any more. In the places that were supposed to be just for them.

And still, he turned the lights off.

“Cope?” Izzy’s voice was soft in the dark, followed by the sound of her shifting on the bed toward the door. Staring at the place she knew he was standing. “Come to bed, my love.”

His bare feet padded almost silently across the thick bedroom rug. The quiet hiss of bedding sliding against bedding as he pulled the covers back and slid in beside her. All part of the routine that had developed since… Since he’d come back. Izzy waited, holding back, until he was more settled. More at home. More himself. Reaching over when she felt him let that tense breath go, sinking into the bed, and then into her arms. Pulling her tightly against himself and burying his face in her hair.

“I’m right here, baby.” She whispered, kissing his shoulder, hands rubbing gentle circles over his back. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

He shuddered in her embrace, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. Breathing in the familiar scent of her. Of home. “Safe…” His voice cracked, but he didn’t let go. Reminding himself more than anything. “I am safe with you, Isobel. I know this. I do.”

“Always and forever.” Her kisses followed his shoulder up his neck, pausing when he tensed as she reached his jaw. Afraid to push him too far. “It’s all right. Bad day. I understand.”

Copia clenched his teeth so hard she could feel it. Swallowing like he had a mouthful of broken glass. His breaths coming in staccato bursts. “No… please. Please.” He couldn’t even quite articulate what he was begging for. She didn’t pull away, she never pulled away. She’d stopped because he’d stopped. Because he was tense. Because he was afraid. Because, despite all of the assurances that it would pass, that he’d find himself again, he still felt sick and empty and lost. Even having her there felt like doing something wrong. Like trapping her in this hell with him.

But the thought of letting her go felt so much worse.

It felt like death.

“Please, Izzy… I need you. I want you. I do.”

Her fingers combed through his hair and she wrapped herself around him as if she could keep him safe from the pain and the worry. “You have me, Cope.”

“What if…” his voice caught in his throat. “What if I’m not him any more?”

“You are.” She said stubbornly.

“Why then do I feel like… like an imposter?”

Copia crushed his eyes shut and hiccuped a breath. Holding on to her for dear life. It hurt. Clawing at his throat and making his eyes burn. It hurt until it felt like dying, like drowning, like screaming until his throat bled as the fires consumed him.

“I… I look in the mirror and I don’t see myself.” He struggled, half choking on the words. “There is a stranger there, and he follows me everywhere. Even here. With you. I bring a… a stranger to bed and…” His breath caught again, grabbing the back of his old shirt she wore to bed in his white knuckled grip.

“Breathe, baby.” Izzy whispered. “Breathe.”

The gasp was hard and fast, forcing air into his lungs. Letting it out in ragged choppy bursts. Another and another, fighting to get back to a level of calm that would at least let him speak. Focusing on her fingers in his hair and her warmth pressed against him, her lingering perfume and the steady rise and fall of her chest.

“I bring a stranger to bed… that you don’t ask for. That is forced on you. And… I…. I what? I ask you to pretend there is nothing wrong? I can’t even pretend and I ask you? Not just they steal from me everything I have left… of me… they steal everything of me I already give to you. No more Copia. Only Papa.” He could feel himself rambling, mind screaming, too wound up to stop even if he wanted to. “Papa who makes you nervous. Who makes you stop. Who pushes you away. I don’t want this, Izzy. I don’t. I can’t. I need you. I want you. I miss you. And I don’t know how to get back.”

“I’m so sorry, my love.” It was too much. It all hurt too much. He’d pulled away and fretted so much since he’d been brought home. So much that she’d gotten used to stopping. To feeling him tense and stopping without question. Too afraid of asking and too afraid of hurting him more. Izzy pulled back to look at him in the dim light that kept the dark from swallowing the room completely. Her hands cupping his face even as he tensed. The new face that still looked at her with his eyes and whispered her name with his voice. Kissing the new lips that still met hers with his love and passion. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Izzy kissed him again. His chin and his jaw and nose and all the places that had changed. Kissing away his tears. Until the tension eased and he melted against her.

“Cope, listen to me.” She spoke softly, not letting him go. “I know you. I know you like I know myself. I know the smell and the feel and the sound of the man I love. I know what he loves and what he doesn’t. I know how he sleeps and his routines and his favourites and his pet peeves and his turn-ons and his dreams and all the little things that make him who he is. I know him inside and out because he is my other half in a way I didn’t even think was possible. Because he’s my best friend and my love and my whole world. And I am telling you that you are him. From the first moment we met to right this second. You are Copia. My Copia.”

“You don’t need to get back.” Izzy whispered, trying to keep steady and failing miserably. “I’m right here. Right here. With you. Not Papa. Copia. All you have to do is to be here. With me. Because we have always been better together than apart and I can’t do this without you. I can’t. I can’t, Cope. I need you. I need you and I want you and I miss you.”

She fumbled behind herself until the bedside lamp chased the dark away and Copia squinted back at her against the sudden light. Her hands cupped his cheeks again, kissing him like it was the first time. When they’d both been too desperate to be terrified. She kissed him with all of herself, her body pressing against him tightly, hands wandering over every inch of skin she could reach, breathing and moving and being with him.

His own arms wrapped around her, letting himself stay in the moment. Savouring that feeling of normal, of feeling right, for the first time since it had all started. Found in the one place he should have known to look all along. The one place he should have trusted to be safe. The place he’d always been most at home and loved and protected. That he’d set so far out of reach in his mind it started to feel like it had never really been his place at all.

With her.

The truth hit him like a train, knocking the air from his lungs and every thought from his head. Leaning into her kiss fully, unreservedly. Burying his hands in her hair and clinging to her. His. She was his. In the same way he was hers. Even the shattered mess of pieces he’d become, they were hers, starting to come together in her hands. Back into a shape he could recognise as… maybe not the man he was… but the man he could be. One tiny piece at a time.

“I’m here.” It came out as a raspy whisper, forced past the fear and the hurt, and his throat felt raw with it. But, Dark Lord help him, he’d die if he didn’t say it.

How could two words carry so much weight? Izzy sobbed, a sound ripped from her very soul. Shaking her entirely. Like a break in the storm that had consumed them, the reprieve that she’d started to fear wasn’t coming. Finding his hand in a never ending darkness and knowing there was still some hope left.

The sound cut like a knife. How long had he been so lost in his own head to even realise that the person he loved most, who’d been desperately trying to keep him from crumbling completely, was falling apart right next to him? How long had he left her abandoned to deal with it all alone? Copia sat up, pulling her along with him. He leaned back against the headboard, collecting Izzy against his chest, wrapping his arms around her protectively. Letting her catch her breath.

“Cope…” She finally pulled back a little to look at him, cupping his face in her hands again. Begging with every ounce of herself. Weeks of fear and hurt and worry and panic all breaking loose at once. “Please… please, don’t leave.”

“I’m here.” He said with more conviction. “I’m here, Izzy.”

Copia gave her arm a gentle tug. A simple gesture he’d made a thousand times before. The silent way they’d spoken for years. A nudge or a touch, fingers brushing his hand or her foot bumping softly against his. And she moved without thinking, like she always did. Hearing him when he couldn’t find the words. Shifting to sit in his lap, staring back at him without the hesitation or discomfort he was sure he’d see in her eyes. Just Isobel. Looking at him like she always had. Like he was the only person in the whole world.

Izzy watched him closely. Searching for all the little things she’d learned to read in his expression. Trying to shove down the fear that those were gone too because they didn’t fit the image. But she knew that look in his eye. That small crease between his brows. She knew them like she knew his hand on her arm and the subtle way he’d moved to make space for her. The things they couldn’t steal from her. The Copia they couldn’t bury. Tracing the new lines of his face with her fingertips, relearning pathways she could have followed blindfolded.

“Cope…”

His hand drifted down to her hip, resting on her warm skin. It felt like a lifetime since he’d touched her. Since he’d felt like he could. The way she looked at him fanned a spark that had dimmed to near dying, and Copia leaned in to kiss her again. Needing it like air. Needing her. Sliding his hand up her back, pushing the fabric out of the way, even that thin barrier feeling like too much distance.

She didn’t need to think, didn’t want to think, grabbing his old shirt and pulling it over her head. Tossing it away and not much interested in where as long as it wasn’t between him and herself. Curling her fingers through his chest hair, she pressed back up against him. Moaning against his lips, need overtaking caution.

“Tell me you want this, Isobel.” Copia whispered. So close his lips brushed against hers. Some stupid, stubborn part of him still bracing for hesitation, the panicked urge to turn out the light and hide again rising like a wave set on crushing him.

She felt him tense, that fear she’d come to know so well. That she’d gotten accustomed to stopping for. Because it felt like the right thing to do. The thing she was supposed to do. For him. To keep him safe. To protect him when the guilt kept screaming at her that she hadn’t been there to protect him when he needed it most. And all at once she knew, deep down, with a certainty that threatened to break her, that she’d been wrong.

The distance wasn’t helping. The uncertainty and the stopping and the desperate attempts to keep him safe had been keeping him at arm's length. All of her efforts to protect him had been hurting them both. He didn’t need that. What he needed was…

Izzy claimed his mouth deeply. Pulling him close and breathing him in. Pouring out every ounce of want and need and longing and passion she’d kept locked away out of fear. They’d promised, right from the start. No more secrets. No more holding back. She’d been the one to forget and the thought of breaking those promises for one second longer was unacceptable.

“I need this.” She said earnestly. “I need you, Copia. Please don’t make me beg.”

He wouldn’t have, couldn’t have. Before the words were even fully formed, his hands and his mouth were already on her. One taste of her wasn’t enough, it was never enough. A parched man wandering the desert and stumbling into an oasis, one sip wouldn’t quench the thirst. He would drink it dry if no one tried to stop him. Finding every spot he knew would drag a moan from her, that had her nails biting into his back and her hips rolling against his begging for more. The spots that were for them, not Papa. That he needed to reclaim with an urgency he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so strongly before.

When her hand slipped between them, fingers finding him straining against his boxers, Copia’s breath caught in his throat. His face buried in her cleavage, moaning deeply. Letting her go only to awkwardly try to escape his single piece of clothing, kicking them off onto the floor.

Izzy couldn’t help it, giggling while he fought with his underpants. She caught his chin and lifted his gaze to meet hers. Her smile softening into something much more loving and content. “There’s my Copia.”

A pink blush rose on his cheeks and he smiled back at her in much the same way. That tiny bit of a tease, the first tentative steps back into normalcy. The tension in his shoulders loosened and his arms wrapped around her, grabbing a cheek in each hand. His eyes never left hers, leaning in close, lips latching on to on perfect pink nipple.

Her head lolled back with a breathy moan that turned into a laugh. “Definitely my Copia.”

In retaliation, he caught her nipple between his teeth. Making her squeak and look back down at him, with that mischievous look in his eye she knew all too well. Her heart sang, beating against her ribs like it meant to make an escape. Perhaps, she thought, trying to get back to its rightful owner.

His own heart sang with hers. That smile that was only for him, the way it crinkled the corners of her eyes in a way it never did for anyone else. Her easy laugh that he hadn’t heard in weeks. Her eyes locked on him, not forced or timid. Looking and seeing and staying there. Hope blooming again, for the first time since he’d been brought home.

“I want you, Isobel… I need you.”

Izzy’s hips lifted, still watching him, completely enthralled. Gasping when he reached down to guide himself into place, his need pressing against her entrance. Sinking down onto him slowly, she let out a long, breathy moan. Copia echoing the sound. Settled against his hips, thanking the dark lord for him, and revelling in the delicious stretch of being filled. Realising just how much she’d needed him.

They both took a moment to adjust. Close in a way they’d been missing and focused on each other. Her fingers ran through his chest hair, up to his neck. Her thumb rubbed along his jaw. Relearning the feel of it, of him.

“I missed you.” She whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “I missed you so much it hurt.”

It took every ounce of willpower not to cry. Not to grab on to her and sob himself sick. All the certainty that it was lost forever, or that who they’d been together was forever tainted, burning away in the light of the truth.

“I’ve got you, Cope.” Her lips brushed his. “I’ve got you.”

Her hips lifted and dropped back down in one fluid motion, Copia’s hands guiding her as much as he dared. Every thrust eroding that anxiety. By the seventh stroke, he gripped her hips tightly, taking control. Watching as she gave it up, eagerly, willingly. Following the movements of his hands and every bit of pressure urging her on. Marvelling at every sound she made, the heat of her eveloping him. Staring at her as she let herself go for him, never once looking away from his face. His name was on her lips and he snapped back up against her, moaning as loudly as she was. Finding more and more pieces of himself and clinging to them desperately.

A stream of Italian curses and prayers she’d heard before. Her own wordless cries, hands gripping his hair. Her mouth claimed his again. Deep and passionate and unrepentantly needy. Not able to get enough. She could feel him getting close, as close as she was. His fingers biting into her hips and threatening to leave marks that would last days. And all she wanted was more.

“Don’t stop…” She begged breathlessly. “Please…”

The word barely made it past her lips when her breath caught in her throat and she gripped him tightly. Diving headlong over the cliff. Copia watching, following, as she came completely undone around him. Until he couldn’t hold on any more, cock kicking hard inside her, filling her until he could feel his own seed and her slick dripping onto the bedding.

Together, they both flopped over. A tangled heap of limbs and gasping breaths and the shuddered, quiet moans of each aftershock gripping him again and again. Izzy’s leg hooking over his hip, keeping him close. Not that he had any intention of moving. The world could burn for all he cared, as long as he could stay there. Locked together with her.

Copia combed his fingers through her hair and kissed her softly, smiling against her lips. Even as he could feel the lump in his throat growing. “Sono inutile senza di te, Isobel. Senza speranza e perso. So di esserlo. Perché ho provato a vivere senza di te, per anni. Decenni. Ed ero infelice.” He whispered, before his voice failed him entirely. “Come ho potuto dimenticare che la mia casa faro era sempre qui?”

“I kept thinking that… that if I dimmed the lights, I could protect you.” She tried to hold his gaze, but her face crumpled all at once.

He caught her in a kiss before she could get any further. Keeping his voice soft and staying as close as he could get. “Nobody knows what we are doing right now, si? Is all a mess. Me, especially. Thinking…” He shook his head and sighed. “Stupid things. Thinking stupid stings. Just… just promise you stay with me, Isobel.”

She managed a smile, nudging her nose against his. “Satan himself couldn’t drag me away.”

Izzy shifted a little, reaching behind her to turn off the lamp. To let the dark settle back into place. Not the oppressive, hateful dark. But the quiet peace of their bed. Copia’s hand caught hers midway there, gently pulling it back.

“Not yet.” He whispered, stealing another kiss.

“Right now… I want to see you.”

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“Sono inutile senza di te, Isobel. Senza speranza e perso. So di esserlo. Perché ho provato a vivere senza di te, per anni. Decenni. Ed ero infelice.” = I'm useless without you, Isobel. Hopeless and lost. I know I am. Because I tried living without you, for years. Decades. And I was miserable.

“Come ho potuto dimenticare che la mia casa faro era sempre qui?” = How could I have forgotten that my beacon home was always right here?

#ghost fanfic #copia x oc #MDNI

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mandiemon3 · 9 months

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The Best Revenge is Living Well- Chapter 7

Mo stirred as someone moved against them. They felt around, feeling warm skin against their hands, before blinking their eyes open.

“Good morning,” Izzy said, voice still thick with sleep. He shifted, freeing an arm to brush their hair out of their face, letting his hand linger, his thumb caressing their cheek.

Mo grinned, propping themselves up to lean over him, holding his head gently as they leaned down to kiss him.

“Morning,” they mumbled when they broke apart, hovering over him. “Were you getting up to start the day?” They trailed their fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

Izzy nodded, leaning into their touch.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, it’s alright,” Mo said quietly, smiling down at him. “I’m glad to be up with you. Now I can make sure you get a good start to the day.” They turned, squinting at the window, just seeing the very beginning of the sunrise. “Do you always get up this early?”

Izzy nodded. “Yeah. Someone has to run this ship.”

“Well, now I get why you’re so grumpy all the time.” He scowled as Mo chuckled. “Relax, Iz, I’m just teasing.”

Izzy let his fingers trail along their face, gently tracing every curve and contour as if he wanted to commit it to memory. After a moment, he nudged them to the side, waiting for them to move before pushing himself up into a sitting position, groaning at the movement. He stretched slowly, allowing Mo to enjoy watching the muscles ripple along his arms, back, and shoulders. They were amazed at how strong he was, seeing a dozen different muscles flex at once.

Izzy glanced over his shoulder, smirking when he saw the look on Mo’s face. “Like what you see?” he drawled.

Mo grinned. “Yeah, very much,” they replied cheekily. They sat up, wrapping their arms around Izzy’s torse from behind, leaning their cheek on his shoulder. They sighed. “It’s going to be hard, acting like I used to out there. Like nothing’s changed.”

Izzy hummed. “I know,” he said. “But we don’t have a choice.” He turned to face Mo, cupping their face with his hand. He pressed a kiss to their forehead. “It’s worth it if we can pull this off.”

Mo smiled. “C’mon, let’s get you out there before Stede capsizes the ship,” they joked.

Izzy rolled his eyes, standing up from the bed and picking up his folded shirt. “Don’t even joke about that,” he grumbled, slipping his arms into the sleeves. “Your captain is an incompetent ponce. The smartest thing he ever did was hire you.”

Mo blushed as he began to button up his shirt. That was the nicest thing Izzy had said about their skills as a pirate. They pushed themselves off the bed, picking up the tie from the desk and slipping it over their lover’s head. They pressed a quick kiss to Izzy’s exposed neck, enjoying the slight shiver that ran through him, before tucking the tie under the collar of his shirt and carefully tightened it. As a final touch, they adjusted the ring secured to the knot, facing it forward.

“There you go,” Mo said, smiling up at Izzy. “Properly handsome.”

Izzy smiled softly, blush creeping up to his cheeks. He picked up his leather vest, slipping it on and buttoning it up in a fluid motion. Next was the belt he wore across his chest, holding his sword secure. When Izzy reached for his single leather glove, Mo stopped him, gently grabbing his hand. They brought it up to their face, eyebrows knit in concern as they examined the dark bruising from where they had bit him in their panic the night before. They gently kissed his knuckles before placing his glove in his palm and releasing him.

“I’m sorry for biting you,” they said, embarrassed that they had overacted and hurt him.

“It’s alright, love, you know that.” Izzy slipped his glove on, grimacing slightly from the pain it caused. “I will say though, I’m glad you’re not always that violent when you wake up.”

Mo frowned. “To be fair, you snuck up on me in the dead of night and covered my mouth. For all I knew, you were some stranger trying to kill me. Or worse,” they said with a grimace, “someone I knew trying to kill me.”

Izzy paused, straightening small details of his outfit. “Would you have bitten Frenchie?” he asked. “If he had woken you up the same way,” he added.

Mo shifted on their feet. “Well, Frenchie knows not to wake me up that way.”

Izzy grinned, beginning to comb through his hair, slicking it back like he must have done every morning since they met. “Ooh, does he have a matching scar?” he teased.

Mo shrugged, not able to muster up the energy to joke. “No. He just knows a bit more about my past. Enough to know that I don’t do well when someone sneaks up on me.” Izzy’s smile fell off his face, his eyes clouding over with worry. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t know. Did something happen to you? Something before we met?” They sighed, not really wanting to get into it. “Yeah,” they said flatly, avoiding making eye contact. “But let’s not talk about that now.” They gave a small smile, forcing themselves to look up at him. “Today is supposed to be a happy day for us. Let’s focus on the good.” Izzy hesitated before giving a small nod. He held out his hand to them, and they immediately accepted it. He rubbed small circles into the back of their hand, and Mo let themselves relax, focusing on the feel of his callouses, becoming more familiar by the moment.

“I’ll do whatever I can to protect you,” Izzy said simply. “Nothing’s going to hurt you, not while I’m here.”

Mo smiled weakly, doing their best not to let their emotions well up. Their voice was quiet when they replied, barely able to avoid the tremble that fought its way to be heard. “Thank you, Iz. Really, I mean it.”

Things went smoothly for most of the morning, at least as smoothly as could be expected when most of the crew consisted of people on a ship for the first time in their life. Despite a few stolen glances and small smiles, no one had seemed to pick up on a change in the chemistry between Izzy and Mo. To be on the safe side, the two had given each other a wide birth, not wanting to push their luck. To his credit, Frenchie was doing a good job of playing it cool as well. He gave a few knowing glances to Mo when he caught them looking Izzy’s way, and a light jab to their ribs when they had a light blush on their face after their fingers brushed Izzy’s while passing him a scope to examine a nearby island.

When it was time for the crew to take their lunch break, Mo suggested that they eat on deck to enjoy the pleasant weather. Wee John took to the idea immediately, hoping to use the brighter light to his advantage while adding small beads to a skirt he had been working on. Frenchie had hidden his smirk with his hand, pretending to scratch his nose, but had agreed to go with his friends, while Roach whisked his apron off over his head and tossed it onto the counter, eager to get out of the stuffy kitchen. Black Pete and Lucius had decided that they didn’t want to be left out of the fun, and quickly scrambled to catch up to their friends as they headed up to the deck. As a last thought, Mo dashed back, grabbing two mugs of grog to bring up the two first mates who couldn’t join them for lunch. They handed their plate to Roach to carry up for them, rolling their eyes as he picked a piece of crust off their sandwich and stuck it in his mouth. They grumbling something about the great betrayal under their breath, loud enough for Roach to hear and make him laugh.

As the crew settled down on the desk, each marking out their own spot to spread out with their plates and personal artifacts, Mo went up to the quarterdeck to give Buttons his grog.

“Aye,” he exclaimed, eyes widening in appreciation at the mug being held out to him. “Thank you, wean. You’re a kind spirit.” He took the mug from their hand, holding it up with absolute reverence.

Mo grinned. “My pleasure, Buttons. Make sure to take breaks in the shade,” they advised, walking back towards the steps. “You don’t want to get heat exhaustion.” “Aye, ye don’t need to worry about me. The sea shall rejuvenate me.”

They hopped down the steps, careful not to slosh any of the liquid out of the second mug they still held. They made their way towards Izzy where he stood at the bow of the ship with his back towards them.

“Hello, Mr. Hands,” Mo said, coming to a stop a few feet from the first mate. Izzy turned around, giving a small smile before collecting himself. He cleared his throat, frowning slightly.

“I thought I told you to call me Izzy,” he said, a tinge of humor in his voice.

Mo grinned, giving a small chuckle. “You’re right. Well, Izzy, I brought you this.” They held the mug out to him. “Figured you could use some refreshment after standing in the sun all day.” Izzy accepted the mug, but his small frown returned to his face. He looked up, opening his mouth to speak, but Mo cut him off. “Don’t worry, I brought some for Buttons too. There’s no proof of special treatment.” They grinned. “Besides, it’s not out of character for me to care about my first mates. No reason for the crew to get suspicious.”

“Well,” Izzy said, “thank you for thinking of Mr. Buttons and myself.” He raised his mug, as if giving a toast, before taking a swig. “Any comments from the boy yet?” he asked, tilting his head to where Lucius sat across the deck, propped up to lean next to Black Pete.

Mo sighed, following his gaze. “Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. I don’t know how he does it, but he’s never been wrong, not once. It’s like he can smell pheromones or something to tell when there’s drama afoot.” They chuckled dryly, smirking. “What do you want to bet that it’s this little talk we’re having now that tips him off?” Izzy scowled. “If he says anything-“ “I know, darling,” they interrupted. “You’ll hurt him, or make him wish he was never born. Might just toss him overboard.” Izzy grunted, clearly enjoying the thought. “Don’t worry so much,” they continued, “at least not about this. I know Lucius. He’s a bit delicate, and a shit sailor, but he’s loyal, and a good friend. I trust him. He wouldn’t sell us out.”

Izzy’s scowl remained, and it took everything in Mo not to reach out to comfort him. They knew that he would relax if they were able to take his hand or give him a kiss, but they also knew there was no way to do that without drawing unwanted attention from the rest of the crew.

Mo sighed. Izzy’s eyes flicked over to them, examining their face, his scowl replaced by worry. “I miss you,” they explained meekly. “I miss how we were last night, and this morning. I wish we didn’t have to hide.”

His eyes softened. “I know, love. We’ll figure this out, some way to make it work.”

“Yeah.” Mo hung their head, wrapping their arms around themselves. “It’s all just so unfair. Pete and Lucius get to be in a relationship, Olu and Jim get to have their thing, whatever’s going on there. We’re the only ones who can’t just be together.” They looked up, giving a gentle sigh. “You’re right though. We’ll figure it out.” They laughed weakly. “I know you didn’t survive this long at sea without getting crafty.” They gave Izzy’s shoulder a light punch, the only physical contact they could have without raising suspicions. “Well, I should get back to the others before they start putting things together.”

Izzy nodded, giving them a small smile. “Probably should. I’ll see you later.”

Mo gave a small smile. “You bet your ass you will.” They gave him one last fond look before turning to walk back to where Roach and Frenchie sat.

They settled down with their friends, taking their plate back from Roach and leaning on Frenchie’s shoulder as they took a bite from their sandwich. They couldn’t help but notice that more of the crust was missing, and glared at Roach, giving him a light kick with their boot. Roach smiled sweetly at them in response, his head lolled to the side, knowing they weren’t actually upset.

Frenchie kissed the top of Mo’s head, pulling them away from their farcical feud with the cook.

“You alright, love?” the tall pirate whispered, his breath tickling their ear.

Mo didn’t bother to lower their voice. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just thinking about stuff.” “What kind of stuff?” Roach asked, picking another piece of crust off Mo’s sandwich as they halfheartedly swatted him away.

They took a deep breath, blowing out the air slowly, deciding to split the difference between the full truth and an outright lie. “Y’know, just feeling a bit homesick today. You never really realize how much you miss certain things, or people, until you can’t have them anymore.” They glanced towards Izzy, hoping Roach wouldn’t be able to see how much they wanted to be with him, or the small pools of water gathering in their eyes. They tore their gaze away, giving their head a light shake, hoping to dislodge any thoughts of the man they couldn’t be around.

“I get it,” Roach said, his voice uncharacteristically level. “Sometimes I miss my home. But I carry the people from there that I love with me everyday.” He held up the loose fabric of the sash tied around his waist. “This was made for me by my mother. I wear it everyday, so that even when I miss her, she is with me.”

Mo reached out to put a hand on his knee. “Your mom would be proud of you,” they said, giving him a small smile. “You’re a good cook, and a better friend. You’re never afraid to speak your mind and stand up for what you believe in. Any decent person would be proud to call you family.” Roach laid his own hand on top of Mo’s, giving it a light squeeze.

“You know what?” Mo asked, their usual pep starting to come back to them. “We’re kind of like a family here. A big, rowdy, rambunctious family.” They grinned. “And I’m proud of you all,” they added. “There’s no other band of misfits I’d rather sail with.”

Roach smiled, his eyes getting a little misty.

“You’re right, too,” they continued, “about carrying your loved ones with you. That’s why I wear my ring, to never forget the family I came from.”

Mo glanced up to Frenchie. They knew he also had a memento from home, his green scarf, but they didn’t want to make him feel any pressure to share something he wasn’t ready to share. They reached out to hold his hand, their other hand still resting on Roach’s knee.

“We sure are an odd bunch,” Mo said, chuckling to themselves.

“Not your traditional family, that’s for sure,” Roach added.

Frenchie shrugged. “Best family I’ve ever had.” He squeezed Mo’s hand, giving them a warm smile.

Floorboards creaked as Lucius flopped down next to the trio.

“What are you guys talking about?” he asked.

“Just family. How we are one,” Mo said, releasing their friends’ hands to bite into their apple.

Lucius laughed. “God, what kind of fucked up gene pool would end up with us lot as relatives?”

Mo snorted. He was right, they certainly had a much more diverse family than the average group you’d find on land.

“I guess you’re right though,” he continued, looking down as he rocked his boot from side to side. “This is the most accepting group I’ve ever been around. Most people back home were weirded out by me.” He brushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “They just hated to see a pretty boy winning,” he joked.

Mo grinned, bumping their shoulder to his. “Well, we’re glad to have you, pretty boy.”

Lucius smirked. “Don’t let your moody man hear you say that, he might get jealous,” he joked, eyes darting to where Izzy stood away from the group.

Mo’s grin faltered before they caught themselves, willing themselves to act normal. They rolled their eyes. “Will you let that up?” They took another bite of their apple, hoping the repetitive motion of chewing would help to relieve some of their nerves and make them seem more relaxed.

“Only when you open your eyes and see what’s right in front of you.”

Frenchie butt in, hoping to diffuse the situation before anything was let slip. “I should have brought my project out here with me,” he blurted, not quite pulling off the casual tone he was going for. “Wee John has the right idea, this sunlight is perfect for stitching.” Mo rubbed his knee as he wheezed an awkward laugh, wanting him to know they saw and appreciated his efforts.

Mo pushed themselves up to stand, handing their half-eaten apple to Roach for him to finish. “Here you go, since you’re apparently hungry enough to eat half my goddamn sandwich.” They ruffled his hair for good measure as he accepted the apple, taking a big bite and almost choking as he laughed.

They began walking around the crew, gathering the used dishes to take back to the kitchen.

“Lucius, would you mind giving me a hand with these?” Mo gave him a sweet smile, ignoring Frenchie’s confused expression as he cocked his head to the side.

Lucius threw his head back dramatically and he gave an overexaggerated groan, before heaving himself up and lending a hand.

Once the two had stacked all the plates and gathered all the mugs, they began to make their way towards the door leading down into the ship, Mo glancing back to where Izzy had been standing. In a stroke of good luck, he had turned around, no longer facing out towards the sea, and Mo was able to give him an urgent look, nodding towards Lucius. They saw a confused expression flash across his face before Lucius asked if they were coming, forcing them to go back to their task. They just had to hope that Izzy would figure out what they were trying to tell him before they finished with the dishes.

They ducked down into the hallway, following Lucius as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Hey, Lucius?” they asked. Lucius hummed, looking over his shoulder to see what Mo wanted. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” “Oh yeah?” he asked. “What’s that, babe?”

Mo did the best to push down their nerves. “Well…you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone.” Lucius glanced over his shoulder again, a suspicious expression on his face, but he didn’t stop walking. “I can’t say much until you do, but I can promise that no one is in any danger or anything like that. It’s just a personal thing that I need to keep out of the gossip mill.” They stopped walking, grabbing Lucius’ arm to stop him too. “Please?” They gave him a pleading look.

Lucius rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, whatever. I promise. Now, what’s going on?”

The door leading up to the deck opened at the end of the hallway, and Mo froze to look back. The sunlight streaming in through the open door blinded them, making them squint. Familiar footsteps fell as the figure standing in the doorway walked down the steps, closing the door behind them. They smiled as they recognized Izzy’s form.

Beside them, Lucius groaned. “Ugh, here comes Izzy. Sorry, love, looks like whatever this secret is will have to wait.” Izzy strode towards them, and Mo had to grab Lucius’ arm again to prevent him from walking away. He frowned, looking over them in confusion. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Hey, Izzy,” Mo greeted, grinning.

He came to a stop next to them, a level expression on his face. “Hello.” He nodded towards the two. “Need help with those dishes?”

Lucius scoffed, but Mo smirked, handing Izzy a few mugs before continuing on their journey to the kitchen. “You coming, Lucius?” they called as they passed him.

Once everyone had made it to the kitchen and unloaded the dishes they were carrying, they idled, not sure how to proceed.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll just be leaving-“ Lucius attempted to slip past the others to make a dash for the door, wanting to avoid the awkward situation he found himself in. He found himself cut off when Izzy grabbed his arm, holding him captive. “W-what is this?” the young man asked, looking to Mo for help.

“Izzy, let him go,” Mo said gently, placing a calming hand on his arm. “He’s not going anywhere, there’s no need to manhandle him like that.” They turned their attention to Lucius as Izzy reluctantly released him, glaring daggers. “Lucius, remember how you promised to not tell the crew what I was about to tell you?”

Lucius nodded, stammering lightly as he tried to piece together what was happening.

“Well, what I was going to tell you is that…you were right.” Lucius’ brow furrowed. “About me and Izzy,” they clarified. “You’ve been teasing me about our relationship, saying that Izzy had feelings for me, and me for him, and…well, you were right.”

Lucius gasped, hands clasping over his mouth. He slowly released his hands as the news sunk in. “Wait, why are you telling me?” he asked.

Mo and Izzy exchanged a glance. “Well, we wanted to ask you to not tell anyone,” Mo said, “and to maybe lighten up on your teasing, so you don’t draw attention to us. You see, we might be breaking some rules by being together. We’re honestly not really sure if Izzy is allowed to be in a relationship with a crewmate. He was afraid you would want to tell our captains, to get him in trouble, but I convinced him to let me talk to you before taking any drastic actions.” Lucius frowned. “Drastic actions meaning?” “Meaning I’d throw you off the ship, boy,” Izzy said, smiling casually. Lucius paled.

Mo elbowed Izzy. “Lucius, I wouldn’t let him do that. As tough as he may act, he wouldn’t do that knowing how much I like you. Would you, darling?” they asked Izzy, giving him a sweet smile. Izzy growled, shuffling his weight. “I might,” he grumbled.

Lucius raised his eyebrows, blowing out a breath of air emphatically. “Alright, so you just want me to not tell anyone about this messy business,” he said, gesturing between the two in front of him, “and to not joke about you guys as much? That’s it?”

Mo grinned, nodding. “Exactly! I know that this is something you’d normally want to gossip about, but it could really put Izzy in danger. I know you don’t like him.” Lucius raised his eyebrows, looking away, as if to say “duh”. Izzy hissed. “If you could please just keep this to yourself and maybe stop pointing it out to everyone, that’s all we’d need. No one else can know about this.”

Lucius nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, alright, I think I can do that.” Izzy bristled. “Don’t think, just do,” he hissed, taking a step closer to the young man.

Lucius swallowed thickly, but found the confidence to speak. “Threaten me all you’d like, little man.” Izzy bared his teeth, making Mo step forward to hold onto his arm. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for them,” he continued, pointing to Mo. “So, if you even think about hurting them, you can consider yourself dead.” He paused, cocking his head to the side. “You’re not the only one who can make threats,” he added, clearly satisfied with himself, even if he was trembling from nerves.

Mo could feel the heat creeping up their neck, and couldn’t help but giggle a little at the shocked expression on Izzy’s face, his face red and his jaw tight.

“Thank you, Lucius.” Mo gave their friend’s shoulder an appreciative squeeze. “I appreciate it.” They turned to Izzy. “Anything you’d like to say, love?”

Izzy shuffled, readjusting his weight. He couldn’t meet Lucius’ gaze, choosing to look down instead, wishing the red of his face to fade away. “Piss off,” he said to Lucius. “I’m not going to hurt them,” he continued, barely loud enough for the others to hear. “And as long as you don’t go blabbing to the others…” he cleared his throat, clearly struggling to get the words out, “I won’t hurt you either.” He ran a hand through his hair anxiously, his boot tapping on the floorboards.

Mo smiled. It meant a lot to them that Izzy was willing to set aside his dislike of Lucius for them, to trust their judgment with something so big, that had the potential to ruin Izzy’s career and possibly put his life in danger. They grazed his hand with their own, silently asking him for permission to hold it, not wanting to embarrass him further in front of Lucius. To their relief, Izzy took their hand, letting them rub the back of his hand soothingly with their thumb.

“Okay, this is so weird,” Lucius blurted out, making Izzy clench his hand. “Sorry! I mean, you guys are cute, it’s just weird to see basically the nicest person I know with…” he trailed off, not wanting to risk getting himself stabbed by the hostile man in front of him.

Izzy’s face darkened. “A pirate?” he suggested gruffly.

Lucius nodded, taking the out offered to him. “Yeah, sure, let’s go with that.”

Izzy cleared his throat, straightening his posture. “Well, now that this is settled, I should get back to work.” He turned, faltering for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to Mo’s cheek, ignoring the burning of his face under Lucius’ gaze. He gave their hand a final squeeze before dropping it and walking back out into the hallway, heading for the steps up to the deck.

Once the first mate had closed the door behind him, Lucius turned his gaze to Mo, his mouth hanging open.

“Honey, how in the hell did that happen?” he asked, pointing towards the door.

Mo laughed. “I don’t know, it just did!” they said, grinning widely. They sighed heavily. “Oh gods, I’m so glad that went well.” They gave their friend a smile. “Thank you, by the way, for agreeing to keep our secret. And sorry about Izzy. His first idea when dealing with a problem is always to just kill whatever is upsetting him. But he promised not to hurt you, and he wouldn’t break a promise like that.”

Lucius smirked. “Maybe not to you, his precious little angel,” he teased, nudging them affectionately. Mo rolled their eyes, scoffing. “Yeah, I’m such a saint.” They laughed, thinking of something they could tell their friend without embarrassing Izzy with their personal details. “Okay, there is one funny thing I can tell you about how Izzy and I got together.” His eyebrows raised, eagerly wrapping his arms around himself.

“I don’t know if you heard, but I was pretty upset when I came in for bed last night. I tried to be quiet, but you might have heard me crying. It was pretty rough, if I’m being honest. Anyway, Izzy came to find me so we could talk, but I had fallen asleep by the time he came into our room. He had to wake me up, but didn’t want to make much sound, so he put his hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t say anything and wake everyone else up.”

Lucius gasped, clasping a hand to the side of his face. He knew that Mo was not someone who took to unexpected things well, especially when it involved being restrained in some way.

Mo laughed, able to tell that he was hooked on their story. “So, yeah, that went as well as you would imagine. I bit him really hard, and now his poor hand is all bruised. Thankfully, it was the hand that he wears his glove on, so I didn’t break any fingers. Still, I’m not sure if he really sees me as a precious little angel,” they finished in a mocking tone.

Lucius scoffed, shaking his head, but dropped the subject.

“How are you going to drop this big of a bomb on me and then not let me talk about it with anyone?” he whined. “This is so not fair.” “Hey, at least you can be with your partner publicly,” Mo shot back. “And there is one person you can talk to it about, other than me, of course. Frenchie already knows.” Lucius nodded. “That makes sense. Should have guessed you’d have told your bestie.” Mo blushed. “Well, yeah. But I actually didn’t get the chance to tell him anything.” Lucius raised an eyebrow as they scratched their head. “He…kind of walked in on us.” He gasped. “Not doing anything!” they rushed to add. “We were just cuddling in Izzy’s room, sleeping, and Frenchie came looking for me. He had woken up and couldn’t find me, and he was worried because he knew I was upset when I came to bed. He knew Izzy was the last person to see me, so he went to ask him if he knew anything, and…I was there when he knocked on his door.”

Lucius grinned. “You dirty dog,” he fake chastised, slowly shaking his head.

Mo rolled their eyes, playing along. “Oh please, like you haven’t done worse.” “That’s fair, I do get my fair share.” He paused. “This is going to be hard for you, you know,” he said, his voice softer then before. “It would be hard enough being with him if you could be open about your relationship, but especially if you have to keep it a secret for that one to keep his job.” Mo nodded. “Yeah, I know. But it’s worth it.” They blushed, looking down at their boots. “I really do like him a lot,” they admitted.

Lucius slung an arm around their shoulders, leading them towards the door leading out to the hallway. “I know, babe. I’ve been telling you for a while.” Mo laughed, letting themselves be guided back up to the deck to be with the rest of the crew.

#izzy hands #ofmd #izzy hands x oc #izzy hands x reader #ofmd izzy #original character #my writing

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thesmokingguns · 2 years

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Jealous Love (Short)

The softness of her yawn, hiding behind her hand and then rubbing at sleepy eyes. It was all such mundane movements but here was Izzy, hooked on the softness of a girl. As he watched her Axl watched him, the smirk of a man who knew his friend better than either of them would ever admit to.

“Hey, sweet pea.” Izzy clenched his fists as her sleepy smile was directed at him, “Cmere, I don’t mind letting you sleep on me.” It was approaching 2am and they shouldn’t be hanging around the venue any longer. They should be headed to the bus for the next city.

Izzy wanted to speak up but instead of saying they should head out words tumbled from his lips that made her eyes narrow in frustration.

“If you can’t keep up with us why don’t you head home where your mommy can tuck you into bed.” He heard the words and the snip in his voice as he said them. The makeup artist at 22 had lived on her own for six years already and the last thing she needed was some man barely older than her to give her any guff.

“Hey Izzy, how’s your girlfriend?” The silence backstage was loud as she slid onto the sofa, her head going into Axl’s lap as she turned her back to the rest of the band. Axl’s fingers ran through her hair and it was just the icing on the anger cake.

It was common knowledge that before they left LA Izzy had walked in on his girlfriend with her lips around someone else’s cock. He wasn’t hurt by the breakup but the mention of it had him embarrassed.

His feelings of frustration only heightened when he watched Axl’s hand slide into her hair, his fingers twirling around a strand as he spoke softly and looked at her, the private conversation in front of everyone so intimate that Izzy wanted to punch the singer in the face.

The whole band knew he had a crush on their young photographer. No one was brave enough to say anything to the guitarist about his feelings but he pined over her so flagrantly that they were sure everyone but her knew.

Axl rubbed his thumb over her cheek and laughed before looking up, eyes on his guitarist as if challenging the man to say anything about the position. Axl well aware that the man was wishing that he was in the lead singer position.

“She’s asleep so try to be quiet.” Izzy’s fingers tightened so hard that his fingers cracked at the lead singers words. The fury that engulfed him as he tried not to scream in the mans face or just in general to wake up the girl who was asleep, “You know, if you weren’t such a stubborn asshole this could be you.” Axl was rubbing salt in the wound.

Izzy was grinding his teeth quiet as he tried not to say anything to add fuel to the fire. His eyes were closed as he thought about how good it would feel to punch the lead singer in the mouth. He could imagine the feeling of his teeth hitting his knuckles, the way blood would pour from his mouth. It was the only thing calming him down.

“Why would I want that?” Izzy asked, Axl laughed, sitting back and then looking down to rub the head of the girl who was laying there. A soft shhh had Izzy’s blood pressure bubbling, :Why are you fucking babying her?” it made him furious but the lead singer knew it wasn’t just anger at the situation.

It was all jealousy.

“Because someone needs to take care of her, Izzy. You don’t seem like you want to and she’s had a hard life. Why would you want to make it harder?” Axl being right was always the worst thing in the world to Izzy. It always drove him insane when the redhead had that glow of being the one who was correct.

Izzy also knew that he was right and he couldn’t talk about it. Why would he give the singer the satisfaction in knowing he wanted her?

“Fuck you.” she twicted in her sleep and they boy looked down at her. Izzy reached out touching her head and feeling a soft thrill rise up as she sighed out falling back asleep.

His hand lingered on her sleeping, the softness of the girl and the way she looked like shew as at peace. He almost forgot that she was on his singers lap until another hand rubbed her hair and he jerked back.

Fucking Axl.

#Izzy Stradlin #Izzy Stradlin fan fic

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flkmoresluvr · 1 year

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All These Nights We're Spending ( Izzaxl Oneshot )

summary: Axl and Izzy drunkingly realize they have feelings for each other but both are scared and have no clue on how to go about it.

disclaimer: not proofread nor grammatically corrected. still very new to the whole idea of writing about the guns n roses members but i am trying my best. hope you enjoy!!!

The two men stumbled on top of the apartment building, bottles of liquor in hand but neither were tipsy. At least they managed to convince themselves they weren’t but it was so obvious with how they could barely stand on their own two feet, clinging onto each other as they finally managed to reach the top. Plopping down against the side of the brick wall, unable to hold back the giggles that leave their mouths.

A slight breeze blew through, causing Axl to shiver. “Shit. If I knew it was gonna be cold, I woulda asked that hot blonde for her coat.” He sets the bottle of whiskey between his legs to wrap both his arms around himself as Izzy sits next to him, luckily with a coat on.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, I can warm ya up.” Izzy says in a tone that tries to convince himself that he was just joking. Maybe it was the alcohol that’s got his feelings all jumbled up, has him feeling something for Axl. Something that goes way further than just two good friends who’ve known each other for years.

Axl laughs at his words and suddenly Izzy feels hurt, maybe he wasn’t joking after all. He takes a deep breath, slowly wrapping his arm around him and tugging him closer.

Izzy can feel Axl’s body tense up, he knows that he’s not used to physical touch. Especially not from one of his closest friends but Izzy was just trying to help. He uses his other hand to pick up the bottle of liquor and chug it. No longer feeling the familiar burn down his throat.

Seconds pass and Axl slowly melts into Izzy’s touch, he rests his head on his shoulder for a second. Only to see how it felt, see if it would relax himself even more and he was surprised it did. Physical touch was never his thing but there was something about Izzy that made him feel . . . at peace.

Axl is confused by the giddy feeling in the pit of his gut, surely it was the alcohol? Not a chance. He’s been drunk plenty of times and not one second did he feel this weird emotion, this was more like the one he felt when a woman would compliment him.

No, this wasn’t possible. He couldn’t feel this way towards his best friend, this was Izzy for crying out loud.

“What’s got you in deep thought?” Izzy says quietly, still drinking away on his bottle of liquor as Axl kept his head on his shoulder. Debating on pulling away but he enjoyed feeling the others warmth, then again he didn’t enjoy the troubled feeling in his gut.

“Uh . . . nothing. Just thinking about how I’m gonna get home.” Axl lied, his voice coming out as shaky and Izzy picks up on it but doesn’t point it out.

Instead, he says. “You can crash here, not a problem.”

Axl can feel the heat in his cheeks, he swallows slowly. “You don’t mind?” He’s not even sure why he said that, they have spent many nights at each other's place but this time would be different. Very different.

“Nope. Figured you were staying over when you agreed to drink with me.” Izzy laughs, his hand now moving up and down on Axl’s arm and the motion makes the giddy feeling come back again.

“We should head back down, It’s getting late and we have that thing with Duff tomorrow.” Axl breaks the silence, grabbing the bottle of liquor that was resting between his legs and standing up with the help of Izzy.

Izzy had better control of his balance, he gripped onto Axl tightly. Afraid that the other would fall over if he let go, then . . . Izzy notices the burgundy cheeks. His pupils dilated as he stared back at the other but his eyes lingered down to the redheads lips and how he has the sudden urge to kiss him.

It was abrupt. The kiss. Izzy’s lips were still coated with the liquor, now pressed against Axl’s nippy ones. For a second neither one of them knew what to do next, other than to enjoy the feel of their lips against one another but then it clicked. Izzy nudged his nose against the others and their mouths moved against each other in such a slow painful pace, his tongue grazing over the redhead's bottom lip.

Earning a small whimper from Axl, Izzy pulled him closer til his own back was against the wall. His hands placed directly on his sides and Axl still had his hand on the bottle of liquor that was threatening to drop any moment now but with his other, he gripped onto the coat that the other was wearing.

Their heartbeats in sync as their chests were pressed against each other firmly, both men panting heavily and without a single word, Axl pulled away. His cheeks flushed with swollen lips that were covered in not only the taste of Izzy but the liquor he was drinking.

Neither one of them knew what to do. Axl, standing there, his mind racing about the possibility of their friendship being over and Izzy, oh, he’s wanting to kiss him again.

But instead, he clears his throat and interlocks his arm with Axl’s arm, knowing that it wouldn’t be possible for either one of them to make it back downstairs to his apartment. “Let’s head back down.” He says casually, as if they never kissed.

And Axl’s heart is beating out of his chest, he slowly nods his head as they both begin walking down the stairs. It seemed longer to get down than it was for the time to get up here.

Izzy pushes open the door, eyebrows furrowed slightly after realizing that he forgot to lock it. He leads the redhead to the couch, grabbing the blanket that was tossed on the back and pulling it over Axl.

“I’ll be back, I gotta piss.” He mumbles, wandering off in the dark and stumbling to find his bathroom. Which he did without hitting the cold floor, once the door closed, Izzy ran his fingers through his hair and internally freaked out. How could he not? He crossed the line tonight, they both did and he wasn't exactly ready to talk about their future together tonight but he had to face Axl.

Izzy finished his business then tumbled back into the living room, turning on the tiny lamp on the side table to see better. "I . . . " He pauses mid sentence, glancing down at the redhead on the couch who is passed out. His head leaded back in an uncomfortable position with the blanket swallowing him whole and Izzy just shakes his head.

With a soft touch, Izzy places his hands under the others body to straighten him out on the couch and pulling the blanket back over him. His eyes examines his body, stopping at the boots that were still on his feet. Poor drunken mess didn't even bother to take his shoes off. He sighs, leaning down to take them off and tossing them towards the front door. If Axl even had a small ounce of memory about tonight, Izzy would expect him to be gone before he even woke up.

"There you go." Izzy quietly says to himself, patting the others leg gently. Now standing up, he walks over to the side table and shuts off the lamp. He pauses for a second, his eyes lingering over his best friend's unconscious body. A weird pang in his chest, this could be there last moments of being civil. As much as Axl wanted to kiss Izzy back, he knew himself that he would never be able to admit that he has feelings for him. Let alone another man.

"Goodnight, Axl."

#axl rose #writing #guns n roses #izzy stradlin #izzaxl #mlm #gnr #male x male #80s #90s #rock #oneshot

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dragonmuse · 2 years

Note

Are there any Revenge-family siblings we haven’t met or heard about? We’ve seen the Hands siblings and the Boodhari siblings and obviously Alma and Charlie, but does anyone else have siblings who haven’t shown up in the stories yet? There are a lot of confirmed only children and the only sibling I can think of off the top of my head who has been alluded to but not shown up is Faith’s sister who was the one who gave Izzy her ring after she died.

( There may be, but they haven't made themselves known to me yet! But in the meantime, here's someone I never thought I'd write about)

Pru Morris was walking away. It wasn’t the first time. At eighteen, she’d walked away from her parents' house with just the contents of her carefully packed messenger bag in boots that belonged to a dead girl. Those boots had carried her to her first three dead end jobs and then, at last, to a big accounting firm where an executive called her ‘assistant’ and meant ‘surrogate wife’.

For three years, Pru handled everything in the man’s life, including his actual wife. She never slept with him, but it was a close thing once or twice. The second winter, the boots had died at last with the sole slipping from the right one. She probably could’ve fixed them, but it felt right to put away childish things. She’d never even liked them really. But she didn’t throw them away, just tucked them in her closet and forgot about them.

Then the man got promoted and got a new assistant. Pru was handed over to the new man without ceremony. It was a silent divorce that she felt in bones, and she forced herself to start dating again to make up for it.

Drew Morris was fine. He had a good job, a good car, and he took her to nice dinners. He wasn’t flashy, but he was steady. When he proposed a few months later, it was with a decent ring and she said yes without much further thought.

The honeymoon was beautiful. Days in the sun and he held her hand and Pru felt loved for the first time in a long time. But then they got back and the handholding stopped. For a while, she was sure she’d done better than her mother at least. Drew never raised his hand to her, rarely yelled.

But he also barely looked at her, barely spoke to her at all. On her birthday, every year he had a bouquet sent to her at work and every year, the card was the same tucked among the blooms. Pru knew his assistant had ordered them. It was the same message she had chosen for her executives a dozen times.

“How pretty!” One of the other girls at worked cooed. “You’re so lucky!”

“Lucky that someone else keeps his calendar,” she said flatly. It was year four.

Pru Morris was twenty-nine years old. She was sitting in her bedroom which was meant to be theirs, but Drew was away a lot. He told her to decorate it however she wanted, then wrinkled his nose when he’d seen what she’d done. ‘A little gaudy, isn’t it?” he’d said and all the pretty things she’d picked out became cheap and tatty all at once.

Maybe that was what she needed. A fresh take on the bedroom. She could redo it, get it right this time and maybe he’d want to linger. With a renewed sense of purpose, Pru got a garbage bag and started pulling things out of her closet that she hadn’t worn in a while. She’d do a purge, donate some things and get started on a fresh vision.

At the back of the closet, she found a pair of black boots. The right heel had come away on one. Pru fell to her knees and drew them out. Without any thought, she pulled them to her chest and started crying. The tears shocked her. Pru was not a weeper. She hadn’t cried on her wedding day or the day her executive dumped her. But today she wept over the broken leather and rubber, holding the boots to her as tenderly as a baby.

“Fuck him,” she realized as she held them tight to her. Pru didn’t swear, crisp memory of her father shoving soap into her mouth had ripped all that away. Even she said ‘heck’ she’d remember the horrible taste and his hand fisted in her hair.

But she didn’t taste soap right now. Just her own ears. “FUCK HIM!” she stood abruptly, letting the shoes cascade down. Then she went and got her suitcase and filled it with the few thing she cared about, some clothes and her toiletries. She ripped off her perfectly nice ring and left it on top of a note that was much politer than she wanted to be. She had her own money, carefully hoarded. Drew had been so afraid of her siphoning off his money that he insisted on separate accounts. Asshole.

She got a studio a few blocks from work. Cramped, but her own again. She put the boots by the front door as a reminder. For good luck, she’d tap her toes against them as she went out the door to meet her lawyer.

In the end there was no fight and she got plenty of Drew’s money anyway. Enough that she could sustain herself in the studio for as long as she liked. For a few months, she stayed at work, talked like everything was normal and only mentioned the divorce if asked where her ring had gone. People fussed like she should be melting down, made sympathetic noises, asked if he had cheated.

She just shook her head and said, “Just went our separate ways.” A few of the women stopped talking to her, but Jenny from the front desk and had groaned and said, “I KNOW that feeling.”

They went out for drinks. Jenny was raw and funny and Pru had no idea why they’d never talked before. She was divorced too and was happy to talk to Pru about every dating service under the sun. They went speed dating together and laughed over the awkwardness afterwards. Pru had had a lot of ‘friends’ over the years, but Jenny felt like a real friend.

“Hey, there’s a three bedroom opening up in my building, what do you think?” Jenny offered. “Get you out of that bachelorette special and me away from my horrible roommate?”

The apartment got a lot of light and Jenny was a good roommate. They hung out a lot, but also gave each other space. And the first birthday Pru had in the apartment, Jenny gave her a framed print of the poster for A Walk to Remember, Pru’s favorite movie. Pru had cried for the second time in as many years. Jenny had hugged her and not judged.

“Hey, is it okay if I move these?” Jenny asked when they were both on a cleaning kick. The boots sat by the door still.

“No!” Pru said then winced.

“I don’t mean away,” Jenny assured her. “I got us a shoe rack. Is that okay”

“You did?”

“Mhm, so we don’t have the water dripping onto the hardwood, there’s a mat that goes under it.”

“Yeah okay.”

Jenny set the boots on the lower rack, noticed the broken sole.

“They were my sister’s,” Pru blurted, the words no longer able to stay behind her teeth.

“You have a sister?” Jenny’s eyes went wide.

“She died. When we were still kids.”

“Oh wow, that must’ve been awful.”

“We didn’t get along,” Pru twisted her hands together in front of her. “Fought all the time like everyone else in that house, but I figured we were sisters, you know? It’d work out. It always did on tv. And then she just died. Mom and Dad tried to toss all her things, but I got a few. I didn’t even know why...I was fifteen. Just seemed wrong to make her disappear like that. She had his thug boyfriend, took her ring from me. My parents took her bedding, her cassettes, most of her clothes and just tossed them. I hid her boots under my bed. Grabbed her hair brush too, but I lost it somewhere along the way.”

“Oh, Pru,” Jenny hugged her and she hugged back. The boots stayed on the shoe rack.

Dead at seventeen. Pru was thirty-one. It could happen, she thought as she tapped the boots with her toe each morning. She tapped them the day she changed back her name. She tapped them the day she saw the poster for an interior design class. She tapped them the day she got her certificate and the day she headed out to meet her first client.

No one ever called her work gaudy.

“You’re a miracle worker,” Patrick said when he walked into his new kitchen. “This is exactly what I wanted.”

“You had a really clear vision,” she told him eagerly. Patrick was on the short side, closer to her height and his hair was thinning a little. He dressed beautifully though and had poured over samples with her just as invested as some of her female clients.

He was divorced too, pictures of a daughter scattered around the apartment and a bedroom set aside for her visits.

“You’re great at visions, Pru,” he told her eagerly. He paid her and as soon as the check was in her walled, he said, “This is probably really inappropriate and I hope I’m not putting you on the spot, but would you...get dinner with me some time?”

“I’d like that,” she beamed and she did like it. They both kept their places and Jenny teased her about being ‘the other woman’.

“You’ve got it wrong. He’s the other woman,” Pru announced and then Jenny cried on her, which made things feel a little more even.

Pru Callahan wasn’t walking away from her past any more. She was running towards the future. And she’d need some sturdy boots for that. With her heart in her throat, she brought them to be repaired and re-soled. That winter she spent every day in fashionable outfits, accessorized with vintage Docs.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #dear prudence

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