Forgot To Post This Yesterday Butttt It’s Never Too Late!! Slash Reposted This On His Instagram And

happy birthday izzy love u so fuckin much old man 😭😭😭💕💕💕

I see that you guys really enjoyed my birthday izzy story, so I decided to write another story, but this time it will be a series! It’s called “cry me a river”Lemme know if you guys like it 🤗

Cry Me a River Series~(izzy x reader)

Chapter one: Back Then

The soundcheck was chaos. Slash’s amp kept blowing out, Axl was late…again and Duff was already halfway through a bottle of vodka even though it wasn’t even 5 p.m.

Izzy found you behind the curtains, sitting cross-legged on the floor, twirling a guitar pick between your fingers. You wore his leather jacket even though it was too hot for it, but it smelled like him, cigarettes, sweat, and that earthy cologne he used sometimes when he remembered. You were tired, running on gas station coffee and tour-bus naps, but you still smiled when he crouched down in front of you.

“Hey,” he said, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “You okay?”

You nodded, even though you weren’t. The girls, the rumors, the phone calls he never returned when the band was in L.A. and you were stuck in New York. You told yourself none of it mattered as long as he came back to you.

He kissed your forehead like he always did after screwing up.

“I’ll make it up to you after the show, promise.”

You wanted to believe him.

God, you did.

Present Day~

The cafe was quiet, soft jazz playing from a speaker overhead. You were on your second espresso, scrolling through emails, when the door opened and you felt it, him… before you saw him.

Izzy Stradlin. Older, sure. A little worn down, a little less wild. But still him. Still dangerous in a quiet, slow-smile kind of way. He looked like the past, wrapped in denim and regret.

“Hey,” he said, voice low like he was scared to scare you off.

You didn’t stand up. Didn’t smile.

Instead, you stirred your coffee slowly, eyes locked on his.

“You’ve got some nerve,” you said calmly. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, hand in his pocket, eyes flickering with something he wasn’t saying.

“I was in town. Thought I’d see you.”

You laughed, dry, sharp. Like the sound of a glass cracking.

“You saw me. Now what?”

He looked stunned for a second, like he expected you to fall into his arms. Like time hadn’t passed. Like you hadn’t spent years learning how to forget the sound of his voice.

“You look good,” he muttered.

You leaned back in your chair, tilted your head, and gave him a look so cold it could’ve frozen the air between you.

“I am good.”

So do you also accept smutty, kinky requests for Steven Adler x reader fics? Because you've never mentioned him before, so I figured i'd ask first 🫣

Yesss! Also, let me know if you’d like it to be a short or long fic orrr if you want multiple parts.

Cry me a river series~ izzy x reader

Chapter two: Ghost Notes😬

Back Then – 1989

It was Vegas, and it was loud. Neon signs, fans screaming, the sound of your own heart cracking beneath the surface.

Izzy hadn’t come back to the hotel that night.

You waited. Curled up on the stiff bed with your boots still on and the TV flickering static in the background. You’d stared at the ceiling so long it started to look like it was moving.

When he finally showed, it was 5 a.m. He looked like hell. Smelled like perfume and smoke and something too sweet to be innocent.

He froze when he saw you awake. “Didn’t think you’d still be up.”

You didn’t say anything.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, ran a hand through his tangled hair. “It’s not what it looks like”.

You snorted, bitter and tired. “You don’t even know what I think it looks like”.

He turned his head toward you slowly, as if hoping the dark would hide the guilt in his eyes.

“Maybe I don’t wanna know.”

You stood up, grabbed your bag, and headed for the door. You didn’t even know where you were going, just that you needed out before you said something you’d regret.

“Where the hell are you going?” he asked, voice sharp now.

“Out,” you said without turning around. “Maybe I’ll find someone who knows how to keep their promises.”

Now ~Present Day

You didn’t mean to see him again.

But three days later, he was waiting outside your building. Leaning against the hood of an old car like something out of a music video, cool, casual, and completely out of place in your carefully rebuilt life.

You stopped on the sidewalk, arms full of groceries, heart pounding like a drum solo in your chest.

“Izzy,” you said, flat and cold. “What are you doing here?”

He straightened up, hands in his pockets again, just like before.

“I owed you more than just walking into that cafe.”

You walked right past him toward the door. “You owe me a hell of a lot more than that.”

“I know,” he said quietly, following a few steps behind. “I just… I didn’t know how to fix it.”

You turned around so fast he almost bumped into you. “So you ran? Typical.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t. But now you’re here, dragging ghosts out of closets I locked up a long time ago.”

His jaw clenched, and for a second, he looked almost like he used to, raw, haunted, beautiful in that broken way.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he said. “I just want to talk.”

You stared at him. Really stared.

“You should’ve thought about talking then,” you whispered. “When I needed you. When I begged you not to shut me out.”

The wind picked up, rustling your coat, your hair. He didn’t move. He just looked at you like he didn’t know how to breathe anymore.

“I’m not the girl you left behind,” you said. “So if you’re looking for her, go find someone else to haunt.”

You turned and walked inside.

And this time, he didn’t follow.

Duff reposted it on his story! Slash and the gnr page made a happy birthday post about izzy aswell 😊

Hey, can you write an imagine where Y/N cheats on Izzy with Slash. When Izzy finds out, he is heartbroken, breaks up with her, and falls into a heavy alcohol addiction. Only then does Y/N realize how much she loved him and tries to win him back.

Including angst and fluff please, make it real long please ♡

Yess I gotchu! Sorry it’s late, I’ve been sick for the past week, but I finally finished it yay me! Hope you enjoy :) btw I have an alternate ending that I did for this, so if you want it let me know!

Damaged💔❤️‍🩹

Izzy Stradlin x reader

(featuring Slash | themes: betrayal, addiction, heartbreak, regret)

Warning ‼️ (angst, fluff, kinda long)

Y/N POV~

I never meant for it to happen. That sounds like bullshit, I know, but I didn’t. One minute, I was drunk, laughing too loud at one of Slash’s dumb stories, and the next, I was in his hotel room, tangled in sheets that didn’t smell like Izzy. They smelled like smoke and sweat and betrayal.

And now here I am, sitting on the floor of Izzy’s apartment, my back against the cold wall, knees pulled to my chest, wishing I could claw the last 48 hours out of existence. He hasn’t said a word in hours. Just paces. Back and forth. Back and forth. Like he’s trying to walk it off, like heartbreak is something you can sweat out.

“Izzy…” My voice is small, and I hate that. I used to speak and make his head turn. Now I sound like a ghost.

He finally stops and looks at me. Really looks. Eyes red, jaw tight, that wild black hair falling into his face like it always does. Except now he doesn’t brush it away. He just stares, like he’s seeing me for the first time. Or maybe like he wishes he wasn’t seeing me at all.

“You fucked Slash.”

There’s no question in his voice.

I open my mouth to speak, to explain, though I have no explanation worth a damn, but he cuts me off before I can try.

“You fucked him, Y/N.”

“I was drunk”

So was I! Every night for the last four years. You don’t see me climbing into someone else’s bed.” His voice cracks, and that’s worse than if he screamed. I’d rather he throw a lamp or smash a guitar than break like this.

“Izzy, I’m sorry…”

He turns away.

And just like that, I know it’s over.

I didn’t see him for weeks after that. The guys said he’d holed up somewhere in L.A., sleeping on a friend’s couch, bottle always in reach. Sometimes it was whiskey. Sometimes vodka. Once, it was cough syrup and Coke.

Slash didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to. The smirk he gave me backstage after a show said everything. I was just another notch. Another story he’d laugh about. Another mistake.

But Izzy? I ruined him.

I started hearing things. That he missed rehearsals. That he’d fallen asleep during a recording session. That Axl threatened to kick him out if he didn’t pull it together. Duff tried to help, but even he was at a loss. “He loved you,” he told me once, shaking his head. “He really fucking loved you.”

I knew. God, I knew.

The first time I saw him again, it was pouring. The rain was heavy and mean, like it was trying to drown the whole damn city. I waited outside The Viper Room, soaked and shaking, because someone said he might show up. And he did.

He didn’t recognize me at first.

Or maybe he just didn’t want to.

“Hey,” I said, breathless when I saw him, cigarette dangling from his lips, coat clinging to his shoulders, eyes bloodshot.

He blinked. “Y/N?”

“Izzy… I need to talk to you.”

He just stared, swaying slightly, the smell of alcohol clinging to him like a second skin. “Talk? Now you want to talk?”

“I miss you.”

He laughed. It was empty. Hollow. “You miss me? What part? The part before or after you fucked my bandmate?”

I flinched. “I made a mistake.”

“You made a choice.”

We stood there in silence, rain hitting the sidewalk like a metronome. I reached for him.

“Don’t.”

His voice wasn’t angry this time. Just tired. Broken.

“I’m not okay,” I said softly.

“Neither am I,” he whispered. “And that’s because of you.”

I didn’t give up.

Call me pathetic. Call me delusional. But I loved him. I love him. And I couldn’t let it end like that. I started writing him letters. Leaving voicemails. Waiting outside shows. I became the girl I used to roll my eyes at, clingy, desperate, hopeful.

Weeks passed.

Then one night, I heard a knock on my door.

I opened it and nearly collapsed.

“Izzy…”

He looked different. Thinner. Tired. But there was something in his eyes I hadn’t seen in a long time, clarity.

“I can’t sleep,” he said.

I stepped aside.

We didn’t talk much that night. We didn’t need to. He lit a cigarette and sat on my bed, fingers trembling just a little. I watched him. Studied him. Every line of his face. Every bruise I left on his heart.

“I still dream about you,” he said finally. “But in the dream, you always leave.”

“I’m here now.”

He looked at me. Long and hard. Then set the cigarette down and stood.

And when he kissed me, it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire and pain and everything we never said. His hands were rough, callused, trembling. He pinned me to the wall, his mouth hot on my neck, his voice a low growl in my ear.

You ruined me,” he said, breath hot as he lifted my shirt. “You fucking ruined me.”

“I know,” I whispered.

He kissed me again, harder this time, like he wanted to forget. Like he wanted to punish me. Maybe he did. Maybe I deserved it.

Clothes fell to the floor. His body pressed against mine, hot and heavy, every thrust a reminder of what we had, what we lost. He held my wrists above my head, lips on my collarbone, moaning my name like it hurt.

“I hate you,” he gasped against my mouth.

“No, you don’t.”

And I was right, because he came undone with my name on his lips, burying his face in my shoulder as we collapsed together.

Fast forward ~

It had been almost a year since the night izzy came over.

Twelve months of silence, of blocked numbers, of showing up to the studio just to hear he’d left five minutes earlier. I had written letters. Sent messages he never opened. I even showed up at his old apartment once. Slash answered the door.

“You’re the last person he wants to see,” he said coldly, before slamming it in my face.

Izzy had fallen deep into it, alcohol, bar fights, late nights with women whose names he didn’t bother to learn. I heard the stories. Everyone did. He was burning out and didn’t care who watched.

But I still loved him. That never changed. Even as guilt gnawed away at me like rot under the skin.

And then one night, I found him.

Passed out in a back booth at some shitty dive off Sunset. Guitar case on the table, empty bottle in front of him. He looked like a ghost, pale, thinner, eyes sunken like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“Izzy,” I said, crouching beside him. My hand touched his shoulder. He flinched hard.

His eyes opened, bloodshot and slow to focus. “Why the hell are you here?”

“I needed to see you. I’m worried.”

He sat up, barely. “A little late for worry, sweetheart.”

“I know I hurt you,” I whispered. “But I love you. I never stopped.”

He looked at me, really looked, and I could see it all behind his eyes. The pain. The love. The memories.

“I believe that,” he said finally, voice hoarse. “And it doesn’t matter.”

My throat tightened. “Izzy…”

“You broke something in me. And no matter how much I want to pretend I can forgive you, I can’t.” He reached for his bottle, found it empty, and dropped it with a thud. “I hope you figure your shit out someday. But you and me? We’re done.”

And that was it.

He stood and walked away, guitar slung over his shoulder like a war wound. I didn’t chase him.

Because maybe this was how it was supposed to end.

Requested✨✨

The Babysitter🧖‍♀️

Warning ‼️ (Enemies to Lovers, lots of banter😏, smex ofc)

Hey y’all! So I was supposed to post this last night, but I fell asleep whoopsies @slashduffizzysgf hehe. So, here’s a lil something to kick your morning off! This story is kinda long so hope y’all enjoy. Oh btw if anyone has requests you can always put it in the submission box or just message me directly 😊

Duff McKagan x Sassy Babysitter aka Y/N

Y/N POV

You weren’t expecting to spend your afternoon in the McKagan household babysitting their little girl. You’d gotten a call earlier in the week from a family friend of theirs, who mentioned their daughter, Lily, needed a sitter for the day. What they didn’t mention was their 21-year-old son, Duff.

You had met some of the most outrageous rockstars in your life, guys with egos as big as their fame, but this guy? This guy was something different.

When you first arrived, the house was quiet, almost eerily so, and you thought maybe you’d hit the jackpot with a peaceful gig. That was until Lily fell asleep for her nap, and you heard it. Guitar riffs, loud drums, and the unmistakable sound of chaos above.

Curious, and with no plans of leaving early, you decided to investigate. You followed the sounds of the ruckus up the stairs, to a room at the end of the hall. You knocked lightly, but it didn’t stop the music. So you pushed the door open, just a crack, enough to peek inside.

The sight before you was nothing short of rockstar madness. Duff McKagan, guitar in hand, was standing in front of a drum kit where a guy, presumably his bandmate Steven, was going absolutely wild on the drums.

Duff was lean, tall, and dressed in a way that screamed “rock ‘n’ roll”, black leather pants, spiked bracelets, black tank top, and cowboy boots. His messy, blonde hair cascaded over his eyes, but even from the doorway, you could see his confident grin.

When he finally noticed you in the doorway, his strumming slowed, and he tilted his head back, catching your eyes. “You the babysitter?” he asked, his voice deep and dripping with that cocky charm you’d come to expect from rockstars.

“Yeah. Didn’t realize you were part of the deal,” you said with a dry smile. “But you mind turning it down a little? I’m trying to enjoy some peace and quiet.”

Steven, sitting behind the drums, chuckled under his breath, but Duff’s smile only grew wider. “Peace and quiet? I think you’ve got the wrong house, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” you shot back, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in your voice. “I’ll just go grab a drink or something.”

But Duff wasn’t letting you off that easy. “Nah, don’t go just yet. It’s rare I get someone with this much… attitude,” he said with a grin. “Stick around. I won’t bite.”

“You sure about that?” you countered, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I’m not so sure you can handle all this attitude.”

Duff let out a low laugh, amused by your defiance. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart. I’ve handled much worse than you.”

“Careful now, McKagan,” you shot back. “I’m not the one you want to mess with.”

“Not even a little?” he raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your sass.

You met his gaze head-on, not backing down. “Not even a little.”

Before either of you could exchange more words, Steven finished his solo and glanced over at you. “You’re a lot more interesting than this guy,” he teased, grinning at you before looking at Duff. “Maybe we should give her a lesson or two.”

“Yeah, that’s real funny,” Duff muttered, rolling his eyes but never breaking his confident grin. He’d definitely been in situations like this before, but something about you kept pulling his attention. He finally broke away from his instrument, his gaze not leaving yours. “Alright, fine. You want peace and quiet? I’ll give you a little.”

You thought the exchange was over. It wasn’t.

After a while, Steven left, and you were left alone with Duff. You were trying to keep the babysitting gig going, making sure Lily stayed asleep, but Duff’s presence was making it impossible to concentrate. The house felt too quiet now, and the tension between you both simmered under the surface.

Duff, having not taken his eyes off you, moved closer. “Still here? I figured you’d be out by now.”

“I have a job to do, you know?” you replied, turning toward him with a sly smile. “Some of us actually work.”

He leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms. “You know, I’ve always found that people with your kind of attitude are the most fun to break.”

You scoffed, keeping your ground. “You can try, but good luck. You’ll need it.”

“You’re a stubborn one, huh?” he teased, taking a step closer to you. The air between you grew thicker as he closed the distance. “I like that.”

“Don’t get too cocky, McKagan. You won’t win me over that easily.”

“I’m not trying to win you over,” he replied with a confident grin. “I’m just trying to have a little fun.”

At that moment, the tension cracked. Before you knew it, Duff was pulling you closer, his lips crashing onto yours. The kiss was everything: raw, passionate, and daring. You pulled away for a second, catching your breath, but when he leaned in again, you couldn’t help yourself. Something about him…the cocky attitude, the relentless charm, made you want to see just how far this could go.

You didn’t know how long it had been before the sound of a door creaking open and the tiny steps of Lily waking up brought you back to reality.

“Shit,” you muttered, pulling away from him. “I gotta—”

Duff raised a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. “We won’t wake her. Don’t worry.”

You didn’t know how long it had been before the creak of a door down the hall reminded you that Lily was just a few rooms away. You broke the kiss, breathless, your hand flat against Duff’s chest. “We shouldn’t…”

Duff didn’t budge, just smirked as he leaned in again, voice low and rough. “She’s out. You really wanna stop now?”

Your eyes narrowed, heart racing as his fingers teased the hem of your shirt. “If she wakes up, you’re explaining why I didn’t answer the damn phone.”

He chuckled, cocky and calm. “Fine. I’ll just tell them you were… busy.”

You shoved him back slightly, but it only made him grin harder. “God, you’re such an ass.”

“Yeah?” he rasped, pushing you gently back onto the mattress. “You didn’t seem to mind a second ago.”

His hands slid under your shirt, mouth hot on your neck as he murmured, “Still don’t hear you telling me to stop.”

You bit your lip, stubborn as ever, even as your hips lifted to meet his. “Don’t think this means you’ve got me, McKagan.”

He kissed you hard, all teeth and heat. “Nah, sweetheart. Just means you’ve got terrible self-control.”

You moaned against his mouth, gripping the back of his hair as you whispered, “You talk too much.”

“Then shut me up,” he growled, and you did, pulling him back in, every touch daring him to try and tame you.

He was cocky, relentless, and way too full of himself.

But you?

You weren’t about to make this easy.

He groaned against your mouth as you pulled him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist like second nature.

Duff broke the kiss just long enough to look down at you, flushed and breathless beneath him, a smug tilt to his lips. “You sure you’re not gonna start crying halfway through and tell me this was a mistake?”

You snorted, tugging on his shirt until it was over his head and tossed somewhere across the room. “You wish you were that unforgettable.”

He laughed, low and rough. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna be walking funny tomorrow.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, biting back a smile as he dipped his head to your neck again, teeth scraping lightly at the spot that made you gasp. “You seriously never shut up, do you?”

“Nope,” he said smugly, voice muffled against your skin. “But you like it.”

You tried to retort, but your thoughts scattered the moment his hand slipped past the waistband of your jeans, fingers finding just how ready you were for him. You hissed in a breath, and that damn smirk of his returned.

“Well, well,” he murmured, teasing but dark with desire. “And here you were acting like I wasn’t getting to you.”

You gripped his hair, tugging just enough to make him look at you. “I still don’t like you.”

“Sure,” he breathed, eyes locked with yours as he popped your button and dragged your jeans down. “Say that again after I’m inside you.”

Your breath caught at the sound of his zipper, the shift of fabric, the weight of him settling between your thighs.

“Duff…” you warned, trying to sound firm even as your body betrayed you, arching into him, heat pooling low in your belly.

He ran his nose along your jaw, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Just say the word, baby. Or stop me now.”

You didn’t. Couldn’t.

Instead, you pulled him down, lips crashing into his like you were trying to burn away every inch of the tension between you. He didn’t waste another second. He shoved his cock in slowly, watching every expression flicker across your face with great satisfaction. He filled you up just enough to stretch, not enough to break.

Your breath came in shaky gasps, hands clutching his shoulders. “Shit…”

“Fuck, you feel good,” he growled, rolling his hips with a deep thrust that made you bite your lip to stay quiet. “Can’t wait to hear you when you’re not trying to be quiet.”

You were already close to snapping at him when—

RING. RING.

Your eyes flew open, panic flashing. “No. No. No—”

Duff froze, that shit-eating grin back on his face. “Guess who that is.”

You glared at him. “Don’t you dare.”

He reached over you, grabbed the cordless phone off his nightstand, and handed it to you with the smuggest look you’d ever seen.

“Answer it.”

“Duff—”

“Pick. It. Up,” he murmured, hips still pressed snug between your thighs.

You hesitated for a split second before snatching the phone from him and pressing it to your ear, trying to keep your voice level.

“H-Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N! Just checking in. Is Lily alright?”

Duff’s next thrust had your hand flying to his shoulder, nails digging in. You clapped your other hand over your mouth, eyes wide as he buried his face in your neck, biting back a groan as he moved again, slow, deep, and relentless.

You forced a shaky smile into your voice. “Yes. She’s… s-sleeping. Everything’s great.”

Duff chuckled softly against your skin, and you slapped his arm with the hand not holding the phone. He didn’t stop… of course he didn’t. He was enjoying every second of it. Watching you struggle to stay composed while he made it impossible.

“Are you sure?” his mom’s voice asked kindly. “You sound a little out of breath.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to moan. “Oh, uh—just went upstairs to check on her! That’s all. Everything’s fine, I swear.”

Duff grinned wickedly and pulled out almost completely, then slammed back in, watching as you choked on a gasp and smacked his arm again. “Asshole,” you mouthed.

“I’m so glad,” his mom continued. “Thanks again for helping us out, Y/N.”

“No problem!” you said quickly, voice an octave too high. “Happy to help! Okay—bye!”

You hung up and threw the phone at the foot of the bed.

“Done?” Duff asked, voice low and smug.

You shoved his shoulder. “I hate you.”

He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Then hate me harder.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before Duff dragged your mouth back to his. It wasn’t sweet or slow, he kissed you like he owned you, like he was still laughing at the way you squirmed through that phone call and didn’t regret a damn second of it.

His rhythm picked up, deep and steady, dragging another moan out of you that you had to muffle into his shoulder. His name slipped past your lips more than once, half-curses, half-whimpers, and every time you did, it only made him smirk harder.

“That’s right,” he muttered against your throat. “Say it again. Louder this time.”

You gritted your teeth, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Not a chance.”

Duff chuckled darkly. “Still playing stubborn, huh?” He shifted his angle, going deeper than he was before.

Your fingers clawed into his back as your body arched up into him. “God—Duff—”

“Yeah, there she is,” he growled, picking up the pace. “You gonna come for me, or you still pretending you don’t want to?”

“Shut up,” you gasped, nails raking down his shoulder blades. “You’re so full of yourself”

“I told you,” he panted, lips grazing your jaw. “You’d be the one begging. Not me.”

“Keep dreaming,” you snapped, even as your walls clenched around him.

He felt it, of course he did, and grinned against your mouth. “That feel like dreaming to you, baby?”

Your breath hitched as a wave of pleasure hit. You came hard, legs locking around his waist as you bit down on your lip to keep from crying out his name loud enough to wake the whole damn house. He cursed under his breath at the feel of it, hips losing rhythm as he was cumming too.

Duff came with a rough groan into your neck, arms tightening around you like he couldn’t get close enough. His cock was buried deep as he spilled into you, breath hot and uneven.

For a moment, all you could hear was the sound of both of you breathing hard, skin sticky and hearts still racing.

Then—

“Well,” you panted, pushing damp hair off your forehead. “That was… something.”

Duff lifted his head, hair wild, still catching his breath. That smug grin was already creeping back. “Don’t act like it wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had.”

You gave him a flat look. “You are so annoying.”

“And yet,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your collarbone, “you’re still under me.”

“Purely for scientific purposes,” you quipped. “Studying the effects of sleeping with a cocky dumbass.”

He laughed, that deep rasp of his filling the room. “Yeah? And what’s your conclusion, professor?”

You smirked, fingers playing with a strand of his hair. “That maybe I’ll let you do it again, if you behave.”

Duff raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, I don’t behave. But you’ll still be back.”

You pushed at his chest, even as a smile tugged at your lips. “You really think you’re that irresistible?”

He leaned in, lips brushing yours, his voice soft and teasing. “You tell me.”

You didn’t answer.

You just kissed him again.



Hi, I’m the anon who requested the Izzy fic, and I have to say—the alternate ending you wrote feels like the perfect setup for a continuation in a Slash fic😍. Could you please do that? I really love this ending because it seems like she could hook up with Slash again after this part:

~"'Slash let out a breathy chuckle. “He’ll get over it.” I turned on him, eyes burning. “You ruined everything.” He tilted his head. “No, sweetheart. You did.”~

Please let them become a couple after this but with slash being a bad boy😍

Hey anon! I gotchu!! Here is part one. I figured I would turn this story into a few parts because I want to take this into a messy direction. But, reader and slash will become a couple in the end so don’t worry lol. Hope you enjoy 😉

(Btw my inbox is open if anyone want to request a story or ask any questions)

Damaged… or not~ Part one

Slash x reader

Y/N POV~

“No, sweetheart. You did.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Because the truth stung more than his words. My throat burned, and I hated that it was Slash standing there looking at me like he’d won.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped finally.

“Like what?” he asked, stepping closer. “Like I’ve seen you fall apart before and I’m the only one who doesn’t lie to you about it?”

He was too close. The smell of cigarettes and whiskey clung to him like a second skin. His curls were half in his face, and that damn smirk he wore made it impossible to breathe.

“You think you’re better than Izzy?” I challenged.

Slash let out a low laugh, one of those husky, condescending ones that crawled up your spine and made you want to slap him and kiss him all at once.

“No,” he said. “I think I’m worse. But at least I don’t pretend.”

I hated that I was still standing there, trembling with whatever the hell this feeling was, rage, regret, maybe something worse. Or better.

He tilted his head again, the same way he had earlier, but this time his eyes dropped to my lips.

“Izzy’s not coming back,” Slash said, voice soft now. “You burned that bridge. But I’m still here. So what does that say?”

I stared at him. “That you don’t know when to quit.”

Slash stepped even closer, his body nearly brushing mine. “No, sweetheart. It says I know exactly when to stay.”

And just like that, I kissed him.

His hands were everywhere, rough and greedy, and mine weren’t any better. We were chaos and mistakes and something that felt too good to be right.

And when he finally pulled away, his lips were swollen, his grin crooked, and his voice low as he spoke.

“Careful,” he whispered against my ear. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’ll ruin you next.”

I didn’t care.

I think maybe I wanted to be ruined.

A few hours later…

I didn’t sleep.

I just laid there, staring at the ceiling, feeling like an idiot. Slash was passed out next to me, completely unbothered. Like what we did last night didn’t mean anything. Like it wasn’t messy as hell.

I pulled the sheet around me and sat up, trying to clear my head. My heart was still racing, and I felt sick, not from him, but from myself.

He shifted behind me, groaning. “Damn. You always this quiet in the morning?”

I didn’t answer.

He moved closer, his hand finding my thigh like it was no big deal. Like he had every right to touch me.

“I didn’t sleep,” I said.

He laughed a little. “You sure? You sounded pretty into it a few hours ago.”

I pulled away, annoyed. “You’re unbelievable.”

Slash sat up, resting on one elbow. “Why are you acting like this is some huge thing? It happened. So what?”

“This was a mistake.”

He didn’t even flinch. “You don’t really believe that.”

I got up, grabbing my clothes off the floor. “You kissed me right after Izzy left. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“So did you,” he said. “You didn’t stop me. You kissed me back.”

I froze for a second, then turned to face him. “Izzy’s gone, and now I’m here with you. That’s messed up.”

He stared at me. “Izzy walked away. I didn’t.”

“That doesn’t make you the good guy,” I said.

He stood up too, calm but serious now. “I never said I was the good guy. But at least I’m not the one pretending.”

I glared at him. “You ruined everything.”

Slash let out a breathy laugh. “No, sweetheart. You did.”

There he goes with that damn phrase again. I couldn’t even argue though because deep down, I knew he was right.

So so so so so so so fineee😩😩😩😩

Finally 19🎉🎉