Lagunned - C

rules & writing list.

hiya everyone! I just wanted to post some rules & general guidelines for my blog. i want you all to enjoy my work. if you are ever confused if a certain request is against my rules, don't be afraid to ask! i also upload my chapter(s) long fics on wattpad & AO3, which are linked below.

wattpad pinned AO3

✬ my most recent work; n/a.

✬ currently working on; n/a.

✬ my request box is currently; open.

✬ i am partial to writing smut, i can and will deny your request if i think i cannot write it properly or if it's illegal, non-con, unethical, etc.

✬ i do not write ship fics (character x character.)

✬ please do not spam my inbox with your request, i'll get to it as soon as possible!

i currently write for;

✧ twist and shout! the beatles

john lennon. paul mccartney. george harrison.

✧ used to love her... guns n' roses

axl rose. slash. duff mckagan. izzy stradlin.

✧ girls, girls, girls! mötley crüe

vince neil. nikki sixx. tommy lee.

✧ a tout le monde… megadeth

dave mustaine. david ellefson. nick menza.

✧ whiskey in the jar! metallica

james hetfield. kirk hammett. lars ulrich. cliff burton. jason newsted.

✧ we're fated to pretend… musicians

chris cornell. tracii guns. kelly nickels. robert plant. jimmy page. mick jagger. brian jones. kurt cobain. dave grohl. alex turner. johnny marr. jeff buckley. elvis presley.

if there is a musician you dont see on here, thats fine! shoot me a request and i can probably write something. don’t be afraid to request.

thank you all! lots of love, © lagunned (2025—) all rights reserved. 💋

LOVED TO DETH, dave mustaine.

pinned rules masterlist

pairing; dave mustaine x fem!reader

summary; a very fatigued dave mustaine finally gets home after a very lengthy megadeth tour and all he wants to be is with you but you have other plans.

warnings; veryy fluffy, 1990s/countdown to extinction dave, slight cussing, no use of y/n, vague mention of drowning (unserious), bathing(??), dave is so fucking clingy you’d have to pry him off with a crowbar, & dave is really smelly. if im missing anything else let me know!

word count; 1.4k

requests open, not proofread, based on this ask.

Dave couldn't be happier to be back home. It felt like he aged twenty years on the road. Don't get his words twisted, he loved what he did. He was eternally grateful that he was able to make a living off of what he loved most. Well, maybe not most. But he really couldn't figure out an ethical way to make money off of doing you—so the music would have to do. 

Three years ago Dave would have never dreamt that he could be in a healthy, loving relationship that wasn’t all about lust. Sure, he had great times with other girlfriends, but the lack of stability and his ever-growing dependency on various drugs truly put the nail in the coffin for anything he had going for him. And he was tough according to the press, anyhow. Rude, rough, abrasive, an asshole; all adjectives used to describe Dave. And none that could describe you.

Your pure love and innocence were sweet enough to rot all of his teeth out. The way you smiled at him—the skin around your eyes would crinkle as they dazzled in the light that guided him to sanctuary. The way your voice was ever so smooth and gentle whenever you spoke to him, almost like you were cooing at a child was like a melody to his ears he never grew tired of. The way your lips were so soft and inviting when you’d pout when you were mad at him. The way you cared for him like nobody ever had before—cooking his meals, ironing his clothes, cleaning the house—the whole nine yards.

A younger Dave would’ve gagged at the thought that he had fallen into a routine with someone that was so.. mundane and domestic. He was Dave Mustaine for God’s sake!

Yet, fate had different plans.

You had spent all day cleaning up the house and doing laundry that you had forgotten all about Dave coming home today. Not that you’d necessarily forgotten, but you had collapsed in Dave’s armchair in the living room. That was a problem. He forbade you from sitting in his chair when he was home, something about not wanting to wear out the cushion. However, you couldn't help but nestle into a little ball in it. It was so comfortable and soft, and it smelt just like him. It smelt just like home.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” A soft chuckle from above stirred you out of your sleep. For a second you believed you hallucinated his voice. Maybe your sleepy eyes deceived you as they landed on the tall ginger standing before you. The moment his eyes met yours, the slight furrow of his brow faded away and it felt like his hard, deep hazel eyes softened just for a moment.

“Hi,” you breathed out with a smile, looking up at him as his hands rested on your cheeks, calloused palms gently pressed down on your soft skin. “You’re home..,” It was almost adorable how endearing your tone of voice was whenever you spoke—like you missed him. And you truly did.

“I’m home.”

The subtle submission and admiration he had for you made your heart flutter in your chest and your stomach flip and churn as you giggled at him. I mean, who else gets to see Megadeth’s Dave Mustaine all domestic and loving like this? You wanted to take a photo of this moment and frame it in the Louvre—No. You wanted to keep this moment to yourself forever. Your special secret.

“I’ve missed you, so much..,” Dave hushed tiredly, but the gleam in his eyes only lightened up, his smile widening so far that his cheeks ached. His hands scaled down your face to reach your arms as he clutched your palms. His grip was firm but gentle—as if he were to let go you’d vanish.

“I think you’ve got it the other way around, honey. C’mere,” you beckoned him to lay beside you in the armchair. He immediately complied, snuggling up protectively to your side. Dave wrapped his girthy arm over your shoulder while his other arm rested on your thigh, hands playing with the hem of your shirt innocently.

A small, gentle laugh left his lips. Dave just couldn’t help but feel so joyful around you, the love blooming in his chest just made him want to jump up and down with you in his arms and squeeze you til you turned blue. You were the light of his life that shined bright, even in his darkest hour. His sin, his soul. He was undoubtedly and unconditionally in love with you.

Suddenly, his eyes shot up as your head recoiled back, your cute nose scrunching up in disgust and your lips pursing.

“My God Dave. When was the last time you showered? You smell terrible!”

“Uhh… Well..,” Dave awkwardly cleared his throat and chuckled. There goes sappy, sentimental Dave, I guess. To be frank—he hated it when he got that way. It made him feel so weak and vulnerable.

You quickly scrambled out of his lap, walking away to your shared bedroom. He watched your frame trudge up the stairs, the way your legs swished back and forth. Dave half considered jogging up to catch up with you, but he was honestly too exhausted. The road took a lot of energy out of him and the last thing he needed was a stupid argument the moment he went inside his own house.

Then the bedroom door slammed shut. Seriously?

He waited a minute for you to come down. Maybe you had to use the bathroom. He knew you hated the downstairs one. He knew everything. Then he waited two. Dave yawned sleepily and with a dramatic huff, he stood up from the chair.

Only when he arrived upstairs into your shared bedroom he could hear the light whispering of water running, but no lights seemed to creep from under the door. Oh God, were you drowning yourself because he stunk that badly?!

Dave slowly crept the door open, peeking into the bathroom. His hazel eyes adjusted to the darkness—the only light being a few vanilla candles surrounding the bathtub that you had placed down previously. Your “spa day” candles, as you say. Two towels lay on the counter—one for his hair and the other for his body.

“Did I really smell that bad—?”

“No. It's your spa day, babe. Now I want you to lie down and relax, okay?”

Dave chuckled and sent you one of his iconic smirks you often saw on his band’s posters, “If you wanted me naked you could’ve just asked—”

“Mustaine. Bath. Now.”

How could he argue with such a pretty face?

The next morning, you could hear birds chirping outside, a domestic tune that often greeted you in the morning, a natural alarm clock. Your face scrunches up as the sun’s blinding rays peeked from the curtains. You roll over with a groan, eyes still shut as your hand feels around the side of the bed for your (now clean) companion. Instead, you were greeted with coldness.

The door to your bedroom gently opened and your eyes slowly adjusted to the sight before you, blinking ever so often. A ginger figure approached you, holding out a TV tray with a hot plate of chocolate chip pancakes and sizzling crispy bacon. Wait—what?

“Good morning… I thought I'd make you a little treat since you were—y’know, nice, Yesterday..,” Dave’s voice came out in a mumble and if it weren't for having a visual before you, you would’ve thought it was a little schoolboy this. His cheeks flushed a soft red, almost rivalling the color of the messy locks that framed his face. He looked ethereal. A Greek God, if you will.

His large, calloused hands carefully placed the tray on your lap, careful not to spill a single drop of syrup on your lap. Dave’s sharp eyes scanned the meal before he noticed the lack of a drink on your tray. Goddamnit!

“Damnit, I forgot your orange juice. Stay here,” Dave demanded and pointed a stern finger at you. His brows furrowed in concentration: the man was on a mission.

And right there, on that random Tuesday morning, with the sun in your eyes and the hot pancakes melting the butter Dave scraped on top, the (not so) quiet banging of unfamiliar cabinets opening and shutting in the kitchen, you knew that you had made it in life.

a/n; i had so much fun writing this! please give me feedback, this is my first fanfiction LOL.

© lagunned (2025—) all rights reserved.

LOVED TO DETH, dave mustaine.

pinned rules masterlist

pairing; dave mustaine x fem!reader

summary; a very fatigued dave mustaine finally gets home after a very lengthy megadeth tour and all he wants to be is with you but you have other plans.

warnings; veryy fluffy, 1990s/countdown to extinction dave, slight cussing, no use of y/n, vague mention of drowning (unserious), bathing(??), dave is so fucking clingy you’d have to pry him off with a crowbar, & dave is really smelly. if im missing anything else let me know!

word count; 1.4k

requests open, not proofread, based on this ask.

Dave couldn't be happier to be back home. It felt like he aged twenty years on the road. Don't get his words twisted, he loved what he did. He was eternally grateful that he was able to make a living off of what he loved most. Well, maybe not most. But he really couldn't figure out an ethical way to make money off of doing you—so the music would have to do. 

Three years ago Dave would have never dreamt that he could be in a healthy, loving relationship that wasn’t all about lust. Sure, he had great times with other girlfriends, but the lack of stability and his ever-growing dependency on various drugs truly put the nail in the coffin for anything he had going for him. And he was tough according to the press, anyhow. Rude, rough, abrasive, an asshole; all adjectives used to describe Dave. And none that could describe you.

Your pure love and innocence were sweet enough to rot all of his teeth out. The way you smiled at him—the skin around your eyes would crinkle as they dazzled in the light that guided him to sanctuary. The way your voice was ever so smooth and gentle whenever you spoke to him, almost like you were cooing at a child was like a melody to his ears he never grew tired of. The way your lips were so soft and inviting when you’d pout when you were mad at him. The way you cared for him like nobody ever had before—cooking his meals, ironing his clothes, cleaning the house—the whole nine yards.

A younger Dave would’ve gagged at the thought that he had fallen into a routine with someone that was so.. mundane and domestic. He was Dave Mustaine for God’s sake!

Yet, fate had different plans.

You had spent all day cleaning up the house and doing laundry that you had forgotten all about Dave coming home today. Not that you’d necessarily forgotten, but you had collapsed in Dave’s armchair in the living room. That was a problem. He forbade you from sitting in his chair when he was home, something about not wanting to wear out the cushion. However, you couldn't help but nestle into a little ball in it. It was so comfortable and soft, and it smelt just like him. It smelt just like home.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” A soft chuckle from above stirred you out of your sleep. For a second you believed you hallucinated his voice. Maybe your sleepy eyes deceived you as they landed on the tall ginger standing before you. The moment his eyes met yours, the slight furrow of his brow faded away and it felt like his hard, deep hazel eyes softened just for a moment.

“Hi,” you breathed out with a smile, looking up at him as his hands rested on your cheeks, calloused palms gently pressed down on your soft skin. “You’re home..,” It was almost adorable how endearing your tone of voice was whenever you spoke—like you missed him. And you truly did.

“I’m home.”

The subtle submission and admiration he had for you made your heart flutter in your chest and your stomach flip and churn as you giggled at him. I mean, who else gets to see Megadeth’s Dave Mustaine all domestic and loving like this? You wanted to take a photo of this moment and frame it in the Louvre—No. You wanted to keep this moment to yourself forever. Your special secret.

“I’ve missed you, so much..,” Dave hushed tiredly, but the gleam in his eyes only lightened up, his smile widening so far that his cheeks ached. His hands scaled down your face to reach your arms as he clutched your palms. His grip was firm but gentle—as if he were to let go you’d vanish.

“I think you’ve got it the other way around, honey. C’mere,” you beckoned him to lay beside you in the armchair. He immediately complied, snuggling up protectively to your side. Dave wrapped his girthy arm over your shoulder while his other arm rested on your thigh, hands playing with the hem of your shirt innocently.

A small, gentle laugh left his lips. Dave just couldn’t help but feel so joyful around you, the love blooming in his chest just made him want to jump up and down with you in his arms and squeeze you til you turned blue. You were the light of his life that shined bright, even in his darkest hour. His sin, his soul. He was undoubtedly and unconditionally in love with you.

Suddenly, his eyes shot up as your head recoiled back, your cute nose scrunching up in disgust and your lips pursing.

“My God Dave. When was the last time you showered? You smell terrible!”

“Uhh… Well..,” Dave awkwardly cleared his throat and chuckled. There goes sappy, sentimental Dave, I guess. To be frank—he hated it when he got that way. It made him feel so weak and vulnerable.

You quickly scrambled out of his lap, walking away to your shared bedroom. He watched your frame trudge up the stairs, the way your legs swished back and forth. Dave half considered jogging up to catch up with you, but he was honestly too exhausted. The road took a lot of energy out of him and the last thing he needed was a stupid argument the moment he went inside his own house.

Then the bedroom door slammed shut. Seriously?

He waited a minute for you to come down. Maybe you had to use the bathroom. He knew you hated the downstairs one. He knew everything. Then he waited two. Dave yawned sleepily and with a dramatic huff, he stood up from the chair.

Only when he arrived upstairs into your shared bedroom he could hear the light whispering of water running, but no lights seemed to creep from under the door. Oh God, were you drowning yourself because he stunk that badly?!

Dave slowly crept the door open, peeking into the bathroom. His hazel eyes adjusted to the darkness—the only light being a few vanilla candles surrounding the bathtub that you had placed down previously. Your “spa day” candles, as you say. Two towels lay on the counter—one for his hair and the other for his body.

“Did I really smell that bad—?”

“No. It's your spa day, babe. Now I want you to lie down and relax, okay?”

Dave chuckled and sent you one of his iconic smirks you often saw on his band’s posters, “If you wanted me naked you could’ve just asked—”

“Mustaine. Bath. Now.”

How could he argue with such a pretty face?

The next morning, you could hear birds chirping outside, a domestic tune that often greeted you in the morning, a natural alarm clock. Your face scrunches up as the sun’s blinding rays peeked from the curtains. You roll over with a groan, eyes still shut as your hand feels around the side of the bed for your (now clean) companion. Instead, you were greeted with coldness.

The door to your bedroom gently opened and your eyes slowly adjusted to the sight before you, blinking ever so often. A ginger figure approached you, holding out a TV tray with a hot plate of chocolate chip pancakes and sizzling crispy bacon. Wait—what?

“Good morning… I thought I'd make you a little treat since you were—y’know, nice, Yesterday..,” Dave’s voice came out in a mumble and if it weren't for having a visual before you, you would’ve thought it was a little schoolboy this. His cheeks flushed a soft red, almost rivalling the color of the messy locks that framed his face. He looked ethereal. A Greek God, if you will.

His large, calloused hands carefully placed the tray on your lap, careful not to spill a single drop of syrup on your lap. Dave’s sharp eyes scanned the meal before he noticed the lack of a drink on your tray. Goddamnit!

“Damnit, I forgot your orange juice. Stay here,” Dave demanded and pointed a stern finger at you. His brows furrowed in concentration: the man was on a mission.

And right there, on that random Tuesday morning, with the sun in your eyes and the hot pancakes melting the butter Dave scraped on top, the (not so) quiet banging of unfamiliar cabinets opening and shutting in the kitchen, you knew that you had made it in life.

a/n; i had so much fun writing this! please give me feedback, this is my first fanfiction LOL.

© lagunned (2025—) all rights reserved.

PATIENCE

pairing. izzy stradlin x original female character

synopsis. lethality: one of the most popular rising bands to come out of the sunset strip since the great days of early mötley crüe and van halen. but get this—a woman is the leader! lethality frontwoman, singer-songwriter jackie riot, guitarist-songwriter sean carnegie, and drummer dennis knight are on the brink of international superstardom. with a fresh deal from elektra records and a coveted spot opening for guns n’ fuckin’ roses on the appetite for destruction tour, their dreams are finally becoming reality.

but the road to fame is a long, dangerous one. jackie is already struggling to balance her ambition with the tensions in lethality—especially with sean, her boyfriend and bandmate. then there’s guns n’ roses’ rhythm guitarist izzy stradlin—mysterious, magnetic, and drowning in excess. jackie knows getting close to him is reckless, idiotic, unfathomable even, but on the road, temptation is everywhere.

while sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll crash together, jackie must decide what she’s willing to risk—for love, for music, and for a place in musical history. will jackie and izzy get their happily ever after they desperately yearn after?

status. on-going

tags. female original character, a lot of cussing (gnr-typical), religious trauma, mentions of physical and mental health issues, depictions of childhood trauma, unhealthy romantic relationship(s), period typical homophobia, period typical misogyny, mentions of AIDS crisis, drug & alcohol abuse (seriously, it’s a gnr fic), slow burn, NSFW themes (eventual smut? who knows.. only i do ;)) mentions of eating disorders, lastly, again, its a fucking guns n roses fanfic, please be aware of the triggers that come along with that group.

links. AO3, wattpad.

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ prologue on AO3 and wattpad

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ chapter one: welcome to the jungle on AO3 and wattpad

writing and then losing motivation halfway through <<<<

'he would not fucking say that' maybe he would if he knew he was starring in his very own porn fic for the sole purpose of delighting some freaks on archive of our own dot org. maybe he'd play it up for the cameras. ever consider that

CHAPTER 3 | KILL 'EM ALL.

w.c. 3.8k

tags. original female character, mild period-typical misogyny (it’s the late 1980s), some cussing, slowburn, arguing, possessive/slight controlling behavior via mc’s boyfriend, toxic masculinity/insecurity, manipulative behavior via mc’s boyfriend, smoking, if there’s anything else to be added let me know!

a/n. hey all! i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. you’ll have to bear with me for the first few chapters in the beginning, as i’m trying to naturally and realistically flesh out everyone’s story while writing the real life people “in character.” i’m expecting to start the legit drama SOON just.. let me enjoy my slowburn.

taglist. @prettypersuasion, @creepindeaathh, @nelnroses, @hyperiondickrider, @hollywoodroses, @tranquilitybasegrunge

you can find chapter three on wattpad and AO3, linked under the respective platforms aforementioned.

last two previous chapters:

chapter one: welcome to the jungle - wattpad and AO3.

chapter two: terror 'n tinseltown - wattpad and AO3.

doesnt my job understand i have a blooming fanfiction writing career to work on

hey all!!! if youve submitted something, im definitely working on it atm. the first few subs should be out soon 💋