Steven Gnr - Blog Posts

gorgeous steven 🥹🤍

APPETITE FOR DESTRUCTION ERA

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝟐𝟏, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟕, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟. 𝐑𝐚𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐬-𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐨𝐟-𝐚-𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝. (𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐞: 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐫𝐞)

Steven Adler And Lars Ulrich ❤️😊🎶

I Love Them Both So Much!! They’re Both So Beautiful!! I Just Love Drummers!! 🩷☺️

Guns N’ Roses 🌹♥️

The 8th Picture 😂😊

Steven In The Last One… 😢💔

I Just Love Them All So Much 🩷🎶

Stevie!! Oh My Gosh Stop He’s So Adorable!! I Love Him So Much!!

Steven Adler 🩷🥺

ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕪 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕤𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕝 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞

!Teenage! Izzy stradlin/ reader

(Basically Jeffrey Isbell in that fanfic)

Tags: High School, Prom Night, 1980s, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, First Meetings, Rejection, Popular Kids vs Outcasts, Dancing, Music References, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Happy Ending, Teen Romance, Second Person POV, Reader Insert and just izzy it’s already a tag.

Description: When prom night turns into a disaster of rejection and humiliation, two outcasts meet on a park bench. She in her ruined sequined dress, he with his crumpled bouquet meant for someone else. Both wounded by the popular kids who chose others, they find unexpected comfort in each other's company. What starts as shared misery becomes an impromptu dance under the stars, proving that sometimes the best moments happen when you least expect them.

a/n: My exams are eating my ass now and I’m tweaking out for them as if I’m going to fight with a literal dragon wtf. This fanfic came to me when I was looking at my old prom photos from middle school (yeah we have those) and I was like: hell yeah. Let’s not sleep that night and write something about our man Izzy, cause once again wtf not. My sleep schedule is already ruined because I catch a real inspiration here so enjoy 🫶🏻

May. The month that all graduates hate, and it's not only because the childhood is over and everyone will fly away from their parents nests to build their own lives. No, not because of this. And not even because the exam season begins, but simply because all the losers of school’s society will once again be humiliated in such a special way that every hope of finding happiness is equal to zero. As you understood we are stalking about prom here. Yes, yes, a place for fairy tales and first kisses, but not for your school. You have long outgrown the age where, sitting in your room, you built castles of love stories and fairy-tale myths that any minute now a prince on a white horse will gallop for you and take you away from this Hell. He should have, but he didn't, as usually happens in life.

Derek is a prince?... no, but the idiot you invited to the prom, the idiot who is the captain of the football team and your date of the night, and the idiot you liked long enough to realize how stupid and naive you were to let your heart beat faster. Every guy you met was idealized, you liked them all simply because they showed their attention to you. You didn't know what love was and probably no one else does, simply because at your age popularity and status are more important than nightly serenades and poetry dedications. So the evening turned into a disaster when Derek accepted your invitation but ended up making out at the prom with one typical and such a stereotypical blonde cheerleader with an open cleavage who was just trying to get the attention of your so-called "boyfriend". Tina. Yes, you noticed this connection between them a long time ago and it didn't make you feel any better when, walking back with drinks, you noticed how they hugged and kissed - it was a low blow. It was like all 206 bones in your body were breaking at once, grinding you into powder, smashing your nose into the dirt and slapping you so hard that a trace of shame would remain forever on your cheek. You remained there as tears welled up and slowly flowed down your cheeks and your heart created a crack in pain. You didn't notice how someone pushed you and all the drinks spilled right on your dress that you had been choosing for months specifically for this event where you were supposed to kiss Derek and wear the crown of the prom. How foolish.

But it looked good, this dress was a bold contradiction of softness and edge, clinging to your figure in rich plum tones that deepened to black at the hem. Those contractions were something that you wanted to prove of yourself, someone you wanted to be for Derek. But it’s not who you are. The fabric shimmered with a galaxy of fuchsia sequins, scattered like stardust across the sheer overlay. Each step made them flicker under the chandeliers, catching the light in flashes that felt almost rebellious that now seemed like nothing with drinks spilled all over it. The bodice hugged you with elegant ruching, sculpting your waist and drawing the eye upward to a halter neckline that hinted at something both vintage and daring. The skirt flared gently into jagged, asymmetrical points, like petals with attitude, brushing just above your knees and swaying like they had their own rhythm. Strapped to your calves were winding black ribbons from your heels, lacing up like something out of a midnight fairytale. On one wrist, a delicate corsage of pale pink and ivory roses sat beside a burst of chiffon. On the other a punch of wild color, thistles and a rose in bruised red and violet, bound in black which gave the impression that maybe you weren’t as soft as you seemed. It wasn’t the kind of dress meant to blend in. It was made to be remembered, but instead you stand there with tears over your eyes and ruined fabric.

You are Cinderella because you lost your carriage and beautiful dress after midnight. Metaphorical confidence and childish naivety clouded your rational mind amidst the rhinestones, sequins and long glitter pendants that read “Prom 1980”. Amongst the crowd of teenagers, drink, fun and sparkly outfits, you felt like a missing piece of the puzzle and like you didn’t belong here. Glasses crashed to the floor and fabric was ruined until you began to realize how stupid you had looked this whole time. “You’re going to lose that girl” by The Beatles in the background didn’t help at all. How all those hours spent in the bathroom had been wasted, how makeup had become unnecessary that all weaknesses had slipped out when someone responded to you after a collision: “Stop standing there like a statue, you bitch. Can’t you see me coming or something?” it only provoked tears, bringing you back to reality. Derek and Tina turned to look you, studying you briefly before turning back with a smirk. You probably looked pathetic. Pathetic little creature. Naive and so stupid like a damn baby. Oh yeah who else you can possibly be than that?

You hate this world. You hate these people and you hate this school. All just to get out of this place, you ran out of the wooden door with a vertical window in the background, slamming it and no longer wanting to return to this damn hall. Everything that was happening around you shook even more, everything around was a trigger for tears and obsessive thoughts. You just don’t understand why all the bad things happened only to you and how you could have been so stupid to fall in love with this bastard? The sound of your heels echoed through the dark corridor as the music in the background disappeared, cracking your skull with memories of what you had seen earlier. Streams of tears ruined your makeup, painting your cheeks in a black stripe of mascara that was inexpensive. Because you were trying to save some money on that fucking dress. In your teenage dreams, you wanted Derek to take it off you. It only hurt more because you believed in yourself so much, preparing and planning everything in advance - speech, words, behavior, smell and appearance. And in the end he chose someone else.

Going outside and quickly walking down the stairs, you sat down on the step and started crying, but louder. You didn't care if anyone saw, those school years were over anyway and those people would leave, forgetting about you and themselves. But honestly you do because you wanted to be remembered as sharp and bright girl just to prove yourself once again that the role you worth for others is definitely not a crybaby. Your teenage hormones didn't help you at all. You're not a child anymore, but you're not an adult either. You're locked between two worlds and nothing can be the same as before. Kaleidoscopes and patterns of different colors blurred in your eyes when you felt the wind blowing your hair away from your bashful face.

Away from the monster you turned into in a matter of seconds after what you saw. You became a laughing stock that they'll hang on the boards of the school stand to ridicule you. It's so stupid and so unfair. But unfortunately you will get everything in this world only if you are popular and have a pretty face like this bitch Tina. Tina Morgan. Now you hate her, although you didn’t like her before either. An arrogant slut who likes to sit on two chairs, just so that all the male attention was on her. And so she oppressed you by receiving Derek and most likely the crown of the prom. Just the thought of this cut off your breath with a sharp pain and you began to feel how tears turn into an excess of air, and your chest can no longer cope. It never even occurred to you that you need to be a bitch to be liked by others. Since childhood, you were taught that princesses who received a crown are kind and beloved women. Not those who behave like Tina. You heard distant footsteps and someone's laughter that was approaching the exit where you were sitting at. Thinking about the bad, you prayed to God or whoever even exists up there, just so that it was not them. But with the door wide open and interested looks, you saw that it was a couple who couldn't tear themselves away from each other until they noticed your intense gaze and turned to ask who you were and what happened. And also why you were crying, which only made it more painful. Fuck you all, you replied, mentally wishing for their lips to stick together and choke them to death. You didn't want to see others happy, especially next to you in a place where it was calm and quiet and no one could possibly disturb you. A place where you could calm down and digest it all.

You stood up again, walking away under intense gazes. Maybe you were weird and that's why no one was interested in you and that's why no one will ever love you. You're an outcast, you're a commoner, you're disgusting, you're lonely, you’re an embarrassment, you’re an attention whore, you’re stupid and... your brain didn't had time to throw up a new insult when you walked outside the school closer to the nearest park and noticed a strange figure sitting on a bench. Some weird guy.

He sits there with a casual, almost defiant slouch, a teenager on the edge of adulthood who wears his confidence like a second skin but he lost it this time. At 17 or 18, he has the lean, wiry build of someone who moves fast and lives faster, with long, inky black hair that falls over his face in tousled layers. His deep-set, dark eyes hint at a restless energy sharp, observant, and constantly sizing up the world around him, were now reduced to thinking mess. He wears a light blazer carelessly over a graphic tee bearing the face of Keith Richards. Stones fan, huh? The contrast between classic rock glam and his gritty, punkish presence is almost ironic. He looked attractive and interesting, which made you stop in your tracks to observe his slouched figure. The shirt hangs a little loose, like everything he owns is either thrifted, stolen, or passed down from someone with better luck. His hands are rested over his knees while he was holding an already ruined bouquet of flowers. Fingers calloused, maybe from playing guitar, maybe from climbing out of too many second-floor windows but you knew that it was altogether for sure. He looked familiar. Everything about him says he doesn’t care, but the way he poses, half-challenging, half-inviting and half-thinking tells you he does. Just not in the way most people do.

You slowly approached him, sincerely not understanding what he was doing here and why you had the feeling as if you had seen him somewhere before. He is surely from your school.

-«Hey... can I sit here?» you called him out with a slightly shaking and hoarse voice after crying, swallowing saliva and already accepting your fate.

The black-haired guy looked up and you recognized him. Jeffrey Isbell, the same guy from your school who everyone calls a “weirdo” because of his strange style and “gay” because of his long hair. And he also loves the Stones, which clearly shows how much worse the situation has gotten since the wave of hate towards this band and how all of their fans immediately became gay. It's hilarious. His chestnut gaze was looking at you and you had already lost your guard for a second while he calmly nodded with a hint of attention, moving away and leaving you a place next to him. Weird guy, he looks so calm and enigmatic as if he were the surface of the ocean. He put the bouquet on the other side of the bench, leaning back while the rustling of leaves played a serenade, letting you both get used to each other. This... Jeffrey is definitely weird but he's dressed cool and his hair looks cool. You had almost forgotten that he was friends with this crazy guy Bill Bailey from your parallel or whatever he was.

-«Tough night?» a hoarse teenage voice soaked in testosterone suddenly sounded somewhere to your left. You were already looking at him, but it didn't matter because he was also looking at you, directly pointing with his gaze at your ruined makeup and obvious dejection.

-«That's an understatement but... yeah you can say that.» You answered with a nervous laugh, looking away and bitterly chuckling, not wanting to feel his intense gaze on you, as if he already knew your entire family tree and also your favorite drink. But it's better to just forget, because the worst thing is if he realizes that you were rejected in front of everyone and you, like a naive fool, cried thinking that it was love. «And you?» you turned the arrows in his direction, not wanting to raise this topic.

-«Tina Morgan.» He answered calmly, which made you raise an eyebrow, realizing that words were not needed here. You were both in the same hole. What a coincidence...

-«Ah...» was the only thing that came out of your mouth, realizing that you absolutely don’t know how to support others, or even yourself. It is such a difficult task and you definitely need to study for at least another 12 years.

-«Yeah... and you as I get it is Derek Henderson?» He turned in your direction with sympathy, also deftly avoiding the main topic, not wanting to bare his wounded soul and deep shame for believing in love. Just as you. It's strange, because this is one of the reasons why humans can be called humans, and they are so embarrassed by this feeling. Like what the heck, dude?

-«Yes.» You nodded, looking at your hands that you placed on your knees, playing with the fabric of your ruined dress. «I take it you were also rejected and replaced by someone better?» You said it with such deep pain feeling that tears were about to flow down again but his voice distracted you.

-«Well yeah... I spent three weeks getting ready and even spent money on a bouquet. The price I could have bought new strings or wires for my guitar for.» Jeff started. Which made you look up understanding his pain, you also spent so much pocket money on a dress, although you could have bought posters of your favorite performers. Even if we talk about Jeffrey, his outfit was most likely borrowed from his father or a relative judging by the quality of the fabric. But he was still irresistible. Well, that's what you thought. Of course.

-«Me too. I spent a month choosing a dress and in the end it's ruined. I could have bought posters or vinyl in that store down the street with that money.» You shook your head feeling your own absurdity and stupidity thinking that it was really so important for your money. «So I came hoping he likes me but he chose Miss Perfect... but I don't blame him, I'm really not good enough for him.» You said, feeling your eyes getting wet again. Damn Derek.

-«Not good enough?» Jeff suddenly said, making you look up at him while he just frowned. There was no pain in his eyes even after Tina, which made you so jealous. How did he do it so easily?

-«Look at me!» You exclaimed, feeling an obsessive sense of injustice fill your soul. This world hates average, which is what you definitely were. «I'm not a cheerleader and I'm definitely not a blondie with perfect curves who just came out of Vogue! Of course, nothing would ever work out between us...» You realized how pathetic you sounded pouring out your soul to a guy you barely knew, who clearly didn't give a damn about you and your problems. Tears started flowing from your already wet eyes again. It simply couldn't be any worse than it already is.

-«I hope it’s a joke.» Jeff replied, from which you looked up at him, clearly not understanding what he wanted to say. He only smiled slightly lifting the corner of his virgin lips in a light form of support. «Wipe your tears, this bastard does not deserve you. Now crying because you can’t buy a poster of your favourite musician is a real problem. I sold my soul for this T-shirt with Keith.. so this is the only thing that supported me this evening. I mean…I could cry over Tina but she’s not Richards.» His velvety and such a boyish voice pleasantly flattered your heart, from which you blinked wiping your eyes, feeling a strange sensation in your lower stomach. He supported so strangely but skillfully, as if thousands of crying girls were sitting next to him and asking for help.

- «....» you simply lost your words listening to him, of course you knew that he was slightly strange and detached guy who almost has no friends except for the rockers with whom he plays behind the garages and this crazy Bailey. But this level of support was definitely something new.

-«See? You have nothing to say because I'm right.» He smiled sarcastically and it gave you such a big explosion somewhere inside, letting the ecstasy spread through the body and the butterflies fly up the stomach and straight to the heart feeling every rhythmic beat. You always wrote it off as hormonal reactions, being a teenager trying to grow up and get some brain. Just because falling in love with every lamppost... is a little weird. «You're not the type of girl who deserves tears, you don't deserve anything related to this at all.» Jeffrey added, which made you have so many questions that no professional who has considered them all will be able to answer them. But the most understandable is where did he suddenly get interested in you? In you...

-«And what do I deserve then?...» you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and feeling how all the unpleasant feelings accumulated at the level of your dignity.

-«This.» Jeff replied and turned the other way, taking out his crumpled and dirty flower bouquet he earlier left on the other side of the bench. «You deserve it.» He replied with a smile that made you smile back. What a romantic this dude.

-«A dirty bouquet?» You laughed awkwardly, already thinking that if they will ever invent a time machine, you will erase your existence for such a response to elementary flirting.

-«C'mon, think one more time.» He tut his tongue and shook his head. «It's not that bad, even if it was thrown on the floor. I think that next to you, it will shine with new colors ... as cheesy as it sounds.» He looked at you, still holding the bouquet and pointing it at you, with such an enticing face. As if begging you to take it.

-«Is this an invitation?» you asked with some naivety, holding out your hand and intercepting the bouquet that he gave you, lightly touching his fingers, from which the touch went through your body like electricity, causing goosebumps.

- «You're certainly not a cheerleader and you're definitely not a blondie with perfect curves who just came out of Vogue. But I'd be a fool if I didn't give you this bouquet.» Jeff paraphrased you, from which you smiled and the tears were forgotten. That bastard Derek and slut Tina, could suck it. They can bathe in perfectionism as much as they want, but we will always be one step closer to the truth ... simply because we are real and not fake Barbie and Ken.» said the black-haired guy, pushing his body up from the bench and holding out his hand to you.

-«This...» you looked at him in surprise, sincerely not understanding what just happened and what was going on. He was so quiet and aloof almost always, and here his other side of the coin was calling you to forget about this world and accept reality. This introverted guy that you briefly saw in the corridors did not stick out in your memory until this evening.

-«Shall we dance? I don't want to invite artificial blondes anymore. I like humans, not dolls, even if I'm disappointed in them... which I don't think will last long, because you'll fix it.» He smiled and for a second it seemed to you that you were sleeping, that any minute now you would hear the alarm clock and wake up.

-«But... I don't want to go back there and anyway-» you didn't have time to finish as Jeff interrupted you, shaking his head and using all his efforts, all his masculine charm to attract you. Although to be honest, you thought that he didn't even have to try.

-«No. We're not going back there, they can have all the fun they want but we have our own fun here.» Jeff said.

-«It's quite shitty..» you commented pessimistically, reluctantly taking his hand and standing up from the bench holding the bouquet in your hands.

-«Then...we are the king and the queen of our own shitty prom, how does that sound?» he nudged your shoulder before his other hand let go of yours and with permission from your eyes he dropped his hand at your waist.

-«Still shitty.» you smiled letting him catch you while the rustling of leaves distantly carried loud music from a nearby building filled with students who next year will leave, disappear and only the school photo book will remember them. You and Jeff are part of them, but it didn’t affect your dancing at all, as the song reached your ears you grabbed each other twirling and dancing under the night lights. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders while the bouquet hung somewhere behind him. Let time stand still, everyone will forget you and you will forget them.

-«You’re hard to please..» Jeff joked, looking straight into your eyes with sarcasm. That damn smirk was spreading across his face again.

-«You're not Jimmy Page for me to like, but your resemblance attracts me.» you said back.

-«Oh, so... you're also a Zeppelin fan? Welcome to the club. We love black-haired guitarists.» Jeff replied, studying your face with interest, like a painter memorising every detail. «I just hope you're not here with me because I'm a black-haired guitarist and look like a kid of Keith Richards and Jimmy Page.»

-«No.» You shook your head with a laugh. He had a particular sense of humor and you were definitely starting to like it. It wasn't just because he calmed you down so quickly and brought you back to your senses. He was just being himself. «But that could be one of the reasons.»

-«I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult.» Jeff replied, his eyes falling on yours. You wanted to drown in them so much.

-«Neither. I just found your resemblance amusing.» You shrugged, until a barely audible song reached your ears, this one was "Dancing Queen" so ironic.

-«Too bad.. I was hoping for the former.» He grinned with such cheekiness that sometimes you considered the quote don't judge a book by its cover, because there might be a masterpiece behind it. And that masterpiece was most likely standing in front of you, which made you feel weird again.

-«What do you think... I'm weird? Well... I mean..if I think about them?..» You didn't want to specify who, because in any case, you'll come out as a weirdo. Thinking about rock stars is weird because they're a few years older than you and they certainly won't notice you... and thinking about Derek and Tina is also weird. Just because that's what they're waiting for. For you to waste your tears on them.

-«We are all weird in our own way. And I love the way you are weird, because it makes me fell more comfortable being weird with you.» Jeffrey replied, leaving you speechless again. Sometimes this weird guy was such a poet that you wondered if he was from a fairy tale. With a gentle smile, he leaned forward to your ear, letting you smell him. He smelled like….teenager, but better, like a guy who is preparing to become a man, leaving his boyhood behind. It sounds weird, but he looked smarter beyond his years. Jeff hummed the melody of Dancing Queen in your ear, with such a husky and slightly underdeveloped voice, trying to impress you with his singing. Such a gentle and quiet half-whisper, so that only you could hear. So that no one else could enjoy his mini concert for you. He would have been a great musician. «You are the dancing queen...Young and sweet, only seventeen..»

You danced with him to this melody until the very end and until the beginning of the next one, realizing that sometimes the best things happen when you least expect them and don't prepare for them for months. They just come and change your life upside down. Just like this black-haired guy who whispered different songs to you all evening while you danced like an old couple to the hits. Such a stupid thing this life, first it cripples then heals. But you knew that Jeffrey would definitely make you love this little thing called….life.

Just GNR being GNR (pt. 2)

Just GNR being GNR

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.

Forgot to post this yesterday butttt it’s never too late!! Slash reposted this on his instagram and I left the caption in there Incase anyone wanted to read that lol

Popcorn & Panties Part 2😝

This is a re-upload⚠️

So I had a request for a part two of this izzy story. Can’t find the request anymore😭, but if you enjoyed the first one hopefully you’ll enjoy this one :)

Warning ‼️ contains (public smex, choking, a bit of praise/degradation, dirty talk)

Y/N POV

The movie ended, but the tension didn’t. Izzy kept his arm slung around your waist as you all walked out of the theater, trying to act casual even though your legs still trembled from the orgasm you’d ridden out in his lap.

Duff tossed an empty popcorn bucket at Steven. “Told you that chick was gonna die.”

Slash lit a cigarette and snorted. “I could hear you losers whispering the whole time.”

But Izzy didn’t say a word. He just kept walking. Only you noticed the way his jaw clenched, the way his hand dug a little tighter into your hip like he was barely keeping it together.

He barely waited for the others to around the corner before his hand was around your wrist, dragging you down the side of the theater like a man possessed.

“In here. Now.”

The alley was barely lit, smelled like beer and smoke, but you didn’t care, because he spun you around and pinned you to the wall with his body, mouth already crashing into yours.

“You know what you fuckin’ did to me in there?” he growled, already shoving his hand between your thighs. “Got me so fuckin’ hard I couldn’t think straight.”

You gasped as he put his hand up your dress and yanked your panties down your legs, letting them fall around your ankles. His fingers plunged into your soaking wet pussy without warning, and you moaned into his mouth, legs trembling.

Look at you,” he hissed, rubbing tight circles on your clit with two fingers inside you. “Dripping like a slut. You wanted someone to hear you in there, didn’t you? Wanted Slash to turn around and see me ruining you.”

You bit your lip, nodding shamelessly, and he laughed.

Nasty little girl,” he said, low and filthy. “Bet you’d let me bend you over the hood of their car right now, wouldn’t you?”

Izzy….” you whined, breathless.

Shut the fuck up,” he growled, yanking your shirt down to expose one tit, biting hard at the soft flesh. “You wanted it nasty, right? That’s what you’re gonna get.”

His hand wrapped around your throat, not hard, just enough to make your head spin, just enough to say “you’re mine”. Then he spat in his free hand, stroked his cock once, twice, and shoved it into you from behind, fucking you rough and fast without any warning.

You cried out, back arching, nails scraping the brick.

That’s it, baby. Take it. Take this cock like the filthy little slut you are.”

He was brutal, fucking you deep, hands bruising your hips, sweat dripping down his head. His hips slapped against your ass, echoing down the alley like the world didn’t matter. Like he didn’t care if someone walked by and saw it all.

You like this? You like me fucking you like a dirty whore behind a goddamn movie theater?” he panted, one hand back around your throat, pulling you up against his chest.

“Yes! fuck! yes!, Izzy, I love it”

That’s right you do. You love my cock. You love being full of me. You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you? Make a mess all over me like a desperate little bitch.”

His fingers reached around and rubbed your clit fast. You broke in seconds, shaking, and moaning shamelessly as your orgasm ripped through you, walls closing around him.

He hissed, lost in that tight pussy of yours. “Fuck…fuck, baby! I’m gonna cum in this tight pussy. Gonna fill you up right here, so the next time you walk, you’ll be dripping my cum down your thighs.”

And he did. Thrusting deep, cumming inside you, swearing against your ear as he spilled every drop.

You stayed against the wall, panting, legs weak.

He slapped your ass and laughed. “Still think we’re done?”

You turned to him, cheeks flushed, spit on your lips, his cum already leaking down your thighs.

“I hope not,” you whispered. “You owe me a round three.”

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.



Requested✨✨

Popcorn & Panties🥵

Warning ‼️ (Public smex, dirty talk, quiet moans)

Sorry this is kinda late, I was going to post this yesterday, but I had to catch up on some homework and I also had work this morning sooooo.. here’s a new story. Hope you guys like it especially @slashduffizzysgf 😘

Y/N POV

The lights dimmed and the movie started, but I barely noticed. My eyes flicked to the row in front of me, Duff, Slash, Axl, and Steven were already getting into it, whispering and tossing popcorn like overgrown kids.

But I was only focused on the man beside me. Izzy sat back, long legs stretched out, that usual slouch like he owned the whole damn theater. His hand rested casually on my thigh, thumb stroking slow circles through the fabric of my jeans. Just enough to drive me crazy.

He leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “You okay, baby?”

I nodded, but the truth was, I was yearning for his touch. The way his fingers teased, the smell of his leather jacket, the heat between us… it was too much.

“Izzy,” I whispered, my voice tight. “I need you.”

He looked at me, those dark eyes smoldering, jaw clenched like he was trying to keep control. I didn’t give him the chance to say no, I slipped from my seat and carefully slid into his lap, straddling him in the dark.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck, Y/N… here?”

I smirked, grinding my hips just enough to make him groan low in his throat. “Be quiet, baby,” I whispered, lips brushing his. “Unless you want the whole band to hear how good I make you feel.”

He didn’t need more convincing. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me against him. Our lips crashed, hot, desperate, messy. I kissed him like the world was ending, biting his bottom lip until he groaned again, quieter this time.

“I’ve been hard since you walked in here,” he hissed against my neck. “You know what you do to me, don’t you?”

I grind down again, feeling his thick cock beneath me. “Then do something about it.”

He didn’t waste time. One hand slipped up my shirt, fingers brushing over my tits, while the other fumbled with his zipper beneath me. The rustling of the movie masked the sounds, but my heartbeat thundered louder than any soundtrack.

“Goddamn, baby,” he muttered as I helped guide him inside me, slow and silent. My breath hitched, he stretched me perfectly. Full, deep. Dangerous.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled in my ear, barely audible.

His hands gripped my hips tightly as I sank down on him, slow and steady. My head tipped forward, resting against his shoulder, breathing him in. He smelled like leather, cigarette smoke, and that warm, musky scent that always drove me wild.

“You’re gonna kill me, baby,” Izzy groaned low, biting back a moan as I started to move. “Fuck… you’re so tight.”

I rocked my hips slowly, careful to keep quiet, but it was getting harder and harder. The thrill of it being right behind the guys, in a public theater, stuffed full of him while we pretended to be watching a movie… It was too much.

Every time I moved, he twitched inside me, his cock thick and hard, pressing against all the right spots. His hands slipped under my shirt, thumbs brushing my nipples through the thin lace of my bra.

“You’re so wet already,” he whispered, voice strained. “All this for me?”

“All for you,” I whispered back, trying not to whimper. “You feel so good, Izzy. So deep…”

His hands guided me as I picked up the pace, grinding in tight little circles. He kissed my neck, sucked on my earlobe and growled, “You better stay quiet, sweetheart… unless you want Slash turning around and seeing my cock buried in you.”

That image made me clench around him, and he felt it. He smirked against my skin, pulling my shirt up just enough to kiss down between my tits. His warm tongue flicking over my nipples as he thrust up once, deep, sharp, and toe-curling.

I gasped, hand flying to my mouth. “Izzy, oh my god…”

“Shhh,” he murmured. “Be a good girl and take it.”

My thighs shook with the effort of staying quiet. He kept fucking me, slow but hard, making sure every thrust hit that perfect spot. I was melting around him, trembling, so close I couldn’t think straight.

“You’re gonna cum for me, right here in this fucking theater,” he hissed. “While they sit right there… and you sit on my cock, dripping all over me.”

“I—I can’t hold it,” I whimpered, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the moan.

“Yes, you can,” he said, kissing me deep. “Come on, baby. Let me feel it.”

His thumb slipped between us, rubbing fast, tight circles on my clit, and that was it. I broke apart in silence, shaking, thighs squeezing around him as the orgasm hit me like a freight train. My body tensed, clenching around him, and he groaned, losing it right after me.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted, gripping my waist. “I’m gonna fill you up…”

And he did, pulsing deep inside me. I collapsed against him, trying not to laugh from the mix of thrill and afterglow.

Axl turned around for a second, eyes narrowed. “You two good back there?”

I coughed, straightening my shirt. “Yeah. Just—uh, he dropped his drink.”

Izzy smirked, still buried inside me, still throbbing. “Yeah. Big mess.”

Axl shrugged and turned back around. I glanced at Izzy, breathless, heart pounding.

“We’re not done yet,” he whispered, lips brushing mine. “I want a round two later, so I can hear you scream.”

And I believed him.

Steven finallyyy made his happy bday post to izzy!

❤️‼️

Happy Birthday Daddy Axl !

Estranged -Guns N' Roses🎀

*sees and starts laughing, Duff shows to Stevie*

Stevie: oh, the man… Slash.

Duff: that’s nice!

Stevie: that’s cool!

Japan, 1988

i luv the og gnr friendships :,)

okay...who should i write abt smut-wise ..not izzy stradlin rn bcs if we go in my notes app we'll all see i have 10+ smut stories PENSKKSSLSBUT SERIOUSLY I NEED NAMES PEOPLE 😘😘 ANYONE FROM ANY BAND DUCES😘

who else misses when axl had his ass out on stage all the time? cause i sure do.

I'm sorry😭 I think I drew Steven in such a cute and small size😭😭 I know this painting doesn't look like them

Me:

{when this solo comes on}

• (Izzy Stradlin) Live at the Ritz, 1991.

• (Duff McKagan) Live at the Ritz, 1991.

Current Izzy makes my heart so happy 😌🥰

He bought a motorbike! 🥺

Stradlin photo dump 😌

📸 Ross Halfin

Fine dining 😏