dazecrea

Latest Posts by dazecrea

risingtripletaurus' rockstar fic recs 💋

~~~

personal faves - 🗽

thats^^ more of a personal indicator for me <3 i love all these fics SO much

some didn't have titles, so i just gave them one!

eddie van halen

by your side by @born-to-lose 🗽

a quiet day by @thunderxroad

~~~

tommy lee

without you by @coffeeandcannolis 🗽

strawberries by @looksthatkilledd-writes

close as strangers by @niksixx

but i'm your dumbass by @one-sad-human 🗽

~~~

nikki sixx

tommy's sister by @michelle-is-writing 🗽

my place is up the street by @niksixx

some well needed comfort by @one-sad-human 🗽

love again by @napsandimagines 🗽

to the moon and back by @buckysimp10101 🗽

following all by @youlightmeupfinn

silent treatment 🗽

never thought we'd end up like this 🗽

ghost (series)

exhaustion 🗽

cat and mouse (series) 🗽

dancing on glass (series)

because of you

~~~

vince neil

dinner first by @one-sad-human 🗽

~~~

jon bon jovi

slippery when wet by @born-to-lose 🗽

this ain't a love story by @skydiving-without-a-parachute

following all by @guns-n-jovi

born to be my baby

mercy on me 🗽

on eagle's wings 🗽

hey stranger 🗽

~~~

duff mckagan

i will take care of you by @duffs-shot-glass

wrong number by @born-to-lose

best prank ever by @lost-in-the-80s 🗽

following all by @one-sad-human

soft touches, warm cuddles

you're crazy

following all by @guns-n-jovi

meant what i said 🗽

never again 🗽

the date

~~~

slash

don't you call me baby by @tuffduff

parking lot dances by @itsgaga

just friends by @duffslut 🗽

lucky guy by @zaynsxsoul

following all by @guns-n-jovi

red of the night

all the time 🗽

~~~

steven adler

hairstyles by @born-to-lose 🗽

in these arms by @americanrocknroll 🗽

a better match by @duffs-shot-glass

pinky promises by @one-sad-human 🗽

~~~

axl rose

three days by @one-sad-human 🗽

it was just a joke by @duffs-shot-glass

broken by @axlsangel

~~~

james hetfield

picnic by @anna-n-hetfield

saying hi 🗽 by @you-can-call-me-wanda

cold nights 🗽 by @31-4am

~~~

eddie munson, ig

jon bon jovi isn't very family friendly by @ridestomars 🗽

wrapped around your finger by @lilacletter

~~~

𝖗𝖔𝖈𝖐𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘

𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

Axl Rose

1982 by @lost-in-the-80s

Wife sharing by @duffslut

Still mad? by @duffslut

Talk to me by @duffslut

Old money by @duffslut​

Duff McKagan

Threesome by @rockthingsbymeg

Cry baby by @duffslut

Ultraviolence by @duffslut​

Choking by @thesmokingguns

Slash / Saul Hudson

Threesome by @rockthingsbymeg

Raw Power by @s-lasxh

Birthday Boy by @s-lasxh

Somebody’s is watching me by @s-lasxh

Tangerine by @zaynsxsoul

Dance for me by @axlsangel

The stripclub by @slashxrose​

Izzy Stradlin

Wife sharing by @duffslut

Steven Adler

Terrible Twos by @tuffduff​

Drum Studio by @duffslut

Nikki Sixx

From the source by @metal-mxddy

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

Guns N’ Roses

Main Masterlist

𝕊𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕙

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤: 𝟙

𝕃𝕒𝕥𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 - 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝔼𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕪 𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 - 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝕄𝕚𝕕𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 - 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

ℍ𝕠𝕥 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕤 - 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕪 - 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕔

𝔸𝕤𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 - 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

𝔸𝕩𝕝 ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤: 𝟙

𝔸𝕤𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 - 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

𝔻𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝕄𝕔𝕂𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕟

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤:

𝕀𝕫𝕫𝕪 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕚𝕟

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤:

ℂ𝕚𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 - 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝕊𝕥𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝔸𝕕𝕝𝕖𝕣

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤:

megadeth masterlist౨ৎ

౨ৎ smut= ❦ fluff= 𖤐 angst= 𓉸

dave

𓋹 dating dave mustaine would include

𓋹 dave mustaine nsfw headcannons

𓋹 dave mustaine nsfw alphabet

𓋹 fiery redheads (feat. axl) ❦

𓋹 solace 𖤐

𓋹 next tour 𖤐

𓋹 eternal madness 𖤐

𓋹 chill out 𓉸 𖤐

𓋹 avant-garde 𖤐

𓋹 necklace ❦

𓋹 my girl ❦ 𖤐

𓋹 tornado 𖤐

𓋹 piece by piece 𓉸

𓋹 witchy woman 𖤐

𓋹 i'm not done yet ❦

𓋹 night to remember ❦ 𖤐

𓋹 quiet hands, steady heart 𖤐

𓋹 one long roadtrip ❦ 𖤐 𓉸

𓋹 comfortable in my skin ❦ 𖤐

𓋹 whirlwind ❦ 𖤐 𓉸

𓋹 one of those days 𖤐

𓋹 ink ❦ 𖤐 𓉸

𓋹 already lost ❦

𓋹 deep pink ❦

𓋹 this is real ❦ (spice for sure, it's a makeout sesh)

𓋹 jars of herbs ❦

𓋹 studio heat ❦ 𓉸

nick

𓋹 dating nick menza would include

𓋹 nick menza nsfw headcannons

𓋹 nick menza nsfw alphabet

𓋹 race of hearts 𖤐

𓋹 i plan on keeping you 𖤐 ❦

𓋹 riachtanas 𖤐 ❦

marty

𓋹 hook in mouth 𖤐 ❦

motley crue masterlist ౨ৎ

౨ৎ smut= ❦ fluff= 𖤐 angst= 𓉸

nikki

𓋹 dating nikki sixx would include

𓋹 nikki sixx nsfw headcannons

𓋹 nikki sixx nsfw alphabet

𓋹 silk scarf (bdsm) ❦

𓋹 fractured 𓉸

𓋹 friends (feat. izzy) 𓉸

𓋹 more than enough 𖤐 𓉸

𓋹 fucking terrible ❦ (this is humour lol)

𓋹 i think i'm in love with you 𖤐

𓋹 tangled mess ❦

𓋹 i could be the judge of that (feat. tommy) ❦ 𖤐

𓋹 this pretty ❦

𓋹 dye hard 𖤐

𓋹 renegades (feat. tommy) ❦

𓋹 now this is podracing 𖤐

tommy

𓋹 dating tommy lee would include

𓋹 softly (feat. pam) ❦

𓋹 make me ❦

𓋹 i could be the judge of that (feat. nikki) ❦ 𖤐

𓋹 renegades (feat. nikki) ❦

vince

𓋹 vince neil nsfw alphabet

𓋹 relentless 𖤐

𓋹 attached (pt.2 of relentless) 𖤐

mick

𓋹 composure ❦

the whole band

𓋹 dating all the motley crue members would include

𓋹 motley crue nsfw headcannons (harem)

𓋹 motley crue as fathers

guns and roses masterlist ౨ৎ

౨ৎ all of my gnr fics!

౨ৎ smut= ❦ fluff= 𖤐 angst= 𓉸

slash

𓋹 dating slash would include

𓋹 slash nsfw alphabet

𓋹 slash dating a model would include

𓋹 slash dating the guitarist of a metal band would include

𓋹 slasha (a christmas fic) 𖤐

𓋹 turn the tables ❦

𓋹 merry christmas ❦ 𖤐

𓋹 surrender ❦

𓋹 double trouble (feat. axl) ❦

𓋹 after the spotlight (feat. izzy) 𖤐

𓋹 fantasy (feat. axl) ❦

𓋹 fight night ❦

𓋹 hinting (feat. duff) ❦

𓋹 so responsive ❦ 𓉸

𓋹 you have no idea ❦

𓋹 broken jukebox 𖤐

𓋹 go crazy sweetheart ❦ 𖤐

𓋹 white-hot ❦

𓋹 laws of love 𖤐

𓋹 a little dream 𖤐

𓋹 through the darkness (feat. axl) 𖤐

𓋹 wicked grin (feat. axl) ❦

𓋹 bad night, good love ❦ 𓉸

𓋹 scrutiny (feat. axl) ❦ 𓉸 𖤐

izzy

𓋹 dating izzy stradlin would include

𓋹 izzy stradlin nsfw headcannons

𓋹 izzy stradlin nsfw alphabet

𓋹 izzy stradlin fics (masterlist is way too crowded)

axl

𓋹 dating axl rose would include

𓋹 axl rose dating a victoria's secret model

𓋹 axl rose nsfw alphabet

𓋹 axl rose nsfw headcannons

𓋹 axl rose scent headcannons

𓋹 axl rose and a young girlfriend

𓋹 axl rose fics (masterlist was getting crowded lol)

duff

𓋹 dating duff mckagan would include

𓋹 duff mckagan dating the guitarist of a metal band

𓋹 duff mckagan nsfw alphabet

𓋹 hangout (feat. izzy) ❦ 𖤐 𓉸

𓋹 center stage (feat. izzy) ❦ 𖤐

𓋹 cozy (feat. izzy) 𖤐

𓋹 meet the family 𖤐

𓋹 embarrassing 𓉸 ❦

𓋹 hinting (feat. slash) ❦

𓋹 one more time ❦

𓋹 rough handling (feat. izzy) ❦

𓋹 i can't ❦

𓋹 old friends, new feelings 𖤐

𓋹 silencing (feat. axl) ❦

𓋹 soft spine ❦

steven

𓋹 dating steven adler would include

𓋹 steven adler nsfw alphabet

𓋹 waited 𖤐

𓋹 vegas ❦ 𖤐

𓋹 welled ❦

𓋹 heaven's door ❦ 𖤐 𓉸

richard

𓋹 the sweetest ❦ 𖤐

the whole group

𓋹 dating all the guns n roses members would include

𓋹 behind the curtains ❦

𓋹 part of the band 𖤐

𓋹 appetite for destruction ❦

𓋹 juice box with ice 𓉸 𖤐

𓋹 working with ❦

𓋹 plaything ❦

Lost Star | l.jh

Pairing: Producer Woozi x ex-trainee reader

Genre: First Love, Reunion, Second Change

Type: Slow Burn, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 14k

Summary: Jihoon had lost the star of his heart a long time ago. However, 11 years later, his lost star appears, and his heart never feels more conflicted.

Jihoon counted his steps from his new apartment unit to the convenience store with a slow, measured pace. The clock pointed to four in the afternoon, and all he needed was a single pack of ramen—something simple to soothe his mind. Soonyoung had visited the day before and deliberately left it off Jihoon's grocery list, citing health reasons with a smug grin.

"We're in our thirties now. Let’s eat healthier, Jihoon."

Did Jihoon care? Not really. He’d been going to the gym religiously for years. Ate vegetables and fruits after every meal like some disciplined monk. But sometimes—like today, when his brain felt sluggish and creativity hit a wall—he just wanted to boil a portion of ramen. Let the MSG fill his kitchen, fog up his windows, and trick his dopamine into working again. Sometimes, that salty warmth was all it took to unlock a melody worth recording on his phone.

So now he had to get it himself. Again.

Exposing himself to the daylight wasn’t the worst thing, he figured. One of the reasons he moved to this new neighborhood was because it was closer to the company building. Seungcheol had said the area was peaceful, and Jihoon agreed—at first.

That was before he saw you again.

Before the surreal gut punch of recognizing you behind the counter at the convenience store.

Before the awkward silence that stretched too long between two people who used to dream under the same roof.

He could walk to that store. The one where you worked. Pretend to be just another customer craving the nation’s favorite instant noodles. But his heart wouldn’t let him. Not after that accidental reunion. Not after your eyes widened just a little, then dropped just as quickly. Not after both of you pretended it didn’t happen.

For the past two days, Jihoon had been walking around with this subtle ache in his chest—a kind of guilt he couldn’t explain. Maybe it wasn’t his fault you disappeared, but somehow, the silence that followed still made him feel like an asshole.

Meeting you again was never on his to-do list for the year.

Not after eleven years.

Not after your sudden disappearance during the trainee days—when everything had felt like it was about to begin, and then you were just… gone.

But who would’ve expected you to work there too?

The further convenience store. The one Jihoon deliberately chose to walk to—solely to avoid seeing you again.

“Is it possible to work in two different convenience stores?"

He found himself asking that question to his manager, offhandedly, while they were on the way to a schedule a day after he saw you for the second time that week.

It haunted him.

Not in a horror-movie way, but in that quiet, persistent kind of way that made his chest heavy and his mind foggy. So much so, he’d forgotten how to make music.

He couldn’t even count the hours he’d spent staring blankly at his studio screen, letting beats loop endlessly without direction. Every time he sat down, memories of the trainee days swelled like echoes in the room. His keyboard—usually his safe place—suddenly looked like the old one from the practice room.

And just like that, he’d be back in time. Sitting beside you, both of your fingers grazing the keys, your heads low in shared concentration while chaos unfolded around you—Soonyoung falling over, Seungcheol screaming his puberty out, the usual mess.

“I think it’s possible,” his manager said. “With different shifts, I mean.”

“Why? You thinking of working at a convenience store now?” his manager joked, glancing over while keeping one hand on the wheel.

Jihoon let out a small chuckle.

He had too many zeros in his bank account for that kind of lifestyle—and far too little energy to immerse himself in a brand-new job culture. Honestly, just the idea of small talk with strangers all day made him tired.

“If you were talking to Dino, he might say yes to your suggestion, hyung,” Jihoon replied, resting his head back against the seat.

His manager laughed. “I know, right? But still, it’s the first time I’ve heard you bring up something so... not you. Lee Jihoon, behind a convenience store counter?”

Jihoon grinned, a little more amused than he expected. “Hey, I might be great at it. I was a hard worker during trainee days, remember? You forgot already?”

His manager—one of the oldest on the team, someone who’d seen Jihoon through his fiery teenage years and his stubborn perfectionist era—just let out a warm, knowing laugh.

“Trainee days must’ve been tough, huh?” he said after a beat. “You did well, Jihoon. Seriously. Good job.”

And for a moment, Jihoon didn’t say anything. The corner of his lips twitching up. Compliments always made him awkward—but coming from someone who saw the whole messy journey? It settled differently. Deeper.

“Hyung… do you remember a female trainee named Ji Y/n?”

His manager glanced at him, then nodded. “Of course. She was an ace. Everyone thought she’d debut for sure. But she just... disappeared. I always wondered what happened. Did the company drop her? Did you ever hear anything?”

Jihoon slowly shook his head, eyes shifting toward the road outside. A convenience store passed by in a blur, and for a second, his heart clenched.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “Everyone asked around back then. It was just the four of us at first—me, Soonyoung, Coups hyung, and her.”

His voice softened at the memory, almost reverent.

Jihoon hadn’t realized it until recently, but somewhere along the way—after he debuted, after the whirlwind of success—he had stopped questioning your disappearance. The noise of the industry had drowned out the ache. He buried it under practice schedules, tour dates, and deadlines.

But the truth was...

Somewhere deep inside his heart, there was still a space carved out for the quiet longing.

A small, unspoken ache that whispered, Where did she go? Is she okay?

And now, after seeing you again—after all these years—he wondered if that ache had never really left.

Maybe you were the ghost that had always haunted him.

*

Back then, small Jihoon didn’t know what to do with himself during his early trainee days. Everything felt overwhelming—the routines, the expectations, the constant pressure to improve. But he was quietly relieved to find comfort in two people: an older boy named Seungcheol, and a same-age friend, Soonyoung. The three of them stuck together, quietly enduring every class, never once daring to complain out loud.

Then one day, a new face entered the frame.

The vocal instructor introduced her as a transfer trainee—someone with experience from a major entertainment company. They were told to learn from her. Study her discipline, her skill, her presence.

And that’s when you, Ji Y/n, walked into the green practice room with an assertive smile painted confidently on your face. Like you had no doubts. Like you already knew your path. Like the stage was already yours.

You glowed.

It wasn’t just your visuals—though Jihoon would admit, even then, you were an eye candy in the middle of their hard, exhausting days. But it was more than that. You had aura. The kind that lit up the room. The kind that made people look up when you passed by.

You shared generously with them—tips, stories, encouragement. You could sing. You could dance. You even rapped with surprising ease. Every evaluation, you impressed the supervisors without fail. And of course, everyone expected no less from someone who had come from a bigger company.

Jihoon remembered watching you from the back of the room, sweaty from practice, trying to hide the envy in his eyes behind admiration.

You were everything he wasn’t yet.

And everything he quietly wished to become.

Jihoon clearly remembered the day you casually mentioned that you were learning how to produce music. You said you’d picked it up from an older trainee at your previous company, brushing it off with a humble smile. “I’m not that good,” you claimed.

But to young Jihoon, Seungcheol, and Soonyoung, you might as well have been a genius. The three of them watched you with stars in their eyes, completely captivated. It was their first time witnessing someone actually create a song—piecing together melodies, layering harmonies, experimenting with beats—and it lit a spark in them. In Jihoon especially, something shifted.

“Did you learn it from G-Dragon of Bigbang?” Soonyoung had asked with innocent curiosity, eyes wide.

Everyone laughed, but Jihoon didn’t forget that moment.

Looking back, he realized—

That was the exact point when he started seeing you as a star.

Jihoon leaned back in his studio chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling as an old song played softly in the background. It was one he had produced years ago—rough around the edges, unfinished, but alive with memories.

He had sent nearly ten messages to Seungcheol earlier, pestering him about whether he still had the old folder filled with their trainee-day demos. And now, with the files finally playing through the speakers, Jihoon felt himself slipping into the past.

None of the tracks were perfect. Far from it. But each one carried a piece of who they were back then—ambitious, reckless, hopeful.

Seungcheol’s voice came in first, mid-puberty and full of effort. His rap stumbled a little, but the fire was there. Jihoon chuckled when he heard the word “Elevation” in one of the lines. How did teenage Seungcheol even know that word? Had he been reading dictionaries between dance classes?

Then came your voice.

Soft. Grounded. Not the kind of high-pitched perfection producers chased today, but something more—something real. There was honesty in your tone, a raw emotion that pulled him in even after all these years.

Jihoon closed his eyes.

Do you still sing like that?

*

Jihoon didn’t see you when he first stepped into the convenience store tonight. The last time he came, it was during the night shift—maybe this time, it wasn’t your turn. A small part of him felt relieved.

He walked through the automatic doors with the simple intention of grabbing another pack of ramen. A soft hum echoed faintly through the aisle, and as he turned the corner, he found the source.

There you were—crouched down, restocking shelves.

You flinched at the sudden awareness of his presence, nearly losing your balance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you coming,” you said quickly, bowing your head politely before walking away with a full restock basket in hand.

Jihoon parted his lips, wanting to say something—to stop you—but the moment passed too quickly. You were already gone.

He turned his eyes toward the rows of ramen, but his mind had long wandered. The image of you behind the convenience store counter was a stark contrast to the version of you etched into his memories.

You—once the ace trainee, confident and radiant, someone the instructors praised, someone the rest of them watched in awe—now stood beneath flickering fluorescent lights, wearing a clerk’s uniform and scanning barcodes. It was jarring. And it hurt in ways Jihoon couldn’t name.

“What is this?” Soonyoung pointed at the suspiciously large stack of ramen stuffed into one of Jihoon’s kitchen cabinets while he rummaged around for coffee.

With arms crossed and a judgmental stare, he turned toward the living room where Jihoon was sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to his phone as he mindlessly scrolled through the webcomic he’d been hooked on lately.

“What?” Jihoon lifted his head lazily, following Soonyoung’s gaze toward the open cabinet.

“There’s like… fifteen packs of ramen in here. Do you even eat these?” Soonyoung asked, brows furrowed in disbelief.

Jihoon nodded, eyes flicking back to his phone. “I do. Sometimes,” he replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.

Soonyoung tilted his head with a mix of annoyance and concern. “Didn’t I tell you to stop eating junk? What happened to eating healthy?”

Jihoon let out a soft chuckle, amused. “You sound like a wife.”

Soonyoung scoffed dramatically as he finally located the coffee powder and slammed the cabinet shut. “I’d make a great wife, thank you very much.”

He shot Jihoon a look as if daring him to disagree, but Jihoon just smirked, raising an eyebrow like he agreed—at least a little.

Soonyoung didn’t say anything after that. The kitchen fell into a soft quiet, broken only by the clinking of a spoon stirring coffee. Jihoon stayed on the couch, but his thoughts wandered.

He thought about his new, strange habit—buying a pack of ramen almost every night. Always just one. Never to eat. He let them pile up in the cabinet like forgotten mementos. He never said why. Because he knew the reason. And saying it out loud would make it too real.

“By the way…” Soonyoung broke the silence as he walked over to the couch, settling beside Jihoon with a glass of iced coffee in hand.

“The convenience store a block from here—”

Jihoon’s body tensed. His eyes shot up, and he sat up straighter, alarmed. “Why?” he asked, a little too quickly.

Soonyoung blinked, startled by the sudden reaction. “What’s with you?” he asked, puzzled.

Jihoon quickly shook his head, brushing it off. “Nothing. Just—keep going. What about the store?”

“I was just gonna say…” Soonyoung sipped his coffee, still eyeing Jihoon. “They started selling Kkokkalcorn and Matdongsan again—the ones we used to destroy during trainee days.”

Jihoon let out a soft sigh. The tension left his shoulders as quickly as it had appeared. He leaned back against the couch cushions again, suddenly feeling silly. For a second, he thought Soonyoung had seen you.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Cool.”

But the tightness in his chest didn’t fully fade. Because while Soonyoung was thinking about snacks, Jihoon was still thinking about you.

*

Jihoon raised his brows in confusion, standing still in front of the cashier counter. You had just slid a small bottle of vitamin drink across to him after he’d paid for what must’ve been his twentieth pack of ramen this month.

“You should start taking care of your health,” you murmured, not quite meeting his eyes.

He blinked. Did you really think he was eating all those ramens? Of course you did. Anyone would.

He took a quiet breath, a little too sharp, and grabbed the vitamin drink. “Thanks,” he mumbled, voice slightly rough as if it had caught on something in his chest.

With that, he turned and walked toward the door. His steps felt heavier than they should, dragging under the fluorescent lights and quiet pop music in the background. The clock behind the register read 2:04 a.m.—his work could wait. That wasn’t why he came tonight anyway.

He stopped just before pushing the door open, something tugging at him.

“You still sing?” he asked, without turning around at first.

When he finally looked back, his eyes met yours.

The question lingered in the air between you—simple, but heavy. Like it had taken him years to ask, and now that he had, everything might shift.

You looked taken aback by his question. “Me?”

Jihoon nodded slowly. “Yeah… do you still sing, Ji Y/n?”

Silence settled between you. Not awkward—just heavy, like the universe paused for a moment to let Jihoon hear himself say it. After nearly a month of seeing you again—glimpses, passing words, late-night convenience store visits—he had finally asked the question that had haunted him more times than he could count.

But you tilted your head slightly, your voice light, accompanied by a soft, teasing smile. “No ‘how are you?’ first?”

Jihoon huffed out a breath, half-laughing at himself, shaking off the embarrassment. Of course, that’s what you’d say. You were always that girl—calm, confident, casually radiant in your own way. You knew how to disarm people without even trying.

Taking a few steps closer, he gave in. “Okay, fine. How are you?”

This time, your smile softened into something real. “I’m great… How about you, Woozi?”

Jihoon’s heart clenched at the nickname. Not in a way that hurt—but in a way that burst something open inside him. Warm. Familiar. Breath-stealing.

Woozi. You were the one who gave him that name.

There was a phase when you grew close to some of the senior artists in the company. They adored Jihoon, calling him in a playful, affectionate tone that never failed to make you laugh during practice.

“Our Jihoon… Our Jihoon…”

“Our Jihoon got the step wrong?”

You’d mimic them with a teasing grin, and the other trainees would burst into laughter. Jihoon, on the other hand, could only lower his head, trying to hide the pink dusting his cheeks. No one needed to know just how much that nickname affected him.

“Uji?” Soonyoung, who had just proudly settled on his stage name ‘Hoshi,’ chirped excitedly, offering the shortened form of Uri Jihoon—Our Jihoon.

Jihoon groaned in frustration, clearly unimpressed. “Please, no.”

The room echoed with laughter, everyone amused by the suggestion—everyone except Jihoon.

But then your voice cut through the noise, calm and certain. “Woozi… sounds more sophisticated, right?”

Jihoon turned his head, catching the gleam in your eyes. You were seated cross-legged on the studio floor, marker cap between your fingers, looking at him like he was something more than just another trainee. Like you saw something already formed within him.

Without waiting for approval, you stood up, walked to the whiteboard, and uncapped the marker. With neat, confident strokes, you wrote the name.

Woozi.

Jihoon took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the slippers on his feet before slowly lifting back to where you stood behind the counter.

"I'm..." he started, arms falling open at his sides as if gesturing to his entire self—his tired eyes, messy hair, and the bag of ramen crinkling in his hand.

You let out a soft laugh at his little gesture.

"I'm still the same," he said with a shrug and a small, helpless smile.

He saw you glance down, a chuckle slipping from your lips as you bit back a smile, covering it with your hand. "That’s great," you said, voice warm, eyes flickering up to meet his.

Then you tilted your head, teasing lightly, "So... does ramen help with your music now or something?"

Jihoon exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "It’s not the ramen," he murmured, and something in his tone hinted that there was more to the story.

A gentle silence settled between the two of you, stretching just long enough for both your hearts to beat twice. Then Jihoon spoke again, voice quieter this time.

"I'm glad you're okay."

You nodded slowly, a small but genuine smile tugging at your lips. "Me too."

The soft chime of the door interrupted the moment as a new customer entered. You turned immediately to greet them, your professional smile slipping into place as you lifted your restocking basket again and headed toward the drink section.

Jihoon lingered for a second longer, watching your back before finally stepping out into the night—with a heart that, for the first time in a long while, felt a little lighter.

*

How could someone be this chronically offline?

Okay, Jihoon was, too—kind of. But not like this. He had social media, even if he barely posted, and his company profile existed with at least a few photos and a bio. But you? You were a complete digital ghost.

No record. No trace. No tagged photos, no mutuals, nothing.

Were you using a different name now? A secret username?

He rubbed his temples in frustration, eyes scanning the last of the open tabs before giving up.

Jihoon sighed heavily and dropped his head beside the keyboard, forehead grazing the cool surface of his desk.

He'd started to question if you were even real—or some elaborate figment from his overworked, nostalgic brain.

"Is she a ghost?" he muttered, his voice half annoyed, half amused, as he sat back up and began closing one social media tab after another.

Click. Click. Click.

With five tabs gone and zero results to show for it, Jihoon finally leaned back in his chair and returned to his work—though your absence lingered louder than any background noise.

The next day, Jihoon invited Hansol to his studio, letting him be the first to hear the song he had worked on the night before.

“It’s not perfect—it’s still raw,” Jihoon said, his voice quiet but edged with anticipation as he clicked the play button.

The room filled with the soft rise of synths, layered with ambient textures that pulsed gently through the speakers. Hansol raised his brows in surprise, the corners of his mouth twitching into an impressed smile. He began nodding along, fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest of the chair.

“This is... very different from your usual stuff,” Hansol said, glancing over with interest.

Jihoon nodded slowly, already aware. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes focused on the screen even though he wasn’t really looking at anything.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “I know.”

Hansol chuckled once the song faded out. “Last month you said you lost your sense. What’s this then?” he asked, amusement flickering in his tone.

Jihoon let out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe moving out sparked something. Change of scenery might’ve rebooted my creativity.”

Hansol pointed a finger at him knowingly. “Exactly! So, how’s the new house?”

“It’s great. Bigger space, definitely more comfortable for me. The cats are still going crazy trying to adapt, though.” Jihoon smiled faintly, eyes softening at the thought. “But I feel at ease. Finally.”

Hansol nodded, genuinely listening. “I figured as much. I was worried about you, hyung. Even Coups-hyung mentioned you asked the staff for old pre-debut folders. I thought, ‘Oh no, Jihoon’s really at his breaking point.’”

Jihoon chuckled, clearly entertained by Hansol’s concern. “Nah, not yet. I’m grateful it hasn’t hit the limit.”

“Good,” Hansol said, leaning back in relief. “Because if you go down, we all go down.”

Jihoon smirked. “Then I better stay afloat, huh?”

A heavy silence settled between them, stretching long enough to feel intentional. Jihoon tapped his fingers lightly against his knee before finally speaking, his voice low.

“Do you remember that one female trainee who just disappeared one day?”

Hansol’s expression shifted instantly. “Of course,” he said without hesitation. “She was in the debut line. Y/n, right?”

Jihoon nodded slowly, eyes drifting toward the studio wall. “Yeah… I ran into her recently.”

Hansol straightened a little. “Seriously? Where?”

“At a convenience store,” Jihoon replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “She works there now.”

Hansol looked genuinely surprised, his brows lifted. “Wow. That’s... unexpected.”

Jihoon didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped to the floor, lips pressed together. “She looks the same,” he said softly. “But there’s something different too. I don’t know... It messed with my head a bit.”

Hansol tilted his head. “You talked to her?”

“A little. Nothing deep.” Jihoon rubbed the back of his neck. “But just seeing her again... it brought back more than I thought it would.”

Hansol leaned back in the chair, a nostalgic smile spreading across his face. “She was pretty much a celebrity back then.”

Jihoon gave a small scoff, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Yeah… everyone knew her name. Even the vocal trainers talked about how fast she picked things up.”

“She had that vibe, you know? Confident. Chill. Like she didn’t need to try too hard,” Hansol added, his voice tinged with fondness.

Jihoon hummed in agreement, eyes lost in some far-off thought. “Yeah... she always felt like she was meant for something big.”

Hansol glanced at him. “So what happened? Did she say why she left?”

Jihoon hesitated, then shook his head. “No. I didn’t ask.” A beat passed. “And I don’t think she’d tell me, even if I did.”

Hansol didn’t push further. Jihoon’s voice had softened into something almost unreadable.

There were things Jihoon wasn’t saying. And maybe he wasn’t ready to.

Not yet.

*

Jihoon sat at the small table in front of the convenience store, phone in hand, aimlessly scrolling as he waited for your shift to end. Earlier, he had walked into the store with all the courage he'd gathered since stepping out of his apartment. He needed you to hear the song. The thought had been haunting him for days, and tonight, he was being braver than he’d ever been.

“When does your shift end?” Jihoon asked, setting a bottle of Zero Coke on the counter.

“In twenty,” you replied, a little caught off guard by his sudden visit.

Jihoon simply nodded, paid with his phone, and grabbed the drink. “Okay. I’ll wait for you,” he said casually before turning on his heel and walking out, not giving you time to respond. He didn’t dare look back. He was too nervous to care how confused you looked.

Now, he watched from the table as you reappeared, changed out of your uniform and ready to go. You walked over holding another vitamin drink, setting it in front of him as you sat across the table.

Jihoon chuckled at the sight. “I don’t have those unhealthy habits anymore, Y/n.”

“So you eat your vegetables now?” you teased.

Jihoon laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I’m not that hopeless.”

You leaned back slightly, eyeing him curiously. “So what is this, Jihoon? What do you want from me?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulled out his earphones and plugged them into his phone. “You know I don’t do small talk,” he muttered, handing you one of the earbuds. “I want you to hear something. It’s rough, the lyrics are still nonsense, but… I want your opinion.”

You raised an eyebrow. “My opinion? You’re the one making a living writing songs, Jihoon.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Just listen first.”

“This isn’t your style,” you said once the song ended. Your voice was calm, almost casual, but there was a trace of something else—familiarity. Like you knew his sound, like you’d been paying attention all along. And something inside Jihoon stirred with quiet hope.

He nodded slowly. “It’s not. It’s yours.”

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “I don’t have a style, Jihoon.”

Without saying anything, Jihoon opened his phone and pulled up a SoundCloud profile. He turned the screen toward you. “This is you, right?”

There it was—your old stage name as the username, your song watermark sitting in the bio like a timestamp from a past life.

Your eyes widened. “You looked for that?” you asked, half laughing in disbelief. “You’re crazy.”

Jihoon shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe. But it was the only place I could still hear your voice.”

You stared at the screen for a second longer before looking up at him. “So… what’s your intention with all this, Jihoon?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes dropped to the bottle of zero coke in his hand, thumb running absentmindedly along the rim. Then he looked at you, fully, like he was trying to read something in your face before saying it.

“I want you to sing it,” he said quietly. “For the demo.”

You blinked. “What?”

Jihoon took a deep breath. “I wrote it with your voice in my head. I don’t know why, but I kept hearing you. Not just any vocal—it had to be you.”

You looked away, biting the inside of your cheek. “Jihoon… it’s been years.”

“I know.”

“I haven’t even sung properly in—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “I just… I couldn’t let this one go. I need your voice to bring it to life. Even if it's just a demo.”

His voice was calm, but you could tell it was costing him everything to stay that way.

You looked at him again, brows slightly furrowed. “And after that?”

Jihoon hesitated. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

A quiet laugh escaped you, more out of nerves than amusement. “That’s very unlike you.”

“I know,” he repeated, softer this time. “But this… this just felt right.”

You looked at him for a long moment, the weight of shared history hanging between you.

Then your gaze dropped to your hands, fingers brushing against the condensation on your drink bottle. “I don’t know if I can, Jihoon.”

He tilted his head, watching you quietly. “Why not?”

You took a breath, but the words felt heavier than you expected. “Because music… it used to mean something different to me. It was everything, and then it wasn’t. And now, I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what I am with it.”

Jihoon didn’t interrupt. He waited, the silence around you stretching like a safety net rather than pressure.

You forced a laugh, more bitter than you intended. “You said you heard my voice, but I haven’t even let myself sing in years. I don’t know if I even like how I sound anymore. What if I’ve forgotten how to feel it?”

Jihoon leaned back, resting his arms on the table. “Then let’s just try. Not as a job. Not for the industry. Just you and me, like we used to.” His eyes softened. “You don’t have to be who you were. You just have to be honest.”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers now picking at the edge of the label on your drink. “It’s complicated. You don’t understand, Jihoon.”

*

You stared at the old blue mp3 player Jihoon had left for you. Not a file sent through a messaging app, not an email attachment—just this little, scratched device loaded with his new demo. A relic of the past, almost stubborn in its simplicity. Holding it felt like touching a memory, one that pulled you back to a time when everything was filled with laughter and reckless dreams. No tears of regret, just passion.

With a quiet sigh, you set the mp3 player on the chipped table in your cramped studio apartment and shuffled toward the tiny kitchenette. The kettle’s hum filled the silence as you reached for another cup of instant noodles. You had lost count of how many you’d eaten this week. But counting anything had become pointless long ago—especially the years since your parents died.

You were eighteen. It was just another exhausting training day when the manager called you out of the practice room, his expression uncharacteristically somber. He told you, in a voice that tried to sound steady, that your parents had been in a car accident. Out of town. Fatal.

Shock was too small a word. You didn’t know what to feel, didn’t know how to react. You hadn’t been close with them—not in the way families in dramas were. No warm hugs, no heartfelt talks. Just the distant, dutiful exchanges of a family that functioned but never flourished.

Your uncle and aunt arrived in Seoul a day later, somber and silent. They promised to take you home to South Jeolla—promised you would return soon, that you could continue chasing your dream. But those promises were lies, whispered only to keep you from protesting.

Seoul faded into the rearview mirror, and so did your dream. What was once a life bursting with dance practices, vocal lessons, and late-night laughter with your trainee friends turned into the quiet humdrum of rural life. The city lights you once knew blurred into distant memories, and the path you’d so fiercely pursued buried itself with your parents.

You sought help from the company, but by then, everyone already knew. Knew your parents were gone, knew your uncle had taken over their business, and knew he’d cut off the funds your father used to send every month. Sympathy turned into avoidance. Promises of support dissolved into awkward silences. No one listened. No one reached out.

And so you were alone—alone with a dream that withered before it could bloom.

You didn’t finish school. Never went to college. No work experience worth mentioning. Your uncle’s family kept the business for themselves, never offering you a share, never once asking what you planned to do with your life.

"Life is so full," you muttered as you settled back at the table, snapping your chopsticks apart before stirring the steaming noodles. The warmth touched your lips, a poor but familiar comfort—the only warmth you’d felt in a long time.

"Full of shit." Your gaze drifted back to the mp3 player.

There was no way Jihoon was serious about wanting to hear you sing again. Not after everything. Not when you’d buried that part of yourself so deeply, you almost forgot it was ever real.

*

You went to Seoul without anyone knowing a year after Seventeen debuted. Covered from head to toe, you slipped into a crowded broadcasting show, watching them perform with the same intensity as always—driven, passionate, like nothing had changed. But for you, everything had.

As if fate couldn’t resist irony, you bumped into an old manager. His eyes widened, recognition breaking through his initial shock.

"Y/n?" he whispered, his voice tight, as though saying your name might summon a ghost.

You stood still, hands shoved deep in your pockets, your expression unreadable. "I heard the girls are debuting," you said simply, ignoring his question.

He glanced around nervously before grabbing your arm, pulling you aside. "You shouldn’t be here. The vice president is here."

"Can I talk to him?"

"What are you thinking? You can’t just disappear and then show up expecting to talk to him."

"Disappear? I didn’t disappear. Everyone knows what happened to me. They knew, and no one looked for me."

You found yourself humming to the demo Jihoon handed you. Your hand paused mid-motion, a soda can hovering just above the fridge shelf. You had listened to it, finally—maybe not much, or so you told yourself. But you listened until you fell asleep. And now, without even realizing it, you’d been humming it all day. The melody lingered, familiar and strange, wrapped in the warmth of guitar riffs and a band sound Jihoon rarely touched before.

Later, you caught yourself typing sentences into your phone’s notes. Drafting lyrics, deleting one word only to replace it with another, trying to fit them against a melody that seemed to cling to your thoughts. You were even considering a theme—the song didn’t even have one yet. What were you doing?

Jihoon stepped into the convenience store, the familiar chime signaling his entrance. He glanced toward the counter, but you weren’t there. Instead, faintly, from the back room, he heard it—a soft, almost tentative melody.

His brows knit together as he moved closer, ears straining to catch the sound. It was his song. And it wasn’t just playing—it was being sung.

He paused by the door to the storage room, not daring to move any closer. Your voice, clear and a little rough around the edges, wove through the notes with an effortless familiarity. You were humming the melody, occasionally mumbling words that you hadn’t quite settled on yet, but the sound was unmistakably yours.

Jihoon didn’t breathe for a moment, his chest tight. You didn’t even notice him, too caught up in the rhythm, stocking shelves while lost in the music.

A smile broke out on his face, small but undeniable. He hadn’t heard you sing in years, not since back when everything was simpler, when music didn’t feel like a burden.

Suddenly, you spun around, a soda can still in your hand, and froze. Your eyes widened, caught mid-hum, and Jihoon had to bite back a laugh at how startled you looked.

“Oh,” you managed, your voice betraying both surprise and a hint of embarrassment. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Jihoon leaned against the doorframe, his smile soft but genuine. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, his tone low and careful. “You sounded... really good.”

You looked down, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s just—just stuck in my head,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant as you resumed stacking the cans.

Jihoon hesitated, unsure if he should push or let it go. But the chance felt too precious to pass up. “That’s a good sign, right?” he asked, stepping further into the room. “Means it’s catchy.”

You shrugged, still not meeting his gaze. “Maybe.”

Jihoon shifted his weight, trying to keep his voice casual. “Were you… coming up with lyrics earlier?”

You froze for a fraction of a second, fingers hovering over the last soda can. “Maybe.”

“Do I get to hear them?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes a little too hopeful.

You straightened, closing the fridge door with a soft thud. “No.”

He blinked, surprised by your bluntness, but there was no sting—just a quiet laugh. “Why not?”

“Because they’re not ready. They’re just… thoughts,” you muttered, crossing your arms, feeling defensive even though he hadn’t done anything. “They might not even make sense.”

Jihoon nodded slowly, stepping back slightly to give you space. “Okay. No pressure.”

But that only made you feel worse. You leaned against the wall, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s just… I don’t even know what I’m doing, Jihoon.”

“Writing lyrics, apparently,” he teased, but his voice was gentle.

You glanced at him, and the earnest look on his face melted away some of your frustration. “The theme… it’s about being there for someone. Like… promising to be there, even when they think they’re alone.”

Jihoon’s smile faded, replaced by a quiet understanding. He stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence. “That’s… powerful,” he murmured. “It’s honest.”

You bit your lip, hesitating again. “I don’t know if it’s any good.”

“I want to hear it,” he said, voice unwavering. “Even if it’s just a draft.”

You stared at him, searching for any sign of pity or insincerity. But Jihoon was just there, waiting—patient, unwavering.

Finally, with a sigh, you pulled out your phone, scrolling to the notes app. “Fine, but if you laugh—”

“I won’t,” he promised.

You stepped closer, handing him the phone. Jihoon’s eyes scanned the words, his expression shifting subtly as he read. His fingers lightly brushed the edge of your phone, his lips moving soundlessly along with the lyrics.

Seconds stretched into a minute. Then another.

When he finally looked up, his eyes were a little brighter, his voice softer. “Y/n… this is beautiful.”

You swallowed, feeling your chest tighten. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Jihoon whispered. “It’s… it’s everything I wanted the song to say but didn’t know how.”

You looked away, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “Well… now you do.”

He chuckled, the sound light and almost relieved. “Now I do.”

And for a moment, standing there in the quiet hum of the storage room, it felt like you were back in a place where music was more than just sound—where it was a language, something only you and Jihoon could speak.

*

You sat on the leather couch in a studio, fingers twisted together, watching Jihoon work in his element. He hadn’t said much since you both arrived—just a few clicks of his mouse, a quiet hum under his breath, and the soft glow of the monitor lighting his focused face.

Your gaze wandered, from the cables snaking across the floor to the soft, ambient lights lining the room. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but you could feel the nerves crawling up your spine, your thumb unconsciously tracing the edge of your phone.

Jihoon hadn’t turned around, but you knew he sensed it. Maybe it was the way you shifted on the couch, or how your voice had gone quieter since you both stepped inside.

He paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Do you want some water?” he asked, not even turning, voice calm but carrying a gentleness that tugged at you.

You almost laughed. “Am I that obvious?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “A little.”

Silence settled again, but it was softer this time. He adjusted the volume of a track, listened, then leaned back in his chair.

“Y/n,” he said suddenly, and you straightened slightly. “Just sit there. You don’t have to do anything else.”

“I know,” you whispered, but the words felt thin against the weight in your chest.

He leaned his head back, finally meeting your eyes. “I brought you here because I want you to feel it again. Not because I expect you to perform.”

You swallowed, nodding, but you didn’t trust your voice.

“Besides,” he added with a gentle laugh, “I need you here. You have better taste in lyrics than me, remember?”

The tension in your shoulders eased, just a little. “You used to hate it when I nitpicked your lines.”

“Maybe I did. Or maybe I just hated that you were right most of the time.”

You smiled, leaning back into the couch, your fingers finally relaxing.

Jihoon turned back to his screen, but not before you caught the faintest look of relief in his expression. He wasn’t just working—he was making space for you, creating an atmosphere that felt safe, unhurried.

“Wanna try it?” Jihoon asked, casually, but his gaze was attentive.

Your heart skipped. “Sing it?”

He nodded, not pushing but not letting you hide either. “Just try. No pressure.”

You leaned back, taking a deep breath. “Okay… just… play the track.”

Jihoon adjusted a few settings, and soon the familiar sound of the demo filled the room. The gentle guitar strums, the soft beat—familiar yet new, warm and inviting.

You inhaled sharply, your fingers curling around the edge of the couch. And then, with a voice that felt shaky at first but gradually steadied, you began.

“Come stop your crying, it will be alright…

Just take my hand, hold it tight…”

Your voice wavered, but you pushed on. Jihoon’s eyes remained on the screen, but you could see the subtle way his head nodded, following your rhythm.

“I will protect you from all around you…

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

Jihoon made a few adjustments, lowering the instrumentals slightly, letting your voice shine just a bit more.

“For one so small, you seem so strong…

My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm…”

The nerves twisted inside you, but the words carried you. They weren’t just lyrics—they felt like a promise, a warmth you had missed, a memory that still lingered.

Jihoon’s hand reached out, his index finger tapping a small rhythm on the desk, a silent gesture of encouragement.

“This bond between us can’t be broken…

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

As you reached the final line, your voice softened, but it didn’t shake. It flowed.

“You’ll be in my heart…

Yes, you’ll be in my heart…

From this day on, now and forevermore…”

Silence followed, the track fading into nothingness. You barely realized you were gripping the edge of the couch until you felt the tension in your fingers.

Jihoon turned, a soft, almost amazed smile spreading across his face. “You’re still incredible.”

You looked away, feeling your cheeks warm. “It’s… it’s just a draft.”

“A beautiful one,” he corrected. “And your voice… it’s still there, Y/n. Stronger than you think.”

You bit your lip, a small laugh escaping. “I was terrified.”

“And yet, you sang like that.” He leaned back in his chair, his smile growing. “You wanna try another take? Just to warm up more?”

You met his eyes, a quiet spark of excitement finally breaking through your nerves. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

Jihoon leaned back in his chair, the soft glow of the studio lights casting a warm hue over his face. He was quiet for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest, eyes still on you. You expected another round of feedback, another subtle correction. But instead, he smiled—a slow, thoughtful smile.

“I think we should release it.”

You blinked. “Release? Like… as in, actually put it out there?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, leaning forward, his hands resting on his knees. “We could release it as an indie song. No heavy promotion, just… something real. Something raw.”

“Jihoon, I haven’t sung in years,” you whispered, your fingers instinctively curling into your sleeves. “I mean… this was just—”

“Beautiful,” he interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. “This was beautiful. Your voice, the lyrics… it’s all there.”

Your lips parted, a hundred protests dancing on the tip of your tongue. The fear, the anxiety, the echo of all those years wasted, the bitterness of dreams abandoned—they all screamed at you. But beneath them was something else, something softer and far more dangerous.

Hope.

“What if…” you hesitated, your gaze falling to the polished floor, “what if no one listens?”

“Then it’s just a song we made,” Jihoon said easily, his voice calming. “But if someone does… if it reaches even one person, then it’s worth it.”

Your gaze met his, and you saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes. No judgment, no pity—just that quiet, unwavering faith Jihoon always seemed to carry.

“But… it’s just a draft. It’s not perfect.”

“Then we’ll perfect it. We’ll record a proper take, polish the instrumentals, mix it right.” His voice grew animated, that spark of creative energy you knew so well lighting up his expression. “It can just be under a simple artist name—no big reveal, no pressure.”

You bit your lip, a nervous laugh escaping. “I don’t even know what name I’d use.”

“Then we can come up with one.” Jihoon’s grin widened, his excitement infectious. “Or we can just go with something simple. Y/n. Nothing to hide.”

Something in your chest tightened at that—your name, out there again, but this time without the weight of forced expectations or shattered dreams. Just you.

“You’re serious,” you whispered, a hint of awe slipping into your tone.

“I am.” He leaned forward again, his voice softer now. “You deserve to be heard, Y/n. Even if it’s just this one song. Even if it’s just this one moment.”

Your throat tightened, and you looked away, blinking quickly. You didn’t want to cry—not now, not in front of him. But you couldn’t stop the smile that spread slowly across your face.

“Then… let’s do it,” you whispered, barely trusting your own voice.

Jihoon’s smile softened, relief and pride mingling in his expression. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You let out a shaky laugh. “Let’s do it.”

*

The song was out—and it was a hit. More than just a quiet indie release, it spread like wildfire, carried by word of mouth and algorithmic whispers. People were captivated by the raw emotion in your voice, the honest lyrics, and the gentle but powerful production. It didn’t take long for listeners to notice the signature touch in the arrangement. Soon, word got out: Woozi of Seventeen had produced it.

Suddenly, you were no longer just a voice behind an anonymous track. Labels started reaching out, messages flooding your inbox with offers and promises. It was overwhelming, surreal.

Jihoon was there, calm and steady as always, sifting through the chaos with you. He recommended a label—one he trusted, one that would nurture your talent without forcing you into a mold. And you listened, handing in your resignation at the convenience store without a second thought.

Your world changed. You went from late-night shifts stocking soda cans to late-night sessions in recording studios. The label signed you, and they were careful, letting you be yourself, preserving the authenticity that made your first song a success.

And now, here you were, standing under the stage lights of a bustling university festival. A gentle breeze rustled your hair, the warm glow of the sunset casting an amber hue over the crowd. You sat with a guitar in your lap, the mic waiting. Nervous? Absolutely. But the moment your fingers found the strings, a familiar calm washed over you.

You played Jihoon’s song—no, your song. Your voice carried over the crowd, clear and heartfelt. People swayed, some holding up their phones, and you lost yourself in the music.

In the audience, Jihoon stood beside Hansol, his cap pulled low but not low enough to hide the proud smile tugging at his lips. His gaze never left you, watching every strum, every note you sang.

Hansol leaned over, his hands in his pockets, his voice a mix of honesty and admiration. “I thought you were going to give this song to Dokyeom hyung.”

“I was about to, for his solo.” Jihoon’s eyes softened, a quiet sense of satisfaction settling in. “But this song found its owner first.”

Hansol chuckled, his gaze shifting back to you. “I guess it did.”

Jihoon didn’t reply, but his heart swelled with pride, watching you command the stage with a quiet, soulful power he always knew you had. And he couldn’t help but feel like this was just the beginning—your beginning.

*

“I don’t know if you’re the type who likes staring at the stars.” Your voice teased Jihoon, a soft laugh lacing your words as both of you lay side by side on the rooftop of his place, the summer night sky stretching endlessly above. A gentle breeze rustled, carrying the scent of warm grass and distant city lights.

Jihoon had picked you up from a performance at a local music festival, a quiet but thoughtful way of celebrating the first anniversary of your debut. The night air felt cooler up here, the world below seeming a distant hum.

“I always enjoy nature,” Jihoon muttered, a hint of mock annoyance in his voice. “Wonwoo’s not the only one who’s romantic in our group.” But his expression betrayed him, a playful grin spreading as he turned to see you laughing.

“You sure? Because he sets the bar pretty high.”

Jihoon’s grin softened, his gaze wandering back to the stars. For a moment, a comfortable silence wrapped around you, the kind that didn’t demand to be filled.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice a touch quieter.

“About what?”

“Everything.”

“Surreal.” You breathed out, the word slipping past your lips like a confession. Your fingers traced idle patterns on the cool rooftop surface, searching for words that didn’t feel cliché. “I don’t know, honestly. Everything was hard—very hard. I was just... surviving. Then suddenly, I woke up one day, and I was on stage, singing. Living my dream.”

Jihoon listened, his gaze steady, his silence an invitation for you to continue.

“But sometimes, it still feels like a dream I might wake up from. Like I’m just waiting for someone to tap my shoulder and tell me it’s over.”

“Then why did you stop?” Jihoon’s question was gentle, but it hit deeper than you expected.

You hesitated, watching a faint cloud drift across the stars. “Because it felt like the world I knew crumbled overnight. Everything I thought I’d always have just… disappeared. I thought my dream went with it.”

Silence settled between you two, the gentle rustle of the summer breeze the only sound. Jihoon’s gaze remained on the stars, but his focus was entirely on you.

“What happened back then?” he finally asked, his voice cautious, almost hesitant.

You didn’t answer immediately, your fingers nervously tracing the rough texture of the rooftop. “It was… well, you know, my parents died in an accident. The business went to my uncle, and they kept me there. I was… stuck. And the company didn’t reach out either.”

Jihoon turned his head slightly, concern darkening his eyes. “I… I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah.” You tried to keep your voice steady, but a hint of bitterness slipped through. “I don’t know what the company told everyone, but once my uncle stopped funding them—the monthly support my father used to send—suddenly, I didn’t exist to them anymore. I wasn’t even a memory.”

Jihoon’s brows furrowed, his expression a mix of anger and sadness. “That’s… that’s awful.”

“It was.” You laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Being forgotten hurts more than losing everything else.”

You took a deep breath, letting the summer air fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. “Thank you, Jihoon.”

His gaze shifted to you, confusion flickering in his eyes. “For what?”

“For everything.” Your voice was softer now, carrying a weight you hadn’t meant to show. “There was a time when it felt like everyone had forgotten me. My family, the company… even the dream I once had. But you… you didn’t.”

Jihoon’s lips parted, but no words came out immediately. His fingers fidgeted slightly, a nervous habit you had come to recognize.

“I didn’t do much,” he finally murmured. “I just… I just gave you a song.”

“That’s more than enough.” A gentle smile tugged at your lips. “It wasn’t just a song, Jihoon. It was a reminder that I could still be someone. That I could still do something I love. And you listened. When no one else did.”

He looked away, staring back at the stars as if they had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. “You’re giving me too much credit.”

“Maybe.” You leaned a bit closer, your shoulder brushing against his. “But I’d rather give it to you than let myself think I did this all alone.”

A quiet chuckle slipped from him, a hint of warmth returning to his voice. “Well, I guess I can accept that. Just don’t forget that I’m still your producer. I’m allowed to be bossy.”

You laughed, a genuine, lighthearted sound that seemed to lift the weight from your chest. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

*

Jihoon leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting between the scattered lyric sheets on the table and the two figures beside him. You were seated cross-legged on the couch, your phone in one hand as you scribbled words onto a notebook with the other. Seungcheol sat beside you, far too close for Jihoon’s liking, his shoulder pressing against yours as he leaned over, peering at your notes.

“Are you sure that line flows well?” Seungcheol asked, his voice a low murmur close to your ear, his hand resting casually on the back of the couch—dangerously close to your shoulder.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think it captures the feeling. But I’m open to suggestions.”

“Here,” Seungcheol’s fingers lightly grazed your wrist as he reached for your pen. “What if you say—”

Jihoon’s jaw tightened, and he reached over, pulling his keyboard closer with a faint, intentional clatter. “Let’s focus on the melody first. No point in perfecting lyrics we can’t fit to the music.”

You glanced up at him, your expression caught between amusement and gratitude, while Seungcheol just laughed, leaning back but making no move to create more distance.

“Of course, Producer-nim,” Seungcheol teased, though his tone was light. “I’ll leave the melody to the master.”

Jihoon’s fingers danced over the keys, the soft piano notes filling the room. But even as he worked, his eyes would occasionally dart back to you and Seungcheol. He saw the way Seungcheol would lean in, his hand sometimes brushing against yours, his quiet chuckles always a little too close. And you… you seemed oblivious, focused on your lyrics, nodding at his ideas, but never quite leaning back into his touch.

Still, it was enough to gnaw at Jihoon.

“I think this transition needs more impact,” he finally said, a little louder than necessary, his gaze meeting yours. “Y/n, try humming it with me?”

You perked up, nodding. “Sure.”

You moved slightly forward, leaving Seungcheol’s side as you walked over to Jihoon’s setup. He adjusted the mic stand for you, his hands lingering for a second, his voice softer now. “Just follow my lead.”

The melody played, and you hummed along, your voice blending seamlessly with his instrumental. As you sang, Jihoon’s tense shoulders seemed to ease, and the faint hint of a smile played at his lips.

Seungcheol watched, a knowing smirk crossing his face as he leaned back against the couch. “Wow, Producer-nim really knows how to bring out the best in his artists.”

Jihoon’s fingers paused on the keys, his gaze flicking to Seungcheol. “That’s the job.”

But beneath the calm expression, his focus never strayed from you.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving a quiet stillness in the studio. Jihoon leaned back in his chair, exhaling as his fingers tapped rhythmically against his armrest. He began to tidy up the lyric sheets scattered around, but his calm didn’t last long.

“You know, I should start charging for my acting,” Seungcheol's voice cut through the silence, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “I mean, watching you go all stiff with jealousy was worth every second.”

Jihoon’s eyes shot up, narrowing. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, please,” Seungcheol laughed, casually leaning against the back of the couch. “The way you practically glared holes through me every time I leaned close to Y/n? The piano smashing was a nice touch too.”

“I wasn’t glaring,” Jihoon grumbled, shuffling the lyric sheets with unnecessary force. “I was focused on the work.”

“Sure. Because ‘Let’s focus on the melody’ wasn’t you screaming ‘Back off’ in music producer language.”

Jihoon’s cheeks tinted the faintest shade of pink, and he spun his chair around, refusing to face Seungcheol. “You were the one being unnecessarily touchy. That’s a cheap move, hyung.”

“Cheap but effective,” Seungcheol sang, walking over to Jihoon’s desk. “I just wanted to see how far you’d go. Honestly, I thought you were going to throw that keyboard at me.”

“I considered it,” Jihoon muttered, his grip tightening around the edge of his desk. “Don’t push it.”

Seungcheol chuckled, leaning closer. “You should just tell her, you know. You’ve already done the hard part—writing with her, watching her grow, supporting her in the background. The only thing left is saying it.”

Jihoon’s shoulders tensed, and for a moment, his eyes softened. “She… has a lot going on. And I’m…”

“A coward?”

Seungcheol had known about Jihoon's little crush on you since predebut. It wasn't anything Jihoon ever said—it was everything he didn’t. The way his eyes would follow you just a moment longer than anyone else, how his usually stoic expression softened whenever you spoke, and how his rare laughter seemed to come easily whenever you made a joke. Jihoon never talked much, but when it was with you, his words seemed to flow a little easier.

But Seungcheol had kept quiet, just observing, thinking it was just a passing crush. After all, they were all young, chasing dreams, busy with practices, and dealing with the pressure of a debut that seemed just out of reach. Feelings were bound to get tangled.

It wasn’t until years later, when he heard Jihoon was producing a song for you—your first song, the one that became a hit—that Seungcheol realized it wasn’t just a crush. Jihoon didn’t just work on your song; he poured himself into it, perfecting every note, making sure the melody brought out the best in your voice. It wasn’t just a project to him.

So, one night, when the two of them were alone in the studio, Seungcheol leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching Jihoon fine-tune your track for the hundredth time. The younger one didn't even notice him at first, too lost in his world.

“You like Y/n, don’t you?” Seungcheol finally asked, his voice calm but direct.

Jihoon’s fingers stilled over the keyboard, a faint hesitation hanging in the air. He didn’t turn around. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on,” Seungcheol chuckled, pushing off the doorway and walking in. “Don’t pretend. I’ve seen how you look at her. I saw it back then, and I see it now.”

Silence. Jihoon’s shoulders seemed to tense slightly, and then he exhaled, leaning back in his chair. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” Seungcheol frowned, taking a seat on the couch. “You’re making her first song. You’re working harder on it than any other track you’ve touched lately. If that’s not a confession in itself, I don’t know what is.”

“She deserves something good. Something that works,” Jihoon mumbled, his fingers fidgeting with a pen.

“Yeah, because she’s talented. But for you? It’s more than that.”

Jihoon finally turned to Seungcheol, his expression unreadable. “What if it’s pointless? What if she doesn’t see me that way?”

Seungcheol leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You won’t know unless you try. And you know Y/n. She’s not the type to run away from something honest.”

Jihoon’s gaze dropped to the floor, the faintest trace of a smile ghosting his lips. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well, maybe not by glaring at me every time I joke with her,” Seungcheol teased, lightening the mood.

Jihoon rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth in his expression now. “Maybe I’ll throw the guitar at you next time.”

“Sure, sure. But just so you know, if you keep pretending you don’t care, someone else might show up and make her fall for them.”

That thought alone seemed to light a fire in Jihoon’s chest, and Seungcheol caught it—the brief flash of determination in his eyes.

*

After that night, Jihoon began to change in ways that were almost too subtle to notice—unless you were paying attention. Jihoon was still Jihoon, calm and focused, but now there was a quiet sort of energy around him whenever you were near.

He started texting you more often—just small things, like asking if you got home safely after a late recording session or sending you a link to a song he thought you’d like. He listened intently when you spoke, his gaze never wavering, and his usual brief responses grew a little longer, more thoughtful.

In the studio, he would suggest a break whenever he noticed you seemed tired, even going as far as bringing you your favorite drink without asking. Once, he even swapped his hoodie with yours when you shivered slightly from the cold air conditioning.

You noticed it too. The way he would look up when you walked in, how his usually distant expression softened, or how he would stay in the studio a little longer when you were there, even if his part of the work was done.

One evening, as you tried to perfect the chorus of a song, your voice cracking slightly from overuse, Jihoon stood up and gently took your wrist. “Let’s take a break. Pushing won’t make it better.”

“I’m fine. I can—”

“You’re not a machine, Y/n,” he interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. “Come on.”

He led you out of the studio, the warmth of his hand lingering on your skin. Outside, the cool breeze swept across your face, and you sighed, leaning against the wall.

“Thanks,” you murmured, looking at him.

Jihoon nodded, but his eyes lingered on you, as if there was something more he wanted to say. But instead, he just stayed there, standing beside you in the quiet hallway, his presence alone enough to calm your nerves.

Seungcheol noticed too—how Jihoon’s attention seemed to orbit around you. He watched with a grin whenever Jihoon would get subtly annoyed if someone else got too close, how his friend seemed to naturally gravitate toward you.

“Man, I never thought I’d see Woozi being soft like this,” Seungcheol teased one day when you left to get water.

“Shut up,” Jihoon muttered, pretending to focus on his laptop.

“You’re not even hiding it anymore.”

“I’m just making sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah, and I’m the president,” Seungcheol laughed. “Just admit it, you care about her.”

Jihoon’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze flickering to where you stood by the water dispenser. “I do.”

“You should tell her.”

“Easier said than done,” Jihoon mumbled, but the way his eyes followed you spoke louder than any confession he could make.

The quiet hum of the studio equipment filled the room, a gentle backdrop to the creative chaos surrounding you. Papers scattered on the table, some scribbled with half-finished lyrics, others with scratched-out chords. You sat on the couch, your guitar resting against your thigh, and Jihoon was beside you, his laptop open, the familiar glow illuminating his focused expression.

You strummed a gentle melody, your fingers moving almost automatically, but your mind was elsewhere—specifically, on the way Jihoon’s gaze kept flickering toward you. He wasn’t obvious, but you’d known him long enough to recognize when something was on his mind.

“Let’s try it again from the second verse,” he said, his voice steady as always. But the way he leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against yours, felt different.

You cleared your throat, trying to shake off the slight flutter in your chest. “Okay, but I still think the transition feels awkward. It’s too sudden.”

Jihoon hummed, leaning back, but even then, his arm remained against yours, his warmth grounding you. “Then let’s smooth it out. Maybe extend the line or add a softer bridge.” His fingers tapped on the keyboard, adjusting the track.

You glanced at him, trying to focus on the work, but the closeness was impossible to ignore. “You’re getting really good at reading my mind, you know that?”

Jihoon smiled, a gentle, almost shy smile that you rarely saw. “Maybe I’ve just been paying attention.”

Silence fell again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You played the melody, humming along, your voice blending with the soft notes. Jihoon’s gaze didn’t leave you, his eyes tracing the way you lost yourself in the music.

“Your voice… it always suits this kind of song,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You stopped, cheeks warming slightly. “You think so?”

“I know so.” His tone was soft, but there was a quiet certainty to it. “You bring the lyrics to life. That’s why I knew this song was meant for you.”

Something in your chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around you. “Jihoon, I—”

The door swung open, and Seungcheol peeked in. “Still at it? I knew you two would be here until dawn.”

You cleared your throat, suddenly aware of the closeness. Jihoon leaned back slightly, his expression returning to its calm, composed look. “Almost done. Just refining.”

“Of course.” Seungcheol grinned, stepping in. “But don't overwork her, Woozi. She still needs that voice tomorrow.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I know. I’m not a slave driver.”

But as you tried to refocus, you couldn’t shake the lingering warmth of his words—or the way his gaze had softened when he looked at you.

The door swung open again, and Soonyoung waltzed in, carrying two plastic bags that crinkled noisily. “Midnight snacks! I bring salvation in the form of tteokbokki and kimbap!”

“Finally,” Seungcheol cheered, abandoning his spot by the soundboard to raid the bags. Jihoon, ever the disciplined one, simply raised an eyebrow, though the faint smile on his lips betrayed his amusement.

“You two are gonna spoil her,” Jihoon muttered, but he didn’t stop you when you reached for a kimbap roll.

“Oh, please. She’s working too hard. A little late-night energy won’t hurt.” Soonyoung plopped down on the couch beside you, practically beaming. “So, what are we working on?”

Jihoon tapped on his laptop. “Just fine-tuning the second verse. Y/n thinks the transition’s too abrupt, and I agree. We’re trying to find a smoother flow.”

Soonyoung leaned forward, chewing on a piece of tteokbokki. “Why don’t you add a two-bar instrumental bridge? Something subtle, like a rising piano line to ease the mood?”

Jihoon’s eyes lit up. “That could actually work. Give me a second.” He started tinkering with the software, and the room filled with the delicate rise of soft keys, fitting perfectly between the verses.

“I’m a genius,” Soonyoung declared, looking smug. “I should get producer credits.”

“You wish.” Jihoon snorted, but he saved the updated version, clearly pleased.

As you sipped on a can of soda, feeling the comfort of the warm, slightly chaotic atmosphere, Soonyoung’s voice suddenly cut through, clear and casual—too casual.

“Didn’t you like him in the past?”

Silence. An absolute, crushing silence.

The room seemed to freeze. The soft hum of the equipment suddenly felt louder. You stared at Soonyoung, your breath caught, the half-chewed kimbap in your mouth suddenly dry.

Jihoon’s fingers, which had been moving so fluidly over the keyboard, halted mid-gesture. His gaze snapped to you, a mix of shock and confusion. Seungcheol looked up, a piece of tteokbokki half-raised to his lips, his jaw slack.

“I—What?” you managed to say, your voice smaller than you intended.

“You forgot?” Soonyoung looked genuinely surprised, blinking at the stunned faces around him. “I remember you told me about that on our way to the dorm. You thought Jihoon was cute—especially when he got all serious with his lyrics.”

“I—That was…” Your voice faltered, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I was young. We were all kids.”

“Soonyoung-ah,” Jihoon’s voice was a warning, but the redness creeping up his ears betrayed him. He still hadn’t looked away from you.

Soonyoung seemed to sense the tension he’d stirred up, but instead of backtracking, he leaned back with an amused smile. “Hey, I’m just stating facts. And now look at you two, making music together all over again. Feels like fate.”

You tried to focus on your food, each bite feeling heavier than before. Jihoon’s gaze flickered away, his attention returning to the screen, but his fingers hovered, unsure.

The warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore. Jihoon’s eyes met yours once more—fleeting, almost shy—but in that glance, there was a question, a hesitant spark. And your heart raced just a little faster.

*

The chaos erupted like a wildfire.

You had just stepped off the stage after another successful performance, the bright lights still lingering in your vision when your manager rushed toward you, her expression pale. “Y/n… you need to see this.”

She handed you her phone, and there it was—a news article that had already gone viral. The headline screamed: "Rising Star Y/n Accused by Family of Theft and Runaway: The Truth Behind Her Past."

Your heart dropped. Your uncle’s name was right there, and his words were cruel and twisted.

“She stole from our family, took a large sum of money, and disappeared to Seoul. We tried to help her, but she betrayed us,” the article quoted him. He painted a picture of you as an ungrateful, deceitful child who had thrown away family for fame.

Panic twisted your stomach. Your manager’s phone kept vibrating, notifications pouring in—fans commenting, people demanding an explanation, other news outlets picking up the story.

“How… How could he…?” your voice was barely a whisper, your hands cold

“Y/n, we need to make a statement,” your manager urged. “We have to clear this up.”

Clear it up? What even was there to clear up? It was a complete lie. You knew the truth, Jihoon knew, but would anyone believe you over the man parading as your family?

Your mind spun with memories—the suffocating isolation back then, your uncle holding back your inheritance, his family treating you like a burden. You had nothing when you left, nothing but the tiny bit of courage you had left to chase a life they tried to take from you.

The staff members whispered, your phone buzzed incessantly. Social media was already flooding with comments—some defending you, others calling you a fraud.

*

Jihoon’s phone buzzed endlessly. Notifications flooded in, messages from the members, the manager, and even his mother, asking if he knew about the chaos involving you. His jaw tightened, a sense of dread clawing at his chest. He had just seen you hours ago, your smile bright after another successful performance. How had everything fallen apart so quickly?

He dialed your number, pressing his phone to his ear, but the call went unanswered. Once, twice, three times. Panic gripped him tighter with each failed attempt. He paced his studio, his fingers tapping against his thigh, a nervous habit he couldn’t shake.

The headlines were ruthless, and the comments even worse. People who didn’t know anything about you were already labeling you a liar, a thief. Jihoon knew better. He knew how you had struggled, how you had clawed your way out of the darkness they had thrown you into.

Finally, he grabbed his keys and stormed out. He wasn’t going to just sit there. He needed to find you.

As he sped through the city, he tried calling you again. This time, he called Seungcheol.

“Hyung, where is she? Did you get to her?” he blurted the moment Seungcheol picked up.

“Jihoon?” Seungcheol's voice was muffled, the sound of a car engine in the background. “Yeah, I have her. We’re heading somewhere safe. Soonyoung’s coordinating with the legal team, but things are blowing up fast.”

“Is she… Is she okay?” Jihoon’s voice softened, betraying his fear.

“She’s in shock, I think. Trying to stay calm, but you know Y/n. She’s… trying to hold it together,” Seungcheol explained, his voice quieter. “But Jihoon, she’s hurt. Her own family did this to her.”

Jihoon’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles pale. “Where are you taking her?”

“To my place for now. It’s better if the press doesn’t know,” Seungcheol replied.

“Stay there. I’m coming.” Jihoon didn’t even wait for Seungcheol’s reply before ending the call, his foot pressing harder on the accelerator.

His mind raced, thinking of what to say to you, how to comfort you. But all he knew for sure was that he needed to be there. You weren’t going to face this alone. Not again.

*

When Jihoon stepped into Seungcheol’s apartment, the air was thick with tension. The lights were dim, and Soonyoung stood in the kitchen, whispering urgently into his phone. Seungcheol was by the window, his gaze shifting between the streets below and the silent figure curled on the couch.

And then he saw you.

You were sitting there, knees drawn to your chest, your face buried against them. Your shoulders trembled slightly, and even from across the room, Jihoon could see your fingers gripping the fabric of your pants so tightly your knuckles were pale.

“Y/n…” Jihoon’s voice was barely a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the room.

You didn’t look up immediately, but when you did, your eyes were glassy, lost. A faint, broken smile appeared on your lips, but it crumbled just as quickly. “Jihoon… I…”

Before you could finish, Jihoon crossed the room, kneeling beside the couch. He didn’t hesitate, reaching out to gently hold your hands, prying your fingers free from their tight grip. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

You shook your head, a choked laugh escaping you. “It’s not okay. They’re saying… they’re saying I stole from them. That I ran away with their money. That I… Jihoon, I didn't do that. I swear—”

“I know.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for doubt. “I know you didn’t. We all know.”

Your breathing was unsteady, each gasp catching in your throat. “But the whole world thinks… They’re calling me a thief, a liar. My own family did this… Why? Why would they—” Your voice broke, and tears slipped down your cheeks.

Jihoon’s heart twisted painfully. He had never seen you like this—so exposed, so lost. The woman who stood on stage, who wrote lyrics with such passion, who fought to rebuild her life, now reduced to this fragile state.

“They’re scared, or greedy, or just cruel. But none of that is your fault,” Jihoon whispered, his thumb brushing away your tears. “We’re going to fix this. I promise you.”

You stared at him, searching for something—reassurance, hope, anything to hold on to. “Jihoon… I don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours, letting you feel his warmth, his steady presence. “You don’t have to know. You just have to let us help you. Let me help you.”

A quiet sob broke from you, and you leaned into him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders. Jihoon’s arms enveloped you, holding you close, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispered, “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

Across the room, Seungcheol looked away, giving you both a moment. Soonyoung stepped out to the balcony, continuing his call but throwing a quick thumbs-up toward Jihoon. The world outside might be cruel, but here, you had them—people who knew you, who cared, who would fight for you.

*

Within hours, statements from both your label and Pledis were released, carefully crafted yet resolute in their tone. Your label firmly denied your uncle's accusations, clarifying that his claims were false and rooted in a personal dispute. They acknowledged the difficult situation you faced in the past, explaining that you were a young trainee who had to abandon her dreams due to unforeseen family circumstances.

Pledis, under the direct supervision of Seungcheol, Jihoon, and Soonyoung, released their own statement. They confirmed your history as a promising trainee who was forced to withdraw from debut due to family complications. They expressed regret that you had to leave under such circumstances but emphasized their support for you now.

The company stood by your truth, and it wasn't just words on paper. Seungcheol was the one who demanded the statement be released immediately, his voice firm and unwavering in the meeting room. Jihoon insisted on the wording, making sure every detail reflected the reality of your situation without exploiting your trauma. Soonyoung, surprisingly serious, went as far as personally reaching out to industry connections, making sure the narrative didn’t spiral out of control.

With their combined efforts, the public's perception shifted. Sympathy replaced doubt, and the comments under your social media flooded with support.

Alongside the official statements, photos of you with Seungcheol, Jihoon, and Soonyoung began to circulate on social media. Some were candid shots—Seungcheol playfully ruffling your hair, Jihoon walking beside you with a faint smile, and Soonyoung making exaggerated faces to make you laugh. Others were from studio sessions, showing you deep in conversation with Jihoon or Seungcheol leaning over to check your lyrics.

Fans started piecing together the connection. Jihoon, the genius producer behind almost all your songs, wasn’t just a collaborator—he was a steadfast presence in your life. Seungcheol and Soonyoung, who were known for their loyalty and protectiveness over their members, clearly extended that same care to you.

Online discussions swelled with sympathy. “If Seungcheol and Jihoon trust her, then I trust her too.” “You can see in their eyes they genuinely care about her.” “Jihoon produces all her songs—there’s no way she’s the person her uncle described.”

A week after the tide of public opinion began to shift in your favor, Jihoon arrived at your doorstep unannounced. The moment you opened the door, he stepped inside with quiet confidence, his eyes searching the small space until they found you standing there—alone, vulnerable, yet somehow still holding on.

He said nothing, letting the silence fill the room before slowly opening his arms wide. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a deep, unwavering embrace. Your body shook as the walls you’d built crumbled, and the sobs you had kept buried for so long spilled out uncontrollably. You melted into his chest, feeling like fragile glass finally cradled safely after a storm.

Jihoon’s arms tightened gently around you, his steady heartbeat resonating against your ear like a calming rhythm. In that quiet moment, his presence spoke louder than words ever could—he was here, unwavering and steadfast, ready to be the anchor you needed. No matter what had happened, no matter how far you had fallen, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Jihoon’s hands slowly stroked your hair, his touch gentle and soothing as if trying to erase every trace of pain you’d carried alone for so long. He whispered soft reassurances, low and steady, barely more than a breath.

“You’re not alone anymore,” he murmured. “I’m here. We’ll get through this—together.”

His voice held no pressure, only quiet strength that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. As your sobs softened, you clung to him tighter, letting yourself finally rest, finally breathe. For the first time in a long while, you felt seen—not as someone broken or forgotten, but as someone worthy of care and love.

Jihoon held you like that until the world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the steady beat of two hearts healing side by side.

After a while, Jihoon gently pulled back just enough to look at you. The two of you settled on the worn-out couch, close but not crowded, the quiet hum of the city outside your window filling the space between you.

He studied your face with soft concern. “How are you feeling? Really.”

You hesitated, then let out a shaky breath. “Honestly? Still fragile. But... better, now that you’re here.”

Jihoon nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s okay to take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words wrapped around you like a shield, giving you the courage to admit the weight you’d been carrying, the fear that had made you shut down for so long. In that moment, sitting side by side, you realized maybe—just maybe—you could start to heal.

You looked down at your hands, twisting the edge of your sleeve nervously. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice barely steady. “For everything that happened—how I disappeared, how I pushed people away... especially you.”

Jihoon’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, none of that was your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“But I still feel like I should’ve done better. Stayed strong—for myself, for everyone who believed in me.”

He shook his head gently, eyes soft but firm. “You’ve been through so much. It’s okay to be human, to stumble. What matters is you’re here now, and we’re going to face this together.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, grateful for his steady presence. “Thank you... for not giving up on me.”

Jihoon smiled, a quiet promise in his gaze. “Never.”

Jihoon’s grip on your hand tightened just a little, his eyes searching yours with a seriousness that made your heart skip. He took a slow breath before speaking, his voice softer than before.

“Y/n, I’ve been holding this in for a while… but I can’t anymore. I like you. More than just a friend, more than just someone I want to help. I’ve liked you since before you even knew I existed.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden confession, your heart racing.

“I didn’t say anything because I wanted to be there for you, not add any pressure. But seeing you now, vulnerable and still so strong—it’s made me realize I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

He gave you a small, hopeful smile. “I want to be by your side. Not just as your producer or friend... but something more, if you’ll let me.”

Your breath hitched, and a heavy wave of doubt washed over you. You looked down, voice barely a whisper.

“I... I don’t know if I deserve this—deserve you. After everything I’ve been through, all the mistakes, all the pain... How could someone like you want someone like me?”

Your heart ached with a mix of gratitude and fear, the weight of your past pressing hard against the hope Jihoon’s words had sparked.

Jihoon reached out, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met his. His gaze was steady, full of warmth and certainty.

“Y/n, you don’t have to be perfect for me to want you. I see you—everything you are, everything you’ve been through—and it only makes me want to be by your side more.”

He smiled softly, his voice low and sincere.

“You deserve kindness, love, and a fresh start. And I want to be part of that with you.”

You searched his eyes, vulnerability and doubt still lingering in yours. “Jihoon… are you sure you won’t regret this? Being with someone like me—after everything?” Your voice cracked, heavy with the weight of all the pain and uncertainty you carried.

He held your gaze steadily, no hesitation in his eyes. Slowly, he shook his head, a gentle but unwavering smile playing at his lips. “Never. I’ve waited so long to tell you this. You don’t have to be anyone else for me—I like you exactly as you are.”

Then, without breaking eye contact, he reached out and cupped your cheek tenderly. The world around you seemed to quiet as he leaned in, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours softly at first—warm, comforting—like a silent promise that he was here to stay, no matter what.

You melted into the kiss, feeling a fragile hope bloom inside you for the first time in so long. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And in that moment, that was enough.

His lips brushed against yours with a softness that took your breath away, gentle like the first drop of rain after a long drought. The kiss deepened slowly, tender but full of meaning, as if every unspoken word between you was being conveyed through this quiet connection.

Jihoon’s hand moved from your cheek to cradle the back of your neck, steadying you, grounding you, letting you know he was there—completely present. You felt the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, the faintest tremor of emotion in his touch.

It wasn’t hurried or desperate; it was patient and sincere, like a promise that no matter how broken or uncertain your past had been, he wanted to be part of your future. Your heart hammered wildly as the kiss lingered, a delicate thread weaving your two souls closer in that perfect, fragile moment.

After pulling back just slightly, Jihoon rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours with a quiet intensity. His voice was soft but certain, carrying all the emotions he had kept hidden for so long.

“I love you,” he said simply, as if those three words held the weight of everything between you. “I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you, even when I didn’t say it. And I want to keep loving you—if you’ll let me.”

He gave you a small, hopeful smile, his hand still gently holding your face.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The end.

metallicaislife masterlist

I mainly write for Metallica, but there will be dustings of Guns 'N Roses(mainly Slash and Duff as that is who I know best in the band) scenarios too.

✨ = fluff

🌹= smut

😿 = sad/angst

METALLICA

Christmas Decorating - Metallica ✨

Cliff Burton

Thin Lizzy and Mary Jane ✨

First Time 🌹

Afternoon Delight 🌹

My Girl ✨

Save a Horse, Ride a Bassist 🌹

Early Morning Surprise 🌹

Tag Team 🌹

Day Trip ✨

Tight Fit 🌹

Birthday Boy ✨🌹

What Flusters Cliff ✨

Making You Feel Good 🌹

What's Your Fantasy? 🌹

Dreams 🌹

Childhood Friends ✨

Cliff Burton Headcanons ✨

Talk is Just Talk, Right? 🌹

James Hetfield

Daydream 😿🌹

Daydream Pt 2 😿✨

Daydream Pt 3 ✨

Been Hiding in Plain Sight ✨

Impatient 🌹

Let Me Take Care of You 🌹✨

What's Your Fantasy? 🌹

Brothers Best Friend ✨

Brothers Best Friend pt 2 ✨

My Nemesis, James Hetfield ✨

My Nemesis, James Hetfield pt 2 ✨

My Nemesis, James Hetfield pt 2 Bloopers ✨

Hey Jealousy 😿✨

Kirk Hammett

The Exorcist ✨

Long Day ✨

Phone Call Confession ✨

Tag Team 🌹

A Steamy Halloween 🌹

Bad Mood 😿✨

Pushed to Confess 🌹

After the Show 🌹

The Photographer and the Guitarist ✨🌹

The Photographer and the Guitarist pt 2 ✨🌹

Introverted 😿✨

Slow Mornings ✨

The Interview 🌹

Arguments 🌹

Birthday Wishes ✨🌹

I Want to Learn 🌹

I Want to Learn pt 2 🌹

Overworked 😿✨

Meet and Greet 🌹

Kirk w/ a Clingy gf Headcanon ✨

Embarrassment Leads to… 🌹

Kirk Hammett Headcanons ✨

A Steamy Halloween pt 2 🌹

Lars Ulrich

The Spank Bank Incident ✨

Being Lars Girl Best Friend Headcanon ✨

Dating Lars Headcanons ✨

Jason Newsted

nothing yet

Rob Trujillo

Dating Current!Rob Trujillo Headcanons ✨

News ✨

Lazy Day In ✨

New Sensations 🌹

Dave Mustaine

Talk is Just Talk, Right? 🌹

GUNS 'N ROSES

Christmas Decorating - Guns N Roses ✨

Duff McKagan

Coconut Tequila ✨

Award Show ✨

Slash

The Unintentional Heartbreaker ✨(mentions spicy but not explicit)

Unwell ✨

Could you please write a masterlist??🧸

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

» read the rules before requesting

↳ 𝙈𝙀𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙄𝘾𝘼;

↳ 𝘊𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘍 𝘉𝘜𝘙𝘛𝘖𝘕;

» wish you were here [angst]

» a dream soon to become real [fluff]

» i saw her standing there [fluff]

↳ 𝘑𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘕𝘌𝘞𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘋;

» nothing here yet

↳ 𝘼𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙀 𝙄𝙉 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙎;

↳ 𝘓𝘈𝘠𝘕𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘓𝘌𝘠;

» love, hate, love [angst, fluff]

» real thing [fluff]

↳ 𝘑𝘌𝘙𝘙𝘠 𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘛𝘙𝘌𝘓𝘓;

» through thick and thin [angst, fluff]

↳ 𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝙃𝙊𝙏 𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙇𝙄 𝙋𝙀𝙋𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎;

↳ 𝘑𝘖𝘏𝘕 𝘍𝘙𝘜𝘚𝘊𝘐𝘈𝘕𝘛𝘌;

» hearts and thoughts they fade away, part #1 [angst]

» hearts and thoughts they fade away, part #2 [angst, fluff]

» birthday surprise [fluff, smut]

» unfinished things [fluff]

» baby fever [fluff, smut]

↳ 𝙂𝙐𝙉𝙎 𝙉' 𝙍𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙎;

↳ 𝘚𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘏;

» it’s never over [angst, fluff]

» lady strange [fluff]

» i know it’s over [angst]

» you could be mine [angst]

↳ 𝙉𝙄𝙍𝙑𝘼𝙉𝘼;

↳ 𝘋𝘈𝘝𝘌 𝘎𝘙𝘖𝘏𝘓;

» you two are my home [fluff]

↳ 𝙋𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙇 𝙅𝘼𝙈;

↳ 𝘌𝘋𝘋𝘐𝘌 𝘝𝘌𝘋𝘋𝘌𝘙;

» green seashell, part #1 [fluff, angst]

» green seashell, part #2 [angst, fluff]

↳ 𝙎𝙊𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙂𝘼𝙍𝘿𝙀𝙉;

↳ 𝘊𝘏𝘙𝘐𝘚 𝘊𝘖𝘙𝘕𝘌𝘓𝘓;

» movie night [fluff, smut]

↳ 𝙈𝙀𝙂𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙏𝙃;

↳ 𝘔𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘠 𝘍𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘋𝘔𝘈𝘕;

» nothing here yet

↳ 𝘕𝘐𝘊𝘒 𝘔𝘌𝘕𝘡𝘈;

» nothing here yet

↳ 𝘒𝘐𝘒𝘖 𝘓𝘖𝘜𝘙𝘌𝘐𝘙𝘖;

» nothing here yet

— 𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 —

↳ 𝙁𝘼𝙎𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙁𝙐𝙍𝙄𝙊𝙐𝙎

↳ 𝘏𝘈𝘕 𝘓𝘜𝘌

» one shot #1

» one shot #2 [cheating, smut]

☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•GUNS N ROSES•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆

------------------------------------------------

☆•Axl Rose•☆

♡Welcome Audience

♡Spanking

♡Jacuzzi Time

♡Nervous Wreck

♡ Christmas Cards

♤Caught Up In His Life

♡Pick Up The Pace

♡ Jealousy is Pretty on You

♡ Car Times Party Times

☆•Duff McKagan•☆

♡Subby Duff

♤Forgotten Anniversary

♡Much Needed Break

♡Duff x M!reader

♤♡Lack of Communication (pt.1 + pt.2)

♡More Subby Duff

◇Gentle Loving

◇ A Bloody Mess

♡Pull Over

♡Put Those Panties On

☆•Izzy Stradlin•☆

♡Subby Izzy

♡Breeding Kink

♡Back blown out

♡Spanking

♡♤Baby Trap You For A Tour

♡Somnophilia

♡♤ Go On Then

♡Poor Puppy

☆•Slash•☆

♡Sixty Bucks

♡Not So Hidden Fantasy

♤◇Mine

♡Even the Score

♡Jealousy

◇Christmas Pajama's

♤♡The Not so Princely Prince Charming

♡Special Interview

◇Sick Day

♡Drunken Dog

♡Pretty Titty

♡Mutt

◇Snakes in the Sheets

♡Say it Back

♡Insecurity

◇Modern AU

♡Rehab Romance

♡Thigh Love

♡Edging

♡Cockwarming

♡Brat Taming

♡Charity Work

♡Thigh riding

♡Tour Bus Sex

♡Subby Slash

◇ADHD reader

♡Size Kink

◇Chronic Tummy Aches

♡Pegging

◇♡Gender Swap Stuff (pt.1 + pt.2)

♡Arranged Rebel

♡Corruption Kink

♡Unique Band Practice

♡Bottom Slash

♡Age Gap Relationship (pt.1 + pt.2 + pt.3)

♡Take Me With You

♡Spanking Slash

♡ The Best Present

♡ Party Favours

♡ Happy New Year

♡ No Food in the Kitchen

♡ I can't keep coming up with titles for sub Slash

♡Just Fuck Off

♡His New Toy

♡No More Fucking Buts!

♡A Puddle of Pleasure and Pain

♤◇Angry in Love

♡ Lost Deodorant

♤♡Succubus Slash

♡Lost Somewhere In Time

♡ Tit Sucking Comfort

♤♡You Won’t Fuck Me Right

♡ Stop at the Touch

♡ Destressing

♡ Pegging 2x

♤♡ Last Straw

☆•Steven Adler•☆

◇Soft Dom Headcanons

♡Brat Taming

♡Breastfeeding Kink

☆•Multiple members•☆

♡Bingo

♡Izzy x reader x Duff (pt.1 + pt.2)

◇Aftercare

------------------------------------------------

♡ smut

◇ fluff

♤ angst

IT'S SO EASY, guns n' roses.

pinned rules masterlist

pairing; guns n' roses x fem!reader

summary; your band, lethality, is the hottest thing that’s hit the sunset strip since mötley crüe and the notorious guns n' roses. after a sensational night playing the whisky a go-go, you to meet a very interesting group of men that take a peculiar liking to you.

warnings; cussing, no use of y/n, alcohol & cigarettes mentioned, veryy dialogue heavy, nothing really happens because i didn’t know if anon wanted it to be romantic/romantic encounter with a band member(s), steven is having fun somewhere else.

word count; 1.6k

a/n; i honestly loved writing this. i had a hard time starting it, but when i got it going i couldn’t stop. i was even considering making this a full fledged fanfic, if anyone would be interested.

requests open, not proofread, based on this ask.

The Whisky was packed, the air thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of sweat. The crowd of people blended into one the further you looked out—was jumping around, their energy feeding into yours as you gripped the mic stand, swinging it around erratically. Your heart pounded with adrenaline as the house lights dim for dramatic effect, and with a deep, intentional breath, you launched into the final chorus of your band, Lethality's, set. Your voice was raw, passionate, and uniquely fresh. The audience erupted, fists pounding in the air, whistling and clapping being heard.

This is what made every sleepless hour, every shitty bar gig worth it. The feeling of the audience, the bass vibrating your core, the drums pounding hard and intentional, the guitar wailing along to your voice. You were in your element. This was everything.

With one last powerful belt, you let the song ring out, clutching the microphone as the sound of your heavy breath mixed with the cheers. A slow, sexy smirk tugged at your lips. They loved you.

You turned, locking eyes with your guitarist, tossing your damp, messy hairy over your shoulder and stepping back from the microphone stand. The applause and whistles followed you offstage, still roaring in your ears as you grabbed a towel and wiped your damp face.

You were shocked that Los Angeles had loved Lethality that much, given that they didn't take to women-led bands very kindly. They often watered them down to being a "woman in Rock" and not a "rockstar." You loathed it, and you be damned if it happened to you. You deserved to be on the same playing field as the rest of these young, dumb, and full of cum men. Not that you honestly wanted to be compared to that, though.

"You really know how to work a crowd," a voice called out.

Your eyes shot up to see an older, chubbier man leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking at you in thought. He nodded towards the dressing rooms. "You've got some serious fans wanting to meet you."

You raise an eyebrow in uncertainty, "Fans?"

The man sends you a shit-eating grin and sniggered, "Yeah. Ever heard of Guns N' Roses?"

For a brief second, your heart skipped a beat as you felt your hands get clammy—but you played it cool, tossing the wet towel onto a nearby beer crate. You exhaled through your nose and ran a hand through your hair. You knew Guns regularly went to the Whisky and other clubs you and your band frequented, and you were bound to run into them, but you still felt extremely nervous. You absolutely adored their newest album, Appetite for Destruction.

"Well," you eventually muttered, rolling your shoulders, "guess I better not keep them waiting, huh?"

With that, you strode down the hall, your heart beating so loudly you could feel it having a concert in your head. The hallway was dimly lit the further you walked down, the sounds of the Whisky still thrumming in the distance. Your heeled boots echoed against the floor as you approached the dressing rooms. Guns N' fucking Roses wanted to see you. You weren't one to get starstruck, you had met some of the best musicians to come out of the strip, but you weren't oblivious either. Part of you was curious, another part cautious. You knew how these men were. Hungry for sex, drugs, and dabbled in Rock 'n' Roll when the job called for it. You also weren't one to get caught up in the rock mystique. Yet, if they had something to say, you were damn sure going to hear it.

You reached the dressing room door and took a steadying breath. You took a second to smooth your hair and shake out the last of your post-show adrenaline. Then, you pushed it open.

The room was buzzing with soft conversation. The scent of fresh leather, whiskey, and cigarette smoke hung in the air. The ginger lead singer, Axl Rose, was the first of the four to look up, reclining in his chair, a drink idly dangling from his fingers. His sharp hazel eyes flickered with something unreadable as he took your figure in. Slash was perched on the couch, lazily tapping ash from his cigarette, while Duff and Izzy leaned back in conversation, their laughter cutting off the second you entered. Instantly, you noticed the lack of their drummer, Steven Adler. Huh.

Four pairs of beady eyes locked onto you.

"Well, well," Duff spoke up, giving a slow, acknowleding nod. "The woman of the hour."

You smirked, stepping inside with your arms crossed. "Didn't realize I was on your schedule."

Axl's lips curled into something between amusement and intrigue. "You weren't. But we couldn't ignore what we just saw out there," he tilted his head, studying you. "You don't just perform—you own that stage."

The way Axl said it wasn't flattery. On the contrary, it was a statement. A challenge, maybe. You couldn’t tell. Not yet, anyway.

You met his gaze without flinching, a newfound confidence overtaking you. "That's the job, isn't it?"

To your right, Slash chuckled, flicking his cigarette once more. "Yeah, but most people don't do it like that." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his leathered knees. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

You shrugged, "Same story as everyone else. Small-town band, a lot of shitty gigs, and too much cheap beer."

Axl smirked at that you noticed. He must've liked that reply, you thought.

"Not everyone makes it out of that."

Something about the way he said it made the air feel heavier, just for a beat. You could feel them sizing you up, trying to figure out if you were just another wannabe act, or something more. Maybe they were checking you out, who fucking knows?

You glanced around, then raised an amused brow. "So, you dragged me in here just to stroke my ego, or is there something else?"

Axl took a swig of his liquor, sliding his arm onto the armrest. "Maybe both."

Axl's words hung in the air, stretching the moment just long enough for you to feel the weight of their attention. You didn't mind it—if anything, you were used to being watched, analyzed, judged. But this? This was different.

Slash took a slow, tentative drag off of his cigarette, exhaling a thin breath of smoke before speaking again. "How long have you been playing as a band?"

You walked over to the other side of the couch he sat on, your eyes not leaving his hidden ones. "Long enough to know what I'm doing."

That earned a chuckle from Duff. "Yeah, we picked up on that, Susie-Q."

Izzy, who had been quiet until now, studied you with that easy, unreadable gaze. "Your sound's different. It's not just your voice—it's the way you hold a crowd. Who are your influences?"

You shrugged, "A little of everyone."

Axl chuckled and swirled the whiskey in his glass. "That's the safe answer," he retorted, clicking his tongue in amusement.

"Safe," you echoed with a knowing, smug smile, "or just true?"

That got a reaction—albeit a small one—a flicker of something behind Axl's eyes. The kind of interest that wasn't politeness. He wasn't just shooting the shit with you. None of them were. They had intentions—intentions you were unsure of.

Slash tilted his head softly, "You got a label yet?"

"Not one worth signing to," you replied smoothly as you shook your head.

Izzy and Duff exchanged what felt like their tenth glance of the night. Axl's smirk deepened as you quietly let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You were very nervous, after all.

"Good," Axl clicked his tongue, "means you're not an idiot."

You huffed a quiet laugh, "I try."

This whole conversation had your mind reeling: panic mode on. This was going nowhere, and you didn't really come here to get drilled about your music. They didn't even ask to see the rest of Lethality, just you. You weren't sure what to expect when walking backstage, but being rallied up by Guns wasn't it. Their gaze was still on you, making you feel small. You look at Axl from across the room—the gears in his head were moving. You soon realized that never meant anything good.

Axl turned his head to look at you dead on. "So, what's next for you?"

You met his gaze without hesitation, your eyebrows furrowing. "Why? You planning to keep tabs on me?"

Slash grinned, putting out his cigarette in the steel ashtray on the coffee table. "Wouldn't be the worst idea. Not every night we someone actually own the stage instead of just.. standing on it."

Duff gestured towards you with his beer bottle. "Crowd was losing their fucking minds. You got 'em wrapped around your pretty little finger."

You shrugged. “Like I said, that’s the job.”

“And like Slash said, most people don’t get that. They think it’s just about playing the songs.” Izzy eyed you, like he was still trying to figure you out. He motioned towards you as he pulled out a Marlboro from his pack. “You’ve got something else.”

Axl let out a low chuckle and cleared his throat while shaking his head slightly. Then, he raised his glass. “Right. Here’s to whatever the fuck happens next.”

Your eyes flicked to the band’s whiskey bottle on the table. Without a word, you picked it up, twisted off the cap, and took a deep gulp before setting it back down on the coffee table with a quiet, gentle clink.

“You’ll be seeing more of Lethality,” you said simply.

Slash huffed a quiet laugh. “Good. Scene’s getting boring.”

Duff nodded in agreement. “Listen—If you keep playing like that, you won’t be stuck in clubs forever.”

Izzy didn’t say anything, just gave a small, knowing smirk.

Axl’s gaze lingered for a second longer before he set his now empty glass down. “Guess we’ll have to just wait and fucking see.”

The conversation shifted, drinks flowed, and the night stretched on. Whatever this was—whatever had started here—you had a small feeling burning deep inside that this was just the beginning.

© lagunned (2025—) all rights reserved.

Hai^^ I love your stories so much and I was wondering if you could make one about 80s slash x reader? And how the reader’s parents and slash’s mom were friends and forced them to meet each other?

When the reader sees slash - she kinda into him and the more she stares at him the more attractive gets and slash is a bit older than her and finds her funny and weird as he notices that she’s been staring at him the whole time during dinner.

It isn’t until they’re left alone that they start talking to each other and slash makes playful gestures and teases towards her? With smut and fluff of course :P

I hope that’s not a lot^^ anyways whenever you get the time^^

A/n: I wrote this in class and barely finished so the end is kind of shit

Warnings: smut, arranged marriage trope(ish), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

I think I’ve used this before but no I didn’t bc I said so

Ever since you were young, around twelve, there was always this pressure to be with someone, relatives coming by and asking where your boyfriend was. It was annoying and you couldn’t get away from it.

Your parents only got worse as you got older, inviting friends over with suitors. Annoying old men shoving money and power in your face, none of it was ever for you they just wanted to show you what they had. They didn’t care about you.

This dinner was just like any other, you had to get all dressed up to meet some guy your parents knew. He’d be old, creepy and wasting away, just wanting someone to bed whenever he wanted, someone to beat, who he could show around town as he pleased.

You were in your room, getting ready as per usual. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, pristine and proper, white floral dress and golden makeup. Just once you wanted to do something bigger, something harsher.

The doorbell rang and you were called down to meet the guests. You say yourself at the table, ready to meet the next suitor to leave.

A woman walked through, she was gorgeous and had a beautiful smile, behind her came a man with bigger hair than his mother. He shared those big, dark eyes, full lips, but he didn’t smile. He wasn’t dressed up all fancy, he wore jeans and a leather jacket over a Ramones shirt that was torn up and well loved, to say the least.

You weren’t allowed to listen to the Ramones, devils music you were told. This man was the devil incarnate and you were certain he’d be the one to take you away.

Your mother sat down next to you and placed a hand on your knee, leaning into you. “Don’t you dare go looking at this one all puppy eyed, I gave you good men you will not be falling for this monstrosity.” She said through gritted teeth, but her warning was moot, you’d already made up your mind.

The dinner went as every other did, your mother would ask questions and listen closely to the answers, except she didn’t. She didn’t care what this man, Saul was his name, had to say.

You sat idly by and ate, gaze flickering over to him all too frequently, he was sure to notice but he didn’t bring it up or look back at you.

His voice didn’t match his appearance. He was soft spoken and only spoke when told to, he rarely looked up from his plate and when he did he didn’t make eye contact.

Saul Hudson to be wed, you could see it in the papers now.

“I play guitar in a band.” He said, it broke through your day dreaming haze.

“You-you play..?” Your mother sputtered out, unable to even finish her sentence.

Saul nodded, a wide grin on his face and he looked up at you, still not making eye contact. His gaze flicked from your lips down to your shoulders, you didn’t dare guess where else he was looking. “Big band, Guns N’ Roses.” He clarified. “Playing stadiums now.” His mother smiled proudly over at him.

You wiped your mouth on a napkin and stood, quietly excusing yourself from the table. The food was gone and what was left needed to be packed away now anyway, you were just leaving it for other people.

You went to your room and sat down at your desk once more, staring at yourself in the mirror. Something new filled you, you wanted his attention, all of it. You wanted to run with him, to venture with him. He’d take you all over with his band and he’d love you. He was gentle and he wouldn’t hurt you, he wouldn’t flaunt his money, only buy you jewelry for your birthday and flowers when he loved you, just because.

You dug through your drawers and tried to find something… big, a statement piece for your face. Your attention snapped to the door as it opened and Saul walked in.

He was hesitant at first, staring at you bent over a desk drawer and digging through it like a mad man. He came over and stood just beside you, placing a hand on your lower back as he looked through the drawers for you.

Saul pulled out a deep red lipstick. He brought a finger under your chin and tilted your head for him to see you properly.

You were struck, in your core a pulse came with a heat, a desire, but you snapped out of it quick enough to wipe the gloss you already had off your lips so he’d have a bare canvas to work with.

He smiled down at you and got to work, using the tip yo outline your lips before filling them in.

You looked back at yourself in the mirror, Saul now stood behind you with his hands on your hips. He didn’t look in the mirror, he stared at you in front of him, the side of your face and how pleased you seemed with his work.

You turned back to him. “Do more.” You asked, drawing a chuckle from him and he shook his head, by god you made him laugh and you wanted to hear it again and again for as long as you lived.

“I don’t know anymore.” He said, bringing his hands to your shoulders and turning you around again. He leaned down to you, his lips caressing the shell of your ear. “You do it, you can’t mess up when it’s just gonna be running down your face in a minute anyway.”

You paused a moment and looked back to him. “Why? Will you make me cry?” He nodded confidently, you looked back to the mirror. “Why would you do that? Will you leave?” You asked curiously.

“More than one way to make someone cry.” He said, rubbing your shoulders. He inhaled deeply, taking in your saddened expression, you clearly didn’t get what he was referring to. He’d just have to show you once you looked the part, well enough the part anyway, you didn’t have the clothes.

“Heavier on the eyes.” He said as you tapped on a bright red, something to connect the lipstick while still being different. You picked up your pencil liner but he took it from you and had you turn towards him. “Gimme a second.” He said with a smile, being careful to not poke you in the eye as he worked.

He was giggling when he turned you back to the mirror. You had a leopard print on your eyelids and whiskers on your cheeks. The print on your eyes was pretty, neat and well done, the whiskers were an afterthought he was enjoying much too much.

You stood up and turned to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s perfect!” You exclaimed, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, he couldn’t say no to that.

He wasn’t a gentleman, not by a long shot, he was just sweet. The first chance he got his hands were on your ass, pulling your dress up over your head and not caring if he smudged it, not one bit.

Your arms went around his neck and he lifted you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist while he carried you to your bed and laid you down.

He was laying over you, an arm holding him up by your head, his other hand moved down between your legs, rubbing through your folds and catching your clit, feeling how wet you already were for him.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked, already starting to trail kisses up your jaw towards your ear. You hesitated before slowly shook your head, hoping it wouldn’t make him stop. Luckily he didn’t and just sucked his teeth. “Well, I don’t feel like slowing down for you.” He said sitting back up and undo his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his dick to spring free, of course he didn’t wear boxers. “Just tell me if it hurts.” He said as he pushed into you, groaning as he did.

Despite his words he did give you a minute to adjust to him, running his hands up and down yours sides until he felt you were ready and he started moving, slow at first but he couldn’t keep that pace for long.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, tugging you closer to him as his hips slammed into yours, each thrust bringing you closer to an edge you’d never seen before.

He was perfect above you, full lips, bruised just like yours, parted ever so slightly in soft, low grunts and groans. Sweat clung to his curls just around his face, the rest of his mane framing his sharp jaw. His teeth were crooked and he didn’t look right at you, focusing on feeling good, making you feel good.

You didn’t have anything to compare it to, but this was definitely the best you’d ever felt. Free, and it felt so good. You reached down and found your clit, rubbing it in circles.

Saul chuckled over you and nodded in approval. “Just keep doing that, keep doing that.” He said. You could feel him inside you, veins dragging against your gummy walls, cunt pulling him in for more, every time he pulled away you sucked him back in.

You melted into the mattress, vision going white and when you came doing from it you felt something warm spilling out inside you, Saul’s face tucked into you and he kissed over your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling his tongue around it.

Finally he pulled away and pulled away and sat up, fixing his pants before heading out to your balcony. You saw he was smoking, he just looked so… you couldn’t even describe it.

You got your dress back on and went out to stand with him.

He smiled at you when you came out, he held the cigarette out for you but took it away before you got the chance to get it. “No way in hell am I letting you do that.” He said with a laugh.

You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. He glanced down at you as he took a drag from his cigarette. “It’s pretty tonight.” You said.

He nodded, looking out on the cities lights below. Your house was up on a mountain, giving you a good view all around. “I bet it’s a pretty night for you every night.”

You smirked up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you live here, you see it every night.” That’s not what you were expecting.

You looked back out to the city. “I want to see more… with you, Saul.”

He let out a heavy sigh, he wanted you with him too. You were intriguing to him, you needed a chance to rebel and he knew you would never stay with him, not after growing up like this, but he could be the one with you to see the world and that was enough. “Slash.” He said. “If you’re coming with me you call me Slash.”

“Slash.” You repeated. “Slash Hudson.” He might regret this, but he didn’t care. In that moment, he didn’t care about anything.

Learning to Talk

Summary: so I was thinking of you could write one, where gf reader is in a sad phase, and bf Slash is not paying attention to it, because he is only thinking of drugs, booze, and partying, so during an argument she decides to take a lot of his drugs and she goes kind of crazy to shock him and to get his attention?? But can it be a happy end?

Requested: yes by anon

Warning: drugs, alcohol

Y/N had to admit as much as she loved her boyfriend Slash, he was driving her crazy and stressing her out with the drugs and alcohol. She had been somewhat okay with it at first thinking it was a once in a blue moon, but here recently it was getting more and more out of hand.

It didn’t help that Y/N had been feeling a little down the past few days. She didn’t really know the source of it, but she had been out of sorts. What sucked the most was Saul didn’t seem to care or notice. It made her want to scream in frustration, but she just huffed next to him as he was drinking whiskey.

“What’s the problem, Y/N?” Saul asked, looking over at her.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you can’t stay sober when it’s just you and me,” she said, waving a hand towards the bottle of Jack.

“I didn’t think it was such a big deal,” he argued.

“Saul, come on. Every time it’s just me and you, you have to be drunk or high. Am I not good enough or what?” she asked.

“You’re perfect. I don’t have, and I don’t have to. Just didn’t think that it was such a big deal,” he said. “I thought you knew that.”

“Well, you don’t even act like you notice me half the time,” she said.

Saul sighed heavily and threw his hands up. “What does that mean?”

Y/N stood up and glared down at him. “It means what it means, Saul. You have all kinds of girls throwing themselves at you, and I have seen how you look at them,” she yelled.

“I don’t look at them in any way,” Slash argued. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

Y/N groaned. “Do you still even care about me?”

“Of course, I do,” he said.

“Then why are you always getting drunk around me?” Y/N asked. “What if I did that to you?”

“I never thought that it was bothering you,” he said, looking at her shocked.

“Of course,” she yelled, running to their room. She had an idea that came from her determination to get him to realize what she did. She locked the door to their bedroom and heard him rushing after her.

Y/N went to his dresser, digging around until she found his stash. There were pills and unused needles and some things that she didn’t even know what it was. She pulled out the pills since she hated needles and wasn’t about to do that to herself.

“What are you doing?” Saul yelled through the door.

“A taste of what you do to me,” she shot back, furious.

She threw several of the pills in her mouth and swallowed as she heard Slash banging on the door. “Babe, let’s talk this out,” he said. The doorknob started to wiggle around.

She sunk down to the floor, afraid about what she just did. “I already took your pills,” she said.

“Puke them up,” he shouted.

It was long before she started to feel lightheaded and more than a little loopy. She screamed when the bedroom door flew off the hinges. Slash rushed towards, completely unfazed by the door.

He saw the rest of his drugs spilled out on the floor along with his socks and sleep shirts. “How many did you take?” he asked, trying to count the pills on the floor.

“Like four, maybe five,” she said. “I didn’t count them.”

Saul’s eyes widened. “Open your mouth,” he said.

In that moment, she didn’t think about disobeying him. She opened her mouth, and he shoved his fingers into the back of her throat, causing her to puke.

She vomited all over the floor and even on him a little. He didn’t seem to mind as he looked around in the vomit to see if the pills came up. He looked at her, and she let him trigger her gag reflex again. She puked again and one last pill came up.

He looked at her and picked her up, carrying her into the bathroom. Slash set her on the counter as he went to work on getting the bath ready.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked, looking at him.

“Giving you a bath. You’re gonna need it,” he said. “I’m also going to give some of those charcoal pills that I have.”

Y/N was shocked and extremely touched. “Why?”

“Because I love you even if you make me break down doors,” Saul said.

***

After a few days, Saul and Y/N had actually talked things through. They got to the root of the issue. Y/N had admitted that she felt that he was moving on because of all the groupies and the drugs.

Saul agreed to sober up and at the concerts whenever groupies were around he did his best to ignore them and prove that he was truly faithful to her like he had always been. He just never realized how seeing them trying to throw themselves at him made Y/N uncomfortable.

Y/N started to feel more comfortable opening up and actually talking through her own thoughts and not holding it all in. Especially after that scare with the pills. She could still remember how Saul watched her for two weeks, refusing to leave her like he was afraid that she was completely okay or that she was going to do it again.

Talking helped, and they did it so much that they learned more about each other than at the beginning of their relationship.

Jealous

Summary: Could you write an imagine where the reader and slash get into an argument about her getting “too close” to Nikki causing him to get jealous and aggressive towards Nikki

Requested: yes by anon

Warnings: jealousy, drinking

Y/N groaned, hearing Slash bringing up the same argument again. “I’m not into him, Saul. Nikki is just a friend,” she said.

“I get that’s how you see it, love. But he doesn’t,” Saul replied. He was obviously pissed and slightly jealous.

“Saul, don’t worry so much. He knows that we are just friends, and he knows that I’m most definitely with you,” Y/N said, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Saul sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist. “If he tries something one time, I’m kicking his ass,” he warned.

***

The party was already crowded by the time Slash and Y/N. She smiled and waved at Tommy and Mick. Then she felt Saul tense beside her. Y/N followed his line of sight and saw Nikki.

“Be nice, babe,” she said. “Trust me, okay?”

Saul sighed and nodded. “You wanna a drink?”

Y/N nodded. “Of course,” she said.

Slash walked off, but she knew that he would come back as fast as he could. He hated leaving her alone at parties like this, and in all honesty, she liked having him at her side. She hated when some random guy would try to hit on her and wouldn’t listen.

“Hey, stranger,” Nikki said, smiling at her.

“Hey yourself,” she replied. “How have you been?”

“Been having the time of my life. What about you?” he asked.

“Enjoying life with Saul,” she answered.

Nikki laughed. “So where did he go?”

“I got the two of us drinks,” Saul said. He handed a cup to Y/N and glared at Nikki.

“Do I not get one?” the bassist asked.

Saul shook his head and moved in closer to Y/N. She knew that her boyfriend was trying his best to be nice, but at the same time didn’t trust Nikki.

After awhile Saul and Y/N went to talk to Duff and Steven. Which she was thankful for. Saul didn’t get jealous around them.

She slipped away from him and went to the bathroom. When she got out, she bumped into Nikki again.

“So we run into each other again,” Nikki teased.

“The first time I didn’t even touch you,” Y/N pointed out.

Nikki looked around and noticed that Slash wasn’t around. “And your guard dog isn’t around.”

Y/N looked at him questioningly. She had never seen him like this where he seemed to be looking her over and looked like he was ready to do something that she didn’t want.

He leaned in, and she pushed him back. “Nikki, no,” she said.

“Oh, come on. Lighten up. I won’t tell your boy,” he slurred.

She knew that he was drunk, but she had never expected him to act like this. Y/N shoved him back. “Nikki, back off,” she said again.

Nikki tried grabbing her, but he didn’t have a good hold. Y/N easily shook off his hold and rushed back to Saul. He could tell from the look of her face that she was pissed.

“What happened?” Saul asked.

“You were right,” she admitted. She didn’t really want to get into it here, and she wanted to go home.

“What did he do?” her boyfriend asked.

“He tried to kiss me,” she answered.

Saul rushed past her and went straight for Nikki when he saw him. Y/N turned to see Slash land a punch on Nikki’s nose.

“What the hell?” Nikki shouted.

“You put your hands on Y/N,” Saul growled.

“Nothing happened,” Nikki yelled.

Slash looked as if he was ready to beat Nikki where he stood. Y/N ran up to the guitarist and grabbed his arm. “Come on! Let’s just go home,” she said, tugging him towards the door.

Saul glared at Nikki, but let himself be dragged out of the house. Once they were in the car, Saul looked at her. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, he was just an ass,” she answered.

Saul started the car and drove them to their home. The ride was pretty quiet for the most part with the occasional ‘are you okay?’ from Saul and her telling him that she was.

When he turned into their driveway, she asked, “You’re not going to give me an ‘I told you so’?”

“No, I’m not. I understand that you didn’t have feelings for him, but it was always him that I worried about. And I’m not going to be a dick because I was right,” he said just as he got out of the car.

She did as well and threw herself at him and hugged him tightly. “I love you,” she whispered.

“Love you too, babe,” he said as he picked her up and carried her to their bed.

Ain’t No Rockstar

A/N: It felt like this took me forever to write. But I solved all my problems with it and I’ve decided I’m gonna turn it into a series. Maybe give it one or two more parts, we’ll see. If you lovely people could, I would appreciate it if you could send me gifs cause they never want to load on my wifi. I’m changing a bunch of stuff, like my color and profile pics because I felt like it, and my masterlist is gonna get redone. Just wanted to let you guys know about that before it happens. Requests are open, so send ‘em in and I hope you guys enjoy.

*~~*~~*

Masterlist

Slash x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Part 1 of 3 (Maybe)

Summary: Y/n was nothing more than a stressed out makeup artist, at least that all she thought she was. It turns out that she was more than that to one member of the band she was working for. Not only would she have to navigate both his and her feelings, but she would also have to find the courage to seize what she wanted before it disappeared.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Long as hell, language, alcohol, mention of drugs

The smell of hairspray mixed with smoke filled her nostrils as Y/n tested out the bottle. She was going through hairspray like crazy and it didn’t help that half of the bottles wouldn’t work. Pressing the nozzle down, she waited for the sheer mist to appear before turning back to the person sitting in front of her. 

Doing hair and makeup had never been her ideal job. Though, when asked what job that might be, she had no answer. All she knew was what wouldn’t make her happy. She’d learned that running wasn’t for her, neither was waiting tables, and that coffee wasn’t the best drink in the world while yellow didn’t please her eyes. But when she was asked what was for her, what drink was best, and what color pleased her eyes, her mind would go blank. How was she supposed to know the answer to any of those? She’d barely experienced life, She was at the beginning of a journey that had yet to begin.

Y/n sighed as she thought about her “shortcomings”– as her mother called them. Playing with the auburn hair in front of her, she shaped and teased it to the height she wanted before spraying it with the can in hand. 

Y/n looked at the man sitting in front of her through the mirror, “Is that high enough, Axl?”

Axl didn’t even bother to look, too engrossed by the conversation he was having with his bandmates to care about his hair, and Y/n sighed.  Grabbing the comb off the vanity in front of them, she decided that the hair hadn’t been teased high enough. He would bitch either way: it was either too high or too low. Nevertheless, she began to run the comb against his hair, spraying it as she went along, the toxic mist hitting her in the face as she went along.

Y/n may not have known what she wanted to do with her life, but one thing she knew for sure was that she didn’t want to deal with rock stars. Glancing at the men around her, she reflected on their dark leather jackets, ripped jeans, ‘I-don’t-care’ attitudes, and wasn’t sure how people put up with them. In her mind, they were like crows. Screeching at the most random of times and doing whatever they pleased, not caring who it upset. Never once in her time of getting them ready for shows or photoshoots had she seen them drink something that wasn’t intoxicating, or manage to stay out of trouble. They were the outcasts, the black cats that people were wary about, and with good reason.

Being outcasts didn’t matter to her, though. Not when they were such assholes. If they weren’t busy pissing each other off, they were pissing everyone else off. On multiple occasions, stylists, photographers, and assistants had quit because they could no longer handle the group. Vices stacked against them or not, they weren’t a bunch of innocent schoolboys, anyone who thought so was a fool. 

“I look like a fucking poodle,” Axl grunted, looking up for the first time and wincing at his appearance. Y/n rolled her eyes, combing out some of the hair. “It’s too big! I don’t want to look like I borrowed a wig from Dolly Parton!”

Her jaw set as a fake smile crossed on her lips and she nodded. “Lower then.”

He smiled. “Yes, lower.”

The smile disappeared once she went back to work, trying to comb out his unruly hair. As she brushed the hair back down, she couldn’t help but think about her shortcomings. It wasn’t that she failed to know what brought her joy, it was all the things she wanted to do. The things that were just out of reach. At one time, she wanted to learn how to surf but that idea went away when she took on the job as a makeup artist. All the time that she thought she had vanished once she started applying people’s makeup and styling their hair. Before that, she had wanted to learn to dance. Her mother had been a ballet dancer, performing for large crowds throughout Europe and the US. The dream of dancing, ballet or not, faded when she realized she couldn’t afford the classes. Time and money were never on her side, nor had they ever been. The only dreams she still held firmly to were ‘foolish’ ones, ones that would get a good laugh from her mother, who had seen the world, and the men around her, who didn’t care.

Touching up the combed out hair, she finally set the hairspray and comb down. 

“How about that?” she asked, stepping back to look at her work herself.

He shrugged, “It’ll have to do, I guess.”

Axl stood from the chair and walked over to the couch. Sitting down, he snatched a bottle of whiskey off the table in front of him and drank it as though it were water. Whatever nerves he was trying to numb was nothing in comparison to the stress that was bubbling up inside of her. A drink, a nice, long, refreshing drink that would wash away her problems was what she needed. Anything at all, any fix, permanent or not was what she yearned for.

Y/n turned her attention to the supplies in front of her. Axl was the last of the boys she had to do, meaning it was time for her to pack up and leave and she sure as hell wasn’t complaining, even though she wasn’ going that far. . They were on tour and this was just one of the many photo shoots they’d be doing, with a show a few hours later that she’d need to get them ready for. She picked up the combs and brushes, dropping them into a bag for her to sort out later, before shoving eyeliner and powder into her makeup case, not caring if they were in their correct spots. 

“Are you gonna stay for the show tonight?” Saul asked, fiddling with his cigarette in one hand, a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.

She shook her head in response, not bothering to turn around. 

“Why not? It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

Y/n sighed, shutting the makeup case after checking the counter to make sure she didn’t leave anything out, “I can think of a million other things I’d rather do than watch your show.”

Axl scoffed, earning a snicker from Steve and Duff.

 “Like what? It’s not like you do that much around here. I’m sure organizing your bags-” He gestured to the case she had in front of her. “-will take all night.”

The sarcasm in his voice burned in her ears. Out of all the people in the world, she got stuck doing their makeup…stuck doing the makeup for overgrown children. 

“Whatever,” Y/n  said, grabbing her makeup case and hair bag before walking out of the room. She could also think of a million other places she’d rather be.

When she was out of sight, Saul turned to his friends, disappointment in his eyes, “Why’d you have to do that?”

Confused faces looked back at him. 

“She puts up with our shit all the time, can’t you guys give her a break for once?”

Duff raised a brow. They all were aware of how much they stressed those around them out. Hell, they stressed each other out. But they never cared. As friends, they just brushed it off and when it came to other people, they expected them to do the same. It wasn’t like they were going to change their ways anytime soon. 

“You want us-” The blonde pointed to everyone. “-to give her a break?”

 He spoke each word slowly, trying to make sure his friend understood his question. Making sure he understood the question he had been asked.

Saul nodded, brushing black coils out of his face. “Yeah.”

Just as he was about to ask why the answer hit him like a ton of bricks. Duff drew in a breath, his jaw dropping. He hadn’t thought of it before, never once had it crossed his mind, but looking back now, it made sense, “You like her!”

It was hard for him to deny the accusation when he felt his cheeks burn. Silence wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so he nodded. “Maybe I do.”

Axl shook his head. “And we’re now just hearing about this!?!”

Saul didn’t know what to say. Y/n had a million reasons she wasn’t going to the show and he had a million reasons as to why he’d never shared the information before. He looked down at his hands, avoiding the eyes burning him. 

“It’s not like it matters anyway. She’s clearly disgusted by us.”

The words stung coming off his tongue but they were true. He saw the way she looked at them, saw the glances through the mirror. She wasn’t impressed by them like the millions of other girls were. In her eyes, they were probably nothing more then flies–annoying creatures that only made her job more difficult. They were a pain in the ass and if she didn’t need the money, he knew she would have no problem parting ways with the band. 

“I would be, too. Have you seen how greasy Izzy’s hair gets?” Steven commented from the other side of the room. 

Izzy glared at him while Saul shook his head.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Leaning back, he stared at the ceiling. “She sees us as drug addicts, just like the rest of the population. She wouldn’t want anything to do with any one of us outside of work.”

“You don’t know that. She may be hopped up on drugs like the rest of us,” Duff tried to assure him. 

“Whatever,” he sighed. “Just forget I didn’t mention it.”

*~~*~~*

Y/n heaved a sigh, lifting her makeup case into a compartment on the tour bus. When everything was put away, she took a seat around the tiny table the bus had to offer. Laying her head on the cold surface, she closed her eyes.

Everything was unusually quiet. There were no people bustling around outside, moving equipment and instruments, no fans screaming like the world was ending, no nothing. For once she escaped the madness that normally encased her like a cacoon. Any peace and quiet she could get while on tour she would take. Everyone, besides the band, felt that way when they weren’t around. Silence was a god’s send to those that were busting their ass, trying to make the shows run smoothly. 

In the silence, she could almost picture what her life used to look like. Scenes of stirring a bowl of cake batter with her mother next to her, played behind her eyelids, as  Mozart’s “Der Hölle Rache” played softly in the background. Memories like those sweet, gentle, moments like that were ones she missed. Sadly, those were gone, blowing away in the wind, left in their place were rough and wild moments that rushed together, colliding in violent fights. Nothing she would want to remember, let alone look back on during moments of peace.

“Rough day?”

Y/n opened her eyes, lifting her head to see Jessica, one of the sound techs, open the fridge and pull out a water bottle. She shrugged, “No rougher than usual.”

“They’re a lot to handle, though.” Jessica tossed Y/n a water before opening her own. “I’m impressed you’ve lasted this long. The last makeup artist lasted, oh, maybe three weeks.”

Y/n toyed with the water bottle, processing the information. Her third week working for the band was also the week that she had contemplated quitting almost every day. It was just a long enough period of time to know the boys enough but not enough, causing false assumptions. Though many of her assumptions were true, a longer period was needed for her to fully adjust to their wild behavior. That’s probably why the last makeup artist quit, they hadn’t given themselves enough time to get used to the wild and restless. She didn’t think anyone would be able to get used to their behavior, only block it out.

“I’m not sure how much longer I can last, though,” She said with a sigh. “I enjoy what I do, really, but it’s just… I don’t know.” She shook her head, “They frustrate me to no end. Either their hair is too flat, too greasy, or too high. Too this, too that. It doesn’t even matter, they just like to complain.”

Jessica chuckled, a slight smile forming on her lips. “It sounds like you need a drink. Something a little stronger than water.”

“No kidding.”

“Don’t let them get to you, Y/n. As hard as it may seem, you just need to focus on the task at hand, not those that make the task harder. You know what I mean?”

Y/n nodded, opening her water and taking a sip. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”

“Good,” Jessica smiled. “Cause they are clearly stressing you out and stress isn’t good for anyone. Plus, my mother says it causes wrinkles and no one wants those.”

Y/n shook her head, her lips tugging into a smile as Jessica left her in peace. 

Maybe the boys were stressing her out. The thought had never crossed her mind, she was always too focused on making them look perfect to notice. But upon further inspection, it made sense. The overwhelmed, anxious feeling that always lingered in her chest hours after she was finished with her work and the tossing and turning she did at night were dead giveaways to the stress she was under. If she looked in the mirror, she was sure that there would be bags under her eyes, but, lately, she never looked in the mirror to look at herself only the people she was working one. Yet, with the stress she was facing, she hadn’t given it a thought.

Y/n sighed, moving from the table, she crouched next to her bunk and pulled out the guitar case that she stored under it. She placed the case on the table, opening it, and felt her shoulders drop when her eyes met a  dark blue acoustic guitar. Running her fingers over the fretboard, she took a deep breath before pulling it out of the case.

*~~*~~*

Saul ran a hand through his curled hair, ruining the work that had been done to it earlier. Stepping out of the concert hall, he took a deep breath, glad to be outside, to be away from the relentless teasing of his friends. Even though he asked them to forget he mentioned it, they couldn’t do that. It was just too easy to forget something. He sighed and decided to walk around for a bit. Maybe some time away from them would slow his racing heart down. 

That thought became less and less likely as he walked, his brain mulling over his emotions that were running wild. He didn’t just like Y/n, the guitarist felt that he was coming to love her. It was foolish when he knew he didn’t stand a chance, yet the feelings didn’t waver, they stood firm like a hardwood in a rainstorm. 

What a fool he was. 

The boys and him could have any girl they wanted, girls fell into their laps like apples fall from trees, yet he that wasn’t good enough for him. His friends weren’t picky, not giving a thought to their emotions, not letting their feelings eat away at them. They were satisfied with any girl that came their way, Saul wasn’t. He wanted to be, he didn’t want his heart to race at the thought of one person, but that seemed to be what he was stuck with.

Saul pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulling one out and lighting it in hopes that it would help calm his heart down. Taking a drag, he tried to focus on the show, the after-party, their next stop, anything to distract him from what was eating him up inside. Nothing was working, nothing was strong enough to deter his mind from the emotions that he felt. He was just about to grab a bottle of vodka from the band’s bus, hoping that it would drown his problems when he heard the faint sound of someone plucking at guitar strings.

Stopping in his tracks, he looked around, trying to pinpoint where the music was coming from. The tune wasn’t that interact, yet it intrigued him, drawing him to it. He started walking in the direction of the intoxicating sound. It was doing a far better job at wiping his mind than anything he had tried. Saul raised a brow when he was lead to the crew bus, he wasn’t sure who he was expecting to be behind the music, but he wouldn’t have guessed a crew member.

Climbing the steps of the bus, he was surprised by the scene in front of. Sitting on the couch was Y/n, a guitar resting in her arms. Saul leaned against the driver’s seat, watching her play the instrument. It was news to him that she knew how to play, but then again, it wasn’t like he’d ever asked. Their conversations had never gone further than how he wanted his hair done and what stage makeup he wanted. It never went further than that, leaving him to wonder what else he didn’t know about her. 

He wondered what her biggest fears were, where she grew up, what her favorite color was. He wanted to know when she learned to play, who taught her, her favorite song. Watching her concentrate on the cords, he wanted to know what made her her. What made her more than some makeup artist. He wanted to know her. 

Y/n shook her head, messing up a cord. It had been ages since the last time she’d played and clearly, she was a little rusty. She looked up from the guitar, going to rub the knot out of her neck when her eyes widened in surprise at the sight in front of her. “Saul.” She cleared her throat. “What are you doing here? Do you guys need me to do touch ups or something?”

He shook his head, hair bouncing about as a smile formed on his lips. “No, no. I was just passing by… I didn’t know you played.” He pointed at the instrument in her lap. “What song were you playing?”

Y/n’s cheeks heated up, embarrassed by the situation she found herself in, “Callin’ Baton Rouge.’ It’s by this country band, you probably wouldn’t know.”

“Your probably right, but I think you did the song justice.”

“I wouldn’t call it justice, it was really far from it.”

Saul looked at her in disbelief. “You may be out of practice, but that was amazing.”

She gave him a small smile and stood from the couch with the guitar in hand. “Maybe for an amateur it’s good, but I ain’t no rockstar.” She placed the instrument back in its case, latching it shut. “I’m not that good.” 

Y/n stepped back from the case, twisting her fingers around as she glanced up at him. Suddenly, the confidence that she always collected around him, around the band, was gone as she stood in front of him. She suddenly felt vulnerable, fully exposed as if she had been stripped naked. 

Silence filled the space between them, neither knew what to say.

“Uh… Well, I better get going,” Saul said, running a hand through his hair. He stopped when Y/n raised a disapproving brow. “See you before the show, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

He gave her a small smile before disappearing out of the bus.

Y/n was cemented in place as she watched him through the bus windows, her heart attempting to beat out of her chest and the room suddenly getting warmer. She wasn’t sure what was coming over her, but she knew it had everything to do with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part and I’d love feedback.)

Permanent Taglist: @rexorangecouny @zestygingergirl @jennyggggrrr

Packing

Summary: can I ask for an imagine where you break up with slash because it just doesn’t work out anymore? And it’s just really sad but the best for the both of them?

Requested: yes by anon

Warnings: mentions of cheating

As much as Y/N wished to make things right with Saul, she knew that there was no going back. The two of them had just grown apart when the band got famous. When they were just playing the clubs, Y/N thought she would be okay with the girls throwing themselves at him.

She was there to keep them away. Then he went on tour, and Y/N didn’t know if he was staying faithful or not. She knew that she had accused him of cheating several times in the last few months. Each time without any proof.

Then there was him ignoring her and forgetting to call home, and when he was home, he avoided her like the plague. And when they talked, they were yelling at each other, accusing both of cheating and not trusting each other.

Y/N now stood in the house, packing everything that was hers. She loved this house. She had picked it out with Saul back when they were beginning to talk about marriage and thinking about having kids. That was out the window, but she was moving in with a friend until she could get back on her own feet.

She went back to back folding up the last of her clothes. This was the last of it in Saul’s house, and she was hoping to get out of here before he came back. She really didn’t want to see him.

She thought about the last fight they had.

***

“Where the hell have you been?” Saul yelled.

“I went out with friends,” Y/N replied. “It’s not like the times you go on tour and fuck around with a bunch of groupies.”

Saul threw his hands up. “Jesus, Y/N! Not this again. I’m not cheating on you,” he said.

Saul glared at her, and she glared right back. She knew that she shouldn’t be accusing him of cheating with no proof, but she suspected that he was for several months. Then Saul had started accusing her of the same, and really she wasn’t. At least not sober.

Her friends had taken her out for a girls’ night, and she had gotten a little too drunk and ended up kissing a stranger. It didn’t go too far past that, and she felt terrible. The only thing that had stopped her from going too far was a friend had walked in on her and took her home.

“I don’t know how many times that I have to tell you that I haven’t cheated on you and that I never would,” he argued.

That stopped her in her tracks because she could hear the hurt in his voice. “It’s because I can’t trust myself,” she said weakly.

Saul had been pacing around the living room when she finished her sentence. “What do you mean?” he asked frozen in his spot.

***

Why had Y/N opened her mouth? She had told him what happened and how she felt. In all honesty, she had convinced him that they would try to work things out. They had done absolutely everything they could and try to make things better, but nothing they did worked.

So here she was carrying the last of her bags out to her car just as Saul was pulling up. Y/N sighed and tried to not cry again especially in front of him.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly.

“Hey,” she replied just as nervously.

“So, uh, you got all of your stuff?” Slash asked.

“Yeah, I did,” she answered.

“Well, good,” he said. He wasn’t be rude. He just didn’t seem to know what else to say, and she didn’t either.

“I’ll see you around, I guess,” she said, shutting the trunk of her car.

“You know I don’t hold a grudge against you,” Slash called out before she got to the driver’s side of the car.

“And I’m just so sorry for what I did,” she said.

More than Friends

Summary: can you do a slash imagine where slash hates her and she’s friends with Steven so they see each other a lot and they start becoming friends and then become lovers with some smut.

Requested: yes by anon

Warnings: sex

To say that Slash disliked Y/N was an understatement. Every time she was around him, he had some snide, rude comment about her, and she never understood why. There was nothing that she could think of to bring on his wrath and to have it all directed towards her.

And in all honesty, she would rather not hang out with him, but her best friend was friends with him too. Y/N couldn’t say no to Steven sometimes, so she tried her best to just play nice with Saul and act as if his comments didn’t affect her like it did.

She sat in the living room that Steven and his band shared in their apartment. It was kind of small, but it was all that they could afford at the moment. Plus, she wasn’t judging. She lived in an even tinier apartment and could barely afford it all on her own.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Saul asked, annoyance ringing in his voice.

“Steven invited me over, okay?” she replied. “I don’t know why you are so annoyed by the fact that my friend wants to me over.”

Saul hugged and sat down on the couch. “Oh, come on! You just want in his pants because he is in a band,” he retorted.

“You know I went to high school with you too. And I was friends with him then. And what I don’t get is that you have always treated me like I’m some chick out to get you,” she argued. “I have never been anything but nice to you, and yet I’m beneath you for some reason!”

Saul looked at her as if trying to measure his reaction. “That wasn’t nice,” he pointed out.

“Well, get over it. After all these years, I feel like I have the right to chew you out over the shit that you have done to me,” Y/N shot back.

Saul started to laugh, and when she glared at him, he said, “Look, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just laughing because you’re cute when you’re mad.”

“Shut up!” Y/N yelled.

***

After that day, Saul actually started to be nicer. Well, to an extent. He would still have his smartass responses, but Y/N had grown used to it and learned that it was just a quirk about him. What was odd was when they started to hang out without Steven around. They would be around each other more and more often and not have anyone else around.

She smiled as she sat down next to Saul as they absently watched TV. There wasn’t anything good on, but it was a rainy day and everyone else was out working at their own jobs.

“You know I still want to know why you were so mean to me,” she said.

“Uh, to be honest, I didn’t want to like the girl that was hanging around Steven,” Saul said.

“Wait! You liked me?” Y/N asked, shocked.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to piss him off,” he replied.

Y/n looked at him and rolled her eyes. “So you decided to piss me off instead,” she pointed out.

It was kind of a shock to her that he was admitting this to her. There had always been an attraction to him on her part since knowing him, but she had never acted on those feelings because of how he was.

Saul laughed. “Well, I didn’t know what else to do,” he said.

“You could have just told me how you felt.” Y/N looked over at him, wondering if he was going to act out on them now. Or if he had changed his mind about her.

“Oh, and what would that have gotten me?” Saul asked her.

Y/N looked at him and decided to say screw it. She leaned into him and brushed her lips against his. “This,” she whispered.

She felt Slash smile as he kissed her back. She moved her hands to his shoulders and held herself against him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue brushed across her top lip. As he grabbed onto her hips, he pulled her into his lap.

Their tongues tangled together as Y/N tugged his shirt off. They were both rubbing against each other and pulled each other’s clothes off which it didn’t take long to have them both naked. Saul moved her around to where she was underneath him on the couch.

“Saul,” she pleaded as he pulled off her panties.

He slid them of her feet and kissed his way back up her body. He gave her a few licks on her center before coming up the rest of the way. They were both so ready with no need for foreplay at that moment.

Saul had himself lined up and pushed into her deeply. They both groaned at the feel of the other, but Saul didn’t hesitate to pick up the pace. Soon he was pounding into her and causing her to get closer and closer to her orgasm.

“Saul, I’m so close,” she whined.

He groaned and pushed harder into her. “Do it, love. Cum on me,” he demanded. “Want to feel you.”

His words were what did it. She felt her orgasm lock onto him as he rode her through it all. She rocked her hips against him, trying to encourage him to orgasm as well. It didn’t take long for her to feel him spurting inside of her.

He collapsed on her, giving her a complete feel of his full weight. She could feel his pounding heart against his chest, and she panted right along with him.

She smiled and rubbed his back a little as they both calmed down.

“So you two are finally friends,” Steven asked from the front door.

Y/N gasped and buried her face in Saul’s curly hair. She felt like she was going to die of embarrassment in that exact moment. Of course, Steven had to walk in right when she was making love with Slash.

“I say we are more than friends,” Saul corrected.

You Like Me?

A/n: Dudes, my list of requests are dwindling and I couldn’t be happier. Like I was drowning in them a week ago. I should have another Slash fic out tonight because you guys seem to really like him. And once that is posted I’m gonna try to work on a Duff fic, we’ll see how far I get on that. But anyway, I hope y’all enjoy.

*~~*~~*

Masterlist

Slash x Reader

Summary: Slash is consistent when it comes to flirting with Y/n. Whenever the opportunity arises, he takes it. And every single time she turns him down. That is until she overhears the guitarist pour out his feelings for her, making her feel bad for not returning them. Or so he thinks.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, smoking, probably something else

“Did you ever realize screw rhymes with me and you?”

Y/n rolled her eyes at Slash’s stupid pick up line. Honestly, she thought that he would have gotten the hint and given up. She wasn’t interested. At least, she wasn’t going to make it seem like she was.

“Oh, come on Y/n. That was a decent pickup line,” the man shrugged before grabbing his guitar. “If you didn’t like that, maybe I can sing you a song.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “I doubt I’ll like that either. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ve gotta go do my job.”

With that, she grabbed a bag of clothes Axl had bought and left the dressing room to take them to the tour bus. Along the way, she couldn’t help but smile at the stupid pick up line. She tried her best to be professional around the boys, she was their personal assistant after all. But that stupid pick up line. God, it made her smile. Y/n did her best to not let Slash get to her, she really did, but somehow he still managed to.

At first, she thought it was one of those stupid middle school crushes, the ones where you only start liking someone after you find out they like you. It was clear that Slash had a thing for her, the boys made sure she knew and the pickup lines further cemented it. So, when Y/n started to feel something for the guitarist, she brushed it off. She believed that she merely liked him for the wrong reason and that the feelings would pass. But then things changed. Suddenly she was more aware of him, always catching him in the crowd, and getting flustered around him. It was horrible to admit, but she was falling for him.

Entering the tour bus, Y/n walked to the back and opened a cabinet, shoving the bags into it before closing it. She walked over to the couch and collapsed onto it. “Why do I feel this way?”

She wasn’t sure how to answer that question or if there was even an answer. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to like the man, a part of her did, but the other part knew that it was unprofessional and any relationship with him wouldn’t last. Slash was a nice guy, no doubt about it, but he was still a rockstar. Getting with him would be like a death sentence for her heart if she fell too hard. Temptation lingered around every corner and even if she was to believe he wouldn’t fall for it, the temptations he faced were stronger than the ones she did. 

It would be hard for him to go from sleeping with different women every night to sleeping with one. He didn’t seem like the kind that did that. Relationships were something she’d never seen him in. Sure, a girl lingered around for a few days, maybe a month, but then she’d leave and be replaced by someone else. Y/n didn’t want that to happen to her. She didn’t want to be replaced that easily.

So, she loved him in silence. The feelings would eventually fade. And if they didn’t? Well, she would just have to deal with it because she wasn’t willing to get her heartbroken when she could avoid it.

*~~*~~*

“Why would I do that?” Slash asked, running a hand through his hair. He winced when it got tangled in the curls and tried to get it out without pulling any hair out.

Duff shrugged, taking a drag on his cigarette. “Because you’re stupid and it may work.”

He raised a brow. If nothing he’d tried so far to win her heart had work, how was anything else supposed to do it?

“It will work,” his friend assured him. “Just trust me.”

Izzy laughed, looking at the two through the vanity mirror. “You really want to take advice from him?”

“Hey! I’m a married man, I think I know what I’m talking about,” Duff argued, grabbing a beer off the small table in front of him. 

“And how’s that going for you?”

The silence that followed was a good enough answer but didn’t help Slash one bit. He was in love and not sure what to do about it. Everyone had different answers and ideas on what he could do but none of them worked. Flirting with Y/n did nothing, talking to her more got him nowhere, being around her only made him want her more. Nothing he did helped him and it was frustrating.

“Maybe I-”

Y/n walked into the room with their food, setting it on the vanity. “I thought some food would do you all some good before the show.” She pulled a couple burgers out of a paper bag and threw them at Duff and Slash before handing one to Izzy. “Also, the photoshoot after the show has been canceled.”

Slash smiled at that and unwrapped his burger. “So, does that mean you’re free after the show?”

“Yes, but not for whatever you’re thinking,” she stated and grabbed the bag to go find Steven and Axl.

Izzy laughed once she was out of the room. “You’re never gonna get with her,” he let out between fits of laughter, causing Slash to through an empty can at him.

*~~*~~*

Struggling to carry all the boxes of shoes the boys insisted on taking on tour, Y/n walked through the backstage halls. It was a few hours before showtime, her busiest time of the day. It was the time when everyone was yelling at each to make everything look and feel perfect. The lights had to be hung in the perfect position, bags had to be in excisable places, and the boys had to stay out of trouble. As far as she knew, all three of those things were happening. She was almost entirely sure of it when she came close to Duff’s dressing room and heard faint voices she believed belonged to the boys.

“You need to let it go, dude. She’s clearly not interested,” Duff’s voice came from behind the door. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Y/n stopped next to the door, instantly recognizing the voice. It was Slash. It was wrong to eavesdrop, she knew that, but she couldn’t help herself. 

“I’m sure some chick would be more than willing to take her off your mind.”

Slash sighed in frustration. “No, this isn’t something like that. This is real, Duff. This is serious. I like her! No, scratch that, I fucking love Y/n and no whore is gonna change that!”

Her eyes went wide at the statement. He loved her, he actually loved her. Before she could fully register what she’d heard, someone stood up and walked towards the door. Y/n shifted the boxes and walked away as quickly as she could, not bothering to look back at whoever exited the room. 

She walked into Axl’s room, setting the boxes on the couch. The singer was fiddling with a guitar when she entered, but he’d since put it down, eyeing her with suspicion.

“Are you alright, Y/n?”

Y/n nodded and decided to stack the boxes neatly. 

How could she not be alright? She’d just learned that she’d been a complete bitch for no reason. Obviously, she was alright. Slash, on the other hand, probably wasn’t. He was probably beating himself up over everything. Y/n sighed, shaking her head. She should have at least given him a chance, he deserved that much. But no, she had to jump to the conclusion that all rockstars are the same and all they want is sex. 

Maybe that wasn’t all Slash wanted.

“Um, is there anything else you need?” she asked Axl as she approached the door, fingers crossed that he was all taken care of.

“I don’t think so…” he trailed off, watching her practically sprint out of the room. He would have questioned it, but he’d seen weirder shit during shows.

Y/n walked as quickly as she could without running anyone over. She weaved between sound tech and crew members, trying to find Slash. Popping her head into Duff’s dressing room, she frowned. Neither of the men were in there. With a huff, she continued down the hall, they couldn’t be that far. 

She’d looked for the man for over an hour, giving up when her feet were beginning to ache. And that’s why heels are Satan’s shoes, she thought and tossed them off. Y/n came to an empty hallway, furthest from the stage. Leaning against the wall, she sighed and slid down the wall. Resting her head against the cold bricks, she couldn’t help but be disappointed in herself. In keeping her heart from getting broken, she’d broken someone else’s. How fucking stupid. That just wasn’t fair. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but no matter how many times she told herself, at the end of the day she still had. 

“This is bullshit,” she muttered, playing the hem of her shirt. “Fucking bullshit.”

Y/n closed her eyes in an attempt to relieve some stress when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. She didn’t bother to see who it was, why would it matter? Then the footsteps stopped in front of her.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Slash asked.

Her eyes shot open and she was on her feet in an instant. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright.”

He nodded, not sure whether to believe that or not. “Izzy is looking for you. Lost his hat or something. I don’t know, but he won’t perform without it.”

Y/n bite her lip, nodding along to the information. Was now a good time to talk to him? It seemed like one of the only opportunities she’d get, but was it the right moment?

“He’s, ah, in his dressing room,” Slash gestured down the hall before turning around and walking the other direction. 

Y/n looked down the hall that would lead her to Izzy and back at Slash who was walking further and further away. It was now or never, she thought. Now or never. Taking a deep breath, she turned in the direction of the guitarist. 

“Slash!”

The man turned around just as he was about to place a cigarette in his mouth.

“Wait, wait. Can I talk to you?” she asked, running up to the man.

He shrugged, what could he do to stop her?

Y/n stopped in front of him, taking a deep breath. The man looked down at her, a brow raised.

“Okay, so I know that you probably don’t want to hear this and I probably just gonna ramble on,” she stated, fiddling with her fingers. “Stop me whenever you feel like it. Seriously, there may be no other way to stop the words. But anyway-” She swat at the air with her hand. “-I heard what you and Duff were talking about earlier, and I know I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but I don’t know.” She sighed, “I feel like a bitch. I feel horrible-”

“Why do you feel horrible?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. “You have no reason to. Turning me down shouldn’t make you feel like a shit person,” he raised his voice, emphasizing that he was the one in pain.

Y/n raised a hand in an attempt to calm him down. “I know, I know. And yeah, I feel like shit for that and you’re right, I shouldn’t. But I do because I kept turning you down because why would you want to go out with me if it weren’t just for sex? I’m the band’s assistant, I’m not some groupie, willing to throw myself at any of. So, yeah, maybe I thought all you wanted from me was sex,” she admitted. “Stupid of me to think so, but most of you guys act the same. And me liking you was something I thought would, you know, go away. You’d probably move on, like Duff said, find someone to take me off your mind. I-I don’t even know where I’m going with this,” she stated, biting her lip. 

She had a point, somewhere at the beginning she had a point.

“You like me?” the man asked, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.

Y/n nodded.

“And you’re serious?”

“I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself rambling on without a point if I wasn’t,” she laughed.

He nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips. “Alright, well then how about we catch dinner after the show if you’re serious about this.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile. Once she’d started talking, in the back of her mind, she thought that Slash would just ignore her. Hell, she probably hadn’t made any sense seeing as how she couldn’t remembering what she was getting at. “I’d like that.”

“Alright, well you’ll know where to find me.”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Well, I gotta go help Izzy, see you later.”

“See ya,” he waved as she walked down the hall. Once she was out of sight a huge grin came over his face. Damn, that felt good, to finally get her to say yes. It felt better than good, it felt fucking amazing! Now, he just had to figure out where they were going to eat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Permanent Taglist: @rexorangecouny @jennyggggrrr @zestygingergirl @slash-me-up @tommyleeownsme @sheldonsherlocktony @teller258316

Ain’t No Rockstar: Part two

A/n: I finally got around to writing the second part!!!! This didn’t turn out the way I thought it would, then again I’m not sure how I wanted it to turn out. But now I think the series will be just a little bit longer because I think I know what I want now. Anyway, if you didn’t know, I’m thinking of expanding who I write for and if you have any ideas, I’m all ears.

*~~*~~*

Masterlist

Slash x Reader

Part one

Summary:  Y/n was nothing more than a stressed out makeup artist, at least that all she thought she was. It turns out that she was more than that to one member of the band she was working for. Not only would she have to navigate both his and her feelings, but she would also have to find the courage to seize what she wanted before it disappeared.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Language, fluff, grammar ( I didn’t feel like editing)

Fingers running over the strings, Y/n sucked in a breath as she stared out in front of her. It was late, nearly one in the morning, and she couldn’t sleep. She thought that pulling out her guitar and playing a few cords would help pass time, but it didn’t. Once the instrument was in her hands, she froze. Any tune, any melody, anything that she knew vanished when she tried to play it. 

It had been like that for weeks now. Of course, she didn’t have much time to pull out the guitar, between doing hair and listening to the band whine, there was just never enough time. The last time she had been able to pluck at the strings was when Slash walked in on her on the tour bus. But that had been weeks ago and she wasn’t sure what changed, what caused her to tense up when she tried to run her fingers along the strings.

“Fuck,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes and setting the guitar on the bed.

Y/n knew what was eating at her but she didn’t want to admit it. It was foolish and she knew that she shouldn’t have let it get to her, but she couldn’t help it. Looking in the mirror every day, she hated the person that stared back at her. It wasn’t her looks, though they had been weathered by tour, it was who she had become. 

Before ever hearing the name Guns n’ Roses, Y/n was a happy girl. Like most, she was young and trying to figure out where she belonged. She dreamed of being a singer, she was quite good and knew her way around a handful of instruments, but that wasn’t good enough. In L.A., mere talent didn’t get you anywhere because there were ten other people who could do the same thing. How could she compete with that? How could she compete with hundreds of other people that were either as good as her or better? Everyone was looking for their big break, making it hard for her to find her’s. 

So, that dream had to be put on the back burner. It was still boiling hot, waiting for someone to take care of it, but it wasn’t a priority. What she needed was money, not the belief that her time would come. Because what if it never did? 

So she settled. 

It seemed that was the worst thing she could ever do as she stared out the hotel window. She settled for shit. Being a makeup artist wasn’t all it was cracked up to be and she had the honor of finding that out the hard way. If only she had picked a different band, there were countless out there that needed a makeup artist, instead of the one she was stuck with.

“Maybe I’ll go for a walk.” She pushed herself off the bed and stumbled through the dark to find decent clothes to put on.

Y/n wandered out into the hallway and walked through the lobby to be met by the brisk night air. It bite at her cheeks, causing her to wrap her jacket tightly around herself. Walking out into the parking lot, she caught a glimpse of a figure leaning against the tour bus. It was hard to make up in the darkness, but she was sure she knew who it was.

Walking closer, the little light that the moon provided illuminated the figure enough to prove her right.

“Slash?” she asked hesitantly, just as there was every chance she was right there was also every chance that she was wrong.

The man, who had been gazing up at the stars, looked down at her. “Couldn’t sleep?” was his response.

Y/n shrugged, moving to stand beside him. Few stars could be seen due to light pollution, but the few that were visible were breathtaking.

“Why aren’t you out partying with the boys?” she asked after a few minutes of silence engulfed them.

Slash shook his head, running a hand through his hair to move it away from his face. “Not in the mood tonight. Plus, Axl’s been acting like an asshole all day.”

She nodded, understanding that all too well. Axl was the worst for her to deal with out of all the boys. He acted entitled all the time like everyone owed him something, and his outbursts were dangerous. There were many times when the band’s manager had to pay for the damages the frontman had done to a dressing room.

“Why are you out here? Don’t you like your beauty sleep?” the guitarist asked her, turning his attention back to the sky above.

Beauty sleep, please. She hadn’t had any of that in a long ass time. 

“It’s hard to get beauty sleep when you can’t seem to go to sleep,” she told him, leaning against the cold exterior of the bus.

He hummed in agreement, wondering what could keep her up at night. Slash knew she was unhappy with where she found herself - stuck with a bunch of wild boys. Though, Y/n never stated such a thing, her expressions always showed it. There was never joy in her eyes when she did a task, when she teased Duff’s hair or when she powdered Izzy’s face. Even her smiles never met her eyes. It saddened him that she was so miserable, no one deserved that.

“How’s the guitar going?” He knew that was about the only thing that made her happy. Just thinking back to the day he walked in on her on the bus brought a smile to his face. She looked in her element with a guitar nestled in her arms.

“It’s going, I guess.” Y/n looked at him to find that he was watching her fiddle with her hands. “Can I be honest with you?”

The man nodded, fully turning his body towards her to give her his undivided attention. 

 “I haven’t really been able to sleep in weeks. I’ve tried everything and I mean everything. Nothing works and I just lay awake at night starring at the ceiling.” She sighed, running a hand over her face. “I can’t even play the fucking guitar anymore. I literally sit for hours, fucking hours, with it and I can’t do anything. It’s frustrating!”

“You push yourself too much.”

“What?”

Slash laughed, “Y/n, you push yourself too much. I know you don’t enjoy doing our hair and makeup.” Her eyes went wide, she hadn’t known she made it that clear. “It’s alright, I wouldn’t want to either, we are a bunch of assholes. But you clearly are struggling with yourself. Hey, I’ve been there before, so I know it’s not easy.”

He was right, she was pushing herself too much. She was pushing to find something better, to dig herself out of the hole she’d fallen into. Sure, it wasn’t bad, it was great compared to where other people found themselves, but it wasn’t where she wanted to be. And if pushing herself mental to be better, to picture what she wanted, was how she found something better than so be it.

“Does it get better?” Y/n wondered. “Because right now I feel that pushing myself in any direction is better than not doing anything. It makes me feel like I’m getting somewhere.”

He sighed, that was a good question.

“It’s alright if it doesn’t, though,” she told him with a sad smile. “If I burn out over this than who cares, right?”

“I care.”

Y/n bite her lip, turning to the curly-haired musician. “What?”

They weren’t friends, she didn’t want to be friends with the band. They were a bunch of animals that weren’t worth her time, but then there was Slash. After he’d walked onto the bus that one day her views of him changed. In an instant, they were altered and she was unable to get him off her mind. But she would have never thought that he remotely thought about her in any way.

He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what to say. Should he confess his feels or brush it off that she was important to the band? Y/n was important, without her the band would look like a bunch of pigs. But he’d had feelings for her for a long time and didn’t know how or when to tell her about them. Slash was sure she wouldn’t return them, he’d seen the way she looked at him and the boys, there was no way he stood a chance.

“Can I be honest now?” 

Y/n nodded, hoping that he would explain.

“I care if you burn out, Y/n.” He looked her in the eye, stepping a little closer to her. “I care because I’ve liked you for a while and I just didn’t know how to tell you. I see how you look at us, you’re disgusted by all of us and I understand if you want nothing to do with me, but I care if something happens to you.”

Y/n looked into his deep brown eyes, trying to find the lie. She hoped he wasn’t just saying that, that it wasn’t just something people say to make others feel better. But as she looked her over, nothing changed, his statement didn’t waver. 

Her lips turned into a small smile, “What if I felt the same? What then?”

“Well, there’s plenty of things we can do then,” he told her, bring his hand up to cup her cheek. “But I think first we should get you to bed.”

The bags under her eyes were finally visible as the moon moved overhead and it was finally evident that she hadn’t been getting much sleep.

She nodded, leaning into his touch. “Sounds good to me.”

Throwing an arm over her shoulder, the two walked back into the hotel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Ain’t No Rockstar Taglist: @snatchedbylele 

Stability

A/N: My dudes, I’m so sorry that I have been kinda MIA. I finally got the Steven Tyler fic out that I had been working on for ages. Well, I’ve been working on this one for a lot longer and it’s finally finished. I hope to get all my current requests done soon. Let’s hope in a timely manner. I just need to get my butt in gear and sit down and write this shit. I also hope to have the second part to songs for any occasion done soon. But, time flies when you’re doing just about anything, so we’ll see. Requests are open and I hope you enjoy. Love you guys!!!

*~~*~~*

Masterlist

Slash x Reader

Summary: Y/n’s parents are like every uptight Christian parents of the 80s. So, thinking Footloose would be the right direction. They want nothing to do with rock music and want to keep their daughter far from it. That is until she starts dating a man in a rock band. Now, Y/n’s afraid that they may never see him the same way she does.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None??? (Slash is referred to by his actual name because Y/n’s parents definitely wouldn’t approve if they had to call him Slash).

Y/n sighed, bored with the conversation that had been going on for what felt like hours even though it had been mere minutes. It wasn’t like it was the first time she’d had to have the conversation - it seemed that every time she’d mention or alluded to rock this conversation would start.

“I’m not saying you can’t date him, Y/n,” her father told her while he flipped through a stack of bills. “All I’m saying is that he isn’t good enough for you. Will he be able to support you once his music career fails? Will he even want to marry you or just discard you once he gets bored?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter, wishing nuclear fall out were an option.

Her mother nodded from her place in front of the stove. “Your father has a point, dear. Stability is key to a happy life and he may not be able to offer you that,” she told her daughter while she stirred the pot in front of her. “So, why waste your time with him if you may never get married?”

Like always, she just shrugged. There was no use in arguing as her parents weren’t going to listen to reason. They were those good Christians that the 80s were known for. And like good Christians of the time, rock music was what the devil listened to and Ronald Reagan was the ideal president. Why not? Y/n didn’t care much for politics, so she never cared to understand what was so great about the president. Rock, on the other hand, was something she cared about but her parents never wanted to hear about.

They had been sucked in on the propaganda about the musical genre that had spread around the neighborhood. Anything of the genre was outlawed in her house, which was alright with her. She was limited when around them and anyone else her parents associated with, but she still had freedom outside of the house. As much as her parents wanted to create a safe enviorment like the pastor in Footloose, it wasn’t going to happen. Whether they liked it or not, she listened to the Devil’s music more than she listened to God’s words. 

But what really hurt wasn’t that she couldn’t enjoy herself at home and do as she pleased, it was that anything remotely related to that dreadful music wasn’t good enough for her parents. Y/n didn’t care if they liked the same music she did or called her favorite artists and bands Satanist, what she cared about was that they wouldn’t even given the man she loved a chance.

Y/n groaned, sucking in a deep breath. “Who said I want to get married? And that’s not even close to what I was talking about.”

“Than what were you talking about, dear?” her father asked, hiding behind a newspaper. 

“I just wanted to know if Saul could come over for dinner or something like that. You know, so I don’t have to hear any more about how he’s not good enough for me from the two of you when you haven’t even met him.”

“I’ll think about.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing herself off the counter. “You do that, dad, you do that.”

*~~*~~*

Saul rocked on his heels nervously, waiting for the door to open. He had been excited to meet Y/n’s parents, after all, his parents were head over heels in love with her. They wanted to be around her more than him, which stung a little. But, damn, it was better than them hating her. After a few seconds, the door opened, exposing an older woman that Saul assumed to be Y/n’s mother.

Opening the door all the way, the woman smiled, “You must be Saul.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do come it.” She moved out of the way to let him in. “Y/n will be out in a minute. Why don’t we take a seat in the living room.”

It was odd how formal the woman was, but at least she was kind. Her smile didn’t meet her eyes, but how many smiles really did? Y/n didn’t talk about her parents often, but when she did nothing good was said. From what he’d gathered, they were people pleasers and one with the crowd. But, some people were like that, society bred people that way and it took too much strength for some to break away from the crowd. 

Stepping into the living, the guitarist glanced over the photos and paintings that dawned the wall. Pictures of Y/n as a small child among her family on vacations, Christmas, and school events. Even if she complained, at least her parents were present. Saul let out a small sigh as he made his way over to the couch, pillows and a blanket strategically placed. He could hear what he thought sounded like a knife hitting a cutting board and feet hitting stairs. Not even a few seconds pasted before Y/n walked into the living room, a huge smile upon her face.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said with a smile, embracing him before looking over his apparel. “And I’m so glad you finally figured out how to dress nicely.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “My mother happened to teach me how to do that, I’ll have you know.”

Y/n glanced behind her to see her mom walk off to the kitchen. Turning to her boyfriend, she let her shoulders relax. Around Saul, she didn’t have to be the good girl her parents wanted her to be. Around him, it seemed that anything and everything was possible. There were no cookie cutters or boxes that she couldn’t think outside of. The world was her’s to conquer with him by her side and she hoped, she prayed to god, that her parents would see that he was more than just some drugged-up rock star.

“She didn’t give you a hard time, did she?”

Saul shook his head, giving her a small smile. “She was actually really polite. You made her out to sound like she tears heads off of children.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. Her mother, tear of heads, not a chance. “She would never do such a thing, not with god watching. And I don’t know why I expected less from her. She’s a saint, I’ll have you know.”

“Then I’m sure my mother will love her. They can discuss saintly things over tea,” he joked, running a hand through his hair, which he through into a neat ponytail. 

“My mom doesn’t like tea.”

“Coffee then.”

Before any more could be discussed on what the potential meeting of their mothers, Y/n’s mom poked her head into the room, her presence silencing their conversation. 

“Dinner’s ready if you two will head to the table.”

*~~*~~*

With food piled on their plates, everyone was silent. Y/n munched on her green beans, trying to pretend she couldn’t feel the tension that filled the air. Saul seemed unfazed, but Y/n knew better than to believe that. He played cool whether he was internally or not. That was how he went through life. He’s acting skills were amazing whether he knew he possed them or not.

“Y/n tells me your a musician,” her father stated, picking through his salad.

“Yeah, I am,” he confirmed.

Her father shook his head, disappointment written all over it. She knew he was hoping for a different answer. “I hear there isn’t much money in that. Have you considered any other career options?”

Y/n let out a sigh, wishing the world would just swallow her whole. It was no surprise to her that this conversation would come up, but she wished it didn’t matter. The average blue-collar job isn’t for everyone, her father should have known that. Her grandfather was a member of the circus for years. Of course, no one talked about it because it wasn’t an acceptable job in their minds, it still paid the bills.  

Placing his silverware on the table, Saul thought for a moment before looking the man in the eye. “Well, I have thought of other career options but I have no passion for them. I know, without a doubt, that music will never be boring to me. Plumbing or accounting or anything else, sure I may make more money doing that, but how long until I get bored? And to be honest, sir, money means nothing to me. It may buy you fancy things, but it really can’t buy happiness, that’s found in the heart.”

Y/n’s father was speechless, but not angry like Y/n and her mother thought he would be. His eyes seemed to light up right before his lips tugged into a smile. “That is a better answer than I gave your father,” he turned to his wife, shaking his head. If only he was smart enough to think of an answer like that.

Y/n couldn’t help but smile with him as she realized that Saul was at least acceptable in her father’s eyes. Her mother, well… she would eventually see the same thing Y/n did. But at least there was no fear of them not approving of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Followed

Summary: Could you do an imagine where reader is slash’s gf and she goes home, and is followed by some “weird junkie”, but as she comes home and sees Slash he tells her that the weird junkie is actually Izzy but never meet him so she didn’t know.

Requested: yes by anon

Warnings: being followed

Y/N was more than a little happy to finally get off of work. It had been a long day, and to say that her bed was calling her name was an understatement. She locked the stores front door and started in the direction of the house that she shared with her boyfriend Saul. She had been with him for a little while and had met most of his bandmates, but there was still one person that he hadn't met.

Y/N pulled the jacket in closer around her as the cool air brushed past her. She looked around her, feeling like she was being watched. Her eyes landed on someone a few feet behind her. His eyes were looking her over as he lit his cigarette.

She shrugged it off. This was a pretty busy area of the city at night with a few bars nearby. She thought that maybe he was just out getting some air after getting buzzed.

It wasn’t until a few blocks down that she realized that he was still behind her. It was still a few feet back, but still close enough for Y/N to know that he was there and that he was following her. She picked up her pace, praying that her neighbors were home at the very least.

She tried to keep her cool and not panic, but the closer she got to her house the more she could feel the guy following after her. She picked up her pace, trying to get to her house safely. She could hear her mom nagging at her that she should take self-defense classes. Needless to say, Y/N was regretting the decision to put it off.

As she ran up the porch steps, she fumbled with her keys and kept looking over her shoulder the guy was getting closer now and seemed to have a smirk on his face as if he was finding enjoyment in her fear. She pushed the door open and slammed it shut behind her as she panted.

“Y/N!” Saul called out from the living room. “What’s wrong?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to see him walking up to her with his hands held up. “There’s a man out there following me,” she said, pointing to the door. “He followed me here from where I work.”

Saul reached out and grabbed her shoulders. “Alright. Just breathe. I’ll go see who it is, and do whatever I need to do,” he said. He kissed her forehead before heading out the door.

A few minutes later, Saul stepped back into the house with the guy that had followed her. “Y/N, this is my bandmate Izzy,” he said.

“Hey, didn’t mean to freak you out,” the dark-haired guy said.

Y/N stared between the two and felt like crying. She felt like she was being stalked and it was just her boyfriend’s bandmate. Hell, she felt like throwing something at the two of them and screaming. “And you didn’t feel the need to introduce yourself to me?” she asked.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you were his girl or not,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But if it will make you feel better, you can get me back for it.”

Y/N glared at him, thinking she may do just that.

He is just so hot

Bad day | Slash

Description: You are having a bad day at work and you got back home to find Slash making you a little surprise to relax.

Warning: I wrote this on my phone so there will maybe be some mistakes, fluff at beggining and end, smut in the middle, unprotected sex (Always use protection!), fingering.

Request: No.

Enjoy

Opening door of flat that I shared with my boyfrend I feelt even more tired than I was before, work was living hell today and my boss gave me double work today than usual and all I wanted is to relax.

I took off my coat and heels, I started walking towards livingroom to find Slash but he wasn't there, furowing my brows I turned around and I was about to start walking towards our bedroom when I saw him, lazy smile appered on my face "Hey, are you okey" he asked with concern all over his face "Yeah I am just tired, I had lots of work today" he opened his arms "Come here" and in seconds I was in his arms "This is what I needed" I smiled "I made you a warm bath" I moved my head so I could look at his chocolate eyes "You didn't have to" he placed one quick kiss on my lips "But I wanted to" he let go of me and he took my hand in his large one and started leading me to bathroom.

He opened the door for me and I stepped in "Call me if you need anything" I turned to look at him "What you are not joining me?" I asked "I throught that you want to relax" he said while steppinf in "Well I want to relax with you" I turned around and took my dress of, I turned to look at him accros my shoulder while unclipsing my bra, he was taking his shirt off and than his pants, I took my panties off and stepped in the bath.

After couple seconds I feelt him behind me, he started massaging my back and I moaned in pleasure "You have so soft hands" I said while leaning in his touch, I feelt his soft lips on my neck he kissed down my neck to my shoulder, I felt his heands leaving my back and one cupping my breast while other was drawing circles on my legs and stomach "Saul please" I begged "I love when you use my name love" and with that his hand found my clit and he started rubbing it slowly, I moaned while trowing my head back on his shoulder giving him enough space to start kissing my neck, the sensation was so high, his lips and tongue on my nech, hand on my breast and other on my clit and I feelt my orgasm building "I'm getting close" I told him while gripping his hand that was in my breast, "oh my god don't stop I'm about to cum" I closed my eyes so hard that I started seeing white "Let it go love, cum" and with that my whole body feelt electicity and I came on his hand.

He kissed my cheek "I hope that this worked and that you relaxed a bit" I nooded my head still not trusting my voice "come on let's go to bed" he was about to stand up when my heand stopped him "What about you?" I asked while my hand reached to grab his dick he inhaled sharp "It doesn't metter you need rest" he said while closing his eyes "Well your body is saying different" I said before kissing his jewline and down his neck, soft moan left his lips and I feelt myself getting wet again "Would you mind me rideing you this time?" He shook his head, I slowly moved to sit on his lap, I placed the tip of his dick at my enterence and I started slowly going down, we both moaned from pleasure, when he was all in my I stayed still for couple seconds before I started moving, he trowed his head back giving me space so I could kiss and suck on his skin, he moaned a little louder this time and hearing him moan like that sent wave through me "You feel so - ah - so good"  he placed his heands on my hips and he started moving me faster, I moaned against his neck and I feelt that sweet thing between my legs building again, I moved my head to look at him "I'm close again" I moaned "I know, I can feel it" he said before kissing my lips passionatlely.

After couple more trusts I came again, moaning in his mouth, he didn't stop moving, he broke kiss and his lips made a perfect "O" shape "Are you close?" I asked while going up and down meeting his hips "Yes" was all he said before putting his head on my shoulder hugging me, it took him couple more trust before he came moaning into my shoulder.

I moved my heand to his hair, I kissed his head before he moved it to look at me, he placed both of his hands on each side of my face before kissing me, "I love you" he said against my lips when the kiss ended, now come on let's go to bed, he said before moving me and getting out of bath he placed towel around his waist and he walked towards me putring other towel around my shoulders, he took my heand leading me towards our bedroom.

He gave me clean shirt and panties to put on, I got dressed and made myself warm in bed, after couple minutes he joined me, I turned towards him, I was looking at his eyes, lips and his perfect face, I moved my heand and placed it on his cheek "You are so beautiful" he smiled at me "Not as beautiful as the think infront of me" he took my heand and kissed it I moved closer so I could kiss his lips lightly, I broke kiss after couple seconds, I moved even closer so I could hug him and cuddle up against him.

"Good night sweetheart" he said while kissing my head "Good night love"

Memories (Slash x reader)

Requested:

AHHH okay, so gnr ok. How about a Slash fic, where it's like super duper fluffy and he slow dances with you? i hope you like this ideaaaa, thank u x @eatmyshiftsticky

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST! OR GO TO MY BIO TO ADD YOURSELF TO ONE!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

SONG THE TITLE IS BASED OFF OF:

Memories

////

You smile to yourself as you stare out into the country side. The beautiful hills look like they go on for miles. The summer breeze can be felt going through your hair.

You and Slash just recently settled on this old colonial house in the middle of nowhere.

His days of touring with Guns N' Roses is over. He wanted to settle in something stable in a place that's calming. Your family owned this house for generations, but only visited it to make sure it didn't go into disrepair.

As you stare off into space, your mind wanders into your memories.

The night Slash asked you to marry him was quite possibly the best night of your life. Guns had finally finished Use Your Illusions Pt. 1 and 2. Slash had decided that he'd had enough of Axl's bullshit and wanted to get back into touch with Steven and Izzy.

You had just gotten back to the small apartment you and Slash shared in Los Angeles when he came bursting into the small place.

He took you by surprise by picking you up from behind and spinning around in a circle.

You screamed in surprise, but started to laugh when you realized it was just your dork of a boyfriend. He sat you down, turning you around so that you're facing each other.

"It's time to celebrate!" Slash yelled, taking a ponytail from your wrist. He pulled his hair back so that you could see his face.

"Why's that?" You asked, wrapping your arms around the excited man in front of you.

"I quit the band!"

"You what?" You asked, completely dumbfounded. You thought he loved the band.

"I quit! I can't stand Axl throwing his hissy fits anymore. I came so close to punching him earlier then I just told him I quit. Maybe Steven and Izzy will talk to me again. . ." Slash trailed off.

You sighed. "What about Duff?"

"Oh," Saul laughed. "He quit too."

"So Guns N' Roses is just Axl Rose now?" You laughed.

"Yep. That's what the bastard gets, though," Slash pulled you into a strong embrace. "This is probably the best thing I've done in a while." He pulled away, his beautiful brown eyes lighting up. "Well, second best thing."

"What do you-?"

Before you could finish your question, Saul let go of you completely and was down on one knee. From his pocket he pulled out a blue velvet box. He opened the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond engagement ring. You gasped, tears sprung to your eyes. You covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to stop the tears.

"(Y/N), the last few years with you have been the happiest of my life. You've made me happier than I ever thought I could be. You've been there for me, even when I was shit faced and an absolute dick to you. Not once have you left me over a stupid argument and you've been so understanding. I love you with all of my heart," He said, taking a breath. "With that being said, will you make me the happiest man on Earth and marry me?"

You didn't even have to think about your answer. "Of course!"

With that he got up from the ground and kissed you passionately.

You're pulled out of the sweet memory when you hear Saul calling your name. You don't move. You know he'll find you eventually.

You hear the back door opening. Then the heavy footsteps of the man you love.

Your view of the country was blocked by a head with wild, curly black hair and a top hat on his head. You can't see his eyes because of the round framed sunglasses he has on.

"Hello, beautiful," Saul says happily.

You giggle, reaching forward to tug on the ends of his hair. "Hey, sexy."

He grins at you, just enjoying the view of you. "Okay," Slash says. "Get up."

"Why?" You whine. You're perfectly comfortable in the rocking chair.

"Because I wanna do something."

"Saul."

"Please?"

"Fine."

You get up, your hand locked with Slash's. He pulls you down the porch steps and onto the grass. He pulls you in closely, one hand on your waist and the other interlaced with your hand. You put your free hand on his shoulder, allowing him to lead you in a dance without music. You don't find this odd. He actually does this a lot. You'll just be sitting on the couch and he'll pull you up to slow dance.

He hums an unfamiliar tune in your ear.

"I love you," He says. You can see the grin on his face. "Happy ten year, babe."

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Slash: @daisystuffsstuff @jayprettymuchomw

Birthday boy

Pairing: Slash / Saul Hudson x reader

Info: Smut [oral on male] and fluff; 1906 words;

Summary: Y/N gives Slash a little gift on the morning of his birthday, but it turns out that Slash had a much bigger gift hidden. One that they could both enjoy, for a really long time…

A/N: Hey loves <3 A little birthday piece for our boy Slash. I regret not writing these pieces for the other boys (and I blame my brain for only coming up with an idea to celebrate AFD’s birthday only at the end of the day when I could no longer write…) but, hopefully, Guns N’ Roses will be a fandom where I stay active for a long time, so I will be here to write the boys their well-deserved fics. 

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Impossible

Pairing: Slash x Reader

A/N: Slash as a dad aka the cutest shit ever

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Masterlist

Updated again!

High School AU Guns N’Roses x Reader

Slash-Most Likely To

Duff-Deadline

Past Deadline

Izzy-Fire series

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Reptiles & Rogues Izzy Stradlin x reader series

Loaded Like a Freight Train (Part 1)

The Accidental Florist (Part 2)

Lizards and Longing (Part 3)

Thistles, Roses, and Thorns (part 4)

Cold-blooded Cuddles and the Bastard of Inconvenient Timing (Part 5)

Shameless Susan and the Troubadour Straddlin’ Situation (Part 6)

Thinking About You (Part 7)

The Unspoken Word (Part 8)

Floor A Izzy Stradlin x reader series

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

The Top Hat Cafe Izzy Stradlin x reader/Guns N’ Roses coffeehouse AU series

“Coping Mechanisms” (Part 1)

Stroking Out (Part 2)

Epiphanies in the Land of Broken Dreams (Part 3)

The Important Questions (Part 4)

Over the Edge (Part 5)

Revelations, Inspired Rain, and A Hard-core Troubadour (Part 6)

I’m On Fire (Part 7)

Hey Jealousy (Part 8)

Bathing Beauties Izzy Stradlin fic

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Uncle Izzy Companion fic to It’s So Easy

Uncle Izzy

Uncle Izzy: You Could Be Mine

The Truth About Books and Dogs Izzy Stradlin x librarian reader

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

Updated finally!

High School AU Guns N’Roses x Reader

Slash-Most Likely To

Duff-Deadline

Past Deadline

Izzy-Fire series

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Reptiles & Rogues Izzy Stradlin x reader series

Loaded Like a Freight Train (Part 1)

The Accidental Florist (Part 2)

Lizards and Longing (Part 3)

Thistles, Roses, and Thorns (part 4)

Cold-blooded Cuddles and the Bastard of Inconvenient Timing (Part 5)

Shameless Susan and the Troubadour Straddlin’ Situation (Part 6)

Thinking About You (Part 7)

The Unspoken Word (Part 8)

Floor A Izzy Stradlin x reader series

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

The Top Hat Cafe Izzy Stradlin x reader/Guns N’ Roses coffeehouse AU series

“Coping Mechanisms” (Part 1)

Stroking Out (Part 2)

Epiphanies in the Land of Broken Dreams (Part 3)

The Important Questions (Part 4)

Over the Edge (Part 5)

Revelations, Inspired Rain, and A Hard-core Troubadour (Part 6)

I’m On Fire (Part 7)

Hey Jealousy (Part 8)

It’s a Nice Day to……Start Again (Part 9)

Bathing Beauties Izzy Stradlin fic

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Uncle Izzy Companion fic to It’s So Easy

Uncle Izzy

Uncle Izzy: You Could Be Mine

The Truth About Books and Dogs Izzy Stradlin x librarian reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Green Izzy Stradlin x neighbor reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Rocket Queen

Pairing: Slash / Saul Hudson x reader

Info: Smut; 3568 words;

Summary: Axl decides that Rocket Queen is missing something, so he turns to Y/N and Slash for help.

A/N: Hey angels. New fic for you guys while I work on the requests <3 I’m still deeply sorry for taking so long. Anyways, enjoy it <3

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Little Rose Ch. 2

Warnings: Arguments, slight/implied smut, alochol, angst at the end, fluff at some parts. A/n: A lot of stuff is off from when it happened, sue me. It is a fanfiction so thing aren’t extactly to the timeline. Like events between mandy and duff. No hate towards Mandy! I have nothing against her. Again sorry for making Duff such an ass, it’s just  for the plot. love our sweet boy. Suprise apperances, you’ll know ;) enjoy babes!!

A couple days later, I finally peeled myself off the bathroom floor. Slash had laid with me the first night, but had a date last night. 

“Y/n, what happened? You’ve not been at work”, Slash asked me, after finding me on the floor. “Oh hi Slash, just depressed is all. Stupid boy stuff”, I sighed, slighty moving my head towards him. 

“What happened? I’m a boy”, Slash laid next to me. “No, its dumb”

“Y/n, tell me or I’ll call Axl on you”, Slash said. “Okay” I sighed.

I had told him what happened between Izzy, Duff and I, even my feelings for Duff. He let me cry and say what I needed to say or felt like saying. Threatened to kick Duff’s ass, I told him it wouldn’t fix anything, but appreciated the gesture. Slash accidentally let it slip that Duff had a girlfriend, she was in a band, blond, sorta my height. At least he listened to me. I grinned. “Y/n, are you okay?”, Axl busted in and ran over to me. “Yeah, I am now. Thanks to Slash”, I said grabbing my purse. “You’re not sick”, Axl held his hand on my forehead. “No Ax, I got into a depression rut is all. I miss my boys so can I come back to work?”, I asked. “Of course, I need your opinion on songs”, Axl kissed my cheek. “Race ya to the cars”, I nudged him. I won and won racing to work. “Did you cut me off?”, Axl asked. “No, it’s called winning”, I scoffed. 

“Izzy came up with the name, but I don’t know if it would fit my lyrics”, Axl was explaining a song when we walked into the studio. Steven, Slash, Izzy were sitting on the couch, smoking away. “Janie, you’re back!”, Steven ran to me. “Yeah, I’m back Stevie.” I let go of him and sat on the arm of the couch, next to Izzy. He looked up at me and patted my knee. Silently letting me know he was sorry and missed me. I smiled back at him. The door opened, making us look. It was Duff and I assume his girlfriend, they were making out. “Duff, it’s time to work now”, Axl grumbled. My heart broke into a million pieces seeing him. Izzy sensed it and looked at me, “You were right”, I mumbled for Izzy to hear. “Don’t matter, Janie. You okay?”, Izzy asked. “Why wouldn’t I be”, I sighed. Duff and his girlfriend walked in, “Hey Duff, who’s this?”, the blond asked. “Oh, this is Janie, Axl’s little sister and our assistant”, Duff said, tuning his bass. “Hi, I’m Mandy”, Mandy stuck her hand out. “Uh yeah, hi. Axl, you want your tea now or later”, I brushed her off. Probably gonna be another chick tomorrow to be honest, why get friendly with her.  Axl was gonna say something but Duff cut him off, “Janie, she was talking to you.” “I know and?”, I snickered from my place next to Izzy. “And? Have some manners, Christ sakes”, Duff said hateful. “First off, leave my sister alone and get in the booth. Janie, I’ll take my tea now”, Axl finally said something. “Sure thing, Axl”, I smirked. Duff rolled his eyes and shook his head.  Before lunch, Mandy told Duff she had to go record with her band across town. “Okay, 10 minute break guys”, Axl stretched his back. The rest of them went out, but Duff stayed behind. Obviously, why he did. “What the fuck?”, Duff said as the door shut. “Excuse me?”, I asked. “Why were you so fucking rude to Mandy? She was just being nice, you’re the only one who hasn’t met her yet.”, Duff huffed. “Why does my approval matter, huh? I’m your assistant, I just grab your lunch and follow your orders. It’s not your decision if I like your girlfriend even Axl’s. Just get the fuck out of my face before yours ended up through the booth glass, okay? I don’t owe you shit, you broke my heart, bastard!”, I yelled. “You won’t do it, Rose”, Duff got into my face. “Get the fuck away from my baby sister or I’ll fucking bash your head into the glass personally!”, Axl yelled. 

“Whatever, I’m out of here”, Duff pushed by the guys. “And stay the fuck out!”, Axl yelled. “Janie, you okay? He didn’t touch you did he?”, Axl turned to me like a mother hen. “I’m okay, just a misunderstanding”, I said staring at the door. Axl took his fingers to my chin, he was studying my face. “Janie, come with me”, Izzy said. Axl let me go. “You two talked about the other night?”izzy asked, handing me a cigarette. “Not exactly. He confronted me about how I acted towards Mandy. Like I’m gonna be buddy buddy with your new whore.”, I scoffed. “You’re not wrong, she’s not my favorite person”, Iz grumbled. “I wasn’t rude to her right, Izzy”, I asked. “Different circumstances, yes you were. But, he’s doing this to make you jealous”, Izzy said holding my hand. “Thanks, Iz”, I blew out smoke. “Anytime, kid”, Izzy flicked his cigarette ash. “I’m sorry about the other night. I don’t want you to fuck off, you’re my brother, I love you”, I laid my head on his shoulder. “I know you don’t. Don’t get all warm and gooey, I’ll ash my cigarette on that big ass forehead of yours.”, Izzy smirked. “You could sell  Wyoming on yours”, I winked at him. “Sit on it, Janie”, Izzy rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Fonzie”, I hopped off the milk crates. “You’re definitely Potsy, kid”, Izzy grinned. “Keith Richards called his wants his style back, Isbell”, I opened the door. Izzy would kill me one day for sure, but then would probably break down from realization.

“You okay?”, Slash asked, grabbing my hand. “For now, if I’m gonna lay on my bathroom floor, I’ll call you”, I smiled at me. “Please do”, Slash said seriously.  “Thanks, Slash”, I kissed his cheek. 

The phone rang, “Hello?”, I answered it. 

“Hey Janie, wanna come to a bar with us?”, Kelly asked. 

“Hi Kells, sure why not. Do you want me to drive or what?”, I grinned. Traci still kept in contact with Axl, Izzy and me, I met his new band. Kelly and I hit it off pretty well at the Whiskey Go-Go. “I’ll come get you, babe”, Kelly said.

“Okay, be careful”, I grinned, already planning my outfit. I stepped out of my room and saw Kelly perched on my couch’s arm. “Goddamn, you look smokin, baby Rose” “Thanks, Kelly. It was my intention to be smokin tonight”, I grinned, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Who you after? Word on the street is that you and Duff quit fucking”, Kelly opened my door, to let me out. “Who told you?”, I asked. “Duff”, Kelly whispered. “Fucking course he would do that. What am I a whore or what?”I asked, getting curious to what that fucker was saying about me. “Just said you went all crazy and kicked him out. Told him to find a groupie and hoped she gave him crabs”, Kelly said as we pulled up to the bar. “I said herpes, not crabs. What’s the word on Mandy? His new chick”, I asked wanting to be nosey and use it for blackmail.  “She’s in an all girl band, singer, they met after a show at the Starwood. You’re way way hotter than her by the way”, Kelly said, holding the door for me. “You’re really flirty tonight, Kells”, I smirked. We sat with the band after, getting drinks. “Ah ello, Janie”, Phil smirked. “Hi Phil”, I sat down between Kelly and Traci. “Hey kid, how are you?”, Traci pulled me into his side for a hug. “Been better, Trac. You?”, I asked. “Heyy Duff! Didn’t expect you here”, I heard a dude yell. There he was, standing at the bar in all leather, hair teased in a messy punk manner, he looked good, besides her perched on his arm. “Janie”, I slightly heard Traci call out my name. He had probably heard what happened between Duff and I. I stood up and pulled Kelly to the bar with me, “Can you act like you’re trying to fuck just long enough for me to be petty?” “I don’t have to act, babe. Tell me what to do? I won’t push you too far, okay?”, Kelly rubbed my wrist. “Okay, Kelly and be rough as you want and follow my league”, I smirked. Duff and Mandy were sitting at the bar, chatting. “Hey Joe, two beers please?”, I brushed Duff’s back as I leaned to the bar. Kelly wedged himself to my back side, trailing his hand on my hips. He tried to unlace my leather pants, “Kelly, not now”, I squealed. You could tell Duff was trying to ignore us, but couldn’t. “Here you go, Janie. Tell your brother I said hi”, Joe smiled handing Kelly and I our beer. “Thanks, Joe I will”, I said. 

“Come dance with me, they’re dancing”, Kelly whispered in my ear.

“Perfect”, I smirked at the opportunity to make Duff’s skin crawl.

Kelly pulled me towards his crotch, “Be slutty as you can be”

“Sure thing, Cowboy”, I smirked and rubbed my body down his. Kelly was grinding himself on me, I nudged back, he kissed my neck. Duff had moved himself and Mandy closer to us. Kelly noticed and grabbed my boob, “Sorry”, He whispered loud enough for me to hear. I moaned out as he started attacking my neck. Kelly had his head burying my neck, kissing my neck and ran his hand down my thigh. He was really playing his part, give him that. “Be louder” I opened my eyes and caught Duff’s hazel one, looking into my blue ones. He was fuming.  Kelly bit down on my neck, making me moan his name, “Mhmm, Kelly” Duff grabbed Mandy and left. Kelly was still on my neck, I wanted to tell him the show was over, but he felt so good. “Hey Kells, he left already but wanna come back to my place?”I asked, grabbing his hand off my hip. “Fuck yes. I know you were just doing it to piss Duff off, but damn we got too into”, Kelly whined, pointing at his dick. “I’m sorry, Kelly. Come on, you need some help”, I pulled him to his car. Kelly got in and I went to his pants, “Mhm, what about your brother? He’ll kill me if he finds out”, Kelly said with a look of fear in his eyes. “Duff and I had been fucking for almost two years and the motherfucker still doesn’t know.”, I said. “Okay then, continue”, Kelly said sliding his pants and underwear down to where I could reach him. “Fuck”, Kelly threw his head back groaning.

 He pulled up to my apartment, “Damn, you’re really good at head” “Thanks”, I smirked. It was morning, I woke up, “Who the hell? Oh It’s Kelly”, I rolled over. “Yeah, it’s me”, Kelly smirked. It was 8:15 am, I was due at the studio at 10. “Hey, uhm I gotta be at the studio at 10, wanna shower with me?”, I asked. “Sure”, Kelly picked me up in bridal style. Izzy watched me pull up, “What the fuck did you do last night?” “Went to a bar with Kelly, seen Traci. Why am I late?” I asked, stealing his cigarette. “No but you smell like booze and shame sex”, Izzy dead panned. “It wasn’t shameful sex”, I rolled my eyes. “Was  it with Duff?”, Izzy asked as we walked back in. “No”, I said. “Who?”, Izzy asked again. “Don’t get mad or even tell Axl okay?”, I looked up at him. He nodded. “Kelly”, I breathed out. “Okay, at least it wasn’t a random fuck. Did he wear?”, Izzy smirked. “No, I’m on the pill nosey ass”, I punched his arm. 

Izzy, Slash were in the booth. Axl was talking to the press about something, Steven was in the booth with them. Duff and I were sitting down, and the room was fueled by tension.  “Why did you tease me last night?”, Duff spoke up. “What are you talking about?”, I rolled my eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Janie. That’s not the first time you’ve teased me at a bar with another guy”, Duff said, staring at me. “Why did you leave after, you heard me moan?”, I shot back. Duff was quiet. “What I thought, McKagan”, I smirked as Axl walked in. “God, I hate the press at times” “Who are you supposedly banging now?”, I asked Axl. “Every supermodel in North America, any groupie”, Axl smirked. “You still have great posture after fucking those girls”, I grinned at him. “Thanks sis, it’s a secret talent of mine. Duff it’s your turn”, Axl said sitting next to me by the panel. “You do anything last?”, Axl looked at me. “Uh, Kelly picked me up and wanted to go drink. I saw and talked to Traci. He wanted me to tell you hi”, I said, marking a list of things that had been done. “Nice, glad you had fun”, Axl patted my knee. “You busy tonight, Ax?”, I asked. “Probably gonna watch a horror movie later tonight. Why do you wanna join?”, Ax asked. “Yeah, I do. Miss us”, I smiled. “Miss us too, kid”, Axl smiled. He always tried to make time for us to hang out besides work. 

I was walking to my car when a hand grabbed my shoulder, “Can we talk?”, It was Duff. “Why so you can go tell people on the strip that I’m whore for kicking out?”, I cut my eyes at him. “I didn’t call you a whore, you’re not either. I was pissed, it was after our argument, I went drinking and a few guys were around.”, Duff said. “A few guys that happen to have been in the band. Traci and Kelly told me all about what you said. If I’m whore then you’re just a lawful player that used me as another notch on his belt.”, I looked up at him. “Janie, I’m sorry for talking about you like that, I’m sorry for being a dick the past two days. I didn’t mean it”, Duff whined. “Fine. As for now, I’m just your assistant, so don’t talk to me unless you need me to get you lunch or something okay? Cause I’m done with you as a friend and a sleeping buddy, so go home to Mandy and leave alone”, I patted his shoulder. “Janie” “No no, I’m serious. Now goodnight, Mr. McKagan”, I said, getting in my car and heading to Axl’s. I looked in the mirror, he was standing there, flabbergasted as I drove away. Maybe I was too harsh on him, but fuck him, he broke my heart. 

Grocery shopping is one of the things I hated about adulting, but it had to be done.  I was in the frozen section, looking at my list. “Janie?”, I looked up to see Mandy. “Oh hi, Mandy”, I smiled. “Just shopping and noticed you was all.”, She smiled. “Right? Huh, listen. I’m sorry for how I acted towards you, the first time I met you. Duff and I had a fight and I was mad at him. I’m sure you’re a nice girl and I’m sorry being a straight up bitch that day.”, I finally got it off my chest. “It’s okay, we’ve all been petty towards another girl before. He told me what happened between you guys. All is forgiven”, Mandy grabbed my hand and smiled. “Yeah, but it wasn’t right. It was between me and him. Uh, enjoy your shopping”, I looked down. “Thanks, you too. It was nice talking to you Janie, see ya later.” Mandy smiled before walking away. “You too”, I mumbled, looking around for Duff to be laughing with her as they were doing it just to make me the fool. No blond in sight. 

Next few weeks, the boys were planning their town for this year. They finished their EP weeks ago, I was proud of them. I was sitting next to their producer at the panel, the door opened and the boys walked in. “Hey guys”, I smiled. Various ‘Heys’ responded back. “Can’t wait for you to see this tour, Janie. It’s so kickass”, Slash pulled me into a hug. “Kickass is very you guys”, I giggled in his arms as the door opened. Mandy stood.

“Hey babe, what are you doing here?”Duff brushed pass us.

“Are you free for lunch?”she asked, twirling something on her finger. “Of course, I was just getting my bass I left here. Oh almost forgot! Hey guys, Janie come here.”, He grinned pulling her to his side. We all stood, Slash still held me at his side. “What Duff?”, Izzy mumbled. “We’re getting married”, Duff said, bringing Mandy’s hand towards us. A circle cut diamond adorned her finger. “Good for you guys. I’m happy for you Duff”, Axl pulled him into a hug. The guys told them congrats and they were proud of him for being a man. “Janie?”, Mandy asked. My chest heaved, I pushed Duff out of my way as I ran down the hall. “What’s with her?” Axl asked as I cut a corner. “I’ll go find her”, Izzy said, taking off. I tried to run but my legs gave out on me, Izzy caught me. I started bawling, my whole world was tumbling down, he wasn’t gonna be mine anymore. “Shhsh”, Izzy rocked me in his chest.