Ten Seconds to Paradise City (Mötley Crüe and Guns N' Roses one shots)

You're Precious to Me - Izzy Stradlin

A/N: (Fluff) Izzy x fem reader

"Shh, we can't wake my roommates," you somewhat slurred to Izzy who trailed behind you through the front door of your apartment.

He nodded and stayed quiet, latching onto your hand for guidance.

You waded through the front room, practically stumbling every few seconds. Sneaking around in the dark was a lot more difficult when you were a step shy of being blackout drunk, you realized.

"Shit," you almost tripped over the coffee table, but Izzy caught you.

"Nice one," he quipped

"Shh."

You walked past the digital clock on the kitchen counter, 3:00 am, it read in glowing red numbers. You hadn't intended on staying out that late, but after dating Izzy for a month and a half, you learned that intention and reality hardly matched when you were brought along to his band's "festivities" — parties, concerts, more parties — all in the name of trying to establish their presence on the strip. But you honestly didn't mind; you'd go anywhere with him. All he had to do was say the word, and you'd be there.

Izzy started to pull you along, already well versed in the layout of your apartment. After all, he had been spending the night a few times a week at your place in an attempt to escape the hell hole apartment he shared with the rest of his band. You didn't mind this either.

You and Izzy walked into your bedroom, but before you both made it to your bed, Izzy tripped over a stack of books you were in the middle of organizing earlier in the day. Probably should have picked those up.

You were unfortunately unable to catch him the way he caught you a few minutes prior and you both ended up biting the dust — Izzy on the floor, you on top of him.

"Ow," he quietly whined, then pulled out a book from underneath him and threw it at the corner.

"Nice one," you mocked.

"Y/n?"

You hummed in response.

"Why was the entire contents of your bookshelf on the floor?"

"I was reorganizing," you explained like it couldn't have been more obvious. Duh.

"Reorganizing... well, that's just lovely." he mumbled sarcastically under his breath.

You lifted your heavy head off his chest, then set it back down, not wanting to get off the floor. You heard a little chuckle escape him.

"Nuh uh, we're not sleeping on the floor again."

Fine. You groaned and reluctantly rolled off of him, frustrated that he was making you get up. The audacity.

"There, now isn't the bed more comfortable?" he tried to make his point once he got you into bed. You snuggled yourself under the fresh linen sheets - the instantaneous feeling of fresh sheets on bare skin enveloped you whole.

You turned to face Izzy, who's face was backlit illuminated by the soft orange glow of your bedside lamp. "I guess," you shrugged.

He smirked and harmlessly rolled his eyes. Your noses were practically touching. "oh, you guess?"

You nodded and stared at him with starry eyes, studying his face.

You remembered the first time you saw that face: the diner on sunset, 9:00 am on a friday morning, sipping on burnt coffee and bonding over slaughter-house five. You spent the rest of that fated morning thinking you had made him up — there was no way people like him existed, you thought. But he was real, and you'd soon learn that wasn't the last time you'd see him either.

"Why're you lookin' at me like that?" he asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I don't know. I just like looking at you." You knew you must've sounded stupid, but you didn't care, blaming your lack of inhibitions on the alcohol that still coursed through your veins.

He smiled at you, returning your gaze. You would've given anything to know what he was thinking in that head of his. "Now you're looking at me funny," you teasingly accused.

He shook his head, still wearing his cute smirk "No I'm not."

"Yeah you are."

He took a deep inhale. "You're precious to me, you know that?" he said softly.

You could feel your cheeks start to catch fire from the warmth of your blush and your chest start to tighten; you hadn't expected him to say that.

Your relationship was still rather new — six weeks wasn't a very long time in the grand scheme of things — it was long enough to know that you both had fun together, you both liked having sex together, and you both had stuff in common, but still not enough time to lock down a label of exclusiveness, or exchange "I love yous."

You buried your face into his chest, trying to hide your blush. "No," you chirped, the sound of your voice muffled.

"Well babe, whether you knew it or not, you are," he added matter of fact.

You slowly lifted your head from his chest and brought your lips to his in a sweet embrace. The taste of cigarette smoke and beer lingered on your lips after you pulled away.

"You're precious to me too."

It was true. He was absolutely precious to you, and whether he knew it or not, you were in deep, under his thumb, and wrapped around his finger. And you preferred to stay that way.