I Lowk Just Realised Since My Last Post Ive No Idea What To Write Next

daddy 🎀

a/n: i sort of rushed this and idk if the smut is good or not...now that ive done a daddy slash fic. subby slash (aka biblically accurate slash) comes next 😈 enjoy ★

warnings: smut, thigh riding, fingering (f receiving), daddy kink, age gap, overstim, praise, aftercare :3

You and London were friends. You were best friends, you knew each other because his dad, Slash, was best friends with your dad, Duff and you had been friends your whole lives. You and London hung out all the time, sometimes at your place with your sisters, Grace, and Mae, other times at his place where you would see Slash.

Slash would always welcome you into his home, and he would comfort you during the few times something made you upset around him. He took care of you. You couldn't deny your crush on Slash, but he was way older, so you tried your best to ignore it.

You were at London's, and you were both in his room watching a movie. This was quite a regular occurance. You would always plan to do something exciting, only to stay in eating take-out and watching movies.

Eventually, he started to get tired, so he turned it off and went to sleep.

Like always, he told you you could sleep in his bed with him or in the guest room. Neither of you minded which. You were both comfortable enough with each other that sharing a bed wasn't weird, and sometimes you both just preferred your own space, and neither of you were afraid to admit that.

Tonight, you were too lazy to go to the guest bedroom, but that became a problem when you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned for hours. So much London had to kick you.

At around 2am, you decided to get up and go downstairs, thinking Slash would be asleep. Even so, you still tried to be quiet going down. You got to the bottom and went towards the living room. The living room didn't have a door, but a doorframe that was maybe slightly bigger than two doors.

All the lights were out, the only light coming from a movie playing in the living room. Slash was awake. You panic internally and decide to turn back and go back upstairs, but Slash had already heard the floorboards creaking.

"Y/N?" He calls out quietly. You shuffle into the room nervously. He looks up at you, seeming unbothered, "what'cha doing up so late?" You mumble, "...couldn't sleep."

He doesn't reply. Instead, he just pats the seat beside him, silently inviting you to watch the rest of the movie with him. You sat down nervously, keeping a distance between you. You both sit silently for a while, just watching the movie. You had been moving slightly closer to him until your shoulders were touching. He noticed, but he didn't say anything at first. He just wrapped an arm around you.

You felt your face heat up. You looked up at him. His focus was on the movie.

Suddenly, you felt a wave of confidence. You didn't care that he was older. You didn't care that he was your best friends dad. You didn't care that he was your dads best friend. You wanted him. More than anything.

You get up from where you were sitting and sit on his lap, facing him. His hands immediately go to your waist. He looks up at you, "what'cha doing, princess?" You felt butterflies in your stomach. It took every ounce of courage in you to keep going and not break down crying from embarrassment.

"please..."

You barely mumble, but it was enough for Slash. His hand slid into your shorts, brushing against your clit through your panties. You gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders slightly. He pulls your shorts and panties down. You lift your hips to help him get them off, and he throws them carelessly on the floor when he does. He spreads his legs slightly so youre sitting on his thigh.

You slowly start grinding against his thigh, digging your nails into his shoulders harder. His hands still on your waist help you grind harder against him. He thrusts his knee up in time with your grinds.

He watches as moans and whimpers spill out of you, "so pretty, just for me," he coos.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, "fuck, feels so good!" You moan. He brings a hand down and starts playing with your clit. Your legs start shaking. He smirks, "gonna be a good girl and cum for daddy?" You moan loudly, "fuck, yes! Oh fuck I'm gonna cum!" He kisses your neck, "yeah? gonna cum for daddy?" He slides two fingers into your needy hole, thrusting them in and out, matching your grinds.

Your back arches, and you moan even louder, "fuck, daddy- hah- I-i can't take it! I'm-i'm gonna cum!" He moves his fingers faster, watching you come completely undone by him, "cum for me baby, show me how much you love it."

Your eyes roll back as you cum, soaking his jeans and babbling random begs and pleas. He keeps rubbing your clit in circles, milking your orgasm, "thats it, good girl." You feel yourself twitching from the overstimulation, "fuck! please, daddy!"

Once you come down from your high, your body relaxes. He pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean, "you taste heavenly, princess." You whine in response. He brings his hand down, flicking your clit every now and then just to hear you whimper or see your body twitch.

After letting you catch your breath, he stands up, keeping a grip on you. Your legs wrap around his waist, and your arms around his neck. He grabs your shorts and panties and carries you up to his bedroom. He throws your panties in the laundry basket and gently lays you down on the bed. "What're you doing?" He looks at you, confused, "I'm taking care of you, darling. What else?" You furrow your eyebrows, "but why?"

He chuckles, "I might be older than you, but I'm no stranger to aftercare, sweetheart," he says as he walks into his en suite bathroom. You hear the tap running, and then it goes silent. He comes back into the room with a damp cloth in his hands. He comes over to you and gently cleans the mess between your legs. You shudder slightly at the coldness.

He slides your shorts back on. You smile tiredly. He pulls the covers around you and kisses your forhead. "You need anything?" You shake your head.

He changes out of his clothes and into boxers and an old t-shirt. He gets into bed beside you. He pulls you close, and you inhale, taking in his scent. Really, he just smelt like the cologne he wore, but you found it intoxicating. You made a mental note to try and steal the t-shirt he was currently wearing before you went home.

You feel yourself getting tired, but then the events of tonight start replaying in your head. How good he made you feel, how warm you felt when he started taking care of you- then you get a gut-wrenching feeling. You were falling for him. Was this bad? Was this wrong? You can't have a relationship with him. Right...? What would people think? What would London think? What would your dad think? You clear your head for now, realising that Slash most likely thought of this as a one-time thing. You close your eyes and slowly drift off.

Take me to church

warnings: angst, brief mentions of sh, homophobia, internalised homophobia, f slur, overall heavy topics. 🥰

a/n: whY AM I WRITING SLAXL 🥲 ts may be the most chronically online thing ive ever done. am i the only one who thinks axl and slash are like mickey and ian and am i also the only one who hates bottom mickey...

i like girls and guys i can say fag go away

enjoy ★

This was the worst thing that could've possibly happened to them. Or at least, that's what Slash thought. Axl and Slash had been secretly dating, but some dickhead soccer player at their school found out and told the entire school. It was bad enough that Slash had long hair, dressed in glam and occasionally painted his nails - he had a 'girlfriend' who was really his best friend who was secretly a lesbian. But now he was out as gay, and out against his will.

It had taken a serious toll on Slash's mental health, so much to the point that he couldn't bring himself to go to school and even took a blade to his skin.

The only thing that seemed good to him was when his mom found out and she was more than accepting. She was having an affair with David Bowie, and while it didn't affect him majorly, it was comforting to know he was accepting too.

As much as it didn't bother Axl, as long as it didn't get back to his parents, seeing how badly it affected the man he loved made him unbelievably angry.

Slash spent as much time as he could ditching class, staying home, or staying with Axl or his 'girlfriend'. Making sure he was never alone in public worked surprisingly well. Nobody came near him when he was with Axl, gay or not, people still avoid a hormonal bipolar teenager.

Of course, he would freak himself out when he he had to walk home. Alone. Axl hadn't been waiting for him at the end of the day like usual, so here Slash was, walking through an alley because it was the quickest way home. It was still light out, and no one was around, so he would be fine. Right?

Wrong.

It was fast. And slow. All at the same time. All it took was one punch for the loud ringing in his ears to start. Someone had grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. Hit. Punch. Shove. Kick. They pulled him up off the ground and shoved him against the wall again.

'Did you really think you'd get away with being a fucking faggot' one of them spat. The word alone hurt, but the way it rolled off his tongue with venom stung. The guy punched him again, he could feel the blood dripping down his face. Slash was more terrified than he'd ever been in his entire life.

They weren't showing any signs of stopping any time soon. Was being gay this wrong? Was he truly a bad person?

He was in unbearable pain. He tried everything he could to push them off, but to no avail.

They were genuinely going to beat him to death. He was going to die. He was actually going to die all because of who he loved. That was all he could think about. His final thoughts. Until the guy was pulled off him.

Slash slowly opened his eyes. Before him was Axl beating the shit out of both guys and screaming at them. "Don't you EVER lay your fucking hands on him ever again, understand!?" He was screaming so loud it actually hurt Slash's ears. But what shocked him most was that both guys looked absolutely terrified, maybe even more than Slash.

They nodded and ran away.

Axl turned to Slash, who had since sunk to the ground sobbing and shaking.

Axl kneeled in front of him, cupping his face. "Let me see, let me see..." Slash tried to pull away. He was ashamed. He couldn't stand up for himself. Axl sighed, "it's okay, you're okay... okay? I'm gonna take you home. They're gone. Okay? You're safe. I promise."

Slash was in a state of shock. He was hyperventilating. He was clearly struggling to breathe. "I- they- I was just - and then - and I- walking - and they - attacked -" Axl shushed him, grabbing his face a little more rough than before.

"Breathe."

They sat in the alley for at least half an hour as Slash tried to come down from his panic attack. Axl stayed with him the entire time, doing and saying everything he could to help him relax. He knew Slash was prone to panic attacks. He also knew he was in a great deal of pain, which he could only imagine were making things worse.

As promised, Axl took Slash home. The pair were now sitting in the bathroom, Axl cleaning the blood from his boyfriend's face.

"Do you think this is wrong?" Slash asks carefully. "What, beating people up for being gay? Course it’s wrong, it's a hate crime - " Axl started, but Slash interrupted.

"Not that. This. Us."

Axl froze.

He slowly looked down at Slash. "Is that a serious question?" Slash nodded. "Everyone thinks so. Maybe they're right." Axl scoffs, "you're not serious, are you fucking serious!?"

He nodded again. "I don't think we should be together." Axl stares at him, "don't... don't say that... don't you fucking say that..." Slash gets up and walks out of the bathroom, stopping in the doorway. "I think you should go. Don't try to call me."

He walks out of the bathroom, leaving Axl standing there completely shocked, hurt, and confused. He leaves Slash's house.

Instead of going home, Axl went to the abandoned house he crashed in when things got particularly difficult at home. While he knew Slash and his mom would always welcome them into their home, he never wanted to worry Slash with the abuse he was enduring at home.

Though, now he felt like he couldn't. Slash had actually broken up with him. When he got 'home', he started breaking everything he could, until he passed out from exhaustion.

Slash walked into his room, crying. He sat down on his bed, reaching for a blade.

i fr just need to lock in and finish the slaxl fic ffs

I love you

a/n: so im starting up the between the lines fandom. there has to be someone out there who fw this movie.

warnings: KISSBOY JEFF, kissyface 🤨🤨🤨, injuries ig, some form of smut although it really isnt

enjoy ★

Harry grabbed Max, having to physically restrain him as he took his anger out on the air, watching the car drive away. Abbie immediately rushed over to David, making sure he was okay. He had blood dripping down his nose. Of course, David tried to play it off as nothing. Like he wasn't bothered. But Max, Harry, and Abbie could clearly see through him. They knew him too well, especially Max.

He still let the three of them help him get home, though.

They had helped him with whatever he needed, then left to get back to work. However, only half an hour after leaving, Max came back. He didn't even bother knocking. He just opened the door to David's apartment. With his key.

"David?" Max calls out, walking into the apartment. He walks into the living room to find him sitting on the couch, staring off into space. He sits down beside him, "David? You with me?" He places a gentle hand on his shoulder. David blinks a few times before turning his head to look at Max, "oh, hi. I didn't hear you come in," he smiles.

Max gives him an unamused look, "cut the shit." David frowns, "what are you talking about?" Max sighs, "stop it. Stop pretending like you're okay, like that didn't bother you, like you aren't hurt!"

"But I'm really not, Max, trust me. It wasn't a big - ow ow ow!" He looks down at his wrist in Max's hand. Max was staring at him with the same unamused look.

"You're screaming in pain after I very gently grabbed your wrist, and you expect me to believe you're okay?"

David stays quiet. Max's eyes soften, "please talk to me? Please - please talk, say something, I'm listening, please?" David finally speaks, "my wrist is killing me... " His voice is barely above a whisper. Max frowns, "why didn't you say so? We would've taken you to the hospital sooner, you know?"

David shakes his head quickly, "no, no, I'm not going to the hospital, Max, I'm fine!" Max sighs, "no, you're not... I mean, for Christ's sake, it looks like your wrist is broken!" David scoffs, "It's not broken -" he's cuts himself off, crying out in pain when Max roughly grabs his wrist. Max gives him that same unamused look, "you were saying?"

David stays quiet, trying his best not to cry, but Max could clearly see the tears that he couldn't stop from falling.

"Woah, hey... I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just -" he pauses and sighs, "I'm worried about you." David sniffles, clutching his wrist in his other hand. Max gently takes his hand, "please, you're hurt. Let me take care of you. Please? I promise I'll be extremely gentle. It's not weak, it's not humiliating, it's normal. Needing help is normal." David stays quiet for a while before nodding. Barely.

After a few hours at the hospital, a doctor tells David that he has a dislocated wrist and manipulates it back into place before applying the splint.

Max drives him back to his apartment and sits him down on the couch. "Do you understand now?"

David looks at him, confused. "You didn't even know your wrist was dislocated. You were fully prepared to go about your day pretending like you were fine, and that most definitely would've resulted in an even more severe injury." Max wraps his arms around David and gently pulls him closer.

"David, there's nothing wrong with asking for help, you know? I'm here for you. We're all here for you. The same way we're all there for each other. We don't want to help you and take care of you because we don't think you're capable of doing it yourself. We want to help you and take care of you when you need it because we care about you. And again, it's not just you. If what happened to you had happened to, say, Harry? We would've offered him all the same help and support we offered you. It's not a way of putting you down or taking pity on you. It's because we care about you and love you. I love you."

David slowly stares up at Max with wide eyes before he can realise what he just blurted out. "What? Wha - um, what, uh, what?"

Max's eyes go wide when he finally realises what he said. He stares ahead of him, almost frozen. The silence in the room is deafening. After what feels like an eternity of silence, David nervously clears his throat, "uh, um, so - so I'm guessing that based on your... reaction right now, that was an accident?" He asks carefully.

Max stays frozen in place, still staring at the wall with wide eyes. David clears his throat again, "and, um, so, I'm guessing because it was an accident... I'm not allowed to say it back?"

Max blinks. He looks down at David, "what...?" David looks around nervously. Max grabs his face, making him look at him. "What did you just say?" David laughs nervously, "w-well technically I didn't actually say it -" Max cuts him off, "David. Say it." The silence returns.

But it doesn't last nearly as long. "I love you." The words are loud and clear to Max, and that's all he needs to pin him down on the couch, closing the gap between them.

After a few moments, he pulls away, resting his forhead on his. "I love you too." David smiles, "really?"

"No." His face drops. Max grins, "I'm joking, of course I do." David hits his arm, "oh you're a real asshole you know that?" Max shuts him up by kissing him again.

Their more sweet, passionate kiss quickly turns into a somewhat heavy makeout session, considering David's wrist was still dislocated until they both fall asleep on the couch.

Ian Malcolm would be the type of guy to sit you in his lap and finger you until you cry while reading his emails, denying you his cock every time you beg for it instead.

"Be a good girl and wait till daddy's done with his work, 'kay sweetheart?"

I'll take care of you

a/n: mightve projected a little in this one 🦈enjoy ★

warnings: i think this counts as fluff?depression, mentions of scars, showering together (no smut)

You and Slash had been dating a while. It wasn't really casual, but it definitely wasn't serious either. Or at least you were both too afraid to admit you wanted a serious relationship. You both knew a lot about each other, but you found it far more meaningful that he knew so much about you than he did.

You had suffered with depression for a while, even before meeting Slash, and it was starting to get worse, and Slash noticed.

He noticed the more obvious things, like the scars on your body, and he noticed the less obvious things, like your growing lack of sleep. It had been a while since you had seen each other, and Slash noticed the change immediately. At first, he thought you just needed time alone, but the more time passed, the more worried he got.

It was 11PM and you weren't even sure what day it was. You had only checked the time because someone was banging on your front door. You got up after a while of hoping they would give up and go away.

You opened the door, and Slash's voice rang through your ears, "where the hell have you -" he cut himself off mid sentence when he saw just how awful you looked. "Baby..?"

You don't bother to look at him. You can't even bring yourself to be nice, "what do you want?" He looks hurt, but he reminds himself that you're sick and need help. He lets himself inside your apartment and closes the door behind him, "I've been so worried about you..."

You shrug. He sighs, "I haven't seen you in at least a month..." You stay quiet and he sighs again.

"When was the last time you ate?" You stay quiet. "Alright...when was the last time you got proper sleep?" You stay quiet still. He takes a step closer to you, "Baby, I'm really worried about you." You look down.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug. For some reason, this makes you break down crying. He holds you tighter, "shhh...It's okay...I'm here," he says softly. He picks you up and carries you into your bathroom. "You think you can take a shower for me?" You sniffle and nod, even though in your head you were repeatedly saying no. He turns the shower on and starts taking off your clothes, making sure to be gentle.

When you're completely naked, he starts taking his own clothes off, knowing you might need some help. He walks you into the shower and lets your hair get wet.

He grabs the shampoo and starts scrubbing your hair with it, rinsing it, then repeating. "Close your eyes, okay? I don't want to get soap in your eyes," he says. You tilt your head back and close your eyes. Even though you had been putting off showering, it was nice having him do this for you. It made you realise just how much he cared about you.

Once he finishes rinsing the soap from your body, he grabs a big towel and wraps it around you, a smaller towel for himself and an even smaller towel for your hair. "Do you feel any better?" You nod, "a little," you mumble. He smiles and walks you into your bedroom. He sits you down on the bed and goes over to your dresser, grabbing clean underwear and a t-shirt (which happened to be one of his).

He helps you dry off and get dressed, then he grabs a brush and starts brushing your wet hair out. "Do you want me to dry it?" You shake your head. "Do you want to dry it?" You shake your hear again. He rests his chin on your shoulder, "are you sure? You could get sick..." You lean into him, "I do it all the time. I'll be fine," he kisses your cheek and looks at the clock. 12AM. "You need to get some sleep," he says softly.

You want to protest. You hadn't been able to sleep in so long. But you knew he wouldn't take no for an answer, and you also knew it would be easier with him there.

He helps you into bed and pulls the blanket up around you. He cleans up your room a little, then drys himself off and pulls on some clean sweatpants he found in your drawer. They were his. He chuckles softly and crawls into bed beside you.

He could tell you were starting to overthink, and he also knew that you were still struggling. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, "don't worry about anything right now, sweetheart," he whispers in your ear. You were slowly starting to fall asleep. You were right. It was easier in his arms. He made you feel loved, and he made you feel safe.

"Just get some rest, I'll take care of you."

hello so im making a gc on snap for rock/metal fans and people should join msg me 😛

are u still alive??😭😭

naw 😞

ill start writing again soon i swear 🧍🏻‍♂️

It's my 2 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

IVE HAD THIS ACC FOR TWO YEARS....??????

oh im gonna peg him.