You’re on a road trip — you’ve been driving for hours and it’s late in the afternoon when you finally pull up to a gas station in a nameless small town somewhere in the California desert.
The sun is beating down hot, but the station attendant? He’s hotter, shiny black leather breaking up the dull gray landscape that stretches for miles, pointed boots covered in dust and a bandana that waves playfully at you in the warm breeze. You can’t take your eyes off him as he fills up your tank, he tosses you a crooked grin when he catches you looking.
You linger at the station longer than necessary, stretching your legs and clearing your head. It’s been a long time since you’ve had good company, even if all you exchange is placid smalltalk about where you’re from (nowhere) and where you’re going (anywhere). The empty highway calls you when the sun starts to flag in the sky, but you don’t feel so directionless anymore. Wherever it takes you, you know you’ll stop here again on the way back home.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
FINALLY getting the chance to start responding to these! Just got a couple more so hopefully will work through them in the next week or so
Said I wasn't going to write and then I did 😅 here's a drabble and an extra idea:
--
Slash was looking everywhere but at Duff — silently gawking at the decor, dropping his eyes down to his lap, fidgeting with his rings and shirt cuffs, jiggling his leg under the table...
It was driving Duff's nerves absolutely crazy.
"You — you know we don't have to do this if you don't want to. I appreciate you trying and all, but — "
Slash's gaze finally shot up to meet Duff's. "Huh? No, I'm fine, I'm not backing out."
"Cool, cool. It's just, you seem a little on edge..."
Slash's leg stilled and his fingertips spread flat on the table. Duff could tell he was thinking, he knew Slash's expressions better than anyone. Still, the short pause felt like an eternity. He braced himself for whatever potentially-devastating thought Slash had to share.
"It's just... When you suggested we" — his voice dropped and he leaned across the table — "pretend to date. I wasn't really expecting all this." He made a small gesture vaguely indicating their surroundings, his eyes darting over to the other tables and the stony-faced waitress who had grimaced at his sneakers when she seated them. "I've never done the whole, fancy restaurant, win-and-dine thing before, you know?"
Of course. When had Duff ever seen Slash take a date out for fine dining? He overdid it, trying so hard to impress Slash, to show him what a relationship could be like, that he ended up making him uncomfortable instead.
"We could go back to my place and do pizza and a movie instead," Duff blurted.
Slash blinked. "I thought the whole point was for us to be a convincing couple in public?"
It was just an excuse to spend time with you. "We'll have plenty more chances for that next week. Maybe I was jumping the gun with this whole date-night cliche. We should start with something more familiar," he reasoned. "You've been wanting to show me The Thing, right?"
Slash lit up, the discomforted edge vanished from his eyes. "Did you really get it?"
"The director's cut," Duff informed him proudly.
Slash was already sliding out of the booth, grabbing Duff's hand to lead him out of the restaurant. Duff happily stumbled after him, failing to suppress a blinding grin with Slash's warm fingers curled around his palm.
--
Also, how about a fake marriage?
Slash wasn’t born in the us, and he didn't get his us citizenship until after he almost got deported for trying to use an expired visa on tour (something like this happened irl, but I don't have the details handy..)
Due to legal complications (maybe relating to his various brushes with the law in the past), resolving the matter isn’t so simple. But they have international tour dates to make, they don’t have time to sit around and wait for bureaucracy to do its thing.
So Slash and Duff come up with a plan. They’ll get Slash a green card the old fashioned way – by getting married. Of course, it has to be a reasonably convincing marriage to work, so they’ll tell everyone that they were in a secret relationship for months. Their friends and family easily accept the lie — so easily, in fact, that Slash and Duff each start to see their relationship in a different light.
So, this idea appeared a while ago when I was listening to an interview Slash did with Howard Stern and started thinking about what kinds of invasive questions reporters would ask in an a/b/o universe... It was originally just the first part, but I added the second scene this week which is why this is a day later than usual. Sfw, suggestive but not graphic.
—
"Aw, come on... I'm not like that!"
Slash was visibly flustered, his voice rose in pitch and Duff resisted the temptation to squeeze his reddening cheeks.
"No, seriously, I – " He pursed his lips as the voice on the line cut him off.
Slash was sitting with his back against the headboard of the cushy hotel bed, wrapped up in a complimentary white terrycloth robe, with freshly-washed hair soaking his collar and the telephone receiver cradled at his shoulder. He was in the middle of an interview, and Duff, for his part, was being perfectly quiet as he waited on the couch for Slash to finish.
This was nothing new: even now that they could afford their own rooms, Duff still spent most of his time in Slash's suite. And they'd learned long ago that it was best not to let on that there was anyone else in the room during interviews – it raised too many questions that they didn't care to answer.
"No, people have this idea that – just because I'm in a band and I'm... you know, an alpha…" Slash always stumbled on his words when he was embarrassed, it frustrated him sometimes but Duff found it endearing. "But I'm really not one of those guys who'll like, pick fights with other alphas and come on to every omega they meet. I just wasn't raised that way, you know?"
Duff had heard this line of questioning a million times before. If only he had a nickel for every time Slash had tried to explain that just because he's an alpha and a rockstar, that doesn't mean he's an asshole, he doesn't throw his weight around and get whatever he wants, and he can't just tell Axl what to do because he's an omega, it doesn't work that way!
But the press never listened. Honestly, Duff was glad he was just a common beta, if it meant he had to deal with a little less bullshit.
Really though, part of it was just Slash himself. Alpha or no, somehow he always managed to attract attention – much of it undesired. There was just something about his look, his riffs, his mystique. Reporters, managers, and omegas... everyone wanted a piece of Slash.
Duff was the one who got him, though.
—
"Jesus, that guy was like a fucking shark! You'd think he was scenting me through the phone line." Slash dropped the receiver on its cradle with a forceful good riddance and an irritated pout.
"He sounded like a jerk," Duff sympathized, climbing onto the bed to reclaim his spot straddling Slash’s thighs. "Beta?”
“I think so. Don’t be jealous?” He leaned up to peck Duff’s temple and gave him an imploring look, but the corner of his lips gave his teasing away.
“As if,” Duff scoffed. “…He should learn to mind his own business.” He parted the lapels of the robe and lay his hands on Slash’s warm chest as it rose and fell with his laughter.
“You gonna teach him a lesson, sweetheart?” he gently prodded, looking up at Duff with fond amusement, hooded eyes and curled lips. “Gonna defend your alpha’s honor?”
“I’d teach him a lesson with my fists if you’d let me…” Duff played along, half serious.
“No one lays a hand on you, you know that.”
The words slipped out as a growl, and Duff tipped his head forward to chuckle breathlessly into Slash’s shoulder.
“Christ, Slash…”
“Aw, don’t make fun of me baby, you know I can't control that sometimes,” he whined, tugging on a lock of wet hair and twisting it around his fingers. A drop of water landed on his collarbone.
He watched the droplet trace a path down Slash's bare chest, avoiding his gaze to hide his warm cheeks. Slash had dated betas before, but Duff had never been with another alpha, and sometimes Slash’s idiosyncrasies still managed to fluster him.
“Oh?” Slash sounded pleased. That was more than enough encouragement for him, he didn’t hesitate to get to work on Duff’s shirt buttons. His calloused fingertips grazed Duff’s skin, and he squirmed on Slash’s lap. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting so long, you’ve been so patient all afternoon while I’ve been stuck in interviews…”
“Typical selfish alpha behavior,” Duff sniped, but he was already unwinding the sash around Slash’s waist.
Slash rolled his eyes. “Not you too…” He buried his fingers in Duff’s hair and pulled him close for a kiss. “I’m sure there’s some way I can make it up to you…”
Thursday drabbles week 2, some slice-of-life sluff circa 1991. Wrote this one at the height of my obsession with Slash's polka-dot shirt 😌 Next week... I haven't decided yet. A piece of an a/b/o AU maybe? Or something with a bit of angst? What do you guys think?
--
“Ah, fuck!”
The red solo cup was now on the floor of the backstage hallway, and it’s vodka-cranberry contents were now soaked into the front of Duff’s shirt.
Fuckin’ figures, the one day he doesn’t wear a black top, he manages to make a mess of himself. Not that he wasn’t normally a mess, but they were filming a TV interview in five minutes!
'They' meaning him and Slash, as usual. Duff did a lot of interviews with Slash, mostly because the management didn’t want to deal with wrangling Axl and because everybody seemed to want to hear from Slash – as oblivious as the guitarist seemed to be to that fact. Duff didn’t have much to say to reporters himself, but the logic was that if they went together, between the two of them they would be intelligent enough and sober enough to get through the interview without stirring up any shit.
Normally, Duff resented the 'dumbass rocker' stereotype more than anything… But then there were moments like this that made him wonder if the buddy system had something to it.
Slash was already gripping the edge of Duff’s ruined shirt, “Hey, hey it’s ok man… Let’s just get this off you, huh?”
Duff let Slash tug off his shirt, watched him stretch out on his tiptoes to get the hem over Duff’s head. Then Slash started fumbling with the buttons of his own shirt, and Duff snorted a laugh.
“Are we both gonna do the interview half-naked?”
“Nah, man, c’mon…” Slash admonished with a grin on his face as he shrugged off his shirt and held it out to Duff. “Here, you wear mine, it’s big on me so it’ll fit you fine. And I got my jacket so I don’t really need it.”
Duff accepted the shirt from Slash and slipped it on. The cloth was still warm from Slash’s body, Duff did up a couple buttons then ran his fingers down the soft, velvety black fabric interspersed with shiny little silver dots that were slippery beneath his fingertips. The shirt was comfortable, almost cozy, in that lived-in way like a favorite blanket. It was always slipping off Slash’s shoulders when he wore it – quite often as of late – but on Duff it was just loose enough. The sleeves were a bit too short, so he cuffed them, and when he looked up Slash had his fringed leather jacket on and was rocking on his toes, waiting for Duff to finish preening so they could hurry up and get this interview over with.
Kicking things off with a soulmate au drabble! I'm hoping to start moving my collection of soulmate aus over to ao3 soon, so this seemed like a good place to start. next week i'm thinking it'll be a slightly longer non-au sluff ficlet...
--
All things considered, the reflection in his mom's full-length mirror wasn't bad.
Slash's favorite band tee was fresh out of the drier, his jeans were free of any holes, and he had carefully scraped all the mud off his boots after that one night at the dirt biking track...
He tugged on his nicest leather jacket and a cool belt, then sifted through a pile of jewelry for his best pieces. All of it was cheap, but he found some chains that weren't noticably tarnished, and nabbed a nice pair of hoops from his mom's jewelry box — she wouldn't mind, right? This was important, after all.
There wasn't, unfortunately, much he could do about his completely unmanageable hair. Despite his best efforts in the shower, it was frizzy as hell and as usual it consumed his face. He could try a ponytail, maybe? No, that just felt too unfamiliar and exposed. A hat it was, then — the round felt hat he'd taken to recently would suffice.
Never in his life had Slash put so much thought into his appearance, but this wasn't just any day. He ran through his mental checklist: He'd cleaned his car, stashed a tin of mints and some tissues in the glove box. He'd already resolved to introduce himself as Saul Hudson, not just Slash, so there wouldn't be any confusion later on. He'd slipped some extra cash and a condom into his wallet, prepared for any eventuality.
Fuck, did he do enough? Some people started preparing for this moment years in advance. What if he already screwed everything up by not organizing some huge, expensive event? What if he made a fool of himself, what if he was too awkward, too sloppy, too unimpressive?
No, it was better not to even entertain the thought. Whatever happened, happened, all he could do was hope for the best.
With a deep breath, Slash finally allowed himself to glance at the timer on his wrist.
Six hours. In six hours, Slash would meet his soulmate.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
alright I finally got something like a groove going answering those past few minific requests, so here's the plan for my fic uploads going forward:
I'm shooting for one new writing post every week. I've tentatively chosen thursday as the upload day (might be subject to change), so expect something new later this evening!
over the past year or so I've been piling up a bunch of drabbles and oneshot wips so expect short fics, maybe some bullet point fics/headcanons as well. as always comments & notes are much appreciated 👍
Slash groaned and flopped backward on the bed. "Man, don't call it 'fooling around'..."
"Why not?"
"It makes it sounds like we're teenagers, I don't know."
"Well, what should I say? Our sexcapades?"
"Dude, no — "
"Shag-nanigans?"
"Christ. I'm gonna pretend I never heard that, Duff." Slash rubbed his face with the heel of his hand, wiping away his perturbed reaction to Duff's ill-attempted wordplay. He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow and picking at lint on the blanket as he continued. "I just meant... We've been doing this for a while. I think we're a little past 'fooling around' now. You know?"
Slash didn't look up to watch Duff's reaction, but his shoulders lost some of their tension when he felt a hand rest on his thigh.
"Seriously man, thanks for coming over." Slash held open the door to his swanky new place in Beverley Hills, kicking aside a squeaky toy as he motioned for Duff to come in.
"Are you kidding? When you called me the other day, I was like, 'This I gotta see!'" Duff laughed. "Slash the snake charmer with a fuckin' purse dog, who'd've guessed?"
In the past 20 years, Duff had gotten pretty damn good at knowing when Slash was rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses, and the unimpressed look he shot back at Duff definitely fit the bill.
"Yeah, whatever. She needs to practice socializing or she's gonna end up with attachment issues... So naturally I called up the only guy in my contacts who uses a 'Pug Dad' coffee mug every morning."
"Hey!" Duff's complaint was interrupted by a fuzzy brown blur skidding around the corner. A Pomeranian puppy rocketed towards them on tiny paws, yapping joyfully. "Hey there, Foxy!" Duff bent down to pat her head and ruffle her fur. "At least someone here is happy to see me..."
Slash chuckled above him and caught Duff in a kiss as he rose back to his feet. "Alright, I wanted to see you too, sweetheart."
