I am delusional and I love all things 70s/80s. Especially music. Especially Slash. Slash is God.
I write mainly about: Slash/GNR
REQUESTS: I only do slash requests- summer is my busy work season and requests may not be fulfilled for a while. Thank you for your patience and thank you for the inspiration! <3
I welcome *most here but ask that you be proactive about your personal ideals and limitations as you see fit. Common: smut/drugs/abuse/brief mentions of SA/blood/violence.
*pxdos, terfs and other related persons are not welcome.
All writings are works of fiction with consenting adults, and are sole property of ginsengkitten. Any replicated or copied writings here or on other sites will be apprehended and reported.
The stage door burst open and you poured out into the damp alleyway. The neon signs illuminating the wet asphalt, providing just enough light for you to flick your lighter repeatedly in a failed desperate attempt to light your cigarette. It took you longer than you would have liked to realize you weren’t alone in the alleyway. As if by design, you found yourself again staring at a shadowy figure in an alleyway, eyeing you down like a predator. His dark curls enthralled his dark, chiseled face. He turned his face up to confirm your suspicion-it was him.
“No.” You shake your head immediately turning to open the stage door, but slash beats you to the door, overpowering your attempt to open it and slams it shut as his arm encases you into him. He was larger and stockier now, more muscular and manly. You instantly pull away. “I guess you’re still not above running away huh” slash bites, his voice deeper and gravelly. “I have nothing to say to you.” You bite back immediately shutting his remark down. A tense burn was thickened in the damp night air. Both of your hearts racing with adrenaline as your chests both rose in anger. Your back is turned as he towers behind you, his large hand still holding the door shut.
“Seems like after a couple years you might think of something to say for once.” Slash growled. His labored breath from the brief struggle was hot on your neck. His sharp sweet musk filled your lungs and your knees weaken slightly. Words fail you. Rejecting the desire to drink him in completely, you remain unphased. You simply can’t believe this is happening right now.
Only the gentle rainfall onto the pavement filled the void. Slash reissued his anger with a fist to the door, you jolted in fear underneath him as the sound banged out on the metal door. A frustrated grunt escaping from his lips
“Y/N! What are you doing here?!” He barked out some sort of expression of concern and confusion and shock to see you, especially here. You had enough and ripped yourself away from his enclosure and stood away in the alley now facing him.
“WHY DOES IT MATTER SLASH?! HUH?! WHY DO YOU SUDDENLY GIVE A SHIT? WHAT DO YOU CARE?!” You broke your silence.
“BECAUSE IVE ALWAYS FUCKING CARED, Y/N!” He immediately replied.
The two of you wasted no time picking up a long awaited conversation. The conversation was clearly reminiscent of the past now.
“That’s bullshit - that’s bullshit and you know it!” You retort.
“I WAITED Y/N!” Slash took a pause and continued, you watched him.
“I WAITED AND YOU NEVER WROTE! YOU NEVER CALLED, YOU NEVER SAID ANYTHING!” He took a slight step forward pleading in anger, a tinge of sadness trailing in his voice.
You unintentionally roll your eyes and let out a loud scoff/laugh/cry. You glance upward at the sky in frustration. The level of disaster and frustration had you almost chuckling.
“They took me AWAY!” You laugh in total anger at this whole situation. Slash’s demeanor slows as he tries to understand what you mean. You notice his confusion and go on.
“God slash- they locked me UP! In that-that fucking asylum! I wrote- I wrote you every fucking day I could and THEY never sent them.” You ramble and flail your arm.
And then you turn to face him again. “And you know what slash-?” Your arms hit your sides limply defeated. “it didn’t even fucking MATTER in the end because as soon as I got out you were already moved on! Okay?! I saw you on MTV, I saw you win all the stupid fucking awards, the girls, I saw it all slash!” You roar off this all as slash stood still and watched.
“I MOVED ON BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU DID! WHAT CHOICE DID I HAVE? I COULDN’T LIVE IN THAT ANY LONGER. If I felt it any longer it would have fucking killed me. Do you understand that? My fucking life depended on forgetting you. Living-…with the fact that I lost you seemingly so quickly, foxey.. I couldn’t…I-“
The nickname spilled out of his mouth like acid. Causing a slight pause between the two of you. You snapped. This was stupid. You had a job to do, he could return to his night of luxurious squalor. You start stepping backwards, wiping a tear off your cheek.
“Did it mean anything then?” You ask quietly.
“What do you mean?” He asks.
You shrug. “All of it- slash. Did any of it mean anything to you then?”
Slash took a step forward.
“ it meant fucking everything.” He emphasized. His voice choking ever so slightly.
You give slash a wholehearted smile through your tears, feeling silly. Still hurt, still angry. And now confused and terribly frustrated.
“Well, this has been great, just lovely-“ you laugh and sniff up tears. “but I don’t have time for this, I have to go. ” You continue to walk away.
He stands there looking at you in awe and defeat. Words failing him.
You round the corner, your heels clacking on the ground. You rest for a moment up against the opposite corner to catch yourself. The bright lights from the street shining down on you against the brick wall. You cup a hand over your mouth as additional tears etch their way out of you against your will. Everything you have fought to forget came spilling through you like tidal waves. The air swept from your lungs. And now that entire confrontation to top it off. What a nightmare you thought. An absolute fucking nightmare. Everything he said just then…..all of this- it had broken him too. By the emotion in his voice, it was clear he was earnest in his heartbreak. It was real- he really had been wounded just as you had.
Clara rounded the corner “there you are girl! Hey wassa matter doll? come on you know we gotta end tonight with a bang. Don’t let no stupid guys hold you down” She held you as you composed yourself. Her cheery demeanor always lifted you off your feet. She was right, you had clients to please and money to make, a roof to pay for. You had to earn your keep.
Clara pulled back and held your face in her hands“I got somethin that’ll cheer you up-“ she giggled like she had a secret and pulled out a small baggie of coke, shaking it playfully it in her fingers. You wiped your face and took a deep breath.
“Okay, let’s fucking do this.” You said sighed. You and Clara circle inside through the front door as to avoid returning to the alleyway. “By the way- did ya catch that total HUNK in the alleyway back thea? Gawd what I would do to climb that guy like a tree, didn’t catch his face but I’m sure it’s as good as his ass!” She remarked nonchalantly unaware of his identity or relation to you. I mean she was right. Time had been extremely kind to him. He grew into himself. His curls were somewhat darker and larger than life. His body fit and toned to the point that it was noticeable even through his clothing. His stature was taller and thickened with muscle. His strength was greater and so was his overall energy. Something undeniably cravable about him that pierced through the anger and pain associated with his presence. Memories infiltrating your mind. Had things gone differently back there, a small part of you wished to turn around and run back into his big muscular arms, to feel his large strong hands hold your body like a doll, his hot breath to caress your neck again….
*snap snap* “Helloooooo. Are you even listening to me?” Clara laughed. You returned to reality.
“Sorry right- what were you saying? God- sorry Clara I’m just off it tonight.” You admit still staring off. She takes no offense.
“Oh I was just sayin about that VIP client that booked you tonight. Pretty exciting stuff to have such a big name like that request you specifically like that- a last minute booking for you like that ain’t cheap, oughta put up some big cash to reserve you like that. Of course I suppose cash ain’t no worry for guys like that., bein famous n all.”
You queue back into the conversation.
“Famous?” You ask
“Yeah girl, ain’t you neva hearda Guns N’ Roses before?”
Slash mindlessly stumbled through the dark room, his attempt to keep his escape quiet was not met with much caution- at this point, he did not entirely care to be caught sneaking out again after another one night stand.
“Leaving now?” Crystal rustled awake and sturdied herself up on her elbow, the sheets twisted around her naked body. Slash didn’t pay her a glance as he buckled his jeans up around his waist in the pitch black. Silence sat in the darkness of the hotel room, with only the muffled motions of slash and the busy streets of LA below. He mumbled his usual, empty “goodbye” and wrapped his jacket around him, already shaking his box of Marlboros in his hand. Crystal accepted his typical departure and collapsed back to sleep as the door clicked shut.
The tour bus for Slashes Snake Pit set to depart LA around 4:30 am. Unusual hours were no stranger to Slash. With the peak of Guns and the beginning of his new side project band- Slash’s Snakepit, his energy was spent thin of romance. In fact, it had been years since something lived in his heart besides ache. It was a heavy sorrow he carried with him and learned to hide well. It had almost broken him apart at first, but when the record label threatened Guns after his stage performances began to suffer from his sorrows, he learned to bury this pain deep inside himself. He nursed himself to a livable health through drugs,whiskey and meaningless sex. He had a couple contenders that met him at his hotels he frequented through tours, but none, such as crystal, were ever privy to real warmth or love in any aspect from him.
With the Guns n Roses tour completed, he could focus in on his project of Slash’s Snakepit. The crew piled on the bus in the early hours and headed out to Dallas TX, for the next leg of the tour.
This was his life. The road, the music, the drugs and the women. All to numb a constant ache. A constant void inside that seemingly never filled. And while he tried time and again to ignore it and move past it, in the rare times that he spent alone in his hotel room or on the bus, his eyes would trace to the nearest window and his thoughts would return to that same single seed of which his pain grew.
Her. Her smile. Her laugh. Her voice.
Her.
No one laughed the way she laughed. No one smiled the way she smiled. No one spoke the way she spoke or sang the way she sang. No one cared the way she cared or played the way she played. No one felt the way she felt. Her body, her eyes, her skin, her touch.
Her.
Unbeknownst to Slash, in the moments that he spent staring off into the window, a familiar pair of eyes also sat, staring, from across the country, also remembering that summer. As if staring at each other through the night sky, a reflection of one another glazed into their minds. A mutual sorrow that tied them together.
-
You turned your gaze down from the night sky. The cool summer night air blew through your skirt and trailed down your exposed legs. Although you didn’t shiver. It felt good to cool off from the stuffy dressing room. Most of the dancers chose to hang around outside in between shows to chat and cool down with a cigarette or count their tips so far. Your group had just finished performing the first act of their new choreography. Practicing for weeks to dial it in. Already the nights earnings completely boasted any in the past week. It was of course in hand also to do with the busyness of the club during the summertime. Lots of tourists came far and wide to visit the club and watch the dancers. Stripclub? No, no this was the infamous dance lounge- ‘Sparkplug’. You never call a sparkplug girl a stripper or you’d get a 6 inch stiletto heel lodged in your ballsack. Sparkplug was a high end dance lounge in the heart of downtown. It had been a nightlife staple since it’s opening as a speakeasy in the 30s. Over time and history, it evolved lengths past your average stripclub. Only big names and big spenders got in, and only the best dancers in the state got hired on. If you were a Sparkplug girl, you were the shit. And you were, and you knew it too. You hadn’t spent years working your talents up for nothing. It’s not a job you ever imagined for yourself but your talent showed otherwise. With no where else to turn, you learned pretty early on to adapt to the needs of the market.
A couple years back, you were taken in by the club owner, a powerful and beautiful woman named Ms. Deetz. But everyone called her Dee, and her partner in crime and equally beautiful, Lucille. Dee had inherited the club through a nasty civil suit about 20 years ago, and had really turned the club into the successful monolith it was today. It was the rattiest, brattiest, loudest club on the block. Cheetah print lined furniture and red velvet walls splayed throughout. A permanent installation of the 80s glam/hair rock scene. The performances catered to the prime 80s rock scene and as such, it was quite the circus. Saturday nights being the rowdiest.
The club was hopping in its typical fashion. A thick layer of smoke lined the room and seeped inwards to the plush and sparkling dressing room. Fellow dancers chattered and yelled amongst each-other in typical banter. Lipstick snatched from one clawed hand to the next, tacky feather boas flayed throughout, sweeping in the breeze of the next girl running past to the stage.
You stared at yourself in your mirror. Polaroids and lipstick decorated the frame narrowly leaving space to actually view oneself. The typical noise drowned to a muffle to you. The woman staring back was a mystery to you. Beautiful- but a mystery. Unsure if this is what you want. Is there something more that you want? Why does this feel so whole and yet so empty?
“-and bettah yet, I bet them guys even be HUNG!” Conversation snapped you from your trance. The girls flushed around the room in an excitement to which you weren’t yet privy to.
“AND - they usually got no wife- no kids, a GHOST of a man!” One girl giggled out deviously. You blinked around to catch up to speed. “What about you babes, you gonna bust your tail feather tonight?!” A mousy but loud girl named clara reed hung herself on your shoulder awaiting your reply. “Yes-?” You reply confused. “What’s all the fuss for huh?” You add. Clara rolls her eyes playfully knowing you hadn’t been listening earlier.
“Couple of bigwigs from a few record labels are here tonight!” Another girl answered excitedly.
Clara nodded in agreement. “Exactly! And you know what that meannnnsss!!” She jovially rubbed her fingers together in a sort of money grabbing ‘cha ching!’ Motion.
“It means you gonna dance your heart out like you all supposed to and DONT get knocked up.” Dee remarked, entering the room clearly privy to the conversation at hand. Another girl rolled her eyes seriously. “That was ONE time Dee!” She puttered off. Dee swept out the clutter of girls clearly jazzed about the prospect of multiple rich old men in the club tonight. It meant good earnings and good times. You were no stranger to this concept, but it was not the most thrilling thing to your heart you admit. Dee came up behind you, appearing in the mirror. She laid a gentle hand on your shoulder as she usually did. Dee offered a sort of unconditional motherly love to all the girls at Sparkplug. Taking in strays and weeding out trouble. One time even shooting a stalker ex boyfriend of Clara’s in the foot. Dee claims self defense and that’s what all the girls agreed on..
“What’s eating you, sugar?” She asked concerned, noticing your energy shifted. You really didn’t have an answer for that. “I’m fine, Dee. You know me.” You retort. Dee huffed in clear disbelief of your usual lie but didn’t have time to challenge it, so she lovingly gave you her squeeze and walked to return to her business quarters in the VIP lounge. Before exiting, she gave an encouraging “get out there and show those old bastards what you really got!”. You exchange cheeky grins and she departed.
Clara returned to your shoulder and topped off the energy with her own excited spurt. “Look atcha darling. Are we gonna rock these fuckers or what?!” She chirped energetically. Infusing you with her enthusiasm. She was right. You were the best dancer there. These old fucks want a show? Let’s give ‘em a show.
"If I knew the way the world was, what it would really be like- once I left that hospital and walked out into that rainy night in the west parking lot to meet the mystery writer who came to my rescue, had I known, I don't know if I really would have left so quickly.”
-
That night, a plain clothed Sister Graham had come to your rescue. In a heartbeat, you jumped in and the two of you took off. It was a thrill to the both of you, to leave that place. She had explained how she was forcefully retired due to her lack of “passion”. She explained that she would like to go see her sister back west and thought to smuggle you along with her. The two of you prowling the states in her shotty volvo. It was until one night in a motel that the plans had suddenly made a drastic change.
-
You lied on the sheets of the creaky floral bed, the half busted television illuminating the dark motel room. The Saturday night MTV broadcast was running as usual, it had been months since you last watched television. Hoping to catch something of substance before hitting the road again in the early morning. It was around 9pm when a familiar tune echoed out from the Tv that made your ears perk up. Words for a music video titling on the screen. It was a playback recording of a Guns n Roses concert from the week prior! You grappled your way to the edge of the bed, face at full attention to the screen now. Wow this is them just a week ago performing at a venue in LA. This performance began and seemed almost more polished than the ones you were used to. It became apparent that some sort of creative direction was being applied here. Pyrotechnics burst out behind the band. Carefully curated recording angles for dramatic effect- and - a plethora of scantily clad women sprinkled along the stage itself. Intertwining their bodies with the band and the rhythm. It seemed so….strange. Your fight for a glimpse of Slash was apprehended with a sour sight that suddenly turned your blood cold but your face red hot. A beautiful bombshell swayed herself around Slash as he played out in total enjoyment. Her long nails, soothed over his body as he performed on stage. An unfamiliar smile of greedy drunken stupor washed over his face. His enjoyment of this. This- orgy like display. The way he responded to her touch was organic and seemingly so- real? He seemed happy. So happy and so alive. Energy flowing through his fingertips and the strings as the woman lustered her self practically into his body it seemed. Her own devious grin of enjoyment too. You had seen enough. You shut the Tv off and scrambled back onto the edge of the bed in shock and disgust. This was merely a week old. Look at him. Happy, thriving.
The idea that you belonged in his picture became idiotic in this moment. The familiar echo of betrayal made its way back into your heart. Nausea waved over you as you stunned. All of this, all of this love, pain, yearning, sorrow- for what? For him to be the happiest he’s ever been? For him to be crawling with beautiful women? For him to be on MTV? What reason could he have to want you in this perfect new life he has found? His beautiful face flashed into your mind with a sting. Just as quickly, your own reflection blurring into view in the mirror on the wall beside you. Look at yourself, you thought.Tears had gone past welled and altogether escaped your eyes. You wanted to cry, really you did, but they just didn’t fall this time. You were so exhausted. Defeated. Alone.
It was in the same breath that fury engulfed your every cell. Forcing you to hurriedly pack what items you had with you and dart from the motel before Sister Graham could exit her shower. Broken inside, all you wanted now was to escape everything. Every piece of that girl that lived that life. And the life before it. You wanted nothing to do with any of it anymore.
The neon motel sign showered a hazey glow onto the dark street. A familiarity impressed you with the neon lights. As they always had. Just like the glittering signs up and down sunset. After reaching a small Main Street, you left your run now down to a slow waltz in the dark. Unsure of where to turn next exactly. A thumb stuck out along the lonely highway in the late evening hours. An hour stringing by without a single bite until an unsuspecting pickup truck rolled up along side the curb. With a window rolled down, you met your gaze with a beautiful, stunning woman. A glamorous sight, the most well tailored lady with an extravagant updo and glitter lined eyes. She eyed you precariously.
“Honey you better have a death wish standin out here in the night like this. Ain’t your daddy ever teach you stranger danger? You must be out a your damn mind girl.” The woman scorned sweetly. Her voice was deep and warm.
You stared blankly.
“Where you heading anyways baby?” She asked in a motherly and comforting voice, as if she’d raised you herself.
“I’m not really sure honestly….away from here?” You shrug at the ground.
Another figure ducks forward from the passenger seat. An equally beautiful woman pokes her head over examining you through her cigarette. “We got places to be child, you gettin in or what?” She grumbled in a less friendly manner. Her voice also a warm but deep tone. The first woman rolled her eyes at this remark. “Ignore her. Come with us.” She kindly motioned her head to the backseat.
“You damn lucky we was driving here girl, could have got your stupid ass chopped up like liver out here!” The second woman joked in a lighter, less mean, manner as the truck rumbled down the road. The cab smelled of sweet perfume and somehow, a feeling of uncertainty, but safety, befell you, and you knew wherever you went next, you vowed to leave the old you behind. Here in this town, on this curb, on this highway. A grave of who You once were settled to rest as you drove towards your new life.
"If I knew the way the world was, what it would really be like- once I left that hospital and walked out into that rainy night in the west parking lot to meet the mystery writer who came to my rescue, had I known, I don't know if I really would have left so quickly.”
-
That night, a plain clothed Sister Graham had come to your rescue. In a heartbeat, you jumped in and the two of you took off. It was a thrill to the both of you, to leave that place. She had explained how she was forcefully retired due to her lack of “passion”. She explained that she would like to go see her sister back west and thought to smuggle you along with her. The two of you prowling the states in her shotty volvo. It was until one night in a motel that the plans had suddenly made a drastic change.
-
You lied on the sheets of the creaky floral bed, the half busted television illuminating the dark motel room. The Saturday night MTV broadcast was running as usual, it had been months since you last watched television. Hoping to catch something of substance before hitting the road again in the early morning. It was around 9pm when a familiar tune echoed out from the Tv that made your ears perk up. Words for a music video titling on the screen. It was a playback recording of a Guns n Roses concert from the week prior! You grappled your way to the edge of the bed, face at full attention to the screen now. Wow this is them just a week ago performing at a venue in LA. This performance began and seemed almost more polished than the ones you were used to. It became apparent that some sort of creative direction was being applied here. Pyrotechnics burst out behind the band. Carefully curated recording angles for dramatic effect- and - a plethora of scantily clad women sprinkled along the stage itself. Intertwining their bodies with the band and the rhythm. It seemed so….strange. Your fight for a glimpse of Slash was apprehended with a sour sight that suddenly turned your blood cold but your face red hot. A beautiful bombshell swayed herself around Slash as he played out in total enjoyment. Her long nails, soothed over his body as he performed on stage. An unfamiliar smile of greedy drunken stupor washed over his face. His enjoyment of this. This- orgy like display. The way he responded to her touch was organic and seemingly so- real? He seemed happy. So happy and so alive. Energy flowing through his fingertips and the strings as the woman lustered her self practically into his body it seemed. Her own devious grin of enjoyment too. You had seen enough. You shut the Tv off and scrambled back onto the edge of the bed in shock and disgust. This was merely a week old. Look at him. Happy, thriving.
The idea that you belonged in his picture became idiotic in this moment. The familiar echo of betrayal made its way back into your heart. Nausea waved over you as you stunned. All of this, all of this love, pain, yearning, sorrow- for what? For him to be the happiest he’s ever been? For him to be crawling with beautiful women? For him to be on MTV? What reason could he have to want you in this perfect new life he has found? His beautiful face flashed into your mind with a sting. Just as quickly, your own reflection blurring into view in the mirror on the wall beside you. Look at yourself, you thought.Tears had gone past welled and altogether escaped your eyes. You wanted to cry, really you did, but they just didn’t fall this time. You were so exhausted. Defeated. Alone.
It was in the same breath that fury engulfed your every cell. Forcing you to hurriedly pack what items you had with you and dart from the motel before Sister Graham could exit her shower. Broken inside, all you wanted now was to escape everything. Every piece of that girl that lived that life. And the life before it. You wanted nothing to do with any of it anymore.
The neon motel sign showered a hazey glow onto the dark street. A familiarity impressed you with the neon lights. As they always had. Just like the glittering signs up and down sunset. After reaching a small Main Street, you left your run now down to a slow waltz in the dark. Unsure of where to turn next exactly. A thumb stuck out along the lonely highway in the late evening hours. An hour stringing by without a single bite until an unsuspecting pickup truck rolled up along side the curb. With a window rolled down, you met your gaze with a beautiful, stunning woman. A glamorous sight, the most well tailored lady with an extravagant updo and glitter lined eyes. She eyed you precariously.
“Honey you better have a death wish standin out here in the night like this. Ain’t your daddy ever teach you stranger danger? You must be out a your damn mind girl.” The woman scorned sweetly. Her voice was deep and warm.
You stared blankly.
“Where you heading anyways baby?” She asked in a motherly and comforting voice, as if she’d raised you herself.
“I’m not really sure honestly….away from here?” You shrug at the ground.
Another figure ducks forward from the passenger seat. An equally beautiful woman pokes her head over examining you through her cigarette. “We got places to be child, you gettin in or what?” She grumbled in a less friendly manner. Her voice also a warm but deep tone. The first woman rolled her eyes at this remark. “Ignore her. Come with us.” She kindly motioned her head to the backseat.
“You damn lucky we was driving here girl, could have got your stupid ass chopped up like liver out here!” The second woman joked in a lighter, less mean, manner as the truck rumbled down the road. The cab smelled of sweet perfume and somehow, a feeling of uncertainty, but safety, befell you, and you knew wherever you went next, you vowed to leave the old you behind. Here in this town, on this curb, on this highway. A grave of who You once were settled to rest as you drove towards your new life.
Tysm for your patience with this one. May is a difficult month for me for personal reasons. I’m still writing and I’m so excited for you guys see where this heads. I hope you guys enjoy <3
Dear Slash,
Im sorry I didn't write you sooner. Things have been a little crazy since I got home. Well, not home actually. My parents have turned me in to this special all girls Christian school that specializes in "troubled young women". Apparently they can legally do that even though I've just turned 18! I never agreed to it, they just left me here. In the middle of nowhere- with these weird nuns. They haven't told me how often mail is sent out so I'm not sure how often I'll write, but I promise I will.
I'm sorry how I left things. I didn't know they were coming to take me home. I tried to say goodbye but they gave me no chance. Please forgive me. This summer was the best time of my whole life. Because I met you.
I know letters are a little prehistoric these days, but I've no access to a phone here. Again, I promise to write often. I'll call you as soon as I'm out.
Love, Foxey.
-
Dear Slash,
I'm not sure if you are receiving my letters. If you are and just don't want to speak to me, I understand that. I know mail can take a while... anyways. I figured writing to you helps me pass the time here. This place is awful. It's been 2 weeks of hell. I was forced to detox from everything. It's been so hard. I hardly sleep at night. But when I do, I am so happy because I dream of you. I also daydream a lot. It helps me get through the day. The days are long and boring. There's not really a curriculum here. Even though they call it a school. The nuns are mean. They took away all my clothing and I have to wear a white dress everyday and every night. It's cold and uncomfortable. Each day consists of the same thing. They wake you up at 6 am every fucking morning. It's barely light out. Then you have to clean your room. If you can only eat breakfast if you pass morning room inspection. I've failed 5 times so far...
Anyways. Sorry. I don't mean to complain to you. I don't have anything exciting to write about. I hope you have having very exciting experiences in LA still. Please write me when you can... I want to know how you are!
Love, Foxey
-
Slash,
Today was horrible. Just horrible. I'm sorry to write you only my miseries, but it feels like that's all I have left lately. Turns out, if you don't comply with every single whim and precision- even making the wrong face, or the tone of your voice, the nuns will be violent with you. They carry rulers, books and at times, even their bare hands- are weapons. I can't exactly remember what I did first to step out of line, all I remember was sister Agatha (she's a total bitch) slapping me so hard across the face, the stinging lasted for hours. I cried a little but only in private. I don't think I want to let them see me cry. I don't want them to know they have that power!
I still wait for your reply. I hope you are well.
Love, Foxey.
-
Hi There,
It's been a while. Sorry for that. I don't have much different to say to you. Or much at all. I think I get your message from your silence. If it all meant nothing to you after all, then so be it. I think maybe I belong here anyways. It's best for everyone. I want to let you know it really hurts me to accept that you are done with me. With us. Just like that. But I respect your decision- even if it's shitty. Maybe that's all rockstars are is shitty. So there. You're shitty and I wish we never met. I hope you're happy.
Best of luck with everything. I love you.
Y/N.
-
And just like that. It was over. The silence from Slash over the past two months was only an added pain to the hell you already endured. For your own sanity, hope was crushing you and you had to give it up. Your parents had called once, but the nuns ensured you weren’t telling them the truth of what it was like there. As quickly as it all unraveled, you sank into your new reality. Pushing out thoughts of escape as the former attempts were futile and had only ended in harsher and harsher punishment .
It was colder now into early November. Other girls had come and gone periodically, none staying long enough for it to be worth harboring any sort of relationship. You spent your days in the day room, a dim, sulky living room type space in the center of the building. Empty tables with broken chess pieces and puzzles with missing pieces scattered. You took throne to an old green chair by the large window.
One person you had managed to form any sort of connection with was the oldest nun in the practice, Sister Graham. She seemed worn down and tired of it all, due to her age, and lack of violence and stern, she’d been demoted down to a secretarial duty. She’d find reasons to come and talk to you when she could. Small but meaningful conversations. The two of you formed a secret bond of hatred for this place. A mutual understanding that this was all that was left for both of you. She’d share bits of her life before she became a nun. She had been sent away at the age of 16 after running away from an arranged marriage to a man 20 years her senior at the time. You felt sad for her, sorry for her, confused as to why she remained here. You told her about your past, how you ended up there. You even opened up to her about Slash and the magical summer you had. She seemed to appreciate the glimmer that became of you when you spoke of it all. Like she understood what it meant to feel young and in love. What it felt like to feel misunderstood and suffocated by the normalcy of the world. She made you feel special amidst it all. And then, one day, she was gone. You waited all week for her to show.
You prodded at nuns all morning as to where she was, “did she die?” “Did she retire?” “Is she sick?” You skipped around. Each question was met with harsh and rude snaps of silence and threatening looks. The confusion and hurt flatlined you again. Back to nothingness. You shifted in bed, staring at the ceiling, images of Slash, summer, everything, bleeding through your mind like a movie. The anger of his silence, the hurt, the betrayal, all of it stung within you so badly. Allowing it to get to you, you angrily chuck your pillow to the other side of the room with a frustrated sob. Feathers bust out of the pillow, completely ruining it. You came to your senses quickly with regret and knelt over the pillow to pick up the discarded feathers. You hadn’t changed your pillow case this week, and now you’ve broken the pillow altogether. Great. It was sure you’d get punished for this in the morning. Your hand brushes against a piece of paper as you sift through the feathers. That’s odd- where did this come from? You pick it up and it appears to be a small folded note. You take a precautious look at your door before unfolding it.
“R. 308
Nov. 21. 8pm to west wing parking lot.”
What the hell? You don’t recall writing this down. This was clearly stuffed in your pillow case. When? Why? What does it mean? Did someone put this here? Your heart beat with confusion, apprehensive to feel any sort of excitement at fear of being disappointed again. It was late, and there was seldom to do with this new information except to sleep on it. So you did.
Surely enough, as you had predicted, the nuns took notice of your destroyed pillow and sentenced you to janitorial duties for the entire day. You scrubbed away at the hallway at the end of the wing. Dragging your bucket of dirty water like a gross companion. You grumbled to yourself as you mopped. Suddenly a sister enters the hallway from out of a room and almost slips on the fresh wet floor. She gives a stabbing glare.
“Well hurry it up and get it finished so you’re not such a hazard girl.” She snarks as she walks away. You want to bark back but you know better. The room she had left was left cracked. You stared at the door with curiosity before noticing the room number plaque before you .
“Room 308”.
Wait a minute. R308? Like the note? You take yet another precautious glance behind you to the empty hall to ensure no one would see you now sneak yourself into the room.
Surely there’s something of importance in here? It appeared to be some sort of administrative office. Piles of papers decorated the entire room. You strolled around carefully eying everything. This is a mail room, this is all mail? This is all patient mail, no? It is. How interesting? Why’s there so much in here? Your eyes scan and roll over a large stack prominently sticking out of a box on the desk. You recognize the stationary and realize it to be some of your own letters to slash. What the hell? You start shuffling through the box in a greater panic and confusion. These were all supposed to be sent out, sent to Slash! Were none of them ever mailed?! Your heart dropped to your stomach and your chest tightened.
You wanted to stay longer, to further examine and investigate this, but the reality was clear. No letters written had been sent to anyone. They lied. You hurriedly skimmed through the pile to see if any had come in from Slash but you only saw the ones you wrote. All of them opened too. They’ve just been reading them and keeping them….
Before you could sulk, you quietly exited the room to ensure no one saw you sneaking in there. Clearly you were not supposed to know this. Rage, Hurt, Confusion, coiled inside you once more. All this time? Out of all the emotions rushing through you at that moment, the scariest one was now hope. Hope again filtered into you. Maybe Slash had never ignored you. Maybe he just didn’t know where to write!
After returning to your room that evening, you re read the obscure note once more.
“Nov 21”
That’s tomorrow. Nov 21st is tomorrow. Someone wants me to go to the west parking lot at 8pm tomorrow. But who? And why?
Synopsis: After a sheltered Y/N becomes obsessed with rock music, the safe and calculated world she once knew begins to crumble around her. After a taste of rebellion slips her way, and an all too mysterious guitar player begins wooing her, she must navigate her new world of the LA rock scene, and her hunger for mischief.
TW: Smut, Drug/Alcohol use/brief suggestions of SA(will be marked on chapter)
NOTE: This plans to be a long fic but it’s going to be good I promise. Updates every week! Thank you for your time and patience! <3
The anticipation of seeing Slash again was completely palpable. You bee lined your way to the stage door. A familiar sight of a dark alleyway surrounded by shady figures. But this time you felt less….afraid. All you could think about was him. You felt brave enough to let yourself in the stage door after a random crew member leaves and you slip your way inside. The backstage was a dark seedy cavern of chaos and crewmen. You feel a large heavy grip on your shoulder. You turn around hoping it’s him but are disappointed to see a large intimidating bouncer. “No groupies back here girl. “ he bellows. “It’s cool she’s with me.” A voice says from behind him. The bouncer doesn’t care much to verify that and walks away. “Looks like you found your own way in then.” He smirks as he approaches you. He’s almost stunned and takes a second to examine your obvious style change. His eyes eat up your body from head to toe and you blush. You pull nervously at the edge of your mini dress. Almost confident but not quite. “Look at you Foxey…” He says quietly eyeing you. As much as you want to be simply eye candy, you want to get to the bottom of his query of inviting you tonight. You nervously cross your arms. “So….you called…” you start
“I called.” He confirms cheekily, still eyeing you.
You shift anxiously. “ ….so?”
“So?” He replied again even cheekier.
“Soooo- is there something you wanted to tell me or?” You pry, desperate for answers.
“Does there have to be something to say? Cant a guy just want to see a pretty girl?” He replies boldly smirking down at you as he walks closer.
You nervously look around the two of you to confirm no one is witnessing this private moment.
“Follow me.” He turns sharply and heads to the back of the stage. This backstage was different. It was larger and had rooms. Private dressing rooms. While not fancy by any means. You follow discreetly behind him into a main sitting area where the rest of the band was passing around a bottle of whiskey. You join them. Slash taking a widespread seat on the couch and pulls you on his lap. This time, less layers of clothing lie between you and him. You could feel him underneath you. Hard.
Knowing and feeling this gave you a jolt of electricity and heat in the pit of your stomach. Did you sitting on his lap feel good to him?
“Our groupie returns!” Axl proclaims excitedly. “Fuck you.” Slash laughs. “Oh Right boys, this is slashes special toy, don’t be messin with her now or Slash will kill you in your sleep!” They joke. You wonder if they are at all serious. Special toy?
Slash snakes his arm around your waist from behind and holds you on him. This touch gives you butterflies. You need more of this, of his touch. As the conversation peters onward you can’t help but want things to go in a different direction. You start making small adjustments on his lap, slight shifts in movement that gave friction to him. You can tell it startled him in a good way and he tightens his grasp around your waist in response. He felt good underneath you like this. While you had never been sexual with a man before, all of this felt and flowed naturally for you.
You got more brave and decided to start tracing the denim seam on the outside hip of his jeans. A simple yet effective choice. You wanted him to know what you wanted but were too shy to say. What you’ve been wanting. The rest of the group too drunk or pumped up to notice or care, the backstage lights low gave way to much more freedom in the low light. As the conversation loudly carried on, the two of you slip into your own exchange. He leans you back on him so that his mouth is next to your ear. His warm, cigarette flavored breath heavy on your ear as he whispered to you. “Need something Foxey?” He whispers sultry. His words and cadence makes you weak. A feeling of warmth between your legs as his words warmed your ear. You can’t help but smile mischievously. Torn between the nerves of having never gone to such sexual lengths with a guy before and the animalistic ferocity that was taking you by storm.
You look to him. He looks at you with a bloodthirsty gaze. The two of you in a mutual agreement of sorts. He returns back into the conversation at hand. His hand wrapped at your waist begins drawing little circles in the side of your dress. Casual to any outside but agonizing to you. His reply in this little game. The group is getting up to go somewhere. “We’re gonna hit, you coming?” They ask as they all round up to visit the bathroom together. “We’re gonna hang back.” Slash says. Once they file out of sight it takes Slash all of one second to get off the couch and lifts you up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You let out a yelp of delight. “Slash!” You chirp as you laugh. Now what?
Slash doesn’t respond and proceeds to carry you down a dark hallway into a small dingy dressing room. He locks the door and as soon as he sets you down you’re up off your feet again and pressed up against the door by Slash. He lifts you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. “Slash!” You giggle again. Slash roughly presses his lips against yours. Sparks fly again. Harder now. His curls hiding your face into his in a little curtain. You melt into him. His touch is addictive. The way he holds you like your going to get away but that’s the last thing you want. He towers over you, cradling you entirely in his grip like it’s nothing. His hands grip your ass hard and he lets out a heavy breath against your lips. “You know how long I’ve wanted you?” He growls. The two of you fall desperately deeper into the kiss. His wet tongue dominates your lips and slides its way into you. He tastes so good. One of his large hands slides it’s way up from your bottom to your waist, and then up your side and finally, hugging over your breast. You let out a soft moan of pleasure. Something he had been imagining in his own head for some time. How you looked, how you sounded…He smiles viciously. “God I need you to do that again for me sweetheart.” He pants out in a frenzy and gives your breast another loving squeeze to which you oblige another soft moan out into his lips. He smirks again.
He shifts away from the door and carrys you over to a beaten down futon in the dressing room. Setting you down roughly. As he sets you down he stays low and comes to his knees, yet met you at your height sitting down. His large hands rested heavily on both your hips, he kisses you and then works his way with his lips and his hands down your chest, to your stomach, his hands slipping down your thighs, he firmly prys open your legs but for some reason, maybe due to the pure foreign nature of the action you reflex and slightly close them accidentally. This takes him aback and he looks up to you with a devilish grin turned concern. “What is it Foxey?” He asks while pecking sweet kisses on your knees. “Oh - sorry I don’t know why I - I - go ahead I-“ you stumble to find remedy. Slash looks at you in a total realization. “Foxey…have you ever…?” He asks. You shake your head shamefully. “Oh Foxey…” He coos sweetly and lowly. “Let me show you baby.” He continues without further conversation. You didn’t need convincing but hearing that helped you relax again and your body surrenders to his touch. He continues on and prys your legs open gently. It takes him all his strength to not completely devour you so quickly. He smooths his rough muscular hands up your inner thighs, mirror one another’s movement. He hikes your dress up further. Speckling sloppy wet kisses across your waistband and over the top of your panties. He looks up at you through a curtain of dark curls to watch you. “ I’m gonna make you feel so good baby, I just need you to do one thing for me.” He whispers and he slides down your panties and discards them. The cool air hitting you. “Yes Slash?” You ask with a breathy desperation. He smiles at your eagerness. “ I need you to moan for me baby.” He says and slides a finger inside of you effortlessly with the already slick wetness that had accumulated down there. You let out a soft gasp and moan. “Oh god!” You gasp. He smiles. “Good girl.” He smirks with barely an ounce of morality at his deflowering. He begins pumping his finger inside you. You feel something cold and realize it’s the finger with the snake ring. He never took it off. Nevermind that now. Pleasure swayed within you echoing through with each gentle pump inside you with his finger. “I wanna hear you baby.” He whispers desperate to hear your moans and adds a second finger. It only hurts for a moment but the pain turns to pure pleasure. He’s not hard with it, just soft gentle pumps into you like he’s fingering a guitar. You let out another moan. He exits you with a grin and climbs up to you, leaning you back onto the couch. He brings his wet fingers to your mouth. “Open up Foxey.” You obey his sweet command and he sticks his fingers into your mouth softly. “Suck” He commands in a low gravelly tone. His eyes piercing you as he watches through darkened eyes. You obey again. “You taste so good huh.” He affirms. This seemingly strange action gave you coils of hot sparks through you. You keep eye contact with him while you wrap your tongue around his fingers and suck generously. He returns to you below and this time flattens his tongue across your lips in one long broad stroke. You throw your head back again and let out a moan of surprise and pleasure. “Slash.” You moan.
Your voice moaning out his name drove him to his limit. He stood up and unbuckled his jeans. You take off your jacket and hike your dress up further. Need more of him. “I want you inside me. Please.” You blurt out in a breath. As if you even had to ask. He smirks devilishly at your admittance. “Just do it just go.” You beg. You’ve never wanted anything more. He pulls your towards him with your legs wrapped around him . In an instant you feel him push into you. Pain and pleasure spark out of you. “Fuck” You moan out. He lets out a sharp breathy groan and throws his head back and pushes his hair back although it falls back over him immediately. “You feel so fucking good Foxey girl.” He groans out. He slowly begins pumping in and out of you. Watching for signs of displeasure from you but all you feel is ecstasy. He throws his shirt off, exposing his sweaty happy trail to which you could now finally see where it led to and it was in-fact- happiness. His abdomen glistening again with sweaty specks. He looked so good on top of you. Thrusting into you faster and faster. He leans down and cradles your head in his hand while holding himself up with the other he rests it forehead atop yours as the frequency increases bigger and bigger. The two of you moan in harmonious rhythms, he rocks his hips into you. This incredible dance of rough and romance. His moans sound so pretty. His curls swayed with every thrust into you.
You both pant heavily into each others faces as knots of pleasure twist inside both of you. “Here.” He pants out like a dog and reaches his fingers down over your clit. The added stimulation sending lightning strikes down your legs. You start to feel yourself tensing up and be did too. “Slash-“ You pant out softly. “I-“ you don’t succeed in your speaking before stars are spinning through you. “Oh fuck-“ You cry out. He cradles your head through it and watches you squirm underneath him in pleasure. You dig your nails into his back. He doesn’t stop. As you begin to descend slightly, the sight of you underneath him. Everything. You, the way you moaned his name, the way you dressed, the way you looked, spoke, laughed, walked. All of his deep seeded infatuations with you built up finally coming to a grand release. He lets out a concealed rough grunt and quickly exits you as white hot spurts out over your legs. Still dizzied with pleasure, you watch. He finally halts and slightly collapses himself onto you. The two of you stay silent, staring into one another’s eyes, catching your breath. You had never felt so connected to something in your life like him, like this.
“What’d you think Foxey?” He asks smirking arrogantly. You blush as you come to your senses. Slightly embarrassed by the scene you made. “It was..so good.” You grin. This makes him happy and he comes back down to you and gives you a hot exhausted kiss. “God I could kill for a cigarette right now” you laugh at that sentence coming from your own mouth. He laughs and gets up. Before his pants are even fully buckled he’s got a lit cigarette in between his lips again and passes it to you, you take a big inhale and total cool bathed your entirety. You stay half naked lying down, staring at him and the smoke leaving your lips. “Do you think anyone heard that?” You ask him. To which he chuckles - “probably.”
Trying to figure out how to make this my main primary blog. Just realized I’m following and interacting on my other blog which is tec my main hmmmmm I only use this oneeeee ugh
I HAVE MOVED TO MY MAIN. PLEASE FOLLOW GINSENGKITTEN FOR UPDATES. STORY WILL CONTINUE THERE. <3
☆ Beautiful Dangerous Master post ☆
༺☆༻
Synopsis: After a sheltered Y/N becomes obsessed with rock music, the safe and calculated world she once knew begins to crumble around her. After a taste of rebellion slips her way, and an all too mysterious guitar player begins wooing her, she must navigate her new world of the LA rock scene, and her hunger for mischief.
