Axl Rose Fanfic - Blog Posts

why is no one writing Steven Tyler fanfics?

not one singular fanfic found about him on AO3 nor Tumblr, dafuq?

The one's that I've found are either gay or in chinese lmao

que viejo ridiculo, lo amo

Axl Rose:

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sunset Love ch.10: Not any more

Slash got to his knees over Axl, his legs still trembling as his orgasm dissipated. He placed a hand each side of Axl's head and propped himself on his palms, looking down on the other man's face. The cheap wooden boards of their makeshift loft scraped against his skin but the blissed-out feeling pooling throughout his body killed the discomfort.

To his surprise, Axl flipped himself over and got to his knees, too. Slash found himself looking down at Axl's bare back.

Then all other thoughts vanished from Slash's mind as he regarded the naked ass beneath him.

Yes, he had seen it often enough, encased in shiny black leather, on stage; he had even seen it mostly bare when Axl performed in his infamous assless chaps. He had never given it much thought before - he was usually so preoccupied with his playing, not to mention drunk or high, or both.

What had he been thinking? he asked himself. It was the curviest, tightest, most perfectly shaped ass he had ever seen.

He reached out a hand and stroked the soft, smooth buttocks, then lowered his head and pulled his lips and nose across the skin. With delight, he heard the other man's soft moans as he buried his face in the softness.

Axl turned his head to the side for a moment and said quietly, "I want to feel you inside me."

Slash's cock, already hard again, twitched at the words. He looked on in amazement as Axl arched his back so that his buttocks parted slightly, exposing his beautiful asshole. Slash moved his hips from side to side so that his cock, stiff and slick with precum, grazed off one buttock, then the other, a thread of shiny, sticky liquid connecting the tip of his cock to Axl's skin, while Axl groaned in pleasure.

Remembering his own pain moments before, Slash scooped a palmful of his own cum, still sticky on his belly, down to his cock and lubricated himself. He ran his fingers around Axl's hole and inside as well, adding spit for good measure, while Axl breathed raggedly and raised his ass higher in a silent plea.

Oh sweet fucking Christ, thought Slash as he finally pushed the gleaming, swollen tip of his cock against the opening of Axl's ass. The other man's skin was tight, yet yielding. Their moans mingled as Slash pushed oh so gently inside.

Fuck, Axl was tight, so much tighter than pussy; Slash felt his cock being squeezed hard; it was a weird sensation, still new to him, but it was fucking amazing. He had a hand on each of Axl's buttocks now, lightly keeping them apart to allow him to plunge himself farther, deeper, as the other man responded by pushing back against him. Slash withdrew slightly, then pushed in again, and again, till he was balls deep inside, his groin pressed against that perfect ass.

Slash felt a lump rise in his throat at the feeling that part of his body was literally inside Axl's, at how they were now as close as they could possibly be, their bodies fused. His head swam and he realised it was awe at the beauty of what they were doing, at the intimacy they were sharing. He buried his face in the warm skin between Axl's shoulder blades, glad that Axl couldn't see his face or the tears threatening in his eyes.

Slash felt for Axl's outstretched arms against the wooden boards and grasped the backs of Axl's hands, intertwining their fingers. His plunges were coming harder and faster, unstoppable now, his cock pulsing as Axl moved with every thrust; he felt Axl's insides clench around his length; he lost all control and cried out "Axl, Axl" as he emptied himself into his friend, exploding load after load into the beautiful body.

They collapsed, Slash chest-down on Axl's back. They lay, rib cages heaving, hands still entwined, panting, sweating, spent.

After a minute, Axl shifted and Slash rolled off him. They lay side by side on their backs, arms touching, sweat mingling. They looked each other full in the face. Slash's impulse was to look away but he forced himself to maintain eye contact. Axl's gaze was steady, unflinching, the green eyes turned grey in the dim light from the lamp on the floor below.

"That was - " said Axl, then stopped.

"I know," muttered Slash.

"What is this?"

"I don't fucking know," said Slash.

Another pause. The only sounds were their breathing, slowing gradually, and the distant hum of early-morning traffic. Slash slowly remembered that there was a world outside these four walls. He pushed the thought aside. He wanted to stay here, in their spell, inside.

The corners of Slash's mouth turned up as he recalled the previous evening. It seemed like an eternity ago. Had Axl really been jealous of some random chick Slash had hooked up with in the Whisky toilets? Had he really gone looking for Axl, determined to end this thing once and for all?

"You not jealous any more?" Slash said with a sly grin.

Axl smiled back.

"Guess not," he said, and turned his eyes up to the ceiling.

After a moment, Axl turned his face back to Slash and said, "I want to own you."

Slash didn't know what to say. There was no need. Axl leaned over, grabbed Slash's shoulders, pressed his lips to Slash's neck and began to suck, hard.

"Ow!"

Slash flinched and tried to pull back but Axl was holding him tight. After a few seconds, Axl let go and surveyed his work with a satisfied look.

"Did you just give me a hickey, motherfucker?" demanded Slash, rubbing the tender spot on his neck, not knowing whether to be pleased or outraged.

"I've marked you. That means you're mine," said Axl in such a deeply sexy voice that Slash couldn't be annoyed. His head and chest filled with what he guessed was happiness.

He leaned over and kissed Axl softly. Axl returned the kiss. They nestled into each other's arms and fell asleep.

Sunset Love, ch. 7: Not a glance

AN: It's been a while... the weather is shit today and I'm grumpy!! Thanks for coming back -- or coming for the first time. I try to make the parts work on their own as well as being part of a longer story. Hope you like this one. xx

The chick with the low-cut top standing at the side of the dance floor had been looking up at him since the start of their set. It was quite clear from her expression what was on her mind. In between his riffs and solos, Slash was keeping an eye on her from behind his hair on stage.  

It was 9 P.M. on a Tuesday night and the Whisky was almost empty. The night hadn't even really started yet. But this was what you did when you were an unknown band - you started at the bottom of the bill, early in the week.

To give him his due, Axl wasn't letting the sparse audience affect his performance. He was giving it his all, as he always did: shirt thrown aside, sweat gleaming in the stage lights, the muscles in his back tightening and relaxing along with his voice.

Slash had given up pretending to himself that he wasn't watching Axl every chance he got to do so unobserved. On stage - behind his guitar and his hair, the other guys absorbed in their playing - was the perfect place. That writhing, snake-like body, ink standing out against the whiteness of the skin, the black leather pants slung low around the hips, barely clinging on...

Axl rang out the closing notes of their new song, 'Don't Cry', and let them reverberate around the room. A few hesitant hand claps echoed around the walls and their set was over.

The girl was still there. They made eye contact again and Slash felt a rush to his groin. Relief flowed through him. He was still straight. Whatever was going on with Axl didn't make him a fag. He cocked his head towards the restroom door beside the stage and the girl gave a brief nod.

***

He buried his face in the girl's breasts and pulled her hips closer to his. She anchored her arms behind his neck and wrapped both her legs around his waist. The flimsy partitions in the Whisky toilets rattled as he began banging himself into her, pushing her against the wall to keep her up. It was skeezy but that was OK; he was into it and she certainly was too, thrusting her pelvis energetically against him and digging her nails into the skin on his back. He dragged his lips across her chest from one tit to the other, relishing the yielding softness, so different from...

He pulled his head up suddenly.

"What the fuck?" the girl gasped, her face in his shoulder. "Don't stop!"

Had he stopped? He resumed his frantic banging into her but was having trouble focusing on the task at hand. He'd been comparing this to ... how he felt doing the same thing with Axl. Jesus.

He squeezed his eyes tight and thank fucking Christ, he was about to come now... he exploded into her, clutching her buttocks tight to keep her in position. He kept thrusting til he was spent.

"Thanks, honey," he muttered, panting, as he let her down and hoisted his pants up. The girl grabbed some tissue and cleaned inside her thighs, looking none too happy.

"Yeah, really fucking great," she said, glaring. "What was that - like, twenty seconds?"

"Fuck you," he retorted, though he flushed inwardly. He knew he'd been selfish; he'd taken what he wanted from her and he just wanted to get out of there.

"Fuck YOU, asshole," she shouted and slammed the stall door behind her.

***

The next band was slamming out their first chords as he slunk out of the bathroom. More people were wandering in; cigarette smoke billowed, people's hands hung out over the balcony upstairs, some girls clustered against the front of the stage. Slash made out Duff, Izzy and Axl leaning against the bar at the other side of the room with their buddies West and Del, knocking back bottles of beer.

"Ah, here's the dirty dog," said Duff, grinning, holding out an arm as Slash approached. "Taking care of business, eh?"

They had all seen him disappear into the bathroom after the girl. The group chuckled indulgently, admiringly even.

Slash shrugged and flicked his eyes discreetly to Axl, as had become his habit. Axl was standing a little apart from the group, studying the band on stage intently. Slash mouthed 'Jack and coke' to the barman and checked back again. Yep, Axl was still acting like he wasn't there.

Slash sucked down his drink hungrily and signalled to the barman for another. He nodded along as Steven enthused to him about something, but he wasn't listening. Minutes passed and Axl's back remained firmly towards him.

Slash frowned in confusion. Sure, Axl was moody, and unexplained silences were a thing with him. This was one of those episodes, right? It couldn't be ... the girl, could it? Getting as much pussy as possible was one of their core aims as a band. Surely there was no way Axl was ... jealous?

At some point later, after several more drinks, Izzy flung his arm around Axl's shoulders, dragged him back to the group and forced him to clink bottles.

"Our position at the bottom of the bill continues uncontested!" exclaimed Izzy, lifting his drink into the air mock-heroically.

"How many was that tonight, four people?" mused Duff. "Two of them were our friends who we bribed with free beer -" he gestured to Del and West, who raised their drinks graciously - "One was that strung-out guy by the door who clearly hadn't a fucking clue where he was, and the other was that girl who just came to fuck Slash."

Axl looked away sharply, examining the ceiling. Everyone else was too drunk to notice, or care. But Slash knew now. It was the fucking girl.

"Better than our first gig," said Steve. "The Troubadour, before Seattle? Two people - the bar manager and that random guy who said he thought we were gonna be some other band?"

"Your fan base is growing, then," declared Del. "I call that progress." More cheering and clinking bottles.

Slash wanted to leave, wanted to get Axl on his own and demand to know what the fuck was going on, but the guys were in roaring form and the drinks were coming thick and fast. It was easier to just stay.  

The headlining band came on, the club had filled to capacity, bodies packed in, the music and noise deafening - and their collective cash had dried up.

"Back to the Sunset and Gardner Hotel and Villas!" roared Steve, throwing his arm around Slash's neck. Slash had loosened up a bit. The knots in his shoulders were relaxing and he could talk more. Thank fuck for that. He didn't care as much about things with plenty of alcohol on board. He headed for the door with the rest of them, not casting a glance at Axl.

***

AN: It took a while to get this part right. I really want to hear what you think of it - it's harder to write tension than the lovey-dovey stuff :) Please leave me a comment.