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vincess-princess · 1 day

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in darkness shall you be reborn

Chapter 17

Word count: 3741 Warnings: slightly nsfw A/N: the worst of school is over so have a celebratory update

It’s been three days and Nikki still hadn’t gotten back to him.

It was good, of course. Vince’s knees grew a scab and itched violently, and he could barely hold back from scratching on it, knowing it would nullify all the healing process. The shoulder injury, thankfully, seemed to heal well: the inflammation around it almost went away.

Vince wished Nikki just did it already. He jumped at any steps behind the galley door, whenever he was on deck he avoided looking in Nikki’s direction, and every time Vince had to hand the captain his plate everything froze in him. Waiting was worse than just going through it: a couple hours were not even close to days of anxiety so strong his hands were constantly trembling, threatening to drop whatever he was holding.

The bout of shame in Mick went away as quickly as it came. He was just as cold and sardonic, and no amount of appeasement could get through to him. The atmosphere in the galley quickly became unbearable: Mick only spoke to bark out orders and scold Vince for smallest mistakes. Whatever Vince did, it was never good enough. He lost the only person on board who treated him with a shred of kindness, and now, despite the hot breezes and scorching sun of the Atlantic ocean, he was constantly shivering. Axl pretended they didn’t know each other, Izzy was constantly in sick bay, Slash could only tell him a couple of words during meals, and even Tommy barely spared Vince a look and scarcely any sleazy remarks. Everyone on the ship seemed too busy to pay him any attention, but fragments of conversations Vince caught he couldn’t piece together. The only thing he knew was that something was coming.

Then, one day, Tommy came to the galley.

“Mick. We need you in the cabin.”

“Oh.” Mick rose from his bed, where he was lazily stringing his guitar while Vince slaved over the pile of dishes. “Already?”

“Yeah.”

“What – already?” Vince couldn’t help but ask. He felt like a conspiracy was unfolding around him.

“None of your business, doll. You keep on with the dishes.”

Of course. What other answer could he get?

“After you’re done with dishes, peel potatoes. At least fifteen. And don’t cut off half of it with the skin!” Mick ordered.

“Yessir,” Vince sighed.

Alright. They want to keep secrets from him? Well, good luck with that.

He waited a bit after Mick and Tommy were gone, splashing the water in the bucket especially loudly, and then creeped across the galley to the door. He waited by it a bit, putting his ear to the keyhole, but didn’t hear anything. Then he carefully pressed on the doorknob.

It stopped halfway down. Locked! They locked him in! Bastards!

Maybe, Vince had to admit when he disappointedly returned to the dishes, they have learned more about his character than he wanted them to. He should be more discreet.

From the galley he could only hear splashing of the waves. Then a vibration went through the ship, and the constant movement that could be felt even inside it ceased. Have they arrived somewhere? Was that why they locked him in – didn’t want him to escape?

But Vince behaved well in Port Royal. And hadn’t given any reason to doubt his submission since then. That meant they still didn’t trust him enough. That he needed to act better, pretend harder. But he was already at his limit. The next stage would be fawning for Nikki, and he couldn’t imagine that even in his worst nightmares.

Dismay washed over him. Whatever he did, it was never enough.

He could hear the pirates on deck yelling something, dropping heavy things and running around. His curiosity was burning him from the inside. Potatoes also refused to cooperate, which only added insult to injury.

Then everything went quiet. Not the average quiet. Even the waves seemed to calm down, the ship almost still in the water. Like the world was listening to something Vince couldn’t hear. And it was driving him nuts.

It lasted fairly long – Vince peeled all the potatoes, even sliced them out of boredom. He returned to the door in a futile attempt to hear anything. Then his gaze fell on the knife he was holding in his hand. Hm, the tip was pretty thin…

He was so consumed with trying to push the tip of the knife through the lock he only heard voices when they were right behind the door. He staggered back and landed right on his behind, knife in hand.

That’s how Mick and Tommy found him.

“Oh, someone’s been trying to get out?” Tommy grinned unpleasantly and turned to Mick. “Looks like we’ll have to secure him better the next time.”

“Yeah,” Mick said, looking at Vince from under half-closed eyelids. “Looks like I was too hasty to trust him with a knife, too.”

He stretched out a hand, and Vince obediently handed him the knife. He couldn’t justify his actions in any way, really, so he didn’t even try.

“Make sure he doesn’t leave the galley, Mick,” Tommy continued as if Vince wasn’t there. “I’ll get you some… tools for that.”

“I will.”

Tommy left, leaving behind more questions than answers. Bitterness filled Vince’s chest. What did he do that warranted such a punishment? Last three days he’d been on his best behavior. While Mick didn’t seem to soften towards him in a slightest and scolded him for every little mistake, even those were getting less frequent. Vince didn’t touch the weapons, didn’t talk rude to anyone and did what he was told. What was it then?

“What are you punishing me for?” he asked, hurt and anger mixing inside him.

Mick looked at him gloomily.

“Existing,” he said then and turned away, and no further questioning managed to get something else out of him. It was as if Vince was talking to a wall. Eventually he gave up trying, being left alone with his thoughts.

Not allowed on deck. No feeling the sun’s hot rays on his face and warm breezes on his skin. Was it for long? Was it connected to the strange occurrence of today? And what “tool” were they talking about?

He had his dinner all alone in the galley that day. On the one hand, he didn’t have to avoid Nikki’s gazes again. On the other, he couldn’t even exchange a couple words with anyone. Not that he had a lot of friends on the Shout, but Slash and Duff were rather friendly towards him, Axl too when they were alone, Tommy’s jokes were sometimes funny and even Izzy nodded to him those rare times he left his cave. The only person remaining in the galley was Mick, and he didn’t seem too eager to take mercy on Vince. It was like cohabitating in an extremely tiny space with a very angry hedgehog. And even he was absent now, handing out portions on deck. Upon his return, Vince knew, he’d have to wash a damn lot of dishes.

When Mick returned and placed a tall pile of plates on the counter, Vince decided to try again.

“Mick,” he said carefully, “please, tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing that concerns you.” Mick cut off.

“If it didn’t concern me, you wouldn’t lock me up in the galley.”

“Alright, I’ll phrase is differently.” Mick rolled his eyes. “Nothing that we consider you fit to learn about.”

“So it does concern me,” Vince concluded. Judging by the shift in Mick’s expression, he was right. Unfortunately, the shift was from mildly irritated to outright angry.

Mick stretched out his hand and, before Vince realized what he was about to do, grabbed him by the hair and dragged closer. Was he Nikki, Vince would have been prepared to such a sudden violent outburst. But that was Mick.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, punk,” he hissed in Vince’s ear. “There are things that slaves don’t need to know. Remember, curiosity killed the cat.” And he pushed Vince away so hard he staggered back and crashed into the wall.

Mick turned around and stormed out of the galley, leaving Vince alone again. He slid down the wall onto the floor.

The hair yank didn’t hurt much, but Vince would prefer Nikki beating him up half-dead. Maybe Mick wasn’t so different from other pirates after all.

Mick returned very late: Vince had already done all the work and laid down to sleep, wrapping himself in a ragged blanket. When Mick came through the door, Vince pretended he was asleep. Mick lingered in the door - a typical chill that his gaze always caused ran down Vince’s spine - and sneaked to his bed. After some tossing and turning he went quiet.

No, all that fuss was definitely about Vince. Or about something the pirates really didn’t want him to know. Which meant he absolutely had to find out what it was.

Next morning the ship set sail again and swayed on the waves as usual. Mick locked him in the galley again during breakfast, this time taking the knife with him. At this point Vince was so sick of small spaces that the walls seemed to close in on him. But no amount of fiddling with the lock yielded any results. Maybe the locks on the door of the galley were made sturdier on purpose, to keep the pirates away from the alcohol stash?

Mick returned with a load of dishes and orders. He left the galley door unlocked when he was inside, but Vince didn’t dare to take even a smallest extra step towards the door. It might seem Mick wasn’t watching him, but that was only an illusion.

After what seemed like eternity but was likely just a couple hours Axl walked into the galley.

“Hey, Mick,” he said, not sparing Vince a single glance, “the captain wants a mug of beer.”

“Pour him one,” Mick ordered to Vince. Vince hurried to do the task. He tried to catch Axl’s gaze, but the ginger pointedly stared above his head. Warm beer foamed in the mug.

“I’m needed on deck,” Axl said suddenly. “Send the boy over with the beer.”

And he shot Vince a quick glance.

Mick narrowed his eyes. “If you’re so busy, why’d he send you then?”

“I was the closest,” Axl said calmly. “But the wind’s changing, I gotta be up there. Don’t have time to be a delivery guy, sorry.”

“I’ll do it then.” Mick rose from the bed. Axl’s lower lip twitched.

Then he smiled wide. “You’re even less of a delivery guy than me, Mick. Save yourself the trouble. We’ve got a perfect man for the job right here.”

“The slave ain’t leaving the galley,” Mick cut off, approached and grabbed the mug.

Axl frowned. “Why? Did he do something?”

“Yeah.” Every inch of Mick’s face signaled that he didn’t want the conversation to continue, and Axl seemingly decided not to tempt fate anymore.

“As you wish.” He shrugged and headed to the door after Mick, but in the second when the cook disappeared behind it turned back to Vince. His face was saying: “I tried.”

Well, at least someone noticed his absence, Vince thought bitterly. The lock behind Axl clicked. For God’s sake, Mick would be absent just for a couple minutes! What harm would Vince be able to cause in that time that demanded locking him in?

By lunch he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mick.” Vince lowered a plate on the table with an audible bang to attract his attention. Mick raised his gaze, surprised.

“Huh?”

“If I don’t use the head right now, I’m gonna take a shit right in your favorite pot.”

Up until now he made do with an empty bottle of rum he found behind the counter, but this time it wouldn’t work.

Vince watched Mick’s face go through a series of expression, from confused to annoyed.

“Damn it. I haven’t considered that,” he muttered.

“You should. The clock is ticking.” Vince usually didn’t talk to Mick like that, but it was an emergency.

“But you can’t-“ Mick paused, thinking. “What if I just- no, he’d contaminate the food,” he murmured to himself. Of course, he wouldn’t let Vince do it right in his beloved galley. Even if it wasn’t in his favorite pot.

“Mick. I can’t hold it much longer,” he said. It was almost true. He wanted to check something – to see how long Mick would hesitate. What was more important to him – his precious galley or the secret they were trying to keep from Vince?

The galley won, as Vince expected.

“Fine.” Mick rose from his bed. “I’m going with you. No lingering. And-“ he bent over his chest and pulled out a bandana, “come here.”

When his hands again touched Vince’s hair, he flinched. But Mick just gathered stray strands together, tucked his hair behind his back under the fabric of his shirt and tied the bandana over Vince’s head. “Now that’s better.”

“Why’d you-“ Vince reached for the bandana, but Mick slapped his hand away.

“No talking. No looking around. There and back. And if the captain sees us… you’ll have it bad. Not me. You.”

“As always,” Vince grumbled, following Mick to the door. Curiosity tormented him almost as bad as his physical desires.

But the deck looked as usual. The pirates were working and quietly chatting, the sails fluttered in the wind, the waves gently parted in front of the Shout. Neither Tommy nor Nikki were on deck, and Mick seemed relieved as much as Vince was. Maybe they were having sex in the captain’s cabin right now, he thought. Well, good luck to them.

“Go, go, go,” Mick hissed, dragging Vince to the head. There he stood in front of him, depriving him of the smallest shred of privacy, for the whole process. Not that it bothered Vince much at this point, but that was something he expected from any pirate but Mick. He seemed… more civil than the rest. Well, had seemed.

“Quicker!” Mick barked, looking around anxiously. Vince didn’t have to be told twice: he was already doing his best. Mick barely gave him time to pull up his pants, grasped him by the arm and dragged back to the hatch.

Before he pushed Vince in, Vince turned his head to catch the last breath of fresh air and noticed a silhouette on the horizon.

Another ship.

***

Another night passed. Vince tried to play the bowel movements card again in the evening, but this time Mick was adamant. You keep on shitting like a horse, he said, I’ll just stop feeding you. Vince didn’t ask anymore.

He had a solitary breakfast in the galley again. Well, it could barely be called that. Mick took the porridge with him, leaving Vince with a stale crust of bread and a thin piece of cheese. But Vince had already learned to appreciate the smallest things. It was better than nothing, after all, and it sated his growling stomach for a while.

He wondered how long he would be kept a prisoner of the galley. At this point he wasn’t even scared of being summoned by Nikki anymore. It would be a change of scenery, at least, and he might be able to learn something about the ship on the horizon. Vince was pretty sure it wasn’t an illusion or hallucination: as many reasons as he had to distrust his own judgement, he still trusted his eyes.

The lock clicked. Vince raised his eyes, expecting Mick to barge in with a pile of plates, but it wasn’t him.

It was Nikki.

Vince’s throat went dry. He shouldn’t have thought about him so carelessly. Fate struck back immediately.

Now that the captain was again in front of him, Vince remembered every detail, every word; they went foggy in his memory over these days, and now he wasn’t sure he’d still prefer Nikki to the imprisonment in the galley. Apparently, though, he got both.

And… a chain with a cuff and a lock in Nikki’s hands. Was that for Vince?

“Vinnie.” Nikki sent him a toothy smile. “Idling again, you spoiled brat?”

“Sir.” Vince bowed his head, avoiding looking at the captain. “Mick hasn’t left any orders.”

“When he comes back, I’ll make sure to fix that,” Nikki promised, coming up to the counter. Vince, who was sitting on his bed, tensed up. Nikki looked much fresher than the last time Vince saw him, but there was a strange sharpness in his movements, very much unlike his usual lazy manner. Like he was vigilant for something.

“You won’t have to, he does that just fine himself.”

“Judging by your audacity, not enough.” Nikki carefully lay the chain on the counter, straightened it, moved the cuff slightly and tilted his head, enjoying the view. Vince knew this whole performance was for him. Now there was no doubt who the chain was intended for.

What did I do to deserve this, a bitter thought once again crossed his mind. Did he not satisfy Nikki enough? But it was Nikki who hadn’t summoned him all these days. Was Vince supposed to take the lead? No way in hell.

Nikki moved so close to him his boots were inches from Vince’s face. Vince shrank his head into his shoulders, expecting a kick. But Nikki got down on his knees and was now at face level with him. Vince didn’t feel much safer, though.

“Nice bandana,” he said. Vince had decided not to take it off because it really helped get his hair out of the way when cooking, but now he regretted it. What if Nikki guessed Mick once let him out of the galley? “Where’d you get it?”

“Mick gave it to me. To keep hair out of the eyes.”

Well, it was fifty percent true. Could be worse.

“Good. I’m tired of pulling blonde hair out of my soup.” Nikki reached out his hand and cupped Vince’s jaw, almost gently. A chill ran down Vince’s spine. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. Did you miss me?”

Oh, the question with no right answers. So Vince said nothing.

“Well?” Nikki’s grip on his chin tightened.

“You know the answer,” Vince murmured. He expected a violent reaction, but Nikki just smiled.

“I do.” He stood up and signed to Vince to do the same. Vince mustered up his courage. He had to learn what was going on, and nobody knew that better than Nikki.

“Sir,” he began, “what did I do wrong?”

“You?” Nikki said thoughtfully. “Do you want it in alphabetical order or by date?”

“What did I do wrong to deserve this?” Vince clarified. His stomach cramped from anxiety. “I haven’t seen the light of day for three days, and I have no idea why. If that’s a punishment, then it’s not very effective if I don’t know what I’m being punished for.”

“That’s the point.” Nikki grinned. “You should very carefully consider everything you did and make your own conclusions. You ain’t got a governess anymore: you gotta think on your own.”

He was evading answers like an eel in a pond evades capture. So Vince decided to try another tactics.

“Sir,” he said as piteously as he could, “please. I just want to not have to piss into a bottle. Please tell me how I can fix my mistakes.”

Nikki grinned again, and Vince didn’t like that grin at all.

Then he was bent face down over the counter, right next to the chain, cheek pressing into cool wood, a knee between his thighs. Nikki wrung his arm up behind his back so that any movement caused Vince pain, and he could do nothing else but stay still and listen to Nikki’s heavy breathing that warmed the skin of his neck. That was the only way it was going to go, he mused unexpectedly calmly. Finally Nikki came to collect the debt.

“The view is very nice from up here,” Nikki purred. His warm hand slid into Vince’s pants and squeezed his buttock. Vince inhaled sharply. “You know what would make it nicer, though?”

Vince felt fingers untying the bandana on his head. Then the fabric wrapped around his throat. Nikki slowly pulled up the ends of it until Vince’s arm pressed into his chest, then planted a wet kiss under Vince’s ear.

“You scream or cry – I’ll shove this rag into your mouth,” Nikki whispered into his ear. “I want you to be quiet and docile and take everything I do to you like a good boy. You do that – you’ll go back on deck. Agreed?”

“What, right here?” Vince whispered back.

“Yeah, why not? Not like you’re cooking anything anyway.”

“But Mick won’t-“

The door opened. There he stood, his guardian angel: Mick himself. Very, very pissed guardian angel.

“He’s here!” he threw to someone behind his shoulder. When Mick stepped forward, Vince recognized Tommy.

“What the hell, Sixx!” he said indignantly. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“I’m kinda busy here,” Nikki replied, displeased. “Can’t a man get some rest?”

“Right now? You’re nuts, dude.” Tommy crossed his arms on his chest. “Hetfield was looking for you. Wanted to go over the plan one more time.”

“We’ve done it like a hundred times already,” Nikki said through his teeth but released Vince. The bandana fell to the floor, and Vince dropped on his knees and crawled away, back to his bed, grabbing it on his way. Who the hell was Hetfield? And what plan were they talking about?

“You two are such killjoys,” Nikki grumbled. Then he turned to Vince and, seeing him crouch on his blanket, smiled.

They headed to the door, but then Nikki stopped, as if he remembered something.

“Oh yeah. I forgot.” He returned to the counter and picked up the chain, shattering Vince’s hopes that he’d forget. “Your hand.”

Vince didn’t move. It didn’t have any effect of Nikki, though. He bent down to him, grabbed him by the left arm and dragged to the wooden post in the middle of the galley. Vince didn’t resist. What was the point?

Nikki chained him to it and stepped back, smiling. Vince gave him a sullen look.

He, Mick and Tommy turned around and left, leaving Vince with more questions than answers and rage bubbling inside his chest.

#motley crue #nikki sixx #motley crue fanfiction #tommy lee #vince neil #my writing #vinikki #mick mars #in darkness shall you be reborn #pirate au #motley crue fanfic #axl rose #everyone is being mean to poor vince in this one #for no understandable reasons #and don't let him go poop :(

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angelllbby222 · 3 days

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Conflicted Chapter 20🎀:

Maddy P.O.V :

I stormed out of the bathroom, heading directly for Axl.

He told everyone in the band, which was different than telling his girlfriend something so personal about me.

And Izzy’s ex…that was where I drew the line.

“Axl!" I yelled, watching him pause in the middle of a conversation with their manager and turn his attention to me, lifting an eyebrow at my grumpy attitude.

“You told your girlfriend that you’re in love with me?!?”

"What are you saying Maddy? And keep it down," he clinched his teeth as he led me into a secluded area away from the crowd.

“Angela told me that Erin knows that you're in love with me," supposedly." I scoffed, angered by his casual demeanor, knowing he was the one propagating our private secrets out to the general public.

"I never told Erin anything, Maddy. I swear. I'm not sure why she would say that," he murmured to himself, standing there with his hands on his hips, wondering what he had done to make Erin feel that way.

I stormed away, unaware that Erin was watching us, perplexed, given the fact that they claimed the two were good friends, but based on their recent chat, it seemed as though the two were a couple fighting only adding to her theory.

Which was that her boyfriend was in love with the bassist’s sister.

“Maddy where have you been." Duff asked, already on his fourth drink of the night, banging down on the bar counter for more.

“I've been gone. Not that you would care." I spat, irritated by his intoxicated conduct and the fact that he couldn't even hold a conversation with me, let alone Steven and Slash, and then there was Izzy, wait, there wasn't.

Where was Izzy?

"Hey have any of you seen Izzy?" I inquired with the three boys, who were completely wasted.

"I-z-zzz-y?..why are you t-two goin-g to fuck-k again?" Slash mumbled, smirking wildly at his choice of words,Duff barely noticed until he realized what he had said about his sister and Izzy.

“Shut the fuck up Slash!” the bassist shouted, immediately sobering up.

"Sweetie. Izzy is just over there." Steven pointed to a small area of the pub at a booth where Izzy was sitting with none other than Angela?

The way she giggled and slapped his chest made it seem like the two were having a funny conversation , and he smiled the entire time, not realizing how clear it was that she was flirting with him.

Angela instantly noticed me staring, which prompted Izzy to shift his head, but Angela caught it and kissed him forcefully, prompting him to back off and jump out of the seat.

"Maddy," he murmured to himself, noticing me observing the two and assuming the worst of what I saw.

He instantly raced over to me and explained what had happened, and I nodded, knowing he had done nothing wrong because I was actually standing there seeing Angela be a slut.

"Why does she like you so much? Why doesn't she go see Axl or Slash?" I wondered why she was constantly drawn to Izzy.

"She's been in love with me for a long time and I didn't feel the same way, so we became fuck buddies, but I got bored of her quickly, so I called it out, and she became heartbroken," he explained casually, as if it wasn't his first time leaving a female unhappy as a musician

"Oh." I responded instantly, feeling awful for the girl because I could easily be in the same situation.

It's possible that I'm already there without realizing it.

“I know what your thinking and no just drop it." He sighed, having dealt with enough, and approached his three wasted pals to participate in the fun.

I saw Axl emerge from the scene, an empty arm that no longer served Erin Everly, and he excitedly walked to his bandmates with a sneer on his face.

I had no choice but to join the guys because I had no other friends at all in the big city and I only knew them.

“The brat has joined us.” Axl scoffed, nonchalantly sipping a cool beer in direct contradiction to his drunken bandmates, notably Izzy.

He fell over the counter, almost dropping to the floor, when I caught him and moved him to rest his head on the counter.

“You'll be taking care of him like that for the rest of your life if you keep this relationship going," he whispered, taking little sips from his drink.

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s an addict and he’ll ruin your life too with his drugs.”

"Izzy's not an addict and I can take care of him perfectly fine." I naively defended, smoothing Izzy's hair away from his sweaty face.

“Yeah right.” he scoffed slipping off his stool to found someone to dance with.

"Izzy. Wake up, let's go home." I said to him, feeling his cheeks warm up to my touch and slumped over body.

"N-no just go without m-me." He murmured, fumbling over words and pushed me away with a rough hand.

“Baby, you don’t look so good. I think it’s better if I take you home.”

“Stop touching me!" he yelled, pushing me, causing me to trip on the liquid drink previously spilled on the floor and fall on the hard ground of the bar.

I shrieked, a crushing discomfort running through me and tears forming in my eyes, unable to hide the pain, looking up at Izzy to extend a hand, but he was so high on his drug of choice for the night that he didn't care.

"Maddy! "Are you ok?" I heard Axl call out to me, rushing up to pick me up.

“What happened!" Duff shouted and hurried over to me after seeing Axl kneeling down on the floor.

"I'm fine." I said, tears streaming down my cheeks, as I returned my gaze to Izzy, who was firmly placed on the counter, unconcerned about how he had treated me.

"That bastard. I'll fucking kill you for hurting my baby sister," he roared, grabbing Izzy's shirt and dragging him up to confront his towering frame.

“If you kill me, you'll hurt your sister even more," he replied, grinning at me.

“Fuck you motherfucker.” the bassist growled punching his band mate and knocking him down on his drunken state.

“Duff!” I squealed as I crouched down next to Izzy and his newly slit brow, which was streaming with blood.

"Leave him alone, Maddy. Let's go. Axl said this as he dragged me away from Izzy and picked me up in his arms.

"You just want to fuck her." Izzy mumbled under his breath, amused at Axl's concern for the girl he allegedly dislikes.

The Indiana native may not have heard because he did not intervene, but if he had realized his long-time friend was making such a statement about the sweet girl, he would have knocked him out for good.

“That is it! I've seen enough today. You are not to see Izzy again, and I forbid you from going out with him or any other fucking musician from now on!" Duff yelled, and I could only nod, unable to find the correct words to explain what Izzy had just done.

We all got into Duff's car, Axl and I in the back, as Duff drove us to Axl's apartment.

I felt Axl interlace his fingers with mine, holding my hand in his while I slipped into sleep on his shoulder.

What I didn’t realize was that when I would wake up the next morning, Duff would have my things packed and a flight back to Seattle set out for me.

#axl rose #guns n roses #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy x reader #duff gnr #duff mckagan #gunsnfuckinroses #80’s rock #izzy stradlin #80’s music #izzy gnr #axl rose x reader #axl gnr #guns and roses #80’s aesthetic #rockstar gf #rockstar girlfriend #hard rock

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