how soon is now? || w. a rose [i/v]

ANDY I

"What was the first thought you had when you met him?"

"Who, Axl, that he was hot as fuck"

"Sorry for the language from Miss Bernow."

"What it's true, surely that must've been your first thought when you saw him for the first time, he's gorgeous."

"So you didn't think of his voice, or his personality,"

"You're making me sound superficial. Of course he had all that, but I mean those bloody cheekbones,"

// Andy Bernow stating her first thought when meeting Axl Rose, 1990

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w. reference to nsfw

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Fuck he's beautiful, was the first thought Andy had looking at Axl Rose in the studio. Just like it had been when he walked in that bathroom last night. His beautiful copper strands glowing golden under the lights of the studio, the sculpture of his cheekbones and slope of his nose, but nothing compared to the emerald of his eyes, oh how they had shined when she'd looked into them.

And that was only talking about his face, the jut of his Adam's apple, the calluses over his knuckles and the smoothness of his skin when she dug his nails down it.

And fuck, the deep timbre of his voice, so different from his singing. The wild and untameable animalistic cries of his melodies, contrasting the deep mellows of his regular tone.

But, oh Christ, he was so good in bed.

'Definitely maybe' what a fucking lie, she was coming back tonight no matter what.

The heat of his fingers dragging themselves over her skin, delicately smoothing over her thighs, the entanglement of her hair, the clutching of her knee and the godly way he moved the pad of his thumb. The moment he touched her it felt like all her body had been set alight, all nerves standing on end and the absolute heaven she felt.

Heaven, no fucking way, it had to be hell from the sinful echoes that had escaped her.

And that was outside her body, she must have passed Hades the way he rolled and twisted his digits, she told him to keep up with her because God, it already felt like she had passed the finish line.

The way he had moved his body, snake his hands up and down her body like she was a sculpture, the electric shocks of his caresses, and how their bodies seemed to join into one for minute, like a collision of two stars.

She hadn't been ever asked to stay after either, most had immediately kicked her out of their beds. Or she kicked them out of hers.

He was so animalistic, the way his teeth clashed against her, the grip tightly grasping her thighs and his out of tempo rugged breaths, pushing down on the bed frame he felt so untameable and wild.

Yet he wrapped her soundly under the darkness of night, his nose pressed softly into her neck, which she had so easily leaned into. By sunrise, his pale skin and jade of his eyes seemingly glowed under the shards of light.

She'd had barely ever bothered to suck a guy off, but the way he had reacted to her touch and her dance of kisses, gently tangling her hair through his hands, or even how his arm had encompassed her tightly while sleeping, made watching him explode in explicits and his breaths be caught by the walls of the room, was so beautiful, so alluring.

Andy knew she could have easily slipped back under those sheets with him, aimlessly talking about whatever came to mind, or even just listening. Hearing the smile in his voice as he discussed Elton John's artistry, or his passion when he brought up the lyricism of Steven Tyler, the bright life shone in his eyes. Effortlessly, danced her palm over his chest and felt the gentle squeeze over her waist.