Which Path Are You Taking? 😈

OH YEAH ALL OF THEM ON TOP OF ME

DRUMMERS HIT IT HARDER.

GUITARISTS FINGER FASTER.

BASSISTS DO IT DEEPER.

SINGERS DO IT LOUDER.

@nenynra -Duff being so lovey dovey with the reader, it sounds embarassing, but he does it 'cause reader was having a bad day:)

𝕊𝕌𝕄𝕄𝔸ℝ𝕐: 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢—𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠. 𝙳𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚒𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔—𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝚞𝚗𝚜 𝙽’ 𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜’ 𝚍𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚢.

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚙 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

You weren’t having a bad day.

You were having a fucking awful day.

The kind of day where everything went wrong in ways you didn’t even think were possible. Spilled coffee, missed calls, that weird tension in your chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how many deep breaths you took. The kind of day where, by the time you made it home, you weren’t even sure if you were angry or just tired of being a person.

You were still sitting on the couch, curled up in your hoodie, staring at the wall when Duff walked in.

He took one look at you and sighed. “Shit, babe. That bad?”

You didn’t even answer—just let out a low, tired groan and let your head drop back against the cushions.

Duff smirked. “That bad, huh?”

You shot him a half-hearted glare. “Don’t mock me. I’ll cry.”

His smirk softened into something else. Something quieter. “Yeah?”

You nodded miserably. “Yeah.”

He didn’t say anything after that—just kicked off his boots and plopped down on the couch beside you. And, because Duff wasn’t the type to let you sit in your misery alone, he immediately stretched his arm over the back of the couch and tugged you into his side.

“C’mere.”

You let yourself fall against him, head resting on his shoulder, his warmth seeping into your skin. He smelled like leather and the faintest trace of cigarette smoke—comforting in a way you didn’t have words for.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t heavy, wasn’t awkward—it was just there, settling between you like an old song you both knew the words to.

After a while, Duff exhaled, rubbing slow circles into your back. “Wanna tell me what’s up?”

You shrugged against him. “Not really.”

“That bad?”

You nodded.

He was quiet for a second, then: “Wanna hear a story?”

You huffed out a small, tired laugh. “Is this gonna be some deep, profound Duff-ism?”

“Nah,” he murmured, grinning. “Just a stupid story.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Go for it.”

Duff adjusted slightly, getting comfortable, his fingers still tracing absentminded patterns against your arm. “Alright. So, 1987. We’re on tour, right? And everything’s fucking chaos. Like, pure shitshow levels of chaos. Izzy’s missing, Slash is already drunk, Axl’s threatening to kill someone—I don’t even remember who, just someone.”

You snorted. “So, a normal day?”

“Basically.” Duff chuckled, shaking his head. “Anyway, I’m having the worst fucking day. Just—hungover, exhausted, done with everyone’s bullshit. And then, right before we go on stage, I trip over my own fucking bass cable and wipe out in front of like, ten people.”

“Oh my God.”

“No, wait, it gets worse,” he groaned, clearly enjoying your reaction. “So, I hit the ground hard. Like, fully ate shit. And I swear to God, right as I’m lying there, questioning all my life choices, fucking Axl leans over me and goes, ‘Wow. That’s embarrassing.’”

You were full-on laughing now, covering your face with your hands. “No way.”

“I wish I was making that up.” Duff grinned, pulling your hands away so he could see your face. “Anyway, my point is—some days just fucking suck. And sometimes, all you can do is eat shit and get back up.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were still smiling. “So, the lesson here is…?”

“The lesson,” Duff murmured, leaning down so his lips brushed your forehead, “is that even on the worst days, you’re still my girl. And that means I’m not going anywhere.”

Your chest tightened. Not in the heavy, miserable way it had all day—but in the warm, stupid, I love this man so much it’s annoying kind of way.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.

Duff grinned. “I know.”

And for the first time all day, you felt okay.

𝕊𝕌𝕄𝕄𝔸ℝ𝕐: 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚡𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

Your hands were shaking.

You could feel it creeping in—the tightness in your chest, the rapid heartbeat, the way your mind started spinning like a record stuck on the worst part of the song.

It wasn’t the first time, but that didn’t make it any easier.

You were sitting on Duff’s couch, knees pulled to your chest, trying to focus on anything other than the storm building inside you. But nothing was working.

And then you heard his voice.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You barely had time to look up before he was kneeling in front of you, brows furrowed, his hands reaching for yours. His touch was warm, grounding, but you still felt like you were slipping under.

“I—I can’t,” you choked out, barely able to get the words past the lump in your throat.

Duff’s grip tightened—not rough, just firm. Just enough to remind you that he was there.

“Yeah, you can,” he murmured. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

You shook your head, tears burning your eyes. “I—I don’t know how—”

“Look at me,” he said gently.

You did.

His blue eyes locked onto yours, steady, unshakable. He took a slow, deep breath, exaggerating the rise and fall of his chest. Then he did it again.

You tried to follow, but your breath hitched.

“That’s okay,” Duff said softly. “Try again. In through your nose… real slow.”

You mirrored him, inhaling shakily.

“There you go,” he murmured. “Now out through your mouth.”

It took a few tries, but eventually, your breathing started to even out. The tightness in your chest didn’t disappear completely, but it loosened just enough that you could think again.

Duff never let go of your hands. His thumbs traced slow, absentminded circles against your skin, his touch constant, reassuring.

“Fuck,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “I hate this.”

“I know, baby.” His voice was so soft—not pitying, just understanding. “But you’re okay. You’re safe.”

You exhaled shakily, nodding.

His fingers brushed over your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “C’mere.”

Before you could even process it, he was pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. His chest was warm, solid, his heartbeat slow and steady against your ear.

You melted into him.

“You don’t have to do this alone, y’know,” he murmured against your hair.

A fresh wave of emotion crashed over you, but this time, it wasn’t fear. It was something deeper, something you weren’t sure you deserved.

“You’re too good to me,” you whispered.

Duff huffed a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Nah. Just taking care of my girl.”

You tightened your grip around him, burying your face in his shoulder. “I like the sound of that.”

His lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

For the first time that night, you actually felt okay.

And as Duff held you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns against your back, you realized something—

With him, you always would be.

hii could you do subby 80s duff ? like he has a mommy kink n he’s tied down n stuff andwhatever else you want to do plsss

༞༞𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜 '𝚗' 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎༞

Duff was tied down in a seedy hotel room off Sunset, the kind of place where the wallpaper peeled like old scabs and the bed squeaked with every shallow breath he took. His wrists were bound to the headboard with the red patent leather belt you’d taken off with theatrical flair—like it was a show. Because to Duff, everything was a show. The eyeliner. The swagger. The slouch. But not now. Now he wasn’t cool. He was yours.

“Y’know, baby,” you said, cigarette dangling from your lips as you straddled his hips like a throne, “there’s a very specific kind of idiot that thinks being a bad boy makes him a man.”

You took a drag, exhaled slow smoke into his open mouth, and smiled as he swallowed it like he was starving for your air. His pupils were blown wide, hair stuck to his forehead, chest flushed a desperate rose-pink.

“But lucky for you,” you continued, brushing the ash off onto the nightstand without looking, “I like my idiots on a leash.”

“Mommy,” he whined—whined, not said, whined—his voice high and cracked, like he was seconds from sobbing. “Please. I’ll be good. I swear, I’ll be so fucking good.”

You reached down, gripped his chin hard between your fingers, tilted his head up like you were inspecting a broken thing in a pawn shop. “Oh, I know you will. ’Cause here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m gonna sit on that pretty mouth of yours, and you’re gonna thank me for it like it’s a goddamn Grammy. And if I feel one tooth?”

You leaned in, close enough he could taste your lipstick.

“I bite back.”

Duff moaned like you’d punched the air out of his lungs. The veins in his neck popped like guitar strings straining for release. His cock—long, red, leaking down the shaft like a faucet with no off switch—twitched helplessly against his stomach.

“You think I like tying you up ’cause it’s cute?” you asked, sliding your nails down his chest, leaving trails like claw marks. “No, sweetheart. I tie you up ’cause if I didn’t, you’d fuck yourself stupid before I even touched you.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, breath shaking like a downed amp in a thunderstorm. “I—God, I wanna come so bad, Mommy, I’m gonna fuckin’ cry.”

You grinned, wicked and mean.

“Then cry.”

where are my new kurt cobain imagines guys? 😭😭😭

how can this fandom so dry, all content is like, 3 years ago 💔

I was wondering if you could do a headcannon of being the only women in Mötley cruë and how the boys would act with you.

𝐌Ö𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐑Ü𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

warnings — none.

a/n — i love writing soft shit about the craziest bastards ever <3 anyways, just a reminder that i don’t write pregnancy content nor hardcore smut. if you guys want to see who i’m writing for, what i write about, etc. PLEASE check my pinned post which explains everything. 💋💋 lemme know what you wanna see me post.

+ starting with the obvious… FLIRTING WITH ALL YOUR FRIENDS, FLIRTING WITH YOUR MOM, FLIRTING WITH YOU (and your fucking grandma let’s bffr).

+ you def have to check who they’re hooking up with when they’re too high to make sure they don’t accidentally fuck a hooker and have to pay $400.

+ they didn’t respect you at first to be honest. not in a non-feminism way but in a ‘ooh you have boobs, me likey’ way.

+ but then you gain their respect prettyyyy quickly…

+ “y/n please flash us, it’ll be a good show if you do!!!” 🙏🙏

+ you’re pretty much one of the dudes by the end of the first show, being their mom on tour and making sure they don’t die

+ making a bet that you’ll hook up with one of them if they can just pick who. and after a day of thought, they all continuously argue about it. and tommy thinks he’ll win (he doesn’t).

+ having a little fling with a gnr member… resulting in vince threatening him anddd the rest of the guys beat him up if he even looks at you the wrong way.

+ they’re SO protective over you. even if they’re drunker than hell, they’ll snap out of immediately for you.

+ they def call you their crush in interviews.

+ very flirty with you (yes i had to mention this again, so you understand the severity).

+ overall just being best fucking friends.

hiiii !! i had an idea for a request, but it’s totally okay if you don’t feel like it !!! it would be like the original lineup of gnr x reader (axl, izzy, steven, slash and duff)

the idea was that the reader (fem!reader) is a friend gnr bring along to have sex with on tour, after an episode of maybe kinky and rough sex where they pushed reader to the brink (everything consented) they all do aftercare for her and are really sweet and caring to her for the first time ever, she’s surprised, i don’t know if this could be taken as a request really, but it’s an idea i had that seems interesting to read, if you don’t feel like writing it’s totally okay anywaysssss. perhaps if you don’t feel like doing it for all the guys at the same time, you could do it with just axl¿

Warnings: None, just fluff although smut is hinted to

Your body ached all over, mind fuzzy and you couldn't move so you just laid there on the bed with the five men around you, laughing and joking around.

Occasionally they'd bump you and you'd twitch, every gentle touch feeling like a thousand.

Slash leaned closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face so he could kiss your forehead. "How're you doing down there?" He asked, a small smile on his face as his eyes trailed over you, taking in your disheveled state.

"She's not moving." Duff said, his hand on your shoulder and giving you a gentle shake. "I think we broke her."

"Axl, go get a wet cloth." Slash said, getting your hair away from your face and neck where it clung to sweat.

"You can't just tell me what to do." Axl huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Slash shot him a look before getting off the bed himself, but not without smacking Axl in the back of the head as he left to the bathroom.

Steven moved up the bed. He snaked his arms under you and lifted you up so you were sitting, mostly in his lap and leaning back against him. "You did so good, you know." He gleamed, kissing your cheek over and over. "You took five guys, been taking us for, like, a month, that's pretty fucking hardcore." His giggling warmed your heart, weak smile finding its way to your face.

Duff moved closer to your side, carefully taking your chin in his fingers and turning your head so you were looking at him. "Hurts, doesn't it?" He asked, giving you a once over to look for any real injury. "We'll give you a break for a while."

Slash returned with the cloth, climbing onto the bed to wipe you down. "Axl, can you go get snacks or something?" He asked, irritation in his voice as he already knew the answer.

"Give me the cloth, you go get snacks." Slash huffed and tossed Axl the cloth before heading off to the kitchenette in the hotel room, digging through the snack bag on the counter to find something you'd like.

Axl crawled closer and started wiping you down, making sure each stroke was gentle and nod snagging, you didn't need more stimulation. He was very sweet at times, especially with you. He put you to sleep more nights than you could count, singing you soft melodies with that deep voice.

Axl mumbled the words to American Pie to you, effectively putting you to sleep again.

You woke up occasionally, your body still hurting. You were in the bath with Izzy who was cleaning your hair, it was hard to shower on tours so getting a bath was a luxury.

Slash was there too, rubbing your legs and massaging you, though he was mostly just staring at your soaped up chest. You weren't awake long but they'd murmur praise and affectionate words to you whenever they noticed your eyes open.

You weren't sure who's shirt it was they put you into but it was big and warm and smelled like them, cologne with the everlasting scent of week old sweat. Axl's American flag boxers, you were sure he was the one to put them on you just for fun.

There was no way they were all fitting on the bed but they did try, every night you were in a hotel. Duff called dibs and held you loosely, letting you have your space since he heated up at night and didn't want to make you sweat after your bath.

Steven didn't care and straddled you, nuzzling his face into your chest with his arms wrapped around you. He stared up at you, a big grin on his face. "You're so pretty." He gleamed, pecking your chin and cheek, whatever he could reach. "And you smell nice, which is good, you were starting to wreak." Duff playfully swatted him in the back of the head.

"He's right though." The bassist mumbled, threading his fingers through your hair and leaning over to kiss your forehead. "Not the smelling part, but you do smell good... you're really pretty."

"Your vocabularies are scary." Axl grumbled from his place on the floor. Normally he'd be bullying Slash off the couch but tonight he wanted to be close to you, even if he couldn't be on the bed.

"She's ostentatious." Izzy spoke, looking at you from the chair in the corner, the band nicknamed it 'the cuck chair' and you, unfortunately, knew why.

Everyone looked back at him. "The fuck does that mean?" Axl asked, peering over the bed at him.

Izzy chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "I just thought of the biggest word I knew."

The debate went on, better words to describe you. There was a point system but really all their talking helped put you to sleep, they could call you whatever they wanted, but knowing they were doing their best to call you beautiful didn't hurt. Neither did Steven pecks throughout the night or Duff's gentle squeezes of your shoulder.

One Plane Ride Later (Duff McKagan x Reader)

Pairing: modern!Duff x reader

Words: 1546

Request: @anygnr​ : “Hi i love your writing and I would like to ask for one with Duff McKagan at the current age, anything you want, sorry for the bad english❤”

Summary: Sitting next to Duff on a plane by chance and talking music :) Thanks for the request and patience, love!

Taglist: @ubernoxa​ @the–blackdahlia​ @reigns420​ @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker​ @rumoured-whispers​ @born-to-lose​ @lost-in-the-80s​ @teasid​ @petals-and-bullets​ @ginny-rose-sixx

This was the second time you had subtly done your best to readjust in your seat without bothering the man next to you. Of course, that proved to be extremely difficult on an airplane.

You made the mistake of glancing over at him to check and make sure he didn’t have an expression of annoyance on his face—that was the last thing you wanted from this man. Your heart jolted; he was already looking right at you.

Oh god! You thought, giving a sheepish smile as you quickly averted your eyes. You felt yourself begin to sweat despite the personal air conditioning blowing onto your face from above.

“Everything alright?” Now, the man was speaking. His voice sounded exactly the same as the million times you had heard it before, only this time it wasn’t on some interview clip or a song. No, he was speaking to you.

“Huh—oh, yeah!” You replied quickly. His eyes lingered on you, polite and open to conversation and you felt the need to explain yourself. “I, uh, just can’t find my headphones. For the flight.”

“Oh. Bummer.” He replied, before he glanced down at his lap. “Well, hey, we can both share mine.”

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Heaven

Pairing: Duff Mckagan x Reader

Concept: 

Word count: 1,141

(some fluff, angst)

The tall clumsy blonde closed the door behind him, trying not to make a loud noise with his presence, but his cowboy boots thought otherwise. The thumps of the heels hitting the wood echoed through the apartment, still, you were too deep in your sleep to hear he was back. He knew you would be mad because he had left almost ten hours ago when he promised it was just a couple of drinks. It wasn’t the anger that scared him, it was the disappointment that used to peak in your beautiful eyes. Those eyes he promised to never see them turn dull.

“Shit!” he exclaimed in a whisper after accidentally pushing a chair. His body stood still, waiting to hear the creaking of the bed as you woke because of his dizziness, but there was no noise.

Regardless of how much alcohol was in his system, fear invaded his being. What if she left? The dark brown dusty boots made their way to the bedroom you shared with him, he was uncertain if he could bear the idea of you not being around anymore. And it was all his fault. Hazel eyes stared at the wooden boards, before gathering the courage to look at the bed, finding the beautiful woman who would wake them gleam every time their sight was set on her. Your soft hair spread across the pillow, pink lips slightly parted, with blue sheets that covered your delicate body. He was so lucky. Quickly taking his shoes and pants off, he jumped under the covers, softly wrapping his arms around you and pulling the weight so he could cuddle you. 

You snuggled up to him, eliciting a smile from him, who left a sweet kiss on your forehead. With the tour, recordings, rehearsals, and parties, Duff easily got caught up in the wild rockstar life, sometimes forgetting the most important part of it. The one he was grateful to the universe for crossing into his path. His life changed completely when he met you; found a confidant, a best friend, a shoulder to cry on, a person who would never judge him if it wasn’t for the best, a lover, the worst joker ever, but most importantly, the love of his life. 

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