1980s best decade🎸🩷

20 y/o german girl she/her 70s/80s Rock Fan 🎸GNR, Mötley Crüe, Queen, Metallica & more🎸 I'M MARRIED TO THE 1980s💍 Slash, Duff, Izzy, Steven Adler and Tommy Lee are my favs❤️‍🔥🔥

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

Just a note:

@estrangedillusions is now my new account. This one was flagged by Tumblr today, and many of my posts were deleted—including some of my smutty posts. I can no longer upload media or change my profile picture, which sucks. Even regular posts that had nothing to do with smut were removed.

Well thanks, tumblr.

Anyway, I can no longer use this account without restrictions but I still won’t delete this blog because there’s so much stuff I’ve collected on it.

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

Note: My mood board has already been taken down twice. 🦭 It took me so long to make. The GIFs were so good, but Tumblr said no. So I had to post in pic form. ⬆️🤍

[pumpkingut5]

Could u maybe pls write a duff x reader?

Here's the plot:

Y/N is Axl's sister, and one day, he invites his bandmates over and casually introduces his sister to them. The moment Y/N meets Duff, she’s instantly drawn to him—but he barely pays her any attention. Disappointed, she flirts with Slash instead, trying to shake off the feeling.

Yet, no matter how hard she tries, Duff stays on her mind. She starts bombarding Axl with questions about him. Axl shares everything he knows, then casually mentions that Duff is dating someone. The news hits Y/N hard, and she falls into a lovesick mood. Axl, at first, doesn’t understand why his sister suddenly seems so down.

One evening, he finds her crying on the couch and asks what’s wrong. Through tears, she confesses that she thinks Duff is amazing. Axl laughs, telling her she should’ve said something sooner. Without hesitation, he picks up the phone and calls Duff, asking him to come over. Y/N is outraged and shocked, demanding to know what Axl is up to. He just grins.

Fifteen minutes later, Duff shows up, and Axl tells him to say something to Y/N. She tries to play it down, but Axl ends up spilling the truth. Duff looks surprised—but happy. As Axl leaves them alone, Duff tells Y/N he actually liked her too, but Slash had told him she was into him instead.

The misunderstanding finally clears, and the two start kissing and making out. 💕

Whipped

Summary- After meeting your brother’s band mates, you find yourself being particularly drawn to a certain blonde of the group. Unfortunately for you, he seems to not care less about your ogling, so you decide to flirt with the curlyhead instead. After an emotional and also embarrassing conversation with your brother, and a mortifying phone call later, it seems there may be hope overall.

Content warnings- kissing, reader down bad, crying, swearing, embarrassment

A/n- whoooweee! Gosh this was so fun to write, I’m so sorry it took so long!! I loved this idea and the fact that you described it in great detail, that was very helpful. I hope this is what you wanted my lovely 🫶🏼🫶🏼

——————————————————————————

You couldn’t find it, where had you put it? You were searching for a certain shirt that you wanted to wear tonight, for going out with your best friend who insisted on dragging you to the local pub.

A big sigh left your mouth as you realised it must be downstairs, with the freshly cleaned washing. You were lazy, unwillingly dragging yourself down the steep stairs until you reached the bottom. What a workout, you thought as you shuffled your way into the living room. Now out of all the things you could’ve been prepared to see, this wasn’t one of them. Your mouth parted, as if trying to speak, opening and closing like a fish.

Two men sat on the sofa, one being Izzy, who you already knew, and two more were spread out on the floor, they were all very handsome men… except your brother of course. All of a sudden it clicked, Axl’s bandmates, who you had yet to meet. Well, not anymore, you suppose. On the very far left corner of the couch, sat a smiley man with blonde poofy hair, and next to him was Izzy, your brother’s childhood friend who you had met on multiple occasions. You gave him a little wave. Now on the floor sat a curly, black mop of a head, his curls framing his half-covered face. And last but not least, the man you had to take a second look for, another blonde. He was obviously taller by the way he towered over his friend effortlessly, and his pretty-looking face made you stare.

You never believed in love at first sight, in fact, you thought it was silly. That is until now. Christ he is hot; was just about the only thought flowing through your head at the moment, along with other miscellaneous things which you would never dare to say out loud.

“have you seen my shirt?” You ask your brother, the little shake in your voice not gone unnoticed by him. “The black one with the design” was what you added on, trying to make this situation a little less awkward.

“No, i haven’t. But why dont cha sit down here with us for a bit, y’know, get to know these guys,” Axl spoke. Now if it was under any other circumstance, you would’ve said no, but there was a gorgeous blonde who you just needed to meet.

“Alright.” You sigh. Hoping that the reason you cooperated so quickly wasn’t too obvious. Mumbled hellos float across the room, and everyone gave somewhat of a smile, except him. Of course, the one person you seem to be drawn to has no interest whatsoever. Gosh life is so unfair.

You try not to make the disappointment show, you really do try, but it’s hard when he’s just so damn pretty. You take in all your options, and decide the easiest way not to get your heart broken, is to distract yourself with the cute guitarist. So thats exactly what you do. The rest of the evening is spent with beers in hand, and flirty remarks passed between you and slash.

Eventually, they all went home, and that left you and Axl to clean up the mess. Not that you minded, as it gave you chance to start your plan. “Hey ax?” You call out. “Yeah?” Was the lighthearted response you received. “What’s the blondes’ name?” You found yourself asking. “You talkin’ about Duff?” He asked with a hint of confusion in his voice. No words came out your mouth in return, only a small hum of agreement.

This conversation had to have carried on for at least 15 minutes, and by the end of it, you knew his favourite colour, how old he was, if he has any pets, the instrument he plays, his favourite movie, and a brief summary of his personality overall. You hadn’t meant to ask all those questions, it just slipped ou- “oh yeah, and he has this girlfriend that—” The rest of Axl’s sentence became redundant, the only thing you’re focussing on, is the word ‘girlfriend’. Fuck fuck, way to ruin a girls mood.

You reply to his story with a half hearted laugh and a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. But of course, your brother being your brother, doesn’t notice a thing, just patting your shoulder and walking himself to his bedroom.

After standing in the living room for quite some time, you come to the decision to go to your own room, the steps on the way there feeling heavy, as if you’re carrying a weight. Then you continue your evening as usual, getting changed and brushing your teeth, then shimmying into the warm sheets. They glide against your freshly-shaven legs, and you take comfort in grasping the duvet in both hands, and pulling it all to under your chin.

——————————————————————————

A couple days go by, and you’re still nore upset than you would like to admit you are. And apparently, your not as subtle as you think you are. You find this out when you step into the kitchen to pour yourself some cereal, you hear the sound of a throat clearing and you feel a finger poke you in your back.

You turn around, clearly annoyed. “What, Axl?” You snapped. “Nothing, just wondering whats got you all—” he paused for a minute before adding, “grumpy” is what he decided on. “Im not grumpy, and even if i was i don’t see how thats your business?” And without even giving him a chance to reply, you walk away. Cereal forgotten.

——————————————————————————

It was the next day, and you still weren’t feeling any better. You don’t even know why you feel this way, you barely even spoke to the guy! But whatever you were feeling, it wasn’t nice. Your saline tears drip down from your eyes and trail their way down towards your mouth, the salty taste not gone unnoticed by yourself.

What time was it? You had sat down on the couch at around, what was it? 1pm? And what was it now? Glassy eyes gazed towards the clock, 7pm. Wait— 7pm? You could’ve sworn you had only been sat for half an hour, an hour at most.

Your mind started to spiral. Thought after thought making its way into your head. The inner monologue mocking you, discriminating you, telling you that you could be better than this, should be better than this. But it all comes to a screeching stop as a voice penetrates your hearing.

“Alright” he says, sliding into the spot next to you and turning towards you with an expectant look on his face. In that protective older brother fashion, he refuses to leave until you tell him whats wrong, which is when it all came out. It was like you had no control of your mouth, it was speaking freely for you, and there was no stopping it. Word after word just tumbles out, and you see his eyes slowly start to widen.

By the time you’re finished, you only just come to realise what you’ve just done. Shit. You didn’t mean to do that. You just confessed your feelings for your brother’s friend, to your brother. You were expecting him to shout, to ask whats wrong with you. Maybe even throw a couple of things. What you definitely were not expecting was the small smile that crept its way onto his face, the smile that appeared any time he had a mischievous idea.

“What?” You asked in a sharp tone, annoyed by his reaction and the pure calmness of it all. Axl didn’t do calm, in fact, this was damn near never heard of. “Oh nothing.. you should’ve just said something sooner” he replied, that smirk growing to a concerning degree. Before you even had a chance to register what he was doing, his hand reached on to the coffee table in front of you both, and picked up the phone. When you tried to ask him what he was doing, you were met with his index finger on your lips, and an exaggerated pout which meant ‘shush’.

There was a sudden click of the telephone, and then a groggy “hello?”. “Duff I’m gonna need you to come over right now,” your eyes widened, and then you lurched forward in a sad attempt at grabbing the phone. He lifted it above his head, brung it down for a quick second to shout an unnecessarily loud ‘thank you’ into the phone, and then slammed in back down onto the table.

“What did you do!” Was all you had to say, panic seeping in. He didn’t respond, he just kept that cheshire grin on his face. The next 15 minutes were the longest of your life, you were pacing, walking back and forth between the couch and the front door.

Your advances were abruptly stopped when a knock sounded through the house. You froze in place, and then shuffled back to the couch, dreading whats next to come. You don’t look over as the door opens, nor do you look when you hear your brother say something under the lines of ‘just talk to her, please?’

The couch dips next to you, and you turn your head to be met by those dazzling eyes. “I uh—i don—i don’t know why my brother called you, i—it’s not a big deal” you stuttered out, hoping to kill the silence. “Bullshit!” Your brother exclaimed, before starting again; “my sister likes you, but she’s too much of a pussy to vocalise it so i took it into my own hands to do it for her.” He exhaled deeply, like a weight was physically off his shoulders. Little noises of unfinished sentences started to leave your mouth, trying to find somewhat of an excuse for.. whatever that was.

Duff’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. You looked around the room, hoping an excuse would just.. come out of nowhere? But instead you caught the last glimpse of your brother as he walked out of the room. Prick. You were zoned out of the situation until a voice snapped you back to reality. “You—you like me?”

At this point it felt as if you had lost all ability to speak, so you just nodded your head up and down in hopes he would take that for an answer. Fortunately, luck was in your favour and a big smile spread its way across his face. “Seriously?—i mean, Slash told me you were in to him,” he said with a melancholy tone. “I just flirted with slash to avoid thinking of you” was your reply, short but sweet.

His head tilted to the side slightly, and he leaned in just enough for you to interpret it however you would like. Of course, you met him halfway. Your lips connected, and moved together as if they had done this hundreds of times before. When you began to lose air, you pulled apart and rested your forehead on his, breathing heavily in each others presence.

After you had both regained your breath, you started again. Small pecks turned into the melding of lips that lasted for what felt like minutes.

You two could’ve gone on for hours, just kissing each other like it hurts to be apart. But of course, all good things must come to an end, and sometimes that end is in the shape of your older brother yelling “ew! Get a room.”

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

Fic recommendation. Random tagging

@chxrrie-b4by @alwaysevandelheid @carla-123azerty @gunsnrosesslut

[rocknrollbabydolly]

have never wanted to sit on two noses so bad in my life 💔💔💔💔💔

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

realest post i've seen today-

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

favorite biopic ?

bohemian rhapsody and rocketman since they got something to do with 70s 80s rock. If not, i wouldn't be interested in the movie😬.. ykw i wanted to watch the dirt, but unfortunately, it's only available on netflix 😌 so i'll have to see where i can get it.

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

I'm wondering if you like elton john's music?

yes ofc i love his music! Speaking of Elton, the Rocketman biopic was what got me back into his music. I mean, I’m not a total fanatic for him like I am for GNR, but there are a few songs of his that I really like.🙏🏻 I’ll list them below.

DAMN IT NOW I HAVE A FUCKING EARWORM of saturdays night alright for fighting 😭😩

Apart from that, I also thought his performance with Axlllll at Freddie’s tribute was great🤘🏻

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

What are you doing RIGHT NOW?

hanging out on tumblr :p no but I actually just finished watching the Freddie tribute concert—sobbing, screaming, and whining the whole time, especially at the GNR and Metallica parts. Such a masterpiece of a show, with so many ‘80s legends. An incredible tribute to Freddie! Ugh, I wish I could jump into the screen.😭 And that final We Are the Champions performance…🥺

[xo-myloves-deactivated20251127]

Omagahhhha PLS Stevie adler smut, where the reader is stevies girlfriend and he fucks y/n while she's sleeping and she's not realizing ittt, she realizes only later when she wakes up

😛

consensual sleep sex fantasy / sleepy moans / raw & reckless / messy love

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

You don’t remember falling asleep — just his arms around you, the smell of weed, smoke, and that cherry-sweet shampoo he pretends isn’t his. Stevie’s chest was warm against your back, lazy kisses pressed to your shoulder as you mumbled something into the pillow.

“Anytime, baby,” you’d said before drifting off. “You ever wanna wake me up like that… do it. I mean it.”

And he remembered.

Even now, in the haze of sleep, your body knows him. Hips already shifting, thighs parting. Something inside you stirs — a low, liquid ache that builds before your brain catches up. His breath is hot at your neck, and there’s pressure between your legs — slow, insistent. Hard.

You moan softly.

Still dreaming?

No. That’s him.

You blink, hazy and half-lost in the dark, but you know that feeling too well to mistake it for anything else. His cock is already buried inside you, sliding deep, slow, like he’s savoring every inch. Like he didn’t want to wake you just yet.

“Stevie,” you whisper, voice raw.

“Shhh, baby,” he murmurs against your ear, his thrusts lazy and deep, “you told me I could.”

The sound of his voice sends a tremble through you. You melt into the mattress, let out a breathy whimper. You’re soaking, full, stretched in that perfect, aching way only he gives you.

“I woke up so hard next to you,” he mutters, biting your shoulder just enough to sting. “You were already moanin’. Pussy so warm and wet for me… couldn’t help it.”

You reach behind, fingers tangling in his mess of blond curls, pulling him closer. He groans into your skin, driving deeper.

It’s filthy. The best kind.

He keeps one arm tight around your waist, the other braced beside your head. His hips snap faster now, his breath ragged as your walls squeeze around him.

“Fucking love waking you up like this,” he pants. “You’re so fuckin’ sweet when you’re still floatin’. All soft. All mine.”

You nod, lost in it, gasping every time he bottoms out. The slick slap of skin fills the room, your bodies twisting in the sheets — all sweat, friction, and heat.

“Touch yourself for me,” he growls. “Wanna feel you cum while I’m still inside.”

Your hand slides down, fingers finding that spot. It takes no time at all — you’re already on edge, your body chasing it even before your mind caught up.

“Fuck—Stevie—I’m gonna—”

“Cum, baby,” he grits, grabbing your jaw and turning your face to kiss you messy and deep. “Cum on my cock like a good girl,”

You break apart in his arms, gasping his name, your body shaking under him as you clamp around him. He swears — something raw and broken — and then he’s pulling out just in time, spilling hot across your back with a strangled moan.

You both collapse, tangled, sticky, spent.

You blink up at him, dazed and wrecked in the best way. “Holy shit…”

He grins, that stupid-cute grin that almost makes you forget how dirty he just wrecked you. Almost.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

[maraudereestauderelb]

Rule No. 2 (Duff McKagan x Reader) Part 2

You're the tour manager, holding it all together with a clipboard and sheer willpower. Duff McKagan? He’s not helping. In fact, ever since that kiss, he’s been doing the exact opposite. Between secret glances, whispered teases, and heat-sparking hallway moments, you're starting to crack—and he knows it.

Way too casually sounding he asked: “Still thinking about the kiss?” “Which one?” He came even closer: “The one that made you sigh like I’d pulled a string inside you.”

You can find Part 1 here.

Warnings:

Sexual content / erotic themes, alcohol use, strong language, emotional conflict, slow burn, tour shenanigans, band chaos

18+

@estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf as promised: Part II

You had been thinking about the kiss all damn day. There was so much happening around you, light chaos before the soundcheck. Roadies were setting up, techs were shouting around and gear was clattering. You really tried your best to be all business but Duff wasn’t making it easy for you. 

You had your clipboard in your hand as always, a radio clipped to your back pocket and had a pen in your hand to direct crew and point at cases, rattling off instructions like a kid rattling off a poem. 

You had been avoiding eye contact with Duff on purpose. But you didn’t just want to avoid him, you also wanted to avoid thinking about him. So far without success. 

Right when you were mid-sentence with a tech, Duff suddenly leaned into you from behind, like he was reading over your shoulder. 

“Just to clarify...is making out with the assistant tour manager in the hallway against all the rules, or just most?” Thankfully, he said it quietly enough for only you to hear him. Your cheeks started to burn in an instant. 

Quickly you smacked him in the chest with your clipboard – not hard, but firm enough to make him grin and stumble back a step. 

“Professionalism. Heard of it?” 

“Sounds boring.” 

To make matters even worse Izzy strolled past with a cigarette tucked behind his ear and a bottle of something suspicious in his hand. 

Curiously the guitarrist raised an eyebrow: “You two good? 

Without missing a beat Duff replied: “Never better.” 

Leading you to mutter at him: “Please shut up.” 

Thankfully Izzy just chuckled and kept on walking. You starred down at your clipboard, hoping it might open a trapdoor under your feet. But nothing happened. 

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind, and proceed to walk toward the otherside of the stage. You really, really gave your best to look composed.  

Duff decided to follow you. 

When he asked: “Need help with your clipboard? Or your self-control?”, in an obnoxiously innocent voice you almost walked into a mic stand. 

Later, shortly before the soundcheck, you finally catch a minute to yourself in a hallway – or so you thought. 

You were adjusting the radio, rubbing the back of your neck, when a specific bassist slipped around the corner, a glass of vodka in one hand, his smirk loaded. 

You both froze for a second. 

He breathed a soft: “Hey.” 

God, could your stupid heart, finally stop with this excessive pounding?! 

“Please don’t say something wildly inappropriate”, you begged. 

He didn’t reply right away. Instead, he stepped closed. No touching, just closed enough to feel him. 

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, really. Just thinking.” 

“I’m not sure that’s any better...” 

“Thinking about last night.” 

Your heart sank. Goosebumps followed when he reached up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers grazing your cheek. You didn't move. Didn’t breathe. Right when he leaned slightly forward, someone yelled down the hallway. Slash. 

“Duff! Soundcheck! Let’s go!” 

You immediately jumped back like you just got caught making out behind the bleachers. Duff just laughed, shaking his head. 

“You’re terrible at being sneaky, you know that?”, he asked teasingly. 

“You’re not exactly subtle, rockstar.” 

As an answer he grinned at you and backed away, drink in hand, walking slowly like he was enjoying the torment. 

Once he was gone, you leaned back against the stone wall with your cheeks flushed, muttering to yourself: “This is a terrible idea.” 

---O--- 

About a week after the kiss you were still trying to stay “professional”. It wasn’t easy. Every night your thoughts drifted back to the kiss, to the way his lips had felt on yours. But also to your conversation, to the way he had looked at you. The way he was still looking at you every day. 

You had just been fixing setlist prints and checked the green room when you walked into the backstage lounge and froze. 

Duff was sitting on a couch with a girl. She was a pretty blond in a short dress. A rather beautiful groupie. She was perched way too close, laughing at something Duff had said like it was the funniest joke in the world. She was probably living her wildest dreams right now.  

He leaned in closer to her, smiling like he was trying to win an award for “Most Punchable Smugness.” 

You rolled your eyes and kept walking like you didn’t care. Because you definitely didn’t care! So, way on earth did he have to catch her glance? 

A touch too loudly Duff asked the girl: “You’re hilarious. Hey, wanna come watch soundcheck from side stage?” The girl giggled and you tightened the grip around your clipboard. 

During soundcheck you actively avoided his gaze and looking at the groupie he had invited. You focused on scribbling notes, faking radio calls and pretending to be busy. But when Duff caught you looking once, you nearly dropped your pen. 

Later that night, after the show, when the venue is already empty except the roadies, you stubbled over Duff alone, tuning his bass. 

By God, you hadn’t wanted to say anything but the words fell from your lips before you could catch them: “New friend?” 

Fucking idiot. 

“Who? Ashley?” 

“You learned her name.” 

Duff grinned from ear to ear. 

“Jealous?” 

“Of what? Being a groupie at the feet of a rockstar? No thanks.” 

He laughed and put the bass down before he got up and approached you. 

“Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d crack.” 

Coldly you answered: “I don’t crack.” 

“No. But you twitch. It’s cute.” 

Of course you were jealous, but hell would have to freeze over before you’d ever admit it. 

For a moment it was quiet before he stepped closer. 

“You know I was only thinking about you, right?” 

“When?” 

“Every time she said something dumb.” 

Almost tumbling over your own feet, you stepped back. 

“Stop doing that.” 

“What?”, he said fake-innocently. 

“Acting like we’re...something.” 

He looked at you softly before he intently said:” We could be.” 

“Not on tour.” 

He stepped closer. You stood still. 

“But after?” 

“You’re impossible.” 

With a smile he replied: “And you’re not denying it”, before he closed the gap between the two of you and you let him. 

The second his lips touched yours, a quiet sigh escaped you.  

His mouth was warm, insistent, the taste of vodka still faint on his tongue. One of his hands found your waist, fingers splaying against the curve of your hip, pulling you closer like he’d been dying to touch you since the last time. Maybe he had. You didn’t want to think about it. 

You grabbed his shirt, fisting the fabric, needing something to hold onto because your knees were starting to give. His other hand slid into your hair, cradling the back of your head as his thumb brushed your jaw. His touch was electric - gentle, but with a tension beneath it, like he was holding himself back. 

When his teeth grazed your lower lip, you gasped, and he used the opening to slide his tongue against yours, slow and deliberate. He kissed like he meant it. Like he had something to prove. 

Your chests rose and fell in sync when you finally broke apart to breathe, and for a long second neither of you said a word. 

“I knew, you’d crack.” 

---O-- 

Over the next two days you can’t help it. The secret kisses become more frequent, some light touches here and there. You know you should stop but you can’t resist it. This could potentially ruin your career, which was a thought you kept trying to ignore. 

It was easier to escape serious thoughts in a setting like this: loud music, neon lights, smoky air. You were looking after the band members after a concert. Majority of them had wanted to visit a local strip club, so you went. A few strippers were still performing, the band drinking and laughing, draped over couches. You were in your usual professional role, eyes on the band but keeping your distance, watching them from the bar. 

Then after a while Duff, who until know had flashed you a grin across the room now and then, appeared next to you at the bar, ordering a drink. 

“Didn’t think you’d let yourself touch the hard stuff tonight.” He said and clinked your glasses. 

“One drink. I’m still working until the last one of you is locked in a hotel room.” 

He leaned on the bar besides you, invading your space just enough. 

Way too casually sounding he asked: “Still thinking about the kiss?” 

“Which one?” 

He came even closer: “The one that made you sigh like I’d pulled a string inside you.” 

“Stop playing games”, you warned him. 

“This isn’t a game. Not when you look at me like that.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat for a second before you stuttered: “I need a moment.” 

You tried to walk away. Hurried for the hallway to the bathrooms. But he followed and quickly caught up with you when you reached the hallway. Damn, you needed space. You couldn’t handle the way this man was looking at you much longer. The memories of the kisses and his touches, drove you insane. This couldn’t continue! 

“You always walk away right when I’m about to say something real.” 

“Maybe that’s on purpose”, you say colder than you had intended. You needed fresh air. 

“I think about you all the time”, he was whispering in your ear now, sending a shiver down your spine: “Even when I shouldn’t. Especially when I shouldn’t.” 

You looked up at him with big eyes. Your mouth opening and closing again. You didn’t know what to say. But you wanted to feel him again; wanted to pull him down to you. 

But then Slash appeared in the hallway and shouted: “Fuck Duff, you need to see this!” 

Fighting with himself, Duff eventually followed his friend back inside. After a minute to compose yourself, you do the same. 

You sat down at the bar again, hoping the tension would fade but it didn’t. His eyes were fixed on you and you could do nothing against it. You tried to engage in a conversation with the barkeeper but kept getting distracted by Duff. Your body felt so tense it might explode. You definitely had to take care of that in your room later or you might die. 

When your thoughts drift back to the concert with a vision off Duff shirtless playing his bass, you hurry to the restroom. You washed your hands with cold water and gently tapped some of the cool liquid against your forehead and neck. You needed to cool down, but you didn’t get the chance to. 

Once you step out of the restoom again, Duff is already leaning against a wall opposite you, eyeing you top to bottom again. 

“You need to stop looking at me like that, Duff.” 

“Like what, Y/N?”, he asked innocently. 

“Like you’re trying to undress me in front of everyone.” 

A smirk appeared on his lips. Damn that smirk. 

“Only trying? Damn. I’m getting rusty.” 

You didn’t withdraw when he gently grabbed your hand. 

“Come with me. Just for a minute.” 

“Why?” 

“Because if I don’t touch you soon, I might lose my mind.” 

You knew what he was doing, but you followed. You must have forgotten your brain at the bar, otherwise you wouldn’t have followed him into a storage cupboard of all places. 

The shelves were cluttered and the light dim. You could still hear the faint thump of the bass from the club, but much quieter now. There was no way, you were allowed to be here. 

The room was small, so you stood close, as he watched you intently. 

“Why do you pretend you don’t feel this?” 

Feel the tension or was he talking about more? 

Your voice was shaking when you answered: “Because it’s easier to pretend than admit I want you.” 

“Then stop pretending.” 

First you hesitated. Your hands shaking. Then like someone had pulled a switch, you grabbed him by his shirt and kissed him.  

The second your lips crashed against his, all logic dissolved. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was weeks of longing, jealousy, and want, colliding with no warning and no brakes. 

Duff groaned against your mouth as his back hit the shelving behind him. Your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, needing him closer. 

His hands found your hips in a bruising grip, fingers digging in like he needed proof you were really there. He pulled you flush against him, and you gasped when you felt how hard he already was. 

“You drive me insane”, he muttered between kisses, dragging his mouth down your jaw to your neck, biting hard enough to make you gasp. 

“You deserve it”, you hissed, tilting your head to give him more skin. 

His laugh was dark, breath hot against your throat. “I know.” 

Your jacket hit the floor. His shirt joined it. Your fingers fumbled with his belt, and he let you. Then he spun you around and pressed you up against the wall. 

“You sure?”, his voice was low, strained. 

You nodded, breathless. “Yes.”  

That was all he needed. His mouth was on your neck again, his hands dragging your skirt up. Clothes were shoved aside, buttons popped, breath caught. 

He filled you in one rough thrust, and you bit your lip so hard to stay quiet it might bleed. His hand clamped over your mouth anyway, just in case. Your eyes met in the dim light, and there was something wild in his gaze – possessive. 

You couldn’t speak, so you let your body say everything. You arched into him, pushed back, met him stroke for stroke, every thrust a plea. 

The rhythm was brutal, relentless, and exactly what you both needed. Your hands braced against the wall, your forehead resting on your arm, his breath ragged in your ear as he whispered your name like a prayer. 

When you came, it was almost a sob. His name left your mouth in a muffled cry, and his hand gripped your hip so hard it would definitely bruise. 

He followed seconds later, groaning low against your neck, holding you like he was trying not to fall apart. 

For a long moment, you both stayed like that. Breathing. Shaking. Still pressed together in a tiny, forbidden space. 

Finally, you pulled away, straightened your clothes with trembling hands, and turned to face him. 

His eyes searched yours, something soft flickering behind the usual calmness. 

He grabbed his shirt from the floor and your jacket. Holding it out to you. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m not sure”, you answered honestly. 

You both got dressed without another word. The thoughts in your head spinning. 

“This needs to stay between us”, you pleaded: “Whatever this is.” 

He nodded, eyes full of things unsaid. 

“It can be whatever you want it to be.” 

-> MASTERLIST

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

@maraudereestauderelb (duff x reader fic recommendation. 🫶🏻)

random tags: @chxrrie-b4by @carla-123-avertzy @alwaysevandelheid @sugarrcherryys @gunsnrosesslut @gabi-saturno

[maraudereestauderelb]

Rule No. 2 (Duff McKagen x Reader)

You’re a junior tour manager on the edge of your big break, juggling chaos on the Guns N’ Roses tour. When Axl disappears minutes before showtime, you’re forced to hold the whole circus together. But the real distraction might be the bass player who keeps looking at you like you’re the only one in the room. You’ve got rules and zero room for mistakes. So why the hell did you just invite Duff McKagan into your hotel room at 5 a.m.?

“Rule number one is don’t test me. Rule number two is no relationships at work.” He raised an eyebrow. “That second one feels targeted.” “Only if you’re planning on making it a problem.”

Warnings:

Mentions of substance use (alcohol), tour stress, power dynamics (professional setting), mild profanity, sexual tension

Also, might write a second part for this. Let me know if you'd be interested!

@estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf thought you might like this one ;)

The comm was crackling in your ear as you held the clipboard clutched in your hands like a weapon. Why on earth could nothing ever go as planned in your job? You were already 87 minutes past the scheduled start time of the show and Axl, as usual, was nowhere to be seen! 

Your black pumps clicked on the concrete of the backstage area as you were moving between security, stage crew and the frazzled venue manager, who kept checking his watch, like it’s personally trying to kill him. Not only him, you as well.  

You had worked as a junior tour manager with your senior Dough Goldstein as a mentor. This wasn’t your first tour. After college you had first worked as an assistant tour manager, before then getting promoted to your junior role and if this tour went well, you had been promised to get full responsibility on the next, without a mentor. You were so fucking close to finally getting to where you had always wanted to get! Problem was: Axl Rose and his antics were standing between you and said goal. 

Suddenly you found yourself cornered by the local promoter: “If he’s not on in ten, this whole place goes up. You know that, right?” 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You gave him a tight smile. 

You were trying your best to stay calm and collected, used to the stress minutes before a show, but this was different. Slash was pacing around and Duff was planted on a folding chair with a bottle of something, you deliberately ignored, in his hand while tapping his boot.  

“Call the hotel again, see if he’s still there”, you told your assistant, who rolled his eyes at you: “I’ve already called like three times.” And then you finally snapped. 

“I’ve been on tour with fucking Mötley Crüe! What is this shit show?!” 

A moment of stunned silence followed. Then Duff snorted into his drink and muttered: “She’s not wrong.” 

You felt Duff’s eyes on you as you approached one of the drivers and asked him to please go out and check outside the venue. Axl had to be somewhere. 

Then – minutes before the crowd boiled over – Axl appeared like a ghost, out of fucking nowhere. No apology, just a shrug. 

“Get on stage already”, Dough shouted at them a single time before all five band members finally move their asses out to the crowd. Ignoring the pounding in your head, you signaled the light tech. It was time to start. A deep sigh left your lips when the first chord of Slash’s guitar to It’s so easy echoed through the massive venue. It was in fact, never easy with them, hadn’t been from the start. And as your eyes watched the five of them from the side, your gaze stopped at Duff and your thoughts drifted back to your first meeting two weeks ago. 

---O--- 

You stood in the rehearsal warehouse in LA, flipping through schedules on your clipboard when you heard laughter behind you. The band had entered. 

You knew Dough had already told them about you joining them that day. He had told them “This is Y/N Y/F/N. She’s going to be my right hand on this tour. Her word counts as much as mine, and I expect the same respect for her as for me, okay?”  

It wouldn’t be the first time for Dough on tour with them and he probably should have given you a heads up. 

When you turned around a tall man with long, disheveled blond hair approached you with an extended hand and a smile: “So, you’re the one keeping us all in line? 

Duff McKagen. You had done your research on the band beforehand, but you had known his name before that. Rock music was one of the big loves of your life. The reason you were doing all of this. The reason you pushed through all the walls trying to keep a young woman out of this industry. So, of course, you knew Guns ‘n Roses. 

Duff was wearing a pair of shades, a black tank top and held a coffee in the hand he wasn’t holding out to you. 

You shook his hand firmly. 

“Only if you start wandering.” 

“You know what you’re getting yourself into?” His grin widened and you couldn’t help but give in and return it. 

“I’ve done my research.” 

“So have I.” 

“Oh really?” You raised your eyebrows. 

“Sure. Young, beautiful woman, coming on tour with us”, he replied, trying to sound cocky, but ended up sounding rather cute actually. “That’s why I brought you coffee.” 

He offered you the cup and after a short hesitation you took it. 

“Thank you.” You answered. No flirtatious undertone in your voice whatsoever. 

“You don’t get flustered easy, huh?” 

“I don’t get paid to be flustered.” 

Over the next hour, you had noticed him trying again: small comments, lingering glances. You shut him down efficiently but with a charisma that made it clear you were in control, which only seemed to intrigue him even more. 

As the band rehearsed on stage you were checking with techs, runners and production managers. You never allowed band members to get too close to you. It was dangerous and could cost you. It was already hard enough to be taken seriously as a young woman without anyone spreading word, that you were crushing out over anyone you were working with.  

But the way Duff moved his lean body against his bass, would definitely take a toll on you, that much you knew. 

You hadn’t even realized that the music had stopped when suddenly someone called out to you: “Hey, new boss lady” 

As it turned out, the voice belong to no other than Duff, who was sauntering towards you with a beer in one hand and a pair of sunglasses still on indoors. 

You greeted him with a polite, tight smile. 

You knew, you were about the same age, but he seemed younger, less polished and like he wasn’t taking things too seriously. A high contrast to you. Though you could be funny when you wanted to be. 

“You know, we’re trying to figure you out a little”, he told you once he reached you. 

“No need too push hard. You can simply ask me anything.” 

He hesitated for a moment, like he was thinking about his next question, before he asked: “So, what’s your story? You from label hell or tour boss bootcamp?” 

“Neither”, a soft smile found its way to your lips: “Grad degree in communications and logistics, three years on the road, one of them with Ozzy Osbourne.” 

“Impressive. And slightly terrifying.” 

You gave him a short laugh. 

“I was also sent to ask you, if you want to join us for a beer.” 

“I’m sorry, maybe next time”, you declined politely. 

He smirked and tilted his head: “Let me guess...rule number one: No drinking?” 

Damn, why did all of his words, want to make you smile? 

You kept your cool though. 

“Rule number one is don’t test me. Rule number two is no relationships at work.” 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“That second one feels targeted.” 

“Only if you’re planning on making it a problem.” 

---O--- 

When the concert had finally come to an end, the venue had been a mess, reeking of beer, sweat and adrenalin. But you job was never over after the call for an encore. 

You had to make sure Axl got in the SUV without pissing off any cops, get those who wanted to a strip club, then get them all back to the hotel, without any riots or overdoses. 

It was 4:47 am when you finally unlocked the door to your hotel room and shut the door behind you. A deep sigh left you lips, es you kick off your pumps and sat down on a big chair opposite the bed. For a moment you just sat there in silence and rubbed your hurting feet. It had been an exhausting night. One of the worst on this tour so far but in the end, everything had turned out alright. You had done your job and sometimes that was all that mattered.  

There were only a few hours left until you had to get up again. Quite a luxury these days. At least you hadn’t been forced to drag all their asses to an airplane to travel to a different city that night. No, that was a job for tomorrow. 

Now, you decided, you needed a drink. Something to ease your mind and loosen you up before you’d head to the bathroom. You walked over to the mini bar and checked what it had to offer. You opted for a cold beer and cracked it open. Before you even tasted it, you closed your eyes for a moment, just to feel human again,  and then–

A knock. 

God, it was almost 5 o’clock in the morning who the hell could that be! Please God, don’t let it be another problem, you thought as you walked to the hotel room door.  

To your surprise it’s no other than Duff who was standing right in front of you. 

He looked disheveled. Still in his show clothes. With his eyes a little unfocused, but not wasted. You had just opened your mouth to ask him what’s going on, but he was fast. 

“Didn’t think you drank.” 

“I don’t drink at work.” 

What did he want? And why did he have to look at you they way he was? 

Over the past weeks you had told yourself countless times, that you needed to keep a professional distance to him. He was trouble. Not just because he was who he was, but also because you were working together. But the way he always looked at you and teased you made it hard. Almost impossible not to think about him. Well, your thoughts you could keep at bay, your dreams though, were an entirely different topic. 

When he didn’t say anything else, you decided to ask instead: “Can I help you with anything?” 

He shifted on his feet, without looking at you quite directly. 

“I just... I wanted to say I’m sorry. You held all of this together tonight and I... my behavior didn’t help. I know that.” 

You nodded. Usure of what to say to this. He had caught you by surprise. An apology was the last thing you had expected. He also didn’t need to apologize. This was your job. But damn he looked cute apologizing. 

He started to turn back into the hallway then you heard yourself speak, almost against you will: “Duff...uh...you know drinking alone kinda sucks... you wanna come in?” 

He looked at you surprised for a moment but not taking any chances, he slowly stepped in before you got the chance to make up your mind. What were you doing? This wasn’t a good idea! But damn you needed to feel like a normal person for an hour! Like a normal young woman! 

You grabbed another bottle of beer from the minibar and handed it to him. The way he was eyeing you top to bottom made you nervous, so you were relieved when he sat down on the chair across from your bed, where you sat down at the edge. 

To ignore the shaky feeling, you took a big gulp from your beer, before he finally spoke. 

“You don’t need to work this hard, you know.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

You didn’t elaborate and he didn’t push. 

Duff carefully took a sip of his beer while you watched him, unable to take your eyes off him. 

“You don’t talk much about it. The pressure.” 

His words surprised you.  

“What’s the point? Everyone’s got something”, you tried to shrug it off. 

“Sure. But not everyone’s got all this riding on them. The tour. The crew. The band. Us.” 

And damn you tried to ignore the way your heart jumped at “us”. 

“I know what it’s like when everyone’s leaning on you. You smile, you plan, you handle shit – until something cracks.” 

His blue eyes have you locked on them, and his words hat harder than you’d like to admit but you gave a shot laugh to look casual. 

“Well, lucky for everyone, I haven’t cracked yet.” 

Without hesitation he replied: “I’ve come close. More than once. You know that.” 

You nodded. You did know. You had seen it. 

A soft smile appeared on his lips when he continued: “But you being here...it’s different. You make it feel like maybe I don’t have to lose control to feel okay.” 

He took another sip and added: “I don’t wanna be another problem for you.” 

The honesty in his voice almost hurt so you hurried to say: “You’re not.” 

The room was silent. Almost uncomfortably silent. Damn, what had you thought when you had invited him in? 

You took another few sips from your beer to calm your nerves but failed miserably. When he suddenly got up and walked over to the mini bar again to grab another beer, your hands were almost visibly shaking. You shouldn’t have checked out his behind when he had leaned down to the mini bar, but you couldn’t help it. The color of your cheeks turning a shade darker. 

Instead of returning to the chair, Duff sat down next to you on the bed – close. Too close. You could feel the heat coming from his body, take in his scent. You stiffened. 

“You remember what I said about rules?” 

The bassist leaned back slightly, letting the words hang in the air, then he glanced at you sideways with the smirk that had already killed you on day one. 

“You already broke one of them tonight.” 

You looked down at your hands, then up again – caught. 

“That wasn’t-” 

“I didn’t say it was a mistake.” 

“It was reckless.” 

His smirk got even wider. “Yeah. Feels good from time to time, doesn’t it?” 

You sat in silence for a beat. Your eyes where roaming over his face in the dim light of the room. You had never been this close to him. This way you could see everything. The deep blue of his eyes, the soft stubble on his chin, this first soft creases in the corners of his eyes.  

“Tell me to back off, and I will.” 

Your throat tightened. You should tell him. But... 

“I don’t need saving.” 

“Didn’t say you did.” 

You glanced down at the bottle in your hands again and took a deep breath. 

“Sometimes”, you said: “I just want...on hour. Where I’m not fixing something. Or someone.” 

Gently and hopefull he replied: “Then let this be that.”

There was no pressure on his words or voice but it hit you harder than anything else. You looked at him again. His eyes were open, earnest. Not cocky, no teasing. He was just there.  

You exhaled again, your heart thudding. 

“This can’t mean anything”, you whispered. 

He leaned in, just enough for you to feel the warmth of him – but he didn’t close the gap. 

You couldn’t help but stare at his mouth. His lips. 

Just this once. Just let go. Just one damn reckless thing. 

Your breath caught as his face lingered near yours, close enough to count his lashes. He wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t daring you. He was waiting.

Your hand moved before your mind could catch up, reaching out to gently grab the collar of his shirt. 

Just this once. 

And then you closed the gap. 

The moment your lips touched, something inside you snapped. The kiss wasn’t tentative. It was full, immediate, hungry. Like the both of you had been waiting too long and didn’t know what to do with the need now that it was finally set free. 

His mouth moved against yours like he’d memorized the shape of it before. He kissed with intention - not polite, not careful - just open and hot and there. You barely registered the way his hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb grazing your cheek. 

You leaned in harder, parting your lips, allowing him to deepen it. You didn’t care how breathless it made you. You didn’t care that your neck arched, or your fingers dug into his shoulders to keep steady. All you cared about was the way he tasted. Like beer and something darker. And the low sound he made in his throat when you pulled him closer. 

You had never been kissed like this. Like he needed it. Like you needed it. 

By the time you finally came up for air, your chest was heaving. Your lips were swollen and damp, and your whole body was buzzing. 

He kept his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. 

You wanted to drag him all the way up on the bed with you.  

But instead, you whispered, breath still shaky: “I think you should leave now.” 

He pulled back, slowly, blinking like he’d just stepped out of a dream. Then - that smirk. Crooked. Infuriating. Sexy as hell. 

“I’m gonna feel that tomorrow”, he said, licking his bottom lip like he could still taste you. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved at his chest, just a half-hearted push.  

“This can’t happen again.” 

He stood, backing away with maddening ease, like he hadn’t just driven you crazy. 

“Maybe it doesn’t”, he said, already reaching for the door. Then Duff’s eyes met yours again: “Maybe it does.” 

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you sitting in the middle of your room, heart pounding, lips tingling, and no chance in hell of getting any sleep tonight. 

-> MASTERLIST

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

@alwaysevandelheid @gabi-saturno @carla-123azerty

[katzclawz]

One night to change it all ❦

1985..

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸, 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦... 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘍𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘕𝘪𝘬𝘬𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴

"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘤, 𝘥𝘶𝘥𝘦!" 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺, 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘺, 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘺... 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦... 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘴 1000 𝘴𝘬𝘺'𝘴...

"𝘏𝘪..." 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.

"𝘖𝘩, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.... 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦..." 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘶𝘱... 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨... 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺'𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮... 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘷𝘰𝘥𝘬𝘢 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩.. 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘱, 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳

"𝘴𝘰... 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘴, 𝘩𝘶𝘩? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮?" 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴.

"𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴?" 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩... 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬... 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘱... "𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.... 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?" 𝘏𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘺. "𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦" 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. "𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦?" 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦... 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵... 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘺... 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳... 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 "𝘰𝘩 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺..." 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.

𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. "𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬... 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘵..." 𝘈 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘱 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘥, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳... 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯... 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦... 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦... 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺, 𝘮𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘴... 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘩... 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳...

"𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬... 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺... 𝘪-𝘪'𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘤𝘶𝘮..." 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘴, 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 "𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰... 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵... 𝘰𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘥- 𝘢𝘩!" 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩, 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘴𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳...

𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦... 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴... 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳... 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦... 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨... 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦? "𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘳?" 𝘏𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘴

"𝘐'𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵... 𝘐'𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰" 𝘨𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦... 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴.... 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭

[Sorry for the abrupt ending all, this is my first story in 3 years, my first story on tumblr actually! Please feel free to give some constructive criticism and feedback, I could use some, I'm a bit rusty 😭 send in some more prompts and requests on my pinned post please!]

@unknownperson246 <33

[southerntigress-deactivated2025]

@estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

Hot story🤤 👌🏻 thx for the tag @southerntigress 🫶🏻

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

Hi! I don’t know how to exactly explain this but I did get your request and I started working on it a week ago? like a day after you requested it. I’m at where she had gotten rejected by Duff and it will be soon finish!! So, maybe later tonight or tomorrow morning, it will be posted it!!

So sorry for posting it a week later ☹️

I didn’t mean for it to get this far because I was gonna be finished by Tuesday-Wednesday but then I got caught up in something irl. But! I’m all good now! I’m really excited to finish this story because the plot is just awesome sauce!! The plotttttt is just mmm-yummy😋

hey, no worries, u don't have to apologize at all! I ain't the type to rush or pressure ppl when it comes to fanfic writing.

i'll be excited whenever it's ready, beside that i'm very glad u liked the plot🦭🤤

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

Would it make your day a little better if I told you I'm working on another Duff OS that's coming next week?✨️👉🏼👈🏼

Ahhh yesss omg that would be so nice!! You already know how to lift my mood! 👌🏻🦭🦭

Duff content always makes my day! I'm already so excited because everything I read about him makes me feral. 🐻🤍

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

HUH WDYM I'M TOO LATE WTFF Maaaaaaaan, Metallica is playing in my hometown for once—(which is rare)—and the tickets sold out on the very first day of presale… ONE YEAR before the concert! I can't believe this. This is a nightmare.

on top of that a few acquaintances of mine, who aren’t diehard fans got tickets just for fun, (lucky ones :p ;)) while me the diehard 80s obsessed fanatic, gotta suffer. Mdjsjsksks *whining* I mean don't get me wrong i'm happy for everyone who got tickets but still i can't believe this 😪 ok whateverrrr

i'm throwing a tantrum i'm def done for today👎🏻

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

[hanoisrock]

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

[maraudereestauderelb]

Off Limits (Duff McKagen x Reader)

You’re dating Izzy, but your dreams are haunted by someone else: Duff, your best friend, the one who knows you better than anyone, and the one person you promised yourself would always just be a friend. A quiet kiss on a warm L.A. night changes everything, and now your fantasies have a face—and it's not Izzy’s.

"Maybe you’re special to him. You are to me." The words hit harder than they should. Your heart stuttered. And in that moment, with his jacket around your shoulders and his scent in your lungs, you weren’t sure if you were still dreaming.

Warnings:

Sexual content / erotic themes, Infidelity, Drug and alcohol use, Strong language, Emotional conflict / romantic angst

18+

Disclaimer: Cheating is one of the worst things you can do, so don't do it.

Requested by @estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf, hope you like it! And thanks again for the request!

Word Count: 5.300

Warm hands roamed over your naked body. You relished every touch of his long fingers, as they traced over your thighs and hips, pulling you closer. Your panting and heavy breathing filled the room between sloppy kisses. “Y/N”, your name left his lips like plea, before you captured his lips with yours again. It felt like you heart was about the beat out of your chest. You had waited so long to have his body on top you, pressing you into the mattress – too long. His hands slowly roamed further down, your hips automatically widening for him. Your breathing got faster and faster until he finally touched your core – 

And you woke up. You rushed to sit up in your bed, sweat glistering on your forehead. Your breathing was fast and erratic, and you felt like your body was on fire. 

Involuntarily you flinched when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders and heard Izzy’s sleep-roughened voice: “Is everything okay?” 

“Sure, sure”, you hurriedly said: “Just a dream.” 

It hadn’t been the first time; you had a dream like this. For an entire week your thoughts had constantly been going back to similar scenarios. Fuck, you hated it. At first you had told yourself it would go away – that the dreams would stop, that your thoughts would stop to drift back to kissing him, when you merely just looked at him, that your heart would stop to sink, every time you saw him. But it had only gotten worse. 

Why couldn’t the man next to you be the protagonist in your fantasies? Why did it have to be Duff? 

Your eyes drifted through your dark bedroom to your dresser. You couldn’t see it, but you knew Duff’s jacket, he had given you the night everything had changed, was still in there. You still remembered how his jacket had felt on your skin, the way his scent had captured you and involuntarily your thoughts drifted back to the memories about the night a week ago. 

---O--- 

It had been one of these warm spring days in Los Angeles and just now when the sun began to set, a soft breeze started to flow through the dusty air. You could still hear the noise coming from the now dying down traffic on the street as you were sitting on the fire escape in front of the window of his one-bedroom apartment. 

Duff sat next to you on one of the stairs, a small cassette recorder on the step underneath you. Today it had been your turn to choose the music, so it was Fleetwood Mac, which was quietly playing in the background. You liked how it fit the relaxed vibe of the evening. 

You picked up your still-smoldering joint from the ashtray and inhaled the smoke deeply before breathing out with your eyes closed. 

“How were your classes today?”, your best friend asked after he took a sip from the beer bottle, he was holding casually. 

“Horrible”, you answered thinking back to your day at college: “I should’ve left your concert sooner yesterday, I was tired all day.” 

“But you couldn’t stop swooning over Izzy”, he teased you. 

“I wasn’t swooning”, you complained and hit his shoulder playfully. 

It hadn’t even been because of Izzy. You hadn’t missed a single one of Duff’s gigs, since the night you had met, over a year ago. Both of you hadn’t been living in LA for long, when you had met at a party, and after finding out that you were both originally from Seattle, there was no denying, you were meant to be friends from the start. He understood you in ways nobody else ever did. 

“How’s it going with Izzy anyway?”, he asked interestedly. 

“Oh, it’s good.“ 

“Just good? You don’t sound convinced.” 

“It’s not that...”, you shook your head, unsure of what you were even trying to say or why you weren’t as enthusiastic as you should be. You liked Izzy, always had a soft spot for him and he was hot, a force to be reckoned with on stage and when he had asked you out for the first time, you hadn’t hesitated for a second. 

“We always have a good time when we’re hanging out, he’s handsome and funny, relaxed and easy to talk to-” 

“But?” 

“What?” 

“You talk like there’s gonna come a But.” 

You sighed and took another drag from your joint. The soft breeze started to slowly turn into a soft, chilly wind, as the sun disappeared behind one of the other buildings and the streetlights turned on. 

“I’ll grab myself another beer, you want one?”, Duff asked you and got up. With his warmth next to you gone and his tall body no longer sheltering you from the wind, you shivered. 

“Sure”, you replied: “Could you also get me a jacket maybe? It’s getting a little cold.” 

“Of course, and while I’m gone you can think about the But.” 

Oh great, you thought. 

It wasn’t like the actual reason which made you a little unsure was something you wanted to discuss with him. It was a little embarrassing especially if he ever told Izzy about it. Inside of her, she knew he would never do that, but she felt awkward, nevertheless. 

It didn’t take long for Duff to come back outside with two opened bottles of beer and a big, black leather jacket. You stubbed out the joint in the ashtray before you grabbed the jacket he was holding out in front of you. You slid the jacket over your shoulders, the weight of it settling around you like a warm hug. The leather was soft, worn in. You pulled it tighter, just for a second, and breathed in. 

It smelled like cigarettes and aftershave, something woody and sharp with the faintest trace of beer beneath it. The kind of scent that lingers, that you’d recognize in the dark. 

In the dim light of the streetlights you looked at him when he sat down next to you again and took the bottle he was holding out to you. Duff wasn’t clean-cut or polished. There was something rough about him - those cheekbones, the mess of blond hair that always looked like he just ran a hand through it and didn’t care what happened next. 

When he lit up a cigarette your eyes followed his hands to his lips, when he took the first long drag. He had nice lips, soft and – God, you shouldn’t be thinking about him like that but his jacket, with his scent clinging to your skin, made you feel some kind of way. 

“So what’s the thing with you ‘n Izzy?” 

You had hoped he’d let the topic go, but he obviously wouldn’t. 

“Why? Has he said anything?” 

“Nah, he ain’t the type to spill dating stories at rehearsals”, Duff laughed: “We on the other hand have told each other multiple, funny dating stories and I was kinda getting worried, why I’m getting nothing on the two of you.” 

“It’s different”, you said with a pause to take sip: “He’s your friend.” 

“I’m not asking how he’s in bed! I just-” 

“We haven’t...”, you admitted and immediately felt heat travel to your cheeks. Purposely you look down at the bottle in your hands. 

“What? I mean, neither of you is like...a saint or anything.” He seemed genuinely surprised. 

“I know!”, you sighed: “I don’t get it either! But every time we start to make out, it’s like he’s holding back! I don’t get it!” 

“Maybe he wants to take it slow”, Duff shrugged. 

“Come on! You said it yourself, we ain’t saints.” 

“Maybe you’re special to him. You are to me.” 

You forced yourself to ignore the way your heart had stopped a second, at his words, and blamed it on your high. 

“Or maybe he changed his mind.” 

“Or maybe you’re thinking too much about it.”  

As you got more and more frustrated, Duff kept his cool and was seemingly amused by your growing frustration. 

“Or maybe, I’m just a bad kisser.” 

“That’s what you think?” He straight out laughed now. “Come on, Y/N, you can’t be serious.” 

“Well, what if it’s true?” You pouted and crossed your arms in front of your chest. 

“It’s not.” 

“How can you know?” 

“I just know”, he was adamant about it. 

“You can’t know that.” 

He put out his cigarette in the ashtray before he turned back to you with a smirk. 

“I can prove it to you, if you’d like.” 

You blinked at him. I can prove it to you, if you’d like. The words echoed in your mind. 

“Shut up,” you muttered, trying to laugh it off, but you couldn’t quite look away. 

“I’m just saying”, he said, voice low, lazy, like he didn’t have a care in the world: “If it helps clear your mind... for science, obviously.” 

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was beating way too fast. The leather jacket was still wrapped around your shoulders, his scent in your nose, and he was right there, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him. You hesitated, then looked up at him fully. 

His eyes searched yours. He wasn’t joking anymore. 

“Okay”, you said, so softly you barely heard yourself. 

Duff didn’t move at first, like he wanted to make sure you meant it. Then slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, light and warm. 

When he leaned in, it wasn’t rushed. It was deliberate, slow, confident. His lips brushed against yours once, barely there, like a question. You answered by tilting your face toward him, your hand reaching up to grip the front of his shirt, pulling him in. 

Then he kissed you, really kissed you. 

It was soft at first, his mouth moving gently over yours, but there was heat building fast, curling between you like smoke. He tasted like beer and tobacco. When his hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair, you sighed against him, lips parting. He didn’t hesitate. His tongue found yours, and the sound you made surprised even you. 

You shifted, knees brushing his thigh, your whole body leaning into him. He groaned low in his throat, and you felt it, deep in your stomach. One of his hands slid under the hem of the jacket, fingers skating across your waist, just skin on skin. Your pulse jumped. 

The kiss turned messier, hungrier. Your teeth caught his bottom lip; his fingers dug into your side. You didn’t think- didn’t want to. 

And then, just as suddenly, he broke the kiss. 

You were both breathing hard, his forehead resting against yours for a second before he pulled back completely. His hand dropped from your waist, and he looked away as he leaned back, dragging a hand through his hair like he was trying to clear his head. 

You blinked, disoriented. The night air hit you like a splash of cold water. 

“Shit”, he muttered under his breath, then forced a laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes: “Well... now you know you’re not a bad kisser.” 

You managed a shaky laugh, even though your lips still tingled and your mind was spinning. 

“Right. Scientific proof.” 

He gave you a weak smile, but you could see he was retreating before you’d even decided how to feel about what just happened. 

“I should probably...uh, get some sleep”, he said, standing up: “Big rehearsal tomorrow.” 

You nodded, trying to pretend like your world hadn’t been turned upside down a moment ago. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

He took the bottle from your hand and leaned in to pluck the jacket from your shoulders but stopped himself. His hand hovered there for a second too long, then he pulled it back. 

“Keep it for now”, he said quietly: “You still look cold.” 

And with that, he disappeared back inside. 

You stayed there for another minute, staring out at the dark city, the leather jacket heavy on your shoulders, still warm with him. You exhaled slowly. 

Well. Shit. 

----O--- 

Later that day after your last dream about Duff you had finally gotten your shit together and were sitting on your run-down sofa, watching a rerun of a show you had already seen twice with plans of ordering pizza later. Izzy was just getting ready for a gig and grabbed his guitar before he stopped in the doorway. 

You still hadn’t done much more than kissing but at least now you knew, you were the problem. Every time he came close to you, let alone kissed you, your thoughts drifted back to your best friend. It wasn’t fair and you felt horrible. It also made no sense to you! Just now, when you looked at the man, standing in the doorway, eyeing you critically, you were very much aware of how hot he looked with his deep, doe eyes and his effortless demeanor. Looking at him during one of their shows had always gotten you hot and bothered, your thoughts imagining what his skilled fingers could do to you, if they were able to move this quickly on his guitar. But now all you could think about was Duff. And that shit hurt. 

“Are you sure, you’re not coming tonight?”, Izzy asked you. 

“I’m tired”, you lied: “I’ll make it next time, promise.” You gave him a weak smile. 

You had never missed one of their gigs but today you simply didn’t feel like going. It hurt too much. 

After the kiss, which had even been Duff’s idea, he had distanced himself from you. When you had met him and the other band members late at night in a diner, he hadn’t been able to do as much as look at you. It was weird. You went from talking almost every day to a complete cold turkey of not talking at all. 

Then at the band practice you had visited a few days ago, he had suddenly started parading around a pretty blond girl, with long legs to die for. She was absolutely gorgeous, and it wasn’t her fault, but you couldn’t stand being around them. 

You had met a few girls he had been dating over the last year, but it had never felt like this. It was different watching him kiss them, when you knew what it felt like. 

It wasn’t fair to Izzy either. It was him, you were dating! And he didn’t deserve someone who was there for him but looking at somebody else. 

“Okay”, he nodded: “It’s probably gonna be late, so I’ll crash at my place. See you tomorrow?” 

“I would love that.” 

He left after he had placed a soft kiss on your cheek. No spark, no nothing. 

Why on earth had you thought, kissing Duff was a good idea? Hell, it was his idea even! How could he do that and then not talk to you again? He was your best friend! 

As you sat there on the sofa, halfheartedly watched the TV, ordered and ate a pizza, which tasted like nothing to you, walked up and down your living room, your frustration with the entire situation and with Duff kept on growing. Eventually, hours after Izzy had left you decided: Two can play this game. If Duff needed to parade his new girlfriend around in front of you, so could you. So, you got dressed. 

----O---- 

You arrived at the bar just as the last chord of the final song rang out, vibrating through the walls and your chest like a heartbeat you couldn’t ignore. The place was packed, shoulder to shoulder, sweat in the air, the sticky floors soaked in spilled beer and cheap perfume. You slipped in through the side door like a ghost, unnoticed at first, your boots silent against the backstage hallway. 

The muffled cheers grew louder as you neared the stage, and then - Axl’s voice. 

“Thank you! You’ve been fucking beautiful!” 

You heard the feedback shriek as they unplugged, the crowd roaring as if they could drag the band back out through sheer force. Your stomach twisted with nerves, but it wasn’t for Izzy. 

You adjusted your shirt, one that clung just right, a little tighter than usual, and checked your makeup in the reflection of a cracked mirror in the hallway. If you were going to play this game, you were going to play to win. 

The band stumbled off stage, drunk on adrenaline and maybe more. You stepped into the chaos of the cramped backstage room just as Duff laughed at something the blonde next to him had said. His arm was lazily slung around her shoulders, but his eyes met yours the second you walked in. He froze. Just for a moment. 

Then he looked away, too fast, too casual, turning back to the girl at his side. But you’d seen it. That flash of surprise.  

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of lingering. 

“Izzy!”, you called out with bright, deliberate energy, your voice slicing through the buzz of conversation like a knife. 

He turned, surprised and then smiled, walking over, guitar still slung across his back. 

“You changed your mind?”, he asked, reaching for you. 

“I couldn’t stay away”, you said, your voice just sweet enough to sound sincere, just low enough that Duff would hear it. You pressed a kiss to Izzy’s lips before he could say anything else, lingering longer than usual. His hands slid to your waist, hesitant, confused by your sudden affection, but not enough to question it. 

When you pulled back, you leaned your head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Duff. 

Still pretending to listen to the blonde, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes anymore. His grip on the beer bottle in his hand tightened slightly, and he shifted his weight, angling himself away from you. 

But not before his eyes flicked back. Once. Twice. 

Your pulse thudded, proud and miserable all at once. 

You hated this. 

Someone handed Izzy a drink and you took it from him, laughing as you sipped it first, then handed it back like you were sharing everything. 

Izzy raised a brow. “You okay?” 

“Perfect”, you said, looking right past him. Straight at Duff. 

He met your gaze this time. And didn’t look away. 

The girl at his side said something again, but he didn’t answer. 

Duff’s eyes burned with a mix of anger and hurt as he suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the backstage buzz into the cool night air. The neon glow of the bar spilled out onto the sidewalk, a harsh contrast to the softness of his tone. 

“You need to stop this”, he said, his voice low and tight, and you knew he was trying to keep his cool, but you could hear the edge underneath. 

“Stop what, Duff? You think you can just ignore me? Act like nothing happened?”, you snapped, hands balling into fists at your sides. The weight of everything it all came crashing down.  

“I’m just supposed to sit back and watch you act like I don’t matter?” 

His jaw tightened, and you could see him fighting with himself. You hated it, seeing him wrestle with his emotions like this. Like he couldn’t make up his mind whether to care or not. 

“You think this is my fault?”, he asked, the words sharp, like they were stabbing at both of you: “That kiss was a mistake. I don’t know what you thought was going to happen, but it didn’t mean anything.” 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it”, you shot back, your chest tight with anger and pain: “Don’t tell me, you’re not thinking about it. Because I am. I’m still thinking about it!” 

You took a step closer, keeping your eyes locked on his.  

“Look me in the eyes and tell me, it didn’t mean anything!” 

Duff looked away, a pained look crossing his face. He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly frustrated.  

“I can’t do this to Izzy. I won’t do this to him. It’s not fair to him.” 

Your heart twisted. You wanted to shout at him; to make him see how unfair it was to you, too. 

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that sooner,”, you muttered bitterly: “Before you kissed me.” 

“You think I wanted this?”, he pleaded, his voice raw: “I didn’t want any of this! I don’t want to hurt Izzy, or you. You’re my best friends. He deserves to be happy. He deserves a friend who isn’t going for the girl he’s dating. And you deserve to be happy with Izzy. I shouldn’t have gotten involved in this” 

“Maybe I don’t want Izzy!”, you shouted and finally understood that no matter how this conversation ended, you had to end things with Izzy, he truly did deserve better than this. “Izzy and I have been doomed since that kiss!” 

“What do you want from me?” 

“I don’t know!” you shouted with pure desperation in your voice.  

“I never should have kissed you. This was a mistake. We were both drunk.” 

“You’re right about one thing”, you said, your voice bitter and cold: “This was a mistake. And I hate having to lie to him about it.” The words were like acid in your mouth, each one burning as it left. 

“It is killing me to lie to him about it!” 

A long silence followed, thick with the tension you could feel in the air between you. 

“You should tell him then”, you said, your voice hollow now. 

And then, as if the universe was making you pay for every moment of confusion and hurt, Izzy appeared. He was standing there in the doorway, looking between the two of you with a quiet, piercing gaze that felt like a punch in the gut. 

“What should he tell me?”, he asked, his voice soft but loaded with uncertainty. 

You turned to him, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over.  

“Duff and I kissed,” you said flatly, the words leaving your mouth without even thinking about them. 

Izzy’s expression flickered. First shock, then a shadow of something else. Confusion. You couldn’t stay. Without another word, you turned and walked away, your chest tight and your stomach twisted into knots. This hadn’t gone the way you had hoped. 

You didn’t look back. 

Not even when you heard Duff calling your name. 

---O--- 

It had been months since you had talked to Duff or Izzy. There wasn’t bad blood between Izzy and you, although you wished you had found a better way to tell him, what had happened. He had picked up a few things from your place the day after the night you had practically shouted at his face, that you had kissed his best friend. 

He truly, had deserved much better. He hadn’t even shouted at you or picked a fight, simply said: “He wished you would’ve told him sooner.” Of course you hadn’t been in a relationship, had only dated for a few weeks but it must’ve stung hearing you had gone behind his back. The entire situation had cost you. It had cost you, your best friend. 

You didn’t know where Duff and Izzy were standing with each other, but it had to be okay, hence GnR was still together and playing gigs, that much you knew. Thank God! There was no way you could have dealt with the guilt of breaking them apart. 

It was bad enough to deal with the loss of the first friend you had ever found in LA. Over the last months your anger had subsided, what had followed was the pain of losing him. You still thought about him and on days like today, you liked to wear his leather jacket, which you had yet to give back to him. This way, it felt like he was still part of your life. 

You hadn’t planned on going out tonight, but your college friend, Cass, had insisted. Something about getting out of your head, letting loose for once.  

The apartment was packed, music pulsing through the walls and lights flickering. You hadn't been out in a long time, but you smiled, nodded along, and followed Cass up the staircase of some guy’s place above a tattoo shop on the Strip. The moment you stepped inside, you felt a strange feeling. 

“I’ll get us something to drink”, Cass told you over the loud music and moved in the direction you suspected the kitchen. 

The apartment was packed with way too many people for its size and the music was good. Maybe, you thought, maybe you could enjoy this. 

Cass returned with two cups of some sweet juice mixed with vodka, which you quickly downed in one big gulp before you made your way into the crowd to dance. Your gaze drifted over the crowd. Some of the people you even knew. Some from parties and bars on the strip, some from college. 

And then you saw him. 

Duff. 

He was standing across the room, beer in hand, talking to someone you didn’t recognize. His hair was messier than usual. You froze. He looked up and saw you. 

His expression didn’t change. Not really. But his entire body stilled, as if someone had hit pause. You thought your heart might drop to the floor. He didn’t move toward you. Neither did you. 

But neither of you looked away. 

The party blurred. People moved between you, laughing, dancing, talking way too loudly, but the two of you remained locked in a silent war of glances. There was no way, you finally had decided to leave your apartment for a night and immediately bumped into him again! What were the chances?! 

You didn’t know what you were doing when you let one of Cass’s friends pull you toward the center of the room. You danced. Maybe to prove something. Maybe to forget something. Duff watched. And then he moved too. Closer to a girl in red heels and heavy eyeliner. He laughed at something she said, and it was like a knife twisting in your chest. Nothing had changed. Months had changed absolutely nothing. 

Fine. Two could play this game. 

You danced harder, closer, body swaying, laughter painted on your lips though it felt hollow. And yet, every time you glanced over, Duff was watching. Always watching. And every time his hand grazed the girl’s arm or she leaned in too close, your pulse flared. 

It wasn’t about the others. It was never about the others. 

You needed another drink. You gave a weak excuse to the guy you had been dancing with and moved towards the kitchen. The apartment wasn’t big, so it wasn’t hard to find. 

Why on earth was he here of all places, and why did your thoughts drift back to your kiss again and again? 

Your hands were trembling as you poured yourself a shot, which you downed before refilling it again. A cigarette, you needed some fresh air and a cigarette. You turned, drink in hand, to head back toward the living room and outside- 

-and walked straight into him in the hallway. For a moment time seemed to stand still.  

He looked exactly the way he had months ago, nothing had change, except maybe a new tattoo on his arm. 

Duff didn’t say a word and neither did you. You felt as if you had left your voice in the kitchen. He just reached out, took the drink from your hand, and set it down on the windowsill beside you. 

“Duff-” 

He cut you off, not with words but with movement. One step forward, one hand sliding behind your neck, and then –suddenly- you were pressed against the wall. His mouth on yours. 

There was no hesitation this time. No restraint. It was heat and months of silence and tension wound into one devastating kiss. His hands gripped your waist. Yours tangled in his shirt. You gasped against him, and he kissed you deeper. 

“I missed you so fucking much, Y/N”, he whispered between sloppy kisses: “I can’t do this anymore.” 

You didn’t know if he meant pretending, avoiding you or denying what this was. 

But you didn’t care. Because neither could you. 

Months of suppressed desire finally burst free and you couldn’t hold yourself back. Now that you had finally given in, you needed him closer and closer. You didn’t care where this would lead, or where it would put the two of you in the long run. You only cared about having him closer. 

“Do you want this?”, he asked you while his lips traveled down your neck and you could do nothing but nod. 

A surprised squeal left your lips, when he grabbed your arm and pulled you along to a room that would turn out to be the bathroom. 

“Fuck, is that my jacket?”, he asked and took a moment to look at you, with your back against the now locked bathroom door. His gaze drifting over your body and stopping at the black bralette you were wearing underneath the jacket, revealing just a little too much. 

“It reminds me of you”, you answer with a smirk before your lips were locked again. 

His tall figure had you pressed against the door and the feeling of his crotch against you through his jeans had your eyes feeling heavy. 

He leaned his head down, so his mouth was able to suck soft marks onto the flesh of your neck and upper chest, unable to wait another minute, while you heard the jingling of his belt and the sipper of his jeans. 

You choked out a whimper when Duff’s hand pushed up your skirt and moved your string to the side and suddenly your full attention was brought back to how the head of his cock was insistently pushing against you.  

He was tall. Looming over you, balancing you with one arm and using his free hand to remind you who to look at.  

“Duff...”, a gasp left your lips when he sunk you down onto his cock, letting gravity do much of the work for him. Every inch felt so fucking good.   

“Fuck”, you gasped, scrambling to hold on to his shoulders and pressing your nails into his flesh, your thighs tightening around him. He was stretching you out, inch by inch. 

He leaned down a bit more to kiss your mouth and swallow your sharp cry – thankfully so, because otherwise everyone out side would’ve heard your cry of pleasure – when he finally bottomed out. You were so full, could barely focus on anything else but how he felt inside of you.  

“I missed you so much”, he whispered. His words almost making you want to cry. 

Duff began to move, rolling his hips and letting out a groan when you tensed up and whined when his body grinded against your clit. His hands gripped your waist and started to speed it up, pulling you up and down his cock like you weighed absolutely nothing. 

When you clenched tightly around him, he mumbled: “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this since the night we kissed.” 

The only warning you could give him before you came, was a bite into his shoulder, muffling your scream. You blacked out for a couple of seconds as he cursed and filled you when you went limp against him. 

Your foreheads were pressed against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Months of tension finally released. Eventually, he grinned and put your feet back on the ground before he swiftly placed another kiss on your forehead. 

“Don’t you dare, let me push you away again”, he pleaded with his lips brushing you soft skin. 

-> MASTERLIST

[estrangedillusion-slashduffizsgf]

Check this duff fic out guys- another banger. Leave some reads and loves💕 on @maraudereestauderelb fic :3

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@sugarrcherryys @alwaysevandelheid @carla-123azerty @chxrrie-b4by @rock-n-roll-queen @gunsnrosesslut @ssaintxx @kookybabygirl @izzystradlinsguitarpick @honestlyjusmarymoon @tranquilitybasegrunge @h0pelesslydevoted @duffrosemckagansslut