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#older duncan shepherd
oc-sickfic-central · 17 days
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Meet the OCs!
These are the main 5 that I will write for! Please feel free to send requests for stories or asking any questions to get to know them more!
Kougami (Koh) Takahashi
Age: 29
Birthday: November 13th, 1994
Nationality: American-Japanese
Appearance: 6'3, medium size build, around 160-170 lbs fluctuates from time to time, long black hair, brown eyes, ivory skin. Does have several piercings: a lip ring on the left side, right ear pierced, and his left eyebrow. Tattoos: two koi fish on his stomach. Various scars including a burn on his right hand that extends up his arm stops before his elbow.
Background:
Koh lived a rough childhood losing his mom when he was a baby to suicide his father became an alcoholic and often was aggressive and neglected Koh. At the age of 3 his dad remarried, he loved his step mom and things were getting better. Until one night he and his parents were in a car accident. Koh's stepmom died on impact while his father was in a medically induced coma and later died. Koh was taken in by his Aunt and Uncle on his father's side and raised a long side his cousin Mike and later Lucy was born.
While in highschool Koh met Allie and the two began dating not long afterwards. They spend their high schools years together and after graduation attempted long distance, while in college Koh began suffering from chronic stomach pain and began self medicating with heroin after the doctors couldn't diagnose him. The addiction got so bad Koh was forced to drop out of school, he then broke up with Allie rather than tell her the truth.
After dropping out of college he began running with an up and coming gang things started getting serious and worried he'd head up dead or in jail Koh bailed and headed back home. Hoping his Aunt and Uncle would help him they did the opposite, told him he needed to get clean before he could show his face again.
Feeling defeated Koh decided to live his life on the street, picking up odd jobs when he could to feed his addiction. Along the way he met Charlie, Amber, Duncan, and Bradley. They helped Koh however they could but deep down they wanted him to get help.
After living on the streets for nearly 5 years he was dumpster diving one night and reunited with Allie who owned a cafe. She invited him inside and offered him a meal.
Allie helped Koh get into rehab and once he got out offered for him to move in and start working at the cafe. The two got back together and through many ups and downs have remained together ever since.
Koh plans to purpose later this year.
Allison (Allie) Shepherd
Age: 28
Birthday: October 5th, 1995
Nationality: American
Appearance: 5'2, 110 lbs, short brown hair, brown eyes, and light freckles, lightly tanned skin. No tattoos yet but does have her ears pierced, nose and tragus.
Background:
Allie grew up with a big family. 2 siblings Ben (eight years older) and Chloe (five years younger) Along with her cousins Connor and James who were always around. Allie's parents supported her with everything she ever wanted to do. Her dad is a renowned heart surgeon and her mom helps with local politics as much as she can.
Growing up Allie was loved and cared for spending time with friends and family she was never a lone. Ben and her were close despite the age difference and even more when Ben was in a terrible motorcycle accident that nearly killed him.
While he recovered, Allie helped her mom and caretakers as much as she could after she got home from school. Little did she know Ben became an addict from the painkillers. When she returned from studying abroad in London Ben was supposed to meet her for lunch but didn't show. Allie found him unresponsive in his apartment. The paramedics brought him back and he begged Allie not to tell anyone. After he was discharged Ben stayed with Allie while they found him a rehab out of state. They told the family Ben went backpacking and they had no reason to doubt him.
As Ben focused on getting clean, Allie and her best friend Hannah opened up a cafe a life long dream for them both. The two girls worked endless nights and days between school and work and it all paid off. Their cafe became the hang out spot for everyone and it reunited her and Koh.
These OCs take place in a different universe think of it as Tokyo Ghoul meets Devils Line
Spawns: creatures that feed on human flesh and or blood. As they evolved they began to blend in with humans.
Indigo Walker
Age: 26
Birthday: October 31st, 1997
Nationality: European/Japanese
Appearance: 6'1, skinny for his height, turquoise hair, one blue eye, and one green, pale white skin, scar diagonal on his left eye, no tattoos and no piercings.
Background:
Indigo grew up in London for about half his life with his mom, his father worked in Japan. He was kept hidden due to him being a half-spawn. Half-spawns were seen as impure and dangerous most that were born were killed as infants.
When his mother gave birth she knew Indigo's father was a Spawn and afraid her son would be killed she gave birth in an undisclosed location. He was born with bright hair and two different eyes, a clear indicator he was a half-spawn. When Indigo was old enough she began dying his hair and telling him how important it was he keep this secret. Not long after his 13th birthday his mom got him contacts to hide his one green eye.
Unfortunately it wasn't long that Indigo's mother became sick and was no longer able to care for him so he moved in with his father. His dad was a Spawn detective. Indigo's father was never home causing him to fend for himself. At 15 his dad disappeared after allegations came out that his father was a Spawn and several incidents put him as a prime suspect. Indigo was taken in by a fellow detective and his wife where Indigo finally began to feel normal. He continued to hide his secret from everyone.
As the years went on laws were passed allowing for treatments to become available for all Spawns to control their hunger for humans and allow them to work alongside humans. Feeling safe he could trust his adoptive family he told them. They were shocked and scared but realized the whole time Indigo was with them he never hurt them. They helped him receive the treatment and for the first time in his life he was able to show off his hair and eyes though he received looks he didn't care.
Indigo enrolled in the Academy where he graduated as a Spawn investigator at the age of 24 he was partnered up with a high ranking officer named Mercury and began his career. He would later meet Mercury's sister Luna.
Mercury Evans
Age: 37
Birthday: July 8th, 1986
Nationality: Japanese
Appearance: 6'2, medium size build, clean cut everything, blue eyes, and raven hair, ivory skin color.
Background:
Mercury always looked up to his father, highly decorated Spawn investigator, top of his class at the academy. Loosing his parents was kick to the chest but he used it as fuel to be the best he could be and to find whoever killed his parents.
He also became guardian to his little sister Luna at the age of 17 with help from some distant family members as well. Raising Luna was challenging at times but he wouldn't have changed it for anything.
Despite all the obstacles he enrolled in the academy a year after his parents died and graduated top of his class he worked long hours but coming home to Luna every night was worth it. He would eventually meet Kari and the two would began dating. Mercury felt ease knowing Luna wasn't alone at night after Kari moved in. His love for her was unlike anything he had ever experienced.
Luna Evans
Age: 26
Birthday: April 19th, 1998
Nationality
Appearance: 5'3, average size, long rose gold hair, blue eyes, ivory colored skin
Background
Luna was just 5 when her parents were brutally murdered in their own home, she watched it happen and despite the gruesome scene she barely remembers it. Mercury began raising her in the city after moving out of their childhood home and into a high rise apartment. Despite Mercury's goals it didn't stop him from being the best big brother he was.
Though Luna learned to care for herself at a young age she began mature and dependent so Mercury wouldn't have to worry. Once Mercury landed his dream job as Spawn investigator Luna spent a lot of time at the station.
One day after an infiltration she met Indigo while he was changing in her brother's office. It was a slow burn relationship until several events happened causing the two to fall in love and begin dating
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extravalgant · 1 year
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(leans in your askbox like someone leaning around the corner)
Excuse me but did I hear correctly that uhm... .. . . you wrote something about Duncan? Duncan GruncanWuncan? And that you might post that? (holds out both of my palms like a starving child) Could you perhaps.. . . .. maybe spare me a glance? Just a silly willy little peak? Bit of aaaaaa preview?
(nah I'm just playing you don't got to if you don't want to LMAAAOOOOO but if you ever do post that thing about Duncan I would LOVE to consume that 👀 because I love Duncan and I love other people's writing a normal healthy amount)
ITS ALRIGHT BAHAHA I WAS GOING TO POST IT EVENTUALLY!!! nothing too long or big since it was just a couple musings i did about the necromancers in game when i was on my break at work >_^
i have written about him here and a bit here if u do wanna see more heehee hoohoo
since its so short i can share it right here and right now but some parts of the responses (particularly morganthes) might be wrong or i misremembered something just on the basis that i was too lazy to go back and double check LOL
necromancers always have something to prove
malistaire drake, who sets out to prove that the dead can return — that love would conquer all, that he could make deities older than him, older than the current spiral, bend to his whims and wishes. 
morganthe, who sets out to prove that she can master astral magic, that if she can't, then she'll force it to. to prove to merle ambrose that she's still the capable young wizard that was proud of her, once upon a time. that she didn't deserve to be casted out by her peers and stripped of the magic she loved so dearly. that she could spin a better spiral, weave a better world. 
duncan grimwater, who sets out to prove that he is useful. that it's not just the wizard (now savior of the spiral, now arcanum scholar, now arcanum liaison) who has the potential to take their magic to new, greater heights. that he is loyal, that everyone deserves second chances – that he wants someone, anyone, to look at him and see the potential for something more brimming underneath. that he is worth all the effort.
malorn ashthorn, who sets out to prove that if there is no one else to turn to, then he is there. to prove that his stay at the end of the path, where the old death school used to be, was purposeful. to guide and shepherd new and fresh novices, to become the gentle hand that nurtures the knowledge of death and the way it is taught. to stay as a constant, in everyone’s life.
and you... what were you trying to prove? it seems that everywhere you turned, someone was always doubting your intentions. shadow and necromancy were two sides of the same coin, parallels in the way they demonstrated their magic. shadow took and took and took, and all necromancy wants is for you to feel safe, to feel secure. even if it means taking it from something else.
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saintreinettewrites · 9 months
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If you get this, answer w three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! Anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog :)
I have a doggo! His name is Duncan & he's a Texas heeler (Australian shepherd/cattle dog mix). He just turned 10. He makes the best facial expressions & I love him very much.
I'm older than my brother by only 20 months. It's just the two of us, so I'm the elder son. I relate pretty heavily to a lot of the "eldest daughter syndrome" stuff, though, because I'm FTM & that's how I was treated as a kid.
I'm otherkin/alterhuman/however you want to refer to it. I've been musing on how I could potentially include that experience in my work, but I haven't come to any particular conclusions yet.
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hecohansen31 · 5 years
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Not Of Age: (Duncan Shepherd+Reader)
A/N: Hello there, lovelies!
How was everything?
I am a bit stressed out for various thing, but also… you know what would help a lot? FEEDBACK (please if you have a minute of your time spare it to either heart this fic, comment on it, or reblog it, only if you liked it, obviously) (+you are always welcome to tell me what went wrong, what went right, in either my messages or in my asks, I am always happy to get one so…).
Also this is all inspired to something that happened to me (no I sadly don’t know any Duncan Shepherds in real life), since I get a lot mistaked for younger than I actually am (and I know it might sound strange but it is something I am insecure about, because people don’t take you seriously).
(Plus: one of my photos of the collage is actually mine, because I am wearing the dress, I described in the fic, so you can see it better+I don’t know I love the way that dress is one me…so) (Also i censored my face, because I was without make-up+I was wearing a very obnoxious flower crown).
Plus, before this gets controversial, Duncan in this fic is not interested into Reader because she is younger and might not seem of age, but he is more attracted to her “potrayal of youth”.
As always… I talk too much so I shall leave you to appreciating the fanfiction (let me know if you want a sequel because I mgiht be working on something right now!).
SUMMARY: You don’t show your age, and this got you in so much troubles, such as the one you got into after an unexpected visit on a Saturday’s morning, in an extra meeting with Duncan Shepherd
WORDS: 2,3 K.
WARNINGS: Just Duncan being flirty, and mostly kissing (no smut), also Older! Man in a relationship with a younger girl!
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She had always been the girl, who looked much younger than her true age .
Both for her terrible childish manners (not only she still had the that naivety which was only seen in children, but also a brattish character that sometimes got her in trouble, mostly in relationships) both for the fact that her appearance was juvenile and much more belonging to a teen than an actually woman, who was 25 years old, which prompted many awkward and weird situations.
Such as the typical bar patron who asked her ID after she ordered alcohol, alongside a few of her partners on internet picking her up just because she looked much younger or mumbling something as “are you legal?”, when they saw her.
And although many people thought that it was an advantage, it was something she personally found annoying, mostly when people reminded her of it as it meant she was somehow shallow and not worthy of being taken seriously.
Many of her friends had also by now a kid on the way and were already married (although some settled for the first one that came through the window and it showed), so being the only single friend, not only sucked, but meant that apparently she was less trust worthy than a pregnant woman, alongside the fact that she didn’t seem to belong at all whenever a wedding was mentioned or a baby shower, and she just stared at the wall till they all giggled together, joining her friends there.
That day she seemed young not only because she wasn’t wearing her usual heavy make-up, which helped a lot with making her feel not only more confident but also a few years older, but she was dressed in a pretty sundress she had wanted to wear to the typical brunch her friends had on the first day of summer, setting themselves in a park in order to talk a bit.
The sundress was a perfect solution for the warm weather which coated her body in the form of sweat; but also she honestly loved the way the dress fit on her body, giving her a pretty hourglass figure, with its 50’s style..
She had bought the dress something like ten years ago, it had been her first dress ever, and although it was a bit ruined by the excessive washing she still felt comforted by wearing it and it still looked pretty amazing: its organza skirt bore a flowery pattern, her favorite!
She hadn’t worn make-up, stopped by the terrible hotness of the day, choosing to hide herself from the eyes of her friends and the sun with sunglasses and a straw hat, brought back from a very old journey, but which gave her a “Heiress on Vacation” kind of look.
The last touch of the look would have been sandals, but she had to go for sneaker since her boss called her at work for an emergency reunion, ruining her entire day of the brunch.
She hadn’t had enough time to change into something more “work appropriate” so she had just to go with her sundress and sneakers, hoping nobody would notice the terrible match.
The hat had been gently discarded to the secretary, meanwhile she “helloed” her and her boss made her a sign to move onto her office quickly, where she plumped down on her turning chair and checked into a mirror the state of her hair, after she had walked (more like ran) to work, sweating like a pig, (to hide it, she applied a generous amount of the extra-deodorant she had in her office for emergency such as this one).
She knew nothing about what she was supposed to be expecting.
Her boss had just mumbled something about “a very important client cancelling a meeting and asking for another on Saturday morning” when she wasn’t supposed to be working, but her boss had asked for a favor, alongside a promise of an extra on her paycheck to take the job.
“It will only last an hour maximum, I just need you to make him sign the documents and nobody is answering me…” because the offices were supposed to be closed on Saturday, and knowing this no clients were allowed in the building on Saturday…. alongside the fact that many people at 8 A.M. of Saturday were still sleeping with their phones off, meanwhile she had had to wake up, since not only she had had to get ready but the park for the brunch was two hours away from her.
“Ok… I will take it, but please… sign it as extra-work” she had mumbled, before sending her friends a message on how she would be sadly missing at least the first part of the brunch and to leave her something to eat, since she would come an hour later than she had programmed.
And maybe even more…
Because after what seemed like half an hour after the appointment had been set, she stilll saw nobody and she had even tried to ask the secretary (also extraordinarily there) if she had known something about the “mysterious man”, just to get a shake of head and a whisper on how much she hated that job (on which she agreed).
She was halfway through painting her nails, the one she had accidentally scratched on her way to the job, when she heard a knock on her door, surprising her enough that she almost painted her dress of the same teal color of her nail polish.
She mumbled a “please enter”, meanwhile she meticulously hid the nail polish’s bottle and breathed hot air on her nails to get them to dry quicker, not wanting to leave signs on the poor man’s hand.
And meanwhile she did all this, a man walked in her office, a very handsome and known man, whom she knew because of all the “Vanity Fair” ’s covers her boss had in her office, practically worshipping the self-made man, Duncan Shepherd had become after his exit from jail.
And not only did he look better in reality than on magazine cover, but he looked at her with two of the prettiest eyes she had even seen, preying on her as if she was some kind of water in a sandy desert.
She felt immediately the bush rising to her face, regretting not having taken a jacket with her, leaving her cleavage exposed since the dress had a deep “v” neck, which prompted a lot of skin to be shown and although it was pretty breathy for the summer, it didn’t mean that it was appropriate for the workplace.
Although to be stared like that by such a powerful man…
It wasn’t the “I want to make you feel like a piece of meat” stare so many frat boys gave her, but it was the “I will have you on your desk in five minutes, if you are interested”.
-Ehm… I think I have the wrong office, I was looking for Mrs (L/N)- he mumbled, thinking her to be the wrong person, but she just mumbled a shy “you are in the right place”.
-… I am Mrs (L/N), but you may call me (Y/N)- you knew it was highly unprofessional to share your name with a client, mostly somebody who was here just to sign but you tried to make it all seem a bit more relaxed, more for yourself than for him, who would look at ease even in a Nordic climate -I am sorry for my inappropriate state, this meeting was scheduled at last minute and I was on my way to a friendly brunch-.
-I am extremely sorry for the meeting at this hour and day, but I had a problem with the scheduled appointment, and I wouldn’t be back in America till a month… so…-.
-Don’t worry, Mr Shepherd, I am more than happy to make an exception for you- she didn’t mean to make it sound so flirty, mostly because she wasn’t used to try her luck with guys like him, not to talk about the fact that her childish naivety scared away boys, but this one, stayed, interested, staring at her.
-Well thank you very much, then- he mumbled, matching her flirty tone, meanwhile coming nearer, where she showed him the chair, raising up and showing a bit of her legs, which made him lower his gaze on them, and she faked not noticing although she raised a bit on her toes to show much more -… give me a pen and I will be out of your hair soon-.
He smiled brightly at her sudden goofy attempt to grab a pen, just to grasp simply air, making an awkward figure, to which he giggled, till she offered the pen, and moved the contract for their agency in his hands, meanwhile their hands bumped just a bit together, electricity shooting through her veins.
She even lowered herself a bit, the cleavage appearing more evident and he caught it with his eyes as they lowered upon the papers, meanwhile she simply dropped on her elbows and her ass shot up, which got her in a very explicit position.
He read the papers, or at least appeared to be reading those chewing the pen, before setting it down and smile at her as he caught her looking at him, nibbling her bottom lip.
-I didn’t think that you were Mrs (L/N) because you seem so much younger- he mumbled, taking time, clearly, meanwhile she settled swiftly back a bit, embarrassed by how freely she had acted with him, although he had given her clear indications he was into her and was trying his best to flirt her up.
But he was still a client till he walked outside the door.
-Oh, believe me but a lot of people think the same- she giggled, trying to breathe out her embarrassment.
-… it isn’t a bad thing- he mumbled, meanwhile looking at her and smiling at her flushed cheeks -… I wish I looked younger! People nowadays ask me if I need glasses to see-.
She laughed heartedly, meanwhile he looked at her through his lashes as if to say he was serious.
-You look amazing, Mr Shepherd- this got him to puff his chest even further almost as a proud bird, which got a genuine smile from her -… and I mean it is nice to know you can somehow age slower, but also… a lot of people tend not to take you seriously if you don’t look mature enough, plus, guys are not interested into younglings…-.
This got her a shocked look from him, which changed swiftly in an outraged look.
-… boys tend to have that kind of thoughts- he mumbled, shooting her a serious glance, that went through her entire body -…men don’t-.
And he was a man, probably ten years her senior, although she had heard he was much older than what he seemed with a pendant for a new girl on his arm each week, much younger than him, so she knew what was going on, although she was not his usual supermodel.
-Thank you, I will set my mind onto dating only men from now on- she mumbled, shyly, before tapping at the paper, to remind him what was going on, shooting him a knowing look; she couldn’t because of so many reasons, although she wanted.
-You are very welcome- he muttered, before setting a last glance on her body and swiftly signing the paper -Then is it done? -.
-It is- she replied, moving to accompany him to the door, as a way to let him even further know that she sadly couldn’t.
-Then we are not a client and a professional, right? – he asked.
And with her typical childish naivety, not fully understanding his motives she answered.
-… yes-.
And he swiftly closed the door, behind them, before pulling her against the door with a sudden roughness she found herself liking, and left her legs trembling, before diving on her lips, with his, with much more gentleness than the push against the door, a bit dipping her as they did in the movies.
He was far gentler than what he had promised her with the “door movement”, getting her wondering what would come next… a kiss or a slap…
But he was careful with her now, probably after the yelp of pain he got from having pushed her back against the hard wood, before pushing her towards another kind of “hard wood”, much more human.
And this got a moan of pleasure transferred from her mouth to his, opening herself to his tongue and a languid caress from it, before it moved back to trace, as if to know them by heart, her lips.
When he separated himself from her, much more due to the lack of air than because he wanted to, he still kept her against him.
Her sundress had risen up a bit, and now her thighs were even more exposed, meanwhile her cleavage was widened up by the rushed tries and friction of her dress against his crisp elegant shirt, rigorously back, whereas hers was beige, matching their respective personalities.
He moved his eyes from the ground to her face, just to cup it and keeping the stare till their lips were near each other and then he closed them, as she did, but nothing but dry air went through them and when she opened them he had disappeared, which left her to wonder whether or not something had happened, till she saw the signed paper and felt the little ticket hidden in the cleavage of her dress, with an address from an hotel in Italy written on it and a number on the other side.
She wondered about what it meant, why her and how he managed to slip it in her dress without knowing why…
But now apparently she had a way to find it all out.
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eclipsedpascal · 2 years
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Within This Room
Duncan Shepherd x Reader
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You've been having a hard time the past little while, leading to you staying in bed for a several days straight whilst battling the demons that left you there; but you're worried about the effect your mental state is having on your boyfriend, Duncan.
Warnings: depression, crying, some self hatred bcs why not and themes of loneliness.
Notes: this is definitely the most depressing thing ever ever written, but there's also a good amount of fluff at the end dw😌 i'm working through some personal stuff at the moment and I found myself sitting down to write with no aim, this is the finished product. Just needed to write some comfort character Duncy:)
Word Count: 2.6k
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The Horizontal blinds did little to block the ambient lights of the late city below, casting silhouettes of themselves aline with the faintest of blue hues onto the bedroom's once grey walls. They tinted the room with a rather dull pigment, but one bright enough to slightly illuminate the dark and lifeless room they had seeped upon. Bleak, shadowed sheets appeared in creased mounds of cotton, piled over the fragile body buried deep within them, doing their most to bring warmth and comfort, but failing pathetically. The only other light in the dreary room came from the modest analogue clock which had found itself a home on the bedside nightstand but only a few months before, staying only in your mind as a constant reminder of the time that had managed to be wasted, cocooned inside the artificial closeness of those feather filled sheets.
The clock read 1:23; it’s luminous red writing shone brightly into the hole you had created in the covers so many hours before, only in effort to poke your face out enough as to not smother yourself after too long of breathing the same recycled air. The light lay against your despondent face, creating the illusion of what felt like the only heat source inside the gelid room. If it weren’t for logical reason, you would have come to the conclusion the space was growing colder every other minute for no purpose other than to spite you, that it was purposely keeping you from the warmth you craved so dearly. But it was the clock that mocked you; the only thing bringing you comfort within those unfeeling four walls and yet the thing that had been cruelly tormenting you the most.
Guilt consumed you for hiding in the sheets for the length of the day, only leaving the bed once to run to the bathroom after holding your bladder so long. You were convinced you’d given yourself UTI after procrastinating going to the bathroom merely 8 steps away for as long as you had. You at least grabbed a snack before returning to your blanketed residence for the foreseeable future, but you had found food wasn’t as easy to stomach in your current state than you had hoped it might be. It really shouldn’t have surprised you when the sugary food only aggravated your saddened and sickly state further.
The past few weeks had been difficult to say the absolute least. After striving to stay productive and denying your feelings of mental pain for as long a stretch as you had, not only your mind but your body had reached its breaking point, strain having left it empty of all its required energy. So after several days of uncompromising laziness leaving you bound to the large penthouse apartment with not even the power to think without wanting to fall right back to sleep; unless it was to scrutinise yourself of course, that you had all the time in the world for, you were perplexed at how you still managed to be exhausted when your lover would finally return from work.
In the past, whenever Duncan would prepare for work you would always do your absolute best to disrupt his compulsively detailed morning routine. Enticing him to stay in bed with suggestions of the many activities that could be pursued usually did the trick, or nagging him as he brushed his teeth in hopes it made him playfully pick you up and kiss you with toothpaste still smudged on lips to get back at you for your irritating behaviours, or helping him with breakfast and slyly pointing out how hard he had worked the day before, so perhaps he should just take some time off; I mean he was the boss after all.
It didn't matter what it involved, you would do anything to get more time with the man you loved so dearly, but recently you hadn’t the same motivation. The desperation you felt to be close to him was at an all time high, yes, but the guilt you felt over your newly depressed state and the effect you feared it may have on him left you pushing him away more than ever. What made it so much worse was that he didn't seem to mind, staying in his office till later, spending just a few more hours writing his emails at home on the sofa before coming to join you in bed than he usually would. What if he wanted this? To be apart from you more? Perhaps you had given him the glimpse he needed to realise you weren’t as important in his life then once believed.
The thoughts that spiralled themselves down the tangled and knotted up thread inside your mind had been growing more and more heart wrenching by the day. All you wanted was for him to hold you, and yet it was as if he had been manifesting the opposite. Today had been no different, if not worse.
He had left earlier than usual, the only memory of him from the morning being him kissing your half awoken form goodbye and murmuring words of love to you, a heart warming message if it hadn’t been for him working some of the longest hours known to man all day. Surely he knew now was when you needed him most? You always struggled when it came to telling people that you were down like you were now, but it never mattered with Duncan. He was always so in tap with you and your emotions due to how similar the both of you dealt with these kind of issues.
You had heard him come home in the late evening, his footsteps moving around the kitchen before pattering their way to his home office where they had been firm the rest of the night. Most the time he would check in on you after getting settled, but not tonight. Not even a word.
You couldn’t blame him for throwing himself into his work of course, you understood his recent aversion to you. You knew your attitude came off as insolent and arrogant, not even being able to hold a conversation with him without seeming uninterested and careless. If you hadn’t hurt him with your blasé and words, then your withdrawals from time spent together outside the bedroom had definitely done the job. You wished with all your power the ability to place your freezing, bare feet on the expansive wooden flooring, wanting nothing more than to visit him whilst he worked and apologise until you could feel your lips no more. It was as if you had entered paralysis, not being able to do anything other than lay on your side and feel your warm tears uncomfortably stream down the side of your face onto the now slightly dark puddled spot on the mattress as you stared at that damed clock.
You felt your face growing increasingly hot with a sour mixture of self hatred and guilt as you watched the digital numbers on its face change once more, but you had endured enough. Using all of your strength, you unsheathed your numbing arm from the fortress of fabric around you, gathering all of your might into its swing and striking your palm into the side of the clocks plastic body. It flew from its previously permanent spot on the table, impacting the wall of blue hues and shadows and shattering into a few rather large pieces.
The sudden clatter startled you, the only noise in the room up until this point having been your pitiable sobs and shallow breathing. The noise echoed through the room, forcing you to clench your eyelids shut and clentch up your face with regret. Opening your eyes, you noticed the still functioning red light was now open to the rooms stuffy air and far brighter than before, mixing with the walls icy tones and creating a rather dark purple as your frustrations rose to a level not known before and amounting in an overwhelming amount of tears flooding down your face.
What was once sobs had developed into cry’s you couldn’t hold in, Sniffing and wailing at your futile attempt to destroy the only thing in the room holding you accountable for your selfishness.
You distinguished the sound of urgent footsteps making their way down the long corridor to your bedroom before being interrupted by the door whooshing its way open. Duncan halted his steps as he entered the room, assessing the confusing situation he had walked into but never letting go of the doors silver handle. His eyes moved from the broken clock on the floor to the seemingly trembling lump of whimpering duvet on the bed before him.
His features dropped. His lips opening slightly and faltering before they could speak. brows creased, drooping as the deep rooted ache it brought him to see you in so much pain dragged them down. He slowly closed the door behind him, thinking about how to approach you next and hoping he wouldn’t just upset you further.
Trying to shield yourself from the impeding questioning Duncan would surely be pursing after your more than odd behaviour, you pushed your face down into the sheets and listened diligently to his steps, still bawling quietly when his weight created an imbalance on the bed next to you.
You felt his hand grace your leg through the duvet, stroking simple lines over your skin in attempt to calm your chaotic breathing. “What happened, sweetheart?” He asked gently, not really expecting an answer from you in your current state, but wanting to bring you out of your shell enough to see the face he missed so awfully.
You were frozen with anxiety, fighting yourself to speak up and explain what had happened, wanting to apologise profusely but not being able to squeak out a thing but whines.
Wanting to be closer, he adjusted where he sat next you and cautiously lifted the blanket from over your head, finding your cheek and immediately swiping away the trails of salty water that led from your closed eyes. “Y/n, please talk to me.” His voice cracked ever so slightly when he spoke. He slid a hand underneath your shaking body and lifted you up to his chest, cradling you as close as he could to himself and allowing you to rest your face on his shirt, dampening its expensive fabric with your lament.
He held you like that for a while, hushing you and rocking you back and forth as you began to even out your breathing. Drying tears had glued your eyelids together so much it hurt to finally open them and look up at Duncan’s concerned face. It pained you seeing him so filled with worry for you, and that was enough to push you into saying what you had been needing to for days now.
“I-i’m s-o, s-so sorry, i’m s-sorry.” Your words open the flood gates once more, blubbering into the collar of his shirt and grasping onto this shoulder and curls with your hands as you desperately attempted to apologise for your behaviour over and over again.
He let out an almost amused sigh at our words. “No, no, no. Look at me Y/N.” He held your face with both hands now, bringing it up towards his own and wiping your reddened cheeks yet again. “You have nothing too apologise for. Nothing.” He shook his head, punctuating his words as he held eye contact with your water filled eyes. “It’s not your fault you're struggling right now. Whatever it is you need to do to feel better, I want you to do that and not ever feel like you gotta apologise to me for it. Now if you feel like I can help you with any of those things, all I ask is that you tell me; But that is the only thing you ever have to say, got it? Don’t you dare apologise to me for hurting.” Feeling emotional himself, he kissed your face a few quick times and squeezed you into him as he finished talking, muffling your cries with his chest. “You’ve done nothing worth apologising over.”
Your heart clenched at his words. You never understood how you had gotten as lucky as you had with Duncan; why he had chosen you to love over others was a question you pondered often, but never came across an answer to. But his words still confused you, why had he been separating himself from you so frequently if this was truly the case? “I-i don’t understand” you got out between rapid breaths. “If I’ve n-nothing to apologise for, why have you been ke-keeping yourself from me so often?” You wiped your nose on your sleeve, sniffling up and awaiting an answer from him, but being far too nervous to look directly into his assessing eyes.
He moved his now disappointed gaze to those badly shut horizontal blinds in front of him, the lights of outside shining across all of his skins imperfections and reflecting against every stubble of hair in his beard. “That’ll of been my mistake.” He looked back at you almost apologetically. “I assumed you wanted space from me.”
You took in a shaky breathe. “But I’ve been w-withdrawn and cruel to you.” You looked up at him, opening your lips and beginning to mouth an ‘i’m sorry’ when he stopped you in your tracks. “Sweetheart you’ve done nothing of the sort. You’ve just been tired; never cruel.” He leant his forehead down on yours, closing his eyes and deeply breathing you in. It stung him to think you had spent your time locked up in this room with your own misery so long you’d managed to convince yourself of such things.
“Y/N, I love you.” You felt as if you were look into each others souls now, noses touching and eyes never parting. “I love you so much and I hate seeing you beat yourself up like you have.” The last tear you had left to cry finally pooled over your brimming eyelid at his words, too lost in his eyes to even notice its stream ending at the curve of your lips.
“I just don’t wanna feel like this anymore. I feel as if I’ll be stuck here forever with these feelings, stuck forever in this fucking room.” You looked around the space and what had become of it during you stay, suddenly wanting nothing more than to leave it.
Taking this opportunity to save you from your own mind, he spoke. “Come on then, let me run you a bath hm? Get some food after?” Duncan mused at you, eyes racing back and forth as they attempted to figure you out.
You looked back at him, holding onto his face with your hand and thinking about how much you had missed his touch during the touring time you spent in your own company. “T-that would be nice.” A small smile amounted on your face, the first in some time. Duncan noticed this, and couldn't help himself but lean down and kiss the first sign of happiness he’d seen on you in far too long. He didn’t take his lips of yours as he gathered you up in his arms, lifting you into his cradle and standing up from the now empty pile of deflated sheets.
He turned from where you had been residing on the bed, walking past the forgotten analog clock and its many reminders, to the closed bathroom door that when opened shone a bright and warming white light onto your face, half hidden in the crook of Duncans neck. Stepping into the cleansing rooms light, he watched as you breathed in a deep sigh of relief at the change in atmosphere, chuckling under his breathe at the smile you attempted to hide under his jaw.
He closed the door after him, finally leaving the consuming solitude of the dark and desolate room behind you.
●●●●●●●●
Thank you sm for reading!!:)💗
Tags: @celestialrequiem @ntxoza @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @blakescoven @ritualmichael @ghostangels @ferndolan @brattylovee @7-wonders @lavenderahs @9layerdevilfoodcake @chicaluna2410 @dailylangdon @kitty4860 @lovelylangdonx as always, I just tagged whoever I thought might be interested, but I haven't posted in a while its very likely I'm wrong!! so if you want to be removed or added from the tag list just lemme know:)
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7-wonders · 4 years
Note
Any chance you could do a professor Duncan and reader, where the reader goes to a college party and gets drunk. She calls him to pick her up and she’s just being clingy and shit?
I’ve literally been thinking about this idea on and off for MONTHS now, so I’m really glad that you sent this to me!
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The blue light emanating from the phone has Duncan’s eyes fluttering open. Although he had promised himself that he wasn’t going to fall asleep, the late hour--Duncan checks the time and groans when he sees that it’s only 1 in the morning, begrudgingly conceding that you may be right when you tease him about being an old man--dragging his eyelids shut. The only reason he’s up this late is also the reason why his phone is now blowing up.
Logically, Duncan knows that he doesn’t need to stay up and make sure that your night at a college party goes well. After all, you are a pseudo-adult who is perfectly capable of making her own choices and being responsible for her own wellbeing. Still, he can’t help but feel mildly responsible for you. You’re not even in an actual relationship, although that’s more due to stubbornness than a lack of actual feelings. But, for better or for worse, you trust him, and he holds your opinion of him in high regard.
Duncan hadn’t expected you to even spare him a passing thought tonight. After all, you’re young and vibrant and fun, surrounded by others who are like you. What makes him believe that you’re going to think about the older professor who you can’t even be seen in public with? It’s unhealthy, how much Duncan cares for you, but he can’t deny how his heart stutters when he answers his phone.
“Hello?” Duncan says, the heavy bass of whatever bar or house party you’re at forcing him to hold the phone away from his ear just slightly.
“Hi!” you squeal loudly, Duncan immediately relaxing upon hearing the sound of your voice. “Oh shit, did I wake you up?”
“No, I haven't gone to bed yet.” A half-truth, but it’s one that you accept easily. “Are you having fun?”
“So much fun!” All of the different sounds of music and people talking and yelling would be a little overwhelming, but all that Duncan can hear are your drunken giggles as you try to decide what you want to say next. Despite the late hour, Duncan can’t help but smile. “Duncan?”
The background noise softens, and Duncan assumes you’ve managed to make your way outside. “Hm?”
“Oh,” you laugh, “I thought you had hung up.”
“Nope, I’m still here, princess.” He hears someone, probably one of your friends, call your name. “Why are you on the phone with me? Shouldn’t you be with your friends?”
“Mm, it’s almost last call.”
“How are you getting home?” Duncan knows that you would never drive drunk, but he doesn’t trust your friends as much as he trusts you.
“We’re getting a Lyft, but...” you trail off, attention captured by the sound of people cheering in the bar before the clearing of Duncan’s throat steers you back on track. “Oh my god I’m so sorry, I promise I’m not drunk!”
“I’m sure you’re not,” Duncan chuckles at your obvious lie. “What were you saying?”
“Umm, we’re getting a Lyft, but I really don’t want to ride with a bunch of drunk people since I, myself, am not drunk.”
“Of course.”
“Soooooo,” you drag out the word, and he knows what you’re going to ask before you ask it. You’re not nearly as clever as drunk you thinks you are. “I was wondering if you would wanna pick me up?”
“That wouldn’t be overstepping any boundaries?” Duncan had actually offered to pick you up in the first place, but you had turned him down based on the fear of somebody seeing you with him.
“Boundaries, schmoundaries! I miss you, and I wanna see you!”
He should at least attempt to act a little annoyed at the request, but Duncan’s so thrilled to be needed by you in such a domestic way that he’s immediately up and grabbing his keys. “Send me your location, okay?”
“Oh my god!” you gasp. “I love that song!”
“Not what I meant. I don’t know where to pick you up if I don’t know where you are.”
“Location incoming! See you soon, Dunc!” You hang up before Duncan can get another word in, sending him the requested location so that he can pick you up.
As expected, you’re at one of the popular college bars. Duncan hates that he knows which bars are popular with students, but it’s impossible to tune out his students excitedly chattering on Monday mornings about their weekends. He pulls into a parking spot, thanking his tinted windows for the privacy they provide. He’s about to text you when you come stumbling out of the bar, waving exaggeratedly in his direction.
Duncan’s eyes shamelessly rack up and down your figure, the high-waisted jeans you’re wearing perfectly accentuating your ass and the white crop top flashing a strip of your stomach. You open the passenger door, laughing in glee when you see that Duncan actually is here.
“Duncan!” you cheer, clambering into the car and closing the door behind you. “You came!”
“You asked me to, remember?”
Nodding, you fumble with the seatbelt before finally getting yourself buckled into the car. Duncan stifles a laugh at the way you stare at everything your gaze falls on, as if you’re seeing it for the first time. As Duncan begins to drive, he notices that you’re inching your outstretched palm closer to him. It’s an obvious plea for him to hold your hand, but he’s interested to see how drunk you handles the lack of attention.
As it turns out, you don’t handle inattention very well when you’re drunk. You keep glancing over at him as you hope to get his attention until your hand is nearly on his lap. Finally you’ve had enough, and you huff loudly.
“Dunc, hold my hand!” you groan, jutting your bottom lip out in a pout.
“Oh, I’m sorry princess, you didn’t ask!” You’re a little too inebriated to detect his sarcasm, continuing to frown at him until he places his large hand in yours. “I’m assuming you enjoyed yourself, then?”
“Yes!” You kiss Duncan’s cheek before laying your head on his shoulder. “We played a couple of rounds of pool, which I’m shockingly good at when I’ve had a couple of drinks.”
Duncan pretends to be shocked. “I thought you said you weren’t drunk!”
“I may have fibbed just a little bit.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
When Duncan parks in the parking garage of his apartment, it takes a moment for you to realize that you’re not at your apartment. “Why are we here?”
“I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re drunk, (Y/N).”
“I’d be fine,” you huff, getting out of the car.
“I know that, but it makes me feel better to know you’re not going to get into any drunken accidents.”
Duncan comes around to the other side of the car to make sure that you haven’t fallen over, smiling at you when you hold your arms out to him. He places his hands on your hips, pulling you to him and letting you kiss him.
“Can we go inside now?” Duncan asks, watching as you disentangle yourself from his arms to slip out of your heeled shoes.
“Will you carry me?” A hopeful smile spreads on your face and Duncan sighs, knowing that it’s already over for him.
“Your legs aren’t suddenly broken, are they?”
“But my feet hurt!”
Duncan attempts to shake his head, but the way you grin at him melts any resistance he may have had. “Fine.”
“Yay!” You hop on Duncan’s back, wrapping your arms around him as you snuggle into him. 
“You smell nice,” you note as the elevator takes you up to Duncan’s floor.
“Thank you, you smell like tequila.”
“Somebody spilled tequila on me when we were dancing,” you mutter into Duncan’s ear, peppering his skin in kisses between the words.
“You’re awfully clingy when you’re drunk.” Then, you say the words that make his heart stop.
“It’s because I love you!” you croon, somehow sensing when Duncan freezes even though the complexities of a seatbelt stumped you less than 20 minutes ago. “Uh oh, was I not supposed to say that?”
“Um…” Thankfully, Duncan needs to focus on unlocking his door, giving him time to formulate a response as you continue to cling to his back like a koala. “It’s not that you weren’t supposed to say it, it’s just that you’ve never said it before. Plus, we’re not actually dating.”
“Well that’s stupid!” You let go of Duncan when you reach his bed, falling back onto the mattress and giggling. “Sober me is a pussy.”
Duncan coughs to hide his surprised laugh. “(Y/N), don’t say that!”
“What? It’s true.” 
When you start to lay back against the pillows, Duncan grabs your ankle and pulls you down the bed. “Nope, you’re not falling asleep smelling like a bar.” He grabs a shirt that you had left at his place on accident (and that he certainly hadn’t washed and kept in a dresser) and tosses it to you. “Go take a shower.”
“Ugh, do I have to?”
“If you don’t want to sleep on the floor, then yes.” He’s exaggerating. He knows it, you know it, even the dog barking outside knows it. Still, you’ve found it’s impossible to say “no” to Duncan, so you grab the shirt from him and stand from the bed.
“Not worried I’m going to drown in the shower?” you tease.
“Yell if you start to drown,” Duncan deadpans, smiling as he finds you once again hugging him.
“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable by saying I love you,” you mutter against his chest.
“You didn’t. Besides, I know you’re drunk, and you won’t mean it in the morning.”
You shake your head. “I will. I think...I’ve loved you for a little bit now, but I just haven’t realized it.” Kissing him, you let go of him and head towards the bathroom. “I love you, Duncan.”
The door closes before you can hear Duncan quietly say “I love you, too.”
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myluciferiscody · 5 years
Text
Dancing With a Stranger P.2
@iits-mikha asked: n a recent interview they asked Cody if he could have the opportunity to play another character he would had chosen to be the Countess, So my request is this: an AU where old!Michael where he’s not the antichrist but is the owner of the Hotel Cortez, please!!
pairing: Older!Michael x Reader
word count: 5,055
warnings: au!, language, seductive-boi, unprotected sex, oral (female and male receiving), other smutty goodness. idk how i thought i’d keep this smut free, yikes. i hardly write smut so i hope it’s not too terrible, enjoy.
*not entirely proof-read* 
part 1
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The next few days were a blur. 
You and Winter spent the days at the park, getting scared and meeting your favorite characters. You changed your phone wallpaper to a picture of you and Beetlejuice, your cheesy grin making you flinch every time you unlocked your phone. Yet, you were living your best life, and it was a much-needed break from reality. 
As the hours of screams and thrill rides went by, Michael Langdon slowly slipped in the back of your mind. 
It wasn't until there was a knock on your hotel door bright in early on Halloween. Winter groaned from beside you, her small body cuddling into yours when you tried to leave. 
"It's fucking cold, stop," Winter moaned.
"Someone is here, Winter," you groaned, throwing the covers from your body when they knocked again. Your M&M socks were slipping off your feet as you opened the door, revealing Iris. 
"Good morning!" she gushed, her voice way too peppy for this time of day. You blinked at her, knowing you looked like hell with your band t-shirt, dull sweats, and orange socks. 
"Is everything alright?" you immediately asked, crossing your arms over your chest. It really is cold in here. You could feel your nipples getting hard, and you tried to hide your laugh. 
"Mr. Langdon asked me to drop this off," she said, shoving a white envelope in your direction. You took it, feeling the thickness and frowning. "He says it's a treat."
"What?-"
"Have a good day!" she insisted, before leaving you standing in the doorway.
You stood there with a comical look on your face, before quietly shutting the door and locking it. Winter had since sat up, her brown eyes frowning at you as you carefully opened the envelope. 
A white slip of paper caught your eye first, before the thick wad of cash behind it. You gasped, pulling it out altogether.
"HOLY SHIT!" Winter said, shoving the blankets off her before scrambling to stand beside you. You counted the money; there was quickly a few thousand in your hands.
"I KNOW-" you gasped. You had never seen this much money in your life, at least in person. "He left a note..."
"Read it," Winter urged, taking the money and feeling it up, "This is hot in a really bizarre way."
Ms. l/n,
Please take this offering to buy yourself some new clothes, preferably for dinner tonight. I took the liberty of ordering food from a nearby restaurant. I do not believe you'd find the menu here satisfactory, trust me. 
Meet me at the penthouse at 8 PM sharp. This is very important, not a minute before or less. You may find some less than impressive guests if you do. 
Oh, I almost forgot - you keep what you buy. Spend it wisely.
Sincerely, 
M.L
You sat on the edge of the bed as Winter read the note to herself. Your jaw was almost to the floor as you had forgotten about your plans for tonight. It was fun the other night when you met him, but now you were nervous.
"This is amazing," Winter gasped excitedly. "But wait, why do you look like that?" she asked.
"How in the hell am I supposed to have dinner with him tonight? He's so-"
"Weirdly arousing and complex?" Winter grinned, mocking Liz's words from the other night. "Girl, I'll gladly take your place if you're going to chicken out, who in their right mind would do this for you back home?"
You stuffed everything back into the envelope before you both settled back into bed. "Maybe that means he is crazy, and I'm doing myself a favor," you mumbled.
"First off, he is hot. Second, it's just dinner, if he is willing to pay for you to get a new dress, well..." Winter pulled the covers up to her nose, "Maybe that means he is a keeper, y/n,"
You both laid there in silence before you caught up on sleep. You woke up again closer to ten, and you stayed under the covers on your phone while Winter took a shower first. You scrolled through Instagram, Tumblr, and TikTok, seeking out the ones that reminded you most of Vine.
You tried to distract yourself from the anxiety bubbling in your belly. Michael Langdon intimidated you; everything about him seemed so reserved and poised. From the way he spoke, to how he walked, and you had to admit, his wardrobe was on-point. 
"I'll just get drunk before I go up there." you joked to yourself as you passed the fifth video of spoiled New Yorkers seeing Beetlejuice for the eightieth time. 
-
Since you and Winter weren't familiar with the higher-ups in the fashion department, you did a lot of Googling as you walked down the streets of Los Angeles. The Hotel Cortez felt like an icebox compared to the weather out here. Most of the stores that you passed or glanced through seemed to cater specifically to prom dresses and other school formals. 
You stopped into a particular store that seemed too over budget. Winter couldn't help but gush at their selection of bridal gowns in the back of the store, and as you pulled her away, your mouth even watered at the beautiful dresses in front of you. 
"I'm not getting married, Winter," you snorted as you dragged her back into the streets.
You both stopped a Starbucks, sitting down and resting as you chug your drink. "I'm about to give up," you sighed.
"We've only been out for- two hours," Winter replied sheepishly. "Come on, you have three-grand in your pockets, we'll find something."
"Everything here is kind of weird," you frowned, thinking of the four-thousand dollar dress you saw that barely covered the crotch of the mannequin wearing it. "Plus, who can afford to spend four-grand on a dress?"
"Think about it this way," Winter pointed at you, "Michael saw you wearing clothes from Forever 21. Maybe he figured you liked the simple things,"
You know how to stretch a buck when your paychecks were smaller than usual. Michael did say buy something for tonight, but...
"How will I bring all of the clothes back home?" you asked.
"We'll worry about that later, and let's get the fuck out of here, I can barely hear myself think."
It was more comfortable for you to go into stores you were more familiar with. You bought new jeans, new shirts, and dresses to wear once the weather warmed up again back home. 
By the time you were finished, you still had about $2,400 in your wallet. You let Winter pick out some things too. It made you feel bad about going on a shopping spree without her. 
"I wonder if this is what it feels like to have a sugar daddy!" Winter all but yelled in the sea of people passing you in the street. You threw your head back and laughed.
"I guess we need to find ourselves one," you joked.
"Okay, but Michael, I mean- The Count," Winter rolled her eyes, "Is totally sugar daddy material, is he not?"
"Is he even old enough? He's like thirty-four, when I think of them, I imagine someone in their sixties or something," you stated.
"He's older, and he gives you money for nice things, so I'd say he most certainly qualifies," Winter said, continuing to talk when a mannequin caught your eye. 
You stopped dead in your tracks, not caring when the person behind you cursed when he bumped into you. Winter finally realized you weren't by her side, waltzing over with a confused look on her face.
The red cocktail dress stared back at you, the silk taffeta material almost glowing under the light above it. The neckline plunged, leaving little to the imagination. You didn't care, though. 
"Do you see a price tag?" you asked.
"I think that's it-" Winter said, leaning in closer, "-holy shiiii-"
The store owner must have caught you two gawking, because the door swung open, revealing a small man with a shaved head beaming at the two of you. "Are you ladies enjoying the view?" he joked.
"Yes, I love this dress," you said, pointing at it. He seemed pleased as he looked you up and down. 
"I think this calls for a fitting! My name is Ted, come on in," he said.
Needless to say, spending 2,300 on a dress was strangely rewarding.
_
You got into the elevator at 7:57.
It slowly rose to the top, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You had many floors to go, and you looked at yourself in the mirrored wall. 
Winter had pinned your hair back, before coloring your eyes and lips in a similar shade of red to your dress. You admired your boobs, hoping he wouldn't be too put off by them. You never really dressed like this; hoodies and sweaters were some of your favorites. It felt good to show off your body; you felt beautiful. Like you accepted yourself for who you were, even if it was over by the end of the night. 
You ran a hand along your belly, sighing deeply as you felt like you were going to vomit.
it's just dinner, you'll be fine.
The elevator slowly came to a stop, the doors slowly sliding open. You looked around, seeing you were already inside of his place. You could hear gentle music playing in the background; you hid your smile when you heard Lady Gaga singing.
"Hello?" You called out, your voice meek. When you stepped out, you realized how much warmer this room was compared to the rest of the hotel. If it were any warmer, you'd probably think you were about to enter the deepest pits of Hell.
"Ms. l/n, how lovely to see you,"
You jumped, looking to see Langdon slowly making his way to you, his hands behind his back. In perfect pose, like always. The view behind him told you he just came from his bedroom.
You were at a loss for words, much to his amusement.
"Interesting..." he said as he observed you with a slight tilt to his head. "I admire your choice of color, the red compliments your eyes," Michael said.
"Thank you, uhh-"
"You can call me Michael," he said firmly. "I hope you used my offering wisely, I'd hate to think all that went to waste."
His blue eyes bore holes into your skull as you instinctively went to push your hair behind your ear until remembered it was pinned back. You dropped your hand with a shy grin. "It was nice, thank you."
Michael continued to stare at you like he couldn't seem to figure you out. You watched as his perfect brow twitched as if he were hiding his true expression from you. You swallowed, turning to admire the rest of his space. Like the lobby, red seemed to be a favorite in his repertoire.
Almost like a ghost, you could feel his presence directly behind you. A gasp caught in your throat as you felt the fabric of his expensive dinner jacket brush against your bare arm. A small glass of wine. You took it from him, bringing it to your nose where you gently inhaled.
Amusement flickered in his eyes as he watched your childish action. He had a glass in his own hand, but it definitely wasn't wine.
"Iris is bringing dinner at 8:30," he explained, watching your eyes flutter as you took a sip. It tasted terrific, you wondered where it was from. But you never asked. "Sit, y/n," Michael pointed to the expansive couch behind you.
You chose a cushion, Michael sinking into one just a bit farther down. You found yourself taking bigger sips of wine; it was almost addictive, the taste. Michael brought his glass to his lips, draining it quickly, before he set it down, his tongue slowly licking along his lip. You stared at it.
"y/n," he sighed. You loved the way your name rolled off his tongue. Michael suddenly smirked, his eyes slowly meeting yours. "Tell me about yourself."
You cleared your throat. You always found this to be awkward; what was really interesting about your life compared to his? Yet, you told him a little about your life back home. Your job, your education, your friendship with Winter, and how important she was to you.
Michael didn't say a word the entire time. He watched you intently, almost like he was entranced by you. Your voice, your past, your hopes, and dreams. It brought you comfort; you felt like someone was listening to you out of pure interest, and not to be kind.
"I think that's enough about me," you said awkwardly. Once again, his eyes crinkled with amusement. "It's your turn."
Almost as if on cue, the elevator slid open. Iris and Liz stepped out, pushing a large tray of food. Michael immediately stood up, his eyes piercing through you as you slowly did the same.
"Dinner is served, my beauties," Liz said excitedly, pushing the cart towards the two of you. Michael rolled his eyes, but you could see the playfulness in his actions.
"Thank you, Liz. Iris." He said, looking at her like she had all the answers in the world. Iris shrugged, waving him off as they set the table for you two.
You looked at your empty glass, before looking up at Michael, "Michael-"
"Of course, y/n," he said. He took the glass from you, his fingers brushing yours. He was a little cold to the touch.
Michael got you some more wine as you pondered how he could have possibly known what you were about to ask.
"Is there anything else I can do?" Iris asked as Liz wheeled the cart back to the elevator, waiting patiently.
"Not at all, I will call when we're finished," Michael said, handing you back the glass.
Iris nodded, turning, and meeting Liz. Before the elevator doors shut, Liz winked at you.
Without a word, Michael walked to a chair, gesturing for you to sit. You walked over and took a seat as he gently pushed you in. Michael placed a hand on your shoulder, his rings softly digging into your skin. There was something erotic about the way he moved his hands, so fluid and sexual.
"You seem tense, y/n," he mocked, and you could imagine the smirk on his lips. You shook your head, pressing your thighs together as you tried to forget the handsome man standing behind you.
"I'm just hungry," you said lamely. You felt his fingers gently curl into you before releasing.
"As you should be." He said before his hands left you. Michael walked around the table, sitting across from you. The distance between you was small, you could nudge his leg with your toes.
Michael's glass was full, as he watched you expectantly. The food smelled delicious, your belly softly rumbling as you glanced at him.
"Don't wait for me, precious," Michael said, pressing his fingers together. Your cheeks slightly burned at the nickname, before slowly picking up your silverware.
After a few bites, Michael finally started to eat. You remained mostly silent, enjoying the food. Your foot gently bobbed along to the music.
can you light the fire
i need somebody who can take control
"You never told me about your life," you pointed out. Michael glanced at you, taking a sip of his drink, a mischievous look in his eyes.
"I told you how old I am." He smirked.
"Come on, Michael. I spilled my whole life story to you, now it's your turn." You glared at him.
"Very well," he said. "I was born in December of 1985. My parents were in the process of getting divorced. I had a twin, but he was stillborn," Michael said. His tone hardly wavered, neither did the look in his eyes. He seemed almost content. "My mother was devastated, she blamed me for years for his death. I was too strong, I overshadowed my brother, and he never stood a chance."
You had stopped eating, wondering if you should have even asked in the first place. "Michael..."
"I like honesty, y/n," Michael stated. He looked directly in your eyes, "Do you disagree?"
You slowly shook your head. "No..."
"Great." He ran a finger along the rim of his glass, the diamonds on his rings shining from the light. "She killed herself when I was ten. My father couldn't afford to raise me on his own, so we moved here. That's when I met Iris. She became my second mother, took me in like I was her own. Eventually, my dad abandoned me without a word of warning. He died two years ago under mysterious circumstances." Michael said coldly.
You felt a pang in your chest, and you instinctively raised a hand to your eyes to make sure you weren't crying. Michael stared at his plate, his eyes forming into slits.
"After the original owner died, I took over. I made some investments, great ones, in fact. Now I own the hotel with all the money anyone would ever need. I take care of my family, and they take care of me."
Your food had grown cold by the time he finished.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize how painful your past has been, Michael."
You were surprised to see him smile. Michael showed no signs of arrogance, just genuine appreciation. "I tend to keep the painful memories to myself, y/n. Your kindness has just opened up my vulnerability."
_
After dinner, you and Michael had moved back to the couch. After a few more glasses of wine, you were more talkative.
Iris had cleared the plates before leaving you alone. Michael listened to you talk about your favorite things and what you despised most.
For someone who wasn't that much older than you, give or take, he was very wise. If his dialect wasn't example enough, Michael's real thoughts and opinions were of an old soul. The hours slowly ticked by, and before you knew it, you were leaning against his side.
"I find you to be fascinating, y/n," Michael said. Your hair had slowly started to unravel, and he eventually released it all together. He wouldn't admit it to you, but he loved the way it framed your face. And your neck.
"You don't think I'm just some boring twenty-something?" You teased. Michael smiled.
"Not at all."
You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearing 2 AM.
"Holy fuck," you said. Michael snickered at your language but didn't comment. "I didn't realize how late it was."
"You're more than welcome to leave, y/n," he said, but his words seemed rather forced. "You don't have to stay on my behalf."
You could feel yourself becoming tired. Yet, you were very much enjoying this. Michael was a breath of fresh air. Everything you said, you didn't feel scrutinized. Michael liked to hear you talk, to hear about the things you were most passionate about. He listened to you.
You weren't drunk, just a little tipsy. You tilted your head at him, "Michael, how are you as single as a pringle?"
Michael frowned at you before a deep, genuine laugh echoed from his chest. You blinked at him.
"y/n, I'm very particular about my women," he said quietly. "I was a teenager once, you know. I made many mistakes, just like you, just like everyone else. I have my guard up more than most. You understand."
Michael was right, you understood perfectly.
"You talk like you're from an old Hollywood movie. It's kind of hot." You blurted out.
Michael brought a hand to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, his fingertips gently moving along your cheek, tracing over your nose before setting on your painted lips. Most of it had worn off by now, but neither you nor Michael cared.
"My sweet, sweet y/n," he whispered. "I certainly don't fuck like one."
You felt your thighs clench as he tilted his head at you. Michael's blue eyes observed you before a smirk slowly crossed his lips.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, y/n," he teased. His finger left your lips before they trailed down the side of your neck. He grabbed your throat, applying just enough pressure that left you a whining mess. "I think you've been hiding your arousal from me all night." He frowned, "At least, that's what you seem to think."
Michael observed you quietly, your hand slowly coming up to touch his as he continued holding your throat. He was amused by the sight of you.
"I could almost smell you," he growled before he lifted you like you weighed nothing. You sat on his lap, his knee knocking your legs out of the way. Your dress rode up on your thighs, revealing the red underwear underneath. It was nothing fancy, just comfortable.
Michael pressed his nose to your ear, adjusting his grip on you as you squirmed in his lap. "I like you, y/n. You're very bright, not quite like others I have encountered..." he pressed a kiss to your earlobe. "Yet, one thing always remains the same."
You slowly stuttered out, "And what's that?"
Michael chuckled in your ear, the sound husky. His free hand slowly slipped under your panties, running his fingers through your folds, before finding your clit like it was nothing. You gasped, a quiet moan escaping your throat as your hips bucked towards his hand.
"You girls want to be impaled on my thick cock, isn't that right?" Michael mewled in your ear. He still teased you as his hand was in your underwear, you pouted.
Michael released your throat, your body immediately sucking in air as he unzipped the back of your dress, allowing it to bunch at your waist. You helped him slide it off, you now clad only in your panties.
You could feel his hardness rubbing against your ass.
Michael removed his hand from your clit, making you sigh in frustration. He tsked at you, pulling your back flush against his chest as he carefully slid his fingers inside of you.
"You don't have to be greedy, y/n," he scolded. "I love having my fingers inside your sweet pussy. You take them so well, baby," he sighed into your ear.
Michael continued to finger you as you moaned and squirmed above him. No matter how many times he gently scolded you for moving too much, you couldn't stop.
"Michael, I'm so close," you whined.
"I never said you could come, y/n," he shook his head. "Be a good girl, bad girl's get punished if they misbehave,"
You whined as his fingers curled inside of you. Your arm slowly wove around his neck, gasping his name as you tried to fight off your impending orgasm.
"My precious girl," Michael purred before his fingers slid out of you.
The whine that left your mouth was loud. Michael laughed at your distress, his hand sliding from your panties entirely. He stuck them in your mouth mid grunt, making you shut up.
"Make them spotless, y/n," Michael said sternly. "Let's see how well you use that tongue before I stick my cock in your mouth."
You sucked his fingers, purposely being as loud as you can. Your tongue ran along his digits, tasting your arousal, before the sweet taste of Michael. When he seemed satisfied with your efforts, he pulled them out, forcing you to stand up.
You had no idea how Michael shed his clothes so quickly. Before you knew it, he was pulling you on top of his body. Your eyes widened at the sight of his dick in front of your face. Your knees resting on either side of his head as he ran his big hands along your ass.
"If you be a good girl, I may let you come, precious," Michael stated before you felt his tongue slowly circling your clit.
The sensation caused you to gasp, temporarily buckling your elbows as you struggled to stay above him. Michael kept a tight grip on you, your belly laying directly on his. Perhaps that meant your weight was no bother to him.
You gripped his shaft in your hand, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he slowly dragged his tongue along your slit. Michael moaned against you, causing your legs to tremble from the pleasure he was giving you.
You licked the tip before slowly taking him into your mouth. Michael hummed his approval from underneath you. He was thick, and you could feel your mouth burning as you opened as wide as you could.
Michael slowly rutted his hips to meet your mouth, both of you groaning as he slipped further into your mouth, and then Michael sliding his tongue into your tiny hole. You weren't that experienced in this predicament; you were afraid of neglecting Michael as he blissfully ate you out.
After a while, your legs started to quake as Michael spread you out wider. His back arched from the couch as he chased your pussy when it started to become too much. His hands gripped your ass tightly, shaking his head against you as you released him from your mouth to scream his name.
Michael's tongue gently lapped at your clit as you came down from your orgasm. His tongue curled against your dripping hole, gathering your juices while he slurped you up.
"Michael," you moaned. He pressed kisses along your folds, before trailing along your thighs. You continued to stroke his cock, feeling his own body tensing up beneath you.
"I better come in your fucking mouth, y/n," he asserted. You felt him make your ass, causing you to yelp. "You're going to swallow every last drop."
You took him back into your mouth as he released your ass. Michael kept his hands on your thighs, stroking them softly as you took him in as far as he would go. Your mascara ran down your cheeks as his girth stretched your mouth to ridiculous lengths.
"That's it, baby," he whined. You fought the urge to smile against him. Michael Langdon, whining because of you. His dominant hand came back to your pussy, feeling for your clit. You were still sensitive, your legs jerking as he starting stimulating you. Again.
You groaned in disapproval.
"After I come in your sweet mouth, you're going to sit on my cock, precious."
A few more jerks of your hand had him falling apart beneath you. You felt him spurt deep into your throat, your eyes closing at the feeling. Michael slowly circled your clit as he came, sighing deeply when you sucked him clean.
"FUCK!" he called out. Michael maneuvered you off him, before standing up after you. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you in for a kiss.
Michael took your breath away, the taste of you on each other's lips. You felt him bite your bottom lip, before moaning into your mouth. His hands slid along your body, playing with your breasts, ghosting over your arms, just feeling you.
Michael took a seat, bringing you down onto his lap. You brought him in for a kiss this time, smiling as he carefully helped you slide onto him.
You felt him in your belly, gasping and breaking the kiss as you settled onto his thighs. Michael leaned back against the couch, his blonde hair frizzled out as he gazed at you with admiration.
He didn't say anything as you adjusted to him, his hands roaming your skin freely. The playlist in the room had long stopped, leaving you two in silence, save for the pants and whimpers.
Once you were comfortable, you bounced on his lap. Michael allowed you to take control at first, his lips sucking your nipples into his mouth as you run your hands through his soft hair.
"Your pussy is so fucking tight for me, y/n," he grunted. You pulled his mouth from your breasts, silently begging him to pay attention to the sensitive skin on your neck. He obliged, biting and leaving delicate kisses to your slick skin. He left his mark on you, eventually grabbing your hips again to pound into you.
"Oh, f-fuck!" You gasped, "Michael, Michael, Michael,"
His hips were smacking against you at an almost inhuman pace. His face remained buried in your neck, leaving multiple love bites as he growled into your skin.
"You better come before I do, baby," Michael warned. "You want to come, don't you, baby?" He mocked you. He released one of his hands, reaching back to bunch your hair in his hand, before yanking it. Your chest arched into his, gasping as he exposed your neck to him.
"P-please, Michael..." you whimpered as he kept up his relentless pace.
"I'm fucking close, y/n. You better come all over my dick, precious. Show me who this pussy belongs to."
The next few thrusts of his hips had you coming all over him. Your wetness dribbled down your thighs, onto his and the cushions beneath you.
You unintentionally squeezed his dick, your muscles contracting so tightly that Michael nearly lost his breath as he came inside of you. He slowly moved you along his shaft, making sure you completely coated him.
He brought his lips to yours again, his hands cupping your cheek as you kissed. You stayed in that position for a few minutes, before he gently removed you from his lap to place you beside him. You gasped as you no longer felt full.
Michael spread your legs, his eyes on yours as he slowly ate you out for a second time. You mewled from how sensitive you were. Just like the first time, Michael kept a firm grip on you as he lapped up his cum leaking out of you. You ran a hand through his hair, sighing his name as he pressed his nose onto your clit.
When he was finished, he pulled you close to him, his head resting on your breasts. You both were exhausted.
"We should have done this a few days ago." You whispered, thinking of your ride back home.
"We still have time," he whispered. "I hope your friend doesn't expect to see you until then."
taglist: @soph3218​ @jetblackpayne​ @its-mikha​ @vixi3303​ @cuddletothecake​
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64 & 80 with Older!Duncan please?
I need everybody to witness this murder attempt by anon. Also, I’m an idiot, I wrote it as Duncan and then realised it was “older!duncan” that was requested (as if it made anything better…) so I rewrote part of it.Reader is in their mid 20′s, Duncan is around 40 (yes daddy).
One night’s stands were not part of her habits but when shefound herself perched up top Duncan Shepherd’s laps, the 40 year old heir ofthe Shepherd’s Freedom Foundation, she didn’t seem to mind much.His hands teased her pencil skirt up her thighs to bunch up on her waist while(Y/N) bucked her hips to meet his. Her fingers found purchase in the pulledback mop of brown locks on the bachelor’s head while her tongue desperately foughthis for dominance.
How did it go so quickly? Once second she was enjoying anAfter Gala drink with Duncan, chatting about anything and everything and thenext, he had her draped across his lap on his expensive hotel room’s couch.Maybe it was the multiple glasses of wine he had put on his tab for her. Maybeit was that beautiful glow covering her skin as she laughed at his corny jokes.But frankly, the reason why Duncan had her frame trembling with arousal whileshe panted and grinded on top of him was the way she taunted him with a gentlewhisper. He has asked her if she would fancy retiring to his room for a glass ofchampagne to which she replied with a “You’re not taking me to bed. Ever”. And when he leaned closer to her earto respond, “Who said it had to be on the bed?” caused her to gentlywhimper against his skin.
Soon enough, he was kissing her neck and getting all sortsof pretty sounds to escape her lips on the elevator ride and then she pushedhim down on the couch to climb up across his thighs. Delighted mewls pushedpast her lips once his hips finally moved against her to meet her thrusts.Flipping the situation around, Duncan quickly had (Y/N) laying on the sofa,parting her soft thighs with the gentlest of touch.“I can safely assume that Mr. Shepherd isclean” she hinted as he slipped out his belt with a satisfying whippingnoise as it cracked in the air while she slipped the lacy panties she had nowsoaked. “So this filthy little girl wantsto be fucked raw, mh?” he huskily groaned in the shell of her ear only forher to whimper in response. “I do, sir”(Y/N) bit her lower lips at the sound of Duncan unzipping his trousers.
“Don’t ruin the sofa. Ormy blouse.” Her playful chuckle was a much needed change of scenery fromall of the vanilla women he’d been used to. “I’ll just have to cum inside youthen.” He was quick to quip back, his throbbing cock easing her wallswith a delicious burn as he thrusted deep within her. Arching her back in purebliss of such a feeling of fullness, (Y/N) allowed another mewl to echo pasther lips. “What a tight little thing youare” he lewdly groaned against the shell of her ear, causing her to squirmat his words.
Soon enough, the sound of Duncan’s thighs harshly slapping against the (Y/H/C)’sass filled the room as he outset his thrusts, quick and surprisingly languid. “Don’t think I’ve ever been fucked so good”(Y/N) gasped once the brunette found the angle delivering his guest with theright amount of pressure. “That’s because I’m not one of your boys,darling.” Duncan groaned back, lips latching against her neck, covering itwith sloppy trails of wet kisses. Each and every strokes of the flushed head ofhis cock caused her moan to break louder and louder through her chest, onlyencouraging his hips to move quicker into her cunt.
Writhing and moaning between warm pants, (Y/N) felt the familiarcoil twist inside of her belly, her walls now clamping desperately aroundDuncan’s girth before whimpering. “Harder,please” her voice desperately begged, the softness of her voice only pushingthe man to oblige, delivering hard and sharp thrust between her thighs, cocktwitching as he felt his orgasm creep up on him too.
A grunt past his lips with every one of his moves, quicklymorphing into moans. Heavily quivering against his waist, (Y/N)’s thighsclamped on him whilst her walls clenched and gripped at his shaft, finallypushed over the edge of her climax.The trembling of her cunt against his shaft induced Duncan’s own orgasm,allowing himself to release hot ropes of his sticky cum to paint the delicatewalls he had just been fucking so hard. With a handful of sloppy thrusts, thebrunette stilled above the frame of the woman as she pulled him close to herchest, still catching their breaths.
“I think I changed mymind about the bed” she teased, a mischievous smirk pulled across herfeatures. A playful look was exchanged before he could chuckle. “Well, darling, you make me feel like I’m 25again.”
______________________________________________________________
Babes squad: @langdxn, @littlegirlsdontplaynice, @moonanonwriting, @hecohansen31,  @blakewaterxx,  @antichristfern, @littledemondani, @fckinsupreme, @wroteclassicaly & @leatherduncan
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80sfern · 5 years
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okay so not to be cliche but like. think older!duncan in an unhappy marriage, leading towards a divorce, him & his wife hire a new maid? nanny? chef? whatever u think and she’s like freshly out of college or still in it OOP and one day its just them two in the house cause the wife is out of town??
so uhh i’m real high rn and i have given up on capitalization. so i’ll probably edit this tmrw but for now here you go babe
imagine you’re his wife’s personal assistant and you’ve always been attracted to duncan, ever since you met him. she’s going on a weekend trip for a charity event and you’re supposed to have the weekend off but last minute she calls and says she left her gala outfit in her closet and that you have to go get it and fly it to her, promises she’ll give you a hefty bonus for it next week and you know she’ll follow through so you say yes.
it’s late friday night when you get to their house and let yourself in with your keys. your boss called and notified him you’d be picking her dress up and not to be alarmed when you get there. from the closet, you can hear the shower running in the master bathroom. you can’t help but admire the size of her closet, it’s the size of your tiny apartment bedroom. when you find the gala dress, hung and wrapped from the designer herself, the silk black vera wang dress hangs delicately on the hanger.
you slowly unzip the bag to reveal the dress fully, a soft gasp leaving your lips at the sight of the gown. it costs as much as a months rent at your place, it’s what you’re working for. you slowly slide your shoes off, stepping out of the heel and tug the zipper on your dress, kicking it away from your feet. your fingers trail up the expensive fabric as you slide it off the velvet hanger. you can’t stop yourself as you dress yourself in her gown, pretend for a little while that this is your dress.
you’re admiring your reflection in the mirror that lines the wall, your hands pinning your hair up from your face. the sound of a door opening startles you out of your trance and you quickly realize duncan’s out of the shower. you rush to take off the dress while trying not to damage it at the same time. your hands shake as you try and put the dress on the hanger and zip the bag, the bottom of the zipper snagging the fabric in your flurry. you’re trying not to cry as you struggle to fix the zipper and stay quiet so duncan doesn’t walk in on you half naked crying over a zipper.
you manage to fix the dress and put on your clothes before you walk out, gown and shoes in hand as you open the closet door. your mouth dries at the sight in front of you; Duncan hot and wet on the bed, stark naked with his cock in his hand. he doesn’t even flinch when you gasp, a low moan falling from his lips as he turns his head to look at you. a low smirk takes over his lips as he watches you stare at him.
realization hits you a moment later, “i-i’m sorry mr. shepherd i- i should go.” you avoid looking at him as you walk past, ignoring the wetness building between your thighs. as you’re pulling the door open, duncan‘s hand comes down on the door in front of you, pushing it shut.
the dress and shoes slip from your shaky hands as he steps closer, “i saw you honey, in her dress. did you like it?” you whimper at his words, terrified of where he’s going with this, and slowly nod. “why don’t you put it back on for me. i won’t tell if you won’t” he murmers as his free hand trails up your side.
send me (older!duncan) blurbs
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taehyungsgrowl · 5 years
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Imagine the reader with Older!Duncan and she’s sitting in his lap while he’s reading. Straddling him and she’s always fidgeting playing with his hair, her hair, the collar of his shirt. Until Duncan pins her downs and tells her to stop moving
OMG.. like being super needy for attention and purposely keeping him distracted. OOF. 
Duncan quietly flipped though his legal pad; reading the notes from his last meeting. He had been gone all day and all you wanted was some time with him. You perched yourself on his lap as he read and studied his paperwork. His face was set in a faint frown of concentration and his lips moved along to the words he read in his mind. 
Feeling ignored by his concentration, you ran the back of your knuckles over his salt and peppered scruff. “Duncaaan...” you said in a sing songy voice wiggling  your ass down on his crotch, pressing into him a little deeper, letting a small giggle get past your lips. 
He caught your wrist and set your hand down. “Just a minute, princess.” his blue eyes burned into yours from behind his glasses. “Can you be a good girl and wait?” his words were sweet, but there was an edge behind; the kind of edge that made your stomach flip. 
“But daddy,” you knew what that word did to him - and what he’d do to you for using it. Your hands began to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, “I need you,” you pouted your lips at him. 
Duncan set his pad down and grabbed both your hips between his hands tightly; you could feel the bruises forming already. You squealed as he pulled you in closer, so you were directly on top of his hardening bulge. “You’re going to let me finish my work and you’re going to stay still while I do it, understood?” his face was a few inches away from yours and you senses were filled with the scent of his minty aftershave and cologne mixed with his natural scent. 
You nodded your head unable to think clearly.
“What’s that? Cat’s got your tongue, kitten? What do you say?” his eyes glimmered in a mischievous glint.
“Yes, daddy,” you replied, your thighs secured around his sides, just like he wanted you. 
He picked up his notebook in his left hand and began reading again. His free hand was now placed on your bare thigh, slowly inching up towards the hem line of your panties. 
He had you right where he wanted you. He loved testing you - pushing you buttons, just as much as you liked pressing his. 
His index finger, slowly started to form the words he read against the your wet panties. 
Unable to not respond to his touch, you bucked your hips towards his hand.
“Ah, ah...” he shook his head, setting his work down again. He roughly grabbed you and repositioned you over his lap, “Maybe daddy needs to show you how yo listen..” his hand rubbed over your ass. 
Duncan placed his work in front of you. 
“Read me my notes. Mess up and you’ll see what happens.” 
“Yes, daddy,” you nodded your hair. You could feel your inner thighs dripping with your juices. You began reading his impressive handwriting -- but just as you started, he began peeling back your panties and playing with your wet folds. 
“P-profits will increase b-byyyy oh my god,” he inserted two long digits into your core. 
“C’mon, princess.” his other hand smacked down harshly on your ass. “Stay focused. I have to prepare for this meeting.” 
He spanked your ass again, “Keep reading.”
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ritualmichael · 5 years
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us: duncan’s old,, hahaha
hoc: he’s actually like 25,,,
still us: he’s a grandpaaaa!!!!!!!! where is his aarp membership!!!!!
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duncvns · 5 years
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Fluff!Older!Duncan helping Y/N to sleep?❤️-🏄🏻‍♂️
I’m almost positive this is a fresh, steaming load of dog shit but I wanted to write a drabble tonight so yeet. I didn’t proofread this or anything lmaooo
also y’all can kindly send me some more drabble prompts plz and thank you
word count- 703 (how? bitch i’m-)warnings- fluff, age difference, maybe some angst lol idk, corny ass pet names lmao, struggles of insomnia, etc. 
“I- I don’t know? I just can’t sleep,” You whined in annoyance, fisting the pressed shirt on Duncans back. You’ve been struggling with insomnia for years, never being able to experience that euphoric rest easily. 
Every night you’d watch Duncan fall asleep, resting your hand on his chest so you could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. A tiny, insignificant part of you hated the older man for being able to fall asleep so easily. You envied how peaceful he looked as his eyelids slipped shut. 
Of course, Duncan’d try anything to get to sleep. Carry you around the house numerous times, take you for hour long car rides at three in the morning, sing peaceful ballads quietly in your ear, brew your tea, and he even tried to attempt meditation with you. 
Nothing worked. 
You grew weary and annoyed as the clock clicked by, ten o’clock in the evening quickly shifting into four in the morning. 
“Dove, you haven’t rested since Monday, I know it’s troublesome, but this is unhealthy.” His fingers traced incoherent patterns in your skin, his graying hair glimmering under the light of the full moon just out of your window. You cried softly, burying your face in his neck, wetting his work shirt with your tears. 
You could taste sleep on the edge of your tongue. It was dancing on your senses, taunting you with its restful strides and leaps. “I know.” You choked out, cheeks prickling with sheer embarrassment. Never had you cried from lack of sleep. 
“Do you want a ride on my back throughout the house a couple times? Or in my arms? Perhaps you want to try grasping onto me like a Koala again?” You nodded weakly, holding your arms out for him to retrieve you. 
“Koala, please?” 
He smiled down at you fondly, reaching his hand down to wipe your ever-flowing tears. His large, ring clad hands scoop you up before carrying you out of the room. He was your own personal radiator, his warmth swallowing your body as he strode through the house with you tucked securely in his arms. 
You curled your fingers through his gelled back locks softly, massaging his scalp as he strode through his eclectic apartment. His heeled dress shoes creating a steady rhythm for you to concentrate on. 
You knew Duncan was tired. You knew he was struggling to keep his eyes open after a long, 10-hour day at work but he refused to rest. His eyes were red, begging for even the smallest wink of sleep. You’ve always felt bad for keeping him from his rest, but at the same time, you knew you were selfish and wouldn’t let him sleep even if he begged. 
You felt yourself nodding off, the movement in your fingers coming to a slow halt. Duncan noticed, striding back into the bedroom before gently placing you onto the bed. You were jerked from your gentle slumber at the impact, a soft whine pulling from your throat.
“You’re awake?” You heard him mumble disappointedly. You shake your head, eyes still pressed closed. “Do you want me to whisper to you?”  You felt his weight dip the bed as he laid next to you. 
“Please?” 
“Of course, dove.” He places a soft kiss on the shell of your ear before dragging his teeth over the cartilage. You shivered under his touch, your exhaustion thrumming deep in your veins as his warm breath fanned over the sensitive skin. 
“You can do this, Y/N. I know you can. You’re so strong, and I envy that. My precious dove, I love you so much. You’ll get through this. You’ll kick this damned insomnia in the ass and look like a fucking God while doing so. Go to sleep, my love. Go to sleep and dream about your uncanny love for my gray hair. Dream about my hands. Dream about my voice, But just, dream, baby.” 
You giggled quietly before feeling yourself finally lulling off to sleep. 
You fell asleep and dreamed of Duncan. You dreamt of his voice, his rough hands gently tracing your exhausted skin, and more importantly, you dreamt of those 3 am whispers in your ear as you struggle for sleep. 
my whole ass tag list can enjoy this steaming pile of dog shit- @icylangdon @langdonsrapture @lvngdvns @wroteclassicaly @ccodyfern @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonsdemon @ritualmichael @queencocoakimmie @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @katiekitty261 @sojournmichael @langdonsoceaneyes @jimmlangdon @holylangdon @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx @1-800-bitchcraft @ladynuwanda @alex90 @gypsylilacs @langdonsboots @babydollcake @her-starry-eyes (tags being dumb again love thattttt)
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IVE JUST MATCHED WITH A DUDE WHO LOOKS LIKE AN OLDER DUNCAN ON TINDER!
Dudes got a kid though 😒
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celestialrequiem · 3 years
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Days of Candy Chapter 2
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Warnings: CreepyDark!Duncan Shepherd, sexual harassment, dubcon/non? (just to be safe) touching, dirty talk, possessive Duncan, abuse of power, manipulative Duncan, male masturbation, forced kiss, cockwarming, mention of rape and abuse (but none in the chapter), housewife kink, implied age gap, corruption kink, innocence kink, implied homophobia, mention of anxiety, depression and mental disorders, misogyny kink, corruption kink, sexism, implied age gap, Duncan‘s dirty thoughts, sir kink, praise kink.
Summary: In the small town of Willowdale, Y/N finds her dull life as a waitress at a mediocre diner get a little more interesting when the mysterious and daunting Sheriff takes an interest in her.
Pairing: Duncan Shepherd x Naive/shy reader
This is the first thing I ever written and posted so sorry if this is bad, please give me any constructive feedback/criticism to improve! I am new to this please don’t hate it too much lmao.
Author’s note : This series will have dubious consent and sexual harassment. It is a dark story about a Corrupt Sheriff’s who manipulates people so if you are uncomfortable with that please don’t read! This story deals hugely with sexism as its based in the late 50s/60s.
Thanks to @bloodcoatedeclipse for reading through some parts of it and giving me feedback lmaoo.
I didn’t use a lot of 50s/60s slang just two besides swell and gal
Flip your lid - go crazy
Nifty/groovy - cool or cool vibes
Word count: 5.6k
“what a perfect view doll, bend down, y’ur ass stickin out, all for me all in this lonely night”, a familiar voice said seductively
You quickly get up, feeling flustered, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you hold the mop close to your body
“Sh-sh-sheriff what are you doing here?”, Feeling nauseous because of his presence, alone, at night…after that previous incident.
“What does it look like doll? I am here to pick you up.”, Duncan says with confidence as if the question you are asking him is the stupidest he has heard
You immediately, look up to him. He was wearing a brown greaser jacket, you felt it is similar to jacket Xavier might have had…this made your heart sink, what didn’t help is when you realized how attractive he is because of the result of the rain, his beard is glistering from the reflections of the diner’s lighting despite it being dull.
You felt your heart beat.
“No, its okay its a walking distance”  
“I can’t let a beautiful young dame like yourself walk alone now can I? Hop in the car once you’r are done.”
You blinked at him not knowing how to respond, you feel shy when you talk to him, always not knowing how to answer him back..maybe because he knew Xavier?
Or maybe because he had so much power as a sheriff..and you are sure he is going to be re-elected again next year. He apparently helped a lot of people to get out of debts but that makes you wonder how does he get all this money? Did Xavier know?
He seems like he is waiting for your answer, as his hands are on his waist, around his handcuffs and keys, and his lips playing with the toothpick lingering on his mouth
You easily get stuck in your head, you snap back to reality:  “it is okay, you don’t need to do - ”
He interrupts your sentence, “is there something you would like to say to me doll?, cause it looks like you just don’t want my company is that it?”  You felt his chest vibrate from how he uttered that question, it sounded nearly unintelligible.
You felt your heart pounding, sweat forming on your forehead. You didn't want to make him angry. “No no of course I want your company!, let me finish up and I will meet ya outside.”  You agitatedly vocalize your statement while looking at the ground
He loves that he can always get his way with you. You make it so easy.
He hums in approval
“No its alright I will wait for ya, love seeing you doing those house chores like a pretty little housewife. It is a sight dollface”, he chuckles while eyeing you up and down.
You pause, feeling tensed.
“Go on, continue” as he gives himself a seat, across from you to see you working and see your face.
He does love seeing your rear, but he loves seeing you flustered when he gazes at you.
You shakily start mopping the floor, every second feels like torture. Hoping he doesn’t realize the effect he has on you.
But however he has noticed, he is mused that he has power of you, makes his cock excited
“Am I making you nervous babydoll?” He cooes, shifting his toothpick on his lip, left to right with a slyish grin
You ignore him, giving him your side angle, while mopping away from him. You give him your back figure which makes me angry and hard at the same time.
“eye on me little lady”,  he says in a harsh tone, punctuating each word slowly
You respond back to him surprised with your confidence as you look at the door behind him, scared to look at him in the eyes, “can you please let me finish and you can take me home…” 
“Watch your manners baby, or you are in it for a spankin’, declares it with raised eyebrows.
You blush, why is he talking to you that way? it’s not like you were his wife….
Was he that touchy and talkative with you when Xavier was your boyfriend?
Carissa has told you no, he started acting differently ever since Xavier went missing and then declared dead.
“S-sorry sheriff”, you shift back to your older position, so that Duncan can see your face, and continue mopping
He likes when you are eyes are engaging with his eyes, he is waiting for the day when you touch yourself on his bed with your legs spread wide open for his wolf-like eyes to take in the view as you chant his name like prayer to give you the command for you to finally cum, while staring at him with your chastely eyes.
As you mop the floor, motioning it back and forth towards Duncan, your curvy body was in motion as well. He hoped you didn’t re-button your dress again, as he can take in the view of your breasts jiggling again. His eyes lingering slowly all over his favourite parts of your body, your neck, lips, neck, waist and hips . He noticed how nervous you are, there were fear in your eyes, you felt naked in his eyes because of his alpha-like eyes, giving you goosebumps.
You saw his pupils dilated not sure why.
-
After 15 minutes of awkward silence and Duncan forcing you to look at him as you were mopping the floor, you hoped the floor looks fine and that your boss Bob doesn’t get mad the next day.
You are not going to lie, you always wanted to be in his car. It was a dream car. You have seen them a lot in magazines, you don’t know much about cars but you do know this one, 1956 Chevy Bel Air, with a unique colour. White with purple around the edges, elaborate taillight and chrome highlights.
This was the first time you got close to the car, Your head started to hurt, you stood your ground, as you remember fragments of Xavier riding a similar car but in red.
Duncan realizes you might have remembered something…fuck fuck fuck, he hoped you didn’t remember what he didn’t want you to remember..
His hands grips your hand to make you snap out of it before you dig deeper into your suppressed memories.
“you alright there, doll?” Faking his concern you don’t know that, as he opens the door for you to hop in
“Ye..ah..” I am fine” you softly respond. His hand leaves your hand and goes to your back to shift you to get into his car.
You hop in his car, the car felt new, smell of leather with a mix of aged.. cigarettes smoked probably by Shepherd.
-
The car ride was silent.. he has an old song playing which makes it even more unbearable.
Midnight with the stars and you
Midnight and a rendezvous
Your eyes held a message tender
Saying "I surrender all my love to you
“How old is this song anyway?” You mention in annoyance with your right hand on the the rest that is placed near the door handle
Duncan has a wide smile on his face, happy that you are finally making a conversation with him.
“it’s from the 1930s I believe.....besides I don’t like the weird music you youngsters listen to nowadays..what was it Elvis Presley and The Beatles? They aint manly, jiggling all around with their bobby haircuts”  removing his hands from the steering wheel to motion with his hand the disapproval.
You giggle, and his heart skips a bit. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he made you giggle. Xavier always made you giggle and it frustrated him.
“The Beatles are swell….but James Dean has my heart. I loved his style in that movie, particularly his red jacket in Rebel Without a Cause.. it’s nifty.” You state swoonly as you gaze out of the window.
Midnight brought us sweet romance
I know all my whole life through
I'll be remembering you, whatever else I do
Midnight with the stars and you
He thought maybe that’s why you liked Xavier, he bought a similar red jacket as James Dean from the film several days after meeting you. Xavier also had that rebel vibe to him. He remembered his friend as well being a fan of Marlon Brando hence why he wanted to be an actor. To move out of the suburbs, to go to the dreamland..to Hollywood with you. You used to always want to be around him, he didn’t let the deputies patrol the drive in, since he always saw you there with him. He hated seeing you with his friend but he can’t help himself, he wanted to always be near you, see you and to one day feel your skin on his skin.
His jaw clenched and his brows furrowed as he starts to get jealous over a dead man.
You noticed his face seems boiling from rage as his hands gripped forcibly the steering wheel…you don’t know why. Scared to ask so you just continue gazing at the view in locomotion from the car window, as your sheer scarf around your head blowing from the impact of the window.
You loved the aftermath of the rain, the order after the chaos.
-
After a few minutes, The sheriff parks in front of your house. It’s 12 AM.
The house you lived in was basic, owned by your deceased father. It was a small house with a small balcony, it looks a little bit like a tree house. Wooden with no paint job. With a white door to enter the house, two small front steps and a small terrace, where you tend to read the Woman magazines.
He can’t wait for you to live in his house. Especially since he is a veteran who served in the Second World War, the government provided him with the perfect suburban American Dream home.
“Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.” you shyly state, about to open the door of his fancy car.
“Nah -ah -ah not too fast, you have to be punished.” He sings in a mocking tone with a daunting smirk.
You were nervously fidgeting, you don’t know why maybe because you are worried you might have done something that might be incriminating especially with your memory loss situation.
“What? What for?” you gullibly ask, looking up to him.
“You lied to me, you told me you had a doctor appointment when it fact you finish your shift late, kitten” , you see him remove the toothpick that was on his plump lips and put it on the ledge behind the steering wheel.
Oh thank God-
but why should I be punished for this? You didn’t know what to say to him so you just look at his eyes, waiting for any instructions.
He remarks that, he loves how obedient you are to him.
“Come closer, suga’r ” he taps his chest motioning you to come closer to him
What is the punishment? Is he going to spank me?
But we are not married why would he??
You timidly move close to him, refusing to make eye contact with him.
He lifts up your chin, bringing your face near his and your gaze to his.
“Kiss me or else I won’t let you leave this car”, Duncan whispers seductively as he shuts your window’s car seat and secures that your door is locked, trapping you in.
“..N…no..o” Duncan this isn’t right”,  you respond back.
As you shift back to your seat, Duncan aggressively grips your waist with his right hand and grips your chin with his left hand, forces you into a kiss and he goes deep and sensual, demanding access to your mouth but you instantly deny him entry.
This angers him, he aggressively yanks your hair, you gasp giving Duncan the chance to insert his tongue, he needed to taste your mouth.
You try biting his upper lip, he decides to lift up your weak body from your seat, manhandling you, without breaking from the kiss, you feel his strong hands spank you harsh. You whimper loudly.
This made his cock twitch, lust filling him at the thought of your spanked, bare ass turning into crimson-like imprints by his own hand; or by the paddle with his name engraved, so that his name can be imprinted on your ass…maybe next time.
He is waiting for you to make a bad move again so he can discipline you this way, even if you weren’t his bride yet.
You break the kiss gasping for air, “D..Duuncan..stop” you panted with watery eyes, trying to break away from his grasps, with your hands pushing his muscular chest. He didn’t take no for answer. Removing your hands out of the way with his claw-like hands and putting them around his broad back. He then forcefully dragged you onto his lap to straddle his thick thighs, “be a good girl now, you don’t want to be spanked now don’t you?”
He linked his lips with your lips with urgence and dominance. His tongue dancing with yours, wet and minty from the flavoured cigarettes he tends to smokes.
You felt one of his hands leave your waist and lingering underneath your skirt to cup your clothed sex.
A deep growl leaves his chest
He dreamt of touching this pussy for years. Your soft and squishy puffy lips felt so good on his rough manly hand.
You let out a soft gasp with eyes wide open in surprise, and broke away from the kiss to come up for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips.
Duncan grabs your chin, not giving you a second to breath and continues his assault on your lips and your clothed pussy. His middle finger going from your slit all the way to your swollen clit while his index and his forefinger are on your lips, touching you slowly with his hand. He wanted to make you wet before you left.
Your face flushed, you don’t remember if you reached that base with Xavier yet or not…he was your first boyfriend.
This felt forbidden, having his hands all around you.
You felt like you wanted to go to the bathroom, you were worried it might have been your period?
His tongue feels like hot water burning your skin. He claimed your mouth with intensity. You feel your knees weakened, Duncan filling all your senses.
You are so close to his body, your head in the crook of his neck, eyes closed, you feel his warmth and felt his heart beating quick. You put your hands on his golden badge situated on his right chest, reflected in the moon light, to try and push him away, but he didn’t budge.  
he left your assaulted mouth, hearing you panting heavily, and started licking at the column of your neck, his hand leaves your pussy and goes to your bared fleshed upper thigh, his hand moving in a reciprocating motion.  
You felt his beard tickling your left check and your neck, His hot soft grunts and warm breath sends shivers down your body and to your aching pussy
Not sure if it’s lust? Is this how you felt with Xavier ?
You bit down on your bottom lip trying to hold back a sob or was it a moan? 
“Duncan, I don’t feel good”
He knows he is making you feel good, you just need guidance that’s all.
“Why are you moaning then huh?” He chuckles, you felt his chest vibrating from his laughter, giving you goosebumps.
“give in baby, let me take care of you, that’s what Xavier would’ve wanted” he mutters darkly
your stomach twisting into a nervous knot, is this what Xavier would’ve wanted?
“Re-ally?”  You utter quietly with a blush heating up around your neck and cheeks.
He didn’t hear you. Thank God
he gets closer to your ear and whispers,“Knew you’d taste so sweet, just like candy, I wonder what’s the rest of you taste like hm?”
He aggressively bites your earlobe, his hot breath danced on your ear, “I bet just like those pancakes you serve me every morning, thick and creamy.” In a lustful tone.
You squirmed uncomfortably on his lap, felt something touch your stomach, he lets out a profound loud rumble, you look up at him out of shock, his wide blown eyes have now darken.
He looks at your lips that is now glistering and swollen from the kiss, he finally marked a part of you with his spit, he can’t wait to corrupt your other holes.
He decided to let go, this was enough to get him by in the meantime.
You felt his hand loosening around your waist. You take that chance to go back to your seat.
“I….I.. think you need to leave Sir, thanks for the ride”, your hands nervously twist with each other on your lap as you mentally facepalm yourself
“Sir” where did that come from?
Hearing you call him Sir made him groan silently and made his cock stir painfully against the zipper of his pants.
His already rigorous cock getting harder. Duncan trying to recollect himself and not fuck you for the first time in the backseat of his car.. he thought you deserved better than that..a shy innocent young server…probably a virgin.
Well he hoped you still were a virgin, he hoped that fucker didn’t take your virginity. he wanted to claim you for himself, every part of you.
“Why don’t you leave then birdie?”
You felt your thighs automatically clenched and your pussy tingling.
he never called you that, why did you like him calling you that?
Duncan saw your legs clamping together and took note of that. He also didn’t realize you can blush harder than that….you realized you were in his car….idiot
You got out of his car and you heard Duncan tsk out of annoyance, “where is your manners kitten?”
Whats up with him? You thought to yourself.. you thanked him before why do you have to thank him again?
You did not care anymore, you just wanted to back home without any problems and arguments
You huffed in annoyance, “Thanks for the ride Sheriff.”
You uncomfortably felt him linger at your figure as you walked back to your house.
He loves seeing you in motion.you move better than the waves of the ocean, smoothly and flawlessly. His steel blue eyes scanned you up and down, consuming in your body with hunger; that waitress dress in pale blue making you look even more innocent and seductive, an odd combination. He believes only you can do that, besides Marilyn Monroe.
He hoped he can see you from your window, with no curtains or an open curtain, so that he can watch you domestically, wondering how you look like touching yourself when you feel needy at night, if you did touch yourself.
-
You entered home safe and sound then the realization hit you…. how does he know where you live? You didn’t give him your address? But then again he is the sheriff, he probably has access to all that information but …does he know everyone’s address by hard?..you doubt that.  Maybe he visited you with Xavier?
-
After he saw you close the door, he paused for a second to relish the taste of you left on his lips and was about to put his key back to the ignition, until he saw something interesting.. that made him much harder than he already was… your arousal on the seat of his car.
He reclined his head back to the head restraint,
“Fuck.. you are trying to kill me doll?"
He was so tempted to taste your arousal… he felt like an animal as he brought his index to his seat that was tainted with your nectar and brought it back to his lips.
A hungry growl grumbled in his chest, “tastier than any fuckin candy”
His chest was full of pride, he was glad he made you wet. Not Xavier. Him
He opens his car’s compartment, there lies a stolen panty of yours covered in blood from that day, he didn’t want your fresh arousal going to waste, mixing it with your bloody panty.
After arriving home that day because of sexual urges, he relieved himself to thought of you for a second time, with his left hand holding your used panty from a year ago and his right hand unbuckling his belt, to reveal his throbbed cock. He smeared on his long length, the pre-cum leaking at the head.
Working on his cock, he brings your panty to his nose to sniff your dried blood blended with your womanhood scent, it smelled pure and sweet just like you. To make himself cum faster, he thought of you coming to his office one day during your break and cockwarming him on his lap while he finishes up paperwork, imagining your painful whimpers, you fidgeting in his lap because you are finding it hard to adjust to his cock because of how big he was, he imagines his cock bottoms out in your tight pussy, and how you wet walls clenches around his big cock.
“Dun..c.an, you are too big”, you whine with a giggle, shifting it into a squeal
“Call me sir, love it when you call me sir darlin’”,  he growls in your ear
“Sir”  , he imagines you whimpering through tears from his cock’s intrusion in your narrowed pussy
“Dollface, you are taking me so well, taking me all in” he praises you in a slightly low deep voice
A groan leaves his chest as he starts pumping his erected length harder, going from the bottom all the way to the top, twisting his tip, and then back down.
He envisions his pelvis rubbing against your mound and clit, your pussy being pink and wet engulfing his cock, while his right hand is feeling your soft and pulpous butt cheek. Your chest is heaving right in front of his predatory eyes, he decides to save the lustful images of him sucking your tits and nibbling your areola another time.
He imagines your voice in his ear, calling him sheriff, sir, daddy and begging him to start fucking you.
As he is about to reach his high, his thrusts gets sloppier with his sticky hands, chanting your name like a prayer over and over again.
Groaning louder as his cock twitches, moaning your name louder as ropes of white soaks his hand, and soaking your panty a bit with his cum.
-
Tired to change out of your clothes, you quickly go to your bed situated on the left side of your room. You feel the most peaceful in your room, the only time you don’t feel like someone is watching you despite the reoccurring nightmares ever since the incident.
With the floral window curtains. Roses and daisies on a shelf next to a concealed window, giving floral scents all around your room to help calm your nerves and help you fall asleep. At least that was what your doctor had recommended as repression memories if stayed long-term can cause emotional health problems like anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.
You immediately shift to the deep slumber of sleep, out of exhaustion.
-
You wake up the next day 10:30 am. You slept well that day oddly enough, a peaceful sleep. You were happy since you haven’t had any nightmares the past few days. That happiness shifted when you realized the sensual incident that happened in public, and you don’t know how you will be able to work in the diner again, especially how small this town is. You will be the talk of the town again, because obviously that situation had to be with the fucking Sheriff.
At least for today, you had the day off today.  You told your Boss Bob that you have an appointment with your doctor at 1 pm, and since you closed the diner yesterday he decided to leave you off the hook.
You made yourself some coffee, and went to your closet that was attached to the wall to choose an outfit. You decide to go with a yellow pastel cardigan with a yellow gingham dress that has a spaghetti strap, wear some rouge lipstick and yellow pale eyeshadow with your hair tied into a pony tail.
You then passed sometime on TV watching Bewitched re-runs, and called Carissa at around 12:30 pm during her break to check in on her brother.
Your hands swirling around the cord waiting for someone from the diner to pick up.
Selma answers, “Hello, Welcome to Jukeburgers, the best milkshakes in town!, what can I do for ya today!” You could hear Venus by Franke Avalon playing and muffled voices in the distance, seemed surprisingly busy today.
You answer loudly, “hey Selma, it’s Y/N, can you pass the phone to Carissa!”
“Oh, Y/N how you been? I heard from Adam about what happened with the Sheriff, so y’all a thing now huh?… You went for the old powerful friend.” Selma teases, her laughing echoing from the speaker.
Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest, you knew this was going to happen. Trying to sound strong and not in the verge of crying, “Whatever Selma, pass the phone to Carissa” your fingers twisted the cord nervously.
Selma just snickers and you hear her shouting out Carissa’s name to grab the phone
“Hey Y/N?”
“Cari!, I wanted to check up on you with Richard… you didn’t get to tell me what exactly happened…. is everything okay?” You utter in a concerned tone, gripping the phone handle harder.
“yeah yeah, we had to go to the hospital again, he got beat up again, but he didn’t wanna tell me why”  you hear her voice quivering on the other side.
You know Carissa is worried about him, as well as about his town finding out about his lifestyle.
She continues,“ You know Richard, I don’t want him to get locked up again, especially this town…views anyone that goes to the mental hospital… as lunatics”, you hear her voice quivering on the other side.
You remember Richard telling you that the Sheriff bailed him out the first time so now he owes the sheriff twice.
Why twice?
Was it because of his relationship with Jim Mason?
Does his sister know?
To not worry his sister, he sometimes tells you things that she doesn’t know and you were like Carissa to him. His big sister.
You snap out of your thoughts when you heard Carissa sniffling.
You hated hearing your friend’s sadness echoing from her voice, hoping you were there to hug her. “ I am glad he is okay at least, I miss seeing Richie, I will talk to him whether I get the chance… and you are right.”
You thought about what Carissa thought.
This small boring town feeds on gossip. It made you worried about Xavier’s parents…finding out about yesterday’s incident. Between the last girlfriend of their deceased son and one of his friends in an intimate scene.
What doesn’t help is that Xavier’s parents invited you and Duncan for dinner next week.
“He actually didn’t come today its as if he knows you might-“
You look at the time while you were on the phone, It was 12:40. Your eyes widen out of anxiety of being late. You cut your friend off without letting her finish the sentence.
“Oh shoot Carissa, I have to go now, my appointment is in 20 mins!”
“I really hope all goes well with the appointment, I know I tell you a thousand times but…I don’t really trust that doctor to be honest with ya”  she admits assuredly
There was a small pause, because you didn’t really know how to  react to that. He was the cheapest Doctor that you can afford. You really had no choice.
Carissa breaks the awkward silence, “well let me know what happens, hope it goes well!” She suddenly sounds different..and hopeful. Makes you happy that you can at least end the call with her tone shifting positively.
“Yeah.. I hope so.. bye Cari” you say weakly with a soft smile
The line goes dead.
-
You have been going to the doctor 11 months ago, it was recommended by the doctor who helped with your bruises and aided your surgery, Matt Rogers. Since there was nothing particular wrong with your brain scans. He thought it might be something psychological, and he was right. Your neurologist doctor Dr.Barnes, said it is due to trauma that your memories are repressed. Dr. Barnes said it is possible to have specific memories of people, locations and events repressed when it is too hard to bear. He also said It is possible for memories of abuse that have been forgotten for a long time to be remembered….you hope it isn’t related to abuse.
You feel nervous going to his office, you are honestly terrified of the idea of regaining back your memories, what if you find something really disturbing about yourself? About Xavier? How did you get those bruises? Why were some of your clothes missing? Why going to the doctor all those months didn’t help as much? Actually at all?
His office is located not that far off from the the Police department, in the neurology department of Willowdale public hospital.
“Welcome back Miss Y/N, please have a seat” signalling you to take a seat in front of his desk.
It doesn’t help that his office has muted painted walls, changed from age and a faint smell of mouth wash.
“So Y/N, has there been any recent changes?”, He asked while he scanned over your file.
“I finally have a small fragment of Xavier..in my head..” You pinpoint to right side of your forehead.
He knew about your relationship with Xavier and that you don’t remember much of it. It's weird how your brain almost erased that incident and Xavier out of your head.
“Finally some great news, please tell me more!”  He lowered your files to give you his undivided attention
“I..I don’t remember the incident, or any memories that I shared with him, just that Xavier had a similar car to Sheriff’s car, but a red version of it.”
There was a torturing pause, you look at your doctor, he seemed lost in thought with brows hollowed and biting his lower lip, he seemed anxious while clicking his retractable pen
You felt tension in the air, when you mentioned the Sheriff..but why?
He breaks a heavy smile,“Well, that’s great news to hear, maybe being  around the Sheriff might be in your favour huh?” he chuckles with a Chesire’s smirk on his face
Oh fuck. He probably heard about the incident that happened yesterday.
Your cheeks turn red as you turn your head to the left side of the room, focusing on the wall full of his certificates and accomplishments.
“Oh sorry, Y/N, that was unprofessional..covering his face with his hand, and then went back to look at your files
"No it’s all good Dr.” You gulped and nodded.
He clears his throat and asks, “ any nightmares lately?”
You shake your head, “I haven’t had one the past few days”
He nods while holding your file, “Good, Good. Are you taking the medications regularly at the appropriate time?”
“Yes…. but I haven’t remember anything that much sadly, is it supposed to take that much of a time?” You ask confusedly
“the brain is a complex neurological system, you can’t force its responses.”  thrusting out his lips in displeasure
You feel like you are wasting not only your time but also your money. But he is a doctor that you can afford so you have no other choice?
“Ah, I see, well as long as I get some answers pretty soon.” You look down on his Brintons carpet.
You felt your chest tightened out of sadness, will you ever find out what truly happened?
“So far, we are not sure if it is going to be a short term memory or long term memory loss Y/N, so what you can do is keep taking the medications, and you will be eventually get better Miss Y/N”
You nod with a fake smile.
Do you have a choice?
-
Duncan knew you were at the doctor today, he wish he was able to follow you, but he had a huge workload today. He wanted to see what kinda doll-like outfit you wore today. He particularly liked you in pastel colours and plaid skirts.
It was his break now.  He was waiting a call from a certain someone.
Clock ticking, and his legs bouncing up and down waiting for that fucker to call.
Phone rings once
Duncan takes the call.
“Whats the update?”
“Hi Sheriff, he continues "Well, your sweet gal remembered something..”
Duncan eyes widen, and his hands grips the cord aggressively
“What does she remember?”, Duncan says in a threatening voice
“She remembers he had the red car….. the one you got rid of”
His Adam apple gulps out of nerve but he is relieved you still don’t remember what happened that day.
“You fucker, you said those medications well help her not remember a fucking thing-“ his voice getting louder.
“Hey, hey, hey calm down there sheriff, no need to lose your temper, she hasn’t remember anything the past goddam 11 months! And I haven’t even tried hypnos-
“Listen you fuckin cunt, if she remembers anything I swear to God- I will put you in jail for your multiple-“  he chastised with a harsh tone.
“Alright Alright! No need to flip your lid! I will see what I can do to not make her remember a thing”  
“You better, or else I will make you lose your fuckin job and lose your pitiful wife” Sheriff expresses in an authoritative sound and hangs the phone stridently.
The Doctor had multiple rape attempts done. Duncan was called several times because of noise complaints, hearing ladies crying or screaming in multiple occasions at night, in drive-ins, parks and carnivals. 4 out of 10 times, it was Duncan who stopped the rape from occurring but he didn’t bring it up to the police department, and instead used this knowledge in his favour and out of power to gain information about his girl, when he discovered that he was going to be her neurologist, and to use him to manipulate her medications or her so that she doesn’t remember a thing.
He will do anything to make you not remember. He is shaping you to be his perfect little housewife. He got this far and he is not going back.
some songs mentioned in the chapter
https://open.spotify.com/track/3dDtXviPnTfLUg111MuTic?si=0d4f2a331a244100 - Midnight and The Stars and You by Ray Noble
https://open.spotify.com/track/2uwP4d0aVAo90aet6UnaRK?si=dc41f548d3324c9d - Venus by Frankie Avalon
Taglist: @instincts-baby @9layerdevilfoodcake @beautyiswithinchaos  @langdons-pinkyring @bloodcoatedeclipse   @plymptxn-reborn @5am-cigarette  @anakinsslag @michaellangdonstanaccount  @rexellaaa @jimmason @devilish-hecate @angelicmichael  @car241 @kitty4860 @deliciousartpoliticsdean @sojournmichael @ritualmichael  @darkladyslytherin 
@luciahoneychurch @saamwilsonn  @chicaluna2410  @honeyblossom56 
@codysprincexx​ @thatbit5 @wasteland-babe
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hecohansen31 · 5 years
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Older (Post-Prison) Daddy! Duncan Shepherd+Reader 💗 (requested by anon) 💓
Thank you for your request! 🌸 I honestly love doing anything with post-prison Duncan (like we have so many talented people writing him as that and apparently sorry mommy I have a crush, also “HEEEY MR JAAAAILEEER” 🤣)
Hope you will like it! 💞
(Also if you want to ask for a moodboard all you need to do is shoot me an ask or a message and I will love you for ever! 😉😘✨)
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eclipsedpascal · 3 years
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Vile Intentions
60s!Older!Duncan Shepherd x Female Reader
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You’d been obsessing over your fathers older best friend for months, finding it near impossible to tear your eyes from the stunning man throughout every party of your parent's that he had attended. So when the notoriously promiscuous man made a move on your young and naive self, you decided to disregard your friends and mothers concerns of his ungodliness and let yourself collapse into his grasp. If only you had known of his growing obsession with you and it's Vile Intentions.
Disclaimer: the concept of 60s!Duncan was come up with by Daisy ( @celestialrequiem ) and all credits go to her! Daisy always comes up with the best concepts so if you’re interested in more creepy, 60s!Duncan then please check out days of candy!! It’s art😌 But with Daisies permission, i’ve been writing this piece for the past few months as a set up for a new au which I’m currently working on. I’ve already written multiple other (smutty) fics for it nd they should all hopefully be out soon:)
Please read the warnings!!
Warnings: inappropriate relationships, large age gap (reader is 20 whilst Duncan is in his early 40s), dad’s best friend!Duncan, very slight hints at daddy kink, some teasing, innocent reader, 60s housewife stereotype, possessiveness, manipulative behaviours, maybe some slight mentions of a religion corruption kink?, kinda creepy duncan, mentions of alcohol, implied judgments of reader and mentions of smut:)
Notes: This fic is kind of inspired by cruel intentions, the manipulation themes and sudcing stuff is anyway hehe. I haven’t actually finished this the way I wanted to, but ahh I just needed to post something so I can get out of the writer's block i’ve been having. So yeah! Basically this is just a bit of creepy, manipulative, 60s!Duncan that will be a set up for a few other fics i’ve got in the works:))💗
Word count: 3.3k
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You had been staring at him all night, taking every chance you could to wander off from the rest of the party and stare at the handsome man.
Duncan, or as your parents referred to him, Mr. Shepherd, was a friend of your fathers and attended most the parties your family held. He knew your father from work as he owned a partnering company to the one your father worked at. They had met each other several months ago at a business meeting, and despite Duncan being 10 years or so younger than your father, the two of them became good friends quickly. At these events, they could usually be found drinking together near the living room bar, smoking cubans and joking about their recent work triumphs. It was their favourite ritual.
Duncan was around 40, well spoken and extremely attractive. Every time you saw him you were blown away by his looks. It was shameful how starstruck you became in his presence and you knew it was wrong to be thinking of an older man in such way, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your father spoke so very fondly of him and you couldn’t agree more with his sentiments.
You remember the first night you saw him. He had come over for dinner with your parents whilst you were out with some girlfriends and you had found yourself arriving home just as he was leaving. You were far too scared to talk to him, so instead you snuck up the stairs and stopped on the landing to lean over the banister and watch your parents wish him a goodnight.
You were shy, only having flirted with a few boys whilst you were in school as dating didn't appeal to you the same way it did your peers. You had been taught from very young age that the happenings that came from ‘dating’ were ungodly and that you were to stay far, far away from them. Instead you were to simply court a good man and marry him when the time came, but it had been 2 years since you left school now and the most male attention you had been able to gather was some light small talk at the local diner that had frightened you too much to properly partake in.
Still being at home with your parents had some benefits, though. You had more free time that didn't yet have to be spent as the ‘good housewife’ and you cherished that, knowing you would have to fill that role at some point soon. Luckily that thought didn't worry you too much. You had been prepared for it by your mother most of your life and like any good young lady, practicing your cooking and cleaning was just a normal part of life.
Parties were good for this. You were able to cook for your parent’s many guests and receive their compliments and criticisms on it, though recently the only opinions you cared for were Duncan’s. You would secretly listen in on his conversations with your father as he devoured your dishes, hoping for some kind of praise from the man.
You had spent this party in particular watching him from behind the kitchen door, peering past it just enough that you had a good view of his stubble blanketed face. As per usual, he was joking with your father, holding a bourbon in one hand and smoking a cigar with the other.
There were a few other men gathered closely around them, but all were busy with their own conversations, leaving Duncan with the perfect opportunity to bring up the topic he had been eager to discuss all night.
Letting out a laugh, he turned his head and fixed his eyes onto you. Seeing you freeze up in fear, he winked at you before returning to the conversion with your father. “Say, is that you daughter over there?” He lifted his glass in your direction, noticing you had now disappeared back into your not so secret hiding spot. You had retreated behind the door when you saw him point, not wanting to be in any kind of trouble with your father.
“Mhm, that’s Y/N. Our youngest.” your father chuckled at your bashfulness.
“She’s beautiful” He took a drag from his cigar, thinking back to the many times he had spotted your precious little face staring. Of course, he already knew who you were; but your father needn't be aware of that.
Your father nodded along. “She’s a pretty doll, but she’s too shy for her own good.” He looked down at the floor, worried thoughts running through his mind at the reminder of your anxiousness.
“Oh yeah?” This didn't actually surprise Duncan in the slightest; It was obvious you were shy. He found you gazing at him every time you were in the same room and yet you had never spoken to him. But this silent attraction of yours had never made you seem any less appealing to him, if anything the challenge of coaxing you out of your shell only served to entice him further.
He liked how quiet you were, the idea of receiving the reward of your sweet young voice when he finally managed to pluck sentences out of you delighted him. Just thinking about you excited him far more than anybody else he had been with. You were uncharted territory that was willing and wanting to be claimed by him. Nothing turned him on more.
“Well no man wants to marry a girl like that. She’d be a good housewife one day if she’d just talk to the men that showed interest in her! But every time someone’s tried, she’s gotten all flustered. Doesn’t say a damn word! Then they just.. loose interest and well.. here we are.” Your father cherished you, but he feared you would struggle in the real world; being you couldn’t hold a conversation to save your life.
Taking another drag of his cigar, he watched the door and listened to your fathers concerns, hoping to see you pop your head back around to sneak another peek at him, and surely enough you did. Your father watched this interaction, seeing the two of you lock eyes before yours fell to the ground cowardly. “She doesn’t exactly make it easy.” Your father commented.
Preparing to finally approach you after too many nights spent feeling your eyes on him without a single word spoken, Duncan finished his drink and placed it down on the hardwood bar beside him, saying one last thing to your father before parting. “Well perhaps those men should've put up more of a fight.”
Giving an illusion of focus, you stared down at your feet as you nervously danced them around each other. His polished black shoes entered your vision, your eyes trailing their way up his pant legs and blazer to his stubble sculpted face. Looking up at him from where you stood in the kitchen doorway, you felt your cheeks bloom a hot, cherry red. You were terrified.
“I couldn’t help but notice your staring back there, sweetheart.” He smiled down at you, his large stature making him tower over your frame.
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words would come out. You wanted to defend yourself and apologise for your behaviour, but all you managed to squeak out after your long, unwanted silence was a meek “I-i’m sorry.”
“There’s no need for apologises. I enjoyed it.” He placed his hand on the wall next to you, leaning over you and licking his lip as he stared you up and down. He had never been this close to you before. He could make out the blue in your eyeshadow and smell the floral tones of the sweet fragrance you adorned. Yet he still craved to be closer.
You didn't know what to say now he was being so forward. Forgetting every word in your vocabulary, you felt your breathing grow heavy with the weight of fear now coursing through you. You looked back down at his feet, just wanting to avoid his eyes. Obviously you had dreamt of this occurring many times before, but now he was really here on front of you, the realisation of having to hold a conversation with such an attractive, older man had become far too daunting.
“You’re a nervous little thing, aren’t you?” He grazed his thumb over the bottom of your chin and lifted it slightly, his cigar balanced securely between his index and middle finger of the same hand gracing your face. “You know, I don’t bite, little one.” He chuckled, easing your nerves as you laughed lightly at his joke.
“So daddy’s not mad at me?” Feeling more confident now you had spoken, You looked past his shoulder at your father who was watching your conversation intently. You found it curious he approved of Duncan’s flirting.
“Oh no, Daddy’s not mad at you. I just thought you could use some company.” He caressed the outline of your jaw before bringing his hand to his face and puffing on his cigar, doing his very best to suppress the groan that was threatening to leave his lips after hearing your use of such a word. And his own words? They were smooth, of course. His confidence captivating and the way he bathed in your innocence; intoxicating.
He was a very flirtatious man, that you knew. You had heard rumours of his promiscuous nature when listening in on your mothers gossip sessions with her friends, all of them saying he hadn’t a wife, yet his bed was never empty.
You never saw him at Sunday service either. Everyone you knew would attend church, but not him. Not even once had he graced your congregation with an appearance. Your mother had commented on this concerning attribute of his to your father once before, during dinner, but he dismissed it, saying Duncan was a busy man and couldn’t afford to go to church when he was running such a large company; not even on god’s day.
But when you saw his face, all of your worries and concerns were washed away. He could have confessed unspeakable sins and you would have still found yourself worshiping him, falling to your knees and grovelling at his feet for just a slither of attention. And if your father trusted and defended him so often, then why shouldn’t you? Daddy knew him best and he wouldn’t be so open to him flirting with you if he was truly such a corrupt man.
“Company would sure be swell. That is.. as long as it’s you.” You batted your eyelashes at him, doing your best to uphold a facade confidence and flirt back. You didn't want to mess this up.
He smirked at the boldness of your words, moving his hand to run over your cheekbone with his finger tip of his thumb. “What’d you say we take a walk outside? Get a little more privacy.” He lowered his arm, offering it to you and waiting for you to grab it so he could lead you into the garden.
You considered your next move carefully, knowing it could be vital; but it didn't take you long to decide. You didn't care about the 20 year age gap or his reputation, too infatuated with his looks and charm to care about the judgmental stares you would receive if you walked out the door with him. So you accepted.
He finally had you.
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That night in the garden had been incredible. He was a very traditional man from what it seemed, extremely polite and respectful; far more than any man your own age had ever been. You knew others might not agree with your pairing, but you didn't care. He had asked if he could take you to the pictures the next Friday and you couldn’t have been more thrilled, trying to hide your excitement as you accepted his offer.
Your parents had argued with each other over breakfast the next morning, your mother scolding your father for letting such a man attempt to court you. She wasn’t happy when she found out you would be seeing him again but your father supported it, saying he couldn't think of anybody else who could better look after you. Duncan was more than wealthy enough to care for you properly and you were well aware of that.
Duncan knew that too, of course. He knew he could offer you so many things you had never experienced before. Whether that was buying you expensive jewellery he knew your father never did, or fucking your virgin cunt senseless, it didn't matter. He just knew he could and he would. He wanted you. Wanted to make you his and nobody else’s.
Things had moved pretty fast after your first date. The two of you would see each other pretty regularly. He would take you to dinner at a number of fancy restaurants he liked, or for drives in his red Cadillac where he would slide a hand over onto your thigh and leave it there whilst you watched him drive. You thought nothing of this little habit. It was something that made you tremble, yes, but you would have never suspected it to be his intention. Just as you didn't suspect his true motives for dating you in the first place. You would have never guessed he wanted you in the vulgar manner he truly did, and certainly not since the very first time he saw you; that would just be absurd.
At first the realisation it wasn’t just another quick fuck he was craving was much to Duncan’s dismay, but he grew to appreciate his new found desire. He wanted to lure you in, use his suave and traditional act to make you slowly fall for him, convince you he was just as reputable and unblemished as you were. He dreamt of the day he could call you his wife, his personal piece of arm candy to parade around and have obsess over him whenever and however much he desired it. It shouldn't be too hard, that he knew. You were so young and unguided. Easily manipulated, one might say. He adored the way you looked at him, your eyes glassed over with innocence, he almost felt himself wanting to look after you. Make you his little girl. But mostly he just couldn't stand the idea of another man’s hands on you. He needed to be there before someone else swooped in and stole you from him. Like an eagle stalking it’s pray.
Whenever he would drop you off at home, he would always walk you up to the front door and plant a cheeky kiss on your lips, politely pulling away after just a few seconds; but this one time was different. He slipped up.
You had been seeing him for just over three months at the time and were falling for him harder everyday. So when he walked you to the door and pressed his lips against yours just as he always did, you made the impulsive decision to keep him there a just little longer, moving your hand up to his hair and stopping him from pulling back.
You felt his hand rest on your waist, his other moving up your back to press you closer to him. You’d not been excepting his enthusiasm and it shook you to your core, never having been kissed like this before. The furthest you’d ever gone with a boy had been a four second kiss that happened in the playground at school over a decade ago.
Duncan’s lips began moving against yours, rough and urgent. It was too much. You felt your cunt grow hot and you emitted a sudden whimper at the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, flailing them around as he held you tight.
You felt the bittersweet tang of blood hit your tongue as he bite down on your bottom lip, the pain of it somehow transforming into more pleasure as he violently pushed you into the door, creating a bang so loud you were sure everyone inside would have had heard it.
Of course you had been right, your mother had in fact heard it and was now interrupting the frenzied, lust filled moment you were sharing with Duncan by calling out your name, trying to find out if you were finally home at an hour this late.
He released you from his grasp, placing his arms down at his sides and pausing. You stared up at him, lips pierced and face completely red with embarrassment. You were filled with an urge you didn't quite understand as you found yourself wishing the moment hadn't ended so quickly.
“Sleep well, Y/N.” he quickly wished you goodbye, running his hand through his styled curls and retreating down the path to his car after his sudden loss of self control. You watched him for a moment before opening the front door and stuffing yourself inside, just wanting to run upstairs and hide from your prying mother’s questions.
Despite Duncan’s words, you didn’t sleep well that night. You tossed and turned for hours, tirelessly fighting the unsatisfied tingling feeling that had occupied your crotch ever since he first set his perverted lips on yours. You’d never felt like this before. Your body radiated heat like magma, urges feeling as if they had become trapped underneath your sweltering skin, trying desperately to claw themselves free from your pent up limbs before you combust from complete absence.
It all felt so new. So stimulating. so.. arousing. How could you have possibly been expected to restrain yourself from falling for someone who you could make you feel such carnal pleasures? You had been hidden from affection your whole life, only to have Duncan bathe you in it; buying you anything and taking you anywhere you wanted. He nurtured you as if you were the most precious object in existence, making sure that the overwhelming sense of love for him inside of you grew so present that when the time came to propose, you couldn't have possibly said no to him; even if you had wanted to.
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Your vision skewed and hazed by the puffy, white vail which draped over your face, you stared down at the church hall flooring, doing your best not to stumble over your own feet, being far too terrified to gaze up at the man you were destained to be with forever.
You were gaining on the end of the isle rapidly, fear flowing through your veins at a rate you had never experienced before and feeling the burn of your family and friends eyes scorching into your virgin skin. There they all stood, watching your young, trembling hands grip into your fathers arm with the sudden realisation you would soon be without him and belong to another.
Reaching the inevitable end, you left your fathers hold, carrying yourself up towards your future husband on only the dreams of what you hoped would be. Hearing the once deafening organ halt to a sudden silence, he lifted your vail and from deep within his chest, released a satisfied exhale, being reminded of the blinding and innocent beauty he was marrying.
Remembering your voice, as shaky as it may have been, you plead your vows. You stared up into his eyes and searched for the warm comfort his aquamarines had bore reassurance into your own with many a time before, solace and joy settling into you immediately.
Accepting your ring with a smile as wide as your now sparkling eyes, you muttered the fatal ‘’I do.”
"You may kiss the bride.” The priest chided happily, undivulged to how sinful of a man he had just bound you to.
Leaning in, Your new husband kissed you passionately. Quickly enough to look respectful in front of your peers and relatives, of course; but turbulently lewd enough to snatch your breathe away. He moved back, keeping his hold on your waist locked into place as he looked down at you with a devilish grin as you beamed back up at him.
“My bride. All mine.”
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Thank you sm for reading!!🥺💗
Tags: @celestialrequiem @ntxoza @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @blakescoven @ritualmichael @ghostangels @fernfiction @ferndolan @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @brooklinn13 @kitty4860 @instincts-baby @michaellangdonstanaccount @9layerdevilfoodcake @chicaluna2410 @plymptxn-reborn I've tagged just anyone who I thought might be interested, if you would like to be moved feel free to let me know!! you can also lemme know if you would like to be added to the tag list to:)
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