#Duncan Shepherd x Female Reader

[myfavouritelunatic]

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers ❤️

Thank you heaps for tagging me, @gil-galadhwen ❤️😘

My top five in no particular order:

The Blacksmith - Halbrand/Sauron x Female Reader (WIP but definitely heading into the third and final act now) - The Rings of Power

I Felt It Too - Halbrand x Galadriel Oneshot - The Rings of Power

Mark Me - Michael Langdon x Female Reader Oneshot - American Horror Story

Your Strength - Duncan Shepherd x Female Reader Oneshot - House of Cards

Two Rings - Part One and Part Two - Sauron x Galadriel - LOTR/The Rings of Power

Tagging, with no pressure: @pursuitseternal @coraleethroughthelookingglass @somebirdortheother @honeyfarts666 @starlady66 @nenyabusiness @vellichormybeloved @lettalady @maeve-curry-writes @bad-surprise @formerlyir and any other writers who want to join in! ❤️

[eclipsedpascal]

Within This Room

Duncan Shepherd x Reader

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.

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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:)

[ritualmichael]

house hunting with duncan (female reader)

hgtv but make it nsfw. honestly i got this idea and wrote it in like 30 minutes so idek what it is.

warnings: fingering, language, public sexual acts

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“And here we have the newly renovated kitchen,” the realtor said as she led the two of you through another doorway. “Brand new stainless steel appliances and flooring.”

Honestly, your feet were starting to hurt and the realtor's high pitched voice was getting on your nerves. This was the third condo you and Duncan had toured today and they were all starting to blend into one boring, white-granite-countertop, open-floor-plan mess in your head.

Duncan could tell you were getting tired when you didn’t have anything to say. The kitchen was the one place in your future home that you weren’t going to settle on. It had to be perfect, but you were starting not to care anymore.

“Can we have a moment?” Duncan asked the realtor, his hand going to your back.

“Yes, of course! I’ll be right outside,” she said with a big, fake smile before walking out, leaving the front door slightly open.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like it?” He asked, turning to you.

You reached out, pulling yourself to him and resting your forehead on his chest. “I’m just over these tours. I’m tired of looking for places. I want to have a place of our own already.”

Duncan raked his fingers through your hair, his other arm wrapping around you. “I know, baby. We just have to find the right place.”

“This place is fine,” you said, lifting your head and looking around.

“You deserve more than fine.” He reached out, hooking a finger under your chin and lifting your head to look at him. “Right?”

“Right,” you sighed, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. You meant for it to be brief, just a quick peck, but his arm tightened around you and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into him and his warmth. Kissing Duncan was comforting. It never got old, no matter how many times you did it.

You felt his fingers run through your hair again, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin below your ear. He knew that spot always made you shiver.

“Mm,” you said between kisses, your hands moving to his chest but not applying any pressure. “We should probably stop.”

“Probably,” he breathed out, kissing you even harder. You could feel him smirking against your lips when you groaned, both out of annoyance and satisfaction.

Then his hands were on your hips as he slowly walked you backwards until you hit the counter, one of his legs slotting between yours.

“Duncan,” you warned against his lips. “Seriously.”

“What?” He asked, pulling away just enough to look down at you. “I’m just checking that the kitchen is up to my standards.”

“What standards do you have?” You laughed.

One of his hands went to your neck, his thumb running over your jaw. “The counters have to be good enough for me to fuck you on them,” his words being punctuated by his thigh pressing between your legs.

Your eyes fluttered at the pressure and his words, an unsteady breath leaving your lips. “Well?” You said, leaning in closer to his lips. “Are they?”

“Let’s see,” Duncan said as he roughly pressed his lips to yours, one hand still on your neck and the other reaching between your bodies, popping open the button of your jeans.

You knew this was a stupid idea. It was reckless and immature and you didn’t care. The last thing you were worried about was the annoying realtor or the mind-numbing tour you were supposed to be on.

All you could really think about was Duncan, especially when you felt his fingers press against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear.

“As much as I’d love to bend you over these countertops, we don’t have time,” he mumbled against your lips as his fingers worked in circles. You let out a small gasp as you nodded, pressing further into his touch.

“This is just a trial run,” you breathed out, making Duncan laugh quietly.

“That’s my girl,” he said as he pulled your underwear aside and nudged your legs further apart with his knee before pressing two fingers into you.

You groaned at the sudden stretch, his mouth swallowing it as he kissed you. One of your hands went to his hair, giving it a tug when you felt his fingers curl and hit that spot that he never missed. He had you familiarized head to toe and his hands always knew the right places to touch.

“Shhh,” he whispered as you let out a whimper when his fingers started to quickly curl, pressing on that spot roughly and repeatedly. Your knees felt weak and you probably would’ve dropped if it wasn’t for his hand on your hip, pressing you into the counter.

His fingers kept a steady, quick pace as he kissed you. You tried to keep up with the kisses but you couldn’t catch your breath, the warmth and tension between your legs creeping up to your chest and making it harder to breathe. Instead, Duncan pressed kisses to the corner of your mouth and over your jaw, reaching the place below your ear that he had caressed earlier, starting this whole thing.

The combination of his warm mouth against your skin, his rugged breathing in your ear, and his fingers that were getting quicker was starting to become overwhelming. Then his thumb started rubbing circles against your clit and you knew you were done for.

“Fuck,” you moaned, causing Duncan’s free hand to come up to cover your mouth.

“Save those pretty little sounds just for me,” Duncan mumbled against your skin, nipping at your ear.

You nodded, breathing heavily through your nose and rocking your hips as you felt that familiar tension starting to build and build until it felt like it was going to snap.

And when it did you had to use what little energy you had left to fight back to sounds that wanted to spill from your chest, Duncan’s hand still over your mouth.

“There we go,” he cooed in your ear. “Good girl.”

Your head was spinning as Duncan worked you through the rest of your orgasm, your head eventually dropping to his shoulder and his fingers slowly easing out of you when he felt the way your walls tiredly pulsed against them, signaling that you we’re finished.

He pulled his hand away from your mouth as soon as it was safe to, allowing you to catch your breath.

“Jesus christ,” you breathed out, your body heavy and weak against his.

“I’d give the kitchen an 8 out of 10,” he said, reaching for the hand towel that hung from the oven handle. It was meant for display but Duncan didn’t care as he wiped his messy hand off on it.

You let out a tired laugh, shaking your head. “Just an 8?”

“I could do much better than an 8,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

Reaching between your bodies, you adjusted your jeans around your hips and buttoned them back up, earning a groan when your hands knocked against the bulge in Duncan’s pants. You lifted your head from his shoulder, giving him a devious look.

“Want to show me what a 10 is like at your place?”

“Fuck yes,” he groaned, leaning and giving you a quick but rough kiss before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the kitchen, your legs still a little weak and causing you to stumble on your first few steps.

When you both walked out of the apartment in a hurry, the realtor quickly looked up from her phone and gave you a big, somewhat annoyed, smile.

“So? Thoughts?”

You and Duncan paused, but only for a moment.

“We’ll call you!” he said before you both took off down the hallway, laughing and practically running to the car.

You were probably going to be too busy to call her.

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

The Better Shepherd

a/n: it takes a while to get to the duncan part, but i just wanted to add a little bit of a background story. hope you guys like it

summary: in which one shepherd is better than the others

pairing: duncan shepherd x (implied) fem!reader

warnings: trash talking Bill Shepherd, Duncan trying to hit on people at the bar, alcohol use, insinuations of smut, pre/post-smut(?)

word count: 2.3K

Entering the building, the bustling of everyone moving about filled your ears. People moved left and right, up and down, along the ceiling. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but for all you knew, they were. Phones were ringing one after another - it was chaotic really, but nothing you weren't used to, and nothing new for the person you were about to meet.

Upon getting closer to the door, someone stepped in front of you. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you can't go in there." You sighed, withholding the urge to roll your eyes before looking up at the man in front of you. With a crisp, black suit on and hair slicked back, the man was much like all the other people in this building. Besides the women, although they did dress professionally as well.

"He knows I'm here." You tried to move past him, but he sidestepped you, blocking your path again. You let out a sigh, crossing your arms over your chest, "Look, sir. I understand you're just doing your job, but I can assure you-"

He cut you off, and you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your cool. "Ma'am, as I said before, I cannot let you enter-"

He, too, was cut off, but not by you. "Micheem, are you holding up my guest?" The man, who you assumed was Micheem, glanced back and bowed his head, "I apologize, sir. I didn't realize you were expecting her."

"It's fine," you said as the man turned back to you. You didn't bother trying to hold your growing smirk, "Next time, you know. I don't need permission from you or anyone else in this building."

He nodded and stepped to the side, allowing you to move forward. You linked your arm with the man you were meeting with, "Frank."

He smiled at you before gesturing to the office door, "Y/N. Shall we go in?" You nodded curtly as the two of you walked into his office. Once he shut the door behind you, you turned to Frank, acknowledging him with a proper greeting.

"I've missed you, old man," you said, pulling him in for a hug. He laughed heartily, "I can't say the same goes for you." You scoffed, holding a hand to your chest in feign offense, "And here, I thought you actually cared about me. But wait, I forgot Francis J. Underwood doesn't care about anyone but himself."

He cut his eyes at you before sitting down on the couch. You sat down across from him and slipped your heels off, a relieved sigh leaving your mouth as you got comfortable.

"What can I do for you?" Frank asked, watching you in amusement. It never failed to crack him up at how carefree you were, and no, it wasn't because of your age. It was because you weren't concerned with following the norm but always played by the rules. Well, sometimes.

"So, as you know, I've been working on my project for about 18 months now, and I'm ready to put it into action." You massaged your feet as you spoke, awaiting Frank's response.

Frank Underwood was an interesting man. No one ever knew what he was thinking or feeling, and if they did, they were wrong. Few people understood him, and you were a part of those few.

"Well," he said, leaning back in his chair, his thick Southern accent on display, "I think it's about time. Now, for your sponsors. Who did you have in mind?"

"The Shepherds." He raised a brow, standing up and walking over to the window. You watched with bated breath. If there was one person in the entire world that you completely trusted, it was Frank. You highly respected his opinions and thoughts, which you couldn't say the same about his wife. But that's a story for another time.

"I'll set up an appointment for you." He finally said, easing your nerves. He turned to you, light brown eyes twinkling with mischief. "Then, we'll figure out a plan."

That conversation was months, if not almost a year, ago, and a lot had happened since then. The one person whom you truly cared about was gone. Gone - one moment he was there, the next he wasn't.

But, as Frank had told you one time, "people leave, you grieve, and then move on." He left, and you were still grieving. Of course, you were. But you seemed to be the only person who cared. Not even his wife, sweet, sweet Claire, seemed to care. For her, it was only a leg up, another step on the political ladder, full of sex, lies, and murder.

Speaking of Claire, you were sitting across from her. Her cold, calculating light blue eyes were boring into yours. You stared back with the same intensity. If there was one thing you knew about the woman sitting in front of you was that she didn't back down. However, it was the same for you.

"You know," she spoke, voice ringing through the stillness of the room. "Francis always trusted you. He didn't trust many people, but you..." her eyes twinkled just as Frank's had that day, "He trusted you completely."

"Those feelings were mutual." You leaned back against the plush cushions of the couch, crossing your left leg over your right. You weren't trying to assert your dominance; but, you wanted Claire to know that you were serious, serious about this plan and what Frank and you had worked on together.

"I'm glad." Claire paused, taking a sip of her coffee before continuing, "I heard you were to partner with the Shepherds?" Her question wasn't so much of one, more so that of a statement. She knew you were, but she wanted clarification. Smart.

"Yes. I think both the I and the Shepherds would benefit from this partnership." While Frank had set up a meeting for you, a shift in plans had canceled it. And, unfortunately, you weren't able to meet with them.

"Well, I hear that they're going to be at the Radisson Hotel tomorrow evening. A few drinks with them, and I'm sure they'd be more than happy to hear you out."

If there was one thing you like about Claire, even though her, shall you say irritating, attributes, it was that she seemed to at least care for you. Whether that was fake or because of Frank, or which you doubted, genuine, you didn't know. What you did know, however, was that she was presenting you with an opportunity. And you'd be a fool for not taking it.

There was a gathering at the hotel. That much you could see as you got out of your taxi. Cars upon cars were outside, and you knew that finding Annette would be trickier than you thought.

Smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in your clothes, you released a sigh before making your way into the hotel. The lobby was packed with people, mostly politicians. It was a bit overwhelming, so you made your way to the bar.

The bar was the most convenient place - you could scan the lobby with ease without having to move through the jungle of people. You tapped your fingers on the marble counter, another sigh leaving you.

For as long as you'd been there, you thought you would have seen Annette or Bill. Or any of their staff. But to your luck, you saw none. You were never one to give up; anyone who knew you knew that fact, but you were starting to believe Annette wasn't there at all.

The thought of Claire setting you up for failure crossed your mind before you pushed it aside. While the 'C' in Claire stood for conniving, cold, cruel (among others) - you didn't think she would stoop this low.

A drink slid your way snapped you away from your thoughts. You looked up to the bartender with a raise of your eyebrow. He shrugged, slinging his rag over his shoulder before nodding over to the left of you.

You turned your head and met a pair of blue eyes. The man raised his glass to you before taking a sip, all while keeping eye contact with you.

Ignoring him, you continued looking around the crowd of people but, to no avail, saw neither of the Shepherds you needed. Just when you were about to give up and call it a night, someone slid into the seat next to you.

"I'm assuming you don't drink."

Still facing away, eyes mindlessly tracking each new face that popped up, you replied with a simple, "I don't drink when I'm working."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the person tilt their head, their middle finger circling the rim of their cup in an almost hypnotizing manner. "You don't look like you're working. Unless," you finally turned to look at them, "you're a reporter - blending in, watching everyone?"

"Not a reporter, but I am working - well, I was. Someone interrupted me." The man shook his head, a slightly muffled laugh coming from behind the glass covering his mouth.

The chances of Annette, or Bill for that matter, being at the Raddison were slim to none. And what better way to make up for wasted time than by indulging in someone's game.

"Oh, was that someone me? If so, you should know," He leaned forward, brown hair staying in place, as he whispered the last part, "I'm not sorry at all."

"I can see," you grabbed the untouched cup of alcohol and took a sip. Whiskey, you thought as you angled your body to face the brunette. Not your usual choice, but hey, it would do for now.

"I'm Dun-"

"Duncan Shepherd," you finished, causing him to raise an eyebrow as he set his cup on the marble counter.

"You know who I am." He seemed almost deflated at your admission, and you were curious as to why.

You nodded, smirking at the slightly surprised look on his face, "Of course, I do. Everyone knows the Shepherds to some degree."

He nodded slowly as if your words were just now registering to him. A smirk crossed his features, which you could easily see was a defense mechanism - but for what?

"You said you were working. What are - excuse me - were you working on?"

"I was actually looking for your mother," he seemed to perk up at that. "A... let's just say - a friend of mine told me that the Shepherds would be here tonight, but, so far, the only Shepherd I see is you."

He squinted at you with a slight tilt of his head. He does that a lot, you noted. Knowing his mannerisms when particular topics were at hand could be beneficial if you were to work with his family.

"Which Shepherd were you looking for then?" Before you could answer, he was quick to ask, "Wait, let me guess - Bill?"

He watched as your face scrunched up a bit before you laughing lightly through your nose. "God, no. No offense-"

"No, no. Please, use as much offense as you want." Duncan was quick to correct you, leaving you shaking your head while laughing.

"Well, with as much offense, your uncle is a bit of, shall I say, dick?" Duncan nodded at your statement, prodding you to continue. "I mean, he's probably one of the most conceited people I've ever met, and believe me - I've met a lot."

"Yeah, my uncle is a work of art, isn't he? I have to say - I'm glad he wasn't your first choice."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"I have my reasons. Now, since you've declared your loathing for my dear uncle," he smirked at the laugh you tried to hide, "I assume you were looking for my mother."

"I was. I had plans to meet with your mother months ago, but we never got around to it." That was the partial truth.

He nodded, turning his body even more so that your knees were brushing up against the others'. Leaning forward, he rested his face on his hand, "What do you know? Neither she nor my uncle is here. What a shame..."

He released a leering sigh before a coy smirk took over, "But would you look at that. I'm here. I guess your friend was right."

"Something tells me you're happy about that," you mused, tilting your head ever so slightly.

You received a half attempted shrug in response, "How about I show you just how happy I am about that?"

"So," he flopped onto the bed next to you, heavy pants falling from his lips, "what do you say? Do you want to take a walk on the dark side, work with the better Shepherd?"

You tilted your head to the ceiling, a loud sigh leaving in between your own panting. In all honesty, you had no problem working with Duncan. If anything, you preferred him over anyone else. And it wasn't just because of what had transpired only minutes before - but because you felt you could trust him and that both of you would achieve many things together.

Now, back to the reason you sighed - you wanted to see his reaction. How would he react? Would he give up? You couldn't have yourself working with someone who gave up at the slightest inconvenience.

"If you need more persuasion," He paused, adjusting his body so that he was hovering above you, blue eyes trailing over your face. "I'll be more than happy to provide you with it."

You laughed a little, directing your gaze back to him, "Although that offer sounds very intriguing, I think I'll pass." You sat up, swinging your feet off the side of the bed. Walking to the bathroom, you turned to see his smirk had fallen.

Before entering the bathroom, you looked at him with a smirk of your own. "How about we discuss how we're going to be working together, instead? Then, you could persuade me more."

Ah, the perks of working with the "better" Shepherd.

tags (if you would like to be added/removed, let me know): @kitty4860

[daadddysprincessss]

Bonfire nights

Parings: Jim mason x y/n

Summary: takes place in the past - the first memories you had of jim. Most likely a 2 or 3 part series

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.3k

taglist: @ghostiesbedroom @lovelylangdonx @queencocoakimmie@langdonsinferno  @peachesandfern @gold-dragon-slayer  @charlottelouise135 @hplotrfan @rosegoldrichie @taryn-just-happened @rocketgirl2410@little-grunge-flowerz @ccodyfern @1-800-bitchcraft @langdonsoceaneyes @sojourne @starwlkers @bellejeunefillesansmerci (hope its okay if i tagged you)

You sat on your favourite rock - close enough to hear the waves crash at the other rocks beneath you - but far enough for the water not to reach you, it was where you first met - Jim.

At the other end of the beach you could hear laughing in the distance, it reminded you of the late nights with Jim and his friends - you would watch them from afar, they always seemed to be laughing and having fun by the bonfire - you were a watcher. 

-2 months ago-

You watched and listened to Jim and his friends for what seemed like forever - you wanted to be like them - outgoing, goofy, sporadic- you were neither of those things, they just seemed like a really cool crowd of people. But one night it was all about to change - Jim saw you sitting alone as he slowly walked down the mini trail that lead into the bay-

“Hey - you alright” Jim called out from behind you

You turned your head slightly to see who it was - “yeah im fine” - Jim had messy brown curls, bright ocean eyes you could see from a mile away - and he was always in that jean jacket, it suited him so well. This was your first memory of Jim - of course you saw him at school but you never actually talked to him.

“Wanna come join our fire” jim asked softly as he walked towards you

You turned to face him then immediately looked over at the huge bonfire - “its not really my scene over there” you laughed - you could hear ms popular heathers laugh above them all.

Jim laughed - “its not mine either but its a lot less lonely”

You pulled your jacket tighter to your body - “maybe” you spoke softly - you did have a small crush on Jim, he was kind and sweet (from what you could see).

Jim crouched down beside you - “the offer is always standing love” he smiled as he looked out into the ocean with you.

“Thanks” you smiled - “im y/n” you spoke softly

“Jim - Jim mason” he smiled - god there's that smile. Jim knelt there for a few more minutes then got up walked towards his mini party -

“Bye Jim” you said quietly to yourself

Its been a few days since you’ve seen Jim in the bay of palos - but you would see and hear his mum pacing back and forth yelling at the bay boys (jims friends) for being so damn loud at night, but you had hoped to see him again..

-2 weeks pass by-

You decided to change it up and go out to the bay earlier - you wanted to soak in the sun… for once - today was different, it was quiet and calm, the tide was low, there was not a segal near to hear, but the best part was there was no bay boys, just Jim and his twin sister Medina surfing. Jim and Medina were basically attached at the hip - but they have such different personalities, Jim was a ‘follower’ and Medina had a strong personality, I guess their relationship was unique. 

Both of them made surfing look so easy, you could never ! on the best of days you were lucky not to trip over your own 2 feet.

“HEY” Jim yelled from what seemed like the middle of the bay - his hand was waving at you

You had your legs stretched out with a book in your hand - homework of course - for a second you didnt realize Jim was waving at you, “what? Me??!” you yelled back at him

Medina waved her hand to come join them - “I'M STUDYING” you yelled back while holding your book up.

An hour or so went by without any disturbance from the mason twins, it was nice - peaceful. You could help but think of what Jim looked like while out on the ocean, and the texture of his hair - he probably smelt of salt water - his beautiful chocolate curls probably look amazing after being in the water all afternoon.

“Hey sunshine - how've you been” Jims voice boomed from above you while he blocked your sun-

“I've been well - how about yourself mason” you looked up at him - “it been awhile” you laughed.

“Yeah yeah - it's good to be back, but hey - you still owe me” Jim smiled 

“Excuse me - owe you what ?” you questioned him, then yourself

“You said maybe to coming to a bonfire and i didnt see you at the last 2 we had, so your coming tonight” jim smiled as he unzipped the top half of his wetsuit 

“Tonight? I - im uh busy” you tried to make an excuse - he was a gift sent from god, the way the water droplets fell down his shoulders onto his chest - it made it hard to concentrate 

Jim laughed - “i'll come pick you up, lets say 8pm?” 

Its like he didn't even give you a choice - “uh - sure, yeah that works”

“Its the blue house yeah?” jim asked as he pointed to the blue-ish white house with no fence

“Yep - thats me” you laughed

“Its a date” Jim smiled as he picked up his board and walked away

“A - date” you whispered to yourself

Within seconds of realizing you were going on a mini date with Jim freaking Mason you stood up and grabbed your belongings and literally ran up the hiking trail - you needed to get ready, to shower, pick out an outfit, hair, makeup - but there just felt like there was not enough time. 

When you got into your bedroom you dropped everything on the floor and headed to your dresser -- you picked out a pair of black ripped jeans, and paired it with a pale yellow graphic tee, for shoes you would probably just wear your vans - who cares if they were dirty, they were old anyways. As for your hair you sprayed some dry shampoo at the root and a texture spray throughout - the messy style just fit you perfect.

‘Y/n! - theres a young man at the door for you” you mother called out

“Already?” you spoke quietly to yourself - you quickly grabbed your cell, and a pony… just incase.

It felt like you ran down the stairs but you knew you werent it was just moving so fast - “hi Jim” you smiled when you met him at the bottom 

“You look - wow” Jim smiled at you

There it was - that smile, it melted your heart - maybe cause it was the way his eyes smiled with his mouth - or maybe cause he just seem genuinely happy.

“Shall we ?” jim held his hand out for you

Your fingers interlocked his and he quickly pulled you out the front door - “arent we taking this path” you questioned jim as he walked past the short cut down -

“No” he shook his head as he kept walking with you

Something didnt feel right, you have never seen jim take the long before - “jim where are we going”

“Down to the bay - where just gonna take a different path, i dont wanna share you with anyone yet”

“Share me?” you raised a brow

“Yeah - your the dark mysterious girl, and i like that.”

“Jim your freaking me out” your feet stopped in place

“Im sorry - i didnt mean to freak you out - i just wanna get to know you better before my friends rip me away’ his voice cracked

“Oh-” your voice was low - “so your just gonna ditch me with a bunch of random popular girls?”

“Oh god no - medina, my sister will be there. And besides your staying by my side.” Jim smiled

You nodded your head and proceeded walk behind jim - the both of you walked in silence for a moment, you reached the top of the bay -

“y/n” 

“Yeah jim” you looked up at him

“I really like you - i kinda always have.” jims eyes locked to yours

[hecohansen31]

It Was Fun Till It Lasted

Duncan Shepherd x F1 Pilot Female! Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I have been a bit silent the latest weeks, but I just got hit by the inspiration train as of lately (even more after all the F1 glory we have been getting) and I just thought about a small drabble, about Duncan in the race car universe.

Not as a driver, but more like a sponsor.

This is very PWP, even for my sentimental ass, so I do hope that you’ll like it, even though it isn’t the most perfect thing ever (just to warn you).

Also I just wanted to give @guiltyfiend a big shoutout because she has been a constant source of inspiration for me with various fics (‘Quid Pro Quo’ has been the main reason why for the existence of this drabble) so do check out her lovely fics!

I am also personally, maybe (since I don’t feel apprecciated in the other fandoms I am in) of making a few comebacks in this fandom, if any of you would like iit obviously!

So, please, if you want more, don’t forget to leave some kind of feedback I truly apprecciate it from the bottom of my heart and it’ll truly make my heart beat stronger and my fingers write faster!

Don’t ever ever forget to support your beloved writers with feedback, if you liked what they wrote!

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: Galas can be annoying things, but when an handsome fellow accidentally drenches you in champagne there are many ways your night might change.

WORDS: 5,4 K

WARNINGS: Mention of Sexism, Misogyny, Harassment On The Workplace, Inaccurate Portrayal of The F1 World, Inaccurate Way Of Cleaning Champagne From Clothes, Sex, Slight Dirty Talk, Mirror Sex, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Sex Between Strangers.

You sipped slowly from the flute of champagne you had managed to steal, meanwhile your boss wasn’t looking, since you had been instructed to avoid getting yourself drunk till you got the trophy in your hand, to avoid replacing the ‘drunk Kimi meme’ in the F1 world.

But it was difficult for you, an introvert, to feel at ease in a room full of different people.

A few of them were gladly ignoring you, but more were looking at you like you were some kind of freak in a costume, which was probably the best description for being one pilot of the only all-female team existing in F1.

You had grown up with the myths of Ayrton Senna and Niki Lauda, thanks to your grandfather and his the passion for fast cars and elegant ones, raising you as some kind of substitute to him, who had never been able to race, having had various problematics with his own health.

An heartattack at seventy had taken him away, just as you signed your first contract with the F2.

You had been partnered with a male pilot, and although the car wasn’t the fastest, you had managed to become much better than your partner, eventually getting yourself fired because females, in a place like F1, couldn’t raise to fame, throwing you in a depression that had brought you almost on the verge…

… but then your newest F1 stable had brought you back, giving you a car that wasn’t definitely one of the best you could have gotten but it had gotten you through a nice first season, and you had actually arrived at the sixth position in the constructors’ championship, alongside your partner…

… who, right now, didn’t look less bothered than you, at this fancy party.

But Abigail could definitely hold the curious gazes better than you.

You might have needed something more than champagne to get through a night like this.

You had begged your stable director to just bring Abigail, the social butterfly out of the two of you, but he had just insisted that ‘having two beauties on his arm would have done him and the stable more good than just one’.

And aside from the blatantly sexist part of the comment, you knew he was right.

Sponsors had been rushing to you this season because the media had focused much attention on the importance of new female figures in races, but now that the novelty was rushing off a few had decided to let you go, so you had to grab a few new ones, convincing them through either the use of your talk and your feminine charm.

‘… I had almost thought that he’d ask us to sleep with the sponsors to get them to stay’ had commented Abigail, as you both set yourself up for the night, the elegant rented dresses waiting for you on the comfortable bed of the expensive suite of the hotel ‘… it was this close to becoming an episode of ‘Law & Order: SVU’.

And now Abigail was being her usual chatty with a few sponsors fawning around her, as you tried to down the flute of champagne almost as if it was a full bottle of vodka, something that you honestly missed and stared at the expensive drink in the glass.

If only your glare could turn it in something that would give you more liquid courage.

A few of the rookies had been tried to talk with you and you had been extremely happy to have someone approach you, but soon the chat had diffused itself and all the drivers had been called back by their own director, and you had found yourself alone, again, and with annoying stares upon you.

Many of the pilots from the other stables had tried to get you in bed with them, and you knew that there were various bets going on about getting you or Abigail to finally relent your ‘haughty pretenses’, not to talk about the fact that the entire media platform and magazines had been set up on you and Abigail, waiting for any false step of yours.

You had been dubbed ‘the sole chance for feminism to raise’ and everyone was waiting for you to fall.

To prove that F1 wasn’t female territory.

So, you had been rigorously swearing off any coupling with the other drivers.

The fact that you found it already quite difficult to combine your training and the various galas you had to attend with an healthy social life, certainly did help with the whole ‘chastity promise’ thing.

And you never regretted such a choice during the race season.

The ‘no sex’ rule helped you during the competition, keeping your mind in the game, but now that the driving season was ended and you were finally enjoying your well-deserved holiday, you couldn’t help but hate thoroughly the situation you had landed yourself in, only able to rely on your hand and a few interesting toys.

But otherwise, utterly frustrated.

And yet unable to come up with a solution on such a short notice.

Dicks didn’t grow up on trees, these days.

You just bumped in them, apparently.

Because, as you were halfway through having your second drink of the night, counting on the fact that the director of your stable was halfway through a successful talk with some well-dressed older gentlemen, hence making him quite busy already and unable to check up on you, you clashed against a wall.

A wall of muscles, at a second glance.

A breathing wall of muscles, at third glance.

But you were far more interested by the fact that the bump-in had just made you spill your entire drink on your Givenchy rented dress, the one that costed more than your apartment rent, something that made a loud ‘shit’ leave your mouth and making the ‘wall of muscles’ raise his head towards you, as he noticed the stain.

And then, when you noticed that ‘wall of musclea’ had a pretty face and an even prettier body, a softer ‘shit’ left your mouth.

What a way to make an impression.

“Oh Gosh, I am sorry!” American accent, no British accent.

That was probably where Mother Nature had drawn in blessing him with all the ‘fucking handsome man’ gifts.

His handsome face was elegantly touched up by high cheekbones and feature that had something of roguish matched with elegant traits and darker colors, making him stand out as someone who wasn’t definitely a pilot or a journalist.

Which was ideal for you.

Such an refined face was matched with an elegant tailored body, the suit definitely made for him and him solely, knowing perfectly how to highlight each and every trait of a body that was obtained through attentive work, a careful one that was meant to impose itself or pump his muscles with no aim, but to give him a lean appearance of power.

That definitely worked with you.

“… oh” brain to Earth, brain to Earth, (Y/N), say something intelligent ‘… it was an accident’.

Tell that to the lady that will want the dress back.

But for now, that wasn’t your main concern.

Which was the handsome man in front of you.

But you couldn’t just hump him right there, not only because you were pretty sure that it would have been described as ‘sexual harassment’, but all the spotlight was set up on you, hence all the cameras were focused on every little small mistake you could have done, intensifying them in a way that didn’t happen with men.

You had to be perfect, but even more than that.

You had to be the male everyone thought you were, although you lacked of the attributes.

So, flirting was considered a hellish sin.

“Gosh, I am… extremely sorry” he repeated again, as his eyes shared a quick glance with yours, and you just nodded your head as if you had to confirm to him that you had heard him clearly the first time, before ducking to the restroom, hoping to be able to scrub away the stain, at least to avoid its yellowish color on the stark white of your dress.

But before you could start raising the dress off your legs, where the stain was more evident, you were followed inside by the man, and before you could utter any protest, he caught the ones in your eyes.

“I swear I am not a creeper” he raised his hands as if to reinforce this “… I just… you shouldn’t scrub on silk, it’ll just ruin the fabric, just ran the water and then wait for it to dry, some alcohol and a bit of bleach might also help, the stain will come out, with a single wash… I swear”.

You had a million questions for the stranger, unsure if you shouldn’t have already screamed at him for having entered the ladies restroom, but you just assumed that he was the first handsome guy ever to come with a cute personality.

And good domestic knowledge.

That was meant to always do something to a lady.

“… thank you” you settled on uttering, comforted by the fact that the guy turned around to leave you some privacy, but you couldn’t just let go such an opportunity, even more when you were in some kind of secluded area, and he didn’t look like the type that had a secret go-pro camera under his clothes.

Some girl that you had once met in a bathroom at one of the races had turned out to have one, as she egged on commenting some shit over Abigail.

Unluckily for her, Abigail was in the other stall and she had flushed in the noisiest way the water, before appearing with some kind of triumphant aura around her.

“… can you please stay?” ‘people will probably doubt you on your “abilities” if you come out after five minutes’ you almost wanted to utter, as a test to know if he looked just like a sex god or he fucking was, although with the way his cheeks blushed of a light red, you simply bit down on your tongue “… just to help me get the stain off, properly… you seem to know much more than me about it”.

“Things happen in college” he commented, as if it was an explanation.

What kind of parties had he been in college?

You just remembered the rush to grabbing the cheapest and most efficient alcohol.

He reached out as kindly as he could to start on the farthest part of your dress, where it wasn’t straight up skin tight, gently dabbing it with a piece of paper you had handed him, the fabric destroying itself on the dress, but the stain became a bit less prominent.

Enough to pass as some kind of enrichment the stylist had done on the dress at the last minute.

You hoped you could make the lady that had rented it to you buy this shit off too.

Because you either managed to get the stain out or get yourself a sponsor for the new year, or you’d have had to probably start living on the road, with only a few shining trophies for losers, such as the one you were supposed to grab tonight, for ‘best promising team’.

As if there was some kind of competition, between your small team and various established ones…

“… what are you doing at such a party?” you knew that conversation during this kind of thing would have gotten it to seem less sexual than it truly was, and although you were as good at small talk as you were at handling a crowd, you did your best to sound as relaxed as you could be.

But your question still sounded like one out of a police interrogation.

“Friend of a friend” it was more like meaning ‘none of your business’ but kinder, and you couldn’t deny his own right to privacy “… by the way, I do think that I should give you my name… in case you want someone to curse for the dress, I am Duncan”.

“I am (Y/N)” you were glad when no light of recognition shone in his eyes, just as his hand lightly grabbed the back of your upper thigh, to make the dress adhere perfectly to your skin and dab the stain more properly, a light shiver at the touch made you understand how truly touch-starved you had been “… and you look as out of place as me in this fucking gown”.

“Don’t tell anybody, but…” and he lightly leaned in closer to you, enough that you could feel the strong but comforting perfume of his cologne, something that smelt extremely male and yet, you couldn’t detect a trace of toxic masculinity in it “… I have never seen a single race of F1 in my life”.

Just what you needed.

“… oh tell me about it” you played coy, as his hands raised up from your legs skillfully avoided your ass, instead choosing to grip on the outer part of your hip, handling you with care but a sureness that made you want to relent the whole ‘male image’ you had created around you.

What would you have given for a night in which you didn’t have to be the one in control, constantly checking every detail!

“… neither a fan of the whole race panorama?” he asked, as his eyes trained themselves on your stomach, barely covered by the white of the dress, showing him a bit of skin behind it, exactly as the absence of your panties, a crazed decision of Abigail, who had thrown away your seamless granny pants.

‘They might be protective when we race, but these are shit’.

You knew you shouldn’t have lied to him about not belonging in the racing setting, but you just wanted to have one night in which you weren’t the prodigy, the promise, ‘the sole chance for freedom to raise’.

You just wanted to be (Y/N).

“Definitely not”.

“Brought here by a boyfriend?” now he was scanning his own ground, and he had a small break from his cleaning duties, as you caught a glimpse of that damned profile, the kind of thing you saw on expensive old coins.

He was definitely some kind of emperor in his own right.

“Nope” you mumbled, before you gave him back his own same coin “… just brought here by a friend of a friend”.

He smirked at his words being spit back at him and you smiled almost foolishly.

You even let out a soft giggle.

How fucking long had it been since you had giggled?

And done it because you honestly wanted.

And not because you were forced in front of journalists or potential sponsors.

His hands were now on the side of your chest, against the slight hill of your bra (you could have forsaken panties, but you needed that support), his hands lightly tracing the ridge of the silicone part where the bra stood attached to your skin, sweaty due to the fact that you had been wearing the whole thing for five hours, before of the event.

“… and you had an idiot spill a drink over it, in the span of an hour” the words were meant for self-deprecation, but the smile that accompanied him was utterly confident.

Had you had panties, they would have definitely hit the ground soundly in that moment.

“… it could have been worse” you mumbled, just as your eyes twinkled with secret meaning.

‘You could have been a complete twat or old enough to be my grandpa’

“… you couldn’t have known how to get out champagne stains” you joked, settling up on a more PG-13 comment, unsure of what to do, since it had been quite some time since you had last flirted, and although his hand told you a story, you weren’t exactly sure if he had gotten all the clues of the game.

He laughed so brilliantly that also a light blush joined your soft giggle.

“Gosh, that would have been awful” his tone was joking, but his eyes were onto you, as they searched some kind of confirm in yours, and you just had to lean in to sign the deal, leaning down to kiss him.

You had never been one for one-night-stands and neither for quick fucks in a restroom, but with the way he lightly gripped you, making sure to position you on top of the elegant porcelain sink, careful to avoid the water: it wouldn’t have been neither.

And you were completely swept away.

He definitely passed the ‘kiss’ test.

His hand went through your hair perfectly, but careful of the small updo you had done, his fingertips lightly scraping the baby hair on your upper neck, in a way that kept you grounded, just as his lips lightly bit onto your upper lips, leaving you wanting for more, just as he backed away with a cunning smirk.

One that spoke of that technique never failing.

And before he could perform again that cocky enchantment, you kissed him.

Releasing on him entire months of sexual frustration.

And you had to say that you surprised him, enough that you were worried that your suddenness would have scared him, but he just needed to regain the control, before his hand without any care went to mess up your updo, in a way that instead of grounding and relaxing you, made you tense up, just as his hand splayed your knees wide onto the sink to have him come up between them.

And after the passionate kiss you had been sharing, you found yourself quickly locked, with one that gripped you by the hair against the cold mirror and another one splayed on your knee

The fabric of your silk dress lightly caressed the skin of your inner thigh, right as his elegant and expensive pants did the same with your core, making you feel that you shouldn’t have seriously worried about the ‘five minutes thing’, or at least you hoped.

But the package seemed fucking good.

“… so, would you like to have a bit more of help?” the way he pronounced the word ‘help’ sounded downright sinful and how could a girl deny him, as your own hands moved to gently tap on his sharp cheeks, the scratchiness of a cleanly shaved beard making you feel like this was all real.

“Just don’t get my dress dirty” it was a whisper, but your eyes played with the dominance you wanted to relent to him, and he just looked intrigued.

“Then spread your legs properly, little one” and as if under a spell they opened properly and let him adjust himself against them as his hands lightly raised up to collect the dress away from your legs, stopping right up on your hips and leaving a bit of dress to cover you, as if he had to leave you some modesty “… good girl”.

You purred at that, leaning in the light petting of his grip having become less pronounced as a grip and more a caress.

“…  I saw you out there in the crowd and I wanted to buy you a drink, because you looked at unease as me, I thought that you could use that” he commented as his face lightly moved down to the crook of your neck, his nose making a teasing trail down your profile, just as his beard lightly scratched your skin, making it redden simply for his lips, before he covered it of purplish bruises “… I thought I had done the worst thing ever since with pouring a drink over you”.

“… couldn’t stay mad when you fucking looked like a sex god” you muttered unable to deny the truth, your body arching right against his as his hands, gently dragged he strap of your dress down your shoulders, revealing the awful skin-like bra, but he just seemed focused on your collarbones, his hand working slowly to ease the bra away from you, eventually dropping it onto the small tissues box over both of your heads, so it wouldn’t get on the ground.

An attentive gesture, exactly as the way he gripped tightly your breast, making sure that your nipples were lightly caressed by his thumb, right as he bit down on the softer flesh of your neck.

“I am glad that my good looks were of some use” he joked, and gently looked up at you “… and let me tell you, I have a tongue that will make you forget all about my clumsiness”.

“I do think that I deserve an apology” you muttered, as your eyes met again, your lashes cornering perfectly your hazy eyes, breathy and soft “… a vocal apology”.

And he simply smirked down at you, falling on his knees with a sound thud, as you pushed yourself further down the sink you were on, till you felt the painful dig of the faucet in your back, enough to make you moan in protest, but soon the look of wonder on his face as he unveiled the secret underneath your dress was definitely a relief against the uncomfortable position.

“… didn’t know that you were one of those girls that go without panties” he pushed a knee up on you to spread you further to him, as he took in the proper masterpiece that had been revealed to him down there, and his kisses moved up on your inner thigh “… look like the pretty girl turned out to be a bad bad girl, no wonder I am about to fuck you like a fucking bitch in heat in a restroom”.

And you blushed at the profane words.

But it was just more endearing for you as he pushed himself to properly settle against the nest between your legs, already oozing soft milk and sweet honey, his lips lightly pushing against your own, as he dragged the same beard you had felt on your cheeks against your cunt, the sensation making you hiss, right as again your lips came to soothe your ache.

The plumpness of his lips made you unable to stop yourself from moaning out loud, your eyes closing just as he delivered a slap to your thigh, a silent warning to keep your eyes trained on him and you did, as his lips sucked your softest piece in his mouth.

His tongue was instead a blessing inside of you and this time you were the one delving a bit of pain to him, as you grabbed strongly his hair, some kind of relief to keep you grounded as your body became like a cloud, weighted down just by the tension in your whole muscles.

“Fuck, you do know how to have fun” he mumbled tightly, as he released your cunt, something that made you protest loudly “… when was the last time somebody fucked you this good, (Y/N)”.

And before you could properly reply, his finger slipped inside you, making you hiss out at the feeling of being full, so unlike the stretch of your own fingers, so slight that now you needed a minute to calm yourself from everything, as you waited to answer his reply.

And he gave you a moment to breath, before his finger lightly probed further, reaching inside with a wayward gesture that made you choke up on your own words, as your back arched against the mirror and the hand that wasn’t in his hair gripped so tightly the sink that you were sure you had left an acrylic nail there.

“… a long time for sure” he smirked so devilishly that it broke you thoroughly.

And then his tongue matched his finger and before you knew it your floating was interrupted by your skyrocketing to the ground in a pleasurable trail that brought you back to all the earthly pleasure you could ask for, leaving you numb and tensed, your eyes rolling back as you lost sight of what was going on with you.

And then as you regained, your legs were slack over Duncan’s sides, his lips teasing again the skin of your neck, but no intention to punish you with any pain or tease you, instead there was a desperate soothing in his gestures, as you slowly came back to reality.

Fuck, you honestly should do this more.

Sadly, half of the guys that wanted a hook-up wouldn’t have ever done anything like what Duncan just did with you.

And would probably last five minutes, indeed.

“… was that enough of an apology?” he asked as soon as he saw that you had regained some semblance of calmness.

“Definitely yes” not that you could reply with much more.

Your fingers spoke louder as they went to his belt, undoing it with a bit of problem since you were slightly trembling, but he tried his best to let you do it, but before you could lower the pants, he gently grabbed your hands, something soft in his eyes, as he made you look up at him.

“We don’t have to do this…”.

“Oh, c’mon…” you mumbled, but his question was sincere and you couldn’t help but blush lightly “… I am pretty sure I want to do this”.

He mumbled softly, as he grabbed something from his back pocket, as you lightly lowered pants and boxers in one move,

And you weren’t disappointed,

He was definitely a big guy.

Larger than longer, with a light curve that made you painfully ache for having him inside of you, already half-hard, and your hand gently moved up and down on him, in a gentle foreplay that was completely uninterested about the knocking on the door, eventually dissipating in curses.

“… gotta be quiet baby” he commented, as he pushed his wallet on the side of the sink, getting a condom out of it, something for which you were thankful, because although you were on birth control, he was a complete stranger to you, and although the thrill of it just made it all just more daring, you would have preferred avoiding anything that might have given you an awful month “… I don’t know if you will, since I’ll make you feel fucking good”.

You just smirked at him, with a smile that told him ‘I can take it, sweetheart’.

And he just silenced it with pushing himself inside of you.

The penetration gave you an unpleasant stretch, and you needed a minute, as your whole body shifted against him, completely pushing himself in your arms, and to his credit he didn’t do much more than steady you, as he gave you the time to adjust yourself on him, till your whole body relaxed but your own insides.

Gripping him tighter.

Goading him closer and deeper.

And he gently set up a slow rhythm, making you feel each inch of him, till you were hypnotized with the way his hips moved against you, his upper body lightly stroking your clit, as wetness oozed down him, lubing him up, as he took up more speed and you found your back pushed against the mirror with such intensity that you were sure it would have been broken soon.

But you couldn’t give a fuck.

He gently pushed you in another position turning you around, so that you could face the mirror, meanwhile he took you from behind, the angle being deeper and the slight curve of his cock hitting the perfect spot.

And the fact that you could see yourself being fucked by him was only a bonus.

The way his face became so deformed by pleasure gave it all some kind of dreamish state, as the pleasure intensified desperately and you were there just on the right spot, but not enough stimulation was there for you, till he brought a finger in your mouth, and you sucked him inside, looking at the wanton expression on your face, before you closed your eyes.

And pleasure overtook you.

It didn’t take him too much time for him to finish alongside you, as his hand lightly went in your hair again, pushing as a way to grip on reality for a last time and your muscles spasmed around you, desperately and tightly in a way that almost made you wonder how it would have felt to have his seed on you.

And not in a plastic wrapper.

But for now that was all you could do.

Your legs trembled but he steadied you, something that definitely gave him more credit than you thought, expecting him to simply tug himself back in and disappear, maybe stand a bit next to you, to wash himself, but to his credit he gently  handled you better, till you were again seated against the sink, the facet now digging painfully in you.

But you were definitely sore in more pleasurable places.

He gently got you back in your dress, adjusting your bra on your sweaty skin, too sensitive for the powerful orgasms you had felt, his silken touch making goosebumps appear on your skin, as your nipples lightly peaked and he couldn’t stop himself from gently sucking one after the other in his mouth, as you moaned almost as a protest.

“Don’t start something you won’t finish” you warned him, as his eyes twinkled with teasing happiness.

“… I would… but I do think that people need this restroom” and he was right, since you felt somebody halfway through calling the security and you shouted out calmly a soft ‘sorry, I just stained my dress and I am trying to get the stain away’ “… but if you want, I can… leave you my number, for more fun…”.

Which you were tempted to take, honestly.

He was handsome, he had a good dick game and he was definitely respectful of boundaries.

But you knew these things always got too complex for you.

First of all because had you given him your number, you would have to admit the truth and secondly as much as you were free right now a partner that was repeated a few more times was dangerous, because feelings might be developed.

“… I…” but how could you let down a guy like this.

“… you aren’t the type” a sad smile appeared on the man’s face, no hard feelings for sure, but definitely uncomfortable at your rejection and you couldn’t help but simply nod “… got it, well it was fun till it lasted”.

And to his merit he didn’t do anything that might have been rough against you, choosing to instead smile politely as he cleaned himself a bit, before he exited with one last look at you, as if to check if you had changed your mind, but you simply stood painfully uncomfortable off the sink as you dabbed a bit more the stain.

“… thank you for the suggestion and…” ‘…the fucking amazing sex’.

“You are welcome”.

And with that he disappeared from the restroom, as you thought he’d disappear from your life.

The only trace of him was the faint stain on your dress and the slight blush on your cheeks as you joined Abigail again.

‘… somebody got lucky’ she simply muttered, as she twirled her glass, another one in your hands, as your eyes searched for Duncan, he joined a few of the investors, but your eyes diverted immediately from that sight, worried the connection might be seen and questioned ‘… at least one of us got laid tonight’.

You simply elbowed her, as you smiled lovingly at the sponsors.

But you definitely felt rebirthed after the restroom session.

Maybe you were wrong about not seeing him again.

Not that you hadn’t to wait much to meet him again.

That morning you had been asked to take part at a reunion of the stable, alongside a few sponsors that you had found at the latest event, it was a way to get them to know the ‘talents’ they’d fund, and as you expected old and older people to approach you, you were surprised to find Duncan standing there.

Hadn’t he been a complete stranger to the F1 platform?

And as your grew nervous and more nervous, your stable director came up to you and Abigail, slinging an arm over you both as he moved to get you and present you to him, making you blush as much as he did, but he was extremely professional.

You couldn’t, when you discovered he was your newest sponsor.

‘Girls let me introduce to you both our latest sponsor’ your boss commented softly ‘Duncan Shepherd’.

And he was Duncan fucking Shepherd.

The heir to the Shepherd foundation.

What the fuck had you done?

---

Duncan Shepherd (I don’t really have a taglist anymore, so if you are interested on being there for Michael do let me know, and I’ll add you, if I ever think about writing something for him again!):

@blakewaterxx​, @melodylangdon, @avocodys​, @ahsbitch​, @littlegirlsdontplaynice​, @accio-rogers​

[80sfern]

xavier plympton

credit: alexademiesus ‬on twitter

[casikototmblr]

Corrupted Lies - Part 2.

Summary: Reader introduces herself to the company in a spontaneous meeting, only to find out that Duncan is their anointed secretary.

A/N: How the tables have turned, lol. I’m sorry for posting this a day late. Anywho, enjoy part 2!

Y/L/N - Your Last Name.

Word count: 1,278.

Tags: @langdonsvendetta @rocketgirl2410​ 

You examined the black pleated dress in the tall, clean mirror which was situated along the back wall of the empty, cold lift. Your mind raced with nervous thoughts as you adjusted the big buckle of the belt that hugged your tiny waist before you clasped your clammy hands together behind your back as you impatiently waited to reach the floor you needed, your mind stopped with the nervous thoughts and instead went back to the day of your father’s funeral, to the moment where you met Duncan. 

Your mind had been replaying the same moment for the past couple of days, especially at night and now it was doing it again; but this time it paid more attention to his features: his soft, dishevelled curls, his piercing blue eyes, the veins on his hands that were visible -  you hadn’t been able to get him off your mind since the funeral and you’d only talked to the guy for a few minutes. What would happen if you ran into him again?

Even though you knew the vast majority of people who had worked for your father, you couldn’t help but feel nervous; the people who were now working for you were committed and enthusiastic people and the last thing you wanted to do was make them question your ability to run a successful, profitable company. You felt it was crucial for this impromptu meeting to go nicely if you wanted to make a good impression and reassure your employees.

You finally reached the floor you needed, the ping from the lift snapped you back to reality. You then waited calmly for the sleek, silver door of the lift to open before you promptly sauntered out of the lift and into the large, pristine reception area. The reception was immaculate, equipped with four white-leather sofas and a sleek, glass reception area with a beautiful woman sat behind.

The tanned, beautiful woman noticed your presence as she looked up from the illuminating screen of the black laptop, the sounds of her long fingers click-clacking on the keyboard was no longer. The tall woman swiftly rose from her chair, revealing her striped, short-sleeved dress before she walked around to the front of the desk, a kind smile planted on her face as she pointed you in the direction of the glass board-room. 

You flashed a small smile to the woman before you walked in the direction of the room, the faces of trusted people became clearer and clearer the closer you came to the glass of the boardroom. The second you walked into the boardroom, you felt the eyes of your fellow peers attached to you as they followed your transition from the door to the front of the room, towering over the end of the sleek, black table.

"Hello everyone, I'm y/n y/l/n...And I'm the new owner of this company." You spoke firmly as you introduced yourself to the focused people who occupied the copper-coloured, elegant chairs that were seated in front of you. Their eyes scanned you as they worked their way from the bottom of your body, beginning with your elegant heels that hugged your small feet snugly and ending with your attentive but kind eyes that moved from face to face.

"Some of you I already know and some of you I don't know, but I hope to get to know you all more." You added in the same firm voice from before as you grouped your fingers behind your arched, dressed back before you braided your gentle fingers together. 

"Will anything be changing? Are you going to fire some of us?" A person would croak out from the back with their arm raised as you noticed them. You unclasped your small hands from behind your back and placed them by the sides of your petite frame.

"Of course not! If you were loyal to my father, then that means you're loyal to me too." You explained to the person as you attempted to reassure them the best you possibly could whilst you flashed them a kind smile. They agreed to what you had said as their body relaxed into their chair slightly; the worried expression that covered their face before was now gone, clearly at ease by what you had just said. 

"Everyone will be in the same positions within the company, no changes will be made to the staffing, I can reassure you." You announced boldly to the apprehensive faces in the warm room in a successful attempt to reassure those people. 

"That's all I wanted to say, you can leave now!" You spoke softly to your employees as they began to rise slowly from their chairs, speaking their goodbyes to you as they left the room in a single file until there was one person left in the room. You examined the person and immediately recognised the copper-coloured curls, the same blue eyes that felt like they could pierce through you and the same small markings of stubble that marked his sculptured jawline. 

It was Duncan...

You had no idea that he had worked for your father, you were rather sure you had never seen him before on past visits to your father's company. Maybe he was a new addition to the company before your father's untimely death?...

"Since positions aren't changing  I should introduce myself," Duncan spoke invitingly as he rose slowly out of his plush chair at the table and began to make his way over to where you were standing. "I'm Duncan, your secretary now it seems." He continued as he finally reached where you were standing, whilst he placed a large hand in front of you; encouraging you to shake it. 

"Well then, it's rather nice to meet you, Duncan." You responded in a soft tone with a slight chuckle as you shook his rough hand, the skin-to-skin contact gave you a feeling in your hand of what felt like electricity - you were quick to notice this.

"Likewise. Anyway, I have secretary stuff to do but if you need me, my office is just across the way from yours." He responded to you as you released the grip you had on his calloused hand, Duncan swiftly placed his now released hand by the side of his large frame. 

"No problem and alright, I'll keep that in mind!" You promptly retorted as he shot you a smirk - your stomach feeling fluttery at the smirk -  before he walked out of the glass boardroom your eyes watched him intently as he strolled down the corridor of private office doors.

There was just something about being in the presence of Duncan that felt intoxicating - if that was the right word to use. You had never quite felt anything like that before but you knew Duncan was a ladies' man for sure, his reputation proceeded him and you barely knew the guy. It was there and then that you made a promise to yourself: not to let anything happen between you and Duncan, that the only relationship you'd have with Duncan would be that of a professional one but even you began to question that within a couple of minutes of making the promise. Maybe you were beginning to fall a tiny bit for him...fuck. 

[syven-siren]

Taste Test

Summary: The Reader gets bored with Duncan’s photo/video obsession and finds a way to entice him. (Duncan Shepherd x Female!Reader)

“Y/N, why don’t you get down and twirl for daddy? Show me that pretty outfit you’re wearing?”

You pout, staring at the camera lens unamused. It isn’t that you dislike posing for him but every time Duncan buys you a new set of lingerie, he becomes insatiable. He has to take pictures from every angle; a way to get him through his long business trips he says. One night recently, your irritation came to a boiling point. So much so that after you had received your punishment, you both had a serious conversation about alternatives to Duncan’s rather large camera roll of you on his private cell. Instead, opting to switch to video when you are presented with a new gift.

Still, here you sit with your stockinged legs swinging back and forth off the countertop. He wants the perfect shot for the video when all you want is for him to rip your fucking clothes off and take you over the counter.

“I’m bored of this.” You roll your eyes, playing with the garter strap holding your sheer thigh highs up.

“(Y/N), stop being a brat.”

Glancing up, you notice Duncan’s jaw is clenched in annoyance. He might be upset now but your defiance always makes for great foreplay. A wicked little plan develops in the back of your mind, something that will get you both worked up. Sliding back on the countertop, you bring your knees up, exposing your lace-covered core to him and the camera.

Your fingers run along the trim of your bra, sliding over your stomach and straight to slick soaked panties. A shiver runs down your spine as Duncan’s gaze follows your hand. He looks as if he wants to say something but chooses to stay silent, instead of watching as you massage your clit. Needing more, you push the fabric aside and slip two fingers into your entrance.

Duncan’s grip on the phone falters but he’s quick to readjust and continue recording your provocative display. Pinching one of your nipples, you become a moaning mess almost forgetting that he’s even there. Your eyes close as you finger yourself, getting lost in the pleasure. Your toes curl as your orgasm looms over you. Biting your lip, you try to hold it off, wanting him to be the one to help you cum. The squelch coming from between your legs is obscene as your wetness coats your fingers.

You make eye contact with Duncan as you take them out of your pussy. Bringing them to your lips, you take a small lick, mewling for extra emphasis.

“Mmm. Daddy, do you want to taste?” You offer your fingers to him, hoping it’s enough temptation. Without hesitation, Duncan takes your fingers in his mouth, his tongue twirling around them before sucking them clean. His low groans cause your face to heat up even more than it already is.  

“Do I taste good?”

“Yes. So good that I think I need more,” with a devilish smirk, he answers your question and pushes you to lean back. His scruff tickles your inner thighs as he dips his head in-between your legs, going straight to the source of your wetness. Looking up, he turns the phone over to you,  “Record this baby so we can both watch how fucking sexy you are when you’re cumming because of me.”

A/N: This is my first Duncan drabble so it might suck lol hopefully it doesn’t 🙈 Also, the gif is not mine; credit belongs to @hotlinesmiami 

[shenevertricks1831]

GET OUT

Author Note- **So originally last month I posted this on my old blog, but that one had so many bugs (I couldn't message, my tags never worked) so no one ever saw it :( So now with my new account I'm posting it again. My first writing in years, so sorry if it's trash. I've been thinking alot lately and I wanna try my hand at writing again..so if you have any headcannon requests or blurb requests please send me an ask :) also this is all in my phone since I have no working computer at the moment, so I apologize for any grammatical errors or otherwise. Thanks for reading please send me some ideas or prompts, I've always want to try headcanons so that could be fun! I love you all!!

Being 7 months pregnant with the next heir to the Shepherd family should have been fairly easy. You and Duncan had gotten engaged during a trip to Italy last year, but the wedding was put on hault when your soon to be mother in law thought she spotted a bump during a dress fitting. Like many things in life Annette was right about this as well. She would finally be a grandmother, and you and Duncan would be parents. Despite what some may think Annette was thrilled, she had always like you and learning you were now carrying her grandchild only heightened her excitement. Duncan was also excited, in the beginning, but it seemed as time went on he became more distant. Was he worried of being a parent? Fearful of being an awful father after years of have no positive male figures in his life? Or was it you, was it the weight gain? Lack of a sexual appetite? Mood swings? Lack of energy? You had no idea, until you hear his phone vibrate on the coffee table.

You had been sitting on the plush couch in the highrise appartment you and Duncan had shared for 3 years. Some Netflix show played as background sound while you read your book. Duncan had gone to shower, he had a buisness dinner to attend and after an awful bout of sickness earlier in the day he insisted you stay home. You had been feeling better, until his phone vibrated on the coffee table. Assuming it was Annette you reached for his phone and were hit with a wave a nausea no pregnancy could provide.

Cecile: "Can't wait to see you later!😮🍑🍆❤"

Attempting to compose yourself you called the one person you could think to before you broke down.

Storming into your shared master bath you threw open the shower door. "Woah, honey whats wrong?" Duncan jumped back trying to sheild himself from the cool breeze. You thrust your arm forward, Duncan's phone in hand. "What the fuck is this?" Trying to keep calm was not going well as you felt yourself grinding your teeth. "I don't know," Duncan tried to feign innocence, "wrong number?" "Oh really? Duncan do you think I'm an idiot?" You voice begin rising, "A whole tread of wrong number messages, that you've replied to.." You scrolled through the messages while talking, "Oh and whats this? A dick pic? Oh ya that's definitely you.." "Babe," Duncan quietly tried to reach forward in an attempt to calm you. "Do NOT call me BABE!" You scream and with full force threw Duncan's phone into the shower watching it shatter at his feet. With the breaking of the phone something in you broke as well. A flood of tears finally came crashing down your face. With a choked sob you spoke again. "Get out. Get out of my house." At this point Duncan had shut off the water and had a towel wrapped around himself. "Y/N, what are you talking about I can't just leave, it's my house. Its in my name." You forced out a fake laugh. "You know Duncan, it's actually not under your name. It's actually under your mom's, and you know me and Annette just had the best little talk." She watched as Duncan's face began to pale. "Duncan please get your things and leave before I need to call security and have you escorted out. And don't bother with you key, Annette's getting the locks changed." "Y/N, no, please. I'm sorry okay, I'm sorry. " Tears began to seep from Duncan's eyes and he pleaded with you. "I can't live without you. Please we have a baby coming, don't punish our child for my mistake." "I'm not punishing our child, if you were so worried about that maybe you should have kept your dick in your pants. Now please go." You crossed your arms and wandered to the livingroom window. Duncan followed you still pleading. "What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go, Y/N?" "I don't know Duncan, why don't you stay with Cecile? Just please get the fuck out of my house!" You didn't look at him. You were mentally and physically drained. Duncan wandered away to clothe himself and pack a suitcase. As he came back into to the living room and looked at you, he didn't know what to say. What could he say? Nothing could fix what he'd done, so at that moment he said nothing. He just turned and left, shutting their appartment door behind him. Once you heard the door shut, you broke down. Your body slumped to the floor and you sobbed. Body wreaking, chest pinching, gasping for air sobs. You stayed their, no engery or will to move, until finally your crys lulled you to sleep on the living room floor.

Since this my first Cody Character work, I'm gonna tag a couple of people I love and/or who's work I love as well 🖤 @sojournmichael @leatherduncan @langdxn @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @amethyst-v @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc

Credit to GIF owner, not my GIF

[jims-wave]

Come Home

Summary: Duncan had been at work out of the state - he missed Christmas and possibly might be missing NYE. // does have Duncans POV as well..

Warnings: none

PSA: my first fic so please no hate

“The sky looks different here without you” your voice dropped softly as you stared into the sunset

“I can’t wait to be home with you - I miss you love” Duncan’s voice sparkled through the phone - his voice always gave you this warm feeling within you.

“you’ll be home for new years right?” you asked - deep in your gut you knew Duncan wouldn’t be able to make it home in time

there was a silent pause - “love, about that, I’ve been asked to stay a few days longer to close the deal - I should be home on January 3rd.”

your heart dropped - you hadn’t seen Duncan in almost 2 weeks, all you wanted to do was see him and be with him - “you said you’d be home on December 29th”

“I know and I’m sorry love - I can’t miss out on this, it’s going to be huge-“

you couldn’t even focus you were so upset - “I even pushed Christmas back - just so we could share Christmas together..” you choked out - tears began to pool in your eyes as you turned to look at a fully lit Christmas tree with presents underneath.

“y/n - I’m so sorry”

“i-i gotta go, Duncan, goodbye” you hung up the phone without waiting for Duncan to respond - you tossed your phone aside and sat there in a dazed state.

“I need sleep.” you whispered to yourself as tears started to pool in your eyes - you grabbed a cushion and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, you wrapped yourself up and laid on your side - your eyes felt heavy as they closed slowly.

Duncans POV;

“fuck” Duncan yelled as he threw his phone onto the hotel bed - “if only she knew how much I wanted to come home”

Duncan took a seat on the edge of the bed and ran his hands through his hair - he wanted to go home, he just wanted to be with y/n.

within seconds Duncan got up off the bed and packed his suit case - he didn’t fold any clothes, he just threw them all in without a second thought.

once, Duncan, had his belongs packed he grabbed his cell phone and arranged for a private jet - after his jet was planned out he called for a taxi to bring him to the airport.

‘goodnight darling, I love you’ - Duncan texted you before shutting off his phone, he wanted to surprise you.

when Duncan arrived at the airport his private jet was waiting for him - he was quickly rushed through customs and security.

“Welcome, Mr. Shepherd” the flight attendant smiled - “we should be arriving in DC within 4 hours.”

“perfect” Duncan groaned - he was overly tired but still upset with himself.

Duncan took a seat near the back of the jet and leaned the seat far back - “please wake me when we arrive.”

the flight attendant nodded and handed Duncan a blanket.

the flight attendant tapped Duncan on the shoulder - “Mr. Shepherd, we have landed in Dc, and your taxi is here for you” her voice was soft

Duncans eyes slowly opened - it was still pitch black out - Duncan stretched his legs out and slowly stood up. he slowly walked down the stairs of the private jet to where his cab was waiting-

“good evening Mr. Shepherd - going home?”

“yes - I miss my girl”

the driver nodded and started to drive towards your home.

what felt like hours of driving Duncan finally arrived home, it was 6am - almost time for y/n to wake up. Duncan walked up the front steps - he quietly unlocked the door, when he stepped inside he placed his bags down and slipped his shoes off.

Duncan inhaled deeply - he missed the smell of vanilla and coco.

“y/n” Duncan called out softly - he could hear your soft snores - “baby?”

Duncan walked towards the living room to find you curled up on the couch - he sat next to you and caressed your cheek - you looked so angelic.

[myfavouritelunatic]

I was tagged by both @helenvader and @pursuitseternal ❤️ thank you so much! 🥰

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, do not be shy and share anyway. ❤

So some of this will definitely be from things I haven’t published, or maybe even unfinished projects. Let’s see what the archives cough up...

1. Talk of the elf and the low man's arrival in Númenor had been rampant. (from The Blacksmith)

2. As I entered the dungeon to complete my usual cleaning duties, the first thing I noticed was that I was not alone as I had been the night before. (from the untitled cell fic)

3.  “Fighting at your side I... I felt... if I could just hold onto that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being then I...” Halbrand let his voice trail off, suddenly afraid of how Galadriel would react if he finished his words. (from I Felt It Too)

4. Galadriel gazed longingly at the silver ring upon her finger. (part one of the Saurondriel companion pieces, which I’m now calling Two Rings)

5. There was only one being the dark lord’s mind was concerned with. (part two of the Saurondriel companion pieces, which I’m now calling Two Rings)

6. Galadriel wears two faces. (from an untitled WIP)

7. The sunrise woke you, it’s orange beams flowing through your window, bathing the room in early morning light. (from Mark Me, a Michael Langdon x Female Reader one shot)

8. You heard the door slam, jolting you out of your melancholic stupor. (from Your Strength, a Duncan Shepherd x Female Reader one shot)

9. The tick tick ticking of the clock. (from an unpublished and untitled Llewyn Davis x Female Reader one shot)

10. Darkness... an abyss... neverending... Steven... Marc... Jake... falling in... and pulling you down with them... (from Your Knight, an unpublished Moon Knight system x Female Reader one shot - which I COMPLETELY FORGOT I had written, and I might just publish it now 😂)

Tagging, with no pressure whatsoever: @honeyfarts666  @gil-galadhwen @nenyabusiness @lettalady @maeve-curry-writes @vellichormybeloved @bad-surprise @formerlyir @haladriel and anyone else who wants in! ❤️

[eclipsedpascal]

Vile Intentions

60s!Older!Duncan Shepherd x Female Reader

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.

●●●●●●●●

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.

●●●●●●●●

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:)

[blakescoven]

Undress Rehearsal (Duncan Shepherd x fem!Reader)

Summary: You got a fashion degree and moved to DC to work as stylist assistant. Unexpectedly you meet a familiar face during a meeting and it seems there’s a spark between you two...but things may take a wrong turn.

A/N: Hey lovelies!! This is my first fic EVER, so be nice! Also, forgive any grammar mistake (English isn’t my first language). Since the ending is kinda open, I guess I could write a PART 2. I’m so happy to finally be able to post this one-shot, even though it sucks! I’d appreciate every comment/reblog/DM about it and about how I could actually improve my writing. This is a sort of experiment! I’m still trying to figure out “my style”. Oh and this is important: bold type means flashback, italics are Y/N’s thoughts and // means a few days passed! ENJOY and thank you for reading! I love you.

Warnings: mean!Duncan (just a little), making out and veeery light NSFW, plot!twist, lol I think that’s enough(?)

Word count: 6.1K

moodboard by the talented @hecohansen31​

You were late again. It happened twice this week. But how could that happen? You had always been a punctual and reliable person, at night you ensured that the alarm was correctly set and you never went to bed too late, afraid to not being able to wake up the morning after. So how could it be possible? Maybe because of your jetlag, but after almost a month, well, this had become a really bad excuse. Then perhaps, the frenetic pace was already affecting you that much, making you too tired to hurry up and get ready. This couldn’t happen again; you were jeopardizing your new dream job because of this straggler behavior. While you were running along the streets of Washington DC, those were your recurring thoughts. Your wheezing and the speeded-up heartbeats, pounding in your hears, were drowning out any deafening noise coming from cars and traffic, which always filled the city driveways.

From the early hours of the day, the avenues were swarming with people going to their office, each of them withdrawn into oneself, busy minding their own business with their smartphones, bringing takeaway breakfast on the other hand. You were way too anxious and distracted from running breathlessly; you had already bumped into three stupid human beings, slowly strolling down the sidewalk like damn sloths. Every single step was followed by a quick glance at your cellphone screen, checking the time and ensuring there was no missed call of your boss.

If you knew anything in this world, it was that you had to take this job seriously, dealing with the fact that your exhausting dues would have allowed your eager ass to work your way up and finally become a fashion designer. So, you didn’t expect any great satisfaction to come very soon. And starting from the bottom was really tough. After years of studying and a well-deserved university degree, you were prepared for whatever the future might have brought. Despite that, you didn’t expect at all to end up in DC, working as a stylist assistant. Sure, this would have opened the door to your real dream job, be part of the style department, designing collections for a luxury brand. You had tried your luck moving to New York, but you ended up broke, with no savings left and no available job opening. For this reason, you decided to take that chance here. You hadn’t made any progress till now though. You were new, yes, but your tasks and assignments were hardly restricted to bring coffee or running around the Capital with tons of garment bags for upcoming fittings.

Finally, after that insane 3km rush, without even stopping for a second - no, you couldn’t afford an Uber ride every time -, you arrived. Your feet hurt like hell, your cheeks covered with scarlet shades like the worst of sunburns and your breath coming in short gasps…and your hair, oh dear Lord, it was a mess. You were sure you were also sweating. Luckily, Richard, your boss, was quite nice to you and somewhat tolerant; he was sincerely impressed by all your efforts, skills and abilities, so much that he wasn’t utterly certain what you were doing there.

Five minutes past the established hour and, thank God, the client hadn’t arrived yet. You didn’t have much information or details about that meeting. You only knew that you had to help during a fitting for a client, extremely influential on the political scene. He needed a few new looks and outfits for public appearances, interviews, and fundraising events. Of course, you assumed he would have been an old middle-aged white man, with too much money to count and eager for power.

Mr moneybags is getting late tho. Too busy making grands? you thought.

Meanwhile, you were trying to look more presentable, also to not risk damaging the brand reputation.

“Y/N?”

Your calves burned and, in that moment, you thought that bringing extra sneakers would have been a good idea.

“Y/N?!”

Since the client hadn’t arrived yet, maybe you could sit down and rest for a minute on that super comfy booth near the mirror…

“Y/N!!!! HELLOO!!!” Your train of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by your boss’ yells, which suddenly caught your attention.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, I zoned out! Forgive me, what can I do for you?”

The man, a healthy and elegant 40ish brunette, looked at you concerned “Y/N I know it’s hard to settle down, but I need you to be 100% focused today. The man who’s coming is a big deal for us, he’s a powerful figure in Washington politics! He has recently taken her mother’s place as CEO of the family company. So, I want us to make a good impression!” after saying that, he looked at you from head to toe, a bit baffled.

“So…” he continued “…I need you to – in that moment you really hoped you were about to receive a major task, finally a turning point – ..to run to the bar across the street and buy some coffee, and come back quickly!” All your expectations fell apart in a sea of disappointment. “Hurry up!”

You put on a forced smile and went straight to the exit.

After having waited in line for centuries, you figured that probably the client had to have arrived, and therefore, just as you had started your day, you came back running as fast as you could, to save time.

You were holding the coffee cups in your left hand, while you were struggling to turn off your phone, which had started ringing. Opening the glass door with your hip, you were still trying to silence the ringtone, this, without even minding where put your feet up. Ugh, mom, stop calling me...always the worst timing! you screamed in your own mind, frowning. Before you could slow down your steps, one of your heels didn’t grip well the lacquered floor, making you stumble and trip. A sudden change in your balance and you couldn’t avoid slipping forward, causing the not-so-angelic flying of coffee directly on the special guest of the situation.

Damn it.

And to make matters worse, you fell to the ground, cursing the day you were born. Hell no, it can’t have really happened to me. You had just made a complete ass of yourself. You would have rather sink below the waves into the oblivion.

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT I-I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know h-how it happened!” you were apologizing, still keeping your eyes fixed on the once-full cups rolling down the parquet, next to your badly chipped mobile touchscreen.

“The floor must be slippery…please let me make it up to you, I ca- ” you stopped all of a sudden when you lifted your gaze, for the first time since you had stepped in. Standing in front of you there was the most attractive man you’d ever seen. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you, like two burning flames almost forming deep holes in your soul.

It’s hot in here or it’s just me?

He was tall and his toned arms were easily visible through the once-white shirt. Now that expensive fashion piece was all covered by a huge stain of hot coffee. And it was your fault. You were speechless. Your attention all focused on the man’s features. Your gaze was busy running down those perfect shaped cheekbones and the sharp jawline. Oh boy, gods’ gift indeed.

Oddly familiar to you though.

You clearly remained to stare for too long to not be noticed, because the man himself broke the silence.

“Uhm, don’t worry” he seemed taken aback for a second “I’ll send it to the cleaners or I’ll throw it away, I don’t care” he said, immediately composing himself, while carefully unbuttoning the ruined shirt, with those long fingers... You were blushing. His low soothing voice sent shivers down your spine. But his tone was plain, no apparent emotion, he seemed almost indifferent, maybe even a little annoyed. Ah, pompous ass.

Your attention was caught by your boss, who, with a worried voice, while pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, proposed him to choose another shirt among the others and take it as an apology gift. The man accepted, nodding with a crooked smile and with smug remarks about the needlessness of gifts for a man as rich as him.

Cocky asshole! You mused, with a roll of her eyes.

Anxious to change the subject, Richard, started the introductions. “Mr Shepherd, she is my smart – but clearly clumsy – assistant, Y/N” at that very moment that name awoke the memories in your mind.

No. It can’t be true.

“Well, nice to meet you” he remarked “Y/N”, repeating your name like he was tasting it on his own tongue “..or so.” he added, with a stupid smug grin on his breathtaking face. When they shook hands, you felt a sort of jolt and realized you had been holding your breath all this time. You remained silent.

That was the same man you met 6 months ago on the flight you took to go to New York, when you moved for the first time. It was him the influential man of the meeting.

Duncan-fucking-Shepherd.

//

Duncan. This name was the only thing in your mind right now, while you were lying on the couch, in your little apartment, with a glass of wine loosely resting on your lower lip. Oh my God, did he recognize me? Did he figure out it was me? How had he called me that day? Oh, his angel, right. Fuck.

Your head hurt, but you couldn’t help but keep on repeat your two first meetings again and again in your mind. The Duncan Shepherd from today was completely different, compared to the man you had encountered on that plane.

He hadn’t talked about himself very much, just spilled that he was a businessman traveling for work. You had immediately noticed how mature he was to be in his late 20ish. And incredibly handsome. And charming. And seductive.

Ok, stop.

You still couldn’t understand why you. Among all the attractive available women he could easily have, during all the time of the flight, he had been flirting with you. You. He made you feel sexy, desirable and safe, after a very long time.

It was the first class. You were there because of a lucky misunderstanding. While the plane was taking off, you two had a moment, since he saw you panicking. You had started talking for real only two hours after having left Milan. The conversation started casually, then developed into a flirty game. Little did you knew that a few hours later, you would eventually find yourselves making out so much intensely, whilst the rest of the passengers was sleeping with lights off. This wasn’t like you; you were strangers after all. Damn, you only knew his first name. But you couldn’t help your crazy attraction towards him. A sort of electricity, a particular connection that you had never felt with anybody else in your life.

You were staring off into space, completely lost in your inner thoughts, while biting hard your lip and fidgeting with the hem of your oversize t-shirt. You nervously swallowed and closed your eyes. Your hand began to move from the fabric and wander over your bare legs, brushing them with your fingertips. Throwing back your head and swallowing again, you frowned and sighed. You couldn’t make those thoughts disappear. He got under your skin and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake him.

His soft lips on yours, hot and peachy, the trailing of his wet open-mouthed kisses along your throat and the series of marks he was leaving on your skin, on the way down your collarbone. Feeling the smile of the other against your lips as you two kissed. The best feeling in the world. His small moans when you had pulled his lower lips between your teeth, while his hands were touching and roaming all over your body, as if he wanted to memorize each spot, each curve, each part of you. “Baby I wish it was just the two of us right now, damn, I want you so badly” he whispered. God, if they had been alone, you’d have gone further for sure. You were both turned on, you could tell, especially from the prominent bulge on his designer pants. All you wanted was to climb on top of him, straddling his hips, panting in his hear and feel his hot breath all over you. Intense was the craving to undress him, feel his skin against yours. Shit, it was like a living a dream.

The meeting had been canceled and rescheduled for tomorrow. The situation was quite unpleasant. What you were supposed to do now?

//

Judgment Day had come. You hadn’t slept at all, all night spent tossing and turning between the sheets and looking at the ceiling. How were you supposed to act now? Should you have mentioned anything? What was really killing you, was the feeling that ‘your moment’ had meant nothing for him. Yes, after 6 months, you had gone over it, also because you had no idea how to contact him. But after seeing him again, all the buried thrills came rushing back. You absolutely needed to test the waters today. What did you have to lose? Well, your dignity maybe. If he wanted to, Duncan could have easily said something. And of course, a man of his status could have anything, or anybody, he wanted. Maybe you were overthinking, maybe not.

Since it was almost dawn, and the sun was peeking through the blinds, creating a delicate play of lights and shadows on the curtains, you decided you could actually distract yourself choosing what to wear for the meeting. You shouldn’t have done it. Your bedroom had become a battlefield, all your clothes scattered all over it, like some lifeless leftovers of the closet, now empty. Almost like a little bomb went off. You kept trying combinations on combinations, each time taking off the pieces and throwing them away anywhere around you, as if you were on the verge of a breakdown. It was still a business meeting; you couldn’t dress up too revealing or doll up too much. But at the same time, you’d never give up on being yourself and express your personality through what you wore. Respecting yourself was the most important thing. Self-love. However, this didn’t solve the problem at all. You wanted to appear at your best, challenge him, in a subtle way.

On your way to the office, an unexpected call tuned you away from your own thoughts.

“Richard! Good morning! Are you calling me for coffee? Because I’ve already stopped off at the bar, now tell me who is the best assistant in the whole world?! And I’m not even late!” your smile vanished as soon as your boss answered.

“WHAT?! What does it mean you won’t be there today?” Your heart skipped a beat and started pumping so much blood through your veins, that you felt as a heatwave was rushing inside of you. “W-well if you have family issues, we agree that it’s necessary to postpone the gathering..I-” your eyes widened at the realization that you’d be alone. With Duncan.

You almost fainted on the spot.

“I’m sure you can handle it on your own! You can still reach me with a phone call, if you ever need me. Plus, don’t you think this would be the right chance to prove yourself and finally level up, get noticed and considered for that vacant position in the style & design dep.? My money’s on you, girl!”

How could you blame him, though? He was always so encouraging.

You sighed through the phone, so he added “Look, it won’t be hard. Remember that Mr Shepherd is in your hands. We have to turn him into one of the brand advocates; he’s young, a self-made man, the best choice to promote the brand awareness. It’s up to you now.”

Wow, that’s very reassuring you figured, shaking your head.

“Ok, you can do this, I have to go now, let me know how it goes. Bye!” Fuck.

“W-wait! I can’t do that withou-” he has already hung up. Looking up to the sky and letting out a frustrating grunt, you allowed yourself a childish whine and mumbled a ‘why me’.

Now you were standing outside the building, trying to collect yourself before entering. You were wearing an oversized see-through blouse, tucked in a black knee-length skirt, and an *accent color* blazer with rolled-up sleeves, to complete the look. You were ready to fight. No more clumsy bullshit.

Breathe, remember to breathe you reminded yourself, looking at the elevator door.

You strode next to the receptionist’s desk, Tiffany, or, as you liked to call her, ‘Crazypants’; since her eyes were always so disturbingly wide open – Does she ever blink? – and her hair painfully pinned back, so tight that must have hurt her. She seemed a cross between a barbie and a psycho killer. As soon as you walked by her desk, Crazypants greeted you overly excited, calling you with her earsplitting high-pitched voice. You put on your fakest smile and replied,

“Morning Tiff, uhm, I wish I could stay and chat, but I have work to-”

“The client is already here. He’s waiting for you in the fitting room” she winked. Hell, you hoped your blushing wasn’t so obvious, you couldn’t even have a few minutes to be psychologically prepared. Well, maybe better pull off the band-aid.

“Thank you for warning me! I’ll be right there” you answered. Not even before your exams you felt all this pressure.

Why is it always so hot?!

Walking along the hallway as if you were going to your own execution, you found yourself in front of the door of the rehearsal room. You gently opened it and entered. Do you know when, at some point in movies, there’s a slow-motion moment with background music?! There it was. Precisely. He had his back turned, gazing the skyline through the glass wall. And the second he heard the clicking of a pair of heels, he turned his head, smiling at you and looking intensely at your figure. You were about to die for real now.

How could someone be so beautiful?

His hair perfectly styled, his hot stubble,... Oh, that stubble was your weakness. You could already feel it between your legs and…

“Hey hey, easy with that” he teased with his deep honeyed voice, pointing the take-out coffee cups you were holding. You winced and giggled

“I’ll never stop apologizing about that, ehm, incident…but if you want one, go ahead!”

You looked at each other smiling for a while, until you had to break the silence and eventually get down to business. “So, I guess it’s better if we start…Mr Shepherd, so then you’ll be free to go back to work”, he exhaled and nodded

“Oh please, just call me Duncan.”

You saw a sort of shift in his features. His face went blank. He adopted a bossier and intimidating position, like last time. Ok, maybe he just wants to keep it professional, I understand.

“When is Richard coming?” he questioned while taking his trench coat off. “To be honest, it’ll just be me today, but it’s all right, you’re in good hands” you slightly smiled. He sighed again and you rose your eyebrow, taking it as an unspoken insult.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well, yes, I didn’t come here to waste my time with a newbie assistant.” Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“No need to get upset darling, this is what you are, after all” he stated shrugging. You were speechless; yes, you were an assistant, but the way he said that, as if you were a dumb zero…What an asshole.

“Oookay, since I’m here..let’s continue” he glanced at you, waiting for her next move. “I agree, you can change in the wa-” you paused; he was literally undressing in front of you.

“What? There’s nothing you’ve never seen...I guess” You were confused…was he teasing you or something? “You should be more professional, I’m saying it for you”, your rage slowly increasing and flowing throughout your entire body. He was a completely different man, with all those unnecessary mean remarks. He gave you mixed feelings. You would have punched him, but at the same time, contemplating his perfectly-shaped heavenly body, his toned muscles, his thighs..you wanted to jump on him, kiss him and be his, in every way possible.

“You’re staring.”

“W-what?! No. I’m waiting for you to finish undressing, so I can give you the first change to wear..”

“Sure.”

You’d already had enough of his attitude. “I suggest starting with this evening suit, since Richard told me you’ll attend a charity gala in a few days.”

“Hush, please, save it. I don’t need all your pointless suggestions. I can handle it by myself.” he seemed almost..angry? You didn’t know how to hit back anymore. Why was he acting like that, all of a sudden? He tried on a few different outfits while you were staying there, silent, shifting your weight from a leg to another, your eyes wandering through the room, your lips pressed into a thin line and your mind trying to figure out what was happening. Duncan, noticing the tapping of your fingers on your thigh, rolled his eyes and gave you an annoyed look.

Then he huffed “Impatient, uh?”

You were hovering on the brink of an outburst.

“Why don’t you do your job and bring me some water, or take notes, or whatever you get paid for?”

“My job is helping you find a set of appropriate clothes for various occasions, trying to create the right mix & match that suits your taste and personality...” you retorted in a plain tone.

“Oh, thanks for the not required explanation, Wikipedia..”

“..but I’m not stupid, I know what a fucking stylist does” he was pushing your buttons.

“If you’d allow me to do my job, instead of questioning me, I could recommend something..”

“No need to whine, baby girl…So do it, instead of staying there like a scared little girl.”

“If relying on someone to select your wardrobe really bothers you..why don’t you choose them by yourself?” you sassed, struggling to remain polite.

“Well, I’ve demanded the help of a professional, not that of a ‘coffee-bringer’…and I’m wasting my time here”.

Ok, that’s enough.

He was still a client, but for you being treated like that wasn’t acceptable anymore. “You know what? I don’t fucking care if I get fired after saying these words. But I’m done with your dumbass comments. You’re a douchebag. I’m trying to do my job and, just because you’re rich and influential, you think you can treat me like that. Like I’m trash?” you were finally giving in to an outburst “The saddest thing is that I really hoped you would remember me. About that moment we shared 6 months ago, on that flight to New York. But obviously, I’ve given it much thought. Turns out that I’m just one of many, aren’t I? I’ve been thinking about you for weeks and when I saw you again, it all came flooding back. I’m so stupid. It’s not your fault, I was wrong to think that day could have really meant something.”

While talking, you were struggling to hold back the tears, you weren’t supposed to look pathetic, but your eyes were already watering. “So, do me a favor: end this meeting now. I’ll call Richard and tell him to take care of you, since you do not believe I’m capable enough to fulfill your needs..”

“..oh and don’t worry about seeing me again, I don’t want anything to do with you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” you spat, entering the small wardrobe room, without bothering to switch on the light, hoping that your angry tears would have remained unnoticed in the darkness and that Duncan would have gone for good. So you started moving crutches on the clothes stand, to make room for those outfits to restock over.

Unexpectedly you felt an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. It was Duncan. He hadn’t left.

His body pressed against yours, you were paralyzed, his arms keeping a firm grip on you. What’s happening? You knew you should have pushed him back and kick him out, but something inside you decided against it. It was like a part of your dumb heart wanted to stay still in that position forever. You two remained silent, until he whispered in your hear, with his hot breath and his cologne filling your nostrils - a mixture of cinnamon, sandalwood and tobacco.

“I’m sorry..” he sighed. He sounded sincere.

“..I went too far.”

Now your own hands were resting upon his arms. You could feel the heat his body was radiating right now. With a honeyed soft tone, he murmured “Please forgive me, I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that having you standing here again, in front of me, stunned me. I didn’t know what to do and I misunderstood your demeanor. I thought you were pretending nothing had happened, or that you didn’t recall that day, or that you simply didn’t care.”

His hold slowly loosened, allowing you to turn around and look at him with narrowed eyes and a puzzled expression, without a word.

“Uhm, I’m not very good at communicating my emotions, but you’re right. I’ve been a dick. You didn’t deserve it, but I was overwhelmed by the attempt to suppress my own feelings. Since I saw you again,”

he paused,

“you are all I can think about.” he admitted, stroking your tear-stained cheek with his thumb, but you tried to resist him,

“I hope you’re not trying to play me, because otherwise I’ll smash that stupid hot smirk to the ground.”

“So do you think I’m hot, uh?!”

“You dumbass.”

“God, you’re so damn sexy when you’re mad.” he teased, coming closer.

“What?” you giggled. He stared at your lips “I just can’t stop thinking about kissing you right now…” and unexpectedly, his hand drifted to your hip, pulling you even closer. You inhaled deeply. You were against his warm chest, sculpted to perfection. Why must he be so perfect? You placed your hand against it, intending to push him away, but instead you left it there. You froze, from both fear and excitement.

You two stared into each other’s eyes and his breathing quickened as did yours. He slowly leaned in, so his forehead rested against yours. You closed your eyes. Your faces were inches apart now, and he lightly traced your lips with one finger. His other hand placed behind your neck, shortening the distance even more.

Your noses bumped and your mouths matched up slightly-opened, breathing each other’s air directly. He brushed his lips against yours and you freaking loved it. You loved the way your body melted into his. The way your lips perfectly fitted like two puzzle pieces. The way Duncan held you tighter and tighter. It sent shivers down your back. His only desire was to touch you, to move his hands under your layers and feel your smooth skin.

You two broke the kiss for a second to catch your breath. Then he pulled you in, claiming your mouth again, hungry and intense. Duncan lowered his hands down your hips, cupping your ass and dragging you impossibly close. You deepened the kiss swallowing his groan of pleasure as you lost into each other, no space between you two. His hands were exploring your body, while you grabbed his hair tightly to restrain your own moans.

Slowly, you started exploring each other’s mouths with your tongues. Sometimes sucking his lower lip and biting it a little bit. He started kissing your jaw and leaving hickeys on your neck. He didn’t want to let you go, so he pulled you again and kissed you so hard, with much more intensity. He squeezed you, suggesting that he wasn’t going to stop. You didn’t mind at all and continued making out.

He slowly put his hands under your blouse, trying to reach and unhook your bra, eager to run his fingers along your breasts and rub it. You began unbuttoning his button-down, seductively leaving wet kisses and love bites on his chest. He moaned. Then Duncan raised your blouse and took it off completely, so he could see you.

“You’re beautiful” he purred, and started massaging your chest and kissing it hardly, licking and biting gently your nipple. While Duncan was playing with your body, you could only keep on tugging his hair, making his moans vibrate against your body. Then he kneeled down kissing your stomach.

Both of you couldn’t silent your groans anymore, the entire room was filled by sexual noises. But you didn’t care at all. You knew where it was going. Duncan pushed you against a wall, grinding on you and you could clearly feel his hardness pressed against your body. You needed more friction.

“Jump.” he suddenly hinted, and used his veiny arms to hold you up by your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Your core was throbbing at that very moment.

But you were brought back to planet Earth right after; that divine feeling was ruined by a pesky thought that clouded your mind.

What if he’s just interested in sex?

He sensed your sudden slowing down. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you remained silent, he brushed his mouth against your temple,

“Or now.”

he followed the line of your cheekbone,

“Or now.”

now he was kissing your chin,

“Or—”

then your lips were against his, again. You kept undressing slowly, savoring the moment.

But that damn thought came back, stuck in your mind. And eventually it hit you. “Wait…wait” you said, trying to steady your breathing.

“What’s wrong angel? I did something wrong or..” he questioned worriedly. “No, not at all, it was perfect..but I don’t think this is right.”

“Wait what?! Why?” Duncan replied in disbelief.

“I’m not a yes girl, Duncan. I’m not looking for casual hookups, I really want to know you better and see where this leads us.” you smiled reassuringly, caressing his cheek. You were scared as fuck. Maybe he wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, just random booty calls. But you had to take the risk. You wanted to.

“Uhm..yeah. I guess that sounds fair enough.” he chuckled and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “How about a coffee date? I know a place, it’s quite secluded, to not attract the attention of press and journalists” you tilted your head and frowned,

“What do you mean?”

“Angel, I don’t want you to be targeted by newspapers, they aim to find some dirt on me and make every aspect of my private life public. I prefer keeping a low profile, and put you in an uncomfortable position is the last thing I would want.” “Oh, ok. I got it.” you were a little thoughtful, to be honest. But in that moment, you would have agreed with everything he was saying. You used every inch of strength you had, to stop and not go further. Not that there was anything wrong with that. You just wished to learn more about that handsome man in front of you; his desires, his passions, his values and aspirations.

“I’d better get back to work, they’ll wonder what happened to me.” he smirked. “Yeah, you better hurry up, then” you laughed, while putting your blouse on. “I’m gonna put aside the chosen clothes” you informed, but before you could leave the cramped room, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in his arms, giving a last soft peck on your lips.

“How can I focus now, with the thought of you against me?!”

“You’ll have to make do with the memory..” you shot back “..for now.” you cooed, whispering in his hear.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. You had exchanged numbers and with all those texts you were sending to each other, you felt like a schoolgirl again. Nothing could have ruined that sensation. Before going back home, Richard called you, questioning you about the meeting, not noticing your struggle to not make disconnected sentences or beat around the bush, to hide your embarrassment. Then, to thank you for having his back, he gave you another assignment: a high-society lady had requested a selection of gowns to choose, to attend a few fundraising events. Another important add-on for your CV. A few more efforts and they would have finally offered you the long-awaited position in the creative team.

//

The consultation had been set up two days later, you had to go to the customer’s penthouse this time. Ugh, lazy rich people. You rang the doorbell and right after you were greeted by a thin blonde girl, all fake boobs and tinted tips, wearing a dress that seemed closer to a long top, rather than an actual dress.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Come in! I’ll be right back” she yelled. You came in holding the garment bag; you were shocked when you found out how actually big the apartment was: super modern, black & white themed and with some art hanging on the walls.

Uhm, de gustibus you muttered to yourself.

“Here I am, sorry for the waiting. I am Madison!” Why rich people seem so reluctant to share their last name with me? you mused, smiling to yourself.

“Let’s start, shall we?”

And then Madison took you to what has to be her large bedroom. Odd. That seemed more like a bachelor to you, but judging wasn’t your thing.

The fitting went smooth as silk. This Madison was a bombshell, every single dress fitted her body as it was sewn on her. For the upcoming event she chose a nude silk dress, that perfectly matched her skin tone. She looked pretty excited for the pick, so much that she started screaming and calling out loud, making you aware that there was someone else around.

“Muffin come here!!! I chose the dress!! It’s perfect oh my God! You must see it before I take it off!”

MUFFIN.

Seriously? Do not laugh, please, do not laugh.

You were biting her lip a little too hard. While Madison kept calling her…muffin, you decided to do something and began packing all the stuff back up into the bag.

“Oh finally, you walk so slow, babe…now, look! What do you think?” Before the man could answer she continued “Oh wait, how rude I am. Y/N, this is my fiancé...”

As soon as you turned around and lifted your gaze, your heart stopped beating.

“…Duncan!”

His smile soon disappeared too, replaced by a shocked and guilty expression, like a deer caught in the headlights. You froze in place.

You were trying to hold back the impending flood of tears, washing it away with your anger. A million different feelings rushed through you, but at the same time you couldn’t feel anything, just your own heart, literally breaking down in pieces.

“Do you already know each other?” Madison asked, noting Duncan’s surprise. You gathered all the strength left within you and stated

“Just one of the many customers.”

Then, lowering your broken voice, you sputtered a “Now I really have to go.”

Without saying anything more, you took the garment bag and run straight to the door, shutting it down behind your back. Right after, a teardrop rolled over your cheek, and your eyes started watering. Once that the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Before turning into a sobbing mess, you walked fast down the hallway, reaching the elevator and waiting for the doors to open up.

Before you could take another step, a large hand took you by the wrist, keeping you in place. You turned around and instantly pushed him back, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“Please,” he begged,

“Let me explain. Please, I don’t want to lose you! We have something..w-we can talk about it, please, wait!”

“Go to Hell” you snapped;

and then you shoved his hand away, entering the elevator. Stupid. I am so fucking stupid. You two looked at each other one last time, shedding tears. The eyes of both soaking blatantly. And then the doors shut.

That heartbreak felt like concrete drying in your chest.

________________________________________________________________

Tagging: (I hope you don’t mind BUT tell me if you want to be removed, I was just curious to know your opinion about it, if you'd like to read it) MUCH LOVE @ladynuwanda @hecohansen31 @michael-langdon-appreciation @sojournmichael @so-langdon @stupidocupido @sammythankyou @emmyrosee​ 

[littleangel4996]

Rejected no more

Werewolf! Duncan Shepherd X plus size shy! reader

Summary: Rejected all your life but what happens when the alpha, Duncan Shepherd finds you as his mate?

Warning: Past Rejection, comfort, fluff, smut, breast play, Cunnilingus(female receiving)

Y/n P.O.V

You're too thick

Your eyes are two different colors freak

I don't dig shy girls

Let me know when you've changed your appearance to a Kardashian then maybe I'll mate with you.

Lose the gut

Imagine someone telling you that you're imperfect. I have been told these shameful words all my life when ever I sense him, my mate. The beast to my moon. My grandma told me one day the right mate will find me and accept me for who I am. I tried to believe my dear grandmother's words but it just hurt so much that I couldn't think about it anymore. My inner wolf talks to me when I'm in my deepest sad thoughts. It kinda helps when I'm talking to her. I've worked at my grandma's diner as a waitress and yes I have to wear the pink and white dress, one of her dress codes. She also says I look cute in it. Please, I look like a fat gumball. I walked over to a table of two ready to take their order until I noticed a familiar kind welcoming face.

"(Y/n)!" Anette exclaimed as she got up from the booth giving me a warm welcoming hug. Anette Shepherd and her tribe have been great allies to the (y/l/n) tribe. Eversince the Underwoods slaughtered my family as I was about to join them when I was nine years old, Anette took Frank's life before he could take mine.

"Hello Anette, how are you?" I asked.

"Oh fine, just spending the day with my son. You've met Duncan yes?" Yes I have. Duncan Shepherd, the alpha of the Shepherd tribe. I very rarely talk to Duncan because when I'm around him and when grandma and Anette encourage me to talk to him it's always awkward between us, him being the alpha. He's staring up at me, he probably wants me to stop chatting with his mom and take their order. Annette took her seat.

"Okay umm, would you like anything to drink or ready to-" I felt a hand on my wrist it was Duncan . `Oh no, I hope I didn't do anything wrong' I thought to myself as Duncan stood up above me leaning in too close for my comfort.

Is he sniffing me? Oh my moon please not again please don't tell me he's my-

"Mate" he finished my sentence of thought .

"Wow you are so-" 

"Ugly? Fat? Freak?Shy?" I cut him off not looking at him.

"I was actually going to say-"

"I know what you were going to say" I yanked my hand away from him still not looking up at him. " you don't want to have a fat girl as your mate. I don't I want to hear it from you" I cried, taking off running out of the diner. I ignored the calls from my grandma and Annette as I got into my car and drove away to my quiet place.

-----

The Forest has always calmed me down when I'm upset, the lake makes it feel more calmer when I look at it's beauty. Grandma and Anette tried calling me like a hundred times. Right now I just want to stay here for a bit and then I'll go back to my sad life. I don't know how long I've been here do to my crying on the hood of my car.

"He's here"  my inner wolf told me. I don't know what she's talking about until I smelled the scent of...MY MATE?!?.

I turned around to see him. Duncan fucking Shepherd. He still looked the same when I left the diner in a panic. Blue-grey jacket and wearing all black. "Go ahead" I whispered, still looking down. " Say that I'm not your mate". Duncan walks up to me and did something that none of my ungrateful mates had done. He pulls me off the hood and wraps me in his warm embrace, petting my (y/c/h). I wanted to push away and drive away from him but all I did caved into his embrace and let the tears fall down my cheeks. " My Moon, why would you think I'd reject something so beautiful?" He asked. I was too scared to look at him, afraid he'll disappear and I'll be left alone with no mate. He lifted my chin up, still having my eyes shut.

"Look at me" he pleaded, I shook my head.

"As your mate I am asking you to let me see your eyes. Now" he growled at the last part. 

"Trust him, he's the right one I know it" I listened to my inner wolf's thoughts and slowly opened my eyes to reveal my natural eye and my (y/f/c) eye. He examined both of my eyes and said "beautiful". Then he leaned his lips on my own as I was taken aback but I start to melt in his kiss. I couldn't believe Duncan Shepherd, The Duncan Shepherd is kissing me for the first time. I'm having my first kiss with Duncan fucking Shepherd. This kiss feels so real like an electrical force going through my body. We both pulled back as we placed our heads together.

"My precious mate, allow me to show you how beautiful you truly are to me" he husked. He picks me up, setting me on the hood of my car and pushing me down where I lay looking up at the sky.

"Duncan, please be gentle. I'm still a virgin" I confessed. He stopped what he was doing and placed a gentle peck on the cheek. 

"My Moon, I would have to take your virginity another time. Right now I want to pleasure your breasts" he places a hand on my right one "and" he trails his hand down and placing it on my sensitive part where I gasped. "Your pussy with my fingers ," he whispered seductively into my ear. He starts to remove his jacket then his shirt revealing his toned body as my cheeks turned red at the sight of his glories. No wonder he's the alpha. "You like what you see baby" he said smirking.

"Sorry" I looked away and turned my face towards his and began to kiss me. He gently nipped at my lip, perfect time to stick his tongue in my mouth then I pulled back gently. "I've never done a French kiss before " I shyly said.

"You kiss the top of the lips, the bottom of the lips" he showed me by doing how it's done. "Then graze your tongue between the lips and slowly add a little tongue" he grazed his tongue and slides it in my mouth, this time I don't pull back. He lays me down on the hood with his lips still pressed on mine then trails down my neck to my cleavage with his tongue. He looked up with his ocean blue eyes giving me this devilish grin and rips open my dress. I was wearing a strapless bra and he slowly start to slide down my bra.

"Your tits are so" he growled at the last part as he kissed his way to my left breast licking around the nipple then starts to suck on it while his other hand tweaks my right nipple. 

"Oh my God, Duncan more" I breathed, running my fingers through his golden-brown hair giving it a small tug. He tugged my nipple lightly letting it go and  starts to give the same treatment to my right breast. My pussy was aching for him, I could feel my panties getting wet. He abandoned my breast, sliding his hand down to lift my dress up touching my soaked panties. He hummed in approval.

"Tell me what you want, goddess. Say it and I'm all yours".

"Please Duncan, please make me feel good" I pleaded, biting my lip. Duncan pushed up my dress to my hips. Revealing my baby pink panties to him. He looked up at me licking his lips as he pulled down my with his teeth dragging them down my legs. Once he takes them off he pressed the pink fabric to his nose inhaling them like it had febreeze on them and groaned in response then tucks them in his pocket . "I'm gonna make you mine, (y/n). My mate forever."  After he pecked me on the lips he went down to give a kiss on pussy and swirls his tongue around like I'm the sweetest lollipop from the candy store. Duncan spreads my folds and starts to suck on clit, making my back arched up.

"Holy fuck Duncan" I moaned.

"Fuck you taste like the forbidden fruit, baby" he moaned at the taste of my juices flowing.

I moaned as I ground my pussy against his mouth. He smiled and kept eye contact with me, and then plunged his tongue inside me and lapped up my juices and then slid his tongue up to flick at my clit. After plunging his tongue in my pussy, Duncan slides one finger inside me and pumped his index finger slowly.

" You want more, baby" he looked up at me, his mouth glistening with my juices. I shook my head yes and adds a second finger. My pussy clenched around his wonderful fingers, and that made him smile.  He curled it upward and found my g-spot and I gasped. He speeded up his movements and sucking on my clit at the same time. If there is a God, then Duncan Shepherd is definitely a God. And I'm getting finger-fucked by one. I could feel my orgasm building up and Duncan can sense it. 

"You ready to cum for me, sweetheart huh" 

"Yes Duncan yes, please make me cum!" I said out loud for the whole forest to hear.

"Go ahead baby, cum for me. I wanna taste you. Now" he groaned and that's all I needed to make me cum and I screamed his name, shaking from the pleasure I was given. Duncan made sure no drop of juice on my area was left behind. Duncan pulls me up wrapping his arms around me as I tried to breath. "Breath my love, you did so well. You are so special to me beautiful" and placed his lips on my own, tasting myself on him.

"(Y/n)"

"Yes, Duncan".

"Umm you might wanna take your car to get it washed," he said. I gave him a quizzical look until I looked down and my car was stained with my cum then laughed. Duncan takes the rest of my clothing off and he does the same as he picks me up from the hood of my car bridal style taking me towards the lake.  He puts me down gently, guiding me with his hand on my own to the water. As the water touches our waist and Duncan cups my face.

"I promise my moon goddess, to always be loyal to you, trustworthy and a great mate to you. Your grandma had told me about all your past mates who rejected your true beauty. I promise to love you for who you are" I almost tear up at his speech then kisses me again. I'm really lucky for Duncan to have found me and accepted me as his mate.

A/n: here's another one shot after I posted the other one-shot of Duncan. I want to thank @emmyrosee for encouraging me to do this one-shot and @dyns33 for encouraging me to do one-shots and thank you all for your support. I'm staying at my dad's and grandma's house with my brother and won't come home until labor day so I'm taking a 3 day writing break. Thank you love you all😘😘😘😘😘.

@barbie-solecism

@sodanova

@wvntersldr

@kylolangdon

@theghostoflangdon

@miskwaadesiwag

@whysosadmcfly

@creativedogs

@kaccatus

@goddess-of-inferno

@captainskyline

@gracethegeek9902

@castiel-saved-me-from-myself

@amortentiaxo

@langdonsdemon

@poisedphantom

@dyns33

@lvngdvns

[daadddysprincessss]

Insomnia 

Pairings: Duncan Shepherd x fem reader

Warnings: none, just very soft

REPOST from my old blog

 Another night passed where your insomnia kept you awake - you rolled over to peaked over Duncan’s shoulder at his alarm clock ‘4:30am’ glowed red across the digital screen - you laid on your back sighed at yourself

“Why can’t I sleep” you said quietly to yourself,

You heard a muffled groan come from Duncan’s side of the bed, you turned your body to face him - god he was so angelic - his soft curls laid on the pillow, it was like looking at a painting - you reached your hand up to caress Duncan’s face, running your thumb over his bottom lip - “my sleepy baby” you whispered to yourself

“My baby, shouldnt you be asleep” Duncan groaned out, his voice rough with sleep

“I’m trying, now go back to bed” you laughed softly, while your palm rubbed against his scruffy beard.

Duncan’s hand held yours for you moment, opening his sleepy eyes to look at you - he turned his head slightly to look at the clock and than back to you

“There’s no point for me to go back to bed baby, I’ll be in an hour anyways” Duncan yawned - than quickly pulling you into his arms so your flat against his chest

“baabbbe” you whined

“Yessss” Duncan sleepily teased

“Get some more sleep before work, you have a long day ahead of you” you looked up at Duncan

Duncan let out a tired laugh “i’ll cut you a deal baby - i’ll go back to sleep if you do me a favour” Duncan said softly

“I’m all ears donut” You nuzzled into his chest with an eager smile

Duncan opened one eye and looked at you - “play with my hair till I fall asleep?” Duncan smiled

“Well of course I can babe” you smiled

You reached your hand up placing it on Duncan’s hair - you ran your fingers through a few pieces of hair that fallen into Duncan’s face, pushing them to the side - god his hair was soft, and slightly curled. You tangled your fingers into Duncan’s hair - twirling the different strands between your fingers, within 5 minutes Duncan was fast asleep again, the sound of his soft snores brought you comfort in a way - your eyes started to become heavy as your hand still played with his hair. Your heavy eyes finally closed - your breathing was shallow and calm, you felt peaceful.

 “My angel” Duncan whispered in your ear

Your eyes open slightly enough to see Duncan hovering over you -

“Yes baby” you yawned

You reached your arms up to stretch - wrapping your arms around the back of Duncan’s neck, causing him to collapse on top of you - Duncan started laughing as he tried to get out from your grasp but you were reluctant on letting go

“Baby I have to go to work - I was coming to give you a kiss goodbye” Duncan laughed

Your arms loosened enough for Duncan to kiss you, it was soft and sweet - one of your favourite kisses - your legs instantly wrapped around Duncan’s waist

“What time is it?” You asked softly

“It’s 7:30 my love, but if I don’t go now I’ll be late for work” Duncan said softly as he pulled back from the kiss

You removed your arms from his neck but kept your legs wrapped around him -

“Baby” Duncan said while pointing a finger at your legs

“Yess?” You said innocently - as if you had no idea what he meant

Duncan took a breath in a smiled - “I can never get enough of you” Duncan said softly as he leaned down to kiss your forehead

You stuck out your bottom lip and ‘pouted’ - “You’re so cute” Duncan laughed as he unwrapped your legs - “I’ll be home in no time baby, just get some more sleep okay” Duncan said as he got off the bed

“Have a good day at work - I love you” you said softly as you sat up on the bed

“I love you too baby” Duncan smiled