Cody Fern Characters

Perfect Ache

perfect ache (Duncan x fem!reader)

Anon request: Saying something sassy to older duncan, at which point he bends you over the nearest surface and spanks your 🐱 until you're begging and pleading for him to stop. He doesn't, telling you good girls don't beg, good girls take what the get. Are you gonna be a good girl? And then sticks his dick in you and just skewers you on his cock while telling you this is exactly why you shouldn't sass him bc only daddy can fill up your tight little pussy

A/N: Thanks to tumblr not allowing us to use a read more in asks anymore, I'm having to post this like this. It's not quite long enough to be an actual fic, but it is a bit longer than a drabble. It's complete smut; there's not even a trace of plot to be found here, which has like, never happened in the history of my fic writing.

Notes: Title from Hozier's "Arsonist's Lullabye." Gif credit goes to my beloved . 🖤

Warnings: Older!Duncan, dom!Duncan, age difference, rough sex, daddy kink, spanking, choking, degradation, oral sex (fem. receiving), cum eating.

Word count: 3.4k

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By now, she can't even remember what it was that she had said to Duncan that had set him off.

All coherent thought had, in fact, faded long ago-her head was absolutely swimming, hazy with both pain and pleasure. The only thing she could focus on was Duncan's strong chest pressed up against her back, the scent of his cologne in her nose, the feeling of his hot breath ghosting across the side of her face, and his hands; one was pressed against her throat, holding her head pressed back against his shoulder, and the other was busy between her thighs.

"I said," Duncan grumbles into her ear, his voice low and steady (under normal circumstances, a tone like that would cause her stomach to knot in anticipation, but now it just causes goosebumps to rise up the back of her neck), "that I wanted you to count."

She swallows thickly, struggling to find her voice. "S-Sorry."

"Sorry, what?"

She pauses for a moment, and squeezes her eyes shut as she feels her cheeks heat with shame. "Sorry, daddy," she whispers.

"That's better."

Before she even has a moment to catch her breath, Duncan raises his hand and brings it back down onto her already stinging cunt, causing her to cry out and buck her hips against the edge of the table in front of her. "Five," she breathes shakily.

They had barely made it through the foyer tonight before Duncan had grabbed her and roughly shoved her back against said table, silencing her small gasp of pain with his mouth. "You," he had growled as he'd taken her bottom lip in between his teeth and given it a sharp tug, "were incredibly naughty tonight."

She'd blinked, her eyes wide and almost owlish as she'd raised a finger to her lip, swiping away an errant drop of blood. "What did I do?" she'd asked, and Duncan's gaze had only darkened as he'd spun her around, pressing her hips against the sharp edge of the table.

"Mouthing off to me," he'd growled as he'd reached down and hiked her dress up, letting the soft, expensive crimson red fabric pool around her hips as he'd worked her black satin panties down her thighs. "Making your little sassy comments. Do you think that shit is acceptable in front of my colleagues? In front of the people who work under me?"

Had she mouthed off to him? It was difficult to remember.

The Duncan Shepherd that she knew at home, the one who would laugh and tease and joke, was an entirely different Duncan Shepherd than the CEO who ran The Shepherd Foundation.