#c: claire

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

if your still doing the prompt thing how about 17, 23, 25, 29 with power!bottom claire being stressed and intern!reader offering to help but don't have any sexual experience so claire teaches them

Thank you so much for sending this in! I'm so sorry it took so long to complete, life got very hectic, but I have it for you now! I hope I've done this request justice <3

Afterhours

Ship: Claire Debella x Reader

Summary: When you, an intern working at the governor's office, offer to stay with the governor while she works late into the night, you find yourself in a situation you have only ever fantasized of.

Word Count: 5.8k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings: smut, hints at dark!Claire, pet-names, praise kink, degradation kink, fingering, oral, first time, virgin reader, legal age gap, power imbalance, mommy kink, begging, implied subspace

It's an open secret at the office that Governor Debella is paranoid.

If the extreme vetting process to just simply become an intern is anything to go by, the woman could use some relaxation time.

After all, a single intern hardly would have the ability to take down the political powerhouse that Governor Debella is.

Or, that's what you think anyhow.

You knew you had been lucky to land the job, the experience and credentials that will pad up your resume and qualifications that will come from working here, but some days, all you can think about is how stressed the top boss constantly is.

Being a people pleaser, being a people fixer, you started to stay late, wanting to get as much work done as possible.

Sure, you're only a low level entry personnel, but what you do helps free up time for those above you to focus on more important things.

After a few weeks of being the last one in the office, Governor Debella notices.

“Don't you have someone to get home to? A boyfriend, or a pet, or something?”

You nearly topple back in your seat, startled by your boss’s boss’s boss’s boss (seriously there's a chain of command here, and you're merely a bottom feeder) not having heard her approach from behind.

“Governor!” You gasp, trying to recover. “Uh- I don't- I live with a few roommates, but they never care if I'm there or not. We're all very busy.”

Governor Debella frowns, and crosses her arms.

“There's no reason for you to be staying so late. You're an intern. You don't get paid overtime.”

You shrug.

“I don't have much else to do. Call it volunteer hours.”

(And god, doesn't that sound pathetic, especially because it's true.)

Her frown deepens.

“It's illegal for you to stay and work without pay.”

“Are you telling me I need to start going home at quitting time?”

The words spill from your mouth before you can think them through.

There's a moment of silence, and for a second you could swear it's hesitation on Governor Debella’s face.

“No.” She says, after a beat too long.

There's another, much longer silence.

You hate the quiet, and you find yourself breaking it.

“Then, er, what do you want me to do?”

Governor Debella blinks, and it draws your attention to the dark bags underneath her tired silvery-blue eyes, her makeup must having had rubbed off enough for it to begin to show.

You suddenly realize that perhaps it's just as exhausting for her as it is for everyone else to deal with her stress and paranoia.

“Would you like some company while you work?” You offer, a gentleness in your tone that you hadn't made the decision to speak with. “I could clock out and then just… Sit in your office with you if you'd like. I know how empty the building feels when everyone has left.”

This time, you know you haven't imagined her hesitation.

“I'm under contract, anyhow, Governor. If there's an additional paper you need me to sign, for security reasons, well.” You shrug. “What's one more?”

Again, there's silence, and then…

“Call me Claire, if you're really willing to sit and do nothing for hours besides for staring at my office walls.”

You're a bit shocked she's accepted your offer, and you stumble over your response.

“I- oh. Uh… Okay, um. Claire.”

The governor’s lips twitch, as if she's hiding a smile.

“But not tonight. I was just about to head out, which means you definitely should too. Security won't stick around once I leave, and the night shift…” Claire scowls. “I need to remember to get them replaced.”

It's the most you've ever heard her talk without snapping at someone to do something, let alone to you.

“Isn't that what your assistant is for? To remind you or to arrange that on your behalf?”

“That's only if I remember to tell him.” Claire mutters, before shaking her head. “Shut your computer down, you're not staying if I'm not in the building.”

She waits, hovering over your shoulder as you listen, and she walks with you out to the front of the building.

“You didn't park in the lot?” She asks, when you start to head towards home.

You can feel your face flush.

“I uh… I don't exactly get paid enough to own a car.” You refuse to look at the older woman. “Usually I just walk back.”

“It's two in the morning.” Claire sounds incredulous.

“I have pepper spray.”

“No. You're not walking home anymore.”

Claire has her arms crossed again, and an all too familiar glare is being leveled at you.

Before now, you always thought it was an angry expression.

You're beginning to wonder if maybe it's a stubborn one instead.

You sigh.

“Well short of driving me home yoursel-”

“That's exactly what I'm going to do.”

You barely manage to keep your jaw from dropping as Claire turns, clearly expecting you to follow her.

You suppose if you don't, you won't get too far before she can find you walking.

Or if not, possibly fire you over it tomorrow.

You push down your anxiety.

Don't worse case scenario. You scold yourself.

Claire drives a nondescript silver minivan.

“I have custody every other month.” She explains your unanswered question.

Ah, right.

Sometimes you forget that Claire just recently went through divorce, that she has two little ones to care for.

You remember how the media had dug it all up, how they aired her very private life for the public.

For a minivan, it's pretty nice.

When Claire turns on the car, a few loud notes play, before she quickly slams her palm against the knob that turns the car music on and off.

You raise an eyebrow, but don't say anything about it.

Instead you ask, “how are they?”

“My kids?”

She sounds mildly surprised as she reaches for her seatbelt.

“Yeah.”

You click yours in as she replies.

“They're… They're okay, all things considered.”

She puts the car in reverse, and you rattle off your address so she knows where she's headed.

Her nose wrinkles, and you're willing to bet it's because you don't live in a particularly nice area.

“You had to hire shadows- uh, bodyguards for them, right?”

Claire's hands clench the wheel, turning her knuckles white.

“I don't know of any other governor who's had their children's lives threatened.” She practically growls. “It scares them, but they won't say anything.”

“I'm sorry.” You murmur.

Claire glances at your pale face, and she takes a breath, forcing her body to relax.

“It's not your fault.” She shakes her head. “They're my kids. I'm their mother. I'm bound to be a bit overprotective.”

You choke back an unamused laugh.

“You would hope.”

Claire gives you a quick look, before returning her full attention to the road.

“What makes you say that?”

Oh crap, you didn't mean to invite Claire to dig into your life.

“Er… My parents… They weren't the best.” You mumble.

Claire frowns, eyes still looking forward.

“How old are you again?”

“Twenty-three.”

Claire hums.

“And how much are we paying you again?”

You rattle off the salary.

Claire hums again, and then there's silence for the rest of the short drive.

When she pulls up in front of your apartment, you say, “this is it.”

You undo your seatbelt and open the door, moving to leave.

“I'll have the paperwork ready for you on your desk by lunch.” Claire says.

At your confused look she huffs.

“For your extended night hours.”

Oh!

“Right, thank you. And thank you for the lift.”

Claire nods.

“If you don't have those papers past lunch break, hound my assistant. Don't take no for an answer, I might not remember to let Brian know to expect you to be a bother.”

The word bother echoes around your head, and you swallow down sudden anxiety.

“Sure thing. Good night, Governor-er- Claire.”

“Good night.” The other woman says, and you shut the passenger door firmly behind you as you sprint into your building.

—»•«—

You do have to bother her assistant the next day, and the stack of papers Claire presents you with is frankly ridiculous, but you pull out a notepad, read them through, and write bullet points of what you're agreeing to.

You sign, and initial, and date.

And then you binder clip it all together and drop it with a fairly solid thud onto Brian’s desk.

“Governor Debella will want these to be scanned and filed.” You say, even as an intern knowing the procedure for important documentation.

The man frowns at you.

“You're not done.” Brain says, and then seemingly out of nowhere, produces another stack of papers.

You groan, but your impatience quickly disappears as you stare at the sheet of paper, towards the end of the stack, that says how much of a raise you're receiving for signing on to be Claire’s personal intern.

Claire's personal intern.

$47,000

That was $15k more than what you had been making.

What the fuck.

You sign the papers, and don't say a word.

Slowly, as the day progresses, people trickle out, until you're the last one in the main office.

Brain looks at you as he leaves, and nearly walks into a wall trying to maintain his stare.

You head towards Claire's office and knock on her door.

“Come in.”

She sounds frazzled, and you realize you haven't seen her flying around the office today as you normally do.

“Everything alright?” You ask, taking note of Claire's disheveled state.

“No.” Is the simple answer you get, and you don't push as Claire continues to frantically scribble something out.

You glance around, familiarizing yourself with the private office you so rarely see the inside of, and take notice of a little seating area, with two arm chairs and a very comfortable looking couch.

In addition, there's what appears to be a bar cart, but it's filled with bottled water and sports drinks instead of alcohol, as well as a giant TV screen and what looks like a game console hooked up to it.

Somehow, you can't quite picture Claire playing video games while at work, and you have to wonder if perhaps she has ever been forced to watch one or both of her kids while working.

You don't want to become an annoyance, so instead of pacing the space, you choose to settle into one of the armchairs, curling up with one knee to your chest, the other dangling off the side of the chair.

You stare at the ceiling and let your mind wander as you examine the embedded ceiling lights.

“This is fucking bullshit.” Claire suddenly growls, and the sound of a pen clattering against the plastic wood of her desk sounds through the room.

“What is?” You ask.

Claire’s head jerks up, and for a moment, she looks surprised.

“You're so quiet.” She says. “I forgot you were here.”

You shrug, and don't say I’m good at that, I've had a lot of practice growing up.

You do say, “I didn't want to be a distraction.”

Claire hums.

She does that a lot, you realize.

“Well, maybe instead I can bounce this off of you.”

She gestures for you to come around to her side of the desk, and you quickly skim over what appears to be a proposal for a bill.

“Is it even legal for me to be doing this?” You ask.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Claire shrugging.

“You work for the government office this will be coming out from. It's not illegal, just out of the norm.”

You make a noise of understanding, going over the contents of it, frowning.

“What’s the problem with this?” You ask once you're finished giving the proposal a once-over.

Claire viciously stabs a single digit at some handwritten notes laying next to her keyboard.

“This section, this sentence, this paragraph, this fucking word is wrong, but the thesaurus is being useless-”

“Whoa, whoa.” You slow down what was sure to be Claire spiraling into more stress. “What's the most important thing to fix here?”

Claire blinks, pauses, frowns, then flips through her notes.

“Here.” She finally decides. “This entire section needs to be completely rewritten.”

You scroll to the right place on the computer screen and read it over more carefully.

“I'm pretty sure we can bullshit what you want to say here.” You murmur half to yourself. “It shouldn't be too difficult, most of the framework is here, it's just about closing the loopholes and rewording things to be less polarizing.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Claire grumps, leaning back in her chair and frowning as she crosses her arms.

You shrug.

“I bullshitted my fair share of essays, the difficult part to it is having a decent outline, which you already have.”

The other woman grumbles something under her breath before sitting up, shooing you away with a flick of her hand.

“Alright, well if it's that easy.” Her tone is disgruntled, but her fingers are already clacking against the keyboard, and you take that as your signal to return to the armchair you had been lazing about in.

At the end of the night, she drives you home again.

It becomes a routine.

For the next few months, Claire uses you as a sound board during the late hours, and you've taken to bringing either a book to read or an adult coloring book to do while you sit with her.

And then something big must have happened in her private life, because Claire is an absolute menace even to you one Monday, tearing through the office morale like a hot knife to butter.

You don't dare say a thing, even when she snaps at you later that night for being incompetent, and you just sit and take it.

She doesn't mean it personally.

You know that.

But by the time Thursday rolls around, her attitude hasn't changed, and you've found yourself retreating, becoming as small and invisible as possible in an attempt to spare yourself from Claire’s wrath.

You hear shuffling from where you're curled up on the couch, and you look up, and find Claire downing a shot, a bottle of amber liquid sitting on her desk.

“I know I've been an ass.” She says when she catches your eye.

“You've been stressed.” You excuse.

Claire shakes her head.

“There are better ways of releasing steam.”

“Well what do you usually do?”

You think this must be the first conversation all week that Claire is having civilly.

“Get high. Or have sex.”

Your mouth drops open at her blasé answer.

“And I haven't been able to do either.” She complains.

“Well, er. I could- I could help. If you wanted. To- um. To destress, I- I mean.”

You don't know why those words left your mouth, and the moment they do, you can feel your face heat up.

Sure, you've begun to have the occasional fantasy or wet dream about your boss, but that wasn't the same thing as implying you'd have sex with her.

HR is going to have a field day with you.

You're going to be fired.

You bury your face into your hands, and when Claire gently brushes her fingers against your back, you jump.

You hadn't heard her move.

“Look at me.” She softly says, and you shiver at how low her voice is pitched.

“There's a good girl.” She smiles as you listen, and the pulse of heat that shoots down your spine makes you feel dizzy.

Her hand comes up to cup your face, angling it upwards and forcing you to meet her eyes.

“Do you mean it, baby?” She asks, and you shiver at the pet-name, biting your lip as you grow more aroused. “You'll help mommy destress?”

Your eyes widen at the title Claire has bestowed upon herself, and you flush with embarrassment as the whine you've been fighting to keep down slips out through your mouth and escapes.

Your boss chuckles.

“Such a sweet thing. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, offering to stay so late with me, did you?”

You frown, confused, despite your ever growing arousal.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Claire smiles, but it's a sharp thing that causes gooseflesh to erupt along your arms.

“Please, doll. I've seen the way you look at me. And we both know how aware you are of how… Lonely, I have been.”

Her hand reaches out, and she brushes her knuckles gently against your cheek.

“Say yes.”

Her voice is pitched low, and it makes you shiver.

“Say yes to mommy, and I promise, you'll never have to worry about a thing again.”

Perhaps it should be your sign to leave right now, the possessiveness that practically drips from the governor's tone, but all it does is empty your head of thought.

“Yes.” You breathlessly say. “Yes, I'll help mommy destress.”

“Good girl.” She purrs, and when your lips part to allow a moan to tumble out, Claire gently presses against your tongue with two fingers.

When you stay still, frozen and unsure of what the older woman wants you to do, she furrows her brow and withdraws her fingers.

“Have you ever had sex before, honey?”

Immediately you can feel heat rise to your cheeks as you shake your head, shame rising in your throat.

“I- I'm a virgin.” You whisper, tripping over your words. “This is my first time…”

You trail off, embarrassed.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Claire coos, her eyes sparking with something that makes you feel a bit like her prey. “Budge over.” She says.

Mindlessly, you obey, scooting all the way down, and Claire settles back against the arm of the couch, and she lazily smiles at you as she slowly, tantalizingly spreads her legs.

You had no idea a suit skirt could stretch so much.

You had no idea how well it could hide the fact that Claire wasn't wearing any underwear either.

“Teach me how to make you feel good.” You're flooded by a sudden need to please this woman spread out before you, a sudden desire to watch her come undone because of you. “Show me how to touch you.” You beg. “Please.”

Claire chuckles deeply.

“You're going to be so perfect for me, baby.” She husks out, and you can feel how your pussy pulses, leaking wetness against the material of your underwear.

Unlike Claire, you're wearing a pair.

A niggling feeling of regret bothers you.

You wish you were easily accessible for your boss.

You want her to ruin you.

“Come here, honey.” Claire beckons you with a single finger, and you're obedient, crawling until you hover over her.

She reaches her hands up, and oh so gently cups your face with her hands, guiding your head downwards until your lips are just millimeters apart.

One of her thumbs softly brushes over your cheek, moving back and forth in a soothing sweeping motion, and her silvery-blue eyes gaze deep into your own.

The moment stretches, and you grow impatient of waiting, and despite your heart hammering against your ribcage, you close the miniscule gap between your lips and hers.

They're so fucking soft.

Claire isn't your first kiss by any means, but you deeply wish it were.

You're moaning into her mouth like you're a slut, and when Claire enters your own with her tongue, it's all you can do to keep yourself from falling atop of her as your limbs go weak.

Languidly, you make out with your boss, and as you do so, one of her knees makes its way between the apex of your thighs.

When you instinctively buck into the touch, Claire pulls away, and breathlessly laughs at you.

“Remember, doll. This is about mommy, not about you.”

Your head is spinning from the lack of oxygen.

You whimper, and bite your lip.

Her expression softens, and she reaches up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

“Didn't mommy say that as long as you're with me, I'll see to all your needs? Make me feel good, and I promise, you'll get a reward, sweet thing.”

You drop your head against her shoulder, and the whine that escapes you causes Claire to reach up and stroke at your hair.

“Let me show you how to touch mommy, baby. Let me show you how she likes to be pleasured.”

It's not fair, you think. No one woman should have the right to say things like that in such a husky sounding voice.

Your pussy throbs.

You lift your head up, and shift your weight, settling back so that you're straddling Claire.

“Please mommy, teach me.” You beg, and the older woman groans at the plain desperation that drips from your tone. “Teach me how to make you scream for your baby.”

At the word ‘scream’, Claire's eyes light up, something that simultaneously sends a shiver of fear through your body, but also a shiver of anticipation.

“You want to make mommy scream, doll? Get off, and I'll show you how.”

Gracelessly you tumble off of Claire and onto the floor, and she shakes her head as she laughs.

“You’re adorable, sweetheart.”

She stands, and as she walks back to her desk, she strips, carelessly leaving her clothes crumbled on the floor.

As she settles back into her leather seat, she spreads her legs wide in a clear order.

Her gaze feels intense as she watches you wobble over to her, before you collapse, dropping to your knees, your legs unable to continue to support your weight.

Your head spins as the scent of Claire’s arousal overwhelms you, and you look up at your boss with wide, pleading eyes.

She chuckles, and her hand comes down to pet your hair, before they tangle and tug at you.

“M-mommy!” You protest. “I still don't know what to do!”

Claire groans, but she doesn't stop guiding you forward.

“You're smart, doll. I'm sure you can figure it out.”

You whimper, but don't protest further, and then the older woman's cunt is directly in your face, and you're powerless as you stick your tongue out hesitantly.

You give her a taste test.

The wetness that is slowly dripping from Claire is a bit salty, but mostly, it just tastes musky.

It isn't bad.

It's just… New.

You give Claire’s pussy a few more tiny little licks, trying to acclimate to her taste, and she tightens her hold on your hair.

“I thought you wanted to make mommy scream.” She bites out, yanking you flush against her pulsing center. “So do it. Mommy needs to relax, and you're going to help.”

Helplessly, you do as Claire commands, and you start lapping at her earnestly.

When she lets out an unrestrained moan above you, you can't help but moan in return, and Claire gasps.

She yanks your head back, her chest heaving slightly, pupils blown wide.

“I never thought you could make such sweet noises, baby.” She breathlessly says.

You feel heat rushing to your face, and Claire's free hand grips your chin when you try to look away.

“Neither did I.” You whisper, ashamed.

Claire tsks.

“None of that now, honey, mommy wants to hear you again. Moan for me.”

Your mouth drops open, and your mind goes blank as you try to process your boss’s demand.

Her grip tightens.

“I said moan for me, bitch.”

It tumbles involuntarily from your mouth, loud and uncontrolled, and Claire's grip on your chin turns painfully.

“Does that turn you on? For mommy to degrade you like the little fucking slut you are?”

The noise you make in response causes Claire’s eyes to glint as she smirks.

“Who knew beneath all that innocence was a whore.” She coos, before jerking your head forward in a clear demand.

You eat her out for what feels like ages, the taste of Claire filling your senses, and you grow progressively lightheaded.

You find your thoughts slipping away as you become utterly focused on not letting one drop of your boss’s wetness to escape your tongue, and you find your hands keeping her legs spread apart as you become more eager in your ministrations.

You feel drunk as Claire begins to make higher and higher pitched noises until finally, she goes so high, it's a shrill thing that your ears can barely withstand, and there's a wetness soaking your face that isn't from how vigorously you had been pleasuring her.

She hasn't told you to stop, though, and you find yourself not wanting to regardless, so you continue to lap at her until she harshly jerks your head away.

“Enough.” She pants, eyes closed, chest heaving. “Enough.”

Your head spins, and you feel dizzy as you stare, memorized by the woman above you.

You open your mouth, aware there's something you want to ask, but you can't seem to conjure enough words in your mind to even speak them aloud.

Silvery-blue eyes open, and the most self satisfied smirk you have ever seen curls at the edges of Claire’s lips.

“How precious.” She murmurs, before sticking her heeled foot out.

You hadn't noticed that despite shedding her clothes, the older woman had kept her shoewear on.

“Why don't you make yourself feel good, and put on a pretty show for mommy, hm?”

You slowly close your mouth, becoming aware it's been hanging open, and give your boss a confused look.

Claire sighs.

“That's right, you really don't have any experience. Could have fooled me, with how well you've made me cum, doll.”

You flush, uncertain if it's from the praise or from the degradation.

You watch as Claire carefully stands, and you're startled when she hisses, her left leg buckling from how loose and relaxed her muscles have become.

“Strip.” Claire orders, her knuckles white from how hard she's clutching at her desk. “And then lay back on the couch.”

You scramble, tugging your shirt off as you simultaneously attempt to undo the button of your pants, and you wind up tripping, falling to the floor.

Claire's laughter causes your face to heat up.

“Looks like my baby needs my help, hm?” She giggles, toeing off her heels so that she can walk properly.

You whine, and can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with embarrassment.

“Aw, sweetheart.” Claire pouts. “Mommy thinks you're cute for being so eager. No need to be so sad over it.”

You whine again, but slowly force yourself to sit up.

“Mommy.” You whimper. “Jus’ wanted to feel good.”

The older woman’s amused expression visibly softens, and warm hands reach for you.

You stand with Claire's help, and she almost reverently helps you undress, gently kissing each newly revealed piece of skin.

“Look at this beautiful body, honey. Just so perfect for me.”

Unable to bear the compliment, you choose instead to bury your head against the upper part of Claire's chest.

She coos, and runs her fingers through your hair.

“Oh, sweet thing. Is my baby feeling shy?”

You nod against her, noticing the soft smell of vanilla.

You've never noticed it before.

You had thought it was maybe the air refresher in Claire's office, but no.

It's her.

Your head spins.

And you're so wet.

Claire's laugh rumbles against you, and she easily guides you towards the couch.

You only grow steadily redder as she pulls your legs apart, kissing her way up from one ankle, and then kisses her way back down the other, over and over until you're squirming with your need.

“Mommy, please!” You cry.

Claire groans, eyes fluttering shut for a few moments, before she pulls you close, hooking your legs over her shoulders.

When she noses at your clit, your hands find her hair, and she tsks.

“No, doll. I won't reward you if you pull at my hair.”

Reluctantly, you release your grip, and bury your fingers against the cushion of the couch instead.

“Good girl.” Claire praises, and you moan softly in response.

When her tongue presses against you, you shudder at the new sensation.

It's wet and warm and slightly rough, and–

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out. “Fuck, mommy!”

Claire's hands harshly grip at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you whimper, but she continues to lavish her tongue over your clit, and you begin to squirm in earnest.

You've masterbated plenty of times, and have a few toys in your bedside drawer, but that is nothing compared to the older woman’s touch.

Within a few minutes, you're already near orgasm, and you chase the release, fighting the urge to bring your hands back up to tangle into Claire's hair.

And then right when you're about to reach that high, the moment before the waves of pleasure can overwhelm you, she pulls away, and you loudly sob.

“No, please.” You gasp.

Claire smirks, and you whimper at how lustful her gaze is, at how your wetness glistens on the bottom half of her face.

“You want to cum, baby?” She mocks you, pouting. “You want mommy to let you feel good? Then beg for it. I need to hear my cute little doll ask for permission first.”

You whimper.

“Please, mommy.” You can feel tears start to gather with how badly you want this. “Please let your baby cum, I wanna cum for you, I wanna feel good, please, please, please!”

“Hm…” Claire hums.

“Please.” The tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I wanna to cum, mommy. I want you to make me cum, please.”

You let out a sob of desperation when a single digit finds your swollen clit, and lightly begins to circle it.

“Please.” You whisper, your voice getting caught in your throat.

For a moment, you think your boss is going to deny you, and you open your mouth to continue to beg, when instead you gasp, two of Claire’s fingers suddenly stretching you open.

You let out a high pitch noise when she curls the digits, pleasure burning through you, and you buck your hips.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” You chant, unable to form any other thought, let alone words.

“Cum for me, princess.” Claire softly orders, and as if your body was designed to obey her every desire, you convulse, a scream tearing it's way from your throat as she continues to finger fuck you, the gushing wetness weeping from your pussy causing a squelching noise, and you writhe as you ride the high.

“Fuck, baby.” Claire groans. “I want you to come for me again.”

You squirm desperately, the aftershocks still pulsing through you, but Claire is stronger than your now limp body, and she thumbs at your clit, sending electric waves up your spine, causing your back to arch painfully.

“FUCK!” You cry out, unable to control your volume, and you can barely hear Claire's responding moan over the static in your ears as a new wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

You're gasping for air with how it steals your breath away, and when Claire collapses on top of you, you gladly welcome it, despite how it further suffocates your lungs of oxygen.

She smells so good. You think as you start to come back to your senses.

The scent of vanilla is still prominent, but it's now mixed with the smell of Claire’s sweat.

Somehow, it's more appealing.

The smell of sex still hangs heavy in the air, and you throb as your body unfairly grows more aroused again.

“Mommy.” You whisper.

Claire groans, burying her head further against your neck.

“You smell so good, princess.” She says. “And you look so beautiful when I fuck your brains out.”

A whimper catches in the back of your throat.

Claire finally moves, shifting until she's sitting upright, and you don't think she's ever looked as enthralling as does now.

Her cheeks are flushed, and you can clearly see faint freckles that are usually hidden under a layer of makeup that Claire must have sweated off, and her hair has gone from stick straight to gentle waves, a halo of frizz framing her face.

You lose yourself in her eyes, at how she smiles so tenderly as she helps you up and to the private attached bathroom in her office.

“Let's get cleaned up, doll.” She says, and you grin goofily at her.

Your head is still spinning.

She giggles, a light sound that makes you join in once a light snort causes her to double over.

“You're so cute.” She smiles, and you obediently spread your legs when she taps your thigh.

She gently runs the wash cloth in her hand over the sticky residue of your arousal, and you flinch every time she passes over your clit.

“You’re still so sensitive.” She breathes out. “Did mommy not satisfy you, doll? Do you want mommy to keep going until it hurts for me to?”

“I- ah!” You cry out when Claire firmly swipes the cloth over your swollen bud. “I just want to be good.”

Claire peers up at you, and you hold your breath as she weighs your words.

“Next time then, maybe.” She decides, and you aren't sure if your shoulders slump with relief or disappointment.

She finishes cleaning you up, before moving on to herself, telling you to wait as she does so.

You watch as her back muscles move with her motions, and you can't resist the urge to kiss them, to nip at them.

Who knew the governor would have such fairly well defined muscles?

“Baby.” Claire warns.

“Mmm… Mommy.” You reply, before darting the tip of your tongue out against her warm skin.

“Baby, if you want to go home, you'll stop.”

“But you're so pretty. I can't help it.”

Claire turns around, shaking her head.

“You're adorable, honey. Come on, let's get dressed so we can head home.”

Claire has to help you into your shirt and pants, and you don't notice when she pockets your underwear instead of giving it back to you when she spots it under the couch.

Before you leave, your boss insists on watching you drink a glass of water, predicting you'll be too tired to do so once she drops you off at home, expressing how important it is to her that you take care of yourself.

By the time you get to her car, you're stumbling with exhaustion, beginning to crash as the endorphin high wears off.

You can't keep your eyes open once she starts driving, and when you let out a huge yawn, Claire glances at you.

“Go to sleep, baby.” She soothingly says. “I'll wake you up when we get home.”

You're used to listening when she asks you of something, and so you don't think twice as you finally allow your eyes to stay close, and you drift off, Claire's warm hand on your thigh.

[artsy-sunny]

Messing with some glitch brushes in Clip Studio to draw an old AU for Claire ♡

The first piece references the song "Are You Waiting?" by STOMACH BOOK.

[kohaive]

[ archive 1/24 ]

[fireflyflits]

Bored work doodles

[chasseurdeloup]

Describe an NPC who is important to your character's story. Is this person still a part of your character's life? What are your character's feelings towards them? Have those feelings shifted, or have they always been constant?

META

MEET THE LANGLEYS

Claire Langley: Kaden's mom Faceclaim: Robin Wright Things are complicated between them. There's love underneath all of it, but there is a lot of resentment from Kaden and just hurt. After her husband died, Claire was determined to make sure that her family remained a singular unit, undivided. At any cost. She didn't care if that meant her children didn't always like her, she was trying to keep them safe and prepared them for the world. Because he was the oldest, Claire always pushed Kaden to be the best and then be better than that, always raising the bar just out of reach. She thought she was showing love that way, that pushing him in training would make him a better hunter and ensure his survival as well as that of the family.

She also pushed him to grow up faster than he should have had to, partially because he was a hunter, but partially because his father died. There was definitely some parentification happening here where he was expected to look out for his sister. And he was expected to do that while his mother put the two siblings on an uneven playing field and Keira gained the favor where Kaden gained the critique. She knew that Kaden had compassionate heart and did her best to try and harden it, which she thought was for the best for him. That didn't mean she wouldn't occasionally use it against him, manipulating his desire to help to push him in the direction she thought best.

Her view on the supernatural is very black and white. She sees the supernatural on the whole as a scourge that needs to be eradicated. In her eyes, it all only brings danger and destruction. Her family (and her late husband's family) have believed for generations that it is their duty to help protect humanity. Their codes are strict and Claire follows them -- That's how you ensure survival. There's a reason why the Langley and Durand names have survived while others haven't. She made sure to pass down the tradition to her children, to be as harsh and strict as she needed to in order to make them into hunters worthy of their legacy.

Keira Langley: Kaden's Sister Faceclaim: Rachel Keller Another extremely complicated relationship. Despite what she did and despite the fact that she disowned him, Kaden still loves his little sister a lot. That doesn't mean he trusts or likes her right now. He's honestly not sure if he'll be able to handle seeing her again.

Keira grew up in Kaden's shadow and constantly strived to be just as good as her big brother. He might have been taller and older and stronger, but that didn't matter. All she wanted was his approval and their mother's attention. Kaden got so much of it, even though it was mostly criticism and negative, that didn't matter to Keira. She wanted their mother to care about making her the best as much as she did Kaden. It was never easy for her to see that she was more or less placed on a pedestal and held above Kaden by Claire. It never felt like that on her side of the coin.

For a lot of their lives, the two siblings were the most consistent relationship they could rely on. They trained together, they went to hunter camps in the months off from school, and went on hunts with their mother. The two did have friends growing up but, for the most part, they were encouraged to only spend time with other hunters. They could go to other kid's houses, but any friends who weren't hunters weren't allowed in the Langley house. Claire never wanted to explain all the weaponry and strange old books filled with pages and pages about various monsters to any other nosey child's parents.

A lot of the time, Kaden would make breakfast for the both of them on school day mornings and made sure Keira had a lunch to take with her. Claire had plenty of work to do on top of her duties as a hunter and it wasn't easy supporting a household as a single parent. It left Kaden in a bit of a parentified position with his sister while they were also the only friends each other had sometimes. Claire didn't talk much about their father after he died, expect in context of training and Langley legacy, so the siblings took it upon themselves to keep the memory of their father alive. Observing some of the Jewish holiday traditions he taught them in his short time with them was one way they did that.

As much as Kaden tried to bring his sister along with him on his own journey to finding the shades of grey within their world of hunting and the supernatural, Keira wouldn't hop on board. She was too busy trying to win her mother's favor to question anything. Plus, she believes Claire, she believes the rest of their family around them. She believes what she's been taught her entire life and she's seen the destruction caused by the supernatural. She barely remembers her father because of the supernatural. She's put blinders on and has thrown herself in to being a carbon copy of their mother.

Kaden puts a lot of the blame for how she is now on his own shoulders for a lot of reasons. For one, he was told that he should look out for her and help take care of her and should make sure the family stays together. He's the reason the family is split, but some part of him thought that maybe he could open Keira's eyes a little and he could keep the chain from breaking. He worries that his approach is the reason why she couldn't see things for herself, that maybe if he had opened his own eyes sooner, that she could have been different, too. And maybe if he hadn't fallen into the trap his mother set for them, the one that kept them competing against one another, maybe then he'd have her trust. Maybe then she wouldn't have killed the one bright spot in his life just before telling him that he wasn't her brother and he sure as hell wasn't a Langley.

So yeah, absolutely zero family trauma and baggage. None.

[travelingreportersam]

Spotting the woman he was looking for at the hot chocolate line, Sam jogged up to her, a smile in place. "Hi, are you Claire Forbes? I'm Samuel Ahn from the Huntsville Daily. I've been following up on a bit of gossip that made it into our paper about the retirement home and I know you volunteer there if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions. I'll even buy your hot chocolate for your time."

@ambercast

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

THEYRE JUST SILLY GOOSES YOUR HONOR

I love him

[invsiblestringswrites]

claire's apartment under the cut <3

468 square feet.

[thelizaxevans]

closed - @clairexevansx

where - oceania bookshop

Liza always loved buying new books for her niece, wanting to get her all the ones Liza and Sterling loved as a child. She was currently on the hunt for Rainbow Fish when she realized....in a few months she'd be able to get books for her own child (and boy did that thought through her for a loop). and just as she was picking up the book for Sunny, she saw a familiar face and she smiled, immediately heading over to Wes' sister.

For a second she suddenly wondered if she was showing- but since finding out she was pregnant Liza made a point of wearing flowy, baggier clothes, making her little baby bump pretty much invisible. So she knew she was in the clear as she tapped the other girl on the shoulder.

"Hey stranger."

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

So today was the last day my students had secular studies. I am still going in to do secretary shit and to be fully trained in.

Which is to say, I'm exhausted.

So once more, I am offering a limited amount of choices.

Broken Eyes, Gentle Hands ( formally known as Mistress!Eve x Bunny!Agatha)

Moth Unwilling To Flame (formally known as Omega!Claire x Alpha!Jen)

June 2nd (Salem!harximoff -- formally known as Agatha's Belated Birthday Fic)

Today's except is going to be from June 2nd:

“You spent my birthday with me.” Wanda points out. “I wanted to spend yours with you.”

Agatha glances up, and finds Wanda looking serious.

“We're going to fix this.” The other witch decides. “You're not going to spend your birthdays moping around by yourself anymore.”

Agatha scowls.

“I'm not moping.”

Wanda raises an eyebrow.

“You're totally moping.”

“No, I'm wallowing. There's a difference.”

“Moping and wallowing are the same thing.”

“They are not.”

“They are!”

“Not!”

“No!”

And just like that, Agatha bursts out laughing.

She doesn't know where it's coming from, isn't sure if it's because the argument is so ridiculous, or if simply because it's Wanda, and Wanda has always managed to cheer Agatha up even with only her presence, but when Wanda laughs too, she luxuriates in the sound of it.

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, let me know!

Friends @fiore-della-valle @redbirdblogs @greenbergsays @idkfandomwhatever @luckyspike @obaewankenope @mad-madam-m @anonymousdandelion @geometricfractal @prettybirdy979 | Requests @aparticularbandit @madnessfromthemountains @makeroftherunes @not-orpheus @1attheedge @preetsramblings @whimsicalmeerkat @kidsomeday @lizhly-writes

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

Business Pleasure

Ship(s): Omega!Claire x Beta!Jen x Alpha!Agatha

Claire Debella x Jennifer Barkley, Claire Debella x Agatha Harkness, Jennifer Barkley x Agatha Harkness (implied), Claire Debella x Jennifer Barkley x Agatha Harkness

Summary: Claire's surpressents stop working. Again. And Jen is tired of not being enough.

Word Count: 3.2k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings: smut, general omegaverse shenanigans, fluff, heats, pet-names, praise, degradation

A/N: this is for both @getlostsquidward and @wandakink

I wrote this to prove a point

“Barkley, my office, now.”

Claire fights to make her voice sound even, and as a result, she just sounds angry, but she can't worry about that now.

Not when she's barely holding on to the last bits of self control she has, preventing her from finding the nearest alpha and begging them to take her.

Her hand tightens, knuckles turning white as grips the door frame, hissing as a wave of heat rolls over her.

“Now.” She stresses.

Jen looks up from where she's bent over one of the intern's shoulders, smirking, no doubt having been excessively flirting and making them feel uncomfortable.

“You're the boss.” Her mouth curves wickedly, and she straightens, brushing her side against Claire as she passes her into the governor's personal office, one hand typing away on her phone, as if Claire’s plight is nothing of her concern.

The door slams shut and Claire clicks the lock into place.

“Please tell me you're wearing your strap, the fucking surpressents aren't fucking working.”

Claire turns around, and immediately whimpers as she sees Jen has already taken off her pants, and is now busily unbuttoning her shirt.

“Undress if you want to be fucked so bad.” The campaign manager snaps.

Claire scrambles to obey, tugging at her dress zipper while also trying to kick her underwear off.

When the panties fall to the floor, there's a noticeable wet smack and she flushes with embarrassment.

Jen laughs, deep in her throat, and it makes Claire's knees go weak enough she has to stumble and lean against her desk to steady herself as her pussy throbs.

“Good girl, just bend over a bit more, and I can make you feel better.”

It's not even conscious, the way Claire immediately further bends over and spreads her legs, giving Jen better access and better view to her sopping wet cunt.

Hands find their place on her hips, and Jen presses herself firmly against Claire, her mouth near her ear.

“I need to hear you say how much of a cockwhore you are for me before I can fill this greedy fucking pussy of yours.”

Claire audibly moans, and humiliation rushes through her.

“Please.” She hates the sound of her begging, hates how she needs someone else to take care of her when the shitty over the counter suppressant stops working, hates how much she loves being humiliated like this. “Please, I'm just your dumb cockwhore, I need you in me so bad.”

Jen gives her sides a brief squeeze, before a hand slips, and a few moments later Claire throws her head back, her spine dipping as she arches, thrusting herself backwards to further take Jen’s length.

“Oh, fuck.” She whimpers.

Jen smacks her ass harshly.

“Shut up and take it, you fucking slut.” She growls. “You're so pathetic, just a stupid omega who thinks she doesn't need an alpha and instead begs for her beta, how desperate are you that you'd lower yourself like this, huh?”

Claire whines, her head steadily becoming fuzzier and fuzzier as the haze of her heat settles in, and Jen’s strap isn't even close to filling her up the way she craves, but she's the best Claire has right now.

Her slick is running down her thighs, and the sounds of Jen pounding into her echo around her office, the beta’s low grunts and sharp inhales occasionally puncturing through it, as Claire emits a stream of constant high pitched whines.

“More.” Claire gasps out, tears starting to gather as she desperately chases an orgasm. “Need more, please!”

Jen's hands find her hips again and her grip is bruising, before she cocks a leg onto the desk, and the new angle allows her to thrust deeper into Claire's gushing hole, and it pushes her over the edge.

“Fuck! Yes! Yes! Need you to breed me, want your pups, please, please, use me, fuck, fuck!”

Claire screams as she orgasms, but even as she rides her high, her body is not yet satisfied, and she bucks her hips back, chasing Jen’s strap.

Jen, however, doesn't seem to care, and she pulls away.

“No!” Claire whimpers. “Need more. Please, Jen.”

The governor turns around, with big wide eyes, and slowly sinks to her knees when she takes in Jen’s cold expression.

“I'm sorry, Jenny.” She softly cries. “I didn't- I didn't mean to say-”

She cuts herself off as Jen turns away, and silently opens the door.

Immediately, even through the haze in her mind, Claire has enough of her wit about her to dive out of view, her anxiety suddenly hitting her in her chest, and she's having a hard time breathing.

Her entire office reeks of sex and the scent of her heat Jen could make Claire lose her whole career by opening that door what is she doing what is she thinking Claire's going to fire her if she even is able to hold on to her job long enough to fi-

“I hadn't realized you made a habit of showing yourself off, Jennifer.”

A strong voice carries through the air, and cuts through Claire's panic.

She finds herself relaxing, a warm scent of something smokey crossed with vanilla reaching her.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up and get in here so I can close the door before Debella has a heart attack.”

Claire looks up from where she's knelt on the floor next to the filing cabinet she had ducked behind, and her mouth falls open in shock.

Agatha Harkness, CEO and one of Claire's biggest backers is standing in the room, a very noticeable bulge straining against her pants.

“What the… Jen, what the hell���s going on?”

Agatha's eyes don't leave Claire's naked form.

“Clearly Debella’s in heat.” Jen crosses her arms. “And I can't satisfy her the way she needs to be.”

“Can't fuck her right, you mean.”

Agatha's tone isn't mocking, it's full of wonderment as she gazes steadily down at Claire, causing her to shiver.

For her part, the omega can't seem to tear her eyes away from where Agatha’s hard on is clearly visible, body taunt as she waits for the alpha to show any sign that she'll be allowed to touch her.

The dark haired woman crouches down.

“Would you like that, little omega?” She quietly asks, sending arousal shooting straight through Claire. “Would you like for me to make you feel better?”

Claire's head feels loose as she eagerly nods.

Agatha smiles and leans in.

“Wait.”

Jen’s voice gives Agatha a pause.

“What?” The alpha snaps.

“Maybe you shouldn't. She's not… She's in heat. She can't really give consent.”

Jen scrambles, unsure why now she's suddenly concerned for Claire, but something is pounding against her chest telling her she needs to protect her omega.

Agatha scoffs.

“Everyone knows that if an omega doesn't want an alpha they'll make it clear.”

Jen opens her mouth to argue, but Claire's loud whine cuts her off.

“Need you.” She sobs. “Please, alpha.”

Agatha gives Jen a triumphant look, before reaching her hand out to Claire.

“Come, little omega, if I'm going to fuck you, I'm going to do it right.”

Claire whimpers at the promise, and grasps Agatha's hand with her own, yelping in surprise when Agatha suddenly pulls her up and flush against her, the show of strength making Claire's head spin.

“Alpha.” She cries against the other woman's chest, trying her best to grind her front against where she can feel Agatha's bulge pressing into her.

Strong arms encircle her, and two hands find their way against her bare ass, and Claire gets the message, wrapping her legs around the CEO’s waist.

“You can go, Jennifer. I have it from here.”

Agatha's low voice rumbles from above Claire.

“No. I'm not leaving.”

Jen's voice is firm.

“It's my job to make sure my candidate receives the best of everything, and that includes their needs being met.”

Agatha's muscles ripple as she shrugs.

Claire hadn't even realized the raven haired women had that sort of muscles.

“Just don't expect us to pay any attention to you.”

Agatha carefully bends over, and Claire's back presses against a smooth, cool surface.

“Let go, little one.” She murmurs, and Claire loosens her grip obediently.

The governor watches through half lidded eyes as Agatha tugs at her belt buckle, watches as Jen sighs and walks over, helping the other woman undress faster.

“I don't need-”

“Shut up, Harkness. We both know how this is going to end, and I want in.”

Agatha freezes at that, before slowly turning to meet the campaign manager's eyes.

“I thought you didn't do commitment.”

Jen huffs.

“I do now.”

There's a brief staring contest, before Agatha quirks an eyebrow.

“Well?”

Jen steps closer to Agatha, and tugs at her tie, loosening it, before slipping it over her head.

Agatha grins sharply.

“Good girl.” She praises, and Claire squirms as she watches Jen’s demeanor suddenly shift, becoming flustered.

“Why don't you help me with the rest?”

Claire can hear Jen's soft whimper, and she whines as the beta brushes her hands against Agatha's front, tugging her pants down.

“Patience, precious one.” Agatha soothes. “Jenny's just helping me get ready to fill you with my pups.”

Claire bites down on her lip, preventing herself from inadvertently making another noise, and risking making the alpha upset.

It isn't very long before all of Agatha's clothes are scattered on the floor, and Jen's hand is wrapped around the CEO’s dick, slowly jerking her off.

Claire fights the urge to squeeze her thighs together at the sight.

Agatha isn't necessarily huge but she's certainly thick.

Jen's thumb just barely meets her other fingers.

“Enough.”

Agatha's voice is strained.

Jen immediately lets go, and steps away.

Claire’s lip is bleeding from how hard she's been biting it to keep herself from crying out with need, and she loses the battle as she watches Agatha stalk over to where she's spread out on her own desk, a deep hunger in her eyes.

“I'm going to fuck you so well you won't be able to remember your own name.” The raven haired woman growls.

“Please! Please, alpha, I need you!”

“I know, princess. Keep those pretty legs open.”

Claire shivers with lust as she watches Agatha guide herself to her dripping entrance, and as soon as the alpha's tip brushes against her, Claire lets out an embarrassingly loud moan, bucking her hips.

“I need you.” She whimpers, and she feels her desperation slide down her cheeks, wet, hot tears trailing towards the sides of her head.

Instead of a verbal response, Agatha thrusts herself into Claire with one smooth motion, and the governor's back arches off of the desk as her eyes roll back, silently screaming from how good it feels to finally, finally be stuffed full.

And then Agatha carefully pulls back, before slamming back in, and suddenly Claire finds her voice as she cries out with pleasure.

Again and again, faster and faster Agatha fucks into Claire, making her shout herself hoarse as her pussy gushes around the alpha.

“Breed me, breed me, want your knot, fuck your omega, want your pups, make me carry them, oh FUCK, fu-! Use me as a cumdump, please, please, I'll be so perfect, just use me, make me cum, oh shit, Agatha!”

Claire's so sensitive, her heat having been building up for a while, and this is the first time she's felt an alpha's touch.

She feels like she's electric, and loses count of how many times Agatha pushes her over the edge.

Over and over Claire loses her ability to breathe, to think, to do anything more than laying there and taking whatever Agatha decided is good enough for her, and she's so lost in the haze of pleasure, she doesn't even realize it when Jen climbs onto the desk and places her legs on either side of Claire's head.

“Please, alpha.” Jen’s voice is dripping with need. “Let me ride our omega's face, please.”

“Our?” Agatha hisses, her tone dangerous.

“Yours!” Jen whimpers. “Please, please. I promise I'll be such a good beta for you and Claire.”

There's the sound of a muffled moan followed by wet kissing, and Jen’s core is now firmly pressed against Claire's face, grinding against her, and it's all she can do to stick out her tongue, let alone try to properly pleasure her.

But it seems that it's good enough for Jen, who must've pulled away from Agatha, because her moans are now loud and unrestrained.

Strong hands have a bruising grip on her waist, and somehow, Agatha manages to fuck into Claire even faster, her own moans just as noisy as Jen’s.

“Gonna fill you with my pups, gonna fucking breedy your filthy slutty hole, it's so fucking wet, gonna turn you into my perfect little cumdoll, gonna make you take my knot.” The alpha growls as she pounds into Claire.

The vibration of Claire's own moan seems to be the thing that sends Jen over the edge, and the beta suddenly goes still as she screams out her orgasm, and it's like a domino effect.

Agatha's knot is suddenly stretching Claire open almost painfully wide, and she soundlessly screams as Agatha groans in pleasure, spilling her seed in Claire.

The omega whimpers as Jen moves off of her, the beta hitting to floor hard, her knees weak from her orgasm, but Claire can't seem to focus on the other woman as Agatha gently slips her arms behind Claire's back, carefully sitting her up, her cock still buried deep within her.

Claire's legs once more encircle Agatha's middle, and the alpha takes a few steps back until she's sitting in the desk chair.

“Come here, Jen.”

Agatha's voice has no right to still sound so smooth after what just happened, and Claire whines as she buries her face into the crook of the CEO’s neck, inhaling her scent.

A second pair of soft gently land on her back.

“Claire.”

Agatha's voice is low and quiet, but demanding.

“Jen and I would like to claim you.”

Oh.

Reluctantly, Claire removes her head from against Agatha's neck, and meets her eyes as she worries her lip, a metallic tang filling her mouth.

“I promise, I won't let Harkness parade you around.”

Jen's voice softly says from right behind her.

Claire turns her head to meet Jen’s gaze.

“You… You both want me?”

Agatha's hold on her briefly tightens.

“You say that as if there wouldn't be a line out the door and down several city blocks if everyone knew you were looking for mates.”

Jen smiles, and it's a tender thing that Claire hasn't seen from her before.

It makes her heart flutter.

Admittedly, if she had thought Jen wouldn't have ran for the hills, Claire would have asked Jen to claim her long before now.

Instead, Claire had pushed away her feelings for the pretty campaign manager, well knowing that Jennifer Barkley only does casual flings.

Though in hindsight, the fact Jen has stuck around for more than a couple of years should have been an indicator that perhaps she was more open to the idea of commitment than Claire had originally been led to believe.

She turns back to look at Agatha, who cuts her off before she can even open her mouth.

“I promise, if you let me be your alpha, I won't do anything to jeopardize your career. I am more than content to keep our relationship private.”

Her deep blue eyes are honest.

And Claire does so badly desire someone to belong to, to have someone to be protective and possessive of her, to cherish and love her.

It must be written all over her face, because Agatha gives her a small smile, and brushes a strand of Claire's hair behind her ear before pressing a soft kiss against her forehead.

“Where do you want the marks?”

“She'll want them on display.”

Jen walks around a little, so she's within Claire's eyesight.

Claire flushes.

Jen isn't wrong.

“On your neck then, hm?” Agatha hums. “All anyone else will see is that you've finally decided to claim mates.”

“You're sure?”

The question isn't for Agatha, it's for Jen, and Jen nods.

Claire can feel her anxiety swirl in her stomach, but she can't deny the excitement she's feeling either.

She tilts her head in silent invitation, exposing the side of her neck.

Agatha gives her forehead another kiss.

“Go on, Jen. You should claim her first.”

Gentle hands come to rest on her shoulders, and the scent of citrus and jasmine fills the air.

“It's going to hurt, princess.” Jen warns.

Claire shivers.

“It's okay. I want you. Both of you.”

Jen's right, it does hurt, and it's all Claire can do to keep herself still as the sharp pain races up and down her neck and shoulder.

It's all she can do to keep still as arousal from the pain goes straight to her core, and Agatha groans as Claire twitches around her cock.

When Jen licks at the bite, Claire loses the battle, and she whines, squirming as her floating headspace comes rushing back.

Agatha's chuckle rumbles against where Claire is pressed into her.

“My turn, little omega.”

Obediently, Claire tilts her head the other way, and it's like Agatha's teeth are magnetically pulled towards her neck, and Claire cries out with how harshly Agatha bites her.

To Claire's shock, Jen's hand soothing rubs at her back as she gently hushes Claire.

“Shhhh… It's okay, princess. It's almost over.”

Claire whimpers, but quiets, and Agatha peppers kisses along her neck when she pulls away.

“You did so good for me, precious one.” She husks out.

It's all Claire can do to force herself to nod, before she collapses forward, burying her head back against Agatha's neck.

“Agatha.” Jen catches the alpha's attention. “I'm going to call for the car to pull around.”

Claire's heart drops, and she pulls away, her head spinning, anxiety as always pushing pushing pushing at her.

“How- how are we going to- to-”

“I'm going to clear the office floor by pulling the fire alarm.”

Claire whips her head around and immediately regrets the way it pulls at the marks, causing a fresh wave of pain.

Agatha, however, only laughs.

“I'll never understand why people find you so frightening, Jenny.”

Jen huffs.

“Just because it's an immature move, doesn't mean it's a bad one.”

Agatha grins.

“I believe the headmaster had used the terms ‘adolescent’ and ‘childish’.”

Jen rolls her eyes and starts looking around the office for her phone.

Claire slowly turns back and rests her head against Agatha's shoulder, carefully keeping her breaths even and calm.

She can trust her alpha and beta to take care of her.

It's a new concept, and she still feels overwhelming anxiety trying to convince her to freak out, but Agatha's steady hands tangling through her hair and the sound of Jen rapidly talking into her phone grounds her, and for the first time in many years, Claire fully lets go of her need for control.

Agatha and Jen have everything handled.

Her mates.

She closes her eyes, content.

She's finally no longer alone.

[artsy-sunny]

beloved ocs smiles

[kohaive]

[ archive 7/24 ]

[fireflyflits]

Vampire pinup

[invsiblestrings]

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

I need her so bad oh my gof

Ohhhhhh requests hehe nice

Spare some alpha!claire and omega reader bit please, if it tickles the muse? I have no idea about the setting, maybe reader helps her with the campaign or miles got everyone on the island an omega to further relax during the weekend? Some sweet thing desperate to please cause if the assigned person isn't happy, miles isn't happy, and that is ... not good. And god knows Claire needs it, being a single mom running a campaign... 👀

Or something else dark, whatever comes to your mind! Have a good day!

fated

pairing: alpha!claire debella x omega!reader

a/n: hey anon! i hope i gave your request justice, my writing's a bit rusty hehe enjoyy

warnings: smut, omegaverse, alpha!claire, knotting, breeding, oral (r receiving), overstimulation, lil bit innocence kink, choking (briefly-not in a sexy way), men being assholes

summary: claire takes home with her a little more than memories from this greek island getaway.

“The rooms are named after chakras, your biorhythm is your key, get changed, settle, and let's have an afternoon by the pool before the real party begins,” Miles explains, as the wristbands glow with each of their chakras. Most of them go to their assigned rooms when he added: “...and there's a special surprise for you waiting in there. Thank me later.”

Claire and Birdie looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders, having no idea what it is this time.

Much to Claire's surprise, a very pretty present awaits her, sitting on her heels in the middle of the bed. The short frilly summer dress you're wearing compliments you very well, not to mention it's in her signature color, as is your collar engraved in the words ‘Claire's property.’

You stay with your head down low, waiting for your new owner to regard you in any way.

What a good girl.

This is, by far, the best trip Miles had organized. 

Claire closes her eyes and breathes in, letting the Greek island wind soak her stress and worries when a faint smell in the room catches her nose.

It's faint, but it's there. 

She walks into the room, taking her sun visors off, as she gets closer to where the scent is most potent — and she can feel her cock twitch when she realized it was coming from your slick.

Claire bends a little and tips your chin up with the visor, searching your eyes for something, anything. She could see the way your pupils widened just with the intense eye contact, how your pupils dilated, how your lips parted ever so slightly,  how your throat bobbed up and down as you swallowed. 

Despite the clear attraction on your part (and hers), she could feel how nervous you are. She puts her sun visor on your head backward, caressing your warmed cheeks with her knuckles. “Do you have a name, darling?”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Unlike the rest of the disruptors who have their omegas on a leash, Claire takes you by the hand, your palm cold against hers. When she refused to take the leash, she didn't miss the shy, small smile your lips painted as you thanked her.

Comments were thrown at her, saying omegas should/ be on a leash to keep them behaved, for them to be constantly reminded who they belonged to; but Claire disregarded all of them. She kept you close, patting the side of the bed, sharing the small space with her—until two of her friends decided to join her, with the blonde woman ordering all of you to move.

The three of you decided to sit one bed away from them as they chatted. You could hear the two whispering to each other how their alphas were with them, and all you could do was stare at Claire with great awe. 

You're thankful that you went to an alpha like her.

Prior to this weekend, someone had given you a brief introduction to your assigned alpha. Initially, you're scared, given all the politician stereotypes, even if she is a woman. If anything, she's the exact opposite of them all.

The more you look at her, the more you feel your heat starting to make you feel hazy — and you're worried if you're good enough for the dear governor to breed.

Lost in thought, you didn't notice the tall muscular man towering over the three of you.

“You.” He hooks a finger to your collar, choking out a gasp from you. The man looks at the tag on your collar. “Claire's, huh? Did she take care of your heat already? Want an alpha more capable of breeding you?”

You're shaking, terrified, but you can't even do anything because here, you are just breeding holes. Brought on this island to please this alpha pack, and holes don't speak. Above all, Miles himself had said: I don't care if another alpha wants to claim you other than the assigned. It's up to them to take responsibility for their property.

He grins when he sees how your lip trembles, leaning down slowly towards your nape—

And the pressure on your neck is gone, followed closely by a loud water splash.

“Do not touch what's mine, Duke. This is your only warning.” Claire stands at the edge of the pool, pointer finger sharply pointed at the man. “You'd do well to remember that.”

You're still trembling, but not because of fear anymore.

She guides you away from the pool area wordlessly, keeping your gaze trained on her hand tightly wrapped around your wrist. 

None of her friends dared to stop Claire, her rage keeping everyone at bay.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

As soon as you get to the comfort of her room, Claire all but pushes you into the bed, her chest still heaving as she straddled your middle. Her eyes are still burning, though it wasn't directed at you. She's zoning out.

Claire was just happy bragging about you to her friends, a sweet little thing that you are when Birdie's voice cut her off. “Claire...”

And then all she saw was red, because no one, not even her closest friends, can touch what's clearly fucking hers, and they should know better than to do so because she swears they will not see the light of day—

“Mistress?” 

Your small voice grounds her to this moment, reminding her that you're here, that no one had snatched you up right under her nose before she can even officially mark you as hers. No one can.

She lets you tuck a stray hair behind her ear, the faint red mark on your wrist that her grip left catching her eyes. This time, gently, she brings it to her lips. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” you say, eyes shimmering with adoration. “Thank you, mist–”

Claire's soft lips caress yours for a second before she pulls away. Her bright blue eyes stare at yours, then at your lips, and back to your eyes, and back to your lips again.

You brush your nose against hers, voice hoarse as you whisper. “Please.”

“Your lips taste good, princess. I wonder…” she trailed off, face hovering along the valley of your breast and stomach, the slightest touch of the tip of her nose trailing making you shiver. She stops at the hem of your dress, eyes never once wavering off yours. “...no, I'm sure you're as sweet as you smell.”

Without another word, she dove into your cunt like a feast, the lack of any underwear a relief to you both.

Claire's cock ached to be freed out of its confines with your sex so graciously served to her on a silver platter. A pure omega, never been touched, holes clenching around nothing as you anticipate her touch.

“Fuck me like the whore that I am, mistress!”

An untouched omega with a dirty mouth? Well.

She smirked. You will be fucked like the whore that you are, but she needs you to produce as much slick as possible, not wanting your first time to hurt — but the thought that she will be the first person to ever fuck your cunt, the way she can see how goosebumps arise on your skin at the unfamiliar sensation of someone else's hands touching and prodding on your most intimate and sensitive parts has her head clouded with stormy lust, all focused on how she can destroy you, your tight little holes, and breed you round until you can't walk.

She uses her tongue to fuck your hole, her nose so deliciously rubbing against your puffy clit. She smiles to herself with how wet you're getting, with how desperate you sound. Claire didn't take too long to bring you your orgasm, and another, and another until she deemed you ready to take her cock.

Claire looks at you fondly, caressing your cheek with the back of your hand. Your eyes are glazed over with how fucked out you were, your hair a mess, the pretty marks and bruises she painted across the canvas of your skin.

She's barely even starting.

“I'm ready, mistress. ’M ready to be filled up…” you say with adoration, nuzzling your head against her touch. 

Claire coos, “Aww, sweet baby. Are you, really? You think you can take mistress' cock? You think it will fit your tight pussy?” She then claws her swimsuit off of her, sighing as she strokes her cock. 

You swallow as you see how thick and girthy she was, and Claire sees the way fear has flashed in your eyes. “I know it's scary and I know you're thinking about how my cock will fit you, do you still want it?”

A blink and your eyes once again gloss over with lust, nodding eagerly. 

“Good girl.”

Claire wants to flip you ass up face down, but she also wants to see the tears slipping the corner of your eyes once her cock enters you so she spreads your legs once more, rubbing her length against your clit and pussy lips before aligning the tip in your tight hole.

“You ready, baby?”

Claire takes your nod as a go signal, pushing her cock inside your pussy so slowly, you could feel every inch of her filling you and stretching your walls. She doesn't miss the tear that escape your eyes as you feel the burn of your alpha finally taking your cunt. She wipes it with her thumb, singing praises to your ear. “You're doing so well, my lovely omega. This pussy was made for my cock.”

She's fully sheathed inside you, and as much as she wants to start thrusting into you, she needs to know how you're feeling. Claire was a little worried by how you'd been quiet for the past few minutes save from your little whimpers and gasps.

Before she can ask, you beat her to it. “You're so big, mistress! But I can take it, you're right, my pussy is made for you. Please fuck me, please!”

Claire's cock twitches with how desperate you are and starts ramming her dick into your hole. The scream that you let out was music to her ears, and she intends to hear a fucking orchestra.

She grunts as she feels your hips move to meet hers, your breasts beautifully bouncing with her every thrust. She palms your mounds and pinches your stiff buds, letting another whine escape your lips. Your mouth was barely closed as she fucks you, all the moans downright pornographic, and her chest swelled with pride. She spits into your mouth, and you make a show of you swallowing it, making her thrust harder, a bulge forming on your belly with how deep she is. 

“Mmm, fuck, mistress! More, please!” You clench around her cock as she hits that special spot, making your back arch from the pleasure. You've never been more addicted to this feeling, full of your beloved alpha's cock, getting fucked for the first time like a good omega deserves, like you deserve.

You ask, and Claire delivers. She kept hitting that spot in hopes of you clenching around her again, feeling her knot starting to swell. Claire's all set to shoot all her load into you, nothing but feral thoughts in her lust-filled head. You wrap your legs around her waist to keep her close, feeling your own orgasm close.

“This pretty little pussy is mine, you hear me? No one else's.”

“I'm yours...I want to be yours, mistress! Please, please! Let me cum!”

“You want to be mine, lovely girl? You want mistress to breed you?” Claire whispers, her hot breath against your ear adding more fuel to the heat between your legs. 

“Yes! Yes please, mistress. I want your pups...”

“If you want my pups, I'll have to take you home with me. You'll be by my side, forever. Would you like that?”

“I'd like nothing more, mistress.”

“Good girl. Now take all of me and cum, baby. Go on, cum for mistress.”

Like it's meant to be, you cum as your alpha says. Claire follows right after, her knot adding more stimulation to your sensitive cunt. The way her thick release fills you to the brim makes you feel like you're floating, too blissed out with the intense pleasure you've just experienced. 

You let Claire lay above you, her face nuzzling your neck. She doesn't pull out, not yet. She has to make sure not one drop of her cum is wasted.

She sighs, satisfied, as she smells her scent covering your body. She presses an open-mouthed kiss on your throat, just above the collar tag where her name is.

You wrapped your arms around her and whispered, “Thank you, mistress. That was…I don't even know how to describe it. It's beyond words,” you pause, feeling brave as you lifted her chin and stole a bashful kiss. “I'm glad you're my alpha.”

You feel her smile against your skin. “Me too, darling. Me too. Now get rest as much as you can, because I'm not done with you.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

All good things come to an end, but not what you and Claire had found with each other on this island. The two of you weren't even able to enjoy the full beauty this place had to offer as you remained cooped up in Claire's room, blessing every corner with spit, sweat, and cum.

“You ready to go home, baby?”

When she didn't hear you respond, she found you looking at distant strange people in the faraway part of the island.

Claire gently whisks your hand away, effectively leading your attention away from Miles' people burying Duke's body.