#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.

[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

[artsy-sunny]

beloved ocs smiles

[invsiblestrings]

[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]

Princess

Ship: Claire Debella x Reader

Summary: Claire's stressed, and she's very obviously not wearing a bra underneath her dress... Understandably you can't help but want to rail your wife.

Word Count: 3.6k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings: smut, fluff, daddy kink, choking (technically), vibrators, strap-ons, humiliation, degradation, praise, pet-names (general, sexual)

Claire moans softly as you press your thumbs against her clothed nipples.

“My little one is such a whore.” You coo. “Wearing a dress like this without a bra? Really babe? It's like you want me to bend you over the nearest available surface and fuck you dumb.”

Claire shivers. “I thought you liked it when I wore things like this.”

You move your thumbs away slightly to admire how clearly her pebbled peaks can be seen through her off-white dress.

“You brought the vibrator, right?” You check.

Claire nods easily. “Yes.”

“Yes, who?” You nudge.

Claire flushes, and she glances around before whispering, “yes, daddy.”

“What was that?” You question, grinning wickedly. “I didn't catch it.”

Claire shifts her weight, fidgeting with the skirt of her dress, swallowing hard.

“Yes, daddy.” She repeats.

Her voice is still quiet, but it's loud enough someone could overhear.

You hope someone does. These so-called friends of hers need to be reminded that Claire is actually wanted by someone.

“Good girl.” You purr. “Let's get to our room.”

“Right now? With a murderer on the loose?” Claire is scared, you can tell by the way her voice pitches and how her fingernails dig into her arms.

“Right after- Duke?”

You instantly soften.

“Do you want us to? You can say no, lovebug.”

She pushes a hand through her hair.

“Is it bad that I do?”

You blink, before rushing to reassure her. “No, babe, no. Everyone copes differently.” You pause, judging the look on your wife's face before offering, “let me make you feel better.”

After a few moments of silence, Claire takes your hand in hers, pulling you along as she carefully checks the corners on the way to the shared room Miles assigned the pair of you.

When you get there, it’s ransacked, but when Claire starts to say something about it, you shake your head.

“Worry later.” You say. “Let's find the vibrator and worry about the rest of this later.”

Turns out, you didn't have to look very hard, the bright pink toy having been dumped out of Claire's bag onto the bed.

You shove everything else off.

“Some of that is expensive!” She protests.

“And they'll still be expensive for having been on the floor.”

Claire frowns.

You sigh.

“Do you want me to pick it up?”

She bites her lip.

“Maybe.”

Despite how annoyed you act, you really don't mind bending down and scooping everything up, depositing them on the cushionless couch.

“Alright, is this better, kitten?” You ask.

Claire nods in approval. “Thank you.”

You tilt your head in acknowledgement.

“Get on the bed.”

Claire obeys, crawling towards the headrest and giving you a view of her ass that has you groaning with lust.

“God, your body is perfect.” You can't refrain from commenting. “Daddy’s going to wreck it, she's going to you ruin you for anyone else.”

Your wife whines at your words as she settles against the pillows, legs falling as open as they can within the constraints of the dress, giving you a little peak.

She's not wearing any underwear.

“Claire.” You breathe out.

She smirks, and it sends a throb of arousal through you.

“Yes, daddy?” She asks coyly.

“You naughty kitten.” You meet her eyes briefly, before flicking yours back down. “You absolute naughty girl.”

“I thought you might have wanted to play with me at dinner.” She admits. “I just want to be your good girl. You know that.”

Your entire body shivers with want at her words.

“You're such a fucking slut.”

And suddenly you're crashing your mouth against hers in a bruising kiss, and the moan she releases into your mouth has you slipping your tongue into hers and fucking her with it as best as you can.

Her hands harshly grip at your back as they tug you closer to her, pulling you between her legs, and she whimpers as one of your knees presses against her exposed center.

You tangle a hand into her hair, and slide the other one underneath her to clutch at the back of her neck, using the leverage to press harder against her, and you reveal in the pathetic noises she makes, how desperately she tries to both kiss you and attempt to grind her core up and down against your knee.

She finally tries to pull away, but you won't let her, making her hands stop tugging at you, and instead lightly hitting you, demanding air.

You only tighten your grip on her, and wait a few more seconds before allowing yourself to be parted from her, panting breathlessly as you stare deep into Claire's eyes.

They're so blown with lust there's hardly any bit of blue to be spotted anymore, just bottomless black pits of utter want.

“You want daddy to make you feel good?” Your voice comes out husky, and Claire's eyes flutter shut at the sound of it. “Look at me when you answer me.” You chide.

She whimpers, but listens, and you reward her with a soft kiss.

“Good girl.” You whisper. “Now give me an answer, kitten.”

“Please.” She begs. “Wanna feel good.”

“Of course, princess.” You gently tug her into a sitting position, fumbling for her dress zipper.

She wouldn't be happy if you simply tore it off of her, no matter how erotic she may have found it.

Claire gently pushes you away, and stands on wobbly legs, allowing you to properly unzip her.

In one easy movement, your wife is now standing totally naked as her dress pools around her bare feet.

“Let me undress you, daddy.” She begs, her eyes heavily lidded as your own roam over the expanse of freshly revealed skin.

You smile at her, and settle onto the bed, leaning backwards on your forearms, causing your chest to be slightly pushed out.

“By all means.” You invite.

Claire can't seem to undo your dress shirt buttons fast enough, and one of them pops off, causing her to pause.

“The shirt's ruined now, might as well.” You encourage her, and her panicked look fades as something far more sinful takes its place as she tears the rest of the shirt off of you, leaving your top half exposed in the white colored lace bra you had chosen for tonight.

A startled breath of air escapes you as Claire latches her mouth onto the tiny bit of exposed area of your breasts, and you moan loudly, teasing her as she nips and sucks at you, being sure to leave behind a mark before pulling away.

“Please, daddy.” She begs breathlessly. “Fuck me.”

You smirk. “You have to get me out of these pants first, kitten.”

Claire moves to undo your belt buckle, when her hands still and her eyes widen.

Your smirk grows impossibly wider.

“You'll have to wait to take daddy's cock, princess.” You coo. “She wants to prepare you with the vibrator first.”

She audibly swallows, before continuing what she was doing, unlatching the buckle and tugging it apart, allowing your pants to become loose enough for you to gracelessly wiggle out of them with her help.

Claire's eyes don't just latch on how the large pink strap springs free, and you laugh softly at how round her eyes have gone, and her gaze shifts.

You meet Claire's eyes, still smirking.

“Seems we both had the same idea, huh, baby?”

The air is cool on your exposed center, the only piece of clothing still on you is your bra.

Your wife isn't the only one that discarded the idea of wearing any panties.

Her mouth is parted, hanging slightly open, and you can see as all thought drains from her, can tell the exact moment something more primal takes over her control.

“Fuck me.”

It's not a beg, it's a command.

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Don’t be impatient.” You reprimand. “At least remember your manners.”

You reach a hand behind you to unclasp your bra, tossing it somewhere behind you.

“Pass me the vibe, and then get onto the bed and spread your legs.”

Eyes wide, your wife obediently does as you instruct, and you can't help but fixate on the way she slowly drips onto the bed sheets.

“I haven't even touched you yet, and you're so needy.” You taunt. “Are you really such a slut, so desperate and horny?”

Claire only whines in response.

“Aww… Has my precious little one gone all fuzzy headed?” You mock, exaggerating a pout. “Has my baby lost all her words?”

Claire whines again, and it sends a throb of arousal through you.

“Do you think you can stay still for daddy so that she can touch you?” You ask. “Does my kitten think she's big enough?”

Desperately, she nods, and you laugh condescendingly at her.

“Okay, babe, but that means you have to follow through, or else daddy’ll have to spank you.”

Claire nods a second time, and nearly cries with relief as you close the distance between you and her, clicking the vibrator on.

But instead of bringing it down to where she needs it the most, you decide to focus on her nipples.

“No!” She protests, trying to jerk away from the pink toy.

You immediately pull back and arch a brow.

“No?” You question. “I thought you said you'd be able to take it, like a big girl.”

Claire bites her lip.

“Oh, did you think I was going to make you cum? Is that it? Did you think daddy was going to be nice?”

Her face turns red at your mocking tone.

“‘M sorry.” She mumbles. “I'll be good.”

You hum noncommittally. “We'll see.”

This time, Claire tenses, but stays still as you gently hovor the vibrator over a tit.

She stifles a cry as you finally allow it to make contact with the sensitive skin, and you frown at her.

“You know better than to hold yourself back, kitten.” You admonish. “Daddy always wants to hear what sort of job she's doing.”

A whimper works its way out of your wife at your words and you nod, satisfied.

And then you shift the vibrator, going from circling her areola to gently teasing her nipple, and Claire screams.

You groan. “Fuck, baby, you sound so pretty.”

Her hips buck, clearly searching for friction that you know she won't find, and you switch sides, making her scream again.

She's always so sensitive and loud, always unable to keep from giving away any pleasure she may be receiving.

Claire bucks her hips, desperate for some friction as she starts to sob at how painfully her nipples have quickly become, but you don't let up, only making a sound of disapproval before moving to straddle her so that her range of motion becomes limited.

“Daddy's not going to stop until you cum, princess.” You husk out. “She's going to make her baby all dumb and brainless.”

Claire's head thrashes about as she desperately tries to ground herself, her moans and screams echoing loudly enough you're positive someone will come running, thinking someone was hurting Claire.

You grin viciously.

Let her asshole friends see the things your tightly-wound wife allows you to do to her. Let them gawk as you bring Claire to the peak of the highest of pleasure over and over and over again.

“DADDY! FUCK!”

Claire finds the words as she cums from her nipples being stimulated alone, and her essence spills from her now weeping cunt.

“You're so beautiful, kitten.” You praise, gently pressing a soft kiss to her slightly sweaty temple. “I want you to get out one more for me, alright? Two orgasms, one for each side, and then daddy will fill you up with her strap, okay, baby?”

Your wife whines, but manages to nod her consent, and you dip your head down to gently suck at the nipple that had yet to be paid proper attention to, before switching, using the vibrator on the now wet bud, and softly sucking on the overly sensitive one.

It's not long before you can hear Claire sobbing out a second orgasm, her fingers tangling in your hair, desperately trying to get you away from her now painfully overstimulated tits.

You pull away, smirking at her as you shut the vibrator off and toss it somewhere along the bed, and she whimpers.

“P’ease.” She begs. “Wa’ you.”

“Big girl words.” You chide.

Claire often loses her ability to properly speak. The deeper in subspace, the harder it is for her to find the words and then get them out.

Your wife lets out a small sob.

“Need you.” She pathetically whines. “Need you in me.”

“Aw, princess.” You pout. “Do you need daddy's cock in you? You need to feel her filling you up and use you like a fuckdoll?”

“P’ease!” Claire cries out. “Wanna be your slut!”

“Oh, kitten.” You coo breathlessly. “Daddy is so happy to make that happen.”

You shift so Claire can now spread her legs, before you carefully line your strap up with her sopping wet pussy.

“You're all red and puffy for me, little one.” You press a kiss against her neck. “Are you ready?”

Your wife nods eagerly.

“Please.” She carefully pronounces.

You laugh lightly.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

You've hardly finished speaking before you enter Claire with one thrust, her soaking wet hole eagerly taking you in one go, and her moan is obscene.

“Fuck, kitten.” You bury your head into the crook of her neck, taking a moment to allow Claire to get used to the feeling of having your strap inside her, before lifting your head so that you can pull nearly all the way out, before slamming back in.

Claire's back arches and she somehow screams louder than she has all night.

“That's it, slut. Let daddy hear how good you're being fucked. Let her hear what a good job she's doing ruining her precious princess.” You growl, and you find yourself with one of your hands gently pressing against her neck.

The moan your wife lets out short circuits you, and you're thrusting hard enough the bed starts shaking in time with them.

“God, you're such a fucking whore. Taking daddy's cock so well like this, fuck. What would the world say if they knew what a fucking slut you are, hm? Would you like that? Would you like to know how many people would be so quick to say how badly they want to turn the big bad Claire Debella over their knees? I'll bet you'd love that, being handed out for anyone's free use, listen to how fucking pathetic you sound.”

You're merciless as the words spill from you, and Claire's eyes roll into the back of her head, the top half of her body arching so high off the bed you're a little surprised her spine doesn't snap in two.

“Fuck. Fuck.” You curse as your wife's scream cuts itself off halfway through, and you know she's cumming again.

You don't stop, brutally pounding into her as her hands viciously claw at your back, and you're sure it'll leave cuts behind, for all that your wife keeps her nails shorn, they've always been sharp, even short.

“What the hell…”

Your head snaps in the direction of the door, and you find Lionel standing in the middle of the doorway, eyes wide as he takes in the scene.

You smirk as you see Birdie pop her head around his shoulder.

“What, like I'd let anything hurt her.” You scoff, not stopping your movements for a moment.

Just because you got caught doesn't mean you feel the shame in it.

“Now if you'd please leave? I'm in the middle of something very important here.”

“Wouldn't it be more fun if we joined?”

“No.” You and Lionel somehow share an exasperated glance at Birdie's suggestion.

Claire's whisper gets your attention.

“Daddy.”

Her face is bright red, and her eyes are watering with tears.

You haven't even realized you had stopped your motions.

“It's okay, Claire bear.” You soothe. “They were just leaving.”

Your wife swallows, but nods, before looking at her two friends expectantly.

You know there's a shared history between the three of them, from before you had come along.

You expect Claire to think you're upset at her for them having taken a look because of that, rather than truly having accepted her past with the two of them.

“Leave.” You say when they don't move, their eyes still glued to Claire's naked form. “I'm not asking.”

Lionel shakes his head then, looking embarrassed, tugs Birdie away, who keeps her eyes on Claire until Lionel shuts the door behind them.

“Well.” You turn back to Claire. “That could've been worse. It could've been Blanc. Or Miles.” You lean down and press a gentle kiss to Claire's lips, to convey you're not upset. “Are you alright, lovebug? Do you want to continue?”

She nods shakily. “Wanna forget.” She whispers.

“You sure? It's okay to stop if you want to, Claire.”

She nods again, more strongly this time. “Make me forget.”

“Your wish is my command, princess.” You whisper back, and Claire gives a small smile before you crash your lips against hers while simultaneously resuming the way your hips had been driving your strap deep into her.

Her moans and gasps are swallowed by your mouth, your tongue exploring every inch she has to offer, and you can tell she's close by the way her hands harshly grip your shoulders.

You break off the kiss.

“Cum for me, kitten. Let go. Daddy's got you.” You roughly say.

Your words are like magic, and Claire sobs as her orgasm overtakes her.

“Gonna keep fucking you until you can't think.” You growl as Claire's hands push against the expanse of your upper chest, clearly becoming overstimulated and over sensitive. “That's what daddy's baby wanted, right? To forget? Then let daddy do this for you, kitten.”

“Daddy!” Claire cries out. “Fuck!”

You chuckle low in your throat. “Such a filthy fucking mouth my little one has.” You tease. “How would you feel if daddy forced it quiet, hm, kitten? You want daddy to fuck your throat the way she's fucking your fucking slutty pussy?”

Your wife screams as you thrust particularly harshly into her, and then she's gone again, convulsing around you as she comes undone yet again, and she starts sobbing as you refuse to let up, watching her face in awe.

It must be something about this particular situation you've found yourselves in that Claire is able to cum over and over again so easily like this, with hardly any build up in between each one.

Your hand finds its way back around her neck as you taunt her.

“You like the fact we got caught, didn't you?” You laugh. “You're such a fucking attention whore. You love the idea of someone walking in again and finding you too stupid to do anything more than lay here and take. Every. Bit.” You punctuate your words by brutal pounding in and out, brushing against Claire's g-spot as her eyes roll wildly as her head tosses every which way, despite the hand you have around her neck.

Words seem to have finally fully left your wife, and the only sounds coming from her are ones of primal pleasure, and you reach your free hand down in order to rub gently at her swollen clit.

Once more, Claire screams as she orgasms, her body arching as she bucks her hips against you, before she suddenly falls limp, her eyes fluttering shut.

You can't help feeling self satisfied as you carefully, carefully pull out of her, watching with deep fascination as her hole continues to gush as her body twitches.

You lay a tender kiss against her now thoroughly sweaty temple.

“I'll be right back, lovebug.” You promise softly, even though you know she won't hear you, slipping off the bed and headed into the bathroom, finding a washcloth and running it under warm water, before returning to Claire, who's breathing has evened out.

Gently, you start running the washcloth over her sticky inner thighs, before working your way over her core.

Claire whines softly, but when you glance up, she's still out cold.

“I'm just cleaning you up, princess.” You soothe. “I know you're sensitive, but daddy just wants to be sure you don't get all icky.”

You keep talking in a low, reassuring voice as you finish your task, when Claire's voice rasps out.

“Thank you.”

You meet her blissed out gaze and smile indulgently.

“Of course, lovebug. Let me finish, and then we'll cuddle, alright?”

“Mmmmkay.” Your wife hums cutely, and you can't resist pressing a loving kiss against the warm skin of her thighs.

You go over a few areas that still seemed a bit sticky, before tossing the cloth in the same direction you had tossed the vibrator earlier.

“Okay, Claire bear.” You hush out, moving upwards until you can comfortably settle against the pillows, pulling Claire close to you, against your chest.

“I love you.” She whispers into your skin.

“I love you.” You reply, kissing the crown of her head. “Now rest, little one. You deserve to relax. I've got you, I promise.”

Your wife adorably sighs against you, and you can feel your own eyes closing as the sound of Claire's gentle breathing soothing you to sleep.

You know it won't be a long nap, but a break, especially for Claire, from all the stress can only serve to help, not harm.

And for right now, for these few, precious moments, there's no one else in the world but for the two of you, intertwined.

[fireflyflits]

Vampire pinup

[thefrsers]

SamCait | Outlander New York Comic Con 2024

[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.

[invsiblestrings]

[invsiblestringswrites]