#claire debella smut

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Sinking My Claws Into You ~Dark!Claire Debella xFem Younger!Wealthy!Reader

Summary— A darker fic, set after Claire gets back from Miles’ private island, and she now has to deal with the reality of basically going bankrupt. Luckily, Claire has got her hooks in you, a young, wealthy enthusiast from New York…

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: dark fic, lightly implied smut, age gap (all legal), teasing, taunting, manipulation, alcohol consumption, unrequited feelings, little bit of gold digging behavior, praise, flustering, wealth, yucky men, flirting, little bit of sugar mommy behavior, etc.

Enjoy (;

Ever since Claire had backed away from her friendship with Miles, she had hit nothing but impossible obstacles one after another. Without Miles’ endorsement and backing for her campaign for the U.S. Senate, the middle aged woman was facing a fate worse than death. She would have happily rode on the back of Miles’ wealth all the way, but she couldn’t ignore the events that had come to pass. However, her decision now left the woman desperate.

Miles was an eccentric prick whom Claire had met more than 20 years ago. Back then, he had charmed her. And being the young, naive woman that she was, Claire had fallen for his persuasive nature. Not to mention how easy it was considering he was loaded. But Miles never wanted anything more than a friendship from Claire, and Claire eventually was forced to accept this by the amount of pretty models and talented girls that he always had in rotation and the overtly harsh rejection he gave her, which the snob was always happy to remind her of. Over the years, the only reason Claire put up with Miles was for the money. Miles had endorsed her when she ran for mayor, and then now for governor as well.

Miles was always there to dole out a check for whatever the woman needed. And Claire took full advantage of that. The price she paid over the years was well worth the bank she raked in. Miles would compare her to others and batter Claire all the time, she was his favorite plaything. But she always took it with a stoic face, telling herself that it would be worth it, that the amount of money she was getting leveled out the fact that he was a knee-faced jerk.

But then she and Claire had had a falling out. Claire had gone behind her back and stabbed a mutual friend in the back. And if there was one thing that Claire could not stand, it was betrayal. In the heat of the moment, Claire let emotions get the best of her and she broke it off. God she kicked herself for being friends with Miles for as long as she had been… It had been over 2 decades of unhealthy friendship, but in her eyes, the money had made it all worth it. But now, without Miles’ money… She was through. Finished. Done.

That was until she met you.

Claire had met you at an art benefit, one of those fancy events where the rich and wealthy got together, socialized, and gave away millions of dollars like it was nothing. Claire had been there campaigning for more funding and endorsements. She had already talked with three or twelve basic, filthy rich white guys, the kind that flashed toothy smiles while heavily and shamelessly flirting with her. She would indulge these men as little as possible, before moving past them. Those guys weren’t the type she was looking for. They weren't a Miles or a Y/N Astor… Claire rolled her eyes and shrugged off her disgust at the idea of what those rich guys wanted from her.

After a particularly gagging interaction with a young bachelor (at least half her age and nonetheless just as gross as the rest of them who only wanted her body and willing to give nothing in return), Claire had looked around the room, champagne glass in hand, when her gaze had landed on you at the bar. She immediately noticed how the woman carried herself with youthful elegance, and that she was the type of lady who could make anything look good. She could also tell that the woman had money, she was not the type of lady that flattered and flirted with filthy rich men to get into their pockets. She wasn’t a part of the common folk. No, this woman was in the one percent. Her clothing and accessories were not loud, but Claire could read the nicheness of the fashion and knew that she was wearing thousands of dollars: her Manolo pumps, the Cartier watch, the small Dolce purse, etc. This was the type of girl she needed, and she knew this woman could replace Miles and his money. Claire finished her glass, gave it to a server, took a deep breath, put on a smile, and then sauntered over to the stunning lady.

“I would buy you a drink, ‘hun, but it is an open bar…” Claire hummed, glancing over to the wealthy woman with a sly smirk.

You blushed just a smidge, and Claire immediately took that as her first win of the night. This girl was young. Not young enough to not be able to handle commitment, but definitely young enough to fall for Claire’s charm and to agree to hand over her money without a second thought. Again, the perfect mark. While Claire waited for you to make your move, she ordered herself a red wine from the open bar.

“You’re too kind…” you lightly retorted, swirling the expensive amber liquid in your glass.

“And who do I have the pleasure of giving my kindness to today…?” Claire cooed widening her smirk as she now turned her body from the bar to face you.

You slowly swiveled towards the older woman. Claire allowed her eyes to wander and take in the younger woman in front of her. You took a swig of her whiskey, before humming lightly.

“I’m Y/N.”

Claire nodded in satisfaction, taking the glass of red from the bartender when it was ready for her. Her eyes shimmered with predatory intent. She could tell this woman was book smart. But she was confident that she could outplay you in this game.

“I’m Claire Debella. My colleagues call me Debella, you can call me Claire…” the older woman hummed, with a teasing tone.

You sucked in a breath, your face flushing some more, before you nodded lightly.

“Where are you from, Y/N?” Claire cooed, playing with the younger woman’s name in her mouth.

“New York. I went to Harvard, have family in Connecticut” You breathed out, lightly fidgeting with your fingers and your glass while struggling to maintain eye contact.

“Smart girl…” the older brunette cooed, sending a sly wink your way.

Another blush rippled through the wealthy woman’s face. Claire could tell this girl was shy. That was also good, it spoke to her privacy and naivety.

“What about you…?” You softly asked.

“Connecticut.” Peggy promptly responded, before taking control of the conversation once more,

“Are you here alone, Y/N?”

Claire could tell that her words were having an effect on the young, wealthy woman. You nearly choked on her drink at her last words, as well as flushed, fidgeting, struggling to hold eye contact… But not in an uncomfortable way, in a flustered way. In a way where you looked adorable while you were trying to cover her ruby red cheeks in embarrassment. And that was exactly what Claire was going for.

“I am…” you breathed out.

“Really?” Claire cooed, quirking her brow dramatically accompanied by a sip of red, “A stunning girl like you…? I’m surprised that a cute guy or girl hasn’t snatched you up yet…”

Now your face was beet red, and she was desperately trying to swallow all of her liquid courage, overwhelmed from all the praise that the older woman was showering her with. Now the your glass was empty.

“Why don’t we ditch this open bar and go somewhere that has some nice, expensive whiskey for you? Hmmmmm, ‘hun?” Claire purred, leaning in close to the woman’s personal space.

You gulped and nodded mindlessly.

“I’d like that…” you breathed out nervously.

“Good girl…” Claire hummed out in delight.

She placed her glass along with the younger woman’s on the bar, signaling to the bartender that the two of you were done. She then linked her arm with yours with ease and guided you, the clueless, naive, wealthy, young woman out of the expensive, testosterone filled event, getting in the back of your Maserati and heading into a future filled with good fortune for the one and only Claire Debella.

~~~

Claire Debella Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

[imdoingsortagay]

RQS

Could I ask Claire Debella to use a strap for the first time in reader?

Ty

Smut below the cut

warnings: 18+ smut, pet names, mommy!claire, strap on use, dirty talk.

a/n: this is so gay

“ be a good girl for mommy okay sweetheart?”

You nod as Claire slowly starts to run the strap through your wet folds, trying to get it as soaked as she can. It would be a lie to say that both of you weren’t nervous as hell.

All these years of sneaking around with woman during college along with working in politics gave her more than enough sexual experience. She could not believe the amount of woman who seem to fuck.

Now here you were a young intern in her campaign, sitting on her very expensive couch as she’s about to fuck you. No sexual experience besides the one time during junior year of college when you kissed that one girl during a party. May or Kate, whatever her name was called.

“ princess,” she says,” mommy’s here if you want to stop”

“ no,” you nod,” want you to fuck me please”.

" As you wish," She proceeds and holds your hand as she starts to go inside your pussy. While she let you choose the strap she'd use on you, it still felt weird the first moment it went inside of you.

" Tell Mommy when you want her to move," she whispers into your ear as a means to help you relax. You nod in agreement as she starts to leave kisses all over your neck, careful not to leave any sort of marks on you.

" I want you to move Mommy," she hears you say with a smile," can you go slow at first though?"

" Anything for you my princess," she says and slowly starts to move her strap in and out of your wet cunt. The moment that she moved, Claire would be lying if she said the moan you let you offset her off.

" I could stay here all day in your pussy babe," she groans while you try to be quiet," looking so pretty for your mommy.

All you could think about at the moment was Claire, how pretty she looked wearing the harness with the cock, how hot her voice sounded talking dirty, and so on. You were in heaven and wanted more of her.

A couple minutes go by before you tap on her arm three times, a means to tell her she can go faster. Claire wastes no time before she increases her speed. All this time of going slow with you, the older woman was ready to show you just how good you can feel under her.

" Oh fuck Mommy-"

" Such a good girl for my doll," she groans as she feels the strap hit her clit nicely," looking so nice for your mommy".

Without a warning, she flips your body over, increasing her thrusts to help you get over the edge.

It doesn't take long before you cum, Claire whispering praises in your ear as she helps calm down.

" Do you want to stop now baby?"

" Can we go again in a couple of minutes mommy?" you tell her, a smile appearing on her face.

" Oh of course my sweet princess," she says as she changes positions on her couch," how about i teach you how to ride my cock next ?"

[theballadofharkness]

Whisky and Wine: A Glass Onion prequel

Pairing: Claire Debella X fem!reader

Summary: The last thing you expected when you came home from your publishers to your older partner Claire’s home was an invitation to her friend’s, Billionaire Miles Bron, private luxury yacht for the weekend. The problem? Claire had been very careful to keep her fellow disrupters away from you, terrified they would ruin yet another aspect of her life. But nobody says no to Miles, so you find yourself surrounded by Claire’s ‘inner circle’.

Word Count: 8.9K

A/N: As per my polls here is my long awaited Claire Debella fic! I’m aware the part 2 poll was still quite 50/50 but this will indeed by a 2-3 parter however each part could work as a stand alone fic for those who are anti multiple parts 💜🪻

Warnings: very slight smut warning so as always MDNI!

The meeting had been a disaster.

You weren’t sure how an hour-long meeting with your publishers had managed to drain every ounce of energy from your body, but as you stepped out of the conference room all you could think about was getting home. The city buzzed around you, the late afternoon sun reflecting off glass buildings, but none of it mattered. You just needed her.

By the time you reached Claire’s house- a sleek, modern place that still somehow managed to feel lived-in- you were practically vibrating with frustration. The moment you stepped inside, dropping your bag near the door, you let out a heavy sigh.

“Claire?” Your voice was quieter than usual, worn-out. You kicked off your shoes and padded further in, following the distant sound of the news murmuring in the living room.

Then you saw her.

Claire was curled up on the couch, barefoot, her reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she scrolled through emails on her tablet. She looked up at the sound of your voice, her expression softening the moment she saw you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She set the tablet down, already reaching for you. “How was the meeting?”

You made a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, collapsing onto the couch beside her. “Exhausting. I swear, if I hear the word ‘marketability’ one more time…”

Claire hummed knowingly, shifting so you could rest your head against her shoulder. “Let me guess. They want you to be more brand-friendly? Less ‘moody writer’ and more… what, exactly?”

“Something soulless, probably.” You sighed, letting her warmth seep into you. She smelled like her usual citrus-sandalwood perfume, and as her fingers began tracing absentminded circles on your arm, the tension in your body slowly melted away.

She exhaled through her nose, something almost like a laugh but edged with irritation. “Idiots. You don’t need to change a thing baby.”

There was a beat of silence. Her fingers continued their slow, soothing movements. Then, she pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering just a second too long. “You want me to run you a bath?” she murmured. “Or do you just want to stay like this for a while?”

You turned, tilting your head up to look at her. She was watching you with that careful, quiet concern that she never quite knew how to express in words. It made something tighten in your chest.

“This,” you said simply, curling into her. “I just want this.”

Claire let out a breath, one hand slipping into your hair, her other arm wrapping securely around you. “Then this it is,” she murmured, holding you close.

The tension in your shoulders had finally started to ease. Claire’s arms were warm around you, her fingers still tracing slow patterns against your back. The two of you sat there in silence, the sounds of the outside world muffled by the thick glass windows of her home. It was just the two of you in your own little world.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at her. Claire had taken her reading glasses off at some point, setting them aside, and now she was watching you with that familiar, unreadable expression- half amusement, half something altogether softer.

“What?” you murmured, your voice quieter now, more settled.

She smiled, shaking her head as her hand slid up to cup your jaw. “Nothing,” she said, voice hushed. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

Your heart stuttered. It didn’t matter how long you had been with her- Claire always had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

Her thumb brushed over your cheek, her touch light but intentional. You barely had a moment to react before she guided your chin up and kissed you.

It was slow at first, unhurried, like she was taking her time memorizing every inch of you. Her lips were soft, warm, tasting faintly of the wine she’d been drinking earlier. You sighed into it, letting your hands rest on her waist, feeling the way she leaned into you, pulling you impossibly closer.

Then something shifted.

Maybe it was the way her fingers slid into your hair, tilting your head just so, or the quiet, contented sound she made against your lips. Either way, the kiss deepened, turned more heated, more urgent. Your fingers curled against the fabric of her shirt, needing more-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

The two of you froze. Claire pulled back just slightly, blinking like she had forgotten for a moment that the rest of the world existed.

You groaned, dropping your forehead against her shoulder. “Are you serious?”

Claire exhaled, biting back a smile. “Hold that thought,” she murmured before pressing one last kiss, so quick it was almost teasing, against your lips. Then, with a reluctant sigh, she untangled herself from you and stood up.

As she made her way to the door, you leaned back into the couch, still slightly dazed from the kiss. You could hear Claire unlocking the door, her voice shifting into something a little more polished, you recognised it immediately as her politician voice.

“Yes?”

“Mrs Debella?” a male voice asked.

“Miss” she corrected exasperatedly.

“Whatever. Special delivery from Alpha Industries.”

At that, your brows knit together, the name instantly recognizable. You sat up slightly, twisting to look toward the front door.

Claire hesitated for half a second before responding. “Right. Thanks.”

You heard the rustling of a package being handed over and then the door shutting again. Claire walked back into the room, a sleek black box in her hands. It was marked with the unmistakable Alpha logo.

You gave her a look. “Miles?”

She let out a sigh, setting the package down on the coffee table. “Looks like it.”

There was something about the way she said it- carefully neutral, but you knew her too well. You had heard enough about Miles Bron and the so-called “Disruptors” to know Claire didn’t take anything from them lightly. Still, she had kept you at a distance from it all. You knew them by name, by the stories she told late at night with a drink in her hand, her voice edged with frustration or reluctant nostalgia. But you had never met them.

Because Claire hadn’t wanted you to.

Your eyes flickered between the box and Claire, whose expression had turned slightly unreadable again. Whatever was inside, you had a feeling it wasn’t just some casual gift.

“Are you going to open it?” you asked.

Claire rubbed her temple, exhaling slowly. “Yeah,” she muttered, more to herself than to you. “I guess I am.”

You sat back, watching as she rubbed a hand over her face before dropping onto the couch beside you, staring at the box like it might explode. You had seen Claire in enough high-pressure situations to know when something was actually bothering her.

“Claire.” You nudged her thigh with your knee, drawing her attention back to you. “Why does this feel like a problem?”

She hesitated, then sighed. “Because I’ve kept you separate from that part of my life for a reason,” she admitted. “And if this is what I think it is… that’s about to change.”

You swallowed, glancing at the box again.

Claire lifted the lid, her movements slower than usual, like she was bracing herself. Inside, nestled in layers of expensive black tissue paper, was an envelope- thick, pristine, sealed with a wax emblem stamped with the Alpha Industries logo.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the unnecessary decadence. Of course it’s fucking wax-sealed. You leaned in as she cracked it open, pulling out what could only be described as the most obnoxious invitation you had ever seen. The card stock was absurdly thick, edged in real gold leaf, with deep blue calligraphy that looked handcrafted.

Claire’s name was printed at the top in bold lettering, followed immediately by yours. Your stomach did a weird little flip.

“Wait,” you said, pointing. “I’m invited?”

Claire’s body had gone very, very still.

Her eyes scanned the page again, her expression shifting from irritation to something sharper. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, and she swallowed once, like she was trying to keep herself from reacting too much.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Do they… know about me?”

Claire didn’t answer right away. Instead, she set the box down on the coffee table with a little too much precision, like she needed to make sure it stayed perfectly in place.

“They know I got divorced,” she spoke carefully. “But I don’t think they know about you.”

You could see it happening in real time- her mind running through every possibility, every scenario. She never told them about you. She made sure she never told them about you.

And yet…

“So how did Miles find out?” you asked slowly.

Claire didn’t answer right away. She was still staring at the invitation, her thumb brushing absently over your name, like she was trying to make sense of it.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted, her voice quieter now. “I never told him. I never told any of them.”

That unsettled you more than you wanted to admit. Claire had been so careful about keeping you out of that part of her life- out of the press, out of the Disruptors’ orbit. But somehow, Miles had found out. And now he was inviting you into his world.

You glanced back down at the invitation. The details were written in Miles’ usual over-the-top way:

A Long Weekend of Luxury & Intrigue

Miles Bron’s Private Yacht – The Mediterranean

An Exclusive Getaway for My Closest Friends… and Their Loved Ones.

Travel arrangements to come, please forward any dietary requirements.

You frowned, tapping the words. “Loved ones,” you muttered. “Like he’s trying to make some kind of point.”

Claire let out a humorless laugh. “That’s exactly what he’s doing.”

Your gaze flickered back to her face. “Are we going?”

Claire ran a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly. “We don’t have a choice.” Something about the way she said it sent a shiver down your spine.

~

The sun was high, turning the Mediterranean into a stretch of endless sapphire. The dock where you stood was private, the kind of place reserved for the ultra-rich, with sleek yachts bobbing in the water and staff dressed in crisp white uniforms.

It felt unreal- like stepping into a different world, one that wasn’t meant for you.

You adjusted the hem of your sundress, feeling the warm breeze skim over your skin. The air here was different from back home- saltier, heavier with the scent of the ocean and something expensive you couldn’t quite name.

Claire’s fingers curled around your wrist before sliding down to lace her fingers with yours.

You glanced up at her. “You okay?”

She was wearing her signature sunglasses, but you could still see the tension in her jaw, the way she kept scanning the dock as if preparing for battle.

“I’m fine,” she said, a little too quickly.

You hummed, unconvinced.

For someone who had been relatively composed about this whole trip, Claire was not composed now. You had noticed it the second you stepped out of the car- how she had kept close to you, touching you more than usual.

Not that you minded.

Her hand slid down to your hip, fingers toying with the hem of your dress as she pulled you in against her side. “You look beautiful,” she murmured, her lips brushing just behind your ear.

A shiver ran through you. “Thank you,” you murmured, tilting your head slightly as her fingers tightened against your waist.

She had been like this since you left the U.S.- clingy, possessive, like she was afraid you might slip through her fingers if she let go for even a second. Normally, Claire wasn’t big on public displays of affection, but now? Now she couldn’t seem to stop touching you. You weren’t stupid. You knew what this was.

“Claire.” You turned slightly in her hold, placing a hand against her chest. “Talk to me.”

Her jaw tensed. For a second, you thought she might deflect again, but then she sighed and slipped her sunglasses off, rubbing at her temple.

“This is just… a lot,” she admitted. “I don’t know how they’re going to react.”

You swallowed. “To me?”

“To us.” Her grip on you tightened for just a second before she exhaled, forcing herself to ease up. “I don’t want you to regret coming.”

You softened, sliding a hand up to cup her face. “I won’t.”

Claire searched your eyes, something unspoken flickering in her own. Then, with a sigh, she pressed her forehead against yours, her fingers still gripping your waist like she needed to ground herself.

“I love you,” she murmured, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

Your breath hitched. She had said it before- countless times, in bed, in the quiet safety of her home. But now, standing in the open, just minutes away from walking into her world, it felt different.

Like a promise.

Before you could respond, the low hum of an approaching engine made Claire stiffen.

You both turned just in time to see the yacht appearing in the distance- massive, gleaming, an undeniable symbol of Miles Bron’s excess.

Claire inhaled sharply. “Here we go.”

You laced your fingers through hers, squeezing once. “Together?”

She looked at you, exhaled, and squeezed back.

“Together.”

The yacht was getting closer, and so was the inevitable reality of this weekend. Claire hadn’t let go of you yet- her hand still resting firmly against your hip, her fingers pressing absently into the soft fabric of your dress like she needed to reassure herself that you were there.

The first taxi pulled up to the dock, the back door swinging open.

Lionel Toussaint stepped out, looking sharp even after what must have been a long flight. His suit was crisp but effortless, like he had mastered the art of looking put-together without trying too hard. He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, taking in the view before his eyes landed on Claire.

His face lit up.

“Well, well,” he said, amusement threading through his voice. “Madame Governor.”

Claire grinned. “Hey, genius.”

They met halfway, embracing briefly but warmly, and you could tell immediately that Lionel was the one Claire was closest to in this group. There was an ease between them, a familiarity that softened some of the tension humming beneath Claire’s skin.

“You good?” Lionel asked as they pulled back.

Claire let out a breath. “Yeah. You?”

He gave her a tired but knowing look. “Ask me again in 48 hours.”

Claire chuckled, shaking her head.

You waited politely beside her, fingers grazing her wrist. Lionel’s eyes flickered to you, but there was no real recognition there- just a brief, dismissive glance before he turned his attention back to Claire, already moving on. And that told you everything.

He didn’t ignore you outright. He just… didn’t register you as important enough to greet.

Claire, however, wasn’t having that.

She cleared her throat pointedly and turned slightly toward you. “Lionel, this is my partner,” she said, her voice carefully even. “Y/N.”

It took half a second too long for Lionel to react.

His brows pulled together in visible confusion, like he had misheard her. His gaze finally settled on you properly, scanning you for the first time, and you could feel him trying to make sense of it.

“Your what?”

Claire’s expression barely flickered, but you could feel her body tense beside you. “My partner,” she repeated, her tone a fraction cooler.

Lionel blinked. His brain was clearly short-circuiting as he tried to recalibrate everything he thought he knew about Claire.

“I didn’t know you liked women,” he said finally, sounding genuinely puzzled.

Your stomach twisted.

Claire let out a dry, humorless laugh. “That’s funny,” she said. “Because I don’t remember ever having to tell you who I sleep with.”

Lionel held up his hands slightly, like he hadn’t meant anything by it. “No, I just-” He exhaled, clearly still processing, before his gaze flicked back to you, then back to Claire.

“She’s, uh… she’s a little young for you, don’t you think?”

There it is.

He was still talking about you, not to you, like you weren’t standing right there, like you weren’t fully aware of the judgment bleeding into his voice.

Claire’s grip on you tightened.

You weren’t sure if it was meant to be reassuring or if she was just holding herself back from punching Lionel in the face.

Your lips parted, ready to say something, but Claire beat you to it.

“She’s an adult,” she said sharply. “And I don’t need your fucking approval, Lionel.”

Lionel sighed, running a hand over his face like this was all so exhausting for him.

“I’m just saying,” he muttered. “It’s unexpected, that’s all.”

Claire exhaled sharply, her free hand finding your wrist and running her thumb over your pulse like she was grounding herself. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said flatly.

Lionel finally—finally—looked at you again, his expression unreadable.

“So… what do you do for work?” he asked, his tone more polite than interested.

“I’m a writer.” You finally spoke up, not particularly moved to go into your whole history for a man that was clearly disinterested.

He nodded back, like that was enough information, then turned to Claire again. “You bringing her on the yacht, then?”

Claire didn’t answer right away. You could feel the tension in her shoulders, the way she was fighting the urge to snap at him. But she just plastered on a tight smile.

“Looks like it.”

Lionel just hummed in response, glancing back toward the water as if this conversation was already over.

You felt Claire’s fingers tighten around yours, the silent message clear: Ignore him.

But something told you this trip was going to be a lot longer than you thought.

Lionel had already shifted into work mode, scrolling through his phone, agreeing with Claire in earnest as she muttered something under her breath about ‘Miles and his goddamn theatrics.’

You were still standing close to her, fingers laced with hers, trying to shake off the weirdness of Lionel’s reaction when another car pulled up to the dock.

It wasn’t subtle.

A gleaming white luxury SUV rolled to a stop, music blaring from the inside. The door swung open, and before you even saw her, you heard her.

“Oh my GOD! this heat? I’m obsessed!”

Birdie Jay stepped out in a billowing, brightly colored designer cover-up, her sunglasses comically oversized, her hair perfectly styled despite her dramatic complaints about the weather. Behind her, Peg struggled to haul out an impossible number of designer suitcases, her expression already exhausted.

“Claire! Lionel!” Birdie practically shrieked as she spotted them, arms flinging open in excitement.

Claire barely had time to react before Birdie was on her, pulling her into a hug that was somehow both enthusiastic and completely self-serving.

“Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever!” Birdie gushed, stepping back to hold Claire at arm’s length. “You look so good, babe- tell me, did you get a little lift?”

Claire’s smile was tight. “No, Birdie.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.” Birdie winked before turning to Lionel, throwing her arms around him with just as much energy. “And you, genius boy, looking all serious as usual.”

Lionel barely managed a chuckle before Birdie released him, finally noticing you.

Her sunglasses slid down her nose as she openly stared.

“Wait.” She pointed dramatically. “Stranger danger. Who is this?”

Claire’s grip on you tightened immediately, her body shifting slightly in front of yours like some kind of shield.

“Birdie,” she said, voice edged with warning. “Stop it.”

Birdie gasped, pressing a manicured hand to her chest. “Oh my god, did I say something wrong?”

Claire exhaled sharply. “She’s my partner.”

Birdie blinked. “Your what?”

Claire’s patience was hanging on by a thread. “My girlfriend, Bird.”

Birdie let out a delighted squeal, clapping her hands together. “Shut up! Oh my god, Claire, you’re into girls? Since when? Well you did always dress in a lot of masculine beige outfits… oh my god did you have a crush on me?”

Peg, still lugging suitcases out of the SUV, muttered, “Oh my god, Birdie, please.”

Claire’s shoulders tensed, but you could see the way she was bracing for Birdie’s next thoughtless comment.

Birdie’s eyes flicked between you and Claire, her head tilting. “Wait, hold on, isn’t she, like-” She squinted at you. “- a baby?”

You stiffened slightly. Claire, on the other hand, visibly clenched her jaw.

“She’s an adult, Birdie,” she said, tone clipped.

Birdie just grinned, completely oblivious. “I love this new era for you Claire.” She leaned in closer,, “I mean, go off, queen- find yourself a little hot young thing-”

Claire groaned, rubbing a hand over her face.

Peg, clearly at her limit, slammed the car trunk shut and turned to Birdie with the deadest expression imaginable. “Can we please just get on the boat?”

Birdie waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes, I’m going.” She turned back to you, flashing a megawatt smile. “Well, welcome to the shitshow, babe!”

And with that, she strutted toward the dock, leaving you standing there, still processing whatever the hell just happened.

Claire let out a slow, deep breath.

“I told you,” she muttered, rubbing your back as if that could somehow erase the past five minutes.

The air was already thick with tension from Birdie’s arrival, but then the roar of an approaching engine shattered the relative calm.

You turned just in time to see a massive, gleaming black motorcycle pulling up to the dock, kicking up dust and salt air as it skidded to a dramatic stop.

And then, of course, the gunfire. Two deafening BANG! BANG! shots into the sky. You nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Jesus fuck,” Claire muttered under her breath, while Lionel just pinched the bridge of his nose.

Duke Cody swung one massive leg off the bike, holstering his pistol like this was just another Tuesday. His biceps strained against his tactical vest, the mirrored sunglasses doing nothing to hide his shit-eating grin.

Right behind him, Whisky dismounted, long legs swinging off the bike as she pulled off her helmet, shaking out her perfect blonde waves like she was in a goddamn commercial.

“Hell yeah, baby!” Duke whooped, spreading his arms wide as he approached the group. “Who’s ready to party?”

Birdie, of course, squealed and sprinted straight into his arms.

“Duuuuuuke!” she shrieked as he lifted her clean off the ground.

“Birdie, my girl!” Duke spun her once before setting her down, slapping Lionel on the back next. “My man! How we doin’?”

Lionel sighed but accepted the hug. “Duke.”

Then Duke turned to Claire, grinning as he pulled her in for an aggressively firm hug.

“Claire! How’s politics? Bunch of bullshit, huh?”

Claire grimaced as she pulled away. “As always.”

Duke let out a booming laugh before his gaze finally landed on you.

He frowned slightly, sunglasses tilting down as he gave you a once-over. “Wait a minute- who’s this? You tight with Miles?”

Claire’s spine snapped straight. “She’s my partner,” she said before you could even open your mouth.

Duke’s eyebrows shot up before his face split into a wide, very male grin. “Ohhhh,” he drawled. “Girl on girl, huh? Sounds hot.”

You physically cringed. Claire, on the other hand, made a sound so close to an actual growl that Lionel had to clear his throat.

“Duke, no,” Peg muttered from somewhere behind her stack of luggage.

“Duke. Stop.” Claire snapped, glaring at Duke like she was two seconds from punching him.

Duke, completely unbothered, just chuckled. “Hey, I call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

Before Claire could actually strangle him, Whisky finally approached, sliding past Duke and straight toward you.

“Oh my god,” she said, all breathy excitement, her arms already opening. “It’s so good to meet you.”

And then, suddenly, you were being hugged.

You blinked, startled but not opposed, as Whisky wrapped you up in genuine warmth. She smelled like vanilla and sunscreen, her long, tanned arms squeezing you tightly before pulling back with an easy, dazzling smile.

“You’re, like, the only other person here who gets it,” she said under her breath , gripping your shoulders. “This group is insane, but don’t worry, babe- I got you.”

You blinked again. “Oh. Uh- thank you?”

Claire, meanwhile, was staring at Whisky like she had just committed a crime. You felt the exact moment her arm snaked around your waist, her grip firm, possessive.

Whisky, oblivious, just beamed at you. “We’re gonna stick together, okay?”

Claire’s fingers dug into your side. “Actually,” she cut in, her voice way too even, “she’ll be sticking with me.”

Whisky finally seemed to notice the tension and raised her perfectly arched brows, glancing between you and Claire.

“Oh,” she said, smirking slightly. “I see how it is.”

You didn't miss the way Claire’s hold on you tightened, like she thought Whisky might actually steal you right in front of her.

Duke, meanwhile, clapped his hands together, completely unaware of the subtle war happening in front of him. “Alright, enough chit-chat- where’s this big-ass boat?”

Claire exhaled sharply, but her grip on you didn’t loosen. Yeah this was gonna be a long weekend.

The yacht finally docked, looming ahead of you, sleek and impossibly expensive, rocking slightly in the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean. A crew of staff was already waiting on deck, dressed in crisp white uniforms, making last-minute preparations as the boat docked.

Miles Bron finally appeared, stepping onto the upper deck like a king surveying his kingdom. Arms wide, sunglasses reflecting the sun, dressed in linen like he had personally invented wealth.

“My closest friends!” he boomed, his voice carrying over the dock. “My fellow Disruptors!”

Claire exhaled so hard you felt it.

Miles grinned, throwing his arms open like he expected the group to cheer for him.

“I’m so glad you all could make it,” he continued, gesturing grandly at the yacht behind him. “This weekend is gonna be legendary. We’re talking relaxation, revelation, innovation-”

Lionel sighed. “Can we just get on the boat?”

Miles laughed, pointing at him. “That’s my guy! Always straight to business.”

Claire muttered under her breath, “Oh my god, I can’t do this.”

You squeezed her hand. “Too late now.”

One by one, the group greeted him, stepping onto the yacht like they were walking onto the red carpet.

Birdie was all over him immediately, throwing her arms around his neck. “Miles, darling! I’ve missed you!”

Miles chuckled, squeezing her tight. “Birdie Jay, my shining star!”

Behind her, Peg staggered forward, hauling an ungodly amount of luggage up the gangway, struggling as she tried to keep up.

Claire leaned toward you. “Should we…?”

You glanced at Peg, whose face was bright red from exertion, and whispered back, “She’s gotta learn to leave Birdie.”

Claire let out a quiet huff of laughter.

Duke approached next, gripping Miles in one of those firm, testosterone-heavy handshakes before pulling him into a half-hug. “My man, look at you. Alpha as fuck.”

Miles lapped it up, grinning. “Duke, my brother, always bringing that energy.”

Then…Whisky.

You expected her to greet him like the others, but instead, she melted into his arms. And lingered. Her arms looped around his neck, and Miles held her just a little too close, his hand pressed way too low on her back.

Claire stiffened beside you. Your eyes met hers, both of you sharing suspicious looks. Whisky finally pulled back, giving Miles a dazzling smile before stepping onto the boat. Miles smoothed a hand down his shirt, still grinning like a man who was absolutely getting laid that night.

Claire’s grip on your waist tightened. “Fucking figures.”

Finally, it was your turn.

Miles’ gaze slid over to you, his sunglasses lowering slightly as his lips curled into that infuriatingly smug grin.

“And who do we have here?” he asked, voice smooth, curious.

You blinked. “Uh… you put my name on the invitation?”

For a split second, his expression flickered- just the faintest tell that, yeah, he absolutely knew that. But then it was gone, replaced by an easy chuckle as he spread his hands like it had just slipped his mind.

“Of course! Of course,” he said, nodding. “Just had to put a face to the name.”

Bullshit.

You knew it. He knew it.

And judging by the way Claire’s body tensed beside you, *she* definitely knew it, too. Before you could say anything else, Claire’s grip on you tightened.

“She’s mine, Miles,” she said- sharp, firm, final. Not my partner. Not we’re together. Just mine.

Miles raised his hands in mock surrender, the smirk never leaving his face. “Hey, love that for you, Claire.”

Claire didn’t move. Didn’t let go. Didn’t break her glare. You felt the way her fingers curled against your waist, the unspoken weight in her hold. It wasn’t just about you anymore. She’d just watched Whisky drape herself all over him. She’d just clocked the dynamic shift, the tension, the fact that Duke’s girlfriend had just hugged Miles like she belonged to him. And now Miles was looking at you with that same assessing energy.

Yeah. Not happening.

Without another word, Claire pulled you past him, her grip solid, grounding. As you stepped onto the yacht, you caught the tail end of Miles’ quiet chuckle behind you. Yeah you should have dragged Claire off the boat when you had the chance.

~

It was evident that Miles loved the sound of his own voice.

The second everyone was settled on deck, he launched straight into his grand welcome speech, pacing in front of the group like he was unveiling the next great innovation that would change the world.

“It is so good to have my inner circle here,” he began, grinning wide as he spread his arms, his linen shirt billowing like he was about to ascend. “This weekend is gonna be legendary. A weekend of ideas. Of disruption. Of pure creativity.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Claire, standing stiffly beside you, just exhaled slowly through her nose.

Miles clapped his hands together. “Now, I’ve personally curated this experience for each of you,” he continued, smirking. “Every detail, every moment, it’s perfection. And that includes where you’ll be staying.” He gestured dramatically, and one of the staff members stepped forward, holding a sleek silver tray. On it were a set of thin, futuristic-looking wristbands.

“Each of you will be staying in luxury,” Miles said, plucking a band off the tray. “Your rooms are assigned- and these?” He held up the wristband between two fingers. “These are your keys. Custom-made. High-tech. Just tap in, and boom- your room knows you.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Claire muttered under her breath.

Miles shot her a wink like she’d just complimented him. One by one, the group took their wristbands- Duke inspecting his like it was a weapon, Birdie gasping about how tech-y it was, Whisky cooing as Miles personally strapped hers on (suspicious), Peg looking like she wanted to throw hers into the ocean.

When you and Claire got yours, she barely acknowledged it- just grabbed your hand and dragged you toward the room assignments before Miles could get any more insufferable.

The second you stepped inside your room, the door sliding shut behind you, Claire pounced.

Her lips crashed into yours, her hands gripping at your hips, your waist, your arms- everywhere, like she was grounding herself in your presence.

You barely had time to gasp before she was pressing you back against the door, fingers curling into the fabric of your dress.

“Baby,” she breathed, her voice desperate, almost pleading. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Her lips dragged over your jaw, your throat. “You’re just mine, yeah?”

Your heart stuttered. You’d never seen her like this. Needy. Desperate. You knew what this was. You’d felt her tension building all day- when Lionel barely acknowledged you, when Birdie treated you like a novelty, when Duke made it gross, when Whisky hugged you, when Miles looked at you. And most of all- when she realised that Miles had obviously been fucking Whisky behind Duke’s back.

Claire had clocked it instantly. And if Miles was willing to do that to Duke then all bets were off. She’d seen the way he looked at you. How he pretended not to know you. Like you were just another piece on the board for him to play with. And now? She was holding onto you like she thought you might slip away, too.

You cupped her face, guiding her back to your lips. “I’m yours,” you murmured, brushing your mouth against hers. “Just yours.”

She made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan and kissed you harder. Her hands were shaking as they gripped your waist, sliding over your hips like she needed more, needed to prove something to herself. And god, you were more than willing to let her.

But then…

Ding.

A notification popped up on the sleek, futuristic screen by the bed. Miles’ voice crackled over the speakers:

“Dinner in an hour, Disruptors! Be ready for anything.”

Claire froze. Her forehead pressed to yours, her breath still heavy, her fingers still clinging to your dress.

“I fucking hate him.”

You laughed. “I know.”

She groaned, pressing her lips to your forehead before stepping back. “Come on, baby. Let’s get this over with.”

But the second you turned to grab your bag, she smacked your ass. Hard.

You gasped, whipping around, and she just grinned. “Just reminding you,” she murmured, voice low, teasing. “You’re mine.”

Yeah. This weekend was gonna be dangerous.

~

The shower had been quiet, save for the sound of water cascading down the glass, the gentle rhythm of your body moving with Claire’s as she helped you rinse the shampoo from your hair. It was one of those moments where everything felt soft, almost like time had slowed down just for you two. You were both getting ready for dinner, the tension of the day still clinging to you, but now it was tempered by the closeness- the warmth of her skin against yours, her lips pressing light kisses to the back of your neck as you dried off.

Claire had been all over you in the shower, but as you both dressed, she seemed to get quieter, her hands brushing over your body with a purpose you couldn’t quite place. You were dressed in a short, fitted black dress that showcased your figure- simple but undeniably flattering, you could tell Claire approved by the way her gaze lingered on you a little too long.

“You look beautiful,” she murmured as she pulled you back into her arms. Her lips on your neck, hands grabbing your waist, pulling you into her.

“I don’t want to let you go,” she whispered against your skin. “But we have to. They’ll be waiting.”

You chuckled. “You’re hot and bothered again already?” You teased softly.

She gave you a quick, teasing bite to your neck. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it, baby.”

You turned in her arms to face her, resting your hands on her chest. You could see the battle inside her- her breath still shallow, her body still tightly wound as she fought the impulse to drag you into the bed again. But she just smiled at you instead, her lips soft and sweet as she kissed you once more.

When you finally pulled away, you caught her gaze, soft but with an undeniable possessive edge. “I’m yours. All yours.this trip won’t change that” You smiled against her lips, feeling the warmth of her body, the need in her touch.

“Ready for dinner?”

You nodded, letting her pull you out of the room and into the hallway.

The sight of the yacht’s wide-open deck was breathtaking- the Mediterranean air cool, the distant sound of waves lapping against the hull. The deck was alive with conversation when you arrived- everyone mingling, glasses in hand, as the sun set over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the yacht. Miles was standing center stage, naturally, as if he were the star of some kind of farcical play. He exuded that patented mix of “down-to-earth billionaire” bullshit and self-importance.

When he saw you and Claire, his smile grew wider, and he made a show of waving you over with open arms. “Ah, the perfect pair! So glad you could join us,” he said, grinning.

He handed each of the guests a glass of their preferred drink- Lionel’s rum, Birdie’s cocktail, Duke’s whiskey, and, of course, Peg’s... discount beer in a red solo cup, before turning to Claire with a flourish.

“Claire bear, for you- room temperature Pinot Grigio, as you like it.”

Claire barely looked at him, already focused on going to speak to Lionel as she took the glass. She moved away from Miles, leaving you standing beside him, and that’s when he pounced.

Miles tilted his head at you, still smiling. “What’ll it be, beautiful? Pick your poison- our mixologist can whip up whatever you want.”

You tilted your head slightly. “I don’t really drink.”

“Ah,” he hummed, dragging the moment out, like he was waiting for you to explain yourself. You didn’t.

Instead, you caught Claire’s eye from across the deck, and she was already looking at you, brows just slightly furrowed, her grip tightening around her wine glass.

Before she could step back toward you, a loud voice cut through-

“Hey where’s your drink?”

Duke. You barely had time to react before he was beside you, all bravado and ego, Whisky trailing just behind. His sunglasses were still on despite the dimming light, and his arms flexed as he gestured to your empty hands.

“She’s not drinking,” Claire interjected, her voice clipped.

Duke barely acknowledged her, already reaching for one of the drinks they’d brought over. Miles opened his mouth like he was about to say something, some smug little comment about your earlier refusal.

And you weren’t about to let him.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath, then louder, “I’ll take what you’re having, if you’re offering.”

Duke’s grin spread, wide and pleased. He clapped a heavy hand on your shoulder like you’d earned something. You lurched forward at the sheer force of it.

“That’s the spirit! Good girl- I’m loving this energy!”

Whisky passed you a drink- something dark, strong-smelling, condensation beading down the glass. Claire stiffened beside you. You lifted the glass to your lips, taking a long, slow sip- never breaking eye contact with Miles. The burn hit your throat instantly, sharp and biting, but you kept your expression neutral. Miles just watched you, unreadable for a fraction of a second- then smirked.

Dinner was exactly as unbearable as you thought it would be. The long, immaculately set table stretched out across the open-air deck, the Mediterranean breeze sweeping through candle flames and ruffling the edges of cloth napkins. The food was extravagant, the wine endlessly poured, and the conversation? Absolutely insufferable.

You had been drinking steadily just to survive it. At first, it was just to take the edge off- the way Miles sat at the head of the table like some kind of tech god, the way Whisky leaned in close to him, practically coiled around him, the way everyone here seemed to just accept it, like it was normal.

Then Birdie started talking.

"Peg, hand me my phone," she said, reaching across the table like she expected it to materialize in her hand.

Peg, visibly exhausted, didn’t even look up from her plate. "No."

Birdie blinked, affronted. "What?"

"You promised. No phone. Not until the end of the media cycle."

Birdie groaned, throwing her head back. "Oh my god, are we still on that? I apologized! I explained!"

Claire exhaled sharply, already rubbing at her temples. Lionel was gripping the bridge of his nose. Duke, as expected, was no help at all.

"People are just so sensitive these days," he muttered, shaking his head. "So woke. You know Kimmel said I hated boobs?”

Birdie lit up like he had just cracked some kind of universal truth. "YES! Exactly! That's what I keep saying! I'm a truth teller! I say it like I see it, and people can't handle it!"

Claire and Lionel exchanged a look. A very long, very exhausted look.

And that was when you- who had, by this point, abandoned all forms of self-restraint- snorted. Loudly. Everyone turned toward you. "Bullshit," you muttered, swirling the last of your drink in your glass.

Birdie’s mouth actually dropped open. "Excuse me?" She blinked at you, eyes wide, before laughing like she had misheard you. "Sweetie, I have Gucci handbags older than you."

You rolled your eyes, setting your glass down with a sharp clink. "Don't you think you're mistaking ‘truth telling’ with just speaking without thought?"

The table froze. Even Peg, who should be on your side, looked vaguely alarmed.

"What you're doing is dangerous," you went on, voice a little too loud, a little too loose from the alcohol. "You say shit without thinking, and people listen to you. That’s not truth telling, Birdie. It’s just-”

Birdie grinned, leaning in. "Oh, so you think I'm dangerous, huh?"

You scoffed, already reaching for your glass again. "It’s not a compliment. It’s stupi-"

"Okay," Claire cut in, her voice forcibly light but you could feel the steel grip of her hand on your thigh. "You’ve had too much to drink. Let’s get you back to the room."

You turned to her, blinking. "I’m fine-"

"You’re done," she said, already pulling you to stand, already steering you away from the table.

The conversation picked up again as you left, but you still felt Birdie’s eyes on your back. And Miles? Miles was smirking.

~

The door slammed behind you, the sound echoing through the sleek, modern bedroom. The second Claire turned to face you, hands already on her hips, you exploded.

"What the fuck, Claire?!"

She looked just as furious as you felt, stepping forward, eyes flashing. "No, what the fuck was that?"

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Me? You’re friends with a woman who compared herself to Harriet Tubman and I’M the one embarrassing you?! Have you seen Duke’s streams?!"

Claire pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. "Yes, I know exactly what they’re like, but they are my very old friends, and you cannot just-”

"Oh, so when it’s you marking me up and making me tell you how I belong to you, that’s fine, but the second it’s me versus your shithead friends, suddenly I’m dragged back here like a fucking child?"

Claire’s jaw clenched.

"Fuck off then," you muttered, turning away.

A beat.

Then, Claire was on you. Not gentle, not soft- commanding. A sharp grip on your chin, tilting your head up, her voice a low, controlled warning. "You don’t talk to me like that."

You froze. Claire’s face was so close to yours, her grip firm but careful, her breath warm against your lips. "You’re drunk," she said, voice steady. "Go to bed."

Your stomach twisted. "Claire-"

"I’m going back to the group."

Your heart dropped. "You’re leaving?"

"Yes." Her voice wasn’t cruel, but it was final.

You stared at her, something deep and ugly twisting inside you. "Why?"

Claire exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down her face. When she finally met your gaze again, she looked tired.

"Listen," she said, softer now. "I can’t stand Miles. But he’s the one paying for my entire electoral campaign. You can’t just piss him off."

The words landed like a slap. Claire watched the way your expression shifted- how your chest rose and fell, how your mouth pressed into a thin line. You swallowed, your throat dry.

"Right," you muttered.

Claire sighed, reaching for you, but you stepped back.

"Go," you said, voice quiet.

She hesitated. But then, without another word, she turned and left. And for the first time since stepping foot on this yacht, you felt completely alone.

~

You woke up feeling like shit.

Your mouth was dry, your head was pounding, and your stomach churned with the unmistakable nausea of a hangover. The Mediterranean sun poured in through the open balcony doors, searing hot against your eyelids, and the cool sheets beneath you did nothing to soothe the ache in your skull.

The thin sheet barely covered you. You weren’t even sure if you’d bothered to get ready for bed the night before, but judging by the state of you- naked, woozy, with your dress crumpled up in the corner of the room- you assumed you hadn’t. Your stomach turned as the memories filtered in, sluggish and blurry- Miles, the drinks, the fight with Claire, the way she left you last night, drunk and fuming in this big, stupid, obscenely expensive bedroom. You groaned, pressing your face into the pillow. Claire’s warm, soft body was already curled around yours.

"Good morning, baby," she murmured against your shoulder, voice thick with sleep as her lips trailed down your bare skin.

You pulled the sheet up higher over your bare breasts, burrowing deeper into the pillows. "I’m dying," you croaked.

"Yeah," Claire sighed, nosing into your hair. "You did drink a lot."

You cracked one eye open just to glare at her. "Thanks for the insight Governor."

Claire just smiled, tilting your chin slightly so she could kiss the corner of your mouth. "C’mon," she murmured, her fingers tracing over your waist, nose nuzzling into your hair. "Baby," she coaxed, her voice dipping lower, her hand smoothing over your stomach. "Let me make it up to you."

You groaned again, rolling onto your back, your body betraying you as her hands roamed lower. "No." You made a noise, half groan, half protest, and shifted away from her mouth.

Claire chuckled, completely unfazed, her arms tightening around your waist. "No?"

"Still mad," you mumbled, voice thick with sleep and dehydration.

Claire exhaled a soft, amused laugh, shifting so she was pressed even closer. "Still mad," she repeated, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your jaw. "Baby..."

You didn’t react.

Claire huffed, pressing her nose into your hair, her hand slipping lower, tracing lightly over your bare stomach. "Baby," she repeated, her voice dropping into that low, coaxing register that always made your spine tingle. "C’mon. Mommy’s sorry. Don’t be mad."

You huffed, pulling the sheet high over your head.

Claire didn't like that. With an amused hum, she slipped beneath the covers with you, her breath warm against your neck, her lips finding your jaw this time, soft and lingering. "There she is," she murmured, voice honeyed. "Thought I lost you under there."

You pushed at her arm weakly. "Claire."

"What?" she asked innocently, though her hand was already inching lower, fingers ghosting over the dip of your waist. "I’m just waking my baby girl up."

"You left me," you muttered, voice quieter now, but still laced with irritation.

Claire sighed again- this time, more genuine. She kissed your temple, her lips lingering, before murmuring, "I know."

You swallowed, staring at the ceiling, heart still heavy in your chest. "You left."

A pause. Then, softer: "I know, baby. Her voice had that gentle edge to it, like she was really feeling it now- the weight of the fight, the things she’d said, the way she walked away.

"You chose them," you mumbled into the pillow.

Claire exhaled sharply, shifting so she could prop herself up on one elbow. "It wasn’t like that."

You snorted. "Oh, wasn’t it? You dragged me away like some unruly child, Claire."

She ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. "I was trying to keep the peace. You don’t know how complicated it is-"

"I don’t know?" You twisted to face her, your head still throbbing, but the rage from last night was creeping back in. "You think I don’t know what it’s like to deal with entitled narcissists who think they’re the smartest people in the room? I write about people like Miles for a living."

Claire sighed, fingers pressing into her temple. "I know it wasn’t fair to you."

You rolled onto your back, throwing an arm over your eyes. "No, it wasn’t."

A beat of silence. "I’m sorry."

You turned your head just slightly, peeking at her from under your arm. "You should be."

Then she shifted, her leg slotting between yours, her lips trailing lower.

"Claire," you warned.

"Mmm?" Her teeth grazed the edge of your jaw, her grip on your waist tightening.

"You don’t get to leave me and then fuck me," you snapped, waving a weak hand toward her.

Claire smirked, completely unapologetic, fingers dancing higher up your thigh. "No?"

You glared at her, but you were still so hungover, and she was so warm and soft and-

"Baby," she murmured, pressing a kiss right below your ear. "Let me make it up to you."

You wanted to stay mad.

You really did.

But then she was kissing your neck, slow and deliberate, her hand gripping your thigh just right to make your hips can’t against the muscle of her leg, her voice all low and sweet and devoted, like she would spend the whole day proving how sorry she was if you just let her. Your heart ached a little. You were still mad. But you also still loved her.

“Please” you breathed shakily, hips rocking steadily now. “I love you”

“I love you babygirl” Claire cooed.

Then… Miles’ voice crackled over the speakers:

“Disruptors! Breakfast is prepared! Make your way to the deck.”

“Oh come ON”

[riosslut]

i'm going to start writing fics again,

1. only fem or gn reader ! this is a sapphic blog :3

2. i will write for:

kathryn hahn

agatha harkness

claire debella

doc ock (olivia octavius)

aubrey plaza

rio vidal

cat adams

lenny busker

riley johnson

kate walsh

addison montgomery

the handler

caterina scorsone

amelia shepherd

stana katic

kate beckett

(if you'd like to request any other characters played by different actresses such as; gwendoline christie characters or vera farmiga characters let me know !!)

i write;

smut,

angst,

fluff

[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.

[getlostsquidward]

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.

[aparticularbandit]

Yo, potential new bestie, and welcome!

I call myself Bandit, I'm 30+, and I write! A LOT.

My askbox is currently OPEN! Send in questions, comments, concerns, and prompts! My prompts tag is here, so feel free to send one in!

More information (fic masterlist, fandoms) below the cut!

I'm so glad you're here, and I hope you stay a while!

Of Note: I frequently post about things I'm writing as I'm writing or editing them, so if you want to read my stuff with no spoilers whatsoever, then block the tags bandit writes fic and bandit brainstorms - between the two of those, you should avoid all those posts. Hopefully. >.>;;;;

ALSO credit for my banner pic goes to @princescar! (And I made my pfp edit!)

General Links:

Tumblr Fic Masterlist

AO3

Note for Minors

What I Write:

Found Family

Angst (so much angst)

Redemption Arcs

Soulmate Timer AUs

Crossovers

Second Person (not x Reader)

Time Shenanigans

Meta (both narrative device and analysis)

Multiple Interpretations of the Same Character

What I DON'T Write:

Smut

Graphic Sexual Content

Fandoms:

Danganronpa

Ships: Enogiri (Junko/Kyoko), Junkan (Junko/Mikan), Matsushima (Ryoko/Yasuke), and Miscellaneous WLW Rarepairs.

Open to writing more by request; still playing with characters and dynamics.

MCU

Characters: Agatha Harkness, Wanda Maximoff, Ancient One, Viv Vision, America Chavez

Ships: Harximoff (Agatha/Wanda), Agathian (Agatha/Ancient One)

Hahnverse:

Characters: Claire Debella, Eve Fletcher

Ships: Agave (Agatha/Eve), Valentines (Claire/Eve)

Jane the Virgin:

Characters: Rose Solano, Luisa Alver

Ships: Roisa (Rose/Luisa)

AND MORE

(Check the Masterlist or AO3 because I've dabbled in...a lot.)

[agathaandbrienneslesbian]

Kathryn Hahn Masterlist

🌸 = Fluff // 🔥 = SMUT // ⚡️= angst // 🌤️ = Hurt/Comfort

Agatha Harkness

coming soon

Claire Debella

coming soon

Eve Fletcher

coming soon

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

Oh boy let's see what embarrassing things this pulls up.

(please note there's some smut here so. Minors dni with my reblog of this.)

“Eve?” You call out, knocking in her front door as you twist the knob, opening it. “Are you home?” (I Think I Saw You, Eve Fletcher x Reader)

Eve laughs softly as you trail your fingers over her stomach, the muscles flexing beneath your touch. (Soft Touches In Our Resting Place, Eve Fletcher x Reader)

You press gentle kisses against her warm skin, alternating between each side, trailing your way all the way up, up, up, before letting your breath tease her increasingly wet core, and then kissing all the way back down, down, down. (The Zoom Call Meeting, Claire Debella x Reader)

Claire moans softly as you press your thumbs against her clothed nipples. (Princess, Claire Debella x Reader)

"Roaming the streets was never safe for her. What makes you think it's different for you? Your magic won't protect you, otherwise your bond, which was supposed to protect her, would've done its job and killed them before they could kill her." (Paper Rings, Claire Debella x Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Agatha comes home in a dark mood, her anger and frustration immediately alerting you that something is wrong. (Make Me Behave//Like An Animal, Agatha Harkness x Reader)

It’s the carefree days that you love the most. The days spent in meadows and the woods, with the sun gently warming the earth, dappling the trees and your skin. The moments of peace and serenity between the rush and the worry. (Love Me When I Don't, Agatha Harkness x Reader [being written lmao])

Wake up. (Immortal, Agnes Bohner, Agatha Harkness)

You let out a whine as you feel her teasingly slide her fingers across your opening, the playful glint in her eye telling you that you're in for the long haul tonight. (An Unhealthy Obsession, Agatha Harkness x Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

She's holding her, an arm around her waist, a hand intertwined with her own, and they're slowly turning in a circle to music only they can hear. (Dancing in the Dark, Agatha Harkness x Wanda Maximoff)

Anyways if I have to suffer I'm making others suffer too.

@imdoingsortagay @agathasangel

And if y'all's don't have anything up on AO3 I'm challenging you to dig through your stuff here on the hellsite <3

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics. (Tag some other authors!)

@authortobenamedlater tagged anyone who wants to play, and I want to play! 

^-^ 

​1.  “I’m in love with you,” she says softly, with all the ceremony he’s come to expect from her. (Sunrise Secrets, Sanctuary) 

2.  The others trickle out of her office slowly, caught up in low conversations about plans and strategies. (Curtain Call, Dollhouse) 

3.  They’re no strangers to nightmares. (Slates, Grimm) 

4.  “Don’t do this.” The voice holds a strange combination of danger and desperation, and Will knows in a heartbeat he should recognize it. (Rescue in the Fog, Sanctuary)

5.  It’s been three days. Longer still since she’s slept, but… Three days since she managed to destroy forever the creature so deeply entwined with John that she feared she might never free him from it. (After the Dark, Sanctuary)

6.  Helen Magnus has been missing for weeks. (A Helping Hand, Sanctuary) 

7.  This has been a long time coming. (Inevitable, Timeless) 

8.  “I know something about sacrificing for the ones I love,” he says quietly, taking the seat across from her without preamble or invitation. (How We Move On, Sanctuary and Timeless) 

9.  He only has seconds to think. (All in a Day’s Work, Sanctuary) 

10.  “Dinner will be… Late,” the sasquatch says flatly, eyes daring them to mock his current appearance: braids all over his fur, ribbons everywhere, and even some glitter sprinkled on (adding insult to injury, it seems). (The Perils of Normalcy, Sanctuary) 

Tagging @taleasoldastime-andspace @accidental-spice @kanerallels  @cookiedoughmeagain  @only-freaking-sunflowers and anyone else who wants to play.

[hahnspoetrycorner]

imagine you’ve snuck into claire’s office. she’s been having a rough day, things weren’t going the way she wanted to. people in the office were majorly pissing her off. you decide to sneak in, wearing an outfit she bought you (the SHORTEST skirt you could get away with at work). no underwear on, you sink into her leather office chair, legs open, waiting for claire to return so she could use you however she wanted. a stress reliever of sorts.

as claire opens the door, she pauses. she wasn’t expecting such a pretty sight when she came back to her office. she smiles as she closes the door behind her, so proud of you for being so kind to her.

“heard you were having a bad day… thought you might like a little pick me up.” you mumbled. she hadn’t said anything for a few minutes, which worried you. had you done something wrong? was this not what she wanted?

you were about to apologise when she walked closer towards you, hands leaning on the desk as she leant over. you leant forward to, trying to get as close to her as possible without having to get out of the chair. a hand brushed your hair away from your face before her lips met yours, gentle yet demanding.

“this is exactly what i needed, princess. thank you for being so kind.” she pulled away, eyes hungry as they raked down your body. you sank back into the chair, smiling as she sauntered towards you. her blue irises were almost gone, pupils dilated with such lust. she unzipped her pants, revealing the bright blue strap she had nestled away.

“be mommy’s special stress reliever baby. show me how much you want to help,” her sultry voice was music to your ears as you eyed the faux cock, mouth watering at the size.

“just wanna help, mommy.” you replied as you took her into your mouth. she moaned and her hand tangled into your hair. she was one very lucky woman.

(kinda inspired by this image bc HOLY FUCK I WANT HER TO RAIL ME)

[imdoingsortagay]

Top! Claire Debella x fem! R

18 please

Let it Happen

summary: Claire gets to know the new intern in the office during one of her days when she works late.

warnings: Smut below the cut +18, fucking your boss ( not me tho stay safe tho ❤️), Claire being a flirt, gay, oral. Dubious consent, oral ( r receiving).

Did you really need to be here at 10pm at night on a weekday with Senator Debella looking at boring paperwork? NO

Yet here you were, energy drink in hand the older woman sat closely next to you in her office looking over some reports for an upcoming hearing she needs to be at.

" Didn't expect such a sweet thing like you to spend your Thursday night with me," Claire says to you," don't you have a group of girls to go out and have fun with?"

With the pet name that she used, the older woman can tell it makes you blush, always feeling proud of herself for making you act all flustered. The innocent ones were always her type, the chance to make them go from innocent beings to slutty things always drives her crazy.

Something in her knew that would be you the first day that Barkley walked into the office with a stack of paperwork, you quickly followed behind her with two cups of coffee to start off the day with nervousness written all over your face. Since then, Claire made it her goal to try to get to know you better, what makes you blush, your favorite things, what you do out of work, and whatnot.

" My work with you is my main priority Miss Debella," you answer back," fun wasn't always on my mind which might sound a bit nerdy to say".

" Really Now?" Claire asks you, placing the boring reports on the table in front of her, wanting to know what you meant by your statement.

" Maybe I shouldn't have said that-"

" Y/L/N," the older woman starts off," it's just you and me here honey, all of your secrets are safe with me".

She did have a fair point, it was just the two of you in her office, and nobody else would know about how you always wanted to have fun and " explore yourself " as people your age say. Miss Debella would never tell people your secrets.

" If it helps the last person that I slept with was my best friend and it didn't really turn out too good," Claire admits to you which wasn't a lie as she and birdie were too drunk to even remember the sex.

" Didn't think you to be into woman Miss Debella," you say which makes Claire smile.

" I know a pretty little thing like you when I see one," Claire flirts back as you try your best to cover your blushing face with the Redbull which doesn't really do much.

" God you are so innocent,” Claire says as she takes the drink from your hand and sets it off to the side.

What you don’t expect next to happen is her leading you to sit on her lap, work being abandoned as Claire can’t hold herself back from kissing your neck and running her hands all of your body. A part of you didn’t know what to do as the woman worships you but you start to feel yourself growing rather wet, embarrassed that this woman is getting you soaked by doing something so simple.

“ you have no idea how crazy you fucking drive me doll, Claire says, “ can mommy touch you baby? I’m so desperate for you please.”

You’ve never heard the woman so desperate and the idea of being fucked sounded so good now, knowing that the vibrator in your nightstand barely does the job.

“ yes please mommy,” you whine before the older woman flips your position to have you under her. Mind going crazy that a goddess like her is about to be your first, not thinking about the consequences as your only priority is her exploring your body. Claire helps you remove your skirt along with your pink panties ( fitting ) before being met with your wet core, going through with two of her fingers and almost loudly moaning at how wet you are. Her mind running wild with all the ways she’s have you wrapped around her fingers.

“ Has my baby ever gotten this wet for anyone?”

You nod.

“ good, “ she says as she goes back to kissing your body, making sure to leave marks to remind you about her later. The moment that the older woman gets to your wet cunt, Claire takes pity on you and starts to lucky at your pussy.

All you can do is quietly moan, hands going straight to Claire head to keep her in place as she eats you like it’s her day job. She was doing wonders licking your pussy and Claire is in heaven seeing you moan.

“ fuck,” Claire as she takes a bit to look up at you,” such a pretty girl for me.”

“I can’t wait to take your innocence.”

[theballadofharkness]

Masterlist

🪻= smut

Agatha Harkness

Series

Witch Hunt (Private investigator!Agatha)

Part 1

Part 2

One shots

That’s your price?

She makes me laugh

Housewarming

Housewarming Part 2 🪻

A promise made in the dark

Glasses

Agatha Harkness: Deserving of Love

Sickbed

Agatha Harkness VS Salem: the kittening

Claire Debella

One shots

Whisky and Wine: A Glass Onion prequel

[agathasangel]

in the middle (jen barkley x claire debella x fem!reader NSFW)

warnings: smut, angst, cheating, sexting/dirty picture sharing, mutual masturbation, semi-public sex acts, threesome, legal age gap (reader is 24-25, jen is late 30s and claire is around 40).

I literally thought of this whole plot last night and somehow wrote 2k words of it in one day. Yay brainrot. also this takes place pre-glass onion while claire is running for governor and fairly soon after jen was bobby newport’s campaign manager.

summary: jen is your girlfriend, and you are trying to repair your relationship after her struggle to stay loyal to you. but when jen’s away and her new candidate, claire debella, sees a photo of you and has to have you, they make a plan to share.

“I’ll be honest, (y/n), I’m not exactly a “committed relationship” kind of gal. But I really like you. I want to keep seeing you, just… don’t expect me to be the perfect girlfriend at first. I don’t know if that’s something I’m capable of.”

That was what Jen said to you at the end of your internship on the campaign she was working on at the time. While her political career required her to lie her ass off on a daily basis, she was brutally honest when it came to her personal life. That was something you appreciated about her.

But she was more right than either of you could have imagined. While you were living in the same city, things were fine. But her work often required her to leave, and Jen had a hard time resisting temptation. Your most recent fight happened after she got back from Indiana from a job and she admitted to you that she had cheated on you- yet again- this time with a man who worked for her opponent.

“But it meant nothing! I have no feelings for Chris, you’re the one I actually care about! He- he was just there.”

Of course, she managed to win you back, like she always did. Despite her flaws, you loved her, and you knew she loved you. She worked so hard, courting you, buying you flowers and gifts, helping you study for grad school, and just making you feel special.

But then, of course, she had to leave again.

“Babe, I got another job offer! Claire Debella is running for governor of Connecticut, and she’s being backed by some tech billionaire. I can’t refuse this, I’m gonna make a killing!”

“Does that mean you’ll have to go to Connecticut?”

“It does but- hey, I promise it won’t be like last time, alright? We’ll talk every day, you can visit-“

“Jen, I have school…”

“You can visit on weekends, or breaks. I can pay for your flights. We’ll make this work, okay?”

You agreed, although you didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. You dropped her off at the airport a week later, and she made you another promise.

“Keep your phone on, babe. When I get to the hotel, I’ll send you something extra special.”

And she did. That night you got a photo message captioned “wish you were here ;)”. You opened the photo and it was her, sprawled on her hotel bed, completely naked. God, she was perfect.

You texted her back “I’ll miss that so much”, to which she immediately replied, “send me something back to enjoy tonight! I’m missing u already”

This was not something you and Jen had ever thought to do before, but you complied. You stripped and found a lingerie set Jen had bought you a while back to change into, and started taking photos for her. This became a nightly ritual between the two of you that you kept sacred. You sent her photos of yourself in the various lingerie pieces she kept ordering for you.

“you look even better in that than I thought you would, baby. Let me see from the back”

You sent her another photo of you from the back, bending over and sticking your ass out slightly.

“that’s it, baby. god i wish i was there so i could take you in that position.”

Sometimes Jen would send you audio clips of her moaning as she touched herself to your photos, and you would replay those at night as you imagined you were together, and that she was fucking you.

Jen thought that this would be enough to keep her from giving into her temptations, and truth be told, it was. At least for a while. But that didn’t mean the temptation wasn’t present. This time it was the woman she was working for, Claire Debella herself. It was rare that Jen actually liked one of her candidates, but Claire was smart, had some great ideas, and was gorgeous to boot. The two women would meet daily for coffee in the morning, or drinks at night, and were starting to become actual friends.

The two of them would always start by talking business, campaign strategy, the usual. But they started to venture into talking about their personal lives.

“You dated an intern? And it actually worked out?”

“It did. She was- is- pretty great, and it wasn’t what you’re probably thinking. (Y/n) was the only one there who wasn’t some dumb legacy kid. I had a lot of respect for her, we bonded, one thing led to another and we were sneaking off to the supply closet every day for the rest of the campaign.”

Claire laughed, “I gotta say, Jen, I kinda wish I had a story like that.”

I could give you a story… Jen thought. But she knew better. You were all she wanted, all she needed. She just had to keep reminding herself.

That night you sent her a video of you riding your favorite strap, which Jen of course left at home for your use. For the first time, you weren’t wearing lingerie, you weren’t wearing anything. Jen reveled in the sight of your bare breasts moving up and down. She imagined she was wearing the strap like she usually did, that you were bouncing up and down on her cock, moaning.

“Yes, baby, just like that. You look so pretty riding me baby, just a little more, yes…fuck, good girl… cum for me baby, good girl…”

The next day at work, Jen was conflicted. She couldn’t stop thinking about your video, but she also couldn’t stop thinking about Claire. She wanted you both so much it hurt. She never felt this way before. Jen was used to hooking up no-strings-attached, mostly with men. But you and Claire were different. She walked to her office distracted and in a daze, not having gotten much sleep last night thanks to that video you sent her. Jen felt herself bump into someone, and felt hot coffee spill on her shirt.

Shit. It was Claire. Of course it was Claire.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Are you okay, Jen?”

“Yeah, I just- I didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all. “

“Okay. Don’t worry about it, I have an extra shirt in my office, I’ll let you borrow it.” Claire led Jen up to her office and took off her coffee-stained blazer that covered her otherwise clean dress. The dress hugged all her curves beautifully and showed off her strong, lean arms.

“Here you go.” Claire, for whatever reason, helped Jen take her shirt off, her gaze lingering for a bit before their eyes met. Jen felt vulnerable, exposed. And what’s more, she was enjoying it. She put the shirt on and quickly made a beeline to her own office, shut the door and turned the lights off. She then unbuttoned her dress pants and put your video on, trying to get the image of Claire’s eyes and body out of her head. And it worked.

That is, until she realized she forgot to lock the door. She heard a voice behind her.

“Jen? Jen?”

“Claire! Um, how much did you see?”

“Just a couple seconds. I was going to ask about my speech, but first, I have to ask, that girl you were watching. Is she your girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“God, you’re lucky.” Her eyes darkened as she reached over Jen’s shoulder and pressed play. “Wow, look at her go…”

“You’re not mad?”

“Please. This is nothing. Besides, I can enjoy it myself. If you’ll let me, of course.” Jen breathed a sigh of relief, excited at the possibility that was just presented to her.

“Pull up a chair. Wait until you see all the pretty photos she’s taken for me.” Claire did so, making sure to lock the door behind her so no one could disturb the two of them as they enjoyed you.

“Stunning,” Said Claire, slipping a hand under her dress. “Imagining the two of you together, it’s getting me fucking soaked. You touching her, your girl riding your pretty face-“

“We can make her our girl, Claire. She’ll be into it.”

“Oh, I bet she will be. Such a little slut for us.”

Jen told Claire the plan she came up with to introduce them. Your spring break was coming up, and Jen would buy you a plane ticket to come and visit. The day came, but not as quickly as either of them would like.

Jen picked you up from the airport, just as you had planned. She looked beautiful and put together as always, and you ran into her arms.

“I missed you! I missed you so much Jen!”

“Oh baby, you have no idea. Let’s get back to the hotel and get you all cleaned up, and then I made a dinner reservation. You, me, and Claire Debella.”

“Claire’s coming? I know you two have gotten close during the campaign and I hate to be the jealous girlfriend but should I be worried?”

“Oh, honey, no. She just wants to meet you, that’s all. I think the two of you will really hit it off.”

So you showed up at the restaurant, by Jen’s side, wearing the impossibly short black dress she picked out for you. Claire was already sitting down, and the host led you right to her.

“She’s even prettier in person, Jen. Hi, you must be the famous (y/n). Jen talks about you all the time. I’m Claire Debella, it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

The woman was definitely your type. Powerful, charming, older. And the three of you did hit it off. You talked about the campaign, your classes, and your worried about Claire and Jen were gone. Claire was incredibly friendly to you. A couple cocktails in and you started thinking about how pretty Claire was, about all the things you, her and Jen could do together…

So you cut yourself off. You couldn’t think about that, not when you’ve spent the past few months chastising your own girlfriend, terrified of her cheating on you. You nervously excused yourself to the bathroom, not noticing Jen motioning for Claire to follow you.

“I’ve been waiting to get you alone.” Said Claire as you left the bathroom stall.

“I’m sorry?”

Claire grabbed you and turned around, pinning you against the sink, slightly bent over so that your short little dress slid up.

“Look at you. I wish you could see yourself when you’re like this. Ever since Jen showed me you, I knew I had to have you.”

“Claire, what if someone comes in?”

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She teased, pulling your skirt up further.

“What cute panties you have on. And what an even cuter little wet spot right there. Just from me bending you over like this, where just anyone can walk in and see.” She ran her fingers between your clothed folds, and you stopped yourself from moaning. It felt so good, but you couldn’t betray your girlfriend.

“Claire, this isn’t right. Jen is my girlfriend, I can’t do that to her-“

You were interrupted by a stall door opening behind you.

“It’s so sweet how loyal you are to me baby,” you heard Jen’s voice say from behind, “but right now I want you to let Claire fuck you. She’s wanted to from the moment I showed you to her. I told you this trip would be different, and it sure was. Don’t you wanna let us make you feel good?” At that moment, Claire slipped her hand into your panties, brushing your clit and you let out a moan.

“Good girl,” Claire praised as she teased your pussy some more, slipping a finger inside you as Jen watched eagerly. But Claire quickly pulled out when she heard footsteps coming towards the door. As much as the idea of getting caught turned her on, she was running for office and couldn’t risk it. You whined a bit at the loss but stood up and pulled your skirt down, locking eyes with your girlfriend, smiling at you proudly.

“Why don’t we get the check and get out of here?”

[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.

[neuroprincess]

☆ KATHRYN HAHN'S CHARACTERS MASTERLIST ☆

MAIN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | open requests

♡ fluff | ☆ smut | ❀ angst

⤷ Agatha Harkness

To be written...

⤷ Carla Dunkler

To be written...

⤷ Claire Debella

To be written...

⤷ Eve Fletcher

To be written...

⤷ Olivia Octavius/Doctor Octopus

To be written...

⤷ Headcanons

Agatha Harkness NSFW asks ☆

⤷ Preferences

To be written...

⤷ Special | Fanfiction

Simili (AH; f) ♡☆❀

[syarina]

Favourite Kathryn Hahn's Characters Blogs

• Smut • Fluff • Angst • Dark

Agatha Harkness

The One With The Sick Day

Stupid Beautiful Witch

That’s What She Said

Birthday Mishaps

Dinner For Two

Agatha vs Cold

Cuddling Day

Painting Day

December 6

Hard Day?

Password

Cheesy

Brain

Imagine Agatha Helping You With Your Cutting

The One With Your Brother

Harkness or Y/L/N

Two Wives

Afterglow

Share My Infinite, pt.2, pt.3

Cold Hands

Business Office Pleasure ~ Omega!Claire x Beta!Jen x Alpha!Agatha

Infect Me With Your Lovin', Fill Me With Your Poison

Dying In Your Lips Is How I Wanna Go

The One With The Late Night Session

Make Me Behave Like An Animal

The Very Nosy Neighbour

The One On Her Ship

December 13

The Universe Between Your Hands

Slippery Little Spider, pt.2

Prove Me Wrong, Darling

Claire Debella

Business Office Pleasure ~ Omega!Claire x Beta!Jen x Alpha!Agatha

Sweet Like Candy In My Veins

Fated

Carla Dunkler

Misunderstood Proposal

Imagine Knowing About Carla's Crush On You

Adorable Motivation

Eve Fletcher

What You Need, pt.2

I Think I Saw You

Jennifer Barkley

Joy

Coward

Business Office Pleasure ~ Omega!Claire x Beta!Jen x Alpha!Agatha

Olivia Octavius

Worth Every Damn Courage w/ Agatha Harkness

Extra Complications, pt. 2, pt. 3