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agent-cupcake · 2 years

Text

Double Down

I am on vacation so this might not be very polished but I needed to get the idea out there. It's a very important message.

Pairing: Claude von Riegan x f!reader

Synopsis: Your mischievous husband comes up with a game to keep you entertained at a work party, and you lose.

Warnings: explicit smut

Tags: semi-public sex, use of sex toys in a public setting, face fucking, overstimulation, edging, D/s dynamics

Word Count: 5.2k

“Sure, that sounds fun,” you agreed, refusing to show any sort of reaction to Claude’s proposed plan. It seemed like one of his games, the kind that were meant to push you a little too far just so he could enjoy your reaction, so you didn’t give him one.

“Really?” he asked. Just like you hoped, your response clearly caught him off guard.

You shrugged, smiling coyly. “Why not?”

That was your biggest mistake. You didn’t doubt he would actually go through with it, but you assumed that there would be a point where your agreement would force him to admit he had only been playing, that he would have to relent before things went too far. And then he called your bluff, because Claude von Riegan had never met a line he didn’t at least think about crossing.

And that’s how you found yourself wound up, hot, and desperate, trapped among the expensively dressed elite at a fancy event held to celebrate the various donors and boardmembers of the Riegan family’s company, Leicester.

“Hey, are you alright?” Claude asked you, his tone dripping with sincerity. You narrowed your eyes at his furrowed brow and little frown, knowing it to be false. Nobody would be able to tell by his carefully calculated look of concern what was really going on; he played the role of caring husband perfectly. All night Claude had maintained an immaculate poker face, acting ignorant of your increasingly unraveled state. Taunting you, daring you to give up as he dragged you around to mingle. “You don’t look like you’re feeling so great.”

“You do look rather flushed,” Claude’s current conversation partner, an older gentleman whose name you could not recall, said with a polite frown. You wondered with equal parts horror and amusement what he would say if he knew the details of your ailment, the reason you looked flushed.

“I’m fine,” you told them both with a forced smile, doing everything in your power to ignore the way your pussy clenched around the silicone toy, reminding you of the sick nature of your lie.

You had agreed to wear the little U-shaped vibrator earlier, knowing full well that he had the remote and you were going to be in a very public setting. You knew that and agreed anyway because you thought it would force him to admit that he wasn’t as committed to his whole “devil may care” attitude regarding sex as he usually portrayed. Once again, you had managed to play right into his hand.

Claude had been teasing you ever since the party began, the remote tucked into his pocket to be messed with at his leisure. You could tell the moment he got bored of a conversation or speech because the thing would jolt to life, silent and hidden from everyone except for you. From the maddening lower vibrations that had you straining and squirming to the stronger ones that were nearly painfully overstimulating, he kept you on edge, not allowing you to come but making sure you stayed on that precipice. Playing with you like you were his own personal little puppet to keep the monotony of small talk from getting too tiresome.

The shame and embarrassment weren’t even the worst parts. It was the dreadful, miserable knowledge that Claude wouldn’t let you come. That had been his single rule before leaving, one you hadn’t thought would be that bad because you were used to his teasing. But this was different. You were an idiot for thinking this would ever end in your favor.

“I’m just a bit tired,” you explained, looking at Claude with an expression you hoped conveyed what you really meant. You needed a break.

“I don’t know,” Claude said, his face pinched with the most convincing display of worry you had ever seen. “I hope you’re not coming down with something.” You had to bite your lip to hide your reaction when the vibrator suddenly flicked back on. When your inner walls tensed up, the motion pulled the opposite end of the toy flush against your clit. It was all you could do to stifle a helpless groan, to squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to either displace the toy or get satisfaction from it.

“It is flu season,” the older man offered with a doubtful frown. You avoided his eyes at all costs, embarrassment and pleasure and need and disgust and shame all swelling up inside of you. “Although I know this weather has been terrible for my allergies.”

“That could be it,” Claude said, pressing one hand to your cheek while the other stayed casually in his jacket. The vibrations grew stronger and your knees nearly buckled. His look of concern cracked for a moment and you saw the smug smile begging to break through, covered by the way his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer. “Maybe getting something to drink would help?”

“No, I’m… I’m going to use the restroom,” you told him, pulling free of his hold. “If you gentlemen will excuse me.” The vibrator mercifully shut off, not that it helped you walk normally when you could feel the way it shifted with every step. The best thing to be said was that most people who too absorbed within themselves to pay attention to you. And you just needed some space, a bit of breathing room. At least the toy remained off as you left the main atrium into the dark hallway. Little mercies.

The bathroom was thankfully vacant and, as expected, opulent. Marble countertops, screen display in the mirror, toilet with a bidet, thick paper towels, a nice floral scent, it even had music and some calming ambient lighting. At this point, you weren’t as intimidated by displays of wealth. Even flushed and breathing a bit hard, you looked like you belonged here. Claude had taught you the art of aristocratic artifice quite well. But you didn’t feel so much like a lady right then.. If your dress's hem wasn't the type that hung a little past your knees, the bottom flared with multiple layers of skirts to give it a nice retro flare, you probably would have a spot showing from how wet you were. Over an hour of teasing had sent your body into overdrive, it was agonizing. You could take the toy out, although you weren’t sure where you’d put it. Besides, Claude would probably be unhappy if you were to take away his fun.

While you were stuck considering the risk of what sort of punishment he might come up with versus the reward of sparing yourself, the door opened, shocking you upright. In the mirror, a pair of sparkling green eyes met yours.

“What are you doing?” you demanded. “This is the ladies' room.”

“Shh. I won’t tell if you don’t,” Claude said with a playful smile, locking the door behind himself. The sound made your stomach clench up, your pussy clenching around the toy and reminding you of the terrible ache. Although you would probably say that you had merely forgotten to lock the door, a part of you knew that this was what you wanted to happen, an invitation. “You’ve been so quiet tonight,” he continued, “and then with your dramatic exit, I got a little worried. Is something wrong?”

You frowned at his innocent act, your brow furrowing as you shot him the flattest look you could manage.

“As adorable as it is, pouting isn’t exactly an answer to what I asked,” Claude told you. “Unless that means you’re fine, in which case we should probably get back out there.” He hesitated, feigning an entirely nonchalant demeanor as he looked at your over his shoulder. “Unfortunately, these things tend to run a little long. You don’t mind staying, do you?”

The idea of going back out there like this, having to endure potentially hours more of torture, was too daunting. “Claude, I can’t take any more,” you said, knowing full well you were whining but too distraught to care. He smiled. “I’m being serious!”

“Just a little longer,” he said soothingly. “You’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” you said unhappily. “Please, just… cool it a bit with the…” You gestured vaguely to his suit coat. It was tantamount to admitting defeat, but it was all you could think to do.

“What?” Claude asked with an infuriating amount of cherub-like innocence. “Oh! You mean this?” He held up the remote, holding your eye to make sure you were paying attention as he upped it to the highest setting. You gasped loudly, your legs nearly giving out.

“Ff-Claude!” you said, your voice a hoarse rasp somewhere between a whisper and a shout. “That’s too much.”

“Okay, okay, you can have it,” he said, holding the remote towards you, smiling a truly devilish smile, his skin warmed by the soft lighting and teeth winking in the low light. The vibrator continued its aggressive buzz against your inner walls, your pussy squeezing around it despite the discomfort of overstimulation. Every time it pressed in a particular way against your clit, white hot eletricity shot through your entire body.

“Really?” you asked uncertainly, too used to his antics to believe him at face value.

“Sure,” Claude agreed. “But you’ll have to come get it.” With that, he dropped it back into his pocket.

Normally you had a sense of modesty regarding these things. Claude could have you stripped bare and dripping wet and begging for him to touch you as if you were pleading for your life, but it took time to get there. You played a role, and that usually included a certain amount of hesitance, your desires drawn out of you in a way only he could. It was a matter of basic decency, something that Claude often seemed to lack when it came to teasing and taunting and torturing you.

But your brain was well and truly shorted out and things like shame or propriety no longer had any sort of meaning. You didn’t want the remote, you wanted satisfaction. You wanted Claude. So you gave up on the theater and stumbled towards him, pressing Claude against the door and kissing him desperately. To his credit, he didn’t stop you, letting you pull on his hair and press your body against him needily. You could feel the throaty vibrations of his laugh, but you didn’t care. Not when his hand settled on your waist, not when he grabbed your jaw, and especially not when he bit your lip. All the while the little toy buzzed inside of you, insistent and aggressive, and you wondered if this would be the time he’d let you come. Finally, finally allow you to get off.

Frenzied, your hand dropped from his hair to brazenly map his body through his fancy suit. You cupped his erection through his pants, trying to wind him up even a little bit. Claude groaned, his hips ever so slightly pushing against your hand, but you didn’t linger, hiking up your skirts and taking his hand to press it between your legs in turn. If your soaked panties weren’t the result of an entire night of cruel teasing, the way Claude’s eyes widened upon feeling how wet you were might have been empowering.

“Wow,” he said, sounding out each individual sound to articulate his shock, his fingers gingerly pressing the toy further into you, against you. It almost didn’t even feel good and you knew without a doubt that you would die if he stopped. You clung to the front of his suit, biting back your moans. “You didn’t secretly come while I wasn’t watching, did you?”

You shook your head, hoping it was convincing. That was hard when he was still teasing you with the toy, when all you wanted was to give in to the pleasure and finally get off.

“Really? 'Cause this feels an awful lot like the mess of a naughty girl who came without permission,” Claude teased. Not seductively, he was never so crass. But there was something about the playful banality he maintained while being so filthy that made it that much more potent. “When was it? When I was talking to old man Gloucester? That would be… Actually, that’d be pretty hilarious.”

“I promise I didn’t,” you said, your voice breathless with the fear he wouldn’t believe you, that he wouldn't let you finish.

“You won’t mind if I take a closer look, right?”

Your stomach tensed, breath catching. “What?”

“Just to make sure you’re telling the truth.”

“I am!”

“Then you won’t mind if I take a peek.”

Claude pushed you onto the counter, scooting you all the way back. He flicked your skirt up, opened your legs. With an almost methodical focus, he peeled your panties out of the way so he could get a good view of his handiwork. Whatever he saw made him whistle, impressed.

“Look at you,” he said, his pretty green eyes fixed solely on your pussy. Almost curiously, he adjusted the vibrator, pulled it out in a shallow mimic of a thrust before pushing it even deeper than before, targeting the raw nerves of your clit to make you whine and writhe, trying your best to not make a sound.

“I want to come, please,” you begged helplessly, your eyes squeezed shut. “Just once, it'll be really quick and then-"

“Just once?” Claude asked, his amusement growing in proportion with his cruel restraint. With the same detached curiosity, he separated your outer lips to see the inflamed, swollen flesh beneath, looking at the way your cunt drooled around the toy. Your pussy easily accepted his fingers when he pushed them against your entrance, they slipped in nice and easy beneath the toy. It wasn’t the stretch that made you yelp, it was the torturous way they pressed the vibrating head right against your g-spot. Your hips rolled and bucked, your body torn between actual pain and the build of pleasure.

“Claude! Please, I need to come,” you told him desperately, trying to keep your voice down but knowing you weren’t doing a very good job. “It hurts.”

“Hm. I’m not so sure,” he told you, grinding the vibrator against your spasming walls relentlessly, his other hand keeping you from squirming away. Every movement made you jerk helplessly, your entire body wound up tight. “Honestly, it doesn’t sound like its a very fair deal.”

“Please…” You felt as if you could get off from this, even if it was uncomfortable. It didn’t matter.

Before you could get off, the toy shut off and he slipped his fingers out of you. The sensations had done nothing but torment you, but the loss was worse. A lot worse. Claude pressed against it indulgently, grinding still silicone against your swollen clit. Then he pulled your drenched panties back into place, patting them fondly.

“Sorry,” he told you, entirely unapologetic, “but if I have to wait, you have to wait.”

You whined high in your throat, tears pricking your eyes. At that point, you really had only one option, and limited time to decide if you could follow through. “I’ll blow you,” you told him quickly, sitting up and letting your skirts fall into place. “Really quick, and then we can go back and I won’t complain. Just let me come… please.”

Claude gave you a look that you couldn’t read, although you hoped that it was amusement that danced in his half lidded eyes. “Just to be clear,” he said in an even tone, “you’re offering to perform fellatio in a public woman's bathroom at a fancy company event."

“Sure,” you said, disregarding the fact that he was clearly teasing you by stating it so crudely. “Please?” You put your hand against the front of his pants, rubbing his erection through the fabric. He didn’t react, but you could see the exact moment Claude’s character broke, his smile sharpening and eyes narrowing accusatorily.

“You cunning little hussy,” he said, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand off of him. Then he sighed heavily, his dark eyes scanning you slowly. “I really ought to say no, I’m supposed to be setting a good example.” His thumb pressed against your bottom lip idly. “Then again, how can I refuse someone who’s in such a tough spot? That’s pretty antithetical to all our speeches about ethics and responsibility.”

“So I can?” you asked hopefully.

“But you better hurry,” Claude told you, stepping back. “I’d hate for people to suspect we’re up to anything indecent.”

Usually you needed more than that to fall on your knees in front of him and play the slut. Usually he had to entice you to open your mouth for him. Usually he had to employ all manner of honeyed words and teasing threats to get you to stick your tongue out for his use. This time, you didn’t so much as pause before sliding off the counter and falling to your knees.

You watched Claude unzip his pants with hungry eyes, your flushed chest heaving with each panted breath. His cock was half hard, stiffening as he casually stroked himself in a borderline taunting way right in front of your face. When you made to reach for him, desperate to touch, Claude clicked his tongue disapprovingly. You froze, looking up at him with searching eyes.

“If you wanna make yourself come, you’ll need both your hands,” Claude said, far too composed for a man with his dick out. “But that’s fine. All I really need is your mouth.” He spoke so casually, but there was a dare in the quirk of his eyebrow, in that infuriating upturn twisting the corner of his lips.

With the toy still inside of you, you could feel exactly how dramatically your pussy unconciouslessly tightened in response to what he was proposing. This man was going to be the death of you. It wasn’t necessarily true that you needed both hands, not when all you were really going to need was a bit of pressure on the vibrator, but there was no point in arguing with him. That wasn’t the point.

You dutifully shuffled forward, with your legs spread apart for balance and your hand diving beneath your skirts. It was awkward to hold them out of the way and the floor was not at all comfortable to kneel on, but you couldn’t care less.

“Aren’t you going to…?” you asked pointedly, looking at his pocket where he’d put the remote.

“I thought you asked me to… what was it you… Cool it?” Claude asked casually, the tip of his cock nudging against your lips as he stroked himself. “You seemed pretty unhappy when I had it on earlier.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you turned away slightly. “Claude…”

"Nah, I’m just messing with you,” he said with a big smile. The vibrator switched back on. You jolted with the sensation, letting out a breathy gasp. It created the perfect opening for him to push into your mouth, his cock sliding through the excess saliva that had pooled on your tongue. You choked a little before you got ahold of yourself, the familiar taste of his cock filling your mouth.

Part of you wanted to look up at him, to admire the way pleasure played across his beautiful face, but you knew you didn't have much time and there was only so much multitasking you could do. Relax your jaw and open your throat and get to work, your eyes squeezed shut as you adjusted the vibrator.

Claude started slow, holding your head in place so he could thrust lazily into your mouth rather than pulling you back and forth like a cocksleeve. The taste of him filled your senses, something you were very familiar with by now. While not entirely pleasant, the scent, the weight, the rhythm—was all Claude. Intoxicating Claude. You used your tongue as much as you could, closing your lips around him to suck in between strokes. It was loud and messy, but it was how he liked it and, honestly, that was all that mattered. You matched his pace with the toy, using the bridge of the U shape to tease the sore muscles of your entrance, the head bumping against your overstimulated clit. Your other hand braced against his thigh, fingers digging into the taut muscle hidden beneath carefully fitted and pressed pants.

"While I hate to pin the blame on you while you’re in such a difficult spot," Claude said as if continuing a conversation you hadn’t been involved in. “I have to point out that all of this is your own fault. I mean, you're the one who wanted to try this. Really, I was only doing what you wanted.” He was venturing deeper now, testing your gag reflex to see if you flinched. It was a source of great pride that you didn't. He was a good teacher. "If I recall correctly, you were all but begging me to do something to spare you the boredom of parties like these," he continued, only slightly strained as he pushed even deeper with each thrust. “It’s not like I get anything out of it.”

You peeked up at him with squinted eyes, making a noise approximating disagreement because that absolutely wasn't true. But he knew that, his impish grin and the dangerously smoldering green of his eyes beneath those inky lashes said everything. He turned up the vibrator a notch and you groaned helplessly, the sound making Claude surge in your mouth.

"But, because I’m a good husband, I played along," Claude agreed, his grip on your hair tightening so you didn't pull away. “And now you seduced me into such a compromising situation anyway, thinking you can get away with it because of those doe eyes.” He cut himself off, pausing for a moment to stifle a moan. “The worst part is that you’re right. How could I not feel bad?”

As irritated as you could pretend to be by his antics—his bold faced lies—both of you knew it was only making you hotter, your cunt clenched so tight around the vibrator that it hurt. You groaned low, your hips shakily grinding against nothing as that coil of pleasure in your core tightened. The way you pushed the toy around, desperately trying to mimic the way Claude was fucking your mouth, became less calculated in your need for raw sensation. But Claude was ever demanding, you had to remind yourself to relax your throat before you choked. He was getting rougher now, clearly not trying to savor this. Neither were you, really.

"But I know the truth. I mean, what kind of girl wears a sex toy in public?" Claude continued, his voice unsteady and distracted, talking more for the sake of it than because he was thinking about words. "And while we're surrounded by the upper echelon of Fódlan elite! Really shocking stuff. Here I thought you were this sweet, shy little thing. But you're not, are you? No, you're… God's, you're—"

Claude moaned, the sound too unconscious for him to properly stifle. His hips jumped forward needily and, this time, he did pull you down, forcing you forward to meet his thrust until your nose was buried in the dark hair at the base of his cock. Taking him all the way like this wasn't natural or comfortable, but that wasn't the point. Breathing didn’t matter, your body’s natural response didn’t matter, nothing mattered except for making Claude happy. You swallowed, savoring the wrongness of your throat muscles contracting against such a large intrusion.

You could imagine the same weight in your cunt, far more satisfying than the little vibrator. When he’d fingered you earlier, you had been able to feel how swollen you were. It would probably hurt a bit if he were to fuck you hard and fast when you were so over-sensitized, your muscles sore from overuse and caught between white hot overstimulation and buzzing numbness. The thought alone was the thing to send you over the edge, shuddering as the pleasure finally burst, the tension snapping lax.

Claude didn’t stop, didn’t even pause. He just hissed out a breath, his hips shallowly thrusting deep into your mouth, pitilessly bumping the back of your throat. The lack of oxygen was frightening, and it was difficult to fight back your body's urge to gag. The way he held you in place was so deliciously cruel and dominant, there was nothing else. Only Claude, and your existence as something for him to use. That tugged out the sweetness of finally getting off, your orgasm overcoming every discomfort in this blinding surge of lustful bliss.

“Swallow,” he told you. An order, although Claude never bothered to sound authoritative, knowing you would do what he said anyway.

It was so cruel, so horrible to ask that when you were suffocating. But you found a way to swallow around him again, and your body registered that as it always did, your inner walls clamping down hard around the toy, pressing it hard against your g-spot. Despite the sudden rush of fresh overstimulation. Shaking with the intensity of pleasure, you ground the vibrator into your clit, uncaring that it hurt against the overstimulated flesh. You told him you just wanted to come once, but that wasn’t enough. It never was.

"Perfect," Claude groaned, drawing back with a deluge of saliva slipping out the seam between your lips and his cock, drooling down your chin and onto the clean tile floor. Despite how badly you needed to breathe, he really didn’t give you a chance. Every aspect of it was so filthy, uncomfortable. It was so hot. "Such a good girl for me, I’m really…"

He was close now, his pace uneven and cock hard and heavy against your tongue. If things had sounded lewd before, it was nothing in comparison to the depraved slurping and squishing and moaning as you did your best to match his desperate chase of pleasure. Even with your mouth stuffed full, your moans and grunts and breaths fucked silent, you could hear the sound you made as you came again, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack as Claude continued to fuck your mouth. That seemed to be the thing because his fingers pulled hard at your hair.

"Mm, I'm gonna—fuck." Claude groaned, the only warning you got before he dragged you back down, his cock forced down your throat as his hips jerked, shallowly thrusting to work himself through release. You just swallowed, over and over, your throat working around his dick so you didn't end up choking on the hot bursts of cum, both of your hands braced on his thighs.

Once he was done, Claude pulled out, a fresh wave of saliva following. It had formed a puddle on the clean tile. You fell back, head spinning from a lack of oxygen. You let your jaw shut woodenly, blinking as if waking up.

"Hey, let me see," Claude said. The vibrator shut off. You blinked a few more times, looking up at him blankly. Then you remembered, and opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue to show him it was pink and clean. At this point, shame was a vague memory. Claude grinned, an oddly boyish look considering the satisfied, predatory gleam in his eye. "You never cease to amaze me." He pet your hair gently, and you hummed happily.

Claude fixed his clothes somewhat, fly and belt roguishly loose, before holding out a hand. You were shaky, and hot, and a little dazed. He helped you to your feet to lean against the counter. With his pants back in place, he looked no worse for wear as he washed his hands. Maybe there was more of a reddish flush on his cheeks, a shiny glaze to his pretty eyes, but nothing that would give away what happened. You, on the other hand, looked rough. He hadn’t so much as touched you and you looked debauched, blushing and sweaty and panting, your hair a mess from his rough handling. The dormant toy still inside of you served as a continuous reminder of how badly you wanted him to fuck you, your shaky legs and slightly sore jaw and throat and the taste of cum and cock lingering on your tongue doing nothing to nullify that ache.

But you had told him you would be good. Trying to salvage your appearance, you washed your hands as well, rinsing your mouth out and trying to smooth out the mess he’d made of your hair. Claude produced a pack of gum and a small sleeve of makeup wipes from his pockets, which made you raise an eyebrow.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you planned this exact thing,” you said, accepting the gum. The cinnamon flavor was abrasive enough to make you feel less like somebody who had just let her husband fuck her throat in the bathroom during a fancy business event.

He shrugged glibly. “I like to be prepared. Here, look at me,” Claude told you, gently turning you by the shoulder to face him. You allowed him to tilt your chin up and carefully dab the skin beneath your eyes with the wipe, cleaning up the mascara tears. You looked at his pursed lips, somehow feeling too shy to meet his eyes.

"How much longer do we have to stay?" you asked.

"I told you it could be a while,” he replied, giving you a once over before deciding you were appropriately cleaned up. “As frustrating as it can be, these things are a part of the gig.”

“Maybe I am sick,” you said, looking at yourself again. You looked a bit better, at least. Less obviously debauched. The flush could, to somebody who didn’t have a filthy mind, look like a fever. “I heard the flu was going around, and my throat is awfully sore…”

“Hey, you offered.”

“Only because you’ve been torturing me all night!” you told him with a frown.

“Is that a fact?” Claude asked, raising an eyebrow. You realized with a sinking sort of horrified lust that you shouldn’t have said anything, especially not that. “You know, I was ready to give it up and call it a draw.”

“Claude…”

“The website said it has a pretty long battery life,” he mused, brushing past you. “Guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Claude, don’t,” you said with a frown, your sore pussy clenching around the silicone toy. There was no way you could endure more. No way.

“You should go first, it’ll look less suspicious that way,” he told you, unlocking the door. “Go wait at our table, I’ll join you in a few.”

“Give me the remote first,” you said.

“Nuh-uh, you had your chance,” he told you, wagging his finger in a playful way. “Multiple chances, really.”

“It hurts,” you whined.

“I could always just put it on high and see how long it takes to burn itself out. If you would rather that-”

“You’re mean,” you told him, but a sick part of you flushed hot at the threat. Not because it would be nice, you thought it would be abjectly horrible, but because it was Claude threatening you.

“This is the price you pay for playing games you can’t win,” Claude told you with a shrug and a grin. “Better luck next time.”

#claude von riegan #fe claude #claude von riegan x reader #fe claude x reader #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #not sfw #my writing #if there are errors pls ignore i wrote most of this on an airplane and drunk on pina colada

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