cruiscin_lan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cruiscin_lan) wrote2009-03-11 12:00 am
cruiscin_lan) wrote2009-03-11 12:00 am
Fic: Girlfriend
Title: Girlfriend
Characters: Doyle/Claire
Rating: R
Word Count: 566
Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of Heroes or its characters
Spoilers/Warnings: Nonviolent noncon.
Summary: Doyle's looking for love in the wrong way.
A/N: Originally written for the YAHAKM.
She never should have tried to help him. He had lied to her when he said he'd changed. She had suspected it from the beginning, but she learned it for sure the hard way.
She hadn't even known he was there in her room; suddenly she found herself compelled to undress, even though she wasn't tired or ready for bed. He had hidden in her closet, waiting for her return, and by the time he revealed himself Claire found herself seated at the end of her bed completely nude.
"You," she hissed at him as he sat down beside her. Her hands went to his neck, and though she wanted to choke him, to strangle him for this indignity, she started unbuttoning his shirt instead. Claire tried resisting with every fibre in her body, but it wasn't enough. Her voice cracked with fear as she cried, "Why are you doing this?"
"Claire, Claire, Claire," Doyle cooed, tsk-tsk-tsking. "There's nothing to be afraid of. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you." He undid his own pants, pulling them off, leaving them to mingle with her clothes on the floor.
She tried to pull her hand away, but it moved almost of its own accord, stroking Doyle's chest and moving down his ample girth. She could only shut her eyes, tears springing forth from the sides, as she unwillingly gripped his erection.
"There, there, now, don't cry," Doyle said. "I'm sorry, I forgot - ladies first." With that, he laid Claire down on the bed, and though she struggled, she found her arms planted firmly at her sides, her legs spread apart. Doyle positioned himself there between her thighs, opening his mouth as he parted her soft blonde curls. Claire stared at the ceiling as Doyle fucked her with his lips, his tongue. Ripples of pleasure coursed through her veins, accompanied by bile rising into her mouth. She wasn't sure whether she'd come or throw up first.
Fortunately, neither happened, as Doyle lost his wind after a few minutes. Unfortunately, he climbed on top of her, pressing his member into her slit as he tried to press his lips to hers. She somehow forced her head to turn, trying to escape at least that violation, and Doyle whispered into her ear. "You don't have to do anything, Claire," he told her. "You're so beautiful already." He laughed as he mangled a movie quote - "You had me hard from hello."
He was sweaty and hairy, and Claire's skin itched where it touched his. She found her hands clasped behind Doyle's head; it was his an imitation of love, a faked romance. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Doyle's mouth turn up at the corners in a sincere yet sinister smile. He gazed at her profile in admiration, and somehow that made her insides twist even more.
A sob caught in her throat, but Claire forced it back. She was stronger than this, she was stronger than this, she repeated to herself each time Doyle thrust into her. Finally he came and collapsed on top of her, and her chest heaved under his weight. She struggled to gather enough breath to speak.
"Now please, go, leave me alone," Claire whimpered. "You got what you wanted."
"But cuddling is the best part, sweetheart," Doyle said lowly, as he lay to her side and wrapped his arms around her.
Characters: Doyle/Claire
Rating: R
Word Count: 566
Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of Heroes or its characters
Spoilers/Warnings: Nonviolent noncon.
Summary: Doyle's looking for love in the wrong way.
A/N: Originally written for the YAHAKM.
She never should have tried to help him. He had lied to her when he said he'd changed. She had suspected it from the beginning, but she learned it for sure the hard way.
She hadn't even known he was there in her room; suddenly she found herself compelled to undress, even though she wasn't tired or ready for bed. He had hidden in her closet, waiting for her return, and by the time he revealed himself Claire found herself seated at the end of her bed completely nude.
"You," she hissed at him as he sat down beside her. Her hands went to his neck, and though she wanted to choke him, to strangle him for this indignity, she started unbuttoning his shirt instead. Claire tried resisting with every fibre in her body, but it wasn't enough. Her voice cracked with fear as she cried, "Why are you doing this?"
"Claire, Claire, Claire," Doyle cooed, tsk-tsk-tsking. "There's nothing to be afraid of. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you." He undid his own pants, pulling them off, leaving them to mingle with her clothes on the floor.
She tried to pull her hand away, but it moved almost of its own accord, stroking Doyle's chest and moving down his ample girth. She could only shut her eyes, tears springing forth from the sides, as she unwillingly gripped his erection.
"There, there, now, don't cry," Doyle said. "I'm sorry, I forgot - ladies first." With that, he laid Claire down on the bed, and though she struggled, she found her arms planted firmly at her sides, her legs spread apart. Doyle positioned himself there between her thighs, opening his mouth as he parted her soft blonde curls. Claire stared at the ceiling as Doyle fucked her with his lips, his tongue. Ripples of pleasure coursed through her veins, accompanied by bile rising into her mouth. She wasn't sure whether she'd come or throw up first.
Fortunately, neither happened, as Doyle lost his wind after a few minutes. Unfortunately, he climbed on top of her, pressing his member into her slit as he tried to press his lips to hers. She somehow forced her head to turn, trying to escape at least that violation, and Doyle whispered into her ear. "You don't have to do anything, Claire," he told her. "You're so beautiful already." He laughed as he mangled a movie quote - "You had me hard from hello."
He was sweaty and hairy, and Claire's skin itched where it touched his. She found her hands clasped behind Doyle's head; it was his an imitation of love, a faked romance. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Doyle's mouth turn up at the corners in a sincere yet sinister smile. He gazed at her profile in admiration, and somehow that made her insides twist even more.
A sob caught in her throat, but Claire forced it back. She was stronger than this, she was stronger than this, she repeated to herself each time Doyle thrust into her. Finally he came and collapsed on top of her, and her chest heaved under his weight. She struggled to gather enough breath to speak.
"Now please, go, leave me alone," Claire whimpered. "You got what you wanted."
"But cuddling is the best part, sweetheart," Doyle said lowly, as he lay to her side and wrapped his arms around her.