before you throw | those stones at me.

FIC: Descent [NC-17, Explicit]

  • Aug. 21st, 2009 at 4:31 AM
noexitwounds: (Heroes + Sylar In Profile)
Descent by RedHillBones/NoExitWounds
Rated Mature for violence, language, and sex. Contains rape
Fandom/Characters: Heroes; Sylar/Claire, Molly Walker
Kink: Facials


* * *

Claire had agreed to have a child with him, which had been beyond his wildest expectations when he'd begun this plan, at least this far along. He'd thought he'd have to break her, force her into loving him, before she agreed to that but as she lay next to him, sighing quietly and staring back, he already had her permission. He kissed her on the cheek and stood up, stripping off the rest of his clothing sloppily. Once he'd freed himself of clothing he dropped back down on the bed and ran a hand over the beautiful new design on her back.

A marking, in the only way a woman like her could be marked. The rings were buried in her skin, which healed around it already, and tied with a ribbon that matched her eyes at their angriest. He enjoyed the physical symbol of his possession and tugged on one of part of the ribbon gently, getting a hitch of breath from her, before he dropped down on his back.

Her eyes slid over to him suspiciously, at his hardening dick and his hands coming up to rest behind his head. She blew out a little breath. Then she pushed herself up and shifted over to straddle him. Oh, he liked this idea. The idea of her riding him.

“Good girl,” he praised, cupping her face when it came into reach.

Grabbing his hand unexpectedly, she shoved them both down to the sides of his head and held them there. “Keep them here.” When she reached underneath her body, between theirs, he decided to let this play out and her hand pumped his aching cock a couple of times before she lined it up with her entrance and –

“Fuck.”

She giggled, but it didn't sound mocking. “You really like that, don't you?” Her hand slammed back on the one she'd let up and she leaned over even as her hips thrust down and buried him deeper inch by inch.

“Yes,” he hissed. “You're beautiful.” Amazing. A work of art. Mine. “We belong together, Claire.”

“Maybe,” Claire admitted, her long blonde hair trailing across his chest as she shifted her hips up. “But right now I just want to have fun. So, shh, stay still and let me take control.”

It didn't go with his plan but he liked the idea anyway, his cock twitching with excitement within her. He nodded, his brown-black hair tangling a little against the pillow, and relaxed into the bed as she began a slow, inexorable climb off of his hard dick and then slid her grasping, wet pussy back down on him. He groaned, hissed, his eyes slid shut. “Good. Girrrrl.”

The place started out slow, leisurely, as Claire checked her position on top of him. Her firm, uncertain body balanced with the curiosity of youth, a beautiful, tan Athena – he had no illusions she was something so useless and helpless as Aphrodite – above him packed into a tiny form. Every time she slid down, his lower stomach brushed against the ring in her clit, making her gasp, and every time she raised up she shifted off of him to use the head of his cock as friction. Selfish but enjoying herself and Sylar could definitely live with that. He smiled up at her, letting her control the pace, letting her ride him, as he drunk in the presence of her. Her mind fluttered with so many thoughts, so many things, but, as she bottomed out on his cock again and suppressed a squeal, only one thought remained dominant: a little blonde girl with green eyes, like them.

“Do you want a son or a daughter?” he asked, testing her.

“I don't know.” She grunted as she sped up the pace, gripping the head of his cock with the tight, trained muscles of her wonderful cunt. “Uh, a, a little girl might be nice. A daughter.” Her nails bit into his palms as she leaned more weight into him, using him to balance herself as she lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped, perfectly.

“I love you.” She couldn't, wouldn't, say it back yet, but he could live with that.

He struggled to get his hand free and she glared at him when he did, until his hand went down to her wet cunt and rubbed roughly against her clit. Then her eyes just went wide and unfocused as she panted. “Oh, oh, oh.” Little breaths squeaked from her with every stroke and she sped up the pace, bucking almost wildly now. “Oh. Oh! OH.” Her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy as her cunt clenched tight around him, spasming over and over.

He let out an almost animal groan, still thumbing her clit and the ring in it as he reached down and added a finger to her already full entrance. Claire whimpered at the unexpected addition and he had to smile at that as it triggered her into another orgasm. “You're so responsive, babydoll,” he uncharacteristically cooed. “You're such a good girl. People should be awed by you, proud of you, instead of trying to hide you away, forcing me to hide you away. It's wrong. You belong in the fight. You could help.”

Her eyes flew open, disbelieving, wary, but the blanch honesty on his face made her expression soften enough it almost broke. “It's wrong you're the only one that sees that.”

“But I do see it because I see you.” He struggled to sit up some and was rewarded with a hungry, sweet kiss from his baby. God, he knew she thought he was delusional but he did love her and, with time, she would come to love him too. He pulled his finger out of her and pinched his index finger and thumb together to tug on the ring settled securely in her rather large clit.

Moaning in response, she dropped her head down to rest it on his chest, not so much riding him now as resting there. He smiled, kissed the top of her head, and flipped them over without coming out of her. She huffed beneath him but settled quickly as he hurried up the pace again, driving into her like a man possessed by the spirits of lust. He'd told her – told her – one of his most private, humiliating experiences and he didn't regret it. He could feel the change in her, both the horror at her father and the sympathy, however brief, she'd felt for him.

He could be a good monster but he'd rather be a great man.

As his hips drove him down deep inside of her, jarring her clit ring every time, she built up to another orgasm. Her over-sensitized body seemed starved for attention, for touch, for something to react to, and he happily gave it to her. His mouth dropped onto her hard, swollen nipples and he sucked them in turn, almost gently, as she moaned above him. He planned to make her come four times again, because he liked the number and he liked to see the pleasure on her face. For now her features scrunched up, she shivered and arched, and stopped breathing as the orgasm rocked through her, collapsing underneath him as it triggered his own release as he spurted inside of her. “Good girl. I love you.”

She turned her head to the side, refusing to answer as he rode the waves of pleasure out and then slipped from her. Before she could curl up on her side he pinned her legs down and got low between them, driving his tongue against her clit. Up here she tasted only of how much she wanted him and her muscles twitched and clenched in aftershocks and new arousal. Her hand came down and gripped his hair. It pushed him onto her open sex and he willingly obliged, licking, nipping, sucking her swollen clit as she huffed and cried out. She cried out “More.” and that's what he gave her. He used the TK to make it feel as if phantom hands were touching her everywhere, inside and outside every inch of her, and Claire gave a high pitched squeal. “SY- SHIT.” Not quite ready to scream his name yet.

Then she arched into his waiting mouth, drenching his face with her come and a few of the remnants of his. He licked it up, enjoying the mix of their tastes, and even dipped a finger in when he was done, bringing it up to her lips. She sucked it off like a baby with a bottle and sighed in contentment as she tried to move to her side. He didn't let her.

“No. I want to hold you.”

He could hear 'clingy' coming from her but, then, he was, wasn't he? Honest, honest Claire. “Okay.” For a moment she held her arm up, giving him room to slip his arm around her waist, so he did exactly that and brushed up against her warm, marked back.

“Sylar?” she mumbled a few minutes later, already close to falling asleep. He nudged her back to tell her to keep going. “Why didn't you wait for me to be ready? I know you said 'poor impulse control' but it had to be more than that.”

He swallowed but perhaps she could handle the truth. There would be a lot of hard truths between them in the future, an eternity of them, so he kissed the back of her neck and told her, “Angela Petrelli and her Company stole my life from me. My mother, the idea I had another family with them – twice now with this latest duplicity. I want, no, need a family. It's my best chance to stop myself.” She wanted him to stop. He didn't want to be the monster. Why couldn't he be the hero for once? He'd have done good things as president. “Even the shop that I loved. I used to love being a watchmaker. It was simple, yes, and many people find it boring, but I had a talent and a passion for it. It belonged to me.

“All her lying, thieving, and controlling did was hurt us. She gave you away, to be raised by a Company man, while she protected her legitimate sons and Nathan's other children. You were nothing to her, like I was nothing to her, until you had a power and even then – Angela's a bitch, plain and simple. She left you with a man who barely had time for you, who abandoned you again and again, who --” he'd read this in her mind during that fun night at Primatech and it had horrified him – “let you die without so much as coming to check on you because of his obsession with me. During the eclipse Elle and I were trying to start over, to escape from the expectations of those around us. Elle got shot. We were trying to flee and he followed us to a grocery store. In the backroom, with the stock, I shoved Elle into the freight elevator and forced her to go so that he wouldn't catch her. And then we fought but without my powers it wasn't a fair match. He beat me and then he gloated as he slit my throat.” Claire shivered a little against him and he hugged her tighter. “He's not worth your love.”

“He's my father. I can't just stop loving him,” she told him as he stroked her hair. He knew that already, she had a big heart.

“I realize. It would save you a lot of pain if you could.” His dick started to harden again and he nudged her legs apart, sliding into her most sensitive, private spot. The one that only he had seen, as it should be. She actually sighed a little as they began to rock. For the next stretch of time they both stayed silent except for the rushed, heavy breathing, and he drew out the sensation of being buried in her. Of belonging in her. Here, this was right where he belonged, where he would be accepted, whether she wanted it or not. “Good girl. You're such a strong woman.” Surprise flooded through her and he smiled against the top of her head. “You'd have to be to keep up with me, let alone put me down. I was very impressed with that, by the way.”

“I live to impress you,” she muttered dryly, her tone biting but closer to being the truth than she thought so he chuckled.

Oh, you will someday. Someday very soon. For now he contented himself with calling her a good girl once more and, despite the leisurely pace his already sensitized cock twitched expectantly and he emptied inside of her. It triggered her own orgasm which stole the thought and breath away from her as she screamed, “Oh, yes! GOOODDD.” It sounded pornographic on her lips and if he could have he'd have gone erect again. “Um.”

Sylar knew he could make her say 'thank you for making me come, Sylar' and dig the humiliation in, but for now he nuzzled the top of her neck, wrapped his arm tight around her middle, and held her.

* * *

Comments welcomed in all forms. (Please do!) Feedback/concrit cherished. All typos mine (and probably hilariously inappropriate).

Additional parts: One ; Two ; Three ; X ; Four ; X ; Five.