alwaysenduphere (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alwaysenduphere) wrote2008-01-12 03:39 pm
alwaysenduphere) wrote2008-01-12 03:39 pm
Fic: Salvation (5/5 Completed!)
Title: Salvation (5/5 Completed!)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
darkmerrick
Word Count: 1948
Rating: R
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Elle
Spoilers:its in the Five Years Gone Universe
Disclaimers: sigh. I made them do what I wanted them to, but i definitely don't own them
Summary: Peter and Elle finally reach an understanding with each other. (gosh, I suck at summaries)
A/n: It's DONE!!! I did it! I was so afraid it wouldn't work out, that I couldn't write it, but I think I did okay. I'm pretty sure this is the longest fanfic I've ever written (there will be more to come, though, i'm sure). Hooray for Peter and Elle being my playthings!
(/overeager excitment)
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
Unexpected indeed. Elle herself didn’t even know what action she would choose after hearing the words come out of his mouth. The bomb, him. The man she’s been searching for for months, hoping he could be her salvation. All this time, she’s been carrying this overwhelming hate for Sylar, for destroying her naïve life, destroying her father’s career. And all this time, she’s hated the wrong person. But when Peter tells her it was him, she can see the guilt eating him alive inside, and she realizes that nothing she can do to take out her pain on him would ever compare to what he takes out on himself everyday. Peter Petrelli, the boy full of optimism and an unwavering need to save the world, crushed down into oblivion with the knowledge that instead of saving the world, he’s damned it.
So when she kisses him, she does it with the knowledge that he’s suffered enough, that he needs something to stop the pain. She knows what that feels like; it’s her reason for being here in the first place, but now her reason’s something other, something deeper and more pure than anything she’s ever felt. She’s never loved anyone, not in a way other than familial with Bob, so she can’t be certain of what she feels. But she feels something for this man, something she’s not ready to let go of. So her heart takes control, and she kisses him.
She becomes more playful as the kiss deepens, and when he pulls away, she’s not ready to let him go. The shock is intentional, only slightly difficult to control for her. She looks to Peter’s face, hoping he doesn’t take it the wrong way. But he only pants, and looks at her curiously for several moments, before a wicked grin spreads on his face, almost matching the one she knows is on hers. He lifts her from beside him then, sits her on his lap. They’re face to face, so close together their noses brush if they move. She stares into his deep brown eyes. They’re still red and swollen from the amount of tears he’s shed in the last few hours, but something burns behind them now, penetrating and fiery. She kisses each of his cheeks then, tasting the remnants of salty tears. He breathes, “Elle,” and she stops, looking up at him expectantly.
“I may have come here wanting something you couldn’t give me, Peter Petrelli. But in the course of this day, I’ve found there is something you can give me, and I want it. I want you.” She slides her mouth back onto his and lets all the passion she has flow into him.
**
He’s glad she wants him, because he wants her too. The awareness builds in him quicker and quicker, and once she’s on top of him, it’s all he can do to hold back, take his time. It’s been a long while since he’s felt so passionately about someone; about anything, really. The last time he can remember is Simone, but there’s the past rearing it’s ugly head, and he didn’t want that.
He tries to take his time, but it’s so hard. He runs his hands over her legs straddling him, marvels at the smoothness of her skin, slowly pushing her skirt up above her hips, but once the black panties are in view again (he’s forgotten about them in the hours since his first viewing), his control slips, and he pulls the dress up over her head ferociously. She just smiles, watching him intently with those big blue eyes of hers. For a moment, he stares at her, losing himself in the ocean of those eyes, seeking, searching for shock or hurt, anything that would make him stop doing what he’s about to do. But he only sees trust, hope, joy, and the ever-sneaking suspicion of love in there as well. He’s not sure how he feels about that, but as her nimble fingers slide under his shirt and it’s no longer a matter of feeling, only one of doing.
He tears his shirt off, letting her hands roam his free skin. Goosebumps form as she lightly shocks him occasionally, looking timidly at him each time for acceptance. He likes it, he’ll admit it, and he urges her to continue.
He’s begun a trail of kisses from her mouth on down, and when he reaches a nipple and slowly sucks on it, she lets out a little moan from on top of him. He stops instantly, meeting her eyes. “What’d ya stop for?” she demands, but he only grins, big, strong, lopsided grin like he hasn’t given in years, and he knows it.
He’s still grinning when he goes back to work on her nipple, teasing and sucking all while she writhes underneath him. He knows she’s still caught up in the pleasure of his mouth when she squeals in surprise as his roaming hands find their way to underneath her panties. She bucks the moment he rubs over her, and as he continues, the little shocks she’s been sending out become less controlled and more powerful. He takes them, not minding the pain, knowing that the pleasure she’s deriving from such a small moment is worth it, watching her face. The child’s innocence is gone, the woman’s fearfulness replaced also. All that’s left is pure bliss, and he revels in the fact that he’s making her feel this way.
He pulls his hand away before she climaxes, and she looks at him, surprised and expectant. He takes her by the hips and adjusts the both of them into the right position. He looks deep into her eyes, searching for an answer. “Elle…” he starts.
There’s a sudden iciness to her figure, brief but there, as she says, “It’s okay, just get it over with. I’m used to the initial shock, no pun intended.” He wonders what exactly she means, wonders if that means she’s been forced into this position before. He wants her to know that there’s no forcing involved this time, so he kisses her, softly and gently, then pulls back and looks deep into the stormy ocean of her eyes. She nods, and he slowly works himself into her. She moans a little, and he can’t tell whether its one of pain or pleasure, but she makes no move to stop him so he continues.
He pushes and pulls her up and down on top of him, letting the pleasure wash over him, a feeling he hasn’t felt in such a long time. Her eyes never leave his, and when she starts moving up and down on her own, it’s something he knows he’s never felt before. His whole body shudders as he closes in on release, feels her muscles contracting around him. Sparks fly from her fingers, from her lips as they caress every inch of him, but he doesn’t care. All he feels is her, around him, on top of him, enjoying him.
**
It’s something she’s never felt before, Peter Petrelli is. All her other experiences with sex have been rough, violent, almost forced. But he’s taken such great care to be gentle, waiting for her to consent. She relishes in it, in the care he’s giving, in the feeling he’s giving her.
Her release floods over her as she’s bobbing up and down on top of him, and she’s never felt so good in her life. She lets sparks fly, not caring the damage she could be inflicting on her new puppy. Seconds later, she feels him shuddering underneath of her, reaching his orgasm as well. She pants on top of him, her muscles still contracting and releasing around him as he softens, and she smiles.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers as he brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes, and its then she knows she’s found something she never wants to let go of.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she replies, running her fingers tentatively over his scar. “Is this from the explosion?”
His eyes darken, and she hopes she hasn’t overstepped her boundaries. “We don’t have boundaries, love,” he says, and she frowns, slightly uncomfortable at him reading her thoughts. “Sometimes I can’t help it,” he chuckles, and his face lightens back up. He answers her question. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.”
**
He places his hands on her hips and slowly slides her off of him. When the cold air hits him, meeting the wetness she’s left behind, he shivers. She chuckles then, and lays her head on his shoulder. He entwines his fingers with hers, and they lay there for awhile.
His mind wonders off, reviewing the last few years he’s spent in despair. Then this girl, this beautiful girl swept into his life, and it’s as though those years have magically disappeared. He still feels the regret, the guilt in taking lives, but it’s not threatening to overwhelm his very being anymore; he’s moving past it, moving on and accepting this new life he’s found with her. It’s then that a thought occurs to him. “Elle?”
She nuzzles his shoulder. “Yes, dear Peter?”
“What now?”
She looks up at him again, and he meets her swirling blue eyes, all sorts of hope mixed with fear and curiosity in them. “I’m not leaving, if that’s what you’re asking. I wouldn’t dare after this. You’ve given me something I didn’t think was possible for me anymore.”
It’s just the answer he was looking for, just the one he dared hope for. Hope. Now there was something he thought he’d never have again, and yet there it was, overpowering him. “Good,” he says, “Because that’s exactly the way I feel about you.” He places a soft kiss on her forehead as she snuggles close to him in the oversized chair.
**
Hours later, as she’s still lying in Peter’s arms, it hits her. She giggles. “What?” he bemuses.
“Do you want me to show you or tell you?”
“Whichever.” She hoped he’d say that, wicked grin spreading across her face. She points her index finger at his nose, several inches away, and blue electricity shoots out. “Ouch, Elle! I’m not a toy!”
You could be, she thinks to herself.
“I heard that. And I won’t be, ever, just so we’re clear.” Elle makes a pouty face, but Peter just shakes his head and continues. “So why is you shocking me so funny?”
“Don’t you get it, Peter? You fixed me. Look!” She holds out her palm and creates the familiar orb of energy, only this time, there’s no look of concentration on her face. She’s playfully manipulating the ball, stronger, brighter, weaker, dimmer, quickly and expertly. She turns her bright blue eyes up to Peter’s face. “Guess death wasn’t the answer after all, huh?”
“I’m not sure how you can credit this to me.”
Elle’s given over a lot to Peter in the last few hours, and she’s not sure she wants her heart to follow everything else, but there’s not much she can do about that at this point. “Easy. I thought my only reprieve was death. You gave me hope, safety, courage, even. Three things I didn’t have anymore. Without them, I was on unstable ground, barely making my way. You’ve given them back to me, Peter. Thank you.”
She doesn’t know how long it’ll last, or even if Peter truly is the reason why her power is once again her own to manipulate, but she’ll take what she can get and give credit when she can. Peter’s saved her in some way, and whether it be physical or otherwise, he’s totally her hero because of it.
**
The end!
Comments are love!
Author:
darkmerrick Word Count: 1948
Rating: R
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Elle
Spoilers:its in the Five Years Gone Universe
Disclaimers: sigh. I made them do what I wanted them to, but i definitely don't own them
Summary: Peter and Elle finally reach an understanding with each other. (gosh, I suck at summaries)
A/n: It's DONE!!! I did it! I was so afraid it wouldn't work out, that I couldn't write it, but I think I did okay. I'm pretty sure this is the longest fanfic I've ever written (there will be more to come, though, i'm sure). Hooray for Peter and Elle being my playthings!
(/overeager excitment)
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
Unexpected indeed. Elle herself didn’t even know what action she would choose after hearing the words come out of his mouth. The bomb, him. The man she’s been searching for for months, hoping he could be her salvation. All this time, she’s been carrying this overwhelming hate for Sylar, for destroying her naïve life, destroying her father’s career. And all this time, she’s hated the wrong person. But when Peter tells her it was him, she can see the guilt eating him alive inside, and she realizes that nothing she can do to take out her pain on him would ever compare to what he takes out on himself everyday. Peter Petrelli, the boy full of optimism and an unwavering need to save the world, crushed down into oblivion with the knowledge that instead of saving the world, he’s damned it.
So when she kisses him, she does it with the knowledge that he’s suffered enough, that he needs something to stop the pain. She knows what that feels like; it’s her reason for being here in the first place, but now her reason’s something other, something deeper and more pure than anything she’s ever felt. She’s never loved anyone, not in a way other than familial with Bob, so she can’t be certain of what she feels. But she feels something for this man, something she’s not ready to let go of. So her heart takes control, and she kisses him.
She becomes more playful as the kiss deepens, and when he pulls away, she’s not ready to let him go. The shock is intentional, only slightly difficult to control for her. She looks to Peter’s face, hoping he doesn’t take it the wrong way. But he only pants, and looks at her curiously for several moments, before a wicked grin spreads on his face, almost matching the one she knows is on hers. He lifts her from beside him then, sits her on his lap. They’re face to face, so close together their noses brush if they move. She stares into his deep brown eyes. They’re still red and swollen from the amount of tears he’s shed in the last few hours, but something burns behind them now, penetrating and fiery. She kisses each of his cheeks then, tasting the remnants of salty tears. He breathes, “Elle,” and she stops, looking up at him expectantly.
“I may have come here wanting something you couldn’t give me, Peter Petrelli. But in the course of this day, I’ve found there is something you can give me, and I want it. I want you.” She slides her mouth back onto his and lets all the passion she has flow into him.
**
He’s glad she wants him, because he wants her too. The awareness builds in him quicker and quicker, and once she’s on top of him, it’s all he can do to hold back, take his time. It’s been a long while since he’s felt so passionately about someone; about anything, really. The last time he can remember is Simone, but there’s the past rearing it’s ugly head, and he didn’t want that.
He tries to take his time, but it’s so hard. He runs his hands over her legs straddling him, marvels at the smoothness of her skin, slowly pushing her skirt up above her hips, but once the black panties are in view again (he’s forgotten about them in the hours since his first viewing), his control slips, and he pulls the dress up over her head ferociously. She just smiles, watching him intently with those big blue eyes of hers. For a moment, he stares at her, losing himself in the ocean of those eyes, seeking, searching for shock or hurt, anything that would make him stop doing what he’s about to do. But he only sees trust, hope, joy, and the ever-sneaking suspicion of love in there as well. He’s not sure how he feels about that, but as her nimble fingers slide under his shirt and it’s no longer a matter of feeling, only one of doing.
He tears his shirt off, letting her hands roam his free skin. Goosebumps form as she lightly shocks him occasionally, looking timidly at him each time for acceptance. He likes it, he’ll admit it, and he urges her to continue.
He’s begun a trail of kisses from her mouth on down, and when he reaches a nipple and slowly sucks on it, she lets out a little moan from on top of him. He stops instantly, meeting her eyes. “What’d ya stop for?” she demands, but he only grins, big, strong, lopsided grin like he hasn’t given in years, and he knows it.
He’s still grinning when he goes back to work on her nipple, teasing and sucking all while she writhes underneath him. He knows she’s still caught up in the pleasure of his mouth when she squeals in surprise as his roaming hands find their way to underneath her panties. She bucks the moment he rubs over her, and as he continues, the little shocks she’s been sending out become less controlled and more powerful. He takes them, not minding the pain, knowing that the pleasure she’s deriving from such a small moment is worth it, watching her face. The child’s innocence is gone, the woman’s fearfulness replaced also. All that’s left is pure bliss, and he revels in the fact that he’s making her feel this way.
He pulls his hand away before she climaxes, and she looks at him, surprised and expectant. He takes her by the hips and adjusts the both of them into the right position. He looks deep into her eyes, searching for an answer. “Elle…” he starts.
There’s a sudden iciness to her figure, brief but there, as she says, “It’s okay, just get it over with. I’m used to the initial shock, no pun intended.” He wonders what exactly she means, wonders if that means she’s been forced into this position before. He wants her to know that there’s no forcing involved this time, so he kisses her, softly and gently, then pulls back and looks deep into the stormy ocean of her eyes. She nods, and he slowly works himself into her. She moans a little, and he can’t tell whether its one of pain or pleasure, but she makes no move to stop him so he continues.
He pushes and pulls her up and down on top of him, letting the pleasure wash over him, a feeling he hasn’t felt in such a long time. Her eyes never leave his, and when she starts moving up and down on her own, it’s something he knows he’s never felt before. His whole body shudders as he closes in on release, feels her muscles contracting around him. Sparks fly from her fingers, from her lips as they caress every inch of him, but he doesn’t care. All he feels is her, around him, on top of him, enjoying him.
**
It’s something she’s never felt before, Peter Petrelli is. All her other experiences with sex have been rough, violent, almost forced. But he’s taken such great care to be gentle, waiting for her to consent. She relishes in it, in the care he’s giving, in the feeling he’s giving her.
Her release floods over her as she’s bobbing up and down on top of him, and she’s never felt so good in her life. She lets sparks fly, not caring the damage she could be inflicting on her new puppy. Seconds later, she feels him shuddering underneath of her, reaching his orgasm as well. She pants on top of him, her muscles still contracting and releasing around him as he softens, and she smiles.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers as he brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes, and its then she knows she’s found something she never wants to let go of.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she replies, running her fingers tentatively over his scar. “Is this from the explosion?”
His eyes darken, and she hopes she hasn’t overstepped her boundaries. “We don’t have boundaries, love,” he says, and she frowns, slightly uncomfortable at him reading her thoughts. “Sometimes I can’t help it,” he chuckles, and his face lightens back up. He answers her question. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.”
**
He places his hands on her hips and slowly slides her off of him. When the cold air hits him, meeting the wetness she’s left behind, he shivers. She chuckles then, and lays her head on his shoulder. He entwines his fingers with hers, and they lay there for awhile.
His mind wonders off, reviewing the last few years he’s spent in despair. Then this girl, this beautiful girl swept into his life, and it’s as though those years have magically disappeared. He still feels the regret, the guilt in taking lives, but it’s not threatening to overwhelm his very being anymore; he’s moving past it, moving on and accepting this new life he’s found with her. It’s then that a thought occurs to him. “Elle?”
She nuzzles his shoulder. “Yes, dear Peter?”
“What now?”
She looks up at him again, and he meets her swirling blue eyes, all sorts of hope mixed with fear and curiosity in them. “I’m not leaving, if that’s what you’re asking. I wouldn’t dare after this. You’ve given me something I didn’t think was possible for me anymore.”
It’s just the answer he was looking for, just the one he dared hope for. Hope. Now there was something he thought he’d never have again, and yet there it was, overpowering him. “Good,” he says, “Because that’s exactly the way I feel about you.” He places a soft kiss on her forehead as she snuggles close to him in the oversized chair.
**
Hours later, as she’s still lying in Peter’s arms, it hits her. She giggles. “What?” he bemuses.
“Do you want me to show you or tell you?”
“Whichever.” She hoped he’d say that, wicked grin spreading across her face. She points her index finger at his nose, several inches away, and blue electricity shoots out. “Ouch, Elle! I’m not a toy!”
You could be, she thinks to herself.
“I heard that. And I won’t be, ever, just so we’re clear.” Elle makes a pouty face, but Peter just shakes his head and continues. “So why is you shocking me so funny?”
“Don’t you get it, Peter? You fixed me. Look!” She holds out her palm and creates the familiar orb of energy, only this time, there’s no look of concentration on her face. She’s playfully manipulating the ball, stronger, brighter, weaker, dimmer, quickly and expertly. She turns her bright blue eyes up to Peter’s face. “Guess death wasn’t the answer after all, huh?”
“I’m not sure how you can credit this to me.”
Elle’s given over a lot to Peter in the last few hours, and she’s not sure she wants her heart to follow everything else, but there’s not much she can do about that at this point. “Easy. I thought my only reprieve was death. You gave me hope, safety, courage, even. Three things I didn’t have anymore. Without them, I was on unstable ground, barely making my way. You’ve given them back to me, Peter. Thank you.”
She doesn’t know how long it’ll last, or even if Peter truly is the reason why her power is once again her own to manipulate, but she’ll take what she can get and give credit when she can. Peter’s saved her in some way, and whether it be physical or otherwise, he’s totally her hero because of it.
**
The end!
Comments are love!
no subject
no subject
no subject
I'm glad you liked it!
And I hope I do too. ;)
no subject
no subject
no subject