alwaysenduphere (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alwaysenduphere) wrote2008-03-04 01:35 am
alwaysenduphere) wrote2008-03-04 01:35 am
Fic: Silk
Title: Silk
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
darkmerrick
Word Count: 1585
Rating: R
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Elle
Spoilers: we'll say season 2 to be safe.
Summary: After failing to capture Sylar, Elle's stuck in the Company all over again until someone comes looking for her.
A/n: Wrote while watching SPN, so there's probably mistakes.
She slides the heavy door back and steps out carefully, her fingertips drawing a line on the steamy door. She wraps a black cotton towel around herself, flips a smaller one around her hair in that way that only women seem to be able to manage.
There was something rejuvenating about a hot shower, and Elle found herself needing plenty of rejuvenating anymore, months after her last failure of losing Sylar. She’d thought Bob would be proud of her for tracking him down, but as usual, nothing was ever good enough for Daddy. He’d taken away her field agent status, reprimanding her for going in without backup and allowing Sylar to regain his powers and escape.
She had plenty of free time now to bask in steamy showers and slide around in silk sheets. Which is what she spent the majority of her time doing, turning herself into a prune hours at a time and then crashing on her queen-sized bed with its red silk sheets in her tiny white-walled room. She was trapped, trapped in the monotonous cycle which was her only relief from the prison of her life.
This day was no different, as she walked from her tiny bathroom to her tiny bedroom and threw herself down on the bed, her wet hair fanning behind her. She’d had about enough of this loneliness, this isolation from the outside world. She’d lived it for over two decades, and her brief stint outside her four walls had shown her many things. She knew she couldn’t trust Bob anymore, for sure. But she bided her time inside here. He still had control over her; she didn’t know how to make it on her own. So she spent her days seemingly trapped.
She loved the feeling of the sheets on her naked body. It was one of things she’d begged Bob for, told him she’d stop fighting the guards and accept her imprisonment, as long as he allowed her the pleasures of a decadent life. Silk sheets, porcelain tub and glass-doored shower, check. The sheets were her favorite, though. The feeling of the material on freshly-shaved legs gave her the feeling of freedom, of running through the wind without a care in the world. A girl she’d never be.
That thought slipped into her head nearly every day, and it always followed with tears. This day was no different. She rolled over to her side, curled up into a ball, and continued her daily routine: Shave, Shower, Cry, Sleep, Repeat. She lived a life without expectations, full of never-changing routines. So when the door of her tiny room opened, she thought it was just a figment of her imagination at first.
“Elle,” a voice said, and she recognized the voice. It wasn’t one she was ready to hear again, and she wondered why her subconscious would conjure it. She slowly rolled over and found Peter standing in the doorway, his hand out, powers ready to unleash.
She rolled her eyes at him, and did her best to suppress her tears, steel herself for whatever he wanted. “What, Peter? Didn’t hurt my feelings enough the first time, using me and losing me? You have no idea how much I wish that blast I gave you would’ve killed you. You getting away was the beginning to all this.” She rolled back over away from him, hoping the mirage would go away.
“Do you know who killed Nathan?” he growled, “And don’t lie to me. People that lie to me don’t end up on my good side. Ask your father.”
Her hands sparked in anger. “Did you kill my father? Is that how you got in? The Peter I met several months ago would never kill an innocent.”
“Your father wasn’t innocent. My brother’s dead. People change, Elle. Your father may have had his hand in many things, but he didn’t pull the trigger. When I find out who did, let’s just say there’ll be no place to hide.”
More tears flowed from Elle’s eyes. Maybe for her father, maybe for the loss of innocence her former puppy has suffered. Puppies don’t kill people, she concedes to herself. She spits out, “I don’t know anything, Peter. I haven’t left this room since Sylar got away in New York. But you probably don’t know anything about that, do you? How he’s still alive, around with his powers all over again.” She rolled over, hoping to see Peter flinch from the news. But he just glared at her.
“Nathan comes first. Sylar’s not my problem.”
“He will be when he gets back to Claire.” He flinched. She was out of practice with her digs, but she still had it in her. Once a sociopath, always a sociopath.
“Like I said, Elle. People change. Even you.”
Peter’s words took her by surprise, and she looked up at him with her tear-filled eyes. “What?”
“You don’t have to stay here. Come with me, help me track down his killer. Your knowledge of the Company could help me. And then, once we do that, maybe we could stop Sylar for good.”
Elle cracked a small smile. The Peter she’d known was still in there, hoping to save the world. But the things he’d said…she laughed bitterly. “Peter, I barely know anything about this Company other than these four walls and a select few hallways. You think Bob would let me have any fun, know anything? I was his perfect little agent under control. Giving me access to outside information was creating a bomb waiting to get out and explode.” The tears were flowing again. “My father hated me. I’m glad he’s gone,” she sobbed.
Peter moved closer to her bed, and she became aware that she was still naked on the silk sheets. She wrapped the sheets closer around her. “Your father’s not around to tell you what to do, keep you here. Come with me, Elle.”
“Why, Peter? You come barging here, accusing me, and then flip-flop and want me to come with you? Why am I having trouble believing you’re doing it out of the goodness of your heart?”
Peter sighed, and one of his hands brushed the bed. “Maybe I don’t want to be alone in this anymore. Maybe I don’t know who to trust, and I’m not sure if I should trust you or not. But you can’t kill me, you can’t really hurt me. So if you turn on me…” He shook his head. “Nathan’s gone. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” His arm brushed her form, wrapped in the red sheets.
She blinked at him, her eyes widening as his hand moved along her contours. “Peter…” His hand brushed her face, and she involuntarily leaned into his palm. He took that as his sign, bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips.
She stilled, didn’t do anything at first, but he didn’t give up, kissing her lips, her nose, her cheeks, moving down to her ears. She shivered. Then she kissed back, and he took it as his signal.
“You don’t want to be alone either, do you?”
“No, Peter. I don’t. But you knew that already, or we wouldn’t even be in this position. Now, shut up and kiss me already.”
Peter kissed her fiercely then, powerful emotions behind his lips. He began pushing the sheets off her curves, her alabaster skin in contrast with the crimson of the sheets. She gasped a little at the cold, a thought he immediately caught. He moved onto the bed with her, and took her gently into his arms. “We don’t have to be alone again, neither one of us.”
Elle brought a thin hand to his face and held it there. She looked him square in the eyes, and for a moment, she thought she’d get lost in the storm of emotions behind them. “Promise?” she whispered.
“Promise.”
She wrapped her hand around his neck and pressed a hard kiss to his lips. His answer was all the hope she needed, the only cue necessary to free her from her suppressed state. She wrapped a leg around him and pulled him as close as she possibly could.
He was wearing too many clothes.
As if hearing the thought, Peter tore at his shirt, and she helped him out of his pants. Before long, they were both rolling around in her sheets, and it was hard to tell where one body ended and the next started. Her legs were wrapped around him, his neck buried in her skin. They moaned together and moved together, two lonely souls meshing into one.
Elle never knew she could love the feeling of her back brushing against the sheets so much until the moment Peter pinned her down and thrust inside her. She screamed, but it wasn’t for the pain of losing her virginity; it was for the overload of sheer pleasure coursing through every inch of her sensitive skin. It wasn’t long before she was spasming against Peter, screaming his name over and over.
Peter fell beside her moments later, panting. He untangled the sheet from underneath the both of them and threw it haphazardly over the bed.
“So this is what it feels like to not be alone, huh?” she said
As a response, Peter kissed her.
She wrapped her fingers in his as he ran a hand through her hair, still wet from the shower. She pulled the fabric around her and snuggled close to Peter. “I like it.”
Author:
darkmerrickWord Count: 1585
Rating: R
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Elle
Spoilers: we'll say season 2 to be safe.
Summary: After failing to capture Sylar, Elle's stuck in the Company all over again until someone comes looking for her.
A/n: Wrote while watching SPN, so there's probably mistakes.
She slides the heavy door back and steps out carefully, her fingertips drawing a line on the steamy door. She wraps a black cotton towel around herself, flips a smaller one around her hair in that way that only women seem to be able to manage.
There was something rejuvenating about a hot shower, and Elle found herself needing plenty of rejuvenating anymore, months after her last failure of losing Sylar. She’d thought Bob would be proud of her for tracking him down, but as usual, nothing was ever good enough for Daddy. He’d taken away her field agent status, reprimanding her for going in without backup and allowing Sylar to regain his powers and escape.
She had plenty of free time now to bask in steamy showers and slide around in silk sheets. Which is what she spent the majority of her time doing, turning herself into a prune hours at a time and then crashing on her queen-sized bed with its red silk sheets in her tiny white-walled room. She was trapped, trapped in the monotonous cycle which was her only relief from the prison of her life.
This day was no different, as she walked from her tiny bathroom to her tiny bedroom and threw herself down on the bed, her wet hair fanning behind her. She’d had about enough of this loneliness, this isolation from the outside world. She’d lived it for over two decades, and her brief stint outside her four walls had shown her many things. She knew she couldn’t trust Bob anymore, for sure. But she bided her time inside here. He still had control over her; she didn’t know how to make it on her own. So she spent her days seemingly trapped.
She loved the feeling of the sheets on her naked body. It was one of things she’d begged Bob for, told him she’d stop fighting the guards and accept her imprisonment, as long as he allowed her the pleasures of a decadent life. Silk sheets, porcelain tub and glass-doored shower, check. The sheets were her favorite, though. The feeling of the material on freshly-shaved legs gave her the feeling of freedom, of running through the wind without a care in the world. A girl she’d never be.
That thought slipped into her head nearly every day, and it always followed with tears. This day was no different. She rolled over to her side, curled up into a ball, and continued her daily routine: Shave, Shower, Cry, Sleep, Repeat. She lived a life without expectations, full of never-changing routines. So when the door of her tiny room opened, she thought it was just a figment of her imagination at first.
“Elle,” a voice said, and she recognized the voice. It wasn’t one she was ready to hear again, and she wondered why her subconscious would conjure it. She slowly rolled over and found Peter standing in the doorway, his hand out, powers ready to unleash.
She rolled her eyes at him, and did her best to suppress her tears, steel herself for whatever he wanted. “What, Peter? Didn’t hurt my feelings enough the first time, using me and losing me? You have no idea how much I wish that blast I gave you would’ve killed you. You getting away was the beginning to all this.” She rolled back over away from him, hoping the mirage would go away.
“Do you know who killed Nathan?” he growled, “And don’t lie to me. People that lie to me don’t end up on my good side. Ask your father.”
Her hands sparked in anger. “Did you kill my father? Is that how you got in? The Peter I met several months ago would never kill an innocent.”
“Your father wasn’t innocent. My brother’s dead. People change, Elle. Your father may have had his hand in many things, but he didn’t pull the trigger. When I find out who did, let’s just say there’ll be no place to hide.”
More tears flowed from Elle’s eyes. Maybe for her father, maybe for the loss of innocence her former puppy has suffered. Puppies don’t kill people, she concedes to herself. She spits out, “I don’t know anything, Peter. I haven’t left this room since Sylar got away in New York. But you probably don’t know anything about that, do you? How he’s still alive, around with his powers all over again.” She rolled over, hoping to see Peter flinch from the news. But he just glared at her.
“Nathan comes first. Sylar’s not my problem.”
“He will be when he gets back to Claire.” He flinched. She was out of practice with her digs, but she still had it in her. Once a sociopath, always a sociopath.
“Like I said, Elle. People change. Even you.”
Peter’s words took her by surprise, and she looked up at him with her tear-filled eyes. “What?”
“You don’t have to stay here. Come with me, help me track down his killer. Your knowledge of the Company could help me. And then, once we do that, maybe we could stop Sylar for good.”
Elle cracked a small smile. The Peter she’d known was still in there, hoping to save the world. But the things he’d said…she laughed bitterly. “Peter, I barely know anything about this Company other than these four walls and a select few hallways. You think Bob would let me have any fun, know anything? I was his perfect little agent under control. Giving me access to outside information was creating a bomb waiting to get out and explode.” The tears were flowing again. “My father hated me. I’m glad he’s gone,” she sobbed.
Peter moved closer to her bed, and she became aware that she was still naked on the silk sheets. She wrapped the sheets closer around her. “Your father’s not around to tell you what to do, keep you here. Come with me, Elle.”
“Why, Peter? You come barging here, accusing me, and then flip-flop and want me to come with you? Why am I having trouble believing you’re doing it out of the goodness of your heart?”
Peter sighed, and one of his hands brushed the bed. “Maybe I don’t want to be alone in this anymore. Maybe I don’t know who to trust, and I’m not sure if I should trust you or not. But you can’t kill me, you can’t really hurt me. So if you turn on me…” He shook his head. “Nathan’s gone. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” His arm brushed her form, wrapped in the red sheets.
She blinked at him, her eyes widening as his hand moved along her contours. “Peter…” His hand brushed her face, and she involuntarily leaned into his palm. He took that as his sign, bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips.
She stilled, didn’t do anything at first, but he didn’t give up, kissing her lips, her nose, her cheeks, moving down to her ears. She shivered. Then she kissed back, and he took it as his signal.
“You don’t want to be alone either, do you?”
“No, Peter. I don’t. But you knew that already, or we wouldn’t even be in this position. Now, shut up and kiss me already.”
Peter kissed her fiercely then, powerful emotions behind his lips. He began pushing the sheets off her curves, her alabaster skin in contrast with the crimson of the sheets. She gasped a little at the cold, a thought he immediately caught. He moved onto the bed with her, and took her gently into his arms. “We don’t have to be alone again, neither one of us.”
Elle brought a thin hand to his face and held it there. She looked him square in the eyes, and for a moment, she thought she’d get lost in the storm of emotions behind them. “Promise?” she whispered.
“Promise.”
She wrapped her hand around his neck and pressed a hard kiss to his lips. His answer was all the hope she needed, the only cue necessary to free her from her suppressed state. She wrapped a leg around him and pulled him as close as she possibly could.
He was wearing too many clothes.
As if hearing the thought, Peter tore at his shirt, and she helped him out of his pants. Before long, they were both rolling around in her sheets, and it was hard to tell where one body ended and the next started. Her legs were wrapped around him, his neck buried in her skin. They moaned together and moved together, two lonely souls meshing into one.
Elle never knew she could love the feeling of her back brushing against the sheets so much until the moment Peter pinned her down and thrust inside her. She screamed, but it wasn’t for the pain of losing her virginity; it was for the overload of sheer pleasure coursing through every inch of her sensitive skin. It wasn’t long before she was spasming against Peter, screaming his name over and over.
Peter fell beside her moments later, panting. He untangled the sheet from underneath the both of them and threw it haphazardly over the bed.
“So this is what it feels like to not be alone, huh?” she said
As a response, Peter kissed her.
She wrapped her fingers in his as he ran a hand through her hair, still wet from the shower. She pulled the fabric around her and snuggled close to Peter. “I like it.”
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Thanks you!
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Elle and Peter are my tragic lovers. :)
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Very nice!
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Thanks for readin!
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You are welcome!
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BSG needs to come back NAO!