[Fandom] Heroes Fic - 10 Things Peter Hates About Elle
Title: 10 Things Peter Hates About Elle
Author: celestineangel
Rating: R, even though I really don’t think it deserves it, but just in case. For language and kinky innuendo.
Word Count: 874
Pairing: Peter/Elle
Warnings: Some violence, crazy, sexiness.
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. They belong to Tim Kring and NBC.
Author’s Notes: This is for thekatebeyond, who requested Peter/Elle fic after Elle finally captures Peter, a sexy battle of wills. I hope it’s sexy enough. XD Also, how come “Five Years Gone” Peter had a scar, presumably from blowing up, and current Peter does not?
Notice: Whoever you are, whatever site you want to repost this on, you do NOT have permission to do so without asking me first. If I find out you have, I WILL take action.
The problem with remembering was he remembered all the things he hated about her.
The zaps were easy. They hurt like hell and let him know without doubt this girl was ruthlessly sadistic.
He heard the creak of an opening door, but refused to look, even when her heels clicked closer across the floor.
It had taken him a little longer to realize just how much he hated, seriously hated, her voice. That high-pitched, innocent little girl voice. How could she sound so innocent when he knew for a fact she was bugshit crazy?
Not to mention her smile. Big, bright, completely out of place on the face of someone who would as soon fry you as give you the time.
The way she clung to him when she barely knew him. Did she treat everyone that way, or just him? Something told him everyone had a shot, but for some reason she loved annoying him best. She did it because she knew it annoyed him, of course. Elle simply was not the type of girl to do anything for any other reason.
“You were a very bad boy,” she said as she crawled onto the bed. Her lips, admittedly attractive, pouted as she straddled his stomach and leaned down over him. “Bad Peter ran away, and now Daddy said I can do whatever I want with him.”
“I doubt that. We’re not even at the Company building.”
She grinned, passed her fingers over his lips and shocked him. “Well, maybe he didn’t say that, exactly, but it was pretty close.” She grinned, laughter falling from her mouth like acid rain. “Anyway, our plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow. Whatever are we going to do until then?” The bugshit crazy blonde shocked him again, this time with her mouth on his, and squealed like a girl on a roller coaster when he bucked to try to dislodge her. The handcuffs keeping his wrists occupied didn’t help, but damn if he’d let her treat him like a toy.
“Get off me.”
“I don’t wanna,” she whined, her hands slipping over his chest, as bare as it had been when he finally escaped the last time. Electric fire snapped over his flesh, arching his back without his consent, and Peter gritted his teeth to keep from screaming. Before she’d only given him short, low wattage jolts, he’d never felt anything like this.
“Get OFF ME!” She hadn’t given him the drugs. Thinking of the blonde woman in New York with the parking meter, Peter jerked against the handcuffs and heard the distinct snap of metal as the chain broke. One of his hands against her shoulder sent her flying back against the nearest wall with a shriek.
Elle got up, whimpering, looking at him like he’d betrayed some sort of trust. He hated her eyes in that moment, how they were the eyes of a little girl treated like garbage.
It lasted only a moment. Giving a pained cry, betrayed by the rage taking over her gaze, Elle lifted a hand to blast him. Peter thought of Ricky, of Caitlin lost somewhere in the future. Elle cried again when he blasted her back with her own power.
“Don’t look so shocked, Elle. You know what I can do.”
“I hate you! I hate you, I hate you!” She rushed him, pushed him back so he stumbled back on the bed. He barely had time to recover before her hand cracked on his cheek. “You tricked me! You kissed me and used me to get away, and I hate you!”
“That’s perfectly fine with me, because I hate you, too.”
The tears that fell over her cheeks, he hated those too, hated how they made him feel. His stomach lurched almost as badly as it had when he realized he’d returned to the present without Caitlin. An admitted sociopath, yet she still managed to make him feel like the man who accidentally called his girlfriend fat when she asked about her new dress. Maybe that wasn’t the best analogy.
Elle moved to slap him again. This time Peter caught her wrist. The skin was soft, and he hated that. The stink of burning meat spread from where he held her as blue lightening arced over their joined flesh. They glared into each other’s eyes over the glow of electricity, each refusing to make a sound or break contact. Peter’s skin healed seconds after being scorched only to burn again, but he hated to let her see how much she hurt him.
At last Elle relented, as least as far as releasing her lightening. Peter let go of her wrist, and for a long moment they just kept staring at each other. Her bottom lip trembled; if she held back tears, he couldn’t tell if they were real or forced. He could never tell when she meant something, even with the ability to read her mind, and that chafed him beyond all reason. He hated not knowing the truth about someone.
Above all, though, he hated the way he couldn’t ignore her.
“I still hate you,” he said, but reached for her hand. She took it, her pout turning slowly into a smile.
“I still hate you, too.”
End.
Author: celestineangel
Rating: R, even though I really don’t think it deserves it, but just in case. For language and kinky innuendo.
Word Count: 874
Pairing: Peter/Elle
Warnings: Some violence, crazy, sexiness.
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. They belong to Tim Kring and NBC.
Author’s Notes: This is for thekatebeyond, who requested Peter/Elle fic after Elle finally captures Peter, a sexy battle of wills. I hope it’s sexy enough. XD Also, how come “Five Years Gone” Peter had a scar, presumably from blowing up, and current Peter does not?
Notice: Whoever you are, whatever site you want to repost this on, you do NOT have permission to do so without asking me first. If I find out you have, I WILL take action.
The problem with remembering was he remembered all the things he hated about her.
The zaps were easy. They hurt like hell and let him know without doubt this girl was ruthlessly sadistic.
He heard the creak of an opening door, but refused to look, even when her heels clicked closer across the floor.
It had taken him a little longer to realize just how much he hated, seriously hated, her voice. That high-pitched, innocent little girl voice. How could she sound so innocent when he knew for a fact she was bugshit crazy?
Not to mention her smile. Big, bright, completely out of place on the face of someone who would as soon fry you as give you the time.
The way she clung to him when she barely knew him. Did she treat everyone that way, or just him? Something told him everyone had a shot, but for some reason she loved annoying him best. She did it because she knew it annoyed him, of course. Elle simply was not the type of girl to do anything for any other reason.
“You were a very bad boy,” she said as she crawled onto the bed. Her lips, admittedly attractive, pouted as she straddled his stomach and leaned down over him. “Bad Peter ran away, and now Daddy said I can do whatever I want with him.”
“I doubt that. We’re not even at the Company building.”
She grinned, passed her fingers over his lips and shocked him. “Well, maybe he didn’t say that, exactly, but it was pretty close.” She grinned, laughter falling from her mouth like acid rain. “Anyway, our plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow. Whatever are we going to do until then?” The bugshit crazy blonde shocked him again, this time with her mouth on his, and squealed like a girl on a roller coaster when he bucked to try to dislodge her. The handcuffs keeping his wrists occupied didn’t help, but damn if he’d let her treat him like a toy.
“Get off me.”
“I don’t wanna,” she whined, her hands slipping over his chest, as bare as it had been when he finally escaped the last time. Electric fire snapped over his flesh, arching his back without his consent, and Peter gritted his teeth to keep from screaming. Before she’d only given him short, low wattage jolts, he’d never felt anything like this.
“Get OFF ME!” She hadn’t given him the drugs. Thinking of the blonde woman in New York with the parking meter, Peter jerked against the handcuffs and heard the distinct snap of metal as the chain broke. One of his hands against her shoulder sent her flying back against the nearest wall with a shriek.
Elle got up, whimpering, looking at him like he’d betrayed some sort of trust. He hated her eyes in that moment, how they were the eyes of a little girl treated like garbage.
It lasted only a moment. Giving a pained cry, betrayed by the rage taking over her gaze, Elle lifted a hand to blast him. Peter thought of Ricky, of Caitlin lost somewhere in the future. Elle cried again when he blasted her back with her own power.
“Don’t look so shocked, Elle. You know what I can do.”
“I hate you! I hate you, I hate you!” She rushed him, pushed him back so he stumbled back on the bed. He barely had time to recover before her hand cracked on his cheek. “You tricked me! You kissed me and used me to get away, and I hate you!”
“That’s perfectly fine with me, because I hate you, too.”
The tears that fell over her cheeks, he hated those too, hated how they made him feel. His stomach lurched almost as badly as it had when he realized he’d returned to the present without Caitlin. An admitted sociopath, yet she still managed to make him feel like the man who accidentally called his girlfriend fat when she asked about her new dress. Maybe that wasn’t the best analogy.
Elle moved to slap him again. This time Peter caught her wrist. The skin was soft, and he hated that. The stink of burning meat spread from where he held her as blue lightening arced over their joined flesh. They glared into each other’s eyes over the glow of electricity, each refusing to make a sound or break contact. Peter’s skin healed seconds after being scorched only to burn again, but he hated to let her see how much she hurt him.
At last Elle relented, as least as far as releasing her lightening. Peter let go of her wrist, and for a long moment they just kept staring at each other. Her bottom lip trembled; if she held back tears, he couldn’t tell if they were real or forced. He could never tell when she meant something, even with the ability to read her mind, and that chafed him beyond all reason. He hated not knowing the truth about someone.
Above all, though, he hated the way he couldn’t ignore her.
“I still hate you,” he said, but reached for her hand. She took it, her pout turning slowly into a smile.
“I still hate you, too.”
End.