So here it is, I know it took what seemed like forever, so I apoligise for that.

Chlark fic for my dear friend babydee1

She asked for a married Chlark trying to get it on whilst being constantly interrupted by a cranky teething baby in the next room. But, because this is what she ended up writing for me, I had to amend this ficlet slightly.

( Go to Sleep, and Goodnight. )

Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Chloe/Clark. Implied Clois.
Category: Romance/Angst.
Obviously, this is fictional.

What about now, what about today. What if you're making me, all that I was meant to be. What if our love, never went away. What if it's lost behind, words we could never find. Baby before it's too late, what about now. - Daughtry.
( What about now? )

Clark’s free hand skims the scratchy fabric of her sweats. Soft, even strokes like a man of measure. His thick, fleshy fingers twitch as they rest upon the elastic waistband of Chloe’s pants. An opportunity in the midst of a crisis, he’s well aware of the dangers, but his mouth is dry, and he’s overly parched, and he just wants to wet his lips with ( Read more... )

He’s fifty today. He’s fifty and he still fucks her like he did when he was forty.

He’s wearing that ridiculous fucking tie that she brought him on a whim, thinking that the blue would completely upstage his eyes.

What was she thinking?

He’s still got no dress sense, but his ass looks good in those black pants. His wife probably put the ( Read more... )

Clark Kent couldn’t save his father. His tombstone sits cold in the Smallville Cemetery, marking his final resting place, from the cradle to the grave where he lies. There had been no hope; Clark had been committed to action, actually doing something rather than being trapped by a series of events.

The nip of frigid granite is harsh, but Clark ( Read more... )

 
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He lifts her fringe from her face again, his body lumbers as he thrusts forward and she grits her teeth and throws her head back against the couch. The position is impossibly uncomfortable, but the pleasure seems to override the ache in her spine. She locks her legs around the back of his thighs and pulls him deeper, so deep that he’s pushing ( Read more... )

He thinks that if he concentrates his mind carefully, he can still recall the way that his brow had creased and he’d rubbed profusely at the back of his neck on that fateful day so long ago.  His first wife had been standing in the doorway with one hand balanced precariously on her hip and a glossy tabloid magazine clutched tightly in the other.

( Read more... )

Rating: M.
Characters/Pairings: Chris/Mariska. (RPF)
Category: Angst/Romance.
Obviously, this is fictional.
Written for this prompt. And this picture.
( Read more... )