Whispers- Smallville fanfic
Title: Whispers
Rating: NC-17; bordering on whatever might be above that.
Pairings: Chlark/Kaloe
Spoilers: Crimson
Disclaimer: If I owned Smallville, Clark and Chloe would have gotten together a freaking long time ago. So, yeah, whatever.
Summary: While spending another night alone, Chloe finds herself thinking of something she shouldn't even be thinking of.
Warnings: READ: This is for mature audiences only. To be blunt, it's smutty, people. If you are in any way offended with the subject of masturbation, then don't read this one. Simple as that. Other than that, there's a bit of strong language. You have been warned.
Note(s): This is probably my most explicit to date... kinda took guts to write. So, please, please be gentle with me, as I'm not completely sure what I'm doing here. Some slight angst in this one.
Sleep.
As much as she longed for it, it wouldn't come.
Chloe had had many sleepless nights since the events of Valentine's Day, and since Jimmy had broken up with her.
But tonight... tonight was different. It was different because she was longing for more than just sleep.
There seemed to be some deep gaping hole inside of her that felt so empty, so hollow, so neglected. She couldn't figure out what caused such an emptiness, but for some reason, whenever she thought about it too much, Clark's face came to mind.
Clark's face came to mind just then, as she lay tossing and turning on the couch in the Talon's apartment.
More significantly, his words and actions on Valentine's Day seemed to come flooding back to her.
Clark hadn't been himself that night. He'd been high on Red Kryptonite, the only "drug" that had ever had an effect on him.
And as much as she hadn't wanted him to, he had effected her.
Sure, he'd been taunting her, teasing her, trying to embarrass her, but she couldn't deny the reaction she'd had when he'd bent down and whispered into her ear.
"It's not like I haven't thought about it."
His words, combined with the low, deep, rawly sexual tone he'd said them in, had set her nerve endings on fire. She'd nearly shivered, and a small burst of heated moisture had automatically pooled in her panties. She hadn't quite realized that he still had that effect on her, and tried to ignore it. She somehow knew that he'd notice in some way, due to the smirk that had covered his lips as he stood.
Thinking about it now actually did send a shiver up her spine, and that same fire began to burn between her thighs.
She tried desperately to ignore it, as she had on other nights, but found that she couldn't. The need was too great.
As she threw the blankets off herself, and shifted onto her back, she felt thankful that Lois had left for the night.
She managed to slip out of the little nightgown she wore within just a few moments, and soon, her panties were landing on the floor on top of it.
She closed her eyes, beginning to imagine that he was there with her, clad in those skin-tight black jeans, that black shirt, and the black leather jacket he'd been wearing that night.
As she ran one hand down over her body, the picture of him in her mind was as perfect and as clear as could be.
In the movie in her head, he was smirking at her as he stood before her. The outline of his rock-hard cock was painfully visible in the all-too-tight jeans, and she ached to touch it. He stripped off his jacket, giving her a look at his beautifully muscled arms, then reached to pull off his t-shirt.
Chloe moaned aloud, her fingers slowly creeping down over her stomach as she raised her knees.
Her fingers ached to touch his well-defined body as she looked over it. She licked her lips, both consciously and sub-consciously, and felt another rush of moisture exit her body, slipping over her thighs.
She imagined herself running her fingers over the flat, darkened discs of his nipples, and heard a low male groan in response. Her fingers were soon replaced by her tongue, and one small hand moved over the swell in his jeans. His solid length stood upright against his body, and she could feel the tip peeking out of his jeans, pressing against his flat stomach.
She let out another soft moan as her fingers played over her wet slit.
In her mind, she was helping to rid him of his jeans, her hands slipping over his tightly muscled ass as she worked them down and off his body.
Then she was taking him into her hand, and he was groaning at her again. Her thumb ran over the broadened head, raking over the small bit of moisture at the very tip. Her hand worked over him slowly, and she tentatively lowered her head, swiping her tongue over him.
A stream of obscenities left his mouth, and his hips began to thrust towards her face.
"Damn it, Chloe... I want you."
The low growl made her moan again, and she knew it was time to stop teasing herself. She was soaked, her desire having dripped down the length of her thighs.
The moment two of her fingers slid into her waiting heat, she imagined that it was Clark's massive cock instead, stretching her, filling her.
She cried out softly, and in her mind, it was his hand that began playing with one of her hardened little nipples, not her own.
He was moaning, groaning, growling, and whispering all kinds of things into her ear as she began to be worked into a frenzy. He told her how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her, and how much he'd always wanted her. He told her how incredible she felt, how her little body gripped him perfectly, how much he'd been needing her.
She cried out again, her head falling back.
Her fingers slipped out of her aching core, and dragged upward, lightly touching the little bundle of nerves they found.
She cried out yet again, her thighs trembling a little bit, and imagined feeling his body beginning to spasm within hers.
She dipped her fingers back into her wetness again, if only for a moment, and then brought them back to press over the sensitive little spot again.
"Oh, God, Chloe... I love you."
The soft, shaky whisper filled her ears, her head, her body, and she cried his name out into the darkness, her thighs trembling, her inner muscles tensing and jerking. She whimpered, his name falling from her lips again.
As her body began to calm, her mind unclouding, she realized that she felt better, but a new emptiness was beginning to fill her.
Clark wasn't here, and she was sure he'd never actually say those three little words. She was sure he'd never make love to her.
As much as she longed for it, there was a chance it wouldn't come.
Clark was in the process of dozing off when the sound of Chloe's voice activated his superhearing.
"Clark...."
The soft, high-pitched cry made him shoot up in the bed, his bluish-green eyes widening.
He heard his name slip out again in the form of a tiny whimper, and he just sit there, unable to move.
He felt a tightening in his pajama bottoms, but tried to ignore it as he laid back again. He tried to ignore the soft burn of desire deep within him, as he had on so many other nights since they'd kissed, and tried to fall back to sleep.
But as much as he longed for it, it just wouldn't come.
Rating: NC-17; bordering on whatever might be above that.
Pairings: Chlark/Kaloe
Spoilers: Crimson
Disclaimer: If I owned Smallville, Clark and Chloe would have gotten together a freaking long time ago. So, yeah, whatever.
Summary: While spending another night alone, Chloe finds herself thinking of something she shouldn't even be thinking of.
Warnings: READ: This is for mature audiences only. To be blunt, it's smutty, people. If you are in any way offended with the subject of masturbation, then don't read this one. Simple as that. Other than that, there's a bit of strong language. You have been warned.
Note(s): This is probably my most explicit to date... kinda took guts to write. So, please, please be gentle with me, as I'm not completely sure what I'm doing here. Some slight angst in this one.
Sleep.
As much as she longed for it, it wouldn't come.
Chloe had had many sleepless nights since the events of Valentine's Day, and since Jimmy had broken up with her.
But tonight... tonight was different. It was different because she was longing for more than just sleep.
There seemed to be some deep gaping hole inside of her that felt so empty, so hollow, so neglected. She couldn't figure out what caused such an emptiness, but for some reason, whenever she thought about it too much, Clark's face came to mind.
Clark's face came to mind just then, as she lay tossing and turning on the couch in the Talon's apartment.
More significantly, his words and actions on Valentine's Day seemed to come flooding back to her.
Clark hadn't been himself that night. He'd been high on Red Kryptonite, the only "drug" that had ever had an effect on him.
And as much as she hadn't wanted him to, he had effected her.
Sure, he'd been taunting her, teasing her, trying to embarrass her, but she couldn't deny the reaction she'd had when he'd bent down and whispered into her ear.
"It's not like I haven't thought about it."
His words, combined with the low, deep, rawly sexual tone he'd said them in, had set her nerve endings on fire. She'd nearly shivered, and a small burst of heated moisture had automatically pooled in her panties. She hadn't quite realized that he still had that effect on her, and tried to ignore it. She somehow knew that he'd notice in some way, due to the smirk that had covered his lips as he stood.
Thinking about it now actually did send a shiver up her spine, and that same fire began to burn between her thighs.
She tried desperately to ignore it, as she had on other nights, but found that she couldn't. The need was too great.
As she threw the blankets off herself, and shifted onto her back, she felt thankful that Lois had left for the night.
She managed to slip out of the little nightgown she wore within just a few moments, and soon, her panties were landing on the floor on top of it.
She closed her eyes, beginning to imagine that he was there with her, clad in those skin-tight black jeans, that black shirt, and the black leather jacket he'd been wearing that night.
As she ran one hand down over her body, the picture of him in her mind was as perfect and as clear as could be.
In the movie in her head, he was smirking at her as he stood before her. The outline of his rock-hard cock was painfully visible in the all-too-tight jeans, and she ached to touch it. He stripped off his jacket, giving her a look at his beautifully muscled arms, then reached to pull off his t-shirt.
Chloe moaned aloud, her fingers slowly creeping down over her stomach as she raised her knees.
Her fingers ached to touch his well-defined body as she looked over it. She licked her lips, both consciously and sub-consciously, and felt another rush of moisture exit her body, slipping over her thighs.
She imagined herself running her fingers over the flat, darkened discs of his nipples, and heard a low male groan in response. Her fingers were soon replaced by her tongue, and one small hand moved over the swell in his jeans. His solid length stood upright against his body, and she could feel the tip peeking out of his jeans, pressing against his flat stomach.
She let out another soft moan as her fingers played over her wet slit.
In her mind, she was helping to rid him of his jeans, her hands slipping over his tightly muscled ass as she worked them down and off his body.
Then she was taking him into her hand, and he was groaning at her again. Her thumb ran over the broadened head, raking over the small bit of moisture at the very tip. Her hand worked over him slowly, and she tentatively lowered her head, swiping her tongue over him.
A stream of obscenities left his mouth, and his hips began to thrust towards her face.
"Damn it, Chloe... I want you."
The low growl made her moan again, and she knew it was time to stop teasing herself. She was soaked, her desire having dripped down the length of her thighs.
The moment two of her fingers slid into her waiting heat, she imagined that it was Clark's massive cock instead, stretching her, filling her.
She cried out softly, and in her mind, it was his hand that began playing with one of her hardened little nipples, not her own.
He was moaning, groaning, growling, and whispering all kinds of things into her ear as she began to be worked into a frenzy. He told her how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her, and how much he'd always wanted her. He told her how incredible she felt, how her little body gripped him perfectly, how much he'd been needing her.
She cried out again, her head falling back.
Her fingers slipped out of her aching core, and dragged upward, lightly touching the little bundle of nerves they found.
She cried out yet again, her thighs trembling a little bit, and imagined feeling his body beginning to spasm within hers.
She dipped her fingers back into her wetness again, if only for a moment, and then brought them back to press over the sensitive little spot again.
"Oh, God, Chloe... I love you."
The soft, shaky whisper filled her ears, her head, her body, and she cried his name out into the darkness, her thighs trembling, her inner muscles tensing and jerking. She whimpered, his name falling from her lips again.
As her body began to calm, her mind unclouding, she realized that she felt better, but a new emptiness was beginning to fill her.
Clark wasn't here, and she was sure he'd never actually say those three little words. She was sure he'd never make love to her.
As much as she longed for it, there was a chance it wouldn't come.
Clark was in the process of dozing off when the sound of Chloe's voice activated his superhearing.
"Clark...."
The soft, high-pitched cry made him shoot up in the bed, his bluish-green eyes widening.
He heard his name slip out again in the form of a tiny whimper, and he just sit there, unable to move.
He felt a tightening in his pajama bottoms, but tried to ignore it as he laid back again. He tried to ignore the soft burn of desire deep within him, as he had on so many other nights since they'd kissed, and tried to fall back to sleep.
But as much as he longed for it, it just wouldn't come.