Not So Fast - Chloe/Bart, NC17
Title: Not so Fast
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: NC17
Disclaimer: All things Smallville belong to DC Comics, the WB, et al.
Prompt: 6 - Gentle - Claim: Chloe - at 50_smutlets
Pairing: Chloe/Bart
Summary: There were some things that he never did fast. Worshipping her - because that’s the only word for it - is one of them.
Wordcount: 867
~*~*~
Five years passed before Chloe saw him again. Five years between which Chloe had forgotten what Bart looked like - he’d become relegated to her memories as just some kid that Clark had hung out with, however briefly.
Then Bart saved her. When Clark was in another country, saving lives and being a hero, there was Bart, saving her from impending doom brought on by her own foolhardy recklessness. He remembered her, it seemed, because he ran off and came back with her favorite flower a few moments later, as if the gesture could erase from her mind the fact that she’d been kidnapped - again - and nearly died in a fire - again.
It was a good try, she had to give him that.
So was taking her to dinner the next night. And then the following week and then a couple days later than even that. Until it was assumed - by one and all, including the two of them - that they were a couple.
The world’s fastest man, she’d laughed when he boasted, assumed he was just being a little cocky. But Clark agreed with him and that was that. Her boyfriend was the world’s fastest man. She wondered, somewhat pensively, what that would mean when they finally took that step.
She needn’t have worried.
There were some things that Bart took his time with. Worshipping her - because that was the only word she could think to describe what he did - was one of them.
Chloe’s breath came out as a moan, her entire body arching up with the need to be touched. From between her legs, she heard Bart chuckle, felt the rush of his breath over her that hot wetness, right before his tongue went back to doing that thing that he did so well. Long, slow, torturous - he licked her like he was trying to memorize the way that she tasted; as though he might suddenly wake up one day and never get to do it again and for that reason had to make the most of this time that he had with her here and now.
She wasn’t complaining.
Her hands grasped at the sheets under her palms, balling them up in her fists, her legs straining with the urge to close on Bart’s head, grind against his face. He was smirking and she knew it, didn’t need to lift her head to see the cocky tilt of his lips or the way that his eyes were sparkling with something that was lusty and playful all rolled into one. This - this - he could draw out for an eternity, even though he was quite capable of ending it quickly, too. That he only did when they were in a hurry, when they were stealing a few minutes between work or his extra-curricular activities. Then he could be quick as lightning, with fingers or tongue, bringing her to that peak so quick that it was dizzying.
That was not what he was doing right now.
She shivered and pressed against his hold on her legs again, cursing him under her breath when he wouldn’t let go. He hummed his amusement against her clit and she screamed his name, so close and yet so far. Was it wrong of her to pray for an emergency to come up - something to tear Bart away from that sweet spot between her legs? He’d hurry things up then, because no matter what, he’d never just left her desperate and wanting.
But no emergency reared its ugly head.
He slid one long finger into her and it went in like a hot knife through butter, with ease. Another lick of that wetness, from where his finger was inside of her all the way up and over the tingling bundle of nerves between her legs, making her whimper and moan. She was mumbling his name, unable to form a coherent thought. She leaned up on her elbows, arms trembling, and glared at him as sternly as she could manage when she was practically gasping for breath. “Please,” she managed to whisper.
Another chuckle was her only response. Chloe, flopped back down on the bed, suddenly robbed of her strength when Bart added another finger to her warmth and slowly began to work them in and out. Torture was the only word for it, and she told him that in no uncertain terms, knowing that her moans and breathless cries softened the harsh accusation.
She felt his lips curve into a smirk, knew the moment that he’d had enough and gave in to her pleas.
It took less than a minute under the flicker-tap vibrations of his tongue at high speeds to send her into a screaming fit as she came, hard; shaking and shuddering in his arms.
The smirk was still on his lips when he started a slow crawl up her body, dropping kisses on the skin that he passed along the way. Chloe’s breath hitched when he brushed his lips over first one nipple, then the next, and she was reminded all too clearly that he hadn’t yet finished when his body lay flat against hers.
“Now that you’re a little calmer,” he smirked. “We can really take our time.”
END
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: NC17
Disclaimer: All things Smallville belong to DC Comics, the WB, et al.
Prompt: 6 - Gentle - Claim: Chloe - at 50_smutlets
Pairing: Chloe/Bart
Summary: There were some things that he never did fast. Worshipping her - because that’s the only word for it - is one of them.
Wordcount: 867
~*~*~
Five years passed before Chloe saw him again. Five years between which Chloe had forgotten what Bart looked like - he’d become relegated to her memories as just some kid that Clark had hung out with, however briefly.
Then Bart saved her. When Clark was in another country, saving lives and being a hero, there was Bart, saving her from impending doom brought on by her own foolhardy recklessness. He remembered her, it seemed, because he ran off and came back with her favorite flower a few moments later, as if the gesture could erase from her mind the fact that she’d been kidnapped - again - and nearly died in a fire - again.
It was a good try, she had to give him that.
So was taking her to dinner the next night. And then the following week and then a couple days later than even that. Until it was assumed - by one and all, including the two of them - that they were a couple.
The world’s fastest man, she’d laughed when he boasted, assumed he was just being a little cocky. But Clark agreed with him and that was that. Her boyfriend was the world’s fastest man. She wondered, somewhat pensively, what that would mean when they finally took that step.
She needn’t have worried.
There were some things that Bart took his time with. Worshipping her - because that was the only word she could think to describe what he did - was one of them.
Chloe’s breath came out as a moan, her entire body arching up with the need to be touched. From between her legs, she heard Bart chuckle, felt the rush of his breath over her that hot wetness, right before his tongue went back to doing that thing that he did so well. Long, slow, torturous - he licked her like he was trying to memorize the way that she tasted; as though he might suddenly wake up one day and never get to do it again and for that reason had to make the most of this time that he had with her here and now.
She wasn’t complaining.
Her hands grasped at the sheets under her palms, balling them up in her fists, her legs straining with the urge to close on Bart’s head, grind against his face. He was smirking and she knew it, didn’t need to lift her head to see the cocky tilt of his lips or the way that his eyes were sparkling with something that was lusty and playful all rolled into one. This - this - he could draw out for an eternity, even though he was quite capable of ending it quickly, too. That he only did when they were in a hurry, when they were stealing a few minutes between work or his extra-curricular activities. Then he could be quick as lightning, with fingers or tongue, bringing her to that peak so quick that it was dizzying.
That was not what he was doing right now.
She shivered and pressed against his hold on her legs again, cursing him under her breath when he wouldn’t let go. He hummed his amusement against her clit and she screamed his name, so close and yet so far. Was it wrong of her to pray for an emergency to come up - something to tear Bart away from that sweet spot between her legs? He’d hurry things up then, because no matter what, he’d never just left her desperate and wanting.
But no emergency reared its ugly head.
He slid one long finger into her and it went in like a hot knife through butter, with ease. Another lick of that wetness, from where his finger was inside of her all the way up and over the tingling bundle of nerves between her legs, making her whimper and moan. She was mumbling his name, unable to form a coherent thought. She leaned up on her elbows, arms trembling, and glared at him as sternly as she could manage when she was practically gasping for breath. “Please,” she managed to whisper.
Another chuckle was her only response. Chloe, flopped back down on the bed, suddenly robbed of her strength when Bart added another finger to her warmth and slowly began to work them in and out. Torture was the only word for it, and she told him that in no uncertain terms, knowing that her moans and breathless cries softened the harsh accusation.
She felt his lips curve into a smirk, knew the moment that he’d had enough and gave in to her pleas.
It took less than a minute under the flicker-tap vibrations of his tongue at high speeds to send her into a screaming fit as she came, hard; shaking and shuddering in his arms.
The smirk was still on his lips when he started a slow crawl up her body, dropping kisses on the skin that he passed along the way. Chloe’s breath hitched when he brushed his lips over first one nipple, then the next, and she was reminded all too clearly that he hadn’t yet finished when his body lay flat against hers.
“Now that you’re a little calmer,” he smirked. “We can really take our time.”
END