Chlark ficlet - Go to Sleep, and Goodnight.
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.
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Chlark
Category: Family/Romance
Obviously, this is fictional.
Clark kneeled at the foot of the rocking chair inside his daughter’s nursery and watched with wide eyes as his girlfriend and his child slept. The steady rise and fall of their chest alluded to the conclusion that the pair of them were tired, tuckered out from a busy day of meet and greet conducted in accordance with the regulations demanded by Chloe’s cousin, Lois Lane. Nothing was too good for her niece.
Clark watched the bushy tufts of unruly, ebony hair upon her crown sway each time her mother exhaled. He knew the sensation, the whisper of Chloe’s warm breath upon his neck. He lived it, lived for it.
Two months after the harrowing birth of their baby girl that very nearly claimed her life, Chloe was still exhausted. They’d told him that it would improve with time, more often than not though, he blamed himself.
He was invulnerable, untouchable. Long periods of variable unrest had little to no affect on his system. As long as he treated himself to the splendors of the Earths son, he would remain unscathed.
With the ease of practice, Clark pushed himself back onto his feet and gently pried the child from her mother’s arm. Maternal instinct kicked up a notch and Chloe secured her grip, her daughters dainty head still cradled in the palm of her hand.
She was no match for Clark though, and he lifted the placid bundle free of her mothers embrace and made sure the muslin wrap was secured tightly, keeping her hands and feet tucked up against the warmth of her tiny body. Chloe insisted that she was wrapped just the same as the midwife had shown her.
He lowered her into the basinet and pulled up the linens, bending to place his lips at her temple.
“Good night, my little girl. It’s time for you and Mommy to go to sleep.”
Chloe’s head lolled against his shoulder as he moved her into the room across the hall, pulling back the freshly laundered satin sheets.
He sat on the edge of the old pine bed and pulled off his heavy boots. Prizing each button from its fastening, he shrugged off his button down plaid and draped it over the back of the chaise that sat in the corner.
His hand toyed with the fly of his jeans, and he hissed as the pads of his fingers grazed his semi-hard erection. He was needy. He turned towards his bed, his initial intention to don a pair of pajama pants and crawl beneath the sheets with Chloe. Clark was unprepared for the sight that greeted him.
Chloe sat propped up against the pillows and headboard. The two halves of her ruby red robe had eased apart, exposing her shoulder and the curve of her full breast. She toyed with the sash that was knotted loosely around her waist and her smooth legs kicking away the duvet that covered her.
Clark swallowed thickly and lumbered towards her.
Chloe rose to her knees and extended her arm, her finger crooking in a come-hither motion. She smiled, her tongue poking out from the gap between teeth as she worried her bottom lip back and forth.
His shins bumped the edge of the bed and he stood in amazement, captivated by her beauty. She was pale; the dark circled that rimmed her eyes did nothing for her complexion. Her hair was teased and in disarray, but in the eyes of Superman, Chloe Sullivan was plenty desirable.
“Chloe, what are you doing?” He asked. The pitch in his voice seemed to momentarily waver an octave lower than it should have.
“I’m waiting for you to get into bed, Clark.”
He watched her hand pat the spot where she wanted him, right next to her. His adams apple quivered as he swallowed again in quick succession, he knew that she was naked under the cloth that covered her body.
His jeans fell at his feet and he stepped out of them and kneeled upon the bed.
Feeling brazen, Chloe spread her knees apart and tried in vain to pull Clark into the cradle of her thighs. She tugged at his arm and he took the hint, falling into place with a sigh. He took Chloe’s ankle in his hand and lifted to his lips, kissing her foot before hiking her leg up over his hip and holding her in place below him. This was going to be hard, and fast, and her head was going to have to catch up with the rest of her body.
He held himself up with one strong arm, looming over her, the shape of his body casting a shadow as the strains of the moon spilt through the crack in the heavy drapes strung up over the windowsill.
He crushed his mouth to hers, bruising her lip in his haste. Chloe hissed when he held her bottom lip between his own, and then traced the line of her mouth with his tongue. The crisp evening breeze that came into contact with her swollen lip brought some relief, but the moment that Clark’s tongue dipped into the valley between her breasts, the fleeting twinge became irrelevant.
He knew that her breasts were tender, her nipples were responsive, and he nipped and lavished the full, creamy mounds with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh, yes, Clark.”
She felt him smile against her skin. Bastard. He was enjoying it too much.
Suitably distracted, Chloe arched her back and grasped at the elastic waistband of his shorts. She tucked her fingers into the fabric; his skin was scorching, like the simple act of her touch made him vulnerable.
The pads of her fingers curled around the turgid length and she swiped her thumb over the tip of his sex, his hips bucked involuntarily and his head snapped up, his eyes bore into hers and she knew she was all but done for.
Chloe hooked her fingers into the side of his shorts and he helped her to kick them off before he settled the bulk of his body back over hers. His thumb caressed her cheek as he took himself in hand and she smiled.
“I’ll be careful, Chloe. I’ll be slow, and patient, okay? You set the pace, this is all about you.”
Chloe nodded and her cheeks flushed a rich shade of blush.
“Clark,” She spoke aloud, her hand upon his as she grasped his wrist to still his actions.
“I know that I don’t say it a lot, but I love you. You know that, right?”
It was Clark’s turn to smile.
“Yeah, Chlo. I know. I love you too.”
He pushed his weight forward and claimed her lips again when the baby monitor on the nightstand came to life.
“Ignore it,” Chloe said, her forehead pressed against Clarks in frustration. “It’s called control crying. Just ignore her for now.”
Clark drew both of Chloe’s legs up over his hips and used his knee to part her thighs. She glistened in front of him, laid bare for him, Gods, he had missed her.
A hiccup and a sob and then another wail shook Clark from his musings.
Chloe thrust her hips up trying to take his length, but Clark couldn’t concentrate, his loyalties divided.
“I …” He stuttered. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I can’t. Not when Macy is just next door and she’s crying, she’s upset, Chlo. I’m going to check on her. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”
Chloe huffed, but she knew he was right and she needed this time alone with Clark.
“Alright. But if you’re not back in ten minutes, be warned, I will come after you.”
Clark chuckled and leaned over to press his lips against her nose.
“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, Chloe Sullivan.”
Clark retrieved his shorts from the floor and pulled them on in his haste to get out the door. When he entered the nursery and flipped the light switch, his heart twisted in agony. His daughter’s face was scrunched and red; she flailed tiny, angry fists and tears streamed down her face. He cradled her head as he picked her up and placed her carefully over his shoulder, ticking off details on his free hand as he went.
“Your diaper is clean and I know that you have a full tummy,” He spoke to himself as he swayed side to side.
“I think you’re too young for teeth, and I don’t sense any pain, that’s assuming you can even feel pain. What’s the matter, Macy Moo?”
Clark frowned and brought his hand up to pat her padded bottom; he placed his lips against her cheek and thought for a moment.
Placing her back into the basinet, he fiddled with the mobile that hung over her bead, directly within her line of sight. Tiny silver stars danced around a golden moon. Macy hiccupped again as the tune began to waft through the room. She gave a cough and then settled down into the fleece of her cotton blanket.
“She’s too much like you,” Chloe whispered from the doorway. “She needs to be highly stimulated. Sleep is overrated, isn’t it honey?”
She joined Clark at the edge of the polished timber cradle and observed her daughter. Wide, curious eyes, already tinged with mottled shades of blue-green watched the display with fascination.
“Let’s take a chance while we can,” Chloe whispered.
Clark pulled Chloe up into his arms; her feet left the floor and she giggled against his chest as the room became dark once more and he back the two of them into the hall. They fell through the bedroom door and onto the bed; Clark sprawled out onto his back with Chloe nestled on top of him. Chloe straddled his hips and pulled the fabric from his waist. His shorts were still down around his ankles when she sunk down onto him, sheathing him with heat and warmth.
They moved together with the ease of practiced lovers. Thick fingers held her in place as she rose and fell over and over again. He lifted his heavy head up off the pillow and sought her lips, his tongue tracing the line of her mouth as they dueled for control. The broad palm of his hand stroked the small of her damp back and she sighed.
Clark gave a grunt and Chloe felt his whole body tremble. She followed soon after, barely able to hold up her weight, panting, inhaling, and trying to catch her breath. Clark pulled her back down and held her to his chest, still hard; he loathed breaking the connection.
And in the midst of the dark room, the sounds of their heavy breathing and the mere rustle of damp bed sheets was broken by the baby monitor on the night stand.
“That’ll be Macy Kent again,” He chuckled.
But there was no reply.
Clark smiled and extracted Chloe from her position as her breathing had evened and she was curled up on top of him, fading into a blissful slumber.
“Good night, Chlo,” He spoke to the woman tucked up in the bed beside him.
“All right, Macy, Daddy’s coming,” He called to the little girl who was just as demanding as her mother, if not more so. Not that he really cared, hell, he was Superman, he could have it all.
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.
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Chlark
Category: Family/Romance
Obviously, this is fictional.
Clark kneeled at the foot of the rocking chair inside his daughter’s nursery and watched with wide eyes as his girlfriend and his child slept. The steady rise and fall of their chest alluded to the conclusion that the pair of them were tired, tuckered out from a busy day of meet and greet conducted in accordance with the regulations demanded by Chloe’s cousin, Lois Lane. Nothing was too good for her niece.
Clark watched the bushy tufts of unruly, ebony hair upon her crown sway each time her mother exhaled. He knew the sensation, the whisper of Chloe’s warm breath upon his neck. He lived it, lived for it.
Two months after the harrowing birth of their baby girl that very nearly claimed her life, Chloe was still exhausted. They’d told him that it would improve with time, more often than not though, he blamed himself.
He was invulnerable, untouchable. Long periods of variable unrest had little to no affect on his system. As long as he treated himself to the splendors of the Earths son, he would remain unscathed.
With the ease of practice, Clark pushed himself back onto his feet and gently pried the child from her mother’s arm. Maternal instinct kicked up a notch and Chloe secured her grip, her daughters dainty head still cradled in the palm of her hand.
She was no match for Clark though, and he lifted the placid bundle free of her mothers embrace and made sure the muslin wrap was secured tightly, keeping her hands and feet tucked up against the warmth of her tiny body. Chloe insisted that she was wrapped just the same as the midwife had shown her.
He lowered her into the basinet and pulled up the linens, bending to place his lips at her temple.
“Good night, my little girl. It’s time for you and Mommy to go to sleep.”
Chloe’s head lolled against his shoulder as he moved her into the room across the hall, pulling back the freshly laundered satin sheets.
He sat on the edge of the old pine bed and pulled off his heavy boots. Prizing each button from its fastening, he shrugged off his button down plaid and draped it over the back of the chaise that sat in the corner.
His hand toyed with the fly of his jeans, and he hissed as the pads of his fingers grazed his semi-hard erection. He was needy. He turned towards his bed, his initial intention to don a pair of pajama pants and crawl beneath the sheets with Chloe. Clark was unprepared for the sight that greeted him.
Chloe sat propped up against the pillows and headboard. The two halves of her ruby red robe had eased apart, exposing her shoulder and the curve of her full breast. She toyed with the sash that was knotted loosely around her waist and her smooth legs kicking away the duvet that covered her.
Clark swallowed thickly and lumbered towards her.
Chloe rose to her knees and extended her arm, her finger crooking in a come-hither motion. She smiled, her tongue poking out from the gap between teeth as she worried her bottom lip back and forth.
His shins bumped the edge of the bed and he stood in amazement, captivated by her beauty. She was pale; the dark circled that rimmed her eyes did nothing for her complexion. Her hair was teased and in disarray, but in the eyes of Superman, Chloe Sullivan was plenty desirable.
“Chloe, what are you doing?” He asked. The pitch in his voice seemed to momentarily waver an octave lower than it should have.
“I’m waiting for you to get into bed, Clark.”
He watched her hand pat the spot where she wanted him, right next to her. His adams apple quivered as he swallowed again in quick succession, he knew that she was naked under the cloth that covered her body.
His jeans fell at his feet and he stepped out of them and kneeled upon the bed.
Feeling brazen, Chloe spread her knees apart and tried in vain to pull Clark into the cradle of her thighs. She tugged at his arm and he took the hint, falling into place with a sigh. He took Chloe’s ankle in his hand and lifted to his lips, kissing her foot before hiking her leg up over his hip and holding her in place below him. This was going to be hard, and fast, and her head was going to have to catch up with the rest of her body.
He held himself up with one strong arm, looming over her, the shape of his body casting a shadow as the strains of the moon spilt through the crack in the heavy drapes strung up over the windowsill.
He crushed his mouth to hers, bruising her lip in his haste. Chloe hissed when he held her bottom lip between his own, and then traced the line of her mouth with his tongue. The crisp evening breeze that came into contact with her swollen lip brought some relief, but the moment that Clark’s tongue dipped into the valley between her breasts, the fleeting twinge became irrelevant.
He knew that her breasts were tender, her nipples were responsive, and he nipped and lavished the full, creamy mounds with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh, yes, Clark.”
She felt him smile against her skin. Bastard. He was enjoying it too much.
Suitably distracted, Chloe arched her back and grasped at the elastic waistband of his shorts. She tucked her fingers into the fabric; his skin was scorching, like the simple act of her touch made him vulnerable.
The pads of her fingers curled around the turgid length and she swiped her thumb over the tip of his sex, his hips bucked involuntarily and his head snapped up, his eyes bore into hers and she knew she was all but done for.
Chloe hooked her fingers into the side of his shorts and he helped her to kick them off before he settled the bulk of his body back over hers. His thumb caressed her cheek as he took himself in hand and she smiled.
“I’ll be careful, Chloe. I’ll be slow, and patient, okay? You set the pace, this is all about you.”
Chloe nodded and her cheeks flushed a rich shade of blush.
“Clark,” She spoke aloud, her hand upon his as she grasped his wrist to still his actions.
“I know that I don’t say it a lot, but I love you. You know that, right?”
It was Clark’s turn to smile.
“Yeah, Chlo. I know. I love you too.”
He pushed his weight forward and claimed her lips again when the baby monitor on the nightstand came to life.
“Ignore it,” Chloe said, her forehead pressed against Clarks in frustration. “It’s called control crying. Just ignore her for now.”
Clark drew both of Chloe’s legs up over his hips and used his knee to part her thighs. She glistened in front of him, laid bare for him, Gods, he had missed her.
A hiccup and a sob and then another wail shook Clark from his musings.
Chloe thrust her hips up trying to take his length, but Clark couldn’t concentrate, his loyalties divided.
“I …” He stuttered. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I can’t. Not when Macy is just next door and she’s crying, she’s upset, Chlo. I’m going to check on her. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”
Chloe huffed, but she knew he was right and she needed this time alone with Clark.
“Alright. But if you’re not back in ten minutes, be warned, I will come after you.”
Clark chuckled and leaned over to press his lips against her nose.
“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, Chloe Sullivan.”
Clark retrieved his shorts from the floor and pulled them on in his haste to get out the door. When he entered the nursery and flipped the light switch, his heart twisted in agony. His daughter’s face was scrunched and red; she flailed tiny, angry fists and tears streamed down her face. He cradled her head as he picked her up and placed her carefully over his shoulder, ticking off details on his free hand as he went.
“Your diaper is clean and I know that you have a full tummy,” He spoke to himself as he swayed side to side.
“I think you’re too young for teeth, and I don’t sense any pain, that’s assuming you can even feel pain. What’s the matter, Macy Moo?”
Clark frowned and brought his hand up to pat her padded bottom; he placed his lips against her cheek and thought for a moment.
Placing her back into the basinet, he fiddled with the mobile that hung over her bead, directly within her line of sight. Tiny silver stars danced around a golden moon. Macy hiccupped again as the tune began to waft through the room. She gave a cough and then settled down into the fleece of her cotton blanket.
“She’s too much like you,” Chloe whispered from the doorway. “She needs to be highly stimulated. Sleep is overrated, isn’t it honey?”
She joined Clark at the edge of the polished timber cradle and observed her daughter. Wide, curious eyes, already tinged with mottled shades of blue-green watched the display with fascination.
“Let’s take a chance while we can,” Chloe whispered.
Clark pulled Chloe up into his arms; her feet left the floor and she giggled against his chest as the room became dark once more and he back the two of them into the hall. They fell through the bedroom door and onto the bed; Clark sprawled out onto his back with Chloe nestled on top of him. Chloe straddled his hips and pulled the fabric from his waist. His shorts were still down around his ankles when she sunk down onto him, sheathing him with heat and warmth.
They moved together with the ease of practiced lovers. Thick fingers held her in place as she rose and fell over and over again. He lifted his heavy head up off the pillow and sought her lips, his tongue tracing the line of her mouth as they dueled for control. The broad palm of his hand stroked the small of her damp back and she sighed.
Clark gave a grunt and Chloe felt his whole body tremble. She followed soon after, barely able to hold up her weight, panting, inhaling, and trying to catch her breath. Clark pulled her back down and held her to his chest, still hard; he loathed breaking the connection.
And in the midst of the dark room, the sounds of their heavy breathing and the mere rustle of damp bed sheets was broken by the baby monitor on the night stand.
“That’ll be Macy Kent again,” He chuckled.
But there was no reply.
Clark smiled and extracted Chloe from her position as her breathing had evened and she was curled up on top of him, fading into a blissful slumber.
“Good night, Chlo,” He spoke to the woman tucked up in the bed beside him.
“All right, Macy, Daddy’s coming,” He called to the little girl who was just as demanding as her mother, if not more so. Not that he really cared, hell, he was Superman, he could have it all.