smallville fic: truth is the girl with a shovel
This is based on paraxdisepink 's hilarious snippet here. Hers is better. But this was fun. So...
Cracky Turbulence/Hex. Post Birthday wish, newly-liberated Chloe stalks Davis through a cornfield and takes on her greatest fear, good sex.
No more secrets.
Zantanna’s wish and an invincible heat ran through Chloe’s skin. Davis had her helpless, bound with her hands behind her back, trying to curl into fists into his jeans.
*
“Chloe.” He had whispered brokenly as she peered in on the grave he was digging. His body was all knotted up, tense, hard with energy that needed to get out.
“I know. You’re keeping the beast at bay.” She traced his cheek and his face turned into it. His eyes looked like he expected her to be screaming. All in good time.
Chloe kneeled over his lap and knocked him out with his shovel. “Don’t.”
*
Davis had deft fingers; she’d watched him in alleys as he trussed up a few dozen criminals, feeling frustrated and tetchy. It had gotten to be too much.
He woke up with red eyes and her sitting on top of him. The bump on his head was gone, and his neck tasted hot on her tongue, maybe more would taste better. His hands bumbled into that green dress of hers, and clenched, noticing, finally she wasn’t wearing panties.
“Chloe, what’s gotten into you?”
Far too little, apparently. His zipper was in the way of her first orgasm in four years. Davis detangled her mouth from his with a jolt; gave her more room to get his pants off. His fingers were on hers though, and she couldn't budge the warm weight of them, flush over her wrists, like he wouldn’t let her move-no not a little. She writhed and bit at his palm.
His skin thrummed, small sharp pressures like a heat wave. No matter what influence she was under, he had to roll her over, Davis thought, panicking. If knives broke on him, so could her teeth. She didn’t resist when he secured her hands.
He was leaning more towards fruity drink than sudden succubus possession. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Davis assured her. “Where did you come from?”
Chloe rubbed her nose across his ear, didn't answer. She could feel little tugs and prickles in her hair after a while as he clenched his jaw, catching some of her hair with it. “Birthday. You should’ve come. I wanted us to have sex.”
Davis blinked at her, distracting. If only she could touch the beast itself… “What do you remember?”
“Nothing.”
“Can you think of the last place you were for me? You’re all dressed up...”
“No. Last time you dropped me off to Clark and Jimmy. Jimmy takes fifteen seconds and cries. Uhm. Not going back." His eyes looked so funny, like he had that time in her shower cam. Her fingers pinched, the zipper groaned open. Chloe bit into her lip and shoved back. Davis sure kept a lot under the surface.
He was so bent on protecting her that he robbed them of their momentum. He tugged her arms up over her head and away from her grip on him. She writhed. “Oh- yes-do that.” They had a warm clothy rhythm going. Davis’s beast even pushed back a few times, jutting deep into her, making her insides quiver like when Clark when he danced around in his leotards.
Davis palmed her shoulders, making a conscious effort to stop. “Oh…come on…Davis….” Chloe dragged her head up a few inches and panted a soft stream of air into his ear. “You want me. I want you to. I know you can, I’ve seen what you do in your shower."
Davis reminded himself that she was under the influence and she could have as well told him she was the Red and Blue Blur. "Not until I know that's you in there. This isn't safe." A little more firmly. “I’m going to help you.” He wasn't even biting at her hair anymore.
“Can I sit down?” She sat without falling on her ass; he was all sincere hands in appropriate places. "Did you drink something?" he pressed, hands stroking under her chin.
"Nope. Would help." Chloe murmured piteously. She felt messy and all out of whack, stupid, and still a little invincible. Her arms were cold.
"I'll get you a drink. There's water my truck." Right next to his rosary. Under his super durable garbage bags and saw. Good god, he was the crazy one.
“Where am I?” She was finally coming around, forehead crinkled at the corn stalks broken up by neat piles of dirt. It was like the fortress to him, if only she had woken up.
Davis didn't protest when Chloe snuggled into his chest. "I'll get you home." he mumbled, keeping his fingers steady in her hair. It calmed him.
"I do have feelings for you." She mumbled off-hand. "It's hard being the Madonna, Davis. Is that wrong of me?"
Davis stared at her, eyes wet and transfixed, and he wasn't turning into a monster in an alley. He was a little more naked, then. Chloe slid the last inch down and held his eyes. Davis was too gentle of a guy to gag her.
His hand palmed her hair, and his head slid back with a catching noise.
"And I want your cock." She mumbled around him.
Cracky Turbulence/Hex. Post Birthday wish, newly-liberated Chloe stalks Davis through a cornfield and takes on her greatest fear, good sex.
No more secrets.
Zantanna’s wish and an invincible heat ran through Chloe’s skin. Davis had her helpless, bound with her hands behind her back, trying to curl into fists into his jeans.
*
“Chloe.” He had whispered brokenly as she peered in on the grave he was digging. His body was all knotted up, tense, hard with energy that needed to get out.
“I know. You’re keeping the beast at bay.” She traced his cheek and his face turned into it. His eyes looked like he expected her to be screaming. All in good time.
Chloe kneeled over his lap and knocked him out with his shovel. “Don’t.”
*
Davis had deft fingers; she’d watched him in alleys as he trussed up a few dozen criminals, feeling frustrated and tetchy. It had gotten to be too much.
He woke up with red eyes and her sitting on top of him. The bump on his head was gone, and his neck tasted hot on her tongue, maybe more would taste better. His hands bumbled into that green dress of hers, and clenched, noticing, finally she wasn’t wearing panties.
“Chloe, what’s gotten into you?”
Far too little, apparently. His zipper was in the way of her first orgasm in four years. Davis detangled her mouth from his with a jolt; gave her more room to get his pants off. His fingers were on hers though, and she couldn't budge the warm weight of them, flush over her wrists, like he wouldn’t let her move-no not a little. She writhed and bit at his palm.
His skin thrummed, small sharp pressures like a heat wave. No matter what influence she was under, he had to roll her over, Davis thought, panicking. If knives broke on him, so could her teeth. She didn’t resist when he secured her hands.
He was leaning more towards fruity drink than sudden succubus possession. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Davis assured her. “Where did you come from?”
Chloe rubbed her nose across his ear, didn't answer. She could feel little tugs and prickles in her hair after a while as he clenched his jaw, catching some of her hair with it. “Birthday. You should’ve come. I wanted us to have sex.”
Davis blinked at her, distracting. If only she could touch the beast itself… “What do you remember?”
“Nothing.”
“Can you think of the last place you were for me? You’re all dressed up...”
“No. Last time you dropped me off to Clark and Jimmy. Jimmy takes fifteen seconds and cries. Uhm. Not going back." His eyes looked so funny, like he had that time in her shower cam. Her fingers pinched, the zipper groaned open. Chloe bit into her lip and shoved back. Davis sure kept a lot under the surface.
He was so bent on protecting her that he robbed them of their momentum. He tugged her arms up over her head and away from her grip on him. She writhed. “Oh- yes-do that.” They had a warm clothy rhythm going. Davis’s beast even pushed back a few times, jutting deep into her, making her insides quiver like when Clark when he danced around in his leotards.
Davis palmed her shoulders, making a conscious effort to stop. “Oh…come on…Davis….” Chloe dragged her head up a few inches and panted a soft stream of air into his ear. “You want me. I want you to. I know you can, I’ve seen what you do in your shower."
Davis reminded himself that she was under the influence and she could have as well told him she was the Red and Blue Blur. "Not until I know that's you in there. This isn't safe." A little more firmly. “I’m going to help you.” He wasn't even biting at her hair anymore.
“Can I sit down?” She sat without falling on her ass; he was all sincere hands in appropriate places. "Did you drink something?" he pressed, hands stroking under her chin.
"Nope. Would help." Chloe murmured piteously. She felt messy and all out of whack, stupid, and still a little invincible. Her arms were cold.
"I'll get you a drink. There's water my truck." Right next to his rosary. Under his super durable garbage bags and saw. Good god, he was the crazy one.
“Where am I?” She was finally coming around, forehead crinkled at the corn stalks broken up by neat piles of dirt. It was like the fortress to him, if only she had woken up.
Davis didn't protest when Chloe snuggled into his chest. "I'll get you home." he mumbled, keeping his fingers steady in her hair. It calmed him.
"I do have feelings for you." She mumbled off-hand. "It's hard being the Madonna, Davis. Is that wrong of me?"
Davis stared at her, eyes wet and transfixed, and he wasn't turning into a monster in an alley. He was a little more naked, then. Chloe slid the last inch down and held his eyes. Davis was too gentle of a guy to gag her.
His hand palmed her hair, and his head slid back with a catching noise.
"And I want your cock." She mumbled around him.