dusted in ash

Reccing Notes: This will make you hurt very much. About the beauty/beast aspect of Chloe/Davis and Davis being caught inside Doomsday, a cycle of rage and pain and brief moments of lucidity that he can never stop.

by restlessme at her livejournal
177 words, pg-13, doomsday

Cool hand brushes his face and he leans into the touch, craves the tough so much he could scream.

He gasps in breaths through lungs that are far unused to the actions.

The room darkens around him with quickening breaths that leave his mind spinning in dizzying circles
(like when he was younger and pretended it was just a game).

Heart beats with new blood, hot blood that burns his veins as he struggles to sit.
Fires bloom to life around him, edge closer but he feels no heat; no pain.

He's so unsure about what has happened, so confused as to what kind of monster he is.
Monster trapped deep inside him, monster making him think sick thoughts (he's not sure if it's the monster or him).

Cool hand brushes his face and he leans into the touch, craves the tough so much he could scream.
Would scream, does scream because the touch is so cooling it burns into his soul.

She sobs above him, tears stinging open cuts upon his face that stitch themselves back together.
His lips open, struggle to speak through vocal chords that were moments ago blackened by ash (dusted with age).

"Chloe", he gasps, eyes flashing red as she sadly smiles.

basic need

Reccing Notes: Remember I said I was obsessed with the Soul's Prisoners? I did a sequel, which is waayyy not as good as nonkys first, but it has porn. So there.

by vagrantdream at defying mythos

868 words, r/nc-17, alternate universe

Davis shifted his weight, from one elbow to the other on the bed, his weight light as he fell on her. She’d seen a soldier’s AK-47 disassemble into mental pieces; disintegrate on contact with his arm.

“I’ll hurt you.”

“I don’t care.”

Chloe knew what she’d been unleashing when she unlocked his cuffs. There was something inside Davis, something created out of a primal and deadly fear. Human weapons were on their trail; one deposed, protective General with a shot-gun loaded with Kryptonite bullets was not far behind. They’d seen what Davis’s flesh could do, as humanely as they treated him. Freedom for them both was a compromise now, just don’t get caught. He was defined by his danger, by his apartness from all that was human.

Chloe saw a Davis with the lighting up looks and hands that had never closed too tightly even as she confided the most frightening things she’d found in arcane Kawachee legends. It was what she did; her occupation, to help those who were different. It seemed impossible at first, until she saw with her own eyes. He fascinated her. He didn’t search for a place to put the blame for his condition. He watched her with cautious, seeing eyes. He had a power, and given the choice he would use it for good. She fell into a soft, stomach-fluttering pit with him; grasping- ungainly at finding reasons. I know who you really are; I can’t care what. And now here, away, in a nameless stopping place together, they were free to feel.

There was the prickling warmth, there, somewhere shockingly low as he rubbed her cheekbone with his thumb. It was a basic thing, touch. Chloe turned her head into it, lips parting in an effort to suck in a breath. His intercepted, alien and shockingly dry. The pressure of his lips diving into hers was good and warm and grounding; her mouth went wet with tender breaths. The air between them was coiled as tight as a spring.

Chloe pulled on his loose grey shirt, un-tucked it from his pants and touched under them though she didn’t know how. He held very still, eyes misty and body hard. She barely felt her nightgown, the dipping intrusion of cloth replaced by large hands under her thighs, lifting her by instinct, lining their bodies to each other.

His hands settled her palms around his shoulders very lightly. There was steel under that, somewhere. His cock rubbed against simple cotton, swollen and smooth and she wondered at how that could fit while he kissed her like he was trying to get in. He didn’t grind, but she did, and maybe she did alright. Chloe couldn’t compare male reaction times like Lois, but the heat of him helplessly thrusting between the ring she formed with her fingers felt perfectly natural.

Thrums escaped in sighing sounds through paper-thin walls. Her hand dropped to feel him inside her; palm bracing in a gasp of surprise. Davis didn’t move, but his face trickled moisture against her neck. It was hotter than she expected, slipping and pulsing with life. There was supposed to be more. Chloe arched her back, hoping for anything but this needing. He soothed hands down the back of her nightdress, lifted her legs and rubbed until she choked back the sound.

Davis lifted her and pressed her back down on the nondescript, cold sheets of their hotel bed. He knew the walls wouldn’t hold up to any of his thrusts. The smile he was holding toyed across his face as he held her and made slick, pecking overtures to her mouth. Shifting restlessly, he hit something. Chloe yanked at the edges of his unbuttoned shirt to pull him down on her, swiveling forward with all the amateur grace of a kitten freewheeling in the air. They fell sideways with in thump of restless, needy appendages.

Davis shifted his weight, from one elbow to the other on the bed, his weight light as he fell on her. She’d seen a soldier’s AK-47 disassemble into mental pieces; disintegrate on contact with his arm. He didn’t leave the slightest painful indentation on her skin. It’s okay. It’s okay. She could have almost bet that that something inside Davis didn’t tell him to fuck her soft, sweet and slow. But he did, a hint of something harder-edged in unyielding palms smoothing over her hipbones, keeping her open to him as the throb worsened.

Chloe fell into a curious vertigo, nerves alighting with separate sensations of hard, light and deep like drums were pounding in her ears. Her body tossed and flinched away, into his roughly exhaling mouth in a tight spasm of heat. His bones were made of something stronger than steel and he was softening inside her.

Her hands felt too heavy to reach out, to feel, to wonder what stuff he was made of. It didn’t hurt this time; maybe one day it would. She knew what it was like to have that choice; she’d had a chance to admit he meant more than that. Maybe this was what it was like to grow up.

“Chloe- " His mouth opened in a rumbling noise. “Hey.” Davis encircled her fingers with his fascinated ones; crushingly strong bones over powdery human metacarpals. She’d seen something gentle in him before they’d even touched.

Chloe squeezed her fingers over his, giddy at his eyes and his weight on her and the thousands of miles they were free to roam. Call it a premonition. She wouldn’t break.

the soul's prisoners

Reccing Notes: Nonky writes canon fic with the best of them, but she also has an insane gift for creating alternate universes that you need more of desperately. Davis is a long held government experiment and Chloe is the curious reporter girl who gives her whole heart. Read this and tell me you wouldn't be obsessed enough to write sequel porn. Woops! is that just me? :P

by nonky at her livejournal,

170 words, pg, this needs no canon!

Once Davis realized the bullets zinging off his flesh could hit her, he fought the guards that had been peacefully walking him to his daily battery of tests.

“I'll hurt you,” Davis said, his voice hard and nervous.

She knelt on a concrete floor, her eyes on his, mind spinning far beyond the cell and Marines beyond. She didn't disagree with him. He would hurt her, and some moments it would feel like dying. She was old enough to know heartache didn't kill, and it would eventually provide some perverse company on her worst days. She gave her whole heart.

“I don't care,” she told him, ignoring the alarms that sounded as she used the stolen keycard on his shackles.

Her uncle couldn't call a cease fire, but it wasn't necessary. Once Davis realized the bullets zinging off his flesh could hit her, he fought the guards that had been peacefully walking him to his daily battery of tests.

She was risking the world and almost certainly destroying her uncle's career. She was marking her loved ones for suspicion. Davis ripped a chain link fence off its moorings, and she took his hand. She gave her whole heart

to feel (two drabblets)

Reccers Notes: Before there was Chloe and Davis on the show as we know them now, there were Chloom fans who saw the possibilities. These longing drabblets got me shipping before I ever took a look at Smallville (actually, when I was forsworn to never watch it). It may very well be the first step to addiction!

by iliana1 at her livejournal
385 words, pg, preseason.

She just knew that he made her feel.

He made her feel…


she searched for a word and came up with nothing. Words were trade, her currency, they always had been so the blank was more then disquieting. She just knew that he made her feel.



It was different from the way Clark slotted into her life, her soul. He was different. He had a way of looking at her as if she was something precious, to be admired and touched with awe and she wondered if that was how Lana had felt under Clark’s gaze.



Jimmy had never made her feel that way and the thought gnawed at her uncomfortably. Jimmy had never made her feel half of what she should for someone she was about to marry and she knew she had to end the farce soon. To cut him free and herself too.



There were only so many emotions she could juggle, only so many feelings she could feel and she wasn’t prepared to give up on the shades Davis brought to her life and she had never been able to give up on Clark. This though strengthened her resolve. Jimmy was better out of it. Out of the tangle of emotions she couldn’t govern and out of her life.



***



She looked up, pleasure brightening her eyes and colouring her cheeks and she wondered if she had heard right, “what?”



He looked up at her through dark lashes, large hands cradling his mug of coffee and his voice was low when he spoke.



“Safe,” he repeated. “You make me feel safe.” A wry smile pulled at his lips, “which is bizarre as I barely know you.”



“It’s not bizarre.” Her denial was more, far more vehement then she had intended and she checked herself. “It’s not bizarre,” she repeated in a whisper, wondering why the hell it was so important to convince him.



“Maybe not but it’s new.”



Their eyes met and she grinned brightly, blushing when he didn’t look away but tilted his head to look at her more closely.



“And how do I make you feel Chloe?”



She shook her head, “I don’t know.” It wasn’t a lie. He confused her and he must have sensed her hesitance because he laughed softly cutting through the tension.



He had let her off the hook. For now at least.



She adores and cherishes comments, I hear. ;)

you tame the beast within, trust

Reccing Notes: About the time of Abyss, Chloe and Davis gave off tragic-in-love-but-doomed vibes. *Even before Eternal*.
restlessme takes all these possibilities, and in few words, fulfills them so that you can't help but feel heartbreak for them both and what they feel. Angst, angst- delicious beautiful angst.

by restlessme at her livejournal
114 and 137 words respectively, pg, prey and abyss

The beast inside him screams for more scarlet upon the city of Metropolis; for the Krypton boy. But the man just wants blond woman, woman who with just a touch rebuilds walls slowly breaking.


(you tame the beast within)


Her touch is the faintest memory in his mind as he struggles not to become the monster hiding deep inside.

Shuts his eyes, gasps are broken breaths that never seem to even. Bones snap through flesh; screams of pain lodged in his throat, choking him.

Memories of blond hair threading through his hands fly past, so quick he can barely remembering even bringing them up.

The beast inside him screams for more scarlet upon the city of Metropolis; for the Krypton boy.
But the man just wants blond woman, woman who with just a touch rebuilds walls slowly breaking.

Eyes clench tighter as he lets out a scream that cuts off into something more feral.


---------------------


(trust)

She doesn't tell him her secrets; he doesn't bestow her with his.

He supposes they don't tell each other those secrets simply because betrayal hurts too much to bother trying.

Eyes turn away as he walks out the door, gone for hours upon hours.
They used to be spent worrying that perhaps...perhaps he'd never come back.

Until she found the blood splattered on his clothes one night.
Pretended to be blind because that was easier then the truth.

He grips her face between his palms, tears falling down her face.
"I have to do it Chloe, its destiny," he whispers, voice broken into so many pieces.

She clenches her eyes shut and nods her head. He trusts her, even through all this, trusts her not to betray love for friend.

"I'll miss you," she murmurs, voice cracking as she falls apart, seven years of bad luck.