Welcome to My Chlollie World...

Welcome to my blog. I've created it mainly as a place to archive my writings. Currently, my focus is on the pairing of Chloe Sullivan/Oliver Queen of Smallville, also affectionately known in fandom, as Chlollie. I began writing for this couple as Smallville entered it's seventh season, not ever really expecting them to become Smallville canon. So imagine my pleasant surprise (okay, I squealed like a fangirl in the throes of a fangasm) when the showrunners decided to put them together. I don't know what the show will do with them, but I don't care. I'll always adore them, and Chlollie will ALWAYS be my One True Pairing. I write about them for fun, as creative outlet, and because I think they're perfect together, and have the potential to be a supercouple, comic-book "mythos" be damned. The Green Arrow of Smallville belongs with his Watchtower. Most of my stories contain adult content, so please don't read if you are under the age of 18. All story graphic arts and manips are created by me unless otherwise stated. Feedback is always welcome. Thank you for reading!

And now for the boring stuff so no one sues me. Feel free to read it in that fast talking lawyer kind of voice, like at the end of a radio commercial.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Final note: I never believed in the years that I've loved this couple, that the show would do the right thing by them. But as a fangirl I just have to say, OMGOMGOMG! THEY ARE MARRIED!!! Thank you, Smallville for giving my couple the happy ending they deserve!

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Poison Chapter 12

Chapter 12

For the second time in nearly two weeks, the alarm had sounded throughout the Cadmus Labs building, warning the occupants to evacuate. Fifteen minutes later, the night sky was alight with explosions and flames reaching heavenward. Lex Luthor looked on from a distance, as his lab was destroyed. The Green Arrow. He’d seen the man lying in a ditch last. And yet, he’d appeared before Lex, seeming healthy and fit when he should have been incapacitated or dead from the effects of the drug. Lex squinted against the light of yet another explosion, the glow playing across his hardened features, and he vowed to uncover yet another mystery surrounding the elusive Emerald Archer. The war wasn’t over yet.

* * * * *

Chloe smiled, sighing in relief when she heard Oliver’s distorted voice over the comm. taunting Lex. Thank God, Clark had gotten there in time. He then hailed her, while running through the corridors. “Arrow to Watchtower. Coming home to you.”

Thirty minutes later they’d returned, and Chloe greeted all of her heroes with hugs, and then her own green, leather-clad hero entered the warehouse and Chloe ran to him. In one forward motion, she was swept up, being lifted into the cradle of his arms, and thoroughly kissed.

“That’s what I call a welcome.” He smiled down at her as she slid down his length and he set her on her feet. Oliver thought it was a welcome he could come home to every night for the rest of his life.

The doctor soon entered, and Chloe turned slightly within the confines of Oliver’s arms to cast a glance at him, seeing how battered he was. She looked back, up at Oliver. “We can’t let his daughters see him like that,” she whispered urgently. “They haven’t seen their father in over a week. They’ll be frightened if they see him this way.”

Oliver gazed down at her. Her green eyes, always so expressive, telling him her every thought and emotion. He knew what she wanted to do, and squeezed her lightly, touching his forehead to hers. “Go on, see to him before he wants to greet his daughters,” he said, kissing her softly before letting her go, and watching her walk away. She approached the doctor and then led him to another area of the warehouse.

Oliver had known of her ability long before he’d ever seen her use it, and even before they were together, she had healed him of minor cuts, and gashes, usually after a mission and always privately after everyone else had gone, but he’d never really known or seen the extent of the affect it could have on her until he’d seen her use it on a gunshot wound; his gunshot wound.

It had been during a mission in Gotham City, a week before their destined first kiss under a tree at the Excelsior fundraiser. He’d asked her to come along with the team and run comm. Things didn’t go exactly the way they’d planned, the mission ending when he’d been shot. As Bruce helped him back toward the communications van, she had leapt out of it, having heard it all in her earpiece. She ran to him, calling out for him. It was a gunshot wound to the shoulder, just under the collarbone, and before he could argue with her or stop her, she’d raised her hands, slipping them inside his opened vest, and laying them over the wound. Much to the Bat’s amazement, her hands glowed, bright light beaming from her fingertips, engulfing Arrow’s shoulder. In that same instant, soothing warmth permeated Oliver’s every cell and the pain was gone, his wound was gone, but now, suddenly it became hers. He watched worriedly as her face contorted in pain, and she gasped, a small cry escaping her. She began to sway on her feet, her legs giving out, and he snaked an arm around her, pulling her up against him, holding her close. Both he and Bruce panicked, as her head fell forward against his chest, and though she argued stubbornly that she could walk, he picked her up and carried her back into the van.

Oliver had held her in his lap, cradling her for a good twenty minutes. Bruce sat opposite him quietly the entire time, watching, observing Oliver’s concern, the way he spoke softly to her, telling her she was going to be okay, chastising her quietly for healing him, noting the way Oliver stroked her hair, her cheek, a gloved hand trailing down her arm. He’d held her until she’d regained her strength, becoming flushed and embarrassed over the entire incident, brushing it off as nothing. He held her until small hands had to push at his lean, muscled arms and convince him to let her up, that she was fine, protesting that she didn’t need him to coddle her.

After she’d gotten up, and moved the few steps back toward the comm. console busying herself, Bruce looked at him, and Oliver met his gaze. Only now upon recollection of that night, did the glint in Batman’s eyes, and the knowing smirk Bruce gave him have meaning. Even he could see in a few moment’s time, what the other team members saw and teased them about, the same truth Oliver had tried to deny until a kiss under a tree a week later; the Green Arrow was falling in love with his Watchtower.

Since that time he’d not wanted her to use her ability on him, and up until almost two weeks ago, there had been no reason to, and he wondered once again, how long she’d been in pain for him, when she’d healed him from the effects of the drug.

“I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, and for my family, Mr. Queen. Or shall I call you, Green Arrow?”

Dr. McClellan’s voice broke into Oliver’s thoughts, and he turned toward him. “You’re welcome,” he answered as the doctor shook his hand. Chloe had healed him of the various cuts and bruises about his face. “I suppose Green Arrow is fine for now, considering my current state of dress.”

“I can’t thank Ms. Sullivan enough for her kind and generous offer.” The doctor seemed on the verge of tears. “It means more than you know.”

Oliver simply nodded, not certain what he was referring to, but thinking the doctor meant her offer to heal him. Just then, peels of laughter and squeals of delight accompanied by the sound of running feet filled the warehouse, and Dr. McClellan crouched down opening his arms to be affectionately assaulted by two dark-haired little girls. “Daddy! Daddy!”

Oliver felt Chloe next to him, and he reached for her hand entwining their fingers, and tugging her closer as they watched the little family reunion.

“We’re ready to go whenever you are,” Victor approached. “We’ll set you and your family up in a hotel for a few nights, doctor. We want to make certain that Luthor’s men are not near the house before going back.”

“Thank you again. Thank you so much,” the doctor said between his daughter’s hugs and kisses. He’d never been away from them for this long before, and he’d missed them terribly. Now it seemed the ordeal with Luthor was ending, and he’d hoped to have his life back again. Soon they’d all filed out of the warehouse, and the rest of the team gathered up the gear, and the temporary comm. system was taken down and packed away.

Everyone had left. “Ready to go?” Oliver asked. “Looks as though you’ll get to ride on the new bike,” he grinned, wondering how she’d manage in a skirt, and thinking about how much leg would be exposed when the skirt hiked up. Now he really wanted to get home, and get her into bed.

“Not yet,” she said taking both of his hands in hers. She had a devious look in her eyes, and her lips curved in the smallest of smiles. She walked backward, tugging him along.

“Where are we going?”


Oliver’s heart began to pound as she moved closer to the wall. The same wall he had pinned her against over a week ago, ready to assault her while under the influence of the drug. “Chloe… I-I don’t think…” Her back was against the wall now. “I don’t think this is… a good idea.”

“Don’t think. Kiss me,” she whispered, reaching up, wrapping her arms around his neck, slipping her fingers in his hair, pulling his head down. He kissed her. “I want you, Ollie.” She kissed him. “Here. Now. Like this.” Her soft lips met his once more, and he felt his resolve melting, his worries dissolving. “I want you so much,” she breathed against his mouth invitingly, her lips and her words causing the blood to rush heated through his veins.

He tore off his gloves, tossing them aside, and grasped her hips, nudging her back against the wall, pressing his body against hers, pressing her against the wall. And now he was kissing her more urgently, each kiss deeper, hotter, and hungrier than the last. Their breaths mingling on soft sighs and moans, tongues meeting and exploring each other’s mouths. Each kiss making him harder, making him ache, making him want.

His mouth traveled hotly over her jaw line, his warm breath tickling her skin, causing Chloe to gasp and shiver and rub against him. Large hands moved to caress her thighs, slipping under her skirt, sliding it higher, over her hips now and up to her waist. Fingers curling over the edge of her panties, sliding them down, and slipping a finger inside her. “You’re so wet,” he panted in her ear, before his lips moved over her cheek, seeking hers once more to kiss her mouth devouringly. He felt her wiggle out of her panties, kicking them off, and open her legs for him, giving him more access. “So wet.” He needed to taste her, have more of her.

Suddenly his lips were gone from hers, and Chloe felt bereft, until just as suddenly his mouth replaced his fingers, and she looked down to find him on his knees, dipping his head, to lick her clit, sucking, lapping up her wetness with his tongue, causing her to cry out in ecstasy, shuddering. Sweet agony. His hands stroked the backs of her thighs, moving higher to grasp her bottom, fingers digging in to her soft flesh, pulling her closer to his hungry mouth. She was a goddess being worshipped by a god. Chloe closed her eyes arching her body away from the wall, the back of her head pressed against the hard surface. She ran her fingers through his hair, gripping him, holding him, hips gyrating, pressing her mound against his mouth until she thought she’d die of pleasure, and her legs began to tremble, unable to withstand the intense pleasure his lips and tongue and teeth created. It was nothing less than exquisite torture.

Once again he’d moved, leaving her breathless and weak, and nearly unable to stand. He quickly undid his leather pants, and now strong hands grasped the back of her thighs, pushing her up against the wall, lifting her. Chloe wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and Oliver guided himself, pushing his hips forward, entering her slowly, just a bit, then withdrawing, then entering her again, only an inch, sliding the tip of his manhood into her silken walls slightly, but not completely. He did this several times, entering her gradually, a few inches, then retreating, driving her insane with need for him.

“Teasing me, are you,” she whispered, a slow smile spreading on her lips.

He grinned. “Teasing us both.”

She kissed his smiling lips, then gasped, moaning into his mouth as he pushed forward suddenly, plunging deeply, and filling her completely this time. Need, powerful and consuming overcame them both, and Oliver drove into her relentlessly, pushing her against the wall with every thrust, her back thumping lightly against the hard surface rhythmically. Their mouths finally separated only slightly, noses brushing against one another’s, lips parted inches apart sharing each other’s breath. Chloe lifted her lids to find him gazing at her with longing, with desire, with love. She was unable to take her eyes from his, closing over only briefly as he continued to fill her, hard, over and over, again and again, the delicious kindling in her belly threatening to ignite and enflame at any moment.

The tip of his tongue darted out to lick his lips, wetting them briefly before he spoke. “Chloe…” his voice faltered, trailing off on a deep groan, as though unable to speak more than her name. One hand gripped the back of her thigh, the other grasping her hip, fingers flexing, squeezing her tighter. His brows knit, the muscles of his body tensing as his hips pushed her against the wall, faster now, harder, and Chloe knew he was unable to hold himself much longer.

And then, and then… there was no stopping it. “Now, Ollie…” she moaned on a shuddering breath. The pulsating tremors in her womb radiated throughout her entire body, erupting, flowing, numbing tendrils of heat washing over her, in tides of unending waves. “ ... oh God!”

His sounds of ecstasy, deeper, richer, echoed hers as he came, his movements inside her heat, erratic now, faltering rhythm, stopping, starting, slowing, as he filled her, pulsing with his warm release.

Panting, filling their lungs with air, they relaxed against one another. Chloe’s forehead falling against his shoulder. Oliver withdrew from her moist warmth slowly and lowered her, as her legs slid down over his until her feet reached the floor. He pressed slow, breathless kisses over her forehead, her temple, her cheek as he held her up, still flush against the wall, feeling her body tremble with the aftermath, barely able to stand. He was trembling too, arms encircling her, pulling her away from the wall and into himself, her cheek pressed against the leather of his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist.

They stood clinging to one another. He didn’t know what to say, too emotion-filled to speak. There were no words large enough, descriptive enough to encompass all he felt for her. Even ‘I love you,’ didn’t seem to cover it. It was so much more, so much deeper, and words simply failed him. Oliver lifted his head and cupping her cheeks, she lifted light emerald eyes to his dark brown. They gazed at one another, saying all without words, his eyes telling her everything he felt. “Chloe,” he whispered. Her name, a reverent prayer from his lips. Trying to find words to tell her all his heart wanted to say.

“It’s okay, love. I know. It’s the same for me.”

His head descended, his lips slanting, hovering momentarily, brushing his lips over hers like a whisper before covering them, parting them, kissing her tenderly. She knew. And that’s all that mattered.

End Chapter 12

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