kitten
11th November 2004, 14:44
SPOILER WARNING: Spoilers abound up to the current episode in U.S./ Canadian release, Spell.
Disclaimer: Smallville, the characters therein, and all affiliated copyrighted materials are owned by the WB. This is a work of fanfiction not intended for profit or infringement, only for the pleasure of fans of the series.
Distribution: I have posted these stories and have control of them on this site. I don't want them to be posted anywhere else unless I'm the one posting them. Please take down my stories if you have them posted on another archive site. I understand I can't stop you from doing this but I hope by asking politely you'll respect my work and my wishes. If anyone has more comfort and convenience saving the text of a story to their own computer, I have no problem with that.
A/N: I write the Chlex scenes that never appear on Smallville for fear of making people happy with the show. So I was kind of delighted that it was Chloe’s 18th birthday, and a little intrigued that Witchy Lana couldn’t use her hair for the spell she was doing. I’m taking that to mean that Chloe is a card-carrying non virgin because she’s been boffing Lex three ways from Sunday for months.
(Logic gap, what logic gap? I don’t see it. Wait I’ll go closer. Ow, I fell in this huge plot hole. Stupid plot. I’ll get you.)
This is a smutty reinterpretation, PWP, because we all know Chloe didn’t want to watch Clark convulse and call it dancing for her birthday.
So, it’s Chloe who finds Lex playing the piano infinitas and she has to . . . ahem . . . save him.
Bespelled (1/2)
Chloe woke up with a jolt, pushing herself up on her elbows. She winced as her strange bed scratched her arms through the thin sweater she was wearing. Prying open her eyes she saw that she was in the Kents’ barn, on top of a bale of hay. Harsh, blinding sun was blaring in through the large windows and she let her head fall back down.
When her hangover allowed, Chloe tried to think of what had led her to sleep in a barn. True, it had once featured prominently in certain fantasies in her youthful attraction to a certain farm boy, but those fantasies had been replaced by better material and reality.
She felt someone move around restlessly next to her and hoped it was some kind of meteor freak.
If I’ve been drugged with those damn rocks again, I’m going to cut off every part of Clark Kent that touched me, she thought bitterly.
Looking down seemed like a better alternative than seeing who was lying beside her, and Chloe did so.
Ew, she thought, what was the theme of my birthday - Legal and Easy? And how long has it been since it was fashionable to wear a shrug? Goodness ladies, no need to give away all the mystery.
Chloe tried to readjust her dress to cover more than half of her breasts, but there wasn’t enough cloth to do so. Huffing a sigh, she sat up and prepared to face her sleeping companion. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and turned her head to the side, chanting a litany of hopes in her head.
Let it be Lex, let it be Lex, let it be Lex . . .
She opened her eyes enough to see brown hair and closed them again, shuddering.
Let it be Lois, let it be Lois, let it be Lois . . .
Chloe forced herself to look again and managed about three seconds before her eyes closed up in self-preservation. She fisted her hands in the hay and analyzed the picture in her head.
Long, brown hair, female, fully clothed. Lois or Lana or a complete stranger. Just not Clark.
Reenergized by the discovery, Chloe opened her eyes and looked around the barn. There were naked couples everywhere and she briefly wondered who had decided the surprise part of her surprise party should be finding out who you slept with the previous night. Probably Lois.
Standing up, she looked back at her bed, seeing that the person beside her had indeed been Lois. Shaking her head, Chloe walked to the open barn doors.
“The next time I throw an orgy I’m staying sober.”
She did a cursory check of all the passed out teenagers, but they all seemed to be physically fine. She would have written the whole thing off as a group bender except it was Clark Kent and friends throwing a party for her. No party he planned could possibly be so interesting.
Meteor rocks, she thought. Definitely.
Looking balefully down at her partially exposed breasts, Chloe considered a solution. The only one she could come up with was unfortunate, but at least she would get to see Lex. Maybe he would even lend her a shirt and spare her the indignity of going home looking like the slutty witch from Charmed.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++
Chloe used the service entrance in deference to the early hour, but she still met a few members of Lex’s staff. They bobbed their heads in the curious little nod that she associated with domestics, and she smiled self-consciously, reminding herself that Lex had given her a key so she could use it.
Approaching the study she heard the piano playing a rather sloppy Schubert. It was unusual for 7:15 a.m. but not terribly so. Lex often didn’t sleep.
“Good morning, Lex.” She entered the room from a side entrance and found him sitting behind the piano looking exhausted. His face turned up to hers as she walked closer, and his expression was strange and drawn.
“Have you been up all night?”
She asked the question with the relative security of a girlfriend, moving around to stand beside him as she realized there was something wrong. He was sweaty and pale, dim panic gleaming in his eyes. His lips struggled to form words and finally came up with her name in a whisper.
“I’m here. What do you need?” She looked down and gasped. His fingers were bloody, yet he was still keeping up that endless repetition of music, the keys smearing with blood every time he touched them.
“Lex, what happened?”
He croaked out another painful word, still unable to stop moving his poor hands.
“Magic.”
The word frissioned down her neck and over her back like a feather on hot skin. It tickled uncomfortably and she felt the woman inside her head awaken.
Bespelled to play forever, it said. Doomed.
Chloe shook her head in denial. Not doomed if you help me. Help me. She searched her mind for the word, the spell to make him stop. Stop, that was it.
“Stop.”
He continued playing and she frowned. His eyes were rolled up to look at her, but Lex didn’t seem to be able to turn his head from the piano.
Not stop, the right word but not right. Latin, the witch in her head whispered, and she suddenly knew.
“Quietum.”
Lex felt the muscles of his arms still and he exhaled sharply. He had been stuck on the same composition for what had felt like days, unable to do anything but watch as his fingers went beyond bruised to tortured. The pain had been a sharp and queasy accompaniment to the loss of control and he had hated Lana in those hours.
His eyes closed as Chloe’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he found himself leaning into her weakly. His arms were too tired, but he embraced her with his nearness and breathed her in.
“Thank you.” Although he hadn’t noticed yet, Lex’s chin was nestled in her bared cleavage, and she was beginning to appreciate the slutty dress. His soft exhales warmed a patch of skin on her left breast, and the right one was jealous.
The strange voice in her head cackled and Chloe cringed at the sound. You have excellent taste, it told her. For a moment I was worried everyone in this colonial town chased after musclebound stable boys. But this one . . .
The voice purred and Chloe couldn’t help but agree. Lex was luxuriantly sensual in a way no one else would be capable of. She ran a hand over his smooth head and he sighed, rolling his neck back and forth.
Lex felt the wealth of bare skin for the first time and quirked an eyebrow. He opened his eyes to find a lot of Chloevage at the end of his nose.
“If that’s what you wore to your party I’m really sorry I missed it.”
She gave him a small laugh and pulled away. “I’m more worried about your hands. What happened?”
Lex looked at the swollen digits and tried to flex his cramping arm muscles. “Lana came by to get a bottle of wine for your birthday, but she wasn’t acting like herself. She saw the manuscript page and told me that the map wasn’t for me. Then she said something in Latin and made it disappear from the case. She told me to keep practicing forever and I just sat down at the piano and obeyed.”
Chloe dropped to her knees and helped him work out the kinks in his arms. She swore when she felt the spasms of exhausted muscles pushed beyond any limits. “So Lana has a witch in her head, too.”
She met his questioning glance. “Mine is named Madelyn, but I think we’re on pretty good terms. She finds you delicious.”
Disclaimer: Smallville, the characters therein, and all affiliated copyrighted materials are owned by the WB. This is a work of fanfiction not intended for profit or infringement, only for the pleasure of fans of the series.
Distribution: I have posted these stories and have control of them on this site. I don't want them to be posted anywhere else unless I'm the one posting them. Please take down my stories if you have them posted on another archive site. I understand I can't stop you from doing this but I hope by asking politely you'll respect my work and my wishes. If anyone has more comfort and convenience saving the text of a story to their own computer, I have no problem with that.
A/N: I write the Chlex scenes that never appear on Smallville for fear of making people happy with the show. So I was kind of delighted that it was Chloe’s 18th birthday, and a little intrigued that Witchy Lana couldn’t use her hair for the spell she was doing. I’m taking that to mean that Chloe is a card-carrying non virgin because she’s been boffing Lex three ways from Sunday for months.
(Logic gap, what logic gap? I don’t see it. Wait I’ll go closer. Ow, I fell in this huge plot hole. Stupid plot. I’ll get you.)
This is a smutty reinterpretation, PWP, because we all know Chloe didn’t want to watch Clark convulse and call it dancing for her birthday.
So, it’s Chloe who finds Lex playing the piano infinitas and she has to . . . ahem . . . save him.
Bespelled (1/2)
Chloe woke up with a jolt, pushing herself up on her elbows. She winced as her strange bed scratched her arms through the thin sweater she was wearing. Prying open her eyes she saw that she was in the Kents’ barn, on top of a bale of hay. Harsh, blinding sun was blaring in through the large windows and she let her head fall back down.
When her hangover allowed, Chloe tried to think of what had led her to sleep in a barn. True, it had once featured prominently in certain fantasies in her youthful attraction to a certain farm boy, but those fantasies had been replaced by better material and reality.
She felt someone move around restlessly next to her and hoped it was some kind of meteor freak.
If I’ve been drugged with those damn rocks again, I’m going to cut off every part of Clark Kent that touched me, she thought bitterly.
Looking down seemed like a better alternative than seeing who was lying beside her, and Chloe did so.
Ew, she thought, what was the theme of my birthday - Legal and Easy? And how long has it been since it was fashionable to wear a shrug? Goodness ladies, no need to give away all the mystery.
Chloe tried to readjust her dress to cover more than half of her breasts, but there wasn’t enough cloth to do so. Huffing a sigh, she sat up and prepared to face her sleeping companion. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and turned her head to the side, chanting a litany of hopes in her head.
Let it be Lex, let it be Lex, let it be Lex . . .
She opened her eyes enough to see brown hair and closed them again, shuddering.
Let it be Lois, let it be Lois, let it be Lois . . .
Chloe forced herself to look again and managed about three seconds before her eyes closed up in self-preservation. She fisted her hands in the hay and analyzed the picture in her head.
Long, brown hair, female, fully clothed. Lois or Lana or a complete stranger. Just not Clark.
Reenergized by the discovery, Chloe opened her eyes and looked around the barn. There were naked couples everywhere and she briefly wondered who had decided the surprise part of her surprise party should be finding out who you slept with the previous night. Probably Lois.
Standing up, she looked back at her bed, seeing that the person beside her had indeed been Lois. Shaking her head, Chloe walked to the open barn doors.
“The next time I throw an orgy I’m staying sober.”
She did a cursory check of all the passed out teenagers, but they all seemed to be physically fine. She would have written the whole thing off as a group bender except it was Clark Kent and friends throwing a party for her. No party he planned could possibly be so interesting.
Meteor rocks, she thought. Definitely.
Looking balefully down at her partially exposed breasts, Chloe considered a solution. The only one she could come up with was unfortunate, but at least she would get to see Lex. Maybe he would even lend her a shirt and spare her the indignity of going home looking like the slutty witch from Charmed.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++
Chloe used the service entrance in deference to the early hour, but she still met a few members of Lex’s staff. They bobbed their heads in the curious little nod that she associated with domestics, and she smiled self-consciously, reminding herself that Lex had given her a key so she could use it.
Approaching the study she heard the piano playing a rather sloppy Schubert. It was unusual for 7:15 a.m. but not terribly so. Lex often didn’t sleep.
“Good morning, Lex.” She entered the room from a side entrance and found him sitting behind the piano looking exhausted. His face turned up to hers as she walked closer, and his expression was strange and drawn.
“Have you been up all night?”
She asked the question with the relative security of a girlfriend, moving around to stand beside him as she realized there was something wrong. He was sweaty and pale, dim panic gleaming in his eyes. His lips struggled to form words and finally came up with her name in a whisper.
“I’m here. What do you need?” She looked down and gasped. His fingers were bloody, yet he was still keeping up that endless repetition of music, the keys smearing with blood every time he touched them.
“Lex, what happened?”
He croaked out another painful word, still unable to stop moving his poor hands.
“Magic.”
The word frissioned down her neck and over her back like a feather on hot skin. It tickled uncomfortably and she felt the woman inside her head awaken.
Bespelled to play forever, it said. Doomed.
Chloe shook her head in denial. Not doomed if you help me. Help me. She searched her mind for the word, the spell to make him stop. Stop, that was it.
“Stop.”
He continued playing and she frowned. His eyes were rolled up to look at her, but Lex didn’t seem to be able to turn his head from the piano.
Not stop, the right word but not right. Latin, the witch in her head whispered, and she suddenly knew.
“Quietum.”
Lex felt the muscles of his arms still and he exhaled sharply. He had been stuck on the same composition for what had felt like days, unable to do anything but watch as his fingers went beyond bruised to tortured. The pain had been a sharp and queasy accompaniment to the loss of control and he had hated Lana in those hours.
His eyes closed as Chloe’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he found himself leaning into her weakly. His arms were too tired, but he embraced her with his nearness and breathed her in.
“Thank you.” Although he hadn’t noticed yet, Lex’s chin was nestled in her bared cleavage, and she was beginning to appreciate the slutty dress. His soft exhales warmed a patch of skin on her left breast, and the right one was jealous.
The strange voice in her head cackled and Chloe cringed at the sound. You have excellent taste, it told her. For a moment I was worried everyone in this colonial town chased after musclebound stable boys. But this one . . .
The voice purred and Chloe couldn’t help but agree. Lex was luxuriantly sensual in a way no one else would be capable of. She ran a hand over his smooth head and he sighed, rolling his neck back and forth.
Lex felt the wealth of bare skin for the first time and quirked an eyebrow. He opened his eyes to find a lot of Chloevage at the end of his nose.
“If that’s what you wore to your party I’m really sorry I missed it.”
She gave him a small laugh and pulled away. “I’m more worried about your hands. What happened?”
Lex looked at the swollen digits and tried to flex his cramping arm muscles. “Lana came by to get a bottle of wine for your birthday, but she wasn’t acting like herself. She saw the manuscript page and told me that the map wasn’t for me. Then she said something in Latin and made it disappear from the case. She told me to keep practicing forever and I just sat down at the piano and obeyed.”
Chloe dropped to her knees and helped him work out the kinks in his arms. She swore when she felt the spasms of exhausted muscles pushed beyond any limits. “So Lana has a witch in her head, too.”
She met his questioning glance. “Mine is named Madelyn, but I think we’re on pretty good terms. She finds you delicious.”