#Lex Luthor x Reader

[ctrldoll]

What's more humanist than having a baby?

Pairing: Lex Luthor / F!Reader

Genre: Fluffy & Suggestive.

Give me a break—my days! Why does he have to look so good in YJ?! (ノ∀≦。)ノ

PEACE AND BLESSINGS TO YOU, MY LOVE! <3

Lex Luthor was bothered. 

He sat in his home office looking through paperwork for his latest project. Metropolis was still in its usual state, his company and illegal groundings ever stable.

Work had not been bothering him in ways that he was not accustomed to. This meant that he had no reason to be as bothered as he was.

But why has he been in a sour mood ever since he saw his wife entertain a baby while its parents discussed plans with him? She looked at it so lovingly, and ‘baby talk’ suddenly seemed like the smoothest language she had ever spoken.

The young being also seemed to share its affection for her as its sharp giggle spread around the room to Lex's cochlea, which budded his bother.

“Aw, she likes her already.” Said the woman he was discussing with, her smile on sight as she watched the charming display. “Little Grace’s already found a new friend. I'm so proud of her.” Lex was captivated as well. Being a witness to his wife's natural charm with children sent a familiar heat that spread over his skin and penetrated his bones and veins with a chill that bore deep into his heart.

“She’s a natural mother. She’ll do well with a child of her own.” The implication hadn't passed him, and a seed was planted. 

“You haven't been in a good mood in a bit, my love. Are you alright?” [Name] asked her husband as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders behind him. 

“Yeah, I am.” You weren't satisfied with his response. “Are you sure? Nothing about your business, Superman, etc.” You pressed on, wanting to be aware of his behavioural change. 

“Would you ever like to have children of our own at the moment, [Name]?” He spoke after a few moments of silence. The question made you pause for a moment, the cogs in your brain turning as it processed the sudden question. 

“Yes, I would.” Your voice strummed against the thin air, highlighting the change in the atmosphere. “What brought this on?” 

“I saw you with the Rayon child. You seemed so natural in your care for her. It made me feel odd.” Lex Luthor was a straightforward man; he didn't see a need to shift around.

“In what way?” Slightly startled, you asked, moving to stand before him. You felt pressure on your lower stomach and looked down to find Lex leaning on it as his hand gently wrapped around your waist.

“It made me want one of our own.” He confessed, lifting his gaze upon you, his green eyes gleaming towards your own—wait, was he pleading?

“I believe you would be an amazing mother, [Name]. Imagine it: a child with our genes, a creation of our making. Wouldn't that please you, [Name]? To finally have a little one who represents us?” You shook underneath the dimmed lights of the room, thoughts swirling as an indescribable want filled you. “I've been imagining them for some time now.” You confessed, admiring the slight curl your husband’s lips made. 

“With my hair or yours?” You giggled at that and lifted your hand to caress his cheek lovingly and felt his sculpted jawline underneath. “You know, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to see her turn out to be ginger.” “Who said it’d be a girl? I think my boy would have your eyes.” 

“Regardless of how they are, I’m going to love them so damn much. I can’t wait to embrace them all the time.” You sighed happily, settling yourself on Lex’s lap when he pulled you in. “Who says you have to wait any longer?” He purred in your ear, his left hand settling on your thighs, tracing circles on top of your skirt while his right neared its hidden zipper.

“Lex, you devil.”

“You know me, Darling. I’m quick.”

[afrowrites]

He was driving through Smallville when he saw you, your glowing brown skin and luscious lips working on some vanilla ice cream. Your blonde hair shining, and your wearing the cutest two piece pink halter miniskirt outfit, and some five inch wedges.

-Of course he went up to you and asked for your number.

-With a car that nice you thought he was the president. Or a celebrity after all he was dressed so well looming over you. He makes you feel small, almost like he sees right through you.

- “Well Mister,” “Luthor, Mr.Luthor.” he interrupts. “Well you seem nice, so sure I'll give you my number.” You smile sweetly, and his icy interior melts ever so slightly.

- Later while your at home chilling on your couch watching moesha, one of his many assistants calls you. “Ms. Y/N, Mr. Luthour left you a package,” You open your front porch to see a gorgeous expensive Dior box, “A car will be coming for you at eight o'clock.” And before you can even ask what is going on she hangs up.

-”How did he get my address”, you think to yourself as you eye the gorgeous red dress. It's like something out of mad men. A pretty halter dress that comes just below your knees. Paired with a beautiful set of gold jewelry.

-You look to the mirror one last time fixing your hair applying your lip gloss. His driver knocks on your door, “Hello Ms. Y/N are you ready?” He holds out his hand for you to take. He leads you to a gorgeous Rolls Royce.

-You silently scream in the car on your way to a mystery restaurant in metropolis.

-You make your way into a swanky art deco inspired restaurant, “Your Pinterest,is very revealing.” You felt his warm breath on your neck.

-”Oh that's a little invasive,” you nervously chuckle. He waves it off and leads you to a booth. You get comfortable and you strike up conversation.

-”You know as first dates go, this one is going… interestingly,” “My darling, I want it to be spectacular.”

Your face heats up, and he takes notice.

-He starts to explain the very sudden interest “You know I am sorry, it's just when I see something as beautiful as you I have to study them,” he starts closing in the gap between you to whisper in your ear. “Closer”

-He sends chills down your spine, and you continue with dinner. You make him laugh all throughout the night. He rests his hands on yours and you feel warm.

-Later as you both make your way out of the restaurant, you start to raise your hand to hail a cab.

-”Now you didn't think I would just leave you here?” He motions to his car. As you both sit next to each other you feel his eyes on you, he looks like he is hungry and you're the only thing to satisfy him for miles.

-”I'm going to kiss you, please let me know if my feelings are mistaken.” You nod no. “I need to hear you.” “Oh please kiss me.”

-He hooks his hand under your chin and softly plants a kiss on your soft lips, he tastes like spearmint and ice.

-Because your previous dates ended up with someone wanting something from you after the date, your hand slowly travels down to his button. However he gently grabs your wrist.

-”Mm, darling while I would so enjoy that i’d like to take my time with you~”

[lycheeloving]

Why is there almost no Lex Luthor content... I saw him in Young Justice and immediately got inspired lol

Anyways, here's a yandere!Lex Luthor fic, with Superman and Batman trying to rescue you, but do they have good intentions? 👀 (gender neutral reader ofc)

Warnings for mind controlling/altering devices & substances ✌️ and general yandere stuff ofc

You're not the biggest fan of big events with many people, but with Lex at your side, you find you don't really mind anything, even the gala you're currently at.

Holding his hand, you happily watch him as he talks to rich people you couldn't care less about, when he turns to look at you.

You perk up as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You try to lean into it, but he pulls away too fast for your liking. At least you catch a whiff of his scent, he always smells so good...

"Be a doll and get yourself a drink at the bar, would you?"

Ah.

That's code for "we're going to talk about confidential business stuff". Sure. You can spend some time away from him, even if it makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. You'll do it for him!

You silently nod, reluctantly let go of his hand and start making your way across the room towards the bar.

As you're leaving, you make out the word "Justice League". They have been giving him trouble recently, is that what their conversation is about? You can never remember what exactly their issue is with him... He's just a CEO!

Unfortunately the bar is out of earshot, so you can't keep listening, which is exactly why he sent you away in the first place, but you sit on a stool from which you can still easily see him.

He always says that you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about his boring business stuff, so you don't, but he always looks so good when talking about it! So serious and in charge...

After ordering a fun looking cocktail you sigh, already missing him.

You didn't use to like alcohol, but everything tastes better now that you know him, so you indulge in the occasional drink.

You catch yourself staring at Lex. Maybe you shouldn't look at him this much? What if people think he's weird for dating someone who's this obsessed with him? You don't want that for him, he has so much to deal with already... Swishing your drink around, you try to tear your eyes away from him.

You sigh again.

Somebody slides onto the stool next to you and orders a fancy sounding drink. He turns to you.

"Are you ok? I could hear you sighing from across the room."

"I'm fine... I just miss my boyfriend." You hold back another sigh and absentmindedly trace the rim of your glass.

"Oh, so you came here alone?"

"No, he's over there." You subtly point at him. "He's just talking about some important business stuff without me right now."

"Lex Luthor?" He pulls a face as you nod.

"So you're..." He says your name. Apparently people know you! Huh. You hadn't realized.

"I'm Bruce Wayne, by the way."

Now that he mentions it, you don't know how you didn't notice it before. He is quite famous. You probably should have recognized him, but you were too distracted by how dreamy Lex looks...

"What are you doing with him? I mean, he's not known for being fun. Or kind."

He sounds like he's joking, but you don't think it's funny. Your face turns serious.

"You must not know him very well, then."

He holds up his hands in defense. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything. Or him, I guess..." He trails off.

Changing the topic with a grin, he says: "I'm guessing that means I don't have a chance with you?"

You shake your head. He can't be serious.

"...What if I shave my head? Would you consider leaving Luthor for me if I was bald?"

You crack a little smile at that. But your answer remains the same.

"No, I wouldn't leave my Lexie for anyone."

His eyes widen. "Oh, wow, so your relationship is pretty serious, then?"

Why would he even ask that?

"Of course it's serious, I love him!"

He pauses for a moment, seemingly contemplating something.

"...and does he love you?"

You gently touch the spot where Lex last pressed a kiss to your face and look in his direction, only to find he's already looking right back at you. You smile.

"He does." You're sure of it.

Bruce gets up from his chair as Lex starts making his way towards you. "Well, it's been fun, but I'm going to go find someone I actually have a chance with." And avoid a confrontation with Lex.

He winks at you. "Bye!"

You don't say anything back as he leaves, because you're too busy looking at Lex, who's now standing right in front of you. He puts his hands on the bar behind you, caging you in with his arms.

"What did Wayne want from you?"

"Oh, I don't know, nothing important." Already distracted, you reach up to play with his tie.

He raises an eyebrow. "Were you not paying attention to him? Good. Can't have you leaving me for him."

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, even though you know he's just teasing you.

You would never! He smirks as if he can read your mind.

"Well, I have some more business to attend to. I have informed our driver that he is to take you home whenever you wish, while I will be returning to the office."

You pout at him. "I know your work is important, but please don't take too long. I'll miss you..."

He smirks. "I know, darling. I will hurry back to you."

The kiss he presses to your lips is eagerly reciprocated by you, before he gently pulls your hand away from his tie and goes back to the people he was talking to earlier, vanishing through the door.

No reason to stay here now that he's gone, right? You finish your drink and leave the building, but as you turn to look for your driver, you bump into someone.

You go to apologize, but the other guy is faster.

"Sorry! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

His eyes widen and he straightens his glasses.

"Wait! You're Lex Luthors significant other, right?"

You nod with a smile. How lovely that this is what people know you as!

"I'm Clark Kent, with the Daily Planet. I've been meaning to talk to you about-"

Your smile vanishes. "No comment."

Lex told you that no matter what you say, reporters twist it in a way that makes you look bad, and that it's best not to engage.

He seems a bit disappointed at your quick response. "That's fair. But off the record, can I just ask how you met him? As far as I know, you weren't a part of these circles before you showed up on his arm one day."

"Off record?"

He nods.

You think you can trust him, at least with some of it.

"We met at my workplace. I used to be a barista."

Not knowing how to make it sound nice, you leave out the part where you thought he was rude to your coworker and reprimanded him, and how you only grudgingly agreed to go on a date with him because he cornered you after work and threatened to get your coworker fired if you refused.

But it was all a big misunderstanding! During that first date you realized that you really like him and that he's a really good guy!

He just didn't know how else you'd agree to go out with him after you were so angry at the beginning!

"So it was love at first sight?" Kent questions.

"Not first sight, maybe, but I knew he was the one during our first date. It just... felt so right."

Lex, of course, did know at first sight, but he's always been smarter than you, so it's not a surprise that he caught on more quickly.

"Well, thanks for the conversation. I'm going to find someone I can actually interview now, so my boss doesn't get too mad at me. Bye!"

He stumbles towards the building, bumping into someone else. What a clumsy guy! You catch him looking at you again before he enters through the door.

You finally make your way to the driver and get into the limo, driving home in silence.

Time for a lonely night without Lex...

After you get home and get ready for bed, you put on one of his shirts and go to sleep on his side of the bed.

That way you'll definitely wake up when he returns, because he refuses to sleep on your side. He'll have to get you out of the way somehow, probably pick you up...

Burying your face in his pillow where his scent is the strongest, you fall asleep.

A noise from the direction of Lex's home office wakes you up.

You're still on his side of the bed. Did he come home and keep working? Seriously? Maybe he'll let you sit in his lap while he finishes whatever he's doing...

Quietly walking towards his room, you hear low voices. Is Lex on a call? In the middle of the night?

As you make it to the entrance, you can finally make out words. It's not Lex.

"-only let you come because you said you could be stealthy. If I knew you'd be this loud, I would have come here alone."

You sneak a look around the door. Is that Batman? And-

"This is my city, and I know Luthor better than anyone, that's why I came along. Besides, I didn't make that much noise!"

-Superman!

You take a step back. Where is the button that alarms security again...? Next to the bed, right? You start making your way back to the bedroom, but...

"We have company."

You're almost at the button, try to start running towards it, but Superman is in front of you before you can blink. Shit.

"Sorry, can't let you inform anyone that we're here, we still haven't gotten everything we came for!"

He actually looks apologetic. What is wrong with him? Breaking into your home, but pretending to feel bad about it?

He holds onto both of your arms and leads you back into the office, where Batman is tinkering with Lex's computer. What could they be looking for?

"Well, if you're here already, we might as well ask you directly. What do you know about Luthor's mind-controlling technology?" Batman asks you.

Mind-controlling? What would Lex need that for?

"I- I think you've got the wrong person. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"People who usually would never cooperate with Luthor have started working for him, so I got suspicious. After some research I was able to figure out that he uses microchips to control them. But we haven't been able to figure out how to extract them without causing damage to the person they've been installed in."

Batman takes a step towards you.

"So I'll ask one more time. What do you know?"

You really have no idea what he's talking about.

"Wh- What would Lex even use that for? I don't understand!"

"Batman, are you sure they know anything? We're already 99% sure there's a chip inside of them as well, maybe one of its effects is not remembering anything about the chips?"

"It was worth a try." Batman turns to look at Superman. "I assume this means you haven't checked for a chip yet? Make yourself useful and use your x-ray vision."

"Oh, right! Right..." Superman mumbles. "No need to be rude about it."

He focuses his gaze on you. It's pretty unnerving, knowing he's looking inside of you. There's nothing you could hide from him, nothing you could do to make him stop looking at you. You hope he's really only looking inside of you...

After looking at you for too long for comfort, he chimes up: "Yep, there's a chip! Right in the shoulder."

Of course there's a chip in your shoulder, but that doesn't mean you're being controlled!

"That's just a tracker! Lex put it there in case I'm ever kidnapped or something, so he'll immediately know where I am!"

"...You let him put a tracker in you? Voluntarily?" Superman seems confused.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?" You're confused as well. Why wouldn't you let him? He did it because he loves you! To take care of you!

Batman doesn't seem to care, only humming in acknowledgement and going back to fiddling with the computer.

That reminds you that Lex put another gadget on you...

Your necklace (beautiful, expensive, and of the letters "LL") sends him a discreet emergency signal as soon as you take it off! You just need to be able to reach it...

"Um... Superman?" You crane your neck to look up at him.

"Do you have to hold onto me like that? I mean, just, what could I do to get away, right?"

You look up at him and try to look as confused and innocent as possible.

You glance at Batman. He seems to not be interested in your conversation at all, instead focusing on the computer. Good.

"You're fast enough to immediately catch me, before I could even take a tiny step! Just- This position is kind of awkward to be in, right?"

Please fall for it, please fall for it...

"Sure, you've been pretty cooperative so far, I don't think we have anything to worry about with you..."

He chuckles, almost embarrassed, then reluctantly lets go of his hold on your arms, flexing his hands.

Holy shit. It worked.

"Nice, thanks!" You smile. What an idiot.

Now you just have to play it cool...

Act natural and normal and not like you're up to anything...

You reach up to rub your neck, as if having turned it to look up at Superman strained it.

Well, it did, but you're mostly doing it to get your hands near the necklace. And now you just have to-

The necklace opens with a quiet click, followed by an alarm sounding from the computer.

Right. You forgot it sends a signal to all of Lex's technology, including the computer in this room. Oops.

Oh well, doesn't really make a difference if they're aware that you alarmed Lex or not. What could they do about it now?

Both Superman's and Batman's heads snap towards you. You smile. Lex should be on his way now.

"Superman, why would you let go of-" Batman cuts himself off. "Doesn't matter. I have the information we came here for. Let's go."

"Are we just going to leave them here?" Superman sounds concerned.

Batman walks towards you, holding something up to your face. "No."

It smells weird, what is that? You feel dizzy, try to pull your head away from it, but Batman is holding onto you, you can't move.

Then, everything goes black.

You wake up on a bed in a bright, unfamiliar room with an ache in your shoulder.

There's a bandage in the spot where your tracker is. Or, used to be, you assume.

Rude of them, to dig around in your body without your permission.

Lex will freak out when he hears about this. He must be looking for you already.

What is this, some kind of infirmary? Where exactly are you?

Just when you decide to get up and try to leave or find out more about where you are, Superman enters the room.

"Oh, you're awake!" He gently pushes you to lie back down. You don't object, you know how strong he is, even if he is being careful right now.

"You shouldn't get up yet, your body should still be adjusting to the chip being gone."

He looks at you with curiosity. Or with hope? You can't quite tell what his expression means.

"Which, by the way, do you feel any different? About Luthor? Any memories popping up that you couldn't remember before?"

Now that he mentions it, some of your time with Lex seems... clearer. You suddenly remember the whole chip thing. And that he's constantly trying to fight (and kill) Superman and the rest of the Justice League. And a bunch of immoral business choices. And villain stuff.

But you still love him.

"I don't feel any different."

Lex must have had a good reason to block those memories from your mind.

Maybe it was for exactly this scenario, so that if the Justice League kidnapped you, you wouldn't be able to tell them anything! Unfortunately they were able to restore those memories, but that doesn't mean that you have to tell them that and make it easier for them!

Superman looks disappointed. "Oh... That's unfortunate."

Why does he seem to be so invested in this? Just because he hates Lex? What does he care if Lex is in a relationship, that shouldn't concern him at all!

"So can I go now?" You throw your legs over the side of the bed and sit up again.

"I mean, now that you know that I wasn't influenced by that chip? You can't keep me here, that would be kidnapping!"

It already is kidnapping, technically.

"Sorry, I can't let you leave." He doesn't look super apologetic about this.

"Batman is still working on something."

"I'm done working on it, actually," Batman responds.

Wait, when did Batman get here? You didn't hear him enter the room...

Superman perks up. "And did you find anything?"

"I did." Batman turns to you, his expression even more serious than usual.

"Blood tests revealed that you are affected by a toxin that messes with your pheromones. After digging through more information on Luthors computer, I was able to find correspondence between him and Poison Ivy. Apparently they made a concoction that is specific to your dna, meaning only you are affected by it, and it causes you to be attracted to him alone. He must have used it as an aftershave or perfume, but it seems pretty long lasting. The effects should last up to a month after exposure."

No. That can't be true.

"You're lying. Lex wouldn't do that. He had no reason to do that, I love him!"

Batman ignores you. "Luckily I was able to synthesize an antidote. Hold still."

You don't hold still, of course, trying to scramble off of the bed, but Superman holds onto you.

"Shhhh, calm down. You'll feel better soon," he whispers, his mouth unnervingly close to your ear.

Batman gets closer to you with a syringe, preparing to inject you with a green liquid.

"This is going to hurt."

"Wait!" you try to protest, but-

-you feel the syringe enter your skin, and then you feel pain. In your entire body.

It hurts! Why does it hurt so much!

You squirm in Superman's grip. Your head feels like it's going to explode.

There's nothing but pain for a few seconds that feel like eternity.

But then- nothing.

You feel nothing. No pain. And-

"Holy shit." You blink.

"Holy SHIT."

What did that fucker do to you?

"I was in a relationship with Lex Luthor? Why did nobody stop me! What is wrong with everyone!"

You blink again.

"I mean, I guess you stopped me. So... thank you?"

Superman lets go of you, seemingly content that you've come to your senses.

Batman seems to be holding back a smirk.

You're not done processing everything yet.

"Why would he-"

You forget what you were going to say and gasp, distracted by a new thought.

"Wait, what the fuck am I going to do now! Where can I go? I moved in with him and he made me break off contact with all of my friends! I don't have an apartment anymore or friends to stay with!"

You look at the two heroes. "D- Do you think he'll look for me? Probably, right? I mean, we were going to get married."

You feel sick.

"Wait, is an engagement legally binding? Fuck. Can I just leave? We didn't make it public yet, but that doesn't make a difference, right? Fuck!"

Superman puts his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll take care of all of that. We won't allow him anywhere near you ever again."

Batman adds on: "And you can stay in the Watchtower for now. That's the safest place for you. He won't manage to get in here."

You frown. "Are you sure that's ok? I don't want to be a burden..."

Superman's smile gets wider, it's almost creepy.

Batman moves closer to you, putting his hand on your other shoulder. You're starting to feel a bit smothered.

"We'll gladly take care of you. For however long it takes."

You wonder if that means forever.

[universalfanfic]

Chapter 26

There was an uncomfortable air that lingered in the manor after they found Peyton’s room trashed. She remained in the bedroom near Lex’s even after her original room was cleaned up. Mostly cleaned up. It was difficult to get the paint off the walls.  She didn’t believe ghosts used paint. But the idea that it wasn’t a ghost still didn’t make her feel safe, and she didn’t understand how someone could have gotten in and out without being caught. How had they gotten the door to rattle or the light to shine without being inside? Why did they target her specifically? There were so many issues to worry about, Peyton wasn’t sure how to prioritize them. Everything seemed important; everything felt like it should take prominence. And everything felt like it needed to be handled and figured out before it would fit and make sense with everything else. 

ffn

ao3

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][friends to more?][porn mention][hr violations][bald jokes][asmr][brief oral (f! receiving)][fingering][semi public][workplace rendezvous]

"My job is done, I'm not doing anything wrong."

"You. Are watching porn in the workplace. That, alone, is a violation of so many HR codes."

The sigh that leaves perfectly plump lips is something that you can never get tired of, thick muscular fingers pinch the bridge of a strong nose and Lex let's out the kind of breath that you can only accompany with a man far too tired to deal with bullshit.

"Was I masturbating?" You question. "Because if I was masturbating, then it's an HR violation. And besides, it's not like I called anyone to my desk, now did I?"

Lex stares down at you, juniper gaze narrowing with annoyance at the way you keep bickering with him, arms crossed over your chest, your expression the very image of unbothered and right.

This is why Lex doesn't hire friends.

You and Lex go way back. Shared classes, science partners and the best of friends, but right now, he really wants to break that computer over your head. And Lex takes a deep breath, blowing it out through his nose.

"I can't believe I'm doing this but you're getting a porn blocker." Lex states.

"You can't make me do anything, Agent 47."

"Yes I can. I'm your boss and you get paid to do what I say."

You stare up at Lex, lips tugging downwards into a frown, and you let out a huff, manicured nails flying across the keyboard as you continue to download a porn blocker.

"Ever since you lost your hair, you switched up." You mutter and Lex groans.

"You're using company resources, to watch porn." Lex grumbles, a muscular hand dragging across his features before he stares down at the loading screen on your computer, and he sighs.

And he takes the time to look at your desk.

To take a really, really thorough look.

A monitor decorated with penguin-shaped sticky notes with important dates, numbers and details, a cup full of various gel pens that he just knows you stole from him when you two went stationery shopping, one of those aesthetic keyboards that sound, as you would put it, 'creamy', with rounded keys and satisfying clacks. And his attention moves to the pretty, bear-shaped frame on your desk. Cartoonish eyes with a picture being in the belly of the beast.

Lex doesn't have to look too long to know it's a picture from when you attended his graduation. The gleaming smile on your face is one he looks back on frequently, the way your glossy lips curled, the way you cheered so loudly because you truly, truly had faith that he'd make something of himself.

And without a thought, a second of hesitance even, Lex's hand cups your chin and he presses a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, strands of hair pressing against his lips before he lets out a hum.

It's a sweet action. A silent appreciation for that fact that you've stuck around this long, that you've been his rock in times of adversity and evilness.

"I'm gonna go get our lunch." Lex states softly. "Grilled cheese okay?"

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

"Big back, big back."

Lex ignores the way you taunt him, your voice an annoying sing-song as he takes a bite of his third grilled cheese sandwich, grease and stringy cheese on his lips before he licks the mess away, staring at you from beneath furrowed brows.

"Says the one who put away two sandwiches, as well as a tub of ice cream. Worry about your waistline." Lex insults with a huff.

"Worry about your hair. Out here, looking like One Punch Man's wide-eyed cousin."

Lex snorts, a fisted hand coming to cover his mouth as his broad shoulders shake with a mixture of laughter and coughing, the snowy fabric of his shirt straining against the muscle of his torso, crimson tie discarded somewhere and he stares at you, silvery eyes twinkling.

"Say what you want but I'm sexy regardless." Lex boasts, taking another bite of his sandwich and he chews, waiting for the quip that'll come after you stop that insipid and obnoxious slurping of your coffee.

He likes having lunches with you. The easiness of talking, the unpracticed habits that he allows himself to slip back into. The way you're so... Unashamedly yourself, even though you really should be.

It's a pleasant break from the circles he's found himself running in and Lex runs his tongue across his teeth, resting back in his desk chair.

"I'm waiting for the insult." Lex reminds you teasingly, dimpled cheeks rising into a grin that makes your palms the tiniest bit sweatier but you ignore the feeling that seems to bloom in your lower belly whenever Lex smiles.

"I'm trying to think of bald characters. Instead of just calling you the default businessman LEGO." You hum, reaching towards Lex's fourth sandwich, peeling back the parchment and taking a bite.

"You glutton. You said you only wanted two sandwiches." Lex's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching with annoyance as he watches your teeth tear away piece after piece of his sandwich.

And you continue to munch, simply staring at Lex with an expression that says there's not a single thought behind your pretty, doe eyes. Long lashes flutter as you lick the cheese from your bottom lip, and you take a sip of your coffee.

"Your hatred makes the sandwich taste better." You murmur, taking another bite.

"I hope it tastes amazing because I'm praying you choke."

"You don't even believe in God."

"I'll start believing if you choke. Fuck, I'll even build a church right now."

You stare at Lex blankly.

"You bald-headed demon."

"I might be bald but my hairline isn't crooked."

"You don't even have a hairline!"

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🐀་༘

It's relatively late when you finish your own work, slumped in your seat as you continue to log reports, scheduling Lex's extensive meetings ahead of time so that you at least have a bit of leisure time during the next week. Your manicured fingers type so gently, enjoying each individual click of the creamy keys, soft pastel coloured beneath your fingers.

And Lex's footsteps aren't heavy at all, soft pads of his socks on the carpeted floors of your joint office and he hums.

"You'd work a lot faster if you weren't obsessed with that ASMR bullshit."

Dropping into the seat beside you, Lex manspreads. Thick thighs causing the tailored fabric to stran across the sinewy muscles, his body slumped and he just looks so much bigger in the dim lighting of the abandoned office. His tie's discarded, the same as his jacket and his shoes, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and exposing muscular, veiny forearms and the silver wristwatch glitters.

"ASMR isn't bullshit." You frown. "It's tingly."

You spin your desk chair to face Lex, his elbows braced on the armrests and he stares at you, a perfect brow raised when he notices that expression on your face.

Like you're planning to prove him wrong.

And he limply raises his hands.

"Tingle me."

Lex spends about 15 minutes in the seat, his eyes closed as you trail your feathery pens across his face, the satisfying tap of your manicured nails (that he paid for) is something that he can't lie and say he hates. The way you trace over his features, the soft whisper of your voice as you whisper the most random shit and the way your breath fans across his face.

The corners of his mouth twitches, but you made him keep a straight face, and Lex's tongue traces over his bottom lip.

"And this shit helps you sleep?" Lex questions and you hum softly. "It'd sound better if I had my ASMR-y stuff."

Lex let's out a hum, his hands grasping the edges of his armrests before sighing.

"You know, it's not really getting to me. Maybe you should move—" Lex's hands bracket your hips and he pulls you onto his lap with ease, your thighs spreading to accomodate his sculpted legs. And Lex shifts a bit.

"That's better."

You go quite, lips pursed before you continue to trace his features with yet another puffball pen, soft faux fur tickling his features and you sigh softly.

"Not you trying to cop a feel."

And Lex's retort is instant.

"Not you letting me."

There's a silence that stretches almost uncomfortably between the two of you, your eyes locked on his for what could be considered an intimate moment of time, his thumbs brushing along the skin of your hips where your shirt was untucked. And Lex's gaze flits to your lips.

Full, perfect, rosy and soft. He's seen you walk around with Vaseline and an assortment of lipbalms like it's your religion, so he's not too surprised by the fact that they're literally perfect.

And you swallow.

And Lex swallows.

"Two best friends in a desolate office, they mi—"

Lex's lips are crashing against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you higher onto his lap, and you find yourself sitting atop a bulge that definitely wasn't there earlier on. Your arms encircle his neck, and Lex deepens the kiss, his head tilted up towards yours.

His lips press against yours in a way you've never felt before, shaky breaths and your fingers opt to sink into the hair at the nape of Lex's neck but your fingers keep slipping.

And Lex groans.

"Rub my thoughts."

And you pull away from the kiss, brows furrowed and lips tugged into a frown.

"Why would you say that?" You question, the corners of your lips threaten to curl upwards because you have to admit, that was funny.

"I thought I'd better say something before you did." Lex murmurs, a coy grin on his lips as he stares up at you, emerald gaze twinkling in the way you can only compare to the reflection of moonlit branches dancing on the surface of the a still body of water. And his tongue brushes across his teeth, coming to a stop at his canine.

"How women want you, I'll never understand."

That's a lie. You definitely understand.

Unless it's personality. Then it's a little trickier.

"It's because of my luscious locks."

Pffft.

The laugh that tumbles from your lips is as melodious as it is messy. Snorts and wheezes, your nails digging into the fat, meaty flesh of his bicep and Lex can only soak in the warmth of your body as he makes you laugh.

Before he hums.

"I'm just kidding. It's because I've got a huge dick."

You gasp.

"I wanna see."

Lex simply let's out a little sigh, amused as muscular digits undo the loop of his belt, leather snapping with each rough tug and you snicker.

"I'm gonna see the autumn trail." You boast, your palms rubbing together in the way that Lex can only compare to the sneakiness of a fly with a plan in mind.

"Prepare..." Lex lifts the edge of his shirt, as well as the waistband of his boxers, "for nothing!"

Not a single strand in sight.

"Looking like Jada Pinkett Smith." You murmur softly. "Alo-Peter."

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪩་༘࿐

"Lex, this—... This isn't what I meant..."

Your voice is a meek whisper, brows furrowed as Lex's fingers continue to stroke along the gummy walls of your cunt, the cool rings on his index and middle finger kiss either side of your slit with each gentle pump, his pudgy thumb nestled between your folds, circling your clit in that way that makes your toes curl with how oddly nice he's being about it.

Pulling sweet mewls from your plush lips, his body occupying your seat while you're perched on your desk, forced to be mindful of your monitor and keyboard.

"Shhhh." Lex's free hand moves to undo the buttons of your shirt, silver accessories glittering so prettily in the dim light. "Listen to my kind of ASMR."

And you remain quiet.

Listening to the lewd squelch of your cunt each time his fingertips press against that gooey spot, your toes curl in your hosiery and you find yourself focused on Lex's expression. So easy, a grin on his face like he's accomplished something.

Like he's cracked a puzzle that no one's ever cracked before.

And you need to ruin it. You have no idea why.

"You're one of many." You lie, but the way Lex's expression falls makes it worth it. Brows furrow and eyes narrow before he shifts closer.

"Can't you let me have anything?" He huffs in frustration.

"I physically cannot. It ails me to gift you things." Your lashes flutter, nails scratching along the wood of your desk and Lex let's out a huff.

"Shut up."

Lex's head dips between your thighs, muscular hands forcing your legs further apart to accomodate the width of his shoulders, and his tongue drags through your folds and it feels so...

Orgasmic until there's an abrupt shift in light.

And you meet Mercy's unwavering stare.

And she takes a deep breath.

"I'm taking my vacation days."

Taglist:

@lucky-beheaded 🌻

@anesthesia-4rizzle 🎀

@starski 🌃

@5lxt4u 🎻

@pariahsparadise 🏝️

@ilove-nsfw 🖇️

@titchx0 🦆

@feral010 ✨

@blckbarbiedoll 🌷

@custardpuddingprincess ⭐

@allycat4458 🪻

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch 🦄

@theamazkngskye 🍄

[arjudy224]

The Billionaire Boys Club

Batfamily x PhD student reader

(This takes place around 6 years after the Intern. )

The Intern Collection

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern Field Trip

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

After interning in her hometown, Y/N was recruited to do her master's degree fully funded by Lexcorp. She had developed an attraction over the 3 years working with Lex Luthor, yet his controlling behavior led to Superman warning Y/N about the CEO's affections. Her master's thesis was on the environmental impacts of Kryptonite use and storage.

Gotham City's explosive tonight. The annual environmental gala has somehow brought fresh life into the sallow streets.

The gala's decorator deserves a raise. Lush vines descend from the high ceiling wrapping around the pillars. I narrow my eyes. Are those real carrier pigeons? Every flower from any climate you could possibly imagine flood the walls in a sweet cascade of fragrance. The sweet aroma tethers me to the present. Dick and Tim give me sly smiles from across the ballroom. Stumbling past the walls of plants, Bruce gives me a thumbs up.

"You clean up nice."

I give him a small smile before glancing down at my Wayne sponsored garb. The long satin dress hugs my hips in an almost risque manner. A respectable slit begins at my mid thigh showing off my red and black pumps. I grimace at the unknown cost.

"You know you didn't have to go all Pretty Woman on me Mr. Wayne." I joke smoothing out my silk gloves, "I do have a paycheck."

Bruce smiles. It takes me off guard. A real smile with squinted eyes and smile lines. As goofy as the most attractive man in the room can be. Compared to his work persona, it's nice to see.

"Ms. L/N, I would never ask you to spend your money to play dress up for a gala I invited you to."

I nod not knowing what else to say. An entire styling team showed up at my door this morning with rack of dresses to choose from... and the shoes... well let's just say it would have made Cinderella run back home and demand to know why she couldn't have gotten Bruce Wayne as her Godmother.

His eyes gravitate to the pendant draped across my neck. A sting of pain registers on his face. I shift uncomfortably once he starts to stare. At my discomfort, Mr. Wayne apologizes.

"I'm sorry Ms. L/N. I haven't seen that necklace in a very long time."

I raise an eyebrow. Mr. Wayne never divulges this much personal information.

"Old flame?" I joke wiggling my eyebrows.

He shakes his head with a pained smile.

"That was my Mother's necklace."

My eyes widen. Martha Wayne's necklace. Instinctively, I reach to take it off. I already couldn't afford a ruby necklace, but a Wayne family heirloom? Hell no.

"I can take it off if you-" I start reaching for the clasp.

Mr. Wayne stops me in my tracks.

"Don't worry about it. That was a long time ago. "

I still hesitate. I glance awkwardly around the ballroom.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Mr. Wayne weighs carefully, "Besides, it might make for an interesting headline."

I scowl.

"I'm not going to like this am I?"

A devilish grin appears in response to my dismay.

"Welcome back to Gotham Ms. L/N."

Bruce's sons materialize a few seconds later. If I wasn't used to them suddenly appearing in my office, I would have shrieked.

"Tim. Dick." I greet with a nod, "Always a pleasure."

The younger boy looks at me like I am a puzzle piece he can't quite figure out where to put yet. Dick is as charming as ever.

"Y/N, I can't believe Bruce roped you into being his date. Have you ever considered unionizing?" He teases with a grin.

"At least, I'm getting paid to be here. What's your excuse?" I tease lightly hitting his shoulder. "Don't you have a hot date tonight Bludhaven?"

A painfully familiar shadow interrupts the conversation.

"Mr. Luthor."

Turning around, my legs begin to shake. What a wonderful... surprise. Lex nods to the three men before setting his sights on me.

"Mr. Luthor,"

Saying his formal title feels wrong, yet calling him Lex wouldn't be right either. Not after everything that has happened. Timothy's analytical gaze burns my peripheral.

"Ms. L/N, would you join me for a dance?"

I hesitate eyeing the audience that is forming. Extending his hand, Lex continues, "For old times sake?"

Three people stopped talking to gawk. I don't have much of a choice. With the amount of gossip mongrels here tonight, if I say no my face will be plastered on every gossip column in Gotham... If I say yes, well at least it will only be in Metropolis Gossip columns. I don't have much of a choice.

"Of course... Mr. Luthor." I agree through gritted teeth letting him drag me onto the dance floor.

If I thought agreeing to a waltz would quell speculation, I was poorly mistaken. Dozens of eyes follow our every movement including my boss's.

"You are only feeding into their curiosity." Lex whispers in my ear, "Those vultures know when you are weak."

"Is that what I am?" I question finally looking into his green eyes, "No need for flattery Alexander."

"There isn't any other way to explain your disappearance."

"-That's not fair."

The fire in his eyes leaves me speechless. This was not how I planned to spend my Saturday evening. For a moment, I fantasize on how this night could have gone. I could have had an early night enjoying take out... exchanged my favorite book with the cute guy next door. Slept in. Instead, I am bickering with a man who could be my Uncle over the fact I didn't take a job offer...and potentially start a relationship with him.

"Okay, so I cut you off." I start, "I'm sorry I hurt you, but things couldn't keep progressing like that. My project ended. It was time for me to go."

...and Superman told me that you started tracking my whereabouts... along with bugging my apartment... Go to therapy.

Lex shakes his head.

1, 2, 3

1, 2, 3

1, 2, 3

"You were offered a complete stipend. A guaranteed job offer. Why would you turn that down?"

My lips press together into a fine line.

1, 2, 3

1, 2, 3

1, 2, 3

The orchestra roars into a crescendo. The dance speeds up.

"You know why...." I hiss trying to keep up with his increasing tempo.

I've never been good at multitasking.

1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3-

"-Say it," Lex demands gripping my fingers tighter, "Tell me."

The ring on his left hand gets caught on my gloves tearing the beautiful silk right down the center. The radiant green draws my attention. Kryptonite. After all this time, he still wears it. Rage causes my face to go hot. I stop dancing to grab his ring.

"This is why Lex," I snarl, "Because I am sick of watching you destroy yourself. You've read my research."

A smart ass grin stretches across his face. The onlookers exchange curious glances at our lack of dancing.

"I paid for it." He replies smugly.

"Then you should know how ludicrous this behavior is. You are going to die before you win."

His eyes get sharp. I must have hit a nerve. A vein in his forehead grows prominent. Another couple dances past us. Lex tears me out of the way before I get bulldozed. A few beats later, we are back in the dance. His hands grow tight around mine like he's afraid I might disappear again. My knuckles turn white from the pressure, but I won't give him what he wants. Pain laces up my palms.

"So, you would rather waste your career working for a halfwit like Bruce Wayne?"

I freeze for a second. This is what this is really about. Lex is jealous that I chose to work for Bruce. If it was anybody else, he could convince himself that I was downgrading, but I went to his direct competition. Thinking of the conversation I had with Bruce earlier, when nobody else is around Bruce has a strange intelligence in his mannerisms. In public, he had initially joked about not reading my research, yet once we were alone the intensity of his questions made me nervous. Considering his extracurricular activities, it's unsurprising that he would want to keep his persona lowkey. How did my job search end with watching the boys club battle it out?

"I will only say this once: My life is mine. What I choose to do is my decision. Say what you want about Mr. Wayne, but at least he respects my privacy." I growl ripping my hands out of his grasp. "Have a nice day Mr. Luthor."

Storming past the "Garden of Eden" display, I slam open the double doors. God.... Everyone there probably thinks I slept with him.

Tag List: @jjsmeowthie

[weebsinstash]

I haven't posted about it in ages but I still think CONSTANTLY about a soulmate scenario between a reluctant Reader and a yandere Lex Luthor because... he's just such an intelligent and powerful man that, like girlypop, he could genuinely make or break your entire fucking life in a laundry list of ways

Things like... in the very very very beginning, when you've met him and he knows you're soulmates but you're still putting him off and rejecting him, you see something on TV about, politicians are proposing a bill where a soulmate can make legal and medical decisions for their bonded if that person is unable to make those decisions themselves, some bill named after some random metropolis citizen where their soulmate lover died because the next of kin family they were estranged from were allowed to make medical decisions instead and their lover died, like it's something you would totally see on the news for real.

Then, months and months later after you're in a relationship with Lex, he's hosting a party and you see some of those very same politicians there, overhearing them thanking Lex for his contributions. Snapcut to a day you really REALLY do something to defy him, either you're rejecting him or trying to break up with him or trying to run away or, all of the above but also you do legitimately have some mental health issues, and here Lex is, now having the full legal power to say, "oh honey, now you have to go to the hospital :( why would you make me have to do this :(" and you get to go on your Super Duper Funtime Adventure to a private clinic he coincidentally has made some major financial donations to.

Genuinely I feel like I've mentioned this before but I feel like there's a real... personal horror in the idea of "my yandere took me to a doctor and that doctor diagnosed me with stuff and I have no idea if I genuinely have those disorders or if my yandere paid the doctor to say those things" because the twist is tasty in either direction??? Is your yandere delusional and trying to chalk up your rejections to extreme anxiety and other grasped straws and insists you be medicated so you can love them? Is your yandere just trying to legitimately help, and you actually genuinely did see a legitimate non biased doctor? Is your yandere actually totally just lying and they just want you to be more obedient and reliant on them, have doubts in yourself and trust them alone, letting them make decisions for you? It's all so good...and then not knowing would stress you out and make you paranoid even MORE...

but then I also think of like. How he could genuinely try to make gestures to win you over and things he could do that are positive. You two are just getting to know each other and you're extremely reluctant to do anything and, while internally he wants to do these quite grand little expenses for you, he's willing to analyze you and calculate a plan of making smaller gestures over time. At least, smaller in the scale that he's like one of the top richest and smartest creatures on his entire planet, and that's a planet with aliens and magical creatures on it, but, you know. He'll try and tone it down a little-

I've had this idea where like... he gives you this expensive bracelet or ring or necklace or watch, some sort of accesory, as a gift and, being the self loathing person that you are, you're out on the town one day and you walk into a higher end jewlery store because you feel like punishing yourself by trying to figure out how much money was spent on your gift, and, through whatever means, the store accuses you of theft (because you're just a dirty poor person, why would you have this nice thing unless you swiped it) and maybe they even have the audacity to technically assault you and take it off of your person

Somewhere on the other side of the world in a conference room, there's a hidden earpiece buzzing, "Mr Luthor we have a situation-" and he's on a private jet within the half-hour. He gets there and you've either been arrested and put in a cell or he gets there to find you getting manhandled by police because you're technically resisting arrest by panicking, "please just look at the footage, i didn't do anything wrong-" and he flies into a rage at the way you're being jerked and tugged and twisted until you're crying out that they're hurting you

Police department? Sued. That store? Sued. Bankrupted. Bought out. Bulldozed. It's a gentrified downtown sculpture garden now. Lex buys you another gift that's even nicer than the first since the first one has now been "tainted" with this bad memory, plus he's now indirectly (but, of course, with calculations) has made a very VERY public warning to anyone who would dare to harm you in any way whatsoever.

He's a very, "sweetie didn't you ask for no pickles? Should I have them killed for you? It wouldn't be any trouble at all-" kind of guy

Lex Luthor who catches wind of confidential news that a mysterious asteroid has crashed down on an island off the coast of Fake DC Country and he plans a research expedition to study its contents BUT ALSO that same day he's like "darling have you ever gotten to eat freshly caught crab before?" and suddenly you're jet-setting off to a tropical island, because what kind of evil supervillain future-husband would he be if he didn't turn his research expedition into potential alien activity into a bonus vacation with his pookie?

You're wandering the beaches or exploring the tide when you find this pretty little gemstone that may or may not turn out to be platinum Kryptonite that was brought to Earth by the meteorite and you're now the first organic creature that has touched it.

I like the idea of, you develop these powers and suddenly you have all these new potential problems but also possibilities? Sure you're suddenly under Batman and the government's radar, but, think of all the good you can do now that you can fly, have super strength invulnerability, the works? Meanwhile Lex is simultaneously fascinated, curious, proud, but also, wanting to research this, see if it can be replicated, exploited.

Part of me is like, would he be 500% against you going into danger or would at the very most try and harvest your blood or something, OR, now that he knows there's really not much danger to you, he's like "oh, you want to be a little superhero? Oh, how adorable sweetie, let me help design your costume-" and he's, hm, I dunno if it would be entirely incorrect to say he's lowkey using you like a tool in the sense of, you're testing things he develops, he's observing and researching your powers, he's getting to watch you "play and have fun" while also gaining new research data from you, and also making connections with powerful people. He may even... pull some strings to have you do something in his favor. "Oh darling what's wrong? Oh no, that facility you attacked because you got 'information' they were terrorists were actually innocent people and now that country has been seized by hostile powers that have coincidentally agreed to let my company mine lithium there? Oh nooooooo :( darling I'm so sorry, we all make mistakes, I still love you-" or he just like, makes more business deals because he receives, shall we say, secondhand clout from any and all of your accomplishments should you become a hero

Lest we forget, there's a version of Lex Luthor who once built a powerplant under a Metropolis neighborhood and made it deliberately look suspicious as fuck just because he wanted Superman to attack it and make a fool of himself and upset the public because "what the fuck superman why did you just ruin this totally helpful normal thing just because Lex Luthor made it, thanks dickhead". Luthor is incredibly calculating, driven, petty, and has deep deep pockets and plenty of resources for any possible fantasy he has, and also he's 1000% willing to crash out if it involves Superman WHICH IS ALSO WHY I think it would be incredibly hilarious if he's just BEYOND PISSED that you developing powers means you need mentorship from Superman and Lex is forced to watch the two of you have like.... Genuine Moments

You develop the ability to fly for the first time and you're just high up in air jerking around shrieking unable to control yourself and you have no idea what to do and while Lex is still trying to formulate a way to get you down, here comes Kal, able to fly up, gently grab you, hold you in place as he talks you down, teaches you how to float, holding your hands and speaking so softly and kindly as he teaches you how to descend and the two of you sloooooooowly dip down until your feet are on the ground again

Cut to Lex being absolutely furious because not only did he "have that handled" but why is Superman feeling so emboldened to place his hands on yours, on your shoulders, giving you a comforting hug when you burst into tears about how scared you were and thanking him for saving you? You and Superman are like tenderly platonicly hugging and there's reporters and a little crowd nearby doing the whole "Awwww 🥺❤️" and meanwhile Lex is over here turning red as a tomato just absolutely steaming 'ugh I can't believe Superman showed up I hate him I hate him I hate him L + ratio + you're a loser I hate you die die die die'

Kal opens his mouth and offers to be your teacher and here's Lex trying to be a big man, storming up all but bumping chests with the guy, "➡️I⬅️ can help take care of my own mate, Superman 😡" meanwhile you're standing there ACTUALLY EMBARRASSED BY LEX, like can you even imagine the levels of "open wound, insert salt" of Lex puffing up against Superman because he's fucking jealous and then you're like "omg Lex you can't be mean to Superman! He just helped me!! Apologize, what the fuck?!" and you're clearly like, a fan or a person who looks up to the boy in blue and said boyscout may even brush a lil bit bc, you know, his mama did try to raise a kind honest man and, he sure is happy his efforts are appreciated-

Have I mentioned I see Lex Luthor having an eidetic memory, as in the condition where you never forget anything, which I think would make him really terrifying to deal with, actually. He'll literally be able to study and memorize every single thing about you, everything he notices, everything you say, do, all your little behaviors, quirks, habits, addictions, and it'd also make him a monster during arguments because what are you gonna do, tell the supergenius he's misremembering? Dude is over here inventing robots like Amazo and curing cancer AND he can never forget? Why not just fucking lobotomize me since you wanna make me feel so dumb-

[i-yap]

Lex Luthor X reader. Like reader is a sweetheart, she doesn't actually realise what he is doing until she sees Superman

Lex luthor x sweetheart!y/n

yandere themes.

General secretary of the UN, Billionaire, Scientist, Philanthropist, Ceo of a megacompany and a very handsome charismatic man - you thought you hit the jackpot and got a unicorn( except the hair)

He was just so smooth with his words, " You work yourself too hard sweetheart, let me treat you right" he'd say or " Say the word and its yours. Afterall you give me everything I could ever want by being by my side darling" . Its hard not to fall for lex luthor once he sets his sights on you.

And when you see him in his elements, with his wit and sly charm, it could disable countries (literally has). But after a long day of doing stuff you couldn't even keep track of, here he was with you. Raw and relaxed, no facade when it comes to you. Except..well the fact that he is a murderer and a plotter - an evil mastermind. He was a mastermind, you knew that. But he'd twist his words and you'd believe he was doing it for good.

He did always have a way with words. And there is no way he was gonna let his sweetheart, his lover , the only kind loving thing in his life leave him. He thrived on your adoration, the little gleam you were proud and how you'd kiss him on his cheek while grinning when he said something particularly smart.

He had everything planned, you would never find out. He'd marry you, have mastermind kids and keep you with him forever. He had, however not planned for you to see his plans with superman. That was something he could not twist , could not make seem good intentioned.

" You want to kill superman?" "Darling you misunderstand, Im offended you would suggest something this outrageous" 'I SAW THE PLANS LUTHOR, I SAW IT ALL. HOW COULD YOU" "he is evil, superman is too powerful the plan is a "just in case"" "NO STOP LYING TO ME, I SAW THE DATE I SAW THE DETAILS STOP LYING" "y/n listen to me, you are blowing this out of proportion-"" MY FIANCE IS A MURDERER AND IM BLOWING IT OUT OF PROPORTION. I'm leaving luthor..I'm leaving"

As soon as you turn around and wipe the tears from your eyes, luthor is behind you and inject you with a sleep medication.

You don't get to leave, you'll understand..with time at least. He'll make sure of it.

[blackynsupremacy]

me watching smallville on my ipad instead of my tv because my down (AND DELULU) horrendous ass needs to have tom welling’s face up against mine.

[bludovebunny]

✧ ☽ ✫. moonlight ✩.

✧ in a quiet garden ♡︎.

. ✧ that is her beauty ☾

pairing ღ Lex Luthor x fem! oc/reader

chapter one . chapter two .

ღ Summary ღ After suffering through a few personal troubles in the City of Metropolis, Niah Foxx ventures to live with her grandparents at their homestead within the warm, quaint town that is Smallville. Although instinctively a sweet, warm-hearted woman who frolics in the realm of dreams way too often, whisked away between the pages of books and poetry to escape reality, there presents a cynical point of view towards society as a whole as she struggles to find a place of belonging and people to rely on. Her reserved nature is quite apparent, as is the wisdom gained in the quietness of solitude and mere observation. And, unbeknownst to her, catches the attentive eye of the young heir of LuthorCorp with an infamous reputation. It only begs the question: In what way does a dove break loose from the coils of a snake? If it wants to escape at all? ღ Themes ღ emotional vulnerability obsession unrequited feelings slow burn friends to lovers height difference loyalty angst fluff poetry opposites attract romance loneliness survival of the fittest strength vs weakness

a/n i'm excited to post this story! i been working on this fic since the beginning of january, so here's to hoping you'll enjoy the angsty fluff journey between these two! Warning: Lex is flirty lol Anyone is welcome!

Miles stretched on ahead as the old truck drove down the road, feeling the interior space rumble around her as Niah sat quietly in the passenger seat, window drawn up to prevent the cool morning air from slipping in. The young woman is found not without company, as her grandparents join her on this early quest towards the Farmer Market: Morris sitting at the wheel while Mary sat snuggled between them in the middle seat. During their journey, deep brown eyes observe the occasional sight of cattle that graze along the pasture, basking in the radiance of this chilly morning where wet dew softens the ground beneath their hooves.

Far off in the distance as the sun decorates the sky, painting upon the blue canvas a blend of pink and purple hues with its own rays of golden light. She is reminded there is love in creation, even in cold mornings like these where the wind is absent, and small clouds float scattered far and in-between. For a moment, she catches the ghostly reflection of her face in the glass window, and contemplates the short time she’s been there, arriving merely two months ago to get away from the city to live within the vicinity of this humble town.

Niah felt fortunate for once in her life, that her grandparents allowed her to seek refuge under their wings, like a baby chick quickly huddling beneath the feathers of its mother when its raining on a dreary day. “Stay as long as you need, baby girl. As long as it takes.” Their words of reassurance nestled between the broken cracks of her heart as she steadily settled into their quiet home, especially so once the plush comforter encircled around her tired body that evening in Smallville. And that first night, tears soaked the pillow, and she curled her spine into a fetal position and never left that spot, even past midnight till touches of morning sunlight peeked through the blinds.

It was out of her nature to ask for favors. She initially didn’t wish to impose into their lives so abruptly–they’ve reached the prime of their old age, their energy once abundantly rich as grain in the field, has grown meager as the seasons merged on to the next. But the urgency to separate from the stresses of her environment surmounted that fact, and they in turn bestowed a gift in the form of mercy.

Smallville. A rural town with plenty of space to reset her mind. Nothing but cornfields that stretched far and wide underneath vacant blue skies.

Somewhere fresh and new.

Perhaps the start of a new beginning.

In the tall grass, she spotted a herd of deer prancing wildly. They danced amongst the thick vegetation, hooves kicking up soft dirt in their joy, without care in the world.

The rustic area spoke familiar to the essence of her inner child, reminds her of a childhood friend she visits to see every year in the summer of June. It’s early October, and the air lacks its tender warmth she’s grown accustomed to. But it was fine, no reason to complain. Although not particularly new to her surroundings, there were pleasant memories stashed away that would flicker in her mind’s eye when she recognized a popular landmark. And there were other memories that swam to the surface from something as simple as a scent that carried along in the breeze, or rather, earthy eyes falling upon a certain plant native to the area.

Honeysuckle; oh, how often she desires to suckle upon its sweet nectar when given the chance.

Nostalgia had an inconspicuous way of evoking a river of emotions to burst within her, and the water would often overflow past the shoreline, soaking grains of sand with tears and bringing forth messages in a bottle.

Niah Foxx was always labeled a sensitive person, possessing abundant care toward things, even things of little insignificance, than should be required for her heart to take. At times, she observed how it contributed more affliction to enter her life, the pain of feeling oh, so, intensely, it splinters the fragile heart made of ceramic. And yet, she embraces it for everything it is, for how should she be, rather than be herself?

Suddenly, she was pulled away from her thoughts when she felt her hand being squeezed. But when she turned to look, she realized it was only Mary, and that comforting smile of hers that Niah was so familiar with. “You doin’ alright, sugar plum?” Hand on her lap, another gentle squeeze was offered.

“Yea, I am, thanks.” Voice soft and low, like the small smile she returns in kind, almost poignant. Niah knew the meaning behind Mary’s concern. “Jus kinda wondering how far we are from the market is all.”

 “It won’t be too long now.” Morris chimed in. “I’d give it about six minutes till we get there.”

She hummed in response, and returned her gaze back to the passing scenery behind the window. Somewhere high above the sun, a star twinkled brightly.

They eventually reached their destination, the Farmer’s Market finally coming into view before pulling into the parking lot. They searched for an available parking space, but Niah was somewhat distracted by the number of people carrying basketfuls of their own homegrown produce towards their booths. She hadn’t anticipated seeing such a big crowd hustling and bustling this early in the morning already, but she suspects it shouldn’t come as a surprise considering farmers woke every day at the break of dawn to tend to duties around the farmyard. Nonetheless, she could feel a spark of newfound energy surge straight through her, teeming on the brink of excitement. It’s been a long time since she’s attended a Farmer’s Market; she could faintly recall going a few times in her life when she was younger, many of which were fun experiences as she fondly remembers the pony rides.

When Morris switched the gear to park, Niah practically jumped out of the truck with Mary following suit before shutting the door. It wasn’t long before they began unloading a few things from the trunk. While on their way to where the rest of the vendors prepared to get their booths set up, Niah spotted a few familiar faces amongst the crowd, delightfully surprised to see Martha and Jonathan Kent assembling their own Gazebo tent.

The Kent family were dear old friends of her grandparents. They lived five minutes away down the road from their house, so they occasionally ran into each other from time to time–either Mary presenting one of her famous sweet potato pies on the table when Martha visited, and two glasses of sweet wine cradled in their hands while they engaged in their own sophisticated version of girl talk, or Morris and Johnathan cracking a simple beer as they idled on the porch where they discussed topics befitting macho men: Football, basketball, fishing, motorcycles, or typical farm work.

“Pawpaw, look, the Kents are here already.” She angled her head in their direction, catching his attention as he spared them a glance.

“Aw yea,” He smiled. “looks like they gettin’ ready for a big day jus like us. Let’s get on now, we’ll be left in the dust if we don’t catch up.”

“We could probably set up close by.” She suggested, thinking it’ll be nice to be around familiar faces.

Niah, who frequented Smallville a few times a year with her mom as a child, never quite developed a close relationship with the Kents beyond acquaintanceship due to them being, well, full grown adults–possibly in their 40’s at the time-but that didn’t mean Niah dismissed her manners in their presence, behaving politely and cordial in the way her parents raised her. Niah stood fairly younger, older but a bit closer in age to their son, Clark. A shy flower bud of a kid. The little chestnut-haired boy would follow her around as they explored her grandparents’ property, whether playing hide and seek behind one of the old sheds, trees or bushes, and overturning big rocks to discover a slimy world of tiny insects that resided underneath or rescuing helpless worms trapped on cracked cement.

As far as she knew, the Kents were friends of the family, their memories reflecting in bits and pieces of her life.

They ended up assembling their tent two booths away. While her grandparents finished the final arrangements with one of the last pieces, Morris sent Niah off to the truck to start gathering the produce together, and she took off on a light sprint with not much issue. But seemingly in no rush, her feet slowed to a steady pace as she decided to take in her surroundings. More than the typical farmer was setting up to vend on this special day, as she also saw souvenirs and other items that delved into creative artistry being hung on display. Food carts that sold snacks were starting to roll in. And she noticed a section on the far side where people were wrangling farm animals within their own enclosures, setting up for children and adults alike to hitch a short ride on a pony, or pet a docile lamb or an unruly goat. Llamas and alpaca’s were also present.

It seemed like the day was off to a smooth start. She had a feeling it would be a fun day. Maybe during a short break she could check out the farm animals.

“Niah!”

She swiveled her head towards the person in question and smiled as her eyes landed on a tall figure. Clark. He quickly reached her before falling in step next to her.

“Hey sweetpea,” she greeted sweetly. “I was wonderin’ when you was gonna pop up.” Her arm wrapped around his waist for a side hug, and he returned the affection with his much longer arm around her shoulders, giving her a nice tight squeeze. “I saw your parents earlier, but you was missing in action.”

“Oh, I must’ve been at the truck at the time you guys first came in.”

“Ahh makes sense. I thought it odd you was jus gonna let your mom and dad do all the work while you slacked off somewhere.” When the mood strikes her, one of her favorite pastimes was finding a way to tease the hulking teenager.

A breathy scoff left his lips as it curled at the corner, and with a playful roll of his eye, he responded in a sardonic tone. “Funny, funny… says the girl who’s abandoning her poor ole grandparents to fix a tent while you go wander around the market. As if that’s any better.”

That one made her laugh. “I’m actually heading to the lot to start unloading some of our stuff, if you must know. I’m actually doing what my paw told me.”

“Well, I’m here to give a hand.” He shrugged. “My dad said I could help ya’ll out for a bit, you know, make things a bit easier for your grandparents since they’re…you know…uh-“

She craned her neck to look up at him, concern flickering in her gaze as she met his eyes for a moment. She understood the implications of his words, the hint of worry in his green eyes, even if he strained to properly vocalize it. “Getting older? Yea….” It formed in the pit of her stomach, that special type of heaviness to witness the way vitality of ones you hold dear gradually diminish over the years.

Morris and Mary Lewis weren’t getting any younger. The Kents were well aware, which is why they often lent Clark to assist around their homestead and vineyard when it was required to help lighten their load. They needed all the help they could get, even if their pride won’t admit it.

“Thanks, boo. You’re a real hero. I know they appreciate you.”

A blush of red streaked across his face. And always in denial of his noteworthy deeds, he shook his head. “Naaah, I’m no hero.”

She shot him with a look of disbelief, stopping in her tracks as they finally reached the vehicle in the parking lot. “Clark, you not only help out my family when they need it, but, you literally jus saved someone’s life the other day from drowning in the river. What do you think a hero is? What it means?”

The news made the paper in town. Niah couldn’t conceal her astonishment once she got word that her friend rescued a man behind the wheel from drowning in the river. The name of the man slips her mind, again. Some, reckless son of a billionaire coined with the last name: Luthor. It’s a wonder how he even survived the crash, since photos of the incident demonstrate the wrecked condition of the car.

One life could’ve been lost that day, but by some unforeseen miracle, the result didn’t end within the throes of tragedy.

His hand reached for the back of his neck to rub against, bowing his head in a weak attempt to hide the blush on his face that only deepened at her praise. “It was nothing really.” Clark said, lifting his head at the sound of her lowering the lid of the trunk door. “I must’ve been gifted with, um, fast reflexes from my real parents…doesn’t mean I’m some type of hero.”

“Aww,” she tilted her head at him, and smiled wide in a way meant to lightly tease him further, “when did my little pipsqueak get to be so modest?”

Ever the shy farm boy, she observed over the years how Clark would rather downplay certain accomplishments he attained than bask in the overwhelming applause of extolment. To receive attention of any sort wasn’t exactly his forte. And as much as she sometimes poked fun at him, Niah understood the plight of embarrassment that followed after praise was thrown his way. They shared similarities in this regard, as Niah inclined to withdraw away from undue attention herself.

Clark frowned down at her. His suddenly stern expression of disapproval was a comical sight and worth the light teasing. He gripped one of the biggest, longest tables and began dragging it out of the trunk. “Why do you keep calling me that?” He complained, clearly peeved by the term. “I’m like, a foot taller or more than you now.”

As if she needed to be reminded. Two years ago. Niah recalls that late summer day she came into town to discover Clark had turned into Paul Bunyan overnight.

She grabbed a basket filled with big, juicy apples, and spoke absentmindedly. “Don’t know… maybe when you grow a mustache, beard and–oh, chest hair. But don’t worry, I won’t say it in front of your friends.” Of course, she would be kind to preserve his dignity before the judgmental gaze of his adolescent peers. “By the way, will some of them be coming today?”

“Mm, just Chole and Pete. They should be here pretty soon–can’t say I know who else will be here.”

“I think Lana will.” Niah chirped. “She said she’ll swing by to support, the last time I asked.”

Clark quickly turned to look at her for a moment. “Oh–oh really?”

Working as a new employee at Nell’s flower boutique shop, there were many pleasant encounters with the highly esteemed young girl, Lana Lang. Niah suspected Clark harbored feelings of some sort, particularly evident when he’d become extremely attentive at the mere mention of her name in conversation.

She soon realized that even the art of discreetness when it came to his romantic interests was also not his forte.

“Yea, but I’m sure you’ll see a few of your classmates today. I mean – it’s the weekend with nothing to do, to be honest. What else is there to do in town other than go to the Farmers Market?” It was the latest event of the fall season in Smallville. Any other special events that came to mind took place in nearby cities.

“I suppose that’s true.”

Only three hours passed since every vendor set up shop. The sun hitched higher in the sky with each passing lonely cloud. And the entire market continued to frolic with activity, flourishing with local residents of the small town. Niah and her grandparents spent the majority of their time behind the tables, switching between conversing with potential buyers who strolled by their booth or completing the transaction of a successful sale. Easy for the most part.

She was no salesperson by any means, nor did she ever consider herself a fluent talker–to engage in small talk was highly unfavorable. But there exists a small ounce of contentment felt when a genuine connection was established during interactions with people.

On occasion, she would take a breather and observe from a distance to find the Kent’s were just as busy tending to customers. Even Clark’s classmates, Chole and Pete, arrived to offer a hand to the family. It was lovely to see he found friends who showed up for him.

Friends he could rely on. Friends he could depend on.

Niah was never quite as fortunate in that area. Not always. Her heart was an incessant revolving door – people made a habit of exiting her life as quickly as they came. But as far as she could conclude, since moving into the area, to draw a comparison of authenticity between the community of Smallville and the citizens of Metropolis still stood on the line of uncertainty, but she reckons that the harsh reality of experience will surely taunt her once more, remind her that heartfelt connection most desired was unattainable for a reserved woman of her melancholic condition.

Maybe by some stroke of a miracle, some mysterious soul might prove to be different. But she no longer entertains the notion of high hopes anymore.

“Bye, ma’am! Thanks for stopping by.” She waved at an elderly lady who recently bought a container of blueberries. The fruit was one of the most popular choices by far, along with the apples and strawberries.

After watching her walk away, she sucked in a deep breath and blew slowly, trying to relax her muscles as she rolled her shoulders. Admittedly, weariness was beginning to seep into her muscles from standing on her feet for such a long period of time, and chatting with multiple individuals for a few hours only continued to sap at what energy she preserved for the day. She debated on telling her grandad she needed a break, a short one to get through the next two hours before they got ready to pack up shop.

Before a decision could be settled, she startled when two little kids rushed past and bumped against the table, knocking a few apples out of the stacked arrangement she placed them in. A deep groan left her throat with a sink of her shoulders, but it wasn’t a huge mess that couldn’t be amended, thankfully. As she went about rearranging the apples once more, an unknown presence slowly drew close to the booth, moving like a shadow in broad day light.

And a deep, silken voice suddenly penetrated her ears, too close in range to be far away. “These are some nice pickings you got set up here. A lot of variety to go around.”

Now interrupted by a potential customer, her attention drew away from the fruit to focus on the latest person to stop at their booth. Her gaze wandered and fell upon the lean figure of a male. The man stood tall, looming on the opposite side of the table with his hands tucked securely in his pants pockets. His head was slightly tilted to lock eyes with her, noting the soft intensity of his steel blue orbs that, with a mere glance, could send shivers down a person’s bones–cool, in comparison to the warm hue of her own eyes of earthy brown.

The stranger somehow stuck out more than any person she’s encountered thus far. Even amongst the herd of people who wore the typical flannel and steel-toe boots, his choice of wardrobe was to wear a suit, pressed and thoroughly ironed, an outfit more fit for formal affairs than it would be an outdoor market in a rural environment. A tie was missing. She assumes he must be a resident of Metropolis–business related. But what struck the most was his bald head, an interesting alternative that left him distinctly unique from the rest of the crowd. Yet, his baldness only accentuated his angular features and drew attention to the brightness of his eyes–somehow, they seemed to glisten in the shade.

She then saw the man smile softly, lip quirking at the corner at her quietness. The small shift of his expression prompted her to blink, suddenly realizing she must’ve been staring. Supposedly it couldn’t be helped, granted that, at first glance, his appearance as a whole was quite striking, at least to her.

“I'm–I’m sorry, ha,” a quick apology ushered forth, cheeks a tad warm, her hands going back to fixing the formation of the apples into their proper place. “I was bit distracted by these little guys and then you, uh–“ words trail as her gaze slowly lifted to his face.

A shoulder was cocked in a smooth manner, his lips curling up a tad higher. “It’s not a problem. I tend to get that reaction every once in a while–no big deal.” He reassured, a sense of calm permeating his voice like untroubled waters, lulling her worries as she returned a nervous smile. Rather than taking offense of her initial staring, he seemed more amused than anything else. Casually, he removed a hand from his pocket to pick up an apple that had strayed from the rest, laying his eyes on the fruit to inspect it for a moment, before responding. “It’s almost flattering more than anything.” He met her gaze once more and placed the apple on top of the pile, completing the decorative display. His hand slid back into its pocket.

“Oh, um, thank you.” She muttered as she looked down, rubbing at her pant legs as an excuse to escape his stare. The man possessed an air of coolness in the way he stood before her. Calm and laidback. But she could see traces of amusement that pranced across his expression as he looked at her with an interest she couldn’t decipher. The stranger’s presence stirred up shyness within her.

“But um,” her tone uttered soft as she tries to find her voice, remembering she had a job to do, “yes, we’ve got a lot here to choose from. Would you like a sample of anything? Maybe you have a favorite fruit you’d like to try?”

His eyebrows jumped at her offer, a glint in his eye. The stranger barely spared a glance at the fruit in front of him. “Hmm, I’m willing to give anything a fair chance. It wouldn’t do me well to keep my options closed to new experiences in taste. What would you propose I try?”

“Well…” Full lips press together in a second of thought, then she turned to reach for a sampler container and opened the lid. Deciding to play it safe, she offered up a slice of apple on a pick, clenched firmly between her index and thumb. “I’m sure you’ve had apples before, but these ones taste pretty good, at least in my humble opinion.”

He smirks. “Thank you, I’d say your opinion is worth a shot.” When he goes to grab the sample, his fingers brush over her smaller ones, his palm almost enveloping her whole hand as he carefully attempts to slide the pick from her grasp. She couldn’t tell if he did it on purpose or not. But as he drew back, a wave of tingles warmly erupted upon the skin where he made contact. Withdrawing her hand, she massaged it with her other to soothe away the odd feeling.

Whatever feeling his touch inspired.

The sample was gone in one bite as he chewed, and his eyes widened for a split second. Niah felt a sense of pride swelling up in her, as she’s seen the same response all day from people who sampled their produce. “That taste pretty amazing. Exceptional, actually.” The man sounded impressed, as if he hadn’t expected it to actually taste good. “I assume it must be your favorite, then?”

Her smile grew a little wider. Shy. “Oh um…I don’t know, it’s kinda difficult to choose.” Thoughtfully does her head tilt to the side, tip of her finger gently pressed against her cheek. “But I, uh, I kinda maybe lean towards the strawberries and blueberries a bit. Well, I really love watermelon, but they aren’t in season at the moment. They are usually sold in the summer season.”

He acknowledges her words with a small hum of his throat, considering his options of plentiful fruit at his disposal. “Mind if I sample a strawberry?” he asked with a slight drawl. “If it’s not too much trouble, I mean.”

“Oh, of course.” She chirps as she grabbed another sampler. This time she makes sure to let him choose his own pickings.

Big brown eyes watches expectantly as he popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly to savor the sweet flavor. He cleared his throat, swallowed, and licked his lips before shooting her a small, flirtatious smirk, simply said. “It tastes sweet. Like you.”

The compliment was so sudden. She had no clue on how to respond. Her lips parted as warmth flooded her body, her mind immediately scattering in an effort to formulate words. Taken aback and absolutely dumbstruck. She must’ve looked like a fool in front of him. “Th-thank you. I, uh. Ha.” words stumbled forth as she forced a laugh. Bashful. Nerves wrecked. “I grew them myself.”

The man seemed to smile to himself, as if pleased by her reaction. “Ah, well, that makes all the more sense--seems to me you’ve incorporated some your attributes into your produce. Y’know, the quality of the creation is usually contingent upon the cultivation of its nurturer. The labor and love are clearly there. Think I’ll take two containers of strawberries and five apples. I think you’ve quite outdone yourself, miss?”

A hand lifts to touch delicate upon her face. Her cheeks now burned beneath her palm, still warm. “Niah. Just Niah.” She breathed, were the only words she could muster, and her fingers brushes away a dreadlock strand from her face. To receive such commendation had always been overwhelming to bear, especially since this was her first time selling at the market, nor had she expected to gain a positive response from many people in just one day. She immediately began gathering up his order.

“Lex Luthor. Just Lex, though.” He teases lightly, mimicking her choice of words, something almost playful in his sharp eyes. “Who cares about surnames in this small town anyway.”

Her brows softly furrow at that, as the mention of his name causes her to pause and stare at him. Any small trace of bashfulness that once inhabited her demeanor suddenly vanishes once realization sets in of the man standing before her. The accident. Luthor, as in…

“Wait are you…” she starts slowly, “you’re the guy who crashed on Loeb bridge the other day.”

Lex raises his eyebrows, muscles in his shoulders growing tense, as if caught at being found out in an act of wrongdoing. But no implication of accusation could be detected in her words, nor in her voice. Only simple curiosity, her interest piqued. And she sees his tongue wet his lips again before they press together in a fine line, followed by a long exhale that releases through his nose, as if he’s been holding it in all this time.

“You’re close.” Languidly he remarks, and cast his gaze off to the side, seeming to recall the events that took place that day. He looks relaxed, but she can see strain in his neck, the shifting of his jaw. “But I’d say it was more like hurling down into the river, adrenaline high, blood pumping hot, ready to face imminent death, more like.” Self-deprecating the way he smiles and returns his regard back upon her. “Interestingly enough, a bystander–a kid nonetheless, jumped in and saved my life. Ironic sometimes how fate tends to play out differently for all of us.”

She regards him with eyes that had softened considerably, sympathetic in their weight as he holds her stare. “Yea…the kid. Clark, he’s actually a friend of mine.” At his look of surprise, she carries on. “He’s a good kid. I’m glad he was there at the time to be of help. It’s scary to think what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there.”

A dash of redness dappled at his cheeks, the image seeming uncharacteristic of his person by how stiff his movements appeared as he shifted his weight. He quickly cleared his throat. “Forgive me. I didn’t intend to cause so much trouble. It wasn’t exactly part of my schedule to go driving off a bridge that day.” Oh, she realized he must be embarrassed, even remorseful of his actions.

“I know. I know.” She nodded and offered a small smile; one she hoped would be reassuring enough. “Don’t worry. I’m just glad no one got killed. You’re alive… I think that’s what matters more than anything. Anyone would feel the same way.”

His face straightens at that, and for a few seconds, Lex says nothing. And he analyzes her with a quiet, attentive eye, his countenance slipping on an expression that resembles skepticism, as if the concept of anyone imparting some essence of compassion towards him was unheard of. Unthinkable–a stranger whom he just met more or less who speaks gentle of him in earnest, is what she imagines. It wouldn’t have been such a profound of an observation if his silence hadn’t stretched on the way it did as she waited for a response.

“I gotta say,” he finally remarks, curiosity hinted in his tone with a arch of a brow, “you definitely took this in good stride in comparison to most people I’ve come across with in town.”

“Really? What are some things people said to you?”

He shrugged. “Drive slower. And that one was the nicest among them all. The others weren’t soo, I’d say, amicable in nature–is the way I’d lightly put it.”

“Well, I know there’s truth in that.” She agreed, and went about collecting up the produce he ordered. “I wouldn’t want you to get tangled up in another accident and lose your life…or endanger someone else’s.”

“Of course. It would’ve been most unfortunate had I lost my life before coming to my first Smallville Farmers Market. I might’ve missed the chance to pass your booth and sample your amazing apples and strawberries. Suppose you can call me fortunate this day.”

His words elicit a small, dainty laugh to breeze pass her lips–tickled by his charm as the anxiety from earlier melts away. “Oh, I’m sorry. This wasn’t all me. My grandparents own the booth and grew most of the crops here. Some, I’ve helped while others I did on my own. But–y’know, everything is a team effort to get the best results that everyone can enjoy. Hopefully.”

Unbeknownst to her while she rambles, Lex takes his time as he looks her up and down, studying her while she packs two containers in a paper bag. He slightly turns his upper body sideways, a quiet hum leaving his throat as he brings a soft, closed fist on top of the table, lightly taps the surface of it with his finger. “Hmm, she’s not only a sweetheart, but she so happens to have a stroke of modesty. Virtues aren’t always easy to come by where I hail from.” This time, something implicit in his tone hints at a seductive quality lurking beneath the surface, and the notion was emphasized when she caught his eye and held her gaze for a solid moment. Almost transfixed the way she couldn’t look away.

“Had I known they had women like you in a quaint town such as this, I’d probably visit much sooner...”

Deliberate intent that bespeaks of an interest inclining far from the innocence of platonic endeavors.

And her heart starts to beat rapidly. She gulps.

Wait.

It was at this point it dawned on her that he must’ve been flirting with her. Lex Luthor. Throughout their entire conversation. All this time. How did this observation fly over her head? From the intense eye contact. The accidental hand hold–although she couldn’t blame him based on the conditions of the incident–the compliments. Praise. And other little tidbits he threw about in the wind.

But Niah, she should embrace honesty of her conscious, she’d profess it all came down to denial. She had her share of experience to recognize interest and subtle desire that reflected in a man’s gaze. Infatuation: A temporary fascination with the object of the eye. It’s better to not acknowledge it. Any interest he exhibits is merely ephemeral. Fleeting.

Memories filter through her mind then. And there’s a sudden ache in her heart.

The air feels dry when she swallows, again, and a shift occurs in her demeanor when she speaks, the warmth that once inhabited her voice now flows tepidly off her tongue. Quickly, she averts her eyes from his. “Yes, well… I think modesty is a common virtue among honest farmers and the like, y’know? At least the ones I know anyway.” His flirtatious remark goes unacknowledged as she then proceeds to state the cost of the produce.

Lex gives a slight turn of his head, eyelids a tad low, a calculating stare, as he detects something different in the air around between them. And she only hopes he’ll take the hint. But to her surprise, when Niah chances another look at him, the smooth smirk he wore had slithered higher on his face, an expression similar to a snake, as if finding more amusement at her lack of interest, entertained by the difference in their dynamic.

A challenge.

Maybe.

“Ah, I can see that.” Reaching for his wallet in his inner coat pocket, he flips through a couple of bills, the texture fresh and expensive. “Maybe by chance I’ll get the opportunity of coming across more like-minded folks around here. Being in the company of honest-hearted people may do me some good since it seems my circumstances have led me to take up residency in Smallville.” He drops the game, a temporary break–allows it to rest in his resignation.

Lex apparently knew when to take a hint. And she finds herself grateful.

“Oh . . . where you from then?” Curiosity tugged at her for some unknown reason.

“Metropolis.”

“Funny. I actually thought that when I first saw you. The only thing really missing is a bowtie, though.”

His hand lifts to touch his neck where the particle of clothing was meant to be. “Oh, right, I left it at home in the basket along with the rest my dirty laundry.” He joked, offering a lopsided smile, far too charismatic than he needs to be. And again, somehow beyond her control, the sight prompts a demure smile of her own, though she tries to fight against it by looking away. Gosh, she was bad at this.

It was unfair.

Lex smoothly hands her a bill between two fingers – twenty-dollar sharp. He tells her to keep the change before she could protest. Then she remembers he’s a billionaire, of course, and she gives him the paper bag with his order. Another fruitful sale. 

He moves slow as he takes a single step back from the booth, his cerulean gaze lingering upon her face for a moment longer. “Well. Niah, it was a pleasure talking to you. ‘Suppose–I’ll see you again sometime.” The way he framed his words doesn’t end with the mark of a question; it sounded like a promise.

A dash of hope that dangles between them.

But her eyes fall low with a gentle shrug of her shoulders, and she turn her attention back towards the apples, hands delicately rearranging them back into presentable order. She’s been messing with them all day, but she relied on the distraction of her hands to ease her nerves. “Who knows? Only time will tell if our paths will cross again.”

Lex Luthor is a playboy billionaire. What should she expect. And she clings onto the belief that the possibility was highly unlikely. “Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Luthor. Have a nice day, okay?” It made things easier.

He offers a quick nod, flashes her one last smile before sauntering off down the lane of other vendors, her gaze following his form until he disappeared within the crowd.

As soon as he left, her lungs released a breath of relief, and her limbs go slack, her hands bracing on the table’s surface as she leans against it. That interaction drained more of her energy than she formerly realized.

[kateswallofweird]

IS THIS THE END? . . .

smallville!lex luthor x you; cw angst, hurt no comfort, mentions of blood, allusion to death; wc 289

💭 michael rosenbaum's acting is absolute crack and i know it because how did he make a megalomaniac evil BALD man attractive

lex luthor is not the enigma that he makes himself out to be. in fact, he was easy to read and often put all his cards on the table. he just didn't seem to realize it, like right now.

meteors in smallville were no stranger, but a meteor shower was something else entirely. fire rained down from the sky, and the town you'd grown to love looked like all hell had let loose.

through blurry vision, you could see how fear seized him and worry bled from his eyes. he held you closer to him, but the shift made you groan in pain.

realistically, you knew it was stupid to push him out of the way and let yourself get hurt instead. every fibre of your being screamed in agony, but he wasn't hurt and for some reason, that made everything better.

"tears already, lex? it's not like i'm dead," you managed through labored breaths and a bloody smile.

"now is not the time for jokes," he said, looking around and trying to flag someone down. "you need a doctor."

you coughed and blood spattered against his clothes. "lex," you croaked. "what i need is for my best friend to stop moving around so much so i can finally tell him how i feel."

"no," he shook his head, shakily trying to clean the blood from your mouth. "somebody—i need a doctor!"

you wince at his yelling, and you turn his attention back to you with a gentle hand against his face. "in case i don't make it—"

"no," his voice cracked. "you mean more to me than you know, and i am not going to lose you. you can tell me when you're better."

"i love you, lex."

[vapidmermaid]

No one wants him in the way I want him

[theaawalker]

Hello. I don’t know if you remember but we chatted on your Story :Delusional. I was wondering would you write lex with a male reader?

it’s never been done from what I can see and I had a rather interesting idea for one… it could be done with a woman too but everyone does that so I,d prefer a guy

THE SECRET KEEPER 🧪Lex L.

James had been by Lex Luthor’s side for nearly three years, ever since he’d stepped in to fill the void left by Mercy Graves after her unfortunate accident. Mercy had been a force of nature — calculating, stoic, and unfazed by the world’s chaos. James, by contrast, was softer, a little more fragile on the edges. But in a way, that made him perfect for the role he played.

It had all started when Lex had hired him fresh out of his prison stint. James had seen the offer as a lifeline, a way out of a dead-end life. He’d always felt a kind of kinship with Lex — both had been molded by broken homes, by abusive parents, by a world that seemed to want nothing but to tear them apart. Lex had always been the one to pull the strings, to take control. And James? Well, he’d always been good at staying in the shadows, making sure things stayed just out of view of the world.

Tonight, however, things felt different.

James stepped into Lex's office with a subtle unease crawling up his spine. Lex sat behind his desk, the city lights casting sharp shadows across his face. He was the picture of calculated calm, a man who had always been two steps ahead, always planning for the worst, always prepared for the inevitable fallout.

"James," Lex began, his voice low and purposeful, "please, sit."

James did as told, his heart already racing. He knew that tone. That was the tone Lex used when he was about to drop something monumental.

Lex took his time, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers as though deep in thought. Then, without warning, he reached for the decanter on his desk. "Bourbon?" he asked, his eyebrow raised slightly.

James hesitated only for a moment before nodding. It had become something of a ritual for them, the shared drink after a day of dealing with the madness of their lives. Lex poured two glasses, the amber liquid catching the light as he handed one to James.

"To us," Lex said, a rare, almost soft smile curling his lips.

James clinked his glass against Lex’s, but there was an edge to his smile, a nervous tension that wasn’t lost on Lex. The words that followed would change everything.

"I’ve decided to merge LexCorp with Wayne Enterprises," Lex said, letting the words settle into the space between them.

James blinked. "Wayne Enterprises?" he repeated, trying to absorb the gravity of it. "But… Bruce Wayne’s been missing for years."

"Yes," Lex said, eyes gleaming with something darker, something dangerous. "But his half-brother, Thomas Wayne, has bought the company. He's agreed to the merger. Though…" Lex paused, looking at James with an inscrutable expression, "no one has seen him. Not a single person outside of me and a few of my more trusted associates."

James felt a shiver run through him. "So, what does that mean for us? For LexCorp?"

Lex leaned forward, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the edge of his desk. "It means change, James. Major change. Bruce Wayne's legacy, his wealth, his influence, all of that is now mine, in a sense. But…"

James furrowed his brow. "But?"

Lex sighed and set his glass down. "But this is where I make the hard decisions. James, you’ve been invaluable to me, truly. Your loyalty, your intelligence, your discretion," Lex’s eyes locked with his, intense and piercing, "I appreciate you. More than you know."

James’ heart skipped a beat. It was rare for Lex to say things like that. He was always calculating, always playing the long game. A compliment from him felt like an unexpected gift, but it also came with a certain weight.

Lex’s smile faltered slightly, and his eyes turned colder. "But this is where our paths diverge, James."

A chill ran through James, a feeling of dread settling in his chest. "What do you mean?"

Lex stood and walked to the window, looking out over the city. "I need you to leave for the day. I think you’ve earned it. You’ve been loyal to me, to LexCorp, and now… it’s time for you to rest."

Rest? James couldn’t make sense of it. This wasn’t just a dismissal; it felt like the end of something. He opened his mouth to say something, to protest, but Lex didn’t give him the chance.

"You’ve done enough," Lex said, his back to James, his voice final.

James stood up, hesitating for just a moment longer before nodding, his heart heavy with something he couldn’t quite place. "I’ll be back tomorrow, then."

Lex didn’t answer. He just waved a dismissive hand. And with that, James left the office.

[ time skip ]

Later that night, James sat in his small apartment, staring blankly at his phone when the message came through: Lex Luthor was dead. Suicide, most likely.

It didn’t seem real. The man who had been his mentor, his confidant, the one constant in his turbulent life, was gone. James could barely breathe.

The next day, a new face appeared. Thomas Wayne. The illegitimate half-brother of Bruce Wayne. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with an air of authority that immediately reminded James of Lex. Thomas was also the one now in charge of the merger, having acquired Wayne Enterprises and taken full control.

And that’s how James ended up in the private gym beneath the Wayne mansion, where Thomas was waiting by the pool. Water splashed gently around his ankles as he gazed down at James with a cool smile.

"I often come down here when I need to clear my mind," Thomas said casually, as if discussing the weather. "Sometimes, you need a little space to think, don't you agree?"

James nodded numbly, still processing the bizarre sequence of events. "I… I don’t know what to think anymore."

Thomas smirked. "Understandable. This all must be quite overwhelming." He paused, his expression shifting to something a little more... calculated. "But I think you're starting to understand."

James didn’t respond immediately, his mind still caught on the fact this man was his new boss, replacing Lex Luthor. No one could ever replace Lex Luthor.

"So, what now?" James finally asked, his voice sounding strained, unsure whether he wanted an answer or not.

Thomas walked to a nearby wet bar and began rummaging through the shelves. James couldn't help but feel his curiosity peak. There was something almost hypnotic about Thomas's movements, the way he handled the liquor with an air of casual expertise.

"How do you take it?" Thomas asked without looking up, his fingers grazing the edge of the bourbon decanter.

James blinked, momentarily stunned by the question. It was an innocuous enough request, but for some reason, it made his stomach tighten. How did Thomas know? James had always kept his love for bourbon relatively low-key, a quiet indulgence after long, stressful days with Lex. It wasn't something he shared with anyone, not even with Lex all that often.

"Uh…" James hesitated, his brow furrowing as his mind scrambled for an explanation. "How did you—"

Thomas chuckled softly, glancing up at James with a playful glint in his eye. "I have a knack for details. And I’ve heard that the Luthor family has a very particular taste in their choice of spirits. Let’s just say I’ve been paying attention."

James’ heart skipped a beat. The way Thomas said it—so casual, yet knowing—made something inside James stir uncomfortably. Was he still dealing with Lex, or was this someone new? Someone in control of everything now?

Thomas poured two glasses of bourbon with practiced precision and handed one to James, his eyes never leaving his face.

"To new beginnings," Thomas said softly, his tone laden with something deeper, something James couldn’t quite place.

James took the glass reluctantly, his fingers brushing Thomas's ever so slightly as he accepted it. "I guess this is where I stop asking questions and just... follow your lead?" He tried to sound playful, but there was a crack in his voice.

Thomas smiled, a slow, knowing smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He raised his own glass. "You can ask questions. In fact, I encourage it. But some answers, James, you’ll have to find for yourself."

James nodded, staring down into the amber liquid swirling in his glass. He wasn’t sure whether he felt more at ease or more on edge. He took a careful sip, letting the warmth of the bourbon spread through him, grounding him just slightly.

James watched as Thomas slid a bar tile to reveal a button. Upon pressing it, a stairway opened in the floor, making James step back so as not to fall in. He followed an unfazed Thomas and descended into a hidden lab beneath the gym. The cool, sterile environment was in stark contrast to the warmth of the pool above.

And then James saw it: clones. Dozens of them, floating in large tanks. His breath caught in his throat.

"What is this?" James whispered, his voice trembling.

Thomas smiled as he gestured to the tanks. "These… these are me. I’m not just Thomas Wayne. I’m Lex Luthor. I created these bodies from Bruce Wayne’s DNA and a few others. I used Kryptonian technology to transfer my mind into one of these clones. The life I had before was too dangerous. But now… now I’m starting fresh."

James was speechless. It didn’t make sense. How could this be true? But there was something in Thomas’s eyes, something in the way he spoke that made James feel… certain.

"You’re… you’re Lex," James whispered, the realization settling heavily in his chest.

Lex — no, Thomas — nodded, stepping closer to him. "I’m Lex Luthor. And you’re my secret keeper now, James. I trust you."

The words felt like a weight on his shoulders, but at the same time, they felt like freedom. It was the truth. The one thing that had always been elusive. The person James had known all along, the one he had tried so desperately to protect, had never truly been gone.

Before James could respond, Lex reached out and pulled him into a gentle embrace. A soft kiss pressed against his forehead, and for the first time in a long while, James felt at peace.

"Don’t worry," Lex murmured. "I’ll explain everything. But for now, come with me to dinner. There’s so much we have to discuss."

As James left the lab with Thomas, his mind was reeling. He found himself glancing at the strange, familiar man as he walked beside him, through the mansion corridors all the way to the limousine. There was so much to take in, so much to understand. But one thing was clear: whatever came next, James was in this for the long haul.

And perhaps, just perhaps, this was the beginning of something even bigger.

Thank you to @davrosfan23 for the request! Check out my upcoming high-fantasy series

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[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][crack][fluff][reader's their karma][inc. Michael Carter; Lex Luthor; Clark Kent][Lex is like, a lil' inappropriate but not much][Clark is a meet-cute][drabble][multi-shot]

Interviews have always been Michael's favourite part about being a superhero. Alongside the adoring stares and the lingering touches of pretty journalists, Michael got to partaking in his favourite hobby:

Yapping about himself.

"I've got an interview on Titty Talk." Michael boasts, gloved hands resting on his carved hips, muscles bulging in his freshly dry cleaned suit, smelling like fabric softener and expensive tastes. Golden strands perfectly styled, curtain bangs framing his face perfectly, glittering blue eyes and the rest of the Justice League could swear he wasn't THAT tan yesterday.

"Don't do it." Bruce barely looks up from the computer, gloved fingers flying across the holographic keyboard, Victor standing at his side before grinning down at Bruce. "Nah, Batman. Let him learn."

Bruce let's out a little huff, conceding and internally amused at the fact that Michael would willingly be emasculated on national television, but the twinkle of amusement in his eyes is hidden by his cowl.

Victor glances at Michael, sepia skin a perfect contrast with shiny silver, and he grins, dimples deepening in chiselled cheeks.

"I wanna get one last look before you lose your nuts." Victor snorts.

"She's gonna eat you alive." Barry interjects with a giggle, an apple clutched in his hand.

"No she won't." Michael dismisses them with ease, plopping down into one of the seats at the table and glancing lazily towards where Bruce and Victor are gathering data on the next mission.

"She will." Clark drawls, stepping into the hall with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, worn and half of the Doc McStuffins caricature scuffed away from years of use. "You think I need more than 5 minutes to end a space fight?" He lets out a scoff. "I take a while longer. That way, I'm late to the interview and she doesn't wanna do it anymore."

Clark brings up a hand, a calloused finger tapping his own temple.

"Weaponized incompetence."

"It can't be that bad." Michael huffs.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

"Booster Gold, are you aware that your suit is actually orange and blue, instead of gold and blue?"

This is bad.

This is really bad.

You're giving Michael an identity crisis and he just sat down, muscular hands rub along the bulging muscles of his thighs as he shifts in his seat, gloved fingers interlocked and clasped. And he hums.

"Uh... It was hard to get something accurately gold so I picked this shade. It's bright, it's bold, it's Booster." He gives you one of those dazzling smiles, dimples popping and teeth glinting in the lovely (and flattering) light of your studio.

It's less bright than any other and it makes him a bit more comfortable than he thought light could ever.

"Shein has realistic gold shades."

"Well, I can't buy my hero suit from Shein, now can I?"

"Do you have something against Asian-owned businesses, Mr Booster Gold?"

Michael's mouth falls open. But no. No, he won't get caught off guard by you. He trained for this.

And by trained, he means he took that vigorous pep talk from Victor before coming on here.

It wasn't useful but by God, it was inspiring.

'Don't look her in the eye. She will emasculate you. If you do look her in the eye, she'll take that as a challenge and emasculate you. Don't try to charm her. Play to the audience, not to her. You'll never play to her. Ever.'

Now that Michael's looking back on it....

It wasn't inspiring at all.

That's the kind of advice you give someone who feeds tigers in a zoo.

"Uh, no. I'm just against fast fashion." Michael answers with a smile. "Most of the clothing ends up in landfills, getting burnt and harming the ecosystem."

He's doing good.

He's doing good.

Michael glances towards the clock on the wall and his fist clenches the tiniest bit.

'Jesus fucking Christ, it's only been 3 minutes!'

Michael continues to stare at you as you speak and he's zoning out. He knows he shouldn't but when you're not berating him, you're not half bad.

Pretty eyes that lower to read the questions and notes on the pastel clipboard in your lap, long lashes that flair in just the right ways and perfect, pouty lips that purse when you're trying to come up with how to word your sentences.

No wonder you're so fucking popular.

You're absolutely candid.

You say whatever you want, as soon as it comes to your mind.

Michael shifts in his seat, his impressive height giving him the lovely advantage of catching a glimpse at your clipboard. Only to find the page completely empty, instead, having a little dick drawn onto the page instead.

It's adorable and Michael's lips twitch as he watches you absentmindedly draw the accessories.

A Santa hat, little boots and gloves.

"Give it a belt." Michael hums softly and he watches your hand still, eyes glancing up at him and for the first time ever, he watches the way those eyes fucking shift. And it's like slow motion to him.

Watching the way they soften, the way your lashes fan out so perfectly to frame your eyes. Those pretty, fucking doe eyes.

But it's as gone as soon as it was there, being replaced with the Cunk of superheroes. And you've got that blank, empty stare once again and you shift, crossing your legs over one another.

"Rumour has it, you're in a committed relationship." Your voice breaks the silence in the room, and you lean against the back of your chair, your snowy cable knit sweater looking so cozy and demure against the pastel shades of your seat. "Are you?"

'Finally, a normal question.'

Michael smiles one of those dazzling smiles, letting out a charming chuckle before carding his fingers through his hair and he shifts in his seat, muscular thighs spreading and flexing.

"No, I'm not."

"I can see why." You mutter under your breath and you nearly let out an actual laugh when you watch the way Michael's face falls. Brows relaxing, lips parting just a bit as he stares at you.

You can swear you watch the sparkle leave his eyes.

"Hmph."

That's the only sound that leaves Bruce as he brings his mug to his lips, the bold printed '#1 Dad' hiding the smile that threatens to break his composure.

Costume clad heroes all surround Bruce's seat, multiple sets of eyes locked on the screen, all collectively taking a sip of coffee, each having their own mug.

Each time Diana lifts her mug, the grinning face of Zapp Brannigan peeks at the screen, cocky grin greeting everyone and each time Barry moves to take a slurp, Megan Fox's sultry face makes its appearance.

Barry does a double take, glancing at the mug in Victor's hand before letting out a snort.

"What's with the cup?" Barry snickers and Victor examines his mug. "Dave Chappelle as Batman."

"Is it true that you are a closeted homosexual?" You question with a hum and Michael slumps in his seat, dragging a hand over his features.

Only 20 more minutes, he should be able to soldier through this.

"No. I'm not." He hums. "While I support the LGBTQ community, I'm not a member. I like women."

"Then why don't women like you?"

Michael's trying hard to not quit this interview halfway. He would've done so already if you weren't giving him that face that makes it look like you're asking genuine questions, your face framed by your hair and your eyes wide and expectant.

"Women like me." Michael reassures with a self-assured scoff. "They like me a lot."

"Where are the women who like you?" You question, before glancing around the studio. "Where?"

This is antagonizing and Michael's not kidding when he says he can hear the laughter of the other people who work on the set. Snickers and giggles alike, and brilliant eyes narrow at you when your lips part again.

Michael's expecting a question that would actually make him quit halfway.

But all you do, is let out a sneeze.

It doesn't sound like a cute kitten sneeze, or one of those Disney sneezes. It's masculine and raw, quiet but very clearly happening.

"Bless you."

Michael's voice is a gentle timbre, low and inviting, as he tilts his head as he watches you before crossing his arms across his chest, biceps bulging and flexing with the motion.

And your mouth goes dry.

"We're gonna take a quick ad-break before continuing the rest of the interview." You give the camera a polite and gentle smile, and when the director yells 'cut!', you pull the earpiece out of your ear and you let out an exhausted breath, lips parting to let out a hot puff.

And the lights dim for a moment, before you glance towards Michael, regarding him with a cursory sweep over his body.

Tall, muscular and gorgeous, toned like a Greek God.

"The questions are gonna get worse, by the way." You hum at him, your lips twitching into a grin.

And Michael melts at the sight.

"Yeah, whatever."

Lex understands that he's a very, very bad man.

He does evil things.

But nothing warrants the fact that his new P.A is a complete and total pain in the ass.

He's attempted to fire you 4 times already, but each time, you just come back and he finds you seated in that office right next to his, the glass wall separating the two of you.

The worst part about you, is the fact that you don't even pretend to look busy.

You just... Sit there. Clicking keys and moving your mouth around on that stupid Chicken Little mouse pad.

Lex let's out a breath, steely eyes shutting for a brief moment before he clicks the button on his desk, watching you shift in your seat as you wait for instructions.

"A coffee, please. You know how I take it."

"Your coffee's on the way, Mr Luthor."

You've got such a sweet voice, the kind of voice that he likes having relay his day's schedule to him. Pencil skirt, silk blouse and perfect heels. Sometimes, you wear tailored dress pants and God, it just does something to h—

Lex watches you, his lips parting in pure, unfiltered shock as he watches you pick up the to-go coffee cup on your desk, taking one last sip of your coffee before walking down the passage and you enter his office. Placing the coffee on his desk, and you give him one of those lovely smiles.

"This cup is half." Lex comments, staring at you through his lashes, expression slowly hardening because how the fuck do you have this level of audacity.

"I got you half a cup." You lie. "Call it assistant's initiative to protect your sleeping habits."

"This coffee's cold."

"So you can drink it faster. A chilled coffee for a man on the go."

"This coffee was yours."

"I'm a woman on the go."

Lex has to admit it. You'd make an excellent politician with the way you talk shit so easily, the skill comes to you naturally.

And Lex let's out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Get me an actual coffee."

When you do return with his coffee, steaming and hot in your filled hands. One of those plastic little rowers that they give you to stir your to-go coffee, a doughnut, a plastic container with your pinkie tucked into the hole that pierces the tabs you use to open it up and your car keys between your lips.

You set everything down on Lex's desk, and he lets out a hum.

"Did they stir it?"

And he could actually catch flies with how wide his mouth falls open when you pop off the lid of his coffee, and stir it with your pinkie.

Worst part is, it's the pinkie of the hand that's holding the spoon-thing, and you lick your digit, nodding your head.

"It's good."

Lex tries to make the least use of you through his day, he really does. For fuck's sake, he even went to the printer himself. Ignoring the gawking gazes because why would he have to do menial tasks himself when he has an assistant.

Lex gives a practiced grin to the man in the seat across from him.

A potential client who's been here for exactly 8 minutes and Lex's easy going facade nearly shatters when he hears that beep that indicates you're using the intercom.

"Mr Luthor, your 10 o'clock is here." Your voice is the epitome of usefulness but God, you're the complete opposite. And Lex glances at you through the glass, finding you staring back at him expectantly and he presses the button on his own desk.

"I can see that. Because he's in my office."

Lex's frustration bleeds into his tone, annoyance and seething temper threatening to take him over but he can't get up.

Mainly because your insolence gives him an erection that shames the socialites that Lex usually finds himself alongside in the tabloids.

Painfully aching and dampening the taut fabric of his boxers, but Lex continues the meeting with ease, trying not to glance in your direction as manicured nails tap on the keys of your mouse as you play....

What are you playing?

Stretching his arms overhead, Lex leans back in his seat in an attempt to peek at your screen and he merely catches a glimpse of himself in Sims. The sight which brings a cocked smile to his lips before turning his attention back to the client.

The meeting goes well, exceptionally so and it's only when Lex rises and has his hand gripped in a firm handshake when he realises he's wasted an hour of his time.

"That assistant of yours." He whistles. "I'd love to break her in."

Lex's grip increases tenfold, the veins of his hand and forearm bulging beneath his lightly bronzed skin and he runs his tongue over his teeth.

And he makes a certain tilt of his head that has Mercy peeking her head into his office, monotonous expression indicating that she already knows what her job will be.

"Mercy will escort you to the parking lot." Lex gives a pinched smile.

It's only when Lex receives that simple 'thumbs up' emoji, that he relaxes in his seat, head tipping back and he lets out an exhausted groan.

And he reaches for his coffee, his palm suspiciously cold and he lets out a sigh.

Before taking a drink of your cold, half-empty coffee and being able to taste the hint of your lipbalm on the mouth piece just makes Lex's bloodflow problem so much worse.

And that beep rings out again.

"If you keep having that erection, I'm gonna call HR."

"Blow me."

"Right to HR!"

"What— what is this?"

Clark's eyes narrow at the light being switched on, brilliant blue eyes squinted as he stares at Jon, the boy shifting uneasily on his feet as he stares at his father.

"I have a project due tomorrow." Jon murmurs sheepishly, big blue eyes avoiding the stare of his father as Clark slips his glasses on. He doesn't need them but he likes the feel of something perched on his nose with it's legs tucked nearly behind his ears.

Clark let's out a deep breath, carding thick, calloused fingers through thick, raven strands before he glances at the bedside clock.

"Jon, it's 11. At night." Clark grunts out, shifting beneath the covers and he sits back against the headboard, rubbing his temples with frustration.

A particularly gruelling mission left Clark with a harsh headache, with even worse lethargy to accompany the throbbing pain in his scalp.

"I know, but I forgot but the teacher's mean and I don't want her to give me a 0." With each conjunction, Jon's voice gets weaker, tinier, eyes welling up with tears as he sniffles, balled fist rubbing at his nose and his eyes.

Clark let's out a deep breath. Removing his legs from beneath the thick covers, and slipping on his slippers, heading to the attached ensuite and having his late night pee prematurely. The door's slightly ajar, the light of the bedroom peeking into the bathroom just enough for Clark to see properly.

His headache renders him to the weakest species ever.

Human.

"What's the project?" Clark hums sleepily, his hands underneath the running water before he dries them, shuffling back into his bedroom.

"I can't remember..." Jon mutters, nearly flinching at the heavy breath that leaves Clark. A sigh that only an exhausted and overworked single parent can give.

"What's your teacher's email?"

From: clarkkent31@yahoo.com

Subject: 4th grade project

Good evening, I hope this email finds you well. Apologies for the late disturbance.

I have an enquiry about the 4th grade, class B project.

What is it?

You stare at the email on your screen, letting out a little huff of a breath before answering that they need to make a volcano, seeing as the history curriculum are doing a section on Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii.

Clark let's out a breath, eyelids heavy and the sleeves of his robe are rolled up to his elbows, muscular forearms flex and fingers are covered in translucent sludge as he takes yet another strip of newspaper, layering it one over the other. He glances at Jon from the corner of his narrowed eyes, the 10 year old shifting on his feet, watching as his father completes his project for him.

"Plug in the hairdryer, please." Clark hums softly, watching as Jon basically scrambles to plug in the hairdryer, setting the device on the table and Clark let's out a soft, exhausted breath. Before grabbing the hairdryer, switching it on and blowing the layer dry.

And he stares at Jon the whole while.

The air is thick with tension and Clark purses his lips, occasionally glancing towards the volcano. It's lumpy, conical and it's very clearly rushed, but Goddammit, it's a volcano and that's what matters. He can cover the flaws with black paint and soil.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

You're surprised to see a grown man in your classroom after school, a project in his large, muscular hands, glasses braced on the strong bridge of his nose as he sets it down on the nearest desk.

Eyebags, slumped shoulders and a pointed scowl on his face as he stares at Jon, who simply gives him a toothy and appreciative grin.

"I'm sorry for bringing his project in late. The soil and grass used had ants." Clark states, hands tucking themselves into the pockets of his jeans, fabric stretched taut over sinewy muscles, flannel shirt accentuating the curves of his biceps and his broad shoulders, and Clark's tongue runs over his bottom lip.

Watching as you inspect the volcano, the tip of your pen lifting various (and accurate) plants that litter the base of the volcano, before you nod your head.

It's just a model, but it could be functional if you were to add baking soda. Red liquidy jelly runs down the side of the volcano, mimicking lava and you give Jon a proud smile.

"Good job." And you tick his name off the register, glittery pink pen standing out against the starch white paper and you reach for a sheet of stickers, placing one on Jon's cheek.

A kitty saying 'mewow' and by Clark's surprise, you reach out, placing a sticker on his shirt of a tortoise saying 'you did so shell!'.

"I could tell by the email that you did everything anyway." You give Clark a sympathetic smile, smile lines on your pretty face, hair framing your features so lovely as you look up at him through your lashes.

And placing it on his other pec.

And Clark let's out an exhausted laugh. "Yeah. I did." He hums softly, before reaching out towards Jon, ruffling the boy's hair before snatching his sticker.

"You didn't do shit."

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[arjudy224]

The Intern: Outreach Gala

Another uneventful day for Gotham's environmental intern...

The Intern: Gotham x reader

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern Field Trip

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

Gotham's public library appears unrecognizable under the cloak of night. Broad leaves shroud the outside exterior of the Gothic pillars while ivy cascades down the large door frames. Harris raises an eyebrow.

"How many forests do you think Wayne destroyed in his quest to save the planet?" He questions with a smirk.

Each grey hair is perfectly gelled out of his face. Ditching his glasses for the occasion, Dr. Harris may actually care about tonight's guests. The bouncer outside the door seemed to think the dress code was not a laughing matter.

Taking his extended arm, I roll my eyes. The security guy nods to the two of us as we walk through the door.

"Professor, if you keep saying things like that Gordon's going to question your stances on Gotham's resident Eco-terrorist. " I whisper with a smile. "....but at least 12."

Thanks to the joint collaboration between Wayne Industries, Goth-corp, and the Gotham Department of Environmental Protection. Gotham City is hosting its first Environmental Outreach Gala for the nearby tri-state area.

My heart flutters a little bit as a realization hits me. I’m actually here… surrounded by giants in clean energy and the scientific community alike. Award-winning journalists... All for the future of our planet. Passing my reflection, I smile thinking of how far I’ve come from that little river rat back at home.

A figure in the corner of my eye draws my thoughts away from the Grandma debrief. Dick Grayson, the Billionaire’s son, charms the group of ladies by his side. I take a mental note to find time to talk to him when there isn’t such a big crowd. It's been a long time since we last spoke.

The walls echo with the idle chatter coming from the rich socialites of Gotham. Waiters in tuxedos maneuver silently with a tray of champagne flutes in each hand. Considering, that most environmental professionals wear cargo pants from the early 2000s to work... the dress code was definitely a choice. I scan the room for familiar faces. Gordon flashes me a smile from across the room. I nod back. The Mayor works his way around the room with a large smile. It must be an election year.

My throat gets tight. I'm not ready for this. Looking to my right, I find that Dr. Harris has vanished into the crowd.

"Y/N L/N?" A voice calls distracting me from my nerves.

A well-dressed man strolls over. Something about him puts me on edge. Maybe it's his wicked smile or the large emerald ring on his outstretched hand. He walks with an easy air of confidence.

"Lex Luthor."

My heart does a little tap dance in my chest. The tight fabric of my rental dress makes it hard to breathe. I shake his hand politely. The party-goers go quiet around us. From the corner of my eye, Lois Lane, an investigative reporter from Metropolis, shoves through the crowd. So much for being a fly on the wall.

"I recently worked with a Professor of yours. She had a lot to say about your graduate proposal."

This cannot be happening. Memories of those long fights in the lab flash in the back of my mind. Mr. Luthor's cat-like gaze observes my reaction curiously.

I cover my face in embarrassment. That woman deserves hate mail. I could have at least been asked to type or spell-check it beforehand.

"To be frank, I originally chose the topic to get a rise outta her. Dr. Hendrix had me doing dishes for 3 weeks straight after I accidentally messed up a sample, so I wrote a proposal I knew she wouldn't like."

When I finally uncover my face, Luthor stares down at me with an amused grin.

"Even so. I'd like to discuss potential funding opportunities in Metropolis. If this is something you would think up out of boredom, I'd love to see what you can do when you put your mind to it."

That brings a smile to my face.

"Really? Everyone who I've brought it up to has been apprehensive about researching Kryptionian radiation.

"We need more scientists to ask questions Ms. L/N. Even the ones, that people don't want to know the answer to. "

The sullen green glow draws my eye once again to Mr. Luthor's ring finger... Wait, that's not an emerald. That's Kryptonite.

"Is this a personal interest of yours?" I ask slowly glancing between his eyes and his ring.

"In some ways."

An unspoken conversation occurs when he notices my acknowledgement of his strange choice of jewelry. The silence only creates more questions. Why would you wear something you know is irradiated?

"I hope to hear from you soon." Mr. Luthor concludes after handing me a business card, "There is always a spot at Lexcorp for a future scientist with your talents."

I stand there in silence watching him leave. The sleek modern design of the card lists only the bare essentials: his name, office address, and contact information in silver lettering.

Four hours ago, I was hauling boxes for the decorating committee. Huh. A nearby waiter offers a champagne flute from the tray. Respectfully, I turn them down. This dress costs more than my rent.

“Oh no. Thank you. I am… working.”

"Does work-life balance not apply to interns?” A voice interrupts.

I try not to roll my eyes at the "intern" comment. The constant reminders of my status are getting old. Starting at his perfectly buffed dress shoes, my gaze drags along the fabric of his black designer suit. Dick Grayson sure does like to make an entrance. With his dark curls and friendly blue eyes, his familiar smile knocks over my defenses. Sipping on his drink, he waits for my response with a teasing grin. His energy is contiguous. I ignore his question to ask my own instead.

“Has anyone told you that you tend to appear out of nowhere?”

His striking eyes light up with a mischievous glint.

“You have no idea.” He laughs, "It's nice to see you back in Gotham. It's been a long time."

"It has. From the rumors, you have been up to quite a bit of trouble." I joke gesturing to the envious eyes from across the room.

He raises a curious eyebrow.

“Good things I hope?”

Glancing around the room, I ignore the dozen eyes staring daggers in my direction. Academia can be such a bitch.

“Nothing too crazy: a few murders, unfounded accusations, and you might be an alien?”

Dick grimaces while tilting his head ever so slightly. He swirls his drink, yet doesn't take a sip.

“Sounds about right. Anything you believe? “

I pause... Do I play coy?

“I’m not sure an alien could do a quadruple summersault.”

Something flashes in his eyes that I don’t quite understand. For a moment, I wonder if I should have held my tongue. His suspicion morphs into the first genuine smile I've seen all evening.

“You’ve kept tabs on me Y/N.”

Before I can respond, a scream causes the ballroom to descend into chaos. Vines shoot out from under the floorboards while the native plants start attacking the guest. A woman with flaming red hair paces the floor. Her vines wrap around each person one by one…. A thorny bush springs out of a fallen leaf snagging my delicate rental dress.

Dammit Pamela. We talked about this.

Glancing at the bartender's horrified expression, I frown.

“I change my mind. I’ll have that drink now.”

[skylarmoon71]

Lex Luthor (Smallville) : Short Story - Chapter 1

Usually when you were placed in group assignments, your teacher had a habit of putting you with the popular squad. 

You knew the hope was to get them motivated to do the work, but it always backfired. Because you would do all the gritty work, and they would get equal credit.

It annoyed you to no end. But full marks was better than failing because of the lazy students. That’s why when you heard you were paired with Clark Kent, you prepared for the same outcome. Packing up your stuff, he’d walked over at the end of the class with a smile. Your eyes were fixated on your books.

“It's fine, I'll get it all done. Just make sure you’re on time when we have to present.”

His brows furrowed.

“We’re supposed to work together. I’m not going to let you do all the work.”

For a second you think he’s putting on a show because the teacher is probably lingering. But when you lift your head, the room is cleared and he’s looking at you like a sad puppy.

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Yeah.”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“O-Okay. We can meet at the Talon to go over ideas. I was thinking of maybe a fundraiser since it’s an outreach program. “You suggest.

“I had the same idea. Plus my mom makes awesome muffins. I can get her to bake some and we can work on the fliers. All the proceeds would go to a non profit organization. “

You’re impressed to say the least.

“That’s actually a great idea.”

His eyes light up like a child and you don’t think much of it. You’re just focused on the project.

The following day you both agree to meet up to discuss further. Clark has invited you to his home, so when you show up, you shuffle at the door. After a moment it opens and he welcomes you in.

“My mom just made some pie if you’d like some.”

You decline the offer, raising your head when you meet his parents.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Kent.”

They offer smiles, and for a moment you actually see a bit of resemblance. You know for a fact that they aren’t truly related, Clark is adopted after all. So maybe it’s more their energy that’s similar. The way that their smiles just emit a certain sincerity.

“Are you ready to start the project?”

Clark nods and just like that, you’re excusing yourself. You follow him to the loft, very aware of the little looks he keeps sending you. By the time you make it to the little room at the top of the stairs, you’re laying out your books to get to work.

You turn to Clark to ask what other ideas he has, but he’s much closer, and you run right into him. You grunt at the force, and he grabs your shoulders to steady so you don’t fall. You gather your footing and the minute you’re solid, he releases.

“Sorry about that.”

You can’t help but glare.

“Listen, you don't have to pretend to care. I can just complete this all at my place. I won’t tell the teacher.”

He looks discouraged.

“But I want to help. I’m not pretending.”

You’d like to believe it. His parents are crazy nice and he’s crazy attractive. There’s definitely a catch.

“Is it really that hard to believe that I’d want to work on this with you?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“To put it bluntly, you're a jock. Your type isn’t exactly known for being selflessly helpful.”

“Well I’m different!”

He’s adamant, and he honestly looks kind of cute trying to look angry.

“Really?”

“Yes, I’ll prove it. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it! I’ll do the whole project just to prove it to you.”

His persistence is a little funny, so you decided why not.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.”

You lay out all your plans and for the weeks that lead up, he follows every instruction to the dot. You're being a bit extra with some of the requests.

Like the excessiveness of the flier placement, or the particular table cloth that you insist needs to be part of the whole set up. He doesn’t even complain, you’re not certain he even catches on to what you’re doing, which is hilarious in itself.

The idea is pretty straight forward, so there’s no need for the runaround, but Clark is like a puppy. Given the right instruction he just completes the task.

A week before the actual planning of the event you’re in the loft doing some unrelated homework as you discuss attire for the day.

“So I should get a suit right, should I? I think I should.” He continues to mutter.

He’s pacing as you complete a few of your algebra questions. As he’s making circles into the ground, you cast a smile over.

“Thank you Clark.”

You lower your pencil and he stops in place.

“For what?”

You laugh internally.

“For helping with the project. It’s the first time in a while that I’ve actually enjoyed doing a group project. Especially with a Jock.”

“You keep calling me a jock.”

He mumbles with a small pout.

This time you laugh aloud.

“You’re so different from what I imagined that it’s actually amazing.”

You’re in stitches and Clark’s face flushes.

“Why do I feel like you’re making fun of me!!”

“Because I am!”

You continue to laugh up until the point that Martha walks up the stairs with a slice of pie.

“I thought I’d drop in with a snack, it sounds like you’re both having fun.” She smiles, handing you the plate and you take it graciously.

“Thank you Mrs. Kent.”

“Of course. Thank you for taking care of my son. He’s really been enjoying this project. I think he likes you. “

“Mom!!”

Martha giggles and this time your cheeks flush as she waves goodbye. Once she’s gone, Clark is awkwardly shifting in place. You clear your throat, lifting your chin.

“Don’t go getting any ideas, I don’t date jocks.”

“I-I’m not a jock!!”

You’re once again in a fit of laughter.

Without a doubt, this is the best project you’ve ever done.