#lex x reader

The sentence never makes it completely out of your mouth. 

Lex cuts you off, crushing his mouth against yours, the kiss fierce and suffocating. You taste the scotch on his lips, one of his hands snakes up to your wet hair and tugs. Another hand wanders around to your lower back, yanking your body towards his, the warmth a sharp contrast to the cold glass behind you. 

It’s desperate, intense, and dangerous…

Every instinct is screaming for you to stop, to push away. 

But you can’t. Even if you wanted to. 

Your hands wrap around and grasp his shirt in fists, grounding you because if you don’t hang on, you’ll crumble. 

I hate him! Why am I doing this?

But as Lex deepens the kiss, the reasoning voice inside you vanishes. Rain patters harder on the window outside, helping to drown out your thoughts. 

It’s only seconds till he breaks away, leaving you both panting. There’s a darkened look in his eyes and you swear he’s about to go in again- 

Then, he straightens, snatches his coat from off the chair, and storms away without another word.

You remain, stunned, watching as he disappears down the hallway.

What on earth…

Your eyes drop to his glass perched on the table. You grab it without missing a beat and down the scotch instantly, liquid burning the back of your throat, making you cough a little. 

It’s not nearly enough to make you forget about ten seconds ago. 

His mouth against yours. His hand in your hair, the other wrapped around your waist…

Your fingers reach up and ghost your now swollen lips, then drop to your side. 

Now what?

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The pounding in your head wakes you before the sun does. Your throat burns, your sinuses are clogged to the brim, and every inch of your body aches. 

You roll over, groaning, sheets tangling around your legs. The rain from last night, drenching you, and lack of sleep finally caught up. 

Figures. 

After everything, the interview, the kiss, that you can’t stop replaying in your head, the storm outside, your body eventually betrays you with something as simple as a cold. 

Your phone’s ringer blares out, making you flinch in surprise. You grab it quickly to silence it, and see that it’s Jimmy. 

“Where are you? We’ve been waiting for you to come in!” His voice crackles over the speaker after you answer. 

“I’m-” you cough, and swallow what feels like shards of glass, “I’m not coming in today.”

You can hear him sigh on the other end. “The media is going insane! You can’t just not-”

“I’m sick, Jimmy,” you rasp, hoping that he can hear it over the phone. You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to make the throbbing headache stop. “Unless you guys want me sneezing over all your desks.” 

“Oh. Sorry. Seriously though, what you did last night was crazy. Get better… soon. Like really soon. We gotta talk.” 

“Okay,” you say, but he’s already hung up. 

You drop your phone on your bed and it bounces and thuds on the floor. Great.

The silence in the room calms you, and without Jimmy shouting at you, the throbbing starts to fade…

Until there’s a knock at your door. 

“Open the door,” a voice commands. It’s Lex. Unmistakable. He’s trying the handle, but you locked it before you went to sleep. 

“Go away,” you croak back. 

His feet shuffle away from the door, then approach again, accompanied by the sound of metal against the handle. A key. Good grief. Can this man leave you alone for two seconds?

The lock clicks and you swear under your breath. He opens the door and blinks, as if seeing such a mess isn’t something he’s accustomed to. With a man as organized and structured as him, you wouldn’t be surprised if he covered his eyes. 

His eyes rake over you, taking in the jumbled sheets, your red nose, your flushed cheeks, your legs, bare and hanging out the side of the bed. It’s a harsh contrast to his smooth dark grey suit he was armored with today.

For once, he doesn’t smirk. 

“You look terrible.”

“Thanks. So do you.” 

He furrows his brow at your comeback. You glance down and see that he’s holding… a coffee cup and a paper bag. He sets it on the nighttable by your bed. 

“Can you grab my phone?” You ask, gesturing lazily with one hand. 

He rolls his eyes. 

“PlanetWatch camp is being set up today.” Lex says, tugging at his tie with a sharp, irritated motion. “I was going to bring you along, but seeing the state you’re in, I wouldn’t want any biohazards ruining my set ups.” 

You shift uneasily against the sheets, glaring. “I wouldn’t have come anyways.”

Lex tilts his head like you just said something laughable.

“My boss wants me back at work,” you continue, “I basically have my job back, and better. People actually want to hear from me.” 

His lips curl into a sneer. “No. People may want to hear from you, but that still doesn’t mean you’re safe. You see, last night you exposed that you have knowledge you shouldn’t have. That you’re still close to my operations on PlanetWatch. Enough to make others wonder what else you know. My enemies are far less patient than I am. They’ll come for you, because they’ll believe you’re holding answers that even some of my executives don’t have.”

There’s no mention of the night before. The tension in the room is thick, and you can feel your face burn and heartbeat flutter restlessly. 

You open your mouth, as if to say something, then cough violently into your arm. 

Lex takes a step back like you’re spreading the plague. Germaphobe.

“Stop this,” you whine, meeting his blue gaze. “You don’t have to keep pretending that I’m at risk and need saving.”

For a moment, something flickers in his eyes. A flash of the man who confessed I do care. 

A flash of the man who shut you up by kissing you. 

And then it’s gone. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says cooly. “Last night was a mistake. You are at risk. That isn’t a lie.”

There. You swallow hard, caught between anger and… disappointment. 

Not the mention you wanted, but at least he knew it happened. He wasn’t that drunk.

He breathes deeply, and exhales, calculating his next words. “This is business. My opponents will use you as bait, leverage, a knife to my throat. You think I can just let that happen?”

You avoid his piercing eyes by shifting yours to the wall. 

He drops his head for a brief moment in frustration. 

“I’ll be sending someone to drop off some medication. Take it.” He says finally. 

You continue to give him the silent treatment. 

He deserves it. 

Lex sighs and walks out of your room, shutting the door behind you, leaving you to your sniffling mess. 

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A few hours later, a doorbell chimes throughout the apartment. You sit up in bed groggily, in a half awake, half asleep state. Your phone is still on the ground, and the ice in your coffee has melted, still full. Inside the brown bag was a donut, which you ate before you passed out. 

It was actually really good. 

You manage to stand, holding on to the nightstand beside you to steady yourself, then slowly make your way to the front door. 

There’s a small black box sitting there, LuthorCorp logo emblazoned. You pick it up and inspect its contents, a single pill bottle labeled with a name you don’t recognize. On the back, the label says “TRIAL USE ONLY”.

Great. He wants to poison me.

At this point, your throat is in so much pain that you’ll do anything to make it stop, so against better judgment, you wander to the kitchen, fill a glass, and down one of the pills. 

At first, nothing happens. You can feel the tablet slide down your esophagus, and you make your way to the patio to sit outside and get some fresh air. 

The second you sit down, you can smell the potted flowers to your left, the smoky Metropolis air, the car exhaust, the concrete from below, and even a whiff of the salt breeze from the ocean. 

“How-” you breathe, and notice that the burning in your throat is fading away. 

Where has this medication been my entire life?

In a matter of minutes, almost all of your symptoms are gone, save the occasional trickle from your nostrils, probably left over mucus buildup from laying down all day. 

You’re stunned. Out of excitement, you hop out of your chair and run to your room, grabbing your phone. 

“I’m coming in,”  you quickly type to Jimmy. 

You’ve never gotten ready for work faster. It’s already 3pm, but you want to see your coworkers, especially after last night. 

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You hadn’t even gotten two feet in the door before you were mobbed. Staff clustered around you, voices overlapping, hands tugging at your arms. Somehow, you manage to shove your way through to your desk, but not before Jimmy, Lois and Cat corner you. 

“You’re back!” Cat squeals, blonde hair flying as she throws her arms around you. 

Jimmy follows with a hug of his own. “About time. You had us thinking you dropped off the face of the planet.” 

Lois doesn’t hug you. She just smirks, arms crossed. “You were faking being sick, weren’t you.” 

You laugh nervously. “I uh, I think I slept it off. And maybe took something strong. Whatever it was, it worked” you say. 

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.

Lex is rubbing off on you. 

“Well, you’re trending on all platforms,” Cat chirps, leaning over your chair. “Everybody’s talking about you”

“What was it like at The Sphere News?” Jimmy asks, digging around for his phone. “What was Cleavis like in person?” 

“Are you going to write another article?” Cat chimes in again. 

Their questions tumble over one another until you raise both hands. “Guys. One question at a time before my head explodes.” 

They all sigh in unison but back away from you. 

You glance around the office. “Where’s Clark?” 

They mimic your action, Jimmy turns back and shrugs. 

“I just don’t wanna have to repeat myself, but oh well,” you plop down in your chair. “Where do I start?

Lois takes a step forward, and your pulse quickens. She always asks the hard questions. “First things first. Be honest. Are you working with Lex Luthor?” 

You hesitate. A moment too long. “Yes,” you say hesitantly. “But it’s complicated.” 

Jimmy snorts, failing to stifle a smirk. “Complicated. Uh-huh.” 

You glare. “Not like that.” 

Though the burning in your cheeks betrays you. 

“When I started writing about LuthorCorp, it was just research. I had a leak, someone feeding me information. Then… he pulled me in. Said if I wanted facts, I should see things firsthand. That’s all.” 

Lois narrows her eyes. “So you were his mouthpiece.” 

“No, I’m not,” you retort sharply. “I don’t print what he wants me to. I print what I see.” 

Lies. 

“That’s a thin line you’re walking,” Lois mutters. “And you know it.” 

Jimmy’s eyes shift between you and Lois, and cuts in before you start arguing. “PlanetWatch. What’s the big deal about it?” 

But before you can answer, your phone buzzes against the table. You glance at the screen. 

Your stomach knots. You practically have his number memorized now. 

You answer it cautiously. “Hello-”

His voice comes over, commanding, but smooth. “Enough chit chat. I’m waiting outside. We’re going on a field trip.” 

Click. 

Lois raises her brows even more skeptically. “That was him, wasn’t it.” 

Grabbing your bag, heart thrumming. “Sorry. Gotta go.” 

You push your way past them, feeling slightly guilty for not staying. You show up, give them partial lies, then head out. You’d be surprised if you’re not fired soon. 

But based on your conversation earlier with Lex, this is PlanetWatch camp related. 

And you’re dying to know more about it. If the stolen documents had the truth. How the military is cooperating with LuthorCorp. If those Raptor suits were being made. 

Your heels click rapidly down the hallway and into the elevator. You hurriedly tap the bottom floor button, and then frantically the close door button, avoiding any more contact with people. 

The usual black car idles by the curb. As you approach it, the driver steps out and opens the back door, allowing you to enter. 

Lex isn’t inside the car. 

And part of you is… disappointed. The other part is relieved. The driver says nothing to you as he pulls away, leaving you in the near silence of the vehicle. 

It’s a brief ride. 

You were right, as the car slows, you look outside to see the beaches of Metropolis. A portion of the beach is roped off, and you can see little black tents scattered around. 

“Mr. Luthor is waiting,” the driver speaks up. You nod once, slipping out of the car and intuitively following the narrow path that cuts toward the shore. 

The wind carries grains of sand across your ankles, and the hush of waves grows louder. Each step sinks into the soft ground, your heels are useless. With a frustrated huff, you slip them off, holding them loosely in one hand as you continue barefoot across the cooling sand. 

Ahead, the glow of floodlights washes over the scenery, casting a blue glow that contrasts the setting sun over the tents, silhouettes of soldiers and LuthorCorp technicians moving briskly between them. 

One tent flap stirs, and Lex ducks out. 

This must be what he was referring to when he said he was "waiting outside." Not waiting outside The Daily Planet, but waiting outside Metropolis.

He straightens the instant he sees you. For a moment, he doesn't move. Just watches, shoulders squared, stern look on his face. 

When you’re finally within earshot, the tension in his jaw breaks into a devilish grin. 

“Welcome to PlanetWatch camp.” 

CHAPTER 10

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Adjacent to the note is a familiar cup, an iced coffee, like the ones that he’d give you at your regular meetings. 

Just the way you liked it. 

Was he trying to win me over in some sick, twisted way? Getting me my favorite coffee again, making my guest room perfect before I even arrived…

You crumple the note onto the table, but pick up the coffee and take a sip. 

It’s the worst internal battle you’ve had. Yes, you may hate Lex’s guts to the moon and back, but you can’t help but notice evidence of something human inside him, something that bleeds out of the cracks once in a while, and is evermore noticeable now that you’re closer than ever to him. But it’s shoved to the side by his own ego, his self serving attitude to get what he wants, when he wants. 

The clock reads 8:54AM. As much as you didn’t want to see Lex and you were quite enjoying the peace of the morning, there was a stab of curiosity of what he wanted from you next. 

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The moment you enter his office, the mood shifts. 

“Glad you found my note.” 

You roll your eyes. “You left it… in my room.” 

He grins. “Your room, at my place?”

You cross your arms, ignoring what he was putting down. “You know, you could’ve just texted me.”

“Where’s the charm in that?” Lex leans back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “Besides, I wanted you here, early.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why?”

His smile sharpens. “Because we’re making our next move.”

You wait, warily. “Meaning?”

He gestures to the monitor on his desk, the logo of The Sphere News emblazoned across the screen. 

Your stomach twists.

“No.”

“Yes,” he counters, standing up. “You’re going to sit down with Cleavis Thornwaite tomorrow night. The public has questions about you. Your credibility, your relationship to me, your so-called ‘fall from grace.’ While they’re distracted on whether you’re trustworthy…” His eyes glint mischievously. “…I’ll be three steps ahead.”

You furrow your brows, but keep your tone even, with a false tone of curiosity. “Three steps ahead how?”

He sighs and tosses his hands in the air. 

“Let’s just say, the military’s been dragging their feet on PlanetWatch. After tomorrow, they won’t be.”

You frown. “So I’m your diversion.”

“You’re so much more than that, you’re my proof.” He says, walking closer to you. “Lex Luthor isn’t the mysterious corporate shark that people think he is. You’ll clear your name.” 

“People won’t believe me,” you interject. “They already think I’m a sellout. What makes you think they’ll believe what I say after you’ve been on the show a dozen times?”

“Because you’re not me. That’s the point.” 

You blink, and he continues. 

“People expect me to lie. That’s why I’m putting you in the chair instead. You’re the ‘rouge journalist.’ The one who doubted me before anyone else did. The one with nothing to gain standing by my side.”

He pauses, studying your face, letting the weight of his words sink in. 

“They’ll start to believe you,” he continues. “Because you were dragged in the mud for your work. And no one in their right minds will think you’d willingly align with me, unless it was truth.”

You uncross your arms, clenching them in fists at your side, letting your nails dig into your palms. “And if I refuse?” 

Lex smirks, anticipating your response. “Refuse? And go back to your little apartment, unprotected. Within a week, those men in grey suits won’t just be following you down the produce aisle, they’ll be dragging you into vans. You’re still a target. You’re still associated with me.” 

He closes the distance between you, voice low now. 

“Or… you can walk into that studio tonight and remind the world exactly who you are. A journalist. Unbought, credible. You tell them you’re independent, everything you’ve published was true, and they’ll listen to every word. That gives you leverage. Us leverage.”

You swallow, heart sinking. Most of what you’ve published is true. But is purposefully leaving out details, details that you know about, true?

He watches the gears turn in your head. “The choice is yours. You’re familiar with the public, they’re fickle. They’ll flip on the smallest word. This-” he points to the notecard in your hand, “might be your chance to claim them back.” 

You lift your chin, defiance sparkling behind your eyes. “Fine.” 

His lips curl in satisfaction. He wins this one. 

As you turn the prompt card over in your hand, the words blur, already twisting into something else. Because if Lex Luthor thinks you’re going to be his naive mouthpiece… he’s underestimating you. 

You smile faintly to yourself as he walks away to his desk again. 

Let him think he’s in control. For now.

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The air in the studio feels significantly colder than outside. 

Producers holding clipboards pass by you, conversations clipped and hurried. Microphones squeak on and the lights hum as the main stage is prepped for tonight’s live interview. You.

A makeup artist passes a fluffy brush tipped with powder across your forehead as you watch the scene, trying to take in every second. It’s overwhelming, and you can’t imagine doing this for a living. 

“We’re live in five,” says a loud voice over the speaker system. People start running back into the dark, and you’re escorted into the spotlight to the sofa on the right side of the stage. 

Your pulse is racing. Sure, the idea of Cleavis Thornwaite drilling you on your relationship with Lex is terrifying, but that’s not the main reason why you can feel a droplet of sweat roll down your spine despite the arctic room. 

No. It’s the thought that somewhere, out in the maze of Metropolis, Lex Luthor is watching you. Ready to hear you say the words that he’s scripted out for you. 

You spot teleprompters on the ground by your feet and next to cameras pointed in your direction. Everything you say is rehearsed, deliberately written to paint Lex an honest man. Transparent. Visionary. And you’re just an independent journalist trying to make her mark in the world.

The back of your throat as the clock directly above you counts down, and Cleavis steps up to his chair. He nods, knowingly at you, and for a moment you think, is he backing Lex too?

“And live, in three, two-”

The lights shine even brighter, nearly blinding you. 

“Good evening, Metropolis! Tonight, we’re joined by a journalist who’s been at the center of controversy ever since her reports on LuthorCorp surfaced. You all know her by her pen name, Harper McNeil. Welcome to The Sphere News!”

The show’s theme song plays, and the cameras point to you. There’s an audience in the far back of the room, and you can’t see them through the shadows, but you can hear their applause.

You force a polite smile, eyes shifting to the teleprompter and back to Cleavis. 

“Thanks for having me,” you say softly. 

Cleavis leans forward and clasps his hands together. “Let’s get right into it, Ms McNeil. The question on everyone’s mind. Are you working for Lex Luthor?” 

The script rolls: I’M AN INDEPENDENT JOURNALIST-

Screw it. Screw Lex Luthor.

“No.”

Cleavis blinks, realizing that you’re not following the script. 

“You really want the truth?” You turn and face in the direction of the audience. “Lex Luthor gave me these lines.” You point to the prompter. “Every single word… is his.” 

Gasps ripple through the studio. Everyone is stunned. 

“Wait, are you saying Mr. Luthor is controlling the narrative of your reporting?” He’s quick, but looking nervously at some producers standing to the side. 

Time seems to slow down. “No, I’m saying he’s tried. But I’ve been writing about LuthorCorp long before I met him, and I’ll keep writing whether he likes it or not. He doesn’t own me, or my pen.” 

To your shock, the audience bursts into applause. Cleavis raises a hand, attempting to control the interview again. 

“Are you suggesting that Mr. Luthor is lying or has something to hide?”

There’s a panicked producer trying to wave you both down to stop, mouthing the words “CUT TO BREAK”, but the cameras are still rolling. 

You take a breath. 

“PlanetWatch. Ask him about it. Why projects are buried before they’re finished. What the true purpose of it is. How large he’s planning on scaling. I’ve seen the documents, or at least… I saw them before they vanished from my desk.” 

The audience gasps again and you can’t help but grin mischievously. A heated murmur rolls through the crowd. 

Cleavis clears his throat and looks directly at the main camera. “Well, there you have it. This is certainly… a bold testimony from Ms. McNeil. We’ll be back right after the break.” 

The lights dim and you exhale, listening to the audience as some cheer, other booing demanding answers. 

Cleavis snaps back to you. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he hisses. 

“Real journalism,” you shout over all the chaos.

Cleavis leans in one last time, voice low enough for only you to hear. “You think you exposed him? Lex is untouchable. You’re not. You just put a target on your back.” 

You shrug and stand, brushing off your skirt. “I’m used to it.” 

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It’s almost 2am. Reporters held you back at the newsroom for hours after you were on air. They pestered you with questions, comments, and cameras. You’re certain you’ll be plastered all over the internet tomorrow. 

You hadn’t thought too much about the repercussions of throwing Lex under the bus, you were just desperate to get back at him publicly after embarrassing you in front of your coworkers, manipulating you to write his narrative, and dragging you around, making people doubt your credibility. 

A storm rolled in during the night, and although you had been escorted by Lex’s drivers, you still got soaked on the way out of The Sphere News and walking up to Lex’s penthouse.

On the drive back, you had a moment to scroll on social media, and to your amusement, the reaction to your words is mostly… positive. 

People compliment your boldness. Your candor. Some call you fearless. Others call you unconventional. 

You even get a text from your boss, Perry, telling you to come back to the Daily Planet as soon as you can. 

You arrive at the top floor of the building, heels drenched, hair dripping slightly, and a tightness in your chest. Half of you is burning with pride, that you finally got some truth out in the past few weeks, the other half is petrified, anticipating Lex’s response.

As you trudge through the penthouse front door, you peel off your wet heels and let your feet land softly on the pristine floors. 

You stop in your tracks when you see Lex, lounging in a chair facing the windows, looking out at the darkened night sky, flickering periodically with lightning. 

There’s a crystal glass balanced delicately between his fingertips, and he’s rolling the amber liquid around slowly. 

“You went off script.” He remains seated, unmoving. 

“I was being honest. You should try it sometime.”

He sets down the glass hard, rises to his feet, and turns to you. He’s discarded his jacket and his tie is loosened around his neck. You’ve never seen him this unraveled before. Your heart stammers, seeing a new side of the typically professional Lex Luthor. 

Lex just… watches you. His expression is unreadable. His eyes trace your wet hair down to your bare feet. Uneasy and unsure of what to do next, you walk up to him, folding your arms. As you near him, you see dark circles under his eyes.

Is he… drunk?

You talk, in attempt to fill the void. “What? Don’t tell me I offended you. Embarrassed you. If anything, your empire will save you and you’ll be back to doing what you normally do in a few days, making business deals, creating sources of power and control in governments and militaries, but you know what, Lex? All you were doing was saving your own reputation, at the very expense of mine-”

You take a step forward, toe to toe with him now. His silence is infuriating. “Did you ever think of that? You don’t even care for me at all-”

Lex grabs you by the arms and pushes you towards the windowpane behind you, pinning you against the cold glass. 

A flash of lightning illuminates his face, putting his angry features on display. His hands grip your arms tighter, holding you in place, but you’re frozen in shock. 

“I do care.”

The words come out, ragged, raw, like he’s been holding them back for too long. 

And that’s when it hits you for the first time. 

Oh. 

CHAPTER 9

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You hadn’t taken your eyes off him. Guess he noticed. He keeps his eyes trained on the street in front of him.

“How did you like the taste of the spotlight?” For a minute you think he’s mocking you, but he’s grimacing, and there’s a hint of candor in his tone. 

“Can’t stand it. That’s why I used my pen name in the first place,” you respond. 

“Everyone wants fame. Everyone wants to have all the attention. But there’s a price.” 

You furrow your brows. “This is different, you know that-” 

And then it hits you. “You wanted me to be seen with you, didn’t you? That’s why you put me in that dress and had me tag along to your stupid press conference.” 

His grimace shifts into a sly smile. “You learn so quickly.” 

You want to jump out of the car and roll on the streets of Metropolis and get run over by a car. How could Lex be so selfish? And annoying?

“I’m done.” 

Lex finally looks at you for the first time in the car. “Done?” 

“I’m sick of your games. I’m tired. My pen name and my own name are ruined, thanks to you. I’m done working with you.” 

The car slows to a stop at a street light. He turns to face you completely now, a red glow casted on his face hauntingly. 

“You’re not safe anymore. Even if you did try to go back, people at the Daily Planet won’t trust you anymore. And I have enemies that will track you down and try to use you as leverage or pry information out of you.” 

His words sting with truth. Amidst all this confusion, lies, hiding, control, you can’t help but accept that truth. 

“Okay, so?” you say slowly, looking out at the city as the light switches to green and he accelerates the car. 

“You’ll stay at my penthouse-” 

“What?!” You blurt out, cutting him off. “Are you out of your mind?” 

He sneers. “Don’t worry, you won’t be sharing a room with me, I have a guest room.”

“I wasn’t- I didn’t think-” you stammer, feeling mortifyingly flustered by the thought of sharing a room with Lex Luthor. 

“No! I have my own apartment,” you finally manage through gritted teeth. 

It’s dark outside, thankfully to conceal the flush crawling up your face. 

“People will stalk you, harass you, and maybe even physically attack you. You’ll see. Just let me know when you change your mind.” 

The car slows to a stop, and you realize he’s driven you right to your apartment. 

Did he know I wasn’t going to accept his offer? Is this another tactic to manipulate me more?

“I have some things to take care of in the next few days. A few business deals along with acquiring a couple companies. Thankfully Harper McNeil is out of the picture for now so I can get some work done, but we’ll have her back in the spotlight in no time.” 

You gawk at him. The car door clicks open. 

“So what am I supposed to do? Just sit around until you want me back to torture me again?” 

“No. Just try to stay alive. I think I enjoy your presence more when you talk back. A cold body isn’t fun to argue with.” 

And with that, you lurch out of the passenger seat and slam the door, harder than you ever have before, listening to its echo down the neighborhood. 

He sees your glare through the tinted window and drives away, a smug look spread across his face. 

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You barely sleep that night. 

Every click, tap, passing of a car, neighbor’s voice through the walls, you name it, keeps you on edge. 

By the morning, you look dreadful, and not even a cold shower and first cup of coffee wakes you up enough. 

You sit in your apartment, debating on your day. 

You could stay here, wait out Lex’s schedule, until he wants you back again. But you worry about being cornered in your apartment, and you’re terrified to be left alone. 

Or you could go to work, see how people treat you, maybe try to write something. 

Or figure out how to redeem your name. 

Hmm…That seems impossible at the moment, and you spend a while trying to come up with a plan, but… nothing. 

Off to work.

It’s almost the afternoon by the time you push through the revolving doors and make your way to the elevator. You had tried to get more sleep and weigh your options and you ended up losing track of time. You keep your head down the whole way through the bullpen, avoiding eye contact with anyone around you. 

You’re nearly to your desk without any interaction when - 

“Hey, you’re back. Everything okay?” 

It’s Perry, and your palms are already sweating, trying to figure out how you’re going to navigate the day. 

When you turn to face him, he actually looks… concerned. An unusual look from your boss. 

“Perry, It’s been hell. Things aren’t as they seem.” 

“You mean to tell me it’s not a coincidence that you happened to be at some military base and just ran into Lex Luthor?” 

You inhale sharply. “Um, no. He… asked me to come with him.” Hurry, think fast. “I started writing some articles a while back about LuthorCorp. He figured he wanted me to get more real insight rather than speculating and misinforming people… so I went. I took my own notes, wrote the article myself, and it’s based mostly on facts.” 

“Mostly?” Perry asks incredulously. 

You tilt your head and scoff a little. “Hey. We’re journalists. Truth can be subjective. Plus, it’s Lex Luthor. He probably wants some things hidden.” 

He waves a dismissive hand. “You’re right. But people are worried you’re just getting fed information. They think Harper McNeil is a liar and sellout. What are you going to do about it?” 

“Keep… writing?” You shrug. 

His eyes dart around the room and then leans in closer to you. “I’m sorry, but frankly, I’m not sure I want anything published by you, or your pen name right now. It might hurt the credibility of The Daily Planet. It’s not personal - actually it is personal, but let’s give it a few weeks for things to calm down online and then maybe we can figure out what you can do…” 

“Perry, you can’t be serious, it’s not that big of a deal-” 

He gives you a sorry look. “Take some time off. Revise some of your peers' articles. Use your vacation days. I don’t know what else to tell you.” 

And with that, he turns and chases down another journalist, leaving you hopeless at your desk. 

Jimmy wheels over. “Hey.” 

You grunt at him and plop down in your chair, pouting. 

“Wanna read my latest?” 

“No.” 

“Sorry I asked. What’re going to do?” He says. 

You throw your hands up in the air in frustration. “Why does everyone keep asking me what I’m going to do? I don’t know!” 

Jimmy doesn’t respond, and instead, scoots his chair back to his desk, giving you a nervous side eye on the way back. 

Lois doesn’t talk to you. Clark gives you a weak smile from over his cubicle, but doesn’t approach you at all. 

Great. I have no friends. 

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You glance at your small grocery list on your phone as you step out of the building. 

After a long day of checking emails, clicking arbitrarily on the screen, revising a few intern’s articles, a bunch of useless work, the most interesting thing right now is restocking on a few fridge items that you were out of. 

You spot a familiar store on the corner across the street, and you make your way over, hurrying and avoiding gazes and apprehensive looks from people around you. Maybe you’re just being paranoid, but you swear you spot someone taking a picture of you from across the street. 

In the hustle of the city, you fail to spot two men in grey suits, who looked at each other when you left the Daily Planet, and began to walk towards you. 

Right as you’re reaching for the last coffee creamer on the top rack, you feel a presence behind you. 

“Harper McNeil-”

You yelp and almost drop the bottle, whirling around, gasping. The two men tower over you, wearing sunglasses to conceal their identities. 

“We’d like a word with you.” The one on the right says. 

“I’m- sorry, I’m a little busy,” you stutter, wanting to turn away, but you’re frozen in fear. 

These aren’t Lex’s men. They’re probably some pawns from a rival corporation. 

“We know you are working closely with Luthor. We just want to ask a few questions," Lefty says. 

You glance around, looking for some aid, but the dairy aisle is vacant, save the three of you. 

In a split moment, you drop your shopping bag and start to bolt for the exit, but one of them reaches out faster than lightning and snatches your arm, stopping you dead in your tracks. 

“Let go of me!” You yell, yanking your arm, but it’s no use. 

“Maybe Luthor will come rescue her,” Righty sneers, with crooked teeth, to the other. 

They instantly let go when a stranger rounds the corner. Guess they’re worried about being caught too. 

With the distraction, you run away, and they follow you afterwards, walking briskly to keep up attempting to stay inconspicuous.

Lex was right. I’m not safe at all. 

The bell on the grocery store’s door rings loudly when you step outside. You stuff a hand into your bag and pull out your phone as you continue to walk, luckily losing the two grey suited men in your pursuit through the crowd of people. 

You call a number you never saved. 

The dial tone stops. 

“Hello-” 

“Help-” you immediately cut off the voice on the other end. 

“Ready to take my offer?” 

“Oh for heaven sakes, Lex! I’m being chased!” 

Silence. 

You look at your phone, realizing he hung up on you. 

“Dammit!” You’re just about to hurl the phone onto the ground. “Useless piece of-” 

A black car flashes up to the curb beside you. You recognize it from your 5pm meetings. 

“Hallelujah,” you gasp, and hop in, flopping into the backseat. After a few seconds gasping for air, the car lurches forward, speeding off down the street. 

You manage to sit up after catching your breath. 

“Where are we going?” The car isn’t driving towards LuthorCorp tower. You’d recognize the route. 

“Lex’s apartment,” the driver says in a low voice. 

“No, take me home.” 

The driver turns around and lowers his glasses. “Trust me, if Lex wants you somewhere, you go. That chase back there? That’s just the start. And if I had to guess, there’s going to be people waiting at your apartment too.” 

The driver has never said more than a few words to you, but now every sentence sounds like a warning. 

You sink back into the leather seats. “So that’s it? I don’t even get a say.” 

He doesn't respond. Just faces the road again in silence, merging into traffic seamlessly.

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Lex’s penthouse sits closer to the edge of Metropolis, near the ocean, but still surrounded by other skyscrapers. You’re escorted in by the driver, and the elevator ride up only takes seconds, though it feels like an eternity. 

You brace yourself to be in the CEO’s presence again, but when your driver unlocks the front door with a key, it opens up to a dark apartment. 

When you step inside, automatic lights glow on, illuminating the large space. 

It’s more museum than home. Expansive windows that go from the floor to ceiling allow you to see the view of both the dark sea and the twinkling city lights around. There’s not a lot of color, mostly whites, blacks, and grey, but there’s a few accents of green. The floors are so clean that they glisten. You take note of the simple yet ornate kitchen, an expansive dining area, a surprisingly cozy looking sitting room with TV and couches, and a hallway that led to the rest of the place.

The driver doesn’t follow you in. He just stands by the door for a moment, then leaves without a word. 

You make your way down the hallway, moving slowly to not trigger any alarms or something. 

Then you see it. The guest room, the door ajar. 

Against your instincts, you push it open and gasp at the sight. 

The room is perfectly arranged, waiting for you. A rack, already stocked with clothes in your size and styles, with a few pieces similar to the thing you already own and a few that look more luxurious than you’d ever buy yourself, sits at the far side of the room. A vanity is set up with your preferred skincare brands. In the corner on a small table, a coffee maker with the exact beans you buy. 

You stop in your tracks, stomach twisting a little. 

This wasn’t thrown together last minute. No. It’s been waiting for you. He’s been planning this. 

Your chest tightens. You should feel furious, manipulated, terrified. And you do, but under it all, there’s a flicker of relief. 

For the first time in days, maybe even weeks, you’re not listening for footsteps or noises outside your door or looking for shadows following you home. 

You don’t even make it past the bed. Your bag slips from your hand to the floor and you collapse onto the pristine bed. The sheets smell faintly of vanilla and lavender. 

You take a deep breath in and your eyes flutter shut before you can even stop yourself. 

Because for the first time in what feels like forever, you finally sleep. 

CHAPTER 8

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