I just wanna say as someone who is in a lot of fandom, like through out my life im very thankful to all of the creative and amazing fanfiction writers in every fandom. YOU GUYS MAKE MY DAYYYY and helps in unwinding in this veryyy stressful life of mine so...SENDING HUGS AND KISSES TO ALL FANFICTION WRITERSSSS
Pairings: avatar! Lyle Wainfleet x fem mangkwan! Reader
Summary: quiet tension turns into certainty as unspoken feelings finally surface, pulling them together.. where jealousy fades, closeness deepens, and everything narrows the pull between them.
Warnings: weapon use, fluff, slow burn undertones, sexual content (oral sex fem!receiving , p in v) possessive/dominant behavior, jealousy, intense physicality… let me know if i missed anything!
Notes: i was quite literally racking my brain on how to write a part 2 for you guys but after multiple naps… I got it done yay! I’ve never written smut before so i hope you enjoy and ty for reading! BTW not proofread!
His thumb lingers at your jaw,rough and careful all at once, as if he’s reminding himself where he is.
Outside, laughter rises.. feet pounding the ground, voices lifted in a song.
“You know,” he murmurs, almost amused. “Back on base, this isn’t exactly the regulation.”
You huff softly, tail flicking. “Good thing this is not your base.”
That earns a quiet chuckle from him.
The sound vibrates through his chest, through you.
He leans back just enough to really look at you now.
Paint on your fingers, ash smudged along your cheek, eyes bright.
‘pretty’ he thinks.
Silence settles, heavily. Not awkward.
Outside, someone shouts his name, calling him back to the fire, to the cheers, to the role he’s been playing all night.
He exhales slowly, glancing toward the hut entrance before looking back at you. “They’re gonna notice I’m gone.”
You lift your chin. ‘’ then go. Let them see you.”
He squints. “Barely covered and painted?”
“Yes,” you say, without hesitation. “Let them see who fought with us.”
For a moment, he studies you. Really studies you, then nods once. Decided.
“Alright,” he say quietly. “But you’re walking out with me.”
His hand finds yours, firm and grounding. When you step back into the firelight together, the clan notices instantly. Cheers get louder, drums picking up, eyes drawn to the red paint streaked across his skin and the way you stand at his side like you belong there.
The night stretches on, thinning the noise until it’s just fire.
🐾
Sunlight filtered through, dappling the forest floor gold and green as you darted through the roots and ferns, bow held tight in your hand, heart hammering with excitement as birds scattered every step.
Lyle’s heavy footsteps pounded behind you.
“You will never catch me’’ You called, tail swishing like a whip, your laughter spilling through the forest.
You veered around a crooked tree, expecting him right behind you but silence answered.
No footsteps. No breathing, just rustling leaves.
“Lyle?” You whispered, scanning your misty surroundings. “Where are you?!”
Before you could react, a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.
“Caught you.” Lyle murmured behind you, breath warm at your ear.
“You skxawng!” You shriek.
He grinned, unapologetic. “You run like prey.”
Your ears flattened. “ i am not prey.”
He set you down carefully, giving you space but keeping the teasing glint in his eyes. He tilted his head, amused. “Could’ve fooled me.”
That did it.
You step into his space. Chin lifted, eyes wide.
“you think that sneaking up on me makes you skilled?” You challenged. “You rely on strength and noise. That is all.’’
His smiled faded just a touch. “You saying I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“I am saying,” you said slowly, circling him, eyes sharp. “ that you would not last one hunt without a gun… and that is embarrassing.”
He turned to track you, jaw tightening. “Careful, darling.”
You stopped in front of him, close enough that his chest rose inches from yours.
“Let me teach you,” you said. Not a question. A dare.
He scoffed. “Teach me what?”
“The way of the bow,” you replied coolly. “A hunters weapon. Not your metal toys. Mine.”
“I don’t need-“ he started.
You cut him off, stepping closer. “ you do. And you know it.” Your fingers reached out, tapping his chest once.
“You chase well. You fight well. But you do not listen to the forest. I do.”
Something conflicted flickering through his eyes. “And why would i let you?”
Your lips curved. “Because you want to see if i am right.” A beat. Softer, quieter. “And because you do not like to be challenged”
He eyed you for a long moment. Then, reluctantly, “one lesson.”
You smile, victorious. “Good. Za’u!”
You lead him deeper into the trees, movements fluid, confident.
When you stop, you hand him your bow.
“First, you need to learn how to hold it. Relax and grip the string lightly.” You say, firmly.
He exhales, trying to mimic your instructions.
You roll your eyes but can’t stop the grin from forming on your lips.
Sliding your hands over his, correcting the angle, guiding his fingers along the string.
“Here,” you sigh, “your fingers must curl over the string like this. Not stiff. Like this.”
You step back to give him room before huffing. “Your stance.” You say, shaking your head. “It is all wrong. You are stiff, like a tree.”
You step in front of him and gently place your hands on his hips, guiding his weight. “Feet should be shoulder width apart and back should be straight. Balance your weight evenly, do not lean too far forward or back.”
He lets out a soft laugh, but you ignore it, slipping your hands up to his shoulders adjusting them.
You examine his stance, and hiss lowly as you smack his elbow up, straightening it when you do.
“You must stay straight , chest open… yes, just like that. Now feel the forest under your feet. Let it support you, not the other way around.”
“Draw,” you murmured. “Ki’ong”
He did, bowstring trembling.
“Stop flailing.” you scolded softly, fingers grabbing his wrist lightly to steady him. “Breathe.”
He exhales sharply, draws the string, and lets the arrow fly. It whistles through the air… and clatters harmlessly into the underbrush.
You huff a laugh, tail flicking.
“kanfpìl, try it again.” You gesture toward the bow.
He draws another arrow, slow, calculated this time. Your hands hover near his, almost brushing. The arrow shoots forward. Thunk. Right into the center of the tree.
You gasp softly, tail curling in delight, and step around to face him.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” You repeat the saying, you’ve heard him say many times before.
His chest rises in a proud breath, eyes sparkling with accomplishment. “Looks like someone’s a good teacher.”
You grin, brushing a strand of hair from your face, tail flicking in amusement. “I am just getting started.” you tease, stepping back slightly to give him space, eyes locked on his as you encourage him.
And so it goes, shot after shot, laughter, teasing, and the subtle brush of closeness.. him shooting arrow after arrow, you guiding, correcting, and enjoying every single second of making him learn…. all while the forest sun beams down on the two of you.
🐾
The village was loud with evening life.
Children darted between huts, elders talked low near the fire. You were weaving through it all, distracted, until a familiar shape caught your eye.
Lyle.
He stood near the central fire pit, laughing. Actually laughing. His shoulders loose, posture open, her hand brushing his arm as she spoke, tail flicking with interest.
You stopped a few steps away, watching just long enough to understand what was happening.
He wasn’t encouraging it. His hands stayed to himself. His attention drifted, gaze lifting as if searching.
Then his eyes found you.
His expression shifted instantly. Relief first. Then something warmer, gentler.
“There you are,” he said smiling like he’d been waiting.
The woman followed his gaze and turned, her eyes sliding over you, judging.
Her hand didn’t move from his arm.
You stepped closer.
“I was looking for you,” You said calmly, though your ears had angled back.
The woman cut in. “We were just talking.”
Your gaze shifted to her at last. Cool. Unblinking. “I was not speaking to you.”
Her ears flicked back slightly. Her hand still lingering on his bicep. You glanced at it.
"Step back," you said.
The girl's ears flicked, eyes narrowing as she looked you over. "I was speaking to him."
"And now you are speaking to me," you replied. "Your hand has no reason to be on him."
Her tail lashed once. "He did not move away."
Lyle blinked. "I didn't realize—"
You didn't look at him.
Instead, you leaned in slightly toward her, voice low and sharp. "Because he is polite. I am not."
Lyle stepped away from her. “I should go,” he said, firm now.
“Already?” The girl frowned.
“Yes, i will talk to you later.”
Your eyes snapped to him as he spoke. “You will not.” You snarl, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away. “Za’u.”
he didn’t argue.
You pulled him through the village, past curious glances, past whispers.
“Where are we going?’’ He questioned, stumbling behind you.
“my hut,“ you said, simply.
That got his attention and he let himself be dragged.
You didn’t stop until you were inside your hut, pushing aside the woven entrance covering and turning toward him the second it closed.
“You let her touch you.” your head tilted.
His lips twitched. “I didn’t even notice.” He said honestly.
You scoff softly, a sharp little sound in your throat. “ you did not notice,” you repeat stepping closer.
“I was waiting for you.” He says, no excuses, no defensiveness. Just the truth.
You plant a hand flat against his chest. “Then why did you let her stand so close?” You asked quietly.
His jaw tightens, not annoyed but focused.. “because I didn’t think it mattered.” His eyes dip to where your hand presses into him.
“Srane, it matters.” You murmur, leaning in, your breath brushing his mouth without touching it.
You guide him backwards without force. He lets you.
He lets his calves hit the edge of the furs.
Let’s himself go down on to them with a quiet exhale, eyes never leaving your face.
You climb over him slowly, straddling his thighs, knees sinking into the soft pelts.
You hold his gaze, hands sliding onto his shoulders. “You let her think she had a chance.” You hummed.
He laughed softly, shaking his head, his hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing warm lines along your ribs. “I like that you didn’t.”
Your lips curl into a small, satisfied smile.
You shift your weight, letting him feel it, letting him feel you. Your fingers trail up his neck and onto the base of his kuru, your hand wrapping firmly around it.
You pull, he grunts.
You tilt his back just enough as you dip down, lips ghosting his jaw, his throat.
“do you want me?” You ask quietly.
Not playful. Not teasing. Real.
His answer is immediate. His hands tighten on your waist, grounding you. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.’’ He says low.
“Say it,” you murmur, hand sliding down his kuru. “Say it so I do not have to wonder.” Your eyes meeting his.
His forehead presses to yours. Noses nearly brushing. His voice drops, rougher now. “I want you.”
Your lips part slightly. “Then.. take me,” you whisper, voice trembling with desire.
His eyes darken, and without breaking eye contact, he leans closer. Slowly, he reaches behind his head, and then you feel it… the delicate, electrifying brush of his neural tendril against yours.
Tsaheylu.
A jolt runs through your body, your skin tingling, nerves alive in a way that no touch alone could achieve.
Heat blooms in your chest, spreading through your limbs like fire. Your tail curls, gasping softly as his tendril entwines with yours.
His hand finds your jaw, gripping lightly. “You feel that?” He murmurs, low and rough. “It’s just us… no one else.”
The connection hums between you, every heartbeat amplified, every breath shared.
His hand tightens slightly on your jaw, tilting your face upward, lips grazing yours.
“Oe-yä,” he murmurs, teeth grazing your bottom lip in a teasing bite.
His thumb drags across your cheek, then slides down your neck, resting at the base of your throat, squeezing lightly.
He growls low, lips brushing your ear. “You’re mine, nìftxav nga oe!”
“Yours.” You nod, tongue dragging along your bottom lip. “i am yours.” You breathe out.
His hand moves from your neck down to your waist, carefully changing positions, grounding you.
The firelight dances across your skin, throwing shadows over the furs, over him, over the places where your bodies brush.
Tsaheylu thrums between you, vibrating through every nerve, every muscle, every pulse of desire.
He leans in again, chest pressing heavier into yours, his tendril tightening around yours as if drawing every ounce of your attention.
You feel him everywhere all at once.
the subtle curl of his fingers at your waist, the steady weight of his body pressing yours to the furs, and the bond that hums and writhes like a living pulse.
You arch into him, pressing harder, letting your hands roam freely across his back, clawing, feeling the taut lines of muscle.
His lips trail down your jaw, over your neck, teasing your pulse with his fangs, brushing, claiming, drawing a quiet shiver from your throat.
Your hand finds the nape of his neck, gripping lightly, pulling him closer, letting him know that you want him to take the lead, that you crave this full, unrestrained intimacy.
He lowers his mouth to your chest, peeling your top off with his teeth.
His lips teasing, teeth grazing, sucking lightly, marking.
You press your hands into his shoulders, tugging him closer, feeling every line of muscle beneath your palms, every subtle twitch as he grinds his hips lightly into yours.
thighs parting instinctively as he slides lower, palms brushing along your sides, hands tracing the curves of your hips and stomach.
Lips move lower, brushing your hipbones, teasing along the sensitive skin, each touch pulling little moans from your throat.
His hands slide up your thighs, fingers brushing along your skin until they reach the knots of your loincloth.
The loincloth falls away, pooling on the furs beneath you, and he doesn’t hesitate.
His hands grip your hips, steadying you as he lowers his face, lips brushing the sensitive skin along your inner thighs, leaving a trail of little wet kisses.
A low growl hums through him.
He lowers his head between your thighs, exactly where you want him and the first touch of his tongue made you arch off the fur with a cry.
He pauses, “Fnu,” he grins, eyes locking on yours, filled with desire before he licks a slow stripe up your cunt.
You hiss softly, tilting your head back.
he licked and sucked on the sensitive bundle of nerves and his thumb slowly circled the little nub with the same focused attention he brought to everything.
Your hips lift, He groans, and presses his large hand flat over your lower stomach, keeping your hips down against the furs with firm, commanding pressure.
you came with his name on your lips.
He kissed his way back up your body as you came down from the high, his lips glistening with your release, and when he kisses you, you could taste yourself on his tongue.
“kalin,” he moans into your mouth.
“Ma’ Lyle” your hands find the ties of his loincloth, and you felt him tense, his breath catching.
“are you sure?" his voice was strained.
“I want this. Oel ngati sivi.” You say quietly, with certainty.
he dipped his head down, towards the dip between your neck and collarbone, pressing soft kisses along your skin.
Slowly he pushed forward with a loud groan. “Tse ‘ekxin.” his face contorting with pleasure, the stretch was intense.
When he was fully inside of you, he stilled, breath ragged, letting you adjust the size of him.
He moves slowly, biting down on your shoulder, gently.
"more," you gasped, your leg wrapping around his waist, trying to pull him deeper.
his hand slides under the back of your thigh, placing your leg over his shoulder, pounding relentlessly.
The new angle has you moaning out before they get swallowed by his mouth.
“Fnu,” he says again, breathlessly against your lips, grunting above you.
His lips move against yours with what feels like desperation, your lips part in response, allowing him to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.
His hips snapping against yours at an abnormal pace. “Ma’ muntxate”, his thumbs splayed over your hips to keep you pinned, your moans grow louder a mix of pleasure and surrender.
Your hands clutch him, dragging him closer and a breathless hiss of your name escapes his lips, loud and unrestrained.
The hut is alive with your moans, hisses, every brush of skin against skin, every press and tug amplified by the neural connection, until the world beyond the hut is nothing.
His hands slide along your thighs, gripping lightly, pulling you flush against him as he thrusts.
“oh fuck,” he grunts in your ear, his hand clasped over your mouth, muffling you as you cry out.
Every nerve in your body screams, every heartbeat pounding in sync, every pulse of tsaheylu making it impossible to resist, impossible to think… only to feel, only to melt into the heat, the possession, the intimacy of him.
Summary: You run into the man you'd thought was dead for the last 16 years. Life's a bitch that way.
Word Count: 914 words
Warnings: blood, canon typical violence, death threats
A/N: This is the first chapter in my Miles Quaritch x SullySister slow burn fic. Twill be angsty, slow burney, fluffy, and so not even close to canon. Basically this is the closest to canon the fic will be, after this it's my chaos story. Hope you like it!
Main Masterlist
Chapter 1
Even with over a decade of relative peace and serenity within the Omatikaya Clan, you couldn’t help feeling off. Life had been good. Jake, your brother, was Olo’eyktan, leading the clan out of despair and into their new home in the Hallelujah Mountains. Him and Neytiri were so in love and had welcomed your nieces and nephews, all adored by you.
You’d been accepted into the clan alongside Jake, having proven yourself over months and battles. You cherished the new life you lived. It was beyond anything you ever imagined on Earth. But every once in awhile, the felt a shiver down your spine, the hair on your tail would puff, and your ears would flatten against your skull. Jake brushed it off as you still getting used to your heightened senses. But you knew. Something was coming.
The kids always thought when they left High Camp that they were alone, able to run around as they pleased. They were too young to realize that you shadowed each move they made, always watching. Your brother and his mate had many responsibilities within the clan to keep them occupied and you enjoyed being the protector of their children.
As their younger sister, you were never able to protect Jake or Tommy, even though you wished you could. This was your way of repaying them for all the times they looked after you. And it helped you really loved the kids.
This particular day, Lo’ak was leading his siblings deeper into the forest. Eventually, they arrived at the old research station where you and Jake had taken your last stand to protect the people. It’d been years since you’d seen the station and it brought a flash of memories back.
The twang of Neytiri’s bowstring as it loosed one arrow, then two. The metallic hiss as a blade soared through the air. The crash as the AMP suit hit the ground.
You watched the kids from your perch high in the canopy. You didn’t fault them for their curiosity. They knew what this location meant and it’s importance to their Father and Aunt.
What they didn’t realize, and neither did you, was the predators waiting in ambush.
CRACK
Your ears twitched back, tail curving up at the noise. Eyes alert and bow taut in hand, you surveyed the area. At first, you couldn’t see anything, but slowly you saw them. Blue bodies dressed in fatigues carrying metal guns, and heading directly for the children.
Pressing the comms unit at your throat, you shot a look toward the children who were none the wiser. “Neytiri, Jake, we have company at the old station. At least 8 RDA soldiers. Avatar’s maybe? I need backup,” you said as you surveyed the soldiers below you.
“Shit. Copy, we’re headed your way,” Jake said.
“Give us as much time as you can,” Neytiri said, anxiety laced her tone.
“Affirmative,” you stated.
Quietly, you lowered yourself toward the ground right as the RDA soldiers ambushed the children. Screams and snarls rang out, making your blood boil. If they hurt one hair on any of the children’s heads, Eywa help them.
You needed a plan and fast, but before you could formulate anything solid, the kids began to cry out.
Bow drawn tight, you ran into the clearing, “STOP,” you snarled at the soldiers.
The leader looked up from Spider, locking eyes with you. “Well shit,” you said. It couldn’t be him, he was dead. You know, you saw it, did it. He’s dead.
But no, he was right in front of you, that shit eating grin stamped across his now Na’vi face.
“Let them go now,” you said.
“Now why would I do that,” Quaritch chuckled.
“They’re just children you asshole,” you spat. “Haven’t you ruined enough lives already.”
Quaritch startled. Your voice, it was too familiar. As if you knew him, or the him from before. His head ticked to the side slightly, slowly appraising you. The shit eating grin on his face grew and you knew he knew.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Quaritch scoffed. “We’d assumed you died.”
“Trust me, the feeling is mutual here,” you snapped back.
Eyes not leaving yours, Quaritch addressed his team, “we got quite the package deal here. Sully’s kids and,” he said gesturing toward you, “his own sister. Ain’t that nice.”
You hissed at him. “I won’t ask again, let them go.”
“You know darling, I don’t think I will,” he smirked.
Jake’s voice crackled through your comms, “We’re here.”
TWANG
Your arrow loosed as another soared past your face and into the soldier holding Kiri. All hell broke loose as the soldiers began firing randomly into the trees, attempting to hit an assailant they couldn’t see. You ran into the fray, grappling the nearest soldier and embedding a knife into his chest.
Grabbing the nearest child, who happened to be Lo’ak, you shoved him away from the fight.
“Get your siblings and run,” you shouted at him. He nodded, running toward Kiri and Tuk.
Ducking and weaving through the fray, your blade sang between each soldier until a weight slammed into you.
Stunned and breathless, you turned toward your attacker. “Can’t have you killing all my soldiers, darling,” Quaritch said.
You snarled, jumping up and running for him. The knife barely missed his neck as he dodged the blow. His arm came up to block the next blow while the other slammed into your face, snapping your head to the side. Mouth tasting of metal, you reeled back and spat.
“Ha that’s right, not so tough now,” he snarked.
“I’m gonna put you down again,” you snarled.
Laughing he dodged your next blow. Back and forth you went, the fight seeming to last an age until a sharp whistle broke through the noise. Jake and Neytiri had the kids and were retreating.
Ducking under Quaritch’s next punch, you slid the blade through the skin on his side while positioning yourself behind him. One more move and he’d be dead again, but the soldiers were regrouping and one was already aiming for your head.
Turning fast, you leapt into the woods, vanishing before their eyes.
Quaritch pressed a hand to his side, coming away bloody. A snarl curled his lip, watching you vanish into the forest.
“What’s this?” he mutters, barely glancing at it, too busy skimming the numbers glowing on his tablet.
“My two weeks' notice.”
His expression sours as he slowly lowers his tablet. You already know you’re in for a lecture, a tirade, but soon you wouldn’t have to hear another one of those again. Not a peep. It’d be someone else’s problem.
“I’m… you’re what?” he forces out through gritted teeth. You hadn’t seen him this mad in a while. And when Lex is really mad—when he’s quiet, seething beneath the surface—he’s like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
“I don’t think you need me to repeat—”
“Do you have a death wish?” he cuts in, voice low and deceptively calm.
Or
After everything he's put you through, you've finally had enough of Lex Luthor. So you finally give in and quit him and your job. But Lex won't give you up that easily and is determined to bring you back to him.
Tags/Warnings: 18+ Explicit Content, oral sex, kneeling, teasing, meeting the parents, Lex being a little shit, power dynamic, face slap
WC: 3.6k
A/N: I got a lot of requests, so I finally wrote a part 2 to Hell on Earth (linked below), hope you enjoy :)
Part 1 | Part 2
***
It’s been two months since you and Lex started sleeping together, and you can’t take it anymore.
Sure, he’s good in bed, and the sex is addictive, but the possessiveness and constant surveillance have been working your last nerve.
The last time you tried to go grocery shopping by yourself, a car pulled up, scooped you inside, and dropped you straight at his penthouse, where he was waiting on his couch like a king on a throne.
"Who told you you could go grocery shopping?" he reprimanded. Then he went through your bag, questioning all your choices, threatening to get you a dietician since you’re “incapable of making good choices.”
All because you bought a packet of Oreos.
In some ways, this was worse than the yelling you were used to as his assistant, because it was now all too personal.
It’s pretty clear that he’s even trying to move you into his place. The comments and digs aren’t exactly subtle.
“That shoebox you live in is an embarrassment,” he’d scoff. Or, “If I had to live in your apartment, I think I’d actually lose my mind,” he’d remark casually, all the while absentmindedly tracing patterns on your skin with one hand, scrolling through quarterly reports with the other.
Sure, it wasn’t the biggest apartment, but it was yours. Cosy, private, and charming, just as the real estate agent said when they were showing you the place. And most importantly, it was not his.
Which led you here, and now. Finally, at your wits’ end, you are more stressed than ever. Every facet of your life was Lex, Lex, and more Lex. No dental plan, no chauffeur, no designer wardrobe or charity gala swag bag was worth the psychological breakdown looming on the horizon.
You slide a piece of paper across his desk and wait for the chaos to unfold. Today might be the day you find yourself by one of the creatures he has in his labs and torn apart.
“What’s this?” he mutters, barely glancing at it, too busy skimming the numbers glowing on his tablet.
“My two weeks' notice.”
His expression sours as he slowly lowers his tablet. You already know you’re in for a lecture, a tirade, but soon you wouldn’t have to hear another one of those again. Not a peep. It’d be someone else’s problem.
“I’m… your what?” he forces out through gritted teeth. You hadn’t seen him this mad in a while. And when Lex is really mad—when he’s quiet, seething beneath the surface—he’s like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
“I don’t think you need me to repeat—”
“Do you have a death wish?” he cuts in, voice low and deceptively calm.
And oh no. He was smiling now.
A terrible, razor-edged thing you’d learned to spot back when you were just his assistant. The rule was simple: avoid him at all costs when he was smiling while mad.
The last time you saw that smile was just last week, come to think of it. A board member he’d been talking to was taken to the pocket universe prison so fast it made your head spin.
He stands up, invading your personal space, his presence overwhelming. “Why are you doing this? It makes no sense. You have a stable job with benefits and perks and—” He trails off, not saying the obvious: “you have me.”
If only he knew that was the biggest issue.
“I woke up one day and realised if I didn’t quit, I’d be doing coffee runs until the day you die.”
“The day I die?”
“Realistically, the day you die is the day I’ll be free,” you say, letting a chuckle slip. Clearly not the best timing for humour, because if looks could kill, your head would be splattered all over his very expensive mahogany desk.
***
It's been a month, and you're unemployed.
Unemployed but happy.
You’ve gone home to your parents to lounge around and recover until further notice. Leading up to your departure, he had already started to bombard you with gifts and thinly veiled threats to lure you back to work and his bed, so this seemed like the best course of action.
The last two weeks of work were enough to dissuade you of ever crawling back to him, though. He was very dedicated to making them a living hell. Well, more than usual.
You had never been called an idiot so many times in such a short span of time.
Though if anything, it only made you more determined to leave. You managed to help train up a replacement and free yourself from Lex Luthor’s grip. The next poor sucker didn't know what they were in for. You’d miss your little midnight rendezvous, sure, but no dick was worth this.
He had you running up and down Metropolis, errands piling on top of one another like some sadistic obstacle course. He was back to his old ways before all the great sex. And you knew exactly what it was.
Lex Luthor doesn’t lose.
He didn’t want to relinquish the power he had over you.
And maybe you deserved more than just being a pawn in his game.
As you ponder life and all things good from your place on the couch where you’ve hardly moved from all day, the doorbell rings.
“I'll get it,” you chirp in a sing-song voice.
Skipping over to the door, expecting the mail or maybe a delivery you forgot about, you swing it open without a second thought.
You open the door with a lazy smile, only to be met with your worst nightmare.
It cannot be.
You must be dreaming.
“Lex,” you spit out like it hurts.
“Let me in,” he demands, but you stand your ground. Your legs might be shaking a little, but you’re strong enough to tell him no.
“Fuck no! Don’t you have important things to do? Like ruining lives on a global scale?”
“Sure, I do, and yet I’m here to see you, in the little hovel your parents call a home.”
“Lex—”
“I’d hate to see it reduced to ash. Let me in.”
He moves forward, but you throw your arm out, slamming your hand flat against the other side of the doorframe. The crack of skin against wood startles even you. From the way his eyebrows raise, he’s surprised to see you acting like this. A month away from him has done wonders for your self-confidence.
“You’re not setting foot in this house. How did you even find me here? Have you been tracking me?” you sigh, already knowing the answer.
Lex smiles thinly, like a predator humouring prey.
“Find another hobby. Can’t you busy yourself with trying to kill Superman?” you continue.
You push harder against the door, trying to slam it shut, but his foot wedges in the gap like iron. No matter how much pressure you apply, the door doesn’t budge.
“How rude,” he drawls, as if this were a dinner party you’d just spoiled, not a confrontation on your parents’ porch. “I send you wonderful letters and gifts, and you can’t even acknowledge me?”
Wonderful letters and gifts?
Diamond earrings paired with “Stay, or I’ll personally oversee the slow, public death of your once-promising career – Lex” wasn’t exactly what you’d classify as wonderful.
You're about to unload a year’s worth of resentment and humiliation when a softer voice breaks through the tension.
“What’s all the trouble?” your mother asks gently from behind you, the floor creaking as she steps closer.
“It's nothing—”
She forces her way past, eyes widening as she recognises him instantly.
“Isn’t this that Lex…?”
“Luthor,” he finishes with a charming smile.
“That’s it! Lex Luthor, you used to work for? Oh, come in!” she beams, her voice full of that natural hospitality you’d prayed she’d put on pause for once in her life.
“Mom—” you protest, but it’s useless. She’s already ushering him inside with all the excitement in the world.
“Honey, it’s Lex Luthor, from the TV!” your mom shouts down the hall to your dad, who’s in his recliner, flipping through a book.
“It’s who?”
“I said, Lex Luthor from the TV!”
You feel your stomach twist as Lex steps over the threshold, triumphant smirk tugging at his lips. He doesn’t even need to say it. You’ve already lost the first battle.
***
You’re stabbing your food with a fork, the tines squealing against the plate, as you watch him charm your parents with his easy smile and too-smooth words.
“What a fine daughter you have raised,” he says warmly, like he hasn’t just threatened to burn the house down an hour ago.
“Well, she turned out fine, considering she was such a hellraiser as a kid,” your mom laughs, glancing fondly in your direction.
“Is that right?” Lex asks, turning that pointed look on you, the kind that strips you bare in front of everyone at the table.
“She was a menace,” your mom continues, oblivious. “You should’ve seen the way she would ride her bike around the neighbourhood, even caught her trying to take off the brakes. In fact, I think I have pictures. Go get the photo album, honey.” She nudges your dad, who’s already rising from his chair.
Your chest tightens like a vice. This is spiralling.
“This is wholly unnecessary,” you cut in sharply, your voice carrying a brittle edge. “Mr Luthor is a busy man—”
But Lex leans back in his chair, spreading his arms in mock leisure, that smug half-smile playing on his lips.
“On the contrary,” he says smoothly, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve cleared my evening.”
You grumble to yourself, but it’s overlooked by your Dad, who brings out the photo album.
If you could burrow into the ground and stay there, you would.
“Doesn't she look cute?” your mom coos at the picture of you dressed like a ladybug for a school play, not one of your finer moments in life. All the while, you can feel Lex’s presence; he’s eating up your embarrassment like it’s a five-star meal.
“Isn't it a shame our little angel is single?”
“Dad—”
“She is pretty and smart and…can cook a mean lasagna. Are you perhaps single yourself, Mr Luthor?”
You wanted to scream. Were your parents really that desperate to get you off their couch that they'd offer you to a billionaire?
Lex chuckles, that smooth, amused sound that somehow manages to be both flattering and unnerving.
“Well, I am single,” he says, looking at you with a spark of interest that makes your skin prickle, “but I didn’t expect matchmaking to be on tonight’s menu.”
Your mom beams, and your dad claps him on the back like they’re old friends.
“That’s not a no,” your mother nudges you, making your eyes close in frustration. If only she knew.
“It is nice to have an intelligent conversation with one of your friends,” he laments before turning to Lex to embarrass you further, “Her last boyfriend…not exactly a mental giant.”
“Dad!” you scream so loud the whole neighbourhood might have heard it.
“Well, it's the truth, you like them dumb.”
***
After enduring embarrassment after embarrassment, you pull him by his sleeve, dragging him into your childhood bedroom, away from your parents’ oblivious chatter. His arm resists just enough to be difficult, but not enough to stop you.
“Careful,” he drawls, tugging his arm free with deliberate slowness, “the cufflinks I’m wearing cost more than your house.”
“I need you to go,” you snap.
“When we’re having so much fun?” he mocks, pressing a hand dramatically over his chest. “Not to mention your mother is about to break out the apple pie.”
“You called my parents’ home a hovel,” you bite back, eyes narrowing. “I would think you’d be trying your best to get out of here.”
“Oh, but why would I?” His voice drops low, conspiratorial, leaning in close enough that you can smell the faint spice of his cologne. “This is the perfect opportunity to find out all the little details about my favourite little employee.”
“Former employee, don’t forget that.”
He sighs, like your protests were a mere inconvenience to him, and drifts his gaze around your room. It’s a claustrophobic nightmare, posters lining the walls, a medal here and there, notably none for first place and all gathering dust. He picks up a framed photo of you, the sight of your smiling face making him feel unreasonably annoyed.
“What do you want then?” he counters smoothly, tossing the photo on the floor. You scramble to pick it up, but he continues with his little sales pitch. “We can… negotiate. Money? A promotion? I’ll increase your salary, just come back to work.”
You laugh, bitter and sharp. “Money? After everything you put me through?”
His smile doesn’t falter, though his eyes glint with something darker. “So what, then? You want me to suffer? You want me on my knees?”
The words hang between you, too heavy, too intimate. He sees the flicker cross your face. Curiosity.
And then he’s actually lowering himself, sinking to his knees, his expensive suit creasing against the worn carpet.
“Stop,” you whisper harshly, panic fluttering in your chest. “We’re at my parents’ place—”
“Not until you agree,” he cuts in, commanding even from below you. “Dinner. Tomorrow night. My place.”
You hear your mother’s cheerful voice drifting from the living room. “Pie’s ready!”
Your pulse hammers in your ears. “Get off your knees,” you hiss, glancing nervously toward the kitchen doorway.
But instead of obeying, he takes your hand in his warm grip. “Not until you say yes.”
You can feel yourself thawing despite yourself. The absurdity and, more importantly, the sheer power of seeing Lex Luthor on his knees for you and all people. It rattles something loose inside you. He looks so damn good.
Thighs gift-wrapped in those suit pants of his, tie loosened, shirt clinging to his biceps—it should be a crime to look so good in black.
“Please…”
Please? You’re not sure if you’ve ever heard him say the word please, and mean it. Unless you’re thinking about one of the many times you messed up at work and he said, “Please, remind me why I hired you—to spout bullshit in my face? Honestly, you’d function exactly the same if I gave you a lobotomy.”
So, the word please didn’t come easily to Lex Luthor. It cost him something, you could see it in his eyes, and it made you feel things you thought were long buried.
“Fine, fine,” you mutter, giving in just to end the madness. “Just… get up.”
His smile is slow, triumphant, as he rises to his full height, towering over you again as if the kneeling never happened. He leans in, but stops just short of kissing you in classic Lex fashion.
“Don’t be late.”
***
Against your better judgment, here you were. Back at his penthouse after only a month away from him. You would kick your own ass if you could.
But you also knew if you went back on your word, he’d probably do a lot more than crash a family dinner and charm your parents into wanting him as a son-in-law.
So you obliged, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t be difficult.
You pick at your food, swirling it around the plate as he asks you questions, which you only give one-word replies to. The sooner he gives up, the sooner you'll be back in your pyjamas, with all the Oreos you can eat, far away from him.
“You’re not going to eat? I flew the chef out just so they could make your favourites,” he says, with a smile, though you can see how annoyed he is underneath it all.
“Not hungry. Your presence is a natural appetite suppressant.”
“How can you treat me like this? I mean, your parents love me. More than the usual brain-dead idiots you’ve brought home before.”
You slam your fork down, the sharp clang ringing through the otherwise elegant dining room, and give him a glare that would work on most people.
“They don’t know what you really are.”
“Which is?”
“A serpent.”
“How biblical.”
You let out a huff and shake your head. For someone so smart, he could be so impossibly dense.
“Even now, you don’t seem to understand why I left. It’s not about money, or power, or your reputation. It’s about respect. You were running me into the ground, and then the moment we started having sex, you started taking over my life.”
His smirk falters, the mask slipping just a little. “That’s not—”
“It is,” you snap, cutting him off before he can spin it into one of his charming half-truths. “You weren’t just my boss anymore, and it wasn’t just sex. I became your project, and it was exhausting. I mean, I like getting degraded as much as the next girl, but…,” you trail off, looking out the window.
The city lights blur into memories, long nights spent together, the quiet frustration of always chasing his approval; in fact, he had just fucked you against that very window five weeks ago to prove a point. What that point was, you can’t remember, but that’s how it always is with Lex’s rants.
“How can I fix it?” he asks, as he leans towards you.
Your eyes snap back to him.
Was he…cooperating?
“I don’t need you, but…I’d prefer to have you back.”
He sounded sincere. You didn’t know he could do that. Must be a new update to his operating system.
“You can’t just ‘fix’ me like a problem on your desk, Lex,” you say quietly.
“I’m not trying to fix you,” he replies, voice softening. “I want to fix us, and believe it or not, I miss having you around. The new assistant is twice as incompetent but not nearly as entertaining.”
“Almost a compliment,” you murmur.
“And not nearly as beautiful,” he adds, taking your hand and brushing a kiss across your knuckles.
Your heart jumps in your chest, “I’m not that easy to win over.”
“Let me try.”
***
You were breathless and aching before you could even think. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he lavished you with kisses. Stripping one another of your clothes like you were running out of time.
Though if you were going to be honest with yourself, some part of you wanted this. The confrontation, the drama, the final word.
“Looks like nothing’s changed,” he sneers, eyes raking over you. “Still as desperate for me as ever.”
Something downright primal overcomes you, and before you can stop yourself, your palm connects with his cheek. The sound cracks through the room.
You see it instantly, the flicker of disbelief when he turns back to you slowly. The look on his face is delicious: pure shock laced with something darker. His eye twitches once, a dangerous tell. Never in your life did you think you’d slap Lex Luthor in the face. You certainly didn’t expect to still be standing after doing it.
“Did you just—?”
“What are you going to do about it?” you shoot back without hesitation. Your heart is hammering, but you won’t let him see it. This is a rare opportunity, and you’re going to use it to the fullest.
“You want me back, don’t you? So…”
You square your shoulders, puffing out your chest with fake bravado, meeting his gaze head-on like you’re daring him to make the next move.
“Get on your knees.”
He smirks, but gets on his knees regardless, pulling your legs to the edge of the bed to rest on his shoulders.
“How much have you missed me?” you ask.
“Enough to behave,” he says, eyes locked on yours, “and that should terrify both of us.”
He tugs down your panties to reveal your soaked pussy. If you were being honest with yourself, you got wet the moment he kissed your hand.
“Looks like you missed me too.”
“Not as much as you missed me,” you snap back, refusing to look away.
“Debatable,” he chuckles, even though he knows damn well just how much your leaving inconvenienced him, professionally, personally, maybe even emotionally, though he’d never admit it.
Before you can fire back and continue your verbal sparring, he shuts you up with his mouth. His tongue toying with your clit as he starts finger fucking you, not holding back in the slightest.
You don’t manage to bite back the whimper in time. Fuck, you’d forgotten how good it felt.
“Lex…” you moan, as you tighten your legs around his head, almost forgetting he needs to breathe. A few moments later, he forces your thighs apart and looks up at you, breathing heavily.
“You’re about to suffocate me. Do you want me to die?”
“Kinda.”
“Unbelievable,” he scoffs at you before going back in for another taste. Something tells you he didn’t mind it as much as he let on.
***
Lying in bed together after a long, restless night, your head resting against his chest, maybe you were fooling yourself, maybe you really were doomed to be dragged into Planet Lex’s orbit. But right now, the tension that usually crackled between you felt a little less sharp, a little softer.
“So you’re coming back to work?” he asked, voice deep and almost comforting.
“For now. With a pay rise and some of those perks you promised. Like you said, or I’ll quit again.”
“Okay.” He sighed, running a hand along your outer thigh.
“Oh, and no more showing up at my parents’ house. I won’t tolerate that. It’s all about boundaries, Lex.”
“I understand,” he agrees all the while gritting his teeth.
“And no more coffee runs to Jitters. You always make me throw it out, and it’s so wasteful.”
“Alright.”
“And I swear, if you hack my smart fridge again—”
He shuts you up with a kiss, all smug and unapologetic, like it’s the perfect way to dodge accountability.
Summary: Lex Luthor forbids his usually obedient housewife from decorating their penthouse for fall, so after two weeks of her quietly ignoring him, he finally gives in and lets her decorate—with limits—leading to a relieved, fluffy reunion.
Word Count: 1,126
All Dividers in each story this month are by: solitary-serendipity 🤎
read my other flufftober stories here | Flufftober 2025
You should have known better than to bring it up during breakfast—Lex hated distractions when he was reading reports. Still, you’d been feeling restless, craving something cozy to soften the sharp edges of the penthouse. Cinnamon candles, soft throw blankets, maybe a few garlands and pumpkins… something warm to make fall feel real instead of a date on a calendar.
“I was thinking,” you began, carefully slicing into your toast, “maybe we could decorate a little for fall? Just the living room, nothing crazy—”
Lex didn’t even look up from the holographic display hovering above the table. “No.”
Your fork paused. “No?”
“It’s a ridiculous idea,” he said, as if swatting a fly. Tone flat, final. Eyes still focused elsewhere.
You blinked, the smallest sting landing right behind your ribs. “Ridiculous?”
He finally glanced at you then—brows lifted, vaguely amused that you were surprised. “This is a multi-million dollar penthouse, not a craft store.”
Your shoulders fell before you could stop them. “I wasn’t going to glue glitter to the windows, Lex. Just… some fall accents. You know, to make it feel cozy and more homey.”
“I said no.” He dismissed you by looking back at his display. “That should be the end of the conversation.”
Normally, it would’ve been. You were used to his dominance, used to being his soft, obedient constant in a world of sharks. He didn’t have to raise his voice or threaten—Lex Luthor never needed to. One firm sentence and you’d melt.
But the way he’d said ridiculous…
You didn’t argue. But you didn’t speak again either. Not that morning.
⸻
The first day, Lex didn’t notice your silence. You still made the bed precisely, still cooked dinner the way he liked, still wore those pretty dresses he adored. You just… didn’t try to make conversation. He talked, you hummed or nodded. When he kissed your cheek, you let him, but you didn’t lean in like usual.
By day three, he noticed.
“You’re quiet,” he said one evening, loosening his tie as he entered the bedroom. You were folding laundry, lips parted just a little, eyes down.
“Mhm.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No.”
He tilted his head, studying you like a problematic equation. “You’re not upset about the decoration nonsense, are you?”
You did not look at him. “You said it was ridiculous.”
“And it is.” He slipped behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. Normally you’d melt into him, tilt your head, sigh. Instead, you set down the shirt in your hands and stepped away under the guise of putting things in the closet.
He froze.
He didn’t say anything about it at first, but you could feel him assessing you every time you moved. You still did everything he expected—house immaculate, meals timely, clothes pressed, his routines anticipated—but you were quiet. Distant. Not bratty. Just… not his usual perfectly pliant darling.
And it unnerved him.
⸻
After a week, Lex started trying to bait you back into conversation.
At breakfast, he’d say something dryly humorous just to see if you’d laugh. You’d smile politely and eat your yogurt. Passing him in the hallway, he’d tap your hip and say, “Careful, darling,” just to get a reaction. You’d murmur “sorry” and keep going.
The fourth night, he’d come home from a meeting later than usual. You’d already eaten. His dinner was still warm on the stove in a covered dish. His suit jacket was on its hanger. His files had been organized and moved to his office like you always did.
Everything was perfect—except you didn’t greet him. You didn’t kiss his jaw or ask how his day was. You were reading on the couch, curled under a blanket without inviting him to join.
Lex stood there for a full minute, watching you. Waiting.
You didn’t even look up.
⸻
By the end of the second week, you figured either he’d forget entirely or he’d put you over his knee for acting off. He was never cruel, but he could be cold when crossed. You weren’t trying to punish him—you just couldn’t bring yourself to keep pretending your feelings weren’t bruised.
That afternoon, you were upstairs in your shared bedroom, hair tied back, cozy in one of his old shirts, reading while the rain tapped the glass. You didn’t hear him come in—you were too lost in the chapter.
“Fine.”
His voice cut through the quiet.
Your eyes lifted from the page. Lex was standing in the doorway, jacket off, sleeves rolled, expression unreadable.
You blinked. “Fine, what?”
He exhaled through his nose like it irritated him to repeat himself. “Decorate.”
You sat up slowly, unsure you’d heard right. He stepped further in, arms crossing.
“But nothing over the top,” he added sharply, like the concession physically pained him. “No inflatable pumpkins. No paper bats hanging from the ceiling. And absolutely no scented pinecones.”
Your heart thudded hard in your chest. “Really?”
He gave a small, strained nod. “If it will end this… whatever this is—yes.”
For a fraction of a second, he looked almost uncomfortable, as though admitting defeat violated some internal code. Then you moved.
You shot off the bed so fast his eyes widened. Then you threw yourself into his arms with a delighted gasp, nearly knocking him backward.
“Lex!”
He caught you reflexively, hands firm on your waist. Your legs wrapped around his hips like instinct. You cupped his face and kissed him, hard and happy and breathless.
He let out a startled huff against your mouth, then his grip tightened and he kissed you back, low and urgent. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, but there was no bite in it.
“You’re the best,” you said against his jaw, and you meant it.
“Mm. You’ve been insufferable.”
“You called me ridiculous.”
His hands flexed against your thighs. “…It was a poor word choice.”
You leaned back enough to look at him, eyes shining. “You hurt my feelings.”
He didn’t flinch, but his gaze flickered. “I noticed.” A pause. “I didn’t like it.”
You kissed him again, softer. “Thank you for letting me decorate.”
“I said nothing excessive,” he warned, as if he needed the last word. “Subtle. Elegant. And if I see a single plastic scarecrow, I’ll set it on fire.”
You giggled and nuzzled into his neck. “Deal.”
Lex carried you to the bed without putting you down, lips brushing your ear as he muttered, “Next time you want something, try asking once instead of staging a silent rebellion.”
“You wouldn’t have listened,” you said simply.
He didn’t argue—because you were right.
But when you lifted your head to smile at him again, he blinked like he was surprised by how much he’d missed it.
And for the first time in two weeks, he kissed you first.
MASTERPOST
summary: luthorcorp drugs are miracle workers
pairing: lex luthor / f!reader
tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, angsty ish, no warnings :)
word count: 2.5k
a/n: i just keep getting ideas and i feel like i'm not even close to ending this fic. yall are here for the long run, for now hahahaha
Your head is spinning as puzzle pieces snap together. The daily meetings after your work. The fury and jealousy at Officer Ludlow after speaking to you. The penthouse, the coffee, the proximity.
You let out a shaky laugh, bitter and breathless. “That’s it, isn’t it? All this dragging along, scolding me, dressing me up with you, it’s all part of your games. You keep me close, Lex, not because you need me, it’s cause you want me.”
Your words are sputtering out anxiously, you can’t hold them back now.
His eyes flick to your lips and back up.
“You-”
“You do,” you continue, pressing him, voice trembling now. “You care about me. You threaten my life, yet protect me. You can’t stand the thought of me with anyone else. You can’t stand losing control-”
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?
‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗
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.
‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗
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.
‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗
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.
MASTERPOST
summary: writing the new article comes with some consequences
pairing: lex luthor / f!reader
tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, no warnings :)
word count: 2.4k
a/n: not a ton of lex in this but he's always right there just in time....
He exhales once. “Let’s go.”
You reluctantly slide into the passenger side of the car. Lex takes the seat behind the steering wheel and carefully maneuvers out of the alleyway.
For a moment, it’s silent, besides the low hum of the car engine. It’s strange seeing him… driving. He’s always being chauffeured everywhere, so it’s unusual for him to be doing something normal people would do.
He has the world at his fingertips, but he came, alone, in his own car, to pick you up.
You don’t dare speak.
The city lights begin to turn on as the sun dips below the horizon. You must have been walking for a while after work. You’re surprised Lex even found you, but no doubt he planted a chip in your phone to track you or something.
Your eyes flick to him. He’s fixated on the road, driving you both back into the heart of Metropolis.
Back into the lion’s den.
“So.”
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.
‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗‗‗‗ ‗‗‗ ‗‗ ‗
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.
summary | renfield falls for the vampire hunter sent to kill his boss
pairing | robert montague renfield x van helsing!fem!reader!
wc | 1.5k
genre | fluff!
warnings! | this is not really proof read yet, but other than that, nothing that i can think of, lol
requested? | yes! i combined two requests the best that i could since they were for the same character and song! i hope that you all enjoy it! and, if you have requested something, i promise that i am getting to them!
authors note | i loved these ideas! keep sending them in for the swift series! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!
You had just landed in New Orleans. Your family is sending you to take out the most notorious vampire known to man, Dracula. Being a Van Helsing, you had trained your whole life for this very moment. You beat out everyone in your family for this opportunity.
Your family had found out where his location was, and sent you immediately. You made your way through the parking lot before being stopped by a voice.
“Miss? May I help you?” Said the voice. You spun around fast to find a young man with brown hair. He seemed to be around your age. You thought that he may be one of two things. He was either lost or another vampire that you would have to kill.
“I’m fine, thanks” You said as you continued forward. You were almost to the door before he jumped in front of you.
“Miss, I don’t think you should go in there.”
“Sir, I have a job to do, If you would please move.”
“As do I, and I truly can not let you though.”
“Then you will have to make me.” You said as you straightened your back to him, and placed your hand on your stake.
“Miss, I can assure you that you would rather not.” He said. The moment he looked away, you took your chance and in one punch knocked him out.
You felt something was up once you got a better look at him. Yes he could pass as a vampire, but with his mouth slightly open, you could tell there were no fangs. You decided to take him back to your hotel room and get some answers.
Renfield wakes up, dizzy at first and then he notices the woman holding a crossbow of stakes at his head “Woah! Woah! Miss, I’m not one of them! I swear!”
“Then who the hell are you?” You ask, not lowering your weapon
“I’m Robert Montague Renfield” He answers. “Please lower your weapon.”
“Renfield? The Renfield? That's not possible, you should be over 100 by now.” You said while lowering your weapon some.
“I promise I’m not lying, why else would I have been there?” He says. You stare at him for a moment. He seems like he is telling the truth. “I’ll prove it, feed me a bug and my eyes will turn yellow.”
“If I feed you one of these and you attack me, I can guarantee that you will be dead within a second. You hear me?” He nods, and you pick up his tin, and feed him one. You watch as his eyes do change to yellow, and he breaks his ropes.
“See?” He says as he rubs his wrist.
“Why am I not dead?” You ask as you head to the fridge, leaving him confused.
“I beg your pardon?” He asks, following you, confused.
“You kill anyone that comes for Dracula, so why am I still alive.” You watch as he frowns, as you sip your soda.
“Please, do not remind me, I hate myself for it.” This shocks you as you stare at him.
“What do you mean, don’t you do it on your own free will?” You ask, sitting down at your table.
“Of course not.” He says while he sits across from you.
“You mean to tell me that you don’t do this because you want to protect Dracula? You say, offering him a soda as you do.
“I don’t….not anymore at least, if I could get out, I would, he just won’t let me go.” He says while looking down.
“Wait, you are bound to him?” You ask. You had always heard the stories of Renfield tearing over vampire hunters to shreds, it just does not make sense to you.
“Yes, I am. I do want to be but he will not let me leave.”
“Alright, I will help you, as long as you help me.” You say as you stand from the table.
“Wait- What do you mean, you will help me?” He asks while standing too.
“I need to kill your boss. Help me do so, and we both will get what we want.”
“You would do that for me?” He asked, his eyes full of hope, while making your heart swell.
“It would be cruel of me not to.” You say as you smile.
Over the next few weeks, you and Renfield meet up every day while trying to come up with plans on how to get rid of Dracula.
You walk into your hotel room the next day waiting for Renfield, only to find Dracula sitting at my table.
“So this is the woman that plagues Renfields mind?” He says as you put your crossbow of stakes down onto the counter. “Allow me to introduce myself”
“I already know who you are.” You say as you say while staying far enough away so you could attack if needed.
“Then introduce yourself to me, I would love to put a name with the face that he always thinks about” He said, like he was not asking.
“My name is (Y/n) Van Helsing” You said with a smirk. You knew he would know the name.
“Ugh, are they still making those?” He said while standing, “Why have you Van Helsings never stopped, Do you know how many of your kind I have killed?”
“Why are you here?” You asked while taking a slight step closer to him. “Are you gonna kill me?”
“I should, and perhaps I will.” He said, and in a flash he grabbed her neck and pushed her against the wall. “Maybe I will take pity on you? Kill you quicker than your ancestors”
He is taken aback by the laughter that comes from you next. “Why are you laughing? Is this some kind of joke to you? Losing your life?”
“You won’t, can’t kill me.” You say in a laugh
“And why is that?” He asked, getting closer to intimidate you.
“You know why, If you kill me, Renfield will find out, and blame you, and then you will never be able to control him again.” You say as you jerk his hand off of your throat.
“Stay away from Renfield, are we clear?” He said while making his way for the door, he left before he could hear your answer.
When Renfield came by later that day to see the marks on your neck from his hand, he was done, and he was ready to get rid of Dracula as fast as he could.
It was a month later when Renfield and you finally had killed Dracula, you were in your hotel packing up to go home when there was a knock at your door, when you opened the door, you found Renfield standing in front of you.
“I just wanted to see you one last time before you left, Miss Van Helsing” He said with a sad smile on his face.
“How many more times do I have to tell you to just call me (Y/n)” You said while inviting him in.
“Would you like some help?” He asked while taking a look around the place, noticing that it had become plain again.
“No thank you, You know I was just starting to get comfortable here in New Orleans.” You say with a sigh.
Renfield grabs her hand while she is packing “Please don’t go” he says in a small voice.
“Renfield I-” You look up and his eyes are already looking into yours.
He leans in and kisses you while he places a hand on your face gently. The kiss is gentle, and nervous, but full of need. When Renfield pulls away he immediately starts apologizing. “I am so sorry-” But before he could finish you pulled him back in, taking the air out of his lungs.
“You really want me to stay?” you say as you two pull away from each other.
“Yes,” He says out of breath.
“I will have to think about it” You say to him. Knowing that with your job, you will have to talk to your family about this first.
Renfield was starting to lose hope that you would return. It had been months since he heard from you last. A knock at his door took him out of his misery, especially when he opened the door to see one special vampire hunter standing there.
“Surprise” you say while pulling him in for a hug. You had to make some arrangements before you came back, but once you did, your family set you up with your own house in New Orleans for you to move into.
Renfield hugged you as tight as he could. “I am so happy you came back.” He mumbled into your neck.
“Well, I came back because I wanted to go out with a certain ex-slave of Draculas, any idea on who that could be?” You said with a smirk, teasing him.
“I have no idea, Will you tell me more about him?” He said as he pulled away to look at you.
“I will over dinner, how does that sound?” You say while looking up into his eyes while smiling.
“That sounds absolutely wonderful.” He says while pulling you into his apartment, and shuts the door
For the renfield prompt ideas: Ren has a bad dream abt Dracula hurting the reader and he wakes up to the reader comforting him. Hurt/comfort type beat
author's note: this is such a great idea :)
warnings: none
word count: 347
You'd been trying to pin down sleep for the past half hour, tossing and turning in your bed. Your body was sticking to the bedsheets, your skin shining with a sheen of sweat, yet as soon as you tried to pull up a cover a cold gust of wind promptly made you shiver. So you tried to make every uncomfortable position as comfortable as possible and squeezed your eyes shut, bundled up in a mass of damp blankets.
Suddenly you felt tugging from the opposite side of the bed. You turned your head in bleary confusion to see your boyfriend writhing beside you, murmuring in his sleep. He was entangled in the sheets, clawing at the fabric surrounding him.
"Hey, hey, hey," you called, shaking him frantically. He was unresponsive, jumbled sentences continuing to fall from his mouth as his body suffered a visceral reaction to his nightmare, contorting like a wild animal.
"Robert!" your voice magnified in volume as your panic escalated. His eyes were twitching, the whites poking out from beneath his lids. They slowly fluttered open, containing a mixture of fear and confusion that painted his expression.
"Robert, are you okay?" you whispered.
"Y-yeah. Bad dream," he mumbled. His entire body was trembling.
"It''s alright. It wasn't real, okay? You're safe. And I'm right here."
You pulled him close to you, cradling his head against your chest. You felt his rapid heartbeat pounding against you as he desperately clung to your touch.
"Was it about... you know who?" you murmured into his hair.
"Of course it was," he said softly.
You traced gentle circles on his back, falling into silence as you felt his body come down from the dream.
"Do you want to not sleep together?"
He lifted his eyes to peer up at you. "Yes, please."
"I'm not going anywhere," you reassured him as he pressed himself to your body. He molded himself against your form, closing any hint of a gap that existed between you.
The two of you became one under the covers, hearts beating in synchrony, limbs tangled together.
summary | renfield falls for the vampire hunter sent to kill his boss
pairing | robert montague renfield x van helsing!fem!reader!
wc | 1.5k
genre | fluff!
warnings! | this is not really proof read yet, but other than that, nothing that i can think of, lol
requested? | yes! i combined two requests the best that i could since they were for the same character and song! i hope that you all enjoy it! and, if you have requested something, i promise that i am getting to them!
authors note | i loved these ideas! keep sending them in for the swift series! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!
You had just landed in New Orleans. Your family is sending you to take out the most notorious vampire known to man, Dracula. Being a Van Helsing, you had trained your whole life for this very moment. You beat out everyone in your family for this opportunity.
Your family had found out where his location was, and sent you immediately. You made your way through the parking lot before being stopped by a voice.
“Miss? May I help you?” Said the voice. You spun around fast to find a young man with brown hair. He seemed to be around your age. You thought that he may be one of two things. He was either lost or another vampire that you would have to kill.
“I’m fine, thanks” You said as you continued forward. You were almost to the door before he jumped in front of you.
“Miss, I don’t think you should go in there.”
“Sir, I have a job to do, If you would please move.”
“As do I, and I truly can not let you though.”
“Then you will have to make me.” You said as you straightened your back to him, and placed your hand on your stake.
“Miss, I can assure you that you would rather not.” He said. The moment he looked away, you took your chance and in one punch knocked him out.
You felt something was up once you got a better look at him. Yes he could pass as a vampire, but with his mouth slightly open, you could tell there were no fangs. You decided to take him back to your hotel room and get some answers.
Renfield wakes up, dizzy at first and then he notices the woman holding a crossbow of stakes at his head “Woah! Woah! Miss, I’m not one of them! I swear!”
“Then who the hell are you?” You ask, not lowering your weapon
“I’m Robert Montague Renfield” He answers. “Please lower your weapon.”
“Renfield? The Renfield? That's not possible, you should be over 100 by now.” You said while lowering your weapon some.
“I promise I’m not lying, why else would I have been there?” He says. You stare at him for a moment. He seems like he is telling the truth. “I’ll prove it, feed me a bug and my eyes will turn yellow.”
“If I feed you one of these and you attack me, I can guarantee that you will be dead within a second. You hear me?” He nods, and you pick up his tin, and feed him one. You watch as his eyes do change to yellow, and he breaks his ropes.
“See?” He says as he rubs his wrist.
“Why am I not dead?” You ask as you head to the fridge, leaving him confused.
“I beg your pardon?” He asks, following you, confused.
“You kill anyone that comes for Dracula, so why am I still alive.” You watch as he frowns, as you sip your soda.
“Please, do not remind me, I hate myself for it.” This shocks you as you stare at him.
“What do you mean, don’t you do it on your own free will?” You ask, sitting down at your table.
“Of course not.” He says while he sits across from you.
“You mean to tell me that you don’t do this because you want to protect Dracula? You say, offering him a soda as you do.
“I don’t….not anymore at least, if I could get out, I would, he just won’t let me go.” He says while looking down.
“Wait, you are bound to him?” You ask. You had always heard the stories of Renfield tearing over vampire hunters to shreds, it just does not make sense to you.
“Yes, I am. I do want to be but he will not let me leave.”
“Alright, I will help you, as long as you help me.” You say as you stand from the table.
“Wait- What do you mean, you will help me?” He asks while standing too.
“I need to kill your boss. Help me do so, and we both will get what we want.”
“You would do that for me?” He asked, his eyes full of hope, while making your heart swell.
“It would be cruel of me not to.” You say as you smile.
Over the next few weeks, you and Renfield meet up every day while trying to come up with plans on how to get rid of Dracula.
You walk into your hotel room the next day waiting for Renfield, only to find Dracula sitting at my table.
“So this is the woman that plagues Renfields mind?” He says as you put your crossbow of stakes down onto the counter. “Allow me to introduce myself”
“I already know who you are.” You say as you say while staying far enough away so you could attack if needed.
“Then introduce yourself to me, I would love to put a name with the face that he always thinks about” He said, like he was not asking.
“My name is (Y/n) Van Helsing” You said with a smirk. You knew he would know the name.
“Ugh, are they still making those?” He said while standing, “Why have you Van Helsings never stopped, Do you know how many of your kind I have killed?”
“Why are you here?” You asked while taking a slight step closer to him. “Are you gonna kill me?”
“I should, and perhaps I will.” He said, and in a flash he grabbed her neck and pushed her against the wall. “Maybe I will take pity on you? Kill you quicker than your ancestors”
He is taken aback by the laughter that comes from you next. “Why are you laughing? Is this some kind of joke to you? Losing your life?”
“You won’t, can’t kill me.” You say in a laugh
“And why is that?” He asked, getting closer to intimidate you.
“You know why, If you kill me, Renfield will find out, and blame you, and then you will never be able to control him again.” You say as you jerk his hand off of your throat.
“Stay away from Renfield, are we clear?” He said while making his way for the door, he left before he could hear your answer.
When Renfield came by later that day to see the marks on your neck from his hand, he was done, and he was ready to get rid of Dracula as fast as he could.
It was a month later when Renfield and you finally had killed Dracula, you were in your hotel packing up to go home when there was a knock at your door, when you opened the door, you found Renfield standing in front of you.
“I just wanted to see you one last time before you left, Miss Van Helsing” He said with a sad smile on his face.
“How many more times do I have to tell you to just call me (Y/n)” You said while inviting him in.
“Would you like some help?” He asked while taking a look around the place, noticing that it had become plain again.
“No thank you, You know I was just starting to get comfortable here in New Orleans.” You say with a sigh.
Renfield grabs her hand while she is packing “Please don’t go” he says in a small voice.
“Renfield I-” You look up and his eyes are already looking into yours.
He leans in and kisses you while he places a hand on your face gently. The kiss is gentle, and nervous, but full of need. When Renfield pulls away he immediately starts apologizing. “I am so sorry-” But before he could finish you pulled him back in, taking the air out of his lungs.
“You really want me to stay?” you say as you two pull away from each other.
“Yes,” He says out of breath.
“I will have to think about it” You say to him. Knowing that with your job, you will have to talk to your family about this first.
Renfield was starting to lose hope that you would return. It had been months since he heard from you last. A knock at his door took him out of his misery, especially when he opened the door to see one special vampire hunter standing there.
“Surprise” you say while pulling him in for a hug. You had to make some arrangements before you came back, but once you did, your family set you up with your own house in New Orleans for you to move into.
Renfield hugged you as tight as he could. “I am so happy you came back.” He mumbled into your neck.
“Well, I came back because I wanted to go out with a certain ex-slave of Draculas, any idea on who that could be?” You said with a smirk, teasing him.
“I have no idea, Will you tell me more about him?” He said as he pulled away to look at you.
“I will over dinner, how does that sound?” You say while looking up into his eyes while smiling.
“That sounds absolutely wonderful.” He says while pulling you into his apartment, and shuts the door
Request: Ok hear me out.. Renfield having a loving partner?? And he's just.. soo not used to that? Like at all?? Someone giving /him/ attention??? Praising him? LOVING him? Not shooing him away? Not barking orders or shaming him for doing something wrong? I needs it!
Robert Montague Renfield x Reader
Warnings: romance?
Proofread? No
Word Count: 689
A/n: I pushed through writers block to write this.
-
“Surprise!” You shouted excitedly as you bounced excitedly in front of the dining table.
Robert stood in the entrance of his apartment. Dumbfounded as he gazed at the white cake that was placed upon the wooden surface. The top of it had the words 'Happy Birthday Robert!' spelled with blue frosting.
"What is this?" He raised his eyebrow in curiosity.
"It's for your birthday!" You exclaimed, barely able to control your volume.
Both of Robert's eyebrows rose in surprise and confusion. You didn't forget? You remembered? You remembered his birthday? Out of all the days to remember, you remembered the day that he was born? Why would you? It's certainly not important.
Or at least that's what Dracula told him multiple times in the past century or so.
“You remembered?” He gave you an incredulous look.
“Of course I did!” You skipped over to him. “And, I’ve got some gifts for you! Just wait here.” You squealed before you sprinted off to his bedroom. Robert stayed in his spot, still shocked and confused at the fact that you actually remembered his birthday.
After about a minute, you came out of the bedroom carrying two bags. One large pink one, and a smaller black one. You placed them both on the dining table next to the cake. You reached inside the pink one and pulled out an envelope that had Robert’s full name written on the back of it.
“This is from Rebecca. She couldn’t make it but she got you this.” You explained as you handed the envelope and pink bag to him.
Robert reached inside the bag and felt his fingers land on a hard surface. He pulled the unidentified object out and in his grasp was a book, with a title that read, 'Encyclopedia Of Bugs'.
"A Bug book! How nice!" You grinned.
Robert opened the envelope next, inside was a card that had the words,
"I know you have a "habit" of swallowing bugs. So you might as well know what you're eating when you order."
He didn't quite get the joke and frankly, neither did Rebecca when she wrote it.
"Ok! My turn!" You let out what felt like your hundredth squeal as you took the small white bag and handed it to him. "Ok, remember that time we went on that one walk and we passed by a really fancy jewelry store?" Robert thought for a moment.
"I think so."
"Great! Now open your gift!" You could barely contain your excitement as you urged him to do so.
Robert reached inside and pulled out a small, silver box. When he opened it, he gave you a curious look. Inside the box was a golden ring that had his full name engraved in it.
"This is for… me?" He nervously gestured toward himself.
"Who else?" You gave him a warm smile.
In this moment, the only thing Robert could think was that this had to be some sort of ruse. Why would you ever give such a gift to him of all people? How could something so nice belong to him? And how could someone so amazing be kind enough to give it to him?
“It’s… Beautiful.” He said, with an astonished expression on his face.
“I’m so glad you like it!” You squealed (AGAIN.) and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Instead of speaking. Robert stood there in a dazed state for a solid minute.
You frowned.
“Is something wrong?” You worriedly queried, afraid that he might have changed his mind about your gift within the span of a minute.
“No, no, I just… You- you did this for me?”
“Well it wasn’t just me, Rebecca helped. Although, yes I did pick out the ring by myself.”
“Why?” He questioned, genuinely confused as to why you did all of this, for him.
“Because we love you. I love you.” Just then Robert felt a tug at his heart. You loved him. You really did. You actually appreciate him. Not once, in the entire time he knew you, had you used him. That was when Robert knew.
