Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang
After disobeying him, Lex gives you a rare second chance to prove yourself.
w/c: 3.6k
warnings: smut (p in v). gunplay. lex being lex (unhinged). implied but also obviously toxic relationship. kinda dark?
All you had to do was stand and look pretty.
That was the simplest requirement for being Lex Luthor’s girlfriend. Whenever there was an event, he’d personally take you shopping; carting you around different luxury brand stores to make sure the pair of you looked like a match. Colours, fabrics, labels – everything had to be to perfection. It was all for appearances, just as everything with Lex was.
You weren’t exactly like his past playthings, other than being youthful and vibrant. You’d had a relatively flourishing career in publicity (and a knack for public relations) – independently, nonetheless – which had been how you’d come across Luthor in the first place. Apparently he’d been ‘impressed’ by your work on a summit he’d attended and had his team sought you out. Ironically, despite all this he’d still found a way to insult you, labelling your work “mostly fluff”.
Three catered events later, Lex had asked you to become his permanent PR executive, willing to fire the current employees on the spot. All you’d had to do was give him your word.
Declining the offer had caused instantaneous chaos.
Lex was not a man used to hearing the word ‘no’. Subsequently, he took his bruised ego and did what any rational human would – blacklisting you from the best paying clients, strategically and considerably knocking down your income. At the end of the day, bills were to be paid and rent came along monthly, leaving you with no choice but to beg for the position.
On his lips had been just a hint of a smug smile, all done whilst sipping his coffee and flicking through a tablet as if nothing had ever happened. Your name had rolled off his tongue like butter as he clasped his hands together.
“I’m glad you finally came to your senses, though I’m rather embarrassed that it took so long…Go and tell Chandler and Sarah that they’re fired. I’d do it now but I have a far more important meeting to attend,”
“You want me to fire them?”
“— I suggest you rip the proverbial Band-Aid off sooner rather than later, it’s not a good look to your colleagues that you can’t be upfront with them.”
Things had a way of happening, and once Lex had acquired you as an employee, he’d thought it best you become a girlfriend. Any questions about your job was now answered with an “indefinite hiatus” (Lex’s words of course), a tight lipped smile on your end, and an even tighter grip around your waist.
Most women dreamed of quitting their jobs to be with a rich man who provided for them, right? You should’ve been nothing but grateful.
So, here you were at an awards ceremony for the most ‘impactful’ people of Metropolis. Dangling off Lex’s arm as you always did, nodding, smiling and making the few bits of small talk you were allowed to do.
Naturally, there were people there that you knew. But there was one in particular you hadn’t seen in a while…for fairly obvious reasons. Perry White, from the Daily Planet.
“Go and get us another drink, would you?” Lex said softly, nodding his head to the man opposite him. They’d been engaged in conversation all night. “A whiskey and a champagne. Be careful, I know how you can get after you’ve had a few.”
On the surface it was friendly banter between a couple. But what Lex was really saying was don’t embarrass him by tripping on the stairs.
Nodding, you went in search of refreshments, barely noticing Perry as you did, until he called out your name. Glancing around, you figured you were a safe distance from Lex, ducking your head to speak to him.
“Perry…It’s been ages.”
“I could say the same to you,” he said knowingly, casting a somewhat disapproving look around. “How you keeping, kid?”
You blinked.
“…Just going through a momentary blip, I swear,” you said vaguely before swiftly changing the subject. “How’s the team? Did any of the interns come back?”
Even under the hushed panic of your voice, there was a clear intrigue.
“We’re making it work,” he shrugs. “We’ve been getting real reach with our online content. Olsen’s here too, but he’s technically on the clock.“
“Still a ladies man?”
“Apparently.”
“Where did he go last? I’ll see if I can hunt him down --”
Perry made a face.
“— I suspect you won’t be seeing him anytime soon. Luthor’s at your three o’clock.”
With wide eyes you turned around, gaze finding its way to the balcony where Lex was stood by the railing, knuckles white from his vice grip. Piercing blue eyes were locked onto your own, mind likely racing at the connection between you and the man. He wore a smug smile, which to anyone looked reassuring, waving you over with the palm of his hand. The room suddenly felt small, shrinking, lungs squeezing together as you tried to compose yourself, gasping for breath.
You were fucked.
The limo ride back was quiet. You could hear every click of the hand break, every whirr of the air conditioning and felt every ounce of Lex’s silence.
Sat next to you, he was fixated on a tablet, the screen lighting up his features in an otherwise dark car, flashing between white and green. He hadn’t looked at you once.
Fiddling with the hem of your dress, you tugged at the seatbelt, finding it rather constricting over the torso. The majority of the time Lex was one to fly into rage, making this apparent stillness all the more uncomfortable.
Swallowing, you opened your mouth to break the ice, ultimately unable to find the words.
It wasn’t long before letters that formed the word ‘LuthorCorp’ were reflected in the window, looking over the car like a fiend and signalling your impending doom. Everybody knew what happened if you crossed Lex Luthor. You would just become another in a long, seemingly endless line of floating squares in the pocket dimension of all the people who’d wronged him.
The car screeched to a halt, and Lex jumped out almost immediately, discarding the tablet on the car seat. He knew you’d follow. You had to.
Perhaps was time to start begging.
Popping the door open, you began to call after him, brain a flurry as you tried to make it to the elevator before it closed. His demeanour was tight, right up to his lips; stretched into a thin pink line, and his brows were ever so slightly furrowed.
The light was much brighter now, and with the mirrors around the elevator shaft you could see the reality of the situation – you pleading to an emotionless Lex for your life back. The very situation you’d been in over a year ago when you were weeks out from losing your apartment.
Like any man in his position, Lex liked the power he had over anyone, and in this case, it was you.
“Lex…” you began, “I’m sorry, I made a mistake…”
“I don’t like it when you speak to the reporters without me,” he replied simply, his gaze fixed on the buttons. With every floor passed it changed colour. Biting your lip, you anticipated where it would stop. The 40th floor was the penthouse. The 39th was his infamous office. If you could just reach the top —
“As a matter of fact, I don’t like it when you speak at these things at all.”
“All I said was hello…he was an old friend; it would be rude not to —“
“What’s rude is your blatant disrespect for my rules,” he said, is voice tapering into a slight hum at the end. “It’s such a shame. You’ve been my favourite of the lot.”
You knew what that meant.
The elevator pinged and the room opened, the bright lights of Metropolis below illuminating his wooden desk and the various computers at the centre of the room. The absence of employees was uncanny, lending the room an almost deadly quality. Even in the darkness, the foreboding turquoise light of the portal stuck out, its circle a ring of hell.
With Ultraman seemingly appearing from nowhere, you braced yourself for a firm grip to your arm…but it didn’t come.
Instead, he pulled out a sleek silver revolver and placed it in Lex’s hands as if it were a crown jewel, with the bald man giving the masked individual a small nod in acknowledgment. Ultraman stepped away, but he didn’t leave.
Your head spun, the weight of the situation now dawning on you like a horrid twilight. Lex was never above resorting to murder, but you’d never imagined he’d do it to a girlfriend...or you for that matter. It seemed like an irrational punishment for what you ultimately felt was a minor misdemeanour, but for all of Lex’s genius he was never rational to begin with.
“Lex, please,” you begged again, hesitant to close the gap between you. He didn’t look at you once. He seemed to be fiddling with the rod. “It was just a silly conversation. We didn’t even get past hello --”
You found yourself glancing over at Ultraman, hoping that he could see the desperation in your eyes, and find the slightest bit of humanity within him to intervene. But deep down, you had a feeling it wouldn’t come.
“If you haven’t learnt from tonight…I suggest you give your boyfriend some attention for once,” Lex finally spoke, drawing your focus back to him. He hadn’t flinched an inch; the formation of his suit still as crisp and kempt as it had been when he’d left earlier that evening.
“Since you like being friendly with common folk and gambling with my reputation, we’re going to play a little game of chance.”
He pointed to his chair with the gun.
“Sit.”
“Lex —“
He cocked a brow at your defiance. Lex rarely gave second chances, if ever. Nodding, you hurriedly moved to sit, dress sweeping like a cape at the motion. The man walked behind you, leaving you to stare out onto the city. Most people were asleep, watching a movie, throwing a party – either way they were free, totally unbeknownst to your captivity.
Like a shrew in a vulture's nest, he circled you, luxury cologne flooding your nostrils so that you couldn’t smell the pure iron of a semi-loaded gun.
The cylinder made a whirring sound as he spun it, and with a pointed flick of his wrist it clicked to a stop. Slowly, but surely, he pointed the barrel to your upper back, right between your shoulder blades. The contact was cold against your flushed skin, and you were almost certain that Lex could feel your heart race right against the object.
“Perry White…” he announced, and your eyes widened at the mention. Of course Lex had done his research. That was what the tablet on the ride home was for.
“Editor-in-Chief of none other than The Daily Planet, which you should know are my biggest critics…How do you know him?”
Swiping your tongue over your bottom lip, you look a small, ragged breath before answering.
“Like I said, he was just a friend, a colleague, even –“
He dug the gun deeper into your skin.
“— The Daily Planet received some money for an intern scheme a few years back. They asked me to do some publicity to showcase their philanthropy – it was a small scale thing. Perry was just a mentor, and I dropped by a couple times.”
Lex paused, lowering his head so that his lips were by your ear, a clothed arm brushing against your skin as you were centimetres apart. He was close, almost too close.
He didn’t say anything when he pulled the trigger.
The gun made a dull clicking sound, and you could’ve sworn that your skeleton leapt out of your skin, bracing for impact. But it didn’t come. You’d passed the 1/6 chance of death.
There was barely time to question his judgement when he asked a follow up, spinning the cylinder yet again.
Click.
“Daily Planet…” he mused, dangling the gun in his hand. His designer shoes tapped along the floor as he continued to pace the short distance around you, leisurely tracing along your shoulders with the object.
He did it for a few short moments before he slid the barrel under the thin strap of your dress, guiding it off your shoulders and down your arms. The act was sensual, scary…almost a turn on. Judging by the slight prominence in his pants, apparently it was for Lex too.
“…There’s at least over 60 people employed there. I want to know who you were speaking with.”
“I spoke to everyone. It’s best practice.”
Their identities were just a click away.
Tightening his grip on the gun, he aimed it at your neck.
“Specifics. Otherwise I’ll get him to squeeze it out of you.”
He nodded his head in the direction of Ultraman, who stood motionless.
You cleared your throat.
“It was only really the gossip columnist – it was always a bit of fun between us if I gave her titbits,” you said sincerely. Briefly casting your gaze to the floor, you noted that you were just left rather dishevelled; one strap still secure on your shoulder and the other dangling down, showing off the tips of your strapless lingerie. Exposed. Seemingly making you more honest.
“…I haven’t spoken to her since, I swear. Most of my contact was with upper management and HR. It was their idea.”
You couldn’t have. Lex had trackers everywhere.
“I’ll bet,” he sneered, tracing the gun along your neck, moving down the top of your spine. You could feel the dense rim of the barrel almost massaging your skin. “Gossip. So trivial. Fitting, when your IQ doesn’t account for much all anyone can turn to is mindless drivel.”
Almost effortlessly, he spun you around in the desk chair, the swivel somehow leaving you partially stunned. You were now face to face with him, making eye contact as his arms were either side of you. If it wasn’t clear before, there was no escape.
Lex seemed to be amused now, the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly. He’d stripped off his blazer, rolling up his sleeves to his forearms. Like a succubus he inhaled every last one of your laboured breaths, biting down on his cheek in relief as he pulled the gun, this time aimed right between your breasts.
A dull click.
No bullet.
Lex sucked in a breath, chuckling as he shook his head and withdrew the revolver.
“This is going better than I expected,” he hummed. “This is what I like about you. Not once have you ever flinched under pressure.”
You ignored the fact that you were scared out of your mind. He was of course talking about your ‘official’ tenure as his PR exec.
When you’d been working independently you’d been a strong, all-rounded career woman. Everybody was treated firmly, but fair – and Lex had been no different. You challenged him when no one else did, and that was why he’d relentlessly pursued you…and was now systematically breaking you down.
“Lex,” you began, finding it within you to speak out of turn. “I can tell you whatever little information I know, just —“
“— Don’t tell me to put the gun down,” he said sharply, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny. “You’ve been squirming in your seat ever since you sat down – you’re enjoying this as much as I have.”
You couldn’t deny the heat pooling in your loins.
“Stand up. Palms on the table.”
You obeyed, back at a slight angle but perfectly straight as you pressed your palms against the hard wood, fingertips ever so slightly clammy.
“Good.” He praised.
Lex wedged his foot between your legs, sharp leather shoes digging at your skin as he kicked your legs apart.
“Perfect.” He finished, his voice a whisper in your ear. Sliding himself behind you, he trapped you against the desk with his erection on your thigh. His body was surprisingly warm.
“Now here’s the money shot,” Lex smirked, raising his voice as he flicked the cylinder with considerable force.
Another click.
This time, he pressed the ice cold gun to your temple.
“What do they know about Superman?”
Now was time for genuine panic.
“What?”
“Don’t pull those dead eyes,” he scoffed knowingly. “You know that publication has been unfairly biased against me to date. They’re anything but impartial – and that one reporter, you know his name – is at the helm of it.”
“Lex, think about this,” you bit back. “I’m just an external agency, I know nothing about how they get their stories —“
“— Before me you were practically a glorified socialite. You have connections to almost everybody in an 100 mile radius. There are people you know that I wouldn’t have even bothered to do business with. You would know something.”
“I don’t!”
With one hand holding a gun to your head, he used the other to bunch up your dress, messily dangling the fabric around your hips and using the edge of the desk like a pin.
You were unable to hold back a gasp when Lex slid his fingers into your panties; lithe digits rubbing against your slippery folds, threatening to push them deeper. He seemed to laugh in pleasure.
“Say it. I want you to say his name.”
You didn’t answer immediately, prompting the man to push his fingers into you. All bets were off when he began to move, pumping them in and out and creating an obscene squelching sound.
“…C-Clark Kent…”
“Clark Kent,” he repeated, adjusting the gun as you moved against him. “The only man on the planet who can get an interview with Superman. Surely he was at that intern celebration, correct?”
The gun pressed deeper into your skull.
“Yes, he was—“
You sighed; in pleasure, in exhaustion…you weren’t sure. All you could think about were the way Lex’s fingers skilfully moved across your cunt, finding your clit and rubbing against it in small circles. Your mind practically went blank as you heard him undo his zipper with one hand and pulling out his cock.
It was warm, slightly slimy with precum against your ass.
“You know very well I don’t like to repeat myself. You should anticipate my next demand.”
Lex entered you, swollen nub intruding your hole. He held you there, the revolver still firmly in position as he locked his other hand around your body. He didn’t give you the gratification of a kiss, instead nuzzled you, feeling the little prickles where he’d shaved. Shortly, he began to move, making shallow strokes.
“Clark – he was there. He was happy for them…” you said, trying to form the words. “When I met him we only made small talk. I was at reception and he offered to take me to HR directly. He gave me coffee…”
Lex’s grip tightened on the trigger at the fact.
“It was around the time of his first article with Superman. I told him well done and that he was lucky to get a chance —“
The gun made a rattling sound.
“-- All he said was that they were friends – I figured he was joking…”
You could’ve sworn his hand was trembling. After a prolonged moment of judgement he loosened his finger from the trigger. Lex quickened his pace, bucking his hips so that your ass collided with his trousers and creating a muffled slapping sound.
His one-handed grip tightened on your body, deep enough to hurt in the morning but also drawing you into him; like he was going to consume your thoughts and use them as his own. He didn’t voice his pleasure, but you could hear his heavy breaths.
You, on the other hand, were rather loud, relieved that Lex had seemingly caved. With your palms still trembling, you could feel your stomach turn with a familiar heat, ankles buckling under the pressure. If you weren’t sandwiched between Lex and the desk, you certainly would’ve fallen.
Lex was fucking you good; in fact he’d never fucked you like this before. He seemed to agree, heavy whistles coming from his nose as his thrusts grew sloppy. Breathily, you moaned his name as you came around his cock. He twitched inside you as your walls squeezed around him, though you were unable to enjoy the full height of your orgasm as Lex abruptly pulled out of you. A fraction of a second later he was spilling all over your thighs, white fluid messily painting a section of your navy dress. It was perhaps the only time he was uncoordinated.
He stepped out from behind you, and you could feel yourself wanting to sink into the chair, perhaps maybe through all 39 floors entirely. The revolver had never left his hand, not once through the entire ordeal.
Shock hadn’t kicked in yet, but it would.
Sniffing, he gathered himself together, swiftly removing the bullet and placing the gun into his trouser pocket.
He cast you a look.
In fact, he seemed to be admiring you.
“Steve will drive you home. Tomorrow morning someone will come to get that cleaned,” he announced, nodding at your spoiled dress. “You’ll be happy to know that I’m giving you permission to return to your job...at least temporarily,”
Folding your arms around your body, you cocked your head. It was suddenly rather cold in the office.
“I want you to dig, pry and claw at every single source you have across this city. I need their reputation, their credibility ruined. I want you to destroy The Daily Planet, and I don’t care if you have to do it from the inside out – starting with that miserable reporter.”
s/o to @grackleshells for the post with the concept!
