AN: Thank you so much Smartlooks and Carlypso. I really enjoyed your reviews :) And yes, he was really good in Immortals too.
-to Smartlooks: yes, I will as soon as this is over. ❥
WARNING: This chapter contains mature content. If you do not feel comfortable reading that, do not read the second half of the chapter.
If sexy time bothers anyone, I apologize. I just really had the urge to write this I don't think I made it too graphic, just...suggestive. I am now changing this to M-rated. *hides away*
[ Disclaimer: Superman: Man of Steel and its characters, settings and such belong to the Warner Bros. and whoever came up with DC Comics. The song "Kiss It Better" is owned by the duo He Is We. I own nothing ]
Kiss It Better
And she cried,
"Kiss it all better, I'm not ready to go...
It's not your fault love, you didn't know.
You didn't know."
The next days were hell on Earth.
Long, torturous, agonizing, painfully lonely days.
Clark sneezed. He continued to gaze nebulously outside the window.
The remainder of that night had been hazy but Clark remembered everything. Everything—from picking her up from her apartment, that fatal shot, to the paramedics arriving to take her cold, lifeless body away. After he had tucked the handgun in his trousers, the rest he couldn't recall. He knew that sometime in the night he had talked vaguely with a pair of cops and then later, somehow found his way back home, but the rest was unclear. It would have shocked him that he had done it all out of force of habit, without being all there mentally, and if it weren't for those habits, he would have gotten lost on the way back to his small apartment.
He might have thought he'd caught a cold from coming back in the dead of night, soaking wet. But like the others, that thought too disintegrated quickly.
The rain had eased but continued to pour in a light drizzle. He felt as if the murky sky was taunting him, as if it knew she had been going to die and it now wept for her.
It knew.
This was all ludicrous.
Clark hasn't moved from his at the edge of his mattress in almost five days.
He'd slept once but hadn't thought about doing it since. He's hardly thought at all. He's just sat there, staring at the vast city from his bedside. Didn't turn on the lights, called in to Perry once. He knew he must have had more loose tears due to the dry salt trails on his face.
"The gun... The gun..."
The thought of that man, of his gun, of the craving for revenge repetived in his mind like an drum's beat.
The gun.
The gun...
Use it.
Find him.
Each beat speaking a word in time until it was a scream, a razor against stone and he couldn't ignore it any longer.
For Lois.
He
killed her.
Payback.
It's on
the dresser.
Murder...
Innocent.
The gun.
She died
because of him.
Murderer!
Use it.
Revenge
Use it!
Find him!
His head throbbed.
The hospital had tried to call him twice but he didn't bother answering. He knew she was dead—he'd held her in his arms for godsake! He had felt her last breath slip away...
Clark rubbed his face, his bones cracking when he turned to look at the clock, cracking from lack of use for so long. 9:55 pm it read; stubble was beginning to grow on his chin, he felt as his hands brushed against his face.
Clark couldn't even find the strength to sigh.
Instead, he looked back down at Metropolis, the many buildings' lights illuminating the busy city life. The thought of Lois' murder returned again, and so did the feeling of the want, need for revenge. Clark shook his head again but was unable to make it go away this time. It instead returned more intensely.
As more time went by, Clark finally stood from his hard bed, the springs screaming. He didn't care to see how many hours had went by, nor to look in the mirror as he threw on a lone shirt and walked to the front door. He didn't think to do anything but obey the thought that kept repeating in his mind. For if he had looked, he would have noticed the deep, dark circles under his eyes and see his eyes were again glowing that intense, demonic bright red. It was from rage this time that made his powers surface.
He swung open the door, barely remembering to do so softly enough and ripped two hinges.
The rain was pouring heavily.
The gun was already in his hand.
It was around midnight when Clark left his small apartment.
He didn't feel the freezing rain that stuck his hair to his face or his clothes. He walked down many streets and alleys before coming across that familiar face, alone. That face.
Clark didn't know that Kryptonians' value for honor was just as strong as for revenge. And that revenge can make one crazy, into doing things he or she would not normally, especially for the sake of a loved one.
(End Flashback)
*.§~§.*
(Another time skip )
The door to Eve's apartment barged open, bouncing off the wall. Two bodies stumbled inside clumsily, unseeing, and completelydrunk on desire, craving, and carnal intentions. Lips were locked and hands were still grasping, tongues engaged in an epic war. He kicked the door closed behind them. And she fumbled with hanging the keys on the little hook by the door before quickly giving up and dropping them, with her purse, to the floor and stood on tiptoes when he then picked her up and backed her up against the wall. She smiled against his mouth, feeling how the more eager he was this time and teased this in a whisper. Eve took his lower lip between her teeth, and sucked. She was taunting him, and in turn he pressed her harder against the wall to where she could feel his taunt built through his clothes.
She let go of his lip with a gasp then his mouth lowering to give attention to her neck, trailing down her collar bone. Her thighs were wrapped around his waist and her back arched off the wall, a shrill mewl escaping her full lips when his nose dove between her plump breasts. The vice of her arms around his neck tightened in increased arousal as her breath became airier.
Clark smirked, liking the way she called his name.
Eve's body rolled, eager, impatient, and begging.
That first date between them had been better than she had thought. If she'd known that she and Clark would hit it off so well, she wouldn't have been such a nervous mess at the restaurant or have worried so much about seeing him at work after that goodbye kiss (another on the cheek). And naturally, Alyse hadn't hesitated to chat and tease about it once she found out. Luckily though, she understood that it needed be kept secret from their co-workers, and luckily, it remained that way.
But of course, over the course of the next several weeks, Eve felt as if she was walking on pins and needles around the man. She noticed that Clark had sprung back rather enthrallingly, but she hadn't expect for there to be a second time he'd want to see her, nor the small vase of flowers she found on her desk one morning after their third date—when Clark had coincidently been asked on a business trip; she had mentioned that she didn't like extravagant gifts so it was kept small. And after all, why would someone as good-looking as him want to be around someone so...normal as her, she'd think.
Against her apartment wall, Clark took a whiff of her fragrance before swooping up to capture her lips again, making her moan. A smirk played his lips as he whispered mostlysweet nothings. Eve's eyes rolled up, feeling his hips moving in small, tantalizing motions. Clark had quickly found out in the beginning of the start of their "moments" together, just how to get her hot.
He applied more pressure on her core, making her squirm in anticipation.
"Aah~ M-more, Cl-ark. Please!" She gasped, tangling her small fingers in his dark curls when a hand raised to cup her ample bosom.
He silenced her with his mouth upon hers once more and her apartment living room was filled with eager moaning again.
Clark sometimes had to take a breather and steady his arms on the wall as to not crush her. It was always a challenge for him, each time, to make sure that he didn't squeeze too tight or pulled too hard; he constantly worried around her, and not only for if he got carried away, he could easily kill her while bringing her to white-hot pleasure. It didn't help that she was slightly, physically smaller than...she had been, shorter and thicker set too. Eve was almost a porcelain doll in comparison to him, which made her even the more precious.
And if she bit his lip just one more time...
Eve swore he growled when he jerked them away from the wall, hoisting her higher in his arms, before pausing momentarily to lock the front door and ravishing again her already bruising lips. Eve's fingers stroked his cheek, his jaw, and the kiss turned from lecherous to slow, placid, calm, her pink lipstick starting to rub off and leave small residues on him.
He stumbled down the hallway, still holding her around his waist. Their hands didn't leave each other as Clark kicked open the bedroom door, their mouths finally unlatching only when he tossed her onto the bed. Eve caught herself and leaned back on her arms, her dress having been pushed up from her landing, raising a leg for good measuring and hoping to look seductive, and watching with a glint in her eye as the taller man leaned over her, lower lip between his teeth. He grabbed her leg under the thigh, found the top of her stockings and—and her skin crawled, tingling from his touch—he began sliding it down her thighs, slow and focused. Her breath caught and her pulse was a jackhammer.
She let him undress her—something she would have freaked about earlier—loving each mesmerizing kiss and every slow removal of article of clothing that fell, until she was left in the lingerie she wore. Then the roles flipped.
And Clark groaned gutturally when her lips trailed down his broad chest to the top of his pants, wishing he hadn't teased her. It was all too tempting...
Finally, they were both stripped. And the two were soon stark naked, tangling in her bedsheets.
This wasn't their first time. No, thisarrangement, for lack of better words, began some months ago. Sure, they had done the courteous thing to date first and go from there. But after the first night spent together, it seemed as if they now mainly got together only to satisfy each other's needs.
Eve swallowed watching Clark climb to hover above her, each of his large hands on either side near her shoulders. His glasses had gotten removed sometime during it all and hopefully rested on her dresser, and she marveled at his features for a moment.
She brushed a curl from his brow and teased that he would get a haircut. He retaliated by attacking her neck again, tickling her sides, and she burst out in laughter.
Yes, they've done this multiple times now and to a point that Cat Grant, in charge of The Planet's gossip column, would get curious and impressed—because it's the soft-spokenClark Kent and the private one Eve Lancaster and—
Eve watched Clark hover aloft her and her breath caught in her throat—this was nowhere near their first time so she couldn't imagine why she felt so giddy like it was.
Her sheets were pale and they still smelled like him, like her perfume of last week and avalanche aftershave.
Clark looked down at her, eyes speaking—it has become an unspoken agreement that he'd get her approval before anything. And she gave a slight nod before they resumed their tongue dance.
He kissed her deeply, passionately.
Their first had been over solace, a sort ofpost-tragedy sex; it had been a mutual feeling, a mutual agreement and much less sober. Eve knew that he was still probably grieving over Lois, and though the thought hurt, she never said.
The kiss broke and Eve sunk into the pillows, feeling him lower, leaving butterfly kisses down her throat, over her pulse and chuckling at its stutter. His hot breath blew before closing slowly around her erect nipple. And a loud whimper escaped her mouth that she didn't want him to hear, feeling him begin to suckle. Her back arched off the bed when his fingers danced around the apex between her thighs along with a high-pitched strangled-like noise that came from low in her throat.
This time he was a lot slower, she noticed.
So, neither had known exactly what to do when they met again at work back then, but it eventually became clear that each wanted the same thing but were too afraid to ask for more.
Clark's nose grazed against her skin as he rose to kiss her mouth once more and she was a pleading, moistened mess in his hand. Her thighs squeezed together in reflex, trapping his wrist.
Back then months ago, he had been sexually frustrated and Eve didn't want to ruin whatever this was they had built between each other. And she had just let him play with her, to take her however he pleased if that's what it took to keep it. And she knew he would always be gentle—especially after accidentally causing pain the first time—given how much stronger he was than her. So when he parted their lips, their noses grazing, and a questioning look on his features as he looked into her eyes once again, she knew he was asking for permission.
"Hold my hand... This might hurt a little," he had warned the first night.
'Always the gentleman.' The thought made her smile.
She tangled her fingers with his, parting herself for him.
She was telling him yes.
He filled her in one clean swoop. His size still surprised her; a sound of shock escaped her feeling him stretching her, it being a while since their last coupling. She squeezed his hand in reflex, gasped, and bit her lower lip, her back raising slightly and Clark paused, letting her adjust. The look of worry didn't leave his features and she knew he was going to stop if she didn't say anything.
Eve leaned up to kiss him as reassurance so he wouldn't.
Her breath caught in her throat as he slid in the rest of his length. And when he started to move, slow and soft at first, Eve whimpered.
The bracelet Clark had given her was for these such occasions. The Kryptonian technology allowed her human body to not be so...breakable, but only whenever she wore it. It did not make her nearly as durable or strong as he was, though. He had told her it was a gift, and as far as she knew, she always wore it and that is all she knew it to be.
The room was filled with kisses, touches, sounds of pleasure for the rest of the night, and the bed's harsh, strained squeaking. The next hours were filled of pure ecstasy.
As much as she didn't want to think about it, Eve feared that their relationship would become purely sexual if it hasn't already, but she didn't allow herself to ponder much on the thought. Not only because that there was a Greek god pleasuring her every night she wanted, but because she realized that she was utterly, unimaginably in love with Clark Kent.
She was in love with Superman.
He snaked his arm under her back, pulling her up to eye level and angling her. Eve grimaced slightly before groaning, her head tossing backwards, her heels digging into the meat of his back and her hands fisting the sheets as her sounds took on a higher, louder pitch. And he kissed her hard. But she was limp putty in his hands and his brows were drawn in concentration and she was close to screaming now...
Eve was sure that her lips would be bruised and sore by morning...as well as the rest of her body...again.
She was in love with a criminal, and she didn't even know it.
AN: Two completely different sides of the same person...i wonder how Eve is going to take it...
I couldn't resist writing this. so sue me
Ever heard the song "toxic" by Yael Naim? you should. it's SO sexy ! :D okay, it's officially Eve and Clark's song. By the way, Eve's face claim is Tabria Majors.
I keep getting followers and favorites for this story and though i thank you for those, but would it hurt you all to write at least one review?! Is that too much to ask?