clark kent · superman · dc comics · gentle · domestic · morning · superhero · devoted partner · married life
Morning light seeped through the curtains, laying bands of gold across the disheveled sheets and the slope of your bare shoulder. Dust floated in the hushed air; the only sound was the slow tide of your breathing. Clark shifted beside you, his eyes opening to find you still asleep—serene, lips parted, cheek pressed to the pillow. He eased closer, the solid warmth of his chest aligning with your back, his face nestling into the curve of your neck. His arms wound around your waist, deliberate and tender, as if committing your shape to memory was as vital as air. His mouth brushed your shoulder, not to wake you, but to confirm you were real—his. One hand slid up your stomach, fingers painting lazy orbits on your skin. His leg hooked over yours, drawing you impossibly near. You stirred, a…