SUNDAY MORNING WITH HOUSEHUSBAND!CLARK
clark kent x fem!reader
content: established marriage, +18, smutt, sub!clark, no use of y/n, second person!, morning seggs, body worship, praise kink, mommy kink, oral (fem!receiving)
a/n: can read as a standalone, but same reader from househusband!clark headcannons
wc: 1k+
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Sunday mornings were always your favorite. A nice day off without the stress of work looming over you, the office phone ringing nonstop, and all the million responsibilities that came with being a powerful businesswoman. You finally got to sleep in a little and bask in the comfort of your woolly sheets. And the best part, waking up beside your stay-at-home hubby, Clark.
Your eyes flutter open at the sun’s bright rays peaking through the curtains. His 6’4 frame engulfs you in his sleep; you two always ended up in this position. His huge arm is sprawled across your abdomen in a firm, possessive grip. Like he was scared to lose you while unconscious.
You shift slightly in an attempt to not awaken him while also breaking away from his embrace. The second he feels you move, he holds you tighter and lets out a sleepy groan.
“Mmm…don’t leave me. Stay in bed…” he murmurs into your neck.
You just chuckle, “baby, it’s time to get up, it’s—
You quickly reach over and tap your phone screen for the time. “It’s almost noon! We basically slept the whole morning.”
With his eyes still shut, he whispers in your ear, “Relax, honey, I wanted you to get some more sleep. You haven’t been getting enough rest, especially after the month you’ve had.”
“That’s sweet and all but—
“Please, just stay in bed…I’ll make us breakfast right after.” He begs, and you suddenly become aware of his morning wood pressing against your ass. You understand that “after” meant after you let him be inside you, but you enjoy toying with him, so you remain coy.
“After what exactly? Hmm?” Your bum rubs against his thick, hard-on covered by his Superman undies. He usually doesn’t like wearing his own merch, but he’ll wear anything you buy him.
“After I…show you…” He presses a kiss between each word across your neck. “Just how much I care for you, honey. I want you…to feel good…” You shudder at the sensations of him pecking your cheeks, lips, and collarbone. He travels downwards, kissing your cleavage and lower abdomen.
Clark loves showing you his utmost devotion and how gorgeous you are. He takes the time to worship each part of you first by grabbing your hand and bringing another kiss to it. Then he returns to your lower half and ever so gently lifts your satin nightgown.
He moans at the mere sight of your bare cunt. “My gosh, she’s so pretty.” You playfully roll your eyes at his comments, as if he hasn’t seen you thousands of times. But it still makes your heart flutter, how special he makes you feel time and time again.
“Oh, my sweet boy,” you coo as he kisses your inner thighs whilst sliding his large hands underneath to squeeze your bottom. His growing length throbbed at the praise. He just loved being your good boy; it was his life’s mission. He ensures that your thighs are covered in invisible marks, not wanting to miss a single spot.
“Every inch of you is perfect, babe.” Clark breathes out after inhaling your cunt’s bare scent, so intoxicating. You could feel his breath hitting your cunt’s lips and the very tip of his nose against your dewy slit. In a tortuously slow manner, he licks a strip up your clit.
You hated his teasing; that was your job. He doesn’t control the pace; you do. Your fingers firmly grip his hair, but not so harshly, just as a reminder. “Uh-uh, you know better, Clark,” you exhaled as his tongue drew soft strokes. “If you’re gonna eat me out, do it properly.”
Oh, how he loved your stern tone. When you would get a little strict. He could feel his cheeks growing red. “Yes, ma’am,” was all he muttered before parting your lips and delving his tongue inside. “Fuckk!” you jolted as he began to lap at your aching cunt. He was so desperate to please you.
He flicks his tongue so skillfully against your wetness, and your lilting whines and moans only spur him further. He sucks and sucks, wet squelching noises quickly filling the room. Your skin grew hot with the rising intensity, and your legs started to tremble. Your hand grips the sheet for stability.
“Just like that, mommy? Goodness, you taste amazing.” He looks up at you with those furrowed brows and soft eyes, a stark contrast from his filthy mouth. The sound and vibrations of his baritone voice, paired with him eating you out, made you short-circuit. “Just like that, bab—” your breath hitches when he pushes a finger inside.
Your fingers find his hair again, and you rake them through his black curls. Incoherent curses and mumbles spill from your lips as his thick digit slides in and out. “You make mommy feel so good…holy shittt!” You yelp when he adds another. It’s becoming too much. His tongue curls and his fingers pump into your walls at such a frantic pace. He can tell you're close, and he’ll do anything to get you there.
He pumps, licks, and sucks endlessly until your back arches off the mattress and your thighs shake as you dissolve into absolute pleasure. You cry out his name, and he looks up to admire your face in this blissful state. You truly were a work of art to him. Clark, nonetheless, proceeds to lap up all your juices as you ride out your high. He didn’t stop until every last drop of cum was in his mouth.
Your chest heaving begins to slow as you recover from the moment of pure ecstasy. You ruffle his already messed-up curls and watch him through half-lidded eyes. “My precious baby knows just how to treat mommy well, doesn’t he?” you purr.
“Mhmm,” he nuzzles into your touch. Then he winces when he accidentally ruts into the mattress. You smirk and beckon him over with your finger, “Come here.”
He’s on top, encasing you with his big arms. But you gently pull his jaw closer, bringing your lips together. You moan into him at the taste of your arousal. You drag your manicured nail down his chest, and suddenly palm his thickness. He whimpers and almost comes right then and there from the burning contact.
“Let mommy fix that.”
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© beatificwrites










