hello, clarklings. my summer volunteering during the week has started up, which takes a lot of my energy, and a lot of my free time is being devoted to my friends. my energy and time for writing is definitely dwindling, but i am still working on it when i find the time!
i will post memes here and there, though, may just post shorter fics as well!
do still love requests though, if you have any ideas. be weird and freaky with it. the grosser, the more motivated i am ♡
this sounds a little weird but it seems like clark enjoys (or at least is good at) tying people up ^^;;
thinking about the weird knot he tied on bobby ++ him restraining mary in that chair (there’s a pattern here methinks..)
it’s all i could think about as i rewatching the movie in theaters for the 3rd time HAHA
maybe you could write smth about him tying the reader up :]? (saw your post asking for requests) (ALSOOO love your fics esp the last one you translate his way of speaking to text really well… idk if that makes sense)
i have been thinking of a bondage fic for a while... i will work on it asap 🫡
i really REALLY love the subtle foreshadowing this movie uses by focusing on coat hangers throughout the film up until the climax where mary breaks pirate clark's beg leg.
randomly the camera will zero in on a coat hanger, and on your first watch it doesn't clock, it's just furniture cause he works in a furniture store
then on the second watch... oh... you were telling us something...
afab reader in mind but that only really applies to one of the letters!
nsfw content below the cut!! <3
clark nsfw alphabet
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
clark is exceptionally good at aftercare. he'll sit there for a bit, making sure you're alright before going to get you a towel and maybe some water, and then he'll rub your back as you lay on his chest afterwards.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
his favorite body part on himself is his hands. they're strong and he knows just how to please you with them.
his favorite body part of yours is your waist. doesn't matter what size or how it looks he's grabbing you there, rubbing his thumbs over your skin, or gripping on tight when he's fucking you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
clark likes to finish all over your ass or back. he's somehow a master of pulling out (you think he can afford kids??) and he'll cum on your abdomen or back depending on the position you're in. he also lovessss to cum in your mouth and watch you choke on it a lil
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
HE HAS JORKED IT IN THE BACKROOMS YOU CAN'T TELL ME OTHERWISE
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
clark was married, and has definitely probably dated before that, so he does have quite a bit of experience.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
he reallyy likes fucking you from behind. he likes folding you over the nearest surface and having his way with you, fingers tangled in your hair. its the position that gives him the most control.
HOWEVERRRRR sometimes, on the rare occasion he's feeling soft and tired, lotus position is really nice....
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
he might be a bit goofy before or after, depending on the situation, but never during the act. he gets very serious, almost aggressively so, in the moment, chasing both his high and yours.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
about as well trimmed as his beard, he's got a nice cute lil patch of black fuzz around his junk
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
clark is kind of an awkward romantic. he can be an absolute sweetheart when he's sober and not stressed about something, making sure to take care of you and be a gentleman. though most of the time, when he's overworked and a little tipsy, he's definitely not as intimate and more handsy and aggressive (in a good way?)
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
clark jerks off a LOT. especially after going through his withdrawal from his marriage. he does it to relieve stress, and he is stressed out all of the time, sooo
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
-daddy kink and/or authority kink, he likes you seeing him as someone who is in charge of you
-choking, he likes headlocking you from behind MMNGFF
-bondage, bro can TIE a KNOT
-praise kink, please tell him he's doing a good job and making you feel good 🥹
-he kinda has a thing for spit...
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
since bro doesn't have a house ya'll are gonna have to make due in the furniture store, OR somewhere in the complex... there's lots of privacy there, totally... or y'know just your house that's an option too
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
usually what gets him going is when you're supportive of him and what he's doing. he feels like a failure all the time even though he won't admit it, and when you tell him he's doing great, he just gets soooooo riled up, makes him wanna make love to you allllll night
that and when youwear revealing clothes PFFF
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
probably anything to do with either of you getting hurt? he'll manhandle you around (he knows you like it let's be for real) but nothing to actually hurt or injure you.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
clark prefers receiving rather than giving, he loves gripping your hair and shoving his cock down your throat. he's cum so quickly from getting head from you its actually insane. however if he's feeling lazy and you're horny, he MIGHT go down on you, if you ask really really nicely
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
clark is usually faster and rougher, considering he's full of stress and anger issues. rarely is he ever truly sensual, however in those few and far in between occasions where he is, dear lord
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
clark isn't opposed to quickies at all, he enjoys the thrill of them, and its a great way too relieve pent up stress at a moment's notice.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
bro risks being seen with you every time you fuck in his store, but its so horrendously dead nobody would see you anyway. unless kat and bobby are working or are there but he usually saves intimate time with you when there's no one around.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
clark is older, not too old but still up there, so he's usually done after one round, two max if he's intoxicated and a little angry.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
clark is pretty opposed to toys, he gets insecure when you bring it up. are his hands and his cock not enough to make you feel good?
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
clark likes to edge you a little, but he's also pretty pathetic himself so he won't do it too much cuz he doesn't want you to do it to him lmao
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
lots of deep grunts and groans, mans prides himself on being quiet but canNOT actually keep his mouth shut. swears a lot too.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
he would really, really really, maybe perhaps like it quite a bit if maybe, HYPOTHETICALLY, you put on his pirate outfit for him...
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
5 inches soft, 7 inches hard, its a slightly darker tone than the rest of his skin, and pretty girthy. it curves upwards and has a tasty little vein along the left side
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
clark is a PATHETIC yearner, he will NEVER admit it but he is, if he isn't thinking about how fucked his job is or his broken dreams he's thinking about you
he can pass out, especially if he's intoxicated while doing the deed. if he's sober he'll stay awake until you feel clean and comfortable, and then he'll probably pass tf out
like... furniture 🛋️ . clark (backrooms) x femreader
2.5k words - free use, intoxicated clark, handsy clark, overstimulation, cuddles after ♡
you couldn't afford a house on your salary, recently out of high school, you scored a job at the local furniture store. the man hiring seemed desperate for an employee. about a month in, he found you crying in the parking lot, and whining about how you were few hundred short on rent, and your landlord asked you to get your stuff out by the next day, noon. clark helped you gather your little belongings that night, and offered you a display bed in his store.
as the days passed, you worked out an arrangement. you got paid a full salary and a free place to live. he got an all access pass to a sweet thing such as yourself.
It was Friday. A warm, summer Friday, and you were working the closing shift in a failing furniture store. A glance to one of the display clocks ticking against the wall told you it was much past closing, but the bristles of your broom shuffled against the floor. You had nothing else to do, nowhere else to go. The dust and debris built up over the week, and the act of cleaning it all, leaving the floor with a dull shine was rewarding. Clark had disappeared somewhere long ago, usually did until these late hours, you assumed he was in the basement. You had learned that by this time, he was usually half a pint down of some cheap whiskey. You knelt, and gathered some specks of dirt and fluffs of dust into the dust pan, wandering back to one of the main trash cans set up by the front desk.
As you clipped the dustpan to the handle of the broom, a certain thudding of a familiar pair of dress shoes against linoleum called your eyes to the staircase. Clark ascended slowly from the basement. He was still in the business casual you usually saw him in. A button up, dress pants. Just a bit wrinkled. He had a certain sway to his gait that told you your assumption about his alcohol consumption was right. You met his eyes, heavy. He took a drudging step towards you, letting a little snort of air escape his nose. The warm toned whiskey swirled in the bottle he held, and he took a quick swig.
"Still cleaning?" He muttered, something you barely heard over the distance, but you gave a nod in response. "Yep, just thought I'd grab the duster." A simple response. Such a positive tone. "Wanted to go over some of the pine side tables, the dark staining really gathers the dust.." So thoughtful. So eager to help out, even with the seemingly pointless work. Clark approached a bit closer, eyes dragging across your body. "Think that can wait." He gestured the bottle of alcohol, it swashed around in the glass. You rested the broom against the desk behind you.
He took a slow breath, a comforting spin twisting the scene in front of him. You had a short sleeve dress on, kind of just looked like a long t-shirt to him. but it flowed easily in the air, perfect for summer. Light, cut off just short enough to get the thoughts rolling. He shifted his weight, eventually taking a few more unsteady steps towards you. "Love that dress, babe." Another gesture with his hand clutching the pint, jabbing a finger in the direction of your legs. The alcohol loosened up his arms, and his filter. You gave a small, appreciative chuckle. "Thank you. Kind of my sleep dress." It was comfortable. Clark neared you with a stalking step, giving a nod. You knew that look, that walk, that tone, and you smelt a subtle hint of whiskey.
The glass found itself onto the desk beside you as he leaned past you, but he was quick to replace the gap between his fingers with your hip. "Get over 'ere." His words were thick from the alcohol in his blood. You stumbled into his large frame as he yanked you closer with ease, familiarity. He was warm, you breathed in the hints of sweat, dust and some basic man-marketed deodorant he applied much too long ago. You weren't opposed to it, though. It was comforting, it was him.
Your head rested against his chest, feeling his breath. He held you close, feeling up your waist and kneading at the flesh around your midsection. "So fuckin' gorgeous." Clark muttered, giving a quick kiss to the top of your head. You melted into him as he felt your body up, down. He even managed to squeeze a few gropes to your breasts here and there, and you stood still, like a deer in headlights, whining eager breaths. You were just what he wanted. Compliant. With a firm grip on your hip, his other hand slid down till he had a hold on your thigh. His fingers snaked up your leg, hot fingertips grazing your soft skin. You grabbed a hold of his abdomen to stabilize yourself, a sudden excitement burrowing into your gut. He was one of the most forward men you'd ever met, and it was wildly attractive. Your dress was tugged up to your stomach until his hand paused around your waist, first thing he noticed was the lack of underwear.
That got a twitch from his crotch. "God, kid." Clark muttered, astonished. It sounded more like a groan than any English word. His eyes flickered with appeal, and you felt a dull heat spread across your abdomen. "So perfect f' me.." You shifted your weight nervously, your thighs squeezing shut.
He let your dress fall back down, his hand moving to the back of your head to tug you close once more. He ground his hard on into your thigh, giving a breathy groan into your ear. You cracked out a shaky breath against his chest, and he gave a drunken chuckle. "Just from thinking 'bout you, you know." He admitted with a mumble, rubbing himself on your leg through his pants once more. "How about.." He brought his hands up from your hips, and spun you around by your shoulders like a fucking puppet, facing you to one of the display beds. "You walk yuh ass to that bed., and bend over, huh?" A light pat hit one of your butt cheeks. "Quick." You jumped at the smack, and the enticing threat.
You nearly tripped over yourself on the way to the plain, yellow bed, Clark followed close behind. He watched you like a cat locked on a bird, waiting for the right moment to sink its claws into those feathers. You felt his eyes burning into you, his eyes glistening with barely poorly concealed desire. Especially once you reached the bed, and bent at the hips. The hem of your dress rode up those perfect thighs, and he hummed at the sight. "Damn, Doll, look at youu.." Clark purred from above. You were glistening with want. Your hands stretched out in front of you on the bed, and you heard the thuds of his heels as he came up right behind you. The anticipation twisted in your gut. He gave a kick to your leg to open you up just enough so his hips could slide right in between your legs. He nestled his tented crotch into the wetness. You gave a light whine into the bed below, your fingers dug into the fabric of the comforter.
"So ready." He praised, sinking his groin into yours. You ached at the feeling of his bulge through the black pants. You gave a wiggle of your hips, eager for him. Clark leaned his body over you, the weight of his mid section sunk into your back, weight to keep you still. He wasn't fit, but what depressed, alcohol-dependent forty year old was? He nearly drank a few days worth of calories per week. "Can feel how wet you are through my pants.." He mumbled, close to your ear. His hands explored up your body, one snaking under your dress to snuggle between your chest and the bed. He grabbed a hold of your chest. He grasped at your boob until he pulled a beautiful little moan from that mouth. That seemed to get him to start working on his belt, the hand on your hip leaving.
You heard a quiet moan from behind you, and the next thing you felt was Clark's warm cock rub up against your folds, spreading your slick across his shaft. You sucked in a breath of air, and wriggled on the display bed. He gave another breezy chuckle, the warmth of his breath brushing against your ear. The tip nudged your hole, and you contracted your muscles, trying your best to pull him in. He didn't have much more patience than you, and slipped the head in with a push of the hips. You welcomed a bit more of him with a sighing moan. It was always a bit of an intrusive feeling at first.
Clark tried to be aware of this. Letting the first three inches marinate in your heat, twitching at the way you nudged your ass back against him. A silent plea to keep going. He was eager to listen. His free hand found its way to your back, but it slid down until he had a hold of the curve of your ass. He dug his fingers in, and began sliding deeper. "Fuuuckk..." He whispered. You took him with little resistance this time, relaxing your muscles into the comfort plush of the bed. He was able to bury himself completely. "Oh, good, good.. yeah.." Mumbles tumbled from his lips as you squeezed his length within you. Clark rubbed his hand up and down your thigh, your hip. Just wanted to feel you. Your skin, it was softer than any false silk he carried at Cap'n Clark's Ottoman Empire.
Didn't take the older man long at all to slowly pull out, relishing the feeling of your wetness that slathered his cock. He let out a thankful breath, directed straight to whatever God blessed him with you under neath him this fine night. So willing. He slid back in all the way. You let out a subtle whine, your body still adjusting to the feeling of his length. He gave a comforting rub to your hip before he repeated the process, dragging himself out, and sheathing back in. You let out another faint moan. Clark cherished those noises, wanting nothing more than to fill this store full of them.
He slowly picked up the pace, slight veins dragging across your sensitive walls. Prickles of pain morphed into pleasure inside your gut as the bed rocked ever so slightly, the thrilling sensations warming your stomach. You gave a less controlled moan at a specific thrust, and Clark cracked his own smirk. Sloppy, drunken bucks of his hips continued to rock that creaking bed as his own groans began to surface. Giving your breast a final squeeze, wishing the soft flesh goodbye, he unearthed his hand from beneath you.
His palm dug into your shoulder, pausing to deliver a few hearty thrusts before his hand found the back of your neck. You felt his weight sink into his hand, and his pace quickened rapidly. You let out a whine of surprise, a bit of pain throbbing through the depths of your stomach. Clark continued, you were squeezing him tighter with each passing breath, and only made you feel that much more incredible to be in. Pleasure pooled in his gut and warmed his face.
A few moments passed of you staring out at the displays of furniture, the arrangements of living spaces that bobbed up and down in your blurring vision. You let noises freely fall from your lips, mainly devolving to little gasps, as your body filled with warmth. Clark was barely paying attention as he lost himself in the movement, absorbed in the feeling, and the alcohol. Even when your pitch raised, and you began to squirm against the bed, he continued.
"Squeezin me so good, baby." Each thrust was sending little shocks of pain through your stomach, intensifying the feeling as you clutched the comforter in between trembling fingers. "Go 'head, cum." He gave you a pat on the hip. You cried out, his name bounced off every inner wall of that building as you came around his dick. The wetness hit him, and your body trembled underneath him. "Oh, honeeyy." He cooed from above, voice thick. His pace lowered a bit, but he continued fucking into you. Your whines got more desperate as he did, overstimulation morphing into pain once more. You gave a squirm against the bed, trying to writhe away.
Clark pulled out, and for a moment you were grateful. And then you were flipped on your back with a rough grab and some effortless maneuvering. Quite graceful for a drunk man. Just as quickly as he had left, he slammed back into you, and you tensed with a yelp. "Hushh.." Clark mumbled, and he tugged you into him by the hip. His other hand reached forward to connect with your hair. He was quick to tangle his fingers in the thick strands. "Jus' wanna look at that face while I fill your pussy up, alright?" He sounded so loving, his thrusts getting sluggish from his own approaching orgasm. You just whined painfully, trying to pull yourself out from his grasp. Clark groaned, annoyed. He guided your face to look right at him, he was heaving, eyes glassy. Sweat made his dark skin glisten under the store's lights. His eyes shut after a few more thrusts, eventually his bottom lip disappeared under his teeth and he let out a gritty 'fuck'. You got real breathy, like you were running out of noises to whimper incoherently. His body sunk into yours, chest pinning your body to the bed. "Fuck, fuck, just another sec.." He insisted in between a few sloppy kisses to your jaw. He buried a particularly loud moan into your throat, and felt himself bust balls deep.. A few slow bucks and he fucked his cum further into your walls, hesitantly pulling out. His semen followed with a slow crawl.
Clark kissed down your neck, across your shoulder, and felt up your hip, your waist and thighs. Comforting you. You sniffled a little bit, but nestled yourself back under his body. It was warm between him the bed you just sweat all over, as well as where Clark's cum was burrowing into the fibers of the comforter. He gave another kiss to your cheek. "Did good." He murmured into your skin, nuzzling his head into yours. He was utilizing this cool-down time to feel the flesh of your thighs properly, massaging them, try and memorize that feeling just to forget the moment he woke up sober.
. ˙ - ✭ - * ✯ .
About twenty minutes later, once you two had both come to terms with having to part, Clark had gotten you both to a different display bed. The one he usually slept in, and fucked in. It wasn't for sale. He'd worry about the bedding of the yellow one tomorrow, maybe knock the price down 15%. You curled under the familiar blankets, they smelt of him. And you. Clark flicked the switch by the front of the store, and the buzzing lights clicked off one by one, plunging the warehouse style building into darkness. He crawled back into the bed, dipping the mattress to one side. You slid with it, snuggling yourself just next to his warm body. He had gotten changed into a simple 70s band tee and boxers. He embraced you with an arm, quickly pulling you for your head to rest on his chest. A pair of lips pressed into the top of your head, and you smiled against him, breathing out.
Exhaustion snuck up on you both as the two of you melted into the comfort.
titsay
romaincrisis
yousharknotpass
