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.
save a ship, ride a pirate! ⚓ pirate clark (backrooms) x femreader
3.2k words - first time (pirate clark), whiney captain, monsterfucking, size difference <3
Had you been here before? The gnawing thought ran through your head every few turns you made, especially when you saw an oddly familiar chair sticking out of the wall, disregarding all laws of physics. The walls all looked the fucking same. The lights were buzzing above you and bathing this world in a luminous yellow that further impaired your navigational skills. You were annoyed by your situation, but there was no choice but to continue on your journey through the stale labyrinth of grey carpet. The floors creaked under your boots as you made your way through another high doorframe. Another nagging thought was where the fuck was Clark? He said he'd be back at eleven, but when he didn't show back up in the basement by one in the morning, you went in looking for him. Not the smartest move, but hindsight is 20/20 and now your only chance out of that place was finding him.
He was obsessed with it, mapped it all out, he knew this place like the back of his hand. You kept trekking across the dull carpet, calling his name every so often, but there was no response except for a light echo of your own voice. The longer you went, the more isolating it was becoming. The lack of sound besides from the hum of the electricity was driving you crazy. You rounded a corner, but something stood right in your path. You knew that figure, and once your vision lifted, you knew that face. That.. version of Clark stood tall, swaying its heavy weight from the peg leg to the regular full-fleshed version. That body creaked like a tree. A pang of fear shot down to your gut at the sight. You had met three to four times in passing, but Clark shooed it away for privacy before you really got to interact much. In response, the pirate developed a habit of stalking, creeping around your guy's hangouts, watching. Now, he was here with you, without Clark. He could get up close. His peg leg thudded against the carpet as he took a dragging step towards you.
"Captain.. Hi." Clark told you he seemed to enjoy that nickname. Judging by the softening of the entity's perpetual frown, Clark was right. Your voice was bubbling with nerves despite you trying to mask them, that creature didn't seem great at picking up on it any way. Its head moved in a nod, as a hello, but still it advanced on you. Your neck was already craned to keep an eye on it. "Just looking for Clark.." You explained, but the creature continued closer. Fear began to spark up brighter as its consistent stride fed the flame. You took a step back as the pirate broke into your personal bubble, but that little step wouldn't save you. The Captain's malformed hand extended with an agility you didn't expect. A hand clamped on your clothes before you made it anywhere far. It didn't let go, just strained its knuckles against that fabric. The pirate yanked you back with the collar of your shirt, and you lurched closer. Your feet hovered over the ground, the toe of your boot stretching to touch the carpet. It clutched your head close to its face, eyes wide. He was examining you. The black fabric stretched roughly within his seven fingers, some of the stitching snapped with a crack, exposing the faint curve of your collar bone. That peek of your delicate skin only seemed to spur the creature on. The rough treatment was familiar, in a way, but this wasn't hostile or hateful like Clark's. It was curiosity. His actions were what he learned from Clark. "Cap-? Please-" Your voice came out as a squeak. You were attempting to get some control of the situation, trying to get his attention. He ignored you. The slight scratch of his facial hair itched across your neck. It inhaled a big breath into those replicated lungs, and gave a weak whine at the scent. You swallowed in response. It seemed utterly entranced with the scent of humans. You were slightly scared of being eaten, you would admit. Especially as that mouth creaked open, and you felt teeth graze you. That threat turned you on a bit, yeah. You didn't seem like the only one enjoying this, though.
In a strangely natural kind of way, you placed your hand near the back of his head. You felt it out, splaying your fingers against him. It almost felt comforting, the way you held Clark. The pirate gave a gentle nuzzle into you, before he reluctantly pulled himself back. For the first time you've seen, there wasn't terror in his eyes. You stared, and he stared right back. You saw a new shine in his eyes. You brought your hand around, lifting the other one up to the collar of that costume. You toyed with it, ran your thumb across the soft bit of his neck. That made his breath shift. A few breaths passed before one of his large hands slid right down to the back of your thighs. His arms were long as all hell, and he maneuvered you down onto the floor with ease before you could utter the phrase 'land ho!'. You rolled out onto your back, adjusting your weight on the carpet to find some semblance of comfort. Something about him, you didn't want to fight. The Captain was quick to crawl down onto his knees, shifting his large, lanky frame on top of you until he was steady. His body blocked the fluorescent lights from bugging your eyes any longer. The way he was hunched over you, his long legs kept his hips high, but his face swayed inches from yours.
Buggy eyes stared down at you. His eyes wandered, it was obvious. He drifted his gaze down your body. Comparatively, you were tiny, and that affected him in ways he didn't quite understand. The pirate brought his eyes back up to your face, they shined with a desperate gloss. This really was happening. You lifted your head up off the floor, and connected your lips with his. Captain felt utter delight shoot through his body. He kissed back greedily, just as he observed Clark do all these months. For so very long he was left alone, left to squirm with the memories Clark made with you that haunted the pirate's consciousness. Now, he could make his own. His saliva spread across the outer rim of your lips as he sucked hungrily. He wasn't letting up, his mouth consuming your bottom lip. Your tongue picked up hints of sweet but earthy tones, almost meaty. An ache in your chest reminded you to breathe. A hand of yours grappled onto his shoulder as you tried to separate for a second. You gasped a breath into your lungs as he pulled off. You massaged his shoulder, digging your finger tips into that muscle, and the captain purred happily. You shot your shot. "Can I... How about.. I get on top?" You asked, slightly hesitant, your mind was overwhelmed with worse case scenarios.
He paused for a long, terrifying moment, seemingly mulling over the suggestion. The debating silence was broken by him grunting and enveloping each side of your hips with both sizable hands. In a move executed with way more agility than you expected, he flipped the roles. The pirates back thumped on the floor as he spun the two of you around, and you landed right on his mid section. The large belt buckle dug into your crotch in a torturous way. You gave a light whine, and shifted yourself down the pirate's body, but what you landed on didn't really alleviate your discomfort. Captain responded with a buck of his hips, grinding into you. A sharp breath was drawn from your lips. He was hard as a rock, you felt him clearly through both layers of fabric. He was enormous, body and dick, you were already trying to both hype yourself up and calm yourself down. Your head fell low, and you stared down at where he ground up into you, your other hand was quick to find his chest. Even that was a reach from your position. Captain gave little groans, they drawled from his mouth with surprise. Your eyes went to meet his face. His lopsided eyes were pinched shut, mouth agape as he drew in shaky breaths.
One of your hands drifted lower, the other following slowly, you landed on his belt. The leather was thick, but you tugged at it until either end fell to the carpet below, letting you work on tugging the purple sash from his waist. Captain had no objection as you shed the layers off of his skin, his only response seemed to be an eager squirm of the hips. Sensing the impatience below you, you forgot about the shirt, simply shoving it up his torso. You shuffled a bit down his thighs, the pirate gave a disappointed groan from the loss of weight. Nimble fingers worked at the buttons of his brown slacks, and the janky zipper undid with a bit of a fight. The lack of underwear took you by surprise, and the eleven inch cock leaped out. Your heart skipped a beat, but you swallowed that fear with a gulp.
A few moments passed, the air filled with heavy breaths, until you layered your much smaller hand on top of his. He opened his eyes, craning his head up to look at you. You slid it from your hip, onto the buckle of your own belt. "Undo it." You gave a directing nod, and he complied. With a small struggle, he got it off, and moved to your pants. You helped him nudge them down your legs, hitting some less than graceful positions to get them far enough. You gave a grunt of frustration, before nestling back down onto his lap. He purred with satisfaction, feeling up your newly revealed thighs. One hand could nearly wrap around your entire leg, and he kneaded gratefully at the flesh he was given. You slowly drug yourself across his length, the slick spot left on your underwear ground against his cock. He gave a groan, and lifted up into you. He was getting a bit more confidence. He scrambled one hand to tug your panties out of the way, the other guiding your hips up to grind your pussy across every inch. You left a smear of wetness across him, and you slid all the way back across to the base and rested into his thighs.
It was almost painfully slow, but you couldn't help but stall. You could tell Captain was getting antsy. His dick twitched against you, his lower body was aching with anticipation. Your hand pat up his abdomen until you landed on his chest, giving a squeeze, you looked into his eyes. They seemed eager, but relaxed. Comfortable. "Okay- okay.. we're gonna go slow?" Part instruction, part plead. "K? Nice and gentle." You reiterated. The pirate nodded. "K." It was a rumble from his chest.
Captain suddenly grabbed the side of your panties with both hands, and the fabric tore with a tug. You took a deep breath. He shoved the ripped fabric to the side, and started helping you lift your hips high enough. You straightened your thighs up, and he wrapped his hand around the base of his dick. He guided the angle until the tip nudged your hole. You shut your eyes tight, enticing colours danced across the backs of your eyelids. You drew in a quick breath. His hips twitched up, a droplet of precum smearing across you. He was trying so very hard to be still, but he was squirming with need. "So good, Captain. Doing so good." You assured, petting his chest with your thumb. Slow as can be, you followed his hand guiding you down onto the head, and paused. The stretch was sizable, but spine tingling. He gave you a moment, until you initiated the next few inches, stopping with a whine just short of five total. "Oh god." You dug your nails into his chest, swaying a bit to feel it out. Pleasure twisted in your gut, and Captain was borderline panting. His hips twitched up in a moment of weakness, but the wobbly, shocked 'fuuck' it seemed to earn him had him stopping short. You tried to pull up a bit, but that grip on your hip wasn't letting you go anywhere.
"Cap- please, please, easy." You patted his chest. He didn't think this was easy at all, nor did he want to go easy but he gave you a few seconds to breathe and loosen the hold your walls had on him. His hand left the base of his cock, and slid over the top of your thigh. "Okay.." You relaxed with a sigh, finally. He applied some pressure on your thigh while also pulling your other side down. Pain shot towards your stomach as you continued to slide down. You were slick. It went smooth until you tensed up on him again, squeezing down on the seven inches. The pirate groaned at the sensation of the sudden tightness all around. He tilted his head back, and his hat tumbled to the ground. Your breath quickened as you focused on adjusting to the size. He didn't give you much time at all, now, the second he felt your muscles twitch looser, he brought you down and his hips up. You yelped, hearing your own shock echo across the wallpaper. You felt him twitch, all the way inside you. You were so fucking warm, the captain's tongue almost rolled out of his mouth. You enveloped him so well.
He wasn't moving, and you opened your eyes, adjusting your hands so that you could hold onto his chest for support. "Good boy. Stay. Please." You whispered. You rubbed one hand across his chest, and you bent at the hips. The shift in position caused his cock to hit you in a new angle, and you gave a subtle moan. You muffled yourself with his chest, pressing a kiss to the fabric of that pirate costume. In a surprisingly human moment, the man brought his hand up to the side of your head. He dug all seven fingers into the locks, and softly massaged at the roots. Your head turned, and you rested your cheek down onto the warmth of his chest, and you heard that heartbeat. You listened for a few moment. The deep thudding inside his chest, the expansion and sinking of his diaphragm. You let out a big breath, and relaxed around him. An appreciative grunt was given into the top of your head, and he began pulling you off, slowly.
"Yes- yes, yes.." You whispered, clutching his shirt tight. His hand squeezed in your hair, the other guiding you all the way back down onto his cock. You both delightfully sighed at that. It felt so perfect. The Captains next few thrusts were perfectly paced, his tip dragging across your walls and drawing all the heavenly breaths from your lungs. "Okay.." Your hand straightened out the wrinkles your fist had caused in his vest. "Little faster.." He jumped at the confirmation, quickly sheathing himself right back into your welcoming warmth. You squealed just as he pulled out and slipped back quickly. He started giving half-assed thrusts, only giving six or seven inches. That got you gasping and planted your fingers back into the fabric of his top. Moans tripped off your tongue, and you tried to bury them all the same.
At the loss of those exquisite sounds, Captains hand fumbled on your head until he had you pinned by the temple and your airway was free. He slammed fully inside just to hear you cry out. "God- Cap!" Your hand slid up to his shoulder, and you grappled onto it, desperate to ground yourself. Your abdomen was lighting up with little sparks of a tasteful discomfort. Once he was getting fully in with each thrust, his grip on your hair was getting painful. His breathing was getting louder, whinier with each pull out. You gave a testing squeeze of your muscles, and the stutter in his hips confirmed your suspicions. You tried to strangle some words out. "Loving this, huh, baby?" You just managed, breathily.
All the captain could manage was a genuine moan that croaked out of his throat. He sped up his pace, his large body almost writhed with each thrust. He held you down to his chest by the neck, angling your hips just right with the help of your compliance. Another grumbled moan accompanied the wet squelching of your soaked heat. A pooling warmth spread across the pirates abdomen, and he chased that feeling desperately.
You were reaching your own peak, tightening around him, and losing yourself in the sensation. Pain shot across your back and ass, as in the blink of your eye, you were slammed onto the floor. Then pain hit the very top of your pelvis as the towering man continued his pace, finally having some real control. You squealed, back arching off the dusty carpet he had you sprawled on. "Fuck- Cap, oh my god!" One hand still pinned your hips to the floor as he drove his cock into you, the other wrapping behind your head to stop it from slamming on the ground with each rocking thrust. A leg of yours wrapped around his hip, and you felt your pleasure reach its peak. You gave a loud whine. With the tightening of you, and the sudden flood soaking his tip as he buried himself in you, Captain was getting sloppy. "Please- please, in me!" You rushed to blurt out, not that it really mattered. He wouldn't end this any other way. He gave a few weak thrusts, whining gibberish with each one. He let out one more lasting groan as you felt a certain oozing heat fill you up. Both your guy's releases flood out from around his base as he slowly pulled out. With a twitch, a bit more cum dripped onto your stomach.
The captain's hands snaked under your back, they were warm as they separated your sweaty body from the gray carpet. One slid under your armpit as he maneuvered you like a doll, exhausted and spent, dripping his cum. You body was slack in his hands, but he pulled you right up with him, positioning you onto your own two knees in between his. You felt a mix of fluids smear between your thighs. The large man cradled you close to his chest, still expanding with heaving breaths. You nestled between his legs, letting his arms support your upper half. You sunk your weight into him. He ran a hand along the side of your head, flattening out your messy hair with such care.
"I love you." You heard that mumble, that croak, groan. Whatever you wanted to call it, it rang in your ears from above, and nothing else mattered in that moment. You brought a dwarfed hand up to his chest, and felt at the fabric, nuzzling your head into him. "Love you too." A whisper escaped, slightly muffled by your proximity, but felt all the same.
clark helping captain clean up after he murders and eats a wanderer clark led to him. . . clark carefully undressing him, taking care of his bloodied costume, washing it for him 💚
can you imagine that clark practises his pirate persona for the adverts so much it starts leaking into his vocabulary. like he’s talking to someone and is like “watch your mouth you skallywag.”
dededos
germansingergirl
gummygunk
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
