𝐇ey, you. this is 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 (now 𝐚𝐯𝐫𝐢𝐥 ) and i’m posting this from my new account. as i recently stated, my former account has been suffering weird glitches, restrictions, my posts stopped reaching as much interaction as they used to ( aka flopping ) and because of this, and what annoyed me the most, i felt it impossible to interact or use the platform well. thus, thought about starting again and maybe repost all my work. i hope this isn’t a bother to you as much as it is to me. beside the user and pinned post, i won’t change anything from the other account, it will stay as a reblogging of my posts blog.

𝐈’ll appreciate whoever shares this post so any moot or former follower finds me again. thx !

( 🎹 ) ────── 𝗂'𝗆 𝗁𝗒𝗉𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗂𝗇𝗀.

have you heard of her ? 𝐀𝐕𝐑𝐈𝐋 ! ( or yves ) ꒱

𝗺𝘆 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗎𝗋𝖾 . ♡ ──── 𝐋𝐀𝓣𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝓦𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑

ese amigo que reniega x todo ( it’s me ! ) theme 𝑓reak twentie-one ᨘ໑ read my guidelines b4 interacting ( !!! ) 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 ( gonna block you ) 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭’𝓈 sweetheart 𓏲ּ𝄢 writing when feeling so ‧ ⸝⸝ join my community for fic news/spoilers !!

@ yvesmour . 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. ©

゛◜ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐘 ◞ ୢ˚

( reposted fic ) ﹫ w. by yvesmour

♡̶ 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓 ಇ fem ! reader ⟢ ∿ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 clark feels ashamed for whimpering so much n’ you encourage him to let go himself . 𝟓𝟐𝟑 words.

♩ . 𓈈

𝒾. 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐄 .. nsfw ( minors do not interact ) , smut w little plot , p in v , whimpering mess ! clark 𖬺 aroused by male whimpering ! reader , mention of misogynistic ideas ( not condoned ) 𐐩 tell me if i forgot any tag !

𝒾𝒾. 𝑚asterlist 𝒾𝒾𝒾. inbox 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛

𓂅 ౿ 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬. 𑂯 ׄ . 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 . . . joel miller && f!reader ( reposted fic )

❝ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 joel can’t help but touch you every chance he got.

do not be interacting if you’re a minor

317w. / w. by @ yvesmour

𝓙oel was handsy. You had discovered it throughout all the time spent together ever since your relationship turned official. In bed, in the kitchen, inside the trunk, outside the house, at the supermarket. Suddenly, there were brushes, pats, squeezes, anytime. His hands everywhere on you—as if it all was a game of ‘Where would Joel put his hand now?’ It seemed that, as soon as you were on sight, he needed to feel you, check on your tangibility, assure your realness. Touching you became a must-to-do task. However, he was his own kind of handsy, which was quick and secrecy. Casual, yet restless. Neither Sarah nor Tommy ever caught a glance of these displays of affection, these reminders of ‘I acknowledge your presence. I see you in every room.’ No one did it but you, who jumped and giggled the first times, taken by surprise, when his rough fingers—worker’s fingers—wrapped around your left side for a squeeze and go. Now, you were more than accustomed to it, of course. Your voice didn’t falter or trembled anymore because he grabbed you softly by the hips to pass behind you. You let it slide. Neither did you scolded him with your eyes, half-panicked, for slipping a hand behind you to feel your ass. You knew he was careful with it.

He barely acknowledged such behaviour. He wasn’t teasing, filthy or annoying about the matter. He just touched you silently and that was it for the day. When you took advantage of his vulnerability under the sheets, he simply said, “I do it to stretch my hands. They get numbed often.” You brushed him off with a chuckle, “Do not play with me.” And he smirked sideways, the way you loved. “I am here, you know? Every time,” you reassured him.

Because maybe that was it: Joel only needed to make sure you were still there.

taglist : @chloeee20 @hailmary-yramliah @angelryex @amourflores (join here !)

author’s note : first rewritten fic ! a really short one because i’m currently preparing exams, but wanted to do my return to writing someway. <3

﹗✺ made in south america ; in 2004 .

to introduce 𐔌 𝑎𝑣𝑟𝑖𝑙 ; a 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝒘𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫！ 𑅕

“ do you remember the 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 .. we fell in 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 ?

@ yvesmour . 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. ©

made in south america ; produced in 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟒 ᮫ ࣪ 𓈒 A ㅤ𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐍𝓔𝓦 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. ©

୧⠀⠀𓈒⠀ love me , love me say that you love me ⋆ ༅ a 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑎 writer w/ no ideabout love or english ꒰ 𝒂𝒗𝒓𝒊𝒍 ꒱ in her pink20s ☆ HOT SUMMER HOT .ᐟ.ᐟ forever 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑡 ‘sweetheart + oscar isaac’s pretty amor ⋆ . ˚ 𓇼 inbox & requests open ! minors go away

© written by 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑

Ever since you were kids, Clark has been weak for your word. He obeyed any petition you made: he was a victim of your pranks and risky games, an active accomplice of your childish crimes, the best secret keeper. Everything on your behalf. As you grew up, you calmed down, but he was already in love with you and you suddenly found yourself with a massive lap dog. On his knees, ready to listen to every word, to help you discover yourself or achieve any ambition you had. He encouraged you to go to Metropolis with him to follow that career you wanted so much, he paid the rent for months while you struggled to make ends meet with your shitty college student job, he cooked—or tried to—so you’d had a meal in the fridge for when you arrived at midnight, he used his first pay from the Daily Planet to take you out—same day he kissed you and lost his virginity. He waited till you felt ready to call what you had a relationship, to say ‘I love you’ back. 

He gave himself to you so easily, sometimes you felt overwhelmed, and other times you took advantage of it for the silliest things. 

“Can you stop moving for a second?” you huffed, sitting up. “Don’t frown either. It makes it harder to pull the hair.” Clark lifted a hand and rubbed his brows, mumbling, “Sorry.” He blinked and relaxed his frown, although he had a harder time with relaxing his body. He basically had you straddling his waist, your bare knees touching his sides and your face really close to his. He didn’t understand since when you cared about his brows, but, again, he never questioned you. He simply laid on your bed and let you sit on him with your tweezers. 

You were particularly easy to annoy that afternoon, he assumed the summer got you like that sometimes. You noticed it on your own, that’s why a laugh left your lips mid-complain sometimes. “Do not look me in the eye!” “Why? I’m just looking!” Clark spoke back this time. Then, you chuckled, pressing a palm over his eyes, “It makes me nervous. I can’t concentrate.” Clark chuckled too and took your wrist, pulling your hand away. “Where am I supposed to look then?” he asked. You shifted on his waist, ass pressing just above his crotch, making him swallow and hold your hips. Due to the hot weather, you were wearing shorts that almost let your cheeks out and a thin straps tank top. He had avoided looking at your breasts the whole time, therefore your eyes were the safe target. But you said, “I don’t know. Look down!” 

And Clark knew he wasn’t going to last much without a hard cock if he had a front seat at the sight of your breast pressed together and your buttocks teasing his crotch.

a/n: this is actually a rewritten old blurb i had in my deleted account. wanted to bring it back since i haven’t posted any fic this week, but wanted to give you something.

taglist : @angelicprincess12 @l0singctrl @x-fanaccount1-x @randomfanpage @soggywhore @renegadebirch @marvel-hiddles-stark @hufflepooooff @i-cant-stfu @hopperbopper @pittsick @maryjaneeeee @luvdeuce @shackoflove @bubby-bby @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @chloeee20 @brooklynadoresdior @hailmary-yramliah ( join here )

𝐇ey, you. this is 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 (now 𝐚𝐯𝐫𝐢𝐥 ) and i’m posting this from my new account. as i recently stated, my former account has been suffering weird glitches, restrictions, my posts stopped reaching as much interaction as they used to ( aka flopping ) and because of this, and what annoyed me the most, i felt it impossible to interact or use the platform well. thus, thought about starting again and maybe repost all my work. i hope this isn’t a bother to you as much as it is to me. beside the user and pinned post, i won’t change anything from the other account, it will stay as a reblogging of my posts blog.

𝐈’ll appreciate whoever shares this post so any moot or former follower finds me again. thx !

𝐢. 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 & 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𓈒 ᯇ 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑡&&f.ᐟreader

⠀⸺ cw : smut w tiny plot , established relationship , unprotected p in v , begging , restraining , overstimulation , breeding , power dynamics , not proofread

© written by 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑

Clark was, above all, a kisser.

He enjoyed the act of matching each other’s mouth, of feeling your sighs hit his face, of lovable intimacy. It didn’t always lead to sex: sometimes they were just simple make-outs over the counter, pecks on bed, a path of kisses from your shoulder to your temple, a session that could go till his lips were numb. On many occasions, he had fallen asleep on top of you, lips brushing your neck and heavy body suffocating you, after he hadn’t stopped even though his kisses had turned lazy and his hums groggy long ago. He couldn’t live without your kisses—at least a peck he yearned all the time. And you were always compassionate enough to grant it to him. 

In addition, he was a touchy kisser. His hands were always free to squeeze your flesh, pull you to him or hold you. Even when he was packed with files or stuff, his arm always enveloped you and you felt his little finger sneaking inside your blouse or skirt, rubbing your skin. He interrupted his calls to peck your lips and maybe drag you around with him because if kissing wasn’t enough, he compensated it with pulling you around. He played dumb so often with the touching thing, as if no one would notice how he kept a hand on your lower back most of the time, pinched your hips or gripped your arms when passing by as if there was never enough space, or accidentally landed a hand on your bottom, quickly pulling it away with a mumbled “sorry” as if he didn’t even mean it. He was so good at pretending in front of others, but inside the walls of your shared apartment, he craved you unashamedly. 

And you were a teaser. You loved hearing the breathless “One more kiss, please”, “I need it so much”, “I’m gonna die if you don’t give it to me, I'm not even joking.” and you pushed them out of him often. You broke the kiss so he would chase you; didn’t answer when he leaned absently to receive your lips; pulled your hips away so he had to squeeze them harder and force you to meet hips, frowning confused; ride him hard to make him unable to speak and ask for a kiss. 

Sometimes you didn’t let him touch you at all, having his arms behind his back and riding him all the way up and down, savagely. Clark, a mess of pleads. Muffled broken babbles and uneven exhales of air: “Ye—yeah… Ple—please, I—Ah…” His eyes either rolling up or narrowing and his head completely dizzy. The desire to touch you and the restriction of his hands lit a fire inside his stomach, making it both a hard rock and a sensitive zone. All of it injected itself in his cock as you squeezed it with your pussy. Just when he was mumbling, “Squeeze me, keep squeezing me, pe—please.” You knew he was about to come, so you became merciful and leaned forward, without stopping to bounce on his cock, and hovered your mouth over his. He was so taken by the pleasure that he didn’t even try to meet your mouth—he waited for your will. The same thing he did when you pulled his hands off from under his back and placed them on your hips; they were limp and trembling. Finally, when your wall squeezed him one more time and he let out his last gasp before unloading himself inside you, your mouth enveloped his, sucking, and his fingers squeezed your hips with all his strength.

⠀⸺ taglist : @pittsick (join here ! )

𝐇ey, you. this is 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 (now 𝐚𝐯𝐫𝐢𝐥 ) and i’m posting this from my new account. as i recently stated, my former account has been suffering weird glitches, restrictions, my posts stopped reaching as much interaction as they used to ( aka flopping ) and because of this, and what annoyed me the most, i felt it impossible to interact or use the platform well. thus, thought about starting again and maybe repost all my work. i hope this isn’t a bother to you as much as it is to me. beside the user and pinned post, i won’t change anything from the other account, it will stay as a reblogging of my posts blog.

𝐈’ll appreciate whoever shares this post so any moot or former follower finds me again. thx !

𝐇ey, you. this is 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 (now 𝐚𝐯𝐫𝐢𝐥 ) and i’m posting this from my new account. as i recently stated, my former account has been suffering weird glitches, restrictions, my posts stopped reaching as much interaction as they used to ( aka flopping ) and because of this, and what annoyed me the most, i felt it impossible to interact or use the platform well. thus, thought about starting again and maybe repost all my work. i hope this isn’t a bother to you as much as it is to me. beside the user and pinned post, i won’t change anything from the other account, it will stay as a reblogging of my posts blog.

𝐈’ll appreciate whoever shares this post so any moot or former follower finds me again. thx !

• michael ‘robby’ robinavitch && fem!reader

content 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 : this is my idea of him from how little i watched from the show , established relationship , smut no plot , f!masturbation, overstim orgasm , mention of squirting

© written by 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝓡obby was a dedicated man. Dedicated to his job, to his people, to you. He never grumbled about learning, taking new cases or practising. If it weren’t for his aforementioned attitude, he wouldn’t be where he was now at the hospital, at his relationship with his people or you. 

“Is this how you like it, sweetheart?” His index and middle fingers pressed together to leave no inch of your clit without being stimulated. His other hand —thumb and index finger— spread your lips to expose it more to the air, to his rubbing. Your legs were wide open, the right one caged under his elbow; the other one fighting the tremble and twitches of wanting to close. His bed was so comfortable you could squirm, arch and shake over the softness of his mattress and sheets. Your bottoms were discarded in a corner next to the door and only your tight lace white shirt was on, not button open, because this was about your pussy, nothing else.

Robby wanted to earn this: your orgasm. Not that he hadn’t made you come before, he does, but never like this—masturbating you. He had with his cock, mouth and words, but with his hands? He still had a lot to learn about your way.

It was your petition. You always worshipped his hands: big, calloused, full of history. You took long minutes just looking at them resting on any surface, until one day, while he was gathering his stuff to leave for work, you looked how he held his keys, his phone and his wallet all in one big hand and long fingers; then you told him from the counter, “I really want you to make me cum with your fingers.” 

And there you were. 

“Oh, yes, Michael!” you gasped, jerking up your hips. His circles had turned into quick side to side friction. His fingers were angled perfectly to meet the very skin of your swollen clit. “Aw, yes!” Words slipped through your lips, followed by a groan. The very sight of him being so practical, rubbing your clit as if it was part of a serious job—his face was frowning in concentration, not a single glance away from your pussy, He wanted to do this right. 

“Can I push my fingers inside or do you need more of this?” he asked loud over your whines. You nodded desperately and opened your mouth to guide him but his fingers did an unexpected rub up and down, so slowly it took a broken whine from you. “Huh?” He encouraged you to repeat yourself. You lifted a hand which fell on top of your stomach, too weak. “K—Keep… Keep rubbing and… also—Oh!” Your body twitched and your eyes almost rolled up. “Th—thumb.” 

Robby nodded and changed his hands placement. The lips of your pussy relaxed and he took the same hand spreading them seconds ago and pressed his thumb against your clit, you swallowed a moan and your hips shook. His other hand spread its fingers, pressing only the middle and ring one together to insert them in your wet hole. The sticky sound of your juices made him groan deeply and you squeaked when the emptiness disappeared. You squeezed his fingers and he exhaled through his nose. “Do I start?” he asked, giving you a quick glance. You were a total mess. You nodded and before you could guide him to start fast, he already did, taking a loud moan out of you. “Oh, fuck!” He bumped his fingers in and out of you, his palm slapping against your pussy, making nasty sounds. The thumb started to rub your clit up and down. 

Oh lord, you were losing your mind. It was more than you could handle, you were going to break—squirt if it was any possible, yet you didn’t feel it coming. It felt like the previous part of the orgasm —the most enjoyable—lasted more than it used to. You felt your body fill with joy and mumbled to Robby, “Oh, I love you. I love you so much, please, keep going. Keep going.” A roar rasped your throat as his thrusts kept a high speed. He handled both tasks at the same time perfectly.

“Are you coming? Tell me, baby,” he said, heavy breathing. You nodded and whined as a yes, to which he said, “Then do it. Do it. I got you, I got you! Oh…” A groan rumbled in his chest when you clenched your walls around his fingers and felt the orgasm bursting like a short-cut throughout your body. His hand was a wet sticky mess. He slid his palm all the way on your pussy, finishing with a gentle slap, which made you shake. 

The room filled with your heavy breathing and incoherent mumbles. Robby’s index and middle finger caressed up and down the outside of your pussy to reassure you. You let out a relaxing sigh, your mind and body returning to earth. Your eyes focused on him and then you said with a silly smile, “Now you’re all a professional.”

꒰ ﹒ taglist : none ( join here ! )