#clitics

[se-agapo-skywalker]

Silence at the Cliffs of Dawn

Celebrating one year of the blog 🥳

CW: age gap (dilf!Luke Skywalker), finger (cybernetic) sucking, oral sex (f! and m! receiving; blowjob/face sitting/69ing)

WC: 3.5k

"...All I ever do is make myself unlikable. You know that," Luke says, "Why do you even bother staying?"

The two of you are laying down in his bed, pressed together tightly to avoid accidentally pushing the other off the already small space--how you managed to convince Luke to let you sleep with him, you have no idea... Of course, you did sleep with him. Your current state of undress is evidence of that; in a move showcasing a rare display of his kindness, he allowed you to hog the majority of the blanket while he chose to rely on the warmth of his nightclothes.

Propping your head up on the pillow, you look at Luke and frown.

"I don't think you do it on purpose... for the most part, anyway," you tease. He raises an unamused eyebrow at you, before shaking his head and letting out a quiet almost-laugh.

"I can't even tell anymore. I guess I've really grown into it."

You fall silent for a moment. "What were you like? Before... When you were a Jedi?"

More silence. The rain outside is just starting to clear up, you notice, but it's still dark out. Luke's features are too dim to fully discern, but even then, you can notice the pain in his eyes... the conflict.

Strangely enough, he laughs. An actual laugh.

"...I looked a lot nicer. Dignified, you know? Not like some hobo hermit living in the middle of nowhere." He sighs. "In all seriousness, though... things were different. I can barely even recognize who I am now, nor can I the man I was before."

"Let me guess..." you smile, trying to picture a younger version of the greying man before you. You've seen the old propaganda posters--shockingly handsome ones, portraying him as the gorgeous golden boy of the Rebellion. "Plenty of admirers? Paramours, even?"

Luke shakes his head with something akin to embarrassment. "People certainly tried, but... that life wasn't for me."

Intrigued, you decide to press even further. "Well, what was? The daring pilot with a life full of adventure, or the wise, contemplative Jedi who liberated entire planets with the wave of his hand?"

"I did my fair share of both, but the truth is far more complicated than that. For a while, I did chase the feeling of being a hero..." His gaze grows distant. Regretful. "But it was all in vain. The people you save get killed. The things you build get destroyed. This galaxy, everything in it, it's all... temporary."

You sit up, blanket sliding off your nude form slightly and catching Luke's attention; as much as he tries to hide it, he can't help the way you affect him. For a moment, you smirk, but with the better view of his face you can see just how tormented he is.

"I mean, the galaxy isn't all that bad... it brought us together, right?"

"But it took so much in the process," Luke mutters in response.

"I-"

"Don't tell me it was worth it. It wasn't."

He moves over onto his back and covers his face with his left hand--hiding tears, no doubt. Tears he isn't yet ready to let you see.

"...The rain is over. You can leave if you wish."

"I'm not leaving," you say, maneuvering yourself over him. Luke peeks up at you through his fingers before you gently grab his hand and move it away from his face. "Not when you need me."

He exhales slowly, sadly, but he makes no move to shove you off him. With your other hand, you brush away the tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

"Let me take care of you, alright?"

Just as Luke instinctively opens his mouth to protest, he immediately concedes, settling back into the pillow. He's old, and he's tired, what use is it trying to fight you off? Besides, he wants this--needs it, he discovered at the onset of the rain--so the last thing he's going to do is stop you.

The room is silent, save for the sound of baited breath, as you finally lean over to kiss him. Using your free hand to stroke the fringe out of his eyes, other hand still holding his, you kiss the lines of his forehead, the bridge of his crooked nose, and finally his lips.

Luke doesn't think he's anything special; you think he's extraordinary. Not for being the hero of your dreams, but for being the man he truly is--as broken and as vulnerable as he may be, he's yours. And that's enough.

Despite the few times you've kissed him, you both take to it like a pikobi to water. You take the lead; his are quite shy, but by the time your lips meet, Luke noticeably relaxes beneath your touch.

His mechanical hand moves to your bare back, tracing the shape of your spine as you arch over him, the texture of the leather glove making you shiver. It moves from your back to your waist, slowly climbing toward your chest, where he graces your nipple with a firm pinch--not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to show his desire. Yes, Luke Skywalker desires you.

Although still sleeping, you can feel the stirrings beneath you as his arousal grows. You're fully awake, restless, hungry. Luke, on the other hand, needs a bit more time, time you're more than willing to give--you know the prize will be worth it.

"Master..." you purr, wiggling your hips slightly as he twitches at the sound of the nickname. "You've seen me. I haven't seen you yet."

"I-I'm nothing worth looking at..."

"You are to me."

Luke moves his cybernetic from the valley of your chest to cradle your face. You silently kiss the palm of his hand, mechanical fingers flexing within the leather, before taking the material between your teeth to pull it off.

"Wait-"

The leather doesn't catch on the metal; instead, it slips off like a raindrop sliding down the stone roof. Luke makes no move to halt its movement. The mechanical fingers are revealed to you, one by one, grey metal glinting in the slivers of moonlight streaming through the window.

"Beautiful..." you whisper, barely loud enough to be audible. But Luke hears you; if he were to respond, he's certain he'd just about cry.

Being linked to his nervous system, he has enough "feeling" in his cybernetic to control its movements and sense external stimuli, but without the synthskin, he can't truly feel. Hence why he barely uses it to touch you, let alone in a sexual context. All you have to do is show him he can.

In a swift motion you barely even stop to ponder, your tongue comes out to explore the metalwork; a metallic flavor--no surprise to you--accompanies the cold, and Luke refrains from flexing his fingers in your mouth.

Stars, he can't even register what you're doing, let alone why you're doing it. He watches you, blue eyes full blown to near-blackness as you suck on his fingers like they were a cock. Speaking of which, his throbs uncomfortably in the confines of his pants. Your movements in his lap feel incredible. Peeking down to look at your bare pussy grinding on him is enough to make him come... well, almost.

You, however, are not a fan of the cloth boundary between you; sure, it adds extra friction, but it's nowhere near as electric of a sensation as skin against skin. You've seen Luke's face, and his flesh hand, and his cock, but that's as far as you've gotten. Is he insecure about being old? It's not a problem to you, and he knows this, but you doubt he's fully internalized it. Being a (former) Jedi Master, you're sure he's covered in scars from the countless battles he's fought in... scars on his arms, his chest, his thighs-

"Y-yes," Luke pants out, seemingly reading your thoughts. "You can..." He can't even finish his sentence, flesh hand moving to grab your free hand and bring it to his clothes.

"Are you sure, Master?"

"Just do it already."

Delicately pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a thin line of spit connecting them to your lips, you pin Luke's right arm over his head, just like he did to yours earlier that night. He looks up at you with a mixture of surprise and arousal, a small smile of disbelief forming on his lips. You have plans--and you can't wait to show him.

The material of his sleep shirt is a rough wool of some kind, the cut of it a simple wrap-tunic similar to his Jedi robes. It gives you easy access to his chest; considering just how much Luke likes yours, you believe it's your turn to enjoy his. Ghosting your fingertips beneath the fabric, he shivers at your touch, and you raise an eyebrow at the texture you discover. Coarse, fuzzy, thick--you hadn't expected him to be just as hairy on his chest as he is on his face, but stars, you aren't complaining.

Luke is just about as red as a gundark by the time you pull his sleep shirt open. Of course, his embarrassment is no match for his stubbornness, which quickly bubbles up again to hide his discomfort. Typical Luke.

"Sure took you long enough."

"It did."

"Now what?"

"You'll see..."

Placing both of your palms flat on his chest, you lean over to kiss him once more; your mouth meets his, and then his neck, where you brand it with a startlingly red hickey. At the same time, you're scratching down his torso and tugging at the greying hairs.

Beneath the layer of fur is a web of tendril-like scars, stretching across his body like lightning. You can't help but wonder what dramatic battle between Jedi and Sith must have caused them... but stars, they're beautiful. You're determined to show him this.

Luke groans against your lips--if he had it his way, stars, he'd flip you over and pound you senseless. But no, he has already done that... and he's tired. Tired physically, tired mentally, tired of being in charge. For once, he'd like to experience what it means for someone to take care of him. Just once.

Taking care of yourself isn't even on your mind. Yes, you're horny beyond belief, skin on fire as you grind your dripping cunt against his still-clothed cock. Force, it isn't enough, it'll never be enough until you get the real thing. But... you want to try something different. You have a feeling he might want to as well.

"Where are you-" Luke begins to ask as you reluctantly pull yourself off him, only to be cut off by you running your fingers down his happy trail before shoving your hand down his pants. "Shavit, sweetheart!"

"Who are you calling sweetheart?" you smile, enjoying the thrill of feeling him before seeing him. His cock is hot and heavy in your palm, and much to your delight he neglected to wear any undergarments. As much as you enjoy the groans that escape his lips at the way you run your thumb over the already leaking tip, the devious part of you desires to tease him even more; removing your hand from his member, you move to squeeze his tightening balls.

"Fuck... fuck..." Luke moans. He's gripping the sheets with his cybernetic, flesh hand resting over the upper half of his face.

"Such language, Master... and such a light touch, too," you say, "I'm starting to worry you won't last for me."

When Luke finally manages to look out from under his hand, there's something strange in his eyes--lust, desire, conviction. To do what, you don't know.

"Sit on me."

"Are you sure? I don't think you're ready-"

"Not my cock. My face."

Now it's your turn to be surprised. All this teasing, all this bossing him around, yet he can't help but turn the tables and remind you who's in charge. That damn Skywalker is impossible to figure out, but you wouldn't have it any other way--in all honesty, that's why you're here. Why you stayed, even when he tried to push you away.

"Very well, Master... but I want a taste of you as well."

Before maneuvering to climb over him, you pull his trousers off his legs in one swift motion, his cock standing at full attention as it springs from its confines. Fuck, just the sight of it is enough to make you want to bounce on it until you're both sweaty and screaming. But not yet.

Your eyes are just keen enough to notice the way Luke blushes at you eyeing him up in the dim light. Stars, he is hairy--not that you're complaining, of course. You just didn't expect the wise old Jedi master to practically be a Wookiee beneath his clothes. He squirms a little under the intensity of your gaze, cock twitching in anticipation. A bead of precum glistens in the faint moonlight and dribbles down the veiny shaft... Licking your lips, you decide to do something about it.

Luke steadies you with his arms as you maneuver to climb over him. Soft apologies and awkward giggles are traded between the two of you as you try to figure out your bearings, metal hand accidentally pinching soft flesh and weight being distributed uncomfortably, but not painfully.

"I-I've never done this before," you breathe out, breaking your previously seductive demeanor.

"I wouldn't know where to begin," Luke's low voice chuckles, "but I think as long as you don't break my neck, we're doing it right."

Your current predicament involves you straddling his neck and facing his chest; you're bent over him, just barely hovering over his face, and his hands are gripping the soft flesh of your ass. The cybernetic in particular digs into your skin in a deliciously painful way, and you know it'll leave marks after--marks you'll wear with pride. Not that anyone other than him will be seeing them.

Luke quite enjoys the view he's getting--it takes practically all his willpower not to pull you down onto his face and go to town, damn the consequences (although a sprained neck at his age in the middle of nowhere is most certainly a bad idea). After having gotten a taste of your pussy before, he's insatiable; he'll do anything to get his fix.

Balancing your weight on your knees and your forearms, you lean forward to assess your target. The slight upward curve of his cock gives you easy access to it; licking down his happy trail, you nuzzle through wiry hairs before greeting his aching, impatient member. The Jedi Master may be able to hide his impatience beneath his actions and his demeanor, but, given his anatomy, his body can't.

Leaning forward, you greedily stick out your tongue to lap up the bead of precum already leaking out. It's... salty, and slightly bitter. You're still not sure about the taste, but it's him, so you want it.

Luke groans beneath you at the feeling of your tongue on him. The vibrations from his voice dance cruelly on your clit, the phantom of pleasure yet to come--before he finally grants you mercy and pulls you down onto his waiting lips.

The gasp that escapes your lips is muffled by you taking him in your mouth to gag yourself on his cock. He felt so massive when he was inside you, but like this... you almost can't handle it. Figuratively, and literally--you stop right before he hits the back of your throat, taking in just enough to really drive him wild without hurting yourself.

Luke drowns his moans in your soaking cunt, his noises and the movement of his hands beckoning you to start moving on his face.

Come on, sweetheart, his voice says in the back of your mind--another Jedi ability, you're sure. You won't hurt me.

Hips and mouth begin a slow, rhythmic pace on him. You can't help the way you tremble ever so slightly, unsure about the pressure of your movements or the depth of your strokes, but that anxiety becomes an afterthought as your senses dissolve into pure pleasure.

Luke fights the temptation to start bucking into your mouth--no, you've been far too good to him, you don't deserve to be treated in such a way. You're his angel, his saving grace, the being he isn't even worthy of touching (yet somehow is). Whatever he did to earn your affection, he wants to repay tenfold--you're his to use as you please.

He uses his tongue on you with as much fervor and hunger as he did earlier that night, if not even more. The taste of you on his lips lights a fire in the pit of his stomach and fully has him drunk on your essence. Reverently Luke alternates between fucking you with his tongue and swirling it around your clit, just as you alternate between sucking and stroking his shaft.

It's so wrong, a master and student behaving like this... Your cheeks flush at the utter indulgence of the act. Whatever afterlife the Jedi of old reside in, you can only hope they aren't witnessing your liaison.

Luke, however, doesn't give a fuck. He hasn't given one in quite some time--why should he live by the rules of the dead? That dogma nearly destroyed him. It ruined everything he ever cared about, everything he never allowed himself to truly love. No, "attachment" was forbidden. Anything that could become a pathway to the dark side was to be shunned.

Luke never understood how for so much of his Jedi training, so much of his life, his emotions were regarded as an inseparable part of him, passion and love he had harnessed to help countless others during the war. That all changed when he saved his father. He had defied Obi-Wan and Yoda's instruction to kill Anakin; therefore, his feelings were misguided, wrong. And it became his duty to suppress them.

But not anymore. He is no longer a Jedi, not in the way he was "meant" to be. He's just Luke, just a hermit, just an old man learning to love again--or, perhaps, learning to love for the very first time.

Luke's cock twitches and kicks in your mouth, threatening to spill at any moment. Teasingly, you pull him out of your mouth--earning a harsh groan into your cunt--to kiss the swollen, purple head.

"Oh, master..." you whisper, tracing his veins with your fingertips, "let go for me. I'm here, I'm ready."

A final squeeze of his balls urges him to finish on your tongue--and, capturing him in your mouth once more, he does. Spurts of hot liquid spill inside you, albeit in a different spot than before, and you choke slightly on the sheer load of it all. You're milking Luke for all he's worth, and he rewards you by practically breeding your mouth. Hips stutter and still as he calms down and starts to soften, so you slip him out of your mouth, gracing the overstimulated head with a final lick.

Your clit throbs at the taste of him cumming in your mouth, the knot forming within your belly signaling your own impending release. Beneath you, Luke is patiently at work drawing it out, exploring the depths of your sacred spot with his tongue. Now you're fully free to ride his face with reckless abandon--a task he encourages you to do with the guidance of his hands squeezing your thighs and groping your ass.

"Luke... Luke..." you moan, letting the sound freely escape your now unoccupied lips. No 'Master,' no titles or nicknames, just his name; his true name, the one he hasn't heard anyone call him in the past six years. If your senses are correct, coupled with the scratchy sensation of his beard, you can feel him smiling into you as he eats you out. He's positively making out with your cunt, kissing you just as he had kissed your other set of lips when you first came to him.

The orgasm that approaches is entirely unlike the one you experienced before; it approaches slowly, like a wave off the coast of the Temple Island, growing and growing in intensity before finally crashing against the shore. You buck your hips on his face, feeling the friction of his beard against your clit as you chase the delicious sensation bubbling beneath the surface.

Soon enough, Luke grants it; your Force bond burns white-hot as you tremble and come undone on his face, slicking his beard with juices he laps up as happily as a massiff. You're sure the cries that escape your lips are audible all the way in the Caretaker village. Luke chuckles beneath you, large hands--the ones that surely left bruises on your skin--coming up to help you slide off his face and into his lap.

Silence. No more rain. Just beyond the cliffs, the twin suns of Ahch-To begin to rise; much like the dawns of his youth, you imagine. You turn your gaze to your new lover's face as the first slivers of light stream through the opening of the window.

"That was..." you start, laughing breathlessly as you run your fingers through your hair.

Luke props himself up on his elbows, wiping his face with his flesh hand. A rare smile appears on his face.

"...Good. Very good."

[outfoxt]

Affixes, Clitics, and Particles

i think that these parts of language are really cool! so im going to try to explain them :D also i definitely did not get sent down an hours long rabbit hole of linguistic papers and i also definitely didn't find out that the reason i wanted to make this post is actually a misconception :D i love ignoring things :D

Affixes:

the wikipedia article for affixes says that "in linguistics, an affix is a morpheme that is attached to a word stem to form a new word or word form."

in hopefully simpler terms, this basically means that an affix is a letter, or a group of letters that form a single sound or syllable, that is attached to a word stem to form a new word or word form.

some examples of these are the somewhat well known prefix and suffix, but also the beloved infix:

prefix: undone suffix: spotless infix: abso-fucking-lutely

sidenote: my favorite thing about english infixes is that they pretty much only work with expletives. in fact, there's a tom scott video about expletive infixations!

Clitics:

wikipedia defines a clitic as such: "a clitic is a morpheme that has syntactic characteristics of a word, but depends phonologically on another word or phrase."

in layman's terms: a clitic is a letter, or a group of letters that form a single sound or syllable, that has the function of a word in a sentence, but depends on another word or phrase based on the sound rules of the language.

a few examples of clitics can be seen in finnish (which also has a great many affixes but we're not talking about those right now):

-ko/kö -han/hän -pa/pä -kin

the spelling of the clitic depends on vowel harmony. if you want to learn more, this dissertation is all about finnish clitics!

you may be asking yourself how to tell the difference between clitics and other parts of speech. well this study has just the thing for you! quite a few tests are suggested by the author of this study if you want to be able to tell if something is a clitic or not, including some of the following:

a phonological test observe how the clitic forms a phonological unit with an independent word. (do not ask me how this one works i dont know) accentual test "clitics are accentually dependent, while full words are accentually independent." put simply, if you can't put stress on it, it's probably a clitic syntactic test a word can stand on its own and be subject to normal word processes such as tense changes while a clitic cannot do this

Particles:

"'Particle' is a cover term for items that do not fit easily into syntactic and semantic generalizations about the language[.]"

read: "particle" is a miscellaneous, catch all term for anything that doesn't fit into the above two categories (or any other word categories like nouns, verbs, etc.)

the author of this study (who i'm going to refer to as Zwicky from now on because it's easier) says that theres no such thing as a particle and that its distinction from affixes, clitics, words, and clauses is unnecessary. i think thats an. interesting take.

anyway even though Zwicky just said theres no such thing as particles (which, how could he do that? theres kids around! we dont want to ruin the magic!) he concedes that there is actually a group of words that are commonly called particles that he agrees are actually particles. but he decides to call them discourse markers instead. because fuck you.

i dont like any of the words that Zwicky included so i made a list of my own:

-ね (ne) eh (canadian english) innit (common transcription of "isn't it", british english)

the funny thing is im coming out of this still not entirely clear on what a particle is. i thought i knew, i did some research, realized i didnt know, and now i'm here. based on how Zwicky puts it, it feels like the category of "particle" exists to accommodate the fact that there might be words* that arent affixes, clitics, words, or clauses but it feels like Zwicky is just being contrary. I should probably have done more research but this post was supposed to be done 24 hours ago.

out of context highlights from my research process: - sanskrit - the panini rule - doch - verbosely long section titles

*i dont actually mean words, i mean a morpheme which is a letter or a group of letters that form the representation of one sound that carries meaning, but i didn't want to make that sentence long and unreadable

if i'm wrong, please tell me! i would appreciate being corrected, i know i am not an expert on this topic in the slightest.

[velaraffricate]

i'm not sure if malakawi truly counts as polysynthetic, i don't think i can be the judge of that, but it is certainly far up on that side of the morphosyntactic alignment spectrum, and it basically kind of happened on accident. at first i just wanted polypersonal agreement, then i played around with noun incorporation, and suddenly i'm at the point where an 11 word english sentence can be expressed with only 4 words in malakawi

[messy-corolla]

it’s’s a clitic

[hobermallowed]

Once again I am asking why they had to get Crispin fucking Freeman to voice Helis 😭

[mikkouille]

someday incoming dual dye channel update save me

[gaydryad]

so as fun addendum. I can now say that the word for "sexual"* is /deazjalklaev zjevhə/ (realistically probably said more like /deazjalae zjev/ ) and means something to the effect of, "living-thing's bodily desires/need for (a back-and-forth action between oneself and another party)". which is the I think just right level of clinical for a language spoken by two people who would basically only ever talk about "sexual" things in an external and vaguely derogatory fashion.

*WITH the small caveat that I think there probably is a different word for talking about (procreative) sexual activity; "sexual" in this context would be divorced from reproduction and mostly refer to either (others') internal feelings like sexual desire or libido, or likewise. you wouldnt use this word to talk about like, "sexual parts," or "sexual objects," because the infix -klav(el) implies that whatever is being described is either directly related to a living being or belonging to it. so like, you could use it to describe your strap-on (assuming you actively use it), but not just any strap, and similarly it wouldn't make sense to use this phrase for toys you only use by yourself, or just like, your junk as it Exists. (you could use it to describe your lover's genitals, though, maybe? the point being is the emphasis on "sexual" as subset to "desire" and "involving mutual action". so like, you could maybe construct a sentence where "[genitals] [cause, bring forth] deazjalklaev zjevhə-liklava", but not as like, an inherent quality)

so anyway. deazjālklaev zjevhə vjomɐ-zijē liklāki, limīwa-kwɐ.

[arabicfornerds]

22 things you did not know about the Oxford Arabic dictionary The Oxford Dictionary is the most up-to-date Arabic dictionary on the market today. In this interview, Tressy Arts, the dictionary's editor-in-chief, talks about the creation of this gigantic work. We learn why swear words aren't easy to translate into Arabic, how computers helped create the dictionary, and which Arabic words are particularly tricky. https://arabic-for-nerds.com/tools/oxford-arabic-dictionary/?feed_id=4078&utm_source=Tumblr&utm_medium=geralddrissner&utm_campaign=FS%20Poster

[syd-djarin]

a daddy kink fic a day keeps my pussy wet

Over the Edge | joel miller x f!reader

Palestine - if you enjoy my work, I ask you to click on this link and help Palestine in any way you can.

Main Masterlist

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~1.2k

Summary: Joel agonizingly taunts you before pushing you over the edge.

Warnings: no outbreak, pwp, established relationship, edging, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y'all!), TW: daddy kink, oral (f!receiving), fingering, begging, soft!dom!Joel, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamic, creampie, two (2) spanks, hella pet names (angel, dollface, baby, baby girl, princess, etc), squirting, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, let me know if i missed anything! :)

A/N: hey y'all!! <3 i've been a bit down in the dumps about my writing lately so, this was just something i wrote for fun to get back into the groove :) i took some inspo from a few prompt lists such as this one and this one. this is my first ever daddy kink fic lol i'm nervous. anyway, i hope y'all enjoy! 🫶🏼 poorly self-beta'd, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀��

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Heat pricks your skin, the mixture of the Texas heat and the man above you creates a sheen of sweat on your body. Glistening in the warm glow of the room, you writhe beneath Joel as he pins you down with his strong hands lazily swirling his tongue along your puffy, swollen clit. 

He’s been edging you for hours. A lazy Saturday spent between your legs, Joel eager to put you in your place after he’d caught you touching yourself this morning without his permission.

Eager to unravel you.

Constantly bringing you to the brink and leaving you dangling off the cliff before reeling you back in, withholding your sweet, sweet release.

Releasing your precious pearl from his mouth, he hums as he savors the flavor of you on his tongue. He presses teasing kisses along your body as he slithers up to your mouth, whines bubbling from your chest. Tears sting the corners of your eyes, the ache in your core burning brighter with every touch.

“You gonna be good for me, dollface?” Joel hums, his thick fingers hooking under your chin, bringing your gaze to meet his. His eyes are wild, blown with pure lust. A tear rolls down your cheek as you impatiently nod.

“C’mon, princess. Use your words. Wanna hear you. Lemme hear you beg for it,” he taunts.

A whine rips from your throat. Joel teases your dripping cunt with his dexterous digits, your thighs sticky and coated with slick and saliva.

Exasperated and desperate, your eyes squeeze shut as you begin to beg.

“Yes I’ll be good, just please, Joel.”

You gasp at the dull sting of a soft smack to your thigh.

“Please who?”

Your eyes snapping open as you gulp, the dull sting of the smack heightening your need, your clit furiously throbbing as a new wave of slick seeps from your cunt. 

“Daddy. Please, daddy.”

“‘S better. Now I’ll ask ya one more time – are ya gonna be good for me?”

“Yes, daddy, I promise. I promise I’ll be good, I’ll do anything you want, just please.”

“Please, what? What do ya want, princess?”

“Y-your cock. Need your cock, daddy, please,” you mewl, squirming under his hold.

He laughs, smug and satiated with your begging as his cock twitches at the sound of your neediness, your shrill moan like music to his ears. His large, rough hands skate down your body to pin your hips down, his lips brushing against your neck.

“Beggin’s a good look on ya, dollface,” Joel taunts, his thick digits fluttering around your aching core, teasingly sliding his fingers through your folds, collecting your slick. Sharply gasping at the feel of his calloused fingertips brushing against where you need him most, more tears rolling down your cheeks as you softly whimper and writhe under his broad chest.

“Shhh, shhh, easy, baby. Relax, angel. Daddy’s got ya. Gonna give ya what ya want, don’t worry, baby,” Joel says, nipping at your chin as he lines himself up with your entrance.

Joel grabs your hips to adjust the angle and slides home in one swift move, the obscene amount of slick dripping from your cunt aiding him. He places your calves on his chest, your ankles resting on his broad shoulders.

An animalistic moan claws from your throat, shredding your vocal chords as Joel fills you up, stuffing you to the brim. His cock, thick and heavy and long.

“Fuck, look so fuckin’ pretty takin’ my cock, angel,” he groans, your heat clenching around him. “Ya like when daddy fills you up, baby?” He asks, dragging his hips agonizingly slow against yours.

“Yes, daddy. Love it when you fill me up, f-feels so good,” you squeal. His pace gradually picks up, fucking deep into you, your pornographic moans growing louder and higher with every thrust as Joel grunts above you.

Squelches fill the air, your slick dripping onto the sheets as it smears in between you and Joel.

“So fuckin’ wet, ya hear how wet you are, baby girl? Who’s this all for, hmm?”

You try to tell him it’s for him, for daddy, but he’s fucking you so good, so deep, he’s taken your ability to speak. There’s another smack to your thigh, only it stings a bit more. Another broken moan rumbles from your chest, the ache fueling the fire that’s burning in your belly.

“Use your manners, baby girl, I’m talkin’ to ya. Who’s this all for?”

“You, daddy! All for you, my pussy’s yours, I’m yours,” you babble almost incoherently. 

“There we go, good girl. ‘S right, baby. All mine,” Joel smirks, placing a kiss on your thigh as he hits that sweet spot. 

Your hand mindlessly finds your clit, eagerly stroking yourself until Joel swats your hand away. Releasing your legs, he leans down, practically bending you in half. Pleasure ripples throughout your body as he roughly pins your hands on each side of your head, caging you in between his taut biceps.

His thrusts grow rougher, needier. 

“Greedy. Girl,” Joel grunts, punctuating his words with his hips. 

“You don’t fuckin’ learn, do ya? What, this cock ain’t enough for ya, baby doll?”

You ferociously shake your head, whimpering as he continuously hits that sweet spot, eyelids heavy with your orgasm nearer in sight. 

“‘S enough, daddy, I swear,” you slur. Suddenly and swiftly, Joel lets go of your hands and grabs your hips, flipping over onto his back as he still sits inside you.

Hips flushed together, you sit perched atop him, straddling his strong thighs. Gasping at the newfound depth, your eyes fly open as you brace yourself on his taut chest.

“Wanna act up? Now ya gotta work for it, angel. Go on now - ride my cock, dollface. Wanna see you come all over me. Soak my fuckin’ cock, babygirl.”

He gives you a nudge, lightly bouncing you on his throbbing length. You feel him pulsing inside your warm, wet heat. A whine rips from your throat as he kisses your cervix. Mouth dry and sweat coating your body, you muster all the strength in your being as you slowly drag along his cock.

Moans ripping from each of you, the friction finally giving the two of you relief.

“Atta girl. Look so fuckin’ pretty bouncin’ on daddy’s cock.”

His filthy fucking mouth.

You toss your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you pick up the pace, fucking yourself harder onto his cock. 

Joel tightens his grip on your waist, squeezing your hips. It’s so fucking hot in the room, it’s hot everywhere. His touch sets your body alight, your skin burning beneath his hands. Oversensitivity sinking in as you near the edge of your release.

“C’mon, babygirl. You’re close. Can feel it. Fuckin’ squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, Christ,” Joel grunts.

He runs the pad of his calloused thumb between your soaked folds, coating it in your slick. Your hips buck at the sensation, a small cry tears through your vocal chords.

Joel brushes his thumb against your clit, stroking you as you bounce on his cock. Wailing above him, you clutch his chest for purchase. Your orgasm is blinding – burning hot white as you squirt on his cock. Writhing and twitching as you ride out your orgasm, continuously gushing around him as your ears ring. Your eyes squeezed shut as a few stray tears cascade down your cheeks, your ears plugged from the intensity of your orgasm.

Blinded by your orgasm, you hadn’t even noticed Joel finished inside you. You fall forward, collapsing on top of him, both of your breaths ragged. A sticky mess collected in between both of you, sex and sweat permeating the hot summer air.

He gently runs a hand along your spine, bringing you back to earth as you catch your breath. Joel presses a kiss to your head, leaving his lips pressed against your hair as he hums.

“Fuck, so fuckin’ good, baby. Good job soakin’ daddy’s cock, dollface. Knew you’d be a good girl for me – always are.”

[outfoxt]

do you think theyll let me have the book

[menacingcloud]

clitical hit on transphobe

[ladyshinga]

I don't know what my favorite part of this story is. PROBABLY the D&D party named "Clitical Hit"? But god, there's so much happening here and all of it's funny AND it's for science

[official-linguistics-post]

why are verbs so complicated :/ i went on a wikipedia deep dive trying to compare two languages i'm learning but like. what is valency and aorist and gnomic and syntactic and optative and clitic and aahhhh. like i know (for me) full immersion-learning works best, but i wish i at the same time could ~know~ these things without it being massively overwhelming :')

verbs my beloved. they are always doing the most. like i spent 7 years in grad school and wrote a whole dissertation on verb morphology yet i'm still convinced i don't actually know how they work.

[coredrill]

yeah 😭

something somethign one of those weeks

[natalieironside]

I hit you with a clitical strike for 3x damage

[otabekisautistic]

thinking w ur pussy instead of ur brain call that clitical thinking