#pearlispunkfics

Like a moth to a flame. 

The sound of droplets followed your steps throughout the castle, hushed and quick. You didn’t set a concrete plan as to what you were about to do; you only rushed with an autonomy you could not quite understand. 

There is a tender ache in your chest whenever you lock eyes with him, no matter the distance. May it be across the room, the height of the steps, or the damning closeness of dining tables during feasts. It is wrong, you convinced yourself it was. 

It had to be. Who were you compared to the heir of the Iron Throne, the Hand of the King, the future of House Targaryen– Baelor Breakspear?

You were restless, your mind giving up on itself and recounting all the tiny moments you shared with him. 

The way he had greeted you– weeks ago, when your father had shipped you off to the Red Keep like some peace treaty– with the Prince’s warm hand bedding your own, and his lips leaving a burning kiss on your knuckles. 

The way his hand had clasped on the back of your waist, a reassurance that ended up as a dance during one of the feasts held in his name. His hand had traveled to the side of your waist then, his eyes remaining on you even after the songs had ended. 

When you found him in the library, nose-deep in books that keep the history of Westeros. The way his fingers had caressed the pages then, with such reverent care. The way he shared a smile with you, acknowledging your presence in the room.

It was maddening. You thought him oblivious.

You halted at the near half of the steps, trying to catch your breath and give your mind some clarity. The candelabra you held nearly left its pattern on your palm from the way you gripped it so tightly. You assessed yourself, setting the candelabra down and putting your hand on your beating heart. 

“My lady?” 

You thought yourself mad, now even more so than ever, for materializing his voice. You let out a breathless chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. “You terrorize my very mind, and now make yourself known?” You say quietly, turning your head away from the voice. 

You then hear footsteps, ones that grow increasingly loud behind your back.

“I fear I do not know what you speak of.”

You feel his touch on the small of your waist. 

Your eyes snap open.

“My lady?” The voice of your lady-in-waiting brings you back to your mind. You look at her, puzzled at the sudden change of setting. “Were they bad dreams again?” She speaks softly, setting a pillow on your back to help you sit up, “You were mumbling.” She looks at you, handing you a goblet of fresh wine. 

“I-” You start, your hand instinctively reaching out for the cup, “I was- he was-” you try to make your words known, but you fail fairly quickly.

“His grace has asked your companionship during a council meeting as a cupbearer,” she helps you up, her hands familiar with the routine of your nightgown, “To assure your House that there is no ill will.” 

The council meeting went by quickly. Talks of peace treaties between Houses and trades across the seas, all for ensuring the stability of the Kingdom. Baelor, ever the observant one, took it upon himself to note the gown you were wearing. 

A playful light blue color, surrounded by gold accessories and white accents, topped with a bare corset that accentuated your figure. 

He lost himself at the sight, taking in a deep breath without any intention to do so. He linked his hands together, his fingers fiddling with the rings he wore. 

You thought it a nervous habit, one he does when faced with long talks of peace and courtly duties. 

You were completely unaware that you were his undoing. 

He gulped out of his cup, one for composure, another for focus. He gulped it like a man with thirst, a drop of wine spilling its way out of the corner of his mouth. 

You stepped forward with more wine, pouring it into his cup with practiced ease. He freezes, picking up your scent by the decreased distance between you. “That is quite enough now.” His voice wakes something inside of you, a feeling similar to desperation. 

He taps your hand gently, and you retreat the wine with a nod. 

Later that evening, you took to the castle gardens after you had dismissed your lady-in-waiting. 

The night was cold, and you found yourself clutching to the fabrics of your gown. You breathed in the cold, welcoming it with your warmth. 

You hear leaves crunching, accompanied by steps that seem to weigh royalty. 

You turned, immediately greeted by his eyes. 

“I think it best for you to be at your chambers at such time, my lady.” His hands are behind his back, his voice laced with regality. 

“And you, your grace–?”

“Baelor.” He insists.

“Baelor,” you sound it out, cautious and unyielding, “you must rest.” 

“I could not find sleep.” 

You nod.

He closes the distance between you two with a stride, his figure undeniably real and close. “I–” you start, your eyes shying away from his, “Don’t.” He hushes, his hand reaches out, the tip of his fingers tracing the outline of your throat. 

He keeps his eyes on you, the back of his fingers now gently caressing the plush of your cleavage. 

“You reside in my thoughts,” he whispers, “and through my actions.” 

He tips your chin up, wanting to maintain eye contact before inevitably crashing his lips on yours. 

He breaks away.

A beat.

“Do you want to stop?”

You cannot. You do not want to. Not now, not ever. 

Not when he has his lips attached to the side of your neck, his hands at your back, grounding you with him. 

Not when he has you backed up against a garden wall, with his hands traveling down your gown.

You retired to his chambers by his idea. Who knew that something so sweet would be Baelor Breakspear’s unbecoming? 

“You entice me.” He grunts, setting you atop his lap, “You, my fire,” he kisses you, his hands running through your back and unlacing your gown, “You hold my passion.” The gown falls and pools around your hips, revealing you bare in front of him.

He stares. He takes all of it in and commits it to his memory, “You are my undoing.” 

His thumb glides through the pit of your stomach before lowering itself on your cunt. 

“M-My prince, I am-” You panic, “I have not done this.” Your hand catches his wrist with the shake of your head. He looks at you with a gaze that seems like worship, “Let me guide you.”

He sets you down on the bed made of silk and feathers before undressing his tunic. “I have longed for you.” He lowers his head down to your mound, his breath fanning against your skin. His fingers trace through your folds, “This,” his finger rubs a circle against it, “is where I will lose myself.” He looks at you for any trace of discomfort before proceeding, “And here,” his finger pushes through your entrance, “is where you will feel me.” 

“It may hurt,” he cautions, slowly pushing more of his finger inside of you, “yet you take me well.” He praises, his other hand reaching up to cup your breast, “Tell me, my fire,” his tongue lands on your slit before tasting you, “do you long for me too?” he asks, eyes now focused on you. “It– it is wrong.” You whimper, overwhelmed by the new feeling. He rises, detaching himself from your sweet lips. He leans forward, holding your chin up to look at him, “That is not what I asked.”  You let out a labored breath when he sets his thigh between your legs, his piercing mismatched eyes looking at you with pure wonder. 

“I.. I do.” You stammer out, shying away from his gaze. “I find myself waiting on you,” blood rushes to your cheeks, “so that I may set my eyes upon you.” You now look at him, his gaze remaining still on you, “So that I may meet my desires,” your hand reaches out for his, “but even now I know not what they mean.” His hand meets the expanse of your body, visiting the plump of your breasts down to the curve of your waist. He nods, a small smile revealing itself on his face.

He pulls away, undressing the rest of his cloths. You feel yourself melt at the sight, mouth slightly agape in fascination. He reaches for you, holding you by the waist and setting you on top of him. 

He takes a nipple into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing on the bud. Your hands find themselves on his short-cropped hair, your body leaning towards him a bit more. His hand cups your other breast, his fingers playing and pinching the nipple with skill. You start to let out sounds you have never made before, and lose yourself to his touch. 

When you let out a whisper of his name, his eyes open and look up at you. 

His cock grows impossibly harder, the length of it resting just by your stomach. 

“You will take me,” he whispers against your breast, “As I will you, as my lady wife.” 

He props you up slightly, lining himself up to your entrance. “Cry to me,” he kisses your sternum, “I am here, I will ground you.” With that, he sank you on his cock, the feeling burning its course through your whole body. He lets out a groan, his eyes shutting and letting the feeling wash over him. Tears escape your eyes, your arms melting on his shoulders. You lean forward, your head just by his cheek. He tuts, his palm cradling the back of your head, “You are beautiful.” He lets you adjust to his length, his body keeping both of you still, “You are good.” 

A rim of blood displays itself on his cock when he moves you upward. You wince, your thighs trembling. “Look at me.” He commands, you do as you are told. He sinks you down once more, his lips pressing gentle kisses on your tear-stained cheeks. 

“You can take it.” He reaffirms. 

“You will, won’t you?” He asks, his lips attaching to the crook of your neck.

You whine, nodding obediently, “Yes.” You hold on to the blade of his shoulder.

“Pretty thing.” 

Your cheek leans in to his touch, your body finding itself perfectly fitted into his arms. “Baelor, please..” Your hands reach down to your mound, your fingers desperately finding where he had tasted you earlier, “More.”

He thrusts up into you slowly, stretching your walls out so that they may accommodate his girth. “Are you certain you know of what you ask, girl?” You look at him, your hands coming up to cup his face. Your eyes are glazed with tears, your lips plump and wet. 

You are the very picture of perfection, he thinks. 

You nod, an answer to his question. 

“Speak.” 

“Please, my prince.” You grow desperate, your hips moving with a rhythm you could not control. Both of your hands glide down his chest, a slick feeling pooling at your core. “I need you.” Another tear slips down your cheek, but this time his thumb catches it, wiping it away. He kisses the spot softly, reverently, with a care that makes you remember the time with his fingers on Gods know what book. 

“You make a man mad.” he looks at you, hands flat on your back. “With your pretty tears and your honey-laced words,” he thrusts up, the tip of his cock bullying itself right to the deepest parts of your core, “And with this cunt.” 

With one swift motion, he lays you down on the flat of your back. His hands find the back of your knees, pressing you down with his weight. His cock is at just the right angle, hitting a spot that makes your breath quicken and your eyes tear up. 

He starts thrusting with renewed vigor, the once-gentle prince completely losing his composure and leaving him with only his primal instincts. “You have no idea–” he grunts, pushing you further down on the sheets, “Just what you do to me.” He locks eyes with you, looking all over your features. “You think I enjoy the games we play?” He asks, slamming his cock in you and keeping still. 

“I-I know not of what you say.” 

He lets out a laugh, mocking or genuine, you cannot tell. 

“You make me lose focus,” he starts thrusting, each word paired with a motion. “You look at me with those eyes I cannot run from.” He shakes his head, allowing himself a smile, “Even in sleep, I see you.” His thumb moves towards your cunt, rubbing a sensitive bud. “I want–” he shakes his head, his cock unrelenting and heavy, “I need to see you full of my seed.” He reaches down, taking your lips with his. His teeth bite down on your lower lip, hard enough to make it bleed. To your surprise, his tongue glides on the metallic taste almost in haste, like an instinct he could not falter. “I can never escape you.” He pulls away, his cock leaving your core. He holds your waist, carefully turning you over to your stomach. 

He lines his cock on your entrance, pushing the tip in before leaving a kiss on your shoulder. His hands find your hips, pulling you up with him before finally pushing his cock inside you. 

You feel all of him then. 

It was all so sweet. 

His hands, kneading the soft curve of your hips.

His thighs, slapping against yours. 

His words, ramblings that either make or break you. 

He feels your walls clenching around him, a plea for release. 

“Lose yourself to me.” He coaxes, his hands pulling you up to his torso. Your hand finds his shoulder, gripping it for support. “My heart.” He whispers, his lips ravaging your neck. He doesn’t stop his pace, obedient to what you need. 

You feel it building at the pit of your stomach. His thumb rubs against your bud, bringing you closer to release. “Take it, my love.” He says against your neck, his thrusts chasing his own release. 

You lose yourself, moaning his name with pure admiration. 

He bites down on your shoulder, desperate for his own release. His hands move everywhere– your breasts, your stomach, before ultimately settling on your neck. 

A grip, not too tight, but enough to make you understand that you are his. His lips move against your jaw, needy, desperate. All it took was the feeling of you closing in on him, an action done to relieve yourself from the overwhelming feeling of your release. 

He breathes your scent in, his nose nudged on the crook of your neck. He delivers the final thrust, your name escaping his lips. 

He spills his seed inside of you, his arms keeping you steady.

Both of you collapse on the silk sheets, arms tangled and bodies unbelievably close. His hands stay on you, not wanting to let go. 

He pulls his cock out gently, earning a quiet wince from you. He moves, leveling his head in front of your cunt. He spreads your folds open, his eyes intently watching his seed drop from your core. He uses his finger to scoop some, pushing it back inside of you.

You nestle back into his arms, his hands patting you off to sleep. 

“Nyke am ñuhor ao ñuhor nyke jēdrar.”

I am yours, my love. 

targaryen divider by @feimingo, sword divider by @honeyluvsw ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ !

a/n: baelor has completely taken over my every thought ever since he graced my screen in akotsk- he's just sooooo hot uggghhh.. please feel free to correct me about any mistakes i made! i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! reblogs, comments, likes, or any kind of interactions are deeply appreciated!! xo, pearl!

It all started with that damn jacket. 

“It’s so cold, Joel. Please.” You whined, skin shuddering from the breeze. “Told you to bring a coat or somethin’, y’never listen.” He huffs, shedding off the outermost layer of his clothes. He holds it over you, eyebrows raised combined with pursed lips. 

You smile at him, quickly grabbing hold of the jacket and putting it on. You waste no time, zipping up the front of the jacket and tugging the ends of it to try and fit your body. It felt huge wrapped around you– it extended past your torso, and you had to tug the sleeves up just to use your hands. 

You looked so cute like this, he thinks for a moment, staring at you blankly. His eyes raked over you, eyeing you from head to toe. “Anyone ever tell you it’s bad manners if you stare?” Your voice chimes in like a chirp of a bird, and he’s back to reality. 

He shakes his head, walking past you, “Shut up.” He mutters. And you smile. 

You were fully aware of what effect you had on him. Ever since moving across his house a few months back, you’ve made it your life’s mission to make him fuck you. 

It didn’t take long for him and your dad to form a friendship over football and beer. However, ever since meeting Joel, he was always just this stuck-up, grumpy– presumably lonely– middle-aged man to you. You were just determined to help him, what’s wrong with that? Every time your dad invited him over for dinners or outings, you made sure you wore something that caught his eye. 

Even if that means wearing something skimpy during a cold weather. 

“I’ll wash this up for you and bring it back tomorrow morning, promise!” You say, looking at him with a glint of mischief in your eyes. He nods, shaking his hand in the air, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

Is it wrong that he turns you on?

Is it wrong that you’re thinking about getting stuffed full of his dick? Of his cum? 

“Come on, girl.” He calls out to you, and you follow. 

For the evening, your dad had invited him to an outing. A fancy word your dad uses for just ordering take-out and eating it in the truck by the woods. They talked for a while, with pauses and laughs in between. 

“.. Anyway, I have to drive back to our old place tomorrow.” Your dad says, biting down on his food. You nod before tilting your head, “Why?” He finishes his food before wrapping the packaging and throwing it in a piece of plastic, “Forgot some of my boxes, kid.” He shrugs casually then turns to Joel, “Keep an eye on her, would ‘ya?”

When you get back home, you rush up to your room. You sigh in relief, welcoming the warm air while taking off his jacket. You lay down on your bed, holding the jacket close to you and taking a deep breath of his scent. It was so distinct, so unique, so.. him. Your fingers trace over the fabric, a mental image of him appearing in your head. Your breath hitches in your throat, and your other hand hooks your panties down. 

You take a pillow, placing the jacket above it. You straddle over it, forcing the pillow between your thighs. You lean down, burying your face in the jacket as you start grinding on it. Your pussy rubs over the cloth of his jacket, and you can’t help but whimper at just the thought of that. 

You were like a woman possessed, chasing your own high as you kept his jacket close. It didn’t take long– his scent drives you mad, almost crazy, and just a few moments later, you let yourself unravel.  Sweaty and tired, you collapsed on top of the jacket, coating it with your sweat and essence.

You woke up in a panic, your dad’s knocking alarming you. You sit up straight, tossing the jacket to the side and yanking your blanket over your legs. “Yeah, dad?” You clear your own throat, stretching out your limbs. “Joel’s here, and I’m going.” He says from the outside of the door. “Alright, drive safe!” You call out. 

You make out the thuds of his boots down the stairs. You then eventually hear the engine of his car. You look out your window, waving your hand as your dad honks the car before driving off completely. 

You get up, picking a pair of shorts from your drawer and putting them on. You grab the jacket from the side of your room, sighing to yourself before stepping out. You walk downstairs to the smell of a fresh coffee pot and some pancakes. 

“Figured you could eat somethin’.” Joel’s voice grounds you, his back facing you as he finishes cooking the last pancake. “Coffee’s there, if ‘ya want.” He points towards his right, the tone of his back muscles visible through his shirt. You nod, setting the jacket on one of the table chairs. You help yourself to a cup of coffee, taking a sip before sitting by the table. He turns around to face you before slipping the plate of pancakes in front of you. 

“I have to head out to the hardware store, d’ya wanna come?” He asks, sitting on the chair across from you. You nod, taking a fork and getting a bite out of one of the pancakes, “Mhm. Should let me change though.” Your voice is muffled, you haven’t finished the bite. “Now, sweetheart, I believe it’s bad manners to talk with your mouth full.” He grins at you, a smug look spreading across his face.

You roll your eyes, swallowing it before locking eyes with him. “Let me shower and change, Miller.” He chuckles, nodding as he takes a bite of a pancake. You finish your cup of coffee along with the pancake with a satisfied hum before standing up. 

Oh! You almost forgot his jacket. 

You reach over to the hunched cloth on the chair, grabbing it and sliding it in front of him. You’re off to the shower now, your footsteps echoing throughout the hallway.

He swears you’re trying to fuck him over. 

After your little banter, you slip him his jacket and you’re off on your feet. He shakes his head with a smile before his eyes glaze over his jacket.

Just as he was going to turn his gaze away, something caught his eye. A stain. A dried-up stain that left a darker patch on the hem of his jacket. It couldn’t be water, it would’ve dried up normally. He’s familiar with it. After fucking around with multiple women in a variety of compromising situations, he’s all too familiar with what it was. 

Dirty. Fucking. Girl. 

He takes a deep breath, the confines of his shorts tightening around his hardening erection. He looks down at it, shaking his head. 

This is fucked. He thinks, his hand going down to palm his cock through his shorts. He grabs the jacket, bringing the stain close to his nose to get a whiff of it. 

Fuck. You smelled amazing. Something sweet, something fresh. By now he’s rubbing his cock with his hand, hips bucking up into nothing. 

“Joel! Mind handing me a towel?” 

Your voice cuts through his heated session. A grunt caught in his throat, shaking his head and trying to shrug it off by clearing his throat. “Yeah, erm,” He lets go of the jacket, “Where?” He stands up quickly. “Should be one by my room.” You hum from the shower.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters to himself, dragging his feet up the stairs and towards your room. He creaks open the door, scanning the room for your towel. He sighs, walking in and looking at every corner. Your scent is everywhere, making his head spin and cock harder. 

He finds your towel hooked on the back of your door, and relief washes over him. He grabs it hastily, pulling a top you discarded days ago with it. It drops down to his boots, and he stares at it. A white lacy tank top, one you wear at home only. He takes a deep breath, every fiber of his being screaming no. 

This isn't right, he's too old for you.

He was just going to put it back where it came from. What’s the harm in that? He was just going to put it back nicely, as if this never happened. He scoops it up, the soft feel of the fabric a contrast to his rugged hands. Then it hits him. Your scent. He can smell it all over the top. Didn’t even need to bring it close to his nose to be able to get a whiff of it.

He folds it neatly before tucking it in his pants. 

Oh, he was going to hell for this.

It took you days to notice that some pieces of your clothing went missing. First were the tank tops you wore at home, you always tucked them away by the first drawer of your cabinet. Second were the laced bras you bought from a city a long time ago, you mostly just use it when you’re out. Then finally, your favorite white lace thong. 

Joel started to come over more frequently, always by the front door with a pack of beer. Your dad was more than happy to let him in. It was strange, some pieces of your clothing came back during the days Joel was over. You thought nothing of it. 

Not until you saw him sneaking about the door of your room. He had just excused himself to go the the bathroom, a routine you picked up on ever since he came over more. It was like a tick in your brain– you just needed to know what he was truly doing in there. 

Instead, you catch him by your room, thong in hand, nose-deep, and cock hard. You were by the lower part of the stairs, enough to get a good view of what he was doing. Your eyes widen in shock, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips. 

You had him hooked.

Joel knew how fucked up it was. He was inviting your dad for drinks and a good time, only for his main objective to be to sneak into your room and snatch a few pieces of your garments. All for what? Jerking himself off late at night, when all of his pillows are covered in your scent, when all he can think about is the way your hips move, the way your tits bounce. 

He knew how fucked up it was, cumming on your garments, moaning your name, and imagining how sweet your pussy would feel wrapped around his cock. He knew how fucked up he was. 

But it was better than actually touching you, than actually crossing the line and fucking his friend’s daughter. He kept a safe distance, he kept boundaries, and he made sure he never stepped the line. So, surely, this was better, right? He’d slip into your room, grab a bra, a thong, or a top, and he’d be satisfied. And that was enough. 

It had to. 

But goddamn you were making it hard. You were making him really hard. 

You knew how to push his buttons, knew how to drive him to his limits. Every outfit you put on for him just got more and more enticing. And for tonight, his eyes are now shamelessly scanning every curve and dip of your body. 

The hour was late, your dad had excused himself to his room– his head was hurting. It was only you and him now, sitting on the couch, in front of the television. The past few moments were pure torture for him. Every skin-on-skin contact with you made him go crazy, and every time you walked past him, he could just inhale your scent.

He has one of the couch pillows set over his thighs, a weak attempt to cover up the hard-on he earned just by looking at you. Your eyes were glued to the screen, a knowing smile displaying itself on your lips. 

20 minutes pass, and so far, he wouldn’t budge off the couch or even get a new bottle of beer. “Would you like a new one?” You turn your head towards his direction. He hums, nodding, “Mhm, sure.” You walk over to the table, grabbing a new bottle of beer before walking back to him. You bend over a bit, handing it out to him.

His eyes lock in on your chest, the soft flesh of your boob peeking out through your low-cut top. And for a moment, he stays like that, mind completely distracted by the view in front of him. “Joel?” You ask innocently, beer bottle still in hand. He clears his throat, nodding his head before taking it out of your hand. 

He quickly takes a sip, trying to focus on what shows the television is playing. You smile to yourself, taking a seat beside him. You have a finger over your mouth– you feel the tension, and you scooch closer to him. “What’re ‘ya doin’, kid?” He asks, his voice low, eyes never leaving the screen. “It’s cold.” You shrug. 

He turns his back on you, his body facing the other way. Your eyes graze down on his back, admiring the way his muscles bulge through his shirt. Then, you catch a glimpse of your thong in his back pocket.

That was it.

“You know, it’s weird..” You start, looking at him. He looks over at you with his eyebrows raised, “Hm? What is?” You hook your finger on it, pulling it towards you in one swift motion. You dangle it in front of him, a smug look on your face. 

“Never took you for a pervert, Miller.” 

He looks at you, eyes wide with shock as his grip on the pillow tightens. “M’kay- fuck, I can explain–” He starts, standing up and letting the pillow fall to the ground. Your eyes lock with his boner, a smile forming on your lips. “Yeah?” You tilt your head to the direction of his boner. 

His eyes look down for a second, assessing himself. He sighs, running a hand over his face. “Been sneaking around and stealing my things when you could’ve just asked nicely.” You tut, standing up on your feet. “I know you want to fuck me, Joel.” You take a step closer to him. He looks at you, unsaid thoughts crossing over his eyes. He sighs before shaking his head. 

“Not here.” Is all he says before picking you up and placing you over his shoulder. You giggle quietly,  feet dangling in the air as he makes his way to your room. He fumbles with the door knob before clicking it open and setting you down on the bed. He locks the door behind him, turning around to face you properly.

You’re on your knees, fingers hiking up and glazing over your thighs. He eyes your movements, shaking his head. He walks closer to you until all you can see in front of you is just his tall frame. He grabs your chin, forcibly tilting your head to make you look at him. You don’t utter a word, your eyes scanning the entirety of his face. 

“Makin’ it so fuckin’ hard to control myself around you, angel.” He rubs his thumb by your bottom lip. You poke your tongue out, eventually taking his thumb in your mouth. “Just so happens you don’t have enough clothes to cover yourself with when ‘m around, is that it?” He looks at you with a dark gaze, his other hand reaching to unbuckle his belt. You nod, the sides of your lips curling into a smile. 

He takes his thumb out, tossing his belt to the side. He sits down on the edge of the bed before unbuttoning his pants. 

“Bend.” 

His voice drops an octave lower, his hand gesturing to his lap. You’re dumbfounded, lips parted with shock. “What are ‘ya, deaf?” He glares at you. You shake your head and do as you’re told, bending over his lap. He yanks your cotton shorts down, the cold air hitting your bare ass. “No panties?” He asks, his hand groping and getting a feel of your ass. You shake your head, squirming under his touch. 

You flinched as the sharp sound echoed throughout your room, a sting following– hot and immediate. 

“Words, baby. Let me hear ‘ya.” His gruff voice cooed from above you, his hand soothing over your flesh. “Deliberately wearin’ nothin’, hm? Is this for me, angel?” His fingers rub against your pooling hole. “Y-Yes.” You shook out the word, your hands pressing against his thighs. 

Another slap. “Yes what?” Oh, he sounds pissed. 

“Yes d-daddy-!” You whimper, your knees pressing together. He leans down on you until his lips are just by your ear, “Now you’re gonna have t’be quiet if you want me to fuck ‘ya properly, understood?” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. You nod your head, a tear slipping out of your eye. “Aw, poor baby.” His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping your tear away, “Does it hurt?” He hums. “N-No daddy, promise!” You say earnestly, trying your best to be good for him.  

“Count for me, sweet girl.” He orders, his tone leaving no room for protest. 

His hand landed on the flesh of your ass, sharp and unyielding.

“O-One.” Your voice trembled under the contact. 

“Wearin’ nothin’ but short skirts and cropped tops, tryin’ to kill me.”

The next landed with no hesitation, your cheeks retracting at the contact.

“Two!” You bite your lip, muffling your whimpers. 

“Intentionally wearin’ nothin’ underneath those pretty white bottoms.” 

The next was harder than the last, more painful– the impact of it spreading heat through your skin.

“Three..!” By now you were crying, your pretty pink cheeks glistening with tears. He pulls your body against his, letting you lean against him. His hands were brushing against your ass, a tender touch– a contrast to his earlier actions. “Did so good for me, angel.” He kisses your cheek, his arms wrapping around your waist, “Makin’ me so proud.” 

You straddle on his lap, taking one of his legs between your thighs. You start moving, eager for the friction. “What’s this? Pretty baby beggin’ to get fucked?” He coos against your ear, the palm of his hand on the back of your head. “Y-Yes please, please.. been so g-good for you..” You whine, moving your hips faster. His hands travel back to your waist, holding you in place before flipping you over and letting you lay on your back.

He pulls away, tugging his pants along with his boxers. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, long and girthy, twitching and begging to get buried inside of you. Your legs unconsciously spread open, your pussy all on display for him. He smiles at you, leaning over you before kissing your forehead. 

“Keep quiet. Think you can do that f’me, baby?” He whispers, his hands on the back of your knees. You nod, your pussy pulsing against the tip of his cock. He leans down, pressing your thighs to your chest as he pushes his cock deep into you. Your knees touch your shoulders, and your hands find their way to his. 

Your pussy is stuffed, and you lightly tap him as a signal for him to give you a few seconds to adjust to his size. “Little girl taking me in so well.” He breathes, his hips staying in place. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to make a sound. 

Just when you thought he was all in, his hips pressed further against you, driving the extra inches of his cock inside you. “D-Daddy..” You hiccup, tears flowing from your eyes as your legs tremble in pleasure. “I know baby, I know.” He kisses the tips of your eyes, nodding, “Don’t worry. I’ll stretch you out real good, angel.” He whispers by the side of your ear. “Have you beggin’ for more in no time, you want that, yeah?” He lets out a low moan, burying his cock deeper. You try to relax your body, nodding at his words.

His grip on your legs tightens, his hips rocking into you. A moan slips out of your mouth, and he’s quick to cover it with his hand. You look up at him, beads of sweat forming around his forehead, some of his hair sticking on his skin. He looks down at you, his eyes gazing at your chest– your hardened nipples moving against the fabric of your top. He removes his hands from the back of your knees, relocating them to grope on your tits. 

He grabs the fabric, tearing it into two impatiently. You gasp at the contact, his hips snapping rapidly as he grunts by your ear. Your tits bounce, and this only fuels him further, “You’re so beautiful, angel,” He praises, peppering kisses on your hands, “Always so good for me.” Your legs hook around his waist, his other hand making its way to your neck. He puts pressure on your airflow, your hands wrapping around his arm.

The obscene sound of your squelching pussy and his invading cock fills the room, and you start to feel light-headed. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your back arching against his towering body. You clench around his cock, your legs pulling him closer to you. “Need me buried deep in your pussy, yeah, angel?” He smirks, his other hand teasing your nipples. Your pussy pulses with his words, your head nodding frantically. “M-Mhm- mmfh..” 

“You needed this so badly, huh?” He asks, his fingers glazing over your clit. You buck your hips up, desperate for his touch. “So pretty for me.” He rubs your clit with a soft and teasing touch. “M-More.. pleasepleaseplease– hngh–” You gasp, “So close, daddy!” He nods, adding more pressure to your clit. 

He looked so perfect right between your thighs, his large frame towering over yours, his hands exploring your body. His hips staggered, “This pussy is mine, understand me?” He lets go of your neck, hands pushing the back of your thighs to your chest. You nod, biting your lip while tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “D-Da- haaah– yours, all y-yours..!” He speeds up the pace, his fingers working their way on your clit. 

Your hands fall to your sides, your mind solely focusing on your release. “Just needed t’be fucked stupid.” He whispers, pulling his cock out before slamming it back in. Your back arches, and you’re met with your release. His hands land on your hips, pulling you towards him as he thrusts his cock into you one last time. 

He holds you still, his hands kneading on your hips as he leans over you. You feel his cum seep into you, steady ropes of it shooting inside you. He keeps still, making sure that you got every last drop. You feel breathless, your hands finding their way to his chest. 

He brings one of your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your fingertips. “So good for me, sweetheart.” He pulls out, collapsing by your side. He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

He scans your face, his hand cupping your face. He rubs his thumb over your cheek, leaning closer to kiss it. He was so tender, so sweet with you– like you were the most precious thing to him. His hand rests over the back of your head, cradling you to his chest. You sigh contently, your eyes fluttering as your breathing steadies itself. 

He kisses the top of your head, muttering sweet nothings and praises as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

Every girl gets her wish. 

white lace divider by @chilumitos , cupid divider by @ioveartfilm ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ !

a/n: my second work! tried to do something new DOMJOELAHA, please feel free to correct me about any mistakes i made! i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! reblogs, comments, likes, or any kind of interactions are deeply appreciated!! xo, pearl!

“Well? You comin’?” Joel asks, tilting his head as if to get a better look at you. He’s just asked you to come with him to spend the weekend in his cabin by a lake. “Your dad’s asked me to bring you anyway so I dun’ think you have a choice, kid.” He clicks his tongue, his palm placed by the edge of the table. 

Alright, what could go wrong? Joel’s your dad’s friend, they bonded over work– he’s a great guy. You’ve been in his place a few times, mainly ‘cause of barbecues and sports nights– he’s neat. He’s always there when you ask for help around the house or your car– he’s handy. So, what could go wrong?

“‘Right then, ‘ya should go pack up. We leave early, angel.” He says with a nod, finally walking out of the house. 

Curse your dad for leaving you for an entire weekend due to a work-related thing. Curse your dad for making you spend the weekend with Joel. 

Joel. 

Joel, the man that you ogle at every Sunday morning when he’s out mowing the lawn. Joel, the man who always hikes his sleeves up to his forearms whenever he worked on your car. Joel, the man that calls you any pet name and leaves you blushing and well.. wet.

Joel, the man that you fantasize about at night, when you’re three fingers in, mouth agape, and whining about how he would fill you up much, much better. 

Snap out of it. What were you thinking? The man’s around your dad’s age– hell, maybe even older. 

You hurry upstairs to your room, pulling out a travel bag big enough for an entire weekend. You settle it by packing one red gingham bikini– for swimming, of course. Two sun dresses, a tank top with matching shorts for sleeping, one loose polo for covering, and then a summer hat. Alright, you’re set.

The drive was a blur. You immediately dozed off to sleep when your head hit the pillow by the car window. 4 hours later, Joel’s voice causes you to wake up, his hand placed on your shoulder– gently nudging your senses awake. “We’re here, doll.” He lets go as you stir, a small grin playing on his lips as you yawn. 

As soon as you step into the cabin, you place your things in the guest room. “Y’know, we can switch rooms. I know that mattress is a ‘lil too old, feels weird on the back.” He leans by the doorframe, his hands making gestures that match his words. “I’m alright here, Joel.” You let out a chuckle, shaking my head. 

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn ‘ya.”

“Need some help around the cabin?” You hum aimlessly from inside the cabin. Just then, the front door opens, his tall frame shadowing the entrance, “‘M alright, sugar. Don’t want such a pretty girl like you doing any kind’f work.” He’s shirtless. Changed into something more comfortable when you set down your things. His chest displayed beads of sweat, his arms looked rugged, and his hair was tousled into perfect curls that almost resembled a halo. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was flirting with you.

Well? Do you know any better?

The afternoon hours dragged slowly, and you were bored out of your mind. Joel was working around the cabin, breaking wood for fire and fixing a few things for his truck. He’s caught you staring a few times now, a smirk tugging on his lips whenever he did. How could you not? When he’s right there outside your window, all his glory displayed for your eyes to witness. His shorts seem unbelievably tight, seeing as how you can practically see the outline of his cock. His arms, his hands.. they were so big, big enough to have them all over your body, over your mouth as he fucks you from behind, or over your breasts as he kneads and teases your nipples. 

You backed off from the window, shaking your head as you tried to bring yourself back to reality. Sighing, you grab your bag– changing into that red gingham bikini. You let your hair down, brushing it with little care through your fingers. You reach out to the sunscreen lotion by your nightstand, applying a thin layer on your body. Think about something else, go do something else, anything else– instead of checking out your dad’s friend. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, the bikini a stark contrast to your skin. You let your hands run down your sides, your hips, your thighs, your heat. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth as your index finger reached in, slowly rubbing your clit in small circles. It slips in, and your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, whispering his name so sweetly. 

Joel. 

Need you, Joel. 

You walk back down on your bed, laying on your back as you start fingering yourself in front of the mirror. Your other hand finds its way down your body, taking care of your clit. You add another digit, your walls clenching around your fingers. 

Ah, fuck- would’ve been much better if it was you, Joel. 

Your back arches and you squeeze your eyes shut, your thoughts lingering on the sight you beheld earlier. Your hips start to meet the rhythm of your fingers, your mouth whispering obscenities as you chase your release. You tear your eyes open, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your legs are spread, two fingers buried in your cunt, and a dazed-out expression. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You hear the squelch of your skin combined with your essence, and you let your head fall back. Your hips stutter up as if to grind on something, on someone. You let out a whine, burying your digits in your cunt as you lay still, letting your orgasm wash over you. You catch your breath, regaining your consciousness as you let yourself melt in the bedsheets. Your eyes instantly snap open as you swear you heard the squeak of your door. Your neck cranes towards the direction of the door, seeing as it slightly creaked to the right, you knew.

He was watching you. 

Two can play this game, you decided. You took your bikini top off, putting on just the loose white polo. You left the last two buttons as it is, not bothering to cover your peeking cleavage. Bikini top in hand, you left the room. Joel was nowhere in sight, but the front door was open– letting the afternoon sun spill into the cabin. 

You walked towards his room, the door was open, but he wasn’t there. And so, you hurriedly slipped inside, dangling your bikini top right between your fingers. You place it right by the headboard, stepping back to look at it. You nod, a smile creeping on your face as you exit the room.  

It would be funny, you imagine. Him coming to find that in his room, a silent acknowledgment that you knew. Getting the Joel Miller all flustered as he sees what you’ve left for him. 

After your little adventure, you grab your summer hat and walk outside towards the lake. You reach the end of the porch, sitting on it as you let your feet sink in the water.

About a few moments later, you decided to go back to the cabin to help yourself with some refreshments. You figured Joel was somewhere near the cabin, gathering more wood or whatnot. 

As you stepped inside, you heard muffled grunts. Your head perked up, your body slowing your steps as you approached the door to his room. 

Was he..? 

You pushed the door open, revealing Joel on the edge of the bed, his left hand stroking his cock as it leaks pre-cum. On his other hand, you can see the piece of clothing you left. The red gingham bikini top. His cock almost looks angry with the pinkish-red tip of it, and you can’t help but admire Joel’s frame. His face, contorted into a look of pure bliss. His chest, heaving laboredly with beads of sweat. His large hands, the other stroking his cock rabidly, the other clinging on to that bikini like some kind of lifeline. 

“How’d that get there, Mr. Miller?” 

Your words pry his eyes open. The grip over his cock tightening as he lets out a breathy chuckle, “How’d this-?” He holds up the piece of garment, “You really are somethin’, huh?” He stands up, tossing it aside as he backs you up against a wall. “Actin’ all innocent, like you weren’t just touching yourself and moaning my fuckin’ name.” He says the last bit in a whisper, his eyes locking with yours. “Think I don’t notice the way ‘ya look at me, angel?” He nudges the tip of his cock against your covered heat and you buck your hips up to meet it with friction. He hisses, his hands landing on your hips to make you stay in place, “You want this, baby?” He looks up at you with an earnest expression, his thumbs circling the plush of your hips as he waits for your response.

You nod, almost frantically, as you start to unbutton your garment. You’re impatient, crashing your lips on his as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hands fall under your thighs, pulling you up and carrying you. It’s an effortless task for him, picking you up like you’re all but a peach. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, seeking entrance. You tilt your head to the side, your right hand tangled with his hair, the other on his cheek as you deepen the kiss and your tongue meets his. You feel his hands grope your ass, his hips grinding his cock up your clothed heat. 

You let your garment fall off your shoulders, exposing your chest to him. You pull away, resting your forehead on his as you try to catch your breath. “So beautiful, angel.” He murmurs, moving his head and latching his lips on your neck. The nickname feels so contradicting now, and though you’ve heard it so many times before, this time it just felt so… good. “So beautiful, and all for me.” He hums against your skin, leaving a trail of love bites as he sets you down on the bed. 

“Open up and show me.” Were his words as soon as you felt the soft bedsheets. You felt the rush of blood racing to your cheeks, painting you red. You squirm under his gaze, your knees touching as you look at him. 

“Now don’t get all shy on me, darlin’.” He kneels in front of you, both hands on the flesh of your thighs, urging them apart. He dips his head down, kissing your knees up to your thighs. You hesitate for a second before finally giving in, spreading your legs apart. He lets out a low whistle, fingers hooked on the sides of your bikini as he pulls it down. “She needs me,” He smirks, his fingers rubbing along your folds, “Look at that, all wet and ready for me, hm?” He looks up at you as he pushes a finger in. 

“J-Joel.” You strain.

“That ain’t my name, sweetheart.” 

“Daddy.” You sound it out, whimpering as he pushes another finger in. “‘S more like it.” He leans in, his tongue licking on your clit. He drags it out slowly, allowing himself the pleasure of properly tasting you. Two fingers from him were three from you, and right there and then you knew you were fucked.

His other hand reached up to your breasts, taking a nipple between his fingers and rolling it teasingly. You lay your back, arching against his mouth. Your hands reach out to his arm, holding on to it for dear life as he laps you up greedily. At the same time, he put his fingers to work, your walls clenching around his invading digits. 

“T-Think I’m gonna–” You squirm beneath him, hips bucking up to grind more of yourself against his mouth. He looks up at you, practically committing the sight to memory as he keeps the steady pace of his fingers and mouth. He encourages you, muffled grunts omitting from his mouth– causing vibrations to ripple through your cunt. This snaps something inside of you, and you finally let go. Your grip on his arm tightens, the heels of your feet digging into his back, a string of moans leaving your mouth as he slowly exits his fingers from your aching core.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, never letting your eye contact break as he brings it up to his lips, his tongue darting out and licking circles all over it. “Feel good, angel?” He asks softly, leaving kisses on your inner thigh down to your knees. You nod, trying to catch your breath. Your eyes widen in shock as he stood up, the tip of his cock leaking more of his pre-cum– still red with anger, with interest. It was twitching too, more so when he looked at the state of your gaping hole. 

“Think she can take me, sweetheart?” He asks with a rasp, leaning over you to rub the tip over your dripping cunt. You say nothing, your mind is too distracted by how good he feels just by rubbing the tip against you. “Figure that’s a yes, right, sweet girl?” He holds your chin, tipping it up to face him. 

There was something in your eyes, a tinge of desperation, perhaps. Whatever it was, it’s what caused Joel to snap his hips, pushing all of his length inside you. You hook one of your legs by his waist, your arms over his shoulders as you adjust to the girth of his cock. “Feel so f-full..” You mumble, looking up at him. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away, “Doin’ so good f’me, angel.” He pulls his cock out til the tip is what’s left inside you before slamming it back in. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your back arching so far up on his body that your tits press up against his chest. He groans, his hand snaking around your back for support. He keeps an unforgivable pace, the tip of his cock reaching all the spots that make you see stars. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your nails digging on his back as your cunt clamps down on his cock. “Drivin’ me crazy,” He pants against the side of your ear, “You take me so well, angel.” He praises, leaving open-mouthed kisses by your jaw. 

“Like y’were made for me.” He speeds up his pace, and the sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the room. His other hand reaches down to your clit, rubbing it with fervor. At this rate, you feel a knot tighten by the pit of your stomach, desperate for release. 

And just then, he pulls out. 

“Joel–” You start to whine, your cunt squeezing around nothing. You feel his hands by your waist, lifting you off the bed and flipping you over to your knees. Your mind had very little time to process what had happened before he slams his cock back into your needy cunt. “Shit- ah, d-daddy-” You slur on your words, lifting your ass up to meet his cock. “Mhm, doin’ so good for me, sweet girl.” He starts to move relentlessly, wanting you to break. 

“Look so pretty like this.” He moans lowly, fucking into you rapidly. You arch your back, pushing your ass back against him. That earns a groan from him, “Jus’ like that, angel.” He thrusts his cock, no– buries it in you, punctuating every word with the movement of his hips. 

His hands dig down on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You can feel his cock twitching inside of you, and his hips start to stutter and go out of rhythm. Your hand continues down on your clit, combining the pleasure with his cock. He holds out, wanting to feel you come undone on his cock before he fills you with his spend.

“Come on, angel.” He coaxes you, and you swear you saw heaven flash before your eyes. You moan out his name, your head collapsing on the bed as your arms give out. “Daddy–! Fuck, fuck, fuck.. Fuck!” You feel your juices gush down to your thighs, your legs trembling as he fucks you through your orgasm.  

He leans down, latching his lips on your neck and biting down on the flesh, positively leaving a mark on it as he pushes one last thrust in you. “Fuck, look at you.” He pants, burying his cock further in, flooding your walls with thick, white ropes of cum. “Milkin’ it all out,” He squeezes the flesh of your ass, pulling his cock out to reveal your stuffed pussy, a string of cum connecting you both. A gush of cum creeps its way out of your cunt, and you can feel his fingers push it back in you. 

You try to catch your breath, your mind completely fucked out as your body melts into the sheets. He lays down beside you, pulling you close til your head leans on his chest. “Such a good girl f’me, angel.” He kisses the top of your head gently, “Did so great, sweet girl.” He wraps his arms around you, his head leaning down on yours. 

Well, you got what you wanted, didn’t you? 

red gingham divider by @issysh3ll , yellow divider by @strangergraphics ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ !

a/n: this is my first ever work, so please feel free to correct me about my mistakes T w T, i hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did writing it! i'm actually thinking of making a part 2 for this but i'm not so sure ab that, reblogs, notes, or any kind of interactions are deeply appreciated!! xo, pearl!

"Pips, you have to let me-" Caleb looks up at you with those puppy eyes, his knees rocking him back and forth due to his impatience. The tip of his nose nudges between your thighs, "Please, please." he whines, pushing his nose in deeper. Your hand instinctively lifts the hem of your skirt, a smug smile displaying itself on your face, "Go on then." You give him a nod, patting his head. "Thank you!" Caleb's eyes zero down on the panties you're wearing and dives in closer. His hands are tied and placed on his lap, his cock rock hard and leaking of precum. Your fingers swipe your panties on the side, revealing your arousal right before his eyes.

His tongue darts out and latches on your clit, his spit squelching against your cunt— resulting in obscene sounds. You push yourself against him a bit more as your hands grab onto his shoulders. "Ngh- y'know I can never get enough of you, pips~" he drools, his saliva drippping down on his thighs. His hands wrap around his cock impatiently, his hips trying to buck up for more friction.

"Gonna-" his lips part with your pussy for a second, his eyes looking up at you in worship, "Gonna cum for you, please let me-" his mouth finds its way back to your cunt, his pupils fully dilated. He squeezes his cock with need, his hands becoming sloppier and faster with each passing second. "So g-good-" his tongue moves down to the slit of your cunt, his nose fully pressed against your clit. He inhales your scent as if its the one keeping him alive as his body starts to tense up. "I-I-" he manages to moan out before ropes of cum paint his torso in a lewd manner.

You step back away from him, enough for you to afford a full view of his face. You cup his cheek, forcing him to look at you. His eyes look as if they have hearts in it, his lips plump and full of you, his whole face is flushed and dazed, and yet.. "Thank you, pips." He smiles, nodding his head with delight.