#Hecking Airport | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

orimuraa · 3 months ago

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𓈒 🏁 ／ ⋆ ۪ Go big or go home - Lee Heeseung

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆famous model, y/l/n y/n, has caught the eye of famous f1 racer, lee heeseung, but how will they ever be able to interact when they're lives are so different? ⨾

۶ৎ f1 racer!heeseung x fem model!reader ┆fake dating to lovers, slow burn┆cursing, alcohol, age gap? (2 years), kissing, petnames, angst, some fluff┆ wc 4.8k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 ��𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: its finally here!!! tysm to everyone who waited for this and i hope you enjoy! this is my first super long fic and i would really appreciate reblogs and feedback! tysm!!

TEASER

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

the adrenaline of racing was always too much for y/n. her life was the exact opposite of that type of life and she never wanted to get in anything like that.

she had worked so hard for the reputation she now has, putting literal blood, sweet and tears into her career as a model.

but now look where she was. she was the global face of dior, prada, miu miu, louis vuitton and so many more brands.

everyone knew who y/l/n y/n was in korea. she was such an icon for the modeling world and never seen slipping up.

it was like she had no flaws.

but lee heeseung was the literal opposite of the whole life y/n had built for herself.

he was careless and daring, not completely caring about anyone’s opinions about him or his reputation.

not to mention, he was insanely hot. his looks stealing the hearts of many of his fans.

heeseung liked racing cause he felt like he could truly be himself—careless and reckless.

and heck, he’s made it his whole life now! he was an f1 racer who had quite the following now.

y/n was very much aware of who lee heeseung was, and even watched some of the races he was in.

she had to admit, he was indeed hot, but what would her fans think of her and heeseung?

her “fans” always criticized every man that got close to her, saying they were unworthy of her attention.

so to avoid anymore scandals that could truly ruin her career, y/n has steered clear of basically any man in sight.

heeseung couldn’t deny that the girl was pretty, she was drop dead gorgeous! but he knew what happens to people when they get too close to y/n, and that was something that he did not want happening to him.

“miss y/n! you’re going to be late for the fashion show due to the flight being delayed..” one of y/n’s staff informed, refreshing the flight page over and over.

y/n was supposed to fly out to a prada event in milan, but due to the weather, her flight was delayed by 2 hours, meaning she was gonna make it the the show late.

“then i guess we will have to get ready in the airport,” y/n sighed, subconsciously twirling a strand of her hair out of anxiety.

what was heeseung gonna do? he’s never been to a fashion show before! and not to mention, his staff has little to no experience with such fancy events like this!

his staff is for his races and making sure all his gear is in one spot for him, not dressing him up in a $10,000 suit for some prada show.

on the other hand though, heeseung was excited for a new experience, and he got a free flight down in first class! so it was a win-win.

his teammates were giving him a bunch of complaints out of jealousy because of a specific person.

and that person, was y/l/n y/n. his teammates were so jealous that he was going to the same event as her and had the chance to talk to her.

to heeseung, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. big name celebrities go to these types of shows all the time! so what’s the big deal about y/l/n y/n?

sure she had the visuals of an angel and heeseung may or may not have felt a few butterflies whenever he saw her on a magazine or on an article online.

but now that he was actually gonna meet her (potentially), he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.

y/n was able to make it out of the airport bathroom just on time where her staff rushed to get her ready for the show.

she arrived at the location of the show, mentally preparing herself for the camera flashes and screams around her.

once she stepped out of the car, she made sure to wave and smile politely to all the fans that waiting hours to see her.

“you’ll be sitting here next to mr. lee,” one of the hosts told y/n once she made it inside.

“oh hello! i’m glad i get to sit next to someone who speaks korean as well! my english is…well..not very good,” she smiled sheepishly.

“hi, i’m lee heeseung and yes, it is quite nice to have someone to converse with,” heeseung smiled, a couple of unwanted butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

“ah right! i’m y/l/n y/n,” she smiled, the lights dimming and cutting off their conversation.

throughout the show, y/n and heeseung shared light comments with each other and for once, y/n kinda forgot that she had the type of career and reputation that if she talked to a guy, she would be caught up in a dating scandal.

the after party was a very..unique?…experience. for heeseung, it was a very new experience to have such fancy people surrounding him while he was just a mere car racer.

but y/n made it better. they both weren’t big fans of going out and socializing with new people—especially if they needed to speak in their very broken english.

“so what’s it like? the thrill of racing?” y/n asked, nursing a glass of wine. why’d she even have it? she hated alcohol.

“it’s really an experience. you get to live life freely, not really caring about being reckless. it’s kinda my escape from the world, y’know?” heeseung chuckled, taking another sip of his glass.

“hm, must be nice..” y/n murmured, thinking about what her life would be like if she wasn’t a model and if she didn’t have all these expectations of being “perfect” all the time.

the two talked for the rest of the party, sharing small touches on the arm whenever one said something funny.

“thank you heeseung, for keeping me company and letting me be..well, myself,” y/n said softly. “i have to go catch a flight back to seoul but maybe we can stay in contact? here’s my number.” she said, sliding him a piece of paper.

“for sure. it was great talking with you y/n,” heeseung smiled back, sending her a small wink.

little did they know, someone had managed to get a few photos of their interactions.

the next morning, y/n and heeseung both faced faced the consequences of their actions.

FAMOUS F1 RACER, LEE HEESEUNG, AND FAMOUS MODEL, Y/L/N Y/N, ARE DATING?

the article shocked y/n and she immediately rushed to call her manager.

“what the fuck?” heeseung whispered to himself. he ran a hand through his hair, reading the article about him and y/n.

in the article, there was a photo of y/n touching his arm while laughing and heeseung is seen with a wide smile on his face.

fuck. he was so screwed. y/n was so screwed. he immediately opened twitter just to see his name and y/n’s trending for their dating scandal.

“oh for fucks sake!” he turned off his phone and threw it onto the bed.

y/n had just gotten off of her flight when the article reached her, making her push through the usual airport crowds of paparazzi worse.

“is it true you’re dating lee heeseung?”

“why lee heeseung? he’s no good for you!”

“y/n ssi? are the rumors true?”

it was all too overwhelming for y/n and the constant shoving and clicking of cameras was most definitely not helping.

it felt like she had to trudge a mile through mud just to make it to the car, letting a sigh of relief out as she sunk into the chair.

as she sat there though, she wondered how heeseung was taking it? he might have it worse than her since some of her “fans” were quite toxic to the people she got into scandals with.

he hasn’t texted..he probably wants nothing to do with me. y/n thought to herself, looking down at her empty messages.

all the way back in milan, heeseung was getting ready to head back to korea, not exactly thrilled to hear what his teammates had to say about his new scandal.

fuck. how’s y/n holding up? she must have it much worse than me. heeseung thought to himself, nervously bouncing his knee up and down.

once he made it to the airport, he was unexpectedly swarmed by crazy fans just trying to get an answer to their questions.

“are you really dating her? she’s too good for you.”

“how long have you been dating miss y/n?”

heeseung was not having it. he pushed his way through the crowd of people, pulling down his beanie even further.

throughout the flight, heeseung found himself constantly thinking about y/n. why though? did he really like her? or was it just out of pity? if these were the reactions to their dating scandal, how would they react if they were actually dating?

wait- when would they ever actually date?

either way, it would probably ruin both of their careers.

y/n paced back and forth, waiting for any form of contact from heeseung.

she didn't exactly expect him to contact her especially after this huge scandal, but she wanted to make sure he was doing okay.

she eventually gave up on waiting after another 30 minutes went by with no new notification.

with a sigh, she sat down on the couch, lost in thought.

would she be able to just ignore this scandal?

would it be just a quick scandal? or a long-lasting one?

many questions occupied y/n's thoughts, causing her to miss the way her phone vibrated next to her.

finally checking her phone, she saw a message from lee heeseung.

hey, i know i'm probably the last person you want to hear from but i just wanted to make sure you were doing okay with all the crazy fans

it took a couple minutes for y/n to actually process the words on the screen before quickly texting back.

oh hi heeseung! no worries, i was actually scared that you wouldn't wanna talk to me since it's mainly my 'fans' who are making this a big deal

she had only formally met heeseung for a day but she couldn't help but slowly fall for his charm.

y/n loved how care-free he was and despite his reputation as a racer, he was actually a sweetheart.

the next few days consisted of hiding from the public, not being seen anywhere, and a lot of meetings with her company about how they could cover up this scandal.

meanwhile, heeseung hadn't raced since he came back from milan which started to worry his teammates.

"dude, you alright? you've been so different since your scandal with y/n," one of his teammates stated, finally talking about the elephant in the room.

all heeseung did was sigh and stand up.

“yeah i’m fine,” he grunted, grabbing his jacket and walking out. his teammates exchanged glances with each other. it was obvious heeseung wasn’t doing well.

hey, are you free to meet up?

heeseung didn’t exactly know why he texted y/n.

why would she even wanna meet up with him? god he felt so stupid after sending that text.

sure! you can come over to my place! just make sure not to be seen

heeseung’s eyes widened as he read the text over and over. heeseung enjoyed y/n’s company and even though they were polar opposites, he found a source of comfort while talking to her.

she was so sweet and genuine with him unlike his crude teammates and competitors.

he quickly slipped on his shoes, clicking on the address y/n sent him.

when he arrived, he noticed how grand the apartment complex was. the building was clean and screamed “rich vibes”.

“you made it! hi heeseung!” as soon as the door opened, heeseung was greeted with y/n’s sweet smile.

“hey, sorry for the sudden text. i just..needed to talk to you,” he sighed, looking down at his shoes.

y/n took a guess that it was probably about their dating scandal so she just smiled sympathetically and let him in.

the first thing heeseung noticed about y/n’s place was how homey it was.

it was neat and had cute decorations that made heeseung smile.

she was such a professional model on camera and that’s all he’s known her for, so seeing this side of y/n was refreshing to see.

the plushies and little figured that scattered the shelves and furniture reminded him that y/n was still young and was practically living two lives.

“oh, sorry about the mess…here you can sit here,” she smiled sheepishly, moving a big stuffy off the couch and motioning for heeseung to sit.

“would you like anything to drink?” god she was so charming.

“oh! uhh no it’s fine, thank you though,” he smiled.

“soo..i assume that you’re here to talk about the scandal? i’m so sorry that you got into it with me,” y/n frowned. “i always hate when i just talk with someone and it means that i’m dating them.”

heeseung noticed the way y/n’s eyes looked down, almost like she was sick of her life.

“hey, no it’s okay. trust me, i would hate that too and you’re truly so strong for putting up with all that,” heeseung reassured. “but i wanted to actually..propose something.”

y/n’s eyes widened, curious about what heeseung had to offer.

“i’m listening,”

“okay, so i was thinking we would maybe…fake date? like, just until the paparazzi get off our backs and then we can break it off,” heeseung says, searching y/n’s face for any reaction. “it would benefit you and me from the scandals and articles and just…i don’t know. i just think it’s better than leaving this as a rumor.” heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“i get it…they might go crazy when it’s first announced and then they’ll move onto the next piece of drama..” y/n mumbled, fidgeting her hands. “let’s do it. plus, it might be fun to see each other’s lives!” y/n chirped, smiling at the thought of experiencing heeseung’s life.

“deal! it will end when the netizens move on from us,”

“yup!” y/n agreed, shaking heeseung’s hand. “but i think we should also establish some ground rules.”

the first day was all planned out. y/n and heeseung had both decided that they would rather make a statement about them dating than have a netizen figure it out.

y/n agreed to talk to her company, confirming the rumor with heeseung.

heeseung didn’t really have to do anything since a lot of f1 racers were free to date whoever they wanted.

once y/n was done with her meeting—which went surprisingly well and the company agreed to make a public statement about it—y/n went to go meet up with heeseung.

“hey? how’d it go?” heeseung asked, subconsciously twirling the straw of his coffee between his fingers.

“it went well actually. they weren’t that surprised and said they would make a statement later this evening. but, now we need to make it believable,” y/n said, thinking back to the ground rules they established.

“there’s no need for any pda when we aren’t in public, this is just for show so keep it casual. when we’re in public though, we have to make it believable so do anything to fool the media,” heeseung read off the paper. y/n just nodded, agreeing to all the rules.

“no catching feelings,” y/n added, just to be sure. but deep down, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted that.

“yeah, we can start by just holding hands and being more comfortable with each other?” heeseung suggested, trying not to make it sound awkward.

“mhm, that sounds good,” y/n mumbled, her mind somewhere else.

LEE HEESEUNG AND Y/L/N Y/N ARE CONFIRMED TO BE DATING

the articles started rolling in just 5 minutes after y/n’s company put out a statement.

y/n was nervously scrolling through the comments, reading the reactions to her and heeseung.

most were positive but there was wuite a few negative comments.

“hey, don’t worry about them, they’re just jealous that we’re such a power couple,” heeseung laughs, trying to cheer y/n up.

“yeah..you’re right. i just…can’t help it sometimes, y’know? i want to make my fans happy and i don’t want to feel like i let them down. so i often check their reactions to things i do..” y/n says, looking down at her lap. “it’s just become a habit now..”

heeseung would be stupid if he didn’t notice the way y/n’s mood dropped.

“no no no, it’s okay. we’re gonna get through this together and it will all blow over in a couple of weeks. besides, you might even have some fun getting to be a bit more free around me,” heeseung winks, causing y/n to giggle and look away.

the first time heeseung and y/n went out together now that they were a “couple”, fans spotted them immediately, taking photos, videos, only to post it on social media to get more clout.

heeseung made sure to secure y/n by wrapping an arm around her waist, tapping it occasionally to let her know that he’s there for her. like a real boyfriend would do.

heeseung was just a couple years older than y/n but he felt the need to protect her. truth be told, he enjoyed spending time with her, getting to see what she was truly like behind the scenes.

he hadn’t really been going to practice, opting to spend time with y/n and getting to know her better.

y/n still had her modeling duties to do, but she still made time to hang out with heeseung and she often brought him along to her shoots. his soft touches and little gestures made her stomach flutter.

by the end of the week, the whole media was convinced that y/n and heeseung were the “it” couple of the year.

they were so different yet they clicked so well. all of y/n’s staff were convinced, heeseung’s teammates, and the whole world basically.

but the downside to this all was that y/n had actually started to catch feelings for heeseung. she adored the way he laughed at her non-funny jokes like they were the funniest things ever, the way he looked at her with such adoration in his eyes, and his company.

his company made y/n so happy and she felt so..understood.

heeseung understood y/n’s situation and even though he was never in that type of spotlight, he felt empathy for the girl.

he was caring and let her rant about all her built up issues from her career, always paying attention to her.

that’s what y/n’s problem with heeseung was. he cared about her like no one else did. he made her fall for him, even though she wasn’t supposed to.

heeseung was dealing with something quite similar.

he was slowly falling in love with y/n. actually, scratch that. he was in love with y/n.

she always managed to light up the room with her presence and make heeseung smile.

her laugh was contagious and she was so sweet and bubbly. it was such a refreshing experience for heeseung as non of his teammates were ever like this.

y/n brought out a whole new side of him that he didn’t even know existed. he found himself becoming more caring around her and he was less reckless around her.

but he was so sure that y/n didn’t feel the same. after all, she was the one who made the rule not to fall in love with each other.

little did they both know, they were both falling in love with each other, thinking it was never gonna be reciprocated.

the second week passed by like no time at all. y/n had her photoshoots to go to and some local fashion events here in korea while heeseung busied himself with practice in hopes that his feelings would die down if he distracted himself with the upcoming big race he had.

y/n was also distancing herself a bit from heeseung. she was scared that her heart would be left broken once the fake dating ended.

she had fallen for lee heeseung.

the one thing she told herself not to do.

heeseung of course noticed her sudden distance and became worried for her.

“princess?” —a new nickname he had started calling y/n which made her stomach turn. “are you okay? i haven’t heard much from you and i got worried,” heeseung said, taking off his shoes as he entered y/n’s apartment.

“heeseung…i-i…i dont think i can do this anymore!” she blurted, her negative thoughts getting the best of her.

she watched as heeseung’s face fell, a darker look on his face now.

“what? what do you mean? what do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” he asked, anger laced in his voice.

“i’m sorry hee, i just…i can’t do this anymore! pretending we’re dating when we’re not! it’s just..not working for me..” y/n mumbled, to ashamed to look heeseung in the eye.

she was scared that if she told him the truth, he would get even angrier at her for breaking the rule she made.

“fine! be like that then! don’t tell me why you suddenly want to break this off! that’s fine with me, but don’t come crying back to me when everything falls apart for you!” heeseung seethes, slipping his shoes back on and slamming the door on his way out.

the second the door closed, y/n broke down. she fell to the floor, tears rapidly streaming down her face.

what had she done?

heeseung was beyond mad. but he couldn’t deny that his heart felt a little broken too.

he fell for y/n in these past couple weeks only to have it broken off with no explanation.

his big race was in a few days and he really wanted y/n to be there for him, but now, he didn’t even want to think about her.

the next few days were torture for the two of them. y/n had tried to distract herself with photo shoots, but how could she when heeseung’s big race was all her staff were talking about?

heeseung was similar to y/n. he was practicing for hours and hours, trying to forget y/n, but it was hard when he kept seeing her face on billboards and magazines.

they both didn’t want to admit that they fell for each other.

the day of the race, heeseung was warming up for the biggest race of his career. but he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart just by thinking that he wouldn’t have y/n there to cheer him on.

but he couldn’t get distracted now, he had a race to win for fucks sake.

y/n had to practically beg for the day off to her manager. she intended to make things right with lee heeseung.

so, in a baseball cap and a mask, she made her way to the stadium.

to be honest, y/n had no idea what she was doing here. it was clear that heeseung wanted nothing to do with her anymore yet she still needed to see him.

the public didn’t know that they had “broken up” yet so in their eyes, they were still the perfect couple.

after a couple days of moping around, debating whether or not she should tell heeseung how she actually felt about him, she decided that it was only fair that he knew the truth.

once she got to her seat, she really felt the energy in the stadium.

fans were screaming and cheering for all their favorite racers, but she was only here for one.

heeseung’s race was supposed to be the main event of the show tonight as he was going for a world record.

throughout the course of time y/n had spent with heeseung, she did in fact, learn a thing or two about racing, so she wasn’t completely stupid.

as the lights dimmed down and the cheers got louder, y/n could feel her heart quicken. she took off the hat and her mask as it got way too stuffy in the stadium.

from afar, she could see the figure of lee heeseung walking to his race car, his helmet in his hands as he waved to the crowd.

he looked so natural and free in his usual setting and it was like y/n got to experience a whole new side of him.

but then, he turned around, facing y/n’s direction, only to catch her gaze on him. his expression turned into an unreadable one before turning back around and slipping into his car.

once he was in his car, his opponents also got in their cars, now revving up the engines, ready to take off.

y/n nervously looked around at the opponents and then the countdown.

a girl in a skimpy outfit walked into the middle of the cars, a flag in her hands.

3..2…1! GO!

she blew the whistle and raised the flag, making sure to pose for the crowd before walking off once the cars had passed her.

the moment the cars took off, y/n stopped breathing. she watched as heeseung flew across the track, his speed intensifying more and more.

he was a whole lap in front of everyone else, which was a good thing…until it wasn’t.

“oh my god, he’s going too fast!” another person who was sitting next to y/n screamed. y/n’s gaze caught heeseung’s car and the person next to her was right. he was going too fast. he was gonna crash.

heeseung’s car was practically a blur of red, black and white as his car zoomed through the course.

but he never slowed down.

he only sped up.

y/n felt her heart drop as heeseung only moved faster. he was on the final lap, but it didn’t matter. he was going to win anyways but what mattered was his speed.

yes he was going for a world record but this was unsafe. he was going way too fast and he knew it.

heeseung sat in his car, hands tightly around the wheel. before he stepped into his car, he saw y/n.

what was she doing here? the days he spent after the argument with y/n were filled with regret. he should’ve never blew up at her like that.

he should’ve listened to her and her reasoning. he felt so awful. he was so sure she hated him.

so why was she in the stands, watching him? he sped faster, dying to finish the race. dying to tell y/n how fucking sorry he was. he was such an idiot for letting her go so easily. dying to tell her that he loved her.

as he crossed the finish line, he itched to get out of his car. he impatiently waited for all the other cars to come to a stop so it would be safe for him to run out.

something in y/n’s body told her to go. go to him and tell him how much she fell for him.

so that’s what she did. she got up from her seat, rushing down to the gate.

heeseung had the same intent because as soon as it was clear to get out, he threw open the door and rushed out.

his helmet discarded on the floor, not giving a single car for the world except for y/n.

there, he saw her waiting by the gates and he ran harder.

“y/n?? what are you doing here??” he breathed, his voice shaky from the adrenaline.

“i came to see you. i can to tell you how sorry i was and how much of a fool i wa-” she was cut off with heeseung’s lips pressing against hers.

their lips fit together like puzzle pieces and it felt so right. y/n quickly melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around heeseung’s neck.

pulling away, the two of them were breathless.

“i’m the one who should be sorry. i said some things that i shouldn’t have said and i hurt you,” heeseung’s tone was soft yet apologetic. tears sprang to y/n’s eyes as she smiled at heeseung.

“i think…i-i fell in love with you lee heeseung. that’s why i ended this. i was so scared that i would continue falling for you and eventually when it would end, i would be even more heartbroken. i didn’t want to end it but i felt like i had to,” y/n cried into heeseung’s shoulder.

heeseung sighed and wrapped his arms around y/n’s shorter frame.

“princess, i loved you too. i loved you the moment we met in milano,” he chuckled softly, kissing y/n’s head. “i’m so fucking in love with you it hurts.” he laughed.

“i guess that makes two,” y/n smiled, pulling away to look at heeseung’s face.

they both leaned in, connecting their lips one more time.

“i knew you’d win,” y/n whispered against heeseung’s lips.

“yeah?” he smirked, a cocky expression on his face.

the two stayed in each other’s arms for a bit longer, forgetting about the world outside.

“so are we dating for real now?” y/n asked.

“for real.” heeseung smiled, kissing her forehead one more time.

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

taglist: @blvengene, @punchbug9-blog, @hoshieee, @jxp1-t3r, @mrsjohnnysuh, @hommyy-tommy

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

Text

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐒

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut (like very explicit), minors dni

word count: 7k

summary: you and joel continue to see one another, no matter the distance. And finally, you two breach the subject of "what are we".

warnings: joel is still bi in this, minor angst in the beginning, live stream sex, piv, messy titjob, dirty talk, possesive!joel, squirting, a hint of jealous joel, good girl/sir, praise kink

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @trauma-dol 💜 thank you so much for commissioning me, I appreciate it lots!

part two of ravish

There are a lot of things you don’t like. The smell of roasted chickpeas, for instance. While others might find it inviting, it's just an odd scent that doesn't sit right with you. Then there's that annoying feeling of needing to pee right after you've gotten all cozy in bed. The list just goes on. You can think of a million things that annoy the heck out of you.

However, waiting for someone that you’ve been eager to see for months to arrive at your doorstep might be the thing you hate the most.

Worry bubbles up within you, and you can't help but sigh as you reach for the phone. Joel was supposed to arrive a good thirty minutes ago.

Excited to see him, you had spent time chopping up an assortment of fresh vegetables – plump tomatoes, vibrant bell peppers sliced into perfect rings, and red onions thinly shaved and ready to caramelize into sweet perfection.

Besides the cutting board, a bowl of freshly shredded mozzarella cheese sits in fluffy mounds, ready to meld and melt into gooey goodness. Fragrant basil leaves are waiting to be scattered over the final creation. The pizza dough had been carefully prepped and now resting.

But alas, there’s still no sign of him.

“Dammit Joel, where are you?”

You knew you should’ve just picked him up from the airport. You should’ve just ignored his protests and gone. New York is a big city; he could’ve gotten himself lost. Or worse, someone might’ve tried to kidnap him, rob him—sure, he’s a big man, but this is New York City.

It had been a hectic month. After you moved back from your family home, the issue of whether or not the relationship should continue had been a hot topic of sorts. For a while, you both decided to embrace the idea of "not putting a label" and simply being together during your visits. However, that proved to be too complicated. Losing yourselves in each other during every visit didn’t really allow for anyone else to come in between.

Not that you were complaining. You really liked Joel and didn’t really have any desire to date anyone else. Joel had enamored you completely. It was hard to keep it casual when all you wanted was him. But clearly, Joel didn’t want anything serious. He was content with how things were.

The thought made your heart sink painfully in your chest.

You tried to visit each other once a month, although most of the time it ended up being once every two months. He still joined your live streams. And when your viewers realized you were more than happy to indulge in JMiller’s requests, they started to get suspicious, commenting and teasing relentlessly. That meant you had to ignore him for a bit, which you hated doing.

You did enjoy the punishments that followed though.

A sudden buzz pulls you away from memory lane. Looking down you see a text from Joel, prompting your smile.

Almost there, honey. You weren’t kidding about the traffic.

“Dork,” you grin. Your head falls back against the back of the couch. You’ve missed him and now that he’ll be here soon makes you all giddy. Dormant butterflies erupt in your chest. Just the thought of him is enough to excite you. For an entire week, Joel Miller is yours. You had planned out everything. Not a minute will be wasted. Not on your watch.

Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. You practically jump off the couch and run toward the sound. When you open it, you’re breathless, the tiny hairs at the back of your neck standing with attention.

It’s him.

He’s here.

His eyes are tired, the crinkles you love to kiss deepening with his wide smile, “Hey there, sweetheart,” he says. “Miss me?”

You jump towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear the “oomf” that vibrates from his chest as you tug him impossibly close, forcing him to lean over you. Joel’s hands find the dip of your waist, squeezing tenderly, his nose bumps affectionally into the crook of your neck, and heat gathers under your skin.

“God I missed you,” you say, voice trembling. Desperately you hold his face and bring him to your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, the movement dripping with a need for authority and control. You happily give it to him, opening wide. He sucks the air from your lungs and swallows your moans. Slick gathers between your legs, the fabric of your underwear clinging to your cunt and asking for the stretch of his cock.

Joel guides the roll of your hips, chuckling darkly into your mouth when you desperately rub yourself against the denim. A shudder rolls up your spine. His cock firming under his jeans, “Honey,” he rasps. “Maybe we should close the door first?”

“Why?” you say with a hitch of your breath. You drag your lips down his neck, nip at his racing pulse. “I know the neighbor wouldn’t mind. He watches my streams.”

You’d said it without a second thought, which might’ve been a mistake on your part. His muscles grow rigid under your palms, the heat melting quickly like ice under the hot summer sun. “Is everything okay?” you ask, cupping his cheeks and forcing his gaze up.

His gaze stays on you only for a moment before he drops his eyes to your lips. Your brows furrow at the reaction. His eyes are clear like a sky before a storm. Obviously, he has the question he wants to ask already locked and loaded but refusing to pull the trigger. He lifts his hands, the width of them blanketing yours as he pulls them down.

“Just tired,” he sighs. He’s saved by the loud grumble of his stomach, the tension breaking. “And hungry,” he adds with a crooked smile. You force a smile and ignore the trembling of your bottom lip. Joel’s tone might be playful but it does little in calming your nerves. Moving away, the chill you feel on your skin is instant.

“I prepared most of the ingredients,” you say. “I thought pizza and wine?”

“We’re in the birthplace of the dollar pizza and you made it homemade?”

You giggle at how comically wide his eyes are. “Well forgive me for not wanting to feed you the cheapest thing available,” Joel’s lips touch your temple, warmth blossoming where his mouth brushes against. “And I thought it would be fun.”

“It will,” he murmurs. “I’m not used to bein’ pampered I guess. Only Sarah cares about what goes down my gullet.”

“Hmm I don’t recall saying it was due to the consideration of your health,” you tease, fingers tiptoeing from his arm to his shoulder. He shivers at the touch. “Maybe, I just want to see what these strong hands can do with some dough.”

His mere grin manages to send ripples of pleasure down your spine. Something dark and wicked crosses his face and you let out a shaky sigh. “Brat,” he teases.

With a cat-like grin of your own, you close the door.

Joel stands before the kitchen counter, the soft glow of the overhead light accentuating the contours of his figure. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing sinewy forearms that glisten with a slight sheen of flour. The muscles beneath his sun-kissed skin ripple as he reaches for the dough, his biceps forming a subtle bulge with each purposeful movement.

With a focused expression, he takes the smooth, slightly elastic dough in his hands. The material yields to his touch, supple yet resilient. As his strong fingers sink into the dough's yielding embrace, you can't help but admire the way he handles it. His touch is both firm and gentle, his hands a testament to years of construction work that have endowed him with strength and dexterity.

The dough stretches and folds, responding to his guidance with grace. His hands move with an almost mesmerizing rhythm, kneading and pressing, coaxing the dough into a state of perfection. The occasional wisp of flour dances in the air as he works.

You watch, entranced, as Joel's fingers work their magic. The concentration etched on his face, the way his lips quirk up in a faint smile as he loses himself while doing so makes your heart race.

As he works, you find your own fingers involuntarily tracing the outline of your wine glass.

"Enjoyin' the view, honey?" Joel's voice rumbles, breaking through the silence. You quickly set the wine glass down and begin to babble something in response, your words stumbling over each other. But before you can complete your sentence, Joel grips your wrist, pulling you toward him. Your back is flush against his solid chest.

His scent of pine and undeniable masculinity, surrounds you, intoxicating your senses as effectively as the wine you had been sipping. The shift in the atmosphere is palpable, charged with an electricity that sends shivers down your spine.

Joel's hands find yours, and he guides them to rest above the dough, his touch sending a jolt of awareness through you. “I’m the guest why the hell am I doin’ all the work?” His fingers intertwine with yours, his calloused skin brushing against your more delicate touch. Your heart beats in sync with the rhythm of his kneading.

Kneading the dough together, you feel a growing pressure against your lower back. It takes a moment for you to realize – his erection, firm and unmistakable, pressing against you. The realization sends a rush of heat to your cheeks, and your breath catches in your throat.

His hand drops to your waist, guiding the grind of your hips. You feel him as the dress you’re wearing dips between your asscheeks, clothed cock parting the two gently. A soft growl rumbles in his chest, the tremble of it felt against your back. Your focus has shifted. The dough forgotten entirely.

“You’re makin’ cookin’ really hard, sweetheart.”

You manage a breathless chuckle, "Oh, and whose fault might that be, Mr. Master Dough Kneader?"

He snarls into your ear, hot breath causing goosebumps. “You really are bein’ a brat today. Is there a special occasion for that?”

Honestly, being a brat really wasn’t your objective. It just. . . sorta came out. You reveled when Joel took control, be it face-to-face or during streams. There’s always something primal lingering under his touches, his words. You roll your hips, cutting his breath short, you feel the length of him being dragged down between the plump flesh of your ass.

“I just want to make you happy,” you say surprisingly soft. When you attempt to rub against him once more, he stops you, both hands now on your waist, squeezing you in warning.

“You do make me happy,” he breathes out. His voice is deep, slivering down your back. Heat pools between your legs and you lean into his warmth. “Why would you say that?”

“Forget it,” You hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously. Worry begins to inflate your chest, heat rising to the tips of your ears and making you short of sight. You attempt to reach for the tomato sauce, making sure to drag the plumpness of your behind against the heft of his cock in order to eradicate the moment. You don’t want him to think too much about it. Or decide that what you have—whatever it is—isn’t worth it.

The pads of your fingers brush against the smooth surface of the bowl but you can’t reach it. Not quite. Joel turns you over, hands between your waist and the sharp edge of the counter. Frustrated, you fill your cheeks with air and shoot him a glare. “Seriously, it’s nothing, Joel.”

“No it ain’t,” he snaps silently. “Why would you stress about makin’ me happy?”

He scoffs at your silence, “What? You think I’m just passin’ the time by comin’ here? That if it’s not worth my time I’ll just leave?” he asks, baffled. Your gaze drops to the granite floor, bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Joel’s eyes go wide, bushy eyebrows almost touching his hairline. “Wait you actually think that?”

You remain silent.

“Sweetheart. . .” he shakes his head and pinches your chin, pulling your gaze back up. He looks concerned. Remorseful. You try not to think about your pulse skyrocketing under your skin, try to ignore the skip of your heart. “You really think I’m that shallow?”

“No,” you answer suddenly, the need to defend him to himself burrowing in your chest. “It’s not that. I just. . . I don’t know. I’m confused I guess.”

“‘bout what?”

His thumb draws slow circles on your cheek, you close your eyes, heart and chest suddenly light as air. You could float if you had the capability. You nuzzle his hand like a hurt animal, begging for more of his touch.

“I really really like you, you know.”

“I really like you too, honey,” you ignore the way his words and smile make your skin prickle with delight. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

You sigh, you’re stuck between the constant worry and the comfort he’s providing. Despite being known as a chatterbox, you’re having trouble finding the words.

“I know that me streaming isn’t. . . conventional but I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t even do private streams anymore,” your eyes flit between his eyes, trying to get a read of whiskey-colored eyes. Fear coats your tongue upon noticing his lips are a thin line—definitely not a good sign. “And well. . . I don’t plan on seeing anyone else either because. . .”

You melt in relief when his lips finally crack into a small smile, “Because you really really like me?”

“Precisely,” you say a bit loud and excited. “And of course, I don’t want you to feel pressure but. . . are you seeing anyone?” you clear your throat. “B—Besides me, that is.”

“Well. . . sometimes I watch CammingBravo when he’s streamin’.”

“Joel!” you huff out a laugh and playfully smack his chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Adoration dots over his face, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with his smile. You love it when he teases you. Love it even more when he just stares at you with blatant amusement. The expression doesn’t linger long though. Like a small flame under rain, it sizzles out, his demeanor changing suddenly.

His brows furrow, a crease you so desperately want to kiss away forming between them. Joel’s jaw ticks, the muscle above it twitching. He inches closer until your foreheads are pressed together, snug. Your heart is beating with rapid thumps, your breath caught in your throat.

“I’m not seein’ anyone else either,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not planin’ on seein’ anyone else either.”

“R-Really?”

He nods, “I want you, sweetheart. Completely. I don’t care what you do on your streams as long as you’re mine when the camera shuts off.”

Your smile is instantaneous. It’s not like you planned on streaming for the rest of your life, arrangements could be made to make him more comfortable. And you had stopped collabing with Dieter ever since Joel came into the picture—though, now that you knew Joel watched the fallen-from-grace actor’s streams. . . you were getting ideas.

Joel nudges you with the tip of his nose, smiling, yet still hesitant, “Say somethin’ will you?”

“So, we both want to be exclusive?” you grin. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“Reckon, I am,” he answers with a snort. He parts his lips to say more but you beat him to it, covering his mouth with your own. The kiss is long and sweet. It feels like a first kiss in a way, even though you have kissed Joel many many times before.

“Come on now, let’s get these ready and pop them into the oven,” his grin is wide as he pinches your ass, you jump with a yelp and he laughs. When you fix him a half-hearted glare, he only winks. The simple action makes your insides clench. “I’m starvin’.”

The next day, you take Joel to your favorite coffee shop. They make the best bagel sandwiches and you’re eager for him to try them out. He gets the classic bacon, egg, and cheese, and you order the avocado BLT. You offer to pay, but Joel being Joel, he quickly distracts you by dragging his lips from your temple to your cheek, swiftly taking out his wallet.

You give him a look of pure betrayal. If you were wearing pearls, you’d be clutching them by now. “Joel Miller,” you say, aghast. “How dare you use your charm for evil?”

His laughter fills the air as he hands his credit card to the barista, his broad chest rising and falling with each boisterous sound. Your lips twitch into a smile as he cups your waist, pulling you close. His lips touch your ear and heat warms your cheeks. “Sorry, honey. I can’t always use my powers for good.”

All you can manage is a short nod. Your senses narrow on the way his breath ghosts your skin, warm and soft like a summer breeze. For a second you forget about the bagels and the coffee shop, all you can think of is him; his body, his voice, his scent—arousal pulses between your legs. If you were positive the two of you wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency, you’d let him take you against this very counter for everyone to see.

“Come on now,” he teases, reading your expression easily. “I got the goods, let’s find ourselves a good table.”

Alas, he really was holding a tray in his hands. You have no idea when the barista finished making your order. Either you’d been fantasizing for too long or you had one hell of a barista.

The two of you stand awkwardly in the middle of the coffee shop and look around. You notice a couple of people staring you down, their gazes fixed on you, some of them even being bold enough to do the old-fashioned up-and-down. You quickly divert your gaze and point toward a table right next to the large windows. Frankly, you’re used to the staring. They rarely came up to you since no one wanted to be the one known for enjoying porn. Especially in public. Most of the time they’re harmless.

Walking towards your table, you cheat a glance at Joel. If he did notice the looks, he didn't say anything. He made no indication of discomfort or anything of the sort. Relief sprinkles over you, maybe the looks weren’t as obvious as you initially had thought.

Joel took a seat and you sat across from him, he shot you a look before reaching for his black coffee, “Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Just as he opens his mouth, you notice someone approaching in your peripheral. You hold your breath, eyes dropping to the bagels. The person, whoever it was, just stands at the end of the table. You feel the stranger’s eyes eating you up. Fuck, of all the times why now?

“May we help you?” you hear Joel say, his tone the complete opposite of his words. When you look up at him from between your lashes, he’s staring at the stranger, the look dancing on the line of being a full-on glare. You take a slow breath and turn.

It’s a young-ish man with blonde hair and brown eyes. Your first expression of him is that he seems kind. He doesn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence at all which you find impressive. Even across from him, you can feel the heat of his stare.

“Hi,” the man says kindly. “S-Sorry to bother you but are you Honeysuckle? On Ravish?”

Joel visibly bristles at that. And, despite your better judgment, it turns you on.

“Yup, that’s me,” you let out an awkward chuckle. He extends a hand and you quickly take it, wanting this to be done as soon as possible.

“I love your streams!”

“Thank you,” you smile with tight lips. “I appreciate your support.”

“Can I get a picture?”

Briefly, your gaze flits to Joel, a shadow crosses his face, eyes dark in warning. Your breath hitches a bit, skin prickling, some part of you wishes the hardened gaze was directed at you instead.

You turn back to the man, “Sorry I don’t do pictures,” he seems visibly heartbroken by that so you quickly add. “But I can give you an autograph if it’s all the same to you.”

Oh god, you hate when you have to put it like that. It makes you sound so full of yourself. You’re not a movie star.

His eyes sparkle, “Thank you!” he pulls out a small notebook and hands it to you. “Can you make it out for Alex?”

“Sure.” you quickly sign your name—well, not your name name but your stream name; Honeysuckle. You add a little heart next to the name and return the notebook.

“Thank you!” he repeats, his genuine glee spreading in the air and caressing your skin. Your stomach does a small somersault as he walks away, clutching the notebook close to his chest.

“Well, at least he was nice about it,” Joel grunts, finally taking a sip of his coffee. You’re not sure what to take from his response, or expression for that matter. Is he mad? You don’t think he is. You nearly jump out of your skin when his focused gaze suddenly snaps to you. “You alright?”

“U-Uh, yeah,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “This kinda stuff happens. Most of the time they don’t say hi though.”

“So they just stare at you like a piece of meat?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” your voice is uncaring. Honestly, you’re used to it by now. It’s not like you had the most respectable job, at least, not according to most people. You can only imagine the comments you would get if you had Instagram, or if Ravish didn’t have a tight-proof system that allowed you to ban people on sight. You reach for your sandwich and take a bite, you chew slowly.

Joel snarls, “Assholes.”

“I was hoping you didn’t notice,” you smile around your second bite. He seems almost offended by what you said, crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest.

“Of course I did,” he huffed. “And why wouldn’t you want me to notice?”

“I don’t know,” you truly didn’t. “I guess I didn’t want any hiccups to happen right after we decided to be. . . exclusive.”

“Honey. . .” he gives you the tiniest smile, eyes full of care. “Don’t worry, people starin’ ain’t gonna get me packin’. Don’t you. . . don’t you know my feelings run deeper than that?”

Joel's words hang in the air, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of reassurance. The last thing you ever wanted was to make him feel like he was the source of your worry, the reason for your unease. Yet, here he was, looking like he believed he was to blame for your discomfort.

You lower your gaze to your sandwich, suddenly feeling a weight on your chest that has nothing to do with the bagel. It's not that you doubt his feelings for you, but you've carried the weight of your own insecurities for years, and it's hard to let go of them all at once.

Tears threaten to well up, and you quickly blink them away, not wanting to appear vulnerable in the middle of the coffee shop. You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing mechanically as you try to compose yourself. The flavors of avocado and bacon mix on your tongue, but they seem tasteless compared to the swirl of emotions within you.

Joel's hand finds yours on the table, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles. When you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, you're met with eyes that hold a storm of emotions. Concern, understanding, and a vulnerability that mirrors your own.

"You're not alone in this, you know?" he murmurs.

You let out a shaky breath. You're not used to showing this side of yourself, not after so many years of self-preservation and guarding your heart and yourself.

"I guess I’m still not used to this yet" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not your fault at all, it’s just been so long since I’ve been with anyone. . . emotionally. I'm sorry if I made you feel responsible."

He leans across the table, his warm hand cradling your cheek. His touch is gentle, his thumb caressing your skin. "I get it, sweetheart. And you don’t need to apologize. We’re the same in that aspect, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either. Just. . . know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."

You lean into his hand, you’re feeling lighter already.

Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Besides," he mutters, sitting back. “I don’t run away from what’s mine.”

Mine.

One simple word. A noun of all things, is what makes you melt in your seat. It’s sobering. Waking you in a way that no amount of coffee ever could. Mine. He said that. You heard the possessive lilt laced with the word, almost daring you to object. You nearly do if you’re honest, shadows dance in his eyes, draw you in like a bunny rabbit sniffing a tempting trap. You want to take the bate. Sink your teeth into that carrot to see how he’ll react, the things he’ll do to prove just how true his words were.

Instead, you clench your thighs together and propose something else instead.

“Let me prove to you that I’m yours then,” you say. Eagerness caused Joel's eyes to widen, his jaw betraying his emotions with a subtle twitch. “In fact, let’s show the world.”

No matter how vivid your imagination was, no matter how long you prepared and checked the equipment over and over again, nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared you for Joel walking through your bedroom door.

You had picked out a form-fitting black button-up shirt for him to wear. The fabric hugged his biceps, the seams barely holding on. The shirt stretched over the expanse of his chest, the buttons doing a better job compared to the seams in holding everything together. However, you were certain if he stretched even a little, the shirt would rip with a satisfying pop.

That isn't all, though. Your eyes move up from the shirt, your gaze tracing the lines of his body until they land on the striking green mask he's wearing.

The mask is a deep shade of forest green, with intricate gold detailing that seems to dance in the light. Swirls and patterns weave across the surface, accentuating the gilded flakes in his eyes.

His brown eyes peer out from behind the mask, a slight awkwardness to his gaze that seems to lessen with the hunger of your stare. The contrast between the vibrant green and the warmth of his gaze draws you in like a moth to a flame. The mask frames his face perfectly, showcasing his strong jawline and the facial hair that clings to his skin.

"I feel dumb," he mutters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “Isn’t there a way you can just make it so that my face is out of frame?”

The mask had been his idea, he didn’t want to be recognized—rightfully so— and since he still wanted to stream. . . he bought himself a mask.

Too bad he doesn’t realize the effect it has on you. Only if he could feel how wet you were for him, that’ll surely put him in a better mood.

“Not really, we are going to be moving after all,” you answer. His gaze drops. “Joel, you look devastatingly hot right now.”

His ears perk at that, eyes lifting to meet yours instantly. “Really?”

"Come here," you manage to murmur, your voice laced with a mix of playfulness and longing. He obeys without hesitation, closing the distance between you in a matter of heartbeats. His hand reaches out, fingers curling beneath your chin as he tilts your head up. His eyes, those deep pools of honey, lock onto yours with an intensity that steals your breath away.

"Tell me," he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "What's on your mind?"

You swallow, your words catching in your throat for a moment before you manage to answer, your voice barely more than a breath. "You... the mask... everything. I can’t wait to feel you deep inside. Can’t wait for you to ruin me for everyone to see."

His lips curve into a smile, and he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he murmurs against your lips, "Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan on leavin’ an inch of you not clingin’ with my come, darlin’.”

Oh, fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Your lips part with a soft gasp and he slips his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly laps at his thumb, drawing circles, begging for him to press deeper. Heat radiates off of him, suffocating you in the best way possible. Your eyes drop to his crotch, the outline of his cock visible despite the dark blue denim.

Joel grins and shifts his hips closer, teasing you with a promise of more. You close your lips around his thumb and swallow. You’re in a trance. Body and soul bewitched by his presence. Your breasts feel full and heavy, nipples tingling.

“Go and start the stream, honey.”

Tingles. All you feel are tingles as you get up and desperately head toward your setup. Your legs are shaking. His eyes burning holes into your bare back. A second later his palm is on your ass, stroking the plump flesh and teasing the elastic of your panties. You sigh, the fabric sticking to your folds.

With practiced efficiency, you start up the stream, the familiar hum of your equipment filling the room. Almost immediately, comments begin flooding in, your "hive" eagerly joining the live broadcast. The chat scrolls rapidly, filled with excited greetings and bee-themed emojis, a testament to the unique community you've cultivated.

"Hey there, my busy bees!" you greet, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "I hope you're all buzzing with excitement, because tonight we've got a special guest joining us."

You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker to the monitor. There he is, Joel, standing just behind you, his presence towering and captivating even though his head isn't visible on screen. The comments explode with excitement, the chat inundated with messages about how good he looks, how lucky you are, and playful exclamations about your "hunk of a guest” and how they can’t wait for him to “pump you full of his come”. A bit crass, but you can’t say you disagree.

You continue, "But first, let's give a warm welcome to our newbies! Welcome to the hive, where we celebrate all things sweet and sticky." you wink at the camera and bend slightly over, wiggling your ass. Joel doesn’t waste any time moving directly behind you, hands on your waist as he pushes forward, making you feel the heft of his cock between your cheeks. A small moan escapes you, breasts swaying with his shallow grinds.

“And now, without further ado,” you say breathless. “Let’s start the show. Our guest is an impatient one,” you hear Joel scoff behind you, the voice making your pussy bottom out. “Am I wrong, sir?”

His nails bite into your flesh, showing you just how much he enjoys being called that. You smile as you stand up, giving one last look to the monitor to check everything is in place, you face Joel. You lean closer for a kiss, hoping that it’ll soothe his nerves. He must be nervous.

But before you can close the distance, he grabs your chin and pushes you back, just proving how wrong you are. Your eyes widen, the pressure he applies to hallow your cheeks emptying the oxygen in your lungs. “Not so fast,” he grunts. “On your knees, honey. Only good girls get kisses.”

Your insides pulse with a vicious throb. His voice takes on a tone you've never quite heard before. It's deep, a resonant rumble that seems to vibrate through the very core of your being. His voice, deep and resonant, like thunder during a storm and wraps around you like a velvet cloak, warming you. As you slowly sink to your knees, your pulse quickens in response.

A desperate, hushed rustling fills the room as a zipper is lowered and briefly, you steal a quick glance at the streaming setup, ensuring that everything continues to run smoothly. Joel’s head is still out of view, which you regret because you want everyone to see how good he looks in his mask—

His touch is a sudden and deliberate pull, “Eyes on me,” he growls, the bulbous head of his cock pressing against your lips. His fingers are wrapped around his impressive length, and instead of notching the head between your lips, he smacks your parted lips with it. A drop of precome stains your bottom lip, a string of it following the tip as he holds it above your face. Your eyes are glued to the masked figure above you. Despite the tone and the roughness, they’re just pools of soft honey, internally searching your face for any discomfort.

Joel begins to stroke himself and with a heavy gaze, you part your lips wider and stick your tongue out for him to use you however he pleases.

His dark chuckle makes your skin prickle with need. You come closer, dragging your tongue between his balls, nuzzling him sweetly. Joel curses above you and grips your shoulder, holding you back.

“Sir, please,” you gasp, attempting to get close but his hand keeps you at a small distance.

He doesn’t acknowledge your pleas, “Push those pretty tits together, sweetheart.”

Desperate and dripping, you press them together with your arms. His cock comes from under, the head piercing your tits as it pushes from between them. Joel hooks his thumb in your mouth and you obediently suck around the digit as he begins to thrust. Neither of you breaks eye contact.

Joel pushes himself further into you, driving his hips forward. His cock slides between your tits, filling your already open mouth with vigor as he rocks in and out of your ample cleavage. You moan around his thumb, the warmth of his precum dripping over your tongue.

Your body rocks with each stroke, the pleasure radiating through your chest with each thrust. Your nipples throb with arousal, hard like diamonds, as he slams his rigid cock into your tits. Sweat beads on his forehead and he grits his teeth, “Keep them together,” he grunts as he pulls out, with the head, he smears drops of himself over your heated skin.

Your eyes roll back at how possessive it is, the fact that everyone is watching already forgotten. “Good,” he says, pleased. He pulls away his thumb and drags it over your bottom lip. “You’re already so dumb for my cock, aren’t you. Eager to show your viewers how badly you want to be good for me hmm?”

God, the tremors in his voice, that southern drawl. He’s going to be the death of you.

“Y-Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. Ignoring the ache it causes in the back of your neck, you lean forward and manage to taste him on your skin. You moan as your eyes flutter closed, your own breath warm against you. “Want to be your good girl again, sir.”

He pulls away from you completely, heading towards the bed. You stare at him blearily as he takes a seat, only coming to your senses when he hits his thigh, gesturing you to come over.

Just as you’re about to sit, he stops you, clicking his tongue while lifting a hand. “First strip, darlin’. Turn to the camera,” you don’t miss the way he smiles as you turn on shaky legs, staring directly into the lens. “Have you already forgotten how to stream? My poor sweet dumb girl.”

His words send you into a haze of submission. Needles stinging your back, you peel off your panties and bra, dropping them to the floor. “Good,” he hums. “Now sit on my lap, spread those legs so they can see how wet you got just from gettin’ her tits fucked.”

Joel scoots further back and gives you space on the bed to place your feet. With heavy lids, you spread yourself for him—and the people who’re watching at home. Your front facing the camera. To expose yourself in such a way, it’s different compared to what you normally do. You have fun with Dieter but it’s never like this, never as intense. A shaky breath escapes you when Joel places a hand on the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs further apart. He’s staring at you through the monitor, jaw slack. Meanwhile, you’re just happy people can see his mask, those brown eyes.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters, his role forgotten. “Look at you. Fuck,” his lips touch your ear, whispering the rest of the words so it’s only you that can hear. “You never stopped bein’ my good girl. Just sayin’.”

Your vision blurs with tears and you nod, his lips now on your cheek. He drags his mouth to your forehead and lays another kiss. “Now let’s give them a show.”

Joel cups your ass as he helps you lift yourself, aligning himself against your sopping core, he slowly lowers you, filling you inch by inch. Your head falls back, mouth agape, you’ve forgotten how big he is, how satisfying it is to take him so slowly. His breath is hot on your nape. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Just like that, show them how good you take cock, honey.”

“‘S big,” you slur. “S–So big, sir.”

He shushes you, lips moving over your cheek. “I know, honey I know,” he licks the salt off your skin. “But you’re my good girl, aren’t you? You can take it.”

Joel rears up, slowly pushing himself into you. His hands guide your hips to the right angle to let him slide deeper, your soft cries echoing through the air.

“I am,” you gasp, delirious, his cock completely sheathed inside. “I am. I–I’m your good girl.”

You twist around, straddling Joel as he takes both your hands and draws you close. His lips crash against yours, and you moan into his mouth as you grind your hips against him. Heaven help you, how can you take him like this with an audience? Images of all the people watching on your live stream dance in your mind, but it makes it all the hotter.

Your body rocks up and down as you ride him, your inner walls clenching around him. You’re panting and moaning, your body shaking as you pump harder. You feel Joel shift beneath you, his grip tightening as you take him even deeper, arching your back and pushing your breasts out. You can feel his eyes on you, as well as the eyes of the viewers watching you live stream. His cock glistens with your slick, every time you lift yourself, the light catches against it, everyone watching seeing how worked up Joel gets you.

You can feel Joel's warmth radiating throughout your body as he slides back and forth, gaining momentum as he thrusts harder. You stifle a moan, your eyes fluttering as pleasure overcomes you, your head humming with pleasure. Your body starts to slow, your muscles aching and trembling.

Suddenly Joel grips your waist, fingertips leaving dents in your flesh. He growls in your ear, drops of spit hitting your neck. “Who told you to slow down?” he pulls your body against him, forcing himself deeper into you. Every inch of you is shaking as Joel's hips slam against yours. His fingers find your clit, drawing gentle, quick circles around the sensitive nub. You cry out, clenching around him. “Look into the camera,” he groans. “Want them to see your fucked out gaze when I make you squirt.”

Your hands find purchase above his knees, the coil in your stomach tight, it’s too much. Too fucking much. Your head is swimming in a lavender haze, and before you know it, your cunt is pulsing around him, gushing and slowing his thrusts. You hear the faint pitter patters of a rain-like sound.

You barely register the liquid spraying from you, your body hot and burning while Joel’s fingers continue to move. Your drip down his length and down the inside of his thighs, and he rips another, albeit calmer, orgasm from you.

“Shiiiiiit,” he drawls. “Shit shit, honey, fuck, don’t move—” he makes a choked-out sound and spears you down flush on his cock. The sounds you make are completely debauched. A series of sir’s dropping from your lips, tongue aching to moan his name. You feel him spilling inside, so much, you think, so much of it filling you up. He’s still throbbing when he pulls out, gripping himself and ringing the last of it over your glistening cunt, drowning it in come.

“Oh fuck,” you murmur as he pushes it back in with the head of his length, you shudder around him. “So full,” you say, eyes dropping where you two connect through the reflection in the monitor.

“Not done,” he mutters and helps you lift yourself over him, cock slowly softening. “Push it out darlin’. Show them how much there is to keep you satisfied.”

“F-Fuck,” you let out a whimper, eyelids fluttering as his seed trickles out of you and drips over his length. You feel faint of heart, this probably being one of the filthiest things you’ve done on camera.

“Good girl,” he says, eyes glued to the camera. “My good girl,” he repeats, cupping your mound and slipping one finger inside with ease.

Joel gently lays you down on the bed, your body too weak to do anything. He walks up to the stream set up, his eyes flashing toward the camera one last time. “See y’all next time.” he taunts before shutting the entire thing off.

He throws the mask to the ground near your discarded clothes.

You don’t know what to think when he climbs onto the bed, mattress dipping with his weight before he pulls you to his chest. He kisses you slowly, taking his time as he tastes you. “Sorry,” he whispers into your mouth. “I think I might’ve gone overboard.”

“No,” you sigh dreamily, still in a haze. “That was perfect. I—I don’t think I can walk for a while.”

You let out a low chuckle and he smiles, pressing his lips into your forehead.

“Well, good thing I’m here then.”

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