#I'm putting that last one on here for reader safety though of course pain management is complicated!!

[dee-voss]

"Dude." Dee took a heavy, haggard lean back against the boardwalk timbers at the side of Benny's stall - which was mercifully empty, as they finished setting up for day two of all this. He hadn't been as much help as he'd wanted to be; just as much help as he could be, still sore from the night before, that set he hadn't expected. And all that staying out and up with Elly, after...

And. Today. Tomorrow. He had those other gigs, now. Just a few; any was wild, though. Seemed like it was a hell of a lot easier to misplace a guitarist than he'd ever figured. But - rolling his neck, carefully, Dee bit down hard on a wince. Then tried to finish that thought he'd had. "How - how strong do you make those special orders? Like..." He straightened a little, shoulders squaring. "Say I -" need, "- could use some mellowing out." Sounded better than hurting less. "But I've got shit to do, later. I don't wanna get totally knocked down, just..." he wavered, his bad hand, what'd been his good hand, before, circling in the air like the right words might be drifting by on that seabreeze. "It'd be real nice, to sand some of the edges off. You know?"

@bellstrom

[arvandus]

Congratulations on the big 500 ^-^ I'm so happy for you! Could I get a fluffy #24 with Dabi, pretty please? 🥺👉👈

I’m finally getting to thissss! I’m so, so sorry for the delay. For some reason I struggled with this one for a while, then suddenly something clicked, and inspiration took over. I really enjoyed writing this, it felt very cathartic. It might feel a little heavy/emotional at first but trust me when I say that it ends with fluff.

#24: You're The Only Thing That Matters

Pairing: Dabi x GN!Reader

Word count: 1825

Warnings: light angst(?), fluff

---------

You hadn’t meant for this to happen. Then again, no one ever does. It’s not like anyone ever plans for their apartment to get broken into, their personal items stolen...

Then again, it wasn’t entirely unexpected, not with a neighborhood like this. But it was the neighborhood you could afford. Now here you are, hanging out across the street at the local market, too afraid to return upstairs to your ransacked home. You don’t have a car to drive yourself to a motel to stay the night, you don’t trust nighttime public transportation, and you don’t have enough money for an Uber. But you have to go somewhere. So, you take your phone and called the first person that comes to mind...

Dabi.

You can’t help but laugh that his number is the first one you think to dial. From the surface it makes sense – you two have been seeing each other, so of course he should be someone you can trust enough reach out to. But this is Dabi. Even with your intimate relationship with each other, he is often distant and, more often than not, entirely unavailable. It doesn’t surprise you too much... he’s a villain, after all, and sometimes that villain life requires him to disappear for periods at a time.

Which is why you are honestly surprised when he picks up.

“What?” he says gruffly, like he doesn’t have your number saved in his phone; he knows it’s you on the other end.

You bite your lip before answering. “Um, hey, Dabi. It’s me.”

Already you’re struggling to keep your voice from quivering with unshed tears. If you let yourself cry now, you wouldn’t be able to stop, and this really isn’t the place for it. You watch as an old man pushes a cart past you at a snail’s pace, his gnarled fingers grabbing a bag of rice from the shelf.

Dabi must have heard the emotion in your tone though, because his next words come out slightly softer. “Hey, doll. What’s up? Ain’t it a little late for a phone call?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just...” you take a steady breath through your nose in an attempt to ease your jitters. “My place got robbed, and... I need a place to stay for tonight.”

You hear voices in the background, and Dabi growls at them to ‘shut the hell up.’

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Am I bothering you? I didn’t realize you were working...”

“It’s fine, doll.” Dabi replies. “Yeah, you can crash here.”

More arguing. But a moment later, you hear the click of a door being closed and the background noise disappears.

“I’m headin’ over.” Dabi’s voice comes through clearer than before now that there are no other voices coming through the receiver. His deep tone makes your pulse slow down to a manageable pace, and you take a deep sigh a relief. “Where are you?” he asks.

“I’m at the grocery store across the street.” You reply.

“Stay there.” His words are an order, his voice unusually firm. Is that... concern you hear?

“They close in fifteen minutes.” You say nervously.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

You hear the click and the call ends, and you really wish it didn’t. Then again, there was no telling where Dabi was, or what he was in the middle of when you had called.

The minutes tick by slowly as you wait, each minute dragging on longer than the last until you’re certain that you’re in hell, watching time slow to an endless crawl. The ten-minute mark comes and goes, and Dabi is nowhere to be found, and now you’re struggling to keep the panic down. What if he doesn’t come?

But just as the dreaded thought enters your mind, he’s there, appearing next to your shoulder like an apparition, a dark angel disguised in a black hoodie, his mouth covered. You nearly jump out of your skin when he puts an arm around you before you quickly realize it’s him, your protector.

Already you can feel the tears brimming in your lashes, but his words quickly interrupt the flow like a stopper.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispers in your ear. “None of that now.”

He guides you out of the store into the dark night and you stare across the street at your apartment complex. The building is tall and old, looming over you like a bad dream as visions of your ruined home flash in your mind.

“D’ya need to grab anything from your place?” he asks. You shake your head. You don’t want to go in there, even with Dabi present.

“Didja lock the door?” he asks again, and you shake your head again.

“Whoever it was broke it.” You reply. “Please, I just want to go...”

He stares at you for a moment, his blue half-lidded eyes reading the look on your face before he looks away.

“Well, c’mon then.” He says. He guides you to the subway. Once you get on the train, you sit next to him and rest your head on his shoulder as the empty train car sways and bumps on the tracks. You can feel the fear begin to fade away with each passing of the flashing lights through the dirty windows, graffiti carved into their acrylic surface. You interlace your fingers in his, and for once he doesn’t fight it, doesn’t recoil his hand to the safety of his pockets.

The ride is silent and so is the walk to his hideout. He leads you in through the rickety door with the dented doorknob where a ragtag group of people lounge on dirty couches. Your body stiffens instantly, your hand tightening around his as if doing so would fill you with courage you didn’t have.

A man with white hair with the slightest tint of blue-grey glared at you with red eyes. “I thought we agreed on no outsiders?” his voice comes through with a growl, carried on a sneer past scarred lips.

“Shut up.” Dabi snaps at him as he leads you past the group to another door that leads to a hallway.

A couple doors down and he pulls you into what you can only assume is his room – after all, it’s your first time being here; Dabi had never let you visit him before.

“It’s not much, but it’s safe.” Dabi comments as he closes the door behind you.

The bed is messy, the mattress old. You don’t care though. The space smells of Dabi, and as soon as your brain registers that you’re no longer in danger, you buckle down onto his bed and begin to cry with your face in your hands as the aftermath of emotions overflows into your palms.

Dabi removes his hoodie and kneels before you. He watches you in silence, the glaze of his eyes never betraying the emotions tucked away in secrecy. He hates seeing you like this, hates watching you fall apart in front of him. It makes him feel useless. Cautiously, he reaches out and takes your hand from your face, holding your fingers in his warm palm. He can feel the wetness of your tears on them, and he fights the urge to increase his body temperature, to evaporate the evidence of your pain from his skin. Your eyes catch his, red and puffy, and before he can react you throw your arms around his neck and fall into his lap. He catches you – how could he not? – and holds you to him as you empty your emotions into his shoulder.

When the well of your tears has finally dried, you wipe your eyes with the heel of your hand and pull away from him slightly. Dabi can see the exhaustion falling over you in real time, your shoulders slumping and your hold on him loosening into a relaxed grip.

“I’m sorry, I... I just... it’s been a really bad day.” You say, your eyes downcast.

Dabi can’t help but give a dry chuckle as he helps you up to your feet. “Yeah, no shit.”

He sits on the bed and pulls you with him until you’re both lying down on his messy sheets, with you curled into his side.

“Thank you for coming to get me...” you whisper as you rest your cheek against his chest.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” he teases, but his smile falters when your breath hitches and you don’t answer.

It cuts him deeper than he expects, but at the same time he’s not surprised... he hasn’t exactly been the best boyfriend – is that even what he is? Is that what he’s been to you? It wasn’t like you two ever discussed it; you two just... were. He’s given you so little...

Dabi swallows before he continues, his voice quieter this time, quieter than he’s ever been with you before. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” The confession feels weird on his tongue, like a foreign language, but he pushes forward, determined to say what he should have told you sooner. His voice drops even lower to a barely audible whisper. “I’ll always come for you.”

Despite the hush of his words, they feel like a shout. The admission leaves him feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, and a part of him wishes he could take them back, simply because of what they mean. But they don’t come without their own reward - you relax at his words, your body molding against his as your arms tighten around him. It’s the first time he’s been so open with you and the nervousness in his veins gives way to a light euphoria at your acceptance. His arm tightens around you as if he’s afraid you’ll melt away, as if his touch is the only thing keeping you real, his perfect dream come to life. Within minutes, your breaths become deep and even, and Dabi realizes that you’ve fallen asleep on him, your body giving way to its exhaustion after all that had happened. He stares down at you for a long, quiet moment, watching you sleep on him.

Dabi had never put anyone else first before, not even you despite your closeness. But when he answered your call and heard the fear in your voice, it was as if the ground had been pulled out from under him, his entire world thrown into chaos. If anything had happened to you... If you’d gotten hurt in any way...

His grip on you tightens a little more and he brushes his lips against your hair. Maybe it’s the bravery he’s feeling at your acceptance of him. Or maybe it’s the fear of what could have been. But his next words come out in a hushed whisper, a secret confession meant more for himself than you.

“You’re the only thing that matters.”

And even though you’re supposed to be asleep, your soft words hum into his chest, burying themselves like sunflower seeds.

“I love you too.”

[vannybarber]

All Night Long

Summary: You know very well what he does when he leaves and you know you need to let go.

Ari Levinson x Reader

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: angst, cheating, cursing, implies of smut.

They told you. All of them did. But you didn't need anyone to tell you because you knew. And stayed anyway. Why? Because you were a fool in love. You know he needs you and that is what keeps you there. And you needed him.

At first, it was 2 or 3 times a year. He would leave to Sudan with other agents to save refugees and sneak them to Israel. A man with a good heart. For those in particular of course. You had recieved a piece of that heart, but not all of it. You weren't enough. Not enough to stay faithful to. Not enough to give everything to. Just not enough.

Fast forward 6 years later, it became 5 or 6 times every year in between months. You barely saw the man. But you stayed. Because you loved him enough. Enough to stay faithful to. Enough to give everything to. Just enough.

After he'd come back home, you were there. Waiting for him, like he always knew you would. And every time, you could see it in his eyes. It's like as soon as he saw you, there was pain. Pain of remembering what he does when he's gone. Pain of knowing that you were aware and continued to play it off. Pain of knowing you'd still stand by him and suffer in the process.

Sometimes his agent buddies came and picked him up for their next expedition. All of them were kind to you, partially out of pity. Especially Rachel. But only she was nice out of straight guilt. Because both of you knew she was on her back for him every time he left.

Before and during your relationship.

You could even see it in their body language. It became a numb feeling you were used to after a while though.

What gave everything away in the first place, was when he came back, he would make love to you so good, you could still feel it for the time that he left. At first you just took it as him missing you since he was away for so long.

But as time went by, it gotten to something you couldn't explain. It was passionate, but it was as if he had hurt you. Like makeup sex or something. As if he was fucking you, asking for forgiveness. Because he was getting it from someone else. Well others, you should say.

But you took it anyway. To forget everything in that moment. The pain. The lies. The blatant disrespect. Just a moment of bliss no one could take away from you. Until you both came and it was back to square one. Back to reality. But reality set in and you had to get real. Do for you. Get out.

That's what led you to your current position.

Standing in the middle of you and Ari's shared bedroom. You took all of your belongings and moved them into your new spot hours from here, across town. He was on his way back from his last voyage. He told you that he managed to get 1200 Sudanese from the attacks on their village to safety.

You were happy that he used his privilege to help out these people that needed a better life. That wanted a better life for their kids. But you wanted him to use that same energy into you. Keyword: wanted. That was a past dream that couldn't come true even if tried.

After moments of random thoughts to yourself, you hear your lover come through the door. The sound of his infamous brown backpack you grew to hate, hitting the floor snapped you back into reality, agony washing over you. You had to do this. You didn't deserve to be treated like this.

Walking in the room, his eyes fall on you. And you see it for the millionth time. Pain. It would never stop. That's why you had to put an end to it yourself. He comes over and hugs you. A guilt covered one. Of course you hug him back. That would be the last time you do.

In his arms, you look up at him and give him a tired smile. He mirrors your action and leans down for a deep kiss.

From the mouth that has been on many different faces and other places you could not name.

You kiss him back, nothing less of desperation and tongue, with a touch of cherry lipstick that you've never owned, but do remember Rachel showing you after she bought it the last time you saw her. Pulling away, you're met with those sea blue eyes. The ones that scanned over the resort after one of him many artifices. Sadness washed over you at that moment. You wouldn't be seeing those any longer.

"Ari, I can't do this anymore."

He looks at you, not with confusion, but shock. Shocked that you were finally putting your foot down. Even you yourself were flabbergasted at your own thoughts. You've always had them but never acted on them.

"Baby, what do you mean?" he pulls back a little. "I d-don't get it." You almost laugh at that word. Baby. The name he had for all the women he allowed on his body. It was nothing to you but a starter for a sentence.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. For 6 years I stayed beside you. Alone. No marriage. No kids. Everything I wanted was flushed away for you. Even though you were unfaithful to me." Your arms were crossed, fingers playing with the keys in hand. Every word you let out was shakey.

"I'm going for good. To start over with someone who actually loves me. With someone who feels I am enough." Raising your voice a little, you continue. "You got your fucking resort. You got your countless whores. But you don't have me."

As you walk away almost at the door, he grabs your arm. Pulling you back like he always does, you find yourself back in front of him.

"I know you don't mean that, sweetheart." His hands trail up to your waist. "You know I love you and you love me. No one can do you as good as me." And he was right. You weren't someone who got around. He was all you knew. He taught you everything. Nothing could come close to him.

Feeling his breath fan over your face, you get nervous. All the dignity and confidence you had earlier was slowly fading away. He got to you per usual. Your plan was falling apart. You were falling apart.

He proceeded with his persuasive speech. "You can't leave me baby. You're all I got. I need you." By now, his front was against yours, face near your ear, right cheek rested against your right one. His little plan was working oh so well. You were giving in and it hurt so bad.

"Ari.. "

"Shh." He silences you and kisses down your neck, sucking on your sweet spot, hands gripping the soft flesh on your lower back through your jeans. He was touching you just how you liked him to. He knew all the moves to get you in his court.

"Please don't leave me. I can't live without you." He was begging, but not enough that he was actually desperate. He knew your answer. He sucked harder, hands moving up to squeeze your breasts. It was a done deal now.

"Okay, okay" you spoke shamefully. But that all went away when he picked you up and placed you on the bed. Here was your moment to forget. The moment of pure bliss. And you were gonna bathe in it. All night long.

I'm messed up in the head for enjoying writing sad stuff like this. 😭

[littlestarofthewest]

Title: Heat of the Moment | Word Count: 2743 | Rating: Explicit (18+!!!)

Pairing: John Marston (aka Handsome) x female reader

Tags: public sex, modern au | PART 1 of 2

Title pic by @the-neigh-sayer 💙

You sigh as you reach the bus stop. Just like the last couple of days, there's already a bunch of people waiting. Together with today's weather, even your flimsy summer dress won't do you any good. Packed with people, the bus will turn into a hellhole of bad smells and hot, unbreathable air.

When the bus arrives, you squeeze in with the rest of the waiting people. The few left seats are quickly taken, and you stay by the door, at least glad that you stand next to a pole to hold on to. The last thing you want is to lose your balance and be helplessly pressed against other people's hot bodies.

[[MORE]]

More travelers trickle in over the next two stops, and when the bus holds for the third time, there's some commotion behind you as a whole group of people is heading for the door. With the number of people shoved into the bus already, there's no space to let them pass, so you do the sensible thing and get off to let them out.

The woman in front gives you a thankful nod, but the following people don't care very much. They spill onto the street in front of you while others already push forward to get on the bus. Trying to make room, you back away too much and have a hard time getting in range of the doors.

"Excuse me, I need to get back on," you grunt, a little panic creeping into your voice. You can't afford to be late for work, and the next bus is 30 minutes out.

Pushing forward more forcefully than you usually would, you make it back to the door when it begins to close. "No, wait!" you shout, although you already see yourself walking through the blistering heat and getting yelled at by your boss for the millionth time.

Only seconds before the doors shut, a hand reaches into the space left, and the safety mechanism reacts, opening the doors again. The same hand reaches for you then.

"Come on, get on," a raspy voice says with some urgency, and you grab the stranger's hand. 

He pulls you into the bus, and you can't help but fall against him before the doors close behind you. Somehow he manages to take a step back to give you some room, and you hold on to the pole near the door.

"Thank you. I thought I'd be late for work again," you sigh before finally looking up at the stranger.

You're glad that you already thanked him since you wouldn't be able to say another word. The guy in front of you is extremely hot, not only due to the temperature. You're caught in his steel-gray eyes, and although one side of his face holds some scars, you can't get over how attractive he is.

"No problem," he says, "would be a shame for you to wait when you're the only person with a brain on here."

An older guy looks over with furrowed brows, but when the stranger fixes a mean stare at him, he turns around without saying anything. You wish you knew something else to say, but the stranger stays quiet as well. For the next few stops, you do a little dance where both of you move past each other to let other people on and off the bus until the stranger carefully tips your shoulder.

"That's my stop," he says, and you make yourself as small as possible so he can squeeze around you.

"Have a nice day," you say quickly when he's outside.

The doors close, but he looks back at you and reaches up to his head, doing a little wave as if he's tipping his hat. You think about him for the remainder of your ride, and when you constantly have to move out of the way, you realize how much the stranger shielded you from the people around you. It's a shame that you won't see him again.

-------

The next day is just as hot and the bus just as full. This time, you position yourself more carefully, though. You stay away from the entrance and find yourself a nice corner so you at least can't be surrounded. A little breeze comes through the open window, and your thoughts drift as the bus rolls on. You focus on nothing in particular, but then you spot the stranger at the other end of the bus, close by the door.

You do your best not to stare, but his mere presence makes you nervous. If he's on the bus two days in a row, there's a chance he'll be here every day. You couldn't stop thinking about him the day before, but you didn't have much to go on. Now you can watch him without him even noticing.

He's wearing a button-down shirt with so many buttons open that he might as well go without it. There's some dark hair peeking out on his chest, and his collarbones are so pronounced that you have the urge to nibble on them.

Although he's tall and narrow in the hips, he's got broad shoulders, and you remember how huge his hand was compared to yours when he pulled you onto the bus. His shorts hug him nicely, and you find yourself fantasizing about a way to lift the shirt and get a better look at him below the waist.

You're so occupied with ogling him that you forget to look away, and suddenly he turns his head, meeting your gaze. You see recognition hitting his face, and he smiles before giving you a small nod. You smile as well, trying to act casual, but your insides catch fire. You don't understand how the guy can be so goddamn attractive, even despite the scars. 

For the lack of a name, you began to think of him as Handsome the day before, and the way he smiles cements that name. As a decent human being, he looks away again, forcing you to do the same. Still, you can't help but sneak peeks at him, and once in a while, he does the same.

You begin to think that it's no accident on his part. He has to turn a little to even meet your gaze, and then he holds your eyes for a moment before looking away again. If you weren't so dense when it comes to social interactions, you might think he's flirting with you. When his stop comes around, he looks at you and does the same goodbye with his hand as the day before, only leaving the bus after giving you another smile.

Of course, you think about Handsome the rest of the day, and whenever work doesn't hold your attention completely, you come up with scenarios that might have you speak to him again.

The next day, you don't even care how many people get on the bus. You position yourself like the day before, watching the door. This time you see Handsome right as he gets on, and he might feel you staring because he finds you just as fast, smiling again. 

Today, he's wearing a somewhat torn band shirt that clings to his body, and since it's shorter than the shirt from the day before, you have a chance to check out his lower half a lot better. You thank an older lady who squeezes past him, forcing him to turn around to sidestep her. You unashamedly stare at his ass, and he's lucky you're not in range for a pinch.

You sigh so profoundly at the thought that the woman next to you gives you a weird look, but you can't really care. Handsome turns back around and looks over, and like the day before, you play this game of looking back and forth until he gets off the bus. In fact, you play this game for the rest of the week. 

You're beyond happy to find that Handsome does take the bus each day, and your days become a series of staring at him to remember every detail on his face and body, so you can think about him for the rest of the day. You're even tempted to take the bus on the weekend to see if he's there but manage to hold yourself back.

On Monday, you put a little more effort into your appearance than usual, and when you get on the bus, you go against your better judgment and stay by the door. As soon as it opens at Handsome's stop, your eyes are on him, and he smiles as he gets on.

While the other people squeeze farther in, he stays closeby and reaches for the same pole you're holding on to. "Hey," he says, barely audible in that scratchy voice of his, and a shiver tickles down your spine.

"Hey," you counter, not sure what else to say.

Handsome doesn't push for a conversation, though. He looks around the way he usually does while you're in a world of pain. You didn't think your plan all the way through. It's one thing to flirt with Handsome from a distance, but now he's right there. 

He's wearing another half-open shirt, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. He comes even closer whenever he has to make room for someone, cloaking you in a cloud of a subtle deodorant and something else that seems to be just him. You're more and more tempted to bury your face in his chest and stay there for the rest of the ride.

Caught up in the sensations, you don't watch yourself enough, and when the bus comes to a sudden halt, you fall forward. Out of instinct, you hold up your hand and end up putting it flat on Handsome's chest. He doesn't waver for a second, and although his skin is soft, you feel like leaning against a rock. 

"I'm sorry," you say, but it takes you a whole battle with yourself to take your hand away from him.

"Don't worry about it," Handsome says, and this time his smile has some more fire. "I don't mind at all."

It sounds like an invitation to touch him again, but although you're tempted as hell, you keep your hands to yourself for the rest of the ride. It's bad enough to be this close. Your body feels hotter from one minute to the next, and you wouldn't mind rubbing yourself against Handsome like a feral cat.

When his stop comes up, he leans in, his voice barely a whisper. "Always a pleasure."

His tone almost has you shiver, and you barely manage to answer. "Likewise."

He fake taps his non-existing hat, and this time he winks at you before getting out, leaving you with butterflies in your stomach. If you keep going like this, you might just die from a heat stroke or heart attack.

The next day, the bus gets so full that you have no chance to stay near the door. You get pushed to the other side of the bus, a foul mood taking hold of you. At Handsome's stop, you don't see him get on and wonder if he's not there today when he suddenly pushes past two other people, getting in your line of sight.

You're heart beats faster at his first smile, and you can't help but look away as heat rises to your cheeks. That night, you had a dream about Handsome. You had no problems with being near him, and after a while, you woke up so aroused that you couldn't fall asleep until you touched yourself to thoughts about the two of you doing the dirty with no restrictions whatsoever.

With the memories flooding your mind, you don't realize how the people around you move, and only when a woman with a stroller pushes in, you back away. A familiar scent enters your nose, and you find yourself right in front of Handsome. Somehow, this position is even worse than the day before. You imagine him putting his arms around you and pulling you close. He could whisper in your ear with that intriguing voice or kiss your neck.

You become so engulfed by the thought that it feels real, and a crazy notion inside of you makes you take another step back. With no more room between you, your ass presses right against Handsome's crotch. You hear a surprised gasp from behind you and feel that he's trying to step away, so you move with him, rolling your hips. You want him to know that it was no accident. Only then do you take a step forward again. After all, you don't want to make him feel uncomfortable.

The seconds tick by, and your heart begins to race. You're sure that you upset him, but then he moves right up to you. His chest presses against your back, and instead of his crotch, you feel his flat hand resting on the outer side of your thigh. You move your hip just a tiny bit, heightening the pressure of his hot hand against your skin. 

Handsome takes the bait. He runs his hand over your ass, and you feel his touch through the thin fabric of your dress. You lean back against him, assuring him that you don't mind, and he loses all inhibitions he might have had.

His hand squeezes the flesh of your ass before he dares to hike up your dress enough to let his hand disappear under it. His fingertips caress the insides of your thighs, and you hold your breath until he runs his fingers over your folds with enough pressure that your underwear might as well not be there. This time it's you who gasps with surprise, and Handsome holds still, waiting for your move.

All you'd have to do is take a step away, but instead, you squeeze your thighs together for a moment before spreading your legs to give him more room. Handsome follows the invitation right away. He runs his fingers back and forth along your folds until you roll your hips ever so slightly. Then, he presses his fingertips to your clit. You can't help but push against him, and when he begins to rub you in small circles, you have to bite your lip to hold in a moan.

You hold on to the pole next to you, your knuckles white from the tight grip. In a panic, you take a look around, but nobody seems to notice what naughty things you and Handsome are up to. You're torn between breaking this off before you embarrass yourself and riding it out till the end. 

Handsome's touch just feels way too good, and you feel his heartbeat against your back. You wonder if he's as horny as you are, but for now, he seems satisfied with pleasuring you. His breath is ghosting over your neck, bringing goosebumps all over your skin, and your nipples rise up, poking at the fabric of your dress. The slight rub doesn't help your situation at all, and with Handsome's constant teasing, your juices begin to flow, soaking your underwear.

It becomes harder and harder to stay quiet. Every touch heightens your arousal, and you can't help imagining what else Handsome could do to you. He sure knows how to make you crazy, and when you roll your hips with more desperation, his fingers speed up, relentlessly driving you over the edge.

You clench your teeth together, holding in your breath and your thighs press together around Handsome's hand as you come, your legs shaking. Taking deep breaths, you close your eyes for a moment, barely able to hold yourself up on the pole.

When you give Handsome's hand free, he caresses your thighs and ass, almost as if he's saying goodbye before taking his hand away completely. He still stays where he is, though, and you're thankful that you can lean against him until you find your way back to reality.

Handsome's stop is coming up, and when you take a step forward to give him free, he leans in, his lips gracing your ear. "Always a pleasure."

A shiver runs down your spine, and you don't find the nerve to say anything, but you still look after him. He gives you the usual goodbye wave and smile, and you have no idea how you're supposed to make it through the day after what just happened.

.... to be continued ....