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a-squishy-cherry · 3 years ago

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Cold Nights (Strong Boy x Reader)

Summary: It gets cold in the Tail, especially during the night. Strong Boy notices you shivering and decides to help you warm up.

Warnings: fluff, vaginal fingering, smut, semi-public sex, barely disguised size kink, consent is asked multiple times, I gave Strong Boy a name and a personality, not proofread. Minors im not your mom but if you click read more its on you

A/N: Well folks, there it is. Two years after I started writing it. Better late than never lol. Enjoy my ~2K words of self-indulgence

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The nights in the Tail get cold. It never gets cold enough for someone to actually die of hypothermia in their sleep, but absolutely enough to have you shivering on the thin mattress of your bed. Despite your layers of winter clothing, the cold managed to get through your skin and into your bones.

You exhaled, watching your breath clouding in the air of the wagon, then closed your eyes, trying to sleep and silently hoping that the thin curtain of your bunk was enough to muffle the chattering of your teeth.

Just as you could feel your tiredness catching up to you, you felt a huge, warm hand gently setting itself on your shoulder. You sharply turned to identify the intruder, barely recognizing the bearded face poking through the curtain.

“Strong Boy?”

“Are you okay?” he signed slowly.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, careful to not wake anyone else, “I’m just cold. Sorry if I woke you up. Don’t worry.” He looked at you suspiciously for a minute, as though he didn’t believe you, then huffed before motioning for you to move back towards the wall.

“What? Why?”

“Just scooch over,” his hands said.

You complied, shivering even more as you left the warmed imprint your body had left on the blanket.

“What now?” You asked, rolled in a tight ball as a futile attempt to keep what little warmth you managed to produce.

You nearly jumped out of your skin and had to stifle a small, surprised yelp when he lifted the blanket by a corner, crawled onto your mattress and pushed you into his wide chest.

You debated pushing him away for roughly 5 seconds, your cheeks so hot they nearly glowed in the darkness of the car, but the warmth that suddenly enveloped you quickly changed your mind. His arms were thick, huge compared to your much smaller frame, the flat of his massive hand finding its way to the small of your back, heating your skin and pushing you closer to him.

“I have to admit, that feels nice,” you mumbled, burrowing your face in his shirt.

“I don't think the bed is big enough for the two of us, though…”

He merely grunted in agreement before wrapping his arms tighter around you and flopping onto his back, holding you against his torso.

“y-yeah, that works too.” You mumbled, your cheek squished on his chest, and you hoped to whoever was still up there that he couldn’t feel the heat radiating from your face.

He could.

Oh, Strong Boy loved this. He loved this very much. Your arms on each side of him, your head on his torso, the slow rising and falling of your ribcage as you were finally drifting off to sleep. He slowly stroked your back with one hand, the other resting between your shoulderblades, smiling at this small moment of peace in the Tail.

He couldn’t resist. He had to, you were too cute, and the moment too perfect to be wasted.

He raised his head, then pressed a single, gentle kiss to the top of your hair. He could get used to this, he thought. The way your body molded so perfectly against his, the way your cheek was squished on his chest.

Everyone could see it, except for the two of you.

He liked you. You were so kind to him, the mere sight of you bringing a smile to his face every morning. He found himself practicing words he associated with you. Kind. Beautiful. Cute. Brave. He loved the sound of your voice when you told stories to the kids of the Tail, or when you said “Good morning, Strong Boy!”.

You liked him. He was so kind to you, especially during the first Revolution. Somehow, he was always ready to catch you when you would stumble during a rough patch of track. You loved his eyes the most. They were a dark brown, nearly black, but so soft and expressive, with tiny wrinkles you could only see when he smiled.

Everyone could see it, and now you did too.

You crawled on his chest, bringing yourself to his eye level, and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was chaste at first, almost shy, and you quickly noticed his lips were a little chapped, but warm. You didnt care, honestly. This kiss was a long time coming.

His tongue brushed your lower lip, asking for permission, which you happily granted. You parted your lips, letting him explore hyour mouth.

As you pulled away, panting, you felt him bend his knee, and his thick, muscular upper leg was now snuggly nestled between your thighs. You swallowed, trying your best to not make a sound, but despite your best efforts, a tiny, strangled whimper managed to escape your throat.

You felt Strong Boy starting to spell out words on your skin.

“You ok? Want me to stop?”

“yeah”, you whispered, “I’m, uh, no. D-Don’t stop. Please. It kind of - it feels good.”

“Okay. Good.”

You could swear to Wilford himself you felt him smirk when he wrote those words in your palm.

He pressed his thigh closer to your core and, both hands on your hips, encouraged you to rock your body into him. You hesitated, and understandably so: there is little to no privacy in the Tail, and the thin curtain of your bunk was definitely not enough to muffle anything that might eventually happen in your bed.

As though he could sense your hesitation, Strong Boy started lightly kissing your neck as his hands moved your pelvis, grinding your still clothed pussy on his leg.

You buried your face in his chest as you started moving your hips against his thigh, feeling the tension build up in you.

The way your body felt against his was too much, the way you smelled, the way you moved, the moans you breathed against his shirt. He could feel himself getting hard, straining in his pants. But that didn’t matter to him right now. What mattered the most in that specific instant was making you feel good.

He rolled over, putting you under him, arms on each side of your head. He looked at you, his dark eyes searching your own for something, anything that would tell him you wanted him to stop. You gently put your hands on either side of his face and pulled him down for another kiss, effectively melting what remained of his resolve.

One of his hands went to cradle the back of your head while the other made its way from your neck down your torso, where he stopped hesitantly at the hem of your shirt. You sat up, removing your shirt and your bra before laying back down. You grabbed his hand with your own, sliding it up your torso and guiding him to your chest. He marveled for a few seconds at the sight and feel of you, then bent down to kiss a trail from under your ear, down your neck, and between your breasts. He took your left nipple in his mouth, lazily licking it as he stroked your other breast.

His mouth still on you, he slid his hand down your torso and into your pants, undid the button, searching with his fingers for the waistline of your underwear. When he grazed the elastic, he put a finger under your chin, making you look at him. He drew your attention to his free hand as it twisted into a sentence.

“Can I?”

You nodded, breathing shakily, hastily tugging down your pants.

He pulled down your underwear to your thighs and shoved his hand between your legs, torturously dragging his finger over your entrance and rubbing circles on your clit. The delicious pressure nearly made you jump, and you barely had the time to slam a pillow over your mouth as you stifled a whimper in your throat.

He was much bigger than you. He couldn’t forget that, which is why he started by inserting only one finger into your dripping pussy and slowly thrusting it and out of you. He paid attention to how you reacted, and made sure to spend a little extra time on that small spot inside that had you tightening for a split second.

When he was sure you had adjusted to his finger, he added another one, still thrusting with his hand. He curled his fingers into you as he dragged them out, making your back arch into him and further reinforcing the necessity of the pillow that was still muffling you.

Then, with no warning, he removed his finger only to lay them flat directly on your clit and starting to stroke you in a languid, torturous circular motion. Your held the cushion tighter against your mouth, sweet little cries swallowed by the stuffing, your legs trembling around Strong Boy’s arm. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, breathing hotly against your skin, one of your hands tangled in the dark ginger of his hair, the older still miraculously holding the cushion in place.

God, he wanted so bad to grab the pillow you put over your mouth and throw it to the other side of the room. He wanted to hear every gasp you would let out, he didn’t care about the other passengers; he wanted to hear you cry out his name.

His name.

You didn’t even know his name. All those seven years, you’ve only known him as Strong Boy.

He briefly stopped, just enough to draw your attention. He gently put your free hand on its back, then spelled a word in your palm, letter by letter, with his finger.

Angus.

“A-Angus? Is that- Is that your name?” you breathed.

He nodded, a smile ghosting over his face, before resuming his torture on your now dripping and sensitive pussy.

He huffed as he heard your already quiet moans muffled through the thickness of the pillow once again. Still, he felt pride swelling in his chest; you weren’t only moaning. You were squeaking his name. He was making you feel like that.

You suddenly felt a familiar coil tightening in your belly. You dropped the pillow, your hands choosing instead to grab Angus’ shoulder, holding onto him like he was your anchor and you were about to fly away.

“A-angus— I’m gonna- please don’t stop-“ you panted quietly but desperately, cheek pressed against the railroad track tattoo running along his shoulder.

He hugged your body closer to his -if such a thing was even possible at this point-, and just slightly sped up the movement of his fingers on your clit.

The coil in your stomach finally snapped. Your back abruptly arched, your legs trembling around Angus’s wrist.

“O-oh my god, Angus!” Came as a quiet, strangled whimper managing to escape from your throat as your orgasm finally hit you.

The giant bent over to kiss you, swallowing your whines, as he diligently stroked you through your climax.

When you came to, you practically feel his gaze burning through you. He was laying next to you, chin resting on his palm.

“Did it feel good?” He signed, his smile almost lighting up the room.

You nodded, your eyelids getting heavier by the minute. “But wh-what about y-you?” You murmured, eyeing the now obvious and most likely uncomfortable tent in his pants. “I want you to feel good too.”

He chuckled, bending down to capture your lips in another kiss.

“Maybe another time. Somewhere a bit more private. I wanna do things to you a pillow won’t be able to mute.”

You somehow felt your cheeks grow even hotter at the notion of Angus apparently wanting to absolutely ravage you.

“I’ll hold you to that.” You yawned, cuddling into his chest, fatigue finally catching up to you. He pulled the blanket over the both of you, his arm enveloping you once more, and he let himself drift off.

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