South Park Smut And Such

Craig x (Homeless)Fem!Reader: Rescue Me (Part One)

(Possible TW: Homeless, cussing.)
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Your parent(s)/gaurdian(s) kicked you out three years ago when you were sixteen. You've been living on the streets ever since then, surviving off of whatever you can. South Park is very cold, and it's hard to find warmth. It's a miracle you've made it this long.

You're roaming around, your arms crossed over your chest. You are wearing a trench coat that you had stolen, and a worn out pair of underwear. You spot a man, and recognize him immediately. You went to school with him, though You didn't talk to him much. Craig Tucker. You try to get away before he spots you, but it's too late. "Hello?"

His voice is still as monotone as it was back then. Embarrassment courses through your body, but he doesn't seem to recognize you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." He was looking up at the sky from a park bench, the one you usually slept on. He looks you up and down, his facial expression still hard, "I've seen you somewhere before."

"I get around, not in a sexual way, but y'know." You mentally cuss at yourself. "What are you doing out here?" You give him a cryptic look, "I could ask you the same." "I like space, and seeing the stars. Your turn." You sigh, the breath visible in the cool air. "I'm homeless." "So that's why you're dressed like that." Blush floods your face, and you scoff, thankful that the coat goes past your knees.

"You look a little young to be homeless, how old are you?" "I think I turned nineteen yesterday, what's the date?" "(The day after your birthday)" You nod, chuckling a bit. Not a happy chuckle, more of a disappointed one. "How long have you been...out here?" You look down at your worn shoes, "Three years." His expression softens, and he decides not to pry into that subject any longer.

"How have you managed to survive this way? What have you been eating? Aren't you cold?" He seems concerned. "I've been eating rats." He recoils and shifts uncomfortably, "Oh. You could get really sick." "I don't really have another option." He looks more grown up since the last time you saw him, braces now over his teeth, which seem to be nicer.

You can't say the same for yourself. Your hygiene collapsed after about a week of being on the streets. Your hair it matted, your face streaked with dirt and God knows what else. Mud is caked under your nails, some of which are cracked and uneven. You reek of rancid meat and trash, and decide to keep your distance for that very reason.

"Seriously though, you look really familiar." You sigh, looking away again, "We went to school together." "What's your name?" You laugh darkly, "That doesn't matter anymore. My identity died the day I was kicked out. Nobody tried to find me, nobody even remembered that I existed." A weird look crosses his face, "(y/n)?"

"Fuck, it is you. We all thought you moved with your parents." So they did move. "Come to my apartment, you can stay for the night. Get yourself cleaned up and fed and rested. I don't mind, you've been through a lot." "I can't... I don't want to burden you." He growls, clearly irritated by your defiance, "I wasn't asking. Let's go."

He grabs your wrist gently, guiding you away. You don't fight him, you just didn't want to be a bother. He obviously wanted you to come. The warmth engulfs you immediately, and you sigh softly. His apartment is snug, surprisingly well decorated as well. He chucks you a towel, one of his t-shirts, a hoodie, boxers, and a pair of shorts. "I obviously don't have a bra for you, sorry."

You weren't about to admit that you're not wearing one currently. "Oh, that's okay." Craig shows you how to work the shower, pointing out the shampoo, body wash, and conditioner. He hands you a washcloth, and pulls out a clean toothbrush and a travel sized hairbrush. He leaves without another word, and you examine yourself in the mirror. You're very thin, and have heavy bags under your eyes. You take very good care in cleaning yourself up.

Once you're done with that, you brush out your hair, the only bad thing about it now is the split ends. You can live with that. You brush your teeth relentlessly, ignoring the slight discomfort of your gums bleeding. You look much better than before, and dress yourself in his clothing. They hang loose on your body, but they'll have to do. The faint smell of food catches your attention, and you leave the bathroom.

Craig is leaning over a stove, cooking something. Whatever it is, it smells amazing. "Sit wherever, it'll be done soon." He gives you a quick glance, his jaw dropping slightly. He looks away quickly, back at the food. Its some sort of stir fry, and it taste amazing, much better than rats. He stares at you the whole time, watching you scarf down the food. You knew it was probably gross and definitely impolite, but you couldn't help yourself.

Once you've finished two plates, you offer an apologetic glance. He smiles, the first time you've ever seen him smile ever. "You look a lot better than before." He didn't mean it in a rude way, more in a satisfied way. He was happy. "The couch is a pull out bed, I can sleep there if you want my room." You shake your head, "No, it's okay. I don't mind."

"He hands you a few blankets and pulls out the couch, setting up the cushions as pillows. He retreats to his room, and you lay down, bundled up. You feel safe for the first time in a long one. Clean, full, warm, hydrated...you couldn't ask for more. Even if that was just for one night, it was enough enough bring you to silent tears. An hour goes by, and you're finally asleep.

Craig comes out to get a glass of water, smiling upon seeing your sleeping form. He gently tucks your hair behind your ear, whispering softly, "You're safe here." He get his glass, leaving one out on the coffee table next to you in case you wake up thirsty. "Goodnight, (y/n)."
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