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The Man Who Saved Me (Updated 20 Jan - Chapters 1 to 23)

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On 12/28/2018 at 9:48 PM, Speech500 said:

“I’m practically a hobbit.”

“You’re my hobbit and I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who has a problem with it.” He says it so seriously, I can’t help but laugh. He has no idea how much he's done to ease my insecurities, just by accepting me for what I am. But if he thinks it'll help, he'll punch something anyway. 


This had me in absolute stitches.  Just caught up on the exquisite chapter additions you've made over the holidays.  Thanks again for sharing this with us all!

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Great work. I am enjoying the story so much. It's compelling, flows naturally and really fun to read.  Thanks for putting the time and sharing it with us (and also for posting chapters so frequently!)  

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Chapter 15

Today is my first shift at my new job. I received offers from a wide variety of places, including a number of Michelin starred restaurants. But now that I have Dean, I don’t feel such a pull to prove myself by being successful. And working in a packed kitchen is oppressive, stressful, and takes a lot of time. So instead I go for a nearby patisserie café – Last on the Left. The salary is still very good, but the work will be a lot more relaxed. And the shop itself is beautiful, which is always a bonus.

It feels weird to leave Dean behind. We’ve been practically joined at the hip for weeks now. This is for the best – we can’t be around each other all the time. When he and I started this relationship, I gave the condition that I had to be allowed to live my own life. That’s what I’m doing now. Besides, it gives him a chance to be a superhero. As I walk to work, I notice a white truck parked right across from our building. The space is reserved by a woman with a convertible, so I don’t know what a truck is doing in that spot.

The shop’s owner is a charismatic woman called Jolene. I spoke to her on the phone, but in person she’s a lot louder. She's ex-navy, and it shows in everything from her cleanliness to her posture. I can immediately tell we’re going to get along.

The kitchen is immaculate, all chrome and clean white tiles. I’m in heaven. I need no introduction to any of the equipment, and since I’ve been itching to bake ever since losing my job at the Shard, I’m halfway through the preparation for a batch of profiteroles before Jolene has even finished the introductions. She watches me bake from the kitchen doorway, keeping an eye on our customers. I get the occasional question on my technique, what recipes I use, what I know how to cook and what I want to learn. I answer them all. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. With the whole kitchen to myself, I don’t need to worry about cleaning up after anyone else, or stepping on any feet, or shouting to be heard. And there’s no menu. I can cook whatever I want, and Jolene will change the refrigerated displays accordingly.

We work like this for most of the day. Business is booming, but never becomes overbearing. As the afternoon races on and the flood of customers reduces to a trickle, I find myself out of the kitchen more often than I’m in it, chatting with customers in the warm sunlight, sipping tea and listening to Jolene’s stories of working as a cook on the HMS Kent when she was younger. At one point, I step outside for a breath of fresh air, and notice a white van parked next door. It’s definitely the same one from earlier. It has a scuff of dirt in the same spot on the windshield, the same license plate. What a bizarre coincidence. Out of all the places in London, it ended up here.

While I’m finishing our last batch for the evening, the bell rings to signal that a customer has come in. Jolene lets out a gasp and whispers under her breath. “Christ on a cracker, that’s a lot of man. I’d let him fold me up like a lawn chair and turn me inside out.”

I burst into laughter, carefully removing the tray from the oven. “He’s really that good?”

“Better.” I feel her hand tapping my shoulder. “I need you to be my wingman. He’s coming!”

Taking a moment to compose myself, I transfer the strudels to a cooling rack before returning to the shop front, but what I find sends me into another fit of laughter far more powerful than the last. My knuckles go white on the top of the counter. I fight to regain my breath.  Dean scratches his neck and smiles politely to Jolene as she leans forward with her cleavage on show, pouting up a storm. “Hey handsome. You free tonight?” She mimes a kiss.

Now I’m wiping tears from my eyes.

Dean’s cheeks flush red. He clears his throat. “Uh…” This may be the first time I’ve seen him so shaken.

Licking her lips, Jolene pushes her advantage. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

Okay, that’s enough. I finally decide to rescue my poor defenceless boyfriend. “Jo, why don’t I handle this customer? The strudels need dusting with icing sugar.”

She slips into the kitchen with a knowing nod. “Make me sound sophisticated.”

“Yes Ma’am.” With her gone, I take her place in front of Dean. One look at each other and the laughter breaks out again. “That’s Jolene.”

“She’s… nice.”

“I’m guessing you heard everything?”

He shrugs. “Yeah… I can take a tank shell to the face with no problems, but that was too much.”

“Who knew your one weakness was a strong independent woman?”

“I’ll never look at a lawn chair in quite the same way…” He grins. His enormous hands are splayed on the counter, making mine took fragile and tiny by comparison. “Although it did give me a few ideas.”

“Really? Do tell… though I should warn you, if they’re naughty, I will scream.”

He hunches down so that his mouth is next to my ear. “Oh, you’ll be screaming alright.” I gulp. He smirks.

“What…” I take a few deep breaths. “What can I get for you?”

Dean asks for a coffee and some Danish pastries, which I refuse to let him pay for (much to his annoyance), then he finds a spot in the corner of the shop. It’s pretty empty so there are plenty of spaces. Besides him, a pair of old women nibble biscuits and talk about their grandkids, and a group of stocky young men in gym clothes are near the back, sipping cans of cider from their pockets which they think we haven’t noticed, and are gradually getting more rowdy by the minute. Neither Jolene nor myself have the guts to kick them out because the last thing we want is a scene, so we’re waiting in the hope that they get bored and leave.

I keep casting glances at Dean as we sort through stock and prepare to close. Why did he come here? Knowing how paranoid he can be, he probably got worried about letting me walk home in the dark on a Friday night, and came to escort me. That would explain why he arrived so late into the shift, and why he hasn't left despite finishing his coffee ten minutes ago. 

As Jolene helps me wipe down the cooking equipment in the kitchen, she shoots me a glare. “Worst wingman ever. You could’ve told me I never stood a chance.”

“What do you mean?” She’s clearly referring to Dean, but I want to see where this goes.

“That hunk. I cranked the charm up to a hundred, and you know that shit always works. No man can resist these curves.” Jolene demonstrates her point with a swing of her formidably sized hips. “But the moment you appeared, it’s like he forgot I was even there. I might as well have turned into a damned lampshade. The guy couldn’t take his eyes off you. Totally smitten.”

“You think so?”

“Hell yes, honey.” She vigorously nods. “That was the face of a man in love.”

Now there’s a stupid big smile on my face. Knowing that someone so strong and powerful and protective is in love with me to such an extreme that it’s visible even to a random stranger causes warmth to hum in my chest. “He is kinda’ hot.” I admit, fully aware that Dean is listening to every word we say. “Did you see his arms?”

“It’s hard not to. Those biceps were the size of my head. I always thought really big bodybuilder types with all the veins were kind of gross, but I’ve honestly changed my mind.” She closes her eyes, lost in a fantasy. “I bet he feels rock hard under all those clothes.”

He does. But I’ll keep that to myself. Part of the fun of worshipping Dean’s body is that I’m the only person who can.

“You startin’?” A deep shout echoes in from the shop front.

“Piss off! I’ll fucking batter yuh.” Another voice replies.

“I’ll fuck yuh nan, mate!”

Jolene and I roll our eyes at each other. We both hold up a hand. Rock, paper, scissors. Rock, paper, scissors. Shit. She wins both times. “Okay, I’ll go deal with them.” I say with a sigh. This job was meant to be easy.

I return to find two of the young men shoving at each other, getting in each other’s faces, and generally being aggressive. The rest of the group are standing around to watch, egging them on. The nearby tables have been shoved out of the way to make a clearing. This is definitely going to turn violent if it isn’t de-escalated.

“Okay guys, can you take this outside?” I say as I approach, wiping my hands on my apron. Every eye immediately flashes to me. Now that I see their faces, it’s obvious that this is going to be a challenge. They’re all completely drunk. “We’re closing up. I don’t mind you sticking around until you’re ready to leave, but I’d rather not be here until tomorrow morning cleaning blood off the floor.”

“Fuck off. This is getting good.” Shouts one of the onlookers as he tosses a half-empty can of Stella at my head. I manage to dodge out of the way, but the loud clanging tells me I’ll have to mop again. The guy who threw it has his phone out and is filming the whole thing to put on snapchat. “Matt’s gonna’ knock Gav’s block off! Wahey!” He shouts, and the others join in, chanting some football song.

“Look, if you leave now, I’ll let each of you take a treat. Sound fair?” I know I shouldn’t be rewarding bad behaviour, but at this point, I’ll take whatever gets rid of these assholes. And the pastries would just be thrown in the bin when we close anyway.

The promise of food seems to sway some of them, but that only angers the rest who wanted to see a fight. One of them shoves me in the chest. He might only be seventeen or so, but he’s still bigger than me. I stumble back and slip on the beer. The guys burst into laughter in response.

Before I hit the ground, two hands close around my waist and lift me back onto my feet. Then my view of the men is eclipsed by Dean’s colossal back. He’s tensing every muscle in his body. I see his traps rise and fall on his neck, his forearms twitch and flex. Two thick horseshoe triceps stand clear on the backs of his arms. The black shirt he’s wearing isn’t tight, but it still struggles to hide the densely packed mounds of muscle which coat him like a suit of armour. He looms over the guy who pushed me. “Don’t you ever touch my boyfriend.”

The guy puffs out his chest, all bluster. “I’m not scared of a fuckin’ faggot.”

Dean’s hand closes around the back of the guy’s shirt and lifts him effortlessly into the air. His legs dangle a foot off the ground. “Say that again.” His voice has lowered to a bestial growl.

The guy’s face drains of colour. “I… uh…” He bites his lip, wisely choosing to stay silent.

“That’s what I thought.” When he lets go, the guy slips on the beer and lands flat on his ass. “Anyone else want to chat shit? No? Then get the fuck out and don’t come back.”

One of the onlookers speaks up. “Do we still get free pastr…” One look from Dean and he shuts up real quick. “Never mind.”

When the young men are gone, Dean takes me aside and asks “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“Only my pride.” I force a smile. “Thanks Dean.”

“It was nothing.”

“I’ve never heard you call me your boyfriend in public before. I like it.”

His face breaks into a boyish grin. “So do I.”

Together we get the floor cleaned up and make our way out into the night. Jolene stays behind to close up shop. The journey home is totally fine, and I probably never had anything to worry about, but I sense that Dean is happy knowing I’m protected, even if there’s nothing around to be protected from.

I briefly wonder whether I should tell him about the strange truck I saw. But I decide against it. It’s not a very interesting story, and besides, the café isn’t that far from home.

It's probably nothing.

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Thanks for another thrilling chapter. I feel a slight tension building with the sighting of this truck, twice and I can't help but wonder if the young guys drinking were perhaps staged, to discover Dean's identity - by him protecting Jake. Before Jake throws out the pastries, could I offer to maybe do some mopping for a couple to take home with me?


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There's been so much amazing content here recently that I haven't had any time to write my own. Plus I've been struggling to decide where I want the story to go. I have a basic template in mind, but I can't decide whether I want to stick to the day-in-the-life kind of stuff, or whether I should take the more dramatic route which would potentially be less sexy and more emotional, but would give the story a more fulfilling arc. So if you have an opinion on that, feel free to share. 

Chapter 16

The next day when I come home from work, Dean is eating poptarts and watching Spiderman 3. I tried watching the first two with him, but he kept scoffing and pointing out how unimpressive Spider-man’s feats of strength are, asking why the civilians were so impressed when Dean could’ve stopped that train with one hand. More than once, I had to point out that this was in fact a movie.

“Hey Jake!” He calls without lifting his gaze from the screen.

“Hey D…” I squint my eyes.

“What?” Dean looks up, sensing my hesitation.

“You look different… Are you... bigger?”

“Yeah.” He says. “Another growth spurt. Wanna’ measure me?”

I suppose it’s not unusual for men to have a second growth spurt in their early 20s, but I get the impression that this is far from Dean’s second. Standing up close, it’s hard to tell. When someone is already so big, it’s not obvious when they grow a little more. At 5’9” to his 6’8”, the top of my head should come to the middle of his chest. Now I don’t even reach his nipples. I get Dean to stand against the wall, pushing a chair next to him and anchoring a tape measure under his toe. It’s disorienting being so high and I can’t believe Dean lives like this every day.

“I’m not seven foot am I?” He grimaces. I know he doesn’t like the idea of reaching that benchmark.

“Six foot eleven. You’ve gained three inches.” 6’11”. Christ. As if he wasn’t imposing enough already.

Dean lets out a sigh of relief.

Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t seen him all day, it might be his impressive new size, or it might be the fact that he looks particularly dashing tonight, but I find myself staring. My eyes trace the firm line of his jaw, the rippling pecs and delts that dance whenever he moves. God he’s handsome. After a few seconds of silence, he turns to me, a wolfish grin creeping across his lips. “What are you-“ Is all he gets out before I dive on him, kissing, licking, rubbing my hands over the dense crevices of his muscular back.

He returns the kiss with equal passion. Enormous arms scoop me up and deposit me on the edge of the kitchen counter. He towers over me, one hand on the granite countertop either side of me. “That was sneaky.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Hell no, I'm impressed. No one's ever gotten the drop on me. You wanna keep going?”

In a rush of confidence, I tell him yes. I’m ready to go all the way.

“You sure?” He licks his lips. “How do you want this to go down?”

I lean in to whisper in his ear “I like it rough.”

Dean’s eyes widen. I hear a crunching sound. A web of cracks fans out from Dean’s hands to cover the counter. He moves to grab me, and all I see are thick indentations in the granite before I hit my bed. As Dean crawls up over me, pinning my arms above my head with one hand, I hear the mattress creak in desperation.

“I don’t know if this thing can hold you.”

“Maybe not. When I said I was 450lbs, that was a lie.”

“What’s the truth?”

He shrugs and smirks. “A few tons? I’m always using flight to lessen the weight or I’d go straight through the floor. I’m just so dense.” With that, he starts to suck my nipples, causing me to moan. When he frees my hands, I reach for his fly and take out his cock. It’s semi-erect, and grows thicker and longer and harder every second. He’s enormous. It takes both of my hands to even begin to cover it. “Holy shit.” I gasp. Dean chuckles, causing his brick-like abs to tense and his dick to jump. I rub my tongue up from the base to the tip, over hair and thick veins. Then I open my mouth as wide as possible and take him in, sucking and licking feverishly. He lets out a deep, resonant groan that makes me head vibrate. Somehow his dick is still growing. It must be 12 inches at this point. Easily. I might normally worry about taking him, but right now I’m so horny I don’t care. I feel Dean holding the back of my head, guiding me back and forth over his mammoth cock. Now that it’s erect, I can’t budge it an inch. It’s like a rolling pin.

At the same time, he starts to play with my ass. I clench tight before forcing myself to relax. This is Dean. My hero. He won’t really hurt me. Applying a little lube to an index finger longer and thicker than most dicks, he slips it inside. I moan, squeezing myself tight against his indestructible pecs. “You like that?” He mutters as his finger pushes in and out. “You still want it rough?” I nod.

“Be careful what you wish for.” His voice comes out as an animalistic growl.

In an instant I’m face down, his immovable body poised over me. I hear the sound of lube being applied and shiver as he presses it into me. Then his cock starts to inch its way in, stretching me in a way I didn’t think possible. I open my mouth to scream and his hand clamps over my face, silencing me. He’s shaking with the strain of holding back the beast. I clench my ass around his dick and that pushes him over the edge. “Fuck.” He grunts, slamming all the way into me. Colours pop in my vision and despite his hand, I let out a shriek. He reaches parts of me I didn’t know existed.

“You okay?” He asks, waiting for me to adjust to his girth. I’m guessing he used his x-ray vision to make sure nothing important got damaged.

After a moment of deep breathing, trying to relax myself, I nod. He grabs my hips and slowly pushes me away, then pulls me until my back slams against his chest. We both cry out together, his deep and rumbling, mine high. After a few slow pumps, he speeds up, always going all the way in, always bringing a moan to my lips, a heady mixture of pleasure and pain. He stands up, using his hold on my hips to support my weight, and starts fucking me like a flesh-light. One colossal arm wraps around my neck, forcing my eyes to his. One flex, and my breath is cut off by his rock hard bicep. I scramble at the muscles in his arms even as he continues to pound in and out of me like a piston. For the first time since I’ve known him, he’s clammy with sweat. Veins stand out on his skin like a road map which just makes him all the hotter. It hurts, but I feel my dick throb in response. I open my mouth to say ‘harder’ but no air will come out. As if he could hear me anyway, Dean’s bulging muscles tighten around my throat with such overwhelming force that I know I’m about to black out. I feel myself orgasm and dig my fingers into Dean’s arms – not that I can hurt him even slightly. “Fuck yeah!” He rumbles, leaning over to watch me squirt. “My turn.”

Dean finally removes his arm and lets me breathe. “You… wanna… do it… inside… me?” I whimper between pumps as he makes me his bitch.

“I’d like to see anyone try to stop me, little guy” He clamps down harder to prove his point and I hiss from the pain. Then his head falls back and he lets out a savage roar so loud that it makes the house shake and leaves my ears buzzing. I feel him empty himself into me, thick streams of cum that go on and on and on, filling me up until no more will fit, so it starts to pour out of my ass like a leaky pipe, coating both of us. The smell is overwhelming – hot and raw and masculine.

That was everything I thought it would be and more. Dean rests his head on my shoulder, still holding me up. “Fuck, I love you, Jake.”

“I love you too.”

He tilts my face around to meet his lips and kisses me long and slow. “Come on.”

As if I have a choice. I’m carried into the bathroom like I weigh no more than a feather. Just like in the valley, he slowly, tenderly washes every part of me. My ass will be sore for a week, and there are already harsh bruises forming on the sides of my thighs where he supported me, as well as my neck. To these areas, Dean pays special attention.

When we’re done, he throws himself onto the bed, frowning as it collapses loudly under his weight. “I’ll fix it tomorrow.” He says.

I laugh and snuggle up to him, resting against his powerful abdominals and striated pecs. Dean actually looks out of breath. I’ve never seen that before. "You were seriously a virgin? That was insane, Dean."

He puffs up his chest in pride. “I liked it. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so strong. Then I’d be able to really let loose.”

“It’s not all bad.” I say, kissing his neck. “Not many guys are strong enough to do some of the stuff you did. And that was damned sexy.”

“Oh yeah?” He says with a grin.

“Yeah. Although next time we’re using the mask, like you promised.”

“I guess there are perks to being a superhero.”

We lie there for a while, taking comfort in the embrace. I never feel safer than when I’m here with Dean. The man who loves me and wants to protect me, an unstoppable, immovable god. And then a question enters my mind.

“I’ve always wondered. What does lava feel like?”

“Why?” He turns to me, brow furrowed.

“Well the temperature of lava is so high that the liquid in my arm would boil before I got close enough to touch it. But you could, right?”

“Yeah…” Dean tilts his head. “It’s hot."

"Really? You learn something new every day."

Dean laughs. "I guess it's a lot thicker than you’d expect – feels less like treacle and more like… bread dough? Yeah, that. Kind of fibrous. And it gets this weird crust on top where the air has made it set.”

“Huh.” I have no clue what to do with that information. But it answers a question, at least. “Ever been to space?”

“Yeah. I spent a lot of time out there trying to figure out the upper limits of my power. It’s not that the air resistance slows me down, I just didn’t want to cause any damage.”

“And what did you find out?”

A non-committal shrug. “I can fly as fast as I want to. Although there’s a point where physics start to get weird, and I don’t like going beyond that. I tested out my strength by punching the ground on Venus and measuring the impact. The craters got a little too big and I had to stop. If I carried on using more and more force, I would’ve destroyed the planet.” He talks about punching Venus to pieces the way I might offhandedly mention that a barista at Starbucks got my order wrong. Like it’s not the most astonishing display of physical power in history. Even knowing what I do about Dean’s abilities, I’m stunned at just how incredible they are. “Venus sucks, by the way. It’s just black stone hills and volcanoes and thick yellow air that stinks of rotten eggs as far as you can see. I think the atmosphere is meant to be made of acid but I didn’t really notice. There aren’t many craters, or at least there weren’t before I came along. But the surface isn’t visible from earth so I don’t think anyone will notice.” 

“Where else have you been?”

He squints, casting back his mind. That fact that he has to think about it is shocking. Space travel should be a pretty prominent memory. I guess it’s all the same to Dean. When you can do anything, nothing is special. “Some of the gas giants are pretty cool. You’d expect them to be boring, being gas and all. But they’re pretty crazy. There’s an ocean on Neptune, and the pressure causes solid diamonds to form and fall like rain into the core. And Saturn’s rings are amazing in person. I never realised how many different colours they were.”

I can’t help the jealousy bubbling up as I listen to Dean talk. Not just because he doesn’t really seem to appreciate the significance of his actions, but also because I’ll never be able to repeat them. I try not to blame him. After all, if there was any way to take me to see the rings of Saturn, and he thought it would make me happy, I know he’d do it in an instant. But there is no way – not a realistic way. So I content myself with stories.

“Just make sure you take photos next time.”

Besides, he knows plenty of other ways to make me happy. 

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22 minutes ago, Speech500 said:

“I’ve always wondered. What does lava feel like?”

LMAO what a  nice after sex conversation.

Dean powers are beyond what anyone could thing . He really is controlling himself around Jake.

I would loveto read even if it is for a day Jake having the enough strength for Dean to really let loose when they are together cause all that pent up energy Dean is holding back will explode someday 

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16 hours ago, Speech500 said:

Chapter 16

That was a HOT chapter, well done.  I too wouldn't have been able to contain my lust if my huge superhero boyfriend suddenly got a little bigger

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