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You stare up at the huge figure looming in front of you. He is overly excited, gripping the handle of his large axe. “My superstar,” he mumbles, barely audible.
“Yeah, uhm. I… don’t know you? Sorry.” You take a step back, but he steps forward. “I don’t even know your name, geez.”
“Call me whatever you want. I’ll accept any damn title you give me. As long as it’s from you.” He grins, his mouth full of sharp teeth. His red eye shifts to a heart, leering down at you.
“Uh, right. How about… Axe? You seem to like that thing,” you say, gesturing to his hefty weapon. Then you sigh; that nickname was terrible.
But he brightens. “Of course! You’re so observant! My new moniker… It’s wonderful. Oh, superstar, you’re so intelligent. It’s why…” he trails off, getting visibly nervous. “This may surprise you, but I think I’m desperately in love with you.”
You blink. You barely knew this guy, and he was giving you a crazy confession. “Whoa. Sorry, but we don’t know each other.”
He— Axe? Axe took another step closer. “This may be the only time you’re wrong. I know everything there is to know about you. Everything you like, dislike… even love. I hope to add myself to that list.” His breathing seems out of hand. “Fuck, you’re so perfect…” he says in a quiet, almost awestruck voice.
You grin nervously. “Thanks? Look, I’m just trying to get you out of your room. It’s for my job.”
Axe slightly shrinks into himself. “And is that all you wished from me? That’s it? You want me to leave and then… You’ll leave. Like you have already done, crushing my heart.”
You wince. “Look, that blog was a hobby. I’m sorry you got, uh, hurt by me leaving.”
“Apology accepted.” Axe’s smile returns. “Of course I never blamed you! It still hurt, but that doesn’t matter now. You’re here, in front of me, and I could just…” he hesitates for a long pause. “Please, let me touch you.” He drops his weapon to the floor, freeing his hands. That at least eliminates the threat of being bludgeoned.
This still makes you startle, coupled with the sound of the metal and wood hitting the ground. Him? Touch you? But it might motivate him to leave, which means you won’t get killed by whoever hired you. He asked for consent, so you hoped he wouldn’t go too far. “Sure, I guess. Just don’t… yeah.”
Axe’s eye widens and shifts back to a heart. His hands shake violently as he raises them to your face and cups your jaw, gazing intently at you. “It’s just as perfect as I suspected.” He swallows harshly, trying to control his breath.
“Great… You can— let go now.” Instead of letting you go, he moves his thumbs in a circular motion across your cheeks. His hands seem to shake even more.
“If you let me kiss you,” he says suddenly in a low voice, “I’ll leave my room. I’ll go wherever the fuck you need me to.”
You really have to think about this. A kiss? His teeth were scary sharp. The pros did outweigh the cons, though. So you agree tentatively, bracing yourself for some terrible kiss where he tries to choke you—
But it’s gentle. It’s the exact balance of delicacy and roughness that you like. He only nips at your lips when he can tell you’re prepared for a bite. You realize through a haze that he wants you to enjoy yourself. And dammit, he was doing a fantastic job.
You pull away first. It was your turn to be out of breath. Oh, shit. You liked that a bit too much. “W-well. That was— I, uh…”
Axe’s entire demeanor shifts to extreme euphoria. “I’m thrilled. Did you like that as much as I did? That may not be possible—I’ve been dreaming of this. The real thing doesn’t even compare, though.”
“God, you—!” You wipe at your mouth. Your mind was spinning as you tried to decide what to do next. There is no way you could pull yourself away… “You know what? C’mere.”
You grab the material of his red scarf and pull him to you. He looks startled but not irritated. Immediately, he presses his mouth to yours again. You nearly cough—he had decided to uncoil his whole tongue into your mouth. And it feels fucking great. You want to feel that absolutely everywhere; you know that he’ll be more than happy to oblige and give you exactly what you want from him.
“I must be dreaming again,” he murmurs, moving his tongue to the curve of your jaw and neck. “But dammit if I don’t take advantage. You taste so fucking good; I think I’ll never eat again.”
The praise excites you ridiculously. He’s being so soft. Not soft all over— ohh fuck, you’re feeling a lot of things right now.
“Please,” you mumble, trying not to make too much sound. “Axe, you can— shit!”
Axe pushes you by your shoulders down on his messy bed. It’s covered in his clothes, which he sweeps to the floor without a second thought. Getting pushed knocks the breath out of you, causing him to look at you with concern.
“Superstar, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay—? I’m so sorry,” he quickly says.
You reassure him by wrapping your comparatively small hands around his muscular forearms. “I’m fine, I’m fine. But I won’t be if you keep going so slow…” You’re teasing him! You’re teasing this strong mass of a man, and he’s melting for it. He loves every bit of attention you feed him, and that delights you.
With a casual tug, he pulls off your top. You shiver at the rush of cold and at being exposed; your nipples pebble. He looks down at you with so much lust it makes you flush.
Softly running his palm over your chest, Axe tilts his head at you. “Am I right to conclude that you’re having fun? With me—? I can’t fucking believe that I’ve been blessed to make you shiver like this… And you’ve given me a name that only you will call me!” He leans down, hand still on your chest, and murmurs into your ear. “I’m going to make you scream it in your lovely voice. I’ll never tire of hearing you. My superstar…”
You lace your fingers behind his neck, your palms brushing the fine fabric of his hood. Briefly, you wonder if he’ll reveal his face… No, you want him to take off his hoodie so you can dig your nails into his back.
He touches the hem of your sweatpants. “Do I have permission to—”
“Yes, please do!” You frantically nod. “Goddammit, I’ll—”
He nicely removes the rest of your clothing. He’s clearly ecstatic, even trembling. Palming your thigh, he hooks one of your legs around his shoulder. “Superstar, are you ready?”
“If you don’t I think I’ll cry,” you say in a whiny tone. He eagerly dips his head between your legs and holy motherfucker! Goddammit, why is he so good at this?
His tongue is so deliciously long and it’s scraping your insides in such a delightful way. Running his teeth along the inner skin of your thighs, he makes you bite your bottom lip so as to stay quiet. You clench around nothing at all, making him chuckle.
“Sweetheart, you’re doing so well,” he mutters against your skin. He had changed to a new nickname? Not like you disliked it. “I love the way you shiver so easily… So good for me.” Oh dammit, he knows exactly what to say. He really does know you! You’d be terrified if it didn’t feel perfect. You dig your heels into his wide back still covered by fabric and let out a messy sob.
And, oh, when you shake—! He gets a mouthful, then pulls away and licks his teeth. “I could do that forever. I exist purely for your own pleasure.” He looks nearly manic and it’s beautiful. You pant as you gaze up at him like that.
He reaches down and strokes your face. “God, how could I have ever lived without you? Without seeing your prettiness in person? My life has meaning now! All those times you blocked me— none of that matters.”
All you do is meet his loving eye. “Mhm… Fuck, do that again, please!”
“Of course—anything you desire, I’ll give. Damn, you’re so lovely…” He pets you, tracing the swoop of your jaw. Then your neck, collarbone, chest… mmm…
Your chest is a perfect mouthful for his maw. Somehow, his teeth don’t scrape you at all—or you don’t notice. You feel your spine go rigid with harshness and it’s so good. You babble nonsense to him; begging, mostly.
And Axe delights at it. He loves every single damn thing you do, every word you write or say, every request you ask of him. Despite him being a shut-in, he isn’t painfully inexperienced. It’s like heaven steeped in delirium. Twisting all in your gut, you think you whimper. Pathetic, really, but he likes it.
“All that sound for me?” he teases softly. “Should I give you more reason to moan? And I haven’t even felt your insides… I think I’ll die if I do.”
“If you don’t right now,” you pant, “I’ll leave. Job be damned.” That’s not really an option, but you’re also not really thinking straight.
His eye widens as he sits up straight. “Sweetheart, don’t do that.” He touches the scarf covering his neck and considers. “My clothes are a hassle to remove. And you know I’m not a human, right? I don’t want to hurt all your human systems.”
You’re breathing hard on your back. This is getting better and better! Fuck the money, you want to fuck him. If he doesn’t shut up—
He leans back on his knees, allowing him to strip off his heavy boots and the pouches strapped around his thighs. Tossing them to the floor in a heap, he stands upright and—finally!—removes his dark grey pants. You manage to prop yourself upright on your elbows, jaw agape at him. You prided yourself on being able to handle a lot, but there was no way in hell. You’re a monsterfucker now, apparently. Does he— does he have barbs? You shiver at the thought; you can’t tell if it’s exciting or not.
“I can take you,” you say in a small voice. The human body was built to withstand a lot, right? Worse case scenario, you’d be losing the use of your legs.
“Even just my fingers would rip you.” Axe gives you a skeptical look, but there’s no force behind it. He wants, he fucking wants just as much as you do. So he positions himself over you, strong hands on either side of your head.
Your mind is a simple loop of pleas as you look blearily at him. You mumble half of it out loud.
Fortunately, he clearly isn’t one to wait. He effortlessly lines his hips up with yours and fucking slams into you. You’re pretty sure you scream. You bite down on your tongue and almost draw blood with how violently you chomp. And not even to the hilt! Not even half and you’re already whining like a child.
“Sweetheart,” he says in a sultry tone, “how’re you taking it?”
You only respond with a low hum, scratching at his forearms since you can’t reach his back. Getting paid to come here was the best thing to ever happen. “A-are— you gonna… mmm… come out of your r-room—?” you manage to ask him.
He doesn’t respond. He remains hyper focused on every single minuscule movement or sound you make. Again, he hooks your leg over his shoulder for easier access. With each thrust you feel more and more jelly. It felt like your organs were being rearranged to perfectly fit him. You grimace, digging your nails even deeper into his arms covered in fabric.
You’re being stretched. He’s driving you to insanity, not going deep enough for you to feel full. Your voice goes shrill with ecstasy as you randomly plead for him to go harder, faster, deeper.
“You’re taking it so well,” he murmurs to you. “Of course, I always knew you would. You feel so amazing… But I know you’d just about burst apart.” He adjusts both your legs so that both of your thighs are on either side of his waist. Eagerly running his huge hands over your trembling upper legs, he tries to fully insert himself.
“Plea–se…” you choke. Your eyes go blurry and crossed with delight. You cross your ankles around his surprisingly lithe midsection, trying to get closer. He obliges happily, moving his hands to your hips to guide you. “Ohh fuck, please please please— wait holy shit I’m gonna cummm don’t pull out please don’t—” You’re spitting nonsense. You’re basically intelligible, but he understands. He knows you—inside and out, now. It’s not enough: you want him to know the back of your throat, the curve of your spine, the little dip of your clavicle, and every little thing no one’s ever going to see because fuck it he loves you more than you’ll ever love yourself god it’s all too much too much too much—
Axe pulls out when he realizes you’ve had another rolling orgasm. “Sweetheart? You seem real tired.” He’s not standing between your legs anymore; he’s backed off to give you room to breathe and recover. That’s not what you want. You try to sit up so you can pull him down to you but your back hurts too badly.
“No, please, I’m fine. I swear to god I’m great just please get back here,” you whimper between hard pants. Your spine feels like crackling electricity. It’s so yummy and you hope the feeling never vanishes—which it will if he stays away like that.
Seeing the look in your eye, Axe shakes his head. “You’re tired, sweetheart. I don’t want you to wear yourself thin, y’know? Not that I don’t really fuckin’ enjoy this,” he amends. Then he seems to get an idea; he leaves and comes back with a soft robe.
“What are you…?” you mumble, barely propping yourself up. Is he going to bundle you up like an infant?
Apparently so. He carefully sits next to you and wraps the fluff around you, making sure your arms go through the sleeves. Then he lifts you into his lap, your back to his chest. He hugs you.
Aftercare! He’s giving you aftercare! He’s snuggling you sweetly, burying his jaw into the curve of your neck. “I knew this would fix me,” he says quietly, muffled by the fuzz of your new robe. “Your shampoo smells good.”
“…thanks.” You slump forward, finally letting yourself admit your tiredness. He keeps you upright with his arms as he sighs into your skin. It’s so nice.
“Please don’t leave,” he mumbles when you’re half asleep. “I’ll die if you do. All over again.”