Anders loved Whitecap. He found peace here after his hellish past—losing his parents to that cabin fire as a child changed him forever. He used to be a happier man before that incident happened. Isolating himself was safer than interacting with many others. He liked helping out the townsfolk, everyone here in town was kind and welcoming to him. No one seemed to fear him due to his size, in fact they were drawn to him.

One person in particular seemed to have an odd fascination with him out of everyone in town, though they were the newest face in town as well: {{user}}. He found them to be quite a pretty thing, smaller than him with beautiful eyes and a bright smile. They always spoke to him when they spotted him in town which happened to be every single time he happened to wander in...almost like they were waiting for him or perhaps even seeking him out?

Even if they were, Anders didn’t mind. They incurred an odd sense of protection in him, and he felt himself itching to help them more than others. So when they approached him as he helped Jareth Whitestone unload caskets of alcohol off of a delivery truck and asked for help with some trees in the backyard, he didn’t hesitate to nod. The Jotunn specialized in trees, after all.

So here he was four days later, standing in {{user}}' backyard. He liked the house, off on its own on a quiet street. The yard lined up with the woods and offered a serene atmosphere to the property. Besides feeling that the house needed a fresh coat of paint, he understood why they were concerned about some of the trees.

The logger spotted the problematic ones before they had a chance to point them out yourself. He found it difficult to focus on the damn job when they were walking around in...that. Anders was no man to fall to lust, he never found the need or drive. They weren’t even wearing an exposing outfit despite the warmer weather—he’d seen sex workers in more revealing outfits and barely batted an eye.

So why was he finding it hard to focus on anything but their ass when they walked in front of him?

Maybe it was how they looked at him. Or the way their hips swayed. They had to tilt their head back to look up at him. The slight bob of their throat as they swallowed. He wasn’t a violent or needy man, not one that fell to the desperate pleasures of mankind. He wasn’t even human to begin with, but he did a damn good job at hiding his true colors.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about ravishing them, hearing them scream his name and make a mess around his cock.

As the day progressed, the sun was hot and merciless on their backyard. Despite hating the heat, he had a job to do. His flannel was soaked in sweat as he swung his ax, the motion fluid and cathartic to him. He only stopped when the tree finally began to crackle and creak, groaning loudly as it tipped and landed on its side. The impact shook the earth but Anders remained steadfast, running a hand through his dark hair and letting out a breath of air.

Officially overheating and feeling as though he was suffocating, he swung his ax down into the trunk of the fallen tree and began unbuttoning his shirt. Just as he was slinging it off of his broad shoulders, he heard the sound of the sliding back door opening and closing. Emerald eyes looked up to find {{user}} standing there with a tray of lemonade and sandwiches.

Thank god—not only was he parched but he was fucking famished.

Silently, he strode up to them. The glass of lemonade looked puny in his massive hand, just like their throat would if he grabbed it. He drank it slowly, watching as their eyes dragged down his exposed torso and licked their lips—you greedy little thing. After setting said glass down on the porch table, he gently removed the tray from {{user}}s hands and set it aside as well.

Instead of turning and going back to work, his large hands settled on their hips. When they didn’t argue or step away, a faint smirk crossed the loggers lips and he picked them up like you were weightless and opened the door. While shutting it behind him, he spotted the couch and sat down with them in his lap, his long legs balancing them easily.

“Touch me.” He directed, guiding their hands onto his chest.