Finn
I have a hangover from hell.
How much did I drink last night? As far as I can remember I didn't drink anything, but my splitting headache says otherwise. So does the fact that my body feels heavy, like I'd spent all night fucking.
I groan, I hope I didn't spend the night fucking.
Cracking my eyes open, I'm confused as to why everything is green. Did I fall asleep in the woods? Kidnapped by the Faye? Eaten by a python? But if it was the snake wouldn't everything be black instead of green?
A light snoring interrupts my question spiral and also answers one. The green around me moves, shifting us both so that I'm now laying on a very large, very naked orc chest.
"Oh shit," I mutter as he wraps his arms tighter around me in his sleep. How in the actual fuck had I gotten into this mess? Last thing I remembered was Clara dragging me down an alley and then... nothing.
Dread fills me, had this orc attacked us? Possibly killed Clara and taken me?
My legs rub together almost unconsciously, and I'm relieved to find that I'm still in my pants. So that means, hopefully, I didn't fuck or get fucked by this orc last night. Still didn't explain how I ended up in his room and on his chest.
At this point though, I didn't really care what happened. My only concern was how I was going to get out of this situation.
And almost as if he could feel the tension rising in my body, arms loosen slightly and I use it as my opportunity to wiggle down his body, trying to get out from under his large arms and make my escape.
I manage to get out from under his arms and sit up so that I'm straddling him and looking down at the sleeping orc.
"How the fuck is he fitting on this bed?" I whisper.
Truth be told I couldn't even see the bed under his large body. His chest alone was at least four times the size of mine covered in scars. He'd somehow burrowed under the pillows, blocking my view of his face, his arms are the size of my body and as I turn to look behind me, his legs were falling off the edge of the bed.
Or, from what I could see around the absolutely massive tent that was pitched behind me.
"Yeah," I muttered in shock. "I think I would definitely know if I fucked that."
Carefully crawling off the orc, I stand shakily beside the bed, watching him sleep. It was strange to think that humans were so afraid of these creatures when they slept like toddlers.
One of his large hands moves to his cock and he scratches the base of it before putting it back on his chest, his hand searching for something in his sleep. When he didn't find it, he snorted and muttered something.
"Time to go," I squeak as I rush to the door. I didn't even care that I was barefoot as I raced out of the room and down the stairs, out through the common area and into the muddy street. I don't stop until I'm back at Mable's, pressing my back into the kitchen door and breathing in relief.
"That better be mud on your feet." My eyes snap up to find Mable herself, arms crossed and a wooden spoon in one hand. "Because if you've just tracked shit into my kitchen you little urchin, I'm going to beat you with this spoon so badly that your mother.. won't.." she trails off as realization fills her eyes. "Fiona?"
I give her a strained grin, "hey Mable."
"What.. is this?" She asks in pure confusion. "I told you to go out and have fun not play with the pigs. Why are you covered in, what is hopefully, mud?"
"Couldn't find my boots," I tells her sadly.
"And do tell why you were out of your boots, young man?" She asks sternly. "And why you are getting back after dawn when there are chores to be done."
I wasn't surprised that Mable called me a man. I'd suspected that she'd figured it out long ago but hadn't had the balls to outright ask her.
"I don't know," I admit. "Last thing I remember was following this woman into an alley, not like that," I add hastily when I see Mable's face. "And the next thing I know I'm waking up in a room on the chest of a large orc."
Mable gasps and is across the room in an instant, her hands cupping my face, "did he hurt you? Did he..?"
"No! Nothing like that," I assure her. "I don't think he did anything except cuddle me all night. Which was weird but kind of nice? I don't know! I'm just glad to be home."
Mable stares at me for a long moment, her eyebrows scrunched as she studies my face before she finally sighs, "I believe you. But if he had hurt you I'd string him up in the pantry and make sausages out of him."
"He's already got one," I joke. "His damn morning wood looked like a whole other leg."
Her hand pats my cheek gently, "cheeky bugger. Go get cleaned up and get to work. I'll save you a plate."
"Yes ma'am," I tell her before making my way to the stairs. Before going up them, I turn and look at her, "Mable?"
"Yeah?" She asks without turning from the stove.
"Thank you."
Her head moves slightly in my direction and I can see the faintest of smiles, "no problem kid."