Lo Que Siento - C!Quackity x Reader

capítulo ocho - "truth hurts."

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The silky soft covers were enveloped over my body, the warm comfort of vanilla flooding my scenes as a bright light was stirring me out of my slumber, that and the burning headache I had. I forced my eyes open, it slightly burned from the intense brightness and sitting up hit me with the nauseous feeling of vertigo. I could feel something rising in my throat but I did my best to keep it down, I closed my eyes trying my best to keep it down and focus on my breathing... Reaching over to my nightstand... Wait... I reopened my eyes to check, that wasn't my... I wasn't in my bed, or my room... Wait where the hell was I? Panic slowly began to rise in my chest, now becoming fully aware as I had to double check why I was in a stranger's bed. Doing a general feel, I wasn't sore anywhere, no appearance of buses or clothing pieces missing... I was completely untouched, thank whatever god up there that allowed that to be. I couldn't remember a single thing from last night, did I get drunk? Must be, I can't believe how strong the alcohol is here... I take two shots and a drink with barely anything in it and in half hour I forget the rest of my night, I didn't know if it was because I hadn't drank in forever or it was just different. Likely to be a mix of both for sure, but I only vaguely remembered a couple things last night... Sneaking out, and Alex.

Holy fucking shit.

I was growing really worried now, I was what one would describe as a honest drunk you could put it. Maybe my thoughts of how attractive he was that night spilled out? I wondered with how fucking horny I was sober if I actually tried anything last night, would Alex even comply with it? Did he fuck me when I was vulnerable? A part of me kind of wished it to be true, but then what would even be the point if I couldn't remember..? No! Fuck, I shouldn't be like this, knowing him he probably did... Which made me kind of... Disappointed, just knowing my first time wouldn't be remembered... What struck me as interesting was that he chose to reclothe me and wasn't here. I second guessed the idea that anything did even happen, but it was Alex Maldonado we were taking about, the sex addict that... Ew, was this his bed I was laying in? A feeling of disgust bloomed in my chest, the mirror of the vanity capturing just how petrified I was in imagining what had happened right where I was sitting. That probably made me even sicker than the actual hangover I was experiencing. But just to my delight, or better yet horror, the devil himself still dressed in dress shirts and posh italian branded pants came in. And just as a little bonus, to tie the whole outfit together he wore fuzzy multi-colour socks and pink Levi house slippers. It made me giggle slightly and helped redirect the situation. "Morning Hermosa, sleep well?" He had a soft smile, a tray in his hands as I was surprised to see a gorgeous breakfast. This was throwing me off even more, had I woken up in a universe where he wasn't a womanizing man-whore? I was partially in shock to the act he was playing and I had to get to the bottom of my burning question before I could play along with the act. "Did we fuck last night...?" The pigment quickly rose to my cheeks, he winked and set the tray in my lap. "Did you have the absolute best night of your life? If you don't remember sleeping with me it didn't happen, you know I'm told all the time from girls I forget I even slept with that I was their best-..." "Okay! A simple no would've been fine." I let out a soft laugh, he was just sitting there with that silly smile staring me down with those dreamy eyes of his. "Why am I in your bed then?" "I couldn't have you sleep on the couch Hermosa, you're lucky I didn't have anyone over during the day yesterday, the sheets are completely new. I mean I'm no animal, I make sure my sheets get recycled and everything but I buy new ones constantly." I could exhale a soft sigh of relief at that I was thankfully not laying in the cloth stained of womanly and manly juices, knowing the mattress was most likely stained with it however made me shudder and overwhelmingly desire the need for a shower. "Where did you sleep then?" I questioned, not thinking he would forfeit his bed to a couch for me, he didn't care that much about me, did he? But I seemed to have been sorely mistaken when he grinned a proud smile, "the couch, dummy." I knew just how uncomfortable something like that could be, having previously been the guest in someone's house and having nowhere else to sleep but the couch; it wasn't fun. Well, maybe before we fell asleep when Tommy and I were building pillow forts in Wilbur's living room it was really fun... And when we started beating up George with pillows because he was texting his girlfriend, which mind you he always gushes about. We used to make fun of how he would say how amazing and funny she was, how she wrote songs and joked around with him, he never wanted us to talk with or meet with her; it was rather odd and we may have kind of dubbed her George's imaginary girlfriend because of it. She didn't sound to be toxic or anything, and George wasn't one who could usually keep a secret so we knew if he didn't spill it wasn't so, but he would always say he wanted to make sure she was the one before getting her involved in the friend group. It was always like he treated us like his own family and that he was our divorced mom, or well more accurately, MILF. George was our mother fucking milf and we loved him to death just as much as he loved us. To rewind back to my main point however, the morning after I was sore all over from the uncomfortable position of sleeping in one. Loved the night, hated the morning after... Though our favourite milf would make sure we had a good breakfast.