>>42396843
>You awoke to the sound of a crow outside.
>With a tired sigh, you opened your eyes and glanced over to the balcony door.
>The balcony itself was buried under two feet of snow, and perched on the railing was a single crow.
>You immediately recognized it as the same crow that used to haggle outside your bedroom window every morning. He had a slightly disfigured right foot that looked as if it crumpled in on itself.
>With a final CAW!—it flew away.
>The sun was only just now rising over Canterlot; the reflective light blinded you and forced your head back down to the floor.
>And as you laid there, the rest of your sensations came back.
>Just in time to feel a warm mass huddled next to you.
>You looked down to see Scootaloo, asleep in one arm, cooing and muttering under her breath as she snored.
>A single hand rested on your chest—and that's when you realized your pants were down, to your knees.
>The smell of dried cum lingered in the air.
>And in an instant, the memories of last night flooded back into your mind.
>At first, you panicked—anyone would.
>Why did you do that?
>Why did she do that?
>Why did you -let- her do that?!
>But very quickly, you realized panicking wasn't gonna change it. All it would do is make it worse.
>You took deep breaths and counted each one. It didn't help all the way, but it was a good start.
>You looked around the room from your spot on the floor, trying to find a box of tissues or paper towels, something to wash off the traces of semen from your abdomen and thighs.
>That's when you spotted the balled up wads of tissues over by the TV stand.
>Did Scootaloo... clean you? Or try, at the very least?
>You can still somewhat feel the leftover stickiness, but it's nowhere near as abundant as it was before you fell asleep.
>As much as you didn't want to move... you really wanted to clean up.
>You slid out from beneath Scootaloo and pulled up your pants, before scooping her up and laying her down on the couch.
>Grabbing some tissues, you wet them lightly with a bottle of water and begin cleaning at your stomach and thighs. Once you were clean enough, you took the used tissues and stuffed them in a plastic bag.
>After that... you spent the next few minutes sitting on the floor in front of the couch.
>Scootaloo was gonna wake up soon.
>How was she gonna react?
>Would she even remember?
>Where would you even begin?
>... Maybe over breakfast.