>>10449866Alright, I submit for your consideration: Lovey-Dovey Sex with a Stoned Fox.
You jolt awake in bed, the mocking glow of your alarm clock staring back at you. It's 4:30 AM on a Tuesday. It doesn't get much worse than this. Ever since you've started working rotating shifts, your sleep quality has been pretty terrible. Rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes, you roll over and blindly grope at the bed next to you. You hope to grab a handful of fluffy tail, but find only the cool sheets. Between your schedule, her weird sleep patterns, and her rekindled passion for streaming, you haven't been able to spend a lot of time with Kana lately. You've protested, of course, but your complaints are usually met with some smug variation of "I'm a Twitch partner now. I'm super busy planning streams. Why don't YOU try getting a decent job, stupid!" Bullshit, she's probably out there watching shitty meme videos again. Considering you've got to return to work in a few hours, there's no point in trying to go back to sleep now. You shamble out of the bedroom and make your way towards the kitchen, and the massive amounts of caffeine needed to sustain your nightmare existence.
Stumbling down the hall, you head into the living room. It's dark, save for the soft blue light emanating from Kana's little command center. Her big executive chair, the third she's tried in as many weeks, eclipses most of her tiny body. You can only make out the silhouette of two spindly legs hanging off the ground, and a pair of fuzzy ears just barely peeking over the back. Spotify is faintly humming some milennial pop rock nonsense. Blink-182 or Maroon 5, maybe? Fuck if you can tell. God knows you don't love this dumb fox for her musical taste. As you make your way closer, your earlier suspicions are confirmed. On one monitor is a playlist of "dAnK mEmEs tO cUrE uR DePrEsSiOn!", and on another, Cookie Clicker obnoxiously chugging away. You roll your eyes as you creep up behind her. Flopping over the back of the chair, you wrap the petite fox girl in a surprise hug from behind. "Good morning, stinky", you say, planting a kiss at the base of her ridiculous little ahoge. A mumbly "Nnnh" is the only response you get. You release your bear hug on the delicate girl and spin her around to face you. She's in quite a state; her headphones rest lopsidedly around her slender neck, and she's barely dressed. Well, less dressed than usual, anyway. Her favorite sweatshirt lies discarded in a heap on the ground, and her pink, slightly stained panties dangle precariously around one of her ankles. Only her camisole remains, suspended by a single strap, and failing to conceal anything. Kana's stockings are nowhere to be seen. The little fox slouches loosely in her chair, eyes closed peacefully.
After appreciating the sight in front of you for a few seconds, you snap out of your mesmerized gaze. Kana's certainly a lazy slob, as evidenced by the half dozen Pepsi cans and the crumbs littering her desk, but it's not typical of her to pass out in her chair like this. You give the small girl a few gentle shakes, but don't get much more of a reply from her than some slurred giggles. Her normally pale skin is flushed a rosy red, and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You can see a few slightly raw areas where she must've been scratching at it pretty hard. Next to her keyboard lies a prescription bottle, its contents spread across the desk. OXYCODONE HYDROCHLORIDE, USP 10mg / ACETAMINOPHEN, USP 325mg. Little white oval pills shimmer in the flashing lights of her dumb RGB keyboard. The scene laid out before you starts to make sense. Her back must've been acting up again. You'd warned her to only take a half a pill, given her nearly pediatric body weight, but by your count the silly girl seems to have taken three, maybe four, whole ones. While you're sure she was in some serious pain, you suspect your bratty fox was also enjoying the warm and cozy side effects, at least until she felt overheated, started stripping, and passed out. With a sigh, you disentangle Kana from her headphones before scooping the lightweight vixen up princess-style and carting her off to the couch. Kana's not known for her strong stomach or amazing bladder control even when she's sober. No way you're risking your goddamn bed... again. The dimestore couch, however, you're willing to sacrifice.
