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1.
"You can't stay under there forever you know."
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2.
>You clumsily attempt to fish out the cowardly pony that has taken shelter underneath your bed.
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"Come ON you freak."
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>It's New Year's Eve and Fluttershy had nervously invited herself over to your house on the pretense that "no one should be alone at this time of year."
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>Technically Pinkie Pie had invited you to one of her parties but after the last one where she drank too much cider and kept asking you to "strangle her as a joke", you declined.
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>Pinkie's party was looking considerably more attractive after learning about Fluttershy's fear of fireworks.
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>After just the first bottle rocket, Fluttershy beelined it for the safety of the underside of your bed and has yet to remove herself.
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>"I-I'm only coming out i-if you promise to h-hold me until it's over..."
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"Fat fucking chance you scaredy cat, now MOVE."
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>"B-but Anon, it c-could be dangero— eep!"
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>Another firework popping nearby silences her excuse and you can hear her rustle further underneath the bed.
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"Okay listen shithead, I'm done being nice. It's been ten fucking minutes already. Get your ass out from under there or I'm getting the broom."
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>Proud of your verbal handiwork, you wait with crossed arms at the foot of your bed.
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>You've yet to have a swear-laden angry outburst not get her butt into gear.
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>A minute passes with the only movement being a soft shaking from the bedframe.
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"Alright then cunt, don't say I didn't warn you."
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>You retrieve your broom from the closet and adopt a prone stance to better aim it under the bed.
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"It's go-time pony. Get read— oh."
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>From your position you get a clear view of Fluttershy silently sobbing and heaving into her hooves, her mane a mess and her eyes streaming tears.
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>On noticing that you weren't joking about the broom, her round, pleading eyes lock with yours.
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>Her sobs get louder, each snivel shaking your bed with increased intensity.
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>Great. Now you've really done it.
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>wait
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>Oh shit.
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>It all clicks: it wasn't you who she was worried about being alone.
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>shitshitshit, now you're the ass
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>Tossing aside the broom, you address the whimpering pony with a quieter, softer tone.
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"Shy, c'mon, I didn't know."
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>She just stares at you with her big wet eyes, punctuating each firecracker in the distance with a sharper twitch and sob.
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"Hey listen, how about I hold you just for a little while huh? Would that help?"
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>"..."
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>"r-really?" her shaking, choked voice whispers from the depths of your bed.
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"Yeah, no jokes or tricks. I hold you for a bit and then you go home. Sound good?"
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>She silently regards you for a minute, hiccupping slightly while her tears freely fall into the quickly forming puddle beneath her.
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>"okay..."
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>At a snails pace, she carefully crawls her way out, stopping briefly at the sound of each firework.
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>As soon as her head clears the underside of the bed, she bolts for your lap, locking her arms around your midsection.
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>Burying her head into your chest, your shirt dampens and you can feel her short ragged breaths against your frame.
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>Not having had a pony this scared be this physical with you before, you awkwardly support her flank with one arm and her back with the other, then stand up.
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>You tote both of yourselves over to the bed and lay down gently.
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>Each firecracker in the distance sends a spasm through her body and causes her to clench harder around your torso.
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>Wanting to speed this up but not to go overboard, you clumsily stroke her mane and flank, using as little surface area of your hand as you can.
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>You just sit there, patting her as her tears dry up and her shakes slowly die down.
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>It takes some time but eventually her uneven gasps become slow, steady breaths.
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>Deciding now is a better time than ever, you break the silence.
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"Feeling better?"
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>You take her lack of response as confirmation that she finally went to sleep.
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>With her asleep you could...
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>Nah.
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>You pull her in closer and decide to wait a little longer.
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>The sound of fireworks having long since petered out, you decide it's finally time for Fluttershy to get to her own bed.
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"Alright butterbutt, let's get you home." you nudge her a flank little.
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>Still no response. Dang, she's really out.
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>You carefully place your hands in the crook of her armpits and attempt to lift her off you.
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>Immediately you're met with resistance as her arms clasp firmly around you.
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>Her eyes crack open and pleadingly stare into yours.
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>"p-please? ..just for tonight.."
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>You humph and give her a stern glare.
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"Fine. But no funny business."
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>She smiles and buries her head back into your chest, inhaling a little too deeply for you to be comfortable with.
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>Grimacing, you scoot backwards and throw the bed covers over the both of you.
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>Ensuring you're both tucked in proper, you resign your head to your pillow and close your eyes, only faintly able to hear the whisper from the pony next to you.
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64.
>"t-thank you"
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