[FLUTTERRAPE] Drunken Shy


                                            Originally uploaded to Pastebin: November 8th, 2016

                                            ---


                                            Written in response to a picture an Anon posted of a drunken Fluttershy talking mad shit and trying to start fights.


                                            ---


                                            "Does this often happen?"

                                            >"YOU P-PANSIES WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT A... a... uh--YEAH EVEN IF IT HIT YOU IN THE FACE!"

                                            >Applejack finishes her drink and adds it to the pile of empty mugs beside her.

                                            >"Eyup. She'll have a small sip of water laced with lemon or somethin' then it's off to the races. Usually she'll start a fight with a stallion six times her size, hit him once, then start crying."

                                            >She yawns and stretches, several joints cracking.

                                            >"Happens every Saturday."

                                            >"YOU WANNA GO YOU... YOU NINCOMPOOP?!"

                                            >You watch in silent awe as the tiny yellow mare struts up to a stallion so large he's struggling to get through the door.

                                            >He grunts in distress as his huge shoulders get crammed in the wooden door-frame, preventing him from getting any further.

                                            >The bartender nearby throws his towel to one side in frustration, leaning over the counter to yell at the gargantuan white pegasus.

                                            >"Gad dammit Bulk, ya know you can't use doorways, ya freak!"

                                            >Bulk hangs his head in shame, muttering a 'Yeah' that sounds more like a kitten's mewl.

                                            >Fluttershy, undeterred by the hulk before her, struts on up and starts berating him.

                                            >"YOU LOOK LIKE A SNOWPONY I MADE WHEN I WAS A FILLY!"

                                            "Ouch."

                                            >Applejack grunts in response as she accepts another beer from the bartender.

                                            >"Yeah, her insults can get pretty intense. She called someone a ninny once."

                                            >The farmer shakes her head.

                                            >"Grizzly night, that one; lotta hurt feelings and therapy."

                                            >Fluttershy pulls back a hoof, taking her time to build up what meagre strength she has.

                                            >AJ raises an eyebrow.

                                            >"Oh, here we go."

                                            >As foretold, Fluttershy punches Bulk.

                                            >With a loud 'pop', the wall of muscle suddenly bursts free from his wooden prison.

                                            >He blinks a few times, then smiles at Fluttershy.

                                            >"Thanks, miss! Now I can pretend I'm normal again!"

                                            >The stallion prances off further into the bar.

                                            >Fluttershy watches him go.

                                            >Then starts crying.


                                            >"H-heee, auwaaaaghhhh!"

                                            >Another in a series of strange, garbled wails erupts from Fluttershy.

                                            >You pat her on the back, consoling her, though what for you're not sure.

                                            >Applejack is too jaded to care, and keeps drinking.

                                            >"Y'know, this is it now."

                                            "What's that mean?"

                                            >"This is it. This is your evenin'. Fluttershy's a lightweight, she's gonna keep sobbin' for the next few hours, so if you wanna bail I'll look after her."

                                            >You frown.

                                            "That's not really fair on you, AJ."

                                            >She shrugs.

                                            >"I'm used to it. Every Saturday, remember?"

                                            "Yeah but..."

                                            >You glance at Fluttershy, who's using her mane to wipe her tears away.

                                            "...Hey, AJ."

                                            >"Mm?"

                                            "How about I take her home?"

                                            >Applejack cocks her head.

                                            >"Take her home? Ya'll sure about that?"

                                            "Sure. It'll give you some peace, instead of looking after her for another evening."

                                            >Applejack stares at you.

                                            >Then slowly smiles.

                                            >"That's real kinda you, Anon."

                                            >She grins.

                                            >"Good luck."

                                            "Relax, this is for you, not her."

                                            >She shrugs, still smiling.

                                            >"If you say so."


                                            "God damn you're like a beanbag."

                                            >Fluttershy doesn't want to cooperate.

                                            >You half-carry, half-drag her along the moonlit, dusty back-roads towards her house.

                                            >She cries the entire time, sometimes having moments of lucidity to comment on a nearby owl or bat that glides by.

                                            >Then goes right back to sobbing.

                                            >Eventually you manage to grip her in a way where she can't escape.

                                            >With one hand firmly under her rump and another holding her back, she rests against your chest, her head under your chin.

                                            >Blubbering.

                                            "Nearly there, Shy."

                                            >"Bwuh."

                                            "Mm."

                                            >You shiver from the cold of the night, the mare in your arms like a dead-weight.

                                            >A part of you regrets doing this.

                                            >What would Applejack be getting up to now, you wonder.


                                            "Applejack you've had enough."

                                            >Applejack burps, then regards the hundred-something mass of drained mugs beside her with a bored expression.

                                            >"Nah."


                                            >You reach Fluttershy's cottage at last.

                                            >Fumbling for a moment, you crouch down, still clutching Fluttershy, and dig the key from under her welcome mat.

                                            >A quick fiddle with the lock results in the door swinging open.

                                            "There we are, home sweet home."

                                            >Fluttershy sniffs.

                                            >"Th-thank you..."

                                            "So you do this every Saturday, huh?"

                                            >"No. This is the first time someone's taken me home."

                                            >She gives you a drunken, coy smile.

                                            >You ignore it and carry her inside.

                                            >Ascending the stairs, you nudge her bedroom door open with a foot, proceeding inside and approaching the side of her immaculately-made bed.

                                            "You fine if I drop you here?"

                                            >"Mhm, just--"

                                            >You drop her.

                                            >She bounces once and sails off the other side of the bed.

                                            >A loud crunch signals her hitting the hardwood floor.

                                            >...

                                            >You stare in shock for a second, trying to process how that happened.

                                            >Then the loud, drawn-out wailing begins again.


                                            "I'm sorry Shy, I'm so sorry, I said I'm sorry!"

                                            >You sit on the bed, Fluttershy tucked up under the covers with an ice-pack on her head.

                                            >She's currently calling you every name under the sun.

                                            >Like 'meanie'.

                                            >And 'meanie' again.

                                            >You tend to the shockingly large bruise on her forehead.

                                            >The headache she's gonna have when she wakes up tomorrow will be legendary.

                                            >Tentatively dabbing the bruise with a wet cloth, the mare winces.

                                            >"It hurts..."

                                            "Yeah, no kidding, it looks like you got hit with a fucking shovel."

                                            >Fluttershy winces as you touch her again.

                                            >"You did this."

                                            "I get it, no need to keep harping on about it."

                                            >She glares at you.

                                            >"All I wanted was a nice night out with my friends and you had to go and ruin it..."

                                            "I'm still struggling to comprehend how or why only you and Applejack going to the bar on weekends is 'a nice night out', but alright."

                                            >"We normally have fun! But you just had to tag along and ruin it..."

                                            "You were starting fights, Fluttershy."

                                            >"They're not fights. They're aggressive misunderstandings."

                                            >Rolling your eyes, you pull your hand away from her face, the cloth gripped in your fingers.

                                            >A huge black bruise is now present on Fluttershy's forehead.

                                            >It looks terrible.

                                            >Fluttershy probably knows that too by the way you're sucking air through your teeth and making the most dramatic face possible.

                                            >"You'd better make this up to me, mister. I'm very upset with you!"

                                            "Alright, shit, sorry, -again-."

                                            >She scowls.

                                            >Then develops a small, cheeky grin.

                                            >"K-kiss it better."

                                            "Oh come on."

                                            >"Kiss it better!"

                                            "What are you, five? Just sleep on it, I'll get you another drink if you'd like."

                                            >"Do it or I'll tell everyone you threw me on the floor after taking advantage of me whilst drunk."

                                            "They won't buy that, I'm gay."

                                            >"No you're not, you have playmare under your bed. Seven monthly editions and the swimsuit special."

                                            "Fuck, well that--"

                                            >You do a double-take and give her a strange look.

                                            >She smiles innocently.

                                            "...Well that's just peachy."

                                            >"Come on, Anon, pleease?"

                                            "I don't like you when you're drunk. Or concussed. Whichever this is."

                                            >"Likely both. There's two of you right now."

                                            "Jesus."

                                            >"Now pucker up, mister."

                                            >Give out an exasperated sigh and lean forwards.

                                            >Plant a firm, loveless kiss on her forehead and pull back, an annoyed expression on your face.

                                            >"Mm, that was okay."

                                            "Oh, sorry, would you like more tongue, your highness?"

                                            >Fluttershy stares at you.

                                            >Then gives you a toothy smile.


                                            >"O-oh, oh my, that was, um, r-really lovely~."

                                            >You wipe your mouth.

                                            >It tastes like lemons and horse drool now.

                                            >Fluttershy giggles and nestles deeper into her pillows, pulling the covers up slightly.

                                            >Her face is adorned with a deep blush.

                                            >"So, what now?"

                                            "Hell do you mean 'what now'. Now I go to sleep on your sofa and leave early tomorrow, this isn't going any further, Fluttershy."

                                            >"Aww, come on, what about fooling around a bit? I'm drunk, you're drunk--"

                                            "I'm sober. You might have brain damage."

                                            >"--And there's no one that can disturb us..."

                                            >She bats her eyelids and chews her bottom lip.

                                            >"Aaaanooon~"

                                            "What."

                                            >"I'm feeling really naughty..."

                                            >You rub your eyes and squint at her alarm clock.

                                            >11:02

                                            >Applejack must be having the time of her life right now.


                                            >"Waddya mean 'all out'?"

                                            "You've literally drained every keg we have. Go home, Applejack."

                                            >"Nah."


                                            >"Come ooon, I never got to do this stuff as a filly..."

                                            "You've never messed around with someone whilst drunk?"

                                            >She shakes her head.

                                            >"That was always Rainbow Dash. I didn't, um, go to parties."

                                            "Really? That's totally shocking and not at all expected of you."

                                            >She frowns.

                                            >"I might not be an animal at parties..."

                                            >"...But I -am- an animal in bed."

                                            >...

                                            "Fluttershy you literally stole that from the rom-com we saw at the movies the other week. It wasn't a good line then, and it's not a good line now."

                                            >"Horseapples."

                                            "Just go to sleep, alright? I'm gonna be downstairs."

                                            >You stand up and head for the door.

                                            >Fluttershy whines desperately behind you.

                                            >"I-I'll tell everyone you raped me!"

                                            >As soon as she says it, she squeaks.

                                            >You slowly turn to face her again, your face a picture of shock.

                                            >She's pulled the covers over her face, her eyes peering out over the top at you.

                                            >Even she can't believe what she just said, but going off your stunned reaction she knows it worked.

                                            >Gingerly, she pulls the covers down, a nervous smile on her lips.

                                            >"I'll, um, tell everyone you raped me."

                                            >The next few moments are a stare-down between you and a mildly concussed possibly virginal pegasus.

                                            >...

                                            "Bullshit you will, go to sleep."

                                            >Slam the door.

                                            >Hear a muffled "Ponyfeathers!" from the other side.

                                            >You trudge downstairs and lie on her sofa, your legs dangling off the end.

                                            >All you wanted was to do something nice for Applejack.

                                            >She owes you big time for this.

                                            >As you stare at the ceiling, you hear the bed upstairs squeak.

                                            >Then the sound of hooves crossing the floor.

                                            >Followed by a door creaking open.

                                            >Hooves on the stairs.

                                            >And a small voice calling out into the dark.

                                            >"Anon? Are you asleep yet?"

                                            "No."

                                            >"O-oh. Sorry."

                                            >...

                                            >...

                                            "I'm still not asleep, Fluttershy."

                                            >"Sorry."

                                            "Go back to bed."

                                            >"Right, sorry."

                                            >...

                                            "I know you're still there."

                                            >"Please can we try kissing again?"

                                            "Shit like this is why you're single. Also take a breath-mint before kissing someone next time, your mouth tastes gross."

                                            >"O-oh, um, sorry."

                                            >Rapid hoofsteps up the stairs herald her departure.

                                            >Shortly after the voice calls out again.

                                            >"Sho cam we try kishing agun?"

                                            "Are you chewing gum?"

                                            >"...Mo."

                                            "Yes you are, I can smell it from here, Jesus did you eat an entire packet?"

                                            >"...Yeff."

                                            "I'm only sleeping down here to make sure you don't do anything dumb, Fluttershy. If you're gonna act like a dork then I'm going home."

                                            >"P-please don't go."

                                            "Then go to sleep."

                                            >"...Sleep with you?"

                                            "Sleep alone."

                                            >"Sleep alone with you?"

                                            "I'm never going out drinking with you again, I swear to god."

                                            >"Right, right, sorry."

                                            >Hoofsteps running upstairs signal her leaving again.

                                            >You fold your arms against your chest and push yourself into the cushions some more, trying to get comfortable.

                                            >Eventually, you find yourself drifting off to a pleasant sleep...


                                            >...Your eyes snap open.

                                            >Fluttershy is leaning over you, her eyes wide with shock.

                                            >Her mouth is hanging open.

                                            >You can still see a bit of gum in there.

                                            >Looking down, you see that she's stretched awkwardly over your body, trying not to touch you.

                                            >She gulps nervously, eyes darting from side to side.

                                            >"This is. A dream?"

                                            "Dreams don't smell like peppermint."

                                            >You glare at Fluttershy.

                                            "Mind explaining what you're doing?"

                                            >"Oh, well, I asked you if you'd changed your mind about the whole kissing thing? Then you didn't respond so I asked again and when you still didn't answer I took that as a yes so..."

                                            >She gulps, swallowing her gum.

                                            >Then wets her lips with a hasty tongue movement.

                                            >"...Wanna try kissing again?"

                                            >For a brief, terrible moment, you consider doing just that.

                                            >Giving her what she wants so that she'll leave you alone.

                                            >But you feel like doing that at this point would be encouraging this to happen.

                                            >If you keep giving her what she wants, she'll start pestering you for more.

                                            >Might even start chasing you around or knocking on your door when you're trying to eat breakfast in a morning.

                                            >You shudder at the thought of such a woeful horror.

                                            >Fluttershy takes your silent contemplation as an excuse to mash her mouth against yours.

                                            >Peppermint.

                                            >Lots of peppermint. And horse spit.

                                            >Fluttershy's inexperienced mouth attempts to tango with yours.

                                            >Yours stays completely rigid, refusing to move or open for anything.

                                            >Eventually she gives up doing that, sucks on your top lip for a while, then licks your face.

                                            >Just a huge lick. Right from the chin to the space between your eyes.

                                            >She pulls back, panting, and giddy.

                                            >"H-how was that? Pretty good, right?"

                                            >You stare at her, your face going sticky from pony slobber.

                                            "That was absolutely horrendous. Never do it again, nor tell our friends that you did it."

                                            >Sit up abruptly, grabbing the mare as you do so.

                                            >Place her on the floor and nudge her away with your leg, then rise to your feet.

                                            >She stands awkwardly pawing at the carpet with a hoof as you check yourself over in the darkness.

                                            >The mare tries to speak a few times, but gives up.

                                            >You walk to the door and open it, the moonlight flooding in.

                                            >A final look at Fluttershy, and she watches in return.

                                            >The tiny yellow mare avoids direct eye contact, and still says nothing.

                                            >With that, you step out and close the door behind you, leaving Fluttershy on her own.

                                            >You tried to do something nice, and this is how it turned out.

                                            >Well, at least one thing is for certain.

                                            >Thank god it's over.


                                            >...


                                            >Knock knock knock.

                                            >You lumber to the door, scratching your stubble.

                                            >Never usually get visitors this early in the morning.

                                            >Pull open the door and look down.

                                            >"H-hi. So um, the other night was really weird and I'm sorry, but I was just um, wondering if maybe you wanted to try kissing some more?"

                                            >You stare at Fluttershy in bewilderment.

                                            >"I-I brought peppermint if that's a turn-on?"


                                            The End.