Work Text:
Shadow stares at her phone, waiting for the words to rearrange themselves so the message makes sense.
No matter how many times she rotates the screen and squints, an appointment stares back at her.
“What the fuck,” is the only thing Shadow manages to mutter, disbelief coloring her tone. In all of the years they’ve been together, she has never known Sonic to plan anything.
That wasn’t to say he didn’t take initiative—Sonic is a creature of impulse, prone to sweeping her off her feet at inopportune times to perform romantic gestures. A picnic in the park sounds like Amy’s idea of a good time and that’s exactly what Shadow texts him as soon as she gathers her wits.
>> is it illegal for a guy to do something nice for his girlfriend all of the sudden?
<< Coming from you, the invitation is suspect.
>> lol, whatever. you in or not?
<< Of course I’ll be there, you imbecile.
>> love you too, hot stuff. see ya soon ♡
Immediately, Shadow cycles through possibilities. The calendar date isn’t special, smack dab in the middle of their anniversary and their birthdays. The forecast promises sunny skies and unseasonably warm temperatures; it’s as if the world itself has bent itself to Sonic’s whims.
College is pleasant, if boring. Sonic knew he wasn’t going to go long before graduation rolled around, which is why they spent as much time together as possible. They have every intention of moving in together, but freelance work keeps Sonic busy in the city and Shadow can’t get downtown as easily as she likes, so they hang out on the weekends, browsing for apartments more often than not.
Recalling Sonic’s triumphs makes Shadow feel pathetic, focusing on his failures instead. She supposes he technically succeeded in asking her out, but the lead-up was embarrassing, especially for a guy who prided himself on playing things close to the chest.
It started off as a joke, Sonic lackadaisically insinuating that they should go out. “It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do,” he teased, toying with her quills, winking for added effect.
They might have been fifteen, but Sonic already had a reputation as a heartbreaker. The flings themselves were innocent, holding hands whilst posing for pictures, but the fact of the matter was that Sonic liked attention—lived for it, even—and Shadow didn’t trust him or any other teenage boy as far as she could throw them.
Speaking as the resident champion in junior judo, it was more than a simple turn of phrase.
Nevertheless, Sonic kept at it, pestering her until Shadow snapped. “Alright already,” she snarled, sick of Sonic invading her space.
One date turned into three, then five. Shadow was begrudgingly forced to admit that she rather liked Sonic’s company and she was even more fond of his kisses, growing wetter every time. She blushed from her ears to her hindpaws the first time Sonic inched a paw up her skirt, necking at her with Shadow in his lap.
Here they are four-and-some-odd-years later going strong. At this point, Shadow can’t imagine being with anyone else, settled into a rhythm that feels comfortable. Sonic is sweet in his simpering way, confident verging on cocky. His affection runs deep. Shadow shivers thinking about the last time Sonic put his tongue on her, effortlessly bringing her to tears.
She tamps down her excitement in the interest of keeping her cool, remaining huffy and standoffish to outsiders.
Wouldn’t want anyone to get ideas.
Time has helped Sonic settle into his frame, more sturdy than gangly at age twenty. A healthy amount of hours clocked on various trails didn’t hurt—his fur is a darker shade of blue thanks to all the sunshine, thighs thicker than ever. Right this minute, Sonic’s jeans are hiding the goods, but Shadow knows how this day is going to end.
Shadow scowls at the spread of food. “Sandwiches? Salad? Who are you and what the hell have you done with Sonic?”
Sonic pats the empty space beside him on the blanket. Shadow takes a seat, but not without fussing with her quills, making sure to jab her snout in the air to ensure that Sonic knows she’s doing him a favor, gracing him with her presence.
“Believe it or not, I do listen sometimes,” Sonic drawls, planting a kiss on her damnably warm muzzle. He knows what sort of effect he has on her, resting a paw on her hip and leaning closer, basking in the flush creeping up Shadow’s neckline into the palest patches of her fur. Shadow’s sundress does nothing to hide her pear shape nor the tuft Sonic adores, eying it like he’s thinking about burying his face between her breasts. “Figured you would appreciate something light for lunch.”
She elbows Sonic in the gut when his claws drift too far north, keeping him in line as she nibbles. It’s difficult to swallow when Sonic refuses to look away, chattering absently, clearly distracted.
Shadow is about to ask him what’s wrong when Sonic abruptly begs off, muttering that he’s going to the restroom. She snatches his wrist before he can run away, glaring daggers. “You’re going to jerk off when I’m right here?”
Sonic’s gaze sweeps over the park, examining the various creatures milling about. It’s Friday, so it’s not as busy as it could be, but all the same. “D’you really wanna deal with this in the open?”
Flustered, Shadow lets go. Intrigued, Sonic stalls, lips curling into a sly smirk. Her kinks are numerous, all of them hidden beneath the surface. This is part of the fun, toeing the line to see what his seemingly vanilla girlfriend will let him get away with.
“I mean, I’ll let you.” He runs a paw over her back spines, stroking each one individually until Shadow bares her fangs. “Your skirt is long enough to hide everything. I brought an extra blanket, too. Whaddaya say?”
“You’re out of your fucking mind.”
“I’m not hearing a no.”
Risky bastard, Shadow thinks, biting her bottom lip so hard it bleeds. It’s difficult to focus with Sonic sucking at her nape and fondling her tits, feeling for her nipples through the fabric. She didn’t bother with a bra, knowing good and damn well it would be a waste of time. The top-half was padded and the straps tied high, leaving her questionably decent.
The decency is going down the toilet, though—Sonic is determined to make a mess. Forced to keep quiet, Shadow hisses under her breath, twitching when she hears Sonic lick his digits. He worms his way inside mindlessly, trilling as Shadow sucks him in. “You’re so tight, baby. Didn’t use your vibrator this week?”
“Why would I,” Shadow gripes, aiming for condescending and missing by a mile.
Sonic laughs. “Saving yourself for me? How cute.”
The minute Shadow plops on his dick, meeting him head-on, she nips at him. Sonic revels in blended pain and pleasure, Shadow’s cunt clamped around him so tightly he briefly goes cross-eyed.
Like this, Sonic’s words sink into her, resonant. “Remember what a shy little virgin you used to be? Look at you now, taking me in front of god and everyone.” Sonic squeezes her hips before he lifts her, hypnotized by Shadow’s sweaty brow and jiggling assets. He mouths at the left side of her chest until a damp spot forms, earning a scratch for his efforts. “What? I’m just narrating the experience. It’s making you wet, isn’t it? Marking your territory.”
It is, she’s sopping, but Shadow refuses to give Sonic the satisfaction of verbal confirmation. He has to settle for muted gasps and cooperative thrusts, her ankles settled at the small of Sonic’s back. She can feel Sonic’s tail wagging, feel the tension of orgasm cresting before he blows his wad, point-blank panting as he pulls out, ejaculating into a handkerchief taken from god knows which one of his pockets.
“I was wondering where that went,” Shadow mutters, drinking in the no-nonsense pattern and black lace trimmings.
Sonic laughs. “You said I could keep it.”
Indeed Shadow did.
Satiated in multiple senses, she closes her eyes, enjoying the weather. She’s vaguely aware of Sonic curled around her and the breeze rolling by, but she doesn’t realize she’s fallen asleep until she wakes up with a yawn, stretching slowly.
A glint catches her eye. “You bitch,” Shadow curses, fists furling as she takes in Sonic’s unapologetic mug, snoring away without a care in the world. She kicks Sonic hard enough to startle, tears on her lashes. “I knew you were up to something, I knew it.”
“Surprise,” Sonic sing-songs, expression soft.
Shadow bangs at his chest without intent to harm, allowing Sonic to hug her until the sobs taper off. He cleans up in silence, waiting for Shadow to stop sniffling, leading her to a hotel where he conveniently booked a room.
He’s not expecting a reply, honestly. Neither of them are good at expressing themselves without feeling like they’re being flayed alive, arriving at a place of understanding by making adjustments until they matched strides.
Peeling her out of the dress is easy, exposing dark, glossy fur with a smile. Sonic strips in high spirits, petting Shadow while she stares at the ring.
Grinding is an unconscious motion, for himself more than anything. If Shadow asks him to stop, Sonic will, but she’s rosy herself, grinding back, louder now that they’re behind closed doors.
Cock unfurling, Sonic rolls over to grab a condom. Shadow stops him. “Don’t bother.”
He chuckles. “What happened to your concerns about being a statistic?”
“I’m not a teenager anymore, am I?” Shadow quips, dragging him down for a kiss.
“You said you wanted to focus on further education,” Sonic taunts, pausing between long, languid sucks and puffy, bitten lips to get a word in edgewise.
“I’ll make it work,” she snaps, crushing their hips together.
It’s no secret that Sonic wants kids. He loses himself in his dirty talk more often than not, rambling on and on about knocking her up. Daydreaming about her already-obnoxious tits swelling with milk, sucking her dry, pinching her clit and spanking it whilst drooling like a dog, animalistic to the core.
More than allowing it, Shadow likes it. Sonic’s grubby paws all over her, sucking bruises into her abdomen. In middle school, boys teased Shadow about her shape, but she has since come to take pride in it, reveling in Sonic’s stares.
Would he be better or worse if she actually got pregnant? Hard to say. Sonic is such a horndog, Shadow has high hopes.
Right this minute, the what-ifs don’t matter. What matters is that Sonic dives in without fanfare, scissoring her before dragging himself to her navel, salivating excessively. He’s eager, obviously, and it makes Shadow eager too, weaving her claws into his quills as he arrives at the treasure trove.
Luscious to the point of sagging, Sonic goads Shadow into pushing her breasts together, kneeling overhead to slide his cock into the free space. He doesn’t stay there for long—he wouldn’t last—but it’s gratifying to watch his face contort, sweat beading across his forehead.
“Pathetic,” she says, crimson eyes curved into crescents.
Shadow’s smugness melts away when Sonic starts thrusting, rough as a form of retaliation. “Pathetic,” Sonic retorts, sticking out his tongue, giggling when she punches him.
Neither of them are able to remain calm once they get into the thick of it, rocking the mattress. Sonic presses in deep, lurid and lewd without the barrier of a condom.
She scratches and howls, sticky with Sonic’s fluids as he cums inside. Afternoon fades into evening, trading positions until they’re sick of it, ring glinting in the lamplight.
Apparently, Sonic couldn’t envision himself with anyone else either.
It’s good to have confirmation.
epilogue
The nice thing about living in the suburbs is that there’s plenty of space to park her motorcycle, but it’s a moot point for the next nine months—the hazards of sustaining life and all that.
Cooking is a chore Sonic enjoys, meal prepping with his fangs flashing like the smarmy shithead he is. It’s fine. Shadow has plenty to do, studying between all of her appointments, determined to deliver a healthy baby.
Sonic usually shops on his own, but he coerces Shadow into joining him with the promise of a soak in the tub and a massage afterwards. Shadow jabs a claw into Sonic’s chest, sniffing out his intentions from a mile away. In response, Sonic holds up his paws, eyes half-lidded. “Are you complaining?”
She growls but does not decline, arms folded in a blouse that makes her feel ridiculous.
He wanders away at some point, distracted by snacks. Shadow is busy inspecting nutrition information on a box when someone taps her on the shoulder, ostensibly making polite conversation.
The stranger squirms in a way that indicates that they know each other, but Shadow has always been terrible with faces and worse with names. “Sure, whatever,” is what she ends up saying, impatiently waiting for Sonic to return.
Annoyance becomes irritation at high speed when she realizes Corey or Casey or whatever his name is is trying to hit on her. Seriously? Shadow thinks, eyes flitting to her baby bump, unmistakable in her circus tent of a skirt.
At last, cobalt fur fills her vision. Sonic not only grips her possessively, but leans in with the smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, intimidating in the extreme. “Did you need something from my wife?”
What’s-His-Face stammers an apology as he scampers off, out of earshot by the time Sonic huffs.
For her part, Shadow looks forward to the rest of the evening.
…And if they spend a little extra time in the bathroom, well, that’s no one else’s business.
