The vineyard was almost brisk in the weather of the early fall, the scent of the fruit was heavy in the air and the sky was clear. The weather couldn’t be more pleasant in this moment after a day of labor, keeping close eye on the grapes. It would almost be Time to clear the vines and go to market.
But not before Grape Jam had his way with a sample. The colt wasn't quite out of his school years yet, but he would be soon enough, and he would have his cutie mark before his graduation if it took a thousand failed or inadequate grape products.
The adolescent colt was a light purple, and his mane and tail had a smooth blue to them, his colors making him match the fruit in front of him well. White and red grapes made a semicircle in front of him as he looks over the group with focus, his neck turning as he changes face from one side of the spectrum to the other and back again. He had no idea of what to do with them yet, but he knew it had to be great.
His mother, Pearl, had set up the vineyard in such a way as to allow it to be used as a concert hall. This attracted ponies directly to them, thus allowing both the sell of admission and the freshest products they had. This started what became his family business’ defining trait: being a vertical monopoly. They sold the raw grapes, of course, but that was only the first step. They dried raisins, fermented wine, made vinegar from it, and of course, made sweet spreads.
Grape thought it would be obvious enough. It’s his name. Grape Jam. How could his special talent be anything but making grape jam? Or grape marmalade. Or grape jelly. Or grape butter.
For something so obvious it sure wasn’t working. No pony ever told him what he made wasn’t good, or even great, but it wasn’t enough to make that mark appear on his rump. Grape stopped his oscillating head with his forehooves long enough to hold it while making a very frustrated noise.
Not too unlike the noise getting closer to him very rapidly from his rear, as a figure tumbled through the sky in a disjointed ball of limbs flailing, trying to regain balance again. But that wasn’t meant to be. Grape’s ears shot up as he noticed the sound, looking back just in time to see a vaguely brown shape smash through a fully fruit laden trellis. He only had enough time to look horrified before the now-purple object hit the ground with a loud squishing sound and bounce directly into him
The hit smashed his lungs empty, and the two shapes became one rolling form, crushing the neatly organized grapes under the two of them, the juice and pulp making a slide under the two as they skid to a halt, with the griffon ending up on top.
Wait…
Grape blinks, and wipes the pulp out of his eyes with his hooves. His cleared vision confirms what he thought he saw, as well as why breathing became so much harder suddenly. A griffon was sitting on his chest, compressing his ribs uncomfortably, with her white eagle head was stained with juice. She was sat upright, holding her arms away from herself on top of him with a look of equal disgust and anger at the remains of the vineyard equipment and fruit that had clung to her. if she was caused any pain by the event, she didn’t show it.
Grape tried to speak but his empty lungs objected. The griffon’s voice worked just fine though, as she growled so menacingly Grape felt himself freeze from the sound and lock in place. It was a paralyzing thing to hear from a massive clawed creature currently pinning you to the ground with exactly zero effort.
She stood straight up from her position still holding herself upright. he had a paw firmly grounded on either side of his neck while scowling at her surroundings, clearly not wanting to be here. With her weight off of him, he was finally allowing him to wheeze easier as he curled up reflexively, watching her carefully through lightly watered eyes. he had questions, but at the time Grape’s sense of self-preservation kept him silent
“Herons think they own the whole sky!” she roared with enormous volume upwards, at clear sky.
She was towering over him, and clearly would have been even on all fours, with Grape standing beside her. With her large, powerful legs firmly planted on either side of the still crumpled Grape, he was trapped him under her, and she still hadn’t even acknowledged him yet.
“I swear these birds are such… dweebs!” She lifted one of her paws to stomp the ground, which is when Grape Realized he was currently the ground under her. He closed his eyes as if it would protect him somehow, and an instant later her paw was smashed squarely against his snout. he winced from the impact...and then cringed from something else.
The two of them were coated in juice, pulp and fragments of laced wood, but the scent of fresh grapes was barely an accent on the griffon’s paw. The toes splayed evenly over his nose, fitting like a key to a lock. Her heavy musk settled into him like a blanket over his mind, letting no other input though as the pink pads impacted his senses as strongly as they impacted his face.
Sweat had obviously been settling in between her toes, the scent of the salt mixed with the bits of fruit that had stuck to her, making a unique mixture of natural sweetness and all natural bitterness. There was no doubt that this paw forcing his head to the soft earth was just as slick before her tumble into the vineyard, and before her tumble into him. It was by no means hot out, but somehow this stranger currently standing on his face had been working hard enough to be almost hot to the touch, and Grape was in a prime spot to truly appreciate the effort
“-did I?”
Grape opened his eyes with a quizzical expression, his eyes meeting a stern set of annoyed eagle eyes glaring through him. She bounces her foot on him, making grape grunt as he feels her tighten her paw around his snout.
“I said, I didn’t kill you did I?” she repeats, looking at him with narrow eyes, moving a claw to remove some puree from her brow, then shaking her head as if to dry it.
All he could bring himself to do was shake his head as best he could, eyes wide. Grape Jam felt something change inside him, as if his heart had been asleep his whole life and it just now decided to shift its weight to fix that. His breath quickened, hazing him again with the scent of this griffon’s sweaty musk and making his eyes unfocus immediately, to the strangers annoyance.
She steps off of him and uses her claws to clean herself of debris and crushed fruit, leaving a disappointed Grape Jam behind and embedded in the earth
“I’m sure I didn’t break anything important, I’m sure you’ve got this right?” she says, trying to clean her face, the juice from the fruit having stained some of her white feathers a purple tint. She glances to Grape, who’s still on his back sniffing her scent as it hung in the air like a dog. While in a pile of crushed fruit. Looking like a fool.
“...Right,” she starts, noticing a bucket of water near by, and falls back to her natural standing position. she walking over to it and checks her reflection. “That’s not a bad color…” she muses to herself.
Grape tries to speak, tries to find his voice, but fails. He opens his mouth and closes it repeatedly, wishing he could find words to express anything to the stranger as he leans forward, looking over her body. Grape knows he’ll never forget this, that somehow this will shape his existence in this world. Grape knows he’s going to have very deeply ambivalent feelings about that.
The griffon looks back to him as he silently mouthed nothing while staring blankly at her like a goldfish. She sits down, and holds her face in one claw in a silent sigh, to stupefied by her company to do anything else. It’s only after trying to recompose herself she’s able to make herself look at Grape again.
“Okay… My name’s Gilda, can you follow that so far?” she turns her body back to him, taking a few steps in his direction. her voice was sharp, and clearly annoyed and frustrated.
Grape reflexively draw his limbs into his core as he nods in agreement with her. His cheeks flush subtly as he’s addressed in such a way by the stra- Gilda.
“Progress.” Gilda says sardonically, rolling her eyes. ”I’ve got things to do now, so I’m going to leave. Okay?” Her turn is commanding and aggressive and her body language matches her voice’s strength. she obviously wasn’t asking a question.
Grape just nodded in agreement again from Gilda’s order.
“Good.” Is all she says as she turns away from him and shakes her feathers to resettle them. then she flew away and out of sight.
Grape jam sat in silence for a moment before eventually rolling to his side and standing up. He was coated in drying crushed fruit, and it was starting to make his coat stick in uncomfortable ways. He tried to shake it off once before feeling it snatch painfully once by his tail. He turned his body and craned his neck to look at the spot, then he noticed something that wasn’t there before. He checked the other side of himself as well, and sure enough it was there too. On either side of his rump now, there was an image of a footstool, with a paw print on the seat.
This wasn’t a new situation to him anymore. but just because grape had been in this situation before didn’t make a griffon sitting on your chest with her hind legs in your face any less eventful, even if it hadn’t been followed by a huge creature smashing through a vineyard before violently colliding with him and then skidding for several feet.
“You are so freaking dead!” Gilda yelled from his chest, face twisted to a snarl as she shook a claw at the sky. “If I so much as see a heron that even looks like you…!” she threatens vaguely to something.
“he- hey….” Grape manages to say with the last bit of air he’d retained he wasn’t quite as small as he’d once been, but she was still much too heavy for him to hold her body weight painlessly, which he hoped she’d notice by his strained face.
Gilda apparently wasn’t prepared to hear another voice, even one barely audible. Her face went from one of fury to one of confusion and surprise, then she looked down to see his face between her paws. Grape tried to smile, but it was invisible though his pained grimace.
Despite being crushed, Grape felt whole right now. He felt even better still has he let his head fall to the side, putting his snout an inch away from those soft pink pads he remembered so clearly...and so often. After his first encounter with Gilda he knew immediately with his special talent was, he was going to tend to those paws and any paws. He’d even discovered after the first crash that enough crushed grape seeds make a great hair and skin product. Not that his family needed to know that, of course.
He had let them draw their own conclusions, which they had done without any suspicion he was being untruthful. Not that he had to lie, he still clearly remembered standing as the center of attention awkwardly, while they discussed it among each other what it might mean. All the while he was still thinking about the Gilda's paw-musk embarrassment burning on his cheek. He didn’t need to rely on those memories anymore though.
“-Again?” Grape heard an annoyed voice say. He snapped back to reality and turned back to face Gilda again, sad to not be observing the scent heavy toes that occupied his thoughts for so long. Gilda seemed to feel differently, however.
She watched him from her perch on his chest once again, her claws resting on her thighs as she wore a defeated expression. “I said...are you going to just be all dorky and mute again?” she wasn’t getting any lighter, but he could labor for breath a little longer if it meant keeping those shining pads in his peripheral vision.
Grape opened with a harsh wheeze, which Gilda didn’t even seem concerned about as she watched him with disinterest. “mmph...no…?” he said uncertainly. he tried to adjust himself in anyway he could, but his forelegs were soundly pinned down at his sides. even if he wanted to struggle he had no doubt that he’d be to weak to move Gilda in the slightest. He couldn’t even roll as the pressure had pushed his back into a snug groove of grassy earth.
“good.” Gilda said, standing upright over him again, holding her claws away from her body and shaking the wreckage out of herself. Grape feels deja vu strongly looking up at the towering athletic form, and couldn’t help but let out a strained, breathless chuckle. one that would easily be mistaken for wheezing.
Gilda cleaned herself off as best she could, shaking splinters from her fur and feathers. her claws made wonderful fine manipulators, letting her easily remove much of the crushed fruit from herself. Grape just watched, with his legs curled over himself. he couldn’t help feeling voyeuristic looking over her, comparing her body to his memories as noticing how well they matched up, save for a single new detail. the feathers around her eyes and the feathers that formed her bangs had been colored a soft, pastel purple.
“...hi…” Grape heard his voice say. he’d always hoped he’d get to actually met her, but never knew what he’d do or say. or if he could do or say anything. He wanted her paws most of all, but he didn’t want to admit it, even to himself. Knowing that he really just wanted to be under those deep pink and masking pads without really caring about the griffon they were attached to made him feel particularly dirty
Gilda finished up her pruning before acknowledging the pony on the ground between her legs, very loudly trying to catch his breath. “...yeah?” yeah said, obviously perplexed about what he could want from her.
Grape Makes eye contact for a fleeting second before curling tighter over himself, his legs tightly grouped over his underside with the lower half of his face hidden behind his fore legs. Grape realized that this is how other colts feel when trying to talk to mares they like. Grape’s next thought was about how he had just come to terms with how it he wasn’t particularly interested in mares. not in the same way he was into Gilda anyway
Gilda had started to growl now, and Grape shivered in response. He was about to lose his second chance with her because he couldn’t compose himself enough to talk to her. The thought was inescapable, but it just made him panic more. Gilda turned her whole body to face him as her curiousness turned to annoyance.
“What is With you, dweeb? If you want something spit it out!” she said, to the pony currently in the fetal position. “I don’t even know your name anyway, I don’t know what I thought something as obviously lame as you would have any business with me anyway.”
Then she turned to leave, just like she had the last time Grape sat around in silence. Much like a dweeb would, he imagined.
“Grape...my name’s Grape Jam…” he’s voice was shaky, much like the rest of his body, but he managed to finally introduce himself. He opened one of his eyes, which he hadn’t noticed himself close tightly from sheer terror, and saw that Gilda had sat down. She had her head looking over her shoulder to watch him with narrow eyes, but her back was still facing him. He noticed her tail twitch in the same way a house cat’s tails would when annoyed...or hunting.
Grape rocked himself forward to match her sitting position, but he kept his head low. He’d managed to keep her here, but That was just a start. Now he had to actually try to talk to her. since he only knew her name that might be a problem, especially with her already peeved at him for having social skills to match the plants around them.
“You’re...Gilda, right?” Grape wasn’t harboring any hope here, and his body showed it. his forelegs barely help him as his whole body drooped plaintively, barely catching eye contact in spare glances between her in the dirt below him.
Gilda wasn’t following what was happening at all. She smashing into him a few times and all he can do is gawk, but now that she’s about to leave again this guy suddenly looks like he’s about to melt into a puddle of sadness at the thought. She couldn’t even think of a good word for him at this point. she didn’t have a solid collection of insults for people who were lame because they were confusing her by being a sudden downer.
“okay, fine then…” Gilda said harshly though a sigh. She turned herself in place to face her body to him again. “...What do you want, Grape.” She said, coldly. her posture was tall and strong, even if her mind wasn’t quite so organized as she tried to understand the pony in front of her a bit better. As well as why she hadn’t left yet. she had literally nothing keeping her here beyond her curiosity in some one obviously much weaker than her, like that could possibly lead to anything interesting.
Grape wasn’t handling the other side of this awkward social coin with half as much stability and glamor. His back and shoulders straightened so quickly he almost tipped back over from his own recoil as he tried to get more comfortable with looking at Gilda’s face. He knew he couldn’t hesitate any more to speak or he’d lose his chance for good. He couldn’t hope she’d crash into him again in the future, he needed to do this now. No regrets.
“I want you..” Grape was regretting this harder than anything ever before. If regret could be expressed as a number, this would call for scientific notation. His eyes opened as wide as Gilda’s from both of their surprise at his words. Maybe he should have taken at least a second to plan that, since it provoked Gilda to stand up and speed walk at him. Her claws were leaving noticeable gouges in the earth.
“I mean I like you! I mean I want to like you! I mean I want to get you to want me to like you then-!” he was trying to backpedal away from the massive advancing griffon as she marched to him with an invincible stride. Grape thought his heart was going to explode from untold levels of panic when Gilda raised her claw and clutched Grape’s mouth effortlessly. If grape wasn’t blushing before, he definitely was now, feeling her touch him again. Even if it was in a very scary way.
“Stop talking.” she ordered as she held his super dweeby, mega-dork face shut. How can one pony cycle through every level of social awkwardness this quickly? most of them just picked one for two things to suck at but, wow, Grape here had proven to be pretty terrible at all of it. Gilda hoped that wasn’t his way on hitting on her, or he’d go back to being depressed very soon. But...still, that was pretty bold. not that Gilda would secretly respect that in the least.
Her Face was unreadable. Grape couldn’t tell if that was because he didn’t know how to tell how birds or lions felt, or because she had decided to communicate exclusively by holding onto his face to keep him from making digging his grave any deeper. His eyes darted around, unwilling to try and resist, but crushingly unsure of what to actually do.
Then Gilda finally came to her own decision of what to do in this ridiculously lame situation, and she showed it with rolled eyes and a gruff breath. “fiiine.” she said in an annoyed drone. if she didn’t have Grape’s head in a vice grip right now he would have cocked his head in confusion.
“you wanna hang out with me, huh?” Gilda said, calmed. she was looking down at Grape humorlessly, but not hostilely. Grape tried to smile and nod. He might have even been able to if Gilda had lightened her unbreakable vice grip in the least, but she seemed to have felt his attempted motion
“...I can deal with that, I guess….” Gilda says, in the tone some one would use when forced to take a younger sibling with them when they’d really rather not. She let go of Grapes face, and his forehooves replaced her claws as he rubbed his snout where her claw had left barely visible imprints on him. when Grape looked back up to Gilda, she was circling around him, with judging eyes. He was starting to make ‘cat and mouse’ comparisons between him and Gilda.
“...Is that a stool? With a paw print?” Grape felt very nervous for a very new reason. His stomach was about to burst forth with a million butterflies at the thought of having to explain that quite yet.
“y...yeah...it’s…” he started to lie, and failed. now that he could bring himself to speak he was struck with a lack of anything to say. He hoped briefly that he wouldn’t have to spend all his time around Gilda dumbstruck.
“I thought you ponies almost always had names and cutie marks that matched...what’s that even for, ponies don’t even have paws.” she thought out loud, not bothering to look at his face. she sat down and stretched her hind leg out in front of her, and thus towards Grape. looking at her foot and comparing it to the cutie mark idly.
it’s...grape...stomping…” he stammered, clumsy. his eyes moving like a bullet between Gilda's paw and the nothing in the opposite of his field of vision.
“with hooves.” Gilda responded instantly, unconvinced. “Have you ever seen paws before dwe-?” Gilda had a realization and looked Grape in the eyes with a grin. a grin that said I have so much power over you right now.
“I...yeah…” he said, with downcast eyes. then Gilda kicked him in the face again.
She’d jammed her paw right into his snout once again, thought in a different position. she was sat in front of him, a bit back on her claws for balance with both of her hind legs in front of her. One more in front than the other, resting on Grapes face as he blushed so brightly Gilda had no issue recognizing it though the purple coat.
“no wonder you acted so dumb around me, some one’s been holding a crush I think.” Gilda said, squeezing her toes around his snout, her pads warm against him. warm and so perfectly scented with her heavy musk tinged with grass and dirt. “I bet you’ve been thinking about these for a looong time.”
Grape Tries to speak, but all he can do is smell her scent as he presses his nose back into her, feeling her toes drum over him as he looks between her other paw and very amused expression. he was biting his lip now as he let himself sniff. He’d gotten to catch the scent of these paws before, but nothing compared to sniffing them right now, with his nose cupped by her amazing toes.
She smelled like sweat and earth compounded by an athletes labor and accented so very faintly with rainwater and grape juice. The scent was just as powerful as she was, strong enough to keep him from wanting anything else. He felt his eyes close slowly to let himself focus as he nuzzled into Gilda’s paw, wanting to get deeper into her toes.
“Freak.” Gilda started, amusement saturated her voice and dominance was clear in every sound she made. “Do you know how weird it is for a pony to have a foot fetish?” She was smiling, but her eyes were commanding. Grape snapped back to attention, but didn’t move from his position. Shame was stamped on his face very clearly.
“I don’t...Ha-” Was all Grape could manage to get out before Gilda’s other paw was in his mouth with a Sharp and very well timed kick. He was equally silenced internally as emotional fireworks blasted his reasoning away. Gilda’s central toes had landed on his tongue, and he could have never prepared himself for her taste. She was salty and dirty, but he was enchanted wholly by it as she began to take over all of his senses one by one.
“Think I’m dumb or something? I remember standing on that shocked little face of your when I smashed into you the first time, and I remember you acting just as dorkish then too!”
Grape could only look away from her as she hit the nail on the head. In hindsight he wasn’t exactly hiding it very well, it wouldn’t have been anymore obvious he he had a sign around his neck, instead of one on either side of his rump. Her teasing was flustering him more and more as time went on, and those butterflies in his stomach from earlier were starting to make a comeback.
“I’ll make you say it too, wimp.” Gilda Says, gripping her toes around his nose strongly. “I’ve got all day to play with you, and I doubt you’re going to try and stop me.” she said adamantly.
If Gilda was a Pony, Grape knew her special talent would be that teasing of hers. everything about this situation was completely against Grape and he knew it, but he was getting exactly what he wanted out of it. he’d dreamed about it since the first encounter with Gilda, but now, suddenly she’d fallen out of the sky again and shoved those supple, unforgettable pads into his face again. Grape loved everything about it, even if Gilda’s taunting was keeping his face red.
“umph…” Grape mumbled weakly through the toes in his mouth. when he did so his tongue brushed across those perfectly smooth pads and his breath slowed at the feeling. Gilda rolled her eyes again and gave a Gruff chuckle before moving her paw from his mouth to resting over his eyes. Grape was okay with this. if she was going to just let him have his play and give her paws attention he had no reason to deny,after all.
“I...d-don’t have a...foot fetish.” Grape lied. if he could see her face though the glistening pink pads in front of his eyes, he would have looked away.
He felt his heart gain ten pounds from his pointless denial, but his mind wouldn’t let him say it out loud for some reason he didn’t understand. it was dumb. it was dumb and he was dumb for it. A very dumb pony with the greatest set of paws ever resting on his face and nose. he wanted to hold them so badly it almost hurt.
Gilda gripped his snout with her paw hard enough for her toes to constrict his airway. He gasped, partly for air, and partly for surprise as he felt something very lightly and thin touch around nose skin just beyond her pads. Then Grape remembered she had claws.
“just because I’ve got all day to work you over doesn’t mean I won’t speed things up a bit if you make me. twerp.” she emphasized herself with a swift nudge against his head with both her legs, her strength forcing Grape to gasp as his whole body to rock back.
“I could feel you sniffing at them you know.” her voice was still teasing, but with an undertone of aggravation. She obviously didn’t appreciate being challenged by him it seems.
Grape heard both himself whimper, and his heartbeat skyrocket as he felt her claws barely graze across his snout, just enough to tell him they were there. Grape was feeling very energized suddenly from the very threatening presence of Gilda's claws. He was breathing quickly in short panicked breaths; he could swear he could taste her strong scent. She could do whatever she wanted with him so long as he was at those big, glorious, Glistening-with-traces-of-sweat paws. Gilda was aware of this
“What’s it gonna be then, Grape? Am I gonna have to get...forceful?” Gilda said it as if she was coming on to him, rather than threatening him with physical violence.
“...” Grape’s jaw hung open but he seemed to have forgotten how it works. His mind was racing away though, trying to figure out every possible way these events would play out. if he caved and admitted he liked her paws...well, there didn’t be a downside there, and it would mean gilda wouldn’t bully him anymore with her paws. but if he did admit it then…
then Gilda might not bully him anymore with her paws. and he just didn’t want that to stop. he wanted her to keep at him, muscling him around and teasing him with her sweated, musky, strong, soft, pink-padded paws. He was loving this so much and felt so complete under her. but that wasn’t...sensible was it? surely he could ju-
Then Gilda kicked him in the face. Again. Gilda might have a problem
Grape was flat on his back, flinching, trying to figure out how she could draw her legs back and kick out that quickly when he heard Gilda speak again
“Times up. if I let you do the talking you mute little weirdo I actually will be here all day. if I Take the reigns on my little pony here…” Her tone had changed enough to make Grape wonder if he was in trouble again. she didn’t sound playful anymore. she sounded like a taskmaster.
Like someone with a plan that was going to be enacted because they said so. She still wore that smile though, Grape watched it as she rolled to her side and stood up and strolled over to behind him, right by his head, with impeccable confidence. He watched with wide eyes as she reared up on her haunches again, as he’d been through this enough to know what was coming next.
Sure enough, Gilda lifted her paw, this time with a few blades of stray grass to it, and Grape closed his eyes tightly and braced for impact. then he heard a sound he wasn’t expecting, a heavy thud. from Gilda. He slowly raised an ear to listen for her...nothing. He opened one eye to peek to get a clear view of Those big lion paws.
then she threw them onto his face. She’d sat down behind him to use both paws again this time, and it seems she deliberately waited for him to look to do that. She gripped him again, and those claws made another paranoia inducing appearance. She jostled him around by his snout, making him whimper as all of her toes made their way around his snout, with the occasional reminder of those Needle-edges of hers.
She had control of all of his senses. That blanketing scent overwhelming everything else around them was dreamlike, and being able to watch them worth this time was even better as he could see every detail, observing how her pads turned white when they put now pressure. Gilda laughed the way Grape imagined she’d laugh at a rival who’s made a fool of himself, and he began to pant. he could feel those faintly slicked padded toes wave and slide over his coat and nose with no resistance like a sheet of silk.
He wanted to refresh his memory of the only sensation left though, he was longing to taste those captivating toes again. slowly, and hesitantly, Grape reached out his tongue, and caught a broad, flat lick. he let his tongue roll across the breadth of her whole paw, then the other. Gilda had stopped and spayed her toes for him. he didn’t hesitate to weave his tongue between them. he winced and shuddered when he felt one of her claws on his tongue but he didn’t stop, he was far too enamored by her taste…
Her pads had a heavy dose of her musk as he was made well aware of by now, but it was dwarfed by what he found between her toes. He had to stop and start more than once because he could handle more than a short burst of her salty taste. he knew she had to be an athlete of some kind with this much to her, he could even feel the definition of her muscles. she must be stronger than him at least twice over.
“tell me about it, dweeb.” Gilda ordered, her enjoyment of his attention was not hidden in the least, as she wiggled and waved her toes to let his tongue lap in new ways. “tell Gilda why you won’t drag yourself away from these well-used paws she has.”
Grape didn’t freeze this time, he just looked ashamed, and didn’t make eye contact as he kept his worship going. then he saw Gilda take out her claws as far as she could. he looked to her face and was met with a very stern expression. all he could do was grin nervously.
“I wasn’t asking.” Gilda said, her voice hard and cold as steel, and Grape was stunned by the drastic shift. she really didn’t like being challenged by him. Grape wasn’t about to disappoint her after a display like that
“...They’re just…amazing…” Grape starts, staring at her paws with their claws still being wielded. “just...everything. they’re beautiful...and they smell so nice…”
Grape hesitated to lift his fore legs, but when Gilda didn’t object he wrapped them around her her legs and hugged her paws to his face and nuzzled into them as if he was holding a teddy bear. Gilda just smirked, pleased.
“weirdo pony foot fetishist.” Gilda teased, leaning back on her hands and letting Grape entertain himself with her parts.
“I...do...have a foot fetish” Grape confessed into Gilda's padded soles. he felt lighter somehow as the words left him.
“What was that dork? it’s hard to hear you when your muffled by these ‘Amazing paws’ of mine.” Gilda almost couldn’t stifle her laughter, as she quoted him.
“I have a foot fetish…” Grape said louder now. “I just love your paws…I’ve wanted them so long…”He emphasized this with a squeeze to her.
“I love paws...I like having them, I like to touch them...I like to taste them…” Grape wasn’t talking to Gilda any more so much as just confessing to anything that was listening.
he’d never said these things out loud before, but here he was, cuddled up with the exact object of his desire with her even enjoying it. Dreams didn’t come together as perfectly as today had, he was in heaven. He felt like a jigsaw puzzle that had never noticed a piece was missing until after it was fit in place.
“Hey, twerp.” Gilda said, rather plainly this time. waiting for Grape to look up at her before continuing. “You better be planning on buying me dinner after this, I’m no easy piece.” she said, smirk wider than before.
“...did you just...ask me for a date?” Grape said, looking up to Gilda again. suddenly all the nerves and trauma of they day was instantly dwarfed by that though.
The panic Nervousness of potentially asked out was dwarfed again instantly again by the impact of Gilda’s hardest kick to the face yet.
“...You are such a dweeb…” Gilda said, in a weary tone.
