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Graphic depiction of blood, gore or mutilation of body parts
Features sexual themes or language, but does not depict sexual acts.
Explicit depiction of sexual acts.
Features non-consensual sexual acts.
Depiction of severe mistreatment of children
Depiction of self-harm
Depiction of suicide
Depiction of torture
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This tale includes sex. Very unchristian, avert your eyes if you're under 18.
If you JUST want the juicy lore tidbits and want to skip the whole sex-scene that builds up character development, then I suggest reading SCP-2746, SCP-1913, SCP-1619, SCP-2999, and AT THE VERY LEAST The Old Ice beforehand. Then, read everything outside the gym scene.

Image Credit
Artwork by SunnyClockwork

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Small Kitten Loves His Rabbit Girlfriend Who is Four Times His Size

You are currently viewing "Better Days". This story is highly sexual in nature, and you should not read it unless you are 18 or older.

It's been a lifetime. Site-45-C held an icy chill within its dusty halls; one that would have been lost on the undead feline, if not for the icicles hanging from the ceiling. He knew she was here, there was no good reason for it to be this cold otherwise. He just… didn't know where she was. His searching brought him to the old gym they used to frequent, the last good memory he had in life.
He walked in, his two paws clicking against the cold faux wood floor of the running track, and into the women's locker room. He looked around the corner, and to the lockers. Some were ajar, some rusted shut. Only one stood out to him.
Scratched into the door, next to the Dent, were the words:

#43

RIP

Sarah Crowely
1960
Forever loved.

Stuart Hayward
1998
Finally reunited.

It was the closest they'd get to a tombstone, at any rate. She wasn't there, but Something was calling him to stay. He'd been searching the site for days, why not rest?
He let his weary bones settle right underneath the Dent, the cold floor surprisingly comfortable. Being here filled him with memories. Warm ones, fuzzier than any blanket, and so, so inviting…
Maybe, if he just closed his eyes…

Stuart and Sarah had a habit of going to Site-45-C's gym after hours. Given Sarah's position as Guard Captain and the simple fact that she could technically go wherever she pleased within Site-45, the wide-open space was a perfect place for the restless to get away.
Ever since they discovered Jackie, the two couldn't go outside Site-45, which wasn't too bad; Site-45 is a city in its own right. When their faces sloughed and they donned a permanent mask, Halloween had become their only time on the outside… And the two weren't exactly ready to call their once-yearly vacation over yet.
"What's the plan today?" Stuart asked, dressed up in a tanktop and a pair of tight running shorts. He started his stretch routine, raising his blackened arms over his head, clenching and releasing his clawed hands as he did.
Sarah joined him, her strong arms rippling with muscle from each grip. "Well, lessee… I think I'm doing deadlifts and bench presses, and you're on leg day again."
"Isn't leg day every day for me?" Stuart tilts his head, smirking.
"Yep. Uh, I think you're doing squats and cardio specifically, though."
"What, so you can stare at my ass? I think we both know what's going on, here."
"Down, Kitty" Sarah chuckles. "As much as I'd love to put you in your place, we got a few things ta do first."
"Oh? 'Put me in my place?' That sounds like a challenge."
"I am almost four times your size and packing enough muscle to lift a car, Kitten. It ain't a challenge."
"Hmph, whatever you say, Love. Let's get to it, then." Stuart teased, stepping up to the barbell rack. He slid on 250 pounds and got into position, his shorts not having left much to the imagination as he got low to the ground.
Meanwhile, Sarah goes straight for the bench press, careful to align the bench so she doesn't miss the view of Stuart's firm, shapely ass dropping low to the floor. The Gym's weights never satisfied her, so she had to bring extra plates of her own. Putting a couple of tons on the bar, she lied down and got to work.
They say having a girl sit on your lap while you work out increases your workout potential. If that's the case, then Stuart must have had the rear end of a goddess, since he wasn't even sitting. Seeing him in those tight shorts motivated Sarah to heights she never reached outside of their group workouts. Her arms pulsed and her pecs quivered with every lift of the barbell.
One of the secrets to sticking to a workout routine is to be a bit of a masochist; cherishing the feeling of your muscles aching against the pressure, craving the release as you go to a resting position, just to do it again.
As Sarah moved on to the deadlifts, Stuart wandered off to the track. The way his ass looked in motion was distracting, but two thoughts motivated her to keep at it. First: getting even stronger was a prospect that was beaten into her when she was young. There was a rumor that the Amazonian bunny was never even human, and that she was secretly a skip herself, or that she was taking some kind of strength-enhancing drugs from the Foundation. But if either of those were the case, she was completely unaware of it.
Second: The anticipation was too sweet. Counting down the reps, keeping tabs of Stuart's progress around the track like she was a stalking predator, waiting to pounce on her next meal… by the time she reached zero, she was ready to pounce him.
Which, after putting the barbell away, she did.
Stuart knew that outrunning Sarah was like trying to outrun a bear: unlikely and probably going to end with a broken neck from the ensuing tackle. Instead, he put himself up against the wall and allowed her to pin him down. She towered over Stuart, her chest easily able to smother him while he was standing up.
"W-well hello there" He chuckled.
"You did this on purpose, don't lie." She growls, her hot breath on his face. "I can practically see through your shorts, you kinky fucker."
Well, he did do this on purpose. But being called out on it always triggered embarrassment. "I-I… maybe I did…"
"Mhmm… you only got laps left, right? How about we try a different cardio routine?" She cooed, holding him by the head. Her grasp engulfed most of his scalp as she tilted his head upward, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "If you're all right with that?"
"I-I… yes." Stuart moaned, his shorts getting tighter from the mere suggestion. His arms draped over her wide, well-defined back. Stuart could do nothing but squirm, gasping with discomfort as he prodded Sarah's chest. A short walk around a few corners, and he was flung over on his back and onto the changing bench.
"I got just the thing for such a cute kitten," Sarah growled as she pulled off Stuart's shorts. With the man thoroughly exposed, Sarah backed up and reached into her locker, pulling out something that was almost definitely contraband anywhere outside of one's personal quarters. Stuart thought she was joking when he saw the length. He prayed Sarah was joking when she fitted the belt around it. He started looking for the people who would pop out and say 'gotcha!' when she pulled out the lubricant.
"You can't be serious!" Stuart laughed in disbelief, a nervous twitch running through his body.
"I'll go slow," Sarah promised. "At first." She threw a towel on his face. "In case you need to bite on something."
"Why bother with the bitch-breaker, then? Why not just stick a dumbbell up there at this point?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Sarah asked, picking up his legs and looking up at the man. "…Okay, the safeword is 'white'. Say that and I'll stop. Got it?"
Stuart nodded, screwing up his face in fear and anticipation. He shivered as he felt Sarah enter him, an uncommon feeling of cold, offset by the warmth of Sarah's hand joining around his own. "Ah-a-aowhhh…"
"You good?" She asked, pausing her movement.
"Did I say t-to stop?" He grinned, brow coated with sweat. He felt like he was going to launch off and hit the locker at this rate.
Tears streamed down Stuart's mask as he bit into the towel, and his nails dug into the back of Sarah's hand. The sounds that came out of him slowly morphed from exclamations of pain to moans that a passerby might mistake for a loose cat in the locker room.
"Good kitty," Sarah panted, leaning in and pulling the towel aside enough to get in a kiss. "That's it, let me hear you purr…"
"C-can't do…" He gasped, his voice hitching in his throat as Sarah pulled herself closer, before something that resembled a gurgling growl escaped. "Holy fuck!"
Stuart regretted several things in his life; not among them was the sensation of Sarah picking him up and pinning him against the lockers. He didn't regret the Dent put into them, though his shoulder (and maintenance) would never forgive him. What he did regret, after a few minutes, was the state of his clothing.
"Goddammit all," he panted as Sarah put him down, looking at his stained top. "D-do you know how hard it is to wash this out?"
"How do you know?" Sarah smirked, patting his stomach softly.
"Y-you think there's much else to do after I'm done working?" Stuart panted, sitting up and stripping out of his top. "Gods above, Sarah, we could get in so much trouble for this."
"What fun is this without a little risk?" That much being said, Sarah laid back on the bench, discarding both the implement and her own shorts. "C'mon then, kitten. I want to feel your claws in me."
Stuart swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as he loomed over the woman, hands on her shoulders. He wasn't sure what to do next; a kiss seemed appropriate, so he tried that.
Sarah returned it with a tenderness that had been absent for the last several minutes, before they were pulled together by her rebar-strong arms, Stuart forced into her.
He let out a gasp, followed by a moan, followed by silence. He plunged in, holding himself tight to Sarah, lost in a nebula of bliss. He forgot the bench beneath them, he forgot the pain in his shoulder, the Dent, almost everything except Sarah and himself.
"F-fuck, Stu. For such a shortie, you're… fuuck!" Sarah gasped, her knuckles white as she clenched the bench's leg for support. The metal groaned under her grip.
"Bunny, I'm n-not short, you're massive. I don't think I've seen anyone taller." Stuart breathed, his face pressed into her chest as he attended to her every need.
"I-it's both, trust me." She huffs, going up and down to match with his movements. "Kitten, fuck, just… I love you. So fucking much." Sarah's grip tightened. She didn't even mean to, but her hold on the bench was causing it to crumple and fold like tinfoil. Perhaps inevitably, the bench collapsed, causing her to lay on a decline.
"O-oh fuck, Sarah, are you okay? Do you need help up?"
"N-no, j-just… keep going. Please." She said, her desperation apparent as her claws dug into Stuart's sides, both of her arms now on him.
Stuart winced as he felt her nails sink in, shivers racing through his whole body. It was only fair that he returned the favor, raking across her deltoids and biceps. They were no longer two people. He. She. They were one and the same. Reaching the peak wasn't even a thought to them. The chills raising from toe to head, being so close to one another, the blissful disregard of anything except each other; that was rewarding enough.
"Close." Stuart gave a gentle, throaty reminder. Not that Sarah needed it, she could read his body language through touch and sense his expression behind the mask. She simply shook her head "yes" and held him tighter, allowing just enough room for him to move inside.
They tensed, the ichor having gone straight to both of their heads. Having lost focus, they slid down the bench, their sweat stifling any friction that would have stopped them from reaching the floor. They were silent. No words, just hugs, and fingers running through hair. Stuart was the first to break the silence.
"You okay, love?" He purred, head resting on her chest.
"Mhm… Thirsty…" She murmured, running her claws through Stuart's hair, petting him like a cat.
"Same… We should probably shower too… we kinda stink." He chuckled, passing her her water bottle. "We uh… have a lot to answer for, huh?"
"Mhm. Play dumb, we'll be fine. Let me worry about it, let's just… focus on each other. I'm still lightheaded, kitten."
"Want to just… lay here for a bit?" Stuart smiled. A real smile, not the one their mask made them have.
"Mm… no, it's a little too dirty for me. Let's… move this to the shower, hm? Some cold water would be great right now." She kissed him sweetly on the forehead before she rose, scooping him up as she did.
The water from the shower felt perfect on their skin as it relieved them of the heat from both their literal and intimate workouts. As they showered, they only occasionally opened their eyes, just to see where they were. The cool water, the sharing of soap as they huddled together, it felt like a deep, loving kiss. Shutting out the rest of the world was natural to them.
"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, Kitten." Sarah broke the silence. "I'd sooner tear this world apart, bit by bit. I… don't think I have the words. I just want you to be happy. More than anything… Just… Thank you."
Stuart looked up at her. Neither of them could tell if she was crying or not, but Stuart felt the same. Between mythological, literary, and religious studies, he has read almost every poem, love letter, confession, speech; every way to express one's love. But none of them matched the churning he was feeling in his stomach.
Stuart simply guided her head lower towards his and kissed her again. This time, deeper. Longer. When he finally released, he opened his eyes. "Thank you, too."
'The Dent' they left in the locker was destined to be there longer than the Foundation was. They were able to cover up the episode the next day, but deep down, everyone knew why the bench needed to be replaced. The hazing the two were in for would have been legendary.
But duty called.

Stuart felt a gentle caress across his skull, bringing him back to the land of the living. "Kitten? Is… is that you?"
Stuart leaped up to his feet, startled at first. But, after realizing who was standing in front of him, he tackled her. "S-SARAH!"
She squeezed him right back, laughing all the way. "Oh god, Stuart! I almost didn't recognize you! You grew!… And have lungs. Also, what are those… wires? Plates?"
"Y-yeah, I uh… apparently wasn't done growing. And uh… had cravings for speakers? Don't worry about that, it's not important or scary at all, I'm so happy to see you!" The cat mewled, his arms wrapped tight around the ghost. "You were looking pretty scrawny last we spoke. These are the arms I remember."
"PFFt! I was in a coma, you little bitch!" Sarah laughed, rubbing Stuart's ears "… Seriously though, you're okay? They didn't let me see you in… at least a decade."
"I am. Or at least, I am now… Funny meeting you here. I was just thinking about the better days."
"Yeah, I uh… thought you might wander over here eventually. Turns out I was right… Better days?" Sarah asked, offering to pick him up.
Stuart accepted. "You know, when we were just… People. When we were alive and together."
"Oh, I see…" Sarah trailed off, her gaze languidly floating onto Stuart's face. It was him, just as she remembered.

Sara looked at the wide array of gold rings and gemstones in the display case, each one giving off its own distracting shine. In all honesty, this was all… above her.
She had no mother to teach her how to be a girl. Nor a father to protect her. She did the protecting herself. She gave up looking at rocks. She was impatient, and at this point, finding someone who knew all about these pretty rocks was better than wasting time trying to pick one herself.
She walked up to the nearest person with a nametag and looked her directly in the eye. "Hello… Amy?" She read out loud. "I am looking for a set of wedding rings. I know nothing about them, what he'd want, or… what makes a good wedding ring. I'd appreciate it if you told me what's the best one."
Amy looked at Sarah like she was a clown. "I… see. Isn't the man supposed to do the ring shopping? Or are you trying to drop a hint?"
"No." Sarah shook her head. "I am doing the proposal… Why? Is that weird?"
"A-… No, no. You're fine! Trendsetting, even." It was very clear that it was not worth it to Amy. She had already checked out on getting to know the weirdo who does their wedding shopping in a costume. Fine by Sarah. "How about I take you to our special collection?"
"Now that's more like it. Show me the goods!" The smile on her face was now genuine. "I want it to match… me and him, I guess."
"Of course, dear. Now, why don't you tell me about him?" Amy asked, not listening to Sarah as she ushered her in.
"Well, he's kind, loving, sexy as hell… Ooh, and a wonderful singer. His voice makes me melt. We work together in the uh… military.
"Oh, you're a nurse?"
"… Sure! And he has a more office-y job. But we work together a lot. He's a cat person, has an adorable little accent… A bit scatterbrained, but that's why I love him."
"Office romance hm? How does your boss feel about that?"
Sarah simply shrugged. "They don't seem to care. I suppose since it hasn't caused problems, they decided it's not their concern."
"Oooh how nice! Now, how do you feel about this?" Amy smirked, showing her one of the most exquisite rings she had in store. Pure gold band, with not just one diamond, but one big diamond amongst an array of smaller ones, elaborately placed amongst one another by an experienced jeweler. Even looking at it made one feel like royalty.
"… No, I don't think that fits us. Plus, it feels like that diamond could fall off at any time. One punch and I'll lose it in someone's forehead."
"…What?"
"It's also just… not my style? I don't know. Gold never fit me. Or him, for that matter."
"O-okay, that's fine. Were you thinking maybe a silver, or-"
"How about these?" Sarah asks, looking up over to a set of stainless steel rings.
"T-the class rings? No, you c-"
"OOOH, THIS ONE, WITH THE MUSICAL NOTES ON IT! AND THE LIGHT BLUE GEM! IT'S PERFECT!" The giant woman hopped in place, giddy. "It looks like ice! I love it!"
"… Very well." Amy sighed.
"He'll love it, I know he will. Plus, we can have matching gems!"
"I'm… sure he will." Amy obviously didn't think so, likely thinking that this was not her circus, monkey, or problem.
Sarah exhales "Sorry, sorry. I'm not usually like this. It's just… him. He's just… do you believe in soulmates? I feel like I was made for him, and vice versa… He's all I think about. Guess I'm a bit obsessed!"
"I s-"
"I have never once liked anyone like I like him. When we met for the first time, I had him pegged as… well, a square, I suppose. But he's the only person who makes me feel… anything real."
"That's n-"
"That probably has to do with the job. This is the one time of year I can vacation, and here I am… buying a ring so we can be together forever."
"I don't r-"
"Like, if it weren't for work, our lives would be perfect! I'd just hold him tight and he'd hold me back. We'd travel the world, maybe tour in dive bars for fun… Ooh, maybe even start a band. I can play a mean piano."
"I really j-"
"And then that'd be our lives. Drinking, playing, traveling. We'd do nothing but enjoy ourselves in this awful world… I hate Vegas. It's hot, and lonely… dirty in every place there's no casino… Hot. But, this is where I was assigned."
"… Assigned?"
"Military stuff, do you care?"
"I-"
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Anyway, if it wasn't for him… I don't think I could live like this. It's just… so much stress. I want to protect him… Show him I care, and we'll be together for as long as we live… He's everything to me… I want to spend the rest of our future together." Sarah exhaled looking off.
"… That'll be 59.98."
"O-oh, right, sorry. Here." She chuckled, pulling out her bag. "Can you take a check?"

Sarah snapped back to the present with a chuckle and a headshake. "Hey, um… Stuart. The lockers were never replaced, right?"
"That's right."
Sarah smiled internally. "Hopefully that means it's here…" She trailed off, setting Stuart down and going off to her old locker. She got low and lifted the entire row of lockers from their spot. They were designed to be attached to the floor, but nothing was sacred in the face of her strength. "Do you see anything?" Sarah asked, holding the row of rusty lockers up.
"Uh, some pennies and… a box?"
"Yes! Could you grab it? I only have so many hands."
Stuart nodded and slid underneath her, nabbing the small box with his clawed hands, which allowed Sarah to unceremoniously drop the locker row with a 'clang.'
"I planned on doing this that night, but we kind of got carried away, didn't we?" She chuckled, picking up the box as Stuart handed it to her. "Before I do something that'll derail this entire reunion… Do you remember anything else? Before those days, I mean."
"… You mean like… Before the Foundation?" Stuart tilted his head.
"No, way before that."
"… Childhood?"
"Before that."
"N-no. Why?"
"Well, how do I put this…" Sarah rubbed the back of her head. "I kind of realized something… I wouldn't call our time at the Foundation 'better.' Really, I don't think we could've been happy at all back then if we didn't have each other. And now I'm realizing we had actual better days before then."
"… So I guess you figured out what we are, huh? You remembered?"
"Yes, I did. I'm surprised you didn't remember it after your death as I did."
"I… pieced together we weren't normal. Fuck, Sarah, you got your job from pulling a fully-loaded cargo van out of a mudhole. It wasn't even in Neutral, you left it in Park. I had my neck snapped a dozen times, and my bones were shattered and healed in a million places. We did this!" He says, motioning to the Dent. "How did anyone miss that?"
"We didn't want to know… We willfully blinded ourselves to it, Kitten." She sighed.
"But why? Why would we ever…"
"For a simple life. Which's hilarious, because look how that turned out." Sarah chuckled; there wasn't much in the way of mirth behind it. "I don't know about you, but running away from our problems only hurt us more… But that's okay, Kitten. We got the future ahead of us. We can face it, and handle things our way." Sarah held the box in her hand, now getting on one knee. "… Together."
Stuart looked up at her, the signals flying over his head. "What's our relationship to them? The Furies?"

"I-Well… You probably at least figured it out by now, didn't you? We're the same thing as them."
"I… can't believe we're in the same category as a bunch of omnicidal demons. I just… Can't."
Sarah inhaled, the words were thick in her throat. "They… aren't what the documents say they are."
"What? Sarah, they attacked us! Freddie had my heart ripped out of my chest!"
"Stuart, you don't understand, Freddie and Ag-"
"No," Stuart screamed, clawing his way out of his lover's arms. "Gods, you're fake too, aren't you?! You're just one of them! No, shut up, shut the fuck up!" His voice raised to painful levels.
"A- Stuart, wait, just li-" Sarah was cut off, her ears ringing from the sheer volume.
"No, fuck off! God, I was so stupid to believe anything! Sarah died in 1960, and that's where she always will be! Get away from me!" Stuart demanded, his voice cracking and popping like a broken speaker. The whole site could have heard him, let alone Sarah. The ice and glass around them shattered, all the millions of pieces falling to the ground, scattered across the floor. "I'm not one of you! I-I'm not! Just…" The abomination's lips curled into something neither of them recognized. "Just! Go! Away!"
Sarah couldn't even hear him over the sound of his own voice. She clutched her head, blood streaming from her ears. She looked up just in time to find him running away.
"S-Stuart, wait!" Her voice was inaudible to her. All she knew was that she couldn't let him go. Not after this long. She couldn't just let him run away over something like this. She ran as fast as she could, but he was faster.
Out of breath, having lost track of him, and ears ringing, she fell to her knees. She looked to the ring box in her hands, crushed from holding onto it so tightly. "Please… don't leave me…"

The cold's left Site-45. Stuart crept around the corner to the locker room, careful of his claws clinking against the floor.
Sarah, or Sarah, must have gone to a different floor or left the site entirely. "Good." He thought. He was better alone, with his memories. He paced over to the locker, with their Dent… It looked more inviting than ever… but Stuart didn't want anyone finding him. Much less Sarah.
He tried opening it; it still worked, even after all these years. Its cold, steel interior looked… snug. Warm and comforting, like how a corpse would find a coffin. Surely resting inside would be safe. He raked his claws against some of the marks on the locker, and carefully fit his feline body inside, closing the door, and embracing sleep.

#43

RIP

Sarah Crowely
1960
Forever loved.

Stuart Hayward
1998
Finally reunited.