Chapter Text
“Sacré bleu!” A bespoke businessman with chiseled shoulders and ‘mon-catcher eyes cried out. “Tenicia, which of Latias’ fits is this?!” he asked, finger pointing to a luxury pecha-pink pokemon-bed, where a pedigreed umbreon slept.
The unexpected pet perked up at the noise, ears folded back in distress as the man’s shadow approached with balled-up fists.
“Louise, look at him,” his wife replied, applying a gemstone finish to her fingernails with puckered up lips. “How could I be expected to let a darling like that just rot in the kennel?”
Louise turned away from his wife’s bobbing blonde curls and back to his newest mouth to feed. The normal yellow umbreon rings were split in half, fading with a gradient of shining neon blue. A rare and coveted ‘shiny’ variant that collectors had been turning to crime to obtain. Especially for a healthy breeding specimen like him. “I assume you intend to try and capitalize on this ‘investment’?”
“That ‘investment’ has a name,” Tenicia grumped as she applied mascara to her eyes. “And why not? It’s such a profitable venture.”
Louise reached for the pokemon’s gilded pink-suede collar, pinching its shining white-gold tag with shaking finger-and-thumb.
“Ricardo?” he shot with a sardonic, suspicious growl. “Isn’t that the gardener’s name?”
“EX-gardener, Louise. You fired them after finding some cheaper help.” Tenicia’s loaded bedroom eyes didn’t leave the mirror.
He loosened his tie as she turned the heat up on him. “I take it this is your way of requesting I get the man back in our employ?”
Ricardo gawked upward, heart wilting as he heard their bickering. Had these people taken him in as a joke?
“Your choice, as long as there’s some Ricardo around here making my day beautiful.”
The bejeweled ebony eeveelution gave a tilted half-smile at that.
Louise crouched down, clutching Ricardo's jaw to pry his mouth open, squinting as the pretty animal at his mercy whined with discomfort. “This one looks healthier than your last mistake, at least. Where did you get him, and how much has this nonsense cost me?”
“I bought him from Claude, babykins.”
His wife seemed dissatisfied with her husband’s acceptance of his new situation. “Claude, huh? That same trash you snagged that sassy ‘pink-thing’ from?
“He’s refundable, if you’re that upset. I could take him back today and there’d be no shortage of buyers.”
Ricardo’s head fell into the pillow with his paws pinned over his ears. He didn’t want to hear this anymore. In fact, he’d wanted to leave the room, but his new master had already told him to stay, right there, where the command switch was listening.
“What a wonderful idea, why don’t we both work out this ‘breeding program’ of yours, darling?” Louise offered with a subtle snideness in his smile. “Right now.”
Tenicia groaned with a tired sigh. “I’ve got to walk the pokemon darling.”
Louise was not deterred. “Why not let Cherry do that for us,” he offered, pointing to the dusty, undisturbed, gold-trim love-ball sitting in the loneliest corner of her vanity desk. “He gets so little time out these days, and they’ll get to know each other better!”
“Because you didn’t like his ‘tone’ and put him in ‘time-out’ until you said so.”
Louise cleared his throat. “Well then I say so!”
“Very well…” His wife gave a defeated groan, reaching for her old sylveon’s ball, and tossed it over her shoulder like a hand-full of spilled salt. “Cherry! I choose you!”
AIR! CARPET! PEOPLE! THE BLESSED LIGHT OF DAY!
“VeeEEE!” He zipped and zoomed around the moment his energies coalesced and snapped into place. His ribbons wound and threaded through the air as he bounced and chirped with a clinical case of the zoomies, happy to experience anything but the emotionless ego-broken nothingness of his pokeball.
It didn’t take long for him to settle down and take a lay of the love-salted land. The scars had healed since Claude had taken his pound of flesh, dressed in cold blood. But his body was still expected to run smooth and hot as whiskey-ice. For a price, you see.
And that price had been paid. This time, at least.
He stopped the exact moment he realized his clients were waiting for him to toe the line. These people didn’t like waiting, especially Louise. So he brushed that pesky tuft of fluff on his head out of his eyes, plopped his perky smack-ready butt down with a performative wag of the tail, and gave them that long enthusiastic “Sylllveeeeoooon!” with that otherworldly heart-throb chime he knew people liked so much.
So, so much.
The words didn’t mean anything, of course. Not to a pokemon’s ears, but it was human reactions that kept him rented out to this petty-ass bitch instead of the many hundreds of degenerate à-la-carte buyers just dying to bust a nut inside a sylveon’s asshole back ‘home’.
Tenicia was cheating on her husband, but the objects of her desire were rarely available. Like so many others, she turned to pokemon where desirable humans were in short supply, and he was the one with the brains to understand the assignment. She liked it lying in bed, eyes closed with him hiding in the sheets, crying other peoples’ names as he tied her arms up and fucked her to sleep.
And hey, it wasn’t every day; she wasn’t brave enough to practice pregnancy with the house-pets unless her husband was gone on business. Their home was amazing, the servants were nice, and they fed their pokemon well.
It was a vacation, really; a break from the humming, sucking, butt-pounding drum.
Tenicia smiled at his happy noises. That was good. Happy Tenicias paid their dues and kept him off the night-lighting menu.
“Darling, could you do mommy a big, sweet, super-duper, mega-important favor?” Tenicia said, laying the sugar on in industrial-grade wedding-cake layers.
He smiled, absolutely hating that the woman dared to call herself mommy to his face. “Yee-syl vee!” he replied, tail swaying with conscious clockwork ticks to let her know he was hers to command… for the month.
She pointed over to Ricardo, and his stomach dropped.
A second pokemon in his room? The eyebrows quirked, looking between them with a cheery but incredulous stare. “Yee-lee-vaaa?”
“Baaaby, mommy and daddy need to talk about important things for a while.”
Ricardo sniffed the air, panting as the pokemon caught wind of the newcomer, “Bre! Bre vee umbee eeveeon!” he called out, hoping to make a great impression with his new friend.
A sylveon?! He’d never seen one before and that made it even more cool.
Cherry’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
"Could you take Ricardo out for waaalkies?”
I’m sorry, you want me to ‘what’ now? He scanned the room with a long suspicious squint. Is somebody getting off to this? If they are, you’re paying extra, lady!
Ricardo leapt up, happy to have anything at all to distract him from the awkward domestic dispute kindling around him. “A friend?!”
Oh, brother, where’d the pimps dredge this doofus up? Cherry thought, hoping the guy’s dim-witted bowl-drinker routine was his schtick for the sick-headed types. “Chill out, fam. Save your energy for ‘Cum-Dumpster’ over here. It’s gonna be a long stint with me around.”
“W-what!?” Ricardo’s eyes went wide, jaw anvil-fallen. “Why would you say something like that? That’s so mean!” he guffawed with genuine sympathetic pain in his voice.
Cherry’s head turned with confusion churning around his face. “What? Were you raised under a– Oh… oh no!”
Did she— Is this woman trying to— Oh, gods, you poor thing!
“Sorry, old inside joke, really long story,” Cherry chirped back, his demeanor turning a complete 180 as he shot Ricardo a playful wink. “Why don’t we talk about it outside?”
Cherry turned to Tenicia before the waiting-grumbles started setting in, nodding with a giftmas-wrap chirp. “Eee! Eeveeoon!” he sorta-said, not wasting another second fetching their leashes from the dog-walking closet.
Yes, you read that right. The house's dedicated, step-in, air-conditioned closet, for storing dog walking supplies.
“C’mon, Ricardo,” he said, shuddering at the name with suspense tingling through his ribbons, clicking the latch of the boy’s pink leather lead as he cantered them towards the front door of their estate. “Let’s split before things get loud around here.”
Ricardo’s ears quirked as Cherry buckled a pair of pink-suede saddle-style bags to his back, marked with the handmade trademark artisan seal of some old leatherworker somewhere in rural Paldea.
“Loud? But, nobody's been yelling or nothing,” he mumbled with a subservient tilt of the neck, turning his head so Cherry could easily clip the lead on with his ribbons. So innocent. So trusting. “Not that I don’t wanna go out with you! I’ve been stuck in the house for ages.”
Cherry giggled at the ‘mon’s awkward unintended turn-of-phrase. “‘Go out’ with me, huh? We’ve only just met, sweet thing.”
He gasped at his own stupid gaffing tongue, blushing, bumping into the furniture as he tried and failed to escape. “OH! Oh, no no, gosh I didn’t mean that! Y-You’re a boy! That’d be weird!”
Cherry’s eyes went soft as bedroom sheets. “Never stopped me, cutie.”
Ricardo nearly walked face-first into the edge of an heirloom coffee-table leg as they made their way out into the fresh, Kalos, springtime air. “You’re allowed to do that?!”