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Propped up on the counter, your thighs just inches away from your own chest.
and Cyrus between them.
You had no idea how you got into this situation.
About half an hour ago, you were busy cooking dinner for your house pokemon. It was a task you performed every afternoon as soon as you were done working countless hours as the champion of the Sinnoh region.
You felt a presence behind you, one that you had grown used to it not making itself known. Instead, he had developed a habit of sneaking up on you— although always unintentionally. Cyrus was a welcome addition to your home full of Pokémon already in need of rehabilitation. And to put it lightly, Cyrus was no different.
He was short-spoken and blunt, but enjoyed it when you listened. It was also worth mentioning that ever since you had saved him from the distortion world and invited him to your house, the two of you had become increasingly inseparable. It got to the point where you had a small fear that he was developing separation issues due to the fact that he would refuse to free you from cuddling sessions when you had to go to work. Cuddling sessions where you acted more like his weighted blanket than his not-exactly-confirmed partner.
It was hard letting him go every day, but you were sure the several cuddly Pokémon that roamed your home would keep him company in ways you couldn't. Nevertheless, he clung to you out of what you could only assume was a fear of being apart from human presence, like he was in the distortion world.
Soon enough, cuddling wasn't meeting his standards. But kissing only came up because you had shyly asked to try it. The two of you, in all truthfulness, weren't that intimate of a couple. Since you and Cyrus were already a strange pair, you came with strange attributes. Due to this, it came as a surprise when he said…yes.
It only took a couple of gentle pecks for him to become what you felt was “addicted”. Cyrus craved the warmth of another human, but specifically yours. The touch of your lips was warmer than anything, and it made him tingle all over. It made him feel alive for the first time in years.
And when he appeared behind you, a gentle yet calloused hand on your arm, you already knew what he wanted. You turned the cast-iron pot of food on low as you turned around, tilting your head at him.
“Is something the matter, Cyrus?” You questioned, your voice gentle as it always was when you spoke to him.
He only responded with a curt, “Come here.”
It wasn't exactly an order, more like his way of asking for intimacy. And so you happily obliged, leaning towards him. Almost immediately, his lips connected with yours, soft kisses being placed on your lips with small spaces in between to breathe. Cyrus, as expected, kept his eyes open. You had asked him about this, and he had no problem admitting that he liked to watch you. Watch your expression. And you found it endearing in its own weird way.
It wasn't often that the two of you devolved into deeper kisses, but this was just one of those nights where he needed that extra spark to remind him he was human. And so he pushed deeper, placing a hand on your shoulder as he held you steady. Cyrus needed to taste more. Feel more. Be felt. And as of recent, it was all he thought about despite his desperate attempts to get his mind off of it.
A soft moan slipped from your lips, breathy and almost unable to be picked up by normal people. But Cyrus was so far from that definition that it would be more accurate to call a Gastly a grass type. The sound you emitted drove him wilder than he imagined it would, especially since it was rare for you to make such sounds whenever the two of you kissed. And so he pushed harder.
The sound of tongues dancing against eachother faintly echoed through the kitchen as You panted through each kiss. He caught your lips in a lock, kissing at them harder and harder, all while attempting to taste each square inch of your mouth. You were sure there was saliva coating the rim of your lips by now. Each moment you would take to catch your breath was followed by an attempt by Cyrus to devour you whole. And it was making your head spin. He wasn't usually like this, which only made more whimpers fly from your mouth.
You were pushed farther against the counter until you were sitting on top of it. Cyrus only brought himself closer, the smallest of groans leaving his mouth before it was stifled by another kiss. It wasn't long before you noticed he was experiencing a very normal human response to roughly making out with someone.
Now, that would have been normal if it weren't for the fact that you and Cyrus had never done anything past kissing. Hell, up until a couple of weeks ago, the two of you hadn't even moved past cuddling. You didn't even think sex was on the table, especially after what he had been through. Nevertheless, you looked him in the eyes to gauge his reaction as his feverish kisses slowed.
It was always a surprise to see how devoid of emotion Cyrus was. It was as if blood simply failed to rush to his cheeks, only a couple of beads of sweat adorning his pale skin. But you could see a tinge of want in his pale blue eyes.
“Cyrus, do you want to?” You whispered, making sure he wanted to move forward. His response was a simple nod, which, despite its simplicity, made your breath hitch.
Cyrus was quick to position you, taking your thigh and pushing it upwards towards your chest in a way you didn't even know you could bend. You could only assume all of those Pokémon yoga classes paid off. It only took you a second to blink back into reality, as you had blanked for a moment, unable to process that you and Cyrus were really doing it. Fast.
Your breathing began to accelerate as he reached down to unbutton his pants before zipping down the fly. He helped you pull down your pants just enough so that you were bare bottom against the counter, but your pants still clung to your lower thighs and calves. Cyrus moved closer towards you, his breath hot on your neck as he positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance. It was only then that it clicked for you— You were still cooking.
You let out a small gasp as your trembling hand reached for the wooden spoon beside the pot, which was at the cusp of bubbling over, needing to be stirred. And all that Cyrus offered in support was a soft,
“Focus.”
Before pushing in. You let out a choked moan as your hand immediately landed on his shoulder, gripping his shirt. Cyrus, in his own cruel way, was enjoying watching you suffer a little bit. But the truth was, with every thrust of his cock into you, with every slam of his hips against yours, he felt something he hadn't felt in years. Humanity.
It was a strange revelation to only feel human again from such acts. But he couldn't avoid it. Each touch, from an accidental brush of your finger to railing you on the kitchen counter, brought him out of his head and into the real world. You grounded him in a way he didn't understand— or perhaps refused to understand in fear of the truth that you, in your own stupid way, were rehabilitating him. And Cyrus couldn't get enough of it.
He thrusted harder, enthralled by each sound you made, each shiver that was sent up your spine that only made him grip you harder. The hand that pushed against your thigh to keep it up temporarily shifted down to your rear to pull you closer to him on the counter. All so he could shove himself deeper inside of you. It was all so addicting. He leaned forward once more to place his lips against yours, lapping up every drop of saliva that slipped from your lip. And it was at that moment that Cyrus realized he couldn't stop till he tasted every bit of you.
You leaned against him, gripping the back of his shirt as you rested your head on his shoulder. You couldn't help but moan almost pathetically as you gave up completely on the food in substitution for the man currently rearranging your insides. Your legs slowly drifted down from the position he had pushed them in as you wrapped them around his waist. As he refocused his attention on your neck, there wasn't a single moment of rest between thrusts as he pounded you into the kitchen counter with not even a hint of mercy.
After a good 30 minutes You were a trembling mess, having come already. You were sure your fluids were already leaking down the kitchen counter onto the floor as he fucked your body in such a persistent manner. His cock drilled into you at inhumane speeds, chasing that spark of human intimacy he could only find inside of you. Each repetitive plunge into you sent shivers through his whole body, his shaft tingling with desire to be nowhere else but inside of you.
By then, you had shut off the burner as tears rolled down your cheeks. You were a mess, moaning and whimpering his name in beautiful, harmonious bliss that filled his mind and heart to completion. There wasn't a second the methodical man lost his rhythm as he began to speed up. You were fading in and out of reality at that point, clinging to him as your only form of support.
Finally, Cyrus came deep inside of you, his balls aching and twitching for the release he had been starving himself of for months, if not years. He pressed himself flat against you, ensuring each and every drop was secure inside of you. His soft, breathy groans filled your ears as he rested his head next to your left ear, each sound flying from his lips with every rope of come he released inside of you.
Finally, Cyrus finished filling you as he stayed there for a couple of seconds more, relishing in the moment he wished never had an end.
You let him stay there for a couple of seconds more, kissing at his jaw and cheek, before looking at him with dazed eyes.
“I gotta feed my Pokémon.”
Was all you said. And all it took for him to pull out, cock wet and glistening from being inside of you. He helped you off the counter, pulling up your pants as you regained your composure. You were grateful he was such a silent but helpful housemate, because as soon as you walked— moreso wobbled— over with the pot to feed each Pokémon, he was already wiping down the counter that he had just railed you against.
And still, you both ended up cuddling like usual, with you on his lap like his personal weighted blanket. But this time we were closer in more ways than one.