Shortfic about the supreme suffering of my life lmao, 554 words
gorey’s been having a lot of conflict between his surprise new libido and the fact that he keeps hurting himself and it’s really difficult to not JO even though his dick hurts
so enjoy this fic I guess
You know you're not supposed to. He told you not to. And you feel the immense guilt of his disappointment as you rub yourself off against a pillow, face pressed into his sweater for his scent, and to muffle the soft, desperate whines from your throat. You need it, you need to come. You cling tight to his sweater and jerk your hips, squeezing around the pillow between your legs.
You don't hear him come in. You're too worked up to realize anyone else is home, but you hear his voice, low and firm, "What do you think you're doing?" Another moan catches in your throat, and your hips twitch even through the ashamed heat in your cheeks as you keep humping the pillow. You're so close, you need it—
You stiffen when his hand squeezes around the back of your neck, a firm, reassuring, expectant touch. He's here now, properly, and you whimper with need as you stop. "I thought I told you not to touch yourself," he says, low. Not angry, but you still whine, knowing how you've disappointed him.
"I didn't," you tell him, and earn a soft chuckle. Technically, you haven't. But you've still been bad. "I can't help it, I need to," you continue, whining pathetically. You don't dare move now, not with his hand against your spine, but your hooded cock aches to be touched. "Please."
He sighs. His other hand eases you up, off the pillow, and over onto your back, and he sits down the bed a little. His hands feel cool against your thighs, sweating and quivering, and spread you apart gently, like you're still worth his time after such a bald defiance. "You need to rest. Remember how you hurt yourself last time? I don't want you to become desensitized, pet."
You look away, flushing. You know that. It's always for your own good, but... "I can't help it. I'm always horny. I need to come, please." The whine is so clear that even you find yourself a little annoyed, but he doesn't seem to mind. His fingers slide up your thighs to touch you gently, sparking arousal as he inspects you.
"You are pretty slick already," he admits, fingers sliding in the arousal of your dick slit. "And your little cock looks so hungry for attention." He rolls back the skin then, exposing your head, and you whine out another pleading word as his thumb slides across it. "Poor thing," he sighs at last, moving up to kneel between your legs so that his knees force you further apart. Fingers of his other hand ease into your cloaca, sliding easily on your slick. Your fingers reach up to wrap around a bar of the headboard, whining out his name as he pushes into you. "My poor little monster, can't even stop himself coming for one day, eh?"
"I'm sorry," you say, but it's halfhearted at best; you're so close to coming, your hips jerk against his fingers. "I won't do it again."
He laughs again. You both know that's not a promise you can keep. "Guess we'll have to find a way to keep you from hurting yourself, this time," he says with a playful voice, and thumbs the head of your cock again. "I'll take care of you, little monster, don't worry."
