Chapter Text
“Shit, that’s - ahh - a lot.”
It had started off fine. Had started pretty fucking nice actually. Ed’s tentacles are slick, covered in some sort of mucus that leaves sticky streaks along Jack’s skin as they tangle around his limbs and slip inside him. They’re demanding in the fun way that Ed can be - pushy and needy, dragging Jack’s attention with sharp little sucks that leave purpling bruises into his skin. But they’ve got Ed’s moods too. Quick to change, keen with their violence; playful love bites turn painful on a knife's edge. Their gentle easing into Jack’s hole suddenly scorches, spearing him open when they get bored of waiting for Jack’s body to relax around their thickening shape.
“Said you could take it, didn’t you?” Ed scoffs.
Jack strains to adjust, props himself up onto his elbows, tries to ignore the ache in his cunt as the tentacles shift inside him. “Nah, handling it fucking fine, mate.”
Jack winks, slips his hand round the closest tentacle and makes to wank it off. The tentacle twists out his fist easily, clamps round his wrist and pins it, in one quick, smooth motion. It’s enough to make him lose his balance, falling backwards, stuck staring at the ceiling as Ed’s tentacles knot around his limbs.
Right. It’s that sort of mood, then.
Jack feels his hold slipping away; a heavy, unsettled feeling in the base of his stomach as he loses grip on the rope of Ed's mood. He swallows, grasps for anything that might suture the spiral. “Kinky, nice. You wanna roleplay? Could go for some damsel in distress ravaged by the scary sea monster. ”
The tentacles tense. It’s brief. A momentary spark of pain as the give and bend turns rigid before it’s gone, pulling the air out the room with it.
“Yeah,” Ed says, the flash of something underlying his words, “you gonna cry like a damsel too?”
“Sure, if that gets you off, mate.”
Ed doesn’t reply. It’s a plotting silence. Heavy and foreboding and has Jack gnawing on the inside of his cheek, trying to think of anything to shift the helpless feeling growing in his chest.
The tentacles start thickening. Pulsing. An ebb and flow like the ocean swelling towards a tidal wave. It builds that toomuchtoosoon ache that has Jack arching into it. They fill him, the grasp and release of suckers inside Jack make him clench and tense with the pressure of an orgasm, but with none of the relief. It’s a tipsy feeling; knowing you’re one drink away from tumbling into drunkenness but the bottle's empty. A gap he can’t breach, an orgasm he can’t quite reach.
Jack writhes. Hips twitching in messy circles, fucking himself onto Ed’s tentacles, trying to find the right angle, the perfect friction, to tip him over the edge.
“Shit, you can’t even pretend to be a virgin,” Ed says, amused. “Look at the way you’re stretched out.”
Ed’s tentacles move Jack like he weighs nothing; sits him up so he can see where they are fucking into him. They move slow, sluggishly, drag across Jack’s labia as they thrust in and out.
Jack fucking whines . A noise in the back of his throat, high pitched and reedy. It sends a hot wave of humiliation across his cheeks. An overpowering ache of embarrassment at how desperate the sight of his body being carved wide makes him. He watches as the suckers catch on the edge of his hole as they push in and tug out, the way he's leaking down the side of the tentacles, completely soaked across his pubes and thighs.
Another tentacle creeps up his leg, slides along the wet mess of Jack’s fluids and the tacky tentacle mucus. It teases at his entrance, rubs against his cock as it tries to push in alongside the other. Jack keens, digs his nails into his palm until his hands tremble with the effort not to cry out. It’s so fucking much and Ed isn’t easing up, just watching with that eager, white-toothed wicked smile as he pushes into Jack’s body.
“Man, you fucking like this?” Ed teases; the tentacle breaches and Jack groans. “You’re like a dog in heat. Fucking gushing.”
“Is that all you’ve got?” Jack manages to croak out; hopes that he can hide the way his cunt is clutching desperately around every fucking millimetre. But his voice comes out wet. Snotty. Like he’s been fucking crying. It makes Ed snap to Jack’s face; a shark smelling blood in the water.
Ed laughs, sharp and cruel. “Nah, mate. Think I might put a brood in that cunt.”
The thought of being forced to take it - of being pumped full, left splayed open and fucked wide until he’s plump with eggs, pliant to the whims of Ed’s tentacles - makes Jack whimper.
“Whaddya think, Jackie? Gonna let me breed you?”
The sound that falls out Jack’s mouth is an unmistakable, “Yes,” no matter how broken and limp it sounds on Jack’s tongue.
“Good boy,” Ed coos, his hand reaching forward to rub against Jack’s cock for the first time since the tentacles came into play, blessing Jack with a whip-crack of an orgasm. The intensity of it coils his body up against the grip of the tentacles, leaves him spiked with pleasure so intense that his muscles tremble and vision blurs with tears so thick that he barely sees the bulge travelling down the tentacle until it’s pushing against his speared open cunt. “Got a whole brood to lay.”