WEEK 4: TENTACLES (Patreon)

HIIIIIII!!! FINALLY OMGFOMGFOMGOMFG I'm sorry that I made you guys vote for this one, but i HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!! I needed to get these brain worms out before I accidentally started writing it into every fic heheeh

OKAY I LOVE YOU!! THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME WRITE THIS ONE!!

WARNING: THIS COULD BE considered a little dubcon, considering that he's a monster under Y/N's bed and he followed her home, BUT Y/N is very much into it!!!! LOVES IT EVEN!!

(4.1k+ words)

i.

There’s a monster living under Y/N’s bed. 

She sort of had a feeling that something like this might happen to her. Either her bed or her closet; she’d spent many years of childhood doing carefully coordinated and borderline obsessive rounds before bed each night, making sure there was nothing waiting for her in the dark. Sometimes she’d enlist her parents' help, and sometimes she felt brave enough to look for herself. She never had a plan for what she’d do if she did find something. Y/N honestly just would rather know they were there than be startled in the middle of the night by a growl or a grumble. Like, she thought Mike and Sully were cool, but she didn’t necessarily need them lurking around in the shadows. 

Then she got older, and the obsessive checking diminished to just about nothing, though Y/N always made sure her feet were on the mattress and her closet door was shut tightly. These were normal things; she’d seen plenty of posts online about it because everyone is incapable of having an original experience or thought. Eventually, she forgot about it, but the habit of stuffing the underside of her bed with storage boxes and containers so nothing could fit under there stayed. And the monsters became less creepy ghouls and more like that dude on the subway who hasn’t really done anything to make her think he’s stalking her, but Y/N doesn’t like sitting beside him anyway. 

Believe it or not, though, she really isn’t that paranoid! That was the only thing she used to be that stressed out about, and even that wasn’t something she thought about often (unless she saw a particularly haunting scary movie). She’s usually pretty chill, actually – so calm about a lot of things that Niall keeps asking her if she injects herself with Lexapro before she starts her day every morning. 

So, when she starts feeling a tingling sensation on the back of her neck like someone. . .or something. . .is watching her – she pays no mind to it initially. It was definitely weird, but she and Niall had just done a hike through an allegedly “haunted” trail in the woods to maximize their spooky October season. At first, Y/N wasn’t convinced it was anything more than a couple of well-placed scary-looking trees, but they went on a day that was too sunny and beautiful to be very scary. The twigs they heard snapping usually accompanied a deer or a squirrel. Y/N’s heart raced more at the thought of a bear than a demon or something lurking and stalking them through the woods, slipping through the trees unseen. 

But ever since they left that morning, she just gets a weird chill now and then. Niall hasn’t mentioned anything about it, though, so she doesn’t think anything of it – why would only she be the one getting haunted if they both went? Plus, Y/N was like – way more respectful while they walked the trail, while Niall had been on and on about demon cock this and monster cum that. She only chuckled a couple of times, so that, in case there was anything that might take offense, they thought she was pretty cool and chill. 

And Niall isn’t someone who would keep a feeling like this to himself. Y/N gets almost minute-by-minute updates when there’s the slightest tickle in his throat, so if he suddenly started feeling like he was being stalked by something, he would mention it. So it must just be in her head, right? That’s what she suspected anyway. 

That was until she started having dreams. 

Y/N has always been a big dreamer, but she rarely ever took them seriously. It was always shopping, big puffy clouds that she kept sinking into but never through, being stuck in the ocean with just a life vest and no land in sight, avoiding a giant walking around a big amusement park, eating her body weight in pie – weird things that never made much sense. Half the time she remembers them for all of three seconds as soon as she wakes up, and then as the day progresses the memory of it gets foggier and foggier. 

But these dreams she’s been having lately are like. . .weird. Like she’s staring at herself sleeping, kind of weird. It didn’t feel like sleep paralysis – she was moving just fine. If she moved her hand in her dream, then she’d move her hand in real life, scratching her nose, pulling her arms around her body when she shivers from the cold. 

And she feels something warm and wet wrap around her ankle. She sees it too, with wide eyes, like a squid had slithered beneath her bed. Sure, she realizes she’s dreaming, but every time she wakes up, her skin on her ankle feels like something had just had something sticky and wet against it. Like there’s leftover dampness there. Y/N isn’t someone who really sweats a ton in her sleep, since she keeps her room at about subzero temperatures, and she certainly isn’t sweating around her ankles either. Which is odd. 

But when she peeks under her bed, she sees nothing there. Not as many storage boxes as she usually keeps, sure, and plenty of space for something or someone to fit under there, but. . .nothing was there. 

The first couple of times, she pretends like nothing is happening. Honestly, she just thought she was having a pervy dream or something. She and Niall had discussed at length maybe three-ish weeks ago how the older they get, the more they can see the appeal to tentacles being incorporated in the bedroom (they even ended the conversation with, ‘Welp, too bad that’s impossible’.). Around the fifth or sixth time, she stuffs a ton of things beneath her bed to keep anything from going under there in case it is. Then, that night, Y/N watches over her body to see the tentacle – she can make out that it’s a deep, bluish color – creep from the cracked door of her closet that she definitely had shut before going to bed. What the hell? Would it just go wherever it fit? And what was it doing exactly? 

But it was only ever a dream. She’d looked it up and saw things about incubi, some websites on witches, magical blood, and whatnot – nothing seemed to fit her situation, though. 

Then, one day, it happened when she wasn’t sleeping. 

She was just up on her phone. Y/N was lying on her back, belly up and vulnerable. Her feet don’t dangle off the bed; however, they are above the covers for now, until she feels the blood in them start to ice over. She wasn’t thinking about her weird dreams because her favorite band just had a merch drop, and now she was trying to decide if the shipping cost was worth it from the original site to get it earlier, or if she should use a secondary site for a little cheaper – but receive it later. There’s a video playing low on her telly, but she isn’t sure what it was right now, since it just autoplayed a playlist from her favorite streamer. There’s nothing in her head but merch and what she was going to eat later. 

And then something touches her ankle. 

Y/N gasps, shooting up with panicked eyes. Half of her expected to have imagined that, but when she looked down at her ankle, there was indeed something long and tendril-like slowly curling around her ankle. It was tentative, in a way – gentle, and exploratory. When she yanked her leg back, it flinched away for only a second, before pursuing her again, looping around it softly. 

“What the fuck –” she says it aloud, to herself – or so she thought. “What the fuck is this?” 

“Sorry,” a voice comes from under her bed, “Ugh, this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry. They like you.” 

Y/N’s breath does leave her lungs. Not in a scream – just like, all of the air zipped out of them in shock. Did it just speak to her? Wait – it’s never spoken to her in her dreams before. And then a second tentacle slithers from around the edge of her mattress and finds her other ankle, curling around it softly, gently, warmth pulsating through it. 

“Uh – who – what –” her brain is short-circuiting. She should probably be screaming, but she’s almost too alarmed to do so. Was she hallucinating? She must be, right? “Who are you? Is there – are you under my bed?” 

“Sorry,” the voice sounds suspiciously human, though whatever is happening with these tentacles is suspiciously not, “I am. I know you don’t want me under here, though, but it’s closest to you; it smells good.” 

She swallows hard, her heart racing, thundering in her chest. “Who are you?” 

“Harry,” he answers easily – a very human name. “You brought me with you from the forest.” 

Oh my god, it would somehow be Niall’s fault a little, wouldn’t it? What were the chances that his little haunted forest was actually haunted? And with a creature with tentacles, of all things? What the hell? Y/N’s brows curl. “I don’t really recall bringing anything with me from the forest?” 

“I don’t think you meant to, ah – but your body called out to me. . .to them. I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I know humans are not used to this. I came to you in your dreams first to make sure you weren’t too scared. Are you scared?” 

“I mean, I’m not – not scared?” She tilted her head, “Are you going to hurt me?” 

He gasps, and it’s so loud and so intense; she thinks it rattles underneath her bed. “No! Never! I would never ever hurt you. How could you ask me that? I would never,” he sounds so disturbed that she suggested it; she’s starting to feel embarrassed almost, “Humans are so delicate, like flowers — I never hurt flowers, and I never hurt humans. I am part human.”

“I’m so confused.” She rubs her head but keeps her eyes open, despite wanting to close them. “Can you…will you come out? It's weird speaking with you while you're under my bed.”

It – he – Harry – is silent for a little while. Long enough that Y/N starts suspecting that she really was hallucinating, but her hallucination dissipated because she’d asked to see it. Maybe she was just an auditory hallucination kind of girl? 

What she sees first is a hand. It’s a normal human hand, surprisingly, that reaches out and curls around the edge of her mattress. His pale fingers dig into her bedding, like he was dragging himself out into the open rather than slithering or something. Harry carefully pulls himself free, revealing a head – a head full of curly, unruly hair that curls around his ears. His head is also very human-like, though his eyes have no distinguishable sclera, irises, or pupils – it’s all just an inky black pool. His lips are drawn into a pouty frown, but he doesn’t look mad at all, or murderous. He just looks. . .worried? Sad? Sort of sweet, even, despite the eyes. His torso, his arms, and his legs are normal too, like any guy she would bump into on the street. 

The very un-human thing about him was the tentacles that emerged from his back. Like the ones she’d seen before, they were blue, at least 6 of them, undulating behind him. They were slick-looking tendrils, probably wet to the touch if the way they glistened in her lamp light was anything to go by. They didn’t move aggressively at all – though two of them do linger around the mattress, like they’re itching to wrap around her ankles again. 

He’s very pretty, which – not to conform to societal standards, but him being nice to look at and not a grotesque creature with a dripping maw makes this easier to swallow. Especially when he softly requests, “May I touch you?” In a voice so gentle, she wonders if he’d ever even killed a fly in his life. Wait, what does he eat? 

“Do you eat humans?” She inquires, though she doesn’t know what she’ll do with the information if he tells her. 

Once again, Harry looks aghast. “Are you listening to me? I don’t hurt humans!” 

“Okay,” she nods, “Okay, you can touch.” 

Y/N isn’t sure if she was agreeing to his hands or his tentacles, but both reach out. His human hands were warm to the touch – his fingers caressed her calf with the softest touch known to man, but it was immediately followed by the slick, wet feeling skating along in his wake. Everywhere they touch her, even if it’s just the tiniest tap of the tip, leaves a warmth pulsating through her body. It seeps in muscle-deep; though initially they feel cold and wet, it coils through her in something delightful. 

She’s having a hard time not figuring out where to look – whether it’s Harry’s awed face, or keeping track of where the tentacles are going. Eventually she does pick Harry’s face, who is already staring at her when she looks up. “They like you,” he repeats, “I like you.” 

“That’s. . .that’s why you followed me home?” She inquired, her heart hammering – can he hear it? “From the forest?” 

He pouts his mouth. “I’m not that big of a creep,” he murmured. “Humans don’t listen very well, do they? You brought me with you. Your body called out to me – I think you may have magic in your blood.” 

She swallowed thickly, head tilted. The tentacles stop at the edge of her shorts on either leg, curling around her thighs at the bottom. The heat is starting to get to her – was she really getting wet from this? Is she more of a pervert than she thought? It’s just. . .they feel good. They’re soft and slick and warm, like tongues almost, but smooth, moving with a mind of their own, almost. 

“I tried to ignore it,” he kept his lips, plush and full, sticking out, “Because I knew it would be scary to you, but there was a pull – it tugged me from my bed and made me follow you.” 

Was she sending out signals to monsters to follow her home all the time? Or was it just him? None of this makes sense, and it’s hardly any easier making sense of it when arousal starts to coil deep in her belly. A sweat is building up at her nape as the tentacles very carefully pull her legs apart. She doesn’t fight it – she lets them fall open as they slide away from her thighs and begin to curl into the waistband of her pajamas, “Are – is – is my body telling them to do this?”

Harry nods resolutely. “Yes,” he murmurs, “I can smell you – so can they.” 

“Is it. . .is it a good smell?” 

“It’s an amazing smell,” Harry sighs, crawling onto the bed and sitting on his knees between her open legs, “You want it so badly, and you don’t even know it. Your body craves to be filled and full. Humans are so cute. May I?”

Y/N has no idea what the hell he’s asking, but she finds herself nodding anyway. The shorts are pulled off by his tentacles, and Y/N is a little embarrassed that there is nothing beneath them. She likes to sleep without underwear some nights, if she can, to give her bits some time to breathe. Now she has a forest monster staring at her, spread open and dripping, and she’s feeling like maybe she should have been wearing some. He would’ve taken them off anyway, but she could’ve gotten a little used to being bare before this. 

His hands hold onto her ankles, two tentacles are coiling back around her thighs, and then another that had been waiting patiently for its turn slithers over her belly, around, coming from the top when it flickers a slippery, wet tip against her clit. Y/N gasps, hips trying to buck forward, but all the tendrils tighten around her, keeping her still. It should make her panic, but it only makes her throb more. What the fuck is happening? Why is she so into it? 

“A-ah,” she sighed, twitching again. The tentacles seemed wetter, somehow – she doesn’t know how this works, and if Harry stuck around after, she’d love for him to explain it, but her brain is horny mush right now. This is something out of a movie, or, well, porn, she guesses. It feels so weird and so, so good as it explores her slit. She’s still so warm wherever it touches, as it slides around the sides of her clit, before flicking over the engorged bud. Harry looks so concentrated, with flushed cheeks and dark eyes, eyes undeviating from the space between her legs. Y/N squeezes around nothing, more of her arousal starting to drip from her down to her bum. 

Y/N isn’t sure when the other one came from around his back, but she feels the tip of something slimy and hot circling her entrance. She gasps when it slips inside her, going from narrow to something fatter, broader, and she’s so relaxed all over that it eases in perfectly. It pulses inside of her, stretching her so full that she thinks she might be able to feel him in her throat. His eyes flutter as it licks around her walls, finding her G-spot and stroking against it incessantly. 

“Can – can you feel?” Y/N somehow moves her mouth to ask, “Can you feel them? What they feel?” 

He swallows hard, nodding. “Very intensely,” he answers, “They’re excited. You feel so good.” 

Y/N’s curiosity gets the better of her when she peeks down to find he does have a bulge in his boxers. What he could be hiding in there, she has no clue, but it looks thick and heavy, and it makes her shudder. That, plus the way he starts circling her clit while the tentacle inside of her starts to fuck in and out. She reaches out her hand, and as if they read her mind, another tentacle comes to meet her halfway. It slides between her fingers, slithering like a snake. When she pets the tip of it with her thumb, Harry moans loudly and unabashedly. A string of whatever was sticky and wet on it clings to the pad of her thumb when she taps against it, pulling away. 

As if they were even more excited, they started moving quicker. Y/N is so overwhelmed she thinks she could explode. The orgasm building up inside of her is intense and unavoidable. Not that she thinks Harry would tell her that she couldn’t. It burns from the tips of her toes, and she twitches against him again. His mouth is hung open like hers, his calloused fingers digging into her calves, “I’m – ngh –” 

“Oh, yes, yes,” he hums, “You are squeezing me so tightly.” 

“I’m going to cum,” she whines, “I don’t – never this fast –” 

“Humans are so cute,” he says again, dreamy, “Your body is so lewd and so pretty. Look how you tremble? It is so precious to me.” 

Y/N is always a sucker for praise, and he just keeps acting like she’s the sweetest little thing he’s ever seen. She shakes through her orgasm – it tears out of her from deep in her belly, and a reverberating groan follows it. The tentacles keep pulsing inside of her, and Harry holds her so sweetly and tightly her toes can’t stop curling. It’s so deliciously good, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Bucking against him doesn’t work, but still her body fights to, and he coos at her softly, his fingers caressing her skin. 

She’s breathless and sensitive as one stays inside of her. Harry has at least some knowledge of the human body, she thinks, because he slips the one that was licking over her clit away to pet softly over her belly. The other stays inside of her, keeping her stretched wide and open, pulsing rhythmically inside of her. 

When she regains some of her feeling in her hands, she reaches out and tugs at the waistband of his pants. It’s funny to her now that she’s all orgasm loose and sleepy, that a forest monster like Harry would be wearing clothes. He is half human, after all, whatever that means. He seems to carry shame in his own naked body, when she plucks at the button. 

“Can you?” She asks, motioning, “Do you – when you use yours, do they feel it?” 

“We feel everything together,” he murmurs softly, “We like you.” 

Y/N twitches around him, “Want to feel you too.” 

Harry uses his hands to carefully pop open the button of his trousers. He eases them down his hips, and reveals a very human-looking cock. A very large, human-looking cock, that makes her mouth fall open and drool pool under her tongue. The tentacle inside of her slips out, leaving a trail of whatever lubricant coats it and Y/N’s juices to follow. It curls around his cock as if to slick it up and leaves it as dripping and sticky as it. It looks so angry – a pretty red tip, like it was upset that it was just now getting a turn. 

“Your hole is so tight,” he murmurs, taking hold of the base and tapping it against her swollen, puffy pussy, “You must relax to take me, okay?” 

She nods, but feels like she’s gaping at him anyway, with how big the tentacle had been. The head pops inside of her with some resistance, but feels so different that Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head. The tentacle had been more malleable and soft, noodly, almost. Harry’s prick is hard – unrelenting. It fills her up in a whole new way entirely; one she thought she’d be used to, but so isn’t. He throbs inside of her, sinking in until he bottoms out and his balls are snug against her bum. Nestled full and tight. His tentacles refuse to be left out, though, returning to her clit and the others wrapping around her thighs. Two more slither up her arms, and the tips of them kiss at each of her fingertips. Y/N curls her fingers around them, and Harry shudders once again, full-bodied. 

“Ohh, yes,” he whines, “Delicious. This is very delicious.” It circles her sensitive, swollen button as Harry begins to rock his hips, “You suck me in. You were meant to be stuffed full by me.” 

So possessive, so purred – he feels good; she knows it, she can tell. And for whatever reason it fills her with an odd sense of pride. Harry rolls his hips like someone who has done it before, and she doesn’t know what to think of that. Does he do this often? What is the dating pool like in the forest? Are there other monsters in there? Does he only fuck humans? 

The tentacles don’t hold her legs down, almost like they could sense she was raising them to curl around his hips to pull him closer. They squeeze around her, encouraging. The one that slithers and slicks around her clit is so consistent that her mind can barely keep up. Her brain feels full of cotton, soft and fuzzy – so warm all over, but it’s a pleasant heat. Even more so when there’s a tentacle that has suddenly pressed against her bum, finding its way between her cheeks. It circles her furled hole, just barely pressing in. Y/N cries out, squeezing the tentacles that have stroked against her palm as she shakes through an orgasm that sneaks up on her. He fucks her through it, and continues to move. 

“I will make you cum many times before I do,” he promises her, “My stamina surpasses that of anyone you’ve slept with before.” 

Y/N sputters out a laugh, a small tugging at her mouth. Maybe it was stupid to be doing this, but it felt really good. So inhumanely good, that Y/N doesn’t know how she’s going to be without it, honestly. And she’s kind of starting to think the tentacles are pretty cute, swirling around her, making her feel good, liking to be squeezed and touched. She wants to touch more of them, and more of Harry too. She wants to do this all night, until she’s dripping and useless, fucked so dumb that she can’t think at all. 

“Yeah,” she nods, “Yeah, make me cum, as much as you want.”