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On screen, the characters Moon Jaein and Kim Hyunsoo cry together in the rain, umbrellas dropping to the concrete sidewalk in slow motion. “Jaein-ah,” Hyunsoo whispers, large hands cupping Jaein’s face. She gazes up at him with wet, pink cheeks and watery eyes. “I love you. I always have. Please, please don’t marry Yoonseok. Please wait for me.”
Jaein turns away and sniffles, wiping tears and raindrops from her skin. She looks down at her feet, lets out a shaky breath, and meets Hyunsoo’s eyes again. “I’m sorry, I -- I can’t. Our fathers have already approved it. It’s done, oppa. I’m sorry.” She cleans her face again, with her sleeve. “But,” Jaein says, with a sad smile. “We aren’t married yet. I can still give you this.” Then, she leans on her tiptoes and kisses Hyunsoo on the cheek. With this comes several dramatic replays, and next to him, Seungmin can feel Jisung squirm.
“Seungminnie,” Jisung whines, turning his entire body into Seungmin’s space to nuzzle his face against Seungmin’s throat. Sprawled out on the floor below them, where they are sitting on the couch, Jeongin sighs and raises the volume on the drama they’re watching. “I want a kiss, too.” There’s the press of tiny kisses across his skin, and Seungmin can’t help the fond little laugh that escapes.
He shoves at Jisung’s shoulder. “If it gets you off of me,”
Jisung puckers up annoyingly, immediately moving further into his space. Seungmin recoils, which only serves to encourage Jisung to climb onto his lap. Despite not really intending for this to happen, Seungmin’s hands automatically fall to Jisung’s waist to steady him. He isn’t exactly upset about this outcome, though. It isn’t like he, or any of them, can really resist Jisung when he asks for kisses, even Jeongin, when Jisung bothers him enough. Seungmin still has to roll his eyes to upkeep his reputation, but he doesn’t resist when Jisung leaves a kiss on both corners of his mouth, then presses their lips together properly.
The way that Jisung seems to relax into kisses is so endearing. It’s as if he goes a little brainless each time, no matter the intention of the kiss, if it’s quick or if Jisung is wanting to take it further. This kiss is innocent so far, in that Seungmin doesn’t think that they’ll have to retreat to his bedroom, but he can feel Jeongin’s scalding eyes on them anyway. Jisung pulls away momentarily, if only to grin at Seungmin with his heart-shaped smile. Seungmin grins back of course, fingers slipping just under the hem of Jisung’s hoodie and the shirt underneath, just to get a touch of his warmth.
“Are we going to have to ask Jeongin to pause?” He asks, for no reason other than to tease Jeongin a little.
“ No ,” Jeongin says. Seungmin can’t see him around Jisung, but he’s certain their baby is glaring holes through the back of Jisung’s head.
“Just one more,” Jisung confirms, but Jeongin sighs again, slumping dramatically to the floor. It’s never ‘just one more’.
“Hmm. If you say so,” he says, unbelieving.
Jisung nods, but his grin, as he leans back in, tells Seungmin no. “I say so.”
Something slick, then, curls around the back of Seungmin’s neck, pulling him closer, and he blinks at Jisung, who blinks right back at him in a caricature of innocence. Jisung’s hands are still fisted in Seungmin’s sweater. “Really?” He murmurs. Jisung huffs out a laugh, breath fanning over Seungmin’s lips.
“It wanted to!” Seungmin isn’t sure he believes Jisung here, either, and he’s becoming concerned about where Jisung’s five other tentacles are headed. Jisung’s intentions are appearing more and more corrupt as the seconds tick by. Not that he hates them, of course, but -- he had already showered today, and Seungmin isn’t in the mood to shower again just to wash Jisung’s slick out of his hair.
“Please get off of my neck,” he requests, and after a moment, the tentacle retreats, but hovers in Seungmin’s periphery. Jisung frowns, and Seungmin’s stomach swoops uncomfortably. He didn’t mean to hurt Jisung’s feelings at all, but it happens sometimes, between Seungmin’s bluntness and Jisung’s sensitivity. “I’m sorry,” Seungmin apologises, hands leaving Jisung’s waist to cup his cheeks. “I just don’t want to wash my hair again.”
Jisung furrows his eyebrows then. “No, you’re okay, I’m just…? I didn’t do that.”
Seungmin tilts his head, confused, palms falling to Jisung’s hips. “What do you mean?”
“Like,” Jisung shifts on Seungmin’s lap, pulling away just a bit to stare at the tentacle, still poised next to them. “That was them , not me. I didn’t like, make it go away, it did that by itself?” Seungmin looks at it too, curiously. If Jisung isn’t actively controlling them, his tentacles usually have a mind of their own, so if Jisung did not pull his tentacle away himself, then it really must have done it on its own.
Jeongin laughs from below them. “Since when have your tentacles ever listened to us, hyung? Maybe it just wanted to.”
“Um,” Jisung says. “It’s not that they don’t listen to you. I don’t listen to you.”
Jeongin scoffs. “So true. You are a brat.”
“Not always!”
“Not to Chan -hyung,” Seungmin amends.
“ So true ,” Jeongin agrees. Two against one.
Jisung throws his hands up, rolling off of Seungmin’s lap, back to his side of the couch. “Ugh! Whatever, that’s not even the point right now. My tentacles have never done this before. They don’t even listen to my mom!”
“You guys are so -- can we please just continue watching? Please?” Jeongin buries his face in his hands.
Jisung ignores him. “Tell them to do something else, I wanna see what happens.”
“We’re gonna have to rewind!” Jeongin cries, but Seungmin just ignores him too. If this is a completely shocking revelation to Jisung, then it is just as intriguing to Seungmin.
“Has this really never happened before?” he asks. Jisung shakes his head at him, wide-eyed, dark hair flopping around.
“Whenever we um, do things, you’re just talking to me about them, not like, too them. Even my mom would be like, ‘put them away, we’re at the grocery store!’ not ‘ go away , we’re at the grocery store.’ So like … it’s different?”
Seungmin thinks about it for a moment and -- yeah, Jisung is right. He can’t really recall a moment where they’ve directly commanded Jisung’s tentacles before. To Seungmin, at least, he views Jisung’s tentacles as just a part of him, not their own entity. They’ve made it clear since pre-debut that his tentacles didn’t make Jisung any different , besides just having them at all, so Seungmin assumed that maybe it would have been disrespectful to speak to them, and not Jisung. He doesn’t think any of them has ever considered doing so.
“Say something again, hyung, hurry up!” Jeongin is now turned towards them, at least.
He isn’t sure how Jisung’s tentacles will understand he’s talking to them, but -- “You can touch my…thigh.” He decides. All three of them stare at Seungmin’s lap, to watch two of Jisung’s tentacles slither over his sweats.
“Uh, that wasn’t me either. What the hell?” The tentacles don’t move from his thighs, but squirm, caressing them. Jisung appears really confused for a moment then shrugs, flopping back into the cushions. “Okay. This is a thing I guess. Let’s keep watching. I have a feeling Yoonseok is gonna find out about this and it won’t be pretty.”
“Huh,” Jeongin says absently, already turning away to press play. “We are absolutely going to use this against you, baby.” It’s way too casual for the sort of discovery this seems to be.
Seungmin wishes he could have stopped thinking about this moment as quickly as it had come.
🦑
It’s surprisingly quiet, when Seungmin steps into the other dorm. He suspected that Chan would be awake still, at the very least, if not Hyunjin, too. When he peers down the hallway, no light shines from underneath any of the doors, except Chan’s, which is cracked open into his dark room partially lit by the softened purple LED lights. Seungmin doesn’t remember him texting their group chat that he would be in the studio, but maybe Chan had just forgotten, he had before. Changbin is at Seungmin’s dorm, doing whatever with Minho, but Seungmin isn’t sure where Hyunjin is. It’s not like it really matters, they’ve never had to clear out the whole dorm for something like this.
Seungmin realises he forgot to take his shoes off, but they’re just sandals so he goes back to the entryway and slips them off, not bothering with slippers. Their dorm is a little messy, hoodies strewn across the back of their couch, dishes in the sink. He can’t help but pull a little disgusted face. Poor Hyunjin, having to live in this mess. If he looks at it for too long, he gets the urge to tidy, but Seungmin wants what he came here for, so he pads down the hallway and stops in front of Jisung’s room.
He slowly opens the door, lifting it by the knob to keep the hinges from creaking too loudly. Once inside, he clicks Jisung’s bedside lamp on, illuminating his sleeping figure in a soft yellow light, wrapped in his sheets. Jisung had fallen asleep watching something on his phone it seems, his hand still loosely holding onto it even as his muscles have relaxed. The video is still playing, some American show that Seungmin has seen clips of online, but never actually watched. He gently pries the phone from Jisung’s hand and puts it on the charger, then pulls Jisung’s desk chair over to the bedside. He must have fallen asleep very recently.
It feels a little creepy to sit here watching Jisung sleep like this, but it’s all a part of the process. This isn’t the first time that Seungmin, or any of them really, have woken Jisung up like this, but it will be the first time that Jisung’s own tentacles do. Normally, Seungmin would just crawl onto the bed and start , but the entire point of this, at least at first, is for him to watch .
Seungmin opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. He’s not quite sure where to start. Would it be easier to undress him first? Jisung is so used to being jostled around while he’s sleeping that it doesn’t usually wake him up right away. Seungmin figures he’ll at least take Jisung’s shirt off. He’s sure the tentacles can slide his shorts off just fine. He carefully untangles Jisung from his sheets and is pleasantly surprised to find that he already isn’t wearing a shirt. Seungmin pats Jisung’s head to thank his subconscious for its foresight, and plops back onto the chair.
Jisung is lying on his side, facing Seungmin, so he can’t see the small slits along his spine, the skin mottled a deep blue where Jisung’s tentacles come from. It isn’t like they tested to see if Jisung’s tentacles would listen to Seungmin while he was asleep, so when Seungmin tentatively whispers, “Come out,” he isn’t shocked that nothing seemed to happen.
From what he knows, Jisung has full control of his tentacles whenever he wants, but when he isn’t paying attention to them, they do whatever they desire, or listen to his subconscious. If the tentacles hear through Jisung, then they likely aren’t going to obey Seungmin while Jisung is asleep, but he wonders — will they listen if Seungmin effects Jisung’s subconscious? Seungmin is smart, but he is not a scientist.
He has never spoken directly to Jisung’s tentacles before, at least since before earlier today. When he did, he gave direct commands, but they were active. He isn’t sure it will work the same when they are retreated into Jisung’s back. Seungmin doesn’t exactly know what to call them, so he hopes that vague requests still do the trick.
“Come out,” he calls again, louder, but not enough to wake Jisung. Seungmin doesn’t see any movement, but there’s a faint wet sound, from behind Jisung. Good, that’s progress. The area of Jisung’s spine where his tentacles protrude from usually slicks when they prepare to come out. Seungmin settles into the chair now that he’s almost certain this will work. Normally, he isn’t this quick to get worked up when he’s in this sort of mindset, but something about what he has planned seems to excite him more than usual. Maybe it’s the weirdness of it all, teetering just on the right edge of a little fucked up. Everyone here is a little weird and a little fucked up, and Seungmin likes them way more than he should. He’s already half hard, although nothing of significance has happened, but he wants to stay clothed for now, so he just adjusts himself to be a little more comfortable.
A minute passes, and Seungmin debates calling out to them again, when the first deep blue tentacle rises over Jisung’s sleeping body, glistening with slickness. He had hoped that all of them would come out, but one should do for now.
“Good,” Seungmin praises, figuring that if Jisung likes it, they will too. “Touch him, anywhere.”
The tentacle hovers for another moment, as if it’s trying to decide, then swoops down to Jisung’s chest, flopping onto his skin with a wet smack. Seungmin cringes, half expecting Jisung to rouse, but he only rolls his shoulder back towards the mattress, opening his chest further. For the first time, surprisingly, Seungmin wonders if Jisung stayed sleeping because he’s used to this -- if his tentacles have done this before, at night. Will this be so normal that it won’t even faze Jisung? If his body is already so accustomed to the wet touch of his tentacles, will it register the rubbery skin, the slime? Or -- is Jisung just so used to the tentacles touching him in his sleep that even the most unusual sensations no longer awaken him. Is he going to wake up stuffed full, wondering who it is this time, only to open his eyes and find nothing but his own tentacles? Already, Seungmin can imagine Jisung’s eyes growing big, overruling the lethargy that threatens to keep his eyelids half-closed.
Suddenly, Seungmin finds himself a lot harder than he was just a moment ago. He needs to stop thinking and focus, because either way, he doesn’t want Jisung to wake up too early.
“Not too hard,” he commands quietly. “Gentler. He shouldn’t wake until later.”
The tentacle seems to obey for now, or it’s a coincidence that it decides then to slow to a crawl along the planes of Jisung’s chest, firmer since he’s started going to the gym again. Along Jisung’s spine, where the tentacles protrude from, is where they are the thickest. They taper to a rounded point at the ends, perfect for precise searching and wrapping around small things, as they were likely meant for when Jisung’s species was first created. In this case, they are excellent at poking and prodding with intent, flicking over the rosy bud of his nipple, hardened after Seungmin had mercilessly ripped Jisung’s covers away. It glistens when the tentacle pulls away momentarily to carefully flick it again, and Seungmin must know why none of them have ever thought about doing this before. There’s something a little dizzying about the image of Jisung wet with his own slickness.
Jisung is never really responsive at first, when Seungmin touches him in his sleep. That’s part of the appeal, for Seungmin -- idol life has given Jisung the ability to not only pass out anywhere but also allow him to get through dressing and makeup mostly asleep during early schedules, letting the stylist noonas do whatever they want to him, ever so pliant. Leave it to the rest of them to take advantage of whatever this superpower is for evil. If anything, there are nights like this so often that they’ve probably only made it worse.
He likes to watch the progression as Jisung drifts through the phases of dead to the world while Seungmin manhandles him into whatever position he desires, to the quiet little sniffles and hiccups when Seungmin touches him in more sensitive places -- his waist, thighs, cock, chest. Then he starts to tremble, almost always halfway through, when Seungmin is prepping him, all pretty whimpers and subtle movements, shaky fingers twitching. Eventually, his eyelashes will begin to flutter, and Seungmin will know that in just a couple more minutes, Jisung will awaken to his hole being used, and he’ll cry. Jisung always wakes up with a gasp and teary wide eyes, the word ‘no’ falling off the tip of his tongue when Seungmin fucks it out of him. Jisung’s hand will fly to Seungmin’s hip in a silly attempt to stop him, before the situation seeps into his sleepy brain and he begins to process what’s actually happening.
Seungmin wonders if the process will be different, now that it’s with the familiarity of his own tentacles, and not warm hands and wet mouths. Or, conversely, the strangeness of slick rubber skin in places the tentacles has never touched before.
The tentacle slathers more slime across Jisung’s chest, curling over his other nipple. It’s lean muscles contract as the tentacle thins it’s point further, pressing and prodding. Okay -- it’s cute, Seungmin thinks, in a really unusual way. Jisung’s breath hitches in his sleep, and the tentacle only presses harder. In the same sense that Jisung’s tentacles know what the members like, because Jisung knows what they all like, his tentacles must also be aware of what he likes. Seungmin was partly here to find out if Jisung’s tentacles really will listen to him, but he finds that there isn’t much instruction to do in the first place. All Seungmin does is give the tentacle an idea, and then watch as it pleases Jisung however it wants, and that hits him harder than the knowledge that Jisung’s tentacles will obey people other than Jisung.
There is something just so endearing about Jisung when he’s completely taken advantage of, and Seungmin has a personalized private showing.
Unfortunately, he’s getting a little bored. Or, restless, really. Seungmin is discovering more than he bargained for and he’s a little more worked up than he should have been, at this point. His cock strains uncomfortably in his sweats, tight at the waistband where he accidentally knotted them too small. They need to move on before Seungmin comes just from this.
“Use his mouth.”
The tentacle flicks at his nipple one last time, before slithering up the column of Jisung’s throat. It pokes curiously at the seam of Jisung’s lips, then worms its way between them. For a moment, Seungmin thinks that he may have to get up and pry Jisung’s jaw open for it, but quickly, another tentacle rises from behind Jisung and helps the first tentacle slip further inside. It’s a little sickening, how cute Seungmin finds it. ‘Cute’ isn’t usually in his vocabulary in the first place, but there always seems to be an exception for a lot of things when it involves Jisung.
And -- Seungmin didn’t realise how much of a sadist he really was either, until the first time he fucked Jisung and he had cried. He isn’t like Minho, who likes impact play far too much to be considered anything but a sadist. Hitting is fun, when it’s in the moment and feels right, but Seungmin had never made it a point to cover it in every scene. What Seungmin likes the most is the aftermath, the evidence of destruction, whether the cause is his palm, or his words, or fear. He loves the whining and the tears, and Jisung always cries so prettily. Seungmin wants to see Jisung sob tonight.
The tentacle pulling Jisung’s jaw open slips inside his mouth too, just slightly, enough to pull his round cheek open and it’s so fucking sloppy already. Spit and slime had pooled over Jisung’s tongue even with how relatively shallow the first tentacle was thrusting into his mouth. It knew, automatically, not to be too rough with Jisung’s throat when they have schedules tomorrow afternoon. Of course it did. Jisung is filthy, though, a little disgusting, and maybe Seungmin doesn’t want the mess of everything anywhere near him, but it looks so perfect on Jisung, as if he was made just for this.
It’s -- too much, and not enough. “More,” Seungmin says, breathless. “Get him ready for me to use.”
He expects the tentacles in Jisung’s mouth to retreat, but they don’t. Instead, two more of Jisung’s tentacles appear and tug Jisung’s shorts down, collecting them from his ankles, like Seungmin had anticipated they would, earlier. All that two of the tentacles need to do is nudge Jisung’s knees apart for him to open himself completely, thigh falling to the side and the rest of his yielding body following. Seungmin cannot suppress the little smile on his face that follows. No matter how often he does this, the way Jisung just goes with whatever outside force influences him so compliantly never fails to induce a sort of insanity in Seungmin. He likes his string-bean lankiness, but sometimes Seungmin wishes he were strong enough to haul Jisung around the same way that Chan and Changbin do, just because he knows that Jisung would be so perfect and malleable for him.
The first new tentacle that had come to prep Jisung nudges firstly at his perineum, muscle rippling to massage , and the debauched whine Jisung cries out certainly makes all of this worth it. Seungmin is lucky he has naturally strong restraint, because he’s sure that if he were touching himself, he would have come just from the sheer desperation of it. It continues, though gentler than it had been when the tentacle had started, while the other tentacle busies itself at Jisung’s hole. Quiet little whimpers tumble from Jisung’s mouth, around the tentacles pressing at his tongue, and from his seat at Jisung’s bedside, Seungmin can see closely, the way his toes curl, the way that Jisung begins to shake. His cock is beginning to swell, half-hard to rest against his thigh. Seungmin has done this so much, now, that he can feel the phantom smoothness of Jisung’s skin under his palms, the hitched breath when his fingers are firmly placed on Jisung’s throat.
Seungmin wants to be the tentacles, almost. He wants to know what it feels like to have both of Jisung’s holes, at the same time.
When the second tentacle deems Jisung’s hole wet enough with its slick, Seungmin assumes, it points its end and nudges softly at the ring of muscle, testing the give. He wonders exactly how much these tentacles know -- if they’re aware that it needs to take its time, if they already knew that, or if the tentacles learned from Jisung. Do they also know that Jisung likes it more, when he’s under-prepped? When it hurts, just a bit? Seungmin is angled enough in the desk chair to watch as Jisung’s hole swallows the deep blue skin beautifully, the tip of his tentacle slipping in with only minimal difficulty. Until now, he had never quite noticed exactly how muscular Jisung’s tentacles are, or how easily they can manipulate their shape, so he’s mildly surprised when the second tentacle pulses, thickening and compressing to wiggle itself further inside of Jisung. It’s a little odd, wormlike almost, and with nearly every press against his walls, Jisung’s cock twitches pathetically.
Maybe it’s the self-lubrication, or the calculated movements, that allow Jisung’s tentacle to open him up further than Seungmin could have, in the couple of minutes it had been working at his hole. It pulls out, dripping slick, and Seungmin understands this as the tentacle deeming him ready, except -- the first tentacle slithers from Jisung’s perineum to enter his hole, too, along with the other. Seungmin isn’t exactly shocked, to see Jisung stuffed full when he has before, just with cock, instead of deep blue tentacles. That does not mean it doesn’t affect him miserably, and this time he can no longer resist the desire to pull his cock out of his sweats, for pressure relief if anything else.
Jisung’s eyes scrunch, and for a second Seungmin fears that he will wake, but then, the tentacles pause, unmoving until Jisung relaxes again, seemingly having fallen back under. The tentacle’s behavior is so enthralling to Seungmin. He has the urge to classify this as an experiment -- to do this often enough to figure out exactly how they think, without dissecting Jisung and picking his brain apart. With Jisung’s history, though, it’s better not to, not without asking first, at least. When Jisung lets out a final, hitched breath, the tentacles continue, pulsing and contracting in sync, to open Jisung up even further. Perhaps they don’t know, then, how Jisung wants it.
But, maybe they do know what Jisung likes, more than the rest of them. Jisung isn’t quiet, not anymore, and it's a miracle that he actually hasn’t woken himself up by now. They’re lucky that the dorm seems to be empty -- for once, Seungmin doesn’t feel like having anyone else join in. It’s becoming increasingly difficult, though, for Seungmin to keep his restraint. He’d like to be stable enough to actually fuck Jisung tonight, instead of coming the moment he slips inside, but, the tentacles are working against him.
“Enough,” he says, rising from the chair and tugging his sweats off. It’s more than enough, he’s sure that Jisung must be overly prepped, by now. “Hold him still.” Seungmin climbs onto the bed, between Jisung’s spread thighs. “Please.” He tacks on. Surely it will pay off in the future, to be polite. The tentacles slip from Jisung’s ass to pull his legs further apart, and when Seungmin lightly shoves at his thigh, it doesn’t budge. At his mouth, the tentacles retract completely, which is fine. He enjoys it more when he can hear Jisung beg him to stop, when he wakes up, before he starts whining at Seungmin to keep going.
Quickly, nearly desperately, Seungmin lines his cock up to Jisung’s slick hole, sopping wet, almost. It’s going to be a little gross, for Seungmin, but Jisung has always liked being so wet and messy like this that it’s worth the temporary discomfort. He pushes inside, slowly at first, then quicker when he realizes exactly how loose Jisung is. There’s no resistance, when Seungmin slides into the hilt, hips pressed against Jisung’s, who takes it wonderfully. Jisung flops his head to the side, exposing his throat, tempting with the smooth expanse of skin, but -- schedules, tomorrow. They’ve already had a talking to from the makeup noonas the first time one of them had shown up looking like they had been mauled. Instead, Seungmin kisses a line up his throat gently and hopes that he won't go insane enough to bite.
Seungmin sets a slow, but steady pace, wanting to enjoy this quiet moment between them, the short moment of peace before Seungmin fucks Jisung hard enough to rouse him. He finds Jisung especially cute, in this period before he’s fully awake, but conscious enough to squirm without meaning to. Seungmin can pick up Jisung’s arm, and it will just flop in his hold, but if Seungmin thrusts just a little harder, Jisung will automatically try to cover his mouth even if he isn’t entirely awake yet. Something about this behavior is so… cute .
He picks up the pace, a little, but Jisung is just so fucking open and wet it almost feels like nothing. Jisung is so loose that Seungmin could likely fit in another couple of fingers, surely, or --
It makes so much sense, then, why Jisung’s tentacles took their time with him. Of course, they would want in on this, too. It’s … exciting. They all must be fucking stupid to have never even considered this. Seungmin hopes, he knows , actually, that the timing is right. “Come, you can come help now.”
One tentacle emerges from beneath Jisung, prods at Jisung’s rim, and Seungmin stills. For as many firsts as there are tonight, this actually isn’t the first, or the last time that Seungmin has felt the rubbery texture of Jisung’s tentacles on his cock, so it doesn’t feel all that unfamiliar when it pokes it’s pointed tip inside Jisung’s hole, right next to him. Another moment, and the tentacle squirms in further, and the fit is so tight and wet, just the way that Jisung likes it, that this must have been what the tentacles had intended for from the beginning.
Tentatively, Seungmin begins to move again, slowly, but the overall slickness of Jisung’s hole allows for a greater range of movement despite how tight he is around them and it feels good for Seungmin, too, more than he could have anticipated.
Then, it happens, what Seungmin had been waiting for, the moment that he loves the most:
With a gasp as if he’s been drowning, Jisung’s eyes fly open, afraid and confused, hands automatically pushing at Seungmin’s shoulders, but his muscles are still so weak from sleep that it does absolutely nothing but encourage Seungmin to fuck into him harder. “Oh,” he stutters, tears welling up in his eyes so quickly. “N-no, no no, ah,” Seungmin can tell that he hasn’t registered who he is yet, just knows that it’s someone . “Please, I’m -- I can’t, I can’t,” Another wet hiccup, and when Jisung’s eyelashes flutter, a tear falls over the rim of his eye. “Stop it!”
“Shut up,” Seungmin demands, his right hand leaving Jisung’s waist to settle over his throat. He doesn’t squeeze, not yet, but Jisung’s breathing cuts off like Seungmin did, and finally, his pretty tears spill over his waterline. There’s so much fear , Jisung trembles, muscles flexing where he tries to close his legs but can’t, and he whimpers pathetically. Seungmin doesn’t even think he realizes yet that these are his tentacles. One of Jisung’s hands leaves Seungmin’s shoulder for him to bite on his fingers. It’s so cute how obedient Jisung is, even when he’s afraid. Or, really, because he is afraid.
And, the tentacle works with Seungmin flawlessly, keeping up with his pace well enough that they punch out wet little moans and twitches from Jisung with each breath he takes. He waits patiently for Jisung to gather his bearings, it always takes a while for him to fight through both the somnolence and the pleasure. There’s a new awareness in Jisung's eyes, when he does, like he’s finally seeing . It’s then, that Seungmin decides it’s an appropriate time to tighten his grip on the sides of Jisung’s throat and watch him choke on a moan, eyes rolling and fluttering shut, until Seungmin lets go.
“God,” Jisung gasps, blinking away his tears. “S-Seungmin, I -- what?” He tries to be confused, sits up to gaze down at himself, then promptly squeezes his eyes shut and throws himself back onto the pillows when he registers exactly what is happening. “Oh my god? What the fuck?”
“Would you like me to stop?” Seungmin taunts, already knowing the answer -- even if this is Seungmin giving him an out, it’s always the same every time.
“Yeah,” Jisung whines, attempting to squirm away. Seungmin just shoves him back down onto the bed. It isn’t like his tentacles will allow him to go anywhere, anyway. “It’s too much, you can’t -- you can’t fuck me with my own tentacles? Please, stop it, Seungminnie” Jisung sniffles, desperate, but it’s unacceptable. It isn’t afraid enough for Jisung to mean it.
Instead of stopping, the tentacle seems to agree with Seungmin, and pulses wide enough that Jisung cries out, throwing an arm across his eyes. Seungmin swipes two fingers through the mess leaking from Jisung’s rim, pressing them against his thumb so that when he separates them, the obscene amount of slick strings together between them. “Look at me, Jisung.”
Immediately, he pulls his arm away and stares at Seungmin with glistening round eyes. So cute .
Seungmin shows his fingers to Jisung, ensures that he sees how fucking soaked he is. “If you didn’t want this,” he says carefully, then flicks the wetness over Jisung’s face, half to prove a point, and half to watch him flinch and cry. “Then you wouldn’t be so wet, would you?”
Jisung actually sobs, loud and distressed, twisting his torso to hide in the pillows, trembling. For as much as Jisung is being a brat about it, Seungmin knows that he loves this. How couldn’t he know, when Jisung tenses so beautifully around his cock, dick leaking precome enough to have pooled on his stomach. If Jisung didn’t like this, then he wouldn’t be whining like a bitch, but doing nothing about it.
“Can I -- can I come?” Jisung cries, muffled into the pillow. He curls his fingers into the fabric, arms shaking. “Please?” Despite how cute he is, Seungmin doesn’t think that Jisung is adequately ruined. Maybe Jisung is, actually, but he feels a little crazed, insane, and will not be satisfied until Jisung is reduced to absolutely nothing.
“Hmm,” Seungmin pulls on Jisung’s overturned shoulder, who follows limply, opening back up but attempting to keep his face buried in the pillow. “You can do whatever you like, Jisungie, but we aren’t stopping just because you came.” He rolls his hips, the tentacle pulsing wider, and Jisung bites his lip hard enough to draw a dot of blood, licking it away. Tears spill over his lashes again, gorgeously.
Call him greedy, or selfish, even, but Seungmin needs more .
Seungmin didn’t mean to say it out loud, and only realises he did when he feels a second tentacle prodding at Jisung’s rim, along his cock. And that -- that almost sends Seungmin over the edge himself because that is just so much . More than Seungmin had expected, all of this is, but he is quickly discovering that he needs it viscerally before he combusts into smoldering ashes.
“ Seungmin ,” Jisung gasps, seriously. His hands reach down between his legs to try to stop the tentacle, and Seungmin has to collect his wits in time to pull them away. “I really, really can’t , oh my god.” He’s fighting this time, coherent and awake to use his muscles properly, but Jisung still can’t seem to use his brain, yet. He withers and squirms, crying, but -- if he wanted this to stop, he really could just tell his tentacles to let go. “Please, please, please , Minnie.”
“Cut it out,” he manages to breathe, fucking into Jisung hard , so that he chokes on his own breath and Seungmin can gather his wrists together before he recovers. A new tentacle, this time, comes when Seungmin calls for it, slithering around Jisung’s wrists and pinning them to the sheets. Jisung is not aware of what he has slept through -- how wet he really is, how loose and gaping his hole is. Seungmin is one hundred percent certain that Jisung can take all three of them. In fact, he isn’t even sure this is the worst . “It isn’t a question of whether you can or can’t, Hannie. It’s a statement that you will take it.”
Once he recomposes himself, Jisung tries to tug his arms free, and whines miserably. All he can really do anymore is shake his head and babble desperately, silly little ‘no’s and ‘stops’ that Seungmin easily ignores in favor of helping the tentacle. They work together, Seungmin using the point of his thumb to spread Jisung further apart and give enough space for just the tip of the tentacle to push in. After that, the tentacle knows exactly what to do.
It’s slow work, at first, once the tentacle finally breaches Jisung’s hole. Seungmin thrusts in shallowly, languidly, not wanting to actually injure Jisung, but still unable to hold himself back. Restraint is just so fucking difficult, when Jisung is flushed such a pretty pink and so, so, messy, completely defiled and entirely Seungmin’s. Soon, the tentacle manages to pry Jisung open, pulling almost all the way out of him to thicken just a little more, and then slam itself back inside.
The way that the tentacle moves shocks Seungmin, even, the roughness is unexpected when for the most part, Jisung’s tentacles have actually been fairly gentle tonight. Jisung cries out loud enough for it to nearly be classified as a scream, then immediately bites his fist. And, god, Seungmin watches as the tentacle repeats its movement, jostling Jisung’s entire body, but that isn’t what makes Seungmin deranged. No, it is the way that Jisung’s stomach stretches at each slide in, when all three of them are nestled inside of him at once. Straightaway, Seungmin cannot help but splay his hand over the bulge, feel the tentacle thud against his palm and then retreat, only for it to hit his hand again a second later.
“Fucking hell, Jisung,” he murmurs. He needs Jisung to see this, knows he’ll lose his fucking mind. “Look at you.” Seungmin says, quiet, and when Jisung doesn’t respond, he repeats it again, firmer. “ Look .” And Jisung blinks repeatedly at him, processes, then cranes his head above his chest to watch. This time, Seungmin pulls out with the second tentacle, then fucks back into Jisung with as much force. The bulge is larger than before, more than Seungmin had thought could be humanly possible but, well. Jisung isn’t quite human , is he? Jisung writhes, after, moans so loud Seungmin worries that he’ll be heard from the apartment next door, and it’s a miracle he didn’t bite his tongue off. His cock spurts cum up to his chest, untouched, and Seungmin actually has to stop for a moment before he comes prematurely with the way that Jisung’s hole pulses around him.
For all intents and purposes, Jisung is dead to the world. He breathes shallowly, brokenly, eyes rolled, and doesn’t move. If he hadn’t heard about Jisung doing this before, Seungmin would have been concerned, probably, but really it does nothing besides make Seungmin more sick in the head. “Good,” he praises, finally, and fucks into Jisung with more energy. This is the sort of debauched Seungmin was waiting for, literally brainless, cock drunk. Not a single thought in Jisung’s pretty head just -- absolutely nothing. He, and the tentacles, use Jisung’s body like a toy, a perfect little fleshlight until Jisung eventually comes to, blinking up at Seungmin sluggishly. He’s so subdued, now, no more whining and fighting, just takes what they give him obediently.
“ Perfect , so perfect for me, Jisungie,” With the back of his hand, Seungmin cleans the drool slicking Jisung’s lips and wipes it off on the sheets. He just whimpers, glassy eyes gazing back at Seungmin, entirely empty. There’s not really an indication that Jisung is understanding anything that’s going on but that’s fine. Jisung doesn’t really need to know what’s happening, his body just needs to respond.
Seungmin is close, very , enough that he’s trembling himself, with the pleasure and with how diligently he’s been holding back. He’s so close to snapping, just rutting into Jisung until he comes, but -- he needs to milk one more orgasm out of Jisung, just one. If he doesn't, Seungmin isn’t sure he can say that he did the most, everything he could to break Jisung down to build him back up.
Taking Jisung’s cock in his fist, Seungmin props himself up with his other hand, near Jisung’s head, to grind into him deeply, the new angle allowing him further than Jisung’s tentacles are reaching. Jisung cries freely and squirms, but not to get away, like before, just because he feels good, and it’s the only thing that his body can do. “One more, baby. Just one, almost there.” It only takes a few pumps of his fist, a couple more thrusts, and Jisung is spilling over Seungmin’s fingers, sniffling wetly. Only then, finally, does Seungmin allow himself to let go, and it’s embarrassing how quickly he comes once he lets himself do so. It’s -- intense, so intense that Seungmin almost collapses, but pulls out and rolls over in time to not fall on Jisung. He wants to scream and cry, and also sleep for a thousand years, and maybe take the pillow from under Jisung and tear into it like a dog.
That isn’t the priority right now, though, Seungmin takes a moment to catch his breath and relax his tired muscles, then pulls Jisung into his lap. He’s already coming back, at least -- his breathing isn’t so stuttered or slow, anymore, and his hands come up to Seungmin’s shirt and fist the fabric, the way Jisung normally does when he’s being cute for profit. There’s no arguing or teasing about giving Jisung what he wants this time, so Seungmin kisses Jisung until he’s coherent and smiling, and then some. Once Jisung is okay enough to actually think for himself, he allows Seungmin to fuss over them, leaving to the bathroom to wet a couple rags and clean up, though they really should be showering. A few times, Jisung tries to go back to sleep in the soiled sheets only for Seungmin to rouse him because, well, the bed is soaked and that would be disgusting. Instead, Seungmin is forcing Jisung to walk to his dorm and just sleep in his room. To be fair, Seungmin makes a defenseless argument, telling Jisung they can shower together in the morning and take care of the mess later.
“I’m disgusting anyway,” Jisung says annoyingly. Seungmin rolls his eyes, and continues to pull one of Chan’s hoodies over Jisung’s head.
“You can speak for yourself. I’m not sleeping in a puddle of slick, thank you.” He gets one of Jisung’s arms through a sleeve, and then the other.
“But it’s my slick, baby!” Jisung shoots Seungmin a look that is way too similar to the pleading emoji.
Seungmin just sighs, a little fond, and mostly exasperated, helping Jisung off the bed so that he can put on a clean pair of sweats. “I could literally just leave you here.”
Jisung clings onto him obnoxiously. “You wouldn’t dare, my Seungminnie. You love me way too much. You would die if you had to spend more than five hours away from me!”
“I would be at peace, actually,” Seungmin says dryly, He tugs Jisung out of his room, and through the darkened dorm. Nothing seems to have changed since Seungmin had arrived, but it wouldn’t have mattered to anyone, anyway.
When they exit the dorm, Jisung shuffles on his feet. “Um, thank you, by the way?” It’s always cute, the way that he’s so timid when he tells someone thank you, like it's the most embarrassing thing in the world. “That was so?? I’m still shaking I think, what the hell baby. Oh my god. I kind of don’t think I’ll be able to stop thinking about it, seriously. What the hell Kim Seungmin?”
He laughs, far too loudly for how late it is, or how early, really. “Huh, yeah. I really outdid myself didn’t I?” He says smugly. “Are you gonna tell everyone in the morning how I had your own tentacles fuck you within an inch of your life, or should I?”
Jisung groans, throwing his head back. “Shut up !”