Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You’re sure?” Shadow sat across the room. Huddled up, coiled in a chair, not touching, but not in the way of a cornered thing. The body language brought to mind a cat tracking a mouse, pupils blown wide and every muscle poised to spring, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Four met his eyes. He kept his own posture lax, unafraid. “I told you what I want.”

-

He woke to something cool and smooth twining around his wrist.

“Mmm. Shadow?” Four shifted, half awake, soft sheets sliding across bare skin. Open windows to let in the night air helped cool the house, but he still found it more comfortable to sleep in the nude during the warm summer months.

Silent, the tendril crept further around him, settling into a loose coil from palm to forearm. Not so unusual; sometimes Shadow liked to cling. Four shifted, pulling his arm in and turning his head to seek out a sleepy kiss.

The shadow-magic tightened, going taunt around his wrist and palm. Four found he couldn’t draw his arm any closer to his body.

Realization hit him in a flood. A head to toe rush of excitement brought Four fully awake between one heartbeat and the next. He lifted his head, searching for his lover in the dark.

The next tentacle slipped inside his mouth before he could think to close it.

Four made a muffled noise. His tongue curled up around the familiar intrusion. Tasting, inviting, pushing, his body reacting on instinct to try to control the depth. He reached up to grab, because it had gone somewhat aggressively deep.

Another tentacle took hold of his second hand, tugging it down away from his face. More stroked back through his hair, twisting into large chunks of it and using the leverage to pull his head back.

“You don’t get to touch.” Shadow’s voice. Four’s eyes rolled, searching for the source and unable to find it in the dark. “Aren’t you pretty,” Shadow purred. “I’m going to fuck that handsome face until you can’t tell up from down.”

An excited throb pulsed in Four’s groin at the words. He felt himself swell and flush, slick gathering between his folds. He ground down into the sheets, leaning into the possessive tugging.

Four struggled against the tentacles around his wrists, sucking hard on the one in his mouth. It still felt slightly too cool, the taste of it strange. Not like skin. If shadow magic had a taste, this was it; plums and pure chill, something musky and electric and heady.

It ventured in further, teasing up to the point of discomfort. He pressed his tongue upward, trying to push it back, and couldn’t.

More tendrils wrapped around his throat and jaw, angling his head.

“Relax,” Shadow purred, even as Four felt more of him creeping along his back. Indistinct weight settled over him, a mass that held none of the solid form of a Hylian body.

Shadow could look like whatever he wanted to. Sometimes, he chose to look like nothing at all.

The tentacle in his mouth slipped a little too far along the roof of it. Four gagged, convulsing, but Shadow had all of him in a solid grip now. Tendrils wound around his hips, his chest, his thighs. They slipped down to his ankles, drawing his legs apart. One wiggled down between Four’s hips and the mattress. Four rutted against it, squirming just to feel how much he couldn’t go anywhere, how securely Shadow held him. It was so much so fast. He couldn’t keep up, and Shadow didn’t give him a chance to regain any equilibrium.

The tentacle in his mouth writhed across his tongue. Four pressed up against it, sliding his tongue back and forth along the underside, all he could do to express his appreciation.

“You’re still thinking,” Shadow said. “I’m going to drive every thought out of that smart little head.” His voice held the echoing, hollow quality of speech delivered with only the barest thought for physical vocal chords. “I’m going to fuck you stupid. Swallow.”

With that bare warning, the first tentacle slipped over the back of his tongue and into his throat.

Four twitched in the tendril’s firm hold, unable to do anything but obey. He relaxed his throat and swallowed the tentacle down, convulsing again at the sheer inexorable press of it, at the way his breathing cut off. The tendril held down his tongue, stretched his lips and throat around the solid girth of it.

He felt his eyes go heavy. He whimpered, a muffled sound distorted by the intrusion. He was completely at Shadow’s mercy, Four’s dark counterpart at the height of his power in the black night of a new moon. Not even the meager glow of the stars entered the room, Shadow’s magic blotting out every last hint of light.

Shadow made a clicking noise, like a tongue against the roof of a mouth, echoing and strange. He shifted Four’s head, as if examining it from all angles, demonstrating Four’s complete lack of power to him. “That’s it,” he said, dark glee in his tone. “Don’t fight it.”

Four didn’t. Four couldn’t.

The tentacle down his throat shifted, an experimental thrust.

Four’s eyes rolled up. He humped the one rubbing between his legs, playing at his folds. The very tip of it dipped in, teasing at his entrance. Four angled his hips into it, desperately seeking more.

“Look how much you like it. You’re so wet for me.”

Four made a muffled, pathetic sound when it penetrated him with the same lack of warning or preparation as the one in his mouth. Shadow thrust into him easily, his way prepared by frequent, enthusiastic fucking and just how much slick waited for him inside Four’s body.

“So wet,” Shadow repeated, taking him from both sides. “And warm,” he moaned, thrusting hard and rough. Four clenched, gagged and gasped when the tentacle down his throat pulled out just enough for him to suck down a lungful of air before plunging back in. The tendrils around his legs pulled wider, spreading Four open for Shadow to plunder.

Shadow drew Four’s arms in towards his body, crossing them across his stomach as if he were hugging himself. Smaller tendrils played between Four’s fingers, threading through them like lover’s hands twined together.

Four’s thoughts started to narrow in: lack of air and pounding heart and every muscle clenched. Shadow adjusted his angle, drilling straight into that sensitive spot inside. Four wailed, thrashing.

Another tentacle latched onto the bundle of nerves at the apex of his legs, sucking hard.

Four plunged over the edge without warning. He convulsed, sucking in one last breath before the tentacle fucking his throat dove deep and stayed there, stark contrast to the rough, rapid pounding at his other end.

Four shivered and shuddered, choking for air, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as he whimpered his way through a hard, intense orgasm.

The tentacles slowed as his thrashing turned frantic, the one pressed against his front releasing him with a last, almost tender suckle.

Magic sparked on Four’s tongue, sharp and cold, and he sucked in a gulp of air before quite realizing the tentacle was still down his throat. He gasped again, limp in Shadow’s hold, shuddering as some clarity of thought returned. The unnatural sensation of something so large blocking him up but still being able to breath around it left him reeling, his body fighting conflicting instincts of contrasting stimuli.

Then Shadow picked Four right up off the bed.

“Don’t you go thinking we’re done.”

Four made a startled noise as the mattress disappeared from under him, protest muffled around his penetrating gag. He twitched in discomfort as the motion jostled the tentacles still inside him at both ends. The sheet overtop of him slipped.

“Let me help you with that,” Shadow cooed. “Can’t have you getting cold, now.”

No chance of that; that day had been stifling, even the cooler air of night and Shadow’s own low body temperature not enough to overwhelm the way Four’s heart had only barely slowed, sweat gathering in the crooks of his joints and at the back of his neck. But Shadow twisted the sheet around his hips and upper body, wrapping it up along with his own tentacles, tight and supportive.

Four sagged. Hanging in midair, the room so dark he couldn’t even see the hair that had escaped Shadow’s hold to hang down around his face, Four could almost believe the only thing to exist in the entire world was himself and Shadow. His orgasm and the close press of Shadow’s tentacles left him mellow, his muscles weak as he recovered his air. He closed his eyes, not even his tongue fighting the tendril pressing so heavily against it any more.

His eyes didn’t even open when Shadow drew the sheet away from his lower half, unveiling him to the blackened room.

“Look how well you take me.” The tentacle inside squirmed. Four squirmed with it, feeling the way it writhed and pressed in a way no Hylian dick was capable of. “Ohhh, but Four. You still have another hole. It looks so lonely.”

Somewhere, somehow, Four found enough strength to open his eyes in order to roll them. He trusted Shadow would be able to see it.

“I don’t think you appreciate my jokes.” The tentacle nestled up at the base of his jaw pressed down against his windpipe, squeezing his throat around the one inside. “And if you’ve got the wit to be sarcastic at me, I guess that means you’ve had enough of a break.”

A brush came against his folds, picking up what had leaked from him and spreading it forward to ease the way for returning touches. It rubbed over him, testing, careful at first. Four shuddered. His hips twitched towards it. Drool trailed a steady stream out of the corner of his mouth, Four entirely unable to swallow.

The tendril at his front grew more confident at the evidence of Four’s renewed interest. Shadow pulled out of him, torturously slow, a steady glide not matched by the one in his mouth. That one stayed where it was, stretching his jaw so wide it ached as the second slipped back in.

New pressure. Something cool and already slick prodded at his ass. It felt thankfully smaller than the others. Four’s body didn’t have enough strength left to resist as it pressed insistently against him, Shadow showing a modicum more restraint here than he had with the first two. Four whined when his body gave out and the tip of it popped in.

“Shhhh,” Shadow hushed him. The pressure along Four’s back increased, tentacles tightening around his torso like a hug. “You feel so good.”

The newest tendril had a different texture than the rest, smooth ridges making Four’s entrance swell and slide shut again around it as Shadow pressed gently but inescapably in. He went deep, deeper, until Four began to struggle again, uncertain whether he would stop.

He finally did, brushing up against some unknown wall inside of Four. Four felt so full, split open and immobilized, aching and wanting. His groin throbbed, flush and ready, more than able to go again. He found the strength to curl the edges of his tongue upward, to flutter what internal muscles he could. Shadow groaned.

“Show me how much you want it.” Shadow hauled back on Four’s hair. Thick bands shifted his hips and forced his back to arch, stretched his legs wide. Four jerked. He did his best to clench again. His toes flexed with the effort.

Shadow giggled. The sound echoed and danced oddly around the room, bouncing from corner to corner. “Look at your little toes.”

What felt like half a dozen tiny, soft little feelers brushed the sole of Four’s foot. He squirmed, twitching ticklishly, but there was no getting away. Shadow laughed and kept doing it, tormenting the bottom of both Four’s feet now, making him dance and writhe on all the thick tendrils impaling him. Four choked out a cry, a few tears slipping free, the tickling driving an already intense group of sensations that much higher.

Shadow cooed in faux concern at the wetness on Four’s face. But he did relent, stroking over Four’s feet with more pressure, a firm touch to settle over-taxed nerve endings. Four stopped fighting his hold, shuddering. His teeth dug in a little as he tried to shift and swallow, his throat working uselessly, but Shadow was immune to such things.

“You’ve been a good boy,” Shadow said. “But I have needs too, and I’m going to take care of them now.”

Four tensed despite himself. He tried to uncurl his arms, brought up short as the corded appendages around them flexed to remind him of their presence. Shadow stroked over his palm once, hard and firm.

Shadow began to thrust. Four’s eyes rolled up, immediately caught back up in the flood of input. The two between his legs drove him forward onto the one in his mouth. Four could swear he felt them begin to swell, rubbing over each other through his inner walls and setting off fresh aches in his overtaxed entrances. Shadow picked up speed, the only nod to Four’s own pleasure the one that latched back on at his front, suckling hard.

Shadow didn’t need to do anything so mundane as breathe. Only Four’s grunts filled the room, the slick sounds of Shadow driving into him. He felt every one of those ridges, the points of pressure where Shadow held him suspended, immobilized. Shadow drove in hard and fast and Four could do nothing but roll his hips to meet him.

Shadow pinched his nose shut and Four couldn’t breathe again, convulsing around an intrusion he’d nearly grown accustomed to as the tentacle down his throat suddenly regained its air of threat. He choked on it, body trying to seize and unable to, so large was the tentacle and so worn out was he.

Shadow said nothing.

A strange pressure began to fill the room. Four’s ears popped. Magic sparked and shrieked across his skin. It jolted through every one of the tentacles impaling him, sharp and cold and sparking like he’d touched a half-charged magic rod. It sent a pulse of sensation straight to all his most sensitive places, pouring through his throat and against hyper-charged nerves, and Four came again.

Four felt the tentacle in his mouth pulse as Shadow spilled his first load straight into Four’s esophagus.

The next two followed in quick succession. Cool liquid flooded him. All the tentacles shuddered, drew tight and taunt, compressing Four in their grip and drawing up against inner walls that convulsed in the throes of Four’s own orgasm. They squirmed inside him, curling in their passion as if clutching for purchase against his insides. Four writhed with them, as if trying to match his body of bones and flesh to their sinuous curves.

Shadow hissed, the echoing, sibilant sound a perfect match for the sharp magic Four’s muscles still jumped and twitched in the throes of. He released Four’s nose and Four heaved for air, too spent to decide if he wanted to rock his hips towards Shadow or away as his lover drew him through his orgasm and beyond. His eyes rolled and his lips sagged around their writhing gag, well beyond the words he had no ability to speak. He pulsed and flinched as that tentacle at his front kept sucking past the point of comfort.

Shadow didn’t even pause in the wake of his own orgasm. If anything, he seemed more frenzied now.

The tentacles inside felt even bigger still now that they’d released the first round of their payload. Four felt his body relaxing past what exhaustion could account for. He slumped in Shadow’s hold like a puppet with all its strings cut as his orgasm faded and took every ounce of remaining strength with it, feeling himself loosen inside and out everywhere Shadow’s come had settled.

“That’s it.” The words echoed and jumped, hissed rather than spoken, drawing out the sibilant sounds and slip-sliding over the hard consonants. Absolutely no mistaking them for having come from a Hylian throat now. “Relax.”

The weight of the tentacles inside him grew heavy as they swelled even more and stilled their orgasmic writhing. Four’s entrances stung anew at the stretch, his windpipe pressing against the tendrils around his throat as the one inside it filled in. The tendrils shifted their grip on his hair, stroking, tugging and pulling. One wiped away the dampness on his face. Four’s head lolled, dazed. He’d stopped hearing the occasional rustle of leaves outside; only his own heartbeat, Shadow’s voice. He felt nothing but hot air and cool bands of shadowy magic, the comforting pressure of the sheet wrapped around him and the possessive plundering of his bare body.

He barely twitched when the one between his folds pressed up against a hard stop deep inside him and then through it, Shadow’s ejaculate relaxing things inside that would normally only open enough for something so large under completely different circumstances. He moaned, feeling that tentacle exploring someplace no Hylian could ever hope to reach. Shadow hushed him. The one in his ass delved even deeper, more than flexible enough to turn some corner that would stop a Hylian lover cold. Four cried at the unsettling sensations, lost in the floating place between pleasure and discomfort.

“I think you can take more.” The dark note in Shadow’s whisper barely registered.

Pressure. The tentacle swelled against his folds, a sudden steep increase, as if trying to press something larger inside of him. He cried out as it popped through. A moment later a similar smooth lump pried his teeth that much further apart, the tendril swelling and his mouth filling as something smooth and round passed along the length of his tongue. It squeezed into his throat, propelled along by rhythmic contracting in the tentacle itself, momentarily blocking his ability to breathe once again before it passed far enough down for him to feel it moving in a hard lump towards his stomach. Then the first hit that inner passage just as a third pressed into his ass.

Eggs.

A trick of magic. Shadow could dismiss them with a thought. They weren’t real or permanent any more than the tentacles themselves, and that knowledge was enough to keep the panic at bay.

But for now, they were plenty solid enough for Four to strain and whine at the added stretch and weight as the first popped free of Shadow’s body and settled deep inside him. He sank into the simple sensation of forced helplessness, to relax and let Shadow fill every crevasse. Something he found he wanted only like this, when it was a fantasy that would disappear as soon as they’d both had their fill.

He lost count after the first six.

They came in a steady stream, a swelling and stretching he was helpless to stop. Their weight settled inside his stomach, his ass, inside a part of him he had no intention of ever using for what it was meant for. He felt them rolling against each other, against him, stretching and massaging him from the inside.

He learned to time his breaths to the discomforting moment where they passed into the back of his throat and momentarily blocked his airway. They pressed hard against that spot along his inner walls as they passed through his folds, smooth rolling pressure against that spongy patch of sensitive flesh. Four stared blindly into nothing as his tired body stirred with interest once again. The one at his front had never quite stopped suckling, and it picked up in pace as Four grew flush again against it.

A brush against his cheeks, light and fleeting, almost like a kiss. “Feel how full you are. Full of my seed. My eggs.” Shadow tugged at his hands. For the first time in long enough that Four’s elbows creaked at the newfound motion, his arms were allowed to move. Shadow guided Four’s hands down over the swell of his own stomach, repositioning them for Four to feel from the outside as sphere after smooth, solid sphere stretched him open and fell free inside.

His insides called a halt before Shadow’s supply did, the ability of Four’s skin to stretch reaching the limits of what Shadow could create in a body not made of pure magic. Shadow hummed, pressing up against him gently. The eggs rolled under the pressure of his passing tentacles.

The one down Four’s throat began to withdraw. He twitched as it passed back over his tongue, coming to rest again with only the narrow tip still inside his mouth, simply gagging him rather than plundering. A healthy amount of drool followed it. Four made an attempt to swallow that succeeded for the first time in what felt like hours.

“Up we go.”

The plush surface of the mattress met Four’s knees as Shadow shifted him upright, jarring reminder that a world existed beyond Four and Shadow’s entwined bodies. Four went lightheaded as his head came above the level of his heart for the first time in who knew how long. The eggs shifted with him, the distended swell of his belly settling low.

All the shifting and stretching and resettling finally tipped him over the edge one last time.

His final orgasm came as a weak, pathetic fluttering. The one latched on at his front coaxed him through it before withdrawing.

Shadow leaned Four back against himself, still feeling more like a shifting mass created by nothing more than the magic of his namesake than anything solid. He still provided an indistinct pressure to rest against, thick bands of muscle and magic to hold Four tight. Shadow pulled Four’s arms in and up rather than release them, wrapping Four up and tucking him in against himself. The sheet tangled around Four’s chest and legs, half pulled loose and leaving him mostly exposed as he knelt over something that might reform into Shadow’s lap.

The tentacle in his ass slipped free, to Four’s great relief. Fluid leaked steadily from the opening, the pressure inside far too much to keep it in without the tentacle to help plug the hole. He felt the eggs there shift and resettle, too large for him to pass them without help.

The last tendril pulled back only until it settled just inside his entrance, steady pressure coming to rest just inside sore, swollen flesh.

Four made a throaty noise. He tongued at the tentacle between his teeth. Various aches began to make themselves known as his ardor faded, though he felt far too relaxed to pay them much mind. His mind drifted, floating in that satiated, secure place of thorough release.

Only Shadow’s touch, the tendrils around him squeezing down with the occasional flex, kept him grounded.

“A little longer,” Shadow whispered, and this time Four felt the flutter of breath against his neck to accompany the words.

A little longer. Four folded his fingers through the shadowy magic entwined with them, resting both over his egg-full belly, and leaned into the comfort of his lover’s embrace.