in the name of science
aka that trevor/tentacle creature, lowkey trevor/ryan fic i started like half a year ago for...somebody? i forget who, itâs been a while, hello new followers and goodbye new followers iâm sure rating: rockinâ out with their cocks out content: i mean, itâs tentacle sex. itâs consensual, trevor 100% knows what heâs getting into, but there are tentacles going into places in a sexy manner. also featuring ryan getting off on trevor getting off on getting dicked by tentacles, also ryan being a nerd, also trevor rolling his eyes a lot on ao3 excerpt:
âTrevor?â
Heâs not sure how heâd forgotten Ryan was there on the comm, still listening. What are the chances that Ryan hasnât heard the desperate noises heâs been making?
âYou sound, uh. Is everything okay?â
Death. Death should come now.
âDo I sound like Iâm in pain to you, Ryan?â Trevor grates out, kicking out slightly when he feels something tugging at his pant leg.
âWell, uh, no. Not exactly. Itâs more likeââ
âI know what you think it sounds like!â Trevor says, a little shrill.
Trevor really needs to stop volunteering for this supernatural shit. After nearly getting eatenâand not in the fun wayâby a wendigo last leek, he should know better.
(It'll be fine, Ryan had said. It's harmless. Mostly harmless. You'll be fine. Afterwards, Ryan had interrupted Trevor's yelling to point out that, hey, he was fine. Totally and completely not eaten alive. What more did he want?)
So, okay, he does know better. And yet here he is, walking into the den of a creature they don't even have a name for yet. Maybe he's gullible, or his sense of self-preservation is totally fuckedâpossibly literally, if Ryan's notes about the thing are any indication.
(âIf I get fucked to death, I'm coming back to haunt your ass,â he tells Ryan before heading into the cavern.
Ryan doesn't look up from his work. âDuly noted.â)
Still, at the end of the day, Ryan and the others want to know how the creature responds to humans when itâs in an âexcited state,â whatever the fuck that means. This is educational.
Trevor keeps telling himself that as he delves further into the cave, his way lit by the flashlight gripped tightly in his hand. Heâs grateful for the tiny communication device in his ear, the only thing connecting him back to base. Theyâd tried to get some kind of video recording set up as well, but everything they tried to film showed up as salt-and-pepper static on screen. Ryan had been fascinated.
Trevorâs just annoyed.
He sees a faint glow far ahead of him, knows itâs the creature based on Ryanâs notes, some bioluminescent secretion that comes from blah blah blah, Trevor had stopped paying attention at that point. Heâs an engineer, not a biologist.
Which, to be honest, begs the question: Why the fuck is he the one doing this?
And, okay, Trevor knows why. Itâs because Ryanâs in charge of taking observational notes for the case, and Jack and Jeremy are working a different case on the East coast, and Gavinâs in England doing who the hell knows what with Dan, and Geoff had laughed incredulously and declared himself âtoo old for this shit,â and Michael had seemed a little too eager, andâ
Well, the options had narrowed down a lot, and Trevor was elbow-deep in a repair when heâd been asked and subsequently muttered, âYeah, sure,â without really processing, and now here he is.
Sometimes he really regrets joining the Hunters.
Sometimes, meaning like right now, as he enters the main cave and stares up at the creature heâs only heard about until now. Itâs...okay, itâs pretty horrifying, if heâs honest.
âJesus Christ,â he blurts.
âDo you see it?â comes Ryanâs voice in his ear. He sounds way too excited. âWhat does it look like?â
âIt looks like a huge fuckingââ Trevor pauses. âCan this thing understand English?â
âIâve looked at notes from other cases similar to this one, and results were...mostly inconclusive.â
âMeaning?â
âMeaning donât say anything stupid, just in case.â
âRight. I was gonna say, itâs beautiful. Gorgeous. Should be on Americaâs Next Top Model.â
Heâs rewarded with a breathy chuckle, but Trevorâs too busy looking at the monster to really acknowledge it.
Itâs huge, is really his first observation, a central mass thatâs far bigger than he is, with countless appendages branching off from it, all shapes and sizes. Itâs lit up faintly by the bioluminescent slick covering most of the...tentacles, okay, theyâre tentacles, itâs a huge tentacle monster, thatâs all there is to it, and Trevor had known that walking into this but itâs no less alarming.
The thing doesnât appear to have eyes, but surely it can sense him. Still, itâs not attacking. Thatâs reassuring.
âTalk to me,â Ryan says.
Trevor snorts. âUm, itâs...big? Writhing around but not coming near me.â
âGet closer to it.â
âWow, see, that is literally the last thing I would ever want to do right now. Canât we just stare at each other awkwardly from a distance?â
âIt has eyes?â
Trevor scrunches his nose. âNo, not that I can tell, but⌠I dunno, it feels like itâs watching me.â
âNeat,â Ryan says, enthusiastic.
âYou and I have very different ideas about how something can be classified as neat.â
âTrevor.â
âYeah, yeah, Iâm going,â Trevor grouses. He takes a deep breath and turns off his flashlight, tucking it into the side pocket of the little backpack heâd brought along. Itâs a bit darker without it, but the light coming from the creature is enough to see by, like itâs late dusk and he just has to let his eyes adjust.
He walks forward, step by slow step until heâs too apprehensive to get any closer. By then, the monster has gone mostly still, like itâs regarding him carefully.
Somehow, thatâs creepier than when it was writhing around.
âIâm within...fuck, like fifteen feet of it,â Trevor says quietly.
âWhatâs it doing?â Ryan asks, hushed suddenly.
âJust...looking at me? I mean, it doesnât have eyes, so I donât know how else toâ Oh, fuck.â
âWhat?â Ryan says, but Trevor canât bring himself to respond.
One lone tentacle slowly moves forward, closing the distance between them, and wiggles in front of his face like itâs trying to decide how to continue. Trevor forces himself to remain still.
The tentacle waves in front of him and then seems to caress his face, a slick, slow, muscled slide against his cheek. Trevor jerks back in surprise and backpedals, only to be tripped up by another tentacle, huge and thicker around than his thigh, that knocks him off his feet.
He flinches in preparation of hitting the floor, but a few more tentacles catch him with alarming quickness, wrapping around his midsection and his limbs.
âShit!â
âTrevor?â For once, Ryan sounds concerned. âAre you okay? Whatâs happening?â
Trevor struggles to find his voice. âItâsâ Touching meââ
Some appendage he canât see tears his backpack from him and tosses it aside. A terrified, choked sound bubbles up in his throat, and he struggles automatically. In response, it seems, heâs wrenched upwards, suspended in midair with tentacles wrapped around him, and he writhes instinctively, desperately. It doesnât seem to accomplish much, but he canât help himself.
âRyanâ!â
âBreathe,â comes Ryanâs low voice, calm, steady.
The tentacles keep him there for a time, stilling almost in response to his panic, like the creature can sense it. Eventually, he manages to breathe slowly, an in-and-out rhythm that seems to help to calm himself, remind himself that heâs there willinglyâhe knows heâs not in any real danger, despite how foreign everything is. From the information theyâve gathered, the creature has never killed a human. The tentacles are holding him securely, but not squeezing, not moving more than the gentle pulsing they seem to be doing at all times. Itâs a weird sensation, but not alarming.
He takes this moment of respite to do his best to describe to Ryan what heâs experiencing: the apparent strength of the creature (strong, if the way it can hold him still and off the ground is any indication), the way the tentacles feel on his skin (most of them are thick, a bit of give to them, and theyâre slick, leaving a faint, bright trail of their secretions along his skin and clothes), the way itâs reacting to him (curiously, it seems, or at least not with hostility).
Then, all at once, the creature really comes to life.
The ends of the tentacles glide along his body like theyâre exploring it, and Trevor twitches, squirms, equal parts ticklish and surprised. A couple delve under his shirt at the neck and sleeves, then seem to give up at the confining space. For a moment, Trevor relaxes, but then a particularly thick tentacle slides underneath the hem of his shirt only to tear the garment up the middle and rip it from his body.
Trevor yelps, struggling automatically.
âTrevor?â Ryan calls out, sounding worried. âDo you need me to send someone to get you out of there?â
âNope!â The word comes out on a near-hysterical burst of laughter. The thought of someone seeing him like this isâ No. Not happening. Death would be kinder. âNo, no, Iâm fine, itâs not hurting me.â
âWhat is it doing?â
Well, what the hell can Trevor say to that? Caressing my naked chest with its creepy, glowing tentacles, nbd, average Tuesday night for me. âYou know what, donât worry about it.â
One tentacle goes travelling up from his bellybutton to one of his nipples, and he jolts, back arching involuntarily. For a moment, the tentacle goes still, then flicks against his nipple again like itâs curious, like this is an experiment for the creature as much as itâs an experiment for Trevor and the others.
Thereâs a certain amount of intelligence to this thing that Ryanâs probably going to find fascinating but Trevorâs just finding deeply uncomfortable in the moment, especially since it wonât stop fucking touching him.
For a minute or two, the tentacles seem content only to hold him still and play with his chest, thinner appendages coming from who the hell knows where to flick and tug and pinch at his nipples. Trevor does his best not to react, to clench his jaw and hold still, but it only seems to make the creature more determined. Despite his best efforts, itâs not long before heâs writhing, breaths coming in short and hitched as he forces himself to stifle the little noises threatening to leave him and, well, heâs always known heâs had sensitive nipples; thatâs often a fun, useful thing in bed, but right now Trevorâs bemoaning it.
Literally.
One thicker tentacle wraps around his chest over his nipples and pulses strongly, the sensation almost like a rhythmic sucking, and a choked moan breaks free from his throat. He arches, hips rocking, very painfully aware that his cock is stirring in his jeans.
âTrevor?â
Heâs not sure how heâd forgotten Ryan was there on the comm, still listening. What are the chances that Ryan hasnât heard the desperate noises heâs been making?
âYou sound, uh. Is everything okay?â
Death. Death should come now.
âDo I sound like Iâm in pain to you, Ryan?â Trevor grates out, kicking out slightly when he feels something tugging at his pant leg.
âWell, uh, no. Not exactly. Itâs more likeââ
âI know what you think it sounds like!â Trevor says, a little shrill.
âRight.â Ryan coughs. When he speaks again, he sounds a little more professional. âCan you give me a rundown on its reactions, its mannerisms?â
âIâm not narrating this!â
âWe really need to figure out a way to get a video feed to work down there,â Ryan says thoughtfully.
âNo, we donât!â A tentacle delves underneath the hem of his right pant leg and starts winding its way up at the same time another works its way past his waistband. âFuck. Yeah, no, we really donât, definitely unnecessary, goddamn it.â
âWhatâs it doing?â Even now, Ryan canât seem to hide his curiosity and excitement.
âStop talking,â Trevor pleads. âSeriously, I donât need you and yourâscience boner right now.â
âScience boner,â Ryan echoes.
âShut up.â
âItâs just, itâs interesting how the only word you could come up with is âboner,â consideringââ
âHow much do I have to pay you to stop talking.â He breaks off when he hears an ominous ripping sound, and looks down in despair. âOh, come on!â
âWhat?â
âIt tore my fucking pants! I paid like eighty dollars for these jeans.â
âWho the hell pays eighty dollars for jeans?â
âBold words coming from Dad Jeans McMike.â
âTheyâre not dad jeans,â Ryan argues, sounding petulant.
âWhatever happened to those jeans Gavin made you buy?â Itâs really, really weird to be having a totally normal conversation in these circumstances, but Trevor will take any kind of distraction he can get.
âTheyâre uncomfortable,â Ryan mutters. âI donât like them.â
âYou just have to get used to them,â Trevor reasons. âSeriously, itâll be worth it; they make your ass look great.â
âWhat?â
Fortunatelyâor unfortunatelyâTrevor is spared from having to come up with an explanation for that, thoughts derailed when a slick tentacle of mid-thickness finds its way into his boxers and slides against his dick.
He jerks, a strangled gasp escaping him.
âTrevor?â
âIf youâre about to ask me to explain in detail whatâs happening, Iâm gonna take a rock from this cave and use it to smash every single one of your computers.â
Ryan pauses. âActually, now that you mention it, bringing a sample backââ
âShut up,â Trevor snaps, but the heat of his words is lost when the tentacle wraps rather decisively around his cock. He swears, pulling futilely against the ones holding his arms still. Heâs even more aware of the pulsing action of the tentacles like this, definitely a foreign sensation around his dick, but itâs notâitâs not bad, is the thing.
Ryan sounds mildly petulant. âWell, I expect a report, then, at least, when youâreâuh, finished?â Trevor lets out another moan and Ryan quiets himself almost abruptly.
Results of the creature understanding English still seem to be inconclusive, because when Trevor firmly tells the thing not to rip his boxers, it seems to pause for a moment, then tear them from waistband to hem in one sharp pull, which means it either doesnât understand a word Trevorâs saying or itâs an ornery fucking asshole.
At that point, well, Trevorâs not going to be standingâor suspendedâthere totally naked with his too-trendy-for-this-situation sneakers still on (heâs in the clutches of a supernatural creature that seems hellbent on getting him off, sure, but Trevorâs got standards), so he kicks off his shoes all on his own.
With better access to him, the tentacle at his waist takes the opportunity to further its exploration, which comes in the form of stroking and pulsing and writhing around his cock with differing patterns untilâuntil, god, Trevorâs completely hard and flushed clear down to his shoulders and gasping for breath, struggling as much as he can against the tentacles holding him.
Except now itâs not with the instinct to get awayâitâs with the pure, desperate desire to end the torture and get a hand around himself so he can come.
Maybe the creature can sense his need, or maybe itâs just coincidence, but either way the tentacle around his cock starts working at him in earnest, each movement sending little choked moans tumbling from his mouth, like itâs finally figured out exactly what gets him going and now itâs using that knowledge to execute the best kind of torture upon him.
Heâs right on the edge but canât quite get there, and he can feel hot, frustrated tears threatening to fall from his eyes.
âOh, fuckâfuck, fuck, pleaseââ He breaks off with a gasp, shivering, and lets his head fall back, resigning himself to whatâs happeningâto the fact that heâs at the complete mercy of this creature.
âTrevor,â says Ryan again, except this time it sounds less like a concerned question and more like a reverent sigh.
And Trevorâgod, he should be mortified, should be begging Ryan to turn off the communication signal and leave him to this humiliation, but somehow Ryanâs voice just serves to finally, finally push him over the edge.
He comes over his stomach with a sharp, shaky cry that verges on a sob, his back arching as his hips jerk forward. The climax is wrung out of him, the tentacle not stopping for a second as it milks him dry. Eventually, heâs writhing for a different reason, eyes screwed shut, overstimulated and struggling against the appendages holding him.
It doesnât let up for a few moments, seconds that stretch thin and near-painful. When it does, the tentacle around his cock pulling away, he goes limp in the monsterâs hold, letting the tentacles take his weight. Moaning faintly, his eyes flutter open.
For a time, heâs only aware of his own panting breaths, and the ringing in his ears, and the gentle pulsing of the tentacles still touching his skin.
For a time, he doesnât quite recognize what the faint, short, staticy noises coming from his earpiece are.
Then his eyes widen.
âRyan?â he says tentatively, because itâ
It definitely sounds like Ryanâs getting off.
The noises stop abruptly.
âShit,â Ryan breathes, voice embarrassed and tight and guilty, like heâs a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. âShit, Iâm sorry, I wasnâtââ
Trevor has to scramble (metaphorically, of course, because fuck knows the tentacles havenât let go of him yet, and thatâs a little concerning, a little thrilling) to calm him down.
âWhoa, hey, relax, itâs fine.â
âItâs fine?â Ryan repeats, the response punctuated with a hysterical little laugh. âItâsâ Itâs a Human Resources sexual harassment lawsuit, is what it isââ
âWe donât have a Human Resources department, Ryanââ
âEither wayââ
âIâm telling you itâs okay,â Trevor snaps, a little exasperated. âWhat, do you need me to say in detail that Iâm okay with you jerking off to me getting fucked by a weird tentacle creature? Because Iââ He cuts himself off when the poorly-muffled sound of Ryan moaning reaches his ears. âOh.â
âShut up,â Ryan says, and for once itâs Ryan whoâs embarrassed and not the other way around, isnât that nice.
And, honestly, Trevor has a lot to say about that, but the second he opens his mouth, the words heâd planned to say come out as a half-yelp, half garbled noise, because one tentacle pushes between his parted lips and two others wrench his thighs apart, exposing him completely.
He hears Ryanâs concerned question only vaguely, too preoccupied with not choking on the appendage in his mouth, but thatâs not enough to distract him from the thinner tentacle winding up between his legs and ignoring his dick entirely in favor of sliding back to brush against his hole.
Trevor jerks, stiffens, and the monster seems to respond in kind; it shivers and then stills, holding him and drawing out the tentacle in his mouth but not acting any further.
âFuck,â he manages, struggling to catch his breath.
âAre you okay?â comes Ryanâs voice, like heâs been saying it a few times. Trevor sucks in a slow, deep breath and shuts his eyes.
And he nods.
âYeah,â he mumbles. âYeah, Iâm okay, I justâneeded a second.â
And like that, the creature comes alive again. The tentacle prods at his mouth again and he allows it in, allows it to thrust shallowly in as he squirms, another making its way down from his shoulders to his lower back.
He knows whatâs coming, but it doesnât stop him from jolting when the thin tentacle starts to enter him. Trevorâs been fucked before, has experimented with all manner of toys, but this isâgod, itâs something totally new, something that gives a little to his tight walls but doesnât hesitate to push as soon as heâs adjusted.
So itâs careful, more of a gentle exploration than a rough intrusion, but the moment it seems to sense that heâs getting used to it, the tentacle twists inside him and forces a desperate cry out of him before starting to thrust, relentless and so deep it makes him twitch.
He doesnât even realize heâs making gasping, desperate, punched-out noises until Ryan murmurs his name.
And the thing isâ Ryan sounds wrecked, breath coming in short and strained. Trevor opens his mouth to say itâs fine, Iâm fine, but what ends up coming out is a broken moan accompanied by a full-bodied shudder.
He goes lax, gives into the hold the creature has on him, and if he were a person more inclined towards a sense of self-preservation, maybe heâd be afraid.
As it is, he just rocks back against the appendage thrusting into him, his cock beginning to harden again despite all odds.
âTrevor,â comes Ryanâs voice again in his ear, but this time he sounds worried.
Trevor sucks in a shaky breath and makes a point to actually respond, the tentacle in his mouth pulling away to allow him to do so (and so maybe it is more sentient than theyâd thought?).
âIâm okay,â he gasps out, arching sharply when the tentacle inside him drags over his prostate. âItâs notâhurting meââ
âItâs getting you off again,â Ryan breathes out, quiet and awed, and even with the overstimulation and chaos Trevor can think enough to hope Ryanâs got a hand around his cock.
And, Christ, speaking of whichâa tentacle about the same size as the one inside him wraps around his dick and starts to work him over again. He cries out, jolting, the sensation just at the confusing edge of too much
âTell me if you need a rescue team,â Ryan says, but again the words seem to be coming out breathless.
Trevor lets out a hysterical laugh. âI donât,â he manages between desperate little choked sounds. âI justâ Fuck, justâtell me what youâre doing. Tell me youâre not just sitting there and taking fuckingâfucking notes about this.â
Ryan laughs. Itâs a sweet noise, despite everything. âI,â he starts. Pauses. Trevor can hear the wet click of his throat as he swallows, tries to focus on that instead of how hard his dick is or how close he is to coming again or the rough, rhythmic thrusts the creature is keeping up.
Ryan inhales shakily.
âIâm. Iâve got my fly open, and Iâ God. Iâm getting off, Trevor, Jesus, is that what you want to hear?â
Trevor laughs again, gasping and so, so close. âYeah,â he says, eyes fluttering shut. âKinda.â Every thrust into him makes him jolt, and he feels so full, itâs almost unbearable.
Ryan lets out this long, shuddery sigh. âIâm getting off,â he repeats, âand Iâmâgonna come,â and that comes out on a desperate little whine.
And, âYeah,â Trevor gasps out again, and his bodyâs tense and arched, every muscle tight. âFuck, me too, me too, meââ
And he does.
He comes with his eyes screwed shut so tight he sees stars, hips jerking, any semblance of coherent speech leaving him entirely in favor of desperate, sobbing little cries. Itâs so good.
It lasts too long, or not nearly long enough, but either way he goes totally limp, only vaguely aware of the tentacle inside him carefully sliding out, and the others slowly lowering him down. His ears are ringing, and when the high-pitched whine fades out, he hears Ryan gasping for breath, likeâ
Like he just came, too.
Trevor fully comes to on the cold rock floor of the cave. Itâs not the greatest post-coital awakening heâs experienced, but heâs content regardless, the cool of the granite calming the heat of his skin.
Groaning quietly, he rubs his eyes, then stares up at the bioluminescent ceiling above him, shining like itâs full of stars.
âFuck,â he mumbles, sitting up. He winces, sore, sweat and fuckingâmonster slick cooling on his skin.
âTrevor?â
âIf you ask me if Iâm alright,â Trevor says, struggling to his feet, âIâm gonna break your kneecaps and then stand there while you roll around in pain and ask you if youâre okay.â
Thereâs a pause, and then Ryan says, âOkay, butââ
âIâm fine,â Trevor says, exasperated. The creature appears to have reverted back to its docile stateâwhatever the hell that means. âIâm fine, but Iâm leaving.â He doesnât have it in him to stick around long enough to find out what, if anything, happens next.
âWait,â Ryan says.
Trevor huffs, slowly gathering what remains of his clothing from the cave, trying not to get too close to the still, glowing mass of the creature lest he agitate it. âWhat?â
âSamples,â Ryan says promptly, like he didnât just come to the sounds and mental images of Trevor getting fucked mere minutes ago. Professional as always. Asshole. Trevorâs definitely gonna ask him out for coffee when he gets back, but still. Asshole.
Trevor looks down at himself, arms full of clothing dirty from laying on the cave floor, skin sticky with unknown fluids from the creature, andâ
âYou know,â he says, âI think Iâve got more than enough for you already.â















