Hentai: Atlantis aka The Tentacle Fic
Prreeee-senting ... the Tentacle fic -- released into the wild by makesmewannadie enabled (and then beta’d and then titled) by green_grrl and my proof is here. My shame, apparently, is nowhere to be found.
Weir sat back, eyes wide. She should have known better, John thought. When had McKay ever been… “Rodney, this is not a toy.”
He waved her off and leaned in closer to John, “Did you have control? Over all of them, I mean? Even a two-fingered typist like Wells could enter data with twice the, well, I suppose fingers no longer applies, but oh!” He lowered his voice to a stage whisper that carried well out of the open doors of the conference room. “You said you were in the shower when you transformed. Did you ja…”
Lowered voice or not, that was enough. John let the feet of his chair drop to the floor and walked out, ignoring Elizabeth saying, “I think that’s sufficient for the day, gentlemen.” Behind him Rodney muttered, “so sorry to shock an adult woman, but yes, men use their hands to bathe themselves instead of sponges or loofahs or soaps that read like recipes. Sheppard, wait!”
John considered for a moment just walking away; the barracks, the unofficial, but no less absolute military domain was closer than the mess and Rodney might actually be enthusiastic enough to continue the conversation in the general public. Especially since he was still talking.
“You did, you absolutely did, didn’t you?” Rodney grinned. “What was it like? Get as detailed as you like. In the interest of research, of course.”
“It was…”
alien. Neither the hot, wet warmth of sliding into a woman or the cooler, soapy slickness of his usual post-run shower exercises, but lukewarm, unmistakably foreign. The tickle of scales, undeniably not the edge of a callus, and the too-tight pull of suction, but more than that, the lack of control. A man expects to know where his fingertips are and what they do, and this was less like jacking off and more like American Pie at a sushi bar. Bits poking where they didn’t belong, and one tentacle wrapping around his balls like a Portuguese Man O’War, too tight, too much, and when he came it was a blow, getting hit by a truck, an uncontrolled explosion.
He’d had to unwrap the lax tentacles, reaching behind his balls to pull the tip out of his own ass, unwinding his cock from a nest of flesh. That part he hadn’t told Beckett. Wasn’t planning on telling anyone, ever. And certainly not the King of Subtlety who had him cornered with scientific curiosity.
“…interesting,” John said.
“Interesting? Interesting?” Rodney hissed. “No, I went to uni, I’ve seen anime. I know what you can do with tentacles.”
“Yeah, I tend to just think of the mad scientist in the Spiderman movie.”
“Ask Okamura to define the word hentai some day. Allow some time for the explanation, but make sure that Elizabeth’s not around. But that’s fiction, that’s nothing. What happened? What did it feel like? Was there a personality change, because with the Iratus thing you got a little…” McKay wiggled his hands in the way that normally meant a disconnect in power supply and for some reason, that was it, that pissed him off.
“What do you want from me, McKay?”
“Something more than ‘interesting’. You aren’t a complete idiot, despite not inconsiderable evidence to the contrary. You are the only one the device works on, and there has to be a purpose to it, other than purely…”
“Masturbatory?” Too angry to dare touch him, John leaned in close. “What, McKay? The passworded j-pegs on the physics shared server not doing it for you anymore? No wonder you’re so fascinated by my alien sex life.” He kept his hands carefully at his sides and his voice low. “My DNA is of public interest, every woman I meet passes a gauntlet of the entire leadership team of this mission, but my jacking off is none of your business.” He stormed off, realizing four steps in that he was headed to public areas. Thankfully, McKay didn’t follow, just shouted after him.
“My first thought was data entry, I’ll have you know!”
word count: 672
fandom: Stargate:Atlantis
rating: ohnoyoudin't adult for mention of what we all do.
Weir sat back, eyes wide. She should have known better, John thought. When had McKay ever been… “Rodney, this is not a toy.”
He waved her off and leaned in closer to John, “Did you have control? Over all of them, I mean? Even a two-fingered typist like Wells could enter data with twice the, well, I suppose fingers no longer applies, but oh!” He lowered his voice to a stage whisper that carried well out of the open doors of the conference room. “You said you were in the shower when you transformed. Did you ja…”
Lowered voice or not, that was enough. John let the feet of his chair drop to the floor and walked out, ignoring Elizabeth saying, “I think that’s sufficient for the day, gentlemen.” Behind him Rodney muttered, “so sorry to shock an adult woman, but yes, men use their hands to bathe themselves instead of sponges or loofahs or soaps that read like recipes. Sheppard, wait!”
John considered for a moment just walking away; the barracks, the unofficial, but no less absolute military domain was closer than the mess and Rodney might actually be enthusiastic enough to continue the conversation in the general public. Especially since he was still talking.
“You did, you absolutely did, didn’t you?” Rodney grinned. “What was it like? Get as detailed as you like. In the interest of research, of course.”
“It was…”
alien. Neither the hot, wet warmth of sliding into a woman or the cooler, soapy slickness of his usual post-run shower exercises, but lukewarm, unmistakably foreign. The tickle of scales, undeniably not the edge of a callus, and the too-tight pull of suction, but more than that, the lack of control. A man expects to know where his fingertips are and what they do, and this was less like jacking off and more like American Pie at a sushi bar. Bits poking where they didn’t belong, and one tentacle wrapping around his balls like a Portuguese Man O’War, too tight, too much, and when he came it was a blow, getting hit by a truck, an uncontrolled explosion.
He’d had to unwrap the lax tentacles, reaching behind his balls to pull the tip out of his own ass, unwinding his cock from a nest of flesh. That part he hadn’t told Beckett. Wasn’t planning on telling anyone, ever. And certainly not the King of Subtlety who had him cornered with scientific curiosity.
“…interesting,” John said.
“Interesting? Interesting?” Rodney hissed. “No, I went to uni, I’ve seen anime. I know what you can do with tentacles.”
“Yeah, I tend to just think of the mad scientist in the Spiderman movie.”
“Ask Okamura to define the word hentai some day. Allow some time for the explanation, but make sure that Elizabeth’s not around. But that’s fiction, that’s nothing. What happened? What did it feel like? Was there a personality change, because with the Iratus thing you got a little…” McKay wiggled his hands in the way that normally meant a disconnect in power supply and for some reason, that was it, that pissed him off.
“What do you want from me, McKay?”
“Something more than ‘interesting’. You aren’t a complete idiot, despite not inconsiderable evidence to the contrary. You are the only one the device works on, and there has to be a purpose to it, other than purely…”
“Masturbatory?” Too angry to dare touch him, John leaned in close. “What, McKay? The passworded j-pegs on the physics shared server not doing it for you anymore? No wonder you’re so fascinated by my alien sex life.” He kept his hands carefully at his sides and his voice low. “My DNA is of public interest, every woman I meet passes a gauntlet of the entire leadership team of this mission, but my jacking off is none of your business.” He stormed off, realizing four steps in that he was headed to public areas. Thankfully, McKay didn’t follow, just shouted after him.
“My first thought was data entry, I’ll have you know!”
word count: 672
fandom: Stargate:Atlantis
rating: ohnoyoudin't adult for mention of what we all do.