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bjorkshire-pudding · 1 month ago

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This fic contains non-consensual elements. Please do not read, if such content makes you uncomfortable.

AN: Thank you @nanamiscocksleeve for hosting this event. October or Kinktober is a month that I have always wanted to write for but end up not doing so for lack of time and motivation. But this event made me want to push myself. I'm late but I'm here. Thank you for waiting. (Contd. below)

Tw: non con, dark content

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Growing up near the ocean meant you were always aware of just how powerful and dark it was.

The strong arms pulled you to the depths, far below the surface of the water. You cursed yourself. Why had you been so arrogant? You knew the ocean was not an entity to be toyed with. You could feel the oxygen slowly leaving your lungs as your captor swam further and further away from the silver-topped waves.

You regretted everything: wearing this frilly new bikini despite it barely covering your voluptuous curves. Wading out with your friends under the moonlight. Drifting too far before realising you weren't close to them anymore and they would never hear your cries for help.

In the darkness of the night, you were unable to see anything around you but the hand that wrapped itself around your ankle pulling you deep. You were a good swimmer, but this was…

Your lungs started to burn, still the grip on you never loosened. Instead, you felt sharp claws dig into the flesh of your arm. You let out a cry of pain, muffled by the weight of the water, and immediately a pair of cold lips closed over yours, exhaling into you. An acrid salty flavour filled your mouth, and you tried to push your attacker away, but they were far stronger than you, the shackle on your arm tightening further…

You heard your heartbeat pumping in your ears, louder and louder, lungs struggling to hold on. The world around you dissolved into ink. You wanted to hit out, scream, but instead you felt yourself getting weaker and weaker. Your assaulter felt it too, slackening their grip. It didn't matter why you were the one taken or what would happen next. You weren't ready for death. The darkness closed in on you, and then there was nothing…

*****

When you woke, you were still surrounded by water in all directions, but the lack of light didn’t bother you as much as before. Even through the ultramarine gloom, you could recognise the vague shapes of coral and—

A soft swish of water moving attracted your attention. You whipped your head around and inhaled sharply—you could breathe? How? The water in your lungs should’ve killed you by now.

Still adjusting to the changes in your body, you watched as a strange figure approached you. This must have been the one who took you away from the surface—only, they weren't quite human.

Legend spoke of the existence of creatures of the deep: not quite man, not quite fish, but something else entirely. Merpeople…a merman. These were, of course, brushed off as old wives’ tales that did not hold any weight. But swimming before your eyes was the very legend himself.

His long dark hair flowed with the gentle current as he hovered in front of you. A wicked smile was plastered on his face, sharp white teeth gleaming contrastingly. Your breath hitched and you lowered your gaze— as though some force beyond your control was pushing you down.

The merman was adorned in strings of pearls and other precious stones but wore little else. A long sapphire tail swished below your feet, swooping under you and pulling you closer to him. Extending a scaled webbed hand, he caressed your cheek, sharp claws instead of nails trailing down your jaw like a warning. Glinting gold threads ran down his finned back and travelled down to the end of his tail.

Good. A rumbling voice in your head jolted you out of your stupor. I feared you would sleep through this.

Writhing in the merman’s grasp, you desperately tried to find the source of this strange voice, but there was no other living being in sight. The finger trailing down the side of your face dipped to your collarbone and slid down to the swell of your breasts. You shivered at the touch—in fear or in anticipation?

The hand squeezed your breast, making you jump, and the creature hissed in response: I can smell your fear and you smell divine…

He pulled at the strings holding your bikini top together, and it fell away with no effort, your nipples hardening from the chill and the merman’s touch; instinctively, you moved to cover your breasts with your hands and pushed the merman away.

In the dark water, the flimsy top floated away, settling on to a rock below. You remembered your friends calling the swimsuit sexy in the shop and insisted on you buying it because what man could resist?

Turns out it was not just human men…

SLAP!

Your cheek stung, the webbed hand held up threateningly:

Behave, human.

You cowered and cupped your cheek — hot to the touch despite the cold ocean water — trapped in the grip of this merman’s tail. Another set of fingers touched you now, hands running up and down your body, exploring every inch of skin, each fold, given its due diligence. You suppressed the urge to cover up, your smarting cheek the only reminder needed to stop yourself.

The smile on your abductor's face widened, rows of sharp teeth glittering in a wicked mirth. He used his tail to push between your legs now, rubbing against your thighs. His scales grazed your skin, and for a moment, for one horrible, tempting moment, you wondered what they'd feel like against your core.

As if he had heard your thoughts, the merman delicately pulled the strings tying the bottom half of your bikini. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the orange strip of fabric fall to the ocean floor, joining the matching top nearby, but you were much more focused on how the merman’s hand had begun to drift between your thighs.

Unfamiliar territory, but he knew where to touch, slipping his fingers between your folds. A swipe – then a taste, flicking his tongue in excitement. He threw his head back, relishing the flavour.

Sweet.

A muffled moan passed your lips. No, you wanted to say. Why? You wanted to cry out. It shouldn’t have felt so good.

There was a chuckle from the merman before he swam down, face right at your cunt, but this was more than you had bargained for. You immediately pulled your legs together and pushed away from him, kicking your feet to swim upwards. Whatever he wanted, he wouldn't get it so easily.

You had to go up. Up would mean the surface. You would be free. Up would mean…

The merman watched you swim away slowly, following without a sound. You swam well, but he was faster. The swell of your ass and bouncing tits made his cock stir. What had once been driven by curiosity was now being driven by…hunger.

Seeing his silhouette approach, you cried out, but there was nothing to be done. He extended an arm and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you to him. You struggled and pounded your fists against his firm chest, bubbles escaping your mouth where there should have been sound. Unfortunately for you, it only served to heighten his hunger.

The merman had never held a body like yours: soft, pudgy flesh that dipped into enticing contours, full rounded breasts that hung like the fruits of Eden. Arms thick and muscular, tanned by the warmth of the sun's rays. And petal-like lips that pulled into a frown of disapproval.

You continued to struggle, but his grip remained steady. Ignoring your wriggling protests, he flicked his tongue between your breasts, trailing it down your chest and soft tummy till he reached your crotch once again.

Be good.

You jolted as his tongue snaked out and rubbed against your clit. He wasn’t—he couldn’t—

Sweet…

Strong arms parted your legs this time, holding you in place by your ass. Trying to escape was futile – all you could do was whimper helplessly. The merman’s tongue lapped at your pussy— slow flicks that took their time to explore you fully. He knew what he was doing. His lips found your clit and closed over the small bud, softly sucking on it. You squeezed the merman’s head between your thighs as your head fell back, soundless moans escaping you and disappearing into the darkness above. You could feel nothing else in this damp, muffled existence. Only him.

Filled with loathing and pleasure, you reached down, carding your fingers through his silky hair, pushing your hips into his face, further and further as he smiled against your skin, his hunger only growing with each lick and taste. You should have pushed away. You longed to do so still. And yet, you pushed into him more and more as his claws dug into your skin.

Geto. The voice came once again creeping into your mind soft as a spiders web. Say my name. Say it.

“Geto!” You cried out, almost like a prayer. The name drifted upwards through the sea and towards the sky somewhere far above. Your orgasm drew closer, effectively pulled from your tightening core. The merman felt you squirm and kept going, unwavering: tongue almost flat against your pussy, licking thick stripes from the bottom to your clit. Two webbed fingers found their way to your opening, pushing into you roughly. The fingers curled inside as he sucked on your clit once more.

You squeezed your eyes shut. This was wrong. It was so wrong. But it felt so good. How? It didn’t make any sense! You’d never felt such ecstasy in your life, falling apart in the arms of this monster known only in legend, your legs spread wide as the creature made sure his teeth didn't pierce the soft flesh, pleasure heightening with each continued touch.

Without warning, your climax hit you, wracking through your body and making you spasm and quiver in the merman’s hold. Hips bucking into his face, you rode out your desperate orgasm, feeling every touch Geto made with his tongue and fingers. The water rippled around you, scaring away a school of small fish.

Geto swam up to your eye level once again, examining you carefully as you twitched and shuddered through your orgasm. He gently placed your arms around his neck, waiting for you to finish.

Good?

You nodded in response; it wasn't like you could hide your glazed-over eyes, still coming down from the involuntary high. It had been the merman who had drawn the arrow, and made sure of its well-aimed release, the same merman who now pulled you in for a searing kiss.

His lips were icy-cold - a striking contrast against yours. Yet he kissed with a ferociousness that threatened to consume you whole. “Geto…” You moaned against his mouth, the vibrations of sound the only other sensation you could feel apart from his lips. He only responded with a hum: a rumbling melody that cut through the waters. His hips pushed up against you and you looked down. Through a small slit in his tail, his cock stood at attention. Unlike any human anatomy, it seemed the ocean had had its way here. In spite of yourself, you studied the appendage, observing it just long enough for Geto to notice. It was longer than any you had seen before, but not very thick. The tip was pointed and not round, but didn't seem like it'd be painful. It matched the colour of his scales, gold threads running all the way around it like veins.

A hand encircled your throat, drawing your gaze back to his face: a beautiful prince of the ocean draped in glittering jewels, silky black hair that the current played with, dark amethyst eyes that did not leave you even once. What was there to fear, to doubt? Any apprehensions you might have had drifted into the impenetrable waters, carried away by the waves. You laced your fingers behind his head, and he pressed against your body, scales rubbing against your skin. His cock-head prodded at your fat thighs and you spread your legs of your own accord this time, allowing it to slip in. The water helped, almost as though a living being itself, allowing him to pull you further onto his length.

His lips met your throat now, gently pressing soft kisses against the thin skin.

Warm…You are beautiful. And you are mine.

You nodded. His. You would be his. There was no denying it.

Geto’s cock now bottomed out in you. Still raw from your climax, your insides twitched at the sensation. It was so new. So different. It was as if someone else had taken over your body, making you react in ways that you’d never imagined. Who was this person inside you, moaning and pushing yourself closer to him? Who had you become?

His broad chest pressed against your breasts, and you moaned at the sensation of him grazing your nipples ever so slightly. Your fingers found the fin on the merman’s back and you ran the top down its arch, drawing out a hiss from his lips. He thrust up in response, and you cried out at the sudden feeling of his cock hitting your cervix. He grinned at you again with those rows of shark-like teeth – threatening despite his smile. His arms around your waist, he manoeuvred your body according to his will, slamming you onto his cock repeatedly, each thrust sending you further and further into blissful stupor. Your head dropped into the crook of his neck, hair tangling with his. But he did not stop, thrusting faster and harder. He could feel the jiggle of your body against his, and it drove him insane with need. Fat flesh, full tits, thick ass — you had been the perfect choice. Everything he could ever dream of. He never wanted to let you go.

Geto chased his release, desperate to fill your cunt with his seed. The effect of the potion he had slipped into you earlier would wear off soon, and he had to get you back to the surface before it was too late. His thrusts grew sloppier, more erratic, as he continued pumping in you, fingers tangled in your hair as another hand held your waist. Your soft mewls and moans - which he could hear, even if you couldn’t - spurred him on further, and with a deep groan he spilled into you, pressing you as close to him as possible. He would not waste a single drop.

When he was finished, Geto pulled your head close to his, kissing you again. Good human. You did so well.

You smiled at his praise. You did well for him, and it filled your heart with joy and relief. But a nagging feeling told you it wasn't right. You shouldn't have. You didn't belong here.

Geto held your arm once again and swam, this time towards the surface. “Geto…?” You carefully called out, your body feeling heavier by the second. He hummed once again, but you couldn't think of something to say.

The water rushed past the two of you as he swam faster with you in his arms, the current of the ocean almost passing through you. Your chest began to burn, and it was so much harder to breathe. Around you, the ocean darkened, the burning sensation spreading through your lungs. “No,” you gasped, but nothing came out. You grabbed onto the merman’s arm, desperate to tell him somehow, but he only swam faster. Whatever little you could see of him was blurry, the ocean calling you back down despite how close you were to the sky again. Your surroundings faded from sight and you kicked at the water in a futile attempt to reach air. The last thing you felt before blacking out was Geto pulling you into his embrace as he continued the climb to the surface.

******

You came to on a secluded patch of your hometown beach. The sun had just started to rise above the horizon, the sky turning lighter and lighter as you coughed up salt water onto the wet sand. It burned in your throat, and you had never been more thankful for the oxygen that filled your lungs now. You were wearing your bikini again, but you remembered it drifting away in the deep. Had it all been a dream? Had you just drowned under a wave and been regurgitated back by the sea?

You sat up slowly, looking out at the grey morning waves. In the distance there was a flash of a brilliant blue. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you clutched at the pearls around your throat…pearls around your throat…

A reminder. A promise. A warning.

MINE.

AN: This fic would not have seen the light of day if it wasn't for @ominouslywritinginmyhead. Not only did she rewrite whole chunks of garbled prose, she also encouraged me gently to overcome my blocks and finally finish the bastard. Thank you for taking the time to look over it with such haste even giving up your Halloween party with Toji cosplayers to help my smutty literature. Thank you for your support and your love. I couldn't have done it without you Saber.

#fic recs

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bjorkshire-pudding · 2 months ago

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At fifteen, Tengen Uzui is a groom thrice over, yet none of his weddings are alike.

There are commonalities threading the three ceremonies together, of course. Standards and expectations, like the attire (stiff and colorless), or the drab recitation of vows (prewritten, emotionless). Such rituals are set in stone, as archaic as they are unquestionable. So much so that even someone like Tengen can’t be bothered to argue against them.

But in every way his weddings are the same, they are also as different as the women — the girls — who become his brides. And, he finds that he wouldn’t trade one for the other.

His wedding with Hinatsuru is soft. Awkward, as he’s fifteen and she’s thirteen, and this affair is more for their families than it is for them. A formality; the execution of the contract reached between their fathers years before, when Tengen could barely say the word marriage, let alone understand what it meant.

But Hinatsuru’s smile is as gentle and as warm as her hand squeezing his, and the familiarity of it lessens the tension in his shoulders. They are both children, and children too often end up pawns in the games played by adults, but children know how to love. And Tengen loves Hinatsuru; loves her quiet strength and soothing nature. She brings out a softness in him he’s fairly certain his father believes was beaten out, and he loves her all the more for it. For years, he’s managed to cling onto his sense of self thanks to her and the quiet moments they shared, sitting side by side in the grass, enjoying the beauty of a world their heritage rejects. With Hinatsuru, Tengen feels like the man he wants to be, rather than the weapon his father has molded.

Tengen seals his vows with a chaste kiss on her cheek and an affectionate tap on the tip of her nose. Even when tradition demands he escort her out to make their first debut as husband and wife, he finds himself distracted by the blush in her cheeks and the pretty mole beneath her eye. The way she looks at him and really sees him, Tengen, the man and not Tengen the killer.

His wedding to Makio takes place a month later, and unlike the formal perfection he’d endured with Hinatsuru, this one kicks off with a literal bang.

Though trained in stealth, the Shinobi still have a flair for the dramatics. Explosives and smoke screens were a tried and trusted distraction, the perfect means of escape when things got tricky. Fireworks in particular were a useful tool, flashy and mesmerizing in the way their booming colors could command the draw attention from any and all watching eyes, yet innocuous enough not to raise suspicions.

When Makio approaches him the night before their wedding with a box of stolen fireworks and a handful of matches, he doesn’t dare turn her away. Instead, he meets her daring grin with a mischevious one of his own. He helps her into the early hours of dawn, carefully setting each firework and trigger, ensuring maximum flash and extravagance would take over the ceremony the second the priest lights the ceremonial incense.

Tengen’s second bride-to-be is twelve and precocious, and she’s made it clear that she cannot tolerate stuffy formalities. Her clan is wealthy and proper in every way she despises, and their uppity sense of self-importance and propriety suffocates her. For years, Tengen has sat by and watched as they tried to cage her, and every time she neared her breaking point, he was there to assure her that freedom was only a few years and a tired ceremony away. He would not chain her, not when her spirit and fire was what he adored most about her.

So, Tengen is as much to blame as new bride when an explosion of colored fire and smoke is set off inside the shrine just as their clans gather for the pair’s union. It’s a wonder the ancient structure is still standing by the time the Red Dragon — an aptly named firework that spreads its great, fiery wings — roars its way through the entrance, incinerating half the shoji to cinders.

Her father lays a heavy hand on Makio’s shoulder, his knuckles white and his ire, hot. Tengen can see the fear flash across her eyes, can practically taste the dread rolling in her gut. He’s experienced his own father’s wrath too many times.

Except, Makio’s father doesn’t own her anymore. The contract signed with his clan guaranteed that. He has no business laying his cruel hands on her, and Tengen will cut them off if he tries, as is his right.

Makio’s father pretends not to be cowed by Tengen’s threats. He’s seen the same fire in Tengen’s eyes that blazed in his own daughter’s, and he’s too used to stamping it out. Except, he forgets that Tengen is bigger and stronger, not to mention twice as vindictive as his new wife, and that has him wrenching his father-in-law’s arm painfully behind his back, until the joint pops.

Tengen’s grip strengthens around the old man’s forearm, no longer in warning, but in promise. “I will handle my wife, now.”

Makio’s shoulders relax, and the thin line of her lips soften into a furtive smirk. The battle is over before it can be waged, and the ceremony is held outdoors.

And handle her, Tengen does: by handing her off to Hinatsuru after the celebration ends. The three of them are now bonded in blood and ink, and they’re howling with laughter as they recount the screwed-up, pinched faces of their clansmen watching the shrine crumble under the dazzling force of the fireworks that celebrated the new union.

Suma’s wedding is joyous. Not that his other two weddings were lacking in it; more that Suma’s beaming happiness is infectious, and though Tengen cannot wait to be finished with stiff ceremonies and the dour, drawn faces of his clan, he also cannot help but share in her elation. She bounces toward him at the altar with a smile brighter than the summer sun, and she leaves her family behind without a single look back. Her eyes shine brighter than the stars as they exchange their vows and sip from each other’s sake cups. Even the bitterness of the alcohol isn’t enough to dampen her smile, and the twitch in her eye as it slides down her throat could just as easily be chocked up to the strain in her cheeks.

Afterwards, she hurls herself into Hinatsuru’s and Makio’s arms with equal fervor, laughing and crying and singing with excitement and promises that she will work just as hard as they do, will become strong and dependable, and together, they’ll be the best kunoichi the Shinobi have ever seen.

The honeymoon is spent near the sea, and for one week, they are not shinobi and kunoichi. They are not even a husband and his three wives. They are children, laughing and running freely along the shore, splashing each other with cold water and digging their toes into the sand, anchoring themselves against the waves that lap at their shins. No death, no bloodshed, no darkness; only the sun, bright and warm, and their hands linked together as they jump into the water as one.

At night, Tengen sneaks into their shared inn room so they can talk and play cards and stifle giggles behind hands lest the innkeeper discover a man among girls. Nothing marital takes place, though, here — not yet, anyway. They’re all too young, too silly, and too in love with the newness of their own freedom to think about that. The time for bedroom activities will come in a few years’ time, and they’ll deal with it then.

For now, this new family has nothing but time to learn each other. To love each other. And in a world that demands they give more of themselves than they have to spare, it is here, together, where they each find themselves whole again.

#op this was so good #fic recs #demon slayer

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