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deepdisireslonging · 6 days ago

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This is so cool! The world building and the slow discovery of the lore pulled me in from the beginning. The multiple layers of warning kept me on the edge of my seat, and I have so many questions about who her aunt left with and potentially who her grandmother couldn't leave behind.

Another amazing fic, love!

Neiras

THIS WORK IS ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR COPY MY STORIES. 18+ CONTENT AHEAD.

Summary: Returning to your grandmother's house on the coast brings forth a flood of memories and secrets... where will they lead you?

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Merman!Dean x fem!reader x Merman!Sam

Word Count: 6664

Warnings: alternate universe, depression, loss of family, grief, angst, merfolk, smut (monster fucking, anatomically impossible smut, sorta anatomically correct sea mammal dicks, sex in the ocean, polyamory, weird science, implied wombfucking, breeding, belly bulging), made up language, fluff (somehow, I don’t know it happened)

Canon Bay, Oregon, 2003

The sun was beginning to set, illuminating the horizon with different colors as it descended. You heard your grandmother calling, and sprinted up the beach, giggling as you crashed into the little site you’d claimed for your own earlier in the day. Now, the picnic was gone, and the air was starting to cool, making way for the evening. Under instruction to help pack up, you shook the sand out of your shoes and slipped them on, casting your attention back to the waves.

There was soft music playing from somewhere, not unusual in a busy coastal town, but it didn’t sound like an ice cream truck or one of the small rides on the pier. You listened, and your distraction from your task caught your grandmother’s attention. She called your name, and you turned your head to look at her.

“Don’t you hear that, Grandma?” you asked curiously.

Something twisted her features for a second, and then she clicked her fingers. “Come on, child, it’s just the music from the arcade.”

You knew she was lying, and somehow you knew she couldn’t hear the music. Still, she was a grown up, and probably the wisest person you knew, so you packed up, trying to ignore the sweet melody filling the air.

With everything back in the basket and bags, you followed your grandmother up the beach. As you reached the top of the sandy bank, you turned back to look at the water, pausing when you saw a human-like figure, silhouetted by the setting sun, half-submerged in the waves. You gasped, and the figure dived, splashing a tail against the surface before disappearing completely.

Your grandmother had told you tales when you were smaller about the mermaids that lived in the bay. You vividly remembered your Aunt Sylvia talking about them, believing firmly that they were real, but you were eight, and too old for fairy tales. Maybe you had simply seen a dolphin, or something else.

The music stopped.

A sharp bark of your name pulled you back to the present, and you scrambled up the bank, trudging behind your grandmother with only the occasional glance back at the ocean. You caught up quickly, and your young tongue wouldn’t be held back. “Grandma?” you squeaked. “Aunt Sylvia said mermaids were real.”

“Aren’t you a little old to believe in mermaids?” she scolded, though you recognized the pain on her face at the mention of your aunt. No one really talked about her anymore, and all they had told you was that she had moved away. You were certain she wouldn’t have left and not told you, but not even your mother would tell you anything. “Of course mermaids aren’t real.”

Her tone made you fall silent, and you didn’t say another word until you reached her little house, tucked away on the hill set back from the sea. You liked your summers there, or you had until Aunt Sylvia had left; since then, Grandma just seemed sad, much like your mother did.

She sent you to bed just after nine, but you couldn’t sleep. You kept listening, wondering if you would hear the music again, trying to stay perfectly still and quiet just in case you missed it. At some point, the phone rang, and you heard your grandmother answer.

She didn’t sound happy. “I think we should talk about her future visits,” she said quietly, assuming you were asleep. “I’m not sure it’s safe for her anymore.”

Her voice faded away, and you clutched your blanket to your chest. Did she not want you to visit anymore? Was it because you’d asked about the mermaids? You didn’t understand, but you couldn’t say anything - you knew you’d get in trouble for eavesdropping.

Sleep didn’t come easily that night, and when you woke the next morning, you were groggily greeted by the early arrival of your parents. Your grandmother seemed so sad when she said goodbye, and somehow, you knew that it would be the last time you saw her for a while.

Twenty years later…

You didn’t recognize the little town when you pulled off of the highway and followed the coast. Everything had changed. The small boardwalk was mostly just boarded up stores and a grim looking diner, and the pier was fenced off, missing the rides you remembered, crumbling at one end. In the twenty years since your last visit, the town had all but died, all the buildings had become dilapidated, including your grandmother’s cottage on the hill.

Guilt filled you as you parked up outside. You had never come back when she’d sent you away that summer, even when you’d insisted on coming to see her, she refused, preferring to make the trip to you instead. The last time you had seen her was six months ago, at your parents’ funeral, and she’d been stoic the whole time, more worried about leaving you alone than her own wellbeing.

You’d thought you had a decent support system, so you’d told her you couldn’t pull her away from her home. And for a month, you’d been okay, until you were made redundant when the company you worked for folded. Your search for a job had been fruitless, and apparently, your unemployment had also driven your fiance into the arms of another woman. All of your friends were getting married and having children, and you no longer felt like you fit in anywhere. By the time you made the decision to move in with your grandmother, it was too late.

She passed before you could make the move. Now you were here, a few hundred bucks to your name and all of your belongings in the back of your old Nissan. Grandma had left you everything in her will, including the house, which was worth approximately nothing because the town was dead. Still, it was a sorely needed roof over your head.

After two days of packing, driving overnight, and more caffeine drinks than was probably recommended, you crawled into your childhood single bed and passed out, leaving half of your stuff in the car. You managed a solid ten hours, waking when the sun was already half-way up its climb, but only because the seagulls were so damn loud.

Digging into your bag, you located the jar of coffee you had brought with you, lamenting the lack of milk. Still, black coffee was better than no coffee, though you had to flip the breakers to get the power back on. You had enough savings to pay the bills for a while thankfully, you just had to figure out your next steps.

Bringing everything in from the car, you started to unpack. Most of your grandmother’s stuff was where she left it, and you hoped some of it might be worth selling to prop up your savings a little longer. Sorting through it was not going to be an easy job.

By lunch, your stomach was growling for more than coffee. You slipped on a jacket, deciding to stroll down to the diner and see if they had anything good. It wasn’t a long walk, but daylight only served to show just how downhill Canon Bay had gone. There were no tourists, only a few fishermen along the beach, and when you reached the diner, it was deserted. An older woman stood at the till, filing her nails, and she looked up in surprise when she saw you.

“Good morning,” you greeted. She kept staring, obviously dumbfounded that she had a customer. You tried to appear casual, scanning the menu, deciding something simple would probably be safest. “Can I get a cup of coffee and a cheese sandwich?”

The request seemed to knock her back into reality. “Of course, hon,” she chirped sweetly, pressing a hand to her chest. “You’ll have to forgive me, we don’t get many strangers around here.” She moved to the till, tapping something in. “Cream and sugar with the coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“That’ll be three dollars ninety.” You handed over a five, and she handed back your change. “Find yourself a seat, darling, I’ll bring it out.”

You smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

With a quick grin, she moved toward the dining hatch. “Louie!” she called, putting the order slip on the wheel before crushing her hand against the bell. A male voice answered her, and she threw whoever it was a thumbs up, moving straight to the coffee machine.

You chose the table in the middle of the six, right by the window. As you waited, you stared out at the ocean, watching the waves crash against the pier. The waitress’ arrival made you jump, and you gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was in my own little world,” you laughed lightly.

“That’s alright,” she replied with a smile of her own as she poured your drink. “Are you on vacation here?”

“Actually,” you murmured, reaching for the cream as she slid the full cup of coffee towards you, “my grandmother lived here, all her life. She, uh, passed away last week. Left me the house.”

She paused, giving you a moment of scrutiny. “You’re Lenore’s granddaughter?”

“Uh-huh.”

“My word, girl, you’ve grown,” she exclaimed. “I don’t know if you would even remember - your grandma used to bring you in here for chili dogs when you were knee-high to a grasshopper!” She clutched her chest, and you noticed her name tag for the first time, faded but readable - Ginny. You had a vague recollection of the diner though any memory of her eluded you. “I was so sorry to hear about Lenore’s passing.”

“Yeah, she, uh - it was unexpected,” you sighed, smiling sadly. “I just wish I could have had a little more time with her.”

“She was always so nice,” Ginny said softly. “But sad, I guess after what happened to her daughter.”

“My mom’s death was pretty hard on her,” you agreed.

Her brow dipped into a frown. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I was, uh, I was talking about Sylvia. I didn’t realize your mom passed too, I’m so sorry, honey.”

The name sparked a memory, a woman with curly brown hair and a dazzling smile, leading you down the beach, telling you stories. Your heart started to thump wildly as you recalled things that had been buried for a long time. “Thanks,” you mumbled absently. “They, uh, they never told me much about - that. I was a kid, I guess they didn’t wanna upset me.”

“She was such a free spirit,” she said with a sad smile on her face. “I remember seeing the posters for weeks but they never found her, right?”

You had no idea, and told her as much, making her frown even more. “Maybe it was just too painful for them to talk about,” you suggested with a light shrug. “Explains a lot though.”

Ginny gave you a light, comforting touch on the shoulder. “I’ll go see about your sandwich,” she murmured, and you nodded, thankful for her polite exit. The mention of your aunt was still swirling in your mind, along with the recollection of your last visit, which if you were correct, wasn’t long after Aunt Sylvia suddenly disappeared from your life.

You stayed in the diner for a couple of hours, talking to Ginny for most of it. It was nice to talk to someone who was on the outside, who didn’t feel like they were going to judge you, and you promised to come down for breakfast the next day. The sky had clouded over when you stepped out onto the sidewalk, so you pulled the collar of your jacket up, heading back along the seafront to the road up to your grandmother’s house.

Or your house, you supposed.

The fishermen were gone, and the tide was coming in, crashing in stronger and stronger waves against the sand. You slowed as you heard something over the sound of the water, a soft music, almost otherworldly, and it drew you to a stop as you listened. It sent a calm through you, settling over your soul in a way no music had before.

“It’s about to rain, miss.”

The voice made you jump out of your skin, and you turned to face an older gentleman, dressed head to toe in a yellow raincoat and waders with a wide brimmed fisherman’s hat on his head. “Excuse me?” you stuttered, uncertain what he’d said. The music was gone, taking your trance with it.

“It’s going to rain,” the man repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re Lenore’s grandkid.”

You had no idea who he was. “Do I know you?”

He grunted. “If you’re hearing what I think you’re hearing,” he said gruffly, with little enunciation, “you should leave. Get as far away from the ocean as you can.”

The instruction was cryptic, and bewildering; you straightened, backing up a step or two. Droplets of rain started to fall, splashing onto the sidewalk around you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you rushed out.

“Stay away from the water,” the old man warned, lifting a finger in your direction.

You turned, taking off as the rain grew heavier and heavier, resisting the urge to glance back at the old weirdo. When you reached the cottage, you shut the door and locked it securely, grabbing a towel from a pile in your room. Outside, the rain turned to a storm, and you winced when the thunder felt like it was the sky falling in on the roof. You distracted yourself with some music, trying to remove the earwig of a melody you’d heard earlier as you sorted through your grandmother’s abundant books and papers.

It didn’t take long to find the first newspaper clippings and the police reports about your aunt. You had been right about the timing between your last visit and her disappearance from your life - that summer had been three months after she was gone. The police had declared her lost at sea, and a funeral was held, but as you made your way through the letters your grandmother had written, it didn’t seem like she’d ever given her youngest daughter up for dead.

The mystery deepened when you found both her journals, and Sylvia’s, the latter of which were neatly boxed and sitting on a shelf in the living room. Your curiosity drew you to your aunt’s first, and you skimmed over her teenage entries, reading through her later ones, when she was an adult, when you vaguely recalled she’d left her husband to come and live with your grandmother.

Your heart ached for the pain in her words as she described leaving her violent marriage, how free she felt when she came to live in Canon Bay. As you scanned the passages describing her move, your blood ran cold; she had heard the music too.

Dear Diary,

I don’t know how to describe what happened today. Mom thinks I’m crazy, but I swear, I could hear the sweetest music coming from the sea. I know it’s not the first time I’ve heard it either, except she denies me ever mentioning it. Tomorrow I’m going to go to the library and try to find those old legends Dad told me about when I was a kid. I’m sure he said something about music and mermaids.

Or maybe I am crazy. I’m never sure of anything these days, not since he fucked with my head so much. Mom says she knows a therapist in town with good rates.

You had never met your grandfather. He had left your grandmother when your mom and her sister were little, taking them with him when he moved to the next state over to give them a better education. Your grandmother hadn’t wanted to leave, and the relationship had never recovered; he died before you were born.

Reading further on, your aunt’s words began to prod at your own curiosity. She spoke of the music often, and the urge to follow it, an urge she seemed to resist at first. But as the entries got closer to the date she had disappeared, she wrote with less determination to resist it. Her final entry was short, and it chilled you to the bone.

I can’t resist it any more. I saw him today. He’s calling me home. Mom’s gonna be so mad but I have to go to him.

Who was “him”? you wondered to yourself, flipping through the rest of the blank pages. There was every chance your grandmother’s journals would reveal the answer, and you reached for them, barely noticing the time, or that the storm outside had stopped raging. It took a few minutes to find the right one that matched the date, and you flicked through, finding no mention of anything to do with music, and only brief concerns about your aunt’s behavior, at least, until you reached the entry for the day she disappeared.

They’re telling me my Sylvia is dead, that she walked into the sea. I never believed it, not even when she mentioned that forsaken song to me. The police won’t listen. Robert says that she shouldn’t have followed the music, that she’s taken by the ocean, but I can’t believe that. She wouldn’t just give up.

The pages were stained with tear drops, and you brushed your fingers over the words, looking for the next entry. They were sparse after that, up until three months later, when your last day was marked with a single paragraph.

My darling Y/N said she heard the song. She’s only a child. But Sylvia said she heard it as a child too, that it was only as an adult she felt the pull. I wish I had paid more attention to her… I can’t save her now, but I can save Y/N. Her parents are collecting her in the morning, and I’ve told her mother to never bring her back again.

You closed the journal, realizing suddenly how quiet it was. Not even the gulls made a noise, and you got up from your now-uncomfortable seated position, wandering over to the window. The sound of the waves was just catchable, so you opened the window, suddenly hearing the soft melody on the breeze again, and its effect was instantaneous. With your hands on the ledge, you leaned into the cool air, listening intently.

Sylvia was right. It did feel like a call home.

Somewhere in town, a car engine backfired, and the whooping of teenagers followed. The song evaporated, and your shoulders dropped as the spell was broken. With a sigh, you closed the window, glancing back at the piles of books and papers before deciding bed was the best place for you.

You didn’t forget your promise to Ginny, heading down to the diner bright and early with the sun shining. There was obviously fresh graffiti on a few of the boarded up stores, and when you mentioned it to the waitress, she shook her head, grumbling about shitty youth from the next town over. She confessed she knew it was only a matter of time before Canon Bay was completely abandoned, and when it happened, she would be moving to live with her cousin in Seattle. You tried not to let her downcast opinion of the future weigh too heavily on your mind, knowing that the fresh start you sought probably wasn’t going to be found in your grandmother’s aging house or the town slowly processing its death knell around it.

The pancakes were delicious at least. Belly full, and caffeine at a functioning level, you decided to walk along the beach, removing your shoes and socks to walk in the surf. There were no fishermen that day, no one at all, and you enjoyed the peace and quiet as you strolled, occasionally glancing out to sea.

You had almost made it the full length of the beach, coming close to the sheer cliffs that cut it off on one side, when you heard the music again. Slowing to a stop, ankle deep in the briny tide, you stared into the distance, squinting through the sunshine when you saw something diving below the surface. You waded a little deeper, and the bottoms of your rolled up pants started to get wet.

A head appeared above the surface, fifty meters or so ahead of you. Holding your breath, you stared, listening to the melody as it enticed you further. When it stopped abruptly, the head disappeared back below the waves, and you frowned, turning when a familiar voice yelled out at you.

“Hey!”

It was the same old fisherman from the night before. He beckoned you from the water, holding out your shoes; you hadn’t even realized you’d dropped them.

“You really shouldn’t be out there, miss,” he panted as you stepped back onto the dry sand, sparing one more glance behind you. You reached for your shoes, and he grasped your wrist, tugging you closer, and panic made you try to pull away. His face twisted with urgency, and his lips parted, revealing crooked teeth. “They’ll take you,” he hissed. “There’s no coming back.”

With one sharp pull, you freed yourself and then snatched your shoes. “You’re crazy,” you snapped, storming off up the beach. When you reached the cottage, your heart was pounding, and your head was spinning, the melody playing on repeat in your mind even though you couldn’t hear it anymore. You flopped onto the couch, staring at the mess you still had to sort through, listing the things you had to do as a distraction.

The rest of the day felt like a chore. You drifted from one task to another, getting nothing completely done. Your aunt’s diaries kept drawing you back in, trying to make sense of the things you remembered and the things she’d written down. By nightfall, you were dozing on the couch, dreaming of the ocean as you curled into the cushions.

It was the middle of the night when you jolted awake, hearing the music almost right away. For a moment, you thought you might still be dreaming, getting to your feet in a daze as you drifted towards the window and opened it. Clearly now, the melody kept playing, and what little resistance was in you faded away. You didn’t bother with shoes when you left the house, walking down the hill into the deserted, dark town, following the song until you reached the water’s edge.

A face appeared just above the water, illuminated only by the moonlight. You stepped into the slowly lapping waves, feeling the chill of it, staring at the curious eyes watching you from the surface of the calm ocean. Another set of eyes joined them, two heads now, and the melody grew stronger as your knees were submerged. You moved forward until your feet no longer reached the bottom, thrusting your arms through the water to swim forward, trying to remember lessons from so long ago. A few feet more and you were struggling, looking around for the two faces that had disappeared.

You spluttered, treading water as best you could, shivering from the cold. The current dragged you down as you floated further out, and you struck out, desperately trying to reach the surface.

Something brushed against you, making you twist in the water. Two shadows circled you, muscular bodies with long tails, vaguely human from what you could see, but you couldn’t see much. One of them came closer, pulling you up towards the moonlight, and you clutched at what you realized was a male body, or a male torso at least. He carried you higher until you breached the surface, staring into the face of your rescuer.

The song stopped. He leaned in, green eyes almost luminescent in the darkness; you could see the scales on his skin glistening with the light of the moon, his thick, short hair dripping water onto them. “You’re -” you gasped as the second being emerged from the water, another male, sporting the same scales on his pale skin.

The first one smirked, sharing a look with his counterpart. He reached up with one webbed hand, catching your jaw as he closed the distance between your bodies. You didn’t react at first when he kissed you, sliding his pointed tongue against yours. There was an odd taste to him, foreign yet not unpleasant, but before you could voice another word, your eyes rolled back and the last thing you saw was the moon above you before the ocean swallowed you.

It was daylight when you opened your eyes again, and you knew you were nowhere near when you had been. The rock you were laying on was slanted but fairly flat, and you could hear the waves gently lapping at the shore before you saw it. You lifted up onto your arms, hands planted against the smooth rock as the disorientation wore off, allowing you to take in your new situation. For one, you were nude, submerged in water up to your mid-thigh, and the sun was high enough in the sky that it warmed your skin. Raising a hand to shade your face, you gasped and froze when you realized that there were now delicate scales running the length of your arm.

A splash in the water distracted you. You weren’t alone, and you covered yourself with your hands as best you could, staring at the two males watching you with amusement. “Who - who are you?”

One of them swam a little closer, reaching out to put his webbed hands on the rock. When you flinched, he frowned, tilting his head in such a human gesture it made you pause. “We won’t hurt you,” he said softly, in perfect English.

You blinked at him. “You kidnapped me, and stole my clothes,” you pointed out. “That doesn’t exactly scream friendly.”

He smiled. “Come into the water,” he requested, “and we’ll tell you.” His companion nodded, lifting a little higher above the surface so you could see his whole face. They were both handsome, too handsome really, and their attractiveness was untainted by the scales on their skin, the slight point to their ears. “No harm will come to you, neiras,” he promised.

“Neiras?” you repeated.

No translation or explanation was offered, only his outstretched hand. You stared at it, then slowly reached out to slip your fingers into his. He smiled, helping you off of the rock and into the water, where you felt a little more comfortable with your nudity - so long as their heads stayed above water. “There,” the green eyed one murmured. “Isn’t that better?”

You weren’t sure it was better, not with how weird you were feeling. It felt like your very cells were being rearranged, and coupled with the strange scales on your arms, you were finding it hard not to panic. “What did you do to me?” you asked, looking down as you treaded water easily, feeling a greater strength in your legs than before.

“We gave you the gift,” the larger of the two males replied. “You heard our song.”

“That’s how we knew it was you,” the first continued. “You heard both of us.”

The music, you thought. Was this what had happened to your aunt? “What gift?” you whispered, shaking your head. “I don’t -”

Moving in closer, the first brushed his knuckles along your jaw. “You don’t have to be frightened,” he soothed, leaning in until you could smell the salt on his skin. “We would never hurt you. The change won’t be painful.”

Your head swam, and instinct led you to lean into his touch, seeking more, though you couldn’t make sense of it. “What change?”

The other was suddenly behind you, hands on your naked hips. “A human can’t survive where we live,” he murmured against the shell of your ear. “We had to change you, to make you more like us.” One hand slid around, cupping your lower stomach. “A human wouldn’t be able to carry our sons.”

Something clenched in your gut, and their intentions became crystal clear. “Oh,” you gasped as the first male’s lips ghosted along your jaw. “That’s -” Their hands felt like they were everywhere, and you moaned, trying to fight back the fog of arousal clouding your judgment. “I don’t - stop -”

Almost instantly they obeyed, but they didn’t move away. You panted hard, shaking your head, forcing your eyes open to look at them. “You don’t even know my name,” you stuttered out, feeling ridiculous for focusing on that above everything else. “And I’m gonna need more than…” The words felt too awkward to say. “That explanation,” you finished lamely. “I’m Y/N.”

The two creatures shared a look. “My name is Dean,” the first offered, bowing his head a little before jerking it towards his counterpart. “That’s Sam, my brother.”

“You’re, you’re brothers?” you squeaked. “And you wanna -” The phrase “carry our sons” kept swirling in your head, causing equal reactions of fear and arousal. “This is very strange,” you whispered.

“Our species are all born male,” Sam explained gently. “We have to find a mate on land, and you heard our song, which means -”

“You were meant for us,” Dean continued, catching your face in his palm again. “We called, and you followed - if it wasn’t meant to be, you would have resisted.” You pressed a hand against his chest, unsure whether you wanted him closer or whether you should push him away. “Can’t you feel it, neiras?”

If he was referring to the change in your body, then you could, and giving into it seemed so easy. Sam’s hands were on you again, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “I don’t know what that means,” you whimpered, feeling your heart pound hard in your chest.

“It means beloved,” Sam murmured, sliding his hands around to cup your breast. “Cherished. Mate.” His fingers pinched at your nipples, and you gasped, arching back into him. “You’ll swim like us, breathe the water like we do, and in time -” He hummed, and then Dean dragged your attention away with one webbed hand splayed across your stomach, smiling adoringly at you. There didn’t seem to be a need to say what they were implying; they had already told you.

Your thoughts made a fleeting return to the home you had left behind. “And I can’t… I can’t go back.”

“Is there something back there for you?” Dean asked, so close you could kiss him. “You already have a mate?”

“No,” you admitted quietly, suddenly morose with the confrontation that your life hadn’t exactly been going well lately. The only thing you could really think of that you would miss was coffee, which wasn’t really something you wanted to admit. Maybe you were crazy, but the way these beings looked at you was with more intense desire than anyone had ever looked at you. Every instinct you had was already inclining you to trust them… the call had felt like home, and you hadn’t thought twice about answering it.

“You see?” Sam purred against your ear. “You feel it; you belong with us.”

Slowly, you nodded, and Dean leaned in, finally kissing you. It was soft and needy, and his hands gripped your hips tightly, pinning you between him and his brother. When he broke away, you were breathless, and when he abruptly ducked beneath the water, it took a second for you to figure out what he was doing. His fingers pried your legs apart, and Sam held you in place with his hands on your breasts, leaving you at the other male’s mercy.

A pointed tongue ran a path over your slit. You keened quietly, head thrown back against Sam’s shoulder as Dean explored you under the surface, using his tongue to open you up. It felt different than any other time a guy had gone down on you; his tongue was rougher, stronger, definitely longer as he pushed it against your entrance, easily splitting you. You cried out this time, arching as far as Sam would let you, and with nothing to brace yourself against, your thighs settled on Dean’s shoulders. He cupped your ass, eating you out with enthusiasm, fucking his long tongue into you until you were begging for release, uncertain if he could even hear you.

All it took was his thumb pressing into your clit, brushing it a few times, before you were spiraling into a heady climax, trembling in the water between them. Sam kept toying with your breasts, and Dean released you, leaving you to literally float with ecstasy. He breached the surface with a small splash, smirking self-indulgently.

For a moment or two, they didn’t do anything, allowing you to catch your breath with your eyes closed, supported by Sam’s hold. You weren’t sure you’d ever cum so hard with another person, but your imagination was already moving onto the next part, and you suddenly had a concern about what came after. Lifting your head, you looked down at Dean’s front, spotting his belly button a few centimeters above where the thicker scales of his tail began.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with a frown, obviously catching your strange inspection.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassed you’d been caught. “I was just… well, you’re part fish, so - sex works the same way, right?”

“We’re no more fish than a dolphin,” Sam chortled, making your face even hotter with shame. “It works mostly the same way.”

You sucked in a breath as one of his hands dropped, webbed fingers stroking over your cunt. “Oh.” The logistics still created a few questions, but then Sam forced you to turn in the water, taking the opportunity to kiss you, pulling your body flush with his as his tail curled around you.

That was when you felt it. Hard and warm against your stomach, obviously his cock but nothing like a human’s. He broke the kiss, taking hold of your hand to guide it under the water, moaning when you tentatively wrapped your fingers around it. It was thick, moving more like a tentacle than a penis, but Sam seemed to enjoy what you were doing, so you kept doing it, wondering what it would feel like inside you.

Sensing your new desire, he lifted you in the water, forcing you to release him. Your legs automatically went to wrap around his waist, and the tip of his cock poked at your entrance, seeking its way in. A burst of arousal made you clench, and he dragged you down, filling you to the brim in one stroke. He was thick, thicker than you’d ever had, and the stretch of it made you cry out, clinging to his shoulders as he ground up into you, trying to get the last few inches inside.

You weren’t sure you could take anymore, babbling nonsense against his neck but wholly unresistant to his determination. Each stroke felt like it was deeper than the last, and he grunted, tightening his hold on you. “It’s too much,” you choked out, shaking your head.

“Just relax,” he urged, slowing his movements a touch, running one hand up your spine. “You can take it all.”

Another roll of hips and your body gave, accepting everything he had to offer. He groaned as he settled deep, clenching his fingers around your hips, meeting his brother’s gaze over your shoulder. Dean moved a little closer, close enough to brush his lips across the back of your neck. “Eventually, you’ll be able to take both of us, neiras,” he murmured, sliding his hands around your front to cup your breasts like Sam had done earlier. “It has to be deep, deep enough that the water can’t wash us away.”

It was hard to think straight with Sam inside you, twitching so deep. “You - you mean -”

“You feel him right?” Dean asked huskily. “Feel how deep he is?”

With one shaking hand, you reached down under the water, pressing your hand to where you could feel Sam, feel the bulge where he was buried deep in your womb. “Yes,” you gasped.

“You’re ours now,” Sam crooned, coaxing you into another soft kiss. You didn’t argue, surrendering when he began to move, drawing his thick pointed shaft nearly all the way out before sinking in again. The water splashed around you as your bodies collided, and your grip on him faltered as you started to cum, shuddering as he fucked deeper. Dean’s fingers kept teasing at your nipples, pinching and twisting until you were nearly sobbing, unable to hold out against the constant onslaught of sensation.

Sam didn’t give you any warning when he was close, but you felt it, a slow throb that made it feel like he was getting thicker inside you. You could barely keep your eyes open, rolling from one climax to the next, and when Sam started to spill deep in your body, you went slack, trembling from head to toe. After a few moments, he withdrew, but there was no reprieve - Dean was right behind you, quickly sliding into the place his brother had carved out.

Dean seemed perfectly content to hold your weight on his own, keeping one arm wrapped around your chest as the other kept a hold on your hip. His tail beat powerfully through the water, giving him the leverage to thrust up into you, making you cry out with every single ram of his hips into yours. Your fingers clung to his arm with a lack of anything else to hold on to, whimpering over and over as pleasure made you feel drunk.

With a throaty growl, he came, and you could feel your stomach bulging with the weight of what they’d left inside you. You couldn’t help the climax he triggered, and unlike Sam, he didn’t pull away when he was done, keeping you there, plugged up and full of both of them. “I knew it was you,” he murmured. “When I saw you, all those years ago.” He sighed, kissing your shoulder as you quivered in his arms.

The boy in the water, you thought absently, enjoying the sudden calm that washed through your veins.

Dean chuckled, grinding into you again, reminding you that he was still hard. “Don’t think we’re going to be done with you for a while,” he warned, lips against the shell of your ear. “You’ll be swollen with us before nightfall.”

The sun was setting on the cove by the time they had spent themselves, allowing you to rest on the shoreline in between them, still partially submerged by the water. You didn’t say anything for a long while, dozing peacefully. When night had nearly fallen, Dean roused you with a hand on your shoulder, calling your name softly.

“It’s time to go home,” he said as you sat up, blinking at him, thinking at first that he meant Canon Bay before the truth rushed you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just -” You sighed, offering him a weak smile. “For a second, I thought it was a dream.”

He smiled. “Not a dream, neiras. But it is time to leave. You have much to learn.” Pushing down into the water, he moved to a deeper depth, waiting for you to join him. You got to your feet, staring out at the sunset before looking down at your hands. There were more scales now, and you felt a new strength in your muscles, which you could only attribute to the change they had spoken of earlier.

Sam called your name. You looked at them, both bobbing in the gentle waves, waiting for you to take the final step forward into a new world. Crinkling your toes in the sand, you put one foot forward, then the other, until you were wading into the water to join them.

“Ready?” Dean asked, catching hold of your hand as you got near.

You smiled and squeezed your webbed fingers around his. “Ready.”

THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING SO OTHERS CAN ENJOY IT 😁

#gonna work my way through the other halloween fics once my little bro's wedding is complete #its been crazy around here #writers reading writers #mer!au #mer!dean winchester #mer!sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #sam winchester smut

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