Kinktober requested, siren!reader x fisherman!joel x fisherman!tommy
summary: on a fishing trip meant to be a bonding trip for the brothers, joel and tommy come across something far darker in the waters. || smut MDNI 18+, dubcon because power imbalances, threesome, pinv, partial spitroasting, riding, m!recieving oral, no brotherly touching or incest, use of gag and bindings, I do mention physical characteristics of game!tommy (being blonde/fairer than joel), post outbreak, omitting some tags that would contain spoilers || a/n: omg! the amount of you who wanted siren!reader! genius! amazing! this was so so fun to write and also terrifying and I ended up changing this fic entirely cause I got too nervous from my original plan. please excuse the lack of editing, I was traveling and I felt a little out of the usual writing groove when I threw this baby together. But still! Hope you enjoy! wc: 3.7k
“Old fucker,” Tommy said, voice full of a grin as he tipped his drink toward his brother. “Can’t believe you still got the knees to haul yourself out here.”
The lake in front of them caught the last of the daylight like glass, purple and blue and still as stone. A thin mist curled over the surface, broken only by the soft click of Tommy’s beer can and the creak of his folding chair. The brothers sat shoulder to shoulder on the dock, boots planted wide, fishing lines stretching lazy into the water where the light died slow. The truck had been parked up the trail a ways, hard to get through the line of trees since they’d overgrown in the years since any campers came to this lake.
Joel smirked without looking up, eyes fixed on the soft ripple of his line. “Happenin’ to you too, I see. Got a few new grays since last time, brother.”
Tommy barked a laugh and brushed a hand through his hair like that might hide it. “That right? Guess we’re both fossils now.”
“Speak for yourself.” Joel leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the can dangling loose between his fingers. Their guns were laid out a few feet away, forgotten for now, the edges of their packs slumped against the dock post. For the first time in weeks, neither of them looked like they expected trouble. Just two men, a cooler, and the sound of cicadas rising somewhere deep in the trees.
“Think we’ll find anything?” Joel asked after a while, low and thoughtful.
“Hell, she said this was the best spot,” Tommy replied, kicking at the wood beneath his boot. “Figure we’ll see what we can catch.”
The silence after stretched long as the sun sank behind the ridge, leaving the water the color of bruised glass. A faint breeze stirred, brushing against the reeds, the night feeling like it might actually be a relaxing one.
But then there was a sound.
Soft at first, almost too quiet to notice. It came from the far side of the lake, threading between the sigh of the wind and the creak of the dock. Almost like… a voice—high and aching, like something recalled from a dream. The kind of song that pressed against the back of your mind and made you ache without knowing why. Neither of them spoke as Joel’s head lifted, eyes narrowing toward the shimmer of the water, and Tommy’s hand brushed unconsciously toward the rifle at his side.
The song carried clearer now, sweet and strange, rippling through the twilight. It didn’t sound human. It didn’t sound…like anything either of the men had heard before. It was beautiful, and yet made the air feel heavy, as if it had been made for no other purpose than to lure. The melody wrapped around them like warm breath, threading through the woods around them, filling the spaces between their heartbeats until their muscles loosened and their minds drifted. Joel found himself stepping closer to the edge before realizing he had moved at all.
“...You hear that?” Tommy whispered.
Joel didn’t answer. He only stared at the dark water, the reflection of his face warping in the ripples, drawn forward as if something beneath it was calling him by name. Tommy couldn’t help himself as he did the same, his own features mirrored in the water below beside his brother’s.
Then the song stopped, and the cicadas ceased their droning beat, and the night seemed to pause.
Because a pair of eyes were staring back at Joel and Tommy from the water.
You
They were such decadent creatures, the pair of them—broad shouldered and built from sinew and sun, every inch of them gleaming with the kind of vitality that made your mouth water. Flesh and breath, muscle and pulse. You could taste the hum of their life, even from the depths where you lingered beneath the surface of water.
Who were you, born of salt and sorrow, to deny them the ache of their own desire? What cruelty it would be, to starve them of temptation when it was your very nature to provide it. Perhaps, just this once, you might sin a little.
Best not to play with your food, your motherling used to say. But tonight the moon hung low and heavy, and you were hungry for something sweeter than blood.
And so you slipped beneath the surface, scales whispering against one another, willing your form to change. Flesh where there had been silver armor, softness where there had been fin. You reshaped yourself into the image of their most secret longing, a reflection born of their own minds. When next you surfaced, the men were leaning over the edge of the dock, drawn by your song.
Their eyes found you, and they gasped—those beautiful, trembling sounds of awe that always came just before the end. They stumbled back, eyes widening as they took in your bare form.
You smiled as you climbed onto the wooden dock, the water sliding down from your hair to your neck in glittering ribbons, rivers cascading down desire spun flesh, pooling down around your palms. Your fingers were no longer webbed, your nails dull and harmless now, though the danger still thrummed beneath your skin. You were temptation, sculpted from every dream they’d dared not to speak of.
“What in Sam hell—” murmured the darker one as he sat back, the burlier of the two, voice deep and low, thick as molasses. His tongue dragged over the syllables like a hymn gone astray. You liked him best already.
“Joel— we should— we should—” stammered the fairer one, younger by the look of him, and just as lovely in his confusion.
You tilted your head, tasting the air, and let your voice spill soft as a tide, “Hello.”
It rolled through them like heat, left them trembling, sighing, undone. You watched their faces flush, the blood surging downward, watched want take root in their bodies. The hunger in you sang back.
Tonight, you thought, perhaps your mother would forgive you.
You moved toward them slowly, inching, the boards groaning under your crawling steps. The men did not move, only frozen, spellbound, watching the water drip from your hair, your mouth, the rise and fall of your supple breasts. Your skin shivered with need, pebbling everything, nipples hard under their stares.
The darker one—Joel, the younger had called him, what a lovely name, really—sat rooted to the spot, as if he’d fallen back in his stupor. His jaw flexed once, trying to form words, but all that came was breath. You smiled, soft and patient, and placed a hand against his chest when you finally climbed on top of him. His heart thudded beneath your palm, wild and human and alive.
“Do not be afraid,” you whispered, though you wanted him to be. Fear tasted like salt and copper, so very close to love.
He didn’t resist when you seated yourself atop him, his hands hovering over your sides. The wood was cold and wet beneath him where it dripped off of you, his clothes clinging to his skin where your lap and his connected. You straddled him easily, knees pressing to his hips, your already slick skin sliding against his denim.
His eyes were every color of the woods around you: muddied brown, the gold of autumn, the blue of the water in which you came. He was so pretty. Your hands—gentle, remember to be gentle—came up to trace where hair sprouted around his jaw, over his lips. It tickled, and you let your instincts rule you, dipping your head to press your lips to the wiry hair there.
The choice had you suddenly awoken by a molten need, your mouth soon finding his, connecting, melding, and he groaned, oh, oh, what a beautiful sound. The meeting of mouths was clumsy at first, his firm and dry against yours, but you softened him quickly, coaxed him open with your tongue. And his taste. Gods above, he was the most divine thing you’d ever tasted. Something bitter and aged, a hint of almost an oakiness you’d never felt on your tongue before. His hands came up without thought, gripping at your thighs, your waist, anchoring himself in the illusion of you.
You felt the hunger rise sharp and sudden between the two of you: an ache in your teeth, in your belly, in the place between your legs where your body thrummed with need. His was the same, though thick and pulsing beneath you, his throat vibrating with the prettiest sounds you wanted more of. And you realized then, you wanted to feed, yes, to drag him beneath and taste the life that burned inside him, but something else clawed higher. A deeper craving, an almost human hunger.
You broke the kiss only to breathe him in. His scent filled you, all earth, sweat, the faint tang of some thick drink on his lips. Your hips rolled forward on instinct again, and his breath hitched, his head tipping against the boards as he fully laid back, succumbing to your temptation. He was so warm beneath you, the heat of him seeping through the wet fabric, the hardness of his body pressing against you where you were undulating against him. His breath came rougher with each passing moment, caught somewhere between a moan and a whimper, his hands nearly shaking where they held at your waist. You felt the pulse of him beneath you, the drum of a human heart that wanted and wanted and wanted.
You leaned forward, catching his mouth again, tasting the salt of sweat and the sweetness of desire. His lips parted under yours, pliant, hungrier now, less hesitant, his tongue meeting yours with a heat that made your skin tremble. You swallowed the sound he made, felt it vibrate through both of you like something alive.
The other one was still crouched, watching, his chest rising quick, pupils wide and dark as the deep. You unlatched from the man beneath you to turn your head just enough to see the other. His name was unknown, and yet somehow through you like a song half remembered. You reached out your hand toward him, fingers dripping with the water that still clung to you.
“Come,” you said softly.
He did.
They always did.
He knelt beside you, close enough for the heat of his body to touch your arm. His eyes moved over you in disbelief, over your cold, bare breast and sopping hair, and then his eyes changed with need, then finally, surrender. When your hand found the back of his neck and drew him closer, he didn’t resist. His lips met yours, softer than his brother’s, still tentative, tasting of breath and rain. You kissed him until he forgot what he feared, until he sighed against you like a man sinking into a dream.
Joel’s hands were on you, on your chest made of softness against his thick calloused hands. So human in their make, as if he’d worked with them often. They cupped you, kneaded your skin until you were arching into them as your mouth opened fully for the other.
“Tommy, stop hoggin’ ‘er,” Joel said beneath you. Tommy, yes, Tommy. His tongue was too deep in your mouth to answer, and only released you when Joel pinched your nipples just hard enough to make you moan, saliva still stringing between your lips as you gasped for air.
“Holy shit,” Tommy moaned, his hand cupping the back of your head as you arched into the older one’s hands, a spark of heat zipping to your belly and into the core of your desire, “That feel good, don’t it, darlin’? Like the way my brother is touchin’ yer perky little tits, huh?”
What a nasty mouth on this one.
“Oh, she loves it,” Joel groaned, and when you turned to him, the hunger in your gaze startled him—too much, too much like your true form. He froze for a heartbeat before you smiled, catching his hands and bringing them back to your chest. You rolled your hips, grinding until he held on tighter, twisting and pulling at your breasts as you whimpered.
You reached for his belt, cursing the layers he wore—such ridiculous human contraptions, hiding the very thing you wanted most. Joel laughed under his breath and helped, unfastening the leather as his brother stripped beside you.
Tommy was standing now and halfway bare, his cock thick and glistening, a bead of pleasure pearled at the head. Your mouth watered. You leaned forward without thinking, lips parting around him.
His groan tore through the air as your tongue slid along him, the heat of his skin searing your mouth. The sound of it, wet and dirty, only stirred something deeper in you. You could have taken him whole, could have finished what instinct demanded of you—but not yet. You wanted to draw it out, to savor the taste, the power, the sheer animal delight of it all.
Because you were enjoying yourself.
Joel’s hands didn’t stay idle long. They wandered from your chest down your ribs, tracing the curve of your waist, thumbs digging into the soft flesh of your hips as if trying to anchor you. His breath was heavy, hot and heavy, the sound of it trembling between want and restraint.
“Jesus,” he muttered, voice rough as gravel, “look at you.”
You hummed around Tommy’s length, the vibration pulling a shudder from his throat. He was gripping your hair now, guiding your rhythm, not too rough but enough to remind you that he wanted—no, needed, that was need—you to keep going. Joel’s touch slid lower, fingers grazing the wet heat between your legs, and you gasped around his brother, your moan sending a pulse through both of them.
Tommy’s hand flexed in your hair. “Bet she’s fuckin’ wet already,” he rasped, looking down at you with something between awe and greed. “She drippin’ all over your hand, brother?”
Joel only grunted in reply, eyes dark, lips parted. His fingers teased, spreading your lower lips, testing how ready you were. And as you looked down out of the corner of your eye, watching as his hand buried between your thighs, his brother’s cock buried in your mouth, it was almost holy in its depravity. You felt their eyes on you, one above and one below, their shared breath thick with heat and want.
When Joel finally pushed a thick, calloused finger inside, you arched, pulling off Tommy with a gasp. Your lips were swollen, chin wet with spit, the mess trailing down your chest in sticky streaks. Tommy groaned at the loss, his hand still tangled in your hair.
“Goddamn,” Joel grunted, “Fuck. Yeah, yeah she’s ready, Jesus.” he was using his other hand to notch his cock against your entrance, the slick gushing around his finger and into his palm wetting the head of him as he pulled his finger away.
You whined at the loss, and he only chuckled, “I know, I know. S’comin, baby, look at this, here you go—oh fuck—” he choked as his hand fell away and his cock caught around the ring of your velvet keep, and your eyes rolled back, mouth gaping open at the stretch of him.
Obscene, heavy like the rest of him, and bigger than his brother beside you, he was nearly splitting you in half as you straddled over his lap.
“Ohhh, ain’t that so good, sugar?” Joel groaned, eyes glued to where he was disappearing inside you, his mouth open, panting.
You were mewling and moaning, nearly sobbing as you landed full seated around his cock, your walls clenching and pulsing at the intrusion.
Tommy’s hand in your hair tightened, turning your face to him, your mouth perfectly open for him to resume his assault of your wet, awaiting mouth.
“Make her choke, Tommy. Gotta feel it. Wanna feel her clamp down,” Joel ground out through his teeth.
Tommy moved harder now, using your mouth without shame. His fingers dug into your scalp as he fucked your throat, cock dragging over your tongue and down deep, tightening skin of his balls slapping your chin over and over. Joel's hips rolled beneath you, meeting your bounce with steady thrusts, his pace relentless and rising.
There was no space or emptiness, one of them always inside you, filling your throat or your cunt, both thick and perfect, working in rhythm until you were nothing but sound and sensation.
The need in you was clawing, feral, gnashing its teeth against your ribs. You were caught between two hungers now—one human, one not—both desperate to consume, to be fed. The molten fire in your belly, the one of the human maybe you once were, back before you were cursed to be this thing, this river dweller, was rapidly glowing and churning. Your hips felt as if they were tightening, your throat filled so hard you were gagging, spit drooling from your mouth without thought.
And the sounds. The sounds were the most depraved, the thing that made you cry out and gag and gasp around Tommy’s cock the most. Wet and slick and slapping, the men’s groans and grunts had your orgasm sending bursts of flames and starlight through your body, eyes burning with white light as your back bowed and you gripped his thighs. He felt your throat constrict as waves crashed through you, his cock tightening and pulsing in your throat until he was moaning like nothing you’d heard before, feeding you, filling your throat with his spend.
You fell then, boneless, once Tommy released you. Joel was still moving beneath you, fucking up into your spent body like he couldn’t stop himself. His thick arms wrapped around you, banded with muscle, slick with sweat, and held you close. You gasped against his neck, lungs stuttering, spit and come sticking to your lips as you coughed through the mess. His coarse chest hair scraped your breasts, every breath from him pushing heat into your skin as he kept rutting, fast and deep.
But as your thoughts came back to you, as the human need and hunger abated, you could smell it now. Nearly tasted it. Salt and copper, warm and close as you leaned into his neck. Your mouth watered before you even moved. You imagined the flesh giving way—soft, tender, wet and divine. You knew it would be sweet. You knew. And still, he whispered into your ear, gentle and filthy, calling you a dirty little thing, saying this was what you were made for. That no good girl takes two men at once, lets them use her like this. But you were his now. His to split open. His to fill.
He buried himself to the hilt one last time, your mouth opened, tongue peeking out to taste that beautiful, thick artery at the column of his neck, and he spilled into you, marking you from the inside.
But it was all fuzzy, all static in your ears, because that hunger in you, the creature that needed to consume, was licking at the sweat dripping down his throat, mixing with the river water, shining like a trail meant for your mouth to follow. And suddenly your jaw was tightening, the muscles in your face pulling as something sharp and old pressed against the inside of your mouth. Sharp teeth sprouted from your flat human-honed incisors, nails growing as the instinct flared to a bright impending doom.
You wanted to bite.
Needed to.
How delicious his flesh would taste—
“Oh, no you don’t—” Tommy’s voice came from behind you, fast and close.
Your mouth was opening wide, teeth gleaming wet in the dark, no longer human, so so close to that divine flesh. And then you were being pulled off of Joel, warmth gone completely as something jammed between your jaws. Metal and leather and cold, it forced your mouth wide and locked it there. The noise that tore out of you was guttural, a half snarl, half scream, echoing off the water and sending ripples through the black surface.
You thrashed, hands flying to the straps, but Tommy was strong behind you, holding tight, forcing the buckle into place. Joel moved with a quick determination, reaching across the dock for the pack beside him. From it he pulled a length of rope, thick and coarse, and in a few swift motions he had it wound around you, binding your arms to your sides and your legs together as you were laid out on the dock, until you could do little more than writhe. The effort left him breathing hard, the sound of it rough in the night air.
“Got her,” he said, his voice low and strained.
You were breathing hard, fury sharpening your eyes to cold shards of glass as you watched them. They stayed like that for a long moment—both of them still bare skinned and spent from the struggle, their chests rising and falling in the damp air—too drained to move, too cautious to release their holds.
“Thought you could trick us that easy, huh?” Tommy muttered, his laugh short and disbelieving as he looked down at you from above.
Joel let out a sound that might’ve been a laugh too, something more breath than voice. He was kneeling now, catching his breath, rubbing the sweat from his brow. “Dumb little thing thought she had us.” He clicked his tongue, then glanced over at his brother. “How ’bout we get her to the truck, see what her blood can do. Think that witch had been talkin’—says it burns out the sickness, turns the rot clean.”
Tommy huffed, tightening the binding around your head. “If that don’t do it, not sure what will. Could always sell her, though. Heard the Fireflies pay high for things like this. Hell, anyone with half a lab left would.”
You jerked at the way they spoke of you, the sound muffled behind the gag, but Joel only smirked.
“Say though…” he grunted, shifting beside you. You felt the movement, the betrayal of your own body, answering the feeling of this thick hand on you as he cupped your skin at your ribs—still trembling, still slick with the remnants of what they’d drawn out of you. “She sure was a hell of a ride, huh?”
Tommy barked a laugh, petting your wet hair, fingers dragging along your lip before pushing into your mouth. The open gag made it easy, his fingertips pressing down on your tongue like he was testing your reflex again, “Perks of the job, if you think about it.”
Joel stood, zipping his jeans, his eyes already on the treeline where the truck was parked.
“And listen,” he said, voice flat, “if it don’t go like we hope, we’ll just bring her back and throw her back in the lake.”
Tommy gave a dry snort as he kept inspecting your mouth. “Oh yeah. That’ll go real well.”
Joel paused. He looked down at you for a beat, unreadable.
“Or,” he said, tone easy, “we keep her.”
Tommy didn’t even hesitate.
“Yeah,” he said, patting your cheek. “I like that idea better.”














