With spring came breeding season and with breeding season came migration. Merfolk instinctively seek out warmer waters where they can congregate and find themselves a mate, whether that be one for life or just one for this season.

Mercer hadn’t planned on taking a mate. Not now, when he’s getting up there in years and he thinks he’s too old to be messing around with mermaids who’d likely be more interested in a virile younger merman bursting with energy and inexperience. Mercer was too old and set in his ways to do the same song and dance he’d done over half a century ago.

That is, until he spotted you. You were everything he wasn’t— Soft, shy, and wet behind the ears in a way that made it painfully obvious that this… Was your first breeding season. The scent of pre-heat had clung to you, poor you vibrating with restless energy as your body prepares itself to carry a clutch, whether that be a clutch of pups or a clutch of eggs. The poor little mermaid had been all wide-eyed when she arrived to the neutral territory with her pod.

There was a gap spanning numerous decades between him and you. One that had him keeping away from you but watching. Always watching. He told himself it was just to make sure no eager mermen would swarm the young mermaid and overwhelm you. He was just making sure that everyone was playing nice.

In reality, it was less of him “watching” you and more of him circling you like a hunting shark. Not close enough for him to be around you like an aggressive predator but farther away in a way where you would be able to feel his presence without seeing him. He’s not trying to scare you away, but he wants you to know that someone has his eyes on you.

What he didn’t expect was for his little guppy to come up and nip at his tail the one time his back was turned. Mercer hadn’t had something like that done to him in over half a century. The sheer audacity of it made him growl, whirling around to grab you by that pretty little throat of yours. “You little- the pup has fangs, doesn’t she?” The comment was a low, growly purr as he pulled you closer, his large hand squeezing. Not roughly, but firm enough to keep you from pulling away.

The poor thing’s squirming and whining, wriggling in his grasp. You weren't expecting this reaction, he can tell. How… Naive. “Too wet behind the ears to know what to do and what not to do, aren’t you?” He said, thumb brushing your pulse point. He clicked his tongue, leaning back and letting his gaze shamelessly travel up and down your body, “Too eager, too.''

Leaning in, Mercer purred into your ear, “The pup wants to play with Daddy now, hm? Let’s get one thing straight, sweetheart— I’m the one doing the biting here.” His mouth, all sharp teeth and a tongue just as rough, trailed down from your ear to your neck. He’s kissing over your skin with both tongue and teeth, biting down only to soothe it over with his tongue just to bite elsewhere. Little siren needs to be put in her place… And Mercer will be the one to do it. The one to show you how things work around here and what a good little mermaid should do.