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taixju · 2 years

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SUMMER LOVIN’

CONTENT WARNINGS: eren x fem!reader x jean, threesome, infidelity, scumbag!eren, cuckhold!jean, cunnilingus, oral (m + f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, dirty talk, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, rough sex, breeding kink, humiliation, dubcon, degradation, overstimulation, manipulation, daddy kink, dacryphilia, eavesdropping, piss kink (if you squint), porn with little plot (dark)

SYNOPSIS: When Eren offers you a summer job, he didn’t think his invitation was extended to your boyfriend. He had hoped to have you all to himself this summer...but Jean doesn’t mind sharing, right?

WORD COUNT: 7.2K

11:37 AM - The Lake

It was an unusually hot day. Muggy; the air was heavy and everything felt sticky. You sigh, fanning yourself only to be disappointed by the hot air. Your shirt was damp with sweat and clinging to your figure. Pulling your shirt over your head, you fling it to the back of the chair, totally unaware of the man watching you strip from across the lake. Reaching behind, you shyly hook a finger into your red bikini bottoms, tugging it free so that it was no longer digging into your ass. You were miserable, to say the least; contemplating ever coming to this shitty summer camp.

It all started when your mom phoned you a week before school got out. She was so excited to tell you about the great opportunity she had lined up for you this summer. And the best part?

Remember that boy, Eren, she gushed, Such a sweetheart – I told him that you would be home this summer and he was kind enough to extend a summer job position to you! Isn’t that great, honey?

Fucking fantastic.

Eren Yeager. Who didn’t know him? He was the neighborhood’s notorious fuck boy. Most guys wanted to be him; silently applauding him for being such “a goddamn pussy magnet.” And the men were not liars – to most women, this reputation preceded him; claiming him to be “a good fuck with a huuuge cock.”

And while you’d hate to admit it, your interest was piqued but your boyfriend was no idiot. Although Jean's colorful vocabulary described him as “a first class asshole”, he pretended that he didn’t know that you secretly wanted to know if the rumors were true. It didn’t matter, he reassured himself, 'cause you were his girl. Not Eren’s.

But what he didn’t know was that for the last few weeks you were here at Red Ridge Summer Camp, Eren Yeager was the last man you thought about as Jean fucked you, secretly imagining it was actually Eren’s “huuuge cock” drilling into your cunt.

So here you were. Stuck spending whatever remained of your summer break at Red Ridge Campgrounds. It wouldn’t be all that bad, you do your best to convince yourself. At the very least you weren’t alone – Jean being the stereotypical, adoring boyfriend, eagerly followed you, wagging tail and all, to the same summer job. But to say you were distracted by a certain someone, was a goddamn understatement.

You sit at the very top of the tower, scanning the sparkling lake over your tinted Ray Bans. Campers staying in the shallow? Check. Sasha supervising the deck? Check. Eren smoking a fat blunt? Fuck.

You hop out of your chair and climb down, making your way over to the man of the hour. He sees you coming but doesn’t make any attempt to hide the prohibited item.

“Come on, Eren,” you cross your arms, emphasizing your disapproval as you approach him.

Initially he doesn’t respond right away. Soaking up your appearance with his emerald eyes, he looks down at your chest unabashedly and as almost to test what little patience you had left, he blows the remnants of his last hit in your face.

“That’s my name,” He smirks—finally speaking before bringing the shrinking bud to his lips once again, “Love it when you say my name..”

His legs are spread wide open — his posture completely relaxed, all while exuding silent confidence. He’s shirtless; wearing nothing but swim shorts and a black SnapBack. You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling parched. And as if he knew you were staring, he grins, lifting his cap to run a hand through his messy hair which gives you the perfect view of the muscles flexing through his chest. He was fucking gorgeous and it wasn’t easy to ignore the fact that he was sweaty, making it even more difficult to remember the reason why you even walked over to him in the first place. His tongue teasingly darts out, swiping along his upper lip, licking up beads of perspiration before taking another long drag.

Jean was great. But again, that didn’t mean you were immune.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” His grin, teasing. You blush, quickly clearing your throat before looking away.

“There’s children here, Eren,” you turn to him. He looks good. And it’s a challenge to not gawk. But weren’t about to boost his ego. He had enough of that and it takes everything within you to look straight and ignore his comment. “You’re setting a horrible example.”

“They don’t give a fuck what I’m doing,” he says nonchalantly but much to your relief, he snags the end of his blunt on the wooden table, putting it out.

“You’re a Camp Counselor. You’re supposed to be teaching them-..”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, cutting you off, “By the time, these little fucking terrors reach high school, more than half of them will be smoking grass out of their ass. Besides–”

He distracts you, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple – the corded muscles in his bicep flexing deliciously.

“–They can’t even see me from here.” His apathetic reply, makes you roll your eyes. He was older and the one who invited you here and yet, why were you clearly being the more responsible adult here?

“God. Why are you such an asshole?”

Your apparent anger seems to amuse him even more.

“Hey now. Let’s not use the Lord’s name in vain,” he jumps from the table, getting right up in your personal space. It startles you and you can’t help but shy back. As nervous as you were, you somehow managed to frown up at him, not wanting to appear scared, “I-It’s not as if you’re the most religious man, Eren.”

He stands tall, towering over you, and it was intimidating. You were in no way considered to be short but Eren was just that big. He takes a step forward and is suddenly close enough that his sweaty musk invades your nose. Your filthy mind can’t help but wander and wonder whether or not his dick was just as big, as you've heard. Given his size, you wouldn’t be surprised. He gives you a sadistic smile, as if to say he knew exactly what you were thinking.

If only you knew what kinds of fucked up thoughts he was thinking. The things he wanted to do to that dirty little mouth of yours. And if God himself had heard his prayers, your mouth parts slightly, your pink tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip. Waiting. Waiting to see if either one of you would dare to go pass the forbidden threshold.

But that wasn’t today; He was testing you and you weren’t ready.

Eren grins.

“You just need to learn to lighten up, Princess.” He pats your cheek, patronizingly, breaking whatever trance he had over you, before walking away. You release a shaky breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

If there was one thing that could absolutely ruin your summer, it would be Eren Yeager.

1:59 PM

Eren is fucking miserable. He didn’t think his summer job invitation was extended to your boyfriend. What a great opportunity, he thought, to have you all to himself.

The reason behind his bad mood was the man across the room. Of all the people to be partnered up with for the rest of the summer, it had to be Kirstein. But the one thing that really irritated Eren? He was fucking jealous. Jean had the one thing that he couldn’t have and that was you.

He grunts, finishing his third set, placing the bar into their slots before sitting up and wiping sweat with the collar of his t-shirt. You’ve been on his mind all day and it frustrates him how…distracting you’ve been. There’s no way you didn’t know; how much he wanted you. Craved you. It was fucking insufferable. The way fanned yourself, as if you were oblivious to the fact that everyone could see your pretty tits right through that poor excuse of a shirt – wearing it as though you thought it actually covered anything. No matter how many times he jerked off; no matter how much pussy he emptied his load into – it didn’t fucking matter because every goddamn time made him realize he’s never going to truly be satisfied unless it was you.

His dick gets hard as he remembers you from this afternoon, scolding and reprimanding him for being such a naughty boy. It excites him; picturing the way your nose scrunches up every time he says anything mildly distasteful, how your eyes widened like a deer in the headlights when he came close; close enough to take notice of the way your nipples hardened and peaked through your thin t-shirt. It took everything within him not to take you right then and there.

But best believe he rubbed one off in the porta potty; after locking the door and wasting no time, he was quick to whip his cock out. It was fucking filthy – the way he had this routine down to a T; spitting a fat glob of saliva into his palm before vigorously fucking his fist, imagining it was actually your pretty pussy he was pummeling into. He doesn’t last long; sighing as he cums with a shudder, dirtying the toilet with his fat load.

That’s when Eren decided. Fuck Kirstein. One way or another, he was gonna fuck you by the end of this summer.

That night, you’re the last to go to bed. You’re alone in your tent but are fucking miserable. Of all the other tents in the camp, why did yours have to be right next door to Eren’s. You bury your head under the sleeping bag covers, unsuccessfully drowning out the screams from next door.

Fuck you’re so big!

Fuck me harder, ‘Ren!

Listening to the shrill screeches for the past 10 minutes left you in a pissy, but notably sexually frustrated, mood; silently wishing it was you who was evidently getting their brains fucked out.

“Jesus,” the sound of your boyfriend's voice startles you, he holds open the flap as he makes his way into your tent, “Sounds like someone’s being murdered.”

You open your arms wide, waiting for him to crawl into your embrace, “Here to keep me company?”

He kneels down, scooping you up and cuddling you close in his lap. He was just as big as Eren. Maybe even bigger. But it was different. Warm. Safe. Familiar.

“Go to sleep, love,” he presses a soft kiss to your temple, tucking you into your sleeping bag.

“Not sleepy,” you smile playfully, as you wrap your arms around his neck, straddling his lap as you grind against his now hardening cock.

“Here?” he groans, digging his fingers into your ass, “Fuck – baby, I-I don’t know about this.”

“Promise I’ll be quiet, daddy” you drawl, pressing your lips to his, and drowning out the moans that he swallows. The both of you know that, that’s a fucking lie to which he grins, allowing you to erotically explore his mouth but the sound of the dirty sex next door is distracting.

You can almost picture it in your head; heavy balls slapping against the lucky girls’ ass as Eren’s thick cock plunges into her needy cunt. It’s as though he wanted you to hear. Wanted to make you jealous. And it almost works. But Jean, noticing your lack of concentration, pinches your chin, forcibly opens your mouth, before unshakably commanding, “Stick your tongue out. That’s it...That’s my good girl.”

His praises make you wet; And you can’t help but moan as he wraps his lips around the tip of your tongue, nursing it as he would your tit, while his hands quickly make their way into the front of your panties. He pulls away to get a better look as he runs circles around your slickened clit.

“Fuck,” he curses, “Come here.”

He wraps his arms around your tummy, instructing you to turn around, and hums in approval when you finally settle your both knees along the sides of his head. He grunts when the bulge in his briefs nudges your chin and that alone is difficult for you to ignore.

“Wanna eat you out, baby,” he presses light kisses to the outside of your pussy, making you whimper, “Like the sound of that?...Yeah? My good girl wanna ride my tongue?”

You don’t reply, allowing your actions to speak for yourself, pulling his cock free before swallowing his length whole, and it’s not long before his swollen tip hits the back of your throat. Inhale through the nose, you remind yourself as you pull back up, trailing your flat tongue along the veiny backside of his dick, salty precum leaving a slick trail to your pouty lips.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Jean mumbles into your puffy lips. His fat tongue invading your entrance, fucking you fast and curling upward every time it’s inside of you. Your cunt is gushing with your own slick and his warm spit; the lude wet sounds filling up your tent as you take his cock into your mouth once again.

And as almost on cue, you hear Eren’s faint grunts and groans not too far away.

That’s it. Fuck-..!

You picture Eren ramming the lucky girl from behind, his fingers digging into her hips as he drills his fat cock into her loose cunt.

My cock that good, baby? Huh?

“So good,” you unintentionally answer, whining loud enough for Eren to hear. You hump Jean’s face, digging your hands into his thighs as he pushes a second finger into you, all while his thumb and tongue take turns flicking your clit.

What was that? Can’t hear you. You hear Eren breathily chuckle.

So fucking good ‘Ren! You’re cock’s fucking good! The woman in his tent shrieks. You dig your toes into the ground, mentally cursing him because you know he can hear you.

Gonna come for me? Yeah? You close? Eren grunts, with each plunge eliciting a loud slap every time his hips meet the woman’s cunt.

Suddenly, Jean flips you over, kneeling over you as he takes off his shirt, his muscles flexing as he grabs your thighs and tugs you close. Before you can complain, his fingers are quick to find their place inside of you once again. He leans down, wrapping his entire mouth around your cunt, before sucking at your clit loudly. He knew what Eren was doing but he wanted to make sure the man in the other tent knew exactly what he was missing out on; No cunt was as sweet as yours and no amount of pussy would be able to make up for his loss.

“J-Jean-..!” You squirm, gripping the thin sheets of the sleeping bag. He presses his large hand into your lower belly, holding down firmly to keep your hips from rising off the ground. You were so close.

He adds a third finger and it enters you with ease. The way your walls clench around him makes him groan, his voice vibrating along his tongue and against your clit as he continues to ravage you from the inside out. As his fingers plunge in and out, you can’t help but notice his pinky teasing the puckered hole of your ass, dipping back into your cunt every so often to lubricate its tip. The sensation alone is enough to make you shiver and the sounds of Eren’s rough fucking brings you even closer to your high.

Cum for me, that’s it. Squeeze my cock - just like that, babygirl.

Jean reaches down to squeeze his own cock, vigorously pumping up and down its slippery length, just as excited as you are by what the both of you are overhearing. You watch him through heavy eyelids, as he strokes himself to the same rhythm that he is using to fuck you with his fingers and tongue. The sight of your boyfriend getting off to Eren’s demanding commands and your own desperate mewls, makes you quiver. It was too much.

Fuck ‘Ren! The girl screams.

Clearly close to achieving his own release, Eren’s desperate chants echo through the woods, Cum, cum, cum-...!

Your body tenses up, reiterating his command, “G-Gonna cum-...!”

And all three of you meet your high. You tremble as you cum against Jean’s mouth; your cunt leaking past his lips as he does his best to lap up every last drop of your slick. As he does this, Jean sighs, shuddering as spills his seed all over the ground.

Your boyfriend is apologetic as he cleans the both of you up and does his best to get rid of his mess on the floor. You watch sleepily from the warmth of your sleeping bag as Jean, like the wonderful boyfriend he is, tidies up your messy tent before crawling behind you, spooning your back, and pulling your smaller frame to his. Your eyelids fail to keep open, as everything slowly fades out. The last thing you remember is feeling him press a gentle kiss to your temple and then everything fades to black.

When you awake, it’s still dark outside but you notice that your tent is empty. Jean must have left your tent to return to his and much to your satisfaction, you notice that it has finally gone quiet next door. You sigh, feeling the tight pressure in your bladder. Reaching into the dark, you grab your phone; it was 2:03 AM. There was no way anyone would be awake at this hour and you were too scared to walk all the way over to the bathrooms. The counselor tents were separated from the camper’s tents and knowing that you’d be quick, you weren’t too worried about being caught.

Your sleeping bag ruffles when you kick it off with your legs and crawl over to the exit. When you unzip the flaps, you brush the hair from your face as you stand to your feet and exit the tent. The wind is cold and nips at your bare skin, eliciting goosebumps to rise along your arms. You make your way over to the side of the tent but are startled when you hear the crunch of someone else’s steps behind you.

“Jean?” You quickly twirl around but are immediately taken aback when your eyes lock eyes with dark green one’s.

You stand silently; Neither one of you speaking a word, chests heaving as the heavy tension builds. Your tongue darts out, wetting your dry lips, as you unashamedly let your eyes wander – he’s shirtless, standing before you in nothing but his dark gray briefs. The sight alone is enough to make your cunt twitch, readying itself for a possible round two.

“E-Eren,” you shudder under his intense gaze, “You scared me. I–…I thought you were Jean.”

“Didn’t mean to disappoint you, sweetheart.” His eyes darken at the mention of your boyfriend but greedily drinks in your appearance, appreciating your lack of clothing.

You recall the intense fucking he gave that woman just a few hours ago. How you had secretly wished it was you beneath him all that time. You knew he was teasing you and deep down he was actually praying that you’d take the bait; Eavesdrop as he drilled into the woman, who’s name he didn’t even remember, all while fantasizing it was actually you he was drilling his cock into. You don’t know what overcomes you but without breaking eye contact with the man in front of you, you bite your lip; the last drop of hesitation leaving your body as you shudder, and bend down to slide your panties off.

“...Do you mind?” You release a shaky breath, shocked at the boldness that suddenly overcame you.

Ignoring your remark, he watches, slack mouthed as you release your bladder into the earth. Your eyes never leave his, but you can’t help but notice the large bulge growing in his dark briefs.

You’re the first to break the tension; Standing up, you pull your panties up with you, before turning to walk away.

“Pervert,” you mutter, feeling triumphant as you turn to hide your nipples that seemed to harden under his gaze.

“Fuck.” He curses.

And before you know it, Eren has your wrist in his strong grasp, turning you back to face him, quickly wrapping an arm around your middle and lifting you up onto his shoulder with ease. The adrenaline coursing through your body makes it difficult to breathe but you are surprised by your choice to not to fight back. He steps back into his tent, not even bothering to zip the flap closed, putting both of you in danger of possibly being seen.

The uncertainty makes you shiver and you release a heavy breath as your back hits the puffy sleeping bag that smells deeply of him. He groans seeing that your legs immediately part, giving him the perfect view of your clothed cunt, ready for his taking: a gorgeous welcome just for him. Thick fingers delicately glide up the sides of your thighs, tickling your skin in its wake; before settling in the leg holes of your panties. He tugs them down hard, making your ass slide against the ground as your body is pulled closer to him.

“Not too rough–” you prop yourself up on elbows, beginning to protest but are cut off by a heavy breath leaving your lungs as his hand wraps around your breast, squeezing tightly before shoving you back down. You watch through teary eyes as he scoots back, wrapping muscled arms around your thighs, hoisting your lower body up, and then finally burying his face into your awaiting cunt.

Oh god, ‘Ren, the shrill words unintentionally spill from your mouth followed by a trembling wail.

The taste of you on his tongue is divine; and Eren, who’s been dreaming of this for months, who wastes no time, attacking your clit in quick circles before sliding down to dart quickly in and out of your entrance. He groans, lapping and sucking at your swollen bud, savoring the delicious taste of you.

“God, you taste so fucking good.”

Eren hadn’t planned on fucking you but with his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you, he already knew that he was ruined; after he was finished with you tonight, no other cunt would be good enough to satisfy him.

He watches you closely, enjoying the way you twitch every time his tongue rolls against your pulsating clit. Without warning, he pushes a finger into you, occupying his other hand, holding tightly onto your thigh so that your hips wouldn’t escape his hungry mouth. His cock is already hard for the second time that night, the tip weeping and eager to plug you up.

“God,” he moans, feeling the walls of your slick cunt constrict around his fingers, “You’re so fucking wet. That feel good, baby?”

“So good, ‘Ren,” you mewl, gripping his sheets, hating that you sounded exactly like the girls who frequented his tent this summer. But you can’t help yourself. You’ve never felt this fucking good. Jean never made you feel this good.

His hot breath fans across your clit as he devilishly watches you squirm from below. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, thumbing your clit and taking turns with his tongue.

“Say I’m better than him.” He rasps, his mouth making a mess on your pussy, “Fucking say it.”

He doesn’t have to speak his name to let you know exactly who he is referring to. You shake your head profusely and to that, he’s quick to pull his fingers out just to make his point.

“No-..!” You unintentionally whine, feeling disappointed when your pussy clenches around absolutely nothing. He smirks, teasingly blowing cool air against your entrance, his face glistening with your juices as he repeats himself, “Say it.”

You begin to cry, feeling guilty as you think of your poor boyfriend. Sleeping soundly while you’re fucking Eren Yeager behind his back. You were such a fucking whore.

“You’re better,” you sniffle, wiping tears from your puffy eyes.

“Than who?” He presses.

When you don’t reply, he shocks you, slapping your pussy hard.

“Than who?”

“J-Jean!” You yelp, crying harder than before. “Fuck you, Eren! You make me feel better than Jean!”

“Yeah, I fucking do,” he chuckles darkly between breathy pants, diving his fingers and face back into your cunt. You instantly feel full and it feels so good. Your little whines slowly begin to fade into noisy pleads,

So good ‘Ren, fuck me harder — yes, right — fucking—there—!

Eren loves the sound of your voice, especially when you’re screaming his name. You have a deeper effect on him, than he’d rather like to admit.

“Fuck, this is all your fault,” he groans, pulling away just to spit on your cunt before he’s back and burying his face even deeper. He angles his face, his nose pressing against your clit as his fat tongue stretches your desperate hole.

“Fuck,” you dig your fingers into his scalp, tugging his hair to bring him even closer, humping his face like a bitch in heat.

“Gonna cum, ‘Ren — fuck-…!” Your voice raising an octave higher.

He doesn’t let up, fucking you with his tongue and his fingers are a blur – rubbing your clit so fast, so hard —And then…you’re cumming. Your slick sprays everywhere, making a mess on his sleeping bag. He groans when he feels you clench around tongue; which only encourages him more and leaves him desperate to find out how good you’d feel around his cock. You moan out his name as your brain becomes foggy with ecstasy, your trembling thighs instinctively going to wrap around his face, bringing him close to ride out your orgasm.

“All your fucking fault,” he repeats himself, spreading your swollen lips apart, ignoring that it’s still so sensitive to the touch. Eren, wanting to savor this moment, admires the way your cunt pulsates as you’re still coming down from your high. He licks his lips like a starved man, enjoying the sight as he reaches down to push down his underwear. And then suddenly, he’s sitting up, sliding the hem of his briefs down, tucking it under his heavy balls, and giving you a better view of his cock as it springs back to hit his toned belly. The rumors are true; not only does its size surprise you but the fact it was so thick.

He was gonna fucking break you.

Eren doesn’t even give you a moment to catch your breath, thrusting his hips forward, and burying his cock in your cunt that’s still recovering from your first orgasm. He hasn’t felt this way in a while; digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs, doing his best not to cum early and empty his fat load inside of you. He grunts, struggling to hold himself together — cause every time your pussy swallows his cock whole, it makes him feel like a fucking virgin all over again.

“Fuck, Princess,” He gets on his knees, lifting your hips up, allowing him to drill his cock deeper — using your cunt as his own personal flesh light. “This pussy feels so good — best I’ve ever had.”

“Eren,” you cry, throwing your head back, feeling your stomach tighten. It was overwhelming; tears running down your cheeks because it was so fucking sensitive – his cock ramming into your cunt, stretching it and filling it up until his wet tip was kissing your cervix. “T-too much—..! Please I-I’m gonna—…!”

“You’ll take what I fucking give you,” he tugs your tank top down, revealing your bare breasts. Eren loves your tits; daydreamed about them, would’ve given anything to have a taste and here he was — had you before him ripe for the taking. He gives them a hard squeeze before leaning down and taking them into his mouth; licking, sucking, nipping — anything to make you scream his name again.

“Think your boyfriend can hear us?” He sneers up at you, reaching down to play with your overstimulated clit — he’s already decided that you were gonna give him another orgasm. “What do you think he’d say, huh? Seeing his pretty girl begging for my cock like a fucking slut.”

No.

“Why don’t I leave a little present for him, hm?” His hips are relentless and at this point your cunt has been fucked raw; feels so good that it hurts. “Fuck! Gonna cum soon, Princess—…!”

No, no, no—!

“‘Ren?” Your voice is shrill and filled with panic, immediately understanding what he means, “Y-You’re gonna pull out, right?”

Your knees are shoved up into your face as his pace becomes sloppy. Sweat drips down, making the both of you feel sticky.

“Right, ‘Ren?” You cry out, feeling so good, but you needed his confirmation.

“God—Fuck—…! I’m gonna—…!”

And then he’s cumming. Shooting his hot load into you; your pussy quivering around his cock, totally overstimulated, as he rides out his high.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Eren groans, his body slumping against yours as his hips grind against yours, making sure your womb milked him of every last drop. You do your best to catch your breath, your throat raw from all the screaming.

The night is silent; so silent that even the wind was still. You throw an arm over your face, hiding the tears that began pooling in your eyes. You’d be shocked if Jean didn’t hear you.

Little did you know, just outside of Eren’s tent, your boyfriend, in fact, did hear you. Jean shudders, biting down onto the hem of his shirt, careful not to make any noise – grasping onto the nearby tree for support as he continues to fuck his cum soaked fist, just coming down from his own high. He releases tiny gasps, abs rippling as he clenches his ass, his load dripping down and painting the dirt ground white. He heard every single fucking thing.

And the wildest thing? He fucking enjoyed it.

It’s been a day since your encounter with Eren. You’re a little afraid that he’ll tell Jean but something about your shared secret turns you on. It’s the shoulder bumps to which he claims, Sorry, my bad, was an accident – when you really know it wasn’t; Or the not so subtle longing looks he gives you as he watches you from across the cafeteria during dinner time. It’s those little moments that get your adrenaline pumping, making it harder to forget the night he dragged you to his tent.

It was night time now and all the campers had long gone to bed. Eren, Jean and you had been assigned to cafeteria duty; stuck cleaning the kitchens after dinner. But the three of you had completed the task a while ago. Instead of heading straight to be, afraid of what Eren might say to Jean, you stuck around; listening to the men exchange the ghost stories and urban legends that surrounded the camp. You originally thought it was all fun and games until Eren, thinking it would be funny to scare you -- decided to be a fucking asshole; jumping you in the walk-in cabinet as you were putting the dried dishes away. Jean, however, was not amused.

“Scared of the boogie man, Kirstein?” Eren props his dirty doc martens on the table, throwing his head back and releasing a puff of smoke into the air. “Gonna wet your pants?”

“Shut the fuck up, Yeager. Can’t you take a fucking hint and see that she’s scared?”

For once you think you see a flash of regret in Eren's eyes, but it’s quickly replaced with amusement. He doesn’t reply, continuing to smoke his bud. Inhale. Exhale.

He puts the last of his roll out on the table, it’s remnants sizzling out with a quick twist of his fingers, “Don’t be such a fucking pussy. You’re scaring her more than I am.”

“You’re such a fucking prick.” Jean stands up and is suddenly up in Eren’s face. He has the other man’s shirt bunched up in a fist, looking like he’s ready to throw the first punch.

“Ever since we got here, you’ve been getting on my fucking nerves, Yeager. Can’t seem to keep your goddamn eyes off my girl - and don’t act like you haven’t. I’ve seen you.” Jean sneers, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. He thinks you don’t hear him, but you do.

“Jean,” you say his name warily, knowing exactly what you’re walking into. You should feel guilty. But tell me why, you ask yourself, why the fuck were you turned on by their anger.

“Did you get hard after you saw her at the lake?” Jean shakes his collar roughly for good measure, “Got bricked up after seeing her pretty tits, huh?”

Eren smirks as if he knew something that Jean didn’t. And you know exactly why. He did know something that your boyfriend didn’t. Don’t tell him, you feel as though you should be telling yourself that. But a part of you wants Eren to go ahead and tattle, tell and let your boyfriend know what the two of you did.

And much to your concealed delight, Jean doesn’t stop.

“Too bad you can’t touch her, huh? Yeah, not like I fucking can. Bet you couldn’t help yourself - probably ran back to your tent like a little bitch to jack off-..!”

Eren’s knuckles smash into Jean’s face with a bone chilling crunch. He’s quick to tackle the brunette to the ground, the chair clanging to the side as he climbs atop, gaining absolute control of the situation.

“You’re right, Kiersten. I did rub one off the other day and let me tell you,” he runs his tongue along the trickle of red along Jean’s cheek, “Thinking of her made it all the more delicious.”

Eren’s fists let up, allowing Jean to turn his head to the side, spitting out blood between kissed teeth.

“You’re fucking sick, Yeager.”

This makes Eren laugh.

“You’re one to talk. Maybe…Maybe, if you fucked her right,” his voice darkens, “She wouldn’t have come begging for my cock last night.”

Eren leans down, his golden chain dancing tauntingly in front of Jean’s bloodied face. “Wanna know what we did?”

“Eren, stop.” You hiss.

He looks at you, grinning before turning back to your boyfriend. Wanna tell him or should I? — his gaze speaks for itself.

“While you were asleep, — can you guess what we did, Jeany-boy? Huh?” He digs his elbow against his chest, leans forward, and brings his voice down to a sinister whisper, “Fucked her real good – so hard, she begged for seconds.”

Jean grinds his teeth, his breath coming out in seething heaves as he tries to shove the other man off. But Eren is stronger. He keeps Jean in place without much effort.

Eren chuckles. “She let me cum in her too. Isn’t she so generous?”

Jean doesn’t answer.

“And that's just the cherry on top! Let me tell you...such a loyal girlfriend you’ve got, Kiersten. You should be proud of her — she actually thought it was you.” He sneers, almost in a jeering manner, “Imagine the surprise on her face when she turned around to see it was Eren Yaeger…but that didn’t really stop her, now did it?”

You take a few staggering steps forward. It feels like you’re having an out of body experience but it’s when Eren whips his head to look you directly in the eye. The look alone speaks for itself. Don’t fucking move.

You freeze and don’t even attempt to argue cause it was all fucking true.

“Oh,” Eren sighs before, turning his head back, giving a few condescending slaps to the side of your boyfriend's face, “And Jean…should you really be the one calling me sick? Why don’t you tell her what you did, hm?”

Jean spits a wad of blood and saliva into his face - but your boyfriend’s tormented reaction only makes Eren grin wider.

“Shall we talk about the way you purposefully let me fuck her or how you hid like a fucking pussy – not only watching us like a fucking perv but jacked off to us too. Tell me, boyfriend, who’s the fucking sicko now?”

You wait. Wait for Jean to deny but he turns away, his silence speaking louder than words.

“Should I fuck her again?” Eren taunts, reaching down to palm Jean’s dick, only to humiliate him more when he finds that he’s hard, “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you.”

You whimper, sinking down to your knees before slowly crawling over to the both of them. You should feel guilty but the change in atmosphere made you feel something completely different.

“Why don’t we ask the lady of the hour?” He pinches Jean’s face, jerking it to the side to look at you. “She look guilty to you?”

Jean whimpers. Whimpers.

“Bet she’s wet as fuck right now,” Eren snickers. And he was right. If you weren’t soaked through your panties, surely you were now.

He stands up, shoving your boyfriend to the ground as he walks over to you until his cock is at eye level. He caresses your face, tilting your head up to look at him with the tip of his finger.

“Why don’t we show him, hm?” Eren says softly, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, he makes his way around you, sliding his long legs on either side of your body, your back hitting his broad chest before pulling you completely onto his lap. You whimper, immediately feeling how hard he is. His hands instinctively find their way to your breasts, groping them until your nipples are hard enough to be poking through your shirt. Eren grabs the left side of your face, tilting it to the side allowing him access to your neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin. He smirks, feeling you shiver and chuckles when he sees your boyfriend, sit up, entranced at the sight of him having his way with you.

“Jesus fuck, you getting hard, Kirstein?” Eren chuckles, slipping a hand into your shorts, hand quickly finding your clit. “Fuck, she’s so wet – you turned on by this too, sweetheart?”

You moan, digging your heels into the ground as Eren rubs faster.

Slowly, Jean crawls over on all fours, wanting to get a better look. As he approaches, your legs immediately widen, letting your boyfriend know that he was more than welcomed to do more than watch. He hesitates before reaching for your shorts, hooking a finger in your panties as well – tugging them down, his fingers tickling your skin as he pulls the clothing off your legs.

Eren takes advantage of the moment, bringing both hands to your cunt, his muscular arms pressing against your tits, making it hard to breathe as he spreads your pussy lips wide, stretching your hole so Jean could get a good look.

And without another word, Jean leans forward, burying his face between your thighs; his tongue slipping right past Eren’s fingers and into your awaiting cunt.

Eren filled with jealousy at the sight, is impatient as fuck, not wanting to wait for his turn – shedding his pants, he shoves your face down, the back of your head hitting the ground as he crawls over you, his heavy cock slapping your cheek as he meets Jean half-way. And without any warning, he aligns the tip with your lips before pushing himself all the way inside. He’s so big that you gag, fucking your face without any mercy, and its not long before his hips find the perfect rhythm – his balls slapping against your face as his tip kisses the back of your throat, no doubt bulging in your neck after every thrust. You knew that he was big but you struggle to not to tear up every time he sheathes himself entirely within you; his massive size makes it hard to breathe. Your body spasms; the need for oxygen and the feeling of the two men eating you out, leaves you feeling delirious.

“Told you she’d fucking like it,” Eren groans, he spits on your clit before flicking it back and forth at the same pace he’s fucking your face.

Jean responds by shoving his fat tongue into your opening, purposefully making the wet muscle wide in order to split you wide open. He scoops his hands under your ass, digging them into your flesh so that he could lift you up, raising your hips to better meet him and Eren.

“She’s gonna cum,” your boyfriend moans, “I can fucking feel it – she’s clenching ‘round me so hard.”

“You gonna cum, baby?” Eren asks through breathy pants, his tongue not letting up its assault, “You’re the dirtiest of us all, aren’t you? So fucking greedy, getting off on the both of us making out with your pussy.”

“Yeah, she is,” Jean urges, his middle finger rimming your puckered ass, “Didn’t know my girlfriend was such a fucking whore.”

“Fuck, she’s so close,” Eren uses his fingers to spread your puffy lips apart, shoving his cock back down your throat, grinding down on your face before pulling back up, “Why don’t you stop being such a fucking pussy and actually fuck your girlfriend, Kirstein – like you fuckin’ mean it this time, yeah?”

Jean gets to his knees, freeing his hard cock from his pants, before sinking into you. Your slit wraps around his fat girth, sucking him in deep. Your body shakes, instantly feeling stuffed all while Eren continues to slurp at your swollen clit.

All of it is too much; Eren fucking your throat – Jean stuffing you full of cock. You were gonna lose your fucking mind.

“You gonna cum, Kirstein?” Eren taunts.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jean groans, focusing on the feeling of being swallowed up.

“You’re close aren’t you?” He angles his hips slightly, directing his teasing towards you, “Tell him how much you want it, sweetheart – how much of a fucking cumslut you are.”

“Please,” you whine, dragging scratches down Eren’s back.

“Please…what?”

You scream in frustration. How infuriating.

“Please...fuck-..! Fill me up, daddy – need it so much–...!”

Your boyfriend’s pace increases, encouraged by your desperate pleads, pumping in and out of you vigorously, his hips racking against your own sloppily as he chases his own release; 'Til he’s groaning, jutting into you at a slower pace as fulfills your request, filling you up – and Eren right in tow, white streams spurting out their slippery tips, filling both of your holes, coating your messy walls white.

And it's at that moment when he empties his load deep inside – you cum hard; squirting all over Jean’s cock, the splash back hitting Eren’s face as he continues to lap at your overstimulated clit.

“S-Stop–please, stop,” you cry, doing your best to shove both of them off, “It’ t-too much – ohmygod fuck, its too muuuuch…!”

Despite your protests, Eren smiles, pressing light kisses against your sensitive sex all while Jean lazily thumbs your ass. The two men had one thing in common and that was making a goddamn mess out of you.

Maybe…Just maybe, Jean wouldn't mind sharing you after all.

#eren yeager x reader smut #jean kirstein x reader smut #eren x reader smut #jean x reader smut #jean kirstein smut #eren yeager smut #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x reader #aot smut #aot x reader smut #eren x reader x jean #eren x reader x jean smut #eren smut #jean smut #taixju’s summer of 22’ collab

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pocketjoong · 7 months

Text

❥𓂃𓏧PRECIOUS

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS) As a nature witch, you always wanted your own familiar ever since you were a kid, however, fate seemed to have different plans for you.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) cat boy!hongjoong x fem!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) Hongjoong is a cat. mentions of food and drinking. a little bit of violence. mentions of getting injured. questionable editing. lmk if I am missing something

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 8.9k

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (NOTES) My entry for the stuck in summer collab hosted by @a1sh1teruu. This was mainly inspired by cat boy!hwa fic written by @hwaightme! I always enjoy feedback, reviews, and asks so don't hesitate to comment/send an ask!

Humming to yourself, you lock the door to your quaint little cottage nestled in the heart of the woods. Your basket, which is brimming with aromatic herbs and meticulously crafted potions, dangles from your arm as you set toward the nearby town. There’s a spring in your step that reflects the life thriving in the flora around you. As a nature witch, you prefer to live in your element; hence, your chosen abode rests at the forest’s edge, a mere mile from the bustling town you call home.

This distance necessitates a journey by foot, a mile-long expedition riddled with untamed trails and serpentine streams. The unpaved path is untouched by humanity, offering no comfort of a well-trodden road, but in its midst—intertwined with the symphony of rustling leaves, bubbling brooks, and the whispered secrets of the trees—you feel at home.

As you amble past the outskirts of the town, a voice pierces through the tranquil air of the early morning. You falter at the unexpected call of your name and gaze past a waist-high fence to witness Miyeon—the daughter of a fellow witch and cherished friend—hurrying down her front yard with a bundle of fur resting in her arms.

“Y/N! Look! I found my very own familiar,” she says, words brimming with pride and joy.

Your smile broadens as you congratulate her on her newfound magical connection. As you fuss over the young girl, your friend arrives, scolding her daughter for leaving her breakfast unfinished on the table. After exchanging cordial greetings and a gossip-laden exchange, you bid them adieu, recommencing your journey to Wooyoung’s shop.

As you leave behind the jovial mother-daughter duo, your once-beaming smile begins to wane, usurped by the pang in your chest. The yearning for a familiar casts a shadow upon your heart. Your dreams and visions of such a bond had been nurtured by tales of your parents’ harmonious connection with their own familiars and a childhood fantasy that stemmed from watching and re-watching Kiki’s Delivery Service. Usually, you can easily ward off these dark thoughts, allowing them to be no more than a passing whisper. But today, the loneliness of being a witch without a familiar resurfaces with a melancholic tenacity that defies dismissal.

“Why the long face?”

Your response to the unexpected voice is a startled screech before you realise that it’s only Wooyoung who is standing at the window of his shop. The playful curve of his lips and the fond glint in his eyes prompt you to mutter a curse under your breath—more in playful annoyance than actual resentment.

You met Jung Wooyoung right after you found yourself in Alusia when you were a bright-eyed young witch, fresh out of the academy. He owned an antique shop inherited from his grandparents and was new in the town too, having arrived only a week prior. In his willingness to find a friend, Wooyoung offered you shelter under his roof when you needed it most—a gesture that solidified the foundations of an unbreakable friendship. Soon, the two of you converted the antique shop into an apothecary—a venture carved from your joint dreams and driven by your unique talents. Wooyoung, with his inherent charm (or, as your mutual friend San teasingly referred to it as Wooyoung being a loudmouth), engaged with clients while you prepared the elixirs and potions that graced the shop’s shelves.

“You are such a menace, Woo,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully in mock exasperation as you step into the shop, extending the basket to him. He lifts the lid carefully to reveal its contents, his enthusiasm palpable as he thoroughly inspects your offerings. “You are an angel, you know that?! I was running low on most of these and—oh?” In a burst of affection, he engulfs you in an unexpected hug, “You've finished Mrs Kim's potion already? You truly are a wonder, Y/N.”

By the time you step out of the shop to return home, it’s past noon, and the sun is high in the sky, casting a glow that makes you squint against its brilliance. But you smile despite the temporary discomfort because the warmth of the summer sun serves as a reminder of your cherished garden. The thought of the flourishing herbs and thriving plants in your backyard makes you smile.

Skipping lightly across the worn, flat stones that act as a bridge over the clear stream, you revel in the prospect of returning home after an exhausting week. The last few days were a flurry of ceaseless activity—the sheer number of concoctions to prepare left you without a moment to catch your breath. So, the mere idea of spending the rest of the day simply resting without worrying about tasks and obligations sounds heavenly. With each step that leads you closer to your home, a sense of serenity unfurls within you, anticipation blossoming like the flowers that line both sides of your path.

On your way, you come across another stream, its gurgling rhythm a soothing undercurrent to your thoughts. Just as you approach it, however, a soft rustling pierces the air, causing you to halt in your tracks. Your brows furrow and your gaze sweeps the landscape for the source of the sound. Nothing seems amiss, yet the sight of a fawn preoccupied with a hidden something beneath the swaying grass causes you to move closer.

A gasp, involuntary and hushed, escapes your lips as your eyes land on a jet-black cat, its form huddled against the earth, a stark contrast against the vibrant backdrop of nature. However, it’s not the feline’s presence that startles you, but its pitiable state. Laboured breaths escape the creature, and the emerald blades beneath it are smeared in crimson blood. Without much thought, you scoop the injured feline into your arms. Careful of its wounds, you break into a brisk pace, your heart beating in tandem with your desperate urgency.

Foregoing the cottage, you bring the cat to the outhouse that doubles as your workspace. There, you tenderly set it upon a generously sized cushion at the far table. Despite the anxiety riddling your thoughts, your hands are steady as you collect the required ingredients to heal him. Gratitude unfurls within you for the foresight that ensured your own provisions remained well-stocked, even as you had taken most of the supplies to the apothecary.

Once you’re armed with everything you will need, you fuss over the wounded feline. As you carefully begin healing the cat, a whispered prayer escapes your lips—an offering of gratitude to the nature spirits that guided you to the cat for if you had been even a few minutes late, he would not have survived whatever ordeal had led to his pitiful condition. As you work, the sun dips beneath the horizon, casting hues of purple and orange in the sky. The cat’s exhausted form eventually surrenders to peaceful slumber, and though relieved, you still find yourself unable to depart for the comforts of your cottage.

Fetching the futon that you use when the making of a potion demands vigilant oversight, you nestle into its warmth. From the glass ceiling, you smile at the star-strewn sky that arches above you. Like this, under the watchful gaze of the constellations, you fall asleep, unknowing that your life is now intertwined with the cat’s own.

Your eyes flutter open to the soft morning sunlight piercing through the windows of the outhouse and your gaze shifts to the feline. You smile as you see the cat is doing better and leave the cat to its peaceful slumber to fix up a quick breakfast for yourself, only returning with a list of potions you must deliver to the shop the following week.

You put your phone onto your desk and begin your work, enveloped in a symphony of tranquil melodies that mirror the serenity of the forest that lies merely a few paces from where you stand. As you are immersed in your craft, the sun reaches its zenith, casting its warmth upon your workspace. As you work, a subtle shift draws your attention—a faint movement that you catch in the corner of your vision.

Turning to the source of movement, your eyes settle upon the cat, the creature finally stirring from its slumber. Wariness born from a shared unfamiliarity—yours with its nature, and its with yours—causes you to stay where you are. You wait with bated breath as the little guy brings his paws to his eyes to rub them, followed by a languid stretch. A yowl of discomfort leaves him, echoing through the space, and you can’t help but inhale sharply at his distress; he probably hears it because the very next moment, he’s on his paws and hissing at you.

You observe him with a mixture of understanding and patience, knowing that such a response comes from the fear and uncertainty of finding oneself in unfamiliar surroundings. You raise both your hands to show that you mean no harm.

“Hey, it's okay,” your voice flows with reassurance, carrying with it an aura of compassion that you hope the cat can sense. “You're safe here, I promise. Please, just… rest some more. Moving might cause more harm than good right now, and it took me a while to treat those wounds of yours.”

The cat’s eyes narrow in distrust as his eyes rake over your form. Eventually, however, his cautious resolve gives way, and with a subdued huff, he eases back onto the cushion. You can tell that he is still wary of your presence, so you return to your task.

Stirring the potion, you softly break the silence. “You know, you’ve been out for almost a day. I was growing rather concerned, to be honest.” The cat tilts its head subtly, almost as if he’s curious, so you continue your train of thought. “Your injuries were quite severe. It’s a relief to see you awake.”

As the hours tick by, you remain absorbed in your work. Bottles and vials are filled with elixirs and put into another basket, each labelled with care and precision. While you work, you can feel the cat’s watchful gaze upon you. Once your tasks are completed, you shift your attention to your companion, who is now fast asleep. The feline, who was so cautious of you merely hours ago, now embodies a tranquillity that makes your lips quirk up at the corners. As you tidy your workspace, your heart brims with warmth, and once done, you begin preparations for lunch in your cottage.

The golden rays of the sun filter through your kitchen windows, illuminating your countertop as you cook a simple yet hearty lunch. You walk out of the kitchen, wanting to awaken the cat to give him some food, but as you enter the living room, a curious sight awaits your gaze. The cat is seated in front of the coffee table, blinking at you lazily. At his curious behaviour, your magic reaches out gently, a fleeting touch that reveals nothing out of the ordinary, causing you to hum in confusion.

Armed with food, you step closer to your companion, emboldened by the silent affirmation that he won’t run away. “Would you mind if I turn on the TV?” Your query hangs in the air, and a melodic meow is the only answer you get before he’s diving headfirst into the meal you had prepared. Considering his response a go-ahead, you tune into Pirates of the Caribbean, the movie becoming a backdrop to your shared meal.

As the credits of the first movie start to roll, you can sense wariness in the cat’s watchful eyes, but this morning’s feral hiss has yielded to a tentative harmony. Noticing how entranced the cat is by the movie, you don’t turn it off as you clean the dishes, a gesture that you suspect he appreciates. Returning to the living room on completion of your chores, you find the once-restless creature nestled upon the sofa in cosy contentment—an image that both warms your heart and fascinates you.

You settle into the opposite end of the couch, and open your grandmother's book of remedies. The sounds from the TV fade into background noise as you read through the tome, and you can’t help but think about how oddly domestic this moment seems.

Emboldened by how relaxed your new companion looks, you decide to talk to him. “Hey, buddy, would you mind if I checked on your wound? Just to make sure it's healing the way it should?”

The feline responds with a subtle shift—a repositioning that unveils its wounded side. As you approach, your heart swells due to the delicate trust blooming between you. If you’re surprised by how quickly he is healing, you don’t let it be known. “Looks like you will be fine by the end of the week. I’d love for you to stay here with me until then, but the choice is yours.”

Your offer hangs in the air for a moment before he meows, sealing the agreement. The cat settles back into the same position in which he’d been watching the movie, so you assume that means he’s going to stay in cat-speak.

Yet, a lingering thought flits through your mind—the matter of a name. “What do we name you, though?” you ponder aloud, your voice a soft murmur. You drop random names that seem fitting for a cat. Most receive only a nonchalant disregard, save for an outright hiss at the name “minion”.

As you are at your wits’ end, an idea strikes you. “What about Captain... Jack Sparrow?” The last part is whispered, so you don’t know if he heard, but you’d shorten it to Captain anyways, so in your humble opinion, it is the perfect name.

In the wake of your suggestion, the feline’s eyes light up in affirmation, making you smile. “Okay then, Captain it is,” you declare softly, marking the beginning of a bond, one forged in the quiet moments and shared names bridging the divide between the two of you.

In a surprising twist, Captain Jack Sparrow defies your initial expectations by choosing not to leave your cottage even after his recovery. The once-wounded feline weaves his presence into the very fabric of your life in the form of a plush cat bed nestled within a spare room. Though, in hindsight, it was an unnecessary purchase as the bed remains pristine and untouched, while the cat himself stakes claim to your couches and book-laden shelves.

During the day, the uppermost shelf of your work area becomes Captain’s sanctuary, where he slumbers amidst the tomes stacked alphabetically. With time, Captain inches closer, from lower shelves to the corner of your very table—a silent testament to the trust that has bloomed between the two of you.

Then, one day, the gentle touch of a paw upon your hand breaks through your concentration. Wide-eyed, you find yourself captivated by the slumbering form of Captain. For the next hour, you don’t dare move your hand, driven by the irrational belief that any movement on your part could shatter the delicate companionship you’ve woven over months of shared moments.

The seconds stretch like an eternity, yet you remain still. When Captain awakens to find you in such a vulnerable state, his response is one that eases your fears—a gentle nudge of his nose against your hand in gratitude and acknowledgement and leaves before you can process what happened.

That night onwards, you find Captain curled up at the top of your closet during the night. The first few times, the sight of his glowing orbs startles you, but with time, you find yourself comforted by this silent guardian who watches over you as you slumber. When you tell Wooyoung about this, his response is one of gentle reassurance. “He probably watches over you to protect you as you sleep during the night.”

Speaking of Wooyoung, the first time you ask Captain to accompany the town on your visit, he seems a little sceptical. “It’s your choice, Captain. If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly alright. I just thought you would like some change of scenery,” you tell him. As you gather your belongings and secure your cottage, you expect Captain to stay back. However, as you lock the door, you find him perched upon the fence, waiting for you. And when you introduce Captain to Wooyoung, it is a new experience, to say the least. Laughter spills forth as you are unable to suppress your mirth as Captain scratches your friend’s hand in an instinctive response to Wooyoung’s attempt to lift him into his arms.

“You have adopted a devil, Y/N,” he screeches, pointing at Captain while cradling his arm protectively. Your cat, on the other hand, is sitting on his haunches while licking his paw—the picture of angelic innocence.

“Please, I would scratch you too if you tried to scare me. The only reason I don’t is because you’d whine about it for days. Captain might just be the guardian I need to keep you in check, aren’t you, bud?” The answering meow causes another round of joyous laughter to burst forth from your lips.

You’d think Captain’s initial aloofness would deter Wooyoung but, Captain's coldness only seems to fuel your friend’s determination as he tries everything he can to get Captain to like him—from treats to gentle pets to whimsical trinkets—all in an attempt to win over the feline. Yet, Captain remains steadfast, his indifference to these gestures firmly intact. And it is not as if this attitude is reserved for Wooyoung alone.

Ever since that first trip where he accompanied you, Captain follows you each time you visit Alusia. As you navigate the streets of the town, he treads his own path, a few paces away and often on higher surfaces while you go about your business. The townspeople, on learning of your feline companion, attempt to win his affection, but he doesn’t seem like people (or people touching him), so eventually, they give up trying. However, he still accepts treats from them despite you telling them not to, but the way he looks at you has you quickly going back on your words. How can you say no when he looks at you with his large eyes that seem to hold entire universes within them?

During one such trip to Alusia, a jewellery shop captures your attention for a moment, but as your mind is preoccupied with the bubbling concoction back at the outhouse, you walk past the display without lingering. In your haste, you don’t even realise that Captain has stopped in front of the big window and isn’t following you. It is only the sensation of something amiss that prompts you to retrace your steps, leading you to the forlorn figure of Captain seated before the shop—a sight that tugs at your heartstrings.

A sigh escapes your lips as you crouch beside him. “Would you like to explore what the shop has to offer?” you inquire gently, recognising the twinkle in Captain's gaze as he looks up at you.

Though your feline companion is a delight to be around, sometimes you can’t help but be sceptical of the little guy. You have often caught him reading your journals or tomes as if he understands them, prompting speculation about his understanding of human knowledge. Yet, those notions are quickly discarded when he settles onto the page with a languid yawn. “Cap’n, my books are not cushions for napping,” you always chide him in playful exasperation, only to be met with a dismissive glare and a subsequent shift into your lap. Amongst all his quirks, one stands out—his remarkable understanding of human speech. Whenever you ask him something, he answers with a meow or a hiss (it’s easy to tell which is for which), just like how he answers your question about the shop with a meow.

With a nod, you offer your arms as a welcoming perch for Captain to leap into and enter the quaint shop. The glittering array of chokers fascinates him, prompting you to lead him towards the displays. He studies each piece carefully, and at the end of this impromptu stop, Captain is adorned with a collar—which is more of a choker, really. A topaz moon and vibrant red marigold pendants grace his new accessory, shining beautifully as the sunlight hits them.

For the rest of the week, Captain's spirited headbutts and unabashed demonstrations of fondness keep you on your toes, simultaneously warming your heart and distracting you from your potion-making. His playfulness leads you to scold him gently because you are worried that he could get hurt while you work. “Cap’n, I know you love your new collar, but I need to concentrate on my work, or you could get hurt.” Despite your reprimand, his adoration remains undeterred, but he does quiet down as you work and lingers nearby, a reassuring presence amid your bustling workspace.

Weeks pass, and one night in mid-August, you are jolted from your sleep by a distressing nightmare—a rare occurrence for you as you rarely dream. Gasping for breath, your magic surges instinctively, tethering you to the calming embrace of the forest that surrounds your home.

As your panic settles and you feel calmer than before, you reach for the glass of water on your nightstand, only to be startled when a pair of glowing eyes meet your gaze from the heights of your closet. It’s a familiar sight, yet the remnants of the unsettling dream create a tremor within you.

“Captain Jack Sparrow, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” Your hand instinctively rests over your pounding heart as you chide him, the mixture of residual fear making your voice tremble.

Observing your distress, Captain gently descends from his vantage point to the expanse of your bed. A soft meow accompanies his movements, and his eyes seek yours before he nuzzles his head against your side. Sighing, you relent, succumbing to his affection. Your touch is tender and reassuring as you pet his head gently, “It’s alright, buddy. I didn't mean to scold you. I was just startled by the nightmare.”

Cocooned in the soft cotton sheets, you lay back down to go back to sleep and notice Captain curling up by your side with a gentle purr. His tail encircles your wrist in a protective gesture as if trying to ward off the shadows that threaten to disturb your sleep. From that night onwards, most nights, you awaken to find him nestled by your feet or right by your pillow—a silent guardian whose comforting aura intertwines with the magic that surrounds you.

Time passes and one season transitions into the next, and before you know it, you’ve been living with Captain Jack Sparrow for almost a year. As yet another summer rolls around, you notice his presence has brought profound happiness to your existence. While he may not be the familiar you once yearned for, he has become a source of unwavering support, and his mere presence never fails to brighten up your days.

However, there’s an unexpected shift in Captain’s behaviour one day, he seems restless, and it only intensifies during the night. Despite your attempts to understand what’s wrong, you can’t seem to figure it out, which leaves you both perturbed and anxious. As dawn breaks, you decide professional insight is necessary and bring Captain to the town’s vet, only to be told that your cat is in perfect health. Though baffled, you’re relieved to know that Captain is not in any particular danger. On your way back home, you venture into the apothecary only to be met with a frantic San and aghast Wooyoung.

“What's wrong?” You ask softly, only for Wooyoung to burst into sobs as he throws himself into your arms.

Turning your gaze to San, his weary visage reflects the toll whatever ordeal he has gone through has taken on him. His voice is a blend of exhaustion and urgency as he relays the heartbreaking news to you, “Miyeon vanished in the forest. She had been working on her first test as a witch-in-training and didn’t return.”

You know how important the test is, for it is the first step in any witch’s path towards the prestigious academy in the capital. San continues to explain that when the young girl didn’t return home, even as the stars twinkled in the rapidly darkening sky, her mother raised an alarm and the townspeople searched for her throughout the night to no avail.

“It’s as if she vanished into thin air, Y/N,” San’s voice is filled with the fatigue of fruitless searching and worry for Miyeon.

Your brows furrow, “Do you have any idea where she might have gone missing?”

San shakes his head with a sigh, “The only thing we found was her bracelet, and that was miles away from where she should’ve been—near the rocky caves close to the mountains.”

The information stirs a gasp from your lips, for the mountains lie nearly fifty miles away from Alusia’s borders. “But that's miles away. How could she have ended up there?”

Weariness is evident in every line of San’s face as he levels you with a sorrowful look, “No one knows.”

Days stretch on, heavy with a gnawing sense of uncertainty, as Miyeon’s absence continues to hang upon Alusia like a dark cloud that just won’t leave. The ominous shadows that loom over the forest deepen as more individuals vanish without a trace, their fates shrouded in a veil of mystery that defies explanation. Countless efforts have been in vain, leaving everyone in a state of collective apprehension. Venturing into the heart of the forest with San and Wooyoung, you’ve even journeyed to the rocky caves where the bracelet had been discovered. However, you find no tangible clues, and the sombre truth of your fruitless attempts sinks in.

Weirdly enough, amidst the sense of dread and uncertainty that surrounds the town and the forest, your cottage emerges as a safe haven. Whether the protective spells you’ve cast around its perimeter have deterred the sinister force or some other unknown factor is at play, whatever has been prowling in the forest doesn’t seem to approach your home. Your heart fills with relief at this, for it ensures the safety of not only yourself but also of your feline companion.

Captain has been venturing into the forest stealthily; however, you’re attuned to the subtle shifts that accompany his absence. Despite your worry, you permit him these solitary ventures as not only is your confidence in his instincts unwavering, but you also know that he wouldn’t stray too far to put himself in jeopardy. True to your belief, he returns to your side by the time you’re done with the day’s work.

However, one day when Captain doesn’t come back home by dusk, you reach out to Wooyoung, informing him that you will set out in search of your cat. Your friend’s apprehension is palpable even through the texts, and he reminds you of the prevailing danger that has claimed Miyeon and others, yet your determination overrides his caution.

Urgency propels you into the forest’s depths as the sun sets even further, washing the canopy above you in shadows that stretch like fingers reaching out to pull you into their darkness. An unsettling hush descends upon the surrounding area, a peculiar silence that leaves you both aware and wary. Your senses are on high alert as you advance deeper into the foliage and look for your cat.

As you spot a clearing in front of you that is bathed in the ethereal glow of twilight, you notice Captain Jack Sparrow in the middle, his attention fixed on an unseen presence shrouded within the trees on the other side.

“Captain?” At the sound of your voice, his head whips around, his meow fraught with urgency. As he hurries to your side, his head nudging against your leg, you recognise his plea for you to retreat.

“I’m not leaving without you,” you tell him softly but with enough conviction in your voice that elicits a resigned meow from Captain.

He positions himself in front of you, his lithe form a protective barrier between you and the hidden danger that holds his attention. The silence seems to pulse with malevolent energy, and the hairs on your arms stand on end as you brace yourself for what awaits.

And then, from the gap between the trees, steps out a figure that you have only seen within the pages of the books you’ve read—a demon. His arrival disrupts the eerie stillness, his form emanating an aura that sends a shiver coursing down your spine. Horns, reminiscent of an infernal crown, emerge from tufts of his long hair. Intricate tattoos wind their way along his arms like serpents of darkness, and wings resembling a bat's silhouette stretch ominously, casting shadows that dance in tune with the forest’s secrets. The deep crimson glow of his eyes sears a path into your very soul, leaving you trembling beneath his gaze.

Your heart beats wildly within your chest, your senses keenly aware of the danger that emanates from this being. As the realisation that you stand before a high demon dawns upon you, you cannot help but inhale sharply.

Though fear courses through your veins, your mind functions with remarkable clarity. A plan takes shape, and your instinct for self-preservation and the well-being of those you hold dear compels you to act. Fingers trembling, you manage to send a discreet message to Wooyoung and tell him to bring a priest whose knowledge and skills would be able to banish this entity back where he belongs.

Beside you, Captain Jack Sparrow emits another series of hisses, his agitation a mirror to your own. The feline’s protectiveness seems to amuse the demon, for his lips curl into a sinister grin. “You think your feline companion is any threat to me? You’re foolish to think so, little witch.”

Your heart pounds as you face the looming demon. With your makeshift weapon—a sturdy stick—grasped firmly, you weave determination and resolve into your stance. Your gaze shifts to Captain, his eyes reflecting the trust he places in you. Kneeling before him, you utter your words in a hushed tone. “Can you distract him for me?”

Captain Jack Sparrow meets your gaze with unwavering intensity, an unspoken understanding passing between you two. His nod is resolute, a testament to his loyalty and his faith in you. Without hesitation, he catapults himself toward the demon, a feline embodiment of courage and defiance.

With a sharp breath, you drag the stick into the forest floor as you etch a devil’s trap. Each stroke in the soil forms a link in a mystical chain, a barrier that could keep the demon trapped until the priest arrives with Wooyoung. The forest seems to hold its breath, the air thick with anticipation as you carve your intentions into the earth, invoking protection and safeguarding magic into each gesture.

Just as you make the last stroke on the earth, a piercing howl of agony pierces through the silence. Panic claws at your chest as you stand, your eyes locking onto Captain, who now lies amidst the underbrush. The demon’s glee is evident, a sickening grin that sparks a fire of anger within you.

Even as your heart races with a mixture of fury and desperation, his taunting words punctuate the air, “You can’t hurt me either, little witch. You’re too weak to go up against me.”

Your voice, though laced with tremors, carries a fire born of defiance. “You underestimate me, demon. My strength lies in more than just might.”

As the tension builds, you brace yourself, a fusion of anger and resolve fuelling your next steps. For some reason, a smirk dances at the edges of your lips, the action adding to the demon’s simmering fury. His snarl of irritation is a satisfying confirmation that your audacity has hit its mark, goading him into action. Without warning, he hurtles toward you with terrifying speed, and instinct kicks in, your body moving with a fluidity born of desperation as you sidestep his oncoming assault, your heart pounding with a mixture of adrenaline and a fervent prayer for Wooyoung to be quick. He’s your anchor, your beacon of hope, a lifeline that promises light at the end of the tunnel.

Your attempt to land a punch only garners a momentary victory, a fleeting contact that sends a jolt of satisfaction through your veins before the demon's ferocity reignites. Your “fight” with the demon is more of a dance between predator and prey. The demon is tireless, his attacks relentless, and your resilience the only thing keeping you from succumbing to his power.

As you’re trying to catch your breath while also simultaneously dodging the demon’s attacks, a movement in the corner of your vision catches your attention—a graceful, stealthy approach. It’s Captain Jack Sparrow, emerging from the undergrowth despite being hurt himself. You can see the fire in his own eyes as he moves closer to the two of you.

Your focus narrows as the duel intensifies. Yet, in a split second, your world tilts on its axis. The demon’s strike finally lands its mark, and an agonising pain flares in your abdomen as his blade pierces through you. Your gasp of pain mingles with the harshness of your exhale, the world momentarily spinning as you lose your grip on reality.

Amidst the searing agony, a small hope presents itself—a diversion in the form of your cat. Captain’s launch distracts the demon, his collision with the devil turning the tide of battle. A triumphant surge courses through you as the malevolent entity stumbles ensnared within the conjured lines and symbols of the devil’s trap.

Hope blossoms anew as the demon’s growls turn to roars of rage. It’s a momentous turn of events, however, the sweet taste of victory is swiftly tempered by the urgency of your injury. Blood flows from your wound, a crimson river that threatens to drown you in its tide.

But as darkness threatens to claim you, the forest is pierced by the sound of familiar voices. Wooyoung’s call is a lifeline, as he and the priest, followed by San, move toward the heart of the clearing. Their arrival sparks a surge of relief within you, the fervent prayers you’d cast finding their answer.

For your two friends, the demon, now in the custody of the priest, takes a backseat to the immediate urgency of your wound. Bloodied and battered, you succumb to the overwhelming sense of fatigue that washes over you, your vision flickering as you teeter on the precipice of consciousness. As the world blurs and wavers, you hear Captain’s mournful meows and Wooyoung’s desperate pleas as San works to stem the bleeding. Darkness envelops you, but not before you grasp the hands of those who are by your side, hoping to give them some comfort.

As you gradually resurface from the depths of the unconsciousness, you’re met with a hazy awareness of your surroundings. The soft rustle of leaves, a gentle breeze, and the warmth of the sun’s rays brush against your senses, weaving together a mosaic of sensations that bring you back to the world of the living.

As your eyelids flutter open, the world swims into focus, and you realise you’re laid down in the comfort of your bed. With careful and deliberate motions, you navigate meticulously to take note of any aches along your body. The pain is there, an ever-present reminder of the brutal encounter with the demon, but it’s not as overwhelming as you initially feared.

Summoning the strength to sit up, you’re acutely aware of the effort it takes. Your muscles protest the movement, a chorus of twinges and discomfort that underscore the extent of your injuries. You exhale a measured breath, grateful for the incremental progress that you’ve made in whatever number of days you’ve been unconscious.

You wonder if Wooyoung or San are downstairs, for you hear movement and sounds drifting through the air—evidence that you're not alone. With a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, you muster the energy to call out. “Hello?”

In response, the sounds shift—a plate clatters in the sink, and footsteps echo through the corridors as they draw nearer. You await the reply with a mixture of anticipation and unease, as the door to your room creaks open, revealing an unexpected visitor who seems as surprised to find you conscious as you are to meet him. The stranger stands framed in the doorway, his presence both enigmatic and captivating. Your gaze sweeps over him, capturing the details that distinguish him from any other human.

His silver hair shimmers like moonlight swept in an artful disarray around his face. His brown eyes are warm and expressive, and his petite nose adds a touch of whimsy to his features, a charming little thing that lends him an air of approachability.

Yet, what captivates your attention most are the silver cat ears that adorn his head. They peek from behind his tousled locks, a hint of something magical, a connection to the feline that has become such a significant part of your life. And there, nestled against his throat, rests the same choker you had bought for Captain—the final object that weaves a thread of familiarity between you and this stranger.

You blink at the unexpected revelation, your mind whirling as it tries to reconcile this silver-haired stranger with the raven-furred feline companion who had been a constant presence in your life for over a year. The pieces of the puzzle rearrange themselves in your perception, forming a new and baffling image that challenges your understanding of magic and reality.

“Please don’t tell me that you’re the cat who’s been living with me for the past year,” your incredulity and confusion are woven into the words that hang in the air between you.

He blinks back at you, the innocence in his gaze casting a surreal contrast against the situation you’ve found yourself in. “Um, okay?” His response is soft, almost timid, and a pang of empathy stirs within you.

“But, you… I didn’t sense a single ounce of magic in you,” you murmur, your words imbued with a touch of bewilderment. The dichotomy between his appearance as a cat and now as a being with apparent human attributes leaves you struggling to grasp the threads of truth.

He shifts uneasily in the doorway, his cat ears betraying his discomfort as they flatten against his hair. As your brain races to piece together the implications of his transformation, Captain—your erstwhile feline friend—interjects with a soft sigh, “That’s because our magic is way different. Nature witches can rarely sense dark magic unless it’s threatening.”

“Oh… WAIT— WHAT DO YOU MEAN DARK MAGIC?”

The elusive and sinister nature of dark magic indeed renders it undetectable to your innate senses. But to think you had been living with a creature who practised dark magic made you shudder.

“I am a mage, well—I was one until I declined a fae’s advances. They cursed me to live as a cat for the rest of my life,” he confesses, his voice carrying the weight of a burden he’s carried for far too long.

Your emotions teeter on the precipice of uncertainty. Part of you instinctively yearns to distance yourself, wary of the unpredictable nature of dark magic and its ramifications. Yet, another part—perhaps the more empathetic and compassionate side—compels you to understand.

“And how did you turn back?” you inquire gently, the words wrapped in a blanket of cautious curiosity. You observe his response closely, measuring his demeanour, and his expressions, seeking any sign of deceit or danger.

He meets your gaze squarely, his eyes carrying a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. “I called in a favour another fae owed me. They helped me out and managed to undo some of the curse… but I was to stay a cat until I felt the heartbreak of almost losing someone precious to me,” he confides, his voice trembling with an authenticity that resonates with your intuition.

“Precious?” You echo the word.

The notion seems almost surreal, a subtle revelation that has you momentarily flustered. Your heart flutters in an unfamiliar rhythm, a dance choreographed by the unexpected emotions swirling within you.

He observes your reaction, a gentle smile playing upon his lips as he regards you with tender familiarity. “You're precious to me, Y/N,” he admits, the words carrying an honesty that sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze is a caress, drawing you into the depths of his sentiment. For a heartbeat, the world narrows to just the two of you, and you find yourself holding your breath.

He probably senses the shift in your breathing and looks at you in concern, so you force yourself to inhale, coughing a bit as you choke. Once he sees you’re fine, he continues, his words laced with a trace of melancholy. “So… you almost losing your life changed me back. Not fully, though, never fully. I’ll still be able to turn back into a cat and then back into this form. That’s what I’ve been doing while Wooyoung and San come to check up on you.”

The notion of him resuming his dual existence as both a cat and this silver-haired individual evokes a sense of both wonder and sympathy. Your gaze lingers on him, searching for traces of the feline friend you’ve known for so long within the person before you.

“Oh…” The word slips from your lips, laden with a complexity of emotions that you struggle to articulate.

He shifts slightly, his demeanour carrying an air of uncertainty as he speaks. “Um… I can leave if you don’t want me around any—”

You interject, the words tumbling from your lips before he can finish his sentence, a resolute assertion that quashes any hint of rejection. “No! I just… I'll just need a while to… uh… yeah.” You gesture vaguely, the swirl of emotions within you manifesting in a flurry of gestures that you can’t seem to articulate into words. He nods at you, and the silence that falls over the room is punctuated only by the soft rustling of fabric as he shifts his weight.

“Would you like something to eat?” he offers, seeking to ground the situation in something familiar. “I'm not the best at cooking, but I make a nice porridge and considering you haven’t eaten in a couple of days, it's best if you have something light to eat.”

Your quick nod is accompanied by a brief departure and a swift return, a bowl of porridge cradled in his hands. When you notice that he’s about to leave you alone again, you can’t help but call out. “Wait.” As his steps pause in response, you invite him to stay with a gentle smile, the words unspoken but the sentiment clear.

Curiosity laces your words as you venture into uncharted territory. “So… can you still do magic?” The inquiry stems from a genuine desire to understand the extent of his transformation and the implications it holds.

He takes a seat beside your bed, his posture relaxed as he contemplates your question. “I haven't been able to use any magic since you got injured. The demon, he hurt me with the same knife he used to hurt you… and uh, I think whatever magic I have sort of reacted with yours…” His gaze finds yours from beneath the fall of his bangs, an unspoken query hidden within his eyes, “Do you feel any different?”

“I can't tell right now…” As silence settles between you, you sense the opportunity to delve further, to uncover a piece of the puzzle that he’s held close. “What's your name?” you ask, your voice soft yet insistent.

“Huh?” He seems momentarily taken aback as if the question isn’t something he expected.

“Your name,” you repeat.

“Kim Hongjoong.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” The response seems to hang in the air, a bridge between the past and the present, a marker of his identity before the curse that had transformed him.

An uncomfortable quiet follows, the weight of revelations and the unspoken understanding rendering words momentarily inadequate. Seeking a refuge in the familiarity of action, you take another spoonful of porridge, the act providing temporary solace.

Breaking through the silence, he cautiously inquires, his voice softer than before, “Is it okay?” The gaze you direct at Hongjoong carries an unspoken question, “The porridge?” he clarifies.

Your response is a nod as you offer him a tentative smile that reflects your gratitude. “It's really tasty. Thank you.”

Hongjoong’s nod is a humble acknowledgement, his gaze holding a fleeting yet meaningful connection with yours. As the seconds tick by, another awkward silence settles, but this one holds the gentle promise of the unknown.

That evening as the sunset paints the evening sky in hues of purple and orange, you find yourself in the presence of Wooyoung and San. Their eyes, suffused with the relief of your recovering strength, mirror the unspoken concern that brought them here. Nestled at your side, Hongjoong has resumed his feline form, a steadfast source of familiar comfort as Wooyoung tells you about the people who had gone missing. As the priest banished the demon, they were liberated from the captivity of the demon who was using them as a source to draw power. You are glad to know that Miyeon and the others have safely returned to their homes, and the four of you enjoy an evening filled with the warmth of companionship.

As your body completes its healing process, a newfound awareness awakens within you—an inkling that your magic has indeed undergone a transformation. Engaging Hongjoong in conversation about this, you both reach a consensus that teaching each other about your respective magic could be the key to unravelling the intricacies of your unique connection.

You start small, inviting Hongjoong to partake in nurturing the growth of herbs and other flora and having him observe the delicate craft of potion-making. With patience and thoroughness that speaks to the depth of your understanding, you slowly and meticulously introduce him to the art that has been your life’s calling.

Conversely, Hongjoong takes a more theoretical approach. Armed with the wealth of knowledge he has amassed over the years, he embarks on the journey of studying dark magic alongside you. Evenings become an intimate soiree of shared books, a merging of his wisdom and your practical expertise. The pursuit is not without its challenges, especially for him as the concepts of dark magic are both familiar and alien, a delicate dance between his past experiences and his present identity.

Slowly but surely, the awkwardness of your interactions dissipates, and you settle into a rhythm, an understanding blooming from the mutual pursuit of knowledge. Hongjoong’s presence becomes an inseparable part of your magical undertakings, his assistance serving as both catalyst and amplification. The mundane tasks of your craft transform into collaborative ventures that find their completion with newfound ease and velocity.

In this partnership, you both traverse uncharted realms, unearthing hidden gems of wisdom and forging new techniques. You discover the intricacies of advanced protective charms, the nuances of spellcasting, and the delicate balance between the ethereal and the tangible. Every conversation brings new insights as his eyes aglow with passion while he delves into explanations that light up your understanding.

Hongjoong isn’t oblivious to the subtle shifts in your demeanour either, the way your attention seems to gravitate toward his words with an almost magnetic pull. He playfully teases you when you zone out while listening to him, but beneath his banter lies a quiet satisfaction at having captured your focus.

One summer evening, almost two years after you found and healed Hongjoong, you find yourself basking in the warmth of his presence. As Hongjoong delves into the mysteries of Tarot cards, your attention wavers. Mesmerised by his words, your gaze inadvertently drifts to his lips, where the graceful dance of his explanations seems to take on a sensual rhythm of its own. Lost in the tempo of his speech, you’re barely aware of your growing fascination until the sound of his clearing throat breaks through your reverie. Flushing in embarrassment, you avert your gaze, your heart racing at having been caught by him.

Hongjoong chuckles softly, a melodious sound that carries warmth. His fingers, feather-light and tinged with confidence, slide beneath your chin, lifting it until your eyes meet his. His touch is tender, a silent reassurance that dissipates your unease, even as his eyes search yours with an intensity that ignites a flutter in your chest.

The air between you seems charged with unspoken desires, and as Hongjoong’s gaze darkens, your heart skips a beat. His presence is magnetic, his proximity an intoxicating pull that leaves you breathless. The realisation that this is a defining juncture in your connection dawns upon you, your anticipation matched only by the uncertainty of what's to come.

“May I kiss you?” Leaned in so close that his breath dances upon your lips, Hongjoong’s voice is barely a whisper as he seeks permission, his question hanging between you like a promise. His eyes, fixed on your mouth, reflect the yearning that pulses through his veins.

Your nod is almost imperceptible, a fervent agreement that is all the confirmation Hongjoong needs. His lips descend upon yours with a delicate reverence, his touch a gentle brush that sends sparks through your very being. A deep, resonant purr thrums from within his chest, the vibrations of which reverberate against you as he draws you closer to himself.

Hongjoong’s kiss unfolds with a tenderness that contrasts the unspoken longing that has been growing between the two of you. His lips move against yours in a rhythm that speaks of his own vulnerability, each touch conveying a deeper sentiment. But as you respond in earnest, his tongue glides across your lips, prompting longing to flare through your veins.

Your lips part, the connection broken only for a moment as you both draw a ragged breath. Yet, the space between you feels electric, the air pregnant with the promise of what’s to come. Giving in to desire, Hongjoong’s kisses trail along your jaw, igniting sensations that tumble forth as a soft, involuntary whimper. The velvety brush of his lips against your skin seems to write a narrative of its own as if he’s trying to make a home in your very soul.

With a husky murmur, Hongjoong guides you forward, his voice a seductive entreaty that resonates through your core. As his teeth graze beneath the collar of your shirt, a shiver courses down your spine, “That's it, love,” he exhales, his words a sultry invitation to unravel the depths of your desires. “Let me hear you.”

The fervour of your shared moment is interrupted by a sudden, urgent knock on your door. The sound jolts you both out of the cocoon of passion, and you exchange a hasty yet intense kiss as if to imprint the sensation on your soul before pulling away. Breathing heavily, you share a lingering glance before reluctantly untangling yourself from his embrace and heading to the front door, your heartbeats echoing the electricity that still courses through your veins.

As you open the door, you’re met with the sight of Wooyoung and San, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. They look at you and Hongjoong with knowing smiles as if they can sense the transformation in the air, but they refrain from commenting. It’s a silent acknowledgement of the intimacy that has bloomed between you, and you’re grateful for their unspoken understanding.

In the days that follow, you and Hongjoong continue navigating your newfound connection. The kiss remains unspoken, yet its imprint is undeniable. The two of you seem to share a mutual agreement to explore this uncharted territory without the constraints of labels or expectations, allowing your relationship to unfurl naturally.

With Hongjoong by your side, every interaction becomes a wordless conversation, every shared glance a testament to the bond that has formed between you. The ease with which you navigate each other’s thoughts and emotions astounds you as if you’ve known each other across lifetimes.

With Hongjoong, you find solace and a rare understanding that extends beyond the realms of mere companionship. With him by your side, life seems to flow effortlessly, and even the challenges that come your way are met with a united front, the strength of your connection acting as a shield against adversity.

As time passes, you realise that what you have with Hongjoong is more profound than any bond you could have hoped for had you connected with a familiar. Yours is a love that has grown from mutual respect, shared experiences, and the unspoken promises that linger between your glances.

You might have longed for a familiar as a young witch, but now you realise that fate had something even better in store for you—a soul who understands you in ways words can never express and a heart that beats in harmony with your own. With Hongjoong by your side, you found the person who complemented your magic, someone who loved you and would go to the ends of the earth for you, and you knew that you’d do the same for him.

#collab : stuck in summer #hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong headcanons #hongjoong reactions #hongjoong fluff #cromernet #outlaw/precious #ateez fanfic

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