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mrwavellswaps · 3 months

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Noticing The Difference

I never should’ve bought that fucking statue.

Two months ago I was, dare I say, an absolute hunk. I’d been working out for years on end. Always pushing my limits at every opportunity I could to grow better and stronger. I had a great diet which I made sure to always stick to and plenty of mates I could hit up the gym with. I was in the best shape of my life. Both looking and feeling bigger than ever with muscles that always managed to get me compliments from other dudes at the gym. Not to mention my genetics doing the absolute most by blessing me with a height of 6’1, a handsome face, a perfect hairline and an incredible beard. Looks that, needless to say, got me into bed with plenty of other hot dudes. Daddies, hunks, twinks. You name it. I’d been with them all.

I had everything going for me. I had a great job at my local gym. I’d been approached by multiple modelling agencies. I’d even amassed a fairly large following across my social media with my comment sections always full of thirsty people who ranged from leaving playful compliments to begging me for an onlyfans. Something I’d honestly begun to consider.

But then the statue happened. I found it at a small antique shop in town. I’m not even sure why I went in there. It was like something was drawing me in. Yet as soon as I was in the door I was greeted by an older man who wasted not time in offering his assistance. He whisked me around the shop, showing me everything he had to offer but I could tell he seemed particularly keen on selling me that one statue. I had no idea why at the time but in the end he won me over. It was fairly cheap and looked nice I supposed so before I knew it the shopkeeper was grinning as he took my money and handed me a receipt.

I found a spot for it at home on one of my bedroom shelves. But it was shortly after this that weird things began to happen. I found myself staring at it constantly. My eyes always drawn to the statue. I’d find myself thinking about it when I was at work. But things only started getting really weird when I began to get erections while looking at it. I had no idea why but my cock couldn’t help stiffening whenever my eyes met that of the statue. It very quickly got worse until soon enough I was standing in the middle of the room unable to break eye contact with the statue while jerking my fat dick. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. It had some kind of hold over me. It wasn’t long then before I could feel my load rising up and getting ready to erupt until suddenly… I couldn’t move.

Everything around me spun and blurred in a dizzying fashion. When my vision cleared I was no longer staring at the statue, but rather I was staring at my own face! It didn’t make any sense! Somehow I was now looking at my muscular body from the outside as if I were a mere spectator. I had no idea what was going on but I couldn’t help feeling a wave of dread wash over me as my former face grinned maliciously at me. Seconds later however that grin twisted into a look of sheer pleasure as he drained my balls completely, groaning in my voice as he did.

“Fuuuuuuckk! It’s been too long since I’ve busted a nut!” He moaned while wiping some of my cum off his hand. Soon after he went on explain what just happened. Apparently the statue I’d bought was cursed. Every few years it starts to lure in a new victim. Making them want to take it home with them and soon become so entranced by it that they end up jerking off to it. In the process making their minds weak enough that the statue can steal their soul and trap them within itself. The side effect to this however is that the soul of the statue’s previous victim gets to take the newly vacant body in return. “Bro you have no idea how excited I was the second I saw you walking into the shop.”

I couldn’t believe it at first. I didn’t want to! But the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore as I watched this stranger begin to flex my muscles with a stupid smirk on what should’ve been my face. All while I was frozen in place. Unable to move or speak. Only capable of seeing and hearing. Completely powerless to stop this stranger from exploring the body he’d effectively stolen from me. And to make it even worse…

“Fuck. I’m gonna pull so many hot chicks with this body! Their pussies are gonna be dripping for this dick!”

He was straight.

Since then I’ve been unable to do anything but watch from a shelf in my bedroom as this guy took over my life completely. At first he really tried to act as much like me as possible. Shortly after taking my place, he looked through pretty much all my personal belongings much to my unheard protests. Learning every bit of information he could that he hadn’t already figured out in the time he’d been watching me from the statue. He must’ve scrolled through my phone for hours, looking through all my apps and messages. All the while playfully taunting me about it.

And after that he soon started going out. Dressing exactly as I would to meet with family and friends. And as soon as he got home he’d immediately come and tell me everything. Describing to me how hardly any of the people I knew even noticed a difference besides giving him an odd look here and there. It was both infuriating and terrifying at the same time. But I honestly couldn’t blame them. With my body’s muscle memory he already had most of my mannerisms down and could talk almost exactly like I did. And that’s how I thought things were going to stay. This imposter becoming my perfect replacement. That is until about a month in when something began to change…

He came into the bedroom one day and groaned as he threw off one of my now sweaty tank tops after what I can only assume was a jog home after a tough gym session to keep that body in shape. He finally allowed himself to catch his breath while placing his hands on those impressive hips I used to own. As he did his gaze shifted towards me; Initially with a glance before then turning to a smile which wouldn’t have seemed nearly as mocking if he didn’t follow it up with that annoying peace sign.

I rolled my metaphorical eyes at the gesture as he jumped on my bed and pulled out my laptop. Unfortunately I already knew what he was doing as he scrolled through some tabs he had saved while tugging down his shorts and unleashing that thick cock I used to own. I couldn’t help cringing like always as I watched him pull up a video and start jerking off to some girl bouncing her tits. He might’ve copied me in many ways but that definitely wasn’t one of them. It was always so unnerving to see my body and cock get horny over women. I usually just try my best to ignore it and hope he finishes quickly… but today wasn’t one of those days. It felt like hours before he finally tossed his head back and moaned with my voice as he spurted my load everywhere while a chick on the laptop was getting her pussy pounded.

“Ohhh gooddd!” He slurred his words coming off the high of orgasm. “I can’t take it anymore!” I had no idea what he meant at first but in hindsight if I’d known I would’ve wished for anything to stop him.

After cleaning himself up, that imposter trudged over towards me and looked me dead in the eyes. “Look man. I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you this last month. Taking your body and what not. And I promise it wasn’t personal… not that I’m complaining.” A line he’d said to me many times by now as he flexed one of my biceps yet again. “I’ve tried to keep up this act of being you to be respectful I guess but I just can’t do it anymore bro! I wanna act like me!” I couldn’t help but find that last line somewhat ironic. “No offence dude but I'm not into half the stuff your friends and family expect me to be into and I'm not gay either. And I don’t wanna hide that anymore.” I could already feel my nightmare about this whole situation coming true at this point. “Sorry but I'm doing things my way now. I know you’re probably not gonna like it but I promise I’ll make it up to you bro. As soon as that statue you’re trapped in is ready to do its crazy magic shit again, I’ll make sure you get a sick new body. Maybe then we could hang out sometime as bros. No homo though.” He chuckled. And if that last joke wasn’t warning enough for what was to come, I didn’t know what was.

Immediately I could see the shift in his behaviour. Whenever he spoke he began to sound less like me and more like a douchey straight guy who can’t help saying ‘bro’ every other sentence. Things like the way he carried himself began to change and become more characteristic of the man who’d taken my identity. Next were the clothes as he quickly stopped wearing a lot of the tighter looking clothes I owned and pretty much threw out most of the clothes he considered to be ‘too gay’. Quickly replacing them with new clothes he’d bought which just made my former body look so painfully straight. But I guess that’s what he was aiming for.

But it didn’t stop there. I’d already figured out he was a football guy before now with how I could always hear him shouting and cheering at the TV whenever there was a match on. So it wasn’t long before he’d bought a bunch of football related shit as well to put up around my place. After which he told me all about how my friends thought it was so weird that he was so into football now. I wasn’t surprised considering I’d always said before how much the sport bored me.

Now he’d turned my former self into one of the straightest looking and acting guys on the planet. And this couldn’t have been more apparent as I heard him come home with what sounded like two other dudes he’d made friends with at the gym. Straight gym bros I assumed who I’d probably never spoken to before. I could hear them all getting settled on the couch with beers as they hung out. Doing weird shit like chugging their beer and seeing who could belch the loudest. Eugh. I tried to ignore it but my ears couldn’t help perking up when they started having a conversation about my former self’s sexuality…

“Yeah I dunno guys. I used to think I was gay but recently I’ve been thinking of experimenting you know? I’ve always been curious as to what fucking pussy feels like.” I heard him say. Fuck. Up until now he hadn’t actually had sex with a woman since taking my body despite how much he talked about wanting to do it. I figured at least a part of him still felt bad for stealing my body and he probably figured I’d hate it. So when I heard one of his new bros offering to call up a lady friend of his who apparently had a crush on my imposter. I’d have screamed for him not to take the offer if I could. But there was nothing I could do.

“Call her bro.”

Before I know it I have to bear witness as my own body stumbles into the bedroom with a busty chick wrapped around his waist. As they kissed their way over towards the bed, he looked up at me with a what seemed to be a somewhat guilty look. However that look was quickly wiped away as the chick grabbed his bulge, coaxing a satisfactory grunt out from my former voice. Now I found myself cringing a hundred times harder than I ever did before as she started going on about how she knew I wasn’t really gay and that I just needed the right woman.

What came after seemed like torture to me. Having to watch as my imposter got his dick sucked by a woman I didn’t know. Staring on helplessly as he reached down and grabbed at her tits, causing my old dick to buck with excitement as he squeezed them. And even worse so as he moved on to sliding my cock between her tits and fucking them! It felt so wrong to watch but I couldn’t look away as he eventually stopping fucking her tits only to start eating out her pussy instead! God… seeing my own face between a woman’s legs just looked wrong. And yet he was having the time of his life.

But eventually my worst fear came true as I watched him line my cock up with the entrance to her pussy. I could swear he looked up at me again just for a second to mouth the words ‘sorry bro’ before suddenly plunging inside her. And once he did he was like an animal. A beast even! Slamming my formerly gay cock as deep into her pussy as it would go, causing them both to wail out in pleasure. After that he must’ve pounded her for what seemed like hours to me. Stuffing that big titted bimbo full with my dick as the only sound that could be heard over all the moaning was my balls slapping against her taint. Torture didn’t even sound like a strong enough word at this point.

They switched positions a couple of times before they finally reached the climax. Across which time the chick complimented my former cock multiple times on how perfect it was for her pussy and how it made her cum faster than any other guy could. But eventually my imposter reached his limit. There were a few uneven thrusts before finally he let out a long loud groan just as I always did when I came. Immediately his cock began to spasm as it filled the pussy below him with an enormous load, much to this chick’s desire by the look of it. And he wasn’t even wearing a fucking condom…

A few minutes later I had the displeasure of watching him slowly dislodge from her pussy with a dumb grin. He wiped off his sticky cock and pulled on a pair of baggy shorts as the chick continued to bask in the afterglow of it all. I watched as he headed towards the door where his new bros were waiting for him on the other side.

“How was it man? You still think you’re gay?” One of them asked.

That body snatcher of mine grinned. “Nope. I’m as straight as an arrow bros. Tits and pussy only from now on.” He claimed, having to make it all sound somewhat believable before the other two men wrapped their arms around him in a celebratory manner before grabbing him another beer.

I can already tell these are gonna be a looooong few years before he’s finally able to keep that promise and put me in a new body. At this rate by the time I get out of this curse statue, he’ll have knocked up enough bimbo’s to have his own soccer team. Hopefully he’ll start using a condom before then…

#male body theft #male body swap #magic #curse #gay to straight #identity theft #jock #male hypno #permanent #male possession #muscle theft #male muscle growth

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agirlcandream84 · 19 days

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HIII !!! im the anon that asked for neighbor!frank, and to answer your question... Why not both? 💋💋💋

Ok twist my arm why don't ya. First batch, Boyfriend!Frank:

Boyfriend!Frank Headcanons- yet again.

Frank is a SIMP for you cracking his back. As soon as he's face-down on the bed, he's pawing at you to straddle his broad back like "come on honey, get on top of me-- give it to me good" and making you lean your whole weight onto his spine-- a satisfying crack rippling through him while you shriek "oh-my-god-did-i-hurt-you?!" and he just chuckles with "nah sweetheart, do it again f'me" Sometimes you think it's as good as sex for him. Almost.

Speaking of sex though... one time you decide to tease Frank via pics while he was out of the apartment, every pic more suggestive and lewd than the last and when he finally bursts through the door you act coy for about 0.5 secs before Frank hauls you from the kitchen, your toes only skimming the floor as he carries you effortlessly with one hand, his other hand already working to unzip his pants, and tosses-- literally tosses-- you on the bed, as he crawls onto the bed after you and taps your knee with "open 'em for me doll. Not gonna ask twice."

You beg Frank for his help to paint your toenails for you and he pretends to grumble about but he secretly loves it. He's meticulous and even perches a set of magnifying reading glasses on his nose as he does it. Just his big hulking head hunched over your foot, his crooked nose inches from the tips of your toes. He's so proud of his work that he stops you from getting up before they're dry like "nah nah nah, you're gonna mess 'em all up 'n shit. Stay put, I'll get your book."

Frank does not take kindly to people (let's be real, men) disrespecting your intelligence. When you're remodeling your bathroom and you're looking for the right tile, the store clerk is talking directly to Frank about every detail, acting like you don't even exist. Frank is all, "The fuck you tellin' me for buddy? My lady asked you the question. Why don't you answer her," and the guy is suddenly tripping over his words as he gives you an apology.

You got it in your brain that you wanted to learn how to roller skate and your apartment is all hardwood floors so it felt like a perfect place to practice and Frank is like a nervous parent to a toddler, putting towels over sharp table corners, shouting "Go slow!" down the hallway and generally hovering around for the (many) inevitable times you lose your footing-- his thick arm looping around your waist as your feet slide out from under you and he's mumbling "gonna fucking kill yourself on these fucking things."

Frank didn't have much a sweet tooth except for your banana bread. The first time you made it you never saw him take a bite but somehow the loaf kept getting smaller and smaller. One night you reach over to Frank in the middle of the night but he wasn't in bed so you pad into the kitchen all groggy and rubbing your eyes asking "Frankie?" and there he is in the dark kitchen, enjoying a hunk of banana bread he tore off with his bare hands.

Unsurprisingly, Frank is a cash-carrying guy and you simply never have cash when you need it so Frank has taken to leaving a stack of bills tucked in your wallet once a week because he doesn't like you not having some spending money and emergency cash on hand.

Unfortunately, Frank was always scaring you on accident. Sure, sometimes you could hear the clunk of his boots from a mile away but Frank was pretty stealthy more often than not, even when he wasn't trying. Pair that with your nervous system being one that was sorta lowkey always on high alert and that amounts to you yelping in fright at least once a day when Frank seemingly appears out of nowhere. Of course, Frank interprets this as an opportunity to better educate you on how to be aware of your surroundings like "Come on sweetheart, you gotta get out of that pretty head of yours. Gotta stay sharp, alright?"

It took ffooorrrvveer into your relationship for Frank to even show you that he got sleepy sometimes-- LIKE A HUMAN. The first months of living together you didn't see Frank so much as yawn and he was always awake when you fell asleep and awake when you woke up in the morning. But finally, he slowly dropped his tough-guy-watch-dog visage just enough to let himself get cuddly when he was feeling slightly needy like when he was sick or especially tired or thinking about the past too much. His favorite spot was his cheek pressed into the warm smooth skin of your chest, his hands softly running over your breasts and his warm breath tickling your stomach. It was one of the one places he let himself be taken care of, just for a moment, with your nails scratching his scalp slightly.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fanfic #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x female reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 6 months

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yes or no?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader, slight yoongi x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is distraught to know he can't jack off. After all, he spent all that money to complete his tattoo sleeve. He wasn't about to ruin all that hard work just for a quick nut. But it's going to take a while to heal. Days – no, weeks! – with no masturbating. Waaah! Why did he pick his right arm?! Thankfully, noona to the rescue... right? RIGHT?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; slight crack b/c JK's POV; JK is whipped, welp; smut (fem reader, minor D/s dynamics, sexual fantasies, heavy petting / teasing, cock-and-ball torture, finger sucking, spit kink, handjob / m-masturbation, edging / orgasm denial, hair-pulling kink, nipple play, m-receiving oral, multiple orgasms, mentioned forearm kink); noona!reader; pleasure is JK-focused and JK's POV

'magic-8' ball noona is back! no need to read, just know there's a yoongi x reader x jk sex triangle and they're roommates :D

Jeon Jungkook was in pain, horny, and depressed.

On the plus side, his tattoo sleeve was almost completed!

Woohoo!

Sigh, no, he still felt like throwing himself into a wall and sliding down to become an unmoving puddle of goo. So tired. He always felt like this after the adrenaline of a long tattoo session. Session days were fun while he was in the studio hanging out with the tattoo artist, even for hours on end. He had brought his own snacks, plenty of water, and pain medication. The artist had even brought lunch for him – probably because Jungkook was spending a LOT of money covering up some old tattoos he ragretted regretted, but hey! Free food! Jungkook was always happy to receive free meat!

Wait. That sound weird.

Eh.

Anyway.

He sighed as he fumbled with his keys, trying to use his left hand as much as possible. Today, the artist had worked on his right forearm and filling in his elbow with black. The skin there was irritated and covered in plastic, which made it annoying to do common tasks he noticed. Great. Another day of not getting off. Yeah, Jungkook loved getting tattoos but it made him grumpy that he couldn’t just jerk off whenever he wanted.

What?!

It was a legitimate reason to be grumpy, dammit.

Why did Jungkook pick his right arm for his tattoo sleeve? Simple. He had no foresight and tattoos were permanent. Whoops. (He was not an idiot. Trust.) He finally got the key into the lock and turned it. His life wouldn’t be so hard (keke) if it wasn’t for his current living arrangements. To be clear, he really did love living in Kim Seokjin’s house full of his friends. There was just one problem. One very sexy problem.

He opened the door cautiously, wondering if he would hear moaning today.

Silence.

Whew.

The house smelled really good though. Like food. Mmmm. Food. Jungkook wandered in, loosely holding onto the strap of his large black bag and stepping out of his shoes, neatly settling them into their spot… to avoid getting scolded later. He was a good boy.

Sometimes.

The current residents of the home were: Kim Seokjin, the owner of the house, actor, and professional whaler in too many games; Kim Taehyung, a fashion model and close friend that had taken over Park Jimin’s spot after Jimin had moved out to work overseas for a while; Min Yoongi, a music producer and quite possibly sex on legs (Taehyung’s words, one had to be there for it to be funny); and the Magic-8 ball noona. The only girl. Also, she was, erm, part of a consensual sex triangle that Jungkook was a member of but he definitely didn’t start it.

Really…!

Anyway.

She had a real name but Jungkook was always going to remember that cursed hunk of plastic denying him twenty-six times. Besides, it was just easier to refer to her as noona since she was the one female and older than him. It was proper and polite. She was only by name when he was on his knees and begging to cum.

Cough.

Anyway!

He made his way into the kitchen carefully. It wasn’t unusual for the house to be fairly quiet as it was quite common for the introverts to split up and occupy themselves with their respective hobbies, especially when Taehyung went out with his friends. Jungkook vaguely remembered Taehyung saying he was going to a sauna with his squad or something like that. Seokjin was probably playing MapleStory in the master bedroom with his headphones on. Something about a new update. He wasn’t coming out unless to eat and even that would be rare. Yoongi and noona… well, they were either fucking or holed up in their respective rooms being creative.

Oh.

Yeah, did he mention the other part of this sex triangle was his sharp-witted, cat-eyed, resting-bitch-face-but-secretly-a-tsundere hyung? And the first place Jungkook witnessed Yoongi and her having sex was the kitchen he was about to walk into? His dick twitched every time he entered the kitchen because of it. He both felt guilty and became aroused by the wrongness of it. Then got more turned on when he remembered that he couldn’t masturbate tonight. Maybe he should just touch himself with his left hand to relieve some pressure. Or make it worse. On purpose.

Ugh, maybe he really was a masochist.

Jungkook rounded the corner and yelped when found himself cornered by his hyung and his noona glaring at him.

“Wah!”

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” his grumpy hyung grumbled.

“There you are,” his mischievous noona mused, waving about a ladle like it was a magic wand. “Sit down, sit down. You must be hungry after a long day.”

“Why didn’t you text? We ended up having dinner without you, hah,” Yoongi hmphed, poking Jungkook in the chest. The older male looked tired and overworked. One glance between the glowing, calm smile to Yoongi’s messy black hair sticking up in every direction. It was pretty clear what went down. RIP, hyung. His hyung was wearing an elegant black silk pajama shirt and matching pants with the waistband slightly askew. Red mark on the fair skin of his exposed collarbone.

Here? Or in her bed? Or in his bed? Or… mine so it smells just like them?

It was an irrelevant thought, as Jungkook rarely slept in his own bed despite having one. He had a bad habit unique quirk of falling asleep wherever he was, whenever he felt the need to sleep. This greatly annoyed Seokjin and made Taehyung laugh. Sometimes Jungkook would wake up with the latter guy sleeping on top of him like a handsome sloth. Just Taehyung things. But most times, Jungkook was in his noona’s bed.

Hey! It was a comfy bed.

Ahem.

Jungkook received another sharp poke and he jumped, stumbling as he was pushed to the kitchen island, extra startled as Yoongi wordlessly pulled out the seat for him. He got a what? look in response, complete with black strands falling over those narrowed dark brown eyes.

“Don’t you have to be careful about your arm, especially the first night?” Yoongi puffed. “Don’t get used to it.”

“O-Oh… yeah… t-thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi pretended not to hear and scooted himself towards the stove. She was standing next to a pot on low heat looking remarkably put together in red plaid pajamas. Jungkook plopped his butt onto the tall chair and put his bag on the other, yanking off his beanie. Ruffled his hair quickly to avoid his short black hair looking flat and dumb. He pretended like he wasn’t checking out the way her juicy butt completely filled out the pants and the way they clung to her lush hips. He pretended he didn’t notice that the top was relatively cropped and he could clearly see her amazing waist to ass ratio. He definitely didn’t say anything about how nice it was to see the beautiful curve of her neck due to the cute sheep-shaped claw clip collecting her hair back. And he surely didn’t go completely breathless when she turned around with a steaming bowl, suddenly realizing her pajama shirt was held together by only a single button in the center and she clearly wasn’t wearing a bra. There was a row of buttons; she just hadn’t done them up.

Fuck.

It was violently unfair that she was allowed to look this hot in normal clothes.

She leaned over the counter and placed the bowl in front of him. He could see down her shirt. Damn. Even through the flannel fabric, Jungkook could still see the peaks of her nipples if he really stared. Really, really stared. For maybe ten seconds.

He jumped at the clink of a metal spoon against ceramic.

“You should eat,” she said with an enigmatic smile. Gracefully balanced her chin on the back of her knuckles, her fingers fanned downwards, her elbows resting on the counter to look into his eyes.

Shit, he was smooth melting like butter under that hot gaze.

“Pick your jaw off the floor,” said a gruff voice in Daegu satoori.

Jungkook jolted as crabby Yoongi appeared seemingly out of nowhere – well, he was here the whole time, oop – and cocked an eyebrow at him. Now the older two were both standing side by side, observing him expectantly. It was only then that Jungkook looked down and realized what was in front of him.

“Wait… it’s not my birthday.”

She chuckled. Her eyes sparkled with mirth. Ugh, he loved seeing them directed at him. “Seaweed soup will be good after a long tattoo day. You need nutrients. You need energy. Plus, Yoongi added beef in there for you. There’s some rice too, but not too much because Yoongi said you don’t like having too many carbs before sleeping. More meat, as you like it,” she concluded, using the spoon to show him all the ingredients. “We made it for you. Eat.”

She smiled exactly how the Cheshire cat would grin. He glanced at Yoongi who was staring at his fingernails like they were the most interesting thing in the world. They stood close to each other. No mistaking their closeness. The worst (best?) part was that even though Jungkook knew exactly what had happened while he was gone all those hours, he didn’t find this scene offensive.

In fact, he felt a bit teary from their consideration.

“T-Thanks…”

He took the spoon from her, his inhale hitching as his fingertips brushed against hers. Oh, her hands. Those lovely hands. His gaze shifted up, his heart beating fast. The side of her lips tugged upwards.

A smile turned smirk.

His cock twitched as Jungkook remembered her smirking face grinning up at him with his cum drenched all over her tongue. The last time he had jacked off into her mouth.

Argh!

He had used his left hand, mostly because he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do the repeated motion of bending his right arm and bringing the utensil to his mouth right now. Hmmmm. He scrunched up his face and wrinkled his nose. It probably wouldn’t be the best idea. He didn’t want to mess up the line work and all that nice color shading. He was already doing the cover ups, after all. Plus, it did hurt a little moving too much. He would just see how far he could get. It was pretty easy since it was soup and the pieces of beef were cut pretty small.

They must have thought of that.

Jungkook tried not to cry grateful tears into his seaweed soup as he heard his hyung and noona busy themselves with cleaning the kitchen, ‘cause that would be utterly embarrassing and not very manly, sniff.

Thankfully, he was saved by his rising boner.

The thing was, Jungkook was pretty sure he wasn’t turned on by pain. Ahem. Okay, maybe a little (lotta) bit. But, time and place! This was precisely why he picked a very cool and very talented male tattoo artist. He could ask questions and be noisy and immature and not feel bad. Jungkook liked female artists but he would get too mentally distracted because he didn’t really know what to talk about, so his mind would end up wandering to another set of hands and then, bam! A not useful boner. Also, he didn’t want to creep anybody out or make them uncomfortable. That would be mean.

But, uh.

Jungkook was beginning to realize he enjoyed and hated these long sessions. He enjoyed them because he very much considered his tattoo artist his friend. He enjoyed them because his close friends were supportive, bought him snacks, and told him he was cool or brave for getting so many tattoos (very important, yup). And, yeah, he liked the repeated stabbing (it was addictive, okay?!). But he also enjoyed them because of how attentive his noona was before and during the aftercare process. She helped him prepare his bag prior to the appointment, would make sure to remind him to keep the area hydrated, make him his favorite meals (meat!), and be the first to help him in case he needed it. As for the hate part…

Ugh, it made him so fucking horny knowing he couldn’t get off without her help.

Yeah, sure, he could use his left hand. But the nut would be pisslow awful and not at all satisfying. Of course, Jungkook could wait and use his right when he felt like it was fine but that wouldn’t be for a while. He didn’t spend all that money to have to explain that he wanted a touch-up because he needed to cum being around a literal sex goddess his noona (not to mention what a mortifying thing to say to his poor tattoo artist that didn’t need to know all that). And there was no way in hell Jungkook was going to avoid his noona during his recovery. She had just made him seaweed soup! Oh, yeah, and Yoongi was there too. Anyway, the forced waiting turned him on even more than usual because there was a real reason behind it. After his first long session, he even clumsily edged himself with his left hand, multiple times, before he asked her to get him off, just so it felt even better when her lips closed around his leaking, desperate cock.

Jungkook choked on some beef.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m – ack! – fine. Totally fine!” he managed to hack out in a very not-fine tone.

“You look like you’re choking,” Yoongi commented matter-of-factly, eerily similar to a narrator of a nature documentary.

“Be careful,” she laughed, coming around the counter to rub his back. Aaaah! Jungkook lifted his right arm slightly and tried to subtly punch his dick down into submission but, as it turned out, his erection was as stubborn as he was. Awesome. Not to mention space was very limited under the counter. Shit. She patted in between his shoulder blades. “Want some water?”

“No, hah, I’m f-fine,” he wheezed, freezing up a little at her touch. He thought he was used to it by now but he really wasn’t, especially when his dick was already halfway up the stairs to heaven. Down to hell to the circle of lust? Whatever. She wasn’t too close, as she was on his right side, but he had enough memories to know how skin-to skin felt, enough times of her breasts pressed to his back and her hands exploring his chest, enough moments of her agile fingers splayed out over his pecs like blooming flowers, running her nails over his skin, flicking his nipples, all the while tracing her tongue along the base of his neck with her hard nipples rubbing against his shivering back…

Okay.

Jungkook was not fine.

“It’s kinda warm…” he mumbled as she moved away.

“That’s because you’re still wearing your jacket and having hot soup,” Yoongi pointed out, putting away some bowls. “Take it off.”

“Want help?”

It was a very innocent suggestion. Thus, Jungkook spent the next minute trying not to reveal that he had popped a boner while eating seaweed soup, sitting up and sticking out his arms like a Ken doll, letting those dreamy, long fingers peel away his oversized white and black racer jacket. Left arm first, then the right, taking care to slide it off, the sleeve cocoon stripping back to reveal the beautiful butterfly that was his fresh, brightly inked right arm.

“Oh? That’s right, you were covering up some big tattoos today, huh?” Yoongi perked up, his raspy voice with a twinge of curiosity, padding over to investigate. Underneath the jacket, Jungkook had worn a closely fitted, white, ribbed tank top. Comfy but wouldn’t get in the way. “Ho, so much color. Quite rockstar of you. You’re become such a cool guy, heh.”

“I wanted the individual images to stand out more and the artist suggested adding some color,” Jungkook clarified, slurping away at his dinner again. “I just trusted him.”

“He did such a good job,” she was saying, delicately holding his hand. Jungkook tried not to melt into a puddle. “The gradient is fantastic. The text here looks cleaner too.”

“Oh, yeah, I asked him to clean up some of my older tattoos too. For consistency.”

He continued munching happily until…

“So, what’s with the boner?”

Jungkook nearly choked again.

“Ay, Yoongi-ssi, leave him alone,” she chided, smacking Yoongi in the butt. Received a scalding squinty side-eye in response but she didn’t seem to give a shit. Nerves of steel. “You know he can’t cum unless I let him.”

Wow, okay, way to broadcast the facts!

“Hey!”

She tilted her head and rubbed the tip of his nose. Open-mouthed smirk included. Gulp. “Am I wrong?”

Against his better judgement, Jungkook pouted. “Noona…”

She patted his thigh. Condescendingly. He intensified his pout but it was futile. “Finish eating, okay? I’ll help you out in the shower…” She winked, devilish. “As usual.”

Yoongi snickered. “Just don’t be too loud.”

“Put on some headphones then,” she countered.

“Oi, I’m not blowing out my eardrums.”

“Then listen,” she hummed, caressing Jungkook’s jeans. “Or watch. No one’s stopping you.”

The bottom of Yoongi’s lips upturned, giving him the expression of a disgruntled cat. “I have to sleep.”

“Oh, like you don’t sleep enough, grandpa.”

“That wasn’t what you were calling me when I had you folded in half under me.”

Jungkook was left to slurp his soup to the sound of their bickering as her hand gently stroked the inside of his thigh. It could be worse. Could be better too, like her unzipping him and establishing dominance by jacking him off at the kitchen island. But Yoongi was not so easily fazed, so she didn’t, and Jungkook cried at (and secretly enjoyed) the feeling of pre-cum soaking through his underwear.

Turns out, he didn’t have to wait that long to enjoy suffering.

Er.

Attention?

Towards the end of his meal was getting a bit annoying to scoop up what was left, so Jungkook put down the spoon to pick up the bowl and drink of the rest of the soup. For a brief second, he was let go and he noticed Yoongi was flicking his hand over his noona’s chest. She grabbed his hand, pulling that scowling face to her into a sudden and tense kiss. Hey, he wasn’t above some adult entertainment while eating. Well, maybe not during the majority of the meal, but Jungkook kept a (big) peeper out. From his periphery, he saw Yoongi slip his hands under her shirt and heard her murmur in satisfaction, trailing kisses over Yoongi’s face. He saw his hyung smile in response, warm and genuine and butterfly-inducing.

Jungkook lowered the bowl slowly as Yoongi opened his eyes.

And winked.

Devilish.

“I’m leaving,” Yoongi suddenly announced, untangling himself and slinking away.

His noona snickered and shook her head. “Okay, nerd.”

Then she turned around and, before Jungkook could say anything about Yoongi running away like a criminal undercover, she revealed that her shirt was now open and fully exposing her perky tits and large, hard nipples.

“Oh!”

Jungkook felt his eyeballs nearly pop out of his skull at the unexpected surprise.

She acted as if they could ever have a normal conversation with her boobs right in front of his face. “So, are you still tired? Just wanna get washed up and go to sleep?”

He tried to answer but from the first word it was impossible. Her pajama shirt was sliding down her perfect shoulders, revealing smooth skin and the flannel fabric cradled her breasts, framing them perfectly. She smelled fresh and fruity, just like her signature lotion scent. Blackberry and vanilla. Her forearms lay against his thighs, forcing his body to turn, and he gasped as her fingers fanned out over his muscular thighs and squeezed them, basically half-crawling into his lap to look up at him, asking her questions in a very leisurely and unbothered tone.

“Tired…?” he echoed, his brain in a completely different dimension. “Wuh?”

Her hands glided up his sides and delicately closed in around his waist. He gasped, stiffening as her touch encased him, feeling the action through the fabric of his tank top. She hummed softly, caressing his waist. Slow. Tender. Not a second of rushing even though blood was rushing straight down into his dick at record speed. He felt her gaze on him and shifted his own to her face, seeing her observe him with lovely eyes that contained all the innocence of a kumiho.

So, none at all.

Her smile reappeared, mysterious and sinful.

Her palm grazed over his tense abdomen and he whimpered under his breath. Or so he thought.

“Feeling good?” she asked serenely.

“Y… Yeah…”

Down. Tracing the button of his jeans. His breath caught in his throat. Fingertip by fingertip, in slow motion, tapping lightly on his bulge. Barely any pressure. Solidly tucked between his legs, her ass sticking out. He would be fine with the other side of the view too. This house needed more mirrors, Jungkook concluded.

“Do you remember why you came to me?”

He stopped staring at her ass as the question registered. He was holding his right arm out and his left elbow was resting on the counter. “In the beginning?”

“Mhm.”

She was now cupping his covered erection and pulsing her grip around it, making his cock throb and leak everywhere. Great. His boxer briefs were a cum-filled mess now, surely. He could feel the squish and the stimulation against the tip. Agonizing pleasure.

His cheeks warmed. “Ah… Yeah… because… my previous girlfriends said I f-fucked like a robot…”

“You think maybe you just weren’t that into them?” she questioned, running her fingertips of her other hand along his back and waist, sending tingles up his spine.

“I…” It was impossible to concentrate. “Ah… Well… A-Aren’t you supposed to fall f-for their personality first…?”

“Is that why you’re into me? My personality?”

Jungkook looked down.

Right at her personali-titties.

He swallowed so hard that he almost choked.

Again.

“Hm?” she mused.

Ripped his gaze from the visual of her prominent nipples hanging down next to his open thighs and into that sly stare that knew everything. Gulp. She continued toying with his crotch, stroking along the length, dipping down to pat the outline of his balls, smirking wider as his cock jerked in his pants. The roar of his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Fuck. It was the power in that gaze. The confidence in her stance. The ability to be below him and be completely, utterly in control. The taste of forbidden fruit, just within reach. The sensation of his whole body being overcome with want and the way she gladly overwhelmed all his senses by her presence alone. She didn’t have to touch him at all. She didn’t have to expose herself. She didn’t have to smell so good. She didn’t have to.

She simply chose to do all those things to drive him even more crazy.

“Yes or no?” she purred.

He could lie, but he was a terrible liar.

“Y… Yes…”

She seemed very satisfied with his response. Slid up between his legs, her hand on his back dropping and gliding up against his chest instead. He shivered, his lips parting as she rose, closer, the warmth of her exhale washing over him, a soft sigh and then their faces close, centimeters from each other with his racing heart under her palm. Her fingers spread out. Her index found his silver chain necklace resting on his collarbones, playing with it with a small smile.

Her other hand was still on top of his hard dick.

Jungkook used to think that there was no way sex could be sexy. The idea of it was sexy. In practice, sex used to be awkward and uncomfortable, but essential to get his rocks off. It felt like something he had to do. But it wasn’t like that, at least with her. Well, he still sometimes felt awkward and uncomfortable, but Jungkook suspected she was doing it on purpose. He didn’t mind though, because she always touched him with such fondness and – maybe this was the delulu talking – but he really didn’t need the sex so much as he needed her to keep looking at him the way she did.

His dick throbbed suddenly in protest.

“Ah–!”

She tilted her head and kissed him.

Placing a chaste kiss right below his lips, the soft press taking his breath away, and then her lips ghosted over his, grabbing a fistful of his tank top and kissing him deeply. Fuck, how he loved her lips. How could he describe them? So fluffy and yet so insistent. Determined, seductive, pulling him to her and sighing, her contented breath filling his lungs and giving him life. His left hand found the collar of her shirt and gripped it tightly, not even realizing he had closed his eyes instinctively, wanting nothing more than to melt into her. Her hair brushed against his cheek and neck. Her scent warmed him, sweet and decadent. Her knuckles pressed into his sternum, unyielding. Her fingers tangled into the silver chain around his neck, possessive.

His brain melted into a puddle of bliss.

He moaned her name into her lips as she parted. She squeezed his inner thigh through his loose jeans. Still, the fabric was too thick for it to be satisfying enough.

“W-Wait…”

“You kinda taste like beef,” she remarked, releasing her hold and patting his chest. “Come on. If we fuck in the kitchen, I’ll have more to clean than your dishes.”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn. “O… Oh.”

She backed up a step and took way too long to button a single button to cover her breasts again. He spent a good ten seconds gawking at their perky shape and the way her obvious nipples stuck straight out. She acted as if nothing was wrong, lingering between his spread-open thighs.

“You have to shower quickly, right? Go get started and I’ll come wash your back.”

“But, n-noona–!”

Her hand flew up and landed at the base of his neck. Thumb to one side, four fingers on the other. Jungkook froze.

She cocked an eyebrow.

Then she smirked.

His pulse hammered in his throat, so close to being constricted.

“Are you saying you’re flexible enough to wash your own back now?”

Jungkook shook his head so fast his vision blurred. “Nope. I’m weak. Help. I can’t take off my clothes either. Owie. It hurts so much.”

“Mmmm, very convincing.” She didn’t sound convinced. At all.

Damnnit.

“Gah!”

She gave him an exasperated look. “As if I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Minutes later, Jungkook found himself sitting in the bathtub, puffing his cheeks as he washed his hair with his left hand and felt the bath sponge rub against his back. Ah. She was leaning over the side of the tub, holding onto his left shoulder and rubbing circles into his back. Aaaah. He had left the plastic on his right arm for now, intending to remove the tape as his last step so he could rinse it off with a gentle, unscented cleanser. The water was lukewarm. Not the greatest, but he didn’t want to steam up the bathroom. It would be bad for the tattoos.

“U-Um… noona?”

“Hm?”

She rubbed down to his lower back. He sat up straighter. There was a wet towel blanketed over his crotch. Not really for any reason other than cold. Yeah. Anyway. She leaned over and kept going, massaging him at the same time. He gasped as she pressed the base of her palm into his muscle and kneaded.

“I… uh… about what I said earlier…”

“Mhm.”

He jumped a little but she was just leaning over to grab the detachable showerhead, adjusting the water to the correct temperature. “I hope… I hope I didn’t offend you or anything. I do like your personality a lot. You’re assertive and funny and you always remember stuff I like,” Jungkook rambled, lowering his left hand. His right was slightly hanging off the edge of the tub to keep it out of the way. Of course, he scrubbed his armpits before she came in. It would have been rude not to clean all the important bits first.

She rinsed off his back. “I’m not worried,” she chuckled.

“Oh, okay.”

“I don’t mind that you’re shallow. It’s flattering, coming from a hot guy like you.”

“That’s good – wait, what?!”

She sprayed the top of his head and sent him into sputters.

“Ah!”

She grabbed his shoulder, quickly and vigorously rinsing off his hair before pulling the showerhead away and turning off the water. Not before spraying him in the chest though. Jungkook found himself with his drenched hair flat against his forehead, making him unable to see. He felt like a wet dog. He almost wiggled away – until her arm slid down and rested against his chest, her other hand slipping under his wet hair and pushing it back, laughing playfully as she spoke.

“Oh, Jungkook. You’re so silly. Don’t worry about nothing,” she sighed, petting his head.

He couldn’t say anything.

Mostly because her tits were now pressed against the top of his back.

Oh, fuck. Her large, soft nipples rubbed against his shoulders. And her breasts, ooh, so plushy. “Everyone knows you like my personality.” So bouncy. Mmmm. “Just like how everyone knows you’ve been thirsting after me since day one.” No, it was more like first thirty seconds of seeing her. “Just like how everyone knows you’re a pain slut.”

Her breasts pressed against his shoulders.

Wait.

What did she say?

She plucked the towel away from his crotch and locked her fingers around his package.

“AAH!”

She slapped a hand over his mouth and pinned him to her body, crouching over him. It was then – how could it be only THEN – that Jungkook’s brain fully registered that she was topless. Possibly bottom-less too! Not only was she naked but also she was roughly massaging his balls with his rapidly hardening length trapped between her thumb and index finger, essentially making a cock ring with her two fingers and a ball cage with the rest. He gasped, rolling his head back onto her shoulder, moaning behind her hand as her touch switched between caress and choking his balls. There was no water in the tub as the drain wasn’t pushed down.

Her hand changed from covering his mouth to slipping two fingers into his lips.

“See? You like this,” she whispered, sultry and low.

He tried to gurgle out, n-no way, but he was too busy lifting his hips and thrusting upwards, trying to get the friction he so urgently desired but couldn’t achieve. She dragged her nails across his balls and his eyelids fluttered, sucking on her fingers, spit trickling past his lips and down his chin, his moan echoing in the bathroom when she finally closed her grip around his aching cock, pumping slow, running a fingertip over the head, slicking out the pre-cum leaking out.

“P-Please…” he whined.

“You gotta get out now,” she reminded him.

“No, please…”

She slowly thrust her fingers into his mouth, rubbing his tongue. “You should wait longer, shouldn’t you?” He tried to shake his head but he couldn’t, his hips bucking as her speed increased. “Don’t want you to get sweaty and all that.” Fuck, please, he wanted to scream and nearly did when she let go and lightly smacked around his stiff erection, slapping his cock against his tense inner thighs. It bounced around, the head dark red, aching for release. He was so hard that his cock popped right back into position, sticking straight upwards between his spread legs. “Do you really think you’ve been a good boy?” His own saliva was dripping down his chin. How did she get this level of desperation out of him so easily? She held his shaft up with only the back of her thumb and firmly smacked his balls, rapid and light, making him cry out and squirm. “Hold it up.”

“N-Noona, please…”

“Hold it up if you want me to suck your dick,” she ordered calmly.

The thrill raced up his spine. His hair was dripping, droplets down his cheeks and neck. This was it. This electric, intense feeling that seemed to control him, his hand ghosting down to wrap around his twitching length, gasping sharply when her fingers left his mouth. She cupped his chin instead, tilting his head up and now they were looking at each other, only for a moment, her sparkling eyes rich with passion, intoxicating pleasure snaking up his core as he melted under her hot gaze.

This was the feeling Jungkook always wanted.

She lowered herself down. He stared at the ceiling as she teased his balls, moaning and lazily stroking his cock as she slapped them, dragged her fingernails over them, squeezed them. Spit on him. He whimpered, teasing the underside of the swollen head of his cock, more, flinching as she spat on him again, gasping as she dug her nails into the sensitive area behind his balls, coaxing himself to the edge and then stopping, building the frustration.

She kissed his hot cheek.

“You’re doing so good,” she murmured into his ear, licking it softly.

Her right hand closed around his left and they edged him together, their fingers laced, her teeth on the curve of his ear and his moan radiating off the tiles. Long, deep strokes, building up the speed. So good. Tight, rapid pace, close, his chest rattling, so close, his eyes rolling back when her hand clamped around the base of his aching cock and squeezed hard, cutting off the high and colliding him into the mental wall, his dismayed cry drowned out by her lips devouring his.

Fuck!

Was he going to get to bust a nut or not?!

“Please, don’t.”

He put on his best pout as she held the Magic-8 ball in front of her body. Still wearing her black seamless panties, but that was it. She was lightly sitting on his thighs, straddling him on the bed as she shook it teasingly.

“Noona, come on…”

“Why not? It’ll be fun.”

She lowered it and Jungkook gasped as the black plastic ball touched his chest, wiggling uncomfortably as she rolled it back and forth. Foreign and cold. It warmed up against his skin. She leaned over him, not adding more pressure, but giving a great full-frontal view with her breasts trapped between her upper arms.

“It won’t be fun for me,” he whined, gripping the sheets tightly.

He reached up to squeeze her breasts, using his left hand, shuddering as he felt her hard nipples against his palm, looking up to see her tongue dance at the edge of her smirk, her tousled hair trailing down her shoulder. That had been the game before. He would ask to have sex. She would shake the Magic-8 ball and get his answer – resulting in twenty-six straight refusals from that evil children’s toy. Unlucky? Maybe. Cursed? More likely. Extra cursed because it was Park Jimin who purchased and gifted her the thing.

Grr.

Jungkook was still pissed about that.

She tilted her head, sending part of her face into delicious shadow.

“We can make it a little game.”

His hand slid down her arm and covered hers.

“No games,” he begged, catching the edge of his lower lip with his teeth. Her eyes shifted down. He was playing all his cards. She muttered under her breath, hah, I love that underlip mole of yours, how can I resist a lip bite, fuck, and those cute, round, big brown eyes… all while lowering herself to him, drawn to his plea, releasing her hold on the Magic-8 ball.

She rolled it on his chest and into his open hand.

“Okay. No games.”

She kissed him again.

A claim to his lips. Soft and insistent, working him into a frenzy, making him grip that hard plastic ball tightly as his breathing shallowed, moaning as her tongue slid in, out, in, out. He felt her hands frame his head, crowning him with her fanned-out fingers. Tingling as her thumb rubbed across his temple. His jaw. His earrings, toying with them, nipping at his lower lip and sucking on it, her warm body settling between his legs, soft to hard, rubbing up against him.

Fuck.

Fuuuuck.

She pulled on his hair roughly and his lip slipped from her teeth due his own whimper, gasping hotly as her kisses danced down his throat, then running her tongue over the trail of kisses. She had a hand planted onto his chest to prevent him from arching his back, lapping at his collarbones daintily as she tugged at a fistful of his still damp hair. Sparks of pain showering down from the crown od head meeting the maddening bliss of her lips on his chest, traveling, decorating his clavicle, each mark of her teeth mirroring the redness of a fallen rose petal.

He tried to lower his chin and shuddered against the hurt, making better and worse at the same time, opening his eyes as she let go of his hair, seeing her sliding down his torso.

That ass.

He felt a nip at his nipple and his breathing hitched, snapping down to see her looking up at him, expression highly amused.

“Pretty nice ass, huh?”

No one said she was humble.

He grinned. “Yeah, I should take a pic and make it my phone background.”

She chuckled, running her tongue over his hard nipple and Jungkook shivered, transfixed by the image and the simultaneous surge of pleasure. He lifted his head higher off the pillow. Shallow breaths, watching, the glossy tip of that dexterous pink muscle against his dark nipple, her lips closing around it, feeling his body stiffen as he felt the sucking sensation vibrate through him. The moan bubbled in his tightened chest as she gently bit, licked, sucked, alternating between the actions. Her fingernails dragged over his sides and flexed abs, electrifying his skin with the pressure. He flinched when she released him and replaced the rough play with kisses, moving across his chest to do the same to his other nipple.

She glanced at him, witnessing his perverse enjoyment with a knowing glint in her eye.

He clutched the Magic-8 ball at his side with in his left hand, falling back into the pillow moaning, writhing slightly as the sucking intensified. Her hand slid down, stroking the inside of his thigh. He could barely feel the side of his half-hard cock brush against the back of her hand.

“F-Fuck… please…”

His entire body jolted when she popped her lips off him and sealed her work with a kiss.

“You’re so impatient, Jungkook,” she hummed, pressing her tongue flat to his nipple and rubbing roughly, saliva sticking to his skin. “So needy.”

His mind was spinning. Blood running hot under his skin, body uncontrollably quivering, clutching the sheets and the Magic-8 ball for dear life. The pent-up arousal was driving him insane but, as a wise man once said, gotaa go insane to stay sane. Or something like that. Jungkook couldn’t remember any wise proverbs right now. He was too horny. She was rising, re-clipping her hair with that cute sheep-shaped claw clip, keeping it out of her smirking face.

“Y-Yes, I am needy… a-ah… please…”

Slipping down, down.

She pressed her palms into the innermost part of his thighs, spreading her fingers over his crotch, and swallowed his cock.

He moaned so loud that Min Yoongi surely heard.

Hey.

No one said Jeon Jungkook was subtle.

Especially when being pleasured.

Immediately his cock swelled at her up-and-down motion that came with tongue and lips and a tight, wet, warm throat that pushed him in as deep as possible. He was always somewhat shocked at how easily she maneuvered him without her hands, preferring instead to use only her mouth to take him all the way to the base and lick at his balls, her constricting throat suffocating the thick head of his cock, and then back up, running the sensitive skin over the roof of her mouth and closing her lips around the tip tighter, teasing the underside of the slit with deft flicks. Then, again, swallowing his growing length, molding her tongue to his girth, slathering saliva over his balls.

God, Jungkook loved the bed suck.

She had an immaculate level of control when giving a blowjob on the bed. He didn’t have to do anything but lay back and relax, occasionally looking down to follow her head movements and see his length glistening in between her plush lips, then collapsing again as the erotic euphoria overtook him again, his chest fluttering with the intensity, his core tightening, lost in lust. He completely forgot the itchiness of his right arm. The colors were brighter under the overhead light and the lotion he had applied right before getting into bed, a sharp contrast to her bare arm against his hip, her elegant hand nestled up his side, her perfect round ass in the air. His pants blending into moans, floating on cloud nine from her tight, soft mouth and agile tongue, wondering how the fuck he got this lucky.

She’s basically a porn star in bed, Park Jimin once said.

She paused when she noticed him watching her again. Extended her pink tongue past her lips, slapping his balls and scooping them up against the base of his cock, raising an eyebrow at him.

Damn.

Truer words had never been spoken.

Then – thankfully – she returned her attention to his cock, except this time it was tighter, faster, and he gasped, feeling her push the head up and force it deeper into her throat when she descended, oh, fuck, he could see her breasts bouncing too, those perfect nipples, damn, obvious wet noises drowned out by the more obscene sounds he was making, crying out, moaning, the pace intense and deliberate and racing, and the only way he could describe it was as if somehow her mouth had become a warm, wet sleeve for his twitching cock, powerfully massaging his length all over, close, his eyes rolling back.

There.

He groaned as he shot into her suffocating throat, wanton and pathetic, finally, his mind going blank, pumping thick cum into that tight pocket and whining as she swallowed, fuck, finally, her pinning his flinching hips down as his shuddering length jerked again, another vicious throb and dripping cum, tears stinging the edge of his vision, gasping out her name as the apex of pleasure consumed his nerves and set them alight.

Fucking finally.

He felt his orgasm squish into the back of her tongue and around the aching head of his cock and he moaned. Long and loud and pornographic. He felt himself twitch in her mouth. She brought him down, slow and wet, a low hum vibrating from her throat to his cock to his core.

Jungkook panted.

Tension shimmered throughout his chest and limbs, keeping him breathless.

Wait.

Her tongue rubbed against the underside of his girth, fanning out along the pulsing, abused head, sending racing sparks over his ass and up his spine.

Wait a second.

Her fingertips glided over his slick balls, squeezing them and making him shudder at the shocking bliss.

I’m still hard.

He yelped, snapping his head down, but it was too late, too late to stop, the afterglow of his last orgasm building towards another, her head sliding up and down, her lips flush to his glossy shaft, him whimpering while he watched, shivering at the lewd image and the idea of back-to-back orgasms, so good, fuck, she looks so good and it feels so fucking amazing, the addictive adrenaline spiking, the lasting buzz radiating all over, oversensitivity increasing the forbidden pleasure, tight and wet and soft, taking him as so deep his balls slapped into her chin, the muscles of his body flexed and tense, hard underneath the soft.

His second orgasm slammed into him.

His head fell back and the pleasure swarmed him, knocking the air out of his lungs, drawing out his lustful moan, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. Her name tumbled out of his lips, praises, swears, her name again, the words mixing together on his confused tongue. She swallowed again, loud to his ears, so obvious, and he trembled all over. The sharp spasm of ecstasy left him rattled, whining, feeling her licking him again but tender, even more gentle this time, slurping around his softening cock, the sensitive skin prickling and pulsating under her warm tongue.

“So… fuck… s-so fucking good…”

Oh, how he loved the feeling of her lips and those kisses feathering his thighs, his crotch, his cock, his balls, shivering in delight, all his previous frustrations making it everything so much more satisfying.

Uh.

He didn’t just think that.

Shit.

“Man, you’re loud.”

“Gah!”

“Hey, Yoongi.”

She planted herself on top of his drenched cock, laying out all over him with her hands on his chest and shoulder. Jungkook gawked at her and then at his hyung standing there at her open bedroom door, looking around at the pastel sheep plushies decorating her room and pausing at the pink bunny and tuxedo cat plush sitting on her desk. Then those dark brown orbs moved back to her ass leaning against Jungkook’s still trembling thigh.

“You could have taken off your panties,” he grumbled in his low voice.

She turned her head to look back at Yoongi. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it since I wasn’t going to get any tonight. I didn’t know you would be watching.”

Her words made Jungkook frown. “What do you mean, you aren’t getting any?”

She faced him again, raising her eyebrows. “What are you talking about? We shouldn’t push it. You’ll get too sweaty.”

“But, noona, that’s not fair, I could…?”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“Use you left hand?” Yoongi snorted. “Meh.”

She smiled. “I’ll wait. I can be patient.”

Yeah, well, guess who couldn’t be patient?

As the youngest, he protested. “You could use my thigh. Or… Or my forearm! You like that!”

“No, no. I’m fine with waiting.”

“You’re doing this on purpose! You’re torturing me by not letting me feel you cum!”

Jungkook paled as his hyung and noona grinned at the same time. Deviously. In unison. Scary as fuck. Yoongi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his long black hair framing his cunning eyes and open-mouthed smirk, serving every bit the allegations of being sex on legs. Jungkook trembled as he felt her trail her fingers along the base of his neck, sensually rubbing his collarbone. Thumb on one side, four fingers on the other. Not moving up but reminding him nonetheless.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” she drawled.

They were in cahoots.

Not that Jungkook minded.

That was how he got this lucky in the first place.

The Magic-8 ball rested against his naked hip, the window reading, without a doubt.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 months

Text

junker ~ beck oliver;victorious

word count: 2011

request?: no

description: after her car breaks down in front of the dreamy boy’s house, he helps her to fix it

pairing: beck oliver x female!reader

warnings: swearing, one mention of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

“No,” you said to yourself as your car began to slow. “No, no, no!”

You hit your steering wheel in frustration as the car came to a stop in the middle of the road.

This wasn’t the first time you had encountered issues with your shitty excuse for a car. It was definitely because the car was older than your parents. It was a miracle it even started in the first place, which, to be fair, it didn’t most of the time. You had no idea what your parents were thinking in buying you this hunk of junk to be your first car. They didn’t have to buy you a brand new sports car or anything, but they could’ve gotten you something from this decade at least.

You got out o the car to inspect what had happened. You opened the hood of the car and inspected inside. You couldn’t tell if anything was off because it all just looked the same to you. There was probably something, but you weren't exactly knowledgeable on cars.

You exclaimed in frustration and kicked the wheel, followed by a string of expletives as pain exploded from your toes.

“Car troubles?”

You turned to see a boy around your age stood at the end of a driveway.

“It just stopped,” you said. “I have no idea what’s wrong with it.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you realized how screwed you were. You were a few blocks away from home, so walking wasn’t necessarily off the table, but it would take you a while to get home. Not to mention you had no idea how you’d get the car back to your place, or off the road at all.

“Here, bring it into my driveway,” the boy said. “I’ll take a look at it.”

“How are we gonna get it into your driveway? It’s like...dead dead.”

He approached the car, taking a quick glance at the still open hood before reaching to close it. “Put it in neutral. I’ll push, you can steer.”

You weren’t sure if that sounded like a good idea - one person pushing a car on their own didn’t seem super doable - but you had no other choices. So, you got back into your car, waiting for him to get in place, then shifted the car into neutral. You started turning the wheel, shifting the car towards the driveway. It took a while, but eventually the two of you had managed to get the car into his driveway. You put it back in park as he came around to pop the hood again.

“I’m Beck, by the way,” he said as you got out of your car.

“(Y/N),” you responded. “Thanks for the help. I thought I was screwed.”

“Why are you driving a junker like this? It must be like, a century old.”

“My parents got it for me when I got my license. Something about wanting to get an older car as my first one until I learn responsibility, I guess?”

“So they gave you a rolling death trap?”

You scoffed. “Yeah, basically. I bet they’ll regret that now.”

Beck leaned in to get a better look at something. “When did they buy it?”

You shrugged. “A few weeks ago, I think.”

“Well, they’ll definitely regret however much money they wasted on this thing. It’s completely dead.”

Your eyes widened. “What?!”

Beck stood back up. “There’s not a single thing that works in this thing now. Engine is toast, battery zapped, starting motor gone. It’s a wonder this thing ever worked in the first place.”

You let out a long groan. As if your luck couldn’t get any worse. What were you supposed to do now without a car? You couldn’t go back to relying on your parents to drive you everywhere, and you certainly were not about to start taking the bus to school again.

“Do you have a phone?” Beck asked.

“It’s dead,” you said. “I was on my way home anyways, I thought I’d be fine.”

“Listen, mine is in my RV. You can use it to call your parents if you want.”

You eyed the silver RV in the yard. “You live in there? When there’s...a house?”

He chuckled. “I prefer to be on my own. The RV was the only compromise my parents would come to. If you’d rather not come in, I understand. I can bring my phone out instead if it would make you more comfortable.”

You shook your head. “No, that’s okay. It’s starting to get dark, so it’s probably best if I wait inside instead of out here while it gets cold.”

Beck nodded for you to follow him into his trailer. It was a decent size, big enough for one person living there. It was also evident that a teenage boy lived there given the mess. Beck must’ve noticed, too, because he quickly started picking up dirty clothes and laundry from the floor, mumbling something about ignoring the mess. You quietly giggled to yourself.

Beck passed you his phone. You sat down on his couch and dialed your mom’s number first. It rang for a long time before an automated message told you she was away from the phone. You hung up and tried your dad’s number, only to have the same outcome. You rolled your eyes and hung up, handing the phone back to Beck.

“They must be busy,” you said. “God, this sucks. What am I going to do?”

Beck sat down next to you. He was close enough to you that you could feel his shoulder brushing against yours. You were suddenly very aware of your situation: alone in a trailer with a boy who was incredibly cute. A broke down car, no way to get home until your parents answered your calls. You shuffled awkwardly in your seat, looking down at your lap when looking into Beck’s eyes became too much.

“I could drive you home,” he offered. “Then, when your parents are home, you can tell them what happened and where the car is. Then they can decide if they want to come get it, or they can leave it here and I can salvage whatever parts I can from it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You think there’s anything salvageable from that car?”

“Well...the tires.”

You both laughed. You knew you should be getting home, but part of you also didn’t want to leave yet. Sure, you would still see Beck again whenever your parents decided to come get the car - if they decided to come get the car - but after that you may never see him again. He wasn’t familiar to you, and you were sure you’d remember someone like Beck at your school, so that meant he went to a different school. The likeliness of you two ever crossing paths again were incredibly slim.

But you also couldn’t just invite yourself into his place to stay for a while. You were still a stranger to him, and him to you technically. And you probably should get home so you could charge your phone, just so your parents didn’t start freaking out if they tried to call you and couldn’t get through.

So, you took Beck’s offer and followed him to his car. It was definitely a lot nicer than your old piece of junk. You were almost embarrassed that he had to see what you were driving before. The one silver lining to this whole situation was that your parents might actually buy you a good car after all of this.

You knew it was going to be a short ride to your house, so you had to make the most of it. You looked over at Beck and asked, “So, what school do you go to?”

“Hollywood Arts,” he responded.

“Oh! So that’s why I haven’t seen you around. You’re too busy becoming a big star.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so. Trying to, at least. I’m not a singer like most of the people who attend that school. I’m trying to become an actor after I graduate.”

“Hey, the world needs actors. That doesn’t sound like an impossible dream to achieve.”

He shrugged. You felt like the conversation was drifting away, and you desperately wanted it to keep going.

“I do appreciate what you did for me,” you said. “Most people in LA probably would’ve driven right past me and wished me luck.”

“I couldn’t let you just stay there stranded right in front of my place,” he said. “What kind of a guy would I be if I didn’t offer the pretty girl some help?”

Your face immediately burned at his compliment. You quickly looked away so he wouldn’t see how flustered you were.

“Still, I appreciate it,” you said. “And the ride home. I probably could’ve walked, come to think of it.”

“No way. I wasn’t going to let you walk when I have a perfectly good car that could’ve driven you home.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

He chuckled. You noticed the car slowing to a stop, and when you looked up you saw that you were in front of your house. You almost deflated with disappointment. Your time with Beck was finally, and unfortunately, coming to an end. There was no way you’d be able to see him again, you were sure of that. It was already pretty clear the both of you wouldn’t be running into each other at schooling events, unless you managed to make it out to a performance at Hollywood Arts that Beck just so happened to be starring in.

“This is me,” you said, trying to keep the sadness from your voice.

“So it is,” Beck said with a nod.

You looked down at your lap, trying to stall as much as possible. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know how I can repay you for all of this.”

“You don’t have to.”

“What if I wanted to? I mean, surely there’s something else I could do or give you as a way of saying thanks. Something more than that lump of junk that’s still sat in your driveway.”

He made a face. “No, that’s a terrible thank you gift actually.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying I want to give you an actual thank you gift.”

He thought for a moment and you waited patiently for his answer. Finally, he looked back at you and said, “There is something you could give me.”

“What is it?”

“Your number.”

He was holding his phone out to you. You looked from his phone up to his face. You were almost sure this wasn’t real, that you were hallucinating that this was happening. But the longer it took for you to take Beck’s phone and put your number in it, the more his face was starting to show worry. As if you were about to turn him down.

“Yes!” you finally blurted. “I mean...yeah. Yeah, I can...I can do that.”

He seemed amused by your flusteredness. You quickly took his phone and typed in your name and number before handing it back to him.

“You better get your phone charged,” he said. “Otherwise, how am I supposed to try and plan a date with you?”

Oh, he smooth.

You wanted to say something back that was equally as smooth, but you were at a loss for words. Instead, you just nodded your head for a long time, like a crazy person, before finally saying goodbye for real and getting out of his car. You could feel him watching you as you walked up to your front door and let yourself in. He didn’t leave until the door closed behind you, and even then he waited for you to lock it and turn on the light over the door.

Once you were alone, you leaned back against the door and you couldn’t stop the wide smile that broke out across your face.

Okay, at least there were two silver linings to that stupid thing breaking down.

#beck oliver #beck oliver imagine #beck oliver x reader #avan jogia #avan jogia imagine #avan jogia x reader #victorious #victorious imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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tummybutterflies · 10 months

Text

Repaired Affection Pt. 1

Pairing: Glamrock Bonnie x GN!Reader

Summary: In which reader is tasked in helping to repair the elusive and ever-mysterious Glamrock Bonnie.

A/N: Mostly inspired by RUIN's Glamrock Bonnie! But fanon is also incorporated! Also Tumblr just deleted my entire draft of this so I'm rewriting it again, YAY! A message from the gods to not pick back up on writing, perhaps?

Enjoy!

Bonnie's red eyes flickered to life before you.

They casted a ghostly carmine hue upon the darkened and stuffed Parts and Services room and a twinge of nerves bubbled inside of your chest. You had worked tirelessly repainting, reconstructing, and repairing all of the animatronic's exterior. You sewed his accessories back together which had been ripped to shreds in a questionably strange fashion. You mended, sanded, painted, and sealed each and every plastic casing covering the rabbits endoskeleton. You repainted and, with much struggle, re-stringed and tuned his bass. A few tasks upon many, many others. Copious hours were poured into this project with a hefty paycheck promised at the very end, and frankly, that was your only driving force. Such a task would have turned you away had the money not been completely worth it.

Working in tandem with the software department to repair Bonnie's memories and other internal components that were, honestly, far too confusing for you, you were finally able to bare witness to the grand awakening of the Glamrock Bonnie. The animatronic that had suddenly disappeared without a trace, only to be found in an undisclosed location, completely destroyed.

As to what happened to the poor hunk of metal, it eluded you. Management kept everything tightly under wraps and sealed away from lower-level security clearance employees such as yourself. You were merely employed for cosmetic repairs with your extensive knowledge in many different art mediums. If you were being honest, investigating such a mystery seemed beyond your pay grade, even with the fat check to be given in your name. You knew this company had many secrets, and Bonnie was certainly one of them. You only cared about doing what you were being paid for, and nothing else.

Most of the time, management had you working in secret, in a small, cramped, and cluttered room buried away in Parts and Service. Its small area rendered your job very, very hard. But you persevered, and finally, all those months of work were about to pay off.

The robot bunny, sat upon a metal desk, lay still and completely unmoving before you. The only indicator of his online status being the soft glow from his unblinking eyes. You held your breath. You hoped more than anything this would work, and that all that time spent on this project wouldn't go to waste.

And then he moved. And he moved again.

It looked as if he wasn't used to being in such a body that belonged to him, stretching his limbs and finger joints over and over, testing them, examining them, just to ensure he was truly awake. You were the first and only figure his eyes could drift to. You both were alone, in the tiny, stuffed closet of a room stored deep in Parts and Services you had been working in for what seemed an eternity. His glassy red irises peered deeply into your own, in such a way you don't think you've ever experienced before. It was as if he was searching and reaching deep inside your soul and turning you over again and again, examining every part of you he could.

"Hey, big guy... I've heard a lot about you... How ya feeling?"

Your only solution to the thick tension in the air was to talk him out of whatever internal conflict he seemed to be having. His eyes flicked away from your own and traveled down your body, up and down, and back up again. He took in every detail of you.

It stayed silent for many seconds before his voice box croaked.

"Who're you?"

You forced a polite smile, "Well, Bonnie, I'm a new employee. You've never met me before. But I've been working on you for many months. You got broken. Pretty damn bad. They didn't you'd make it... But look at you now!" You tried to lighten the mood with a failed lilt in your voice. It was evident you were still extremely nervous.

Suddenly, his eyes began scanning you. In a literal sense and not like they had been before. You assumed he was adding you into his databanks.

"(Y/N)... That'sa beautiful name ya got there. Pleasure to meetcha." His hand reached out and grabbed your own, shaking it. It was cool to the touch and had a tenderness you didn't quite expect. The sanding on your part was done quite well, as you weren't expecting his fingers to glide so soft and smoothly against your own.

Was he programmed for charisma? You couldn't help but notice his slight southern twang. How adorable was that? Ah, maybe Fazbear Entertainment knew how to make fun, child-friendly robots afterall.

"So, you're the one who brought be back to all my glory, huh?" His eyebrow quirked.

You nodded, "Mostly. But the software department fixed all your internal issues. I've just been repairing your... uh, outsides..."

The rabbit seemed to smile at this.

"Whatsay I teach ya how to bowl sometime, yeah? I'd love to get to know the pretty darlin' who saved me after all this time. I tend to repay those who do good to me." He winked.

What the hell? Why is your face getting warm and why was his voice so damn smooth?

#security breach x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf x y/n #glamrock bonnie #glamrock bonnie x reader #glamrock bonnie x y/n #security breach ruin x reader #ruin x reader #glamrock x reader #self ship #self ship community #fnafsb x reader #fnaf #fnaf security breach #glamrcok bonnie #security breach ruin

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jacobsbigmelons · 1 month

Note

Jacob has the visceral need of breeding his bf

Creaking Wood

Jacob Custos x Male Reader

IM BACK CHAT (for the most part) expect hopefully more activity from me 😭

cw: Nsfw, slight alcohol consumption, jacob being fine asl, Breeding (obv), and a top bunk holding onto dear life bc it has to hold up two guys going at it…

The crackling of the fire pit, aroma of beer and whistling of the wind set the perfect scene as the summer councilors sat around the fire conversing with one another. Your conversation with Emma came to a close, though as you felt as if someone was watching, lo and behold the hunk of meat who just couldn’t keep his doe eyes off you.

You took a sip of your almost finished Corona as you stare at Jacob back, your face beginning to tingle a bit from the beer but you also can’t help but feel it’s because of your boyfriend. You both stare for what felt like slight eternity until Ryan made a comment.

“Someone’s distracted” Ryan said to your left as he directed his gaze to Jacob than back to you

“Pfft, yeah okay.” You scoffed playfully, rolling your eyes in the process as you got up as you finished off your drink, crushing it up making sure to dispose of it properly. “I’m gonna go charge my phone inside i’ll be back though!” you explained to the group as you began to walk backwards, hands up, phone in one of them.

“Ay wait lemme come with!” Jacob yelled out, not even paying attention to Abby’s warnings to be safe on the walk…or maybe that was the alcohol. He walked over as you finally turned around walking correctly, giving a slight wave to the people still around the fire.

The stairs up to the cabin you and him shared creaked with each step you guys took, the darkness not helping with illuminating expect for the occasional lamp and or phone flashlight

“So w..what made you wanna come with?” You questioned, voice barely slurred.

“I mean if you want me to turn back I can~” Jacob playfully teased as a Tsk left your mouth and Jacob began to laugh

“Dumbass you know that’s not what I mean” Though a smile couldn’t help but come through before Jacob wrapped a hand around your waist, the floors creaking as you two walked inside. Soon closing the door as he pulled you a little closer to him, your walking paused as you allowed him to just hug you for a bit. The buzz of alcohol rushed across your face in the moment, even sober you know Jacob wanted to be around or in some way holding you so a buzzed Jacob is definitely gonna be clingy.

“So how long does it take for your phone to charge?” He questioned though the tone sounded a little suggestive, you took the time to go and climb your bunk as Jacob followed behind. “It’ll take a bit for it to charge, a good bit honestly so…do with that what you will” You said as you watched your boyfriend join you on the top bunk, his arm going around you as the silence fills the air for a second.

“Their tipsy~ they won’t check on us” Jacob said in an almost mischievous tone, his arm around you slowly moving to your face to move your lips towards his, though for someone with little brains he at least knew how to be a good kisser. It didn’t take long after that for Jacob to end up giving your bunk a run for its money. Jacob’s hand had your mouth covered as you felt his other hand keeping your back arched while he fucked you into the mattress.

“Fuckk babe you feel so good~” He moaned a bit as he got close to speak into your ear, looking back he’s even wearing his backwards hat which somehow just made the whole scene better even if you couldn’t fully see your boyfriend in what little moonlight there was.

All you could do was make muffled noises as you felt him go in and out, still making sure he’s got a good hold of you but now his hands moved down to hold you by the lower back as he made sure he made it all the way inside of you by going fast and pulling out until he begins to keep thrusting. “Shit i’m close-“ Jacob said almost like he was wincing, as if he didn’t want to finish yet.

You began to push yourself back into him as you gripped the bedsheets, being just as close, you needed that last bit of effort to bring you and Jacob to the edge. The fast thrusting soon coming to an end as you felt his cum slowly dripping as he pulled out, breaths heaving as the dopamine begins to pass until you ask a question both of you need to figure out

“How do we clean this up-“ D:

#jacob custos #the quarry #the quarry jacob #jacob custos x reader #jacob custos my fucking beloved #jacob custos x male reader #the quarry jacob custos #x male reader

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the-californicationist · 4 months

Note

What if Price got migraines, so he came to your piercing shop to get a Daith put in to help (because he hates taking meds). But then, he decides to get more done....

"Sweet Relief" (AO3 Link)

The shop had been quiet all winter. It started with No Ink November, an inside joke you and your business partners laughed about every year. Money was tight, that was for sure, and no amount of Instagram deals or tell-a-friend coupons were going to dig you out. So, you’d been practicing with your piercing skills. Your shop had plenty of tattooists, and one girl was even a specialist in scarification, but no one did piercings. You decided to work hard and fill a niche.

It was a cold January morning, and you rolled into the shop around noon, setting up your station for your three o’clock appointment, a daith piercing. The guy had booked online with some generic disciple name like Mark or Luke or something. You checked the sheet.

“John…”

Based on his questionnaire, it was his first piercing, but he’d been tattooed by your shop partner, Caitlyn.

“Hey, Cait!” You called into the back of the shop.

She shouted back,

“Sup?”

“You know a John Price?”

She poked her head around the door and came over to your station,

“Sure do. He’s a total hunk. Some army guy. Comes in about two or three times a year for work. Is he cheating on me?” She laughed, ribbing you.

“He wants a daith,” you showed her the sheet.

“Huh,” she shrugged, “Cool. Enjoy it, babe.”

Winking and laughing to herself, Cait ducked back into her station and you waited for the man to show up.

Then, like he had been summoned, the shop’s door bell tinkled and an enormous, bearded man stepped through. He was in casual clothes, and he wore a wool beanie to keep out the cold. He looked around the space calmly, giving a polite nod and a wave to Cait. When his eyes found you, he smiled,

“Hey.”

Goddamn if his voice wasn’t like a warm fire on a snow day. It rumbled, low and deep through the room, hitting you right in your chest, surprising you.

“Hey!” You recovered, “You must be John. Come around.”

“Yeah,” he made his way over to you and sat in your chair, “I’m here for the daith piercing.”

“Gotcha. I’m all ready for you. I’ll clean the site, mark it, and I’ll show it to you before we commit.”

You got to work, studying his face as you worked. There were little scars here and there, and a big one near his temple, ragged and rough. You rubbed cleanser on his ear and asked him,

“So, why this one? You get headaches?”

“Sure do. Don’t always have meds out in the field, so I needed something a bit more permanent.”

You gave him a curious look,

“The field?”

“Army. Special Forces. That’s where I got this beauty you were admirin’.” He thumbed the large scar on his brow.

You blushed a bit. He sure was observant.

“Ouch,” you said, “I promise this won’t hurt half as bad. Here, have a look.”

You held up the mirror to let him see the mark you’d made. He shrugged,

“You know best, love. I trust you.”

His words stirred something in your belly. You liked the pet name, and his ease with trusting you went right to your head.

“Alright, hold still, John. You wanna count?”

“No,” he smiled and turned his eyes on you, watching you work on him.

You shoved the needle into his skin and watched his eyes close as the pain washed over him. He took it in stride, smiling when you finished with the hard part. He opened them again to watch you, and he almost seemed to look at you with some level of desire. So, you tried out a pet name of your own.

“There you go, handsome. All set.”

“Cait should’ve warned me. Had no idea my pain would come at the hands of such a pretty artist.”

“Careful, soldier. Gonna get yourself a tongue ring on the house if you keep buttering me up like that,” you showed him the barbell you’d installed, and he took a cursory glance at it.

“Maybe that’ll be my next one. I heard they work wonders.”

“On migraines?” You laughed, confused by his tone.

“No,” he leaned forward, putting himself in your space, “On pretty artists.”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you

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tfgalore · 7 months

Text

Test Of Time

“One…two…three…four….” I grunted as I struggled to lift the plate loaded bar. I set it back down, panting as I sat up, annoyed at myself. The last few weeks, and even months, I’d been getting weaker. Thanks to my aging body, I was getting weaker, it was harder to build muscle in the gym, and even people were coming up to me, telling me I looked tired or pointing out slowly graying hairs. I sighed, knowing that my 60’s was something I’d have to deal with eventually. I was suddenly snapped out of my thoughts by a excited whoop from my left. I turned to look, seeing a younger guy benching almost thrice my weight. His muscles were bulging, and he had a grin on his face. He was clearly in the prime of his youth, which made me jealous. If only there was a way to get back my youth…

That thought was the beginning of my obsession with witchcraft. At first, I just looked for ways to turn back the hands of time, to get my body back to its 20’s but I came up with nothing. Just as I was about to give up, I came across a possession spell. An idea clicked in my mind as memories of the hunk from the gym flashed in my mind. A grin spread across my face, as I delved into more research about it.

A week later, I was back at the gym, prepared to take my new life. I wiped my sweaty palms on my sweatpants, gulping as beads of sweat dripped down my face, a nervous expression plastered on. I had no clue if this was actually going to work, but I had to try. As the hunk, who’s name is learned was Sam, walked by, I quickly grabbed him by the wrist. He locked eyes with me, in confusion as he tried to pull away, but I started to mutter the spell, and our worlds seemed to spin.

I could feel my body changing. My wrinkled skin started to tighten, and glow with renewed youth as his started to crinkle slightly like creased paper. My muscles started to inflate and bulge, newfound strength flowing through them as the same happened to my legs and calves. I grinned as I looked down to see I now had muscular and toned thighs just like Sam had before. Our faces started to shift and warp. Sam was panicking. He clearly had no idea what was happening, other than the fact that he was getting weaker and weaker. I stared back up, only to come face to face with my previous self. It was like looking into a mirror, except now, I looked exactly like Sam had before.

I pulled away from the other, grinning. A quick look in the nearby mirror had me smiling from ear to ear as I flexed my bicep and rolled my abs. The control I had over each muscle was amazing. “Holy shit…it worked!” I grinned. Meanwhile, Sam was having a breakdown. He grabbed me, trying to force me to undo whatever curse I’d just done. A slight altercation and a phone call to the police later, Sam was getting dragged out by security guards, cursing and screaming that I’d stolen his body. Everyone assumed he was crazy, a man going senile after the stress of work and age had finally caught up to him.

Ever since then, living as Sam has been such a blast. Everyone was surprised when I came out as gay, but now I’ve got plenty of guys lining up at my door just to be fucked or fuck me. Sam has a huge trust fund too, but instead of dipping into that, I decided to start up an OnlyFans. Something about having guys pay to watch me jerk off or have sex just turns me on beyond anything, and I make some good money from it. I wonder if the old Sam is subscribed too. I’ve even graduated from college now. The old Sam wasn’t doing too well, but with my previous knowledge, I’ve managed to turn that around, graduating as one of the top students. Life really couldn’t get any better…and the best part, I never have to worry about getting old again. All o have to do is find another hunk when the time comes.

#gay #male body swap #body swap #gay body swap

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fredwkong · 3 months

Note

Man, all of these finals just before Christmas are the worst! It makes me wonder what life would have been like if I dropped out of highschool? I wish I never went to uni, and had found another way to make money!

Unfortunately, there was some problem with the wishing system, but the genies are on the case just in time for midterms ;)

You stumble into your faculty adviser meeting, and a genie in a beanie and a tank top smirks up at you. You could have sworn your adviser looked more…buttoned-up, the last time you saw him. “Bro,” he drawls, “what’s with the threads?”

You open your mouth to protest. This isn’t your adviser, and you take pride in your button-ups and slacks! “Eh, y’know, bro,” you say, the words slurred and raspy, “just rolled out of bed.”

“That hole’s perfect, bro,” says the genie, gesturing to your armpit. “I can smell you from here.” He takes a sniff and bites his lip, fondling his crotch in his sweats.

You’re horrified, but when you look down, you see a threadbare T-shirt, a massive hole worn in the armpit with your thick pit hair spilling out. Suddenly, you’re a thick-chested tan hunk, dressed like a total bro!

But…isn’t that you? You remember dropping out of high school, instead of graduating with honours. You just wanted to chill out and get swole. Sure, you’ve never read any Freud, but you’re pretty sure you have a handle on anal retention from all the dicks you’ve ridden to make weed money.

Yeah, you remember now. College kids pay big bucks to have a dumb, musky dropout come take their loads, and you’re happy to oblige. You can’t really do the math, but you’re pretty sure being a slut makes you more money than any of these eggheads.

You raise your arms behind your head to show off your sweaty pit to your next client, who’s already pulled his cock out of his pants. “Wassup, bro,” you grunt, flexing.

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

#male transformation #mental change #answered ask #male tf #muscle tf #reality change #dumber tf #musk tf #all fwkong

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anystalker707 · 8 months

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i could be your puppet

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender neutral] Reader Kinktober prompt: Objectifying/Using Tags: Oral / semi-public / Cums easily, poor boy !!!

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

Zoro wasn’t aware of it when it started, only flustered and thinking he was imagining things whenever you did something, his face burnt hot as he looked away. When it clicked, things started taking a different turn, however. All the touches that he presumed to be innocent actually carried more behind them, and he didn’t really know how to act. It took over Zoro’s thoughts at night, taking away his sleep, as he bit on the collar of his shirt and tried his best to keep quiet while fisting his cock.

The two of you had hooked up a few times before, shared a bed during drunk party nights or when the crew had to stay at inns on the islands, so there was a closeness, but he thought that closeness was resumed to closed rooms and special occasions.

Zoro swallowed audibly, throat dry as you sat next to him at the dining table. Everyone was playing cards—he’d been invited to join, bribed by the sake, so he didn’t make the minimal effort against being the first one to lose just so that he could sit there enjoying the sake. That’d been until you sat there, of course. He didn’t think he could even sip the sake now.

“Usopp, you do not have an ace of cups, you fat ass liar!” You said to Usopp, making him gasp from across the table.

“How dare you doubt the great Captain Go D. Usopp?” And he started rambling immediately, saying he was the master at playing cards, with over 20 years of experience in each game. Yeah, the usual bullshit.

The table started to get more agitated once you placed your cards over the table. Zoro didn’t know what the cards were, aside from the fact the ace of cups was in fact with you. Honestly, he couldn’t think about anything while your hand held onto his thigh under the table like that. You gave it a squeeze while your voice grew a little louder at the attempt to talk over Luffy and Usopp altogether.

All that talk was just nonsense in the back of his mind, given the way your hand rested so close to his crotch like that. Your fingers soothed over the area, rubbing it and sometimes slipping towards his inner thigh. Meanwhile, you talked with everyone else as if nothing was happening. He wished he could curse you, standing up and leave, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to stop.

Zoro wouldn’t admit it openly—at least not so easily—, but he enjoyed that. He liked being yours to use whenever you felt like it, barely putting affection in your affections because you just wanted his body, eyeing him as if he were a large hunk of meat. It was pathetic, to be true, but maybe that’s what made it all even better.

“Guys!” Nami said as she walked back into the kitchen. “I fixed everything already. I even got someone to watch the ship, so no one needs to stay back. So, here are your lists and your share of money…” She handed off strips of paper along with some berries bills; yours just had some utility stuff for the ship, and peeking over, you could see that Zoro had some things in the same genre. “We are staying for the night, and the port is near the city, so we don’t have to worry about inns or anything.”

“What about me?” Luffy asked with a grin, eyeing from the list and money to Nami in an encouraging manner.

She narrowed her eyes. “You go with Usopp. Also, who’s—”

“I’ll babysit Zoro,” you said immediately. “We can’t afford to lose another day looking all over the island for him again.”

Zoro clicked his tongue immediately as the others muttered in agreement—he just cursed under his breath as he pretended to pay attention to the last orientations between the crew before you guys got ready to leave.

Zoro was carrying all the stuff, of course. You just had a bag in hand, but it contained some different food you’d seen in a bakery earlier, so it didn’t count for anything other than making up the excuse you were helping Zoro. He just walked behind you, guaranteeing he was following you—he didn’t want to get lost and be away from you, not in one of the few alone moments he had with you.

“You know what we could use?” You cut through his thoughts, looking over your shoulder, making his gaze immediately shift from your ass to your face. “I mean, what I could use. I saw some clothing stores around here, and since we finished everything early, we should go there. I’m not leaving you alone nor going back just to leave you at the ship.”

“No, it’s okay,” Zoro said, trying not to sound too interested, looking away for a second.

You looked at Zoro for a moment, then smiled a little bit. Something about it made Zoro imagine you calling him a good boy; he quickly averted his gaze again, just following you to a clothing store.

The store was practically empty; a few workers were helping some other customers, but it wasn’t anything that crowded the place, leaving many areas monotonous and boring. A sales clerk had offered to help you around, only to be quickly dismissed.

You were gone for a while, leaving Zoro to sit near the changing rooms area with the bags by his feet and arms crossed over his chest. He knew you’d tried on a lot of clothes, but you’d only asked his opinion on a couple of ones—he tried not to stare when the clothes hugged your frame a little too perfectly, stretching the fabric across it in ways that left little room for imagination. On the other hand, he also saw you slip some pieces of clothing in the bags you guys already had. Did Nami give you some tips or something? Damn it.

After disappearing for a while, you came back with some shirts and pants. Zoro raised an eyebrow when you stood beside him instead of disappearing inside the changing room again.

“Try these on,” you said, and it didn’t sound like you were asking or suggesting something. “You basically only have a change of clothes, aside from the few others we got at Kaya’s. You need something new.”

Zoro wanted to argue, but you were his weak spot, shamefully. He sighed as he looked at the clothes. “Do we have money for that?”

“That’s between Nami and I,” you said simply, shoving the clothes into his arms. “Oh, and don’t forget to let me see how you look in those. I have a feeling you don’t even know how to shop for clothes.”

With a nod, Zoro finally brought himself up to his feet and walked into the changing room. He wasn’t used to it, so it felt very off. He made a face when seeing himself in the mirror and turned away from it while undressing and putting on the clothes you’d handed him, trying on the shirt and pants that’d attracted his attention the most.

When he tried adjusting the clothes on himself, his breath hitched in his throat. Was this on purpose? Were you doing that with him again? He couldn’t believe it… but he wasn’t all against it either. He had to take a couple of deep breaths before he finally left the dressing you.

You sat there, arm folded on the back of the seat, while your temple rested against your hand. Little interest was in your eyes when you looked him up and down—he gulped, not knowing whether he should look right back at you or avoid your gaze.

Zoro knew exactly where your eyes lingered. The shirt and the pants were probably a size down, so it made the buttons hold on for their dear life while the shirt hugged around his pecs, giving out their shape perfectly. The pants, on the other hand, made Zoro put some extra effort into not getting too excited.

“Try on the light jeans,” you told him, waving a hand in dismissal, and of course, he did as told.

The new pair of pants had you making a hand motion for Zoro to turn around. He did so slowly, letting you gaze at his ass as much as you wanted until he turned to the front again. Your eyes were on the bulge on his crotch and then on his thighs, taking in how thick they looked in those pants. The pants' waistline was also low, showing his happy trail and the v lines. Soon, you were eyeing his chest again. He kept taking mental notes of your favorite spots, though he already knew many of them.

You kept eyeing Zoro as if he were some eye candy, some juicy hunk of meat, and you were starving; you kept making him try on different clothes, none of which he’d take home, just for your own pleasure. He wished it’d bother him, but it was too good to argue with.

“Black shirt,” you’d suggested next.

Once Zoro slipped it in, however, he found a problem. He cleared his throat as he opened the changing room’s door just enough to peek outside. “...It won’t close.”

“Won’t close?” You raised an eyebrow. “It’s the same size as the others, it does close!”

“You see—” He cut himself off with a sigh once he saw you stand up and step closer. You got in the tight changing room with him, closing the door behind the two of you. The shirt was buttoned until halfway up his abdomen, and the buttons were already strained. “You see…” Zoro’s body was hot just from that, but he tried to keep himself calm.

You raised your eyebrows, eyes right on his chest. His pecs were a little pressed by the shirt in a way they stood out a little, and he wished the tension wouldn’t make his nipples hard like that. “That sucks,” you said, trying to tug the shirt closed, unsuccessfully. It made his pecs jiggle a little, at least. “This was one of my favorites.”

Maybe it still was. Your breath was hot on Zoro’s skin as you pressed a kiss right between his pecs. He gasped, stepping back until he met the wall as he felt you squeeze his pecs around your face and then give one of them a bite. If the pants were uncomfortable, they were turning insufferable by now.

“I woke up today looking forward to this, y’know?” You whispered, eyes meeting his. “It’s been a while since I last had some fun with you, and I thought being on an island like this would be the perfect opportunity.” You didn’t even want an answer, just mouthing at his chest again while pulling him closer by hooking your fingers around the belt loops of the pants.

Zoro gasped, whimpering as he kept his upper back pressed to the wall.

“I think I’ll actually get you one pair of pants like this,” you whispered, breath hot over his skin. You lowered yourself to your knees, unbuttoning the pants. “Just so you can wear them for me, y’know? Let me see how pathetic you struggle to fit in them. It’d also be nice to see you cum in those…” Your words trailed off while you lowered the pants a bit with some struggle, having them just enough down his thighs.

You mouthed Zoro through his boxers at first, helping him grow completely hard so that you could finally lower his piece of clothing—the way you let the waistband run against his cock agonizingly slow had him hissing, pressing back against the wall again. His knees became weak for you shamefully easily.

There weren’t any words while you wrapped your hand around his thick and hot cock, giving it a few pumps, but he didn’t think that you needed to talk with a toy, anyway. A gasp came from Zoro when he finally felt your tongue against his cock. It gave his tip kitten licks, wiping away the pre-cum before you were finally taking him in your mouth.

You had no mercy, of course, hollowing your cheeks around Zoro right after moving your head a couple of times. The pause you took from it was for yourself, to prevent your cheeks and jaw from hurting, and not because it was bringing Zoro close way too fast. Whenever you touched a sensitive spot of his, it was by coincidence due to the motion you did, not because you wanted to exploit his weak spots. You were cruel, fuck.

He had to bite his fist to prevent any sound from escaping his lips. His cock was being held up by your hand as the free one gripped on his thigh; you licked along the underside of his cock, from the balls to the head, tracing the veins. It felt heavenly. His breath was all uneven, all broken and permeated by whimpers, with the way he had to keep his sounds to himself. Why did you have to do it to him right there?

Your hands fondled Zoro’s balls, also giving him attention as you sucked on his fat, flushed tip. He couldn’t handle it, no, no, no. His cock was back in your mouth, your cheeks hollowed around it, and Zoro could barely think before he was cumming already. He was fucking ashamed—such a big, tough guy cumming so easily to a sloppy in a changing room, but at this point, he was just your toy, right? He couldn’t argue against that.

You kept sucking even though he’d already come, not changing the intensity in the smallest bit, just milking him until you were satisfied.

“Yeah,” you breathed, licking your lips as you pulled away. “I’m taking those pants and also the shirt.”

There weren’t a lot of words shared before you were up on your feet again, eyeing Zoro up and down, and you left the changing room.

You’d been the one to pay for everything, for your clothes and also his—surprisingly, you’d gotten some clothes that actually fit him. Zoro felt all flustered, unable to talk for a long while after he left the changing room in the clothes he’d been wearing in the first place. His legs felt so weak as he trailed after you.

“What do you want to eat, hm? Want to go to any bar?” You looked at Zoro as the two of you walked. “I’m paying you something for being such a good boy for me.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #one piece live action #opla #roronoa zoro #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #zoro x reader #oneshot #imagine #fan fic #fan fiction #kinktober

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transforming · 10 months

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Dane's Unexpected Vacation

Here's a little something I put together, as a commission for @tf-lover, who's been such an amazing friend of mine in the TF community, with a shoutout to his amazing work and his collaborations with @mrwavellswaps! Enjoy!

-----

It had been a particularly long week for Dane De Bruin.

It was nearly a year ago when his life changed forever, from being a skinny young teacher who was tired of his life and having to deal with annoying teenagers, to a bona fide magical hunk, and now having a boyfriend in the form of the marvelous Mr Wavell. That was a whirlwind, magic carpet ride of a journey all on its own, not only becoming such a stud but also discovering he probably had powers of his own. Dane worked and trained with Mr Wavell, in the real world and in their home in the pocket dimension, to figure out what magic he has deep within him, as he channeled Wavell’s powers to help others find true happiness and fulfill their hidden desires.

He knew that loads of guys had a kink for soft, squishy pecs like his, and as much as he could make money appear from the snap of his fingers, he also thought about the thousands of pounds he could earn just from showing off his man-tits. That said, he began venturing into social media, posting at least once a week on Instagram for thirsty fans who’d be willing to pay him anything to support him, and even send him cute drawings that would especially highlight his knockers. It got a kick out of him, and in a way, he was helping people feel satisfied and fulfilled, and he was feeling great about that.

On top of all that, most recently he had been helping out Mr Wavell collect testimonials on the Homo Bomb he had dropped on the town of Bellmare, dividing up their research across the town’s residents. It was quite fascinating to see how the magical bomb changed the townspeople, varying from the simple change of straight men turning gay, already gay men turning into their fantasies or crushes, to the rare anomalies of women becoming men. The beach town was definitely a notable case study for the books, and it was worth examining on how happy people could be with the help of sudden magic being dropped upon them, all thanks to his boyfriend.

-----

However, in the past few days, Dane started to notice that he was getting quite tired, and it threw off everything he had been doing. He felt less motivated to go to the gym, and without a nice enough pump to show off, he delayed posting anything new on Instagram. Even channeling Wavell’s magic for his own use has been more strenuous than normal, and with Wavell busy collecting his side of testimonies from Bellmare, they haven’t had much time to themselves: whether it was to have a bit of fun in the bedroom, to work on strengthening Dane’s magical abilities, or simply to have lunch together. It was similar to the draining feeling he experienced long before when he was a teacher, dealing with these pesky kids who didn’t listen to him, or dealing with an admin that ignored his needs for support in the classroom – except that he was drained from everything that he enjoyed doing as Dane.

As much as he hated to admit it, Dane knew he was being stretched thin, and that he was on the verge of majorly burning out. He was in desperate need of a break. One day, when he finally mustered up enough courage, he eventually sat down with his boyfriend.

“Wavell, babe, I need to talk to you,” Dane said, looking forlorn and exhausted.

Wavell walked over from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine in his hand, handing one to his lover. “What is it, Dane?” he asked as they both sat down.

Dane sighed. “It’s been so amazing spending time with and falling in love with you babe. I’ve loved every moment we’ve spent together, and honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. The magic, our relationship and getting to channel your magic, the sex…” Dane chuckled a bit. “Even this Homo Bomb has been crazy interesting to observe.”

Wavell smiled and wrapped his arm around Dane’s waist as he took a sip of his pinot. “And I love you so much, baby. I still can’t believe you’re my boyfriend after all this time. How long has it been? What, nearly ten months since I made you into Dane?”

“Yeah, just about.” Dane smiled, as he took a sip of his wine. “I love you too, babe. Like I said, everything we’ve done together has made me feel so much happier, and life feels so worthwhile with you…” Dane paused, hesitating for a moment, but enough for Wavell to notice.

“I can sense a ‘but’ coming in,” Wavell said, kissing Dane’s cheek. “Dane, don’t worry, you know you can always tell me anything.”

Dane sighed once more, as he slumped his shoulders and finished his glass of wine in one gulp. “I can’t exactly pinpoint why, but I’m just feeling really drained. I’ve noticed it in the little things. Not feeling enough hype to work out, I don’t feel as strong as I know I could be after all our training and after using your powers, and in general I just feel a bit tired.”

Wavell looked down, thinking about it for a moment. In his experience, he knew that magic was enough to keep one energetic and dynamic, but he’d also heard enough stories of other warlocks and possessors of magic to know that not getting enough rest and relaxation could completely destroy their magic and revert them back to what they used to be, or even worse, drain them out of existence. A few of his own friends had disappeared in the past. He pulled Dane close, kissed him softly, and let him rest his head on his lap,

“You definitely need some R&R, Dane,” Wavell replied, smiling sweetly as he caressed Dane’s hair. “Your powers are still relatively new, and I don’t want to see you completely drained out when you’re still growing them to their full potential.”

Dane felt tears well up in his eyes, and after a deep breath, he felt them stream down his cheeks. “I know, babe. I just… I didn’t wanna let you down.” Dane sniffled, while Wavell rubbed his V-tapered back, comforting him.

“You’ll never let me down, babe. Never. But you shouldn’t ever be ashamed to tell me you’re tired, or to ask for a break when you need one.” Wavell wiped the tears from Dane’s cheeks, as he ran his hand down Dane’s arm to calm him.

Wavell smirked as he lifted Dane’s head off his lap and embraced him. “You deserve this break. And luckily, I know just the guy to help you out.”

Dane raised an eyebrow. “Who is this guy?”

Wavell chuckled. “His name’s Drew, and he runs this new resort where magicians like us can go to relax. It’s a new venture he’s exploring, an idea that came to him when he was taking a break of his own after running Transformation College years ago.”

Dane’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘The guy who created Transformation College is back?’, he thought. “I thought he’d disappeared long ago. He’s around again?”

Wavell nodded. “Yep, he’s back, and he’s hoping, since he’s running a resort, he can take it a bit easier than last time. The college really burnt him out,” he chuckled, “but I think Drew’s Transformational Resort could benefit you. Plus, knowing him well, he’ll cover all your expenses.”

Dane smiled, and kissed his lover with a renewed passion. “I fucking love you Wavell.”

“And I love you more, Dane. You deserve a break, and don’t worry about the Homo Bomb testimonies, I can cover that. For now, all you need to do is relax, yeah?” Wavell smiled brightly. The couple got up and headed towards the front door. Holding hands, they stepped out of the house and towards a little tropical hut with a bamboo door on the eastern end of Wavell’s pocket dimension. “Here we are. Just straight through that door and you’ll be at the resort.”

As he held the doorknob, Dane looked into Wavell’s eyes one last time and held his hand. “I’m gonna miss you. I wish you could come with me,” his voice quivered as he said that to his lover.

“I’m gonna miss you too, babe. But I know if I’m gonna be there, you might not be able to recuperate fully, considering we still don’t know what your magical powers are, if you have any. Plus, I don’t know if we’d even be able to relax at all with how much sex we’d have,” Wavell chuckled. He squeezed Dane’s hand once more, kissing him softly, before Dane opened the door and entered through.

-----

Once he was fully through, he was quickly blinded by a bright white light. Dane closed his eyes tightly, then when he opened them again, he found himself on the shore of a pristine white beach, on a secluded island completely surrounded by miles and miles of ocean. He could feel the water wade between toes, and the sand stick to his soles, as he looked around, the door to Wavell’s dimension nowhere to be seen. He then noticed that he was shirtless and just wearing a pair of beach shorts, which surprised him. “Woah, this is trippy,” he muttered to himself as he walked off the beach onto the grass further in, seeing a collection of small beachside villas, two larger buildings, and what appeared to be a lobby, where a young, shirtless and handsome stud stood behind a desk, holding a small flower in hand.

Dane walked over to the desk, but before he could speak, the young hunk turned and smiled. “Dane De Bruin?” he asked.

Dane stepped back. “H-how did you know?”

The handsome stud, who looked around college age, smirked. “Wavell told me everything before you arrived.” Dane chuckled, Wavell was always one step ahead of him. “I’m Drew, by the way,” the himbo-looking stud said, reaching out his hand for Dane to shake.

Dane reciprocated the handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Drew. Did Wavell already tell you why I’m here?” he replied. Drew simply nodded, and quickly turned around to grab a passion fruit tequila welcome cocktail for Dane, handing it to him.

“We offer a lot of services, but our main purpose here at Drew’s Transformational Resort is magical rejuvenation, helping magicians such as yourself regain control over your powers, and come back feeling relaxed and reborn,” Drew smirked naughtily as he spoke. Luckily, Dane didn’t notice. Drew led Dane down a small, rustic path through the resort, passing by the restaurant and then the spa, all of it looked amazing and luxurious. They stopped at a villa, and Drew opened the door. It was a simple space, but a beautiful one too: a king-sized bed with an extremely soft coconut mattress that felt like sleeping on a cloud; an outdoor shower surrounded by a wall filled with orchid vines; a door that led to the back porch, which had its own swimming pool and jacuzzi; and further out, Dane’s own little cove, which was surrounded by coconut palms and hibiscus trees. It was all spectacularly beautiful.

“Wow,” Dane said, blown away by it all.

“I really worked hard on curating unique experiences for all my guests,” Drew replied, smiling as Dane walked around his villa and took it all in. “And first on the agenda for your Ultimate Relaxation and Rejuvenation package is a whole spa day.”

Dane turned and beamed at Drew. “Lead the way then Drew. I’m so excited for this.”

Drew smiled back and handed Dane his key card for the villa, before he led the way back up the path to the spa. As he looked around, Dane noticed a staff member at the hotel that looked like Drew. Then another one that drove a buggy. And then another at the front desk of the spa. The Drew working at the spa chuckled. “Yep, this whole resort is run by me.”

Dane laughed, impressed. “That’s amazing. So you could basically clone yourself?”

Spa-Drew nodded as he took things from Reception-Drew, leading Dane into a massage room. Dane quickly stripped out of his beach shorts and hopped onto the massage bed, while Spa-Drew placed a pair of AirPods into his ears, which began to play calming jazz music, canceling out all the noise and letting Dane doze off to sleep as Spa-Drew got to work. Once he knew that Dane was completely asleep, thanks to the binaural beats he added to keep Dane asleep in a deep trance, Drew took out a magical kit of essential oils, ointments, scrubs and tools. He smirked, and opened the bottle of plumeria essential oil.

Rubbing some between his hands, Drew began massaging Dane, kneading his back muscles and defining them even more till they were shredded. Reaching his shoulders, Drew built up Dane’s traps, and broadened his shoulders just a bit, his hands defining Dane’s delts, then worked his way down his arms and sculpting them like clay, defining them even further till they looked more youthful and strong. As Drew rubbed the oil all over Dane through the massage, a golden sun-kissed tan began to seep across Dane’s body, washing out his pale white skin until it looked like he spent a lot of time at the beach, and all his body hair receded, leaving him smooth and supple like a baby.

Drew smirked as he peeled off the towel that covered Dane’s ass. Lathering his cheeks up with more oil, he massaged them and rounded them up till they were bubbly yet firm with muscle. Finishing up the backside, Drew knuckled down on Dane’s thighs, shaping them till they were like well-defined tree trunks, and softly pressed on his calves till they gained a more aesthetic diamond shape. Upon reaching his feet, Drew squeezed every part –stretching Dane’s toes, knuckling his soles and pressing his ankles, till Dane’s feet shrunk by just a bit to accommodate his now slightly shorter stature.

Drew took a good look at Dane’s backside before turning him over, lifting Dane up with ease as if he were a paper doll. Once Dane was fully turned around, Drew chuckled as he continued pouring more oil all over Dane’s body. Fondling Dane’s pecs, Drew squeezed the soft, supple man-tits till the hairs receded and the pecs were more sculpted and firm with muscle, then worked down on his abs and sculpted each one till the ridges were sharply defined and looked like a washboard. Since the legs were technically done, Drew simply ran his oiled-up hands over the quads and shins, which caused any remaining leg hairs to completely disappear, then lifted up Dane’s arms to pour a strong, musky oil into it, rubbing it into his pits until the rest of his body began emanating the same intense smell.

Dane’s body was completely transformed, from looking like a big muscular Daddy to a young bodybuilder physique, but Drew wasn’t quite done yet. He smirked as he lifted the still-sleeping Dane across the room to a parlor chair, then grabbing the rest of his tools. First things first, Drew applied some shaving cream onto Dane’s face, massaging it deep into his jaw, then pulled out a razor and began shaving off all of Dane’s stubble and precious mustache. No stubble or facial hair was left behind, as Drew left Dane’s face squeaky clean like a baby. Grabbing the aftershave, he mixed it with some of the plumeria oil and massaged it into Dane’s face. It began to reshape, as his skin began to pull tighter as it regained its youth, pulling Dane back a few years in appearance till it looked like he was in his mid-20s, but the aftershave prevented him from growing any facial hair again.

As he kept up his work, Drew massaged the upper part of Dane’s face, the golden tan creeping up and washing his face, as Drew reshaped Dane’s eyes to have a more almond-like, distinctly Asian shape, while plucking out his eyebrows to define them further and make them look less bushy. Carefully, Drew opened Dane’s eyes and popped in a pair of dark brown, permanent contacts, and pierced Dane’s ears with simple silver diamond studs, making him look even more youthful. Finally, Drew pulled out a pair of scissors, a shaver and a comb, and cut off Dane’s luscious locks till his hair was shorter, with tapered fades on the sides, like a jock’s type of haircut, then topped it off by rubbing some coconut oil into hi hair until Dane’s rich brown waves turned jet black and straight. Dane was too deep in slumber to notice anything amiss, or even feel what was going on, he just felt very relaxed.

Once it was all finished, within just an hour of Dane’s arrival at the resort, Spa-Drew handed Dane over to one of the other Drews, who took him back to his villa, and dressed him up in a tank top, gym shorts and sneakers, and pulled out the AirPods. The magic of the massage and the oils Drew used had definitely rejuvenated him, and had helped rebuild the strength of his magical powers, but gave him a completely new appearance.

It was around sunset when Dane finally woke up, feeling plenty rested after having slept for most of the day. He smiled. “Fuck me, that –” Dane shut his mouth. His voice. It sounded different. Younger, for sure, but it wasn’t the deep, gravelly voice he knew to be his own. He looked down and saw a fitter, more shredded body than his, and his eyes widened. He rushed over to the mirror, and finally saw what had happened – he looked nothing like how he came in – he now had the appearance of a young Asian jock.

“Do you like the new look?” Drew said, leaning against the doorframe leading to the cove. “Enjoy your vacation, Dane. Just relax, get away from it all, and enjoy the new body – it’s yours until you get bored of it!” Drew chuckled as he ran off, leaving Dane stunned.

How will he explain this to Wavell when he goes back?

-----

I hope you all enjoyed this story!

Speaking of commissions, I will be opening up commissions to everyone very soon - keep your eyes peeled for a detailed post on it!

You can also tip me over on ko-fi, if you can't or don't want to commission! You don't have to tip me, but any support is always welcome.

#male tf #massage tf #mrwavellswaps #tf-lover #race tf #jock tf

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mrwavellswaps · 9 months

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BetterShirts

“Holy crap! Your tits are even bigger than before!” Matty exclaimed as he reached out and grabbed one of Sarah’s huge new pecs, squeezing it a little. Loving how soft the muscle felt and knowing damn well it could become hard as a rock with a single flex.

“They must’ve given me one of the men’s shirts by mistake.” Sarah huffed, looking down at her new muscle bound body as her gay best friend couldn’t help but be enthralled by her masculine form. “I’m surprised my leggings haven’t ripped yet with how big my thighs are now.” She added, glancing down at the tight fabric straining across her muscular legs and struggling to contain her hefty new bulge.

Sarah had been going to BetterGym for just over a month now. It was an expensive place but we’ll worth the money because when you arrive they give you what they like to call a ‘BetterShirt’ that shifts your body into whatever shape you’re striving for. They have multiple fits for both men and women. Men’s bodybuilder, Men’s toned, Women’s skinny, Women’s powerlifter and so many more! For example men that wore the men’s bodybuilder shirt would immediately hulk out into giant muscle beasts. It’s said that working out while using these body altering shirts can help train your body to remember that physique and grow into it much quicker when you’re not wearing the shirt. Until finally you don’t even need the shirts to look like that anymore! So many men and women had used these gym shirts to reach their dream bodies four times faster than they would’ve normally. Seeing results that would usually take years becoming attainable in only a few months.

Today Sarah decided to bring one of her best friends Matty with her as a guest. Unfortunately he couldn’t get a shirt without being a full member but he still got to see what it was all about as Sarah asked for her usual Women’s Aesthetic shirt. The staff who provided BetterShirt’s quickly grabbed one for her and presented it to the young women who gave a swift thank you before heading into a changing stall. Little did Sarah realise, she probably should’ve checked the tag on the shirt before slipping it on…

Usually what would happen is her body would become slimmer in some places and curvier in others to give her that perfectly balanced female form. But this time something was different. Instead of her body simply reshaping itself, it began growing from every angle! Arms and legs bulging with thick muscle as her height shot up rapidly. “What the fuuuck… is happeninnggggghhh…” She groaned in a voice that got noticeably deeper with every grunt. Her back and shoulders widened. Her breasts flattened only to make way for a pair of giant pecs that grew in their place moments later. Even her ass lost its feminine shape in favour of a tighter looking but still rather thick man butt. Her voice really dropped a couple octaves however when a fat pair of testicles formed between her legs followed by a fat juicy cock that replaced her former genitalia. Her entire body continued to pulse and grow as her face changed, losing its soft gentle features in return for rugged manly ones accompanied by some stubble and a shorter haircut.

Moments later a total hunk burst out of the stall, giving Matty quite the scare at first until Sarah explained what happened. She poked and prodded at her masculine body awkwardly for a moment, trying to wrap her head around what the hell just happened. Squeezing her biceps, exploring her new shape, grabbing her own ass a little. So much so that it encouraged Matty to do the same. How could he resist grabbing pecs as massive and juicy as those given the chance.

“Yep. The tag says Men’s Aesthetic. Not Women’s” Matty confirmed after Sarah asked him to check the collar for the shirt tag.

“Shit. Well I better go and swap this for the right one.” Sarah groaned in annoyance.

Just as the newly formed hunk was about to make his way back to the BetterShirt staff, Matty grabbed him for a moment. “Hold on! What’s the rush? You look hot as fuck right now. You can’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it’d be like to be a guy. All big and strong with a deep voice and powerful muscles.” He wiggled his eyebrows a little. “Come on. Just one gym session won’t hurt right?”

Sarah glanced over at a wall mirror nearby and saw the man she’d become. An aesthetic male version of herself with broad shoulders, big pecs and a skinny waist. She had to admit though, she looked good. A little meathead-ish perhaps but hot nonetheless.

“Fine. One session. But after that it’s back to the Women’s Aesthetic.” She claimed. Little did she know how deeply in love she’d fall for her manly new body over the next couple hours. Relishing in the explosive power her enormous muscles contained. Finding herself subtly groping her bulge when she thought nobody was looking until she had to excuse herself to get a proper look at her new cock in the men’s bathroom. Quickly realising just how addicting the feeling of having a dick was. So much so that she’d end up taking a Men’s Aesthetic shirt each and every time she went to the gym from that day forward in the hopes that one day she’d take off the shirt and she wouldn’t revert back. Allowing her to walk out of that gym a man… forever.

Wanted a bit more time to cook the next Homo-Bomb story so I hope you all enjoy this little caption in the meantime!

If you love my stories then please consider supporting me on Patreon as well!! ❤️

#male transformation #female to male #musclegrowth #female to male tf #male muscle growth #jock #clothes #permanent #caption #cock growth

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orchidyoonkook · 1 year

Text

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 1

Title: Assembly’s and Introductions

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Mild Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: There’s a new kid at your prestigious university, he’s tall, tattooed and muscular, and oh yeah, he’s the Prince.

Warnings: PG13, mild swearing, a general ‘lets get the ball rolling’ first chapter

Word Count: 5410

Release Date: January 26, 2023, 12:40PM

A/N 1: I’ve been working on this since September 2022, got 80K in, and have accidentally taken an extended break from Dec 1st until now. I need a kick in the pants to continue writing it so here’s the first chapter. I hope you enjoy as I have read this about 400 times and I’m sick of editing it.

A/N 1.5: it’s pronounced ‘Nehl” not “Neal”

“Come on, come ooooon!!” Yuri says as she drags you by one arm down the corridor, the other filled with books and study notes. You’re being dragged from your mid morning study session and she's starting to stretch your favourite sweater from how hard she’s pulling.

Slipping from her grasp to save it from any permanent damage, Yuri uses her new freedom to take the lead.

“Not everyone cares as much about this as you do,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I get you’re here because your parents put you here but I worked for it. I can’t just abandon my study plans for some guy,” voice echoing in the corridor as you succeed in keeping up with her quick pace.

Yuri mocks your words in gibberish, matching your tone, just more nasally.

She’s heard this hundreds of times since becoming your best friend in first year after being assigned your roommate. She may force you to go to places and parties you don’t find nearly as important as she does, but you also know she’s the only reason you’ve had any fun since starting university.

That doesn’t deter you though.

“I’m serious,” you insist, refusing to back down.

A look you know well flashes over her face. One that’s a mixture of absurdity and exhaustion— specifically at you.

“You know, sometimes I can’t even believe we’re friends. He’s not just some guy YN,” she looks over her shoulder to make eye contact. “He's the prince.”

Ah yes, the prince.

How could you be so foolish?

The fancy name given to the poor bastard who doesn’t get to decide his future—or work for it for that matter. Just has it handed to him because he was born at the right place, right time.

The prince who’ll be king to the biggest nation in the west one day.

The prince everyone freaks out over.

Sure, he’s cute enough, and will eventually have lots of money and power, because those are so important for someone like him.

But what’s money and power if you’re miserable or an asshole or you don’t know what to do with it? What’s money and power for someone who’s never known poverty and helplessness?

The title of Prince means nothing if you don’t earn it. Means nothing if you don’t know how to use it properly.

Who knows if this one does? So why should you particularly care?

Unfortunately, most people can’t get past the ‘young, handsome, future king of the Western Shores, hunk-a-hunk of dreamy’—blah, blah, blah, the media splatters over every magazine cover they possibly can, earning the prince a hefty social following of adoring, screaming—slightly brain dead if you had any say about it— ‘followers’ aka fans.

And Yuri, like every other girl on campus, is one of them. Minus the brain dead and screaming.

Well…Sort of minus the screaming.

She has screamed, in the past at least. So maybe just minus the brain dead part…

Anyways, she’s grabbing your wrist and you sigh, wringing yourself free of her near iron grip, again. But you can’t blame her.

Yuri’s focused on one thing, and one thing only.

And it’s beginning in 15 minutes.

“Plus I want good seats!”

You scoff.

“He’s just a person, Yuri. I get he’s got an important title and fancy job, but that’s all that separates him from us.”

She glares at you as you reach the courtyard of your school.

Trees surround the perimeter in evenly placed lines, a large running fountain at its center. There’s plenty of open grass space the students use to study, picnic or throw a ball around on. And its cobblestone walkways are currently covered in rows upon rows of filled up seats.

Most of those filled seats are in the middle though, which surprises you. You would’ve thought girls would be lining up at the front row to see their prince.

“Yeah, just the title and fancy job,” Yuri says, taking her turn to scoff and opens her hand to count on her fingers. “Let's not count the fact that he’s insanely hot—have you seen his body? His face? Or what of the land he’ll inherit on top of the land he already owns? And money! Can’t forget that. Or clothes. Not enough? I can keep going,” she switches to her other hand. “How about control over the largest kingdom in The West? They don't call him ‘Prince of the Western Shores’ for nothing, Sweets. Also the mass of adoring fans, security and advisors following his every move, nice cars, fancy vacation houses…should I keep going?”

You’re pretty sure she only stopped because she ran out of fingers and you don’t deign her with a reply. Yuri seems content to have made her point and she did.

But you’d never admit that to her. Instead you keep walking, taking in the sights around you.

Your school is The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts. Anyone can study here if they have the cash, or the brains, though one method is much more abused than the other.

It’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world because it’s where nearly every royal on this half of the continent goes to university. Hence the “Royal'' in the title.

Ladys, lords, dukes, duchesses, princesses and yes, princes all go here—are most of your classmates, actually. But there is only one prince everyone cares about. The one who, in the next few short years, will not only be at your school for whatever it is his father deems appropriate for him to study in his post secondary education, but the one who is also first in line and heir to the biggest kingdom in The West—if it hadn’t been mentioned before.

His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.

Okay… look.

It’s not that you don’t like him, he hasn’t done anything to make you hate him, and you’re sure he’s a decent guy once you get to know him.

It’s just that you don’t really feel any type of way about him, positive or negative. And that confuses so many people around you.

Which in turn, confuses you.

Most people seem to think he’s some sort of god sent angel carved by the hands of whoever created the universe. Fawning over him and thinking he can do no wrong. But what they all fail to see is that he’s just like them.

Got a bit more of a leg up on life than most, sure, but still human. Like you, or Yuri.

He eats and showers and uses the bathroom. He gets a runny nose and puffy eyes when he’s sick. He has bad hair days and ties his own shoes… you think.

He’s just a regular guy with an irregular job. So no, you had no opinion on him other than disinterested neutrality.

But if you had to feel something? You guess you probably felt pity.

You worked your ass off in highschool to get where you are. You and your mom screamed until your voices were hoarse when you got your acceptance letter two and a half years ago. One of 25 scholarship students accepted on a full ride every year.

You were doing a major in fine arts and a minor business, wanting to milk your education for all it’s worth on their dime. Lucking out that your two areas of interest were not only at one school, but at one of the best schools in the world for both subjects.

You chose what you wanted for your life and you worked for it for years. And now you sit comfortably at the top of your class in both fine arts and business, not taking your opportunity for granted for a second.

Jungkook though? He’s expected to go here. Doesn’t have much of a choice about it, and he doesn’t have to work for it either.

A small part of you that has yet to mature envies him for how easy he has it, for the privileges he is given simply because of one six letter word in front of his name. That he didn’t have to put in 60 hour weeks and give up his teenage years just to prove he was good enough to be here.

He was born good enough.

But that’s a small part of you, and you can ignore it if you try hard enough.

The point is you felt pity because he’s probably never had to work for something a day in his life. He doesn’t know the satisfaction of working towards something, to not only succeed, but to be the best.

To earn what he has.

He won’t know what to do when real life hits him.

Yuri lets a baby scream loose as she spots her desired seats and yanks you out of your thought spiral.

The front of the courtyard is still relatively empty, middle still filling up faster than anything else.

“Yes! Score! First row, left side, that’s perfect! He'll definitely see us.”

She grabs your arm a third time and it’s an effort not to drop your books and groan at her.

Yuri’s like you in the sense where she is not royalty, but unlike you she—or should you say, her parents—are loaded.

Family business perks.

She’s here because she can be, because her family can afford to send her and make donations, not because she wants to be or because she worked for it.

But don’t misunderstand that, Yuri works hard. She just happens to party more than she studies most days. That and plan her future with a very rich and handsome guy who has yet to be determined.

You’d jokingly deemed her a royalty hunter after about an hour of meeting her for how badly she wanted to ‘marry up.’

“See you,” you correct, or has she forgotten about Nel, your boyfriend of 5 years? Your high school sweetheart and who is currently, much to your dismay, at school about 5000 miles away.

“I’m sure Cornelius wouldn’t be mad if the prince charms his girl just once, seeing as his royal highness can do that to most people just by breathing near them,” she quips. ”And even if he would get mad, Jungkook can just have him thrown in a dungeon for being overprotective and jealous.”

“The royal palace doesn’t have dungeons, but they do have a series of interrogation rooms on the third lower level,” you inform her. You did a project on the history and architecture of the royal palace in tenth grade—and Nel really wouldn’t care, he knows where he stands, just like you do.

“How do you just know that!”

Yuri didn’t know you in highschool and you used that to your advantage every single time you could, laughing bright and loud.

She starts dragging you down the walkway again, a habit of hers. Like she’s worried you’ll try to slip away if she isn’t forcing you where she wants you to be.

It’s a good instinct on her part.

You're nearly there, so you focus more on the trees just starting to turn colours overhead, casting slightly pigmented shadows on the ground. Fall is just starting to creep up on the heels of summer, the days of sunscreen and chlorine slowly being replaced by pumpkin spice and crisp apples.

She sits exactly where she wanted too, and you plop beside her, glad you’re wearing a light sweater and tights. They are just warm enough to keep the slight breeze from giving you chills, but also keep your legs from sticking to the plastic seats.

For such an expensive school to go to you’d think they’d have better assembly furniture.

You notice a news camera off in the distance and suddenly understand the empty front seats. No one wants to publicly embarrass themselves on national television from seeing the prince, rewindable and replayable, forever seared into the internet.

It’s times like these you’re happy you’ve never been one to get starstruck. They’re all just people, why be shocked or surprised when they exist near you?

Opening up your books on your lap, you figure you can kill the next ten minutes in a productive way, considering what happened to your original plans for the mid morning.

And as you do, you feel the seats around you begin to fill, not a single one empty by the time the event starts. Not even the ones up front.

A jerked movement catches your eyes and you see that two seats closer to the pedestal from Yuri is Adaline.

Great.

Adaline Dupree is basically a princess from the Eastern Shores. ‘Basically’ because she’s not, but she certainly acts like she is. A fake princess, an even bigger royalty hunter than your best friend and your not so secret arch nemesis.

She’s in your fine arts classes—all of them, unfortunately—her proper title being ‘Duchess of…’ some province you never bothered to learn the name of, and she’s one of the most well known people on campus.

Tall, with beautiful blonde hair, hazel eyes, freckles, a slim figure and quite the socialite. You’re surprised she went into fine arts and not modeling. She’s got the ego part of the job down pat.

Good for her for being pretty. But anyone could be beautiful on the outside with enough money and a surgeon. That’s not why you considered her your nemesis, you don’t give a shit about any of that.

She was your nemesis in the academic world. Because not only was she beautiful, she was also brilliant at her craft.

Which happened to also be your craft, and it pissed you off to no end.

Where you were first, she was second and where she was first, you were second. Always neck in neck with one another, always trying to one up each other.

You only considered yourself better than her because unlike her, you hoped at least, Adaline was a complete and total bitch. She took what she wanted without remorse and she wasn’t above sabotage to get it.

You learned that the hard way in your first year. And you’ve always wondered if that was her privileged upbringing speaking or if she’s just like that naturally, so unused to not getting what she wanted that she’d take it.

Therefore, it is of absolutely no shock to you that she’s sitting as close as she possibly can to where the prince will be standing. Directly in front of the pedestal at the base of the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

A door opens to your right followed by a couple screams, and you can only assume the man of the hour has arrived. A red camera light flicks on in your peripheral vision and you take that as your confirmation and cue to close your books.

The Dean of Schools, a few advisor looking people, a good handful of terrifyingly large security guards, and a head of black hair you conclude to be the prince all make their way towards their destination.

A smirk graces your face at all the girls batting eyelashes or screaming his name, as if that would get his attention. You’re about to mention that exact thought to Yuri, but you notice her eyelashes looking awfully similar to those around you and can’t help failing to stifle a laugh.

She catches it. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say. “You might just want to pick your jaw up off the ground.”

Her response gets cut off when a voice comes over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for such a warm welcome,” says the Dean, calm and assured. She knew exactly the welcome they'd receive. “I’ll keep my introduction short. Today, I present to you not only the newest addition to The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts, but the future King of our great nation. He has requested to formally address the student body before he starts classes this fall semester, so without further adieu: His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.”

Riigghht. Did you mention he was the prince of the country you’re living in?

Well…he is.

The crowd soars in volume once more, a couple “I love you’s” thrown in for good measure as the prince steps up and you zone out.

From your angle, you can see his whole body from the side, and that even though he’s holding cue cards, he doesn’t use them, placing them face down on the pedestal.

His dark hair is swept back in a suave styling and he’s wearing a simple navy long sleeve button up, black dress pants and matching leather shoes.

The outfit makes him look ever so princely and very much not like a student. More like one of the faculty.

However, what you don’t expect are the small patches of ink on his arm peeking out of his right sleeve. Or just how tight the clothes he wears are on his apparently very muscular form.

You remember Yuri’s words from earlier, only now registering. You knew he had muscles, no one ever shut up about them. But seeing them in person… wow.

You kind of want to sketch him—for anatomy practice, of course.

The prince begins his address to the crowd and an eerie silence replaces the roars from earlier. You take a quick look around and notice that not one person isn’t completely transfixed on him. Even the dean can’t keep her eyes off him.

You give him credit for not balking under the intense gazes of literally everyone. You know you sure as hell would have, never being one to like being the center of attention. At least, not like this.

You clue into his speech as you look back at him. He’s talking about how he found himself as a teenager thinking of what he wanted his future to look like and what he wanted to do with his schooling, which is not only why he took a couple years to explore the continent before enrolling, but why he will be doing a major and a minor at the school.

One for his career, and one for his heart.

You won’t admit to yourself that the sentiment very closely resonates with you.

He continues.

“All that said, I asked to address you all today for one very simple reason, being that, for my time here at the academy, I wish to be treated like any other student. I am not unaware of my celebrity and how I am seen to the outside world. It is not lost on me my place in the world and who I am to become. I know for some that it may be… difficult to see me for anything other than who I am, and this is why I ask you humbly, just for the short while that I’m here, you all treat me no differently than you already do one another,” he pauses for a moment. “I extend my request most deeply to those who will be studying alongside me in my business administration major and photography minor, as I don’t want it to affect my studies.”

Yuri slaps her hand down onto your leg causing you to jerk forward and you clamor to not drop any of your books. Business administration is her major. Her parents want her to take over the family biz after school.

That was probably why she partied so much. Living as much as she can before being thrust into a job she doesn’t want for the rest of her life.

Pity creeps back up your throat at the thought.

Jungkook notices your jerking movement, but only for a second. His eyes meet yours and you hope yours convey ‘sorry for interrupting’.

You may not care about him, but just like him you are not unaware of his status in the world outside the walls of your school.

Yuri, of course, thinks he’s looking at her and not only does her grip on your leg tighten to the point of circulation cut off, she returns to her earlier routine of batting her eyelashes.

You roll your eyes away from her sight, but unbeknownst to you, well within the gaze of Jungkook.

He suppresses a smile at your response to your friend's clear attempts to gain his attention.

You, on the other hand, seem indifferent to him. He has the entire student body watching his every move with hawk-like precision, enraptured. Normal, for him.

But you?

You just seem to… not care. Like he wasn’t anyone special. Like the word in front of his name meant nothing.

And if it wasn't the most freeing feeling he’s felt in a long time.

“Thank you so much for your time, and I’ll see you all around campus,” he finishes before stepping down, security wrapping around him again until he’s barely visible. The dean pops up to conclude the gathering but you aren’t paying attention anymore, too busy trying to peel Yuri’s hand off your thigh.

“Yuri, retract the claws please!” you whisper-yell to your friend. And she does in fact, retract instantly.

“Shit, sorry. My brain is running a million miles a minute,” she says as she pinches herself, shaking her head and smiling. “I’m three years ahead of him in his major. His major YN! But he’s still older than us, which is so hot. I'm so glad he did that tour in the east and whatever else that kept him back for a couple years, it makes this whole situation even better,” you start to worry at the look in her eye as she continues.

“What if he needs a tutor? What if I become his tutor, and we fall in love like a cliche romance movie. I could be the future queen. YN, this could actually happen for me. I could actually get the prince, it’s not some wild dream anymore. I could talk to him and he would talk back and this could happen.”

You can feel that she’ll just keep spiraling, nothing being able to stop her train of thought at this point, so you try your best to at least have her do her thinking in her head.

“Maybe! I wish you nothing but luck!” And you mean it. You don’t think it will happen the way she does, but you never know. And you don’t want to give her false hope.

You’ve always been the realist to Yuri’s optimist.

With the assembly over, most of the crowd files out of the courtyard quickly, prior plans calling to them or classes starting soon.

Only a few stragglers are left behind. You and Yuri are two of them, as well as Adaline, and a couple more you don’t know.

Security starts to spread out and you watch as Jungkook makes his way to the people farthest from you, much to their delight.

It’s a group of guys, all of whom look muscular enough to be varsity athletes. Maybe Jungkook will want to do sports while he’s here. You know that he’s an accomplished rugby player, greatly to his fathers dismay, but to the pleasure of anyone who has about $10 and has access to magazines or wifi.

“Oh my god he’s making his way over. Do. Not. Move. I want him to come to us,” Yuri says, forcing you to stay in your spot. It would be fruitless to try anything anyway. Another lesson you learned the hard way in first year.

She starts fluffing her hair and asking you to check her teeth. You do. She’s in the clear.

Unfortunately, you two would most likely be the last people he greeted, so you had to watch as he made his way down the line of people.

He greets the guys with a handshake and a clap to the back, and the girls with a kiss to the top of the hand.

One thing you notice as he meets more and more people is that everyone still calls him ‘prince’ or ‘your highness.’

It’s automatic for them, they’re not even thinking twice about it, but it’s also completely besides the point of half of his whole speech. He wanted to be treated like everybody else.

It especially irked you when it was Adaline’s turn and she put on her most feminine, formal, and ridiculously overly flirty, “Hello, Prince Jungkook,” before curtseying, blasting her full facade of charm and courteousness.

Ever the dainty, prim and proper duchess, she’s all small laughs and less than subtle flirting, never impolite, and never speaking out of turn.

You wanted to gag, and you’re quite sure that’s exactly what your face conveyed. But Jungkook smiles wide for her, and is as kind to her as he was to everyone else prior. He even flirts back a little bit.

Yeah, you definitely want to gag. What a match those two would make.

But just as soon as he greets Adaline and her friend, he politely steps away and moves on to you and Yuri.

“Hello ladies, what might your names be?” he asks ever so formally.

You gently laugh at being called a lady and Yuri shoots you a look. Jungkook doesn’t appear to take offense though.

“Hello, your highness!” Yuri chirps in the most ‘I'm trying to flirt but trying to not sound like I’m flirting’ voice you’ve ever heard her use. “My name is Yuri Yeun, and I’m actually a business admin major too, just a few years ahead.”

Jungkook lifts her hand to his mouth, giving it a light kiss and she looks like she’s about to explode.

“It’s lovely to meet you Yuri, I’ll look forward to seeing you around the halls,” he says in the same tone he’s used for everyone else. He’s about to face you, but Yuri cuts in quickly.

“If you ever need any help with your studies, just let me know. I’d be happy to help you with anything you might need help with. Having already been through it, I may be able to give a students insight versus a professors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future. Thank you for your generosity.” Again that same tone, you mentally dub it his ‘greeting the public like the ever so good royal I am’ voice.

He turns to you and extends his hand for yours.

You reach for it, twisting it so that instead of a hand turned upright to be kissed, it’s a regular handshake. If he wanted to be treated like anyone else here, you sure as hell were going to.

“I’m YN, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook.” At the mention of his name untitled, he pauses, eyes widening ever so slightly. It’s not a bad pause, just a surprised one. And by the looks of the small smile on his face, a good one.

Yuri's eyes, on the other hand, almost bug out of her skull at your informal greeting.

“Likewise,” he manages to get out, completely unlike his usually composed self.

You're the only one who hasn’t addressed him with his title, and it’s the most like him he’s ever felt.

Twice in one day—in one hour—you’ve managed to make him feel more human and more like himself than he ever has. With your distinct indifference to him of all things.

Jungkook decides then and there he’s very sure he wants more of it in his life.

He still hasn’t stopped shaking your hand, and you don’t know why that’s the only thing you can focus on. His hand is firm and calloused, the kind that can only be built over years of hard work.

Releasing you the second you think it, he looks as if he hadn’t realized he was still holding on too.

Quick to step back into his princely role, Jungkook says, “Pardon my forwardness, but I just have to say that the two of you are beautiful, and that it’s been lovely to meet you both.”

You swear you see Yuri’s soul ascend from her body at his words. “Thank you, Your Highness! That means so much coming from someone as well met as yourself,” she nearly fawns, and you roll your eyes out of her sight for the second time today.

And for the second time today, Jungkook does not let the gesture go unnoticed. How you hold no fear in showing how you feel in front of others, even those you’ve just met. As if it holds no consequence.

It doesn’t for you, he realizes.

You can freely show how you feel without worry of anyone over-analyzing your every facial tic. No fear that a slight misuse of a lip quirk or eyebrow raise could give away national secrets or offend a visiting diplomat.

He envies you for it. For having that freedom he so rarely does.

“You’re most welcome, Yuri. I’m glad you hold my opinion in such high regard.” He flashes her that well practiced bright smile and you already know what she won’t be shutting up about it anytime soon.

“I’ve always been told I have my fathers bone structure but my mothers beauty. I’ll be sure to let them know their Prince thinks the combination is worth complimenting,” you respond, not braggadocious or sarcastic in the slightest.

You know it would make your mom so proud to hear the future king found you pretty, even if you knew the compliment was given to every girl here.

Your father wasn’t in the picture, but that didn’t matter and the prince didn’t need to know.

“I hope they won’t mind a stranger's compliment on their daughter then,” Jungkook says, ducking his head slightly and giving you a smaller smile.

This one felt genuine, like he wanted to hold it back but couldn’t. So you return a small one of your own, to let him know this was an even exchange. You may not feel any type of way about the prince, but you were raised to be kind.

“Any praise for their daughter from the future King would be welcomed any day, I’m sure,” Yuri cuts back in, killing his smile along with it.

You’re sad to see it go.

“I’m relieved to hear it,” he responds, princely public persona back on. Stupid flashy smile back on. “What will you two be heading off to do now?”

“What I wanted to be doing for the last half hour in the first place before being hauled down here by this one,” you point a thumb at Yuri. “Finishing my study hour at the library,” you add quickly, before Yuri can get out her answer. You almost wish you hadn't because the hand that had your thigh in a death grip earlier now only somewhat playfully swats your shoulder.

“YN!”

“What!? I’m just being honest. He wants to be treated like anyone else right? That comes with people being honest to you instead of glazing over their answers with pretty little white lies to appease you.”

Yuri looks ready to rip you a new one, but she’s cut off again before she can open her mouth. This time by the prince.

“No, no it’s okay,” Jungkook says before she can swat you again. She stops mid swing at his words, eyes as wide as saucers at being stopped. “YN’s right, I appreciate the honesty, and I apologize for the interruption. I hope your studies will not be too greatly affected because of it.”

“Guess we’ll find out during midterm season,” you say with a smirk that turns into a genuine smile as you see Jungkook look panicked, like he actually thinks he messed up your education by disturbing your study session.

Relief quickly replaces the panic when he sees your smile and realises it was a joke.

Being treated like a regular person also meant being joked with at their expense, and he takes it in stride as his small smile from earlier makes a comeback.

“Well I have class in half an hour,” Yuri says, finally answering his question, “So probably grabbing a coffee from the cafe near the biz-admin building… I could show you if you want?”

“That sounds great actually, I’m still trying to figure out where everything is.”

“Great! Let’s go.”

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, lifts an arm for her to take and you watch them walk off, Yuri absolutely beaming as she glances back at you. You give her a thumbs up before collecting your books and heading back in the direction of the library.

Chapter Two: Unknown Numbers and Sharp Tongues

A/N 2: and so it begins.

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