Freaky Friday [NSFW]
Day Six: Body Swap!
for #daisy's 12 days of tropemas <3 event!
Summary: You woke up this morning feeling sore in a way that you never had before. Muscles that you didn’t even know existed throbbed low and dull, like a second pulse beneath your skin. You groan and - wait, that wasn’t your voice! Something deeper, something huskier, rumbles out of your chest, and you scramble to the bathroom only to find…your boyfriend’s face, looking back at you?! A frantic conversation later and a long-winded explanation to Chan gets the two of you put on “house arrest” until the issue sorts itself out. You suppose there are worse things than being trapped in your hot boyfriend’s body in his house, all alone with him. For the whole day. Hmm, you can think of quite a few better things the two of you can do while you’re swapped!
TLDR; your boyfriend and you bodyswap and get freaky.
Warnings: body swap trope, sub!Jeongin, dom!reader (loosely implied to be afab, but no language is used!), penetration (Jeongin!receiving), oral (Jeongin!receiving), dynamic switch, Jeongin calls reader “hyung”/“hyungie” (in my heart genderless because reader is in Jeongin’s body), overstimulation (Jeongin!receiving), pegging mention (in a joke), swearing
w.c.: 8.7K
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Hello I am back from the dead!! This was a different kind of fic than I’m used to, but body swap with a reader insert was actually really fun to write! Officially a whole month late but it’s okay </3 Suppose it’s a winter special now, but I’m still glad to be getting it out to you! Be on the lookout for a bunch of new fics dropping soon, I’m in the part of North America experiencing “snowmageddon” so I’m trapped inside for a while (which means more writing!). Stay safe if you’re experiencing the heavy weather right now, and I hope you enjoy the fic!
You woke up this morning and felt…off.
If you were a gym rat like your boyfriend or Changbin, perhaps this feeling would be completely normal. You had long since stopped trying to keep up with either of them at the gym, because the last few times you had tried, you had ended up basically bedridden for the next three days, muscles tense and sore in a way you physically didn’t know was possible. You had wanted to curl up in a ball and never move again. Jeongin had spent those days pouting and apologizing, but it didn’t matter - you had already sworn you would never be doing his routine with him again.
“I’ll go with you,” you had huffed, “but I am not going to try and do whatever the hell you’re doing. You might be an idol, but I’m not, and I don’t have a need to have washboard abs year round.”
But you hadn’t gone to the gym with him yesterday. You had been in the middle of something when Jeongin had thrown his arms around your midriff and tried to (literally) drag you to the gym with him. You had resisted, and he had given you those big, glossy eyes he gives you whenever he wants his way, but you had held your ground for once.
…which is why it was extra strange that you were feeling sore.
It was a pleasant kind of sore, the kind of sore that makes you feel like you did something good, the kind of sore that feels like progress rather than pain. You might feel this kind of sore if you had really riled your boyfriend up the night before and he had “no choice” but fuck you into next Tuesday, or if you had tagged along to the gym and done your own thing. The most confusing thing was that you hadn’t done much of anything to have earned the kind of soreness that settled under your skin.
Confused, you go to roll out of bed, and find out quite quickly that your core is a bit sore too, and you groan as the muscles in your abdomen clench and complain at the sensation of having to get up.
The voice that comes out of your throat is familiar, but you know immediately, with startling clarity, that it is most certainly not your own. It feels deeper, like there’s gravel in your throat, and suddenly there’s far more urgency in your mission to get up and figure out what the fuck is going on.
You stumble up to your feet just to realize you’re also not in your room. The space is familiar, and something settles deep in your stomach when you realize that this is Jeongin’s room. Which wouldn’t make any sense, because you remember quite vividly falling asleep in your own bed, but that’s fine. Everything’s fine.
That’s what you keep trying to tell yourself, but when you throw open the door and try to run to the bathroom to check your face out in the mirror, you run face first into Chan, who does not appreciate your clumsy, frantic movements. You pull back, startled, and he rubs his nose, which you had just slammed so kindly with your shoulder, sending you a withering look.
“Jesus, Ayen-ah, watch where you’re going,” he huffs, but then he catches the look on your - Jeongin’s? - face and freezes, “Hey. Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Chan…” you whimper in a voice that isn’t your own.
The fear in your voice sends him into leader mode almost immediately. You can tell on his face that he knows something is off - Jeongin has never made a sound quite like the sound you just made - but you can also tell he doesn’t know what it is. His shoulders straighten, and any tiredness that was in his eyes is totally gone, replaced with sharp awareness.
Before you can say anything, there’s a rapid set of knocks on the door, feeling just as frantic as your heartbeat, and you autopilot to go open it. Chan makes a sound of protest, but you find that you’re able to easily match his strength and speed right now, and you wiggle away from him to the door before he can stop you and question you more.
You throw open the door to see your own face staring back at you, all wide eyes and messy hair. You look a mess, and the outfit that you’re in is frankly kind of ugly, but you don’t even have the time to care, because you’re yanking “you” - hopefully Jeongin - into the building and slamming the door shut behind him.
“You have two seconds the explain what the fuck is going on-”
“Would you laugh at me if I said it was a dare?”
Your own voice startles you a bit, and you step back, blinking at him.
“...a dare.”
“Yeah,” he (you?) says, sounding sheepish, “Hannie-hyung dared me to buy a spell off Etsy-”
“You’re telling me an Etsy witch did this,” you deadpan, voice riddled with disbelief, “You can’t be serious. We both know that all of that ‘magic’ stuff is bullshit-”
“Clearly not, or we wouldn’t be in this situation!” He yells, cutting you off. “They said ‘twelve hour guarantee’ and I kind of forgot about it, honestly-”
You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “I’m going to kill you.”
“It’s probably reversible?”
“Don’t say it like you don’t believe it,” you respond, glaring down at your own face, “I can’t be trapped like this forever. I don’t have any idol training, I’m going to say some stupid shit on camera and get you - us? - cancelled.”
“Would anyone kindly like to explain to me what the hell you guys are talking about?” Chan says, rounding the corner with his arms crossed.
He looks tired again, but not from lack of sleep anymore. He looks between the two of you - the way that you’re hunched in Jeongin’s body, in the way that Jeongin is attempting to do his signature smirk on your face - and just squints at you both, like he can almost connect the pieces himself.
“Did you know that Etsy witches might actually be able to do magic?” Jeongin pipes up unhelpfully. “Isn’t that so exciting? Magic might be real, hyung!”
The use of the honorific is enough for a lightbulb to go off in Chan’s head, and he reels backwards, shock written across his features.
“You’re joking. You have to be messing with me.” He responds, but when he watches your face crumble and Jeongin just grimaces, it’s his turn to groan and drag a hand down his face.
“Okay. Kitchen table. You two are going to sit down and explain exactly what happened and why this-” he motions between the two of you “-is even possible.”
“Actually, it’s Hannie-hyung’s fault-”
“Shut up and sit down, Jeongin,” Chan groans, leading the two of you to the kitchen, “and you. I expected better from you.”
“In my defense, I had no idea I would be part of an Etsy spell until I woke up this morning,” you said, wincing when Jeongin’s voice cracks because you’re not used to how it feels in your throat, “I’m just as lost as you are, Chan. Or…hyung, I guess?”
Chan looks like he’s about to cry, and you can’t really blame the guy. You, too, would be near tears if your maknae somehow managed to find the one witch on Etsy that could actually cast a spell and somehow chose possibly the worst possible spell for an idol. You think his body could probably muscle memory most of the choreo he needs for the schedules he has in a few days, but that doesn’t mean that you want to find out.
“So…” Jeongin says, looking between the two of you, “I went to the gym with Hannie-hyung yesterday, right? And someone didn’t want to go with me, so I thought I was going to get dinner alone like a loser, but then Hannie-hyung offered to go with me to that new ramen stop around the corner from the gym.”
“Jeongin. We don’t need the backstory, we need what the hell you did.” You huff, crossing your arms across your chest.
“I feel like I deserve a chance to defend my poor choices,” he retorts, sending you a look before continuing, “Anyways. We got ramen, and then he asked if I wanted to come over to watch that new show we started, and I told him sure, because my partner doesn’t love me and doesn’t want to spend time with me-”
“I’m so sorry that I have a job that runs on a different schedule than yours.” you respond drily, and he flips you off.
“Anyways we might’ve gotten a liiiiittle tipsy, and maybe he dared me to buy one of those shady Etsy spells-”
“Why would you ever listen to Jisung?” Chan groans, looking like he’s two seconds away from tearing his hair out. “He always has terrible ideas.”
“His idea sounded very funny at the moment,” he responds, “Plus, neither of us thought it would work. It’s the kind of thing you do drunkenly and then laugh about later! C’mon, you’re telling me I was supposed to know that I would find the one lady that could actually cast a spell?? I was drunk.”
“Which means you shouldn’t have been buying things in the first place,” Chan reminds him, then sighs a long, dramatic sigh, “Just- send me the link, okay? I’ll look into it more with a couple of the trusted management members. This is your last chance for the two of you to tell me that this is a prank and that you got me.”
“You just walked the prank!” you exclaim, just as Jeongin goes:
“I really wish it was, hyung.”
Jeongin glares at you, and you give him a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, I thought it was funny.”
“God, the two of you are going to make me go grey,” Chan groans, standing up, “Okay. You’re going to give me that stupid link, and the two of you are not going to leave the dorm at any costs. You got that? Unless the building is burning down or there’s some sort of natural disaster, you are not to leave this dorm. We can’t have anyone catching wind of this, because none of us want to deal with the PR nightmare that would happen if this somehow gets to Dispatch.”
You give him a mock salute and a hard nod, and Jeongin just gives him a thumbs-up. Chan sighs, though there’s a fondness in his eyes now, and he moves to gather his things to head out to the JYP building, already calling someone as he’s moving.
Which leaves you alone with Jeongin, who is doing everything in his power to avoid eye contact now that you’re alone again. You stare at him for a while, studying the way that he squirms under your gaze just like you do when he stares at you like this. Like he’s dissecting you, like he’s seeing inside of your head and reading your mind. At least, now that you’re in his body, you can confirm that he can’t read your mind.
“Do I make you nervous?” You dip his voice just the way that you know gets a reaction out of you, and huff a laugh out when his thighs press together involuntarily. “Geez, this is fun! I’m starting to get why you mess with me all of the time.”
“Shut up,” he huffs, but his voice is weak, and the thrill of messing with him so easily sends a jolt up your spine, “I can’t help it.”
“I’m in perfect control right now,” you say, staring him down as he still avoids looking over at you properly, “You can certainly help the way that you’re acting if I can keep it together, can’t you?”
“Obviously,” he retorts, crossing his arms, and you start to understand why Jeongin calls you cute all of the time, “I’ll perfectly put together.”
“Mhm.” You hum, then stretch out and stand up. “Well, I’m going to put something on the TV. Might as well watch something to make this house arrest a little easier, right?”
“...right.”
He stumbles after you, like he was expecting you to tease him more. Almost like he wanted you to. His reactions are so cute, and even though it’s your own body, and you shouldn’t be getting horny thinking about it, knowing that he’s the one in there makes it so much more fun to tease him. You wonder if perhaps you’re just easy to work up, but you’re sure the feelings that Jeongin is feeling are very unfamiliar. The way heat is curling in your body is different, thicker and heavier, and instead of making your knees buckle, it instead makes an unknown energy buzz under your skin. You’re pretty sure you’re starting to get hard, though you don’t quite understand the feeling, and you choose to ignore it for now. You can’t let him have the upperhand, after all.
The two of you sink into opposite corners of the couch and you fumble through the TV channels until you land on some K-drama that you and Jeongin had mentioned wanting to watch eventually. It wasn’t on the top of your list by any means, but you weren’t exactly intending to intently watch the show the whole time anyways.
The distance is abnormal to how the two of you would normally sit on the couch unless Jeongin was having a low contact day, but even on those kinds of days, he usually still likes you to be close enough that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted to. Now, he’s curled himself up into the corner like he’s trying to sink into it, making you look so small that you’re almost surprised he manages to squish himself so deep into the cushions. You don’t say anything, just send him a wary glance, before settling yourself into the corner that the two of you usually curl up into, one arm up on the back of the couch to leave space for him in case he changes his mind. Your body settles like this almost automatically, like he’s so used to having you around that it’s just motor memory to leave space for you next to him, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest at the thought of it.
It’s a little strange to be in his body, everything a little heavier and moving a little different than what you’re used to. There’s a subtle power to your movements that you couldn’t feel in your own body, the kind of bodily control you could only gain from years and years of training and dancing. It’s a little intoxicating, and while you’re certain that you would very much like to be back in your body, thank you very much, you also don’t hate the way it feels to be Jeongin right now.
The K-drama is playing, the female protagonist having some sort of internal monologue moment where she’s realizing that she has feelings for the male protagonist but she can’t because he’s a CEO and she’s just his secretary - what a terrible plot, you muse - but you really, really can’t keep yourself focused on the show. You keep sneaking glances at Jeongin, who’s made himself more comfortable in your body now, a little more lax now that the show is playing and you’re not interrogating him with your eyes anymore. He seems to be trying to actually watch the show, so you lean back and try your best to focus too, though it’s hard when you’re just so curious about how he’s feeling in your body right now.
Because you know for a fact that your body was probably extremely worked up. You had taken a nap later in the day yesterday and woke up dizzy with need on your couch, body on fire after a particularly dirty dream about your boyfriend. Your underwear had been sticky with arousal, but you hadn't come, so you had stumbled your way to your bedroom in a lust-driven haze in the hopes to get yourself off, take a shower, and then get yourself into your actual bed for the night. You loved your couch, but you certainly didn’t love the way it left a dull ache in your neck when you slept on it instead of your bed.
Embarrassingly enough, you had come to the terrible, terrible conclusion that you just might not be able to get yourself off without the help of your boyfriend anymore. You had spent the better part of almost three hours trying to get yourself off. You had tried everything in your repertoire - fingers, toys, your pillow, the shaky video that Jeongin took of himself jacking off for you when he was on tour - but nothing could tip you over the edge. There were tears pricking the corner of your eyes when you had simply just given up, too embarrassed to booty call your boyfriend and admit that you couldn’t come without him and were completely unable to get yourself off efficiently on your own. It was quite frankly a miserable way to end your night, and even after you had taken a colder shower in the hopes to dim the hot simmer under your skin, you had still felt needy.
You had fallen asleep with a heat swirling in your gut that you had tried so incredibly hard to ignore, and had woken up sore in sheets that weren’t your own. You suppose you were also glad about this body swap because you were so worked up the night before that you’re pretty sure you would’ve jumped Jeongin’s bones the second you had been awake enough to call him and coerce him to come over. But now, Jeongin was the one who was all worked up, and you got to be the one with a level head, the one who called the shots. You wonder briefly how he never lets the power of it get to his head.
The room is quiet sans the noise of the K-drama, which has managed to change to the next episode while you were lost in thought (or at least you think so, because there’s a very unfamiliar character on screen who you suppose is part of the B-plot romance). The actress is decent, and so is her male counterpart, but the side actors that aren’t involved in what looks to be the B-romance are terrible, their delivery choppy and their faces twisted into completely the wrong emotions. The way they so easily contradict their own script with their faces makes you almost want to laugh, but something about the way the quiet has settled makes you hold it back.
The silence is thick, heavy with words that neither of you want to say, but you revel in the way it feels like you control it now. Usually, you’d be shrinking into the couch under the weight of it, body on fire and doing everything to keep your thighs from flexing and clenching together over and over to provide yourself some relief. A quick glance at Jeongin reveals that he’s doing just that, but he’s not trying to control it. You suppose that he’s chasing the way the press of his thighs together is sending a thrill of pleasure through him, the seam of the jeans probably digging into his entrance in a way that would have you biting back sounds.
He doesn’t even try to hide the way that it makes him whimper occasionally, mouth parting and glassy eyes focused on the wall beyond the screen. You kind of feel bad, but part of you likes the way that he’s almost…out of control now.
While your boyfriend and you certainly didn’t have a strict dynamic, you certainly knew who held the power, and never once was it you. You liked it that way, honestly - liked the way that Jeongin could control a space with just a look, like how it felt to surrender to him - but this was so much fun. He would never make those kinds of sounds in his own body, would never let himself get dizzy on pleasure without dragging you there first. He was almost selfishly tasting the bite of pleasure that he was feeling in your body without understanding what it was in the first place, and it made you want to ruin him.
You suppose he’s not innocent, though, and perhaps he does know what he’s doing. You wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, getting himself off in front of you with little twitches of his thighs and subtle shifting, because he knows it’ll get you warm. You wonder if he feels empty like you do when you get worked up sometimes, body so trained to the shape of him that you miss the way he fills you when he’s gone.
You had certainly felt empty last night, when the curl of your own fingers wasn’t enough. His fingers were so long, could reach that spongy spot inside of you without having to struggle, and even three of your fingers couldn’t compare to how he made you feel with just two of his. That had been when you genuinely thought you might cry from frustration, because your stupid body was trained to seek pleasure not from yourself anymore, but from your stupid boyfriend, who you had denied earlier. Post-gym sex was always a beautiful haze, the pump under both of your skins making you both messy and needy, and had you known you were going to be this needy, you probably would’ve dropped whatever you were doing and gone with him to the gym.
But that wasn’t important now, because Jeongin was the one feeling the aftershocks. You suppose you can thank whatever divine intervention led to your vibrator not being charged so you couldn’t even use that in a last ditch effort to push yourself over the edge last night. Because now Jeongin was using your jeans to get himself off in not-so-subtle rocks of his hips, grinding forward and then down, thighs pressing together and shifting to catch the seam against your arousal just right. You consider letting him ride it out, but the idea of reminding him that you’re right here is too good to miss.
So you decide to tease. “Having fun over there, jagi?”
He freezes, and you can almost feel the familiar way that heat rushes to his cheeks. “W-what?”
“That’s my body you’re in, you know,” you say, lazily leaning back and spreading your legs out, enjoying the way his eyes automatically drop to your lap, “And I’m not stupid. I know how good it feels to ride that seam until your vision gets blurry. You’re moaning, didn’t you realize?”
He wasn’t really moaning, just little breathy sounds here and there that you would’ve missed if you weren’t paying attention, but the tease makes the flush crawl down his neck, spreading across his collarbones. You never realized just how wide-eyed you get when Jeongin teases you like this, like a deer in headlights, but right now it’s sending a sick sort of thrill down your spine. The cock sitting heavy between your legs stirs to life, twitching in interest when Jeongin whines pathetically, your own glassy eyes staring back at you. He’s twisted your mouth into a pout, but the flush on his cheeks doesn’t settle, which gives him away easily.
“I’m not…you…!” he stammers, fingers twisting in his lap, “Don’t tease. ‘s not my fault that you’re horny all of the time. Woke up and thought I was going to die.”
“You’re so dramatic,” you say, rolling your eyes, “Must’ve had a real good dream then, jagi, to make you squirm like that. I went to bed like normal last night, all this-” you motion at him and his eyes flit away again “-is all you.”
You’re lying, but he doesn’t have to know that just yet, and the way the pout sinks deeper into his cheeks makes you grin lazily. He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at you, but it doesn’t hold any heat, and you just laugh at him openly.
“C’mon, jagi, I’m just teasing,” you say, head lolling to the side so you can stare at him properly, “I can show you how to get rid of the ache, if you want.”
He blinks at you, mouth dropping open as he stares at you like you’ve grown a second head.
“What? That’s my body, Yennie, I know how to make it feel good,” you hum, once again lying out of your ass because apparently you don’t anymore, “If you’re so uncomfortable I can help out. It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before.”
“You’re crazy,” he retorts, but you can see from the way he’s digging his teeth into his lower lip that he’s considering it, “You’re crazy. Why would I want to look in my own eyes and be told how to…to…jack off??”
“You don’t think it’d be a little hot?” You breathe, looking at him through lidded eyes, “Learning how good we can make each other feel like this. Learning how good it is to be filled. You’re squirming so easily jus’ thinking about it, imagine how it would feel to experience the stretch of my cock, carving the shape of it into you.”
“Jesus fucking christ,” he responds, easy wide and thighs clenching, “Where’d you learn to talk like that?? Give a guy a warning, oh my god.”
You grin back at him, that fox-eyed smirk he gives you whenever he knows he’s won. You know the effect it has on you, the way it makes a heat burn under your skin, a weird twist of bratty anger and arousal that never fails to make you gush into your underwear. You watch the way that feeling twists through Jeongin now as his mouth twitches like he’s going to retort, but all he can get out is a shaky “fuck off” that trails off into a whimper. You feel arousal pooling in your belly at the sight.
You suppose he’s right, that this should be weird, that being turned on by your own body writhing on the couch a couple feet away was probably strange, but you really couldn’t help it. You suppose it’s partially because Jeongin is attracted to you, and his body is responding to the way your body is moving and acting right now, but there’s also a part of you that’s you that wants this. That wants to make him feel the way you do when he picks you apart, piece by piece, and reminds you of your place. It makes you want to be in control more often, and you wonder if he’d let you play this dynamic every once and a while once you’re back in your own body.
You table that idea for now, because Jeongin is still trying to use your jeans to give him some relief, though the movements are a lot more subtle now that you’ve got your eyes on him. If you didn’t know what it felt like, or how to get away with getting yourself worked up right under his watchful eye, you wouldn’t have known what he was doing. Unfortunately for him, you can read your own body like a book, and you can see the telltale way his thighs twitch when he catches that ridge just right.
“Stop.”
The command is sudden and sharp, and you watch the way that Jeongin does, almost like he physically can’t disobey you. Like your body is trained to listen to him when he speaks like that. His hands clench at his side, and he gives you a look like he’s waiting for your next instruction.
“Okay. Here’s how we’re going to do this,” you say, keeping your voice low and in control so he knows that you’re serious, “You’re going to go to your bedroom and strip. Get yourself comfortable on the bed and wait for me. I expect you to be fully naked by the time I come and join you.”
He nods, standing up on wobbly legs. You almost laugh when his knee buckles a bit and he has to stumble to steady himself, but you refrain, knowing it would break the moment wide open.
“Oh, and Jeongin?” You call after him, smiling sharply when he stops and tilts his head back to stare at you.
“Don’t you dare touch yourself.”
You watch a flurry of emotions cross his face before he gives you a single, short nod and continues on his journey to the bedroom. You stay right where you are, the opening credits of the K-drama the only sound left in the room to mix with your heavy breathing. Every fibre in your body is telling you to get up and follow him, and the aching between your legs has grown tenfold, but you know you have to be patient. You’re starting to appreciate how much Jeongin holds himself together when he’s in charge, because right now, you have to fight for your life to think about anything other than your throbbing arousal, hot and heavy and straining against the loose sweatpants Jeongin had fallen asleep in.
You wait until the opening credits end, half-watching whatever’s happening on screen just to keep yourself from all of running to the bedroom. The female protagonist is making her love interest coffee (“only I know how he likes it!”) and it’s yet another boring, plain scene that makes you wish you had chosen something that would’ve at least tried to keep your attention. The scene drags on, and on, and on, until you can’t believe how long they’ve spent showing this girl making coffee when clearly it was a different set of hands actually making it when they cut away.
Your patience is up, and you will yourself to take slow, measured steps towards Jeongin’s bedroom. The door is left only slightly ajar, just enough for light to escape and paint a yellow streak up the hallway wall, and open enough that you can quietly peek in without alerting Jeongin of your presence.
Jeongin, who you find is splayed on the bed on his back, one hand lazily playing with your nipple and the other slipped down between his legs, circling the rim of your entrance gently. He’s breathing heavily, the way you breathe when your arousal is out of control, and he’s dripping, soaking the sheets below him with the evidence of his arousal. He lets out a little whimpered sound, choked, like he’s trying to hide that he’s touching himself. He stops for just long enough that you hold your breath, keeping yourself silent, and he seems content with the quiet, because he goes back to applying pressure right where he needs it.
“Please.” He whimpers, and his eyes roll back when he finally presses a finger into his entrance.
You let him play with your body a bit, watching with interest as he discovers the same thing you did last night - no matter how good it feels, it’s not enough. Your fingers aren’t quite the same as Jeongin’s, and you can tell he’s made that same discovery as he writhes, trying to buck his hips into his fingers to change the angle. He slaps his free hand over his mouth as a sob claws its way out, muffling the sound into his palm as he tries (and fails) to press the sweet spot nestled inside of him.
You knock twice against the doorframe to grab his attention, and his head snaps to the door, fingers still knuckle deep inside of him. He has the decency to look embarrassed, flush spreading down his chest as he holds stock still, like that will save him from having disobeyed your orders.
“Strange…” you say, words hanging heavy in the air, “I thought I told you to not touch yourself. And yet here you are, spread out on the bed like a needy little thing, fingers shoved in your greedy hole. Sorry, did hyungie keep his sweet boy waiting? Took so long that now you’re a naughty little thing instead?”
When the word “hyungie” slips out of your mouth, Jeongin can’t help the whine that tears out of his throat. He’s always a little self-conscious of the age thing, especially as the youngest member of the group, but something about you saying it, looking him down with his own darkened eyes, makes him clench around his too-small fingers and whine. He likes the way the word makes him feel smaller than you, and even though he wouldn’t call you anything but “jagi” normally, the idea of calling you his hyung right now, when you’re trapped in his boyish frame, makes his mouth water and his head spin.
He also appreciates that you’re still calling him a boy, like you knew calling him anything else would spiral him out of the scene. He’s still Jeongin, even trapped in your body, and while you seem to be enjoying playing into your role as “him”, something about still feeling himself in your body feels important to him. He doesn’t know how you read that on him, but he supposes he’s been rather obvious with how he’s feeling right now, so perhaps it’s practically written in bold marker across his forehead.
It doesn’t matter, really none of it does, because right now, you’re his hyung and he’s just your little impatient dongsaeng, a dongsaeng who was bad and didn’t follow your rules.
“Hyungie.” He whines, unable to say anything else.
You coo, slipping into the room and clicking it shut behind you. The click! of the lock makes Jeongin shiver on the bed, and you stalk over to him, like a predator sizing up its prey. He imagines, for a moment, you doing this while back in your own body, making him feel impossibly small even though he wouldn’t be smaller than you. The idea makes him leak more, but he doesn’t have time to think about the implications of his dirty thoughts, because your hand is finding his wrist and yanking his fingers out of him. He whimpers at the emptiness, hole clenching around nothing, hips bucking off the bed uselessly to chase the feeling of his fingers. It wasn’t enough, but at least it was something, and he weakly tries to shake you off.
He makes an aroused sound in his throat when he realizes he’s weaker than you like this, the muscles he’s spent years honing no longer his own and being used to hold him down. It’s so insanely attractive that you could just use him however you wanted right now and he wouldn’t be able to stop you, and he wishes he could tell you that, but his tongue feels like lead in his mouth. Instead, he just moans out, a sound that he hopes sounds like a plea.
“What do you need, jagi? Hyungie can’t help you if you don’t tell them,” you hum, letting go of his wrist now that his fingers are out of his needy hole.
“Hyungie.” He sobs, eyes wide and glassy.
It seems to be all he can say, because he whines uselessly again, pout on his lips as he reaches for you. You would tease him, but you can tell he’s in an unfamiliar headspace, so you let his hands explore. His fingers come to tangle with the loose shirt you woke up in, and he tugs on it until you get the memo.
“You want this off?” you ask, and he nods fervently, a grateful look on his face when you recognize what he wants.
Your fingers come to play with the hem of the shirt, but you don’t pull it off just yet. Instead, you hum like you’re thinking, and he makes a questioning sound.
“But jagi, you were breaking the rule I set for you when I came in,” you say, tilting your head to stare him down, “I don’t know if you deserve my shirt off.”
It’s an empty threat - you’re two seconds away from tearing all of your clothes off and pressing him into the sheets - but he takes it seriously, tears lining his waterline as he tugs a little harder on your shirt.
“Please, I’ll be good, I promise, jus’-” he heaves, a shaky breath as he tries to hold himself together, “Need you. Need you, hyung, need it, please-”
You pull the shirt over your head and his hands fall away to let you, eyes roaming the expanse of his own chest. He understands why you thought this was kind of hot, because that was you in his body. Sure, it was kind of weird looking himself in the eye while he was getting off, but he could ignore that because he knows that you’re the one making him feel like this. You’re the one who’s using his body to make him leak, to make his hole clench around nothing from just looking at you.
“More?” He says, hopeful, but you shake your head.
“I’m already spoiling you, letting you get what you want so easily,” you respond, tossing the shirt off who knows where before sliding on the bed, “Plus, I think hyung deserves to get what they want too, hm?”
He nods quickly, though his legs try to press back together when you force them open with your hands. He whimpers again when he finds that he can’t press them back together, and you guide yourself to be laying between his legs, staring at your own hole with what feels like morbid curiosity. You’ve never seen it from this angle, sans the videos that Jeongin sometimes takes while the two of you get freaky, and you let spit pool on your mouth before spitting directly on it. He shivers when you do, and you take that as you sign to lean in, licking a fat stripe up his entrance, revelling in the way it makes him cry out.
“Ooooh…” he wails, legs trying to twitch closed as your tongue dips into his entrance. It already feels so much better than the fingers that he shoved into himself earlier, when the ache between his legs had gotten to be too much. Your tongue knew exactly how to curl inside of him, exploring with a kind of curiosity that had his head falling back into the sheets, a whine slipping out of his throat without his permission. He tries to bring a hand up to cover his mouth, but one of your hands drops from his thigh and grabs it, stopping him in his tracks.
“Want to hear you fall apart for me,” you say, the vibration of your words against his entrance making him dizzy, “Don’t muffle your sounds. Let hyung hear you.”
He thinks he tells you he won’t, but he feels almost floaty now, and his mouth doesn’t feel like it’s his own anymore. All he can do is babble and cry as you slip a finger in alongside your tongue, and oh. You can reach so much deeper than he could earlier, and you know exactly how to curl it to press against the spot inside of him that has fireworks exploding behind his eyes. He hears a scream, pitchy and needy, and realizes that it came from him. He hiccups, body struggling to understand the pleasure that you’re bringing him so easily.
You know he has to be so worked up right now, the residual arousal from yesterday building up and bleeding into something new. When his thighs start to shake around your head and his moans get shorter and more breathy, you pull back. Your own taste lingers on your tongue, and you’re surprised by how it tastes a little sweeter than you thought it would. You lean forward to muffle the unhappy sound Jeongin was making at the loss of your touch with your mouth, capturing your own lips in a kiss. In the process, you’ve brought your hips forward, and your own straining arousal presses against his heat, making the both of you groan. You buck your hips down, grinding into his once, twice, before pulling away completely, backing up to stare at him.
“Tell me you want this,” you pant out, brain fuzzy from the taste of your own arousal and the weight of the cock between your legs, “Tell me how bad you need hyung.”
“Hyung, hyungie, need it,” he whimpers, teeth catching his lower lip again as he gives you what you imagine is meant to be puppy dog eyes, “I’m so empty. Won’t you fill me up? Make me feel good? I’ll be so good for you, please, wanna feel you in me, want it so bad, please hyungie?”
You groan, the sound rumbling deep in your chest, and fumble with the waistband of your underwear and sweatpants just enough to yank it down below your arousal. His cock isn’t necessarily thick, but the curve of him has him pressing into your sweet spot perfectly, and you’re excited for him to feel the overwhelming pleasure. It slaps against your stomach as it springs out, a wet sound from how much you were leaking into his underwear.
“Hold yourself open for me, won’t you, sweet boy?” You coo, and he blinks up at you, like he can’t believe what you’re asking.
He flushes when you just raise an eyebrow at his hesitation, and with shaky hands, he reaches down with both of his hands, fingers looping below his legs and digging into the fat around his entrance and pulling. It’s obscene, making him spread himself open for you, but you can tell by the way he leaks even more that he likes it. You gather some of the arousal leaking from his heat and use it to coat your cock. You hiss when you fist over it a few times to spread the wetness, realizing just how sensitive his cock is. You’re not sure you’re going to last long inside of him, but that’s okay, because you’re certain he’s probably going to come the second you press your length inside of him. You had been craving it all night, and you’re sure the relief of your entrance finally stretching around Jeongin’s cock will be enough to send him hurtling over the edge to an early release.
You tease over the entrance once, drawing a little circle around the rim with the head of your cock, but you can’t take it anymore either, and slowly guide the tip into him. The heat enveloping your cock is so intense that you have to bite back a moan at how the wet warmth feels around you, lip caught between your teeth as you will yourself to hold back your own release in the favor of tipping Jeongin over the edge.
You know your body can take it, even if it stings for a moment at first, and once his head breaches the rim and your hole swallows greedily around the ridge of it, you take a deep, steadying breath and thrust all the way in. And you were right, because as soon as your cock brushes past that sweet spot nestled inside of him, Jeongin is coming.
“Hyungie!” he sobs as he comes, eyes rolling back and hole clenching tightly around you as he shakes through an orgasm.
You also know your body well enough to know that the burn of overstimulation is such a good feeling, so you don’t stop your thrusting. You keep it nice and slow (you don’t want him to pass out on you), but that doesn’t mean that your thrusts get any shallower, and the deepness of you inside of him has him choking on his own moans. He’s properly crying now, and you reach a hand forward to brush away his tears. You would’ve teased him for crying if he didn’t look absolutely wrecked already, heaving sobs making him shake underneath you as you nail his sweet spot again and again and again.
“‘s too much,” he slurs, though he’s pressing back into every thrust, “Feels so full, ‘s too much, ‘m gonna-hyung, I can’t-”
He sobs again, and you realize with startling clarity that Jeongin is coming again.
“A-again, so soon?” you tease, though the clench of him around you is making it hard to form words, “Is my sweet buh-boy comin’ again? That’s it, keep comin’, hyungie’s got you, there we go.”
Only once he’s ridden out the aftershocks of his second orgasm do you pick up the pace and chase your own release. His arms flail out and settle on your back, fingers digging sharply into the flesh of your back and making you hiss when his nails claw into skin. It hurts, but the pain blends into the pleasure and makes you buck harder into him. He’ll be mad about the marks on his back later, breaking his own “no mark” rule as he claws at you, begging for you to stop and you to keep going.
“‘s too much, hyungie, can’-I can’t fucking-hic! Can’ think, can’t, oooohh, please, more, feels shooo good, ‘m going crazy, hyung!” He’s crying and shaking, body struggling to push into your thrusts and also to pull away.
It’s all too much for you, too, and the coil in your stomach starts to unfurl as you fuck into him erratically, thrusts hard and inconsistent as your body gives in to the arousal in your veins.
“Come again, come on, jagi, I know you can,” you pant out, forehead falling forward to press against his as you both shake, “One more time. O-one more time for hyungie as they paint y-your insides, fuck, ‘m comin’, comin’, it’s comin’-”
Both of you sob something incoherent out as you finally come, and his hole flutters weakly around you as he comes for a third time, body spent and aching as he twitches through his final orgasm of the day. He’s still crying, but it dies down to a sniffle as you both catch your breaths. You lean forward and kiss him, and he kisses you back as much as his fuzzy head will allow, mouth moving sloppily against yours. The kiss is all spit and teeth, and it’s fucking nasty, but neither of you can be bothered to care.
Once you feel like you’re alive again and not floating above the Earth, you carefully pull back and slip out of him, hissing at the way your cum leaks out of his puffy hole onto the sheets when you do. He blinks at you languidly, eyes unfocused as you get up on wobbly legs and throw a shirt and slip the boxers and pants back up so you can get to the bathroom with minimal suspicion. You grab a washcloth, pray it’s Jeongin’s and not Chan’s as you wet it with warm water, and stumble back to the bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
You clean him up with the warm washcloth, careful when you’re rubbing over his over-sensitive entrance, and watch his face carefully as he finally starts to come back down. He looks almost…embarrassed as you slip back onto the bed next to him, pulling him into you and letting him curl into your warmth.
“We never speak of this.” He says into your chest, words muffled against your skin, and you laugh.
“Why? Scared to admit that you liked getting dicked down?” You tease, and he pinches your side, making you jolt.
“Don’t say it like that,” he hisses, and you giggle again, “That shouldn’tve been hot.”
“But it was~” you sing-song, rubbing shapes into his back absentmindedly, “I’m pretty cute when I get all worked up, who would’ve thought?”
“Freak,” he huffs, but he tangles his leg with yours anyways, “But…yeah. It was surprisingly good to be on the receiving end this time.”
“Yeah? Does that mean you’d let me peg you?” You ask, mostly teasing, but his lack of response makes you jump back in, “Oh my god. You’re thinking about it.”
“I am not!” he hisses, though his embarrassed tone gives away that he definitely was, “I just. I don’t know! Don’t think it would be that bad…”
“We’re coming back to this later when Chan figures out how to fix this,” you say, and then smile at him softly when he yawns, “But for now, get some sleep.”
“You really did a number on me,” he hums, curling further into you with a sleepy little sound, “Do you feel like this every time?”
“Mhm,” you hum back, “Do you always almost bust a nut when you put your dick in?”
He groans, pinching you again and making you yelp. “I’m going to sue that stupid Etsy witch.”
“I’m going to send her a bonus, honestly, this was great,” you tease, and he wriggles against you, sending you a look, “C’mon, it was fun! As long as it’s reversible, this was actually a pretty good time. Now I know that you get whiny when you don’t get what you want.”
“You get whiny,” he huffs, “I was just playing my role.”
“...uh huh,” you respond, unconvinced, “and I just called myself hyung just because. When were you gonna tell me you had a hyung kink?”
“I didn’t know I did until today!” he whined back, and dug his fingers meanly into your side, making you tense under him, “Stop being mean and let me rest.”
And that’s how Chan finds the two of you. Curled up on the bed, Jeongin’s body half-dressed and wearing the shirt that you were wearing earlier, and yours completely naked on top of him. There’s a blanket covering just enough of you to hide your intimate parts from Chan, but heat still rushes to his cheeks as he clears his throat, calling out to the two of you.
Jeongin (you, he supposes, trapped in Jeongin’s body) looks up at him blearily, blinking slowly as he takes in Chan.
“What’s up?” he (you?) responds, giving Chan a small smile. “Did’ya figure it out?”
“It’ll wear off in 24 hours from the casting, which she said she did at five am this morning,” he stammers out, trying very hard not to acknowledge what he’s seeing with his eyes right now, “S-so that’s good! It’ll be, uhm, fixed by tomorrow. Anyways-”
“Tell him that if he wants to join next time he needs to wait until we switch back,” you (Jeongin, he guesses) say from your place across Jeongin’s chest, “I couldn’t take that fucking monster he has, I’d die.”
“Oh, and I could??” Jeongin(?) responds, “Sorry Chan. He’s just mad that I made him see god-”
“Don’t tell my hyung that!” You(?) wail, sitting up and making the blanket slip further down your body.
Chan pretends not to stare at your bare skin.
“Mhm, say that again, reminds me how you were begging for ‘more, hyungie-’”
“I will kill you.”
“Anyways!” Chan says, cheeks red and eyes trying very hard to focus on just your guys’ faces, “I’m leaving! Glad this was fixed, goodbye!”
You’ve never seen Chan run so fast out of a room in his life. He slams the door behind him (something he would never do) and you can hear the way he bolts off to the bathroom. You laugh, flicking Jeongin’s forehead.
“He’s never going to look either of us in the eyes ever again,” you say, though you do have to admit the look on his face was probably worth it, “Can’t believe you’d tease him like that. Also, don’t just show him my naked body without my permission.”
“Like you haven’t been teasing him for three months now,” Jeongin retorts, rolling his eyes as he settles back against you, “I just needed to give him a little push.”
“You’re evil.”
“You love it.”
You can’t deny that, and as you both start to drift back off again, you thank the stars that the stupid Etsy witch could actually do magic. Otherwise, you would never know that your boyfriend had a secret sub in him, and that you had a secret dom, just waiting to play. You’ll probably be back in your own body soon, but you wonder how mad Chan would be if you just so happened to buy this spell again…
You suppose that’s a question for tomorrow. For now, you just settle into the sheets and let the sweet call of sleep overtake you again.
I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated ♡
