#!bodyswap

[tetsuwan-atom]

@green-x-reaper​

Continued from here.

"Yomi.. you know I'm not going to be doing that in this body!" He had to admit being poked in the...booba.. felt a little awkward. He's not used to this. Clearly. Plus not only that, he knew full well that food not only was going to taste bad, but... well... he wasn't going to risk it.

Yet, at the same time, a thought came to him... a grin in addition at that.

“You... on the other hand...”

[assassinbugs]

idc if it's not a person. if your icon is a sunrise, you're a sunrise now.

poll about swapping with prev's icon here

[reichurine]

bodyswap au but a bit of a sad take oops, pt3

pt2 here

[hellspawnmotel]

I dont need to ask why mona calls you babygirl. I know already

[possessedmen]

The Spell of Desire

In the dim light of the evening, Ezra, a reserved art history major, returned to his university dorm room, his mind preoccupied with his unrequited feelings for his roommate, Brandon. Brandon was the epitome of a college jock—muscular, charismatic, and, to Ezra's knowledge, straight. Their shared living space was a constant reminder of what Ezra couldn't have.

As Ezra entered, he froze at the sight before him. There, sprawled on his bed, was Brandon, or so he thought, in all his naked glory. The room was silent except for the soft hum of the air conditioner, and Brandon's usual confident demeanor seemed replaced by a strange vulnerability.

"Brandon, what the hell?" Ezra managed, his voice a mix of shock and intrigue.

The man on the bed shifted, sitting up with a look of flustered confusion. "Hey, Ezra, uh, I was just... I thought I'd surprise you. You know, with a, um, prank. Yeah, a prank," he said, his voice not quite matching Brandon's usual deep timbre. It was higher, more nervous.

Ezra raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "A prank? Since when do you prank me by getting naked on my bed?"

"Well, you know, I've been feeling a bit adventurous lately. Wanted to spice things up around here. Plus, it's hot, and I thought, why not cool off a bit?" The faux-Brandon chuckled awkwardly, trying to mimic the easy laugh of the jock.

Ezra couldn't help but let his gaze linger over the body that was supposed to be Brandon's. There was something off, something not quite right in the way he moved, the way he spoke. "You're acting weird, Brandon. What's really going on?"

"Okay, okay, you got me. I'm not Brandon. I'm Theo. Theo from your literature class. I... I used this old spell book I found in the library. I swapped bodies with Brandon because I've been crushing on you for ages. I wanted to be close to you, to... to see if you felt the same."

Ezra's eyes widened, the pieces falling into place. "You swapped bodies with Brandon? With black magic?"

"Yes, I know it sounds crazy. I'm sorry, I'll reverse it, I just—"

"No, wait," Ezra said, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "If you're going to be Brandon, let's make this believable. What would Brandon say now?"

Theo, still in shock, tried to think on his feet. "Uh, he'd probably say something like, 'Hey, roomie, you caught me. Now, what are you gonna do about it?'"

Ezra chuckled, "That's more like it." He began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned physique slowly, deliberately. "And what would Brandon do next?"

Theo swallowed hard, his borrowed body looking out of place with the expression of a shy nerd. "He'd probably... um, flex a bit, show off, right?" He awkwardly flexed one of Brandon's muscular arms.

"Close, but let's make it more... intimate," Ezra suggested, letting his shirt fall to the floor. He climbed onto the bed, his body close to Theo's, the heat between them palpable. "So, 'Brandon', what do you think of this?"

Theo's eyes followed Ezra's movements, his breathing quickening. "I... I think you look good, Ezra. Really good."

"Shh, just keep being Brandon," Ezra instructed, a playful smirk on his lips as he leaned in, capturing Theo's lips in a kiss that was both exploratory and demanding. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, "What would Brandon say if I kissed him like that?"

Theo, encouraged by Ezra's seduction, began to settle into Brandon's identity. "He'd probably say, 'Damn, Ezra, you're full of surprises. But I like 'em.'" His voice was gaining confidence, mimicking Brandon's casual arrogance.

Ezra laughed softly, his breath warm against Theo's skin. "And what would he do?"

Theo, now more playful, pulled Ezra closer, his hands finding his waist with a newfound boldness. "He'd pull you in like this, and say, 'You wanna play, roomie? Let's play.'"

Ezra let out a low moan, "Good. Now, what would Brandon want next?"

Theo, channeling Brandon's confident, friendly arrogance, whispered, "He'd want you to join him, to make this moment even more real." His voice was steady now, playful and teasing.

Ezra's eyes sparkled with desire. "Is that so? Well, let's not disappoint 'Brandon' then." With a fluid motion, Ezra undid his belt, letting his pants slide off, joining Theo on the bed fully. "What's next, 'Brandon'?"

Theo, feeling the heat of Ezra's body against his own, grinned, "He'd probably say, 'You're making this too easy, Ezra. But I like it.' And then maybe he'd..." Theo hesitated for a moment before continuing with a smirk, "He'd start kissing your neck, right?"

Ezra tilted his head back slightly, giving Theo access, his voice low and seductive, "Go on then, show me how 'Brandon' does it."

With a newfound confidence, Theo leaned in, his lips brushing against Ezra's neck, planting kisses that were firm and teasing, just as Brandon might do. He felt the thrill of embodying the jock's persona, the playful arrogance coming naturally now. "You like that, huh, Ezra?" Theo asked, his voice now a perfect mimic of Brandon's casual, cocky tone.

Ezra chuckled, his voice a soft moan, "Yeah, I do. What’s next Brandon?"

Theo's hands roamed over Ezra's back, pulling him closer with a confident grip. "I'd probably want to feel more of you, to make sure you're as into this as I am." His fingers traced the line of Ezra's spine with a deliberate slowness, savoring the reaction he elicited.

Ezra, feeling the shift in Theo's demeanor, whispered, "And what would you say if we went further?"

Theo, fully immersed in Brandon's identity, smirked, "Finally, took you long enough, man. Let's see what you've got." His tone was playful, almost challenging, as he watched Ezra's hands move to the blanket covering him.

Ezra smiled, his hands moving to pull the blanket away, revealing Theo fully. "Then let's not keep 'Brandon' waiting." As the blanket fell, Ezra took a moment to appreciate the view, his eyes dark with desire. "You look good, 'Brandon'. Really good."

"You know, Ezra, you've always been too fucking quiet for your own good," Theo said, his voice a low, teasing growl that was unmistakably Brandon's. "Let's see if we can make you scream tonight."

Ezra, his heart racing with anticipation, looked up at Theo with a mix of excitement and surrender. "Show me then, 'Brandon'."

Theo smirked, the cocky grin that was so characteristic of Brandon spreading across his face. He leaned down, his lips capturing Ezra's in a kiss that was commanding, leaving no room for doubt about who was in charge. His hands roamed over Ezra's body with purpose, guiding him to lie back on the bed.

With a fluid motion, Theo positioned himself above Ezra, his movements confident and assured. "You ready for this, roomie? 'Cause I'm gonna fuck you like you've never been fucked before," he said, his voice dripping with playful arrogance and a vulgar edge.

Ezra nodded, his breath hitching as he felt Theo's presence so close, so dominant. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Theo, now fully embracing the role of Brandon, didn't hesitate. He took Ezra's hands, pinning them gently above his head, his gaze intense. "Good, because I'm not holding back, you little slut," he whispered, his tone a mix of promise and challenge.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, the rustle of sheets, and the low, appreciative moans from Ezra as Theo explored his body with a deliberate slowness, savoring each reaction. Theo's touch was firm, his movements those of someone who knew exactly what he wanted, and right now, what he wanted was Ezra.

As Theo prepared to take the lead, he maintained eye contact, ensuring Ezra was with him every step of the way. "You're gonna love this, Ezra," Theo said, his voice confident, as he positioned himself.

Ezra, caught in the throes of desire, could only nod, his body responding eagerly to Theo's dominance. The moment was charged with an electric intensity as Theo, embodying Brandon's assertiveness and vulgar charm, began to move with a rhythm that was both commanding and raw.

Their connection deepened with each thrust, each movement a testament to Theo's complete immersion into Brandon's identity. Ezra's moans grew louder, his hands gripping the sheets as Theo took him to heights of pleasure he hadn't known before.

"You like that, huh, you dirty boy?" Theo teased, his voice a husky whisper in Ezra's ear, maintaining the playful arrogance that had become his second nature. "Tell me how much you fucking love it."

"I... I love it," Ezra managed between gasps, his body arching into Theo's with every motion. "You act like him so well, Theo. You've made him so fucking edgy, and I love it."

As they reached the peak of their passion, Theo's confidence never wavered, his control over the situation absolute. The culmination of their encounter was explosive, leaving them both breathless and satisfied, as Theo came inside Ezra with a groan that was all Brandon's vulgar satisfaction.

In the quiet that followed, Ezra turned to Theo, his eyes soft with affection. "You know, if you could really stay as Brandon, I wouldn't mind at all. You could stay like this forever."

Theo chuckled, still in character, playing up the confusion with an ironic twist. "Stay as Brandon? What are you talking about, man? I am Brandon, you idiot. Always have been," he replied with a smirk, his tone playful yet convincing in its irony.

Then, as he lay there, still inside Ezra, Theo added with a mix of sincerity and vulgarity, "But you know what, Ezra? Your hole makes me crazy like no girl ever did. Fucking you, it's... it's something else, man."

Ezra laughed, the warmth of the moment enveloping them. "Right, 'Brandon', right. But seriously, you're incredible like this."

Theo, or 'Brandon', pulled Ezra closer, their bodies still intertwined. "Well, then, let's keep this going, roomie. Because I'm not going anywhere." And with that, they drifted into a contented sleep, the boundaries of their reality blurred by the magic of the night, the playful deception of identity, and the unique intimacy they had discovered.

[mr2swap]

Swap syndrome 2: armpit addiction.

-damn heat… -

The time on my cell phone showed 2:05, the idiot Travis had made me wait but in a way that made me happy I would have to charge him $50 more for being late.

Today was a very fucking day at the gym, it was so hot that I had to change my shirt, but still the rancid aroma of sweat coming from my hairy armpits filled the interior with my car, I was in the same parking lot of the gym where it is only A couple of minutes had left a huge sweat stain on the floor.

But despite everything I loved my new life, after the great shift and finding myself in this boy's hot and muscular body, from the beginning I knew this was a good thing, when I woke up in Travis's bedroom and looked down to see two juicy pecs, a sculpted six-pack and long, hairy legs, the first thing I did was take out my huge cock that was hidden among a leafy bush of hair and give myself the best handjob of my entire life.

It had been a little over a year since that moment, I quickly got used to Travis' life, kept his muscles big and strong and all thanks to his tiny YouTube channel where he showed all his exercise routines, but that was all wasted talent for Travis' glorious, beautiful body.

I no longer had my college degree or anyone to turn to, yet I was able to easily make money from all these fags, who wanted to sleep with me and this body.

Still not in the same city where I used to live, I watched the news and learned everything that had been happening in the world and that the real Travis was out there in my tired, flabby 40-year-old office worker body.

A tapping on my car window brought me out of my thoughts, it was the real Travis I grimaced in disgust as I looked at my old face once more in front of me, I looked at the time on my phone once more, and now it was 2:07 that now meant $70.

The door of my car and Travis jumped inside it, his first action was to completely inhale the disgusting smell inside the car, after that he lunged at me trying to reach my armpits, After that he lunged at me trying to reach my armpits, but in one movement I moved his old, ugly face away from me.

-You know the rules Travis, first I want the bills-

He extended one of my hands while he took out his wallet and extended a small wad of cash. In one quick movement, I snatched the bills from him and began to count them one by one while a nervous expression formed on the real Travis's face.

-Are you fucking with me? Only $500? -

There was nothing left of the old confident Travis, the confident, outgoing boy had disappeared, in his place there was only a perverted faggot who paid me for a few minutes of my attention due to swap syndrome. When we swapped our bodies, I thought I would get rid of him to always, but this pathetic middle-aged man was clinging to me like a leech trying to get close to me with his twisted homosexual intentions. I didn't really care what he did with my old body, but I thought I could make some money a month by squeezing every penny of this situation.

-Please! Just, just 5 minutes! I had to pay this month's rent and my landlord told me that if I was late another month he would throw me out on the street.-

I rolled my eyes as Travis the bitch kept giving me stupid excuses about how hard it was to find a good job now that he was a middle-aged man and he was tired all the time from working so much.

-Okay, just shut your fucking mouth.-

I put my hand on his head and pushed him into one of my hairy pits and choked his nose with the sour sweat that was collecting in my armpits. The initial struggle quickly turned into pleasure, I could feel Tyler's breathing slow. He shook until he filled his lungs, his mouth savored the curly hairs of my armpit and sucked up the small drops of sweat with his dirty tongue as if he had crossed a desert.

Tyler's small hands slid to his crotch and he began to frantically massage his cock over his pants, occasionally Tyler would move away from my armpit to get some air and lick my muscular arms with his disgusting sticky tongue, I watched as they passed minutes on my cell phone and before 5 minutes had passed, Tyler's small wrinkled cock soiled his pants with semen.

I pushed Tyler away and a satisfied smile formed on Tyler's face, his chest rising and falling as he tried to recover from the addictive experience he had just experienced, a few hairs from my armpit had stuck to his face and a stain of sweat had formed on the collar of his shirt.

I didn't have time for this, this experience had made me horny, I wanted to unload the enormous amount of cum that wanted to escape from my huge hairy balls, but the disgusting man next to me was not worthy of this...nor did I have another $500

I extended one of my long, muscular arms and opened the door of my luxurious sports car.

-Now get out bitch, see you next week-

As soon as I clean every trace of Tyler from my car, I'll call some of my girls, so I can fill their pussies with my beautiful, hot seed.

This is a second installment of the swap syndrome story, but the only thing they share in common is the same syndrome that is spreading among those affected by the great shift, you can see more by visiting my Ko-fi page:

Hello, if you liked this story, and you want more, you can take a look at my new Ko-Fi page to see my most recent stories, see my new stories and support me to continue creating this hot content.

[samsm2mstories]

Gym dudes

I always love to take over a young gym dude after they have finished a long workout. This guy Bradley was ripe for me today. He didn't feel me slip into him as he was so focused on taking selfies for his socials.

It only took me a good 30 seconds as it turns out his smarts were low, he was the typical gym rat with barely and IQ, all his money comes from his private OF which is now mine to enjoy.

His memories were basic, his tastes were basic. His entire life was easy to shape around my needs and personality, I could make an absolute fortune from being in his body.

I felt so well pumped from that gym session. Sorry it was your last and the first of many for me, Bradley. Don't worry, I'm going to consume your soul soon so I will become you permanently, no need to cry like a bitch. You gym studs were born to serve me, in a few years I will hop into a young stud again but I'm now Bradley for a few years.

Right, let's go home and check out my body in full and get some more selfies for OF. It's my main income now, so I got to keep this going.

Easy life! Gym and OF, just need to find some guys to fuck around with now!

[glassedplanets]

sketches from fic i've written!

idk if i'm a particularly visual writer or not... i guess it's a maybe? i try to visualize the scene or setting particularly if it's complex just to make sure it Makes Sense and then that sometimes leads to me having a very specific sort of Scene™ in mind. it's so weirdly difficult to draw things based on what i've written bc sometimes the Writing Scene just doesn't go the way i would draw it, and/or i feel like my skill level isn't quite there yet........ but that's the challenge!!! and the more i do this, the better i get. or maybe i just get braver. i guess it's the same thing to a degree 🤷‍♂️

in any case:

1. the blood of the covenant (ye olde wano aftermath)

2. in stitches (law's terrible horrible no good very bad series of realizations)

3. swordbearer (hiyori wants to fuck around but ends up finding out) (this statement entirely misrepresents the tone of the fic)

4. bodyswap AU (what it says on the tin, Now With 25% More Smut)

[antimonyandthyme]

body swap, for carcar or even landoscarcar?

He wakes up, disoriented. It’s not even light out yet, why the fuck is he awake? His throat’s a little sore, his hips are a little sore. Jeez. Didn’t even bother to put some pants on last night, and did he chafe his ass on like, the sheets or something? Wow. He’s sore all over. A settled, pleasant kind though, a muscle ache too deep for him to reach. Maybe he can skip the gym today, hop on a stream, relax. Grab Carlos for a round of golf before he leaves, if he’s not too busy mapping Monaco on his bike.

He turns to his left. Claps a hand over his mouth, shrieks into it.

Like, he’s groggy. He doesn’t have the remnants of a disaster headache, so he’s not hungover. But it’s early, and he never wakes up early. Must be why he’s hallucinating.

When he can bring himself to look again, Carlos is still there. Close enough that Lando can hear the air whistling softly through his teeth.

Lando shifts uselessly, stares. That’s Carlos, alright. He’s always been a loud sleeper. Back in their McLaren days, when they’d shared hotel rooms, Lando had taken voice recordings to prove to an adamant Carlos that he snored. The memory makes his lips twitch. It’s nice Carlos looks well-rested. Better than he has in awhile. A pretty trophy will do that for you. If he wants, Lando can choose to waste precious time counting Carlos’s lashes while he figures out what to do. He’ll lose count at probably a hundred.

That’s Carlos, alright.

What were they doing last night? Surely Lando would remember. The party was loud, raucous, the Prince of Monaco victorious here at last. All podium finishers present, fourth place included. Drinking, laughing, cozying up to one another. Carlos and Oscar smiling tentatively at each other after sharing just one couch, animosity seemingly forgotten. The prickly itch crawling under Lando’s skin, until Charles finally manages to bag him a set. The music, beats pounding a tattoo into his brain. He remembers all of that.

Surely he would remember taking Carlos’s clothes off. He’s wanted to for—

Lando slaps both hands onto his cheeks, hard enough to sting. He needs to take a leak.

He squeaks out of the bed, as quietly as he can. Trips over a pair of jeans that look vaguely familiar, rams his toe into the wheel of a suitcase that definitely wasn’t there last night. Finds the bathroom, closes the door with a silent snick.

Fumbles around like a dunce for the light switch, right there where all light switches usually are.

Flicks it on. Shrieks for real this time, without his hands to cover the noise.

It’s a good thing Carlos has always slept like the dead. To be absolutely fucking certain, Lando peeks his head out.

Yep, still asleep. That’s Carlos, alright.

Deep, deep breaths. As deep as he can go without passing out. He returns to the mirror. Feels for his face like it’s a foreign object.

Which it is. Because that’s Oscar Piastri, looking right back at him.

--

He means to start off with something useful. Something like, Hey, do you remember what drugs we were on last night? E? Salvia? Because mate, these are the strangest withdrawal symptoms I’ve ever experienced. Or even something funny, like Haha, now I know what you look like naked. The fans are going to have a field day.

Instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “Why are you sleeping with Carlos?”

“Good morning to you too,” Oscar says, after the longest pause on planet fucking earth.

He didn’t mean for that to sound as sulky as he did. But he’s sore all over, and his lips, which are not his, but Oscar’s, feel extremely kissed, and he definitely does not expect that to make something in his chest twist tighter than a coiled spring.

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

“What did we drink last night?” Oscar says, unsurprisingly choosing to be the level-headed one in this conversation.

“Something bright green, something ocean blue. Dunno. Lost track during the set.”

“Lando,” Oscar says patiently, in Lando’s voice. Which is just all kinds of weird. “Something green, something blue, doesn’t sound all that normal.”

“I knew that DJ couldn’t be trusted.”

The world-weary sigh Lando receives makes his skin prickle with heat. Things have been happening. The car’s gotten faster. From his grandmother to the mechanics, everyone’s been talking about a chance he could pull like magic out of thin air. It’s not his fault he wasn’t paying attention. At the club, or to every encounter Carlos and Oscar had prior to this that has led them here.

“Look, I’m gonna—where are you?”

“In Carlos’s room,” Lando says, rudely, unhelpfully.

“Right. I’ll. I’ll be there in. We’re staying just, two blocks away, right? I’ll be there in ten. Could you. Could you please, just—”

Lando expects him to say something totally condescending. Please just don’t freak out. Please just don’t do anything until I get there, because I’m being responsible and you’re being a baby.

“Just, go back?”

“What?”

“Be next to him, when he wakes up?”

Lando swallows. The acid from yesterday must be making his stomach churn. Oscar—in Lando’s fucking voice, sounds smaller and more hopeful than Lando ever wants to hear himself sound.

“I don’t want him to think.” Oscar stops. Lando can practically see him scrubbing at the back of his neck. “I don’t want him to think I left, or anything like that. Could you—”

Lando hangs up.

The earnestness. The, the audacity.

The phone rings again, and Lando hangs up again, out of pure spite. He paces wildly, in front of the mirror. Each time he turns on his heel he imagines his body morphing back into what’s right. Each turn smacks him with the image that Oscar’s pale, freckled skin turns splotchy red when he’s angry.

What. A useful thing. To know.

It’s been half an hour since he’s woken up. Which means, oh fuck. Fuck. Carlos’s body clock has always been impeccable. Eight, on the dot, he springs out of bed like it’s a wonderful thing being alive at that hour, and then goes and makes coffee without fail. Which means in three, two minutes, Carlos will open his eyes. And, and he’ll be alone in bed.

He’ll be alone. That’ll make Lando feel better, right? Carlos will be alone, and then Oscar will no longer be a problem, and then the itch under his skin will disappear, for good.

Carlos will be alone.

He flicks off the light, slips out of the bathroom. Bangs his toe again on that damned suitcase. Slides under the covers, adjusts himself into a position he hopes might be believable. Head on one hand, face tilted toward Carlos. Body leaning, reaching. Always reaching. Eyes half-closed.

But open enough so that he can see the exact moment Carlos wakes. See that small, relieved smile. See the way Carlos clicks his jaw askew, the way he always does before making a decision. Then feel Carlos run the backs of his knuckles against a face he wishes were familiar.

[juanbodyswapstfs]

Dm if interested in body swap roleplay!

[assassinbugs]

you still swap even if it's not a person. if it's a chair you're a chair 👍

poll about swapping with you own icon here

[reichurine]

had a thought and it's called bodyswap au

pt2 here

pt3

[kenas-artstuff]

Ah yes, my two favourite characters... Kitty D. Lawfy and Trafalgar Lu

[casdeans-pie]

I saw someone say that this could be the Dean and Cas body swap episode and now I can't unsee it

[dystopia-fantasy]

18 at Christmas

[crocrubies]

stitch by stitch