#it's called rolling with difficulty | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nochepsicodelica · 7 months ago

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"Really?" Toji asks, nudging your shoulder to wake you up, when he gets a good look at your back turned to him. His voice is slightly raspy with sleep, low in volume from its lack of use.

"Mm..." you hum in response, eyes shut as you try to ease back into slumber. You're in a curled position, your limbs wrapped around one of your extra pillows.

"Really?" Toji repeats, pawing at your shoulder, again.

"Yes, Toji," you say, quietly, not understanding what he's talking about, but agreeing just so that you can get back to sleep.

"Be serious, ma. Really?"

"What?" You ask, your tone somewhat laced with irritation, now.

It goes quiet for a few seconds, and then out of nowhere you hear the sheets rustling and the bed feels lighter. You're thinking there's no way he's so upset that he's leaving the room to sleep on the couch. He's the one who seemingly didn't want to cuddle, so you made do with what you had and grabbed a pillow.

You're snapped out of your attempt to go back to sleep when you feel your pillow trying to be yanked out of your arms.

"Let go of it," Toji mutters.

"What-" you grunt as you pull back and attempt to keep the pillow in your grasp. "What are you doing? Get back in bed, Toji." You hold on as tight as you can to the pillow that is slowly being torn out of your hands. "You're not gonna like when I let go and you're flung towards the wall."

"And you're not gonna like the punishment you earn if that happens. Let go of the pillow. Now."

You stare Toji down, holding your own against him. You know this isn't all of his strength and that he can easily rip the pillow out of your clutches, if he really wanted to, but like a dog with something it shouldn't have in its mouth, you're unwilling to do what he says.

"Listen up, doll, if you don't let go in the next five seconds, you're in for it."

"You're the one who pushed me away."

"Five."

"I need to hug something to sleep comfortably."

"Four."

"It's a pillow, Toji," you say, incredulously.

"Three."

"You're gonna take away my source of comfort?"

"Two."

"Toji."

"One. Let go."

"Oh my god," you groan, irritatedly. "Fine." You release the pillow, allowing Toji to take it away. You watch in disbelief as he throws it at the door so you can't get it without leaving the bed. You huff and scoot as close as you comfortably can to your end of the bed without falling off, before he returns to his side.

"Geeet back here." An arm is thrown over your waist, dragging you closer towards the center of the bed, until your back meets his front and his legs are tangled with yours. "Where are you going, huh? Still chasing after that pillow?"

"All of a sudden you wanna be close to me?" You scoff, in disbelief.

"So much attitude," he murmurs. His hand goes under your shirt, gliding up your warm skin to rest on your tummy. "Need me to give it to you all seven days, now?"

"No," you grumble.

"Well, that's what it's sounding like, to me." A kiss is planted on your shoulder. "Fix that tone, mama."

"You're so unfair. You're the one who didn't want to be held, but as soon as you noticed that I wasn't holding you, you took away my source of comfort. What did you want me to do, Toji?"

"I didn't even push you away, I rolled away in my sleep. It doesn't count."

You just hum in response, no longer in the mood to bicker about something so trivial when you could be working on getting back to sleep. A few seconds of silence go by, a spark of tension formed due to your lack of words.

"Ma?" He calls, barely pinching your soft, warm skin.

You sigh, blinking your eyes open. "What?"

"You mad?" His hand flattens on your tummy, rubbing slowly, as he waits for you to respond.

"No," you say, quiet and icy, even in its subtlety.

"That's a lie," Toji says, chuckling. "Come on, doll. What's got you all hot?"

It's hard not to melt into his touch. The kisses he presses to your shoulder only add on to the difficulty.

"Doesn't matter," you say, still trying to remain stoic.

"Yeah, it does. Now, tell me," he insists. "You're really gonna make me beg at almost two in the morning?"

"I was sleeping, and you woke me up 'cause you were butthurt over me hugging a pillow. There. Does that satisfy you?" You respond, and Toji has the audacity to laugh. You want to laugh too, but your stubbornness and pride will not easily allow you to.

"Poor baby," he coos, a mocking lilt to his tone. "You wanna tell me how to make it better?"

"You're an ass," you bite, no sharpness in your tone whatsoever.

"Ooh, I can hear that pout. You want a kiss? 'Cause I can give you one," he whispers, in your ear.

"Shut up," you mumble, trying not to give away the curling of your lips.

"You want a baby in here?" He asks, gently pressing into your stomach with his index finger.

"No! What?" You say, your giggles finally beginning to surface.

"Gotcha. Made you laugh," he says, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. He presses a kiss to the area before squeezing you in his arms, tight enough to make you groan until he eases up. "Now, tell me how to make it better. Come on, ma. It's not good to go to sleep mad."

You sigh, not wanting to argue with this annoying, yet, charming man, anymore. "Just help me get back to sleep," you mumble.

"Oh, I can do that," he says, a low chuckle homing into your ears. His hand lifts your shirt up more, aiming to get more access to your chest.

"Not like that, you perv!" You chide, pinning his hand on your mid-center. "Can you do that thing you always do?" You guide his hand down, until it rests just above your navel. He knows what you mean, and if this is what it takes for you to not be mad at him, he'll do it.

"You're like a baby that needs to be soothed to sleep," Toji murmurs, as he begins caressing your tummy, drawing little shapes on your skin that fuel your tiredness.

You huff out a laugh. "Acting like you don't drool and snore the second I start playing with your hair when you lay your head on my chest."

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mattsmedusa · 6 months ago

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✎ 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐟 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐳𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✮ 𝐜.𝐬

"you’re so warm." chris whispered in your ear as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you back against him. the slight movement made his cock go deeper in your slippery cunt, eliciting a small quiet moan from you.

you hissed in a deep breath, trying not to lose your composure as you typed on your computer, telling your curious colleagues that due to technical difficulties you were unable to turn on your camera and microphone.

"chris, don’t move so much," you sighed before adding, "and stop purposely going deeper—" your hands fisted on your keyboard, eyes closing shut and eyebrows knitting together for a moment when he did the opposite of what you asked for and pulled you down more.

chuckling in a raspy voice as his hands caressed your thighs, his fingers drawing delicate patterns on your skin. "you said you’d just keep it in there!" you whisper-yelled, and even though you had your mic turned off, you couldn’t help but glance at the mic icon every now and then to see if it’s still off.

"well, can’t really blame me when you’re suckin’ me in like that." he whispered, nipping your earlobe and sending shivers down your spine. his left arm wrapped around your waist from behind and his right hand snaked up and groped your breast. "so soft," he cooed, grinning as he laid his cheek on your shoulder.

"how’d i get into this?" you mumbled to yourself, rolling your eyes when he squeezed your breast repeatedly. "these are so squishy ma, can i take your shirt off? wanna feel ’em."

"you are feeling them, i’m in a meeting call chris—" "please? pretty please? please, please, please?" he cut you off, playfully repeating pleas, laughing to himself afterwards.

"alright— fine, just--just stop moving so much, i can’t focus." chris grinned triumphantly as he lifted the hem of your thin square neck shirt, pulling it up until it was scrunched up over your tits. he hummed happily as he pulled your bra down, letting your breasts spill out.

"mhm, love your tits baby, so beautiful." he said in a sing-song tone as his hands went up to fondle your bare tits.

✩ 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✩

before you knew it, you were getting your brains fucked out by chris. your moans were uncontrollable, your hands gripping anything it could. the mic had turned on due to your hand accidentally grazing the button while trying to find something to hold onto as leverage.

yeah... tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.

୨୧

𝐰𝐜. 𝟒𝟏𝟕

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @lypsiiii @sydneyylainn @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover @matts-sidepiece @hearts4sturniolo @ivysturnss @bumbl3b34 @sophand4n4 @sagesturns

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caliburn-not-calculator · 1 year ago

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Quick snippet from the next House a Habit chapter!

They are soft and Maxim is trying to court be a good friend

"I see you've finally decided to come down and say hello," VR-LA teased, before continuing on more softly, "I have been missing you I have to admit."

Maxim winced, shifting where he had awkwardly stopped a few feet away. "Ah, well, my apologies. It is not to avoid you though. Please do not think that. I have merely been occupied with... well, a few things. But you're right, I have perhaps been a bit neglectful, now and in general, though I hope to make up for that." He glanced down at what was in his hands, fiddling with it for a moment before closing a fist around it and gesturing for VR-LA to step forward. "Here, I have something for you. It is not much but I hope it is to your liking."

#rolling with difficulty #rwd #vr-la rwd #maxim rwd #professionals rwd #fanfic #next chapter is called Transactions (Not Gifts)

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ebodebo · 4 months ago

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no thoughts...just simon discovering you sitting on the grimy curb outside a club and pretending to be your boyfriend bc of unsavory men being nasty towards you. (tw: men)

A chill lingered in the air as you sank down onto the curb, the cold concrete pressing against your thighs while your short dress bunched up, revealing even more skin.

It wasn’t the wisest choice, considering you were just inches away from the road, but your aching feet and pounding head begged for a break.

And not only did you feel a mess, but you also looked it too.

Your eyes were bloodshot, and your eyelids feel heavy and sticky, weighed down by smudged eyeliner, mascara, and whatever glittery eyeshadow you had tossed on in a rush.

What had once been a carefully styled updo was now a tangled mess, with strands of hair falling haphazardly around your face.

You couldn’t be bothered to put it back up; even the thought of managing it made your head spin more than it already did.

Your friends were off somewhere, probably with people you didn’t know, and honestly, you didn’t care anymore.

You just needed to escape that stuffy club.

The lights were flashing so intensely and rapidly that it felt like you might faint.

Now, here you are, sitting on the grimy curb, your mind racing with anxiety.

You had hoped the alcohol would dull your worries, but all it did was amplify them.

Stressing about the rent that you can’t afford this month.

The difficulty of finding and keeping a decent boyfriend.

And let’s not forget about your terrible job that pays next to nothing!

On top of it all, your mother won’t stop calling and complaining about her new boyfriend, who you can’t stand.

“What a pretty girl you are,” a low voice calls out from behind.

His words feel distant, like an echo floating in your mind.

You turn your head slightly to catch a glimpse of the guy, vape in hand and hoodie pulled up, flanked by two friends grinning widely.

You roll your eyes, turning your head away, choosing not to engage with him or offer any response.

"Hey! I’m talking to you," the same voice calls out, its tone growing more assertive.

You turn your head again; this time, he’s closer than before. "Will you just fuck off?" You groan, your eyes barely hanging open.

"The fuck did you say to me.”

Okay.

Now he is mad.

And usually, you could take care of feeble men.

They touch you; they get a knee straight to their balls.

But, right now, you can’t even walk straight.

Let alone balance and swing your leg.

“Sorry—I,” you sputter, carefully standing and almost falling as he draws nearer.

“Think you can talk to me like that?” He snarls as he moves to stand right in front of you.

You look up at him.

His eyes are dark.

You feel your stomach churn.

"Sweetheart," you hear the deep British, gravelly voice before the man who carries it steps beside you. "Been lookin' for you.”

Your eyes dart to him in an instant.

He’s tall, like really, really tall.

Quite built, and looks intimidating as hell with an ominous mask covering his face.

And…fuck, he’s decked out in black and gray military gear.

You feel an odd sense of security, so you thread your arm through his and tuck yourself into his side.

“You yellin’ at my girlfriend?” His voice is so deep, and raspy.

The guy’s eyes nearly bug out of his head at the sound and sight of the man at your side.

“No, no,” the guy scramble. “I—I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend. I would have never—”

“Shouldn’t do it anyway, you pisshead,” the man next to you spat before turning to face you, voice softening. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m—I’m alright,” your murmur, voice uneven.

The man next to you turns his head to face the guy, his eyes darkening at the sight of you upset. “Get on your knees and apologize to her.”

“Wait, wha—”

“I’ll bash your head in.”

The guy fell to his knees, desperately searching for the right words. “I’m sorry. Fuck—I’m really, really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that; I fucked up. I’m so, so sorry,” he word vomits, voice trembling.

"Thank you," you whisper, your eyes widening in surprise at how readily he complies.

Your gaze drifts down to catch sight of a small friendship bracelet adorning the wrist of the man beside you.

It looked so out of place on him.

The bracelet features a black-and-white pattern of beads, with "Simon" spelled out in gray letters at its center and two skull beads surrounding it.

"Simon," you murmur, simply glancing at the letters without much thought.

His head swivels to you.

“Yeah, baby?” He quickly responds, eyes on you in an instant.

"We should—we should get going," you manage to say, feeling another flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

He nods, his hand lingering near your waist. You shift slightly, allowing your hand to slip into his, where you intertwine your fingers effortlessly.

Simon leans in closer, lowering his head to hover near the guy's ear, and whispers so you can barely catch what he’s saying.

“If you ever yell at my girlfriend, let alone another woman again,” Simon’s voice goes down an octave, low and stern. “I’ll find you and crack every fuckin’ bone in your body.”

The guy's face drains of color as he frantically tries to escape—not just back to his friends, who are just as terrified but well out of reach.

"You’re so…tall," you manage to say, your words coming out a bit slurred.

He lets out a gruff laugh. “Come over here.”

Simon tightly grips your fingers, gently guiding you around the corner and away from the club.

“Shouldn’t be alone,” he utters. “You’re drunk.”

“I know,” you admit, a hint of embarrassment creeping in. “I just needed to get out of that crazy club. It was too bright and too hot and too stuffy!” You let out a dramatic sigh. “I thought the alcohol would help clear my mind, but it only made me more anxious, you know?” You look up at him and shake your head.

“My rent is overdue; I can’t get a stupid boyfriend, and, oh God, my mother,” you continue to ramble; you were drunk, after all. “I’m a mess,” you exhale softly, tears clinging to your lashes.

Had you been crying that whole time?

“Listen,” he urges, hand pressing onto your shoulder. “If you want, you could live with me. Been lookin’ for a roommate. Could be nice,” he adds with a casual shrug.

You sniffle, hand wiping your tears. “You—you would do that for me?” You ask, heart warm from his generosity.

“Eh, sure. Why not?” His tone is relaxed and straightforward.

You’re beaming as you pull him in for a tight hug, burying your face in his abdomen while repeatedly expressing your gratitude.

He doesn’t say anything, but he wears the stupidest grin under that mask.

He wouldn’t tell you, but he was so, so ecstatic at the prospect of you living with him.

He could use a few more friends, and you vowed to ensure he stayed well-fed.

Besides, it certainly didn't hurt that you were a hot little spitfire who had him straining in his cargo pants.

He would hold out for you.

Roommates now, husband and wife later.

author’s note: crazy how he’s the only man ever

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astranauticus · 2 years ago

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Ad astra per aspera

#rolling with difficulty #vr-la rwd #mr-sn rwd #rwd #uhhhh im bad at tagging #anyway ive wanted to draw something with this specific composition for AGES so thanks for the excuse #and also for getting to use that caption #man. i have like a soft spot for that saying cuz its the motto of my sec sch science club #and man i loved that dumb club so much #i was already kinda loving just the 'ship called per aspera' bit but once the whole phrase became relevant? oh boy #unrelated side note but like 4 of my friends from that club later turned out to be specifically trans/nb #(5 if you count myself)#which is. so bloody funny to me #youd think all the queers would end up in theatre or some shit but no! science and math. for some reason #i was like 'i should probably keep polishing this' and then i realised my ipad was at 10% so nevermind. also i have no impulse control #art I made

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misctf · 1 month ago

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Safe Space Spray

Owen picked up his phone and dialed Jake's number as he drove along the winding country road leading to Jake's family cabin. The warm southern sun beat down through the windshield while classic rock played softly from the speakers. After a few rings, Jake answered.

“Well hey there partner!” Jake's cheerful voice came through the speaker. “How far ya'll out?”

“Not too much longer now,” Owen replied, his deep southern drawl rolling through each word, “I reckon 'bout thirty minutes tops. That fishing hole better be swimmin' with catfish like you said!”

“My mama didn’t raise no liar.” Jake replied, his hearty laugh echoing over the phone.

Owen smiled. This was gonna be the best fishin’ trip yet. As the call continued, Owen kept his eyes on the road ahead, the vast expanse of rural landscape stretching out before him. Suddenly, something caught his eye- a small figure standing beside a broken-down vehicle on the shoulder.

“Aw shucks, looks like some fella's car done gone and quit on 'im.” Owen muttered to himself as he slowed his truck, “Jake, I reckon I’ll be by later. I’m gonna see if I can lend a hand.”

Owen pulled his pickup truck over onto the gravelly shoulder behind the stranded vehicle. He removed his hat and ran a hand through his short brown hair and approached the man hunched over the open hood.

“Howdy there! Looks like you're havin' some trouble with your ride. Name's Owen, I'm pretty handy with fixin' things if you need a lendin' hand.” He called out in his friendly drawl.

The stranger, a slender young man with styled blonde hair, whirled around. His eyes widened in surprise and apprehension as he took in Owen's appearance. The twink's hands shook slightly as he reached into his pocket and aimed what looked like a small spray bottle directly at Owen.

“I-I don't want any trouble!” the blonde stammered, his voice high-pitched with anxiety.

Before Owen could react, the twink pressed down on the trigger, unleashing a fine mist across his handsome face and chest. Owen blinked and coughed, shaking his head slightly as droplets hit his face and clothes. It didn’t sting or burn. It felt like water.

“The hell was that for?” Owen demanded, his brow furrowing in confusion and annoyance, “I ain't here to cause you no harm, bud. Just tryin' to help.”

“I-I'm sorry!” The twink squeaked, “Around here, you don't know what kind of people you'll run into.”

Owen sighed heavily, wiping his brow, “Listen here, I understand yer cautious. But I promise you, I mean no ill intent. Let me take a look at yer car, see if I can get 'er runnin' again.”

The blonde hesitated briefly before nodding, “Okay... I guess that would be okay. Thank you.” He stepped aside, allowing Owen access to the vehicle.

As Owen popped the hood, he furrowed his brow in concentration, his large hands working deftly under the hood. However, he found himself growing increasingly clumsy and uncoordinated, fumbling with tools he'd handled with ease a hundred times before.

“I swear...” he muttered, his words coming out slightly slurred, “This oughta be a cinch for me...”

He fumbled with the engine components, his large hands suddenly feeling clumsy and unfamiliar. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to focus. Just then, the twink appeared at his side, holding out a bottled water.

“Here, you must be thirsty after all this work.”

Without thinking, Owen took the bottle and chirped in an impossibly high, effeminate voice, “Thanks sis!”

Owen froze, his eyes widening as the words left his mouth. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he gripped the edge of the car hood for support. Shaking his head, he tried to push the strange moment from his mind.

“Uh, thanks kindly.” he mumbled, taking a long swig of water to cover his embarrassment.

He turned back to the engine, determined to finish the repair quickly so he could be on his way.

With renewed focus (and a touch more difficulty), Owen worked to diagnose and fix the issue. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he stepped back as the engine roared to life.

“There ya go, as good as new!” He grinned at Paul, wiping his hands on a rag.

As Owen straightened up and turned to face Paul fully, he couldn't help but really notice the younger man for the first time. Paul's delicate features, stylish hair, and slim physique suddenly seemed incredibly appealing. Their eyes locked- Paul’s deep blue captivating Owen’s. Owen felt an unfamiliar flutter in his chest and his dick stir ever so slightly in his increasingly tighter jeans.

“You've been an absolute lifesaver.” Paul gushed, flashing Owen a dazzling smile. He stepped closer, the two now the same height. Owen could’ve sworn he had been taller, “If you ever find yourself in the city, call me. I'd love to thank you properly.” He slipped a piece of paper into Owen’s pocket with a playful wink.

Owen felt a flush creep up his neck at the suggestive tone. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure despite the odd sensations still tingling through his body.

“Ah, well, just doin' what any decent fella would do.”

Owen watched as Paul slid gracefully into his car, the movement highlighting the pert curve of his ass. He swallowed thickly, his heart pounding for reasons he couldn't quite explain. As Paul drove away, Owen looked down and saw the discarded can that Paul sprayed him with earlier.

“He must’ve forgotten it.” Owen frowned inspecting the strange bottle, “Safe Space Spray... what in the world...” He chuckled, “I reckon I’ll get it to ‘em when I see ‘em next.” He paused, “What the hell am I thinkin’. I ain’t seein’ him again...”

But he wasn’t sure he could even convince himself. He wanted to see him again... Owen shook his head and placed the can in his pocket before climbing back into his own truck. With a sigh, he reached for the ignition but recoiled at the sight of his hand.

“What in the...”

Owen stared at his hand in shock, noting the slight tremor and how it almost seemed to have lost some of its natural ruggedness. His callouses... gone. His nails... well-manicured. Alarmed, he gripped the steering wheel tightly and peeled out, speeding towards Jake's cabin with an urgency he couldn't explain. As he drove, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he noticed his hair looked shaggier, his facial features softening.

“What in tarnation is happenin' to me?” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly. He tried to rationalize it, blaming stress or exhaustion, but he knew it was something more.

Just then, he squirmed in his seat as his ass inflated, his previously snug jeans straining against the growing mounds. And with each bump in the road, Owen stifled a moan as jolts of unfamiliar pleasure rushed through his groin.

“No, no, no... Oh my GAWD!” He whimpered, cringing at the loss of his rich Southern drawl- replaced now by words colored by a nasally, high-pitched timbre, “Like... this is totally not okay!”

Owen finally arrived at Jake's cabin, tires screeching as he parked haphazardly. He stumbled out of the truck, trying to balance himself given his now fat ass. He can hear Jake outside, gathering wood for a bonfire and he bites his tongue before sauntering towards the door.

“I-I have to get inside... hide this from Jake...” He whimpered, “How... why is this...?” His eyes widen, “The spray!” He squealed, “I need to like... totally wash this off!”

Owen practically sprinted to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. With trembling hands, he began tearing at his clothes, buttons flying as he stripped. He stood naked in front of the mirror, hardly recognizing the reflection staring back at him.

His once broad shoulders had narrowed, his pecs shrinking into perky little mounds with cute pink nipples. Below, his six-pack had melted away, leaving behind a smooth, hairless torso. And between his legs... Owen gasped, covering his mouth as he saw the nub that had once been his proud cock.

“Oh em gee...” He whined, “I'm like... a total twink now!” Tears pricked at his eyes as he reached for the shower knob with slender fingers. Steam billowed out as he stepped under the hot spray, hoping the water might somehow reverse these changes.

Owen lathered up a loofah, scrubbing at his skin vigorously. To his horror, he watched clumps of any remaining dark body hair rinse away down the drain, leaving behind silky smooth flesh. Scars and rough patches vanished, his complexion becoming flawlessly soft and clear.

“Eep!” He yelped as his hands brushed lower, encountering the plush globes of his ass. They seemed to swell and expand with every passing second, growing rounder and fuller until they were each easily a handful. Owen couldn't resist giving them a tentative squeeze, marveling at their suppleness- imagining another man playing with them.

A breathy moan escaped his increasingly plumper lips as he kneaded the doughy cheeks, sending sparks of pleasure radiating through his core- thoughts of muscular men squeezing his ass filled his head.

“Oh fuck yes.... I wonder...” Curiosity got the better of him as he inserted a digit inside his virgin hole. It stretched deliciously around the intrusion and Owen saw stars, his neglected cock weeping steadily. He pumped the finger faster, soon adding a second, then a third, “Oh.... Ohhhhhhh....” He moaned, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head, “I'm... I'm gonna... cum!”

Owen let out a long moan as his entire body seized and his orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. He slumped to the shower’s floor, his eyes half-lidded and glazed over. After a few moments of basking in his post-orgasm bliss, the new twink slowly stood up and exited the shower. He walked over to his bed and collapsed- the day’s events exacting their toll on him.

“What the hell!?” Owen looked up- a shocked expression gracing his cute features.

“J-Jake! I... um...It’s me! It’s Owen!” Owen stammered, his voice pitching higher than normal. He made no attempt to cover himself, proud now to flaunt his assets. And besides, why had he never noticed how sexy Jake was before?

Jake's jaw dropped, his eyes bulging as he took in the shocking sight before him. There were few, if any similarities between him and his friend. But there were enough.

“Holy shit, Owen?! What happened to you?”

Owen's eyes lit up as a mischievous grin spread across his glossy lips, “Oh sweetie, you wouldn't believe the wild ride I've been on!” He giggled.

Reaching over to the pile of discarded clothes, he fished out the mysterious spray can. Jake looked at his friend, and then to the can, and then back up to his friend.

“Wha...”

Without warning, Owen pressed down on the trigger, unleashing another fine mist straight into Jake's stunned, handsome face...

#male tf #male transformation #mental change #personality tf #straight to gay #twink tf #dumber tf #gay hypnosis #forced transformation

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