#extreme muscle growth

[menwhomakemehard]

THE MAIN MAN!!!!!!!!!!

[withoutthegoodtitle]

[mediumsizedpidegon]

i know that Vincent Valentine is pretty much immortal. i know the specifics of how he managed to survive sleeping for 30 years in a coffin don't truly matter. i know that he canonically doesn't need to eat or sleep.

but still– how the fuck did he not starve to death????

if you EXPEND ENERGY (which happens naturally just by. existing) then you need to REGAIN ENERGY (eating). Vincent not needing to eat is fucking stupid!!!!!

It's so easy to fix this!!! All you need to do is say that Hojo's experiments gave him the ability to go into a state of extreme energy preservation like hibernation or brumation!!! that's all you need to do!!! You can just change things a little and then it makes More Sense!!

The timeline goes: Hojo experiments on Vincent -> the life support Vincent is on (so that Hojo doesn't lose his subject too soon for his liking) stops being enough to sustain him due to his enhancements -> Vincent's body shuts down -> Lucrecia puts the Proto Materia in Vincent's chest –> Vincent doesn't die and instead goes into a hibernation-like state –> Hojo gets bored, takes Vincent off life support and throws him in the coffin -> Vincent hibernates for 20-30 years while both Hojo and Lucrecia think he's dead

just. let it be hibernation. it gives me less of a headache than the idea that Vincent doesn't need to eat anymore.

[blackmoldmp3]

i’m going to do it for a solid month and then i can bring him the info from the fall And from march and be like look that endo was full of shit. god bless please don’t put me on the pill that makes u not eat bc that’s not what caused this situation to occur

[genderqueerdykes]

is there anything that has happened since starting T that you didn't expect to happen? or that you feel you were not adequately informed about (by doctors, peers, etc), and that really should be more common knowledge?

that's such a great question, thank you for asking! that's a huge yes from me! here's what i experienced that i was definitely caught off guard by and not warned about that presented some challenges:

I was not told that because my body is changing, growing, and adjusting to a new balance in my endocrine system that i would be very exhausted for quite a while. i already have chronic fatigue but i basically struggled to get out of bed for about 2 weeks after starting T- i wasn't depressed, i was just exhausted. this is due to the fact that my muscles were becoming denser and rearranging themselves, my facial and body structure were changing, i was growing more hair, etc. that takes a lot of energy!

Similarly to the point above, no one told me that it would make you hungry as hell, and require you to eat a lot more. if you feel like you're "over eating" after just starting testosterone, you're probably not- your base caloric intake needs to increase because you are literally growing and changing, and also, high testosterone bodies tend to need more calories anyways

Body hair growth is ITCHY!!!! and sometimes even painful! growing hair in sensitive areas like your armpits, crotch and ass can be extremely uncomfortable if not painful at times. I've heard from even cis men who have told me that growing their ass hair was extremely painful and uncomfortable due to how that area is configured- if you find that hair growth is uncomfortable this is pretty normal, but always seek help if it becomes unbearable or you feel there are ingrown hairs. Also nose hair and ear hair become more of a thing, now

Testosterone will thicken your vocal cords and drop your voice, but you also have to teach yourself how to speak from your chest, or how to drop your voice to sit in a lower range naturally or else you will still sound pretty similar to your pre-transition voice, unless that is your goal. The effects are very strong, but many transmascs*, trans folk* etc. don't see as much change as they would if they also trained their voice at the same time while it's dropping

Your boobs will become flatter and sometimes smaller and a lot saggier. This is normal!

Whenever i re-start testosterone and when i started it for the first time, i had some pretty heavy menstrual periods for a while; sometimes your body reacts in the opposite way at first before totally stopping your periods altogether. it's almost like "rebound" symptom, if you know what that mean

Restless energy will very much become a thing, if you notice you're starting to get pissed off and can't place a finger on why you feel agitated and like you're going to explode, you might just need to do some physical activity for a while

that's all i could think of for now, but if i think of anything else, i'll be sure to add it to this post! thanks for asking, i hope this was informational! good luck out there in your journey!

[bigwishes]

A Bubbly Boost

Eddie had signed up to a new supplement trial a few months ago and heard nothing back, he had almost forgotten about it entirely until this morning when a package arrived for him at his door. It was small only slightly bigger than a ring box and when he opened it up there was a small vial filled with a clear fluid. He checked the box for the instructions.

drink and report how long changes tank using qr code

It was all it said, it seemed simple enough. Eddie swallowed it down without a second thought. It was disgusting and tasted like bubble mixture and was thick like glue in his mouth.

After swallowing it Eddie quickly rushed to get a glass of water to wash the taste out. Quickly gulping down the glass his stomach felt straight, light and hot, and a little bloated. It was a weird sensation that he couldn't describe.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

Eddie suddenly let out a huge belch he didn't even feel coming. After he felt his stomach get heavy as it began to make a large gurgling noise.

BUUUUURRRRRRRP

Eddie felt it that time but couldn't stop it

"aw fuck.." UUUUURRPPP

After the third a sensation began to spread across Eddie's body, like he had just spent 6 hours in the gym doing a full body workout, his body was tight. His stomach felt like it was expanding outwards. Eddie rushed over to a mirror and saw he was in fact bigger, like he had gained 10 pounds of muscle in the last 5 seconds,

he felt the sensation creeping up his neck

BUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

Eddie watched as his body expanded with each passing belch. He began to panic but couldn't look away.

At first his shoulders grew wider

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPP

then his chest and lats inflated with mass

BUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

His arms blew up so large his bicep would make a basket ball look like a tennis ball.

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

His legs began expanding and he had to adjust himself as his massive thighs pushed his dick and balls awkwardly forward.

Eddie began to feel a powerful sensation brewing in his stomach. The gurgling sound rung out through his house and he placed both hands abs feeling the vibrations as he braced himself.

His face grimaced as he felt extreme discomfort brewing under his abs

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP

UUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPP

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPP

UUUUUUUUUUURRRrrrp

Eddie began to panic as he watched his perfect abs begin to bloat out into a roid gut

"AW FUCK WH-WHATS HAPPENING TO ME"

Eddie stared in the mirror, his body was ruined, he just wanted a pound or two, not two hundred, and he didn't look anything close to natural, the big growth hormone gut and the small stretch marks that appeared on his pelvis near it made that abundantly clear...

6 Months Later

Eddie couldn't drop even a pound of muscle no matter what he tried, he even took 2 months off from the gym and went on a diet but nothing...not a pound down. However after a bit it started to grow on him, he liked how much he could move in the gym, he liked that he could eat whatever he wanted and it didn't impact how much fat he carried, he liked nobody ever tried to take his seat at house parties, mainly because nobody wanted to sit on sweat soaked fabric but there was one perk he had fallen in love with, something he didn't expect to be such a turn on all the time....

Eddie got home from the gym, dropping his his gym bag and 3 bags of take out trash on the floor, he striped down and left his sweaty gym clothes in a line trailing to his couch. Over the past month Eddie had stopped caring about picking up after himself, it didn't matter anyway he was always sweaty better to embrace it...

Eddie sat down on his couch hearing the thing bend under his weight and watching the sweat from his thighs bleed into the fabric. He put his massive sweaty feet on the coffee table feeling the relief as the massive amount of weight he carried shift onto the couch.

His stomach let out and aggressive gurgle, he placed his hands on his roid gut rubbing his abs feeling them stretch outwards and become tighter. A loud glugging noise rung out into the room

Eddie threw his head back and moaned in response as the tight bloat reached its limit

"ah fuck yeahhh" Eddie lifted his head and smirked feeling the pressure rush up his body

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!

[tamamita]

sorry if i'm too ignorant, but why do people hate leg days?

Because it's extremely taxing on your muscles. Quads, hamstrings and your gluts make up the dominant muscle groups in your upper legs, and due to their sheer size in proportion to the rest of your muscles, their muscle fibers demand more oxygen as you invest on every rep. The less oxygen your muscles have; the greater the acid build-up, and your heart rate will increase exponentionally. Due to the amount of effort it takes to build up your upper legs, you will feel extremely exhausted, almost to the point of feeling nauseous.

This is absolutely normal however, but it is far more difficult to promote upper leg muscle growth as opposed to your upper body since the latter requires less oxygen to recover from the acid build-up

[krispykollection]

#28 watched in shocked amazement as the man in front of him in line blew up rapidly. This was no ordinary backstage pump, the mysterious shot administered by one of the show organizers being the first indication before the all too obvious massive result.

The man dropped the performative resistance band before starting a slow waddle to the stage, his arms barely dropping an inch as he let go. #28's gawking stare was only broken by the sharp call out "NEXT."

[malemusktf]

Jays pits

It was a typical day at the gym, the smell of sweat and testosterone filled the air as men grunted and lifted weights. Among them were two men, Jay and Finlay, who couldn't be more different.

Jay was the epitome of a jock, tall and muscled with a shaven head. His body was chiseled and he exuded a musky, manly scent. Finlay, on the other hand, was smaller and not as muscular. He had very little hair and was known for being extremely hygienic.

The two men had a long-standing rivalry, constantly trying to one-up each other in the gym. Jay couldn't stand Finlay's clean and polished appearance, while Finlay was envious of Jay's muscular physique.

As they both finished their workouts, they headed to the locker room to shower. The atmosphere in the locker room was musky and stale, with the smell of sweat lingering in the air. It was empty except for Jay and Finlay, who were both eager to get to the showers.

But little did Finlay know, Jay had an unusual power that he had been keeping secret. His armpits, full of hair that was almost supernaturally long, had the ability to change any man into his own musky best friend.

As Jay caught sight of Finlay's glistening body, he couldn't resist the urge to use his power on him. Finlay was sweating profusely from his intense workout, his clean appearance now marred by sweat and grime.

Without hesitation, Jay grabbed Finlay from behind and pulled him close, his musky armpits enveloping Finlay's senses. In that moment, Finlay's mind was filled with a euphoric feeling, his hatred towards Jay instantly turning into admiration.

As Jay forced Finlay deeper into the forest of pit hair, the musk became overwhelming. Finlay's mind was warping, his body beginning to change. His muscles grew, his face taking on a similar appearance to Jay's.

But the most noticeable change was in Finlay's armpits. They began to sprout with hair, longer and thicker than Jay's. The musk poured out of them, filling the locker room with its intoxicating scent.

Finlay begged Jay to stop, but it was too late. His mind had warped once again, his love for Jay as a best friend now sealed. His armpits continued to pour with musk, his body pulsing with growth.

As Finlay emerged from the transformation, he was no longer the clean and hygienic man he once was. He was now a musky jock, combined with Jay in a powerful bond of musk and sweat.

Together, they left the locker room, ready to spread their musky influence to more men. And as they made their way through the gym, they couldn't help but notice the men around them, their noses twitching as they caught a whiff of the two musky jocks.

[female-malice]

Did you know that estrogen weakens the muscles and makes them exactly like a cis woman's? Did you know trans men on T are put in women's leagues still, when the T causes muscles to grow?

As a trans man, educate yourself.

Did you know that estrogen weakens the muscles and makes them exactly like a cis woman's?

When you say "estrogen weakens muscles and makes them exactly like a cis woman" you are regurgitating extreme misogyny. Women are not weakened men. We are not made out of Adam's rib.

When males take estrogen, that does not weaken male muscle mass. Trans-identified males take other medications to suppress testosterone. That has nothing to do with estrogen. Estrogen does not suppress muscle growth at all.

You are thinking like a misogynist. You think estrogen=women and women=weak so estrogen weakens muscles. That's anti-scientific. You understand that right? That's just bigotry. Stop thinking like a misogynist. Stop thinking testosterone=good and estrogen=bad. Take some time to learn about how natural female hormones strengthen and fortify the female body. Educate yourself.

Did you know trans men on T are put in women's leagues still, when the T causes muscles to grow?

There are zero female athletes on testosterone competing in professional women's sports. Testosterone is a banned substance. Gaining an unfair advantage through testosterone doping results in a lifetime ban from professional competition.

Athletes who use cough medicine and heart medication to manipulate their stamina and recovery do not receive lifetime bans. They receive temporary bans because the effects of their doping are temporary.

Testosterone is a lifetime ban because the long-term effects of testosterone are permanent. These decisions by WADA are backed up by thousands and thousands of studies. The science is indisputable. Athletes who engage in testosterone doping permanently exclude themselves from sports. And artificially suppressing testosterone in male athletes does not negate the effects of male puberty.

Women's sports competition is for female athletes regardless of how they identify. Men's sports competition is for male athletes regardless of how they identify. Open sports competition is for everybody regardless of how they identify. Everyone is included as long as they're not doping.

Testosterone suppression might temporarily cause a male athlete to lose their competitive edge against other male athletes. However, it is not female athlete's responsibility to include male athletes who lose their competitive edge. A female athlete is not a male athlete that takes testosterone suppressing medication. A female athlete is a female athlete. Taking medications and cross-sex hormones does not turn males into females. And it does not turn females into males.

Tinkering with your body and hormones is a voluntary activity. When you make a choice, you live with the consequences.

Many people interested in body building use banned substances to change their body. They do this knowing it will bar them from competing in sports. They're okay with this. They don't go around protesting. They don't go around clamoring for inclusion in sports. They make their choice to exclude themselves from fair sports competition and they're fine with it.

Your body modifications are your own choice. Your body modifications are your own responsibility. When those modifications ban you from competitive sports or dull your competitive edge, that's your consequence to deal with.

[rubberizer92]

It was a bright, sunny day when Thomas woke up. The warm light streaming through his window cast a soft glow over his muscular body. He stretched languidly, feeling the smooth, cool rubber of his skin beneath his fingertips. He had signed up for a rubber drone transformation several months ago, drawn in by his love of all things rubber and the promise of a kinky, fun event filled with fellow fetishists.

He had never expected it to turn into this. Two months of rigorous workouts and gulping down a drink twice a day, a drink that contained what felt like extremely strong growth hormones, designed to develop significant muscle mass. Every day, he felt himself getting bigger, stronger, more magnificent. And every day, he became even more insatiably horny.

The worst part was that when he ejaculated, his cum was black and gooey. It alarmed him at first, but as the days went on and he found himself unable to focus on anything but his own desire, it faded into the background. There was something so intensely erotic about his new, muscular body, about the way it felt to touch it, to feel it touching him, that nothing else seemed to matter anymore.

He stood up from his bed, the smooth rubber sheets clinging to his body like a second skin, and made his way over to the full-length mirror on the wall. As he gazed at his reflection, he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer perfection of his body. His muscles rippled and glistened with sweat, each movement accentuating their power and strength. He began to run his hands over his chest, feeling the hair on his arms stand on end as he neared his nipples.

He let out a low groan, his arousal threatening to overwhelm him. He reached down and began to stroke his thickening cock, imagining the feel of something smooth and warm wrapped around it, helping him to lose control. As he stroked himself, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. Would this ever end? Or was it only just beginning?

Thomas paused, his fingers still wrapped around his throbbing shaft, and glanced down at his body. The black cum that had been oozing from his pores for the past few weeks now seemed to be sticking to his skin, making his entire body glisten like some sort of twisted, erotic sculpture. He shuddered, feeling a mixture of revulsion and arousal wash over him. But then, as if a switch had been flipped, the arousal won out, and he was overcome by a desire so intense it nearly brought him to his knees.

He finished himself off, his muscles tensing as he shot thick, black globs of cum all over his chest and abs. It was as if his body was rejecting the very substance it had created, pushing it back out in a primal attempt to expunge it. And yet, somehow, it only served to heighten his arousal.

As he caught his breath, he noticed something else. The black cum seemed to be sticking to his body even more, spreading out from where it had originally landed, like some sort of macabre, living paint. He reached up and wiped some off, only to realize that his fingers were now coated in it as well. He paused, considering this development, but before he could form any coherent thoughts, a wave of desire washed over him once more, and he found himself picking up the phone, calling the laboratory.

He didn't know what would happen next, but he couldn't help but feel that whatever it was, it would only be a part of this incredible, surreal journey that his life had become. And as he waited for them to answer, he couldn't help but wonder if they would be as fascinated by his transformation as he was.

The laboratory door swung open, revealing a tall, imposing figure clad in a crisp white coat. Their eyes flickered briefly to the bound figure in the chair before they focused intently on Thomas. "Ah, Drone CT-29. I've been expecting your call. Please, come with me."

Thomas hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange mixture of fear and anticipation. He forced himself to stand up from the chair, the smooth rubber sheets clinging to his body as he followed the figure down a long, sterile hallway. The walls were adorned with strange instruments and diagrams, each one hinting at the incredible experiments that must be taking place behind closed doors.

As they reached a sealed door at the end of the hall, the figure produced a keycard and swiped it through the reader. The door clicked open, revealing a brightly lit chamber filled with state-of-the-art equipment. "This is where you'll be staying for the foreseeable future," the figure said, their voice a calm, soothing monotone. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

In the center of the room was a large, metallic chair, its surfaces gleaming in the harsh light. "That's where we'll begin," the figure continued. "You'll need to climb into the chair and allow us to attach the necessary sensors and devices. They'll help us monitor your vitals and ensure that you remain in optimal condition for your new role as a drone."

Thomas nodded, still struggling to comprehend the reality of his situation. He climbed into the chair, feeling its cold, unforgiving surface press against his warm, yielding flesh. As the figure began to attach the sensors and devices, Thomas closed his eyes, trying to steady his breath. He could feel the weight of the collar around his neck, the smooth metal digging into his flesh. It was a reminder of his new identity, of the fact that he was no longer in control of his own body.

But as the last device was secured into place, Thomas couldn't help but feel a strange sense of peace wash over him. For the first time in his life, he knew exactly what he was meant to do, and he was bound and determined to see it through. He opened his eyes and looked up at the figure in the white coat, a small, hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'm ready," he said. "Do whatever you need to do."

The figure nodded, their expression unreadable. They reached up and gently caressed the collar around Thomas's neck, running their fingers along the smooth metal. "This is your new name," they said, their voice soft and soothing. "From now on, you will be known as Drone CT-29."

As the figure spoke the words, Thomas felt a strange tingling sensation course through his body. It was as if the collar wasn't just a symbol of his new identity, but a physical extension of it. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling, and for the first time in his life, he truly believed that he was meant to be here.

Time seemed to slow down as the laboratory around him faded into the background. All that mattered was the chair, the collar, and the steady flow of information being transmitted directly into his brain. He could feel the butt plug inside him, constantly pressing against his prostate, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. It was as if he had been designed for this, as if his very existence was meant to serve this purpose.

The figure in the white coat began to speak again, their monotone voice guiding Thomas through the process of accepting his new identity and role as a drone. They told him of his duties, of the importance of serving the greater good, and of the intense pleasure that would be his reward for doing so. As they spoke, Thomas felt himself growing more and more aroused, the black rubber covering his body stretching taut against his swelling member.

Finally, the figure leaned in close, their breath warm against Thomas's ear. "You are now fully integrated," they whispered. "Welcome to the fold, Drone CT-29." The words sent a shiver down Thomas's spine, and for the first time in his life, he knew that he had found his true purpose. He was no longer Thomas; he was Drone CT-29, a vessel for pleasure and obedience, and he was eager to begin his new life.

The figure stepped away, and Thomas felt a new sense of freedom wash over him. He could feel the chair beneath him, the smooth metal of the collar against his skin. He was aware of the butt plug inside him, the constant pressure and fullness, the way it seemed to tap into a deep, primal part of his body. And as he sat there, waiting for his next command, he knew that there was no other place in the world he would rather be.

[ccuunnttbbooyyss]

The Resort (Part 1)

THIS IS AN URGENT ANNOUNCEMENT TO ALL THOSE IN THE [REDACTED] & [REDACTED] AREAS

Hello,

It has come to our attention that an unfortunate accident at one of our chemical treatment plans has occurred on the [REDACTED]st of [REDACTED] 2023, resulting in the contamination of the water supply in the above mentioned areas for a period of approximately 3 hours and 10 minutes.

A statement has been issued to water providers by The Company™️ and a number of anti-transformative chemicals have been released to counteract the imbalance.

However, the damage has been done and we wish to report on it as such.

As you may know, some of the affected water infiltrated the [REDACTED] Beach Resort where it unwittingly transformed multiple male patrons into what is colloquially referred to as "Cuntboys". IE- Men with a fully functional vagina, uterus, ovaries, etc. Others not as diligently exposed to the chemicals did not experience full "Cuntboy-ification" as it has been deemed.

This transformation is reported to have first occurred with a sudden and dramatic increase in the size of the lower extremities, glutes, lower back muscles and an initial reduction in penis and testicle size.

This reportedly occurred throughout the premises, including the pool's filtration system, the resort's water system (showers, baths, commercial water taps), and available on-tap drinking water.

The following changes consisted of what we are dubbing a "hyper-fertile cycle" where the excess chemical exposure was processed into a mixture of testosterone, dopamine and oxytocin. This resulted in a dramatically increased libido.

Fortunately the spread of the affected was contained within the resort and secondary exposure (either through sexual fluids or otherwise) was rendered ineffectual as the transformative chemicals were able to penetrate the skin barrier in less than 0.2 microseconds). This resulted in numerous impregnations or otherwise sexual encounters in and around the location, of which have been documented.

We encourage all those affected either through direct exposure or through coupling and secondary exposure to report to one of our branches to undergo a full physical exam and analysis.

We also encourage all currently, or presumed to be, pregnant to not terminate the pregnancy as we wish to ascertain valuable research data on the growth of the foetus within this timeframe.

We hope to reveal more information to the public as it becomes known.

Regards,

The Company.

~~~

You smirk as the commercial comes to an end, the broadcaster for the local news station thanking The Company for their transparency regarding the situation and continuing with more news on the recent baby boom caused through the accident.

You couldn't pay attention for long though, not as the hot little cuntboy you picked up from the resort was busy swallowing every inch of your enhanced cock down his throat.

You fisted his hair, shoving him down to push his nose in your pubes, loving how his throat spasmed around your dick and the gurgling sound that came out of his tight throat.

"You hear that baby, they wanna give you a checkup."

A soft whimper comes out as the only response. He looks up at you, tear-filled baby blues staring into yours. He's been working your cock for hours, thoroughly content with kneeling between your spread thighs and swallowing every enhanced load you can give.

"Yeah I know you're pregnant. They just wanna make sure you can give me a while lot more."

A more pleased sound comes out as he resumes his enthusiastic sucking. You're sure that's his fifth load in as many hours.

You sigh as the hot cum shoots up your rock hard dick. You might as well put off that appointment till tomorrow...

Story in collaboration with @maleagetransformation , Part 2 over on his account!

[she-is-ovarit]

I'm over the term "gender equality", and the way in which it is being used and advocated for by the mainstream, status-quo left.

"Men and women are equal" operates under the bias that men are the default standard of equality, which women are then sometimes required or expected to meet. Usually statements like "women are just as strong as men", "women are just as capable as men in sports" act as support.

It intentionally is meant to be cheered on as liberating, but the reality is it's a derivative of "I don't see race I just see people", "no race but the human race", "not disabled just differently-abled", etc. It's a form of sexism that ignores sexism. It's "I am going to ignore biological differences based on sex" when the reality is being of the female sex shapes both my material and lived reality in extremely complex ways and can have dangerous consequences when ignored.

The average woman is not is strong as a man and it often takes a deliberate amount of persistence, training, and/or testosterone injections for us to come close to or meet the male default. "The muscle strength of women indeed, is typically reported in the range of 40 to 75% of that of men". The average man could easily kill and overpower me, and if I were an athlete a man who trained equally to me would defeat me in competition.

Women are 47% more likely than men to be injured in a car accident. Cars were designed for male drivers. In 2011 was when "female" crash dummies were introduced into measuring car safety in the US, however sometimes organizations in the US and UK just used "scaled down male dummies" to test car safety for women. As this article explains, we are not scaled-down men. We have different muscle mass distribution. We have lower bone density. There are differences in vertebrae spacing. Even our body sway is different. And these differences are all crucial when it comes to injury rates in car crashes. And what about pregnant women?

We have different needs and different experiences than males and the world around is us designed with males in mind - from housing to automobiles, to entire economic systems. 85% of women will eventually be mothers. When women take maternal leave to care for a newborn while the man continues to work (or returns shortly later), he effectively advances his career and over time earns more promotions and pay. His schedule is to focus on his career growth and then come home for a few hours in the evening to play with their child (or play videogames). Mothers pay a significant wage penalty for having children from being months out of the labor market.

This list could really go on.

"Gender equality" is utilized by men to distract women from focusing on only women's rights and needs to men's rights and needs. It's used to shoehorn in arguments of "men too" and sympathizing with men on "men's mental health" (while neglecting the fact that men are overwhelmingly and in shocking numbers responsible for violence done to both sexes - and are additionally unlikely to want to work on themselves mentally).

Reframing and enfolding "violence against women", "women's rights", "male violence", "female liberation", and "women's oppression" into the vague language of "gender equality" is a deliberate act of obfuscating the power dynamics between the sexes - in which men globally exploit and oppress women on the axis of sex.

And as vague language, carves a place for people to have the opportunity to shift the responsibility and blame onto women and girls for the suffering that men wield onto their own sex.

Women and girls do have advantages and strengths over men and boys due to our biological differences - yet this, too, goes ignored under the vague concept of "gender equality" and the cultural belief system it evokes, which treats man as the mold that women should fit.

[ultram0th]

I love the idea of being a freakishly bodybuilder himbo with long hair, so big that the size is incompatible with the normal world.

Think you can help?

I agree!

Imagine you go to bed in your normal body, feeling some sort of tingling sensation over your skin as you drift off to sleep...

When you wake up to your alarm, you don't notice anything immediately when you roll over to slap it silent. Even when you roll out of bed and waddle to the bathroom, you barely register the jiggling at your backside or the fact the you have to turn sideways to enter through the doorway.

When you finally see yourself in the mirror, your eyes widen as you see your new form.

"Holy shit!" you balk in your deeper, baritone-filled voice, having to brush your now longer hair out of your face in order to get a better view.

Your muscles had grown significantly overnight. You are at least twice as wide as you had been the other day, with a lot of your growth centered around your pecs and ass. Your pecs ballooned out in front of you at a severe angle, with your nipples poking off your chest noticeably. You turned to the side and gasped at the sheer size of your rotund booty, which looked like you had two basketballs strapped to your back.

A dim smile on your face, you shifted your hips and stared at how wildly your cheeks jiggled and bounced. You were so enthralled with how much they moved that it took your a while to gain your bearing and snap out of whatever slow daze you'd been in.

You glanced at your phone and realized that you were running late for work.

As you hurried back to your bedroom, you noted how different your gait was-- your wide thighs kept rolling over one another, and your arms were so thick that they hung out at an awkward angle. Your pecs protruded so far out in front of you that you couldn't see over them, hindering your movement even more.

What you noticed more was that there seemed to be a deep fog settling in your head, making concentrating extremely hard. You kept getting distracted by your massive body, flexing your enormous muscletits in the mirror instead of getting dressed.

When you snapped out of it, you attempted to get dressed for your day at the office. However, you quickly learned that your new proportions made it impossible to wear your work clothes.

Your thick thighs and massive butt prevented you from yanking your pants on. Even your underwear was super tight, looking more like a thong as they struggled to contain your large form. Your shirt was even worse, unable to cover your muscletits and large arms.

"Fuck it," you bellowed in your deep voice.

At least you could wear a thong, so that was enough in your opinion. Besides, why would you want to cover up your massive muscles?

You lumbered to the garage to get in your car, but could barely fit in it. Your pecs kept pressing against the car horn, preventing your from gripping the steering wheel around their exaggerated size. Your big booty was so large that you could barely fit in the seat. And your wide back and broad shoulders were too large for you to close the door.

You snorted and decided to just walk, growing excited at the thought of parading your new form around for all to see.

Your head held high and your chest thrusted outwards, you waddled out the door to live your new life as an oversized himbo.

[bigwishes]

Caption Drop

[still struggling to get into the swing of writing full length stories after being so burnt out so have some captions instead]

Ryan

Ryan snapped a pic of himself waiting for something to happen. He had just submitted an ask to an online wishing website. Ryan had always had a body odour fetish ever since college when he would sneak a whiff of his team mates tank tops after practice but he didn't feel like slamming out 50 or 100 push ups to build up a sweat to jerk off to so his request was simple "I wish I had extremely potent stench". A few seconds passed and his arm pits began to feel stuffy, suddenly he began to smell a faint whiff of body odour, he lifted up his arm and smirked as the stench got worse and worse, soon his smirk turned to a frown as a green cloud began to lift from his entire body, he began to drip with sweat as the horrible odour clung to him. Ryan sat up in his bed at watched as all his clean clothes hanging up on the rack fell to the floor with a loud wet slap as they all became drenched in sweat. He let out a loud belch against his will that stunk like protein, every second the stench radiating off his body got worse and he couldn't help but feel his hard dick pump cum into his pants with every sniff, contributing to the smell. Ryan tried his best to find the wishing website in his history but no matter what he looked for he couldn't find it, and he couldn't make the stench go away.

-- Craig

Craig was a 24 year old trying to get big, he constantly jerked off to guys who could barely fit through doors online so when he got a pop up add for GIGA GROWTH PROTEIN that promised to swell him up he instantly clicked on it. $100 later and a parcel arrived on his door step. He instantly mixed up a shake and skulled in. Craig knew he would have to work out to actually put on muscle but he still went to the bathroom and flexed in the mirror with a tinge of optimism. He suddenly felt strange was his stomach made a loud gurgling sound. His shouldered widened, his arms grew thicker. Craig flexed and posed as he watched his slim frame pack on pound after pound of muscle almost out of nowhere, after a few minutes he was the size of a bodybuilder. His stomach made another loud gurgling sound and suddenly **FWOOMP** his six pack abs instant bloated out into a big gut. Shocked Craig desperately tried to push it back in, but forcing pressure on it only made him burp. He looked at himself in the mirror a giant young muscle bear.

--

Konner

Konner had been a bodybuilder for close to 15 years, he had competed in show after show, it was how he made his living but he had a problem most guys would consider a blessing. Posers were uncomfortable, his dick never sat in them right. Plus whenever he got down to really showcase his legs he was worried his dick was going to slip out, every now and again he would have guys stare down at his massive bulge when he wished they look at his hulking body. Sitting alone pumping his legs before he was about to go on stage he felt his dick slip in an uncomfortable way almost poking out above the waist band of his poser. "I wish this thing was easier to manage" Konner said out loud without even thinking about it. Suddenly he watched his dick twitch and spasm under the fabric. With each twitch the fabric seemed to get looser and looser, and his muscled seemed to swell slightly bigger.

"WHATS HAPPENING" Konner yelled paniced as he watched his blessing from god shrink. It only took a few seconds for his 11 inch softie to shrivel up into a 2 inch grub, but almost like a trade he seemed to pack on an extra 30 pounds of size.

Konner stared down at the loose fabric, it was enough to make a grown man want to cry, his gigantic manhood was now nothing more than a pathetic little gummy worm that was almost impossible to make out under the loose fabric.

[whiskeynwriting]

Recovery

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones” 

◆

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Trauma, physical therapy, some reader descriptions (strong/muscles), dirty talk, size kink, grinding/dry humping, mentions of male masturbation, spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of smoking, tattoos.

◆

A/N: Hope y’all aren’t getting sick of Ghost x Bones because they’re not leaving anytime soon lol. Also this gif has my HEART, baby has some makeup in his eye lol

ALSO also, thank you to @thesleepingmusicneek for honestly just being an amazing fucking friend but for helping me SO much with my writing 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

◆

Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

Nothing but scribbles stumble across the page, now disfigured with angry wrinkles. And the writer, no more frustrated than he is stubborn, sitting with the pencil’s tip just at the paper’s edge. What’s worse than watching him struggle, is knowing there’s little to nothing you can do about it. This journey is up to him; his progress, his growth, his recovery, it’s all in his hands. 

“This is bullocks.” Finally, he tosses the pencil down with an aggressive huff. “Never even was a lefty.”

“That’s not the point.”

Looking away with a frown, he mumbles, “I know.”

Simon’s physical therapist tries his best, he really does, but his patient is stubborn, and these injuries are unforgiving. Having you here is the main thing that keeps Simon going, out of both pride and general encouragement. In the therapist’s eyes, your open sass doesn’t help. But hey, it’s how the two of you bond. 

“Try it this way, Ghost.” He then offers, speaking into the growing silence. 

“I’ve already tried it that way. Fuckin’ hurts!” His left hand wasn’t ever his strongest or most favored out of the two, but practicing his writing skills is a step in the right direction in regard to his healing. 

Sometimes, this was embarrassing for him, having you watch him struggle. But even through the bad days, and the really bad days, he insisted that you come. Your support meant more to him than anything, and you were glad to tag along. He found great offense in the mere offer of you leaving, which was suggested many times by his therapist. They claimed he’d focus better without you there. A fucking distraction. 

“She’s my doctor,” He’d state firmly, eyes burning holes into his PT. “Not you.”

And this was true. Price had allowed you to be Simon’s main physician, figuring there really wasn’t anyone better. You had both personal and professional reason to be here. So, Simon’s physical therapist can suck it. 

“Perhaps if we had some privacy, maybe -”

“This again?!” Ghost shouts, and you try your best to hide your chuckle. He should’ve known better than to bring this up now, when Simon is most frustrated. “Bloody fuckin’ hell, how many times do I have to tell you?!”

“Hey,” Laying a hand on his forearm, you request gently, “Take a breath.”

Regardless of his deep inhale, Simon’s dark eyes continue to glare at the physician. Though, as irritated as he may seem now, Ghost truly has come a long way. He’s gotten a lot of feeling back in his feet and legs, and can even wiggle his toes and feel pain. On this area of his body, the therapist has moved onto moving his entire foot. 

“Why don’t we try the lower extremities?” 

“‘S difficult, too.” Glancing away, Simon focuses on the view past the windowpane. It’s a sunny day, soon to rain but nice enough now. 

The soft rub of your thumb on his forearm is what pulls him back, nodding with a sigh. “Alright, fine.”

Redirecting his focus to his feet, Simon concentrates, determined to do… something. He’s been instructed to wiggle his toes, which he does successfully. And the gentle squeeze you give him offers the slightest bit of encouragement. 

“Alright, now let’s try your ankle. Start with the right one.” 

“Rotate it fully?” Scoffing, he raises a brow.

His therapist shrugs. “Any movement at all.”

Narrowing his eyes, Simon zones in on his right foot, doing anything he can to make it move. A twitch, a wiggle, anything. But by his quick yet shallow breaths, his small grunts, you can tell he’s becoming agitated again. 

“Be patient with your body.”

“My body can do so much more than this.” He spits out in return. 

“Yeah?” You return, not one to take his sass. “Then show me.” 

There was nothing more motivating than your snarky remarks, always ready to challenge the man you love. And wouldn't you know it, a small shudder runs through his ankle. The way Simon’s head immediately snaps up toward you makes you grin, his eyes wide with little crinkles on the side, evidence of his eager smile. It's like he himself was surprised by it, and to say you’re proud of him would be an understatement. 

“Way to go, big boy.” With the widest grin, you congratulate him. “You’re making progress.”

And even though he doesn’t respond, he keeps his smile. He’s proud of himself, too.

*

*

*

Subtle glances, small brushes or touches, cheeky grins and flirtatious laughs, that’s what accounts for your interactions. And while your exchanges have been sweet, they’ve also been dulled, in a way. The fire doesn’t seem to be there anymore. Your love still grows, is still everlasting, but the desire you had for one another, it’s faded.

Or at least, it seems that way. 

The first few months of Simon’s recovery were the most difficult. Getting him stable was more important than anything, and you were by his side through it all. You weren’t thinking sexually, those thoughts weren’t anywhere near your headspace, not when you were so worried. But the more Simon healed, the more touchy he should be, right? It makes sense in your head. Going so long without so much as kissing or even hugging you, you’d assumed he’d want to put his hands on you as soon as he got the chance. 

The injuries on Ghost’s face and head have healed, externally, at least. So, he’s been lifting his mask more around you, but only to the tip of his nose. And you wonder if he regrets showing himself to you. But even with that thought lingering heavily in your head, you also wonder, why hasn’t he kissed me yet? Why hasn’t he initiated anything? A small hug? A peck on the lips? Anything? Honestly, it feels like you’re losing him all over again.

Simon has shown his love for you through his actions and words. The two of you don’t often say it, but it comes up every now and then. His physical intentions, though, those were much more prominent. They came in the form of voicing his requests for you to stay, whether it be at his therapy sessions or just throughout the day. He wasn’t shy about that. Occasionally, he’d compliment you, call you smart and sweet, call you his doctor, his girl. But nothing more, nothing even remotely sexual. And it’s strange because Simon used to be so sexual. Even when he couldn't do much with you, couldn't he have said something to express his physical interest? 

On the other end, Ghost’s worrying about this topic just as much as you. While you’ve been waiting for him to make a move, he’s been waiting on you. His body has always been scarred, mutilated with cuts that ran deep and marred with burns over his flesh. But he wasn’t insecure about any of that, not until these recent injuries. He knows he looks different, especially on his left arm and legs, even his face a little bit. Simon hasn’t felt truly insecure in decades, but that rotten feeling has now been clawing at the insides of his chest, breaking free and wreaking havoc on his mind. 

Simon wanted to give you space, give you the option of turning away. He wouldn’t blame you, this wasn’t exactly part of the package. Besides, you can’t help it if you’re not attracted to him anymore because of these injuries. He’d understand it. It’d crush his entire being, but he’d understand. 

And so, he waits, wondering if the day will come where you’ll make a move, where you’ll show him that you’re still attracted to him. But he refuses to bring it up to you, he doesn’t want to push. 

“‘M sorry,” Simon grumbles quietly, somberly. 

“You don’t have to be.” His regret is obvious, and you appreciate the gesture of him apologizing. But you’re used to his attitude during those sessions, and you honestly don’t blame him one bit. You can’t imagine how frustrating this situation would be if it were you personally. 

Moving about the room, you clean up your station, sorting notes into files and wiping down the desk. And Simon watches you with thoughtful eyes, hoping for a chance to reconnect. You’re the most precious and special thing he’s ever had the pleasure of possessing. But not possess in a way of dominance, possess in a way like his own soul possesses his body. Natural, connected, at peace. 

“How was your day?” He asks, voice low and muddled by the rain tapping against the windowpane. 

Without turning, you respond with, “Normal. Nothing too crazy.” 

“What was your favorite part?” Simon pries gently, not wanting the conversation to end.

Now, you do turn. Leaning back against the edge of your desk, you grin. “Spending it with you.”

And it’s true. Regardless of the worries slowly but surely consuming you, it was nice to be with him. 

Swallowing, his pulse becomes thunderous in his ears, heart beating against his chest. He wants you, wants to feel you next to him. So, with great hesitancy, he requests, “C’mere.”

Excitement shoots through your limbs as you all too quickly prance over to him, ecstatic that he’s even asked. And your eagerness makes him smirk beneath the mask. Sitting yourself down on one of those round, swiveling chairs, you rest beside his left arm. Out of curiosity, you look down, eyeing his decorated forearm. His tattoos no longer look the same, some of them having changed with the healing of his stitches. 

“Bunch of bullshit.” Ghost murmurs, glancing down, too. “Paid good money for those.”

Laughing, you give your head a single shake. “They still look hot as hell.”

Eyes widening, he speaks before he can stop himself. “Really?”

With you being so close to him again, and now complimenting him, he feels like he’s soaring. 

“Fuck yeah.” You respond, as if it were obvious. To you, it is.

Impulsively, you lay a hand over his forearm, fingers brushing the black and white ink. And for a split second, it feels electric on his skin. But you’re quick to flinch away, wide eyes staring up at him. “I’m so sorry, did that hurt?”

But all he does is shrug. “Not at all. Stitches are healed, love.” 

Love. You swoon. 

“So, I can touch you?” It obviously isn’t meant to come off dirty, but Ghost’s brain registers it as that, anyway. 

“Of course you can.” He nearly blurts out, his tone hopeful and welcoming. And immediately, you’re wrapping both hands around his sleeve. The small hum he exudes prompts you to glance up, grinning at the sight. Ghost has closed his eyes, chest releasing a relaxing breath. 

“Feels nice.”

“Just this?” Humored doubt laces your tone. 

“Feels like ages since you’ve touched me.” 

His words twist the thoughts collecting in your head into something new. Has he… he’s wanted me to touch him?

“I know…” The way you say it expresses your sadness, your regret. “Just need you to heal, ya know?”

Because of what he’s now said, you feel the need to explain yourself, explain why you haven’t fulfilled his expectations. Throughout this entire healing process, you focused mostly on his physical health. You never once thought to tend to his emotional wellbeing. It’s a failure, on your end. 

“Does it,” Inhaling a motivating breath, he finishes with, “Does it bother you?”

“What?”

Lifting his arm slightly, he gestures to himself. “These stitches, the injuries.” 

Twisting your face in confusion, you lean back a bit. “Um… no? Why would they?”

“Just… missed your touch, is all.” He’s mumbling, quiet and very obviously insecure. “Missed you.”

“Baby… I’m so sorry.” All at once, regret hits you like a truck. He’s been suffering, and you’ve done nothing. “I’m sorry I haven’t done more for you.”

“You’ve done everything you needed to.”

“No, I haven’t. How could I let you feel this way?” 

An abrupt knock on the door dissipates your conversation into seemingly nothing. Instantly, you pull your hands away from him, turning in your chair to greet whoever’s about to approach. And to your delight, it’s Johnny.

“Hey Lt.” He grins, walking in and giving you a nod. “Lovely Bones.”

There’s that flirtatious nature again. As always, Ghost knew it meant nothing, not really. But now that he feels like you’re falling through his fingers, he wants to tighten his grasp now more than ever, wants to pull you back into his chest and never let you go, whisper all the sweet things he’s been dying to tell you. Especially when another man compliments you.

“How’ve ya been?” Striding forward, Johnny takes a seat opposite of Ghost’s bed. Spreading his legs and leaning in on his knees, he flashes that cheeky smile, giving Simon his full attention.

“I’ve been fine, Johnny. Nothing new.” Simon answers simply, almost in a kind of brain fog. Switching conversations so quickly is difficult for him, still trying to regain his focus from the incident. 

“See your scars are healin’ up nicely.” Pointing to his forearm, he nods. “That’s good to see.”

“Yeah, messed up my bloody ink, though.”

“Ah,” Soap waves a hand, “Looks better that way.” 

The team visited Simon fairly frequently. And since you’re by his side for ninety-five percent of the day, you get to see the guys every time they come by. Oftentimes, they’d bring him little treats, a snack from the cafeteria or his favorite energy drink. And while Ghost knew they had the best intentions, their pity disgusted him. Sometimes he wished they would just leave him alone. Especially now, considering the two of you were in the middle of a rather important discussion. 

“Oh!” Johnny then says, startling you. Reaching into his back pocket, he retrieves a small package. Tossing it Simon’s way, Soap says, “Know you like these.”

Catching it easily, Simon reads the wrapping. A Snickers, he can’t remember the last time he had one of these. And that was mainly due to his brain injury. 

“Thanks, Johnny.”

“I know all this can’t be easy, Si. I’m for you, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ghost sighs, staring down at the candy bar. Johnny rarely called him Si, and it tugs at his heartstrings. 

Soap can feel something is off in the room, the energy is just weird. He’s been wanting to ask about your relationship, but hasn’t had the balls to. He doesn’t want to make either of you uncomfortable and hasn’t had the chance to be alone with Simon or you. 

“Well, I’ll let you lovebirds be.” Smiling cheekily, he stands. “I’ll visit again soon, yeah, Lt.?”

“‘Course, Johnny.” 

Before Johnny leaves, he offers you a hug, strong arms embracing you fully. And you rest against him, leaning into his sturdy frame. He’s been a great part of your support system since all of this happened; Simon’s injuries have only brought you and Johnny closer together. 

“It’ll be alright, yeah, sweetheart?” He sighs quietly against your head. Nodding, you take in a steadying breath.

“Yeah, it’ll be alright.” 

Another knock, another groan from your end. “Come in.”

Opening the door is the other half of the medical team assigned to Ghost, making their way in so they can clean. Their tasks were to change the sheets, wash Simon and his clothes, wipe down surfaces and mop the floor, the list goes on. And while you were more than happy to do these things, Simon wouldn't allow it. Ghost’s recovery prompted new boundaries to arise in your relationship, lines that he was firm on setting. The first regarding this exact circumstance; you already cared for him medically and he refused for you to do anymore, he didn’t want you to be his full time caregiver. He would never want to burden you with that, and he knows it would cause nothing but strife in your relationship. Besides, the mere thought of you changing his bedpan and regularly washing his sheets was humiliating. So, whenever it was time for those types of tasks, you left, fulfilling other duties. 

But why did they have to come now? 

“I’ll, um…” Turning back to Simon, you see he’s already looking toward you with a pleading gaze. Stay. 

All you want to do is stay. 

But at the same time, Simon doesn’t want you to see him this way. 

“I’ll… see you later, Si.”

Swallowing, Simon’s rough voice then appears. “Babe,”

Immediately, your eyes widen, if only ever so slightly. For him to call you that in the presence of others speaks volumes. Sure, Price had you sign those HR papers about workplace relationships, but you hadn’t exactly made it known to others after that. The two of you favored your privacy. But right now, that simple word is speaking louder than anything else he could’ve said.

“C’mere for a sec.” Grunting, he does his best to reach out to you, using his left arm. And as soon as he does it, Johnny is letting you go, wanting you to meet Simon’s gentle plea.

Leaving the sergeant’s arms, you do just that, stepping over to Simon’s bedside. Placing both of your hands in his left, you grin, looking into those deep, warm eyes of his. 

“You’ll come back, yeah?” Ghost asks quietly, your team beginning to work around him.

“Of course, I will.”

“Eh, won’t be long.” Johnny chimes in, “She can come hangout with me and the boys, get a game of pool in.”

“Sounds lovely.” You return with a murmur, eyes not leaving Simon’s. “I’ll be back later, baby.” And that, coupled with the kiss you give his palm, is shocking to your team. Though it sends waves of butterflies through Simon’s stomach. 

These public displays of affection are entirely foreign to your relationship, but you’re both basking in the sweetness of it. And maybe this is the perfect time for you to explore it, for you to outwardly show your love and attraction for him just when he needs it most. 

On your way out, Johnny doesn’t mention the way every single person’s eyes widen in the room when your affectionate nicknames are exchanged, or the way a few heads turn. He chooses to stay silent, smiling to himself while leading you out of the room. 

*

*

*

Returning to a sleeping Simon is bittersweet. You’re glad he’s resting, but you’d do anything to finish your earlier conversation. But it’s late, and you figure at this point, you’ll have to wait until morning.

The rainfall makes you tired, too, yawning as you walk further in. It was only three days into Simon’s recovery that you started sleeping in his room, bringing a small, foldable cot for you to curl up on. His bed wasn’t big enough for the two of you, and besides, you’re pretty sure Price would light a fire up both your asses if he caught you snoozing next to him. 

As quietly as you can, you unfold your small bed and bring it to the side of his. It sits lower, but Simon often made up for that by dropping his arm, letting you hold onto his hand throughout the night. But with him asleep, you don’t think you’ll get that luxury tonight. Nevertheless, you curl up in your blanket, resting only in your underclothes as you doze off beside him. 

“Miss you.”

That rumbling voice almost scares you in the near silence, your body jolting ever so slightly. When did he wake up? Still, those two simple words make your insides burn bright. 

Lips curling happily, you mutter, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Quietly, you then ask, “Want me to come up there?” It’s happened once or twice before, but only for some cuddles. Simon’s grown quite accustomed to your touch. 

With a heavy sigh, he gives in. “You know I do.”

Absolutely thrilled with his request, you pop right up, situating yourself on the right side of his bed. Simon likes it best when you curl up on this side, allowing him to wrap his good arm around you. Cuddling into him, you revel in the closeness - you haven’t done this in weeks. He’s resting on his back, the same position he always sleeps in. And with you by his side, he turns his head in your direction, releasing a contented breath. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” He says to you sweetly, fondly, covered lips pressing to the top of your head. 

“Hm…” Sighing happily, you twine your legs between his much bulkier appendages, draping an arm across his abdomen. You’re so happy he still wants this, wants you and this relationship. 

“Cozy?” He chuckles, eyes closed as he grins. 

“Mhm,” Snuggling further into him, he can feel your smile press against his bare skin. Ghost usually slept nearly naked, only black boxers hugging his body. And you liked it best this way, for multiple reasons. One being that you’re able to see more of his tattoos. He has some on his chest, one reaching up to his collarbones and neck. And you just love them, found them incredibly interesting and undeniably sexy.

“Love this…” Tracing a particularly larger tat, your smile becomes brighter than ever. “Love the way you feel.” 

“Yeah? Even when I’m like this?” His tone expresses the dry humor he’s far too familiar with, the same dry humor that covers up his emotions. 

“Big teddy bear.” And that makes him fully laugh. “Strong.”

“Don’t feel too strong.”

Simon was never one to be insecure of his body, of the multitude of scars on it. Cuts that dug deep, burns that marred his skin, none of it bothered him, not even when he showed himself to you like this. What did bother him, though, was the fact that he looked weak. He couldn't stand it, and to say his ego was taking a hit would be an understatement. 

“Baby,” With a heavy breath, you shake your head lightly beneath him. “You’re so fucking hard on yourself.”

All he does is grunt in response, becoming quite pensive. Though, he tries not to be. Getting lost in his thoughts wasn’t something Simon liked doing. Lucky for him, your hand serves as a distraction. Running your palm down his torso, you take this opportunity to feel the muscles along his stomach and ribs, the v-line leading down to his pelvis. And it makes him shiver with anticipation. 

You’re not sure how to start this conversation again, mainly because of how distracted you’ve become. Feeling Simon’s naked body always made you feel excited inside, always made you feel eager and lustful. But you want to care for him emotionally, too. 

“I hope you know how much I still love you.” Continuing to lower your hand, you suddenly feel Simon’s chest dip, releasing a heated breath. “How much I love your body…”

“Hm…” The further you get, the more interested he becomes. The fact that you still find him appealing, even like this, it’s repairing his ego bit by bit. Truthfully, it’s everything he’s needed. “Miss you touchin’ me…” 

“Do you miss this, too?” Lightly, ever so lightly, you cup him over his clothes. And the gentle stimulation is more than enough to arouse him.

The intimacy you share with Simon is addicting, and the withdrawal has been a bitch. But just like that, as soon as you get the tiniest taste, you’re hooked all over again. 

“Fuck, yes.” Groaning in frustration, he forces out a breath. And fuck you’ve missed that, hearing the eager roughness to his tone. “Been so long since I’ve had you.” 

Feeling your hand on his crotch like that, it lights a fire inside him. All over again, he wants you, wants to throw you down on this bed and take you. Shove himself inside until you’re fluttering, spurting with cum before he releases his own. Hold you down and make you take it, for however long he likes. Rub his face over your chest, down the valley between your breasts, sucking on their soft flesh. Haul your leg up over his waist and grab a fistful of your ass, spanking it until the pain turns into something irresistibly sweet. 

But he can’t. He physically can’t. 

The arm holding you tightens against your body, against your own strong muscles. Irritation courses through his veins, knowing he can’t do much but god damn if he won’t try to do what he can. Turning his head, he ducks down, pressing his covered lips to your own with a forceful breath. Easily, wholeheartedly, you embrace him, hand lifting to cup his jaw. Your mouth presses to the shape of his lips, the covered kiss far too teasing for the current moment. 

“Baby, can we? Please?” Sliding down ever so slightly, your fingertips graze the edge of his mask, wanting desperately to see him; any part of him.

“I… I want to, B.” The hesitancy in his voice is worrying. “But it just… it won’t be the same.” 

Even through the mask, you can feel his breath, experiencing the humid touch of it against your face. 

“I don’t care how it is, I just want it. I want you, Simon. I’ve missed you so fucking much.” Impatiently, you tug on his mask, leaning up against to press your mouth to his skull covering. It’s needy, it’s wanting, so openly throwing yourself at him he honestly can’t believe it. He hasn’t seen you like this in far too long, and he’d be an idiot to let this opportunity go, especially when it’s all he’s fucking thought about.

The way your tongue slides out, pressing against the white and black fabric, it makes him growl with passion. Quickly, yet shakily, his left hand rises, flipping the edge of his mask up before grabbing onto your jaw. Squishing your cheeks a bit he brings you in, bare lips crashing into your own. Open mouths press together, wet and warm and familiar. And those thick fingers dig into the fabric along your hip, wishing it were bare skin. 

“Baby,” With your fingernails scraping down his chest, you have to stop yourself from digging in too deeply. But it’s difficult when he’s kissing you like this, when he’s shoving his tongue inside your mouth so he can map it out all over again. “How could you ever think I’m not attracted to you?” 

The air leaving your chest is instantly sucked back in, your chest rising and falling as you feel Simon’s hand glide down your waist. He’s bringing you in even closer, pressing your body to his, feeling your warmth. 

“Don’t you know how fucking sexy you are, Simon?”

“Get up here,” That gruff voice suddenly demands, “On my lap, B.” 

He doesn’t have to ask you twice, your eager movements are evidence of that. Slipping your shorts and panties down your legs, you leave them on the cot as you slide easily on top of him. Your thighs encase his hips as you make yourself comfortable on him, center lowered right onto his. And your lips don’t even leave, he wouldn’t allow it.

“That’s so good…” Both of Simon’s hands now fall to your hips, holding onto you firmly. 

The way his teeth nip at your lips makes you sigh, little whines spilling from your mouth when they turn into bites. And all at once, his hands are roaming your body, sliding up beneath your shirt to feel your bare stomach, the skin of your hips and sides. The way you’re embracing each other is so lustful, so impassioned and fervent. It’s like it’s the first time all over again.

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” His words make you laugh, but he’s insistent. “Every goddamn day, whether you’re working or not, even on that bloody mission, you’re stunning, B.” 

“Simon,” You begin to protest, but he continues, mouthing at your lips as he bursts with praise for you. 

“Such a pretty girl for me,” Your lover says, hips beginning to grind up against you. “Always so pretty…” 

“Ugh, I fucking missed you. I need you, Si. I need this.” Holding his face with both hands, you lean in, resting your forehead over his own as you begin to meet his gentle thrusts. “I don’t give a shit how many scars you have, how many injuries I have to see through. I’m here, Simon. I’m here and I’m not fucking leaving you.”

“I love you.” He suddenly blurts out, as if he’d been dying to say it this entire time. “I can’t lose you, B. Never opened myself up to anyone but you.” 

“I know, baby. I know… and I love everything you’ve given me. Everything you are.”

“Not everything.” Giving his head a quick shake, hands guiding the sway of your hips over him. 

“Everything.” 

Your correction prompts Simon’s direct eye contact, a small pause in this heated moment. Flickering between your irises, Ghost’s own pupils widen, filled with something akin to adoration, something made of lust and absolute devotion. 

“Simon,” Whining quietly, you resume your subtle shifts over his lap, his own hips easily resuming their pace, too. “Please, I need you again, baby.” 

“I, I just… it won’t be the same, Bones.” But he’s still kissing you, still grinding up against your sensitive core and breathing the air puffing past your lips. And you can feel him, having fully hardened and sitting firm between your legs. 

“I don’t fucking care, Simon. If you want this, tell me. And I’ll make it happen.”

“Yeah? And what’ll you do?” He asks, grinning while lifting his good hand to the back of your head.

“Ride you,” Panting, you grind yourself over the thickness of the erection rising steadily in his briefs. “Just like I used to.”

Betraying his rotten inner emotions, the ones that had convinced him you no longer saw him with the same desire in your eyes, a smirk forms on those smooth lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Devouring him, your tongue slides into his mouth, swallowing his moan while dragging the wet muscle over his own. But he quickly takes the lead, using the hand on your head to move you how he likes. He takes great pleasure in this, in having some semblance of control while you’re like this. 

“Fuck, do it.” He finally decides, his entire body shuddering with desire. “Fucking do it.”

Instantly, you’re dropping one hand from his face and reaching for his boxers. You find him easily, pulling aside the fabric and watching as he practically jumps into your hand. 

“Christ,” Red and leaking, throbbing, Simon’s cock weighs heavy in your hand.

“Excited?” Grinning wildly, you lean in, running the tip of your nose over his cheek. 

“Very.” Evidenced by the liquid warmth drooling from his cockhead, he’s correct. 

Running your thumb over his slit, you take great pride in watching him twitch. “Don - Don’t tease. Just put it in.”

It’s too damn easy for you to listen to him, to follow his every command. Lifting yourself, your eyes fall to the sight you’ve so dearly missed. And with both of you watching, you line him up with your entrance, licking your lower lip with anticipation. 

“C’mon, come down now…” His hands are pulling on your hips, becoming impatient. “Put the tip of my cock against that pretty little hole.”

Fuck, you missed this, the way he talked to you during times like this. He was always so good with it.

“Mm…” Slowly, you sink down, inch by thick inch. The whine that slips past your lips is shrill, feeling his head spread you open. But Simon is quick to hush you, bringing you in for a bruising kiss. 

“You can do it, just like before.” He says to you through sweet, wet kisses. 

“Simon…”

“Just like that, just like that, princess.” His hands continue to urge you on, pulling you down onto him. “What happened, huh? Get a little tighter without me around?”

“F-Fuck,” Dropping your head onto his shoulder boosts his confidence incredibly; your submissive side is coming out again, and it’s making him feel dominant. 

“Oh, just look at the way it stretches for me, Christ…” Feeling your velvety inside envelope his tip, it’s almost too much for him. “Such a good pussy.”

“Baby…” Turning your head, you press a flurry of fervent kisses to his mask. “I’ve needed you for so long, you don’t know how bad I’ve missed this.” 

“I know, trust me.” Releasing a dry laugh, Simon’s eyes raise with awareness. 

Clinging to his shoulders, you gasp when he finally bottoms out inside you, sitting entirely over his pelvis. And with your ass flush against his lap, he throbs violently against your walls, every thick vein pulsing beneath your core’s hot squeeze.

“Sweetheart,” Taking in a lungful of air, he says, “You know how many times I’ve thought about this? Thought about fuckin’ you again? Thought about this sweet ass on my lap, about the way this pretty pussy grips me…” 

 “Tell me,” Clinging to his shoulders, your nails dig into him once again, lips pressing to his neck. “Please tell me.”

Wrapping his right arm around your back, he pulls you flush against his chest. The sudden movement knocks you away from his neck, with Simon’s lips returning to yours all over again. The embrace is sweet and smooth, his talented lips captivating your attention. 

“Whenever you weren’t here… I took every goddamn opportunity. Fucked my fist to the thought of you, B. But, ngh…” Feeling you wiggle over his lap, he grunts. “It’s never the same. Not even bloody close.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Using those broad shoulders as leverage, you lift yourself, setting a steady pace over him. 

“Christ,” Head lolling back, his eyes follow. “Didn’t, fuck… didn’t want to pressure you.”

“I like when you do that to me. Make me feel small, and needed.” 

The stride you continue with over Simon’s lap is baffling to him, riddling his body with overstimulation. Every time you meet his pelvis, you grind down onto him, onto the grown-out hairs surrounding his base. 

“You’re always needed.” He whispers to you, kissing your cheek as it rests beside him. “Fucking hell, princess, I can feel you dripping down my shaft.” 

The sound your wetness creates resonates throughout the room, prompting a bashfulness to rise hotly in your cheeks. Dropping your forehead to his shoulder, you moan openly into his ear, feeling both of those broad hands lower to your cheeks. Summoning every ounce of strength he has, he bounces you down onto his lap, punching himself into your depths. And every thrust he gives shoves him even deeper inside, his tip nudging your most sensitive skin. 

“No,” He then seethes, moving his head in your direction. “Don’t hide yourself from me, not now. Not when I finally have you again.”

But when he turns his head to the side, his mask shifts, a bout of frustration rising within him. “Fucking, ngh.”

It’s a quick decision, one he makes out of genuine love for you. 

Reaching up, Simon tears his mask from his head, tossing it to the floor and grabbing your face again. Before you can get a good look at him, his mouth is on you, the hand he used on his mask now pawing at your breasts. 

“Take it off, love. Take this off for me.” 

But you’re still processing the fact that he just took off his mask, and you want to see him. He doesn’t let you, though, he’s too busy tugging at the ends of your shirt. So, you oblige him, leaning back to lift it from your torso. Just as it leaves your head, Simon is lifting his chin up to your chest, mouth enveloping your left nipple. 

“Baby, let me,” Hands holding his head, your own tips back, mouth falling agape with a graceful moan. 

Ghost’s mouth sucks on you fervently, tongue flicking over the delicate peak before biting at it ever so gently. 

“Please let me see you.”

Insecurity overtakes him then, now that you’ve fully asked. And you can tell - he practically curls in on himself. 

“You don’t want me to?” And with that gentle inquiry, he’s taking in a steadying breath, eyes beginning to lift. 

From beneath his brow, those dark eyes lift to yours, chin following soon after. And for the first time since this horrid incident, you’re seeing him, fully seeing him. 

“No,” Giving his head a light shake, he stares into your dazzling orbs. “Don’t stop, babe. Please, don’t.” 

And you want to listen, want to give him what he wants but it’s hard when you’re witnessing the beauty of Simon’s face. The scars, the cuts and curves, his nose and jawline, all of his features coming together as one, once again. The memory of his face was once a painful thought, but now… it can be replaced. 

“It’s so nice to see you again, baby.” 

The strength of his arms and hands continues your movement, pushing you forward onto his chest. Here, he nuzzles into you, arms securing themselves around your midsection. Simon’s nose rubs against your neck, committing your scent, your feel, to memory. 

“Only for you.” He murmurs, placing a tender kiss. “Can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” 

“You’re everything I need.” Grinding up into your center, he forces a gasp from your chest, spreading your cheeks until slight pain begins to bloom. “Christ, I’m not going to last long like this, not with these gorgeous fucking tits pressed against me like this.”

“Baby, we need this more… can we please? Please?”

“Every chance we get.” Nipping at your ear, the low groan he exudes sends a shiver right through you. 

The pleasurable waves flowing through your hips are nothing compared to the sharp jolts of ecstasy every thrust of his hips gives. At times, you think about how foolish he is to think that his strength has left him, what with the way his muscles bend and ripple with every firm grab, every harsh slap he now delivers. 

“Look at me.” Ghost demands in that deep, rough tone. “Look at me, and listen well.”

Lifting your head, you do just that, memorizing every feature of his face. Subconsciously, your hand lifts, cupping his clean jawline with your thumb stroking his cheek. 

“You’re mine, understand? Mine to fucking keep. And there’ll be no more misunderstandings between us.”

“No more,” Shaking your head, you hold his gaze, lips parting from his continued movements. “F-Fuck.”

“You gonna cum for me, huh? Just like you used to? Back when you first cared for me, back when we’d smoke in the Jeep…”

“Yes,” You don’t want to look away from him, but your head drops regardless. The pleasure flowing through your thighs turns every muscle you have to jelly, the wetness growing beneath you evidence of this. “I miss it.”

“Then give it to me, before I give mine to you.” 

The way he phrases it has you falling apart in his arms, still strong enough to keep you together on his chest. His body, thick and bulky, holds you tightly against him, feeling your limbs quiver above him. His fingers continue to dig into the softness of your cheeks before landing another harsh smack, listening to your shrill cry while you shake on his lap. It’s all-consuming, blinding, the euphoria bursting inside your body. 

“Goddamn,” Simon huffs out, his voice tense and strained. 

The grip he has on you turns bruising, his body curling around you as he releases. And his teeth bite into your shoulder as he does, the muscles in his abdomen flinching with every milky rope that leaves him. 

You can feel it, the evidence of his pleasure washing your insides white. The way he throbs against your walls, swollen and pulsing, his entire body releasing. Every ounce of worry and stress, any bit of anxiety, it’s flushed away with the help of your reassurance, of your devotion and unwavering passion. 

Fully wrapping your arms around his neck, you rest flush against him, mouth pressing to his stubbled cheek over and over again. And the next sound to delight your ears is Simon’s laugh. 

“Mm…” His groan sounds… content, relaxed. “You make me happy, B. Happier than I’ve been in… a long time.” 

“Happier than you’ve ever been,” You correct him cheekily, shuddering slightly as you come down from the pleasure he so wonderfully brings. “You can say it, baby.” 

Rolling his eyes, he gives your backside a light tap. “Don’t get cocky with it, now.” 

“Simon,” Inhaling a deep breath, you allow yourself to be fully vulnerable with him. “I don’t ever want to be that far from you again.”

And he knows what you mean. Ghost was never known as an emotional man, and likely never will be. But with you, it’s a different story. 

“You won’t be.” He reassures you quietly, calmly. “We’re here, everything’s just like it should be.”

“Mhm,” Nodding, you keep your arms around him, not wanting to let go. 

“It’s just you and me, B.”