#What is the best protein after a workout? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bee-wg · 1 month

Text

Year 2:

“Jay! What the Flip?” It’s the ass crack of dawn, and Theo is already trying his best SpongeBob impression.

“Whaaat?” I yelled back with a mouth full of pancakes.

“You put your dirty clothes on my bed again!” He squealed.

”Dude, you asked for it. What are you whining about?”

“Boys, What did I say about yelling in the morning?” She yelled.

“Yewn, bwintow!” I think Dad was telling us to break it off, but he’s too lost in the Cream Cheese Danish.

Can’t blame him. Delicious and high protein? There’s nothing better.

Theo rushed down with a constipated face.

“Ewww. They’re still wet to the touch. Wait. Is it dripping sweat?”

Okay. I overlooked the wet part, but he asked me to have it.

I’ve been cleaning out some gym clothes that don't fit anymore, and Theo wanted some. I’ve decided to fully commit on football and my stocky phase, so I gave that shirt one last try yesterday. It was definitely not made for a more rugged build person. As I walked around the house, I unknowingly soaked it. I used to be disgusted with sweating. I would shower and wash the clothes by hand after each morning run. Recently I’ve been sweating a lot easier, but Dad told me to look at the bright side of things, and I do see it. Usually I would only sweat when I get a real good workout. Since it's easier to sweat buckets, that means I’m getting lots of exercise.

That leads back to this. I don’t feel as compelled to wash them anymore. They’re the result of my hard work on the journey back to being shredded.

“No more pancakes in the morning for the month.” He said.

“What?…But…You can’t do that.”

His face tells me, “Yes, loser. I can.”

***

“What happened, dude? Your cat died?” Brad asked.

This is supposed to be an easy practice because it’s the last before the summer. I guess Coach woke up and chose violence.

I’ve been only doing a few yards of Quick Steps and Sumo squats. My lungs are now collapsing.

I’m only 230 pounds; there are players heavier than me doing better. I’m doing something wrong. It must be because I didn’t have protein pancakes for days.

“Dude, you there?” Brad asked.

Trying not to wheeze, I replied.

“Yeah, S’all good. I’m just hungry.”

It would be an understatement. When you’re used to protein goods pumping your belly full of energy every morning, what does five English muffins and some hash browns even do?”

“Hahaha, classic Jay. You’re the man.” Brad answers with a slap on my back.

“Gosh, you’re getting sweatier than Aiden.” He said in disbelief.

“Oh, by the way. Aiden’s going to Costco to buy a speaker for our dorm. You mind giving him a lift?” Brad asked.

“Bad timing man, my dad broke the old Toyota. It’s taking a long time to repair.”

“No problem. I’ll see you next semester then. Take care!” Brad waved as he sprinted out of the field.

***

I felt like I could eat a horse when the bus arrived. I passed through the usual stops, and finally.

The warm smell of chicken nuggets invites me.

I pull out my phone and check. Ten consecutive days. I can definitely redeem a free meal today.

“Welcome, what can I get you?” The cashier asked.

“Can I have the Double Western Deluxe Combo?” “ I have the loyalty discount.”

“Thank you, here’s your number.”

After what felt like forever, they finally called my number.

It’s a pretty big meal, but today’s situation calls for it.

I’ve been doing pretty well sticking to a fries-only diet when I’m here. With some occasional burgers and soda thrown in, I’ve accumulated a few thousand points to have meals like this once in a while. The only downside is the bus here takes way too long. I guess it’s better than the neighbours knowing I’m a regular customer.

As I finished the fries, I saw a guy wandering outside with my university’s gym bag.

Wait, is he from the team?

Wait, is that Aiden?

No. Shit, Is Aiden waving to me?

He’s probably waving to someone else.

Then the door’s jingle chimes.

“Yo, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Aiden said.

My alone time is ruined.

“Yeah man, me too. What brought you here?” I asked.

“Just bought the speaker and couldn’t find any restaurants here. I thought Costco had a food court.” He looked down at my plate.

“Whatchu havin’? Oh Damnnn, that’s a chunky burger!” He said in excitement.

“Haven’t had them in years, my mom hates that shit.”

I just wish to crawl into a hole at this point.

“Yeah, my mom hates them to-”

“I should have one too.” Aiden interrupted.

”What?”

Then he came back with a smaller combo with a box of salad.

“Oh man, I’ve been wanting to have a taste for so long,” Aiden said with glittering eyes.

He got a few bites of the burger and fries, then moved on to the salad.

“So what are you doing this summer?” I asked.

“Oh, not much. Probably hang out with the guys. My dad wants me to go to a training camp though. It’s not like I will play football after college anyway, so what’s the point?”

Then we talk about dorm drama and who the coach is going to recommend to the NFL scouts.

He is actually quite chill to talk to.

“You don’t like it?” I point down to his unfinished burger.

“No, it’s the best thing I’ve had in years. Definitely beating celery or carrots. I just have a diet going on, and I kinda impulse bought this.”

“I could finish it for you.” I offered.

“Really? Thank you so much dude!” He said.

“You’re actually pretty fun to hang out with. I always thought you had a stick up your ass.” He added unhelpfully.

By the time the last of his burger and fries disappeared in my stomach, I was ready to sleep it off when I got home.

My phone rang, waking me up from sleep. It’s 2 AM.

Probably Number Seven. He always calls at an odd hour.

I picked up the call.

“Duuuuuuude, I didn’t know you go to fast foods. I thought we don’t keep anything from each other.” Instead of number seven, Brad said.

“Jay, knock it off,” Theo grumbled on the other side of the room.

“Keep it down, Brad. What is it?”

I knew shit would get out of the bag sooner or later. At least I had two weeks of peace.

“Next time let me join too!” Brad said.

What the hell is up with these people?

“Fine, whatever. Let me go to sleep.”

“Thanks a lot, man. I’ve never had fast food before!”

I have the feeling that this is going to bite me in the ass later.

Brad is calling me. Again.

“Dude, what?” I asked calmly.

“Woah, no need to get so worked up.”

“I asked some of my mates, they all agreed to meet up at the mall’s parking lot,” Brad said.

What is going on? It’s only been five hours since he last called me.

“Don’t forget to bring your laptop and an empty stomach! It’s gonna be an epic summer.” Then he hung up on me.

I should be used to Brad’s bullshit by now. He’s been like this since high school.

The bus on the way there is as tedious as usual.

Why did he tell me to go with an empty stomach? Didn’t he know that I get really grumpy without any breakfast? It’s worse now without pancakes.

He looks at me eagerly, like a dog finding its treat.

“What is it, man?” I asked as he led me to the back of the restaurant.

Then, no Harry Potter bullshit, he opened the wall.

“What the hell? There was a room back here all this time?”

“Wait, Brad. You rented a party room?”

“It’s sick, right? I thought we could chill here for the summer, and go to the river nearby when we’re bored. Oh, I also brought the guys here. And a projector!”

“How did you afford this? I didn’t know you were rich.” I look at the big ass room with my friends in there already playing video games. Even Aiden the snitch is here.

“Oh, I have a pretty successful OnlyFans account. I thought I could spend it on you guys.”

“…”

“Good for you, man. Gotta hustle in this economy.”

He ordered a party combo with a bunch of salad. Then we started playing video games. It wasn’t until I was on a losing streak playing Yoshi on Mario Kart, I realized. They were staring at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked.

“So…Can you help us finish?” Aiden said.

Oh no. Not again. I turned to look at Brad.

He responded with a toothy grin.

“Please Jay, you have, like, the biggest appetite out of all of us. Look at all this free food going to waste. I bet you’re still hungry.”

“There are five of you,” I said.

“Marcus can help,” Brad added.

“Wait, me?” Marcus said.

He’s the team’s linebacker. The only guy bigger than me.

“Fine. At least it’s free.” I said reluctantly.

The fact that all of the juicy meat is screaming for my attention might be clouding my judgment.

We continued playing games, watched some movies while I munch

It was pretty fun. I got to talk to the people I wouldn’t usually talk to.

For example, I didn’t know Braxton played piano or Oscar was a hardcore Pokémon card collector.

The rest of the summer continued and the guys would meet up about three times a week.

I should’ve said no the second time Brad asked. But how can I let the food go to waste when the guys need me?

Marcus doesn’t come often because he’s occupied with his boyfriend. So the guys developed a way for me to eat all of their share. I would drink a dubious amount of water to expand my stomach in the morning, giving me more space.

It was incredibly stupid, but when the guys cheered me up while I devoured the last of the remains, I felt pretty proud of myself.

By the end of the summer, not wanting to waste the last of our freedom. Everyone has been scrambling for things to do.

That’s where Brad’s dad comes in. He organized a BBQ party by the beach and invited all the football Dads from high school who were still in their little group chat. Of course, we are invited too.

“Oh come on, Jay Jay. You have to go, or else I’m gonna be all alone.” Brad whined.

“No Brad. You’re gonna be with twenty people, you won’t be alone.” I replied.

“If you’re worried about not having any swim trunks that fit, you can borrow from my old man, or we could go shopping together.” Shit, he’s awfully insightful.

“Your dad is like, 500 pounds. I’m not that fat, dude.”

Then Theo asked me if he could join cause he had grown out of his swim shorts too. Whatever that means.

That’s how we ended up here with Brad showing me an ugly Hawaii print speedo with a blue Jay on it, and Theo laughing his ass off with him.

“No, I’m not going to wear that,” I said for the final time.

“You’re no fun, Jay,” Theo said.

“Right? This guy gets it.” Brad replied to him.

“So you’re the culprit who made Jay fat,” Brad asked.

”Dude, you don’t know the half of it. I basically sacrificed myself to advance his cooking career.” I added.

“I don’t know. I would think taking care of his laundry, dishes, and meals, just to have him burp in my face and snore at night makes up for it. If anything, I'm doing too much. I should stop doing the protein pancakes agai-“

”Theo! You’re literally the best chef in the world. I am honoured to be your Guinea pig for the rest of my life.” I said.

He smiled

Yes! Crises subverted.

“Hahahahaha you two are so strange.” Brad, who is still listening, said.

The possibility of protein pancakes being taken away from me sends shivers down my spine. I try to refocus on Brad’s shenanigans.

He came out of the fitting room with a professional swimming Jammer.

Why did he even take his shirt off? Goddamn washboard abs.

“Don’t you think it’s too extra for the beach barbecue?” I asked.

“I think it fits him nicely,” Theo said.

“Theo, you get me,” Brad said, then winked at him.

Is he trying to rizz my cousin?

“It’s my turn!” Theo said, grabbing a few trunks he chose.

Then he came out, without a shirt too, wearing a bright orange swim shorts.

“I see you’re putting my gym membership to good use.” Goddamn washboard abs, where did that even come from? Now that I think of it, he’s been fitting my old gym clothes better.

“You look awesome, Theo. The orange fits you nicely.” Brad said.

“I guess it’s my turn,” I said without enthusiasm.

After struggling to pull it up my ass. I walked out with the ugly print forest green trunk that’s wedged between my inner thighs; with a shirt on, thank you very much.

“Woah, look at those hefty thighs,” Brad said.

I’m out of options, and there’s no way I’m walking into another swimwear store again. So we made our way to the counter.

The day for the beach finally arrives, and I can already feel the swim trunks digging into my ass.

What’s more annoying is that Mom and Dad are now angry at me.

I would be angry at myself too.

Now I’m in a car with no AC, listening to how I should make better life choices.

“Jay, I didn’t think you would sneak off for fast food without telling us.” Mom said.

She caught the extra burgers I sneaked in to munch on at night this morning.

“Jacob, don’t you remember what I told you about garbage food?” Dad asked.

He said my full name. He never says my full name.

“If you want fried chicken you could ask mom to make it. You know it’s healthier at home.” Dad said.

“Am I not making enough, Jay?” Mom asked.

“I’m sorry Mom, I know I shouldn’t go,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, honey. We can get through this together. If you want more fried food, Theo and I will make lots of it at home.”

“I got you, Jay,” Theo said, patting my shoulder.

We finally got to the beachside. After finding a shade to park our car, Dad struggled a bit to get out of the car. It seems like the old Toyota is seeing its last days. We might need to upgrade the car soon.

I know Dad is probably not mad at me, but his disappointment was worse.

Hopefully he can forgive me after getting some barbecue in his stomach.

We started setting up the chairs with Brad’s dad as more of my high school friends and their dads started coming in. I haven’t seen most of them since we graduated.

Dad went to greet them and it looked like he fit right in.

He was the Dad everyone’s dad was jealous of but couldn’t help to like him.

I was pretty shocked when I heard Dad wanted to come because he always declined their barbecue invites.

He was the fittest of the group, but it looks like he is one of the heavier guys here. Dad told me he’s almost 260 pounds now, so Theo and I will probably lose again this year.

I feel conflicted. I wanted to look like Dad before when he had chiselled abs, but I also want to look like him now when he has a much larger presence with the same amount of confidence. I can’t do either correctly.

“You daydreaming, bro?” Brad said.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get the boxes out,” I replied.

“Just so you know, you can tell me whatever you want, Alright?” He said.

“Thanks man, appreciate it.”

He’s too pure to know about my problem with how my abs or belly doesn’t look right.

We got the tablecloth pinned in place to withstand the wind, then set up some disposable tableware.

“Good job, son,” Dad said as he patted my back.

I smiled for the first time today.

Brad’s dad put us on watch duty for the grill while I fought not to drool on the food.

I’ll get my share. Old people first.

“Jacob? You’re all grown up! You’re a big boy now, almost as big as me. I bet you made your father proud.” Mr. Lancaster said.

“Mr. Lancaster, you’re here! I didn’t know you were coming.”

He used to take me to his house with Ms. Lancaster when my mom was busy, or when Dad was substituting for other teachers.

Avery and I used to-

Wait, Avery is here?

I looked around to scan everyone.

“Oh, my boy is having a problem with his car, so he is probably not coming.” Mr. Lancaster said.

“We have the same issue too; it’s been a mess. Say hello to Avery for me, eh?”

“Of course, good to see you, Jay.” He replied.

I sighed in relief. I don’t know what to say to Avery if he comes. I missed him, but I also ignored him a couple times when I spotted him at the fast food place.

We served for an hour and a half. I probably lost the 60weight pounds I’ve gained, and my stomach is definitely deflated now.

Note to self: If I ever need to lose weight again, just stare at tasty barbecues all day just to have none of it.

“Ahem. Woah cool! Look at that shiny thing over there. I’m going to go fetch it!” Brad said suddenly, then ran off.

“Wait, you still have your-“

He ditched me.

I tried to flip over both of our grills to no avail.

“You need help?”

“Ahhhhhh!”I yelped.

Ave laughs with his usual lopsided smile.

“I thought you were,” I said.

“Dead? No. I caught an Uber.” Avery said.

“Right. Long time no see.” I reached out my hand for a shake.

“Seriously, Jay? When did you start doing that shit?” Ave said.

Same old Avery then. I took my hand back and hid a grin.

He looked so different I didn’t know how to react. By the looks of it, he’s almost doubled my weight, maybe around 450s.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good.” He said.

“You looked good too.” Now that I see him closely, it suits him, makes him look sturdy. His ass is hanging out in the back like a bra though.

“What were you up to this past year?” I asked.

“Well you know, I screwed up the football scholarship. But it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” He said.

“I was pretty depressed for a bit, so I decided to go on one of the self-searching trips to some countries and states...”

Then he told me about the kind people and assholes he met on the way, as we finally sat down with our share of Barbecues.

Ave said that he got to eat food he never imagined existed, learn about cultures that changed his perspective on things.

He said he has never felt freer of any emotional constraints than he is now. I couldn't stop my smile from forming. I’m really happy for him.

He has always been harsh on himself. When school didn’t work, he dedicated his all to sports. On his way there, I felt like I lost a friend.

We talked for hours about the airplane seats being a bitch and how he’s sorry for whoever sat next to him, or about how I am addicted to fast foods and pancakes. He’s probably the only one I know that can relate.

I was lost in the conversation, with Brad interrupting occasionally with strange looks of wiggling eyebrows or smug smiles. I really don’t know what he’s on.

It’s when Dad is folding up the seats, and Brad’s dad cleans up the grill. Ave asked me.

“Wanna do this again sometime? My dad’s coffee shop has a new brownie coming up that he’s really proud of.”

Yes, of course. I wanna learn more about you and be friends again.

“Sorry, men. School is going to be busy. I also need to focus on football more this year, or I will get too fat to play.” I said.

“No problem Jay. You know I’ll always be there for you.” Avery said.

I tried to one arm hug him and he fully embraced me. His body is so warm and unbelievably soft.

For a moment, I wished I was proud like him. But I’m not free like him

Gathering supplies Dad brought, I walked back to the car, forgetting to ask for his number.

The school year started without much fanfare. But the feeling of estrangement grew.

Hanging out with the team was fun, but playing the game just doesn’t bring me the same amount of rush and anticipation anymore, instead, I look forward to the meal after the game that brings me the rush. It’s not like I was playing the game much anyway; I’m a glorified Waterboy now. My job is to refuel the Gatorade or water, then squirt it into the guys’ mouths. After that, I just need to hand them the towel and sit back to finish my hot dog.

I know the team appreciates me. I would keep doing it for them if not for Coach’s disappointing stares. He probably thought I would be a star player like Dad, but I ended up fatter than the linebacker. I would be disappointed too.

My decision was made following the buzzing call of our defeat.

Chapter 3 ->

#male weight gain #fit to fat #exjock

802 notes · View notes

elicathebunny · 7 months

Text

HEALTH SHOULD ALWAYS COME FIRST! PRIORITISING HEALTH BEFORE EVERYTHING ELSE TO LOOK GOOD + FEEL GOOD.

People always leave out the basics when it comes to trying to improve their looks. Prioritising health is so important before going in and tempering with your body. Your base is what you work with and you can definitely level up with what you've got naturally.

DIET

Your diet also depends on what your goals are. Someone who wants to build muscle will obviously eat differently from someone who just eats relatively healthy. So identify what your goals are and work your meals around that.

Here are some videos to give you a better insight: HOW I LOSE FAT AND KEEP IT OFF MEANS, WORKOUTS + EVERYTHING ELSE PROTEIN EXPLAINED, STRENGTH, MUSCLES, FAT LOSS & ENDURANCE HOW METABOLISM WORKS

Diet not only makes you feel better from the inside, but it also reflects on your outside. Your skin is a huge display of how you eat.

When you consume junk food, it can show up on your skin as breakouts or dullness. Your skin is one massive organ which soaks up everything put onto it and reflects everything you put inside your body. Fix the problem from the inside before getting confused about why your skincare routine isn't working.

FITNESS

Again, your fitness will differentiate from your goals. So work out your goals and make a plan around that. There are so many forms of fitness, some more intense than others and with different results. Working out in general is good for you, our bodies are meant to move. So even if you don't have a goal, staying active is always recommended.

HOW TO CREATE THE PERFECT WORKOUT PLAN

THE BEST WAY TO GAIN MUSCLE, SCIENCE EXPLAINED SIMPLY

Low-intensity workouts:

Yoga: Focuses on flexibility, strength, and relaxation through various poses and breathing techniques.

Pilates: A low-impact exercise method that strengthens muscles, improves flexibility, and enhances posture.

Walking: Simple yet effective, walking is a great way to improve cardiovascular health and boost mood without high impact.

Swimming: Provides a full-body workout with minimal stress on joints, making it ideal for people with joint issues or injuries.

High-intensity workouts:

HIIT (High-Intensity Interval Training): Alternates between short bursts of intense exercise and brief recovery periods to maximize calorie burn and improve cardiovascular fitness.

CrossFit: Combines elements of weightlifting, interval training, gymnastics, and other exercises to build strength, endurance, and overall fitness.

Sprinting: Short, explosive bursts of running at maximum effort, often performed in intervals for cardiovascular conditioning and leg muscle strength.

Circuit Training: Involves moving through a series of exercises targeting different muscle groups with minimal rest in between, combining strength training and cardiovascular exercise.

These are just a few examples, but there are plenty of other workout styles out there to explore depending on your preferences and fitness goals. Walking every day is just a simple way to stay toned.

SLEEP

Sleeping is important for rest and recovery after workouts and energy-consuming activities. Sleep is needed for the brain to function, mood regulation and performance + productivity. Lack of sleep deprives you of all of these things, so getting your beauty sleep is absolutely needed.

School-age children (6-13 years): 9-11 hours per day.

Teenagers (14-17 years): 8-10 hours per day.

Young adults (18-25 years): 7-9 hours per day.

Adults (26-64 years): 7-9 hours per day.

HYGIENE

Upkeeping good hygiene is always needed anyway. Making sure you are clean (smelling good is a plus). Make sure you always wash your hands and take daily showers to remove any dirt on your body (clean those feet and your back well, don't forget them!). Taking care of your oral health must not be forgotten. Oil pulling and brushing your tongue for a healthy mouth. Make sure your hair is also getting the attention to keep it as healthy as you possibly can make it (this also depends on diet). Doing the extra things like spending time on your nails (making sure there isn't that stuff underneath them), making them pretty.

BODY CARE ROUTINE | FOR SMOOTH & GLOWING SKIN, TREATING KERATOSIS PILARIS, SHOWER ROUTINE

ENVIRONMENT

Having a stress-free environment is obviously the best to thrive in. But clearly not even being lucky enough to live like that constantly. So make sure you have that space to be on your own and have some alone time to really recharge. Keeping your space clean for a clear mind. Surround yourself with like-minded people and really set boundaries for those who prey on your mental clarity (energy vampires). Spending time in nature is one of the best ways to detach, rest time should not equal spending time on your devices. Let go and truly let yourself decompress. Mental health will improve how you carry yourself.

EMBODY YOUR POTENTIAL.

#self improvement #self worth #that girl #dream girl #self growth #glow up #self care

1K notes · View notes

femmefatalevibe · 2 years

Text

Femme Fatale Guide: Habits To Become Your Best Self In 2023

Some habits, routine ideas, and mindset shifts to help make 2023 your best year yet. Hope this helps and inspires you to reach your goals for the next 12 months. Remember to work hard and take care of yourself. Once you put your mind to it, the sky is the limit! xx

Make Your Meals Plant-Based & Produce-Focused: Center your meals around a variety of vegetables, fruits, plant proteins, potatoes, and unprocessed plant-based fats (avocado, nuts, seeds) and minimal whole grains.

Get Creative With Stress Eating Substitutions: Discover healthy swaps for your meals and snacks to ensure what you're eating without sacrificing your goals. Some simple substitutes include mixing in cauliflower rice into your whole grain rice to add nutrients/volume while slashing the calories, using half an avocado with lemon as a salad dressing over spoonfuls of olive oil, swapping meat for lentils in a chill, soups, or stir fry, choosing frozen grapes or whipped bananas with berries over candy or ice cream for a sweet treat, etc. Remember: Spices and seasoning are your best friends.

Be Mindful of Your Beverage Consumption: Consuming enough water is essential. However, if you get bored with water, add some herbal and black tea, black coffee, or fruit-filled water into the mix. Cinnamon, vanilla, and apple or peach teas are great options to satisfy cravings and prevent mindless snacking (not a substitute for food – eat if you're genuinely hungry). For the winter season, try using some pure cocoa powder with hot water, vanilla extract, and a tablespoon or two of plant-based milk for a healthy hot cocoa drink.

Prioritize Long Walks: Carve out 1-2 hours of your day to get 10-12K steps in at least 5 days a week. Go outside if possible or jump on a treadmill/walking pad to get in some movement while watching TV, talking on the phone, or catching up on some emails.

Find A Simple Resistance Workout You Love: Yoga, pilates, or an at-home weight-training or body-weight exercise you can do at home. Browse different YouTube videos for 10-30 minute workouts to try or sign up for a class in your local area to make it a more social experience (and force yourself to take accountability to show up in the first place).

Create Short & Long "Bookend" Routines: Create a simple routine for the beginning and end of the task-filled portion of your day. For most of us, these routines would be done in the morning and evening/at night before and after work, school, or doing chores/errands. Let go of the rigid idea that these routines need to be done at certain times of the day. Set yourself up to win and tailor them to your schedule. Consider these short routines (like drinking a cup of coffee/tea, reading, meditation, journaling, a walk, or a short dancing session) your warm-up and cool-down sessions of the day. Having these rituals to look forward to will give you the energy and motivation to do what you need to get done each day.

Practice This 10-10-10 Mindfulness Practice: Make time for at least 10 pages of reading, 10 minutes of meditation, and 10 minutes of journaling daily (This can include shadow work) either in the morning or nighttime to clear and reset your mindset for the day.

Take An Hour To Plan Out Your Week: It's most convenient to do this power hour on a weekend (I typically reserve an hour before dinner on Sunday for weekly planning). Write out all of your main work tasks, schedule any due date reminders (for work, bills, chores, and other life necessities), must-do errands, emails and calls or appointments to make, etc.). I like using the Productivity Planner from Intelligent Change and my Reminders app/Google calendar via iCloud to sync deadlines and times to schedule messages/tasks/bills, so everything will be in front of me at the correct time throughout the week.

Prioritize 1-3 Tasks Daily: You might need to choose one large project to work on in small chunks or select a "Big 3" for the day, depending on how complex, lengthy, and time-consuming your projects/errands or appointments are for the day. Using this method allows you to be efficient, streamline your life, and feel productive without overwhelming yourself on the regular (the fastest route to burnout).

Make A Life Admin Schedule (and Stick To It): Choose days (and times if possible) of the week to update certain spreadsheets, batch reply to less urgent messages, clean your house, do laundry, grocery shop, etc. Scheduling these tasks ahead of time eliminates half of the battle for following through on what you need to do. Eventually, you will make these tasks into habitual routines that your brain will allow you to execute effortlessly as though you're in autopilot mode.

Mind Your "Circle of Influence": Do an intake on the 5-10 people you speak to the most or value in your life. If you're an employee, it is probably best to not include your boss or coworkers in this consideration list, as you need to work amicably with them regardless of your personal feelings. Look how you feel during your interactions with your friends, family, intimate partner, or an adjacent love interest. Consider how they speak to you, about themselves, and the topics your conversations are focused around. See if they align with the person you want to be and your goals. Evaluate how close you want to be and what parts of your life you think would be the most beneficial for you and the relationship going into 2023.

Set Boundaries: Understand your expectations, non-negotiables, and limits in every area of your life. Communicate these principles to others clearly, so they know when they are overstepping. Don't tolerate disrespect, but also don't expect others to be mind-readers. If someone knows that they're crossing your boundaries, it is easy to draw the line in the sand and walk away without the guilt or shame that can arise when conflicts originate from a lack of healthy communication.

Incorporate One Creative Practice Into Your Week: Reinvigorate your mind by engaging in at least one hour of creative activity per week. Try drawing, creative writing, poetry, singing, dancing, painting, pottery, jewelry making, graphic design, photography, etc. Even taking a foreign language course or creating a Pinterest inspiration/mood board or organizing your home/closets in an aesthetically-pleasing way counts. Figure out what creative outlet(s) you find satisfying. Prioritize scheduling this practice into your schedule weekly.

Refine Your Signature Look: Edit your wardrobe, try out a new haircut, or change up your makeup routine, nail color, or signature scent. Consider how you can close any gaps between your authentic personal style and how you present yourself on a day-to-day basis. Create an inspiration board if needed to help yourself define your unique aesthetic and gradually work towards embodying your ideal look.

Keep A "Praise" Archive: Create a record of all of the messages you receive highlighting your achievements, milestones, recognitions, or compliments. Compile a folder that acts as your "praise" archive for every area of your life. Create a folder in your work email inbox to save all of your professional achievements, praise, and positive contributions. Do the same for your personal email. Create a folder in your photo album of screenshotted texts. Keep a running list on your "Notes" app of any compliments you receive on your conversational contributions, actions, attire, personality, smile, etc. Hyping yourself up to connect to your highest self.

Create A "Siren" Kit: Take note of all of the clothing, scents, songs, cosmetics, phrases, people, and other aspects of your environment that empower you to feel your sexiest. Keep all of these items/songs/texts together to make it simple to set the mood before engaging in some indulgent action or revisit when you need a boost of confidence throughout your week.

Do A Financial Audit: Create an income/expenses spreadsheet to understand your current spending behavior and budgeting plan going forward. Set up your 2023 financial goals and projections, including target amounts for income, savings, and investments.

Give Yourself A Weekly "Treat": Find a healthy indulgence that you can strategically incorporate into your week. This "treat" can be a massage or nail appointment, permission to watch a movie or a couple episodes of a TV show, a serving of your favorite dessert or a glass of wine, etc. Life is meant to be enjoyed. Consider regular indulgence as an act of self-care not as a sign of weakness or self-destruction. Embracing pleasure does not require guilt or external permission.

Happy New Year, loves! Cheers to an abundant 2023 xx

#femme fatale #dark femininity #dark feminine energy #the feminine urge #it girl #dream girl #queen energy #high value woman #high value mindset #goal setting #success mindset #loa #loa success #female excellence #female power #femmefatalevibe

5K notes · View notes

davenporttf · 1 year

Text

Gaynz: Luke

Luke was loving the results of the protein powder his best friend, Dillon, gave him. He was working hard at the gym to gain muscle but it was proving to be extremely difficult. Dillon stopped by Luke's place and gave him a new powder he never heard of before called "Gaynz." He said it was the best protein powder out on the market, and it would get him seriously shredded.

Luke prepared his protein shake and headed to the gym. He always saved his shake for after an intense workout to replenish his body with protein. After a killer workout, he slipped out of his gym clothes in the locker room. He chugged the drink and he felt the effects immediately. His veins bulged out of his skin as protein surged through him. His body began to inflate with every pump of blood. Wave after wave, his pecs ballooned with pure muscle. The fat that was giving him such a hard time melted away to reveal an 8-pack. His arms cracked and shifted as his biceps gained mass, and his arms became heavier. His legs became sturdier and his glutes inflated to fill out his boxers.

"Bro! This shit is crazy!" His boy Dillon really came through. He needed to head over to his place to show him. He got into his truck and drove out of the parklot. With his large arms on the wheel driving down the highway, he felt a contraction in his shorts. His boxers were starting to tighten around his ass. "Ughhh, the fuck?!" He felt the material of his boxers began to shift and move up his cheeks. It began to round his dick in the front, and mold into two straps around his ass in the back. With one hand on the wheel, he pulled down his shorts to reveal a hot pink jockstrap where his boxers used to be.

He was dumbfounded, and felt like he was losing grip on reality. He was starting to love the way the jock wrapped around his muscle butt, outlining his best asset when he snapped out of it. "No! This is crazy! I need to find out what Dillon put in this shake." He finally reached Dillon's and pulled into his driveway.

As he turned the car off, he felt a tingle in his dick. He pulled down his shorts to catch sight of his dick shrinking in the jock. He squirmed in his seat from the sensation of his bulge going from a mound to a thimble. He needed to talk to Dillon now. He walked up to his door, the mesh shorts sliding against his bare ass. He knocked on the door, and Dillon answered with a smile on his face.

Luke wasted no time, and pushed Dillon backwards into his house and pinned him against the wall. "The fuck did you give me, bro!!" Dillon chuckled unaffected by Luke's demeanor.

"Let me go and stand at attention." he said calmly. Luke felt himself resisting against his body as he backed away from Dillon. His arms went rigid against his sides and he stood tall in his best friend's living room.

"I see the shake has been working wonders for you, bro. I forgot to tell you that it also makes you super submissive as well."

Luke's guard started to come down as he started liking the idea of being dominated by his best bro. He snapped back again, "No, bro! Wtf! I'm not into dudes!"

The words fell on deaf ears, as Dillon moved closer to Luke. "I want you to be the little bitch I always thought you to be. Take off those shorts, and get on my bed, slut."

Luke's resistance was no match for being called what he truly was. He became filled with lust for such dominating language. He pulled down his shorts, and crawled onto his buddy's bed.

Dillon pressed himself up against Luke's ass, and started to slap his dick against his cheeks. With every smack of his bro's dick, his thoughts became more and more aligned with that of a pure bottom bitch. His 2" dick didn't needed to be the center of attention anymore, and he only felt the need to be dominated by his best friend.

Dillon dropped a wad of spit onto Luke's revealed hole. The splash against his hole was driving Luke crazy. He leaned further back as Dillon slid his 8" cock into his perfectly round bubble butt. "Ohhhh fuckkkkkk brooo" Luke moaned as Dillon thrusted into him.

"That's right my big slut. You only serve to be my fucktoy." Dillon said in a deep sultry voice while he piledrived Luke's bussy. Luke's reality continued to shift away from his straight fuckboy life to being a perfect muscle stud for his bro to enjoy when he desired.

Luke began to diddle with his tiny cock as Dillon hammered his p-spot over and over again. "Such a good slut. Here comes your reward." Dillon said as he slammed into Luke one final time. Wads of cum shot into Luke filled him with the juices of his master. The sensation sent Luke over the edge and he came into his pink jockstrap.

Luke slowly flipped over onto his back and looked up at Dillon with a small belly bulge from all the cum in his abdomen.

"I'm ready for round 2 when you are, bro." Luke said smiling.

--------------

Two stories today for the long wait :)

#gay tf #mental change #straight to gay #reality change #gay jock #jock #male transformation #muscle tf #mind control #belly bulge #gaynz

1K notes · View notes

transform4u · 9 days

Note

My boyfriend is super turned on by the idea of me turning straight. I don't get it but it's his fantasy.

Is there any way you can do that while letting me still be close to him? Like making sure I'm not homophobic when I turn and I can be his best friend at least?

As the night settled in and you and your boyfriend lounged on the couch, a cozy vibe had enveloped the apartment. You were deeply immersed in Watch What Happens Live with Andy Cohen, your laughter mingling. The comfort of the couch and the warmth of the moment made it all feel perfect—until the sudden, inexplicable noise shattered the tranquility.

A loud, jarring snaaaaaaaaapppp reverberated through the apartment, and the TV screen flickered with an unsettling intensity. In an instant, the show was replaced by a chaotic football game. The teams were a blur of color and motion, their logos unrecognizable as they dashed across the screen. You and your bofriend exchanged a look of utter bewilderment. Confusion danced in your eyes as you both instinctively reached for the remote.

But before you could even touch it, a searing heat shot through your hand. A wave of pain rippled through your entire body, spreading out like wildfire. As the pain intensified, your bodies began to change in ways that defied logic. You felt your legs part involuntarily, the couch seemed to shrink beneath you.

Your once lean and lithe form burgeoned, and you felt yourself growing taller, your muscles swelling like they were pumped full of adrenaline and gym-bagged protein powder. Each inch added to your height brought with it a new layer of muscle—biceps that now rivaled grapefruits, a chest like an impenetrable fortress, and abs that could slice through steel. Your shoulders were so broad they could serve as landing strips for small aircraft. Your face, framed by a sunburn that spoke of endless days in the sun, was marked by a square jawline that could cut glass, and your cocky smirk seemed permanently etched into your features. Your eyes squinted with the kind of intensity only found in those who have lived on a diet of pre-workout and relentless gym sessions.

Beside you, your bro-friend underwent a similar metamorphosis. His transformation was nothing short of Michelangelo’s finest sculpting after a bender of keg stands. His triceps flexed on their own, a testament to his relentless dedication. His quads could have doubled as life rafts, and his torso was a living mountain range, displaying a V-taper so extreme it could have been photoshopped. His face, perpetually adorned with a rugged five o'clock shadow, spoke of late nights and unending revelry. His bloodshot eyes glinted with the anticipation of the next party, and when he grinned—a sight to behold—his white teeth gleamed brilliantly against his tanned skin, an impressive display of someone who’s lived for the sun and the fun. Dumb chuckles bubbled up from within as the football game continued to rage on, the absurdity of the situation only fueling your laughter. You flexed your massive biceps involuntarily, your abs rippling as you shifted on the couch, while your bro did the same, his massive shoulders rolling with every motion. You leaned back into the couch, the heat of the moment blending with the heat radiating from your muscular frames. The game played on, but all you and your bro could do was laugh, marveling at the incredible absurdity of it all.

With a roar of glee, you raise your fist high in the air, colliding with your boyfriend's in a resounding smack that echoes through your aparment "That's right, suck it!" you cheer as the Jets score another touchdown. The entire room quakes from the force of your exuberant high five.

All around you, the once spotless apartment descends into utter chaos - empty beer bottles topple off the shelves, porno magazine covers fly everywhere, pizza boxes accordion out in every direction as the floor shifts underfoot. The pristine couch creaks ominously as it's subjected to a relentless pounding from your giant new bodies. Duct tape peels off the walls, clothes tear as muscles bulge obscenely. The pungent aroma of collegeboy sweat mingles with Axe and Doritos and beer.

A sudden buzz reverberates through your enhanced hearing - your phone. Fishing the device out of the gym bag that used to be your backpack, you swipe open the text message from Misty. She sends a photo accompanied by the simple caption: "miss u 2nite ;)" You show the picture to your brother-in-arms, grinning widely as you bring the screen closer to his face. "Does she have like, a sister or something?" He raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, glancing back down at the image. "Bro! That would be sick!"

You let out a snort of laughter as memories of your wildest one-night stand with Misty flash through your mind. That night still haunts you in the best way - the taste of her sweet cherry lipstick smeared across your face, the sounds of her whorish moans filling your ears as you pounded into her tight little holes, the feeling of her nails raking down your back leaving red welts in their wake. She rode your cock like she was possessed, bouncing on it wildly until she threw her head back with a silent scream, tits swinging as you bottomed out inside her over and over again until you both collapsed into a sweaty heap. "Bro…" you say lowly, voice rough with lust, "you gotta see this chick."

Before your bro can respond, a primal hunger rises up inside you as you imagine sinking your teeth into Misty's soft neck while she screams in ecstasy. Your dick immediately begins stirring to life in your tiny gym shorts, straining painfully against the fabric. Adjusting yourself with one massive hand, you give yourself a firm squeeze and groan at the pressure building inside. "God damn…just thinking about fucking that slutty little bitch turns me on," you mutter, rubbing the bulge in your shorts as your brother chuckles beside you.

Memories flood your mind of days as the most notorious frat boys on campus brings back a flood of memories - late nights filled with cheap beer, stale pizza, and even cheaper women willing to spread their legs for a few dollars and a bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon. You and your bro-in-arms were the epitome of frat house antics, constantly scheming up new ways to get girls drunk on Natty Light and show them a good time.

Whether it was streaking through the quad at midnight, attempting to "flash" the girls walking by, or having a keg stand contest in the dining hall that ended with your bro launching a full Red Cup straight at the RA's head, there was no stunt too wild or stupid for the two of you. The campus police were always on your tail, but you were always three steps ahead. By day you were up to no good, pranking dorm mates and setting off alarms. By night, you were the kings of the party scene, ruling over the dance floor like alpha males. Girls wanted to be seen with you and your bro, even if they didn't always stick around for breakfast.

#gay to straight #male tf #douchebag tf #jock tf #dumber #ask #short snap #short tf

181 notes · View notes

disciplined-cornfed · 8 days

Text

Rome wasn't built in a day

Alex had never expected his college life to take this kind of turn. He’d moved to New York for school, planning to live on campus like most students, but when he found a better deal on an off-campus apartment that financial aid would cover, he jumped on it. The apartment was in a decent neighborhood, close to the subway, and the landlord didn’t ask too many questions. Seemed like a win.

What he hadn’t planned on, though, was Frank—his new roommate.

Frank was… something else. The guy was like a time capsule from a decade ago, straight out of Jersey Shore. From the gelled-back hair, the deep tan, ridiculous yelling at football and ufc matches every weekend, the flashy chains, to the relentless love of tank tops and gold watches. Alex wasn’t sure if Frank was for real or if this was just an elaborate, extended joke.

But here’s the thing: despite his douchey exterior, Frank was actually a pretty nice guy. Sure, he blasted club music at ungodly hours and flexed in the mirror every time he passed it, but Frank was always chill. He’d offer Alex food whenever he cooked, made sure the apartment was clean, and always gave him a heads-up when he had people over. Plus, Frank clearly knew what he was doing in the gym. The guy was shredded, and Alex had to admit, Frank’s discipline when it came to his diet and workout routine was impressive.

It didn’t take long before Alex’s curiosity got the best of him.

One day, after weeks of seeing Frank pound protein shakes and head to the gym religiously, Alex asked him for some advice. He had always been a casual gym-goer, but seeing Frank’s dedication made him wonder if he could up his own game.

“Yo, Frank,” Alex said one afternoon as they sat in the living room. “What do you usually eat for those gains, man? And how do you stay so consistent?”

Frank grinned, pausing the DJ Pauly D remix playing on his speakers. “Bro, it’s all about focus foods and the right lifts. Stick to lean meats, eggs, beans, lots of veggies. And you gotta hit the weights hard. No shortcuts.”

Alex nodded, scribbling down some notes on his phone. “Got any recommendations? Like content or something I can watch?”

Frank’s grin grew wider. “Oh, for sure. I’ll send you some stuff. There’s Dom Mazzetti, Vinny Guadagnino—some good shit, bro. But hey, I’ll send you my playlist too. Got a WAV file I use at the gym that keeps me hyped.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “A playlist?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s got some fire tracks. Also, I threw in some personal affirmations underneath it, helps me stay focused during my lifts. You probably won’t even notice them, but they help, bro. Trust me.”

Alex wasn’t really buying into the whole “subliminal affirmation” thing. It sounded like some weird self-help nonsense. But Frank was shredded, and if these little tricks worked for him, maybe they were worth a shot.

Later that evening, Alex plugged in his headphones and hit play on Frank’s WAV file. It started with “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky Me”—a male cover that felt oddly calming. The song transitioned into upbeat remixes like “Fireball” and other club tracks that seemed to pump adrenaline into his veins. Somewhere in between, Sinatra’s smooth voice made an appearance, bringing a strange, nostalgic energy to the mix.

As the playlist played, Alex caught faint whispers beneath the music—barely noticeable. “You love the gym. You crave the weights. Tanning makes you feel amazing. You rep the Italian pride with every lift.”

He chuckled to himself. This subliminal shit can’t be real, he thought. But, whatever—Frank swears by it.

The playlist ended with “Lucky, Lucky Me” again, and as Alex dozed off that night, the tune echoed faintly in his head.

The changes didn’t happen overnight, but as the days went by, Alex began to notice subtle differences. It started with his workouts. He’d always been someone who worked out occasionally, but now there was something different. One morning, as he walked past the gym on his way to class, he felt an urge—a need to lift. It wasn’t just about getting in shape anymore. Something about the weights called to him, pulling him in.

He ended up inside, grabbing a set of dumbbells and diving into a full workout. By the time he finished, he was drenched in sweat, but instead of feeling exhausted, he felt exhilarated. There was a rush—an energy that coursed through him, leaving him wanting more.

From that point on, the gym became part of his daily routine. At first, he didn’t even realize it was happening. He started following Frank’s tips—lifting heavier, focusing on compound movements, and pushing himself harder with each session. His muscles responded quickly, growing faster than they ever had before. His shirts started to fit tighter, hugging his chest and arms in ways they never had before. Every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t help but flex, admiring his progress.

It wasn’t just the gym either. One afternoon, Alex caught himself in front of the bathroom mirror, noticing how pale his skin looked under the fluorescent lights. Without thinking much of it, he booked an appointment at the tanning salon down the street. After his first session, he looked at himself in the mirror, marveling at the golden glow on his skin. It made him feel good, confident—like he was stepping into a new version of himself.

Tanning became part of his routine, just like the gym. He started looking forward to that golden glow, the way it made his muscles stand out more, and how it just felt right.

One weekend, Alex found himself wandering into a clothing store, drawn to a section of tank tops with bold prints—Italian flags, American flags, vibrant colors that screamed confidence. He picked up a few without thinking twice, the fabric feeling perfect against his newly defined arms. When he got home and slipped into one of the tanks, he stood in front of the mirror, flexing his biceps. The tank hugged his body in all the right places, and as he admired his reflection, a grin spread across his face.

Damn, I look good.

It wasn’t just the clothes that made him feel this way—it was the pride, the feeling of representing his heritage with every lift, every flex. It felt right.

The most surprising change came with his voice. At first, it was barely noticeable—a slight shift in his accent, a few new words slipping into his vocabulary. But as the weeks went on, the transformation in his speech became undeniable. His voice took on a thicker Jersey inflection, and words like “bro” and “yo” started slipping out naturally, almost without him realizing it. He spoke with more confidence, more swagger, his words carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before.

He even noticed how loud he’d become, but it wasn’t obnoxious—it felt like he was owning the room. His friends started to comment on it, but Alex didn’t mind. It felt like the way he was supposed to talk, like his voice was finally matching the rest of his transformation.

One night, Alex found himself scrolling through YouTube, where he came across a Dom Mazzetti video. He clicked on it, expecting to laugh at the over-the-top persona, but something else happened. As Dom joked about gym culture, diet, and lifting, Alex found himself nodding along, relating to the lifestyle. The gym wasn’t just a place to work out anymore—it was part of who he was becoming.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Alex’s days revolved around the gym, tanning, and repping his heritage with pride. He found himself following more content creators who embodied the same mindset—guys who lived for the grind, the lifts, and the pride in who they were.

His roommate Frank noticed the changes, too. “Bro, you’re looking jacked,” Frank said one afternoon as Alex flexed in the mirror before heading out to the gym. “You flexing the gains hard now.”

Alex grinned, running a hand through his hair, which he’d started gelling back every morning. “Yeah, man. It just feels right, you know?”

Frank clapped him on the shoulder, a proud smirk on his face. “Told ya. Once you get in the groove, there’s no going back. You’re one of us now, bro. Tanning, lifting, and heritage. Welcome to the crew.”

Alex chuckled, feeling Frank’s words sink in. Wasn’t just about the workouts or the diet no more. It was the whole package—the attitude, the pride, the way he carried himself. He’d become confident, bold, and unapologetic. The gym had become his temple, and every flex in the mirror, every perfectly tanned muscle, reminded him of how far he’d come.

He spoke with more confidence now, his voice carrying a thick Jersey accent that seemed to come naturally. Words like “bro” and “yo” slipped out effortlessly, and he found himself embracing the louder, more assertive side of himself. Even his walk had changed—there was more swagger, more presence.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later, Alex and Frank were sitting in the living room, scrolling through profiles of potential new roommates. Their lease was ending soon, and they needed to find someone to fill the third room. Frank leaned back in his chair, sipping a protein shake as he swiped through a list of candidates.

“Yo, check this one out,” Alex said, pausing on a profile. “Marco Ricci. Italian last name.”

Frank raised an eyebrow and leaned in, studying the screen. “Oh shit, an Italian? That’s promising.”

They opened Marco’s profile, but instead of seeing someone flexing or rocking a tan, Marco looked... pretty regular. He wasn’t out of shape, but he wasn’t exactly lifting heavy either. Pale, with a pretty average physique, he was the kind of guy who didn’t seem to spend much time at the gym. His shirt was plain, and his expression, while friendly, was far from the confident swagger Alex and Frank had come to expect in their circle.

Alex chuckled, nudging Frank. “Dude’s kinda pasty, huh?”

Frank smirked. “Yeah, bro. Definitely needs some work. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know? He’s got the Italian blood—that’s what counts. We can mold him.”

Alex nodded, his mind already racing. Marco might not be there yet, but with the right guidance, who knows? The guy had potential. He just needed some direction.

“Yeah,” Alex said, swiping right on Marco’s profile. “We’ll get him there. If he’s down to move in, I have the perfect playlist in mind."

Frank chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “Bro, he won’t know what hit him.”

Alex grinned, flexing in the mirror nearby. “Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?”

Frank laughed again, raising his protein shake in a mock toast. “Damn straight, bro."

WANNA BECOME A GUIDO FOR REAL? Try this subliminal:

Guido Subliminal (Accent, Mindset, Discipline, Extreme Confidence)

#male transformation #reality change #nerd to jock #guido tf #guidotf #jocktf #alpha tf #alpha jock #heritage tf #italian tf #gymbro #gymlife #guido #douchebagtf #subliminals #discipline #male tf #youtube

179 notes · View notes

miguelhugger2099 · 3 months

Text

The Best Thing

Summary: Miguel O’Hara, star Quarter back of the Nueva York Spiders, lives lavishly with all he could want. What he didn’t want is a little girl popping up at his doorstep claiming to be his daughter. The Game Plan AU. Next>>> Football Player!Miguel x Ballet Teacher!Reader, Gabriella is Miguel’s daughter, No warnings Art: On the right: ethiobirds on tumblr! Left: rusticfurnace on twt A/N: First chapter! DC: for myself and for my fwiends on discord :3c

Star Quarterback of the Nueva York Spiders, Miguel O’Hara was proud of his ability and status. He had a loyal and passionate fanbase, women lining up for a date and money that could last lifetimes. It was hard work, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. To be in top shape, he started his mornings exactly the same. He woke up at 6:00 am, takes a shower at 6:05. Breakfast with his usual protein smoothie at 6:30 and then a quick morning workout until he headed to his next football game in the playoffs. On the field, his team destroys the other one, winning in a landslide. Miguel tries to make the final win by running across the field, passing his teammates and curving past the enemy team that has been tackled. The cold December air nips at him as he rushes across the green landscape, his chest burning since he’s pushing his body to its limits.He spots one of his friends in front of him, Peter B. Parker with his hands up, running towards the goalpost as well. Miguel ignores it, speeding up to make a touchdown all by himself and taking that win proudly. The crowd roars in cheers, fans jumping up and down and waving the red and blue Nueva York Spiders flag. Miguel smiles, eyes scanning the sea of people and he breathes in the air–all of it fueling his pride. He takes off his helmet, sweating running down the sides of his face, his hair sticking to his skin. He bathes in the adoration of thousands of people, the cheers of his name while his team walks away to the locker room and leaving Miguel be. After a few days, Miguel throws a New Year party. Models, his teammates and other friends of his attend his penthouse. Miguel meets with his new fling, a pretty black haired model. He stops her before she leaves, his hands helping her put on her fur coat. “I have to catch the last flight they have to Paris. The shoot started early and my agent isn’t one to be messed with, you know that.” She turns around to face Miguel, her hands resting on his chest. “I’ll miss you.” Miguel takes one of her hands off his chest to kiss her knuckles. “I don’t want you to miss me too much so I got a little something for you.” Dana gasps, her surprise evident. “Close your eyes.” Miguel whispers and she does as he says, smiling to herself. Meanwhile, Miguel takes a step into his walk-in closet, shelves filled to the brim with the same Chanel jewelry but different names labeled under each one. He mumbles her name to himself, searching through the alphabetical order of various different women’s names. He plucks hers off the shelf and returns back in front of Dana. “Open your eyes.” He whispers and lifts the bag up to her. Dana gasps again, grabbing it and lifting it closer to see the brand name. “Oh my God! Channel!” She squeals. Miguel’s smile tightens. “Or Chanel.” He corrects her. Dana lifts herself up to kiss him and Miguel returns it with his hand on her cheek. “I’ll see you, Mikey.” She brushes her lips over his before slipping from his arms and waving him off with her fingers. Miguel rests his hand on her lower back, teasingly running down to rest on her ass. “See you.” He says smoothly and opens the door for her, watching her leave down the hallway. The party continues without a hitch but just a bit before midnight, He sees Peter walking towards the door. “Woah, Parker. Where’re you going?” Miguel stops Peter before he exits his penthouse. Peter pauses and his shoulder sinks slightly before turning to face Miguel. “Is it past your bedtime?” Peter sighs again, knowing what other bullshit Miguel might say. “It’s New Year’s Eve. I wanna see my wife, kiss my kid.” Surprisingly, Miguel takes out his hand for a shake. “Alright. Thanks for coming. Happy New Year” Peter stares at his hand for a moment before taking it. “Happy New Year. See you at practice.” He says while the shake turns into a quick hug. Peter feels a hand shove itself into his coat pocket and Miguel takes out Peter’s wallet with a loud laugh. Peter rolls his eyes. “Mig, give it back. Seriously.”

Miguel opens the wallet, peeking through the credit cards and dollar bills. “I’m trying to find Peter’s man card but it looks like MJ already took it from him.” He laughs and slaps the leather wallet back in Peter’s hand. “Lighten up, Parker. Live a little.” Peter shoves it back in his coat pocket. “This isn’t living, Mig.” He frowns and leaves the penthouse, the air between the two friends being a little tense. His other teammates beside him laugh, muttering how it was funny and to not think about it, patting him on the back. Miguel turns to the celebration. “Who’s ready to party?!” Miguel shouts, the attendees cheering and clinking their champagne glasses, welcoming him back to the crowd. Far into the end of the night, Miguel shoves the rest of his friends out his door after the party had ended. Their protests fall on deaf ears as it finally turns quiet once the door shuts. He sighs and looks down at his bulldog Santos barking. He breaks into a smile. “Santos, I haven't seen you all night, papa.” Miguel rests on one knee to pet the sides of Santos’ head. “You want a treat?” He hums, grinning as the dog pants and barks once more. Miguel jumps towards the kitchen and grabs a football shaped cookie and pretends to duck and swerve around Santos like he would on the field. “Come on, Santos! Defenders are coming around!” Santos runs to the other side of the living room, barking as Miguel shouts out. “He throws!” The cookie is thrown and Santos jumps up, devouring it in three bites. “And touchdown! They’re going crazy!” He mimics the cheers of the crowd with a laugh but it slowly dies down as he realizes there’s no sound. No cheers and no one else in the room. Just him. He sits down on his couch with an exhausted sigh.

The next morning, he decides to rest before heading into practice later in the afternoon. Santos is beside him on the couch, Miguel aggressively patting his body. “Now for our favorite part of the day–the new special on Miguel O’Hara.” He smiles and scratches his legs on the coffee table in front of him, Santos grunting and resting his head on his front paws. Miguel clicks the remote control for his TV to turn on on the sports channel. It opens with high praise calling Miguel the king on the field and acknowledging his agility. Then, it moves to an interview–an exclusive–of Miguel’s passion for the game. He smiles through it all, admiring himself and the answer he gave. “Beyond that field, nothing else matters.” The host shrugs. “If nothing else matters, why does that championship ring elude O’Hara?” Taking a jab at the fact that the Nueva York Spiders somehow managed to slip up just before the championships. Miguel’s demeanor changes to annoyed, turning up the volume as the host continues to critique the man. “Some of the experts say, he’s too selfish when it comes to–” Miguel speeds up the broadcast, making the host sound high pitched and squeaky until he pauses. “Time is ticking, Mig. Ticking on your career.” Miguel shuts off the channel, throwing his remote to the other couch. “Blah, blah, blah! Whatever!” In the middle of whining to himself, he gets a call from the lobby. He rests his arm on the back of the couch. “What?” He grunts. The caller is one of the doormen, Larry. “Mr. O’Hara, I have a visitor here at the reception. A Gabriella Monroe here, sir.” Miguel racks his brain for a face to the name but he comes up short. “I don’t know any Gabriellas.” “It’s a young lady.” He says, almosting invitingly. This catches Miguel’s attention. “Is she cute?” “Oh, yeah. Very.” Miguel becomes excited, anticipating for another woman on his roster. “Well, don’t make her wait. Send her up.” Before Larry can respond, Miguel hangs up the phone. Back at the lobby, Larry chuckles to himself. After a few minutes, the doorbell rings. He hums to himself and swerves his way to the door and opens it. He brushes his hair back, his elbow leaning on the doorframe. “Hello.” He purrs. He looks left and right. No one is there. Thinking it’s some prank, he shrugs and lifts himself off the doorframe. “Goodbye.” He mutters, but as he shuts the door, a tiny and squeaky voice pitches in. “Hey!” Miguel finally looks down and he sees a little girl holding a doll and a pink tote bag–a pink suitcase behind her. She smiles up at him, her teeth a little crooked and her dark wavy hair resting a little over her shoulders–a pink headband at the top of her head.

Miguel’s smile drops to disgust, visibly disappointed. “I don’t want any girl scout cookies, kid.” He kneels down to her level and flexes his bicep. “I gotta stay healthy and strong. Indestructible. Just try and hit me.” The little girl's smile drops as well, her bushy eyebrows furrowing into one of confusion. Still, Miguel urges her on. “C’mon! Try.” Gabriella shrugs, balling up one of her hands into a fist and punching his chest. Miguel laughs, her attempt feeling like a tickle. He imitates her punch. “That’s cute. Real cute. Bye.” He chuckles and closes the door. He tries to walk away from it but the doorbell rings again. His playful act dies out and he storms back to open the door–the little girl staring up at him through her eyelashes, a frown on her face. “Look, I don’t know what you’re selling, kid but I have a hundred right here.” He pulls out two hundred dollars from his pocket and shows it to her but she shakes her head. “I don’t want any money.” She murmurs. “I want–” Miguel stuffs the money back in his pocket, seeming like he finally knows what’s up as he cuts her off. “I know, I know what you want.” She perks up. “An autograph from Miguel O’Hara! Everyone wants them–babies, ladies. You’ll sell it but I'll give it to you for free–just for you– because that’s just how I am. Generous, aren't I?” He chuckles. “Be right back.” He enters back inside but she scurries inside with him after seeing Santos inside. The small bulldog huffs as he sits a little away from the door. She drops her stuff to the floor and kneels down to pet him all over, Santos reciprocates her energy, shaking his body happily. “You have a bulldog! Hey, there baby!” She squeals, Santos licking her chin and neck to show his appreciation. Miguel hurries up to her, shaking his hands as he awkwardly tries to stop her. “Woah, woah, easy, niña. He might attack you, he’s vicious.” He mutters with irritation. She only giggles. “Yeah, with kisses.” Miguels drops his irritation, now bothered by the fact that this child is alone. “You can’t just run into a strangers’ home, kid. There’s weirdos in this world. Didn’t your mom ever teach you that?” The little girl gets up from the ground with her head down, a little ashamed. “Yeah…” She mumbles, looking up at him guilty.

“Where is she?” Miguel asks. “On an airplane.” “An airplane? Then who are you here with?” “My father.” She crosses her hands neatly in front of her. “Then get him because he’s probably running around looking for you. She shakes her head. “He’s not looking for me.” Miguel sighs. “How do you know that?” “Because, he’s looking at me.” Miguel squints in confusion, a soft mumbled ‘wha..?’ “Hi. We’ve never met before. You were married to my mom Tempest, Tempest Monroe?” She speaks meekly, unsure–maybe even a little afraid. “My name is Gabriella. Gabriella Monroe.” Gabriella approaches with a weary smile, her head trying to look up at him. Miguel slowly connects the dots. Connecting into something that makes his heart drop when she speaks next. “I’m your daughter.”

A/N: the first three chapters will follow exactly how the movie goes and from then i'll take bits and pieces from it so it can slide into a miguel x reader :) also,,,,, no fanart of miguel as a football player, sad. taglist <3: @maiyart @aphinthestars @byjessicalotufo @mochi73 @peachey-pie @beezusvreeland @scorpihoooe @having-a-time @slut4oscarissac23 @iamperson12280

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you

313 notes · View notes

freeonlineworkouts · 10 months

Text

What is the Best Protein After a Workout?

#What is the best protein after a workout?#fitness #exercise #video #workout #weightlifting #fitness motivation

1 note · View note

captainfern · 1 year

Text

Give It To Me

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!reader

["Give It To Me" by Timbaland]

[18+]

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

• summary - you've always had a crush on your best friends older brother. looks like he has a crush on you too lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.7k • warnings - fem!reader, best friend's older brother!gaz, unprotected piv, oral [f!receiving], fingering, praise, alcohol consumption, you smoke weed with gaz, you fuck while you're high too, strong language

ok ok there are not enough fanfics of gaz on this bloody app and enough is enough i say. proud gaz whore right here 🙏 gaz nation rise up !!! also i LOVE timbaland like early 2000s music has no right to slap that hard.

this wasn't requested at all lol but hey maybe it's just a 1k special. lots of luv x

the hat stays on while we fucking— yoooo who said that that's crazy ????

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

You had always had this stupid crush on your best friend's older brother.

How could you not? Just look at him.

He was nice, funny, a bit shy but yet still such a social butterfly. He was ridiculously attractive, too, obviously. Pretty dark eyes, a perfect smile and— good lord— abs that you could see whenever he wore that tight compression shirt during his morning workouts.

Spending the night at your best friend's house was always so much fun. Yeah, your friend was the best and you always had such a good time with her. But, if you woke up at just the right time and, conveniently, went downstairs to get a glass of water, you'd run into Gaz. Compression shirt on, dampened slightly with sweat, as he stirred up his protein shake at the kitchen counter.

You'd feign innocence. Hi Gaz, what brings you up at this hour? Real subtle, you thought, considering you'd found yourself in this exact situation four times. But hey, you can't blame yourself. He just looked... so good.

So, for the longest time, it was always a stupid crush. Nothing more than that.

Until it was more than that.

The ball began to roll the day he returned home from deployment a month or so ago.

You were lounging on the couch, your best friend in the shower, when he stumbled into the house, looking absolutely beat. He saw you first as he closed the front door.

"Hey." He smiled.

"Hey, Gaz," you smiled back. "Welcome back."

"Thanks," he laughed breathlessly. "I'm so happy to be home."

He looked around the quiet, empty house. You could only just hear the shower upstairs running. Gaz exhaled through a laugh, shaking his head slowly.

"So much for a welcome committee." He joked.

"Hah, were you expecting one?" You asked, smiling.

He shrugged. "I mean, it would've been nice. I've been gone for three and a half weeks, you know, risking my life and all."

"Oh, I'm sorry, thank you for your service," you mock saluted from the couch, much to his amusement. He smiled at you, finally dumping his duffel bags in the hallway near the door. You cocked your head at him, jokingly saying: "Would you like me to be your welcome home committee?"

He faked appreciation, placing a hand to his chest and pouting. "I would be honoured. Thank you."

"Oh my god." You rolled your eyes, and the both of you laughed while you got off the couch.

You crossed the room, clearing your throat as you stretched your arms wide. "Sergeant Garrick! It's so great to have you home!"

He laughed again, smile stretching wider as he wrapped his arms around your middle, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. He leaned back, your feet leaving the ground and making you release a noise of surprise. After hugging you tight, he gently lowered you back to the floor.

"Thank you." He smiled.

You pat his chest. "Of course. Thank you for your service."

He still had his hands on your waist when you said that.

And that was only the beginning.

The ball was rolling slowly, but steadily. A few weeks later, after days of joking with one another— flirting? you weren't sure— and throwing banter back and forth, it happened again. A moment between you two that contributed to the shift in your dynamic.

He stumbled into the house in the early hours of the morning, drunk as fuck. You and your friend had been up all night watching movies, and she had only just fallen asleep upstairs. You told her you were going to get a drink of water so, as Gaz staggered into the house, you were at the kitchen sink, a half-drunk glass of water in your hand.

He was tripping over his feet, muttering something, laughing to himself. You watched him silently, as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He dropped to his knees, failing to crawl up them. He gave up, and slouched against the bannister.

"Rough night?" You asked him, placing the cup in the sink.

"Mhm," he muttered, pulling himself away from the stairs and into the kitchen. "V-very rough."

He sank onto one of the barstools, swaying slightly.

You shook your head at him, grabbing a fresh glass and filling it with water. You slid it to him, and he happily accepted.

"Thanks," He slurred, and chugged the whole glass. He pushed the empty glass back towards you. "More?"

You gave him a look as you took the glass. It was meant to be a “slow down” kind of look, but he clearly took it a different way.

"More, please, love." He said, resting his head on his arms, watching you with hooded eyes as you refilled his glass.

"Drink this one slowly," you said, giving it to him. He did, sipping at the water as you watched. "Special occasion, was it?"

He swallowed his mouthful. "Not really, but Soap's in town. He... he can drink me under the t-table, Jesus Christ. He had like... f-five hundred more pints than... than me and he walked outta there fine."

You laughed quietly. "Your fault for taking him on."

He hummed, finishing his glass. When he passed it back to you, he gave you a lazy smile. "Thanks, love."

"Sure." You said calmly. Your stomach was doing fucking backflips.

He hummed again, watching you place the glass in the sink. When you turned back around, his eyes dropped for just a moment. Not enough to make you uncomfortable, but long enough to make you say—

"My eyes are up here, Garrick."

His lips quirked further, smirk unfaltering. "I like your pyjamas."

You rolled your eyes. Short shorts, a loose fitting tee that you have no idea where it came from, fuzzy slippers.

"Whatever." You scoffed.

"No, I do," he said, still smiling. "That's my shirt."

Your body went hot.

"Seriously?"

"Mhm..." He chewed at his bottom lip.

Your best friend had loaned it to you. That bitch—

"I'm so sorry. Do you want it back?"

"Oh my god, no, don't even worry," he sounded sincere for just a moment, before: "It suits you better, anyway."

Moments like these continued to happen.

And eventually, the ball rolled to it's final destination: today, your best friends birthday.

She was pretty popular, considering she did a whole bunch of extra-curricular activities and made friends with quite literally everyone she met. So her house was packed full of people, most of whom you knew, drinking and dancing to music that would most likely cause a noise complaint further into the night.

You had had a fair bit to drink. Not enough to be absolutely pissed, but enough to have your body buzzing and your eyelids fluttering if you sat down for a bit too long. Your best friend, on the other hand, was drunk as hell. You spent half the night making sure she didn't somehow end up on the roof like last year. But that was a whole other story.

Later into the night, your friend had wandered off— safely, thank god— to join a game of beer pong in the dining room. You needed some fresh air, so you made your way onto the front porch, devoid of any people.

You could still hear the people and music pulsing together inside, and you took a deep breath, cool air filling your lungs. You felt yourself sobering up as the chilled air hit your bare skin. Probably for the best, anyway.

"Had enough, eh?"

You recognised the voice. The voice you were weirdly attracted too. Was it weird to be attracted to a voice? Probably. Maybe you were over thinking—

Gaz sat down beside you on the front step, your knees brushing.

"Yeah, just wanted to chill for a bit." You told him, the warmth of his body beside yours really making the alcohol clear out of your head.

"Fair enough," he said. "Birthday girl's had a bit to drink, hasn't she?"

You bit out a laugh. "You have no idea. I don't think I've seen her touch anything other than alcohol all night. She's gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow."

"Her fault." He said, humour in his words.

He looked over at you, taking in your face for a second. You met his eyes, head cocked slightly as he smiled at you.

"What?" You smiled.

"You smoke?" He asked.

You shrugged. "Depends."

Gaz laughed. "Depends on what?"

"Depends who I smoke with," you replied. "By myself? Sure. With your sister? Sure."

"What about with me?" Gaz asked, patting his jacket pocket.

"Sure." You said simply, the two of you fighting smiles.

•º•

A little while later, you were sitting on Gaz's bed, right beside the semi-open window. You'd never been inside his room before, so you were intent on playing it cool. It was much how you expected it to be. Simple, but him. Photos from his high school days, from his days in the military. A punching bag in the corner— which, on any other day, would have been a red flag if it wasn't Gaz we were talking about here.

He passed you the joint, fingers brushing yours. He was slouched against the bed, too, head resting on the windowsill, peering out the window. Wisps of smoke furled from his lips, disappearing into the night.

You giggled at the sight before inhaling, taking a couple of hits before rolling the joint mindlessly between your fingers. Your slightly hooded eyes watched Gaz and the way his own eyes darted across the sky, looking at the stars. Then, as you put your lips around the tip of the blunt again, his eyes fell on you.

"You good?" He asked, sitting up as you passed the joint to him.

You smiled at him. "Mhm."

The music was loud downstairs. You could feel the vibrations coursing through the walls as you leaned your head against it. You had butterflies in your stomach, a warm, fuzzy sensation in your brain and your cheeks were beginning to hurt from the strength of your smile.

Gaz took a few lazy hits from the blunt over the span of a couple of minutes. You watched him in silence, chewing at your bottom lip. You watched the way his eyelashes fluttered, how his pupils had expanded in the moonlight, and how he wet his lips with his tongue after every inhale. You now had a second heartbeat deep in your core, and you released a shaky exhale.

"You're so pretty..." You sighed, watching the way he twisted the narrow joint between the knuckles of his index and middle finger.

He hummed, eyes darting across your face. "I think that's supposed to be my line."

You giggled behind your hand, body heating up more than it already was. You shifted against the mattress of his bed, blankets bunching beneath you, smelling of him.

"You think I'm pretty?" You asked in a whisper, reaching over and plucking the blunt from Gaz's fingers. He watched you take a hit, his tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth in concentration.

He nodded as the joint tip glowed. He kept nodding, slowly, lazily, until you passed it back to him. You held it out to him, fighting a smile, wiggling it in front of his face, fresh embers flickering.

Instead, he gently grabbed your wrist— as though you were the most fragile being on earth— and pulled you closer to him. You obliged, shuffling along the bed on your knees until they knocked against his own, your silhouettes framed by the moonlight streaming in from the partially opened window.

Still holding your wrist, Gaz lowered his mouth and took a deep hit, eyes locked to yours. Your stomach flipped, brain feeling extra fuzzy and warm as you locked your eyes onto his glossy brown ones. Then, without exhaling, he gently pried the rest of the blunt from your fingers and placed it on the ashtray on the windowsill.

He pulled you closer until you were straddling his lap, thighs beneath yours. He placed one hand on the small of your back, the other cupping the side of your head. He guided your face down to his and you parted your lips in a small gasp. When your lips brushed— not quite a kiss— he exhaled the smoke into your mouth, tendrils of ghostly white passing between your mouths. You released a sound, low in your throat, as you felt the smoke swirl, bitter, into your mouth, your eyes fluttering while you struggled to maintain eye contact. Gaz responded to the sound, pulling your hips closer to his own.

You were the first to pull a way a bit. He watched you closely, eyes moving all over your face.

Your core was pulsing, your body was warm.

"Jesus..." Gaz whispered, hand rubbing carefully along the side of your face, along your jaw. "M'gonna... m'gonna kiss you, okay? Is... is that okay?"

It was your turn to nod slowly, wetting your lips.

"Mhm." You hummed, trying to hold a poorly timed giggle at bay.

He exhaled deeply, breath fanning across your face before he leaned in and captured your lips with his own. It was tame, in the beginning. Then, he licked his tongue along the seam of your mouth and you opened for him, letting him explore. You and him both moaned in unison when your tongues connected, warm and solid, tasting both bitter from the weed and sweet from the cheap alcohol. His hand moved to the back of your head, bringing you closer, tilting you in a way that he could sink his tongue deeper.

The kiss was now the furthest from tame— all tongue, teeth and spit. The wet sounds, combined with his soft whimpering and your low whines, made the kiss much more pornographic than intended. You pressed your hands down his strong shoulders, feeling the muscle, scratching your nails against the cotton of his shirt.

The hand Gaz had on your lower back moved southward, brushing along the curve of your arse and squeezing the flesh there gently. He kneaded it through the material of your skirt while you ground yourself onto his lap.

You tried to pull away from the kiss, but he chased it; eyes still closed, seeking the heat of your mouth. You let him as he whined into your mouth, the hand on your arse moving back to your lower spine.

"Gaz..." you whispered once you finally broke your lips away from his. He blinked up at you, lips wet with your shared saliva, breath coming in shallow pants.

Wordlessly, you reached around and grabbed the hand that he had on your back. You moved it between the two of you, urging him beneath the front of your skirt. His eyes grew wide in excitement, letting you guide his hand to your underwear. He cupped your core, and, for the second time that night, you moaned in unison. You were wet and warm against the skin of his palm, even through the material of your underwear.

"Bloody hell..." He muttered, dipping his fingers past your underwear, dragging them lightly against you. His eyes flicked up to yours, trying to gauge your facial expressions as he made his touch firmer, sliding two fingers through your slicked folds.

Is this okay?, his deep brown eyes asked.

You hummed a moan, your eyes finding his, replying; obviously.

His two fingers languidly sunk into your cunt without resistance, your core slick and dripping, still maintaining a steady heartbeat, which made you squirm in his lap. He sunk his fingers to the knuckle and he let out a low whine before pulling them out and repeating his actions. You keened into him, chest flushed with his, tossing your head back as his fingers began a steady pace.

His thumb crept up your core and pressed against your clit, already puffy and swollen with your arousal. Gaz moved in slow circles, listening to your body, listening to your sounds. Much like your kiss, the sound of his fingers entering your hole were loud, even over the bass of the music. Wet. So fucking wet. You could feel the glide of his fingers, the arousal that leaked into your underwear.

Gaz had his mouth agape, watching raptly as you breathed out whine after whine, face inclined towards his ceiling. He kept you firmly in his lap, having moved a hand down to your hip to keep you steady. His other hand, knuckle deep in your sopping cunt, searched for the spot inside you that'd have you seeing stars.

He found it.

He knew he did when you choked on a gasp, a beautiful moan falling from your kiss-bruised lips. You tilted your head forward to look at him, and you whined a sickly sweet "Gaz" that had his pace increasing and his cock hardening.

"S-so good, Gaz, oh my god..." you whimpered, his fingers hitting that spongey spot within you that caused your tummy to tighten, thighs beginning to quiver against his.

He applied further pressure to your clit as the blunt force of his fingers nudged you closer to climax. He was still looking at you— admiring you— basking in how pretty you looked all for him.

"Cum on my fingers, baby, that's it," Gaz whispered, leaning forward to kiss you. It was gentle, and lasted for less than five seconds, before he was pulling away to suck a hickey onto your neck. "That's it, come on. Know you can do it... know you can, love, come on. Give it to me."

You fucking gave it to him alright.

"Mmm—Gaz—!" You moaned as you hurtled over the edge, your orgasm hitting you hard and hot. Your hole clamped around his fingers, making him grunt into your neck as he fucked your through it.

He pulled off of your neck. "That's it, good girl, there you go..."

He sounded equally as fucked as you as he thrusted his fingers into you once more, then retreated. You kissed him, your mouths moving without real intent, just swapping spit with weed-tainted tongues. While you did that, he pushed you backwards onto his bed, shifting you so your head rested on his satin pillow. He crawled over top of you, only breaking the kiss to drag his mouth down your neck.

"More." You whispered to him, a smile creeping along your face as you clamped your legs around his hips.

"Yeah?" Gaz leaned back on his heels. "More?"

"Pleaseeeee." You dragged out, ripping your shirt over your head as impatience bubbled inside you. He laughed when you tossed it across the room, then quickly unclasped your bra, also throwing it away.

Tits exposed, his eyes dropped from your face, jaw slackening.

"My eyes are up here, Garrick." You laughed.

The familiar words struck Gaz across the face. He smiled at you, leaning down without words to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You exhaled a pleasured sigh, holding his head carefully as he kissed and sucked along your left tit, before moving to the other. He rubbed your waist and hips as he did so, fingers skimming the band of your skirt.

Eventually, the pleasure mounting in your core was making you impatient, so you pushed him away with as much strength in your shaky arms as you could. Gaz just chuckled. He flipped your skirt up and slipped your drenched underwear down your legs, untangling them from your ankles and flinging them across the room.

He blew out a breath, catching sight of your cunt, slick folds fucking glistening in the moonlight.

He couldn't resist. He didn't even give you a warning.

He slid his head between your thighs and licked a stripe up your cunt, sucking briefly on your clit before dragging his tongue down your folds and thrusting into your leaking hole. You cried out, hand immediately coming to clasp the back of his head, hips bucking. His nose pressed to your clit as you did that, making you whine deeply. Your thighs fastened firm around his head. He groaned, continuing to fuck his tongue deeper into you.

Your mind was warm and full of Gaz, Gaz, Ga—

He moaned into your cunt, the vibrations making your tummy tighten.

"Fucking hell," he moaned again, and you gasped in return. "So fucking good, baby, holy—"

His tongue cut him off, stuffing back into your cunt, lapping up as much of your arousal as he could with messy slurps that made your cheeks sting with pleasure. You were far too gone to be embarrassed.

His hands gripped your thighs, indenting the soft flesh. He quickly swiped his tongue upwards, circling your clit and skimming his teeth across it.

"Fuck, Gaz," You keened. "M'not gonna last, please—"

"S'okay, love, s'okay, come on," he groaned into your cunt, tongue sliding back into your leaking hole. "Come on, baby, wanna taste more. Let me— f-fuck, baby— let me h-have more."

Your second orgasm, much like the first, hit you like a fucking freight train. As the chorus of whatever song it was downstairs reached it's tempo, you came in his mouth. Your thighs trapped him to your cunt as you rode the continuous waves of pleasure, his tongue solid inside you. You bucked against his face, orgasm simmering, his nose nudging your overstimulated bundle of nerves.

When you finally loosened your hold on him, he placed one last wet kiss to your swollen clit, before literally lunging over your body and slamming his mouth onto yours. Hastily, and with little words exchanged between the pair of you except for moaned curses, Gaz stripped. His clothes meshed with yours on the floor, and soon, the solid weight of his cock was in your hand as you helped guide it to your cunt, your legs parted for him.

He watched you stroke him, notching his cockhead at your dripping entrance with a soft giggle-turned whimper. He smiled, fucked out, as he took your hand and brought it back to your face. He made you lick it, before wrapping it back round his cock and moaning loudly. He used your hand to pump himself, his own fingers large over yours. Pearls of pre rolled from his tip, smearing against your fluttering hole.

His other hand adjusted the way your skirt was still flipped up over your lower tummy. He played with the material of it while you pumped his cock.

"Pretty..." he remarked, tugging at the soft fabric.

"Mmm... wore it for you." You drawled, nudging his sensitive tip through your slick folds.

He whined a fuck. "Did you now?"

"Mhm..."

He removed your hand from his cock, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He wrapped his own hand around the base, languidly pushing the tip to your cunt. He slowly pushed in, and you whined, wrapping your arms around him and dragging your nails down his back. He moaned through gritted teeth as you sucked him in. His hips soon came flush to yours as he bottomed out with a deep utter of your name.

"C-can't believe I didn't... fucking hell... didn't do this sooner," he pulled out of you, slowly pushing back in. "Waited s-so long for this pretty cunt. So... so long."

He was taking his time fucking his cock into you. Your gummy walls tightened around him, your arousal easing the glide. He huffed each time the head of his cock reached far enough inside you that a small bulge appeared in the soft mound of you lower tummy.

"You feel so good, oh my god—" He whimpered.

"Please, Gaz, need more—" You whined. "Please, faster—"

His pace increased instantly. It wasn't the most graceful and rhythmic— possibly a factor of weed and alcohol, making you fight off a grin— but it was fucking good. He nailed that spot inside you with each thrust. You moaned his name, over and over, throat beginning to become sore. He fucked you to the drumming of the music downstairs, bed creaking. The room smelt of weed, sex, you and him. You could get high off that combination alone.

He was breathing hard, whimpering into your neck as he sucked another hickey. Your best friend's older brother. A moan slipped out of your mouth at that thought alone. What were you doing?

Whatever it was, you were fucking loving it.

"So good, Gaz. Feels so good." You told him through a whine, his cock slamming repeatedly into the plug of your womb, balls slapping against the curve of your arse.

He moved away from your neck, focusing now on your pretty face as he fucked you.

"Yeah? Feels good, love?" He asked, snaking a hand away from your hip to toy a finger against your puffy clit.

"S-so good, fuck—!" You almost screamed at the sensation, your nerves on fire.

He rutted into you, again and again, hooded eyes raking down your body with each arch of your back and buck of your hips. He loved how pretty you looked right now. All for him. His imagination these past few weeks had nothing on what he was looking at right now.

"Mmm that's it, good girl," he said lowly as he felt your cunt begin to pulse around him. He pulled all the way out and slammed back in, making you toss your head back and moan. He moaned too, your silk walls clinging too him. So needy. "Want you to cum, please, baby. You can do it. Want you to cum 'round my cock. Come on, give it to me."

Gladly, you came a third time.

"Gaz!" You moaned, pulling him tighter over you as your entire lower body spasmed, legs clamping around his waist and cunt squeezing around his cock. He groaned at the sight of you, at the feel of you, as your climax rocked through you, amplified by the swimming warmth in your brain. Cosy. Safe.

"Gaz..." You finished with a whimper, soft and barely audible. He kissed you, passionate and slow, continuing his pace, removing his finger from your sensitive clit.

"I know, I know, good girl, baby," he whispered, cooing. "Did so good. Almost there... almost there... good— girl—" he punctuated the good girl with heavy thrusts, making your mouth drop open.

It seemed like it had been mere seconds since your third orgasm when your fourth crept into your lower abdomen, coiling tight. You don't think a man has ever made you cum this many times.

You couldn't help it. It was so sudden that you had no time to warn him. You gushed around him, fourth orgasm leaking out of you with each rut of his cock. He groaned, deep and breathy, feeling the slick escaping from your cunt as he pounded into you, his thrusts only just beginning to falter.

"That's a good girl, there you go, feels so fucking good," he rambled. "M'gonna cum, holy fuck, m'gonna cum—"

He sounded so desperate. You kissed him.

He buried his cock to the hilt inside you, hips flushed with yours. As you kissed him, he came, moaning into your mouth. Warmth filled you deep, the sensation making you arch against him. Warm dribbles of his cum slowly seeped out of you as he softened, still buried inside you while his body dropped onto yours, face buried in your neck. He kissed you there as you kissed his forehead.

After a while of just holding each other and listening to the music downstairs, Gaz got up. The joint was basically lying dead in the ashtray, but he still ground away the remnants of live embers. He closed the window.

"You reckon someone heard us?" You asked lazily as he dipped into his bathroom, remerging a few moments later with a cloth.

"Doubt it," he said, dabbing the warm, wet cloth to your core, cleaning you gently. "They're too pissed to even notice we're gone."

He cleaned you, then discarded the cloth. Soon, he was shimmying a pair of his clean boxers up your legs, then grabbing a fresh tee and helping you into it. Then, boxers on, he slipped into bed beside you and pulled the covers up. He placed a kiss to your forehead, cheek, then finally your lips.

"Need anything?" He asked, rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone before kissing you softly again.

"Just you," you smiled at him. "All I need is you."

"Perfect," he smiled back. "All I need is you, too."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

lol x

#captainfern #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #fem reader #cod gaz #gaz #gaz mw2 #gaz smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x female reader #cod smut #kyle garrick #gaz x you #captain'stimbaland

1K notes · View notes

ennabear · 9 months

Text

abby x gymrat!reader 🤗

MDNI

*ੈ you guys are the scariest bitches in the room. imagine two of the most muscular people you’ve ever seen. and they’re dating. double rbf’s, double strength, double trouble!!!!

*ੈ abby and you always have to go to the gym at different times. if you do go at the same time, one of two things will happen. 1) you guys end up totally distracted and turned on, leaving early to go home and fuck it out. or 2) it turns into a competition of who can lift more, ending in you both getting kicked out and sore the next day.

*ੈ being strong enough to pick her up. :((( abby falling asleep on the couch so you pick her up bridal style and carry her to bed!!! brb gonna sob!!

*ੈ innocent pillow fights that turn into full on wrestling. you guys are on top of each other on the most uncomfortable and awkward positions fighting to pin the other to the ground for more than 5 seconds.

*ੈ adding to the last one,,,, arm wresting that lasts for like 10 minutes because neither of you are weak enough to lose. both of your muscles are bulging out of your arms but your hands stay right in the middle of the two of you.

*ੈ you don’t buy clothes for yourself anymore, you buy them for the two of you. once you moved in and the laundry got mixed together for the first time, it was game over. although, she prefers wearing the clothes that you just wore because they still smell like you. what a sweetie!!

*ੈ nobody dares to flirt with her in public because they get scared off once they see her equally intimidating girlfriend a few feet behind her. you guys are two big scary guard dogs who protect each other.

*ੈ doing hip thrusts with her on your lap and vice versa. she’s blushing because she’s so charmed by you. and her eyes are locked onto your arm muscles that are still glistening with sweat.

*ੈ BATTLING for dominance. like physically pushing her down onto the bed because now it’s your turn to top. and this happens every time!!! neither of you are willing to give up your position as dom so instead you have to fight for it.

*ੈ you two probably both walk around pretty much naked when you’re home alone. what’s the point in wearing outside clothes when you and your hot gf both have perfectly sculpted muscles??

*ੈ massages are frequent for the two of you. it’s not rare that you end up sore after upping your lifts just a little. but abby’s hands are so gentle and soft and they make whatever pain go away.

*ੈ don’t even get me started on YOU massaging her. she falls asleep almost instantly. being in her nice warm bed with the love of her life soothing her sore muscles. she just feels so safe and in love with you, can you blame her?

*ੈ you guys buy so much protein powder and so many protein bars. she’d try all of those energy shots with you, even the ones with raw egg. no matter how bad it tasted, she’s glad that you had to suffer with her. <33

*ੈ sooooo much gym equipment in your house/apartment. weights everywhere, and those little pull up bars that go in the door way!!!

*ੈ the post workout pics go crazy!!!!! abby single-handedly ruining your life by sending you a picture of her, completely shirtless, muscles bulging, and with her hair down, slightly wavy from her braid. crazy!!!!!! you best believe she’s getting pinned to the bed the second she gets home.

*ੈ you sending her a post workout pic, your muscles are sweaty and you’re genuinely exhausted, but the bulge of your strap underneath your sweatpants is enough to get abby to beg and give up topping for just one night.

*ੈ and being able to fuck her four hourssss!!!!! absolutely destroying her with your strap and not even getting tired because you have the most insane stamina. and you’ll make her take it, overstimulating her until she’s crying and begging!!!!

#we need more masc4masc abby!!!!!!!#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson headcanons #gymrat!abby #lesbian

435 notes · View notes

itsscromp · 7 months

Text

5 months

A story inspired by this TikTok I hope you all enjoy 😊😊 word count:1.2k

Simon woke up to the all to familiar bright lights and beeping sounds of the hospital. He groaned in pain as he felt like he couldn't move. Thankfully he was spared as you were there to dim the lights after seeing him awake.

"Hey buddy... How are you feeling ??" You asked, To which he replied to a dry cough, water please.

You gently handed him the cup of water and placed the straw into his mouth, Taking a few sips. "What... Happened ??" He asked.

You looked down for a little bit and sighed. "The entire building was rigged with explosives, We began to run out before i found out you weren't behind me. Me and soap began to move the rubble that was in the explosives... and well" You looked over at his badly broken body. Both legs were broken, One arm was broken and 5 cracked ribs.

"The doctor said you won't be back on your feet for a least 3 months"

"Fucking hell..." He sighed.

Regardless, you were happy to keep him company and help him whenever you could. 3 months came by and he was finally free of those damned casts. He could be able to move freely.

But one night, upon closer inspection when he got out of the shower. He lost a lot of muscle, and seemed to gain a little bit of weight too... "This cannot get any worse" He started to tear up, He was already self conscious about his body as it is, this was just almost insult to injury.

He tried to shrug it off for the next week, trying to squeeze in any workouts as he could. But every time someone walks past him, he would always get some form of comment. "Nice tits lieutenant" "Need a training bra ??" "Give us one squeeze please ??" He had to fight every instinct to not throw a weight at there heads... But they were right.

He stood there in his room, looking at his worthless body, His abs weren't as defined anymore. His pecs could hardly be called pecs. His biceps seemed to almost have deflated. Not to mention the pudgy sides around his waist seem to top over. As he started to tear up again, He began to repeatedly smash the mirror in front of him. he hated seeing himself like this. He did with a fucking passion.

You heard the smashed glass and rushed toward his room, Trying your best to pull him away. "Easy easy !!"

"Get off of me !!" He cried out.

"Simon relax, relax... It's just me" You gently took his hands and squeezed them gently. Looking at him in the eyes.

You could see the anger, sadness and insecurity the had, He has already been through a lot and this... This just fucking hurt him.

"Come here, let me have a look" You gently took his hand and inspected it, Just grazes, not deep cuts. So you went and got the first aid kit.

As you treated his wound, he looked down at the floor, seeing the tears fall down. "I fucking hate myself..."

"Simon... Please don't say that" You finished wrapping has bandages and looked at him.

"I do, y/n... Look at me... I'm not what I am" He started to cry a tad bit heavier.

You gently wrapped your arms around him, you knew this was hurting him badly, you didn't want to see him hurt. So later that night, you began to figure out a workout routine. One that was while excruciating, you knew this would get him back to what he once was.

The following morning, you burst into his room, blowing a whistle, and making him jolt awake. "What are we still doing sleeping around lieutenant !! Gym gear on and meet me in the gym !!" You did your best coach voice and urged him out.

Simon was a tad bit shocked when he saw you, But regardless he got his gym clothes on and soon followed you. You had set everything up. Weights, cardio, courses, and protein shakes. "For our warm up I want you to do 30 push ups"

"Y/n..."

"Don't talk back, Don't give up come on let's go !!"

He knew you meant well as he did his 30 pushups. Today you were his best friend and now his coach, You had him do a lot of things. But when it came to rest period, you brought him over to the mirror.

"I want you to take your shirt off"

He froze as you said that, But you gave him reassuring eyes knowing that it was just you two, He trusted you... So slowly he took off his shirt, He looked away from the mirror once he saw his pudgy stomach. But you gently went up to him. "You know what I see Simon ??"

He kept his eyes away from the mirror but turned to look at you, Giving you a soft look. "I see... Someone who has worked really hard today. Someone who is the strongest being that I have come to know and love. Someone who I know will work hard to see himself again. It will take time, But I know you got this Simon. Just don't beat yourself up... I know this"

You struggled for a while on your body and how you looked as well, You didn't want to see Simon sad and angry at himself.

"Yeah... Ok"

After the gym session, he went back to his room and saw that the mirror had been replaced, he didn't think much to begin with, But he took your advice in hand and went over to it. Taking his shirt off again, this time looking at himself, while yes it will be hard... "I can do this, I can... It'll take time" He said as he gently rubbed his stomach and patted it.

The training sessions continued and got harder, But you helped push Simon to his limit and to the point where he didn't know he was capable of, Downing every protein bar or shake he could, and making sure he looked at himself in the mirror after every session, to learn to love the body that he is in.

5 months later.

Simon wiped his sweat as he placed down the weights, It was hard, excruciating, and sometimes even painful, But it was all worth it, he began to workout shirtless again like he used to. Walking to the mirror with the upmost confidence, looking at himself, and flexing his biceps, he saw the snake-like veins had come back. His manly pecs have sprung back to life, he smirked as he began to pop his pecs, his Terry crews vibes were you could say... "Popping off" and his 6-pack abs have been upgraded to an 8-pack. But the smallest difference is there was the tiniest amount of pudge on his sides. but he could let that slide, all he knew was that he was happy with the way he was.

You walked into the gym and saw him looking at himself, all happy. "I knew you could do it" You smiled up at him.

"No thanks to you sergeant" He smiled and ruffled your hair, he was super thankful for you, his best friend and coach. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly. "Ok muscles don't crush me" You chuckled as did he.

Simon worked his ass off for 5 months, and it paid off big time. All thanks to you.

Taglist: @callofdudes

#platonic #reader insert #simon ghost riley #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you

276 notes · View notes

steelestallion · 11 days

Text

💪Ryder Steele’s Muscle Gain Instruction Manual. 💪

A surface-level yet comprehensive beginner’s guide to working out/body building/gaining muscle written by a tboy with a degree in human physiology, with tboys in mind. Speed training, toning, and cardio/lung health training will not be explored.

(Part 1) Diet. Talking about food, their molecules and how the body responds.

An aspect of bodybuilding/exercizing that is just as important as the weights and workouts themselves. Generally, the more a human does, the more nutrition they need in every sense.

Protein is needed to survive as a human, 0.8 grams per kilogram of weight MINIMUM. (source) To gain muscle you need to consume more protein than that. 1 gram per pound of body is a good goal.

There are additional ingredients, Amino Acids, you can ingest to give your body more of what it needs to build muscle. The most common is creatine, and it can be found naturally in foods or bought alone. 14mg per pound is a good dose, (source) but you could do as low as you like.

Carbohydrates, fats, vitamins, minerals, and water are other things essential to keep you running, but aren’t the building block of muscle.

For vitamins, minerals, and water be sure to get the daily recommended dose. It’s worth considering a little more than recommend water, potassium, magnesium, and sodium in your diet for adequate muscle usage before and during working out. Also, a bit more calcium in general for muscle movement and the strength your bones must gain to support stronger muscles and weight loads.

For carbohydrates and fats, it’s important to have adequate levels of these. The body uses carbohydrates for energy first and mainly, then uses fats, then proteins. How much? Well it depends on how much you care about the image of your body, and what your goals are.

The Bulk is for people who want to gain muscle and mass a bit quicker. There is clean bulking and dirty bulking. Dirty bulking is eating a lot without much regard to amounts. Clean bulking is to gain muscle mass while keeping your body fat percentage at relatively the same level.

The Cut is for people who want to reduce their body fat percentage. Eating at a slight/moderate deficit to force the body to consume fat cells as energy. High protein is still consumed.

Before working out, you should consume something 30-40 minutes before starting. Preworkout, a caffeinated substance, or complex carbohydrates to give you the energy needed to begin and not crash.

After working out, you should consume a good portion of your daily proteins 30 minutes to four hours later.

(Part 2)Working out. Utilizing and ripping the telomeres of your muscles and forming neural pathways.

To build muscle, you need to utilize the muscles. To get bigger muscles, your body needs to move with more resistance than what it normally does. Weight acts as the resistance.

Warming up is an important first step to working out, as you need to prime your body’s systems and cells. Heart rate is the primary thing to warm up, because using muscles required your heart pump harder and faster. 5-10 minutes of warmup minimum of cardio is best. The intensity of this cardio is your choice. Dancing, fast walking, jogging/running, jump rope, cycling, etc. are good. Stretching is also a good precursor to the warmup as the warmup uses your muscles also. It’s a process, but its important to warm up properly to avoid tightness, cramps, or even things snapping.

The weightlifting a complicated and highly discussed thing. There are hundreds of motions across gym machines, tools, and muscles for you to chose from. Which ones you do depend on what is available, and the muscles you want to work. Write stuff down if you must. Here is an exercise dictionary.

Muscle names are good to know to decide which motions to do. Look at this diagram to learn, and build your own encyclopedia and routine.

Frequency of working out is important. If your body does not use muscles, they deteriorate. You can work certain muscles more frequently than others. Just keep adequate rest. You may see things like push/pull day, arm day. This is the type of motions and muscles focused. Dedicating a workout session/day to one muscle group helps keep track of avoiding overuse. See Rest for more. Once a week at minimum you should work a muscle group to keep it from deteriorating. Here’s an example: Sunday rest. Monday arms&core. Tuesday whole back. Wednesday rest. Thursday whole arms. Friday rest. Saturday whole legs.

Duration of working the muscle during a session/day impacts its growth. A rep is one time going through a motion. Sets is how many times you do a group of reps. 3x15 pushups is I’m doing 15 pushups. Rest. 15 more. Rest. 15 more. Three sets of fifteen. To build endourance, lower weight at higher reps. To build mass and strength, higher weight at lower reps.

Finally, the weight heaviness. You should slightly push your muscles to start, then base your weight patterns off of what is a good amount of strain for you. The more you challenge/strain yourself, the more it will hurt and build muscle mass. Also, the faster you increase the weight your muscles fight against, the higher the risk of injury. However, if you stick to a weight that is not challenging, your muscles will not grow. There must always be some element of challenge your muscles must always be chasing to keep up with. Thats what growing is. For example: I’ve been bicep curling single dumbbells of 10 pounds for months. 12 pounds is a comfortable challenge, and I can do 15 also but not the whole set. So, I may warm up with 1 set of 10lbs. Two sets of 12lbs, then finish with one set of 15 at lower reps. The number of reps per set could be 15,12,10,6. Decreasing reps while increasing weight to prep the body, but not injure too much.

(Part 3) Rest. Your body building new muscle, and preparing to work again.

In between sets of exercise, you need to rest your muscles for enough time for them to become reloaded with their energy, ATP. ~1 minute for heavily lifting. Ensure you’re breathing well also to give your blood oxygen. Deeper, healthy breaths during rest is good.

After training it’s recommended to give a muscle group ~48 hours of rest to rebuild the fibers. Rest means not training it, but of course if you need to use them, use them. Additionally, you can still be active and rest, doing a thing called active rest. Doing nothing at all, which has its benefits, is called passive rest.

Sleep is your body’s way of storing information and taking out the cerebral trash. During sleep your body produces growth hormone, your brain works to retain all of the information you and your body learned during the day, and generally refreshes itself. Napping can e beneficial also if it doesn't interfere with getting the minimum 8-10 hours depending on your age group.

Thank you for reading! If you have any questions, would like help creating workout plans, or would like a bit of praise or encouragement feel free to reach out. Also if there are any errors. Now go have fun!

#androphilia #autoandrophilia #forcemasc #forced masculinization #weightlifting #body building #finally here!

125 notes · View notes