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tumble-tv · 24 days ago

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There’s word (very strong and big word) that Donald Trump is going to start mass deportations on Tuesday, January 21, 2025.

He wants any immigrants, no matter how long they have been a citizen of the USA, to be deported either out of the country as a whole or into what are basically concentration camps. They’re starting in Chicago, Illinois. The US Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has started raiding homes and families in California. Here’s some information.

When it comes to spotting an ICE agent, look for these:

Weirdly neat/well kept hair (shaved heads, side parts, military burs for men; low buns, high ponytails, close cropped bobs for women)

Oversized jacket (long and bulky outerwear makes it easier to hide tools/equipment without being suspicious)

Both hands in pockets

Many undercover agents/cops buy cheap plain clothes off the racks so they aren’t seen in their own clothes. This can make their outfit seem awkward

Sweatshirts with the hood up

Sports apparel (warm up jacket, sweats, etc) with non-sports clothes (jeans, cargo shorts)

Cargo pants/shorts (usually full of items like their badge, flashlight, taser, pepper spray, backup handcuffs, zip ties)

Military or hiking style boots, sometimes chunky sneakers (extra points if none of it matches anything in their outfit)

Outline of a gun in their pants/shirt (easy to see when bending, leaning, or raising arms) (NO NOT SAY ANYTHING)

Overly friendly

Overly inquisitive

“How old are you” and “what do you know about this happening” are both red flags, along with generally odd and personal questions

Don’t fit in

Mismatched pairs in public spaces (usually cops do these things in pairs. They don’t talk to each other or acknowledge each other much, if at all)

DO NOT SAY ANYTHING UNTIL YOU ARE 100% SURE

YOUR BEST BET IS NOT TO SAY ANYTHING UNTIL THE SUSPECT STARTS ACTING OFF AND GETTING PUSHY

COPS ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO TELL YOU THAT THEY ARE UNDERCOVER

COPS CAN AND WILL LIE TO YOU

SCREAM “LA MIGRA” AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS

For protesting:

N95 masks

Respirator/gas mask if you have access to one

Water water water water water (I hate to say it, but disposable one use bottles are best here. If it comes to it, you need to be able to drop and run.)

Snacks

Eyedrops (teargas is a bitch)

Goggles (I bring my old snowboarding goggles)

If you are wearing a t-shirt or have exposed skin, put on fake tattoos. If you are brought into something and they say you were there, showing a picture of you with the tattoos, show them where that tattoo would be and how there’s nothing there. How would you get rid of a giant flower on your forearm in 2 days anyways?

Hide your hair. I tuck my hair into my beanie since it’s short. If you have longer hair, try to do the same or tuck it into your shirt.

Power bank

Chargers

Helmet. Any is fine, my personal choice is a skating helmet since they’re rounder and can take more damage

Hand sanitizer

Gloves (either to keep your hands warm or simple nitrile exam gloves, both work)

Bandanas. Somebody might need one for their face or hair, maybe you need to get dirt off somebody’s face, maybe somebody got injured. They’re great for anything and everything

Cash (try to stick to cash, your card can be tracked)

Medications if you take them. If you get arrested or happen to somehow be away for longer than expected after the protest, it’s always good to have emergency meds

FIRST AID ALL THE FIRST AID (Tourniquet, Quikclot, chest seal, trauma shears, gauze, bandages, duct tape, and all the usual stuff you’d have in there)

Good shoes

Spare socks. Trust me.

As much covering clothing as you can handle. Plain jeans, plain hoodie, plain t-shirt, keep yourself as anonymous as possible

Photocopy of your ID

Sunscreen

Make sure your clothes have pockets

Do not wear contact lenses. If tear gas is used, that will make everything so much worse. Wear your glasses or go blind.

If you use mobility aids, cover defining features. Logos, brand names, colors, stickers, all of it. Take some old plain t-shirt and tie it around your wheelchair’s backrest. Wrap your wheelchair frame in cling wrap, then duct tape, or plain black self adhering medical tape. Cover stickers on your cane or crutches the same way. Electric chair? You have a little more work, but you can do it. Same idea. Walker? Same thing. Cover. It. All.

If you are bringing a bag, make sure that bag is as plain as possible. No pins. No patches. No keychains.

Scarf if you have one

Write a reliable phone number (of someone who is not at the protest with you) on your body. On the off chance you get arrested, that is your emergency contact.

Pocket knife.

Pepper spray/mace

Anything you can throw. Soup for my family.

IF YOU CAN, LEAVE YOUR PHONE AT HOME

IF YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT WITH YOU FOR WHATEVER REASON, TURN OFF LOCATION SERVICES ON ALL APPS AND TURN OFF BIOMETRICS (FACE ID AND FINGERPRINT) SO YOU CAN ONLY UNLOCK YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR PASSWORD

MAKE SURE SOMEBODY KNOWS GENERALLY WHERE YOU ARE

I do not want to scare anybody, but this is what life is right now. That man does not care how long you have been a citizen of this country. If you are not white, cisgender, heterosexual, Christian, and male, you are seen as less than by men in power. You are not less than. You are a threat to them, and they are scared. Keep it that way.

Here's the link to my post on what to bring in terms of first aid.

If you cannot attend protests, that’s fine. Do what’s best for you. Simply reposting information helps.

#us politics #american politics #us news #project 2025 #trump #fuck trump #donald trump #president trump #trump administration #immigrants #immigration #protest #protests #civil rights #class consciousness #informative #information #long post

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importantstudentbusinessspy-blog · 25 days ago

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Crushing On The Nerdy Guy At Work

Masterlist

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader

Synopsis: You can't stop thinking about the adorably awkward tech genius with messy hair and a slight smile that had made your heart flutter more than you'd like to admit. Too bad he barely knows you exist.

Tags: NSFW, characters are in their twenties, coworkers to lovers, oposites attract, nerd/popular, she fell first, virgin hero, first time, one-sided pining (reader has a massive crush on Tim), Angst, betrayal,

Tim Drake was brilliant, and there was no other way to put it. When he wasn’t glued to his computer, he was sketching complex symbols into his notepad, his messy dark hair falling into his eyes as he worked. You’d caught yourself watching him once or twice. Sharp cheekbones, full lips, and those piercing blue eyes behind thick glasses that seemed to analyze everything around him. He was the opposite of the jock type you usually went for. But something about him just made you catch your breath. You decided you were being punished for overlooking guys like him in high school and college...

As Gotham PD's PR associate, you got to see the detectives at work, especially if you had to take pictures for press releases.

Tim’s skinny frame was deceiving. He must have had some sort of training growing up. You'd seen him take down guys twice his size when he trained. Unlike the other detectives who had burly builds, Tim was lean but strong. His shoulders were broader than you would expect for a "tech nerd," and his arms and chest toned - visible when his shirt sleeves pulled tight on those rare days when he wasn't drowning in his oversized hoodies.

You always dressed to impress. After a long year of figuring your shit out, you left you bougie corporate job and replaced it with the gotham police department. You didn't know exactly what would lead to it, but you knew you wanted to serve the public rather than exploit it. That meant that all the high-end fashion you wore would fit right in at your old brand, but in the PD, you stood out. Tweet blazers, skirts, clean button ups, and knee-high boots. Your clothes are highly contrasted from the sports shoes, jackets, and practical clothes you saw worn each day.

But the attention you got for it was good.

After catching his eyes lingering on you in the office, you tried flirting with him. It didn't go well.

A couple of days ago, he sat at the kitchen table, alone, scribbling on his notepad. His hands, calloused but delicate, were mesmerizing you while you sat and ate your lunch surrounded by chatty co-workers. You noted small scars on his knuckles and fingers, always raising questions that you didn't have the guts to ask.

You got up from your own table and walked up to him, your heels clicking with each step.

"Hey," you began, clearing your throat to steady your voice. "How’s the Phantom investigation going?"

Tim looked up, his glasses slipping down his nose. His blue eyes flicked over you, quick but observant. "Slow. Phantom’s code isn’t cracking anytime soon." He tilted his head. "What about you?"

"Oh, you know." You waved your hand. "Same old, same old. Just got off the phone with the mayor. No big deal." You winced at how obnoxious that sounded, but Tim offered a faint smile.

"Uhmm..." You hesitated, taking a seat next to him. His scent was a mix of coffee and old spice. "You know, Tim, I think you're really nice, and..."

He tilted his head, waiting for you to go on.

Only, you didn't know what to say.

This hasnt happened since middle school...

You were always confident around men. You knew what to say to have them in the palm of your hand.

And now, with Tim, you choked. Like you were back in middle school or something.

"What I mean is," you continued. "You’re kind of the cutest guy in the office - " your eyes widened. You didn't mean to reveal that.

Tim spared you a small smile before turning back to his notes. "Ha. Very funny, y/n." He pushed up his glasses, then stood and walked away, wishing you a good day.

You frowned, not knowing whether you should be relieved or disappointed. He thought you were joking.

"I don't get you." Jake bit into his bagel as he leaned against Tim’s desk. "The hottest girl on our team wants you and you just... walk away?"

Tim turned away from his screen to look at his friend, shrugging his confusion.

"Y/n," Jake clarified. "She was flirting with you at lunch -"

Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. "She was joking, Jake. Come on, you really think someone like her would go for... me?"

"She called you the cutest guy in the office!"

Tim pushed his glasses up. "Girls like her don’t go for awkward computer nerds." Not to mention, virgins, he thought.

"By girls like her, you mean...?" Jake pressed.

Tim chuckled. "You know exactly what I mean. Beautiful, sweet, charming. She could get anyone she wants."

"Bro, she wants YOU though!"

"She does not. Trust me." He shook his head. "Now, go away, please. I need to focus." Tim looked back at the screen, the code looking back at him in patterns.

The Phantom’s latest message was a cipher. A complex one. He’d spotted a recurring theme, though. The symbols seemed to resemble constellations.

Jake groaned before muttering. "Youre the dumbest smart person I know," then, taking another bite of his bagel, he walked back to his desk.

The day Tim rejected you, you came home sulking. When your roommate saw your face, she raised a brow.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

You let out a groan, flopping down onto the couch and reaching for the bottle of wine sitting on the counter. "Tim," you muttered.

"'Hot Nerd' Tim?” Your roommate asked. She knew how much you’d been into him.

"Yeah. I tried flirting with him, but he ignored me." You grabbed the wine glass, pouring a generous amount into it.

"Wait... would this be like... the first time a guy has ever rejected you?" Your roommate asked, laughing.

You ignored her because yes, it was. "There’s this intensity about him, Jess." You sighed, looking at her. "Like, he’s always so capable, so... smart. And he's so humble about it, you know? Not like those guys at forensics, that man-splain everything. And that makes him so... damn attractive. Even if he doesn’t see it." You took another sip of wine and set the glass down, glaring at it.

Your roommate stared at you for a long moment. "Yeah, you need to get laid."

"I know." You groaned.

"Well, lucky for you," she said with a raised brow, "I need a wingwoman tonight. Get dressed."

You weren’t in the mood to go out, but maybe a distraction was what you needed. The guy you ended up coming home with was the type you usually went out with. A finance bro named Jared with perfectly styled hair and an expensive suit. He was charming and a good kisser

It didn’t take long for you to realize everything about Jared was wrong. He wore a designer suit when you preferred a wrinkled button-down, with rolled up sleeves and dark jeans. His loafers were clean and new, but you would have liked dirty sneakers. And he was missing something essential: a pair of smudged, square-rimmed glasses.

Despite all that, you went along with it, kissing him back, but your mind wandered back to a certain awkward tech genius with messy hair and shy smile that had made your heart flutter more than you'd like to admit. You found yourself imagining Jared was Tim, and every touch, every kiss became more interesting.

Suddenly, Jared broke the kiss, looking down at you with a frown. "Who's Tim?" His voice felt like a cold splash to your face.

You froze, blinking up at him. “Huh?"

"You were moaning 'Tim,'" he said, his tone accusatory.

Your face turned red. "Oh my god," you muttered, avoiding his gaze. You didn't even realize you were whispering Tim’s name. "I’m sorry," you said. "I shouldn’t have - there's this guy at work - ugh. I'm sorry, Jared."

You expected him to be rightfully upset. What you didn't expect was the reassuring hand placed on your shoulder.

"I get it." He said, sitting up. "I'm kind of on the same boat actually."

You looked up at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. There’s this girl on our data team. No matter what I do, I can’t get her out of my head." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Stupid fuckin nerd."

You chuckled at that. "Tell me about it.

The next day, Tim came to the office with hollowed out cheeks and bags under his eyes. It was clear last night was another sleepless night of work for him.

He marched into the captain's office, closing the door behind him.

Halfway through your meeting in the conference room, the door swung open, and Tim walked in, Jim Gordon at his side. Both men were dressed in gear. Bulletproof vests with "GPD" printed boldly across the front. Tim held a handgun, meticulously checking the bullets in the chamber. His movements were calm and precise, but his eyes burned with intensity.

The room stilled. Gordon nnounced, "We’ve got a lead on the Phantom. Squad One, you’re with me. Squad Two, you’ll follow Drake."

The nervous tech genius you were used to seemed to vanish. Tim's usual fidgeting hands gripped his weapon with precision, and his hunched posture straightened into one of authority.

As he broke down the plan of action, even the detectives who usually brushed him off as “the kid prodigy” were silent. And you felt it too. This side of Tim was undeniably captivating.

In under an hour, the squads was deployed, and both Tim and Gordon led their teams out into the field.

Three hours later, the Phantom was caught. Tim’s code-breaking that led them to the hideout. As the criminal was hauled into the precinct in cuffs, Tim stood quietly to the side, his shoulders finally relaxing. Exhaustion lingered in his features, but there was satisfaction in his eyes. All the while, you stood on the sidelines and looked on in awe.

The team celebrated at a local pub. At the captain's insistence, Tim joined despite his usual aversion to social gatherings.

When you stepped onto the small stage to read the press release you’d written about the case, Tim couldn’t help but watch. You looked stunning in a frilly top tucked into a pencil skirt that hugged your waist.

As you spoke, his lips moved silently along with yours, already having memorized every word when you’d sent the draft to the team earlier. You made him sound like a hero. It was… nice.

Tim looked adorable, sitting beside Jake, his hair falling over his forehead in a way that made it seem like he’d just rolled out of bed.

Rose, a paralegal who worked closely with you, cleared her throat. "You’re staring."

You blinked, startled. "No, I’m not."

"Oh, come on, Rose," Karl chimed in, clapping a hand on your shoulder. "Y/n's allowed to admire Gotham’s best boy."

"Ignore them," Maria from forensics said, sliding into a seat beside you.

Your table had grown larger as the night progressed, but despite the lively company, your eyes kept drifting back to Tim. You wanted to invite him over. If only you could have him alone.

"So, Y/N, what song are you gonna sing?" someone asked, nodding toward the karaoke session currently underway on the mini stage of the bar.

You laughed. "Not sure yet. Any suggestions?" You looked around the table, and in a moment, you received about ten shouts of song ideas.

Rose teased, leaning closer. "I have one. It's not a suggestion, but it is a challenge."

"Go on?" You raised a brow, waiting for her to continue.

"I dare you to get a kiss from the genius boy tonight."

The rest of the table broke out into one collective. "Ooooh,"

You eyed Rose. She knew exactly how to get under your skin.

Grinning, you tossed a French fry into your mouth and rose from your seat. You sauntered over to put in your song request, then returned to your table, excitement buzzing as you waited for your turn.

You smiled sweetly as you sang a song Tim didn’t recognize.

Apparently, everyone else knew it, though. His coworkers sang along enthusiastically.

What the hell did "bed chem" even mean? That wasn't a word, right?

The ones who weren’t singing were ogling you outright, and Tim could hardly blame them. The way you flipped your hair and batted your eyelashes sent his face burning.

Tim swallowed, shifting awkwardly on his chair and clutching his beer. Every glance you sent his way made his chest tighten, though he tried to convince himself it was all in his head.

Still, the idea that you might be looking at him made his thoughts spiral. He cleared his throat and cast his gaze down, pretending to focus on the contrnt of his bottle.

Cheers erupted around him as you finished the song, offering a playful bow. You handed the mic back to the DJ and stepped down from the small stage, making your way to him

Tim tensed. By the time you stopped in front of him, his mind had gone blank. You bit your lip - an innocent gesture, but the shiny pink of your lipstick made his vision go hazy.

"Can we step outside for a moment?" you asked in a sweet tone.

Tim blinked, not registering the words, too stuck on the fact that you were so close, your perfume smelled like roses.

"Uh… sure?" he mumbled, unsure if he’d heard you right but unwilling to make you repeat yourself.

You tilted your head toward the exit. Tim stood, feeling strange, and followed you, his heartbeat hammering in his ears.

Outside, you turned back to face him, the night air crisp against your skin. "Hi."

Tim shifted nervously, his back pressing against the cool brick wall behind him. "H-hey."

"I have a confession to make," you said, stepping closer, your gaze lingering on his lips. You noticed the way his eyes darted to yours.

He swallowed hard. "O-okay -"

Without another word, you rose onto your tiptoes, closing the small distance between you, and kissed him.

Tim froze, clearly caught off guard, but then his lips began to move against yours, tentative but eager, and his hands hovered awkwardly before finally wrapping around your waist. His grip was firm yet cautious, pulling you closer.

When you pulled back, you smiled, breathless. "Do you want to come back to my place?"

Tim blinked at you, his expression caught between shock and disbelief. He stammered, "U-uh... can we just... pause for a moment?"

You stepped back slightly, hugging yourself against the cool breeze. "Sure,"

Tim shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. You opened your mouth to thank him, but he began to speak.

"Y/n," he said hesitantly, his voice low and unsure. "I sometimes have trouble knowing when people are joking or being serious. Like... right now."

You tilted your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Tim, I’m serious. I want to take you home."

His cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. "I-I mean, that sounds... amazing. But..." He hesitated, his eyes darting away before meeting yours again. "I wouldn’t even know what to do with you."

The vulnerability in his voice made you pause. You stepped closer, your fingers brushing lightly against his palm. "Do you mean…?"

Tim’s face burned brighter as he nodded. "Yeah."

Instead of laughing or teasing like hed expected, you laced your fingers with his, squeezing gently. There was something about his confession that made your pulse quicken. "Would you like me to show you?"

His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he gave a small, nervous nod.

The dim light of your bedroom cast a warmth across your tidy place and the only sounds were coming from the heater and the city outside your window.

Tim was fidgety, avoiding eye contact as you planted kisses along his jaw while gently undoing the buttons of his shirt. His breath hitched when you kissed his neck, his hips rolling under you.

You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, bringing it to your own top, hinting him on what to do.

His movements were tentative as he began undoing the buttons of your blazer and removing it, leaving you in your bra. His eyes studied the patterns on your undergarment, pretty flowers, and subconsciously, his hand brushed your arm up to your collarbone, enjoying the softness of your skin, making you shiver. He liked that.

Your own work had resulted in removing his shirt, showcasing his impressive bare chest and torso, riddled with valleys of muscle and scars that you eagerly ran your hands over. You leaned down to plant kisses down his chest. With every lick and nip of his skin, he let out quiet gasps that he could barely contain.

You reached the train of hair from his belly button leading down to his pants, slowly unbuttoning them and lowering them and his boxers. You couldn't help the pang of triumph at seeing him hard. You looked back at him through your lashes. "You like what I'm doing to you?"

He nodded shyly.

You licked up to his tip, making sure to give it extra attention. "I can't hear you, genius boy," you teased.

"Yeah -" he sucked in a breath. "I like it,"

You smiled to yourself, working him with your hands and mouth. You went slow, then accelerated speed, then went slow again. You kept up this pattern for a while, basking in the glow of his responsive body and enjoying his taste. As Tim got comfortable, he grew more assertive, reaching for your hair with his hand and coming wrapping his fingers in your hair. Really wanting his first time to be enjoyable, you hoped his moans and gasps were an indication that you were doing well. You looked up, seeing him squeeze his eyes shut and roll his head back against your wall as he gasped your name. You couldn't believe it. Your unreachable crush was moaning your name. Go you!

You felt his hips tense and knew what was coming, so you sped up your movement, helping him reach his climax, never taking your mouth or hands off him.

Gasping against the wall, Tim looked down at you, his hroad chest moving up and down as he came down from his hogh.

Parted lips, pink cheeks, sweat glistening skin, and hazy eyes all made for a really hot visual, and you couldn't help but bite your lip. He’d clearly enjoyed that, even if he was shy about showing it.

Before you could say anything, he grasped you by your arm and lifted you to sit on his lap in a matter of seconds. Wrapping a firm hand around your nape, he pulled you into a kiss, deep and desperate.

He pulled apart for a moment, leaving you to catch your breath. "Teach me how to make you feel good." He rasped against your mouth.

"O-okay," you stammered, turned on by his eagerness. "Get on your knees in front of me."

He did so with impressive speed, also managing to remove your pants and panties in the process and pulling you to the edge of the bed, holding your legs open for him.

"Wait -" you giggled, cupping his cheeks and bringing his face closer to yours. "Start slow."

Obediently, he began to kiss you. God, you liked kissing him. And he was a good kisser, too. He's definitely had practice doing that. Leaving your lips glistened, he planted a trail down your throat, biting at your collarbones, before soothing the marks with his tongue. The mix of pain and pleasure had you arching against him, and his fingers pulled down the straps of your bra, lowering the garment and baring your breasts to him.

There was hardly any blue left in his eyes as his pupils grew at the sight of your breasts, and he leaned down to kiss your nipple. The warmth of his mouth mixed with the sparks of pleasure he produced with every kiss on your sensitive nub. He did the same with your other nipple, sending pleasure through your whole body, leaving you whimpering and biting back moans so as not to wake your roommate.

Tim watched you with hooded eyes. "Does this feel good?" His focus is on making the experience enjoyable for you.

Your breath hitched. "Yes!"

Tim kept kissing down your breasts to your lower belly, essentially mimicking your earlier movements on him.

When he reached your core, you knew you had already been wet. You didn't know how much it would amaze him. He murmured your name in awe as he closed in on your cunt. His hands grasped at your thighs as he brought his lips to your folds, carefully exploring you with his tongue. Your fingers grasped the bedsheets as your head rolled back. He was eager in his exploration - messily messaging your sensitive muscles with his tongue, mixing his saliva with your juices.

He tightened his grip, not letting you move from his grasp as he ate you out. That heat that situated in your sex spread through your whole body like fire.

"Tim -" You grasped at his messy locks. "Wait,"

He froze, eyes searching yours. "Whats wrong?"

He huffed out a chuckle of relief, running his hand through his hair. "Of course."

"Nothing," you swallowed. "I'd like to come with you inside me. It just feels better. If that's okay?"

"I'll talk you through it." You promised. "It's going to feel good. For both of us." You moved to sit on his lap, reaching for him and aligning him with your entrance. "Do you trust me?"

Like this, you were facing each other, and you could clearly read all of the signs on his facial expression.

"I do." He said.

After rolling on the condom, you slowly lowered yourself on him, letting his stretch you out and adjusting yourself to his size. Your hand shot up to your mouth to smother a desperate moan, and your eyes closed. When they opened, it was to a view of a desperate Tim. His brows were furrowed as he watched you with pleading eyes, his hands gripping your hips.

"Good?" You asked.

"Fuck yes," he brushed his lips against your. "You?"

"Yes," you said, slowly moving up then down, increasing the friction he cause within you. Slowly, Tim began to match your pace, lifting his hips to meet you, brushing deliciously against your nerves with his thrust.

On particular movement had you squealing before you could stop yourself.

"Here?" He asked.

"Uh, huh," you panted. "Please, I'm close -"

He kept thrusting at the same angle, hitting your spot each time. You grabbed on to his shoulders, feeling them flex each time his lifted and lowered you.

"Oh my god," Tim moaned against you. You were squeezing around him tightly. "Kiss me," he pleaded.

You lowered your mouth to his as the two of you continued moving in unison.

"Tim-" before you could say more, your body seized and shook. He continued to thrust into you, his iron grip keeping you in place even when the sensation became too much.

"Tim!" You grasped at his attention and pulling his focus away from you. "S-sensitive!"

Understanding, he backed away from your poor, overstimulated sex, muttering. "Sorry,"

His reaction made you giggle. "Not bad for your first time." You said quietly.

He grinned. "That was... incredible."

You nodded, still out of breath. "You're incredible."

"Thanks," he said, his tone one of disbelief.

You felt the need to clarify. "No, not at sex-"

His brow rose, and he looked like a kicked puppy. "Oh,"

"No!" You rushed to explain. "You're good at that, too! I just meant - " you sighed, closing your eyes. "God, I always get tongue tied around you." You laughed, then took a deep breath and faced him again.

Tim smiled, waiting patiently.

"I meant to say that you - Tim Drake - are incredible. Not just tonight, but the person you are." You said.

Those eyes gazed into you intensely, and now it was your turn to shily look away.

Tim had other ideas. He brought his lips down on yours in a slow, meticulous kiss.

"Thank you," he wispered, smiling against your mouth as the two of you exchanged more soft kisses

On Monday, Tim was sipping his coffee at his desk when he overheard Rose’s unmistakable voice drifting from the break room.

"They’re so cute, oh my god!" she squealed.

Tim couldn’t help but smile, his mind immediately conjuring up images of you.

"I better get invited to their wedding!" Rose continued, laughing. "I’m honestly not sure she would’ve ever kissed him if I didn’t dare her to."

The grin on Tim’s face froze. What?

Rose dared you to kiss him? Is that why you did it?

He tried to rationalize it. Was the rest of the night also part of the dare? Was anything you said or did genuine, or had he just been a pawn in some game between you and your coworkers?

His grip on his coffee mug tightened involuntarily, his thoughts spiraling into shame. That night had meant so much to him. His first! It was nothing more than a casual challenge between friends?

The sharp sound of shattering ceramic brought him back to reality. Tim stared down at his hand, now dotted with small cuts from the broken shards of the mug. Hot coffee dripped onto his desk and the floor.

His chest felt heavy, and his head fillee with thoughts of betrayal. Without another word, he rose from his seat, grabbing a few tissues to wipe his hand. He needed air. He needed space.

You stood alone in the office balcony sipping coffee when Tim stepped out to join you.

"Good morning!" You smiled at him.

He didn't reciprocate your smile. Closing the door, he turned to face you. "Did you get with me because of a dare?"

You nearly choked on your coffee. "What? No!" You blinked up at him, alarmed. "Well, I mean, Rose did dare me - "

Tim’s jaw clenched, and he took a sharp inhale. "That’s all I needed to hear." His voice was tight. The hurt was unmistakable.

"Tim wait," You stepped forward, grabbing his hand. "There's been a misunderstanding, I liked you - "

Tim closed the distance between you, crowding you, his broad shoulders stiff with frustration. His blue eyes flickered with emotion. “How much of Friday night was real, y/n?"

Desperate, your voice strained. "All of it! Please, you have to believe me - "

Tim shook his head bitterly, cutting you off. "God. I’m such an idiot." He turned away from you, his hands running through his hair, face flushed with embarrassment.

"Dont say that!" You rushed forward, but he took another step back, his face hardened. "Tim, please, you don’t understand - "

He turned his back on you completely, his breath heavy with the weight of unspoken words. "Save it."

You stood frozen in the cold silence that followed, a sick feeling settling in your stomach. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone on the balcony.

#tim drake fluff #tim drake x you #tim drake smut #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake x reader #tim drake #batman #batboys #smut #fluff #angst #batboys x reader

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wilqetclothing · 6 months ago

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 12 days ago

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╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 6 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, third date!, reader goes to the gym, fluff, sexual innuendo

❥ A/N: I'll be going back to work this week so the parts may slow down a bit, just a heads up!

You wake up around nine thirty on Saturday morning, but you scroll on your phone in bed until ten. You get up, start your coffee as you get dressed. You pull out a three-piece workout outfit you bought online a couple months ago but have only worn a couple of times. It's in your favorite color, leggings and a sports bra with a cropped jacket, all the same pattern. You put it on, admiring your form in the mirror. You rearrange your breasts in the mirror so that they're pushed together more, and you zip up the jacket to under your chest, giving a perfect view of your cleavage.

You briefly wonder why you're doing this, but you know why.

You have a small coffee as you wait, scrolling through your phone until there's a knock at your door.

"Just a sec!" you yell, filling your coffee cup with water and leaving it in the sink. You grab your water bottle, slipping on your gym shoes before opening the door. "Hi!"

"Hey." He's wearing sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. His eyes glance up and down your form. "You look nice."

"You like it?" you ask, looking down at your outfit before giving a pose. He smiles softly.

"Yeah. It looks good on you." He reaches out but pauses, drawing his hand back. "Can... may I make a small adjustment?"

"Oh? To my outfit?" He nods. "Uh... sure."

He grunts, reaching forward and grabbing the zipper on your jacket, pulling it up until it reaches your collarbones. He pulls away, nodding.

"Better. You ready?"

You glance down at your now covered chest, then back at him.

"Uh, sure. I'm ready." He hums, then glances down at your feet.

"Your shoes are untied." You look down at them with him.

"Yeah, I know. I'll tie them when I get to the gym."

"Let me."

"I—"

He's already down on one knee, fiddling with your shoe laces. He ties them for you, not too tight, just snug enough that it's comfortable. He moves on to the other shoe and does the same. When he's done, he pulls back, admiring his work. He nods and stands, when you jab a finger into his chest.

"Stop doing whatever you want to me without asking."

"What?"

"You keep doing stuff without asking me how I would feel. Picking me up, tying my shoes. I get that you want to be a gentleman, but you need to ask me if I'm okay with you doing these things before you do them, okay? We still don't know each other that well yet, so you can't be doing whatever you want to me, got it?"

He slumps a bit, but nods.

"Okay. I'm sorry for doing those things without your permission."

"I forgive you. Just ask me next time, okay?" He nods again.

"Okay."

You tug at your jacket, closing your apartment door behind you.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

The gym he goes to is clearly more advanced than your gym. Your gym is full of casual exercisers, people who don't make the gym their life. Here, the gym seems to be the only thing that matters in these peoples' lives. The men are so muscular here, and the few women that there are have sculpted bodies. You imagine them all to be gym influencers on social media.

"What do you want to do?" he asks, hands in his hoodie pocket.

"Oh, um..." You glance around the gym, thinking. "Well, I like to do cardio before I lift weights, so I guess I'll go on the treadmill for a bit before using the machines."

"I'll join you," he offers, already guiding you to the treadmills.

"Oh! You don't have to! You can go do your own workout if you want."

"I invited you to the gym so I could work out with you, not alone." He steps up on a treadmill, holding out his hand for you. You take it, his hand keeping you steady as you get up on the treadmill next to his. "There's no point in coming here together if we don't work out together."

"Alright, alright. If you really want to work out together, we can." His hand is still holding yours. His thumb runs along the back of your hand for a moment, but before you can ask him what's wrong, he pulls his hand away, turning the treadmill on.

You prep yourself with some light stretches before you turn the machine on as well. You start slow, letting your heart rate build up before you get into a fast walk. You glance at Guy, who is walking at a faster speed. You chalk it up to him having longer legs and a longer stride than you, so you don't fret about it.

It's not until he starts running beside you that you become competitive. He bumps up the speed on the treadmill and falls into a jog. His speed is fast, but he makes it look so easy, like this is just a warm up for him. You huff, increasing the speed on your treadmill to match his, just to show him that he's not the only one who can do that.

It doesn't work out well. You sprint for twenty to thirty seconds before you're decreasing the speed again, huffing and puffing. You slow down to a walk again, catching your breath, and this asshole is still running without panting at all. It was slowly pissing you off, but you reminded yourself that your levels of fitness were different and that you shouldn't feel bad about the level you were at. You were still strong and healthy, and that's all that should matter.

Twenty minutes pass when you turn off the machine. He turns his off soon after, slowing to a jog and then a walk before stopping altogether. You make eye contact as you sip some water.

"What would you like to do next?" You hum.

"Weightlifting, but I'm not familiar with your gym." He points off into the distance.

"There's some Smith machines over by the free weights. We could do that if you want." You shrug.

"Sure, sounds good."

He leads you over to the machines he suggested, a bit more pep in his step. Maybe running gave him some more energy.

He goes to an end machine, next to the free weight benches, before turning to you.

"We could alternate between the two," he points to the free weights and the Smith machine. "You could be on one and I could be on another. Or I could spot you, if you'd like."

"Oh, I don't need a spotter," you wave him off. "I'm not gonna do anything crazy, but thank you for offering." He nods, waiting. You glance at the equipment before stepping towards the Smith machine. "I guess I'll start here."

"Alright. I'll pull a bench closer so we can work out next to each other."

"Okay," you reply, putting your water bottle down on the floor so you could set up. You raised the bar until it was shoulder height, moving to one side and adding some weight before adding that same amount of weight to the other side. You move back to the center of the bar, glancing over to see Guy place two large weights on a bench right beside your machine. You briefly wonder how much they weigh before you position yourself for squats.

You don't push yourself too hard. You do what you're used to, four sets of ten reps, increasing the weight by five or ten pounds once or twice to challenge yourself. You can feel eyes staring at you, but every time you glance over at Guy, he's looking away. You feel like you're going crazy as you reset the bar and take off the weights.

You opt for hip thrusts next, grabbing a foam bar to put over the metal bar you're using. You rearrange a nearby bench to sit in front of the bar, getting down on the ground after adding weights to the machine. You do some hip thrusts, four sets of ten again, only getting up once to add ten pounds to the bar. You can feel the strain in your ass when you're done, panting slightly after your last set. When you're finished, Guy shows up at your side.

"Can we trade for a bit?" he asks. You nod.

"Sure," you say, just a little bit breathless. You get up and move out of the way, letting him change the weights on the machine. You go to the bench he was using, taking your water bottle with you. You glance at the size of the weights he was using.

"One hundred pounds?!" you whisper in disbelief, glancing back at him. He's still adding weights to the bar. You swallow hard, humbly grabbing the five pound weights before returning to the bench.

You do some basic arm exercises: bicep curls, tricep extensions, just a couple you can think of. All the while, Guy has been doing hip thrusts and glancing at you every minute or so. You try to ignore him, to focus on your own workout, but his stare is so intense sometimes that you can't focus. He eventually finishes, getting up and stretching a bit. He walks towards you, leaning down.

"I'm going to run to the restroom really quick. You can have the machine back, if you want."

"Oh, okay. Thank you." He nods, walking away. You return your five pound weights and look at the weights he put on the Smith machine. You add up the weights together, slowly realizing that he was working out with more weight than you held on your entire body. You marvel at the idea of him being so strong before slowly removing each of the weights, putting them back in their proper place.

You decide to do dead lifts, adding weight to the bar before positioning yourself in front of it. You start your dead lifts, watching yourself in the wall-length mirror. You notice Guy show up when you're halfway through your routine, slowly approaching you. He's watching you, staring at you, more specifically at your lower half as you bend over. You finish your set, processing that he'd been staring at your ass the last couple of minutes of your workout. You reset the bar, turning around to face him, hands on your hips.

"You good?" you ask, a bit of sass in your tone. His eyes widen and dart away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I'm good. I was just, um, going to see what else you wanted to do." You shrug.

"I'm pretty much done. You can keep going and I can just watch, if you want." He clears his throat.

"I just wanted to do one last exercise on the Smith before we go."

"Okay." You step out of the way, holding out your hands and presenting the machine to him. He smiles, moving to change the weights on the machine. You stand to the side with your water bottle, watching him add weights, adding them up in your head. He's added your body weight to the machine plus thirty more pounds. He moves the bench, laying down on it before grabbing the bar, preparing to do a bench press. You watch in amazement and almost horror as he bench presses your weight and then some on the Smith machine. Your eyes are wide as you stare at him moving up and down smoothly, barely straining under the weight. You glanced around to see other people in the gym staring at him, especially the women. A couple giggle and whisper to each other as they look at him, probably talking about how hot he is or something like that. You feel a tad bit embarrassed. What were you doing with a man like this? He was so much more competent in the gym than you were; it was a wonder that he wanted to work out with you at all. Maybe he regretted it, you wondered as he finished his last set, resetting the bar and sitting up. You glance at him in the mirror, and he's staring at you intensely, eyes dark.

"I'm... gonna go fill up my water bottle real quick," you say, turning on your heel and walking to the water fountains.

You unzip your jacket, feeling hot as you fill up your water bottle. You pondered your relationship with Guy, if it would last, if it was even worth it as your water bottle filled up.

"Hey," you hear beside you and you stop filling your water bottle, glancing at the man that had approached you. He was tall, not as tall as Guy, but he still towered over you. He wasn't as buff as Guy either, but he still looked very strong. "I like your outfit."

You glanced down at yourself before giving him a smile.

"Oh, thank you! I got it online."

"It suits you well." He leans against the wall, smirking at you. "I've never seen you around here before; are you new?"

"Oh, yeah, kind of. I've never been here before."

"Well, welcome." He holds out his hand. "I'm Josh." You hesitantly take his hand and shake it.

"I'm Y/N."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." He pulls his hand away but still lingers. "You know, if we come to the gym at the same time, I could be your workout buddy. I could spot you and help you train."

"Oh! No, that's not necessary. I don't need a spotter."

"You don't? That sucks. I'd love to help you workout sometime."

You're about to ask him why when a large arm impedes on the space between you and this stranger, palm hitting the wall and making Josh jolt. You look up to see Guy, who is glaring daggers at the man you just met.

"Oh! Hey dude, I didn't know you were here today. You just get here, or...?"

"No," he grumbles, turning to you. He whispers a 'sorry' before zipping your jacket up again, covering your cleavage. He grabs your hand, turning to glare again at Josh. "We were leaving."

"Oh," he says, glancing between the two of you before raising his eyebrows. "Oooh. Got it, my bad dude, I didn't know she was off limits." He takes a step back but waves at you. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. Have a good day."

"What was that about?" you ask as Josh jogs off.

"Just an asshole that has no business talking to you." He looks back at you, his expression softening. "Would you like to get lunch now?"

You blink, giving a small shrug.

"Sure, we can."

"Are you mad at me?" Guy asks as you sit down with your food. You furrow your brow, taking a sip of your drink.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"Well, ever since we finished at the gym, you've been quiet. Was it because I zipped up your jacket again without asking you? Because I—"

"Guy." He stops, closing his mouth. "I'm not mad at you. I just... was thinking."

"About what?" he asks, taking a huge bite of his sandwich. You stare at your food, pouting before looking up at him.

"Don't scold me," you mumble. He shakes his head and you sigh. "I saw you lifting those weights earlier and I just felt so inadequate. I mean, there's plenty of other women more fit than I am, beautiful women with great personalities and perfect boobs and I just—"

"Stop." He puts his sandwich down, chewing the last bite before swallowing. "I don't want a woman like that. I want you. That's why I'm courting you; that's why I asked you to be my girlfriend. I want you, Y/N, nobody else. I want you because of who you are now, not who you could be. Okay?"

You curl into yourself, feeling your cheeks burn.

"Okay." You squirm a little. "I'm sorry for needing so much reassurance. You'll probably get annoyed with me, huh?"

"I can't promise that I'll never get annoyed with you, because anything is possible, but I promise I will never leave you or dislike you even if I'm annoyed." You swallow.

"Are you annoyed now?"

"No." He grabs his sandwich again, bringing it to his lips. "I honestly can't imagine ever being annoyed with you, but I suppose anything can happen."

"What would make you annoyed with me?" He shrugs after taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Maybe if you started dieting to lose weight, or if you broke up with me just because you thought I deserved someone different. Those things would bother me quite a bit."

You nod in understanding, sipping your drink again.

"What could I do that annoys you?" he asks. You hum.

"Well, if you try to control me, or tell me what to do when I didn't ask for your input. If you made mean comments about me or my body. If you did stuff like that, I would break up with you." He nods.

"I wasn't planning on doing any of that, but I'll keep that in mind." His shoe taps yours. "Don't let your sandwich get cold."

"I won't," you huff, sticking your tongue out. He chuckles as you grab your sandwich and take a bite, moaning happily. "Oh my god, it's so good."

"It is, isn't it? I love this place."

"How did you find it?"

"I was just looking for somewhere to eat for lunch one day and stumbled upon it. Now I come here pretty regularly."

"I can see why. This is delicious!"

He smiles, taking another bite. The both of you eat in silence for a little while.

"So," you begin, putting down your half-eaten sandwich and wiping your hands on a napkin, "what was the deal with that Josh guy? Do you hate him or something?"

He groans, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not fond of him. He's a huge flirt with all the women at the gym, and he ghosts them after he fucks them."

"How do you know all of this?"

"Because he brags about it to all the guys who will listen. He brags about sleeping with women at the gym and then never texting them back. He's an asshole." He takes another bite of his sandwich, huffing. "I don't want you exposed to a guy like that." You hum.

"And why did you zip up my jacket all day?"

He pauses as he goes in for another bite, glancing up at you. He closes his mouth, swallowing hard, glancing down at your chest before looking back in your eyes.

"I didn't want people to look at you." You raise your eyebrow.

"You mean my chest?" He hesitates but nods. You nod slowly. "I see. So you didn't want people looking at my titties?" He scoffs, coughing for a moment, covering his mouth.

"I guess, if you wanna say it like that." You smile, humming. You twist your mouth, reach for your zipper and slowly pull it down, exposing your cleavage. His eyes widen, flicking down to your chest and back to your face. He glances around the restaurant and you giggle.

"Nobody is looking but you, dingus. Nobody else cares."

"That's what you think. I've seen the way people look at you."

"Oh, really?" You take another bite of your sandwich as he nods. "And how do they look at me?"

"Like they wanna fuck you." You shake your head as he takes his last bite, picking up stray ingredients on his plate and eating them.

"You're crazy. Nobody wants to fuck me but you."

"If you can't see it, then you're blind." You scoff.

"Rude. The only person people were looking at today was you when you lifted all those weights." He scrunched up his face, shaking his head.

"Nobody was looking at me."

"Yes, they were. There were a couple of guys and girls looking at you. Bet the girls were thinking about asking for your number."

"Well, I wasn't paying attention to them, so they don't matter. All I was thinking about was you." You take another bite of your sandwich.

"Is that why you were lifting weights heavier than me?" you asked.

"Ah. So you did notice."

"Yeah, I did. What was that all about?" He wipes his mouth with a napkin, sighing deep.

"I wanted to impress you." You nod slowly, swallowing your food.

"Well, I was thoroughly impressed. And horrified. I thought the weights were gonna crush you."

"I wouldn't let that happen. I'm too strong."

"Yeah, no shit. I've seen that several times."

"Well..." He scratches at a spot on the table, not looking at you. "I wanted you to see it again."

You sigh, glancing at your sandwich.

"I was very impressed," you continue. "But I already knew you were strong when you picked me up at our last date."

"I know. But that was only temporary because you didn't like it. I wanted to show you that I could hold your weight for longer."

You hum, taking another bite.

"Then why did you use my weight for the hip thrusts?" you ask, glancing at him. You see him squirm in his seat, scratching at his jawline, avoiding eye contact. You squint at him, thinking, before your eyes widen and your mouth falls open.

"Oh my god. Oh my god!" You gasp, covering your mouth to hide your shocked smile. "Guy, you—oh my god, are you kidding me?!"

"I wanted to impress you," he whispered harshly, still not looking at you. You reach across the table and playfully slap his bicep.

"You bad boy!" you tease, shaking your head. "I can't believe you. Doing hip thrusts to impress me? Oh, you're naughty."

"Don't tease me," he grumbles, pressing his forehead against the table and sighing loudly. "I feel stupid."

"You're not stupid. Don't say that."

"I'm embarrassed."

"You're cute." He turns his head to look up at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"You think I'm cute?"

"Yes. I've told you this before, you silly goose." You finish your sandwich as he sits up straight, taking a deep breath.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"When I take you home, can I kiss you?" You choke on your last bite, covering your mouth with your hand and coughing. He reaches across the table for you, but you hold up a hand to stop him.

"You—hack—you want to kiss me?!" He nods, eyes locked on you. You shake your head and laugh lightly. "Well, at least you asked instead of just doing it.

He pulls up in front of your apartment, opening the door for you to get out. He walks you up the stairs.

"I really enjoyed today," he tells you sincerely. You smile at him.

"I really liked today, too. Thank you for inviting me."

"Of course." He stops when he reaches the door with you. "I'd love to do this again sometime, if you'd like."

"I'd like that." He returns your smile, staring at you. You lean on one foot, tilting your head. "So, I guess you want that kiss now, huh?"

"If that's okay."

You giggle, pulling on his hoodie, coaxing him to go down one step so that his face is closer to yours. You cup his cheeks with both hands, smiling sweetly at him.

"You ready, handsome?" He swallows, licking his lips.

"Yeah."

You sigh, leaning in and puckering your lips before pressing them gently against his. His mouth is receptive to yours, letting you mold against him and kiss him sweetly. Your lips push and pull for a moment, his large hands coming to rest on your wrists, holding your hands against him. You give him one last kiss before pulling away, smiling at him. His eyes slowly open, hazier than before.

"Thank you," he whispers, drunk off of your lips. You rest your forehead against his, staring into his eyes.

"Next time we'll use tongue," you whisper back. He chuckles, turning his head to kiss your palm.

"I don't know if I can handle that yet."

"We don't need to rush," you reassure him. "I like the pace we've been going at. I appreciate you letting me take the lead on most things."

"You're welcome."

You pull away, patting your hand against his chest.

"Can I call you tonight?" he asks.

"Of course." He smiles wide.

"Cool." He clears his throat, stepping down. He gives a small wave, which you return. "Bye."

"Bye, Guy."

He takes the steps two at a time, jumping down the last three and landing on the concrete. You giggle as he practically skips to his car, giving you one last wave before he gets in, driving off.

You enter your apartment, doing a little dance as you make your way to the bathroom for a shower.

#chubby reader x buff guy

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