#pay him the cash... man
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I saw this and had to post it because Juan Soto is a true Yankee. He has the passion and the talent, and he needs to be a Yankee forever!!! I implore you, Mr. Cashman,... PAY. THE. MAN. PLEASE 🙏🏼 He has found his forever home in New York. He needs us, and we need him. I can't imagine the Yankees without him now that he is here. PAY. THE. MAN. I love Juan Soto!! ❤️ Let's go Yankees!!!!! This is our year!!!
#juan soto#22#Yankee forever#i love Juan#PAY#THE#MAN#Please#he's a true Yankee#through and through#passion#talent#NY is his home now#we need him#he needs us#love#happiness#thank you#sharing#joy#baseball#sports#ny yankees#let's go yankees#ny baseball#bronx bombers#Brian Cashman#pay him the cash... man#i love this guy#i love this game
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You know all the mentions of burning and fire and destruction along with the parallels and the overall aesthetic and vibe Hangman should come out to Ring of Fire at some point
#get that man some johnny cash the next time he faces swerve#tk pay whatever you have to just to get him that song dawg#hangman adam page#aew#aew lb
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thats not leaking blood the colours are just a little stylized 😭 i cant be the only person who genuinely likes that portrait
I said if u squint it looks that way, I understand that it's not the intention bud. And ur probably not the only one but it's certainly a niche opinion. Like I've been racking my brain to think of reasons the artist might want to make it look like he was painting on a meat canvas and none of them are particularly flattering to ol king chuck. The artist wanted the military uniform to fade into the background to bring the man himself into better focus and humanise him. Which. yeah trying to cover over their violent history by humanising themselves is certainly what the royal family are going for these days so shoutout to the artist for getting the assignment ig lmao. And the one fucking incongruous butterfly that was apparently Charles' idea really gets me
Anyway no royal portrait was gonna work for me, in the same way that I'd be pissed if my landlord was like "hey look what I spent ur rent money on" and it was a fuckin statue of themselves, yk? Royal portraits in general are flimsy fuckin propaganda that waste our damn money, and this one is no different to me, it's just a more self-serving version
#apologies for the shinigami eyes link. it's a guardian article#like the look of the painting is kind of neither here nor there to me. like it's a weird choice but I'd hate it either way#looking at ur tags I can't disagree that it's an accurate representation of the man#it was also queen camilla's impression of the portrait apparently. like yea that's definitely him#like yea there's a lot of technical skill on display. obviously. they're royalty. they can afford the best in the business#it's just high quality art in service of a useless subject#and like I said there are some real negative ways that an anti-monarchist like myself can read the artistic choices made#I'm not convinced that he's not on our side lmao#and who's paying for this portrait? the taxpayers? during a cost of living crisis? or is it cash from the duchy he inherited#or is it leftover money from his fuckin tax dodge#like my main opinion on the portrait is: stop trying to make king charles happen. it's not gonna happen#the way the media has desperately tried to get charles the same affection as the queen is pathetic#british monarchy abolished in my lifetime let's make it happen
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hate my sister's shitty good for nothing boyfriend. can you imagine being a 30yo man with two kids who won't even scramble an egg. Not for his kids, not for his girlfriend, not for himself. literally if my sister doesn't leave out pre-made meals when he's watching the kids he will rip up bread or pour them dry cereal or open a granola bar and make himself microwave dinners. like, lowest effort possible. but if i mention this to my sis, she'll be like "no he's definitely cooked for the kids! he scrambled an egg for them once! i watched him do it!" but it's like...so he scrambled one egg in the last five years. just to like, prove he can? at your direct insistence? should we all clap? like seriously. hate this guy. had to really hold back recently because he had someone over and he was interacting with the kids more than usual for appearances, and he had to keep asking me and my sis what the 5yo was signing because he barely bothered to learn his own son's primary form of communication. i was so tempted to say "that one means 'go home' but you wouldn't know that because you don't take them anywhere." so hard to hold that in. If I had to describe this man in two words they would be these: Low Effort. Not quite bare minimum, but JUST enough to convince my sister that it would be too much hassle to get rid of him. he's stupid as fuck, but just smart enough to quickly stop shit like screaming obscenities at the kids for doing normal kid things. and he once stomped on my headphones and broke them in a fit of rage, but gave my sister money to replace them so it was "fine." Like, my sister thinks that he's just struggling with his anger issues, because he had a bad childhood, blah, blah, and oh he would never actually hurt her or the kids. and like, good for you, but i don't trust like that. genuinely hoping he gets struck by lightning and dies instantly.
#my sister and i do all the hard stuff and most of the easy stuff too tbh#cooking and cleaning and sorting out benefits and insurances and getting the kids to school and events#doctor's appointments and medications and dentist appointments and taxes#we get the groceries and care for all the pets and kids and household things#we both have jobs#i actually have 3 jobs#good for nothing boyfriend makes $12 a year plus some under the table cash as a “private trainer”#which means between that and selling his plasma and borrowing money from his mom he can...pay his super cheap tiny part of rent#and occasionally hand my sister like $20#he doesn't buy groceries or diapers or household supplies or clothing or toys or literally anything#literally the only household chore he does is fold laundry#that's it. and it's not “DO” laundry. it's just folding the clean and dry stuff#you know. the chore my parents would have us do when we were like 10 so we'd feel helpful#the 5yo is medically complex and we frequently make trips to a slightly distant hospital with him#and they literally asked us to stop bringing my sister's boyfriend along because he was disruptive and confusing#which was a polite way to say 'obnoxious and stupid as shit'#do you know how many times in one visit w/the same doctor he would ask 'so when does he get superpowers?'#he also obviously didn't know how to answer basic questions like 'how many times does he poop a day on average'#and 'how often has he been eating and what has he been eating day to day?'#like bro this man can go days without changing a diaper and will not even heat up a can of spaghettios to feed his own kids#he cannot answer those questions with any kind of accuracy#also i'm saying boyfriend because my sister desperately wanted to at least be engaged so she could say fiance in front of ppl#but just like marriage this was apparently a 'waste of effort'#not even the cheapest ring or the most underwhelming proposal or a courthouse wedding was worth his energy so...#yeah glad she hasn't married this waste of air. and i'll be praying for that lightning strike
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i need to vent in the tags abt the housemate, and i need to find a new word for this person bc "mate" is much too friendly rn.
#( OUT OF SOULS. )#vent tw#rant tw#negativity tw#( so )#( we all get paid the exact same amount here )#( like our bosses divide the hours so the full-time staffers earn the same amount each month )#( and tomorrow it's my birthday so we planned to go out for sushi )#( last night on the way home from work )#( he tells me: 'you'll have to cover for me on thursday.' )#( me: you mean you can't go? )#( be aware that i said that as firmly as i can manage )#( and he goes: 'no no i can go but i need you to pay for me.' )#( 1) we both earn the same amount of cash )#( 2) he doesn't like sushi. he keeps acting like a fucking martyr over the sushi. )#( 3) it's my birthday dinner )#( 4) he's a grown ass man. he's 36 years old. )#( 5) this is NOT the first time i've given him money )#( and 6) in the next four months we have weeks off work )#( i got so stressed last night and panicked that i didn't sleep. )#( idek what to do anymore. )
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I love it when people use their free will bestowed upon them by the creator and choose to use the self checkout only to then throw a hissy fit at the supervising minimum wage worker (me) that they have to do things with their own hands and eyes and brains
#had a guy just now who first decided he wouldn't read the giant blinking sign that says 'card only' and tried to pay cash#and then got upset when i told him this. then got more upset when i told him he had to click on a button to activate the chip reader#(mind you it says so on the screen)#then loudly exclaimed that this is 'some fucking shit'#then tried to leave without his receipt and got MORE upset when i told him he needs the receipt to get out (there's a little gate that opens#when you scan it)#when just crushed the crumpled receipt against the scanner. this predictably did not work#i took the receipt from him to scan the barcode and he bitched at me that 'don't you want to go sit in a register???? that would be fucking#easy at least' and i said 'not for me' and he got even more upset#hey man it's not my fault you're a stupid cunt. learn to read. bitch#rayrambles
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Man, today was absolutely mental. I don’t think I’ve ever come so close to losing it with a customer
#‘which customer’ you ask. well first there was rude ice cream man#he came in… i want to say before noon? i think it was before we became absolutely inundated#and he was MAD rude for what#he was buying like 4 ice creams so he def had kids with him and was a frustrated father or uncle or grandpa or hired babysitter or whatever#but DUUUUUUDE. there’s no need to give me the blank ☹️ face and ignore all of my questions and exchange zero pleasantries#then there was the lady whose phone died and she couldn’t pay and she was so nice but why. why#like of course i can’t just let you have this stuff. it could be theft. my manager put her stuff in a fridge and then she came back for it#later and i had to go find it and it was so much#she was so nice though i hope she’s well#THEN there was the motherfucker who was buying… i can’t remember what but his total was £5.35#and i remember this because he was trying to insist on paying for it with exactly three (3) £1 (£1) coins. like sir. that doesn’t work.#that’s not enough. i Could Not get it through his head that i couldn’t take cash unless he gave me at least £2.35 more#eventually i managed to get a contactless card payment out of him and he grumbled about how he was going to have to carry these three pound#coins around with him (ohhhh my god what a hardship 🙄) and about how money was leaving his bank account#like idk how to tell you this but we serve overpriced food here sir. if £5.35 leaving your bank account is a big problem for you you picked#the wrong place to come. also like. you could’ve just. spent only £3 lmao. you had two items#the retail section def sells stuff that’s £3… you didn’t have to do this. like at all. and i’d be happier if you hadn’t#THEN my coworker decided to let two fucking customers in after we closed and they both wanted machine coffees and they took SO long#the one guy had admittedly been queuing just before we closed but the woman just rocked up solidly five minutes too late and was like ‘i’ve#come so far :( it’s been such a long journey :( i just need any coffee :(‘#i REALLY wanted to say ‘fuck your journey and fuck your coffee. plan better’ but instead i had to make an americano#i don’t think i even tried to hide how mad i was#like hiiiii i know you don’t care but this is my life. this is taking time away from me being able to clean down for the closing shift#which is going to take time out of my life because i’m only paid until five#i know you don’t care that i’ll have to do unpaid work but like. here’s your fucking coffee. lol#there was also this other guy and i can’t remember what he did or said but i remember i was passive-aggressively sugary sweet with him#because it was the only way i could let my annoyance out. i love being sarcastically nice in this job because they can’t call you on it#or they look crazy#in summary i had a fucking day. thanks for asking#personal
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Personally if I created a character that I hated from the depths of my soul and the general public loved I would do the same as acd I understand him we starving authors gotta eat I am not different
#oh wow all of you love him but hes a despicable little man to me?#but youll pay me to write about him?#send me the cash
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I love that sign!!! I agree!! Juan Soto should be a Yankee forever 😍 I love that guy. He's so much fun to watch, and he's a phenomenal baseball player!! PAY. THE. MAN. PLEASE 🙏🏼
LET'S GO YANKEES!!!!!
#juan soto#22#PAY#THE#MAN#please#Soto belongs in the Yankees#he's juanderful#i love Juan Soto#love#happiness#thank you#sharing#joy#Yankees forever#baseball#sports#ny yankees#let's go yankees#ny baseball#bronx bombers#i love these guys#i love this game#my boys#he's found his home#it's our year#give him the cash man Cashman
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bro why is my manager so rancid. i was getting myself a cup of water and he said "have you marked that off? (recorded as a loss)" and i said "its just water.... ?" and he was like "you have to mark it off. that water and cup costs us money." bro is getting mad over something that cannot cost more than 3 cents. most likely even less. also he got angry that i got it before i clocked out for my break, using (gasp) 15 seconds of work time. oh okay so we're doing enemies to lovers then?
#just kidding the thought of seeing him in a romantic light makes me wanna puke#also i worked an hour and a half overtime past my break and when things finally got quiet i asked him if i could go#and he gave me a death glare as if i told him im leaving early#um. maybe im being insane here but i do not think its unreasonable to ask when i can take my break if i work 1 ½ hours overtime.#man whatever. i just wanna cash in all my sick leave + holiday leave pay before i quit this job
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IF YOU NEEDED ME !
simon riley/reader – 7.1k words sale of a lifetime mini series !
tags: smut, childhood best friend!simon, virginity for sale trope, unrealized feelings, soft!simon, protective!simon, virgin!reader, afab!reader, no prns for reader
cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, wet & messy, fingering, creampie, mid-sex love confession, a little arguing but nothing crazy tbh, petnames (love, lovie, sweetheart)
; he remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. he never thought he was deserving of such happiness. but now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.
or.
he may not have been the first man you picked to give your first time to. but looking back, you realized he was the only right choice in the end.
Meeting some unknown, shady guy out on the street outside of a seedy bar wasn’t the smartest decision you’ve ever made. Nor was it how you actually intended to spend your Friday evening. But it was the only option you had at the moment, so you swallowed your nerves and forced yourself to stay put at the spot the guy had chosen despite the fact that being out on the street made you feel x10 more nervous and vulnerable.
You could hear the loud music and chatter inside the bar every time the door opened to let someone in or out. There was a chill in the air that had you contemplating actually going inside and just telling the guy to meet you in there – you were about to give the bastard your damn virginity, the least he could be was accommodating to your temperature struggles. Plus, you could really use a drink.
A car, expensive by the looks of it, pulling up to the curb had you pausing in that train of thought. You recognized him from his profile picture when he stepped out of the vehicle – Lucas, you recall being his name. Whether that was really his name or not didn’t matter; all that mattered was he brought what he promised.
“You have the money?” you asked when he approached you, giving him a tight-lipped smile as a greeting.
“Yeah, got it in the car. All cash, I hope that’s alright,” he grinned, a sight that made a shiver go down your spine. His tone didn’t match the smile, all transactional and dull despite the glimmer in his eyes.
He wasn’t necessarily unattractive but he certainly wasn’t your type. There was a look in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl because you felt like you were nothing but a piece of raw meat in front of a starving, salivating predator.
“We should get going,” he said, hurrying to open the backseat of his car for you.
You paused, “Aren’t we going to go inside or something?”
He looked confused, grip on the door tightening for a moment before he bursted out laughing. When he saw the shocked look on your face he sobered up, “Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me. Sweetheart, this isn’t a date. I’m just here to get what I paid for.”
“Oh…” you swallowed around the lump in your throat at the condescending tone, humiliation making your cheeks burn, “Right.”
Tears stung the back of your eyes and you quickly averted your gaze so he wouldn’t see how much that stung. Of course, you knew it wasn’t a date. This was a transaction. But you at least thought you’d get to know the guy who was about to take your virginity. You should have known better.
A man who was paying for your virginity wasn’t bound to be someone you could trust to feel comfortable around. You quietly sigh, resigning yourself to this all for the sake of some fucking money.
You settle into the car, heart jumping into your throat when the door slams. It feels as if you’ve just sealed your fate and you can’t deny that you’re scared.
But there’s an envelope next to you that you can see stuffed with bills and you clench your fists, trying to calm your racing heart by closing your eyes and breathing.
You just hope this decision doesn’t cost you your life or something. You’d hate to imagine what that would do to a certain someone.
Suddenly, the car jostles. Your eyes snap open and you see Lucas is jacked up against the side of the car, a very familiar form caging him in. His scarred hands grip the man’s shirt in tight fists. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can see Lucas is chattering frantically, gesturing wildly with his hands in an attempt to quell the angry man in the skull balaclava.
You curse to yourself, a different kind of terror shocking through your system. Lucas is thrown to the side and you wince at how hard he hits the pavement before the car door is jerked open.
You can’t even say anything before a strong, rough hand wraps around your arm, yanking you out. You stumble once you’re on your feet, falling right into his chest.
You try to pull away but his arm clamps down around you.
Lucas is cursing and screaming his head off, words you don’t even bother to try and decipher because you’re too preoccupied with the masked figure that made his sudden appearance. Nerves make your knees shake and from the look of pure rage in his eyes, you know you’re in deep shit.
Lucas opens the car door and slams it before driving off, tires squealing against the pavement before he vanishes. Along with that wad of cash that was going to be yours in just a short time.
Suddenly you’re angry, shoving your hands against his chest to get him away from you.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Riley?!” you shriek, shooting him the fiercest glare you could muster.
“I should be askin’ you that,” he sneers, “The hell were you doin’ with that prick?”
“I–”
“Don’t answer that,” he snaps, cutting you off swiftly, “I know what you were doin’. If you needed money that badly you should have told me.”
“It’s not your concern, Simon!” you cry, resisting the urge to petulantly stomp your foot.
You’re so pissed.
Simon Riley and you went way back, childhood friends. The two of you had always been in each other's lives. Simon especially was always there when you needed him, a beacon of safety and protection. Your best friend and someone you loved to the ends of the Earth.
But right now, you’re so angry with him that you can’t seem to think straight.
How dare he show up now, when you’re about to do the most humiliating act of your entire life. How could he show his stupid, masked face here when you didn’t even ask for his help in the first place for a reason.
“You are always my concern,” he shoots back, scarred knuckles turning white from how hard he clenches his fists, “I have always taken care of you. You should have come to me for help instead of puttin’ yourself in danger like this. You didn’t know that guy, what the fuck were you thinking?”
Anger makes your skin hot, sweat beading on your forehead, blocking out the chill that once made goosebumps rise. You feel ashamed that you were caught in this situation – that the man you’ve known your entire life knew you were about to sleep with some random asshole for a fat wad of cash. You don’t like that he’s made you feel ashamed and confronted you with it.
“Just fuck off, Simon!” you shriek, the only thing you can think of before turning on your heel and stalking away from him.
You don’t glance over your shoulder to check if he’s following because you know he most likely is – from a safe distance to make sure you make it inside your apartment alright but far enough that you can’t get mad at him for it. Your jaw is clenched so tightly that you feel a headache radiating down your neck.
By the time you reach your apartment, the anger has simmered and all you’re left with is a festering shame that makes tears fill your eyes. You wrap your arms around yourself and quickly shuffle yourself inside, not bothering to check if Simon is out there or not. All you want is to get a hot shower and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend.
You do just that, letting the burning hot water scald your skin until you can’t feel any emotions except exhaustion. And then, you crawl into bed and let sleep overtake you without a second thought.
When you wake up, it’s clear that it’s late into the afternoon. The sun is high in the sky and shining painfully bright through the crack in your curtains. You groan and roll over, slapping the bed to find your phone.
You grab the device and unlock it, taking a moment to scroll through your notifications. There’s some angry messages from the guy from last night – cursing you out for setting him up to be jumped. It makes you roll your eyes before a particular notification catches your eye.
It’s from your bank – alerting you of a deposit.
You sit up straight in your bed, brows furrowed before your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see your bank statement. It’s more than you needed and you know exactly who was responsible.
You jump out of bed, not even bothering to dress out of your pajamas before you’re shoving some slides onto your feet and storming out of your apartment.
You’re so heated that you can’t even remember the walk to Simon’s place, your mind racing a million miles a second. You storm up to the door and slam your fist on it, the hard wood making your hand sting from how hard you pound.
The radiating tingle of pain is quickly forgotten when the door swings open.
Simon stands there, looking down at you expectantly. He leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wears an army-issued t-shirt that’s a bit too tight. The sleeves stretch taunt around his biceps and you can make out the swell of his pecs. It’s not very often that you get to see his tattooed arms, littered with scars since he tends to wear long sleeves most of the time.
He doesn’t look at all surprised to see you, clearly having expected you. The apathetic look in his eyes just solidifies that you were right all along.
“What the hell is your problem?!” you cry without so much as a greeting.
He sighs, broad shoulders rising and falling with it before he opens the door wide and motions you inside. You duck underneath his outstretched arm, turning to watch as he closes the door and locks it.
He wanders into the kitchen and you realize you can smell bacon. He doesn’t seem at all surprised by your outburst nor does he seem interested in acknowledging your question.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, only solidifying how unperturbed he is by your display of anger.
“No!” you snap, “I want to know why you did that, Simon!”
He sighs again, much louder but doesn’t respond. You stand in the doorway to his kitchen, watching him plate his lunch – which is actually just breakfast food. He places the dish on the table and pauses, looking up at you.
“You needed the money, I had it,” he offered with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I was handling it on my own,” you say, “I-It was my problem to solve.”
“By sellin’ yourself to some prick?” he snarls, the anger he was masking coming out in a flurry.
“I wasn’t selling myself–” you refute but he slams his palms down on the table. His cutlery clatters with the action and you jump.
“I read that post you made,” he hisses, teeth bared, “There’s no fuckin’ reason you should be selling your virginity for some cash when I was right here the whole time!”
Your cheeks burn when he brings up your virginity, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “I-It’s mine to sell if I want to! I needed that money!”
“And now you have it,” he says with finality.
He takes a seat and you stand there, fuming. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together as your mind races to find a rebuttal. He begins to eat, taking large, fast bites that just shows how he’s been conditioned to eat quickly by the military.
“That’s not the point, Simon,” you huff, growing less angry and more frustrated by this conversation. You were just going around in circles.
“Then what is the point?” he snaps, snatching his empty plate and angrily tossing it in the sink. He turns to you again, a frown evident on his face, “You got the money you needed safely. That’s all that matters.”
“It’s too much money, Simon!” you cry, “I was selling something in exchange for it!”
“I care about you,” he says, “That doesn’t matter to me. What’s mine is yours, you know that.”
You silently glare at him, wishing that the heated stare would get through to him. He stands unbothered, staring blankly at you with his fists clenched by his sides.
You hang your head, sighing, “I-I can’t take your money, Simon, alright? I’m already in debt and I’m not going to be in debt to you of all people.”
“You feel like you owe me, is that it?” he asks.
You nod your head, heart rate spiking when he stalks towards you. You’re close enough to smell his body wash and aftershave, a painfully familiar scent that you adore. He stares down his nose at you, brown eyes lidded and lazy.
He reaches out suddenly, rough hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them together until your lips pucker, “Then give me a kiss as payment.”
“H-Huh?” you whimper dumbly, eyes wide in shock as his face grows closer and closer.
“It can be payment for a kiss, lovie,” he coos, syrupy sweet and soft, “Will that make up for it, then?”
The air in your lungs suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. This is a man that you’ve known almost your entire life so you’ve obviously thought about him in a romantic sense at some point. Hell, when you were a teenager you even had a crush on him. But he never once looked at you any other way than as a friend so you quickly got over it – or maybe that’s just what you told yourself. Because as you stand there, staring into his eyes, you realize that kissing him would feel like a dream come true.
You find yourself nodding despite the inner turmoil going on in your head. Simon huffs through his nose before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.
There’s a shock of electricity that goes through you at the contact. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into the kiss, letting him take over. He works his lips expertly against yours, eventually abandoning his hold on your face in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. You gasp into the kiss when he suddenly yanks you closer, your body pressed close against his.
He’s warm and sturdy against you, a solid form of muscle that makes you feel safe and content – just as he always has. His hands are big and rough as they grip your hips, kneading the soft flesh there as he gets lost in kissing you.
“S-Si,” you find yourself muttering without realizing.
He hums in response, chuckling when you continue to mindlessly kiss him. He pulls back, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, thumbing at your jaw as your eyes slowly focus on him, “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?”
“I-I don’t…” you swallow thickly around the forming lump in your throat, “I don’t know. I just…”
“Show me,” he breathes, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice.
The sweet, tender look in his big, brown eyes is what gives you the courage to grab his wrist, leading it just under the hem of your shirt so he can touch your bare stomach. You give him a shy glance from under your lashes, hoping he’ll get the hint that you want more.
You want him.
Simon, in all his experienced wisdom, understands immediately what it is you’re aching for. His hand travels up further, pausing at your ribs, just under the swell of your breast. Your heart hammers in your chest when your gaze meets his. His eyes are lidded, long lashes obscuring his pupils but still burning into you.
He stares deep into your eyes, waiting for any sign of hesitation as his fingers creep higher and higher. You suck in a breath when he cups your breast in his palm, squeezing lightly to feel their weight.
A large, calloused thumb creeps up, passing ever so softly over your nipple until the bud peaks and hardens under the attention. You sigh at the feeling, new shocks washing over you that you’ve never experienced before.
Sure, you played with yourself plenty – you had a healthy masturbation life, you’d say. But you’d always just been focused on reaching an orgasm, never on the build up. You imagine, however, it would never feel as good by yourself as it does with him.
He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine, lips parting as the sound escapes. Simon takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your hands grab his shoulders, desperately clinging to his shirt as you lose yourself in the sloppy kiss.
Drool drips down your chin – it's messy and hot between the two of you. His hand switches to your other breast to give it the same attention as the other. You tremble in his arms, overcome by the insatiable throbbing between your thighs.
You shift on your feet, the fabric of your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You’re so wet, wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. By the time he pulls back, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his.
“You want more?” he asks, voice gravelly as he speaks, as if he’s drunk. You nod your head and he clicks his tongue, “You gotta tell me, sweetheart.”
“I-I want more, Si,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit it.
“Let’s go,” he hums, taking your hand in his as he leads you around the couch towards the hallway.
“Where?” you ask dumbly, hoping that making some kind of conversation would ease the nerves steadily building in your chest.
“The bedroom,” he responds, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand as if he can sense that you’re nervous, “Wouldn’t want to be stripped down in the middle of the living room, I imagine.”
“N-No,” you squeak, cheeks burning even hotter at those words.
You’re going to be naked. In front of another person for the first time. In front of him. Simon.
“There now, lovie,” he whispers as he shuts his bedroom door behind the both of you. He takes your waist in his hands, kneading the soft flesh there, “It’s alright.”
“I-I’m just–”
“Nervous,” he finishes for you, smiling softly when you nod, “I know. We can stop anytime you’d like.”
“I don’t want to,” you rush out, hands coming up to press against his firm chest, “Just…d-don’t be upset when I don’t know what I’m doing.”
The tender way he looks at you sets your heart pounding like a little rabbit. A ghost a smile appears on his lips, “I would never do somethin’ like that.”
“I-I know, I just…” you look down at your feet only for him to catch your chin in his fingers, pulling you to look up at him.
You swallow thickly around the lump in your throat, holding your breath as he descends down. His lips find yours all over again, as exhilarating and mind-melting as the first time.
Just the sweet, deep kiss he gives you has your nerves dissipating a bit – back to normal levels. You no longer feel the desire to flee, you just feel an intense longing and anticipation. You crave more from him.
As if sensing this, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. He slowly starts to pull it up, agonizingly slow. But you’re grateful for it, it gives you time to prepare before you’re bared completely to him. You lift your arms for him, a sign that you’re still okay with this.
He pulls it up over your head and lets the fabric drop to the floor. But he doesn’t look down, he continues looking in your eyes, softly pecking your lips as his hands cup your breasts once more.
When you sigh and lean into his touch, he finally lets himself break the eye contact. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees how pretty your tits sit in his hands. He touches them softly, sweetly brushing over your nipples in admiration.
“Perfect tits, lovie,” he coos, chuckling when you whine in embarrassment.
His head descends, pink lips parting to take one of your nipples in his mouth. It’s hot but his tongue is soft when it circles and flicks at the bud. He sucks, popping off lewdly before switching to the other one.
The sensation makes you squeeze your thighs together, imaging what that would feel like around your clit. Your hole clenches around nothing, drooling messily into your panties. The fabric was so wet by now that it couldn’t soak it up anymore, leaving it to slick up your thighs instead.
Your core ached, a feeling only Simon would be able to soothe.
“Please, Si,” you finally break, whimpering pathetically.
He detaches from your breast, lips wet and swollen from the worship he had been giving your now sore nipples. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing brown and you were sure that yours looked the same.
He stands to his full height, nudging you backwards until your knees hit the bed. They buckled at that, leaving you to fall back against the bed. Simon’s bedding was soft, the scent of detergent and his own body wash filling your senses. You relax at the familiar, comforting scent, sinking into the blankets with a bashful smile on your face.
To Simon, you’re an ethereal beauty. You take the air right out of his lungs with the way you look at him.
He remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. He never thought he was deserving of such happiness. But now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.
He scooches you up the bed, crawling on after you until he’s on top of you. Though you’re still wearing your pants, you feel so vulnerable beneath his weight. He’s heavy and warm and he smells so good. You can’t focus on anything except for him – he’s all around you and it’s exhilarating.
Feeling bold, you reach up and tug at his shirt. He pulls it off with ease, revealing his toned, scarred upper body. You can’t help but trace over some of the ones you’re familiar with – there’s one from a time he fell out of a tree trying to rescue a cat that you had been crying about. He fell out of the tree on the way down, a jagged branch stabbing into his upper arm and slicing it open. There was another one from when you were teenagers, some other kids jumped him and he took a stab to his shoulder trying to protect you. You kiss that one and he softens, as if he’s remembering it too.
He’s always been there for you, an overwhelming presence that you simply couldn’t live without. The fact you’re here, in this bed, about to give him your virginity is something that you never would have expected.
And to think, you were planning to sell it off to some random loser.
“I’m glad you stopped me,” you find yourself whispering.
He looks confused for a second before he hums, nodding in understanding, “I am too.”
“I-I want it to be you, Si,” you whisper, the confession leaving you embarrassed. It’s true, all this time, you realize, he’s all you’ve ever really wanted. You had just buried it deep down so you no longer felt those sparks towards him.
“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers back, as if the two of you are sharing some secret little moment that no one else can hear about even though it’s just the two of you in this room.
“You always do,” you respond, the words making his dark eyes light up.
He kisses you deeply, moving his lips slowly against yours. When your hands come up to grip the back of his neck, he takes that as his cue to move down to your neck, then your collarbones, down the center of your chest between your breasts, the spot between your breasts, and finally your navel.
You lay back, head in his pillows with your hands on either side of your head. You watch him, breathing labored as you wait for his next move. He pauses in his path, looking up through his lashes at you before his fingers find the hem of your sweats. You swallow thickly, holding your breath when he slowly begins to pull the fabric down. You lift your hips to help him, pulling your legs free while being careful not to kick him by accident.
He keeps his gaze on you until you’re settled back down into the bed and the pants are forgotten on the floor to be collected later. Then, he looks down.
Even though you still have your panties on, you know that the white cotton is soaked through and hides absolutely nothing from his view.
You watch as he licks his lips, as if his mouth is suddenly bone dry. His hands are burning hot when he touches you again, sliding over your thighs to your hips. He leans down, pressing his lips against each of your thighs.
His thumb reaches down, stretches over your pubic bone to touch the sticky fabric. You nearly jump at the sensation – someone’s fingers other than your own touching you there for the first time. Simon’s fingers.
As if he can’t help himself anymore, he tugs the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs. You squeal when you’re jostled under the force.
He holds the material up and you’re mortified to see just how wet they are. He runs his thumbs over the crotch and you whine, drawing his attention from them. He drops them to the floor and returns his hands back to you, gripping underneath your knees, so he can spread you all the way open.
Your hands fly to your face, covering your eyes in embarrassment at how exposed you are. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a kiss over the top of your hands before moving back down your body.
You peek through your fingers only to find him already staring at you with a sparkle in his eyes. He carefully spreads your slippery folds apart with his thumbs, the movement causing a wet, sticky sound to emanate from between your legs. The little bud of your clit is hard and twitching as it’s exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. When he’s sure you’re looking he leans down, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. You stop breathing as you watch a fat glob of spit roll down the surface of the smooth muscle and splatter right on your clit.
“Si-!” your squeal of his name is cut off when your eyes roll back in his head as that sinful tongue slides right over your bud.
Your whole body twitches at that, hands falling away from your face so you can reach down and grab his hair. It doesn’t even seem like he notices your grip, focused on slurping up that sensitive nub into his hot mouth.
You choke out a moan, tilting your head back into the pillows as your back arches. It feels just as good as you thought it would when he was giving the same, lewd treatment to your nipples.
He continues to suck and lick your clit until your mind is completely blank and all you can think is him. Then, all at once it stops and he pulls back, letting your bud slip from the heavenly clutch of his lips.
“You ever have somethin’ inside you, lovie?” he asks, bringing up one of his fingers to swipe through the folds of your entrance, as if to show you what he intends.
You swallow to moisten your throat before nodding, “J-Just my fingers.”
“How many?” he asks, growing more confident in prodding at the tight little hole.
“T-Two,” you breathe, any embarrassment you felt long dissipated in the face of true pleasure.
“Alright, lovie,” he hums, “Just lay back, I’ll take good care of you, yeah?”
You nod and do as he says, turning utterly boneless against the blankets. The sweat already slicking your skin despite the fact you’ve only just begun makes the fabric stick to you.
He prods at your entrance for only a second longer before finally, he pushes his thick middle digit inside you. Your cunt is so wet and pliant that it hungrily swallows it up to the very last knuckle. You clench around it intentionally, getting used to the feeling of the foreign finger inside of you for the first time.
It feels so different compared to your own, thicker and rougher. The sensation is so strange but you can’t say you don’t like it – in fact, it feels amazing. You already want another, feeling like one just isn’t enough to give you that unknown feeling you’re chasing. It’s like you have an itch that needs to be scratched and only Simon can do it for you.
As if sensing this, ever the reliable one, he carefully introduces a second finger. The stretch is unfamiliar, a burn around your entrance following as he reaches the last knuckle on that one too. His middle and ring finger stuffed snuggly inside your gooey little cunt as you whine and squirm from the feeling.
Once you’ve adjusted, he slowly begins working them in and out of you. You slick up his fingers easily, streaks of creamy white coating his skin and making his mouth water. When he crooks his fingers up suddenly, prodding at that tender little spot inside of you, your entire body twitches and the most beautiful moan rips from your chest.
He can’t resist leaning down and trapping your pulsing little clit under the flat of his tongue. He doesn’t slurp it into his mouth like before, instead, he just licks over it, pressing it down with the muscle. Your eyes are rolled up and your mouth hangs open as you moan and moan, tugging mindlessly at his hair as he works you towards your orgasm.
It grows and grows, the unrelenting pleasure of his fingers fucking deeply into you and his tongue lapping sloppily at your clit like a mutt driving that knot in your belly to tighten. Drool spills out around his tongue, slipping down to meet his fingers where he easily fucks it into you – the added lubrication not needed but so very welcome with how much wetter and messier it makes you.
“S-Simon…” you pant, gasping to catch your breath as the pleasure makes it hard for you to even think.
He glances up at you through his lashes but doesn’t offer any other acknowledgement. There’s a knowing look in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to wring this orgasm out of your little cunt whether you like it or not.
And fuck, do you love it.
The orgasms you brought yourself in the deep of the night, little hands stuffed down your panties as you played with your clit and stuffed yourself with your own fingers was nothing like what you were experiencing now. Simon’s thick fingers and hot tongue were torturing your little clit until your entire body started to lock up.
You looked at him desperately, unsure what was even going through your mind besides him and how fucking good you felt right now.
Just as you teetered on the edge of this orgasm, he suddenly changed up and swallowed your twitchy little clit into his mouth. He sucked, sending you flying over the edge with a shrill wail of his name. Your legs kicked and twitched, heels hitting him on the back as you trembled and shook through the orgasm that he eagerly fucked out of you onto his fingers.
He suckled your clit, swirling his tongue around it until it was too sensitive and you were tearily pushing him away. When he finally released you, slipping his fingers from your cunt, you were boneless and twitching on the bed. You didn’t even try to close your legs when he pulled away, giving him the perfect view to watch your cute little pussy clench and messily drool cum in the aftermath of your orgasm.
He popped his fingers in his mouth, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering at the taste of your cum tingling on his taste buds. As you came down, eyes closed and breathing heavy, he began pulling at his belt.
You could hear the metal clinking as he dropped it to the floor, peeking your heavy lids open to see him pull the button of his jeans open. As he slowly pulled them down, his underwear went with and suddenly you were more aware than ever.
His cock was something to behold. Thick and veiny, bobbing in the air where it hung – too heavy to actually stand upright. You’d seen dicks in porn before but none of them prepared you for Simon’s. Precum dribbled from the tip, creating a long, gooey string down towards the floor before it broke.
He wrapped a big hand around himself, giving a few good strokes as he reached down to cup his own heavy balls. The hair wasn’t wild or offensive, but neatly trimmed short.
“All good, lovie?” he asked, stepping out of the pool of his jeans and boxers so he could kneel on the bed again.
“All god-good!” you blushed as he laughed, leaning down over you to balance his weight on his elbows.
“You still want this?” he asks, hushed and sweet,
You glance between your bodies to see that intimidating cock, drooling messily over your skin. You realize, quickly, that you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.
When you voice such, he looks relieved, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He sits back on his heels and spreads your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest.
“Hold them there,” he orders, which you follow immediately.
Your elbows circle around your knees, holding yourself open for him as he asked. He whistles low in appreciation when your cum-slicked cunt was spread and exposed for him to prod his cockhead against.
He swipes the tip up and down through your folds, humming appreciatively when your little hole tries to suck him in every time he grazes past it. He nudges your clit, the little bud still hard and sensitive from your orgasm but so eager for more. He couldn’t wait to grant your wish and make you cream on his cock.
You watch him with wide eyes as he starts to push into you. Your jaw drops as you feel that burning stretch, an ache settling between your legs as he continues to sink himself into you.
“F-Fuck, wait, Simon!” you squeal and he halts immediately.
He’s only reached just past the head of his cock but he reaches down to pet your clit. The pleasure shoots through you, making your toes curl and your walls relax around him. He keeps his eyes on your face for any sign that you want him to stop as he moves his hips again.
More and more of his cock sinks inside and his thumb keeps working little circles over your clit until his hips are flush with yours. Your voice breaks as you moan when you realize you’ve taken every single inch of him.
He’s heavy and throbbing inside of you and you clench around him intentionally, forcing a moan from his chest.
He leans down, arranging your knees over his shoulders, folding you up and pressing down on you. He’s heavy and it makes it hard to breathe but that makes it even better – the pleasure of being speared on that fat cock and being utterly helpless underneath this man is better than any fantasy you could have made for yourself.
“Fuck,” he snarls, rolling his hips back before rocking them forward again, heavy balls slapping against you as he does, “Can’t believe you were gonna give this little cunt away to some prick.”
“S-Si,” you whimper, biting your lip at the feeling of him slowly and carefully rocking his hips against yours, “‘M sorry, sh-shoulda been you all this time.”
“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hums, “No one else gets to love you but me, sweetheart.”
“O-Only you!” you agree, nails digging into his shoulders when he hits that spot just right.
He can feel you soaking his cock, drippy cum lathering him up to make every glide of his cock wetter than the last. He sits back up on his knees, adjusting his grip so he can pin your legs wide open, giving him the best view of your greedy cunt swallowing his length up.
He begins to fuck you in earnest, pulling out halfway before sliding home again - nothing like the little movements he gave you to prepare you. He was going to show you exactly why you should only think of giving him this precious pussy for the rest of your life. No one will ever be able to fuck you as good as he can, he’s going to learn your body like the back of your hand and you’re never going to be able to cum as hard as you can with him. You’ll never even want to use your own fingers again when he’s done with you.
You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, take the pleasure and take his cock. He hits so deep, prodding at your cervix in a way that aches but it only feels that much better when it’s mixed with mind-numbing pleasure.
Simon looms above you, panting and groaning as he fucks you like he was made to. He angles his hips just right, blunt nails biting into your thighs where he pins you open, neither of you caring if he happens to break skin while he does. You don’t even register the bite of pain underneath the way his cock prods you g-spot so perfectly.
Your own fingers would have been tired by now, no longer able to work that little spot like you need. Simon’s cock, however, is unrelenting. The pleasure builds and mounts uninterrupted, every stroke of his length sending you higher. His body moves fluidly, rolling his hips tirelessly so he can give you every ounce of pleasure your sweet little cunt needs.
You’re creaming around him, a frothy, milky ring forming around the base every time he sinks in and becoming visible when he pulls back. It’s filthy and messy and makes your cheeks burn but Simon seems to not mind in the slightest.
“So fuckin’ messy, love,” he coos, breathy and slurred, “Look at that, pretty cunt needed some cock, huh?”
“Y-Yours!” you manage to choke out.
“What’s that?” he asks, a crooked, teasing grin on his face.
“Y-Your cock! Only needed your cock, Simon,” you pant, reaching up to grope your own tits, pinching and rolling your nipples meanly. It hurts so good, making you clench around his cock. He moans at the sight, his pretty little virgin tormenting your own nipples.
“That’s right,” he hums, reaching a shaky hand down to thumb at your clit, “Keep pinchin’ those pretty tits, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”
You nod your head, unable to form a vocal response from the new sensation of your clit being played with while he fucks you. It feels so damn good that you could go drunk from it all. Everything in your brain is slow, thoughts of only him and how good you feel are all that’s there. Your entire world, right at this moment, revolves around Simon Riley.
He knows it too, a cocky grin on his face as he works you to your orgasm. You dangle, almost helplessly, staring unblinkingly at his handsome face as he works it out of you.
After what feels like minutes, but is probably only seconds, you cum. Hard.
Your head slams back against the pillows, back arching as you cunt clasps tight around him. You cry out in pure, unadulterated pleasure as he fucks you through it. His thumb keeps working your clit as it twitches and pulses under the digit, cumming nice and pretty for him just like he wanted. Just like you deserved.
You cream his cock messily, it drips down his balls and down your ass to the bedding below. So fucking sloppy and wet, a perfect little cunt made to take his cock.
His brows furrow, mouth falling open as his own orgasm mounts and builds. Now that your well-earned orgasm is out of the way, he can finally let go and allow himself to experience it as well.
“Where do you want it?” he grits out, teeth clenched from the ache of holding back.
His balls draw up, heavy and full. He feels ready to positively explode when you gasp, “I-Inside!”
His head falls back, the loudest, most drawn out moan you’d never expected to come from a stoic man like Simon falling from his lips. It’s deep and primal, full of nothing but euphoria as he spills into you. His load is hot and thick, drooling out of the sides of his cock as he slows his thrusts to milk the least bits of pleasure from the orgasm.
When he comes down, he collapses. Your legs lock around his waist and he draws you tightly into his arms, neither of you caring for the way his weight crushes you. All you care about is being wrapped up in his arms where you belong.
He pulls his neck from your chest and kisses your forehead. Then he kisses your nose. Then your lips.
“Pretty,” he breathes, still drunk on the endorphins of the sex so his lips are a little looser than they’d normally be, “Always thought you were pretty.”
“Really?” you prompt, cheeks heating at his confession.
He hums, “Glad you’re finally mine.”
You beam, “No one deserved me as much as you.”
He nods as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, rolling off of you with a sigh. His cock unplugs your cunt and a gush of your mixed cum comes out, making you whine. He laughs softly, drawing you back into your arms.
You’ve never felt safer and warmer in your life, knowing in that moment that you should have come to Simon all along. There’s no one in the world who would be there for you, more willing and able than he.
this work belongs to rowarn. do not repost to third party websites or use for character ai. reblogs welcome and appreciated!
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#cod x reader#cod smut#ghost x reader#ghost smut
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~ ~ ~
#this is a good one of these kinds of posts I swear#just wanna do a shoutout to my bestie even though I know he won’t see this#but I love him and feel like hyping him up anyway and don’t wanna make a whole actual post about it and annoy everyone#anyway yesterday I took my car in for an oil change and tune up thing and didn’t know how long it was gonna take so I set up a ride#with bestie back to my mom’s place if it was gonna be a while but then they said it’d only be like an hour and a half or so unless there was#actually something wrong with my car in which case we’d just discuss it and go from there. so bestie picks me up at the car place and I tell#him that and say he doesn’t have to stay and I can just wait there at the place if he’s busy but he says nah he gonna hang with me. asks if#I’m hungry and wanna get lunch and I hadn’t eaten yet so it worked out. went to the good Mexican place in town and order in their drive thru#I ask if he wants me to cash app him some money to cover my share and he very aggressively says ‘oh hell no’ which was honestly adorable and#really sweet. goes on to say ‘girl you know you don’t need to worry about money’ which is also super sweet and makes me feel all weird and#wiggly inside cause I’m not used to people being kind to me in that way or just buying me shit just because. and he’s always doing that kind#of stuff too just paying for my food or sending me money if I pick stuff up for us or whatever. dude got bucks at least good for him. but#yeah anyway so we got the food and then he went to a gas station to get us drinks then parked and ate and hung out with me until my car was#ready to go. even offered me money to cover the cost for the car if I needed anything major done and I could just pay him back little by#little. thankfully car is all good but his sentiment was well taken and much appreciated. gave me a big hug before we parted ways as he#usually does and bro gives the best hugs for real they’re so instantly comforting and you really feel the love they make me so happy. and he#even is gonna help me put together a new desk and chair at my house so I’ll have a place to do schoolwork at home and finally setup my tv in#my room. dude does so much for me and will then thank me just for hanging out with him as if I did anything special at all#this man deserves the whole fucking world and I’d do anything for him. love him so much#so ye that’s my hype post for my boy cause I just had to brag about him somewhere and get my feelings out#personal
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the king of monza can do what he wants | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem alonso!reader
the king of monza can win the race, have his relationship exposed and challenge his soon-to-be father-in-law to a duel, he can do what he wants.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
oscarpiastri
liked by olliebearman, danielricciardo and 432,095 others
tagged: lilyzneimer, yourusername, charles_leclerc
oscarpiastri: double header means we crashed on my adoptive parents' couch and forced them to cook for me (only y/n, obviously)
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user1: does he know this isn't his private account?
user2: SHUSH DON'T TELL HIM
user3: we need to enjoy this while it lasts
jackdoohan: oscar, there's still time to delete this
oscarpiastri: why would i delete this?
oscarpiastri: oh
oscarpiastri: oh no
jackdoohan: you might want to warn your kinda dad you've exposed the identity of your kinda mum as your kinda grandad is probably putting out a hit on him as we speak
fernandoalo_oficial: don't call me a grandad 👿🤬😡😠💢😤
jackdoohan: OSCAR QUICK HE'S DISCOVERED EMOJIS HE MUST BE REALLY MAD
user4: fernando, are you okay?
fernandoalo_oficial: i want that frenchies head on a stick
charles_leclerc: i am monegasque!
fernandoalo_oficial: so you do actually want to die?
yourusername: okay let's calm down old man
fernandoalo_oficial: SILENCE I WILL NOT CALM DOWN! THAT'S THE MAN?
yourusername: yes!
fernandoalo_oficial: no.
charles_leclerc: i object!
lancestroll: his eye hasn't stopped twitching since
charles_leclerc: i don't care! he might be crazy but I'M IN LOVE SO BRING IT OLD MAN
user5: wtf have i woken up to this morning
user6: the public execution of the prince of monaco
yourusername: just because he has a samurai tattoo doesn't mean he knows how to use a sword
fernandoalo_oficial: i will tear him apart with my bare hands
user7: i fear this comment section alone has undone all of his funky grandad tiktok PR
user8: he's going to make charles cry in the press conference
yourusername: oh well, charlie is hot when he cries
user9: and how do you know that...
yourusername: that's none of your business 😈
yourusername
liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 2,312,088 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: italy has my heart and so do you <3
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user11: queen got exposed and immediately started flexing her unbelievably sexy bf
yourusername: why wouldn't i? he's so damn FINE
charles_leclerc: teehee (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
user12: you might as well have told me to kill myself
fernandoalo_oficial: enjoy your weekend charles, it will be your last
charles_leclerc: and if i win? i think suspended sentence?
fernandoalo_oficial: @carlossainz55 i have a proposition for you
yourusername: why are we acting like he wouldn't do that for free
carlossainz55: excuse me?
yourusername: i'm calling you a jealous bitch xx
carlossainz55: what is your price nando?
fernandoalo_oficial: i'm not fucking paying you, i was assuming you'd do it in a jealous rage anyway
carlossainz55: ???
user13: the way carlos is being jumped from both sides unprovoked
user14: which ever alonso it is, they choose violence
oscarpiastri: so ... am i off the hook yet?
yourusername: you know we can't say no to you
fernandoalo_oficial: oscar you might actually be my favourite now, thank you for bringing this to my attention
oscarpiastri: sure i'll take it!
charles_leclerc: you can have my heart and everything else for as long as you want
yourusername: looks like you'll never get it back ;)
charles_leclerc: that's fine by me if i get to spend it with you
yourusername: i love you :P
charles_leclerc: i love you more ( > 〰 < )♡
fernandoalo_oficial
liked by jensonbutton, aussiegrit and 1,209,566 others
fernandoalo_oficial: cash prize for anyone who can actually track down this little rat - i just want to talk i swear
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user15: it's official everyone, he's gone crazy
user16: as crazy as he is at least he's bringing the DRAMA 🤩
yourusername: this isn't very peace and love of you
fernandoalo_oficial: that has never been the way in this family
fernandoalo_oficial: but let me make this clear, i mean in a destroy all of your enemies way rather than a jos verstappen way
maxverstappen1: ???
yourusername: destroying our enemies does not mean you can do your best jos verstappen impression and drive your aston martin into charles
fernandoalo_oficial: don't be stupid y/n, the aston martin is too slow, i'm going to steal his brakes
yourusername: and how will you do that boomer
fernandoalo_oficial: ferrari are stupid they probably still haven't changed the passwords or locks since i left
yourusername: @scuderiaferrari excuse me???
scuderiaferrari: ....
user17: so like this is a genuine hit?
user18: mob boss!fernando alonso you are so special to me
user19: sorry charles but it's so sexy
charles_leclerc: drop the address senor i'm not scared of you
lancestroll: he brought the samurai sword btw
yourusername: @f1 DO YOU PEOPLE HAVE ANY SECURITY MEASURES ???
f1: it made a good tiktok 👍
yourusername: you people are useless
charles_leclerc: no worries my love it's all under control
fernandoalo_oficial: i will carve you like a christmas turkey
yourusername: you go anywhere near charles with that sword we're both going romeo and juliet style
user20: what on earth is going on
user21: just smile and wave i think we're watching collective hysteria
f1
liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 3,562,778 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
f1: CHARLES LECLERC WINS FOR FERRARI AT MONZA
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user23: bro heard fernando was gonna steal his brakes and simply just drove so fast he didn't need them
user24: he was like 'oh you want my head on a stick? TRY AND CATCH ME'
yourusername: pretty boy is so so talented it's not fair
yourusername: who am i kidding
yourusername: STUNT ON THOSE HOES I LOVE YOU BABY
charles_leclerc: thank you baby, i simply had to drive so fast so i could give you a kiss
charles_leclerc: and also so i could tell your dad to SUCK ON THAT OLD MAN
user25: he's had too much champagne and might actually get himself killed
user26: i will throw myself in front of that sword for him
yourusername: you and me too buddy - i'll cover your drinks for this evening
fernandoalo_oficial: i still want him dead
charles_leclerc: what the fuck do you want from me? i just won? did you see that freak of an orange car? i look after your daughter like i looked after those tyres
yourusername: so romantic 🤭
fernandoalo_oficial: he just compared you to tyres? have some standards i raised you better?
yourusername: believe me, i do have standards - he's special xx
fernandoalo_oficial: i also won monza with ferrari he's not that special
user27: at least he's stopped with the samurai sword talk?
user28: he did say he still wants him dead though
maxverstappen1: @yourusername why couldn't you have dated lando? would've made this championship a lot easier
landonorris: HUH?
yourusername: please refer to my previous comment about standards
charles_leclerc: hehehehehe
landonorris: HUH???
charles_leclerc
liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 4,523,099 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: grazie mille tifosi !! this is for you and all of your support. i'm glad my family and my love were here to see this win as well. fernando, bring your sword, i'll fight for your daughter's hand.
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user29: i love this family and i've known them a week
user30: fernando might have to go through me as well at this point
yourusername: i love you so much and you have deserved this and more for so so long xx
charles_leclerc: i couldn't do it without you (and our weird little grid family)
yourusername: you're my favourite person in the world and i just love to see you happy
charles_leclerc: you make me the happiest man in the world
yourusername: i love you
charles_leclerc: i love you too
user31: as cute as all this is ^^ where is this duel
user32: can someone PLEASE STREAM IT !!!!! I WILL PAY
user33: I NEED IT I NEED IT
fernandoalo_oficial: come outside
lancestroll: he spent all of the debrief sharpening the sword btw
charles_leclerc: i'm ready girlypop
fernandoalo_oficial: GIRLYPOP ???
yourusername: PEACE AND LOVE BOZO
maxverstappen1: can we get this show on the road please?
lewishamilton: charles please hurry up i've got some serious cash on this tussle
yourusername: how much we talking?
charles_leclerc: i might die and you're checking the wager?
yourusername: because i have faith in you !!!!
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial and 2,136,344 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: he's alive and he's a winner! the king of monza can do what he wants
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user35: prince of monaco? king of monza? bro is collecting titles
yourusername: my husband next 🤞🏻
charles_leclerc: bet
user36: is ANYONE GOING TO TELL US WHAT HAPPENED IN THE DUEL
georgerussell63: it was extremely unprofessional and there will be an extensive powerpoint covering how this won't happen again
fernandoalo_oficial: i'll fight you next time george
user37: don't go off TOPIC
charles_leclerc: i out strategised him lol
oscarpiastri: what he means is that he surprised fernando from behind and wouldn't stop hugging him until he agreed that he wouldn't skewer him like a kebab
charles_leclerc: and it worked! now look he's on my boat giving me his blessing
user38: you're telling me charles hugged his way out of the conflict?
user39: perhaps the most babygirl he's ever been
user40: we need the pictures SHOW IT TO ME RACHEL
fernandoalo_oficial: fine, i guess he's okay. i'm not calling him the king of monza though
yourusername: i knew you'd come around
fernandoalo_oficial: i love my daughter SORRY
yourusername: don't lie to me you only calmed down and accepted it because i called in the reinforcements
user41: i'm crying she called babysitters for her dad
yourusername: jenson and mark, idk how you deal with him
jensonbutton: the stress of him and his antics keep me skinny
aussiegrit: i think we're all trauma bonded
charles_leclerc: i'll be the king of monza, if you'll be my queen
charles_leclerc: and i will continue to do what i want
yourusername: i'll be your queen anywhere you want
yourusername: and if doing what you want includes fighting my dad... let's turn it down a lil
charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything
fin.
note: here yall go - this was in my drafts half done from monza weekend but life got crazy
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff
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Text
Language Barrier
Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader
Word Count: 7K
Tags: fluff, first meeting, first kiss, strangers to lovers
Summary: When the power goes out while you’re in an ATM vestibule, you come to realize you’re stuck inside until the police come to open the door. But there’s one problem, you don’t speak a lick of Korean, and the man inside doesn’t seem to speak an ounce of English.
———
A/N: Please note that sentences that are Italicized are meant to be in Korean and sentences that are regular text are in English.
‘How are you?’ - English
‘I’m fine thank you, and you?’ - Korean
—————————————————————————
Luck was not on your side today.
It’s not like you’re an unlucky person as a whole, no, that’s not it. Today was just one of those days that when you say ‘How could this get any worse?’, the universe takes it as a challenge.
Perhaps you should’ve just kept your mouth shut after you spilled coffee on your blouse this morning. But, you’ve always been such a ‘glass-half-full’ sort of person that you tried to take every inconvenience in stride. Everyone has their limit, though.
Before you came here on a business trip, you had heard about the Korean Monsoon season.
Everyone and their mother told you about how much it would pour, how it would feel like the skies suddenly opened up. But, you didn’t take anyone’s warning seriously. You would wave them off with a scoff.
“It’s just rain,” you thought. “How bad could it be?”
You’re eating those words now as you run through the streets in your nice, newly-soaked, professional heels. Your slacks are sticking to your legs, making the fabric ten times heavier. With your bag held over your head, you look around frantically for the bank.
It doesn’t help that it’s close to 10 PM and visibility is already horrible at this time. Yes, you should have gone earlier, but you were distracted!
Where is it? Where is it?
There!
You spot the glass doors and practically sprint up to them, grab the handle, and rip the door open.
A giant sigh of relief comes out of your lips as you step inside the tiny vestibule.
The only other man inside the place jumps a bit at your noise. He glances over his shoulder at you, but immediately turns back to what he’s doing at the ATM. You pay him no mind as you shake the rainwater off of your bag.
It’s after hours at the bank, meaning the only thing open and available is one ATM inside the room between the bank itself and the streets of Seoul.
Soft beeping comes from the ATM as the other man presses a few buttons. There’s an umbrella on the floor at his feet.
After brushing the water off your jacket, you bring your bag in front of you and start fishing out your card. Countless items inside your bag are now completely soaked.
Ugh, there goes all those business cards you collected at the meeting. Most of the ink is bleeding off the cardstock. Maybe, if you try really hard, you can make out the phone numbers on the cards.
Is that a 6 or an 8?
Or maybe the email addresses will be easier to understand. Surely, it just their names and their company’s–
There’s a bright flash of lightning followed immediately by a booming clap of thunder at the same time the lights in the ATM vestibule flicker and go out completely.
You fight the yelp that bubbles in your throat. The man in front of you seems to lose the fight against his reactions and lets out a tiny yip.
His shoulders come up and he seems to bristle like a cat.
“You’re kidding,” you mumble, looking up at the lights. It was almost pitch black inside now, save for the tiny emergency lights that kick on on either side of the glowing Exit sign.
The man lets out a grumble and a sigh.
You look over and see that the ATM has completely shut off. Figures.
The storm must’ve triggered some sort of power outage. Great. Now you’ll have to find some other ATM.
Why, oh why, did the restaurant that your boss wanted to take you to tomorrow morning have to be cash only?
Whatever, there should be a bank a few blocks from here.
Your heels click on the tile as you make your way to the door. When you grab the handle and pull, it doesn’t budge.
There’s a beat.
You try again, really putting your back into it this time.
“Am I stupid or what?” you whisper to yourself, trying the other door and pulling equally as hard.
“They’re not going to open,” the man behind you says. “The fail-safe locks probably kicked in once the power went out. It’s a security measure.”
You turn around and look at him with a blank look on your face. “Oh, ah, um… s-sorry, no… no Korean.”
The man blinks at you. “You don’t speak Korean?”
You blink right back at him. “Um…” All you can do is shake your head with wide eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you repeat.
Another series of blinks are exchanged.
“No… Korean?” he asks slowly. His English sounds so unsure.
You nod. “No… no Korean.”
A tiny, exasperated sigh comes from his lips and he looks around, as if anything inside this tiny little room would be able to help him communicate with you. Meanwhile, you turn back to the door and give it another sharp tug to no avail.
“No,” he says firmly, drawing your attention back to him. He motions down to the door handles and then shakes his head.
“No?” you repeat, a bit confused.
“No.”
Honestly, the primitive conversation between the two of you would be somewhat laughable if you didn’t feel frustrated beyond belief.
“Why?” you ask, becoming annoyed. Obviously, he knows something that you don’t.
The man blinks at you and shifts around nervously on his feet. His hands motion around as he tries to conjure up a sentence in English. “N… No. Closed?... Closed.” He nods, saying the word rather confidently.
Yes, you know the door is closed. But, why?
After a second, he sees that whatever he said evidently isn’t good enough, so he points back to the ATM, to the light that is now off due to no power, and then to the locks. You follow his pointing and the cogs in your brain start turning slowly.
“Fail-safe locks,” you state and then finally release the door handles.
“Fail… Fail-safe locks,” he repeats slowly. “Fail-safe locks.”
“Fail-safe locks?” you parrot his Korean back to him and he nods.
A small hum comes from your chest and you take a step back from the door finally. “How long do you think–” you cut yourself off when you look over at him. The man is staring at you, not following a word you’re saying.
Your hand comes up and you brush some wet hair off your forehead and then scratch the back of your head as a nervous tick. There’s no point in even asking the question, he won’t be able to understand anything you’re saying.
If you were in his shoes, you’d probably be a bit annoyed too. But at the same time, he’s already been kinder than most would be in this situation.
He’s locked in an ATM vestibule with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as him– in his own country. He’s been more than kind. Most people would just wave you off and forget trying to communicate at all.
But here he was, talking slowly and making sure you can understand what he’s saying. He’s going so far as to point around the room to make sure you understand.
The man notices you give up and he lets out a tiny sigh, turning to then peer out the glass doors at the streets of Seoul. There’s basically no one out there, everyone has taken shelter from the squall.
“We’ll have to wait until the police come to open the door.” He pats at his pockets, searching for his phone.
Even with how terrible your Korean is, you still pick up on a few words. “Police?” A beat. “Police?”
“Yes,” he answers in English, taking his phone out and tapping the screen a few times before holding it up to his ear. The man continues to look through the glass doors, watching all the different cars drive by, none of them police cars.
You decide to turn around, walking around the tiny room.
All of the lights are off except for the emergency lights. They cast a dull glow through the entirety of the vestibule. There's barely enough light to see from one side of the room to the other.
Rain starts hammering against the glass as the man speaks into his phone. “Yes, hi, hello. I am currently trapped with another woman inside the ATM vestibule of Metrobank Seoul… Namdaemunno… Yes, that one.”
Your ears perk up when he mentions the name of the bank and the address. Ah, he must have called the police. His face pulls into a slightly annoyed look, but he doesn’t speak with a hint of it through the phone, at least, not that you’re really able to tell.
The man says a few more words into the phone before he hangs up with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair and then down his face in an exasperated fashion before turning to look at you. His mouth opens to say something, but he thinks better of it and he grimaces even more.
Your own features pull into a sympathetic expression and you look away, slightly embarrassed. Should you have learned more of the language before coming here? Absolutely. But at the same time, you didn’t have much time to prepare once you were told you had to travel here for business.
He shuffles from foot to foot and looks around, shoving his hands in his pockets and desperately trying to remember every English class he took in school.
“Police…” he says slowly, thinking through every word he wants to try and say. “Police are… busy.”
“Busy?”
“Yes. Busy. Busy with… car…” He brings both of his hands together and claps and then makes an explosion noise with his hands.
“A car accident?”
He snaps his fingers and points to you, as if you’re a team during a game of charades.
“Car accident,” he says in Korean.
“Car accident,” you repeat and he nods.
Despite the reality of the situation, you smile. The humor in all of this does not escape you. You decide to try and meet him halfway, even with your butchered pronunciation.
“Police… time… long?” Your head cocks to the side and you point to your watch. He shakes his head and shrugs in exaggerated movements.
Scoffing, you roll your eyes. The accident was that bad, huh? No wonder the power went out then, the car must have smashed into electrical lines after that loud clap of thunder. This probably means all of the traffic lights and such are out too.
The police are most likely directing traffic and making sure no one gets injured; two idiots stranded in an ATM vestibule are the least of their concerns. Honestly, you can’t be in a safer place. Well, unless this guy is a murderer, but you haven’t gotten a harsh vibe yet.
You sigh and lean against the wall near the corner across from the ATM. Your body slides down to the floor and you stare straight ahead. It seems like you’re going to be in here for a while then.
The man takes one last look outside the doors before walking in your direction. He leans against the adjacent wall and takes a seat on the floor with you. His shoes almost touch the side of yours. It’s at this time that you let yourself take a moment to really look at him.
He has to be around your age; older than a college graduate but younger than someone settled into their career. Something that definitely doesn’t escape your attention is how… pretty he is. His skin is near perfect and so is his hair. Everything, down to the clothes he’s wearing, is absolutely flawless– and he’s only in sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie!
Next to him, especially in your current drowned rat state, you probably look like something worse than a hot mess. You quickly comb your hair off your forehead once more and pull at your soaking wet clothes sticking to your skin.
The man’s lips purse for a moment and he opens his mouth as if to say something, then promptly stops, opting for a grumble of frustration.
After a moment, an idea flickers through your mind and you hold up one finger to him to say ‘one moment’. You reach down into your pocket for your phone and take it out, tapping at a few screens and bringing up the Translate app.
‘What’s your name?’ you type into the phone and it immediately translates it into Korean below it. You turn your phone around and hold it up to him.
The man looks at you, then your phone, and his eyes light up. If you’re not mistaken, you even see a little bit of relief flash over his features. A tiny smirk pulls at one corner of his lips before he looks back at you.
“Minho,” he answers and motions to you.
“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, Minho.” You hold your hand out for a handshake.
Minho looks at your hand and his smirk gets wider before he grabs your hand and shakes it gently. The skin on his palm is so soft. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”
After shaking his hand, you bring your phone back up to your face and type another sentence into the translate app.
‘I’m very sorry for not knowing Korean, I’m here on business.’
Minho looks at your phone, reading the statement before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. He types away and then holds it up for you to read.
‘No need to apologize. With my line of work, my English should be better. It’s a very hard language to learn.’
A little laugh huffs from your nose and you nod and type.
‘Try learning Korean.’
Minho laughs with you and his smirk grows into a playful smile. Jesus Christ, this man is gorgeous. He looks down and taps a bit on his phone and then he holds it up to you. With the way his smirk pulls at his lips, it almost reminds you of a devious little cat.
‘I could tell you were a foreigner when you first came into the bank.’
Your eyebrow raises. “Oh, really?”
He’s chuckling when he brings his phone back to type more and then hold it up for you to read.
‘You don’t have an umbrella.’
Laughter leaves your lips when you read that and your head tilts back to rest against the wall. The wetness from your clothes is beginning to seep into your bones. Plus, the feeling of the fabric sticking to your skin is starting to become overstimulating.
But, you try and keep it together. You don’t really have another option at the moment.
You type a message back to Minho.
‘People tried to warn me about the Monsoon Season. As you can see, I didn’t listen.’
He reads your message and sucks his teeth with a smirk. Minho shakes his head and motions to the glass doors, as if to say ‘Look!’.
“I know, I know!” you laugh and look outside at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. Puddles have turned into small ravines flowing down the sides of the road. Any car that passes by creates a huge splash as they pass through them.
Every once in a while, the sky will light up and thunder will follow it quickly.
Minho laughs with you. “Next time… you listen.” He nudges your leg with his foot.
You look over at him. “I will, trust me.”
A long look is shared between the two of you. There’s this tiny nagging feeling at the back of your mind, it’s that same feeling you get when you see someone in public that you swear you’ve seen before. Maybe he just has one of those faces?
No, you definitely haven’t met him before. You would remember if he was someone you shook hands with in the last few days. A man that gorgeous would never slip under your radar, you’re certain.
Minho stares back at you, eyes flitting about at your soaking wet hair matting to your skin. It looks like his one hand twitches for a moment and then he shifts in his seat.
Back to the app.
The two of you type away on your phones and hold them up at the same time with the exact same question on them.
‘What do you do for work?’
‘What do you do for work?’
Again, the two of you let out little huffs of laughter and he motions to you as if to tell you to go first.
So you do, you type down on your phone a little answer for him.
‘Right now, I’m only the assistant to a CEO for a huge company. Wherever he goes, I go. I write all his contracts; everything he does goes through me first. I’m more of an administrator than an assistant, though.’
Minho reads your answer carefully and then types out a small response with a tiny crease in between his brows.
‘Why do you say ‘right now’?’
A sad smile spreads on your face as you look down at your phone to type out a response.
‘I studied hard and have a Mathematics degree. But no matter where I apply, they say I don’t have enough experience. Back in America, the job market is absolutely horrible. So, I’m stuck.’
Minho’s eyes scan through your message and a frown pulls at his lips. He looks back up at you, meeting your eyes and then back to your phone before he begins to type his own message.
Your silent communication warms your heart a little bit. The glow from his phone lights up his features and you study him carefully. His teeth poke out from his top lip– it’s absolutely adorable.
He seems to think for a long moment before his thumbs fly over his screen.
Rain is coming down in sheets outside the door, it’s the only other sound inside the room besides the light clicking of the haptics on his phone.
You reach back and once more run your fingers through your hair– it seems to be drying now, but not in a good way. The humidity of the rain is apparent in the way it's starting to frizz up.
Minho turns his phone around after a moment of typing.
‘I’ve heard about how hard it is to get a job in America, I’m very sorry it’s so unfair. For what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing wrong with the job you have now. Hard work is hard work no matter if it's an assistant or a scientist.’
His words strike a chord within your heart, they tug at your chest and at the corner of your lips which twitch into a wistful smile on your face.
“Thank you,” you say to him in Korean, looking directly into his eyes. Minho smiles back at you when he hears it.
“You are welcome,” he answers in English.
His smile seems so warm for a stranger. He looks at you as if you’re an old friend, not like a woman, still soaking wet from the rain, sitting on the floor with him inside an ATM vestibule. He’s so genuine.
After a few seconds of just looking at him, you bring your phone up to type once more.
‘Your turn. What do you do?’
Minho stares at your phone for a long time, seemingly reading the sentence over and over again. His bottom lip pulls between his teeth and he seems to weigh something in his mind.
His brown eyes flick to yours, then back to the phone, then back to you again before he looks down at his phone.
You never realized how much just body language alone can convey.
He types slower, his thumbs not moving as quickly as before. Why does he seem so apprehensive?
Eventually, he turns the phone around.
‘I’m an idol.’
“Oh,” you say softly. Your shoulders shrug a bit and you cock your head to the side. “Like a K-pop idol?”
Minho nods in response. “Stray Kids.”
The name rings a bell, it’s just one you’ve heard floating around for a few months now. You think one of your friends is into them, but you can’t remember. She’s into so many different groups, it’s hard to keep track anymore.
You type in your phone.
‘I’ve heard the name before. Weren’t you guys at the MET Gala?’
With a breathy chuckle, he nods. A smile spreads across your face.
‘Wow, I’m trapped in a room with a celebrity then. You know, people write stories like this.’
Your joke definitely lands because he snorts a huff of laughter as you type on your phone a little bit more after that.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t take pictures and post them all over Twitter or anything. This will just be a funny story for me to tell my friends when I get back home to America.’
“Thank you,” Minho says softly with genuine gratitude in his voice. God, you can’t even imagine what it’s like being an idol. There probably wasn’t a single place he felt safe going to anymore. There are always cameras just waiting to take his picture.
‘When do you go back to America?’
‘In a few days. My boss loves to extend his business trips at the last minute. So, I could be here three more days or seven more days. It’s very hard to pack to come on these trips.’
A bittersweet expression settles on his handsome face.
You think for a long moment before typing away at your phone and showing it to him.
‘Have you ever been to New Jersey? That’s the state I’m from.’
Minho’s lips purse as he thinks for a long few moments. Very slowly, he nods, almost unsure. He types in his phone, then thinks for a moment, then types again.
‘I think we’ve been there twice. Is Newark in New Jersey?’
Excitedly, you nod. “Yes, that’s up in North Jersey!” You’re so excited that you forget to type down on your phone. “Oh!” you say with a laugh, looking back down at your phone.
‘Yes, that’s in the northern part of the state, about an hour or so from my hometown. I grew up in the central region, right on the beach. It only takes ten minutes to get to the beach from my house.’
Minho’s smile widens and he looks at you with a slightly envious look in his eyes. You giggle in response.
‘Two other members love the beach, but they’re from Australia.’
‘Australian beaches are probably not that different from American beaches. But I’ve never been to Australia. Have you?’
Minho nods and you see him close his translation app and switch over to his camera roll. His fingers quickly begin scrolling up through the countless amount of photos he has on his phone.
Not wanting to invade his privacy, you look away from his phone and out the doors in the vestibule once more. Not a single soul is walking– or running– along the sidewalks anymore.
Due to the power outage, there’s not even street lights illuminating in the puddles, it’s almost eerie looking. But, surprisingly, you don’t feel uneasy at all. Especially not with Minho sitting at your side.
Said man hums to get your attention, shuffling closer to you, and you look down at his phone. The picture is absolutely gorgeous.
It’s a photo of the beach, you’re assuming in Australia. The red sun is peeking above the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful wash of reds, pinks, and purples, all of the colors melting into one another. The clouds are wispy and glow in the morning sun.
The ocean seems so beautifully blue, even the foam at the crash of the waves is beautiful.
In front of the ocean is a gaggle of boys, it looks like there’s about seven of them. Each of them have bright, beautiful smiles on their faces reaching their eyes.
You’ve never been able to feel joy radiating from a photo like this, it seems to be contagious since you find a smile pulling at your own lips.
“This photo is beautiful,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of it.
Minho hums, maybe he understood what you said. His thumb moves and he scrolls to the next picture where two of the boys have taken one of the others by his legs and arms and seem to be pretending to toss him into the surf.
A soft giggle comes from your lips and you find yourself leaning towards him a bit to get a better look at the photo. Truly, you didn’t even notice your shoulders brushing against each other, and by his lack of reaction, it seems Minho didn’t either.
“Friends?” you ask him in your choppy Korean.
Minho looks over at you, his face closer to you than before. His eyes widen a bit at your proximity, but he doesn’t back up at all.
“Family,” he corrects you in his soft English.
An even warmer feeling spreads through your chest and you look back down at the photo. They must be his band members, but they just look so much closer than that. It reminds you of all of your friends back home.
Before you can even think twice, you’re opening your own camera roll, scrolling through an endless sea of memories before finding one specific morning you woke up to go watch the sunrise on the beach.
A tiny, awe-struck noise comes from Minho when he looks down at it.
“Sunrise,” you say and then think for a moment. You’re not sure of the Korean you want to say. “Favorite… time.”
He’s so patient when you speak, it absolutely melts your heart. There’s a different air about his softness with you too. He’s not treating you like a child just learning how to speak, no, he’s just being… nice. He’s being sweet and genuine and it speaks volumes about his character.
“Sunrise,” he says in Korean.
“Sunrise,” you repeat, looking up at him. His eyes were already trained on your face by the time you looked up. A tiny dusting of pink covers your cheeks. How long has he been looking at you?
A happy smile spreads over his lips, the edges curl up playfully. He nods. “Sunrise. Sunrise.”
“Sunrise.” Your voice says softly once more before looking back down at your phone.
Swiping through a few more pictures, you show him the boardwalk that runs down the beaches by your house. Everything from shops, to amusement park rides, to lemonade and ice cream stands litter the entirety of the shore.
He points down at the ferris wheel and shakes his head. “No,” he says simply.
“No?” you ask with a laugh. “Why not?”
“No… no high,” he shakes his head and motions his hands around to emphasize his point.
“Best picture,” you giggle holding your hand up in the air to emphasize the height aspect, then you’re swiping to the next picture taken from the top of the ferris wheel. This time, it was sunset. “Sunset.”
“Sunset.” A pause. “My… My… favorite time.”
A soft hum bubbles up in your throat. He loves sunset whereas you love sunrise. How cute.
“Sunset is beautiful,” you say slowly. Your eyes are still on your phone when you swipe to another photo.
“Beautiful,” Minho whispers softly.
Humming, you nod. “Yes, beautiful.”
A soft puff of air comes out of his nose and fans out over your cheek. When did he get this close? You look up at him and almost bump his nose with yours.
Minho’s head flinches back a bit at your sudden movement, but he makes no move to get further away from you.
He sighs softly, his eyes flitting all over your face, taking in every one of your features. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.
Your eyes widen, that pink blush making its way back to your face. You can’t even help the tiny, giddy giggle that bubbles in your throat. You look down shyly, biting your bottom lip.
Tender, gentle fingers lift your chin back up. Truly, you didn’t notice how cold your skin was until his warm touch spread on your skin.
Is this really happening?
A shiver races down your spine and a soft shudder comes out of your lips. Minho’s eyes look down at your lips and then down at your arm where goosebumps begin to raise.
He pulls away gently, making your brows furrow. Did you do something wrong? Maybe you misread his–
He’s shrugging off his hoodie.
Oh, he thinks you're cold.
Before you can even think to tell him you’re okay, he’s pulling your shoulder forward a bit so he can drape it over your back, bundling you up in such a pleasant, soft warmth. With small, fussy movements, he’s closing the hoodie around your body.
Perhaps you didn’t even notice how cold you were until you were suddenly surrounded in a warmth that can be compared to the fuzziest blanket you own. Not to mention the absolutely delightful scent that wafts upwards into your nose from the fabric.
It’s such a clean, cozy, calming scent. It’s like you buried your nose into the Mahogany Teakwood candle at Bath and Body Works.
Your eyes stay trained on his face while he bundles you up tightly. His hands gently grab your arms and rub up and down a few times to create even more warmth.
“Better,” he murmurs, finally looking up to meet your eyes.
How is it that a stranger has wormed himself into your heart like this? His tender gaze makes your soul feel calm, like those pictures of the morning surf under the sunrise.
“Thank you,” you whisper back to him. Your hands come up to grab at the hoodie, curling into the fabric.
Minho smiles back at you, you can see how his smile grows as he watches you relax into his clothing. There’s no space between your shoulders as you rest against adjacent walls, your two bodies have melted into the corner.
There’s a clap of thunder outside, but neither of you move. Your feet shuffle on the floor as you bring your knees closer to your chest. His legs adjust around yours, feeding them under your bent knees and tangling your limbs up further.
It’s so hard to break Minho’s eye contact, but you do it slowly, looking down at your phone and opening up the translate app once more. His soft breathing hits your cheek with every exhale.
‘You’re too nice to a stranger.’
Minho hums, almost in agreement. He picks up his phone and types back.
‘I’m usually not.’
You read the statement and then look at him, your head cocked to the side. Your brows furrow in confusion, but he types more before you can even ask another question.
‘I don’t know why I feel drawn to you.’
The text looks right back at you. Your heart flutters in your chest and you know that your cheeks get redder and redder by the second. Still, you can’t contain the giddy laugh that makes its way past your lips.
You bite the inside of your cheek to try and hide the smile, but it only makes Minho smile wider. His hand slowly comes up towards your cheek. Right before he’s able to make contact, he stops, hovering over your skin and gazing into your eyes.
A silent question is asked through his eyes. It’s a language that you don’t need any sort of app for. An answer is communicated right back.
Soft, tender warmth spreads over your cheek, radiating all throughout your body in the most gentle glow. His thumb caresses over your cheek bone, swiping gentle strokes back and forth.
You feel the same as him, that’s the strange part. There’s something so alluring about him that you just can’t put your finger on it. He’s pulling you in like a magnet and you don’t even want to fight against it.
There’s so many words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you know that each and every one of them would fall on deaf ears. Nothing that you can say in the moment would make sense to him.
Exhales are shared and mingled together in the minimal space between your faces,
“Beautiful,” he whispers for your ears only. Not like there’s anyone else to hear it except the ATM sitting dormant in the corner of the vestibule. Not even the mice in the walls would have been able to hear his murmur.
Love at first sight was something you always gawked and scoffed at. You always thought that it was such a Hallmark invention, that there was no way you would be able to just look at someone once and immediately fall head over heels for them.
But here you were, sitting on a dirty floor, feeling your heart beating faster and faster in your chest. Letting your face be cradled by a man you didn’t know two hours ago. By the man who patiently worked with you to communicate.
How is this even possible?
You can count on one hand the amount of things you know about one another.
Minho, who is a famous idol in Korea, who loves sunset and hates heights, who has the most expressive brown eyes you’ve ever seen.
Minho, who did whatever he could just to talk to you when he could have just as easily sat in silence on the other side of the vestibule.
His hand slowly drags down your cheek, each finger gliding down your skin towards your jawline to lift under your chin.
Another silent question passes through both of you in the one language you seem to both be fluent in.
Your eyes flick down to his lips and he hears you loud and clear.
Minho leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight touch. But, despite how soft the kiss is, heat spreads through your body in a grand wave, rushing through your fingertips and into your toes.
The first press is long and sweet, the two of you simply melting into the sensation of being locked together.
He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes gazing down at your lips before he swoops in again, this time his movements a bit quicker.
His hand returns to your cheek, guiding your head to tilt to the side to gain better access to your lips.
A soft sigh leaves your nose and your own hand travels up to grab at his shirt gently, just needing to hold onto him in any way possible.
Minho responds to your sigh, his lips moving a bit faster against yours. Both of your lips part and close, moving like mirror images of one another. Every few kisses, your noses brush against one another, but it doesn’t deter you from your actions at all.
Slowly, your hand travels from his shirt up to his neck, running up the side of his flushed skin. He feels feverish to the touch and it only spurs you on to keep moving. At the contact on his own body, Minho lets out a tiny grunt against your lips, his kisses stutter for a moment but he’s back to kissing you after just a moment.
Up, up, up, your hand travels over his moving jaw, to his cheek, then moving back to thread in his soft, brown trusses of hair. God, everything about him is just so perfect. It’s like you’re combing your fingers through the softest of cotton.
His kisses are getting deeper, little sighs come from both of your mouths as the passion continues on. Minho’s body turns towards yours a bit more, his knees canting up and almost forcing your legs onto his lap.
Tentatively, you feel his tongue poke out from between his lips, licking gently at your lower lip. You don’t even hesitate to give him access to your mouth. A gentle moan claws its way up your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth.
The hand on your cheek grips you a bit tighter, holding your face to his– as if you would want to try and move away from Minho and his addicting kisses.
“I just can’t help it,” he whispers in Korean against your spit, soaked lips before capturing them once more. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”
All you catch is your name and it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t even need to know what else he said, his tone says it all. The way it comes out in a breathy exhale is enough to send your mind reeling.
“Please,” you murmur into his mouth before he presses his lips to yours once more with the same amount of passion and need in his actions.
More and more rain hits the glass doors, becoming the only sound that can be heard in the room except for your shared exhales, pants, and breathy moans.
Slowly, the kisses begin to calm down. Minho pulls away for a moment to take a long breath. His thumb moves to brush against your lower lip like a butterfly landing on a flower.
His eyes open just a crack, gazing down at your mouth with a hazy look in his eye. As he slowly catches his breath, he presses his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing along the heated skin on your face.
“Forgive me, I didn’t do things in order,” he whispers. “I should’ve taken you out first.”
Your eyes open and you look at him in confusion. “Hm?”
His jaw clenches before he swallows and he takes another long moment to look over your face, his features soft and welcoming.
There’s some movement as his other hand blindly pats around his lap for his phone. He can’t physically tear himself away from you long enough to even look down.
Another tiny laugh comes from your lips.
Your fingers move out of his hair to come around and gently run over his features, brushing against his jawline, to then trace up to his lips and up the length of his nose, memorizing each and every detail.
Minho melts into your touch, his face moving closer to your touch, seeking you out.
His hand finally finds his phone and he grabs it blindly, flipping it around in his lap and tearing his gaze away from your face to glance down at it.
Thumbs are flying across the screen to type at his translate app. He’s typing so quickly on his phone that you can't help but laugh a bit.
Before he’s able to turn the phone around, there are a few sharp knocks against the glass of the vestibule. The two of you practically jump out of your skin and your heads whip over to the doors.
Red and blue lights are flashing outside and it looks like two police officers are standing outside, peering in at you both. They wave when they see they’ve caught your attention.
Minho looks at the police officers, then to you, then back to the officers, and then back to you once more. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he tries to form a few words but you’re untangling your limbs from one another.
In a moment, you’re both on your feet as the officers work on unlocking the doors from the outside.
Minho gently grabs at your arm and you look down where he’s touching and your heart sinks a little. His eyes look a little questioning and desperate.
“Oh,” you say sadly. You shrug off his jacket, and hand it back to him. Minho’s eyebrows pull together and his lips part. He looks down at the jacket and then up at you.
“No,” he says firmly.
“Are you two alright?” The police officer calls inside in Korean.
“We’re okay,” Minho responds without breaking eye contact with you. He puts a hand on his jacket still dangling over your arm and pushes it back towards you.
“Minho?” you ask, looking at him and then at the officer approaching you both.
“We apologize for the delay, but we knew you two were safe, so we had to prioritize,” the officer says.
You blink at him blankly for a moment before then looking back at Minho.
“She’s a foreigner,” he says to the officer, finally looking away from you. “She doesn’t know Korean.”
“Ah,” the officer responds. “My apologies. You can tell her that she’s free to go.” He nods at the two of you and motions towards the door. You take his hint and slowly begin follow him.
Once again, Minho tugs on your arm and you pause, turning around to look at him. He’s holding his phone up to your face with a pleading look in his eye.
‘Can I please buy you a drink?’
A wide smile spreads across your cheeks and you can’t deny the relief that you feel inside your chest. The moment your lips twitch upwards, Minho immediately mirrors it.
“Yes,” you respond. “I love to go.”
He chuckles at your choppy Korean once more before taking his jacket out of your hands and wrapping you inside it once more. This time, he grabs the hood and pulls it up over your head.
With a satisfied hum, he nods and laces your fingers together.
“Come,” he says confidently.
“Lead way.”
#Lee know x reader#Lee Minho x reader#Skz x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#Lee know x y/n#Lee Minho x y/n#lee know reader insert#Skz x y/n#Lee know fluff#Skz fluff
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Babysitter - Part 1
Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.7k
cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink
Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.
Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.
You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.
It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth.
Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?”
You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”
He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”
Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”
You smile at her. “It’s okay.”
She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”
He scratches his head. “Huh?”
“Megumi. Our child.”
He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.”
While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”
She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”
She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”
Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Sure.”
“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”
“Huh?!”
She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”
You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…
~~~
The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy.
Toji, on the other hand, is another story.
You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you.
But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?
On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas.
When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”
“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby.
He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”
“Yes, of course. Sir.”
For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”
You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence.
Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”
You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”
He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”
You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”
“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”
~~~
This is bad. Very, very bad.
You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.
“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.
“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”
You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”
His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time.
After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with.
He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho.
“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.”
And apparently, so are you.
“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”
He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.
Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job.
~~~
You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working.
The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.”
“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen.
“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”
As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking.
#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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By Bernie Sanders | July 13, 2024
I will do all that I can to see that President Biden is re-elected. Why? Despite my disagreements with him on particular issues, he has been the most effective president in the modern history of our country and is the strongest candidate to defeat Donald Trump — a demagogue and pathological liar. It’s time to learn a lesson from the progressive and centrist forces in France who, despite profound political differences, came together this week to soundly defeat right-wing extremism.
I strongly disagree with Mr. Biden on the question of U.S. support for Israel’s horrific war against the Palestinian people. The United States should not provide Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing extremist government with another nickel as it continues to create one of the worst humanitarian disasters in modern history.
I strongly disagree with the president’s belief that the Affordable Care Act, as useful as it has been, will ever address America’s health care crisis. Our health care system is broken, dysfunctional and wildly expensive and needs to be replaced with a “Medicare for all” single-payer system. Health care is a human right.
And those are not my only disagreements with Mr. Biden.
But for over two weeks now, the corporate media has obsessively focused on the June presidential debate and the cognitive capabilities of a man who has, perhaps, the most difficult and stressful job in the world. The media has frantically searched for every living human being who no longer supports the president or any neurologist who wants to appear on TV. Unfortunately, too many Democrats have joined that circular firing squad.
Yes. I know: Mr. Biden is old, is prone to gaffes, walks stiffly and had a disastrous debate with Mr. Trump. But this I also know: A presidential election is not an entertainment contest. It does not begin or end with a 90-minute debate.
Enough! Mr. Biden may not be the ideal candidate, but he will be the candidate and should be the candidate. And with an effective campaign taht speaks to the needs of working families, he will not only defeat Mr. Trump but beat him badly. It’s time for Democrats to stop the bickering and nit-picking.
I understand that some Democrats get nervous about having to explain the president’s gaffes and misspeaking names. But unlike the Republicans, they do not have to explain away a candidate who now has 34 felony convictions and faces charges that could lead to dozens of additional convictions, who has been hit with a $5 million judgment after he was found liable in a sexual abuse case, who has been involved in more than 4,000 lawsuits, who has repeatedly gone bankrupt and who has told thousands of documented lies and falsehoods.
Supporters of Mr. Biden can speak proudly about a good and decent Democratic president with a record of real accomplishment. The Biden administration, as a result of the American Rescue Plan, helped rebuild the economy during the pandemic far faster than economists thought possible. At a time when people were terrified about the future, the president and those of us who supported him in Congress put Americans back to work, provided cash benefits to desperate parents and protected small businesses, hospitals, schools and child care centers.
After decades of talk about our crumbling roads, bridges and water systems, we put more money into rebuilding America’s infrastructure than ever before — which is projected to create millions of well-paying jobs. And we did not stop there. We made the largest-ever investment in climate action to save the planet. We canceled student debt for nearly five million financially strapped Americans. We cut prices for insulin and asthma inhalers, capped out-of-pocket costs for prescription drugs and got free vaccines to the American people. We battled to defend women’s rights in the face of moves by Trump-appointed jurists to roll back reproductive freedom and deny women the right to control their own bodies.
So, yes, Mr. Biden has a record to run on. A strong record. But he and his supporters should never suggest that what’s been accomplished is sufficient. To win the election, the president must do more than just defend his excellent record. He needs to propose and fight for a bold agenda that speaks to the needs of the vast majority of our people — the working families of this country, the people who have been left behind for far too long.
At a time when the billionaires have never had it so good and when the United States is experiencing virtually unprecedented income and wealth inequality, over 60 percent of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, real weekly wages for the average worker have not risen in over 50 years, 25 percent of seniors live each year on $15,000 or less, we have a higher rate of childhood poverty than almost any other major country, and housing is becoming more and more unaffordable — among other crises.
This is the wealthiest country in the history of the world. We can do better. We must do better. Joe Biden knows that. Donald Trump does not. Joe Biden wants to tax the rich so that we can fund the needs of working families, the elderly, the children, the sick and the poor. Donald Trump wants to cut taxes for the billionaire class. Joe Biden wants to expand Social Security benefits. Donald Trump and his friends want to weaken Social Security. Joe Biden wants to make it easier for workers to form unions and collectively bargain for better wages and benefits. Donald Trump wants to let multinational corporations get away with exploiting workers and ripping off consumers. Joe Biden respects democracy. Donald Trump attacks it.
This election offers a stark choice on issue after issue. If Mr. Biden and his supporters focus on these issues — and refuse to be divided and distracted — the president will rally working families to his side in the industrial Midwest swing states and elsewhere and win the November election. And let me say this as emphatically as I can: For the sake of our kids and future generations, he must win.
Bernie Sanders is the senior senator from Vermont.
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