#Class A Truck Driving Jobs

[cdldriverrecruiter]

Warehouse Managers & HR Leaders: It’s Time to Rethink Your CDL Driver Hiring Strategy

If you’re struggling to hire CDL truck drivers, it might not be the market—it’s your process. Instead of blaming external factors, ask yourself: Are you treating driver recruitment like a numbers game of collecting resumes, or like closing a sale?

The top-performing companies know that every driver inquiry is a golden opportunity.

They understand that:

Every Lead Counts:

Whether a lead seems good or bad at first glance, treat it as valuable.

Persistence Pays Off:

Sometimes it takes 10-15 touchpoints—a call, an email, a follow-up—to get a response. If you’re giving up after one try, you’re missing out.

It’s All About the Pitch:If your team keeps saying “we can’t find drivers,” what you’re really saying is, “We don’t know how to sell our company.”

Successful companies don’t stagnate with half-hearted blame. They shift, adapt, and evolve—owning every part of their strategy. They view hiring as closing a sale, not merely collecting applications.

Ready to turn your hiring process around? At ClassATransport.com, we’ve built a system designed to transform your recruitment efforts into a powerful, conversion-focused strategy. Don’t let your competitors get ahead because you’re stuck in old habits.

*Treat every lead like GOLD.

*Embrace multiple touchpoints.

*Own your strategy.

If you recognize the problem, you have the power to fix it. DM us at ClassATransport.com and let’s revolutionize your hiring process—before your competitors do.

#Hiring #Recruitment #CDLDrivers #Logistics #Transportation #HR #ClassATransport

[punjabtruckdriving-school]

MAJOR PERKS OF HAVING A TRUCKS DRIVING CAREER

Explore the extraordinary benefits of a fulfilling Truck Driving Career at Punjab Truck Driving School. Uncover lucrative opportunities in high-demand Truck Driving Jobs, complemented by comprehensive and expert-led Class A CDL Training. Gear up for success on the road and chart a prosperous path towards a rewarding professional journey.

[sinner-as-saint]

here forever

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Run-through: Dating a superhero was no joke. And as noble as Bucky’s job was, it was just as dangerous and unpredictable. Which is why ever since you and Bucky started dating, he’d been training you in his free time. Teaching you how to defend yourself if ever he wasn’t around to protect you, or if ever his enemies came after you. Although you weren’t perfect at combat yet, you were almost certain you could get out of a tricky situation if you ever found yourself in one. But you were soon proven wrong. And your only option was to hope and pray that Bucky finds you in time. 

Themes: smut, fluff, mentions of kidnapping and death, boyfriend!bucky to the rescue, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mean!dom!bucky, aftercare, biker!bucky (except i made him wear a helmet because safety), mild daddy kink (nicknames only)

a/n: short, quick lil fic because I know we’re all hungry

It had been two hours since these strange men had so easily abducted you off the streets. 

It was a regular day, you were leaving yoga class and were on your way to pick up a smoothie. A treat you always got yourself after each workout class. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except Bucky’s incessant messages asking about your location. 

You knew you weren’t supposed to let your guard down, not even on busy streets – one of the first lessons Bucky taught you just weeks after your first date with him. But you couldn’t help looking down and frowning at your phone. Your bag, purse and phone in your hands. Always have your hands free when walking alone, even on busy streets – the second thing he taught you. 

Always be ready. Always be ready. Always be fucking ready. 

But you had messed up that morning. Bucky’s messages were starting to worry you. He had been away since last night, and as usual, never gave you too many details about his job. But all you knew was that before he left, he’d asked you to try and not go out if you could. Your apartment was safe. He had eyes all over that building. Cameras, security guards, it was the safest place you could be. 

‘Where are you? Why aren’t you home?’

Seconds later: 

‘I told you not to go out. It’s not safe right now. Call me.’ 

Then some missed calls which you couldn’t answer because you were in class at the time. Then messages one after the other: 

‘Go straight home.’ 

‘Is your class over?’ 

‘Go home and wait for me. Don’t open the door for anyone else.’ 

‘Baby I’m so serious right now, go home.’ 

And you were midway through typing an answer to reply to him. To tell him not to worry. To tell him that yes your class was over, and everything was okay and you would call him as soon as you got home. 

But you never got the chance to reply to his messages. 

It all happened too fast. One moment you were looking down, all your focus on your phone and boyfriend, and the next, you were being grabbed and shoved into a dark truck. You barely even got a scream out before the doors were shut and a tape sealed your mouth, ropes snaking around your wrists and ankles. 

And just like that, in less than a full minute, you were taken. 

And here you were now. 

In the back of that same truck which had been driving for about two hours, maybe more. Getting further and further away from the city you lived in, and into more and more unknown areas. 

Fuck! You had messed up. 

You should’ve checked your phone while you were still inside the building. You shouldn’t have been texting on the streets. You shouldn’t have let your guard down. Bucky had been saying for weeks that he suspected people had eyes on him, and consequently you because you two spent a lot of time together. 

He was right of course. He always was. You should’ve listened. You should’ve stayed at home, at least until he got back later today. 

A tear slid down your face, like it had been for the past hours. You silently cried, thinking about all the potential circumstances you could end up finding yourself in. You couldn’t even tell who were the men who kidnapped you because they all wore masks and hadn’t said a single word in the past hours. 

They were armed. And the truck seemed bulletproof. And they kept driving. Nothing said about wanting a ransom, nothing about why they had taken you, or whether they were using you as bait to get Bucky’s attention. Surely they were. 

And a few minutes later, when you heard the familiar roar of a familiar bike, you knew they had his full attention. 

Bucky was here. 

But they hadn’t noticed yet. And you didn’t want them to. So you tried to get all their attention on you by wiggling in the backseat, acting like you were trying to get more comfortable. The two armed men right in front of you just glanced at you and your tied limbs and let you be. 

You noticed the guy in the passenger seat didn’t even bother looking at you. The driver looked into the rearview mirror but quickly looked away and ahead. 

They still hadn’t heard the faint, steady roar of Bucky’s bike. 

Perfect. 

By the time Bucky would get close enough to attack, he would catch them by surprise. And it would be too late for them to react and defend themselves. 

So you kept moving, grunting in annoyance extra loudly just to mask the sound of Bucky’s bike as it got closer and closer– 

A loud gunshot exploded near you. For a moment nothing made sense. 

Then you realised the truck was no longer steady, it was tilted on one side. Bucky had shot one or more of the tires. You sighed in relief, while the men in the vehicle panicked. Muffled voices spoke all at once, one of them telling the driver to drive faster. 

Another, one of the men who was armed in front of you, lowered the window and popped his head and gun out, trying to find whoever was around but it was too late. 

You turned your head and managed to catch a glimpse of him through the rear windshield. Amongst the smoke and dirt flying, there he was. Mounted on his mean bike like a fierce general riding his beast into battle. Except this general wasn’t backed by soldiers. He was alone. 

But army or not, he was still Bucky Barnes. All black bike, black helmet, full biker gear, metal arm catching the sunlight. Guns strapped to his body. He looked like Death. 

A sob shook your body as you ducked and hid under the seats as much as you could as Bucky rain down bullets like hellfire upon the vehicle. He knew it was bulletproof, but you were certain he was doing it just to get the men to use their weapons and waste their bullets on him as fast as possible. 

The loud noises made it seem like your brain was vibrating, your heart was racing, and your ears were hurting with how loud the guns and shouts were. But Bucky was here, and all would be well now. 

A few seconds later, the truck began zig-zagging. You assumed it must be because the driver got shot. More shouts and bullets later, the truck came to a sudden stop. Like it collided with something that was strong enough to stop it even at that speed. 

But there was nothing on the empty streets you had been on. Nothing except… Bucky. 

An eerie silence followed. Then footsteps. The men in the truck had all been shot you realised upon smelling the scent of blood and gunpowder. 

You couldn’t get yourself up, not with your limbs still tied but you tried your best. And you were barely up when you heard the sound of metal literally tearing apart. You managed to peek from the back seat and Bucky had torn off one of the doors. The entire door off the side of the truck. 

You couldn’t call for him, but you kicked the back of one of the seats hard enough to get his attention. 

The moment his ocean blue eyes met your teary ones, you couldn’t help but start crying. Hot, burning tears streaming down your face as Bucky almost tore apart the entire truck to get to you. The moment he grabbed you and pulled you out into the open air, it was only his arm around you keeping you up. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispered over and over again, “You’re safe. I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.” He repeated continuously as he carefully peeled the tape off your lips and cupped your face in his hands, looking at you intently to look for injuries while he wiped your tears away. “Are you hurt?” He asked, looking more panicked and worried than ever. “Baby, answer me. Did they hurt you? Inject you with anything? Touch you?” 

You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to just be able to take a deep breath, now safe in his arms. Only when you went to wrap your shaky arms around him, he stopped you. Keeping you at arms’ length and away from him. 

That worried, soft look in his eyes turned cold. Even under the afternoon sun, you shivered under his gaze. 

“What the fuck did I tell you before I left, huh?” He snarled. “I told you to stay inside, don’t leave the building. Didn’t I say that?” 

You sniffled, nodding. “I just went to my weekly class, and–,” 

He cut you off, hissing, “And look what happened!” He was almost screaming in your face, “You’re so lucky I got here in time. You’re so fucking lucky I have a tracker in that bag of yours. Otherwise it would’ve taken me days to get to you! Days!” 

You trembled, knowing he was right. Bucky dealt with dangerous people. He knew why he asked you to be cautious. 

Bucky leaned closer to you, looking down at you with no warmth. “These aren’t the villains you read about in your silly, little fucking books.” His voice sounded menacing, freezing. “These are actual, dangerous people. They wouldn’t have waited for you to charm your way out. They would’ve killed you!” He yelled. 

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed. “I was replying to your texts and–,” 

“We had a deal, didn’t we?” He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him. “That when I tell you it’s not safe out there, you stay put. You stay inside and wait for me.” He growled. “You could’ve been killed today! And who would have had to live with that, huh? Who would’ve had to live with the disappointment that he couldn’t keep you safe? That he brought you into this shitty life and couldn’t even keep you alive?” He bellowed. “Who would’ve had to look your family in the eyes and tell them he lost you? Me! That’s who!” 

More tears, and a whimper escaped your lips. “I’m sorry.” You whispered. You had never seen this side of him. He let go of your face like it burned to touch you. 

He looked around, at the torn apart truck. At the bodies. The bullets on the ground. He grimaced but didn’t say anything. He reached into the truck and grabbed your things. Your bag and all that you had on you when you were taken. Your phone wasn’t here though, they must’ve thrown it out onto the streets while they took you. 

Bucky said, “We need to get out of here. Come.” 

He didn’t turn around to see if you were following, he knew you would. Once he got on his bike, he handed you his jacket and helmet. You put both on without questioning where you were going. 

Once sat behind him, your arms hesitantly around his torso, he turned to the side and said, “City’s not safe right now. We’ll spend the night at a motel nearby.” 

And that was all he said for the next few hours. 

– 

By the time you two made it to the motel – which was much, much more decent and clean than you had imagined – the sun was already setting. The place was quiet. A few voices conversing here and there, ACs humming as ACs do, cars coming in and out frequently given there was a gas station nearby, and a burger joint on the other side of the street. 

Bucky got you two a room for the night, and didn’t say a word to you as he grabbed your hand and led you to the room. 

It was a decent room. Bed, bedside tables, TV, sofas. The usual. 

You didn’t notice Bucky had packed a bag as well. You hadn’t been paying much attention anyway. He placed his much bigger bag on the bed and pulled out a few things. Some belonging to you, you noticed. Toothbrush, soaps, clean clothes. 

He handed a bunch of things to you and said, “Go shower.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke. Guess he was still angry at you. 

You didn’t argue. You just took the things and rushed to the bathroom, locking yourself in there for a good half an hour. 

When you stepped out of the shower, feeling clean finally, you noticed Bucky wasn’t in the room. And the weather outside had changed. You could hear the faint thunder approaching. Surely by tonight there would be a storm. 

But where had Bucky gone? 

You put your clothes away in your bag, and with no phone you had no choice but to turn the TV on. You got in bed, a few minutes into watching some random documentary when Bucky walked in with food. 

You gave him a look, wondering if he would talk to you now. But all he said as he placed the bags filled with food on the bed was, “It’s none of your fancy green smoothies and healthy wraps, but it’ll have to do for now. I’m going to shower.” 

Then he disappeared. 

You were still upset, but then hunger took over and you pawed at the bags like a raccoon. You found milkshakes, fries, and burgers. And you ate while you wondered how long Bucky would keep being angry at you. 

You were halfway through your second burger when Bucky walked out of the shower. With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His wet, dark hair pushed back, droplets of water still dripping down his chest and abs. 

You swallowed your food before you choked, then looked away, acting as if the documentary on the TV was much more interesting to look at compared to your half naked boyfriend. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, and you noticed he was carrying a first-aid kit in his hands. 

You shook your head. 

“Nothing? No scratches, nothing?” He asked again. 

You shrugged, “Just a small cut. It’ll heal. Nothing serious.” 

He walked over to your side of the bed, and said, “Show me.” 

You didn’t want to argue so you placed your food aside, lifted your shirt and showed him the minuscule cut on your ribs. “It’s not–,” 

But he cut you off by placing the kit down and looking for some cotton and disinfectant. 

It burned as he cleaned in and put a little bandaid over it. It hurt even more when he didn’t kiss it after like he usually does whenever he tends to your cuts and wounds. 

You didn’t say a word though. And soon, you both finished your food in silence with only the TV and the approaching storm as noise in the background. 

The thunder got louder and louder as you both got into bed. That weird silent treatment continued, and by now you were annoyed as well. You’d admit, it was your fault for being so careless when he’d told you to be cautious. But didn’t he see that you needed him now? 

Couldn’t he see you wanted to be held? And kissed? And comforted? 

You frowned in the dark. The lights from outside came through the blinds and lit the room up a little bit. As did the lightning. You were the only one tossing and turning you noticed, Bucky was asleep it seemed. 

But the thunder, the new bed, the fear and stress from earlier, it was all keeping you from falling asleep. Plus, it was a little embarrassing to admit, but you liked being held while you fell asleep. But Bucky wasn’t even talking to you, and wrapping your own arms around yourself wasn’t working. 

Another hour went by. Now the heavy rain finally came, along with a proper thunder storm. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You turned to face Bucky and he had his eyes shut, facing you. Not a single item of clothing on his body, except for a thin sheet covering him from the waist down. You sighed, frowning a little in annoyance still but you couldn’t help but scoot closer to him, seeking his warmth and embrace. 

First you pressed into him, to see if he would stir or wake up. He didn’t. So you got bolder and took his metal arm and placed it around you, waiting again. He didn’t move. So you went to wrap your arms around him, and once you did, you heard his sleepy voice saying, “Oh, what’s this? Now you need me?” 

You froze, trying to see if you could pretend you were asleep already. He didn’t buy it. 

“I know you’re awake.” 

You sighed. “It’s the thunder.” You said, nuzzling his warm neck. 

“And you need daddy to protect you now, little bunny?” He mocked. “But when I try to tell you what to do to keep you safe you never listen.” 

You noticed he kept his arm around you, pulling you more into him even as he chided you. “I’m so sorry, Buck. It won’t happen again.” 

He hummed. “It better not.” 

You were quiet for a second or two, then said, “You were so mean to me earlier.” 

“I have to be.” He said sternly. “You never listen. You don’t take your training seriously, you think you’re ready to fight your way out, baby, but you’re not. All I asked you to do was not to leave that apartment until I got there. But you couldn’t help but be a brat, could you?” 

You squirmed in shame. “I don’t want you to be angry with me.” 

“Well,” He said, sounding sassy as he pulled you closer, “I am pissed. Deal with it.” 

You had had enough. You slipped out of his arms, “Stay here and brood then,” You tried to get out of bed, “I’ll sleep on one of the sofas–” 

Bucky didn’t let you. A loud thunder boomed right above as he pulled you back into bed and climbed on top of you. “Stop being fucking difficult.” He hissed. 

Before you could answer, his mouth was on yours. Beard scratching your face, his long hair tickling the sides of your face. 

His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Bucky pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. “Brat.” Glaring down at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again. 

Your brain felt like it was floating. His kiss was hot. And messy. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Needy little brat. Can’t ever do as you’re told, can you? You almost got fucking killed today, but you don’t care about that. Do you? Huh?” 

You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function. 

“Why are you quiet? No bratty words for daddy?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Go on, tell me to stop. Tell me to let you go.” He taunted, knowing full well you would never do that. 

All you did was whimper as he touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. 

“You’re gonna listen from now on.” He stated. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll lock you in that apartment if I have to. But from now on, if I tell you it’s not safe out there, you do not leave that house. You hear me, princess?” 

Silence. Which earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him. “Fine,” You said, “Yes, I hear you. I’ll be good.” You whined. 

“Of course you will,” He said, his metal hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare. “‘Cause I’ll have you over my knee and spank that little butt raw if you don’t.” 

You whimpered and squirmed because of how badly you needed him inside you. “I will. I’ll be so good,” You begged, “Buck, please.” 

Bucky wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you moaning out loud, not caring that the walls might be thin. 

The storm got louder somehow, thunder rumbling and lightning lighting up the room every now and then. The rain got heavier, silencing the rest of the world as Bucky fucked you. His body weight pressing down onto you in a way that made you never want to be anywhere else. 

It didn’t matter that you were in a small motel room, so far away from home. It didn’t matter that danger could still be lurking around. Nothing mattered, not when he held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. 

He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “Look how you behave the moment you have some cock in you. Is that all my baby wanted? Daddy’s cock? Hmm? Is this why you’ve been pouting for the past few hours?” He chuckled, spreading your thighs even more, “I’ve been mean to you, haven’t I?” He cooed, fucking into you deeper somehow. “I’ve been so mean by telling you just where you messed up and how bad things could’ve gotten if I didn’t reach you in time. I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” He mocked you, scoffing, “Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock, baby? Because daddy’s so mean to you, is he?”

You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. 

“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough to make you behave from now on, baby?” 

You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. His stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body grew, familiar, tight and hot.

The storm, the streetlights, and every little bit of light allowed you to see how Bucky looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “I killed for you today.” He whispered, “I saved you, and this is what I get? Attitude? A bratty girl? Not even a thank you,” He scoffed, “Not even a ‘thank you for saving me daddy’, nothing.” The cold cruelty in his voice only made you clench around him harder. 

His hand squeezed your throat again, making you moan even louder. “Dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on?” 

“Yes,” You whined, not recognising your voice because of how desperate you sounded. Then again, only he could make you sound this way. You whimpered, unable to say anything else because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. 

Fuck, you needed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his metal fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly. 

“Yeah?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re gonna be my good girl and listen to me?” 

You nodded, tears streaming down your face again. The exhaustion from earlier, the day you had survived. It was all too much. “Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad. Your thoughts were a mess. 

“Good girl.” 

And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning, your back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier. 

Bucky kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for daddy.” 

You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 

—

You vaguely remember his cleaning the two of you. He let you rest for a minute, but then it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So he flipped you around, straddled you and began massaging your worn out body. 

He rubbed his rough hands all over your back, down your hips, and thighs. It was quiet for a while. Just the rain, the thunder, and the sound of Bucky breathing. 

Then you heard his gentle voice. “I can’t lose you. Not you.” He whispered, like he was saying it to himself, “Not you, baby.” 

Your heart throbbed and pinched.  

He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck, your shoulders, down your spine, all while massaging your body. “I don’t like being mean to you.” He kissed his way up again, nuzzling your ear and whispering, “Earlier today,” He spoke softly, “When I watched the tracker show me how fast you were getting further and further away, thinking about how they must’ve grabbed you. How easily, how quickly they took you, I–,” His voice cracked. 

You couldn’t help the tears anymore, “I’m sorry.” You tried to turn over and face him but he gently pushed you back down on the bed. 

“Shh,” He shut you up. “Just let me take care of you.” His hands touched you everywhere. Soft touches soothing the spots he’d grabbed harshly earlier. “You scared me, baby.” He kissed around the cut on your side. “For a moment I thought I’d never see you again.” 

“I’ll be good, I promise.” You sniffled, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “I’ll train harder, I’ll be better. I won’t let my guard down, ever.” 

He leaned in and kissed your lips gently. “You’re perfect.” He stated. “We’ll work on training you better. We’ll be okay. Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you. Always.” 

You gave him a teary smile and sheepishly said, “Thank you for saving me.” 

Bucky laughed softly, nuzzling your neck again, kissing your skin like he couldn’t get enough. “I would burn this entire world down if anyone tries to take you from me again.” 

You laid your head back down on the pillow, laughing softly. Thinking he was joking. 

He wasn’t.

[neil-gaiman]

I'm sorry Neil, although I love your writing and agree with your opinions on most subjects I have to disagree with you on the writers' strike. No-one should have a more privileged life as a result of being clever and creative. I worked from the age of 15 to the age of 65 in low-paid jobs, taking 1 year off to go to drama school and 3 years off to get a fine art degree. I worked in terrible but necessary jobs, labouring, stacking boxes, unloading trucks, running errands, filing, going to work on a bicycle at all hours of the day and night on shift work in all kinds of weather. Even when I was a student I was still working in part-time cleani8ng jobs and even during periods of unemployment I worked in volunteer jobs for charities and social services.

According to Mensa I have an IQ of 160 and according to Plymouth University I have a BA hons in Fine Art but I cannot accept the idea that writers and other creative people should avoid normal jobs like driving an "Uber" or working in an office/shop/factory/construction site. To accept that idea would be to create a new aristocratic class when we should abolishing the old princes and aristocrats.

What we need, I feel sure, is a redistribution of labour so that everybody who can do so would spend some time each year in blue collar work and everybody who can would get higher education and a chance to make art of one sort or another.

The idea of doing other jobs to supplement writing or drawing shouldn't be seen as a terrible thing, a punishment or a suffering. Sharing the jobs around should be seen as normal.

I mean, I've done my half century of sweat labour and it didn't hurt me too much. I'm retired now and still making art of various kinds and I've never asked anyone to pay me for any art piece I've made. making art, writing, drawing etc. is the fun stuff which we get to do in exchange for the blue collar stuff which puts food on the table.

The worst pop song ever written was Sting/Dire Straits song "Money for Nothing" which ridicules the working class from a position of educational privilege.

So what's my question? My question is: What's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet? Sounds perfectly fine to me.

Nothing's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet. Writers and artists have been doing that since the dawn of time. Actors too.

But by the same token, there's nothing right about assuming that writing isn't a blue-collar job, or that writers and other people who make art can only make it for love and that thus they need other jobs to subsidise their craft.

I like living in a world in which the people who make the things that make the world worth living in get paid for their work. For me, that includes the people who make films and TV, books, art and music and comics.

Having spent a lot of time on film and TV sets, it's a blue-collar world on set, and everyone is working long and hard to make the shows you love. I'm never going to suggest that the riggers or the gaffers or the make-up team or the focus-pullers should drive ubers in order to have the privilege of being on the set and working there.

Or to put it another way, from the most blue-collar writer I ever knew...

[b-lossm]

•+*The New Workout Plan*+•

Caitvi x reader Smut ;)

synopsis: Cait and Vi went out of town for their job for a week, leaving you weak and alone..

Smut +18 only, MDNI

Pure filth, Threesome, Dom Caitlyn Kiramman, Switch Vi [mostly dom], Sub Reader, Reader is kind of a brat tbh but like not rlly, subspace??? kinda im not too sure but ill put it here just incase, nudes, lingerie, Mommy and Daddy kink, Praise, Degradation, hair pulling, marking, fingering, strap ons, spitting, pussy slapping, edging, biting, refers to strap as 'cock' and 'dick', begging, trip to strap town with a stop at squirt city, face riding, 'bitch', hickeys, biting kinda Aftercare!!!!

Its been rough without your girlfriends, being all alone for a week is NOT for the faint of heart. They had to go on some business trip for their job, leaving you all alone, making you drive to your Pilates class all by yourself and getting froyo by yourself. Wanting to tease them, you put on their favorite set that you have and you take a cute picture of yourself

you text your groupchat

you: Vi!!! Cait!! :(

Cait<3: What's up princess? is there a problem

You: noo I just missed you guys ;(

You: 1 pic

Cait<3: Look out the window baby

Quickly, you look out the window and see Vi's big truck, they're back and your fucked. You rush to go put on some clothes to greet them outside "Cait! Vi! I missed you!" you hug them and Vi gently bites the shell of your ear, "Saw the picture you sent Sunshine, your so bad for getting us all worked up while we wanted to give you a nice suprise" you squeak as Cait pinches your side "Misbehaving without us? Thought you where better then that honey" damn it,, well..atleast you got to hug them before your punishment!

--

"f--fuck p--please c--cait--mommy pleace let me touch" you moan out as cait slowly teases your clit while Vi worked on your folds, she tuts "ah I'm not sure... last time I checked good girls got what they wanted.. isn't that right Vi?" Vi nods and talks into your pussy "m--mhmo h-- oh you've been a bad girl" Cait then tugs Vi’s hair slightly “Dont talk with your mouth full” Vi moans and lifts her head up “m-mm okay Mommy” she then dives in “m-m’ close p-please let me c—um mommy” you moan breathily as you hold your hands together, Cait then pulls Vi’s head our from your thighs “Hold it” she commands getting up from her spot behind you to get between your legs while Vi gets both of their straps.

Cait pins you to the bed with one hand as the other works your messy cunt out “thought you could get away with that hm?” she thrusts harshly only slowing to scissor your insides “thought you could just tease us while we where on the trip?” she licks a stripe up your tummy to your breasts and takes one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking and biting softly "You better be a good girl for us baby, god-- who knows what's gonna happen if you aren't" she gives you a cocky grin, spitting on your chest just to lick it back up again. As she fingers you she can tell how close you are, your whimper's and breaths become quick, your legs tremble more your cunt clenches deliciously around her fingers "Wait a second Princess" she giggles and pulls out, slapping your cunt a few times before bringing her fingers up for Vi to taste "mmph.. so good Princess" she moans softly as she lewdly swallows your juices from around Cait's fingers

As Cait secures the harness around herself Vi presses dark, angry hickeys against your neck and thighs "mmph you gonna be a good girl f' me and mommy?" Then you feel Cait's strap tapping at your mouth "Suck." she commands. Hoping to not piss them off--or at least Cait off, you do as she says and press a kiss to the tip of her strap then you slowly take it into your mouth humming as you do so. Cait moans as you send slight vibrations directly to where her clit and the base of the strap meet "being a good girl for once I see" she takes a handful of your hair and forces her strap down while Vi begins to push into your folds softly "Say peach if its too much okay baby? or tap Mommy's thigh three times" Vi says, finally bottoming out so you can feel her large, girthy, cock. With a moan you nod your head, struggling to say something along the lines of 'okay daddy' as you swallow Caitlyn's dick.

You moan and clench up around Vi "oooh I think someone here is bouta' cumm" she teases, halting her movements and looking at Cait to give the final call if you should get your release or not “Hmm do you think you should be able to cum?” Cait asks you, pulling your head off of her strap “M—mhm—p-please Mommy p—please Daddy lemme c—Ah~—cum” you whine and beg desperately as Vi’s thumb finds your clit, toying with you and keeping you on edge. Vi tuts "I think you can beg better then that princess" she takes her thumb away, slapping your messy cunt a few times "lemme hear it babes" Vi ghosts her thumb against your clit more as Cait slaps her strap against your cheeks "Come on, beg for mommy and daddy" you can hear her cocky chuckles "M-mommy ah-! daddy please--please lemme cu--m I'll b' the bes--ohhhghguuhh--best girl for you pp--please mo-mmmy ah! p--please dAddy~" you whine out as they make out on top of you, both fighting for dominance. Under them you feel like a toy in the best way possible, truth be told, you love it when they fight for dominance over you, you especially like it because one of them always ends up being a little subby, kind of like you right now. They eventually break the kiss, ending because Vi comes, just by strapping you down "go make our girl come Vi. Now." Cait commands as she takes her strap off and lowers her pussy onto your hungry mouth "eat." she then feverishly makes out with Vi while riding your face.

Its all too much for you. Caitlyn's sweet wet juices all over your face, her clit bumping the tip of your nose while yours gets tortured by Vi's middle and ring finger as she thrusts into your hungry cunt rapidly "fucking take it bitch--" Vi moans softly into Cait's mouth "C--Close" Cait whines and speeds up her movement, Vi doing the same to make you moan into her cunt "Fuck-- same" Cait's hand finds Vi's clit and rubs it to add to her pleasure "O--oh gosh!'" you moan into Cait's messy--messy pussy as you lap up her juices, squirting in the process "Shit baby.." Vi says as her whole bottom half is covered in you. Cait gets off of you breathlessly, laying next to you as Vi pulls out and lays between you two "God we need a bath.."

--

After a quick power nap, Vi gets up and runs a bath for the three of you, her orgasm not effecting her that much due to her extensive stamina. You then feel two pairs of strong arms lower you into a warm body of water, quickly joining in with you "Thank you mommy" you cuddle up to Cait "No babes, s' just Cait and Vi now okay?" she clarifies, rubbing shampoo into your hair as Vi massages your body "Mhm that's right cutie. S' just Cait and Vi" she kissed your collarbones softly, as opposed to the harsh hickeys she left in the same spots.

After the three of you bathed each other and got the care you needed they take you out of the bath to dry you off and brush your hair, feeling a little bad after your kind of harsh session "you okay princess?" Cait asks, blow drying your hair away from your skin "m-mhm.. that was nice" you say sleepily, Vi then comes back with your favorite pajama set, a cute tank top and its matching shorts "this is the one right babes?" she kisses your temple and holds your hand to help you get dressed. They both appreciate these domestic moments, even if its right after a rough session, they just like taking care of you. Yes, they do know that you are well prepared to take care of yourself, but they cant help but baby you sometimes, they just love you so much! Cait carries you to the bed and sets you down on the fresh sheets "you okay to sleep honey? got everythin' you need" she whispers into your ear, kissing the shell "mhm m' okay.. jus' need you guys" they both let out a small 'aw' as they cuddle into you from both sides "G'night, love you guys" you say sleepily "love you to Princess, and you too Vi g'night" Cait settles into her spot "G'night babes, love you guys" Vi mumbles, her words slurred as she quickly passes out.

you lucky duck

———————————————————————————

I hope you guys love this!! click here for Aftercare hcs [it'll be linked in a few hours if your early]

umm when caitvi sesbian lex scene drops im sorry for the persom im going to become.

tags but just for this fic because they commented :)

@ethandelgado1 @ cleeblatt but they wouldnt link the right acc @vivispace @lightningferel @orbitsaturn

[sparklingpax]

at the moment on my bus haunted by yet another song that is just screaming Ginhawk at me. Sunroof. It feels so much like a song Ginrai would dedicate to hawk. Help the vibes are so strong 😭

Edit: mark my fucking words I'm gonna draw this somehow and show you what I mean. Eventually of course, but I will, trust me 🥺

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Okay, so this thought started out so so evil but it kind of evolved into sweet at the end, so thank me for not going full villain era here hehe Anyway, pulls out pitch notecards, picture this:

Buck has fallen back into a coma. And almost immediately he starts to notice the signs of the a coma dream - the difference in job, the way his brother is still alive, he seems to be suspicious, he seems to be starting to question this, wanting out, but -

But.

Then he sees Tommy.

Tommy apologizes that he's late.

Well.

Morning Late.

He knows Evan has classes to teach soon. But he was late coming back from work and he apologizes. He talks about how the private helicopter flight he was piloting was late to land; talks about this cute couple that proposed in the air.

Just like them, Tommy says, though, maybe Buck doesn't quite catch that.

Tells Buck he'll make it up to Evan, tells Evan he still has time to drive him to work if they go right now.

And.

Buck falters.

Tommy takes it wrong - tells Evan that they really don't have time for a quickie, even if it was record time.

And.

Buck goes with him.

Buck follows him to the vintage truck that Tommy had been tinkering on for forever and asks Tommy about that.

Tommy replies, confused.

Says that he fixed it a week ago, remember? He's been driving Evan to work in the car ever since. He asks if Evan's okay. He goes to check Buck's temperature.

And.

Buck notices the ring.

The ring on his hand.

The ring on Tommy's hand too.

And he tells Tommy, yes. Not that he's sick, but - but he wants to take a sick day. Tommy finds that curious - Evan rarely wants to take a sick day. The job is too important. And Evan hates being sick.

But.

Well.

It is their anniversary, after all. Tommy supposed they could take a day off together.

Play hookey.

Tommy could clear his schedule. Tommy asks Evan what he wants to do.

And.

Buck insists - he wants to do what Tommy wants to do.

And.

Tommy's a little shy about that. Tommy reminds Buck that it's their anniversary, not just Tommy's. But Buck insists - they always do what Buck wants to do. He wants to do what Tommy wants to do.

Tommy tries to charm Buck, says he loves doing what Evan loves, but Buck stands his ground.

So.

Tommy, against his better judgment, seems to fold.

And they go about doing a perfect day for Tommy.

Long ride down the coastal highway together. Late lunch at Michelli's (despite the curse! as they both joke). Love, Actually playing at the Hollywood Forever Cemetary. The rest of the night cozy in their home.

And all that time, Buck is just watching Tommy; watching Tommy be happy.

And when they finally get home, Buck is crying.

Confused and a little panicked, Tommy asks Buck what's wrong. Buck tells him that he knows this isn't real. He wanted to do it anyway, but he knew it wasn't real.

Because Tommy hadn't texted back. Because Buck hadn't tried to reach out either. But god, had he wanted at least one day with Tommy.

And they talk about it.

The breakup.

Why Tommy might be scared.

Why that fear hurt Buck.

Why this fell apart despite the love they clearly had.

And Tommy tells Evan that he knows they would make it.

Evan scoffs at that.

How could they?

It's been months.

Tommy responds that if it was him out there in the real world, well, he would be right at Evan's side if Evan was in a coma.

Evan wonders if he's right. He tells Tommy he's sorry; that he wished this was real.

Tommy understands; part of why he was there was to give Evan a little reprieve as he healed enough to wake up.

Evan kisses the coma Tommy goodbye, waking up.

Alone.

No one in the hospital room.

And at first, his heart sinks.

But.

Then, he hears Tommy outside of the room tiredly asking why Howie's not in the room with Evan; that Howie promised he'd keep Evan's company while Tommy got something to eat, something Howie made Tommy do.

Chimney apologizes, and Tommy's okay with it. Tommy apologizes too. Tommy explains that he's just tired and scared and worried, and he's walking into the hospital room and -

There.

Buck sees him.

He's haggard and sleep-deprived, but it's Tommy.

His Tommy.

And Evan couldn't help but croak out a tearful, "Tommy?"

Tommy.

Freezes.

His gaze at Evan becoming frenzied as he scrambles to put his cup down and rush over to Evan's side.

To hold Buck.

To hold Evan.

Collapsing on top of Buck as "I'm so sorry"s and "I love you"s spring from Tommy like a faucet, washing over Buck in sobs.

Tommy is holding Evan.

His Evan.

And Buck couldn't help but think as he weakly held Tommy as best as he could, that he was holding Tommy.

His Tommy.

And Buck didn't remember why he was in the hospital. He didn't know how long he had been there or what had happened since he fell into a coma. But he knows he can finally talk this through with Tommy.

That he never wants to let go of Tommy again.

[0mg-bird]

Sunrise~ Tyler Owens x Fem! Reader

Summary: The curious case of the tornado wranglers, down to earth, girlfriend.

A/n: I just watched Twisters and am in love. Right now Sunrise by Ryan Bingham is my favorite song so here’s a little one shot inspired by it.

Warnings: Language, implied smut

Everyone’s called you crazy ever since you were born. The people in your small Texas town said you were the wild child, your parents had four boys and when their baby girl came around, she had a mean streak just like her brothers. Ten years old and standing in an empty corn field, looking at the thunder heads forming above you, hot and muggy air gusting against your skin, the crack of thunder didn’t scare you, you were utterly curious and amazed. You’ve known storms since you were a babe, you remember the shrill sound of the sirens going off and your mama screaming for you to come inside. Your family was in a panic, you remember your daddy letting the horses loose and the way the cattle ran. That funnel touched down and prayers were prayed, you watched from the bathroom window despite the way your mama dragged you away.

It was beautiful, so utterly terrifying in the distance, a force of straight power.

You were hooked.

Telling your parents you were going to the University of Arkansas to study meteorology was a good idea in theory until they told you becoming a weather girl was a sweet job.

You told them about storm chasing and your mama almost had a stroke.

But you’ve worried everyone your whole life, only you would choose something so crazy.

You met Tyler your sophomore year when you had the same class, your energetic personality hid the fact you were a nerdy kind of cowgirl. The two of you quickly became best friends, despite his cocky personality. You formed a dare devil connection, you were the call he made when he got a lead on something.

Graduation came and you said you were going back home, he hated that idea.

“Come with me.” He said.

“Where?”

“Anywhere, everywhere.”

It’s hard to say no to a man with puppy dog eyes.

Somewhere between gathering a crew up from all over the boons and adopting a one eyed dog you found stranded after a storm in Little Rock, the two of you fell so deep for each other, it hit harder than any storm you experienced.

Here you are now in Oklahoma, cutting through fields in Tyler’s red Ram truck. “Lilly, talk to me.” You call over the radio system on the dash, looking for what data the girl in the vehicle following has. In the backseat, Boone, the right hand man, is recording like always, talking to the followers.

“Welcome back guys, we’re currently back at it again in the Oklahoma plains. This beauty we’re going into is gaining speed, turning into something good. What are we thinking, Tex?”

You look to the camera and smile. “You know, I’d like to call this an easy F2 but the strong updraft we’re getting here could push this baby into the F3 category.”

Also from the back seat, Ben, the London journalist asks to explain what you just said.

The rain cap starts and muddies the earth, the truck drifts as Tyler maneuvers it greatly. You pull your sunglasses off and lean forward to get a better look at what you’re driving into.

“What are you thinking, darlin’?” Tyler asks, seeing the way you evaluate the area.

“Take a left, it ain’t gonna hit the tree line, see the way the wind shifted?” You instruct.

“Yes ma’am.” He nods, giving you one of his perfect grins before making a sharp left.

Ben makes a sort of strangled cry of fear as he gets tossed around in the back. You, completely nonchalant, chewing on a Red Vine, turn to look at the Brit.

“Ben, baby, how you feeling back there?” You ask, pointing something else out to Tyler.

“Oh I’m bloody great.” He lies before getting knocked into the door again. You laugh. “Man, I love this guy.” You declare, finding him so amusing. “Let’s keep him, Ty.”

He rolls his eyes at you, making you scoff. You look at the dog in your lap who’s wearing a tiny helmet with the words ‘Killa’ written across the front. “What you think, Rocky? You wanna keep Ben?”

The dog lays his head down and places his paw over his small snout.

“Rude. Ty, Rock used to agree to everything I say, now you’ve done gone and brain washed him. Poor fella.” You pout before yelping in surprise at the way Tyler drifts into a spot. He grips the radio, calling for the convoy to assume their positions.

“Sorry, I’m no expert but it looks like the twister is going to roll right over us.” Ben says as everyone buckles their harnesses.

“You’re exactly right Benny boy.” You say, opening the center console and placing Rocky inside his designated safety seat. “We need to be in its path so the data bugs we’ll launch have enough wind speed to reach the height needed. Put your harness on and you’ll be about as secure as a pistol in a PTA Mama’s purse.”

Ben looks to Boone in question. Boone just shrugs. “At some point you get used to all the odd shit she says.”

Tyler cranks the E brake, then looks at you with a smirk. “You wanna touch my joystick?” He ask, motioning to the control stick that has the button to activate the drills that will anchor the truck into the ground.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” You scrunch your nose, pushing the button.

The truck is secured, you’re all buckled in tight, now you have to focus on when it’s the perfect time to launch the processors. Things are blowing against the windows, Tyler’s laughing and Boone is howling into the camera, showing the viewers what they see.

“Tell me when.” Tyler says, and as thick water drops pummel the windshield, you stay silent, waiting…watching.

“Now!” You shout and he presses the button that activates the hydraulic opening lid to the tub in the truck bed, the small bug sensors fly out and are carried up into the funnel that is passing over you.

“Breaker breaker, what are we seeing?” You call into the radio, Dexter in the caravan off in the clearing responds. “We got eyes, Tex. Data is coming in clear.”

You shoot your arms up in victory, this was the first time you were launching the 2.0 sensors. “There we go!” You look directly into the camera Boone is pointing at you. “You see that kids? I still got it.”

You watch the storm pass you, the funnel goes into the distance and the winds calm a bit as you unbuckle your harness. You’re pulling the pup from its safety and throwing open the door, running to the spot it just was.

“Whoo!” You hear Tyler whoop, and you throw that snapback hat of his you were wearing, adrenaline pumping through you. He sweeps you into his large arms, twirling you around. “Did you see that, baby? God, that was beautiful.” He laughs and you pull on the brim of his cowboy hat. “I sure did, let’s go get those bugs before we lose their signals, cowboy.”

Later as you set up camp in some cheap motel, Ben is approaching Lilly and Boone with questions.

“I need a story about the girl, uh Tex? Does she have a name?” He settles into one of the fold out chairs and motions to you sitting on the roof of the truck, looking up at the stars and listening to the music playing on the radio.

Lilly chuckles and then makes an adjustment to her drone. “She does, but she’d kill you if she found out you was using her government name in your fancy paper.”

Ben finds that interesting, he writes a few notes about a very mysterious persona you have. “How long has she been in this business? I tried to ask her some questions but she shushed me and told me she was ‘meditating to a Childers song’ and it was very important that she did this.”

Boone shakes his head. “She says confusing stuff to make people go away when she wants her peace.” He explains. “Tex is the original, her and T were the ones to assemble the squad of us, they taught me everything I know. She might be crazier than he is if I’m bein’ honest, always pushing the limits but every move she makes is calculated.”

Lilly agrees. “She’s my best friend, but has always been a curious case. She comes from Texas, hence the nickname and the accent that gets too thick when she’s drunk. Mama wanted her to be this Southern belle but she turned out to be a real wrangler. She’s the smartest person I know, but has a very relaxed way about her.”

“Who?” Dexter asks as he passes by.

“Tex.” They answer.

He shakes his head. “That girl’s a tree hugging loon.”

Ben quickly comes to know the dynamic of you and Tyler. There is no home but each other, you make the best of every situation because you are together. Two pairs of cowboy boots and wide eyes, that’s what you two are.

“I’d compare her to like…a coyote.” Lilly determines. “She’s the perfect balance of wisdom and foolishness, always willing to make light of situations. One time, we were tracking a desert storm in New Mexico and we were camping in our trucks, it was hot, all our leads were gone and we’re ready to turn back. The sunrise comes and it’s prettiest thing I ever seen, we wake up to just a color spill of orange and pink. We open our doors up and Tex is out there dancing in a sports bra and boxers.”

Boone leans back in his chair, laughing at the memory. “Man, we thought she finally lost it, that being with Tyler for so long finally made her go off the rails. T is standing there, watching her, asking what the hell she was doing and she claims she was doing a rain dance.” He says, making Ben chuckle to himself.

Lilly lights a cigarette and rolls her eyes. “She was out there shaking her ass.”

“You fucking joined her!” Boone argues, taking the cigarette from her.

“Well yeah, you don’t let your best friend dance alone. And what happened that day? The rain came and the biggest thunderheads I had ever seen blew in. The lightning was beautiful, Ben, you shoulda been there.”

New Mexico rain was a memory you thought of often, it just felt a little fresher. Blame it on the heat you were dying of or the thirsty land you stood on, but you stood out in it, getting soaked to the bone and then fell into Tyler’s arms.

Now, far away in Oklahoma, Tyler stands looking up at you soaking in the moonlight. “Come down from there.” He calls. You lean over the edge of the roof and look at him. “Why don’t you come up here?” You challenge.

Tyler shakes his head. “I’m tired, darlin’. Let me take you inside.”

You look back up at the stars, then slide from the top of the truck, making him reach out and catch you. “Alright, take me to bed you old man.”

He shakes his head at your comment. It’s hard to resist anymore, you just looked so gorgeous underneath the moonlight. He leans to kiss you, nothing too deep but still of passion because he loves tasting the sugar of your lips, you were always so sweet that it made his head cloudy.

Arm around your shoulders, yours around his waist, the two of you say goodnight to your friends and head to your motel room, Rocky trotting after you. The lock on the door is hard to budge open, the room has a sort of stale smell.

As Tyler is distracted by setting up a bed for the dog, you grab your things from your duffel. “Dibs in the bathroom.” You shout before making a run for it. Tyler groans and tries to beat you, but you stand in the doorway, sticking your tongue out at him. “You just gotta be faster.” You tease before shutting the door in his face.

The low bulb light casts a hazy orange glow to everything, you start the shower and find it to have weak water pressure. Your clothes make a pile on the floor and soon the air steams up.

Your muscles relax as you wash off, you let out a small groan at your fingers scrubbing your scalp. The sound of the shower curtain being pulled back and Tyler stepping in behind you makes you turn. “I haven’t even been in here that long.”

He shrugs, then moves to hog the water. “I got impatient.”

After being with someone for so long and sharing everything, nothing really fazes you. The crew jokes that you and Tyler could probably morph into one body at this point.

By the time the two of you are mostly rinsed off, he’s getting handsy. His fingers trace over your handful of tattoos, wet skin sliding across you in a feverish way. You lean your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him. “Ty…”

He looks down you was an innocent smile. “Oh come on, we’ve been traveling with people for too long. We get one night without Boone gagging when I kiss you.” He says, then leans his head down, nuzzling into your neck.

You bite your lip at the feeling, your arm coming up to run your hand through his hair. “Who’s in the room next to us? These walls are thin.”

“I don’t give a shit about that.” He mumbles, hand slipping far past your navel, earning a loud gasp from you.

You lean your weight back against him, nodding feverishly as his fingers do wonders to an aching spot between your legs. “Okay, not having Boone around is really good.” You breathe.

He’s practically holding you up, his other arm is around you, holding you to his chest while he makes you fall apart.

It didn’t matter that the room hasn’t been updated since the 80’s or that the mattress groaned under the weight of the two of you or that Rocky runs and hides, the two of you were savoring this alone time because you didn’t know when the next time would be when you got it.

You’re laughing, making out and switching positions. The feel of his hand running past the valley of your breasts and giving your throat the lightest grip, it makes you feel on fire. The headboard’s getting knocked into the wall, you’re breathlessly whining and he’s loving every reaction you give him. By the time you’re gripping his shoulders so tight and his name is sounding broken as it cuts from your throat, he’s barely holding himself up.

The air conditioning makes an odd hum sound as you lay against him, skin on skin. You never understood how people could get bored of sex after being with someone for a while, having sex with Tyler Owens was hotter than west Texas in the Summer.

Well, the first time was a little awkward. Most people don’t establish they love each other before they sleep with each other, but you guys did. When you sat in his lap, lips slotted against his, you had to fight to push the idea out of your mind that you were grinding against your best friend. Everything was slow and every touch was unsure, after it ended you were scared that the relationship dynamic would never work if this was how sex was together.

You laugh now, thinking about it.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, fingers tracing the long horn skull that is tramp stamped on you.

“I’m just remembering the first time we had sex.” You shake with amusement. He groans. “You have to stop bringing that up.”

Pushing up from his chest, the blanket falls off of you. He watches in amazement as you swing your leg over his waist, your hands planted on his chest. “I think it’s cute, we were just babies.”

“Yeah, sometimes I miss the days where I didn’t know how insane you were.”

You glare, immediately going to move off of him before his grip yanks you back to your spot.

“I’m kidding, I always knew you were crazy.” He says.

“You love it.” You lean over him, and his hand comes to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “You know I do, darlin’.”

Falling asleep was easy, you could fall asleep anywhere, but in a bed with Tyler holding you to his chest, it had you dreaming in seconds. You wake before he does, slowly sliding away to get dressed. You stand at the balcony outside, a cup of coffee in your hand as you watch the sunrise. After a few moments of peace, the door behind you opens and out comes your lover boy.

“No rain dance this morning?” He asks, kissing the top of your head.

“There’s plenty of rain in Oklahoma, they don’t need me to shake my ass in the parking lot for it to come.” You state, leaning down to pick up Rocky who trailed out after Tyler.

The two- well, three of you, look out at the horizon line, the air is already getting hot.

“You ready?” He asks you, and you turn to kiss his jaw. “I’m always ready.”

[scoutofmymind]

can u please write something about how like reader felt while luigi was missing for 6 months. like would he reach out, would she go with him etc. also i love ur stories 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Run — { Luigi x Reader }

Content: sfw, angst, friends to lovers, slight situationship vibe, reader is an artist, kissing, heartbreak, explores ideas of guilty Luigi.

Wc: 2,345

Notes; Luigi vanishes - no warning, no footprints, just the sudden hollow where your life used to fit against his, opening to six months of silence before his letter appears under your door, bearing coordinates to a payphone five blocks away.

You didn't know where you'd be six months later when Luigi drove you down to the lake in his old Bronco, your spot shotgun worn from all those midnight trips for ice cream, the two of you off-roading through patches of corn fields out in the boonies — afterward he'd drop you off at home in the city, then drive himself back to the suburbs, unless he fell asleep in your room despite insisting he couldn't stay because of morning classes.

He always found it hard to leave you.

June warmed the brown leather beneath you, the window cracked to let in the summer air sweetened with hay as Luigi sped down the winding back roads of the countryside, rambling about his sister's new donkey they'd keep at the farm — the Mangione's second, more humble mansion with its livestock and respectable Christmas tree operation.

"You know you're my best friend, don't you?" He'd turned to look at you, the old truck thrown into park at the Dairy Queen after you'd convinced him the donkey could wait.

"Yeah." You nodded, cheeks full of ice cream, brows furrowed. You didn't notice then how his face had flushed red, embarrassed at blurting something so obvious it had never needed questioning. "Who else would you have time for?"

School, tech clubs, part-time job, and you.

Those were the pillars Luigi had built his life around, and for years, it had worked.

You and Luigi could fill a room with laughter —obnoxious howls and high-pitched giggle fits that echoed off walls — or sink into comfortable silence, Luigi drifting toward sleep while you lost yourself in whatever new book he'd brought for you to borrow from the university library.

Your own schedule mirrored his in its fullness, though school took a backseat to your collection of side hustles, your primary source of income selling art pieces at local markets where you'd drag Luigi along to showcase your most treasured works.

"That's a good point." He shot you a grin, spoon dangling upside down from his mouth as he finally broke his gaze from yours to stare out at the tall grass swaying beyond the windshield. "I just hope you know that."

You shift to pull your knees up in the passenger seat, turning to face him with your back against the door. "Feeling sappy again, are you?" Your foot stretches to nudge his knee, the leather creaking beneath you. "S'alright. I like when you get all soft."

Just the week before, Luigi's heart had been sitting too close to the surface, everything managing to touch a nerve — the way his mother spoke about his future over Sunday dinner, how his professor had dismissed his latest project idea, and even the changing spring weather that threatened the saplings he planted last fall.

Eventually, he recalibrated, but that raw tenderness still surfaced in waves.

"Yeah, maybe." Luigi shrugged, leaning over to dig his spoon into your ice cream, stealing a taste. "I just think it's worth saying. A reminder never hurts."

You'd never wanted to invalidate Luigi's feelings — and while you loved to tease him, you'd never dismiss what he shared. He was a natural at expressing himself when he chose to, and you knew if he voiced something, it meant those feelings ran deep.

"You're right, Lu." You say softly, letting your knees drop as you lean toward him, patting his thigh. "Thank you for telling me." He turns to you, his lips curling into that familiar grin. "You're my best friend too. Obviously."

"I know it's obvious," he groans, stealing yet another spoonful of your ice cream, your reflexes failing you when you jerk the cup away. "Let me just fuckin' say it." The late afternoon sun catches in his dark curls, the sun setting over the field.

You wave your hands in surrender, "Alright, alright." A laugh spills from your lips as you lean forward, spoon stretching toward his cup, missing entirely when he pulls it just out of reach. The melting ice cream drips onto the weathered console between you. "C'mon, lemme try."

He shoves a heaping spoonful into his mouth, eyebrows lifting in that familiar challenge, dimples deepening as a muffled "Come get it" drifts across the console, and the invitation draws you across the seat into his lap, the old leather protesting beneath your shifting weight while his free hand automatically found its place at your waist to steady you.

It wasn't the first time you'd tasted ice cream from his mouth, sweet and cold and mingled with laughter — but it would be the last.

And by some cruel twist of fate, that sun-drenched afternoon in his car, with melting ice cream and shared breaths, would be the final time you'd see Luigi's face in person.

After that day, he'd only exist in grainy security footage and missing person flyers.

It's a specific kind of agony, one that lives beneath your ribs.

You searched every corner of his life — the obvious hiding spots and the secret ones only you knew about. The Bronco yielded nothing but old receipts and a forgotten hoodie that still smelled like him.

You harassed mutual friends until they stopped answering, reached out to people who barely knew him, desperate for any trace.

"If Luigi doesn't want to be found, he won't be," Andrew told you, defeated after failing to track any of his devices that had sat abandoned in his room, right there on his desk to be found. Wiped clean. Stranger-cold.

Even your face was gone from his lock screen, erased like everything else.

Sometimes you wondered if you imagined him entirely.

It would be easier than accepting how methodically he vanished, how carefully he erased himself from your world. But then you'll find evidence — a movie ticket stub, a photo booth strip tucked into an old book. The careful progression from strangers to friends to best friends to that unnamed thing you became.

The way you'd end up tangled in his sheets, his hand gentle at your throat, or how you'd hang up on him three seconds into a call because he knew exactly how to push your buttons.

It couldn't have been real — how could someone who claimed to love every scattered piece of you leave without taking any of them with him?

Therapy wasn't optional anymore.

Your friends watched you spiral into something darker than even middle school heartbreak, something that wrapped around your organs and threaded itself through your bones.

This wasn't the kind of pain that faded; it evolved, grew thorns, made itself at home in your marrow.

But talking helped.

Six months without Luigi became possible, then probable, then real — not because you wanted it, but because the alternative was letting yourself disappear, too.

The letter arrives alone on a Tuesday, no bills or wedding invitations to keep it company, just your name in that familiar scrawl that makes your stomach drop. "What do you think?" you whisper to Mario, who's wagging his tail like he knows something you don't, nudging the envelope across the hardwood with his nose.

Luigi named Mario when you got him as a puppy six years ago; Mario, because he thought they’d become more of a duo than the two of you had been.

And that, they did.

"Mar, quit it," you mutter, wrestling the envelope from under his paw where he's planted himself like a furry anchor. The paper is damp from his nose, and it takes four tries to open it without destroying whatever's inside. Your hands won't stop shaking. "The fuck is this."

Eight words stare back at you.

December 3rd, 8:15PM. Pay phone outside of Murphy's on 12th.

Mario presses his cold nose against the back of the paper as you stare down at it, inhaling deeply like he's trying to memorize something. His tail wags so hard his whole body sways, but then a whine escapes him — low and confused.

You know that sound; It's the same one he makes when he finds one of Luigi's old shirts in the back of your closet, when he can smell what he's looking for but can't find it.

The paper crumples in your fist as Mario leans against your legs, still whining softly. Six months of therapy, of learning to breathe around the hollow space Luigi left behind, of convincing yourself that moving forward meant letting go — and here he is, eight words dropping into your life like a lit match.

Still, you march yourself there.

Mario decided somewhere in these six months that he needed to be more than just a wagging tail and sloppy kisses. He took Luigi's place as protector, navigator, watchful eyes scanning every shadow as you cut through familiar alleyways to Murphy's corner.

Your phone reads

8:20

"Shit." You glance down at Mario, who's pressed against your leg, his head tilted back to study your face with those knowing brown eyes. "Fuck this." The words taste like surrender as you pocket your phone, but Mario plants himself like a furry statue, refusing to let you move.

"Mar, c'mon." Your voice cracks, but he stays rooted until that first metallic ring cuts through the night air. The payphone looks ancient, probably witness to a thousand desperate conversations, a thousand promises made and broken against its scratched plastic shell, and whatever the fuck this is going to be.

Mario's ears prick forward at the second ring.

His tail, which hasn't stopped moving since you left the apartment, goes suddenly still.

The third ring echoes off brick walls, and you realize your hand is already reaching for the receiver, and before you can even press the phone to your ear, his name escapes like a prayer: "Lu — Luigi?" Your voice wavers between accusation and hope, sharp but fragile at the edges.

Through the static, you hear breathing — that familiar rhythm you could still map in your sleep.

"You know you're my best friend, don't you?"

The words hit like a physical force.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tilting your head back against tears that threaten to spill. "Where are you, Lu?" The receiver trembles in your white-knuckled grip like it might hold some piece of him. "I'm sorry I showed up late."

"I knew you would." His voice is soft, almost lost beneath a symphony of distant horns and city life —sounds too big, too foreign for the quiet streets you both grew up in. "8:15 is an odd time, hm? Figured more like 8:30 would be when you actually showed. Surprised you answered this one."

"How are you?" You keep your question careful, safe — one that won't send him running back into silence, into six more months of nothing; and now this strange urban backdrop paints him somewhere far beyond your reach.

“I miss you.” Luigi says softly, words he’d said plenty before, but they had never carried this sort of weight. “That’s how I am, I guess.”

Why did you leave me, then?

Please tell me where you are.

Whatever it is, Lu, we can fix it.

“I miss you too.” Is what you say instead, the line keeping him here with you feeling much like a fading spirit, destined to disappear any moment if you didn’t watch your step. “Mario is lost without you.”

“Ah, he’s a big boy.” Luigi sniffles softly, and you can tell he’s trying to hide it. “Been taking care of you, hasn’t he?”

Your head bobs in a nod he'll never see, and suddenly grief hits like a physical blow, doubling you over in the cracked vinyl booth. A sob tears through you, raw and feral, ripping up those poisoned vines of betrayal that have wound themselves through every hollow space he left behind.

"Please come back, Lu. I can't—" The words strangle in your throat as you curl deeper into the booth's shadow, pressing your forehead against the phone hook.

You're trying to fold yourself smaller, to disappear from the fluorescent exposure of Murphy's front windows, from the pitying glances of late-night sidewalk wanderers who pretend not to notice the spectacle of your breakdown.

"I can't, baby." Luigi's whisper barely exists, a breath caught between static and silence, but you strain toward it like a dying plant toward light. "It can't work that way — there's nothing either of us can do about it."

Questions bloom like bruises under your skin.

Is he sleeping in a real bed?

Has he shaved?

Who's making sure he remembers to eat?

You bite down on your lip until you taste copper, trying to dam the flood of 'why's' threatening to spill out. Each suppressed question burns like bile in your throat. He's already thrust the blade in deep — watching him twist it with such gentle hands makes it somehow worse.

"I just needed you to know I was safe." His voice shifts, crystallizing into something harder, something that sounds less like your Luigi and more like whoever he's becoming. "And that I love you. I needed you to know that."

"I love you." The words fall into a sudden void as the city sounds cut out on the other line, replaced by a sharp fizz of static, and then nothing.

You press the receiver harder against your ear, as if you could force his voice back through sheer desperation, and the tone eventually starts its monotonous song, but you can't make yourself hang up.

You wait in that phone booth for an hour, then two.

The neon signs paint wet streaks of color across the glass, and your legs go numb from standing, but you wait for a call back.

It never comes.

Monday morning's headlines make everything brutally clear.

His name in bold print.

The investigation.

The evidence trail leading nowhere and everywhere at once.

And suddenly you understand why he couldn't stay, why he had to hear your voice one last time, and you wish to God you didn't.

Because now you know he wasn't running from something.

He was running toward it.

[lesservillain]

alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

cw: omegaverse, soul bonding, scenting, knotting, unprotected piv, breeding, semi public sex, pregnancy

an: part of the school days universe.

Five days.

It’s only been five days since you started your newest substitute teaching job at Hawkins High School.

Well, scratch that. It’s only second period, so you can really only say it’s been four days, barely 9 am even, but it’s already been just as hellish as the rest of the week.

Monday started with you not being able to find a parking spot, having to park down the road and run into class. Turns out you were trying to park in student parking and weren’t aware of the back lot for the teachers to park in. 

Tuesday you dumped your coffee that you waited way too long in line for all over your notes from the teacher you were subbing for. Thankfully it was only the current week's curriculum and you were able to decipher the notes enough to get the gist of what you needed to be doing, but it was still a pain in the ass.

Wednesday your tire went flat on the way to work. Thankfully one of the other teachers, Mr.Harrington, just happened to be driving by and gave you a ride the rest of the way. You were able to call a tow truck to take your car to a nearby body shop that you walked to after work. You’re pretty sure the guy overcharged you for the tire but you were too exhausted to argue.

Thursday, oh Thursday, your students in your second period class decided that they weren’t going to take you seriously, making rude noises and disrupting class with unrelated questions, and randomly scenting just to get under your skin. This period was heavy with new alphas, and if you hadn’t been warned ahead of time, you could tell by the way they all behaved. The teacher you were subbing for was able to reign them all in somehow, but you were struggling with getting them to listen to anything you had to say.

So, naturally, this would be the class that would see your Friday turn into the worst day of the week so far. 

There was only 10 minutes left in the class. There had been some rowdiness, but not nearly as bad as the day before. You were so close to moving on to your easier classes of the day when a water pipe decided to burst directly above you, breaking the ceiling tile and completely drenching you in cold water. 

Everything was still for a single beat, until the silence was cut by the boisterous laughter of the 22 seniors who watched the incident happen in real time. After the initial shock, you yelled at them to be quiet, more stern than you’ve ever been in your life, and told them to read the chapter on their own while you called the office.

As you turned to go to your desk, you caught your reflection in the window and were instantly reminded that you were wearing a white shirt today, the deep magenta of your bra very visible now due to the state of your top. 

Embarrassment is one thing, but when you remember the morning you had, it just pisses you off more than anything. You had initially put on a blue top when you woke up this morning, but, on top of everything else you were dealing with this week, you were also having to take care of your fiance, Dave, during his rut as well, which was a job all on its own. 

He insisted that he wouldn’t be able to wait for you to get home with the pain he was in, so you let him get in a quickie while you were brushing your teeth. He also refused to wear a condom, telling you the pain would subside for longer if he could feel you. But, you weren’t falling for his tricks, and as soon as you felt his knot starting to swell you pulled away from him, ending up with his spend all over the back of your shirt.

Which led you to now, where you sit at your desk with your head down and your arms crossed over your chest trying to hold back tears as you wait for the maintenance guy to come look at the ceiling. You could hear the snickering and teasing whispers from your students but were too defeated to tell them to do their work. Only when you got a faint smell of cinnamon spice and warm smoke did you finally speak up.

“Whoever is scenting right now, knock it off before I write you up.”

Low murmuring and a voice quietly saying “it wasn’t me” to another student's accusation were the only response you received. But the smell only got stronger. 

Stronger to the point where you felt your body shiver for a moment. It made your body heat up in a way you haven’t felt in a while, your thighs rubbing together subtly under your desk. 

You lifted your head to yell at your students again, but was interrupted by a knock on the classroom door before you could speak. The scent was so strong now that there was no way it was from an immature alpha. that you felt dizzy when you turned your head to see who was entering your classroom.

As your vision settled on the figure before you, you felt like your breath had been knocked out of you. A tall man with beautiful curly brown hair and big, brown eyes took a few steps into the classroom. He was silent, gawking at you in the same way you must be looking at him. 

“H-hi, I’m Eddie,” he stuttered, being the first to speak once the giggling from the students brought him back to reality. When you hear his name for the first time, you swear you can hear bells ringing in the distance.

 “I’m here to check your pipes.” Another round of laughter fills the room, causing you to run your hands over your face and down to the back of your neck. 

“Guys, please—”

“That’s enough.”

The scent surrounding you peaks as a weight falls over the room. The students fall silent, but your head reels as you feel your body heat up. It felt like the beginning of your heat, but it was nowhere close to being due thanks to your suppressants. 

After a beat, the tension was interrupted by the sound of the bell. And just as quickly as it came, the thick hold on the room was gone. Your students quickly grabbed their things and exited the room without a word.

You fan yourself as you feel the fever begin to dissipate. Eddie walks over to your side, concern sewed into his features as his eyes searched your face.

“Are you okay? I didn’t think I had scented so strongly…”

“Gosh, yes, I’m sorry,” you say, shaking your head to get back into your professional mindset. “I’m fine, just a little stressed.” You introduce yourself to him, extending a hand to him out of habit. You see his eyes go wide before darting to the side, his cheeks tinted pink.

You suddenly remember the state of your attire and quickly curl into yourself again, spewing apologies in an attempt to save any respect that he may have for you.

“Hey, it’s cool,” he laughs your embarrassment off, eyes still on anything other than you. “Do you, uh, want something to wear over that?” He’s pointing over his shoulder, taking a few steps back towards the door. Before you can really respond, he’s gone, almost running into a group of students as they begin to fill your class for the next period. 

As your third period class enters, you tell the students to take their seats until you can figure out how class is going to go. A few minutes later, Eddie returns with his hands full and pushes a mop bucket into the room. He places a wet floor sign in the middle of the room to free his hands before he’s handing you a black sweater. You thank him quietly when you take it, vision drawn to the chunky silver rings on his…really thick fingers.

You pull the sweater over your head and are immediately dizzy with the strong smell from before, mixed with a faint smell of cigarettes and sweat in the collar. The well worn sweater with frayed cuffs was soft and warm, the Metallica logo in dark gray letters displayed across the front covers your shame, allowing you to finally leave your desk.

As you rise to your feet, you catch the way Eddie is staring at you out of the corner of your eye. Was he thinking about your wet shirt under his sweater? Why do you hope that he is?

“Thank you,” you say, subconsciously pulling the fabric to your nose for a moment. Eddie stares at you for a moment, sucking in a deep breath of air before nodding wordlessly.

“Yeah, no, uh, no problem,” he murmurs, breathing out with a huff, a small smile tugging on his lips. The second bell rings to signal the start of the next period, making Eddie jump and look around. “Oh, yeah, um, when is your free period?”

“Not until fifth period.”

“Okay,” he says, bouncing his head as he looks at the water still puddled on the floor. “Do you want me to mop this up now, or do it when I come back? I don’t want to interrupt your class.”

“That’s okay,” you say with a wave of the hand, “My next two classes are taking a test today. So as long as you’re not giving them any answers, you won’t be a problem.”

Eddie nods and gets to work, doing his best to stay out of your way while you get through your two classes. You do your best not to let yourself be distracted by him, keeping busy with grading papers and prepping your chalkboard for your last classes of the day. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t take little glances at him as he worked. Maybe you noticed the way the sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps when he carried his ladder in between classes. Maybe you let yourself indulge in the flash of his toned stomach when he lifted his shirt briefly to wipe his brow. Maybe you stared at his ass while he picked up the broken ceiling tile pieces off the floor. 

In the back of your mind you knew you shouldn’t be looking, especially when you have a fiance waiting for you back home. You’re not even the type of person to ogle someone the way you are right now. 

But something about Eddie’s presence was making you feel…different. Domestic. Like there was a misplaced pride in his ability to do his own job. You wanted to praise him for being a big strong alpha—your big strong alpha.

One of your students hesitates at your desk as she drops off her test, pulling you out of your fantasy. She’s one of the more quiet students, so you ask her if she needs anything as she continues to hover next to you. 

“Um,” she pauses for a moment, looking over at Eddie just as he walks out of the room. She says your name quietly, leaning in a bit to whisper, “Are you and Mr.Eddie dating?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress the laugh that naturally pulled from your chest at the question. 

“No, we are not,” you answer. You tilt your head inquisitively, “Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re wearing his sweater. Usually people wear their boyfriends sweaters when they’re dating…”she comments as she points at the offending garment.

You smile at her, “I’m just borrowing it. I’ll be giving it back at the end of the day.”

She’s quiet for a moment, and you think that maybe the answer was enough for her. But she leans in to whisper again, “But why has he been staring at you all of class?”

A warm feeling washes over your chest at her words. Has he been keeping an eye on you? How did you not notice? Was he just keeping an eye on you or was he checking you out?

Before you could answer her, Eddie walks back into the room and your student hurriedly made her way back to her desk. You can’t help but watch him as he adjusts the tool belt that sets on his hips, a screwdriver being held between his lips as he does. As he grabs it from his mouth, you catch him looking at you for the first time. You wait for him to shy away like he did before, but instead he winks at you—fucking winks at you, before making his way back up the ladder.

The butterflies you felt in your tummy make you feel like a teen again. You don’t even know who you are right now. Have you just been so miserable in your current relationship for so long that you’re just happy to have another alpha’s attention? That can’t be, because you hate the attention that other alphas give you when you’re out on your own.

You’re not sure what it is, but as your classes end and your free period rolls in, you ask him if he wants to eat his lunch with you, giddy when he agrees.

“Is that seriously all you’re eating?”

Eddie pulled his ladder up to your desk and sat on one of the steps with a single large can of snack pretzels in one hand and a can of off brand cola in the other. He looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights as you scold him for not bringing more to eat.

“Here,” you hand him a container of some leftover mac and cheese you made from the night before, “eat this please. I think I have a granola bar in my bag, too.”

“Woah, there, sweetheart,” he laughs as you start rifling through your bag. “I don’t need you to feed me. This has been my lunch since I was in middle school, so I’m set.”

You frown at him, not satisfied with the lackluster lunch he wanted to partake in. “What if I made you a lunch? Would you eat it?”

The rosy tint dusts his cheeks once again. A toothy grin spreads across his face as he gives you a shy side eye.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want your food to go to waste, but you really don’t have to worry about me.”

Wrong. The more you’re around him, the more you feel like you need to dote on him. You want to touch him, put your head on his shoulder, hold his hand. You want to go home with him and cook him dinner and wash his hair and have him hold you while the two of you sleep side by side in your shared bed. Every sweet word he says to you pulls you in like a fly to honey.

And when your hand accidentally brushes his, you both take in a deep breath at the same time, and you know he felt the same surge through his body as you. His gaze meets yours, chests raising and falling in anticipation as the two of you wait for the other to say something—do something.

But something doesn’t come, because the bell ringing once again makes the both of you jump, not realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Eddie jumps up from his seat on the ladder, grabbing his pitiful lunch and booking it out the door.

His sudden absence makes you sad, missing him more than you reasonably should. And as you sit alone, with the shuffling of feet outside your classroom creating a white noise that lets you slip into your mind, you can’t help but think about your life with David. 

He’s supposed to be your alpha. The one you’ve been with since high school since you both presented around the same time. He’s the only person you’ve ever been with, never really desiring anyone else but him before. He works a good job, bought a house for the both of you, and wants to have a family with you, the latter being the only thing the two of you never agreed on, not wanting kids despite the natural instincts of your second gender.

But, as you think about the man you laid eyes on this morning, who has made you feel more in the 4 total hours that you’ve known him than you’ve felt in the last decade with David, you think you’d give everything you have up to be with him. It scares the shit out of you to feel that way. It’s as if something has taken over your brain and completely rewired it to be all about Eddie. 

Maybe the afternoon away from him would give you time to clear your head. Putting all your mental effort into your remaining senior classes, you manage to keep your mind occupied for the most part. You swear that you can smell his scent every once in a while, but convince yourself that you’re just imagining it. 

As the final bell rings for the day, you plop down in your chair and just let yourself decompress. You begin to think maybe this job was something that was more than you’d be able to handle, that you’d bitten off more than you could chew. You’d been subbing for a year now, but this was the first time you’d ever been this overwhelmed after just a week. You could always go and talk to the principal now and let them know you wouldn’t be back on Monday. Someone else could deal with—

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. You roll your head to the side to find Eddie in your classroom's doorway once again. 

“Come to finish the job?” You ask tiredly.

“That’s one of the things I’m here for,” Eddie says with a nervous chuckle.

He takes long strides to your side, his hands in his pockets as his feet shuffle beneath him. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…I just wanted to know if, maybe, you’d like to go out with me sometime?”

 You’re completely caught off guard by his request. A warmth blooms in your chest before promptly sinking into your stomach, forming into a solid rock of guilt and confusion. 

“I…I’m sorry Eddie, I can’t.” You should probably put more effort into sounding sincere rather than disappointed. But your heart was truly distraught at having to turn him down. 

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s cool,” he stutters, trying to play it cool as he takes in your rejection. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, I just, um, I just thought we had some chemistry or something…”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the only one who thought that. But, I have a boyfriend— a fiance, rather, and I—”

“Hey, it’s cool, I understand,” he waves you off as he takes hurried steps backwards towards the door. “Just forget I asked. Um, I’ll see you around I guess.” He gives you a weak smile before backing out of the classroom and into the hall again. 

“Yeah, see you around,” you mutter to yourself. 

Before you could even fully turn the lock on your front door it was being yanked open, David standing on the other side of the door panting like he had just run a marathon. Without warning, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you inside of your shared home and something immediately feels off. 

The first thing you notice as you cross the threshold is that you can’t smell anything. The house has smelled like nothing but David’s musk since his rut started on Sunday, but now it just smells like your normal house. It doesn’t make sense, because he’s clearly going through it just as he was this morning. 

David’s nose scrunches when he finally gets close to you, almost immediately stumbling back against the wall to get as far away from you as possible. 

“What the fuck?” He scowls, looking you up and down with wild eyes. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Oh fuck. 

You were still wearing Eddie’s sweater. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say as you scramble to pull the sweater off, sneaking one last inhale as it lifts over your head. “I had an incident at school and one of my coworkers let me borrow his sweater.”

“You took clothes from another alpha?” David’s voice was uncharacteristically stern, likely from the adrenaline of his rut. He’d never been an angry man, even with his natural alpha tendencies, but the way he was looking at you right now made you feel real fear. 

“I needed something to cover myself—“

“You fucking reek,” he says hand flying over his nose to shield himself from the lingering smell of Eddie. 

The fear quickly turns into annoyance at his insult. You weren’t about to deal with this attitude he was giving you, so you rolled your eyes and pushed past him, making your way straight to the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

After taking your sweet time to wash away the stress of the day, you emerge from the bathroom feeling refreshed. You’re surprised to see David sitting on the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands only to run them through his hair as you enter the bedroom. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he blurts out, “I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You can tell he’s being genuine, and you can’t help but feel bad yourself. “I just, with the rut and everything, it makes me feel like the hulk when any little thing sets me off. And I’ve been feeling like shit all day while you were gone, so when you came home smelling like another alpha…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you coo as you take his face in your hands, the warmth of his fever hot against your palms. “I didn’t think about how it would have bothered you. I was going to give him the sweater back at the end of the day but—“ 

Thoughts of your day spent with Eddie floods back into your mind. The way that his presence made you feel whole, like a part of you that was missing all these years had appeared right in front of you and changed how you think about everything. It makes you realize that the sympathy you’re having for your fiance right now isn’t out of love, or guilt that you may have betrayed him. 

Rather, you feel as if you’re tending to a child that’s fallen on the playground. It’s nothing more than your natural instinct to nurture, to protect. Even more so, you realize it’s not love. 

“But…something came up and he left before I could give it back.”

He nods his head in your hands, letting out a small okay. You feel him pull at your hips, bringing you closer for him to rest his head on your stomach. You run your nails over his scalp, and he lets out little muffled moans against your towel in response. 

When he looks up at you, his pupils fully dilated and filled with hunger, you let him pull your towel from your body to gather around your feet on the floor. 

Your back hits the mattress and David is on you moments later. His kisses are soft, his gentle hands touching over all the right places that he’s grown to learn over the years of your relationship. 

He’s doing everything right, and yet you can’t help the nauseating feeling that curdles in your stomach with each passing second. Everything feels wrong. His touch is like poison, and your body is screaming at you to get as far away from him as possible. But you fight it down in hopes that this feeling will go away. 

It’s only when he aligns himself with your entrance that the feeling becomes too much. You pull away from him as quickly as you can and book it straight to the bathroom to empty your stomach contents into the toilet.

The bell rings out just as you finish up with your fourth period class.

“Don’t forget your first drafts are due at the beginning of class tomorrow!” You call out as the students collect their things and make their way to the halls. 

The loud rumbling in your stomach has you quickly taking your seat at your desk, opening the bottom drawer to pull out your lunch. Over the last month you’d come to understand that eating in your classroom was the best option for your sanity, because if any time you left the safety of your room, you were immediately overwhelmed by the scent of Eddie. 

The two of you had barely talked since you turned him down. You kept trying to return his sweater to him, but it seemed like he was actively avoiding you, even if his scent lingered on everything he touched in the whole school. 

You felt bad that things had become awkward between the two of you. There was nothing you wanted more than to talk to him. You missed him in a way that you still don’t understand. 

“Hey, there’s cupcakes in the break room if you want one.” Steve’s voice pulls you from your sulking. The mention of sweets has your ears perked. 

“Oooooooh, really? What’s the occasion?” You ask as you rise from your seat, excitedly meeting him at the door to walk with him. 

“Teacher appreciation week,” he says with air quotes. You both roll your eyes, just thankful to be getting something. 

As you make your way to the break room, the two of you talk about your classes and what your plans are for spring break next week.

“We’re finishing up the baby’s room,” he says with glee when you ask. “We picked a really nice green color the other day when we were out. Did I even tell you about that whole ordeal? How we ran into her ex at the department store?”

“What? No! What happened?”

You welcomed the distraction of Steve’s story as it helped keep your mind off of Eddie. After a month you’d thought that it wouldn’t be so strong, or that maybe you’d get used to it. But every passing day it seems like it gets worse.

Before you could follow Steve passed the threshold of the teachers lounge, Eddie’s scent becomes amplified to the point it stops you in your tracks. 

“Woah, are you okay?” He asks, taking a step towards you. You hadn’t even realized that you’d stopped moving, your arm outstretched against the wall to steady yourself.

“Y—yeah I…” You feel yourself sway, a sweat breaking out as your body temperature begins to creep higher. “It’s probably just a hot flash or something,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, “Had to switch my suppressants recently and they said that feeling hot could be a side effect.”

“Shit, let me get you some water or something—”

“Move.”

Before you can process what’s happening, you feel your body being lifted off your feet. When you look up to see who has swept you off your feet, you’re both surprised and relieved to be matching the gaze of two beautiful brown eyes, pupils blown out and almost swallowing their irises whole. You wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck instinctively, burying your face in his neck to inhale his scent. He shutters against you as you exhale into him.

You’re so overcome by his scent that you didn’t notice he had taken off with you until he’s shifting you in his grasp, holding you with one hand as he fumbles with his keys until he’s kicking open the door to…a closet?

He locks the door behind him and plops you down in a chair that sits in front of what you presume to be his desk. All around you are shelves of cleaning supplies, tools, and other random supplies that you’d not be surprised to be in possession of a custodian. On the wall behind the desk are a few band posters and a cork board littered with post it notes and work safety sheets.

“I can’t do this anymore.” 

Eddie’s frustrated statement grabs your attention as he stands in front of you, leaning back on the desk with a hand running through his hair. 

“Are you, like, punishing me for asking you out? Were you so repulsed by me asking you that you’re punishing me by driving me insane?”

It takes a moment for your brain to properly dissect what he’s asking you, the statement so bewildering to you that you honestly think he’s joking at first. But the hurt look on his face has you shifting forward in your seat, practically on the edge as you look up at him. 

“Eddie, no,” you plead with him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t offended at all…I don’t understand how I’m punishing you either.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes before meeting yours, “You’re joking. You’re telling me you haven’t been scenting around the school to get me worked up? I swear I can still smell you in my clothes when I leave at the end of the day. I figured that since you and Steve have gotten all buddy-buddy that you knew he was mark bonded and wouldn’t be able to smell you, so you’d just been freely scenting to fuck with me for the last month.”

“What? If anyone has been free scenting it’s you! I try not to leave my classroom if I don’t have to because I can smell you everywhere. Every day I have to book it straight to my desk because it’s so strong it makes me dizzy!”

The two of you are quiet for a moment, both huffing after yelling at one another, you still feeling like you’re in a haze in such close proximity to him now. He curses under his breath as he stands, pacing back and forth in front of you as he thinks.

“You’re making me nervous,” you state as you watch him move in front of you.

He stalls, turning his whole body towards you but keeping his eyes down. 

“I don’t understand,” he grits out, “I’m definitely not scenting, and you said you’re also not scenting, but I swear you’re the only thing that has any sort of effect on me anymore. The smell of my coffee in the morning isn’t as strong, the smell of the oil leaking from my van didn’t bother me when I fixed it. Hell, I cleaned up puke the other week and your scent made it easier to keep my own lunch down.”

“It’s the same for me…” He looks up at you. “All the smells, I’m going through the same thing…But something else has changed for me, too.” You think back over the events of the last month, “I don’t know why, but ever since that day…I can’t get you off of my mind. These little fantasies run through my head with everything I do. Like when I go to the store, I think about what foods you might like, or when I clean around the house I think about you coming home and telling me that I did a good job. Little things like that, that I never really even thought about with my ex. At least, not in the same way I think about you.”

“Ex?”

The tone of his voice has goosebumps running down your arms and legs. The room begins to feel heavy, similar to how it felt that day when he took control over the classroom. It felt like the air was being sucked out of your lungs and replaced with him. And every stride he took towards you felt like a bag of sand dropping on your back until you were struggling to look up at him as he moved in front of you, crouching down to eye level.

“What happened, sweetheart?” His voice is smooth like honey, pulling you in with his sweetness in a way that made you feel vulnerable. You couldn’t lie to him. Not Eddie.

“I couldn’t…he made me sick,” you start, “Every time we tried to…”

“Tried to what? Use your words.” The mix of his scent and the way he was talking to you was making the heat in your body travel straight to your core. 

“Anytime we tried to have sex, I would get sick. Even if I wanted to—”

“Did you really want to, though?” His head tilts to the side as he questions you, “Or were you just trying and failing to get me out of your head?”

Your body sways, his words have you feeling dizzy because he’s right. All of a sudden your clothes felt too tight, and the room was too hot, and you just wanted those big, strong arms back on your body. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, whenever I was with my ex, I wished it was you. But—but, not enough to make me sick. I don’t know why, it’s like my body was rejecting him.”

It’s silent besides your heavy breathing for a moment. Eddie stands once more, towering over you as he places his palm gently on your cheek. You instantly lean into his touch, humming in satisfaction as his leaves gentle caresses on your skin.

“I’m, uh, having the opposite problem,” he says with a hint of embarrassment. “I feel like I can’t…satisfy myself, but I’m constantly worked up whenever I think about you. Fucking my fist multiple times a day wishing it was your pussy instead.”

His thumb glides across your cheek, landing on your bottom lip and pulling it down before letting it snap back into place. Your lips part slightly in response, an open invitation for his thumb to push its way in, which he gladly accepts. He pushes it as far in as it can go, watching as you hollow your cheeks and suck on the digit before he pulls it out with a pop. 

“F-f-f-f-fuuuck,” he breathes out through gritted teeth. He grips your cheeks, not too rough, but enough to make your lips pout as he tilts your head back to look up at him.

Eddie searches your face for any signs of discomfort, but is only met with the half lidded, fucked out look your giving him through your lashes, brain completely empty as you wait for him make his next move.

Fireworks erupt under your skin as his chapped lips crash into yours with enough force to push you back in your chair. Every cheesy rom-com that you’ve ever watched finally made sense as you felt the electricity light strike in your abdomen and back through every vein in your body. This was what you’d been waiting for in every other kiss that you’ve experienced in your life. 

And, all at once, the sparks peak, before surging straight between your legs, a wave of slick gushing from you and soaking the seat below. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, looking at your lap with a pained expression. Meanwhile, your eyes are locked on the ever growing bulge in his work pants, drool pooling in your mouth as his blue jeans strain from the size of him. 

He lunges towards you, mouth agape to meet with yours before the sound of the bell stops either of you in your tracks. You hear a crack next to your head that makes you jump. When you look you see that Eddie has cracked the wood of the chair with his bare hands, muscles and veins popping from the strain. 

“Eddie—“

“Don’t go,” he begs, his voice low and gravely, “I can’t let you go again. I need you.”

He sounds so pathetic. All the still working parts of your brain start to go hazy at his groveling. He needs you. And you need him. 

The shrill sound of the phone ringing on his desk pulls Eddie away from you with a huff. His eyes don't leave you as he picks up the receiver, growling “what” to whoever was on the other line. 

As he listens, though, Eddie’s brows lift in surprise, followed by a Cheshire grin. “Consider us even then,” he says into the phone before he slams it back down. 

“W-who was that?”

He lets out a chuckle. He sauntered over to you with a dark look in his eyes, leaning in until he’s barely an inch from your face. 

“That was our good friend, Steve. He said he let the principal know you had to go home sick and got someone to cover your classes.”

Your breath hitched. Your mind was a whirl of everything Eddie you had almost forgotten that you still had classes to teach. You try to take a mental note to thank Steve later, hoping it doesn’t get lost in your mind.

“If that’s what you want, anyway. Could always go back to class—”

You surge forward, lips meeting his in a fevered kiss. “No, no,” you murmur against his lips, fingers tangling in his curls, “want you, Eddie. Don’t make me go back.”

What you don’t expect is to feel his hands grip you under the fat of your ass and lift you up from the chair. He turns the both of you around, using one hand to knock the things off of his desk before placing you on top of it with a squeak from you on impact, all the while his lips glued to yours. 

His hands make quick work with the buttons on your blouse and he moves down your neck, leaving kisses and little bruises across your skin. 

You feel him slotting between your legs, your pencil skirt riding up so his hard length could press against your clothed pussy. The denim of his jeans turn dark as slick continues to soak through your panties, your hips bucking against him as the familiar ache of your heat senses what you need only a few pieces of fabric away. 

As soon as Eddie opens your blouse, he’s ripping the cups of your bra with a force that causes your whole body to move, making your tit bounce in recoil.

“Of course they’d be perfect,” he groans, pulling back, completely enamored at the sight of you before him. His big hands grab and kneads at the flesh, taking your nipples between his fingers and rolling them. Your back arches as the sensation, and the drag of your sensitive clit against the denim only makes you moan louder.

Eddie pushes himself into you more, reveling in the feeling of you grinding against him and soaking his leg. He takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks, letting his tongue swirl around it. 

It’s all too much, your head spinning as everything seems amplified under his touch. Your hands scramble to grab the hem of his shirt, pulling the black polo and flimsily attempt to pull it off of him. You feel him grin against the skin of your breast before pulling off with a pop. 

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Eddie asks as he pulls the shirt over his head, as if he isn’t using every ounce of self control to keep him from completely devouring you. He wants to sink his teeth into you and never let go, but he can’t scare you off, not when he’s finally got you exactly how he wants you. 

Your mouth drops as his body is revealed to you. His slim, but built frame littered with tattoos you would never know he had unless you were to get him like this. Your eyes trail down his chest, his abdomen, all the way down to where his happy trail leads beneath his jeans. The urge to run your fingers through it takes over, your pointer and middle finger dragging from his belly button until they catch on his belt buckle, his stomach flexing under your touch. 

You grab at his belt, pulling him towards you until you can get a good enough grip to undo it, pulling down his pants until they drop to the floor with a thud. The boxers that remain sport a very large tent in them, and you swear you can see him twitching under your gaze.

His head falls back as your hand gently glides over him, rubbing the fabric into his leaky tip more, expanding the wet patch that was already forming there. Eddie watches you bring your fingers to your mouth to taste the sticky mess that you collected, your body going boneless when it hits your tongue. It’s like nothing that’s ever graced your taste buds before, making your eyes roll back in your head as your body craves for more. 

Watching the way you react to him is Eddie’s final straw. His vision tunnels, completely focused on you as the primal part of his brain takes control. Suddenly, he’s pushing you back down into the desk, manhandling you as he tears through your pantyhose, ripping your panties in half until your bare pussy is on display for him. 

Ducking down without warning, he spreads your legs apart and runs his thick, long tongue through your sopping folds. He inhales your scent, the bulb of his nose bumping into your clit in a way that sends zings of pleasure throughout your body. The tip of his tongue pushes its way into your hole, the thick muscle reaching as far as it can to lap up your sweet nectar from the source. Your hands fly to the top of his head, gripping tightly in an attempt to anchor yourself to this plane of existence while your orgasm rips through you. His name falls from your lips over and over as your vision goes white, blinding you with pleasure.

When you come back to your body you feel his hot breath fanning across your cheek, wet lips pressing into the side of your neck as he whispers sweet words into your ear.

“There she is,” he says once your eyes flutter open, “That feel good, pretty girl?” 

You nod your head dumbly, making him chuckle. 

“Can I make you feel like that again? Wanna make you feel so good on my cock, sweetheart. Don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

You feel the way he’s rubbing his tip through your folds, hand gripping at the base with all the self restraint in the world. The precum leaking from his tip mixing with your own slick creating a sticky mess between your lips. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you beg, canting your hips to match his movements, gasping when his head catches on your entrance.

That’s all Eddie needs to hear. Lining up with your entrance, he pushes his way into you. The stretch is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. David was an alpha, so naturally he was big, but this? You could feel every ridge and vein of Eddie’s cock as he buried himself deeper inside you. The way his tip pressed against your cervix sent a fresh wave of arousal through you and all over Eddie’s desk.

There was barely time to adjust before Eddie was pistoning in and out of you. His hands white knuckle the skirt still sitting at your waist, using it as leverage to keep you in place while he fucks into your tight cunt. Your hands scramble to find something to hold on to, ultimately settling on Eddie’s forearms as your whole body shakes with each thrust. 

“Ohhhh fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you moan in tandem with every movement. Your brain gone, completely replaced with Eddie and never wanting this to end. 

“Fuck, Eddie, please.”

“What is it, baby girl? What does my girl need?” 

Hearing his voice, the way he calls you his girl lights a fire in your belly. You’d take anything he would give you right now. Anything he wants from you, you’d give him. 

“Want yo-o-o-o-ou,” you pant, “Oh, fuck! Want you so bad!”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Eddie leans down, his lips pressing into yours tenderly. You wrap your arms around his neck, pinning him to you until he gets the hint, letting his body weight press into you until you’re chest to chest. His tempo slows down to a sensual drag in and out. One hand grabs at your leg, bending it forward to open you up for him more. He feels impossibly deep inside of you as his head bullies that spot deep inside you.

“Is this what you needed, princess? Just needed me to get closer to you?” His face is pressed into your cheek, eyes threatening to close as he feels his resolve lessening with each passing moment that he’s inside you. But he needs you to come undone on his cock one more time before he can let go.

“Yes, thank you, thank you, Eddie, mmmmm,” the words fall from your mouth with no thought, your only focus on the pleasure that’s building up inside you. Your walls clenching around Eddie’s cock like a vice as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

But, in tandem with your imminent orgasm, the dull ache inside you grows as well, blooming with a need that’s almost painful to bear. 

“Eddie.”

The breathy, desperate tone in your voice has Eddie pulling back just enough to look at you. A picture of almost pure lust, say for the concerning pinch in your brows. 

“I know, you’re so close, baby. Can feel you gripping me so tight,” he coos down at you. But you shake your head, trying your best to meet his eyes as you try to speak, willing him to just know what you want.

“Want it. Want it. Want it,” is all you can muster out.

“What do you want, baby girl?”

“Knot. Knot, please.”

Eddie’s movements still immediately, making you whine. He straightens up completely, looking down at you darkly, his frizzy curls a wild halo around his head as it blocks the light above. 

He takes a deep breath in, nostrils flaring on the exhale, “You know what’ll happen if I do that, right? I’m not on anything that would stop—”

“Yes!” You cry, too frustrated and needy for him to move again that you begin moving on your own, fucking yourself on his cock. “Eddie, I want it so bad! Please, wanna be your girl. Want everyone to know I’m your girl.”

Before you can react, Eddie is grabbing you and flipping you over on his desk, almost knocking his computer down in the process. Only a moment later do you feel him pushing back into you with one quick thrust. His hand wraps around the back of your throat, not tight, but enough to keep you pinned down for him as he fucks you. There’s no purpose to his thrusts other than to chase his own high, but the brutal fuck and anticipation of whats to come is enough to finally push you past that breaking point. 

The sound of your slick hitting the floor beneath you and the impossible grip your cunt has on his cock has Eddie following not far behind you. Just as you feel his hips falter, you feel a pressure building inside you, pushing at your walls until they’ve reached their limit. It’s painful, until it’s not. Quickly turning into an overwhelming pleasure, you feel yourself cumming again in quick succession as you feel the hot ropes of Eddie’s spend hit your cervix, filling you with an endless stream and then some. 

The pressure of Eddie’s body folding limply on top of you feels amazing, the skin to skin soothing you as your still hazy mind craves him. You feel his lips on your shoulder, trailing kisses across your back until he reaches the center, just below the base of your neck. You fully expected him to continue on, simply loving on your body as you wait for him to fully finish.

What you weren’t expecting was for his teeth to sink into the skin of your scent gland. The feeling of his teeth on you is startling, and for a moment you think about your high school health class, where your teacher told you that when you bond with an alpha it would feel like the chemistry of your brain would change. There would be an instant shift that would change everything and, and…you feel nothing.

Well, not nothing. Being wrapped up in Eddie feels like being wrapped up in a blanket by a fire on a cold winter night, like warm water on sore muscles after a long day. It feels like the pieces of the puzzle have all fallen into place. It’s not big or loud, rather, it feels like home. He feels like home. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie’s voice comes out muffled against your skin, his lips still pressed against your neck before he starts to rub his face over the gland. 

“Mhmm,” you purr, moving your hand to lace over his on the desk, the cool metal of his rings a stark contrast to your hot skin. “M’back’s a little sore, though,” you say as you can feel your body starting to ache from the position you’re in. 

Eddie pushes off of you quickly, almost pulling you with him as his shaky legs threaten to fold from how quickly he moved.

You push off of his desk like a cat stretching after a nap, shivers running down your spine as the shift presses Eddie’s still hard cock further inside you.

“Does it hurt?”

You look over your shoulder to see Eddie mesmerized on the way his knot has you over stuffed, feeling the resistance when your bodies tug apart. 

The wide eyed look on his face lights the flame in your belly again. Eyes still on him, you start to rock back and forth slowly on him. You’re barely moving with your limited range, but the way he sucks in his breath at the feeling only fans the flames in you more. 

“It doesn’t hurt,” you say in a sultry voice, catching his attention now. “Have you never knotted anyone before, Eddie?”

Brown curls bounce as he shakes his head. He swallows thickly, “N-no, I haven’t.” 

You moan out at his confession, clenching down on him. And he whimpers, eyes clenched shut as you continue to gently rock against him.

“H-have you ever been knotted before?”  He’s panting now. Standing completely still as he watches you fuck yourself on his cock. 

You lean against the desk in front of you, the edge hitting your clit just right as you start to grind against it. “Only once,” you say between huffs, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge again. “It didn’t feel this good, though, fuck.”

“Oh, god—“ Eddie’s hands grip at your hips to still your movements, and you can feel a fresh wave of his cum spilling into your already stuffed cunt. The pressure pushes you over the edge with him, a silent scream on your lips as your body shakes in his grip. 

He’s panting like he ran a marathon with a bruising grip still on your hips. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, but when he does, he’s wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him. 

You yelp as he sits back in the chair and situates you in his lap. You’re able to turn your body on his knot, curling into him so your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in. Calloused fingers run up and down your thigh soothingly, leaving tingles in their wake. 

“Eddie?” You’re the first to break the silence. His head shifts your way, but his eyes are still trained on where his fingers dance on your skin. 

“Hmm?”

“When you bit me, did you feel…anything?”

The corners of his lips curl into a smile, like you had just told him a joke or something. 

“Nah,” he said with a chuckle. You almost felt as if he was making fun of you, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout. 

“Oh, what’s this face for, hmm?” He grabs your face and pretends to bite at it, making you laugh as you turn away from him. 

“Stoooop,” you whine, but your cheeks start to ache with how hard you’re smiling. “Are you making fun of me?”

“What? Why would I make fun of you?”

“Because I was being serious when I asked you about the bite! They always told us that it’s this huge deal to bond with someone so I thought it was going to be like New Year's Day in my mind or something!”

“Are you saying I didn’t totally blow your mind just now—OW!” 

You bite Eddie's shoulder playfully, giggling and kicking as he tries to get his revenge by tickling your side.

“Okay! Okay! You totally blew my mind! I give!”

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he lands a quick peck to your lips, making you feel giddy at the contact. “But I promise I’m not laughing at you. I’m just…” 

He looks down for a moment before meeting your gaze again with a look a lot less playful than just a moment ago. 

“Okay, I’m going to need you to hear me out on this, alright?” 

You nod, giving him your undivided attention as he speaks.

“So, like, I don’t know if you would even remember, but that day when we met, when I first saw you I heard these, like, bells ringing in my ears. And not like when your ears ring after listening to loud music, but, like, little chimes or something. At the time I didn’t think anything about it, but when I talked to Steve and my friend Nancy about it later, they told me that they heard the same thing when they had marked their partners.”

Your eyes go wide, heart fluttering in your chest.

Because you remember hearing bells so clearly when you saw him, too.

But how could that be?

“I know,” he says, reading the disbelief on your face, “It didn’t make sense to me either. So, Nancy, she’s really smart by the way, you’ll love her. She went and found some older books on, like, alpha and omega couples that talked about this thing called soul bonding? It’s supposed to happen when two people that are meant to be together like, imprint on each other and basically they can’t be with anyone else—” 

Oh.

Oh.

His voice trails off, coming to the same realization as you. 

“Do you think—”

“Yes,” you respond without a second thought. “It makes so much sense. The smells, everything with David, why I can’t stop thinking about you—Fuck, I’ve only been able to get myself off if I’m wearing your sweater!”

Eddie twitches inside you again, his face a bright red at your admission.

“You’ve been wearing my sweater?” He teases with a raised brow. You nod, not seeing any point in lying about it now.

“I like to sleep in it,” you say as you snuggle into him more, “It feels like I’m sleeping with your arms around me.”

“Mmmm, I think I could do you one better. How ‘bout I let you experience that first hand?”

“You don’t think this is too soon, do you?

Eddie places a box labeled “work clothes” on top of his nightstand, reaching a hand out for you to hand him another hanger from the pile on top of his bed—now both of your bed, as he continues to hang your clothes for you.

“Sweetheart,” he sing-songs to you, “how is this going to be any different than the last two months?”

Since your first encounter in his office at work, the two of you have been attached at the hip ever since. You’d spent almost every night at his trailer, only staying at your parents house once to watch their dog while they went out of town for the weekend. 

The chemistry between you and Eddie felt unreal at times, like you were going to wake up from a dream and he would be gone. Outside of his work clothes, some may say he looked a little intimidating, but he was the biggest sweetheart you’ve ever met. And when you got to meet his uncle, Wayne, a few weeks ago, you could tell where he got his chivalry from.

“I know, it’s just all so new for me,” you sigh, falling back onto the bed with a huff.

“It’s new for me, too, but in a good way.” You could hear his smile even with his back turned to you. “Besides, this place could use a little feminine touch.” 

He turns to face you, taking one big step to bump his legs into yours.

“No kidding, it looked like a college dorm in here,” you say with an eye roll, thinking about the mismatched furniture and band posters he had taped to the wall.

“Well, this college dorm is about to graduate, move on to bigger and better things in life.”

“Like being baby proofed?”

Eddie hums, lowering himself down onto his knees in front of you. You prop yourself up, shifting your legs apart so he can settle himself between them, arms wrapping around your middle as his head rests on your tummy. 

“I’m glad Wayne talked me into getting a two bedroom when I was looking around. I thought all I’d ever need was enough for me, but I guess the universe works in mysterious ways,” he says the last part with exaggerated mysticism, and you tug at his hair playfully at his unseriousness. 

“Mmm, baby do that again.”

“Oh, my god, whatever.” You roll your eyes, thinking he’s being playful, but the bedroom eyes and parted lips say otherwise. 

And soon after his hips are rolling into yours. Sweaty bodies intertwined as he splits you open, your heightened senses from the pregnancy hormones making it so easy for Eddie to keep you cumming for him. 

“Come on baby, you got one more for me?”

“Can feel you squeezin’ me.”

“That’s my good girl.”

And you cum again and again and again, losing track as Eddie’s thumb works on your clit in sync with his thrusts. 

He wishes he could do this forever. Watching you fall apart on his cock has to be the greatest thing he’s ever witnessed. His eyes land on your non-existent bump, imagining how big it's going to look in just a few months with his baby inside you.

“Can’t wait til you get all big, sweetheart. Gonna show you off everywhere we go,” he picks up speed, his rhythm starting to falter, “Want everyone to know you’re mine, always. Gotta keep you like this. Keep you pregnant so no one— oooooooh fuck! So no one takes you from me.”

“All yours, Eddie,” you babble out, completely brainless, “Love you. Only you.”

“Haaaahh, shit,” his head rolls back, and you can feel him cumming deep inside you. His hips slow down to a stop before he’s pulling out and landing on his back next to you.

You’re immediately cuddling up next to him, your head raising up and down against his chest. His arm curls around you, pulling you into him more so he can kiss the top of your head.

“I love you, too, by the way.”

You snap your head to look at him. “What?”

“You said “love you,” and I’m saying I love you too.”

“I did?”

“Did you not mean it?’

He looks down at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. But you don’t really have to think too hard to come up with the answer.

“Yeah, I love you.”

thank you for reading.

[badomensbaby]

rules of the road. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: finally getting your driver's license after moving to the big city for college, you're a bit stunned by your dorky, charming driving instructor.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, praise kink, mommy kink, car sex, safe sane and consensual, explicit sexual content. (driving instructor! luke, racecar driver! luke)

words: 6,307

a/n: one beautiful evening, as i was driving home with a frosty from wendy's balanced in my lap, i saw a student driver vehicle and i was like! hm! what if... and then this kind of happened. i tried to keep a keen eye while editing but if there's an error, feel free to let me know! <3

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

You weren't a typically nervous person.

Growing up in a town where you practically had to just figure it out on your own, nothing really got under your skin. Not tractor maintenance nor harvest schedules, or that nasty little wasp's nest in the cattle barn in the spring.

But tests, those were a different story.

From college entrance exams to applying for your driver's license, those were the types of tests that made your heart race and your palms clam up. Because it was the unknown that bothered you so much. The unfamiliarity.

And, sprinkle in the fact that you'd left the family farm to pursue a college degree into the mix and every worry's been increased tenfold. As the baby of the family, first daughter behind a handful of rowdy, hard-working boys, being the first of your household to attend college was a serious milestone. You could only hope to make your parents and siblings proud.

But moving to the big city meant learning to drive. Well, legally. You've spent countless hours in your father's farm truck or your grandfather's tractor, you weren't necessarily inexperienced when it came to driving but you've never really been surrounded by other drivers. Just gravel roads and grassy two-tracks and your bothers dirt bikes.

The initial exam, a knowledge test about road signs and rules, wasn't too bad. They'd given you a practice test and a helpful guide booklet when you'd arrived at your appointment. It felt odd, being just barely twenty years old and taking a driver knowledge exam alongside kids barely pushing sixteen. You felt behind but it wasn't your fault.

Nerves didn't erupt in your stomach until the kind lady in the Secretary of State's office informed you that you'd be taking an on-road driver skills test. An instructor will watch you, quiz you, and grade you accordingly and if you fail, you can kiss your ability to drive legally goodbye until you pass.

Now that makes you nervous. Like there's ravenous butterflies swarming your stomach. You're already under a lot of pressure with fall classes starting soon and your part-time job, now you're worried about passing your driver's exam. The lady assured you there's nothing to fret over, that the instructor you've been assigned is well versed in the rules of the road and he's a total sweetheart.

Waiting in the parking lot wasn't the worst part. You were told he'd arrive shortly, a man named Mr. Hemmings, in one of the contracted company's instructing vehicles. Plastered with bright yellow stickers along the back, just shouting to everyone on the road that you're an inexperienced driver so take it easy.

Expecting some middle aged, married, grumpy man with nothing positive to say, the nerves weren't so bad as you basked in the moderate heat of the Michigan summer sun. Your phone pings a few times, a slew of good lucks and you've got this! from your family members. You don't even realize there's a stark white Toyota Camry pulling up to the curb until the scuff of shoes on the asphalt catches your attention.

"Y/N L/N?" A thick, low voice questions. A text message to your eldest brother sits unfinished beneath your thumbs, lips parting with shock. There's no bald patch or flat tire sticking out beneath his shirt, hell it barely looks like he's wearing a shirt at all because the white fabric is so snug and pulled taught over his abdomen and chest and arms that it's absolutely ludicrous. "Y/N?" he repeats.

"Yeah- yeah, that's me," You hesitantly stand, shoving your phone in the pocket of your jeans before brushing your now clammy hands along your thighs. His eyes flicker between the clipboard in his hand and you, shamelessly raking up and down your frame before clearing his throat.

"Great," His lips twist into a wide, toothy smile, shoulders seemingly relaxing at the confirmation. His stance laxes, nodding his head of bouncy, golden curls towards the vehicle that's idling behind him. "Why don't we go ahead and get started?"

You nod, swallowing the thick lump forming in your throat, hardly maintaining eye contact with the instructor as you climb into the driver's seat and watch him awkwardly fit himself into the seat beside you. "Okay," He blows out a breath. "I'm Mr. Hemmings but you can just call me Luke, it's easier and nobody likes saying a long name especially if you're in a panic."

You barely manage a short, clipped laugh. "Rad. Anyway, we're gonna be in here for the next hour or so. I'm mainly here to make sure you understand vehicle safety and that you're prepared to operate this beauty on your own," With a laugh, Mr. Hemmings taps the dashboard with his palm. "Well, not this beauty obviously, but you get my point. Oh! And I have break pedals over here just in case. I haven't used them yet this month so please don't put us in a situation where I might need to."

He's funny, you'll admit. In a dorky, charming kind of way. He hasn't stopped smiling the entire time and you're curious if he's just that way in general or if it's a front because he probably deals with some right idiots when it comes to being an instructor. "You're quiet."

"Sorry," You mumble, hands still folded in your lap. "I'm just a bit nervous."

"There's really no need," he assures you, turning in his seat with an excited smile. "If you've passed your vision and knowledge tests then this is like, a cakewalk. Have you driven before?"

"Yeah, back home," You tell him. "Mostly just old trucks, though. I don't think I've ever driven a proper car."

"Cool, car virgin. I like that," Luke turns his attention back to the clipboard, scribbling something that you're unable to make out because it's complete chicken scratch. "Well, why don't we get going so we can stay on track."

"Okay," You breathe out, clasping the seatbelt over your lap. Under your breath, you rattle off the first steps of safety before your hands ever touch the steering wheel. Seatbelt, check. Rearview mirror, check. Side mirrors, check. When everything seems as it should, you rest one hand on the wheel before shifting the vehicle into drive, peering out of the passenger's side mirror to ensure no cars are coming up behind you in the lot.

Luke stays silent, observing you, pen hovering over his checklist sheet. As you head towards the exit, you realize you have absolutely no clue where you're meant to go. "Uhh-"

"Take a left here," Luke tells you. Signaling, you check both ways for any oncoming traffic before exiting the parking lot, keeping an eye on the speed limit signs posted on the side of the road. "And at the next light, hang a right. We'll follow that through downtown and then get you on the highway for a bit."

Nodding, you try to keep yourself composed and not let the nerves get to you as you follow his instruction. You make sure to slow down appropriately as you cruise through the city's downtown area, briefly taking in the brick buildings and shops as you pass.

The vehicle's air is a little stiff, a little warm underneath the summer sun and you're considering asking Luke if he can turn the air on but he's too busy drumming his fingertips along his bare thigh to really pay you any mind. You'd always heard that driving instructors were very observant, overly cautious and very strict about everything but Luke's so laid back it's slowly beginning to relieve your nerves.

"Would you mind turning on the air?" Luke asks, eyes soft and kind when you glance over at him. You're just trekking along behind other vehicles, following signs for the highway that's still a few miles out. It's probably one of the things on his checklist, for you to tinker with something and hope it doesn't distract you enough to cause any accidents.

Glancing at the various knobs, luckily they're standard and simple, similar to your father's truck so pressing two buttons quickly has cool air flowing into the car. You feel a little more at ease, less of an iron grip on the steering wheel. "You're doing great, by the way." Luke chimes in.

"Thanks," You keep an eye on the Jeep that keeps randomly breaking in front of you, easing off of the accelerator when applicable. You weren't a newbie when it came to driving itself, just following the actual road laws and learning the flow of traffic. "I need to turn right up here?" You ask.

Luke hums with a nod. He's began muttering some tune under his breath along with his finger-drumming, as if he isn't remotely worried about you merging onto the highway. Picking up speed, you join alongside the few cars rumbling along the road. "We'll take this to the next town over, about thirty minutes, then we'll head back and do a few simple maneuvers and that's it."

You nod, fighting the urge to sigh. Who knew your road test would be so boring? There's no music, just the sound of your tires on the asphalt and Luke's low humming. "Why'd you decide to become an instructor? Isn't it- well, boring?"

A slow chuckle slips out of your instructor's mouth, elbow perched on the door, hand clasped against the side of his face. "It's not all boring, I swear. I just like helping people become confident drivers. You'd be surprised how many students I've had that are too terrified to even start the engine."

"You're pretty laid back, it's definitely making me less nervous," You laugh softly, keeping your eyes on the empty road. "Helps that you're not bad looking either."

Shit, you weren't meant to say that.

In your peripheral, you can see Luke squirm slightly in his seat, instantly worrying that you've made him uncomfortable. You're about to retract your statement and apologize but the grin that overtakes his pink lips stops you. "Thank you," he says honestly, his tone a little strained. "So are you. I mean, I wouldn't say not bad looking, you're pretty- like quite pretty- and okay, is it a little warm in here? Jeez."

You stifle a laugh at his nervous rambling. It's cute, kind of refreshing, too. But a weight settles in your stomach because no, you absolutely cannot think your driving instructor is cute. Doesn't that cross some kind of line? Break a rule? It has to. "So- are you uh.. getting your driver's license to.. drive to your boyfriend's house orr.."

Oh god, he's also pretty damn terrible at flirting. Normally, you'd find it cringey and a tad obnoxious but it's cute on him. Adorable, even, because he's definitely a handful of years older than you but he flusters so easily it makes your confidence soar.

There's nothing wrong with indulging in it, is there? It's not like you're gonna fuck him on the side of the highway or anything.

"No boyfriend," You keep a straight face, like you're intently focused on the billboards you pass by. "Or girlfriend." You tack on, just to see him flounder a little more.

"Oh- yeah, rad," Luke nods a few times. "That's- yeah, okay, cool."

God, he's so fucking cute. How'd you get so damn lucky to have him as an instructor?

Luke's tapping the window ledge aimlessly, almost looking uncomfortable but not with you, like something's gnawing at him. "Hey, can you pull off at this rest stop for a minute? I need to- uh- bathroom. Yeah."

"Sure." You signal off, slowing down as you near the small building, only a few cars scattered in the parking lot. Luke quickly unbuckles himself and slips out of the car, almost too fast for you to realize there's a tent in his shorts. Well, fuck.

You've never really been the hook-up type in the past, coming from such a small town there's slim pickings when you know everyone's faults. Only when your family would travel up to Mackinac Island or down to Kalamazoo to visit family would you end up fooling around with some local for an afternoon but that didn't happen very often.

Though the circumstances aren't ideal, there's obviously some kind of attraction on both sides. Probably just some silly short-term infatuation and who knows what's running through Luke's mind. But he's hot, there's no denying that, and guilt tugs at your chest because he's here to do a job and you're just being a massive distraction.

Luke returns about fifteen minutes later, a little flushed in the face but there's this look he's sporting that looks nothing short of pure bliss. You're not stupid, you can recognize a post-orgasm haze from a million miles away.

God, did he really get off in a public rest stop bathroom? What the hell was he so worked up over? You bite back any inappropriate questions lingering on your tongue as he buckles himself in and you merge back onto the highway.

Luke doesn't say a word until it's time to circle back. He's quiet, too quiet, thrumming his fingers against his knee in a rhythm you aren't able to recognize. You decide to go the exact speed limit, setting the cruise control and waiting for Luke to ask why you've done that but no such comment comes.

"You okay?" You finally ask. The two of you are trapped in here for at least another thirty minutes on the highway alone, then likely another twenty or thirty around town after that. The silence isn't deafening but it's making you a little uneasy.

"Me? Yeah- I'm great. Fantastic, actually. Why wouldn't I be? Nothing's wrong. Everything's peachy." The instructor rambles.

Something's definitely wrong. You're not a very confrontational person but you'd rather have whatever issue at hand out in the open than let it linger silently the remainder of your test. "Luke-"

As you're getting his attention, the car begins to splutter. Numerous lights illuminate the dashboard, a loud rumbling sound making the steering wheel shake beneath your hands. Immediately, Luke begins to press on the emergency instructor's breaks and with some guidance, he helps you pull off on the shoulder just as the engine dies.

Not believing the sight before you, you turn to Luke, who's equally as shocked and silent, both of your chests heaving. "What the hell?" You ask aloud.

"I have no clue," Luke says frantically. "The car's been running fine all day. There weren't any warning lights, were there?"

Truthfully, you don't remember. "I don't.. think so? All of them lit up before it crapped out."

"Shit," Luke curses lowly. "Let me see if I can figure out what's going on."

Luke slips out of the Camry, leaving his clipboard behind. You hear him yell, muffled, "Pop the hood!" And you do, after taking a second to find the button with your shaky fingers.

The longer Luke is beneath the hood the longer you worry. It's an early Thursday evening, on a fairly quiet highway, and the likelihood that some passerby is going to offer assistance is slim. Plus, tow trucks in this area only operate within a ten mile radius, so it's unlikely you'll find one for a reasonable price if the car is toast.

This is what you get for thinking he's cute, your brain tosses at you. You know it isn't true but it's kind of ironic, isn't it?

Luke slips back inside the car. "Well, one of the hoses broke," He sighs, digging through the pockets of his shorts in search of his cellphone. "So the car won't start even if we wanted it to. We'll have to call a tow truck."

"Of course this would happen during my driving exam," You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as a low, frustrated groan crawls up your throat. "Just my luck."

"I probably shouldn't include the fact that I have no service then, should I?"

Your eyes pry open. "What?" You ask, finding your phone and sure enough, no fucking signal. "Seriously? We're on the damn highway, not in the middle of the ocean!"

"Hey, we'll be fine," Luke rests his hand momentarily on your shoulder and you try to ignore the goosebumps rising on your skin. Sheepishly, he pulls it away. "I'll see if I can make an emergency call to highway patrol."

"Please do," You mumble weakly.

Your father would have a field day if he could see you. Barely a week into living away from them and you're stranded on the side of the highway with a hot driving instructor. What a joke.

With no luck, Luke groans, tossing his phone onto the dashboard. "My phone died," he says. "Can you call on yours?"

"Yeah," You dial using your phone's emergency function, only to be met with CALL FAILED in big letters. "How the hell can an emergency call fail?"

"Okay, well at least we've both probably eaten recently and I keep snacks in the trunk," You toss a glare towards the blonde, not finding his statement remotely relieving at all. "What? Teenagers get grumpy so I always have granola bars on hand."

"So we're stuck," You sigh softly. Luke nods, hands toying with one another. "Until I get signal or someone passing by takes pity on us."

"I'm sorry Y/N," Luke says quietly. "About- about all of this. I really had no idea, this car's never given me any problems."

"It's not your fault," You glance over at him, noticing his lower lip tucked between his teeth. "I'm gonna walk a bit and see if I can get signal, alright?"

"You shouldn't go alone," Luke says, a bit rushed. "I mean, not that you aren't capable or anything because I'm sure you are - female empowerment and all that I just- uh-"

"Just stay here," You say, a little clipped. You aren't upset with him, just the situation. "I'll be right back."

Luke swallows thickly, blue eyes wide. "Yes m'am."

You slip out of the car and begin walking along the shoulder, grass and gravel crunching beneath your feet, checking your cellphone every few seconds in hopes that a signal will appear. A big fat SOS stares back at you, practically mocking you.

After ten or so minutes, you aren't sure how far you've walked but you can't see the Camry anymore. You know it'll cool off soon as the sun begins to set and it'll be best if you're somewhere safe. Regretfully, you head back to the car to find Luke scribbling on his clipboard in the passenger seat.

"Nothing," You say, checking your phone once more, noticing it's been about thirty minutes since you've pulled off the road. "What're you drawing over there?"

"Just doodling," He says, showing you a mix of scribbles along the bottom of your driving checklist. "What else am I supposed to do? We're stuck for the time being."

"Yeah, you're right."

It's silent for a few minutes, aside from Luke's been inking the checklist. "We could.. play a game, maybe? Something to keep our minds off of.. y'know, the whole car breaking down thing."

"What kind of game?" You ask.

"Oh- uh, twenty questions?" Luke offers.

You snort. Twenty questions is for horny teenagers, not two almost-strangers stuck in a broken down vehicle on the side of the highway. "Guess that's a no."

"What about what are the odds?" You suggest. "I played it all the time with my soccer friends, it's pretty fun."

"Okay," Luke agrees. "You'll have to explain the rules to me, though."

You sit up a little straighter, a smile unknowingly tugging at your lips. Maybe there's an ulterior motive ping-ponging in the back of your mind. Maybe.

"It's really easy. One of us says something like 'what are the odds that you'll make an embarrassing noise', then pick a number in your head, and on the count of three we'll both say a number and if it's the same the other person has to do that thing. Make sense?"

"I think I've got it," Luke nods, turning in his seat with excited eyes. He looks fucking adorable. You shake your head, getting comfortable in the seat. "Okay, can I go first?"

"Go for it."

"Okay- uh, what are the odds that you'll.. you'll- tell me something about yourself?"

That's not quite it but a good start, Luke.

"One through fifteen." You say. "Three.. two... one.."

"Ten."

"Twelve."

"Ah, shit," Luke frowns. "I don't think I'm very good at this."

"You'll get the hang of it," You tap his knee with the back of your hand without a thought, watching his cheeks twinge pink. "I'll go. What are the odds you'll pass me?"

"One in.. ten," Luke says. "Three.. two.. one.."

"Six."

"Six."

"Aha!" You grin, victoriously. "See, I'm a mindreader."

"As if I'd flunk you," Luke rolls his eyes. "You're a good driver, Y/N. You need to be a little more confident but there's no way I'd fail you."

You need to be a little more confident. Sure, Luke was talking about driving but that doesn't mean you can't apply that statement to anything else, right?

"Alright, my turn," Luke rolls his lips in thought. "What are the odds that.. you'd be my friend on Facebook?"

"Facebook?" You ask, a brow raised. "Nobody uses Facebook anymore, Luke."

"I do," Luke defends softly, shoulders drawing inward. "Just play along, Y/N."

"Okay, fine," You laugh softly. "Uhh, one in ten. Three.. two.. one.."

"Four."

"Eight."

"Damn, looks like we won't be Facebook friends," You tease, the flush still bright and red and pretty on Luke's cheeks. He's so easy to fluster. You almost regret what you're about to say. "What are the odds you'll admit the real reason we stopped at the rest area?"

Luke's face falls. "I.." He glances away from you, clearly caught off guard and there's a stinging in your chest. You should've just kept your mouth shut, he didn't deserve to be called out like that.

"I'm so sorry, that was too far, I-"

"It's..okay," Luke lets out a wavering breath. "I feel really bad about that," Your brows furrow. "Look I- I think you're really pretty and this is so, so unprofessional of me but I uh- you said girlfriend and my mind just- went off on it's own. I'm sorry."

"Oh," Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden. "You were thinking of me with- oh."

Luke looks away, clearly embarrassed, a blush blooming down his neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N. It was really inappropriate and I shouldn't have."

"It's okay," You assure him. Luke looks like a kicked puppy, unsure as his eyes slowly meet yours, not quite believing you. "Seriously, it's fine. I- yeah, I'm also into girls. I don't blame you for your.. thoughts, or whatever."

Luke sucks in a sharp breath, like you've said something sinfully explicit. "I- maybe we should end the game here before I say something really stupid."

He isn't covert about it, covering his growing hard-on, beginning to tent his shorts. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, trailing along the inside of your lower lip. Fuck, you have quite the opportunity here and it would be a shame if you let it go to waste. Consensually, of course.

"You're thinking about me with a girl again, aren't you?" You boldly accuse, your eyes narrowing in a teasing manner, watching Luke's gentle blue eyes widen and mouth fall open. "It's okay if you are."

He's so.. submissive. You've never really explored the whole dynamic of positions like that but making your instructor blush and squirm makes you feel.. hot.

"Maybe," Luke's voice is small, soft, and you're loving every second of it. "Y/N, I-"

"What're you thinking about, Luke?" You ask, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the center console, your tone low. "Me kissing another girl, maybe? Getting all hot and bothered and messy and wet?"

A whimper crawls up his throat. "I- fuck."

You trail a finger along his thigh, tracing the leg of his shorts. "Maybe you'd just watch, huh?" You provoke him, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah- I would.." His voice is weak, lips parting and soft little pants escaping them. He's so easy for it, you love it. The dominance rolling off of you in waves seems to come naturally and who are you to deny it? "Y/N.."

"What, Luke? What do you need?"

Need. Luke keens. "I.. can I.."

"You wanna touch yourself?" You ask.

"No.. you, please."

You hum. How can you say no, when he sounds so wrecked like that? "Think there's enough room for us in the back there?"

"Don't wanna.. move," Luke mumbles, eyes already glazed over. He's so far gone. "My lap?"

You won't toy with him anymore, not when he's offering to get you off. To touch you. God, his fingers are beautiful and long and you're dying to have them buried inside of you. "Yeah, 'kay." You puff out, watching Luke adjust himself properly and helping guide you to sit in his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

It isn't ideal but it'll work. He works with shaky, excited hands to unfasten the button and zipper of your jean shorts before trailing his fingers along the waistline of your underwear. "Can I?" You nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip in anticipation.

Without hesitance, Luke dips his hand into the waistband, finding your damp heat with ease. His fingers curl around you, whimpering at the warmth before a finger slips inside of you, slick and velvety. "Oh- fuck."

"Luke," You moan out softly, clasping a hand on the instructor's shoulder. He carries a steady pace, sliding a second finger beside the first, brutally hard at the warmth coating his digits. "Fuck, feels so good."

"You're so wet," He mumbles, like he's surprised, peering up at your blissed out features. "Fuck, did I- did I do this to you?"

"Yes," Your hips shift greedily, making his fingers sink deeper into you. "You're just so.."

"So?" You can feel his breath against your collarbone through your shirt.

"So needy," You moan, rotating your hips, effectively riding Luke's fingers, like he's some kind of toy. "It's so hot, how hard you get so easily- I- fuck, there."

"Y/N," Luke pants against you, his free hand trailing up to your hip, holding tightly. "Wanna make you cum, please."

"Yeah?" You breathe out. "Gonna let me ride your fingers? Fuck myself until I cum?"

"Oh god," Luke trembles, his movements faltering but it doesn't matter, you're moving steadily and the more you shift the more his fingers hit that perfect spot. You can feel it in your toes, that you're close, but you need something else to get you there.

"Did you think about me?" You ask, a light sweat forming on your brow. "When you got off in the bathroom? Did you moan for me?"

"Yes," Luke admits in a whine. "Yes- fucking- came so hard, Y/N. Thought of you the whole time."

Just thinking about Luke, working his cock so quickly in his fist thinking about you is enough, warmth flooding your stomach as your orgasm rapidly approaches and you're releasing all over Luke's fingers. Like a fucking floodgate.

"Oh fuck," You hear him moan, fingers slowing as your hips come to a halt. "Fuck, Y/N."

Blissful and warm and flushed, Luke retracts his fingers from you, the digits glistening as he slips them into his mouth with needy, complacent hums. He looks more wrecked than you do.

"Can I- can I ride you?" You blurt.

Luke goes rigid. "What?"

"I wanna ride you," You reiterate. "I wanna fuck you, Luke. Can I?"

"You- yeah, fuck of course," Luke's eyes are blue and glassy and glazed and you aren't even sure how he's functioning right now. He hasn't even cum yet so- wait. "Just give me a minute.."

Curiously, you shift back a bit on his lap to see he's half-hard and there's an obvious damp patch on the front of his shorts. "Did you cum while you were touching me?"

Luke nods. "Sorry."

"Fuck that's so hot," You can't help it, fitting both hands beneath his jaw to tilt his head upward, capturing his lips easily with your own. He tastes like spearmint gum and flavored coffee, it's all you can think about when you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. That was too easy, you can already feel his dick fattening against your thigh again. "Do you have a condom?"

"In my wallet," Luke pants against your mouth. "I wasn't like- expecting this, by the way."

"Neither was I," You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Let me get my shorts off."

Car sex seems so hot in theory until you're caught up in the moment and you're stuck trying to take off clothing where it's just not possible. You manage to slip your shorts off, leaving your damp underwear on before claiming Luke's lap once again. The condom sits in the crevice between his thigh and hip, fly open and dick straining against the seam of his boxers.

"Get yourself ready for me," You tell him softly, your fingertips trailing along your lower abdomen, along the inside of your shirt to cup your breasts beneath your bra. Luke's in a trance, nearly swallowing his own tongue before nodding and barely wiggling his shorts and boxers down his hips. He slips the condom on, abandoning the foil packet god knows where, before stroking himself a few times with a gentle hiss. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Luke squirms at that. "Thank you," he mutters. "Can I- are you ready?"

"So ready," He carefully aligns his hips with yours before slowly pressing inside, letting out tiny whimpers with every inch he sinks in. "Fuck."

"Y/N," Luke moans, eyes threatening to fall shut. His hands find your thighs, blunt nails digging into the soft skin there, hips threatening to rut upwards at the sheer warmth encasing his cock. It's immeasurable, how good you feel wrapped snugly around him.

"So good, Luke, you're doing so good," You praise gently, holding yourself upright with your hands on his broad shoulders. Once he's buried to the hilt, you slowly rock your hips in a circle, eliciting a short gasp from the blonde. "Such a good boy."

The simple phrase makes Luke choke on his own breath. "You're so warm," he mumbles, lips barely moving, chest rising and falling steadily. You rock your hips again. "Oh my god."

Luke isn't like the guys you've slept with before. He's sensitive and responsive and it's probably the hottest thing you've ever witnessed. It's like he's fighting the urge to give in. Slowly, you begin to bounce in his lap, testing the waters. Luke moans every time you sink down.

"Yeah?" You ask him after a particularly whiny moan falls from his mouth. "Feel good, Luke? Tell me. Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels so good," He babbles, a wheezy, whining mess every bounce you make. It's slick and wet and so fucking hot you know you'll cum again sometime soon. He's hitting all the right spots inside of you. It helps he's probably the biggest dick you've taken by far. "So good. Please don't stop, please."

"Not gonna stop," You mutter, nails sinking into the skin of his shoulders. "You're such a good boy, Luke. Taking it so well. Feel so good inside me."

Luke lets out a squeak when you clench around him. "Mommy-"

Your hips falter briefly but you can't stop, you refuse, because that word, though you've never been called that before it lights a flame inside of your stomach that makes you want more and more and more. "Yeah?" You abandon your grip on one of his shoulders to clasp his jaw, making Luke meet your eyes, his half lidded and cloudy and dark blue. "Gonna let mommy fuck you, Luke? Ride your cock until she cums?"

Luke bites down on his lower lip so hard he swears he can taste blood. His head is swirling, like yours, all fuzzy and fucked dumb. Your pace grows quicker, a bit more focused but frenzied, until Luke's panting to the point where he's babbling words that don't even make any sense. "Gonna- please- need-"

"What, Luke? What do you need?" You ask, ghosting your lips over his own. He whimpers against your mouth.

"Wanna cum, mommy. Can I?"

"Yeah baby," You press a hard kiss to his mouth, pushing your tongue past his lips and that's all he needs, gripping your thighs tightly until he's fully inside of you before releasing into the condom. Luke slumps slightly, clearly spent but you're far from finished. "Stay still, won't you?"

"What-" Luke mutters, flushed and confused when you begin to raise your hips and sink back down on him. "Oh fuck me."

"So close, Luke," He isn't softening in the slightest. It almost makes you smile, makes you proud because he's so turned on, just letting you use him like some kind of fuck toy. "Touch me?"

Luke nods, blissed out, attaching his thumb to your clit and rubbing furious, hard circles. Your thighs tremble as your orgasm builds up, toes curling inside of your shoes before finally letting go and releasing all over his length.

Shuddering through the warmth spreading up the base of your spine, your nails sink into the instructor's shoulders, panting against his mouth as he tips his head up to connect your lips in a soft kiss. Your skin feels tingly in the best way, electric, and your head swarming furiously.

Luke pulls away first. He's so flushed, from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck and you're positive that pretty pink blush has reached his naval, there's no doubt. He's definitely a full-body blusher. "Y/N.."

"Yeah?" You ask quietly, breathless, noticing the windows have fogged up a little bit from your activities.

"Can you.. sorry, it's just uh- the condom's a bit uncomfortable." The blonde grimaces apologetically, reddening further when you muffle out a short laugh and slowly climb off of him. Your underwear are soaked, from your own release, but you slide your shorts back on anyways as Luke ties off the condom and places it hesitantly on the floorboard.

Now that the two of you are dressed, less short on breath, you figure it might be best to address what the hell just happened. "Luke-"

"Y/N-"

"Sorry, go ahead," You mumble.

"I wasn't- planning that. Or, expecting it, I swear," Luke says rather quickly, eyes flitting away from you, a bit embarrassed. "Please don't think I make a habit of this. You're- you're the first."

You swallow harshly. "The first?"

A nervous, awkward laugh tumbles out of Luke's mouth. "No, no, that was a girlfriend in high school. I mean- uh- student."

"Oh," You puff out a relieved breath, resting your head back. You're still warm and relaxed from your orgasms. "Well in that case, I don't really sleep with driving instructors, so I guess it's a first for both of us."

"It's not.." Luke trails off, his voice low, like he isn't sure how to phrase what he's thinking. "It won't be the only time, will it?"

That comes as a bit of a surprise to you. Again, you weren't really the hook-up type but the guys you have hooked up with in the past were quick to forget it even happened and move on with their lives.

You're stunned into a short silence. Will that be the only time you hook up with Luke? Sure, he's funny, and insanely attractive, but aside from the few things you've shared during the drive he's still almost a complete stranger.

"I understand," Luke quietly says.

"No I- sorry, I was just- surprised," You say. "I'd like to see you again. Maybe not in a broken down car on the side of the highway."

Luke chuckles briefly. "Okay, cool," The tension seems to slip from his shoulders. "Sorry, I'm not really good at this. I don't really uh- date? Just, with work and everything it's hard to find the time."

"Being a driving instructor is that demanding?" You inquire, a lighthearted teasing lift to your voice. The highway is still dead silent and the sun is slowly beginning to set. Soon, you'll be cast in a hue of pinks and oranges and pretty purples.

"I race for a living," Luke says, catching your attention abruptly, your brows furrowing in confusion. "It's not something I really bring up in conversation or during uh- other things."

"You're not like, a Nascar driver or something, right?" You joke. Luke stays silent. "What the fuck?"

Way to go, Y/N. Fucking a driving instructor slash Nascar driver. Your parents would be so proud. Stupid girl.

"Like I said, I don't really tell people," Luke quickly defends, swallowing as an anxious look perturbs his features. "This doesn't uh- change anything right? About seeing me again?"

"No but if my dad finds out you're gonna be forced into every Sunday dinner until you're dead," You speak without thinking, still shocked about Luke's line of work. And here you were thinking he was just a dorky driving instructor for the state of Michigan. "Sorry, that was weird."

Luke laughs, shaking his head. He took your comment well, like too well, and you're starting to think maybe Luke isn't real at this point. He's too.. perfect. Handsome, dorky, a fucking racecar driver. "You're fine, I get it. Your dad's a big fan, then?"

"Huge," You sigh. "My brothers, too."

"You think they'd come to a race if I set aside some tickets?" Luke's teeth sink into his bottom lip, a hopeful look on his splotchy, pink face.

"I- I mean yeah," You stumble. "Luke, you really don't have to.."

"I want to," He reassures you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I really wanna see you again and if free tickets is the way I can then, I'd be dumb not to offer."

"For the record, I'd see you again regardless of the free tickets," You tell him, leaning to rest your elbows on the console. One of his eyebrows arch curiously, in a way that's so damn hot and Luke doesn't even realize it.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah," You confirm. "By the way-"

You're cut off by the chirping of a siren, glancing out of the rearview mirror to see a State Trooper has parked behind you, lights flashing.

Well fuck. This'll be fun.

[cdldriverrecruiter]

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[punjabtruckdriving-school]

Unleash the multitude of truck driver benefits by choosing Punjab Truck Driving School. Our Class A CDL training program is designed to prepare you for the exciting challenges and opportunities that await in various truck driving jobs.

[struwberrii]

Hi! I love your American high school headcanons! Do you have any headcanons for the Karasuno third years hehehe

haikyuu!! at an american highschool ⋆⭒˚.⋆

thank you for the request!! hopefully u all enjoy ^.^

pt. 1, pt.2

characters: tanaka, noya, kiyoko, sugawara, daichi, asahi

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

tanaka

there’s a 50/50 chance he’ll actually show up to class

drives the most beat up busted car with no tint and no bumper

he and noya in the parking lot blasting music with the windows down

cafeteria lunch defender

probably pulled the fire alarm at some point as a joke

teachers have to tell him to pull his pants up bc he sags 😭

speaker in his bookbag

has been high in class multiple times

literally has no school supplies

does interview in the halls with his phone as a mic and is constantly getting humbled by pretty girls

somehow pulled kiyoko (everyone rips on her for dating him)

falls asleep in class and snores

bro is not graduating 😭

he and noya troll teachers

noya

uses a children’s bookbag bc he thinks it’s funny (people think he’s actually a child)

tanakas #1 meat rider

always making mildly gay comments and everyone in their friend group gets so mad at him

gym try hard

doesn’t have a car but skips in the bathroom sometimes

probably smoked one time and saw literal demons now he’s too scared to ever do it again 😭

his mom drops him off at school

another boy the girls have to hit with the “hear me out”

actually gets his work done but hardly passes

brings like whole family packs of cookies for lunch

crocs all day everyday

makes fart noises in class then blames it on other people

let’s his friends hype him up to ‘rizz’ up girls and 9/10 the girls laugh at him (poor guy lol)

kiyoko

unproblematic and everyone loves her

guys probably spread rumors about her when she rejects them but nobody believes them

you either want to be her or be with her

half ap classes

accidentally starts trends (like fashion trends)

tries to help tanaka with his work but he doesn’t ever pay attention

the only thing people criticize her for is going with tanaka 😭

quiet and keeps to herself

takes super neat notes

drives a pretty nice car and it always smells like japanese cherry blossom

always has one airpod in too

probably class buddies with suga and asahi

girls in the grades below her view her as like big sister

takes low effort instagram pictures and always ends up on the explore page with thousands of likes

suga

takes ap classes

the best and safest driver and offers everyone rides

sketches and doodles on the corners of all his assignments and notes

color coordinated notes with pastel highlighters

people think he’s gay but he just likes cute stuff

shit talks with teachers

everyone trusts him and he is very reliable

boy next door

has the cutest keychains and pins on his bag

‘takes notes’ on his ipad but actually just plays roblox

probably has a job at like a pet store or bakery

daichi

him and suga are the unexpected best friends bc they’re so different

spends all his free periods in the gym working out

has social media but never uses it

drives a truck but isn’t annoying about it

curbs #1 enemy

has really random knowledge about dumb stuff, like you could be complaining about your ankle hurting and he knows exactly how to fix it

he does not tolerate disrespect, shuts it down real quick.

plays cod during his free time

takes all regular classes but his grades never fall below 90s (As)

him suga and asahi get lunch together off campus at least 3 times a week and he always drives

working out 24/7

asahi

works at barnes and noble or a coffee shop

has a car but never drives because it makes him anxious

gets rides from suga

plays word cookies in class

smells really good and citrus y all the time

the craziest rumors go around about him, like about him being a grown man and being held back or being a criminal

nicest guy in the entire school

staff has stopped him in the halls multiple times because they thought he was a grown man and had to see his school ID 😭

always gets vending machine frappes

dresses like a youth counselor

watches movies during class

underclassman call him unc

[alien-magnolia]

Daddy Issues - Joel Miller x Hyperfem!reader

Fic description: 18+ mdni. pre!outbreak dom!joel miller x hyperfeminine subby!fem!reader, major size!kink, age gap (Joel in his early 40’s, reader in early 20’s) slow burn at first, daddy issues, daddy!kink, unprotected sex, lil bit of corruption/innocence kink + slight breeding kink. 2.4K words.

A/n: Will probably write a sequel.

You loved living in your quaint little suburb of Austin, Texas. You lived with your dad, and only your dad. He wasn’t too nice, though, yet at least your house was. You just didn’t have a good relationship with him. He didn’t take care of you, didn’t praise you, never really cared for anything you’d do. Yet, you loved your little suburb. The weather was beautiful, especially in early summer, late May. It was on May 11th that your new neighbor moved in. The moving truck spent a few days parked in the driveway, the sun beating down on the black asphalt. 

You saw two middle aged men, a pickup truck, a girl around the age of twelve to thirteen with them. You didn’t pay much attention to them  until a few days later, one early morning, around 8am. You were starting the car you and your dad shared, the usual route was off to his work, then off to a day full of classes at the local university. Just to your luck, your new neighbors came out to start their car as well, a sleek pickup truck. Your dad grunts at them, hands on his hips, his usual stance (which did annoy the hell out of you…) 

The two men began to walk across the driveway, most likely to say hello. The one with the black hair was Tommy. Him and your dad had hit it off, and were off to the side viewing the tools in the neighbor’s trunk. You said hello to the girl in the back of the car as well, her name was Sarah. The other neighbor now rushes out the front door, shouting at Tommy to hurry it up. You take a look at him. He looks right at you. Fuck. He was beautiful, his brown eyes simply pierced through you. You froze.

 “Hey there,” his smooth Texan accent drawled out at you. “Hi,” you reply, shortly and abruptly. “I’m Joel. That there’s Tommy. We just moved in next door,” he says, his voice gruff yet his tone gentle, as if to not spook you. He was intimidating — you were barely over five feet tall. He was probably six, and then some. You reply back, telling him your name, and then pointing out your dad, who was still talking to Tommy. Joel quickly walked over to them, and exchanged pleasantries with your dad. The group then got into the pickup truck, yet not before giving you another look when he left. You stood there for a bit, mulling over the interaction in your head, until your dad nudges you to snap out of it. You think about it for the rest of the day, during your lecture, during the drive home. Joel made you feel a certain way. He looked so big, so strong. You saw how nicely he treated his daughter. That did something to you.

A few months later   -

Your father and Tommy had gotten on pretty well. They’d spend a lot of time together. Him and Joel — not so much. He’d always leave you with Joel as he went to the garage with Tommy. At first, it was awkward. His daughter, Sarah would sometimes be with the two of you, and you’d all watch a movie. It was just as awkward with her, and without. 

One day however, the two of you started talking. Your dad was in the garage with Tommy as usual, you were on the couch with Joel. It was an incredibly hot summer day, and you were wearing a white top and a very short, pink miniskirt. You folded your hands over your lap as you saw Joel’s eyes shamelessly rake over you.

During your conversation with him, you found out more about his job as a contractor, he told you what he would do on a day to day basis. You told him about college, your social life, the both of you even shared an interest in music. It was all fine, until he asked you if you had a boyfriend. 

“Um. Actually, no. I don’t,” you meekly reply to him. “Don’t believe that’s true, darlin.’ I’m sure a pretty girl like you has peaked at least a few guy’s interests,” he replies. God, that voice. It was going to kill you one day. You shake your head, letting him know that it’s true. He scoffs, and then freezes. “Shit. I’m sorry. You’re young. Shouldn’t prey on you like that, darlin.’ You should just go home,” he murmurs, his voice quiet, he was most likely embarrassed. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t be with the neighbor’s daughter, and he was twice her age. 

“Umm. Joel,” your dainty, gel manicured hand grabs his wrist, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He turns around to meet your doe eyes. “Don’t apologize. I feel the same way.” His face lights up, taking your hand in his. You feel his other hand cup your cheek, engulfing your entire cheek in the palm of his hand. “I’m glad, darlin.’ You always look so fuckin’ sweet, so adorable,” he smirks. You look up at him, and before you knew it, your lips met his.

His kiss is soft, gentle, as if he’s scared to hurt you. He tasted like a hint of tobacco, you feel his stubble against your cheek. His kiss then gets harsher, his large body cornering yours against the wall. He stops for a bit, looking out the window, worriedly. You ask him what had him so concerned. “Looks like my brother and your dad left. Wouldn’t want your daddy findin’ out that his little girl is gettin’ fucked by the neighbor, huh?” You moan at his comment, he chuckles. “I’m probably even older than your dad, huh, sweetheart?,” he taunts, his soft lips leaving kisses over your cheek, trailing down to kiss at your neck for a bit. 

“Y-yes. Joel. Please…,” you whine out, desperate for more of anything from the man. You feel his broad chest against yours, his hands now tightly gripping your hips, squeezing them, exploring your body. Your hands did the same, now wrapped around his neck. He lifts you up, carrying you up the stairs, into his room. His biceps strain against your small arms, God — how you wanted those strong arms around you, holding you!!

He puts you down onto his bed, alongside himself , pulling you into his lap, gazing at you hungrily. “Look at you, darlin.’ You’re a fuckin’ dream, I swear. Got a sweet lil’ thing like you, all to my fuckin’ self.” You shudder at his words, blushing. “Want to be yours, Joel. Would want that so bad,” you meekly murmur to him. He chuckled again. “So shy f’ me, huh?,” he says to you, bringing you in for another, stronger kiss. You run your hands through his hair as he pushes you down into the bed, his body caging you close to him. His large biceps rest by your head, as his veiny hands squeeze and knead at your chest. “Perfect tits you got, sugar. Lemme see ‘em.” He helps you pull off his shirt, and you do the same. His large hands fit so perfectly over your tits, he is just entranced by you. 

You feel his hand slide down your torso, your pink nails coming up to grasp at his wide, hairy forearm. You gasp in shock as you feel two calloused fingers slip in between your folds, gently massaging your clit. Fuck. So gently. You were losing it. “Joel. Joel. I — um,” you try to express something to him, your words were failing you. He was calm and collected as ever, his dark eyes burning through you, as he watched you come undone for him, your hand coming up to cup his face as to ask for another kiss, his soft, thick lips on yours, his nose on your cheek, his gruff grunts that drove you insane. 

“Ready? Ever had, um, ever done this before?,” he asks, stumbling over his words. “No. But I want to. You won’t hurt me,” you reply. “Fuck,” he quietly grunts to himself. “Never even done this before, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I got you, princess. Gonna show you what it means to take your man’s cock. It’s gonna feel good, you’ll see, darlin.’ But you tell me if I hurt you, ‘right?,” he speaks down to you, patronizing but soft. It made you feel cared for, loved. “Yes, daddy.” Shit. It accidentally slipped out. Your scared gaze met his, his eyes only bore into you more and more. 

“What did you just call me?,” he asks, slowly. “Fuck, say it again, darlin.” You giggle, his tongue meeting yours as he pushes into your mouth. “You want me to be your daddy, huh, sweetie? Want me to take care of you, fuck you good?,” his voice having a hint of possessiveness in it. “Y-yes. Daddy. Please…”you beg him at this point, his fingers still working you open. 

“Little cunts so wet f’me already. Think she can take me in? Think so,” he grunts, his fingers leaving your soaked folds as you whine. You feel his soft cockhead slap against your clit for a bit, his veiny, thick cock soaked with precum already. God - it was wide. So wide that you weren’t sure if he’ll fit. 

“S’so big, Joel. Won’t fit…” you moan out. “It’ll fit, baby. Daddy’ll make it fit, don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head ‘bout it, sweetie.”

With that, you feel him slide into you slowly. “Now you tell me if I’m hurtin’ you, ‘kay?” You nod slowly, your face growing redder by the second as his thick shaft slides into you, ever so slowly. You feel his pulsing cock inside you, he grunts as your walls squeeze and milk him for all he’s got. “So fuckin’ tight. First time takin’ this cock, she’s doin’ so well, sugar,” he coos at you, lost in pleasure as you squeeze around him. 

He finally bottoms out, his soft tip hitting your g-spot so perfectly! You whine at him to go deeper, faster, you craved to just be stuffed full of him for as long as you could. His chest hair meets your smooth chest as he presses himself down on you, his full body weight enveloping your tiny body. “Gotta be patient, darlin.’ Gonna give it to ya.” 

You felt him rock into you deeper and deeper, the veins on his cock brushing against your tight tunnel, his balls ever so softly hitting your lips as he rocked in and out of you, his pubic hair meeting yours. The musky scent of his sweat, his biceps bulging next to your neck, his dark brown eyes staring onto your bouncing little body. To him, you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. He wanted to make sure you knew that. 

“Joel. D-Daddy. Gonna cum. Please, fuck — want it in me!,” you squeal out to him. “In you, sugar? That’s what ya want? For me to knock up a sweet lil’ thing like you? No, no, gotta wait for that, hun,” he tuts at you. “What would your real daddy say if he found out, huh? If he saw his girl all round and heavy, all cause of a man who’s just as old as him?” You moan out in response. “You want that, huh, darlin?’ Wanna be full of me?,” he taunts. 

You nod desperately. He does not listen, and pulls out, but not before giving you a few last, fulfilling thrusts. His cum is splayed out all over your soft tummy, he leans off from on top of you and goes to get a towel to wipe you down. You feel so sleepy, so good, so taken care of as he lays back down onto the bed, his big arms coming to turn you over, so you could lay on the safe haven that is his chest. 

You lay your head down onto him, you hear his slow heartbeat. His gruff voice speaks up. “Didja like that, darlin’? Showed you a good time, didn’t I, sweet thing?” “Y-yes. You really did, Joel. What about my dad, though? Feel like I should get home…,” you nervously trail off. 

“Home? Now? When it’s so dark out? Not safe for you, sugar. You just stay over at mines. I’ll get you a blanket and one of my shirts to sleep in, yeah? We’ll deal with everythin’ else in the mornin.’” You nod, agreeing with him. You rolled over to smell his pillow, god — it smelled just like him, so entrancing. You felt so taken care of as this older man ran around his house to get you a towel, some clean clothes. He treated you so, so, nicely! You felt so safe with him, most importantly. You wanted him to be with you, protect you, make you feel good, like he did now. You smile to yourself as you think about it, interrupted by his entrance into the room. 

“Got one of my shirts for ya, darlin.’ And if you get too hot, you let me know, I’ll turn on the ac for ya,” he gently says, as he walks over to join you back in bed. You smile, and gingerly take one of his shirts to put on. It was so huge on you! He brings you onto his lap, his veiny hand coming over to grasp at your cheek again. “Doin’ ok? Just checkin’, didn’t want to hurt ya too much or anythin.”

“I’m okay, Joel. Don’t worry. I should have spent this time with you earlier,” you confess to him. You loved being around him, especially if he treated you in this way. You didn’t have to worry about a thing, as long as he was there with you. You had a feeling that you weren’t just any girl to him. 

Maybe you were right. Joel hasn’t felt about anyone like this in years, until the first time he saw you, your pink miniskirt, sparkly necklaces and all, he knew he had to have you. He got you, and that was all that mattered, as you drifted off to sleep in his big arms, he couldn’t help but think how he needed to keep being with a sweet girl like you, how innocent you were, and how goddamn lucky he was to have you all to himself from now on. 

a/n: thanks for reading! if you like this post pls help a writer out and reblog :)

[seat-safety-switch]

I knew a tow guy once. I know what you're going to say: that class traitor only exists because the carceral state makes it extremely profitable to tow the vehicles of the poor and unemployed who need those cars to survive. And those are some big-ass words. Good job! I'm really proud of you and can't wait to bail you out of jail when you throw a Molotov cocktail at the newspaper building again. Trust me, this guy was "one of the good ones."

Let me put it this way: eventually, someone needs to get towed. People who park in the way of driveways. Folks who park in bike lanes. It's not always a good person getting towed because some dumbass parking-executive failchild needed to extract maximum revenue from the pile of cracked pavement their great-granddad bought when the city had four people living in it. Sometimes people genuinely fuck up. Cars are real big. You gotta use someone to move them.

Big Tony started out as a repo man, yanking unafforded Mercedes off of middle-class residential neighbourhoods. Once, he got to drive off with a bunch of police cars because they didn't pay their bills. That was a fun night, he assures me and everyone within earshot every time he tells the story. Gets a lot of drinks bought for him that way. Then he decided that general-purpose towing was easier on his heart. Surprisingly few people shoot at you when you move their paid-for car away from a fire hydrant.

Sometimes I'd call in badly parked shit around town. We got The Mayor's limousine towed, and I made $25 as a finder's fee. Ultimately, though, the true value of having a friend with a tow truck is that you never have to wait too long for a haul home whenever you blow a hole in your engine. All I have to do is leave its shattered husk in the middle of an intersection and hide in the trunk. Lots of parts cars in the impound lot, too. One stop shopping, really.