#blue-collar

[littlescaryinternetguy]

Blue collar fairies. They just want to get by. Dammit, they’ll sparkle, but there better be a damn good reason. Fairies that say “livin’ the dream” with absolutely no zest. Yeah, a dew drop is fine, for your mother. You got any Pabst up in this shit? Long-ass day. LONG-ass day.

They’re just fairies like the rest of us. Blue-collar fairies.

[dontmean2bepoliticalbut]

[information-message]

In today's world, many companies struggle to find skilled workers for blue-collar jobs. This shortage can slow down important projects and hurt businesses. Staffing agencies play a key role in solving this problem by connecting employers with qualified workers. They help companies find the right people quickly and efficiently. This article will explore how staffing agencies bridge the gap in blue-collar talent, making hiring easier, reducing delays, improving productivity, increasing job opportunities, supporting economic growth, and ensuring businesses stay competitive in a constantly changing workforce environment.

[tatersgonnatate]

We respect all types of work boots in this house. Like to charge, reblog to cast

[heterorealism]

Truck comes first and if there is any money left over the kids may eat. - Modern Consumer Patriarchy

[unofficial-project-2025]

VOTE BLUE!

EDIT: This post is gaining traction, so I think it's important to show you this:

ELON IS INTERFERING WITH THE ELECTION. PLEASE CHECK YOUR VOTER'S REGISTRATION IN PERSON AND TELL PEOPLE ABOUT THIS.

EDIT 2:

IT HAS GOTTEN WORSE.

Please go check your voter's registration and tell everyone you know to do the same! I've heard some states are purging voter's regitration, so please go check!

[tojisun]

call it bad porno plot but blue collar simon coming to your house cuz you rang, saying you needed some plumbing done, and you, well, you didn’t expect this hulking mass of a man to come greet you with an accent so thick you can feel yourself getting wet :(

he calls you maam and missus—you say “just miss,” with a little cough because you’re not married, and he pauses and goes, “oh, is that so?” with this little pleased smile tugging at his lips.

he checks whatever’s going on in your kitchen sink and says it might take a while, and you can barely reply to him when he begins to shrug his jacket off, leaving him in this skin-tight black shirt that literally looks so beat up with overuse but unbelievably hot on him.

“reckon little ol’ me can have somethin’ to drink, maam?” he asks, crossing those thick arms over his chest, and you can barely rasp out your reply before you’re turning around to rummage around the fridge.

you don’t notice the way simon eyes you down, tracing your body and barely biting a pleased hum at the sight you make, all doll and pretty, so easy to read with your blown wide eyes staring up at him with such palpable desire.

you haven’t been fucked right, huh darling? probably never had a real man treat you well—fold you over the counter, make you squirt with only fingers, yeah?

well, he thinks, rolling his shoulders and grunting his thanks to you when you give him a glass of OJ, maybe i can be that man for you, isn’t that right petal?

(it takes a purposeful hit at the pipes for things to pick up—you came running back to the kitchen with a confused yelp, and the next he’s got you on your kitchen table, legs thrown over his shoulders, and his head buried in your cunt.)

-

ext

[amaranthinespirit]

blue collar or cowboy!simon riley who would fuck you in the bed of his truck

simon was always out working so hard all day, coming home with dirt caked on his clothes. you'd have to scold him when he would track mud through the house—that you had just cleaned from whenever he came in yesterday.

he'd grovel, pressing kisses to the bare skin of your shoulder, the well-worn, holed shirt you stole from him slipping off your frame. muttering promises between each press of his lips further up your neck, along your jaw.

who are you to resist?

and who is he to either?

your pants pooled at your ankles, shirt hiked up your back and drooping off one shoulder. your inner thighs are slick and glistening with arousal and saliva.

a rough hand pushes down on your back, further squishing your chest into the hard metal of his truck bed, another grasping firmly at the fat of your backside where simon's face is lapping at your dripping cunt.

soft mewls cry from your lips, hands reaching back to grasp as his head, fingers tangling through the short locks of dirty blond. he only grunts in response—sorry, luvie, he's in heaven.

your legs are trembling, knees threatening to buckle under you with three orgasms already coaxed out of you on his tongue alone, milking you of your sweet, slick nectar.

your quiet, strained cries do nothing, but aid the tightness in his dirtied jeans, his cock oozing arousal in his boxers, dampening the fabric beyond his zipper. every involuntary shift of his hips causes more friction and tension with the denim, sending a groan throughout your pussy.

his noises vibrate against your pussy, shocking your overstimulated, and oversensitive, clit. all you can do is cry out as he pushes himself deeper, closer. his tongue is merciless, selfish as he threatens to swallow you whole.

at this point, you're begging for relent, repeated pleas of his name falling from your lips as the familiar heat builds in your tummy, and you writhe under his hands. the cold metal turning warm under you as it digs into your skin.

everything becoming overstimulating as the world begins to spin, jaw going slack, saliva pooling in your mouth as it threatens to spill over your swollen lips.

tears are streaming down your flushed face, your hair is frizzy and eyes are practically rolling to the back of your head as yet another release washes over you, sending a shudder through your body.

simon finally pulls his face away from the heaven between your thighs, not without flattening his tongue over your cunt for a last taste.

the lower half of his face glistening, coated in your juices, he desperately licks his lips to savor it. as he stands up from his position, his hand on your back pushes you back down onto the bed of his truck.

"n't done, luvie, be'a gud girl 'nd stay still," he kneaded the flesh of your backside, groaning at the sight in front of him.

his hands meet your hips, pulling you back on his clothed erection. a small yelped wince escapes your lips at the friction against your sensitive cunt. your frayed nerves against the harsh material that soaks up your arousal and previous releases.

you whine as he rocks his hips slowly, grunting as he watches the material dampen so easily before he pulls away from your hips.

his movements are hasty, not wasting any more time as he barely undoes his belt and zipper, freeing his heavy cock from the constraints of his jeans.

he whines softly at the warmth of your puffy, swollen folds as he rubs his cockhead up and down your pussy before catching your slit.

he groans at the tightness that welcomes him, the slick, clamping, spongy walls that pulse around his dick almost milks him of every last drop of sperm that fills his heavy balls.

your voice is hoarse, almost gone by the time his cock is sheathed in you, his cockhead brushing your cervix as you feel the precum oozing from his slit. you can feel every prominent vein of his cock against your spongy walls, they're practically ingrained in you, your pussy molded to take his dick.

a creamy, white circle forms at the base of his cock as he forces his entire length inside, his girthy dick stretching your weeping pussy with loud, lewd squelches.

he doesn't give you time—he's selfish tonight, unapologetically so because luvie, he didn't track any dirt through the house! this is him rewarding himself for being so good! you can't discourage that, can you?

it isn't long until your backside is red, his hips pistioning into your sopping cunt, the sight of your slick pussy swallowing his red, angry cock so needily, sucking him in so desperately and clamping around him was addicting, and the feel even more so. his pace isn't nice, it's mean, and relentless, and bruising.

"fuck, lovie, couldn' wait t'hav ya," he whined in your ear, his cock drilling into your tight hole as he nipped at your earlobe. calloused, rough and dirty hands kneading the fat of your ass, a sharp slap to your skin causing it to turn even more flushed and red as he fucked himself stupid.

he was pussy-drunk, drool dripping from his cracked, dry lips onto the expanse of your shoulder. he'd press lewd, wet kisses against your supple skin, adding to the trails of saliva that pooled from his lips.

you'd have bruises the shape of his fingers on your ass for days, maybe even a week after, because of how hard his hands grasp your backside, pulling you back onto his cock as he milks himself dry.

"need t'fill y'r pussy, baby," his voice comes out a low, rough whine, despite the heavy grasp and force he exerts, "fuck, 's all f'me, ain't it?"

he'd always make sure to put dirt on the floors if it meant making it up to you by stuffing his face between your thighs.

or, making sure to kick off his boots outside the door if it meant rewarding himself like this, again, and again, and again.

[chrissy-kaos]

Why is it so fucking hard to find a guy to come clap some cheeks around these parts.. like come on. I’m not even that intimidating stop being a pussy and let’s goo!

[cameronsprincess]

p!link thinking about… stripper!reader pulling the condom off blue collar!rafe mid-fuck😮‍💨

CW: smut! 18+ only! blue collar!rafe, stripper!reader, protected turned unprotected piv sex, ass slapping, degrading.

daydreams

it was the way he had you bent over, palms planted on his leather couch while his own large, calloused hands harshly gripped at your hips. the pace in which he fucked his long, thick cock inside you had your sweaty palms slipping against the black leather of the couch, loud moans and whines followed by the lewd sounds of your soaked pussy bounced off the walls. you’d never had anyone fuck you this good before.

“ffffffuck, r-rafe!” you moan, the feel of his swollen head repeatedly hitting at your g-spot sending your mind into a hazy state.

his right hand releases your hip, a harsh slapping sound ringing through your ears and your ass cheek stinging from the slap he’d just given it. you feel his cock swelling inside you, his thrusts beginning to grow sloppy.

“r-rafe! want… want you to cum inside me!”

he chuckles, his hand slapping at your ass again and again. “such a dirty fuckin’ slut, yeah? wanna let a man you just met fill you with his cum?”

your bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, biting down so hard you’re surprised you don’t draw blood. nodding your head profusely, you whimper out a small “yes.”

rafe slowly pulls his cock out of you, leaving just the tip inside before he removes himself completely. you crane your neck, finding his intense blue eyes and then his dick. you lift your right hand, reaching back and pulling at the condom that squeezes at his thick member. you finally free his cock from the condom, smiling back at him before turning and placing your right hand back on the couch.

you hiss in a breath when he begins sliding the head of his cock through your slick folds. “mmm you’re so wet, darlin’. fuckin’ soaked. you gonna be a good little whore and make a mess on my cock?”

“mhmm.. please? please, rafe. fuck me.”

“yes ma’am.” he rasps while shoving his cock back inside you, filling and stretching you. you lift up onto your toes, letting a soft moan slip from your lips.

his hands make purchase on your hips again, his pace brutal. your pussy clenches around him, begging to be filled with his cum. “fuckfuckfuckfuck! please, please!” you cry out.

that warm, euphoric feeling washes through you as your pussy continues to clench and unclench around rafe’s cock. he mutters curses under his breath, the raspy sound of his groans and his balls slapping against your clit send you tumbling over the edge.

“‘m coming! goddamn…” you moan as the wave of pleasure swallows you whole.

“right behind you, goddamn your pussy feels perfect wrapped around my cock, fuck!”

rafe’s dick swells, pulsing inside you as he comes with a groan, his cum filling you in long, hot spurts.

i was.. horny.. saw that p!link and yeaaaaah…

[androtherika2]

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - implied fat!reader x bluecollar!simon riley drabble - simon is a bit of a creep also lol

Bluecollar!Simon Riley whose house floods so he has to spend the next few days in a cheap, seedy motel

First morning there he's leaving for work just as the sun is rising. Its hot, humid, and he's a shitty mood because he'll be working all day and it's only gonna get hotter

Simon Riley who smokes a couple cigs before he goes, sitting on a plastic lawn chair on his concrete faux patio when he sees you

You're flustered, damp with sweat and skin sun-kissed. You've got a laundry basket on your hip and immediately he's imagining a baby there instead. His baby.

Simon Riley who's shameless about staring at you struggling with the laundry door, dropping your clothes and giving him a view of your wide hips and plush ass in very short pajama shorts

You're so flustered:(( nearly in tears while you pick everything up. The shorts are a little tight, a little worn, and the thin material gives him just enough of a view of your pussy that it sustains him the whole day :')

All he can imagine is coming back and sinking into you :') not even necessarily fucking right away, but keeping his cock warm and relieving the tension in his body. He deserves that, no?

He's not creeping, necessarily, when he takes note of the lotion you use. Vanilla. He just happened to be having a smoke and walking right by your window, where you've got one foot propped on a chair rubbing it into your skin.

Your room is tidy. Despite the stained walls, cracks in the ceiling and overall dingy-ness, you've managed to make it look cozy.

New sheets, a fluffy blanket, string lights strung across the wall. Beside you, lotions and creams and washes - he snorts a little to himself. The bathrooms here don't have any counter space or mirrors to set them down on.

But his house does. In fact, most of his shelves are empty everywhere. His pantry, his closets. The only thing he's got are work clothes and beers in the fridge. Maybe a stray heel of bread.

Simon Riley who decides he'll have you move in before he even talks to you, before he starts memorizing your schedule on the weekends and evenings he gets home. You're struggling, on the edge of homelessness, but he knows you'd be the perfect wife and mother. That you'd bring light and warmth to his house, fill those empty shelves and empty rooms...

[information-message]

Outsourcing blue-collar hiring in India is becoming essential for industries like logistics and manufacturing. By partnering with professional staffing solutions, companies gain access to a wide talent pool, save time and money, and ensure compliance with labour laws. This article explores why outsourcing is the key to efficiently meeting workforce demands and scaling operations.

[frownyalfred]

the batfamily getting pulled over and Alfred telling the officer that there’s guns in the car and Jason immediately thinking everyone is narc-ing on him instead of Alfred just being strapped (legally) to high and holy heaven is still SO funny to me (and it’s my fic lmao)

[alnilaem]

thinking about blue collar Ghost lumbering home from work with dirt and grit and smudge oiling his stupid big hands and staining his wedding ring. he doesn’t even say anything, just huffs and snorts and pins you to the couch and presses your knees against the cushions. flattens his once-broken nose against your soft pussy and deeply inhales. curls his big body over yours and ultimately becomes both your beginning and end. pops his fat, girthy cock (or whatever he’s able, it being just the bulbous tip) into your pussy. pockets your panties in his soot-stiffened jeans for the next day. maybe he’ll use them to jerk off during break, maybe he’ll show them off to Soap (who probably sniffed it out anyway, fucking freak—)

[captainjonnitkessler]

I truly, TRULY do not know how to say this, because the fact that I have to say it makes me feel like I am losing my grip on reality. But no, in the post-capitalistic anarchist utopia, I will not be relying on “autistic minecraft girlies” to be building inspectors because - and this may shock you - one of those occupations takes years of education in how to read and interpret hundreds of thousands of lines of regulations based on complicated math and physics that were the result of decades of tragedy and death, and the other one involves playing a children’s video game.