#coveralls carhartt

[seo-expert0012]

Coveralls: Everything You Need to Know

Coveralls are a type of protective clothing worn by workers in various industries to safeguard themselves from workplace hazards. They are designed to cover the entire body, providing protection from dirt, chemicals, heat, and other potential risks. In this comprehensive guide, we'll delve into the world of coveralls, discussing their uses, differences from overalls, and popular types available in the market.

What are Coveralls?

Coveralls, also known as boiler suits or overalls in some regions, are one-piece garments that cover the torso, arms, and legs. They are typically made from durable materials such as cotton, polyester, or a blend of both, providing comfort and protection in demanding work environments. Coveralls come in various styles, including insulated, waterproof, flame-resistant, and high-visibility options, catering to the specific needs of different industries and job roles.

Difference Between Overalls and Coveralls

While the terms "overalls" and "coveralls" are often used interchangeably, there is a subtle difference between the two. Overalls traditionally refer to garments that cover the torso and have straps passing over the shoulders, attaching to the trousers. Coveralls, on the other hand, are one-piece garments that cover the entire body from the neck down, including the arms and legs. Both serve the purpose of protecting clothing and providing additional safety features, but coveralls offer more comprehensive coverage.

Why are Coveralls Used?

Coveralls are used across a wide range of industries for several reasons:

1. Protection: They provide protection against dirt, chemicals, abrasions, and other workplace hazards, reducing the risk of injuries and contamination.

2. Comfort: Designed for durability and comfort, coveralls allow workers to move freely without restriction, enhancing productivity and overall well-being.

3. Safety: Certain types of coveralls, such as flame-resistant and high-visibility options, are specifically designed to meet safety standards and regulations, ensuring workers remain visible and protected in hazardous environments.

4. Uniformity: Coveralls contribute to a sense of unity and professionalism within a workforce by providing a standardized appearance for employees.

Popular Types of Coveralls

- Insulated Coveralls: Ideal for cold weather conditions, insulated coveralls feature added insulation to keep workers warm and comfortable during outdoor activities or in cold environments.

- Waterproof Coveralls: Waterproof coveralls are designed to repel water and other liquids, keeping workers dry and protected in wet or rainy conditions.

- Flame-Resistant Coveralls: Made from flame-resistant materials, these coveralls are essential for workers in industries where exposure to fire or sparks is a risk, such as welding or oil refining.

- High-Visibility Coveralls: Featuring reflective strips or bright colors, high-visibility coveralls enhance worker visibility in low-light conditions or areas with heavy traffic, reducing the risk of accidents.

Coveralls in English and Around the World

In English-speaking countries, coveralls are widely referred to as "coveralls." However, in some regions, they may be known by different names such as boiler suits (UK), jumpsuits (Australia), or overalls (North America). Despite these regional variations in terminology, the functionality and purpose of coveralls remain consistent across borders.

Coveralls in Pakistan

In Pakistan, coveralls are commonly used in industries such as manufacturing, construction, and agriculture to protect workers from workplace hazards. They are available in various styles and materials to suit different job requirements and environmental conditions.

Coveralls in the Tech World

In the tech industry, "coveralls" also refers to a popular code coverage tool used by software developers to measure the effectiveness of their tests and identify areas of code that require additional testing. Coveralls, along with other tools like GitHub and Codecov, play a crucial role in ensuring the quality and reliability of software applications.

Conclusion

Coveralls are essential protective garments worn by workers across diverse industries to ensure their safety, comfort, and productivity. With various types available to suit different work environments and requirements, coveralls play a vital role in maintaining workplace safety standards and protecting workers from potential hazards. Whether it's for insulation against the cold, resistance to flames, or visibility in low-light conditions, there's a coverall designed to meet the needs of every worker, ensuring they can perform their duties safely and effectively.

[coverallfan]

Great weather!

[mudmike]

Dunlop,

Quoi de mieux de prendre sa douche en Carhartt avec ces bottes Dunlop.

What's better than taking a shower in Carhartt with these Dunlop boots.

[ares857]

internet find

[unito12]

Adapting To Change: Unito - The Best Workwear Manufacturer In India

The COVID-19 pandemic has forced many businesses to adapt to rapid change in order to survive. This is especially true for workwear manufacturers who have seen demand fluctuate as different industries are impacted. One company that has adapted well is Unito, which has emerged as the best workwear manufacturer in India.

About Unito

Established in 1995, Unito is a leading manufacturer of high-quality workwear for industries like oil and gas, aviation, corporate offices, hospitality, healthcare, and more. Headquartered in Mumbai, Unito operates state-of-the-art manufacturing units equipped with cutting-edge technology.

 Adapting Production

As the pandemic hit, Unito quickly shifted production to meet new demand for masks, PPE kits, and other essential medical supplies. Their expertise in workwear gave them an advantage in pivoting to these new product lines.

 Maintaining Quality

Even while adapting, Unito has maintained its reputation for excellent quality control and timely delivery. They are able to customize workwear with client logos and specifications. As the top workwear manufacturer in India, Unito combines agility with consistency.

 Looking Ahead 

Unito is gearing up to meet renewed demand across sectors as the economy recovers. Their ability to adapt while retaining quality makes Unito the best choice for workwear in India.

[freesomebodybyluna]

My body hurts so bad

[kitchen-spoon]

Steve needs glasses

1989: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Max all live in Chicago together. Steddie and Ronance are in Established relationships and live together in apartments near each other. Max just moved to the city for university and Lives on Campus.

Before they all lived together Max figures out they are dating first and see’s Steve in glasses first because she cut herself pretty bad and was home alone. She goes to Eddie’s for help. He takes her to the kitchen and is cleaning her up when Steve walks out in his underwear covered in hickies with his glasses on asking what is going on.

Eddie is a mechanic. His style has changed a lot because of his job, he needs to dress more practical now. The few things he doesn’t give up are his septum and bridge piercings and his rings. He routinely takes them off and on everyday before and after work. Mostly he wears homemade muscle tank tops he cut himself that show his ribs made from band t-shirts. He wears work boots often now too. His hair is usually tied back into a ponytail and he uses his bandana to keep his bangs away from his face. His usual uniform also involves navy Carhartt overalls.

Steve works at a diner. On Wednesday nights he closes so Eddie, Robin, Nancy and max all come in after close and eat the leftover food that was going to be tossed. Nancy doesn't come often because she usually has work the next day and can't stay up late so, Eddie and Robin deffer to Max for Stories about Steve when he first started dealing with the upside down.

Eddie’s suspicion about Steve needing glasses starts right before they get togther. At first it was because of how much Robin brought it up but he just chalked it up to their weird wonder twins friendship. when He really notices though is when they go to a college party thanks to Nancy and Steve spills his drink trying to pour it in the cup while sober.

Eddie gets his suspissions confirmed when he gets Steve to admit he has trouble seeing one night. They are in the garage together, Steve is ‘helping’ by passing Eddie tools. He asks Steve to pass him a specific sized ratchet and Steve passes him the wrong size Twice. Eddie just straight up asks if Steve has trouble seeing but, Steve gets defensive and is like ‘alright asshole I get it I’m not handy jesus.” But Eddie calms him down, apologizes and asks again letting Steve know he is serious. He mentions the party and other things (squinting at the remote when he puts on movies, always clips the corner in the hallway going into the washroom.) And Steve finally relents and admits "maybe I’ve been having problems for the last year." Eddie freaks out, "like year?! Jesus Steve you need to go to an eye doctor. Seriously." and convinces him somehow.

They go. Steve’s head injuries / concussions have weakened his right eye. He has Amblyopia or a lazy eye. His brain has a disconnect and can’t recognize sight from his right eye as well. He’ll have to get glasses and wear an eyepatch. (which he only wears around Eddie) They make another appointment so he can get tests done and they can get his prescription.

Once they leave the eye office Steve makes Eddie swear not to tell anyone about anything. They talk about how needing glasses makes Steve feel weak and less useful, how he won't be able to protect the kids as well anymore and they won't trust him to keep them safe. He also worries about how they'll make him look because he knows he is stupid so all he has left going for him is his looks which will be ruined by the glasses. Eddie sits and listens and then talks Steve through all his worries, especially the ones abut his looks. Its how they have their first kiss and subsequently start dating.

After that Eddie takes Steve to all his appointments and they have little dates after to feel better. For one appointment Steve has to have his eyes dilated so Eddie really does have to come. It's on a Monday so Eddie has to come in his workboots, coveralls, and bandana right after work. Steve gets his eyes dilated and Eddie helps guide him around. They go to the cafeteria while they wait and have milk and cookies because that is all that is left. Eddie soaks the cookie bits for Steve and feeds him. Eddie laughs and says it’s what Steve looks like when he is stoned

When Steve gets his glasses and hangs out with Robin, Nancy and Max for the first time Eddie goes in first and is like don’t say anything or he’ll never wear them again and be blind by the time he’s 40.

[somer-writes]

I have crawled out of my mole whole to humbly ask you

but what type of southern accent do you think Twilight has? 🤔

hello thank you for coming out of your mole hole, have a treat :3

uuuuh well so im like Midwest Supreme so my interp for his accent comes from like podunk midwest backwater nowhere XD we're talking towns built around grain elevators where theres more cows than people and you can get snowed in for days if you dont live on a snow route

but usually the Default Southern accent i write for OCs is either like Appalachia or gater rasslin loosianna XD

depends on if i want cowboy or chewing tobacco yknow

i think twi just bc of the goats and pumpkins is probably somewhere in the wyoming or northern colorado range of That Peach in Levis cowboy. like modern twi wears a duck coat and chews on toothpicks and has a stetson hat. or when hes doing ranch work hes wearing coveralls but has the sleeves tied around his waist and a carhartt shirt underneath. and you know his carhartts are just destroyed and patched over and over in the ass. he gives fresh goat milk to the farm cats and the dogs follow him *everywhere*. hes riding draft horses recreationally. epona might be a perchie

imo a lot of people write a Tennessee twi but mostly like knoxville. maybe arkansas? not quite In the Swamp south for a lot of them but more like Mountain South. but not mountain enough to be the kind that sets bear traps for cops yknow. just mountain enough to have anarchist leanings.

[fiberfantasies]

Latest Mend:

Friend's Carhartt Coveralls. She tore the buttonhole trying to make another one next to it, so I reinforced it and closed off where it connected to the original one.

Whip stitched a piece of waxed twine over the edge of the hole, then used my best approximation of a buttonhole stitch around the edges. Whip stitched with the remaining thread until it ran out.

[coverallfan]

Found online.

[ares857]

internet finds

If you want this project to continue, you can use the Paypal donation button on the web page of the blog. Any donation is welcome.

[mxss-kxtty]

so, I work at a farmers market on the weekends and sometimes I work next to this lady who sells frozen fish for her and her husband's company. she is a ship captain, has been a commercial fisherman for much of her life, and is a very independent and all around rad lady. the reason I have become obsessed with her recently is because she talks to me. a lot. she overshares constantly and I love it. here's a list of things I have learned about this 33 year old lady at the market:

- she plays volleyball with her friends for fun (but it's kinda serious)

- she has crippling social anxiety but she doesn't know that so she consistently describes the symptoms of social anxiety and asks me if I think she's crazy

- she says "I still need to figure out what I want to be when I grow up" about four or five times a day, she says this in a heartbreakingly somber tone

- she has nightmares about murder and serial killers constantly, the only media she consumes is true crime

- she has a secret love of heavy metal music that she sheepishly confessed to me and was delighted when I told her that I love metal too

- one weekend she came to the market hungover and suffered through it the entire day, she now refers to this event as "the great hangover" when talking to me about it

- she is the man of the house, she didn't tell me that, it's just obvious

- her million-dollar-idea that she pitched to me last weekend was omega fish supplements for people who struggle with seasonal depression

- she introduced me as her little pal to her actual friends that come by at the market

- after I told her about a customer I had who was being transphobic and generally mean to me, she told me that next time I should just tell her and she'll fight them for me

- it was too cold last week so she had to wear her "onesie" which was a very fancy pair of carhartt coveralls, she was clearly embarrassed about it but felt she had no choice given the temperature, her demeanor changed when I told her I thought it looked cute, but she became embarrassed again when I told hed that her collar was folded in

- I was kinda worried I wouldn't see her again after this last market so I asked if she had any social media we could exchange, I got her instagram and facebook (I know I know but you gotta make sacrifices for the older girlies in your life) and she said "I'll send you funny instagrams!!!" before we parted ways

for most of the market day she just vents to me endlessly about the things that she finds confusing and scary about adult life and the injustices in the world. girly is a nervous wreck and I love her dearly

[asleep-inaesthetic]

[nonobadcat]

A real world AU Gothic Romance - part 2/3

Artwork by the amazing @obsidianne-art

Pairing: Ghost Shigaraki X Fem!Reader

Rating: Readers 18+ only

Content Warnings: Dead dog mention, PnO, V/oy with stalker vibes, self-care of an adult nature, mentions of a rich family being jerks to working class Reader

Chapter Two Word Count: 3.9k, Ao3 Mirror

Part I ---❤--- Part 3

Saturday, October 22nd, 2022

Slamming the door of your ten year old car, you ducked your head under one arm and raced through the cold, October rain. By the time the front door banged shut, wet tendrils of wild hair were plastered to your skin. Wiping your forehead, you kicked off your muddy shoes and threw your patched, Carhartt coat over the grand newel at the front of the stairs.

Making a fake mouth with your hand, you mimicked a nasally whine. “Do you really need to go in and out so many times? You’re letting the cold in! Jayden-Breydon-Ashton-Trenton will get pneumonia and his lungs will be damaged. If my perfect child can’t win at every sport known to man because of you, I'll sue! My husband’s a lawyer! Our congressman will hear about this!” Your tool bag thumped to the floor as you trudged up the stairs grumbling to yourself. “Yeah, and your Karen nonsense is gonna pay quadruple time before I go out at seven on a Saturday cause your dumb brat flushed his plastic army men down the toilet. Again!”

As you turned the final step, your dominant hand’s pointer finger caught on the rail, forcing the already injured digit back a painful 190 degrees. A stream of violent curses poured from your mouth, dripping onto the antique banister with enough acidic bite to melt the finish. Peeling off the plastic Pokémon bandaid, you glared at the inch long slice down the inside of your knuckle. 

“Friggen yuppie bedroom communities and their cookie cutter, spliced together McMansions!” you grumbled, slamming a flat palm into the bedroom door. It banged open, bouncing off the newly installed spring stopper before sliding to a halt. Ripping off your coveralls, you tossed the filthy, muck soaked mess into the plastic basket marked “Work Clothes” in half erased black sharpie. “Small wonder the plumbing is always clogged. The builder did such a junk job that crap rolls up the pipes! Another Bryane Homes special!”

Flinging your undergarments to the creamy, hex tile floor, you flipped on the shower, listening to the old pipes thump twice before water finally emerged. Air in the lines again, huh? Looks like this weekend you'd be leak checking everything that "master plumber" did, again. The previous homeowner sure didn't know how to find a handyman.

Stepping past the glass door into the recently remodeled shower of beige stone, you snagged your favorite body wash and mopped the stink of the day off your skin. The splash of water on the stainless drain grate mingled with deep sighs, ventilation fans, and the clunk of your skull on smooth tile. 

"I hate humanity!" you groaned, burying your head in your hands.

After completing your nightly routine, you opened the bedroom door, letting the warm, humid air fill the cold, dry room. Hard rain pelted the windows, rolling in thick droplets down the dark glass. Thunder rumbled in the distance as you padded naked and barefoot across the oak floor. You snapped on the small table lamp near your bed and headed for the wardrobe.

The royal purple, babydoll chemise slipped onto your body like a glove. Lacy, princess seams and triangular cups were lined with smooth raylon for discreet, but suggestive coverage. Trimmed with tiny satin bows, the mesh back hugged your curves before dipping into a graceful, flowing skirt. A ruffled hem hung two inches below your crotch line, showing off soft thighs and tiger-striped stretch marks. Tugging on cute panties, you climbed into smooth, cool sheets and pulled the flimsy microfiber comforter over your shoulders. The bedside light snapped off. Heavy lids drifted shut.

The tritone blast of a train whistle rattled through the windows. With a groan, you pulled your flat pillow over your head and buried your face in the mattress. Steady click-clacks accompanied the dull roar that poured in on the blustering winds. Eye twitching, you looked up just as lightning flashed across the room. Caught in the bright glare, red eyes glowed in the mirror.

Hold up, what?!

You sat bolt upright, clutching the cheap blanket to your chest. The pounding of your heart drowned out the next thunder clap. You squinted at the looking glass, but there was no sign of anything but the bathroom light.

Aw crap. Duh. The bathroom!

The bedside lamp clicked back on. With a frustrated snarl, you trapsed across the room and flipped the wall switch, snuffling out the CFL above the toilet. Tugging the door shut, you cast a wary glance at the old mirror. Still nothing there. Shaking your head, you crawled back into bed and flicked the table light off again.

Fifteen minutes after the train blew past, you lay in bed, staring at the cracked plaster ceiling. Though softening droplets made for relaxing background noise, itchy eyes and a wild imagination refused to let you rest. Counting down from one hundred proved useless.You’d tensed and released your entire body muscle by muscle, twice. Four-Seven-Eight breathing did little to ease your racing mind. You swallowed, realizing the one thing you hadn’t tried yet.

Oh yeah right! Like you could get off when those burning eyes were seared into your brain!

Rolling over for the fiftieth time, you spotted the murky outline of the mahogany secretary through the shadows. Huh… Well, if sexy thoughts were too awkward, maybe picturing something cute and heartwarming would do?

You groaned, pressing your palms to your dry eyes. Throwing off the covers, you walked to the old writing desk and flopped down the front panel. The key clicked in the latch. You extracted the picture of the Shimura children and their dog before heading back to bed. The bedside lamp flipped on. Your hand traced the edge of the old photograph.

“Geeze, you both were really cute kids.” You pursed your lips, checking the date. Tidy, pencil lead scrawl read: 1884.  “Ugh… The poor dog only made it a year?! Screw that puppy puncher!” 

You laid the photo on the nightstand, before flopping back onto your bed. As you curled onto your side, half-stuffed blankets cupped your cheek. You yawned, picturing the sweet smile on the little boy's face. Warm, dark eyes beamed with joy as he clutched his new friend like a treasure. You hummed, grabbing a roll of the comforter and dragging it to your chest. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel soft fur and excited panting, as if you were the one with a puppy in your arms. The steady thump of rain on glass reminded you of a fast paced doggie heartbeat. Buried face first in your fantasy, your breathing slowed. Tired limbs grew heavy as your brain floated away.

“I hope you did okay after everything, Tenko,” you murmured into the blankets. “I wish I could have met you.”

Racing through the pounding rain, you braced a hand over your eyes. The light of the grand house ahead pierced the blurry haze, guiding you up the gravel drive. Slick kidskin boots took the stairs two at a time. Wet hands shoved slimy strands of ruined hair behind your ears. Cold precipitation soaked through your waist-hugging wool coat. The fashionable bell sleeves of the short, double breasted jacket did little to protect your blouse from the elements. Water dripped from the poofy edge of cream silk bishop sleeves. You tugged out the long pins that clamped your toque hat to your head. Rain had flooded the dark beaver felt. The tiny brim sagged low like your mood. With as much dignity as you could muster, you straightened the deep purple kick pleats of your wool skirt before rapping on the door. 

Kerosene lamplight spilled out onto the porch as a tall, imposing butler in a double breasted suit stared down at you. “May I help you?” he asked. 

You squinted to make out his features, but even holding a lantern, his face was obscured by shadow. Swallowing your nerves, you rolled your shoulders back. The wet plip-plop from saturated silk ruined the image. Still, you raised your chin. “I am terribly sorry to bother you, but my bicycle tire went flat just before sunset. I must have gotten turned around in the lane during the storm and now I’m hopelessly lost. May I stay here until morning?”

“Kurogiri,” a gravelly voice growled from the front parlor. “Show her in.”

“Of course,” the butler replied, bowing at the waist. He held one arm out, gesturing to the open door. “Please, come this way.”

Leaving puddles with each step of your button-up ankle boots, you trod soddenly into the next room. Sumptuous scarlet wallpaper patterned with geometric golden rings glowed in the dim yellow light of the brass and glass wall sconce. A high backed, Rococo revival sofa set sat atop a plush, hand knotted wool rug. Across a throne of golden floral brocades, the evening paper lay tossed aside. You followed long, slender ankles up black merino trousers to a smoking jacket the color of pinot noir. Single breasted and well fit, its shawl collar was trimmed in deep ebony velvet. Instead of buttons, two ornate frog closures nipped in at the waist. White collar unbuttoned to his throat latch and leaning against the window, the master of the house peered at you with burning red eyes. Flowing waves of silver-white hair cascaded around his heart shaped face. When you froze, he scratched the side of his dry, peeling neck and grinned at you.

“Retro suits you,” he teased. 

Dumbfounded, you stared at the handsome twenty something.

With a hum, he rose to his feet and moved a plush, small stool nearer to the fireplace. “Kurogiri, prepare a hot bath.”

The butler snapped his heels and headed up the stairs, leaving you dripping on the not-so-old wood floor.

Your host patted the rich, tufted upholstery. “Take off your coat and get warm before you catch the flu.”

Horrified, you waved your hands. “I’m soaked! I’ll ruin your furniture!”

Rolling his eyes, he stalked across the room and snatched up your wrist. “You made it this far barging into my life, why worry about it now?”

As howling wind rattled the bay windows, you shivered.

The slender man pushed you down onto the plush seat, plucking the buttons of your tightly fitted coat before you could protest. He shook it out, spattering water across the ivory carpet before hanging it over the back of a chair. “See?” he demanded, pointing to the pristine rug. “It doesn’t matter here.”

“Here?” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “What do you mean?”

He snorted, flopping down on the sofa. Resting his pointy elbows on his knees, he smirked at your over folded hands. “It’s just a dream. You can’t ruin anything.”

"A dream?" You peeked around him at the elegant impressionist paintings on the walls. Through the open door, you spotted a square based, bone china vase on a familiar mahogany table. Startled eyes flicked back to the man before you. "Hey wait a second, this is—"

"My home," he finished with a taunting sneer. "I lived here long before you did."

You narrowed your eyes, scanning up and down his features. "Who are you?"

With a scowl, he pointed to his nose. "Seriously? You're the one who asked to meet me, idiot."

As he threw himself back in the chair, the kerosene lamplight faded from his face. Dark waves and almond eyes dragged the picture of the little boy to the front of your mind. You lept to your feet in excitement.

"Tenko?! Tenko Shimura?!"

The man before you cringed like he'd been smacked with a brick. Grabbing your arm, he dragged you down to his level. "Don't call me that! That's not my name!"

Wobbly, worn out legs threatened to pitch you forward into his lap. When your knees buckled, panicked hands caught the wooden frame of the sofa. With his face only an inch away, brilliant red irises reminded you of living rubies. Though his brow hair had been burned away and the skin under his eyes looked painfully dry, the adorable mole on his right chin made your heart skip. Your breath caught in your throat. The tiny scar on his left lip curled with his sneer. Blazing heat splashed over your skin, surging up into your head like three glasses of sherry. 

Oh crap… he was stupid hot!

"O-oh!" you stammered, forcing a pinched laugh. "I'm… er… um…" Your eyes rolled away from his pointed stare. "Sorry." 

With an irritated sigh, he loosed your arm and scratched his neck. "Just don't call me Shimura again, got it?"

"Of course! I'm really sorry!" Swallowing down the stone in your throat, you fiddled with your fingers. "I would have changed my name too, given the circumstances."

He tossed you a proud smirk. "I knew you would understand."

A pointed cough echoed from the door. "Master Shigaraki," the butler called. "The bath is ready, as you requested."

Freshly aware of exactly how close your face was to your host, you jolted backwards. The heel of your boots caught on the plush carpet. Just as you started to slip, Shigaraki wrapped one arm around your corseted waist and pulled you into his chest.

"Shall we go upstairs?" he purred in your ear.

Okay… now you were wet for an entirely different reason.

Step by step, the master of the house led you up the walnut treads towards the far bedroom. He smelled like feral cumin-musk and spicy cloves. As you passed the master suite, you raised a curious brow.

"That was my parents’," he explained, pulling you along. "I never wanted to sleep in the same place as that man."

"Oh…" you murmured, following him into the northern bedroom. "That makes a lot of sense.”

In your-er… his sleeping quarters, the gothic revival bed set and elegant writing desk sat in the same spots as their present-day counterparts. However, the warm amber stain looked much less yellow than in your time. Beyond the pocket bathroom door, polished marble tiles led to a gilded porcelain soaking tub. Steam poofed into the cold air, curling up past cream silk papered walls delicately trimmed with gold leaf. Dried lavender potpourri scented the room. A fluffy towel lay neatly folded on the mother-of-pearl pedestal sink.

The fingers on your corset dipped down to your hips as he loomed over your shoulder. Warm breath tickled your ear.  "After your bath, you can apologize properly for your mistake.”

A coy smile curled onto your lips. “Define properly?”

Two fingers gripped your chin and turned your face to his. Red eyes drifted shut. “Take a guess.”

Shigaraki's lips tasted of wine and copper. With a moan, you leaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands drifted to the buttons on the back of your wool skirt. It slumped to the floor, pooling around your ankles. A soft tongue stroked yours. You met his motions with heated enthusiasm. Deft fingers plucked the fasteners of your wet, ruffled blouse until it slipped from your shoulders. Tangling his hand in your stays, he tugged your s-curve corset and its cover free. Your thumbs hooked under your drawers and petticoat, throwing them to the ground. Kicking them away, all that remained between you and him was a thin, silk chemise and one pair of stubborn, button-up boots.

“How on earth do you people even get to the good part?!” you demanded, squatting to fight with the brass closures.

He cackled. “A little excited are we?”

You reached up and cupped the bulge in his trousers. “You’re one to talk," you fired back with a naughty wink.

The pale man groaned, snatching your wrist into his strong grip. His cheeks flushed pink. “If you want to make it to that bath, stop now," he rasped.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you flashed him a saucy smirk. “Bold of you to assume I give a rat’s about the bath.” 

All at once, Shigaraki dragged you to your feet, smashing his lips against yours like he intended to eat you alive. As you giggled, he broke the kiss and marched you back into the bedroom. “Wagtail,” he growled, tossing a pillow on the floor.

Settling yourself on your knees, you pawed at the front of his pants. “I don't know what that means, but I like dogs.”

Fortunately for everyone involved, his pants had far fewer buttons than your stupid shoes. You fumbled with the frog closures for only a moment before shoving the velvet smoking jacket out of the way. Untucking his long shirtwaist, your fun screeched to a halt when you encountered long underwear.

“What the actual—” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “So much for a strip tease!” Faking a pout, you tugged on his shirt. “Help a horny girl out?”

With a snort of laughter, Shigaraki quickly shuffled out of his complex layers. By the time you got your damp chemise and stupid boots off, his stiff cock finally escaped its elborate prison. Thumb and forefinger forming a ring grip, you gave him a few experimental strokes. When he tossed his head back, white waves haloed his face. You bit your lip, savoring the ethereal beauty of his fair complexion against those haunting crimson irises. 

A firm hand cupped the back of your head. “Now you slow down?” he demanded between pants.

Tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear, you lowered your lips to his weeping, flushed tip. “Calm down. I'm just savoring the moment.”

When your hot mouth slipped over his salty head, the man above you gasped. Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed your way down, inch by inch. Your tongue stroked the thick vein on his underside, trailing up to the small piece of tissue just below the spongy crown. Flicking the sensitive skin elicited a throaty whimper.

Shigaraki’s strong fingers curled tighter into your scalp as he loosed a garbled curse. “More,” he demanded.

You smirked at the expletive before diving back down. 

Taking his generous girth deep into your mouth, your tongue lolled around the edge of his shaft. Your free hand slid up his soft inner thighs. Rolling his balls between your fingers, you shivered when musky precum coated your tastebuds. Harsh pants from above urged you on.

As you worked him further into ecstasy, each stuttered thrust crept closer and closer to the soft roof of your mouth. You angled him away from your gag, swallowing down thick saliva. It didn’t help. Drool pooled at the corners of your mouth, leaving him coated in slick. Wet clicks accompanied choked whines as you worked him to the back of your throat.

Shigaraki squirmed in your hold, guiding you into a relentless pace. Your jaw ached as his swollen cock forced you to spread your teeth wider. Tears welled at your lash line. His filthy moans stoked the heat between your legs. All at once, he stiffed, his hard grip clamping down on your skull.

With a hoarse gasp, he spilled himself down your throat.

Flying up in your bed, you banged your chest as violent coughs wracked your body. By the time you cleared your sore throat, all you could smell was stale, salty breath. You groped for the clock on your night stand. Red LEDs read 3:39am. Your thighs shifted against each other. Wet need stained your panties.

“Not fair!” you whined, slamming your fist into your limp pillow. “Of course I wake up before the good part!”

Flopping back onto the mattress, you rolled onto your side and squeezed your eyes shut. How long you laid there, staring at the back of your eyelids was impossible to say. However, while the digital numbers rolled upwards, sleep danced further and further away. The cravings from your wet dream still burning in your skin, you whimpered and slipped your hand between your legs.

That was when a rip of pain reminded you of that nasty slice on your finger.

Cussing violently, you flipped on the table light. Sure enough, fresh crimson seeped across the previously clotted wound. Throwing off the covers, you gripped your bleeding finger and shuffled off to the cold bathroom. Thrusting your hand under the tap, you gingerly cleaned and dried the injury. The mirrored medicine cabinet rattled open. You peeled a brand new Pikachu Band-aid from its packaging and slapped it over the damaged digit. Closing your eyes, you leaned on the ceramic sink. It was no good. Sharp stabs from your hand couldn’t compete with the hypersensitive need crawling up your core.

As your fingers curled into the thin, cheap towel, you knew what you had to do to fall asleep.

From his glassy vantage point, Tomura watched your pursed lips and frustrated stomping with a pleased sneer. Dragging the flimsy Walmart towel from its mount, you trudged back into your bedroom and threw it on the sheets. Though the light snapped off, he could still see as clear as day. With a raised brow, he watched you ball the fabric under your hips and flop over onto your stomach. 

As you began to grind yourself on the towel, a long deceased cock sprung back to life.

One palm flat against the cool bedding, your free hand tugged the stretch lace cup of your slinky nightgown aside. Soft fingers tickled your bare breast before tweaking the pert nipple. You shuddered, loosing a slutty moan. 

Leaning against the surface of his mirror, Tomura shuffled himself out of his clothes and gripped his shaft. Watching you roll your body against the rough cloth sent a spike of pleasure through his belly. Erotic creaks from his old bed left his mouth bone dry. Your blood plumped lips and half lidded eyes made for fertile fantasies. Swiping some of the pre-cum from his slit, he began to match your pace.

As you worked yourself further and further into depravity, the show before him left Tomura feverish and panting. He watched your legs curl and slacken as you tried to find the right pressure. A few irritated grumbles accompanied rustling bed sheets. When you finally hit upon a position that made your body clench, he heard filthy pleas spilling for your lips.

“Please,” you begged, your hips vibrating against the rough fabric. “W-want your cock so bad!”

Liquid heat blazed through his veins as he fisted his swollen length. Stoking the fire with each pump, he chased the feverish sensation with single-minded desire. The sound of your eager cries and sight of your fingers teasing the pert nub propelled him forward. Hazy eyes watched your body tremble as he pictured himself balls-deep in your velvety cunt. It should be his hand teasing your tit. It should be his fingers making those slutty noises spill from your puffy lips. He clenched his teeth, losing himself in thoughts of your soft body clamped around his swollen cock.

It was then that a raspy inhale accompanied the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 

“Shi-Shigaraki…” You whimpered his name, burying your face in the mattress. “Mmmm gonna… gonna—”

All at once, he exploded over the glass. Limp body leaning on the frame, he drank in the sight of your heaving chest and dazed smile. He watched you shove the towel to the floor and snuggle into the pillow. As your breathing slowed, one overpowering, addictive thought filled his brain with intoxicating lust.

He had to hear you call his real name over and over in that same, needy voice.

Taglist:

@THE-LADY-WRITES-WHAT @wonwoosbestbuddy @OCEON6  @dabisqueen @shig-a-shig-ah-ah @feral-creep @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-loveuet-love @smilinghowever @imaginedheroine @CLOUDS-NO1-FAN @MOONTHECREATOR @HARLEYWRITESFANTASY @MANJIROSGIRL @vamperilous @MADDY-HAT @cakernofakers @builtd-different25 @kurtasim @shiggyniggy @koreluvsspring @smilee-spooks @beware-thecrow

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@rekoii @down-with-the-shigness @softkao @night-shadowblood-writes2

[thedisablednaturalist]

CARHARTTS HAVING A SALE EVERYBODY

Not to be an unpaid spokesperson but Carhartt makes REALLY good field clothes. I love my Carhartt coveralls so much they are worth the investment!

[strid3rofthen0rth]

I washed my set of Carhartt coveralls last night, left them sitting up on the couch, stiff and dry, and startled the shit out of myself when I came downstairs bleary-eyed in the dark this morning.

Happy belated Halloween to me!