#denim overalls men's

[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.

[denim-bias]

[ashtraysystem]

being a plus size punk is difficult, cuz finding clothes that fit without breaking the bank is next to impossible, and thrifting it is even more so! i want to thrift a denim jacket that fits me but i also know that i'll likely not find one.

[skinskisurf]

[love-for-overalls]

[athletictaipan]

[ashlynlovestlou]

pottery with abby :)

꩜ synopsis: abby takes you on a pottery date and it leads to something more..

꩜ CW: cute little date fluff , dom! abby , sub! reader , smut (men dni) , fondling , fingering , gentle! abby , pet names (mama, honey, sweetheart, etc) , no use of y/n , abby has a bulge , reader doesn't get dick (sorry lovelies) , orgasm denial , overstimulation , dacryphilia (kinda) ,

nsfw!! this is short, i'm so sorry :')

masterlist

☆—-------------------------------------------------------------—☆

Abby's thick, and quite thunderous, thighs are spread apart, you slotted in between them. Your back is pressed up against her chest, the only thing supporting you being a small sliver of the wooden stool you're both sitting on.

The only sound is the whirring of the pottery machine in front of you. You had bought it a few months ago, thinking it would make a cute date night for the both of you to have in your shared apartment. Of course, you were right. Though it took months to convince your girlfriend the same.

Let's just say, you weren't disappointed. It felt exactly like how it did in the movies, where your sweaty bodies were all squished up against each other. Now both of you were covered in clay from the elbows down, your fingers intertwined as you both work away at the clay.

"You're so pretty, mama." Abby says, her voice sultry as her chin rests in the crease between your neck and shoulder. You can feel her warm breath on your skin and how her hands slowly move from the clay to your arms.

"Abs... the pot." You say, trying to get her attention. Of course she ignore you, her dirty hands placing visible handprints on your clothed thighs, "Abigail Anderson! These are my favorite overalls!" You giggle and pout at the appearance of clay-handprints over the course material of the denim.

She laughs against your skin, the vibrations alone sparking a familiar heat in the pit of your stomach. She doesn't move her hands despite your objections, and even though you wanted to salvage the overalls while you still could, you couldn't deny the warmth pooling in your panties.

"Gonna' let me take care of you, baby?" She coos, pressing her rather chapped lips just below your earlobe.

You'd be an idiot to say no. So naturally, you agree, squeezing your thighs together. The entire time you could feel her packing, her bulge poking and prodding at your ass as you sat in front of her lap. You knew what her intentions are. And you loved it.

She grabs the damp rag you had set aside to clean off her hands with. She wipes them clean before her clean hands slip into the top of your overalls, teasing your stomach over your shirt.

She was teasing you, and you knew it.

"Abby..." You say breathily, taking your hands off the pot in front of you and turning the machine off. She tuts you and takes her hands out instantly, your eyebrows furrowing in disapproval.

"Don't stop making that pot. If you take your hands off, so do I." You groan just as fast as she had retracted her hands from you, earning a stifled laugh from your girlfriend behind you, "Don't be a brat. C'mon, keep going."

Desperate to satisfy the twitching in your cunt, you turn the machine back on, dipping your hands in the water to start on the pot again.

Her warm palms find your tits, kneading them as she peppers kisses on your neck, "Mmm... you're so fucking pretty." She groans again, giving your chest a firm squeeze before pushing her hand down your overalls. She can feel your moisture through your panties as her digits tease at your already sensitive bud, "This all for me?"

You nod, your hands struggling to stay steady on the clay.

Her hand snakes between your legs, her fingers rubbing circles around your pussy. You moan out loud, caught off guard by the pressure against your slick folds.

"Gonna put one in ya." She warns, giving you enough time to stop her if you wanted to. Once she realizes that you're not, she's eases one of her fingers into your hole, letting you adjust before she starts to pump in and out, "Fuck, baby, you're so tight."

You bite your lip, hands still on the clay as your legs shake.

Without another warning, she shoves another one in, the pressure only increasing. You squeak, your hands letting go of the two of you's pot. She tsks you before pulling out, pulling a gasp out of you from the sudden emptiness.

"What did I say?" She demands.

"N-not to stop with the c-clay." You babble.

"That's right." She says, "C'mon, honey, you can do it."

You both resume in your tasks, her fingers working away at your cunt, your own at the clay. Some parts of the pot were denting, but you could feel your orgasm bubbling up in your tummy again. Your eyes closed, the stimulation making them pool with tears as your walls clenched around her fingers. You were close, and Abby knew it.

"Ab— Abby-"

"I know, honey. Cum on my fingers. Let me feel you." She coos, sucking gently on your neck as your orgasm came crashing over you. You were a shaking mess, and Abby fucked you through it. Moans were heard throughout your shared apartment, your neighbors most likely fed up with how loud you always are with her.

She takes her fingers out when she's sure you're okay, drying them with the same rag from earlier. She offers you a little smile before turning back towards the pot in front of you.

She notices the little, crescent shaped nail marks in them, from your attempt to calm yourself from earlier. She laughs at the sight, kissing your cheek. "Alright, baby. Let's get this fixed, hm?"

[overalls4all]

Story requested and pictures provided by @maxder-16

Max grew up in a tumultuous time for young men. The Overalls for All Act changed the future plans of all men, but especially young men. Max was just finishing school when the act went into effect. Suddenly he was required by law to wear overalls or coveralls at all times. Max complained to his friends, but wore his uniform faithfully; after all he didn't want to end up in trouble.

Max had planned to go to college after school to study engineering, but one of the effects of the new act required all men to work manual labor for two years at the age of 18. That meant Max was to be assigned to a work location where he would receive what the state called "masculinity training". On Max' 18th birthday he received his assignment at a farm, hours away from home. The next day, he was taken by a van to his new workplace.

When Max arrived, he was wearing standard blue denim overalls. He was joined by a few other young workers, each wearing overalls or coveralls. The young men were met by their Boss, the farm's owner, who wore dirty green coveralls and rubber boots.

"Greetings boys," said the boss. "You will call me either Sir or Boss. Obey my orders without questions or hesitation or you'll have a good time here. Understood?"

Max and the others dared not talk back and responded in unison with "Yes sir!"

The workers were then ordered into a stable and told to strip. Boss threw a pair of green coveralls and rubber boots at each young man. Max was immediately taken in by the smell of the coveralls. They were obviously used and not washed. It smelled of manure, but as he covered himself in his new uniform, Max found the aroma almost intoxicating.

"That's just step one of the uniform, boys," shouted Boss. "Those coveralls will become like second skin. You will wear them all day everyday. You will be permitted to shower monthly. You will learn to love that manly musk."

Max couldn't deny that. So distracted was he by the stench of his coveralls, he had a hard time listening to Boss, who grabbed a number of masks from a shelf.

"Next step is your masks," Boss began pulling the masks over each worker's face. Max watched as each of his coworkers face was covered by the bulky mask.

"Now don't worry boys. You'll still be able to smell, this just keeps the toxic stuff out. Plus, it keeps you front talking too much. Good workers keep their heads downs and their mouths shut."

Boss came to Max and pull the strap of the mask behind the young man's head. Max's eyes grew wide as his mouth and nose were trapped in the rubbery mask. The combined stench of rubber and muck filled Max' senses. He suddenly became acutely aware of the coveralls covering covering his body from head to toe. He nearly stumbled but the sturdiness of his rubber boots held him steady.

Max hardly realized he was being marched single-file with his new coworkers to their work stations. Max was assigned to the pigpen, earning him the nickname "Pigboy" from Boss. Max was equal parts humiliated and honored to receive a nickname from a manly farmer like Boss. His purpose started becoming more and more clear. He needed to become a real man like Boss. His coveralls, boots and mask were all ways to emulate his Boss.

Max decided then and there that we would work hard everyday during his assignment, and when he was finished he would apply for an apprenticeship at the farm. Any ideas of college faded away as Max began picturing himself in coveralls, toiling under Boss' orders for the rest of his life.

[mai-333]

The Poverty Aesthetic;

Why do people want to look poor?

N.hoolywood Fall/Winter 2017 men’s collection

Not wanting to look polished and elegant isn’t something new. Messier aesthetics have been popular styles since the 1950s. The hippies of the 60s wore a beat up, vintage carnival look. Punk rock trended in the 80s where people wore shredded, torn, or bleached jeans. The 90s had grunge where tattered and even dirty clothes were worn, with distressed denims and flannels. But while these trends were primarily influenced by music and political movements, the current phenomenon of wanting to look homeless or poor is not.

The poverty trend really started with shoes. Taking inspiration from grunge fashion trends which included well worn Doc Martens and Converse. Many people took to manufacturing this look by purposefully making their shoes look dirty, and old. So while these may look similar, the 90s grunge style was created through thrifting and repurposing clothes. This new trend is a mockery to 90s grunge, faking a used look is pathetic, many people who are forced to wear tattered shoes would love your brand new ones. If you really want the distressed shoe aesthetic then buy them second hand, or just wear your shoes until they look worn. This has escalated severely, to the point where luxury brands such as Gucci and Balenciaga, are now selling new used looking shoes.

N.hoolywood and Magnolia Pearl have both been criticised for glamorising the poverty aesthetic. Even John Galliano, who’s 2000s homeless inspired collection later influenced the parody Zoolander film. Celebrities such as Johnny Depp have been seen wearing ‘distressed chic’ outfits which could have been seen on a homeless person, except that he’s actually wearing Magnolia Pearl.

It is no surprise that people have taken issue with the poverty aesthetic, because this is only an aesthetic for those who have the choice. It is the ultimate luxury to be able to choose to dress poor. What a poor person will be judged for wearing is now a trend for richer people. Rich people view poor people through their lens of privilege. This style is not just controversial, it is ignorant, out of touch, and overall just privileged.

Choosing to wear second hand clothing, oversized and layered outfits, is not the issue. I understand that many people choose to dress in a more alternative and grungy style which may look similar to what is worn by poor or homeless people. It is not problematic to wear distressed or tattered clothing when you can afford otherwise. Dressing in worn and second hand clothing is one of the best ways to tackle fast fashion and over consumption. The issue lies where rich people want to masquerade as poor, when luxury brands sell and promote ‘homeless chic’ fashion.

[softiejoon]

SKZ + BARBENHEIMER

warnings ; mentions of food, crying and the patriarchy

a/n ; just a silly little thing for fun (extremely barbie-biased bc i have not seen oppenheimer 🤭)

.・゜-: ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　✧　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

chan

is totally down for the double feature

equally excited for both tbh

was easily persuaded into dressing on theme

you rocking all black and a leather trench coat, and chan in baby pink and denim <33

y’all slayed

lots of snacks and drinks to sustain you both throughout the night

(chan cries during barbie)

long late night conversations after the movie <33

overall an 11/10 experience with ur ken (affectionate) !!

:-゜・．

minho

complains about it being too much effort (he’s already bought the tickets)

will do the bare minimum in terms of dressing to theme but enjoys seeing you all excited and happy

EXTREMELY engrossed throughout barbie

wouldn’t even let you out to pee at first bc you were “disrupting a very important cinematic experience”

sits through the entire end credits

“soo did you like it?” “it was okay i guess”

drags jisung along to see it again bc he knows you’d never let him live it down

:-゜・．

changbin

did not want to see oppenheimer at first

“it’s just stupid men being stupid and blowing stuff up” “okay but cillian murphy and florence pugh are in it”

only goes on the condition you both dress to the barbie theme

honestly he outdressed you. there’s no two ways about it

changbin kenned so hard you can’t help but respect it

“baby, you ready to go?” “…” 🙄 “..ken, you ready to go?” “yes barbie!!!”

needless to say you had trouble getting him to leave the theatre

“okay bin, time to go” “no they haven’t played barbie dreams by fifty fifty yet”

:-゜・．

hyunjin

soo dramatic about the entire thing

thinks himself into a panic when deciding which one to see first

then also proceeds to have a crisis about which theme to dress to

has too many outfit ideas for both and makes you watch as he models all of his 50 options

complains if you don’t give detailed feedback on each one

“ynnie are you even looking??” “hyunjin, if looks could kill right now…”

when he finally does decide on his outfit though, it’s like walking the red carpet with him

looks hella good and he knows it

lovees the photo opps (probably the best part of the night for him smh)

:-゜・．

jisung

babygirl is so excited to see barbie

thought it would be a feel-good film

is sorely mistaken when he sees you tearing up during the movie

next thing he knows, boom! (woops wrong movie) he’s bawling

listens so intently to you talk about the film afterwards that he surprises even himself

genuinely just wants to learn more so he does his own research

(and not just about horses, though it is included)

“really? you, mr jeogiyo noona hokshi namja–?” 😭😭😭

makes you buy him the kenough hoodie for emotional damage

you agree

:-゜・．

felix

he’s so excited!!!

bakes cookies for you both to sneak into the theatre

briefly considers doing a split dye just for the premiere

“lix angel we’re leaving in an hour” “fine :(”

but his pout disappears immediately when you offer to help with his makeup

“sit stilll lixie” “can’t, ‘s ticklish!”

there is pink glitter. everywhere.

bc someone insisted it was essential for the look

(he was right, it really does top it all off)

you’re also running late bc you and felix got a little distracted while finishing off his makeup

it’s not your fault his lips look so kissable with your gloss on

and it’s not felix’s fault he’s addicted to the strawberry taste on both your lips

you do eventually make it there though, just missing all the ads

safe to say there were a lot of laughs shared and tears shed <3

:-゜・．

seungmin

man this dude is the biggest pretend-hater

told you he refuses to see barbie and wants to see oppenheimer instead

you frowned and begged for him to give in but no luck

then the next thing you know you’re at the theatre and it’s two tickets for barbie

wtf??

“is this some sick mind game?”

“what, you think im that twisted? maybe we should go see oppenheimer since you love evil geniuses so much”

watches you snatch the tickets from his hand and run off with a lovesick smile on his face

for the entirety of the following week, you catch moments of seungmin humming the barbie soundtrack

always stops the second you’re around though and tells you you’re hearing things

“stop gaslighting me, that’s so un-barbie of you”

but when you finally catch him singing ‘i’m just ken’ in the shower ohoho

you throw open the bathroom door “aha! i knew it!!”

“y/n what the hell??” “i knew ittt. you lovee barbie hehe”

“whatever.. but uh since you’re here…can you pass me a towel please?”

“okay :) if you sing :))”

in the end, he got his towel and you got a full rendition of the song from your red-faced boyfriend

:-゜・．

jeongin

just doesn’t really get the hype

he was fine seeing either or none of them tbh

but you convinced him with the prospect of matching outfits <33

he’s so into it that you forget he was the one who didn’t want to go at first

literally buys you matching pieces and jewellery to wear

you have no control over your outfit at this point

but it makes him happy and you know you’re in good hands so you let him have at it

ofc you both end up looking great

makes you take a bunch of pics for his ig tho 🙄

but you get a bunch of cute couple ones in too

honestly? you couldn’t really tell what he thought of the movies after

but the next day you can hear him watching tiktok in the living area

and it’s all…barbie commentary?

there’s the occasional fashion and kpop video in the mix but video after video you can hear him listening to critical analysis of the film

“baby?” “hm?” “you good?” “yeah” then after a beat “fck the patriarchy tho”

~

© softiejoon | send me feedback/requests | support me

[baby-xemnas]

nami talking bepo into dressing up in a bunch of cute outfits with "oohhhh i bet your captain would looove this you should ask him what he thinks ;)" law has to try to survive a bepo fashion show and resist the urge to shambles them back onto the tang to rip his clothes off immediately. (crop top and denim shorts. evening dress with high thigh slit. pleated skirt and tied off button up like the britney spears toxic music video. short overalls/romper with flowers on it. thigh highs) law fails to resist the urge

(this was namis plan all along. now she can charge law for the clothes he destroyed with interest)

love...

giggling imagining bepo being like huh why are we in the women's section but nami is relentless

these clothes are much cuter and have more fun colors than plus size men's! he cant argue with that

but instead of simple options she rly hands him the sluttiest ones and law is PISSED because manipulation is way too obvious

[denim-bias]

[n3ptoonz]

'The After Party'

Pairing: Kung Lao/F!Dancer!Reader

Fandom: Mortal kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings/tags: SMUTTY!! Explicit!!! Reader is straight up a woman here, wears heels and skirts and bralettes, reader is a stripper, creampie, cunnilingus, cum on face, dry humping, Kung Lao is submissive and reader is dominant, half proofread, reader needed this fr, she her pronouns used and he calls reader gorgeous

Word count: 1.9k+

'You always come to the parties...To pluck the feathers off all the birds.'

The way you moved was mesmerizing to Kung Lao. You were the only dancer here that interested him, truly. Your moves were captivating; the technique and clear thought behind them was what he liked the most compared to the others.

'You always come to the parties...'

You noticed that he's been a regular for the last month since he discovered this place. And honestly, even though you've never really interacted other than monetarily, he's starting to become your favorite customer. The most you've said to each other was a "Thank you" and him always responding with "Anytime." You didn't even know his name--or most of your customers for that matter--but that didn't bother him.

He didn't have to be the highest paying to get your attention. Rather...he seemed to differ from other men that come and go. Appearance wise and his overall demeanor. From his stylish hats to the fact that he didn't walk into the building wearing a tux and thinking he was the man. He was simple and respectful.

'Ride, ride'

After your fourth set, you approached him again for the second round with your waist band that was already full of money and he stood up this time to add his share. He leaned closer to your ear so you could hear him better over the loud instrumental in the club.

"Will you be here for the after party?" he asked, backing up to see if you heard him. If you had a penny for every time you've been asked that question, you'd be shaking ass on a yacht in Italy.

"Sir, the dancers cannot have sex on the job." you promptly said, your facial expression being neutral as possible. He was taken aback by your statement, he just wanted to see you again, maybe even have a chat. He knew you were just reciting club rules, but damn! He thought.

"That's not- I meant it as I'd like a private dance if you'll be here. I'm also well aware of this rule. Do you think so lowly of me?" he joked, crossing his arms and smiling. With how dark the setting was in this building, his smile lit up this part of the room. Wow, he has dimples too!

He wore a denim vest over top of an armless sweatshirt that was showing off his muscles and he was surely making it work, put together with a simple pair of jeans. His playfulness did make you laugh though, and it made you want to explore his personality more. Many of the guys here bland as hell and only cared about getting off to women who would never give them a chance.

"Alright, alright, my apologies. I will be here, yes, but unfortunately the private dances are being postponed due to an incident from last week with another dancer. Instead we'll be serving while dancing."

Kung Lao frowned a bit at the news. He really was looking forward to just being with you even for a short moment. He immediately assumed the incident had to have something to do with you straight up telling him there was no sex allowed here. However...that's when an idea sparked in his head.

"Okay...could I see you after work then?"

You haven't been asked that question since you started working here, but it was always from slime balls that were the least bit of your interest. But like you thought...he was different.

'On your knees...'

He saw you actually considering it with the way your face contorted. "I see you're thinking about it." he said as he leaned down since the music was still bumping.

"Why yes...I am, sir." you gave him a teasing look. You were half in work mode and half being yourself; you truly wondered what it would be like to make his wish your command. Maybe even the other way around the way he was looking at you.

He shook his head and waved his hands at your formalities, "No need to call me sir if we're getting to know each other. My name is-"

--

"Kung Lao~" you sang his name, gripping onto his shoulders as you dry humped his thigh like your life depended on it. His hands hung by his sides and he just sat in one of the lounge chairs in your appointed dressing room. One of the main rules in any strip club was that you couldn't touch the dancers. So there he sat, under your control with his head thrown back in pure bliss.

The more you moved, the more you could feel his print peeking through his pants. He was panting like a dog and on the verge of passing out he felt so damn good. Honestly, he could cum from the friction alone, but he was secretly hoping he wouldn't like this. He'd rather on...or in you...

You pulled his head up to look at you. What you saw was what was once a smiley man with a bit of playful arrogance. A man that had the utmost respect for you and what you did for a living, turned into a boy-toy for your pleasure. What he saw was a beautiful woman looking at him like he was a piece of meat, and you were a lioness who captured her prey.

"You wanna fuck me, don't you? Be inside me?" you asked in a whisper, slowing your pace down which lead to him whining and squeezing his thighs together. The most he could do is nod and give a weak "Mhm..."

His hands began to tremble right as you pulled him free and quickly started riding him. It's been so long and he filled you so good, seeing the pride already leaving his body was turning you on even more. You both cursed and moaned in unison at the feeling of each other.

It was already the feeling of your walls wrapping around him like no other, but also your mini skirt that was hiked up past your ass. The second he looked down he was greeted by it bouncing along, only making him harder. Not to mention your breasts that threatened to fall out of the bralette you had on from your previous performance.

"You're drooling. Haven't had sex like this before, have you?" you asked, not slowing your pace in the slightest. You had a smug attitude just as bad as his, and he fucking loved that shit.

"Agh...can I please touch you? I...I might lose my mind." he muttered, unable to focus on anything else.

"You can touch me if you cum in the next minute, how about that?" you replied, making it sound like it was an impossible task. But you haven't really met Kung Lao. The man with a plan and will get the job done when needed.

He was a man who never backed down from a challenge. He's the type of guy to always pick dare and wants the absolute craziest thing someone can think of. Now pair that competitiveness with the hottest woman he has ever seen riding him and talking to him with a sweet sensual voice.

He came.

What was that? Had to be like 20 seconds after you said that and it's the last thing you expected. You didn't anticipate him shooting inside and so quickly. His eyes were shut tight and sweat beaded on his forehead; he was out of breath.

His blurry eyes could only look up at the ceiling, "Am I allowed to now?" he said, his arrogance returning behind his tone and smirk.

You laugh softly, slowly getting up from his lap and grabbing his hand, "Sure you can, but you'll be cleaning this up."

You lead him to the small couch in front of your full body mirror and sat on the cushion after putting a towel on it, pulling him down to his knees in front you. You ran your fingers through his loose hair. He knew exactly where this was going.

With not another word uttered, he lowered himself further, grabbing your thighs and pulling you forward to the edge. A gasp and chuckle came from you at the eagerness he had. The hunger in his eyes alone was turning you into a waterfall.

The glistening sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you easily made him feel like he was drunk. He pushed your legs farther apart and delved in like a man starved. Your hand practically flew to his head as your head flew back into the soft couch pillow. The flesh of your thighs spilled in between his fingers, just how he liked it.

"Oh my God..." you breathed out. He was already fully determined to eat you out with everything he had, but he absolutely positively needed you to cum on his face. Another thing you didn't know about him, he was a giver.

He may have been full of himself at times, prideful, and smug. But nothing fueled him more than being able to have bragging rights. I can see it now: he's feeling like he won a gold medal simply because you came from his tongue.

The pace at which he lapped at you made your legs all tingly, prompting you to close your thighs around his head. Watch out, because he might just cum again!

You whined and writhed above him, biting your lip to not give him too much fuel. You still had to remind him that he was the one wrapped around your finger.

He winced and hummed against your skin from you gently digging your heel into his back. The vibration from the top of his nose made you jolt a little, and now here came that growing feeling in your stomach.

"Hmm...yeah, keep going." he murmured against you, encouraging you to leave marks all over his back. Your breaths became quicker as your back arched. The heels of your black pumps clawing at the flesh of his back was just enough to make him go faster than before.

"Oh fuck, Kung Lao-" you moaned his name, gasping the closer you got.

"Let it go, gorgeous."

Finally you let loose, all over his face like he intended. He soothed you through your high as he didn't stop or slow down. The grip you had on his hair gradually lifted--needing to grab and hold onto the armchairs for leverage. Your entire body convulsed in pleasure and your hushed moans got louder.

As you both calmed down, you picked up something to fan yourself while Kung Lao kissed the inside of your thighs. He was mindful not to leave marks in consideration of your job even if he really, really wanted to. He lifted his head and kissed your stomach, smiling up at you with those pretty dimples of his.

"I haven't felt that good in so...fucking long." you said. When you looked down at him he had a big stupid grin on his face, not even bothering to wipe his face yet. You playfully rolled your eyes and took the towel from under you to fold it in half and wipe it for him.

"If this is what happens at after parties, I'm gonna have start coming here more often." he joked, but at the same time dead ass serious.

"Oh no, next time will not be happening at my place of work. I could get fired at this rate!"

You swear you could see his ears perk at the thought and confirmation that you enjoyed this so much to ensure a next time.

"Fine by me!"

a/n: TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY OOHHHHHHH i told y'all i would post that fic today 😝 i fucking enjoyed every last minute of writing this (even if it took like three weeks LMAOO)

[skinskisurf]

[myobsessionsspace]

Who is Kim Young Jin?

The man behind the looks, bringing BTS' vision to life, from photo-folios, to music videos to high fashion magazine photoshoots.

Kim YoungJin and his team have worked with the members as a group and as individuals on their concerts and everything in between.

“Seoul-based stylist Youngjin Kim has been obsessed with fashion since he was a child, saving up his pocket money to buy magazines. “It was so special to me,” he remembers. After majoring in photography at college but leaning into the looks just as heavily, somebody suggested he give styling a go and well, the rest is history. These days, he’s working with BTS, but can also be found dressing the likes of NCT 127, Super M and Daniel Kang for cover features, campaigns and album artwork.”

ID Magazine - VICE Interview (March 2022)

👤What was your entry point to styling?

“I worked as an assistant to [Korean actor] Jin Oh Jeon’s stylist for about five years and came to understand the overall system of the Korean fashion scene. Looking back, that time was so precious; time that brought me to this moment, I guess.”

The man himself, Stylist @kimvinchey on IG

Kim YoungJin styled BTS and Bang SiHyuk for their TIME Magazine 2022 photos.

Kim YoungJin has been head stylist for MVs such as 'My Universe', styling Jimin for 'Vibe', j-hope for 'On The Street' to name but a few MVs

👤Tell us about the type of work you do.

“Styling for albums and projects such as “My Universe” by BTS and Coldplay is receiving tremendous attention on a global scale. Whenever I style an idol group, I think of a designer creating a collection. I mix and match clothes from different Japanese brands such as Comme des Garçons and Yohji Yamamoto, and I express my own aesthetic with styling to fit each concept. I also style various editorials for fashion magazines. I consider myself a fashion stylist, and when I first took on the role of an idol stylist, I was proud of demonstrating what kind of visuals could be created if a fashion stylist takes on an idol.”

Kim Youngjin has worked with the members on the brand ambassadorship endeavours, such as styling for mag shoots like the Valentino photoshoot with SUGA

👤Of course, a stylist doesn’t just ‘style’. You’re often a bridge between celebrities and brands — a look you introduce to an idol could quickly become a trend.

“Exactly. In many cases, celebrities or models with good momentum are recommended to brands or magazines, and if the celebrity is an ambassador of a fashion house, they communicate more closely with the fashion brand.”

👤What do you think is the most important thing in styling?

“I try to combine the latest fashion trends with classic items. For instance, I like pairing Levi's denim and casual sneakers with a Saint Laurent blazer. As details are crucial for men's clothes, the overall outfit is often impacted by details such as perfect length and sleeves.”

In Chapter 2 of BTS' journey, Kim YounJin has been part of many of the members solo projects that were even released post enlistment for some, such as j-hope LV campaign and styling for Esquire Magazine

👤Do you have a favourite brand or designer?

“I’ve always loved Givenchy by Riccardo Tisci, which has had a huge impact on me as a stylist. I have such respect for a person who has accomplished what they’ve wanted to do for a long time — I think Miuccia Prada and Raf Simons are both great in that regard too.”

“I’m 32, so I was in elementary and middle school in the 1990s, which was when I started getting into fashion. Since I was really young, like 10 years old, I used to go downtown to buy clothes by myself. In elementary school, I wore baggy sweatshirts and jeans like this Balenciaga ensemble. I liked hip-hop and K-pop even back then and would dress up like this and dance at school festivals. Retro fashion is back in style, so it doesn’t at all look out of place or time to dress like this again.”

Mr Porter - The Journal Interview (Oct 2020)

💜

Special Mention:

**Though Taehyung has worked with Kim YoungJin with group projects the Head Stylist for Taehyung (V) during Chapter 2, in particular his Layover Era has been @HIJIBIN, Taehyung's personal stylist.

Info on Kim YoungJin:

https://www.mrporter.com/en-sg/journal/fashion/youngjin-kim-contemporary-fashion-classic-style-k-pop-1445414

[forwhump]

a/n; I have a whole truman show style day in the life thing I did w point that I was trying to find but there’s a lot of creepy weirdness to sort through first to find it & I found this one instead & I feel it’s particularly ugh so <3 couldn’t let it go to waste

enjoy some rambling point introspection :’)

tw/cw: rape, noncon, misgendering, transphobia, dehumanization, kidnapping, captivity, psychological torture, sexual exploitation, degradation, misogyny

creepy whumper, rapist pov, the ramblings of a madman, mentions of a living weapon

“I think I’m in love with you,” Point tells the naked, crying girl shackled in his bunk.

Her wrists are bleeding from how hard she had tried to fight to get them free. She isn’t fighting anymore; he’s tired her out. He likes her tired. She looks up at him with wide, wet eyes and her bare skin is so warm. Quietly, she hiccups, “there’s something really fuckin’ wrong with you.”

She’s got such a stupid accent. A real backwoods aw, shucks kind of accent. She tries to thin it out as much as possible but she hates him so much she can’t control it around him, sometimes, and he knows she hates that, too. He loves it. He loves the accent, too, even if it is stupid as all get out, even if his men make fun of him for it relentlessly. They’re all full of shit — they’d each jumped at the chance to ride the cowgirl, and they each jump, still.

She’s fuckin’ unreal in that lethal, Playboy bunny, girl next door kind of way. A real fantasy kind of way. Blonde bombshell, right? What man in their right mind doesn’t want to fuck a pretty blonde? First time Point had laid eyes on her, sitting on the floor of that trap house, he knew he was gonna keep her. She was special. She had a mouth like Princess Peach and Point could fit both hands around her waist. He was never gonna let her go. Couldn’t.

Then she spoke, and Point had been taken aback by the stupid accent, thick and unexpected, the backwater twang of banjos, denim overalls, and tooth gaps.

The milkmaid braids had been his idea, a branch of two separate, very good ideas. The first was to put her in her place; her accent was stupid, and it was embarrassing, and the hat and the boots just didn’t feel humiliating enough. The second was that she had already gotten under Point’s skin; she spoke, from the floor of that trap house, and he’d just as quickly started harbouring a fantasy of holding the farmer’s daughter by her sweet braids, tied off with ribbon, and fucking her face. Vineyard, the creative bastard, had supplied the milkmaid dress — his niece was twelve, and it had been a Halloween costume. Wren’s a tall girl, long legged, and the dress never fit her, not properly, but it never needed to. They made her wear it for a long time, anyway.

Point has an inkling that might’ve been where his thing for the accent had blossomed, but it’s hard to say. “Oh, darlin’,” he croons, and he’s mocking her. He does it a lot, and doesn’t always do it on purpose but most of the time he does — it makes her flush, and he likes her flushed.

He likes her a lot of ways, really. Tired, flushed. He likes her when she’s crying and when she’s trying to fight him off. He likes her when she’s begging and when she’s sobbing so hard she can’t choke out words. He likes her when she’s barely conscious, all soft and wet and pliant. He likes her when she’s pretending to like him because she knows he’ll kill her dog if she doesn’t. He hasn’t had her in a way, yet, in fact, that he hasn’t liked her; he actually likes the girl in all ways. He doesn’t even like his wife in all ways. It’s why he thinks he might love her — it’s why he knows he does. How typical, right? The handsome jock and the hot blonde. Who could’ve predicted it?

She’s already flushed with crying but she flushes a little darker with humiliation and Point grins.

She definitely isn’t perfect — she gets a bit shrill, and her thing for the dog upsets Point so completely he can’t think about it too hard or he loses chunks of time. But her hair is pretty, and her mouth is pretty, and her cunt is always warm, and she really is beautiful, in that really rare, really impossible kind of way.

Point would keep her all to himself if he could, right here in his bunk. He’d stop applying for leave and she’d stop having to go back to that disgusting doghouse. He’d gotten close, once, but it didn’t last. And that’s not to say he’d stop letting his men use her, either — it’s everybody else. It’s that fuckin’ dog.

He stops grinning and spits in her face.

He doesn’t mean to, not really, but he looks down at her and he sees the way she looks at that thing. Point is being generous every time he calls it a dog, but chunk of meat is just too wordy. Is what it is, though, isn’t it? An ugly chunk of meat a couple of the military’s poindexters had reanimated. She doesn’t look at Point the same way she looks at that thing, and how is that fair? She does it on purpose, just to upset him. He knows she does.

She recoils and he grabs her by the jaw. Holds her still. “Open.” She struggles, trying to lean away, and he presses the back of her head harder into his mattress. “Open,” he demands, and she does on a sob and he spits again, into her mouth. She chokes and he hears himself tell her, “you’re disgusting.” She sobs again and he spits, “stop fucking the dog.”

“I’m not —“

“And stop fuckin’ lying to me,” he snaps.

That’s her worst thing. Worse than the whining, and the fact that she opens her legs for that thing — she’s a liar. She’s always lying.

But fuck, does it almost tie with the fact that she opens her legs for that thing. He hates to think about it but it’s hard not to equate it. Does she get just as wet for him? Does she make the same noises? It would probably make him hate her if he wasn’t in love with her.

“Why can’t you just be a good girl?” He asks, and he doesn’t mean to ask so sincerely. “Why do you have to be a whore?”

She looks up at him from beneath his hand with a hatred that radiates off her like heat. He’s willing to bet she never looks at the dog like that.

He’s also willing to bet the dog doesn’t know. It’s dumb, and he can’t see the girl telling it the truth. It had been wildly protective of her from pretty early into its placement, after however long it had taken the girl to manipulate it into wrapping itself around her little finger. Something about it makes her feel safer, more secure, even if it’s just a cute little lie she tells herself to sleep better sometimes. Even with the added guard dog, she’s still here with Point. She’s still been here with Point for hours.

He doesn’t care for the dog — he thinks it’s a hideous waste of meat and a disgusting fuckin’ science experiment — but he could probably feel bad for it if he let himself. The dog is just so dumb and it has no idea that its little girlfriend is a well fucked whore and if that if Point plays his cards just right he can get her to beg for his cock.

“You could be perfect,” he tells her.

She’s still crying — she’s usually crying — and she’s always doe eyed but when she cries it makes her eyes look a lot bigger and makes her look really scared and really pathetic. Point’s always thought she looks prettiest when she’s scared.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” she tells him, and she enunciates very carefully.

“Shucks,” he mocks, and grins when she flushes, predictably. Fuck, she’s pretty. If nothing else, she’s pretty. It’s almost enough to forget the stupid hillbilly accent and the fact that she fucks dogs.

He puts his hand on her thigh. She tries to flinch away but he holds her there, pressing bruises into her pale thigh in the shape of his fingertips. Vineyard bites her, fucks her up pretty bad sometimes, likes to mark her that way, but Point’s never cared much for biting. Point’s always liked to bruise.

He pushes her thighs apart and the way she trembles in his hands makes him smile. “Stop,” she begs, and the poor girl must be so tired but she makes a valiant attempt to fight him off, anyway. “Please. Please, no more.”

Point clicks his tongue as he settles between her legs. “You know you don’t get to decide when we’re done here, cowgirl,” he says. He holds her down against his sheets, standard issue — black, as opposed to the asset grey. Better thread count, too. The girl should be grateful, he thinks, that he prefers to fuck her here, on the best sheets in their chunk of the district, instead of the shitty sheets in the unit, instead of the concrete of any of the floors.

Point would love, in his wildest fantasies, to get her furlough and fuck her at home. His wife was in charge of the furnishing and all that, because why does he give a shit? But she knocked it out of the park with their sheets. The mattress, too. The whole bed is great, and Point would love to get the girl out of here and fuck her on it for days consecutive. He would love to ruin those sheets. But it would be sticky, ‘cause he’d have to get his wife and all four of the kids out of the house and to stay away from the house at the same time. The neighbourhood is affluent, but that annoying, gossipy sort of affluent that his wife finds so friendly but that makes Point sick and enraged. If he sent his wife and children on vacation, then showed up at the house, with or without a blonde considerably hotter and younger than his wife, they’d gossip. His wife would find out, at the very least, that he took leave and didn’t mention it to her, and that’s a can of worms he doesn’t think he wants to open. That’s the debate, at least.

But it’s an ongoing debate. Every time he’s eligible for leave again, he considers it. Sometimes, in his bunk with this girl, when her skin is especially warm and her cunt is especially wet, he thinks it would be worth it.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he tells her again.

She sobs.