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uwmspeccoll · 7 months
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Indigenous People's Day
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DR. HENRIETTA MANN Cheyenne
On this Indigenous People’s Day, we are featuring Matika Wilbur’s recent publication Project 562: Changing the Way We See Native America, published by Ten Speed Press in 2023. Wilbur (b. 1984) is a visual storyteller and member of the Swinomish and Tulalip peoples of coastal Washington. She holds a degree from the Brooks Institute of Photography alongside a teaching certificate that has shaped her style of educating through narrative portraits.  
Project 562: Changing the Way We See Native America, a book born from a documentary project of the same name, resolves to share contemporary Native issues and culture. In 2012 Wilbur set out from Seattle to visit and photograph all 562 plus Native American sovereign territories in the United States.
Wilbur’s engagement with the communities she visited resulted in the creation of hundreds of dynamic portraits and documentation of conversations about “tribal sovereignty, self-determination, wellness, recovery from historical trauma, decolonization of the mind, and revitalization of culture.” She refers to her portraiture approach as “an indigenous photography method” that includes several hours and sometimes days of interaction with the participants, an exchange of energy and gifts, and asking sitters to choose their portrait location. The outcome is a stunning collection of Native narratives and portraits.  
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GREG BISKAKONE JOHNSON Lac Du Flambeau Band of Lake Superior Chippewa Indians
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HOLLY MITITQUQ NORDLUM  Iñupiaq
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J. MIKO THOMAS Chickasaw Nation
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MOIRA REDCORN Osage, Caddo
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HELENA and PRESTON ARROW-WEED Taos Pueblo/Kwaatsaan, Kamia
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STEPHEN YELLOWTAIL Apsáalooke (Crow Nation)
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LEI'OHU and LA'AKEA CHUN Kānaka Maoli
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ORLANDO BEGAY Diné
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KALE NISSEN Colville Tribes
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GRACE ROMERO PACHECO Santa Ynez Band of Chumash Indians
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ISABELLA and ALYSSA KLAIN Diné
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NANCY WILBUR Swinomish
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DR. JEREMIAH "JERRY" WOLFE Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians
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RUTH DEMMERT Tlingit
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MARVA SII~XUUTESNA JONES Tolowa Dee-Ni' Nation, Yurok, Karuk, Wintu
Matika Wilbur will be speaking on UW-Milwaukee's campus Thursday, November 16 from 6-7p.m. in conjunction with her exhibition Seeds of Culture: The Portraits and Voices of Native American Women on view at the Union Art Gallery November 16 through December 15, 2023. 
-Jenna, Special Collections Graduate Intern 
We acknowledge that in Milwaukee we live and work on traditional Potawatomi, Ho-Chunk, and Menominee homelands along the southwest shores of Michigami, part of North America’s largest system of freshwater lakes, where the Milwaukee, Menominee, and Kinnickinnic rivers meet and the people of Wisconsin’s sovereign Anishinaabe, Ho-Chunk, Menominee, Oneida, and Mohican nations remain present.
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smashpages · 6 months
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Out this week: Watership Down (Ten Speed Press, $26.99): James Sturm and Joe Sutphin adapt the classic tale of warring rabbit tribes by Richard Adams into a graphic novel.
See what else is arriving at local comic shops this week.
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wasznu · 2 years
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Thanks to offspring for the new book for this collection
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graphicpolicy · 8 days
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Advocate is an interesting graphic memoir exploring non-profit advocacy and family
Advocate is an interesting graphic memoir exploring non-profit advocacy and family #comics #comicbooks #graphicnovel
A moving graphic memoir following Eddie Ahn, an environmental justice lawyer and activist striving to serve diverse communities in San Francisco amidst environmental catastrophes, an accelerating tide of racial and economic inequality, burnout, and his family’s expectations. Story: Eddie AhnArt: Eddie Ahn Get your copy now! To find a comic shop near you, visit http://www.comicshoplocator.com or…
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iwilldestroytom · 5 months
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Recipe for The Brunch Box In this beer cocktail with an Italian flair and a refreshing finish, amaro is combined with grapefruit juice and beer. act as an aperitif. 1 fluid ounce freshly squeezed grapefruit juice, 5 fluid ounces lager beer chilled, 1 fluid ounce Montenegro amaro liqueur
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dynamobooks · 6 months
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Tom Scioli: I Am Stan: A Graphic Biography of the Legendary Stan Lee (2023)
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thegeekiary · 7 months
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"Nothing Special" Webcomic Heading to Print
It’s been a while since I recommended a webcomic, but one of the first series that I highlighted was Katie Cook’s Nothing Special. The sweet story of a teenager who inspires the spirits of dead plants and her part-fairy boyfriend, Nothing Special has been one of my happy places since I stumbled across it on Webtoon. And now it’s coming to print! Continue reading Untitled
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lordakiyama · 1 year
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Primary Pick Ups
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reubenhernandez · 2 years
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Coastlines: At the Water's Edge hardcover book
I’m excited to announce that one of my Antarctica images has been published in the hardcover book, Coastlines: At the Water’s Edge by Emily Nathan, published by Ten Speed Press and released this week. This is my first book publication so I’m absolutely honored to be a part of this project. I received an advance copy of the book earlier this month and was pleasantly surprised to see how beautiful and stunning the book turned out. It’s been wonderful to see my image in print and to share my work with a broader audience. Coastlines is a love letter to the sea and the planet that’s been years in the making, and we hope it will inspire you to take small and large steps to protect our planet.
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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months
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common tongue of you lovin' me
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🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut
🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader
wc: 2.5k 
content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope
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foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o
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By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.
Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.
You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 
Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.
He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  
Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 
Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…
Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  
You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.
“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”
Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”
You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.
Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.
“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.
He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”
There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”
He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”
“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 
“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 
When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 
So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  
You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.
But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 
You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.
“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.
Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.
It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.
He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.
When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 
“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”
“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.
“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.
The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.
You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.
“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.
Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”
So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 
Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”
When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.
“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”
He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.
Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.
He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.
Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”
“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 
Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.
“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”
Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”
He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”
You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”
“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”
He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.
When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.
“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”
His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”
“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”
You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 
The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 
“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”
“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 
Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 
You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 
“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.
His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”
You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”
Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”
You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”
He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”
He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.
He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 
When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”
You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 
________
guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me 
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murdrdocs · 5 months
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coriolanus snow who likes the chase. suggestive 17+
he likes to kiss you stupid, having you pressed against a tree not far from the lake lucy gray and the rest of your family had showed him. a hand above your head, the other at your waist. and then he likes to pull back, your eyes closed as you bask in the kiss. he nips at your earlobe, maybe kisses along your neck, and just when your legs start to part and you begin to expect more, he growls in your ear.
“run.”
your eyes open, you stare at him trying to gauge how serious he is, and once you see that his blue eyes are mostly clouded with sincerity and adrenaline (a bit of amusement woven in them) you take off into the woods.
your feet patter against the earth, your voice lets out squeals and shrieks of joy as you dodge branches and jump over sticks.
coriolanus gives you a head start. he counts to ten, he even waits a few extra moments, and then he’s following you. he’s dodging trees and branches with a little more accuracy and speed, training having treated him well. but you’re still fast.
your mistake, though, lies in your over enthusiasm. you’re too loud, too giggly, and you risk looking far too often.
you’re hiding, coriolanus knows that, but he’s a little stuck on where. that’s until he hears a giggle come from his right, and when he casts his gaze that way, he catches a glimpse of your head hiding back behind the tree.
he’s got you now. stealthily approaching you, keeping his breathing steady and avoiding as many twigs as he can, and you’re looking the other way around the thick tree when he catches you.
you squeal when he pulls you back against his chest, but you don’t bother thrashing around. most times, coriolanus prefers when you try to resist. when you break free and run a few paces only to stumble to the ground, making it easier for him to fall above you and take you there.
either way, he enjoys when he’s able to claim his prize. he likes having worked for it. and he especially likes how you let him claim it, how you give it up by parting your legs and allowing him to lift your skirt with minimal to no protesting from you.
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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
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big dad vibes.
dad!ln x fem!reader
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in which lando becomes a dad, and a series of moments that follow
back with more brainrot! this time it’s for dad!lando bc the baby fever is fevering and lando just had to go and talk about having kids on that podcast. my first time using social media elements as well so i hope you enjoy! ALSO! huge thank you for 3k, love you all and i cannot thank you enough for your support! 💘
warnings: minors pls dni with my work! mentions of pregnancy, children, minor angst, super duper fluff, suggestive jokes here and there, dilf!lando
1. the birth
lando’s legs couldn’t have carried him any faster than they already were. the hospital rooms disappeared past in a flash, his eyes scanning the hallways for one door. everything he’d ever wanted waited for him on the other side of that one door.
it was typical, really, that the one time he’d left your side since the season ended, you went into labour. he’d begdrudgingly listened when you told him to go to his meeting, despite the feeling in his gut that told him not to. lando knew, now, that his instincts were right.
the second he’d seen your face flash up on his phone, he was out of the conference room. you wouldn’t have called him unless it was an emergency. everything seemed to be moving in slow motion when he put the phone down, but then he was sprinting, through the double doors before him, past the line of cars, and out towards his car, speeding away from the MTC. the traffic fine he knew he was in for was worth it.
your words rang in his ears.
“lando… it’s time.” you’d breathed down the phone, accompanied by a shaky laugh.
and now he was looking at the door. it opened, slowly, and there you were, draped in a hospital gown, tired eyes bloodshot and soft. you were smiling, crying, and he fell to his knees before you.
“someone wants to meet you.” you cooed, and then he was crying too.
lando squeezed your knee, trying to pull himself together but it was futile. the most precious ray of light stirred in your arms, how would he ever be able to stop crying? you’d created that, you and him, and now she was here.
“can i…?” lando stood from where he was worshipping you, hoodie sleeve mopping up his tears.
“take all that off.” you replied.
“trying to get me naked already? i thought it would be at least six weeks-“ he teased.
“no, you sod. skin on skin contact.” you groaned, grinning helplessly at the man that had made you a mother.
he laughed along with you quietly, stripping the layers and sitting beside you on the hospital bed. you searched his excited eyes, melting as you placed your little girl in his awaiting arms.
and then he was falling in love.
the winter sunlight streamed through the window, a soft glow encapsulating your little family. lando sat next to you in dead silence, counting ten little fingers, ten little toes, memorising the dimpled curve of two lips, the crease between two softly shut eyes. his heart was bursting in a way it never had before, a new lease of life breathed into his body that fulfilled him more than anything ever had.
“are you okay, baby? i’m so sorry i wasn’t here.” lando mumbled, kissing your shoulder. he looked up at you, scanning your tired face, knowing that you’d never looked so beautiful. you cupped his cheek, pressing your forehead against his.
“the pain was worth it.” you quirked your lips, tilting your head so that you could kiss him. you felt his fresh tears wetting your cheeks, and you smiled into the kiss.
“i got here as quick as i could, i’m so sorry i wasn’t here to hold your hand.” lando was heartbroken to have missed the birth of his first child, guilty even, but you wouldn’t let that feeling linger.
“i’m just happy that you’re here now, i promise. we’ve gotta name this little love.” you pecked his lips again, cuddling into his side.
you’d been backwards and forwards on names for months, never landing on anything that seemed to fit. you’d read countless lists of names, brainstormed names of people you loved, but you just couldn’t agree.
“can we talk about it later? just wanna look at her for a bit longer. like, forever.” lando mumbled, and as if she recognised her daddy’s voice, your baby’s grey blue eyes fluttered open.
“oh.” he gasped.
you watched in pure adoration as they stared at each other, neither of them willing to look away first. a bond was forming before your eyes, and you felt like the earth was moving under your feet.
lando knew, staring into big blue eyes, that nothing would ever be the same again.
landonorris via instagram
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landonorris: welcome to the world, the one and only matilda norris ❤️
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2. the race
“lando, you cannot take her into the bloody media pen!” you scolded, ignoring the bark of a laugh he let out in response.
you were midway through changing matilda’s nappy, dressing her in the tiny mclaren t-shirt that the team had gifted you when you welcomed her to the world.
she was nearly six months old now, with the cutest smile and a laugh that could bring an entire room to tears. you were at your home in monaco, preparing to descend down the hills towards the marina where the race would be. this would be her first race weekend, and lando couldn’t have been more excited for her to make her debut at the track.
he also couldn’t have been more nervous.
the idea of putting your baby into such a hectic environment made lando sweat, which was why you’d left it until monaco, so that you had a home base to sneak away to if it all got too much.
“are you nearly ready to go, baby?” lando came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he was peering over your shoulder, gazing at the giggling baby on her changing mat. “and what about you, matty? you ready to watch daddy drive?”
“i’m sure you’ll have her undivided attention.” you joked, turning your head to kiss his jaw. “can you put her in the car?”
lando scooped up his daughter, placing her gently into the baby carrier. you grabbed the changing bag and followed him out of the apartment, smiling hard at the quiet nursery rhyme he was singing. you locked up and trailed behind the duo, watching intently as he secured matilda’s car seat.
“see something you like?”lando called behind him, shaking his ass at you cheekily.
“you know i do, that’s how i got pregnant.” you stuck your tongue out at him.
-
the entire weekend was hectic, lando having the time of his life. he’d put his mclaren on the front row, the race flying by where he claimed second place and a rightful spot of the podium. you’d kissed him hard, matilda’s grabby hands tugging at his curls when he’d dipped down to press his lips to yours. he smirked, scheming something, and then he took the infant from under your arm, whisking her over to his interview.
“lando norris, what a race that was for you!” jenson button bellowed into the mic. “and it looks like you’ve been busy off track, too! who’s this little one?”
“the one and only matilda norris.” lando replied, pearly whites on display. he’d never looked happier, and you could feel your eyes welling with tears. lando grabbed her little hand softly, making her wave at the camera. “proud of daddy, matty?” he cooed, and you were a wreck.
landonorris via instagram
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landonorris: matty’s first race 🏎️ 🧡
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3. that time matilda crawled
“babe!” lando’s voice echoed through the house, up into your bedroom. you were fresh out of the shower, wringing your hair dry with a towel, nearly jumping out of your skin when he called.
“what is it, honey?” you shouted back, grabbing your (his) robe from the back of the door.
“you gotta come see this.” he sounded giddy and you bounded down the stairs, speeding into the living room.
“what’s going on?” you asked him, watching him practically jumping up and down with excitement.
“matty crawled.” lando beamed.
your eyes flitted to your daughter, sat quite casually on her play-mat.
“uh…” you said slowly. you wanted to believe him, but the evidence was not lining up. she was getting closer each day, but still seemed to be a tad far off of going the full stretch.
“she did! i swear!” he turned his attention back to matilda, dropping to the floor beside her. “c’mon matty, show mummy! i know you can do it, sweetie.” lando cooed.
“can i finish getting ready?”
“baby, she’s gonna do it again and you’re gonna miss it!”
“okay, just shout if she starts spitting bars.” you teased, turning to leave.
lando was pouting, but as if she sensed her fathers frustration, matilda had a point to prove. she pushed herself up from her tummy, fighting her way towards you.
“oh, my love.” you cooed, hand splayed over your mouth. she was growing up way too fast, but that was eclipsed by the pride bubbling hot in your chest.
“see?” lando pulled you into his side, gleeful. you moulded into him, lip quivering as you watched her wriggle around. “oh, baby, don’t cry.” he pressed a kiss to your hairline.
“happy tears, i promise.”
“she’s so clever, just like her mama.”
-
5. the backlash
the clips circulating online made you feel ill.
lando had just done another podcast, and the topic of his family had come up. they’d set the trap, and he’d fallen right into it, pressuring him about how he approached racing and being a father. he’d tried, bless him, but the way they’d cut the interview made it look like little matty played second fiddle to daddy’s racing car.
you’d been in the studio while your baby slept peacefully beside you, you knew exactly what he’d said, and now the tweets circulating about your boyfriend made you want to scream.
you were no stranger to the occasional landogate, but he’d gotten a lot better over the years. lando didn’t care much for the way the media twisted his words anymore, but when it came to his family, his flesh and blood, he quite simply couldn’t take it.
lando hadn’t come out of his gaming room all day. you’d let him marinate for a few hours, but you hadn’t seen him in too long, and you were starting to panic. matty kept spitting out little strings of words, dadadada spluttering out her little mouth. she wanted him, and you needed him, so you swept her up in your arms and carried her up the stairs.
you tapped on the door, pushing it open before you got a response. he was slumped in his gaming chair, hood up, spinning around aimlessly. he looked so deflated, staring at nothing, manufactured guilt eating him up.
“hey, honey. matty wants her daddy.” you called softly, wading into the room. lando sighed, but took her out of your arms immediately.
“better take what i can get, before she realises what a terrible father i am.” he mumbled sarcastically.
“hey, no. don’t do that, lando. don’t fall into this mindset. you and i both know that you’re a fucking amazing father.” you wagged your finger at him as you spoke. he just slumped further into his seat, letting matty pull at the drawstrings of his hoodie.
“maybe they’re right, though. i was always so scared of this part. what if she grows up and is ashamed of me?” he whispered, eyes honing in on his daughter.
“oh, baby.” it physically hurt you to see him so down on himself. you were ready to burn twitter to the fucking ground. “you’re the best father i could have wished for. she’s literally a little lando! god, honey, she loves you so much. and of course she would - you’re her whole world.”
“when she won’t sleep with me, ten seconds in your arms, and she conked out. when she’s bored, she only wants her dad. don’t even get me started on that annoying stubborn streak she’s showing. lando, she could never be ashamed of you. she is you.” you continued.
lando sighed shakily, pressing a kiss to matty’s forehead before placing her carefully on the ground. some of her toys were scattered there, so she made a beeline for her orange teddy, without a care in the world for you and lando. he spread his arms for you, ushering you in and you sat on his lap, cuddling into him.
“i love you, baby. you don’t know how thankful i am that you gave me this life.” he said into your chest, kissing right over your heart.
you knew everything would be okay, anyone with eyes could see how much he adored his little girl. and anyway, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought; all that mattered was that you had each other, and that was more than enough for lando.
-
5. matty’s first birthday!
your house was full of laughter, shades of pink, purple and yellow decorating every surface. balloons covered the ceiling, a big 1 taking up half your kitchen. and in the middle of all the colourful chaos, your boyfriend held your one year old daughter, bouncing her on his knee.
they were a picture, a truly stunning one, two identical sets of eyes crinkling at the corners while they laughed together. your heart was bursting, nothing able to contain the butterflies in your stomach as you watched the two greatest loves of your life.
stuffed toys and little pairs of shoes covered every surface, wrapped up with big ribbons. all of your favourite people were in one room, your families coming together with all of your friends to celebrate 365 days of matilda.
matty had spent her day playing with sylvie, george’s young daughter, while lando took photos from every angle humanly possible. then there was the cake, which lando had let the little girl smash all over her face. you’d scold him later, the moment was far too precious.
you were caught up watching lando play with matilda, when max came up to you.
“never seen him happier.” max beamed, pulling you into a side hug. you ruffled his hair in response.
“can’t believe we made her.” you muttered, head falling against his shoulder. you were awestruck.
“when are you having another one? he’s gagging for it.” max was joking with you, but the look you gave him made him do a double, triple, quadruple take. you were smirking. “wait… wait what?”
“sooner than you might think.” you patted your tummy slyly. “he doesn’t know yet, i only just found out last night. wanted matty to have her day and then i’ll tell him when she’s gone to sleep.”
max was staring at you, bewildered. you may have even seen a tear in his eye.
“oh, i love you guys. so fucking happy for you.” he whispered.
you caught sight of lando watching, his head tilted in confusion. you just winked at him.
-
“she went down easy. think today really took it out of her.” lando said as he walked into your bedroom. you were sat waiting for him, hands resting behind your back.
“thank you for today, it was perfect.” you beamed when he leaned down to kiss you.
you watched him get ready for bed, stripping down to just his sweats, and then he joined you, lounging across the foot of the bed.
“hey, what were you talking to max about, babe?” lando asked.
“a gift that i got you.” you replied coyly.
“a gift?” lando looked confused, and the confusion only grew when you pulled your hands from behind your back, placing a little gift bag in front of him.
“yep. hope you like it.” you kept your expression neutral.
he picked up the bag, rustling through the tissue paper, and then he found it.
a little white stick.
lando stared blankly, eyes flitting rapidly between your face and the pregnancy test in his hand.
“baby…” he started, but he lost his train of thought. instead, he launched himself at you, cuddling you into the mattress. you were laughing while he pressed his lips all over your face, your neck, ending with your belly.
“good gift?” you giggled, watching as his hand smoothed over the soft skin of your tummy.
“the fucking best.”
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landonorris: for matty’s first birthday, we’re giving her a sibling 🫶
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6. family sized
lando norris, father of two, reporting for duty.
leo norris was born under the english sun, the late august heat making your labour a difficult one.
from the minute he was born, leo had a personality, angry, passionate eyes glaring at you and lando, a cry tearing from him that could end wars. he was gonna be a force, that little boy, not that you were complaining.
lando had fallen in love again, only having a few days to adjust before he was racing around europe, but he always found a way to slip into bed with you in the early hours of monday mornings, leo sprawled across his tanned chest. he’d watch the two of you sleep, listening out for matty down the hall.
and then she’d wake up, and lando would lay leo by your side, padding next door to your daughters bedroom. the pitter patter of her little feet and lando’s big laugh would wake you up. mornings were the best part of your day, all four of you tucked up in bed together before the chaos began.
it was hard sometimes, but life was bliss. you had the most wonderful partner, two gorgeous children, happiness that you couldn’t have ever fathomed right at your fingertips.
lando finally realised how big the world was, now that his family was often on the other side of it. he ached every second his heart was away from his kids but watching them grow, getting to see them smile, matilda clinging to his legs the second he came home, made it all worth it.
and god, coming home to you, whether you were waiting with open arms at the door or tucked up in white linen bedsheets in one of his t-shirts, was fucking delightful. you were his person, the one that gave him a reason to get up and smile, and he’d do quite possibly anything to keep you happy until you were old and grey by his side.
“matty, what do you say when we say goodbye to chat?” lando asked his little girl.
he was wrapping up a stream, matilda finding her rightful place as his new cohost - max was hardly coping with being replaced but that was a separate issue.
lando bowed his head, looking at matty encouragingly and she beamed hard at the screen. she was two years old, with the bubbliest personality and the brightest eyes in the entire world.
“gg boys.” she grinned toothily at the camera, and lando’s squawk of a laugh summoned you into the room.
lando was logging off when you walked in, watching from the doorway. leo was down for his nap, and matty was soon due hers.
“what are you two getting up to?” you chimed in, leaning into the wall.
“matty’s gonna be a gamer.” lando said in his sing-song voice, the one he reserved for when one of his kids did something that made his eyes sparkle.
“no call of duty.” you said sternly, looking at him pointedly.
“don’t worry, baby. f1 game only, she’s gonna be a racing driver.”
“just like her daddy.” you whispered, watching the duo high five in their matching hoodies.
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landonorris: @/mclaren i’m gonna need a bigger car
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youruser: big dad vibes 💘
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7. long time coming
lando held his son tight, watching you and matty examine tiny sea shells in the little rock pools that were forming. the sun was setting over the monegasque beach, beams of pink and orange light bathing your family as it bounced off the soft waves.
leo was wriggling in lando’s arms, the two year old boy desperate to join his mother and his sister splashing around in the shallows, but lando kept a hold of him. leo was too mischievous for his own good, cheekier than the average two year old. perhaps it had something to do with who his father was.
“daddy, come look.” matty called, so lando waded into the water, ankle deep. that little girl had him wrapped around her finger. he cast his eyes over matilda’s inquisitive face, glancing at you for just a second, and that’s all it took for you to steal the air from his lungs.
you were more radiant than ever, as beautiful as the day he’d met you and fallen so helplessly in love. he hadn’t stopped falling in love since. you’d made him a father, you’d given him a family, you’d taught him what it was to be truly, unequivocally happy.
and now all you had to say was yes.
“that’s lovely, sweetie.” lando cooed at matty, eyeing the handful of seashells she’d collected. “wanna go play on the sand? we have that gift to give mummy.” lando winked at the little girl, who took off running, splashing sea water over you both.
once she was out of earshot, you turned to lando.
“you’re not pregnant, are you?” you teased, thinking back to the gift you’d given him those years ago, who was now tucked sleepily into lando’s chest.
“how did you know?” lando joked back.
he grabbed your hand, toes sinking into the sand as you made your way towards matty, who was fidgeting on the picnic blanket you’d laid out earlier. as soon as you reached her, lando gave her the sly nod, the signal that he’d taught her over the last few days, and her sweet little voice called out to you.
“mummy?”
“yes, my love?” you kneeled down on the blanket, eye level with your daughter.
“daddy wants to ask you something.” her doe blue eyes twinkled in the setting sun, and you whipped your head around to look at lando.
lando, who was down on one knee, balancing his son in one hand and the biggest fucking diamond ring you’d ever seen in the other.
“should’ve done this about four years ago, but we were busy popping out kids.” lando breathed, his eyes watery. you were already in tears. “my love, where do i even begin? i’m nothing without you, and every time i leave you, i leave my entire heart behind, so please, will you marry me?”
tears streamed down your face, and lando sat the squirmy toddler down next to his sister, who was bouncing on the balls of her feet.
you surged forward, the force of your movement leaving you both in the sand. you clung to him, lips meeting his with sweet urgency. you mumbled a million yes’s into the kiss, no one left in the world but you and him, and your two beautiful children.
and when you pulled away, you scooped your babies into your arms, holding them tight, knowing that you were in the presence of the purest form of love.
your little family, complete…
…for now.
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youruser: family day out 🥹🫠❤️‍🔥
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i don’t know how to write fluff lol
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smashpages · 1 year
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Ten Speed Press has revealed the final cover for their Free Comic Book Day offering for 2023, I Am Stan by Tom Scioli.
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fantasylandloser · 9 months
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marriage pact
summary: besties that plan to get married
warnings: smut, mdni, dry humping, idrk what else I should put here so message me and lmk, steve's happy trail, slutty steve, big dick steve
pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
A/n: This started off as one thing then it manifested into something else, and this is 4k words of idk and there MIGHT be a part 2
update here is part 2
****
Steve loved your slumber parties that had carried over from your childhood. Initially the two of you would binge watch movies, while his parents were who knows where. Up until you were about twelve he slept in the bed with you until one day your parents decided that he couldn’t do that anymore and gave him his own room for when he stayed over. 
Your family was well off due to your father being in business with his and it was probably no big deal for them, but Steve appreciated it nevertheless. He felt so loved in your home, so he made it his second. He was there at least three nights a week, until the two of you got into highschool and his dad wanted him to get serious about basketball. Then it was late night practices and meeting up with girls. He still came around at least once a week for dinners, but usually he was busy. 
You were surprised when he didn’t go away for college. Even more so when he decided to get his own job and start at the community college in Hawkins instead of living off his parents. Eventually he was back to being at your house all the time, until one day your mom randomly asked him to move in, suggesting that he was there all the time anyway. Which he agreed to with speed. So, now your slumber parties were more frequent, and more fun now that you were adults and your mom took away the rule that Steve couldn’t stay in your room.
Now your slumber parties included the two of you gossiping for hours on end about who was pregnant, talking through movies, and newly you doing Steve’s skincare. At first he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it, until one day you decided you didn’t feel like it and he begged you to do it anyway.
“Close your eyes.” You say from your position on his stomach, your thighs fitting snug on each side of him. One of his hands resting on each one. You didn’t need to be sitting on him of course, but Steve claimed it would be easier on your back if he were laying down (which was not true) but you went along with it because it was Steve.
“So bossy.” He murmurs but closes his eyes nonetheless, his fingers messing with the hem of your shorts. You hum in acknowledgement not really able to focus on the task at hand. 
“Is this new?” Steve asks, referring to the cool goopy substance that you were putting on his face.
“Yeah, I’m testing it on you before I put it on my face.” You say jokingly. But not really, considering that's what you were actually doing.
The snort Steve lets out brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’ve been your test dummy since we were kids so I’m not surprised.” 
“Glad that you finally accepted the dynamic of this friendship. Now stop talking.” He huffs at the command but still listens anyway, a small smile resting on his face,that you could never ask him to wipe away. Your brain short circuits a bit when he pulls his hand back to the center of your thigh, his thumb continuously rubbing over the smooth skin. You couldn’t help but wonder when that got added to the dynamic of your friendship. 
“Now sit with that for ten minutes.” You could see him getting ready to protest so you quickly added, “and be still!” You know he’s gonna bitch about it when you go to take the mask off. He hates sitting still more than anything but he could deal for ten minutes.
When he feels the pressure from your body weight pressing into his stomach start to lighten, his hands finding your waist even with his eyes closed.
“Steve.” You huff, knowing he’s not going to let you move until he can, but it’s not like you actually put up a fight. Not like you actually wanted to be away from his warmth. So you stayed simply sitting on him for ten minutes. Watching him, thinking about how he was still so pretty even with the mask on his face.
When it was time for you to take it off. You almost didn’t want to, but you did , pleased to see that the product left him glowing. 
Steve finally opened his eyes after almost falling asleep when he heard you sigh sweetly. “All done?” He asks hoping that you weren’t even though he’d been laying there for about thirty minutes.  
“Yep.” You say until you remember the little gift you picked up for him at the store. “Wait one more thing.” Steve lets you get off him this time, a little hesitant but you don’t point it out. 
When you come back with what looked like a broken whisk, Steve was a little reluctant. “I think this is where my test dummy days end.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics sliding back to your spot on his stomach.
“You’ll like it.” You tell him. Despite the growing anticipation about whatever the device was, Steve is quick to accept you and it into his space, his hands on your hips to steady you as you sit down. 
“I doubt- fuckkk.” Steve moans raggedly, cutting himself off and surprising you, making you stop your movements with the hair massager. You catch your composure quickly though, continuing to massage his scalp.
“So dramatic.” You try to tease, to lighten the heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You knew Steve had a thing for getting his hair pulled. He hooked up with half the girls in your class, so his likes and dislikes tended to get around and made for some pretty interesting lunch room conversations.
You didn’t realize a scalp massage would elicit the same reaction. You also didn’t realize that his reaction would have an effect on you. His whole body seemed to glitch. HIs eyes are barely able to stay open and the grip on your hips tightening.
Once his initial dramatics calmed down, he began letting out soft appreciative sighs. His grip on you fades to soft circles on your thighs.
“I’m gonna marry you.” He tells you, with his eyes closed. You knew he meant it. He told you that he wanted to marry you one day in high school. He’d been drunk but he let you all the way in on his plan to make a life with you, one day when you’re both ready.
He told you how he thought about building a house for you, and having your last name be harrington and how he wanted to have a bunch of kids with you. You thought he’d been joking teasing him about it the next day, but he simply smiled at you with a blush forming on his cheeks telling you that he meant it.
Ever since then, every couple of months he’d say it again. Like he was reminding you, or really asking you to wait for him. Which you did. Neither of you had made much of a move or anything and sometimes one of you would date  someone else, but in the back of your mind you would always remember that you were marrying Steve and that’s just the way it was.
“Mhmm.” You hum, simply acknowledging like usual. To your surprise Steve's eyes open and he zeroes in on your face. 
“I’m serious.” He’d never done this before, made more room for conversation about it. He seemed like he wanted more than gentle acknowledgment.
“I know.” You say, pretending to busy yourself as you set the massager to the side, just to get away from the intense way he’s looking at you. When he sits up on the headboard you know he means business. You never guessed now would be the time you finally actually talked about it.
“Do you really?” He asks. Steve didn’t know if you knew how serious he was.
“Yeah.. we’re getting married.” You tell him, fidgeting with one of his hands in your, absently looking at his nails instead of him. “You’re gonna build me a two story house, two streets away from my moms. In that field we used to play in. And we’re gonna have six babies and I will not let you help me name any of them because I already have a list.” You catch a quick glimpse of his face. “I remember.” You tell him. 
You expect him to let it go now that you’ve rehashed the entire plan he layed out for you years ago. You don’t remember when you got so attached to the idea. Or when you started contributing your own dreams to the plan but it had grown for you and speaking it out loud you realized how badly you needed it to happen.
“You have a list?” Steve’s chest was warm as it dawned on him that you wanted a future with him the same way he did with you.
Your face warmed, embarrassed thinking that he would tease you. “Yes. They’re all non negotiable.”
“Can I see it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Please, honey.” Honey. This is no longer best friend Steve. This is future husband Steve, making his first ever appearance. 
When you shake your head with a shy smile, Steve can’t help but smile back.”Why not?” He asks you in that same soft voice that had you feeling gooey on the inside. 
“Stop using that voice.” You whisper, feeling flushed. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d never known you to be shy, but here you were being all bossy while hiding your face in his neck. 
“You’re so perfect.” He’s teasing you, trying to see how embarrassed you’ll get. He also means every bit. “Prettiest girl in the world.”
“You’re bein’ weird.” You tell him unsure what to do with yourself with all these changes being made so quickly.  
“It was weird not telling you how beautiful you are everyday.” You don’t expect him to keep listing. “So sweet, too.” He adds. “Always taking care of me and never letting me praise you for it. I can’t wait to take care of you.” The implications of that do not go over your head. “Bet you’ll be such a good little wife.” 
Steve expects you to make some little quip or try to play off how embarrassed you feel. He’s expecting you to descelate how quickly he’s moving. But instead your voice whispers “I hope so.” You’re right in his ear too, so he knows he isn’t mistaken and he knows that this is the last night you’ll ever consider yourself just friends.
*****
Steve should have kissed you last night. He can’t help but think about that over and over, as he realizes he didn’t seal the deal. He should have done something to prove to you how serious he was. 
But it was too late because he didn’t kiss you and the morning had been decidedly awkward when you realized you didn’t know what any of that meant for your immediate friendship. Because initially the plan had been to wait. Was the wait over? Did you want it to be over? You spent the majority of your day trying not to think about it. Steve however wouldn’t shut up about it. Sadly for Robin she had to be on the receiving end of this conversation.
“Robin, this is serious. What if I fucked everything up? What if she thinks I’m leading her on?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, seemingly deep in thought. 
“I doubt that. I mean you’re planning on marrying her- which I take offense to not knowing about this little pact or whatever,” she adds. “But that’s like the total opposite of leading on.” She tries to reassure wanting to really get Steve to shut up about it.
“No you don’t get it-” Steve starts again, only to be interrupted. 
“Ughhhh!! How can I not get it if this is your sixth time going over it? Steve, I get it! You’re overthinking this when it’s really simple.” Robin gestures. “You love her and you want to get married and blah blah blah, but before you guys get married how about you try to, I don’t know actually date?” She says sarcastically. “Unless you were just going to propose after a thousand years of sleepovers and dating other people.” She adds. 
And although it was unnecessarily sassy, Steve realized that Robin might have a point. “So I should ask her out?” He tries to clarify much to Robin’s dismay. Luckily for her the door opening saved her from another round of easily answered questions. And even more lucky for her it was you and not an actual customer.
“Hey what are you-” Steve was cut off by you taking his hand and dragging him to where you knew the break room was after bringing him lunch on multiple occasions. You had tried and failed to not think about this whole situation. 
The one thing that had been bothering you the most is how long it was taking. You realized it was because you let Steve call the shots, and you quickly remembered why you never let Steve call the shots. Steve took too long to make decisions and well you knew what you wanted. So you had always been the leader in your friendship, deciding what movies you’d watch, what games you’d play, the parties you would go to. Everything really. You could do that here too, you realized. 
When you close the door behind you Steve is looking at you expectantly. He’s half thinking that you’re gonna cuss him out, so he doesn’t expect it when you grab him by his shirt to kiss him. You’re all over him for about five seconds. Your scent. Your taste. Your skin. Your hair. Then you’re gone. Patting his shirt back in place, shakily. You’re nervous. Steve realizes. 
“Okay that was all-” Steve’s pulling you back to him before you can run off. Letting his lips capture yours just the way he’d dreamed of. Feeling you relax into him as he cradles your face.
“So sweet.” He murmurs against your lips. He finds it amusing how the words send you back into your shyness from last night. The way you went from determined to timid and unable to even look at him properly. Steve was curious about this side of you. You were never this easily flustered.
“When did you get so shy?” He asks and you know he’s taunting you. He’s still holding you close to him, his fingers messing with the ends of your hair as he tries to find any reason to keep touching you. 
“M’not.” You oppose half-heartedly. He lets out a gentle sound of acknowledgment, obviously ignoring you, and knowing he would press all those buttons later. Privately. 
“You’re so beautiful.” You think he’s still teasing you and you hate that it's working when you feel your face heat up and you’re hiding it in his chest. Steve really means it though, it was the first thought that came to his head when he saw you walking through the door. Your hair free and your face without makeup. A skirt that your mom would deem a few inches too short and a shirt that he’s seen a million times because you love it so much. 
Gathering your courage, you finally look at him. His kiss swollen lips are the first thing that grabs your attention the second is the way he’s looking at you. Like he’s waiting on you to call the next shot. 
“Will Robin be okay, if we go to your car?” The next few moments are a blur because now he’s the one dragging you out of the breakroom, pausing only long enough for Steve to beg Robin to cover for him. Which she agreed to with a poorly concealed smirk on her face.
You were expecting Steve to open the back door and usher you inside. Instead he opens the driver side and pats his lap expectantly, after moving his seat all the way back. When you hesitate he’s grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to where he wants you. “What if someone sees us?” You ask, knowing how fast information like this whipped around town. 
“Nobody parks on this side, honey.” Steve tells you those big puppy dog eyes staring into you. And because he’s Steve, and he’s calling you honey, and you trust him more than anyone you know, you believe him. 
“Okay.” Is all you say before your lips are back on Steve’s. It was a sweet kiss really, and Steve tried to let you control it for a while, until you were trying to back away from him again. With his experienced lips working over yours, you’re so consumed you barely realize the way you’re grinding yourself over his lap. Well not until his hands are on your ass, pushing your skirt up and controlling your once sloppy movement.
“There you go, sweetheart.” He says breathlessly, when he finally comes up for air. His lips find purchase against your neck. He kisses his way up the slope of it, relishing in the sound of your little gasps, until one particular spot sends a shudder down your spine. He sucks that spot. 
Absent-mindedly, your hands find their way off his shoulders and into his hair, barely thinking about it twice before you rake your nails across his scalp softly. The soft hum he lets out gives you indication that you should continue. Your hands stay in his hair for a bit, and you’re too nervous to actually pull it, but it does get you thinking about the other places on his body he has hair. Namely his happy trail. It sat perfectly right in between his abs and you usually had to avoid looking for your own sake. 
You’re yanking his shirt out of his jeans before you give it much more thought. And even though you’re too busy humping Steve to get a good look, feeling it against your bare hands has you whimpering. 
“Stevie-” You’re cut off by your own moan as your clit catches perfectly against Steve’s zipper. It doesn’t get past Steve that you sound so fucked out. Your tone bordering on a whine, clearly frustrated.
“Look at you.” Steve coos. “Doin’ such a good job for me, sweet girl.” Pressing a light kiss to your lips. Steve couldn’t help watching you chase your own pleasure, shivering at his praise.. Your eyes pinched shut, but your hands are all over him like you know every part of his body. 
“Can you open your eyes for me?” He asks with his hands pushing your hair out your face. When you do, he admires how dazed you look. How you probably barely remember your own name. “There she is.” Steve knew he was about two seconds from coming in his pants. He was also aware of the fact that once you were done with him he’d have to go back inside to finish working his shift.
“Stevie” You start again, “M’so close. Feels so good.” You tell him, your movements becoming frantic causing your boobs to sway deliciously. You don’t register your top being pulled down, until you feel Steve licking at your nipple.
A hungry groan rising from the back of his throat. “Perfect fucking tits.” His hands leave your ass, leaving the pace to you. He pinches your right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to test your reaction. When you lurch into him. Humping him harder than before, he knows he’s a goner. But you are first. Your orgasm hits you so fast, it surprises you with tears springing to your eyes at the intensity. 
Steve’s a close second behind you, leaving the two of you panting and trying to catch your breath. As soon as Steve recovers he’s tending to you, pulling your top back in place, trying to see how you felt. 
He can’t help but admire that after that you went right back to your embarrassed state, obviously self conscious. “You’re perfect.” He tells you again, pressing another light kiss to your lips. When you grin at him, his heart beats fast and he can’t help but be happy at the line the two of you just crossed. 
“You too.” You say, your head is still a bit fuzzy as you check the damage. You’re about to launch into an apology about the obvious wet spot on Steve jeans but he beats you to it. “Stop worrying.” He’d been watching the spot form as time went on and kept willing it to get bigger. Liked that you were making a mess all over him and yourself too. 
“You have to go back to work.” You state, guiltily. 
“I have an extra pair of pants in the backseat, sweetheart. We’re all good.” You’re relieved for a number of reasons, climbing off him into the passenger seat. You don’t know what you were expecting but you realized it wasn’t him yanking his pants off, revealing his now cum stained gray boxers. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to drag the boxers off as well, which revealed his huge fucking dick. The tip is now sloppy and slightly red, and you can tell it isn’t as hard as it was.
“Oh fuck.” You say barely recognizing your own voice. Only to repeat yourself when he uses his sullied boxers to wipe the rest of the cum off, watching it twitch from the stimulation.
“He doesn’t like to be stared at, ya know.” Steve teases you, reaching back for his jeans. 
Your eyes keep flickering back to his face and back to his dick, and you know there’s no way he’s been carrying that around for the entirety of your friendship and you simply had no idea.
“Steve.” You say dumbfounded. No words available to express your shock, as he pulled his pants on to cover himself.
“No more ‘Stevie’?” He asks, mocking you. The smile on his face tells you he’s just messing with you but you can’t help your cheeks going up in flames.
“You’re the worst.” You huff, but you’re still smiling despite your embarrassment. 
“Mhm.” He’s reaching over the console to kiss you again, this time sweet and chaste. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you open for me, before I fuck you, sweetheart.” You gasp feeling his hand on the band of your underwear.
“Lift up for me.” You do, allowing him to pull the drenched fabric off of you, you hide your face in your hands when he lifts it to his face to sniff. You were quickly coming to the realization that your best friend was dirtier than you ever realized, even with all the gossip that got back to you.
You feel yourself manage to flush even further when he murmurs to himself “sweetest fucking girl” he stuffing them in his pocket in the next second, then reaching back over for you when his phone lights up. 
Robin’s name lighting up the screen. He huffs a little as he reads the text and you know she’s getting snappy. 
“Come on, let's go before Robin kills you.”  There’s no use in asking for your underwear back so you just pull your skirt down as far as it will go before stepping out the car, trying to ignore the slickness of your thighs. After Steve walks you to your car, he presses a kiss to your forehead, stating that you’ll talk later. 
When he walks back into Family Video he looks disheveled, a completely new pair of pants, his shirt no longer tucked and wrinkled, but Robin is relieved to know that she won’t have to answer anymore stupid questions from him.So she leaves him be for the moment, but he definitely owes her big time. 
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graphicpolicy · 9 days
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Graphic Policy’s Top Comic Picks this Week!
Graphic Policy’s Top Comic Picks this Week! 7 comics to check out this week! #comics #comicbooks
Wednesdays (and Tuesdays) are new comic book day! Each week hundreds of comics are released, and that can be pretty daunting to go over and choose what to buy. That’s where we come in Each week our contributors choose what they can’t wait to read this week or just sounds interesting. In other words, this is what we’re looking forward to and think you should be taking a look at! Find out what…
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hxltic · 1 year
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imagine bokuto fucking you so good from behind
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you’re laid flat on your stomach, where he has two large hands digging into the small dip of your back. He’d already fucked you out, so now with every dragged curl of his hips, it feels ten times longer. He’d go slow before increasing speed.
Sweat is dripping down your body and wetting your hair. He does that lopsided full grin of his and brushes his own sweat droplets from his forehead, before shifting weight completely to his palms and slamming down almost fully parallel to your body. You were pinned. Your walls tugged against the length of him, massaging his cock in a way no fist can. You were tight but so fucking wet, and with every slap of his forgotten balls you get closer and closer to what,, your 4th orgasm?
“H-ah fuck! Oh m’god Ko-“
The bed rocks with every roll, your chin slowly falls with the weight of your head, and your eyes droop inconsistently. You start to mumble to no one into the covers.
“Mmph, fills s’gud,” you’d whine.
“Just hold out for me alright baby? You’re takin’ it like a fucking champ.”
He adjusts one hand to disperse along the whole portion of your back, allowing him to grab one arm and fold it into his hold. He copied the movements for the other while your hips naturally rise. You, him, and the bed bullied the supporting wall together, causing scratch marks of dark grey to stain it. With the loss of cognizance, you didn’t notice how he wasn’t as horizontal anymore, but was pressed more on his knees. The strength he even has to do that is insane— and honestly, you wish you could admit it—but you were too distracted by the slight upward angle this entailed.
If your eyes weren’t rolled back, they were now. Your jaw hung slack when they first shot wide, portraying on your face the exact feeling of ecstasy that ran through your veins. Bokuto noticed how you became stagnant for just a split second. Idle, even.
You then shivered and shook as you sporadically pushed your hips back in an escape. Of course, this was futile with no arms.
“H-Oh my fucking god Kotarō,” your voice was higher than he’d ever heard it.
He just roughed you up towards him, grabbing you by the fat of your ass connecting to your hips, and slipped himself back in like nothing happened. When you tried to wiggle away, you successfully got him to let one hand loose, but the consequence was that one shoulder was on the bed and the other wasn’t, so now your neck was craning to look at him by the side in doggy.
Thrusting into you in a new position where there was nothing left of his dick to see, you could’ve screamed. There was no buildup or anything, he hit the same spot about twice a second, but you were out of energy. In this moment he sacrificed speed for power. With a mindless, animalistic groan, you pushed against him from inside and came. The mixed-haired man smiled once white started to peek out whenever he thrusted. Your ass stained red along with your tightly held wrist.
So you laid there and took it all instead, half mentally here and half not. He only laughed that boisterous laugh from behind you and forced your hips down. They’d ricochet off, then return with momentum. It was hot and wet, a lewd scene with your mixed sounds and his loud grunts. And you know when Bokuto wants something, he goes all out.
He knew you knew the safe word, and he knew you knew when to use it; therefore, he’d fuck you until you could barely think. You loved it.
He’d taunt, “You tryna run away?”
“Hummph”
“sorry babe, what was that?”
“n’mm.”
“close enough.” he concludes breathlessly.
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