#Becca Wickes

[lightleckrereins]

do you think aryn not having bangs for howard is for standardization? i’d love to see that hairstyle on her!

I think its half standarization half her bangs being in a style that can be pulled back. So far we have five cases of Howards having a front styling that is not just pulled back. And while I think all can be explained with their haircuts, there are other factors into place: hair type, thickness, amount, direction of growth, etc.

Becca Wickes has straight bangs that are cut really wide, so while the front might be long enough to pull back the sides probably don't reach the ponytail. Also I think this was a case of the creative team deciding they liked the bangs look because she wore the ponytail to the front anyway (more about that in a bit).

김려원 (Kim Ryeo-won) has long layered bangs to the sides close to what you would call curtain bangs in western styles. While her bangs would reach the ponytail the layering would make it tricky to lay completely flat and last for an entire show so instead her hair is styled to the sides with some of the shorter strands styled in the middle.

허솔지 (Heo Sol-ji) has a simmilar cut but longer. I think it could be possible for her to get the usual style but maybe to give both distinct styles or maybe to be more in line with SK hair trends she also has her bangs styled to the sides with a few strands hanging in front of her ears.

Lou Henry has very short, thick and curly hair. I think at first the hair team either didnt manage to safely pull it all back or didn't like the look so she wore a base wig with styled bangs in the front as a base for the first few weeks of her run. She started wearing her own hair pulled back since (might be that her hair got long enough for it). The ponytail is set slightly towards the front instead of the back of the head probably to compensate for the lenght of her hair.

Caitlyn De Kuyper has short bangs to the sides, While it seems her bangs can reach the ponytail (also set slightly towards the front) they dont look fully flat. In all her photos with her hair pulled back she uses either pins, clips or elastic bands to keep her bangs in place. The way her hair lies makes me think in her case she has thick hair that refuses to be in any direction but its natural growth. So for howard her bangs are pulled back from the side in two separate parts on each side not the front and probably held in place with pins. This will look pulled back flat from the audience but up close you can see its not.

Now onto Aryn. She does have straight bangs as Becca, but her's are longer, start further back and are not as wide. Also her hair gets longer towards the side and seems to not be as thick as some of the others. All that makes it possible to fully pull back to a ponytail. I think there are probably pins holding it into place on the sides hidden by the horsehair on the crown too. And if you look closely at her photo in costume the very top of her hair is starting to get a little messy (this is post show) saying that her bangs are trying to escape the ponytail and go back to their normal position.

[paradise-bi-the-dashboard-lightt]

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

[sprnklersplashes]

The people's Veronica is back????

[janedances]

at last… the tour poster

[littleeliza-lotte]

Saw SIX again yesterday!

Might be watching a dress rehearsal if it tomorrow…

[centrestagereviews]

Actor of the Week: Rebecca Wickes

Becca is currently performing in We Will Rock You at the London Coliseum Becca trained at Trinity Laban Musical Theatre Course 2018 Graduate Theatre Credits include: Katherine Howard (SIX – UK tour and South Korea), MILLENNIALS (The Other Palace Studio), Veronica Sawyer HEATHERS – UK Tour), Lead Vocalist (DIRTY DANCING IN CONCERT – UK Tour), Katherine Howard (SIX THE MUSICAL – NCL), Scaramouche…

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

It’s the silence before the snap. It fills the car, the waiting, the held breathe, her reaction to come. Clint scratches the back of his head, the other hand on the wheel. Steve in the backseat with Y/N, who is stock still holding her phone in one hand.

She’s staring at the device; a range of things play on her face. Her jaw works, before pushing her lips together, deadly silent.

“She’s making that face, isn’t she?” Gwen winces on the line.

“Oh yeah.” Steve chuckles.

“Y/N, it’s not a big deal. It’s a rumor. Don’t lose your shit.” Gwen pleads.

Slowly her lips pucker together before she shoves her tongue up and between them.

“She said, what now?” Y/N isn’t asking, she’s demanding. It’s tell her the truth or she goes off halfcocked and not sorry. Not that she’s ever really sorry.

Her face and body are finally looking normal again, except for the few scars she was always going to have after the jumping she got. It’s been a few weeks since the Families stripped CK’s father from the table, burned his business down and threw him out of town. After he tried to have Y/N killed or assaulted. Trying to keep her from marrying Bucky and taking over her father’s position at the head of the table.

Ck’s life came to an end at Bucky’s hand. A fucked-up deal made in the heat of the moment. Of seeing his girl in the hospital, the marks that covered her from head to toe. One fight, between Bucky and CK, whoever won, came out still alive, got Y/N.

Bucky went home to his girl, while his father, Steve’s dad, and Y/N’s father and his right-hand Frank disposed of CK’s body. It was a night scarred into their lives, for a lot of them. The night changed everything, for a lot of them. It left behind ripples, one battle started another war, only this time it might not be for his girl, but his baby sister.

“She said, it’s probably a back alley baby.” Gwen mutters in almost a whisper.

“Because you’re a back alley whore?!” Y/N’s voice gets louder.

The rumor came back around like a bad penny. When the girls showed up at Saints, Y/N, Gwen and Wanda caused a stir. They never fell in line or learned to play nice with others. Specifically not Y/N, she went toe to toe with Amora and Kitty.

It went around that Gwen’s husband, Y/N’s older brother, Peter was pimping out his wife. Like a five dollar back alley pro. It brought The Brother’s to Saint’s and in turn, the Saintz and Brothers teaming up. As well as Y/N and his baby sister Becca, beating the hell out of Amora and Kitty.

“Peter said drop it.” Gwen sighs.

“Tell Peter I said bend over and get fucked.” She snaps back. She looks around as Clint turns on to the road of the school. Coming up on the football field. She grabs the handle and yanks, but it stays closed.

“Sorry Sweets, child locks.” Clint chuckles. Bucky grins, shaking his head.

“Pack Man.” She growls at him.

“Nope.” Clint grins in triumph.

Bucky glances back at his fiancé, she’s rolling the window down. He and Steve exchange a look of confusion. When his eyes cut back, Clint’s slamming on the brakes, she’s half out the window.

“Y/N!” Clint yells.

“Get back in here!” Buck scrambles to get over the seat, but she drops out as the Four Runner comes to an abrupt stop. Her phone on the seat.

“Did she just jump out the damn window!?” Her brothers are yelling on the other line.

“Fucking Chaos.” Steve’s laughing.

She’s already off the road, up the sidewalk and climbing the fence of the field. Bucky double takes when he watches the jet black ponytail bouncing after his girl.

“Did Becca,” he looks around.

“Fucking trouble I tell you.” Howie sighs.

The two drop over the fence in sync.

“Don’t just watch you idiots!” Gwen yells.

Clint throws it in park, Steve’s rolling his window down to open his own door, Buck hurries out.

Peter is out at a slower pace and more than likely on his wife’s orders.

It’s the other one running up on them that he’s glad to see. TC is hopping the fence, in pursuit of the woman he works for.

“Whose idea was it to tell her while we were driving?” TC asks.

“Did you really think she was going to jump out of the fucking car?” Clint asks.

“It’s Chaos.” TC snorts.

“Pain in the ass.” Buck sighs.

“Say it again!”

“She’s terrorizing the cheerleaders.” Steve smirks.

“Really?” Bucky sighs looking over.

“She had it coming.” Peter shrugs.

“School hasn’t started, and she’s beating someone up.” TC points out.

“I thought we had a rule no fighting at school?” Clint huffs.

The rest of them look over at him as if he might be the stupidest one of them all.

“I heard it as I said it.” He grumbles.

TC runs ahead, ready to grab Y/N.

She’s got Sophia, face down in the dirt of the field. Hand in her hair, Becca intimidating the other girls to stay away.

“I said say it again, bitch!” Y/N demands loudly. Sophia’s feet kick, hands clawing at the grass, as his girl shoves her face into the dirt by the grip on her now ruined ponytail.

“Okay, Chaos.” TC grabs her around the waist, hoisting her up and off the girl. “Let go.” He warns her.

“You psycho!” Sophia cries rolling over. It’s Becca who gives her a swift kick in the side.

“Nobody asked for your fucking lip bitch.” Becca sneers. Bucky grabs her arm, pulling her away from the girl.

“If we need it, someone will jiggle their zipper, cunt.” Y/N smirks still trapped in TC’s hold.

“It’s not even nine in the morning, Sugar.” Steve chuckles.

“Who needs coffee to wake up, making mouthy bitches cry is better for the soul, Big Man.” She shrugs, looking smug.

“Weird didn’t you tell Sina in front of half the school you start your mornings differently?” Clint chuckles.

“Thanks for the reminder.” Peter groans. Bucky chuckles softly more to himself.

Y/N is set on her feet a smug smile on her lips as she shrugs.

“Don’t even.” He warns her.

Deep brown eyes turn up at him, he knew her like the back of his hand. She huffs at him, rolling her eyes.

“Back to the car.” Peter orders.

Her head tips and she squints slightly, licking her lips. Foot swinging fast, she cracks Sophia in the knee, as she sits up. She lets out a scream, falling over holding her knee.

Peter’s head drops back. Clint’s head hangs. TC scraps his hands down his face. Steve let’s out a hell of a sigh. Becca looks smug as fuck. Bucky glares at her.

“Did you fuckers learn?” She asks, starting to walk away. She turns back, stepping backwards. “Fuck you and your orders.” A grin on her lips.

“And she wonders why there’s a war, for her.” Peter sighs.

“She doesn’t wonder. She knows.” Becca laughs, skipping after her partner in crime.

“Anyone else scared?” Clint whispers as they follow the two.

“Till we know for sure, scared is a good thing to be.” Bucky admits.

“You mean if they’re coming for either of my sisters?” Peter wonders.

“Yeah, Pete.” He nods.

“Do you think, it’s what a distraction?” Steve glances around.

“Could be. Eddie’s threat to claim Y/N, he never made a move. But we were tangled up in Brock and CK. We don’t know what he’s up too. He was making moves while we weren’t looking.” Peter explains.

“Coming for Becca, it’s Y/N. Look at all she’s done already. And that was someone coming for her. Someone comes for her sister; do we remember what happened when she gave herself up for Gwen?” Peter cuts his eyes between all of them. They each swallow hard and wince.

“It’s another war, boys. We better be ready.” Bucky nods.

Y/N and Becca hop the fence, looking back. She winks at him, before climbing back into Clint’s ride. With a few months till Graduation, hell was only going to keep raining down on them.

-----

Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @irepeldirt @joannie95 @nunu2888 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @destiel-artemis @hookslove1592 @CallSign-Vesta @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @wonderswrittings @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

[snailsnfriends]

friendship among girls

west wind (mary oliver) / a good love (charlotte ager) / twin stars (clairel estevez) / sex education (laurie nunn) / derry girls (lisa mcgee) / water serpents (gustav kilmt) / ribs (lorde) / anne of green gables (lucy maud montgomery) / the friends (max ginsberg) / in the company of women (january gill o'neil) / graceland too (phoebe bridgers) / wicked (winnie holzman) / fleabag (phoebe waller-bridge) / silhouette (janice lobo sapigao) / x / juno (jason reitman) / black iris (leah raeder) / jennifer's body (karyn kusama) / the art of loving and losing female friends (rachel vorona cote) / clothes swap/brooklyn 2008 (hope gangloff) / mabel (becca de la rosa & maybell marten) / twin stars (clairel estevez) / friends (colin bootman) / my little pony: friendship is magic (lauren faust)

[crissiebaby]

Sissy's First Date: Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This POV story contains diaper usage, forced crossdressing, public humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. This story is a continuation of one of my first short stories, Sissy’s First Slumber Party (Link to DeviantArt), and while you don’t need to read that to understand this, it’s definitely worth checking out. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: Anon

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12:55 PM. Perfect. My plan to arrive five minutes early had gone off without a hitch. And as far as I could tell, my date was nowhere in sight yet. Hehe…my date. Just thinking about the fact I was going to be going on my first date with my new girlfriend had me giddier than I’d ever been in my life. I hadn’t had much luck with women up to this point, so to land a bombshell like Becca was a dream come true. Though, I have to admit, as far as dream dates went, the floofy purple party dress with white lace trim and the pair of double-thick diapers weren’t something I had initially envisioned for myself.

It all started a few weeks ago when my twin sister, Abby, decided to host a slumber party for herself and all of her besties. Since we shared an apartment at college, I shamefully decided to stage a small viewing party for myself and set up cameras all over the house so I could catch every second of action from the comfort of my bedroom. Sadly, the only thing caught that night was me. Needless to say, the girls were far from happy with me, and I honestly can’t blame them. However, the last thing I expected was for them to turn me into their own, personal baby doll as punishment, dressing me up in the most humiliating get-up of my entire life and forcing me to do many blushy things.

And the strangest part was…I liked it. At first, I didn’t want to. In fact, I resisted my sister and her wicked friends at every turn. It wasn’t until my sister’s best friend and my deepest crush, Becca, stepped in to make the night of torturous embarrassment all worth it. Turns out, she had a thing for shortie sissy babies, and she was more than happy to prove that as we enjoyed a night of padded pleasure together. It was like having my eyes opened to a completely new and exciting world that I didn’t even know existed. At the end of the night, she bestowed me with the sissy name, Cherry, and declared that I would be her sissy cherry-boy forever, something I wasn’t about to complain about.

That being said, just because I was starting to embrace the sissy baby lifestyle that had been thrust upon me didn’t mean I was exactly keen to be seen in public in such an outfit, or anyone else besides Becca for that matter. I’d even gone as far as to sneak out of the apartment with my girly clothes tucked away in a bag so that Abby didn’t know. I was far from ready to tell her what her devious punishment had awoken in me.

Thankfully, it was a bright, sunny day outside, so Becca had paired a matching purple parasol to go with my dress; a parasol that gave me the chance to hide my face from passersby whenever the anxiety of being in public got to me. Becca really did think of everything. Eeeeeee! Just thinking about her again had me prancing in place. I quickly restrained myself, hoping to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

“That was a cute, little dance you were doing, Cherry. Was that for me?” said a voice that sounded all too familiar. Unsurprisingly, my face turned bright red as Becca leaned forward and lifted my parasol before sticking her face under and smiling at me in such a way that my big, dumb heart instantly melted. She looked so beautiful in her floral sundress, topped with a sun hat to match and bright red lipstick that made her kissably plush lips stand out. She also had a large diaper bag noticeably tucked under one of her arms with the strap over her shoulder. Almost immediately, I felt the blood in my body center around my crotch, filling my body with stimulating sensations. If it weren’t for the double diapers shielding my shame, my hard-on would’ve been on full display. “You…you look…wow,” I said, unable to blink or turn my eyes away from Becca’s beauty. I was so horny and flustered and head over heels to have someone willing to dress up for me like this. I had no idea what else to say.

Becca, on the other hand, was more than happy to steer the conversation. “Hehe! Thank you, Cherry, though I must say you’re giving me some stiff competition,” she said, making me feel like a doll as she looked me up and down seductively, “You must be so excited. This is your first date ever, yeah? Don’t worry, I promise to show you the absolute bestest time. Let’s head in, my lovely, little lolita.”

Becca punctuated her sentence by pinching my cheek lightly before looping her arms around mine and ushering me toward the entrance to the county fair, which was two towns over from where we went to college. That fact unfortunately did not prevent my heart from fluttering with every step. Normally, a local fair like this was the last place I’d want to be. They were hot, full of screaming kids, and almost always smelled like manure. But today, with a parasol and dress to keep me cool and Becca at my side, I didn’t care if she wanted to take me to the surface of the sun. I’d buy some SPF 1,000,000 and rocket my ass into space in a heartbeat for her.

Unfortunately, while the dress was certainly breezy, the diapers were another story. I’d only been standing outside for ten minutes or so and I could feel my undercarriage starting to broil. Mercifully, the line for tickets to the fair was super short and we were inside in a matter of minutes. Wiping the sweat off my brow with my free hand, I spotted a drink stand near the entrance that was calling my name. Some ice-cold water would keep my internal temperature in check, as well as help with the heat that double diapers brought with them. “Hey, do you mind if I grab a water real quick?” I asked, gesturing toward the stand.

“Oh, we don’t need to waste money on overpriced waters. I packed you some juice for just such an…occasion,” said Becca, her words petering off as she clocked the dejected look on my face, along with the beads of sweat that accompanied it. The amount of pity contained within her stare made me feel weak in the knees. I wanted to tell her that I’d be okay but before I got the chance, she tugged me toward the drink stand, her nervous expression shifting to an opportunistic one, “Hello, sir. Two large waters, please.”

“Certainly!” said the man working the drink stand as he opened the refrigerator behind him and snatched two giant water bottles from the rack. Oh, how I wanted to dive across the counter and shove myself in that fridge. Of course, I would never do such a thing but the thought was there all the way up until the man was passing the twin bottles off to Becca in exchange for her credit card. It was embarrassing to let her pay for me like this but I was instructed before the date began not to even dream of bringing my wallet. Luckily, the transaction was painlessly over seconds after it started, “You ladies have yourselves a nice day.”

Nodding to the man without hesitation, Becca responded, “Same to you,” allowing him to continue believing I was, indeed, one of the “ladies.” Heck, with the way I was dressed, I might as well be. Other than the hint of masculinity in my facial features and my deep voice, I doubt anyone would be able to tell I was a guy so long as I stuck to Becca and kept my mouth shut.

As Becca and I departed from the drink stand, I reached over for one of the water bottles, only for Becca to pull away at the last second before I could wrap my fingers around the cap and bottleneck. “Ah, ah, ah! You’ll get this soon enough. Follow me, Cherry,” she said seductively, causing me to swoon as she lured me toward the nearest set of restrooms. To my surprise and slight horror, she beelined directly to the women’s side.

“W-Wait, are you sure it’s okay for me to go…in there?” I asked anxiously, planting both feet on the cement ground as I stopped in the middle of the bathroom doorway. I may have just contemplated how well my girlish appearance passed but that didn’t mean I was ready to put my new look to the ultimate test yet, “What if, you know, someone sees me?”

Snickering as she playfully rolled her eyes, Becca clearly didn’t share my concerns. “Cherry, you look like a cupcake topper and you’re as sweet as one too. And if anyone says otherwise, I’ll bop ‘em in the nose,” she said, shadowboxing a couple of times and forcing several giggles out of me both from her silly behavior and her gushy compliments.

Part of me was still on edge as I let Becca lead me into the girl’s room. I kept my eyes trained on the black and white tile floor, too afraid of what might happen if I looked anyone in the eye. Fortunately, there were several empty stalls open, allowing Becca to pull us into one of the larger ones with a baby changing area near the back of the bathroom. “You’re not gonna make me lay down on that thing, right?” I whispered, keeping my voice low to avoid detection as I pointed to the plastic, fold-down changing table.

“Huh? Oh, pfffft! Nah, as fun as that would be, I think my little sissy is just a little too big for that. Don’t worry, though, I have something much more fun planned,” said Becca, approaching me and, without warning, lifting the skirt of my dress high. I instinctually moved to stuff it back down, only for her to swat my hands away effortlessly, “Now, now, don’t be fussy. Unless you want me to raw up your bottom right here and now.” Her stern voice and vague threat of punishment were enough to awaken my little buddy again, which was desperately wiggling around in my diapers for more space to grow. 

Closing my eyes, I was too mortified to watch as she ogled my diaper. It didn’t matter that she knew I was wearing it or that she’d even been the one to pick them out for me. It was still me standing before an unbelievably attractive woman in a diaper, something I don’t think I’d ever be used to. Moreover, I braced myself for the impact I was certain was coming.

*Crinkle!*

“Eeeep!” I squeaked involuntarily as her palm pressed the exact spot where my stiffy was. I felt light-headed as she reached up and pulled the front of my diaper open. What on Earth was she doing? She wasn’t about to pleasure me in a public bathroom. After spending a night with her at my sister’s slumber party, I wasn’t sure exactly which cards were off the table with Becca. However, the next thing I felt wasn’t a warm hand wrapping itself around my cock. She had something much frostier in mind for my diaper.

*SPLASH!*

“GASP!”

All air evacuated my lungs as Becca quickly uncapped the recently purchased water and proceeded to pour its contents into my thirsty diaper. “Nothing feels better on a hot day than an ice-cold diaper. Trust me,” she said, continuing to load my diaper with the brisk beverage until the entire bottle was emptied. By the time she yanked the bottle from my diaper, the water had overtaken both the front and back of my innermost diaper, widening my stance ever so slightly.

“There you go, all nice and wet,” said Becca, lowering the skirt of my dress and leaning forward to present me with a kiss on the cheek. I raised my hand to meet the lipstick stain she left behind, practically feeling the love in her heart radiating off of it. I wasn’t sure this day could get any better. That was until she passed the second water bottle to me before lifting her dress and showing off her own pair of pristine padding, “My turn, Cherry-baby. And you better not spill a single drop.”

I gulped hard as my eyes absorbed every inch of her lude, partially nude body. I was very wrong. This day was just going to do nothing but get infinitely better and Becca was going to make sure of it.

TO BE CONTINUED…

« BACK TO SISSY'S FIRST SLUMBER PARTY (Link to DeviantArt) l NEXT »

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SubscribeStar: subscribestar.adult/crissiebaby pixivFANBOX: crissiebaby.fanbox.cc All CB Links: linktr.ee/crissiebaby

Edited by AllySmolShork

Special Thanks to Our CrissBaby Diaper Company Investors: BeelzeDerBock BlossomBitchDolly BlushyBen Exminister Gun1242 LittlePissy PrincessKittenLizzi Strawberry Sweetsamantharebecca & One Anonymous Investor

[erikahenningsen]

SPF but from the Rejanis teacher AU?

Kylie pauses at the top of the stairs. “Can I get my cartilage pierced when I go to the mall on Saturday?”

“Uh, no?” Regina says, bewildered. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Because Becca and Emma have theirs pierced,” Kylie whines, naming two of her cheerleading teammates.

“Becca and Emma are three years older than you,” Regina points out. “Besides, you’re not getting anything pierced at a fucking Claire’s.”

Kylie smirks. “Swear jar.”

“How about I put that money towards your college education instead?” As if they’d ever had a swear jar; there is no jar in the world big enough.

Kylie’s smile turns to a wicked grin. “Fuck off.”

“Hey!” Regina snaps. “I’m gonna push you down the stairs if I hear that again.”

Kylie looks at her dubiously and goes down a few steps to the landing. “My health teacher says we’re supposed to report it to a trusted adult if our parents ever hurt us.”

“I’ll push your health teacher down the stairs, too.”

Kylie snorts. “Is it not enough to threaten my art teacher?”

Regina’s mouth falls open. “I did not threaten your art teacher.”

“You threatened her art teacher?” Shane asks from somewhere below them.

“No, I did not,” Regina says. She gives Kylie a warning look as she follows her down the stairs. “I had a conversation with Kylie’s art teacher because she gave her a failing grade.”

“You failed art?” Shane says, incredulous. He’s standing by the front door, Kylie’s duffel bag over his shoulder.

“Mom,” Kylie hisses. “Did you have to tell him that?”

Regina ignores her. “She got an F in the first quarter.”

Shane looks at Kylie. “Dude, how?”

“Can we stop talking about this?” Kylie jams her feet into her shoes.

“We can stop talking about it when you’re not failing art,” Regina tells her, then turns to Shane. “Doctor’s appointment Thursday.”

“I got it, I got it,” Shane says, waving his hand. “We’re out.”

“And make sure she does her homework—that’s a full half-hour of reading every night,” Regina says as Shane pushes open the door. “And for god’s sake, please eat some form of fresh produce.”

[blindmagdalena]

Eat Your Ego, Honey ( Ch 6 )

homelander x oc 18+  escort services, sex work, voyeurism, stalking, Homelander in general. see ao3 link for detailed tags. chapter index. check out the playlist!

chapter summary: Homelander spends the morning after their first date musing on what a life with Layla will look like. Unfortunately for both of them, he's quick to voice his fantasy, which clashes hard with her grounded sense of reality.

additional chapter tags: somnophilia, cunnilingus, attempted sexual coercion, accidental injury, gaslighting, physical restraint.

With Layla fast asleep in his arms, Homelander is left to his own devices for the rest of the night. He could sleep, he supposes, but he doesn’t need to. He can go days without. Currently, he finds he simply doesn’t have the desire to be unconscious right now. He wants to savor every moment of this.

She’s here. In his home. In his arms. He inhales deeply, floods his senses with their mingled scents. The lingering warm vanilla of her perfume, the woodsy spice of his cologne, and the heady smell of sex. Amidst it all, he also picks up the distinctive rubbery smell of latex: the condom. Before last night, he can’t recall the last time he used one. He only had the box because it had been packaged with the lube.

He never cared to use them. Didn’t think he needed to until…

Homelander drifts in and out of his thoughts, stubbornly pulling back every time he feels a bristle of anger or grief. In one fell swoop he lost his girlfriend, the mother of his child, and his son. Stormfront may have survived Ryan’s rage, but he knows now that she was gone from him from that moment onward. She only cared about her agenda, not him. Left him alone for his fucking birthday.

Fake or not, what kind of girlfriend kills herself right before your birthday?

By far, the worst part of it all was Ryan. In targeting Becca, Stormfront had alienated he and Ryan from each other, pushed him into the hands of William fucking Butcher. Now he had no idea where his own son was, or if the kid even wanted anything to do with him. 

He never should have let Stormfront interfere. Homelander could have made things work. He was making things work, regardless of Becca’s misgivings, because Ryan needed his mother.

He still needs a mother.

Homelander refocuses on Layla’s sleeping face. She’s even sweeter asleep than she is awake, features soft, unguarded. She’s relentlessly patient, something that had initially frustrated him. He hadn’t been able to rattle her disposition at all during their first session, though he had certainly tried. She’s kind, she cooks, she even sings. Sure, she drinks a little excessively, and her “profession” is a can of worms to deal with all on its own, but overall…

He can’t help but smile faintly, stroking her cheek the same way he had that very first night he visited her in her home.

With a couple of minor adjustments, she would make a hell of a mother.

It’s a nicer thought to fixate on than any of the others. It carries him through the next several hours, taking him away from the sorrow of heartsickness and the losses he has unfairly endured again and again and again. Instead, he imagines what a home shared between the three of them would look like. A large kitchen, naturally, one that would blow her little condo’s setup out of the water. An oversized bath for the two of them to lounge in. She would have everything she could possibly need at her fingertips.

Ryan would have his own room. Big, with bright windows and posters on every wall. Baseball, dad’s movies, shelves for his trophies. Trophies that he earned himself, not just cheap little statues to create the illusion of a childhood. He would have everything that Homelander should have had.

Eventually, Layla stirs. He loosens his hold to let her adjust, watching as she rolls onto her back, the blanket sliding down with her movements. His gaze drifts down, and he’s possessed by a wicked little thrill at not only the sight of her bare breasts, but the bruises that mottle her flesh. He marked her thoroughly with his lips and his teeth last night, a myriad of them blossoming from her chest all the way up to her neck.

“Oops,” he whispers, playful and without remorse. That changes, however, when she adjusts her legs and visibly winces in her sleep before settling back down. Watching her for a moment longer, he follows the trail of bruises back down, adjusts his vision to look through the blanket covering her. Her hips are darkly marked as well, veins erupted beneath the skin in the shape of his hands. Her thighs, too. He can only imagine the state of her hips and pelvis, her cervix. He had been rough with her by human standards, but she had wanted it. Fuck, had she ever wanted it.

He should still apologize, and he knows exactly how he wants to do just that. He dips down to press a kiss to one of the marks atop her right breast, and then another between them. He kisses her nipple, savors the feel of her goosebumps beneath his tongue as he drags his tongue over it. Though she shivers under his touch, she doesn’t wake. He grows bolder, sucking her nipple into his mouth, eyes falling shut.

This feels like thievery, like snatching the proverbial forbidden fruit straight from the tree. It thrills him as much as it unnerves him to take from her without permission. Throughout his life, indulgence has been the most heinous cardinal sin. Deprivation has always been his virtue. He was never given enough of anything, lest he become a gluttonous beast with no carrot to chase, and no stick strong enough to beat him.

Denying him didn’t weaken his appetite. Instead, it turned his hunger boundless. He’s never had enough. He doesn't know if he ever will, or if it’s even possible. After a lifetime of unending yearning, he wouldn’t know what satiation would feel like even if he had it.

He keeps himself weightless to prevent the bed from dipping too much with his movements, lightly hovering as he slips down beneath the blanket, kissing his way down her sternum.

Her legs are splayed well enough for him to gently shoulder between them, arms slipping under her thighs, hands grazing lightly over the bruises shaped just like them. She smells divine, like seasalt vanilla ice cream, the smell of sweat and sex and her favorite moisturizer lingering on her skin, which is soft in his hands. She cares for her body the way a craftsman does their tools, keeping them polished and pristine.

It drives him wild to see her undone, blemished, ravished. It’s proof that she has given him something rare, that her rules don’t apply to him anymore. These marks belong solely to him, even if she doesn’t. 

Yet.

Settling his weight between her legs, he uses two fingers to spread the lips of her pussy apart, closing his eyes as he leans in, dragging his tongue from cunt to clit. There aren’t words for how she tastes because there isn’t anything else like it. Good pussy is a meal in a league all its own, and hers is some of the finest he’s ever indulged on. 

He gives a rumbling sigh against her, moving his tongue in leisurely figure-eights. He could—would—do this for hours if she could withstand it. He closes his lips on her clit and sucks gently, rubbing at it with the tip of his tongue. The pattern of her breaths change, her heart jumps, but she isn’t awake yet. She makes an exquisite noise in her sleep that goes straight to his cock, which has begun to harden against his soft bedding. He makes a matching sound low in the back of his throat, nuzzling into her cunt while he grinds his growing hard-on down against the bed.

Layla’s legs move, closing in on either side of him. He can hear her waking up, feel it in her pulse. A noise of confusion first, disoriented, followed shortly by the sweetest of breathy moans.

“Oh, darling,” she breathes, tangling her fingers gently in his hair. Her grip is weak with sleep, nails scraping deliciously along his scalp. It sends shivers trilling up and down his spine like a xylophone. He relishes just how pleased she sounds with him, how she pets his hair while her clit flutters against his tongue.

Last night's frenzied urgency is absent here. The drags of his tongue are languid, the slight roll of her hips loose and without much rhythm. It’s slow, intimate. He loses himself in it enough that her orgasm sneaks up on him, the smell and taste of oxytocin hitting him in a rush.

Homelander moans against her, plunging his tongue into her to feel the quiver of her velvety walls. He hurriedly shoves his hand down between himself and the mattress, lifting his hips just enough to jerk his cock. It’s a treat to come like this, with her hands in his hair and his mouth on her pussy. He sucks at her clit, milks her of her aftershocks while he pumps himself to release, luxuriating in the sharp little gasps she’s giving, how her fingers tighten in his hair.

He comes with a low groan, the sheets below him soaking up the brunt of the mess. She tugs his hair, and he obligingly crawls up her body, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

She looks radiant beneath him, dazed with both sleep and pleasure, her eyes soft, lips set in a gentle curve. It feeds something carnal in him to have done this to her, that she would look at him like this–with love–because of what he has done for her. She has no idea that this is just the beginning. Will she ever be able to fathom the lengths he’ll go for her if she’ll just give him what he needs?

“Good morning,” he purrs, his own voice a low, pleasure-soaked rumble.

“Very good morning,” she says through a giggle, cupping either side of his face. She kisses him lazily, meeting his tongue with her own, licking the flavor of herself from his mouth. He sinks his weight down atop her, slipping his arms underneath her, happy to kiss her until she breaks to breathe. “Insatiable,” she accuses, carding her fingers through his hair.

He beams down at her, gently bumping his nose against hers. He kisses her again simply because he can. Because he’s allowed to. “You would be too if you were me.”

Layla laughs softly. The sound of it warms him to his core. He watches her blink the remaining sleep from her eyes, smearing what’s left of her makeup as she rubs her face, stifling a waking yawn into her hand. He tucks her hair behind her ear, endeared by the way she leans into his endeared by the way she leans into his palm. He's so enraptured by the eager way she touches him, he forgot how good it can be when someone seeks his touch.

People flinch from him far more often.

They kiss again and again and again. It feels like an exploration, each of them mapping out the feel and pattern of the other. She tilts her head one way, and he goes the other, following her in this dance that he would prefer never ended. As always, she’s the first to break for reprieve. He allows it, nuzzling into the crook of her neck instead. He follows the line of her neck all the way up to her ear with his lips and gentle, grazing teeth. He barely resists the urge to bite. Intimacy is the only vice he’s ever struggled to not grip in his teeth and swallow whole. 

“How did you sleep?” She asks, running her fingers through her hair, down his neck, his back. He sighs his pleasure.

“Great,” he lies smoothly. No sense in getting into the nitty-gritty of things. He did have a great night.

“Good,” she says, stretching her arms out across his back until they each give a satisfying little pop. He shifts, lifting himself onto one arm so that he can once again admire not just her, but his handiwork. He brushes his fingers over the bruises that are smattered across her chest.

“You hurt?” He asks quietly. He wants to be proud of them, he wants to love them unconditionally, but first he needs to know they haven’t cost him something in her eyes.

“Mm-mm, mostly just sore,” she says, twisting and curling his short hair between her fingers. “Very bruised, inside and out,” she says, to which he has the decency to look sheepish. “Do you have ibuprofen?”

“Uhh.” He racked his brain, trying to think of where he might have something as utterly mundane and useless to him as painkillers, but he came up empty. “Nnnnope. It’s, ah… Never come up,” he says, to which Layla chuckles.

“No, of course it wouldn’t. it’s alright, I think I have some in my… purse,” she says, pausing as she looks around. Her clothes are scattered from one end of the room to the other, but her purse is– “Shit, I left it on the balcony.”

“I’ll have it brought up,” he says, leaning down to give her a quick peck on the lips before he lifts up, a slight pep in his step as he makes his way over to his phone: a landline. He’s always had trouble keeping track of a cell phone. “Could I have some water, too?” She calls out after him. “Roger!” He affirms cheerily. He whistles softly, making a pit stop by his fridge on the way to his phone. It’s lucky she only asked for water, as it’s the only thing his fridge is stocked with. He snatches one of the bottles neatly lined up inside, and tosses it absently while he calls to have her things retrieved. Once that’s settled, he makes his way back to his bedroom. She’s sitting up now, his dark comforter draped loosely over her lap. She’s fixing her makeup in the mirror to her right, swiping her fingers beneath her eyes. He watches her lick the pads of her ring fingers to wipe away the dark smudges at the corners, endeared. It’s such a simple, domestic little moment. 

She stops when she notices him staring, and smiles at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, shrugging slightly. His tone is soft. “Admiring the view.”

“You’re sweet,” she says, running her fingers through her dark hair to tame it. “Corny, but sweet.” “Always gatta humble me, huh?” He says as he advances, offering her the water bottle. She takes it, eagerly twisting off the cap to take a sip. He slides back in next to her, watching the way her throat works as she swallows. Everything she does is captivating in a way he never would have cared to notice before. Things he would normally find annoying she somehow makes delightful.

“If humbling is what you need, I will gladly provide it,” she says, her smile turning sly. 

Of that, he has no doubt. “What I need-” he begins, leaning in close. “-is more kisses.”

“Mmmm. Lucky for you, I’ve got a fresh batch,” she says, kissing him once, twice, thrice in quick little pecks.

“Christ, woman, don’t waste them,” he growls playfully, taking hold of her face and catching her in one slow, firm kiss.

She laughs against his lips. It’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever felt.

They luxuriate with one another a while longer. Homelander makes a call to the kitchens when Layla inquires about food, but he still isn’t ready to let her out of his bed. Everything is too perfect, too good to let go of. He has the decency to wrap a sheet around his waist when he grabs their breakfast–and her belongings–from the door, but he’s quick to abandon it to climb right back in with her, serving her meal on a silver platter.

“We’re going to have to get up eventually,” she says, taking a bite of the toast. He knows that. They will. He intends to invite her to his birthday celebration tonight, after all. It’ll be better if he doesn’t show up alone. The world is nowhere near forgetting about his most recent failed romantic endeavor.

He resists the urge to lick away the bit of jam that catches on her bottom lip, to interrupt her from her meal, to selfishly claim her every second for himself, to kiss her until she forgets all about that stupid piece of toast, and cares only to satiate her hunger on the taste of him. “...Hello?”

Homelander blinks, realizing he had gone radio silent staring at her mouth. He meets her gaze, and smiles. “What?”

Layla quirks a brow. “We’re going to have to get up eventually,” she repeats, taking another bite of her meal. “You sure you’re not hungry?”

“I ate,” he says, his grin sharpening wolfishly.

“Very funny,” she says wryly, though she can’t hide genuine amusement. She looks good like this. Domestic, even. He really could keep her this way, pampered and cared for. He can offer her more than money, more than mind-melting sex. He has real power in this world. He has so much more to offer her than anyone else could ever hope to. He could give her a real life. A family.

“I have a son,” he says, gauging her response carefully.

She shoots him a look of surprise, lowering the mostly-eaten toast to her plate. “You do?”

“Yeah. He’s, uh… We’re living apart right now,” he says, the words falling awkwardly from his tongue. “Things are complicated.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says gently. Normally, he finds those kinds of condolences sound empty. Rehearsed. Layla always sounds genuine to his ears, the furrow of her brow carrying sincere concern. He wants to lean into it, coax more of that earnest care from her. “Is he with his mother?”

“No, no, she’s gone,” he says dismissively. “That’s a whole mess. I haven’t really had the chance to, uh, to talk to him about that.”

There’s a dash of befuddlement seeping into Layla’s sympathetic expression. “Was… Who was his mother, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No one,” he says, tone sharper than he meant to let it be. Things would be so different if she’d just let him raise his own son. “I mean, not… Not anyone you’d know, not anyone significant.”

“She is significant, though,” she corrects him, lips curving into a slight frown. He doesn’t like the turn this is taking: this was supposed to be a pleasant revelation. “She’s your son’s mother.”

“Yeah, yes, sure, she was. She’s dead now,” he says, trying to move on from that. “But what I meant was that she wasn’t, you know, in the news or anything,” he says, skating around any potential inferences she might make, lest she assume he’s referring to Stormfront or any other woman he’s publicly associated with.

Her frown deepens. He wants to choke back everything he’s just said and start over. He wants to go back to her sweet, pacifying sympathy. Not this uncomfortable, critical look she’s evaluating him with. It makes his skin crawl.

“Right,” she says. He hates that tone, the one that tells him he’s anything but right. It tells him she has much more to say than that, and that he wouldn’t like any of it. He bounces his fist on his thigh, agitation creeping up. This isn’t how this conversation was supposed to go. “You haven’t talked to your son about it? Was it recent?”

“Pretty recent,” he says, irritated now. “But that’s really not… that’s not the point. I have a son,” he says again, splaying his hands expectantly, as if he can restart the conversation with that. This is her chance to give a more enthused response.

She doesn’t. “Why haven’t you talked to him?”

“Jesus Christ, I just told you that it’s complicated,” he snaps, though he regrets the slip instantly. Her expression smooths out, cooling to detached nonchalance. Panic begins to set in alongside his frustration. “Don’t–don’t look at me like that,” he spits, exhaling roughly. He pushes his hands through his hair, and tries desperately to recalibrate, holding his hands out to her. “You were supposed to be excited.”

“Excited,” she repeats, tone even. He can’t stand how apathetic she’s turned.

“Yes, excited. I want you to meet my son,” he says, trying once more to extend this olive branch to her.

That gets a response. Her cool indifference falters, brows furrowing. “I don’t think that’s appropriate,” she says, some of that gentleness sinking back into her voice, but he doesn’t care for the sound of it this time around. Or maybe it’s less her tone, and more the words. He’s not sure yet.

“What do you mean appropriate?” He asks, features pulling into a tight, unhappy pinch.

“You–” she begins, pausing to let out a breath. She closes her eyes briefly, and then takes his hands into her own, pulling them down into her lap, bringing their faces closer to one another, leveling him with direct eye contact. “You need to talk to your son. That much is clear,” she says, squeezing his hands. He squeezes hers back.

“That has to happen first. As for me, I’m…” She hesitates, licking her lips. “Your son is grieving. I’m the last thing he needs right now. What he needs is you.I don’t know what complicated entails, but your priority cannot be introducing a strange woman to your child right now.”

“You’re not a strange woman,” he says with  a defensive edge to his tone. “You’re my–we’re–”

“We’re not anything right now,” she interrupts softly. “We’re barely a notion. One date doesn’t mean–”

“No, no. Stop it,” he demands, voice dropping low. He tightens his grip on her hands. “Don’t blow me off. You like me. There’s something here.”

“Yes, but–” She tries to twist her hands out of his grasp. “Let go of my hands, please.”

“No.” “You’re hurting me, John–” “Don’t! Do not fucking ’John’ me.”

“Why? Why not?!” She snaps, louder than he had been. It startles him enough that his grip on her hands eases. He blinks several times. He’s never heard her shout. Almost didn’t think she was capable of it. “You gave me that name! So why not?!”

“Because it’s not a fucking name!” He yells back, escalating right along with her. “It’s nothing! It means nothing! It’s-it’s a fucking–a goddamn placeholder. It was just more convenient than a string of numbers, alright? I don’t want to hear it right now.”

Her heart is thundering in his ears. Her bones feel brittle in his firm grasp. He could snap them without a thought. He immediately loosens his hold. Her expression is fractured by anger, fear, and perhaps worst of all, pity. It’s cloying, a far cry from her usual benevolent sympathy. He wants nothing to do with it. 

“I don’t want to fight with you,” she says, tone level, but not indulgent. He badly misses that quality.

“Then don’t,” he says ardently. “Can’t you just stop thinking about everything so much?”

Layla’s eyes fall shut. She takes in a slow, calming breath, holding it a beat before she exhales. It gives him hope that they’ll recover from this. She tentatively pulls her hands away, and this time, he lets her. However, he feels a bubble of anxiety in his gut when she slips out of bed, and begins picking up her clothes. “What are you doing?” He asks apprehensively, standing.

She pulls her dress on, smoothing her hands down the front of it. “You’re right. I do like you,” she says, stuffing her undergarments into her purse. “But I can’t talk to you right now. Not here.”

He scoffs nervously. “You’re leaving?”

“I need some time to process,” she says, confirming his fear. 

His anxiety spikes. Everything was perfect. How did this happen? “Don’t be fucking childish,” he says, advancing on her. “Talk to me.”

“I’m upset,” she says plainly. “I don’t feel comfortable here right now. I want to go home. We can talk once we’ve both calmed down.”

“I am calm,” he shoots back, frustrated. “You’re the one making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Okay,” she says, but she doesn’t stop gathering her things. He watches her sit and slip her shoes on. 

“Is that really all you’re gonna to say?”

“Yes.”

That single word shoots a lance of pure fury through him like no other, but this seething anger comes with a sense of helplessness. He doesn’t know what to do. “Don’t leave.” He tries to make it sound like a command instead of the plea that it is.

“I promise it’s better that I do,” she says, standing up. “Before either of us say or do something we can’t take back.”

“No,” he says, firm and simple. No.

She doesn’t look swayed. If anything, she looks tired. Exasperated, like he’s nothing more than a petulant child throwing a tantrum. “You don’t get to say no to me here. We’ll talk later, okay?”

Homelander lunges. He catches her face between his hands, and kisses her with everything he’s got.It’s a desperate move. Maybe she'll taste that in the way he presses his lips to hers, feel how much he wants her. How much he needs her. She takes hold of his wrists, makes a muffled noise of protest, but he doesn’t let go. He can’t let go.

“Stop,” she manages to get out, pressing hard against his chest now. “Jo–Homelander,” she stresses, but he’s certain he can turn this around. If he can just remind her of how good things were a minute ago, how good he can make her feel, how good he can be for her, then she’ll stop this. She’ll stay.

The harder she pushes against him, the tighter he holds her. She twists, but he doesn’t want her to speak anymore. The more they’ve said, the worse things have gotten. He kisses her like he means to suffocate her, fingers digging in behind her jaw, mouth stifling hers. He can hardly feel her lips anymore, she’s drawn them into a thin line, gritting her teeth behind them. He steps closer, feels her bump into the bed behind her. If he can just–

Something shifts, and Layla makes a distinctly pained noise. The sharpness of it snaps Homelander out of it, has him letting her go like he’s been burned by the touch of her. Both of her hands go to her mouth, where she’s been hurt. She touches the inside of her bottom lip, and her fingers come away bloody. He’s split the skin against her bottom teeth. Her eyes are horribly glassy, and when she looks at him, she looks…

Disappointed.

Stricken, he reaches for her. “I’m sor–”

She sidesteps his touch, dipping to snatch her purse up from where she had dropped it. She hurriedly throws her coat on, covering up all the marks he had been so proud of just this morning. 

“Layla! Layla! Would you just–would you just stop? Please!” He follows her to the door. She’s practically running from him. He catches her wrist, easily stopping her in her tracks. He could keep her here if he wanted to. It would be so easy.  “Please don’t leave me. It’s…” He holds her wrist in a loose but unopening grip, gesturing helplessly with his free hand. “It’s my birthday,” he whispers, strained.

It’s not. He doesn’t know when his birthday is. Everything he’s ever known has been a sham. His life is a fucking joke.

Tears roll freely down her cheeks. He can smell the salt in them, smell her blood, see traces of it between her lips.The copper tang of it makes his stomach churn in a way blood never has.

“Happy birthday, Homelander,” she whispers back, pulling out of his grasp, and turning towards the door.

His hand falls limply to his side. The door to his penthouse opens, it closes, and just like that, he’s all alone. His eyes prickle hotly with tears, a tremble running through his core. He stands there a long while, feeling naked and vulnerable well beyond his nudity.

Something has just been taken from him. He had it, and now it’s gone. That contentedness. It had been bundled warmly in his arms this morning, only to be ripped away with such abrupt violence, it left him shivering cold.

“Fuck,” he whispers, pushing his hands into his hair, squeezing it until his scalp starts to ache. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” He roars, catching a nearby vase in his hand. He hurls it across the room with such force that it explodes in every direction upon impact, and a particularly large piece cracks into the center of the mirror hanging on his wall, fracturing it into a web-like pattern.

Homelander stares numbly at his ugly, fragmented reflection.

Just us now.

He closes his eyes, sick of his own tear-stricken face.

I hate you. Chapter Seven.

[thekiltongrammarwriter]

Becca makes you do her daily run with her. You were reluctant at first until you saw her in her running outfit…. now you can’t help but always run with her if it means seeing her in those fits 😵‍💫

Ok but how cute is her little jump!!! Becca bell you have my heart 😵‍💫🥹🙈

Going on a run with Becca even though you are not a particularly keen runner, but you do it for the sake of Becca’s wide smiles, her angled blue eyes that seem to light up at just the sight of you in your running gear. Your exercise clothes hugging your curves, and making her just want to pin you the nearest tree and ravish you.

“It’s only a few more paces. I thought you won the bleep test years ago!” Becca laughs, you huff, trying hard to keep up by your girlfriend’s side.

“Tell you what sweet Angel, next one to outrun the other gets a special privilege”. Her eyebrows arch, “it means I’ll pin you to a tree and have my wicked way with you, you’d like that wouldn’t you bunny?”.

😭😭

[paradise-bi-the-dashboard-lightt]

We sit alone and watch your lights Our only friend through teenage nights And everything we want to get We donwload from the internet

[sprnklersplashes]

I'm bored so here's my ranking of some if not all of the Veronica outfits in Heathers.

I am just going to be talking general costumes, so I won't be doing a new post for each alteration, but I'll talk about them if I can.

2014 Off-Broadway (worn by Barrett Wilbert Weed/Charissa Hogeland/Cait Fairbanks)

honestly.... 10/10. I love this costume. I love the dark blue. I love that while blue is the dominant colour the grey skirt and white shirt stop it being all-encompassing. I love the subtle pattern on the skirt. I love the square buttons and I don't care if they are impractical because she just rips that bad boy open in Dead Girl Walking anyway. I love the little sparkly thing at her collar and I love the dark outline on her collar. And I love her watch! She accessorises!

Most of all... I love those shoes. So much that I saw a similar pair in a charity shop window and got them and sometimes consider painting a section blue. They are adorable.

(Also, fun rumour; apparently they had considered having Ronnie wear heels in the Off-Broadway version but they scrapped it because Barrett Weed is 5'9" and when she had heels it meant Veronica was taller than JD. Which would've been amazing but we got these shoes in the end. And it also made me notice that Veronica is the only one of the Heathers not wearing heels and she is still the tallest)

(also the original line in Beautiful was "ask me how it feels wearing these badass heels")

Overall, I feel like this costume just feels very real. I didn't live in the 80s, but I look at this and I don't see A Costume. I see something a real girl would wear in this fictionalised version of the 1980s.

2021 West End (worn by Christina Bennington)

Solid 9/10. My favourite detail is the blue plaid miniskirt, I just think it's a cool little unique detail. And yes I said above that I liked that the Off Bway one wasn't all blue, but I think the variation in shades makes up for it and also I'm not consistent in anything. I also love the oversized blazer, it's so cool and I think it fits Veronica's character as a messy misfit who doesn't fit in and is essentially trying to be something she's not. Also I love the navy shoes.

2023 Off West End/Tour (worn by Miracle Chance and Lizzy Emery)

8/10. I love overall that it's a fun change from the standard Veronica outfit. I love the almost military-style jacket, it's a cool silhouette and it makes the outfit a bit more interesting. As does the black and white skirt. I swear there used to be a darker version of the jacket somewhere which would bump it to an 8.5, but overall I love this outfit.

Also, you can't see them in this picture but the brown and blue shoes are a plus, I love them. I love splashes of blue on Veronica's shoes in case you can't tell.

West End 2018/UK Tour 2021/Off West End 2021-2022 (worn by Carrie Hope Fletcher, Olivia Moore, Becca Wickes, May Tether, Ailsa Davidson, Kaleigh McKnight and probably some more)

6/10

sigh.... Listen I don't hate this outfit. I just think it's quite basic. I mean the shoes are cute and overall it's nice. The bow is a nice touch I do like the bow. The bow is nice. I'd prefer a darker shade of blue. Up close you can see some details on the skirt but at a distance it looks quite plain. Kudos to Carrie for accessorising with skull earrings though.

There are some variations. I like Becca Wickes' blue skirt, as we know I'm a sucker for a blue skirt.

Also the little necktie.... on its own it's fine, but I'm not a fan of Veronica and the Heathers all having matching neckties. I like the Off Broadway version gave them some variation.

Argentina (Julia Tozzi)

A whole 10/10. I love this look so much. I love the waistcoat, always put Veronica in a waistcoat. I love the tights and the boots? Holy shit I love the boots. I am so in favour of giving Veronica a tie. This outfit has so much character in it and I am in love with it. Does it look a bit too modern? Maybe. Do I care? Hell no. This outfit eats, no wonder JD was in love with her.

[marilynthornhilllover]

Rebecca Welton/black reader, celebrating their honeymoon with smut?

The honeymoon (Rebecca's version)

Rebecca Welton x black!reader

Warning: smut, indecent language, cunniligus, fingering , praise kink, skin kissing/licking, shower sex, thigh riding, fluff

A/n: this was so fun to write omggg, please enjoy 😏

You started working at AFC Richmond 3 years ago as Rebecca's assistant. Rebecca was someone every one would want in a friend, wife etc, she was simply perfect. Always dressed elegantly, beautiful eyes and a smile that could heal wounds.

Rebecca became close to you after you had no one to eat with at lunch. So she decided to let you eat it in her office with her as you both have small talk. Time passed and you and Rebecca would always eat lunch together as you learned more about eachother, and to both your surprises you both had lots in common.

Over the course of time you found yourself falling in love with her, and so was she. Whenever you were in despair your heart would long to hear her voice, her laugh or to simply be in her embrace.

You weren't completely taken back when she first asked you out, then to be her girlfriend, then to marry her. You were on cloud nine, you made her the happiest woman alive.

It was the night of your wedding and you were having a great time. The music was a vibe, the food was delicious, everyone was happy including the newly weds. You and Rebecca.

Rebecca had told you all the things she was planning to do to you on the honeymoon and you honestly couldn't wait any longer.

♡

"We're here, darling" Rebecca spoke as the rubbed your thigh, waking you up from your slumber, the ride was very long. You opened your eyes and smiled softly at her, you got lost in her gorgeous eyes for a moment before she placed a soft kiss on your lips and got out of the car.

You stretched as you got out the car as well to help with the suitcases. You looked up at the hotel, it was huge. You knew she paid alot of money for this, after all this was the kind of hotels celebrities go to.

You both removed all luggage from the vehicle and a guy came running up to you both in a tuxedo. He greeted you both with a welcoming smile and bow before taking the suitcases inside on a shiny bellhop.

"This is amazing becca" you said turning to her to before taking one last look at the hotel.

"Any thing for my queen, now get on" she spoke before pushing you onto a bellhop and standing behind you, holding you around your mid section as another guy came and pushes you both inside.

You both jumped off thanking the guy before walking to the front desk.

" ah yes Ms. Welton good evening" the lady spoke with a smile before turning her head in your direction. She gaved you a wink before handing Rebecca the door keycard and a spare key.

" thank you rosa" Rebecca said as she winked. The lady hummed in response with a wicked smirk on her face before returning to her computer work.

You couldn't help the grin on your face as both you and Rebecca got into an elevator. The door closed and it started moving.

You looked down at your ring and chuckled softly.

"Becca" her name sounded so beautiful coming from your mouth.

" Yes my love" she replied turning to face you with a smile.

"What was that between you and rosa?" You asked smiling.

"Let's just say we've been friends for over a decade and I've been planning this for a long time so she knows what's gonna go down tonight" she cooed kissing your nose.

The elevator ding as the doors opened. You couldn't think straight. The butterflies in your tummy was making you sick. You couldn't wait to be destroyed by Rebecca welton tonight.

You both stepped out and opened your room door.

" wait babe is our room the only one up here?" You asked confused.

"Yes darling, it's not called a honeymoon suit for nothing. Can't have people hearing your moans for me tonight now can we?" She said with a smirk. You swore you turned red as a tomato.

She chuckled as you both entered. Your jaw absolutely dropped. The flat was amazing.

"Take a look around then get into the lingerie set" she cooed taking off her jacket.

"Oh y/n, don't go into the room that has a gold plate on it that says honeymoon, it's your surprise" she shouted from the kitchen. You looked through all the other room, they were next level rich life and old money aesthetic.You looked at the magic door and couldn't help but squeal.

You were so excited. You ran into the bathroom and put on your lingerie set Rebecca bought for you.

Your jaw dropped when you opened the box.

It was a pair of red lace underwear and bra with a red garter tong and a black slik dress lingerie. You felt your core ache at just the thought of what Rebecca would be doing to you.

You saw on message on your phone pop up from Rebecca.

My wife: come to the room when your finish darling ;).

You quickly put on everything and went to the bedroom.

♧

Rebecca crawled onto to you pressing her knee against your dampen underwear. You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips. Her lips suddenly crashed against yours in a heated and sloppy kiss.

Her cold hands made its way underneath your lingerie sending shivers through your body. Her fingers clasped the hem of the gown and pulled it over your head.

"God you look tasty" she whispered as her eyes flicked up to yours. She bit her lips as she got off the bed and and kneeled in front of it. She pulled your thighs open and pulled you down to the very edge.

"I'm going to absolutely destroy you my wife" she cooed pulling off your garter thong from your thigh, pulling down your lace underwear with it.

"I'm all yours becca" you giggled as she spread your legs wider, putting your legs over her shoulder. Rebecca wasted no time as her mouth latched onto your clit. Her tongue flicked up and down your clit, sucking and pulling at the small sensitive bud.

Your hips bucked as your legs began to shake slightly, you were so close to the edge. Rebecca's pace was brutal against your cunt. Your knuckles were starting to turn white from the grip you had on the sheets.

You shut your eyes as the pleasure became unbearable. Rebecca pushed two fingers into you as she curled them, setting an brutal pace just as her tongue. You arched your back as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"FUCK- b- becca oh my god" you choked on your moans as her fingers hit that spongy spot in you that always has you screaming.

"Mhmh, cum for me my love" she mumbled against your cunt the vibrations sending you right over the edge. You cumed all over her fingers making her smile. She removed her fingers and licked them clean keeping eye contact with you.

"Fuck you taste so good darling" she growled as she leaned down and began to kiss you passionately, biting your bottom lip and pulling it out as she pulled away.

"Now for the second part of the night" she said as she stood up and walked to the night stand to get wip cream.

You looked at her in confusion but allowed her to do her thing.

She started putting wip cream all over your skin. Your thighs, neck, nipples, stomach etc.

After she threw the bottle across the room making it land with a loud bang as the metal bottle it the ground. You giggled as she hungrily began licking the wip cream off your skin.

All this she did while keeping direct eye contact with you, her green eyes boring into your soul. It made you more horny. She licked and kiss every inch of your skin leaving marks on it. Her marks, owning you.

She started showering you with praises.

"Such a good girl for me"

" Your so pretty"

"I'm so lucky to have you as mine aren't i?"

"Oh you like that?"

You felt so hot and bothered it was ridiculous how good she was making you feel. You felt like you were on cloud nine.

She finally reached your nipples, she was insatiable. Sucking your nipples like a baby, teeth slightly grazing them making you arch your chest into her moaning and whimpering.

She picked you up and took you into the shower. Your legs wrapped tightly around her waist as your hands pulled at her hair. She let go of your nipple with a 'pop' and moved to the other one. Watching attentively at your brows knitted together and mouth slightly agape.

She chuckled as she released your nipple kissing you sloppily and slow. That ache in your core returned. You pushed her onto the shower bench moving to straddled her thigh.

"Tonight I'm taking what's mine my wife" you whispered as you moved to kiss her neck. You slowly began to move your cunt against her thigh chasing your second orgasm for the night.

Rebecca grabbed your hips as she guided your pace. A fast and brutal one, flexing her thigh sending you straight over the edge.

You calmed down and pulled back to look at her. She had love and adoration in her eyes. You both flashed eachother a small smile before hugging eachother hard before getting up and showering each other.

She kissed you all over your body and so did you. You both watched a romance movie together before falling asleep in eachothers arms, lovingly and happy.

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

Peter is yelling, hands cupped at his mouth.

Howie is on his feet, cheering.

Clint’s on the ring edge, calling out tips.

Steve’s staring down the opponent’s boyfriend.

Bucky watches her dodge right, hands up protecting her face. Her knee comes up, connecting with the girl’s side. She stoops, her first mistake. Y/N grabs the back of her head, her toes barely touching the ring mat, before her knee comes back up faster this time. Y/N slams the girl’s head down, meeting her knee. Shoving the girl back, into the ropes, when she stumbles from the knee to the face, Y/N winds up, throwing an absolute ruthless right hook to the jaw.

Her head snaps back, blood spraying, her body goes limp, hitting the mat with a thump.

The Ditch goes nuts, screaming from all sides. Cheering, celebrating, talking shit.

TC dips under the ropes, grabbing Y/N’s hand, holding it up, cheering just as loud.

When the Stark’s meet eyes. Howie and Peter are on their feet. Y/N bounces on her toes, all three at the same time, flex inward, with a loud “AHHHHH!” at one another.

“That’s our girl!” Becca is on her feet, screaming for her best friend.

He grins when his girl locks eyes with him. She grins, rolling her eyes at him.

They still went to The Ditch, sometimes TC worked the decks there. Mainly when Y/N wanted to beat on bitches for kicks. She was getting Becca into it now. Only Y/N’s now fighting top fighters from other areas, coming to see what she’s made of.

Sure she might be taking over the table, running her own mafia, and be the most feared thing in Saints high school, but she’s still the girl that needs a good fight to feel calm. Compromises were made between him and her when they started settling into life together. Like her training with Frankie and TC, after the battle for her, she never wants to be underprepared for another fight. He couldn’t blame her, encouraged her.

The memory of her in the hospital, damaged and broken, burned into his mind for life.

A tight feeling appeared in his chest, worrying about his baby sister taking over.

“Boss man?” She’s next to him, Clint cutting the tape off her hands. Steve, cleaning up the few cuts on her.

“The right hook, baby girl.” He shakes his head, smirking at her. “I’d say it’s blessed by Satan.” He chuckles, leaning into kiss her.

“But I am Satan.” She laughs against him, kissing him again.

“Don’t we know it.” Clint snorts.

“Unlikely to ever forget it.” Steve shakes his head.

“And if you do, I’ll remind you.” She sasses, like a snotty teenager.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” The two mutter at the same time, laughing.

“Ah.” Steve pauses.

“What?” He asks.

Steve scratches the back of his head. “Is that new or old?” He cut his eyes to her thigh and back away.

Fingerprints, on the outside of her thigh, a thumb print on the inside of her thighs.

“Old.” She grins in Steve’s face.

“Scarred for life.” Becca whines, walking away.

Clint looks down and back to her. “That’s hot.” He grins.

“Fuck yeah.” She laughs, they high five.

“Alright, enough of that.” He pushes Clint away, making him laugh.

-----

The house party loud and packed. The typical Friday night high school parties for them. He sat on the couch talking with the guys. “What’s the policy for fighting here?” Howie laughs, sipping from his beer bottle.

“Don’t. Why?” Steve smirks.

“Cause if Smalls sees that girl eye fucking Bucky, that policy won’t matter to her.” Peter laughs.

“Does any rule?” Bucky sighs.

They all laugh.

“Boss man.” She saunters up to them. Dark cut off shorts, a cut short red T-shirt, with a black sports bra underneath. Her ball cap turned backwards, dark hair in messy waves.

“Doll?” He smirks up at her when she comes to stop the side of the couch, he’s on.

She leans down, black fingernails tip his chin up towards her. Her eyes cut to the side and instead of kissing him as he thought. She licks him, from his jaw to his eyebrow. Staring down the girl watching him. She looks startled before she bumps into someone trying to get away.

“Much better.” She smiles pretty walking away.

Peter’s brow yanks down. Howie looks confused. Steve and Clint are unbothered.

“Did our baby sister,” Howie blinks.

“Lick you?” Peter’s eyelids flutter quickly.

“Yup.” Clint and Steve reply, throwing back shorts.

“What in the fuck?” Peter laughs.

“Not new.” Clint shakes his head, downing his beer.

TC is moving towards them, a look of worry on his face.

“What?” He puts his cup down.

“Pretty sure Eddie is across the street.” He jerks his thumb backwards.

They exchange a look between the five of them before jumping up and hurrying out of the house.

Indeed, on the other side of the road, sits Eddie parked, leaning against his car. He smirks at them, as they come to stand on the walkway of the house.

“Gwen get in the house.” Y/N’s voice hits his ears.

“Y/N.” Gwen sounds nervous.

“Wanda stay here.” Y/N orders, he can hear her coming up behind them. She cuts around him, walking down the path, they follow her. She stops on the edge of the curb.

Eddie flicks his eyes from her to Becca, standing next to her.

“Try it.” Y/N warns him.

Eddie smirks, cutting his eyes back to Y/N. They stare back at one another.

She stares him down, Buck looks from Eddie to Y/N, something dark and dangerous in her brown eyes.

It’s Eddie who blinks first, looking away. Suddenly he gets back into his car, leaving.

She turns on them, staring at each of them for a moment.

“Something you boys need to tell me?” Her brow lifts, Becca looks tense next to her.

“We don’t know what that was about.” He assures her.

She nods slowly. Cutting between them heading back towards her girls at the door. The six of them exchange a look, heading for her. She pauses, taking the cup from Gwen, she turns to them standing above them on the front stoop.

“You better swear on whatever god you believe in, Boss man; you didn’t lie to me.” She repeats the saying from the beginning, when they first started out and Ben Rielly and Sina were causing issues for them. The ice cold look in her eyes, makes his steps stop suddenly.

“I’ll make your life hell, James Barnes, you think before was rough, you haven’t seen shit yet.” She warns him. Turning, she steps into the house between her friends, walking away.

Fear creeps into his chest.

He swallows hard.

-------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @irepeldirt @joannie95 @nunu2888 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @destiel-artemis @hookslove1592 @CallSign-Vesta @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @wonderswrittings @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love