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#john boyega
slippinninque · 1 day
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🫣🍑Private Dancer🍑🫣
Or: You discover another half to the secret you thought you were keeping
Fontaine x blackfemreader
Warnings: MINORS DNI, cursing, use of the n-word, mentions of smoking/weed, P-in-V, mentions of insecurity, long fic
Truth was, you were a secret shaker.
A tentative twerker. An apprehensive ass-thrower. Your waist whined when being perceived directly and not in a good way. Not only did you decline to throw ass in public, you will also turn away any offers to catch it.
You learned chorography to your favorite sounds, bounced around your living room as you folded clothes. Recorded dance challenges and deleted them a few hours later. You were your very own Stallion behind closed doors.
When you were alone, though...
It took only a handful of awkward encounters and an asshole ex-boyfriend suggesting you 'stand to the side' for you to be determined to find your rhythm.
Looking up tips online and went to any beginner's classes you could find in the area. Ballroom, salsa, the pole--it all helped you understand your body outside of what it looked like. It was about what you trained it to do, what you wanted it to do.
Investing in a really good floor length mirror was the last puzzle piece you needed to really find your beat. From there on, you and the mirror were lovers.
Only your small circle of friends knew. That was thanks to enough years of trust and tequila, leading to wild nights at house parties with the radio cranked high.
You eventually learned that it was nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like it kept you away from fun or being included in the antics. If you went out with the ladies, you hyped them and kept a cute lil' two step. You held the title of Camerawoman with pride and your background cackles were famous in the group chat.
The booty wouldn't boogie with anyone else around and it's been that way for years.
It was your own little secret. No one had to know everything and you babbled enough as it was. If anyone cared to stare hard enough to a deserted, dark corner of the house--then maybe they could catch a glimpse.
The sway-snap of your hips, falling beautifully with every beat that you heard. How your hair gleamed, the way your smile swelled with the change of the songs.
Your entire body sang a song.
At least, that's what Fontaine thought when he first spotted you.
Of course you never knew he saw you. Even after the reciprocated confessions and hot-n-heavy honeymoon phase, you thought you went unseen.
Fontaine took your secret for his own, delighting in your shadow shows on the rare occasions you came out to play.
Fontaine could wait and if you had to feel alone to feel secure, then so be it. He used his admiration and desire to touch you, to be a proper witness.
Just being near you was more then enough, it would have been ungrateful to be so greedy.
------
You screamed when you saw him standing there.
The earbuds went off into the wilds of the kitchen, one skittering beneath the fridge.
Fontaine's eyes were popped wide but didn't seem remorseful for scaring your soul to the heavens.
"I thought you heard me when I came in." Fontaine hung up his keys before going in search of your earbuds. You watched after him, mortified.
You were just really into organizing the lower pantry. Lost in shaking your ass with one hand braced on the red potatoes and the other searching for the brown potatoes to put them back in their proper spot.
When you turned to grab the few 'taters that eacaped, you saw your man standing a few feet away from you with his arms crossed and head tilted.
How long has he been here?
Oh god, you have never danced for him. You have never danced in front of him--you weren't even serious. There wasn't a problem with you shimmying to the beat in his lap at a function or waving from your hips up while riding in the car to some jams.
This was different.
"Hey, hey--whatcha curling up for? C'mon now, I already know you can move."
"It-- that, um, I-I'm not that good, so, y'know..."
Fontaine pocketed your traumatized earbuds and kissed your hands until you inched them away enough for him to see your worried gaze. He tutted quietly, taking your hands into his and kissing your knuckles.
"What matters to me is what makes you feel good, baby." His voice rolled into a purr as he continued, "Lucky me that you look so fine when you do."
You wriggled as your shyness battled against the excitement of having Fontaine looking at you the way he was.
"So I don't look.... awkward? Do I have enough stuff to make it look good?"
"Wasn't nothing awkward 'bout how you were throwin' that, trust me."
Fontaine's hands went down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass. His palms were warm and wide as he kneaded, bringing you even closer to him as you went to your tiptoes. He hooked his chin over your shoulder with a happy little him, distracted by you but only for only a moment more.
"Hold up, whatchu mean by 'enough stuff' ?"
You shrugged and decided not to answer. The truth of past insecurities felt redundant and you rather liked the way Fontaine was making you feel at the moment.
Fontaine grunted, giving you another squeeze before pulling back a bit to look into you square in the eyes.
"Look here-- I'm in love with all this right here, so I'm rockin' with you regardless of what you can make it do. Don't matter if you think you ain't got enough, shit, it's enough fo', me. Understand?"
His words worked out the few kinks in your heart, aches you grown used to and ignored when they flared. You nodded more confidently and only then did Fontaine lighten his hold on you, nodding back.
No telling how long Fontaine was standing there and if you never turned around-- you would have been none the wiser. How many times has he been there? Letting you have yourself, taking only a moment for himself as he had that smile on his face.
It was the same smile he had when he took away the shea butter to rub you down himself. Or similar to the smirk on his face when following after you to the bedroom after you talked a bit too much shit.
Your shoulders dropped as you fully relaxed into his hold. The burning embarrassment in your stomach churned into smooth, seamless and leaving you suddenly eager.
"So, tell me what a nigga gotta do to get a private dance from yo' pretty self?"
His hands helped themselves to another handful, this time spreading to touch between your legs. There was promise in his eyes and you knew you only needed to say yes.
You twist away from him enough to pluck your phone from the counter, sliding through a few songs before settling on something with drums and bass. The speakers pulsed and you began backing Fontaine out of the kitchen and into the living room.
He let you push him to sit in the recliner and he made an appreciative sound at the way you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. It evolved, going deeper until you pulled away with a protesting noise from Fontaine.
"That's the only touching you gonna get from me right now."
"Oh, word?"
"You're going to distract me enough as it is." You said, stepping away from him and stretching your arms over your head.
"Bold as hell to call me a distraction." Fontaine's brows rose as he leaned back to make himself comfortable, "Lookin' at me with them eyes..."
His eyes hooked onto your hips. You stretched, teasingly bending over and holding onto your ankles as you gave a cute lil' shake, looking over your shoulder coyly .
"What can I use to look if it ain't my eyes?" You asked, "How am I supposed to see you?"
"Don't worry 'bout what you see back here, act like a nigga ain't even here."
"Oh, that's impossible now. You still make me feel so shy..."
Fontaine snorted and your gave a giddy smile in return.
What you wore was actually perfect. Tiny shorts and cami, perfect for when you were bounding around to clean house. Just what you needed for you to do a little Bend n' Snap for your man.
The music changed and you looked over at him in surprise, he held your phone but watched you with a mischief. Reaching for the little, polka dotted stash jar you left on the coffee table to pull out a blunt to wag at you.
"Go on, show me what you got fo' me."
Waiting until he fired up, you sauntered closer and tied up the front of your already teeny tank. Fontaine's eyes honed in to your nipples, distracted as he took a drag. When his fingers crooked, you leaned in enough and pursed your lips.
Fontaine blew a strong stream that you breathed in and held. You held as long as you could before releasing the smoke a final time into the air.
Fontaine's blunts were no-nonsense, where he still rolled with leaves rather than the papers you preferred. It felt like a straight shot to the head, the smoke lifting all the chatter in your mind to leave you swirling in electric eagerness.
Without further ado, you showed him what you could do.
Your hands braced on your knees, clasped above your head, went down to touch your toes. You rolled your stomach and snapped your hips mouthing the words to Fontaine as you fully felt yourself. You extended your arms and tried to be as dramatically sexy as possible. Touching all of Fontaine's favorite places yourself, pushing up your breast and skimming your hand between your legs for him to see.
Fontaine was a chaotic DJ as he flipped through your playlist. He went from instrumentals filled with nothing but baselines and adlibs, to Glorilla to Megan Thee Stallion to Trina. Whistling at every peek of cheek and nip, calling out to see the 'pretty lady' when you coyly fanned your legs at him from the floor.
When you got down on your hands and knees, you felt a smack against your cheeks hard enough to snap your illusion. You leaned onto your forearms, ass up in the air, and broke into laughter as more bills rained down. It was like a confetti canon was let off or someone hit the Golden Button for you.
"That felt personal." You said over your shoulder at where Fontaine sent another fan of bills into the air, "You tryin' to tell me something?"
"Yeah--to bring that ass over here so I can get my hands on you," Fontaine patted his thigh, "Thought this was gonna be a lap dance..."
"Private does not mean lap." You sniffed. Honestly, you weren't sure because you've never been to a strip club but with the way he was throwing bills--the living room was cosplaying as a VIP section at King of Diamonds.
You took your time in coming closer, wondering if you could skip on singles before Fontaine snatched you right up when you were close enough.
"This is too much! When did you even have time to take out all these damn dollars?"
"I been waiting on this, baby. Shit, I woulda threw gold if it ain't' hurt..."
You laughed and looked around at the singles carpeting your floor in disbelief, it's like you had a new rug installed! There were dollars all overt the coffee table and even some fluttered over to coat the entertainment center. Was there a dollar up in the light fixture? Was that a fire hazard?
Fontaine's teeth nipped at your earlobe, turning your next remark into soft moan. His hand ran up to cup your neck, breathing you in with a hungry hum.
His voice was all smoke and honey, "This is all well an' good, but I think I'm feeling a certain type of way..."
"Is it the horny way?"
Your cheekiness got you mean little pinch to your sensitive nipples. Jolting only pushed you closer to his greedy hands. It was his turn to touch. He plucked and twisted your nipples, making you mewl and melt into his touch. You ground down into his lap where you felt he needed you most, making him sigh into your ear.
"Gonna be the death of me, ain't ya?" Fontaine husked, "Here lies 'Taine, bust so hard he went on to glory. He leaves everything to his pretty-booty havin' lady."
"What if I promise to shake somethin' on your grave, would that be better--no biting!"
Fontaine growled something into the mouthful of shoulder he had, shaking his head gently and making you squeal and scrunch up to try and escape.
Still warm from being in the spotlight of Fontaine's attention and the pulsing music, your head swam with delight. It felt like victory. You turned and kissed at the side of his face before your lips met.
When your grinding became more insistent, Fontaine leaned back with his lip caught between his teeth.
Allowing yourself to be admired and seen was like nothing else. Fontaine has always shown nothing but devotion to you but you still felt like he was...just being nice. You were holding yourself back from assumed disappointment but this whole time he's been waiting on you.
Talk about blocking your blessings...
"That's what I'm talkin' about. Show me how you feel."
You looked over you shoulder, holding his hands against your breast as you rode in his lap. Fontaine hissed, one of his hands quickly escaped to clasp around your hips to grind up into you.
Leaning forward enough on your hands, your delicates went directly in his face as you tugged at his pant leg pointedly. Fontaine ignored your impatience and ran a hand over you, from between your shoulders down to the backs of your thighs.
You could hear him popping the button on his jeans and the rattle of his belt.
"How bad you want it, pretty?"
"Bad, real bad."
"'Do anything fo' it' bad?"
" 'Let you do anything to me' bad."
It happened fast after that, Fontaine righted you in his lap enough for him to press into your pussy. The stretch dropped your mouth open and Fontaine groaned at how wet you already were.
LOW started and you bounced to the beat, grinning dopily up at the ceiling at the feel of him hitting all your good spots. Your shorts provided a wonderful friction against your clit from how Fontaine shoved the fabric aside to let himself in.
It felt so naughty. To fuck on Fontaine like you were starved for him to the music rattling your walls. The thrill twisted with desire in your stomach, hurtling you faster and faster to your peek.
Suddenly more bills rained down and paired with Fontaine's laugh, more lust than amusement--it pushed you over the edge.
"Thta's it, I feel you, g'on and get yo' shit. Can't believe yo' pretty ass was shy..."
Fontaine took over. A bruising grip onto your hips, tipped you back into his chest as he thrust up into you in earnest.
"Puttin' that shit on me heavy, acting like you don't know what you do to me." Fontaine found a few singles that were being crumpled between you and pressed them to your dewy, lower back.
"Shieet, looks better than money. Wish you can see as much as yo' ass feel it, fuck." He gave your ass slap, you called out as you came. It felt like fire shot through you, leaving you reaching for any bit of him to clutch.
Between the music still going and Fontaine handling you so well, the sensations left you gasping. Legs burning and head filled with needy thoughts, you protested when Fontaine stopped your bouncing and maneuvered you until he slid free.
"Oh, show ain't over yet--you feel me?"
You did. Fontaine was heavy and hot where he tapped all over your ass, leaving kisses of wet spots. It filled you with a flash of pride or maybe even possessiveness. Craining your neck, you did you best to get a glimpse but Fontaine hand cupped your neck licked the shell of your ear.
"Yeah, that's you gettin' all over me. Tryna make me messy just how you like it, huh?"
He hissed when you writhed in his lap, ghost riding his dick until he gave you a little push to stand. Your mouth dropped open to whine but Fontaine turned you towards the middle of the room.
"Show me how you want it."
Fontaine held himself tight at the base, his lips lax enough for his gold to wink in the lamp light.
As gracefully as you could--you went down onto your knees before lying back to put your legs in the air. You rolled over in the blanket of dollars, wriggling down your shorts to one ankle until you could flick them away.
Fontaine grinned down at you, kneeling to slot his palm into the arch of your foot, his other hand stroking himself.
Fontaine moved your other thigh to the side around his hip, leaving you spread completely. You were still working, still giving him a show, but you couldn't bear to keep your hands off of him.
He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, eyes fixed to where his dick bumped against your mound.
"Prettiest thing touchin' soil and you think it ain't enough..."
"Hurry up, Mr. Lapdance--the show ends when the music does."
When you hand ran under his shirt, Fontaine tugged it over his head swiftly and much to your delight. The sight of his broad chest and delicious skin made you all the more impatient.
Fontaine's eyes flashed.
The image formed in your mind was electric. Pretending to be a little Stallion and running into a hungry handed, greedy eyed Fontaine in low strobe lights.
"You lucky we ain't meet like that. D'you wanna know what I would do if you showed out like that on a pole?
Not knowing just what he had in store for you as you led him to the privacy booths--intent on earning his attention.
When you licked your lips, Fontaine groaned softly, you smiled at him.
What's another little secret?
Pressing into your heat, Fontaine grumbled something about Home Depot.
"I did take a few classes, if you ever wanna see ahn--!"
Drunk on pleasure, you could only cry out as Fontaine chased his thoughts out loud. The change in position, with him looming above you muttering filthy promises--it was too much for you.
"Shouldn't have told me that, now I gotta put a stage in here somewhere in this bitch..."
"O-Oh fuck, 'Taine!"
He froze to watch your eyes roll close as you shook apart beneath him with a sob. Fontaine lowered himself to bracket you between his forearms to kiss you, swallowing your moans. His hips snapped, lost rhythm and then he was coming with satisfied growl.
That was it. You were dead. Your very soul leaked onto his thighs and the carpet below.
'Here lies me, twerked too close to the sun...'
Fontaine releases a heavy, satisfied hum into your ear as he finally collapsed onto you. It should have been stifling and your knew your legs would be useless for the next while, but all you could do was grin at the feel of the dollar bill stuck to his shoulder.
What a way to go....
------
When the playlist finally ended, the silence found you both covered in sweat and dollar bills. Fontaine rubbed a loc of your hair between his fingers and you rested your eyes--head on his shoulder. Your hand wandering aimlessly across his chest as you began to doze.
He tugged gently to get your attention, "Want you to do me a favor."
"Mn. If it involves moving, you gotta pay me."
Fontaine snorted and flicked away the bill stuck to the thigh you've strewn across him. You shrugged a shoulder with a lifted brow, you got me there.
He continued, "If you can help it...I'd like for you not to hide from me anymore."
The change in his tone had you searching for his gaze and of course it was already on you. Fontaine took your hand in his, turning yours until he held it in his open palm.
"I...okay. I can do that for you."
You weren't ready to talk about the past and trying to make sense of your complicated feelings of being perceived. Something told you that it wasn't the time, maybe it was you hiding again, but at least Fontaine took your words earnestly.
He kissed your hand once, twice before leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he went back to playing with your locs.
"Oouf you are terrible." You hid your face into his neck, "But once my legs come back online, you're in trouble."
"Good..and no more watchin' Baddies. Watching them girls fucks wit' your disposition," Fontaine reached for a handful of bills to sprinkle all over you, "You wanna be a Stallion? Lemme know and I'll give you a ride."
Fontaine patted your ass, "Can't threaten me with good troubles, baby."
-----------
ending notes: thank you so much for reading! It's a long one but the idea wouldn't leave me alone! Might need some tweaking and editing since it's another Before Work Drop lmao! Please tell me what you think and what other things I should try, don't be shy! Comment and reblog please! 💕🥰💜
Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @miyuhpapayuh @cardierreh15 @mcondance @thadelightfulone@mag1calenchantr3ss@cocoeffects@wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached@thadelightfulone@hobiesmain@thickeeparker@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina
(Added a more after some slight revisions 🫣)
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old-view-change · 2 days
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trashcora · 2 years
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anderwater · 9 months
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“A pimp, a prostitute and a drug dealer walk into a bar.”
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bladesrunner · 2 years
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Why are you helping me? — Because it's the right thing to do. — You need a pilot. — I need a pilot. — We're gonna do this.
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theweddingguest · 10 months
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Show me a motherfucker with big brown eyes and I’m automatically whipped
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stonegoldsxcrxt · 9 months
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I love you John Boyega
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dynared · 9 months
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Man, They Cloned Tyrone is going out to be completely ignored by Barbenheimer mania, isn’t it? (Or if you have Prime Video, Shin Barbenheimer). It’s a shame because John Boyega, the man can act when he’s not subservient to the will of Disney, and his chemistry with Jaime Foxx and Teyonah Parris makes the plot work in a way lesser actors might not have been able to pull off. I was lucky enough to see the film in a theater last week, but it’s worth the two hours on Netflix.
It’s also a reminder that writers and actors can do unique, fun things and give unique takes on genres like blaxploitation if they’re given the means to do so and aren’t chained to a shared comic book universe or yet another remake.
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JOHN BOYEGA: GQ Interview (2022)
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anderwater · 9 months
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“Look, you know what? Matter of fact? We all about to get some water. We all about to get some of this hydration.”
THEY CLONED TYRONE (2023), dir. Juel Taylor
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melaninpov · 4 months
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