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slippinninque · 27 days

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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 🫣)

#fontaine x black reader #fontaine x reader #Fontaine x you #x black reader #they cloned tyrone #They Cloned Tyrone fic #fontaine #john boyega #Fontaine x blackfemreader #Fontaine x black fem reader #they cloned tyrone fic

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johnpriceslamb · 7 months

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౨ৎ Who knew the captain of the 141 could be such a gentle caregiver ?

His voice was much softer, Scouse accent isn’t as thick. His gaze is rich with tender and gentleness, a giant contrast between his usual stance in his work field— this isn’t captain Price, this is papa. And papa was absolutely besotted with you. A little tot of a baby.

“My sweet girl,” His rough exterior melts completely. A grin- alike of a lazy big dog smiling, etched onto his scarred face. He watches you waddle towards him with that silly lazy grin, to which he leans over further and scoops you right in his burly arms, cradling you as if you were the most precious thing on earth— to which he himself deemed was true.

“Just a little tater tot, aren’t you?” he coos, peppering a few kisses on your chubby cheeks. A squeal and a babble escapes the infants lips, clapping your hands happily, “lil’ wee tot, you are..” He grins happily, “I could just— eat you up, ya little tot.” The baby fever was seriously getting to him. Watching you giggle and coo, it makes his heart melt.

Praise and affection thrown here and there, he bounces you lightly in his lap whilst working on a few documents in his office. He hums a little tune his mama used to sing to him when he was just a wee lad. The sounds of papas voice makes little you ever so sleepy, and the constant vibrations of the gentle movements of his bouncing makes you feel even more sleepy. Soon, comes the slumber, and he lazily tilts his head down to watch you slumber.

He plops a binky in your mouth just in-case.

And with one last kiss placed onto your big chubby cheek, you fell asleep in his arms. In Papas arms.

#price x reader #john price #John price x reader #Price #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x fem! you #john price x fem! reader #john price x fem! you #john price x fem reader #afab reader #fem! reader #sfw agere

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neonblessing · 9 months

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The cats were fighting, and Maggie was singing to them. It was Tater's birthday, apparently. How wonderful.

Shiv cracked her eyes open. The ceiling looked like shit: the paint was peeling, and there was some sort of stain spreading from one corner. The harsh morning light of the street lamps streamed into the room through the busted shade, casting crooked bars of shadow across the room.

The rest of the house looked worse than the ceiling. The cats had left scratches on everything they could reach, and time and neglect had left their marks on anything the cats couldn't. The furniture all looked out of place, collected over decades and haphazardly repaired.

From somewhere in the mismatched house, Maggie was babbling to her cats. "Come on, Candy. Share the fish with your brother. It's his birthday. Share the fish with the birthday baby!" Potato Chip's mournful wail filled the air, accompanied by the sound of chewing and a wary hiss.

Shiv sat up, wincing. She wrenched her head from side to side experimentally, to no avail. Rubbing her neck, she awkwardly swung her legs off the couch and stood up. Shiv picked her way over to the kitchen, for once managing not to stub her toe on the cabinet that protruded into the door frame.

"Morning, Mags."

Maggie jumped as Shiv spoke. "Oh, good morning! I made coffee." Maggie was fucking old. Her eyes were older than Shiv: they were some vintage shit, with protruding lenses that stopped her eyelids from properly closing. An awful little part of Shiv figured their value was somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 grand from an avid collector.

"Where'd you get the fish?" Shiv took a mug off its hook and poured herself some lukewarm coffee. The slogan on the side of the mug demanded silence, at least until the bearer had finished their name-brand coffee. The winking face of a defunct coffee logo grinned up at her as she took a sip.

"A trader's in town, just for the day. Some sort of pilgrim."

"Anything else good?"

"Protein bars, holy symbols, ID chips, and..." she looked around, as if Shiv hadn't swept the place for bugs last week, and dropped her voice. "...ammunition. No guns."

"What did you give him?"

"Some of the kitchen knives."

"You gave him knives for a fish?"

Maggie wrung her leathery hands nervously. "It's Potato Chip's birthday! Besides, they were getting dull."

"You have a whetstone!"

"I don't know how to use it right, and you..." she trailed off, but couldn't stop the glassy lenses of her eyes from flickering to Shiv's shoulder. Or rather, to where her shoulder used to be. Maggie swallowed, her gaudily-dyed hair bobbing in distress.

"I could have taught you! And Tater didn't even get to eat his fish." A contented Candy Bar wound her way about Maggie's legs, purring. Maggie opened and closed her mouth a few times, but said nothing.

Shiv wordlessly grabbed her bag off the couch. It still smelled like the factory that made it, even after a month. Much as it irked her to waste money–she’d already owned a perfectly serviceable bag–this one had velcro. Zippers were too much trouble these days.

She tore it open to behold the extent of her worldly possessions. A change of clothes. Her knife, the one Raz had given her. Rope. A pack of bandages. Disinfectant. Four days of nutrient bars. A wallet, empty save for a credit card and a few coins. A well-worn prayer tablet. A needle and a spool of thread. A ballpoint pen. Content that everything was where it should be, she closed the bag.

Shiv swung her bag over her good shoulder, then fumbled with the doorknob for a moment, nearly dropping her mug. Maggie took half a step forward as if to help, but whatever she saw in Shiv's eyes kept her rooted in place. Shiv pulled the hood of her coat up over her head, and turned to leave. "I… Sorry. I'm going out. Be back by midnight unless I get shot."

#1 #neon blessing #shiv #maggie #potato chip #candy bar

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jarofstyles · 7 months

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FICTOBER DAY 15- Don't You Wonder What's In The Woods?

This one is creepy but if you've lived in similar places you'll know what he's talking about....

FICTOBER

Patreon

------

Y/N’s eyes roamed the treeline, watching as the sun set. It was beautiful, the changing leaves falling from the trees and a slight ringing in the air from the wind chimes on the porch. Harry’s house was settled on a piece of land with a mine or two between neighbors, something that Y/N had initially been spooked by considering she was a city girl that moved here to be closer to her family she was reconnecting with. Harry was a happy accident, a coffee shop cliche turned into a… lover? No labels as of yet, but Y/N was sure that Harry thought of her as his. The public hand holding and kisses goodbye just a few months into her living here had people’s heads turning.

At first, she had stayed in her condo closer to town. Harry had visited there for a while out of convenience, but when they started getting closer and spending whole weekends together, she had been more than okay when he suggested she come to his house for the weekend. It was a beautiful home, wooden and rustic with a large wrap around porch. He had a big detached garage and a garden, and a few dogs and cats that roamed the property during the day but he said always came in at night.

At her feet lay his border collie, Domino, and at his was the german shepherd Tater. (His little cousin got to choose his name, and Harry called him Tate but- Y/N liked the blush when he introduced them). On the gliding bench on her lap was his other, a long haired Chihuahua named Big. Puns, of course. Their mugs had their tea, slightly cooled off now as he had his arm wrapped around her. The weather was getting nippier but he had no problem keeping her warm. The man was big and smelled incredible, not to mention he was a furnace. Fingers stroked Big as her eyes watched the orange sunlight bleed through the trees.

As it got darker, though, he began to get fidgety. She noticed his knee shaking as he tapped his foot, looking at his watch before giving her a kiss on the head. The comfortable quiet was something she really liked- until she heard a shriek in the woods. It was blood curdling, a sound she had never heard before and sent a terror into her stomach. Her body was screaming that something was wrong, something was telling her to run, but she didn’t. She didn’t know what that was. Stiffening up, she looked at Harry wide eyed as the dogs lift their heads, eyes on the trees with a low growl. Harry was watching them, jaw clenched slightly as he beat her to it.

“It’s alright. Don’t worry.” He whispered, relaxing slightly but keeping his eyes on the dogs. “Happens sometimes.”

“And you don’t wonder what it is? How often does it happen?” She sputtered, laughing slightly at how he had dismissed that. Granted, he was the one who lived here his whole life. He knew better, but there was something off about it. “Don’t you ever wonder what’s in the woods? What makes a noise like that?” The girl babbled.

Y/N did not expect him to turn her face, a scarily serious look on his face as he began to talk. “It’s my fault for not… telling you some of the unspoken rules of living out here, but trust me when I say it’s better that we don’t know what’s lurking out there.” His voice was quiet but stern, making Y/N wonder what the hell went on for this to be so serious.

“You never get curious?” Y/N asked. “It’s just bears and cougars and stuff, right? Maybe we should go and look to see if someone is hurt-”

“No.” He said firmly. “It’s… I know you’ll think it’s crazy, but I’m telling you that it isn’t a person who made that sound. I know it.”

“I’ve never heard a bird who sounded like that.” She laughed uneasily, taken aback at the sudden shift. He seemed scared, but irritated almost at her question.

“Me either. But that’s what we are going to tell ourselves it is. It’s better than the alternative.” He said, looking her in the eye. “You aren’t from here, and you’re going to have to learn a lot. That’s no fault of your own. But let me tell you something.” He tipped her head up. “One of the most important things about living out here, in their woods, especially at night- things we don’t know, they know about us. And we don’t know how or what they can do. It’s gone back years and years. If you don’t believe me, humor me for this one thing. Don’t go into those woods alone, ever.”

It made her eyes widen. She’d known Harry to be silly, soft, loving. But this was a new side to him, a very serious side that had her stomach turning in knots. He was deadly with it. There was no doubt he believed what he was saying. “I-I won’t.” She promised. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No- No, you didn’t.” He softened slightly, visibly feeling bad for making her worried as he brushed his thumb over her chin sweetly. “Didn’t upset me darling. I just need you to understand I’m not joking. There are rules no one talks about, things people do that wouldn’t make sense to anyone who hasn’t lived it- and I hope you’ll never have to experience a scare. But listen to me carefully, and remember that you’re safe with me, okay?” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before continuing. “If you hear something, no you didn’t. If you see something? No you didn’t. Don’t answer if someone calls your name and you can’t tell who it is. Don’t look into the trees at night- keep the blinds closed at night. And whatever you do, don’t run.” He paused. “They like to chase.”

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faithrainee · 7 months

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Miguel would probably baby-proof his lab area so Mayday would be safer playing there when Peter B. leaves her there for Miguel to babysit her. Especially his silly platform, he'd put one of those gates around the edge of it so she wouldn't fall off and everytime someone visited the lab they'd watch the platform lower slow as fuck and then watch Miguel have to unlock and relock the gate.

"No, Mayday, stay over there, I'm just getting my Zuber Eats." And he grabs his food, tips the delivery girl, and reopens the gate to go back on the platform.

Mayday babbles at him, reaching her arms up and making grabby fingers, so of COURSE he has to pick her up, put her on his hip and handfeed her some tater tots he specifically for her as he works. No Lyla doesn't take a million pics and sends them to Peter, whaaat? Why would she ever?

#atsv #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #into the spiderverse #peter b parker #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #mayday parker

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bitchinbarzal · 1 year

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can we get tate and ethan watching mom graduate?

“Shhh, tater tot you gotta be quiet” Ethan hushed her as she babbled.

The one year old turned to him with a scowl at him shushing her.

“You just got the stare from a toddler Eddy” Nick laughs and Ethan rolls his eyes “She’s been doing that a lot”

“You’re fitting right into this dad thing, huh Eddy?”

Ethan blushes, leaning down to kiss the side of Tate’s head “Yeah i guess so”

He bobbed her up and down on his knee as they waited for you to be called. When you finally did, walking across the stage the boys all stood up and cheered.

You could see Ethan pointing to you on the stage, directing Tatum’s eyes.

“Look there’s mommy!”

She gives a gummy smile and babbles “We’re so proud of her, right tater tot?”

After the ceremony, you found them waiting for you in the foyer.

“There’s our smart cookie!” It’s Nick who’s shouting. Tate looks at you from Ethan’s arms and starts flailing around to get to you.

You take her, kissing Ethan in the process “Hi baby girl! Did you see me? You see mommy?”

You look up at Ethan who’s staring at you both now and he says “I’m so proud of you”

You chuckle “I hope so! Data Analyst y/n right here!”

He shakes his head softly, kissing your forehead and he’s holding Tate’s back. His girls in his arms as he says.

“No, anyone can get a degree. What you’ve done this year? You’re amazing”

“Anyone can get a degree. What you’ve done this year? Only you could do that — I’m so proud of you, baby”

#tate’s world

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tatert07s · 1 year

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If you unironically use “ATAB” for your video game activism, you’ve got to be the most obnoxious individual in the world. I just know you have the whitest, pinkest palms on your hands because on the audacity for you to appropriate an actual terminology to describe an incredibly, global oppressive system that actively discriminates against minorities (i.e race/ethnicities, and sexual orientation/gender identities). Please, go the fuck outside, your mages aren’t going anywhere.

#tater babbles

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plantfeed · 5 months

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EDIE & ANDRES — THREAD 001.

location : pink paradise, during the discord mini event.

description : edie visists a strip club for the first time with andres.

featuring : andres @orngejce

𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒎𝒄𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚.

edie wants a milkshake (preferably strawberry), but for some reason the last two bars she's been to have just stared at her blankly, like she's asked them to summon a divine apparition of the holy father, or consecrate the water into wine. pink paradise sounds more promising. pink's in the title, and although it's tucked away, it feels cosy as she makes her way down the neon-lit staircase, like entering a grown up ballpit. it's only when she reaches the basement level, eyes blinking to adjust like two wide fog lights, that she realises she's the only girl wearing clothes. "oh gosh... those are..." perhaps the only naked body of a woman she's ever seen in the flesh, save her own. her astonishment is clear, puckered lips pulsed open like a pink scrunchie wrapped around her face as she turns to the punter closest. "i mean... her 'taters are right out for the world and it's wife to gawk at!"

Andres Bonetti

Really, he had meant to go into Fanny’s, hoping to run into the group that had invited him out that night, and while he was busy following the bustling crowd, he ended up wandering behind them into the pink building. One seedy staircase later he was holding a Mai Tai while a topless girl babbled at him about her degree, feeling the glitter leaving her body and coating his sweater, feeling too guilty to end the dance early, “Honestly a biotech major paired with linguistics is a pretty killer plan,” Andres babbled back at her, cheeks flushed and humming hoarsely, “I definitely couldn’t do it, Elementary Education is high as I’m willing to go,” He laughed eyes drifting when he heard a familiar voice, sighing in relief and panickily reaching into his pockets, “I’ve got to go, but you were great,” He offered her the cash he pulled from his wallet, awkward smile as she took it and gave him a kiss on the cheek, letting out another sigh and quickly going to Edie’s side, “Strip club, Pink Paradise strip club Edie,” He explained to her resting his hand on her back some to guide her over to the bar, “Didn’t you follow the crowd too? I couldn’t get out and before I knew it I was getting a lap dance from the next Surgeon General.”

𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒎𝒄𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚.

still staring blankly, it's only when she feels the press of a hand against her spine that edie blinks awake, brain adjusting like she's buffering. edie imagines that the fat-bellied hamsters running on the treadmill that keep her brain alive are particularly lethargic today, perhaps a little drunk on too many mulled wines. she's never been to a strip club. barely even understands the purpose of them. "am i supposed to look like that?" she asks, slightly dumbfounded. she was raised to believe that they were all created in god's image, but could a god really have created those? perhaps a god with a scalpel and silicone. "everything's so..." her hands grab at the air, lips making a sucking motion, like she's trying to pull air through a straw. "and i don't look like that. i've got wobbly bits. when i sit down, there's bits of me that fold over."

Andres Bonetti

Brows furring, he slid his hand to her side, noting the confused and concerned expression on her face now, “Edie wobbly bits are good,” Andres shrugged his shoulder some, “I like wobbly bits,” He offered her a smile, moving to pull the stool out for her at the bar, waving the bartender over, “Look lets get you something to drink hm? These girls are working anyways, you should try comparing yourself to them, you’re just meant to have fun here, drink and watch them dance and stuff,” Another flush came to his cheeks, “Or if you want, we could leave?”

𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒎𝒄𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚

there's a heat that builds beneath her skin, breath quickening slightly when his hand slides over her side. she's already intensely aware of her body. perhaps that means she's just more attuned to the sensation, the way it sparks something between anxiety and adrenaline in her. it's not an unwelcome gesture, and while it's almost certainly a platonic one, it's a reminder of how long it's been ( months ) since anybody ( since linus ) has held her. cheeks flushed, she's not sure she can talk about his fondness for wobbly bits any more than to simply say "okay," taking the seat that's offered to her, still something of a startled rabbit in her demeanour. "we don't have to leave." in a way, it's inspiring, seeing how these women can transform their bodies into snakes around a pole. she didn't know the body could even bend like that. "i suppose it's not too dissimilar to what i do," she notes, head cocked to one side as she watches a woman shapeshift before her eyes. "people pay to see me walk on tightropes and juggle fire in silly little outfits." compared to andres' job, her work seems almost farcical. but it brings her joy. cheeks pinching up with a grin, she looks up at him with all the admiration of his students. "do you think they do strawberry milkshake?"

Andres Bonetti

“That’s a really good point yeah,” Andres took his place beside her, gaze remaining on her as she watched the dancers with a curious fondness, seeming to truly be appreciating the way they move and contort their bodies, the gentleness of it making him smile some, “You know I’ve been meaning to make it to the circus, when’s the next time they’re opening up the tent for a show?” A strawberry milkshake… he tried to keep himself from making a face at her request, “They could probably do… like a white Russian with strawberry syrup but… not sure if I’d trust drinking milk at a bar Edie,”

𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒎𝒄𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚.

"thursdays, fridays, saturdays, sundays. monday to wednesday we're on rest," edie chirps with a degree of pride. she'd been learning the flyers in anticipation for a moment like this to arise, but so far, other than andres, none of the few friends she's made have really shown an interest in coming to the circus. "what's in a white russian?" edie asks, trying to recall if she's ever had that one. alcohol's still a novel concept to her. until she met linus, all she'd ever drank is consecrated wine at communion. it still goes straight to her head any time she has a drink, and when they were touring, more than not linus had to carry her out of bars, or hold her head in place to keep her upright any time she let the devil's liquor kiss her lips. "why shouldn't i trust the milk? do they get it from bad cows?" she fiddles in the pocket of her star-shaped handbag and passes him a wad of bills. back home, her father had handled all the money. the price of things is still a little foreign to her. "i'll have whatever you're having. is this enough?"

Andres Bonetti

“We’ll expect to see me next Saturday,” Andres teased, not sure when the last time he went to the circus was… maybe when he was a boy, clutched to his mothers dress hem while his older brothers pushed and shoved each other in front of them as the wandered the hay covered paths, he could recall being slightly unnerved at the sight of thr clowns… but Edie, Edie didn’t unnerve him. The laugh bubbles out before he could help it, smiling at her thoughts and humming some, “I just, maybe I’m just being a snob, but let’s skip the milk based drinks yeah?” He offered head shaking when she held the wad of cash out, “you keep it, it’s on me,” he turned his attention back to the bartender, “can we just get a couple of jacks and coke? Some cherries in hers,” Andres rested his arm on the bar as the man walked off to make their drinks, looking back to Edie, “are you enjoying the island?”

𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒎𝒄𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚.

“really? you’ll come?” with a tearful blink of her big brown cow eyes, edie throws herself into his arms, almost knocking andres off his stool in her haste to hug him. her hands bury themselves in the fabric of his sweater, head on his shoulder, body half in his lap before she realises her error in judgement, face flushed as she dismounts from his knee. “sorry. didn’t mean to jump you. i just… got excited is all. haven’t really made that many friends ‘round here yet. ‘cept fawley.” but then again, she’s only been around for ten days, and even edie can’t make friends that fast. “it’s nice!” she responds, eagerly. almost too eagerly. “i ain't never lived by the sea before. it’s special. sometimes if i walk down there in the morning before anybody else is awake, it feels like i’m on the edge of the world. like i could touch god, or something.” but these days, she’s not sure if she even believes in a god, at least not a long-haired one that drives a motorcycle. “it’s mighty different from back home!” but edie supposes that these days the circus is her home.

Andres Bonetti

A breathy laugh left him when Edie flung herself into his arms, his hand resting on the small of her back, “Yeah of course I’ll come, I’d love to see you perform,” Andres answered quickly, flashing her a smile when she pulled back, “It’s alright, I didn’t mind it,” He hadn’t truly realized how touch starved he was, already missing the weight of her on his knee when she settled back on her stool, his hand moving to rest on hers on the bar gently, finding himself unable to keep himself from doing so. He understood the sentiment, since he moved to Marina he always found himself staring out at the sea, he’d seen it sure plenty of times, but something about the way it looked here, to be entirely surrounded by it made his stomach flip, like a constant unease that excited him, “Marina is great yeah, I really love it too, I’m from Jersey so it’s a lot different here than up there.”

#i'll continue this at some point<3 #edie & andres.#edie & andres 001.#⥂ verse. ╱ murderverse.#⥂ edie mccready.╱ threads.

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