(something short and sweet bc i just started snowfall! also kinda my 400 follower special)
you had known franklin’s family pretty well seeing as how his mom and your mom were both really good friends.
you guys were raised to be friends also and for the most part, yall were.
that was until the movie you were watching had gotten boring and he’d looked at you for too long with that stupid smile and pretty brown eyes.
neither of you knew how it happened but, somehow you ended up all over each other. he was so gentle with you. probably because he knew this was new to you.
his hands settled on your hips and his lips found your pulse point causing you to softly moan, “is this okay?” he asked as his nose grazed the curve of your neck.
you nodded and he kept kissing your neck. after a while your lips found his again and you placed your hands on his shoulders.
you were worked up and the fact that he hadn’t been trying to force you to go any further made you want to go further.
you reached down trying to tug at his belt two minutes before ms. saint walked in. you separated looking like a doe in headlights, franklin alike.
“..i just made it home” she muttered in shock mostly.
Summary: While Franklin is out handling business, you decide to run a few errands, a seemingly simple act that quickly escalates into a dangerous encounter, forcing you to confront the harsh realities of his world and the precariousness of your connection to him.
Warnings: Violence, slight cussing, Emotional distress, mature themes, brief mention of drugs. One Shot!
Blue = Internal Monologue
A/N: how. This is my first time posting fanfiction, so please be kind!
The late afternoon sun bled across the sky, painting the familiar streets of South Central in hues of bruised orange and purple. It should have felt like home, but lately, everything felt…off. A nervous flutter tickled my stomach, a familiar ache that always settled in when Franklin was gone.
He’d disappeared again, vanished into the intricate, dangerous world he inhabited, leaving me with that hollow feeling and a task he'd specifically told me to avoid. Stay low, his voice had rumbled against my skin, a warning and a promise all at once. But sometimes, staying low felt impossible.
Sometimes, the need to feel close to him, to his world, was stronger than the fear. I gripped the envelope tighter, the paper whispering between my fingers. It wasn't just about the errand. It was about him. It was about the way he looked at me, like I was both his safe harbor and his greatest weakness. And maybe, just maybe, I was both.
I glanced over my shoulder. The setting sun glinted off the chrome bumper of a car parked across the street. Just shadows. Just shadows, I told myself, a flimsy reassurance against the prickling unease that crept up my spine.
Franklin's absence always amplified my anxiety. He was a force of nature, a whirlwind of charisma and barely-contained ruthlessness, and without him, I felt adrift, vulnerable. Like a kite without its string, tossed about in a sky threatening to turn stormy.
This simple errand, a favor for Mr. Johnson, felt like a reckless step closer to the darkness that clung to Franklin like a second skin.
The corner store was just ahead, a beacon of normalcy in the growing twilight. Mr. Johnson, a kind old man with eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled, would be waiting for the delivery.
It was a small thing, a way to help him out. Franklin wouldn't approve. He'd been clear – no favors, no entanglements. But Mr. Johnson had always been a quiet source of comfort, a reminder of the warmth that still existed in this harsh corner of the world.
I pushed open the door, the cheerful jingle of the bell a jarring contrast to the tension in my chest. Mr. Johnson’s face lit up when he saw me.
“Y/N! You’re a lifesaver, darlin’. I was starting to get worried.”
“No problem, Mr. Johnson,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Just a little something for you.”
I handed him the envelope, and his smile widened. “You’re a good girl, Y/N. Franklin’s lucky to have you.”
His words, meant as a compliment, sent a chill down my spine. Lucky. Was I lucky? Or was I just… a loose end?
I gathered my groceries – milk, bread, a few other things – and stepped back out into the gathering darkness. The streetlights flickered to life, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to mock me.
As I reached my car, a dark sedan slid to a stop beside me. Two men emerged, their faces hard and unreadable. My heart lurched against my ribs. This wasn’t good.
“Y/N,” one of them said, his voice flat and menacing. “We know who you are.”
My breath hitched. They knew. They knew about Franklin. And that meant I was in serious trouble.
“We know you’re Franklin’s girl,” the other one added, his eyes raking over me with a predatory gleam.
My blood ran cold.
“He’s not here,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. “He’s… out of town.”
“That’s what we heard,” the first one said, taking a step closer. “Makes things… easier.”
Easier. The word echoed in my mind, a chilling premonition. Easier to get to me. Easier to send a message to Franklin.
“We just want to talk,” the second one said, but his eyes screamed otherwise.
I knew what they wanted to talk about. Franklin. His business. The money.
I clutched my grocery bag tighter, a pathetic attempt to shield myself. “I don’t know anything,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
One of them grabbed my arm, his grip like a vise. My groceries tumbled to the ground, the carton of milk exploding in a white, spreading stain.
“Don’t play games,” he snarled. “We know you know.”
He shoved me against my car, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. My head slammed against the metal, a jolt of pain shooting through my skull.
“Where is it?” he demanded.
“I… I don’t know,” I stammered, tears stinging my eyes.
He hit me, the force of it sending my head reeling. My lip split, and I tasted blood. The world tilted and blurred.
The world swam before my eyes. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth, a taste I knew all too well. He hit me again, a brutal slap that sent me sprawling onto the cracked pavement. My head smacked against the ground, and a wave of dizziness washed over me. Their voices, distorted and distant, seemed to echo from a nightmare.
“Where’s the money, bitch?”
“Tell us, and this can all be over.”
Money. It always came back to money. Franklin’s money. The lifeblood of his empire, the source of his power, and the constant threat hanging over us like a dark cloud. They thought I knew. They thought I was part of it. But I was just… me. Franklin’s girl. A title that suddenly felt less like a declaration of love and more like a brand, a target on my back.
I tried to push myself up, but my body screamed in protest. Pain throbbed in my head, my lip pulsed, my arm ached where he’d grabbed me. Terror, raw and primal, clawed at my throat. Not just for myself, but for Franklin. What would they do to him if they couldn't get what they wanted from me?
(Flashback – A month ago)
Franklin had been unusually quiet, his gaze distant as he stared out the window of his penthouse. “This life… it’s not for everyone, Y/N,” he’d said, his voice low and grave. “It’s dangerous. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”
“Then don’t,” I’d whispered, my voice trembling. “Get out. Get us out.”
He’d turned to me, his eyes a complex mix of tenderness and something darker, something I couldn't quite decipher. “I can’t,” he’d said simply. “It’s… complicated.”
(End Flashback)
“I don’t know anything,” I whispered, my voice hoarse and broken. “Please… I swear.”
One of them kicked me in the ribs, the force of it sending a jolt of pain through my body. I gasped, struggling for breath. The world tilted precariously, the streetlights blurring into a hazy mess of yellow and white.
“You think we’re stupid?” he sneered. “You think we don’t know who you are to him?”
They knew. They knew I was his weakness. They knew I was the key to getting to him. And in that moment, the terrible truth crashed down on me. Being Franklin’s girl wasn't a privilege. It was a liability.
They continued to badger me, their voices rising, more aggressive. I tried to answer, but my words were jumbled, incoherent. My mind raced with fear, with images of Franklin – his smile, his touch, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world.
Franklin… Where are you? Please, come back. Please, I need you. I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do. I love you. God, Franklin, I love you. And maybe that’s why I’m here. Maybe that’s why I’m willing to risk everything. Because I love you, even knowing the darkness that surrounds you. Even knowing that it could consume me too.
Suddenly, headlights sliced through the darkness, a sleek black car screeching to a halt. My heart leaped in my chest. A fragile spark of hope flickered within me. Two figures emerged. Franklin. And Leon.
Franklin’s face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. His eyes, when they locked on mine, burned with a rage so intense it stole my breath. Leon’s expression was grim, his hand resting on the handle of something concealed beneath his jacket.
“Get the fuck away from her,” Franklin’s voice was low, dangerous, a growl that vibrated through the quiet street.
The two men who had been attacking me turned, their bravado instantly crumbling. They recognized the tone, the unspoken threat that hung heavy in the air.
Franklin moved with a speed that was both terrifying and mesmerizing. He was on them in a flash, a whirlwind of controlled violence. Leon stayed back, his expression chillingly detached.
"You touch her again," Franklin hissed, his voice laced with venom, "and I will fucking kill you. I will kill your families. I will burn everything you have to the ground. Do you understand me?"
The two men nodded frantically, their eyes wide with terror. They knew. They knew who Franklin was. And they knew they had made a terrible, potentially fatal, mistake.
Franklin turned to me, his expression softening slightly, though the fury still simmered beneath the surface. He knelt beside me, his touch gentle as he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face. “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, tears streaming down my face. “I’m okay,” I managed to say, my voice trembling. “You’re here.”
He helped me up, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist. He shot a look at Leon, who nodded and moved towards the two men, his expression suggesting their conversation was far from over. I didn’t need to hear what Leon said to them. The fear in their eyes told the whole story.
Franklin led me to his car, his grip firm but gentle. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel the tension radiating off him, the barely contained rage that threatened to erupt.
At their house, he helped me inside, the silence between us heavy with unspoken emotions. He guided me to the bathroom, his movements careful and deliberate. He sat me on the edge of the tub and began to clean my wounds, his touch surprisingly tender despite the storm raging inside him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice thick with tears. “I messed up. I shouldn’t have gone there.”
He looked at me, his eyes searching mine. “Don’t,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Don’t blame yourself. They’re the ones who messed up. They messed with you.”
He finished cleaning my wounds and began to wrap my arm in a clean bandage. The silence stretched between us, punctuated only by the soft sounds of his movements and my shaky breaths.
“Franklin,” I said softly, “I was so scared.”
He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and pain. He reached out and gently cupped my face in his hands. “I know,” he whispered, his thumbs brushing away the tears still clinging to my lashes. “I know. But I’m here now. I’m here.”
He pulled me close, holding me tight against his chest. I could feel the steady beat of his heart, a comforting rhythm in the chaos of my emotions. I closed my eyes, burying my face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent – a mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely him. I was safe now. At least, for the moment.
He carried me to the living room and gently laid me on the couch. He sat beside me, his hand stroking my hair. “Tell me what happened,” he said, his voice quiet.
I recounted the events of the evening, my voice trembling as I relived the fear and the violence. Franklin listened intently, his expression growing darker with each word. When I finished, he was silent for a long moment.
“They won’t touch you again,” he finally said, his voice low and dangerous. “I promise you that.”
He leaned down and kissed me, a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes of his love and his protectiveness. It was a promise, a reassurance, a silent vow.
Later, as I lay in bed, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease. I knew that Franklin’s world was a dangerous place, and that being connected to him meant being exposed to that danger. But I also knew that I loved him, deeply and irrevocably. And maybe, just maybe, that love was worth the risk. Maybe it was worth facing the darkness together.
Franklin is that toxic ex that won't leave you alone, you're no better. Franklin and the reader are on again off again but for some reason they just don't work every time.
This is for all the girlies who bounce on business, I would fold for Franklin instantly. This man could be my favorite evil ex, idc. Stand on business tho y'all, Franklin is my favorite fictional liar but best believe I stand ten toes down.
Warnings: allusions to smut, drinking, drug dealing, typical Snowfall violence, season 3 Franklin, smoking weed (stay off that booga suga y'all), mentions of death, toxic relationship, Franklin is also pretty possessive, both of y'all are really jealous, reader is described as a crazy bitch, reader was caught in a drive by in the past, mentioned kidnapping
Request are open <3
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A cloud of smoke streamed from my parted lips, the smell of weed blanketing the car. Tasha and Latisha both scoffed at me after my last statement, their disappointment in me as thick as the smoke filling the car.
"You know he's gonna be right back in yo draws come tomorrow after church, stop playing." My eyes rolled before I could stop them. My brain felt fuzzy and the world seemed peaceful in the dead of night. Passing the blunt to Latisha, she took a deep inhale and held her breath.
'Between the Sheets' blared from the cars radio, adding comfort to my addled brain. Comfort and a slight hint of anger. This was one of our songs, that played while we were under the blanket in his back seat.
The car steamed up that night, similar to the smoke filling the car right now. I had an irrational fear that night that we would shake the car so much that it would roll off the hill we were parked on.
That was before he fucked it all up again.
Latisha was wrong. I was done with his bitch ass this time. This time, I was done playing with him, all his bullshit, his hypnotic eyes, the mountain of lies.
"Girl it's okay, no one blames you for giving into Franklin. Brother's fine." Tasha stuck her tongue out teasingly, which prompted a laugh from me.
Perched on the edge of the back seat with Latisha and Tasha sitting in front, I pulled my sweatshirt over my legs and pressed my head against the window. Latisha gave her a playful smack.
"Oh girl watch out before she do you like how she did Ki and them. Remember how she kicked through that bitch screen door?" Latisha laughed and Tasha cackled. I still remembered how hot it was last summer, when I put my foot through Kira's screen door and ran in swinging. Bitch shoulda closed her front door too but her broke ass couldn't afford air conditioning.
Sure, Franklin and I were technically broken up at the time but what does that matter? Especially after Leon rolled up on Delroy, my 'special friend', and Delroy told me to get to stepping the next time I saw his ass. I know Franklin told Leon to do it too. I don't think I gave Leon any reason to purposely make my life harder.
"Hey now that bitch deserved the ass whopping she got, she could fuck with that nigga all she wanted but how you gonna talk shit about me knowing you can't fight? Let's be serious y'all." It was funny, how she swore that Franklin wanted her over me. After I put my foot through Kira's door and caught her by her tracks, Franklin was at my bedroom window that night.
He was in my desk chair ten minutes later, handing me a box of chocolates that he knew were my favorites. Then he was in my bed giving me some deep, slow strokes that should be illegal. Looking deep into my eyes, pressing soft kisses down my neck and whispering apologies in my ear. Promising me that things would be better this time, that he would be better this time.
He hadn't even looked at her ass since.
Maybe he was over there right now. It had been six hours since he told me it was over, that he couldn't deal with my 'controlling self' and I told him to go ahead and kiss my ass.
Controlling, like he didn't have Peaches following me around all day because he had the slightest suspicion that I might've been considering cheating on him. He wouldn't have that problem if he wasn't ducking me out of nowhere and then when I pressed him he thought it was cute to lash out on me and tell me to get the fuck on.
"Look at her ass. Dick has her stuck." Latisha snickered and I snapped my head towards her. A lazy smile spread across my lips. The smoke stung my red eyes, it was a beautiful summer night and I was planning on getting so high I could shake hands with God, I was with my friends just having a great time. Fuck Franklin, fuck everything.
"If you don't leave me alone." I giggled and stretched back. I could feel it now, and wanted nothing more then to enjoy the feel of the seats under my skin.
It was like I was sinking into a wave of comfort and sleep. And before I knew it, I was floating through my dreams.
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"So y'all are over?" Franklin's eyes were burning into the house phone, his eyes willing it to ring. His long arms stretched over the back of the couch, head facing away from the TV the minute something interesting stopped happening. Leon, as always, had doubts, but as long as he stood ten toes behind Franklin, he didn't really care.
The moonlight casted in on Franklin, his eyes lit by the moon and the TV. Jerome and Louie were cuddled on the couch, while Burst City played from the TV.
"Yeah. She was all over me, I couldn't take it." Finally he turned his head back to the TV and stopped trying to force the phone to ring. A loud noise from the movie, amplifies by Jerome's speakers
"You the only nigga I know who'd be mad about a bitch that fine being all over him." With a chuckle, Leon took a drag of his cigarette. Jerome chuckled and Louie rolled her eyes before she smiled. The way she always smiled when she was with Jerome. The way Franklin's girl ex-girl used to grin uncontrollably when she was snuggled into his side.
"Shit, you fuck with her then." Franklin grumbled bitterly, taking an annoyed sip from his coke. He hated knowing that others could see how fine she was. If it were up to him, she'd wear a potato sack and stay in the house. He'd stay in the house with her too, the two of them together forever. But that just wasn't how things worked.
Why the fuck were they talking about her anyways? Franklin broke up with her, Franklin told her to get lost, Franklin was telling himself that it was over this time. Not just for his sake, but for hers.
Would you believe that she brought out the worst in him? Not his fucked up job, not his dad abandoning him and coming back now that he's grown, no. His ex-girlfriend.
She made him jealous, possessive, down right nasty. Nasty in a way that was different from when he would be pushing into her and could feel her nails dragging down from the nape of his neck. Nasty in a way that was just mean.
Yes, they had their highs. When they were the happiest people on Earth, but when they had their lows they were so low that it might have been in Hell.
"Aye man, I ain't mean that. All I'm saying is you two do this every week." The tension now palpable while they all sat in silence.
That wasn't even true. It wasn't every week, more like every three weeks! Usually Franklin fucked things up, usually by getting annoyed at something (work, her, they hadn't been having sex, he was arguing with his mom or Jerome or Louie or Leon, someone hit on her, she wore something sexy and he knew other niggas would like it just as much, he was hangry) and taking it out on her.
But not this time! This time, they had she started the argument when he came by her house late and she asked him where he'd been. When she came at him with the evidence that he let a stripper toss her ass in his face (which he put a stop to quickly) and refused to tell him who told her, then he got mad. Then she was like 'okay but why did you lie' and obviously he couldn't tell her he went to the club for business purposes because then she'd demand to know why it needed to be a strip club.
According to her, it was just about him lying to her. Which made sense or whatever. He even tried explaining she was the only girl for him and that he only wanted her ass in his face. He even tried cupping her chin and making her look him in the eyes, which usually made her weak in the knees. Franklin just wanted to come over, fuck, have a meal and spend some time with his girl but of course he can't just get what he wants.
So naturally Franklin felt caged and decided to tell her it was over.
"Whatever man, I said it's done."
"Alright then, damn." Easing back into the silence, they both sat and watched the TV. Franklin more so stared, his brain focusing instead her.
Inside he felt shaky, weird. Kinda like how he imagined the addicts he sold too felt without his rock.
She got jealous, but it was kinda sexy how mad she got. How crazy she was over him. Mostly she was only mad because he lied. He could go without lying. He never met to hurt her, just avoid the stress of her knowing he was around strippers and having to answer all her questions. But if he told her earlier that he was going and explained to her that it was for work then he could've avoided all of that all together.
Whatever, it was done now.
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"WHOSE AT MY GOD DAMN DOOR?!" It was 7:00 PM, Saturday night and there was a jumping party that needed me on the dance floor. Yet as I slipped in my earrings, my shorts rubbing against my thighs, someone was repeatedly knocking at my front door. Rather loud too.
As I stormed through my apartment the banging got louder. My apartment was filled with warm colors and the radio I picked up from Jerome's ages ago was humming 'Turn Off The Lights' and it put me in the mood to maybe someone over tonight. Fuck someone who wasn't Franklin.
More banging at the door, it wasn't Latisha or Tasha, they'd just use their keys. A sense of dread hit me suddenly like a car hitting a pedestrian. Being Franklin Saint's girlfriend had put me in two drive byes and one almost kidnapping and now there was someone beating down my door.
My hands found the knife I'd used earlier to rip open a package I'd gotten earlier, small remnants of the cut up box scattered on my carpet right under the coffee table in front of my couch.
Slowly I stepped to the door with my heart thudding around in my chest and the music fading away around me and now I just had to open the door. The knocking continued and suddenly my thoughts cut off by my foot thudding into a box.
A box full of shit. A box filled with Franklin's shit that I intended to drive by his place and fling out the window before never seeing him again. The sweatshirt I stole from him last winter, some cash he left here, changes of clothes, some socks, a bracelet he got me and a bunch of other jewelry wrapped carefully to avoid damage, plus some framed pictures of us. I could only hope he took the same care with my stuff.
The way the box smelt of him made me want to just run back to his arms. It was weird, being without him. But I knew it was for the better, my refusal to go back to him unwavering. As long as I stayed far from him.
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Well damn.
There he was standing in her door way towering over her small form. A bunch of flowers, foxgloves and oleander (my favorites he knew that), held in his hand in contrast to her knife which she now knew she could never bring herself to use on him.
He smelt so good that she had to fight the urge to jump in his arms.
Girl don't do it, send him on his way, her brain told her but her heart, like always, wanted to ditch the party and just spend the night laid up with him. Without any of the bullshit, the way things used to be when they could just be happy together.
Her legs on the other hand wanted to split open on their own. His eyes had that effect on her. He could just control her body with a look. What even was it about this nigga, was she that vulnerable to seduction?
Was it his smell? The rich cologne he bought with his new earnings with the slight smell of cigarettes and the night air. Plus the smell of his mommas house. Maybe.
Was it his strong jaw, the dark eyes that tore right through me like the sky being torn open by a gust of wind.
Fuck how the nigga smells, tell him to go. Do NOT let yourself get hypnotized
"You gon let me inside or keep pointing that at me?" That smirk crossed his lips. Damn. I wondered if I had this affect on him? Did I make him weak? Did he miss the sex so bad he was pathetically trying to get himself off every night thinking of that thing I do with my tongue that he likes? Was he damn near humping his mattress without even realizing it? No matter if he was, as sexy as it was to imagine Franklin touching himself to me. He had to go.
With a kiss of my teeth, I extended my arm to block the door way. This nigga could not pass.
"What you want nigga?"
"You."
"You came here to tell jokes? Take your shit and get the fuck on, I got somewhere to be?" A deep chuckle was his response. He had the nerve to laugh, teeth and all?
You can do this, you can do this, tell him to get to stepping
"Yeah I see you going outside looking real good. I just wanted to talk, see if we could get some closure. I promise I'm not gon take all night." He stepped closer, knowing my body would drive me back. Instead I dug myself into the ground, I stepped back then he'd be in my house.
I had to scan him up and down, find some way to even the playing field. Or make him think his seduction skills weren't working but damn they were working.
Remember how he acted, remember the lies, you wanted out
He smiled and looked like the guy I grew up with. The nice mammas boy who would never try to hurt anyone. I knew better, but he looked so...non threatening.
He was standing there, all washed up wearing a black jacket that he knew I loved him in. He held the flowers up in his right hand and knowing that he probably had a gun on him turned me on some how. The danger of being with Franklin always turned me on. Watching him get aggressive with others and knowing in a few hours he'd be taking it out on me.
The music I had playing wasn't helping me not get weak.
I don't know when he got so close that his chest was pressed to mine. He could hear my breathing and probably my heart beat.
Fuck his closure, send him packing
"Take your shit and go." It slipped out as a whisper, a breathless sound.
His face was right in front of mine and I couldn't do anything to stop myself. I should push him out my way and get to that party. Go find some other nigga who couldn't be as fine as Franklin but he would do for now.
"I'm sorry." He whispered against my lips. I could feel basically every part of him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for getting mad. Baby, please. Take me back. I'll do better. I'll stop lying to you. I'm sorry." He was inside now. Pushed through the door, his body against mine and my head spinning.
"What do I have to do to make it up to you baby?"
"I don't believe you. You always do this, you know your not going to change." I whimpered, my eyes shutting. My brain was fogging, an effect Franklin always had on me. But I would be stronger than this. I had too.
"I swear I will." He planted a soft kiss on my neck and I jumped. He was so warm. He tossed the flowers on to the little table I usually throw my keys on when I come in. Both hands ran up and down my arms.
"I promise I'll change. You don't have to pretend you don't want to come back baby, I'll do better this time. Just let me treat you right tonight, I'll start changing right now." More kisses undid me. I needed to tell him off. But the funny thing was, whenever Franklin and I broke up it was like I could only remember the best parts of him.
Not the lashing out, the screaming, the controlling, the random lies, the secrets. Only the gentle moments, where he held my face and gave me soft kisses that chipped away at me. The gifts that would adorn me when we went out, the way he proudly showed me off, the shopping sprees and little weekend trips, even the normal nights we would just sit around with our friends.
Sitting on his lap where I belonged, on whoevers porch as we just talked (and disturbed the peace of the neighborhood) and passed a blunt around and drank. He always made sure I got home safe afterward, my designated driver.
It was weird. Maybe it was feeling him kissing down my neck and him gently caressing me, but the good memories were just rushing to me. Like water smashing into a wall, slowly chipping away from it.
"I'm sorry I got mad at you. I'm sorry for lying, I just didn't want you to worry. I understand that I hurt you by lashing out and I'm gonna work on that. And you know I'm not perfect, just like you not and we both gon have to work on that. But I want to work on us, and I'm going too do whatever it takes. I'm building an empire and I want you to be right there with me when we make it to the top. It wouldn't be right without you." He was staring into my eyes, staring into my soul and heart and making his way back into both.
"Just one more chance. I promise this time I'll be better." I was never gonna hear the end of it this time. Another kiss, another piece of my self control.
"And if I'm not, I'll never bother you again. You have my word." It wasn't like he was all bad all the time. Standing trapped right next to my doorway, the city howling outside I felt the chill of the Summer night air blowing in from my open living room window. Somehow I was able to find it in me to push him off of me, stepping away into the living room putting more distance between us.
"I'm sick of going back and forth with you Franklin. It's constant with you, you lie for no reason and expect me to just forgive you. Why can't you just be straight with me?" He glanced at his feet, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. He looked guilty but I knew no matter how beaten up he looked I knew the next thing out of his mouth would probably be a lie.
"When my dad started coming back around, I couldn't tell my mom the truth. That I was the one who bailed him out that time. And I have to hide shit from people all the time, because I feel like I know better than they do and how news will effect them." He sighed, coming in and placing the flowers on the little side table next to my door. He ran a hand down his face, and I took another cautionary step back.
"You can't decide for me how things will make me feel. It isn't fair. You demand I tell you everything but it just isn't fair." That's bullshit! Yeah, Franklin had it tough growing up. His dad ran out and what not, but that has nothing to do with me!
He stepped closer in two large steps and took my hands in his. He ran his thumbs over my hands and I found myself admiring how big and perfect his hands were holding mine. Franklin really was beautiful and our everything just went together with pure perfection. If only he stopped keeping things from me. My eyes met his and he looked so..sad.
Sympathy overcame me even though I knew his ass didn't deserve it.
"I know. I know and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you. But I'm gonna try and do better this time. Imma give you everything you deserve this time. No more back and forth." Crouching, his forehead touched mine and I saw his eyes closed. He always did this, it was like a hug for him. I closed my eyes too.
"You promise?" It came out a soft whisper, and I could feel relief washing over him in waves.
because “that shit ain’t no real liqua!” Obviously brown is his preference, but if there’s nothing else, or he occasionally feels like it, or if Louie offers it to him, he’ll take a shot of vodka. However, he’ll immediately say, “enough of that shit. Give me some real liqua.”
Louie loves naps and sleeping in.
When it was at her first house with Jerome, on the couch in her own club, sometimes even in her office. She always gets a good nap in. Hell, she’ll schedule a nap into her day if she can. Nothing beats a good nap.
Franklin has a list of his favorite sodas.
Yes Coke is his favorite, but 2-5 on his list is always changing.
He a bsolutely hates Pepsi.
He was ready to go war when Coca-Cola changed the recipe. He was in a bad mood for a good couple months over it. He keeps buying a bottle thinking maybe he’ll like it this time but all it does is piss him off when it still taste’s gross. Someone almost died while saying the wrong thing to him after he took a sip.
He pretends to hate orange soda but doesn’t know why. “It’s refreshing and delightfully citrusy. He likes it. It stays around three and four on his list.” but if anyone asks he’ll deny it and if they catch him drinking it, he makes an excuse as to why he has it.
“The spot around the corner ran out of coke. He was in a rush and grabbed the wrong one.” He will l pretends it’s not that good but drinkable.
Leon prefers Converse over Adiddas
Because they were his dad’s shoe of choice and wearing them makes him feel like his pops is still close to him in some way.
It had been a long time since Jasmine had spoken to Franklin. He had ended up in jail, and she had made the decision to move away, seeking distance from the chaos that had consumed their lives. What brought her back to this neighborhood now? She didn't have a clear answer.
As she continued to walk, lost in thought, she eventually came to a stop in front of Franklin's old house. The memories of their childhood friendship lingered, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity about what had happened here in her absence.
But before she could dwell on it further, she was abruptly interrupted by a group of guys who approached her. One of them questioned, "Aye, who you wit?" Jasmine turned to face them, her curiosity mingling with a hint of apprehension. "Uh, I used to live here. Do you know if someone lives here now?" she inquired, pointing towards the house.
One of the guys responded, "Uh, yeah, someone in there." Another member of the group chimed in with a smirk, "I wouldn't call that shit living," causing the others to chuckle. Jasmine looked at them in confusion before turning her attention back to the house. "Um, thank you," she said politely and continued walking toward the house.
However, as she got closer, it became painfully clear that the house had fallen into disrepair. It looked as though a hurricane had torn through it, a stark contrast to the home filled with memories from her past.
As Jasmine approached the door, a whirlwind of emotions swirled within her. What would she say to Franklin after all these years? What could be said?
Pushing these thoughts aside, she finally mustered the courage to knock on the door. At first, she was met with silence. Her heart raced as she knocked again, and the silence persisted. Growing impatient, she knocked louder this time.
Before she could knock for a third time, a voice from behind startled her. "Visiting him too, huh?" The voice made Jasmine turn around, and there stood Leon. She couldn't help but break into a warm smile. "Leon," she said with a hint of relief in her voice, and they embraced.
As they separated from the hug, Jasmine turned back to the door and knocked once more. With a slight quiver in her voice, she spoke, "Um, Franklin, hey, it's me... Jasmine. A-and Leon is here too." She pressed her ear to the door, listening intently. "Open the door, please!" she implored.
A few suspenseful seconds passed before Jasmine let out a sigh and turned to Leon. But before she could express her disappointment, Franklin finally opened the door, revealing his tattered attire. "Come in, come in," Franklin welcomed them, his arms reaching out to usher them inside. Seeing him in such a state tugged at Jasmine's heartstrings, making her ache for the friend she once knew.
"Franklin looked at his two friends with a sense of caution. "Anybody else outside, watching the house?" he asked, his eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. Leon seemed a bit puzzled and inquired, "Anybody like who?"
"From the city, nіggɑ, who else?" Franklin replied, settling down on the couch. Jasmine, who had joined in, answered, "No, we just saw the notice on the door about the unpaid property tax."
Franklin sighed. "Hell, Um...Five years. You know. Five years I should get... But they on some bullshit. And they're messing with me, 'cause they know who the fսck I am. But it's all good."
He got up, and Jasmine and Leon followed him as he made his way to the kitchen. "What we gonna do is...We gonna go through the back. 'Cause they don't watch the alley. Well, come on, then, nіggɑ! sh¡t," Franklin said before letting out a chuckle.
However, his humor couldn't hide the grim reality of the situation, and it weighed heavily on Jasmine. She couldn't help but shed a tear as Franklin's words sank in. Before anyone could notice, she quickly wiped away her tear and quietly left the house, overwhelmed by the emotions of revisiting a place that had once held so many memories.
Franklin turned to Leon, his laughter ringing out in the room. "So, when you get back?" he asked.
"A little while ago," Leon responded, which only made Franklin laugh harder. "Leon, Leon. Go to Africa, come back, go to Africa, come back again. I'm-a start calling you Yo-Yo, nіggɑ," Franklin joked, his laughter contagious and even bringing a smile to Jasmine's face. "Yo-Yo! That's actually a better nickname than Lil Lee. You gonna be Yo-Yo, mοthеrfսckеr. So, you find what you were looking for out there?"
As they walked back from the backyard, Leon answered, "Yeah."
"Yeah. That's good. Sure as sh¡t ain't gonna find it here," Franklin commented with a tinge of resignation.
Noticing that Jasmine hadn't said much, he turned to her. "What about you, Jazzy?" Franklin referred to her with the special nickname he had given her when they were growing up, and only he was allowed to use it. It was their unique connection.
Jasmine looked at her friends and nodded. "Um, I am finally a nurse. I graduated college, I got my associate's degree and bachelor's," she said, her voice trembling slightly with a mix of pride and hesitation.
Franklin's response was heartwarming. "That's good. That's real good. Shit, now when I get hurt, you can help me," he said, making Jasmine nod in agreement.
As they reached the alleyway, their conversation was interrupted by the sight of a girl using drugs.
Franklin's irritation flared as he confronted the woman. "Tch, what the fսck are you doing?" he snapped, blocking her path. "What? Y'all better not be taking no fսck¡ng sh¡ts back here. Get the fսck gone. I live here," he asserted, causing the woman to flee in a hurry.
With an air of frustration, he turned back to his friends. "See what I mean? shit, last year, two mοthеrfսckеr broke into my house, tried to jack me. Look at that sh¡t. Look at that. I will say, they got the worst of it, though, fսck¡ng with me. sh¡t, that's why Cissy, she-she let me stay in the house. That's... She knew. She's a tricky little b¡tch, that lady."
Jasmine, still curious, pressed further. "When was the last time you saw her?"
"Saw her? You hear what the fսck I just said? Goddamn," he retorted, causing Jasmine to look away, her mind racing with questions and doubts. As they walked, Leon asked, "Where are we going?"
Franklin, ever the tease, couldn't resist poking fun at Leon's relationship. "Sup with Wanda? She finally leave your ass? She go back to her first love?" he quipped.
Leon, with a hint of resignation, replied, "It's a long story."
"She doing great, though. Trying to get into the music business," Leon answered, looking at Franklin.
Franklin, seemingly incredulous, teased back, "You fսcking with me right now."
"No. No," Leon affirmed, causing Franklin to burst into laughter. "Damn. Ah. Everybody got to have a dream," Franklin mused.
"Yeah. One thing I will say, marriage ain't easy," Leon sighed, earning a chuckle from Jasmine.
Franklin couldn't help but share his own relationship woes. "I'll tell you what ain't easy. That bitch Veronique. mοthеrfսckеr bounced like a bad check as soon as the money was gone. She called me once, if you can believe that shit. She ain't tell me where she was, but she did say I had a son. Said she was gonna raise him right. Best schools, better life. Away from America... Break the curse. Said I should take some solace in that. That's what she said: 'Take some solace.' I said, 'b¡tch, I'd take a few days to see my fսck¡ng son.' I don't get it, yall... Women? I don't get it. Sexy chocolate nіggɑ like me... can't keep a b¡tch," he quipped, eliciting laughter from Leon and a sigh from Jasmine.
"I'm sure you'll find someone, Frank," Jasmine offered a reassuring comment. Reflecting on his past actions, Franklin couldn't help but express his guilt. "You know... I should've just stayed with you... I mean, shіt, you were there for everything until I guess I left you for that bіtch." Jasmine didn't know how to respond, so she stayed quiet. Franklin and jasmine were best friends before they were lovers. Though he left her for Veronique she still had love for him. Even now...she still loves him.
Their conversation came to a stop as they encountered a crowd of people with filming equipment. "What the fսck? What the fսck is going on here?" Franklin exclaimed.
Leon informed them, "Heard they're shooting a movie."
Franklin, unimpressed, scoffed, "Oh? Damn. Movie business, huh? Bad fսck¡ng business." He couldn't resist a parting jab, addressing the crew, "Come on. Y'all ain't gonna win no Oscar," before chuckling with his friends.
"Leon's revelation brought a flicker of hope into their conversation. "Hey, so I explored my options, and, um... I started a free legal clinic," he shared, and Jasmine offered him a weak smile.
"Oh, really?" Franklin asked, intrigued.
Leon elaborated, "Yeah. With LAPD arresting folks left and right, and... public defenders being all backed up and sh¡t. First step to giving people freedom is to make sure they literally free, you know?"
Franklin nodded, understanding the importance of their cause. "Uh-huh." Leon continued, "I was wrong, about how bad that Len Bias Law was gonna be for Black folks. It was way worse."
Jasmine couldn't help but shake her head in disappointment, "Yeah, it's like Jim Crow all over again." Franklin chimed in with a cynical perspective, "Yeah, you the nіggɑ trying to help niggas that ain't trying to help themselves."
Jasmine empathized, adding, "I mean, people are going through it."
"I actually came to see you because I could use an extra hand, you too, Jasmine." Leon says extending the offer to his friends. Franklin responded with a nonchalant, "Uh-huh."
"If you want to come by and help, that would be great," Leon suggested as they reached the store. Instead of answering Franklin looks away. "Ah..."
Before going into the store , Franklin turns to his friends." look uh You got like 10 dollars?" Franklin asks makingjasmine dig in her purse and hands him a 20. "A 20? Andrew Jackson oh you are the best." Franklin says happily. "You don't want anything, do you?" Franklin asks.
Jasmine shook her head, and Franklin headed into the store. As he disappeared inside, Jasmine couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Leon, sensing her distress, offered her a comforting hug, as they both shared the pain of seeing Franklin in his current condition, a painful reminder of how their lives had changed.
"I know..." Leon mumbled softly as he continued to embrace her.
Just finished watching Snowfall and damn. Franklins downfall is a sad one.
If Cissy really wanted to save her son, to give him an out she could’ve waited for Teddy to say the password and shot him afterwards. She did it out of selfishness because Teddy lied about Alton.
Talking bout Franklin being her greatest failure meanwhile she’s the reason he’s on the streets now, ending up like the man he never wanted to become like.
