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megamindsecretlair · 5 months ago

Note

Ok but imagine Franklin asking Uncle Jerome for sex advice because he's trying to impress this woman he's interested in. And Jerome tells him how to get her excited, how to touch her, how to make her cum, etc.

And later, Jerome can hear her moaning and the sound of the headboard hitting the wall and he's proud. 🤣

Got Me Daydreamin'

Pairing: Virgin!Franklin Saint x Virgin!Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, fluff, smut. PIV, oral (fem receiving), fingering (female receiving). College Franklin, established friendship. Drug use, alcohol use.

Summary: See Ask. Sharing the same math class, you and Franklin were constantly getting into trouble for laughing and talking so much. You developed a system, passing notes through your notebook. One day, you ask Franklin for a favor and he is only too happy to oblige.

Word Count: 5,831k

AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. Been sitting on that one for a while trying to figure out where I wanted to go with it. This ended up being so damn sweet. I remember getting a bunch of asks for Franklin in like...one night, lmfaoooo. Might be from the same person, who knows. I love you for it. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @logansblackgf @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii @kaaliyahsierra @pinkpantheris @blackelysian @sugrcookiiee @hihellogoodbyebruh @softimgyu @neawarren @harmshake @iv0rysoap @ciaqui @amethyst09 @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @tvchi @avoidthings @twocentuar @sageispunk @missdforever @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout

“Do I need to separate you two?” Mrs. Thorne asked.

Franklin looked up from talking to you and smiled sweetly at the old crone. “No, ma’am,” he said.

You smiled next to him, he could feel it from where he sat. Like rays from the sun warming up the whole classroom. It was a wonder that no one else could feel it. Sense it. You tend to make everything seem brighter, more colorful, or overall just better in general.

Franklin was crushing bad. Which still caught his breath sometimes when he thought of it. At first, you were just another girl in his math class. Beautiful. But clearly way out of his league.

The more you sat beside him, smelling like buttery cake, the more you warmed up and started talking to him. Laughing with him. Hell, you were so damn funny and quick. Your smile was fast, genuine, and you were smart as hell. But his favorite feature on you after your smile had to be your ass.

And you didn’t make it any better wearing those shorts of yours. The shorts stopped mid thigh, but it drove him insane. Waking his dick up every time you entered the room. There were times when he was as hard as a brick and had to stall, looking for an excuse to remain sitting while everyone else got up.

“There’s plenty of time outside of class to talk. In my classroom, you pay attention. Understood?” Mrs. Thorne asked. She peered over her cat-style glasses, lips pursed in irritation.

“Won’t happen again, Mrs. Thorne,” you said, just as sweetly.

Mrs. Thorne hummed and turned back to the chalkboard, wielding it like a weapon as she stabbed at the board, writing out an equation.

Franklin looked over to you and you had a mischievous grin on your face. You reached into your backpack, pulled out a clean notebook, and started writing in it. Franklin was too busy watching you, wondering what you were up to, to notice whatever the hell Mrs. Thorne was on about today.

After another minute, you slid the notebook over to him. He read your pretty handwriting, momentarily distracted by the slope of your letters. He reread the message and tried not to grin.

You: This way is much better. Birdy won’t suspect a thing.

Franklin wrote out his own message back, sliding it to you when finished.

Franklin: You are a genius.

And so it began. You and Franklin tossed this notebook back and forth in class for weeks. Telling jokes, talking about everything under the sun. Franklin looked forward to math class. Dreamt of it. Even while awake. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, uplifting his spirits and made doing his homework actually pleasant. Because he knew that your smart ass would look over it with that adorable smile on your face. The way your nose pinched when you found a well placed error.

He liked when you chided him, sucking your teeth, and telling him that you knew he could do better. For now, you hadn’t caught on that he just liked you explaining things to him. At this point, you were his favorite show, book, and place to be all rolled into one.

During the next class, you sat beside him with a weird look on your face. You were biting your lip and refused to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” Franklin asked, settling into his seat as well and pulling out his math textbook. Students filed into the room as well, talking about their weekend plans and exchanging pager numbers.

You looked around at everyone and shook your head. “What are your plans for the weekend?” You asked and smiled.

He knew you had something on your mind and wished that he could sit and truly talk to you. He wasn’t sure if you’d accept an invite from him to go grab coffee or speak for longer than five minutes before class and a few minutes after.

Franklin shrugged his shoulders. “Probably hang with Leon or Kevin, see what they up to,” Franklin said.

You nodded and smiled. Franklin waited for you to say what you really wanted to say. His heart rate increased, imagining what it could be. Were you going to ask him something important? Like meeting up outside of class? Were you going to suggest studying together? Did you catch him finally, onto his game of intentionally giving the wrong answer? Not knowing was killing him and he wanted to ask.

He also didn’t want to come off as too intense. He had a tendency to take everything seriously, like a dog with a bone that wouldn’t quit. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin this friendship that sprung up between the two of you.

Class started, Franklin’s mind drifted as he paid attention to everything you did. The tap of your blue pen against your paper. The way you bit your nail. Fiddled with your gold hoop earrings.

Midway through class, you slid the notebook you shared over to Franklin. You kept your eyes faced forward, odd for you. Franklin grabbed the notebook, opening it when the old bird turned to the chalkboard, chalk dust on the back of her sweater.

His eyes glazed over as he read your message but he did his best to keep his features calm. He rubbed the tips of his fingers however, leg itching to bounce. He needed an outward release, something to release the pent up anxiety in his veins.

You: Have you ever had sex?

Shit. The hell was he supposed to say? Franklin was a virgin but men didn’t fess up to things like that. He told Kevin and Leon that he lost it back in high school, some random girl he met at the mall. They bought it, pumping his head up, and fessed up to their own hook ups. For sure, they all knew they were full of shit, but what else were they to do?

Franklin swallowed around the huge lump in his throat. The pulsing beat of his heart in his neck as he wrote back to you.

Franklin: Of course, why?

He slid the notebook to you. You looked at his message for a second before you began writing. When done, Franklin took the notebook.

You: I haven’t. Wanna hang Saturday and fix that?

Franklin’s dick twitched. This couldn’t be real. Thank god he was sitting down, because that twitch was turning into a full blown erection, causing his jeans to stretch tight. He licked his lips, trying to think of anything boring. Nothing worked.

With that one sentence, you brought to the surface every filthy, nasty, disgusting thing he’d thought about doing to you. He’s had vivid fantasies of you bouncing on his dick, riding him, arching your back, and the way you’d look when he’d slide in. He’s thought about how you would sound, screaming his name. He’s fucked his hand often enough, picturing it sliding into you. He’s wanted your nails on his back, your toes curling because of him.

Franklin: Can’t wait to show you a good time.

When you received the notebook and read his message, you sighed, finally turning those honeyed brown eyes towards him. You smiled wide, doing a little dance in your seat. Franklin tore off a piece of paper and wrote down Uncle Jerome’s house. No way was he bringing you to his mom’s house. The last thing he needed was his mom coming in, causing a ruckus, or making you feel uncomfortable.

There were too many emotions running through him. He was elated and scared and confused and excited. He needed to figure out what to do. He’d never done this before. He wanted your first time to be special and wonderful. Would you know if he was terrible?

Now, questions multiplied through his mind. Was his dick big enough? Would you like the way he stroked? How would he be able to tell if you came or not? Fuck. He was unsure, panicking, while you went on in the notebook, being extra adorable as you admitted you were nervous but confessed to liking him for some time.

He was distracted, still not over the thought of getting to see you naked. Getting to see you beneath him. He wrote back that he liked you too, liked how smart and sweet you were. He’d never get over the way you smiled at him now. Letting your feelings play out all over your pretty face.

After class, his dick calmed down to not be an issue when he stood up. You patted his hand and smiled at him, promising that you couldn’t wait until Saturday came around. Shit, him neither.

For the next few days, Franklin did all the research he could. He had a few porn mags but what did that really tell him about fucking? He went to the porn store, looking for videos to research. He watched with the volume turned low in his dorm, watching what to do.

He bought a pack of condoms, practicing putting it on so that he wouldn’t seem like a loser in front of you. He’d never survive if you laughed at him for something like that. The thought of it sent him into a fit of hyperventilating. He needed more help. He needed an expert.

Friday night rolled around and Franklin arrived at his uncle’s house. He walked up a few steps, the area quiet for once. There was still the background hood noises, cars passing, faint music, helicopters circling. But it was a still night. Franklin knocked on the screen door.

There was the sound of heavy footsteps and then Jerome’s face came into view. “Nephew!” He exclaimed, a cloud of weed smoke erupting through the screen door. Franklin waved it and smiled.

“Hey, Unc,” he said.

Jerome opened the door wearing a white tank top and black sweatpants. His jheri curl was well intact, shaking with movement as Jerome opened the door. Franklin walked past, inside, where music played and there was an ashtray in the living room. The TV was on to something Franklin couldn’t see.

“Where’s Louie?” Franklin asked, turning around.

Jerome waved his hand. “She down visiting her sister. Said she was getting tired of seeing my face,” Jerome laughed, like he was remembering a private joke.

“Good. I got a favor to ask,” Franklin said.

Jerome laughed, leaning over the couch to get rid of his ashes. “Sounds serious, nephew,” he said. He grabbed the ashtray and his beer from the table and waved Franklin into the dining room. The wood table was large, covered in scattered papers, mail, or random water bottles.

Jerome had the side wooden door open, letting in a subtle breeze through the screen door. Jerome sat down with his ashtray and beer, still chuckling.

“Sort of,” Franklin said. He rubbed his hands on his khaki colored jeans, palms slick with sweat. This was so damn embarrassing. However, he didn’t have any other choice. Who knew where his father was? And if he was around, he wouldn’t ask that mu’fucker a damn thing.

Franklin sat down and blew air out of his mouth, looking down at the table like it held all of the answers. “I need your help, there’s this girl…”

Jerome laughed and smacked the table. “I know that’s right, nephew,” he said and chuckled, taking a deep hit from the joint. He blew out the smoke and the room grew cloudy.

Franklin told his uncle all about you. How you two started talking, how you’ve bonded the past few weeks. How much he thought about you and wanted to make you his. Jerome’s grin grew wider the more Franklin spoke, his eyes getting big from all of the pride pouring out.

When Franklin finished, he rubbed his head. “I done did everything I can think of. But what if it’s not enough?” Franklin asked. Before, he hadn’t thought it would be this serious for him. When he found a girl that he wanted to have sex with, he thought he’d warm up to the idea. That he’d have a girlfriend and went on a few dates first. That he’d get to make out, touching and feeling first before diving in.

“If this her first time, you ain’t gotta worry about all that. She ain’t got shit to compare it to,” Jerome said and chuckled.

“Unc,” Franklin started.

Jerome smiled. “Alright. How much do you like this girl? Like…you want to keep her or this a one-time thing?” Jerome asked.

“What you mean?” Franklin asked.

“There’s a lot of ways to have sex, nephew. It all depends on what you wanna do with this girl. If you just lookin’ to get your dick wet, best not to blow her mind too much. You don’t want her blowing up your pager or callin’ yo momma house looking for you.”

“That can happen?” Franklin asked. He didn’t think there was nuance to sex. He’s had sex education. At the end of the day, wasn’t it just dick in vagina until both sides climaxed? What else was there?

Jerome nodded, taking another pull of his joint and following it up with a swig of beer. “I once had this girl addicted to my dick. Had her ass screaming outside my momma’s house, threatening to throw herself into traffic unless I came outside,” he said. He howled with laughter, staring off to the side as he presumably re-lived that memory.

“What happened?” Franklin asked. He couldn’t imagine you doing something like that, no matter what he did during sex. Did sex really change people like that?

“Cissy told her to do it,” Jerome said and laughed. At Franklin’s expression, Jerome continued laughing and began choking. He coughed and hacked, putting the joint into the ashtray. “The girl was never going to do it. She was just dramatic. Point is, you can have this girl calling you daddy while you tear it up, or you can show her a good time and let her know that you’re the best she’ll probably ever have.”

There wasn’t even a question. “I want her to be mine,” he said. His voice never sounded more sure, more arrogant even. If this went well, he hoped that you’d want to continue doing it. To continue talking to him outside of class. To spend months, years with him. To call you by his last name. He wanted that more than he wanted anything else.

Jerome nodded, picking up his joint. “Are you sure? ‘Cause once you have an attack plan, you can’t be mad at the results,” Jerome said.

Franklin nodded and folded his hands on the table. He looked Jerome in the eye. “Tell me,” he said.

“Alright, now there’s this thing they have called the clit…” Jerome began. He broke it down. Telling Franklin exactly what he needed to do to have you believing that he was an expert. A professional. The type of loving that was going to make you look at him differently.

Franklin craved that. Needed that. He took in Jerome’s wealth of knowledge like a sponge, treating it like the most important class he’d ever take. Jerome reiterated things he’d seen in porn, but he went more in depth about it. Telling Franklin why certain things were done and what effect they’d have on you. Franklin couldn’t believe his ears. It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

Afterward, Franklin thanked Jerome. “And about using your house…?” Franklin asked.

“I’ll get lost tomorrow, nephew. I got you. Clean the sheets when you done. I don’t need Louie thinkin’ it was me,” he said.

“Thanks, Unc.”

Franklin went back to his dorm with thoughts of you on his mind. He was tempted to relieve himself of the ache in his groin as he went to sleep. But he wanted to perform well for you. So he left himself alone and hoped he didn’t cream his pants at his latest wet dream.

Saturday rolled around and Franklin arrived at Jerome’s house too early. He made sure the place was clean and smelled nice, made sure the spare room was free of clothes and trash. He took a shower when he was done, and made sure his teeth were brushed. He couldn’t relax the whole day, checking and rechecking that everything was perfect for you.

Sharply at six, you knocked on the door. Franklin got the record playing working, sweet crooning filling the living room. He went to the door and opened it.

He grinned at your sunshine yellow dress, ties at your shoulders in neat little bows. You smiled shyly at him, coming further inside. He closed and locked the door behind you. “You look beautiful,” he said.

You smiled and grabbed the hem, pulling it away from your thick thighs. “Is it weird I obsessed over what to wear?” You asked.

“Only if it was weird for me too,” he said.

You giggled and shook your head. “I don’t want you think I’m fast or anything,” you said.

Franklin shook his head, gesturing for you to take seat. “I’ll never think that. If you don’t want to anymore, you don’t have to. We can watch TV or go grab some food,” he said.

“No! I want to! I…can’t think of anything else,” you said and smiled. You sat down on the couch and Franklin sat next to you, giving you a healthy amount of space in case you needed it.

“Good,” Franklin said and smiled. He scooted closer and took your hand. “Tell me about your day.”

You laughed. “You don’t want to…?” You asked.

“Let’s get comfortable first,” he said. He stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. He heard the tiny gasp you made, which came back out in a cute sigh. Your shoulders dropped from your ears as you relaxed and began telling him about your day.

How you woke up too early, too sick to eat something. He loved how open you were about what you wanted. That you weren’t ashamed to share these things with him. He knew you were a blunt person, saying what you mean and meaning what you say. Still, it was so rare that people did so that his mind wandered, just enjoying the cadence of your voice.

When you were finished, you were much more relaxed, talking and laughing with him. He moved from stroking your hand to stroking your exposed shoulder. The both of you sat further back on the couch, scooting closer the more you talked.

Franklin’s face got closer to you, leaning in as you continued talking. Your eyes darted from his mouth to his eyes and he felt his heart lurch. It was working. He kinda liked seducing you. It allowed him to catalog every inch of you. Your reactions. He was able to tell that you were interested without even saying a word.

He reached up with his hand, cupping your jaw and bringing your face closer to his. His dick throbbed in his jeans and nothing even happened yet. “I’m going to kiss you,” he said.

You gasped and then grinned, biting your lip. “Okay,” you giggled.

Franklin smiled but took his time, looking into your eyes for as long as he could before he closed them at the last second. He brushed his lips softly against yours, not fully kissing you yet. He waited for a beat, waited for that tiny inhale, before he pressed his lips more firmly. He kissed slowly at first, building up speed as you got into it.

His breaths mingled with yours, your breath fanning across his face, and you gripped onto his shirt, pulling him closer. He went willingly, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. He held you in place and focused only on kissing you. Making out with you. You still smelled like buttery cake fresh out of the oven. He was obsessed.

He pulled back to give you some air. You gasped, chest falling up and down. Franklin kissed your cheek, jaw, and neck, getting closer to the source of the smell. Was it perfume or lotion? Or body wash? Whatever it was, he wanted to buy you a crate of it. He never wanted to smell anything else on you.

He licked over your vein and you gasped, fist tightening against his shirt. He brought his hands down, grabbing and squeezing your thighs. You moaned, sweet music to his ears, and he squeezed some more.

“Want to go lay down?” He asked.

You nodded, staring into his eyes. Jerome was right, you would look at him differently. He wondered if you’d look at him in a new way once he got going, once the clothes came off. He stood up, holding out his hand to you. You smiled, took his hand, and let him pull you up.

He walked around the couch, heading into the small hallway and then into the spare bedroom. He kept it open a crack so that you could hear the music still chiming from the living room.

You sat down on his bed and he sat beside you, returning to kissing you. He placed his hand to your throat, turning your head to the side so that he could go back to smelling your scent and licking your neck. He knew better than to leave a hickey, but fuck, he wanted to. He wanted to mark you. He wanted you to be his already.

“Take off this dress for me,” he whispered against your neck.

You sighed, reaching behind you to grab the zipper. He watched as you did so, impressed with how easily you did so in this position. You stood up and let the dress fall from your shoulders. You didn’t wear a bra underneath, but you did have on cute yellow panties to match your dress.

Franklin hummed in satisfaction and grinned at you. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he remarked.

You rolled your eyes and bit your lip. “Really?” You asked.

Franklin grabbed both of your hands and pulled you to stand between his legs. “I swear. You’re gorgeous,” he said.

He stood up and turned you around so that your back legs hit the bed and he faced forward. He took a condom out of his pocket, tossing it onto the bed. He removed his shirt and his jeans, smirking at you and your reaction as you stared down his body. He stepped out of his jeans, leaving his boxers on and then stepped forward.

“Lay down on your back.” You blinked at him once and then grinned, climbing onto the bed. Watching your ass shake and jiggle as you faced away from him was too much. Too tempting. His dick throbbed painfully, a tent forming in his boxers. He sang something mundane in his mind, anything to stave off the need to cant his hips, humping the air.

You flipped over onto your back, settling down and looking at him. He grinned and knelt on the bed, pushing and adjusting you until he had you where he wanted. He grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and placed it under your head. He grabbed the second pillow and placed it under your hips. You sighed as the pressure was taken off of your back.

He grabbed your panties, pulling them off of your hips. He cooed as he got a little look at your pussy. You had hair and he could see it glisten in the low lighting. He licked his lips. Fuck, you smelled even better down here. A scent wholly unique to you.

“Open them legs up,” he said.

You stared at him questioningly as you followed his command. “What are you…?” You asked.

Franklin grinned as he leaned forward onto his elbows. He watched the emotions play out on your face, the adorable pout in your lips, as you stared at him in confusion. He leaned between your legs and softly blew air across your exposed pussy.

You sighed, moving your hips. Franklin grinned. He teased your slit with his nose, trying to commit all of this to memory. If this was to be his last time between your legs, he wanted the memory to sustain him for years.

He grabbed your thighs and held them open, as he rolled his tongue out and licked up your slit. “Oh shit!” You yelled.

He chuckled, not expecting you to have a filthy mouth. He only found it more wonderful that he got to experience new things with you. Find new things you did every single day. He knew he sounded like a love-sick fool, but you were already so important to him.

Franklin did the same thing to your pussy that he did while making out. He started slowly at first, trying to locate your clit like he truly was an expert. When you twitched and cursed, that’s when he knew he found the right spot. He swirled his tongue in circles, sucking on your clit and eliciting so many sounds from you.

You clutched onto his head, pulling him closer while also trying to push him away. He was relentless, not giving you any slack to escape. He kept your thighs trapped, no matter how hard you pushed to trap his head between your thighs.

You grew wetter, juices spilling down his chin. He lapped all of it up. He couldn’t get enough of the way you tasted. He licked and licked, suckled, and slurped up your juices. Your moans were turning choppy.

The tone of your moans changed, went into a panic mode. “Wait, I don’t think–what is–oh fuck, right there, right there. Don’t stop,” you screamed before you tensed up, thighs pushing against his hands.

You screamed loud, hips bucking, as you came on his tongue. He was wrong. This. This was his favorite. Tasting you as you came. Feeling your clit throb against his tongue. He’d happily drown between your legs. If he could eat you out every day he would. He would pay for the privilege to sit between your thighs and bring you pleasure over and over again.

Franklin came up for air long enough to see your dazed face as you looked up to the ceiling. He chuckled as he returned to your pussy. You groaned and pushed at his head, but he continued. He moved his hand from your thigh to your pussy, getting his fingers instantly soaked in your essence.

He pushed one finger inside and you bucked against him. “Oh, baby, gentle? Please. I know, I know you’re a pro but please,” you moaned.

Franklin smiled, flicking his tongue against your clit. He moved his whole head, moaning into your pussy. His dick was about to explode in his shorts, he ground into the bed. He needed friction in the worst way. But he was determined to hold out. Determined for you to cum at least one more time.

“I got you, baby,” he moaned.

He pushed his finger in and out, mimicking fucking you. Your inner walls began to relax, allowing his finger to keep pumping. He eased a second finger in. You groaned, low and deep, as your hands fisted the blue sheets beneath you.

He could study your reactions for the rest of his life and never get enough. You were so expressive. So pliant beneath his fingers. Shit, if sex was like this, he understood his Uncle’s stories now. He understood now why he and Louie sometimes looked at each other like they wanted to go at it right there, regardless of who was around.

“Oh shit, oh shit. This–ah, so, s’good,” you cried out. Franklin smiled, pleased with himself. Though if you didn’t cum soon, he was worried that he might. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you.

Franklin tried to remember all of the tricks Jerome told him about. Tried to remember that there was something else he could do besides suck on your clit. What was it?

Your pussy clenched around his fingers and then it came to him. He flipped his wrist, curling his fingers in a come hither motion. You exploded once more on his tongue, juices spilling out of you and coated his chin. He moaned, lost in the taste of you. The way your thigh shook against his head. He ground into the bed again, moaning into your pussy.

When you came down, Franklin pulled away from you. There was a long spit chain connecting you two. You had trouble looking at him. But fuck. You were so beautiful like this. Heaving heavy sighs and moans, twitching every so often like you were cooked. He wished he had a polaroid camera so he could capture you like this.

Franklin kissed up your body, taking time to lick on your nipples. You squirmed under him, tiny moans escaping your lips. He looked up to see the tortured bliss on your face. Your lips parted, moaning getting a little louder.

Franklin licked up your essence that transferred from his chin to your nipple. “Still with me?” He asked.

Two tiny dips of your chin. “Oh god, that was…”

Franklin chuckled. He climbed up your body, lining himself up between your legs. You groaned when he spread your legs wider. Groaned again when he pushed his knees up, so that your legs hung on the outside of his thighs.

“I ain’t done with you yet,” he growled in your ear.

“Shit,” you moaned. You chuckled, panting for breath, and then looked back at him. “Damn.”

Franklin smiled, leaning down to kiss you. He couldn’t resist how cute you were. He leaned up on his knees, hunted through the sheets to locate the condom he tossed. He opened the package, pushed down his boxers, and rolled it on exactly as he saw in the videos he watched.

He looked at you, at how wide you looked at his dick. He smiled. “I’ll fit, don’t worry,” he said.

“You can’t read my mind!” You said and giggled. He chuckled, settling back between your thighs.

“We’ll go slow, okay?” He asked.

You nodded, bringing your hands to rub at his shoulders. He leaned on his hands, bringing one to his dick so that he could push into you.

He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose. Fuck. Just the tip and he wanted to slam home. He would never do anything to hurt you though, so he took his time. You squeezed his arm, nails digging in, as he slid in inch by solid inch.

He watched your face. Your mouth tightened in pain, but your eyes were staring up at the ceiling. You had an adorable crease in your forehead as you concentrated. Once he couldn’t move anymore, he stopped so that you could adjust to his size. You squeezed his dick periodically, melting against the feeling of him being inside.

“Okay?” He asked.

You nodded and licked your lips. “I’m okay. Kinda hurts but you can keep going,” you said.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded. “I’m sure.” You smiled at him and brought your lips to his, giving him a smacking kiss. He smiled and continued to kiss you, pulling out and then slowly sliding back in. He repeated this as many times as you needed, before you were crying for him to go faster.

He pushed his hips faster, pushing in and out of you and listening to your cries. Your moans. He paid attention to when you dug your nails in and when you let go. When you dug your nails in, he kept hitting that same spot.

Your eyes flew open, staring at him like he stole something from you. You rocked with the force of his hips.

“Franklin! Franklin!” You moaned.

Shit. Could he make you cum once more before he shot his load? He wanted to cum so badly. His balls were heavy and slapped against your entrance. The wet smack of your pussy was driving him insane. His dick throbbed as you squeezed around him, teeth chattering from all the moaning you were doing.

“Don’t stop Ohhh, baby, don’t stop!” You yelled out.

Little did either of you know, Jerome had to swoop by the house for something. He wasn’t sure if you or Franklin were done or not, but hell, it was his goddamn house. He crept inside though, feeling like an asshole for sneaking around his own spot.

Once inside, he figured there was no use for sneaking. Between his nasty record playing, the headboard banging, and your moaning, Franklin was a good student. Jerome retrieved his extra stash of cash in his room, listening to the way you were moaning out Franklin’s name.

Pride made Jerome puff his chest out, shaking with silent laughter. “Get it nephew,” he chuckled as he left the house and hopped back in the car.

You and Franklin were none the wiser as you yelled in Franklin’s face, eyes wide, and body twitching beneath him. No longer able to play it cool, Franklin came with a vengeance. Sweet relief hit him as he came, as his cum shot out of him and into the condom.

He moaned, collapsing against your neck. That buttery cake smell teased his nostrils and he breathed it in deeply. Your skin was damp with sweat and still, he kissed your neck before sliding out of you.

He was sensitive from cumming, back bowing as he slid all the way out. He squeezed the condom as he took it off, a neat drop of cum inside. He tied it off, throwing it into the nearest trash can.

He snuggled back onto the bed with you, kissing your arm and then your cheek. You yawned and turned to him. “Fuck! Franklin! Damn!” You said comically, making him snort with laughter.

“Was it okay for you?” He asked. He still needed that little bit of validation. He needed to hear you say that you enjoyed it, that he interpreted all of your signs correctly.

“Okay? Franklin, that was intense and weird and fuck, I feel amazing! I,” you said and then bit your lip. You got to your elbows and looked quickly at him. “I want to do it again.”

Franklin chuckled. “I do too. But gon’ need a minute,” he said while he caught his breath. Maybe he needed thirty minutes. He was spent and didn’t know how he was going to recover so soon. To give you more. But damn if he didn’t want to try.

He pulled you closer to him, aligning your head into the crook of his arm. “You know I got you girl,” he said and smiled at the ceiling. He’d try to give you anything you asked for. Whether it be another orgasm, food, the moon, or a pencil. He’d give you anything in the world so long as he got to call you his.

Always more Franklin to love! The Secret Franklin Saint Files

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heartfullofleeches · 5 months ago

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Hey how about Everglades darling x Raccoon yandere 🦝🦝🦝

The trash panda fell in love when the Everglades darling fed them So they wouldn't have eat out of the garbage 🥰🤣��🦝

Raccoon Hybrid Yan still digs through their trash, but now they do it to locate the precious artifacts Everglades Reader throws away-

Equiped with your phone and a backpack full of whatever you might need during your exploration, you step out the front door for another exciting day in your never ending search of the evasive beast known as the twenty foot python. Marching down the steps, loud banging catches your ear from the side of your house where you normally leave your trash bins.

Not again-

Pocketing your phone, you race down the short flight to locate the souce of the banging before they're able to run off. Rotten fish and discarded trash crunch and squelch beneath your feet as the grass of your lawn parts way to the gravel of your driveway. You hate to waste the gifts you've received from those you met in the swamp, but the smell from your kitchen was starting to act like a beacon to your house.

"Hey!"

"Shit-" Dangling legs desperately kick at the sides of your trashcan, puffy tail thrashing as they wipe at the air searching for ground. Wrapping your arms around their waist, you lift them over the side of the bin - releasing them as the smell of decay assaults your nostrils.

Pinching your shirt over the bridge of your nose, you peal a chip bag from their ear. "If you're hungry you can just knock on my front door. What happened to all the food I gave you two nights ago?"

"Oh, that's back at my tent! Don't worry, I'll ration it! I'm not looking for food this time, just things you don't need anymore that you won't mind me taking!"

Looking at their clothing, you notice something familiar about the stains on their shirt.

"Is that the shirt i threw out last night? I've been using it as a rag for weeks."

"Yeah....But since you threw it out I can keep it, right?"

"Get inside the house. We're getting you a bath and some new clothes. Might also need to invest in some locks for my trashcans."

#Everglades Reader #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere oc #yandere hybrid

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tremendouscreationperson · 5 months ago

Text

Logan x Reader pt.4

So some of y'all are gonna not like this part but it's necessary 🤌🏻 hope it's okay I wrote it whilst bleaching/dying my hair 🤣🤣

I have also put some very rough sketches of the X-Men I did on holiday so you can get the vibes on the super suit/costume

<< Part 3 Part 5 >> Masterlist

He was gone, you waited for a moment just in case, but no, he was gone. It was okay, you'd had more time with him than you'd thought possible. The hours were a blessing.

“He isn't going to come back.” Cassandra spoke to your right. “You missed your chance.” She matched over to Pyro and slapped him awake.

You shook your head, she was right. Why were you just staring into space? You had to get a move on.

Quickly picking up Laura's discarded backpack - now full to the brim with Deadpool comics - you moved past them. Better to leave when she's distracted, if you hung on any longer she might remember you all came here to bargain with/kill her.

You looked down from the socket, drained. Using your powers was mentally taxing and, without the help of adrenaline, you didn't know if you could even make yourself a disc to descend. Instead you skidded downwards, holding the skull to climb and landed on your feet. The texture was like bricks. Was that really how a skull felt?

You swivelled to see your family. Laura sprinted as soon as her eyes landed on you, crushing you in a hug. “You stayed.”

“Of course I did.” Your arms held her tighter. “I’d have missed you all too much.”

She pulled back from the hug only to gaze into your eyes with her own glassy ones. “We couldn't see who jumped, did they make it? I thought you'd been eaten.”

“No, I'm here.” You assured her with a teary smile. "They did make it. They're gone."

She quickly burrowed back into your neck as you noticed El make her way towards you both and joined the hug. “That was intense.”

Gambit was next picking you all up as he squeezed tight. “Le’s never do tha’ again.”

Blade had hung back but Laura extended her hand to him and gestured until he held it. He wasn't one for ‘lovey dovey’ displays but he did love you all. He never thought it possible, not after he landed in the Void, but here he was. Clutching Laura's hand and thanking any deity that would listen.

“We better go.” Blade instructed. “Let's see if they got any wheels we can borrow.”

They did in fact have some wheels you could borrow. The five of you all sat in a beaten down Ghost Rider vehicle. It was an old fashioned Chevy and the boot space was perfect for the looted goods you all scrambled to swipe under Cassandra’s nose.

The drive back was strange. Obviously you were no longer in the boot with Logan but even if he was here you'd thought it was odd. You all survived.

There were no casualties.

Not that you were complaining, gosh no, but you were feeling a sense of unease. As though it had all been too easy.

Laura sat between you and Gambit, holding one hand from each of you as she dozed. Blade was driving and El sharpened her sais.

This was so ordinary. Well, your version of ordinary. But seeing actual civilization had thrown you. Because no this wasn't ordinary. This was fucking batshit.

You took a breath and tried to calm the fuck down because yes this was crazy and it wasn't what life should be but it was what it was.

You had to make peace with it.

You'd let Logan and Wade leap into a real life.

If they came back good. If they didn't… well, you were fine with it.

A week later, once word had gotten out that Cassandra Nova had left, the Void seemed calmer. There were less riots - still a large amount - and people seemed to go it alone more. There wasn't the threat of ‘join or die’ so people made peace with scavenging and surviving.

Your group had still tried to help if people needed it but you mostly stayed out of sight. Without a ‘big bad’ to fight there was no longer an ultimate goal which was good but at the same time it made life boring.

You were playing a game of Uno, having found it in a rotting classroom, when an orange rectangle opened behind you. The others were quick to draw their weapons and you craned your neck to see a woman step out.

She had an air of authority with a kind face.

“Y/N L/N, Laura Kinney, Remy Lebeau, Eric Brooks, Elektra Natchios, I am B-15.” She informed you with a pleasant smile. The fact that her name was a letter and a number wasn't lost on you but you were still reeling over the fact that you're fairly sure Blade was called Eric. “I oversee the TVA and we are here on business.”

“TVA?” Gambit raised an eyebrow, lowering his powered up deck.

“The Time Variant Authority. We are the overseers of timelines. Our job is to watch them, nurture them, keep them safe.”

Elektra straightened but didn't hide her weapons. “If you 'oversee our timelines', why are we here?” Her tone was accusatory.

B-15 looked a little embarrassed. “One of our managers, Paradox, had accelerated the time frame on your dying timelines. He is the reason you are here. I am sorry for that but I am here to make amends, we have been in discussions with Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett about your recovery.”

Well, fuck me, he was coming back. You'd practically lost hope after the third day.

“Dying timelines?” Elektra's eyes flickered to Gambit. She knew he didn't remember a time before being here like the rest of you did.

“Timelines, like many organic things do, decay and die. Sometimes it is natural, sometimes it is fabricated and sometimes their 'Anchor Being' dies and they slowly rot.”

“But our timelines, our universes, are dead?” Blade questioned.

“Yes. But we can house you in another. We need to go through the proper paperwork and screenings but I do believe you can all be happy there.”

“People we knew-” You started. “Our friends- I've seen multiple versions of the same person. Our friends won't know us?”

“I can safely say in this universe there is no version of each of you. You would be entering as yourself and, yes, you will have to create friendships and relationships again but I'm sure each of you is up to the task.”

The feeling that this was too good to be true crept up your spine again. “What's the catch?”

“There isn't a catch.” She clasped her hands. “You don't have to come, it's an offer but I won't ask twice.”

The room that had previously been full of laughter and frustrated yelling was now dead silent, each of you considering her words.

“Do you want to go?” You asked Laura.

Her face betrayed no emotions. “I will if you want to.”

“It might be very different then this, then what you grew up with. You might not like it.” You didn't want to steer her any way but you wanted her to be sure.

“As long as we're together.” Her eyes flashed around the table.

El nodded. “I'm game.”

“Are there blood suckers in that world?” Blade asked B-15.

“There are Vampires, yes. There are also a few Lycans.”

That baffled you. No fucking way was there Vampires. “Then I'm ready to kick some Vamp ass.”

“I dunno.” Gambit shook his head. “I feel like I wa’ born ‘ere. Wha’ if there no room for me there?”

“Of course there's room.” El placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don't stay here, this place is horrid.”

He gave an uneasy look but did eventually nod.

“Right.” B-15 smiled. “Let's go.”

She gave you five minutes to collect your things and meet her at the rectangle. It was a little sad to realise five years worth of memories could be boiled down to a water bottle, Uno cards, a few knives, some art you and the girls created and your photo of you and your husband.

There was no point taking your clothes, they were tattered and stained, you weren't even sure the super suit you currently had on was clean enough for the 'new universe'.

B-15 walked through the portal when you all agreed it was time and Blade followed. Laura and you were next and finally El led Gambit.

You were struck by nostalgia. Walking through from a hot country to an airconned airport slapped you in the face. Memories of your honeymoon dancing across your mind. Was this wrong?

Was being with him insulting his memory?

You scanned the room. It was a tacky beige corridor with a set of brown doors, each door had a friendly face waiting with a clipboard.

“Right, so this is the boring part.” B-15 tried to joke. “I will need you all to partner up and answer some questions.”

“Wait’re minute.” Gambit ceased Elektra’s movements. “Wha’ if they kill us?”

“We won't kill you.” B-15 made a face.

“You are separating us.” El folded her arms.

B-15 sighed and plastered the professional smile back on. “If we wanted you dead we would've left you in the Void. This is part of the process, unfortunately it involves asking a lot of questions and to save time we thought to free up some extra agents, who are all very busy, mind you.”

Laura was the first to move, she gave a curt nod, pulled her backpack tighter against her spine and strode right to the end of the corridor. The lady she met was small and unassuming but she greeted Laura with a friendly hello.

You were next, always following after her, and found yourself beside a man. He was tall and waved awkwardly.

The man led you into what was clearly an interrogation room. There was a definitely double sided mirror on the wall reflecting the dark oak table and chairs that sat directly in the centre.

“Right,” the man said, taking a seat. “I am here to fill you in on this universe and fill out this questionnaire to determine whether or not you are fit to join it.”

You eyed his clipboard. “How long will this take?”

“Time works differently in the TVA.” He shrugged and began the explanation, which felt as though it lasted three whole days.

This universe was much the same as yours except the X-Men hadn't picked you up. There was a Jean and a Charles and a Rogue, etc however their version of Logan died which was beginning to kill off the timeline. Paradox had offered Wade the opportunity to hop over and he learnt the truth causing everything that had happened to happen. In order to secure all five of your places the TVA had to create some ‘micro-adjustments’ to certain parts of this universe. This was completely new territory so it did take some time to set up events and try to create anchor spots.

The X-Men were formed however they were now operational in the year 2024 and they worked side by side with the Avengers. There were many names and many dates and many places that Y-23 told you and you could barely catch up.

“So there's Avengers and Guardians and X-Men and there's still villains? Isn't it overkill?” You finished your lemonade, placing the plastic cup on the table by your messy notepad. You'd created a mini conspiracy board, trying to piece together all the information he was throwing at you.

“There are more heroes than you could ever imagine but that just brings the threat of violence higher.” He shrugged.

“And B-15 said that there were Vampires and Lycans.”

“In a world full of Mutants are you really surprised?”

“But a mutation is different from a species of Vampire, no?”

Y-23 thought about it but shook his head. “No it isn't. It's simple evolution.”

This was starting to feel like a Charles Xavier lecture.

“This universe isn't a part of what was once called the Sacred Timeline, this is a wild, thriving, new and exciting thing. This has never been done before.” He tried to reassure you.

"Meaning it's an experiment.” You muttered. “I'm game for it, I'm just scared.”

“Well, you have answered all of my questions swimmingly.” He gave you two thumbs up.

“You haven't asked any questions.”

“The questions are more for me than for you.”

This was starting to feel like a really bad idea. “I'm confused.”

“Don't be, the next step is wardrobe. Can't have you going to a new universe in…" He looked you up and down. "..that.”

You stepped out of the tailors with a spring in your step. They had provided actual clothes but being in a brand new suit was bliss. They'd even provided weapons! The suit was beautiful. It was mainly purple, with a purple ‘x’ on your chest on top of black fabric. The black fabric was angular, causing a triangle shape underneath the ‘x’ and then carrying on down from your armpits to your ankles. The purple was on the front and the back connecting from your chest via the ‘x’ to your shoulders. Your spine had a delicately placed holster for two knives.

This was quite possibly the most powerful you had felt, despite being unable to actually conjure your forcefields. Y-23 had told you there was no magic in the TVA and that got you both into a large debate on whether or not you had magic. You were a mutant, you weren't magic! Gambit toed the line between mutant and magic better than anyone so you wondered how he was doing.

El and Blade were in the main room you were being led to. The room consisted of more brown furniture - desks and chairs - but had many old-school TVs on the far wall. Each screen held either a series of lines or a person. You were quick to zero in on Iron-Man, his iconic suit was blasting at several enemies. He was one of the biggest heroes in your world and the most recognised. You literally couldn't imagine Tony in another suit, another mask. He wouldn't look right even in a different colour, say green for example.

“That's Punisher.” El pointed to a gruff man, with a dusty white skull on his chest. He was mean looking but you had the feeling he was probably good as gold when needed.

“Whistler.” Blade nodded to another gruff man. He was older and definitely played by his own rules.

You watched the row of moving heroes. “So we have to just drop in and say hi, we know you in another universe?”

“H-1 told me I would say what I wanted.” El gave you a confused shrug. “that doesn't exactly clarify anything, what if I tell Matt and Frank and they don't- what if that means they don't want anything to do with me?”

“Precisely.” Blade agreed as Gambit walked into the room. “I will need Whistler's help. I can't fuck that up.”

“A’least I can' destroy wha’ weren't there.” Gambit smugly grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We all look ‘mazing by’t’way.”

Yes. You all did. Blade was wearing all black. A protective vest on top of a long sleeve and leather trousers. His outfit was swallowed by his leather coat. Weapons were under and over the coat, you could see all sorts of knives and daggers and even a crucifix dangled from his belt. He had a new pair of sunglasses, which he seemed very pleased about.

Elektra was wearing a bright red outfit, you assumed her Void outfit started off as this colour but she stained it to be safer. Her chest was now unexposed and she had gloves on. Her trousers were still there but on top she had an overlaying split skirt. The material was softer than the bodysuit, it matched the scarf which covered the lower part of her face.

Gambit looked much the same. His outfit was perfect. The only thing different about this one was there were no knicks and dents. He also wielded a staff.

Laura was yet to show her face. Something that didn't worry you but didn't not worry you.

“So where are we living?” You questioned. “I used to live in the X-Mansion but Y-23 said Charles was around but he now operates in 2024. So in my head he must be very different.”

“It seems like that's true for all our friends.” Blade’s eyes hadn't left the screens.

Gambit strode to the screens and gazed intently at each person. “Surely, they couldn' be too different. If it's the same person an’all.”

“Different circumstances, different upbringings.” El countered.

“That's Magneto.” You pointed to Erik. He was talking to Charles, drinking a cup of tea. It was infuriating because they were this civilised as enemies so you couldn't even tell if they were friends. “He was a concentration camp survivor. If he's about now, did that happen? Is he evil?”

“He looks pretty friendly with Charles.” Elektra cocked her head.

“They always were.” You huffed. “This will be really difficult won't it?”

Blade’s head swivelled in your direction. “Adjusting always is.”

Fuck how was he just effortless cool?

The door reopened, B-15 and Laura came through. She was gorgeous. They had dressed her in a yellow suit, with black trim much like yours. The suit had gloves and shoes which had special slots for her claws. But the icing on the cake was her cowl. She wore the famous Wolverine cowl and she looked glorious.

“Woah!” Gambit cheered. “You look li’ him!”

She did. She really looked like Logan.

“You look amazing, sweetie.” El grinned wide as Laura held one elbow in embarrassment.

“Thank you.” She wore a shy smile.

Blade clapped her back and couldn't help but nod.

“I can't believe it. You really- you look like- you look good.” You stuttered through the sentence.

She, thankfully, waved you off and turned to the screens. “Who are they?”

“Heroes in the 'new universe'.” Blade smirked. “They'll need our help.”

B-15 cleared her throat and you all looked over. She was standing in front of a freshly opened ‘timedoor’. “This is it.” She stepped to the right. “Through here is a collection of Earth's Mightiest Heroes. They will greet and assess you.”

Oh great, more assessment.

Laura, again, was the first of you to make a move. She confidently marched through the door, ready for this to be over with.

El was next, followed by Gambit, Blade and finally you.

You entered a white room. It was grand and outlandishly ‘modern’ - sparse. There were walls that were made entirely by window planes and the sunlight shone warmly. There was a silver, angular table and six beings were seated at it.

These were the ‘illuminati’. Y-23 had explained that a member of each super team created the illuminati, an omnipotent organisation. They controlled the world.

Iron-Man was there, creasing a ridiculously expensive suit, as well as Doctor Strange - the Sorcerer Supreme - Mr Fantastic - the smartest man alive - Namor - the King of Atlantis - Blackbolt - the Ruler of Attilan - and… oh my god. That was Charles!

The negotiation wasn't long. Charles took a look into each of your minds and declared that you and B-15 were all telling the truth. Then they revealed a set of apartments that they had brought for you to settle into normality in. You were allowed to leave them once you had settled and you had to come back every month for therapy "monitoring".

Stark handed you all a bank card and told you there was a limit to them. They also informed you that if you were needed to defend Earth they would call upon you.

Blade was under extra surveillance as he was a Daywalker. Reed had been able to recreate Whistler's serum to suppress the bloodlust but they were still taking precautions.

Doctor Strange placed a spell on each of you to track your whereabouts but other than that they let you go.

“The idiots are outside.” Stark used a thumb to point over his shoulder. Blackbolt smiled, his shoulders shaking in a silent chuckle.

“They haven't stopped pestering.” Namor rolled his eyes. “You must be integral.”

“We are just ourselves. We were cursed to live in that Void for years, for no apparent reason other than a cocky bastard's ego.” Elektra held her head high, watching the men she addressed like a hawk.

Charles adjusted his chair and gave you a sincere grin. “You may venture out, we do hope you find solace here.”

Part 5

@geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @melissa-ashe @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @ravenmedows @vulgarfuckinvirgo77

The sketches, be kind pls

#logan howlett #logan x reader #logan xmen #logan 2017 #logan #james logan howlett #wolverine x men #wolverine #the wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine

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alexbkrieger13 · 8 months ago

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📸: Jada

#🤣 the hello kitty backpack #kate martin #jada gyamfi #wbb #wnba #iowa wbb #las vegas aces

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slutsareteacherstoo · 1 month ago

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I Hope Part 3 - Terry Richmond x Black OC

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

(I gotta get better at these tags, suggestions welcome!)

Summary: Terry finds himself a change of scenery to after the events of Rebel Ridge

Warnings/Things of Note: I made him cry 😭🤣 (idk i just feel like that’s important; THE MAN IS GRIEVING!!!)

Word count: 3K+ (3,093)

Author’s Note: Thank you for your patience. After I made my last post I was like lemme try and polish it, but then I added more and then i fell asleep. Been fighting sleep tryna finish this part. I dont like how this part ends because it doesn’t have all the descriptions I wanted but it’s part 3 complete and onto part 3. im also trying to not let myself not sharing anything because Imma be holding on it to it for who knows how long cuz life is beating my butt😵‍💫

So canonically, Terry was born in 1992. And they wrapped up filming in July 2022. A lot of folks have been using 30 for Terry’s age since thats how old Aaron is. And so i was like okay cuz in my mind this takes place a few months after Rebel Ridge and so i used the time period to my advantage and make it an important part of the story

So we are throwing it back a bit in time to start at the beginning of their story. I was rereading it like oh shit damn i did do something frfr but we gotta go chronologic for this to work.

It’s kinda proofread but i be missing words when i type (also its 2:30 in the morning so idk its probably mistakes in there) Comments and critiques are welcome 🤗

don’t do too much tho🌚 cuz apparently yall think you can talk to people anyhow on this internet.

Anyways. Enjoy. ☺️

Fall 2022

Terry was making his way to the library. He needed a place to charge his phone and to think before heading to his final destination to meet her. Sun shining, skin glistening with sweat and pedaling hard to the tune of metal, he focused on where he was going. And what his next steps would be.

He wanted something different. Something better. He was trying to be better. Someone new. He’d been out of the military for almost 5 years now. And for the past 2, he’d been trying to shed that skin. To cut those ties and be someone new. A man and not a machine.

It’s why he found himself not at home but more than 2000 miles away from it. Away from what happened some months ago. The grief he was holding was too much. The very much preventable death of his favorite cousin. The future he envisioned for the both of them and what was to come instead. The loss of camaraderie and brotherhood of his fellow Marines while also knowing he needed to get out while he still could.

With his desired destination now in full view, he eased his pace a bit, preparing to slow down and eventually stop. The music in his ears was coming to a crescendo when he finally got off of his bike. He pulled his blue backpack for the lock and began the short walk to the bike locker. He hoisted it upward to fit in the rack with the other bikes.

After closing the locker, he decided to take a swig of water while looking at the landscape before him. Body turned to face the direction he’d previously came from. He was taking in the urban landscape, a concrete jungle lined with palm trees. A different view from the country back home. After taking the moment to center himself, Terry decided to enter the library.

He was making his way through the sliding doors, being met with the building’s cool air immediately. And when the song he was listening to faded, a different melody came through but it wasn’t from his phone. It was someone speaking. A smooth and gentle voice that resonated with Terry strongly. The person was saying something about frozen food. He took his buds out, ear by ear, to see where the voice was coming from. Hearing it in fullness and clarity, the feeling of resonance grew inside of him. Almost like recognition.

“So when we’re shopping for food, it can seem difficult to try and eat healthier. The fresh fruits and veggies seem to be more expensive than other items. So it makes sense that we want to go for what’s cheaper. Especially if we have mouths to feed,” said the voice.

A chorus of agreement in yeses, yups, and mhmms came from the direction of the voice.

“That’s why I like to get some of mine from the freezer.”

The chorus sounded again in wonder, confusion and intrigue. Terry’s interest was piqued too. Since he was going to start figuring out all this for himself again, he might as well listen. He finally looked and faced his body in the group’s direction, standing straight with hands crossed in front of him at attention. And she had it. The group’s conductor captivated him immediately. He didn’t know why but it felt important.

Her hair was in low puff and covered by a magenta bandanna. Translucent lavender glasses were the gateway to deep, dark brown cat eyes, lined in black. Terry couldn’t help but be drawn in by their allure. Thin, gold oversized hoops framed her face and gave warmth to her deep brown skin. The rest of it was covered by a white mask with light blue straps.

That actually gave him pause. Was he supposed to be wearing one? Maybe he missed a sign, distracted by the captivating conductor. Performing a quick scan, he hadn’t seen one, nor many other patrons wearing them as well. He’d spotted maybe 4 or 5 people outside the seated group and conductor. Some wore thin, black and light blue ones. Others wore more sturdy-looking ones? People had them in different colors—white, black, pink green. Maybe he could ask someone for one or why they were still wearing them.

Terry was dedicated to listening. He really was. She was talking to these folks about trying to eat good while stretching a dollar. Especially because he was gonna be staying in this expensive ass place for a minute. He was taking in all the details. Including the woman’s orange crochet cardigan and the white ribbed shirt stretched over her large chest. The white shirt was tucked into black yoga pants, waistband showcasing her soft, round belly. At a certain point, she’d put her hand on her hip; the orange cardigan behind her elbow now showing her wide set hips and full thighs that clung to the fabric. The rest of the material flared out at her knees over white light brown running shoes.

Terry heard something about freezing cooked rice. Something something starch profile. But it was the woman’s that had him at attention. He couldn’t see behind her but…he was NOT supposed to be checking out this random stranger in a random place. Being captivated by a masked maiden or whatever, this was neither the time nor place but damn she was everything.

Terry had thought these thoughts were all in his head, until the library worker behind him cleared their throat loudly for the audience of the one and only Terry Richmond. He was blushing with embarrassment and mortification, turning to meet the worker behind him. He smiled nervously and hoped the apology in his eyes came through. So much for trying to better man.

“I’m sorry about that. Is there a place I can charge my phone,” he asked while adjusting his backpack.

The worker pointed in the opposite direction of Savannah and her group. “You can go over there.” The worker was wearing a thin, black mask so he couldn’t see the bottom half of their face. But the expression in their eyes made it clear that he could actually go to hell, needed to keep it pushing and do so expeditiously. “Thank you,” Terry peered down at the worker’s badge to see their name, “Casey,” and made his way to get some juice for his phone.

Terry found an empty spot at a desk, back towards the wall and face towards the rest of the library. He could see the place with a much wider vantage point, but the conductor from earlier now out of his range. He ought to feel ashamed of himself and he did. Terry shook his head and sighed. He took a few calming breaths. In and out. In and out. Feeling a bit more comfortable, he pulls out his phone and charger, plugging it into the wall. He unlocks his phone to look at the address saved in his phone for the hundredth time. As if he hadn’t memorized it by heart. One of his safe spaces. Being with her. Figuring out what he’s going to say to her and how everything will work when he sees her again for the first time since the funeral.

He plugs in the library’s address to calculate the distance between the two of them. It was only 37 minutes. Not too bad surprisingly. Although, that might change whenever his phone got to 100 percent. His auntie had told him to be wary about the traffic. That he should overestimate at least 30 minutes to 1 hour for wherever he wanted to go, because you never knew how far you’d be set back and you never wanted to tempt fate.

He couldn’t wait to see her again. It’d only been 3 months since Mike’s funeral. A couple more since the life altering events of Shelby Springs.

— - - -

The navigation on his phone alerted Terry that his auntie’s house was coming up soon on the right. He decided to stop the bike and walk with it to the front door. The closer he got to the familiar grey house, the more he

felt the dam of emotions begin give. He walked the bike up the driveway and set it between the garage door and the big truck. Stopping in front of the red door, he drew in a few deep breaths. He was trying to steady his nerves. Terry didn’t want to break down in front of the woman’s steps. At least not in public, he didn’t want to embarrass the woman. When felt ready enough, he rapped 4 times into the hollow of the white door.

Terry heard movement from the other side, and then the clicking of locks. The door opened to reveal a woman with golden brown skin and salt-and-pepper curls. She was wearing a green blouse with wide-legged white pants and brown strappy sandals. Her eye color matched Terry’s green-blue-grey. There was no mistaking that he and Taylor Richmond were cut from the same cloth. Upon seeing her, he hugged Taylor immediately. Terry was lost in the feeling of her, the smell of her—a signature brown sugar and cinnamon. It reminded him that this was a safe space. That he could be himself here—no questions, no judgement; no putting him on a pedestal, calling him a hero; no pity and no blame from others who weren’t there.

Her nephew didn’t even let her get a word out. Taylor only let out a yelp of surprise before embracing her nephew back and chuckling. His hold on her was tight. Good lord, this boy, she thought. When she heard the sob that ripped through Terry though…oh Lord, this boy. She pulled back slightly to get a look at him. His eyes were a sea of sorrow and ache. Even in this vulnerable state, she sensed relief in him letting it out. His frame was still slightly bowed from embracing hers. She held his face in her hands.

“Well, hello to you too. If you missed me that bad, you should’ve told me to pick you up at the airport,” she said with a raised brow and wiped his tears with her thumbs. That made Terry chuckle.

“Hi, Auntie,” he said, “And I’m sorry. I didn’t want to put you out.”

“Terry, you’re literally staying in my house for God knows how long. And you’re my nephew. I’m not braving that traffic to the airport for just anybody,” Taylor said with a furrowed brow.

Terry turned his head from his auntie so he’d have space to roll his eyes, mostly at himself. Taylor caught him though. She lightly tapped him in the center of his chest with the back of her freshly manicured hands, bangles ringing in unison.

“Now, you stop all that and get in here,” Taylor said in a mocking tone.

“Yes, ma’am,” Terry obliged with a few nods, wiping at his eyes again for good measure and tugged on his backpack straps.

He followed his aunt and crossed the threshold of her home, making sure to remove his shoes before he ventured further and placed his backpack down. Taylor was making her way to the kitchen, where he guessed she was earlier before announcing his arrival. Terry took a moment to admire some of the living room. It had a grey sectional with a maroon throw blanket draped across its back. The walls were decorated with photos of his family over the years, his auntie and uncle in different places around the world, a photo of him and Mike as kids playing in the front yard caught his eye. He walked toward the picture and reached up for it. He ghosted his hand over the frame and glass and stared at it in awe and remembrance. Terry felt his aunt’s gaze on him before she spoke.

“I remember that summer clear as day. You two were a menace with those water balloons,” Taylor said, the sounds of wooden spatula hitting the edge of a pot rang through the space.

Terry looked over his shoulder at his aunt, a look of disbelief with a hint of mischief behind it.

“I wouldn’t really say menace,” he said, trailing off a bit.

“Please, the neighbors gave me and your uncle hell over it,” Taylor exclaimed, pointing the spatula at Terry through the view space of the breakfast bar and upper cabinets, “especially because you got a lot of the other kids involved in that scheme. An entire summer, you two planned that out,” Taylor said shaking her head, while returning some spices to the cabinet.

“Well, you told us to make friends and that’s exactly what we did!” Terry said with a laugh, quickly turning back to the wall to return the frame. The laugh left a smile that brought wrinkles to the edges of his eyes. Taylor was happy to see it. It was a genuine one. And she missed seeing it on her nephew’s face.

Taylor playfully rolled her eyes and gestured for Terry to sit counter.

“Come over here and wash up. I know you’re hungry.”

Terry bounced over to his aunt, joining her in the kitchen and washing his hands. He reached up and across for plates and utensils from muscle memory. Terry waited for his aunt to make her plate to then make his own (she wouldn’t let him when he offered). He opened the fridge for 2 bottles of water, and balanced them with his plate and their utensils. He then went to join her at the dining table.

After a quick prayer over the food, the two dug in. Terry groaned in satisfaction and appreciation. He missed good food like this. He could cook himself, but a big part that made the food good was that his Auntie Taylor put her heart and soul into the food she made; and did every time but he felt and knew she made this specifically for him.

“Thank you, Auntie. For the food and letting me stay here with you for a while,” Terry said graciously.

“Of course, baby. It’s nothing at all. It’ll be nice to have another person ‘round here,” Taylor said with her fork in hand, using it to emphasize the space they were in. “And besides, I’m not gonna be the only one in that kitchen. All them years working with Mr. Liu and Ken, I know you got some good meals in that brain of yours. And you’ll also be buying groceries. Lord knows the last time you were here, you almost ate us out of house and home.”

“Okay. So, rent and groceries. I can do that,” Terry agreed.

“No, I don’t need your money for rent. You keep that.” Taylor said firmly

Terry stared his aunt down, but Taylor Elise Richmond was better. So Terry stood down.

“Yes, ma’am.” he said lowly, scratching the back of his neck. He hadn’t said it under his breath, only accepting his aunt at her word. She was a reasonable woman but a staredown with her would always be a losing battle, a lesson he’d learned spending many summers here in her home.

“Now, you’ll stay in the backhouse. I put fresh sheets and towels down for you,” Taylor began. “You can enter it through the gate by the driveway. It’s got everything over there, except washer and dryer.” She stood from the table and grabbed a set of keys from the counter. “These are yours. Please do not lose them.” Terry nodded at her.

“Hmm…let’s see what else am I forgetting?” Taylor said tapping her pointing index finger against her chin. “I can’t think of anything else right,” Taylor added as she turned head to the kitchen clock.

“Oh shoot,” Taylor exclaimed. “I gotta go drop a plate of food to my neighbor.”

“Here, let me do it. I’ll clear the table and make the plate,” Terry offered after getting out of his chair and began do what he said. “I know you did a lot, preparing everything for me when I got here. So I got it.”

Taylor sighed at herself mostly. Her nephew was a persistent and she was a bit tired.

“Okay,” she relented, leaning against the counter with her hands up in mock surrender. Taylor watched as Terry put the leftover food in a plastic Tupperware container. He removed the pots and pants from the stove and placed them in the sink to soak.

Terry rounded the corner to meet his aunt at the counter. He picked the keys up.

“So, which way am I going?” he asked her.

“Just right across. It’ll be the house with the red flower decorations,” Taylor responded.

“Thank you,”

“No, thank you.”

Terry headed to the front door with the food in hand. He set it down quickly on the entry table to put on his shoes.

“Oh, one more thing,” Taylor went to meet him up front. She reached for the first drawer of the plastic chest nestled under the table and pulled. Returning to a neutral position, she placed a black face mask on the lid.

Terry glanced down at the item.

“They sick over there or something?”

“No. Well, something like that. It’s just better for her, when we go over there.”

Terry nodded and put the mask on. Taylor unlocked the door for him and gestured to his delivery destination across the street.

“I’ll be back real soon,” Terry said, kissing his aunt on the cheek.

Now on the sidewalk, he checked both sides of the street for traffic before cutting across. He spotted the house with the red flower directions and knocked on the door 3 times. He heard a voice call out, “Coming!”. Terry was tapping his thumbs on the top of the container when he realized he forgot the poor neighbor’s name. His aunt had told him but it slipped from his short-term memory. When the lock clicked, he resolved he’d ask the nice, older lady.

The door opened and he went to introduce himself but he was stopped in his tracks.

“Hi,” the woman said. “You must be Terry?”

Terry nodded, “Yes, how’d you know that?”

“Your aunt. She said a nephew was staying over, that and your eyes. You two are definitely the same. Thank you for bringing this over.” the woman said. “And my name is Savannah,” she added, holding her hand out for a handshake.

It wasn’t just any woman. It was his conductor from the library earlier today. And now he knew her name.

Thanks for reading! Until next time😇

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Big big shoutouts to @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @earthchica @theereina @brattyfics @uzumaki-rebellion @sweettea-and-honeybutter @mymindisneverhere yall are fantastic your writing has shown me that i can push myself and im capable of writing more and like get in my craft frfr recently 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

#slutsareteacherstoo #atiya writes #terry x savannah #terry richmond #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black!oc #terry richmond fic #terry richmond fanfiction #terry richmond x black oc #rebel ridge fics

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