Frenchie Ofmd X Reader - Blog Posts
Kissing Frenchie's Hands
Frenchie x Reader
Summary - Just kissing Frenchie’s hands.
Warnings - Me making up stories about Frenchie and Frenchie’s past until his backstory is revealed, mentions of a traumatic story from Frenchie’s past
Word Count - 478
A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. Pre-show/in between episodes
I am just head over heels in love with Frenchie and I want to kiss him all over and cherish him.
Not my gif. All credits to the gif maker.
Frenchie’s hands were unusually soft for a pirate and a bard. Of course, there were random scars from pirating and the pads of his fingers were calloused from the strings in his lute, but soft nonetheless. Frenchie even had little pin prick scars from the moments where he would accidentally stab his fingers with a needle while sewing. You loved Frenchie’s hands. They were so unique in your eyes. You wanted to know all of the stories that his hands held.
You brought the hand you were holding up to your face to examine it more closely. There was a thick, slightly jagged white line over the webbing of his thumb. You remembered well the story he told you about how Frenchie had received it.
It was when Frenchie was in the service. A drunk rich woman, who was a guest of the French lord he was working for, was relentlessly flirting with him one evening in her drunken state. The lord didn’t like that, so he “accidently” dropped a knife onto Frenchie’s hand while he was trying to clean the lord’s place at the table and prepare for the next meal to be served. Frenchie hated remembering his time in service and equally you hated learning all of the horrible things that happened to him during that time of his life. He had many nightmares from that time in his life, and you happily comforted him everytime he would wake in a cold sweat. Thankfully, you both were out of your horrible situations and you had each other.
You kissed the scar that held your attention. Then you kissed the pad of each of Frenchie’s fingers and his thumb. Then you kissed his palm. You kissed each of his knuckles. Then you kissed the back of his hand and his prominent scar one last time before nuzzling into his hand. Frenchie watched, adoringly, as you did all of this.
“I love you, Y/n.”
“I love you more, Frenchie.”
“That’s impossible.” Frenchie pulled his hand away from you, only to grab both of your hands and kiss them repeatedly. He was slow and thorough and looked up at you with each kiss he gave you.
“I’m so happy to have you in my life. I don’t know what I would be without you.”
“I could say the same for you, Frenchie.” You manoeuvred yourself into Frenchie’s lap and held his face in your hands, while the pirate you loved circled his arms around your waist. You placed a sweet kiss to Frenchie’s lips, then rested your forehead against his. Both of you happily let the moonlight wash over your intertwined forms as you enjoyed each other’s presence in comfortable silence. All you needed was him and all Frenchie needed was you. And both of you knew that you would do everything to prove that to the other.
Strings and Makeshift Patches
Frenchie x Reader
Summary - Just giving Frenchie a little kiss because he’s cute!
Based On This Request -
Warnings - not that I know of, this is pretty fluffy, a bit of making out towards the end
Word Count - 1355
A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Requested. Pre-show. Mutual pining-ish.
Inspired by Frenchie, our sewing king, and the little patches he has on his overshirt.
Thank you, lovely anon, for requesting! I hope you enjoy this!
Not my gif. All credits to the gif maker.
Frenchie sat cross legged atop the dining table. He was currently contorted in an uncomfortable looking position in order to sew patches over the holes in his faded and paint splotched periwinkle overshirt. He had accidentally ripped a couple of holes in it while transporting a crate of supplies from the storage compartment to the kitchen for Roach, and was determined to fix his overshirt himself instead of leaving it be. Frenchie looked adorable with his mouth pressed into a line in an act of concentration, but the position he was sitting in seemed impractical.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to sew up your shirt when you aren’t wearing it, too, Frenchie?” You asked while looking away briefly from the deck of cards you were playing with.
“Maybe, babe, but I can make sure I like the look of the patches like this.” You said that Frenchie’s thought process made sense, but you only meant that partially so. You still thought that Frenchie looked uncomfortable enough to make the act not worth it. But all in all, you tried to focus on Frenchie’s sewing instead of focusing on his use of the word “babe”.
You had been aboard The Revenge for a couple of weeks now and throughout that time you had grown the closest to Frenchie out of all the people onboard. You noticed his usage of pet names for people, especially the people that he was closest to. So, you tried to not make a big deal out of Frenchie referring to you as ‘babe’ or ‘dear’ or any pet name of a similar vein. However, you couldn’t help but wish that Frenchie would call you a pet name in a romantic context.
“Oh no.” Frenchie exclaimed randomly.
“What? What’s wrong?” You questioned.
“I ran out of thread. I thought I grabbed enough but I might have been a bit over enthusiastic with the border.” He had been, but you chalked it up to Frenchie being attached to his overshirt and wanting to make it wearable for as long as possible.
“I can go grab some more for you.” Frenchie tried to stop you, saying that you didn’t have to do that for him. But you were already up and gone; going to find The Captain and his collection of sewing supplies.
Your trip to The Captain’s quarters took longer than you had anticipated. You had hoped that Captain Stede Bonnet would have been on the deck with Mr. Buttons or in the kitchens with Roach requesting meal plans, but Stede was in his chambers having Lucius transcript his travels. After you interrupted his monologue to Lucius, Stede gladly gave you the materials you needed, but held you up by asking what you were needing the material for. You eventually left The Captain’s quarters with a short but sweet explanation, leaving Lucius silently pleading with you to make an excuse for him. Now, with what you needed at hand, you headed back to where Frenchie remained.
When you returned to the dining room of The Revenge, Frenchie was still sitting cross legged on top of the table. It looked as if he was counting the stitches he sewed into one of the patches. When he finally heard you enter the room, Frenchie smiled brightly up at you, his smile reaching his eyes. You happily handed the pirate the materials he had needed and thanked you.
“Can you help me connect the two strings, pretty please?” You agreed and took the strings Frenchie had held out to you, one of which was still connected to his overshirt. You didn’t know if you were doing it right. You probably wouldn't have cared about proper sewing techniques if you were repairing your own clothing. But this was Frenchie’s overshirt and it had to be perfect.
While you were concentrating on the thread and making sure it was secure, you didn’t notice Frenchie staring at you. He had liked you for a while now. Frenchie had been through a lot in his life. He didn’t know if he believed in love at first sight after everything he had seen, but Frenchie could recognize his deep and immediate attraction to you as soon as he saw you join the crew of The Revenge. He wanted to do something to make his feelings known, but he was worried about the outcome. Because of his status in society, his previous romantic connections and interests ended poorly, but he was a pirate now and anything goes at sea. So, he could rationalise that there was always the possibility of a positive outcome.
“There. I think I got it.” You stated as you finished securing the two strings together.
“Cheers, my dears.” Frenchie took the now connected strings from you. Yours and Frenchie’s hands brushing against each other momentarily, causing the two of you to let out a small gasp under your breast. You don’t know if the pirate heard you, but you definitely heard Frenchie’s gasp at the connection. You looked up from where Frenchie’s hands had touched yours to his face to see his staring at you longingly. Maybe he had heard you.
You quickly sat back down in your seat and returned to playing with your deck of cards in order to avoid making eye contact with Frenchie. Frenchie eventually went back to sewing after a moment of gazing at the embarrassed look of your face. He definitely wanted to tell you how he felt now.
You could only think about how much you wished to make your own feelings known. Despite wanting to keep yourself from growing embarrassed again, you couldn’t help but look up at Frenchie when you thought that he wasn’t looking at you. Every once in a while, though, you would catch Frenchie looking over at you. Causing you to quickly return to idly pretending to be interested in your playing cards, or anything frankly in order to pretend that you weren’t just staring at your friend. Sooner than what you would have wished, though, Frenchie finished up sewing his overshirt.
“So what are your plans now that you finished up your little project?”
“I don’t know. Write a couple of songs. Hang around. There’s not much to do, really.” Frenchie twirled a braid in his hair between his fingers, partially out of nervousness and partially out of need to make his hands useful. He desperately wanted to tell you how he felt now because he now assumed your reciprocation and that made him ecstatic.
“Yeah, The Captain's less prepared for sea than any of us.” You both joked around a bit about the non-piratey atmosphere of the ship for a bit, slightly diffusing the tension that had been in the air. You knew that you cared for Frenchie and he obviously cared about you otherwise the two of you wouldn’t have spent the past weeks getting to know each other. With the concentrated silence and back and forth looks over, you gained a bit of courage to finally make your feelings known.
“I have a thought on what we could do.”
“What would that be, babe?” Frenchie snapped his fingers, excited to hear what you had in mind. You got up from your seat and stood directly in front of where Frenchie was still sitting. You placed your hands on his shoulders, partially to steady yourself and ground your remaining nervousness. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Frenchie’s lips. You lingered close to Frenchie’s face, close enough to bump his nose with yours before pulling back far enough to see Frenchie’s lovesick expression.
“Now, was that a friendly kiss or …something more?” Frenchie fiddled with his hair at the base of his neck, hopeful of your response.
“I would like it to be something more.”
“Good.” Frenchie stated definitively. He smirked and before you could do anything to stop him (not that you would have wanted to), Frenchie pulled you into him and smashed his lips against yours. Once you realised what was happening, you happily reciprocated, leading the two of you to passionately make out on top of the dining table.
Sunlight
Frenchie x Reader
Summary - The Reader wakes up with sun in their eyes.
Warnings - light sensitivity/overstimulation
Word Count - 647
A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. Pre-show/in between episodes. Established relationship.
This is purely self-indulgent because I am really sensitive to light and get overstimulated by it sometimes. Also, I noticed that Frenchie uses his scarf to cover his eyes in the scene at the end of episode 1 and I thought he was cute.
Not my gif. All credits to the gif maker.
The sky began to lighten as the sun rose above the horizon. A soft salty breeze drifted through the air of the early dawn. It was going to be a calming day at sea, it appeared, but you still didn’t like being up this early. You weren’t used to this routine or lifestyle yet. Just as your mind began to wander and think about what your day would be filled with; the sunlight skipped across the sea and shone directly into your eyes. You grumbled, closed your eyes quickly, and shifted to hide your face in Frenchie’s overshirt.
Frenchie had told you many times before to put a cloth over your eyes, if you were to sleep on the deck of The Revenge with him. He had even suggested asking Captain for one of his many sleep masks, which Stede would probably be happy to lend or even give to you. You always made excuses, however, for why you didn’t need something like that. In situations like the one you were in now, you would just hide into Frenchie’s neck or chest to keep from being tormented by the light. And during the day you would try to work below deck until sunset or shield your eyes as much as you possibly could without your duties being inhibited. You didn’t think it was that big on an issue, but was always looking out for you.
Frenchie understood your sensitivity to light. He himself would get overstimulated by the sun and some candlelight sometimes, which is why he always encouraged you to avoid intense sunlight instead of muscling through the sensitivity and then growing overstimulated, tired or even angry. Frenchie also asked you to use the light green scarf that he wore all the time to block out the sun, like he did when he grew overstimulated, but you always refused most times because you didn’t want to take one of his comfort items away from him. You couldn’t help but grow anxious over the idea of Frenchie needing to use his scarf when you were using it. You didn’t want him to suffer at your expense.
You felt Frenchie shift a bit and move you along with him. He was now laying on his side while you laid on his outstretched arm. Frenchie’s shoulder slightly blocked the rising sun from hitting your eyes so intensely. Even with your eyes closed, you were still distracted by the rising sun and the little burning dots of light that would float and circle in your field of vision. Suddenly, you felt a surprisingly soft piece of fabric wrap around your eyes. You couldn’t help but smile knowing that it was Frenchie’s scarf. You lifted up one side of the green cloth to look at the pirate you had grown to love.
“You didn’t have to do that, Frenchie”
“I wanted to, babe. Despite how much I love feeling curl into me, I don’t want you to be blinded. We have a full day at sea ahead of us.” Frenchie readjusted his scarf so it was covering your eyes fully again. And he placed his palm over where he had laid the cloth to make sure you wouldn’t remove his scarf from your eyes again.
“But you need it.”
“You need it more right now. Seeing as you are the one facing the sun. We’ll share it in future.” You were about to protest again, but Frenchie interrupted you with a kiss to the lips. You giggled and smiled and resigned in defeat, letting Frenchie win the scarf discussion. You then felt Frenchie kiss your cheek and then your forehead before he finally pulled you back into his side. Eventually, the two of you settled back into your makeshift bed on the deck of The Revenge and got a few extra minutes of sleep before the next day of sailing began.