Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Character:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2025-08-19
Words:
1,203
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
19
Kudos:
332
Bookmarks:
21
Hits:
2,079

nosebleed

Summary:

reader is a waitress. she helps franco with his nosebleed. he is smitten. ‪‪❤︎‬

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

She was new. The girl waiting tables at the restaurant. The area was foreign to her. She knew almost nothing of the organized crime situation.

Franco had gotten his face practically smashed in for the fourth time in his life. Punched square in the nose for who knows what reason. Probably just the consequence of being himself.

"Sit him down over here!" A female employee called out, pulling out an empty chair at one of the tables and ushering the injured man over. He was being guided by another man. Most likely a close confidant. Someone involved in the business.

Franco held his face, blood spilling over onto his fingers, muttering curses to himself. Something along the lines of, "I'll fuckin' skin him alive..."

All the words came out like he was spitting venom, eyebrows tightly knitted together in irritation and pain. He was then seated in the chair, groaning.

The new girl watched intently. It was a somewhat visceral scene. She wasn't used to seeing people in that state. All the blood, bruising, and cursing. She kept her distance as she watched it unfolding.

"The fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Franco shouted. He stomped his feet on the ground like a child throwing a tantrum, "...nose won't stop fuckin' bleeding!"

He pulled his hand away from his face to see more blood than before coating his fingers.

"Here, boss, you gotta tilt your head back," The man accompanying him gently instructed, hesitantly placing his hands on Franco's head, urging him to tilt his head back.

Against all her better judgement, the young woman spoke up. She had no idea who this man was. Maybe if she had, she would've just let him follow through with whatever he was being told to do. But she knew nothing of him. He looked a little deformed, even aside from all the fresh wounds. And the words "nose won't stop bleeding" and "tilt your head back" don't belong anywhere near each other unless someone is being told *not* to do that. So her maternal instincts kicked in.

"No!" She rushed over, her sudden exclamation stopping everyone dead in their tracks, "If you do that you might choke on the blood! You need to tilt your head forward and pinch your nose bridge a little..."

Franco felt her delicate hand on the back of his head, a stark contrast to the previous hands that were touching him. Despite being slightly delirious from the beating, the sensation immediately sparked something in him. A feeling of comfort. Warmth spreading in his chest.

She continued rambling, "It could also mess with the clotting, and...swallowing lots of blood can make you nauseous," she turned to the woman that was still standing nearby and spoke with urgency, "Could you get some napkins or a washcloth?"

Both the man and the woman were stunned. Random civilians didn't often go anywhere near Franco. It was jarring to see someone so carelessly interacting with him. Especially a woman.

She simply nodded with wide eyes and ran off to the kitchen.

Franco's buddy seemed to just take a backseat after hearing her whole spiel, thinking it would be better off to let her handle it since she seemed to actually know what she was talking about.

She bent down slightly, making eye contact with him.

"You alright, hun?" She asked softly. "Here, pinch your nose...right there."

She guided his non bloodied hand to his face and had him gently apply pressure to his nose bridge. He didn't resist at all. He was practically in a trance.

Her voice was so damn sweet. Laced with concern and empathy. The way her eyes searched his face for any other ailments. All big and glossy. He felt it deep in his chest...and his loins.

He couldn't muster up anything to say. All he could do was stare, dumbfounded with his hand over his face exactly where she left it.

She gave him her name. The way it rolled off her tongue made him slump back in his chair a little bit more.

Oh, he would've asked her to adopt him right then and there if he were in better condition. What a sick, perverted man.

"I'm sorry for getting involved I just..." She trailed off, subtly smiling bashfully to herself and turning to look at the man who helped escort him into the restaurant.

"I didn't wanna see the situation get any worse."

His associate just nodded at her, arms folded, clearly assessing the fact that she wasn't any kind of threat. Also assessing the way her posterior looked as she was bent over trying to help with Franco's ailments.

"You some kinda nurse?"

Franco's voice made her whip her head back around.

She shook her head a little, "Mm-mm....It's just something I'm a little familiar with...medical things."

She swore she could almost see a faint smirk behind the hand that was still holding onto the bridge of his nose. His eyes trailed down to her shoes. Pretty black kitten heels.

He could already picture himself on the receiving end of the outsole.

"That's too bad. I bet you'd make a good one."

The unexpected compliment caught her off guard, "Oh, thank you, but I really-"

"Here." The other waitress cut her off, holding out a bunch of napkins, eager to hand them off and disappear.

She took them and handed them to Franco, "Here, so you don't have to keep bleeding into your hand..." her voice soft with pity.

"You poor thing," She sighed, looking him over carefully.

Franco's hands itched to grab at her, pull her close, and nestle into her body. He could have. But he didn't. He didn't wanna scare her away.

But if she kept pushing it. If she kept speaking to him with that tone of voice...

"What happened? Did you get into a fight or somethin'?"

The gentle, concerned interrogation. The kind that none of his mothers ever gave to him when he was a little boy.

He couldn't tell if he was dizzied at the way she spoke to him, or from the disturbing amount of blood loss he was suffering.

Franco tried to give an answer, but he couldn't get anything coherent to come out. He just nodded and muttered a tiny, "Yeah..."

She pouted her lower lip out at him, "You boys are all the same. Always fighting." She joked, tilting her head a bit.

He needed this woman, bad.

I know, I know, I know. I'm such a bad boy...Are you mad at me, Mommy?

He almost got a chance to reply to her, but someone from the kitchen called out her name.

"Coming!" She replied, turning her attention back to Franco for a moment, "I gotta go..." She took a pen out of her little apron pocket and stole a napkin from him, writing her phone number down on it and placing it in his lap, "Call me tomorrow, let me know how you're doing, okay?"

He nodded with a dumb mischievous grin hidden underneath a bunch of bloody napkins.

With a smile and a little wink, she disappeared.

Clueless of what she had just set herself up for.

Notes:

ugh. ‪‪❤︎‬ bye.