Franco's a little freak, but you already knew that, didn't you?
Franco Barbi x Mother Gooseberry
Tags - Mentions of breastfeeding and breast milk, Peeping tom, Voyeurism, Suggestions of Blood/Gore/Body horror, Mommy kink, Infantilism
Masterlist
The benefit of being smaller than everybody else? Franco could get into smaller spaces and remain there for as long as he wanted. Well, he crawled into the body of Honey Island Jenny for fuck’s sake, if that wasn’t some sort of record, he didn’t know what to think.
Boy what he’d give for the chance to bury and nuzzle himself inside Gooseberry, carrying him around in her belly while she chased those little shits around the factory. It would be so warm, sucking on his pacifier as he bounced about, knees together in a little ball.
Yeah… Quite the image he made for himself, trying his best to replicate it at night. The blankets wrapped around him into a cocoon made the fantasy only go so far. They weren’t warm, had no opening to come out of that didn’t lose its shape whenever he moved an inch, and he had to make it himself.
But if Gooseberry ate him and swallowed him whole, he bet being in her belly would be one awesome fucking ride. The only problem was that he wouldn’t see her knockers swinging about the place as she ran, but he’d get a moment’s peace from the feathered prick on her right hand.
Even now, watching her traipse around the bathroom signing, the fucking bird was yapping his jaw clean off.
“The goose is on the loose… The goose is on the loose!” Who knew the fucking this could sing? “Phyllis, remember not to get me wet this time, it wets me right through.”
“Yes daddy, la-la-la… Doo-doo-Doctor-F-U-Double T-E-R Man…” A voice of an angel.
Gooseberry walked about the bathroom, bending over the bath with her voluptuous ass right by the hole in the wall Franco was watching from. He almost gave himself away, whimpering at her big, round bottom right by his face. Would she shove his face between her cheeks if she knew he was there? Sit right down on him and get comfy while he gleefully struggled for breath? Wouldn’t be the worst past time until the assholes upstairs called on him to play house and collect more teeth.
She ran the water until it began steaming and turned towards Franco like she anticipated he’d spy on her. The lining of her shirt front and centre, sitting perfect in his eyeline, she unbuttoned the first part one handed.
“Hygeine is so important, doctor daddy. It reminds me to tell the children to wash up for supper. Clean hands, clean mouth, happy day.” She started singing again, like it was a personal rendition just for Franco in her walls.
“Brush your teeth clean, so I can see you smile.”
Franco adjusted himself and got comfortable, fumbling with his pacifier without looking away and sucking it in anticipation for those big jugs right by his face. And as each button opened, the excitement grew, sucking harder and harder, trying to ignore the duck and think about the little slice of heaven he was ready for.
There it was, the thick, frumpy brazier he always thought she’d wear across her big breasts, pushed up and ready to peek out and say hello. Marone. Franco rubbed his earlobe with one hand, pressing it between his fingers for comfort, the other rubbed his Lupara like an extension of his coiled up body.
Excitable, aroused and extremely cramped. It made for one out of this world memory he’d hold onto for the rest of his life.
“Clean body, clean mouth. No cavities, doctor Futterman. I love when the children listen and behave. It makes me so proud.”
Her titties hung out and drooped as soon as she took the material away, bountiful and swollen melons on her chest, peeking right at him.
“Oh… mommy.” He breathlessly said out of pure awe at the size of her nipples, holding their own weight.
Maybe if Gooseberry stepped just one inch closer, his tongue could fit through the hole for just one taste of that plush skin. He bet they were velvety, softer than the blanket Easterman gave him, maybe getting harder by a rogue breeze or gentle touch of her fingertips when she washed her chest.
But as soon as Franco got a good look, smacking his lips together, she turned. He caught himself just in time not to curse out under his breath, especially seeing the outline of her ass cheeks as she climbed into the tub.
Lots of bubbles, soapy wet body. Bubbly titties and steam sticking to her skin, Franco didn’t even blink.
That’s it, get ‘em under that hot water, make the milk come out better, mommy. Oh… I want a taste. Baby’s parched.
Gooseberry’s mask stayed on, it made Franco think it really couldn’t come off, a second face. How did she clean the damn thing? He didn’t know and didn’t think to ask, but the fucking duck asshole was in the way of his perfect view.
“Ah… What I’d do for a bee’s knees right now, Phyllis… Thinkin’ of bath tubs- the prohibition sucked.”
She tapped her long, slender feet in the water, making little splashes. “The prohi- was that when you were naughty, daddy?”
The duck’s drill whirred a little. “They stopped us drinkin’. If anything, they's were the bad guys for taking our booze and fuckin’ us up the asses.”
She hesitated, and tilted her head at it. “Alcohol is bad for your teeth, doctor-”
It roared right in her face. “I knows what’s bad for your teeth, Phyllis! Shut that hole in your face and get the goose grease out. Clean yourself, you're a mess!”
“Yes, daddy.” She shrunk in the bath and pulled the bar of soap from the side, rubbing all over her arm and chest.
I wanna lather those puppies up and grind my face into them! Oh… so slippery.
Franco wanted to paw at them, knead them with all their worth and suckle for an afternoon until he fell asleep. He bet Gooseberry’s milk would take like a thick strawberry shake, the one from diners made with ice cream and syrup. Real sweet and cool on a hot day.
And if it tasted nothing like that, then he imagined the mommy milk on his tongue would be something along the lines of the good kind of cheese, none of that cheap shit. The expensive kind they put on burgers or something cheese topped. Franco enjoyed something savoury as the next guy, though something sweet was his favourite.
With knockers that size, who the fuck cared?
Franco remained in his little hole for the rest of Gooseberry’s bath, sucking his pacifier and fantasising of all the positions he’d rest his head while he suckled.
He even got a glimpse of her ‘front window’ on her way out as she dried herself. Boy, she could sit on him anywhere with that and he’d thank her for it.
Gooseberry was just that tantalising.
They didn’t call her mother for nothing.
Franco's breath caught in his throat when Gooseberry stopped by the bathroom door, looking to the side by the wall but never at him. "Little man, next time, come sit with me."
u got any hcs for franco barbi x mother gooseberry?
OH BOY DO I!!! If I wasn't off my ADHD meds it would be OVER for you bitches. But unfortunately, you will have to make do with a simple list of what I can remember rn lol
-Franco talks big game behind her back about all the things he'd like to do to her, but when push comes to shove he is absolutely pathetic for her. Man would jump off a building for her if she said so.
-Phyllis thinks he is just a darling little man. She finds him hopelessly adorable. Like a pug dog of a man.
-Dr. Futterman however? He HATES that little fucker. He thinks that Franco is making a mockery of his dear Phyllis. Plus he's fuckin' ugly! She better not even THINK of getting within TEN FEET of that SHITHEAD-
-Despite this, I think Dr. Futterman would come around. In my personal opinion, Franco is more attracted to humiliation and degradation than gender, so I think Dr. Futterman would eventually have his own species of relationship with Franco, given enough time.
-Franco is a real traditional guy. If he had his way, he'd be wining and dining Mother Gooseberry, taking her to every upscale place she'd ever want to go. But there's no upscale restaurants in Sinyala, so he just tries to bring her any fancy things he can find. Including but not limited to: cool rocks, fancy bottles, postcards, origami cranes folded by a reagent, etc. She does not understand why he does this.
-I really like the idea that Franco was a fan of the Mother Gooseberry Hour as a kid. I feel like it would feed into his whole adult baby/mother complex to know her as an adult, which would make him ever more annoyingly attracted to her.
-Also, as confirmed by canon, Franco is a tits guy. And WOAH, does he APPRECIATE the ASSETS she was born with. I think Phyllis is equal parts charmed and revolted by this. Like on one hand, it's nice to feel like a real woman who can be beautiful, even after everything she's been through. On the other hand, gross, stop drooling all over the floor Franco.
-I also headcanon that Phyllis doesn't like to be in a submissive role in a relationship, due to the sexual abuse she suffered as a child (total projection on my part lol). She feels a lot more comfortable around Franco because he doesn't reduce her to a sex object for his pleasure, he more glorifies and deifies her which isn't an experience she's used to. This is also why I don't like to ship her with Leland Coyle personally. No hate to anyone who does, but I feel like the baby man is less intimidating to a survivor of abuse.
Thank you so much for giving me the chance to ramble about my thoughts anon!!! I also ship Franco/Easterman because of the whole thing with his gun. It makes me giggle.
Feel free to send me more asks if you want to, I am full of ideas!! Especially NSFW ideas, as I am an aspiring erotica writer lol
Tags - Mentions of dry nursing, Smut, Depictions of violence/gore/blood, Spanking, Hands free ejaculation, Dry humping, Mommy kink, Masochism, Infantilisation, Derogatory names, Mentions of drugs (Heroin), Mentions of blood
Masterlist
Franco got his hug, cradled in Gooseberry’s lap resting his head on the pillowy set of jugs across her chest, against the better judgement of the fucking duck.
What did he know anyway? He was dead, Franco was very much alive and staring at her knockers, salivating. Yeah, salivating like a dog drooling over a bone, or a pussy cat wanting to make buttery biscuits with its paws. Maybe he could paw at her melons to bring that milk in, a little kitten wanting to feed, bad.
They were right there, untouched. No other man had come here, besides the weirdo duck boy on her hand and some unlucky asshole with a pair of stupid goggles. Franco was almost certain there was no boyfriend, but loaded two extra toothy slugs into his Lupara for good measure.
Ain’t no man walkin’ in here who’s gonna leave with their kneecaps intact. Not after the first one.
“What a naughty little boy.” Gooseberry cradled him, rocked him in her arm, humming to herself.
His first two rounds went into the twitching reagent on the floor, gurgling at the teeth buried in his throat. He could have been Gooseberry’s boyfriend for all he knew, but her reaction to him said otherwise.
“Don’t encourage him. Phyllis!” The duck’s drill groaned in Franco’s direction, but he never gave it the time of day.
“Quit yappin’, baby’s cold, baby’s been a bad boy. Let her tell me off without you shovin’ that powertool in my face. I ain’t no two-by-four.” Franco kicked his feet, pulling out his pacifier and slipping it between his teeth just waiting for her to soothe him.
“You wanna go on me, you little shit? I’ll drill you's two ways to Sunday!” The undead dad roared and did this weird thing where he got up close like he wanted to hurt him, but never did.
Pussy.
“Doctor daddy, can’t we keep him just for a little while? He’s so warm.”
She didn’t move, running her index finger along Franco’s suit in that maternal fashion he adored. The duck ignored her, focused solely on Franco. He did the same, rubbing the length of the Lupara as if it would purr at his fingertips and pulled away the pacifier for a second. He cuddled into Gooseberries chest like he was about to set up camp for the foreseeable future.
“What you say, goes in one ear and out the other, duckie boy.”
The drill grew louder, closer, puppet eyes practically glowing with fake rage he could have laughed at. “You’re just a prick with one good ear-”
The Lupara went off prematurely, gouging the ceiling of the shipping yard office. Frano’s rage was real enough to put the next slug straight through the fucking duck's face. “The fuck you say to me?!”
“Doctor daddy, please!” She pulled him away, and pushed out her chest to keep Franco just far enough out of reach. “He’s been a naughty boy, not a little brat like those other ones. Why not… punish him instead, that way he’ll never do it again.”
“Fuck no, let me at ‘im, Phyllis! I’ll drill ‘im a new asshole and he can drink through that, not around my little girl!
She held him back, fucking ridiculous. “Maybe, I can talk with this little man on my own?”
The metal asshole stopped and sighed, totally frustrated. “You’re murdering y’poor father right through the heart.”
“It does get awfully lonely, daddy. Maybe, just for ten minutes?”
“Likes hell am I gonna leave you here with this runt!”
Could a man not fondle a broad’s tits in peace? She really had to have her daddy here to keep an eye over his precious little blueberry? Franco wasn’t going to knock her up, just get her to knock him about a bit.
He could see it now, suffocating under the weight of those huge bazonga's on his face, praying it was slow and agonising. Marone. Just the thought of his head between her thighs, making a home in there, getting crushed by those things until his own eye popped out of the socket.
Out of this fucking world.
But the duck was pissing him off, the quicker he was latched on to that rack, the better. Franco was partial to the Lupara point blank at that fuck-a-duck face. They didn’t make women like this one anymore, she was built to last and Franco wanted to ride her to his grave. A deep one, big enough to hold two people so even then he could bury his face between her jugs like one of those prairie dogs he’d never seen in person, only heard of.
Bury right in there between those plushy breasts and fall asleep with his pacifier.
Go on, mommy. Tell that freaky feathered fuck to hit the road.
“But daddy, just ten minutes!"
Franco’s patience was wavering. Maybe if he shot the duck off at the wrist, he could wrap his lips at the sight of her mamellas right by his mouth. He smacked his lips just imagining what they looked like under her dress, bouncing after being let free for a fondle.
The duck drilled again in defiance, but miraculously stopped, like the ghost of some asshole dad just left the room. Fucking perfect.
“Ten minutes, daddy. I’ll be good.” She looked down at Franco still cradled in her arm. “You‘ve been such a naughty boy, I’ve never seen a child so foul-mouthed.”
“Yeah…” Franco stifled his laugh under his weighty excitement. “Baby’s been bad. Real bad.”
He wondered what material her skirt was made out of. The softness eased at his fingertips, rubbing it together as a soothing remedy. The pacifier found its way back into his mouth, audibly sucking overtime. If he could just steal one of her skirts somehow, maybe he’d sleep better, snuggling up to it with her earthy scent to put him off to dreamland.
Yeah, he’d sleep real good with the memories on his tongue, hand rubbing his back in the way he always wanted those whores to do, yet they were always too scared or too pathetic. Gooseberry commanded the room, no, she commanded the entire area, shivering right into Franco’s bones like a sexual disease, or heroine through a junkie's needle.
Fuck, he’d sleep so good tonight.
“If children are bad, they need a firm hand. But it's all in love.”
“Oh, mommy. Mommy, I need to be punished.” It excited him, drove his carnal desires to the very edge.
He hadn’t even touched himself, he didn’t need to. Franco’s cock was as hard as a rock, twitching between his legs just begging for attention. But he didn’t move to touch it, he watched Gooseberry study him and take his face in behind her mask. That fucked up mask that never came off, he wondered if it even could, and what rosy colour her cheeks would be if it did come off.
She picked him up, seemingly without issue with one arm, and laid him over her lap. His legs hung off, but the tip of his cock rubbed against her leg.
“Five spanks for the foul language, I have to punish the child so he isn’t a bad influence around the children.”
In that case, Franco would swear around these ‘children’ all day long if it got him over Gooseberry’s knee.
“Punish me, mommy, I can’t take it anymore.” He whimpered, shoving the pacifier back into his mouth just as she delivered the first blow to his backside.
One…
Franco’s cock strained against his pants, reacting to the painful strike across his ass cheeks, the duck on her right hand stared up at him, lifeless. He watched the now dead reagent in the middle of the floor, eyes wide with horror full of buckshot, an unwilling audience.
Two…
This strike was positively firmer this time across both cheeks, making him groan and kick his legs to move himself against her thigh, stimulating his crotch and soon swollen tip of his cock.
“Throwing all those teeth away, Doctor Futterman always says, you should listen to your mommy, keep them clean and they won’t fall out.”
For Gooseberry, Franco was willing to slow down a little on the teeth collecting. A little. Barely. As soon as she was done spanking him, until it gave him the happy ending he was looking for, he was already eyeing up the reagent on the floor for more buckshot.
Three…
Franco got that similar tingling sensation in his balls, if Gooseberry kept this up and hit harder each time, he was sure to blow himself in his pants. An accident, maybe she’d change him after, pull his pants down and clean him real good and wipe his ass while she was down there. Damn, Franco hadn’t thought of that, so focused on the spanks, he never thought of what Gooseberry could do to his ass.
A finger, a thermometer, a quick kiss on his forehead. Letting mommy care for him while he was tired from all the killing and teeth ripping. Would she give him a bath? Wash him up real good and step on his face after with a sick twist of her shoe? Just a sight of those unclothed jugs gave Franco sweet dreams for the rest of his life.
And when she gave it to him, he’d keep coming back. It beat those big grunts he tried sitting on, never warm enough after they died, just stiff and cold. Baby wanted something warm with breath into.
“Spank baby good.” He said, fiddling with the blue ribbon of his pacifier. “So bad…”
Four…
Franco was getting close, his cock rubbed against her leg, practically humping her like a dog, huffing and panting with the silicone teat in his mouth. He sucked so hard, his gums started to bleed, flooding his tastebuds with the metallic red stuff he loved looking at so much.
Being punished and told off made Franco’s hips gyrate without control to tease the end of his cock. No care at the dead body’s eyes which fuelled him to go faster, gripping on to Gooseberry’s leg and digging his gloved hand into the fat of her voluptuous, plushy thigh. He was ready for the release he begged for, no hands, or the pair of puppet eyes. So close, he was so close he could taste it along with the trickling blood in his mouth.
“Mama can’t play if you’re vulgar. I’m only doing this because of my love for you. You’ll learn.”
If she stopped doing this, then Franco didn’t want to learn. Fuck education.
Five…
He groaned and bit the silicone so hard it squeaked between his teeth. His hips shuddered as he came in his clothes, resting his head as close to her as he could, smelling her scent and closing his eyes to ride the high he clawed at. It came out in ropes, filling his crotch with a wetness that would no doubt stain the soothing material of her skirt.
“Mother has you, baby.” She stroked a section of his hair, cooing softly spoken words to lull him off of the pleasure into something else entirely. “It hurts me to punish you, but it’s a firmer kind of love that every mother needs to give.”
“Mommy…” Franco huffed, lounging across her legs like a bed itself. “Baby’s thirsty.”
“A drink?...” He couldn’t tell if she was asking him, or not quite understanding his subtle demand.
Though, before he could tell her he wanted to knead and suck her boobs until he fell asleep, or even grab onto them for dear life, the fucking drill powered up. It roared and bellowed by his ear like he owed it money. Franco Barbi owed no man money, it was he who collected the money from pricks like him.
“What the fuck is goin’ on here?” It darted about like a fucking idiot. ”I leave for five minutes and you’re already tryin’ to moves in?! Get the fuck away from my little girl you pervert!”
Franco would have argued back, but he got what he wanted and had a literal lifetime of material to think about when he was cold at night, cuddling up to the wet skirt he was about to steal.
He still held out on the possibility of being drowned between her breasts though.
I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments and reblogs appreciated 🤗
Ohoh stricklake rot is getting to me... Whatcani say
I think the way I drew Stricklers hand is a little off-putting, but I'm to lazy to redo so WHATEV!! I loove Barbra so so much, I need more content with her she's so awesome♥️♥️♥️ I also wanna draw more Clair hmmm.. in the future...
Enjoy another little (big) stamp dump. This time the theme was... vaguely dark theme, and accidentally computer. Enjoy the little guy at the end, he's there for fun. Soon I'll make originals I swear, but first I gotta show off my collections.
yousharknotpass
pixelskylines
germansingergirl
ellievsbear
