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#francis mosses x y/n
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HI HI!!!! I HAVE A REQUEST FOR FRANCIS MOSSES THE MILKMAN
howzabout something where he’s getting up and ready for work? he’s visibly exhausted and pushing himself, so you try convincing him to call in sick for today and rest. he insists he’s fine, so after some back and forth, you’re dragging his ass back into the bed with you. you maybe call up his work to tell him he’s sick or something, and by the time you’re getting back into bed, he’s already half asleep. once you’re fully situated, he cuddled closer to you and falls asleep easily, you following not long after
A/n: He looks like he needs to sleep for a year.
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"​Francis Mosses! Get in bed now!"
Dropping his shoulders, the man gave you a weak smile as he went to reach for his hat. "I have to go to work."
Frowning, you slipped out of the bed smoothing out your nightwear for a moment as you then made your way over to your husband. Grabbing his arm you then tugged him towards the bed. "You need to sleep, you're over working yourself. You're going to get sick."
Not having the energy to argue with you, the man placed his hat back on the rack nodding his head leaning into your touch. "Yes dear." Biting back a yawn, Francis slipped away then into the bedroom only to collapse on the bed.
Nodding your head, you hummed making your way to the kitchen to grab the phone. Taking a deep breath you quickly dialed up his place of work to tell him that he will not be in for the nexts few days due to being sick.
It might have been a little lie but you knew how much sleep that Francis needed. Once done you made your way back to the room only to find your husband half asleep struggling to take his shirt off.
"Let me help you." You muttered sitting next to the man, slumping against you. His head rested on your shoulder as he started to fall asleep. Now back in his sleepwear, Francis let himself curl into your body enjoying the feel of your fingers running through his hair.
Smiling, you watched him fall asleep though your eyes started to get heavy and soon you were asleep in his arms as Francis clung to you.
Maybe finally the man could actually relax.
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pinguwrites · 25 days
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𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔' 𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆 ⸻ Chapter One
series masterlist. next chapter
𝒑𝙖𝒊𝙧𝒊𝙣𝒈 | francis mosses x reader
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 1.5k
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Warnings: none
A/N: I promise it'll get more exciting later lol
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The elevator dinged, and your heart raced. It was dark out, and so the lobby was dimmed — that blue hue that came right before the sun’s rising. After peeking a small look to the side, you quickly went back to the newspaper you were reading, as if you hadn’t noticed the sound at all. Though you didn’t need to hear or see to know who it was. No one else in Sama Place got up this early, except perhaps for you. It was you and Francis Mosses, every day alone at five in the morning. Perfect, wasn’t it?
“Mornin’,” he said, tipping his hat slightly. It was white, with the words “MILKMAN” etched onto the front. If anything, that added detail made him look even more handsome — uniformed, well-put-together, with just a hint of authority. Everything you liked. 
“Good morning, Francis,” you greeted, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. Placing the newspaper aside, you focused your attention on him, but when he approached you, he took it between his fingers and flipped to the page you were at. 
“Crossword? It’s a bit early for that,” he mused, eyeing all the columns and rows you filled in. It was a hard one, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Besides, what else were you supposed to do, stare at the wall waiting to say ‘hi’ to the next person who came by?
“I like puzzles, they get me thinking . . . you know, you should do something like this, too.” Francis furrowed his eyebrows, just slightly. “Not puzzles, necessarily. But a hobby.”
It just occurred to you at this very moment that he probably did have a hobby, but as someone who was just a doorwoman, you weren't privy to that information.
“I’m sure you do,” you added with a chuckle. “It’s only that I never see you doing anything but work. You’re so tired all the time. How much effort does being a milkman really require?”
He bit his lower lip. “More than you think. I used to get up at one.”
The idea that whatever company he was working for forced him to do this made you upset. Francis deserved nothing but freedom and long vacations and waking up to brunch, not whatever coffee he drank in the morning to get himself going. 
“One?” you repeated, absolutely stunned. “Well, I’m glad you managed to change your shift. Most bosses I know aren’t flexible with that sort of stuff.”
“I was actually doing fine with my original hours. I just changed them because . . .”
“Because what?”
He thought for a moment, his cheeks dusted pink. “Wanted to enjoy the world a little. Can’t very well do that if you have to sleep at seven in the afternoon.” He paused. “I have to go, I’ll see you later tonight, ma’am.”
“Alright. Have a nice day, sir.”
You watched as he left, a longing gaze. In your mind, you imagined spending time with him, whether it be to see a movie or just walk around the city. You found that highly unlikely, though. Mostly because you could never bring yourself to ask him, and never thought he would ever ask you. 
+++
“Really?” you said, a little disappointed. “I’d hate to see you go.”
Dr. William Afton shrugged, a grin across his lips. “I mean, it’s quite the modern idea, don’t you think? I think there ought to be more family restaurants out there. And with my engineering background, I think I’m just the right man to create something fun for children.”
“Your idea sounds like a science fiction novel,” you admitted, “but I like it. What does Mia think?”
“Oh, I had to convince her a little, but in the end, she’ll do as I say. Besides, we’re not moving very far. Just closer to the suburbs.”
You nodded. “I’ll miss you. Make sure to stop by again when you can.”
He agreed and went on his way to finish moving the rest of his belongings to his car. It was silly to want him to stay, but that was how it felt here. Everyone knew everyone, it was like a family. You’d made more friends here than you ever did before. Change wasn’t something you enjoyed.
+++
The day had passed by quickly. You took your lunch break and then went straight back to work. You made a few calls to make sure things were in order. If anything was wrong with the plumbing or if the wallpaper had chipped — things like that — it was your responsibility to fix it. Taking calls for potential renters, being in general a polite and pleasant person, it all came with your job. 
It was unusual for a woman to hold this kind of position. Women barely worked at all. Most were housewives or teachers or secretaries. The fact that you even got this job at all was a miracle. And the fact that the people in this building were so pleasant was a blessing.
After your father died you thought everything was over. He left you a house, a small, one-story building with a nice lawn and a small backyard. It was closed off from the rest of the street, the way he liked it. Away from others, with his own peace. You supposed that trait passed down to you. Other than a simple conversation, you preferred to be by yourself rather than out with a large group of friends, partying at risqué clubs. Besides, even if you liked that kind of stuff, your father would never have approved. 
You were dependent on him, right till the very end. Though you graduated from college, you didn’t know how to get a loan from a bank, drive a car, or even do your taxes. The easiest thing to do was to find a husband, but it was just so difficult. When you saw that sign outside of Sama saying ‘HIRING NOW’ you knew that was where you had to go. A new start. New opportunity. For the first time, you could make your own money, support yourself, and live the life you want.
You sighed, thinking about everything as you leaned back in your chair. The weather was hot today, so you set the fan beside your desk on. It was blowing through your hair, the coolness brushing against your skin with relief. It made your skirt rumple at the ends, but whenever it did that you just straightened it out, pulling it over your knees once more. 
“Hey,” a voice said behind you. 
Startled, you sat up straight, only to realize it was just Anastacha, the girl from the second floor. She lived with her mom, who was a cook at a restaurant, but apparently trying to make it as a chef. She had pigtails in her hair like always and was wearing a simple plaid dress. 
“You scared me,” you said, tone both playful and scolding. “Don’t do that again.”
“Sorry,” she apologized, but she didn’t seem very sorry. “I need help with my homework. Mom says you had a good education, and that if I ever needed help I could just come to you.”
You smiled warmly. “Sure. Pull up that chair over there, and I’ll see what I can do.”
You looked through the folder. It was just basic algebra, nothing too difficult. You remembered doing this in middle school. For the next ten minutes, you both read through each problem and solved it together. She had a lot of questions — annoying ones — but it was fine. She was just a kid, and you were happy to help.
Just as you were explaining the last part to her, the front door opened. 
It was Francis. 
Distracted, you glanced up and down his body. Was it odd that you found him the most beautiful man ever? His long, Roman nose, and his smooth, pale skin. The way the veins in his hands flexed every time he moved them, the light blue dress shirt that hugged his slim, muscled arms, and that dark, tousled hair, widow’s peak dipped in the middle of his forehead.
He passed by you with a short nod. It almost hurt that he didn’t bother to stay longer, but you could see the bags under his eyes and his sluggish movements. He was tired. And to be fair, so were you.
When the elevator door closed, Anastacha exclaimed, “Oh, he likes you!”
“Shh!” You didn’t need people hearing that. “He does not. Do you want to finish this or not?”
“He does,” she insisted with a giggle. “You saw the way he looked at you?”
“You can’t determine things based on a single look.”
“Yes, I can. Mr. Mosses is nice, but he kind of just ignores everyone. He doesn’t do that with you.”
The thought that Francis may like you was an intoxicating one. He was just a man, one that you never exchanged many words with, yet he managed to make you feel all sorts of ways. Was it possible that Anastacha was right? That he really did like you?
“I bet you like him, too.”
You glared at her. You did not need Anastacha spreading rumors about how you were in love with the milkman, however true that may be.
“No, I don’t. Focus.” You pointed the pencil back at her homework. “Now, in order to find x, you have to subtract . . . . . .”
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Taglist: @Meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008
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zentraex · 1 month
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Summary: You made a lot mistakes in your new job, but do you regret them? Nope, not a bit. But who can blame you for it? If you wouldn't have done them, you never would have met this pretty boy.
Remember: German Grammar is a lot different then English grammar. I apologize for any mistakes.
Pairing: Francis Mosses (doppelganger) x gn! Reader
(A/N): I usually write for mha, but this men dominates my fyp on TikTok and I can't stop grinning like an idiot about all this fanarts. My men is just too attractive for his own good. Nevertheless, Tumblr has too few fanfictions for him, so I had to do it myself. Still, I am not that proud about how it turned out. It certainly sounded better in my head, but I don't care. One shitty fanficion is better than none.
Art by @asteriscks on TikTok
This game is not mine, but Ignacio Alvarado. I also used phrases from the game.
Mistakes? Yes, but no regrets.
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It's been a week since you started working for D.D.D as a doorman. 
You can remember your first day so well, it could have been yesterday. 
Well... probably because your life is constantly at stake. 
_
It started with a mistake that you ended up here. It was completely unexpected since you always made sure, that you sent your rent to the right account. 
Surely no one can blame you for a small typo, right?
Well, your landlord, who kept pounding on your door until you woke up, surely did.
"What?" you asked, annoyed, as you opened the door.
"When do you plan to finally pay your bill? The date has already been overdue for two weeks!" he complains. 
What?
"Sorry, but I've already transferred my money to you."
"Well, I didn't get anything. Do you still have the receipt for the transfer?"
"No..."
You already knew what that meant: double payment.
"Look, today, I'll transfer it to your account again, okay? If it doesn't work this time, it's not my fault."
You were about to close the door, but your landlord had other plans when he held the door open with his foot.
 "No no no. You will give me the money now. I don’t trust you. Why would you transfer it to me today, when it should have happened two weeks ago. You will give it to me now."
Your eyes widened. 
Now?
"But I don't have that much money in my hand? Who's got that?"
"Then I'll have to kick you out for now. But don't worry, no one is going to buy an apartment here anytime soon, so you can move right back in as soon as you give me the money."
Staring stunned at his smiling face you could have sworn you were about to hit him. 
"The keys?" 
With watery eyes, you grabbed your keys, placed them in his outstretched hand, and frowned.
What kind of person had such sharp fingernails as he does?  
You were sure that he could definitely have stabbed someone with them.
Thank God, I didn't hit him. 
"When do you plan to give me the money? I've heard that all banks closed today. Some kind of holiday among them, I've heard."
What!?
How were you going to get through the day today? You intentionally left everything in your apartment since you were so sure that you could have given the money to your landlord in a matter of minutes. 
"You’re telling me this now!?"
"If you had paid, you wouldn’t need to know." 
That filthy bastard.
No matter how angry you were at that moment, your panic was overweighting.  
What were you going to do now? 
Shit.
"Man, I really wouldn't want to be in your situation...", the landlord murmured.
Fuck the nails- This guy deserves a punch.
Just as you raised your fist, he speaks again.
"But maybe we can agree on something.
Then you stopped. 
"The D.D.D., which is responsible for the safety of all residents in this area, is looking for doormans. Ours has recently...quitted, which is why we are urgently looking for one. They pay three times the amount of your rent in a week. If you take the job, I can overlook your sloppiness this time."
Three times your rent? In a week? And for what? To sit there and check a few documents. You'd be crazy not to take the offer! 
"Okay. I'll do it. Where can I apply?"
"Don't worry, I'll sort it out for you. Tomorrow, you can start”
_
Looking back, it should have been clear to you that something was wrong. Starting with the sudden his sudden threat, the fingernails and this stupid story about the holiday of the banks. 
Maybe it was just because you were too panicked at that moment to think rationally.
But let’s be true here: when are you thinking rationally? If you did, you would certainly have quitted after your first day.
_
"Welcome and congratulations on your new job."
After watching the short video, a man in the yellow suit came to your window. You are so shocked that you can’t even answer.
I'm going to die today!
After all, you know it yourself: you're too gullible for the job. There's no chance you'll unmask a doppelganger who copies someone well.
“As you could see on the introductory film, your job is to verify the entry of the neighbors of your building. Each day there will be a list of individuals who will request entry to the building. It is possible that there are individuals who request entry and aren’t on the list. In which case you will mark on the checklist that they are not on the list and proceed to question the individual. Also, you must verify that the ID and the entry reqest are correct and have the respective D.D.D. logo. Don’t forget to also check the expiration on the IDs. Remember it’s Febuary 1955."
Your gaze wanders to the note that was stuck to the wall. 
Arnold Schmicht F02 – 01
Anastacha Mikaelys F02 – 04
Robertsky Peachman F01 – 02
Steven Rudboys F03 – 03 
Mia Stone F03 – 01
Rafttellyn Cappuccin F03 – 04
Admittedly, you don't know any of your neighbors, neither by character nor really by sight. You were never the type to care about your neighbors. 
"I wish you good luck."
C’mon Reader, be like Henry…
But better.
The first inhabitant was Mia Stone and you already started to sweat.
"Good evening."
Was she real? Was she a doppelganger? 
With shaky hands, you reached for her ID and entry pass, only to find that everything was fine. She was also on today's list and her appearance doesn't show any deviations either, right?
Just to be sure, you looked into the folder that described her appearance: 
Long hair
Small round nose
She has freckles
...
...
...
Freckles?
Your eyes wandered again to the woman in front of you, who was waiting patiently behind the window. 
You narrowed your eyes a little and leaned forward to get a better view of her.
No matter how long you stared at her, you didn't see them, her freckles. 
"You look different...", you murmur after a while.
"What's wrong with my appearance? I think everything is fine with my appearance."
Her photo on her ID and Entry Pass both have no freckles. 
Perhaps a mistake on the part of the D.D.D.? 
You're about to press the green button, but then you see her grinning slightly out of the corner of your eye. 
Shit. 
She almost had you. You're really not made for this job.
Your hand slammed hard against the red button, causing the siren to blare and the metal window to crash down. 
"3312," you murmur to yourself.
"You have contacted the D.D.D.. A group of agents has been sent to your building. Please wait for the cleaning protocol to run."
Cleaning protocol? 
What happens to those who were cleaned? They certainly won't be killed, will they? 
What if they will?
What if your judgment was wrong?
What if...
Your thoughts were interrupted as the siren fell silent and the metal window went up, only to reveal the yellow man.
"Cleaning protocol completed. You can continue your job."
It took a while until someone finally came again. 
This time, your heart was pounding faster. Significantly faster. And this time, you can't even say for sure that it's all out of fear. 
Milkman...
You definitely can't deny it: he's probably one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. 
You don't even have to look at today's checklist to tell he's not on it – a face like his would have caught your eye right away. 
"Francis Mosses, huh?" you murmured to yourself as you looked at his ID. "You're not on today's list."
"I’m not on today’s list because I had to leave due to an emergency."
Long nose
Thin chin
Tired eyes
Short hair
Wears a hat
It all fit. The only thing left now was a call. 
Just as you began to spin the wheel of the phone, he said, "You're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you here before."
"Yes, today is my first day."
"Must be hard, huh? I've heard that more and more doppelgangers are appearing and they are becoming more and more error-free. It would be a shame if such a pretty face as yours were to disappear forever."
Your cheeks turn red and suddenly you feel shyer than you actually are.
"B-But your job has to be hard as well. I didn't think that being a milkman would rob you so much sleep."
Francis smiles a little. So little that you almost didn't see it at all.
"It's not. I just stay up for a very long time. If you like, I can bring you some milk sometime. It's refreshing, calms the nerves."
You bite your lip slightly when you have to refrain from a question.
What milk do you mean exactly?
My God, why were you just such a sucker for handsome men?
"I'd be delighted, Francis."
You talked to him for a while and you quickly forgot that you were actually going to call someone. 
"I'd like to talk to you more, but I don't want to stop you from your work. I'll see you tomorrow, right, Reader?"
And you quickly forgot that you never told him your name. 
You pressed the green button.
_
"Shh," whispered the voice of Francis next to your ear. 
It was your third day, your third time to change shift.
Well, it usually would have been.
Your vision and mouth were blocked by the bloody hands of the doppelganger who claimed to be Francis.
He had killed the doorman, that should have taken over your shift.
You had to admit, that you were more than inconsiderate. After all, you didn't ask for his entry pass, nor the reason why he wasn't on today's list.  
"I'll let you go now, yeah? No wrong move, okay?"
He laughed softly as he released his hands from you and turned your chair, so you were facing him. 
"We don't want to hurt you, do we, Reader?"
The sentence shouldn't have given you hope, because after all, you were more than sure that you were going to die one way or another.
Maybe you should have shown a little resistance. For your honor, but....
Oh?
He is so close to you that you can practically feel his body heat. Or was it your own? Your face, despite your situation, was burning. 
Even though he said he was letting you go, his hands ran over your body and you couldn't deny that it did something to you. 
Were you so shameful?
"Actually, I wanted to wait, but I couldn't take it anymore.  I've been patient long enough, haven't I? It was so much work for me, to let you get this job."
You didn't know what to say. Honestly, you didn't know if you would even be able to answer him. 
His breath touched your throat as he spoke, "I think I deserve this, don't I? What do you say, Reader? Do I deserve my reward?”
If you were going to die anyway, why not enjoy the last few minutes?
Regardless of whether he was a doppelganger, he had lived up to his title as "Mlikman" that night.
_
"You killed the real Francis Mosses?" you asked the next day. 
Francis grins, almost so much so that his real form was threatening to show itself.
"Yes, of course. What would have happened if he had come before me? You would have sent the D.D.D. after me."
Well, he had a point, huh?
No matter how wrong it was, you were glad it didn't come to that. 
You didn't know the real Francis Mosses. That's probably why his death was so insignificant to you.
"Have you killed more people?"
"Just more doppelgangers you let through."
Your eyes widened. 
You were so sure you caught them all. The false success was the reason why you didn't quit…well, it was one of the reasons.
"How many have I let through?"
Francis just continues to wear his smirk as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.
"Don't rack your pretty head over it, okay?"
You just nod, smiling.
"Are you going to kill others...?
You don't know why you added your next question. Probably because you wanted to feel special. 
"Would you kill for me?"
"Hooooonn"
When you turn your gaze to his face, two white pupils stared at you and his grin is inhumanly wide and black. 
You don't know if it's joyful or sadistic, but it definitely made you feel special.
_
Looking back, you made more than a few mistakes. 
But honestly? 
You don't regret a single one of them. After all, all of them have led to an all-too-familiar knock on your window.
When you look up, he waves, the milkman. 
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shockedemojiatsv · 1 month
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▪︎■☆ молоко 🥛 ☆■▪︎
(Translation: Milk)
Part 1, Part 2
☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞
☆ amab! Switch! Francis Mosses / gn! Switch! Reader
☆ Reader can have either amab genitalia or a strap
☆ soft sex
☆ implied Russian speaking Francis
☆ short
☆ a little bit of a twist in the end
☆ author has played Not My Neighbor
°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°
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Francis was usually a laid back person who had a hard time showing any physical reactions to his feelings (not out of being stoic, usually he's just a little too tired to smile when he's happy or scream when he's scared). He wasn't one to smile all the time, but he showed his affection through other means. Like walking behind your back and kissing the nape of your neck and whispering "Золотце" (darling) behind your ear.
Or offering you some of his milk from work that his job wasn't able to sell so that you both could make something together or eat cereal together. There are a lot of doppelgangers everyday, everywhere, so he really cares about you. Even when he's usually too tired to express it with his face, he'll do so with his actions.
D.D.D. Is a pretty strict, so you and him made it an effort to always do everything required. If he forgot his hat at home he'd have a spare at work. You'd both work on your entry requests and always keep your ID's with you and to try to make an effort to always add your names on the list. Even if there would be an emergency at work. Just some extra measures to ease his anxiousness. And yours.
Other than that, being with him is always sweet. Like a warm mug of milk on a cold day. Steaming and keeping you warm.
Not to mentioned the sex with him. God. There's something about him and sex that makes you glad he's yours and yours alone.
His fingers are long. Not that thick, but he knew how to use them. Keenly observing your reactions within each prod as his digits brushed against a bundle of nerves that has you clutching his neck tight and holding him closer to you as he whispers "Куколка (dolly)... mmm... look at you"
He's not as verbal but he certainly has a smile on his face when he pleasures you and gives you what you want. Stroking and rubbing st your junk, it's wet. Thanks to him latching his mouth on the organ so that you could cum a couple times beforehand. He just wants to make you happy not gonna lie.
Oh, but sometimes he'll end up being a little too tired from work and not have the stamina to move at all. Not to worry! He'll be your pillow princess for the night. He loves those nights. You'll kiss his forehead softly whilst you thrust inside of him. A slow, passionate pace. You're slowly rearranging his guts while he holds the sheets so tight you'll fear they might rip in the morning.
He's a hummer. He'll hum and murmur stupid when he's fucking you. Or when you're fucking him. Phrases like "mmm... oh... З-Золотце... mmmmnnn..."
He can't help it! Even if he tried. He got shy about it actually but when you do engaged in sex more he felt like comfortable doing it. Honestly it's adorable.
Especially when he's giving oral. He's humming and drunk on the taste of you and he's always humming and moaning softly as you use him, and it feels so good. The added stimulation is so goddamn heavenly. And he's always good. He'd never tease and he never uses his teeth. He doesn't mind though if you do it. He's flexible with your desires. As long as if it isn't extreme or legitimately disgusting.
You love him so much and he loves you too and the entire building definitely knows.
...
So when he comes home with an odd demeanor. As if he's forgotten everything you two shared previously, as if hes a totally different person, you'll only have yourself to save before it's too late.
.
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herozdiary · 1 month
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Who’s the hot ass milk man?
Francis mosses x reader
This diary entry contains…Absolute down bad reader|Francis being..Francis|Suggestive in a way |Kinda modern|Reader is around the same age as Francis obviously!|Both characters are set to be 20ish 💁‍♀️|short Drabble|
A/N:My FIRST time writing about him!This fandom needed more tumblr fics as the ones on Ao3 are good besides the fact people are already making weird content about this man…ANYWAY!Enjoy!🎀
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In this day and age you wouldn’t expect people to have their milk delivered still,But some people still saw it as a nice way to make quick money.The only reason you liked milkmen still being around was because one of them was fine like hell.
Everytime you saw him it made you wanna do a cartwheel.Francis was a very quiet person who only seemed to wanna get his job done with for the day.His tired eyes always displayed had this tired look in his eyes.
When you first met him you had to stop yourself for saying the most down bad sentence to him and kindly accept the milk.The cold bottle would just sit in the fridge until you needed it for something like making pancakes or cereal.
But you were always thankful to see francis.When he did talk it was addictive to hear.His tired voice made you think things that didn't need to be thought.
Sometimes if you were lucky enough he would flash you a small smile before walking back to his truck.You always wondered if he had a lover of some sorts.He seemed to be a normal dude who was good looking so you were shocked when he revelaed he was single.
You joked about how you were always open but in the truth was that you werent really joking and that you would always be open to date him.
"do other girls try to hit on you?"You had asked while checking him out as he shook his head."Not really.Most of them don't end up even answering the door."Francis stated while handing you the bottle.You gladly took it before clearing your throat.
"Would you be interested in dating someone"You ask while swirling the container of liquid around the bottle.Francis paused before shrugging."Never crossed my mind.I'm always so busy with work i never thought about a relationship"He said before checking his watch.
"as much as i would love to listen to your ways of trying to figure out my love life so you can ask me out,I have more people to get to"He said before waving you bye and turning to head to his truck.
You stood confused on your porch before fully getting what he said.You felt your face heat up as you shuffled back into your house.Even if you wanted to deny it,You knew it was true.As you sat the bottle down on the table you realized that something was written on it.
inspecting the bottle more you smiled as you realized it was a phone number and it was signed with the letter F.You smiled as you went to write it down on a piece of paper so you dont forget to send him a text later.
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yaboybenji423 · 29 days
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Milkman Has An Offer
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He wants you to be the scarlet milkmaid to his scarlet milkman
(Lemme know if you can find all the hearts lol, I thought they’d be cute)
Time: Paper sketch started 4/1/24, digital file time ~7hrs
Layers: ~90
Tools: Paper then ibisPaint X
Also man they look like:
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See below for blood + solo versions:
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milkmanxreader · 24 days
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"Isn't the new milk man just a dreamboat?"
. ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹
.
.
.
You hummed quietly to yourself as the feather duster swept over everything it could reach. Robert was out for his work, and you couldn't have been more happy. You liked when he was gone, after all. In the background, a phonograph played a slightly older, yet sweet tune. "Heartaches", by Al Bowlly. Robert didn't much care for the tune, but you found it simply darling.
A lot of the songs you had were a bit older, mostly from the '30s and '20s. But you could've cared less about the age of them.
Suddenly— a gentle, yet firm knock on the door shot you out of your thoughts. For a moment you fretted it was your husband, but he wouldn't have knocked. Upon realizing that it must've been the milk man, you sighed, making your way to the door.
The milk man was such a.. interesting man, broad shouldered, short. You opened the door— now who was this?
Instead of seeing the broad shouldered, short, blonde haired man who typically wore some grin standing in front of you, your eyes met with tired dark, dark brown eyes. He was a bit taller than you, with a long nose, a thin chin, and brown hair which was, mostly, covered by the hat you'd grown used to seeing. Only now on a different face.
Despite yourself, you had to admit the man was eye-candy. Face going a light shade of pink, you tilted your head to the side a bit, looking confused.
"Uh.. hello?" you said, though it came out sounding more like a question than you perhaps intended. The man jut out his arms, frightening you a bit. In his hands was the milk crate. "..Right!" 
Although the silent man was.. seeming to be a bit odd, he was quite cute.
You took the crate, "So, stranger," you said, smoothing out the apron you wore with your free hand, "what's your name?"
The cute milk man stared at you expectantly, before speaking in a tired, drawn out voice.
"Francis. Francis Mosses."
He took off his hat and bowed a little, a gesture which caused your cheeks to flare a rosy red, and a giggle to escape from you. "I like your name," you complimented honestly. Francis nodded, murmuring a 'thank you'.
"I'm {Y/N} {L/N}." You introduced yourself with a growing smile. He put his hat back on, shot you a nod and without another word, walked back to his truck.
What a dreamboat.
Once the door was shut, you couldn't contain the big grin from forming on your face. Such a handsome, mysterious man— and you got to see him every day? Wow.
.
.
.
Yet again, supper was quiet. But you were in a better mood, a soft smile on your face as you stared down at the leftover meatloaf you'd reheated from last night. "How was your day, hon?" you broke the silence, albeit reluctantly.
Robert hummed, "Fine."
While part of you wanted to press on, have a nice conversation for once, you managed to hold your tongue. After all, you wanted to go to bed early instead of having a long argument, afterall— you had Francis to look forward to tomorrow.
Distantly you felt a sense of self-disgust. You were a married woman, yet felt excited by the idea of being around Francis. Perhaps not in some lewd way, but something similar, in a way.
.
.
.
You weren't sure if you had ever cleaned dishes so fast before now. Only twenty minutes you spent scrubbing before you pratically ripped off the yellow dish gloves and was racing to the downstairs bathroom— the only place Robert allowed you to have your "womanly" stuff. Face wash, lotions, ectera.
Surpressing a laugh of excitment, you quickly began your nightly routine, quite excited for tomorrow morning.
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glxyaaandromeda · 26 days
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In amidst of chaos, there is comfort in him.
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Pairing/s: Francis Mosses x GN! Reader (established relationship) Prompt: “I’ll always be here for you.” “We’ll do the dishes together.” Warning/s: Angst / hurt / comfort fluff at the end. Summary: Everything seems to be in order, you have a decent job, a place to stay, and a boyfriend; Francis who’s always been on your side but doppelgangers? You couldn’t help but become anxious that it troubled you to do things. Word count: 600+ A/N: I am not entirely sure of Francis’s age but I’ll be sticking with both him and the reader are in their 20s, it’s been a while since I wrote something so I’m sorry in advance for the grammar. Enjoy reading! Feedbacks / coffee are very much appreciated. P.S: MDI! Since you like / reblog this one, you might like this too ;)
Masterlists | commission sheet + socials —
“(Y/N)?” Francis called, but you didn’t respond quickly. You continue to sulk on the couch, covering yourself even more with the blanket, not wanting any light to come through. He noticed you’ve been doing this for days but he didn’t intervene or ask you about it, assuming that you need some time alone from all the chaos that had been going on in the building.
But now he is truly concerned, he takes a mental note to call his boss to have a day off for a few days or so for him to take care of you, his partner. He then removed his bowtie and hat, kneeling down near the couch he spoke quietly.
“Mm.. love? I’m starting to get worried about you.”
He was sure that you’ve been okay for the past few weeks but at the same time he noticed that you’ve been… off like your mind is elsewhere, he felt guilty for not being able to ask you how you’ve been dealing with work or anything that made you feeling under the weather these days, he patiently waits for you to say something at him.
You shifted yourself under the blanket, turning your face over him, your gaze softening at the sight of the man that you always loved. Francis smiled at you as soon as he saw you facing him, before he touch you, he asked ‘Is it okay for me to touch you?’ you then nodded, he then put his warm hand to your cheek, his thumb gently caressing it softly. “I’m sorry..”
“Mm.. what for, love?” “I– I’ve been feeling unwell, wasn’t able to do daily task b-because of-”
You trail off with your words, trying to catch your breathing while he strokes your cheek. He also removes the blanket to help you ease even a bit. His silence and attentiveness are enough to give you the courage to speak about what’s been going on with you lately.
“B-Because of what’s been going lately... I– I’m starting to get anxious, it’s stressing me out, I’m sorry if I wasn’t being a proper partner for the past few days..”
Francis was hurt seeing you in this state, while you were busy talking he took a seat beside you on the couch listening attentively to you, his hand intertwined with yours making your shoulder less tense, you avoided his gaze so that he couldn't see the tears dwelling on your eyes. “... m’sorry the dishes are piling up, the laundry... I- I hope you’re not mad at me, Fran.”
Without uttering a word, Francis’s hands gently cupped your cheeks making you look up at him making you tear up a bit as his thumb brushed the tear on your eye. Brushing the hair off your forehead, he kisses it softly. “I’m not mad at you, I will never be..” He trails off, giving you a small reassuring smile, then he leans closer to give you a soft kiss on the top of your nose making you close your eyes to savor the moment, to feel at ease that you’re not alone through this chaos. “I know you’re a strong one, you always have been, darling.”
You cling to him, both of your arms wrapped around his neck as you cry softly on the crook of his neck muttering incoherent words ‘..don’t want to lose you’ ‘I hope it doesn’t get us, or you-’ his hand gently patting your back to help your tears and hiccups to subside.
“... I hope it won’t get to us too, and always remember that I’ll always be here for you.” He then kisses the side of your cheek and when he’s about to ask you about doing the chores together– he notices your arm fall loosely on the side; you are sleeping on the crook of his neck, a small smile plastered on your face. “Mm.. I suppose we can do that tomorrow. I love you (Y/N)..”
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mikomikumi · 1 month
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Guys I was on the plane and got bored. I wrote y’all some milkman smut~
Plz enjoy
Francis mosses x reader SMUT
Warnings; Penetration (PinV), orgasm denial, dom! Francis. sub! Reader. afab! Reader.
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This day couldn’t be any more boring than it already is. The Doorman is slumped in their seat, bored out of their mind.
They heard footsteps coming up to the window. It appears to be Francis Mosses. “Mmm, hello”. The usual greeting. Nothing seems off. “ID and Entry card please?”, asks the Doorman. Francis slips the paper under.
Appearance? Normal
Description? On point.
ID? One number is off.
“Hmm, your ID doesn’t fully match the correct one we have here.” The doppelgänger that stood in front of him started to panic. “I-I think you just need to re-read it. That’s m-my ID.” Unusual, he never speaks this much. “I saw your roommate Y/N come home earlier. Let me just give your room a call”. The doorman grabs the rotary phone and rings up Francis’s room, in hopes either you or the real Francis would answer.
The day was about to get just a little less boring.
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“Ngh~ fuck, so tight~” Francis moaned. The second you had come home from the bakery, Francis snuck up behind you and tried to strip you. He had been so horny all day. His one day off and you had to go to work. The milkman needed to give someone his milk~
“Take it, Y/N. Please~ Let me fill you with my milk~ Francis moaned and begged. He pounded your pussy like it was his last day on earth. He had filled you with cream about 3 times already. Yet his cock stayed hard, throbbing for more. He gripped your plush thigh, with the other hand on your chin. Francis's tongue fucked your mouth with passion. “Mmh~ good girl”.
Your tight little cunt didn’t mind. Your legs stayed open and welcome for each thrust of his hips, for each slap of his balls against your ass. You loved him. The way he fucked you gave you life. “Francis~”, you moaned his name for the hundredth time that day. You rubbed your clit as you were on the edge of another climax. It drove his cock wild. It throbbed as he was about to cum again-
“Ring ring!” The rotary phone on the bedside locker buzzed. You reached your hand over to it when all of a sudden it was pinned to the bed. “Don’t, we’re busy”. Francis demanded, getting ready to thrust inside you again. “Francis, if they let a doppelgänger in, the building is dead!” You argued. This annoyed the milkman. He let go of your wrist. “Mmm…Fine, but make it quick. I still have more cum to pump you full with”.
Your body turns away from the milkman. His cock leaves your hole as you pick up the phone. Francis, despite the orgasm denial, had an idea. He wasn’t a huge fan of that doorman, always looking at his Y/N. Maybe he could put him in their place.
“Hello? Ah hi there Mx. Doorma-ah!”. The milkman cheekily slapped your thigh, and your body shivered. “S-sorry. Yes I’m in my apartment. My roomma-”. Francis was sick of you calling him his ‘roommate’ instead of boyfriend. The only reason you did was that it was muscle memory. Francis grabbed the phone from your hand. He used his other hand to pin you down and he started thrusting himself back into you. You let out a scream, which you quickly muffled with your hand along with the other moans.
“Mmm…yes. I’m in my apartment with Y/N”. The clapping of skin could be heard in the background. “Is that all?” The milkman asked. He pounded into you faster, as payback for not letting him finish earlier. “…yes…”. The doorman eventually answered. Francis almost threw the phone back down into its place before gripping both your thighs tight. “Now, you owe me”. He shows no mercy, holds your thighs up and full-on pounds your pussy in.
“You’re…you’re gonna take my cum inside again?…right Y/N?…you’re gonna be a good girl and cum on this cock…?”. You know it’s not a question. It’s a demand.
“Yes Francis….fuuuck~”. Your eyes roll to the back of your head while you release yourself for the 4th time today. Your body sinks into the cum-soaked sheets as you let your boyfriend take over.
“Cumming…fucking…take it” he lets out a massive groan, this cock throbs and twitches as white ropes spew into your cunt. “Yeah…good girl”. Francis slowly continued to thrust, helping ride out his and your orgasm. He almost collapses on top of you when he finishes. He lies on your chest, his cock still buried deep in your womb as he snuggles.
“Always a cuddle bug after sex” You stroked his head and placed a kiss on his forehead. Francis is now completely drained. His baggy eyes stare into yours. “So…tired…”…the milkman mumbles, drifting into a deep slumber. You decide to join him, closing your eyes. You couldn’t ask for a better way to sleep other than having your boyfriend in your arms.
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The Doorman stares at the phone in mortified awe after the real Francis hangs up. They turn to look at the doppelgänger, who is now sweating profusely. “Sorry buddy, you ain’t coming in”. The doorman lifts the clear cover of the red button and pushes it.
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chanelrolls · 1 month
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milkman x gn!reader
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genre: suspense, thrill, a bit of action
summary: you're warned abt the recent doppelganger sightings around your town while you're home alone, unbeknownst to yourself that you'd be attacked by one of your neighbours, the milk man, as the two of you play a game of cat and mouse.
__________________
"have you been warned by the recent doppelganger sightings?", from the other side of the phone, your bestfriend's voice resonated through the line, whilst you're rubbing your hands with soap by the kitchen counters. you had just finished eating dinner with your pet, and you have been living alone all by yourself since your grandparents allowed you to take over their property.
you take note of your bestfriend's words, brows furrowing until your glabella meets. of course, you are aware of what a doppelganger is, but the sudden phenomenon of its existence leaves you perplexed. or maybe, your bestfriend is joking around again? "doppelgangers? where'd you even hear that from? so silly...", you wipe your hands with a piece of cloth, awaiting her response.
"hear? i witnessed it myself, y/n. it's on the newsflash, residents are being attacked by doppelgangers! some being injured and some in critical condition, as said. y/n, you should be careful—"
your attention abruptly shifts towards your main door, and to the windows that was situated in both sides. you almost swore you heard a faint noise from outside, specifically near your porch. you remained silent, a series of shivers running through your nerves. "y/n? are you there?", your bestfriend's voice came out as a background noise, as you slowly saunter towards the window, with every movement you make being precise and calculated.
just then, your heart nearly escapes out of your chest upon seeing someone's silhouette by the porch. you couldn't see much since the window restricted you from doing so, and otherwise, whoever the hell that is might see you. "girl, call 911 immediately.", you whispered to your phone. "what? what's happening!? you're making me worried, y/n!" you halt from your tracks when your eyes catch sight of a familiar delivery box that was resting near the silhouette's feet. it was the daily delivery milkman! strangely, he usually delivers you the milk jugs every 6PM, and it's already past 2 hours.
"nevermind... just make sure to answer your phone as soon as i call you."
"what? you haven't—", you cut your bestfriend's line on end, quietly placing your phone down. you hesitated for a few more moments, but the knocking on the door interferes with your trail of thoughts. you weren't sure whether you'd believe your bestfriend's warnings since you haven't heard of the news yourself (well, because you don't watch the news...) or just get it over with and receive the milk jugs as fast as possible.
you puff out a nervous sigh, your hand slowly reaching out for the doorknob — as your fingers touched the cold metallic surface, you twisted the handle, opening the door and facing francis mosses himself. as always, he held a lackadaisical countenance for someone whose job is as mundane as delivering milk jugs to the same locations each day. nothing really changed in his appearance... he had the same lifeless eyes, with dark and deep bags underneath. his physique is attuned by the same milkman suit paired with his silly little iconic hat on top of his head, plus, he's towering over you.
before you were able to say anything, he speaks up, "sorry for the late delivery." with a monotonous tone. you try to scrutinize any unusual differences in his physiognomy, to compare them to the previous times he made deliveries for you. as much as you wanted to ignore your bestfriend's warnings at the back of your head, your subconscious couldn't help but to act a lot more wary. you watched as his eyes locked onto yours, then momentarily shifting to the inside corners of your house. "will you perhaps... let me in?"
your breath hitched, what kind of question was that? no sane human would have the guts to ask a fellow you barely know something so outright and personal. "oh. 'scuse me for being rude, i've just been really thirsty and worn out, a glass of water would help...", he explains, his hand going up to gesture to his adam's apple, with a silent plea in his sleepy eyes.
"ah—", you promptly take the milk jugs from his hand, avoiding any eye-contact. "if all you need is water, i'll bring it out for you then. please wait outside!" you lightheartedly cheer, trying to shake off the tension building up in the atmosphere. but as soon as you turn your back on him, you hear a thud, causing you to instinctively look over your shoulder.
francis's hand is leaning against the doorframe, while the other is behind him. his eyes became peculiarly darker than a moment ago, steadily aiming at you, as his foot is almost beyond the doorstep. "i'd also need to wash a part of me, so i'll really appreciate it if you let me in?" his lips are slightly parted, exposing a bit of his teeth.
"uh-" your head then became messy with all of the incoherent thoughts flowing, and the only thing certain to you right now was how alarmed you feel.
"please?", added he, taking one more step forward, his fingers crawling from the doorframe and to the flat wooden surface of the door itself, to fully lean his elbow against the frame as a way to support his figure.
that's it. your survival instincts have been provoked, this was too far for an ordinary milkman to be acting like this- almost trespassing your personal space, at that. you run to the kitchen island, and as you do so, the sound of rushing footsteps behind you had your adrenaline skyrocketing its maximum. you frantically search for any possible weapon, thus eventually grabbing a paring knife to aim it towards the milkman's doppelganger.
his agility outmatched yours, when he wraps his hand around your wrist to twist your forearm, forcing you to drop your weapon onto the cold tiles. "no, no, no, not so fast—" francis cooed, but there's no way you would let yourself die in a situation like this, so as soon as he planned on doing his next move, you raise your knee to hit his crotch.
"gghk!" that painful strike from you elicited a grunt out of him, you didn't hesitate to take advantage of his agony and kicked him down to the ground once more. your hands desperately reach for the knife again, as if it was the only thing that could keep you alive (well, technically it is.) grabbing ahold of it and positioning the tip near his eye.
at this point, you were hovering on top of him, with your knees painfully pressed against the floor. on the other hand, francis is still wincing from the attack he had to endure, his elbows angled against the tiles to keep his torso slanted from it. "try to move, i'll stab your forehead."
if you were to be honest, you weren't sure of what you had to do next. but as of now, you were sure that you gained the upper hand.
milkman doesn't say anything, he keeps his eyes on yours, as if he plans on burning your eyeballs with just the ominous power of his stare. you watched how the corners of his lips formed a smirk, also as if to mock your attempts. "playing games now?" he leans closer, but within a blink of an eye, plunging forward to yank your arm away and pinning you down the tiles, reversing the positions. surely, you didn't have the upper hand anymore.
"how do you feel being beneath me? like this?", he says, his fingertips lightly coasting up the skin of your face. you feel his touch on your ears, you didn't understand what he was trying to do, and you still attempt to escape from his grip. however, francis had no intention of letting you go. his fingers leave your ear, moving down to wrap around your throat. his grip is firm, that you could feel his nails subtly digging into the flesh of your neck, and you're starting to feel light-headed.
"i politely told you to let me in. if you only did, then..." you gasp for air, but you didn't fail to catch how his eyes were already widened and his pupils were contracted. the expression plastered on his visage resembling a mad psychopath's. "then this wouldn't have happened to you."
just as you embraced yourself to face death, everything went black and dead silent. though you still felt the hand around your neck, but his grip loosened. it took the both of you long enough to realize that a power outage within the whole neighbourhood had occured.
you muster up the courage and strength to push him off of you while he was still dumbfounded from the blackout. scurrying away, you feel his hand grab your ankle, but you were quick enough to give his face a hit, so you crawl up bristling and ran around the house.
it was hard for you to see much, but the moonlight seething through the blinds was enough for you to catch sight of the living room materializing before your scrutiny in the dark. the first thing you did was to hide in the small closet near the TV, praying that the odds will favour you and somehow trick the milkman that you went somewhere else.
you made sure to keep yourself quiet, hearing slow footsteps as you try to process where it came from and where it led to. the reverbating echoes of the steps indicated that he was heading upstairs, to your relief. you carefully push the closet door and step outside, wandering your eyes around the vicinity. each step you made towards the main door had your heart hammering against your chest, but shouldn't you feel advantaged that the doppelganger is now upstairs? the presence of the milkman still lingered even though he's not to be seen anymore.
your hand clutches onto your chest, upon coming into the realization of having to call your bestfriend. but where was your phone? you couldn't remember where you last left it due to how much you've been panicking. "fuck, fuck. i need to calm down—"
just then, you feel someone's hot breath brush against your nape, and a strong sense of presence just right around nearby. you stop, breathing heavily as your hands begin to tremble. ghostly fingers crawl up to your arm up until your shoulder, and his breathing is getting slow on your ear. slowly, your eyes move to the mirror adjacent to where you were standing.
and then, you see him standing behind you. you take note of how the hat he wore moments prior was no longer on top of his head, and you could see that his hair is slightly disheveled from all the chase you've been doing.
"ngh—!", you squeak in surprise, but he was fast enough to cover your mouth with a hand. he looks at you through the mirror, and you look at how he had the same smirk from earlier. it was inhumanely impossible, but you swore to yourself that you could see a blood-red glint lurking beneath his irises.
"shhh."
he pulls your waist, forcing you to face him and your faces had never been this close before. the proximity makes your blood rise all the way up to your face, for some other reason you couldn't pinpoint out. you couldn't quite distinguish his features that much from the darkness, but you were able to see the shadows and the contrasts in his face.
"would you want to see my real form?", his eyebrows are tilted, creases forming in between. "it seems you do, you keep testing my patience." there was a subtle hiss through his whispers, as he pushes you down the nearest chair, pulling a groan out of your throat.
there was an undeniable tension jostling through and through, maybe even a sexual one, at that. from the amount of intimate physical touching that he's done on you, and the way francis's predatory gaze constantly skim through your body. while you're just right there, being helpless and facing no other choice but to submit. otherwise he'll use that larger knife in his hand on you, wait, since when did he have that?
"please..." you beg through gritted teeth, clutching onto the fabric of the sofa you're on.
"please." he repeats, mocking you with a pleading face that came much more convincing than yours. he's leaning forward, looking like he's the one hovering on you allover again.
you close your eyes, pursing your lips against one another. but as soon as francis makes yet another move, the wail of the siren pierces the tranquility of the neighbourhood, echoing off the silence. as the police cars prowls past, its pulsating hues of crimson and blue seeths through the windows of your house.
you open your eyes, is that the police? are they here to save you? all of the sudden, francis drops the weapon he's been holding, immediately kneeling on the ground and looking up at you, this time, with a genuine plea.
"no, don't make me go. please."
it's too late, the doppelganger has been caught. and the chase had now come to an end.
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write-tama · 20 days
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"to live with the milkman."
╰┈➤ francis mosses (the milkman) x doorman!reader
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sypnosis ; reader is worried because francis hasnt been seen in a week. they decide to pay francis' apartment a little visit..
containing! ; lois stilinksy, working as doorman, gender neutral pronouns, use of y/n, francis being a little sick and out of uniform, francis and reader eat mac n cheese tg :3
authors note ; this is lowkey a slowburn-- i didnt mean to write so much D: i started writing yesterday morning and just finished this morning LOL but ya its very just wholesome and soft ^^
4.12.24 | 2.7k words
'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
As a doorman, you realize a pattern of people would often come and go through the apartment. You know who goes to work in the morning and who comes home in the afternoon, and you know what days they typically go out and days where they don’t.
So, I'm not totally creepy when I say I've noticed a shift in Francis’ schedule, right? He’s not one to typically go out unless he has work in the morning— which is usually Tuesday through Friday, but lately, I haven’t seen him all week.
Nothing but the worst truly went through my mind. He could’ve been eaten by a doppel, or worse, was mistaken for a doppel and was exterminated on sight! These anxious feelings went through my head as I nervously clicked my pen. I glanced at today’s list again, as if magically waiting for his name and picture to show up on the piece of paper.
click, click, click.
Through the office window, I heard the subtle steps of heels clicking against the worn tiles. Sighing, I sat up straight and folded my hands in front of desk, forcing my anxious thoughts to the back of my head in order to continue doing my job. I looked up to meet the gaze of thick magenta bangs with eyes barely visible I sort of wonder how she even navigates through her surroundings.
“Good afternoon.” She greeted, her thick lips curling into a polite smile. I nod as I took her ID and entry request through the letter box, scanning through the documents for any misspellings or misinformation. As I carefully examined the print, I notice Lois’ lips pursing into a curious point.
“You looked troubled, sweetheart.” She noted. “Is everything alright? Besides work-stress that is.”
I sighed a little, placing her card down before looking through today’s list. I checked off Lois’ picture before turning to my request checklist. “Yeah, I just.. I don’t know. Have you heard from Francis recently?” I asked, not even masking the worried tone in my voice. Lois hummed a little, as if thinking about the last time she has even seen the man.
“The last time I saw him, he looked extremely tired. Like more tired than usual. I think he was just coming home from work? He was coughing and sniffling a lot.” She recalled. “Poor boy.. He must’ve been sick for a while.” Lois shook her head. With her words I felt like a pressure had been released from my chest. Oh, good, so there is a chance he’s alive, I thought to myself. I slid back her ID and smiled.
“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry, I just get worried knowing that a neighbor could’ve been killed by a doppel or any force of nature of that matter.” I lightly chuckled. Lois smiled, taking her ID before looking at me.
“You should talk to him. I’m sure he could use the company right now.” Lois suggested, but through that grin I could see that teasing smile.
I sighed a little, a little grin starting to form on my face. “C’mon, Lois, that would be way too embarrassing!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms in my chair. Lois lightly giggled, raising a white glove to stiffle her laughs.
“Oh, it won’t hurt, honestly! You never know what could happen~” she said, all singy-songy. I rolled my eyes before pressing the unlock button.
“Yeah, yeah. The door’s right there.” I sarcastically replied, a big grin on my face.
“Just think about it!” She called out as she walked through the door. I shook my head in amusement, listening to the door click behind her. I locked the door and returned to my previous slouched position.
Maybe I should pay him a visit.
My shift ended around late evening. I packed my bag and slid on my cardigan before locking the door behind me and hiding the key in a place only the next doorman would be able to find it. As I walked towards the exit of the building, I thought about what Lois had said earlier about paying him a visit. I never even really attempted to go past the lobby area of the apartment building. I had no purpose to anyway. And plus, it would’ve been a lengthy process to even request a visitor’s pass due to the security. I looked over to the doorman’s office, realizing that as of now, no one is on duty. Would it be morally wrong to go against the rules of the literal job I worked in?
Maybe.
But maybe my curiosity and anxiety could take over just for this one moment.
I walked back to the doorman’s office and unlocked the door. I placed the key back in its original hiding place before entering. I made sure to lock the door behind me before taking a look around the room again. Behind the doorman’s seat, there’s a door that leads to the stairway of the apartment complex. Its main purpose was to serve as a fire escape just in case of an emergency. Eagerly and swiftly, I gently pushed the door open, making sure to not make much noise. Once I walked out, I was met with the smell of old concrete and a spiral of stairs. I sighed to myself, remembering that Francis does in fact live on the third floor.
The stairs felt endless as my shoes clicked on the hard concrete. Fortunately, I only had to take a break only two times. I was finally at the end of the stairs, my legs tired from the endless climbly. I pushed the door open and was greeted with a typical carpeted hallway with blinding yellow-white lights that nearly burned my eyes. I sighed before trailing through the doors, looking at each number plate in order to locate the right room.
“Room 02, room 02..” I hummed to myself, just like how I would while scanning through files. After turning a corner, I was finally able to locate Francis’ room. I raised my fist to knock at the door, but the soft, soothing sounds of piano muffled through the wood. I stopped in my tracks, feeling as if my knock would disturb the perfect flow of the keys as I’m sure its song filled the apartment with grace. I waited for the keys’ song to slow to an end, the melody slowly fading out of the air and a sigh following its silence. I couldn’t help but smile, and sure this gave me enough proof that Francis was in fact still alive, but.. Something about his skills on the piano made me even more intrigued by the man.
I gently knocked with my knuckles, but making sure I was firm enough for the knocks to even be heard. From inside, I heard a chair scrape against wooden floorboard before footsteps steadily approaching me. A couple locks were undone before the squeak of the door filled my ears. I looked up and there Francis was— his eyebags were relatively darker and he was still in sleep attire with a baggy set of pajama pants and a fitting white tee.
“Oh— uh, (y/n)—” he said a little shocked to see me. I smiled a little, tilting my head at him.
“You shouldn’t have opened your door so fast. I could’ve been a doppel, y’know?” I advised. I heard him suck air through his teeth as he realized his rookie mistake.
“Mmm.. I’m sorry..” He mumbled, making me raise an eyebrow.
“You don’t have to apologize to me.” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve been worried about you since I haven’t seen you in a while. I just.. Wanted to check if you were okay.”
Francis raised his eyebrows in surprise. It made me wonder if anyone else but me paid him a visit due to his absence. We lingered in silence for a minute. he stared down at me as I stared up at him.
“..May I be invited in?” I requested, breaking the silence. Francis blinked his eyes a little, as if he had been lost in thought previously.
“Mmm.. ID and entry request, please?” Francis teased, smiling a little. I scoffed, immediately catching on to his wittiness.
“Ha ha, very funny, Mr. Mosses.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes. His grin grew wider, clearly amused by reaction. He stepped aside from the door, allowing me to enter. I walked in, bag still clutched to my side as I took a look around the apartment.
It was humble but quaint space. The ceiling lights were off and frankly looked like they were never used, however, his lamps illuminated a soft warm orange on his furniture. He had a small box TV and dull red couch with a small round coffee table planted in the middle. Huddled in a corner was his old piano he must've been playing earlier. Francis closed the door behind me, making sure to lock it as well. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” He apologized, quickly rushing to his couch where clothes scattered over the armrests. He went down a small hallway I assumed to be where his bathroom and bedroom was. I took off my shoes and placed my bag on the table that sat next to the door before sitting myself on the couch.
I sighed a little, almost drowning into the soft pillows. It almost made me question why he would be struggling with sleep if he has a couch as comfortable as this. I could see a bit of his kitchen from sitting on his couch. It was a decent size with counters on one side and the appliances on the other. It seemed like he had something on the stove cooking as well.
Francis walked in shortly after and took his seat on other end of the couch, keeping a distance between the two of us. I brought my knees to my chest while hugging his couch pillows. I looked at him for a bit, trying to figure out myself as to why he hasn’t been out recently. Not only was his dark circles were more apparent, his hair was a little longer and messier. He looked paler than usual as well. Francis turned to me, a curious look on his face.
“Is it apparent..?” Francis asked. I furrowed my eyebrows, a little confused on what he meant.
“Hm?” I hummed in response.
“That I’m coming down with something.” He chuckled slightly. I shrugged a little, leaning back on the couch cushions.
“I mean.. Your hair is messier.” I smiled, admiring the frizz on the top of his head. Francis quickly glanced up before running his fingers through his hair.
“It’s not that messy..” He sighed.
“Well, I wouldn’t know. You always got that milkman hat on the top of your head.” I laughed. I glanced over to the kitchen again, realizing that steam was coming through the glass lid. “I think you might want to get that.” I suggested, nodding my head towards the stove. He hummed a little before getting off of the couch and heading towards the kitchen. I watched as he reached the top of the cabinets, stretching up with ease. I couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders to his slim waist defined by his white shirt.
“Hey, I made mac n’ cheese if you’d like a bowl.” He offered, his voice immediately cutting through my daze.
“Oh— uh, yeah of course. I was about to get dinner after I got off my shift but here I am.” I chuckled. He nodded before grabbing another platter to make my own plate. I sat patiently on the couch before noticing the remote on the coffee table. “Hey, can I turn on the TV?” I asked.
“Hm?” Francis hummed from the kitchen. “Mmm.. Sure. I don’t mind.” He shrugged before turning back to his task.
Something about this felt so.. Safe.. And homely. I felt comfortable, despite me never even being in Francis’ apartment before. It felt familiar, and I couldn’t lie to myself and say that this is the most peace I’ve felt since the news of doppelgangers came out. I picked up the TV remote and flicked it on, browsing through the channels before find a movie we could idly have in the background.
Francis came out of the kitchen, holding two bowls with forks in each. This time, he took his seat much closer to me before placing my bowl on the coffee table. “Thank you.” I politely nodded. I took the bowl and started to eat. Honestly, to my surprise, the food was actually pretty good for a man who worked day and night. I was enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of us as we enjoyed our dinner together— something I barely saw myself seeing tonight.
“Hey.. (y/n)?” Francis mumbled quietly.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I replied, taking another scoop of the creamy mac n’ cheese to shove in my mouth.
“Why did you.. Come here?”
Something about that question made my heart skip a little. Why did I come here? I mean— I came here to make sure he was okay. That’s my job as doorman. To make sure all of the neighbors are safe and alive. But even when I heard him through the door, clearly shown to me that he is still breathing, I stuck around anyway.
Why did I come here?
“Well— I uh..” I trailed off a little, sort of lost to where I should even begin. “I was just worried about you. That is my job, no?” I said, clearing my throat. I kept my eyes on the screen, a little embarrassed to even face him.
“Mmm.. I don’t entirely believe that.” He hummed. “You could’ve called.”
Oh, fuck, yeah no— he’s right.
Ugh, Lois!
You set me up!
“That’s true..” I chuckled. “I guess you caught me.”
“Mmm..” He mumbled. He placed his now empty dinner on the table before folding his hands in his lap. “So..?”
I took a deep breath, feeling my heart beat fast inside my chest and a warmth creeping up my whole body. I placed my bowl onto the coffee table as well, and finally mustered the courage to look at him in his eyes.
“Francis..” I mumbled. He leaned in a little closer, as if he wanted to lean into my words and trusted them to embrace him.
“I.. I just.. I think I like you..” I trailed out. My head felt cloudy as a tingling sensation danced all over my skin, feeling like a little kid during recess confessing to her elementary school crush. “I've liked you.. Ever since we met. I never really said anything because I felt like you weren't necessarily interested in a relationship.. But Lois and Rafttellyn would always point out how you would look at me and I just—!”
A strong hand placed firmly on my cheek— so cold against my blushing face— pulled me in to meet those soft lips of his. I was completely silenced and wide eyed, but I knew what he was telling me. Everything in those pink lips told me that everything was going to be okay, and he liked me just as much..
I fluttered my eyes closed, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to his chest. The TV buzzed in front of us, sputtering incoherent actors cracking jokes and delivering their lines. Our finished bowls of dinner were scattered on the table, but it was easy to tell the food was delicious for no piece of macaroni was left unnoticed. I pressed harder against his lips, letting the thought of breathing slip my mind.
If this is what it's like to live with him—
To spend our evenings chatting
Eating dinner on his couch
Watching TV while enjoying each other's presence
Then maybe I could get used to this.
'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
tagging ; @crybabies-heart @shypizzaperson @your-local-oc-maker @spearsillustration @mochi46106 @seraphlin @glxyaaandromeda (some ppl i tagged either bc they followed me on my old acc and just some ppl who interacted with my past content and just thought they would be interested in this fic :3
thank you so much for reading and reposts and likes are always so, so appreciated <3
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writa-anon · 22 days
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"is that.. supposed to be me?"
francis mosses (the milkman) x artist!reader
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a / n ~ boom! first fanfic :3 i was a little inspired by uh.. myself LOL when i started playing tnmn i realized i was horrible at memorizing faces so i started drawing the characters to help me remember and it works sooo much. but anyway, super cute oneshot where they first meet, hope u enjoy :D
content included ~ isaack mauss, francis mosses, reader is an artist and doorman, no pronouns mentioned for reader, use of (y/n), shy n wholesome first encounter
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 4.10.24 | 1.6k words
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Another slow day at work, huh?”
A enthusiatic-ridden voice boomed, instinctively making me look up to meet the gaze of a strong-jawlined man. I cleared my throat and placed my pencil on the scratchy sheet of paper, sitting up in my chair.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Gauss.” I greeted, grinning that customer-service smile.
“Good afternoon, (y/n). I assume work is treating you well?” He said before sliding both his ID and request form through the letter hole. “Only your third day and you’re occupying yourself with side hobbies!” He exclaimed, squinting a little to see my doodle through the glass screen. I chuckled a little as I examined his ID.
“Eh, yeah..” I sighed. “But this actually helps with my job, believe it or not!” I said proudly, pulling out the floor 2 folder to compare his ID number. “I’ve been drawing neighbors in order to remember their features better. It’s especially helpful because of my terrible memory.” I said, shaking my head. Isaack simply chuckled as I placed the folder to the side as I went through his request form.
“That’s pretty smart.” He commented. “Who have you drawn so far?” He asked, curiously tilting his head. As I went through the checklist as I idly thought to myself.
“Umm..” I hummed. “The Schmitts and the Mikaelys are definitely in here.” I finished up the last check before rolling back to my sketchbook, using my finger to thumb through the pages.
“Unfortunate. I haven’t been drawn yet.” He faked pouted. I rolled my eyes before flipping one or two pages before presenting the portrait to him.
“I’m not necessarily finish. Your face is pretty hard to encapture.” I sighed, looking at the smears of led blended together. Isaack was something of a character: a big prominent smile that is not hard to catch a glimpse of in a room full of people. His hair perfectly styled each morning that still manages to maintain its shape by the end of the day. His voice had depth to it, almost like he was born to be the daily news reporter for radios and TVs of all kind. He stared at the drawing in satisfied awe before leaning back.
“Wow, it surely is accurate!” He beamed. I smiled proudly before placing my sketchbook down.
“Thank you,” I politely nodded. I slid his ID back through the letter box. “Everything seems to be good to go. You’re allowed in, Mr. Gauss.” He nodded in his head in gratitude, but however, did not my window just yet. He took a minute to ponder, as if contemplating his next move, before beaming his teeth once again.
“Ah, before I go,” he quickly inputed. “is there by chance Francis Mosses is on today’s list? He’s the local milkman around here.”
I raised my eyebrow a little, not exactly sure as to why Isaack chose to bring up this person’s name. I shook my head gently before folding my arms in front of me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gauss, but I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information for you.”
“—Ah, of course.” Isaack quickly fixed himself, putting his hands up a little in defense. “I understand. I was just curious is all. I’m sure you know him though, no?” Thinking for a minute, I’ve realized that this is a neighbor I have not encountered yet.
“No, actually..” I pondered out loud. “Huh, that’s interesting. I guess he works a morning or night shift because the name doesn’t really ring a bell.” I noted out loud.
“Interesting.” He muttered. “Well, keep the name in mind. He’s a rather interesting person, and I think you would find him just as interesting.” Before I could say anything else, he gestured a quick wink before walking through the unlocked door. I quickly snapped out my thoughts before locking the door back up again.
Isaack never really mentioned other names— it wasn’t necessarily out of character, but it felt a little outlandish. I looked down to see my pencil in hand again and blank surface of paper. My eyes trailed over to the paper taped on to the wall next to my window, realizing that Frances was in fact on today’s check-in list. Out of curiousity, I located his room number before surfing through the folders. After locating folder 3 and apartment 02, I was able to find more about him.
He was a slim, tall man with a crooked nose and ruffled brown hair. His eye bags were prominent from what I assume to be lack of sleep. As I stared at his picture, my hand moved by itself across my sketchbook, forming a circle to start defining out the headshape. I squinted slightly, trying to feel for each detail in his face. From the way his eyebrows were rotated a little outward, defining more of his tired expression, to the bump in his nose bridge, making it a bit more interesting to draw. It was mesmerizing, almost wishing I could sit here and draw his face in perso—
tap, tap!
I nearly jumped out of my seat. The pencil flung out of my hand, rolling off of the desk. My eyes flickered up—
and there he was.
My breath near caught in my throat as I stared up in shock. The man behind the glass was barely shocked to see my reaction. His white “milkman” hat rested perfectly on top of his brown hair with small curls slightly peaking out. I was swift to regain my composure in my head as I folded my hands in front of me with my legs crossed under the desk.
“Good afternoon, sir.” I smiled. “I haven’t seen you before. ID and entry request?”
He let out a small hum, barricaded by his pink lips, as he took out his paper and ID. He politely slid them through the letter slot before I took the items to examine.
“Mr. Francis Mosses.. Lives on floor 03.. Room 02.. Coming from work as a milkman.” I glanced up to look at him, comparing the photo ID to his face. His expression was exactly alike: tired eyes, slight frown on the lips, crooked nose, and a clean shaven face. I double checked with his file already on my desk, making sure that the ID numbers and the description aligned with his ID. “Everything looks good.” I confirmed as I slid his ID back to him.
“Mmm.. Thank you.” He hummed. I turned around to place his request form in a folder, but once I sat back up, I realized he was still standing at the window, curiously staring through the glass. I raised my eyebrow a little, confused as to why he was still lingering.
“I’m sorry, did I forget something?” I asked. Francis shook his head before pointing down at my desk.
“Is that.. Supposed to be me?” He asked. A tiny bit of emotion seeped into his voice, dripping in interest and curiousity.
“I— oh—” I looked down to see the rough drawing of Francis sitting at my desk, drawn with sketch lines still lightly defining his features, while the harder drawn areas sculpted his prominent details. “Yeah..” I mumbled. “I-I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable!” I exclaimed. “It’s just a way to help me remember faces and I was going through the files and I realized I haven’t met you before so I—”
“You make me look so pretty.” He mumbled, almost breathlessly. A faint pink color brushed his cheeks as he was unable to take his gaze away from the paper.
“W-Well.. I do aim for accuracy.” I chuckled, complimenting the man right back. My nerves had calmed down after noticing his calm demeanor. “You could keep it, if you’d like that is.” I offered. It would be awkward if I kept the drawing rather than give it to him— I mean— this is his first time ever seeing me and it was an awkward first interaction right off the bat. It was the least I could do for him. Francis nodded his head and in response, I tore the piece of paper out of the scrapbook before sliding it through the letter slot.
“There you go.” I smiled.
“Thank you..” He replied, graciously taking the piece of paper and admiring it once again. “Oh— um,” He quickly looked up to me. “What is your name? I’m sorry, I’m not really good with.. Introductions.” He trailed off, but something about his shyness and reluctant voice made me grin even harder.
“My name is (y/n). I’m the doorman in training for this building.” I greeted.
“Ah, of course. I’m Francis— Mmm..Though you already know that.” He said, shaking his head a little by the end of his sentence.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Francis. I’ll be seeing you around, I assume?” I said, sitting at the edge of my chair as I looked up at him.
“More often than before.” He smiled. It was the widest he’d grin throughout our whole conversation. Something inside me told me that he doesn’t pass around smiles like that easily. It made me feel accomplished in some sort of way. But with that, he departed from my window. I made sure to unlock the door and listen for the door closing behind him before locking it again.
Francis Mosses.
I think I have someone to look forward to on tomorrow’s entry list.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
really hoped you enjoyed! replies, reblogs, and even likes are super appreciated! thank you so much for reading :]
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pinguwrites · 22 days
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𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔' 𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆 ⸻ Chapter Two
series masterlist. previous chapter. next chapter
𝒑𝙖𝒊𝙧𝒊𝙣𝒈 | francis mosses x reader
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 1.5k
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Warnings: lowkey hating on a girl, mention of church and God bc it's the 50s and that's what they did
A/N: Would you guys rather me upload short chapters frequently or long chapters but it takes more time in between?
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It was twelve in the afternoon, and you hadn’t seen Francis yet. You were worried that something had happened, maybe he got hurt in his apartment, hit his head and was bleeding on the floor, or maybe slipped and sprained an ankle, but you couldn’t just call his number to make sure — that would be unprofessional. Not only that, but the most likely case was that he left earlier than you got to work, which used to happen a lot when you first started working here.
In the meanwhile, you sat at your desk, trying to pass the time. There wasn’t much to do, and you found yourself thinking of Anastacha and what she had said last night. You reasoned with yourself that she was just getting your hopes up high. She was a little girl and didn’t know anything at all. But now that she had said what she said, you couldn’t get it out of your head. The thought of Francis liking you back . . . did he daydream about you like you did? Get nervous when talking to you? When he worked, did he miss your presence?
Ugh. How come he could torture you like this, consume your mind and heart without knowing what he was doing? It wasn’t fair. For once, you’d like for someone else to feel that way about you. To spend their every waking hour, every slumber, feeling the way you did. 
You were snapped out of your thoughts when the elevator bell rang. Attention perked, you hoped that it was Francis, and as if your wish was granted, it was.
He walked out, glancing over at you. You tried to look nonchalant, but inside your worries were relieved. So he was okay. Everything is fine.
Before he could approach you, however, he was blocked by another woman. You internally rolled your eyes as you saw Selenne strike up a conversation with him. The Svertch twins were models, quite famous, actually. They were well-known within the city. The most tiresome part of your job was probably shooing away the paparazzi, convincing them that it was another Selenne and Elenois who lived in Sama Place, not the celebrities they were thinking of. 
Elenois was nice enough. She was a little full of herself, but you were sure that came with the job. After all, if you earned money just because of how pretty you were, you would have an ego as well. But her sister . . . oh, her sister was far worse. She was always rude to staff, making passive-aggressive comments all the time, and you knew for a fact that she didn’t like you. It may have been because you were a woman, and she didn’t like women very much, despite being one herself, but you were sure it had to do with much more than that. 
When you thought about how grateful you were to work in a place like this, you always forgot about Selenne, and how miserable she made you feel. Maybe that was the price of having a reasonably good job. There was always a downside to everything.
You watched as she flirted with Francis. He looked mildly uncomfortable, a little stoic in his expressions, but that was how he always looked. What Anastacha said last night was true — he was nice, but a little aloof. Maybe he was enjoying whatever conversation he was having with Selenne, only it didn’t show on his face. You wondered if that’s how he looked when he was talking to you.
“Ah, there you are!”
You looked to the side and saw your boss approaching you. His name was Samuel Brogan. He was a rather short man, with a tanned complexion and thin lips. He had coarse, straightened hair, and a stubble on his chin. He was the one responsible for hiring you. He owned Sama Place — at least, he was in charge of this specific building. 
“This is where I always am,” you responded, and he laughed. 
“Sorry, darling. I don’t expect a person to be able to sit in that chair all day.”
You gave a polite smile. You never really liked Samuel, call it instinct, but he was your boss, so you had to be nice. 
“You’re not busy this weekend, are you?” he asked, leaning his arms against your desk. Shifting uncomfortably, you glanced over at Francis again, but he was still talking to Selenne.
“I was planning on . . .” Not able to come up with a lie quick enough, you gave up. “Not doing much. I just want to go home and relax — it’s been a long week.”
“Yeah, yeah, I understand. You’ve been a wonderful employee, I want you to have time for yourself.”
You stared. Where was this going?
“But I need you to work this weekend,” he finally said, and your heart dropped.
“I don’t understand. What about that teenager you hired?”
On Saturday, he didn’t need someone working full-time. Sundays were reserved for Church and God, obviously, so for that one day, he hired a kid who was willing to work with little pay to just sit at the desk and make sure everything was going smoothly. 
“He got sick,” Samuel explained. “It’s just an extra day, and it’s only half your usual hours.”
Reluctantly, you agreed. You were sure you wouldn’t get any compensation for it, but it wasn’t that bad. 
“Oh, and I need you to run a few errands for me,” he added, setting down a list of items in front of you. “Whenever you can, but have it by the end of this week.”
He left, and you sighed. 
Picking up the list, you scanned through it. Wallpaper, a toolkit, canned fruit? Surely he didn’t expect you to pay for this out of your own pocket . . .
You folded the note and put it in your pocket, just in time for Francis to approach you. You looked around for Selenne, but she was already walking out of the building with sunglasses.
“What were you two talking about?” you blurted out, feeling immediately ashamed of yourself afterward. What were you thinking asking that kind of question? What would he think of you?
Francis looked taken off guard for a moment, but he answered anyway. “Oh, nothing. What were you and Brogan talking about?”
“Nothing,” you responded pettily. 
It was quiet for a moment, that kind of awkward silence that you hated.
You relented. “Alright, he wants me to work tomorrow, and run some errands. That’s it.”
“Selenne was curious about my work. I told her that I had taken a day off and was going to visit my parents,” he said.
“Now, that wasn’t too difficult, was it?” you teased, reveling in the way he averted his eyes.
“No, ma’am.”
God. The way he said it. He was so beautiful, in every possible way. Sometimes, you wished you could keep him in your room forever.
“Do they live nearby?” you asked. “Your parents, I mean.”
“Somewhat. I’ll be back before nightfall. I’m sorry Brogan is making you work the weekend. If you want, I’ll convince him to change his mind.”
You shook your head. “It’s okay. It’s not like I was planning to do much tomorrow. Just fix some furniture and do a bit of housekeeping.”
“Fix furniture?” he repeated. “I don’t think you should be doing that. You could get hurt.”
You giggled. “I’m not a dainty princess.”
He frowned. “I know. I don’t mean to undermine you. You’re a very capable woman. It’s just that . . . I would feel better if someone was there to help you.”
“Mhm. And who’s gonna do that?”
Francis looked up at you with expectant eyes. “I’m free Sunday.”
You paused, not believing what he was saying. Was he offering to come over to your place? Him? Inside your house? The place you slept and changed your clothes and took baths . . . Lord, you didn’t know if you could handle this intimacy. Was it even right? Oh, who were you kidding? You didn’t care if it was acceptable or not. If Francis was offering to spend time with you (help you fix furniture, but whatever) there was no way you were going to turn down that offer. 
“Yes,” you said, more eagerly than you liked. “I could give you my address and you could stop by around eleven?”
He smiled. “Mmm. Alright, then,” he agreed. “I look forward to seeing you.”
“Me too.”
He gave a slight tip of his hat, a motion you could have fainted at had you not been sitting on a chair, and left, leaving you with nothing but the anticipation of this Sunday.
Imagine him — shirtless as he nails screws and lifts planks of wood. I’d give him cool lemonade as he worked and watch him as he wipes the sweat from his forehead . . . For the rest of the day, you couldn’t get the image out of your head. You greeted your neighbors as they walked by, and helped the occasional person with a problem, but all that was floating around in your head was Francis, Francis, Francis.
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Taglist: @Meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008
186 notes · View notes
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Something More Between Us (The Milkman x GN Reader)
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Author's Note: A short draft that was playing in my mind because of the milkman on TikTok. I hope you enjoy.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 781
The clock marked 9 p.m., marking the end of my shift as a doorman at the apartment complex where I live. I stretched out on the chair and sighed. At the same time, the other doorman comes through the door to take my place and start his shift.
“Hey, (Y/N), how was your day?” he asked as he started to unpack his things.
“A little tiring, to be honest. Had four residents, plus two without an entry request, and caught six doppelgangers, some more violent than others, but it comes with the job, I suppose.” I said as I packed my things.
“I’m lucky to be on the night shift” he smiled. “I only have three tenants on the list, and according to the DDD all the tenants are in the building except for those.”
“Don’t be careless. Our lives are at stake here.” I warned. “But, you’re right, you’re lucky.” I smiled.
I quickly scanned his list for the night and my heart skipped a beat. Francis name was there, I assume he left for his job as a milkman and, if I remember correctly from my night shifts, he was one of the first to arrive. 
When I started working as a doorman as well as living at the building, one of the perks was to get to know the people who lived in the same space. I always thought that Francis was good-looking, even with those tired eyes. However, even if we do chat a bit at the door or on the occasional bump in the corridors, we never really moved past that. He is a very reserved person and prefers to keep things private, I get that, plus he never seamed that interested in me.
As I was lost in thought, I heard two voices in the entrance lobby and realised my colleague was gathering all the folders to check the information.
“Mmm… Hello” I heard Francis say through the door.
“Good evening mister Mosses” greeted the doorman. “Let’s see…”
I resume my packing, picking up some final things left and reaching for the keys to my apartment.
“All good! You may go.”
“Perfect.”
The second voice reached for the window, “Good evening.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Looking good as always Mr. Gauss”
Once I had everything I left for my own apartment. When I reach the elevator, I saw that Francis was holding the door.
“Oh, thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, “Izaack is also coming so I thought I might wait for both.”
I joined in and backed up against the wall, standing next to him.
“Our prettiest doorman is joining us today, its always a pleasure walking with you” Izaack mentioned as the door shuts, “Did you think about my proposal?”
I sighed for what seems like the thousandth time today. “I am not interested in going on a date with you, thanks.”
“Oh, come on, (Y/N).” He insisted. “It’s going to be fun, I promise. And I’m not just talking about dinner, you know?”
He stepped closer to me. Suddenly, I felt slightly trapped in that elevator. I tried to move further back, but I was already up against the wall. Isaack started to raise his hand to grab me by the chin and possibly bring me even closer to him. However, it didn't come to that. A body came between me and the raised hand.
“Geez, Francis, relax” Isaack chuckled. “I was just messing arround.”
The doors to the elevator opened on the second floor. Isaack was walking out into the corridor, but looked back before the doors closed again.
“You sure can be scary when you’re angry Mosses” He gave that characteristic smile of his. “See you tomorrow.”
The doors closed and Francis moved out of the way.
“Thank you” I whispered to him.
“Hm.” He raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, if he ever bothers you again liked that, let me know, ok?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Francis” I said while massaging the back of my neck “He's infuriating, that’s true, and persistent, but I can deal it him.”
The elevator reached the third floor.
“I mean it.” He said while leaving to his apartment. “I… I do worry about you.”
I was about to put the key in the door when I suddenly stopped and looked at him. He stared at me with his tired but expectant eyes.
"I didn't know..." An embarrassed but broad smile appeared on my face "Thank you, Francis, I care about you too, a lot."
He nodded and gave a small smile, turning and heading for his apartment. 
After all, there might be something more between us than I thought.
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shockedemojiatsv · 25 days
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herozdiary · 1 month
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Milk and cookies
Francis x reader
This diary entry contains…Mentions of baking|Baker reader|Francis being a cutie pie|established relationship|Short little idea i had sitting in the back of my mind|Francis being good at baking|Mlikman x baker is such a cute trope idea lowkey|i should make longer writings
A/N:WOWOWO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE FIRST FRANCIS WRITING🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
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“Milk…butter…sugar..blah blah blah” Francis had muttered to himself as he went over the recipe list. He wanted to make cookies too take his mind off of things going on.
The both of you were like the baker and the milkman duo. People loved seeing you too together because of how cute you are. It was a fresh breathe of air to see a happy couple in these times. With dopplegangers roaming around the area.
You became familiar with the new door guard. They always greeted you with a smile as they went over your paperwork before allowing you in. " You know, It's something about you that just tells me it's the real you. " The doorman said before shrugging. You smiled at them before venturing up to your shared apartment with francis.
Today you didn't do much at the bakery. you only sold a couple of things you made earlier that week but it was a slow day. You pulled out your keys as just pushed them into the keyhole. pushing the door open and closing it after walking in, The smell of fresh baked cookies hit your nose. You smiled as you slipped off your shoes.
you poked your head into the kitchen to find francis looking over a baking tray with cookies spread out across them. He seemed to be whispering something to himself as he poked at one before hissing slightly.
" This is why we let things cool off before we touch them!" You said as you rushed over. Francis turned away slightly as you took his hand into yours before looking over it. "Well it seems nothing bad happened" You say while blowing on it and kissing his finger.
" I wanted to try and make something to take my mind off of things going on now." He said while looking at the tray. "Maybe you should leave that to me." You say while looking over the cookies before smiling and nodding. "But you did a good job! Did you buy the dough at the store or something?" You asked.
"Nope. Made them by scratch. I saw you had some recipes laying around so i followed them" He admitted. You smiled as you placed a small kiss on his cheek.
"Im proud of you! You did it the exact way i do" You say as you grab one. You take a bite before smiling some more. "Taste the same way." You say as you finish it off. Francis smiled as he felt proud from the praise.
"Thanks...But i think you always make them better" Francis said while leaning on the counter. "I think they taste the same. But you know...i thought you would bring some milk out that we can dunk the cookies in."You say as you open the fridge to a bottle of milk.
"I forget that milk and cookies go together"Francis muttered as he watched you pour two glasses of milk.You grabbed a plate and began to plate the cookies before placing them onto the kitchen counter.
"When you think about it, we go together like milk and cookies" You joked as you dip a cookie into your cup of milk. Francis rolled his eyes before chuckling at your joke. "Because of our jobs?" He asked as he picked up one of the cookies and took a small nibble out of it.
the rest of the afternoon was filled with the both of you finishing off the plate and having a milk drinking contest. Of course Francis won since he spent most of his days drinking cold bottles of milk.
But at the end of the day, The two of you went together like milk and cookies.
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