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#Tnmn smut
paymechildsupport · 2 months
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"You're not my Husband..." // Doppel!Francis x Reader 🐄🩸
@cassanderasblog --> Thanks for the request <3
-!! CW: Dubcon (in a sense), – Brief mention of murder, – Very slight body horror
-!! Very brief size kink 
Spouse!Reader x doppelgänger!Francis  
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“You’re not Francis.” The words are sharp, punctuated, your glare burning straight through the mimic of a man in your living room
“No, I’m not,” The creature grins- if you could even call it that–, mouth a waning black chasm, no teeth, no tongue, nothing. How this thing managed to bypass the doormen you had no clue,-- how could someone fuck up this bad? 
“Francis’s” eyes darken, – literally. The whites turn into an inky black, eery small spheres of light peeking out where his pupils should be. 
Oh dear. 
The wired phone you keep on the kitchen counter goes off behind you. Glancing once more at your “husband” you slowly back track, hand inching to the phone. 
He just watches as you hesitantly pick up the ringing phone, making a click when it’s pulled from its cover. 
“Attention, this is the D.D.D, – we detected an unknown life force near your residency. Please, do not panic. Keep your door locked and do not approach anyone of suspicion. If you see anything weird, do not investigate. Dispatchers are coming to your location to liquidate the threat”   – Well, it was a little late for that. 
“... cancel dispatch” your lips form the words slowly. There’s silence on the other end, 
“Excuse me?... you want dispatch–” 
“Discharged. Threat neutralized.” 
Even “Francis” is stunned, – staring at you, unblinking, – flabbergasted. 
“‘Got it under control, thanks,” You hang up before they can answer, placing the phone back in its place. 
“Francis” just stares.
-
“You’re a doppelgänger , right?” 
“Perhaps.” His eyes narrow
“Alrighty then, prove it.” 
Unzips. 
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“Francis” stares, wide eyed, gaze fixed upon the water stains on your ceiling. Even with all the lights off, he can still see your snoozing frame tangled in the sheets beside him, (perks of being non-human). 
Your chest rose and fell with each breath, the movement captivating whatever posed as your husband. 
Your body looked serene, the faint light emitted from his glowing pupils illuminating your chest. 
“Ahah-!” You were practically in hysterics, tears flowing down your rosy cheeks, nails raking into the headboard of your bed. “Francis” could only lie there, enamored by your blissful expression as unfamiliar sparks of pure pleasure coiled inside, heating everything up until it was practically molten. 
“Mmph-!” you choke off your moans, slapping a hand to your mouth lest your neighbors hear you impaling yourself on your husband’s doppelgänger 's cock. 
You swivel your hips, his eyes widening; no one’s ever ridden him like you are, – no one’s ridden him period. You were surprised the doppelgänger  even had a dick, – let alone it being almost twice the size of the actual Francis’. You had stuffed yourself full of him, bouncing mercilessly. Your husband had neglected you horribly in the past,-- never coming home, always giving you the cold shoulder, even when you had gotten down and begged for him to look at you, just once –your thirst for intimate touch was at an all time high. 
“Francis” grunted, surprised at how wonderful this new sensation was. The delicious heat in his stomach bubbled over, bottoming out through his cock. Your eyes widened at the warm sensation of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You had to bend down, biting deeply into his shoulder to stifle the screams lodged in your throat. 
You inhaled deeply, desperately trying to catch your breath as “Francis” could only glance over, the slight pain in his shoulder from your teeth barely bothering him, (because, well, one, you were the only one who could breathe and two, he wasn’t human). Your head turns, sloppily kissing him on the cheek, to his absolute shock. 
“Francis” brings his right arm to his left shoulder, fingers gingerly grazing the marks left by your teeth. It still tingled. 
He looks over at your slumbering frame again, now tentatively reaching the same arm in your direction, hesitantly touching your peaceful face. You do not stir, so he continues downward, fingers carefully glazing over your nose, your mouth, your jaw, and finally stopping at your neck, your pulse vibrating through his hand. Humans were so interesting, he thought, – and you had just grabbed his interest by the throat with a viselike grip. 
He gently tucks a stray piece of hair plastered to your sweat slicked forehead behind your ear, grinning in that creepily endearing way of his. How the original Francis lucked out, – he almost felt bad about killing and devouring his corpse, – almost. How could he have fumbled so badly, – you were an absolute treasure, and “Francis” was now determined to keep you all to himself. 
Such a greedy little creature. 
… You’re never going to be able to get rid of him after this. 
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(requests for more Francis, -- doppelgänger or no, -- are open and very much appreciated !)
I love him a normal amount I swear 🙏🙏🙏
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notmyneighbor · 29 days
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Special Delivery - Doppelganger Francis Mosses x Female Reader
Word Count - 3.3k
Rating - Explicit
CW - masturbation, oral sex
Also available on AO3
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You’re being followed.
You’re out later than you’d intended, but there had been a lot of requests that day. Word was spreading. You were getting quite the reputation among the doppelgängers.
Imagine, a human who was betraying her own kind, making forged documents to help the invaders into DDD restricted areas.
You don’t even feel guilty about it, either, because what has any human ever done for you? You’ve been on your own since as far back as you can remember, dealt a bad hand early in life. This scheme you’ve concocted pays well. Better than any of the other less savory things you’ve had to do to supplement your income, and it came with an added bonus: you knew how to write in the alien’s language as well, the symbols you inscribe on the frame of your apartment door and workspaces guaranteeing you’ll be exempt from harm.
Maybe you could’ve done something with your artistic and linguist skills if you’d had the opportunity, but alas, this was your lot in life. Making the best of a less than ideal situation.
You deviate your course a few times, just to make certain you’re still being pursued. Yes, he’s still trailing you. You’re certain it’s male but you’re not pausing long enough to discern more than that. Well, fuck.
You take another detour. Perhaps not the best decision in hindsight. You’re further away from home now. You don’t recognize the street you’re on. There’s a delivery truck parked on the side of the road. Dairy. Should you try to hide inside? The door was open. Where was the driver? You consider your options. No one would admit you into their house at this hour, and why should they, when you’ve been selling out all your neighbors? The truck, then. Your stalker’s footsteps still sounded a fair distance away. It was your only chance at this point. Maybe you could find something to mark the symbols. If there was still time.
The step to enter the truck is high. You have to ungraciously hoist yourself inside, clinging desperately to the sides to balance your weight. Made it. Your nose wrinkles. There’s a faintly sour smell. Spoiled products. The keys are in the ignition. A feeling of foreboding washes over you. The street lamp nearby barely illuminates the interior of the vehicle. You’re afraid to go into the back. You can’t see anything you can use to write the protection phrase. Your breath saws in and out. Too loud. You’re making too much noise.
A foot on the steel step makes you whirl around. It’s your pursuer. Dressed as a milkman, but you know instantly it’s not. Replicant. Deceiver. The clone of whatever human he’s copying. He’d chosen a handsome one, though you doubt it had anything to do with appearances, more a matter of convenience. Broad shouldered. Narrow waisted. He lifts himself into the truck with practiced ease. You’re so fucked.
Dark eyes and hair. Pale skin. He blocks the light from outside as he crowds you further inside. Well, you couldn’t say you’d had a good run, but you’d done your best. You close your eyes. You don’t want to see the teeth emerge before he devours you.
“What are you doing in here?”
Your eyes fly open again. He hasn’t advanced any further. He wanted to talk? Play with his food before he ate it? Maybe he wasn’t hungry. Mabe you could talk your way out of this.
“I…I got lost on the way home.”
“You’re lying.” No malice behind those words, just an observation.
“I heard you following me. I know what you are,” you admit, then instantly regret it. Stupid girl.
“I know who you are, too. You’re the one who makes the ID’s and entry requests.”
“Business hours are Monday through Friday, 8am to 5pm.” Were you seriously being flippant with a doppelgänger? You give a little chuckle to show you’re joking around, but the noise sounds more like a dying hyena, slightly panicked and hysterical.
“Those hours don’t work for me.”
“Oh.” So he was a prospective customer then? “Cash up front, half in advance, the rest on delivery. Currently working this week behind the abandoned grocery store off of Burke Street. I have to rotate the site to, you know…”
“I’ll pay extra,” he adds. “For the inconvenience of the hour and short notice.”
You lick your lips at the prospect of making additional funds. What would be fair to charge? “You need it right now? What’s the hurry?”
“Are you able to do it or not?” This now laced with irritation. His patience and good graces were wearing thin already. Best not to ire him further. You’re lucky to still be alive.
“Yeah, I can do it.”
“I’ll drive us there, then.”
“Where am I supposed to sit?” You glance around the front of the cabin. There’s only one seat for the driver.
You see his shoulders raise and lower in a shrug before he sits behind the wheel. You suppose your only choice is to sit on the floor.
“Your truck reeks,” you say, that sour smell assaulting your nostrils again as you lower yourself down.
The engine rumbles to life. “Deliveries didn’t get made today.”
“Did you…” You’re wondering what happened to the original, human operator of the vehicle. Had he suffered some grim fate? Were his remains sitting in the doppelgänger’s gut, being digested at this very moment? You shudder at the unpleasant thought.
He glances down at you. “No. I simply duplicated his form and stole the truck. You humans leave your body substances everywhere,” he says, lifting the cap off his head and tossing it onto the dashboard. “This one perspired all over that.”
That was all it took for a doppel to replicate a human. Just a little bit of something from the original. Sweat. Blood. Mucus. Probably other, even more unsavory substances, too.
It’s uncomfortable on the floor. The truck’s suspension jostles you roughly. Luckily you don’t have far to go. The driver eases behind the abandoned brick building, shutting off the headlamps. There are no functioning street lights in this part of town. You’re shrouded in darkness.
The doppel stands and you struggle to your feet, reluctantly accepting the hand he offers you to assist you to your feet. You’ve never touched one of the invaders directly before. It feels normal. Just like a human. You’re not sure if that makes it better or worse.
You’ve been working out of the manager’s office in the rear of the store. You’ve got an actual set of keys, pilfered once you’d broken into the building. Another of your talents, that. Breaking and entering. An additional skill this unfair life has made you adept at.
You’re not used to being here so late. It’s amazing no one’s realized the building is still on the electrical grid. You’re grateful for the mistake, switching on the light in the back hallway after feeling blindly for the switch. The doppel is just behind you. You unlock the office door and hit another light switch, sighing in relief. That was better. Familiar territory. No longer in darkness.
But there’s an anxious invader at your back, and that knowledge is less than comforting. You sit down in the office chair behind the steel desk and he settles into the hardbacked one across from you.
“So, um…about the fee.”
Without a word the alien digs into his pants pocket, extracting several bills from a wallet and sliding them over to you. “Will that be sufficient?”
You’re trying to keep a straight face. Where did he get this much money? “Yes, that’s fine. Do you…do you have a home address for the individual?”
Delving back into the wallet, he now produces a car registration. Francis Mosses. You recognize the area he resides in. A better part of town than the one you’re living in, but maybe someday you could change that.
Although, you’re about to make that area a lot less safe, you think, pulling the necessary tools out of the large bottom desk drawer, including a DDD logo stamp. That had been the hardest item to acquire. The rest were fairly routine.
“I need to take a picture. Do you just want to get that over with now?” He nods. “Can you stand in front of the door? It’s a good blank background.” Another nod as you stand. He closes the office door and positions himself, waiting for you to snap the Polaroid. Damn, he really is attractive. Exactly your type. You don’t even mind the little bend at the bridge of his nose or the shadows under his eyes. You take several pictures, one for the ID card and one for the entry request, with some extras just for…well, maybe just to have options if the others didn’t turn out well.
You’re not used to being watched while you work.
You typically have the doppels come back to pick the forgeries up later. These dark eyes watch your every movement like a hawk, from the way you print onto the request form to the drag of the scalpel blade around two of the photographs(they had all come out fine), carefully affixing them to both documents. You roll the stamp in the black ink pad and press it gently but firmly into each corner, waving a hand over the fresh ink to help it dry.
“You’re skilled at this,” he murmurs appreciatively, and your head lifts to meet his gaze. “I see why you come so highly recommended.”
“It’s not like there’s any competition,” you say, feeling a flush creep into your cheeks over the praise.
“True. Not many humans would betray their own kind, would they?”
Your lips press into a thin line of displeasure. You didn’t need the reminder. Was he mocking you?
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure you have your reasons.”
Somewhat mollified, you glance down at your work. It still looked a little moist. You need it to be completely dry before you apply the lamination to seal it in permanently.
The copycat is still staring at you. You, not the documents you’re working on. You clear your throat. “I want to make sure they’ve dried properly.”
“Of course.”
“It’ll just be a few minutes.”
“I don’t mind the wait.”
You lean back and the swivel chair creaks. Your shoulders are aching. You’d made a lot of forgeries today. Too much time spent hunched over the desk. Your eyes are a little sore, too, dry and burning. You needed a bath and maybe a snack and bed. Forget dinner. That sounded too complicated at this hour.
“You’re tired,” he observes.
“It’s been a long day.”
“I am inconveniencing you greatly, aren’t I?”
He doesn’t sound remorseful, exactly. You don’t know what he sounds like. It’s too difficult to process. You’re exhausted, that post adrenaline rush from earlier really depleting the last stores of energy. You don’t even think you’d protest if he decided to turn on you right now, taking the goods and making a meal out of you before he ran. The symbols are more of a professional courtesy than anything. It’s not like it actually prevented the doppels from physically being able to attack.
The legs of the chair he’s seated in drag across the dirty linoleum flooring, making a loud scraping sound. You watch warily as he comes around the desk, easing past a filing cabinet to reach your side.
“We haven’t really negotiated the full price yet, have we?”
Oh. Was that what was happening? He was going to stiff you. Suddenly that advance amount no longer seemed so generous. That was to be your total payment. Honestly, you should have been more demanding.
“I have more money,” he says, immediately canceling out your previous assumption, “but I don’t think that’s what you need most right now.”
“You’re right. I should be at home in the bathtub. Or better yet bed,” you add.
His hand reaches for the edge of the chair, turning you fully to face him. The abrupt movement catches you by surprise.
“Maybe what you really need is some good old fashioned milk.” His hand closes over your wrist, dragging your hand towards what you’ve somehow missed previously. He’s hard. Like full on, bulging, fit to burst out of his trousers. You should be terrified. You are scared, kind of. But turned on. Stupidly aroused because you haven’t had anyone give you this kind of attention in who knows how long. Sex had just kind of fallen by the wayside for you. There was so much else that needed to be accounted for.
You watch the hand pulling the leather strap of the imposter milkman’s belt in wonder, as if you can’t quite reconcile it’s your own doing this. Its partner joining, thumbing the button of the fly through the slot and parting the metal teeth below into a wicked grin. You shove the waistband of his briefs down and his cock springs free, flushed and thick and oozing precum. You stare at that clear bead of fluid as if hypnotized. Your mouth waters. You want it. You want to suck this creature dry.
Your tongue swipes over the crown of his erection and the doppel hums in pleasure. “Good girl,” he says encouragingly, and the praise sends heat right between your legs, your pussy tingling in response. You’re no longer thinking about your unfinished work on the desk beside you, about how dangerous it is to be alone with a doppelgänger in an abandoned building at night. You’re instead wondering how much of that dark pink length you’re going to be able to voluntarily sample before your gag reflex interrupts and he’s forced to fuck into your throat manually. Your sex throbs again. Time to stop wondering and find out.
Your lips close over the head and begin sliding over the shaft. Clean musk. A better flavor than perhaps you’d anticipated. You take a few experimental bobs, testing. He’s stretching you already. Your lips. The fat head bumping your cheeks, your soft palate. His fingers are in your hair, combing through the tresses with a strange kind of tenderness.
“So good. You’re so talented…”
You whimper a little, trying to reach more of him. There it is. That natural barrier of your body’s resistance. You struggle against it until you’re forced to withdraw, coughing and gasping, leaving a trail of thick saliva behind. You give yourself a brief respite, stroking the slick fluids over his prick. It makes a lewd squelching sound every time you massage the shaft. You can feel your arousal leaking between your legs, saturating your panties. You reach under your skirt, no longer caring about how depraved you appear. It’s a relief when your fingers make contact with your clit, dragging that wetness around the nub in frantic circles.
“That’s a good girl. Touch that pussy. It feels good, doesn’t it? So good…”
Your mouth engulfs his cock again. You roll your lips inward and massage the length in short bursts. Now relaxing and planting soft, passionate kisses on the tip. You spit on it and slurp up the liquid noisily. You like the sounds the doppel is making. You’ve never liked the men who were quiet, reserved. This invader isn’t holding back. He moans and groans and hisses. His teeth catch his bottom lip. His head tips back when the ecstasy of the blow job gets to be a bit overwhelming. And you love every minute of it. You savor every sound and gesture as you perform the obscene act while masturbating, grinding your swollen bundle of nerve endings against your pubic bone.
“You’re hungry, honey, aren’t you? Starving. I’ve got what you need, darling.” The nails of the hand you have curled around his hip dig into the cotton and polyester blended fabric of his uniform pants as you push yourself even further down his length, this time bruising your throat. You ignore the discomfort, grateful when the hand in your hair finally tightens and you feel him begin to fuck your mouth, battering the rear of that moist cavern over and over. “You want a drink, baby? You ready for it?”
You hum in agreement and he eases up, withdrawing until just the head of that thick phallus sits on the tip of your tongue. You’re panting, moaning, frantic for his release perhaps even more than your own.
“Here you go, sweetheart.” A couple of swipes along the shaft and that brief pumping is enough to send him over the edge, thick pulses of cum now spraying the inside of your mouth, pooling on the wedge of muscle his dick rests against. There’s a lot. An absurd amount. You can feel it leaking from the corners of your mouth. Bitter, but not the worst you’ve tasted. Sheer coincidence your body decides to shatter the instant you swallow that load, forcing that creamy baby batter down your gullet while your pussy spasms against your relentless finger.
“There you go, baby. Good girl.”
The milkman’s doppel bends to kiss you, surprising you with the gesture, now of all times, licking your face clean before thrusting his tongue between your lips and you crash right into another orgasm, moaning and twitching while the imposter fucks your mouth with his tongue.
Truly wrung out now, you collapse against the back of the chair, your chest heaving. The doppelgänger refastens his pants, but not before you notice it looks like he could go another round soon, and oh, doesn’t that make your cunt throb again in spite of being so recently satisfied, twice no less.
It takes great effort to smooth your skirt and your mussed hair back into some semblance of order, returning your attention to the documents that are certainly ready by now, the ink well set. The doppelgänger doesn’t return to his seat, instead remaining beside you, watching as the final protective layer is applied.
“There you go. Finished.” You glance up to see the doppel’s gaze fixed on you again, the money forgotten in his hand.
“Maybe…maybe we could work out a deal for the remainder of the payment.”
Your heart speeds up a little. “I’m listening.”
“Maybe I could make special deliveries. To your residence. For as long as it takes to cancel the debt.”
You hum, pretending to consider the offer even though you already know what your answer will be. “What happens after that?”
“We can renegotiate the terms when the time comes.”
“Interesting.”
“Interesting as in you want to think it over, or…interesting as in you definitely want more?” He bends to kiss you again. Gentler this time, but no less appealing.
“The latter.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” He sets the cash on the desk. “Consider that a tip then, for a job well done.”
You’re not going to argue with that. You hurriedly put everything away and lock the office again, soon finding yourself back outside next to the truck.
“Are you walking home, or do you want a ride?”
You weigh the discomfort of being on the floor in the smelly vehicle against walking home alone at an even riskier hour, where an encounter with another doppel would most assuredly not go as pleasantly.
“I’ll take the ride. But you need to clean the truck out.”
“I’ll do it in the morning.”
“The real milkman must have caught hell losing all these orders and the company car,” you murmur as you return to your former position inside the vehicle.
“Not my problem.”
“Every man for himself, right?” You can hardly condemn the attitude, given your current career choice.
“Exactly.” A flash of teeth in the darkness. He steals another kiss before starting the engine, bending low to capture your lips.
You’re delivered safely to your apartment building minutes later, personally escorted by the cloned milkman.
“I’ll bring you your next delivery tomorrow night, hmm?”
“Okay.” He’s standing so close. It takes just the slightest lean for him to kiss you again.
“Unless, of course, you wanted another advance…”
You shove the door you’ve already unlocked open, inviting the doppelgänger inside.
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tarantulasnot · 23 days
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Francis mosses is just a milkman, a nobody. But you were a something he wanted, and what's the difference between wants and needs?
CW: weed usage, hair pulling, cum eating, elongated tongue, misuse of shape shifting, Francis is a shy little freak, sub Francis, marking, reader gets stoned and gets an idea,
It's gonna be... 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 👅
You were so nice for a creature. Your smile, although a bit sharp was so mesmerizing. Your morning greetings were so pleasant, and genuinely made his day. He was so lonely, and you're small acts of kindness made him develop a small crush on you.
"Are you alright Francis? Your eyes have been getting darker." He'd shrug, however delighted that you'd noticed. "Mmm... Long shifts." You gave him a sympathetic look, and he looked the other way. "Come over tonight. I have something that might help."
So he came to you that night. He had changed out of his uniform into his button up pajamas, (1950s pajamas are Ebeneezer Scrooge couture okay 😭 lets act like that's sexy), and he approached your door, knocking on it.
Within a few seconds you had opened the wooden door, gazing at him with a smile. "Oh you're here already?" Another smile, it's like you're the original, but so much nicer. "Mmm, need all the help I can get." Your eyes scan him up and down and he shudders, but you shake your head, inviting him. "Take a seat on the couch, I'll be with you in a second." He does as told, but he's so stiff about it. Awkwardly sitting with perfect posture, his legs spread apart, and tapping his thigh anxiously. You return with a soft blanket and a two cups of hot cocoa, and two neatly rolled joints between your fingers. "Oh don't be so rigid, darling."
Fuck if only you knew the things you did to him. "Mmm, sorry about that." Francis apologizes, but you're quick to dismiss it. "I don't want to hear any of that." Settling down to his right, you pull out your lighter, and set the cups of warmed chocolate on the nightstand beside you. "Have you ever smoked weed, Francis?" The way you asked the question was so casual, that he looked almost taken back (this is the 1950s guys.)
"Mmm, well no." He glanced nervously at the joint in your hand as you set the end aflame, pulling on it once and holding the cocoa in your hand. You exhale the smoke and quickly take a swig. "I heard the coughing hurts."
You laugh, and it almost sounds like you're making fun of him. Once again, your teeth flash at him, and he swallows. Francis wonders how they would feel on his neck, his collarbone, his thighs... "Here," Lifting the other mug in your hand, you pass it to him. "If you exhale after a moment and drink this really fast you won't cough as much, if at all." He takes the drink, and sets it in his lap. However his attention is back in you and the way your lips curl around the blunt. You look so graceful about it.
"Here." You pass the joint to him between two fingers, and he copies you. "Now just take a small hit, this is your first time after all." The milkman nods, pressing his lips to it, and of course he doesn't listen. He barely feels it go down so after a solid 5 seconds you press your fingers to his lips and take the weed from him. "That's enough for you big fella."
Francis blows the white cloud from his lunge, and after a solid second of not feeling anything, he gets a scratchy burning feeling, and immediately sips on the cocoa. Afterwards he starts coughing, but it's not as bad as it would be without the drink. "H-Holy shit..." He manages in between coughs. "Damn that..." Francis leans back, his brain already starting to feel the effects. "That hits."
You chuckle lowly, taking another couple of puffs before passing it back to him. He goes through the cycle again before finally both of you are at a good high.
His eyes are dropped, eyelids lowered as he gazes at the wall. "Francis." You whisper, grabbing his attention, and suddenly he's locked in on you. Your hair, your lips, your eyes. God you're just a sight to behold.
"How are you feeling." He blinks at you, before smiling. "I feel great." He whispers. "Really good."
He moves a little closer, pulling the blanket further over himself. "Why haven't I done this before?" He leans his head back against the back of the couch, sighing. You can't help but appreciate the proximity. "Ummm..." He smells good, like deep cologne and the hint of flower in the air. "I don't know, but I'm glad you're feeling this good." Your hand goes to his thigh, landing on his knee and he shudders.
You had to be doing this in purpose. He felt his heart beating faster, and his body felt heavy. The way your fingertips glided over his knee to the center of his thigh, he wanted your hand just a bit further up. He wanted your hands everywhere. Really, he couldn't help it. His eyes fluttered shut as you kept running your hand over his thigh and he sighed heavily. "(Y/N)..." He whispered under his breath, and you took your hand away. You didn't want to push it, or do anything he didn't want.
You would have been an idiot to not notice that Francis had taken an interest in you. His flushed glances as you complimented him on his appearance, even if he was disheveled; or, when you touched his arm as a thank you for helping when you had "accidentally" knocked one of the bottles down.
"Are you alright, darling?" That nickname again, he parted his lips to speak. He wanted to be your darling, he had for a while. "I do like when you call me that." He admitted slowly, and his eyes sifted opened to peer at you. "Do you call anyone else darling?" He asked so innocently, but with a smidge of potential envy. "I don't." You reply simply, and you turn to face him fully. He returns the gesture, and now he's inches away from your face. "Mmm... So I'm your darling then?" He stated as though it were fact, speaking aloud.
Right in front of his eyes this time, your right hand drifts down to his thigh, and he twitches. "Mmm, don't do this to me." He wrenches his eyes from the scene back to you.
"What's the matter Francis?" It's his upper thigh this time that you graze, and it drives him to a point of no return. Already his pants are swelling with the thoughts he can't say, and if it weren't for the thickness of the blanket you would have seen it. However, you can feel the heat radiating from it. "Is there something wrong?"
Francis puts a hand over his eyes, he doesn't want to admit it, but he's already so painfully hard, a bead of precum staining his boxers and all you've done is pet his thigh. "Mmm... No- no." He shakes his head, and he nearly lurches out of his skin when all of a sudden your hand grazes over the spot that's affected the most. "Fuck- I just-" Francis mumbles, his hips chasing the contact, the stiffened member behind the clothing twitching beneath your ministrations. "Please-"
You don't deny him any further. You set your mugs to the side and crawl into his lap, and attach your lips to his. It's like a finely tuned instrument, both of you in sync, your hips moving over his slowly, and your kisses in the same agonizing rhythm.
He tries kissing you sweetly, this is the first time, but he can't control himself that well when it comes to this. "mmm- mm!" Your sharpened teeth bite his bottom lip, and he whines at the sting. But fuck he wants it, he wants those teeth to sinking into his neck, he wants the marks, he wants it all.
So you can't blame him when he grabs your hips and bucks into them, his eyes squeezed shut as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. Only to lose when your much longer one, which he hadn't noticed before, fills his. Your mixed saliva drops down his chin and he starts fully thrusting against you practically, his hands on your waist and your assisted pressure. "oh fuck- fuck-" he parts from the kiss to groan into your shoulder, and he sits down, begging into your ear while you did all the work. "Feels so good-"
Francis had been so lonely, so pent up. "Mmm more-" He pleaded, but you felt like being a little cruel to him. He could take it.
Your hand pulls his hair backwards and his hips jerk, a long moan escaping his throat. "You want more?" Your hips went faster and his eyebrows furrowed upwards, sweat at his hairline as you relentlessly dug your hips into him. "Huh, darling?"
The grip you had on his hair was just tight enough to ache and when you shook him around a little bit he couldn't stop himself from crying out. "yes!" He gasped, and suddenly he admitted what he wanted. "Please I want your fucking teeth in my neck- I want your tongue on my chest and-" he didn't even need to say it for you to know what he meant, because he keeps dragging his hips over yours when he has the mind to.
You quickly ripped his shirt open, and he shuddered when you let go of his hair. His tired eyes watched you get on your knees in front of him, his lip pulled between his teeth as you immediately peppered his neck with kisses.
I'm too lazy
@the-lazyyy-artist
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dilucs-princess · 15 days
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The sweet taste of milk
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Pairing: Doppelganger Francis x afab reader
words: 1,147
warnings: fem!reader (no pronouns but fem anatomy), sub!Francis, slapping, unrealistic sex (no prep), slight mommy kink, overstimulation
reblogs > likes
@b-ella-donn-a
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Francis Mosses was on his knees, staring up at you. You have no idea how you got in this situation, peering at him through the window. "Please," He breaths, clasping his hands together. "Please let me in.. I-I'll be a good boy... I'll serve you so well, miss, please..."
You could only watch, mouth hanging open in shock as you watch Francis. Was it Francis? Was it a doppel? You weren't even sure but the way he was begging was so beautifully and so needy, you had to rub your own thighs together.
Your hand reached towards the open button and Francis basically sobbed with relief, crawling his way towards you. You could tell he was so, so needy! You couldn't help but laugh as he crawled into your office.
He sat back on his knees, a cute little bulge forming at the front of his trousers, you reached your foot out to press down on it gently and he keened, choking back a desperate moan.
His disguise was starting the slip. Sharp teeth and a long tongue, red eyes, rimmed with gold. You grinned.
This is what you wanted. You gestured the poor doppelganger to stand up. "Strip," You commanded. And he did it as fast as his shaking and trembling hands allowed him. He folded his shirt and trousers, placing his hat and bow tie on top.
He was left in his boxers and shivered when you licked your lips. "Delectable... Truly, a pleasant sight to behold.." You murmured, standing up. You clicked your fingers and pointed to the chair, he rushed over to sit down.
'What a good boy..'
You chuckled, shaking your head as you ran a hand through his hair and he leaned into the touch. You leant down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, kissing across his jaw and slowly down his neck and chest.
You moved to straddle his lap and he gasped when your body made contact with his hard dick. Even through his final layer and your clothes, he desperately rutted up but you slapped him and he stopped immediately. He sobbed softly, he was so desperate for release! He needed to cum so bad - and you hadn't done anything!
A soft chuckle left you at his pathetic state and you lowered your head to wrap around his nipple, gently sucking on it whilst your other hand went to tug and pull at the opposite one, leaving him writhing and whimpering under you. You hummed with a raised eyebrow as you pulled back, swapping your mouth and hand with a happy smile.
Francis was panting, gripping your hipws tightly, he was trying so hard not to move his hips, he didn't want to get hit again, he was a good boy! He bit back another moan, he was sure his fingers were causing indents in your skin.
He threw his head back when you began to grind against his cock. Small whimpers left his lips and a small cry when you got up off of him. He looked back up but sighed happily when you began to strip, quickly standing too discard his last item of clothing.
You raised an eyebrow, chcukling when you saw him sitting down quickly too, wrapping a hand around his dick. He moaned softly, slowly stroking himself, squeezing his eyes shut. You tsk'ed quietly, cupping his chin, your thumb swiping across his lip. "Gonna cum already? You're not even inside me yet!" You laughed, humming as he took your thumb in his mouth.
Francis was like putty in your hands, so desperate and needy for you, allowing his hand to pull away from his dick as you straddled him, the tip of his dick rubbing against your pussy.
He cried softly, whining when you took your thumb out of his mouth, quickly taking one of your breasts into his mouth, suckling desperately on your nipple. You smiled, he was so cute! How could you ever deny him anything?
"Mommy, mommyy, please.." he whimpered against your skin and you just smiled, slamming down onto him quickly, all at once.
Both of you moaned out in unison and you smiled at the slight stretch, though you couldn't wait for your turn to fuck him instead. You allowed time for you both to adjust as his hands went to hold onto your hips, slowly rubbing circles into the skin before you slowly lifted yourself up and dropping down again.
Francis' breath was hot against your neck and skin, his moans breathless and desperate as he whimpered and whined as every pull of your soft walls against his rock hard dick. He knew he wouldn't last long, he had been desperate for ages.
His fingers were digging into your skin, his eyes glued to your cunt as one of your perfect hands went to rub at your clit. He whimpered and tentatively replaced your hand with his. He smiled up at you nervously but it all disappeared as he saw your blissful expression.
"Mmm, Miss. 'm so close, wann' cum so bad!" He whined, burying his head in your shoulder. You smiled, nodding as you continued to bounce on his cock. "Cum, cum inside of me, darling, you're okay," You replied with a smile, clenching around him desperately.
He nodded, gasping for breath as you continuously clenched around him, rubbing your clit with more vigor, collecting some click to aid in the lubrication.
He moaned so loudly as he came that you had to shove fingers in his mouth. He didn't care, so desperate as he gagged on your fingers, eyes fixed as he cum spilled out of your beautiful pussy.
His eyed widened and he whined as you continued. "Mmf-" He tried to speak but just gagged beauifully around your fingers instead. You smiled evily down at him. "You really think you could just cum and forget about me? Stupid boy.." You laughed as he cried from the overstimulation.
You allowed your head to tilt back, thrusting your fingers into his mouth as you continuously bounced on his cock, increasing your pace as you felt yourself get closer and more and more desperate.
"Fuck, close, Francis, been such a good boy! So good for me, cumming- oh god, i'm cumming, Francis- fuck-!" You cried out, reaching out to blindly grab onto him as your pussy tghtly clenched aorund him and your body spasmed.
Francis gasped and cried as he came again too, the praise and stimulation was too much for him. You smiled as you slowly came down from your high, wiping his tears away gently.
"Sh, sh, you're okay, baby boy, it's all good. You did so well.." You promised, cupping his cheek gently. Francis looked up at you, eyes still watery as he hid his face in your chest. You just smiled and held him close. "Good boy... Well done.."
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zukoscoomdump69 · 15 days
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GUYS HEAR ME OUTTT...
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IK ABOUT THE MILK MAN BUT....HE KINDA BADDDDD LIKE?
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Imagine this, Dr W Afton pulls his face away from between your thighs, square frames drenched in the wet juices of your cunt. Your head was thrown back against your office chair, hands deeply entangled in his handsome black-haired cut. His fogged glasses look up at you, the glare in his frames making his expression unreadable, but it was clear he wasn't done with his meal. His big rounded nose stuffs back into your folds sending you pleasure in waves. One orgasm, three orgasms, fourth orgasm, he wouldn't stop till you've squirted all the essence you have to give
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crimsonbubble · 1 month
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I'm alive and would like to hear yalls horny thots and desires pls im bored 🙏🙏
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etfrin · 2 months
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— ʙʟɪꜱꜱ | ᴅᴏᴘᴘᴇʟɢᴀɴɢᴇʀ! ꜰʀᴀɴᴄɪꜱ
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✧— ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: NSFW | cunnilingus, mentions of blood, murder. tongue fucking, monster tongue. hints of overstimulation, art from Pinterest | lmk if I forgot anything
✧— ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: doppelganger Francis makes you open the door...
✧— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 0.7k
✧— ᴀ/ɴ: please give feedback, it's been over a month since I wrote
「ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ」
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The doppelganger should have known better than to show up with ‘scarlet milk’ all over his disguise. He had taken care of the D.D.D of this building already. He just needed to convince the pretty girl behind the screen to let him and cause havoc.
He leans in, his face dangerously close to the glass and he smirks. His eyes are dark and a smirk forms on his face. “Just let me in. Does the D.D.D even treat you well? You deserve to be worshiped and I am willing to be on my knees.”
You swallow as you look at him, only a layer of glass separating you and him. There was a familiar ache between your legs from his words. You couldn't remember the last time you had time for yourself, this simple desk job consuming all your time. You tried to remind yourself that this man is a monster.
But if the monster is ready to be a slut… who are you to refuse?
You press the button that gives him access to your office. You glance at the red button, knowing that the moment you're done having fun with him. You'll have to press it.
The milkman, you know his name is Francis, walks in. He doesn't take any time to press you against the desk. The wood digging into your back.
“Pretty human,” he murmurs, his head dipping in between the space of your shoulder. His lips press a soft kiss. You gasp when you feel his sharp teeth on your skin. If he wanted to, he could tear your flesh.
You let out a breath, your heart beating against your chest. You tilt your head to give him more access to your neck. He takes advantage to lick at your salty skin with his long tongue. “Tasty,” he whispered against your ear. For a moment fear freezes you, thinking that he would eat you alive.
Instead, he gets on his knees. The loud thud makes you wince. “I'll treat you better,” he said, “Be a good girl for me.”
You nod before you can even think.
He gets under your skirt, his breath fanning your wet panties. He pressed his lips to the stain of your arousal. His tongue begins to lick you all over your clothed pussy. You put your hands on the desk, your head thrown back as you moan without shame. You feel weak on the knees. The monster has you caged even though it is your thighs around his head.
He continues to press small kisses all over, and the tip of his tongue puts pressure on your sensitive clit, making you cry out. The wet, rough texture of your panties felt so good against your bud. Then he finally decides that it's enough teasing.
He uses his fingers to pull your underwear out of the way. He chuckled when he saw your wet pussy clenching around nothing. You feel yourself getting hotter.
He eats you out without a care. His strokes are short and impatient. You begin to move your hips, grinding your cunt on his tongue. He groans. His hands are on your thighs and his grip on your flesh tightens. He raises his hands until he's cupping the cheeks of your ass. He kneads the soft flesh as he begins to use his tongue to flick at your clit until it's swollen.
Only when he's satisfied, he kisses the bud and begins to fuck his tongue into your walls. It was no easy feat, but you were so wet and it felt like his tongue was longer than normal humans. He chokes on you, his tongue making out with your tight walls. You cry out from the pleasure, knowing that you'll never feel something like this ever again.
Your eyes roll back, your pussy walls flexing on his tongue. You were so close and you knew you surely were suffocating him with the way you pressed your thighs against his head.
“Please- please-” you begin to plead, your body begging to be released. You would begin to cry if the monster denied you this. His tongue reached deeper inside of your walls than any cock did. He pressed his tongue to a soft, sensitive spot and you got dizzy from the jolts of pleasure. You see white in your vision as you begin to cum. You would have lost your balance if it weren't for him.
He milks your essence on his tongue. He makes sure there's not a single drop left when he stops. You had tears in your eyes as you looked down at him. His lips glisten with your juices. He smirked.
“Let me kill those worthless humans. There's more to that where it came from.”
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casinocarpediem · 2 months
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▪︎■☆ Новое Mолоко 🐮🥛 ☆■▪︎
(Translation: New Milk)
☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞
☆ male! subtop! Francis Mosses / male! dombottom! Reader
☆ overstimulation if ya squint a lil, milking, breeding, dumbification, passing out, belly bulge (If your not into this, look away!! 👻👻)
☆ implied Russian speaking Francis (translated from google translate and research for needed accuracy, however, any form of critique or correction definetely is allowed!)
☆ short (I think???)
☆ author has played Not My Neighbor
°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°
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You and Francis had a thing. And, fuck, for a minimum wage worker who barely gets any kind of rest at all, he's fucking good at what he does. He's a big fan of milking. Not his job, no, he could rant about how shitty it can be despite not wanting to get a new one (A/N: so real) but he's a fan of milking. Just the other kind of milking.
The first tim you two had sex, he was pretty sheepish about it, yeah. He didn't know if you prefered topping or bottoming so he settled for a handjob. You did the same as well. Until you both got used to each other and realized that he was pretty flexible. He'd do whatever you'd want to do, whatever you had in store, as long as if it wasn't too much for either of you. He loves fucking but he surely isn't a sex devient. Somewhere in the middle. Pliant to whatever you to had planned. But recently, he may or may not have discovered a new kink. Somethig that made his legs flex and his stamina increase and the gooey, warm, and fuzzy gears in his head grind back to life to keep on going. The last time you two had sex, there was now no condom, and he was pounding you into the bed that you swore Isaack would definetely send a formally written complain, persuasive enough for the both of you to not have such intense, hot, steamy sex for the next few months, (He's a reporter after all, have to respect the man informing the people, and he definetely has a way with words).
Humming, groaning, a little against your neck. You swore it was like a kitten, as if he was purring in a way. You pulled his hair as per usual and with a louder grunt his dark brown eyes roll up just a slight and flutter, closing shut as he fills you to the brim with his warm baby batter. Shaking, sweating, and biting his lip when he just keeps on cumming until theres nothing more to give. Or is there?
What he didn't expect, was when you suddenly whispered in the midst of him balls deep inside you,
"Thats it... good boy, you fuckin slut... Cum in me, keep milkin' yourself f'me"
Ah shit, he swore something inside of him just snapped loose. With the way he shivered violently, and as your hand loosened on his sweaty brown hair he moves again. Oh how odd, after a few rounds, the last one being penetration, he's always so tired, opting to give you a handjob or finger you if you didnt get a taste of your climax but shit. If this wasn't hot then what was?!
When you had basically degraded him to milk his balls dry you didn't mean literally, but fuck. This was so appealing, that your little milk boy had his quirks.
You look down at yourself seeing the bulge appearing on your abdoment everytime he thrusts in and god does it make you feel dizzy. Your hard dick, leaking as well just begging to cum while Francis gasps and shudders a little more, oh he looks so dumb. Trying to do as he's told. To keep milking himself. Milking himself for you. Just for motherfucking you. It keeps fuzzy sparks inside of his brain that has him smiling and drooling against your chest.
"Awe, what an adorable little cow you are... Milking your-...yourself for me... Giving me every ounce of that sweet sweet milk of yours, hmm? You wanna give me your milk Francis? You wanna fucking cum in me again?"
He feels so lightheaded that he smiles dumbly at the idea and nods as if his head is too heavy, full of warm cream. Muttering several words in russian mixed in with english as he nods slowly, trembling as his cock, still hard and moving perfectly against every spot inside of you.
"Please please please К-Куколка please... fuck fuckk- let me cum... inside... inside... cum inside please please milk me- oh... П-Пожалуйста... З-...Золотце... Пожалуйста..."
The pathetic, brown haired man sobs. Pawing at your sides like an injured little puppy. Begging so prettily, who could deny those eyes of his? all teary and tired. Small blobs of salty water dripping down his eyebags which were now disappearing, thanks to yourself for keeping his sleep schedule normal again after years of nap malnutrition.
After a few more moments of Francis groaning so softly against your ear, you feel yourself about to cum too, and when you order it directly, he really does come undone. Panting like a dog in heat while nails dig against his back skin. All the while he buries himself deep inside of you once again and fills you up with a second load of his fluids that it's practically drooling out of your hole. You hiss as well, shutting your eyes with a shudder as your dick spurts out a thick white rope of cum, coating Francis' stomach and your chest. Fuck.
Francis pants, collapsing on you. You gently push him to the side and just watch him catch his breath. Eyes closed, skin warm and sweaty while he's still inside you. All soft. But its not uncomfortable. At least now, you definetely know how you can abuse this new found information with your lovely boyfriend.
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yesimilkdamilkman · 2 months
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art by @/yunonoai on twitter and tiktok
I cropped each of the panels
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paymechildsupport · 2 months
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I've never done a request before so please bear with me🥲
I was wondering if you could do another Francis Mosses x reader.
I really enjoyed your Spouse!Reader x doppelgänger!Francis and wanted to see your take on D.D.D. trainee!Reader x doppelganger! Francis, where we get sent out to 'take care' of Francis.
Really excited to see what you do with this prompt🙏🏾
>nahhh this is a devious prompt, -- I gotchu 🙏😈🙏😈
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“Does this please you, Officer?”  // Doppel!Francis x DDD Officer Reader
--Doppelgänger!Francis x DDD Reader tasked with his neutralization 🙏
-!! AFAB Reader, -- though genetalia isn't outright explicity stated -(?) -- there is room for your imagination though 😋
-!! CW: nsfw- (smut), ; Dubcon /// Hand-job; sex against a wall; degradation; implied overstimulation
A/N: the number of Francis requests are CRAZY, -- and I completely understand why, -- man's actually majestic <3.
————-
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...
This was not how you planned to spend your Tuesday night,— grumpy and exhausted, woken up mid-sleep by an emergency dispatch.
“Mm… hello.?” Your groggy voice speaks into the ringing phone, eyes still sticky from sleep. 
“Emergency Dispatch: Doppelgänger identified at Complex II,— repeat, doppelgänger identified at complex II,— dispatch agent, neutralize the threat”. They clicked off, leaving you alone in the dark. 
Fuuuuuuck…. 
You fit yourself to your uniform quickly, practically ripping the hazmat suit in an attempt to get inside. Stupid cheap uniform. 
Hurriedly, you grabbed your gear before rushing out the door, immediately stopping to softly tiptoe down the hall, (it would be inconsiderate to wake your neighbors at this hour).
You bolt out the complex, trying your best with the minimal light from the lampposts to groggily stumble your way to Complex II. You recall briefly the mention of a new doorman, a rookie. You figured it made sense,— poor new guy’s first day and he’s greeted by what you can assume as a particularly aggressive doppelgänger. 
Trudging up to the looming building, you approach the iron bound mechanical door. You can see immediately the shutters to the doorman’s office are closed, bits of movement visible from the gaps in the blinds. The poor dude was in shambles. 
You approach the gate, eyes locking on the figure of the doppelgänger, 
Hmm, let’s see who it is tonight…
You’re surprised to see the handsome face of your milkman staring back at you, eyes looking as dead as ever. The air was knocked right outta your lungs,— holy shit these doppelgängers were getting good. 
Clearing your throat, you address, 
“Uh,— right, sir,” you look at the doppelgänger, “I’m gonna need you to come with me.” 
He says nothing, opting to just stare. It’s then you notice the gaping hole that was his mouth, the two black chasms that were supposed to be his eyes. From afar, he’d look perfectly normal,— but in the light all the inhuman imperfections stuck out like a sore thumb 
Holy smokes that’s hot. 
“I’m going to take you with me now,” you don’t even know why you’re telling him this, why the hell were you being all nice with a doppelgänger? Sure, he was good looking,— sure, you were curious what that mouth could do—- 
But that’s besides the point. 
You approach hesitantly, hooking an arm around ‘Francis’, giving him a light tug to signify him to follow you. 
Surprisingly, he does. Without a single word or complaint. He just… stares. With those beady white pupils. It sends a delicious shiver down your spine. 
Leading him away, you look over your shoulder at the doorman who just peeked out from behind the shutters, giving him a reassuring thumbs up as you walk away with your new companion. 
“Threat neutralized,” you repeat into the bulky walky talky attached to your belt, “order complete, over”. You place it back in its compartment, continuing until you and ‘Francis’ reach the anomaly compound for all things strange and odd. 
‘Francis’ looks at the compound with horribly disguised disgust. You only chuckle grinning, 
“No no, don’t worry. You aren’t going in there…” he seems to breathe a sigh of relief— if that’s even possible—, before you finish the last bit, 
“— don’t worry, I have… other plans for you..”
——
“Strip.” 
“Excuse me?” He whirls around, taken aback. 
“You heard me, strip” 
“And why,” his eyes narrow, “would I do that?” 
You shrug, “safety protocol,-- we’re in the decontamination room,-- can’t let you in if your clothes are contaminated, y’know?” 
'Francis' is absolutely flabbergasted. 
“Oh, and for security measures someone else has to be in the room at all times, – but uh,-” you grin, “we’re a lil’ short staffed at the moment, so it looks like it’ll just have to be you and me. 
'Francis' only looks at you through narrowed eye lids, thinking, “and if I refuse?” 
“Then I’ll strip you myself” and you step closer to do just that. 
'Francis' skitters backwards to the other end of the room, back hitting the wall, “h-hey! No need for that, I’ll do as you ask…” he mutters
Chuckling, “at least you can be obedient” 
'Francis' looks away almost bashfully as he begins to undo the buttons on his shirt, fabric peeling away to reveal the pale skin underneath. His hat rests on a nearby bench
“Fully,” you purr, “I want it all off.” 
You swear you see the tiniest hint of red tinge his cheeks, and you can’t help but wonder just how advanced this doppelgänger was. Good thing you were about to see for yourself in a moment… 
The air is heavy, tense, almost, as 'Francis' slowly undoes the buckle on his belt, pants sliding down to his ankles, – his boxers the only scrap of clothing left hiding him from you. 
He wearily regards the way you look at him, not missing the growing flare of hunger behind your eyes, 
“Does this please you, officer?” his words are clipped, tension building up behind each one. Biting your lip, your breath almost catches at the way he smiles, teeth a little too sharp to be human. 
“No.” The words are thick in your throat, forcing them out a bit of a struggle, “Get rid of the rest of it, now” 
He bites his tongue, making no move to do so. In a second you’re on him, pinning his figure to the wall, bodies pressed up together. He has no time to react as you hook two fingers around his boxers, harshly yanking them off. 
“Oh.”
Free of the confines of his pants, his erect cock springs loose, tip already dripping with precum. 
“Huh.” 'Francis' can’t even turn his head your way, face hot and sweating slightly, “Who would’ve thought,” – your hands curl around him, taking him fully in your fist. His eyes fly to your face, pupils blown and dilated, staring in horrified arousal as you began to knead the hardened flesh, “--what a sick little thing you are, getting off on my reprimands, hmm?” 
'Francis' sucks in a sharp breath, muscles tensing almost to a breaking point. His entire body shook with an animalistic need. More strands of precum build up on his tip, all read and agitated. Your thumb rubs the tiny slit, coating him with the sticky fluid. You found it hilarious, – no way this freakish creature had a fucking thing for degradation. 
His mouth opens in the shape of a small ‘o’, eyes rolling back as you teasingly pull at his dick, your hands making wet squelching noises playing with the soaked meat. 
“Mm,” you hum as you continue to play with him, dumbifying the creature in your hands. His legs start shaking like a dog’s, lewd whimpers flowing from his lips, glistening with saliva and drool. He desperately thrusts himself against your hand, chasing his pleasure farther. Jerking him off slowly, immense satisfaction burning in your stomach at the way your hand milks him. Each low groan went straight to your pulsing heat, drenching your own pants. 
Panting, unfamiliar with the immense, foreign pleasure curdling through his gut, 'Francis' seems to forget the guise of his human appearance, pornograpic moans mixing in with groggy animalistic growls and grunts. Carnal desire ripples through his veins, building up in his stomach, molten hot, and threatening to explode from his twitching cock in your hands. Poor thing can’t even formulate words, getting his brains fucked out just by your hand alone. 
He gasps, right about to climax into your hammering fist when you suddenly retract your hand. 'Francis' looks at you with wide eyes, looking every bit the kicked puppy, cruelly robbed of his orgasm. 
“Hh. huh… nghu..- ga-?..”,  panting.
You chuckle slowly, “no, not yet…” 
He can only watch with teary eyes as you skillfully unbuckle your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear. You grab him by the hips, positioning him (which isn’t hard, considering the only thing keeping his shaking body up was your torso), and aligning your pelvis, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You carefully slip him into your drenched hole, gasping softly at the sensation of him.
“Hah… like I said….” ‘Francis’ can only gape as you adjust yourself, cock twitching madly inside of you, 
… “I’m not done with you yet…”
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notmyneighbor · 1 month
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That’s Not My Neighbor Francis Mosses/The Milkman Fanfic Masterlist
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Let Me In (completed) - Doppelganger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Doorman Female Reader
Word Count - 40k
CW - explicit sexual content, body horror, minor blood and violence, pregnancy
Tumblr Chapter 1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4 ~ 5 ~ 6 ~ 7 ~ 8 ~ 9 ~ 10 ~ 11
AO3 Chapter 1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4 ~ 5 ~ 6 ~ 7 ~ 8 ~ 9 ~ 10 ~ 11
Bonus - Spotify playlist courtesy of @pear-18 here
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Back Alley (completed) - Doppelganger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Waitress Female Reader
CW - explicit sexual content, minor blood and violence, minor blood/pain/breeding kink
Tumblr 1 ~ 2
AO3 1 ~ 2
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A New Neighbor (ongoing) - Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Babysitter Reader, Francis Mosses x Nacha Mikaelys
CW - explicit sexual content, cheating
Tumblr Chapter 1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4
AO3 Chapter 1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4
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Special Delivery (completed) -Doppelganger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Word Count - 3.3k
CW - explicit sexual content
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AO3
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Scarlet Milk (completed) - Doppelganger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Word Count 5.2k
CW - explicit sexual content, blood drinking
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AO3
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Sway (completed) - Doppelganger Female Reader x Francis Mosses/The Milkman
Word Count 4.2k
CW - explicit sexual content
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AO3
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In the Dark (ongoing) - Izaack Gauss x Francis Mosses
CW - explicit sexual content
Tumblr Chapter 1 ~ 2 ~ 3
AO3 Chapter 1 ~ 2 ~ 3
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R&D (ongoing) - Yog Sothoth x Female Reader (TNMN Nightmare Mode)
CW - explicit sexual content
Tumblr Chapter 1
AO3 Chapter 1
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Here Is the News - Doppelganger Izaack Gauss x Female Reader (completed)
CW - explicit sexual content
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AO3
My other fanfiction collection blogs:
FNAF | Dead Plate | Alien Stage
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improbable-outset · 1 month
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📄 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧
Francis Mosses x Fem!Reader
𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k
𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Wife!Reader, lactation kink, breastfeeding.
𝐀/𝐍: It’s not much but I just wanted to get this fantasy I had out there. I tried to embed some of the 1950s language and pet names here
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After the weight from the day, you help your husband relax and end his day with a strong finish.
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Francis pushed the key to his apartment with a sigh. Today was physically taxing as per usual and his body was exhausted.
But it didn't help that the new doorman was giving him a hard time and was skeptical about letting him in. Even if he was on the list today, he still asked for his ID.
To make matters worse, he spent way too long scrutinising the picture and his face, while Francis would stand and wait awkwardly.
As much as he understood the importance of making sure everything was in check with the doppelgänger’s lurking around, Francis wanted nothing more than to go home.
Finally stepping inside, he loosened the bow tie around his collar and removed his hat. The apartment was quiet and the only main light on was the hallway giving a comforting atmosphere to come home to.
He headed to the bedroom to find you settled on the bed reading a novel with the bedside lamp on. You were so engrossed in your book, you didn’t seem to notice nor hear him come in.
Francis propped his hat and tie on his side of the bed before he climbed under the covers with you. Normally you would be on his case for wearing his work clothes to bed but tonight, he was too tired and just wanted to be in your arms.
You put your book down on the bedside table when he positioned himself and rested his head on your chest.
“You’re home early,” you remarked, slipping your arms around him to embrace him. Your voice was always a soothing solace in contrast to the hectic day he just had.
“Yeah, I managed to get everything done pretty quickly today,” he felt you running your hands over his hair and it was enough to lull him to sleep.
“Rough day at work?”
“More like a rough encounter with the new doorman,” Francis grumbled, nuzzling into your neck.
You mused, “Oh right, they hired a new fella, huh?”
The frustration from the memory quickly died down when he picked up on your familiar scent— a subtle aroma of detergent mixed with fresh baked goods, reminding Francis of what home felt like. He lifted his head slightly just enough to see your face.
“And what have you been doing all day, doll?”
He knew you probably didn’t do much but he would always ask anyway just to hear your voice. A soft smile plastered on your face. “I had to post some letters at the post office today but other than that, same old same old,”
Francis sighed, feeling himself being basked in your warmth. There were some moments at his job where things wouldn’t go his way, whether he was a customer complaining about spoiled milk or missing his morning alarm.
Every morning he would always be the first to wake up, often before dawn, so you wouldn’t be able to see him leave. But he would always leave a kiss on your forehead before he left the apartment.
It saddened him that he couldn’t spend his mornings with you. But all of it was worth it at the end of the day when he got to come home to you in your arms like this.
You continued to massage his scalp gently before your hands lowered to rub on his back. For a while, you both stayed like this in silence and enjoyed each other’s presence.
However, the tranquility that was shared between the two of you was interrupted when there was a subtle sweet smell coming from you— your breasts specifically.
Francis lifted his head and noticed that your shirt was getting damp from the breast milk that was leaking. The smell was getting stronger as your shirt was getting more wet.
You quickly bunched your shoulders in embarrassment when you noticed what he was looking at, squeezing more of the milk out from your nipples.
“I didn’t expect that to happen. I’m sorry,” your demeanour became more frantic compared to how calm and collected you were just a moment ago.
Just as you were about to sit yourself up to change to a different shirt, Francis held you in place so you wouldn’t move.
“Now, don’t go shy on me sweetheart,” he murmured, gently moving your arms away to expose your wet shirt.
His hands reach over to untie the bow on the collar before unbuttoning your shirt in slow precision to reveal your breast. Milk was already leaking from the tip of your nipple and was smeared over your soft skin.
His hand cupped one of your breasts, making sure to handle you with care. He knew that your breasts were more tender and sensitive.
His fingers graze over the nipples before gently squeezing the tip, earning a gasp from you. The tip stiffened to its peak— a sign of your arousal. He watched in awe as more milk was seeping from your nipple and running down his knuckle.
He quickly lapped the milk on his hand before his mouth was hovering over your chest again. He kissed along the skin and around the nipple. Your hands reach over and run your fingers over the hair on his nape.
Your occasional gasps was a fuel for him to continue until his lips grazed over the tip. He gazed up at you from his view.
His voice was soft when he asked, “May I?”
You laughed at his antics, “You want a taste?”
“I don’t see why not,”
After you nodded in approval, his mouth latched onto your nipple and gently sucked, feeling your milk soothe over his taste buds eagerly.
Francis’ job was to deliver milk around but none of the milk he delivered would be as sweet as yours. There was a feeling of satisfaction knowing that only he had access to your milk— something from you that he could have all to himself.
He continued to feed off of your lactation, feeling extra greedy. Your back arched further against his mouth and your soft moans encouraged him further.
“Francis…” your voice was hazy and he looked up at you with hooded eyes while still being attached to your breast.
After he was satisfied, he pulled himself away to look at you. You were breathless and even more beautiful seeing you raw like this.
His sweet, pretty wife.
Francis felt a tightness growing in his pants, taking in the sight of you and being completely enamored by you. A newfound adrenaline and excitement was coursing through his body now.
He reached over the unzip the flying of his pants before he let his cock spring out, free from the bondage of his clothes.
You couldn’t help but stare at his erection and the smell in the room was a mix of your sweet milk and the precum that was dripping from his tip.
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Does anyone wanna be tagged on my Francis mosses fics?
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crystalflygardener · 2 months
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“save a cow, milk the milkman.” or let him milk himself…
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Milkman/Francis Mosses short drabble where he can't help but (obsessively) pine for MC and that pining brings him to tamper with the milk he delivers to you.
Francis Mosses x GN!Reader
NSFW // CW: obsessive/lovesick and possessive milkman, pining, he’s a little submissive hehe, milkman is actually a horny virgin, breeding kink, it's not only milk in there, anatomically incorrect, lots of horny fantasizing. 1.4k words.
(A/N: he's such a cutie fr; dedicated to my milkman obsessed friends)
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He should thank you, he figures, his dick twitches every time he sees you in the lobby. And maybe he purposely forgets his ID or his entry permit, just so you’d stare him down with that suspicious glint in your eye. Thank god all you need to see is his torso and above, or else you might just catch the tent in his pants as he casually strolls through the door you always unlock for him. How kind of you.. He can feel his fingers itching, his cock begging for release while he climbs up the stairs to his apartment. Maybe in the time it takes him to get there, he’ll have calmed down by then. But oh how he wishes that he could stare at you longer, memorize the lines of your face… But what if you start to think he’s a doppelganger? Oh, he would be devastated if you called the D.D.D. on him; all because he doesn’t know how to act around you. And so he’ll keep this ruse going, he’ll let you quietly wonder why his dark circles seem to be getting worse lately. Who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll worry about him enough to ask about it, or at least that’s what he wishes. The moment he enters his apartment and locks the door behind him, he impatiently yanks off his bow tie. It feels too constricting around his neck. In fact, his whole body feels too constricted in general. He finds himself rushing over to his bedroom and sprawling out onto his bed with his fingers frantically working at the buckle of his belt, sliding his pants down along with his briefs. Finally, his cock springs free from its confines, standing straight and proud, the tip beading with enough precum that his hand is able to glide smoothly up and down his shaft. Francis has a certain dislike, for the way you’re content with only a bottle of milk a day. He’d made sure to alter his schedule for you. You’re the only one he delivers milk to everyday, just so you’d never run out. But the reason why he dislikes it though… is because he also never runs out of 'milk'. Even after a hard day of work, he keeps himself up at night. With his back now against the headboard and his legs spread, his eyes shut as he paints pictures of you in his mind.. You teasing him.. You eagerly working your mouth up and down his length… Only for him to open his eyes and see the emptiness, where you should be, in front of him. It’s all simply wishful thinking, that he can finally replace his hand with any part of you he can get. After all, the glimpses of you he catches when you open your door to accept his milk delivery has proved to him that his hands would fit perfectly on your hips and the curve of your ass. Squeezing and kneading your flesh until it’s red while he empties himself inside you (preferably more than once)… (WARNING: SKIP IF YOU DON’T LIKE MILK TAMPERING) Francis enjoys the image of his cum spilling out of you far more than he likes to admit– it gets him off every time. But for now, he’ll settle for emptying himself inside your next milk delivery. What a diligent worker he is, ruining his sleep to provide you with his own homemade calcium. And if you notice the difference in taste, he’ll just tell you that he worries for your health, that he merely added a bit of vitamin D in there. If you, however, find out the truth, can you really fault the man for simply wanting to offer you a part of himself? (END)
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milkthemilkman · 2 months
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FRANCIS MOSSES X FEMALE READER (PT 1)
SUBMISSIVE FRANCIS
The click of the door, accompanied by the sound of keychains hitting against eachother takes your attention from the television. It's none other than your boyfriend, Francis, coming back home with the food you requested in his hand. "I'm home." He announces, as if you didn't already know. Taking off his shoes, he pulls the key out of the hey hole, and he steps inside the building. Kneeling down, he picks up his shoes, opens the cabinet right next to door and places the shoes inside, then closes both of the doors. His usual tired and stoic face turns up into a little grin as soon as he sees you approach him. He was quick to wrap his arms around you and lean down to give you a little peck. "Mm. Knowing you will be home when I come back makes my day a lot easier." He mumbles as he presses his forehead against yours, not being able to help himself from going in for a second kiss. He just couldn't get enough of you. The kiss lasted a few seconds. Then a few more. And a few more. The only reason he pulled back was because he was reminded of the bag of food in his hand. "Mm, darling. The food." His grin grew wider as he lifted up the bag of Chinese food. Even though he didn't want to, he removed his hands from your waist, and walked towards the living room, where he placed the bag of food on the table. "Be right back.." he mumbled, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked towards the bedroom. He opened the door and walked inside, but as soon as he closed the door, it was opened right back, your perverted glance on his body. He had expected you to be busy taking the containers out of the plastic bag. "Is there something you need?" He questioned as he turned around, but only when he tossed aside his button up, he realized your intentions. "Oh.." his face reddened as he watched you close the door behind yourself and walk closer to him. "Couldn't wait until after dinner?" He chuckled, his cheeks flushing. But obviously, once you kissed him, there was no way he was about to pull back. Closing his eyes, he leaned down a little to deepen the kiss, feeling your hands on his neck. He let you back him up onto the bed, and once there was no more room for his feet, he sat on the bed. You were quick to sit on his lap, and he very invitingly wrapped his arms around your waist as soon as you did. "Mm.." he groaned into your mouth as he felt your hips move on his lap. As tired as he might be, he could never, ever refuse you. As your lips parted from his, you trailed soft kisses along his jawline, sending shivers down his spine. "I can't resist you," he whispered hoarsely, his hands roaming over your curves as you playfully tugged at his belt, slowly undoing it with your hangs as you kiss his neck. "Francis," you breathed out, "I need you now." His breath hitched, and he responded by claiming your lips once more, deepening the kiss, his hands sliding under your shirt, exploring the sensitive skin of your back. The scent of your perfume filled his nostrils, and the heat of your body against his sent his desire soaring. With a low growl, he broke away, his eyes darkening with desire. "I've been wanting you since this morning," he admitted, his voice rough with passion.
As you once again trailed kisses down from his neck, to his chest, then down to Francis's abs, his heart raced in anticipation. A low growl escaped Francis, his fingers tangling in your hair as you slowly got off of his lap onto the ground on your knees, face to face with the waistband of his pants. He watched you take off the belt quickly, then unbutton his pants. He lifted his hips off the bed a little to make it easier for you to take the pants off, and it came down along with his boxers as soon as you pulled down, his length up and rock hard for you. It was embarrasing to him a little. All if took was a few minutes of kissing and a few touches on your skin for him to get so solid.. but you made him feel so weak. With a hungry look in his eyes, he watched you lower yourself further as You ran your tongue along the delicate skin just above his groin, savoring the way his muscles contracted beneath your touch. His sharp intake of breath spurred you on, and you eagerly dove in, taking him into your mouth. The salty taste of his skin was something he was hoping would inconvenience you, but you didn't seem to mind at all as you bobbed your head. (PT 2)
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crimsonbubble · 2 months
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cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, overstimulation, masturbation *not proofread, just pure horny
[It do be my birthday so here is milkman breeding session <33] here are some refs for you @smmy-winchster @partycatty
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You should be glad he came at the time he did, otherwise you would've been caught a long while ago.
You're being pressed into your desk, your thighs closed tightly around Francis’ hips. The sound of your arousal was evident. There was a growing pool of cum coating your swollen cunt. Francis looked down between your messy thighs, watching how your pretty hole stretched around his length.
“So sorry for making you wait, my darling.” His cock throbbed again, more cum managing to spurt out of him. His low groans trialled into short whimpers, his sensitivity growing with each pump. His fingers dipped into your hips, realigning his hips back before pushing forward and pulling you down onto him. His cock speared you open, coating your walls in a sticky white.
“Easy my dear, I'm not done.” His words are a whisper against your skin, a promise of something more. His breathing is heavy, his cock pulsing within your warm walls. You pushed your hips down against him, meeting his thrusts halfway. Francis tugged your legs up higher, letting them rest over his shoulders. His hands held tighter on your hips, desperately pulling your soft body onto him.
You're lost in your own cloud of lust, only focused on the way Francis moulds your pussy to accommodate his length. The wet squelch reaches your ears too quickly, flustering you as you listen to how easily he slides in and out of your slick cunt.
His hands spread across the sides of your stomach before he trails one down, rubbing his thumb against your puffy clit. Your back bows, craving him harder, faster, and deeper. You can feel every vein and every pulse as Francis rammed himself inside you again and again.
He could feel his own cock twitch, swiftly pulling out to coat your messy cunt with another layer of white. He continues to stroke himself through his orgasm, slapping his tip against your clit. 
“You can handle a few more, right? Be good for me and let me fill you up, yea?”
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etfrin · 2 months
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Untitled | teaser | 18+ | posted
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“Just let me in. Does the D.D.D even treat you well? You deserved to be worshipped and I am willing to be on my knees."
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