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bettyfrommars · 10 months

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Dr. Munson & The Monster

mad scientist!Eddie x The Monster x fem!Reader

Based on a sweet ask I got about how Reader's boyfriend cheats on us, and then we get revenge with his dad. I'm sure this was not what they had in mind 👀 my apologies. wc: 1.7k

18+Only, mature content, smut, cheating, mention of monster sex, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), creampie, breeding!kink, mention of being forced to live at the castle, mention of male impotence. Frankie and Reader are 25+, doctor!Eddie is 40+.

Things with you and your boyfriend Frankie were complicated. When he first put you over his shoulder and carried you back to the castle, determined to be your mate, you wondered if it would work out. But, you’d grown to love that zipper-neck lothario, and the enormous cock attached to him. Munson’s Monster was famous by that time for being the first reanimated human, and he had so many women throwing their panties at him, it was intimidating for you at first.

“Baby, where are you going?” You called to him from the bed where you were in one of your sexiest nightgowns, draped perfectly to expose the curve of your hip that drove him bonkers.

“Out!” But he didn’t actually say it, he just grunted it, stomping off toward the balcony on stiff legs. He liked to use the thick vines on the side of the building to climb down.

He flung the terrace doors wide open, and you watched him make his clumsy descent with a shake of your head. “You’ll break your neck again one of these days, you know that baby? Just use the front door next time!”

He was too busy banking on his arm strength to hold his substantial weight to look up at you, but he did offer a growl and a grunt, and by the time he dropped to the ground in a crouch, there were tears glistening on your lash line.

The first few months together had been so rich with discovery and the promise of new love. Frankie mated you from sunup to sundown, stretching you out and chasing his release with animalistic passion, the likes of which you’d never experienced before. After a few weeks, you were confessing your love; there was even talk of planning an October wedding.

But, the honeymoon phase was over, as they say, and word had made its way back to you that Frankie was getting in bed with every village woman within arms reach. They all snickered and laughed behind your back when they saw you in town.

You watched him stumble into the night, and then you peeled yourself away from the balcony and wiped your eyes.

You didn’t want to be alone again. The only people who lived in the castle besides you and Frankie were Dr. Munson, his assistant Igor, and a housekeeper named Frau Blucher. You put your silky robe on and brought a candelabra downstairs with you, following the golden glow of light coming from under the door of Dr. Munson’s library.

You knocked first, because he was a very private man, and you were paranoid that he hated you for whatever reason. Maybe he didn’t think you were good enough for his creation?

“Enter,” a gruff voice bellowed from inside.

Edward Munson, brilliant surgeon and mad scientist, was hunched over his desk, fingers flying from inkwell to paper as he scribbled notes in his journal. Long, dark curly hair wild around his shoulders, with a touch of gray at the sides, and fingertips stained black from the ink.

“What do you want?” He grumbled, never looking up from the paper.

He knew it was you. He recognized the way your footsteps sounded on the floor above, the cadence of your knock, the way his heart jumped into his throat whenever you were near.

You shut the door behind you, pushing it until it clicked. A cozy fire roared in the hearth, the air smelled of old books, pipe tobacco, and leather. You intertwined your fingers in front of you and went to take a seat by the fire.

Eddie finally glanced up, your silence making him curious. That was when he saw your puffy face and the tears in your bloodshot eyes. The horrible way his “son” treated you was no secret among the house, and sometimes his thoughts found their way to wondering how it would’ve worked out if he’d found you first, and not Frankie.

With the pen still in his hand, he sat back in his seat. “I’m sorry this keeps happening. You deserve much better than this.”

You snapped a look at him. He was always so grumpy with you, this was the first time he’d ever offered you any semblance of comfort.

The nightgown under your robe was so tight to your skin that he could see the outline of your breasts and the way you weren’t wearing any undergarments. He cast his eyes back down at his desk, ashamed for even allowing himself to dream.

Pausing in the middle of the room, on your way to the couch by the fire, you were struck with a sudden epiphany: Dr. Munson was attracted to you. How had you never noticed it previously? The way the light from the fire danced on his skin, making his dark eyes sparkle.

Driven by loneliness and a sudden, rabid burst of horny, you slinked over to the big oak desk, hitching your ample hip out to rest it at the edge. The muscles in Eddie’s jaw flexed, eyes anchoring to yours, refusing to let them roam your body like they wanted to.

“What do you want from me?” His tone was tight, his cock twitching in his pants at how close you were. “You should go back to your room.”

What you wanted was to get back at your neglectful, cheating boyfriend. He got to have his fun several nights a week with whoever he wanted. Why couldn’t you have the same?

You came around the desk to be closer, now your leg was touching his. You let your hand graze up along your inner thigh over your nightgown, lips parted as you watched him from under hooded eyes. “I want you to touch me, doctor.”

Dr. Munson hasn’t been with a woman intimately for years. Mostly because he was a recluse who had no patience for the small talk required for getting to know someone, but also—he’d been harboring a secret crush on you since that first day Frankie brought you home.

His eyes flicked from the outline of your cunt to your face. “Show me,” he told you, pushing the sleeves up on his shirt.

Eager to please him, you ran your hands up your thighs to shimmy the silky skirt up around your hips, giving him the perfect view of your kitten.

Eddie’s mouth went dry at the sight, his brows knitting together. He inched forward to brace one hand on your thigh while the other worked a finger along your slit, hissing at your wetness. You yanked down the front of your nightgown to play with your nipples.

“Get on the desk,” he demanded, unbuttoning his shirt.

You had your knees bent, feet on his shoulders, quivering as his fingers spread you, his tongue seeking out the special nub that Frankie could never find. The scientist that he was, he had studied a woman’s anatomy extensively, and wanted to use his gathered knowledge to please you.

“Your mouth feels so good, doctor,” you whimpered.

He pulled away, chin dripping with a mix of saliva and your arousal, and then he worked a finger down, slipping in one, two, and then three. You were all the way back on the desk now, knocking things over as you writhed, spilling the inkwell.

He got to his feet, pushing his pants down to expose a generous pink length. You propped on your elbows to lick your lips and watch as he rubbed the tip along your slit with a groan, frowning in concentration.

“Is this what you want?” He mumbled, pulling open your lips to watch how well you took his tip.

You sat up to meet his mouth, fingers clawing into his crazy hair as you forced his lips open with your tongue. “I want you to give me a baby,” you begged. You found each other's eyes then, hovering on the implication of what was being asked. “Because we know Frankie can’t.”

It was true. As much of a medical miracle and scientific treasure Frankie was, Dr. Munson suspected his sperm was no longer viable. Sometimes he blamed his skill as a surgeon for how Frankie had turned out, but he had to be gentle with himself—that brain Igor found for him was not the organ of an intellectual.

Locking eyes with you, he sank all the way in, filling you to the base at first thrust, making you both cry out. He cursed, bracing his hands on the desk for leverage to piston his hips against you. You held his face between your hands and matched his need with your tongue.

His deft fingers moved from working your nipple to your clit, watching you unravel before his eyes. It wasn’t until he felt your walls flutter around his cock and heard you whimper his name that he allowed his release.

He grunted, fingers digging into your soft hips. He hadn’t tended to himself in days, and so the potential for seeds to be planted deep in your womb was strong.

It took a while for him to finish pumping it all in, and then you stretched back on the huge desk, planting your feet, knees wide. Maintaining eye contact with him, you used your fingers to push his cum deeper inside of you, tilting your hips up, holding it there, and then rubbing the excess up through your folds, before bringing them to your mouth to suck.

He kissed your stomach and your breasts, up your throat, sticking his own fingers inside to keep any from leaking out. “Stay like this until I say you can go,” he mumbled against your mouth. “And when it starts to drip down your leg, I want you to remember who put it there.”

“Yes, doctor,” you whined, listening to the plop of the tiny ink droplets as they fell from the desk and collected in a puddle on the floor.

#Eddie munson #eddie munson smut #older eddie munson #doctor eddie munson #frankensteins monster #the monster

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