Once again, we had to endure too much story of a greedy man, who was a coward and villain OVER the story of a man, who wants to be better, who wants to love and BE loved, wants the softer side of life, wants a purpose and most of all, a mate and the mean bad man denied him that.
I loved Frankenstein do not get me wrong but we needed more of the tender story of the Monster. We needed more of him, period.
So I wrote this for my pal @graveyardofemotions who is going through a bit of phase đHope you like it babyyyyđŠˇ
John Economos x reader . Reader forces john but heâs into it. Thigh riding. Boob grabbing/nipple sucking. Squirting. Cameo from Peacemaker (nothing rude)đ
You love big men. The bigger the better. Thatâs why youâre sitting at your desk, wet, staring at the big burly man across the room. John. Economos. His shyness is enduring, you want to run your fingers through his beard and he looks extra fucking hot in that goddamn sloth t-shirtâŚif you didnât know any better, youâd think he was wearing that for you..you have told him numerous times how amazing he looks in it. Such a fuckin tease.
You get up from your desk with some papers and head over to him. âHey Johnny, got those papers you needed!â He looks up with such a deadpan look-fuuuuck youâre gone-âI fucking told you to not call me that-itâs John or Economos.â You love it when he acts like an asshole.
You raise your brow at the attitude, maybe getting a little more wet âwell-Johnny, you know what? I donât give a fuck what you say, Iâm callin ya Johnny.â He knits his brows and pulls that fuckin gorgeous scowl of his, then his face drops when you straddle his thigh. His hands go straight up, showing-no one that heâs not touching you. âWhat the fuck are you doing? Im not touching! Im not touchiing!â He tells the empty room. God you love it when heâs a nervous wreck.
âNow listen here-Johnny, Iâm gonna ride your thigh, get what I want and weâll be happy as a clam, got it?â He starts to huff trying to get you off his thigh but you clamp your legs tight around that motherfucker, your skirt bunching up at your waist. You ainât going nowhere. âDonât you think Iâm pretty Johnny?-never once imagined me bent over a desk and you going to town on my ass?â You ask so soothingly, twiddling his wiry beard between your fingers. He looks at you like youâve just asked the most insane question known to man, âwhat the fuc-no-I just come here and work an-what the fuck are you doing now.â
Riding his goddamn thigh, thatâs what! âJohnny boy this feels so fucking good. Can you feel me, yet?â He pinches his brows together, clearly uncomfortable, âyouâre literally on my thigh right now, how could I not feel you-.â His face drops when itâs clear he can feel how wet you are through those beige khakis of his, âwhat-the-fuck?â Your soft moans fill the office, âoh god, Johnny Iâm close-already-fuuuuck this is amazing.â He goes to speak but your hand covers his mouth as you frantically ride his thigh faster, âjust shut up Johnny-let me finish-fuuuuck me.â
You rip open your shirt, dipping your head back and arch your back, âgrabâem! Grab my tits-please-pretty please.â God youâre so close, just need those goddamn hands of his to send you over the edge. He âums and âersâ so you grab his hands, putting them on your tits, âsqueezeâem, Johnny-please.â What else can he do but oblige, submitâŚabout fuckin time.
âOh my god-theyâre -theyâre so soft. Fuckin hell, dude.â He mumbles as he stares at your tits like youâre serving dinner. You move his thumbs over your nipples, âpinchâem johnny.â He tweaks them between his thumb and finger. âYeah-yeah-there we go-yeah so good, Johnny-donât stop.â You know he didnât have much experience with the ladies but fuck, he was doing a damn good job.
Your panties are drenched through, leaving dark dampness on his pants. âLook what youâre doing to me, Johnny. Fuck, you have know idea-fu-fuuuuck.â Youâre just at your peak but you want more, âsuck my tits, big guy-please-jus-.â You grab hold of his head and make him anyway. His wiry beard tickling around your areola, his tongue just circling your perky, pink nipples. Then surprisingly, he grabs hold of your waist and rocks you back and forth. âYou got me all, like-fuuuck me.â You practically squish him at your tit, âyea-ri-right there-fuuuuuccckkk-ah-fuck-ah-ah. Oh fuuuuckâ
My god, you soaked his pants, âfuck, Johnny boy-you made me squirt.â You say it through tagged breaths as your pussy still throbbed, âonly-guy to ever -make me do that. Well done, big man.â
After all that, you give him a kiss. âJohn-just wow, dude. Iâll be wanting to do that again.â He watches you stand, buttoning up what remains of your shirt, âwhat the fucks just happened?.â He says it in dry, raspy voice.
âJohn-you just made me a very happy woman thatâs what.â You flatten down your top and skirt, leaning down to kiss his cheek. âIâll go fax these papers, yeah?â And off you went, giving him a wink over your shoulder. He sat there dumbfounded, shaky breaths but then gives himself a smug grin, âgood job, big guy.â
He hears a âhey Peacemaker!â from you down the corridor, âhey sweet-cheeks!â Peacemaker, -shameless- then appears in the office. âHey dye-beard. See that sweet piece of ass thatâs just left? Youâd have be one lucky SOB to get a piece of that action, right?â He walks over to Johns desk, and parks his ass on the edge, stealing dried fruit from johns snacks.
âWhatâs that?â He points at Johns lap. The damp patch. Fuck. âI erm, erm-spilled over my drink, you know me, Iâm a-dumbass.â Peacemaker just shrugs it off and John smirks and thinks, dude if you only knew.
Here you go @/graveyardofemotions âŚđ I hope you like it, twas fun to write đđ
Story/ Mandela effects are evilđ This fic is all fluff, apart from a straddling. Got this idea from Peacemaker đ¤Ť
The Tipsy Bison is loud tonight-laughter, clinking glasses, the sound of boots scraping across wooden floors. The kind of night where even the cold outside canât dampen the glow inside Jackson. You sit tucked under Joelâs arm at a table, cheeks warm from whiskey and company. Tommy, Maria, and a handful of others from patrol are scattered around you, the circle closing tighter with each drink and each story.
It starts harmless, a passing comment about old kidsâ shows, but then it happens.
âNo, Iâm tellinâ you,â you insist, finger pointed, brow furrowed adorably (according to Joel), âitâs Berenstain Bears. Like-stain. An A in the middle.â
Tommy snorts into his drink. âAinât no way. It was always BerenstEIN. Everyone knows that.â
Maria nods. âI read those books growing up. It was stein.â
You whip around the table, betrayed. âJoel, back me up. Theyâre wrong.â
Joelâs lips curl slow, like heâs savoring you more than his glass. âBaby, I donât remember either way.â His eyes crinkle, and he leans closer to brush a kiss to your temple. âBut watchin you get worked up over a coupleâa cartoon bears might be the highlight of my goddamn night.â
You gasp, dramatic. âSo youâre taking their side?â
âNo, darlin. Iâm takin in the view.â He chuckles deep, loving. âPrettiest argument I ever seen.â
Tommy howls with laughter. Maria clinks glasses with him. And you?-you sit back with crossed arms and a stubborn pout, which Joel finds impossibly cute. He bumps his knee against yours under the table and murmurs, âYouâre probably right.â
But the debate follows you for weeks. Months. Years. A whimsical, stubborn hill you refuse to die on.
Joel never forgets.
Few Years Later
Winter gives Jackson a quiet hush. Snow clings to the window ledges, making the early morning light feel softer somehow. Youâre home when the front door opens, Joel returning from a supply run, stamping slushy snow from his boots.
âGot somethin for you,â he drawls, voice scratchy from cold, wind and travel.
You turn, expecting maybe jerky or a tin of coffee beans he knows you love. Instead, he holds out something wrapped in cloth, square and flat. His eyes shine-proud, just a little smug in that Joel Miller way.
You unwrap it slowlyâŚand freeze.
Berenstain Bears.
Not tattered scribbles. Not a half-destroyed cover.
A real, intact childrenâs book-the A right there in the middle like a victory flag.
Your heart leaps up into your throat. âJoel-you- you found it?!â
He grins like heâs been waiting years for this moment. âBeen searchin for ages. Raided old libraries n houses whenever I could. Knew you were right, darlin.â
You donât even speak, you drop the book gently on the couch, grab his shirt, and push him back until he sits. Then you climb onto his lap, straddling him, peppering his cheeks, jaw, mouth with little excited kisses. He laughs under you, hands wide on your hips, warm even through thick winter layers.
âYou beautiful, stubborn man,â you breathe between kisses.
âWell now,â he murmurs, voice gone deep and low, âif this is my reward for provin you right, I shouldve done it sooner.â
You nip his bottom lip playfully. âOh, Iâll be wanting more than that, darlin. Been lookin for these damn books for years.â Joel chuckles, eyes dark and soft all at once, pulling you even closer.
His mouth meets yours slow, sure, full of everything he never says outright-devotion, humour, the soft place he keeps just for you. Outside the snow falls quietly, but inside itâs warm and golden and perfect. You, Joel, and a book that proves what you knew all along.
Berenstain. With an A.
And tomorrow, you canât wait to rub it in everyoneâs face. God, you love Joel so much.
â˘â˘â˘
Hi! This is my first fic on tumblr, what did we think? đ¤ˇđźââď¸đ
Wasnât sure when to post so, I obviously chose now. Iâm not a writer perse, im dabbling abitđ
wasnât sure about how to lay this out, so I may have took a few ideas from peopleâŚ.this-this ok? Iâm new I donât know the rules. Apart from donât plagiariseđŤľđťđŤśđťâşď¸
the creature who is exploring your body- groping, licking, biting, etc - wondering why yours is so different from his. at first itâs nice and sometimes even tickles, but when you slowly respond to his touch its not long til heâs overstimulating you.
whispers of darkness
a/n: love love your mind babes because this had me nodding in solidarity at the screen. between jumping from a borrowed laptop and my phone this took a bit to write. but thankfully i managed to sit down and churn out the rest in a mad rush. and because it's me there's a bit of angst but like not really if i'm being honest. this was so fucking fun to write and i did change it up a tiny but i really love how it turned out. divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics.
summary: time ceased to exist when you found him in the forest, when he read to you by a fire, and the moment you kissed him with an earnest smile. OR letting the creature explore how he wants.
word count: 2.2k+
pairing: the creature x f!reader
warnings: explicit so minors dni 18+ only!! tiny itty bit of angst, romance, body worship of sorts, gothic love, overstimulation, edging, lots and lots of kissing, the use of my english lit degree, waxing poetically about needing to fuck the creature.
The baritone of his voice grew dark against the glow of a raging fire he started to keep you warm. Chunks of wood ripped clean off trees he toppled, brush gathered at the forestâs edge and packed in around the base, and a cauldronânow empty of stewâsettled on a hook in the center.
The pages were crinkled beneath his fingertips. Flipped delicately and set back into place as the curve of his spine bent forward to see the words better as night drowned the world in darkness again.
âI have loved her all my youth, But now old, as you see, Love likes not the falling fruit, From the withered tree.â
Your head pressed into his arm, fur draped over your legs as his voice washed over you. Calming waters strung together with blotches of ink, mistakes from the press no doubt yet still legible despite it all. He recited poetry like a whisper, reverence dripping off the stanzas and melting into your skin like chocolate on your tongue. Sweet, pleasant the longer he kept going.
âKnow that love is a careless child, And forgets promise past, He is blind, he is deaf when he list, And in faith never fast.â
âYour voice is practically warmer than the fire,â you mused, pressing your nose into the thin fabric of his shirtâthe cloth now smelling of rosemary and river water.
His hair was pinned back with twine you found in your pocket, giving you the chance to see his face in its entirety. The pale shades of his skin and muted gray tones of dead flesh sewn together with nimble fingers. You know the stories of his creator, listened intently as he recounted the years he spent on this plane of existenceâthe anguish in his throat that spilled out back tears and suffocating grief.
Solemnly uttered a year ago when you came across him in the woodsâlost to the world and yet returning from the icy tundra from where he once existed. To say you clung to one another was an understatement. He could see the strike of lightning that brought life to his bones in your eyes, the dark clouds of forever slowly dissipating the longer he remained in your vicinity.
You smiled at him as if youâd know him all your life. An old friend returning from the past. A new soul already etched into yours.
There was no other option but to take his hand in yours and let him follow where you went. Traipsing after you with earnest in his heart and a belonging in his bones. You saw love beneath scars and healed stitches. An eternity was trapped in a steady beating organ he knew belonged to you. He never said it aloud, terrified of your response even after the time you spent together.
But you knew in the way he pulled you close by the fire, his chin resting soft atop your head, thumb running smooth along the length of your forearm. Tracing your only scar that sat ugly and raised on the edge of your wrist. A disgusting promise of permanence from a man who once claimed to love youâa life you could forget in the deep rumble of his voice.
âTell me the end,â you breathed, tipping your head back to catch his gaze. âBefore we sleep.â
Lips pulled into a grin, fingers tugging the page over with a breath. âBut true Love is a durable fire, In the mind ever burning; Never sick, never old, never dead, From itselfâŚneverâŚturning.â
âMm,â you sighed. âI understand that.â
âTell me.â The bend in his neck was unconscious, a familiar instinct he did to hear you better, to feel the sound of your voice vibrate against his skin.
âTrue love being a durable fire.â
The crack of wood splintering beneath the heat and sparks scattering out into the air echoed in place of your voices. Shared breath taking over the space where your lips were so close to his. You kissed him once. Months ago in the warmer air as he followed you through the forest on a stroll to find herbs and flowers. It was quickâfleeting. Stolen and chaste beneath a tree that wept the petals of small pink flowers, a soft press with a smile before you were dashing away on a different path.
It wasnât until hours later that you wanted to ask what he thought. Pick his mind for more than just the comfort of friendship and hope it might evolve into more. But embarrassment won the battle warring in your mind, emotions traded for silence until life had no choice but to go on.
âNever sick,â he muttered, nose brushing yours as heat spilled into your cheeks. âNever old.â
âReminds me of you.â
His eyes shut, lashes a dark shadow along the tops of his cheeksâboth different lengths and some paler than others. âIâŚremind youâŚof love.â
âI like to believe-â Your fingers clasped around his wrist as you pulled his large palm to your face, allowing it to splay across your cheek. âThat you were made for me to love.â
Breath stuttered in his chest and you smiled at the soft choking sound that came from his throatâwarmth settling in the base of your stomach. This was inevitable. The wanting, the need for more than just friendship trapped within these four walls. He didnât just exist to be a stranger turned companion, he was yours. Never in the hand of his creator, nor in his command, but meant for you to spend your days with. To hear the promise of his love in every breath and flutter of his heart.
His mouth sealed over yours, clumsy and unsure, barely remaining a second before he started to pull away. But your hand stopped him. Your fingers pressed soft against his cheek and dragged him back with a gasp, tasting the weight of poetry on his tongue when you licked into him with a bitten back moan. The fire raged in your bones, spreading out to the tips of your toes as he banded an arm around your waist and yanked you up into his lap.
âWhat do IâŚâ The book hit the ground with a thud, your fingers quickly undoing the laces at the front of your bodice.
This was more than what you intended, but his curiosity kept you still and waiting. His dark gaze slid along your form uncovered by the thin fabric of your clothes, the top pooling around your waist and exposing your hard nipples to the cold air. Tension simmered between you, echoing with a loud breath he took when your hand guided his to the base of your throat.
You could feel the hesitation bleed into the air, fear of harming you, of doing something wrong, now pressing down on his shoulders. âHow?â he pleaded with wet eyes.
âTouch,â you breathed, leaning into his mouth with a grin. âWherever you wish.â
Nimble and trembling fingers traced the lines of your collarbone, the expanse of smooth skin so unlike his stitched together chest and abdomen. Marks littered his skin like a map he would never be able to retrace. Your body remained the way he imagined as you slept soundly beside himâunmarred by the cruelty of a creator, grown and formed and certainly not made.
You shuddered beneath his hand, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the first brush of his thumb along the curve of your breast. He wanted to study you. Watch the rise and fall of each breath, witness how your limbs pulled and bones shifted beneath hot skin that warmed his palm. And you would let him.
There would be no question, no resistance to his touch. You were pliant beneath him, malleable and soft as he cupped your breast and felt the weight in his handâyour nipple pressing into his rough skin.
âOh-â He flinched at the sharp gasp, but your hand clamping tight around his wrist kept him in place. âD-Donât stop.â
âYou echoed with pain.â
Lips molded to his with a breath he swallowed, a smile twisting soft against your mouth. âThat wasnât pain my love.â
The click of spit on your tongue trading the taste with him echoed in his ears, burning against pulsing skin as he dragged his mouth to your throat. He wanted to hear it again. That soft pull of breath and sharp pitch of your voice in the depths of your chest. Fingers pinched your nipple tentatively, pulling slow as your thighs clamped tight around his thighs, your head falling back and chest pushed forward.
âBliss,â you got out between heavy breaths. âItâs bliss.â
Pleasure, paradise, satisfaction.
The meaning was familiar to him now. As if his body recognized it long before he did, parts of his soul flickering to life at the sight of you writhing against the strokes of his hand. Need shot down your spine when his mouth suckled at your other breath, his hand gripping tight at your back when you went limp in his arms. A cry ripped free when he cupped at your breast, kneading it gently as spit glistened along your skin.
It was soft, a silent prayer etched into your form when his hand slid down to your bare waist. Fingers spreading along your ribcage and mapping the layout of a body heâd see behind shut eyes. You giggled at the stroke of his thumb against your stomach and until then he never realized the skin could be ticklish.
He wrenched free from your breast, heaving in a breath just to see you smile, to hear your laugh again. âSome parts are different than others.â
âMy side is tender,â you replied, curling your fingers into his now mussed hair. âIt usually doesnât get touched.â
âShould I move past it?â
âNo.â Another stolen kiss had him chasing you with a grin. âKeep going. Please.â
You couldnât exactly be sure how much time passed in the span of you being shifted from his lap to the pile of furs on the floor, but he had relented from his exploratory touches. Clothes were pulled off your form until you lay bare beneath him. With your legs hooked around his waist and his bare chest pressed to yours as heat crowded around you.
Something formed between the two of you. Expanding with every exhale until you could no longer ignore its existence. That unspeakable love you now felt press into the base of your chest. Thundering along your heart.
He watched the flutter in your chest as he dipped his hand between your thighs, the wet pool of slick jarring him for a brief moment until he was brave enough to see it web around his fingers.
Trembling beneath him, you felt his mouth seal over your breast again, his touch pressing against your folds as you sobbed brokenly. Your eyes were blurry with tears, body reaching past the limit you could take. But a part of you didnât want to tell him no.
It broke you to think of him pulling away, severed you down the center to imagine the loss of his touch. So you grit your teeth and let him bring you to a brink that continued to grow and fade in a pattern that broke you. The edge rushed up to meet you again as you shut your eyes and blindly grasped for it with a shuddering breath. A crest you knew would never crash, a flood of heat pulling tight at your stomach.
He began to pull away, to slide his hand over your thigh, but something kept him there. Dark eyes latched onto your twisted up face, your mouth falling open the moment his fingers pressed against you roughly. The shake in your thigh should have let him know, but heâd never seen someone like this before.
Oblivious to the signs of what you could feel in your bones. It snapped with your cracked shout, his face pressed in close as another gush of slick poured out of your fluttering hole.
Tears spilled onto your temples, your eyes fluttering open to see his mouth parted in a gasp and feel his breath on your cheek. But the burn of pain had you yanking at his arm to make him stopâyour mouth finding his with a soft pleased sigh.
âThat was bliss,â he stated, touching your hip as you came down with shallow gasps of air.
You nodded, feeling his tongue press soft against yours. âThat was more than bliss.â
He smiled. âThe fires of love then.â
âWellâŚit did say it would never die.â
Brushing two fingers along your cheek, he watched in rapture when you chased their touch, your nose nuzzling into his palm. âWill the embers of it die out one day?â
âNo,â you vowed. âNot as long as Iâm with you.â
âThe companion I sought but could not find?â
âIt was I who found you.â The words wound tight around his heart. âOr were you looking for me all this time?â
His nose pressed against your cheek. âI searched for what seems like centuries.â
âThen time has finally ceased.â Wet fingers cupped your neck to tilt you closer. âYouâve found me my love. Your companion.â
A smile was traded between kisses, his other hand reaching for the furs to drape over your bodies. âA durable fire.â
My daughters all cozy in bed with zzzzs coming out of her room and lm sobbing my little heart out cause Iâm overstimulated, tired, hungry and horny as fuck but I got a shit ton of stuff to do and no time to do itâŚIâll have to cry as I go, got no time to stop.
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