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jokeringcutio · 11 months

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DRABBLE/ Insomnia!READER X THE GRABBER

Fandom: Black Phone 2022

Pairing: The Grabber/ Albert Shaw x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Kidnapping, Dark!, Non-con/Dub-con, Forced!Blowjob, Smut, Insomnia!Reader, Kidnapped!Reader, Victim!Reader. Implied age gap/ older man/younger woman, somnophilia, use of Little/good Girl.

AN: for @ninakuli How would the Grabber react if the reader couldn’t get to sleep? Well, this might be one of the ways.

“Can’t sleep?”

The rough voice made you look up from your position lying on the moldy mattress. You wondered how anyone could sleep here. A stranger’s house, a damp basement, an unknown environment. The walls were bare except for the painting peeling down. The tiny barred window that let in the only light, whether it was day or night because of the lamp that hung in front of it, was up too high. The walls absorbed any sound. It was a prison made with hellish barriers.

And then there was that stranger who came watching. You never knew when he would be down here. Never knew what he would do next. It had you on edge. How could anyone ever sleep when he was around?

So far, he’d mostly been down to watch you, talk to you, work on your mind until his words confused you and you started to believe you’d ended up here all because of your own doing. That you deserved being here.

But there had been that one time when you had pretended to have been asleep, eyes closed, in hopes he would become bored and turn away. But instead of leaving, you had heard his breathing deepen. And then you had felt his hand between your thighs, fingers pressing deep into your clothed skin until one finger curled against your covered cunt. You could still feel his fingertip press against your sensitive bud. The touch hadn’t lasted long, for you’d shot up instantly and his hand had been back by his side almost just as fast. But you were certain it had not been a dream.

And now you were scared of him. Frightened, that if you were to go to sleep, he might take you in it. That he might claim your body as his own when you could not fight back.

Anxiety ate you, piece by piece until it wrecked your nerves and made you shiver with fearful anticipation. Any sound would trigger a panicked reaction and would have you sit up and open your eyes. Because he is here again, isn’t he? Even when he wasn’t. You were constantly alert, ready to shy away from any advances he might try to make.

And so, you blinked up at him fearfully while you wondered what he would be doing next. He’d commented on your lack of sleep the past few times he’d been down there, annoyed that he couldn’t watch you sleep like he had the others. You didn’t know how many had been here before you, only that he somehow seemed to enjoy observing them when they weren’t awake.

Creep, you thought. You wondered if he got off of it. And why he couldn’t just enjoy you while you were awake?

Perhaps that had been a wrong thought to have, because what he said next made shivers run down your spine.

“I know just the thing.” Just the thing for what? To make you sleepy? You wondered for a moment if he referred to some kind of drug, or if he might just knock you out with one of his fists. But he did neither.

He cocked his head to the side, the mask’s chin pointed at his right shoulder. He was observing you, his stance pensively. What was he thinking? But then you regretted that thought when the man came over to you, coming closer than he had in the past few days.

“An ancient old medicine,” he said, voice low and gruff, while he started to unbuckle his belt. And that was the moment you realized what he might be implying. What he might want from you. He probably had wanted this all along.

Your eyes grew wide with fear as you tried to crawl back on the mattress until your back hit the wall and you couldn’t back away any further. “It has proven to be very effective over time,” his husky voice sounded. Then a chuckle emerged from behind the mask as he pushed his pants and underpants down to reveal an achingly hard cock, pre-cum dripping from the tip and glistening in the faint light that fell in from the window above.

The belt was wrapped around his right fist, the end of it dangling in front of you.

You tried to shield your eyes with your hands. “Please,” you begged when you noticed he’d stepped even closer and completely ignored the fact that you had tried to get away. “No, please,” his hand was upon your wrist, yanking it away to uncover your eyes. You looked up at him, tears glistening in your eyes, while you pleaded for him to spare you. “I’ll go to sleep,” you said, voice choked by tears. “Please, I’ll be good. I’ll go to sleep. You don’t need to do this.”

He paused in his actions and there was that tilt of his head again as he studied you through the hole-eyes of the mask. The belt dropped from his hand and fell to the basement floor with a clank.

His right hand came up to your cheek and you flinched, afraid he might slap you there. But his touch was gentle, his palm lightly upon your skin. You opened your eyes again to look up at him mistrustingly and wished you could tell what kind of expression he held behind that darned mask he was wearing.

You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was taking his time, standing there, only inches away from you. He was gently caressing your cheek, his thumb tracing circles. The motion was soothing as if he was trying to comfort you. It worked as well, for you felt your shoulders relax somewhat, despite your brain being on full alert.

His other hand was holding his cock. The aching hard member twitched in his grip as a new spurt of pre-cum droplets emerged from the tip. You tried not to look at it, which was hard as his shaft was on eye-level with you, ready to be brought to your lips.

Would he do it? You wondered how far he would go. He hadn’t touched you before like this. He’d been mostly at a distance. Except for that one time. But it figured he would eventually succumb to these primal desires. Why else had he taken you? If it had been just to kill then he would have done so already. Why keep you alive if not for this?

You whimpered, slightly trembling under his caress. A low hum escaped the masked man, then he stood straight again and you saw him move his upper body. The vest he was wearing fell open, his naked stomach showed. Round, you thought, pudgy. Yet, the muscles that showed on his chest betrayed your kidnapper was a man of strength. A strength that was confirmed almost instantly when he suddenly reached for you.

You felt your head being yanked towards him, and his shaft that had been angled at your lips was now pressed against them, begging you to spread them wide. He kept pushing, roughly, until the meat was between your lips and the head of his cock was upon your tongue. The salty taste of flesh mixed with the bitterness of the pre-cum filled your mouth and you hollowed your cheeks. And then he started to thrust.

You looked up at him, pleading silently for his mercy. But at the sight of your tear-stained eyes, his thrusts grew even fiercer and his grip on your head even tighter. You were left with no alternative but to suck, accepting his cock deep inside your throat.

Low, deep rumbles came from the depth of his chest when you started to cooperate. He was pleased, humming and moaning ‘oh yeah’ and ‘just like that’. Sounds that vibrated through his cock until you felt them in your mouth.

Dirty, your mind provided you while he moved you up and down his shaft. The salty and bitter taste of him filled you completely. The curly hairs around his manhood pressed into your nostrils when he pushed your head forward, blocking off your chance to breathe. You sputtered around him, feeling the tip at the back of your throat, feeling his cock spasm between your lips.

You gurgled and sputtered, trying not to choke. A moment of respite when he slid your head back again and his cock nearly left your lips, but then he pushed forward again until his hips met your cheek and your nose was nestled deep within his pubic hair.

You gasped and tried to claw at his hips, but all you felt was how he kept a tight grip on your head and stilled his movements, leaving his cock deep between your lips, the head pushing the back of your throat.

The process repeated itself a few more times, until his cock finally slipped from your lips and you were left gasping for air. A trail of sperm and saliva dripped from your lips and ran down your chin. You moved your hand up to wipe it away, but he caught your wrist before you could get there.

Staring up at him with wide eyes, you heard a chuckle derive from behind the mask. “Na-ah,” the man tusked, his low gravelly voice making something twist deep inside you. A longing, a tingle that had you squeezing your legs together. A foreboding feeling washed over you, that he wasn’t finished just yet. That this was only the beginning.

“Leave it there,” the man hummed. The pause that followed felt too long, making you writhe uncomfortably while you waited for him to either speak or let go of your hand. In the end, he did both, nearly at the same time. “I think I will have to cover your face in a layer of my spunk next time,” there was that rasp again. You had heard it before, how he could slide from a normal, almost gentle tone, into a demonic rasp that was usually used when he was angry and full of curses. “Paint your face a nice white with my cum,” he clicked his tongue behind the mask. His voice became lighter again.

“But for now, there’s another way I have in mind to tire you.”

You shivered at the promise and tried to back away again. The man in front of you got hold of his throbbing cock, wrapping his left hand around it. You saw how his fingers curled around the glistening shaft, still covered in your saliva, and watched how the veins throbbed when he moved his hand up and down at a firm but gentle pace. The ring on his finger glinted in the weak light, skin rippling as he pumped his hand up and down his throbbing cock. Still hard. Balls underneath heavy with cum.

“Undress, sweetie,” he cooed, voice soft like honey. But when you refused to do as he said, his tone turned drier and more menacing again.

What happened next was much of a blur. He made you undress for him, tweak your nipples for him, rub your hands up and down your bare chest for him while he watched and laughed and licked his tongue past his teeth at the show. His hand never ceased moving up and down slowly, hardening himself underneath his touch until he thought it was enough.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart,” it took only one command and you were back on your back on the mattress. Your bare back scrubbed along the mold. Even covered in the dark shade of the mask, you could see the glistening of his eyes, pupils wide. You hesitatingly spread your legs for him.

He crawled over you, cock still in his hand, and pressed your legs apart to fit himself in between. His right hand was on your thigh, palm pressed against your soft skin. His left hand guided his cock to your quivering cunt until you felt the head kiss your labia. A wet feeling against your pussy lips and you realized he was smearing his pre-cum at your entrance, deliberately rubbing the head of his cock up and down your entrance while some of the pre-cum came seeping out.

Your fingers clawed at his shoulders and your lips parted in a gasp. “Please,” you begged, knowing it to be futile. Then he dipped in, just the head. Careful fingers pressed the tip in. Not enough to hurt yet, just enough to tease.

He paused in his actions just to bend down, his hair brushed against your cheek as he whispered near your face. “That’s my good girl.”

Then he thrust forth without mercy.

You were speared upon his cock that night, in the basement that was your prison. He left you sore and tired as he forced orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling body beneath him.

He’d been right. You closed your eyes and fell into a dreamless slumber afterward, relieved when he finally rose from the bed and left you alone. You were too tired to notice when the Grabber returned for you in the midst of the night to get some more relief. Until you faintly awoke to wet sounds and the odd feeling of something thrusting deep inside you.

“Hush, pretty girl,” the low voice whispered in your ear, hips moving relentlessly while he kept pushing himself inside. One hand was on your breast, squeezing it tightly while he toyed with you. His other arm was around your waist, his knee between your legs as he held you from behind, your cunt squeezing down on his cock which was covered in your mixed juices.

“I’ll make you go to sleep soon, little one. Don’t you worry. I’ll make you sleep real deep.”

#Going real deep here #the grabber x reader #dark smut #grabber x you #albert shaw x reader drabble #drabble fill #prompt fill #insomnia reader dark fic

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stupidbeemeen · 6 months

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I just think about the grabber’s drabble. I already have a plot.

What if y/n is his neighbor and always be brat towards him? They like to mimic and hit his nerve.

And he decides to punish them in a way they will not forget

#I wanna try to write some drabbles but English isn’t my first language #albert shaw #the grabber #ethan hawke #albert shaw x reader

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slasher-male-wife · 2 years

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About me and request rules

Hey I'm Ziggy and this is my blog where I obsess over men and sometimes women. I use he/him and I'm 18. I really like fall stuff, vampires, Halloween in general, and my special interest is specifically horror movies. My favorite horror movie is Texas chainsaw massacre. My side account is @slashers-offical-boyfriend and my non fan fiction account is @living-dead-author. Below is the information on my request rules and info. Enjoy your stay <3

Master list Ao3 account Depop

Taken anons: 🦝🌾🎟🐾🫀🤡🐚🍼👻♠️ 13 🎸🦇🦌🐝 🦕🎨

Requests: open

Match ups: closed

Do not interact with me if you are

Homophobic

transphobic

racist

Are a proshipper

Just a republican in general

Ed blog

Under 16

Terf/Swerf

Match up rules

Specify the fandom you want and your gender preference.

Include things like hobbies, dream career, ideal parter, personality traits gender identity.

Feel free to include anything else you think is important.

Make them as long as you think they should be.

Will do

Fluff

Light or regular angst

head cannons

drabbles

fics

gore

hurt x comfort

x gn, male, trans masc and ftm reader

Autistic, depressed, anxious, etc reader (I won’t write about mental health issues/ mental illnesses unless I have it myself or I feel comfortable enough portraying it)

Darker topics like past mentions of abuse, sh, kidnapping, murder, etc all with proper trigger warnings

poly stories and head cannons (unless you tell me you want them to be poly I won’t write them as poly)

Slashers in a Dbd setting if they're actually in the game

Yandere characters (I think I know how to write one)

Iffy (Not common or might not write about depending on the request)

character x character

suicidal reader

Characters hurting reader on purpose

Recovering Ed related things

Heavy angst (More likely to be written with a happy ending)

Age regressing reader (Only if it's sfw)

x fem reader (Won't be very common for now unless it's essential to the fic)

I won’t do

sexual fics or head cannons

Child reader

pregnant reader

parent reader

Pro Ed related anything

Characters

Horror characters

Scream: Billy Loomis, Stu Macher

Black Christmas: Billy Lenz

Halloween: Michael Myers (og or rob zombie), Corey Cunningham

The Boy: Brahms Heelshire

Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Nubbins Sawyer, Chop top Sawyer, Vanita "Stretch" Brock

House of wax: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair

Behind the mask: Leslie Vernon

House of 1000 corpses: Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly

The Lost boys: David, Paul, Marko, Dwayne, Michael, Star

The Black phone: The Grabber/Albert Shaw

Spree: Kurt Kunkle

Friday the 13th: Jason Voorhees, Tommy Jarvis

Child's play: Tiffany Valentine

Re-animator: Herbert West, Dan Cain

Carrie: Carrie White

Saw: Amanda Young, Adam Faulkner, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm

Candy man: The Candy man/ Daniel Robitaille

31: Doomhead

Psycho: Norman Bates

My bloody valentine: Harry Warden

American psycho: Patrick Bateman

Hannibal nbc: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter

Near dark: Severen

Laid to rest: Jesse Cromeans

Martin: Martin Mathias

The Collector: Asa Emory/The Collector

Thanksgiving: Sheriff Eric Newlon

The Walking dead

Daryl Dixon

Rick Grimes

Negan Smith

Glenn Rhee

Maggie Rhee

Dead by Daylight

Danny Johnson/Ghostface

Pyramid head

Any slasher listed in the above section that is in dbd

Interview with the vampire 1995

Lestat De Lioncourt

Louis De Pointe Du Lac

Call of Duty

Phillip Graves

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

Misc. Characters

Johnathan Crane/Scarecrow (DC, based off Cillian Murphy portrayal)

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bosinclairsgff · 9 months

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Requests Rules <3

Hey everyone, I want to get back into writing fanfiction and stuff like that! So here are my request rules and other important things to know! (I used to only write on Wattpad so I'm new to using Tumblr pls be nice <3)

Requests: open

Will do

Hurt x comfort

Fluff

Head cannons

Sometimes mentions of abuse, kidnapping, murder or sh (there will be trigger warnings)

Light angst

Drabbles

Characters hurting the reader (there will be a tw)

Reader with depression or anxiety

Won't do

Pregnant reader

Child reader

Parent reader

x male, ftm, mtf or poly reader (I am not qualified to write about those as I have no experience involving them)

Characters I will write for

Halloween: RZ Micheal Myers, Corey Cunningham

Amusement: The Laugh

The Boy: Brahms Heelshire

Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Nubbins Sawyer, Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Chop Top Sawyer, Drayton Sawyer, Vilmer Sawyer

Scream: Stu Matcher, Billy Loomis, Amber Freeman, Sydney

Friday The 13th: Jason Voorhees

House Of Wax: Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair

Saw: Amanda Young, Mark Hoffman

House Of 1,000 corpses: Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly

American Psycho: Patrick Bateman

Child's Play: Tiffany Valentine

The Black Phone: The Grabber/Albert Shaw

The Collector: Arkin

Silent Hilld/DBD: Pyramid Head

Carrie: Carrie White

Ghost Ship: Jack Ferriman

Thirteen Ghosts: Dennis Rafkin

The Shining: Jack Torrance, Wendy Torrance

The Invitation: Walter Deville

Midnight Mass: Father Paul

The funhouse massacre: Doll face

A nightmare on Elm Street (2010) : Quentin Smith

My Bloody Valentine 3-D: Tom Hanniger

Don’t breathe: Norman Nordstrom

The Purge Anarchy: Leo Barnes

Midsommer: Pelle

Thanksgiving: Sheriff Eric Newlon

Leather face (2017) : Jedediah Sawyer

American horror story : Kai anderson, kit walker

Jennifer’s Body : Jennifer Check

You : Love Quinn

Resident Evil (movies): Dr. Isaac, Alice, Jill Valentine

Re- animator: Herbert West

Urban Legend: Brenda

DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY ACCOUNT IF YOU ARE

Homophobic

Fatphobic

Transphobic

Racist

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mandowifey · 2 years

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Link Directory.

Read Me (My rules and will/will not list)

Character List (updated 3/11/2024)

Fic Status and Updates (Trello)

ALL Finished Writing Below Cut!

× × ×

Story Masterlist (characters)

Miguel O'hara

Series;

The Start of Something - Ellison Oswalt x Reader

Chapter 1 - SFW

Chapter 2 - NSFW

My Goddess - Arthur Harrow x Reader (NSFW, contains prts 1-3)

Memories - Homelander x Reader

Right place Right time - Ray Harris x Reader

Chapter 1 - NSFW

Chapter 2 - NSFW

Chapter 3 - NSFW

Magic - Albert Shaw/Grabber x Reader (Oneshot | NSFW)

Short stories/Oneshots/Drabbles;

Feral - Edward Dalton x Reader (Drabble | NSFW)

Chase - Edward Dalton x Reader (One Shot | NSFW)

Surprise - Russel Millings x Reader (One Shot | NSFW)

Deck the halls - James Sandin x Reader (One Shot | NSFW)

Potluck - Father Paul x Reader (Short blurb | SFW)

Touch - Na'vi Quaritch x Human Reader (NSFW)

Fancy You - Albert Shaw/The Grabber x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Porouge - Father Paul Hill × Fem!Reader

Headcanons!

Soft Edward Dalton! (SFW, Fem!Reader)

Ray Harris x (18+) Reader! (NSFW)

Colonel Quaritch (Na'vi) (SFW)

Jack Duquesne Crush! (SFW)

First Kiss With Jack Duquesne! (SFW)

Arthur Harrow & Albert Shaw as Fathers (SFW)

Johnathon Ohnn Fatherhood (SFW)

Miguel O'hara Fatherhood (SFW)

Miguel O'hara Eggs (NSFW)

Dark!Miguel O'hara HC's (SFW)

Lalo Salamanca 'weird' HC's (NSFW)

Match-ups

Russel Millings x Reader (NSFW)

James Sandin x Reader (SFW)

Father Paul x Reader (SFW)

Bo and Vincent Sinclair x Reader(NSFW)

Jolly TSP x Reader (SFW)

Ellison Oswalt x Reader (SFW)

Edward Dalton x Reader (Light NSFW)

Arthur Harrow x GN!Reader (SFW)

#first time writer #drabble

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nicktremblaywayfu · 2 years

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Alvin Harrow's Masterlist (Moon Knight, Outlast and others)

My Ao3

Request : Open

This Masterlist will be updated every time i posted a new work

Arthur Harrow

Scenepacks

All Arthur Harrow Scenepacks

Fanfictions :

With a Cost of Dignity (18+)

Personal Emotional Support (18+)

Happiness For You (SFW)

A Holy Dawn Blessing (18+)

To Proof My Love Tonight (18+)

Arthur Harrow with His Daughter (Drabble)

You Were Luckier Than You Thought, Harrow (18+)

The Creation of Ammit ( Chapter 1, ) 18+

Won't You Say Hi to An Old Friend ? (18+)

The Little Bird I should Put in A Cage (18+)

Arthur Harrow x Jake Lockley (SFW)

Reader Being Brat to Harrow (Drabble) (SFW)

Arthur Harrow x OC (Moots request) (SFW)

A Private Session (18+)

Arthur Harrow x Steven Grant (Drabble) (SFW)

In The Middle of Summer (18+)

Imagine calling him Harrow instead of Arthur (Imagine)

"Tired" is All I Need Tonight (18+)

And I Shall Break The Moon's Heart to See You Smile (18+)

The Goddess Tied Our Fate ( 1 / 2 ) 18+

Desired Purity (SFW)

Killing You Would be An Act of Mercy (18+)

Additional Pleasure (18+)

Persistence (drabble)

And I Shall Be with You, Always (18+)

A Price for The Traitor to Pay (18+)

Personal Paradise (18+)

Rain on Us (SFW)

Fighter (18+)

Headcanons :

Arthur X Boyish Reader

Dr. Harrow x Moot's Original Character (SFW and NSFW)

Patient! Harrow NSFW Headcanons (18+)

Arthur Harrow x Reader with period pain

Arthur Harrow x F!Reader with Alopecia

Arthur Harrow x Steven Headcanons (NSFW) 18+

Being A Child of Harrow

Arthur Harrow x Reader with Cluster B Disorder

Arthur Harrow x Parent figure! Reader

Jealous Arthur Harrow

Arthur Harrow x Weight Insecure! Reader

Arthur's Backstory.

Having a family with Arthur Harrow

Arthur Harrow with GN! Shorter reader

NSFW Alphabets with Arthur Harrow

The Enneads :

Loving the Gods (Ammit, Khonshu, Taweret. SFW)

Ammit x Reader x Khonshu (Incorrect Quotes)

The Goddess Tied Our Fate ( 1 / 2 ) 18+

Won't You Say Hi to An Old Friend ? (18+)

The Moon System And Layla

Arthur Harrow x Steven Headcanons (NSFW) 18+

Arthur Harrow x Jake Lockley (SFW)

Arthur Harrow x Steven Grant (Drabble) (SFW)

Other Ethan Hawke characters :

Ernst Toller x Reader (NSFW Headcanons)

For talks about assorted Ethan Hawke characters, please visit the tag of "Alvin's Thought"

Outlast

Like A Wolf in The Ruins (18+)

What's The Reward for The Dunce ? (18+)

Deputy on Duty (18+)

Special

Valentine's Letters

Author Note :

If i didn't make your request, this doesn't mean you can't send me another. Sometime i don't have the time or the idea, but you are 100% allowed to send me new ideas.

Please tell me if you wanted a fics, hc, drabble, or etc. If it wasn't specified, i would write the request as hc list or fics.

Also please specify if you wanted smut in your request (sometimes the idea was so good that i wanna write smut in it lol)

All my x reader is gender neutral unless it was specific request or my personal smut, which usually used afab! reader. The gender however, still neutral.

I will write :

Characters :

Arthur Harrow (Mainly what i write)

The Enneads (Khonshu, Ammit, Taweret)

The Moon Bois

Layla El-Faouly

Albert Shaw

Ernst Toller

Ellison Oswald

Outlast character (Mainly Big Grunt)

Genre :

Smut

Fluff

Headcanons

Drabble

Requested Trope

Dead Dove

Gender / Sex specific reader request

Yandere characters

I will not write :

Age Regression

Romantic trope involving minor characters / incest

Hardcore BDSM ( Got nothing against it. Im just not good at writing bdsm, sorry. Mild one however, i can try)

Religion-based request (Again, not really good at writing it. Doesn't include Enrst Toller as i focus on the romance with his religion aspect in the story but that's all)

F/M Anal / Pegging (talking about it is okay tho)

Feel free to give me request or ask any question regarding of my works

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jokeringcutio · 9 months

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Little Bunny (A Black Phone Drabble) - Grabber x (F) Reader

Drabble fill for the Anon who so kindly donated to me. Anon Wrote: My prompt will be a girl gets nabbed by the grabber, & when he goes through her backpack, he finds she carries around a yellow comfort plush bunny (mocks and coos at her for it?) srry if thats weird lmao AN: Thank you for your donation. With your money I am already on my halfway goal of buying a new pair of glasses :D Which I really need, so thank you loads. You have no idea how much this means to me <3 Rating: NC-17 Due to themes, smut-related words and references. Little Bunny – Grabber x Reader

When you opened your eyes it was to the hunched form of a man. His lean, slender frame was bent over something, his back to you. You could faintly see the traces of his shoulder-length hair. Like Gollum hunched over his most coveted treasure.

Your vision was blurry, so you sat up and rubbed your eyes. Something sturdy was beneath you, not as soft as it should have been but no stones either. The room around you was dark and murky. There was a dull pounding in your skull and your lungs ached as if you’d inhaled too much smoke. Vague flashes of memories suddenly hit you. Of a man. A van. Black balloons. And you, polite and kind as ever, offering to help him.

Had your own kindness gotten you into this predicament? It did not seem fair.

Once your gaze slid back to the man, you noticed that he had turned around to look at you. But instead of meeting a human expression, you met the artificial smile of a pale devil with horns. No human face was visible. The man was wearing a mask to obscure his features from you, a sign that whatever he had in mind for you wasn’t going to be something good.

Devilish intentions, you thought, while a shudder of fear ran down your spine. A monster. Not a man.

“Ah, so you are awake,” his low voice groused. But there was a certain playfulness to it. As if he was somehow twisting his voice into a caricature version of his own. He was toying with you. You brought your hand up to your chest at the realization, breathing rapidly while you tried to remain calm.

“Where am I?” You asked the first question that came to mind. Your sight was still returning to you, but you’d quickly noticed your surroundings. The same plain walls stared at you, all around. The only piece of furniture, if it could be described as such, was the mattress you woke up on.

“What are you doing with my bag?” you asked, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the blotted mattress. You noticed something sticky beneath your hands and glanced down shortly to see the many spots that must have been created by fluids. But what kind, you didn’t wish to give a thought.

You quickly looked up at your captor again. He was squatted next to your bag. The horrendous mask was directed at you, his eyes glinted behind it.

“Where am I?” you asked once more, as he still had not replied yet.

But it was as if your words were absorbed. You frowned slightly, aware that something wasn’t quite right – other than being abducted. Still, the man did not reply. Instead, he seemed to let out a heavy sigh - judging by the way his shoulders rose and then slumped again. And then he finally turned his head away from you to bring his focus back onto the contents of your bag.

You watched how the man removed a pen from the bag and seemed to study it. The mask tilted to the side while his finger stroked sensually past the plastic pen. Then, his hand up until his wrist disappeared into your bag again. A low breath could be heard, muffled behind the mask’s lips. Was he excited? A shudder, then his hand slowly emerged from your bag again. You half expected to see the pen again, but he had taken out your phone instead.

He studied it with a quiet curiosity. And you watched him with the same silent morbid curiosity. His thumb stroked past the edge until it pressed the power button. Your screen flashed to life shortly before it was silenced and darkness consumed the screen. The man was studying your things, you realized, as he tossed the phone back in and pulled out the next of your belongings.

His hands stroked with reverence past each item that he took out. He rattled your keys gently, then revealed a few items you always carried with you, then your wallet. There was an erotic kind of curiosity to the way he studied each little thing. You thought he had touched everything inside.

Everything, except one thing.

“Now, what do we have here?” The man’s voice made your breath hitch in your throat. It was low, ungodly so. You felt how a spark of longing shot deep into your core. Slick gathered between your folds and you quickly pressed your knees together, forcing your legs to rub against each other in an attempt to ignore what his voice was doing to you.

How could you get this aroused from sound alone? Once again, it wasn’t fair.

You shyly glimpsed away, afraid that he would notice your reaction or see the blush that must be on your cheeks. Apparently, it did not work, for the man had turned towards you fully now and took a deep breath. You heard it. Heard the inhale, heard the slight rasp to it. Then a low chuckle.

“Isn’t that cute?” the man continued, and you would have tried to avoid looking his way if it hadn’t been for the plush bunny he held in his hands. Reverently, as with all of your belongings, he held it, carried it almost on his palms. A yellow plush bunny that gave you comfort when times were harsh – and they had been lately.

If your cheeks hadn’t been red before, they certainly flushed now. Ashamed, you stared at him and bit your lip, biting down any comments you might have wanted to make.

“Why would a big girl like you have a need for a thing like this?” And it was a good question he asked, one that you often had asked yourself during your weaker moments. But then you always reminded yourself of the comfort it brought you. Was owning a plush animal such a bad thing for an adult? Did it make you weak or foolish?

If anything, you thought daring to carry your bunny around with you had always made you stronger.

Then his voice broke you out of your thoughts. Any leering comments you had expected were swapped aside for something far more sinister.

“Is it that you want to have something to cuddle with?” he hummed, the tone’s implication clear. “Or someone?”

A shiver ran down your spine as you realized what he must be hinting at, and you carefully scooted farther away from the stranger and as far back onto the dingy mattress as you could, until your back hit the hard wall. Eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief, you held up an arm in front of you as if to stop him from getting any closer.

“Ah, suddenly getting shy?” the man cooed before you could even utter a word in your defense. You watched as he moved his arms to his sides. Your plush bunny was pressed against his hip, flattened with its soft face against the hardness of his hipbone, its ears tapped against the cold metal of the man’s belt.

And you winced. Your poor bunny.

“Please, sir,” finally you found your voice and the opportunity to get a word in between the man’s rambling. “It’s mine, my comfort bunny. Could you give it back?”

The mask tilted but there was no mistaking. His eyes were directed at your outstretched hand, your arm still in front of you, muscles slightly trembling. And something started to smolder in them. Some kind of perverted dark pleasure was visible in his eyes.

“That’s all right,” the man’s voice was low and leering. For a moment you expected him to hand back your plush toy. But then you saw him raise the bunny to his mask and heard the rough rasp of his voice. “You won’t be needing this any longer. If it is comfort you seek, then it is comfort I shall give you.”

And against all of your expectations, down the bunny went, onto the dirt-covered stone floor. Without thinking you dove forward to catch it, ending up in front of the man’s feet on the floor.

Your hand came to rest upon the plush fur of your most beloved toy, when suddenly a shoe was upon it, crushing the back of your hand under the rubber soles of a sturdy shoe. You lay vulnerably in front of the man, completely at his mercy. A pained groan escaped you through gritted teeth, and you looked up to meet the devilish silhouette that towered above you.

Your kidnapper seemed nothing more but a shadow, the mask’s features hidden in the darkness of the room. But his eyes, oh! They glinted like embers in the night. A pure evil shone within them; the promise of a devil.

“I think,” the low murmured words fell silent on the basement’s tiles and he added a little more weight onto your hand, just enough that the pain became unbearable, but not enough to crack bones. “You and I are going to get real comfortable around each other, sweetheart.”

Then, his foot lifted from your hand, making you gasp in relief. Your other hand cradled your hurt one, bringing it close to your chest, your bunny as well – no way you were going to let go of it now.

Your kidnapped looked down at you, hands on his hips, and huffed. “Oh yes,” his voice lowered another notch until the low vibrations sent tingles of pleasure down your sopping cunt. Despite being scared, you felt the thrill of being in this man's hands. Especially when his low murmur brought another promise:

“Real comfortable.”

#anon answered #drabble fill #black phone drabble #not quite smut yet #yellow plush bunny #reader x grabber #grabber x reader #comfort plush #I love bunny plushies myself so thank you for this request #albert shaw x reader #not beta read but I didn't want to postpone it any longer

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jokeringcutio · 1 year

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DRABBLE/ AMNESIA!READER X THE GRABBER [PART 1]

Fandom: Black Phone 2022 Pairing: The Grabber/ Albert Shaw x Reader Rating: Mature (with explicit follow ups) Warnings: Kidnapping, scolding, Amnesia!Reader, Headache!Reader, Head injury. Implied age gap/ older man/younger woman.

A warmth surrounded you, comfortable and strong. Muscles, you thought. Someone holding you. And the scent of muskiness, of someone’s essence you were being drenched in. Enveloped. Surrounded. It brought you back to the waking world. A dull pain was in the back of your skull and throbbed behind your eyes.

The first thing you woke up to was the greyness of shapes in the dark, and a gruff voice hissing at you. “I should gut you for making me carry you all the way. Do my back in carrying you.”

You blinked, opening your eyes fully to find a concrete wall in front of you. A shimmering shade in front of it, like a black silhouette that swayed until your eyes managed to focus and you found yourself frowning at the shape of a man.

A man with a mask on.

“But no, here you are. All luxurious,” his voice was high-pitched, twisted. Then became dangerously low again. “Well, I hope you’ll be grateful, girl.”

What was he moping about, you wondered? You blinked again and tried to ignore the sharp pian in your skull. Your hand flew up to press against the sore spot on your head in an attempt to alleviate the pain. Your mouth was dry, lips parched and tongue lolling. You had trouble finding your words. And yes, it felt like you lost them. Like they had been scattered all over the grimy basement floor.

What was happening?

The man waited patiently, observing you from his spot opposite you. His arms were folded in front of his chest. The mask betrayed no emotions that lay underneath. Not that you could have read them anyway, not with the state of mind you were in.

When you finally looked up at him it was with innocent questioning eyes. The look within them caught the man by surprised. His breath hitched in his throat, his chest remained raised while his arms unfolded. He had seen something in them he could not quite place, something so innocent it surprised him. Not the anger he expected. Not the accusations he had anticipated.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” you started, stuttering and stammering as you tried to get your tongue to move the right way to form words. “You must excuse me, I am being awfully impolite.”

The man’s rapid breathing had stopped. Instead, eyes covered by shadows stared deeply into yours while you tried to scramble for words. “I am afraid I forgot my manners,” you let out a small laugh, but instantly winced as the movement and sound pained both your skull as well as your ears. Dang, what had happened to you? Had you hit your head or something?

You saw the mattress on which he had placed you but didn’t register the fact that there was no bed underneath nor that it was covered in grime. Your head hurt too much to give it any thought, so you lay down without questioning. “I am so sorry,” you whispered, then hummed, “tired.”

Behind the mask, the man’s eyes widened. “You’re going to lay down?” he asked, and was that worry you heard seep through in his voice?

You wanted to nod, but the movement hurt. And so you kept to a low hum while you flung an arm to cover your eyes. It dulled the pain inside your skull. When the man remained quiet, you decided he needed more of an answer, and gathered the strength to speak again.

“I’m tired,” you said, voice a whisper.

Finally, the man moved away from his spot on the opposite wall and crouched down next to the mattress. He reached out a hand, calloused fingertips gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. A caressing gesture, almost.

He cocked his head, the mask looking at you sideways. “You’re an odd little thing, aren’t you?” he said, voice low and twisted. Sickening, you thought. But then again, your stomach twirled with sickness. You were afraid you were about to throw up. Unless you were to lie down. Yes. Lying down felt nice. You let out a slow and pleased growl, shoulder slumping again. But the man’s hand was still upon your cheek and you allowed it. You allowed the man to touch your face.

His hand became bolder. Fingers traced your skin and then knuckles slid down your chin, until his entire palm engulfed your cheek, hot and heavy. A thumb was pushed in between your lips, at the corner of your mouth, and you instinctively suckled on it. It alleviated the pain somewhat and made the man let out a husky moan. You thought he sounded surprised, but weren’t quite certain.

“Look at you,” the man murmured, voice low and hoarse, as if his throat was as dry as yours. His thumb moved up and down between your lips while you suckled without a thought. Your lips moved automatically, as did your tongue, swirling past his salty skin.

“You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you.” A low groan followed his words, and you vaguely became aware of how his other hand had moved between his legs to fondle the growing bulge in his pants. But it was hard to open your eyes and look at him.

“Such a needy little girl,” his voice rasped. And then, all of a sudden, his thumb popped from your lips and his hand scooped behind your back. You were roughly placed into a sitting position and winced at the hurt you felt in your head. You were tired, too tired for this. With difficulty, you managed to open your eyes and sought his in the dark, behind the mask. You waited patiently while he studied you, his hand firm upon your neck to keep you sitting up.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You blinked at him, groggily, then replied obediently. “Of course you already know that,” you added, making him tilt his head curiously again.

“Why would you say that?” his low voice rasped. Like a demon’s, you thought, but your head hurt too much to register what it could mean.

“Well, you brought me to my room, didn’t you, sir?” you said, frowning when you realized that you didn’t know the man’s name. Huh, that was odd. It must have slipped your mind. You had such a headache, after all.

“Sir?” the man asked.

“Sir,” you confirmed, frowning. “I er-“ you wanted to apologize for forgetting his name. Surely he must be someone you knew, or he wouldn’t be there. But hearing his voice didn’t ring any bells. And well, you didn’t really see his face with the way your vision was swimming in front of you. Whatever shape you saw was distorted, like he was wearing a wide grin and devil’s horns on top. But surely, that must be your mind playing tricks.

“Do you know who I am?” he then asked the question you had dreaded to hear, and involuntarily, you felt tears spring to your eyes. You tried to shake your head but flinched at the pain.

“Sorry,” you sniffed, wanting to lay down, but his hand on your neck kept you up straight and prevented you from lying down on the mattress again. “I-I can’t- I can’t remember.”

“Can’t remember what, sweetie?” the man cooed, but there was an odd lull to his voice. Like he was teasing you rather than being genuine when he spoke. “Can’t remember who I am?”

“Can’t remember your name,” you sputtered. Your hands reached up for his, trying to pry his fingers from your neck but to no avail. He was much too strong. “Please, I need to lie down. It hurts,” you muttered, tears streaming from your eyes.

The man studied you in silence, then tilted his head again and let out a sigh.

“No can’t do, sweetheart. Look me in the eyes,” he said, you felt how the hand holding your neck slipped free, but his hold on you did not diminish. Instead, his arm circled around you, holding you up. His other hand came to rest upon your cheek, forcing you to look up at him. You tried to fulfill his request, eyes searching for his in the darkness.

“Do you remember how you got here?” he asked.

“How I got here?” you murmured, eyes turning wide in surprise. What did it matter, you thought annoyed. Not even realizing that you didn’t. You didn’t recall anything and you didn’t feel like trying to at this point because thinking only hurts your head. So the words that came out also flowed without a thought.

Your innocent eyes glistened in the weak light that managed to reach into the basement, giving them an unearthly shine. The tears made it seem as if silver was sparkling within them. “Aren’t you here to protect me?”

A whimper fell from your lips while the man in whose embrace you were stiffened. You heard the slow huff from behind the mask, and noticed how he gently made you lie down on the mattress before he retracted his hands from you.

“You go and get some sleep now, angel,” he whispered, voice not as low as before but still as rough. Odd, you thought. He did not sound familiar. But he must be, right? Why else would you be here?

“You go to sleep and I’ll come to bring you something nice to drink soon.”

And so you closed your eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep.

~~ Masterlist - Request Box - Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

#reupload #amnesia!reader #Part1 drabble #grabber x you #reader x grabber #the grabber x reader #albert shaw #albert shaw x reader

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jokeringcutio · 1 year

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Can I request a grabber x f!reader where reader is his new neighbor and maybe Samson gets out to her yard and they meet through that, with some flirting from reader and flustered Al :) ?

Sure you can♡ I love this one. Didn't have much time but managed to wring out a little cute drabble just to upload a little something before I call it a night. Tried to keep it light. If you want some more, have specific needs that need answering, or want some more rated material, please let me know.♡

♡ Neighbor♡

Fandom: Black Phone 2022 Pairing: The Grabber/ Albert Shaw x Reader Rating: Teen Warnings: None. Note: Someone sent in another neighbor prompt. Hell yeah he has a corruption kink, so that one is definitely gonna come soon. Just like the insomnia prompt. LOVE 'EM ♡

->♡ Neighbor♡ The dog came bounding at you entirely unexpectedly. A pitch-black flurry of movement that was up against your leg within a flash. Tongue out and panting loudly, paws against your hip and then up to your waist. You saw that it was a rather large dog with a big snout and mesmerizing grey eyes.

“Woah-woah there,” you yelped at the totally unexpected meeting. Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest, but when you saw it was a dog and that he was eager for some attention, you quickly brought your hand to his head, gently petting him.

He didn’t snap at you. Rather, he turned his head, eager for you more. You took the invitation and knelt down alongside him.

“Aren’t you a good boy?” You gently scratched behind his head, then stroked his furry back and watched how the dog closed his eyes in pleasure. He leaned further into your touch. Though he might look like someone’s guard dog, he behaved like an eager puppy. It was sort of cute?

“Samson? Samson!” you heard a rough voice coming from the neighbor’s house. A male, his voice low and husky. “Ah, Samson, there you are.”

The man in question came to stand at the edge of your garden. His eyes darkened when his gaze fell upon the dog. Arms folded in front of his chest. “Samson, you can’t just go attack our new neighbors.”

You looked up at the man, never ceasing petting the dog, Samson. The man’s eyes were as grey as his dog’s. It was the first thing you noticed about your new neighbor. “It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you said, smiling up at him.

Your neighbor just stared at you. Grey-blue eyes piercing into you while he stood unmoving. The way the silence stretched while the man observed you made you feel uncomfortable.

“Er, my name is,” here you introduced yourself awkwardly, not certain why your neighbor remained stoically quiet. Didn’t he like it when you were petting his dog? Perhaps that was it.

“I just moved in three days ago. Still have some unboxing to do,” you raised your hands, earning a displeased bark from Samson who wanted to be scratched a little longer. Then you rose and made your way over to the grumpily staring man, his dog swirling between your legs in an attempt to either trip you or focus your attention back on him. You didn’t let Samson win and managed to reach his owner without tripping.

“Nice to meet you,” you said with a smile, hoping it would force some sort of reaction out of your new neighbor.

Finally, his shell cracked and the thin line of pressed lips curled into a smile similar to your own. Ah, so he was alive after all.

“Albert Shaw,” the man said, offering to shake your hand, “but you can call me Al. Pleasure to meet you.”

You didn’t hesitate to grasp his hand in your own. His palm was hot and dry against your own, fingertips grazing slightly as he let go after. You thought you saw something glint in his eyes, like a thought or a revelation. But he did not share it with you. Instead, he kept his pleasant smile and put his hands on his hips. “Hope Samson didn’t cause you too much trouble. He usually isn’t very keen on people. More a guard dog.”

Ah, so you had been right thinking that. You smiled and looked over your shoulder to find Samson sitting by your side, tongue out of his mouth, watching you eagerly. He didn’t look scary like this at all.

Your gaze returned to your neighbor, Al. “No, not at all.”

“Good,” Al said with a smile. Was he relieved? Had he been worried? “Good.” He seemed to contemplate something, and while he did so, you studied him. He was of average height, with wispy chestnut hair that had started to fade into grey, long legs, and small beady eyes. There was a kind smile curling his lips.

His hands looked strong, with veins showing, calloused palms, and sturdy fingers with well-manicured nails. He wore silver bracelets around both of his arms and rings on both hands, which surprised you. They didn’t look like proper wedding bands, so they must be some kind of fancy jewelry. Not the kind of thing you expected a man of his age to wear. And yeah, he looked like an older gent.

He must be tipping his fifties, you thought. With lines of age defining his handsome features. He wore a vest with an embroidered pattern and flared brown pants with black shoes underneath. It suited him.

“So,” he said, suddenly appearing shy. He brought a hand up to his hair, running his fingers through the tresses as if nervous. Yet his pleasant smile never faded, though the corners of his lips seemed to tremble somewhat. Yep, nervous all right. You thought it was actually kind of cute. Perhaps he wasn’t used to talking to new people?

“Would you like to come over for a drink sometime? Tell me more about where you came from and what you’re doing on the outskirts of a town like this?”

His piercing blue eyes sought yours and you felt a hot lick of pleasure on the inside of your tummy. There was something about this man… Something that made your heart throb deep within your stomach. Something that caused an ache between your legs and deep within your soul.

Of course, there was only one answer to this. “I’d love to.”

You saw Al’s eyes light up. Samson baked happily at your feet and finally made his way over to Al again to go and run circles around the man’s legs, as if to say ‘See, she’s coming over!’ You laughed at the sight of the two, both obviously excited and not very good at hiding it.

“Great,” Al said, his sharp canines showing as he parted his lips to run the tip of his tongue past his upper one. There was a light blush on his cheeks. “I’ll er, I’ll go and prepare some, coffee if you want? Or tea? I mean, I have tea. I also have water. Or soda, if you prefer?” It was cute to hear how much he was stumbling, and you let out another short laugh before you voiced your preference, then shook your head with a smile.

“I’ll be coming in a moment, just need to bring these inside,” you picked up the flowers you’d been collecting from your own garden that had previously been owned and kept by an older lady who’d been into gardening. Your intention had been to put them in a vase on display in your own house. But holding them up and seeing their bright colors in front of Al made you change your mind.

“You know what?” you said, suddenly offering the flowers to your neighbor instead. “You keep them,” you waited for him to take your offer, saw how he hesitated and then felt how his fingers brushed against your own as he took them from you. You flashed him a comforting smile, just happy to have found such a kind neighbor, unaware of the feelings growing inside him and the hidden thoughts building inside his mind.

You would definitely be flirting with this man. Seeing him all flustered gave you such a thrill, it would be hard to resist the itch. And what harm could it do?

#drabble #Albert Shaw x Reader #Grabber x Reader #the grabber #black phone grabber #anon answered #prompt fill #not betaread #I was already half asleep while I wrote this #Good night

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jokeringcutio · 2 days

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"This is a Nice Job" - Black Phone & FNAF Crossover - Reader Insert (Implied William Afton x Reader & Grabber x Reader) [ 1/?]

AN: As I am known to do, I might just start a few drabbles in this setting because I love it.

Summary: You're working in Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place for William Afton and Mr. Henry, when you have a chat with the hired magician for the day: The Great Al.

Fandoms: Five Nights at Freddy's, The Black PhoneRating: Teen? Warnings: Older man/younger woman, Nothing Explicit (yet), Only implied William Afton x Reader & Grabber(Albert Shaw) x Reader, Flirting with murderers? Reader likes her job around kids. Not betaread. [ Support x ]

This was actually inspired by @cartoonykat's ask:

Loud music filled your ears, interrupted by the occasional shouts of little children as you darted between the tables, a tray of fizzing drinks balanced precariously in your grip. The squeals and laughter of children swirled around you, their faces smeared with icing and joy. You placed a paper cup before each eager set of hands, your smile never faltering.

"Careful now, don't spill," you murmured, patting a small head as its owner looked up at you with wide, grateful eyes.

"Thank you!" the child chirped, clutching the drink like a treasure.

"Happy to help," you replied, your voice a soft melody amid the cacophony of celebration.

Your gaze swept across the room, ensuring all was well, when the sudden hush of captivated little ones snagged your attention. There, at the center of the restaurant, stood Albert Shaw, the hired magician for today’s party. Freddy’s Pizza Place usually had a few performers they worked with, including a clown and this magician. His white-painted face was stark against the backdrop of colorful streamers, his large sunglasses hiding eyes that held secrets darker than the void.

‘The Great Al’, they called him, as he conjured silk scarves from his large top hat, making them dance like serpents charmed by his will alone. With the hat off you could see the shoulder-length dark hair that he hid underneath his hat most of the time. It was already turning grey, betraying his age which was harder to pinpoint with all the makeup covering his face.

He plucked coins from behind ears, eliciting gasps and giggles from his audience, each trick a thread in the tapestry of his dark artistry. He was good with the kids, you thought. His low voice occasionally made its way over the music that he had playing in the background. You found yourself rooted to the spot, your heart thudding a dangerous rhythm.

"Watch closely," he intoned, his low gravelly voice a siren's call that reverberated through your bones. A deck of cards appeared in his hands, flickering through his fingers as if alive. Strong hands, you noted. Thick fingers. Delicious. No – You shook the dirty thoughts away. You shouldn’t be thinking about one of the restaurant’s performers like that.

And then, with a flourish that defied logic, the cards transformed into a flurry of doves, their wings beating against the still air of the restaurant. The children erupted in applause, but you barely heard them. Your pulse quickened. The magician smiled as he revealed a small box and teased the kids with it. It was empty, but after a magical spell, the box was suddenly filled with enough candy to share around. You’d seen this performance several times now, and every time he managed to captivate you.

"Impossible," someone whispered beside you, echoing the disbelief that churned in your thoughts.

Al's performance built to a crescendo, the very air charged with anticipation. With a final bow, he finished, receiving thunderous cheers from his young fans.

"Amazing," you breathed, the word slipping out like a prayer to a deity you were only beginning to comprehend.

"Excuse me,” the voice cut through the din of merriment, stark and commanding. You flinched, recognizing the voice before you turned around. “Could you come here for a moment?"

Oh no, have I done something wrong? The worried voice echoed inside your mind. I was only looking for a moment, Mr. Afton, you thought to yourself, focusing on what you could say in your defense. I was still on the job and paying attention.

Mr. Afton, your boss and one of the restaurant’s owners, stood in the dimly lit entrance to his office, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. He was tall, his stature was impressive for a man of his age. Already greying at the top, hair thinning, large glasses enlarging his eyes, belly poking out from underneath his arms.

You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the excited group of kids that had gathered around Albert Shaw. But duty called, its voice as inescapable as gravity. With one last glance at the festive chaos of the party, you made your way toward your boss, the weight of his stare pulling you forward like a marionette on taut strings.

"Mr. Afton," you greeted him, striving for a tone of respectful professionalism despite the unease coiling in your stomach.

"Come inside my office," not a question, but a demand thinly veiled with kindness. His lips curled into a semblance of a smile, not quite reaching the coldness of his eyes behind those aviator glasses.

Mr. Afton was a tall man, taller than most that you met in your life. His hair was thinning on top and greying but still had a lively curl to it. His eyes seemed larger behind the thick glasses he wore. Strands of grey adorned his pepper-and-salt beard. He was the exact definition of a ‘dad bod’. In fact, you had heard he had a family, even though you’d never seen them. Rumors said he was divorced.

You followed him inside to see a large desk, files, and papers strewn all over it. There was an animatronic in the corner of the room, purple, with ears hanging. You thought it might be some kind of rabbit.

The thud of the door closing behind you made you jump and you turned to look behind you to see Afton had closed it. His eyes met yours, only for a short while, and you fidgeted nervously with your hands because… had you done something wrong? Had he caught you looking at the magician? That must have been it, there was nothing else it could have been. He must think you to be slacking. But you weren’t. You were still alert, still focused on any peep from a parent or child.

You needed this job and actually liked it more than you thought you would.

"I've been watching you,” your boss started, licking his lips as he walked toward his desk and then turned to lean against it. He folded his arms in front of his chest, his purple tie wrinkling with the motion against his yellow blouse. The sleeves were pulled up, showing strong forearms riddled with veins and scars.

“You have a knack for this,” he started in that low, stern voice of his. “Keeping the little ones entertained."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, shuffling awkwardly in front of his desk. There was a chair there, but should you sit down? He remained standing so you should too, right? Your mind was racing. Had you done something wrong? Had you not followed protocol? Was your uniform in order?

"I just want to make sure they're all having a good time," the words stumbled from your lips, clumsily and awkwardly, but the smile you managed afterward seemed to soften the look in Mr. Afton’s eyes.

"Indeed." He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, like a storm cloud blotting out the sun. "However, I couldn't help but notice you seemed... distracted. By the magician, was it?"

You swallowed hard, caught off guard. "He's very talented," you deflected, but Mr. Afton's gaze pierced through your defenses, reading unspoken words.

“I,” you hesitated and watched as your boss raised a brow. Swallowing down your fear and gathering your courage, you spoke up again, louder this time. “I was still keeping an eye on the kids and delivering orders though. I might have seemed distracted but I was still doing my job.”

“So it seems,” Mr. Afton murmured, pressing a finger against his lips thoughtfully. You watched the wrinkle between his eyes deepen as he frowned.

"Be careful," he murmured, his voice silk over steel. "You are a pretty girl and I have noticed the man has been looking at you. People aren't always what they seem." There was a warning there, wrapped in the velvet of concern, yet it felt like a threat all the same.

"Of course, Mr. Afton. I'll remember that." Your words were steady, but inside, confusion and curiosity churned. Why did it feel like he cared? And why did it matter so much?

"Good." He clasped your shoulder briefly – a gesture that tried to be fatherly but felt possessive. "Keep up the good work. We need employees like you."

"Thank you, sir." You nodded, excusing yourself from his heavy gaze, a strange sense of relief flooding you as you stepped back into the colorful light of the party.

But as you returned to refilling cups and plating slices of cake, you couldn't shake the feeling of Mr. Afton's eyes on you, nor could you ignore the tingling sensation where his hand had been.

What had that been all about?

You wove through the sea of balloons and streamers, your heart still thudding from Mr. Afton's cryptic parting words. The din of the party enveloped you, a cacophony of glee that almost drowned out the lingering unease. Almost.

The magician, Albert Shaw, stood center stage, lowering his sunglasses to reveal his pale eyes sweeping over the crowd like a predator surveying prey. Tiny hands clapped with fervor as he flourished his final trick – a bouquet appearing from thin air. The children squealed, their delight pure and infectious. But when your gaze met his, something flickered there – an abyss that beckoned and repelled.

"Bravo!" The word slipped from your lips, but the echo in your mind whispered caution.

"Thank you, my dear audience!" Shaw's voice wrapped around the room, velvet lined with smoke. His bow was elegant, yet each movement seemed calculated, a dance with shadows only he could see.

As you slipped behind the bar, the festive chaos became a blur. You began stacking cups, the routine task grounding you. You missed Erica and Lucy. They at least pulled you into conversations every now and again. Today, your only colleagues were Mike and El, who were just teenagers whose hormones had started to work and who were way too busy with each other than with managing the tables. And there were Justin and Jax. The two J’s. Boys who had worked here for so much longer than you that they often forgot you were there and were mostly talking to each other.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts, focusing on the music that played from the speakers softly in the background, that you hadn’t noticed the magician’s approach until his presence loomed over you. Albert Shaw leaned against the polished wood, his silhouette casting a long shadow in the neon glow.

"Could I trouble you for a glass of water?" His request was simple, mundane, but it crawled under your skin, insistent.

That voice, you thought, hearing that deliciously dark rasp in it. Was he a smoker? Whatever caused his voice to sound like that, it worked for you. It did things no employee should have to go through during working hours.

Embarrassing really.

"Of course," you replied, your voice steady despite the tremble in your fingers. "It's on the house," you joked. You poured the water, the liquid crystal clear and innocent, an odd contrast to the darkness that seemed to cling to him.

"Generous," he remarked, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. It was a smile that promised secrets, a whisper of sin.

“I do have lemonade, soda, perhaps a fizzy drink?” You offered, cocking a brow. “I know there are cans of beer in the back. I could get a real drink for you. No costs.”

The man’s expression was hard to read, with all the makeup and the dark glasses hiding his bright eyes once more. But you thought you could see his smirk grow. His fingers curled around the glass of water, muscles tensing.

“A soda, then,” he said after a contemplative hum. “I still need to drive home.”

“A soda it is then,” you confirmed, looking at him from over your shoulder as you set to work to get him his free drink. “Most men prefer the beers.”

“Like I said,” his gravelly voice came while he tapped the brim of his top hat. “Got to drive.”

You watched as he sipped from his glass of water. Little droplets of sweat were running down the sides of his cheeks, smudging the white of his makeup.

“Responsible,” you murmured, placing the soda in front of him. “Here you are, sir.”

“Thanks.” He took the glass, fingers brushing yours. Electric. Intentional. You inhaled sharply, the air suddenly thick with something unspoken.

Your pulse raced. This man was danger masquerading as charm, and yet, you were drawn like a moth to a flame.

You cleared your throat and quickly turned away.

"Nice performance," you managed, feeling heat creep into your cheeks. The innocence of the party around you clashed with the intensity of the moment, the frivolity of balloon animals and birthday cake juxtaposed against the enigma before you. You were vaguely aware of eyes upon you, but when you looked up, all of your co-workers were busy minding themselves.

“You’ve seen me perform before,” the magician said. Touché. He was right there. “Was today’s better than all my other performances? Or just not as bad?”

You turned to face him again, forcing a small smile.

“It’s always a pleasure to watch your shows,” you hesitatingly confessed. Were your cheeks red again? Could he see that you were blushing? You hoped not. You clumsily started to wipe the bar with a wet rag, wiping away stains of spilled drinks and oily fries.

"Albert Shaw," he introduced himself formally, though you already knew. His name had been murmured in hushed, awed tones all day. He was on the list in the backrooms, hired via Abracadabra Entertainment & Supplies. You knew Afton and Henry bought most of their balloons and garlands from them as well. Although the agency wasn’t as big as Ha-Ha’s, from which they hired their clowns.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Shaw." Your reply was automatic, but your mind was alight with curiosity and a dangerous thrill. You lifted the wet rag, showing you couldn’t shake hands with him, to which he took no notice. He reached for your free hand, despite it being wet from the rag as well, took it without hesitation, and shook it.

You stood frozen, uncertain of what to do or how to react, when his hand was already long gone. But Albert was already talking, seemingly unaware of how the little gesture – that little skin-on-skin contact – had rattled you.

"Please, call me Albert." His tone was insistent, a command cloaked in courtesy.

"Then you should call me…" You cut yourself short, almost giving away more than you meant to, "a fan of your work." Not that he wouldn’t know your name by now. It was on a badge on your chest.

"Perhaps one day," he said softly, "you'll show me what you're a fan of up close." The suggestion hung heavy between you, tantalizing and terrifying.

"Maybe," you breathed, the word barely more than a whisper.

As he leaned forward, his finger darted out to the badge on your chest. “Pretty name,” the words tumbled from his lips far more erotically than they should have. “Fits you.”

He then leaned back on the stool in front of the bar and picked up his glass while you spun around with cheeks all flushed, the wet rag still in your hands. You made the error of pressing the rag against your forehead, making you wince and leave for the backroom to get rid of it and dry your head.

This man was making you do weird things.

Upon your return, he was still at the bar, finishing a talk to one of the parents, and seemed to have taken his glasses off. Finally. Wearing sunglasses indoors was weird. As the dad left, Albert turned back to you and nursed his drink. Your eyes deliberately focused on the kids playing, rather than on the way the magician’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he drank.

Yup. Definitely not going to look at that.

“You’re enjoying this job, aren’t you?” Albert’s words caught you by surprise and you turned to him.

“Well, yes,” you said, because it was obvious. At least you hoped it was.

“You’re smiling radiantly. Like a bright star in the night,” Albert said, a toothy smile cracked the white of his makeup.

“Well," you replied, trying to steady your breathing. "Their laughter, it's... it's infectious." Your words fluttered out, betraying the turmoil within.

"Laughter, yes," he echoed, but something about his tone felt off. It gave you that weird shivery feeling down your spine. "The sound of pure... innocence."

He drank the soda, watching you over the rim of the glass, and you knew that this was no ordinary thirst. This was the thirst of a man accustomed to getting what he desires, by means unknown and best left unexplored.

You shifted uncomfortably, the weight of his stare heavy on your skin and you vaguely excused yourself. “I got swipe behind here too or the boss will think I’m not working.” Anything to get away from his eyes.

“Of course,” Albert replied, the grin never leaving his face.

“Didn’t he used to perform as well?” Albert’s question surprised you and you blinked up, already holding a broom in your hands.

“Huh?”

Albert hummed. “The yellow bunny suit, if I remember correctly. He told me about it once.”

You had to stifle a laugh. “What’s up with you performers and hiding your faces?” You asked. “You, the clowns, all use makeup. And the acrobat lady too. Or they wear big suits with masks.”

"Ah, but we all wear masks, don't we?" Albert tilted his head, a lock of greying hair falling across his brow.

"Sometimes without knowing it," you agreed, feeling the truth of those words more than you cared to admit. Then you sighed, the broom nearly slipping out of your hands.

“I don’t like wearing masks though,” you admitted almost dreamily. “I like to show the world who I really am. Putting on a front seems incredibly tiresome to me, don’t you agree?”

When your eyes met those of Albert, they were unreadable.

“It’s an astonishing thing, to be bashfully and unashamedly oneself.” The words came out brittle, then he reached into the pocket of his black coat.

"Here," he said, slipping a card from his sleeve with a flourish that made you jump. The black and red design swirled before your eyes, hypnotic. "In case you ever need a touch of magic."

His smile was a predator's grin, yet oddly charming.

“Got to do all my advertising myself. And since you were impressed…”

"Thank you," you stammered, feeling the card's smooth edges as you took it. The numbers danced under your fingertips, promising things unsaid.

"Call anytime," he added with a wink. It felt like a secret pact, one you weren't sure you wanted to be part of.

"Maybe I will," you murmured, pocketing the card, the heat of the exchange lingering like a spell.

As he turned to leave, Mr. Afton's shadow fell over you, icy and suffocating. You looked up to find his gaze locked onto yours, unreadable. Was it anger? Curiosity? Longing?

"Good work today," he said, each word measured and precise, but there was something else in his tone. A darkness that coiled beneath the surface.

"Thank you, Mr. Afton," you responded automatically, trying to sound unaffected. But your heart raced, betraying your composure.

"Keep our guests happy," he continued, his voice low, commanding. "That's what keeps them coming back."

"Of course," you nodded, but his eyes never left yours, pinning you like a butterfly in a case.

After a silence that felt like an eternity, Mr. Afton’s stern gaze finally left your face and he turned away from you. “Good girl,” it was but a low whisper, and you had to blink, wondering if the words had been real or if you had imagined them.

The moment you came out of your daze, Mr. Afton had returned to his office, seating himself behind his desk and leaving the door ajar so that he was in your field of vision. Your eyes searched the bar, but it seemed that ‘The Great Al’ had left.

As you watched Mr. Shaw vanish behind the swinging double doors, a shiver crawled up your spine. Laughter and chattering filled your ears, pulling you back to the here and now. And when you looked up, it was to see Mr. Afton as he lifted his eyes from the papers he was working on. Pale eyes that rested upon you for just a tick too long.

You loved your job, but whatever was going on here, you had no clue. The possibilities that filled your mind were too weird to consider. Patting the card hidden away on your body as a silent reminder to put it in your bag before you went home, you decided to ignore the weird tension that had been in the room earlier. And with a smile on your face, you went back into the sea of kids.

You loved this job and all the odd people you met through it.

AN: Guys, I did a thing (: Have you noticed the Arthur Fleck/Joker hints in it.

#william afton x reader #The grabber x reader #Albert shaw x Reader #the black phone #fnaf drabble

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jokeringcutio · 1 year

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Prompt Fill: Grabber Returns for you [ Grabber/Albert Shaw x Reader ]

Fandom: Black Phone 2022 Pairing: The Grabber/ Albert Shaw x Reader Rating: Mature Warnings: Mature Themes, Stalking, Kidnapping, allusions to smut/talk about smut, 18+ references, Modern Au. For helreyy ♡

-> The dark shape of him underneath the tree made you freeze. You blinked but he was still there. His tall frame a shadow. You slowly lowered your cup and leaned closer to the window. His watching blue eyes met yours and it was like being pierced by needles of ice.

His lips twisted in a grin. Then he turned around and disappeared into the shadows of the park opposite your house.

You turned to cry out for your parents. They came rushing to your side not much later and you told them of the man you’d seen.

The Grabber was famous for kidnapping young boys. You had clearly been a mistake. A young woman, not a child, taken by a stranger who had asked your help, thrown into the back of his van.

His address remained unknown while yours had been all over the news. Granted, your name was anonymized and your details had been blanked in all news articles since they found you. But of course, your kidnapper had been following the news, downloading and screen-capturing every article about you and saved them on his hard drive as some kind of sick and twisted trophy. He did it with all his victims, but little did you know.

You also suspected he wasn’t actually the Grabber, even though he had said that he was. Even the police thought he might be someone new. A wannabe killer. An imitator. You did not fit the profile of his victims.

But if he wasn’t the Grabber, how would you explain the children’s schoolbook containing notes that you’d found in the basement he had locked you up in?

Your mysterious villain had hidden his face at all times, never showing you who was behind the masks he wore. You’d seen him painted white and behind glasses first, then only behind grotesque masks. Even as he had stood in the shadows of you house, you had seen the devil’s horns in the shade.

The police wanted to know who he was and where to find him, but composite drawings were out of the question. They wanted to research his DNA profile, but you had never been touched that way by him and weren’t defiled with his sperm or otherwise. The only evidence you held were the gashes and bruises created by his belt.

You’d been his good girl, he had said. Hitting you had only been to show you how it would be if you decide to be bad. It’d be worse, he had threatened. He said he would never want to let you go.

You’re different from them. You’re my special little pet.

If only you would have remembered the route you used to escape or recognized the houses you had passed. But it had been in the dark of the night and you had been frightened. The Grabber had been asleep on his kitchen chair when you walked past him. By the time the dog barked you were already out the door, slipping away, hiding behind some bins at a neighboring house. Frozen with fear. You had heard his footsteps as he ran into the garden, heard the gravel underneath his soles when he made it to his van, and heard him start the engine.

He didn’t know you were still there, quiet as a mouse, watching as he drove off, pace deliberately slow, lamps like searchlights gliding along the pavement. You waited to see which direction he drove to, then sprinted out of the shrubbery and headed the other way. You ran.

You ran and ran until your legs gave out. Until dawn touched your cheeks and you recognized the scratches of thorns and twigs, cuts and bruises on your arms and legs. And a stranger came up to you and wrapped her arms around you, and you knew you were safe.

It had only been three days of your life, but it had been enough.

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming.

The Grabber had threatened he would not let you go. Though he had not touched you like that, he had fantasized. Openly and explicitly. Told you of all the things he wanted to do to you. How you would take his cock, how he’d split you open, make you bleed your virgin blood all over his shaft. How he would touch your clit, make you writhe beneath him until your walls milked him dry. His balls would explode, his seed dumped deep inside, and he would fuck your cunt raw until it hurt to take him any longer. Then he would fuck you some more until you could no longer stand.

You swore you saw him at times, standing on the other side of the street, observing. You asked your parents to check the camera they’d placed in front of the house. Someone moved in the shadows all right, but he was always out of sight. You told the police and they let their surveillance car drive through your street a few times a day. The sightings grew less frequent, but they did not stop.

Those threats that he had made surfaced when you thought you saw him again, this time on your way to your new apartment. Your parents helped you with that, knowing you wanted a change, that you wanted to escape to a place far away.

You grabbed your father’s arm and made him turn to look and see. But the Grabber had cleverly gone. You comforted yourself by remembering he was only at your parent’s house. He wouldn’t know where you were going to live. You’d be far away, in a busy city. No way he could get his hands on you unnoticed.

Of course, you might have jinxed yourself with your wishful thinking. As you opened the door to your new apartment, after a night out with friends, many weeks later, you suddenly felt the presence of someone behind you, the warmth of a body burned into you from behind. When you turned around, you saw you were in the shade of a tall man. Blue eyes glinted in the dark, hidden behind the upper half of a mask. His teeth glinted in the light of the streetlamp, canines like sharp fangs showing.

“Hello, little butterfly. Ready to come home to Daddy?”

Your eyes grew wide and your hands flew up to cover your nose. But the canister was already against your nostrils, a gas heavy within your nose. Your eyes drooped while you fell limp in his arms. And the last thing you heard “I’m gonna make good on my promise, little girl,” a low, husky rasp.

“I’m gonna fuck you long and hard.”

#Albert Shaw #The Grabber #Grabber x you #you x grabber #slasher x reader #the grabber x reader #prompt fill #drabble #short one #this is what I mean #thank you for requesting

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jokeringcutio · 1 year

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"Drabble: The Magician" - Reader x ArthurFleck (established/Joker) & Unrequited Reader x TheGrabber

Crossover time: Fandoms: Joker 2019 + Black Phone 2022

Rating: PG13? Warnings: None really, possessive Arthur, Hints at Arthur already being Joker. Jealousy. For : @lussiane333, Hopefully the first of many crossover drabbles. ~~ Masterlist - Request Box - Support me on Ko-Fi ~~ "Drabble: The Magician" It wasn’t crowded, but most of the audience consisted of children. Most, not all. Beside you, Arthur sat, hand twitching nervously. The magician in front of the audience magicked balloons from out of his hat and tore up a newspaper to make it whole again. You were impressed, even if you’d seen most of his tricks before. But this man was good.

You let your eyes drift to Arthur whose jaw was clenched. He wasn’t as pleased. The white-painted face might have something to do with it, a poor imitation of his own makeup mask. Not quite a clown. But there was more to it, you thought. Perhaps he missed performing? After all, he used to be the one to make the children smile.

Your eyes drifted back to the magician. His fingers were nimble, his draws quick. You felt his eyes upon you a few times, and encouragingly smiled at him whenever he looked your way. Blue-grey eyes, bright and light unlike any you’d ever seen. They bore into you and left their mark. You glanced at your side again, but Arthur’s vivid green eyes were upon the man in front of you, observing his every move.

The man asked a child from the front row to assist him with his next trick. She loved it, and so did the crowd. He was quite good with kids, you thought, charming even. His voice was light and high, not his natural, you thought. The man asked a boy up next, and you loved how he engaged the entire audience, making them go ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ and giving a round of applause that made the children he chose as his assistants feel special and proud.

If this had been all, you’d have thought the man to be a pleasant and well-skilled performer. But then something happened that changed it all.

“For my next trick I will need a volunteer,” his eyes roamed the small crowd, then came to rest on you. “How about you, little lady,” he said in his jolly voice. But something about his gaze wasn’t as playful. It was predator-like. “Would you like to help me out?”

You hesitated, feeling how Arthur by your side tensed when the magician chose you. But everyone was looking at you with such great expectations. Refusing would not do, would it? It would only draw more attention to the two of you and you could not risk that. You didn’t want people to notice Arthur and risk it all.

You took a moment too long to decide, and the magician made it even harder for you. “Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for my lovely assistant,” here he paused to look at you again and gestured for you to come hither.

Frozen and uncertain of what to do, you felt Arthur’s elbow in your back, encouraging you to step forth. Hesitatingly, you stood up and approached the magician.

His grin grew when you stepped closer, then he took off his hat and bowed. You noticed how his long hair was greying at the roots. It resembled Arthur’s hair, though less curly and more wispy. Then the hat was on again and the man straightened his spine. “What is your name, love?”

You whispered your name, which he repeated loud enough for everyone in the back to hear. Another arm stretched out, palm upward, and another plea for applause, after which the magician performed his trick with a coloring book – of all things. He guided your hand with the paintbrush in it, saying a magic word as he tried to fill the black-and-white page with color. It didn’t work the first time. But when his hot hand encircled yours, and his warm palm pressed tight against your skin and guided your hand and the brush in it, the book was suddenly filled with colors.

When you glanced at Arthur you saw the shadow over his features. The magician’s hand was still possessively over your own. His body pressed close to yours. Like Arthur’s, you thought. He’s like him.

He bowed deep after he thanked you, a predatory grin on his lips. You recognized it. Of course, you did. And so had Arthur by the look on his face. It was like a thunderstorm had come over him. He sat with his arms folded in front of his chest when you returned to your seat next to him, lips curled downwards like a theatre mask. He was angry. Surely he understood that you had no other choice? That refusing the magician might have risked exposing Arthur, even if he was in his normal clothes.

You didn’t fail to notice how the magician’s eyes kept sliding back to you all through his performance. He was like Arthur, all right. The thought alone sent shivers down your spine. Because you knew how Arthur was. Who he was. And what he had done.

After the performance, the two of you walked home, arms linked. Arthur was still bristling. “I did not like the entertainer,” he said, voice nearly a whine but not quite. He was doing his best to sound unbothered, when clearly, he was angered beyond belief.

“The magician?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“That one.” It was as if a shadow fell over Arthur’s features. His lips pressed into a thin line in displeasure. You had hoped to see a show with him would have lightened his mood. Instead, it had done the opposite.

“You don’t like anyone,” you said, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. He took long strides as if he was eager to get away. You had to try and keep up with him, which you only managed because of your linked arms.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, “but I especially don’t like that man.”

The two of you rounded a corner and you halted, forcing Arthur to come to a stop as well. He looked down at you, clearly confused. His green eyes sought yours.

“You know what?” you said, looking up at him. A small smile slipped on your lips when you whispered. “Neither did I.”

You could see Arthur’s mind racing. Usually, you were his voice of reason, the one who berated him and told him that he was overreacting. To hear you agree with him on something like this was quite new. But you had felt it. When your eyes had locked with those blue-grey ones of the magician, you knew there was something wrong with him. “There’s something about him,” you said. “Something,” you hesitated, then finished with a whisper. “Dark.”

“Dark?” Arthur turned to face you, not noticing how the topic of your conversation was now in front of you. A big black van with Abracadabra on the side was parked next to the sidewalk. You noticed how the green and blue letters shimmered in the sunlight. Behind it stood a very familiar man, a brown paper bag in his arms. You recognized attributes from his magic act. The top hat was on his head and his face was still painted white. But his piercing eyes that had betrayed the darkness inside of him were now hidden behind glasses.

“Good afternoon to you,” he piped, sounding way too jolly. His stage voice again, you thought.

“If it isn’t my lovely assistant.” Your name rolled off his lips like dripping honey, syrupy and sweet. You felt Arthur tense next to you, his whole pose rigid. The magician seemed to nearly drop his bag. The flowers that lay on top fell out of it.

“Oh my, would you look at that!” the man exclaimed. “I am so clumsy! Pardon me.”

But you were in front of him on your knees already, picking up the fallen items and handing the flowers to the magician with a shy smile. “Here you go,” you said, not realizing what you were doing until it was too late.

The magician put his bag in the back of the van and turned to take the flowers from your hands. A smile twisted his lips when his fingers brushed past yours. “Why, thank you, dear. Flowers, for me already? We only just met…”

You froze and practically felt Arthur seething a few paces behind you. But the magician was unperturbed. He leaned forward, stepping closer to you until you felt the heat radiate off his body. A scent drifted to you, cologne and a whiff of manly testosterone.

Then he was leaning back again and the distance between the two of you increased again. He turned to place the flowers in the back of his van. “I was just kidding, sweetheart,” you heard him say. Then he turned to face you again. You wished you could see his eyes behind his glasses, to know the look that was in his gaze now. Was he jesting as he claimed? Or was there more to it like you suspected?

“You seem frightened,” he stated, voice finally losing its high and pleasant lilt. In its stead, a raspy low voice came out. Was this his true voice, you wondered? Or another character in him?

“I am sorry,” he said, looking aside, “I did not mean to scare you.” His smile had faded and you thought he might be honest now. Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest. He was lucky, you thought. So very lucky that Arthur hadn’t brought a gun with him.

He hadn’t, right? Oh shit, had he brought the tiny one that he sometimes hid in his shoes?

You turned around to come face to face with Arthur. He had come closer and now stood behind you. The magician’s gaze must be resting on him too now, because Arthur was an imposing sight to see, standing tall and carrying a grimace of displeasure that could strike fear in anyone.

“I am sorry,” the magician said. You heard how his smile must have turned wry. “I was just telling your daughter how lovely an assistant she was.”

The reaction was instant. You felt how Arthur’s body tensed, then how his arm encircled your waist and he pulled you close. His grasp possessive, strong. This would leave no doubt.

You wondered if the magician’s eyes grew wider behind the glasses, because you swore you saw them raise. Then a frown slipped onto his face. “I see,” he murmured.

“I am sorry, Mister…” Arthur waited for the magician to answer, which he did.

The magician nodded curtly at Arthur while he introduced himself. “Albert,” he said, voice raspy and low still. “Albert Shaw.”

“Well, Mister Shaw, it seems that you are treading on dangerous ground.” A smile grew on Arthur’s face, one much like a shark’s. “You should be more careful with your assumptions in the future. You’ve been,” here Arthur paused to wet his lips, “awfully impolite.”

Those words invoked mental images inside your mind of Arthur at his worst, gun drawn and pointed at a helpless victim’s head, already on the floor on their back. You’d seen it before. Awfully impolite. Society. Triggers that made Arthur’s anger surface. Then Arthur broke you out of your thoughts when he turned to you and whispered near your ear, but loud enough so Albert, the magician, could hear, “It is time to go.” And then more pressing, “now.”

You nodded and placed your hand on Arthur’s forearm, a signal that you would follow him. Arthur’s gaze was a dangerous one, fully aimed at Albert as he took you away, back to the pavement. His arm was firm around you, his breathing heavy. A dangerous glint was in Arthur’s eyes and you knew, you just knew, what was going on inside that brilliantly obscure mind of his.

A plot for revenge. A plan for retribution.

Albert had touched something that was his. Something that Arthur had laid claim on. You.

And now that he had the magician’s name, there was no doubt in your mind that you would see that name appear in one of the newspapers pretty soon. Albert Shaw. Murdered. Visited by none other than the Joker.

Unless your feelings about the magician were right. Unless he was as dangerous as the Joker who had claimed you as his own. ~~ Masterlist - Request Box - Support me on Ko-Fi ~~ ~ Fin ~ AN: I am open to requests. This story was not beta-read, might do that later.

#drabble #joker 2019 drabble #arthur fleck x reader #female reader #reader insert #reader x villain #joker x reader #grabber x reader #the grabber x reader #albert shaw x reader #black phone and Joker crossover #older men with longer hair #the grabber x you #the joker x you #arthur fleck x you #arthur joker x reader

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jokeringcutio · 6 months

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Hello <3 I've been following you for many years and I'm a big fan <33 I'm from Spain, sorry if my English is a little wrong :( On Halloween eve I come to ask you (if it's still open 😨) for a one shot of the grabber x reader, where reader goes trick or treating around the houses :)Thank you very much, I understand if you accept it or you don't have time, I wish you a very nice day <3

Hello, dear anon from Spain. (: Thank you for the request! Here's a little drabble for you, enjoy! ♡

Fandom: The Black Phone 2022 Pairing: Albert Shaw (The Grabber) x Reader (Au Pair from abroad) Rating: Teen Warnings: Au Pair Reader is from Abroad, Mention of Age Gap, Dark Undertones. Overall quite sweet.

Summary: You are an Au Pair stopping at the Grabber’s House. Romantic (with perhaps the tiniest hint of darkness underneath).

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

Trick or Treat – Sweet Grabber x Reader version, Drabble

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

The chilly autumn air nipped at your cheeks as you walked down the dimly lit street, the excited laughter of Johnny and Louisa ringing in your ears. You were their au pair, a stranger in this foreign land, but tonight, you felt like a part of something magical. Halloween.

"Trick or treat!" the children chorused as you approached a house adorned with cobwebs and flickering jack-o-lanterns. Standing on the porch was a man wearing a pale devil's mask, his eerie grin somehow welcoming.

"Ah, excellent costumes!" Albert Shaw admired, his voice low and rich like dark chocolate. "A heroic knight and a beautiful fairy princess – truly splendid!"

"Thank you!" Louisa beamed, her small wings fluttering with excitement.

"Here you go," he said, dropping handfuls of candy into their waiting bags. The sugary treats clinked together, their sweet promise almost tangible.

"Thank you, mister!" Johnny grinned, his eyes shining with delight beneath his toy helmet.

You stood back, watching the exchange with a mixture of curiosity and wonder. Halloween was a night of secrets and mystery, and the man in the devil's mask seemed to embody that spirit. There was an undeniable allure about him, despite the sinister disguise he wore.

His eyes, hidden behind the mask, shifted to you as he held out a handful of candy. "And for our lovely au pair..." His voice was like velvet, wrapping around you and pulling you in. You felt your cheeks flush, intrigued by the mystery this man exuded.

"Thank you," you murmured, accepting the candy and feeling a shiver run down your spine at his gaze – intense and penetrating despite the disguise. The shadows cast by the jack-o-lanterns danced on his face, casting him in an otherworldly light that only heightened the allure.

"Allow me," he said, reaching up to remove the devil's mask. As it came away, you found yourself staring into a pair of piercing blue eyes set in a rugged, handsome face. A hint of silver threaded through his chestnut-brown hair, which he casually raked back with one hand. He appeared older, perhaps too old for you, but somehow, that only added to his charm.

"Albert Shaw," he introduced himself, extending a hand to you. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," you replied softly, placing your hand in his. The warmth of his grip sent another shiver down your spine, making you wonder what it would be like to have those hands elsewhere on your body.

“How did you know I am their au pair and not their mother?” you asked, curiously. As you spoke, the air around you seemed charged, electric. The night took on a dangerous edge, something haunting lurking just beneath the surface. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him, the darkness and the unknown beckoning you closer.

“You’re too young to be their mother,” Albert pointed out to you. “Plus, you are the most exotic Flamenco dancer I have seen tonight. The dress fits you like a glove.”

Something in his eyes glittered, and you felt your cheeks flush at the compliment he gave you. “They picked it out for me,” you said, gesturing at Johnny and Louisa. What else could you say? You felt a little embarrassed, really. Especially with the way Albert’s eyes seemed to rove over your frame as if he was looking at more than just the costume. Then his eyes suddenly darted up again and the faintest hint of a smile appeared in the corner of his lips.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Albert remarked, his voice low and seductive.

"Y-yes," you stammered, trying to maintain your composure as your mind raced with thoughts of desire and intrigue. "It's... enchanting."

"Indeed," he agreed, his eyes never leaving yours. "Halloween has a way of bringing out the hidden desires within all of us. The masks we wear, the secrets we keep… It's a night when anything seems possible."

"Even the forbidden?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. But despite the loud noises of the kids roaming the streets, he seemed to have heard you.

"Especially the forbidden," he confirmed, his gaze darkening with lust. "There's something thrilling about exploring the unknown, don't you think?"

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from him. The air between you crackled with intensity, and for a moment, you were lost in the spell he had woven around you. Halloween had become more than just a night of costumes and candy. It was a gateway into a world of dark romance and dangerous temptations, embodied by the enigmatic man before you.

And oh! How you longed to explore whatever darkness that man had to offer you.

A loud bark broke you out of your trance. A dog came bounding up behind the man and you heard the kids gasp. Johnny, especially, loved dogs.

“Ah, this is Samson,” Albert said as he sunk to his knees to pet the rather large dog that had appeared beside him. You felt Lousia hide behind your legs. She wasn’t as fond of dogs as her brother was. But Albert was running his hands over Samson’s neck, scratching the dog who seemed to enjoy the attention.

“Don’t worry,” Albert soothingly said, his attention fully on Louisa now. “He won’t bite.”

As if that was a cue, Johnny took a step forward and raised his hand, wanting to pet the dog. You tusked him, but Albert interfered.

“It’s fine,” he said, blue eyes on you. “Samson is a sweetheart,” and your heart nearly skipped a beat when you saw his warm gaze upon you and heard the low timbre of his voice. Sweetheart. Had he said it like that on purpose? But before you could think too much about it, his eyes were back on Johnny and he helped the boy to the dog. “You may pet him,” he said. “He likes it.”

Albert helped Johnny run his hand past Samson and you watched how the dog seemed to relax. Behind you Lousia tucked at your skirt, still scared.

"Let's go get more candy!" she said, pulling you along with her. You had to try and keep your balance and avoid tripping over your skirt, but Louisa was quite determined. And upon hearing and seeing his sister drag you away, Johnny seemed to forget Samson and came rushing towards you. He grabbed your sleeve and started to pull along.

“More candy, yay!” he shouted. And you looked over your shoulder at Albert with a look of defeat. How you longed to have talked to him a little longer.

As if he thought the same, he stood up and straightened his spine, reaching up as far as he could to call after you. "Wait," his voice soft yet commanding. "Come back after the children are in bed."

Come back? Your eyes widened at the dishonorable suggestion. You and the much older man, alone, in a house, late in the evening? Louisa and Johnny’s mom and dad would kill you if they found out. But perhaps… perhaps you could trick them. Tell them you went for a drink with Sophia, the other au pair you had recently met, and got along with fine. They would buy that excuse.

"All right," you agreed, feeling a shiver of anticipation race down your spine. You couldn't shake the sense that something extraordinary was waiting for you behind those doors.

Later that evening, still wearing your costume and tired with sore feet, you approached Albert's house once more. Your heart pounded in your chest as you rang the doorbell, an inexplicable blend of fear and desire coursing through you.

Albert opened the door without his mask, his blue eyes piercing through the darkness. "You came back," he said, his tone layered with intrigue and hunger.

"Of course," you replied, trying to sound braver than you felt. "I couldn't resist."

"I am glad you came," he said, a smile curling his lips in a pleasant, warm way that sent tingles down your tummy. He was older, perhaps too old for you, but that only seemed to make him more alluring. The lines on his face spoke of experience and wisdom, and you found yourself yearning to feel the touch of his hands.

“I seem to have lots of leftover candy this year,” he lamented. But there was a certain tune to his voice that betrayed it wasn’t as much a complaint as it was meant as a conversational starter. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest. A teasing glint in his eyes betrayed how happy he was that you had returned for him. Seeing that brought another gust of warmth to your core.

"Your costume is quite… alluring," he remarked, his eyes roaming over your body with undisguised appreciation.

"Thank you," you replied, heat rising to your cheeks. "Yours was very mysterious."

"Ah, yes," he said, smirking. "The devil himself."

"Maybe you're not so different from him," you teased, feeling bolder by the moment.

"Perhaps not," he agreed, his eyes darkening with desire. "But I can assure you, I'm far more interesting."

The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself wanting nothing more than to be enveloped in his embrace. To feel the strength of his arms around you, the heat of his body pressed against yours.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" he asked, gesturing at the space behind him, effectively inviting you into his house.

Is this smart? a tiny voice inside of your mind screamed at you. But you were too excited and too intrigued to listen to that voice of reason. You knew you wanted to head inside, and not just because of the cold that started to envelop you while you stood on his porch.

“You can help me get rid of some of that leftover candy,” he suggestively added, his voice low and seductive. His blue eyes were fixed upon you, his intentions clear.

"Yes, I'd love some," you replied, knowing full well the candy was just an excuse to stay near him. You wanted to know more about this man, felt like he was a magnet pulling you in.

Albert smiled broader upon your answer and unfolded his arms. "Come with me," he said.

As he reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, a shiver of anticipation raced down your spine. Finally, you were experiencing the touch you had longed for all evening. The sensation was electrifying, sending waves of heat coursing through your veins.

As you followed him, the door closed behind you, shutting out the world and leaving you alone in this mysterious man's domain.

~ Fin ~

If you enjoyed:

~~ Masterlist - Request Box ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ In the days running up to Halloween, I will be posting Halloween-themed Reader-inserts. Some will be smutty, some will be dark, others will be sugary sweet. Follow me to read more. Love you all

#albert shaw x reader #the grabber x you #grabber x reader #halloween black phone #sweet halloween drabble #reader insert #au pair reader #nanny reader #trick or treat #follow me for more

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jokeringcutio · 1 year

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WHAT's this? Why are there no more new Grabber requests in my inbox? It feels so empty! Now I have to come up with stuff all by myself ...

#Which means #feel free to send in drabble requests #Albert Shaw #My Multichapter Grabber x Reader fic is still going strong #The Grabber #Grabber fanfiction #grabber black phone #ethan hawke #Other Hawke characetrs are allowed too #I want to write something short and this man makes me want to write

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jokeringcutio · 5 months

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Stepdad!William Afton x Reader "Barbecue" - Mature/Drabble [ 1 ]

FNAF | William Afton (stepdad!) x (f) Reader | MATURE Warnings: Mention of arousal, Jealousy. AN: Wrote a quick drabble. For my Grabber fans, he is my favorite neighbor to crossover with (: Enjoy.

The sun beat down on your exposed skin as you stood in the backyard, the scent of sizzling meat filling the air. You were dressed to impress, hot pants hugging your curves and a tight top that left little to the imagination. Your neighbor Mr. Shaw manned the barbecue, his chestnut hair cascading down to his shoulders, the roots already touched by grey revealing his age.

"Great day for a barbecue," he smiled at you, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

"Absolutely," you agreed. You came to stand next to him, hungrily trying to have a peek to see if anything your taste was being put on there.

The conversation was casual and rather dull at first, with Mr. Shaw talking and you smiling kindly while listening and asking polite questions.

You hadn’t been much in the mood for this barbecue, but you didn’t want to disappoint your parents. Your stepfather was an intimidating man, always criticizing you. You tried your best not to irk him, to be polite and kind when around him. All you wanted was to have him praise you, even if it would only be once, and call you a good girl.

You just wanted his approval.

You felt the weight of your stepfather's gaze upon you from across the garden. William Afton, the man your mother had remarried not too long ago, was watching you intently. It seemed as if he was watching you most of the time these days, his scrutinizing eyes following your movements across the lawn.

You were doing your best to be the perfect stepdaughter, to get him to like you. You dressed up nicely and were socializing with his friends. What was it that you were doing wrong that he watched you like a hawk?

Mr. Shaw started telling you about his side job as a magician, catching your interest and distracting you from your stepdad’s watchful gaze. You couldn't help but let your enthusiasm show. His tales of dazzling tricks and spellbound audiences drew you in, and you found yourself leaning closer, eager to learn more.

"Really? And then what happened?" you asked, caught up in the excitement of it all.

But your stepdad had other ideas. In an instant, William was beside you, gripping your arm with a force that made you wince.

"Excuse us, Albert," he said through gritted teeth before dragging you into the house.

You stumbled along, trying to keep up with his angry strides. You didn’t miss how he led you into a room far enough from the party to ensure privacy before slamming the door shut behind you. Confused, you looked up at him.

There was a harshness in his eyes that for a moment seemed to flicker. As if your innocent eyes angered him even more.

"What do you think you're doing?" he spat, his voice harsh and cold.

"Talking to Mr. Shaw?" you answered hesitantly, unsure of where this hostility was coming from.

"Keep your distance from him," William growled, his fingers digging into your arm. "He's old enough to be your father."

Your stepdad’s words puzzled you. Keep your distance? Less than an hour ago he had wanted you to step up to them, had been lecturing you about it.

"But you're friends with him!" you protested, trying to make sense of your stepdad's sudden change in demeanor.

"That's different," he snapped. "Stay away from him, understand?"

"Fine," you muttered, your heart racing with confusion and fear. "I didn't mean to upset you," you murmured, searching his face for answers.

His touch lingered on your arm, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You slowly became aware that he was deliberately finding excuses to touch you. When you passed each other in the hallway, his arm would accidentally brush past yours. When you needed to get to college in the morning, his hands would linger on the lunch he had prepared for you.

You knew exactly how his fingers felt.

The texture of his skin, the roughness of his palms, the warmth they exuded. You knew it, because he kept brushing his hands past your bare skin – whenever your shirt had no sleeves or whenever it slid down your arm to reveal your shoulder.

"Older men like him, they only think of one thing," William said, feigning concern. "Pretty young girl like you…” you saw him press his lips into a thin line, thinking before he spoke again. “I just want to protect you. Even though I'm not your real dad."

His words made him sound like the concerned father figure, but something in his eyes betrayed him. You saw through his act, recognizing the jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

"Okay, Dad," you whispered, meekly apologizing. "I promise to behave better."

The way you called him 'Dad' seemed to ignite something within him. His grip tightened, and you could swear you saw a hint of arousal in his eyes. With that realization, you made a silent vow to test your theory. Could it be that your stepfather had the hots for you?

"Thank you," he said, releasing you. "Now, go back outside and enjoy the party. But remember, no boys."

You locked eyes with him, searching for an answer to the many questions that swirled inside your head. “No boys,” you promised, thinking that Mr. Shaw was, after all, a man.

Not a boy.

You returned to the garden, feeling his gaze on your back as you went. The sun still shone brightly, casting long shadows on the grass. Laughter from the guests mingled with the sizzle of the barbecue. It all felt so normal, yet you couldn't shake off the tension that now wrapped around you like a second skin.

After weighing your options, you slowly made your way back to the food again. Most of the guests here were male. Men around your stepdad’s age. They were his friends mostly, after all. The women had gathered in a corner, your mom included, talking about topics that didn’t interest you at all.

"Are you okay?" Mr. Shaw asked, noticing your return. His kind eyes searched yours, genuine concern etched on his face.

"Of course," you smiled, pushing the unease aside. "Let's talk more about your magic tricks."

You leaned in closer, engrossed by his stories once more. But this time, you kept one eye on your stepfather, watching as he glowered from the sidelines. There was a small gesture of his hand as he stroked the obvious tent in his pants, rearranging himself discreetly, blue eyes still burning upon you.

You leaned a little closer to Mr. Shaw, eager to see your stepdad’s reaction. His eyes darkened, lips clipped. And then he took a step toward you.

You felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at his reaction – now you knew for sure.

"Wow, that's amazing," you said to Mr. Shaw, your voice louder and more enthusiastic than before. "You must be an incredible magician."

"Thank you," he replied, grinning. "I enjoy sharing my passion with others."

“Perhaps you can share your passion with me one day,” you said, aware that your stepfather must have heard every single word.

Mr. Shaw’s movements stilled, his strong hands holding the tongs in mid-air, veins clearly showing. His eyes seemed to darken. He was an attractive man, you noticed. Perhaps you could -

“I’d love to,” his deep and gravelly voice came.

But your eyes were no longer on Mr. Shaw. You couldn't help but notice William's clenched fists and darkened expression as he hurried toward you. This dangerous game was only just beginning, and you were fully aware of the risks. But somehow, that made it all the more enticing.

The moment was fleeting – the sudden grip of William's hand on your arm as he pulled you away from Mr. Shaw once more.

"Sorry to interrupt," he growled, a forced smile plastered on his face. "But I need to talk to my daughter… again."

"Of course," Mr. Shaw said, eyes narrowing slightly in concern.

William led you into the house again, his fingers digging into your flesh. You were certain bruises would form later. The thought, however, made you feel fuzzy on the inside. As if he was somehow marking you as his, and wasn’t that a thrilling thought?

Once inside, he pushed you against the wall, the action making you gasp. You squeezed your legs together involuntarily, your core hot and slick by nasty thoughts. Your stepfather looked powerful like this, dominating. His chest heaved up and down, gritted teeth showing. His blue eyes blazing with anger.

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from him?" he hissed, his breath hot on your face. "You're being a bad girl, deliberately, aren't you?"

"Wh-what do you mean?" you stammered, trying to maintain your composure. His proximity made it difficult to think straight.

"Your outfit," he spat, his gaze scanning over your tight top and hot pants. "It's too revealing. It's like you're inviting him to look at you."

"Thank you, Daddy," you whispered, your voice trembling as you started to talk. But then you caught sight of how his eyes slightly widened at your words, pupils blown.

You continued, "for being concerned about me."

As you slid past him, your fingers brushed against his arm, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

Returning to the garden, you decided to join your mom, settling down beside her on a lawn chair. The sun warmed your skin, but you couldn't ignore the heat radiating from William's stare. He watched you intently, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if he could barely contain himself.

But you obliged to his rules, avoiding eye contact with any of your stepdad’s male friends and sitting with the females of the party instead.

The little silly cat-and-mouse game the two of you had played was pushed to the back of your mind as you listened to the conversations around you. Dull as they were, they took away the ache you had started to feel dance between your legs.

Until your stepdad appeared in your vision, placing a glass of freshly made juice before you.

"Here," he said abruptly. "I thought you might be thirsty."

"Thank you," you murmured, meeting his eyes as you brought the straw to your lips. Slowly, deliberately, you sipped the cold liquid, watching the way his pupils dilated with each movement.

"Is everything all right?" your mom asked, oblivious to the tension between you and William.

"Everything's fine," you replied, eyes still locked with his. The air crackled around you, electric with unspoken desire. It was a dangerous dance, a game of control – and you were both playing with fire. ~ AN: For more, follow me (: ~~ Masterlist - Request Box - Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

#reader x william afton #william afton #william afton x reader #Stepdad!William Afton #FNAF AU #Reader insert #older man x younger woman #stepdad AU #matthew lillard!william afton x reader

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