#albert shaw imagine

[francis-writes]

Hello can you do a smut with some steamy anal the reader is female it either be The Grabber or Arthur Harrow. And take your time. No worries. I understand how it is when I have trouble writing.

Arthur Harrow

You moaned and grabbed the sheets, as Arthur continued playing with your clitoris. Your body was shaking under work of his skilled tongue. You reached to him and ruffled his hair. He looked up at you, smiling.

"Do you enjoy it, my goddess?"

"Of course. I thought... would you like to do anal today?"

He leaned over and started kissing up your body, across the belly and between your breast. His hair tickled your skin.

"If you want this" he replied "I am honored. Who will be receiving?"

"You will be on top today"

You got up and started looking through things in your closet. When you found everything, you came back to the bed with lube and set of butt plugs. You laid on your back and rested your legs on Arthur's shoulders. He took some lube and started massaging your butthole. He ran his finger up and down, and gently pressed it for a few moments before he pushed it inside. His moves were still slow, you tilted your head back enjoying his delicate caress. Arthur was a careful, devoted lover and each part of the sexual act was equally important to him. He always made sure you were ready and aroused - you could say that he sometimes waited too long with action but it only made the pleasure stronger after he made you twist your body and beg him to posses you and to give you awaited relief.

He removed his finger and reached for the smallest butt plug but you stopped him.

"No, no, I won't even feel it. Use larger one"

"Aren't you too much in a hurry?" He smiled and raised an eyebrow but obediently took biggest toy. He put extra portion of lube on your butthole and pressed butt plug to your entrance.

"I will push now" he warned "Tell me if you want to stop"

You nodded. As butt plug went deeper in your body, you breathed out. Finally the widest part get inside and you sighed at this sensation, even though you knew it was just getting started. Arthur pulled it out a bit and pushed back. You grabbed sheets again and tried to hold back sounds as he was repeating his action.

"Enough" you finally said "I want you inside"

"As you wish" he pulled out the plug and put it aside. You turned over and rested on your elbows and knees, with your ass high in the air. Arthur leaned over  and kissed the place where your spine was ending. Then he stroked your asscheeks.

"You're beautiful like that, you know? That's the prettiest ass I have ever seen"

You chuckled.

"Thank you. I can't lie, yours is breathtaking as well"

He pressed tip of his member to your tight butthole. You felt relaxed, as always in his presence, fully aware that Arthur puts safety and pleasure of his lover on a first place.

He started pushing. You gripped your teeth. It wasn't painful but feeling of your asshole getting wider was... weird. Still, there was some satisfaction when the whole dick fit in, filling you. Arthur started fucking you. He didn't say anything, focusing completely on the action but you could hear quiet gasps and moans coming from him. You kept your mouth open, breathing deeply as he was thrusting into you. The pleasure was so intense, you felt as if your body couldn't take it all.

You reached to your clit and started playing with yourself. Attacked from both sides, you started moaning loudly and these sounds only gave Arthur more energy to keep going. His moves got faster and your moans got louder. You arched your back, overhelmed with pleasure. You felt as if you lost control over your body.

Finally, your muscles twitched and you came. Arthur pulled out and you fell on the bed, powerless. You turned on your back; he laid beside you, kissed you and put his arm around you.

"Are you pleased?" He asked quietly. You smiled to him and nodded.

The Grabber

You were laying on the dirty mattress with legs spread wide. Your kidnapper pressed you to the ground with his weight, you were whimpering quietly as he bit your body. There were no reason for you to hold back moans and other noises though - basement was soundproof and nobody upstairs would hear you even if you screamed for your life.

But you didn't mind. Of course, you would rather be free and able to go wherever you want but since you slid your hand into the Grabber's pants for the first time, his visits became the best part of your monotonous prison life.

He interrupted marking your chest and he knelt.

"Get on your hands and knees"

You followed his order - you had time to learn how disobeying him ended - and turned your head to look at him.

"Doggy?"

"No, this time I will try your pretty ass" he patted your butt and you felt uneasy. There had to be way to discourage him. He's gonna destroy you!

"But... we don't have lube. It won't fit in!" Even if he bought lube, Al was too brutal and uninterested in other's sensations to try anal with him. And you were sure he wouldn't buy a lube in case it would catch someone's attention.

"I brought some butter. It will be enough"

"What? It doesn't work in real life-" you thought he should watch less movies and you tried to get up but the Grabber pushed you. When you landed flat on your belly, he pressed you to the floor with one hand and with the other he reached to a small pack he brought with himself.

"Trust me little dove, I don't wanna hurt you. As long as you behave" he started massaging your butthole and soon he pushed a finger inside. You gasped.

"We need to get you ready, I am not a monster" he cooed you as he inserted a second finger and started fucking you with them. You lowered your head, breathing heavily. The sensation wasn't inpleasant... it was just overhelming since you didn't play with your butt before.

Finally Al pulled out his fingers, and when you turned back your head, you saw him putting grease on his dick. He moved closer and placed himself near your entrance. You almost stopped breathing when he started pushing his cock inside. It was painful at first and you groaned. The Grabber stopped and stroked your ass.

"I will do it slower, try to relax"

He pulled out a bit and pushed again, very slowly this time. You focused on your breath and tried to loosen your muscles. When he was finally completely inside you, he started thrusting in fast pace and you couldn't hold back moan. This wasn't like usual penetration, you felt as if the sensation possesed your whole body. It wasn't painful now but you felt much more vulnerable in this state and somehow it made you more turned on. You felt wetness between your  legs as he rested his hand on your head, pushing you into mattress.

"You like it, don't you? So why did you protest?"

"I- was stuupid" you half said, half moaned, trying to catch some air as the Grabber was possesing your body. Some part of you felt that you can't take these sensations anymore, the rest of you didn't want him to stop.

"Dirty bitch, you will do anything I want" his hips were hitting your ass consistently, as he was sliding into you fully, filling you with his thick cock "Not because you have to... but because you enjoy being my little toy"

You couldn't even form a word, so you only moaned in response. Was he wrong? You were his prisoner and your only duty was to pleasure him. And somehow... you felt more happy in this role than before, when you were free.

[funnyexel]

Short Stories

A little cuddle session (Gender/Sexuality Friendly)

Potential Yandere x Abused Fem!Reader

Quiet Tsundere x Reader

Yandere Villian x Identified Female Reader 

I’ve Missed You Beloved (Jack Sparrow x Gender Neutral Reader)

Newt Scamander x Black Female Reader (Oneshot)

Afraid of My Words (Request : Billy Loomis x Black Female Reader)

Give Yourself To Me (August Walker x Black Female Reader)

Second Chance (Gally x Black Female Reader)

Lets Play a Game (Albert Shaw x Black Female Reader)

A Routine (Brahms x Black Female Reader)

Yandere Blurbs

he's obsessed (yandere blurb)

loves you. hates them. (yandere blurb)

a thrill ride of obsession (yandere blurb)

its the stalker (yandere blurb)

missing items (yandere blurb)

what if your stalker loses the remaining piece of human decency he has left (yandere blurb)

imagine clark as your coworker (yandere blurb)

[jokeringcutio]

Imagine: Reader & Arthur Shaw Joining the Search Party

Imagine: Albert Shaw X (Teacher) Reader Warnings: 18+ content, Non-con, Kidnapping. Fandom: Black Phone.

Written for @myers-meadow. Note: I started a ficlet/oneshot. But I wasn't happy with the way it was turning out. So I tried an imagine instead and wanted to post that one before I give the other idea a go again. Hopefully, you'll still like it <3

Imagine: Being on the Search Party with Albert Shaw

When your father was offered a job, the whole family relocated to Denver. You were looking for an internship and found one offered at Denver’s local school. Naturally, you took it.

A few months after moving to your new house and the new job, the first kids started to disappear. And you started to worry about your own class. They were slightly younger than the kids taken by the now infamous Grabber, but with a man like this on the loose, you never knew.

And so you became more and more protective of your kids.

You wouldn’t let any leave the school on their own and encouraged them to travel in groups. Sometimes, you even brought some of the kids to their houses if they had no one to travel with.

You were a good teacher. Fresh on the job, but passionate and concerned. You thought of everything.

When another boy went missing, the local residents decided to assemble search parties.  Of course, you were joining them.

Everyone gathered in the local gym. You helped your parents prepare lunch bags for those who joined the search.

It was your mother who pushed you towards a man named Albert Shaw. He stood behind one of the tables and was handing out the bags. “You can help him,” she said. “Albert Shaw is a very nice man, and he could use a pair of extra hands.”

You were instantly smitten. Just the sight of the man brought butterflies to your belly and heat to your core. He was older, by far. His dark hair already graying at the temples, slicked back not by gel but because he had been wearing a baseball cap. You could see the item discarded at the side of the table.

After you handed him the bags, you watched his strong arms as he evenly distributed them on the table in front of him. The way those muscles twitched. You were salivating by the time he was done. It was sinful that a man like him, wearing an ordinary shirt with short sleeves, could look this attractive.

And you scolded yourself internally for staring a bit too long at his arms, and for blushing right after.

He caught your stare. You could tell by the way he smiled – there was a hint of mischievousness to it. And then he asked you if there was anything else you needed of him.

Embarrassed, you stuttered that you wanted to help. And he let you join him at the table, handing out bags together. It was comfortable around him, even though you felt a little painful pang in your chest when you watched the rings on his hands. Was he married? You shouldn't be getting any fancy thoughts avout him. You were pretty sure he wasn't for you.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” Albert murmured. You were certain it was just supposed to be a normal, polite, and kind conversation. Yet you couldn’t help but shake the thought that the way he said it might mean something more. That he was interested in you? Surely not.

You told him about the move, that you didn’t know that many people yet. That you still lived with your parents but worked as a teacher.

He admitted to have met your dad a few weeks ago. That he heard him talk about his clever daughter.

And then he started to ask one question after another about you and your life.

The whole interaction was nice, but it left you with a bitter aftertaste. Albert took every opportunity to give you compliments that made your heart swell and made you think he might be flirting with you. But then he would remark about your age, to you looking younger than you were, and you thought, surely not.

You’d felt great at the time because of all of his attention. But after, it had felt like there had been something off.

Just like your parents, you joined in the search. You had signed up the moment you could and joined a little group that would head into the woods surrounding Denver.

When the group was about to leave, that was when Albert came rushing over, requesting to come along. Your party leader allowed it, smiling and happily thanking Albert for his help.

“You’re always such a big support to our community,” he had said, gesturing for Albert to come along. “A pillar to Mr. Yamada as well.”

Apparently, Albert knew the missing kid’s father. He told you Yamada was part of a group of friends of his that he would hang out with. They would go bowling and hold barbecues. Have a beer.

You noticed how Albert stuck close to your side. And soon the two of you were talking about all sorts of things. Until you noticed the party had somehow split and you had lost sight of the others.

You had ended up with Albert alone.

He led you deeper into the woods, until the trees grew tall and the area became dark. Shadows covered the two of you.

His compliments became more obscene, but there was nowhere to go to. You didn't know your way around here and you feared you might be lost.

He said he thought he saw something, and you were brave enough to walk closer to the spot to have a look. Nothing.

But when you turned around, your heart nearly stopped.

Albert had donned a mask. A demonic one.

You asked him if he was okay? If this was his idea of a joke? But Albert was darn serious.

He wrestled you to the forest floor – honestly, there was no real competition. If his height hadn’t given him enough leverage over you, then the fact that he was much stronger than you would have done the trick. Any attraction you might have felt for him was suddenly gone and replaced with a cold dread when you felt his hands tightly upon your arms, his fingers were digging into your skin, leaving bruises.

He ripped open your blouse and shoved aside your bra. Twigs and leaves got stuck in your hair and between your fingers, but you couldn’t push him off.

Despite your struggle, he overpowered you with ease and he pushed your panties aside.

The thick fat tip of his cock was weeping when it was pressed between your folds, pre-cum smeared at your entrance.

You tried to push him off of you, hands against his arms and his chest, but he merely grunted. And even if you did not see his face, you could see the pleasure in his eyes. He was enjoying this, the bastard.

He thrust deep inside of you. Just one firm thrust. It made you gasp and cease your struggle. Your voice was hoarse from calling for help; calls he quieted with his hand while he started to thrust into you, up and up, deeper and deeper, until your back slid against the forest floor.

He made you feel dirty. His belly pressed against yours, his knees trapping you by the waist, his cock thrust hard into you. You could not help the little noises you made, from pleasure, from pain, a mixture of them both.

He chased his release without giving a damn about yours, and when he came, it was with a long grunt. Your eyes grew wide, knowing he was about to let you go. Right?

“Such a shame,” you heard the moaned whisper in your ear, “such a pretty little teacher. Ah well, the kids will have to do without you.”

He made you scream, the can of helium close to your lips. Then you lost consciousness.

~ * ~

There you were, the happy, pretty new teacher. Locked up in a basement.

It didn’t take you long to figure out the man who kept you here was Denver’s Grabber.

A man who took pleasure in watching you as you taught the innocent victims he took home with him. Knowing they’d be dead sooner rather than later. A waste of your talent – though he thought that it would be a waste if you never used your teaching skills on any kid ever again.

Right after he took you away, he was absent for nearly a day.

“Guess who we’ve been looking for?” he crooned, the missing poster with your photo on it was teasingly thrown in front of you.

“Found you. And you know what they say, finders keepers.”

Your new life in Denver didn't pan out the way you had planned. You're Albert's play thing now.

[spookiifi]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: The Black Phone (2022) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Albert | The Grabber (The Black Phone) & Reader, Albert | The Grabber (The Black Phone)/Reader Characters: Max Shaw (The Black Phone), Albert | The Grabber (The Black Phone), Reader Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, oblivious reader is oblivious, simps come get your food, Sexual Tension Summary:

Every dog was a puppy in your eyes. No matter how big or small.

Samson was practically your dog when Max wasn’t around. Despite the pup’s appearance, he really was a good boy.

During your day of pet-sitting, a certain someone gets home early from work.

--

@tinalbion I finished the first chapter OWO Here we go

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Okay so like it's probably just me but like...

(↑↑Ethan Hawke as Albert Shaw/The Grabber in 2022 The Black Phone↑↑)

(↑↑Ray Liotta as Syd White in 2023 Cocaine Bear↑↑)

Tell me it's not just me!

Objectively their both terrible men, one more so than the other (Obviously), but COME on!!!!!

They look so so damn fine, and yeah I hate myself for it, but that's not gonna stop me okay.

I've already got fantasies playing out in my head involving these two. (Because I'm a sucker for off the wall crossovers) And I'm probably gonna be subjecting y'all to it sooner or later.

If not imagines or fics together than definitely separate. Do I have daddy issues? Yeah apparently I do. FIGHT ME OKAY!?!?!

(Also I've got such a weakness for the 80s, like genuine 80s stuff not that neon bullshit okay. And men from the 80s tend to be so so fine to me, even with the haircuts and clothes that are kinda terrible. There's just something about it that draws me in like a moth to a flame. These two ain't no different dammit!)

Okay I got that out of my system... Look out for new content you didn't ask for soon! 😅

[mandowifey]

Headcanon request for either Albert Shaw or Arthur Harrow as a dad. But honestly, I would accept such a Headcanon for any villianeous character you write about. So surprise me.

This has been sitting in my head for awhile, so I'm excited to get to work on it.

I'm gonna do both these handsome fellas!

° ° °

Fatherhood

Albert Shaw & Arthur Harrow x Reader HCs

Warnings: Hints of Dubcon, definitely Noncon, implications of above mentions, crazy boys around kids, reader is not referred to by specific gender terms but is able to get pregnant.

♡ ♡ ♡

Arthur Harrow, first and foremost, wanted a child.

A child to him is a means of keeping you beside him. The bond would tie you two together forever. He likes the sense of control it brings him, especially over you. When you first met him, you were on the pill and mentioned never wanting kids of your own. But Arthur, as he does, convinces you otherwise. Perhaps even it was an 'accident'. He is certainly the kind of man who would swap your birth control with sugar pills. But he'd smile anyways and assure you it was fate.

While pregnant, you would be doted over. Every need met, whether it be from him or his followers. You would be given luxury and love and treasured like a little goddess. This is Arthur's child, after all, and that baby would be considered a herald. He would enjoy sitting with you, head on your stomach as you two talked. He would additionally make sure you ate well and took all the things you need for a healthy child. Arthur enjoys touching your belly while he reads or falls asleep. You have never looked more stunning.

When the child arrives, Arthur is in love immediately. While most wish for a boy, he always wanted a girl. Regardless, he was happy with whichever. He would sit beside you and help you cradle the crying newborn, imagining all the great things your baby would grow to accomplish. You, as the carrier, get to name the baby. Arthur would suggest names of course but leave the choice to you.

Fatherhood suits him. The man is extremely patient and controlled. He is great with teaching your child and helping them along. You've never heard him laugh so much before. There is considerable joy in his life now, and it shows. That baby would be raised with love and expectations. However, he is stern and unrelenting. The child never gets away with anything, and punishment is taken very seriously. It will learn that for actions, there are consequences.

I think Arthur would be a natural with parenting and fatherhood. He'd enjoy the molding of such a young life. He would eventually ask you for another, and maybe one more, once the first is a little older.

○ ○ ○

Albert Shaw has never wanted children. As a child, he was violently abused and mistreated. He can not mentally grasp the responsibility of a child (even if he can raise and train a dog, it's different).

That being said, in this instance, you are a victim/obsession that he's grown fond of and wants to keep. Pregnancy at its core appeals to him. The idea of his seed stuck inside of you, the fact that you are forced to grow and bear something that is equal parts his own excites him. He enjoys the thought of you being stuck with a piece of him inside of you and for life. But that is just about where it ends for him.

When you start showing signs of pregnancy, he'd simply watch. Maybe, depending on if he really enjoys you, he'll give you water and use his softer tone to reassure you that all was well. He does find it arousing that your skin clears and breasts swell - he'd be very interested in those. When your tummy grows, he'd touch it and talk to you about it, generally wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"How does it feel? Being stuck with a piece of me inside of you."

When it came time for birth, you were most likely alone. Stuck in the basement and forced to go through the entire process alone. In this instance, if you survived, he would return home surprised to see and hear a baby.

There is a long pause, and he is gripping and loosening his hands. You can't really tell what he's thinking. You would be filthy, tired, barely awake if not for that need to protect your newborn. He would come across the room and shake his head, scolding you about the mess you made. You are afraid when he sits beside you and looks at the child. Part of you wants to believe he cares, but you see no semblance of love in those eyes of his.

He'd sit in silence for a while, wincing if the baby cried. Eventually, when you got too tired to keep awake, he'd take the child out of your arms and leave the basement.

And you would never see the baby again.

[blakeshaw-oracle]

The Shaw Household at some point, probably:

Finney, to the room: If they come back to attack us, I think we should kill Al. Albert, looking to Finn: Oh yeah? Finney: Yeah. So they think we're crazy with nothing to lose. Max, nodding along: Smart, that's smart. Finney: Like, I'm imagining them rounding a corner and we're all blood-soaked and I'm wearing your face and they're like "Whose face is that?" Albert, trying to hold back a laugh: ... Finney, putting on a 'tough' voice: And I'm like "The last person that fucked with us." And that's just feeling like a really powerful image to me. Albert: Just... seems like they'd recognize my face. Robin, seriously: Maybe if you wore it inside out?

[dancingisdangerouss]

does The neighbor know who Albert is or did they change His identity?

She doesn’t know who he is. Just dumb luck; even if she did figure it out, I don’t think she’d recognize Y/N or put two and two together. I mean, maybe I’m just really bad with faces, but a well-known killer could walk by me on the street and I probably wouldn’t recognize them. And since it’s been a couple years since the trial and all, I imagine she doesn’t recall his face.

We do learn later on that he changed his last name, though. The name “Albert Shaw” is pretty well known now, after all. But most people know him by his masks.

[neversilent]

separate but doll Chucky and Albert Shaw with a reader who’s highly childish/age regressive?

AS SOMEONE WITH AGE REGRESSION, ILYSM FOR THIS! OMG!! I'll do them separately in this post!

HAVING A PARTNER WITH AGE REGRESSION! (CONTAINS CHUCKY, AND THE GRABBER/ALBERT SHAW)

CHUCKY:

• Now, he hates kids.. but he doesn't mind if his partner acts just a little like one! He thinks it's absolutely adorable.

• He'll snicker almost every time you do something child-like. Clapping, hopping, or kicking your feet when you get excited is one he likes the most. You get so giggly and it warms his heart! He was a man who couldn't process love correctly at one point, so knowing he feels it for you every time you light up over something small? He adores it.

• He doesn't even hesitate when you want to carry him. He won't admit it, but he likes it when you do! He knows that carrying him around gives you a comforting feel, you dont even have to tell him. He can tell by your sudden happy demeanor, even if it looks childish to carry a doll everywhere you go.

• He mainly tolerates your sudden energy boots, especially when they happen with no warning. Especially late at night! He'll sit on the bed, watching you play a game by yourself, occasionally joining. Even though he's tired, and will complain almost every ten minutes, he'll still stay awake to keep you company. Even if you tell him to go to bed. He'll even listen to you ramble about your interests until you get tired.

• You getting excited over other dolls or stuffed animals gets him a little jealous. He won't admit it out loud.. but it's noticeable. He'll glare at the doll, even though it isn't alive. Most of the time he'll try and do something to take your attention away from it and back onto him.

"Hey, uh, doll? Ain't that the one guy from that uh- show you like?" He'd ask, half rushed and not specific.

"Who? Where?" You'd quickly turn, interested but confused.

"Ah, forget it. I was imagining things. Let's just go somewhere else, hm? It's boring in here." He'd quickly change the subject, knowing your attention was no longer on some stupid stuffed animal.

• Hide and seek sessions happen a lot. Tag too. It's tiring for him, but he manages until your energy burst is gone.

• He'll kill absolutely anyone who makes fun of your age regression. And anyone who will try to tell you to "act your age."

ALBERT SHAW/THE GRABBER:

• When he first took you, he didn't even know you had it.. but he learned very fast. He was careful with you. Let you warm up to him.. After all, he didn't take you to bring harm to you. He just ran into you and had to have you, being terrified someone would have you before he could try.

• You warmed up to him eventually, and on days of good behavior he'd let you out of the basement and let you roam the house. Never outside though... Only when someone would forget your disappearance would he let that happen, and even then he'd be with you. You automatically got excited upon seeing his dog, Samson, a happy squeal escaping you. The quick mood change made him pick up on it.. you had been kidnapped less than a month ago, yet the moment you get to leave, a dog made you forget that you were STILL kidnapped?

• Once he had learned about your age regression, and your patterns, he learned to work with it.

• Easily emotional? That's okay! He'll help with that. He'll hold you, play with your hair and whisper words of assurance until you feel better.

• Being picky with your food? He'll make you whatever you'd like. He'll even get you candy here and there. He's picked up on your favorites...

• Your energy boosts excite him. He doesn't take long to join you, giggling with you as you two play in the basement. It's almost as if it wasn't even a kidnapping anymore.

• He'll lay with you, letting you examine and mess with his mask whenever he's noticed your interest in it, sometimes taking it off to let you hold it... though you aren't allowed to look at him unless he says otherwise. But you often allow him to wear it, since he's expressed how he hates having to keep it off.

• He's gotten you plenty of comfort blushes for you to hold or sleep with when he isn't there.

• It isnt very often, but if you are scared down in the basement (Due to rain, or loud noises, or just the feel of it getting to you), He'll let you sleep upstairs with him.

• Nobody really has the chance to talk about your age regression outside of the house, unless it was someone who knew you. He doesn't do much about it... He'll cause a scene though if he's out and it's getting out of hand. He'll shout at them how lovely of a person you "were" and that the age regression made you no different. He has to pretend he just knew you though, not once giving away that he still does. Everyone in town is under the impression that you're dead after all, he doesnt want to cause suspicion. He'll end up telling you about it later that night, the lips of his mask pressed against your neck as he assures you that he loves you like this, and wouldn't change anything.

"Don't you think I should.. I dunno.. be a little different? More.. normal?" You'd ask, only receiving a soft grip from the other.

"No.. I like you this way. You don't need to change. I don't care that you're childish. It really doesn't matter to me, Dove, it's what makes you so special.."

[javisuzumiya02]

Can you imagine Big Bro Linc as Indiana Jones?

In terms of allied characters, Albert (The Loud siblings' grandfather) as Sallah, Leni as Marion Ravenwood, Lori as Wilhelmina Scott, Shawn as Short Round and Lina as Helena Shaw.

In terms of antagonist characters, Vic McGilligudy as Mola Ram, Morag as Irina Spalko and Mr. Bolhofner as Jürgen Voller.

emmm nop.

[lovenaturelovepurpleblog]

Bob Dylan speech after he accepted the Nobel peace prize, Nobel Prize

Bob Dylan:

Good evening, everyone. I extend my warmest greetings

to the members of the Swedish Academy and to all of

the other distinguished guests in attendance tonight.

I'm sorry I can't be with you in person, but please know

that I am most definitely with you in spirit and honored

to be receiving such a prestigious prize. Being awarded

the Nobel Prize for Literature is something I never could

have imagined or seen coming. From an early age, I've

been familiar with and reading and absorbing the works

of those who were deemed worthy of such a distinction:

Kipling, Shaw, Thomas Mann, Pearl Buck, Albert Camus,

Hemingway. These giants of literature whose works are

taught in the schoolroom, housed in libraries around the

world and spoken of in reverent tones have always

made a deep impression. That I now join the names on

such a list is truly beyond words.

I don't know if these men and women ever thought of

the Nobel honor for themselves, but I suppose that

anyone writing a book, or a poem, or a play anywhere in

the world might harbor that secret dream deep down

inside. It's probably buried so deep that they don't even

know it's there.

If someone had ever told me that I had the slightest

chance of winning the Nobel Prize, I would have to think

that I'd have about the same odds as standing on the

moon. In fact, during the year I was born and for a few

years after, there wasn't anyone in the world who was

considered good enough to win this Nobel Prize. So, I

recognize that I am in very rare company, to say the

least.

I was out on the road when I received this surprising

news, and it took me more than a few minutes to

properly process it. I began to think about William

Shakespeare, the great literary figure. I would reckon he

thought of himself as a dramatist. The thought that he

was writing literature couldn't have entered his head.

His words were written for the stage. Meant to be

spoken not read. When he was writing Hamlet, I'm sure

he was thinking about a lot of different things: "Who're

the right actors for these roles?" "How should this be

staged?" "Do I really want to set this in Denmark?" His

creative vision and ambitions were no doubt at the

forefront of his mind, but there were also more

mundane matters to consider and deal with. "Is the

financing in place?" "Are there enough good seats for

my patrons?"

' "Where am I going to get a human skull?" I

would bet that the farthest thing from Shakespeare's

mind was the question "Is this literature?"

When I started writing songs as a teenager, and even as

I started to achieve some renown for my abilities, my

aspirations for these songs only went so far. I thought

they could be heard in coffee houses or bars, maybe

later in places like Carnegie Hall, the London Palladium.

If I was really dreaming big, maybe I could imagine

getting to make a record and then hearing my songs on

the radio. That was really the big prize in my mind.

Making records and hearing your songs on the radio

meant that you were reaching a big audience and that

you might get to keep doing what you had set out to do.

Well, I've been doing what I set out to do for a long time,

now. I've made dozens of records and played thousands

of concerts all around the world. But it's my songs that

are at the vital center of almost everything I do. They

seemed to have found a place in the lives of many

people throughout many different cultures and I'm

grateful for that.

But there's one thing I must say. As a performer I've

played for 50,000 people and I've played for 50 people

and I can tell you that it is harder to play for 50 people.

50,000 people have a singular persona, not so with 50.

Each person has an individual, separate identity, a world

unto themselves. They can perceive things more clearly.

Your honesty and how it relates to the depth of your

talent is tried. The fact that the Nobel committee is so

small is not lost on me.

But, like Shakespeare, I too am often occupied with the

pursuit of my creative endeavors and dealing with all

aspects of life's mundane matters. "Who are the best

musicians for these songs?"

" "Am I recording in the right

studio?" "Is this song in the right key?" Some things

never change, even in 400 years.

Not once have I ever had the time to ask myself, "Are my

songs literature?"

So, I do thank the Swedish Academy, both for taking the

time to consider that very question, and, ultimately, for

Providing such a wonderful answer,

Yours Truly

Bob Dylan,

[francis-writes]

hey! can you do a smut story with the grabber x reader? like some rough smut with degrading and praising? female reader?

Sorry it's so short, I have problems with writing recently but here you are. I will try to write the rest of your requests soon

TW: non-con, swearing

Well, it seemed that attempting to escape from the Grabber was a terrible idea. Too bad you realized it just when he was twisting your hand behind your back. "What's wrong, little dove?" He asked with anger in his voice as you gasped in pain. "You thought you can outsmart me? I believed you are special but it seems you are just as naughty as the others" He let go of your hand but your relief didn't last long. The Grabber pulled off your clothes - you were surprised but you had no chance of defence. He pushed you on the sofa backrest and made you bend in half as he took his belt in hand. "You need a punishment" He took a swing and hit your back. You screamed when sudden pain pierced your body. The Grabber raised his belt, getting ready to hit you again but then you heard sound of slamming the door and some voice called: "Al? Did I hear a scream?" The Grabber swore under his breath and put away his belt. You felt a sense of hope - somebody came to the house and they will see you! Maybe they will call the cops or help you escape. Of course, the Grabber may kill the witness but it will probably be too problematic for him. Your hope was replaced by anxiety when your kidnapper hold you in place with his strong hand and you noticed with the corner of your eye him struggling with unzipping his pants. "What are you-" you tried to ask but he finally pulled down his pants and entered you with no hesitation. You screamed again, but this time it wasn't caused by pain. You only felt surprised. And to your surprise, it was pleasurable a bit... but you still tried to escape his grasp. He only squeezed your body so hard you moaned. "One bad move" he whispered "and nobody leaves it alive" "Did you s-" a man entered the room and fell silent at sight of the Grabber pounding you like a maniac. He quickly left the room. You only heard embarassed "sorry!" from behind the closed door. When the footsteps in the corridor stopped, you expected your kidnapper to stop but he kept going. "He's gone" you said, fighting for breath. "And what about it? I am not done yet" he was breathing heavily but he was still thrusting in fast pace "I told you, bitch, you need to be punished. I just changed the form of it" Suddenly he pulled out and turned you around. He lifted you, put on the sofa backrest and leaned over to suck on your nipples. It was nice. You started stroking his hair, actually enjoying the experience until without any warning he bit you. You moaned, a few tears ran down your cheek. "Please, stop... i beg you" you cried. The Grabber looked up and took your cheek in his hand. You thought he changed his mind but then he slapped you. Your face felt like scorched. "Whores like you don't deserve mercy" he said and started thrusting into you again "You disgust me" You tried to say something but he grabbed your throat and squeezed it until you saw stars in front of your eyes.

[funnyexel]

Lets Play a Game

Albert Shaw x Black Female Reader

A/n: It’s Black History Month! And a New Year….oh my gosh, I literally haven’t posted in months. I need to make up the time lost. With more stories appreciating Black people especially women! That’s why I’m posting this story. Apparently its like weird to write? Which is definitely hypocritical of people to say but hey! What do I know? Anyway if you like this tag enjoy it, case closed.

Warning(s): Brat, Brat Tamer, Spanking, Choking, Fingering, Oral (Male Receiving), Humiliation, Over Stimulation, Denial

story begins below cut…

p.s. he isn’t a killer in this so yeah

“Are you ready?” He asks, anticipating your answer. Your ecstatic nod turns to a slow shake of your head.

“Can you explain the rules again please?” You fold your hands in front of you.

“Of course I can, dove. You better be listening this time.” He points at you, lifting your chin with his index finger.

“I am.” You smile.

“I will count from 30 with my eyes closed, you, dove will hide and if I can’t find you then you win.”

Your eyes light up at the sound of your victory.

“But if I find you, I win. Understand?”

You hum a yes, determined to finally win a game against him other than rock, paper, scissors.

“And what does the winner get?” You exclaim, wanting to know your prize when you win.

“Whatever you want.” Your eyes widen at his words.

“Whatever I want? Like anything?” He nods at your slight confusion, you nearly jump up in excitement, “I’m ready! Let's play.”

He smirks at your eager attitude. Giving you a peck, he kisses your cheek for good-luck. Turning around, he covers his eyes and you take that as your cue to hide.

Leaving the kitchen, you try to use your time wisely, gathering a few pillows and stuffing them behind a curtain. Slipping through the cracked bedroom door, you look to the closet, opening the door and think to hide inside but how much more cliché can you get.

“9, 8, 7”

Leaving the closet alone, you drop to the floor and scoot under the bed, in the knick of time as he reached 1. Breathing slow, you listen to his footsteps.

“Clever little girl,” he must’ve come across your distraction.

Now would probably be a good time to choose your prize, closing your eyes, you imagine him under you moaning as you ride him. Hands interlocked while you keep eye contact with him, surely driving him to an unforgettable orgasm.

“I know you’re in here dove.”

Your fantasy is interrupted by the very man you are fantasizing about. Holding your breath you watch as he walks around the bed, looking into the closet and closing its door. He walks out the bedroom, shutting the door on the way out.

Waiting until you hear his footsteps fade from the door, you roll from under the bed and tip toe inside the closet. He would definitely look under the bed the next time he comes in the room so it only makes sense that you change spots. He practically set up your next hiding spot, closing the closet door in which you forgot to do. This time he bursts through the door.

“I didn’t think you’d be this good at hiding.” He says in a sarcastic tone, lifting the mattress to see nothing under the bed frame. You can see his irritation through the shutters of the closet. He heads to the door once more and walks out slamming it closed. You let out a small sigh of relief, holding your chest. Your glimpse of victory is snatched from you as the door harshly slides open and your boyfriend pops up with a stupid smirk.

“I win.” Your expression turns from startled to upset. Pushing past him, you leave the room, genuinely wanting to punch a wall.

”You never let me win!” You whine, throwing your arms up.

“Now, now, dove don’t be a sore loser.”

He marveled, catching up to your furious walk. Stopping in the kitchen, you avoid eye contact with him. Was that chair there when we started?

“No! I always lose. I wanna play again, thats not fair!” He shrugs at your new bratty behavior.

“The game doesn’t work like that…Maybe you’ll like the prize this time-”

You interrupt him and proceed to talk over him.

“-No I won’t! It's not fair!”

You yell at him. He glances at the chair then looks at you.

“Dove, I don’t want to do this. Apologize.” He leans down, warning you in a low tone. You pout and shake your head.

“No!“ He grabs your forearm and pulls you towards him, not without you resisting and tugging away. Regardless he still manages to pull you on his knees, stomach first. Your attempt to get off his lap fails as he forcefully pushes you down.

“Why did you have to be a bad girl?” The familiar sound of a belt buckle makes you hang your head low in defeat.

“I can fix that.”

He rubs your ass before hitting it with the belt. You yelp, gripping the edge of the chair.

“Count.” He sternly says, all enthusiasm gone. He manages to hit the exact same spot and you scream, your toes curling up then stretching out.

Grabbing the back of your throat, he lifts your head so you can look at him, “I. Said. Count.”

He drops your neck recklessly.

“o-one.” He hums to your quiet voice.

“fiv-five.”

You sigh and rest your head down on the edge of his knee. You let out a throaty moan as he hits lower on your ass and the friction sparks on your cunt. You make sure to count and you could swear you heard him chuckle a little.

“Naughty girl likes slaps on her ass, hm?”

You cross your ankles as his finger slides down your shorts, caressing your lips and pushing into your tight hole. You hear the belt drop to the floor and visibly relax.

“eight!”

You whine as a tear travels down your cheek, his palm hurting more than the belt. He hits you two more times and finally stopped, taking his finger out your pussy and making you stand up.

“I want to see.”

You wipe your face full of tears, listening to him obediently as you take off your underwear and shorts in one go.

“You’re all wet and red.” He says as you turn around for him.

Looking at your body, you see all the red lines and handprints, anyone can see it even on your darker skin complexion.

“Come here.” He calls to you and you face him.

“Tell me, what do you want.” His hands holding your hips, move down to your thigh then back up.

“I-I want…” You stutter feeling embarrassed to voice the fantasy, he yanks you down to sit on his lap. Using his thumb he wipes the tear stains off your face, taking your shirt off, “I want to be on top, please.”

You look down, his hand grips the side of your stomach at your answer. Shoving your legs open, he completely disregards your response as he sticks two fingers in your sopping cunt. Whining at the sudden action, your hand sneaks around his neck for comfort.

“Little dove wants to ride me.”

He teases, curling his fingers inside of you, moving his hand up and down fast so you feel a delicious pace. Your eyes can barely stay focused on him, a twist in your stomach promising release.

Your moans echo through the kitchen as you move your hips on his fingers. He hums a grunt, your hips also moving on his hard dick that’s confined to his pants for now. His head ducks down to suck on your breast, his tongue swirling on your nipple and bitting on it, the feeling dancing on the edges of pleasure and pain. The hand resting on his shoulder, moves into his hair, scratching his scalp and your head leans back.

“please.” You whine with zero self respect.

Lifting his head up, you basically left your neck on display for him to mark. You smile as the position starts to shift from you sitting on the side of his lap to straddling him, both his hands moving up your back as he kisses and bites up your neck. This happens at the cost of losing your orgasm. Sighing in frustration, you reach down to his pants, getting as far as unzipping his pants before he stares at you.

“Stand, dove.” Getting correct footing, you get off his lap and he raises to his full height.

Your neck hides in the blanket of his palm as he kisses your lips. You give him a sloppy kiss in return. His squeezing at your neck makes you break the kiss, you show a ditzy look in your eye, totally out of it, the only thing truly on your mind is fucking yourself on something to come. Dragged by your throat to the bedroom, he closes the door behind him and shoves you down to your knees.

“Can you get my cock ready to fuck you silly? Hm, dove?” He asks you twice, seeing you zoning out looking at his bulge.

You nod, brainlessly moving his pants and boxers as his dick sprung out of the clothing it slapped your cheek. Lifting his dick up in your hands, you lick the underside while looking up to him with big eyes. Spitting in your hand, you give him a small handjob, kissing the tip and sliding it in your mouth. You stretch your mouth wide to fit his first half comfortably on your tongue.

“Sometimes, I love you more with your mouth full, dove.”

His knuckle rubs your cheek and you hum, sending vibrations through his body. He stifles a moan at the feeling, using his other hand to grip the back of your braids, pushing the rest of his cock inside your mouth.

“Mm, watch the teeth.”

He says politely, knowing that he was the cause of your teeth grazing his dick. He soon takes control over the situation, holding your head in place as he snaps his hips at a harsh pace. Your choking and gagging being music to his ears, the soft gasps of air you take when he removes his cock from your lips makes his dick twitch, itching to go back to your warm throat. You don’t prioritize breathing as much as you should in the moment, the only thing truly concerning you is when he’ll put that dick back in your mouth. He slaps your cheek twice in a playful manner.

“Breathe.” He tells you, noticing that you’re not breathing enough for his satisfaction.

The last thing he wants is for you to pass out from choking on dick. Taking a deep breath, you lookup through your lashes and smile, hoping he’ll continue his activities with your throat. Opening your mouth to show you’re ready.

“You are such a slut dove,” he chimed with a grunt, feeling the back of your throat, “What would your family say, hm? Seeing their daughter being such a whore for me,” A pit in your stomach heats up again.

Your hand sneaks down to your clit and sinks two fingers in you. It feels small compared to his hand but anything will work. He’s unaware that you’re fingering yourself to his throat fucking, it's your imagination taking over, it would be amazing if he would fuck your pussy like that.

You clench around your fingers and at the same time he gave you a chance to breathe but instead of that, you moaned. Panting while looking up at him, tears flowing down your cheeks. Stoking his cock to your fingering, he grabs your arm earning a whiny complaint. Yanking you to the bed, he sits first on the side of it, you crawl to straddle him as your hands grip his shoulders. Situating yourself, you sit up, lining his cock up with your entrance. You slide it in and the gushy noises fill the room.

“finally…” You exclaim out of breath, your clit rubbing against his pelvic bone.

Squeezing on him a few times, his hands run over your back scratching it when you start bouncing up and down. Your hands run through his long hair and your eyes focus on him. Your breathing syncs up as you lean into him more, your lips hovering over his. Closing your eyes, he fiercely traps your lips in a kiss, a steaming, hot, nasty kiss. His tongue wondering around your mouth, turning your head from side to side you try to match his odd kiss. He’s told you many times you’re horrible at multitasking and it’s clearly being proven, when your hips halt as you kiss him. His hands moving your hips back and forth. Breaking the kiss, you rub your clit.

“m’gonna…” You mutter, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut.

Toes curling at the stimulation, you moan through your orgasm. Your chest heaves up and down to intake all the air you can. He’s the love of your life. No matter what he can do no wrong in your eyes. Not now, not later, not ever and not even in another universe. He is perfect and no one can ever make you feel bad for thinking that, for loving that. He is all you want.

a/n: Thanks so much for reading! Remember to enjoy what you like without caring about others opinion. To all the fellow black people have a wonderful month!! Asks/Requests are also open.

writing list

[jokeringcutio]

Albert Shaw x (younger f girlfriend) Reader - Unwind (Explicit/Smut)

Fandom: Black Phone

Pairing: Albert Shaw (the Grabber) x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Rough sex on the couch, Consensual Sex, Creampie, Older man/younger woman, Age difference/Age Gap, Girlfriend Reader, College Reader, Mention of parents, mention of not being on birth control. (Not beta-read)

Unwind

The warmth of Albert Shaw's cozy living room enveloped you. The two of you were set on the grey soft couch, the flickering lights of the television screen forming patterns over Albert’s face. The sound was turned off – there were adverts on anyway. And so you studied him instead.

You thought back to the day you met Albert - a kid's birthday party, your younger brother's. His magical performance had left everyone in awe. You smiled at the memory as he sat across from you, his chestnut hair framing his face, flecks of grey at the roots.

How he had captured your heart with just a smile. You came to understand that picking you out as his assistant had not been a coincidence at all. But, as he later told you once things between you got serious, it had been love at first sight. And he had wanted to see you from up close.

"Another child went missing last night," you said softly, an uneasy tension settling over the room while outside the wind howled like a beast. "They're calling him the Grabber."

Albert flinched, his bright blue eyes darkening for a moment. He glanced towards the basement door, then back at you. "That's terrible," he muttered, his voice low and gruff. You noticed the way his fingers tapped nervously on the armrest of the couch, but you continued talking, trying to fill the silence that threatened to swallow you both.

"Everyone in Denver is terrified. No one knows who it could be." Your voice wavered, betraying your own fear. "Can you imagine what those poor families must be going through?"

Albert pursed his lips, staring ahead of him before his blue eyes finally found yours. You didn’t need to voice the fear that was deep inside of you. Your brother was just the right age to be of interest to the mysterious kidnapper that plagued your city.

“I don’t want you to worry about it, dear,” he said, voice low and smooth. Whenever you heard him you felt butterflies fluttering deep inside. How could a man sound like this and be real? It sounded too good to be true. But here he was, with you, comforting you.

“If you worry about your brother, know that I am here,” his hand gave yours a gentle squeeze, and a small smile played on his lips. “I’ll make sure the Grabber doesn’t get him.”

You let out a soft laugh. His words were exactly what you needed to hear. “Then I am happy to have such a heroic man as my boyfriend.”

Next to your side, Albert seemed to stiffen, then his eyes settled on you again and he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah,” was all he said. But you’d noticed it. Something was off about him, had been off for a while. But today it was worse. There was a certain glint to his eyes, a twitch to his hands. As if he was nervous.

"Albert," you said gently, noticing his jitteriness. "Is everything alright? Did something happen at work?"

He avoided your gaze and shook his head. "No, nothing happened. I'm just... a little on edge, that's all." His fingers brushed against yours as he let out a low chuckle. "You know what could help me relax, though, don't you?"

You furrowed your brow, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. He had always been a bit cryptic, but this time, you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

“Want some tea? Or a massage?” You stuttered, thinking of all the possible things that could help make him relax. “I could run you a hot bath?”

“Hmm, a massage sounds about right,” Albert hummed, hand withdrawing from the armrest as he turned to look at you, blue eyes glinting in the dim light of the room. “A very specific massage.”

You blinked at him, mind raking over the possible types of massage that there existed. “Sure,’ you said.

You watched as he moved his hands downward until they rested above the bulge between his legs. In the dim light, you hadn’t quite recognized the tent he was sporting. And when he remained silent and just observed you patiently, as if waiting for something, you grew worried.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" you asked, concern lacing your voice. You wanted to be there for him, to support him through whatever was causing him distress.

"Maybe you could... help me unwind?" Albert suggested with a sly grin, leaning closer to you. His hand slid up your arm, fingertips sending shivers down your spine. "You've got such a soothing touch."

You blinked in confusion, still not fully grasping the implications of his words. Your heart pounded in your chest, an odd mixture of anxiety and excitement bubbling within you. Albert's closeness was both comforting and electrifying, and you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

"Of course," you murmured, unsure of what he truly desired, yet eager to bring him relief from his tension.

His lips descended on your hair again, then slowly trailed down to your cheek. Open-mouthed kisses, with his tongue peeking out every now and again. His hand grasped yours and placed it on his bulge where you felt him swell underneath your palm and e fabric. Your eyes widened when you finally understood what this was all leading to.

"Albert," you whispered, realization finally dawning upon you. "You want me to...?"

"Help me find release," he finished your sentence, his voice husky and low. The intensity in his bright blue eyes darkened as desire consumed him.

"Of course," you breathed, a shiver of anticipation running through you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. His lips met yours hungrily, pressing forcefully against your own.

He responded with a needy growl, his hands gripping your waist tightly, almost painfully so.

"Such a good girl," he praised between fevered kisses, his chestnut brown hair brushing against your face as he moved to your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin there. Your whimpers only seemed to spur him on further as his hand slid underneath your shirt and bra.

He peeled away your clothes one by one, mouth feverishly covering all parts of you, leaving no part of you unexplored. All the while, your hand moved up and down his bulge, still covered by his pants. A wet spot had started to form, soaking through his clothes. And a low groan near your ear made you look up to see a hunger in his eyes that left you breathless.

His rough hands explored every inch of your body, leaving no part untouched. The forcefulness of his actions sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making you acutely aware of how much you craved this side of him. He bent you over the couch, flipped you, and angled you in such ways as gave him the most pleasure. The light of the television lit your body and formed patterns of fireworks and stars across your naked skin as Albert undid his belt.

The revelation made your mouth water. It wasn’t that you hadn’t ever done this before. Albert had been quite persuasive and you had been just as hungry for him to allow him to take you to his bed. You’d bled for him that first time, had tasted him out of curiosity, had allowed him to own you completely and fuck all of your holes. And now that he craved you, you felt you craved him as well.

Let him unwind. You could do with a little fun yourself.

"Please," you gasped, desperate for him to take you completely. "I need you, Albert."

He didn't need any more encouragement. He flipped you over until you were lying on your tummy on the couch. His hand pressed your head down while the other traced past your hip – gently.

His breath stuttered –  a deep inhale that sounded more like a beast ready to pounce on its prey. Perhaps it was, because, in one swift motion, he entered you, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. He moved his hips without allowing you to accommodate, tight pussy being stretched unreasonably past its limits. The pain quickly gave way to exquisite pleasure as he started to move, and you pushed your hands against the couch as he thrust into you with a ferocity that made your head spin. The loud moan that escaped you had Albert halt.

“Be quiet now, baby girl,” his low voice grunted. “We don’t want to wake Samson.”

You glanced over at where the dog was, thinking that surely the creature would not mind. But Albert had been more often like this. One day he wanted you to scream, the next he wanted no one to know he was fucking his much younger girlfriend.

“Can you be quiet for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep silent. But it took effort as his hips pushed against your pelvis deliciously hard, like a man possessed. For a moment you thought about asking him to be gentler with you, but then you remembered you’d promised to help him out. And if this was what he needed, then let him have it. You could take it.

He moved with fierce movements, cockhead hitting your cervix with bruising force, over and over. It was different than any fucking you had before. How could you remain silent like this?

You gasped and clawed your fingers against the couch in an attempt to get some leverage. He straightened his spine and then raised your hips, propping a pillow underneath, before he bore down deep inside of your cunt, grunting and groaning as he punished your pussy relentlessly with harsh thrusts. He was no longer a man, but something from Hell. Something devilish, both in looks and actions.

“So tight,” he groaned, words like hoarse whispers falling from his lips. “So fucking good.”

Soft gasps and unbidden moans escaped your lips as wet squelching sounds filled the room. A dull ache was felt deep below, and you bit your lip to keep from crying out. The scent of sex tainted the air and sweat made your bodies shimmer in the flickering lights.

Animalistic groans escaped the man above you and you wished you could see him. But he had your head pushed forward onto the couch, ass against his chest while his cock nestled deep inside your cunt while he groaned. He pulsed deep inside of you. Had he come? He hadn’t, right?

He left you no time to ponder because his hand grasped your hair and pulled at it, hand forming a fist as he lifted you from your current position. He was thrusting harshly inside of you again. You’d never known him like this before. So wild, so violent. Yet your pussy loved it, walls fluttering around his shaft in a way you never had experienced before.

The thrusts were deep, too deep perhaps, and you were gasping, biting back pleas to be gentle because you fucking loved it. You loved how he roughly manhandled you until you knew that bruises from his hands would form on your arms and hips.

You loved how good his cock felt battering deep inside your cunt even if you knew it would leave you sore for days to come. You loved how he dominated you, uncaring about your well-being or your wishes or the fact that he wasn’t supposed to come inside. His hips moved against yours roughly, and as he tried to reposition you – being so strong despite his age – your arm bumped against the table next to the couch, accidentally knocking something off the table. You turned your head to look, even if Albert tried to pull you back for a kiss.

The television’s light became bright, illuminating a hideous grin that stared up at you. Taunting. Haunting.

“What is that mask doing here?” you wondered, catching a glimpse of what could only be described as a demonic-looking mask, bigger than Albert’s head.

Your head was forcefully tugged aside, the grip on your hair making you flinch and unable to look at the mask any longer, as Albert guided you back onto the couch until you were on your back with him on top, legs spread wide at either side of his chest, allowing him to plow as deep inside of you as your tight little channel allowed. When he re-entered you, the slick sounds were a disturbing indicator of how wet he had made you.

“I said, keep your mouth shut,” Albert said through gritted teeth, forcing your head to turn so you were looking at him again. A thrust of his hips, a wet squelch as cum slipped past the hilt of his cock, escaping the depths of your cunt.

He was on his way to his second orgasm, hips stuttering irregularly against your own. You did not see it though, only heard the wet sounds from where your bodies met and felt the irregularity of his thrusts.

“Lips sealed, sweetheart,” he muttered before he descended upon you once more, lips hungrily working against your own.

You gasped, allowing him easy access until his tongue was licking against yours. You kissed him back just as eagerly, hands finding a way to his chest to hold him – perhaps teasing his nipples a bit deliberately but he had definitely earned that.

The kiss ended abruptly. Your mind was foggy and no longer focused on the hideous mask you had seen. Instead, all you could focus on was his mesmerizing blue half-lidded eyes as he studied you in between thrusts. His right hand grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head. His left rested on your waist, near your hipbone, pressing down possessively.

It felt good, so good.

"Mine," he grunted, eyes locked onto yours as he claimed you entirely. His relentless pace continued, pushing you both towards a precipice neither of you could resist.

"Yours," you managed to choke out, overcome by the intensity of the moment. The hard fucking was delicious, the battering of his cock against your cervix sent ripples of pleasure down your core until your walls pulsed around his shaft, milking him, begging him to come.

He hunched over you, his chest warm against your breasts as he rutted into you like a beast in heat. As the wave of ecstasy crashed over you, his grip held your hands above your head while your pussy pulsed around his throbbing cock. You gasped as he leaned in even further, folding you even more than you were, getting in so deep it hurt.

"Remember this," Albert panted, his gaze never leaving yours. The world around you seemed to blur and fade away, leaving only the two of you tangled together in a moment of raw, unbridled passion. “Only I can give you what you crave.”

And you believed him. He had ruined you, he once told you. And in this moment, you fully believed he had.

Albert groaned your name in your ear as he came, as the warmth of his cum filled you for a second time and a low groan exhibited his release. Wordlessly, Albert moved his hips against you, his cock moving inside you with less force now, thrusts light. You gasped, eyes searching for his. But he was studying the way your bodies connected. Another low groan as he carefully slipped from your core.

A deep sigh and a rustle of the couch as Albert got up off it to get some tissues. You watched through half-lidded eyes how he cleaned his cock, then got out some fresh tissues to dab between your legs. He halted there, looking up at you to make sure he had your attention, tissue still pressed against your weeping cunt.

“I got a bit rough with you, sweetheart,” he said, although you were not quite sure if it was an apology or just a statement.

You flashed him a small smile, lying on your back, sated. “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you quipped.

Albert grinned and continued wiping your sore pussy clean. You noticed the copious amount of cum that came into the tissues, but decided not to comment on any of it. You’d get the morning-after pill, you decided quietly. He didn’t need to know or worry, and neither should you.

After you were both presentable again, you felt how Albert scooted on the couch with you. He held you close, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. His lips, tender and searching, found yours in a kiss that was both soft and intense. It felt as if he was trying to convey his deepest emotions through the delicate press of skin against skin.

"God," he murmured, his breath warm on your cheek. "I don't know how I got so lucky."

His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, banishing the chill that had begun to seep into your bones. You smiled, nestling closer to him as your fingers traced lazy patterns on the expanse of his chest.

"Me neither," you whispered, feeling a sense of belonging that you hadn't known was possible.

Moments later, Albert reluctantly untangled himself from you, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to memorize every detail. With a soft kiss placed on your forehead, he rose from the couch and made his way to the bathroom.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you were left alone with your thoughts. The memory of Albert's rough touch lingered on your skin. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized just how much you'd enjoyed it. The raw, unbridled passion. You enjoyed it too.

And then, how you had allowed him to fully conquer you. It should raise questions. In a way, it did, because you should have stopped him from having this unprotected sex when he knew you weren’t on the pill. You wanted to, but… something about money. Plus, you were still in college and your parents were being a bitch about you dating anyone.

You couldn't help but wonder how you could introduce Albert to them. They would surely question your relationship with someone so much older than you. But you were certain they would come to see what a genuinely incredible man he was – if only they could look past the age difference. They had liked him at your brother’s party. Your dad had always spoken highly of Albert, knowing him of the Denver bowling team.

Carefully, you got off the couch, not completely surprised when a squelch announced some more cum escaping your core. Annoyed by the mess that dribbled down your legs, and the fact that Albert was keeping the bathroom occupied, you threw on your sweater and walked to the kitchen instead.

You rinsed your hands with water before taking another tissue to dab between your legs. Was sex always this messy, you wondered? The times you and Albert had been at it, he’d often pulled out and cum over your chest. You’d even swallowed his load a few times. But this… this was new.

Not to say you didn’t like it.

Lost in thought, you were startled by a sudden pounding noise coming from the direction of the basement door. Your heart skipped a beat as the eerie sound echoed through the otherwise silent house.

"Albert?" you called out, hoping that the noise was nothing more than a trick of your imagination. But the banging continued, insistent and undeniable.

“Samson?” you asked, hoping it was Albert’s dog. But Samson came padding around the corner and looked at you with blurry eyes, as if your call had just awoken him.

“Hmm, not Samson then,” you whispered, patting the dog on his head and telling him he was a good boy – even if Samson sniffed between your legs, pressing his wet nose a bit too close to your private parts before letting out a happy yip and scurrying back into the living room again.

Tentatively, you pulled the sweater lower so it covered most of your hips, making you feel a little less exposed as you as you approached the door. A sense of dread began to worm its way into your chest, tightening its grip with every step you took.

"Albert?" you called again, more urgently this time. There was no response, only the relentless pounding that seemed to grow louder with each passing second.

Finally, you reached the door, your hand hovering uncertainly above the doorknob. Inhaling a deep breath, you steeled yourself for whatever lay beyond. With your heart hammering in your chest, you grasped the cold metal and turned it.

~

Fin

~

AN: Whoops, sorry not so sorry about that ending. Anyway, I wrote this in a hurry and slept 12 hours after my latest hospital visit yesterday, so pardon any inconsistencies or mistakes.

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Love you all

[c0ffinshit]

♡ MASTERLIST ♡

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

this is my official master list, including every piece i’ve made up to the current year. so spend as much time as you need, reading!

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

ETHAN HAWKE 𖹭

Ellison Oswalt [Sinister 2012]-

Then I Saw Her: 1 , 2

Ernst Toller [First Reformed 2017]-

May Loving You Be The Death of Me: 1 , 2

James Sandin [The Purge 2013]-

Her: 1 , 2 , 3

Ray Harris [Raymond & Ray 2022]-

Snap Out of It: 1 , 2

Albert Shaw (The Grabber) [The Black Phone 2021]-

Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4

Angel Eyes

OTHER CHARACTERS 𖹭

Adam Sackler [Girls 2012--2017]-

Our Own Meet-Cute

Dexter Morgan [Dexter 2006--2013]-

Hello, You: Prologue , 1

Francis Munch [Mr. Right 2015]-

The Girl Behind the Aura

Gary King [The World's End 2013]-

The Music or the Misery

Robert Renfield [Renfield 2023]-

Lust for Life

Make Damn Sure

Simon (John Q.) [Dinner in America 2020]-

Reach Down

Theo Dimas [Only Murders in the Building 2021--2024]-

Maybe You are Prefect , Back to December

MISCELLANEOUS 𖹭

Headcanon, Imagines, Requests, and Other Short Creations by c0ffinshit

The Doctor Will See You Now: A Short Story Collection

[arsenic-catnep]

I have a slashers request for them reacting to coming home and sees their s/o waiting for them in bed wearing lingerie? (Thomas, Vincent and Albert Shaw)

Thomas Hewitt

When Tommy opened the door to he and his beloved's bedroom, he was surprised to see the room was dimly lit.

It was still early afternoon, a few hours before dinner. Perhaps his lover was feeling sick. Worry bubbled up inside him.

He closed the door behind him and began removing his mask. His lover must have heard him come in, the door to the bathroom creaked open.

"Close your eyes." they giggled as they spoke. Tommy was confused, but did as they asked. He made his way to sit on the edge of the bed, a small smile spread across his lips as he closed his eyes.

His heartbeat was heavy as he waited, for what, he didn't know. The bathroom door creaks again and he heard their feet pad across the floor.

He lightly jumps as they grip his shoulders, using him as leverage to climb onto his lap. Hands instinctively reach up to help them settle, the fabric of their shirt feels odd beneath his touch.

"Open them." they whisper to him once they've successfully straddled his thighs. Tommy's breath catches in his throat when his lashes flutter open.

His beloved was in a pink lace babydoll negligee. A wide smile on their perfect pink lips. He could feel his whole body heat up.

It took all his strength to not tear their outfit to shreds and fuck them into the mattress. No, he had to take his time and savor this.

Vincent Sinclair

When he had finally emerged from the cave he calls a workshop, it was well past midnight.

Vince expected his beloved to be in bed by that time, yet when he climbed the stairs he saw the light was on in their room.

He entered quietly, just in case they were sleeping. The door clicked shut behind him, and he turned to the bed.

The view that awaited him was nothing short of beautiful. They were lounged on their side, a novel in hand. The tight black lace of their lingerie hugged their body perfectly.

Their eyes flutter up to meet his and Vincent feels a pang of anxiety hit his chest. How long had they been waiting? He wished they would have hinted or something, he feels awful for working so late.

They just smile, and move to get up. Vincent rushes to them, keeping them sat at the edge of the bed. He shakes his head, and signs 'This for me?'

His beloved giggles and reaches for his hands. "Of course silly. Who else?" they bring his knuckles to their lips, kissing the calloused skin.

Vincent is sure he has found an angel to love. Although, the way he's about to defile them will be nothing short of sacrilegious.

Albert Shaw

The sun had nearly set, and Al had just gotten home from closing the store. He was surprised to find the house quiet.

A small drip of worry passed through his body as he walked through the dim living room.

Slowly he made his way to the bedroom, soft light glowed from under the door.

He quietly peered into the room, and a smirk played across his lips as he watched his beloved pull at the red lingerie that adorned their body.

They turned and modeled themselves in the mirror. Their eyes darted to Albert in the reflection of the glass, they nearly jumped out of their skin.

"Oh my God! I'm sorry, this was supposed to be a surprise." they pouted and turned to him. The smirk never faded, and he approached them.

His large hands gripped at their waist as he admired the lace on their skin. "Well hun, consider me surprised."

Albert twisted them, and turned them around as his hands roamed their body. He was inspecting every inch of them, and he liked what he saw.

"Wanna be my good girl tonight?"