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ghostiesnightmare · 1 month ago

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Bound by Kindness

Pairing: The Grabber x Female Reader Summary: A raging blizzard brings an injured man to your doorstep. Against your better judgement, you decide to help him and show some compassion. But as the snow piles up, so does the tension, and you begin to wonder if your kindness was a terrible mistake. TW: DARK content, non-con, gore, blood, stalking, power imbalance, kidnapping, foul language, violence, choking, degradation, unprotected sex, bondage, loss of virginity, rough sex, abuse, and more. Read at your own risk. Word Count: 12,453 -Damn, she's long. MDNI- NSFW

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You always hated the cold. The frigid air was teeth-chattering inducing, causing your breaths to come out in steamed huffs. Another gust of wind whipped through the empty streets, and you tugged your coat closer to your body, trying to fend off the chill seeping into your bones. Thick globs of snow fell intensely in the December air, each singular snowflake seemingly making it their goal to cling to your layers and burrow into your skin. Crossing your hands over your chest, you tilted your head down and continued to brave the blizzard. Trudging through the sludge, your toes burned within your boots, mentally cursing you for not wearing warmer socks. It would take a miracle to keep your boots from becoming soaked, and your bones ache at the thought. Gritting your teeth, you questioned your sanity at the idea of walking the few blocks home instead of waiting for the storm to pass.

December was always like this in Denver, with snow piling up until you felt as if it could sweep you away among the banks of frigid white. Living in a snowglobe, as some would say. Sometimes the weather looked like it came straight out of a Hallmark postcard, with the picturesque pine trees dotted with snow and Christmas decorations adorning every house in aesthetic symmetry. Being in the postcard however, was a completely different story, with frigid nights that left you burrowed under multiple blankets next to the fireplace of your house. Looking up into the night sky at the silent snowfall around you, you almost would have said it was pretty if you were trying to keep your teeth from chattering beneath the wool scarf strung around your lower face.

The streets were almost empty, with most preferring to huddle up indoors rather than face the wrath of the cold. A stray car would creep down the streets, headlights blinding you for a moment before veering onto another street, almost as anxious to get home as you were. Pushing onwards, you picked up your pace, boots crunching against the snow on the cracked sidewalks. At this rate, there would be ice coating every surface come morning, and you mentally noted to salt your section of sidewalk to prevent any hazards as the snow died down. Trudging past yet another snowman, you glanced at the bulking individual. Twigs adorning both sides, a warm scarf strung around its neck, and buttons pushed into its midsection; a true gentleman of a snowman. Two stones gazed soullessly back into your own, and you shivered at the sight. Creepy. Tearing your eyes away, you sighed in relief as the familiar brick of your home met your gaze.

Settled on the outskirts of Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge, your home seemed tucked away from the bustling life of Denver. The house was old, with creaking floorboards and a sagging porch, but it was all yours. The brick was chipping in places, worn by weather, but the structure had never looked more inviting against the cold air. Practically leaping up the steps of the porch as you fished for your keys, you leaned against the front door to support your weight. The door creaked open, causing your hand to freeze within your pocket. You had always locked the door, especially during the recent boogeyman stories you had only heard in whispers. The Grabber. A fitting name, seeing as he stole boys out of their beds at night, only for them to completely dissipate into the air. Only having recently moved in last month, you took extra precautions with the news, trying to stifle any panic that would arise from living alone on the outskirts of the refuge. Pushing the door open fully, you stepped inside before shutting the door behind you quickly, grimacing as the wood slammed from the force.

Although in the comforting warmth of your home, a new chill seemed evident, weighing heavy with every step you took. Shedding your sopping coat, you kicked off your boots before padding against the wooden floorboards, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Heading towards the kitchen, you ripped the scarf from your body, winding it in your hands anxiously. “Hello? Is someone there…?” you called out, praying for silence. When your wish was granted, dread began to settle in your stomach, and you gnawed on your bottom lip from nerves. Had you locked the door? Did you forget in the bustle of trying to beat the storm on the way to work? Creeping into the kitchen, you sighed in relief when being met with nothing. Leaning against the counter, you finally let the scarf drop onto the , a laugh forcing its way of your lips due to your paranoia. You really needed to take some time off, the boogeyman clearly getting to your psyche from the long hours.

Taking a deep breath, it felt as if the house took a breath of relief with you as you finally relaxed your spine. Tugging open a cabinet, you grabbed a wine glass and decided to treat yourself before bed. After all, nothing helped cure the chill of winter than alcohol. Rummaging through the fridge, you pulled out a white blend, pouring it to the glass absentmindedly, wracking your brain for any movies that sounded interesting to unwind to. Leaving the bottle on the counter, you scooped up your glass and moved to make sure the door was locked before relaxing.

A cough ripped through the silence. You froze, the glass slipping through your fingers, shattering against the tiles of the floor, and a startled yelp clawed through your throat at the sound. Whipping your head to the source of the sound, your eyes landed in the living room. A dark figure sat on your couch, blending in with the shadows. Immediately, you rushed to the wall and flicked on the lights. The first thing you noticed were his eyes. Striking blue clashed with yours, seemingly tearing you open and reading your soul. Brown hair messily clung to his forehead, with sweat and grime covering his skin. Rough, hagged breaths seeped from the figure, and he hunched over his stomach, a hand clutching his side. Your frantic reaction didn’t seem to startle him at all, his steely gaze watching your every move. Your mouth opened, but you found yourself gargling on the words, nothing coming out. Sensing your shock, he shrugged slightly. “Sorry for the scare, hon. I’m sure you’re confused but–” he grimaced suddenly, removing his hand from his side, which was covered in crimson. “I–... I could really use some help.” He said plainly, as if he had known you his entire life and was casually talking about the blizzard raging outside.

There was a man in your living room. A man who needed help. Trying to still your breathing, you warily approached him, back hugging the wall as you neared the couch. “I… how did you get in here?” you squeaked, cursing yourself silently for not having a weapon on you. He could be anyone, anything, and his intentions could be far from innocent. Sensing your apprehension, he lifted both hands up, surrendering. “I was in the woods when I was charged by a bison. He only nicked me in the side, but as you can probably tell…” He gestured to your surroundings, chuckling slightly. “...There isn’t much around. I had to get shelter from the storm and hopefully get patched up. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He jested, a smirk adorning his face at your anxious state. You stared at his appearance blankly, trying to piece together his story. Bison were well known to the refuge area, but to have one charge… you grimaced at the thought. “I… stay here.” The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them, and you whirled around, rushing up the stairs to your bathroom.

Throwing open the door, you rummaged through the drawers, grabbing towels, a first aid kit, and anything else that seemed remotely useful. If you had any sense about you, you would have called the police at the sight of the strange man in your living room, but the threat of him bleeding out would have added even more problems to the predicament and you didn’t want to be deemed as a murderer after just moving in. Shuffling down the stairs, you almost sighed in relief when realizing he hadn’t moved. At least he listens… you thought, and your feet gravitated to the wounded man before you even had the chance to stop yourself. Looking up at you, the man grimaced again while keeping his hand on his side. “I… I can help, but you have to stay still.” You say, dropping the first aid kit to the empty cushion next to the man’s leg before unpacking any supplies that seemed useful. He nodded curtly, fingers gripping the edge of his shirt before pulling it over his head, discarding the clothing onto the wooden floor.

Your eyes widened at the sudden movement, heat flushing your cheeks at the sight of the now shirtless man sitting before you. A nasty gash sliced through his right side, moving from his sternum to below his pec, blood pooling from the wound. Your eyes lingered on the wound before traveling to the rest of the exposed skin. He was pale, lean, but very fit, with sinewy muscle adorning his frame. His bicep curled as he moved to put pressure on the wound, causing his stomach to tighten from the pain. Sweat trickled down the cavity of his chest to his belly button, where a dark brown happy trail slipped seductively down his hips and into the confines of his jeans. Your mouth gaped open again, unable to stop staring at the very mysterious, very attractive man spread out before you.

A chuckle tore you from your thoughts, and your eyes ripped to meet the icy blue eyes that bore into yours once again. He smirked at you, brow cocked at your obviously flustered state. “Sorry…” you gulped, and grabbed the towel on the couch, knuckles brushing against his upper thigh before you retreated into yourself. Turning, you rushed into the kitchen and drenched the towel under warm water, cheeks burning as you tried to shake the image from your head. Focus… there is a man injured and he needs your help. You chided yourself, ashamed at the heat that licked against your skin. Wringing the towel between your hands, you approached the living room again, trying to muster a brave face while racking your brain on how to clean a wound. Eyes never leaving your form, his smirk seemed to burn into your brain as you approached the man. It all felt so… lewd, the air having a tense atmosphere that seemed almost suffocating. You pushed the rag into the man’s hand, almost shaking as his fingers brushed against yours. “Hold this to the wound… I have to sanitize it.” You muttered, refusing to make eye contact as you grabbed a bottle of iodine.

“This will sting…” you warn, unscrewing the bottle cap. “Albert. My name is Albert.” He answered, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. “Albert… It’s nice to meet you, although I would have preferred to not have someone break into my house in the dead of winter.” You teased slightly, earning another chuckle from him. He shrugged slightly, muttering off another apology before wincing again. You grab another towel and drench it with iodine, the pungent smell invading your nostrils. You gag slightly from the chemical scent before scooting across the floor in between the man’s legs. Brushing off just how inappropriate the position was, you pushed yourself up onto your knees before pushing Albert’s hand away from the wound. Albert’s gaze seemed to burrow into your skull, but you braved onward. Pushing the rag onto the open wound, a hiss escaped the male. He flinched at the contact, and you had to fight the urge to watch him squirm beneath your touch.

“Fuck…” He seethes through gritted teeth, and you swallowed thickly at the noise. You dabbed at the wound, sanitizing it until his right side was coated in a deep orange. Grimacing at the sight, you moved to grab the tissue adhesive. “This will hurt, I have to glue the skin together.” You said, praying that watching medical dramas after work had any resemblance to reality. “You really know what you’re doing… should I be nervous?” He teased through gritted teeth, and you flushed. “...lots of television.” You muttered before cradling the wound on his side. He immediately tensed at your touch, and you felt the warmth from his skin seep into your hands. “Shit… you're freezing.” He bit out, and you stuttered out an apology. Squeezing the glue onto the wound, you worked quickly to close the wound, trying to ignore the feeling of iodine and blood coating your fingertips. Once the gash was glued, you grabbed gauze and packed the wound, ignoring the curses flying from the man’s mouth.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m almost done.” You said, before taping the final block of gauze on top of the wound. You marveled at your work, thankful that the wound wasn’t as deep as you initially thought. He sat up, inspecting your handiwork. “Not bad… I guess all that television really pulled off, right hon?” Your cheeks burned at the nickname. You grabbed three acetaminophen and dropped them into his open palm. “Here… I’ll grab you some water.” You moved to the kitchen to grab a glass, sidestepping the now ruined wine glass and puddle on the kitchen tiles. Now that the immediate crisis was out of the way, questions swirled in your head. Why your house? Why was he out in the refuge in the dead of night in winter? Who really was this man? Brushing off the thoughts, you filled up the glass before padding back into the living room. “Thank you…?” He looked expectantly. You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously. “Y/n.” You stated quickly, gaze dropping from his once more. “Y/n… I appreciate it.” He thanked again, smiling.

The lights flickered around the house suddenly, and your heart almost burst out of your chest. Glancing to the window, the flurry of snow continued its onslaught furiously, wind howling and battering against the old brick. No one in their right mind would travel now, especially injured. “I have to clean up my mess… are you hungry?” You queried, bending to pick up the broken glass. “That’s sweet of you, hon. I’m famished.” Heat rose to your cheeks again, and you cursed yourself for being so easily flustered by his words. Throwing the pieces into the trash, you dabbed at the spill before opening the fridge. A stray takeout container, some sauces, and more wine stared blankly at you within the barren container.

Groaning, you pushed open a cabinet, grabbing a can of soup. Comfortable silence enveloped you as you worked, and Albert decided to move to the kitchen and watch you cook. As the soup heated on the stove, you turned to meet the man’s gaze. It dawned on you that he was much taller than you expected, towering over you to the point where you craned your neck to maintain eye contact. “I hope chicken noodle is fine… I wasn’t expecting guests.” You joke slightly, grabbing two bowls from the cabinet before setting them on the counter. Albert shrugged, unphased by the intrusion of space. “So… a bison? You’re lucky you got away…” you said. It became apparent that you barely knew this man, and you couldn’t decipher if you found that intriguing or terrifying. He nodded, leaning against the fridge, fingers drumming against the metal. “Could have been worse… I was lucky enough to choose a house with a good samaritan.” He jested, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the statement.

Ladling the soup into the bowls, you sat at the small kitchen table, and Albert made himself comfortable across from you. Poking at the soup, small chat ensued between the two of you. You talked about being new to Denver, and not being used to the cold. You vented about work and the day-to-day tasks you did in your spare time. You learned that Albert worked at a hardware store, and had lived in Denver his whole life. He had a dog named Sampson and worked as a part time magician. As you talked, the picture of Albert became more personified, he was just a simple man who was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was nothing to worry about. “Storms like this don’t usually go on this long… it would have been hell to be caught out there.” He grumbled out, spooning another bite of soup into his mouth. You hummed in agreement.

The blizzard would only get worse throughout the night, and after hearing Albert had abandoned his car at the refuge, your heart clenched at the misfortune of the man. You decided that Albert could spend the night to ensure his wound would properly stay sanitized and dry and let the storm blow over. When he protested, you ignored him, shoving a pillow and quilt into his hands. “It’s decided.” You smiled, guiding him back to the couch. Throwing his bloodied shirt into the laundry, you stretched, joints popping as fatigue began to seep into your bones. “Goodnight Albert.” You called, heading upstairs into bed. Practically flopping onto your bedsheets, you rolled over to change and get ready for bed, the events of the day wearing you out. Finally situated in bed, you pulled the covers over your body, turning to look at the snow falling outside. Maybe being kind to strangers isn’t a bad thing after all.

—

There was a body in the woods.

Albert barely spared it a second thought, his luck finally running out from a clean kill. The little shit deserved what was coming to him– having the nerve to pull a knife on him. It didn’t make a difference in the end, however. Albert wasn’t thrilled to end the game that quickly on a whim. It was too easy that way. He always stuck to a motto: grab, hide, kill, repeat. Simple, quick, and always calculated. Trudging through the refuge in the pitch black while injured was not his forte, especially after having to abandon his jacket due to it being drenched in brain matter and blood. When he approached the residential neighborhood, he hadn’t planned to stay, just grab some medical supplies from a house and circle back to his van. Silent, predatory, deadly.

He never planned on running into you. Innocent, naive little you. He almost felt bad for startling you so badly. Almost. Something about the way that fear radiated off of you just made him want to reach out and grab you. He had half the mind to lunge at you and steal the life from your eyes, breaking you. But when the apprehensive nature you had immediately faded when you saw he was wounded, the pulling of your heartstrings to help was too good not to indulge in. You were so gentle, so kind in a way that made the darkest parts of him want to corrupt you. The most thrilling part of his… habits was the ability to completely and utterly destroy something, then pick up the pieces and mold them into whatever his fucked up desires had in mind. You were no different. You seemed so compliant, such a good girl who is too kind for her own good. You saw the best in everyone, and it made the monster within him want to take that kindness and twist it until it shattered. It was your achilles heel, and no amount of good intentions would be able to keep him away from you.

Still high from the adrenaline rush of his most recent kill, the darkness called from the most depraved parts of his mind. He wanted you. He wanted to grab you and mold you into the perfect little toy for him to ruin. It would be so easy to creep into your room and ravage you beyond repair, but Albert was a patient man. He wanted to gain your trust, make you feel safe around him, before dragging you down to the depths of hell with him. Sweet unsuspecting you and your naive way of trusting strangers. Didn’t your mother tell you not to trust others, especially if one of them was a big, bad killer? Now that his basement was empty, he had plenty of time to prepare for the perfect time to take you. He wondered if the betrayal in your eyes would be just as delectable as your fear, it made his fingers itch to see just how far he could push you. He was always easily fascinated, especially when you were just so trusting. It was laughable really. Poor girl, your fate was sealed the second he walked into that house.

Maybe his luck didn’t run out, it must have been fate to choose the house with such a perfect, malleable toy waiting for the taking. You didn’t even realize it, did you? Taking care of such an evil man, yet being so trusting to let him sleep in your home. So trusting… so vulnerable, he had to teach you a lesson not to trust strangers. You thought you could fix him, patch him up and send him on his way, but what you didn’t seem to realize was that Albert didn’t want to be fixed. He didn’t want to do anything other than completely destroy you, ruin you for anyone else other than him. He was never good at taking care of his toys, but the thrill of pushing you until you snapped seemed like a worthwhile challenge. The thought alone had his heart racing. You were his, his to love, his to ruin, you just didn’t know it yet. How cute, almost adorable even. You took him in like a stray, and now Albert will make it his goal to never let you go.

The thing about strays? They always come back.

—

A knock on the door jolted you out of your cooking, causing you to bang your head on the open cabinet door. Hissing at the sensation, you rubbed your head before shouting, “The door is unlocked!” The door creaked open, and you glanced at a snow-covered Albert shedding his extra layers, kicking his boots off while cursing the howling wind. You rolled your eyes at the sight, turning back to the bolognese sauce simmering on the stovetop. Albert hung up his drenched coat before waltzing into the kitchen, making himself comfortable at one of the stools situated by the kitchen table in order to watch you cook.

It had been two weeks since he had nearly given you a heart attack, and after your consistent begging, he finally went to the hospital to get his wound checked out. It turned out that your medical television obsession had pulled off, with him only needing fresh dressings and a prescription of low grade pain medication before he was discharged. Albert had begun to see you consistently, bringing takeout or random trinkets he thought you would enjoy. “It’s a gift… I promise, hon.” He would always muse at your attempts to pay him back for his endeavors. It turns out, Albert lived only a 10 minute drive from your house, and most nights he was more keen on crashing on your couch versus making the effort to go to his home. You didn’t mind however, feeling more safe with your new friend nearby.

Another two boys had gone missing, the news flashing across the screen upon his most recent stay. A gasp of horror had escaped you as the anchor reported the details of two boys, one 13 and the other 16 seemingly disappearing into the night. Vanished, as the anchor said. You screwed your eyes shut at the thought. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how their families must be feeling, losing their children to a monster in the middle of their night, stolen out of their beds. “He’s like the boogeyman– The Grabber.” You had said, and Albert’s expression had darkened at the television screen. “The only difference, sweetheart, is that The Grabber is very much real.” The words haunted you throughout the night, causing you to toss and turn with paranoia. Albert seemed very… detached about the situation, so you decided to not bring it up again, his lack of emotion towards depicting The Grabber as a very scary, very real person that could be anyone made unease seep into your bones.

“Everything okay?” The sound of his voice brought you out of your thoughts, and he cocked a brow at you out of amusement. Looking down, you realized you were gripping the wooden spatula, knuckles deathly white from the pressure. You chuckled awkwardly, releasing spatula from your grasp and turning off the stove. “Yeah… sorry, work has been tense.” Stretching against the counter, you felt his gaze burn into your frame. That’s the one thing that unnerved you about the older man, he was very… observant. Always seeming to know what you were thinking before the words fell from your mouth, always watching your every move. Maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was just a habit, but either way, something about those eyes drew you in. His gaze held a type of darkness, like someone who had seen too much and the depths latched onto them.

“Tense? That’s no way to spend the holidays… you should take a break. I make a mean eggnog, if you think that would help you relax.” He mused, and you scrunch your face at the mention of the sweet beverage. “I’m sure you do… of course you drink eggnog. I find it disgusting.” You shudder, moving to serve two helpings of bolognese pasta. Glancing at the calendar, your eyes widened at the date. December 24th. “It’s Christmas Eve…” You muttered. “You think I just came to visit out of the goodness of my heart? Sweetheart, with a schedule as busy as yours, I would be surprised if you remembered New Years.” Albert teased, taking his plate from your grasp, your knuckles brushing his fingertips. You flushed slightly at the comment.

Albert always had a sense of charm around him that never failed to fluster you. His endearing smile, flirtatious nicknames, and tokens of appreciation made your heart skip a beat at his affections. You found yourself trusting him over the past few weeks, excited for his presence in your otherwise empty house and the attention he gave you. It felt like a fresh breath of air, being looked after when your long shifts finished for the day and you were stuck in the solace of your home. He knew how you reacted around him, almost enticing him to push your buttons and turn you into a stuttering mess. It was infuriating, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“That is not true. I remembered Christmas, I just didn’t realize Christmas Eve was today.” You chided, earning a chuckle from across the table. Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you continued to pick at your pasta, glancing at the calendar once more. “Actually… I have something for you, Albert.” You said, standing quickly before rummaging through the cupboard before your hands settle on a wrapped package, the paper crinkling under your fingertips. Albert’s spine straightens at the table, his food abandoned due to his curiosity. Shyly, you approached the seated male and set the present on the table. Albert’s long fingers reached for the gift tenderly, eyeing you with suspicion. “You didn’t have to get me anything, hon. I don’t have anything for you.”

Yet. He didn't have anything for you, yet.

You shrugged. “It’s not much, but I had some time over these past few weeks and…” You swallowed thickly. “- I thought you could use it.” He smirks at that, and your cheeks burn. Gently unwrapping the gift, Albert lifts a blood red scarf from the package. Holding the soft material in his hands, he looks at you, expression unreadable. Fingers dancing along the blood red fabric, his eyes darken. A knot wedged into your chest, worried you had been too personal. “I know you lost your coat… and I thought you could use all the help you could get in this cold. If you don’t like it, I can-” “You made this?” His words sharply cut you off, still unreadable. His fingers tangled in the material, and his jaw clenched, his blue eyes drilling holes into your skull. Anxious you had overstepped, you chewed on the inside of your cheek, eyes downcast. “Yeah… I had some extra wool and thought you would like it.” He holds the scarf up, wrapping it around his neck quickly, snapping out of the daze that you had put him in.

Eyes meeting yours, the blue clashed so starkly against the bold red of the wool that your breath caught in your throat. Finally, he spoke, warmth seeping into his words. “It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you, hon… you just made my Christmas.” He teased, unraveling the scarf from his neck and tenderly folding it in his lap. You laughed bashfully, flustered at the praise. “It’s just a scarf, Albert.” You paused, then muttered: “Red suits you.” Albert chuckled, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips. “Yes, hon, yes it does.”

—

A scarf. How oxymoronic, how perfect.

You were too sweet for your own good. You had given him a gift out of the goodness of your heart, yet it wasn’t the warm fabric that kept him warm on the chilling journey to his basement, it was you. You couldn’t have possibly imagined what this gift meant… or did you? The scarf was a promise, a vow to show your affection directly devoted to him. Your hands tirelessly worked at the fabric that was now slung across his neck, and if he wrapped himself tight enough within it, it would be as if you were caressing his skin yourself. So intimate, the thought made his heart race. With one simple gift, you had binded yourself to him, and he couldn’t help but imagine how good the scarf would look like on you.

So sweet, so kind. He was certain that he had cracked his jaw from the force when you gave it to him. It took every ounce of strength to not grab you from across that table and hide you away for only him to see. He wanted all of it; your kindness, your dreams, your happiness, your life. It was his now, and only his. “It’s just a scarf, Albert.” Your words circled in his head, a constant reminder of how much, it was not in fact, just a scarf. You made it for him, only him, as a testament to your adorations. How could he not want to return the favor? You wanted his attention, you spent your precious little time trying to show him how much you cared, and he saw it; he always did. He understood the meaning completely, even if you were too stubborn to admit it. You naive pure little thing, your fate was already sealed when he first saw you, but now? You were undoubtedly his, even if you didn’t know it yet. The scarf symbolized a bond, a bond you forged, and he was more than happy to comply. You wanted him, so he will show you what that really meant.

The darkness within him screamed to respond to your devotion, to tear down the rest of the world and watch it burn if it meant he would be able to repay the love that you bestowed upon him. All he needed to do was reply, reciprocate. For that, he needed a plan. A plan to show you just how much this confession meant to him– how much you meant to him, and he knew the perfect gift to give to you. All of him. He would show you his worst, most twisted self, and bind you to him in ways that only he knew how to do.

“Red suits you.” You had no fucking idea. He couldn’t wait to see how much it suits you too. He was sure it was going to look sinful. His hands balled into fists, giddiness coursing through his veins. He knew the basement was a vile place, a place where many have been subjected to his mercy, but with you… he had so much more in store for you. Sweet, innocent, angel, you really were about to give the man the best Christmas gift. And he was going to savor every last moment of it. Glancing at his handiwork, he finalized his preparations, a sinister smile breaking across his lips. “Merry fucking Christmas, hon.” Now all he had to do was wait.

—

I’ll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me.

Please have snow, and mistletoe,

And presents on the tree~

You hummed slightly at the song playing from the television, scrubbing the tiled countertop hastily. Dinner with Albert went smoothly, yet something about that scarf sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes looked so… cold, with an intensity that sent your head reeling. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable by overstepping, so once he left you immediately baked some sugar cookies as an apology gift. Working in the kitchen with Christmas music playing softly in the background felt inviting, reminding you of fond memories with your family in the past. Sighing softly, you poked at the sugarcookies to ensure they were cooled before slathering them in red and green frosting.

You were always the type of person to give people gifts as a token of appreciation, but sometimes that made others uncomfortable due to the intense giving nature you had. Although it was a fair response, your throat burned with rejection at Albert’s strange reaction of the gift. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you coated the last cookie in a glob of green before throwing the frosting container in the trash. Letting the cookies sit, you stretched, joints groaning in protest from standing in front of the oven for hours. Untying the dirtied apron from behind, you padded into the hallway, throwing the soiled clothing into the washer. Yawning tiredly, you stumbled up the stairs into your bedroom, grabbing a pair of pajamas and stripping out of your clothes. Your skin immediately prickled, hairs raising on the back of your neck.

You were being watched.

You glanced around, seeing nothing. Scoffing at your paranoia, you continued to change before throwing your old clothes into the hamper, making your way into the bathroom. You needed to sleep, stat. Standing in front of the sink, you laughed at a smudge of green frosting covering your temple. Rolling your eyes at your clumsiness, you reached for the toothbrush, coating it in minty paste before harassing your gums. Spitting in the sink, a shuffle downstairs caught your attention. Worried one of the baking trays toppled, sending your desserts face first onto the tile below, you quickly rinsed your toothbrush and padded down the stairs.

Scurrying into the kitchen, you sighed in relief at the undisturbed baking sheets, turning to grab a container. Shuffling throughout the kitchen, your gaze landed on a red pen and small sticky note. “This will do…” you mumbled out, trying to figure out what to write. Hey Albert, sorry for being weird and giving you a heartfelt gift? No, too forward. Biting on the tip of the pen anxiously, you opted for a simple message that conveyed your feelings. “Dear… Albert….” You mouthed as you wrote, “-thank you for having dinner with me. I hope you liked your gift,” you paused. Humming slightly, you ripped the sticky note from the stack and tossed it to the counter. “To Albert. Merry Christmas.” Simple and straight to the point.

Placing the sticky note on top of a container, you turned to load up the cookies into the tray, stuffing as many as possible into the circular container. Eyes sweeping over the red and green desserts, your gaze faltered as it reached the furthest pan. A singular cookie was half eaten, the gingerbread man-shape missing its head and arm. Eyes narrowing, you apprehensively approached the cookie as if it would jump back out at you. Picking it up, your brow furrowed, confusion sweeping your features. Did you happen to snack on it while frosting?

The soft sound of guitar quickly pulled you from your thoughts, causing the half-eaten sugar cookie to fall absentmindedly to the counter. Peaking your head around the corner, the television stared menacingly back at you, Bing Crosby’s I’ll Be Home For Christmas playing at full volume. Heart stuttering, you approached the television. “That’s weird… I thought I just played this song…”

I’ll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me.

Please have snow, and mistletoe,

And presents on the tre-

A grunt sounded out from behind you in the kitchen, and you whirled around, panic seeping into your features. Your eyes widened, a shriek tearing through your throat as your gaze met with a mask, its soulless eyes burrowing into your soul. A grin adorned its features, while horns protruded from the forehead of the mask. The white material was splattered with red, and you prayed it was anything other than blood. The figure towered over you, dwarfing your kitchen counter, another sugar cookie in hand. You felt like a deer trapped in headlights, completely frozen in place, eyes raking over the figure in front of you while your lip quivered with fear.

Christmas Eve’ll find me, where the love light gleams~

“These are divine, doll. So good, I could reach out and grab them.” The masked figure mused darkly, voice dripping with hostility. Your breathing quickened, and you immediately took a step backward. It’s him, your personal boogeyman. The Grabber. Tears immediately fell at that thought, dripping down your cheeks and plummeting to the wooden floor. A sob wracks your throat. This isn’t happening, this can’t be real. Yet the taunting chuckle that erupts from the monster in front of you was very much real. The hulking figure takes a step forward, and you flinch at the movement, another sob wracking through your body.

I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.

“Cat got your tongue? You’re shaking, you poor thing.” The voice drawls, and the familiarity of it all haunts you. The mask cocks to the side, and the light catches his eyes. Icy blue meets yours, and you swear your heart stops. Your lip trembles, and you want to scream for being so stupid, so trusting. Denver’s uncaught killer, your personal boogeyman, was Albert. The same man you nursed back to health, who had been in your house countless times before, who stood before you in that god forsaken mask now. Your knees almost buckled from the realization, causing another bone chilling chuckle to pierce the air.

Albert reached into his back pocket, producing a string of blood red. Your eyes narrowed and the sight of the scarf wound perfectly in the hands of the killer before you. “This lovely gift had me thinking…” He took a few more brisk steps towards you, closing the distance between the two of you, cold and calculating. “- it’s only fair if I give you a gift too.” His words echo in your mind, and you refused to acknowledge him. A hand shoots out, grabbing you by the throat. You scream, broken out of your frozen stupor, clawing at his hand. He drags you forward, the nose of his mask brushing against your skin.

The smell of dried blood invades your senses, and you fight the urge to retch. He smells like death… rather he was death, holding your life in his hand as his fingers dug into your skin. His eyes burned holes into your skull, and you sputtered for air beneath his touch. You could practically feel the smirk that he was sporting under the mask at the vulnerable state you were in. Tears welled in your eyes, skin burning at the lack of oxygen. “Tell me, does your fear taste as good as it looks?” He murmured darkly, black spots beginning to coat your vision. Your hands gripped at his arm, the pressure on your trachea making your eyes roll back.

His grip released suddenly, and you fell to your knees, clawing at the wood while greedily drinking in gasps of air. He glared down at you, seemingly satisfied with the view of you sprawled beneath him. Grabbing your wrists, he heaves you up, and you hate how easily you move. Holding your wrists in one hand, he moves the scarf closer, causing something in you to snap. Screaming, you pull back as hard as you could, kicking and crying for this to all just be a bad dream. Yanking you forward by your wrists, Albert… no, The Grabber, weaves the scarf around your wrists briskly, pulling them so tight you hiss at the sensation.

“This scarf binds us.” He seethes, yanking you closer by the tail of the scarf, causing you to stumble into his chest. He catches you effortlessly, one hand cradling the back of your head, fingers digging into your scalp, the other pulling the scarf tight. You never thought how your endearing gift would be turned against you, your wrists raw from rubbing against the material. A choked sob escapes you, and you can do nothing but stare in the icy depths of his eyes, swallowing you whole. “You think I wouldn’t notice?” His tone softens slightly, cocking his head slightly, the breath peeking through the mask and fanning your ear. “You gave me a part of yourself, so I’ll show you what it means to belong to someone.”

If you weren’t terrified, you would scoff at the words. Sensing your defiance, he pulls you by your hair to your feet. You whimper, scalp burning under his harsh touch. “Why are you doing this?” You bite out, stumbling as he drags you into the kitchen. He chooses to ignore your venomous words, instead glancing back to you, eyes sweeping over your form. “I can’t wait to see you like that,” tugging on the material again. His voice hardens, “-wrapped up, bound to me. All mine.” The finality of his words sent a wave of terror down your spine, as if your fate was sealed forever. He rummages in his back pocket, the grip on the scarf loosening as he pulls a white cloth into your field of vision.

Freedom. This was your chance. For a split second, you froze before adrenaline pushed your limbs into motion. You turn to flee, wrists bound tightly in front of you, scrambling backwards across the kitchen tile, almost tripping over your feet. Time slowed. You can feel the wrath radiating off of him in waves. You refuse to turn to look, crashing into the kitchen wall, jolting sideways at the impact. Steadying your feet, your legs pump vigorously at the prospect of escape. You almost tumble over the steps leading upstairs, opting to head for the door, your only hope. The thought of freezing to death in the cold was better than what was in store for you. The silhouette of the door reaches your gaze, your savior, and you bolt towards it without a second thought.

A sharp pain stabs into your skull. White explodes along your vision, the world spinning as you crumble to the ground. The cool wood bites into your skin as warmth pools from your temple, dripping across your face and onto the floor beneath you. The taste of copper fills your mouth, ears ringing from the impact. Darkness licks at your vision, and you turn to see The Grabber standing over you, a sauce pan in his hand. Triumphant, his haunting smile glares down at you, head cocked and poised to strike.

Everything goes black.

—

A slow, rough throbbing pulls you from the darkness. It hurts to open your eyes, your pulse hammering into every crevice of your skull, causing the world to shift across your vision. You blink; once, twice, the swirls of grey and shadows gradually coming into focus with every attempt. Finally, the world seems to fall into place, your left eye burning from the crimson dripping from the cut above your temple. The faint hum of a singular fluorescent lightbulb buzzes from the ceiling, casting an eerie glow across the cramped room. The room was mostly bare, with a singular chair sitting across from the ragged mattress you were laid upon. The air was thick with the smell of mold alongside the faint scent of blood. You didn’t want to know if it was yours or not. A singular sliver of window adorned the top of one of the bare walls, the pitch black of night staring tauntingly at you through the thick glass. Squinting, you could barely make out the soft fall of snow against the dark sky, globs of white sticking to the glass momentarily before melting away, abandoning you. You were in a basement, his basement.

Your blood turned to ice, pushing your body into action. You tried to sit up, body groaning in the process before you are ripped back down onto the bed. Your right arm hangs above you, taunt against the wall, secured in a chain. A sob wracks your throat as you tug on the metal, the clattering deafening against the silence of the room. A swish of fabric stops you in your tracks, and you look down at your chest, where the blood red scarf is tied into a perfect bow over your pajamas. You pale.

To him, the scarf was never the gift, you were.

“Finally awake, hmm?” His voice cuts through the air like a knife. You jolted, turning towards the menacing figure in the doorway. His mask was abandoned, leaving you to gape at your capture. Albert’s soulless eyes burned into yours, and you wondered if he was there the whole time, watching you. Stepping into the room, the door slammed shut, the noise jarring you slightly due to the force. “You scared me for a moment there, doll...” He sighed out, crossing his arms and leaning against the closed door, eyes never leaving yours. “-I was nervous I hit you too hard,” He gestured to your head, and instinctively you put a hand to the prickled skin. Your hand pulled back red. “-ouch.” He taunted, chiding you for your attempt of escape. As if you would ever get away from him. “It would have been such a shame to ruin our plans before they even began.” He mused darkly, and you fought the urge to gag.

“What… what do you want with me?” You force the words out, voice hoarse, throat raw from crying. He cocked his head amusingly, striding forward to close the space between you. He crouched over the mattress, towering over you. “What do I want with you?” He echoed, fingers ghosting over your cheek, brushing away a stray tear. He smudged the liquid between his fingers, looking at it while contemplating. “You gave me a piece of yourself…” He mused, hand gripping the edge of the scarf tied around your chest, playing with the material endearingly. “-now I’m going to give you a gift. Something only I can give.” The scarf dropped to your chest, his head snapping to meet your gaze once more. Your breath caught in your throat.

“So scared… It's adorable. Your fear is addicting. It makes me want to reach out and bite you.” His calloused hand grips your chin roughly, forcing your face to move closer to his. His breath fanned across your face, a warmth that you savored against the frigid air. His fingers trailed over the bow again, gentle. “Look at you…” He breathed out, voice hoarse with restraint. “-like a gift, the perfect toy. There’s so many ways I could ruin you.” A sob rips out of you at that, and it only amuses him even more. Tugging at the bow, he undid the fabric as if unwrapping a present, the undone material loosely falling to the mattress. Tracing your jaw, he cocked his head. “Tell me, after we first met, did you trust me?”

You did. He knew you did. You trusted him completely, your caring nature not only nursing him back to help, but igniting a spark within you. You found yourself pining for the man, his attractive features and those eyes bringing a sense of warmth around you when he flattered you. He knew that too, and used it to push all the right buttons to make you fall apart like putty in his hands. It wasn’t hard for him to break down your walls, he was just so charming. So rough in all the ways that you were soft, and it made your heart melt. But that warmth turned to ice as his fingers brushed against your bottom lip.

“Well?” He quipped, and your head nodded immediately. He smirked at the action, your compliant nature getting the better of you. “So obedient, so sweet. You understand why I had to take you, right? You’re just such a good girl.” Your cheeks burned at the words, ashamed at how easy it was for him to stir the warmth within you from something as simple as his words. He sucked in a breath, fingers trailing down the column of your neck, causing goosebumps to prickle at the sensation. You shuddered at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut. It was so wrong, so incredibly skewed in a way that made you question your sanity, but his touch… it left you breathless.

His fingers brushed the collar of your pajama shirt, fiddling with the fabric like a nervous schoolboy, giddy with nerves. You sucked in a breath. “So pretty… so soft. All dressed up for me, how sweet.” He mused, hands trailing down the expanse of your chest, brushing against the buttons holding the shirt together. His nose brushed against your neck, and your eyes snapped open. Trailing upwards, you shuddered as he neared closer, breathing in against your skin. A low moan tore from his throat, and your chest tightened at the noise. Glancing at you through half lidded eyes, Albert’s gaze was heavy. His stare was suffocating, devouring every reaction you gave him, as if committing it to memory. He looked at you as if he was starving, and you were everything he could have ever wanted, the intensity of his gaze causing a broken whimper to snake from your throat.

That whimper sealed your fate. His lips were on yours in an instant, his resolve shattered. His lips were rough, moving fast against yours as he pressed so hard against you felt you would crumble beneath his touch. His hand delved into your hair, blunt fingernails scraping against your scalp and pushing you further into the kiss. He hungrily sucked on your bottom lip, tasting the copper that lingered in your mouth, groaning at the taste. Warmth radiated from his touch, and you pushed closer to relish the feeling, melting into his embrace. You were falling from reality, the morals slipping from you as he held you close, stubble raking across your chin. The smell of smoke, sweat, and blood invaded your senses in a way that left your head reeling, and the chain rattled as you gripped his shoulders as if he was a lifeline.

Albert shuddered at the feeling of your fingers digging into his clothed skin, teeth sinking into your bottom lip so hard it drew blood. You gasped at the pain, the metallic liquid seeping into your mouth. Albert persisted, pupils blown from the taste, tongue lapping up the liquid feverishly before deepening the kiss, pushing into your mouth. His tongue was rough, invading your mouth so quickly that you felt like you were choking. Tangling his tongue against yours, your saliva quickly mixed with his as he explored your mouth, pressing so hard against you that your skull buzzed. He moaned into your mouth, the vibrations leaving you breathless. Shocked into place, Albert persisted, sucking on your tongue while pulling you even closer. You choked down another whimper, his musk invading your senses in a way that made your head spin.

He was so warm. Skin pressed so hard against you it felt as if you were melting against him, burning like a furnace. His lips tore away from yours, a mixture of saliva and blood connecting the two of you. Your breaths came out in ragged huffs, lips swollen and sore from the onslaught of teeth and tongue. Albert’s gaze darkened, eyes taking over your disheveled form, soaking in the sight. His hand retreated from your scalp, skin tingling dully. His hands gripped your shoulders, mirroring your movements as he pushed you down into the mattress. You fell willingly, sinking into the fabric while trying to catch your breath, head reeling.

Albert was on top of you immediately, arms caging you in as he knelt over your form. Ducking into your neck, his lips feverishly left open mouthed kisses along the column of your neck, and you squirmed at the feeling of his tongue against your skin. Your skin burned as if you were on fire, shame pooling in your stomach from how good it felt. His stubble scraped against your sensitive skin as he searched for more ways to make you writhe against him, teeth sinking into your skin with a bruising force that left you gasping for air. Sucking on the tender spot, his fingers ghosted along your skin, mapping your curves. It felt as if he was devouring your skin, biting and sucking your soul from your body.

He was marking you, leaving blots of red and purple along your skin so dark that nothing would cover the sin he was painting onto you. You would have been lying if you hadn’t thought about Albert during late nights alone in bed, but the reality of it all was all the more addicting. Your eyes rolled as his lips trailed the junction of your neck, chin grazing your collarbone. Spit coated your skin as Albert practically drooled on you, making his way across any exposed piece that was deemed to be untouched by his ruinous intent. “You taste divine…” He muttered into your skin, barely audible as his lips rubbed against a fresh bruise. He peered up at you, eyes almost black from pleasure, and you sucked in a breath at the sight, shrinking under his gaze.

His fingers toyed with your top button, and your heart stopped within your chest. Before you could protest, his hands ripped at your shirt, the plastic buttons popping from the force, rolling across the cement floor of the basement. Your skin prickled at the cold, gooseflesh as the frigid air coated your damp skin. Practically tearing away the shredded fabric, your chest was left bare to his hungry gaze, and you fought the urge to cover yourself from the icy eyes dragging across your skin. Terrified of his wrath, you stayed still, trying to slow your breathing as his fingers immediately made their way to your exposed flesh, desperate for contact. His hand made contact with your breasts, palming the skin lazily, causing you to squirm beneath his touch. “Oh don’t get shy now…” He growled, a dull pain stabbing into your chest as he pinched your nipples roughly, rolling the sensitive flesh under his fingers. You yelped at the sensation, squirming, trying to cower away from the harsh grip. “-we have so much to do.” he finished, releasing your abused flesh from his hands.

Gripping the mounds more tenderly, he squeezed them teasingly, thumbs ghosting your nipples again, causing your spine to straighten. He chuckled at your reaction, head dipping into the valley of your breasts, rubbing against your skin. Your brain short-circuits as his tongue licks at the skin of your sternum, warm and wet. His saliva coated your flesh, teeth nipping as he moved, fingertips trailing down your sides. You shuddered at the touch of his fingers ghosting over your ribcage, nails sinking into his shoulders so hard you were certain you drew blood. Albert stiffened, straightening against you so quickly your arms dropped to your sides abruptly.

Rolling his shoulders, he tilted his head, looking down at you with such a dark gaze it was deadly. You swallowed thickly, lip quivering as you shrank further against the mattress, fear stabbing into your chest. His fingers hooked onto the black button-up he was wearing, lazily undoing his buttons, eyes never leaving yours. If your heart wasn’t in your throat, you would have called his movements seductive. His calloused fingers traced his shirt while his pale skin became more exposed as he went lower, lower. The black material fell haphazardly off his shoulders, the shirt balled up and thrown into a forgotten corner of the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress the whimper building in your throat at the sight, all too similar to that godforsaken night you met him. He was just so attractive, too much so for your own good. The rest of the world seemed to melt away as your eyes trailed the exposed flesh in front of you, watching him roll his shoulders again. Albert clenched his fists, arms flexing as he leaned closer, nose brushing against yours. “It’s adorable, watching you struggle like this. So intent on hating me while fighting the truth. You want me.” He muses, grabbing your hand and laying it flat against his chest. Your lip quivers at the action, the heat of his skin seeping into yours as you fought the itch to explore. His heart hammered against your palm, and a small voice inside of you relished in the fact that it was beating for you. You clenched your jaw shut at the thought. It was wrong, so wrong, but you couldn’t stop your head from reeling at the sight of him in front of you so intimately.

Crawling over you, Albert easily caught your wrists within his hand, taking advantage of the war waging within your head. Immediately, you squirmed beneath his grasp, confusion wracking your form. Everything was moving so fast, too hard to process. Your heart felt like it was hammering out of your chest, about to burst at any second. Albert knew that though, he always knew, and he was going to use it against you. Pulling the discarded scarf from the mattress beneath you, he knotted the material against your wrists once more, aligning your limbs to the chain that was bolted into the wall above your head. You hissed at the contact of the material against your raw wrists, itching to rip it off and burn it. You tugged on the scarf, but your efforts were all in vain, doing nothing but irritating your abused flesh even more.

Albert clicked his tongue, admiring his work before tugging the tail of the scarf closer to him, mirroring his previous actions at the house. “So squirmy…” He teased, his other hand slipping down your naval, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to prickle. He toyed with the drawstring of your shorts, and your eyes widened. “W-wait… I don’t-” You babbled onwards, praying, pleading that the train moving a million miles a second would halt. Albert, however, was less easily convinced, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, brushing your hip bone. “-I… I haven’t done this before.” You begged, sinking your back further into the mattress to try and get space from the very eager hand toying at your clothes. Albert paused, fingers hooked on the waistband of the shorts, eyes dilated.

“Poor girl… so innocent.” He growled, fingers digging into the waistband while his other hand pulled the scarf impossibly tight. You whimpered at the sensation, pain stabbing into your wrists. “Don’t worry… I’ll break you in nice and rough.” He finished, yanking the shorts down your thighs in one swift motion. Immediately, you snapped your legs shut, hips locking into place as you cowered, watching as your shorts were discarded at the edge of the bed, dangerously far from reach. Guilt gnawed at your stomach as you felt the slick between your thighs, mentally cursing your body for being so traitorous. Completely bare beneath Alberts prying gaze, you flushed, trying to ignore the warmth that blossomed within your stomach.

Albert dropped the scarf that connected your wrists, opting to grip your hip instead, his nails digging into your flesh so hard you were sure there would be bruises in the morning. His fingers ghosted over the exposed flesh of your thighs, trailing inwards so slowly it caused a shudder to rip through your body. He chuckled at your response to his touch, braving onwards, pushing forward. Your toes curled in anticipation, whether from terror or excitement you couldn’t decipher. Wedging his hand in between your thighs, his index finger scraped against your unclothed center, and you squeezed your eyes shut. He hummed slightly, satisfied at the slick that gathered between your legs, and you swallowed thickly, shame rippling off of you in waves.

“So compliant. I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked for me… such a good girl.” Albert praised, teasing your folds. Your eyes fluttered as he eased in a finger, the length scraping along your gummy walls. You tensed at the foreign feeling, naval tightening as he stretched you out, testing the waters. Brows furrowed, you sucked on your bottom lip for comfort, trying to clear the battle of morals within your mind. It felt… good, Albert’s long finger reaching further than you ever could have on lonely nights, the stretch within causing that oh so sweet bundle of nerves to stir to life. Pleased with your warmth, Albert sunk another finger inside of you, and you gritted your teeth at the slight sting. Working his way into you, Albert’s fingers curled within you, searching for ways to make you more reactive. The pads of his long digits hit that hidden spot within you, and you writhed against the scarf, tugging at the material sharply. A whimper slipped, your facade quickly fading as his fingers continued to sink into you, prepping you.

Albert sighed at your noises, eager to draw more out of you, fingers picking up their pace. His free hand left your hip, and he palmed himself lazily over his slacks, growing impatient. This was for him after all, not you. Slipping in a third finger, you felt like you were being split open at the intrusion, glancing down at him knuckle deep inside of you. Your arousal was evident, slick coating his hand and dripping down your thighs, and you flushed at the squelch that emitted when he withdrew his fingers from your core. You wanted to slap yourself when your hips jerked to meet his fingers, body betraying you as you subconsciously chased that high. Albert’s thumb brushed against your clit, and you almost jumped out of your skin, a gurgling moan ripping through your throat at the contact.

Albert’s lips twisted into a wolvish grin at that, thumb continuing to draw circles on the bundle of nerves as he pumped his fingers within you until you were a breathless, blubbering mess. You felt like a furnace, skin hot to the touch as you writhed beneath the male’s sensual strokes, jerking at the rough touches to your clit. Obscene noises slipped from you, facade completely cracking as he scissored his fingers, stretching you so far you felt you would tear in two. Practically gurgling, you clawed at the scarf, hips rolling into his touches as you abandoned all hope of shame or guilt. The feeling was addicting, your inexperienced body reacting in ways you never thought possible. “Shit… you’re sucking me in, doll… so needy.” He teased, thumb pressing against your clit so sinfully your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Your stomach tightened, pressure building within you as Albert fucked you with his fingers. Your core tightened as you throbbed around him, practically milking his fingers. So close… you were so close. Albert’s fingers brushed against that spongy spot again, and you almost tipped over the edge, a broken moan tearing through your throat. Then it was gone. Albert’s fingers withdrew from you so quickly it hurt. You clenched around nothing, tears lining your vision as you felt the emptiness overtake you. Nails digging into your palms so hard you were sure you left marks, you writhed against the mattress, gritting your teeth at the denial of pleasure.

Albert chuckled darkly at your suffering, and you wanted to scream. “Look at you... practically begging me for it.” He brought his fingers to his mouth, drenched in your juices. Albert’s tongue ran over his fingers, slurping your slick off his digits, groaning at the taste. Humming in approval, he smirked down at your form, tongue running over his bottom lip. You flushed at the action, embarrassed at the way your stomach flipped at the sight. Screwing your eyes shut, you tried to shake the image burned into your eyes, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. The jangling of a belt buckle ripped you from your embarrassment, and you cracked your eyes just enough to see Albert rip his belt from his belt loops, the item of clothing clattering noisily as it skidded across the cement floor.

Albert quickly unbuttoned his slacks, the black fabric straining against his form. Glancing downwards, your eyes almost bulged out of your skull at the tent sported in his pants, looking dangerous. You paled, reality setting in as Albert tugged his fly down, hissing at the cold air. Impatiently, he shoved his slacks down, and god you were not prepped enough for that. In the dim lighting, Albert’s cock stood proudly, straining against his abdomen. Ridged veins crawled along his length, trailing upwards seductively until they reached his head, red and angry and very hard. Precum leaked from his tip, and your mouth instantly watered at the sight.

Wasting no time, Albert’s hand lazily stroked his length, running his thumb along his slit, gathering the precum that settled there. He squeezed his cock, a hiss escaping his form, and you swallowed thickly at the noise. His hips stuttered forward, and Albert pushed in between your legs, causing you to nestle around him. Your lip quivered as his head brushed against your slit, gathering your slick. “This is going to hurt…” Albert cooed sadistically, hand gripping your jaw roughly while his other continued to align himself against you. You sucked in a breath, trying to steel yourself against his harsh words. With that, Albert thrusted forward, plunging inside of you. White hot pain exploded within you, and you felt as if you were being torn apart. A sob tore through your throat, tears filling your eyes at the painful stretch.

Unphased by the intrusion, Albert continued, pushing so deep you were sure you were dying, his hips flush against yours, moving immediately with no room to adjust. Groaning, his grip on your jaw tightened so hard you felt as if you were going to snap. “Fuck… you’re so tight. Just like a bitch in heat.” He murmured, bottoming out before jutting forward again, causing a gargled yelp to escape you. It was too much, you were too full, feeling as if you were bursting at the seams and filled to the brim with nothing except him. He was ruining you, practically tearing you apart and stuffing you so full there would be nothing left. His hips rolled again, cock dragging against your sore folds so roughly you were sure you were stretched to the brink.

Albert moved at a bruising force, fucking into you so roughly you felt as if you couldn’t breathe. With every harsh thrust, the searing pain began to subside, an indescribable warmth beginning to take its place. Albert’s hand wrapped around the scarf, tugging it closer, and your back arched off the mattress to meet his grueling pace. You subconsciously clenched around him at the action, the thrusts of his cock becoming much more clear against you at the shift in your position. The other hand dug into your hip, forcing your legs even further apart as he drove into you. Heat prickled across your skin, the stretch of his cock becoming everything except pain with each thrust. Your toes curled as he hammered into you, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. Quick, heated huffs escaped you as he ruined you, the pain completely shifting into white-hot pleasure.

Albert practically growled as you succumbed to his ministrations, broken moans filling the air as he fucked you into the mattress. “Taking me so- hah… well… I knew you needed it…” He groaned, head dropping to your shoulder as his scarf-entangled fist met the bed, pulling you even more upright. “-Such a- fuck… dirty slut.” His degrading words burned at your skin, yet the way his hips rolled against you made any semblance of a response die on your lips. The warmth returned to your stomach, kneading so heavily within you it felt like you were going to burst. Your legs trembled around Albert’s waist, the tension continued to build with every stroke of his cock through your slick walls. Uncontrollably, you clenched down, causing a hiss to escape the male hovering over you. “Shit… you’re milking me. You- mmh… you wanna cum?” He mused, dropping the scarf completely to wrap both hands around your neck, pushing you flat into the mattress.

Pushing his weight against you, his hips slammed into yours at such a bruising pace your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Using your neck as a lifeline, Albert barred down, cutting off most of your oxygen as he pounded against you. “Cum for me, let me- ah… let me ruin you.” He pushed, thrusting so deeply you swore you saw stars. Your heels dug into the mattress, tension building within you so tightly tears welled in your eyes. And finally, you burst. Your orgasm hit you so suddenly your nails cut into your palms, body spasming as pleasure cut through your whole body, the dam releasing. A guttural scream tore through the air, rough and jagged, before it dawned on you that it was coming from you. Albert’s paced faltered as he fucked you through your orgasm, the pleasure radiating off of you in waves to the point you felt like jelly in his hands.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-.” Albert chanted into your neck, riding out your orgasm before his hips stilled within you, stuttering as he reached his own orgasm. Hot, wet ropes of cum spurted within you, and you clenched at the feeling. Albert shuddered, practically collapsing against you, hips shallowly thrusting against yours. Sweat clung to your skin, and the smell of sex, blood, and saliva coated the air heavily. Albert’s grip on your throat released, and you gasped for air. Albert tore his head from the crook of your neck, sweat dripping from his temple as he took in his handiwork. You were sprawled beneath him, skin adorned with love bites and bruises, covered in blood and sweat as you tried to catch your breath. You were his, ruined for all others.

A wicked grin spread across his lips, and he gently unwrapped the scarf from your neck, rubbing the raw flesh of your throat endearingly. He hummed at the way you melted against his hand, brain turned to mush and still reeling from your orgasm. So sweet, so compliant, all it took was a little breaking in, and you were all his. Albert withdrew his hips from yours, his softening cock retreating from your folds. You jolted at the feeling, a hiss escaping you as the emptiness consumed you again, soreness creeping into your form. Crawling off the bed, Albert quickly dressed, shoving himself into his slacks before glancing at your fucked-out form on the mattress, a mixture of cum and blood dripping onto the mattress from between your legs. Albert huffed at the sight, buckling his belt into place before moving to crouch beside you.

His fingers brushed your hair, and you sleepily opened your eyes to meet his own. Albert smiled at the empty gaze within them, only trained on him. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hm? How about some of that eggnog?” Albert mused, grabbing your ruined shirt and pushing you upwards. You limply complied, jerking slightly from the shift in position. Albert produced a small key from his back pocket, unchaining your wrist from the wall before slipping the ruined shirt back onto your form. You hummed slightly, relishing the way the fabric brushed against your sore skin. Releasing your form, you flopped backwards onto the mattress, exhausted. Albert chuckled at your almost broken state, standing and grabbing his shirt. Shrugging the material back onto his body, he buttoned the bottom few buttons before turning towards the door. “Merry Christmas, hon. I’m sure it’s one you’ll never forget.”

Your eyes met his once more, and he smiled, knowing he had won. Bound by kindness, he thought. Turning, he creaked open the heavy door before slamming it shut, leaving you alone in the cramped room. Rolling on your side, you brought your knees to your chest, the warmth fading from your skin. Shame and guilt blossomed like a pit within your stomach, the pleasure seeping from you as you stared out at the wall. You winced at the pain from moving, groaning slightly as you felt Albert’s cum leaking from you onto the damp mattress. Mind swirling with emotions that were too complicated to decipher, you waited for Albert to return, craving his warmth, yet hating yourself for wanting him near you. His betrayal was a fresh wound to bear, yet you couldn’t find yourself despising him, a much more primal emotion forming in your gut. You couldn’t tell which was more terrifying. Figuring out how you felt about Albert and how to adjust to your… new life was a tomorrow problem, for now you needed to rest. Staring out at the small window by the ceiling, you watched the snow fall once more, the frigid air creeping into the room and seeping into your bones.

You always hated the cold.

—

A/N: This was definitely a labor of love... requests and suggestions are still open for anyone interested!

#smut #the grabber smut #slasher smut #slasher x reader #the grabber x reader #the grabber #albert shaw x reader #the black phone #slasher #horror smut #x reader #female reader #x you smut #reader insert #slashers #ethan hawke #ethan hawke x reader #the black phone fanfic

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jokeringcutio · 1 year ago

Text

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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#albert shaw #albert shaw x reader #reader insert #female reader #black phone #the grabber x reader #the grabber x you #I have more grabber x reader content and need to update my masterlist

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