DRABBLE/ AMNESIA!READER X THE GRABBER [PART 1]
Fandom: Black Phone 2022 Pairing: The Grabber/ Albert Shaw x Reader Rating: Mature (with explicit follow ups) Warnings: Kidnapping, scolding, Amnesia!Reader, Headache!Reader, Head injury. Implied age gap/ older man/younger woman.
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A warmth surrounded you, comfortable and strong. Muscles, you thought. Someone holding you. And the scent of muskiness, of someone’s essence you were being drenched in. Enveloped. Surrounded. It brought you back to the waking world. A dull pain was in the back of your skull and throbbed behind your eyes.
The first thing you woke up to was the greyness of shapes in the dark, and a gruff voice hissing at you. “I should gut you for making me carry you all the way. Do my back in carrying you.”
You blinked, opening your eyes fully to find a concrete wall in front of you. A shimmering shade in front of it, like a black silhouette that swayed until your eyes managed to focus and you found yourself frowning at the shape of a man.
A man with a mask on.
“But no, here you are. All luxurious,” his voice was high-pitched, twisted. Then became dangerously low again. “Well, I hope you’ll be grateful, girl.”
What was he moping about, you wondered? You blinked again and tried to ignore the sharp pian in your skull. Your hand flew up to press against the sore spot on your head in an attempt to alleviate the pain. Your mouth was dry, lips parched and tongue lolling. You had trouble finding your words. And yes, it felt like you lost them. Like they had been scattered all over the grimy basement floor.
What was happening?
The man waited patiently, observing you from his spot opposite you. His arms were folded in front of his chest. The mask betrayed no emotions that lay underneath. Not that you could have read them anyway, not with the state of mind you were in.
When you finally looked up at him it was with innocent questioning eyes. The look within them caught the man by surprised. His breath hitched in his throat, his chest remained raised while his arms unfolded. He had seen something in them he could not quite place, something so innocent it surprised him. Not the anger he expected. Not the accusations he had anticipated.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” you started, stuttering and stammering as you tried to get your tongue to move the right way to form words. “You must excuse me, I am being awfully impolite.”
The man’s rapid breathing had stopped. Instead, eyes covered by shadows stared deeply into yours while you tried to scramble for words. “I am afraid I forgot my manners,” you let out a small laugh, but instantly winced as the movement and sound pained both your skull as well as your ears. Dang, what had happened to you? Had you hit your head or something?
You saw the mattress on which he had placed you but didn’t register the fact that there was no bed underneath nor that it was covered in grime. Your head hurt too much to give it any thought, so you lay down without questioning. “I am so sorry,” you whispered, then hummed, “tired.”
Behind the mask, the man’s eyes widened. “You’re going to lay down?” he asked, and was that worry you heard seep through in his voice?
You wanted to nod, but the movement hurt. And so you kept to a low hum while you flung an arm to cover your eyes. It dulled the pain inside your skull. When the man remained quiet, you decided he needed more of an answer, and gathered the strength to speak again.
“I’m tired,” you said, voice a whisper.
Finally, the man moved away from his spot on the opposite wall and crouched down next to the mattress. He reached out a hand, calloused fingertips gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. A caressing gesture, almost.
He cocked his head, the mask looking at you sideways. “You’re an odd little thing, aren’t you?” he said, voice low and twisted. Sickening, you thought. But then again, your stomach twirled with sickness. You were afraid you were about to throw up. Unless you were to lie down. Yes. Lying down felt nice. You let out a slow and pleased growl, shoulder slumping again. But the man’s hand was still upon your cheek and you allowed it. You allowed the man to touch your face.
His hand became bolder. Fingers traced your skin and then knuckles slid down your chin, until his entire palm engulfed your cheek, hot and heavy. A thumb was pushed in between your lips, at the corner of your mouth, and you instinctively suckled on it. It alleviated the pain somewhat and made the man let out a husky moan. You thought he sounded surprised, but weren’t quite certain.
“Look at you,” the man murmured, voice low and hoarse, as if his throat was as dry as yours. His thumb moved up and down between your lips while you suckled without a thought. Your lips moved automatically, as did your tongue, swirling past his salty skin.
“You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you.” A low groan followed his words, and you vaguely became aware of how his other hand had moved between his legs to fondle the growing bulge in his pants. But it was hard to open your eyes and look at him.
“Such a needy little girl,” his voice rasped. And then, all of a sudden, his thumb popped from your lips and his hand scooped behind your back. You were roughly placed into a sitting position and winced at the hurt you felt in your head. You were tired, too tired for this. With difficulty, you managed to open your eyes and sought his in the dark, behind the mask. You waited patiently while he studied you, his hand firm upon your neck to keep you sitting up.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
You blinked at him, groggily, then replied obediently. “Of course you already know that,” you added, making him tilt his head curiously again.
“Why would you say that?” his low voice rasped. Like a demon’s, you thought, but your head hurt too much to register what it could mean.
“Well, you brought me to my room, didn’t you, sir?” you said, frowning when you realized that you didn’t know the man’s name. Huh, that was odd. It must have slipped your mind. You had such a headache, after all.
“Sir?” the man asked.
“Sir,” you confirmed, frowning. “I er-“ you wanted to apologize for forgetting his name. Surely he must be someone you knew, or he wouldn’t be there. But hearing his voice didn’t ring any bells. And well, you didn’t really see his face with the way your vision was swimming in front of you. Whatever shape you saw was distorted, like he was wearing a wide grin and devil’s horns on top. But surely, that must be your mind playing tricks.
“Do you know who I am?” he then asked the question you had dreaded to hear, and involuntarily, you felt tears spring to your eyes. You tried to shake your head but flinched at the pain.
“Sorry,” you sniffed, wanting to lay down, but his hand on your neck kept you up straight and prevented you from lying down on the mattress again. “I-I can’t- I can’t remember.”
“Can’t remember what, sweetie?” the man cooed, but there was an odd lull to his voice. Like he was teasing you rather than being genuine when he spoke. “Can’t remember who I am?”
“Can’t remember your name,” you sputtered. Your hands reached up for his, trying to pry his fingers from your neck but to no avail. He was much too strong. “Please, I need to lie down. It hurts,” you muttered, tears streaming from your eyes.
The man studied you in silence, then tilted his head again and let out a sigh.
“No can’t do, sweetheart. Look me in the eyes,” he said, you felt how the hand holding your neck slipped free, but his hold on you did not diminish. Instead, his arm circled around you, holding you up. His other hand came to rest upon your cheek, forcing you to look up at him. You tried to fulfill his request, eyes searching for his in the darkness.
“Do you remember how you got here?” he asked.
“How I got here?” you murmured, eyes turning wide in surprise. What did it matter, you thought annoyed. Not even realizing that you didn’t. You didn’t recall anything and you didn’t feel like trying to at this point because thinking only hurts your head. So the words that came out also flowed without a thought.
Your innocent eyes glistened in the weak light that managed to reach into the basement, giving them an unearthly shine. The tears made it seem as if silver was sparkling within them. “Aren’t you here to protect me?”
A whimper fell from your lips while the man in whose embrace you were stiffened. You heard the slow huff from behind the mask, and noticed how he gently made you lie down on the mattress before he retracted his hands from you.
“You go and get some sleep now, angel,” he whispered, voice not as low as before but still as rough. Odd, you thought. He did not sound familiar. But he must be, right? Why else would you be here?
“You go to sleep and I’ll come to bring you something nice to drink soon.”
And so you closed your eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep.
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