It's Not My Party, But I Can Still Cry If I Want To
Summary: [From an ask] Older (young adult or teen) magician’s helper getting railed after a show. Ex basement dweller of course
You have gained the Grabber's affections and are now trusted outside the basement. He really is a part-time magician and now you get to be his "little" helper.
Reader can be read as older teen/college age
A/N: I'm very aware that people like good old Bertie here don't typically have interest in boys when they grow up but we're all going to use our imaginations and pretend he has grown super attached to you. Not loving. Just attached. Dude had abandonment issues. I don't make the rules Also I haven't actually written a lot of smut in the past so let's be kind
Contains: MDNI Adult x teen/college sexual relationship, m|m of course, anal, blow job/face fuck (reader giving), semi-public sex (you're in a van), one use of the f-slur (period typical homophobia and Al is an asshole), footjob? (getting off against someone's shoe)
Word Count: 3960ish
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You were his little helper. That's what he'd been calling you for some time now. Ever since you graduated from basement-dweller to in-house guest.
Living with Albert Shaw was no easy ride, but it certainly was a whole lot better than being kept in the basement while he popped up and down the stairs. You got to eat better and sleep in his bed, and as long as you didn't push his buttons too often, things weren't all that horrid.
Of course, there were times that you were punished, after all, no one is perfect and when the rules kept changing, Al was more aggressive with you than expected. You had to keep reminding yourself that just because you were out of the basement, it didn't mean you weren't still a player in his games. He was still a psycho who liked it rough.
Unfortunately, you were also a bit of a creep who had learned to like it rough.
You were sure you'd end up in therapy one day telling a stranger how the time you spent latched to Al's side made you enjoy whatever attention you got.
Thankfully you didn't have to think about that yet.
So, you were his little helper. Older now, but little by comparison - age and size-wise (the man was built a little larger than expected, it was remarkable that he didn't accidentally break you all those times you were under his hold.) You were following him to some kid's birthday party, picking and choosing what kinds of jokes to make about the irony of the Grabber doing magic tricks for kids when he preferred them in his basement.
"You, uh, gonna make one disappear?" You give him an expression that tells him you know exactly how bad of a joke that was, and he returns it in kind, his eyebrows knitting together in a disappointed frown. "That was funny, I'm not apologizing."
"Your sense of humor hasn't gotten any better" Al muttered as he fixed up his incredibly dorky top hat and glasses. You liked him like this - without his mask on. You could see the age lines over his face, and the curve of his lips as he spoke. His captivating eyes weren't shadowed by the devil mask out in public, but they hypnotised you all the same. You found him... beautiful. Handsome was a good word too, but Al was prettier, in your mind, than he was rugged. There was a delicacy to him that only you seemed to notice. Even if he did look a bit ridiculous in his magician's outfit.
"Forgive me, sir, I spent my formative years in a basement" you hummed, glancing out the window of the Abracadabra van he drove you in. Al let out a rumbling sigh - that strange growl he did when you irritated him. He'd gotten more and more used to your antics as you aged around him, the man knowing when and when not to grow wearisome of you. Maybe you were teaching him patience.
"Must you antagonize me while I am driving?"
"Hell of a lot better than doing it when you're not." Your cheeky grin was cut short by Al's hand leaving the steering wheel and grabbing the hair at the back of your head firmly. He yanked back, your neck exposed for him.
"What was that?" he probed, stopping at the red light to give you most of his attention. You bit back your smile, a small noise leaving you. He knew you liked a good tug on your hair, especially when he did it right and not carelessly. He was playing with you.
"Green light" you hummed in response and he clicked his tongue at you, moving his hand back to the wheel and taking off. Your leg bounced in place, and you shifted in the seat, chewing on the bottom of your lip. There was no way you could be seen with a hard-on when they arrived at the birthday party. Just cause one of you shouldn't be around children, didn't mean people had to think it was you.
He made a tsk noise, having glanced at how your pants tightened.
"Naughty boy" Al hummed and you made a small huff.
"You started it with the hair pulling..." you mumbled softly. The balloons leading to the birthday quickly reminded you of what you two were about to do and it calmed the thoughts you'd been otherwise distracted with. Al would be the main performer, of course, and you were there to be his slave - setting up for the show, making conversation with the adults so Al didn't fumble his way through a discussion and come across as off-putting. No one would want him around their kids for a living if he opened his mouth and told them how dreadfully distracting the birthday boy was. Not that he had slipped up before. Some people just found his magician persona off-putting when the kids weren't around.
When Al stopped the van, he unbuckled and you remained in your seat waiting for his eventual wave of the hand to signal you could do the same. And just like every other time you'd accompanied him to these things, you stayed in the van until he wandered around and opened your door. The one thing Al had maintained through the time you'd been around him was that he liked to be in control. Needed to be. It was almost a compulsion of his.
Simply letting him do what he needed was a good way to keep him from having one of his episodes.
"Thank you" you gave him a little hum as you jumped out of the seat next to the driver's side, your eyes locking with his for a beat. The two of you would have to stop that for the moment - giving each other fuck-me eyes in public was a great way to get you both fired and detained for inappropriate behaviour. Despite that, Al placed his hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you over to the back of the van to start unpacking. Every touch from him, every glance, it set your skin on fire. You knew all about the monster that lurked beneath the surface and you ached to see it peak out from behind the goofy grins and silly voices he put on for the kids.
As you unloaded all the materials he needed, Al disappeared briefly, not wanting to be cornered by an excited parent wanting to thank him. It left you dealing with the birthday boy's mother.
"You must be... Mister Shaw? My, you look frightfully young, I was expecting--"
"No, ma'am, I'm just the assistant. Mister Shaw will be right back. I can help you with anything you need though once I'm done unpacking" You flashed her one of your winning smiles, all youth and charm. The woman, probably in her mid-40s, played with her hair like a school girl as she gave you a little chuckle. It was nice to see your skills at being so personable hadn't gotten worse. You glanced away for a moment to pick up the table Al was going to use before you spotted him, hands stuffed into his pockets, just... standing there. Staring at you. His eyes screamed of possession and jealousy at the attention you were getting. Not to be mistaken for wanting attention from the woman himself, but his petty desire for you to save your charm and attraction (however false), for him and him alone. It sent a shudder skittering down your spine.
After all this time and still he had you acting like you were still longing for that first touch. There was no addiction more profound for you than that of the Grabber's harsh hold on your body. The way those hands had bruised your skin and left you aching... the feeling of being pressed against a body so solid, and to experience how he could wrap himself around you fully so that nothing else could be felt but him... the way his mouth--
"Hm? Sorry, I didn't catch that" You had realised you were distracted again and the woman's words went in one ear and out the other.
"Oh, I was just saying that you are quite the strong boy aren't you. Are you still in school?" the woman didn't have anything for you to do, task-wise, she was simply lavishing in the attention of a young man. Maybe she and Al were more alike than you thought. You answered her questions idly as you set everything up the way Al liked it, making sure to fix things that your host deemed fit to 'help' with. You weren't about to earn yourself a damn punishment cause this frivolous woman wouldn't stop bothering you.
"Not getting distracted are we?" Damn it. Al had approached and he didn't sound very friendly.
"Not at all, Mister Shaw. This is the birthday boy's mother. She was simply lending a hand while she got to know us a bit better. Making sure everything was going to go off without an issue" You spoke quickly, eyeing him as you fixed up the last of his equipment. The look he gave you could've been likened to the one you got back when you asked for something to eat that wasn't eggs. Sometimes it wasn't hard to imagine he wanted to just reach over and throttle you.
"As long as you aren't causing mischief, heehee" his little giggle made you have to turn away so you didn't laugh in his face. Fucking idiot.
He behaved himself as he spoke to the woman, though she didn't find his antics as interesting as your rear end as you bent over to fix up the table leg. A positive, however, was that she left you both alone to get her son ready inside. Seems Al really has the secret touch when it comes to chasing women away.
Before you stood up, the man himself pressed against you and you swore you stopped breathing. You could feel him, half hard already, against your ass.
"Mmmm" the low rumble that escaped his throat was definitely from the Albert that you'd seen in the basement and not this magician. "My, my, what a pretty sight" His fingers delicately traced down your spine, your back arching at the touch.
"Someone is going to see" you glanced back at him.
"No one is here yet." Al shifted both of his hands to your hips, pressing into you harder. "Fuck"
"It's hard to find this sexy when you look like that" you quipped up at him, feeling his fingers tighten on you in response.
"Don't be a brat or I'll give you a spanking" - your go-to response should not have been oh god please.
"Al" you prompted him to move away, despite not wanting him to - but he sure as hell wasn't going to fuck you out in the backyard of someone's home. You gave him a tsk and stood up without permission. Just as his hand shifted to take you by the neck, the door to the backyard opened and you quickly ducked out of the way, doing a little jog back to the van.
Al, thankfully, was not hard, as children started to pour into the yard. It was always a tossup with that man. You took your place beside him after grabbing the cheap glittery cape he forced you to wear as a humiliation ritual, forcing your restlessness into excitable energy.
The show was a hit with the crowd of children. Al dazzled them with his silliest jokes and clumsy humor, delighting them all with his well-practiced magic tricks. You helped where you were needed, having your role perfected by now - after all there wasn't much use of you if you couldn't be perfect for him. Because it was so very popular and the audience were thrilled, it left Al buzzed and excited, which meant he was all the more irritating. He was grabby - circling around you like a shark and distracting you from cleaning up the mess he'd made. He risked a touch or a squeeze, pulling you in closer to him, but played it off as being extra goofy when people saw.
"You stop that" you huffed at him, smacking his hand away where it hovered inches from your ass. He followed you into the back of the van once you lifted the table in, closing it with a sharp clank. "What are you doing now... there's more to do out there, Al". You folded your arms over your chest, like you were the adult between the two of you, giving him an unimpressed frown. He backed you into the van further, just staring you down with a small smile dancing on his lips, before reaching behind you, leaning over your body, and pulling the top of his devil mask out from where he'd stashed it.
"No-- you can't be serious. Not here!" you hissed in protest but once the mask slipped on, his stupid top-hat and glasses tossed to the side, you fell silent, staring at your feet instead of his face.
"Don't tell me you've gone and changed your mind..." he purred softly as he grabbed your face and forced you to look at him. "You were so excited for me on the way here." You let out a little whimper in response to his hard grip, knowing he would like the reaction. His hand was rough to grasp between your legs, your jaw clenched tight as he held you in a way that made you fidget. "Get on your knees." Al grunted at you. His touch had made you react - your pants starting to feel snug, but with his order you forced yourself to your knees in front of him, his hand moving away. You squeezed your thighs together slightly, squirming in place.
Damn him.
You could both hear the fussing of parents outside and the excited cries of the birthday party, yet as you were eyeing the door behind Al, he watched only you. He undid his belt slowly, before giving your cheek a sharp slap. "Eyes on me"
"Sorry" you whispered softly as you jerked back to watch his face rather than the doors. God help either of you if you got caught. He unzipped his pants and with a small sigh out his nose, Al fished himself out of his pants, stroking slowly. Your mouth filled with saliva at the sight, the urge to drool over his hardening length making you feel a lot dirtier than you wanted. Unfortunately your body acted from memory. It wasn't the first time you'd taken him down your throat and it wouldn't be the last.
"Open" he spoke slowly, taking all the time in the world to order you around, knowing that you were antsy about being caught. He was toying with you. Fucker. You opened your mouth for him, despite the urge to cuss him out for doing this here of all places. "Fuckin' pathetic" he added with a chuckle. One of these days you swore you were going to bite him for being a prick. Today was not that day, however. You didn't want to admit you'd been thinking about him easing into your mouth, so you said nothing.
Giving his tip a kitten lick, you watched his breathing shudder, his jaw tightening. Tongue sliding over the slit at the top of his cock where his pre started to bead, you watched his length twitch as his hand snaked into your hair. Al combed his fingers through as you lapped slowly, teasing him. As his hand tightened, gripping your hair hard, you moved to add your own hand to the mix.
You made sure your hand had collected enough saliva, pausing the work of your tongue on him, before you started to stroke him.
"Mouth" he ordered, sick of waiting for you. His cock was hard and achingly red, and even though you desperately wanted to torment him for the act he put on outside, it wasn't your place. Your mouth fit over his tip, sucking him softly, hand moving in kind. Another forced calm breath left Al's lips as you took him a little deeper, still working your hand over him. "Look at you--" As your head bobbed slowly back and forth, tasting his cock with your tongue as your mouth moved over him, he pressed his foot between your legs. You jolted forward, Al's shaft sliding back further into your mouth, his tip kissing the back of your throat. You shot him a glare, but as you tried to move back to where you'd been settled, wanting his cock to sit comfortably in your mouth, he forced your head down. You choked on him, hands moving to grip his thighs.
The sensation of him giving short but slow thrusts down your throat as he toyed with your hard-on with his foot made you forget all about the van door. It made all your concerns disappear. He pressed his foot firmer against you, your hips shifting to meet his movements, grinding against his shoe. You felt him grip your head with his other hand as well, and with a small hum, he held your face steady as he started to use your throat.
A mix of heavy breathing and the idle sounds of you gagging and gurgling around his fat cock sliding in and out of your throat filled the van. You could barely hear Al's grunting over your own pathetic noises. Not to mention the sound of your pants material scraping against his shoe as you ground your hips harder into his foot.
Fuck. You were going to come. Embarassingly fast. You hoped, just on the surface, that Al would come down your throat. He was an older guy, after all, and it would mean that you had more of a chance of not being bent over in the van if he did.
He held your face against him, your nose pressed against his belly, the material of his stupid magician's costume tickling your skin. You could feel every inch of him sliding down your throat. Each vein and twitch of his cock cutting off your air supply...
Your eyes rolled back as your hips shuddered to a stop. You felt the delightful rolling of an orgasm rip through your body, your back arching to a painful angle as you were held in place. He let you go with a snarl, still gripping your hair as you were tugged back. Gasping and breathless, a line of saliva connected you to his length, tears and snot defiling your once-perfectly handsome face.
"Get up" he had no time for you to sit with the mess you'd made, using his terrifying strength to pull you to your feet. "You want to act like a fucking brat, you'll take it like one too."
He turned you over, delighting in the fact that you were stumbling around like a newborn deer as you tried to get your footing. Al didn't bother to get you to undo your own pants, taking on the responsibility himself. He shoved you so you bent forwards over one of the boxes in the back of his van, your pants by your ankles.
Al didn't prep you. He was too impatient, but you knew that. You'd known that for some time - ever since the basement. It had become one of your daily tasks to make sure that you weren't going to tear if he decided to grab you for fun at any moment. At least you'd made sure his cock was slicked up and ready.
He was slow to push into you. An act of momentary kindness that you knew was only to stop you from being too loud. You covered your mouth with a hand to stop the choked gasping as his length stretched you more. There was no comparing him to the attempt of your fingers at opening you up. No matter how hard you tried to give him easy access, he seemed to split you open every time. He made low noises right next to your ear, his body encompassing yours as he leant over you.
"Fuck..." his delighted sigh and shuddering hold on your waist made the painful sting of him pushing into you feel remarkably better. Whatever part of you he'd broken in that basement had learned to love his approval. The way he adored your body and craved to have his hands on it - even in the worst possible situations. You loved it. You wanted him to want you... or else you wouldn't have meaning...
"Feels good" you nodded slightly from behind your hand.
"'course you'd thinks to... fuckin fag--" he grunted as he took hold of your hair once again, yanking your head back as he withdrew his cock from you, only to slam right back in. The urge to yelp or cry out at his rough pace bubbled up inside you, your hand clamping down on your mouth harder. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as he fucked you relentlessly, the van starting to shake just enough to make your eyes widen.
"A-Al-- Al slow down, the van..." you squeaked out but he snaked his arm around your throat in response, putting you in a headlock, fucking into you faster. This fucking idiot.
"Shut the fuck up" he snapped in your ear and you listened, trying to think of all the ways you could excuse what was going on in here... The thought process was shaky considering he'd found that wonderful spot inside you and abused it until your body ached. Stomach rolling and legs almost giving out, you relied on him to keep you from crumbling to the floor of the van as he pushed you over the edge once more. His arm tightened around your throat, his thrusts breathing rhythm.
He whispered to you things that made your chest ache and your stomach roll with nausea - sweet things he didn't mean. Claiming words that you knew would one day leave you all alone again if he got sick of you... Things that made you want to push him away even as he whimpered when he came. Fuck that sound was good. And you'd made him do it. That was all you.
He left you both panting, standing there for a moment to catch your breath. You were a mess of your own release and now his running down your thighs, sweat beading over your forehead and sticking your hair to skin.
"Need a handkerchief?" He showed you the colorful pattern sticking out of his sleeve.
"Oh my god" you nudged him away, his little snort telling you he was absolutely going to pull the never-ending handkerchief trick on you. Right after sex too. What a fucking idiot.
You needed a moment, face buried in your hands, sitting on one of the many boxes after you gave an attempt at cleaning up. Surprisingly he let you, jumping out of the van - after tucking his mask away and putting his glasses and hat on - and tending to the rest of the clean up outside himself. No one mentioned the van shaking - assuming that it was simply the two of you reorganising to fit the boxes back in. Who in their right mind would suggest otherwise.
He didn't come back to see if you were okay. He never really did. Aftercare was more of a time to clean wounds and make sure you weren't going to run off...
If you wanted comfort, staying with the damn Grabber wasn't the answer.
