#Beauregard sinclair x you

[mandowifey]

For your match up requests can you surprise me? 🥰💙

Of course I can, you lovely bean you. Once again I am a cheater and I know who n' what you like, so with that being said...

I assign you; Bo and Vincent Sinclair!

Note: This is NSFW. Strictly because of gore, blood, violence, and mentions of sexual activities. There are allusions to non-con, as well as dub-con, some domestic violence, and forced relationships. Just overall dead dove, stay safe kiddos! This was also not proofread or edited, and my first time writing for them!

Be gentle.

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There was something deeply unsettling about the smell of burning meat.

When coagulated fat boiled and broke down it released a nauseating odor that permeated the humid Summer air. Sometimes it could take on the smell of barbecue, which was dependent on what animal was chosen.

You didn't care much for it either way.

Lester tosses a lopsided smile in your direction, using one bloodied hand to wave at you before focusing on dragging the decomposing deer toward the burn pile. You offer a tight-lipped smile in return, not wanting to give the impression you didn't have manners. Those were the most important thing to have around this place.

"Jee-zus Christ, why the fuck are you doin' this so close to town?"

The sound of a slamming truck door made you jump, and that familiar voice had you frozen in place. Your fight or flight instincts always had you ready to bolt, but over time and many failed attempts you had learned it was best to stay put. Boots crunch in gravel and you struggle to stay still.

"Ain't got nowhere else t'do it, Bo." Lester retorts before turning his head to spit.

Bo came to a stop beside you and sucked his teeth as his arms folded. You stare forward without looking. Your vision is tunneled now, and all you are aware of is the chirping of birds and crickets. There is a silence that lulls between you, and you've stopped breathing.

"What do you think, firefly?" Came the dull drawl of Bo's voice as his head turned to face you.

Aside from the regular torture, it seemed that Bo enjoyed antagonizing you with biased questions. Always putting you in the middle of things and forcing you to pick a side. The illusion of choice, as you knew agreeing with anyone but him, got you punished.

Both brothers were staring at you now. Bo, with his arms folded and Lester with a fist on his hip. Of the two, you knew Lester handled disappointment far better. That made things marginally easier, though disappointing him still left you uneasy. Aware that you were expected to respond, you begin blinking the sting of smoke out of your eyes. Finally, you cast a gaze upwards, daring to look at the more imposing man beside you.

"T-the breeze c-carries the smell," your voice was a squeak. "S-should try to f-find a different spot, m-maybe-"

A large hand claps your back and makes you gasp.

"Y'see, even she knows better." Bo grinned into his words while his brother scoffed. "Next time find a better spot." He warned, his expression tightened and some of that southern charm lifted, revealing just a glimpse of what he really was under the veil.

Lester waves his hand dismissively and mutters to himself as Bo leads you to his truck. You are silent as you climb into the passenger side, and do not look at the older man as he settles behind the wheel with a grunt. The old engine sputters and then rumbles to life, rattling the frame of the truck.

"Why're you lollygaggin' around with him for?"

The glass of the window cools your forehead as sweat beads along your temple and upper lip. After such a short period outside, the humidity sapped your energy and most of the moisture inside you. Leaving you with a dry mouth and some fatigue. You wanted a clever answer for Bo, something smart and witty that'd appease him, but nothing came to mind.

Impatiently, Bo grips a fist into your hair and yanks your head in his direction. The pain causes you to wince, but you don't fight it. You knew better. Instead, your glassy eyes stare up at him as your face contorts into something apologetic.

"Did the heat fry your fuckin' brain, kid? Answer me." His eyes flick from the dirt road to you.

"I think he gets lonely." Your voice was quiet. "He asked if I wanted to tag along, n' I said sure. That's all."

Blunt nails stung your scalp, his grip relenting only marginally at the answer. Bo snorts and shoves your head away from him.

"Well aint you just a bleedin' heart as always." His large hand fell to your knee, callouses rubbing over the smooth skin before slipping under the hem of your dress. "You wanna fuck him too?"

You knew where this was going. The same thing happened when it came to Vincent. Bo was a confident man with a sizeable ego but got sore as hell when the topic of his brothers came up. He wanted to be your favorite, but he also felt entitled to you, like he owned you. There were impossible, silent conditions he imposed upon you that left you guessing what the right thing was to say.

The trial and error wove itself as scars in various places on your skin. Cruel reminders of what failed attempts got you. Bo liked to caress them, kiss them, tell you what a shame it was to mar that lovely derma and how he wished you hadn't made him do it. Vincent was the opposite. His hands traced along marks while holding you close, remembering which ones he had meticulously stitched together.

When Bo's hand encroached on the junction of your thighs, you were tensing. "No, I don't wanna fuck him." His fingers curl into the yielding flesh of your inner thigh. He said nothing because he was waiting for more out of you. "I-I only wanna fuck you, Bo. P-promise."

He sucked his teeth again and tapped his thumb against the steering wheel, his hand no longer moving. "You sure 'bout that princess? I've seen how you look at Vincent." The words soured on his tongue, causing his brows to vex and his fingers to bruise into your thighs. To call him territorial was an injustice.

"That's a good girl." His palm clapped your leg twice before withdrawing from your dress and back to the wheel. "You're gonna show me once we get to the house."

Nausea settled in your stomach like a bowling ball. Between that and the unbearable heat, you felt certain you were going to puke. You nod because you have no choice, and unless you wanted to be strung up in the dungeon below the station, you had to play the part.

Left to ruminate in your thoughts, Bo drove silently up towards the old home. When he parked, he caught your wrist as you were climbing out. "Straight to the bedroom." His voice lost its pleasant southern twang and had become something angry. His eyes were dark, focused pools staring at you from below the line of his cap.

"O-of course, right away." The power behind his grip would leave your wrist decorated in finger shaped bruises.

Traversing the incline to the front door, you nudge inside and wipe sweat off your face. Before you could move up the old steps, something touches your shoulder and makes you jump.

"Vincent!" You whisper.

Vincent stood tall and silent, staring down at you through black holes in his mask. It had taken quite some time for you to adjust to, but still, the emotionless face could be quite uneasy. More than once, you had seen it from your peripherals, when in the shower or hanging your clothes up to dry. You knew Vincent had a fascination with watching you and often played into being oblivious to indulge him.

The hand on your shoulder withdrew, and he upturned his palm. Your eyes soften, and you offer your wrist. This was routine when you returned from Bo, and while Vincent was no gentle saint, he was far more kinder to you than the latter. His fingers close around your wrist in a gentle but encompassing grip as he begins to look you over.

"No new ones today."

He turns your other arm over, then tilts your chin and checks your throat. Inside the house was much cooler, yet you felt your body getting hot. You couldn't say if he cared out of compassion or pity, though you assumed it was the same care a farmer had towards their livestock. A press to your lips made your eyes widen and warmth bloom across your cheeks.

Your lips part for him as he presses over your bottom teeth and part of your tongue. With your jaw opened wide, you felt fear. Bo had always mentioned how terrible it would be if they had to remove some teeth for bad behavior. While Vincent had a softer touch, he had no problem bruising and taking from you what he could.

Heavy footfalls made you jump, and your eyes go wide. Vincent released your jaw and shoved you up the stairs knowingly. You don't hesitate or look back as you clamber the stairs and round the corner as the front door swings open. Bo's muffled voice emanates up through the floorboards below, and you silence your steps. Tip toeing into the bedroom, you flail your hands out in the dark, your memory of the layout serving you well as you navigate blindly to the bed.

Slipping your dress to your ankles, you step out of your shoes and climb onto the bed. His smell lingers there on the pillow beside yours, which prompts you to turn your head away. In the silence, you hear your pulse and nervous breathing. Your heart sounds like a frightened animal beating against a cage. You also hear Bo asking Vincent to do something for him. Perhaps he was sending him away from the house, back to the museum, where he wouldn't be nearby to listen.

Maybe he was asking him to come watch, to humilate you further by fucking you in front of him. You wouldn't put it past Bo to taunt his brother in such a way. It was no secret Vincent was charmed by you, and while that was no comfort in its own, you delighted in the fact it pissed his brother off.

Everything fell silent as your heart settled to a slower pace. Then, you could hear the steady climbing of stairs and a low whistling tune. Your throat was dry and head pounding from lack of water. If you could spare the moisture, you would have shed tears. After so many weeks trapped in Ambrose, you had hoped that the fear would go away. Instead, the fear had turned into uncertainty; how long would they keep you alive? You wondered if they would grow bored and discard you in the burn pile, or perhaps Vincent would cherish you as one of his figures. You tried to avoid those thoughts.

The whistling and footsteps came to a stop outside the door. "Honey," the knob twists and light cascaded across your bare form. His silhouette was massive and imposing in the doorway. There was a jaunt to his tone now, almost sing-song.

"I'm home "

#bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x female reader #beauregard sinclair #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x female reader #lester sinclair #bo sinclair x you #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher x you #house of wax #HOW #Ambrose #Beauregard sinclair x you #Beauregard sinclair x reader #Beauregard sinclair headcanons #Beauregard sinclair headcannons #Vincent sinclair headcanons #vincent sinclair headcannons

[thesightstoshowyou]

Shoot for the Moon

Bo Sinclair X GN Reader

Warnings: None. Just fluff. Who am I?

~~

Keys jingle as you cut the engine. The thrum ceases and a moment of tranquil silence passes before the nighttime sounds rise to life all around. Crickets and frogs chirp, night herons splash, a barred owl calls. Cypress, oak, and maple trees creak and rustle in a gentle breeze. Car door hinges squeal as you slip from your vehicle and your boots swish in tall grasses as you make your way to the trunk.

Carefully, you unpack the telescope, flashlight, guides, and notepads. The scents of damp earth and decaying wood wash over you as you move. Already, the oppressive Louisiana humidity sticks your hair to your forehead, yet you wear a jacket and jeans to protect your limbs from mosquitos and ticks.

Satisfied with a small, nearby clearing, you meticulously set up your equipment. You peek through the eye piece and adjust the telescope’s position incrementally. Little flashlight clutched between your teeth, you scratch notes on the illuminated portion of paper before repeating the process.

An hour or so in, you abruptly surface from the lull of peaceful concentration. At first, you’re not certain what distracts you, but then you recognize the silence. All the wildlife has gone quiet, disturbed by something close by.

You frown and quiet your own breath, tilting your head to listen intently. To your left, a sharp snap; twigs underfoot. Something stalks through the brush, just out of sight.

A bear, maybe, or a stray dog. Your mind whirs with the possibilities, but you will yourself to stay calm. Nothing you can’t handle.

However, when a man emerges from the tree line, your heart stutters. Fear and confusion take root in your brain and you must consciously fight back the panic to keep your thoughts clear.

Where the hell had he come from? There isn’t a town or house around for miles, as far as you’re aware. You’d carefully chosen this particular spot for that very reason.

The man saunters toward you, hands buried in the pockets of the deep blue coveralls he wears. His pace is leisurely, every step measured and deliberate, meant to instill dread. You can’t make out the details of his face through the gloom and the cap perched atop his head does you no favors.

“Yer out here awfully late,” he notes, the pleasant drawl of his voice disturbing the hush of the clearing. He nods toward the crescent moon hanging low in the sky as though you need his help to tell it’s nighttime.

“Could say the same about you,” you respond, slipping the flashlight into your palm. You could blind him if he gets too close.

He stops his advance about twenty feet away, head tilting slightly as he studies you and your equipment. “Folks out this late don’t often have the best intentions.”

Pot, meet kettle. You resist the urge to call him out and instead motion to your telescope. “Just star gazing. I wasn’t aware this was private property. I’ll go—

“Nah, s’not private. Yer good, sugar.” He takes a few steps closer. The muscles in your shoulders tense. You swallow thickly, mind racing. What now?

You speak before you can stop yourself, “I, uh, I just found Saturn. It’s nice and clear tonight. Wanna see?” The man stops abruptly, obviously taken aback. He’s silent for a moment, contemplating.

“…Yer serious?” he questions. His steps are tentative now, cautious. You caught him off guard, it seems.

Roll with it. “Yeah!” You wave him over and allow the excitement to take control of your vocal cords, “And the Milky Way is so pretty right now. We can look at that next….”

He’s close enough now that you can make out the incredulous expression on his face…his very handsome face. The scents of engine oil, burnt grease, and metal hit you and the outfit suddenly makes sense. Still, you question why he’s out for a midnight stroll in such a remote area wearing his work garb.

You scoot out of the way and instruct him to look through the eye piece. He shoots you one more skeptical glance before carefully leaning over and peering into the telescope. You smell him now too: Cigarette smoke, faint aftershave, and woody musk that is not at all unpleasant.

You watch the exact moment the man spots the planet. What you can see of his face lights up and he shifts his body in toward the telescope, hunching more to get a better angle through the eyepiece. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs, hand coming up and hovering over the finderscope, hesitant to touch. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face.

“So beautiful, right? Do you see the rings?”

“Sure do,” he replies, straightening and flashing you a hesitant, crooked smile. Your thoughts are almost derailed by the charm of it, but the eagerness to teach keeps you grounded.

“Here, scooch over a sec, lemme just readjust it….” You quickly check your notes then fiddle with the telescope. You’re overly aware of the man standing next to you, but he surprises you with polite silence, hands on his hips, apparently content to watch you work.

“Here, look,” you excitedly tell him as soon as it’s adjusted. With a quizzical expression, he leans down again, though there’s more enthusiasm in his movement this time.

“…What am I lookin’ at?” he asks, glancing over at you expectantly.

You giggle and mutter a quick, “Oh right,” before launching into an explanation. You gesture and describe, the animation in your voice and knowledge on the subject captivating the stranger.

He watches you speak with a mixture of admiration and bemusement on his face, like he can’t believe he’s listening so attentively, but doesn’t want to miss a word. All previous tension evaporates as you show him the charts you’ve drawn and move the telescope to and fro.

“Oh, and you should be able to see Phobos right now—

“What’s yer name, darlin’?” the man interrupts suddenly. You glance up at him and realize just how close he stands. Your shoulder brushes his chest, his body heat palpable. You’re glad for the darkness when your cheeks burn.

You do your best not to trip over your own name when he smirks, sudden shyness drying your throat and making your heart skip a beat. There’s irritation there too, annoyance with his smugness. You’re easier to read than you’d hoped, apparently.

“Bo,” he tells you as he holds out his hand. You turn to face him and accept his outstretched palm. It is then you notice your watch.

“Oh christ, it’s late. I really gotta go!”Hurriedly, you gather up your notes and pack away your equipment. Bo watches quietly and you can tell by the way he stands so stock still that he’s contemplating something.

You don’t give him a chance to decide on whatever it was he was planning when he entered the clearing.

“I, uh…I was gonna come back on Thursday if, you know, if you wanted to learn more.” Bo blinks at you, genuine surprise on his face. You’re just as shocked by your own words. Offering to meet a strange man with questionable intentions, alone, in the middle of rural Louisiana to teach him amateur astronomy?

Have you lost your damn mind?

Yet, the way he’d engaged with the subject and how eagerly he listened makes you think there’s something more to this man. The initial trajectory of your meeting had changed, hadn’t it? There was a spark, a yearning for connection. He wants to learn, and you want to teach.

That, or you’re completely delusional.

“Next Thursday?” You nod at his question. He tips his head again, like he’s thinking. Slipping his hands back into his pockets, he shrugs. “I can try and make it.”

**

He does make it on Thursday. You do too. And again on Saturday. And the following Friday. And Monday.

Sunday finds you seated on a blanket, Bo at your side, flashlight in your mouth and pen in had. Around you, the nighttime creatures sing their songs. Your trusty telescope points to the sky, ready to capture the comet you’re tracking.

You’re relaxed in his presence now. You’ve decided to attribute your initial meeting to simple chance. He hasn’t given you a reason not to trust him, and you’re not going to look for one.

Your name murmured in a hushed and careful tone breaks your reverie. You hum in response before lowering the flashlight and glancing up. The look in Bo’s baby blues freezes you in place and brings heat to your cheeks.

He’s closer than you anticipated. He removed his hat at some point and his dark hair is ruffled like he hastily ran his fingers through it. That self-satisfied smirk you tell yourself you hate pulls at the side of his mouth and there’s warmth in his eyes as they trace the curve of your lips.

“Been tryin’ t’kiss ya for the past ten minutes,” he teases, his hand reaching out to playfully flick the pen in your hand. You release a breathy laugh as your heart flutters in your chest like a trapped bird.

“Oh, um…s-sorry,” is all you can manage, mouth curving in a weak smile. Your teeth worry your bottom lip when Bo slides closer to cradle your face in his palms.

“Looks like I finally get t’teach ya somethin’ huh?” he jokes, lips ghosting across yours.

You huff, “Oh shut up,” but there’s no real bite to your words. Bo chuckles affectionately and smoothes his thumbs over your hair.

His next words are soft, the vulnerability in them meant only for your ears. “You been real sweet, darlin’. Ain’t nobody taught me anythin’ like you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, moved by his admission. The gratitude in it warms you deep in your chest. Bo wrinkles his nose.

“Alright, enough a’ that. Turnin’ me into a fuckin’ sap.” Your next scoff and eye roll is cut off when he finally claims your mouth in a searing kiss.

Overhead, stars twinkle, your silent spectators.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #thesightstoshowyou #house of wax (2005) #slasher x reader #beauregard sinclair #sights dreams #yes indeed this came to me in another dream #I’m glad for my brain sometimes

[small-sinclair]

Hehehe I love you’re writing, here’s another request, angst with a happy ending

7. I told you that I fucking loved you and you stood there and laughed at me (angst prompt list)

9. “I love you doesn’t begin to express what I feel for you.” (Fluff prompt list)

Reader confessed their love, Bo laughs (it’s out of disbelief reader doesn’t take it that way) reader leaves, Bo comes home in the evening, obviously dude sucks at his emotions and they argue and then Bo ends up word vomiting a love confession too, little kissy at the end :3

Ooooooo. This is a nice one! Had to think about this one for a moment, but I think I have something for this :3

Bo x grey reader

What a Fool

Tw: sfw, confused Bo, mention of future killings, mention of murder/using a person, lovely Bo at the end,

When you told Bo how you felt in the garage, he had to take a double take on you. He looked at you in a mixture of disbelief and... hurt? Why does his baby blue eyes look so hurt when you said you want to spend the rest of your life with him?

"Say that again, honey?" He asked, wiping his hands over his pants, oil stains on his face. He was working on a 2004 Jeep today, and the motor was giving him trouble. "I think the heat is gettin' to my head."

"I said," you take a breath, "I love you, Beauregard Sinclair." You felt butterflies fluttering around your stomach and head. The way the golden afternoon light touching his skin and his wrist made him look like a saint. "I love you so much it hurts sometimes."

The corner of his lips twitched as a goofy smile cracked. At first, you thought he was happy, but when he started laughing hard and held him stomach, your confidence fell. He looked at you, trying to keep a straight face, and laughed harder.

He wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, y/n--what? Did Lester put you up to this? Goodness me, darlin'. You're the funniest human alive." Bo turned back to the jeep. "What a joke."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

You burst into tears, turning on your heels, and left the garage. You didn't mean to start crying, but a cry escaped your mouth as you ran out the garage, pushing Lester aside as he brought visitors to the station. Lester raised a brow at you then looked back at Bo, who was following you behind, confused as ever. The group--two girls and one guy--watched as you ran up the hill towards the house. You want to throw yourself on the closest thing like a Disney princess does in a moved when their love denies them. Is this what it feels like to be broken hearted?

One of the girls didn't stop watching you go until Bo said, "Don't mind 'em. They're actin' funny."

"I don't think they are, mister," the blonde said. "I've seen a broken hearted person, and that one," she thumbed over her shoulder, "just lost all of their love all at once."

The red head girl nodded. "Yeah, man. The hell did you do to them?"

Why don't you mind you own business? Bo wanted to snap, but he had to keep the good southern charm on. Maybe they won't do anything about it?

"It don't matter," Bo said, waving it off. "Y/n just said they love them."

Lester's eyes lit up like a puppy being given a bone. "Really? That's great!" He had the biggest smile on his face. "They were real nervous about it but I told 'em 'at y'all love 'em, too, Bo!"

Oh... no. "They weren't lyin'?"

Lester's not one for violence, but... "Wha did ya tell 'em, Bo?"

Bo's blood ran cold as he covered his mouth. Man, did he feel like a prick. "I thought they were jokin' an'--"

"Don't tell me you laughed at the poor thing!" The blonde said in disbelief. "Please say you didn't?"

"Yeah, I did." Why is Bo talking to the people he's going to kill? "I thought they were jokin' an' Les put 'em up to it!"

The man shook his head, clicking his tongue. "That's cold, brother."

"Ain't your brother," Bo snapped, pacing back to the counter then towards the group, covering his mouth. "Really fucked up 're."

"Yeah! Crashed and burned seems to sum it up," the red head said. She nodded at the door. "You should go after them and say your sorry."

The blonde nodded in agreement as she checked her phone. "Yeah, mister. If you go now, you can beat the rain." She then held up her phone. "Cause, like, it'll be cheesy as hell if your run through the rain to get to them."

Lester had to nod in agreement. "Yeah. Super cheesy."

Then the man held up a hand, asking, "But do you feel the same about them? Like, do you love them?" He shoved his hands back in his sweatshirt. "Because if you say it and not mean it, it'll be Oversvile for you."

"Brendon's right," the blonde girl said. "Because that could make this worse and you might lose a friend." She then looked at the red head and asked, "Remember Will did that, Macy?"

Macy, the red head, nodded. "He played me like a fucking room after that, Percy." She then looked at Bo. "You better figure it out, man."

Bo chewed the inside of his mouth as he placed his hands on his hips, thinking. What did he think of you? Sure, he would laugh with you, talk with you, sleep and hold you. Part of him wanted to kiss you when you dragged him outside to watch the fireflies dace over the wildflowers. The way you spun in the flowers as you tried to catch stars in your hand and held yourself so soft and gentle around them, your smile always warm. Cracking up laughing when Jonesy jumped up to lick your face made his heart swell like no other. Every time he was around you, he felt so calm and lighter. Bo's heart ached when you would curl up closer to him at night, hugging his wrists and scars with so much love. He hated when people looked at you wrong, and he hated when you were taken away from him just to talk to a group of people. When you fell down the spiral stairs and hurt your knee, he wanted to bend over backwards to make you stop crying. He hated to hear you cry, to see your sadness, to see your frown... He hated seeing you run out of the station, holding her face, crying. It felt like a bullet to the chest.

So, why did he laugh? What made him think that it was a joke?

Then it hit him: Trudy said it and never meant a word. The only love he's every felt was... was with you.

"Oh, shit," he said under his breath. "What did I do?" He then looked up at the group then at the door. He heard the soft rumbles of the thunder and flashes over the sky. Fuck the killings, fuck the group... he wanted you. Sweet, perfect, beautiful you.

Macy seemed to be reading his mind. She stepped aside, and held her arm out as a path to the door. "Well, get after it then!"

That was all he needed to hear. He hurried pass them and started up towards the house. The group be killed or not, it doesn't matter. You were in that damn house alone crying. What a fool he is! A damn fool! Here you were, in the shop, looking nice than normal, all dolled up for him, just for him, to ruin something that's been building up in his chest for weeks!

What a fool Bo Sinclair is.

*****************

"I'm an idiot, Vincent!" You sobbed in your pillow. He sat on the edge of your bed and rubbed your back. "A dumb, love, stupid-stupid idiot!"

You scared him when you slammed the door, causing him to drop his coffee mug of tea. It hurts seeing you cry, but it hurts more knowing your crying over his dumb twin. Vincent just wanted to hit Bo with the tow truck--

"Y/n?" Bo called from downstairs, closing the door. "Darlin'?"

"Go-go away!" You chocked out, yelling back down. "I-I don't wan-wanna talk to-to you!" You heard his boots coming up the steps as rain pattered against the glass. You hugged your pillow tighter as you cried.

When Bo saw this scene, his knees didn't feel right and he felt sick. He did this to you. He made you cry. Goods, he's like his father--

Vincent glared at Bo as he stood. His hands moved quickly. 'Talk to them. Y/n's hurt. Fix it.' He stops at the door then looks back at Bo. ‘Fix. It.’

Bo took a deep breath and nods as he brother past by him, his eyes lingering over your crying form. He took careful steps in your room and sat on the edge of the bed. He folded his hands as he listened to your tears. The hallow pit in his chest caved in faster as you flinched away from his hand touching your knee. He hated himself more. He hated himself more than anyone.

"Hey, darlin'," he hummed softly, his voice echoing inside his chest. "Wanna talk to ya."

"Why?" You sniffed. "What? You wanna laugh at me more?"

Those words were like daggers in his heart. "No, no, y/n-- I didn't mean to laugh."

You turned on your side and sat up. You brought your legs close to your chest. He brought his leg up on the bed and shook his head. "I told you that I fucking loved you," you wiped your face, "and you stood there and laughed at me, Bo."

Thunder rumbled against the roof. "I didn't mean to, honest."

Your eyes were so red and puffy that he didn't want to look at you. "What am I to you, Beauregard?"

"What do ya mean--"

"What. Am. I. To. You?" You didn't mean to sound tired or angry. You didn't mean to curl your fingers into a fist. "Tell me. What?" You used your arm as a tissue to wipe away the snot. "Do you see me as a play thing? Want me in-in the basement like the rest?"

He felt disgusted. "No, no!" The near thought of you strapped down in some place horrifying like that nearly broke him.

"Then what am I to you?" You snapped, making him jump at the suddenness. "Am I a joke? A dumb person you thought it'll be fun to play with?" Then something clicked and your mind didn't want to go there, but it did. Your body started to shake. "Are you waiting for the perfect moment to kill me?"

Lightning flashed over his eyes, his blood running cold. Your voice being defeated. Your heart breaking in his hands all because he laughed? Calling them a joke? You. Perfect you. Breaking for a damaged Bo. Why? Why are you doing this to him? His arms reached around you and pulled you into a tight embrace. He held your head against his chest, his hand covering the back of your head protectively. You could hear his heart hammering against his chest.

You struggled against his grip to wiggle free, but it felt so safe, so loving. Luckily, your struggling failed as you cried in his arms. He hushed you softly, kissing the top of your head.

"Wanna know wha' you are to me?" He whispered as rain pattered like bullets. "Yer my first thought every morn. My last thought every night. Yer the reason I git outta bed to mak' coffee. I-I fucking live to hear ya say 'good mornin' ' to me, and it drives me crazy when ya don't say it." He held your head up and cupped your cheek. You were looking up at his beautiful eyes. Those baby blues that made you hit the ground harder. "I thin' 'bout ya when I work on the cars. I thin' 'bout ya when I smoke, wonderin' if yer cooking or bakin'. Shit," he couldn't help but chuckle at thought, "I've said yer name out loud with my last name: Y/n Sinclair." He blushes. "An' it has a good rin' to it, yeah?" You found yourself nodding. He rested his head in your hair, smelling the flowery shampoo you used this morning. "I don't know what ya did to me, and I like it, y/n," he looks down at you. "I like ya a lot."

"So," you hiccuped. "You love me?"

"I love you doesn’t begin to express what I feel for you, darlin' y/n," he answered, laughing. There's a sparkle in his eyes when he asked, "Mind if I show you how much I love ya?"

You managed a nod as your cheeks flushed red.

He leaned down, brushing your lips gently with his rough thumb, and kisses you. His lips were cracked, but they felt like the softest pillows under you. The storm under your skin calmed when you pulled yourself closer, running your hands over his shirt sleeves, tugging him closer. He held your back up as he deepen the kiss. He took you in as if you were the last glass of cold water in July. His head spun as the thoughts of you twirling in the ran sent his mind a blaze, taking you as you were, putting his mama's ring on your finger to forever call you his.

"I love you, Beauregard Sinclair," you breathed against his lips.

He smiled against your skin. "Say it again?"

"I love you, Beauregard Sinclair." And you would say it until your dying breath.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x gender neutral reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x gn reader #house of wax (2005) #house of wax fandom #house of wax fanfic #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #beauregard sinclair #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfic #slasher fanfiction #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair

[ahmnom]

I don't care what ANYONE says Beauregard is a hot ass name.

it would probably be the only thing to make Bo blush if you called him by his full name tbh

#It's spelled like beautiful for a reason dammit #beauregard sinclair #bo sinclair #id be PROUD to moan this nams 🤬 #kinda nuts tho. imagine being emo and named something like Chauncey #house of wax #how 2005 #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair smut #slasher fandom #slasher fluff #slaaher fucker #slasher community #slasher imagines #slasher x y/n #slashers #minors dni

[slashwhores]

Ba-Dum Ba-Dum Ba-Dum

#bo sinclair house of wax #house of wax bo #bo sinclair #bo sinclair fanart #bo sinclair x oc #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x gender neutral reader #bo sinclair x female reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #house of wax fanart #house of wax 2005 #how #house of wax #house of wax oc #slasher fandom #slasher fanart #beauregard sinclair #bo sinclair headcanons #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers #2005 house of wax #slasher x you #slasher x oc #slasher x s/o #slasher x y/n #sinclair brothers #slasher headcanons #slasher fanfic

[vikkirosko]

🧢 Bo Sinclair x Reader Oneshot Beauregard 🧰

Bo had just come home where your whole little family lived when he heard you giggling. When he looked into the kitchen, he saw you and Lester. His brother came home earlier and you were clearly chatting sweetly about something. When you noticed your boyfriend, the smile on your face became even wider, as if he was the cause of your laughter.

"You seem to be having a really good time here"

"Lester was just telling me about the times when you were kids"

You and Lester giggled again. Bo raised an eyebrow, not understanding what exactly his brother could have said that made you so amused, but neither you nor Lester were in a hurry to tell him about it. You got up from the table and approached Bo with a smile.

"Sit down at the table, there will be dinner soon, and I'll go get Vincent"

"Of course, baby"

You kissed him on the cheek and headed to the museum, knowing that Vincent was there.

"Baby! When you go back, grab a beer from the refrigerator in my auto repair shop!"

"Of course, Beauregard!"

You ran away laughing, and Bo froze. It took him a few seconds to realize exactly what his brother had told you.

"Lester, come here..."

Bo heard his brother quickly running out of the kitchen, laughing and not wanting to listen to his displeasure. He just sighed heavily at this, realizing that sooner or later you would have found out his full name. He was waiting for you to come back with Vincent, knowing that his full name wasn't the reason he had to worry.

#Slashers #Slashers x Reader #Slashers Oneshots #Bo Sinclair #Bo Sinclair x Reader

[soullessdianthus]

Soft!Bo Sinclair X Fem!Reader | Headcanons

>> PART 2

Author's note: Basically, how Bo's heart softened and spared you from death. And yeah I'm kinda fucked in the head for writing him this way, but HEAR ME OUT━ I consider doing a part 2 to extend the topic hihi (like, what life in Ambrose with him later looks like or smth + NSFW obviously), but these are my first headcanons, so please be considerate. <3

Warnings: it's a bit lenghty, sorry, canon typical violence, SFW (lot's of comfort)

Word count: 1.1k

Before your first "visit" to Ambrose, you and your friends set up a camp in the nearby woods - you were on a camping trip around Louisiana, for fun I guess or maybe during some break in your school/work

Bo watched your group from the tree line that night, he saw how poorly they treated you, how ignoring and demeaning they were towards you, why on Earth would you spend time with them?

He formed a strong opinion about those people right then and somehow took a little, tiny bit pity on you

When the car mysteriously broke down during the night, you along your companions took a walk to the small town nearby, searching the local mechanic

He was quick to find you, sitting on a pavement in front of a gas station

The man was charming, you admitted to yourself finally, especially when his bright irises traced your every step around the station

Bo looked enchanted, amazed by your personality, the way you talked, your appearance or all at once

But when some of your friends began to disappear few hours later, the true horror began

You stuck between the weirdly abandoned houses with two of your companions who were quick to seal your fate

They used handcuffs they found on the policeman wax figure to strap you to the metal pipe on the gas station - as a fucking offering to the killers chasing after the tourists

"Wh- THE HELL YOU'RE DOING?!"

"Creating a distraction I guess" they responded, trying to justify their actions, before running off, abandoning you to die alone

No matter how hard you struggled against the tube or the handcuffs, there was no way you could escape this without cutting your palm off

Obviously you wanted to avoid that option

And then, out of bloom, he appeared - dressed in a blue coverall, sweat drops shining over his forehead, tousled hair sticking to his temple - clearly running after your "friends"

Bo noticed you in an instant and a wide smile twisted his face - such a prize as you, being placed (offered even) in front of him like a gift? best day ever for our man Bo

And if you are considerably way younger than him, let's say early twenties - he would take an extra intrest in you (being more vulnerable for manipulation *COUGHS*), also extra points if you have daddy issues

Come on, this guy just wants to be worshiped by younger girl and tells her what to do, okay?

"My, my, what do we have 'ere?" he asked rhetorically, slowly lurching toward you "Little fuckers left ya behind? Tsk, tsk"

You froze in place petrified, but... he didn't seem to want to hurt you

Bo swooped your loose hair behind your ear, before carefully examining your form - all this time you stood still

Because what else could you do? You were immobilized, ffs

"Don't worry darlin', Imma take care of 'em, yeah? Just stay right here"

He placed a goodbye-kiss on top of your head, before returning to his "duties", the hunt wasn't over yet

So you stood there helpless, bound to the metal pipe outside of the gas station for God knows how long, wondering what will happen to your friends and what will happen to you

You took a peek inside the wax museum and soon enough you found out the town was in fact empty - there had to be a correlation, right?

Besides you saw the man with a weird mask and long black hair stab one of your companions in the neck - so the conclusion was quite simple

When Beauregard came back with a pair of tiny keys looped on his thumb, you gave him a merciful stare with glossy eyes, non verbally expressing the thought "please, don't kill me"

"You're a smart girl, ain'tcha? Gonna be good, yeah? That means 'no troubles', got it?" Bo spoke softly, his voice enchanting you with sweet venom

He unlocked the handcuffs and set you free, while you gently nodded your head, agreeing to being "good".

"T-Thanks" you massaged the bruised wrist, devouring feeling of "freedom", before he placed his big palm on your lower back

It was so warm

"Come, you must be tired, huh?" Sinclair guided you to walk along him, heading to the house on a hill

His house

Bo invited you inside, opening the doors and guiding you once again with his hand

If he only could, he would hold you, touch you, fondle your flesh all the time - you were fucking magnetic

You politely entered the house, feeling his presence on your back - at this point you wanted to punch yourself in the face for thinking that you're safe now, that he wouldn't hurt you - he probably just killed your friends

But the man took a weird liking to you, maybe it was your bargaining chip to survival?

It was already dark outside when Bo led you to his room upstairs

He caught a clean t-shirt from the drawer and placed it in your hands

"Why are you doing this? Why are you kind to me?" you kept your head down, fingers digging into the material of his shirt

There was a dead silence for a seconds before he responded

"Such a girl like you doesn't deserve to be treated like trash, yeah? You had shitty friends, doll"

You finally looked up at him

He was smiling, it was a gentle smile, a caring one

"Now, maybe we should finally rest, hm? It was a long day"

You did not protest when he pointed with his finger to the bathroom, where you could change into the clean clothes

Neither when he changed into his pajama and guided you towards his bed

The adrenaline and emotions from the whole day kept you on a constant survival mode - but of course, you thought about escape

Yet you didn't

Somehow you made it this far

But now you were lying in bed beside him, under one sheet

You tried to remain calmness, but the tears overfilled your tired eyes - you started crying, trying to remain as still as possible

But Bo felt your curled up form shaking and a few weeps could be heard though you tried to hide it

"Come 'ere" he spoke through the darkness of his room "come, sweetheart. There's no need to cry"

When you turned around to face him, his arm was already opened, inviting you into his embrace

And you foolishly succumbed into his touch

This should feel wrong, but it didn't

He was so warm

Bo brought you even closer to his chest, letting his heat radiate through you

Oh, to have him take care of you &lt;3

You melted into his touch and soon after fall asleep in his arms

Bo never wish for his precious girl to cry like this again

#reader insert #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #headcanons

[birdlungg]

The Request

Bo Sinclair x Reader

You have a dirty request for Bo

AN: this is fucking FILTHY. BE WARNED. I’ll add a read more later. Let me know what you think!

It’s been on your mind for while. You do it on your own, but had never asked him in the time you had been together. Would he think it was gross? Would he break up with you? You finally decide to bring it up to him, but maybe you could have chosen a better time.

You’re sitting in on of the chairs in the Ambrose garage, doodling on a piece of scrap paper while Bo works underneath the car nearby, his feet sticking out from beneath.

“Hey, Bo?” You start hesitantly. He grunts from beneath the car, letting you know he’s listening.

“I wanna try anal.” Bo drops the wrench he’s working with and jerks his head up in surprise, slamming his forehead into the bottom of the car with a loud ‘fuck!’.

“Jesus, Bo!” You jump to your feet as he rolls out from beneath the car and stands shakily. He’s already developing quite the bump on his forehead and groans as you prod at it gently.

“Are you ok?” You ask, instantly regretting it as you receive a glare from him.

“No, I’m not fucking ok! My girl just asked me for fucking anal while I’m underneath a 2 ton vehicle!” You roll your eyes and push him away from you gently.

“Well, I didn’t know you were gonna try to knock yourself out! A simple no would have been fine.” You grumble the last bit to yourself and turn to leave, but he isn’t gonna let you go so quick, grabbing your arm and pulling you to his chest.

“No, you don’t get to leave so quick after that. You serious? You really want me to fuck your asshole, baby?” He smirks down at you as you try to avoid eye contact, looking at his grease covered overalls instead. Bo is having none of it, gripping your hair firmly and tilting your head up until you’re looking at him with a gasp.

“Use your words, baby.” You swallow hard, before nodding.

“Yes. I want you to fuck me in the ass.” He groans low in his throat, tilting your head to the side so he can nose at your throat.

“Mmm baby, you better know what you’re asking for. Don’t want you to regret it later.” You roll your eyes again, knowing that’s as close as he’ll get to showing you his ‘soft side’ (as Bo likes to tell you, none of him is soft.).

You brush his hand to the side and step backwards away from him, making your way to the workbench you were at before. You make sure he’s watching and bend yourself over, breasts pressed flat against the cluttered countertop and ass in the air. You shake it gently, watching Bo’s coveralls get tighter as his eyes darken.

“Do I look like I’m gonna regret it, Beauregard?” He’s on you in seconds, wrenching your head to the side to pull you into a bruising kiss. He pulls away for a moment, removing your clothes quickly until you’re naked before him. He knows you really like being naked while he’s mostly clothed, so he keeps his cover alls on, unzipping them and slipping his arms out so he’s only in his white undershirt and the bottoms. He bends you over again, spreading your shaking legs with a booted foot. He wolf whistles when he sees how wet you already are, the thought of doing this in the garage in the middle of the day making you drip.

“Mmm, thought I was gonna have to grab some lube for you baby, but I think I’ll just use some of this pussy juice.” He drags his thumb across your opening and circles your clit as you gasp. He works you for a moment, making you impossibly wetter as you push yourself back into him. He brings his thumb to his mouth and closes his eyes as he savors your taste. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would spend forever tasting you if he could.

“One more taste before the main course,” he grins wickedly to himself. Before you can ask what he means, he drops to his knees and buries his face in your cunt. You screech in surprise, trying to move away when he attacks your clit with his lips only to have him dig his fingers into your hips to keep you from moving. You shake and moan as he slurps at you, getting so close to the edge, but than he’s pulling away.

You whine as he licks his lips, arching your back even further to chase him. He laughs meanly at you, standing and rearranging his clothes so he can pull his thick cock out.

“Poor baby,” he coos, rubbing his cock head against your clit. You turn to say something snarky to him but before you can, he moves his cock to your pussy and bottoms out in one thrust. Your breath is punched out of you and he starts thrusting slowly, just trying to get your juices on his cock. He stays in you balls deep for a moment, as he wipes some of the slick dripping down your legs with his thumb before bringing it up to your unoccupied hole.

“Remember to breathe, baby,” he tells you, rubbing around the ring of muscle with his wet finger. You breath deeply as he pushes it into you, moaning loudly once it’s all the way in. You hear a low ‘fuck’ from Bo as he works his thumb in and out of you. He fuck you open with his thumb, before taking it out and spreading your cheeks.

“You ready, baby girl?” You nod vigorously, just wanting his to fuck you already and he chuckles again at your expense, slowly pulling his cock from your dripping pussy and finally, finally you have him where you want him. He pushes in as slow as he can, wanting to make it easy for you even though every bone in his body says to do otherwise.

You knees give out, and you’re thankful for the table underneath you and Bo’s grip on your ass, otherwise you know you;d have fallen. You fee like you can’t breathe as he bottoms out, gasping for breath as he groans loudly. Then he starts thrusting, and you swear you can feel tears come to your eyes from the overwhelming sensation.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, fucking you faster. “Not gonna last long.” His hips hit yours with every thrust, the sound echoing throughout the garage. You come suddenly, tears streaming down your face as you squirt for the first time. The sensation of your twitching hole causes Bo to reach his end, and he comes deep inside you with a grunt. He pulls his softening cock out slowly, admiring both of your dripping holes with a sleazy grin. He releases your ass to run his hands lovingly down your sides, feeling you shiver as the cool air of the garage hits your sweaty body.

“Well,” he starts wolfishly, caressing you gently. “I learned two new things about you today.”

#birds r us #slashers x reader #slashers #slasher smut #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #house of wax x reader

[circusgoth-dotcom]

Gabriel & Lester

Ship: Gabriel O'Donoghue x Lester Sinclair

Word Count: 631

Summary: How Gabriel and Lester reunited. Also Bo's here too ig. (light-hearted) SHSHSH CWs for smoking mentions, brief food mention, brief sickness mention.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife

Just fifteen more minutes and you can go on lunch. It’ll go by in a jiff. That’s what Gabriel kept telling himself as he tapped his foot anxiously behind the photography counter in the drugstore he worked at. It was muggy and all he wanted to do was open a cold bottle of Pepsi and take a smoke break. It had been a slow day, too. It was noon and he’d only had three customers, two to pick up their developed photos and one dropping off his camera.

He rested his elbows on the slightly sticky counter and hid his face behind his wrists, skewing his glasses. A brief commotion made him look up, spying an oddly familiar man quickly putting back a box of cereal he had knocked over, looking around nervously to ensure he hadn’t been seen.

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’, happens all the time,” Gabriel offered in a comforting tone. The man whipped toward him, scratching at his patchy stubble. In an instant, he rushed over to the counter.

“Don’t I know you???”

Gabriel backed up slightly, his defences immediately raised. He coughed into his fist. “Oh, uhm, I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I mean, just lookin’ at you… I’ll get it, give me a second. I wouldn’t forget a face as pleasant as yours.” The man smiled and Gabriel blushed. “‘Specially because I don’t see a lot of people nowadays… small town things, you know how it is.”

Gabriel continued to study him, and the longer he looked, the more it tugged at him that he indeed knew this man. “Take off your hat.”

“My hat…?” The man shrugged and did as he was told, revealing wispy brown hair, matted down from constantly being tucked under his army-green baseball cap. A soft smile came to Gabriel’s face and a light breath escaped him.

“Well shit, if it isn’t Lester Sinclair.”

Lester pointed excitedly at him as he placed his cap back on his head. “Gabriel O’Donoghue, the preacher’s son! Oh man, look at you… you look happy.”

Gabriel looked away bashfully. “Aw-shucks, Les. It’s been too long, how are your brothers?”

Lester opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by another familiar voice. “I thought I told you to stay in the truck.”

Gabriel looked over, noting the hulking figure of his ex looming around the corner. “Beauregard, what a pleasant reunion,” he greeted coolly. Bo Sinclair stopped in his tracks while his brother looked awkward, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s right, I forgot you two… oh, well, er, I forgot to pick up something, it was nice seein’ you again.” Lester squeezed Gabriel’s hand and speed-walked in the opposite direction. Bo approached the counter as Gabriel checked his watch.

“Of all the places I expected you to turn up, it wasn’t here.”

“I could say the same for you, psh, the three of you disappeared off the map same as me. How’s Vincent?”

Stiffly, Bo raised his basket, which included numerous supplies to restock a home medkit alongside a bottle of allergy medicine. “Sick.”

“Oh, poor lamb. Send him my best wishes.”

“He probably doesn’t remember you.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened, though he wasn’t exactly shocked at Bo’s behaviour. “If you’re trying to get back on my good side, this isn’t how you do it. Lester remembers me, you of course remember me, why wouldn’t Vincent?” Bo scowled and Gabriel’s watch beeped. “Thank God. Bo, if you really want to do me a favour,” he reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet, handing Bo a handful of bills, “get me a pack of Newport Lights and meet me out front, ‘kay?”

Without looking back, Gabriel exited from behind the counter and started for the exit. The bills crumpled in Bo’s large hand.

#q'd #self shipping #self shipping community #safeshipping #self insert #self insert x canon #self x canon #self insert oc #oc x canon #gay self ship #trans self ship #🦌Blessed Les🫀 #🛻Bo Bo Black Sheep🔧 #👁️🎣.s/i #circus scripts

[mutual-monsters]

love or sympathy (but never both)

Pairing: Bo Sinclair x reader

TW: dead dove: do not eat, very dark, kidnapping, The Chair™ and its implications, implied reader death, Bo is Bo, very canon-typical so watch out!

MINORS DNI !!! 🔞

Summary: Reader is kidnapped and stuck in the basement under Bo’s garage. Is there any way out of this?

Word count: 325

A/N: Written for @wndalovebot and their words written by the sea writing challenge. The prompt is in bold (“You actually believed me? Pathetic.”). Very dark, but very typical for the character. Also, Vincent makes an appearance! Yay, Vinny!

Also, I italicized Bo’s lines for some reason??? Who knows 🤦🏻

The title is from this song (because I'm a complete and utter menace).

I also suggest this audio from @slaasherslut to go with this because it's just so 😩

tagging: @ouijaboardemo

Ambrose is a castle of dirt and filth and clandestine atrocities. It’s a ghost town filled with malevolent spirits and men who are husks and homemade dolls and

You should have known better. The perversion should have seeped through your skin the second you set foot in the town and you should have seen through the veil of innocence and you should have at least run from the atrocity and

That’s what you tell yourself all day, every day, stuck, strapped to the chair beneath Beauregard Sinclair’s gas station, waiting for him to come back from whatever the hell he does all day.

And, as the rain slips in from the grate above, you try not to remember what you heard him do to your friends, what he’s done to every other soul who’s passed through the town, the pictures on the wall of the ones before you, and

The music on the stereo above doesn’t mask their screams. All it does is remind you of the fact that he’s at work, that in a few hours, he’ll be bringing you dinner and promising you one day you’ll meet his brothers and one day you “won’t be in that damned chair, you’ll be in the house with the rest of the family, like you should be” and

Do not ask him when he will let you out. He doesn’t plan to. He has no problem replacing you. He’s done it before. He’d have no remorse with the last thing you hear being,

“You actually believed me? Pathetic.”

No one has ever made it out of the basement and Vincent doubts they ever will. He is too scared to stand up to Bo about this. He is too scared to help one escape. All he can do is preserve what is left, and hope Bo will eventually take pity, something he knows his brother was robbed of far too long ago to ever get back now.

#bo sinclair x reader #plus sized reader #gender neutral reader #bo sinclair x you #dead dove do not eat #tw kidnapping #tw murder #tw sa #words written by the sea #writing challenge #writing prompts #dialogue prompts

[voraciousbugz]

Bo Sinclair X Reader (Oneshot(unfinished))

Requested by the lovely and wonderful @charliedawn

Synopsis: In which reader has become very interested in Bos hands, Bo takes notice and teases them.

Reader is g/n. They/Them pronouns will be used.

Warnings: Not many, some language, and innuendos on Bos end.

NOT PROOFREAD.

It was a warm day in Louisiana. Magnolias were in bloom and birds were heard chirping happily overhead. (Y/N) stretched in the porch chair they were sitting in, feeling a few satisfying pops along their spine. Bo had ceased work on his truck to enjoy the early afternoon with them, having stepped inside for a beer and a (favourite drink) for them. (Y/N) relaxed back into the chair as their thoughts began to drift. First about the birds, then about the truck, then about Bo working on said truck. About how his hands expertly moved around wires and valves in the engine. How strong and flexible his hands must be. How they might feel holding their own hand. Their thoughts were interupted by an ice cold beer can touching the back of their neck.

"ACK! GOD DAMMNIT BEAUREGARD!" They jumped out of their chair and turned on the now cackling brunet. He wiped a fake tear from his eye.

"Oh calm down." He handed them their drink. "Its not even that cold!"

"You just pulled in out of the fridge!" They reached for their drink, fingers just brushing his. "Its freezing-" they trailed off. They looked at the drink in their hands, no not at the drink. Bo's hand still holding it their fingers crossed together. His fingers were callused but soft. They felt themselves wanting more of them. But Bo pulled his hand away, and popped the tab on his can. He took a big swig.

"I should get back to work." He gave (Y/N) a small smile. "You're welcome to help if you want!" He took off down the porch steps and headed over to his truck.

(Y/N) took a sip of their drink, their fingers still tingling from the short contact. They sighed wistfully and followed after Bo. The leaned gently against the truck while Bo messed with the engine. He occasionally asked for a tool. (Y/N) handed him the tools and went back to watching his hands. Their mind began to wander again.

They could see the tendons moving under his skin. They wondered what his hands would feel like pressed against their bare sides. Squeezing and tugging at the flesh. Would they be rough with his calluses or soft from the oil?Their face flushed slightly at the thought. Bo held his hand out and asked them something.

"Hm? What?" They shook their head to clear the fog, and looked at his hand.

"I asked for the wrench over there on your left?" He questioned. "Are you alright? You've been pretty distracted today."

"Oh yeah im fine. Just thinking." They picked up the wrench and handed it to him, their hand lingering again. When they pulled away they let their finger brush his palm. He raised an eyebrow but shrugged and continued with the engine. They worked in relative silence for the rest of the afternoon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was getting quite humid when they decided to finally head back inside. Lester was chilling on the couch and Vincent was off in his basement working on an art project. Bo headed off to the kitchen to wash his hands, while (Y/N) plopped themselves down on the couch next to Lester.

Lester could sense the tension and inquired about what was wrong.

"It's just..." They started, wondering if it was okay to tell Lester about the hand fixation they had on his brother. They decided not to, considering their little "problem" was their weird fixation on Bos hands. You shouldn't tell his brothers about that... That's just weird.

"Don't worry about it Les." They assured him. "I'll be fine."

Lester shrugged and began to pet Jonesys head. He then began talking about his day. (Y/N) simply nodded and listened.

Meanwhile Bo was in the kitchen washing his hands. (Y/N) seemed very hyperfocused on them. He had a theory but would need to test it. After he dried them he snuck up the stairs past the couch and grabbed a bottle of Jergens (a top tier lotion btw) and began massaging it into his hands. Once it had all soaked in he made his way back down the stairs rubbing his hands together to warm them up. He turned the corner to see Lester rolling on the floor with Jonesy laughing, while she playfully growled and barked.

(Y/N) sat laughing at their display of affection. Bo walked into the couch pushing them aside and sitting down. He then pulled them onto his lap.

AND THAT'S ALL FOLKS...

I could not bring myself to finish this. I'm sorry to @charliedawn who requested this but I just could not do it. It's been hard trying to get back into writing but I'm not gonna make up excuses for myself other than, I've never been a good writer, in the sense that I just don't like it. I'm sorry again! 😓

#bo sinclair #house of wax #sinclair brothers #slasher x reader #bo sinclair x reader #X Reader #slasher fics

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Do you know what Mardi Gras is? If you do can I get a Bo Sinclair x male reader who's obsessed with Mardi Gras? Because well, I love Mardi Gras. :3

I love this! Of course! Bare with me it’s my first time writing for a male!reader and also I had to do research on Mardi Gras.

Masterlist

Warnings: Food talk and eating

Small Celebration: Bo Sinclair x Male!reader

It’s the middle of the day on a Sunday when you’re cleaning out and organizing some things in the house out of boredom. You stumble across a small stack of photos and decide to go through them. The dates start early February and end the day before Ash Wednesday. Bo, Vincent, and Lester pose with gold, green and purple beads, some of the photos their dad is with them, others their mom is, only one photo where the whole family is together.

You smile and pocket the one where Bo is on his own, a smile plastered on his face. The rest are put back into the old storage box.

-

“Bo.”

“What?”

“You didn’t tell me you used to go to New Orleans to celebrate Mardi Gras.” You say sitting on a desk chair.

“Didn’t think I’d have to. Also we live in fuckin’ Louisiana of course we went.” Bo stops carving the project he’s working on and looks at you.

“Nah don’t pull that ‘yeah no shit’, shit with me. You know I love Mardi Gras! Didn’t tell me any of it. I mean look at you. You’re so happy here.”

You drop the photo in front of Bo and he glimpses at it before rolling his eyes.

“We should celebrate. Even if it’s something small, green, purple, gold, and carnival delights! COME ON BEAUREGARD SINCLAIR!”

You pull Bo’s chair back and turn it so he’s looking up at you. You smile down at him excitedly and lip your top lip, hoping he’ll say yes.

“Fine, can do something small. But I ain’t pickin’ up anything, cleanin’ anythin’ up, or cookin’.” Bo declares. You kiss his lips.

“Oh please Bo, we’d never ask you to cook.”

-

“I ain’t wearin’ this.”

“Yes you are. You never said anything about not wearing a little outfit.”

“It’s ridiculous,”

Bo holds the gold shirt in his hands scowling down at it.

“Come on… rest of us are wearing colors. Sooner you put it on sooner we can drink and eat and party!” You do a little shimmy, making Bo scoff.

“Fine. But don’t ever say I don’t do stuff for you.”

You smile widely and watch as Bo changes into his shirt. He rolls up the sleeves to his elbows and looks in the mirror shaking his head. You throw beads over his head and grab his hand. Music blasts as you head down the stairs and into the kitchen.

The kitchen smells of Jambalaya and Beignets. On the table though lies an already made King Cake and some Red Beans and Rice. You grab a two beers from the fridge, handing one to Bo, he sets a small plate on the table for you already with a slice of cake and he grabs one for himself.

Lester turns and looks at Bo before smirking at you.

“Told you I’d get him to do it.” You say playfully elbowing Lester. “Also I told you that you wouldn’t look ridiculous. Rest of us wore our little outfits too, isn’t that right Vincent!” You poke Bo in the chest like a child and Vincent turns around wearing a different, more colorful mask and a matching purple top to you, while Lester wears a green one. Vincent nods and sets the Jambalaya on the table. He grabs bowls and puts servings into each one. Lester takes the Beignets and puts them on the counter closest to the table, before Bo can grab one Lester smacks his hand lightly.

“After we eat what’s on the table!”

-

Stomachs were stuffed and food was packed away for leftovers. The night quieted down all that was left was you and Bo swaying to music.

“Thanks for letting me do this. Means a lot.” You say, spinning Bo lightly.

“It’s nothin, just knew how much you like Mardi Gras. Talk about it all the time. Next year we can try and make a trip to New Orleans. See some parades, eat our little hearts out yeah?”

Your heart rate picks up and you scrunch your nose trying not to smile, Bo reads right through your excitement so you give up. “Yeah! Let’s do it! You better wear the same outfit too! You look sexy as hell.”

Bo kisses your lips gently. “Shut up… you do too.”

“So you’re gonna wear it?”

“If it makes you happy, then I will.”

“Good”

#bo sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair

[ventiswampwater]

I've been absent from Tumblr for a couple of days and somehow my FYP is full of Sinclair thots??.?? Is this some national holiday?🥶🥶🥶🥶 I have so many that gnawl at my brain at night.

Imagine calling Bo Beauregard for the first time🤐🤐🤐 You're either trying to be serious and have a real conversation with him for the first time since settling in Ambrose (spoiler: this is impossible. He's misogynistic and a firm believer that there's nothing to talk about with girls🩷🩷🩷🩷 he gives off that TikTok vibe "Do girls even have hobbies?" Like bro, drinking bear and crying ain't a hobby either), or you're so exhausted with his neanderthal shenanigans that you just sigh "Beauregard...." while absolutely pissed off and annoyed.

I just KNOW mama Sinclair would call him Beauregard in that no-nonsense tone when he would rip a hole in his dress pants before church , he must have PTSD from hearing his own freaking name. He's so used to being just Bo, that the only times he even acknowledges his full name are when he's either being scolded by his parents or when he's arrested and sees it on the paperwork.

So yeah, long story short I doubt he'd be amused by anyone calling him Beauregard. RIP MC.

*bonus crack thought* I remember talking here with someone about how Fucking Funny™ would it be to call Bo Robert. I'm not a native English speaker and I honestly never heard of the name Beauregard before😭😭😭 I just assumed Bo is like Bob, which is Robert😂😂😂😂 I'd get smacked on the head with a wrench for trying to be cute and calling him Robert. End scene

omg jhdsjhfjd not the fyp being inundated w/my dumbassery 💀

I lowkey felt like I was spamming the dash last night. BUT idk what came over me, I've had a couple days off work and I'm in a chatty mood hjhdsjahjhsdjh like. I just wanna TALK about this goofy ass movie?? **note to all the poor souls that might be following me rn: pls feel free to block the tag "sinclair brainrot hours" if u would like to save urself from my shenanigans**

this ask is killin me dshjhdfsjhj DRINKING BEER AND CRYING AIN'T A HOBBY BOY

I'm unfortunately part of the Anti-Beauregard Sinclair Hater Nation. I am, after all, the graphic designer responsible for THIS abomination:

context for this can be found here, with poki's galactic big brain take

I also love this take on what his real actual name is 🐔🧊

I just CANNOT buy this guy as a beauregard hdjhdfjh I simply cannot

HOWEVER. I do this thing w/ppl I'm fond of where I'll lengthen their names in ridiculous ways. like just add in entire syllables and letters that just. wholly don't exist. and I could see one of two situations playing out w/bing bong

scenario one: u drop a "beauregard" out of the blue one day. maybe you're trying to be cute. maybe you're trying to piss him off. he looks over @ u. crinkles his brow and gives u the bitchest lil expression. u best be glad u make good pork chops, WOMAN. bc u can't even remember his NAME. who tf u think ur talkin to??? one of ur fancy shmancy city boys?? get outta here!! just grumblin' around the living room abt how if u want some prissy ass boy w/a genteel ass name like that, his brother's right downstairs grumble grumble mutter mutter

scenario two:

he's been slurpin up that good ambrose moonshine (some crazy ass shit that comes in a jug w/x's on it. u know the one. lester labeled it as "ambrosia" and walks around saying it's the "fruit of the gods" and slappin his knee. bo has no fuckin' idea what he's saying.) and despite his high tolerance, boy's a bit sloshed. so are u. u drunkenly crawl into his lap and call him beauregard. he thinks this is v heehaw funny. whatchu think I am girl?? some kinda royalty?? that pretty lil head of urs is all kindsa messed up!! figure I AM like a king here hehehehehe

both equally as annoying😔

#if his name is short for anything it SHOULD be ROBERT dhfjhdfsj BOB SINCLAIR the DUNGEON DOM #dumbass idiot man (endearingly) (sweetly) (chasin him w/an axe) #asks #lanamiller #sinclair brainrot hours

[small-sinclair]

Rings and Keeps

@fluffy-little-demon and @sketchy-rosewitch, I give you, your husband—

Bo Sinclair x reader

“Are you sure you haven’t seen him in the shop?”

“Sorry, y/n,” Lester said over the phone. “Haven’t seen Bo all day. Promise.”

You sighed tiredly and said, “Okay, Les. Call back if you hear from him.” You hung up and looked nervously at the front door again. It’s not like your fiancé to up and leave Ambrose without telling anyone, let alone, not tell you. So, why’d he left? What made him up and leave?

Is he getting milk and cigarettes like my dad did? You thought jokingly to yourself, but that didn’t help you at all.

Still, dinner had to be finished and put away. You didn’t want to eat without him, and you felt too nervous with him gone. So, you started pacing to keep your mind off things. Back and forth in the house you tried to keep your thoughts on something else. Baseball. Football. Weather. Vincent. Lester and his raccoon army (don’t tell the twins). Bo’s ass— but noting. You flopped down on the couch and hugged a throw pillow as you looked at the door.

Maybe he doesn’t love me? Maybe he up and left to figure out the best way to kill me?

“No, don’t think about that,” you told yourself in a whisper. “Bo’s fine. He might be getting something.”

When 10:30 struck on the clock, Bo’s truck lights lit up the front of the living room, but you were already asleep, cuddling Bo’s sweatshirt, when he walked in the house. He bit his lower lip nervously as his eyes found you sleeping on the sofa. Quietly, he took off his jacket and hung his hat next to a picture him and you, where he’s hugging you from behind and your laughing in the summer’s glow. Vincent took this gem and had it framed next to his hook on purpose, but Bo’s not one for complaining. It just reminds him what his aching arms are for when he comes home to you, to his beloved.

He kneels in front of you and kisses you gently to wake you up. “Sweetheart,” he drawled tiredly. “‘M home.”

He watched your sleepy eyes flutter open as he thumbed your cheek. “Bo? Where have you been?” Your voice is so soft and tired it reminds him of a kitten.

“Was gettin’ somethin’,” he hummed.

“What?”

“Gimme your right hand.”

You do as your told and showed him your hand. He digs into his pocket and pulls out a little black box. Your eyes brighten as he slipped on a simple silver ring with a small white diamond in the center. “It ain’t much,” he started, “but I thought ya need somethin’ better than ‘at paper ring.”

“Bo,” you sigh, getting a better look at it. “You didn’t—“

“Hush,” he said. “I wanna do something right for ya. So, I, well…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I sold the ‘86 Dodge.”

“But,” you sat up and held his cheeks. He rested into your touch and closed his eyes. “But that’s your baby!”

He shrugs. “I know, y/n, I know, but,” he kissed your palm, “I wanna to do something good for you. Somethin’ right.” He leaned back and took your hands. “I wanna to give ya somethin’ better than Mama’s ring. Shit,” he eyes shines as he looks up to meet your eyes, “when I saw ya looking at that ring the other day, I knew I had to get it for ya because…” his voice trails as his head fell. “I’m afraid to lose you. I have so much blood on my hands, so how? How can you even stand me? Let alone, love me?” You’ve never heard him talk like this before, and this side of trust was so valuable that you felt like he was glass waiting to shatter. “Just wanted to do something right for once.”

Your shoulders fell, and you pulled Bo into your chest, rubbing his back. “That’s why you’ve been nervous lately,” you sighed. “Beauregard, I love you no matter how bloody your hands get.” You curled your fingers through his hair. “And I love this ring because you got it for me.” You lifted his head and kisses his lips. “You never have to worry about me not loving you. I’ll always love you.”

Bo smiles and lays a kiss on your neck. “Even if I lose control?”

“Even if you lose control,” you reassured. Then your face turned serious. “But, promise me one thing?”

“Anything, y/n.”

You looked at him dead in the eye and said, “Don’t sell the T-Bird? I love that car.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Promise, darlin’. I’m keeping that like I’m keeping you.” He placed a passionate kiss on your lips, rocking into you. “Now, on t’bed, sugar,” his voice rumbled like thunder in his chest, “been missing you all day.” He pulls you up and carries you bridal style. “Lemme make up for leavin’ ya alone like that.”

#bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax (2005) #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax fanfic #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair fluff #bo sinclair fic #bo sinclair fanfic #house of wax x reader #house of wax x y/n #house of wax x you #bo house of wax #bo sinclair house of wax #slasher #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic

[xslashers]

Bo Sinclair | Randoms HCS

Bo Sinclair X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: crack, angst, murder, fluff, hurt/comfort, sadistic reader, cursing, mentioned smut, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1,615

—

• This man is an asshole, we all know it, but when it comes to you? Complete teddy bear. Lester & Vince would tease him about it if they knew he wouldn’t kill ‘em.

• You’re the ONLY person who is allowed to tell him what to do.

• But only sometimes, if he thinks what you’re saying is dumb, he’ll completely ignore you altogether.

• Anyway, you’re his comfort person. Even if he doesn’t like it, you’re the only person he can talk to about person issues.

• It took a long while for both of you to make it to this point in your relationship. Bo had to make sure you were here for the long run.

• Although Bo doesn’t really show it in normal ways, he cares a lot for his brothers.

• One day, some people decide to cross through Ambrose. You were playing your role as the friendly neighbor, when you heard someone shouting.

“You stupid fucking redneck prick! Do you even know what the fuck you’re doing?” You turned, immediately figuring out it was coming from the gas station. So you made your way towards the, what sounds like, a mess. “Hey, hey! What’s the problem here?” You’re voice was soothing. “This dumb, illiterate fuck doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” Surely they weren’t talking about your Bo.  You noticed the man was standing further away from his two friends, and you slyly made your way over, “Oh yeah?” Bo grunted, seemingly trying to tell you to ‘back the hell up.’ But your hand was quicker than even he expected.  Your little dagger made home in this guy’s throat faster than he could get another word out. You pulled your hand forward ripping the knife out of his throat horizontally, some gooey throat shit coming out with it. You looked completely unbothered by this. You kicked out his knees, watching him fall to the ground, blood splattering all over you, having stabbed through his carotid artery. The other two from the group screamed in horror, Bo took this as a chance to attack the other guy, while you went after the girl.  You snickered to yourself cruelly as you chased after her, she truly thought she could get away. Before she got far, she tripped, probably twisting her ankle. How lucky. You made quick work of her, slitting her throat and bashing her head into the ground just to be sure. You stood up and turned around, making eye contact with Bo. “Are you okay?” You asked him, ignoring the 3 bleeding bodies as you made your way towards him. “You’re askin’ if I’m okay?” He laughed out. You just shrugged, “Yeah?” Like you didn’t just kill two people for him. “Are you okay?” He asked, placing his hands on your cheek, trying to smear the blood off. “Well,” you started. “Blood isn’t mine.” You smiled up at him. “Are you okay mentally?” He raised his eyebrows. You glared at him, bringing your hands up to rest on his shoulders, “Not really, but that’s pretty normal for me, honestly.” You reassured him. “C’mon, lets go get you cleaned up.” He said, taking your hand and leading you out of the gas station. He decided a hot shower would be the best for both of you. “Why’d you do it? I know you don’t like gettin’ your hands dirty.” He asked quietly, while wiping the dried blood off of your body with a wash cloth. “Honestly?” Your eyes dare not leave his form. “I’d do anything for you Beauregard Sinclair.” He snorted, pinching your thigh for using his full name, but he believed you.

• That was when he realized you weren’t going anywhere.

• He’d never admit it, but he loves it when you play with his hair.

• He becomes boneless when you cuddle him and take care of him, he just loves you a lot.

• He’s not used to being babied, but goddamnit does he love it. He gets SO red, it’s adorable.

• Flustered Bo is the cutest thing in entire world and I WILL die on this hill.

• It’s been more than two year, and yet he still gets flustered when you flirt back with him, and even start on him with your dumb pick up lines and jokes.

• It took him a while to say ‘I love you’ back, but you say it AT LEAST 20 times a day.

• He doesn’t say it back sometimes, but you know it’s hard, and you know he loves you.

• But by golly the first time he said it back, you didn’t make a big deal outta it but you were over the moon.

• You honestly can’t cook either, But Bo cooks for just the two of you and calls ‘em dates. It warms your little heart.

• You two have the same taste in music, and you really wanna take him to a concert one day.

• You have really good relationships with both Vincent & Lester, it makes Bo so happy. He may never admit it out loud though.

• When Lester is in Ambrose, it’s hell for both Bo and Vince, you two together are so annoying.

• You two would do something ‘n then Bo would scold y’all like children, while you and Lester are holding back laughter.

• Your healthy relationships with his brothers are so very important to him.

• He loves going on random drives with you.

• You make him drive you to town just to buy stupid little things and he can’t even say that he hates it because you hold his hand and drag him through isles of an actual gas station and he fuckin’ loves it.

• He definitely steals stuff for you, even though you told him not to.

• You buy stuff for him, he steals stuff for you, the perfect match.

• He can definitely get super grouchy sometimes, but all you gotta do is give him ‘the look’ and he straightens his fine ass up real quick.

• He’s such a prick sometimes, and he knows you can’t stand it, so when he’s mad at you it’s 10x worse.

• He KNOWS how to push all your buttons, and you know how to push all of his.

• It’s a very dangerous game.

• It either ends in hurt feelings and meaningful apologies, or rough angry sex.

• If it does end in hurt feelings and meaningful apologies, then you get slow hot passionate sex. :D

• Although sometimes Bo just wants slow, soft, comforting, sex. :(

• Bo has a bad day? Comfort Sex. You feelin’ down? Comfort Sex.

• Bo likes to take care of you, and vice versa!

• You’ll make your way to the gas station where he’s workin’ and hit him with the “teach me how to work on cars.” And he gets so excited, it’s so cute. :(

• You actually learn a decent amount! It’s hard though cause he’s so pretty and you get caught staring an embarrassing amount, and he gets so cocky & smug, but at the same time very flustered.

• But you’re 100% sure you could fix up a car all by yourself and Bo is so proud.

• He ‘tests’ you one day with a broken down, former victims, car.

• Both of you get so excited and hype after you finally fix it, ‘n get it up and runnin’.

• Y’all can bet you take that baby for a joyride and blast Bo’s CDs.

• Mans has such a good taste in music.

• It’s even funnier cause you both had the same taste in music before you got together.

• When he found out, he fell just a bit more in love with you, if that was even possible.

• Bo LOVES cuddling, you didn’t hear it from me.

• But the fact that you feel safe in his arms…

• And God, don’t even get me started about how safe he feels in YOUR arms

• You’ve both came so far and your both tremendously proud of each other.

• Sometimes, after Bo’s had a hard day, he’ll just come and plop down into your arms.

• Most of the time, he doesn’t like talking about it, but sometimes he does and- :(

• You just hold him and never let go.

• Though, sometimes you like to bake your sadness away.

• As in Bo cooks for the both of you whilst you amuse him enough to convince him to let you lick the spoon.

• If you’re in his way, you’re kicked out of the kitchen entirely. Or just stop altogether.

“You’re in my way darlin’”  “Then move me.”

• And he will move you right on top of the counter, he doesn’t care.

• But then y’all go back to cooking right after.

• You have him narrate everything he’s doing, whenever he actually indulges you and does it, it’s great but usually..

“So what are you doing?” You knew what he was doing, you just wanted to hear his voice.  “Well I’m making cookies, obviously.” He deadpans.  You rolled your eyes, “thank you for that, captain obvious.”

• Sometimes vince will come in and narrate what he’s doing in sign.

• It keeps both of you quiet, so Bo doesn’t care, some would even say he enjoys both of you being in his presence.

• He makes the BEST cookies ever

• One time caught you wearing a pair of his overalls, which were way too big on you.

• And your soul left your body when he saw you, but he thought it was the cutest shit ever.

• You steal his shirts all the time and he loves it so much, every time he sees you got one of his shirts on, he can’t help the smile on his face each time he looks at you.

• He would literally die for you, he loves you so much

• You would do the same for him.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader fluff #bo sinclair x reader smut #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair fluff #slasher #slasher x reader #slasher x reader smut #slasher x reader fluff #house of wax

[glitchstoxicwaste]

CONGRATS ON 300!!! 🎉 I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!

seriously tho, that’s an amazing achievement! you really do deserve it, you’re very talented! i’m excited to see you grow even more!

for the prompts, may i request 8. “Hehehe ow haha” for bo & vincent? poly (not incest) or separate, either or is okay!

thank you so much and once again, congratulations! ♥️

I just put on makeup and I’m about to cry-

Thank you so much! I can’t wait to grow more because of all of you!! You all made this happen!!! 🤍🖤

Slashers | Prompts

Prompt #8: “Hehehe ow haha”

Bo Sinclair x Reader

Vincent Sinclair x Reader

TW: Reader gets hurt

↓Continue under the cut!↓

Bo Sinclair!

It was a Norman day in Ambrose, hot as hell, no new visitors, just you and Bo in the garage. You were helping him with his truck, and by that I mean you’re handing him the tools he asks for, and sometimes has to explain what it looks like in detail, possibly more than once.

He had his truck suspended by an old rusty carjack that squeaks every time you pump the handle. He had gone to the opposite side of you and asked you to hand him something, you grabbed the tool from the box behind you and bent over the car to hand it to him, adding extra pressure to the already unstable carjack.

Squeak

Snap

Clank

CRUNCH

Bo had jumped back, startled by the carjack bending, breaking, and the truck falling. He chuckled nervously and looked up at you, a confused expression covered his face as he saw you shaking a little.

“Hehehe ow haha.”

He looked under the car and saw your foot directly under the tire. Panic shot through him and he tried to lift the car up with his strength.

“Bo”

He tried harder, his fingers getting cut from the metal digging harsh into his skin.

“Bo!”

He squat down, hooking his palms under the front and tried to pick it up that way, his back cracked and he groaned but never gave up.

“BEAUREGARD SINCLAIR!”

His breathing hitched as he glared at you, anger rushing though his veins at the sound of his first name rushing off your tongue like his mother used to.

“Finally! Stop trying to become the Hulk, get your damn tow truck, and lift the car up slowly.”

His eyebrow rose.

“How do ya know so much ‘bout this? How’re ya so calm?”

You smirk and cross your arms.

“Bo, babe, if this was the first time my foot got crushed by something, I’d be crying and screaming from a pain I never felt before.”

He shook his head and left for the tow truck, a fond smile gracing his features.

Vincent Sinclair!

You and Vin were in the basement, he was showing you how he put the bodies in positions to be covered in wax.

You watched in awe at how careful and delicate he was, the intricate things that you would have easily overlooked, the way his hands smooth over areas and hush the faint screams of the victim laying still.

He motioned for you to mix the wax to keep it all melted and even, and so you did, placing your hands on the hot metal ladle that was sitting in the wax.

Tss

The sound of something simmering and the scent of burning flesh filled the room quickly as you jerked your hand away from the large spoon.

“Hehehe ow haha.”

Vincent put the tools down and walked up to you, grabbed your hand, and looked at you, his teal eyes swimming with fear and dread.

“Vinny, baby, it’s just a small burn, I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head, lifting up the hand to show your entire hand now a bubbling blister, throbbing with pain and lingering heat.

He took you to the sink and ran cold water on it, your hand cooling down slightly.

He nuzzled his masked face into your neck, regretting asking you to stir the wax, forgetting to tell you to put on gloves beforehand. The smell of your cooking flesh will haunt him forever.

#slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x you #slashers x reader #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slasher #slasher fucker #slasher x s/o #slashers #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader