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slasherstories123 · 8 months

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Think you can write where The female S/O dates Bo Sinclair, while being aware that Vincent was mesmerized by his twin brother's S/O girlfriend? She was sweet and kind to Vincent, but when she saw how cruel and heartless Bo was with his brother, and calling him a freak. When she stood up to Bo, he breaks up with her. Then near the end that Vincent actually gets a chance with the S/O that he loved. The S/O would be very complementive of his artwork

New beginning

Word count: 1.1k

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @mrs-heelshire @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @beel-mcburger @slasherscrybaby @sadskies @bunnysenpai31 @emychan @pink-apollo @misscaller06 @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @charliedawn

You and Bo have been dating only for a few months, but you paid attention to his twin's eyes in the back. Always watching, practically mesmerized by you. He wanted you, but Bo got to you instead, even then, you still treated Vincent the same. Always tending to his wounds during a bad fight with a victim and just caring for him in general. You always thought they were the complete opposite on many levels. You didn’t mind, until Bo would become more cold hearted towards his own brother. Always calling him names and makes him feel more bad than he already does. It pained you to see him like this, but you never said anything,not feeling like getting yelled at, secretly comforting Vincent when you had the chance. You never wanted him to feel bad, even apologizing for Bo’s actions to the man.

Vincent forgave you, always telling you it’s not your fault, that’s just how he is, and he’ll always be like that. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. How can he be so flirty towards you but turn around and treat his brother like trash. His family. You hated it, even if you did try to talk about it he’d blow a fuse thinking you’re just taking his side. Which is half true. Vincent always works hard in taking care of victims, always cooped up in the basement and getting hurt when victims come, he deserves to be treated fairly, just like Bo.

One night, you’ve had enough. Bo's loud voice nearly shook the house as he yelled at his brother for coming back home late.It was bad enough he was in a bad mood due to a victim hurting his arm. You rubbed your temple to try and calm yourself down, hating it when he yelled, wondering how he doesn’t get sore throats. Each word that came out of his mouth was painful, even you could feel it, seeing Vincent sulk his head in shame.

The next words that came out of his mouth made you freeze. “You’re nothing but a freak! Get the hell out of my sight!” You stood up from your chair and slapped Bo dead in his face, causing his baseball cap to fall off. The slap caught the attention of both men. He looked at you in shock, but it quickly turned into anger. “The hell you do that for?” He yelled.

Even Vincent was shocked himself, but still stayed in the near corner. “Are you fucking serious Bo? That’s your brother! Your TWIN brother! Besides Lester and I, he’s all you have! You can’t treat him like dirt!” The angry man turned to you, yelling at you now. Vincent wanted to stay, but he decided not to, slowly sliding away and going down to his basement. You kept going at each other's throats, almost like a yelling contest, seeing who could be louder. You stood up for Vincent until the end, cursing at bo, saying how horrible of a brother he is to Vincent.

“He’s your BROTHER Bo!”

“Yeah? So what if the freaks my brother?”

“Your words can affect him! Don’t you realize that?!”

“Well if you like the freak so bad then go be with him then! This stupid relationship is over!”

He yelled in your face before storming off, door slamming behind him. You leaned against the table. Sitting down in the chair, body shaking due to too many emotions now coming at you: Anger, sadness, guilt, remorse. You had your face in your arms, tears of frustration built up in your eyes. Bo’s words cut deep, even to you, and he barely said anything to you, but it still hurt, hurts to know that he broke up with you because you decided to stick up for Vincent, it meant nothing,just wanting him to treat his brother fairley, like he’s a human being.

You never questioned why Vincent wears his mask, but you know it’s something personal and that Bo of all people should respect that, but he didn’t, and now you’re caught in this mess. You don’t regret sticking up for him though. It was worth it. But now you’d slowly have to put yourself back together. Despite Bo being a jerk to his brother.. He was still somewhat charming, but you still chose him, Vincent always watched you from afar, admired you, sometimes you think he was sad that you chose Bo over him. Sometimes, you even wonder what you see in him to make you fall in love with him. A soft tap of a shoulder caused you to flinch, picking your head up, it was just Vincent. He had a sketchbook in his hands. Sitting by you, he saw a tear escape your eyes. Slowly raising his hand to wipe it away, you smiled at the gesture.

“I’m.. so sorry you had to hear that..” The man shook his head in response, gently taking your hand with his soft ones. Guiding you to his basement, you didn’t have the strength to even say no. Letting him guide you to his area. It was clean, everything organized. The smell of vanilla candles filled the air, it was comforting. You sat in a chair next to an empty one where he sits by his desk. Vincent eventually sat down. Fiddling with a few pages with the sketchbook. He turned to a certain one, you leaned by his shoulder to look. It was you.

You knew Vincent was good with art, but you never knew how good he can look at your features in his drawings. Even showing little dates of when the art was completed. You were mesmerized yourself, it probably took him hours to make them, realizing that he had thoughts of you. He always had. Despite you being with Bo he stood around. He let you look, there were times you were completely doing nothing, he still drew you like you were the most perfect woman he’s ever laid eyes on. Not missing any sort of detail in your features.

It made you feel a certain way, despite you crying your eyes out a few minutes ago. “Thank you..Vincent. I love it. I love them all. You’re always so talented..” He loved it when you complimented his work, since he works so hard on them. You can’t help but admire his work, the time and effort he puts into each drawing, each sculpture, each painting, but he drew you, his sketchbook was filled with you. You felt at peace down in the basement with him, you always did, but this time it was different.

You felt comforted. Safe. Resting your head on his shoulder, feeling his hand hold yours, rubbing the back of it. Maybe being with Vincent was the best choice from the beginning. You’ll be happier with the man. A new beginning.

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aalyssah · 1 year

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Change

Pairing: Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, and Fluff!

Word Count: 1,461

Summary: Lester and Vincent hate seeing you and Bo mad at each other, so they help fix your relationship.

Bold Italics are flashbacks from argument.

A/N: I didn’t want this to be so long, but it happens. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want too. Hope You Enjoy!

You sat all alone in the dark in the basement. This was really the only quiet place you could get to when living with the Sinclair Family.

After a huge argument with your boyfriend, Bo, you just needed that quiet and alone time. The argument was something stupid honestly. It all started when a victim came along.

The guy was stubborn and not trusting Lester, so you had to step up. You had to flirt with them in order to earn their trust, but Bo did not like that at all. And he made sure that you knew.

The moment you came through the door, Bo was in your face, yelling at you. He was saying how you were flirting with the guy and how you were twirling your hair in your finger while looking up at him with doe eyes.

Bo hated it. He hated the fact of you flirting with another man. He didn't even want to think of you with anyone else, but him. In the argument you said that he was possessive and that's when it led to name calling.

"Well maybe if you weren't flirting with men like a whore, I wouldn't be so possessive!"

Thoughts come through your mind as you rethink about that night. It's been 4 days and you can't sleep, you can't eat, without knowing what was said.

"Oh I'm a whore? Well if you don't like whores then don’t date me!"

"Fine, I won't. We're done! I don't need you!"

Those 3 words crushed you deeply. Although Bo is rude, you would've never thought he would say something like that. When you first met him, you thought you could change him.

You thought you could make him see light and you did, but doing that means you see other parts of him. Parts that he wished you never saw.

The family watched as they saw the shift in Bo's attitude. The way he would cuss Lester out for laughing too loud, or when Vincent would be upstairs because he wanted to give you your time down there. Little things would piss him off.

He was so tense, it was like every time he walked into a room, tension would rise. No one has ever seen him act this way before. You have never left the basement since that night.

The only people who would come and check up on you were Vincent and Lester. Lester would try to cheer you up, but nothing worked. Vincent on the other hand didn't know what to do.

Never in a million years did the both of them think Bo would get a girlfriend. Especially someone like you.

"Come on, Y/n. You need to eat. It's been 4 days!" Lester said beside you, pushing a plate of food near you. You didn't even look at it. With a huffed of defeat, he got up and walked upstairs to Vincent.

"She won't budge. Didn't even look at me." Vincent only shook his head. They both sat there trying to think of a plan. "Oh! I have an idea!" Lester's loud yelling made Vincent listen closely.

"So, you blindfold Y/n and try to convince her to come with you. If that works I should get Bo to come with me and we meet them up on a blind date. And this will all be in the basement so we'll lock it so they can't escape."

Vincent thought about it for a moment and nodded his head. It wasn't gonna be that bad. The only bad thing was trying to talk to Bo. "Okay, but before we do it, I gotta go get flowers." Lester took off outside with car keys in hand, before driving off to the nearest store. This was gonna be good.

Lester fixed the positioning of the flower on the table. "Alright, bring Y/n in and I'll try to get Bo." Vincent walked out and guided you to the table while Lester went to Bo's room.

He took a deep breath before knocking. "What!" Lester jumped at Bo's booming voice. "I need help with something, can you come out?" Lester could hear the grumbling of Bo from behind the door. "Why don't you ask Vincent for help?"

You could hear the slight annoyance in his voice. "Because he's too busy dealing with the mess you made of Y/n, so come out here and help me!" Bo's footsteps were loud as he made his way to the door. It swung open with so much force. "What is it-"

Before Bo could even finish his sentence, Lester launched at him, pulling the blindfold over his eyes. "What the-Lester- What are you doing?!" Lester fought for his life trying to get the blindfold over his eyes. After almost being thrown it was finally on.

"Stay still!" Lester had Bo in a headlock, on the ground. Finally after a while Bo stopped. "There you go. You can listen!" Bo only mumbled something under his mouth. "Listen, you're gonna follow me unless you wanna fall down the stairs."

Stairs? Why would there be stairs? Bo didn't ask any questions, the curiosity coming to him. Luckily, with no trouble, Lester was able to bring him downstairs and sit him at the table.

Lester did a silent countdown at Vincent before ripping the blindfolds off you both. "Surprise!" You and Bo instantly locked eyes. It was awkward and you hated it. "Lester what the-" Lester and Vincent ran up the stairs. "You two will have dinner like a couple. Until then, y'all will not be let out!" With that being said the door closed.

Bo was first to get up and try to open the door. "That motherfucker locked me in." You heard him grunt under his breath. The fact that he wanted to get out and not talk to you hurts. "Bo, sit down." Bo turned around and stared at you.

You sounded so broken, voice hoarse, and raspy from no eating or drinking anything for so long. Bo walked back to the chair and sat down. You picked at the food on your plate.

The silence in the room was awkward as the only thing heard was the forks hitting the plates. You couldn't take it anymore. "What's happening with us?" Bo didn't look at you. "What do you mean?" You only sighed, dropping the fork down. "All these non stop arguments. It's like we can't be a couple for more than 5 hours until another argument is starting up."

Bo stayed silent, knowing that you were right. If there was one thing about Bo it's that he always thinks he is right. "I just want to know where we're going with this relationship. If you really don't want me than say that because I can't keep going on like this."

Bo finally made eye contact with you and that's when you saw it. He looked so drained and tired. Dark eye bags under his eyes, bloodshot eyes from either crying or drinking, face dirty, and he was wearing the same clothes from that night. He wasn't doing so good either.

"Y/n, I haven’t slept in 4 days, I haven’t eaten, I haven’t even taken off my clothes, I can’t be without you.” The way he spoke was something you haven’t heard before. He spoke with so much emotion.

“I can’t live without you.” Even though you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t because what happens when you guys get into another argument? “How do I know you're telling the truth? You were living just fine before you met me.”

Bo was going insane at how stubborn you were acting, but at the same time, he acted the same way. “Look at me Y/n! Look at me and tell me I’m lying! Compare me to how I was before we argued!” All the points he made were sticking out.

You rubbed your hands over your face. “Okay, alright. I believe you.” For the first time in days, a smile rose in Bo’s face. He was somewhat happy that y’all’s relationship was getting together. “Just tell me one thing Bo.” Bo waited for you to continue, ready to agree to anything.

“Tell me you’re gonna change. Tell me you’re gonna stop acting so possessive and controlling and you're gonna treat me like a woman and not a child who keeps me in this house all day.” Bo gripped his pants till his fingertips turned white.

He really didn’t want to say it, but he was realizing what he needed to do. He stood up and walked to your side, helping you up before pulling you in a hug.

“I’m gonna change. I’ll change for you if that means it will save this relationship.”

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair angst #bo sinclair fluff #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x female reader #bo sinclair smut #slasher x reader #slasher smut

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hanighul · 2 years

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🩸 Goretober Day 1: Nosebleed 🩸

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a-writer-on-elm-street · 1 year

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What Are We?

pairing: bo x gn!reader

summary: when bo starts to question your relationship, you're both forced to confront your feelings for one another

warnings: smut, oral sex (m receiving), angst (with a happy ending...sort of), soft bo (sort of), bo might also be slightly out of character

a/n: i apologise in advance for what you're about to read...cos this one kinda hurt

word count: 1171

"What are we?"

"What?" You rolled over to find Bo staring at you, his brows pulled together in concentration as he laid with his head propped up in his hand.

"What are we?" He asked again, a little more urgency in his tone now.

You pressed your lips together, taking a moment to think about his question.

The first time you'd met Bo, it was when you stumbled into town, having no prior knowledge to what usually went on here. Your shitty old car had broken down and Lester had been kind enough to give you a ride into town.

The second you saw him you knew you were in trouble. When he smiled, your heart skipped a beat and when he reached up to adjust the worn cap on his head, your skin seemed to come alight. You wanted him.

Bo wanted you too, except at first, it was in a different way.

It wasn't long before he was dragging you into his basement, your broken down car long forgotten at that point, and he kept you there for the next three weeks.

You should've hated him, or at the very least been scared of him. But maybe you were just fucked in the head, because you couldn't seem to find it in you to fear this man, despite everything he'd done to you. It was an odd feeling to say the least.

Now, you felt even more odd as you laid in bed with him, his fingers absent-mindedly stroking your arm like he hadn't previously been your kidnapper.

And he was asking you something you had never dreamed would ever come out of his mouth, because what were you? Lovers? Friends? Were you in a relationship?

"I don't know what we are." You finally answered, a feeling of sadness spreading in your chest as you took in his expression.

His usual scowl seemed to melt into a frown as he looked at you, something resembling disappointment in his eyes. "Well...how do you feel about me?"

You noticed him cringe slightly as he said that. Feelings weren't exactly his favourite thing to talk about.

You smiled, mostly from amusement, as you shifted closer to him in the bed. "I like you, is that what you wanna hear?"

He simply pressed his mouth into a line as he thought about it, all the while you were slowly moving closer to him, your fingers skating along his jaw as you leaned towards him.

But he was quick to stop you, his fingers curling around your wrist as he pried you off of him. "Don't."

And that single word was what sent your whole world off balance, because Bo was never like this. "Do you really care what we are to each other?"

He scoffed at you then, his signature scowl returning to his face. "No. I was just thinking about it, that's all. Don't mean I care."

He rolled over then, letting you stare at his back whilst you mulled over his question in your head. You'd always thought your relationship with him was strictly sexual, never involving anything more than casual feelings, but it seemed that that might not have been the case.

As much as you'd like to tell him that you two were merely just friends who had sex sometimes, you knew for a fact that wasn't true. For a few months now, you'd noticed your feelings becoming a little deeper than simply casual. You just couldn't figure out exactly what he meant to you.

You reached towards him then, gently running your fingers down his back.

He didn't react, he simply remained where he was, his back still to you as he kept silent.

"I love you, Bo." You finally said, your heart clenching in your chest at the words. "I have for a while."

He turned around then, the hard look on his face softening. "Yeah?"

You smiled. "Yeah."

Although you weren't entirely sure if that was the truth, you hoped it was.

Before anything else could be said between you, you reached a hand towards his face, pulling him towards you so you could press a tender kiss to his lips.

"Say it again." He mumbled as you began trailing your lips down his throat.

"I love you." You sighed into his skin, heat already beginning to pool between your thighs. "I love you."

You were practically chanting the words as you continued to make your way down his body, eventually pausing when you reached the hem of his shirt.

You cast a quick glance to him before pushing the dark material up his body, letting him remove the clothing completely as he lifted it over his head, discarding it somewhere on the floor.

"Fuck, I love you." You muttered again, your fingers already hooking underneath the waistband of his boxers, eagerly tugging them down his legs.

"I love you so much." You said again, your voice dripping with desperation as you wrapped a hand around his length, making his hips jerk off the bed slightly.

Bo let out a guttural moan when you finally closed your mouth over his tip, wasting no time in taking him further.

You loved when he let you take control like this, when he let you show him just how much you cared for him. And from the sounds spilling from his mouth right now, it seemed he loved it too.

You felt him slide his hand over the back of your head, his fingers tightly gripping onto your hair as you started to bob your head up and down on his cock.

And whilst you were enjoying the fact that it was you who was coaxing the desperate moans out of him, you also found it relieving that you didn't have to speak anymore, because you still didn't know if you actually loved him. But you wanted to.

You continued your movements over him, causing quiet moans to keep slipping from his mouth as he gripped the back of your head, and after a while you could tell he was close.

Tears were starting to burn your eyes and saliva was running down your chin, and you had never felt more alive than you did in this moment. So what if you didn't love him yet, he still managed to light your whole body on fire whenever you were together like this. That was what mattered to you.

"Oh fuck." You heard him groan, his grip on your hair becoming painful now as he started to thrust into your mouth. "That's it. Come on."

After a few more hard thrusts into your mouth, you finally felt him go rigid beneath you, his warm release spilling over your tongue. And once he was spent, you pulled off of him, swallowing hard as you crawled back up the bed.

You both laid side by side, not touching, the sound of heavy breathing filling the room. And then he said "I love you."

And you had never felt more broken.

[Main Masterlist] [Bo Masterlist]

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair angst #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x gn reader #bo sinclair oneshot #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair x you #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax fanfic #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax smut #brian van holt

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ahmnom · 1 year

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Hc that growing up Bo rebelled against his mom and actually didn’t like her that much. I still think he was afraid of her but I think he’d make comments about her behind her back that were well deserved. Maybe what changed his mind to worship her was the fear he got when she started to lose her mind. Maybe the screams of agony from her solidified that she wasn’t gonna make this one and he felt he had a lot of repenting to do. Maybe all the trauma and feelings of being the bad twin came up to a certain point where he broke. Trudys verbal abuse along the way couldn’t have helped. I think he saw his mother as authority growing up but dealing with Trudy when she started to lose control probably forced him to see her as a god. As someone who “took care” (and I use that loosely) of him. He was probably taught growing up that his parents where always right and that family is the only thing that matters so it makes sense that the trauma of seeing Trudy like that and then her dying would make him completely do a 180 on how he feels about his mother. He dedicated the town to her even. This is just all a huge way of coping with his mother’s death and the way he thought of her before and also his shitty life that Trudy made sure he had.

#slashers #bo sinclair #sinclair twins #sinclair brothers #slasher headcanons #slasher fandom #slasher angst #bo sinclair angst #bo sinclair house of wax #house of wax headcanons #house of wax theory #slasher theory #how 2005 #house of wax (2005)#house of wax 2005

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myers-meadow · 2 years

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Planetarium: Bo Sinclair x reader

Title: Planetarium

Summary: Being Vincent's partner was delightful, as long as it lasted. But things feel off with him, and Ambrose is small. Bo is there to share a cigarette with, and perhaps a little more.

Warnings: Angst and fluff. Themes of betrayal. Cigarettes, alcohol. Little about reader's appearance is mentioned. No explicit descriptions of any kind (not violence, not smut), but there are canon-typical subjects of kidnapping, killing and such. Sfw.

Word count: 3240

It started with a cigarette. I took it from the packet that Bo left on the dinner table after we finished washing up and took it outside. The sun was setting, casting a dim orange hue over the sky. By then, going outside was allowed and I was no longer watched insistently – although Bo could still get suspicious at times. Taking that cigarette and sinking down on the bench on the porch, overlooking the back garden and the woods, I fiddled with a lighter.

The door clattered when he stepped through, my heart sank when I saw it wasn’t Vincent.

“You smoke? That’s new,” Bo said and the bench creaked as he sat down next to me.

“I used to, you know,” I responded, shrugging, still messing with the lighter. Staring at me for another second, then he took the lighter from my hands, flicked it on. I breathed in and the spark caught on.

“Your nails are too long,” he said. Lit himself one too with practiced movements.

“Yeah.”

We sat in silence, watching the sun disappear behind the tree line, smoking.

He cast a glance my way, before speaking. “What’s on your mind, sugar?”

I sighed, exhaled, watched the embers. “You notice Vince’s been off lately? He won’t see me much these days.”

Bo raised his eyebrows. “But he’s crazy ‘bout you.”

“He didn’t talk to you?” I asked. He shook his head. “It feels like he’s been avoiding me. We’ve barely spoken since last week.”

“Ah. Thought he just had a lot on his plate.”

I shrugged. “Don’t we all?”

Bugs buzzed around, heavy bumblebees flew from weed to weed. The garden wasn’t particularly pretty, nor well-kept, but the blackberry bushes and the apple trees gave a good harvest each year. Vincent promised we could try strawberries next year, my favourite. Have Lester go into town for them, make him marmalade and pies in the summer as a thank-you. Lester liked sweet things. Another sigh wracked my body. The questions piled on top of each other, mixing with fears, insecurities, uncertainty. A mosquito landed on my knee, I killed it with one good slap.

“Strawberries would be good,” I mumbled. My hand stung from the impact and I rubbed the spot I hit, then flicked the dead thing into the grass. “Vince said we could try planting them before winter hits. Too bad there won’t be a next year.”

“What ya mean?”

“I mean, if he dumps me, I doubt you’ll let me stay, or live,” I stared at him, watching his surprise.

“Hey now, that’s rather drastic, ain’t it, doll? Wouldn’t want ya to worry about that.” With a good-natured grin, he bumped his shoulder into mine.

“Thanks,” I said, without feeling it, staring at the last rays of light that hit the trees.

Breakfast with Bo in silence, no Vincent. Everything felt heavier when he wasn’t there. When putting the plates in the sink, Bo grabbed my arm.

“Come with me to the station, keep your mind off of things.”

It was a calm day, much like those before I was allowed alone and before Vincent took interest in me. The easiest things to do back then were to busy my hands and follow instructions. This led to cleaning cars, handing them tools, sweeping the floor, stirring wax as it melted in the pot; working alongside them in silence. With time, Bo became more talkative, as did I.

His most recent project was another car, left by the tourists that passed by less than a week ago. A reasonably new one, probably borrowed from one of their parents.

Once I saw the interior of the car, it was clear why he asked me to come. It was littered with empty bottles of Aperol, candy wrappers and sour-smelling beer cans. Crumbs all over the seat and something sticky was spilled over the dashboard. Clearing it out and throwing it in the trashcan was easy. The scrubbing part wasn’t my favourite.

“You’re quiet today,” Bo remarked, from below by the wheels. He cleaned the mud off of the tires and the wheels, before moving on to change the plates. He stretched and threw the rag back into the bucked with soapy water.

I ducked my head inside the car again, plucked a red thong off the backseat. “So are you.”

He gave half a grin, before I stretched the elastic of the thong and flung it at his head. He ducked and it hit the wall behind him, falling onto the workbench.

“Naughty tourists.” Bo grabbed the thing, pinching it between two fingers, before throwing it back at me, grinning the dimples in his cheeks. I caught it and dropped it in the trash.

“The one with the curly hair was cute,” I said, “don’t think she was the type for thongs, though.”

He raised his eyebrows. “They were an interesting bunch, that’s for sure. Spoiled brats.”

“You said the same about me back then.” I shrugged, aware I shouldn’t push him with remarks that dredge up the past like that, but it seemed my brain wouldn’t stop.

It was his turn to grimace, he dried his hands and approached me. “Even so, you proved us wrong.”

He stopped in front of me, a squeeze of the shoulder, before he trailed his fingers over my collarbone, up my neck. It was never entirely comfortable when he came close like this, always a dangerous edge, always Vincent or their stupid rivalry on the back of my mind.

“Doll, look at me.” His calloused fingers reached my chin, pushing it up.

I did, forcing my eyes to his. Bright blue, framed by dark brows and something brewing within – something dark I didn’t care to know. “Ain’t nothing gonna happen to you.”

Quickly, I nodded. Seems like Bo was less sensitive to Vincent’s moods than I was, despite knowing him for longer. Perhaps because he knew him longer. Or perhaps he knew something I didn’t know.

Bo stepped away and I could breathe again. “Get some lemonade from the cooler, will ya?”

“Sure thing, Bo,” and my voice almost sounded normal.

Mustering up the courage was one thing, but my knees felt week as I descended the stairs to the basement. The door was locked, as expected, as he often did when he hid his ongoing projects from prying eyes, so I knocked.

“Vincent, love, please let me in,” I tried, knocking another few times. Soft classical music spilled from the cracks, too low in volume to make out which piece it was. Immediately after I spoke, it was joined by other sounds. The echo of something wooden that creaked. I slapped my hand in front of my mouth and my back hit the wall.

It's not what you think, it’s not what you think.

I found Bo in the living room, silently pried the packet of cigarettes from his breast pocket and took it outside, barely hearing his protests. He followed me to the porch, taking back the packet and holding my shaking hands in his. The roughness of his callouses grounded me. Finally I could look in his eyes.

“What’s gotten you like this?” he asked, voice low. I only shook my head.

“Just- just got a lot on my mind.” Shaky breaths. The sounds from the basement- it was exactly the same as when Vince took me there, strapped me down and fucked me over the workbench. It was one of his favourite places to have me, where he felt most confident.

He gave my hand a squeeze, then planted a cigarette between my fingers, lit it for me, then his own. “That’s alright. We don’ have to talk.”

He stared straight ahead the entire time we sat there. After the cigarettes there were beers. Never once did he look at me, and I trusted him more than I ever had.

In the morning I went down much earlier than normal; couldn’t sleep. Vincent tiptoed around in the kitchen and the wave of relief I felt was quickly shaken off by what happened the day before.

“Hey Vince,” I greeted him, voice soft and low from sleep. “We’ve barely seen each other, I miss you.”

He turned around to see me, gave a simple wave, coffee in hand, and attempted to pass by me around the kitchen table. I grabbed his sleeve. A dangerous game.

“Also, Bo wanted to know when you’ll be done with the statues, since you said you wanted to try some different mechanics in making them move and stuff. Could be a bit of an undertaking.” I shrugged. Released his arm.

Vince signed his answer. “Could be a while still. We’ll see each other tonight, yes?”

I tried a smile, “yeah, tonight.”

Not even a hug, I thought, as he retreated down the stairs again.

A few days went by. I cried a little less then, but sleeping was still difficult. Bo was a rock. Having to say that ‘see you tonight’ implied that I actually expected Vincent to keep his word. Even despite knowing it in my gut, my brain already tried rationalising what I heard when I went down to the basement. Most days that week I went with Bo to help him with the car. After that one was repaired, cleaned, changed enough to make it less noticeably stolen – he took it away to sell. After that was handled, it was quiet.

The mornings were me, stewing, alone, in the chair in the living room. Bo slept in when he could, when there was less work to do, which there was, now that the car was done. The afternoons were us doing chores together, or side by side, and we ate dinner at the table.

Then, a Tuesday, Bo came back after dinner, dusk already passed, he motioned to me.

“Wanna show ya somethin’,” he grinned, taking me by the hand, letting me grab my coat before heading out the door. He carried an old floral blanket over his arm. “It’s not too bad of a walk.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, sweets.”

His mischievous mood was infectious and I smiled without noticing.

“Oooh, a surprise,” I said. “Let’s go then.”

The dimples in his cheeks standing out more in the last light of the sun, he gave my arm a pull to make me hurry up. “Yes, come on.”

Still jogging at a lazy pace, we reached the middle of town, the church looming ahead of us, only a silhouette as the last light disappeared. My lungs took in gulps of cold, damp night air. The Museum stood, waiting like a gaping mouth.

“The museum; that’s your surprise?” I chuckled, but he just gripped my hand tighter and pulled me to the back of the building. “And why are the street lights off?

“When Vince and I made this town into what it is today, we wanted to make sure we still had enough spots, like to get away to.” Letting go of my hand, he grabbed a metal ladder that laid discarded in the tall grass behind the museum, and righted it against the side of the building.

“The roof?” I asked, with some sense of disbelief. He tested the security of the ladder and then gestured for me to climb it.

“Ladies first,” and with that handsome smile, I’d do just about anything.

It was only natural to distrust the wax a little, but it was perfect, just as the other rooms inside the museum.

“Catch!” Bo called from down there, and messily threw the blanket at me. I barely caught it by the hem and pulled it up, already laying it out over the sandy wax roof, brushing away dead leaves to make space for it. The ladder creaked as Bo came up, and he scooted over to help spread out the blanket.

“So this is your spot?” I asked, looking around. It was nice, such a high vantage point over Ambrose. There was a case of beer and a bottle of wine to the side. Bo dragged them closer, bottle in hand.

“Something like that, yeah.” He twisted the cap from the wine bottle and held it out for me. Inside the case were two glasses. “We can start with wine, I know beer ain’t your favourite.”

“Very kind of you to remember.” I held the glasses as he poured it. “Ho, stop, that’s more than enough,” I chuckled. “You prepared this? With the blanket and all.”

He took a first sip of wine, folded his legs underneath him and pulled a sour face. “Ah, that’s disgusting. Don’t know how you and Vince drink this stuff.”

“Beer isn’t much better.”

“But to answer your question; yes, I did. Though you’d need a moment like this. Can’t really get away from it all, but this is nice, right? Come.” He pat the blanket again, set his glass down, then took mine from me to set next to his. Then he laid down flat, eyes unreadable. As I sank next to him, I saw what he meant. The stars. Hundreds of them. Some glistened brightly, others were dim, and their colours varied. Red, white, yellow, blue, orange…

Speechless, feeling deeply touched by his considerate gesture, I blinked away tears.

“Bo, I’m- this is incredible.”

“There’s little light pollution out here, if we leave all the street lights off,” he said, voice normal, but when I looked to my left, there was something unexplainable in his expression. Perhaps it was just the darkness that cast strange shadows. To avoid it, I looked back up, mesmerised.

We finished the first glass of wine – him only drinking half of it before pouring the rest into my glass – in silence, looking up at the night sky. The air cooled down, but it was just about comfortable once I buttoned up my coat. The second glass went easier, warming the blood in my cheeks. He cracked open a beer and pulled the packet of smokes from his breast pocket.

“Want one?” he said, as his already dangled from his lip. With a vague nod from me, he held one out for me, as I pressed it between my lips much the same as he did. With the flick of the lighter, his hair tickled my temple as we both leaned in to light the cigarette.

The silence returned again as we smoked slowly, letting most of it burn to ash, tapping them against Bo’s old glass as a makeshift ashtray. After that, the wine tasted different, but it was still wine.

My eyes kept returning to the same stars, only to have them dim when looking directly at them. The entirety of the sky was almost overwhelming, and having been out in the dark so long made it not resemble anything of a normal night. It was as if being awake for the first time in months. Of experiencing the world how you do when you travel, how even the simplest things feel special. Words of beauty wouldn’t describe it, beauty was irrelevant – it was an awe so deep I felt it under the skin. I sighed deeply, emptying out all the old air that resided in my lungs. Sat up to replenish the wine, then laid back down. Along with it all was a heaviness I did my best to shove away, and as I looked at the depth of the sky, it was all so far away.

Once again my eyes trailed over to the side, catching sight of Bo’s profile. Not often I got to see his face at rest. Older too, noticeably older than the early 20s college students we had out here a week or two ago. Years would flow by out here, leaving their marks on him. I opened my mouth to say something without even knowing what, and he turned his head, catching me before I could form any words. His eyes crinkled as he smiled widely. One of the arms he had folded underneath his head extended and he brushed over my temple, then trailing to my eyebrow and I let my eyes flutter close as he explored my face. The rustling of clothes as he shifted. His fingers almost tickled on my cheek as he followed the shape of it, and that of old acne scars. A waft of his scent, something like wood, warmth, and the smell of tobacco on the tips of his fingers.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, a sudden break in the silence, but it barely registered before his lips touched mine. It took a moment to kiss him back. I never thought he’d be soft like this. A dog with all bark and no bite. A nudge of his hand under my chin was enough to make me open my lips for him, to feel the scrape of his tongue against mine. He only pressed closer and closer, letting me taste him deeper, letting our teeth clash – the curve of his lips as he smiled into the kiss.

He cursed as he lifted himself up to lean over me, making sure not to lean on my hair – almost annoyed with having to break the kiss. We re-joined and something swirled inside me, stringing along into gut and liver and spleen, something that was deeply a part of me for a long time. It all jumbled together. As it got difficult to breath, panting into his mouth from the force of his kisses, the denim of his jacket scratching my collar bones, it was my lungs that the feeling invaded. After that, into the stomach, and it twisted and turned around the new nervous feeling and the abundance of wine.

Bo sighed as he pulled back for breath, eyes half-lidded, wearing a lazy smile, letting his accent drawl more than usual: “How can you feel so right?”

And I believed him. The charmer, the scheming face of Ambrose, the one who isn’t to be trusted – in that moment he was all I ever wanted.

My fingers tangled in his hair as I pulled him back down to me, biting down on his bottom lip. A calloused thumb pressed my mouth open further, giving him free reign to explore. My other hand at his hip, feeling the warmth of his skin as I pulled his shirt up, feeling the muscle that laid over his back. He nuzzled his nose against mine, opening his eyes to look at me and I did the same. How could it feel as though we have the same will? This was new, but it felt like coming home. Fingertips followed the indent of his spine, up and down to the waistband of his jeans.

“Bo, I-”

“Shh, not now,” he said softly, kissing me again. I dug my nails in, pulling him as close as I could.

“More,” I said, and he chuckled, before kissing his way to my ear.

“Only if you sleep by my side tonight,” his hot breath ticking the sensitive skin and warming me in places I shouldn’t feel so heated from such a simple action. Hand kneading a breast through layers of fabric.

“Always,” I answered, breathless. Over his shoulder there were the stars, countless and without any consideration of life on earth. Tomorrow I won’t wake with the same hope, but the feeling that crawled its way into my heart will rest easy in his arms.

#bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #house of wax fanfic #angst #bo sinclair angst #bo sinclair fluff #meadow's writing #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #house of wax #slasher community #fluff

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hooman4ever · 1 year

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Bo x GN Reader “Leaving Tonight”

I was bored while working on some HCs so have this very short angst.

“I’m leaving tonight.”

Rain shook the windows. Thunder shaking the home of the Sinclairs.

“I’ll be gone in the morning.”

Darkness filled Bo’s room, his hands tangled together elbows resting on his knees. A clock ticking filled the darkness, each tick making Bo’s heart speed up. His worried eyes flickered across the empty dresser drawers lining the floor of his room.

You were gone.

Gone…

Angry Bo shouted his screams of anger shaking the home. Tears streamed down his face as his voice broke, anger being replaced by grief without his permission.

“Why should I care? I think we know ya will be crawling back home long before that sun rises.”

He had rolled over that night ignoring the fading footsteps and sobs as you fled from him.

Shoulda stopped em. He thought over and over his tears staining the sheets below him.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x male reader #bo sinclair x female reader #bo sinclair x gn reader #bo sinclair x #bo sinclair angst #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher x male reader #slasher x female reader #slasher x gn reader #slasher x

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fluffy-little-demon · 2 years

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Sing For Me

Bo Sinclair x Reader

Contains: mild angst, mentions of reader on their death bed but I'm sure they'll be fine, Soft Husband Bo.

I have no clue if I'm using the word malice correctly but it's the only word my brain could think of.

"Can you sing for me Bo?" Tiredness laced through your voice as you lie in your shared bed, your husband sitting on the edge of the bed facing towards you with his head down.

"No darlin, I'm not gonna sing" Bo scoffed in an he thinks you're joking kinda way, continuing to look down.

"Come on please, I'm literally on my death bed" you half smiled trying to make a joke out of a bad situation.

Bo's head shot up "You are not on your death bed because you are not gonna die!" His tone sharp but held no malice. You knew he was more scared than you.

You let out a sad sigh "Neither of us know if I'll make it through the night. Please... for me?" Reaching out your hand to gently grab his.

"What ya wanna hear baby" looking at you with tears in his eyes threatening to spill.

"Our song" you try to really smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"Alright my darlin" Bo kisses your knuckles then your forehead before he starts to sing, hoping his voice doesn't crack with all the emotions he's desperately trying to keep down.

#bo sinclair #soft bo has my heart #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair headcanons #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair angst #bo sinclair fic #bo sinclair drabble #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax x reader #sinclair brothers #sinclair twins #brian van holt #kim's writing #my husband

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the-slasher-madame · 2 years

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Bo Sinclair Angst//Comfort

Well gang, this might be a bit of a doozy. I’m not the only one, and it ain’t all that big a deal, but there’s definitely stuff that people have said/done that sticks with me and I believe is a little traumatizing. One of those memories has been bouncing in my head, so I thought I’d write what I wish could’ve happened, or just a way I’d like to be comforted. I still have troubles like, I guess properly giving credit to this kind of stuff. Like I call it sugarcoating, I just tend to underexaggerate stuff to protect people’s feelings or keep them out of trouble (them being my parents) and I do not support comparing trauma but I know this stuff isn’t as up there as what other people have experienced. Either way, it hurt, and I’m still trying to think through different thoughts and feelings I have. So there’s my piece of vulnerability for the day, and this is a way I’m trying to learn to use to help work through some of this <3

TW/Notes: heavy content, Bo being aggressive and scary, reader remembering stuff from their past, angst then comfort, fluffy ending, kind of a panic response/anxiety attack sort of deal, Bo yells at reader, gender neutral reader, reader likes stuffed animals, canon typical violence, as always let me know if I missed something

Also while this is based on a memory, it wasn’t quite as intense as this story

// Shit shit shit shit. The victims that ran through Ambrose today had been a lot to handle. Almost too much, but only almost. They had started by being rude to Lester, commenting on his appearance, his job, and his truck decorations. He’d given Bo a look when dropping off the tourists that had told your lover everything he needed to know. Despite his personal feelings, he tried to pour on the charm, but the group was just as snobbish to him as they were to his brother. Bo managed to get some of them to head towards the wax museum, taking care of the one that remained at the stations before radioing towards Vincent. All hell broke loose from there, and this group of asshats put up a fight. You had been in Ambrose long enough to form an attachment to the brothers, particularly Bo, and once the carnage started he always made sure you were safe in the house while he took care of the dirty work. You’d paced while the twins took care of their latest victims, but Bo absolutely hated whenever they got a group that tried to fight back. Sure, he loved a good struggle, but this group had gotten a couple of scratches and kicks in which only pissed him off beyond belief. You loved him, but you knew exactly how short his temper was. He’d yelled at you before, lashed at you with his rage when he couldn’t hold it anymore, but he tried his best to spare you from all that. He remembered how it felt getting yelled at as a child over nothing, and he knew you were a sensitive individual. He actually loved that about you, how emotional you were and how honest you were about it. But...it wasn’t always best when it came to his volatile anger.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, the slightly yellowed lights above you keeping you company with their constant hum as you sipped at your water. Night had fallen maybe an hour ago, maybe two: long enough that you were beginning to worry more than usual. You almost dropped your mug when the front screen door banged open and slammed shut, all the while with your lover letting out curse after curse. You set your mug down carefully on the table, starting to shake with the anxiety that sprung from Bo’s anger. You never delt with other people’s anger very well, especially when it came to those that were intimidating in their rage. Your head was lowered, staring at the mug grasped between your trembling hands. Bo stormed through the kitchen, heading straight to the fridge and it made you jump again. You hoped he hadn’t noticed, especially as your anxiety grew. Oh, he had unfortunately noticed. Bo was already in a foul mode, and he didn’t want to have to worry after you (and he felt guilty that you looked so shaken, knowing he’d done that to you).

“The fuck you lookin like that fer? I just walked through my own goddamn kitchen,” he hissed at you from his place next to the fridge, a beer already retrieved and held to his lips. You looked up at him, quickly moving your eyes back to your hands that had retreated into your lap. He didn’t like this, feeling like you were ignoring him and his rage was reaching a breaking point. Bo’s voice started barking out to you, getting louder and more aggressive as he went on, “fuck off, it’s not like you do a goddamned thing around here. YOU CAN’T EVEN FUCKING LOOK AT ME HUH? BRAT, I’LL FUCKIN SHOW YA-” He pushed away from the counter, his bottle left on the countertop. Whatever courage you had fled when you saw him move, and you were thrown back to a memory of your father, one you had been thinking about for the last few days. He never beat you per say, but you had been spanked a fair amount as a child and had more than a fair share of arguments and fights from your parents. It left a lot for you to work through, but you were trying. You were trying for Bo, just as you knew he tried to be more patient for you.

All that was gone from your mind as adrenaline pulsed through you, feeling more like pure fear racing through your arteries. Coherent and reasonable thought left you, sending you into fight-or-flight mode. Your body chose flight, and you quickly scooted out of your chair to shove it in Bo’s path before darting out of the room. You were starting up the stairs while he moved the chair aside, swearing at you. You knew, you knew that he wouldn’t hurt you, but all you could feel was fear. Your mind was sticky with it, heightening your senses while dulling your thoughts. He was moving after you, fast, his mind still on the idea of a chase. He didn’t even know what he was chasing you for, you had run and he had followed on instincts left over from the previous activities of the night. You were jumping off the top step towards the hallway while Bo was halfway up, sweating and trying to gain on you. Your body somehow found a way to push forth another burst of speed, racing forward and lunging into the guestroom and shoving it closed. You locked the door and ran to hide under the desk in the room, a place you had taken to using as a studio for your own crafts. You never really knew why, but you tended to like hiding under desks and the likes when you were distressed (though it was most definitely an unconscious decision at the moment).

You had your hands over your ears (another default position of yours) and were shaking worse now than you had before. Bo slammed in the door, hard, cursing more as he tried to shake the handle open. Each word, each shake of the door made you sink in on yourself, and your heart was beating like you were in a horror movie. The banging stopped as Bo’s footsteps stomped off, and you took a few deep breathes that almost started to take the fog out of your mind; however, Bo was starting to bang back towards the room, and you swear your heart stopped when you heard the lock click. Fuck how could you forget he had a key to every room in his room? You shrieked when the door opened, and tried to shove yourself harder under the desk. Bo stopped for a moment, still seething, but that’s when he started to notice exactly how bad you were freaking out. He turned towards you and your desk, and you let out that horrible shriek again. It was pure pain, animalistic fear. Bo hadn’t heard that sound from you since you first came to Ambrose, and it stopped his rage in its tracks. He ducked to get a glimpse at you under the desk, and you started sobbing loudly. You’d had tears falling down your face since you had made it under the desk, and the whimpering had started as soon as the first scream had died on your lips. You saw him peering under the desk and you were sobbing, really sobbing. You tried to quiet down, whimpering out apologies to him about the noise and whatever had happened, but what really hurt him was hearing you say, “please don’t hurt me, I’m so sorry.”

You were still trying to back yourself further into the wall, and Bo started to worry you’d end up making a hole in the drywall from how hard you were moving into it. With his anger evaporated and replaced with guilt, Bo backed away slowly and left the room to gather some supplies to try and calm you down. He hurried back down the stairs to grab a water bottle, then went back up to stop by your shared bedroom. He knew how much you loved your stuffies, how comforting they were to you, and grabbed two of you favorites: one that you had said was the perfect cuddle shape before, and one that held sentimental value to you. You were almost hyperventilating when he returned to the room, and your sobs picked up again as he moved past the desk. He sat about a [meter/yard] away from you on the floor, settling in to try and calm you down before you passed out. Bo had seen you have an anxiety attack before and thus had an idea of what to do, and he couldn’t even begin to think about exactly how guilty he felt that he had caused one. Bo loved you and trusted you, he’d accepted you as a Sinclair and sworn to protect you like one. His heart ached hearing your small wails and soft screams.

He sat there a few minutes, letting you adjust to his presence in the room. When your cries had slowed somewhat, he slowly slide your cuddly stuffie towards you, figuring you would need something to hold on to and ground yourself with. He was right, and you gripped the thing like a lifeline. He stayed where he was, watching your breathing slow ever so slightly. He started inching his way closer when he determined that your breathing was steadier and that you were now just crying instead of those gut-wrenching wails of fear. Your eyes locked on him, but you were regaining some sense of control over your own mind again and thus let him approach. However, you did not move to greet him, you were still wary of what might come next, your anxious side telling you to still be alert. Bo finally reached the desk, still sitting with you on the ground. He stayed still for a few minutes, once again letting you get used to his company. He felt relieved when your muscles relaxed, and slowly slid under the desk with you.

“Hey doll,” his voice let out softly, “could we maybe move out from under here? Can’t be comfortable sittin all cramped up like that.” You thought a second before nodding, and he started to move back out. You followed him, reappearing from your safe spot under the desk. The two of y’all were still sitting close together has Bo whispered to you once again: “Come ‘er darlin, it’s ok. Just let me hold you alrigh?” You nodded again and almost launched yourself into him, curling up in his lap. You had your one stuffie under your arm, and he placed the last one between the both of y’all’s chests before encircling you with his arms. Time passed like that, him crooning to you all the while.

Eventually you were back in control of yourself completely, and you too started to feel a bit guilty. You hated when you reacted badly to anything, when you got pulled in to a dark pit and felt like you were overreacting when you came out of it. You looked up to his eyes and started with, “I’m sorry Bo, I shouldn’t’ve-” “Hush darlin, it’s alrigh, I shouldn’t a run after ya like that. Shouldn’t a yelled at ya either,” he interjected, knowing exactly where you were heading with this. “But I-” “Nope, you jus reacted, an tha’s ok. I promise I’ll do better, yea? Ain’t gonna scare ya like that again, I promise,” he said, trying to reassure you that this was not something you needed to feel bad for, and that he would fix it. He would not let this happen again, he cared too much for you. Truth be told, he worried about you most of the time. He knew some of the things you had struggled with in the past, and he was terrified by the thought of losing you to them.

You leaned back into his chest, too tired to keep going with this train of conversation. Bo placed his arms around you so that he could carry you to bed. He sat you down, made you take a drink, and tucked you in carefully. He tugged off his boots and hat, climbing in to bed to hold you close to his chest (he was fond of being the big spoon, he felt like he had a living stuffed animal to hold and take care of). You fell asleep fast, drained from the wave of adrenaline and the emotional turmoil that had come with it. He placed kisses along your neck and behind your ear sporadically, almost as if he was trying to remind himself you were here. Vincent peeked his head in the door after you had fallen asleep, looking directly at his twin. Bo raised his hand to fingerspell ‘later,’ dropping it back to hold you around your waist. You turned over to nuzzle into his chest, stuffies still held tight in your arms. Vincent gave one last look before moving on to whatever he needed to do, and Bo eventually fell asleep looking at your face, swearing to show you how much he treasured you.

- Alrighty finite. This was more intense than the memory I have I think, I only remember getting in an argument with my dad and he chased after me to spank me. Not great, but could be a helluva lot worse. I want Bo Sinclair so bad, I just want him to sit and comfort me and hand me stuffies. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy my late night angst/comfort lol

#slashers #slasher fucker #slasher lover #slasher x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair angst #bo sinclair angst/comfort #lil bit a therapy oops #i have been to therapy but we mostly worked on my anxiety and depression and self esteem issues #slasher angst #slasher hurt comfort #I love the sinclairs #my lil bo angst/comfort fic

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delusionally-loveless-by-choice · 2 years

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"Because I love you"

Bo Sinclair x gn!Reader

Warning/Possible TW(?): angsty?? (I tried)), fluff at the end?? (Also tried), Drunk bo, Angry Bo, yelling (Bo), mention of ringing and buzzing in ears

Word count: 1k

Author’s Note: SELF INDULGENT FIC. Wrote this on impulse because my ears keep ringing and i need more Bo fics that aren’t just sex, but also aren’t just entirely fluff. I need more hurt. Also important to note that because i wrote this unplanned and so suddenly I mostly definitely did not get Bo’s character done at all. Couldn’t do him any justice and for that I apologize, i just needed to get this angsty fic urge to get out. And ALSO reader has like hearing sensitivity so loud noises make their ears ring, so just keep that in mind :)

It was one of those nights again.

Where Bo was getting drunk. Drinking the night away, to forget, to make everything go away.

You noticed that he always drank like this in order to lose himself. So that he wouldn’t have to deal with remembering everything or anything.

Seeing him like this aways hurt. You couldn’t help it.

This came naturally. The need to care for someone you love.

However, every single time Bo got like this, his usual angry outbursts seemed to increase. His volume once a ten, now a hundread.

You already had issues when he would raise his voice when he wasn’t drunk, or that drunk. His voice was just too fucking loud when he yelled. And your already sensitive hearing caused an immensely insufferable ringing to occur. It happened every time you’d were exposed to loud or high pitched tones. It was annoying and sometimes even hurt.

…

The first time you were victim to his booming yell was when Bo was in an argument with Lester.

Lester had accidentally let a victim get away. Bo was furious.

While you were inside the house making something to eat for everyone (since the boys were terrible in the kitchen) , you heard the commotion.

The vulgarity that Bo spilled was slightly audible from inside. And as you stepped out, it only became clearer. And as you got closer , out of worry for both Lester and Bo, your ears began to ring as Bo’s voice hit incredibly high pitches.

You tried to get Bo to calm down. Shitty ass idea. He instead just directed his anger put at you.

“Shut the fuck up! This ain’t got nothin’ t’do wit’ you!”

Though he said it in order to keep you away from himself. He knew how ferocious his anger can get, and he didn’t want you to get on the wrong side and end up getting hurt.

But Bo still ended up hurting you. His yelling not only hurt you but it scared you as well. Usually your first instinct would have been to yell back at the asshole who dared to yell at you, but this was Bo. You knew how he could get but you have never been on the receiving end of his anger. You were just surprised at how terrifying it was to be on this end.

As you stepped back to go back inside , you looked back at Lester who gave you a sympathetic nod for you to get back inside. He felt bad you had to get to face Bo’s anger this way.

…

After a few times you had gotten used to Bo’s antics. How he could just be mad or irritated some times he’s he’d yell a “God damn ‘it!” Or “Leave me ‘lone!”

Sure you’d gotten use to what to do to avoid meeting his anger but that never stopped the fucking ringing that came from his fucking yelling.

You tried talking to him about it. And Bo, though he’d never soberly admit it, he tried to not raise his voice as much when he knew you were near. Especially when he was angry. He was getting better at, well not holding his tongue, but getting better at not yelling so fucking loudly!

It had worked and you made sure to thank him, but not directly since he’d insist that he “don’t know what yer goin’ on ‘bout.”

But as he sometimes got a rougher day, he’d go to his favorite way to wind down: getting fucking wasted. But getting drunk Bo was never fun in being his company when he was fucking mad. He was just either a pain in the ass who wouldn’t shut the fuck up or an asshole who wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

…

So here we are back to the night.

Where Bo was busy getting drunk.

You wanted him to stop before he reached any point that would make him feel regret. But you were too late.

He sloshed and slurred. His steps where uncoordinated and he bumped into anything and everything near him. His usual murmured curses were now said in normal tone. It was like he couldn’t control how loud he was, that or he couldn’t hear how loud he was being.

After seeing him fail miserably at trying to get up, you go to him and try to give him a hand.

But your help was met with Bo jerking his arm from you. As if it stung.

“Don’t need no fuckin help, i know how to fuckin walk!” His voice boomed. As with you being like three feet away from him, you got a good fucking range of how loud he can be. He wasn’t even trying! But his tone was deafening.

At his response you jumped and immediately your hand reached for your ears. The ringing loud and you couldn’t tell which was louder, it or Bo.

Your reaction wasn’t known to Bo. He was too busy still trying to get up and letting out strings of curses.

“Bo please, m just trying to help.”

“I already said i ain’t want any!” As he said this he turned to see you wincing at his volume. Its like it fucking clicked and his feeling of guilt and anger flushed fully in. He felt bad that he was causing you this pain and distress. And hr felt angry at you for putting up with it, why couldn’t you just call him out on his shit? But he was also angry at himself, why did he have to cause you so much pain? Why couldn’t he just not fuck it all up? Why couldn’t he just be like fucking Vincent? Fuck.

“Fuck, m, shit, m sorry… i didn’t, didn’t mean it like tha.. is just.. “ bo tried to salvage what he could , he wanted to not hurt you .

“Its okay Bo, lets just get you to bed, okay..? Its okay..” he nodded but kept silent.

He didn’t want to hurt you. He was just this way. Loud and boisterous , maybe not all the time but it was part of him. And somehow even though this part of of him sometimes hurt you, you still put up with his shit. As your ears rung you still went to him. He wondered why you hadn’t just left if he hurt you so much.

He wondered this all the way until you helped flop him onto bed. Then he looked over at you and asked “why?”

This was clearly not enough, you gave him a confused look, this was enough for him to elaborate.

“Why you still here? I jus keep hurtin you, n you …” he was tired and just kept trailing off. His voice now wasn’t loud , nor was it soft, he just sounded like was gonna fall asleep. So you took this sad opportunity to admit your longing for the man. “Because I love you Bo, you fucking idiot, i care too much about you.” The ringing subsided, though you knew that as long as you were with Bo, the ringing and buzzing could always come back. But you knew that Bo cared and so he’d try his best to work on it, for you. Because he cared for you too.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #slasher fic #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair angst #self indulgent fic #bo sinclair ooc prob sorry #bo sinclair/reader #bo sinclair x gender neutral reader #how do i tag lmao #this is like my second officially posted fanfic post like ever #fanfiction cringe #fanfiction

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cherryskyies · 10 months

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The slashers w an insecure s/o

Includes: Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt

slowly getting through this major writers block. my writing might be dog shit for a few posts but I'm forcing myself to work through it 🩷

Reader is female

Warnings: descriptions of sex (mostly bo section), praise, low self-esteem.

Masterlist || Navigation || ao3

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent doesn't understand it.

The moment he laid eyes on you he was in awe, knowing immediately he needed you alive. There wasn't enough wax in the world to sculpt you the ways he desired.

So to see your hesitance at removing your clothing, he was scared you had changed your mind about him — the thought of you being insecure hadn't crossed his mind until you admitted it.

Your cheeks are hot from embarrassment, apologies slipping off your tongue as you dropped your head against his chest. "I'm sorry Vin, I've never liked my body."

He's quick to silently reassure you that he loves all of you, even the parts he hasn't seen with soft hands roaming your delicate body; finger tips gliding over your curves, stopping to lift your face to his – it's a promise.

Vincent will worship the very ground you walk on, making it his goal to show you your beauty through his gentle touches and precise sculptures. You will fill his work space.

Bo Sinclair

"What'dya mean you don't like your body? You've got the best piece of ass I've seen in my life!" Bo exclaims, genuinely confused at your insecurities.

There is not a chance he'll fully understand, regardless of his own insecurities. Bo looks at you and sees the perfect woman — so what if you have some imperfections? He might as well be blind because he can't see them.

He is very gentle with you though, thoroughly fucking the insecurities away and praising you every chance he gets.

"Look how beautiful you are, cumming all over my cock," Bo praises, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror he's placed across the room. "So perfect."

Would definitely make you point out features you like on yourself before you can cum. Just seems like that kind of guy.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas would be so heartbroken to hear you say you don't like your appearance. He'd think it's his fault for not appreciating you enough.

The first time you say it, you're both a nervous wreck.

"It's not you, Tommy. I just.. I've never liked my appearance," you admit, eyes downcast while your hand holds his at the hem of your shirt.

He whines, nuzzling his face in your neck. It's not fair that you feel this way he thinks, you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

But he understands, having his own insecurities; so the two of you make a deal to leave the lights off and keep your shirts on until you are more comfortable — which doesn't take long with the way he worships your body.

With Thomas your insecurities are a thing of the past.

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dolliestfairy · 8 months

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𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 ࿐ೀ

Jason Voorhees, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, & Michael myers with Fem!Reader who is a Victoria Secret Models ✧ 𓏲๋ ⊹ ֢

𑁍 Tw : Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Denial, Insecurities, Mentions of Killing someone/murdering somebody, the word 'rotten' and 'blood'. Mostly fluff. Reader Skintone is Unannounced.

❁ Authors&Note ; THIS TAKE WAY TOO LONG CUS I'M SO FCKING LAZY 'M SO SORRYY 😭 but yea i tried my best... what do you think? i'll make part two if you like this one :) check out my Masterlist to see more stuff like this with different fandoms and community! happy reading fairies 🧚🏻‍♀️𓏲๋ ⊹ ֢

ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪ Jason Voorhees

• absolutely loved you with all of his dead heart and soul.

• and worship you as well, i mean how couldnt he? you're just soo beautiful! your beauty can even melt his own rotten heart.

• now we know that jason is a very insecure big boy, and sometimes he felt insecure and disgust at himself because he often thinks about the untruth that he doesnt deserve to have someone as pretty as you.

• now if you see him acting like this.. please reassure him that he's enough, because truth to be told; he really need it. he is just shy... you know?..

• but besides his insecurities he is absolutely over the heels for you, he also really support your carrier and would def 100% killed for you.

• if someone tryng to take down your carrier just tell him and he'll rip their heads off their own body.

• and again; this was all just for you, the only person he would love besides his mother, ever.

ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪ Vincent sinclair

• 'another draw insipration huhhh?' thats what this big 'ol boy thoughts about you when he first saw you.

• absolutely would die & killed for you. and let me tell you this guy is also has a mad respect for you.

• its like princess treatment you know.. anything you want he'll gave you it.. you want a new beautiful wax sculpture of yours? no problem baby.. he'll make it for you just gave him 1 weeks! you want something but its outside of the city? no problem! bo would do it for him. if he doesnt want to? lester would be the one.

• loves seeing you pose for yourself. it really gave him more ideas. he sometimes love to think of you in a different type of clothes.

• also loooove your confiedence, really boost his energy. his place was usually has this gloomy and just plain walls and floor with a rotten blood scent 'dancing' through his room, but once you step your feet in then the atmosphere would just like.. change for the better.

• he is actually kind of insecure about himself, but everyday he get better and better once he got those bless-kisses from you into his cheeks, and he freeaking loves it!

ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪ Bo Sinclair

• really cocky about it at first...

• but then turns out he was actually obsessed with you.

• he doesnt want to admit it though.. Hell, he would rather bury his own self alive than admitting his feelings towards you.

• its just that he felt like the feelings "love" is making him vulnerable and he just seems those as something as uneccesary and a waste of time.

• thats what he thought until he felt like he cant take it anymore as he just angrily confessed his feelings towards you with like zero preparations at all like it was all just... happen.

• this guy is a weirdo, but would never admit it anyway. and yeah... he likes you, a lot. but again.. He Would Never Say This Out Loud.

ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪ Michael Myers

• doesnt really understand about the concept of those thing called "Victorian secret" you worked to.

• until he start observe and observe and observe.. stalking and stalking here and there.. trying to find the explanation.

• and when he finally got it, it was all just make sense to it. i mean you're a very irresistable person and it left him feeling so Struck-eye.

• but he would never admit this...

• it doesnt change anything at all tbh, the way he show about how much he loves you is that he doesnt hurt or even killed you.

• instead, at some rare occasion, you'll find yourself in your room with a strange yet pretty stuff besides it where it was covered in blood and shits.

• and yeah thats how this big dude show his scary intimidating love towards you <3 he's also always sometimes watching you sleep at night. i know its kinda creepy but uh.. at least he doesnt try to hurt you ig?.............

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slashv1xen · 1 month

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bo sinclair’s reaction to you flinching

fem!reader x lovesick/obsessed bo sinclair

category: fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort

the two of you were having an argument. what about? his anger problems

y/n: “you always do this, you seriously need to get your short temper in check”

bo: “my temper ‘s perfectly fine, ya just looking for reasons to argue”

y/n: “you’re raising your voice now! don’t you understand that yelling like this makes everyone else feel like shit?”

bo: *rolls eyes.* “just shut up, okay?!”

he stepped forward towards you aggressively and you flinched. hard.

when he saw this his eyes flashed with hurt and he took a small step back. his jaw was slightly agape, then hardened as he thought of his actions. ‘is she seriously afraid of me?’

you began breathing heavily, and bo sighed whilst running his hand through his hair. your eyes darted around nervously, waiting for a larger reaction

to your surprise, he walked up to you slowly and hugged you, his muscular arms wrapping around your upper back. his face was in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. his eyes watered slightly, and you mouth went dry as you felt you neck becoming damp

“are you afraid of me? you know i’ll never hurt you, right?” he sniffled, then looked up at you for reassurance, his nose and corners of his eyes red, and his cheeks damp from his hot tears.

you stayed silent for a few seconds, unsure how to comfort him. bo’s never this emotional, so it truly was a sight to see. “i know bo, i’m not afraid of you. i’m sorry, i was just…” you sighed and ran your fingers through his hair, smiling at him reassuringly.

his head fell into the crook of your neck once more, finding comfort in this position. he mumbled a few words, words you couldn’t hear. “what was that, bo?”

his face heated up, you didn’t even need to see it, you could feel the blood rush to his cheeks. “let’s just cuddle together” he mumbled again quietly. you laughed at his shyness, and the two of you made it to the bedroom, and reconciled.

authors note: hi loves, this is my first fanfic and i hope you enjoyed it! sorry if it is rushed, i wrote this at 12am while i was supposed to be sleeping. if you have any feedback, please say i would love to improve my writing. if you have any requests i would also love to complete those. i also feel like this is out of character but it’s all up to interpretation i guess. thank you for reading and have a great day x

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax (2005)#fanfic #fluff #light angst #hurt/comfort #fem!reader #shy bo #relationship #fights #arguing #making up #reconciling #you comfort bo

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bluecoolr · 1 year

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"I don't love you, Bo."

"No matter what you do. No matter how hard I try. I don't think I ever will."

"I know, Momma. I know."

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backscratches · 1 year

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'Hey, Sweetheart' part 1

The Sinclair brothers x F!child!reader (platonic)

Warnings: Mentions of death, yelling, plans of killing, Slashers, obsession

|next part|

That morning Bo had been woken up by his younger brother, Lester. It had been a call to him about the tourists he saw heading down the road to a campside. One car, couple of people, an easy job.

Bo and Vincent hadn't had tourists in the town in a awhile so the preparations weren't hard. Later that day, at the night exactly. Bo went and blew their tires. He made sure that Lester was ready to escort the couple to the town the next day.

The next day Bo was fixing a car in his garage when a couple walked up to him. They looked like a normal married couple, nothing more to him anyway. But one thing caught his eye. The woman was carrying a baby on her back.

"Hey folks what can I do for yall?" Bo asked trying to be polite. The man told him that they needed couple of tires for their car down the road and that they were in a hurry.

Bo couldn't care less about their plans to see the socker game in the next state or anything else about them. So he directed the woman with her baby up to see the famous Trudy's House Of Wax while he and the husband looked at some tires.

He didn't know what was he hoping to be done with the babe but there was no plans of keeping it either. There had been children passing through the town before but evedently there wasn't any kid wax figures.

After Bo had killed the man with a hit to the head he dragged the body downstairs to the basement of the garage and left to go up to the museum.

Now he knew what he wanted. He wanted Vincent to take care of the problem, that being the baby tourist, so he didn't have to worry about it.

But as he soon found out, Vincent wasn't just as attracted to the idea of getting rid of the little specimen. After he had killed the woman Vincent took the crying baby to his basement.

And that was what Bo had walked in on. Sweaty Vincent holding a crying baby girl in the middle of his work space.

"What the hell are you doing with that thing?" Bo asked loudly bewildered. Vincent only turned for a moment to look at him and then turned immediately back to the now fussing baby in his dry hands.

"Don't ignore me freak what the fuck are you doing with it?" Bo shouted at his twin brother or rather to his back.

"Be Quiet" Vincent whispered in his rough voice. He was observing the baby, holding her Infront of his face but after speaking to Bo he quickly moved the babe to his chest.

Holding the baby in his arms, Vincent began to slowly swing her in hopes of her falling asleep.

"The hell are you planning?" Bo asked angerly but alot quieter now.

The babygirl soon fell into a soft sleep in Vincent's hold.

There was a moment of silence, a moment of Vincent quietly cuddling to the babe, a moment of Bo trying to figure his brother out.

"I want her"

The few words that Vincent could muster with his broken face were enough for to Bo to shutdown.

He didn't want this, he wasn't ready for this and Ambrose sure wasn't a place for this.

Only if he knew how much his brother desperately wanted his own family. But his disformated face had quickly put a brick wall Infront of that dream. That hole he wished so badly to fill, that couldn't be treated even with his lovely good girl dog, Jonesy or a hundred wax figures across the town.

This beautiful baby was the most incredible thing he had ever witness even, his mothers world known wax figures couldn't bare fitness to the feeling this babe brought to him.

And nobody was going to take that away from him. Not even his twin brother.

this is my first fanfic I've ever written so yeah tell me your opinion

I will continue this series for at least a couple of parts

Please like

English isn't my first language tell me of any mistakes

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