#bo sinclair fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haddonfieldwhore · 1 month

Text

strangers - bo sinclair

bo sinclair x fem!reader

summary: bo has a very rare moment of humanity

warnings: implied smut, reader is bo’s captive, stockholm syndrome, blood

word count: 0.7k

loosely inspired by this song

the busted spring of the mattress poked into bo’s back as he rolled over in bed, trying to get away from the rays of sunlight creeping through the cracks in the curtain. he tried to go back to sleep but the light refused to let him, and he surrendered, sitting upright and leaning his back against the wall behind the bed. he rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the light, before he looked over to your side of the bed at you still sleeping form. the sheets were the only thing covering you, draped lazily over your side as you lay turned away from him, your only movement being each breath you took.

he traced the bruises and indentations left behind by his teeth, leaving a trail down the side of your neck and across you shoulder. you stirred slightly, rolling over to face him but remained asleep, giving bo the chance to admire every detail of your face. your lips were bruised from his harsh kisses, dried blood caked to your mouth, and dark circles under your eyes. you’d only been in ambrose 6 months, but it had aged you nearly two years. not that you could remember how long it had been anymore.

but still, bo couldn’t help but think how young you looked; innocent. he knew you weren’t - at least not anymore. no, he had taken that from you. you were hardly the same person you were when you’d arrived in town, just asking for help with your car. all alone. a pretty young thing like you didn’t stand a chance. not for a second.

it hadn’t taken long for bo to decide he was going to keep you. after that it wasn’t long before he convinced you that you wanted to stay; that it was your idea, even. once he knew you wouldn’t try to escape (not that you could’ve if you tried) he let you stay at the house with him instead of the basement.

they were both prisons. one just had a bed.

bo thought back to that first day, that first week, that first time you didn’t flinch at his touch. the first time you smiled at the sight of him. it was over; you were his.

even if you could’ve gotten away, it was too late. you were his. he owned you.

it didn’t matter if you had a family back home, looking for you. your missing poster had started to tear from the bulletin board at the grocery store in your home town; your mother would replace it. it didn’t matter. no one would find you. the person you were was gone. a ghost, though you were still alive.

something twisted in his stomach, a strange feeling; something he didn’t recognize, like he’d eaten something off and felt sick. but it was something else entirely.

guilt.

bo sinclair, for the first time in his life, felt a shred of guilt. it lingered for only a second, disappearing as quickly as it had materialized, as your eyes fluttered open and you smiled at him. your hands reached for him immediately, and bo pulled you into his lap, letting you curl into his chest. still half asleep, you peppered kisses along the underside of his jaw before nuzzling into his neck, nearly drifting off again. see? you were happy. he decided there was nothing for him to feel guilty about.

“mornin, darling.”

“good morning, bo,” you mumbled happily. anyone who saw this scene would think the two of you were in love. he’d rewired your brain so good you thought so too.

“go back to sleep baby. you did good last night.”

last night. you lost track of him many times he’d been buried between your legs last night, barely able to string together a cohesive thought by the time he was done with you, tears streaming down your face from it all being too much.

“i did good?” you hummed, and he nodded, kissing the top of your head.

“you did so good, sweetheart. now go back to sleep,” he cooed. you mumbled incoherently as you let yourself fall asleep in his arms. “that’s my girl.”

“…yours,” you mumbled before you were asleep again. he smiled.

“mine.”

#“am i making you feel sick?#strangers #bo sinclair x reader #ethel cain #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair #house of wax imagine #bo sinclair fic #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #house of wax fic

155 notes · View notes

small-sinclair · 10 months

Text

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.”

681 notes · View notes

fluffy-little-demon · 10 months

Text

Birthday Love

Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader

Fluffy birthday thingy I wrote for myself with a bit of implied smut at the end I love this gif 💕

The sun coming through the curtains, filling the room woke you up. In an attempt to ignore it you turned to go back to sleep only to find you were alone in bed. You let out a small grumpy noise but decide to get out of bed anyway. With half closed eyes you grab your husband's t shirt off the floor and make your way downstairs.

Once you were downstairs and in the kitchen, you see Bo standing over the stove in nothing but boxers. You were more awake now, Bo saw you before you had the chance to speak.

"Yer supposed to be in bed baby doll" wagging the spatula at you.

You went to wrap your arms around him from behind nuzzling your face into his back a little. "I'm sorry bunny, the bed felt empty without you. I could go back upstairs if you want."

"It's alright darlin, we can just eat down here. Go sit down baby." With a kiss on the head you go sit on the couch. You didn't turn the tv on like you normally did, instead you turned to watch your favourite cooking show.

Couple minutes later Bo came over with a tray holding a cup of tea, a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, waffles and a card.

"Thank you baby, this looks delicious."

"After you've eaten I can give you one of your presents."

"Oh you mean that thing you do with your tongue." Raising a eyebrow

"You know it baby" winks and smirks in a playful way.

You kiss the tip of his nose "Sounds like a plan"

"Happy birthday darlin" Bo says as he pulls you in for a very passionate kiss.

214 notes · View notes

a-writer-on-elm-street · 1 year

Text

Shows Of Affection With Bo:

(obviously these are all my own opinions so if you don't agree then that's totally fine just please don't hate👍😊)

It's very rare he'll allow hugs and if he ever does let you hug him, it's incredibly awkward, like his body will be so stiff against yours it's like hugging a sheet of cardboard.

Although there have been a couple of times when he's been able to easily melt into your embrace, his hands resting comfortably on the small of your back, his chin resting on top of your head. This usually occurs during rare moments when he lets his guard down, when he allows himself to be vulnerable with you.

A lot of the time if you're sitting close to him, he'll have his hand resting on your thigh. He doesn't even do it intentionally anymore, it's just instinct at this point. And you still can't decide if it's his way of showing affection or his way of staking claim. Or maybe it's a mix of both? Either way, you'd rather not question it.

Whilst he remains incredibly awkward with hugging, he'll never say no to kissing. Although he's never satisfied with a simple peck, he has to practically devour you when he kisses you.

When there's no one around, he'll let you hold his hand, might even let you play with the ring on his finger if you're lucky.

When you finally tell him you love him, he'll probably just scoff before telling you to shut your mouth. But inside, he's probably losing his shit because no one's told him that in so long. And he definitely didn't expect you to be the one saying it.

It'll definitely take him a lot longer to say "I love you", simply because he's afraid of making a fool of himself. And as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he's afraid to love someone, because everyone else has left him, with the exception of his brothers.

But when he finally does say "I love you", he absolutely makes it difficult. He'll be on his way out one morning and you'll hear him mutter something under his breath. You could've swore he just said he loved you, but that couldn't have been right, could it?

You'll find yourself chasing after him, catching him just as he's about to get into his truck and leave. "Did I hear that right?" You'll ask, noticing how he immediately looks away from you. "Hear what? I didn't say nothin'." "You just said you love me. I heard you!" He'll just readjust his cap on his head and jump into his truck before telling you to shut up, and then he'll drive away like nothing ever happened. But you don't care, because he loves you.

[Main Masterlist] [Bo Masterlist]

500 notes · View notes

f1nalboys · 1 year

Text

Catch 22 - Bo Sinclair and Nick Jones

Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader x Nick Jones

haiiii so heres the first of (hopefully) a few poly fics!!! bex (@bisexual-horror-fan) is currently running a little something called multi-may where for the month of may, every fic she posts will be polyam focused!!! i HAD to participate and what better way to do it than w stinky bo and stinky nick?? i hope yall enjoy the surprise of nick and the nasty sick little thing i wrote here for you <3 PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS ON THIS ONE GUYS!

WORD COUNT: 2526

WARNINGS: nsfw, dub-con to be safe but reader is (sadly and not really happy about it) into it, poly!relationship, toxic relationships, reader and nick used to date before ambrose and now bo is in the mix, bo comes as his own warning and honestly in this one, so does nick! oral (amab receiving,) unprotected sex, spit-roasting, heavy degradation, light praise but it's really just to make the degradation hit harder, slight humiliation, blood, biting, sadism and slight masochism, toy usage, slight dumbification, training mention (aka bo trains nick to be as sadistic as him and they train you to be good for them.) reader is called pet/sugar/freak/a good little bitch/baby/a pretty dumb thing.

It was hard to think about how exactly you got here, squished between both men with an ache deep in your gut as their hands roamed your body. How long had it been since you and he had come to town? A few days? A few weeks? Months? You weren’t sure anymore. Time in the basement had all but stopped for you the moment you had gotten strapped to the chair and it was hard for you to even think about before, especially when what was happening now was so good.

“Like that, doncha?” Bo asks, grinding against your ass, his face nuzzled into your neck. You make a noise resembling an agreement and you can feel his laugh rumble in his chest. He’s still clothed and you wish he weren’t, you wish he were naked and doing this to you so that you could at least pretend it was more for his own pleasure than yours. “Yeah, I bet you do. Like having two sets of hands on you, don’t you, my greedy little pet?”

He’s right, you do, and you hate that you do. You hate how much you’re loving this, having four hands grabbing and groping and pulling at you however they please. “They do love it,” Nick’s voice is in front of you and his forehead is pressed against your own. You blink, getting rid of the haze that had begun to collect in the edges of your vision, and are met with his icy stare. He resembled Bo here, a sharp stare with eyes that seemed to sparkle in a way that made your gut swim in both anxiety and lust. “Tell him, baby. Admit that you like when we treat you like this.”

You swallow thickly, your mouth dry. You nod and both men tsk at the same time, something you wish you could laugh at. You wish that their accidental synchronicity could ease your worries a bit, and could result in the briefest moments of normalcy. But their being in sync meant they were the same and that they had the same idea floating through their heads. Nick smiles at you, the corner of his lip curling upwards into a snarl. You’re sure Bo has a matching one.

“He told you to say it, sugar,” Bo’s grip on your hip tightens, grime-covered nails digging into your bare flesh, right over the last remnants of finger-print shaped bruises. It hurts but it was meant to. His touch was always meant to. Bo wanted the pain and pleasure to be uneven, coming in waves, making you crave the pain knowing that the sweeping and overwhelming end of the pleasure would come for you eventually. And god, did you crave that ‘eventually.’ “So… fuckin’ say it. Unless you want me to cut that tongue outta your mouth? Might do some good; you talk so goddamn much.”

“Yeah, but then how are we gonna let ‘em suck our cocks, Bo?” Nick asks, ignoring your squirming. You felt claustrophobic in between these two. Everything they did was almost too much, too intense and too rough and too hurried, but the thought of them leaving you after all this, aching for their touch, was enough to kill you. His voice was light as if he were discussing the weather with the other man and not about whether or not your tongue should be cut from your fucking mouth. “Wouldn’t you miss it, man? How warm and tight their throat is? So perfect…”

Nick drags his hands down your neck as if he were imagining you on your knees for him then and there, taking his cock like you had done hundreds of times before, some before Bo but most after. Bo liked to watch, liked seeing how he brought this sick sadistic side of Nick out. You remember the first time they both used you, when Nick didn’t pay attention to your whimpers of pain as he pushed inside, how he seemed focused only on his own pleasure, looking at you only to call you a name that you had never seen pass his lips before, the same name Bo had called you before. Pet. Bo had been watching, directing, and had met your eye after the third round with a smile. “Seems he got the hang of it all, doncha think?”

Bo hums. They had been touching you everywhere except where you needed them and you were getting desperate and they knew you were too. It would be embarrassing if they hadn’t already trained you to enjoy it. “Guess you’re right. Maybe we can get one last good one in before we do it.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder and you yelp in pain, feeling the skin break underneath his teeth. He keeps biting for a moment longer just to hear your cries, just to smell the fear seep out of the wound before he pulls away. You look up at him, tears spilling down your cheeks, and he grins. Blood covers his teeth.

You knew if given the chance - if given a reason - Bo would be more than happy to rip your throat out with his teeth, pull and tear the muscle from your body, feel the warm blood cover his mouth and the front of his shirt, savor the taste. When you look at Nick, his eyes are on the shallow wound of your shoulder and he swallows hard, eyes trained on the blood dripping from the mark. You wonder what would happen to him if you were gone. Nick and Bo didn’t seem to interact much unless you were involved. Would Bo kill him too? Would Nick even want to live?

The idea of the two of them moving on and finding someone new to replace you fills your gut with a slow-moving panic, one that you suppose is always there inside you, just under the surface. And then Nick is looking at you and you're taken back to before Ambrose, to the guy you had thought about marrying, to the late nights and soft kisses and praise that dripped from his tongue like honey. It’s all gone now. That Nick had died the moment Bo had met him and had seen himself inside, festering under Nick’s skin like an infection. Maybe that version of Nick never really existed at all.

The moment is gone and you’re back in the dusty house between the stranger and your lover and you don't know either one anymore.

“Please,” you say and both men stay silent, waiting for you to continue. Your voice sounds foreign to you now, thrown far behind you like a puppet on a string. “I wanna be good.” Nick smiles and again, for just a moment, it’s like you’re back home with him, but then the glint in his eye is back and you know you’re so very far from home even when you’re pressed against it. “I like when you both touch me.” Your face is hot at the admittance but you’re rewarded with a soft groan behind you as Bo finally loosens his grip. Your hip feels numb. “Please don’t stop.”

“See?” Bo coo’s in your ear, pulling away from you for a second to undo his belt. The sound is Pavlovian and you whimper, falling into Nick's arms, mouth filling with saliva, ass sticking out. Both men laugh at you but you can’t bother to care now. The dam holding back your panic from bubbling to the surface had broken and you were ready to cry, to beg, to do anything and everything they asked. “Was that so hard?”

His voice reminds you of what it was like to be scolded as a child and you feel a wave of humiliation wash over you as Nick cradles your head in his hands. He presses his fingers into your neck and you whimper, pain shooting down your spine. “Doing so good,” he says, kissing your forehead. Instead of comforting you, it does the opposite, sending goosebumps up your arms. You had been in this situation with the two of them countless times and you knew better than to let Nick's praise be just that. It was always a ploy, shielding the true reason behind his kind words and actions. “Gonna let us use you, aren’t you?”

“‘Course they are, the freak.” You feel Bo’s cock press against you and he groans, cursing under his breath as one hand lines himself up to your entrance, the other pressing down onto your lower back, forcing you to bend over a bit more. Nick lets go of you and you cling to his jeans, face pressed against his crotch as you feel a glob of spit land on you followed by Bo’s thick fingers smearing it across your hole before pushing inside. The force of his thrust and the pain ripping through you at the intrusion despite all of the teasing has you jolting forward with a cry and Nick takes advantage, grabbing the back of your head and pushing you into his crotch harder. “Gettin’ off on this, fuck, they’re so fuckin’-”

Bo cuts himself off with a groan, finally all the way in, and he wastes no time in setting a rhythm. It was for his pleasure and you knew better than to expect him to touch you, not while he’s busy chasing his own high, his pants around his ankles and his blood-stained shirt in his teeth. “So fuckin’ obedient, right?” Nick finishes, letting your head go and nodding at you. Your hands are shaky as you work on his jeans, your face still pressed against the denim. “Gonna be good and take our cocks just like they were made too, right? Just like we taught ‘em?”

“If they know what’s good for them they will,” Bo replies, sentence muffled by his shirt still in his mouth. When you finally fish Nick’s cock out of his jeans you don’t wait for permission, instead taking him into your mouth with a fervor. You felt complete like this, Bo inside you, fucking you with reckless abandon, Nick in your mouth, moving with slow and deep thrusts, reveling in the feeling of you choking around him.

Drool was spilling from your mouth onto the wooden floor underneath you, dripping down your chin and chest. Your hands were on Nick's thighs in a weak attempt to keep him from plunging his cock down your throat, but you and he both knew that if he really wanted to, you’d let him. Not that you had much choice in that matter, of course.

“Could stay like this all day,” Nick grunts, tilting his head down at you to watch as you take more of his cock with each sharp thrust Bo does. “A pretty dumb thing on my cock getting split open… yeah, could do this all night. How ‘bout you, Bo?” Bo grunts in agreement, too caught up in the feeling of you squeezing around him. Nick grins, sucking in a shakey breath before pulling you off of him and bending down to be face-to-face with you.

There are tears spilling from your eyes and your lips are swollen, spit covering the bottom half of your face, and you’re looking at him with such a needy look that he almost feels bad enough to help you out. Almost. “You’re gonna play with yourself and make yourself cum before Bo and I do or you don’t cum the rest of the night, okay, baby?” He asks, waiting for you to acknowledge what he said.

“O-okay,” you choke out, hand reaching in between your legs. Nick’s eyes light up and he stands, giving Bo a sick smile before tapping his cock onto your wet cheeks. Your hand moved quickly, not moving in any particular rhythm or pattern, mouth opening for Nick. Now that your own orgasm was on the line, all three of you were doing whatever you could to cum first and you knew you were in for a long night.

The pleasure that had been building in your gut all night with their teasing finally comes to a head and you cum quickly, hands sputtering in their movement. Your eyes are squeezed shut, a gargled moan leaving your body as Nick face fucks you, holding the back of your head to keep you still, Bo and he working in tangent to keep you full at all times. Bo is the first to cum, doing so with a choked moan. He wraps an arm around your waist to keep you fully sat on him as Nick finishes deep in your throat, pulling out enough to leave the tip in so you can swallow around him.

“Good little bitch, doin’ what they’re told,” Bo finally says after Nick pulls out of your mouth, running a hand down your back in an almost soothing gesture. You give Nick a weak and pleased smile, exhausted. “Ready to switch, man?” Your eyes widen as Nick nods, looking down at you with a faux-apologetic smile.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says, taking his calloused thumb and wiping spit from the side of your mouth. “You get to cum as much as you like tonight.” And then the men are moving positions, Nick using his slender fingers to push Bo’s cum, which had begun to leak out of your hole, back inside. Bo takes a moment to walk off, further into the bedroom where you can’t see him, and you close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of Nick behind you, touching you. If you try hard enough, you could maybe go back to before all of this, to before Ambrose and Bo and this strange relationship. Your stomach twists at the thought. When your eyes open again, Bo is there.

He stands in front of you and you look up, lip quivering at the sight of him. Bo’s sadistic smile doesn’t fade, just grows a little more knowing how afraid you were of him, of how rough he’d be. “Such a good pet,” Bo says in a mocking tone. “You can cum as much as you can.” And then you see the toy he’s holding in his hand and realize that you were about to cum until it hurt to do so. Bo hands it off to you and you take it with a shaky hand knowing that it would be your downfall tonight. “Ready?” You nod before realizing he was asking Nick and not you; you had forgotten that you were here for them, not the other way around.

“More than I’ve ever been,” Nick says and as the two men line themselves up, ready to use you the way that they had molded you to be used, you briefly wonder if you were ready. Bo shoves himself into your mouth first and you realize that no, you weren’t ready, and maybe you wouldn't ever be really ready for this, for them, but it was happening. And as Nick pushes himself inside you slowly, hands soothing the bruises Bo had left, you think that somewhere down the line, you would probably learn to get used to this.

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #multi may #house of wax #bo sinclair #nick jones #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair x reader #nick jones x reader #bo sinclair x reader x nick jones #nick jones x reader x bo sinclair #theres a niche here and i found it #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x you #slasher one shot #bo sinclair fic

178 notes · View notes

ahmnom · 1 year

Text

Cute pregnancy fluff with Bo Sinclair!

Pregnant Y/N gets defensive and snappy when bo sneaks up behind her to steal a bite of her Buffalo chicken pasta bake. Y/n then gets embarrassed at her feral pregnant behavior. Blame it on the hormones for her glaring and snapping and was that a growl??? Bo doesn’t mind though… he’s totally in love and just kisses her and wraps his arms around her to feel the baby. He actually finds it funny and laughs into the crook of her neck, giving her multiple kisses on her shoulders. Y/n let’s him have a bite as an apology :)

Should I start doing little notes like this? Ima start doing lil notes like this…

344 notes · View notes

adalwolfgang · 11 months

Text

Until I Found You

Younger!Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader

Requested By: @charliedawn

Warnings: Reader is a Singer at a bar, takes place before Ambrose became deserted, Lester as a wingman, Pet Names, Slang term Yankee used, Southern Gibberish/Slang, Alcohol, Blood/Foul Language/Bar fight, Little ooc, Bo Sinclair

The local bar is a quaint little place, full of recognizable faces and a good place to have fun, not to mention it’s a great way to make money, every Saturday, you would stand on the small wooden stage singing whatever song was requested by patrons. Tonight's song choice being "Until I Found You" by Stephen Sanchez.

You wouldn't have to be on stage until another hour, so you were given the chance to relax in a secluded section of the bar for employees only. The view was perfect for you to overlook the whole bar while staying out of view of most eyes. Your hair a makeup already prepped and. A simple vodka martini in your hand as you chatted with some of your coworkers since after your show, the bar would be closing for the day.

Your conversation is cutoff by a commotion. You and your coworkers snap your heads to the noise, a broad southern drawl reaching your ears as slurs are shouted out, along with the crash of glass and wood making an impact. A fight had broken out between a group of patrons. A tall brunette and a scrawny blonde man vs what looked to be a group of Yankees.

Your eyebrow quirks up when you listen to half the insults spitting out of one of the brunettes' mouths. With how fast he was talking and with his accent, it all sounded like gibberish. "YER EN' EGG SUCKIN' DAWG IZ WHUT YORE!" Wow....

More insults and punches are thrown at both parties as you watch the scene unfold. Soon your pissed off boss followed by security break up the fight. The Yankees' getting escorted out of the bar since they supposedly started the fight. The scrawny blonde man tries his best at holding back the raging brunette who is still sputtering insult after insult. Half of them making no sense to you or your coworkers.

After everything settles down, you watch as the duo walk to the wooden barrier that is located along the length of the bar. After finishing your drink, you check the clock mounted on one of the walls. You still had a few minutes to spare before you needed to be backstage in preparation for your show. You stand to your feet and start making your way to the bar. You rest your elbow on the bar, resting your chin in your hand. "Another martini please Dan" you ask with a cheeky smile. Dan was one of the bartenders that would sometimes give you and other coworkers a drink on the house.

He places down the glass he was cleaning before giving a small nod with a smirk. "You nervous to go on stage?" he asks as he walks over to the many options of alcohol. Grabbing a bottle of vodka and a martini glass. You shrug your shoulders, "Only thing to keep my nerves low." He finishes making your drink, sliding it over to you. "Yeah? Well, you best be careful with how much you consume. Wouldn't want you getting on stage drunk off your ass."

You just roll your eyes playfully in response, taking a sip of your drink. As you do so, you feel eyes bore into you. You look in the corner of your eye to see the brunette from earlier, sitting right next you. He quickly notices your gaze but doesn't look away. Instead, he gives a wink as he tips his glass to you, taking a swig. Your face instantly heats up as you can't help but return a small smile to him. "Aren't you the guy who was throwing those insults earlier?" you ask with a raised brow.

Now it's his turn to be embarrassed. "Ya' saw thet?"

"I did." You give a chuckle before asking, "Would you be kind enough to explain what you were sputtering at the other group? Your accent made it hard for me to understand what you were saying." He gives a small smirk before letting out a hearty laugh.

"Now whut' kind of gentlemen would ah bay tuh tell uh purdy women lahk you thet? Thet would bay gist plain rude uh meh." You can't help but smile at his choice of words. Very charismatic. "You have a nice accent."

After some more flirty banter back and forth, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see one of the guitarists. "We're on in 10 minutes." He says with an embarrassed smile, feeling bad for interrupting the conversation. You turn back to look at the man.

"It was nice chatting with you, but I need to get to work. See ya around mister" you say with a wave goodbye before following the guitarist through the crowd to backstage. Bo was about to reach out to grab your wrist, but Lester stopped him. "Ahdn't do it Bo. Ya should tawk' tuh' her afterwards. Hey, yer might git lucky" Lester mutters into his ear before patting him on the back. Bo looked gave Lester a pointed look before looking back toward your form. His eyes held yearning, but he then thought back to Lesters words before shaking his head and turning in his stool back toward the bar. He most definitely would talk with you after.

(Time skip, lights point toward the stage, everyone quieting down.)

The guitarist from earlier appears on stage as the bar goes quiet. He starts strumming on his guitar, and singing the opening to the song. "Georgia, wrap me up in all your. I want you in my arms. Oh, let me hold you. I'll never let you go again like I did. Oh, I used to say. I would never fall in love again until I found her. I said, I would never fall unless it's you I fall into. I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her. I found you~"

You then walk out on stage, holding a vintage mic to your lips, "Heaven, when I held you again. How could we ever just be friends? I would rather die than let you go. Juliet to your Romeo, how I heard you say~" As you sing, you sway your body a little on stage, circling the guitarist as he strums his guitar.

Then you both join together, "I would never fall in love again until I found her. I said, I would never fall unless it's you I fall into. I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her. I found you~"

Bo watches you from his seat at the bar with a slack jaw and mesmerized look, the way you capture everyone’s attention, just like a siren, and everyone in the bar is completely transfixed on you both. He notices the way the dim lights shine against your skin, making you glow as the lyrics flow so heavenly from your lips, he could watch you forever.

The song ends with a close, the guitarist singing the last part of the song. "I would never fall in love again until I found her. I said, I would never fall unless it's you I fall into. I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her. I found you~"

The room falls silent before a round of applause tears through the air, and you smile. You and the guitarist bow to each other before bowing to the crowd. Not soon after, you walk off the small wooden stage. Some coworkers huddling over to congratulate you both.

(Time skip, again. Soon as almost everyone is out of the bar, except of few employees and patrons being passed out drunk.)

After getting changed out of your performance clothes, you head toward the exit, waving bye to some of your coworkers. Too say you were exhausted would be an understatement. Before you can get but only a few feet from the bar, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and someone clearing their throat. You turn around and nearly jump in surprise when a bouquet of flowers are in your face.

"Ya did purdy good up on thet' stage sweetheart."

Your eyes widen when you hear the broad southern drawl from the man at the bar. You peak over the bouquet of flowers to see him rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You notice he is no longer wearing the mechanic suit like before. Instead, it's a black suit, with a black jacket to go along with it. His hair slicked back, except for one strand poking out. You take the flowers from him, giving them a small sniff before smiling back at him.

"Would it be rude of me to ask what these are for?"

Bo goes to answer but his words get caught in his throat. He avoids your gaze for a minute, before turning his head. You quirk a brow, following his gaze before stifling laugh. His brother was peeking out behind one of the buildings close by, trying to mouth something to Bo and gesturing for him to keep talking. Bo lets out a hard sigh before turning back to you with a polite smile. "Gist may showin' ya southern hospitality," he says before wetting his bottom lip, "Ah know thus might bay very bold uh may but...." He clears his throat, "Can ah invite ya tuh have dinner with may wun night? Thayure's thus' new restaurant in Ambrose, maeybe' we could try it together?"

"Like a date?"

Bo chuckles at your question, looking at the ground for a moment before looking back up to you. "Ah mean.....Ahdn't make no protest."

You give a laugh. Bo couldn't help but swoon right then a there. He gets so caught up in his head, he almost trips forward, quickly catching himself and standing up quickly. "How about I meet you back here tomorrow night? Same time. After my show, we can go to this new restaurant." Bo's face lights up at your proposal. "Alright! Same tahm', tuhmorrow' night. Got it." He nods his head in agreement. He turns to go back toward his brother but stops in his tracks before turning back to you. He softly takes your hand in his, pressing a quick kiss to it before walking backwards then spinning around, walking back to his brother. He gives Lester a big smile before doing a small jump in victory to you saying yes.

He couldn't wait for tomorrow night.

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

58 notes · View notes

slaasherslut · 9 months

Text

Completely His

Ava Walker OC x Bo Sinclair

Summary: “Why are you mad?” “I’m not mad, I just think you can choose better people to kiss.” from this post

Warnings: Female OC x Bo Sinclair, female anatomy, forcible confinement, forced kissing, blood, possible allusions to stockholm syndrome, mentions of sex

1.7k words

Ava shoved her hands in her jacket pockets as she approached the gas station. The muffled sounds of the metal music mix she left in Bo’s stereo from the night before was blasting through the hollow looking station, indicating that Bo was inside and probably in the basement. The slight chill of the wind on her bare legs felt lovely compared to the string of hot summer nights that had plagued Louisiana for a few days now. It was a relief to not be sweating through every article of clothing again. Her cotton pyjama shorts did nothing to block the cold breeze but she didn't mind, the gas station would be warm anyways.

A muffled cry for help was barely heard as Ava walked between the two rows of gas pumps right outside the building. A few steps forward past the second row of pumps gave way to confirm her suspicions. Her dark green eyes went even darker as she approached the small metal grate in the cement at her feet, her gaze downcast. Ava watched as a young woman roughly her age was restrained in her darling Bo’s “work space” just below her. Wisps of dark hair encircled her as she fought her restraints. The tears that ran down her cheeks reflected the light of the fluorescent bulbs above her. The familiar coverall clad man stepped into view. He grabbed her cheeks and squeezed, causing her lips to form into a forced pucker. Small whines left her mouth as Bo licked his lips. Ava couldn't see it but she knew that the look of animalistic hunger flooded his eyes. It was a look from him she knew well. He squeezed harder once again before pressing his mouth against her pursed lips. Ava felt a harsh drop in her gut as she watched. It was normal, and she was aware of his debaucherous escapades down in the basement. The wall next to the door was like a time capsule of photos of all the girls who have seen the inside of his shackles. One standing out of herself that she marked with a dark lipstick coated kiss.

She just couldn't help but feel queasy knowing what he was doing to other women down there. The jealousy and spark of anger in her chest made her feel heavy.

The girl in the chair squeezed her eyes shut as attempted to turn her head to avoid Bo’s kiss. She cracked open her eyes and looked up through the grate above her, no doubt feeling Ava’s glare. She made eye contact with Ava through the thin metal slits and her eyes blew wide open. She began to thrash harder and try to scream louder through Bo’s mouth. Her cries for help would fall on deaf ears as Ava nonchalantly finished her trek into the gas station.

As Ava threw the door open, the bell above her head dinged. She couldn't hear it though over the loud music that blasted even louder now that she was inside. The music grew and faded as she walked through the station and down into the sublevel. The screaming and growling of the music was now being replaced with the screaming of the young woman and the growling of Bo. Her heavy boots trudged through the short hallway, she could spy the door on the left at the end of the hall that led to Bo’s secret hideaway. It was no secret to her though. It was left open a crack and she could see skinny jean clad legs thrashing in the chair. A gravelly loud yell echoed throughout the basement as the music started to drift farther as she went deeper underground.

“FUCKING BITCH!” Bo yelled from his hidden place somewhere in the room behind the old door. Ava couldn't see him but she knew he was back there. She swung the door open the rest of the way with a loud creak and stepped inside. Bo was rummaging through a drawer in his work bench just next to the chair. She watched as he angrily took out a roll of duct tape that was nearly gone and tore off a piece of the tape with his pearly white teeth. He winced as he pulled the tape back from his mouth. His bottom lip was covered in blood and the sticky side of the tape also had a small smear of his blood. He harshly slapped the sticky, blood slicked tape over her mouth. A guttural “shut the fuck up” slipped through gritted teeth as he rubbed the tape into the flesh of her sore lips.

“She's tasting his blood.” Ava thought as she walked deeper into the room. Her silent words were full of envy. “I'm the only one who deserves to spill his blood and have it gush down my throat.”

Bo was now in a sour mood. He cursed loudly as he brought his rough fingertips up to lightly touch his lip. He winced slightly with a growl as he pulled his finger back to find his own fresh blood on the pad of his finger. Bo looked up at Ava, flashing her a quick glance at his blood covered finger.

“She fuckin bit me,” Bo seethed. He turned his attention from Ava to the other woman. “The stupid BITCH!” He shouted with a harsh frustrated kick to the bottom of the chair. His burst of anger made her scream louder behind the tape, Bo didn't seem to care.

The blood on his finger started to slowly drip and Bo popped the finger in his mouth, sucking the digit clean. The strong taste of iron, sweat and oil swirled through his mouth as his tongue lapped at his bloody finger before popping it out of his gore coated mouth. Blood from his busted lip dripped down his chin and left tiny crimson droplets on his white undershirt that barely peeked out of his coveralls. It stood out even more against the fabric as it soaked in. Ava knew she would have a bitch of a time scrubbing those stains out later. He brought his arm up to wipe the blood from the bottom half of his face. His long wet tongue, dampened with the other girl's saliva, ran across his opened lip where the bleeding was now starting to slow. His dark eyes flickered up and towards his doll across the room, his girl. The chair with the trashing girl still in between them.

“The fuck is that for?” Bo sneered. Ava could practically feel her eyes rolling into the back of her skull.

“What?” She asked with the same amount of malice he gave her. She stood facing him with a hip cocked, her arms crossed under her breasts in annoyance. Bo’s eyes subtly travelled downward to her pushed up breasts in an old faded band tee of his that she had cut up and made her own. It belonged to him as a younger man and no longer fit. She always claimed them instead of the trash bin. His eyes quickly flicked away.

“That stupid fuckin look yah got on yer face.” Bo lazily pointed toward the annoyed expression across her pale face. ”The fuck are yah so mad for?”

Ava glared at him. “I'm not mad,” she turned away. She stared at the occupied chair and restraints, the same glare still across her face. ”I just think you can choose better people to kiss.” Bo stared at her for a moment, listening to Ava grumbling about how "she wasn't even that cute". A wicked grin slowly worked its way up his cheeks.

“I think someones jealous.” His voice was husky as he raised an eyebrow at her. His boots were heavy against the cement floor as he slowly stepped towards her.

Ava scoffed. She was indeed jealous, she always was. She wanted his lips and body to belong to her and her alone but that just wasn't the case. She wanted to be greedy with him. To be the only one to kiss his teeth and suck his bones dry of marrow. She wants him to be fully hers like she was completely and utterly his.

“I'm not jealous!” She dropped her arms to her sides. Bo stood before her and stared down at her lying form. He knew she was lying but his blood rushed knowing just how infatuated she was with him.

Bo smirk never faltered as he reached around to grab a fistful of her bleach blonde hair tightly in his fist, yanking her towards him and smashing his chapped lips against hers. Ava felt the air being knocked out of her lungs at the force of his kiss. She felt a sick pride swell in her chest knowing that the other woman was watching her man kiss her with such puissant vigor. Bo immediately pushed his tongue past her lips in a wet tease. Ava’s fingers roughly gripped his mechanic coveralls as their heated kiss continued. Bo’s hand still being in her hair, he tugged her back. Ava finally took in a deep breath once her mouth was exposed to the dusty basement air once again. Her wet lips parted in a heavy intake.

Bo swiped his thumb along Ava’s top lip, circling around to the bottom, collecting the saliva and the smear of his blood that had transferred from his lips to hers during their forceful kiss. He began pushing his thumb past her plump lips and Ava eagerly opened for him, wrapping her lips around his thumb and moaning as her tongue lapped at the digit. Bo tugged at his bottom lip next to the open wound with his teeth as he watched her take him so well. Ava giggled around his thumb before Bo slipped it out from between her lips. He delicately pressed his wet thumb to the underside of her chin and made her look up at him.

“You shouldn't be jealous. She aint got nothin' on you dollface.” The two lovingly smiled at each other. “You know she ain't stayin’, Vince has got plans for her anyway.” The two looked over as the woman's thrashing became louder. Bo laughed while Ava rolled her eyes. First she kissed her man and now she's ruining their soft moment? Ava wasn't pleased.

“Wanna show her that you're mine, doll?” Bo asked, his devilish smirk darkening his eyes as he turned back towards her. Ava looked back at him and nodded excitedly. Bo chuckled at her excitement as he began unbuckling his belt.

“C’mon then, show ‘er that you can bend over and take my cock like a good bitch.”

☾ notes: You guys have no idea how absolutely feral these two together make me. I've been thinking about them constantly and don't be surprised if there's more in the future. I wanna be sandwiched between them like some subby meat between two slices of hot bread. Like a sexy panini.

☾ tag list: @rottent33th, @damien-mlm, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @the-pinstriped-hood, @allthingsblood, @25bohemianmoons, @devil-doll13, @goldrose-star

message me if you want to be added to my tag list!

#bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #ava walker oc #slasher #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher fucker #slasher community #bo sinclair x oc #bo sinclair fic #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax

15 notes · View notes

lightofthemoonglow · 1 year

Text

nsfw starters; fifty reasons to have sex

Category Two: risky/kinky/strangers

9.‘i’m/your pregnant and horny’ sex

Bo Sinclair (who totally came up randomly, I swear!)

He slips into bed, smelling of vanilla and cloves from his soap and something menthol-ish from his shampoo. It’s late, past midnight according to the alarm clock on the bedside table. You yawn, having only just woken up because of unsubtly he had gotten into bed. But Bo is warm, his touch so gentle that you don’t mind, not at all.

“You’re naked.” You murmur as you fully wake up, slowly opening your eyes to the sight of Bo sitting next to you , not having bothered with a towel. Not that it matters, considering your current condition. Which seems to be what Bo’s attention is focused on.

“It’s really happening, huh?” Bo’s voice is low, almost reverent as one of his hands goes to rest on the swell of your belly. It’s only recently started showing, and he hasn’t had much time to appreciate it, not with how busy things have been. He moves both of you around until he’s settled between your legs, both hands on your bump right now. You can feel him against your leg, he’s hard, but right now, he’s focused on you and being at the center of his world is dizzying. “We made a little baby…”

“Yeah we did. You did say that you always get what you want.” That night, the night you knew had been The Night, Bo had been grinning like a madman, practically drooling onto your breasts as he had used his fingers to stuff his cum back inside of you. It was going to take, it had to take because Bo wanted this more than anything now that you were married and as he had said, he got what he wanted.

“Fuck, babygirl…” Bo’s body moves upward, until you’re face to face and his length is pressed against your inner thigh. “I wanna make you feel good.” He’s grinding against you, one hand between your legs, feeling how wet you are. A finger, then a second, easily slip in. It’s comfortable, you’ve taken so much more, but you still gasp as the second settles in, and then do it again, but louder, when both fingers start to move, his thumb rubbing your clit slowly, making you whine because it’s not enough.

“Please, I need you. Bo, please.” You’re begging, nearly crying when he pulls his fingers out.

“Why should I?” He asks and it’s almost mean, but you know him, it’s not going to be cruel.

"Because I'm yours. All yours. This baby is yours, you put it in me and I need you, oh god Bo, please-"

His entering you is quick, sudden, like a viper. Bo groans in your ear, muttering filth as he quickly thrusts, as if he's in some sort of delirium. "So fucking wet and warm, baby. Perfect little cunt, just for me. Can't believe this is all mine, you're all mine. My sweet wife, yeah? All mine, gonna fill you up again even though you don't need it. But you're gonna after this, because I want a whole pack of kids from you."

All you can do is sob in pleasure, nodding as his cock fills you to the point where you feel like you're going to break. "Yes, yes, yes. Need you Bo, so much. Life wasn't any good before you. Oh god!" You come, his fingers and cock bringing you over the edge and just like he promised, he fills you up with his cum, your thighs wet and sticky as Bo rolls off you, pulling you into his arms.

It's not just sex, it stopped being that a long time ago. The kiss to your forehead and totally enveloping embrace that he pulls you into as both of you fall asleep is the norm.

#bo sinclair x reader #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #slashers x reader #bo sinclair fic #house of wax fanfiction

15 notes · View notes

slashersidewhore · 5 months

Text

Slashers! HC how you first meet them pt.2

Slashers x f!reader

Includes Bubba Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Art The Clown, Stu Macher

Warnings: mentions of murder/violence, some stalking/harassment (not by slashers), ill intentions, pre-relationships, reader is a bit self deprecating, shitty friends

Bubba Sawyer

Of course you’d been dragged on a girls trip, and of course the minute the engine blew in you were shoved from the back seat onto the side of the dusty, gravel road, laughed at and told, “go find a mechanic”

God forbid your so called friends, which now you were rethinking the decision to even be here and with them, chose somewhere to travel where there was actual cell service

So here you now were, standing on an old porch that you weren’t even sure was properly attached to the house barely kept upright and covered in chipped paint

“Hello?”

A few more knocks on the creaky front door echoed out before your patience ran out, turning the handle and finding it to be unlocked

“Uh, hello? If I’m breaking and entering just let me know but this place seems abandoned”

You cupped your mouth and spoke, just to cover all your bases in case you were actually entering someone’s home, although the cobwebbed walls and moth bitten carpet spoke otherwise

“This isn’t creepy at all…”

Wandering aimlessly through the houses threshold, you searched for something that you help back on the road where all your friends were waiting

Or maybe you were just hoping this would buy you time before you had to walk 4 miles back to tell them you came up with nothing, no mechanic, no help

Your eyes glanced across the room, taking in all the items scattered about, some miscellaneous and some meticulously placed

Then your curious gaze landed on an ash tray sitting beside a moldy plate of what looked like some kind of meat

Although the fluffy possibly-poultry wasn’t what alarmed you, the smoke filtering from the end of a half smoked cigarette resting on it did

“Boys, we’ve got a fresh one”

A deep voice hollered, a rough palmed and smelly hand slapping over your mouth to muffle the hale scream that had popped from your lungs due to shock

Before you could even think to fight against the obviously strong body pinned to yours, you were being dragged towards an open basement door and thrown down the narrow, wooden staircase like a rag doll

“Take care of er’ will ya?”

The voice of your captor yelled down from the top step, slamming the door behind himself and surely locking it in the process

Disoriented and nurses a now slight headache, you mustered the energy to prop yourself up, hazy eyes bouncing about the room before they landed on what could only be described as a large, terrifying figure standing a few yards away

He wore a stained and tattered apron, brown stains you were hoping were dirt and not dried old blood

One hand gripped a cleaver, whatever he was chopping up before you entered the basement sat mutilated on a work bench, the stench of iron heavy in the air

Despite all that, the man seemed frozen, staring back at you through the eye holes in a poorly sew together mask

“I didn’t even wanna be here,”

You started before you I could stop yourself

“My so called friends dragged me out of my room a few days ago for a last minute road trip, and of course when one of them decided to bring their fuck ass car without checking it out first, it literally gave up on itself and then I get sent out to look for help but guess what! We’re in the middle of nowhere so I found this house and well it’s your house so that’s just my luck”

The man only blinked, body language clearly taken aback that you weren’t screaming bloody murder

“Just, if you’re gonna kill me, can you at least knock me out first so it doesn’t hurt?”

A loud knock at the door startled the two of you, followed by the man from earlier noisily coming down the stairs

“Why haven’t you taken care of er’ yet bubba?”

The man didn’t yell but he definitely sounded upset by this turn of events

The other man, who you now knew was called Bubba, shuffled awkwardly in his spot, rubbing the back of his head before robotically motioning to you, still sat on the floor

“You like er’ huh?

You watched the exchange quietly, although unable to contain the confusion set on you’d features

“Fine, but she’s yours to deal with, you remember what happened last time we took in a stray”

At that you pointedly turned around, staring up at the man that regarded you in terms like you were a dog

“Well I’m not a stray, technically you kidnapped me-“

Bo Sinclair

You weren’t entirely sure how you ended up in this seemingly abandoned town, one minute you were checking the map for your exit and then you missed it

Now you were here, coming to a stop as you realized you needed gas and weren’t anywhere near the hotel you had booked for the night

You definitely weren’t getting the rooms deposit back

Pulling into an empty parking lot, you pulled your phone from the passenger seat only to come up dry when the cell service was next to nothing

Then, before you could warn your heart not to jump out of your chest, a knock on your side window pulled a startled yelp from your throat

A man, not too old but not young either, stood on the other side of the car door, neutral expression morphing into a cheesy smile when your gaze met his and exchanged a few seconds of awkward, panicked staring

Brows raising in realization that the stranger, while sketchy and probably holstering a gun, could maybe help you figure out where you were and where to go

Opening the creaking door to your vehicle you pocketed your pepper spray just in case before hoping out of your seat and into the chilly night air

“You lost?”

“No, I intentionally ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere”

The man chuckled, albeit seeming taken aback by the brash sarcasm about your current situation

“Well good thing you ran into me, little lady”

The man who still carried about like this predicament was the most normal in the world smiled wider when your face pinched up in confusion, placing an open palm out to you

“I’m Bo, and you are, darlin?”

“Someone who knows not to shake hands with a complete stranger”

“Feisty”

“Oh, I’m getting there”

Despite the night breeze tickling the hairs on the back of your neck, you couldn’t help but enjoy the slight banter you were getting into

Although probably dangerous and wildly crazy to be out so late just walking around, this Bo character as charming, and something about his stare was growing increasingly comforting

“You know people don’t usually show up here, especially at night, all alone”

“But do they at least have gas in their tank? Because that’s already one up on me”

Bo threw his head back, whipping his hat off to push back the hair that fell towards his forehead in the fit of deep chuckles

“I’m normally not too inclined towards outsiders, but if you’d like a room for the night, I’d be happy to oblige little lady”

Art the clown

You strode through an alleyway, hands in your jacket pockets as you made your way back home

It was just your luck that the last night plans your friends picked for Halloween happened to be a party at the house of a guy you don’t even know

Especially your luck when only 20 minutes in you were all already abandoned, you’d ride gone and with it your phone charger

Thus, you nursed a bruised ego in a pirate costume, clutching your phone with one hand even though the battery was lost past dead

“Hey you!”

A distinctly male baritone called out from behind, you sped up not bothering to turn and face whatever stranger wanted a late night chat in the middle of an empty, dark alley

“Well that’s not very nice!”

The man responded to himself, deep chuckle furrowing worry lines between your brows

Just your luck, just your damn luck

Turning the corner to what could be described as more favorable to due the abundance of street lights and open space, the lack of people still has your nerves on overdrive

That was until you nearly ran smack into a body around the corner

Although expecting a gasp in surprise or shout in anger, all you received was a shocked expression, one such as a mime would use

Whoever this man was, was clearly wearing a very intricate costume, clown makeup done to the 9’s and a fully tailored suit to match, with a hefty, tan bag slung over one shoulder

All of your courage of wanting to leave this awful situation, and fear of what would happen if you didn’t took hold, before you knew it you were panicked and leaning forward, watching with just as much curiosity as the clown eyed you

“Listen you don’t know me, but there’s this guy following me and if you could just pretend to be, I don’t know, a friend, I would appreciate it”

The clown seemed to understand immediately, bright grin tossed on his features as the stranger that had previously had your full attention came to a stuttering halt

“Lady, I was talking to you back there”

“Oh! Sorry I just was meeting with someone and well, here they are!”

You laughed nervously, awkwardly leaning into the clown and patting at his shoulder, gazing at the stranger, you saw a look of terror cross his face right as he stumbled back a bit

“Yeah, got it”

And then he was high tailing it back the way he came

Glancing back at the costumed man you stood alone with, you caught how his face held a look of something utterly terrifying before he caught your eye, cheesy grin returning

“Thanks..”

You questioned for his name, grinning softly at the way realization of your ask spread across his face

Hand motions went left and up, down and right, then he paused, pulling the bag from his shoulder to rummage through it, pulling out what could only be described as junk, metal and rusty and junk none the less

Although the way he motioned to the item, placed it in your open palms and played a scene before you, you took to guessing

“Metal?”

“Sculpture…?”

He moved his fingers like a painter would stroke a canvas

“Art?”

That single word had the clown clapping his hands, tucking his body with a faux bow like you’d discovered something only a genius could

Laughing something genuine for the first time that night, you pondered if you should just take your chances and leave for home, or stick around a bit more with this concerning but most definitely interesting person

“So.. what else do you have in that bag?”

Stu Macher

Being the new student in a town where everyone already had friends, or at least those they only socialized with, was difficult

You’d only been here a week or so and you already wanted to move again, alas, that wasn’t exactly up to you

All you could do was hold your head high, and suck up the annoying situation you’d been tossed into

Now, a new school was bad enough, imagine your surprise would you found out there had recently been a string of grisly murders, unsolved and rampaging

Which is why you’d been an outcast since you’d appeared, like they all assumed it must be you, the murders starting, you arriving, it all was too much of a coincidence, despite the fact that it was

“Look at her, I’m telling you that girl gives off crazy”

Off handed comments like those weren’t unusual, yet today, after switching to a new class because of this exact issue, you’d had enough

“I bet she’s the killer”

“Oh yeah? And what’s your evidence?”

The girl gossiping with her friend abruptly stopped her ‘private’ conversation when she heard your quip

“Excuse me?”

You stood, in fact you stood so fast it made the chair screech across the floor, catching the attention of the rest of class

Luckily the teacher had stepped out and you could finally say what you needed without worry of authority looming over

“You know, if I’m supposedly killing students, like you say I am, why so proudly speak about it around me?”

You strode up to her desk, arms crossed with a look of disdain

She seemed taken aback, lips moving like a fish and head bobbing as she glanced between you and her friend

“Well, I-“

“If you really think I’m doing all this, why would you piss me off?”

The girl was at a loss, face paling as you simply said what you needed, before turning and grabbing your bag right as the bell went off, students funneling out behind you

Opening your locker, you startled when a body came crashing into the locker beside yours, arms crossed and looking at you with squinted eyes yet a wide grin

“So you’re the new girl?”

He wasn’t half bad looking, in fact, you found yourself heating up the longer he gazed down at you

He had this odd air about him, like someone holding too many secrets and hiding them far too out in the open, something that only seemed to allure you further

“And a murderer, haven’t you heard?”

You joked, taking out your next classes books before shutting the locker, the look on this guys face was utter curiosity, something you hadn’t received yet while being here

“Of course, just let me know what days you spree so I can avoid staying in”

Not gonna lie to y’all, I was so focused on getting this posted I haven’t spell checked or done a once over, there will and most likely are errors!

#slasher #slasher x reader #art the clown #art the clown x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #Bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x you #slashersidewhore #slashersidewhore fics

865 notes · View notes

haddonfieldwhore · 1 month

Text

god loves you, but not enough to save you - bo sinclair

bo sinclair x fem!reader

please read warnings !

summary: bo sees you as his next victim. you see him as your last hope

warnings: stockholm syndrome speedrun, implied domestic abuse, language, mentions of death, blood, alcohol and smoking, some religious references sprinkled in, bo is bo

word count: 2k

your eyes fluttered open as you felt your body thud onto a chair with a creak, the metal frame unstable under any amount of weight. it wouldn’t break though. he tightened all the bolts himself; checked everything so nothing would go wrong. as unorganized as this hellscape of a room seemed to anyone else, bo knew where everything was; every pair of pliers, every blade. he was meticulous, sometimes damn near a perfectionist. not that any his guests were here to admire the furnishings.

in the rare instance that things didn’t go how he planned, he himself became unpredictable; became even more terrifying. but this was different. something in your eyes was different, and it drove him mad.

you didn’t scream, just looked around frantically to gather what was happening. everything that had happened. your ankles were taped together, and you were in a basement. your head hurt like you’d been hit with something, as you remembered the road trip you had been on with your boyfriend, nathan.

you remembered the washed out road

the gas station

oh god, where was nathan?

the man from the gas station….. bo…

“yeah sweetheart?” your focus snapped to the face of the man currently restraining you to the chair, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. how much had you said out loud? why was he doing this?

“please - you don’t have to-“ his hand snapped over your mouth, the smell of dirt and gasoline filling your mouth and nose.

“shhhh, if you scream, i’ll have to hurt ya,” he cooed, and you shook your head gently. with your one free hand that remained unbound to the chair, you gripped his wrist desperately, but your touch was gentle; gentler than any touch he had felt in years. he nearly faltered for a second, your fingers hovering over the scars on his wrist. had you noticed them? he wondered.

his hesitation allowed you to softly pull his hand away from your mouth.

“p…please, you have to help me. nathan-“

“you think if you bat your pretty little eyelashes at me i’ll let you go back to your boyfriend?” he taunted, but your eyes went wide and you shook your head, frantically this time, and your hand clung onto his arm tighter now. he pulled it from your grip, looking at your face with a confused expression. what game were you playing?

“no - please, you don’t understand - you have to help me,” you repeated, and as he studied your face, he noticed a smudge on your cheekbone. your skin looked different; he spent enough time looking at the damn wax figures to know what a persons skin looked like. he reached his hand towards you slowly, dragging his thumb between your parted lips, wetting the pad of his finger with your saliva. he tasted of iron, and you wondered if he noticed the way you licked your lips when he retracted his hand.

you winced as he gently wiped the digit across your cheek, removing the makeup to reveal a dark bruise, masterfully disguised behind layers of concealer.

something clicked in bo’s head.

something terrible.

something cruel.

here he was, taking you captive and fully intending to kill you. here you were, begging him to be your saving grace. he smiled darkly, your eyes wide as they pleaded with his.

“now that’s no way to treat a lady,” he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “he do this to ya, sweetheart?” he asked, making his voice sound so sweet, you almost believed it was sincere.

“please,” you begged again. maybe if you said it enough times, you would get through to him. a human part of him, if there even was one. “i’ll do anything you want. just please…. he’ll kill me.”

his rough hands held either side of your face, cradling it as he leaned over your body, caging you beneath him. you welcomed it, like a safety blanket.

this had never happened before. he hadn’t even done anything to you yet, and you were already giving yourself over to him. did you not get it? did you not understand that whatever had been done to you, oh lord he could be

much

worse.

it was almost too easy. the chase was half of the game for him. what was the point if you gave up so soon?

he thought about killing you right then. sure, that was no fun - he didn’t enjoy killing people quickly. but it would be so easy to just snap your neck, so delicate in his grasp. just one little twist-

“bo…” you whispered, and his eyes focused again, having zoned out looking at your throat, his chest heaving up and down with adrenaline thinking about just how easily you had surrendered to him. he hadn’t realized that he had leaned closer, so close that he could smell your strawberry chapstick.

you could smell the cigarettes on his breath; the whiskey on his tongue. he captured your mouth with his, teeth tugging roughly at your bottom lip as your heart pounded in your chest.

you shouldn’t like this.

you shouldn’t want it.

but the taste of him makes your head spin.

you reach to touch him with your free hand, but his own hand catches your wrist as you reach for him. maybe it’s instinct; he thinks your fighting back.

you should be.

you know damn well you should be.

the taste of iron fills your mouth again, but it’s not his fingers this time. his teeth have pierced into your lip, staining the kiss with crimson.

“he ain’t never gonna touch you again,” bo whispers as he nuzzles the side of his head against yours, and tears creep down your face.

“promise?”

“i swear to god. he’s never gonna lay another finger on you.”

and he won’t.

you believe him.

this time bo lets you reach for him, your fingers clinging to the front of his stained work shirt that your knuckles ached. the restraints on your other wrist clang against the metal of the chair as you pull at them, wanting to hold onto him. he undoes the leather strap and you reach up, pushing his hat off of his head so you can tangle your fingers through his dark hair. it’s greasy between your fingertips, but you don’t care.

“you look so pretty, darling.” blood stains your lips and your eyelashes are stuck together with tears. you stare up at him like he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and he realizes that you’re long gone already; he’s managed to sink his hooks into you and all it took was one little promise. the devil stands before you and you look at him like he hung the stars. lucifer was once an angel after all, wasn’t he?

a sound above you causes bo to cover your mouth again, gentler this time as he looks up through the grate in the ceiling. footsteps shuffle across the driveway of the gas station, and nathans boots drop dirt through the grate and onto your hair. you screw your eyes shut as you cling to bo, who looks at your cowering form beneath him and smiles.

“i’ll be right back darling,” his hand is still on your mouth as you nod at him with wet eyes, hands trembling as he slowly pulls away.

the room feels cold and empty as soon as he’s gone, his boots heavy as they stomp up the stairs, locking the door behind him.

you breathe a careful sigh of relief.

he’s gone, he can’t hurt me.

nathan’s gone, bo won’t let him hurt me.

with your hands no longer restrained, you undid the duct tape around your ankles, pulling your knees up under your chin and wrapping your arms around them.

footsteps descend the stairs, heavy again as the stairs creak and the lock clicks open.

you should be scared of him.

you should be scared of the knife in his hand. the blood on his wrist.

you should be scared because he was going to kill you, and he still might. but for now, he doesn’t.

at least for right now, he is your saviour.

he tosses the weapon aside, and it clatters onto the metal table next to him. you watch as his fingers slide a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of his breastpocket, and pull one out with his teeth. he lights the end and walks over to you, his fingers tilting your chin up to look at him.

your hand reaches up to wipe a splatter of blood off the side of his neck, and you almost don’t notice the way bo freezes for just a second as you touch him. his hand wraps around your wrist and brings your fingers to his lips, sucking the end of each finger past his lips until all the blood is gone, his eyes never leaving yours.

god, the way you look at him.

he’s never seen anything like it. it isn’t fear.

it’s a look of devotion.

he offers you the cigarette and you take it between your fingers with your other hand.

“you ready to go home?” he asks, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“home?” you asked, taking a drag of his cigarette. you didn’t want it, you just hoped it would taste like him, but it just burnt your throat.

“the house, silly,” he smiled, and it almost looked sincere, like he was amused by you. “just up the road?” he was the bo you had met at the gas station again. the charming one. the sweet one.

the house, you thought. that’s right. he had taken you there to get the part you needed to fix nathan’s car, and the next thing you knew you were waking up here. “did you hit your head or something?” he teased, like he hadn’t been the one who knocked you out in the first place. he walked closer to take the cigarette from your grip, the ash falling onto your lap and sizzling against the layer of sweat on your bare skin. he placed a kiss on the top of your head before extending his empty hand to you, helping you out of the chair.

you followed bo up the stairs and realized you had been beneath the gas station, the sun long set outside. you didn’t know how long you had been down there.

“watch your step,” he mumbled, and you looked down at the pool of blood on the floor, and the trail of it, like something had been dragged across the floor and out of the store.

“nathan….” you asked, the word tasted vile in your mouth. you wiped your lips with the back of your hand for good measure.

“vincent took him out of here. no need to worry, darling,” he promised.

“vincent?” you asked, as he pulled you behind him by your hand, his calloused fingers rough as they interlocked with yours. you liked the way your hand felt in his.

“my brother- you’ll meet him later, he’s workin’ right now. he’s pretty quiet but i think you’ll like him.”

“okay,” you smiled - the first time you had smiled since you woke up in that basement. bo smiled back; and while it looked genuine, it was evil.

he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

and it had been

easy.

he hadn’t even done anything that he wouldn’t have done anyways - all he did was kill nathan.

but in your eyes he had saved your life.

how twisted is that?

bo tried to kill you, and here you were clinging to his arm, like you’d float away if you let go. as if he was the only thing holding you to the ground.

and he was. and he knew it.

there was no saving you now.

not when you believed you’d already been saved.

bo froze as your feet sped up to catch up with him, and your arms circled around his waist.

you were hugging him?

heaven help you, you really were a lost cause.

“thank you,” you mumbled, your head buried in the front of his shirt. bo laughed to himself, and let his arms wrap around you.

“you shouldn’t thank me, sweetheart,” he replied, the double meaning to his statement flying over your head. “what kind of man would i be if i didn’t help you? my momma - she raised me better than that.”

he couldn’t help but smile to himself. “you can meet her too, one day.”

you smiled up at him even though you didn’t get the joke, and he leaned down to kiss your lips. you decided you would never get tired of the taste of his mouth on yours. his lips like a drug.

“you gonna let me walk or we gonna stand out here forever?” he laughed, as you hadn’t let go of him yet.

“just don’t leave me,” you asked pathetically. you would have got on your knees and begged if you had to, even if the gravel would’ve scraped your knees bloody.

“believe me, darling,” he grinned. “i aint never lettin’ you get away.”

#not sure if i like this #bo sinclair fic #house of wax imagine #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #bo sinclair #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair x reader #brian van holt

162 notes · View notes

4doll · 1 year

Note

Theo i'm already read all your rules for request and in that rules you will write +18 but , in the rules you will not accept it says sexism . does that mean sex?! correct me i was wrong . btw, did I request Michael myers , brams heelshire , and bo Sinclair the s/o really likes getting her big tits massaged .❤️😩

You don't have to do it , if you don't feel comfortable wit it .

Btw, i like your blog

𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐒

Micheal first discovered that you liked having your breasts massaged when you were riding him and started to massage your own breasts.

He watched you for a moment, his hands moving up to your waist.

His hands simply took yours off of your breasts. You were confused at first

Then Micheal started to massage them for you, enjoying watching you realize what he was doing and ride him even faster.

After that he had started to massage your breasts during when you would ride him and with positions he could do so.

He loves running his fingers over your hard nipples, grazing over them enough for you to feel it while he’s massaging them.

He also has discovered he loves massaging your breasts, the pure pleasure of watching you ride faster and harder as he massages them turns him on.

𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐇𝐌𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄

Even if he didn’t know that you liked having your breasts being massaged he was obsessed with your breasts.

His hands were always on them, he never noticed how your breath hitched up or the small blush on your face every time he had his hands on your breasts.

But when you letting him thrust up into you he watched you intently as you massaged your own breasts, clenching around him tighter.

He quickly understood, moving your own hands out the way and does it for you. Looking up at you in awe waiting to see your reaction.

His fingers ran over your harden nipples and you came. He was absolutely even more obsessed with you, watching you cum from his a simple touch over your nipples made him teeter over the edge of an orgasm.

After you and him calmed down and cleaned up he asked “So you like when I massage your breasts?” he noticed the small blush on your face and took that as a yes.

He was obsessed with your breasts before but was even more obsessed now. After learning how you can cum from a simple massage and his fingers running over your nipples.

Ever since then every single time you fucked his hands were on your breasts no matter how complicated the position was.

And ever since then he likes cow girl and missionary. Making it easy to massage and touch them.

He loves watching them bounce in his hands as he thrusts into you.

𝐁𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑

He’s very observant, so the first time he had touched your breasts during sex he noticed how you clenched around him and how you rode him even faster.

During when he first touched your breasts during sex he asked “You like that, huh?” and you nodded as you rode him faster.

Ever since then he would massage your breasts during sex and not during sex.

He loves to surprise you from behind when you’re doing something by him putting his hands over your breasts and pulling you close to his chest.

When he doesn’t get to massage your breasts when his hands are full or if the position doesn’t work for him to massage them. He just watches you massage your own breasts, he thrusts into you faster after watching you.

He finds it so hot when you moan and massage your own breasts and clench around him from your own touch.

He also ever since he found this out he has been obsessed with your breasts, he was obsessed with them before but even more obsessed with them after seeing you ride him faster from your own touch.

taglist: @sojaae @strawbearyyyyysblog @starboashee @gr4veyardg1rl

A/N: To answer Anon, no that doesn’t mean sex! And btw thank you! Also for everyone because I’ve hit 300 followers I’ll be posting 3 fics / headcanons over the next few days🤭 Thank you so much for 300 followers btw! <3

2K notes · View notes

fluffy-little-demon · 1 year

Text

Daddy's Perfect Toy

Bo Sinclair x Female Reader

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

This is the nastiest thing I have ever written. and I blame it all on @visceravalentines and @ventiswampwater and both their Bo fics.

This is the first time I have ever written something like this where he isn't your husband he's just holding you captive. My Bo fics are normally soft and comforting but not today. No we're gonna fuck shit up or more like Bo's gonna fuck you up. Now I've only written smut a couple of times so just keep that in mind while reading this.

I'm 5ft and I'm using it in this fic. It does have a tiny tiny bit of softness just cause I can't help it. Reader is on their period during this cause I'm also suffering through it.

Warnings: smut, noncon it's gotten to a point where you kinda sorta like it but not really, bondage, forced orgasms, he is filming the entire thing, taking photos, daddy kink, choking, marking, biting, blood play, creampie, throat fucking, shoves his fingers/thumb in your mouth, dirty talk, degradation, praise, size difference, objectification, overstimulation, dacryphilia, cockwarming, breeding kink, a lot of licking, cunnilingus.

Please let me know if I've missed something.

You woke up sometime in the afternoon with the worst stomach ache you've had in a while. You are sitting with your back against the bed's headrest. Your head falls down as if it's too heavy for your neck to hold up. Your bottom half is completely bare as it would 'restrict access' to have anything on, a certain man would say. The only item of clothing you are wearing is an old shirt that has a few holes in it. You're assuming it's Bo's. Slowly opening your eyes you see a red stain on the bed sheet in between your crossed legs. Your sleepy brain takes a couple minutes to realise that the stain is blood from your period. Your eyes widen as your head shoots up. You begin to panic because you know Bo won't be very happy that you've stained his sheets. You can't move to hide the stain because your arms are bound to the bars on the bed's headrest. Although you know trying to hide it would just piss him off even more.

You have been sitting here for hours. You try to think of what's going to happen next. You're not quite sure what his game is anymore. He told you you deserve a reward for being such a good girl that you went from being tied to a chair in his basement to being tied to his bed in his house. You're not quite sure how long it's been. You wish you knew what was going to happen.

Things were different in the basement. True it was a lot more uncomfortable being tied to that chair but at least you knew the routine. Food, shower then fun time as your captive would call it. You both have very different ideas on what fun is though. The shower however in the basement it consisted of baby wipes. In the house you get to have an actual shower yes but only with him either watching or joining. That little voice in your head that sounded a lot like him reminded you that you hadn't earned privacy yet.

You turn your head to look out the window, noticing it was starting to get dark. It was around this time that Bo would bring you some food down into the basement. Except you had already eaten today. You had a burger and fries that Bo made. He has been giving you actual food since you've moved into his bedroom. You'd never admit this but he is a pretty damn good cook. It's definitely a couple steps up from the microwave meals you were being fed in the basement.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the glow of headlights and the sound of Bo's truck. Sitting up straighter after hearing the door slam shut. You feel yourself smile hearing his loud footsteps. You can't believe you're even a little excited to see him, you feel sick. You straighten out your legs to try and hide the blood even for a little bit. Putting a smile back on your face before the door opens. Bo walks in holding a glass of water, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey baby girl, got ya a drink." he brought the glass to your lips so you could have a drink. Placing the now empty glass on the bedside table. Bo sat by your leg on the edge on the bed facing you. He slowly puts his hand on your knee. You flinch slightly hoping he doesn't notice, if he did he didn't comment. Tracing circles with his thumb, he sighs then looks at you "ya know I've had a pretty shitty day ta day. Hoping you might help me with that"

Before you had a chance to reply, not that he would listen to you anyway he would do what he wanted regardless. You see him setting up a camera. He makes his way back over to you after the light turns green.

He began by softly holding your chin and running his thumb across your bottom lip before pushing it through your lips into your mouth. You knew exactly what he wanted as you began to suck. Bo smirked, immediately moving to attach his mouth to that sensitive spot behind your ear. You were trying not to make any noise. He removes both his hand and his mouth from you before going to undo his belt and tugging his jeans and boxers off.

Kneeling over you so his crotch is right in front of your face. Grabbing his dick he pumps it a few times before lightly tapping the tip against your lips. You reluctantly open your mouth as he presses himself all the way in. Trying desperately hard not to gag because you know he would enjoy it too much and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction. You could already feel tears starting to form in your eyes, your hands gripping the bars. You can feel him lay heavy on your tongue, trying to breathe through your nose. He grabs your head with both hands pulling out slowly and without any warnings rammed it back into your throat. Causing you to choke and gag. You go to try to push him off so you can get some air but your arms are still tied to the bars on the headrest. Bo chuckles darkly as he is full on fucking your throat. Everything, every part of your body feels like it's on fire, you can't help but start crying. Bo looks down on you and a low growl escapes from the back of his throat. "Goddamn princess, you look fuckin gorgeous when ya cry like that!" He grabs his polaroid camera taking a picture of your tear stained face and cock stuffed mouth. Giving the picture a shake then places the camera and the photo back down.

Bo thrusts a couple more times then rips himself out of you before he has the chance to cum. You take in several deep breaths but they are each painful. Your lungs are burning and your throat is hella sore. Bo leans down and starts licking strips up both your cheeks. He then grabs both your thighs and pulls them apart. He sees the blood stain on the sheets, you think he is about to get mad but his eyes darken in a very lustful way. Looking back up at you with a kinda half smile "don't worry bout it darlin' I'll change it afta we done" he winks and spreads your legs even wider. "This is such a pretty pussy, and it's all mine." He dives right in devouring your cunt hands gripping your thighs. You're trying not to make any noise but with his tongue hitting all the right places in your already sensitive cunt it's becoming really hard not too. He growls into your pussy sending vibrations right into your core when he feels your walls clench around his tongue. Moaning, you try to arch your back but it's difficult in the way you're sitting. Releasing one hand from your thigh, he glides a finger through your folds and then another and then another.

You are so so close "b Bo, ohhh 'm c close" you feel him growl again. Sucking and swirling his tongue like it's his last meal on earth. You wish you could grab hold of his hair as you cum hard in his mouth. He had swallowed your juices yet kept going at it. You feel your eyes tear up again as you try to unsuccessfully wiggle your away from his touch. He has an iron grip on your thighs that will no doubt leave a mark. You try tugging your arms against their restraints to push him away.

"Bo, p please" your over sensitive walls clench as his continues to fuck you with his tongue. After your second orgasm hits. Bo's eyes look up at you as he licks straight up your folds. The way the blood is smeared around his face mixed with some of your juices that has dripped down his chin makes him look absolutely gorgeously feral. Bo straightens up to capture your mouth with his. He loves that you kiss him back. You're breathless as you break away.

"You taste fuckin' amazing baby doll, daddy just can't get enough." He has a smug smile as he uses two fingers to scoop up your folds wiping them on your face not forgetting to smear some on your lips. He shoves his fingers in your mouth to suck the rest off before going to untie your arms. Bo takes off his shirt then yours then guides you to lie down. Lines himself at your entrance before gliding in. Kissing your forehead, giving you a little time to adjust.

"Yer so tiny baby, daddy's cock is all up there" he pokes the bump in your belly where he is buried. He pulls out watching the bump go down then rise as he enters you again. Bo does that a couple more times before his pace speeds up. Your brain feels completely fuzzy. You're not even sure if you can produce words at this point. He lifts your legs up into a mating press. Your back arches as you let out an almost pornographic moan. Your nails are clawing at his back as he sucks marks on your neck and chest.

"Ya really are fuckin' made for me princess" Bo groans "my perfect little whore" his hand wraps around your throat squeezing just enough to make it a little uncomfortable. "Who do ya belong to baby? Who does this pussy belong to?"

"Y you Bo"

His hand squeezed a little bit more "who?"

"Daddy it it belongs to you, I b belong to you d daddy"

"Good slut"

Bo loosens his grip on your throat but keeps his hand there as he thrusts into you harder. Your mouth falls open but you don't hear any sound come out. Your nails dig deeper into his back. If he's leaving marks on you, you're gonna mark him too.

Bo feels your wall clench around his cock. He knows you're close. You try saying your close but all that comes out are whimpers and moans. "What d'ya need sweetheart? I can't understand yer whimpering"

"Wanna cum"

"Ya wanna cum?"

You nod

"Where?"

"O on your cock"

Bo looks at you with a smirk like the big bad wolf. "The little cockslut wants to cum on my cock uh. Who would have guessed that?" "Well you have been very good lately so go ahead, cum for me" "m gonna fill you up for being such a perfect toy for daddy to play with. You deserve it princess" Bo sinks his teeth into the part where your shoulder meets your neck drawing blood, leaving another mark. He fucks you through your orgasm and cums deep inside of you.

Stays still for a few minutes before Bo puts his hand under your back and rolls you onto your side with him still buried in your warm cunt. He wraps his arms around you and you can't help but snuggle into his neck very thankful for the comfort and being too fucked out to care.

Tag List: @sketchy-rosewitch @rottent33th @phantomcat394 @lanamiller comment or send an ask if you want to be added or removed.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x female reader #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair fic #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #sinclair brothers #sinclair twins #slasher smut #slasher x reader #slasher fucker #house of wax x reader #kim's writing

155 notes · View notes

a-writer-on-elm-street · 1 year

Text

Random Bo Headcanons Cos I Can't Get Him Out Of My Head:

(just gonna say, these are all my own opinions so if you don't agree with me then that's fine, but please don't come at me okay? thank you)

He has nightmares. Will probably kick the shit out of you in his sleep or something. And then the next morning, he'll claim that he doesn't get nightmares because he "ain't no pussy."

He'll eat whatever's in the house for breakfast, which is usually leftover takeout from three days ago.

If he drinks anything other than beer, then it's probably Vincent's but he takes all Vincent's things anyway because they're "basically the same person, right?" which somehow makes it justifiable.

He can be charming at times, in his own way. He'll probably pull some flowers up from the ground one day and hand them to you with a stupid grin on his face. "You like 'em?" He'll ask. And you can't tell him anything other than yes, despite the fact that you can literally see the soil crumbling off the roots. But you appreciate it, because it's not often that Bo gives you flowers, even if he literally just ripped them straight from the ground.

When you're sick, he'll make sure to tell you you look like shit, before asking you if you'd like juice or beer to drink. And then he'll go out and get your favourite food, but he'll probably just use your money to pay for it. But at least he's made the effort though?

On nights where he's not thrashing about in his sleep, you'll both start out on opposite sides of the bed, but sometime during the night he'll find his way over to you, practically laying his whole body on top of you as he sleeps.

He definitely snores. And it's loud as hell, so much so that you had to get earplugs just to be able to stay in the same bed as him.

a/n: he's a shithead, but we love him anyway <3

[Main Masterlist] [Bo Masterlist]

321 notes · View notes

f1nalboys · 2 months

Text

Gotcha Something - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x Fem!GN!Reader

something short and sweet! happy valentines day guys! enjoy this thing ive been cooking up for a bit and failed at the execution <3

WORD COUNT: 1513

WARNINGS: nice gift gone sexual fr, bo is a perv but hes OUR perv, photos of reader in sexual situations, brief descriptions of wounds and past abuse from bo, stockholm syndrome is our readers defualt setting now, reader has the same scars as bo, bo calls reader his 'girl' but no genitals are mentioned. some nsfw photos and a hint of recorded sex but nothing actually graphic. slight somno mention in one photo. mostly proofread but hey im just a guy

“Happy Valentine's Day, darlin.” Bo places the package onto your lap, sinking down onto the couch beside you. You glance at him with a cocked eyebrow and he grins, something sinister hidden underneath the charming exterior. “What? You ain’t expect me to getcha something?” He asks, placing a large hand over his heart, tsking at you. “You’re my girl, remember?”

He purrs into your ear, the springs of the couch creaking with his shifting weight. He taps the package with his fingers and sits back, waiting. You pick the gift up carefully, letting out a hum at the weight of it. “You wrapped it in newspaper?” You ask, a hint of teasing in your voice, and he snorts, shrugging. “Did a pretty good job, honestly.”

He watches you with an amused expression as you carefully untape the package, pulling the leatherbound photo album out with an awe-filled gasp. “I do good?” He asks you smugly as you fawn over the barely-decorated cover, fingers brushing over the black sharpie. ‘You and I through pictures’ was written in his familiar scrawl, all capital. “Fixed up that old camera I had, been taking photos. Figured I should put it to use.”

“I love it already.” You say and you mean it, you do. You can’t quite remember the time before him, before Ambrose and the suffocating walls of the garage and his house. Leaning over and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, you look back down at the photobook with a small smile. Flipping it open to the first page you gasp, the smile falling as you stare down at the first photo.

It was a polaroid of you. Taken from behind in the garage, you look at yourself looking at the wall of fan belts, one hand down by your thigh, the other reaching upwards to grab one of them. Whoever had taken this photo, Bo you assume, had been hiding from you, the camera taken at a lower angle, the corner of the counter in the bottom left of the frame. Your eyes drag down to the scrawled message just below the photo.

“July 17 ‘20. First Time Meeting.”

“You looked so fuckin’ sexy that day.” Bo whispers, his arm sliding across your shoulder to bring you a little closer to him. You keep looking at the photo. “Knew I had to have you. You remember that?”

You nod your head slightly. “Mostly. It’s hard to remember anything before the garage.” You admit, looking at him. His smile falters, his jaw setting, and you’re quick to continue talking, a flash of panic in your chest. “But I remember meeting you! Your smile, your charm, you know?” You say, forcing a smile, eyes searching his. “I thought you were so cute, I just needed your help to make a move, right?”

“That’s right.” He says, and your shoulders dip as you breathe out in relief. You look back at the photo album, letting your finger trail down your frame in the photo. “Glad you broke when you did,” he purrs into your ear, his hand on your upper arm squeezing tightly for a moment. “That way I got to keep ‘ya. Would’ve been such a waste otherwise.” You hum, agreeing with him. Of course you agreed. Before Bo, you had too many opinions, too many thoughts in your head. He helped you realize your place wasn’t out there in the world, dealing with the headaches of everyday bullshit, it wasn’t here by Bo’s side, helping him get through the day and letting him put up with you. “Keep goin’.”

He sounds excited, leaning forwards to grab his pack of cigs and lighter from the coffee table, lighting one and taking a puff as he watches you flip to the next page. This photo is dated a day later, but the photo makes you wince. You were strapped to the chair in the garage, your face cut to hell, duct tape over your mouth, your eyes filled with tears and fear. You can barely make out the red and raw skin on your wrists and ankles due to the grain and you let out a shaky breath when Bo’s fingers lovingly run along your wrists, the warped skin warm to his touch.

You glance up at him and see his eyes transfixed onto your wrists, a pleased smile on his lips. “You used to cry for so long,” He whispers, pressing his thumb against the scar, the cigarette dangling from his lip. “In the beginning. Used to piss me off, kinda like a dog whinin’.” He chuckles, finally letting go of your wrist. “Kinda turned me on, though. Hearin’ you beggin’ me to let you go, to undo your wrists…”

“Yeah, I know it turned you on,” you say with a slight laugh, tapping the next photo, dated a month and a half later. “See? You even wrote ‘Our First Time’ on it.” This photo does bring a smile to your face. Your face is covered by your hands, dried blood on your wrists, your legs spread wide for him. Your shirt hung off your shoulders and if you think hard enough you can hear the sound of his knife cutting through the fabric. Bo’s jean clad legs could be seen in the bottom of the frame where he was positioned in between your legs. They were unbuttoned and showed off his freckled stomach and the thick line of hair that disappeared under his boxers.

He had been surprisingly gentle that night, lighting the melted down candles and playing jazz on the stereo upstairs. Bo had laid you down on the dirty mattress, his eyes taking in every single inch of your body, his grip only tightening when you attempted to cover yourself. It had been the turning point for you in some strange way, seeing that side of him. It made you realize that he had been telling the truth; you did love him.

“Still just as tight,” he says, his attempt at a compliment as he takes control of flipping through the album. Each photo causes you to blush harder, squirm in your seat. A photo of his cock inside you, bruise marks on your thighs. Another showed you on your stomach, wrists held back by his belt, hand prints on your ass. You strapped to the chair with a smile on your face and a fresh cut on your cheek. You looking up at the camera through your eyelashes and a pleading look. A photo of you sleeping and his cock pressed between your lips.

And those were just the photos where you were mostly aware of the camera.

The end of the photo album had three photos to a page, a quickly scrawled date and word next to each one. The photo of you in the kitchen wearing Bo’s button up shirt at the stove was captioned ‘10/13/21. Cooking.’ The one of you asleep in Bo’s bed was captioned ‘11/08/21. Sleeping.’ You fixing up Bo’s mechanics uniform, 12/23/21. Sewing. You reading a book on the couch, 1/02/22. Relaxing. You with Vincent and Lester at the kitchen playing a boardgame surrounded with pizza and beer, 5/28/22. Game Night. You hunched over a cake with your tongue poking out and a piping bag in hand taken from the hallway, 9/18/22. My Birthday.

“You really took all these?” You ask, glancing at him. He seems a little bashful now, his cigarette smoked down to a stub for once. He shrugs, putting the cigarette out onto the ashtray and settling back against the couch. “I love it, Bo.” You say, your voice cracking slightly. “This was sweet.”

“Yeah, well… figured you deserved it.” He says with a roll of his eyes, eyeing you carefully. Sure, some of the photos were perverted, and it chronicled exactly what he put you through in the very beginning, but it showed that he had planned to keep you from the very beginning. You give him a quick kiss, deepening it by placing your hand on his chest. “Really loved it, huh?” Bo teases, kissing you back. He gives you a sideways smirk when you move to straddle him, his hands instantly resting on your hips.

You fiddle with the top button of his shirt, biting back your own pleased grin. “For your gift, I was thinking…” Bo cocks an eyebrow at you as you trail off before you lean in, whispering in his ear. “Maybe you can get that camcorder from Vinny and use it tonight? Whatever you want?”

“Whatever I want?” He asks, amused, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. His eyes are dark. “Guess I need to do sappy shit for ‘ya more often then if it gets ‘ya like this for me.” He grabs your hand, bringing your wrist to his lips quickly before he’s gently pushing you off of him. “Get on to the bedroom. Don’t think about takin’ those clothes off; I want the camera to see it all, darlin’.”

#f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys works #bo sinclair #house of wax #slashers #slasher x reader #bo sinclair x reader #valentines day fic #bo sinclair x y/n #slasher x y/n #house of wax 2005

350 notes · View notes