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kausstar · 3 months

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ᯓ ✶ ROUGH HANDS ◞ bo sinclair.

headcanon tags sfw + nsfw content. mdni. bimbo! female! reader — no description of reader besides you wearing small clothes and having a boyfriend. slightly pervy! bo. mentions of lester being attracted to you. cheating (can you cheat on someone who’s dead tho??). most headcanons are based off the movie. car sex. names used → sweet thang and poundcake cause i want him to pound m-

slightly pervy! bo who didn’t know of your group’s existence until lester tells him he should be expecting a group of three that afternoon.

slightly pervy! bo who hears lester’s comment on the “pretty thang” of the three and how bo would love the sight of her. his brothers grin and laugh selling it even more.

slightly pervy! bo who doesn’t understands his brothers obsession until he spots you, with your small shirt and short shorts that barely covered your ass. he grins to himself but his jaw quickly tightens when he spots some guy glued to your side— someone that lester didn’t mention.

slightly pervy! bo who tries to push down the annoyance as he walks to the front after hearing your calls to see if anyone was in the gas station, but he doesn’t expect to see just you standing there.

slightly pervy! bo who could barely pay attention to the words coming out of your mouth because of the big eyes and full smile you gave him as you asked for a belt for your car. slightly pervy! bo only coo’s at you about not being specific enough and asks you to come with him to the garage area.

slightly pervy! bo who asks you a couple questions to figure out what type of belt you need but none of them you could really answer. you slightly frown and muster up, “sorry, i don’t much about cars” making him wave you off with that pretty grin he’d been giving you the whole time. “it’s alright, sweetheart.”

slightly pervy! bo who asks if your boyfriend knows anything about them to which you answer with a nod before the gas station door opens and your boyfriend comes walking through, eyes quickly finding the two of you. slightly pervy! bo who watches as he comes to your side, giving bo a warning look as he wraps his arm around your waist.

slightly pervy! bo could only let out an amusing chuckle at him before asking him what he needed to which he replies with a better answer than you did.

slightly pervy! bo gives a look at the wall of fan belts—even goes as far to check the numbers, before looking over at you and your boyfriend. “i don’t see any but i have sum up at the house,” he said before nodding in the direction of the door.

slightly pervy! bo who steps aside for your boyfriend to check it himself. “you gotta be joking,” he frowns, looking at all of them. “it’s only a couple blocks, we could walk,” slightly pervy! bo adds sharing a glance between you and your boyfriend. your boyfriend gives you at look, as if wanting you to add your thoughts but you’re too busy looking at the tools on the wall to even care for the conversation.

slightly pervy! bo grins at your amusement before looking at your boyfriend who gives him another sharp look. “i guess we could walk,” he groans.

slightly pervy! bo who hadn’t realized it was getting dark until the three of you began your walk. you and your boyfriend walked slightly behind him, allowing him to lead the way.

slightly pervy! bo who can’t help but over hear your whispers. “sure you trust this guy, sweetheart?” your boyfriend whispers, to which you reply, “he was really sweet to me earlier”, probably with a smile.

slightly pervy! bo who hasn’t realized how bad he needs you until you speed up a bit to walk side by side with him half way into your walk and ask his name. your big eyes making his grin turn into a half smile. “curious, aren’t ya? how ‘bout yours first?” you are quick to nod and give him your name to which he gives his in exchange with grin.

slightly pervy! bo who’s slightly surprised when your eyes light up and you tell him how cute his name sounds.

slightly pervy! bo who hears you repeated it over and over again, and who can’t help but think about how it would sound when you’re begging him to cum.

slightly pervy! bo who hears your boyfriends say, “thinking about something?” but doesn’t pay it much attention until he looks over to find him speaking to him. slightly pervy! bo only gives your boyfriend a grin before shaking his head, looking down to his feet with a even wider grin then ahead, “only gotta couple more steps to go.”

once at the house, slightly pervy! bo offers the two of you a ride back down and you’re boyfriend’s hesitant but you’re quick to take him up on the offer and get in. to no surprise, your boyfriend doesn’t follow, and says he needs to use his bathroom.

inside the house, slightly pervy! bo points the man upstairs and explains where the bathroom is before heading to get the fan belt.

slightly pervy! bo who hears a loud scream from upstairs as he makes his way to the front door. hoping you hadn’t heard from outside.

slightly pervy! bo who closes the door behind himself as he leaves the home, grin spread at seeing you still sitting in the car.

slightly pervy! bo who slides himself into the car with you and who gives a simple excuse to why your boyfriend hasn’t come out of the house yet. even though he knows his brother has probably already waxed his face clean.

slightly pervy! bo who’s not surprised when he catches the way you rub your arms, trying to get warm. “ya cold?” he mumbled, making you look towards him and nod. you watch as he raises his arm and sits it upon the top of the seat. you share a glance between the open space and his face, clearly unsure.

slightly pervy! bo didn’t understand what had changed since he and your boyfriend had left. maybe you’d heard the scream, he slightly frowned at the idea. he wanted to keep you. “i don’t bite… too hard,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten your heart. he could tell you didn’t understand the jokes but you don’t allow it to shy you away from his warmth.

slightly pervy! bo who watches you move over and allow his arm to wrap about you. he feels you relax in his touch as your sweet smell takes over his senses. “you’re sweet,” you mindlessly say, moving closer to him. he lets out a chuckle, looking over at you in disbelief, “sweet, huh?” as if you knew he was looking at you, you look at him with a light smile. “yeah.”

slightly pervy! bo doesn’t try to hide the glare he gives your lips. “might really have to keep you,” he mumbles to mostly himself. the lingering tension that the both of you don’t shy away from leads bo to lean in.

slightly pervy! bo who finally meets your lips in a kiss. lips greedily kissing you deep and rough. you whine at how rough he’s kissing you but it isn’t a complaint. “bo,” you whine, hoping he would hear you through his kisses. “can i?” you ask, hand rubbing at his leg. “come on,” slightly pervy! bo responds, and you straddle his lap.

slightly pervy! bo who, once his cock is free, allows you to slide him inside of you. you rock your hips a bit, trying to adjust before going any faster but he doesn’t acknowledge that and grips your hips, moving you up and down on his cock. you yelp at the sudden slam of his cock.

slightly pervy! bo who allows you to get on top and ride him but doesn’t let you fully take control. his hands gripping at your hips as he controls how slow and fast you move. “fuck.” his eyes watched as you moan out, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“bo, think i am gonna cum,” you mull out, hands gripping his shoulders. “gotta wait,” is all he said, his pace not even remotely slowing as he begins bucking his hips up into you. you whine but obey him, continuing to take his cock.

slightly pervy! bo who loves the feeling of your cunt clinching onto him and your whine begging him to cum. “please, bo. really needa cum,” you moan. he’s close, really close. “go ahead, sweet thing,” he groans, hand going to your face to make sure you look at him as you cum. he fucks up into you, groaning as your pussy cum all over him. the clinching of your cunt milking him dry as he cums deep inside of you.

slightly pervy! bo who feeling you move up and down on him while your coming down from your high, enjoying the feeling of him inside of you.

 2024 kausstar.

𝓴aus. this has been my drafts since july 17, 2023 soo please ignore the smut.

#⋆ 𐙚 ₊ ˚ star #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x female reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair smut #house of wax #house of wax x reader #house of wax smut #bo sinclair headcanons #house of wax headcanons #slasher smut #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers

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callie-the-creator · 5 months

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the sinclair brothers’ reactions to you getting nipple piercings

mild nsfw. mdni. warnings: suggestive content, nipple piercings, etc.

author’s note: i tried to write the reader as gender-neutral as possible.

bo sinclair

• once you lifted your shirt up, bo’s jaw dropped to the floor as his eyes widened. he was still in his work getup — did you do this when he was gone? he had so many questions…but, it didn’t take bo long to shake his initial shock and replace it with his smirk

• he thinks your new piercings are hot as fuck and even made you all the more attractive. hell, he didn’t even think such a thing was possible!

• bo immediately tossed all his stuff to the closest chair and walked over to you where he moved his calloused hands up from your hips to right under your chest

• even though he likes to admit to it, bo can be quite the charmer at times. so, after he did this, bo started to shower you in compliments and as he did, lowered himself onto his knees as his hands rested on your as, like you were some deity

• all of this was a pleasant surprise, just what he needed actually, and bo cannot wait to see more of your piercings, especially in the bedroom

vincent sinclair

• he first thought you accidentally got hurt, so he came rushing to your side to help you out, only to have you you explain to him what they were

• he was, at first, confused. sure, vincent has seen a few piercings in his time because of the wax statues he makes…but…he’s never seen any that were on someone’s nipples

• when asked if he understood, vincent simply nodded his head as he moved closer to inspected your new piercings until his chest was almost touching yours

• he outstretched his hands, but didn’t touch you right away. instead, vincent glanced between your nipples, to your eyes, back down to your piercings, asking for permission. with a laugh, you gave him exactly that

• vincent made sure to be especially gentle with you as he caressed the sides of your chest, his rough and large hands slowly creeping closer to your nipples before stopping when he got close to the piercing. he didn’t want to touch them since there was a chance you were sore, so vincent merely moved his hands around the area, all the while he admired your new jewelry

• he likes them, it’s just going to take some time getting used to them is all…

lester sinclair

• “now, why’d you have to go ‘n do that?” was lester’s question when you told him you had gotten nipple piercings as he drove down the road to the house

• he didn’t want to believe you because of how unlike you it sounded. this must’ve been your way of trying to pull a prank on him…

• he kept denying that you got piercings there until you had enough of the bickering and lifted up your shirt, prompting lester to do a double-take at the sight of your new jewelry

• his breath was taken away and he was left speechless. he cleared his throat as he turned his attention back on the road whilst you pulled down your shirt to cover yourself up

• the drive to the house was mostly quiet

- that is, until lester parked his truck

• just as when you were going to hop out of the truck, lester stopped you by calling out your name, so you hesitated and looked back at him quizzically, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t somewhat upset with him

• “can i, uh…see ‘em again?”

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small-sinclair · 11 months

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Dada

Bo Sinclair x mother fem!reader

@zaras-really-dreamless... you wanted some "Take me Instead" content, yeah? Well, it's not the next two parts, but I hope it quiches a thirst :3 . A dabble based off my Bo x preg!reader au. I promise I'll make a master list for this au and give it a name I swear--

"Can you say 'Bo'?" You asked in your mother voice, a smile on your face. "Come on, Jazzy, say 'Bo'!"

"Shouldn't encorage to hav' 'er say my name, darlin'," Bo said glancing over his shoulder. "Have 'er say 'mama' or somethin' like that." He started working on the car you and Todd came. "When did ya last get 'is thin' an oil change?"

You shrugged as you bounced Jasmine on your hip, smiling at her happily. "Todd always took care of that." You heard an audible sigh and the hood slamming. "Is it that bad, Bo?"

"Well, ain't gonna lie, darlin', but your car," he thumbed behind him and threw his rag, "is done. Never drive ‘at heep o’ shit again."

You lifted a brow before looking at Jasmine. "Well... that sucks, huh, Jazzy? There goes out escape plan," you joked. "Trapped here forever."

Bo shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I'll have Lester bring the trailer down an' scrap it. Make more money than fixin' it." He placed a hand on his hip and fixed his hat. "Sorry, Mama, but it ain't drivin' no more." His eyes flickered down at Jasmine and watched her bright eyes looking back at him. "She seems lost."

"Jasmine’s just looking around, Bo," you answered, smiling. "She was always a wanderer just like my mother." You gave her an Eskimo kiss and smiled at her giggle. To Bo, it melted his heart. "She's just trying to figure the world out."

He takes a deep breath in and motioned you to follow him out. "Le'me close up an' we c'n get home-"

"Hello?" Your head snapped to the front door and saw young man walk in with two of his friends. "Anyone here?"

Bo gave you a look then led the way to the front of the shop. He puts on a fake smile and says, "Yeah, jus' caught me." He sounded cheerful when he said, "Was gonna close up soon."

"Would it trouble you to replace our spark plugs?" The man asked. "Me and my buddies have the slightest on what to do an--" his face was caught off when his green eyes landed on you. He straightens up and nods his head. "Ma'am," he said.

"Gentlemen," you replied. You stood between him and Bo before turning to look at Bo, saying, "I'll head up to the house and start dinner."

"I won't be long, sugar," Bo said, leaning down to kiss your head. "Promise."

They boys by the door parted and let you pass throw.

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

Jasmine played on the floor with little horse stuffies while you cooked dinner. Bo dropped hints of cooking pot roast and green beans with potatoes. Besides, he’s been working hard in the shop the past couple of nights along with making sure you and Jasmine are fitting in well.

Ever since you started living freely with the Sinclair Brothers, you were left with the house keeping and cooking job. Thought it's not the best picture of how you wanted to spend your life, but you had the freedom to move around within the house and around the dead town. Though you were watched with careful eyes, the fear you had with them would fade over time. Yes, the murdering and blood shed scares you, but tried their best to keep that away from you and from Jasmine.

Living with the brothers felt like you were living in a strange home. Lester brought you along to the store for baby shopping, and he always stopped after the trip to get your drink order at Starbucks. Vincent was a natural at rocking Jasmine to sleep when you were busy, and he enjoyed feeding her when you were tired or needed to rest. Bo found himself looking over you and her as time went on, and you would wake up to him some times at night with him looking into the crib, his hand holding Jasmine's fingers. When you saw the high chairs and baby photos, you learned why they made sure to keep Jasmine happy, to keep her away from them, to keep loving on her until their hearts give out.

If you were honest with yourself, you wanted to burn Bo’s high chair.

When you asked Lester why it’s there, he shakes his head. “Bo doesn’t know how to heal,” he answered as he nodded to his brother working in the shop. “This is the only way he can.”

Even if he doesn't show it, you knew Bo was in love with Jasmine. Besides seeing him with her at night, you would catch some glances of him holding her on his hip while he shows her the inside of a car, telling her all about the engine of a '68 Dodge. He would call her little star, sunshine, lady bug, sweetheart-- you kept seeing the shine in his eyes when he was around her. Of course, things weren't always calm and sunshine, but he never yelled at her like Todd did. Never once has he called her dumb or stupid.

Maybe you agreeing to stay in this town was good for the three of you.

Humming to the radio by the stove, you started cooking the potatoes when he came home. You glanced over your shoulder to greet him but your face fell once you saw him limping in with his hand holding his thigh.

“What happened?” You asked as you met him in the hall, taking a towel and the first-aid. After being here for two months, you learned that it's best to keep the first-aid within reach.

“Got stabbed,” Bo hissed, breathing through his teeth. “One of ‘em got brave and headed towards the house, too.” He then looks at Jasmine, who still played with her toys. “He was gunnin’ fer ‘at lil’ one.”

“How do you know?”

He bit the corner of his lips. “Just knew. Didn’t lik’ the way he was lookin’ at ya an’ ‘er.” His drawl was heavier than normal. “Should’ve said nothin’, girl, an’ snuck out in the tunnels.”

“I’m sorry.”

Bo grumbles to himself as he lets you tend to his leg. His eyes linger from you towards Jasmine. For a moment, the anger burning in his irises dimmed when Jasmine showed off her stuffed pink horse to him before playing again. Once her gaze was gone, his anger sparked again.

"Never do 'at again, woman," he warned, as he leaned back in the chair. "Men are dangerous 'round children."

"Are you dangerous?" He didn't mean to ask him, but as soon as those words left, he glared at you. "Sorry."

"I'll let it pass just once," he murmurs, "but don' say 'at shit again."

Bo leans back and closes his eyes, taping his fingers on the arm rest. As he felt the pain start to fade, his eyes linger over Jasmine as she plays with her horse. His relaxed his shoulders against the wood and watched her little horse wiggle in the air as of it was flying, grinning slightly at her movements.

"Dinner's almost ready," you say as you came back with water and two pain killers. "Just cooking the potatoes now."

"Yeah?" He asked, lifting a brow. He takes the pills and gulps down the water. "That's awful kind 'o ya."

As you two started talking about dinner, Jasmine sat and watched the both of you with curious eyes. She uses the couch to help her stand, dropping her horse, and pulled herself up. Once she was standing up, she takes shaky steps forward, her mind competly forgettign the horse under her feet. Tripping, she falls down, looks around, and opens her mouth, crying loudly.

Bo jolted as he heard her started to cry. He watched you scoop up your child and kisses her head as you tried to calm her. Her little hands reached out towards Bo, bright eyes burning through tears as she cried out, "Dada!"

It's like time froze and the world stopped spinning. Bo's eyes grew wide as he looked at you and back at Jasmine. "What... what did she just--"

"Dada!” Her little hands reached for him, tearfully crying out, “Bo!”

Just like that, Bo's heart shattered in two million pieces. Her little hands reached for him still as she wiggling in your grasp. With his hands still bloodied, Bo opened his arms and nodded at you, reassuring that it's okay for you to leave him, but you can't... not while he's covered in someone else's blood.

Though the pain was still there, Bo moved quickly from the den to the kitchen. He scrubbed and washed up as best as he could, took off his work uniform shirt and tossed it aside, and dried off as well as he could. He heard the basement door opening and Vincent entering from downstairs.

Before Bo could fill him in, Jasmine cried out, "Bo! Dada!"

Vincent felt his stomach drop as he looked at you and Jasmine. His lone eye looks back at Bo and pointed, eye wide in shock, signing, 'Did she just say your name? Or am I really dehydrated?'

"Ya heard right," Bo breathed. He limps away from Vincent and headed back into the living room. He held out his hands, motioning that he was reader, and you gave her to Bo.

This was his first time holding her since the day he got you away from Todd. Truly holding her close, not like when he has her on his hip while working on a car.

As soon as you place her in his arms, something clicked in his brain. The way she looked at her with tearful eyes and her hands reached for him to hug, Bo’s world rocked. He heldJasmine so close and protectively as he rocked back and forth, hushing her gently. Feeling her again in his arms felt almost right, but he’s not her dad. He’ll be a good enough father, he knows, but…

“You’re okay, star shine,” he whispered as he felt her calming. “Ya just bummed yer knee. Nothin’ to cry about.” He walked away from you as he paced in the other room with the pool table. He nodded at you to take care of the food while he takes care of Jasmine. “Yer okay. You’ll be alright.”

“Dada,” she whines as her little hands gripped his shirt. “Bo.”

How fast can a heart shatter and build up again? Is there a study out there that could answer Bo’s question?

He rested her head against his heart as he took shaky breaths. He’s not ready. He’ll never be ready. “Shh, star shine,” he whispers. “Rest ‘at lil’ head. I’m here. Bo’ll always be here.”

From the kitchen, Vincent started the potatoes and had you watch from the doorway. Were you in love with him, or did you just see him as a father figure? As much as you tried an answer, you couldn’t make since of it yet. Todd was her dad, but any boy can be a dad. Bo was a man; he was a better father than Todd. You just can’t tell him yet.

So, you watched as Bo swayed back and forth with Jasmine in his arms, murmuring a song only for her to hear. Slowly, he leaned against the pool table. His eyes was filled with so much warmth and carefulness when he looked down at Jasmine. You had to admit he knew what he was doing, and Jasmine fell asleep right away in his arms. He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. The walls that he built and the lies he believed fell so fast to let her in.

Dada. Bo.

He squeezed his eyes shut as a sigh escaped. He’ll kill a thousand men just to keep Jasmine safe, to keep you happy and well, to keep what lever type of… family? Relationship? What is the best word to say? But he looked down at Jasmine as if she was his own, and a grin formed. Bo will fight off every and any monster that dare comes near his home.

***********

Later that night, you woke to the sound of your bedroom door opening and feet shuffling across the floor. Turning, you found Bo in sleeping pants, shirtless, and holding Jasmine in his arms. Her head rested against his shoulder as he swayed slightly back and forth with his eyes closed. You heard him hum a lullaby low and soft just for her. When his eyes parted, he made eyes contact with you, smiled, and laid her back down ever so slowly and gently.

Bo turned his heels and tucked you back in. “Rest, Mama,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on your temple. “It’ll be a long day tomorrow.” Then Bo turned and left the room, closing the door silently.

What a beautiful mess that’s unraveling right in front of you.

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imjustasillygirlwholikesgirls · 10 months

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2man but my friend in the submarine

#edits #my edit #bo sinclair edit #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #house of wax #bo sinclair x female reader #vincent sinclair headcanons #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #slasher x s/o #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher edit

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aalyssah · 1 year

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Change

Pairing: Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, and Fluff!

Word Count: 1,461

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

Bold Italics are flashbacks from argument.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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loveandmurders · 2 years

Note

I read I wish I was better for you and it made me crave angst. Could I request a concept of Bo and his s/o getting into a huge fight, then asking the brothers why their not just another victim? Why haven’t they just killed them off already? Fem reader is preferred, but gn is absolutely fine. Keep on being lovely. <3

Hello love, thank you so much for this request. I absolutely adore angst & hurt/comfort fics, so it had been very fun to write for this. I really hope you’ll enjoy this. <3

Female reader without physical description.

WHY AM I NOT DEAD ALREADY?

Warnings: Bo being Bo (aka an asshole but he loves you), mentions of murders, angst/comfort.

Even if life wasn’t all soft and peaceful in Ambrose, you weren’t often getting into such a huge fight with Bo.

Of course, you often were arguing with the man because of his anger issues and the risk he was taking in the hunting of victims and because he was paranoid you would try to run away from him one day, even if you knew you wouldn’t because you truly had fallen in love with him.

And because you loved him, and his brothers, you were always trying your best to stay calm and to talk, instead of yelling.

You were the appeasing presence in the house, even though you always stood your ground when you thought you were right, which Bo found both hot and very annoying.

This time, however, he pushed all your buttons in the worst way possible, even reminding you that if you were alive, it was all thanks to him, and that you should be obedient to him, especially because he could so easily turn you into a wax statue if he wanted to. After all, he only asked you to be pretty, not to open your mouth.

It was the first time he talked to you and threatened you that way.

And you would have lied if you had said you weren’t afraid.

It was true, why didn’t he kill you?

He could have so easily put you on his chair, down his garage, and played with you to his heart's content, and then killed you and asked Vincent to turn you into a wax sculpture for the pleasure of his eyes, this time.

He didn’t need you alive.

No one here needed you alive.

Actually, you were probably a problem because they all had to keep an eye on you in case you wanted to run away.

“Finally found what to say to make ya shut up, hmm” Bo commented before leaving you on your own in the living room.

It was true that it was the first time you fell silent in front of him.

You sat on the couch, and took your head into your hands.

What has become of your life?

Did the man really care about you?

No, he was just bored and one day he would kill you, and you could only pray for it to be fast, but knowing Bo…

To be fair, Bo was already regretting his words but he was too proud to get back to you and hug you to reassure you. He was silently cursing himself, thinking he was an asshole (which he was, indeed).

He had no intention of killing you.

At all.

And his brothers either, because Bo was a lot more manageable now you were around.

Vincent got from the basement, a bit thirsty because of the heat downstairs. He was about to head to the kitchen when he saw you.

He tilted his head to the side, not too sure what to do.

He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but at the same time he didn’t like to see you like that, because you were now part of the family.

He finally walked to you and you looked up when you felt his presence.

He didn’t even have the time to sign and ask you what was wrong, that you asked him: “Why am I still alive? Why haven’t you turned me into a wax statue like the rest of the group I came here with?”

You waited for an answer and Vincent could only stare. He could tell you were pretty serious about your interrogations and it worried him.

What did Bo say? He signed because he knew it could only come from Bo and he had to stop himself from rolling his eye at how stupid his twin could be.

“He said he could so easily kill me, that I owe him my life” you replied “I mean you all could kill me actually. I really don’t understand why I’m still there” you continued.

Vincent groaned and took a chair to sit in front of you.

He always had to put the pieces back together after his brother had broken something. And he really had hoped it would never happen with you. And now he could only hope, it would be the last time.

When he saw you among the tourist bus that came by, he instantly noticed you and he sent me a message to tell me to not touch you Vincent told you, and you could only arch an eyebrow at that.

You had never heard about this before, and it was sometimes hard to tell when Vincent was saying the truth or not, in order to make you do what he wanted you to.

“And?” you asked for him to continue “He could have simply wanted to kill me himself”.

I don’t know all the details of the story, because Bo doesn’t share a lot. What I know is that he wanted to play with you and kill you himself, indeed. But you are alive because Bo isn’t an idiot, sometimes, and he saw you were what he needed in his life.

“I don’t understand, Vince” you shook your head.

You had no idea how you could be what Bo needed in his life; it felt like Bo didn’t need anything but his family and you weren’t really family.

When you were in the House of Wax, the two of you, and that he was flirting with you, you said something that made him change his mind. I didn’t hear all about it, but you talked about how you hated your relationship with your parents and how you wished to have your own family, with a husband and maybe one day, kids, even though you weren’t totally sure about that. I got distracted with one of the tourists after, but each time he was asking you a question, I could tell by his eyes that you were saying exactly what he wished you would say.

You stared at Vincent, completely taken aback.

That day, the day he didn’t kill you, you had indeed talked about a lot of things with him. You had no idea why, but the conversation was quite easy with him and he had been so eager to ask you all kinds of questions.

You had indeed told him you wished to have a real family, and a husband and maybe kids.

You also said that you wouldn’t mind living in a small town and to be a housewife, as long as you had stuff to do in the house but also in town. You needed responsabilities and freedom, as well as a home.

And that you needed your husband to be protective of you, and sometimes a little bit possessive.

You also remembered how right after, Bo seemed to soften for a few instants before he started to think very fast. He gave you his best smile and guided you to his house, and you had followed because something made you trust the man. He had sat you in the living room and had asked you to not move.

And you had obeyed, and when he came back all bloody, you took care of him, without understanding he had killed the tourists you were with (they weren’t your friends, you were travelling on your own with a tourism agency and you were among others in a bus).

But when you had understood what Bo did, you hadn’t tried to run away because there was something about this man you needed.

“Are you saying that I’m not dead because…”

You're his dream girl, yeah.

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think.

“So, he won’t kill me?” you asked, still a little bit unsure of it but Vincent was quick to shake his head

You're the first girl he kept around, and he is just trying to pretend he doesn’t need you that much. But you can ask Lester if you don’t believe me; Bo is wrapped around your little finger.

You smiled at that, because you enjoyed the idea of someone as dangerous as Bo being in love with you that much.

You thanked Vincent and felt better about all of this.

You still wanted to talk to Lester, but also because you had an idea.

You called the man you considered like your little brother and you told him about your argument with Bo.

No need to say, he wasn’t impressed at all.

“Ah yeah, he’s always tryin’ to fuck what makes him happy. But don’t get fooled, he’s always askin’ us to keep an eye on ya in case someone tries to hurt ya, or in case ya’d like to leave his sorry ass. He’d lose it, ya know.”

You didn’t need to know more, knowing Lester wouldn’t lie to you.

You asked him to go to the antiquity store in which you had seen two wedding bands a few days ago, as you had wandered around with Lester, and to buy them.

Lester didn’t comment and obeyed you, like the big sister you were for him.

Once you got the two rings, you went to see Bo in his garage.

The music was blasting out and he didn’t seem in the best of mood, and it probably was because of your argument.

He was feeling bad about it a lot more than he would admit it.

The idea of losing you was eating him up, and he hoped he hadn’t scared you off.

He looked up from his truck when he saw you and he arched an eyebrow, silently asking you what you wanted from him now.

You moved closer to him, a little more confident around him now you knew what he truly felt about you.

“You wouldn’t kill your wife, right?” you asked him with a little smile and he frowned without understanding what you meant.

You took his left hand and placed the ring on his finger.

“Because I wouldn’t leave my husband” you smiled even more.

You had no idea what was going on inside his head, but when you showed him the second ring, he didn’t hesitate to put it on your finger.

“That’s true, girl, my wife’s off limits” he finally said.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought” you hummed and you tiptoed to kiss his lips.

Before you knew it, he sat you on his truck, and his hands were roaming your body with renewed desire and possessiveness.

Gosh, he fucking loved you.

Taglist:

@feathery-ass

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adalwolfgang · 10 months

Text

Just a little snippet of something I’m working on….

“Do it,” he taunted, his smile turning smug.

Typical. Men always thought they knew everything.

“Alright,” she said, and punched him square in the face.

#reader insert #x reader #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #slashers x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair house of wax #house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x female reader #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair fluff #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair fanfiction #brian van holt

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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.

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slasherfckr · 1 year

Text

😭😭😭 I have no idea what the hell happened to the ask in my inbox. I might have deleted it or something. I'm so sorry about that 😔 Still trying to figure out how Tumblr works tbh. I hope you like this fic though :)

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Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader - Better than Words

"Hey Bo?" You smiled. The man fiddling around with spare car in the garage didn't bother turning towards you.

"Hm?"

"Did you think we could get Jonesy a friend?"

The mechanic stopped what he was doing and turned towards you.

"What?"

"Get Jonesy a friend. Do you think he ever gets lonely being the only dog in Ambrose? I know he usually spends his time with Vincent or Lester but I know I would be lonely if I were the only person here."

Bo shook his head.

"I don't fucking know (Y/N). Why don't you make yourself useful and hand me the wrench?" He went back to focusing on the car, holding his hand out for the tool he asked for. Without missing a beat, you went over and retrieved the wrench. It was dead silent minus the sounds of Bo working on the car for a few until you couldn't stand it anymore.

"Did you know a baby puffin is called a puffling? And it's parent can hold, like, 10 fish in its mouth at once so it can feed it's baby. But the largest amount a puffin was recorded to have carried was 62 fish at once."

"The fuck you talking about woman?"

You let out a small giggle.

"Just stating some animal facts. It's just soooo quiet. Can't stand it." You complained.

"Then why don't you go check up on Vincent or something? I think I'm done here with the car and-"

Just then the phone rang. Bo grabbed a rag from the table next to him and wiped his hands before going to answer the phone in the other room. There was really only one person it could be. Wasn't long at all before Bo was back with you and the car.

"Was Lester. Said he got some people coming out this way. Better stay here and help me instead. Vinny can wait."

You and Bo went to the main room of the work shop, waiting for the guests to arrive. As Bo sat behind the counter, reading a magazine, you couldn't help but watch as his blue eyes scanned the pages. Sweat from working on the car still beading down his face, making a few brown curls from his hair stick to his temple. You wanted him so bad. You would imagine the two of you together, bodies intertwined in his bed. Or something more tame, such as you and him going out for drinks. The only thing stopping you from confessing to him was the tiny sliver of self-doubt in the back of your mind on if he would actually feel the same about you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement. You turned and there was a man and woman at the door. The man appeared to be in his 50's while the girl appeared to be around your age. Father and daughter perhaps? Either way, you smiled and greeted them as you let them in.

"Hey sorry to bother you guys. Our car broke down and we were looking to buy the parts needed to fix it up so we can get back on the road again?"

"Yeah yeah it's no problem at all. That's what we're here for, ain't it? Here, (Y/N), why don't you go show the man where he can find the parts for his car?"

You smiled at Bo as you grabbed the man's arm and lead him to the back. Except you went further than the back. You took him and led him downstairs of the garage.

"Sorry we had to go down here. Parts are kept downstairs and out of the shop itself so thieves aren't as keen to rob the place, ya know?" You kept the smile on your face as you turned on the light in the room.

"Think I should go back upstairs. Just head on up once you find the parts so we can get you guys back on the road." You waved at the man and left, locking the door behind you so he couldn't escape what was currently on its way to him.

When you got back upstairs, though, your heart sank. You were met with Bo flirting with the daughter. Her back was up against a wall as Bo hovered over her.

"You know, doll? This heat wave we hot here ain't got noth'n on you." The girl laughed and put her hand on Bo's shoulder.

"You think so? Maybe we could go somewhere more.... private so I could show you how hot I can really get? Hm?"

Despite feeling your world crumbling, you managed to hold everything together and hide it all underneath a big smile. You then coughed to get their attention. The girl and Bo split, with the girl looking down at the floor and Bo looking elsewhere but her.

"So did he find everything he needed, (Y/N)?"

"Yep." You said cheerily. "He's just waiting on you now."

Bo nodded and took the girl downstairs with him to finish off the job.

You had left while Bo worked with Vincent to take care of the mess. While they were doing their chores, Lester had come home. He surprised you with fresh ingredients from the next town over. All the stuff to make venison stew. You were delighted as you could now make a stew you had promised the boys you'd make one day. You and Lester quickly got to work on making dinner, joking and messing around while doing so but you couldn't get fully into it. You couldn't help but think back to Bo and that girl. What if he didn't kill her? What if he fucked her and ended up bringing her back here to the house? What would happen to you then? Would Bo even need your help anymore? Your heart sank further than it already was thinking at the possibilities. Lester knew something was up but before he could ask, Bo walked in.

Bo's suit was covered in blood and by the looks of it, it was his own. He immediately took a seat in the living room.

"(Y/N) could you get the goddamn medkit?"

You did as you were told. Bo ended up having a nasty gash on his left arm. Thankfully it wasn't bad enough to need stitches but you were still going to have to apply some disinfectant and bandages, which was going to be fun. Bo never handled getting disinfectant put on well. It was like taking a toddler to the doctor for a shot. You quickly sat next to Bo and pulled some bandages and the disinfectant out of the medkit.

"Gotta hold still now, okay? Don't want a repeat of last time you got hurt. Almost took my hand off" You joked.

"Damn it, (Y/N). How many times do I gotta say I'm sorr-FUCK!" Bo hissed and immediately pulled his arm away from you. "Goddamn that hurt!"

"I haven't even applied the disinfectant yet, Bo." You raised an eyebrow at him.

You pulled his arm back towards you and gently dabbed a cotton ball soaked with the disinfectant on his wound. Bo hissed again but didn't have a huge outburst like the first time.

"See? Wasn't so bad, right?" You smiled up at him from the floor.

"Yeah, whatever..." He grumbled.

"So how did this even happen, Bo?"

"Was noth'n (Y/N)."

"Doesn't seem like nothing considering....this." You gestured to his arm. Bo gave you a look which made you quickly drop the subject. "Here come on and get up. Lester and I just finished dinner. I'll grab you a bowl while Lester brings one down to Vincent."

You fixed up two bowls, one for you and the other for Bo. After a bite, Bo's face lit up.

"Holy sweet Jesus, (Y/N). You weren't kidding when you said you could make some good damm stew."

Hearing him compliment your cooking lifted your spirits up, which brought a huge smile to your face.

"Thank you, Bo."

The rest of the meal was ate in silence. Normally you'd be chatting up a storm with Bo but you haven't had a nice, home cooked meal made with fresh ingredients in so long. You just wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible.

When you both were done, you grabbed his bowl and yours and brought it over to the sink to start dishes.

"It was her."

"What?"

"That woman. In the shop. She did this." Bo gestured to his bandaged arm.

"Oh. Her loss I guess. She had an incredibly handsome guy flirting with her and she decided to attack him. Not what I would have done."

You froze when you felt hot breath come down on the back of your neck.

"Did I hear that right, (Y/N)? 'An incredibly handsome guy?' 'Not what I would have done?' So what would you have done then?" Bo leaned down so his mouth was right at your ear. You were completely frozen in place; couldn't move at all. You felt like a trapped sheep, cornered by the big bad wolf. Your face quickly grew a deep shade of red.

"I-I, uh...I would have..." Your words got caught in your throat. A deep chuckle came from behind you.

"Turn around and face me." You did as you were told. You weren't that much smaller in height than Bo but goddamn did you feel incredibly tiny in that moment. Before you could do or say anything else, you felt Bo's rough lips on yours. You kissed back and soon felt his arms around your waist before he pulled away from the kiss.

"(Y/N) you're not very subtle. I hope you know that. You didn't think I wouldn't notice you staring at me back at the shop? Could see you turning 30 different shades of red then." Bo laughed.

"But that girl..."

"Yeah so? You'd think I'd actually go after someone like that?" He rolled his eyes. "Wasn't even close to my type."

He went down by your ear again and nipped it, earning a small moan from you.

"She was way too quiet. You on the other hand..." Bo took your hand and led you out of the kitchen and up to his room.

"I want you to show me what you'd do, (Y/N). Really show me."

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Ahhhh this was my first fic. I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it! Especially Sketchy-rosewitch!

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x female reader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slashers #slasher fucker #my first fic

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venus-haze · 1 year

Text

Who's Sorry Now (Bo Sinclair x Reader)

Summary: After nearly a year of being under Bo’s thumb in Ambrose, he’s decided it’s time you get involved in the family business. You never expected to make it this far, and when you finally come face to face with (victims) tourists in town as part of the act, you think it more of a curse than a blessing. Look at the warnings before deciding if you want to read this.

Note: This is mostly a (extremely gross) standalone fic, with some references to events in Howl and Adam Raised a Cain, but it can be read on its own. I took some creative liberties with Trudy's casket again. Inspired by the Connie Francis song. Reader is a woman, but no other descriptors are used. Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: Graphic depictions of murder and violence. Descriptions of violence involving weapons. Disturbing and sadistic behavior. Misogyny. Physical abuse, emotional and psychological manipulation, major Stockholm syndrome. Sexually explicit content which involves coercion/dubious consent, slapping, degradation, cigarette burns, licking water and cum off of a dirty floor (sorry). Do not interact if you are under 18.

Summer raged angry in Ambrose, its unforgiving heat leaving you drenched by the late nightfall, when you’d sit in the passenger seat of Bo’s truck, head hanging out the window as you took in the rush of cool night air. Sometimes he’d take a long way back up to the house, just to indulge this one quirk of yours, despite the fully air-conditioned home that sat atop a hill. Even Vincent struggled in the heat, emerging from his studio dripping in sweat when he actually went down there. Instead, he opted on moving from air-conditioned house to air-conditioned house, checking on each of the wax sculptures that resided in Ambrose.

It was cooler out when you and your friends had arrived in town, hopeful and unsuspecting, making it not quite a year since Bo tangled you into this tapestry of wax, murder, and violence that had been woven since before you were born. Your few freedoms were hard fought, your body and mind littered with scars of what you’d been through at his hands.

Still, you hadn’t quite proven yourself to Bo yet. He’d leave you to work on a grueling yet mundane task he’d given you, but you wouldn’t run even if you had the chance. You felt far too guilty and complacent to claim your victimhood. If you were ever found, no one would believe you. You’d quickly be an accomplice, just as crazy as the rest of them. At least, that’s how you’d view yourself from the outside looking in, unaware of the desperate measures you took to survive, even when you didn’t necessarily want to.

There hadn’t been any visitors to Ambrose for a long while, and with the oppressive humidity that veiled the Louisiana swamplands, the brothers seemed glad for the extended break. You were too, since Bo had told you that if you were going to be “working” in town, you’d have to pull your own weight. Sooner or later, you’d kill someone, either out of necessity or him forcing your hand. You silently hoped that the world would continue to forget about Ambrose, that no one would be able to pass through again, and you and the Sinclair brothers would be the final addition to the dead town’s rot. There was no point in hoping.

The town’s dry spell of unsuspecting motorists broke in the middle of June, a sweltering day you spent mostly inside the gas station, standing in front of the air conditioning vent with a sweating bottle of soda. An unfamiliar car chugged along the street, before pulling into the gas station. You didn’t know much about cars, but the loud bang the machine made when it finally stopped didn’t sound good.

You set your soda down, taking a deep breath before walking outside to join the couple who had gotten out of the car and were arguing. They were around your age, and you wondered if they’d recognize your face at all, recalling it from missing persons ads. When the couple looked at you, however, recognition didn’t spark in either of their faces.

“How can I help y’all?” you asked.

“My car’s fucked, and some weird guy on the highway said this was the only body shop around,” the guy said.

“I’m going inside. It’s way too hot out here,” the girl said, heading inside the shop.

“Sure, let me get Bo. He’s on lunch, but he’d be glad to help,” you said, almost shocked at how easily the lie came out of your mouth.

The guy nodded. “Yeah, whatever.”

Bo spent most of the late morning in the movie theater, claiming something needed to be fixed there. It wasn’t a far walk, but between the heat and their attitudes, you figured the couple weren’t the type who liked being kept waiting. Still, you didn’t run, it was too hot out for that kind of effort on your part.

As soon as you stepped into the derelict movie theater, you were met with a stifling humidity and the scent of rot. You hated that you knew what that smelled like now.

The air conditioning, that’s what Bo had been busy fixing. In all honesty, it amazed you that the wax museum was even standing with how hot it got in Ambrose. Every few days, Vincent would have to make the rounds and check on the wax sculptures, touching up any heat-related imperfections, though you knew most of the buildings had air conditioning blasting to preserve his work. The movie theater had without a doubt the most sculptures besides the museum, so keeping it cool was imperative.

You called out for Bo, wandering around the movie theater until you heard him respond from a utility closet. Finding him in this spot, you couldn’t help but admire the way his white t-shirt clung to his sweat-covered body. Thankfully, he didn’t notice your ogling.

“What? You couldn’t even bring me a fuckin’ drink? Jesus,” Bo said.

“There’s two—um—we have customers.”

He grinned, grabbing the mechanic’s shirt that was bunched up on the floor. “‘Bout damn time.”

After using the shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, he pulled it on, buttoning it up as the two of you left the movie theater and walked back to the gas station. Although no one could possibly eavesdrop, you spoke in a hushed tone as you relayed the basic information that you had on the couple. Lester directed them to Ambrose, their car was busted, and they were incredibly cranky.

You were worried that it wasn’t enough information for him, but he seemed more than pleased with what you already knew. It made sense, he was used to handling this side of things on his own. Again, you cemented your accomplice status.

The couple rushed outside as soon as they saw you and Bo a few yards away, making your way up the street. They were in one hell of a hurry for nothing.

“Sorry ‘bout the wait,” Bo said. “This your car?”

The guy nearly rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”

Bo chuckled, though you knew him well enough that it betrayed his disdain for the guy already. “Right. How ‘bout you gimme the keys, and I’ll bring it into the garage and take a look at it.”

“Good luck,” the guy said, handing Bo his keys. “I barely got it into town in the first place.”

“Might as well give it a try. Y/N, you mind helpin’ me for a minute?” Bo asked.

“Not at all. You two make yourselves comfortable inside,” you said.

They hardly waited for you to finish talking before making a beeline to return to the air conditioned store. Bo shot a glare at their backs, shaking his head as he got into the guy’s car. As he revved the engine, it made a noise that had Bo smirking a bit.

“Damn, this car’s shot to hell, and I didn’t even do it this time.”

It took him a minute or two to get it a few feet into the garage, and you didn’t have to be an expert to know that getting that car safe enough to drive would probably take a few days. It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t be driving it again anyway.

Bo got out of the car, throwing the keys on a nearby tool cart. “You’re gettin’ one of those assholes. I don’t care which one, but today’s the day, darlin’.”

“I—the girl, I guess.”

He grabbed your shoulders, looking at you with an intensity that made you nearly wither to dust in his hold. “No guessin’. You killin’ her or not?”

You nodded. “I will. I’ll kill her.”

“Good. There’s a gun under the counter, should be easy enough to take ‘er out.”

“Okay, okay,” you said.

“Get on back there, then,” he said, giving you a quick kiss.

When you walked back into the shop, the girl had already helped herself to one of the sodas, another unopened one sitting on the counter. They were mumbling between themselves, glancing at the garage until they noticed you were back.

“Can you hurry up? I’m gonna need one of those cans of oil. The one behind the register,” the guy asked as you went behind the counter.

“What do you expect, babe?” the girl muttered. “They probably can’t even read.”

He snickered in response. She hadn’t meant to say it loud enough for you to hear, but you did, loud and clear. Derogatory, meant to bolster their fractured superiority at their helplessness, having to turn to the likes of swampland hicks for help. You supposed that included yourself now, living in unprecedented isolation with the Sinclairs.

That was a decision you’d made yourself a few weeks—or was it months—earlier in the kitchen of the Sinclair house. You caused a scene, but you got your point across. You chose this life instead of death. You chose Bo. It was one thing when your own life was in your own hands, but the lives of others was a much heavier burden. You loved Bo. You knew you did. Sometimes love meant compromising, though it surely was never supposed to go so far. Then again, no one had ever been in a relationship quite like yours before, you were sure of that much.

You gasped as your hand brushed the gun Bo kept beneath the counter. The guy looked at you, rolling his eyes before turning around, leaning against the counter and staring at the sleepy main street out the shop windows. It’d be so easy, just pick up the gun and put a bullet right through the back of his head, then get his girlfriend while she was still in shock.

Shaking your head, you grabbed the plastic container next to you, setting it on the counter. They were rude and awful, but that didn’t mean they deserved to die. You were sure there were plenty of times you’d been rude before, short with someone on the receiving end of your bad day. It didn’t mean you deserved what had happened to you.

Their deaths were inevitable, though. That was certain in Ambrose, but you’d stand your ground. If they were going to die, you wouldn’t be the one to do it. Maybe that made you just as bad, but your hands would be clean. You rung up the oil and two sodas on the beat-up cash register, and the guy turned around to grab the container and leave a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, mumbling for you to keep the change.

The couple headed outside to see how progress was going on their car. Bo really was one hell of a mechanic, and as much as he knew how to fix a car, he also knew just how to fuck around with one to make it undrivable. In this case, he wouldn’t have to do too much extra work.

You sat down on a crate behind the counter, displeased to find that your soda was room temperature and flat. Sighing, you closed your eyes for a few moments, ignoring the heat-induced headache that you could feel creeping up on you.

The shop door slamming open, bell clinging rapidly, pulled you from your rest. Was it only a few minutes, or had you fallen asleep? The girl stood in the doorway, panicked and wild-eyed.

“Hey! Holy shit!”

You stood up, furrowing your eyebrows at the way she rushed toward the counter.

“You have to call the police! That guy out there–your coworker went insane!” the girl shouted. “Fucking do something!”

She pushed you out of the way, grabbing for the phone on the wall behind you, only to hear a dead dial tone on the other end of the line. “What the fuck? What the–”

The bell for the front door of the shop chimed again, and the two of you saw Bo taking up most of the space in the doorframe, sweat dripping down his face, blood splattered across his hands. The screwdriver he was holding was covered in blood too. His eyes were set on the girl as he took a step into the shop.

“We have to go!” the girl screamed, grabbing you by the sleeve and pulling you after her.

She ran into the garage, an anguished scream tearing from her throat at the sight of her dead boyfriend. When it became clear you weren’t in as much of a rush as her, she started running, leaving you behind. You couldn’t blame her, that’s what you would’ve done too.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Bo growled, seeing the girl run off while you stood around, shocked and useless.

He shot a glare your way as he raced after her. Maybe she’d get the upper hand somehow and do what you and everyone else who came before weren’t able to. The thought made you tense up. Would she know you were part of this? Would she come after you next? You weren’t sure what you wanted to happen, but as you caught a glimpse of the fresh body of the girl’s dearly deceased boytoy, you decided to head back into the shop for the time being.

You spent the next half hour cleaning the blood off the gas station shop floor, the bleach you poured burning your throat as you mopped up what had come from Bo when he stormed through. Your efforts were premature, because almost as soon as the old floor looked as spotless as you could make it, the shop bell rang again.

Bo had caught up with the girl, though from the scratches on his face, it wasn’t without a fight. More than you could say. She, however, was worse for wear, her nose bleeding, probably broken, and she had a pronounced limp as she stumbled into the shop, black tears streaking down her face. Grit and dirt were inseparably mixed with the blood that ran from her knee down to her ankle, skin red and raw.

Bo pushed her onto the ground, and she screamed as her open wound made contact with the freshly bleached floor. Bile rose in your throat as you looked at her, trying to ignore Bo reaching for the screwdriver he’d kept in his pocket. You couldn’t do it. She could’ve been you or any of your friends. Nevertheless, he shoved the tool in your hand.

He held the girl by the hair, close enough so her throat was pressed against the end of the screwdriver. “Do it.”

“Please don’t. No, no, no, no, I don’t wanna die,” she sobbed. “Fuck, shit, I don’t wanna die.”

You didn’t even know her name and you were supposed to kill her. Would that have made it easier? Or harder? Your hesitation didn’t go over well with Bo, as he let out a frustrated growl and grabbed your hand, driving the screwdriver through the girl’s neck. His hand wrapped around yours in a death grip, making you unable to let go of the screwdriver or pull it from her flesh until he thought it was enough.

To add insult to injury, he twisted the screwdriver, and you gagged at the girl’s gurgled agony as blood poured from her mouth. Her hands weakly reached for the screwdriver in vain, because Bo twisted it again, grinning at the pained expression on her face. Panic finally caught up with you as you considered if this was how your friends died–messy, cruel, and torturous at his hands.

When he pulled the screwdriver from her throat, releasing your hand with it, you almost felt relieved that it was over. By the furious expression on his face, however, you were still in for it. He grabbed you by the scruff of your neck, backing you into the wall and holding the bloody screwdriver against your throat.

“I oughta kill you too,” he hissed. “When I tell you to do somethin’, you fuckin’ do it.”

“Bo, I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I couldn’t–”

Before you could try to explain yourself, he roughly grabbed your arm, his short, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he walked toward the basement door. He dropped the screwdriver on the floor as he used both hands to get a better hold of you. Your shoes squeaked against the linoleum shop floor as you tried to dig your heels in and prevent him from moving you any closer.

“No!” you screeched, feeling the strain in your throat as you struggled against him. “Don’t bring me back there! I don’t wanna go back there!”

“‘S where you belong. Vinny was right, gettin’ you into this was a mistake.”

“I swear to god I’ll do it next time! Please don’t–”

You wailed as he landed a harsh slap across your face, his ring breaking the tender skin of your cheek. In this moment of weakness, he was able to overtake you, pulling you back into the hell you’d worked so hard to escape from less than a year before.

The animalistic holler you let out in protest was met only by echoes from the concrete. Your fallen comrades plastered on the walls shared your distress as your eyes darted across each of them. You knew as soon as you ended up in such a place that you’d end up one of them. You had your chance, and you blew it. Soon, you too would be memorialized as yet another brutalized girl whose Polaroid graced the walls of the goddamn dungeon.

Bo sneered as he strapped your limbs to the surgical bed that you still had nightmares about. You probably would have thought it was a dream if your face wasn’t stinging from the impact just moments earlier. Nothing that was coming from your mouth was coherent. Nothing you could say would make him have pity or mercy on you. He wasn’t capable of that.

Deja vu swirled through your mind as he cut off your clothes, and you braced yourself for the feeling of his knife on your skin, until it didn’t come.

He clicked his tongue as he looked at you, sobbing and bleeding. “There ain’t gonna be a next time.”

He smacked you again for good measure, and then left to take care of the bodies in the shop. You didn’t see him again for three days. Nothing had changed since you were last down there, he hadn’t even bothered to clean the place out, as if he were keeping it for insurance if things didn’t work out with you.

There was no point in screaming for help, no one who heard you would help anyway. This was between you and Bo. You wondered if he was leaving you there to die, knowing dehydration would catch up with you, and he’d find your disgusting, rotting corpse by the Fourth of July.

Your mouth was dry, and your whole head was pounding from the lack of water and the heat that somehow made its way all the way down to the basement. You couldn’t even cry, you were so dehydrated–there were no tears, just your pathetic wailing and whimpering until you couldn’t even manage that.

When he finally came down to check on you, cigarette hanging from his lips and a cold bottle of water in his hand, you could’ve sworn you were hallucinating. He grinned upon seeing you, and for a moment, your heart fluttered, or maybe you were just dying. Regardless, you were glad to see him, even if he had done this to you.

“Fuck, seein’ you back here is somethin’ else,” he growled lowly, setting the water bottle tauntingly close to you and adjusting his crotch. “How’s your vacation been?”

You balked at his statement. Vacation?

“What? You ain’t been doin’ shit the past few days, just lyin’ around here. Seems like you don’t appreciate it, though,” he said.

You shook your head frantically, unable to speak. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, tapping the ashes onto your bound leg. Your muscles flinched, and you hissed in pain.

Though you knew what was coming next, you still couldn’t mentally prepare yourself for the way he took a long drag from the cigarette before putting it out on your leg, holding it for at least ten painful seconds as a harsh cry came from your parched windpipe. Between the pain from your leg and your throat, you felt like you were being torn in half. He snickered as he pulled it away, his other hand brushing the freshly burnt skin as you screamed again.

“Why don’t I make it better for ya, darlin’?” he asked, conniving condescension in his voice as he picked up the unopened water bottle, twisting the cap open, and pouring half of it onto your leg.

Fuck, you should’ve killed the girl you had the chance. The first water you’d seen in days and half of it was running down your fucking leg.

“Stop,” you croaked.

He grinned, holding up the water bottle. “Where’s your manners, darlin’?”

“Please.”

Once again, he set the water bottle down, but this time he unstrapped your arms and legs from the surgical bed. You knew better than to assume you’d get out of it with mild dehydration and a cigarette burn. Your legs gave out beneath you, and you fell to the floor. He looked more than pleased with this. It’s where he wanted you anyway.

He grabbed the water bottle, and you opened your mouth, expecting the extent of your humiliation before him to be his pouring the water into your mouth so you’d choke on it or something. Instead, he poured the water on the floor directly in front of you, and you looked at him in horrified disbelief.

“Well? I thought you were thirsty,” he said, stepping in the puddle of water before you.

You let out a whimper before lowering your head, hesitating for a moment. With a shaky breath, you stuck out your tongue, and as soon as it touched the water, you lost control. What little dignity you had left in your brain screamed at you to stop, that you were better than this and you’d probably get tetanus or jaundice, or some kind of -ice or -itis that would fuck up your intestines royally.

The rest of your body, that was parched and desperate overtook your reasoning, and you lapped up the dirty water at his feet like–well, your life did depend on it. The water was disgusting, and you gagged a few times while licking it up, the taste of dirt and copper and god knows what else mingling in your mouth. Then, when the floor was as dry as it could get, and all of the water was gone, you looked up to see his cock in his hand, a sadistic grin on his face as he jerked himself off over you.

“Fuck, you’re the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he grunted in perverse adoration.

You moved to take over, assuming that was what he wanted you to do next until he pushed you onto your ass with his free hand. It felt like you were watching him for eternity before he came with a loud groan, throwing his head back as his cum pumped from his cock and onto the floor. When he was finished, he looked over at you with hooded lids and a lazy, shit-eating grin.

“Get a move on, darlin’. I wanna see you lick it up like a little bitch again.”

Though you had a bit more resolve this time around, your lip trembling as you stuck your tongue out, almost recoiling when you tasted his cum on the floor. Apparently, you weren’t licking it up enthusiastically enough for his liking, because you felt his boot on the back of your head, pushing your face into the floor.

With tears in your eyes, you lapped up his cum like you did the water just moments before, and a pleased groan came from above you. You actually heard his pants zipper this time, trying to focus on anything but the overwhelming nausea and rancid mix of semen and whatever else was on the floor. Somehow, you managed to lick it all up, not without losing a solid amount of respect for yourself first.

Suddenly, you started gagging, feeling the sour mix of floor water and cum making its way back up your esophagus.

He covered your mouth with his hand. “Keep it down, darlin’, or I’ll make you lick that up too.”

Your muffled whine was all the affirmation he needed, and you somehow willed yourself not to throw up.

“Next time you think for a second you can get away with not doin’ what I say, I want you to remember this,” he hissed in your ear.

You nodded, bleary eyed as he helped you up from the floor, practically having to drag you up the stairs. He drove you back up to the house, and the next week or so consisted of you slowly regaining your strength and attempting to get back in his good graces, if you could even call it that. Despite everything, you wanted his attention, his approval. After all, he let you live despite your massive fuck up. He was all you had. Against every rational bone in your body, you still loved him.

The town was quiet again, until the weekend before the Fourth of July, when it wasn’t. You were in the gas station, this time with Bo nearby in the garage when another couple walked into the shop. They were smiling and holding hands. You almost wondered if they were in the right place. As they walked up to the counter, you greeted them as pleasantly as you could.

“Your face–oh honey, you alright?” the woman asked, genuine concern laced in her voice that made you want to cry. The cut on your cheek where Bo had hit you wasn’t fully healed, and despite your care, it would undoubtedly scar over.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said. “I took a walk during my lunch break the other day and tripped on the gravel road up the way.”

“Well, we’d appreciate some help. Got some car trouble up the road. We were gonna walk, but this nice fella gave us a ride,” the guy said.

“Sure, my husband Bo’s the mechanic. I’ll go get him,” you said, leaving for the nearby garage to let Bo know about the customers.

Why did these ones have to be nice?

“Husband and wife, Lester dropped them off because their car broke down on the side of the road but they’re not sure what’s wrong with it,” you explained quietly.

“You fuck this up,” he threatened through gritted teeth, “and I swear to god, I’ll make sure Vincent keeps ya alive when you join your little friends.”

“I won’t.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it. She better be dead by the time I get back with his body.”

“She will be.”

You and Bo walked back into the shop, his arm around your waist as the two of you sauntered back into the storefront.

“Sorry ‘bout the wait. My wife tells me y’all’s car broke down?”

“Yeah, the man who dropped us off said you could tow it back here? We’re real sorry for the trouble, but if you could–”

Bo smiled. “No trouble at all. You wouldn’t mind comin’ with me to pick it up? Don’t wanna drag the wrong guy’s car all the way back here.”

“‘Course, is there a motel nearby we can stay in if the repairs take a few days?” the guy asked.

“Yeah, I can show you on the way back, and then Y/N can give y’all a lift there once I get the car in the garage.”

“Thank you so much,” the woman said. “You two are really sweet.”

“We’re just glad to help,” you said.

Bo grabbed the tow truck keys from one of the hooks on the wall, before pulling you in for a kiss. You wished he didn’t kiss you so sweetly only because there were other people around. Hell, you almost considered escalating it, the couple wouldn’t live to tell anyone anyway.

“We’ll be back quick, darlin’,” Bo murmured against your lips. “You girls stay out of trouble.”

The woman laughed, shaking her head as her own husband gave her a kiss before walking out of the shop with Bo.

“So, how long have you and your wife been together?” you could hear the guy ask Bo.

You wanted to keep interactions with the woman as minimal as possible, but she was frustratingly sweet, insisting on helping you with the bullshit task you’d made up to try to keep your distance from her. She reminded you of your own friends, in a way, or maybe someone being genuinely nice to you for the first time in nearly a year made you overly sentimental.

“That’s wonderful you get to work with your husband. I’m sure y’all are either really close or ya can’t stand each other,” she said.

“Something like that.”

“I hope Billy and me get to do somethin’ like this one day, maybe with a few kids runnin’ around,” she said wistfully. “I’m probably gettin’ ahead ‘a myself.”

You gave her a terse smile. Poor Billy won’t be doing shit. Glancing at the clock, about twenty minutes had passed. If Bo and Billy–of course Deanna had given you their fucking names–weren’t at the car by now, they were going to be close. Your window of opportunity was shrinking with each passing second.

“You’ve really been so helpful, Deanna. Are you sure you don’t wanna wait?” you asked.

“Lord no. Ain’t many people like you and your husband around nowadays,” she smiled. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Alright, well, I gotta get something from up front really quick.”

She nodded absentmindedly as she looked through the box of fan belts you were restocking.

The shop felt unsettlingly cold for the season as you rounded the counter, grabbing for the gun that was kept underneath it. Your breath hitched when you came up empty. He moved it, probably on purpose so your first kill would have to be more bloody, more personal. You’d lost the privilege of a clean, easy kill.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you considered your options. The screwdriver was definitely out, and you couldn’t head back into the garage and dig through Bo’s tools without her seeing you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked frantically around the shop until you noticed a letter opener laying next to the cash register.

You walked to the back of the store, Deanna still facing away from you. The letter opener would hurt like hell. It wasn’t even that sharp to begin with, and you’d have to really work to make sure she was dead. Taking a deep breath, you plunged it into her shoulder blade and then back out.

“Lady, what the fuck is your problem?” she shouted, reaching for her shoulder and gasping in pain.

You froze. You fucked up, and Bo was gonna be back soon. Both you and Deanna had the same idea, because as soon as she ran, you sped after her. Though you were still weak from your days in the basement, she wasn’t very athletic herself. She tried several shop doors, distressed to find them locked, until she made a break for the church. You followed close behind. There was no person, no deity in that church who could save her.

By the time you got inside the church, she’d already realized that the congregation, the priest, everyone was fake. The confusion on her face shifted to panic as soon as she saw you.

“Get the fuck away from me you psycho bitch!” she yelled, throwing hymnals at you as you approached with your sad little letter opener.

In your desperation, you tackled her, but the letter opener slipped out of your hands. The two of you punched and clawed at each other, until she rolled over, and you shoved your finger in the wound in her shoulder blade. Her screams fell on deaf ears as once again you looked frantically for something nearby that you could use as a weapon. Your gaze landed on the rosary beads clutched between Trudy’s wax-preserved hands, and you dug your finger deeper into Deanna’s shoulder blade as you maneuvered the rosary beads out from the casket.

Rosary beads in hand, you pulled your finger from the now gaping wound in Deanna’s shoulder blade and pulled the rosary around her neck, the individual glass beads digging into her skin as you pulled tighter and tighter, your own hands getting cut up with the force you were using to strangle her. It seemed like it was a never-ending struggle until finally, she went limp beneath you, and you pulled the rosary away, small cuts in her neck beading and dripping down her throat.

You put your fingers to her pulse and waited. Nothing. You did it. Throwing the rosary beads back into the casket, you didn’t look forward to telling Vincent which statute needed repairs now. That was nothing, though. You could deal with his moping for a few days. Besides, you got one, a brand new addition to the growing town.

Grabbing Deanna’s limp body, you began the ordeal of dragging it back to the gas station so Bo could see your handiwork for himself. You only got about halfway back before the tow truck pulled up, Billy and Deanna’s car hitched to the back. As soon as Bo stopped the truck, Billy hunched over. He was definitely dead.

Bo got out of the truck, rushing over to you. He looked at Deanna’s body, and then to you.

“What’d you use?” he asked, taking your cut up hands in his, inspecting the wounds, your own stigmata.

“Strangled her with your mom’s rosary beads,” you answered quietly. “Sorry.”

He grinned. “You did good, darlin’.”

All of the tension in your body released at those words, and you smiled, throwing your arms around him and kissing him deeply, giggles emitting from your chest every few seconds. Maybe it was the adrenaline still rushing through you, or maybe Bo had been right all along. You felt…great.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x female reader #bo sinclair #house of wax #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #slasher community #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair x you

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emxisms · 9 months

Note

Hello! I hope your having a nice day, and that your eating well. Do you have some time to make thomas Hewitt, Vincent, Bo, Lester, and Bubba x reader who changes their personality for each individual person and is a people pleaser? If you can, it's appreciated! If you can't it's ok! Just make sure to drink se water and keep eating <3

Thank you my love. I hope you're taking care of yourself aswell. 🖤

𝕾𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔢𝔬𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢𝔯 𝔰/𝔬 ❦

Includes: Sinclair Brothers, Bubba Sawyer.

Summary: Reader (they/them) is a huge people pleaser, and will change anything if not everything about depending on who they're talking to.

Warnings: Strong Language

𝔅𝔬 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔯 ❦

The fuck? Why are you acting like that, saying those kinds of things with them when you aren't anything like that?

"You just want them to like 'ya? Hell, if they don't.. They got another thing comin'."

Thinks it's stupid at first. He'll grow with it after time, the more you explain to him why you feel the need to change yourself for others the more he'll understand. Although he thinks you're perfect the way you are anyway.

𝔙𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔯 ❦

He noticed it a while ago, but he never said anything. He always understood the reasons behind it.

Will never question you about it. It makes him sad thinking you don't see yourself the way he does, but he won't pester you about it. He hates making you upset, even just seeing you upset he doesn't like.

Ever since it became a huge thing, he started reassuring you more. Signing that you're perfect no matter the way you are, more hugs and kisses, etc. Anything to make you feel better. Anything to make you love yourself.

𝔏𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔯 ❦

He would catch on to you acting differently depending on who you're talking to, changing your opinions to fit theirs, completely different humor, etc. It would confuse him incredibly.

"Why aren't you being yourself?.. Are you even being yourself when you're with me, or..?" You'll break his heart. He wants you to be able to be yourself, to have pride in who you are.

When you explain to him that it's not always a self confidence thing, but a people pleasing thing, he'll understand, he wants people to like him too. But that wont stop him from thinking you should still be yourself, because fuck whoever doesn't like you.

𝔅𝔲𝔟𝔟𝔞 𝔖𝔞𝔴𝔶𝔢𝔯 ❦

When he finds out you're afraid of being yourself because you want everyone else to like you, and so you change yourself for them.. his heart shatters. Immediate whining and sad pouty lips.

Even though he can't say it, he'll show it. He will show you how perfect you are. He's immediately bringing you to the mirror and pointing everything out about you that's perfect the way it is. Your laugh? Beautiful. Fashion sense? Amazing. Favorite song and color? His too.

Will dedicate the rest of his life to your interests. Everything has to be your way now, that's just how it has to be if that means you'll appreciate yourself for who you are.

Requests are open! Please read my pinned post for further information.

#bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #bubba saywer x reader #bo sinclair x female reader #bubba sawyer #slashers x reader #gn reader #slasher x reader

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mandowifey · 1 year

Note

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

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

I assign you; Bo and Vincent Sinclair!

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

Be gentle.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

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

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

You didn't care much for it either way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A large hand claps your back and makes you gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Vincent!" You whisper.

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

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

"No new ones today."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm home "

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its-monster-mash · 1 year

Text

Didn’t Your Momma Ever Tell You not to Talk to Strangers

Bo Sinclair X Reader - Part Three

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Rough Sex(Consensual), Allusion to past non-con(not with Reader)

Part One Part Two

You stir awake, confused with your body aching, in an unfamiliar bed. The last night’s events come back to you when your eyes settle on the man sprawled out on the bed next to you.

Bo.

He looks so peaceful, almost angelic where the light peeks through the heavy curtains and illuminates him. You can’t help but to lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

A sharp inhale, and a soft sigh, and he’s settled deeper into sleep’s embrace. For a moment, you think about settling back into the blankets yourself—it would be so easy to settle into the crook of Bo’s arm—but you’d skipped lunch yesterday, and then missed dinner in favor of satisfying more urgent hungers, so the treacherous bastard that is your stomach forces you to stay awake.

Still though, it’s hard to tear your eyes away from him, now that you have a moment to take in his form in relative stillness.

You know it’s rude to stare, but there’s no one awake to catch you now, so you let your eyes wander over him unreserved—more studying him than anything. Your breath catches in your lungs when you get a good look at his wrists—you’d thought you’d seen scars, but you’d been so preoccupied with the rest of him last night that you didn’t really let it sink in.

You can tell by the thickness and coloration that these are old scars, and you shudder to think of what exactly could have done that to him.

He lets out a small whimper in his sleep, and that reminds you that your little habit is still fucking creepy when the subject of your fascination is asleep—perhaps moreso.

He makes more small sounds of distress, and you wonder if maybe you should wake him—would that be more kind than letting him sleep?

Probably not—he exerted himself quite a bit last night, taking you through round after round of sticky, sweaty, bloody sex—honestly you’re surprised the two of you aren’t sticking to the sheets right now. Smoothing the mess of his hair out of his forehead, you lean in to press another soft kiss to the clammy skin there, and you’re relieved to see him calm, relaxing back into a deep sleep.

Food.

The cavity inside of you aches from the emptiness, and it’s loud and insistent enough to take precedence over the ache of your muscles, and the bruises he’s left all over your body like a lover’s lipstick.

There’s an old Korn shirt folded up beside your pillow that most definitely wasn’t there when you fell asleep—you figure Bo must have left it there for you. You don’t bother to go and find your bra, pulling the soft-worn shirt over your head like a trophy.

Damn.

It’s been a long time since you’ve worn someone else’s clothes, and you relish the way it feels against your skin.

No sense in bothering with bottoms—the shirt is long enough that you’ve worn dresses shorter than it—and you doubt Bo will complain if he’s got easy access when he does wake up.

Especially if he comes downstairs to find you fixing the two of you some breakfast.

He laid down a few ground rules before you fell asleep in his arms last night—you could help yourself to anything in the kitchen as long as you made enough to share, but under no circumstances were you to go in the basement or to go outside without him.

You’d made fun of him about his Mysterious Basement, and something strange flashed across his eyes before he explained that there was a lot of dangerous old equipment down there that he didn’t want messed with—and that the locals are not the friendliest with outsiders, so it’s just best that you don’t go tryin’ to explore the town without him.

He didn’t need to explain himself to you, though—you’re plenty happy to follow his rules since he’s kind enough to let you stay with him after shit hit a boiling point with Tasha and her annoying little boytoy.

It was her that wanted him to come along after all—but all he’d done was bother you.

She had the fucking nerve to be mad at you for it.

You look forward to stopping in to see Bo every time you make your bi-monthly road trip, but yesterday you’d hoped that reminding Tasha, and Corey, of your crush on Bo would get them both to lay off—but Corey pushed you over the edge.

Maybe Tasha was right—maybe you are putting yourself in unnecessary danger; Bo is still technically a stranger to you, after all—you don’t even know his last name.

But if you’d stayed, you couldn’t guarantee that you’d behave—at least this way you could stay in a house with someone you want to trust—rather than getting kicked out on the side of the road after you inevitably wiped that smirk off of Corey’s face.

You don’t think of yourself as particularly violent—but there’s only so far you can be pushed before something snaps in you, and you know it—it’s just safer for everyone if you stay here with Bo until Tasha can come back without him.

But none of that’s important right now.

Now the pressing issue is getting yourself acquainted with his kitchen—first thing’s first—you’d better get it cleaned up before you start digging around for ingredients. It feels a little tacky to get cooking and then only wash what you used when he’s got so much lying around.

Ooh, better start coffee too, you might need it by the time you’re done cleaning up.

It’s not that you’re judging—you’ve seen worse messes in the college dorms, to be honest—but he never did discuss any kind of rent for your stay, so the least you can do is take care of this much.

You’re washing up the last of the mugs when the sound of the kitchen door startles you, and an equally taken aback man stands in the doorway, staring at you with wide eyes that you’re sure match your own.

Bo didn’t tell you anyone else was supposed to show up, but the sheer confusion on the man’s face at the sight of you suggests he’s actually supposed to be here.

“Hey,” you force yourself to start talking, very much wishing you had bothered to find your shorts. “Uh…I’m a—guest—of Bo’s.” You’re suddenly very aware of all the bruises on your body, and you hope to god the man has the decency not to mention them.

You hold your still-soapy hand out for him to shake, and he accepts it a bit awkwardly.

“Blink twice if you’re here against your will.”

For a moment he looks serious, but at the look of utter confusion on your face, he breaks into a wide grin and an easy laugh that makes you feel a whole lot better.

“I’m just foolin’ wit’cha.” He drops his duffel bag to the ground, taking a seat at the table as he studies you. “So you’re Bo’s mysterious girlfriend—heard a lot about you—wasn’t sure you actually existed.”

“Not sure I’d use that word quite yet.” You offer an awkward laugh, turning back to the sink to hopefully hide the way the thought of being something more than just a convenient Fuck Buddy to Bo makes you blush.

“Bo would.” He grins, seeming to relish your discomfort. “Name’s Lester—I’m the baby brother.”

“Nice to meet you.” You smile at him, tugging the hem of your borrowed shirt. “I didn’t know Bo had brothers.” Of course, you don’t actually know very much about Bo to begin with.

“Yeah, there’s two of us—Vincent is Bo’s twin, but uh—I don’t know if you’ll see him any time soon.” Lester squints, squeezing his lips together like he’s suddenly not sure exactly how much he’s supposed to tell you—given Bo apparently hasn’t bothered to fill you in on much of anything.

“Why not? Is he away?” Your brow furrows; it’s really none of your business—but he seemed to offer the information readily enough.

“Vin’s shy—he’s one a’ them reclusive artist types.” He drums his fingers on the table. “He’s real talented though; got a lot a’ work down in our Momma’s ol’ Wax Museum.”

Your eyes light up, and suddenly you find yourself forgetting to be self-conscious. “No kidding; I saw the outside of the Museum when Bo drove me up here, but I haven’t been in.”

His eyes narrow on you, his expression becoming ever-so-slightly hesitant—you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t spent so much time studying body language over the years. “Just how much of the town have you seen?”

“Not a thing,” you admit. “I’ve only ever stopped by to see Bo—and last night he said he doesn’t want me going down into town without him.”

“Oh.” Lester nods slowly, like things are falling into place for him. “Okay, that makes sense.”

You’re about to open your mouth to ask more questions, when Lester perks up. “Hey, you’re the one always bringin’ Bo snacks and stuff—did I interrupt you gettin’ ready to cook breakfast?”

There it is.

“I was just getting the dishes out of the way before I start looking at ingredients.” You dry your hands off on your shirt. “Bo said I could help myself to the kitchen as long as I made enough to share.”

“Oh, so now he’s all about sharing,” Lester huffs, and you can’t help grinning at the way his arms cross like a petulant child. “Greedy bastard won’t let anyone else try the goodies you bring him.” He does his best to look all big and mean and grumpy, and you snort when you realize he’s doing an impression of Bo. “She made it for me—get your own girl.”

“Oh he didn’t,” you laugh. “That’s so rude.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’!” He throws his hands up into the air. “So—you want me to help you find anything? That oughta earn me a seat at the table, right?”

“Sure, Lester.” You smile at him, crossing your arms playfully as you picture Bo hoarding your gifts and calling you his girl. “I’ll bake some muffins if we’ve got the stuff for them—that’s a sharing food.”

“Wow, you are sweet.” He pulls over a chair to climb on, getting a better vantage point to peruse the cabinets. “The hell are you doin’ wit’ Bo?”

“Well, he’s been sweet to me.”

“Sure as hell have,” Bo grumbles, wandering into the kitchen in nothing but boxers and socks.

Your chest tightens at the sight of him, thinking about what Lester had said. “I made coffee—Lester was just helping me find the ingredients I need to make a batch of muffins.”

His expression softens, and he sidles up real close to you, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Coffee, fresh baked muffins, and a pretty girl gettin’ it for me—man could get used to that.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. “There’s a can ‘a pumpkin in the third cabinet over.”

That’ll occupy Lester for a second; long enough for Bo to lift your shirt up for a quick peek—relishing the marks he’d left on your body—evidence that may as well spell out ‘Bo Sinclair Was Here’. He chuckles when you cover yourself back up at breakneck speed—pleased that he’s the only one you’re eager to go showin’ off for.

He takes a step closer, pinning you between the kitchen counter and his large frame—he relishes the way your hands splay across his chest when he presses a less than innocent kiss under your ear. “Sorry I forgot to tell you we ain’t alone on Laundry Day,” he whispers, his hot breath washing over your ear before he teases you terribly with a lascivious nip. “Otherwise I’d take you right fuckin’ now.”

“Still in the room,” Lester groans in mock irritation, tossing the can of pumpkin at Bo.

He’s fast as lightning when he turns to catch it, and annoyance flashes across his face. “Hey dumbass, you could’a hit her.”

“Oh no way,” Lester laughs. “You wouldn’ta let your girlfriend get hit.” He mocks Bo with an exaggerated show of over the top kissy noises, and Bo whips the can back at him.

“I’m gonna hit you if you keep runnin’ yer damn mouth!” Bo makes the sourest damn expression you’ve ever seen—not unlike a kid in full-tantrum mode—before he picks up Lester’s duffel bag and tosses it to him—a little more gently. “Go do your fuckin’ laundry—shit’s stinkin’ up the place.”

“Oh because roadkill is so much worse than motor oil.” Lester rolls his eyes, but ducks when Bo grabs a mug out of the dish strainer. “It was nice to meet you!” He shoots you one last smile before running off into some other part of the house.

“You guys are such brothers—”

You’re cut off by Bo’s lips on yours, and you gasp when he picks you up and sets your ass down right on the kitchen counter. “Sorry,” he grunts, not sounding remotely sorry. “Couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Bo!” You shriek, weaving your fingers into his hair when he pushes his way between your thighs, his hot tongue dragging through your folds and across your clit.

Your pussy is still sore and swollen from the absolute punishment it took from him last night, so you’re already overstimulated when he slips a finger inside, growling like an animal as he sucks on your clit.

You can’t help squeezing your thighs together around his head, and apparently that was the wrong move, because his mouth leaves your clit in order to bite down hard on the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

He grins when he hears you yelp.

He leans back, taking a good eyeful of you sat up on the counter, your face flushed with need—for him—with only one of his old shirts for modesty. He sees something in your eyes that he’s never been able to simply take from the victims he’s had before.

You want him, and there ain’t a lick of shame in your eyes about it.

He rubs the already bruising spot where he’d bitten you with a careful tenderness, and you hum. “God, you’re just so damn good for me.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You’ve spent exactly one night here—he knows it’s not the time to be laying it on so thick. You ain’t like the other girls—you still like him by choice—he doesn’t want to fuck that up by letting you know just how much of an effect you have on him. How much he’s fixated on you from the very beginning.

He doesn’t want to give you that kind of power over him—he can’t afford to give you a knife to twist.

But God help him, there you go twisting it anyway.

He’d been so caught up in his own head that he hadn’t noticed your soft hands creeping up to cup his cheeks—fuck—you always look so fuckin’ sweet when you hold him tender and look into his eyes.

He’s terrified you’re gonna look right into his soul, and that you won’t like what you see.

“Wanna be your good girl,” you whisper, your lips ghosting his before you take his bottom lip between your teeth.

“Oh Sugar,” he groans, moving his hand between you to rub your clit—taking back at least a little control. “You got no idea what you’re doin’ to me.”

You whimper so sweet against his lips, and he drinks it all in. He kisses the corner of your mouth, the curve of your jaw, your throat—lower and lower until he’s once again settled between your legs.

You deserve this. So good for him. The longer he can keep you dumb for his touch the longer he can keep you here and drag out the illusion that he’s the man you want, the man who makes your heart flutter with something other than fear.

Two fingers—you’re already wet enough that he ain’t bothering with just one—curl against the sweet spot inside of you, and your hands are back in his hair as you squirm in his grasp.

“Want you to look at me,” he growls against your clit, before his tongue darts back out to trace his full name.

God.

There’s a desperate hunger in your eyes when they meet his, and he knows that the tears of pleasure pricking at your lashes are all for him.

“Fuck, Bo,” you whine, wriggling your hips against his face. “Gonna cum.”

“Come on, Baby,” he grunts. “Le’me have it.”

He’s utterly transfixed by the way you try to keep your eyes open when you lose control of your body—like you want to see the man between your legs as he laps up your sweet juices.

It’s a big fuckin’ ego boost, and it goes straight to his head.

Suddenly, he’s standing, looming over you and wrapping a hand around your throat while the other keeps on pettin’ your sweet pussy.

“Bo, please,” you whine, your thighs trembling from the overstimulation. “It’s too much.”

“Bo, please,” he teases you, though he gives you a break long enough to pull his cock free from his boxers, sliding it through your slick before smacking you a couple good times against the clit. “You want this cock, honey?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while your eyes fixate on where the head of his cock just barely dips into you.

“Words, Sugar,” he insists, the hand on your throat moving to cup your jaw to force you to look him in the eyes. Mistake. His heart flutters at the look of utter need you give him. “You want more than just the tip, you're gonna have to remember your manners.”

“Please, Bo,” you beg, your lip quivering pathetically as you try to will your pretty little head to form thoughts. “Need to feel you inside me.”

Need.

He can’t help himself from sinking into you—‘Need’ feels like a good word when he’s buried deep in the warmth of your sex. He kisses you hard, and he knows damn well his grip on your jaw is gonna bruise—but as long as you keep clinging to him for dear life and moaning so pretty in his mouth he can’t be bothered to care. His tongue traces the curve of your lips, before plunging past your teeth to dance against your own.

“You like tastin’ yourself on me, Sweetheart?”

You nod, stealing another kiss like you can’t help yourself before deigning to speak. “Fuck, Bo, yes.”

One of your hands snakes around to squeeze his throat, and the growl that escapes him is nothing short of feral.

For a split second, he’s enraged that you’d fuckin’ dare, but the manic lust on your face as you choke him is so damn hot he nearly busts right there.

Instead, he pulls out of you, ripping himself from your grasp. You let out a ragged moan from the loss of contact, but he doesn’t give you enough time to be disappointed before grabbing you by the back of the neck and slamming you face down against the table, giving your ass a good hard smack with his free hand.

God damn you’re a filthy slut—wriggling your ass back against him like you’re desperate for it.

Lucky for you, you’re not the only one who’s nasty.

He rams his cock back into your heat, his grip on your neck still forcing your face down into the table as he chases his release like a beast in rut.

He growls in your ear, more animal than man, before taking the lobe between his teeth. “You’re mine, you fuckin’ hear me?”

“Bo!” You shriek, the coil at the core of your pleasure threatening to snap.

“Say you know you’re fuckin’ mine,” he growls. “‘I’m yours, Bo.’” His other hand slips around you to palm your clit roughly, too roughly. “Say. It.”

“I’m YOURS,” you all but sob as you come undone around his cock, body all alight from the too-intense pleasure.

He’s not far behind—his thrusts become erratic, and he doesn’t even care about dragging it out any longer as he explodes inside of you, panting like a dog against your shoulder as your bodies melt into shuddering spasms.

“Damn fuckin’ right.”

He allows himself to slump back into one of the kitchen chairs, dragging you with him with his cock still inside you.

You take his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles. His heart lurches in his chest.

“Fuck, Bo.” You lean your head back against his shoulder, smiling at him with that blissed out and dumb look on your face. “That’s one way to work up an appetite.”

His hand snakes up to squeeze your titty through his old shirt as he laughs, burying his face in your shoulder.

He can hardly fucking believe you’re real.

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small-sinclair · 1 year

Text

Never Leave

Dad!Bo x preg!fem reader

Tw: nightmare, blood, death

“Say you’ll never leave me?” Bo whispers, resting your head on his shoulder. Blood drips from your chest like a waterfall even when he tries to to stop it with his hands. He’s choking back tears as he rocks back and forth. “Say it, y/n. Just say it.”

“I’ll nev-never leave y-you,” you stuttered, trying so hard to breath, to stay awake. “I-I won’t leave.”

“Stay with me? Love me?”

You brought a shaky hand to his cheek, and he holds it there, kissing the palm. His eyes shimmer as tears fall like an open dam. “Y/n? Don-don’t leave me. Don’t leave’ me alone.”

You tried to keep your eyes open, but it’s too heavy and too much all at once. You look up and smile to yourself. The stars are out tonight. You love stars.

“Bo,” you breathed. “Stars… the stars are out…”

He watched a tear leave your eyes as the light blew out like a candle.

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

Bo wakes up screaming your name. Sweat covered his forehead as his head snapped over to your spot in bed.

You weren’t there.

“No,” he breathed, his breath shaky and scared. “No. Y/n?” He got out of bed in a flash. “Y/n!” It’s a dream, it has to be!

Bo flew down the steps and rounded the corner towards the kitchen. He lets out a tired sigh when he sees you with a pint of ice cream on the counter and a spoon in your mouth. You looked back at him like a deer in the head lights before eating your ice cream again.

“Baby,” he stammers as he enter the room. He starts to cry when he hugs you tightly. He squeezed his eyes shut as he liters you with quick kisses. “Darlin’, don’t leave lik’ ‘at again.”

You stood confused but you hug him. You rubbed his back and let him cry in your shoulder. “Where’s this coming from?” You asked. “Nightmare?”

He doesn’t say anything as he sobs in your shoulder. He thought he lost you. He thought you and Dallas were gone for good. He can’t lose you… he can’t. “Don’t leave me. Never leave.” He let’s up and rested his head against your forehead. “Never leave.”

You run his fingers through his curls and nod. “I won’t, honeycomb,” you kissed his lips. “I promise.” You look back at the counter then at him. “Baby wants ice cream.”

“Yeah?” He tries to center himself, and you can see he’s really trying.

Then an idea hits.

“I know what’ll cheer you up. Wanna feel something cool?” You take his hands and lower them to your stomach. He looked at you confused then eyes lit up as he felt a little kick. He looked down then back up, mouth a gap. The nightmare that he had soon became a memory as he felt another kick. He laughs nervously and happily, sad tears turning into joy.

“Our-our boy?” He asked in disbelief. “He’s kickin’?”

“And wants ice cream,” you added, nodding at the carton behind him. “He woke me up and brought me to the freezer. I think he wants that.”

He grabs the ice cream and hands it to you. You started wolfing it down, humming in content. You look back up at him, smile, and rested your head on his shoulder. He swings an arm around you before kissing your head.

“Besides,” you started, “the boy needs you. I need you. Jasmine needs you— why would I leave a perfectly good man that loves me?” Your hand held his cheek, and he held it there, kissing the palm. “I love you, Beauregard.”

He leans into you touch. The nightmare tuck behind his brain and never came back. He has love for you. Only you. “I love you more, y/n.”

And what a promise that makes him whole.

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bella-goths-wife · 10 months

Note

Parent slashers with their newborn child?

Parent slashers with newborn child reader

Michael Myers

Michael found you abandoned in an alleyway, and shockingly didn’t kill you

You were crying which he found annoying but when he went to you, you opened your big eyes at him and the monster melted away

He picked up in your baby seat with both hands and had you facing him, completely unaware of how to hold a a baby

He takes you back to the myers residence and you continue to cry which annoys him to the point he has to go out and kill someone to relieve stress

He returned to find you gone and was furious as he search for you

The neighbour lady had found you after she heard crying from the abandoned home, and she took you to her house

Michael stumbles across you when she sees the neighbour lady changing you and feeding you

From watching her he leans how to hold, feed and change you before he kills her and takes you back to his home

He finds his old crib in the basement and pulls it into the bedroom he sleeps in

When he goes out to kill, he leaves you in the crib for long periods of time because as much as we all like to romanticise parent Michael, he would definitely be a neglectful parent

He tried to take you on one killing spree by carrying you in the portable baby carrier but one of his victims distracted him by grabbing you and running

This caused the other victim to get the police involved and Michael gets brought to the asylum

You are taken into social care until Loomis offered to have you in his care, so he could use you to test Michaels morality

Loomis scheduled you to be with Michael for a day once a week and honestly it was the highlight of Michaels week

He’d hold you to his chest and refuse to let you go or to let anyone touch you

When it came time for the session to end, Michael had to be physically subdued so they could get you out the room

Eventually Michael escapes and kidnaps you but he would be captured again a few months afterwards

This cycle would continue until your teens, you even saw Loomis as a secondary parent figure at that point

It was like a lethal custody battle

Bo Sinclair

You were a product of one of Bo’s many one night stands

Your mother was a woman in the village who got pregnant and when she told Bo, he begged for her to get an abortion

She refused and he refused to be in the baby’s life, your mother was exceptionally happy about that

One person who did want to be in your life was lester, so he stayed by your mother until she gave birth so he could know his niece or nephew

Once your mother gave birth, she was ordered to have bed rest so lester offered to babysit you during the day

So lester brought you to all his duties, including taking you to the house

Vincent met you and instantly fell in love with your chubby cheeks and your baby hands

Bo was less ecstatic about having you in the house and would visibly avoid you

That was until lester went for a nap and left you in the portable crib in the living room

Bo walked in and saw you before trying to slowly back away like you were some wild animal, it was too late and you began to cry

Bo called for his brothers to no answer so he picked you up awkwardly and rocked you

You giggled at him and out your hands on his cheeks

Bo didn’t want to admit it, but that warmed his heart slightly

So the next time you came around, he was much more involved

His world shifted and he was no longer the most important person in his life, you were

He begged your mother to let him have custody of you, she refused and said that it was too late for him to step up

He felt jealous of Lester being able to see you every day, and it all got worse when bo stumbled across you calling Lester ‘dada’

That was the last straw, he killed your mother and had her body made into a wax figure

The courts awarded him custody and now he was fully involved with you

He had to have Lester teach him a few things but he took good care of you for the most part

He grew less and less interested in you as time went on

so even though he was now legally your father, you still secretly call Lestor dad every once and a while

Vincent Sinclair

You were one of Bo’s various abandoned children, but unlike the others your mother died in childbirth which left you under the care of Bo

Bo didn’t give a shit about you and would constantly leave you crying on the couch

Your crying would disturb Vincent’s artistic flow so he got angry and stormed up stairs to take care of the problem

He awkwardly rocked you until he realised that Bo hadn’t fed you and that’s why you were so fussy

Vincent gave you some baby formula and watched in awe as you giggled at him and made grabby hands at him

From that moment, vincent decided that he was your father and not bo

He would keep you downstairs with him at all times and even built you a crib but you mostly just co-slept with him

Bo didn’t care that Vincent had taken you, the only time he interacted with you was to yell at you

Vincent quickly shut that down in one of the only times he stood up to Bo

You grew with Vincent keeping you close at every moment, sure it was suffocating sometimes but it was better than the alternative which was Bo

All in all, Vincent was a good father to you

Thomas Hewitt

You were brought into the world when the hewitts kidnapped a young woman who was pregnant and her husband

The hewitts hesitated but thought as long as the baby wasn’t born, it wasn’t killing the baby because the mothers body would do that when she died

But she had to go and give birth while under captivity, the stress triggering labour and eventually ending with a crying baby

Your mother bled to death and the family eventually ate her and your biological father

Luda may refused to kill you, it went against her strict Christ fearing beliefs

So she insisted she would raise you as her own

But Luda may was an old woman, she didn’t have the energy to raise another child

So she passed on the responsibility to thomas who did most of the child care

She taught him how to hold a baby and how to feed them

He eventually found himself enjoying holding you and loving you

He grew into the title of ‘dada’ pretty quickly

The family deluded themselves that god had sent them a new Hewitt to pass on the family traditions

Hoyt tried to get Thomas to use the cry it out method for your crying but Thomas refused

When Hoyt forcefully removed you from your crib that Thomas had in the basement for you to get you to stop crying, thomas snatched you away and used his physical strength to threaten him away

Hoyt left you alone after that

Asa Emory

Asa saw that his cover as the kind, friendly professor wasn’t cutting it anymore

People were getting suspicious, hateful even

So what better way to make yourself look harmless as being a single father

Or even better, an abandoned single father

One of his favourite ’pets’ had been pregnant at the time and had given birth to you

How coincidental, so asa took you in and spun the story that the mother abandoned the two of you

I’m reality your mother was being tortured to death in the abandoned hotel

At first he just wanted to hire a team of nanny’s to deal with your care, but something changed

When he held you after your birth, he saw something

He saw his future, his legacy

He would raise you to be his carbon copy, you would continue his traditions

A part of him loved you, but another just saw your survival as necessary for his

He takes your care into his own hands and takes you everywhere with him

He granted your mother the privilege of holding you before he slit her throat, she would only stunt your progress if she was involved in your life

He was possessive over you, he refused to let anyone touch his legacy

If you were a boy, he would view you as more lovable because you could carry on the family name of Emory

If you were a girl, he would still love you and teach you but he would expect you to carry children in the future and he would try for a boy

If you were a girl he would also view your dating life as his legacy as his grandchildren need to continue his rich blood, he would hand pick you a male spouse no matter your sexual orientation

You would need to continue his line

Tiffany valentine

Tiffany was impregnated by Chucky before he died, and at first she resented the idea of being a single mother

That all changed when she felt you kick in her stomach

Your tiny feet giving her a feeling of butterflies wings as she smiled and held her enlarged stomach

When you were born, she cradled you close to her and laughed as you opened your eyes and she saw that you had your mothers eyes

She moved the two of you into the trailer and decided to go cold turkey on killing, she couldn’t leave her precious miracle alone now could she?

She would co-sleep with you because she couldn’t bare to not have the bonding time with you

She wouldn’t let anyone touch you, you were her miracle and she couldn’t risk you being hurt

She keeps her dating minimal and casual because she doesn’t want to have her time with you as a baby disturbed by outside influences

When Chucky reappeared, she was at first happy that you would have a father figure in your life

But after Chucky laughed in her face and threatened you, she took you and ran away from the doll forever

But Chucky seemed to have a change of heart when he realised that a game of ‘hide the soul’ would be a fun game to play with his dear child

Otis driftwood

Otis became your father through one of his victims

His victim thought it would be a good idea to seduce otis and then escape

It surprising worked well enough for her to fall pregnant

She attempted to run when she found out but she was hunted down by mama firefly and baby

They were elated to be an aunt and grandma

Otis was scared shitless

But family doesn’t abandon family

You were born and your mother was killed and her head was kept as a present for you when you were older

People told Otis that holding his child would make him feel like a changed man, but it didn’t

It just worsened his already terrible habits, but now he excused them as protecting you

He held you, and he fell in love

You were amazing, your big eyes stared at him and he was mesmerised by every movement

He even found himself cooing at you before he stopped

He isn’t massively involved in your care because mama and baby handles it

But he’s a weirdly involved father in other aspects such as education and affection

He’s an affectionate father when your a newborn

Whenever your not crying or being cooed at by other family members, your in his arms

He likes to sleep on the chair in his room while holding you in his arms

He loves when your tiny fists yank at his beard or hair, he finds it adorable

He kisses your forehead a lot and adores your giggles when he does

He truly loves you

When victims come over to the house, he always has an eye on who’s close by

He keeps you close to him and kills anyone who attempts to touch you, even in innocent ways

He vowed that when your older, you would learn the firefly ways

Baby firefly

Baby one day decided she wanted to be a mother

She saw what joy she brought mama firefly, she wanted that for herself

She found a man in a bar and got herself pregnant

Unlike most women, she enjoyed pregnancy

She felt close to you, you were growing inside her

You were a miracle that had taken plant in her womb

She had the support off mama and surprising Otis who offered her the baby daddy’s head and a baby shower present

You were born in the firefly residence as baby screamed and cried her way through labour

18 hours later and she held you in her arms, her bundle of joy

She had a crib made out of previous victims bones, another gift from mama this time

She would sometimes just watch you sleep peacefully, she just thought you were amazing

She would find the crying and the late nights irrationally annoying but she claimed it was worth it to see your chubby face in the morning

She’s pretty neglectful, but she tries her best

She spends most of her time killing people, which leaves mama to take care of you

But she still tries to be involved and plays with you whenever she remembers you exist

She would grow less interested in you as you grow but she would still find you amazing

You were still her baby no matter the age

When she’s caught and taken to prison, she can’t bare the thought of you being in another woman’s arms

When she gets back she kills your foster carer slowly and torturously

She would hold you in her arms while they were still bloody and would revel in your giggles

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