#house of wax smut

[illusioninfnty]

day 23 ; virginity loss

↠ bo sinclair x reader

fandom: house of wax word count: 2.8k warnings: nsfw 18+, bimbo!reader, reader has shitty friends, coercion, corruption, dubconish, fingering, blowjob, cum swallowing, dirty talk, kind of semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pervy!Bo, allusion to murder, the plot is like a bad porno but i promise this is good guys

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

“God, did you forget to fill the tank again?”

You lean over from the backseat to take a look at the fuel gauge, and see the arrow is nearing empty. You furrow your eyebrows. “I was sure it filled up all the way,” you murmur. You try to recall when you all last stopped at a gas station, and how your friends delegated you to fill up the car while they went into the shop and bought snacks.

“Well it obviously didn’t, you idiot!” Your friend jerks the wheel and pulls over on the side of the desolate road. “This is why we never like to go anywhere with you.” 

You bite your lip, holding back tears. It wasn’t your fault that you were so forgetful sometimes, always getting distracted and lost in your thoughts.

This was supposed to be a fun road trip with your three closest friends, celebrating your college graduation nearing. But after a car karaoke session that went on for too long made you guys miss an exit, you’d been stranded on empty roads with nothing but trees surrounding you for quite a few miles now.

Your friend sitting in the backseat with you turns to face you, her arms crossed against her chest. “You should be the one to go find a gas station,” she protests. “It’s your fault we got stuck out here anyway.”

Your two friends in the front row look back at you and then at each other before nodding in agreement.

You crane your neck to look at the journey that would be ahead of you. It looked as though it continued to stretch for miles and miles with no end in sight, only the empty road and dying trees.

“By myself?” you ask hesitantly.

All three nod in unison.

You huff in defeat, unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the vehicle.

“I’ll try to be back—”

They slam the door in your face before you can answer.

“—Soon,” you finish before sighing and starting the long walk, hoping to find some destination before it got too dark.

~

Bo was not expecting to see a pretty little thing like you around Ambrose when it was nearing dusk, especially all alone. You had your arms wrapped around your bare midsection, and even from his spot inside the gas station he could see that you were shivering from the cool air as the sun set. You were looking around frantically, and he could tell immediately that you were lost and looking for help.

He smirks. Oh, he’d help you, alright. Bo took that as his cue to reveal himself to you. He wipes his hands with a dirty rag and tosses it aside, exiting the station.

You hear the ringing of the bell as Bo opens the door, and you turn your head towards the source of the sound. You scurry on over, seeing Bo in his mechanic’s uniform.

“Sir! Hi!” you start, fumbling over your words. “You work here, right? Do you have some gas? My car—well, it’s my friend’s—but it’s, like, miles back there and we ran out.” 

Your eyes then shift to the side and he could tell you were embarrassed. “It’s kind of my fault.”

Hmm. Sir. He liked hearing that come from your pouty lips.

Bo gives you a toothy grin. “Don’t gotta worry your head ‘bout it, sweetheart. I’ll get ya all settled. Come with me.” He slides his hand across your lower back, just barely grazing your ass. You gasp under your breath at the feeling, and Bo can’t help it when his cock stirs at the sound.

As you walk into the gas station, Bo scans you up and down. He notices that you have nothing on your person but your clothes, and even then it’s just little scraps of a skimpy top and skirt—which means you must’ve forgotten a wallet, too. His grin widens even more.

Reaching behind him without you noticing, he cranks the thermostat down. The air gets cooler within seconds, and Bo revels in seeing your nipples harden as they poke through your top.

He goes to find a can of gas, rolling up his sleeves as he plucks it from a top shelf. He notices when you gulp and stare at his muscles as he flexes them subtly.

You were such a cute little doll. He was going to have fun with you.

He plops the can on the counter. You go to reach for it, but he holds a hand out. “Ten bucks, little lady.”

Your eyes bulge almost comically and it takes all of Bo’s strength not to laugh at your expression.

“Wow, that’s a lot more than I thought it would be,” you say nervously, shifting on the balls of your feet.

Bo exaggerates a sigh. “Times are tough out here, owning a small business like this. We don’t get many customers out here.” He opens his hands to motion to you the desolate town of Ambrose.

You completely buy into his bullshit excuse, nodding your head in complete understanding. “Oh my god, that sucks, like, a lot.” Patting down your lame excuse for a shirt, you look up at Bo with wide eyes, jaw dropped in surprise. “I forgot to bring my wallet!”

You were such a dumb little thing. What were your sorry excuses of friends thinking, sending you off all alone?

“I’m so sorry, sir!” You clasp your hands in front of you in a pleading manner, looking up at him with big, watery eyes. Bo holds back a groan. Jesus, those eyes could make a man cream his pants if he wasn’t too careful. “Please, is there anything I can do to pay you back? I’ll do anything!”

Bo pretends as if he’s thinking long and hard. Oh, he knew exactly what you were going to do as payment.

“You know, I get lonely sometimes,” Bo starts, a mock frown on his face. “A cute lady like you could really help a man like me out.” He shuffles up to you, and palms your ass under that sorry excuse for a skirt.

“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing onto his arm. “That’s really sad, sir.” You look lost in thought for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know if I can do that for you though.” You bite your lip, looking unsure of yourself.

“Aw, you gotta be kidding,” Bo clicks his tongue, rubbing his hand around the plumpness of your behind. “I bet you’ve helped lotsa guys out, huh?”

“A-actually,” you look down in shame. “I’m a—” you lower your voice to barely over a whisper, “—virgin.”

Bo blinks. That wasn’t a response he was expecting from you. So the slutty clothes were just for show, was it?

“Oh really?”

You nod, blatant regret all over your face. “I don’t think it’ll be good for you, ya’know, since I haven’t really had any practice and all that.”

He puts a smile back on, laughing gleefully and patting you on the shoulder, rubbing a thumb between the groove of your collarbone. “Well, that’s no problem for me, sweetheart. I can teach ya!”

Your eyes lighten up. “You can?”

“Sure I can!” He starts to undo his belt, throwing it aside on the counter. “Just need you to get on your knees for me and I can show you what to do.”

His cock jumps in anticipation, looking forward to seeing your juicy, plump lips wrapped around—

“Wait a minute!” you cry out, interrupting his fantasies.

Bo pauses in his movements, his jaw ticking at your interruption. “Yes?” he askes, concealing his frustration.

“What’s your name? I don’t wanna do this without knowing it.”

He sighs and points to the nametag on his jacket. “I’m Bo.”

You slap a palm across your forehead and nervously giggle. “Oh jeez, I should’ve known to look first!”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bo mutters through his teeth impatiently. “Now lemme help you out, alright?” “Oh! Yeah, sorry!” You—finally—drop to your knees in front of him. “What do I need to do?”

The sight of you in front of him like that, so eager and pliant, had his cock jumping in his pants.

Bo lowers his jeans and boxers, his hard cock now revealed to you. He wraps a hand around the base stroking his full length as it puts it on display for you.

“That’s…big,” you murmur. You look up at him, concern plastered across your features. “I dunno if it’s gonna fit.” Your eyebrows crease together and those damn pouty lips of yours come out again.

Bo bites his cheek to conceal his smirk. This was gonna be a lot more fun than he thought. “I told you, that’s what I’m helping you with, ain’t I?”

You nod.

“Great. Now open those pretty lips up for me.”

You open your mouth as wide as you can, giving Bo a perfect hole to stick his cock into. He guides himself inside you, hissing as the warmth of your mouth envelops his length.

“Good girl,” he praises. He begins to thrust his hips slowly, your lips latching onto him as he does so. “You gotta let me move, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you mumble around him, and he groans at the vibrations that travel up his cock.

Your lips loosen and you start to suck on his cock, the suction of your lips making shivers of pleasure run down his spine. He grips the back of your head, controlling the pace of his thrusts.

“Fuck, look at you,” Bo hisses. You look so pretty and innocent with his cock stuffed down your throat, gags escaping your lips. “You’re a natural. Sure you haven’t done this before?”

“I told you—!”

Bo slaps your cheek, shushing you. “Stop talking.”

You nod obediently, the action making him pulse inside of your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens as his thrusts become harder, more primal. He fucks your mouth with vigor, ignoring your gags and the way your nails dig into the skin of his thighs.

He cums faster than he’s ever had before, groaning as his hot release coats the back of your throat. You cough around his cock, spurts of liquid splashing against your cheeks.

“Swallow it,” Bo commands.

You gulp harshly, your lips still secured around his cock. The extra pressure has him bucking his hips and like a good girl you swallow all of his cum. He pulls his cock out of your mouth, and you begin to cough and sputter as you regain your breath.

“Is that it?” you question him.

“Baby, I still gotta get rid of that virginity of yours.”

“Oh.” You giggle behind your hand. “Right.” You start to strip, only taking a couple of seconds since you’re practically naked already. “What do I do now?”

Bo’s cock hardens back to life at your nude form in front of him. Your nipples are hard, attached to your perky breasts that bounce up and down right in front of his eyes. He stares lecherously, licking his lips. “Now that you got my cock all wet,” Bo rubs his length, now slick with his cum and your saliva, “I can stick it in your pussy.” You bite the inside of your cheek and nod, your eyes flicking between his face and his cock. “I know I asked before,” you begin, and Bo moves to place your hand over his cock, “but will it really fit?”

Lord, he was really starting to understand why your friends let you go alone.

“Yeah, I told you, I’ll make it fit.” He lifts you from the back of your legs and places you on top of the counter. He brings his thick fingers to your pussy, sticking a fingertip inside.

You gasp and arch your body into him, throwing your arms around his broad back. Your bare breasts brush up against his chest and he relishes in the contact. 

“That feels really good, Bo!” you cry out. He adds a second finger inside of you, pushing the digits in deeper. He can feel how wet you are and the way you clench around him so desperately. Your hips jerk into him unsteadily, chasing the pleasure his fingers bring you.

He chuckles. “It’ll feel even better when I stick my cock in you.”

Bo removes his fingers, basking in the way you whine as he pulls them out, leaving you pulsing and desperate to be around him. He lines his throbbing cock with your entrance and pushes himself in without hesitation.

“Bo!” You scream, nails digging into his back. Little gasps leave your mouth as he begins to thrust in and out of you. Your pussy grips him like a vice, and it’s difficult for him to move inside you with you so needy for him.

He shushes you, gripping your cheeks and watching as tears leave your eyes.

“It hurts,” you whine to him. Your nails grip onto him as if your life depended on it.

He shoves his face into the crevice of your neck, placing kisses upon it. “Gotta relax a bit for me, okay?” he coos into your ear. “Or it won’t feel good for you.”

“You promise?” you ask through glassy eyes.

He nods, and feels as you unclench just a tad around him. Bo is able to rut himself into you harder now, and he can’t help but be more forceful with his thrusts as it causes your breasts to bounce right in front of him.

“Look at that.” He motions towards where the two of you are connected, his cock pulsing at the way your blood and juices coat the base. “Look at how we're connected now.”

Oh wow,” you gasp in awe. “That’s kinda romantic, huh?”

Bo doesn’t respond. If you wanted to put it that way, he wouldn’t stop you. He ignores the way his heart stutters in his chest.

His hips continue to pound into you, your body bouncing along with the power of his thrusts. The whines that come out of your mouth sound so angelic, and Bo has to fight the urge to kiss you.

“I—I think I’m gonna cum,” you moan out, your head thrown back and your eyes are scrunched up in pleasure.

Bo didn’t need you to tell him that. Your pussy goes back to clenching down on him, your walls tightening around his cock, fitting themselves to the shape of him. He curses quietly into your neck. He never wanted to leave the warmth of your pussy.

“That’s it, baby,” Bo coaxes you. He moves a finger to your clit, enjoying the way you jolt at the newfound sensation as he rubs circles on the bead. “Cum around my cock.”

“Cumming!” Your voice is squeaky as your legs come up to wrap around his backside, and you finally reach your peak. Your pussy tightens around Bo even more, and he can’t help it when he cums for a second time as you squeeze every last drop out of him.

You pant heavily as you come down from your orgasm, sweat rolling down your temples despite the cold air of the station that surrounds the two of you.

Bo’s own breathing is heavy, something he’s not used to much. You squirm out from beneath him as you drop from the counter, legs still shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm. You bend down to gather your scraps of clothing, and Bo has to take all of his strength to conceal his groan as he watches his cum slowly leak out of your pussy.

“Leaving so soon?” Bo didn’t know what compelled him to say that. You were just some cute college kid passing through that was a chance to get his dick wet. Yet there was something about you that drew him to you, like a moth to a flame.

You shimmy back into your clothing, and he notices how you ignore the trail of his cum that runs down your thigh. “My friends’ll be mad at me if I take too long getting back.” You pause in your movements. “I can take the gas now, right?”

Bo’s heart drops in his stomach. He realizes quickly that no, he wasn’t going to let you take the gas. In fact, he wasn’t going to let you leave at all. He wanted you—needed you—here with him. He couldn’t let a pretty little thing like you just pass by him like that.

He glances outside quickly. The sky's already turned to a pitch black hue, and he knows there’s no streetlights on your way back to where your friends wait for you. He turns back to you as you stand awaiting his answer.

“It’s pretty dark out there, little lady.” You peek over his shoulder, and your eyes widen as you realize just how late it had gotten. “It ain’t safe for you ta’ be out walkin’ all alone. Why don’t you stay over at my place for the night?”

“B-but what about my friends?” A pout overtakes your face and you look up at Bo with puzzled eyes.

Bo smirks, holding you close to his chest and running a hand over your hair. “Don’t need ta’ worry about them, sweetheart. My brother’ll come an’ fetch ‘em.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair #house of wax x reader #house of wax smut #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher smut #slashers x reader #slashers smut

[kausstar]

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

[small-sinclair]

Kinda smutty but: Imagine the Sinclairs in a craze for you…

Vincent coming up behind you and wrapping his string arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck, kissing your skin, loving you. He whimpers lightly until you look at him. He stops and kisses your lips, holding you closer and tighter until you melt away. He spins you around and lifts you up; you weigh nothing him. He kisses until you both pull away breathless. You hold his face and rests against his forehead, hanging your arms over his shoulders as he carries you to his bed. Vincent lays you down and treats you like royalty, taking everything nice and slow, rough and tender. He loves you so much that he doesn’t know what to do sometimes besides being near you.

Lester lifting you up to sit on his tailgate so he could rest his head in your chest, hands running up and down your thighs before warping you in a warm embrace. Your hands taking his hat off so you can play with his flatten curls while his kisses linger down your jaw over your neck. He just wants you in his arms and litter you with so much kisses while mumbling “I love you” the whole time. Then he cups your cheeks and kisses you deeply and passionately, bruising your lips until they’re numb. His hands fall over your breast and massages you, whispering your name like a prayer, and he praises you like you’re his god. He’s so much in love with you that it drives him over the edge sometimes.

Bo having a bad day and just sees you coming to the shop with a jug of sweet peach ice tea. Him just meeting you in front of the shop to lift you up by your legs and smash his lips against yours. He wants you more and more, deeper and deeper the pit in his chest grows for you. He smiled against your lips and sits you on the front counter, kissing your neck, nipping at your skin, repeating “mine; all mine” until he’s so drunk off your scent he can’t stop staring at you, and his hands are so focused on rubbing your arms, thighs, neck. His lost eyes closing as he leans into your hands, kissing the palms and starts praising you for every little thing you do. “Le’me worship you, darlin’,” he’ll drawl, his southern voice so deep and heavy as he kisses you again. “Need you, sweetheart. Need ya bad.” And he lifts you up again only to carry you to a tailgate in the shop, lowering you down, kissing and marking you all over because he wants more and more and more of you. Bo loves you so much that he would burn for you, kill for you, die for you, hunt for you— everything he does, he’ll do it for you until you tell him to stop.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax (2005) #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax fanfic #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #house of wax headcanons #bo sinclair headcanons #lester sinclair headcanons #vincent sinclair headcanon #house of wax x reader #house of wax smut #vincent sinclair smut #bo sinclair smut #lester sinclair smut #slasher #slasher headcanons #slasher smut

[sunkendreams]

Can I ask for a Vincent Sinclair smut PLZZZ🛐🛐 (I love him sm)

redamancy.

➾ pairing ; vincent sinclair x fem!reader.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 4.4K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), fingering (f!receiving), dry humping, p in v sex (unprotected), multiple positions, breast-play, biting, hair-pulling, making out, scratching, rough sex, slight breeding kink, vincent is pretty obsessive/possessive, darker vincent, choking

author’s note: I haven’t written for vincent in a hot minute but boy, this was a perfect way to get back into it! I plan on writing another bo/reader/vincent thing at some point and more bo/reader. Trying to ease myself back into all of this! Thank you all so much for your love and support!

Hot pearls of pale wax trickled from the numerous candles littered throughout the basement, basked within an orange glow. It only served to add to the warmth of the underbelly of the House of Wax, temperatures maintained to prevent any form of melting. Vincent had learned to temper it all over time — control the heat, master the atmosphere.

A silver scalpel idly shaped a column of wax, something that would soon join the displays up above. His movements were methodical, purposeful — he was a perfectionist. Every stroke had to mean something, appear flawless and without any imperfections.

He’d been making up for imperfections all his life — even still, Vincent was continuing to work himself ragged, to further his mother’s work. Perhaps, someday, it would make him more worthy in her eyes.

Footsteps reverberated throughout his underground mausoleum of wax, and he knew that it was you. Bo rarely, if ever, came downstairs, and his gait was often far more purposeful and aggressive than yours could ever be. He was hunched over his desk, guiding the flickering flame toward the wax, letting it melt and bend.

Vincent carefully began to mold the wax, shape it to whatever he pleased. It was a statuette, meant to resemble that of a serpent. Using the edge of the scalpel, he quickly carved in intricate designs as the surface began to cool, brushing off any excess with the pad of his thumb.

You quietly crept through the basement, making your way toward Vincent’s coiled frame, perched within his rickety chair. You always enjoyed watching him work — his artistic talent was mesmerizing to behold. With a light shrug, you tugged your robe around you, feet absorbing the warmth from the concrete floor.

It was common for him to wake up sometime in the night, leaving the space beside you to work. Sometimes, it was the only thing that could quell the raging thoughts inside of him, or the one activity that took his mind off of everything. Vincent could think of other activities to distract himself, but you needed to agree to it, too.

The cold dusk of Louisiana couldn’t reach either of you — not here, not in the warmth of the basement. It was akin to a sanctuary for you, this wax cathedral built to destroy and to create anew. There was something so fascinating about this place, something hauntingly beautiful and macabre all rolled into one.

“Hey,” You murmured, lazily rubbing at the back of your neck. His shirt clumsily hung from your frame, the robe haphazardly tossed over the garment. Vincent regarded you with a tender look in his eye, countenance shrouded by that familiar waxy veil. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Vincent shook his head, dark tresses idly brushing across the back of the woolen sweater he wore. You were often amazed at his heat tolerance, wearing thicker garments in a sweltering basement. He turned slightly within his seat, an open invitation for you to come and inspect his work.

There was a point in time where he had little desire for you to see any of his projects, but that sentiment had drastically changed. Vincent valued your admiration above all else. He turned the partially-finished serpent over, noticing your look of recognition and delight.

“That’s a basilisk, isn’t it? It’s beautiful so far.” You gently traced your index finger along some of the scales Vincent had carved into the surface. The initial grogginess of slumber was beginning to wear off as you stood at his side, gaze flickering toward the assortment of art tools, wax, and glowing candles.

“It’s for you.” Vincent’s hands moved sluggishly as he signed, feeling your fingertips grace his shoulder, nails idly raking across his back. He shivered, enjoying the light sensation of your touch, knowing that it was bound to contort and twist into a different sort of feeling.

Your lips curled into a smitten smile, teeth absentmindedly toying with your lower lip. “For me? Are you sure?” It belonged in the House of Wax, amongst all of his other sculptures and pieces of art. However, you weren’t about to stop him from his sentimental gesture. You loved everything he’d made for you.

With a brief nod, Vincent placed the statuette back down onto the debris-laden desk, swiping at a fine layer of wax flecks with his hand. Along the mantle situated above his workbench, you noticed a weathered photograph, partially obscured by a series of half-destroyed wax masks that he’d worn at one point or another.

Admittedly, you hadn’t seen the picture before — and you had memorized every square inch of this place by now. “Hey,” You motioned toward it, pointing at the obstructed photograph with visible intrigue. “What’s that?” You inquired, head cocking to one side.

Vincent’s jaw tightened, posture becoming somewhat stiff and rigid as he deliberately removed the picture from behind the masks. He’d forgotten all about it until you pointed it out — a sliver of him wondered why he’d even kept it at all. He cradled the tattered, dusty photograph within one hand, brows furrowing together.

It was Trudy Sinclair, forever immortalized within one still image, holding a very young Vincent, whose countenance was indistinguishable — marred and torn from his conjoined state with Bo. Her expression was arguably the kindest it had ever been, gazing down upon the near-infant Vincent with a look of fondness.

Even through the faded granules of color, you were able to make out the affection she held for him. Your heart clenched within your chest, primarily out of empathy for Vincent himself. Despite all his talent and efforts to regain some favor in his mother’s eyes, part of her would always see him as some disfigured freak, doomed to be trapped behind that wax mask.

Wordlessly, Vincent offered you the photograph, letting you inspect it for yourself. You treated the object like a priceless relic, gently turning it over within your hands. It pained you to know the fate that had inevitably befallen the Sinclairs — locked within a household filled with vitriol and parents whose passions often overrode any love they might’ve had for their children.

“This is Trudy, isn’t it?” You uttered, watching as Vincent’s head bobbed up and down in a stoic nod. Bo had received the short end of the stick when it came to Trudy’s love, but things were far from perfect with Vincent, too. “I’m sorry, Vincent.” Your voice barely drifted above a whisper, lips curling into a sympathetic frown.

His shoulders sagged in a gentle shrug, taking the photograph from you before placing it behind a cluster of half-burnt candles. “Nothing to be sorry for. You can’t change the past.” Vincent signed, concentration turning to you, instead.

He’d spent most of his life wishing that he could change his tumultuous childhood — he’d stopped long ago. He and his brothers would always be chained to Trudy, and there would always be a certain level of loyalty to her, even in death.

“I understand, Vincent.” With a soft murmur, you gently rubbed at the back of your neck, trailing your fingers across his spine. “Come back to bed with me?” You asked, head canting to one side. Vincent reached for your wrist, gingerly cradling it between his fingers, stroking along your forearm.

He wasn’t tired, but Vincent didn’t want to leave you alone, either. He moved up from his chair, lean musculature towering above you as he kept hold of your wrist, fingers drifting to twine around your hand. The two of you retreated into the alcove that served as his bedroom, if one could call it that.

The mattress was littered in blankets, indents visible from where the two of you slept. He’d fixed it up with doors that folded shut, similar to that of a closet. You settled back down, Vincent right beside you as he tugged you close, letting you lounge against his chest.

You sat up just a little bit, enough to see his masked countenance. “Could I ask you something?” Your voice was nothing more than a tender whisper, and now that you were awake, a string of thoughts began to nag at the back of your head. Pillowtalk with Vincent often became very emotionally-charged.

“Anything.” Vincent nodded as his hands moved, propping himself up enough to look at you, too. He had told you about his life some time ago — the intricate details and his own sentiments on the matter were left out and simply implied. You were a precocious and inquisitive individual, but above all, you were empathetic.

“This,” With a feather-light caress, you traced your finger along the cheekbone of his mask. “Why do you still wear it around me?” Your inquiry was innocuous, spoken out of genuine concern instead of malice or confusion. Vincent had shown you his face once before — and it never bothered you. It wouldn’t bother you.

Vincent’s throat became tight, jaw unusually tense as he attempted to muster up a feasible answer. It was an anchor for him — one way to feel less like a monster and a freak. “Habit,” He signed, but he knew better than to give you a false response. “I don’t want you to feel guilty or pity me.”

Your brows furrowed together, visage contorting with a look of mild confusion. “What do you mean, Vince?” You wondered if you’d done something wrong, stomach swelling with a wave of anxiety, but he seemed to catch this. He pressed a finger against your lips before he began to sign in a flurry of animated hands.

“I don’t want you to pity me for how I look. I’ve spent my entire life being looked at like a freak — like something fragile, something to feel sorry for.” Vincent finished with finality to it, hoping that you would understand why he continued to wear the mask. He knew that you still loved him, regardless of how he appeared.

“No, no,” You uttered, sitting up enough to stare at him, hands gently splayed across his taut chest. “When I saw your face, that night in the kitchen — the only thing that I saw was a survivor.” His eye sparkled whenever you spoke, hanging upon your every word. “You’re resilient and you’re talented, Vincent. You’ve never been a freak.”

It was the first time in his life that someone labeled him as a survivor — he hadn’t thought of it like that.

Most of his life had been about preservation — keeping the Sinclair name alive, to continue his mother’s dream, keeping Bo and Lester safe. Vincent hadn’t considered that his face was also a sign of resilience, of an endurance that even he wasn’t fully aware of.

You felt his hand reach for you, cupping your jaw with calloused, roughened digits, the practiced hands of an artist. His touch was filled with both adoration and a dark yearning, thumb sweeping over your lower lip. “You mean everything to me.” He signed, and you knew that he meant it wholeheartedly.

“You mean everything to me, too.” You murmured, careening into the warmth of his embrace, lips pursing to kiss the pad of his thumb. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.” A breathy, passionate sigh left you when he coaxed you closer, slotted against his musculature.

His hawkish eye picked you apart from where you sat, the distance slim between the two of you. You were vaguely aware of his obsession with you, disguised as protectiveness and adoration — Vincent often made it explicitly clear that you belonged to him, drew a line in the sand with Bo over and over again.

As you lavished him in kind, tenderhearted words, Vincent’s innate possessiveness over you seemed to flare to life, malignant and very much alive. You were tethered to him until the end of time — a pretty, iron-wrought cage, inescapable — and admittedly, you didn’t want to be free from it at all. You stopped thinking that way a long time ago.

Vincent exhaled, dragging his hand across the slender expanse of your neck, digits exploring the canvas that was your flesh — all belonging to him. “You’re mine.” He signed, staking his claim for the hundredth time. Even through signing alone, his nature was desirous and rapacious.

Long before he’d entered this relationship with you, he was very indifferent towards you. It stemmed from insecurities, from rage, and from confusion — girls were always Bo’s forte and never his. Having you, something to covet, something to protect and to keep, Vincent was always worried that he’d lose it.

You nodded, breath hitching within your throat when he traced the pad of his thumb across your pulse point. Your heartbeat had climbed to erratic, excitable heights, mouth somewhat dry as he applied pressure underneath either side of your jaw.

“I’m yours.” Parasitic — you leached from him, and it always took your loneliness away. You used to hate him for taking away your friends, but it almost felt like a wandering dream that didn’t feel real. Ambrose was where you were meant to be — meant to be with Vincent. You empathized with him, surrounding him with your affection and comfort.

A rugged huff emerged from the depths of his throat, feeling you climb closer, gaze glazed-over with desire. Wordlessly, Vincent removed his mask, placing the waxy veil aside as his mouth clamored for yours. The kiss was blistering, full of a rather oppressive possession and greed — he felt entitled to you, in some depraved sense.

Reciprocation made him giddy as your lips eagerly pressed against his, responding with a desperation that nearly bordered his own. Vincent squeezed your jaw, other hand relocating to slip underneath the baggy shirt you wore, brazenly groping at your breasts.

Your fingers scraped through his hair, digging into the base of his skull as he coaxed you down against the mattress. Vincent crawled on top of you, mouth briefly disconnecting from yours before he crashed back into you, parting your legs with his knee.

A low, raspy grunt escaped him when your lips continued their relentless assault, mouth parting to allow for a sloppy kiss. He was needy, desperate to feel you as he rucked your shirt up with one hand, fingertips tracing across the plane of your stomach. Goosebumps coalesced along your spine, arousal pooling between your thighs.

Heat blistered between the both of you, an amalgamation of desire, want, and the emotion of your charged conversation moments prior. Vincent savored it all — it still didn’t feel real sometimes, being physical with you. Some time ago, he felt unworthy, too horrid and too scarred, but you changed everything.

You changed the way he touched you — no longer hesitant or wrought with deliberation. He felt like a god, capable of conquering anything — even you. Instead, each touch was charged with lust, and the sensation was beyond mutual as you slipped a hand underneath his sweater.

Vincent was made of taut, sinewy muscle, littered in plenty of scars. His broad shoulders tensed when your hand pressed into the nape of his neck, toying with the collar of his sweater. In one fluid motion, he lifted it up and over his head, discarding it toward the foot of the bed.

He lifted two digits toward his lips, pressing them upon his tongue as he coated them in saliva. Vincent’s eye glistened with a ravenous sheen, fingers drifting toward the warmth between your legs. He brusquely shoved your panties aside, dragging those fingers along your slit, peppering your jaw in kisses.

“Vincent,” You moaned, feeling him cage you against him, arm bracketing you in, keeping you for himself. It was explosive — everything felt hot, as if the both of you were running out of time. “Touch me.” Your voice was high-pitched with a sense of urgency.

Your hips jolted forward, chasing after the friction his digits provided, feeling his mouth press hot kisses against your sternum. He branded you with his embrace, hoping to make it permanent — a mark, something that bound you to him. His lips sought to take one of your pert nipples into his mouth, suckling on the sensitive bud.

At last, he gave into your breathy demands, slotting his thumb against your clit as his middle fingers explored your cunt. An elated sigh escaped you, knees squeezing at his waist, hands splayed across his shoulders. He looked immaculate beneath orange candlelight — a deity of wax, perfection immortalized.

A ripple of bliss consumed you, body keening and arching into Vincent’s touch. His fingers lightly traced your core before dipping inward, forcing his way inside of you, feeling your cunt clench pathetically around his practiced digits. He lavished your breasts in a flurry of attention, throat echoing with a hoarse grunt.

Scars were crisscrossing all over his body, remnants of his victims that left their mark. Bullets, stab wounds, the diagonal, uneven slashes of knives and sharp objects. His skin served as a canvas for chaos, and you traced your fingertips over a livid mark on his chest.

Vincent shuddered, rutting his fingers inside of you before withdrawing halfway, finding a steady rhythm to piston in and out of your aching heat. He kissed his way back to your mouth, lips crashing into one another as he pressed against you. You could feel his erection snug along your thigh, prompting you to squirm.

You needed him terribly, unable to vocalize that want unless it was through a mess of needy moans. With a gentle shove, your lips tangled with his, tugging on his mane of dark tresses. Vincent huffed, digits curling into your cunt, eliciting a simpering cry from you.

He watched you through a lustful stare, glazed-over with rapture, drunk with desire. Vincent kissed at your throat, teeth teasing your flesh, feeling you roll your hips into the sensation of his hand. “Need you inside of me,” Your voice emerged as a hungry groan, clawing at the muscle of his shoulder. “Please, Vincent.”

Admittedly, he hadn’t seen you quite like this before — tangled up within your own need, aching for him in ways you hadn’t felt before. Vincent was delighted to oblige you, feeding off of your desire like a leech.

“How?” Vincent signed, and that singular word seemed to set off some chain reaction. Your stomach sloshed with anticipation as you rolled over onto your abdomen, able to hear the audible hitch in his throat, a raspy grunt tearing past his lips.

Vincent slipped his fingers from your cunt, digits coated in a thin sheen of your arousal. He grabbed at your hips, chest reverberating with a low rumble as he tugged you back against him. The metallic rattling of his belt sent shivers down your spine, able to feel the heat of his cock press against your slit.

“Vincent,” You moaned, and that was enough to get his blood pumping, accompanied by a surge of adrenaline as he let the head of his length slide through your slick a time or two. A soft yelp tore past your lips when he pushed himself inside of you, hunched over you, flesh feverishly warm.

A hand gently held the back of your neck, thumb grazing over the slender muscle of your jugular. His face was buried near your shoulder, tresses sweeping across your exposed back, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He filled you in a way that you never thought possible, causing you to whimper.

With a sharp thrust, Vincent began to invade your cunt, somewhere between tender and rough. He was always sporadic and unsure when it came to pace, but you thoroughly enjoyed the unpredictability. His cock lewdly slapped into your cunt, followed by the sound of his ragged breathing.

Wax-laden palms skirted across your body, one hand grappling at your hips while the other gathered at the nape of your neck. You huffed, face partially pressed into the mattress, body contorting and submitting to him as you had many times before.

You were perfect — his paramour, his muse.

A twisted desire began to wash over him like a tidal wave, borderline insidious as he rutted into you. Vincent’s love might’ve been perceived as sweet on the surface, yet it often veered off into a very vitriolic obsession. He wanted you all to himself, as much as humanly possible.

Vincent’s grunts resonated just beside your ear, full of a lustful fervor. Every inch of him was consumed by your cunt, tight around him as he continued to fuck you. It was hot and messy, his pace sometimes scattered and erratic, as if he didn’t know what rhythm to adopt.

He brought you back against him, caging your back to his chest as he rocked onto his knees. Taut, muscled biceps locked around you as he pistoned into you, cock reaching new depths until he couldn’t go any further. Vincent’s mouth clamored to your neck, kissing and biting wherever he pleased as he kept you snug against him.

“V—Vincent, shit,” You stammered, the newfound position taking you by complete surprise. A sensation of sheer want flooded through you, coupled with overwhelming arousal. He filled you completely, flesh dewy with a layer of perspiration, black strands stuck to his temples from exertion. “Please cum in me.”

Another hoarse, throaty grunt ripped through him, hands relocating as one palm groped at your soft, pliant breasts. The other had a mind of its own, snaking to the cleft between your thighs as he toyed with your clit. Euphoria gripped you then and there, causing you to squirm and writhe with pleasure.

Again, Vincent locked you in against his chest, huffing into your ear, biting at your jaw as he filled you up. Part of him wanted to devour you, but the added heat and friction, the swiftness of the moment was enough to make him exert all force.

If he could, he would’ve gladly drowned himself in you, let himself float away within your very presence. Even covered in a veil of sweat, your scent was saccharine, accompanied by his own musk from the cling of his clothing.

Vincent felt you reach for his hand, digits curling around his wrist as he played with your clit, hoping to get you to your peak, right alongside him. His palm wandered from the plump flesh of your chest toward your throat, wrapping around until he applied pressure along your windpipe.

Within the stifling warmth of the basement, the only sounds that reverberated throughout were your moans and his occasional grunt. Vincent’s breathing was heavy, chest heaving against your back. You moved with him as best as you could, nails digging crescents into the taut tendons of his forearm.

Arousal sat heavy within the pit of your stomach, thick and viscous. Vincent was relentless and unyielding, continuing to pound away at your cunt, gently squeezing underneath your jaw. The combined pleasure that assaulted your clit and throat were preparing to send you cascading over the edge.

“M’close,” You huffed, feeling his lips meet the dip between your neck and shoulder, face buried there as he rutted into you. Everything felt incendiary, as if you’d been set ablaze, only to sink further into the fire. He touched you as if you were molded from obsidian, covetous and desperate for you. “Vincent!”

He never slowed, still pounding away at you, cock unable to go any further before he pulled out just a little bit, only to shove himself back in. A sheen of perspiration glistened across his features, forehead pushing into your shoulder, still clutching at your throat.

You belonged to him — you always would. There was no one else for you, only him.

Vincent huffed, teeth sinking into your flesh until he slammed into you one last time, painting your insides with hot, virile ropes of his seed. He continued to rub circles around your clit, dragging you toward your peak. Your cunt clenched around him, eliciting a throaty groan from him as you came.

A myriad of moans and sighs escaped you, shivers rolling down your spine as your thighs twitched, ecstasy flooding throughout your body. Vincent soothed any bites over with kisses, staying in you for a moment longer until he reclined against the mattress, taking you with him.

You were on top of him, layered in sweat and his cum, palms spread across his chest. Vincent stared at you with complete and utter devotion, gently tucking away any strands of hair that were stuck to your temples.

“You’re perfect,” Vincent signed, tucking his thumb and forefinger beneath your chin. The sienna glow of waning candlelight flickered throughout your shared space, basking you in such an atmospheric light. “You look perfect like this.”

There was a darker undertone to his sweet words — and to him, you did look divine this way, covered in his seed, wracked with want for him. Vincent cared very little for moving in that moment, content to stay with you in the oppressive heat of the basement.

With a soft caress, your fingertips swept across the scarred part of his jaw, mouth clamoring for him in another kiss. He didn’t protest, hand slipping toward the base of your skull, coaxing you closer to him.

“I love you,” You murmured, watching the way his pupil dilated with understanding. “M’tired.” You sank down into the mattress, still staggeringly hot with no sign of changing, either.

Visibly, you were spent, exhilaration and your post-orgasm haze beginning to dissipate into exhaustion. You smiled, laying down at his side instead, head curled toward the broad expanse of his shoulder. He locked an arm around you, caging you in, nowhere else to go — it was where you belonged.

There was nowhere you could go where he wouldn’t follow.

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you #house of wax smut #house of wax fanfic #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #sunkendreams masterlist

[boringbxtch]

Face Sitting/Riding with Vincent

- AFAB Reader- female anatomy described

By clicking read more you acknowledge you will be reading smut albeit a short imagine, so 18+

Sat awkwardly beside Vincent you slowly lift your leg over his shoulders to straddle his neck, not quite ready to settle in yet. Looking down and seeing your unmasked man smiling up at you hinting for you to continue, taking a deep breath and scooting upwards but still remaining on your knees too far away from his face.

His hands guide you down so you are within reaching distance, a tongue licks across your clit catching you by surprise you jumping a little. That tongue comes back licking faster with more ferocity, looking down to see the bridge of his nose in between your lips and his one good eye looking right at your pleasure filled face.

Falling forwards slightly you angle yourself to put the focus on your clit sending a spark up your spine. He brings his hands between your thighs spreading your lips apart exposing you even further. The cold air sending shivers up your spine before he smothers it with his warm mouth back on the part you need him most. His grip is getting tighter on your thighs due to the shakiness of them but he doesn’t let up if anything he seems to gain more confidence to get messy with it.

With one hand to the wall and another in his hair you grind down feeling the beginning of your mounting orgasm. Moaning out his name and letting him know you’re about to cum he remains lapping at your clit, he lets out a groan that you feel setting you over the edge and cumming while grinding on his face to ride out your high.

#house of wax #house of wax imagine #house of wax x reader #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair imagine #vincent sinclair x reader #Vincent Sinclair smut #house of wax smut #slasher smut

[im-his-druidess]

I swear you speak directly to my brain sometimes 😩👌

(I'll go with Normal-Wise just because 😉)

GIF by stay-outta-my-blood-circle

Bo would definitely let you loose around Ambrose when he's feeling particularly pent up or he's feeling "playful". Or if there hasn't been any unfortunate soul wandering into town recently. Actually, Bo doesn't really need a concrete reason sometimes.

But he'll let you run around town, taunting you with your freedom the entire time. Of course, you don't realize that he has Lester and Vincent reluctantly stationed nearby just in case you do manage to slip your way away from him.

Which you never do.

He will let you run and scamper around the town to the best of your limited abilities, hunting you around and utterly delighting in how creative you get with your hiding spots and how you dodge him, before he gets too worked up and decides he's done playing or you have worn yourself ragged and allow yourself to get caught.

He would either drag you down to his garage or, most of the time, just fuck you right there in the street. Making you scream his name as he forces the swollen head of his thick cock into your tight hole, cooing gently into your ear as he fucks you deep and hard, and one of his hands fisted in your hair to wrench your head back so he can hear you wail for him better.

Bo will bite all over your throat and shoulder, snarling into the sensitive skin, before flipping you over to litter your breasts with the same possessive marks, and then he's kissing you as he brackets his free arm by your head to further cage you in. His hips continue to snap against yours in a brutal pace, his tongue fucking your mouth just as greedily as his cock takes possession of your throbbing pussy, and he smiles against your lips and praises you when he forces you to come. When he comes he makes sure to comes as deep inside you as possible.

Afterwards, he will lay limp against you as he catches his breath, and he will keep his cock firmly inside you as he pants and nuzzles against your mauled throat. Squeezing against your still trembling thigh as he lets it rest against his still twitching hip as he lazily thrusts against you.

"Fuck, darlin, that was fun. Great way to take the edge off, huh?" he purrs into your ear like a lover, nipping at the shell with too sharp teeth, and you shiver as you felt him twitch inside your sensitive walls.

"How 'bout a second round?"

#Bo Sinclair #Bo Sinclair x Reader #Bo Sinclair smut #Bo Sinclair headcanons #House of Wax #House of Wax smut #House of Wax x Reader #House of Wax headcanons #Brian Van Holt #Slasher smut #Slasher x Reader #Slasher headcanons #slashers #Slashers x Reader #slasher fandom #house of wax 2005 #Beauregard Sinclair #Beauregard Sinclair x Reader #the cryptid answers

[swagatron9]

Face Sitting With A Fem!S/O

Pairings: Bo Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire, Art The Clown.

Bo Sinclair:

When Bo suggested, more like commanded, you to sit on his face, you were shy at first, but nevertheless, Bo was excited. You'd be hovering over him, hesitant to put your weight down, and then Bo would pull you down by your thighs. At first, he would kiss your lips before spreading them and kissing your clit. He'd blow cool air against you, causing you to jolt up and attempt to pull away, but with Bo holding you down, you couldn't get very far. The entire time, Bo would be teasing you until you gave in and up your face down, then the show would be on. Bo would be practically making out with your pussy, tongue flicking erratically as he lapped up your juices. Your hips would move against his face, his nose nudging your clit every time you moved forward. As your climax grew closer, you would lean back and rest your hands on his legs as you fucked yourself against his mouth and especially his nose.

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms would come to you excited to tell you about this dream that he had; the last thing you expected was for him to tell you in full detail about the wet dream he had about you riding his face. Now, Brahms is a curious man, he wants to try new things, and there was nothing he wanted more desperately than for you to place yourself right over his face. Don't let this fool you, though he still wants you to be in control. He wants to be able to get a taste of you because you let him. But of course, Brahms needs attention almost 24/7, so after a while, best believe that he wants something as well. You guys end up in a 69 position so that Brahms can get a little bit of pleasure as well. He'd end up face fucking you, his tongue movement only increasing in speed and pressure at hearing you gag on his cock.

Art The Clown:

Art The Clown would be more than happy for you to sit on his face. He doesn't care how much you weigh; he will accept you with open arms and an open mouth. Now, I'm not sure how his nose will feel being poked into you, especially depending on which way you're facing. Art would lap you up, his head moving side to side if he's given the room to do so. His fingers would be spreading you open in order to feel all of you. While all this is happening, he would be uncontrollably humping the air, imagining that you're on top of his dick. 10/10 times he would end up cumming in his pants at just this alone, but don't worry he still has more to cum.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair smut #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax x reader #house of wax smut #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire smut #the boy #the boy 2016 #art the clown #art the clown x reader #art the clown smut #terrifier #terrifier 2

[die-die-mydarling-xx]

Run Rabbit

Pairing: Vincent Sinclair x GN!Reader

NSFW

Themes: Predator/prey, some fear play, some dom/sub

I probably should have let this sit a bit longer so I could proof-read/edit, but I was too excited to post it! Feel free to comment any advice/mistakes and I will probably edit at a later date.

Your heart raced as you ran through the rooms of the house of wax, dodging the wax figures and various other decorations as you went. You could hear the heavy footfalls of your pursuer, but they seemed to be getting fainter behind you. Out of breath, you ducked behind the old piano in the next room you turned into, feeling safe enough to rest for a few moments as the footsteps that followed you were barely audible. You tried to catch your breath as you crouched in the shadows. Despite being mostly hidden, it was hard to will yourself to stay there; the adrenaline flooding your veins made you want to continue running. You realized suddenly that you could no longer hear the movements of your pursuer. Holding your breath, you carefully listened for any indication of his whereabouts. The sudden, sharp rap of a boot on the wooden floor almost made you cry out. The sound had come from just beyond the doorway to the adjacent room. You wasted no time in scrambling to your feet and out from behind the piano, and just in time because as you did so the figure of a tall man emerged from the doorway. Your heart leapt into your throat as he lunged for you, just barely missing you. You could feel the tips of his fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt. 

You continued running, and the steady sound of heavy footsteps resumed behind you. There was something about the way he chased you, never quite running, but keeping a swift, certain pace. Like he knew he wouldn’t have to work too hard to catch you. The thought sent something of a jolt through you, equal parts fear and excitement. You knew you wouldn’t be able to run for much longer, but you felt a little thrill at the thought of the chase finally ending. 

Seeing the door to the basement ahead of you, you made a beeline for it. It opened easily, and the hot air from the workshop below washed over you. You quickly stepped onto the stairs and closed the door behind you. It wouldn’t slow him down much, but you were still committed to prolonging the pursuit even that little bit. Even as you reached the bottom of the stairs, you could hear those confident footfalls starting down after you. Running through the basement, the heat from the fires caused sweat to run down your back, and you could feel yourself beginning to slow. Faster than you expected, you reached a dead end. You quickly turned to run back the way you’d come. He was already there, swiftly moving in to corner you. You tried to duck under his outstretched arms, but this time he was expecting the move and grabbed hold of you. You barely had time to cry out before you were held firmly to his chest, one hand moving to cover your mouth. 

You squirmed in his grasp, a futile attempt to free yourself from the tight hold he had on you. Your heart pounded in your chest as he tightened his grip on you slightly. A shiver went down your spine as you felt his hot breath on your ear, and you grasped his wrist as you again tried to twist your way out of his arms. With a low grunt, he twisted you around and slammed you down onto a nearby work table. The surprise of the impact gave him a moment to pull two wicked-looking daggers from a pocket, holding them up for a second so they flashed in the dancing firelight. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the sharp blades, although you knew he wouldn’t hurt you with them. You felt your heart skip a beat as he slammed them into the table on either side of you. It took you a moment to realize you were unscathed, as you heard the material of your shirt rip as the blades pierced it. Instinctively, you reached down to insure that you were unhurt. A large hand stopped you, quickly pushing your hands over your head and holding them there by your wrists. A soft gasp left you at the move. 

Vincent was usually so gentle during your intimate moments, often checking in with you and letting you take the lead on many things. You loved that side of him, seeing how he looked at you so tenderly, and how he touched you like he was worried you’d break under his hands. But there was a few times you’d seen him going after victims, and it put some thoughts in your head . . . Seeing how he was so unrestrained, and how easily he could throw most of them around. When you first brought the idea up to him, he’d been a little hesitant. He didn’t want to treat you like he would one of his victims, and he was worried about being too rough with you. But after you’d spent some time easing him into it, you could tell he began to really get into it as well. 

It was almost a complete shift in his personality, the way he would manhandle you during these moments. The ease with which he held you down only served to amplify the desire you felt burning in your stomach. With his free hand, he made quick work of your pants, throwing them to the floor. He took a few moments to take in your appearance, flushed from both exertion and excitement, and now partially nude on the table before him. He tilted his head as he regarded you, and you squirmed slightly under the scrutiny of his gaze. 

Unzipping his own pants, he pulled out his sizable cock, already hard and dripping pre-cum from the tip. It was clear the chase had excited him as much as it had you. A surprised yelp left you as Vincent grabbed your thighs and pulled you down the table towards him, lining his cock up with your entrance. Usually he would take the time to prepare you, and make sure you were ready to take him, but it was clear he wasn’t going to do that this time around. You let out a moan as he roughly pushed himself into you, feeling yourself stretch around his girth. It burned a little, but the mild pain only added to the pleasure you felt as he entered you. He wasted no time in thrusting into you, setting a fast pace that had his hips snapping against you. As you felt each stroke hit deep inside you, he reached up to hold your hands above your head again. 

You loved the feeling of him holding you down or against him as he fucked you. The feeling of being so helpless underneath him made your knees go weak, and you could tell over time that he’d grown to love showing off his strength with you. You let out a choked moan as he hit a spot inside you that made you see stars, and he made a noise like a growl as he roughly fucked into you. You arched your back up into him as he hit that spot consistently, unable to hold back on whimpers and groans of pleasure. The way he just held you there, thrusting into you so roughly . . . like you were just a toy he was using for his own pleasure. You must have clenched around him at the thought, because a second later he groaned into your neck. You could feel his thrusts becoming sloppy, but he kept up the same hard pace as you felt his cock twitch inside you. Suddenly, he buried himself to the hilt inside you. You could feel the warm spurt inside you as he came, and the feeling sent you over the edge with a cry. He thrust into you a few more times, but they were gentler, almost lazy as he spilled the rest of his cum inside you. 

A few seconds later, he released your wrists. You could feel the ache where he’d been holding them, and you knew you’d most likely have bruises later. He moved his hands to gently cup your face, looking into your eyes with a slight worry. You smiled at him to let him know he hadn’t hurt you too badly, still feeling blissed out in the aftermath of your climax. You pulled him in for a kiss, and you could feel his relieved smile against your lips. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up . . . and I reckon I’m gonna need a new shirt.”

#house of wax #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair imagine #house of wax imagine #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair x you #slashers x reader #slashers #vincent sinclair fanfiction #Vincent Sinclair nsft #vincent sinclair smut #house of wax smut #house of wax nsft

[spookychick78]

Bo Sinclair One Shot

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI, Rough sex, Breeding, Slight CNC, language

It does get a lil fluffy at the end

Word Count: 2,115

You could feel him watching you from the doorway, arms crossed with that smug look on his face. He didn't believe for a second you were actually going to leave. You wouldn't. Then again, watching you stuff that backpack with such determination wasn't at all supporting his initial thought process. He let his gaze dip to try and meet yours, but you refused. Instead of giving him what you knew he wanted, you stayed completely focused on shoving everything you could fit in that bag. He let out laugh in disbelief and rolled his eyes.

"You gotta be kiddin' me," he muttered, "you're serious?"

"Yep," you said shortly as you struggled with the zipper.

"You think you can leave me?" He asked with that grin he wore when he was close to losing his temper.

"Yeah, I do," you said as you threw the bag over your shoulder and turned towards him.

He was deadly quiet as you walked up to him, glaring at you from underneath those dark brows of his. You went to push past him, but he wouldn't budge. You let out an aggravated sigh before you looked up at him.

"Come on, Bo. Don't make this harder than it has to be," you said as calmly as you could manage.

He let out that humorless laugh again as he looked you up and down, contemplating, "No."

"What do you mean no?"

He said nothing in response, he just kept glaring. You shook your head at him and forced your way past, though he didn't make it easy. You marched to the front door and flung it open only to slam it shut behind you. You knew better than to even try and take the truck, that would be asking for him to come and find you. You barely made it onto the driveway when sure enough, the door opened once more.

"You just gonna walk, huh? Where the hell are you gonna go?" He yelled after you.

"I'll figure it out," you yelled back, stubbornly.

You didn't quite like the silence that followed. Bo wasn't one to simply let things go. You quickened your pace when you heard his boots on the gravel behind you. Just before you could start running, he grabbed your arm.

"You're not leavin' me, (Y/n)," he said as he forced you to turn around.

"Let go of me, Bo," you said through gritted teeth as you tried to tug your arm out of his tight grip.

That only made him pull you forward harder. You slammed against him and immediately tried to push yourself off of him. You managed to get your arm free, but then he grabbed you by the sides of your shoulders and began to walk you forward.

"What the hell are you doing?" You said as you tried to keep your feet from moving, but the gravel gave you nothing to keep yourself grounded.

"I told you," he said through gritted teeth before he slammed your back against a tree, "you ain't leavin'."

Before you could protest he quickly grabbed you by your jaw and silenced you with a kiss. You pushed him off and went to slap him, but he caught your hand in his. He smiled, enjoying your attempt at fighting back. He looked down at your flared nostrils and damn near hateful expression, amused. You could see the idea forming behind his eyes. No, not this time, you thought to yourself. You wouldn't give in like he always seemed to make you do. It was that damn smile of his, every time, the way he got off on how angry you were and the way his eyes seemed to undress you in the most delicious way. You wanted to hate him for it, but hating Bo wasn't easy. It should have been, he was a stubborn, hot headed son of a bitch, but he loved you. You knew that, as toxic as it was.

It was like he had read your mind, sensed the slight hesitation being pinned by him had brought on. His eyes stayed with yours as he brought your fingers to his mouth. He kissed your finger tips as soft as he could manage and slowly moved down to your palm.

"Bo, what are you doing," you whispered as you tried to ignore the desire that was building between your legs.

His eyes seemed darker now, they always got like that when he was hungry for you and it never failed to make you weak for him. You felt his teeth graze over your skin and the sensation of his hot breath falling into your palm as he let out a chuckle at your question.

"Whatever I want," he said in an almost threatening tone.

Before you could protest any further he flipped you around so your cheek was pressed against the bark of the tree and your back to him. You felt his hand push it's way down the front of your pants while his lips left sloppy, hot kisses on the sweat drenched skin of your neck. It didn't take long for his fingers to find your weak spot. You didn't have to look at him to know that self satisfied smirk had appeared when he felt how wet you were for him. You silently cursed yourself when a whine escaped your lips in response to the sensation of his fingers twirling little circles around your clit.

"I hate you, you know that," you said through gritted teeth as you pressed harder into his touch.

"Really?" He said, his voice husky and breath warm in your ear, "I couldn't tell."

Another moan escaped you when he slipped one of his digits inside. Your fist clenched and pressed against the bark of the tree to keep steady as he pushed further into you. You needed more, but you refused to beg. You knew it would only fuel his already overblown ego further. He knew exactly what you wanted already, no matter what you'd said before.

"Want me to stop?" He breathed, that smirk glued to his face.

He knew you like the back of his hand, knew exactly what moves to make so that you couldn't refuse him. His question was only meant to irritate you, to remind you that no matter how mad you might have been you couldn't deny him. He started to remove his hand from your pants, which caused you to whine at the loss of friction.

"Goddamnit, Bo," you muttered.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you back against his chest, "Do you want me to stop?"

You knew you couldn't hide the blatant desire that had no doubt made its way to your eyes by now. You watched him read it, but still, he waited for your answer. He needed to hear you say it, needed to know you wanted him to fuck you senseless right here, right now. And you did. That's exactly what you wanted.

"Never," you breathed as your eyes flickered down to his lips.

It didn't go unnoticed. He let out that arrogant chuckle of his as his own eyes wandered to your wanting mouth.

"'Course you don't," he practically growled before he pressed his lips against yours hard as he could.

You barely even noticed your neck aching from the angle, all you could focus on was his tongue gliding over yours and how his teeth pulled at your bottom lip in an almost needy way before he pushed you back against the tree. His hands made quick work of yanking your pants down before he freed himself from his own. He snaked one hand around to your front again while the other aligned himself with your entrance. He wasn't gentle in the slightest as he pushed himself in and used the arm wrapped around you to pull you tighter against him. Once he had bottomed out you felt his head in the crook of your neck.

"Fuck," he breathed against your skin as if he was already in shambles at how tight you were, "if this is what you hating me feels like, keep it up."

A smirk had started to curve on your lips, but he was quick to put a stop to that. He pulled out just about all the way only to thrust back in, making your expression contort into an almost pained one, but you were far from in pain. You lived for the way he filled you up, especially in moments like this. You knew he was determined to remind you that only he could make you feel like this, to remind you that you were his and only his. Not much else compared to the way Bo fucked you after a fight. His passion for you was always at its peak when he was desperate to make you stay.

You felt his hand rest on your shoulder as he began his quick pace while the other resumed drawing those little circles around your clit. They were sloppier than before, far less calculated, but it was just what you needed. One thing you didn't hate was your own ability to make Bo crumble. You got off on it, the way he just lost himself in you. As if your body, your skin and your touch was the only thing in the world that could make him fold. He may have started with control in his grasp, but you could feel the power shift now. You could hear it in the way he panted in your ear, feel it in those circles that grew sloppier and sloppier with each thrust. You knew he was making that face you loved, his brows furrowed, mouth agape, his tongue practically hanging out of it as he watched where your bodies connected in awe. It brought you to the edge just picturing that blissed out expression of his and knowing you were the one that put it there. You tightened around him, hanging off of each circle he drew. That wave was just seconds from crashing over you and he felt it.

"That's it, baby," he panted out as he leaned in closer to your ear, made his thrusts deeper, "show me just how much you hate me."

He added just the slightest extra bit of pressure with his fingers and it had you melting, coating his digits in your juices as you came for him. Your body began to tremble as he continued his pursuit for his own climax, fucking you through yours. Your moans filled his ears and with your body clenched around him, he went over the edge. He let his head fall back as his hands squeezed your hips, there was no doubt bruises would form from how tight his grip was. He let out an almost animalistic growl as he spilled into you, filling you to the brim. His fist slammed into the tree just beside your face and he stilled inside you, breath hot and heavy against the back of your neck. You could have stayed like that for hours, bodies intertwined, listening to him struggle to regain his composure and fail to control his shaky breath.

"Shit," he breathed as he slid out of you, proudly admiring the sight of his seed dripping down your legs, "good luck leavin' me now."

You turned your head to see just how smug he looked with that crooked smirk pulling at his lips, "Sure as hell might be trapped," he said with a laugh.

"You're an asshole," you replied, struggling to keep the smile from your face.

He grabbed you by your hand and swiftly spun you round so you were pressed against his chest, "Sure am, but I'm your asshole. Probably for a good long while after that."

"Maybe that's exactly what I wanted," you said slyly as you stood on your toes to meet his lips.

He smiled into your kiss, "You're tellin' me you planned that? The fight, tryin' to leave, all for me to knock you up? And I'm the asshole?" He said against your lips.

"Maybe," you replied, "I'm smarter than you think, Bo."

"Or dumber," he teased.

He pulled back and lifted his hand to brush some of your now messy hair out of your face. His eyes had softened now and he took your chin in his hand.

"You coulda just asked, you know," he said as his thumb brushed your skin gently.

"It's more fun to piss you off," you said with a grin.

He shook his head with a laugh, "No shit."

#bo sinclair #horror #horror fiction #bo sinclair smut #slasher #slasher smut #slasher fanfiction #slasher fandom #slasher fucker #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #house of wax #house of wax smut #horror fan #bo sinclair one shot #HORROR SMUT #slasher oneshot #slasher x reader #slasher simp #writer #smut #house of wax 2005 #beauregard sinclair

[msookyspooky]

Slashers at a Haunted House:

Vincent Sinclair

18+ • Short Story Imagines • GN!Reader x Vincent Sinclair • Smut • Exhibitionist/Voyeur • Fear • Power Dynamics • Blowjob with Vincent Recieving • Sketchy Sex in Public Places

- Vincent Sinclair

"Vinny, I'm scared..." You mumbled before yelling and grabbing hold of him as a gust of wind shot out at you from a wall. He just drew you into his side as you didn't hear him bit felt his chest rumble with a silent chuckle at your reaction.

This was the one time of year that with enough coaxing you could get him to participate in things outside of Ambrose. It was sad to you he viewed himself even with the mask as a freak to not be perceived. But...You could understand. A huge, long haired, non verbal man in a mask out and about in any season but Fall was sure to grab unwanted attention. A few times someone, mainly kids, would compliment his costume and you would thank them for him but you felt terrible they viewed him as a Halloween costume. He would sign to you to not worry, he was use to it...Once a woman complimented his mask saying it was 'beautifully done' and you could tell he did take that as an actual compliment.

Regardless, it was the week after Halloween and you convinced him (And Bo's overprotective ass to let you both go.) to go to a Haunted House that wasn't crowded since this Halloween you didn't get to. Vincent hesitated a while before agreeing.

So here you were, in a very long dark and good Haunted House that had scares every turn and you gripping Vincent's sweater and burying your face in it. Screaming a few times and holding onto his waist for dear life. He signed 'You wanted this, dear.' in a light mockingly jest.

You smiled a few times after being scared in a more 'relaxed' area. A beautiful New Orleans cemetary theme with above ground crypts. Blue lights, fog, the smell of cool dirt they had in the room, and ambience music in the background as you adventure through it. Vincent seemed to slow down taking it all in. It was rare he got out of Ambrose to do something like this without Bo tagging along and probably ruining it by bitching...You tried to enjoy it too till a scare actor jumped at you from a crypt.

"Shit!" You screamed, hugging Vincent around the waist and burying your face in his chest like a kid. His body shook with silent laughter as he rubbed your back. However, the more you gripped him and screamed and needed him...The more you noticed how...Handsy he was being halfway through the haunted house. His hands getting bolder than usual especially for in public.

As soon as you rounded the corner he signed 'You okay, dear heart?'

You nodded, adrenaline peaked. "Y-Yeah...Damn, they got me." You nervously chuckled. Sweating and jumpy as hell. Clinging to him like a lifeline.

He hesitated before you felt his large hand gripping your hip to draw you close. 'You scared?'

You nodded, biting your lip with a nervous smile.

'I'm here.'

"I know. I know you won't let anything hurt me." You hugged him and felt how passionately he gripped you back. Running his hand over your shoulder.

You both kept walking but you noticed how he seemed to be distracted by something.

"Are you alright?"

He grunted, looking around you both a bit for some reason. You both rounded a corner to another room.

He drew you close, stopping in a secluded hallway where no one was but a creepy doll in the corner. You felt your eyes widen as he pressed his hips flush against you to feel...Well, just how excited he was. He ground his hips against you a bit, gently squeezing your hips while staring down at you intensely. Barely able to see his one eye through the mask in the dim room.

"O-Oh...Vinny?....Here!?" Your breath hitched and you saw that blue eye behind the mask crinkle up and gleam in excited lust as he slowly nodded. A look you often saw on Bo as his identical twin but Vincent had it too. His hands shaking and twitching on your hips a bit at the dirty idea in his head.

You realized seeing you scared, needy, grabbing him, begging him to protect you had a VERY honest effect on him. The thought had you flustered at what he seemed to be getting at.

Everyone thought Bo was the perverted twin but they BOTH had a side to them. Bo was just a cocky ass about it because his good looks had him more confident as well as his very hot tempered ways leaving little room for him to be as 'polite' as his brother unless he needed to lay on the charm. Bo flaunting it and you rolling your eyes at him was a regular occurrence sbout his 'fun room' and sick interest he mentioned...You being with his brother instead of him most definitely eating at Bo even if he never would outright say it. That sibling rivalry and his brother for once getting someone that wanted nothing to do with Bo had him flabbergasted and seeing you as a challenge. Vincent shut that shit down very fast when Bo once threatened to 'take you to the gas station and teach you how to behave' in an argument and you thought Vincent was gonna punch Bo or stab him with how he loomed near his brother protectively over you. Even Bo looked taken aback as he told him 'Calm down now; I-Im jus' jokin' Vince!'

Bo's passion was controlling Ambrose, thinking of new acts to lure victims, his fucked up bondage room and 'manly things' like cars or fixing something handy around town. Vincent's passion was his sculptures and you and that's all he needed.

But you found out real quick he may not have the bondage/control kink Bo has to self soothe his trauma and get victims but Vincent was freaky in his own way just like Bo; he just didn't have anyone to be freaky with until you came along.

Still standing in that doorway like corner l; He subtly took your hand and used it to caress the bulge growing in his pants with a grunt. No one could tell unless they had night vision cameras and apparently Vincent didn't care...Hell, you didn't care the second you felt that beautiful cock you loved so much begging for your attention and the hungry look in his eye.

"Vince, what if someone sees?" You whispered with excitement bubbly up in you, cautious of just standing here for an actor or possibly other people attending to find. So to your surprise he nodded, his long dark hair moving with his body as you walked flush against each other but he ever so subtly slipped your hand under his oversized sweater in the dark.

You got the jist, biting your lip with a naughty smile and unbuttoning his pants just enough to dip your hand in and gently touch him. He groaned softly as you both walked slower than you normally would. No one the wiser with his engorged cock still in his pants and his sweater covering your hand as you walked with him in a tight grip. Looking like you just had your arms around him and nothing more.

A scare actor jumped out in the dark, you screamed and accidentally gripped the base of Vincent's cock tighter as he groaned and he pushed you gentky; guiding you to keep walking. This was more of a tease for him as you weren't even stroking. Just clenching and unclenching in fear. All while his dick became your support system to hold as you both tried making your way through this haunted house.

It was towards the end. Maybe you gripped it too tight? Or maybe he just couldn't contain it anymore? But there was a corridor with a large corner where you both saw no scare actors were, no trick doors, nothing. Just spider webs, an animatronic spider in the ceiling and black light making the whole place glow blue-ish white.

He pushed you into the corner and guided you to your knees. You looked fearful of the area, whether you were scared of spiders or not, the anticipation of something scaring you and being caught had your stomach fluttering.

"Vinny, n-no this is...This is freaking scary! What if?!-"

You saw his expressionless mask and long hair only from this angle in the dark as he pulled himself out. The sight of his large weeping cock made your mouth water and dry all at the same time. So excited your body was tingly from you nerves being wracked...

The irony that he could look like Bo had he not been conjoined at birth you'd argue even more handsome with his long hair and demeanor. That such gorgeous hair, a beautiful blue eye that as a pair would've made anyone weak, a well built body like a god, and the most beautiful aesthetically pleasing well endowed cock you'd ever seen belonged to him. It plain out wasn't fair to him. Not at all. You questioned how cruel life could be to rob this breathtaking man of a normal face. Coupled with a wonderful yet shy personality because of his face and the most gentle yet protectively passionate lover you ever had. It just made you love him more; his face beautiful to you even if society didn't think so.

You released a shaky breath, geeling your loins heat up and lower abdomen flip at his leaky cock staring you in the face under the blacklight.

'Hurry.' He demanded with a quick sign as he pushed towards you.

You nodded, realizing time was of the essence and you did have to hurry. He gripped the thick base of his dick, stroking fast shallow strokes as you opened your mouth and took him in. The adrenaline and fear as the animatronic jolted made you jump before whimpering. Your tongue lapping and swirling around him while furiously bobbing your head. This was crazy, terrifying in its own way and something about it made you sucking and lick faster. The fear of being caught urging you. Making needy gulping noises around his dick that stretched your jaw out a bit while it glided past your lips.

His hand helped, just as eager to not get caught as you. Furiously working himself into your mouth as you gagged a bit trying to swallow and accommodate his size but your throat wasn't relaxing. It seemed to just turn him on more as he grunted above you.

The silky flesh running along your tongue as he gripped your head to force you to bob and you moaned around him.

"Woah! No way, this is fucking creepy!" You heard a group of adults voices.

You froze as you heard the group of people rounding the corner. Whimpering in fear before Vincent lightly tapped your cheek as a warning to be quiet before stroking your head in comfort. Your mouth cockwarming him as it thumped against your tongue. You accidentally swallowed, moving your tongue under it and it twitched in your mouth. Vincent tensing to stay still.

The group screamed and in some way all said 'God! Hell no! That is definitely a guy gonna jump at us!' at Vincent's back turned away, long black hair, just standing in the corner blocking their view of you. They weren't all the way by as he started moving again, grunting at the excitement you both were seen and almost caught. The idea of fucking your mouth while people might see had him pulsing on your tongue. You whined and gagged as tears almost sprung to your eyes. You were a nervous wreck but somehow that added to the excitement as he pumped himself at the base while driving the head into your eager mouth.

It wasn't long before his moves got erratic from that little scare on both your parts. He grunted and huffed. All before you felt his cum hit the back of your throat. You gulped and whimpered, throat dry and sensitive from your nervousness as he pulled himself away. A string of drool and cum clinging from his tip to your tongue.

He sighed and put himself away, adjusting before looking at you. Your wide nerve wrecked eyes looking up at him like a deer in headlights. Doe like and flustered and fearful and turned on. He petted your hair/head before helping you up. Running a hand over your cheek with a soft look in his eyes. He signed 'Thank you' and 'I love you'.

You couldn't help smiling, excited still for many reasons but biting your lip and glad you were able to please him. "I love you too. It was...Something Vinny. I'm glad we had fun...That was so kinky and crazy!" You whispered, laughing a bit.

You both went to exit and finish the attraction. You were turned on yourself but still jumpy and a bit antsy to get out of here...However, he stopped you both. You barely saw his eye widen in shock in the dark hole of his masks eye socket and saw how reserved he was acting.

"...What?"

He lightly cleared his throat behind the mask obscured by some of his hair and swiped his thumb over your lip. Showing you just what was glowing under the UV light. You swore your stomach dropped and face felt like fire.

"Oh my God...Is it off?!" You hissed out. He nodded but you didn't believe him as you rubbed the inside of your shirt furiously over your lower face; mortified of fucking cum on your lips glowing in the blacklight!

He...Actually chuckled a bit at your reaction. Seeming turned on by the sight as well as amused.

"Seriously, Vince! Is it off?!"

He nodded and you trusted him. Even if you still felt absolutely flustered by it all. "L-Let's go home. I think my hearts had enough excitement for a night."

He nodded, and held you close to him as you both walked out to go inevitably go back to Ambrose and do something about your pent up nerves if it didn't happen in the truck before you could even get home.

#I rarely write for Vincent but here we are #vincent sinclair imagine #house of wax vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair smut #Vince Sinclair house of wax #house of wax (2005) #house of wax smut

[fandom-imagines]

Bad idea, right?

Fandom: House of Wax

Pairing: Ex!Bo Sinclair x Reader

Warnings: Exes-to-Lovers, implied nsfw, mainly dialogue, reader doesn't know about Ambrose, not proofread.

Inspired by bad idea right by Olivia Rodrigo!

Seeing the name ‘Bo Sinclair’ pop up in her phone a couple of months after they had officially ended things was not something that Y/N expected during her night-in with her friends.

As the four of them were seated around her best friend’s coffee table, the loud text-tone of Y/N’s phone broke the conversation that they were having and at first, she seriously debated ignoring it.

“It can’t be anybody important,” she said to the group. “It’s probably just my boss asking me to work a shift tomorrow!”

The three girlfriends giggled, each raising their eyebrow in a questioning manner.

“Just answer it!” One said, tossing the woman’s phone to her, one which she caught with expert accuracy.

“Fine.” She huffed, a sound which was cut short when she read the texters name.

Thankfully, nobody noticed the way her eyes widened in both shock and confusion, the emotions intensifying the moment her phone began ringing.

Bo Sinclair is calling.

Answer.        Decline.

It was at that moment Y/N realised that she had never changed his contact image. It was still a photo she took of him whilst they were drunk in Ambrose.

“Sorry,” she muttered to the group, leaving the room to answer the call.

It was as though her body was on autopilot as she answered the phone, his name falling from her lips just as easily as it had when they were a couple.

“Bo? I haven’t heard from you in a couple of months, is everything okay?” Y/N asked, assuming it must be bad for him to call her. After all, he was the one who broke up with her after they had an argument about him keeping secrets from her.

The line was silent for a moment, and she wondered if he had changed his mind, realised his mistake, and hung up. That was, until he spoke.

It wasn’t anything huge, just her name, but it was enough to have her heart racing, past feelings resurfacing at the sound.

“That’s me,” came her response, a forced chuckle shortly following.

“You should come over.” He said.

“What…?”

“You heard me.”

The door to the room she was previously in opened, startling Y/N. She knew then that she had been caught, cheeks flushed and hands shaking; she simply prayed they wouldn’t judge her too much.

“Y/N?” Her best friend asked, smirking as she took in the appearance of the woman on the phone.

“Think about it, Darling. I’ve texted you my new address.” Were Bo’s final words as he hung up the phone, the device suddenly feeling one-hundred times heavier than before.

“Is everything okay?” Rachel, her best and closest friend, asked with concern. “Who was that?”

With a harsh swallow, Y/N spoke. “That was Bo.”

“Bo? As in your ex? What did he want?”

“He wants me to go over, just moved or something.”

“At this time? You can’t seriously be considering it, Y/N! He’s your ex-boyfriend, for crying out loud!” Rachel exclaimed in shock, remembering how heartbroken her friend was when Bo broke up with her.

“Yes, I know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?” Y/N asked. “I only see him as a friend!” The biggest lie I ever said, being her immediate thought after she finished speaking.

“You can’t be serious?” Rachel was clearly unimpressed with Y/N’s choices but knew she was in no spot to say anything; everyone makes bad choices. “It’s a bad idea, right, but I can’t stop you.”

With a smile, Y/N spoke. “Fuck it, it’s fine.”

With a smile on her own face, Rachel repeated her words. “Fuck it, it’s fine.”

*

As she reached Bo’s new house in Ambrose, she hadn’t expected him to be stood at the door with a small smirk, giving her reason to believe to he had been waiting for her to pull up.

“What did you tell your friends?” He asked, widening the door for her to enter the house.

“That I was going home to sleep,”

“Well, you never said where or that you were in my sheets. I guess you could say you just tripped and fell into it.” He joked, still smirking.

“Seeing you tonight, it’s a bad idea, right?” Y/N spoke aloud, watching the way Bo’s smirk widened at her internal debate. “I should probably not.”

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” He said, as though he had heard the previous conversation with Rachel.

Watching Y/N stood in front of him once again had Bo’s chest feeling a way that he wasn’t used to feeling. He didn’t miss her, no, no way! He only saw her as a friend, somebody to hook up with! The biggest lie he ever said.

Y/N watched as he stared at her, seemingly too deep in thought to even notice her moving towards him. Judging by the way he flinched as her hands landed on his shoulders, she knew he hadn’t been paying attention at all.

Bo, who was now well-aware of her touch, leant in to connect their lips, his arm wrapping around her waist in an instant. The feeling of her lips against his after months apart had both parties reacting in ways that they didn’t know were humanly possible.

One of Y/N’s hands moved from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, fingers interlocking with his hair, tugging sharply as Bo bit on her lower, drawing a moan from her. Bo’s free hand reached to toy with the fabric of her shirt, tugging it over her head.

“Should we go upstairs?”

*

Neither of them knew how to react.

Bo, who wasn’t exactly the best at expressing his emotions, watched as the woman he still loved prepared to leave. He didn’t want her to but didn’t know how to express that without seeming ‘weak’.

“You don’t need to go,” Bo muttered, almost too quiet for Y/N to hear.

“What do you mean?”

With a sigh, Bo knew he had to tell her the truth, no matter how much he didn’t want to. “I don’t want you to leave. Not again.” He admitted, cheeks warming at the confession.

“You… don’t?” She asked him, genuine curiosity and confusion in her orbs. “Why?”

“Because… Fuck are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what, Bo?”

“Because I still love you, okay!?” He yelled, and he was grateful that Vincent was visiting Lester that night. “I mean, fuck, I’m- I’m sorry, all right? I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I was scared what you would say if you knew the truth.”

“The truth about what?”

“Everything! The town, Vincent, Lester, me…. If you knew the truth, you’d never look at me the same.”

As Y/N stared at him, concern evident, Bo winced slightly. He wasn’t exactly used to expressing his emotions, especially not these types of emotions, but as she moved to sit beside him, he couldn’t stop the words leaving his lips.

“Please don’t leave again, Y/N…”

“I won’t, Bo, but only if you tell me the truth.”

#idk what this is #house of wax #house of wax x reader #house of wax imagine #house of wax imagines #house of wax fanfic #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax smut #house of wax bo #house of wax bo sinclair #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair imagines #bo sinclair fanfiction #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair smut #olivia rodrigo

[sleepingdeath-light]

collaring headcanons ; sinclair brothers (18+)

kinktober day twenty two extra

pairing ; bo sinclair x gender neutral!reader, lester sinclair x gender neutral!reader, vincent sinclair x gender neutral!reader

note ; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

bo sinclair

bo is big on the possessive aspect of collaring and may even be the one to bring it up - especially if your relationship began with you as a captive

he’ll use a cheap, heavy dog collar for this and he’ll make sure to keep it as tight as he can without suffocating you

it’s leather and rough, worn with years of use, and it’ll have one of two things engraved on it depending on the ins and outs of your relationship

you’re either “good boy/girl/pet” or “property of bo sinclair”

either way the message is clear, but he’ll say that the choice is up to you

lester sinclair

lester wouldn’t be aware of the concept of collaring a partner until you bring it up in a conversation that left him both terribly flustered and with the realisation that he may not be as traditional as he thought floating through his mind

he’d take you with him when he goes to buy you a collar, taking you around various shops in the nearest towns to ambrose and trying his best to make sure that it’s perfect for you

and if you can’t find it elsewhere? well he’s not above going to vincent and asking him to make one

by the end of the affair, you’ll have the perfect collar for you: made in your favourite colour, adjusted to your desired thickness/weight and engraved with whatever it is that you want

vincent sinclair

vincent strikes me as the quietly kinky type - someone who is well versed in bdsm ideas but never thought he’d have the opportunity to express those desires because of his lifestyle and appearance

so if you were the one to propose the involvement of a collar, he’d be more than thrilled at the idea - determined to craft the perfect accessory for you, perfectly matching your every desire and whim

he’d go through dozens of drafts before creating the first pass, then repeating that process for the second and third and fourth - showing it to you each time and making careful note of your suggestions and observations before getting back to work

but all of those all-nighters and weeks of work are worth it when he finally sees you wearing the perfected collar he made for you - he can barely bring himself to look away the first time he sees you, openly admiring you and signing enough earnest compliments to leave you terribly flustered

in fact, he loves the sight so much that he’ll take it upon himself to hand craft you a collection of collars - each made to your proportions and taste and each worn at least once during a more intimate moment

bonus points if you ask for one that brands you as belonging to him in one way or another

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #smut #minors dni #collaring #house of wax x reader #house of wax smut #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair smut #slashers x reader #slasher smut #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair smut #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair smut

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

What Are We?

pairing: bo x gn!reader

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

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

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

word count: 1171

"What are we?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled. "Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you had never felt more broken.

[Main Masterlist] [Bo Masterlist]

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

[cypressnmarigolds]

NSFW Vincent Sinclair HCs

Even though I really, really need to finish writing my Thomas installment of Lesson Learned, I'm gonna share my naughty Vincent headcanons because they've literally been eating my brain.

Contains: Vincent being a creepy little perv.

🚫 Minors, blank and no-age blogs are not welcome on my blog or to interact with my posts. You will be blocked. 🚫

He's a virgin. I'll leave elaborating my reasoning for another time. don't want this getting angsty.

I HC Vinny as a closet perv. Really takes off once you've caught his attention and managed to be allowed to live. If he has his way, you will never catch on, or even find out he's interested in you. He's embarrassed, among other feelings.

Before you came along, he has had plenty dirty thoughts and fantasies. Hell, he's probably read through any and all smutty books he's been able to find in visitors belongings. But after you show up and he has someone to focus all of his thoughts on? HORNY.

Now, I mean he's a ✨pervert✨ He will steal your underwear and jerk off in them, then quickly wash them and put them back before you've noticed they're missing. He will, at some point, somehow catch you naked without you noticing. IDK how he does it but he will.

He will then draw your nude form several times, in many positions.

He will jerk off to these too and would rather let Bo and Lester find them before you.

If he ever overhears you touching yourself or having a steamy dream, he will listen and touch himself to you. If not right then, he will file it away for later.

Lil Blurb

But seriously can you imagine? He manages to catch you changing, or overhears you moaning in the dead of night. He immediately gets hard. Later, he's kneeling in his bed, sweats just pulled down enough to free his cock, desperately jerking himself off to the memory, mask discarded and biting down on the sleeve of his black hoodie to quiet himself even though there's no chance in hell anyone could hear him. He's also done this while "admiring" some of the picture he drew of you. He is a CREEP.

He's embarrassed about how horny he is for you, but don't misunderstand, he doesn't feel guilty about sneaking around without you knowing. He was the good child, he was the favorite. He probably got everything he wanted. And though Bo probably pulled an Uno Reverse on him after their parents were gone and bullies him all the time, Vincent still feels a sense of entitlement. If he wants something, he'll take it. If he wants to see you naked in the shower without you catching him, he will. If you wants to watch you touch yourself without noticing his presence, that's what's gonna happen. Again, CREEP

I'm conflicted on whether or not he'll need you to take the led the first several times, or if once he knows you're interested and gets over the shock, he'll pounce on you and take what he wants. That's if either of you ever make a move.

But let me be clear, he wants to see you come. He wants to see you fall apart under his hands and mouth and cock. Huge ego boost knowing he can make you feel so good.

But he has massive switch energy If you take the lead, lay him down on his back and hold his hips down while you peg him/fuck him/blow him/jerk him off, he's cumming in record time. I can see him being a whimpering, needy pillow princess.

*big sigh* Ok, think I got all my brain eaters out. If you enjoyed this, please feel free to leave a comment, and please reblog. This isn't instagram. Likes do jack shit to circulate content, and no circulating content means fandoms on this site will die.

#vincent sinclair x reader #minors dni #house of wax smut #Crook's HCs #Crook's Writing

[sunkendreams]

uhh asking for a request of bo and just anything that involves with duct tape 😭😭 gagging or bounding im happy either way

Also love ur work! 🩷💖

souvenir.

➾ pairing ; bo sinclair x fem!reader.

in which bo decides that he’ll take you as his souvenir — a pretty hiker lost in ambrose.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 5.3K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), DUBCON, drugging, kidnapping, bondage (tape and chains), restraints, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, groping, knifeplay, rough sex, p in v sex, different positions, spitting, choking, bruising, hair-pulling, scratching, marking, use of pet names (good girl, sweetheart, etc.), dom/sub dynamics, begging, dirty talk, edging, creampie, unprotected sex, bo is definitely not nice in this fic

author’s note: this is definitely more of a darker fic, but I actually loved writing it ,,, nothing like gross and horny sex with bo sinclair to get the blood flowing! I hope you all enjoy! Still working on requests, I’m hoping to post a few things this week since I’ve been so busy!

Warm, glittering rays of a vibrant Louisiana sun cut through the thick canopy of trees and marshland, bathing your face in a haze of heat. It was midday — hot and sticky, accompanied by a stifling humidity that was prevalent in the South, not terribly far from a saltwater coastline.

Beneath you was the grass — clutches of wildflowers blossomed amongst strands of emerald, a temporary refuge for you to rest as you savored the outdoors. A town sat in the near-distance, baking away underneath the sun, as evidenced by the paint wearing thin and the asphalt looking gray instead of black.

You’d been hiking by yourself — that was your first mistake. Too brazen and bold enough to be without the company of your friends, and now, subject to the ire of Ambrose’s hidden devils.

It was akin to ringing the dinner bell when Lester had caught wind of your presence through the scope of a well-used Barrett. Once he’d informed Bo over a very colorful phone call, your fate was sealed, doomed to become another pretty fixture in the House of Wax.

There was no getting out of Ambrose — you just didn’t know it yet.

As the glaring sun began to slip behind the verdant canopy above you, you took it as a sign to relocate, trekking the short distance toward the quaint town. You could hear the general buzz and chatter of townsfolk, but there wasn’t a soul in-sight — the ones that were, confined to their eternal tombs.

“Nobody’s home.” You murmured, thumbing the thick straps of your backpack as you sauntered down the middle of the road, glancing at some of the vehicles lining the road. Some appeared brand-new, others showing signs of weathering.

You passed the gas station and row of various houses, making your way toward the church. The distant hum of an organ guided your path, leading you to the steps and to the devil himself.

Bo Sinclair stood in front of a set of white doors, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, a bead of sweat glistening upon his brow. He wore his Sunday best to look the part, gaze flickering toward your pretty, doe-eyed countenance when you’d stopped a few feet away.

A cloud of billowing smoke drifted into the air, a thin gray wisp that dissipated into the staggering heat. He appraised you in an unusual silence, drinking you in, shamelessly admiring the way your jeans clung to your body. Bo’s own fascination was nearly palpable — he still wondered what possessed a girl to go hiking alone.

Maybe you were stupid — he didn’t think so.

“Sermon getting to you?” You hadn’t intended to come off as simpering or awkward, gesturing toward the cigarette in the stranger’s mouth. A chattering ambiance and piano music emanated from inside of the church, and you felt severely underdressed in the presence of this man — the only one you’d seen in the town so far.

A huff escaped him as he ashed his cigarette, granules of charcoal floating towards the steps. “Might need another cigarette if that’s the case,” Bo chortled, taking another long drag. He ogled you again, jaw tensing as he sized you up, unbeknownst to you. “You lost?”

You would do perfectly — prettiest thing he’d seen in ages, that much was for certain.

Bo’s mind worked differently than yours, sinister and callous when compared to your innocuous demeanor. Whilst you stood along the picket-fence, contemplating about finding a good drink of water, Bo was picturing you strapped down to his bed, clothes cut away.

“A little bit,” It was painful for you to confess to being lost, considering how many times you’d traversed the backwoods of Louisiana. The sound of your voice was enough to momentarily sever Bo’s salacious train of thought, watching as you picked at the fading paint along the fence. “Do you know if there’s a convenience store around here or anything?”

He shook his head, motioning down the street. “Closed for th’day, I’m afraid. Lookin’ for somethin’ in particular?” Bo asked, attempting to lay the foundation for you, building a rapport that was surely to break once he got his hands on you. It was all about the building.

You shrugged, withering away beneath the oppressive heat of the midday sun. You wondered how this man was so unusually comfortable within an all-black suit and tie. Nonetheless, you decided to be truthful. “I’m just looking for a quick drink before I hike back to the main road. I’m a little low on water.”

“If you’re willin’ to make the trek, I can take you up to my place. Won’t take long, ten minutes or so.” Bo offered, attempting to sweeten the deal. It was akin to a predator skillfully drawing their prey inward, making it difficult to resist. He took another lengthy drag of his cigarette before smashing it against the concrete with the toe of his boot.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother,” Admittedly, you felt intrusive — a meddlesome presence amidst a quiet, peaceful town. You felt even worse interrupting a church service, but Bo didn’t seem phased whatsoever. “I don’t want to distract you from church, either.”

Bo scoffed, lips twitching into something sardonic, one hand perched atop his hip. “Don’t think th’good Lord really cares a whole lot for me these days,” He mused, and you couldn’t tell if he was being serious. “Let me take you up there.” He motioned for you to follow him.

Leaving the white chapel behind, you walked alongside him, somewhat smitten by his Southern drawl and charismatic charm. Beads of sweat glistened along his brow, and he promptly loosened his tie as the two of you made it toward a stretch of beaten-up road.

“Name’s Bo, by th’way. Forgot my manners.” Bo mused, making sure to really lay on the flirtation and appeal. It wasn’t hard for him to tell how flustered you were already — and he fully intended on manipulating such a fact.

“Nice to meet you, Bo.” You smiled, cordial and polite as you sauntered alongside him. “How long have you lived here in Ambrose? It seems so far from the rest of civilization.” It was out of reach, away from the rest of the world, a world that was impervious to the sinister deeds of the Sinclairs.

Unfortunately, you were now in their territory, subject to their rules and ire.

Bo chuckled, shamelessly stealing glances at you whenever possible. You were gorgeous — a looker with a sweet demeanor. He wanted to lick that sweetness right off of you, drain it all, keep it for himself. “Lived here for most of my life. Town’s real quiet, jus’ known for the House of Wax.”

Intrigue glistened upon your features, and you recalled the sign that you’d spotted during your hike — Trudy’s infamous House of Wax. The building itself sat in the distance, nestled amongst a cluster of hills. Even that seemed relatively dormant.

“It’s nice here, really peaceful. You must get used to the silence.” You replied, stepping up the incline as Bo gently steadied you with one arm. You murmured a soft ‘thank you’ as a house came into view, rustic yet large. This must’ve been Bo’s home. “Is this it?”

He motioned toward the house, wrapping his tie around his hand as he loosened up his collar. “Yeah, this is it. We’ll go on inside, you can sit an’ I’ll get you fixed up with somethin’ for the road.” Bo chimed, making his way to the front door.

Bo let you inside, gesturing toward the couch and recliner that sat in the living room. It was a very well lived-in home, but you didn’t seem to mind. You moved toward the couch, finally able to sit somewhere comfortable and relax, placing your backpack beside you.

“Thank you for doing this, Bo. I appreciate it.” You piped up, watching as he moved toward the kitchen. The interior of the home felt warm and inviting, littered with plenty of things to look at. There was ample opportunity for Bo to take matters into his own hands.

One of the cupboards in the kitchen had what he needed, a syringe filled with some strange concoction, a thicker liquid. His dark gaze darted toward you, distracted by your surroundings. Bo took the syringe, discreetly keeping it by his side as he stepped behind you, offering you a water bottle.

“‘Course. Heat’s pretty bad in these parts.” He replied, and you immediately unscrewed the lid, greedily drinking several gulps of icy water. Bo was close, hovering above you with a manic look in his eyes.

Before you had time to properly react, his hand closed around the underside of your jaw, squeezing tight to hold you steady. The intrusive, cold prick of a needle digging into your neck made you scream, but Bo had you in a rather uncomfortable chokehold.

“Shh, shh,” He soothed, stroking at your hair. Everything felt numb, and you could no longer feel anything in your arms and legs, reduced to simple tingling sensations. Your cries were in vain, throaty and hoarse as you sank into the couch, limp and lifeless. “Jus’ relax. All that strugglin’ is gonna make it worse.”

Your eyes felt heavy, beginning to close with a weight to them — the last thing you remembered was the glimpse of Bo’s insidious smirk and dark hues before you’d been rendered unconscious.

———————————————————————————

The scratch of duct-tape reverberated around the concrete cellar, obnoxiously close to your ear, causing you to involuntarily wince. The haze of unconsciousness was lifting, but that sound — it made you groan, unpleasant and invasive. You attempted to move as the heaviness wore away in your limbs, but you had no such luck.

You were in the underbelly of some cold, dingy cellar, cement walls lined in grainy polaroids, tools, and obscene amounts of sex toys. An icy, uncomfortable sensation began to pool within the pit of your stomach, and you tried to jerk against the tape around your wrists.

A strange, unsettling chill fluttered about your body, causing you to shudder. Your hiking boots were nowhere to be found, flannel stolen too, leaving you in your shorts and tank top. Something felt intrusive, as if there was an outside presence bearing down on you, crawling beneath your flesh.

Bo was standing at the foot of a strange chair, stained with months-old cruor, dressed differently than before. A pair of mechanic’s coveralls were stained with grease and oil, dark enough to conceal bloodstains. He bit at the strip of duct-tape, clutching it between his teeth as he bound you, keeping you restrained.

“W—Wait,” You babbled, and suddenly, the heightened sensation of fear and startlement blistered through you, visceral and volatile. “Please don’t do this.” Your whimpers fell on deaf ears as Bo continued his mission, sweat layered in a thin sheen along his temples.

Death in a town that wasn’t on the map was a fate worse than any other — you would rot into the ground with no one to find you, only the animals and trees would know; bear witness. You would cease to exist and become a memory, a painful one, eternally trapped within Ambrose.

“You can make this real easy on yourself,” Bo’s husky, dark drawl emerged from the bitter chill of the cellar, roughened hands sliding along your legs. “All you gotta do is behave for me, yeah?” He stood above you, a twisted version of the man you’d met at the church — or perhaps, the real him.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling vulnerable and exposed in your current position. Your hands were bound on either side of you with many rings of duct-tape, legs chained to the floor, yet there was some room for you to walk — if that were even possible. You shivered, mostly from the oppressive cold of the basement coupled with fear.

“Please,” Your chest felt tight, fear unfurling from your ribcage as it spread across your body. A shudder rolled down your spine when Bo grabbed your chin, thumb stroking along your lower lip. “Please don’t kill me.”

Something about this place told you that he’d killed before — they’d been in the very same spot that you were now. A sinister, lascivious gleam glimmered within his dark eyes as they raked over your body, lips curling into a smirk.

“Didn’t say anything about killin’ you, beautiful.” Bo corrected, digits beginning to squeeze your chin, putting pressure on your jaw. “But I might change my mind if y’make this hard for me.” His other hand moved toward your shorts, unbuttoning the front as he ripped the zipper down in one swift movement.

You began to squirm, mortified and flustered as you fought against the tape wrapped around your wrists — but it wasn’t any use. “Don’t.” Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper as he gave you a pointed look.

Bo scoffed, head cocking to one side. “Be a shame if I gotta shut that pretty mouth of yours, too.” It wasn’t a warning, but a threat, a promise — one that he intended to make good on if you weren’t careful. “Gonna open up for me?” He crooned.

There was something hideous about him touching you — and even more so was the disgusting fact that you wanted to let him do it. He was handsome at the church, all a facade of Southern charm and debonair wit, but this was something else entirely.

With a defeated, pitiful expression, you began to part your legs, and that was akin to victory for Bo. His dark chuckle made you shiver, feeling his hand brusquely tug and wrestle with your shorts, inching them down your legs. “You’re real pretty,” He uttered, looking you in the eyes. “Prettiest thing I’ve seen in ages.”

Heat pooled within the pit of your stomach, and you clenched your hands into fists, nearly whimpering when he ghosted his fingers across your clothed cunt. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction — this was wrong, depraved on so many levels, but you found yourself submitting instead of retaliating.

A strangled whimper escaped you as he rounded the chair, standing right in front of you as he planted a kiss against your forehead. “Bet you’re all wet from this, huh?” He husked, voice kept to a low growl as he slipped his fingers into your panties.

Arousal had collected there, slick and warm upon his digits. Part of you wanted to melt into the chair and disappear, muscles tense and taut as you worked to suppress your whining.

“Fuck, look at that,” Bo sneered, greedily sucking your nectar right from his fingers, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. “Guess I was right.” His hand returned to your aching cunt, the other wrangling your panties aside, movements harsh and rough.

You hated that it felt good, offered you a sliver of relief — you wanted to scratch at your restraints, thighs beginning to quiver. A string of incoherent babbling escaped you, mumbled pleas for him to stop. It was quite the juxtaposition to your hips, which happened to lurch forward into his hand.

Bo bullied his way in between your legs, spreading you apart as he lowered himself to his knees — unexpected, but you still felt embarrassed. “Gonna have to have a taste of this pretty cunt,” With a gravelly hum, he grabbed your thighs, unceremoniously spitting a wad of saliva onto your throbbing cunt. “Don’t move.”

“Bo,” It was almost involuntary, moaning his name as you jolted forward, mouth agape. Bo’s grin felt like a hot brand against your inner thigh as he clamped his hands down into your legs, hard enough to cause bruises. “P—Please.” You sputtered.

Part of you felt terribly embarrassed for enjoying yourself at the hands of this man who’d kidnapped you, your innocence being taken advantage of. His calloused, rough hands spread you apart, broad tongue licking a stripe along the length of your slit.

Bo was eating you out like a man starved, breath hot and heavy as he savored you with his lips, tongue swirling across your cunt. His hands groped into your haunches, against the swell of your pliant flesh, practically forcing your hips to tilt into his face as he buried his head between your legs.

With a wanton moan, you slouched back into the rigid frame of the chair, listening to it creak and groan as you writhed around. The manacles that shackled you to the concrete rustled with your movements, fingers curling into your palms. His tongue was deliberate and slow, teasing you with every stroke.

You tried to smother your noises, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but he was ten steps ahead of you. “Can’t hear you, sweetheart,” Bo stopped, ceasing any further contact until you submitted to him. “Gonna have to beg for it, I s’pose.” His sigh was theatrical and badgering, forcing you to whimper.

A simpering, choked-up noise escaped from the back of your throat, desperation beginning to mount as you jerked and jolted forward. Bo simply sat still, attempting to smother that smarmy, devilish grin of his as you shook your head back and forth. “Please keep going, please!” You cried.

Bo clicked his tongue, seemingly unimpressed and dismissive, reaching for the knife that sat in his back pocket. “Ain’t ever met a girl this ungrateful. You rather I stop an’ get this all over with?” His voice was vitriolic, full of a manipulative venom that only served to drag you deeper into his pit.

The sharp, icy blade suddenly traced over your legs, goosebumps erupting in its wake as you shook your head. You didn’t want Bo to hurt you — the idea of being harmed, of being so helpless — it frightened you. Bo enjoyed seeing that little pang of fear within your doe eyes as he prodded the tip of razor-sharp silver into your flesh.

“I’m sorry,” You gasped, stumbling over your words and babbling, restless within the chair. “Bo, please! I — I’ll be loud, I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt me.” It was a gushing string of pleas and begging that didn’t go unnoticed this time.

With soft shushing, Bo sighed, kissing along your inner thigh as he dug his nails into your flesh. It was rough enough to make you feel the burning sting of pain, chest heaving with labored breaths as he nudged his lips against your cunt again. “I think I’m gonna keep you for m’self, how’s that sound?” He uttered.

“Good, good,” You nodded. “I — I want you, please keep going.” Whatever bite and edge you had before had diminished completely, shadowed by his dark, domineering nature. It was hard for anything to break through that barrier of his. He retracted the knife, then and there.

A cajoling chuckle escaped him, one filled with mockery and a duplicitous edge as he lapped at your cunt once more. His tongue was like hot coals, raking across your slit with a wanton need, fingers grabbing and groping at the meat of your thighs.

His cock twitched within his jeans, desperate to be inside of you, make you scream. You wanted to grab at his tousled tresses or grip onto his shoulders, but the duct-tape prevented you from going anywhere, digging into your wrists.

Bo savored you as if you were some delectable meal, licking his lips before toying with your clit. His mouth was feather-light and teasing that bundle of nerves, enough to make you contort within the chair. A strangled moan left you, noisy and desperate, wrought with desire.

“Please, Bo, please,” You breathed, and when your thighs threatened to squeeze his face, he roughly pushed you apart, gazing at you from between your legs. The duct-tape chafed at your flesh, uncomfortably tight around your wrists as you writhed, hips bucking forward. “Please!” You were nearly sobbing.

All inhibitions had been abandoned — you were his now, reduced to his pretty plaything, all spread out on a silver platter. Molten heat surged through you when he lapped at your cunt, hand slipping down as he teased your entrance, giving you no warning as two digits sank into you.

A blissful whine left you, head rolling back against the chair as he nudged your clit, just enough to keep you chasing after that sensation. Bo was undeniably cruel, grazing his teeth over the sensitive bud, causing you to squirm and shiver, all sound escaping you.

“Sing pretty for me,” Bo’s husky, Southern purr emerged from between your thighs, teeth nicking your thigh before he finally began to suck on your clit. His thick digits pistoned in and out of your weeping cunt, providing you with an overwhelming barrage of pleasure. “That’s it.” He huffed, lurching forward.

The rattling of chains couldn’t rip you from the moment as liquid heat coalesced between your legs, with Bo’s chin steeped in your arousal. You moaned again, flexing against your restraints, stomach churning with an anticipation that made you want to melt.

Bo grunted, greedily lapping at your sweet cunt, fingers beginning to curl into that sweet spot, prompting you to choke on any sound that bubbled within your throat. He was like a predator, with you in his clutches, a rabbit trapped within the jaws of a wolf.

With another barrage of practiced licks, he continued his onslaught against your clit, eliciting a myriad of sinful, inhuman sounds from you. Bo — it was the only word that fell from your lips like some chant, and he didn’t stop, feeling your knees buckle and shake around him.

His digits buried themselves into your tight cunt, sluggishly rocking in and out as he sucked on your clit. It sent you careening over the edge, lost to a white-hot explosion of ecstasy as you came, moaning and shivering, a complete and utter mess.

He was the devil — pearlescent teeth glinting in the low, buzzing light of the cellar. The shadows moved in a way that made him seem sinister. You were surprised that he didn’t have horns and a forked tongue, but it was likely a trick of the eyes. You huffed, fading away into your post-orgasm haze, but Bo was far from finished.

“We ain’t done just yet,” He uttered, licking his lips as he moved up from between your legs, hand gripping your chin as he dragged you forward. Bo made you open your mouth, head tilted backward as he leaned in, countenance contorting into a sneer. “Got a little gift for you, for bein’ good.”

A wad of his saliva landed upon your tongue, and you nearly choked, feeling filthy and vulnerable. His eyes glistened with an insidious shade, shadowed and bemused as he closed your mouth, forcing you to swallow his spit.

Bo was expectant, waiting for you to say something — but when nothing emerged, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Where’s your manners?” He reminded you, patting your jaw like he would a beloved dog.

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, somewhat shrewd as Bo grinned, seemingly satisfied with your answer. You squirmed again when Bo began to unzip the front of his pants, breathing noticeably heavier and wrought with unrestrained excitement.

“Now,” Bo hummed, fishing his cock from the confines of his jeans. His erection was thick and heavy within his calloused palm, oozing with pearls of precum. With a step in your direction, he pressed the head of his cock against your cunt. “M’gonna fuck you right.”

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, letting out another moan as he teased your entrance, hooking his hands around your hips. Bo was rough and callous, dragging you forward as he sank his cock into you, grunting at the tightness and warmth.

Another wanton moan escaped you, back beginning to arch as he thrust forward, chest rippling with grunts and subtle growls. Lewd, crass noises reverberated throughout the cellar, the only ambiance that you could really focus on. His shadow eclipsed the stark glare of the light, gaze fixated on you.

Bo’s eyes were shadowed, brewing with something dark yet indecipherable. He began to adopt a very brutal pace, cock pounding away at your poor cunt. You hadn’t done this in so long, to the point where it felt borderline unfamiliar. You sputtered and moaned, feeling one of his hands abandon your leg.

That rough, calloused hand of his found its way to your slender neck, digits squeezing at your throat. It wasn’t particularly gentle, but not enough to completely rob you of air. You whined, unable to keep from watching the way his cock disappeared again and again into your sweet, oozing cunt.

You wanted to grab onto him, onto his arm, chest, anything — instead, you were met with harsh resistance from the duct-tape. “Bo,” You moaned, hips rolling in-tandem with his movements. Bo hunched closer, hand tight around your throat as his thumb pressed into your jugular, causing you to wince. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Bo’s voice dropped to a lower octave, cock rutting away into you with a rough, unyielding amount of force. If he went any harder, he might’ve threatened to split you in half. “Fuck, you’re nice n’tight. Can’t believe you’re gettin’ off to this. You like bein’ tied down an’ fucked by a stranger?” He uttered, and you began to stammer.

A wave of liquid heat burned bright within the pit of your stomach, a flame that only grew in intensity as he kept up with his brutal ministrations. Your cunt clenched pathetically around his cock at his words, causing you to shiver again. “I—I …” You didn’t know what to say, embarrassed and ashamed.

Bo scoffed, voice tapering off into a grunt as he continued to rut forward, cock buried inside of you until he could go no further. “Got you so fucked you can’t even speak,” He sneered, grip tightening on your throat. It was bound to leave some sort of mark, but you knew he didn’t care. “You gonna behave?”

Your head bobbed up and down several times over, voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.” You squeaked, watching with blown-out pupils as he reached for the knife, cutting you loose from the duct-tape. Though, once your hands were free, you were being dragged onto the cold concrete on your stomach.

The steely, sharp bite of the knife sliced through your tank top like butter, leaving you completely exposed to Bo, who remained entirely clothed. Goosebumps coalesced along your spine from the icy temperature of the ground, feeling his hand close into your hair as he fucked you from behind.

His cock battered away at your cunt, stretching you in ways that you never thought possible. It was harsh and intrusive, digits tugging on your hair, wrangling you like you were molded from obsidian. Bo savored the sensation of you rocking back into him, thighs quivering like a leaf.

Your eyes flickered toward the muted brick wall on your left, met with a garish display of polaroids — other girls, girls like you. You had a feeling that none of them had lived to tell the tale.

A pang of dread consumed you, followed by fear — you hoped that you wouldn’t end up on that wall too, immortalized in some sick photograph. Instead, you wanted to increase your chances of survival, moaning and whimpering his name, forehead snug against the concrete.

“You wanna cum?” Bo asked nonchalantly, spoken through labored breathing as his thrusts became quick and sporadic. He was close, cock throbbing inside of you as his other hand clawed bruises and marks into the swell of your hips.

“Yes,” You didn’t hesitate, moaning again when he dug his nails into your flesh, causing you to squirm from discomfort. “Please, Bo! I want you to let me cum!” Desperation was laced within your voice, high-pitched and simpering as he let go of your hip.

“Good girl,” Bo grunted, somewhat perplexed by you. “Finally usin’ your manners.” He reached between your thighs, slathered in your slick and his precum, thumb rubbing circles into your clit. Your back began to arch, pushing back into him as he fucked you like a wild animal, chains clanking against the floor.

Pleasure rippled through you in blistering waves, coupled with the faint sting of pain that radiated from your hip. Bo grunted, breath hot and strenuous as he fucked you senseless, pounding away at your cunt with little regard for your comfort. His thumb toyed with your clit, causing you to writhe and moan.

With another harsh rut of his hips, Bo grunted, pushing his hips forward as he came inside of you, ropes of white-hot seed flooding your cunt. His brow glistened with perspiration as he pulled his cock free, leaving you with the mess of it all, haphazardly smeared between your legs.

Bo, in all his cruelty, tore his hand away from your clit, leaving you a throbbing mess, edged to the brink. You wanted to beg for him to continue, but you were spent, hot flesh soothed by the cold temperature of the floor.

“W—Wait,” Your protests were weak, but still strung-out with desperation. “Aren’t you going to keep going?” There was a little sliver of hope within your voice, but he relented, lips curling into a bemused smirk as he gave your ass a light smack.

“Changed my mind.”

You hated him.

For a moment, you saw red, frustrated without any semblance of relief, but also in misery over your current situation. You didn’t know what to do or say — and the last thing you wanted was for him to become angry with you. You didn’t want to become a permanent fixture on his wall of past trophies.

He stood up, hovering above you as you sheepishly rolled onto your back. Bo’s unsteady, dangerous leer sent shivers down your spine, watching as he stared at you for several moments. “Guessin’ you’ll last longer than the rest have,” He crooned, swiping his tongue across his lower lip. “Go on.”

His head jerked toward the chair, signaling you to climb back in. Your legs quivered in the aftermath of being fucked stupid, and you awkwardly reached for your panties and shorts, but Bo intercepted you. Wordlessly, you sat down in the leather seat, naked and entirely vulnerable.

“Keep you like that for when I come back.” Bo’s Southern purr made you shudder as you trembled, both from fear and from the cold. He couldn’t help but take a little bit of pity on you, tossing you a blanket from the old mattress that sat several feet away from you.

Something about being left entirely alone, naked and used in this basement, made you more terrified than anything else. You didn’t want to be left alone with just your thoughts. Even if Bo had kidnapped you, he was more tolerable than solitude. “You’ll come back?” You asked.

Bo huffed, retrieving his baseball cap. “Maybe,” He could see the hint of fear that had glossed over your eyes. “Maybe I’ll leave you down here an’ let you rot.” His voice was somewhat vitriolic, but undecided — part of you knew that he couldn’t leave you alone after this.

You would take the physicality over being isolated.

Silence drifted between the both of you as your legs shifted, the sound of clanking manacles providing the only bit of ambiance. Bo made for the iron-wrought door, standing in the doorway to give you one last look. Even in your disheveled state, you were beautiful — and now?

You belonged to him.

Before Bo shut the door, his lips twitched into the ghost of a devilish smirk. “Guess I’ll see you soon.”

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #house of wax #house of wax smut #bo sinclair #bo sinclair fanfic #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #house of wax fanfic #house of wax 2005

[boringbxtch]

Sinclair brothers |

I’m having some Sinclair brother brain rot

You are dating one of the brothers when you find him tied to a chair or something and being surrounded by the others, he becomes the cuck and gets forced to watch his brothers use you for their pleasure, though your noise level and cock drunk face say you’re enjoying it the most

Like Bo in the chair while Lester and Vincent go at you ; how pissed off that man is going to get watching everything though I’m sure he’d be the least appreciative being strapped down for obvious reasons so maybe another method of restraint for him

Or Lester in the chair while you get tag teamed by the twins - they’ll show you how well they can work together when they put their minds to it

Or Vincent: just don’t touch his mask when he has no way to stop you, Bo being a little bitch showing Vincent how to treat a hole because right now that’s all you are and Lester being the praiser in this equation while jamming his shaft down your throat

Late nights are either incredible for my writing or terrible I don’t know yet

If someone wants to use any of these please tag me so I can read the absolute filth please

#house of wax smut #house of wax #house of wax imagine #house of wax x reader #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair imagine #vincent sinclair x reader #imagines #bo sinclair #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair imagine #vincent sinclair smut #lester sinclair smut #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair imagine #lester sinclair