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#Bo Sinclair x Reader Oneshot
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Bo Sinclair x Reader || Oneshot
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I finally re-watched HOW without someone talking at me the whole time!! and I don't feel like Bo gets enough fluff in this fandom- so- I wrote something...
Plot: Lester has made a new 'friend' recently, a drifter who doesn't mind the smell of rotting flesh and doesn't get attached, and the rate at which the two are going at each other lately is making you and Bo look like an old married couple that haven't so much as slept in the same bed for 15 years.
Warnings: Sexual references, shenanigans, etc
Finally there's silence, no more banging from upstairs, and you relax; The book in your hand starting to make sense as you read and are no longer having to hear what is definitely- the sound of Lester having a damn good time upstairs.
Huffing out an awkward chuckle, you shake your head and lean back in the old couch. Were you and Bo ever that bad? Damn, you hope not...
Vincent comes up for air, then, and you give him a little smile and a waive as he goes into the kitchen. Just before he's able to breach the doorframe, though, the sound of a bed frame hitting and grinding loosely against a wall starts up all over again upstairs.
He gives a startled jolt, before turning and heading right back down to the basement; Shaking his head.
You, on the other hand, give an exhausted groan- smacking your book up onto your face. No, no you were never this bad. Surely. Bo's little brother has definitely got more stamina than he does, you think. It’s best not to say that to him, though.
"Wh- they're still at it!?"
You're startled by the front door suddenly clicking out of the lock and a box falling with a loud clatter to the ground- and Bo's 'annoyed voice'. Lifting your head out of your book, you look over to him and give a helpless shrug.
"They took a fiver for refreshments a moment ago... but... it looks like they, uh... reconvened… yeah."
"Reconvened." Bo looks disgusted and horrified at you, and you just give a quick shrug. Promptly he turns to the stairs and goes for it. "I am gonna- "
What? What, he's going to what!? No- Discarding your book you hop up after him, and grab his arm just as his foot lands on the first step up. "No you will not! Lester's finally made a friend- aren't you happy for him?? Let’s just go for a walk!"
"A 'friend', huh? Right... Look I've been workin' all day and I'm not gonna be run out of my own damn house- let go." He tries to pull his arm out of your grip, but you stubbornly tighten your grip on it.
"You were hanging out at the gas station all day playing with wrenches, don't bullshit me Bo Sinclair. What do you have to do?? No one’s around. Just come on- I'll grab you a beer and we can hang out in the basement with Vince, he can’t hear a damn thing down there." You're begging him, here. Because sure, hearing all this is not pleasant, but you're looking at it from Lester's point of view, too, and- having your big brother storm in on you doing the do sure wouldn't be pleasant either.
Especially your older brother who has a continuous sex life already- he would be so mad, and you would rather not be around for another Sinclair Brother blow out. You've never seen Lester get mad at Bo (Bo at Vincent, Vincent at Bo, Bo at Lester, and even Vincent at Lester- but sweet Lester's blood does not run as hot as his older brothers), and you would like to keep it that way.
Bo slowly looks from the upstairs landing to you, a grimace on his face. You look pleadingly at him, tugging gently at his arm, and after a moment - miraculously- your mean, stubborn boyfriend cedes his position. Releasing a relieved sigh, you carefully guide him into the kitchen, grab some drinks and you both head down to the basement.
"I mean goddamn, though. How can they go for so fricken long?? Don't they needta eat? Sleep? Fucken breath??- "
Sighing, you nod as you follow him downstairs and give his back a pat. "I know, sweetheart, I know... "
~
After a night hanging out with Vincent, you all go back upstairs ready to go right to bed- and to everyone’s relief, the sound has finally subsided. “Fucken finally.” Bo mutters under his breath through grit teeth, shaking his head.
His twin nods in agreement, as you all head for the kitchen.
Immediately the nice, calm, reasonable disposition you managed to force onto Bo this evening disappears, when you all catch Lester and his ‘mate’ making out against the fridge. “Oh! Come on, now!!” Wincing, you step back with Vincent who gives your shoulder a comforting pat- Lester is on his own, now. “Not on the fridge! Our food comes outta there, I- “
Awkwardly, Lester itches the back of his head as he tries to lighten the atmosphere in here. “Come on, Bo, we weren’t doin’ nothing… just kissin’… “
“Not doing nothing! S’that what you’ve been up to all damn day in your room, then?? Nothing? Sure didn’t sound like it.”
Rolling his eyes and huffing, the closest you’ve ever seen Lester to getting really angry, he shakes his head. “What, are you jealous big bro? Got used to bein’ the head honcho ‘round here and now I’m gettin’ more action than you are?? Sounds like a you problem, ta me… “
Oh no no- you try to step forward and intervene, because this is going to get nasty, but Vincent pulls you gently back. Nope, he signs. Stay here.
Bo’s nostrils flair, and you quickly give Vincent a nod. He was right, you don’t want him looking at you with nostrils like that. Thanks, you sign back. “I am the big man around here, you hear me?? I’m the one keepin’ y’all from starving to death or endin’ up on the goddamn streets- “
“Still soundin’ jealous, buddy… “This time it’s not Lester to rib on Bo, and you’re horrified to find that it’s the other guy. Lester’s friend. His under-the-covers pal. Both yours and Vincent’s eyes go wide as hell- does this kid have a death wish??? You both look to Bo with bated breath, waiting for the impending explosion. This is going to be bad-
Bo stands ahead of you, and you take notice of all the tension in his shoulders. Is he going to punch this guy?? Beat him to death?? Should you and Vincent take your leave now???
… Then, surprising everyone in the room, Bo turns to you. Your eyes go wide, mouth falling slightly open to ask him what going on- what have you done in all this- when he just grabs your hand and storms up the stairs with you. “Bo! What- Alright,” You guess you’re going to bed now, you sigh, then turn just in time to give the other guys a waive. “Goodnight Vincent! Lester! New Guy!”
When you get to your shared room and you close the door gently behind him, Bo lets go of you and sits down at the end of the bed you made this morning. He holds his head in his hands, fingers digging into soft hickory coloured hair.
Slowly you sit down next to him, a hand gently falling on his shoulder. “… are you okay- Oh!”
“I blame you.” He suddenly snaps, straightening up again and putting his hand son his knees, instead. Your jaw drops, outraged, and pull back your own hand away from him entirely.
“Me!??” Excuse him???
“Yeah- if it weren’t for you, trynna make me a better person or whatever bullshit you’re spinnin’ here- I woulda just killed that guy down there and I’d feel all better, now. Instead I feel like a trained fucken mutt.”
… Oh. Setting aside Bo’s harsh language, you… you’re alright, with the contents of what he’s saying- what he’s ‘blaming’ you, for. Alright… so… he thinks you’re making him better?? He didn’t kill Lester’s friend because of you??? That’s okay.
A little smile slips across your face, you can’t help it, as you let your hand land right back on his shoulder once again. He’s so cute- in a hot way. “… I’m sorry.”
“Good. Doesn’t help me none, though.” He’s still full of tension, and you get it. He’s used to just killing someone if he wants to, so the strength of will he’s showing now is impressive. You don’t blame him for being frustrated, especially if all he’s using is words.
Rubbing a hand up and down his back, you give an understanding nod. “Yeah, well… how about you take up a new hobby?? Maybe gardening could help?”
At this he gives you the most terrible look you’ve ever seen, and it actually make you giggle. “… Gardening?”
“It’ll tire you out- and you already gotten the wardrobe for it.”
“Shut up.”
“Okie.”
… After a moment of companionable silence between the two of you, Bo makings a ‘thinking’ sound. “Hmm… “A low, drawn-out hum that makes you feel concerned. If he’s thinking right now then it cannot be good. You can only hope that you aren’t apart of whatever the mean Sinclair is thinking. No such luck, though, as he turns and smirks at you in that devastatingly handsome way only can. For god’s sake… “I got an idea.”
… You deadpan. “What is it.”
~
“This is ridiculous, Bo.” You whine, giving the bed a little experimental bounce as you sit back on it- dead in the middle, for maximum bed squeaks.
Bo stands at the door, peering down the hall and waives his hand at you to be quiet. “Shush, now, I see ‘em comin’ up.”
“I want it put on record that I didn’t wanna do this.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. There they are… little dipshit and my brother… they’re goin’ into Lester’s room. Okay good.” The sound of a door closing signals that they are, in fact, in the room now and your humiliation can begin. Rolling you eyes, you wait for Bo to give you to okay. He closes your own door and gives you a thumbs up and lowering his voice now. “Go ahead.”
“Why don’t you start?” You whisper back, extremely reluctant as Bo sits down on the edge of the bed.
“Come on now, darlin’… everyone knows you’re the louder one between us.” He grins, like this all-too-funny, and you scowl back at him.
“I hate you.”
“Naw, you don’t… “
Rolling your eyes and looking straight into his eyes, you give another bounce so the bedsprings creak loudly under you- like, there? Happy? He makes a gesture that means ‘go on’, and you roll your eyes again; Starting a steady rhythm. Up and down, up and down. It would be fun, if it weren’t embarrassing.
Bo leans in close so you can feel his breath on your skin, and you’re tempted to waive him off. “And don’t you forget to make a little noise with your mouth, Y/N, we gotta make it believable here. We’re going for full authenticity.”
Glaring at him, which is definitely not as intimidating as you would like it to be- what, with the bouncing on the bed and all. “There is not a damn thing that’s authentic about this shenanigan, Bo Sinclair.” 
“Well, we aint gonna actually have loud sex right now- sorry, but listenin’ to my brother fuck today has ruined my appetite.”
“You and me both.” That, you can definitely agree with him on.
“Glad we’re in agreement- just keep bouncin’, I’ll do the bed frame.”
You facepalm, hiding your face as you bounce up and down, the squeaks from you and the bed frame knocking noise that Bo is making sounding just like when you and Bo actually ‘rock the bed’, as they say... You feel ridiculous. “What position are we even supposed to be in, right now??” You ask after a minute of this, calling quietly over your shoulder.
“Ehhh… I was thinkin’ cowgirl.” He shrugs, giving it a think.
“Checks out,” You sigh, thinking back to the noises that particular position tends to create. It is… something like this. Plus moaning, but you refuse to-
“Now moan, sweetheart. No ones gonna believe I’m fucken you if you don’t moan for me. Beg a little, too- be a good little fuck bunny.”
Gasping, you smack the covers and turn to him; Jaw dropped at his mischievous expression. “I am not going to fake moan for you, Bo! And who says no one will believe it?? You sure think a lotta yourself, don’t you??”
“Y/N, you and I both know I aint wrong.”
“No no no- hear me out, maybe we’re trying to be quiet? You have your hand over my mouth… that’s hot, right?”
“Not the goal here, doll. We want ‘em to hear us and be as uncomfortable as they’ve made us today.” ‘We’? What is this ‘we’? “Maybe another time, though… write it down, huh? We’ll get to it sometime.” When you narrow your eyes at him and squint, because as far as you’re concerned right this moment you will never be having sex again, Bo gives a chuckle at you. It’s a good sound, usually. The closest thing he has to genuine and sincere.
Right now though, letting his stupid handsome face and dumb nice smile get to you is the last thing you want- it’s quite hard to stay irritated at a person when you’re bouncing on the bed, though. Especially when they’re, admittedly, your favourite person. Even if they’re an asshole.
So you just give him the finger, then cross your arms and turn away; A half-hearted smile on your lips. “Ohhhhhh, you owe me so big, for this craziness.”
“Heh, I’m good for it.”
~
After an hour and a bit of that nonsense, you and Bo went to bed in the peaceful silence of no one having sex in the house, and woke up to the same thing. As you both get up and get showered and dressed, it stays that way. Bo’s in a particularly good mood because of it, giving you temple kisses here and there and making light hearted jokes, and it’s just… a nice, morning. Really nice. Did Bo’s ridiculous plan work?? Did your humiliation pay off??
Or… maybe it Vincent tying the two males in the other room up to chairs in the kitchen? you think, eyes blowing wide as you and Bo walk in on the jarring scene. Lester and his friend napping in chairs, ropes tied tightly around their chests and the back of their seats and an exhausted-looking Vincent at the sink- pointing a knife at the two of you.
Bo opens his mouth to ask what the hell is going on, but Vincent makes a ‘shut up’ gesture with the knife, and signs for the two of you to sit the hell down in two more seats.
You do as he says obediently, Bo taking the chair next to you, surprised at Vincent snapping like this. Do you blame him, though?? No not really, no-
Now, Vincent signs at you all; The knife still in his hand. I’m going to sleep for 7-12 hours. Can you people not fuck eachother for that time?? THANKS! Then he storms up to his room, to sleep unhindered by any sounds~
Bo gives but a chuckle, at the meltdown, and Vincent stamps hard on the floor above you all.
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cherryskyies · 9 months
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The slashers w an insecure s/o
Includes: Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt
slowly getting through this major writers block. my writing might be dog shit for a few posts but I'm forcing myself to work through it 🩷
Reader is female
Warnings: descriptions of sex (mostly bo section), praise, low self-esteem.
Masterlist || Navigation || ao3
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Vincent Sinclair
Vincent doesn't understand it. 
The moment he laid eyes on you he was in awe, knowing immediately he needed you alive. There wasn't enough wax in the world to sculpt you the ways he desired. 
So to see your hesitance at removing your clothing, he was scared you had changed your mind about him — the thought of you being insecure hadn't crossed his mind until you admitted it.
Your cheeks are hot from embarrassment, apologies slipping off your tongue as you dropped your head against his chest. "I'm sorry Vin, I've never liked my body."
He's quick to silently reassure you that he loves all of you, even the parts he hasn't seen with soft hands roaming your delicate body; finger tips gliding over your curves, stopping to lift your face to his – it's a promise.
Vincent will worship the very ground you walk on, making it his goal to show you your beauty through his gentle touches and precise sculptures. You will fill his work space.
Bo Sinclair
"What'dya mean you don't like your body? You've got the best piece of ass I've seen in my life!" Bo exclaims, genuinely confused at your insecurities. 
There is not a chance he'll fully understand, regardless of his own insecurities. Bo looks at you and sees the perfect woman — so what if you have some imperfections? He might as well be blind because he can't see them.
He is very gentle with you though, thoroughly fucking the insecurities away and praising you every chance he gets.
"Look how beautiful you are, cumming all over my cock," Bo praises, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror he's placed across the room. "So perfect."
Would definitely make you point out features you like on yourself before you can cum. Just seems like that kind of guy.
Thomas Hewitt
Thomas would be so heartbroken to hear you say you don't like your appearance. He'd think it's his fault for not appreciating you enough.
The first time you say it, you're both a nervous wreck. 
"It's not you, Tommy. I just.. I've never liked my appearance," you admit, eyes downcast while your hand holds his at the hem of your shirt.
He whines, nuzzling his face in your neck. It's not fair that you feel this way he thinks, you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. 
But he understands, having his own insecurities; so the two of you make a deal to leave the lights off and keep your shirts on until you are more comfortable — which doesn't take long with the way he worships your body. 
With Thomas your insecurities are a thing of the past. 
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wwwbestgoredotcom · 1 year
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Slashers with a s/o who owns a bakery
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Warnings / murder mentions, fluff, short for most of them, suggestive themes (no smut)
Characters included / Thomas Hewitt, Micheal Myers, Billy lenz, Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Candyman, Billy Loomis
Genre / fluff
Writing style / headcanons
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Thomas Hewitt :
This man LIVES for your baked goods
You and his mother always cook together and he eats that shit up
When he puts you in his lap and you feed him cupcakes or spoonfuls of cake, he never let's you get up from his lap man
(He doesn't care how heavy you are, you are sitting on his lap)
Loves to cook with you
He'd be so greatful if help pay for their needs or feed them using your money
Scratch that bro he'd be BEYOND greatfull
Bandages you up when you burn or hurt yourself while baking
Micheal Myers :
Stands over you just watching you bake
Pushes the spoon away if you try to feed him
But after a couple tries he just accepts it at that point
Can't cook for the life of him
Won't admit it but he loves when you cook for him
Like for his birthday or a special occasion
Looks at you from outside of your shop window
(And nobody sees him for some reason??)
He got blood in batter of some cookies and he learned to never do that again
Billy Lenz :
Nah cuz this guy has the BIGGEST sweet tooth EVER
Begs you to make him sweets
Just pretend here he gets out of the attic
He sits on your lap and makes you feed him
Sits at your job all day until you leave (with him)
He sits on the counter in the kitchen and watches you bake
Gets hurt more than you when you accidently burn yourself
He compares your "sweetness" to your desserts
Ofc he makes it dirty
He steals sweets from you and your bakery all the time
Jason Voorhees :
He and his mom love your cooking so much
You two feed eachother all the time
Cupcakes are his favorite
In the au, your bakery is near the woods you two live in
He doesn't like you going away but he won't complain
Insists on helping you with the dishes after you're done baking
Hugs you from behind when you bake
He would help but he thinks he'll mess it up if he does
After stressing over the trespassers, the only thing that can calm him done is your baking
Bo Sinclair :
He goes to your job and starts flirting with you as if you two aren't dating
Like Billy, he also makes it dirty
"'Stead of 'em pastries ya make everyday, how 'bout I have you fer dessert 'is time" along with a wink
Unlike the others, he laughs at you when you hurt yourself
Then when you cry he actually starts to care
Buys you the products you need
"Why're ya makin' another cake? Ya a'ready got enough in tha back" also followed by a wink and an ass slap
Like I said, makes it dirty
He overall loves you baking
Candyman :
In this au, he lives with you and not in a mirror
Helps you bake everytime
For your birthdays and other occasions, he bakes instead of you
While you two wait for whatever dessert you're making to bake, he showers you in kisses, hugs, and slow dances with you
Praises you every time
If you wear an apron, he ties it for you and when he's done he gives you a neck kiss
Thinks his bees and hook get in the way when you're cooking but you shut that down pretty quickly
He feeds you and kisses you after each bite
Billy Loomis :
He smugges some ingredients (cream, frosting, etc) on your face
He does it so he can kiss/lick it off of you
Visits you at your job
Mainly visits you when it's near your break time
Last time he helped you bake, he burnt the dessert so uh never again
He just sits there lookin pretty watching you bake
One time for his birthday you made him a horror themed cake and when you cut it, red jam spills out the center like blood
He fell in love with you that same day
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vikkirosko · 5 months
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🧢 Bo Sinclair x Reader Oneshot Beauregard 🧰
Bo had just come home where your whole little family lived when he heard you giggling. When he looked into the kitchen, he saw you and Lester. His brother came home earlier and you were clearly chatting sweetly about something. When you noticed your boyfriend, the smile on your face became even wider, as if he was the cause of your laughter.
"You seem to be having a really good time here"
"Lester was just telling me about the times when you were kids"
You and Lester giggled again. Bo raised an eyebrow, not understanding what exactly his brother could have said that made you so amused, but neither you nor Lester were in a hurry to tell him about it. You got up from the table and approached Bo with a smile.
"Sit down at the table, there will be dinner soon, and I'll go get Vincent"
"Of course, baby"
You kissed him on the cheek and headed to the museum, knowing that Vincent was there.
"Baby! When you go back, grab a beer from the refrigerator in my auto repair shop!"
"Of course, Beauregard!"
You ran away laughing, and Bo froze. It took him a few seconds to realize exactly what his brother had told you.
"Lester, come here..."
Bo heard his brother quickly running out of the kitchen, laughing and not wanting to listen to his displeasure. He just sighed heavily at this, realizing that sooner or later you would have found out his full name. He was waiting for you to come back with Vincent, knowing that his full name wasn't the reason he had to worry.
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slasherstories123 · 7 months
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Think you can write where The female S/O dates Bo Sinclair, while being aware that Vincent was mesmerized by his twin brother's S/O girlfriend? She was sweet and kind to Vincent, but when she saw how cruel and heartless Bo was with his brother, and calling him a freak. When she stood up to Bo, he breaks up with her. Then near the end that Vincent actually gets a chance with the S/O that he loved. The S/O would be very complementive of his artwork
New beginning
Word count: 1.1k
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Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @mrs-heelshire @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @beel-mcburger @slasherscrybaby @sadskies @bunnysenpai31 @emychan @pink-apollo @misscaller06 @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @charliedawn
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You and Bo have been dating only for a few months, but you paid attention to his twin's eyes in the back. Always watching, practically mesmerized by you. He wanted you, but Bo got to you instead, even then, you still treated Vincent the same. Always tending to his wounds during a bad fight with a victim and just caring for him in general. You always thought they were the complete opposite on many levels. You didn’t mind, until Bo would become more cold hearted towards his own brother. Always calling him names and makes him feel more bad than he already does. It pained you to see him like this, but you never said anything,not feeling like getting yelled at, secretly comforting Vincent when you had the chance. You never wanted him to feel bad, even apologizing for Bo’s actions to the man.
Vincent forgave you, always telling you it’s not your fault, that’s just how he is, and he’ll always be like that. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. How can he be so flirty towards you but turn around and treat his brother like trash. His family. You hated it, even if you did try to talk about it he’d blow a fuse thinking you’re just taking his side. Which is half true. Vincent always works hard in taking care of victims, always cooped up in the basement and getting hurt when victims come, he deserves to be treated fairly, just like Bo.
One night, you’ve had enough. Bo's loud voice nearly shook the house as he yelled at his brother for coming back home late.It was bad enough he was in a bad mood due to a victim hurting his arm. You rubbed your temple to try and calm yourself down, hating it when he yelled, wondering how he doesn’t get sore throats. Each word that came out of his mouth was painful, even you could feel it, seeing Vincent sulk his head in shame.
The next words that came out of his mouth made you freeze. “You’re nothing but a freak! Get the hell out of my sight!” You stood up from your chair and slapped Bo dead in his face, causing his baseball cap to fall off. The slap caught the attention of both men. He looked at you in shock, but it quickly turned into anger. “The hell you do that for?” He yelled.
Even Vincent was shocked himself, but still stayed in the near corner. “Are you fucking serious Bo? That’s your brother! Your TWIN brother! Besides Lester and I, he’s all you have! You can’t treat him like dirt!” The angry man turned to you, yelling at you now. Vincent wanted to stay, but he decided not to, slowly sliding away and going down to his basement. You kept going at each other's throats, almost like a yelling contest, seeing who could be louder. You stood up for Vincent until the end, cursing at bo, saying how horrible of a brother he is to Vincent.
“He’s your BROTHER Bo!”
“Yeah? So what if the freaks my brother?”
“Your words can affect him! Don’t you realize that?!”
“Well if you like the freak so bad then go be with him then! This stupid relationship is over!”
He yelled in your face before storming off, door slamming behind him. You leaned against the table. Sitting down in the chair, body shaking due to too many emotions now coming at you: Anger, sadness, guilt, remorse. You had your face in your arms, tears of frustration built up in your eyes. Bo’s words cut deep, even to you, and he barely said anything to you, but it still hurt, hurts to know that he broke up with you because you decided to stick up for Vincent, it meant nothing,just wanting him to treat his brother fairley, like he’s a human being.
You never questioned why Vincent wears his mask, but you know it’s something personal and that Bo of all people should respect that, but he didn’t, and now you’re caught in this mess. You don’t regret sticking up for him though. It was worth it. But now you’d slowly have to put yourself back together. Despite Bo being a jerk to his brother.. He was still somewhat charming, but you still chose him, Vincent always watched you from afar, admired you, sometimes you think he was sad that you chose Bo over him. Sometimes, you even wonder what you see in him to make you fall in love with him. A soft tap of a shoulder caused you to flinch, picking your head up, it was just Vincent. He had a sketchbook in his hands. Sitting by you, he saw a tear escape your eyes. Slowly raising his hand to wipe it away, you smiled at the gesture.
“I’m.. so sorry you had to hear that..” The man shook his head in response, gently taking your hand with his soft ones. Guiding you to his basement, you didn’t have the strength to even say no. Letting him guide you to his area. It was clean, everything organized. The smell of vanilla candles filled the air, it was comforting. You sat in a chair next to an empty one where he sits by his desk. Vincent eventually sat down. Fiddling with a few pages with the sketchbook. He turned to a certain one, you leaned by his shoulder to look. It was you.
You knew Vincent was good with art, but you never knew how good he can look at your features in his drawings. Even showing little dates of when the art was completed. You were mesmerized yourself, it probably took him hours to make them, realizing that he had thoughts of you. He always had. Despite you being with Bo he stood around. He let you look, there were times you were completely doing nothing, he still drew you like you were the most perfect woman he’s ever laid eyes on. Not missing any sort of detail in your features.
It made you feel a certain way, despite you crying your eyes out a few minutes ago. “Thank you..Vincent. I love it. I love them all. You’re always so talented..” He loved it when you complimented his work, since he works so hard on them. You can’t help but admire his work, the time and effort he puts into each drawing, each sculpture, each painting, but he drew you, his sketchbook was filled with you. You felt at peace down in the basement with him, you always did, but this time it was different.
You felt comforted. Safe. Resting your head on his shoulder, feeling his hand hold yours, rubbing the back of it. Maybe being with Vincent was the best choice from the beginning. You’ll be happier with the man. A new beginning.
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zapreportsblog · 6 months
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❝forgotten memories❞
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✭ pairing : Lester Sinclair x reader x Bo Sinclair x Vincent Sinclair
✭ fandom : slashers
✭ summary : whiles out hunting Lester comes across a beaten and battered young lady in serious need of medical attention so what does he do? He takes the little lass back to his hometown to get treated by his brothers, but she happens to wake up and at first they expect her to freak out since she’s surrounded by three men but the only thing on her mind is why can’t she remember anything but her name
✭ authors note : art work by @kasiawoe found it on Pinterest also this was requested by @shadowraven-02 you sent this in to @fandomnationwhore a while back and I’m here to fulfill it since I’ve taken over doing some of their top requests :) if at any moment you wish to be untagged, do inform me as I have no problem with it I just thought I’d tag you and let you read what you sent in
✭ slasher masterlist
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Lester Sinclair had always found solace in the woods. The dense canopy of trees, the gentle rustling of leaves, and the distant calls of woodland creatures were a symphony of tranquility. It was his sanctuary, a place where he could escape the demands of his hectic life and find a sense of peace.
On this crisp autumn morning, with the sun barely peeking over the horizon, Lester set out for a hunting expedition. He carried his rifle with practiced ease, each step taken with a careful consideration of his surroundings. His brothers, Bo and Vincent, would join him later, but for now, he relished the solitude.
As he ventured deeper into the forest, Lester's keen eyes caught sight of something unusual amidst the fallen leaves. There, sprawled on the ground, was an unconscious young woman. Her clothes were torn, and her face was marred by a bleeding wound on her forehead. It was a sight that sent a jolt of concern through Lester.
Kneeling beside her, he carefully examined her condition. She was still breathing, albeit shallowly, which was a relief. Gently, he brushed her hair away from her face, revealing her pale complexion. Concern etched his features as he noticed the deep bruises marring her arms and legs. It was clear that she had been through some kind of ordeal.
Lester's instinct to help kicked in immediately. He knew he couldn't leave her here, injured and alone in the woods. Carefully, he reached into her pocket and found her wallet. Opening it, he discovered her identification. Her name was (Y/N), a medical student still in college.
With determination in his eyes, Lester decided to take action. He scooped her fragile form into his arms, cradling her gently. She was surprisingly light, making it easier for him to carry her. As he began to make his way back to his pickup truck, he couldn't help but wonder how she had ended up in such a dire situation.
The journey back to his home felt like an eternity, the forest passing by in a blur of green and brown. Lester's mind raced with questions, but his primary focus was ensuring (Y/N)'s safety. He knew his brothers would be just as concerned as he was when they saw her.
When he finally reached the old, rustic house that he shared with Bo and Vincent, Lester carefully carried (Y/N) inside. The warmth of the living room enveloped them, a stark contrast to the cool autumn air outside. With great care, he laid her down on the couch, his worry deepening as he took a closer look at her injuries.
Bo had been planning to join Lester for the hunting trip, but he arrived later than expected. He pushed open the creaky front door of their rustic home, a cheerful greeting on his lips. "Lester, you out here, buddy?" he called, stepping into the warm and cozy living room.
His voice trailed off when he laid eyes on the unexpected scene before him. His gaze fixed on the unconscious girl lying on the couch, her disheveled appearance a stark contrast to the familiar surroundings.
"Who the hell is she?" Bo blurted out, his voice tinged with some kind of emotion though Lester wasn’t sure what.
Lester turned toward his brother, his eyes filled with a mixture of worry and confusion. "I found her out back in the woods," he explained, "She was unconscious, and there are bruises on her, and she had this nasty wound on her forehead."
Just as their argument started to brew, the connection between the twins kicked in. Vincent, who had been working away in the basement workshop, felt Bo's growing frustration through their twin link. He abandoned his tools and made his way upstairs, his face a mask of concern. He signed, asking if everything was alright.
Bo's agitation was clear in his voice as he responded to Vincent's silent inquiry. "No, Lester here is putting us all in danger."
Lester frowned at Bo's accusation. "How am I putting us in danger?" he retorted, his voice rising in frustration.
Their argument continued, voices escalating, as neither brother noticed the subtle movement on the couch. (Y/N) began to stir, her eyelids fluttering open. She blinked in confusion, disoriented by her surroundings and the voices she heard. Her vision was blurry at first, but gradually, the room came into focus.
Vincent, who had been watching the argument unfold, suddenly noticed her awakening. He took a step back, positioning himself between Bo and the girl, his curiosity piqued. He wanted to observe her reaction before drawing attention to her presence.
As (Y/N) began to regain consciousness, she felt a dull ache in her head, which sent a wince across her features. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the room, and as she sat up, she couldn't help but notice the three men now staring at her. Their expressions ranged from concern to curiosity, and she blinked owlishly at them, her confusion evident.
"Where am I?" she asked, her voice slightly shaky.
Lester, the one who had found her, stepped closer and replied, "You're in my home. We found you in the woods unconscious, and you had some injuries, so we brought you here."
(Y/N) furrowed her brow, trying to piece together the events leading to this moment. "How did I get here?" she wondered aloud.
Bo, ever the standoffish one, folded his arms and said, "That's exactly what I'd like to know too."
Vincent, who had been observing silently, stepped forward and signed a question, his hands gracefully moving through the air. However, (Y/N) was caught off guard by the unfamiliar gesture and simply responded with a confused "Huh?"
Lester quickly intervened, introducing his brother. "That's Vincent," he explained, "He was just asking if you're okay."
Still somewhat disoriented, (Y/N) nodded uncertainly. "I think so?" She winced again, a hand gingerly touching the bandage on her forehead. It was clear she had many questions, but her priority was trying to make sense of the situation and her surroundings.
“So how did you get out there.” Lester asks, he watches her brows clench and that’s when his concern deepened as he watched (Y/N) struggle to recall her recent past. He leaned closer and gently asked, "I mean do you remember how you ended up out here in the woods? You're pretty far from town."
(Y/N) closed her eyes, trying to summon any memories that could explain her current situation. However, her efforts were in vain, and her frustration grew as she shook her head, her voice trembling as she admitted, "No, I don't remember."
Bo, always quick with a sarcastic remark, couldn't resist but quip, "Does she even know anything?"
(Y/N), taking Bo's question more seriously than intended, felt panic start to creep in. She tried to think back to her life, her home, her studies, but everything seemed to be shrouded in darkness, leaving only her name as a lone beacon of familiarity. Tears welled up in her eyes as the realization sank in that she couldn't recall anything else.
Vincent, noticing (Y/N)'s distress, reacted impulsively. He smacked Bo on the arm and then swiftly signed at him, "Look, you made her cry."
Bo's temper flared. "I ain't do a goddamn thing to that girl!" he retorted, defensive.
Lester, always the voice of reason among the brothers, interjected firmly, "Enough, you two! We need to help her, not argue." He moved closer to (Y/N) and spoke in a soothing tone. "Hey, it's okay. We'll figure this out together. Take a deep breath."
He reached out to offer her a comforting hand on her shoulder, hoping to ease her panic and bring some clarity to the situation.
Lester gently held (Y/N) in his arms, offering her a comforting embrace as she cried out her fear and confusion. His heart went out to her as he whispered soothing words. "It's okay, (Y/N), you're safe here. Everything's going to be alright. This is just a hiccup in the road. You'll remember, I'm sure of it."
She clung to his words, her sobs gradually subsiding. In his arms, she found a flicker of solace amidst the storm of her lost memories and newfound uncertainty.
Meanwhile, Bo's frustration had not subsided. He was growing increasingly impatient and wary of the stranger in their midst. He couldn't shake the feeling that (Y/N) was a threat, not just to Ambrose, but to all of them.
In the quiet of the kitchen, Bo took Lester and Vincent aside, his tone hushed but determined. "We need to get rid of her," he declared, his voice filled with urgency.
Lester frowned deeply, appalled by his brother's suggestion. "Bo, we can't just... get rid of her. She's clearly in trouble, and we need to help her."
Bo's eyes narrowed, his frustration boiling over. "She's a danger to Ambrose, and she's a danger to us all. We don't know who she is or what happened to her. We can't trust her."
Vincent, ever the voice of empathy and caution, hesitated. He signed his thoughts, "We need to be careful, but killing her? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
Bo was unwavering. "Think about it, Lester. We have no idea who she is or what she's involved in. We can't risk our safety, or Ambrose's."
Lester shook his head firmly. "No, Bo. I won't do it. We'll help her, keep her safe until she remembers. We can't resort to violence."
The tension in the kitchen grew palpable, as the three brothers faced a difficult decision that would shape their future and the fate of the mysterious (Y/N).
Bo's frustration reached its peak, and he reluctantly conceded. "Fine," he grumbled, his jaw clenched. "But she's your responsibility, Lester."
With those words, Bo turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen, the door slamming shut behind him. Vincent, sensing his twin's anger and knowing that arguing further would only escalate the situation, hurriedly followed, hoping to calm Bo down and find some common ground.
Lester was left alone in the kitchen, his thoughts swirling as he watched his brothers leave. He knew that taking care of (Y/N) was a responsibility he was willing to shoulder, even if it meant facing uncertainty and danger. She needed their help, and he was determined to be there for her, no matter what challenges lay ahead.
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spookychick78 · 10 months
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Bo Sinclair One Shot
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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."
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f1nalboys · 1 year
Text
Bedside Vigil - Bo Sinclair
Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader
a silly little dark bo fic w sorta same premise as my lester fic. icky yucky evil manipulative bo my beloved!!! also sorta eh on this so lmk if you guys liked this!
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WORD COUNT: 1324
WARNINGS: whump, character death, murder, snuff photo mention, full on stockholm syndrome. reader no longer remembers life without bo or ambrose, reader 'loves' bo, throat slitting, brief mentions of being strapped to the chair in the basement in the past, mention of reader and bo having sex but dub-con since the predicament they're in just in case, violence, manipulative and sadistic bo, proofread but probably missed something so sorryyyy <3 enjoy this sick freak
You loved Bo’s bedroom the more time you got to spend in it. It wasn’t comfortable, not like the one you had back home, the one you can’t really remember anymore, but it was worlds away from the suffocating room in the basement of the garage that had been your home for the last month. Maybe it was longer, you still weren’t sure. You had asked Bo once, just once, on how long it had been since you had been in the town with him and he had shaken his head. “Don’t really want to know that, now do you, darlin’?” 
You didn’t.
The town, every structure, every car, every blade of overgrown grass and every overturned pebble, all of it was stuck in the past. It showed signs of life from two decades ago as if the rapture had happened and the entire town had been taken, sent up to heaven with the fanfare cracking the foundation of what was left. Except for Bo. 
Bo was here and now. He was all around you, had been from the second you had stepped foot into the ghost town and maybe even before then, and you couldn’t think of anything you’d want more. You had earned his affection, earned the right to be in his bed the way you had been this last week. You had softened the hand of the beast who had trapped you and now you weren’t trapped anymore and you were in love with the Beast and he was in love with you and you couldn't remember why you had felt trapped in the first place.
“The nails gonna fall out soon.” You say and you hear Bo grunt in acknowledgement from the bathroom across the hall. Glancing away from the candlestick you look over towards the bedroom door which was cracked open. When Bo wasn’t beside you, you felt like you were suffocating. He had saved you in a way. Though in the beginning you had felt trapped, had spit and screamed and cried each time he so much as stepped foot near you, now you understood that he had done what he had to to save you, to mold you into the person you were meant to be. His.
When he brought you into the bedroom last week after feeding you, kissing you, bathing you, he had shown you the candles. “The nails are ta’ keep track of the time,” He had said when he had settled you into the bed with him, the two of you laying on your side, his hips flexing absentmindedly against you as he whispered into your ear. “The last nail falls out and it means you,” He kisses your temple and you sigh, pushing your hips back into his. “Are dead.”
You had laughed, just a little giggle at the thought of a nail falling signifying your end, and the loose grip he had on your hip had gotten tighter and suddenly you feel like you’re strapped to that chair again and you’re feeling scared, so fucking scared, and all you can do is squeak out a weak “I don’t want that.” It worked. His grip loosened once more and he’s kissing your temple and nuzzling into your neck. 
“Course you don’t. Cause you wanna be good for me, right?” You nod and that night you are good for him, an active participant now that you weren’t bound. Bo relished in the attention you gave him from that night on, always on his heel, asking what he needed or wanted from you. If he had told you to take that shotgun off the wall or the knife out of his belt and use it on yourself, you would’ve with a smile on his face and asked if you had done okay.
He walks into the bedroom finally, boxers and a white t-shirt on, and you repeat yourself. “The nails gonna fall out soon.” 
“I know, darlin’. Scared imma let it?” He teases and you shake your head no quickly. You knew he wouldn’t. It felt like you knew Bo better than yourself these days. He had asked you a few days ago what you used to do back then, before Ambrose, and it had taken you a little bit to remember what life was like. As far as you were concerned, there was no point in time before Ambrose. Before Bo.
He crawls into bed on top of you and you grin, sinking down a bit so he was looking down at you with a grin. Neither of you say anything for a moment. You stare into his blue eyes, wondering how they had ever sent anything other than a shiver of love down your spine. Clink. Your head turns and the nail is sideways on the dish below it, flame still going. 
He sighs. “Shit,” He mutters, getting off of you and standing, blowing the candle out. The room is dark and you wait for him to get back into bed with you but he doesn’t. His shadow is darker, a figure against the wall, the kinds you used to see down in the basement with you. A ghost. “Sorry, baby.” He turns the lamp on and you blink, trying to register the scene in front of you. He stood with a knife in his hand, staring down at you like a wounded animal in a trap. Staring down at you with pity.
“Bo?” You ask and your voice doesn’t sound like your own. “What’re you doing?”
“Nail fell out. You know what that means.”
“But you don’t have to.” 
He shakes his head, getting back into bed with you, the air between the two of you thick. You were scared. He can feel you shaking underneath him but you won’t look away, won’t even spare a glance at the knife held in his hand. “Are you scared, sweetheart?” He whispers and you hesitate, choosing to shake your head no despite it being a lie. “No? Not scared I’ll do it?”
“I trust you.”
“That’s stupid.” The knife is pressed against your throat and he’s staring down at you with the same look he had given you in the beginning, one of disgust, and yet you don’t move. When you swallow, the blade digs into your skin just a little. “I could do it right now. Slit your throat, let your blood soak into my mattress, watch the life drain out of your eyes. Might even take a photo of it.”
“You could.”
“Most people would be beggin’ for me not to hurt them, you know that?”
“I trust you.” You reiterate and Bo scoffs, sitting up, still straddling you. The knife is moved away from your throat and you suck in a breath. You did trust him. You loved him and he loved you. He wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that. He could threaten you, he could hit you, he could cut you, but he’d never hurt you, never get rid of you. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, you had crawled your way under his skin and latched onto his very being. You wouldn’t leave, even if he did kill you.
Bo stares down at you with a curious look, lips curving into a sadistic grin. “Too bad. I like the beggin’.” 
And then the knife is sliding across your throat and Bo’s smile is the last thing you see as you gurgle, blood pouring from your neck, soaking into the bedsheets, a visceral splatter across him and the wall. 
He makes sure to take a photo of you like this, blood surrounding you like a broken halo, and he places the photo on his side table, pressed against the still smoldering candle stick. There it would sit until he found someone new and then it would be placed into his drawer alongside the dozens of others. You were right; you wouldn’t leave, even if he killed you.
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Take Care Of You
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a/n: so i feel like fucking death right now and i just want bo so here's a little blurb😊 also, going to start working on requests again tomorrow :) (they're coming i swear)
pairing: bo x gn!reader
summary: in which bo takes care of you when you're sick, despite your insistence that you're fine
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Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed, attempting to stand up. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you. You were fine yesterday.
After a moment, you finally managed to stand up, your head pounding and your legs trembling beneath you. You almost considered calling for Bo, but you were sure this was just a momentary wobble. You'd probably be fine in an hour or two.
"Come on." You whispered to yourself, as though that would somehow make this any better. "You're fine."
When you finally made it out of the bedroom, you found yourself at a disadvantage as you looked down at the staircase. You already felt like you were about to collapse and that was just walking on level flooring. You had no idea how you were going to survive the trip down the stairs.
In the end, you decided it'd be best if you just slid down on your ass. So you carefully lowered yourself to the ground, taking a small breath before pushing yourself forward. God, this was embarrassing.
"What're you doing?" Bo's voice suddenly sounded from the bottom of the stairs.
You'd only made it about halfway down before he'd spotted you.
You sighed. "Nothing."
"Sure looks like nothin'." He said, pausing a moment as he took in the sight of your pale face. "Are you alright?"
"Mhm." You mumbled, holding your head in your hands as you sat there hunched over. God, your head was pounding. "Just...I'll be fine in a minute."
You heard him laugh then, before you heard the sound of his footsteps coming up the stairs. "Darlin', we both know that ain't true."
You didn't even fight him as his arm curled under your knees, his hand at your back as he picked you up off the floor.
"I'm fine." You continued to tell him, although the evidence would suggest otherwise.
The walk back to the bedroom wasn't long but each step that Bo took seemed to spark a new pain in your body, making the trip seem too long.
You pressed your face into his shoulder in an attempt to dull the painful throbbing of your head, and you could feel yourself coming close to accepting that you were in fact not fine.
Bo gently set you down on the bed, leaving the room momentarily to get you a glass of water. And when he returned, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside you, concern evident in his eyes as he watched you.
"You still fine?" He asked jokingly.
You could only offer him a groan as you squeezed your eyes shut, rolling over onto your side.
"You at least gonna let me take care of you?"
"Mhm." You answered, smiling at him as you reached out to stroke your fingers along his leg. "You're a lot nicer when I'm sick."
"Well don't get used to it."
"Okay." You muttered, pressing your face into the pillows as you felt yourself becoming sleepier.
But just as you were about to drift off, you heard him stand up, before feeling the bed dip behind you, the weight of Bo's chest appearing at your back.
You smiled when you felt him sling his arm over your body, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on your stomach.
Maybe you should've been sick more often.
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[Main Masterlist]
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fandom-imagines · 6 months
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Bo Sinclair was rude, anybody that knew him was aware of that fact. He was blunt, straightforward, and often times a pure asshole, so as Y/N poured out her feelings to him, Bo didn’t understand why.
Why would she like him? Vincent would be so much better suited for her, or even Lester! She was clearly making the wrong choice, yet he didn’t exactly want her to stop; he cared for her, even if he was yet to admit that to himself.
“You’re making a mistake,” Bo’s rough voice stated as she smiled at his frozen form. “I’m not right for you, you know this.”
The girl in front of him simply shrugged. “Maybe you’re right, Bo, but I can’t find it in me to care. I love you.”
Bo, who stood there in silence, tried his best to form any words, but nothing would come out. Perhaps that was the moment he realised his true feelings for her, or maybe not, he would never know, but as he leaned to connect their lips, he simply knew that it was right. That her heart had made the right choice, even if he doubted it.
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skylarsblue · 2 years
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Can I request a reader Who IS deaf or blind and she have just met Bo by stopping accidently by Ambrose?
Im curious what kind of relationship would have those two and how It would develops.
~Regards
(I’m gonna be using Y/N despite my hatred for it, it’s just easier to fit into my writing style. Also, I kinda got wrapped up in this, I hope it’s alright still.)
Content Warning: Discussion of murder and asking for a fanbelt during a funeral.
Y/N tapped the cane on the dirt road she walked on. “Of course they left me. Bunch of...mmph.” She stopped herself from cursing as she felt the ground with the cane. Her cousin had essentially been forced to bring her with a group of friends, her cousins’ mother insisting on such. Margret, Y/N’s cousin, was always a bit annoyed by her presence, especially after Y/N had come to live with them. To put it bluntly, Margret treated her like a burden, the entire group did. Y/N said nothing about it. It wouldn’t have helped. They’d stopped off the side of the road when the sun was going down. Camping out seemed like a good idea, that was, until Y/N woke up. She had a new message on her Nokia, her cousin saying they had to find a town, but they didn’t want to wake her up. The text to speech describing a smiley face was more mocking than anything. So, she was left walking down a dirt road in the hot Louisiana sun, with only her dress, phone, and cane.
Y/N stopped when she felt her cane slide off rocks and she heard the sound of water. She lifted the cane up and tapped around a bit more. In the water was a stone, she lifted her sundress skirt and attempted to step on it. She felt around again, sighing when she managed to find another stone. The young woman took things slow in order to avoid slipping. She did a little jump once she felt the road again, mentally patting herself on the back for not getting her shoes wet. Y/N continued walking. On the bright side, wherever she was, it sounded rather peaceful. Clearly surrounded by trees, birds made sound and she could hear the hum of bugs in the heat, rustling of leaves in the slight breeze. It was a lot nicer to hear than the loud laughter of people who wanted nothing to do with her. While Margret was somewhat subtle with her discomfort with Y/N, her friends weren’t. They’d mutter and whisper little jokes and insults while she was near by. As if she couldn’t hear them. It wasn’t uncommon to Y/N, unfortunately. Typically, what she got was either pity or softly spoken insults. People would either snicker off to the side or talk to her like she was a frightened rabbit.
Being visually impaired wasn’t great, sure. It made a lot of things difficult, admittedly. Especially since the world wasn’t necessarily catered to the disabled. Finding things with braille writing was hard and having to find things based on textiles or audible sounds could prove difficult in certain situations. However, Y/N managed fine. She could handle herself fairly well, only struggling every once & awhile. So when people spoke to her like she was something fragile and easily frightened, it bothered her. But she tended to hold her tongue. She didn’t want to rock a boat when it wouldn’t fix anything, it was easier to brush it off most times.
The woman felt the ground begin to smooth out slightly. She could determine it was no longer dirt road and more like pavement now, old pavement though. She tapped a bit on the ground before she gasped at the feeling of something cold hitting the exposed part of her leg. She tilted her head down, listening for a give away. A jingle of metal and the light tap of claws. “Hello?” Then the sound of sniffing, the feeling of a lick to her hand. “Oh…oh hello, goodness you scared me. Who might you be.” She spoke softly, smiling a bit as she attempted to pet the animal. It allowed her too, leaning into her palm. Short but soft fur, floppy ears. There were specific dips in the face and the muzzle was a dead give away. “Oh I know this face. You’re a pit bull, huh? You a cute little doggie, hm?” Y/N’s voice picked up a little in pitch. She could hear the dog get more excited as it pressed its nose to the back of her hand.
Y/N crouched down and felt for the collar. She traced her fingers to the tags. “Okay….that’s a J. O. M? No, no that’s an N, S, E, annnd a Y. Jonesy? Is that your name, honey?” She laughed when the dog let out a low trill, something that could be confused for a growl. “Well that’s a lovely name. Say, could you lead me a little? I’ve never been here.” Y/N doubted the dog could really understand her, but she could use the jingle of the dog tags to lead her a little. It would help at least a little. So, when the dog walked forward, she followed, using her cane to keep track of the ground. Though she couldn’t see any of it, Y/N had entered a town, a small one. Charming, likely built to only hold a couple hundred people. There was the faint sound of church music, and as she moved closer, she heard the chatter of people. However, it made her frown when she could pick out her cousin’s boyfriend. Having no sight made a lot of her other senses more intense, her hearing being the main one she relied on. So, even though she was probably a few yard away still, she could hear what they said. Comforted by the presence of her new puppy friend.
“Look man, we really didn’t mean to interrupt, we didn’t know there was a funeral going on.” The young man said. Margret’s best friend, Destiny gasped quietly. “Guys, Margret’s cousin’s here.” She whispered quickly. “How the fuck did she manage- okay. Just, shh, be quiet.” Margret muttered back.
Y/N sighed to herself and stopped a few feet away. Margret’s boyfriend, William, cleared his throat awkwardly. “Basically, we found out we need something in our engine and our fan belt broke.” He said. Y/N frowned and rested both her hands on the end of the cane. “A fanbelt? Seriously? You interrupt a funeral for a fuckin’ fanbelt?” A new voice, masculine with a thick southern accent hit Y/N’s ears. It was pleasing but she could hear his frustration, understandable. She’d be pissed too if someone cut into a funeral because they needed something that could’ve waited. “We really didn’t mean too. We just…wanted to get it quickly, so we wouldn’t be leaving my cousin for too long.” Margret motioned awkwardly to the woman dressed in a sundress, a black & white dog at her side. “You see, she’s blind, and we didn’t want her to-“
“I’m blind and I waltzed my way down a dirt road for miles because you all left me. And I’m fine. For the sake of not making yourself look worse, don’t try and explain why you had a reason for interrupting a funeral.” Y/N sighed tiredly. “Sir, uh, wherever you are. I apologize for the intrusion they made. Please, by all means, take your time in the church. It’s important. More so than a fan belt.” She explained to the stranger patiently, hearing them sigh. “Don’ worry bout it. I’ll finish up here and I’ll meet y’all by the station.” He said. The group of young adults muttered awkward thank yous and apologies as the stranger walked back to the church. Y/N could feel eyes on her after the church door closed again. “We were gonna come back.” Destiny spoke. “Mhm.” Y/N replied lazily. “Let’s just go to the station and wait for the dude. If we piss him off he’ll probably rack up the bill a shit ton.” William replied. Y/N listened for the direction of their steps before she followed. She smiled to herself when she read the jingle of Jonesy’s dog tag. Glad the pup was still following her.
When the group was at the station, Y/N felt around and felt the gasp pumps. She sat down beside them in the shade. She could hear Margret, Destiny, William, and the other two college kids speak to each other around the station. She frowned when the sound of a bell gave away the fact one of them opened the station door. Going in without permission from the owner. Y/N felt Jonesy’s head rest in her lap, she stroked the dog’s ears gently. “These kids have no idea what manners are.” She whispered to the dog. It was about thirty minutes around waiting, much to the dismay of the group. Aaron & Dustin, the other two, had decided to break off and explore while the other three waited for the stranger to come back. Eventually, Destiny decided to follow them. Going to look at some ‘House of Wax’ that was supposed to be a tourist trap. Y/N remained quiet as Margret & William complained and flirted with each other, petting Jonesy in quiet. She managed to find peace in the sound of the breeze, the small snorts from the dog in her lap, and the continuous hum of cicadas. Despite the occasional snide comment William made at her expense. Even if it weren’t for that, Y/N would still call him an asshole, a jock type that peaked in high school, a cliché really.
“I see you found my dog.”
Y/N’s head tipped up at the sound of the stranger’s voice. That southern drawl causing a stutter in her heartbeat, more than she’d like to admit. “Oh, are they yours? They found me on the edge of the town. Felt the tag, I like the name Jonesy. It’s cute. They’re a pitbull, aren’t they?” She asked. The man chuckled. She hummed when he didn’t speak. “If you’re nodding, I can’t tell.” She said with a small smile. “Oh, uh, right. Yeah she’s a pit.” The woman chuckled under her breath at his stutter in confidence. “Don’t worry, people tend to nod as an answer on reflex, they don’t really think about it.” She heard him hum and step closer, then the shuffle of fabric. Probably crouching down to get closer to her. Y/N tended to speak softly with a bad habit of mumbling, he probably got closer to hear you better. “What’s your name, doll?” The pet name nearly made her squeak in surprise. She smiled instead and told him. “What’s yours?” “‘M Bo. Don’t ask what it’s short for, I won’t tell ya.” His response made her laugh again.
“Nice to meet you, Bo. I apologize again for the intrusion. My cousin Margret & her friends aren’t necessarily…considerate.” Y/N sighed. Bo adjusted his hat. “I picked up on that.” He replied. “Mind if I ask what they meant? Needin’ to get back to ya?” He watched her scoff and roll her irises. They were different, beautiful but fogged over. It was hard not to stare at them in fascination, though he was doing that with her entire face.
“Margret’s mother forced her to take me. They think I spend too much time in the house. I like being at home, cleaning & cooking in a familiar environment. Margret’s never necessarily liked me. She tries to keep it subtle but she fails miserably. Basically, I’m annoying. I’m a burden because I occasionally need someone to warn me about something in front of me so I don’t smack into it. Her friends don’t like me either. William’s the most blunt. This entire trip they’ve been whispering and gossiping about the fact I can’t see. I’m used to it, even if it’s upsetting.” Y/N took a breath before clearing her throat. “Anyway. We stopped to camp out because it was getting dark, when I woke up, they were gone. Margret at least had the courtesy to send me a message but that didn’t make me feel much better. So, I just started walking. Managed to find this place by chance.”
Bo’s brow furrowed. “They left ya because you’re blind?” He asked. Y/N shrugged. “Basically. I’m a burden to everyone because I need help every now and then, basically. It’s sooo fun.” She snorted. “I’m used to it. It’s more annoying than anything else.” Bo huffed. “I would be pissed off if I were you. Buncha asshole kids, if ya ask me. Where’s the rest of ‘em?” He asked. “Went snooping. Margret & William are in your station, because they’ve never heard of waiting. I overheard a little, apparent a guy gave them a tow and set their car into your garage. They said something about him being a “freak roadkill collector”. Which, again, assholes! Roadkill drivers are kinda necessary to keep deer bodies from blocking traffic.”
Bo quirked a bit of a smile. It was nice to hear someone refer to his brother, even if unknowingly, with some kindness. “Got’cha. Here, why don’t’cha come inside while I take a look, hm?” Y/N smiled softly. “That’d be nice. Uhm, mind helping me up? I don’t want to smack into something in front to a handsome stranger.” She grinned slyly. Bo snickered and stood up. He took her outstretched hand and Jonesy moved on que. He watched her set her cane in place. “Hm. Soft hands for a working man, you moisturize. Good man, a definite green flag.” Her comments managed to make him laugh, genuine oddly enough. It wasn’t easy to get that out of him. “I’ll keep that in mind. C’mon, let’s get you in the air conditioning.”
Y/N waited in the shop as Margret & William listened to Bo’s words. The occasional clang and clicking of him looking at the car parts. “New fan belt, your oil needs changed, you need coolant. That’s just three things I see from under the hood. When’s the last time you took your car in?” Bo asked the young man. William crossed his arms. “I know about cars.” He said. Bo rose an eyebrow and wiped his hands on a stained rag. “Not what I asked, bud. But whatever. I’ll fix those things, it’ll run you bout 100$ even, assumin’ nothin’ else needs to be done.” He said. Margret winced and placed her hand on William’s shoulder. “Ugh, fine. Just fix it.” Bo shrugged and turned, he heard the two young adults whisper to each other. He glanced at them, seeing them turned away from him.
“Just let him do it so we can leave. This town gives me the creeps.” Margret huffed. “I don’t need some redneck dumbass telling me how my car works.” William replied. Bo clenched his jaw, taking a glance at Y/N, seeing her frown. “You kids waltzed into a town and interrupted a church service, and this man is nice enough to still fix your car for a fair price, and you wanna insult him? Honey, get the city skyscraper outta your ass and be grateful. We’re in the South, he could’ve shot you in your city boy face by now.” The woman retorted.
Bo bit the inside of his cheek to fight the urge to grin. As much as he hated to admit it, this woman was funny. William grumbled something in response. “You can’t talk to my boyfriend like that!” Margret exclaimed. Bo watched it unfold. Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes again, he found it a bit funny she managed to put so much sass into two organs that didn’t even work. “I really don’t care.” She admitted. “You’re lucky we even brought you, Y/N. You could be stumbling around at home alone, smacking into things if it weren’t for us.”
Y/N laughed for a moment. “Margret, I’m blind, not incompetent. I can handle myself just fine. Cut your pity-bullshit, I don’t need it. Both of you, check your manners for gods sake. Is it just your age that makes you feel entitled to be little dickheads? Let Bo fix your car, if he even wants to at this point, so we can leave and let him do what he needs to do. At this point you’ve made this more trouble than it’s worth.” She scolded. She wasn’t that much older than them. The group ranged from twenty up to twenty three. Y/N rester at twenty eight, and for some reason that seemed to make a world of difference. Bo’s steps alerted them to him getting closer. “I can have it done in ‘bout an hour. You’re welcome to look ‘round while I work.” He explained. Y/N sighed as Margret & William agreed to leave the station, she followed, assuming the man wanted to be alone, understandably.
“Not you, dollface.” Bo’s voice made her stop. She turned to face him, a small smile gracing her face. “You want me to stay?” She asked with a head tilt. “Not everyday you get pretty and funny company in a ghost town.” The southerner said, she could hear his smug grin in his voice. She laughed quietly and stepped away from the door. “Mr. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me.” Y/N replied. She stopped when she felt him in front of her, tilting her chin up confidently. “Depends, is it workin’?” She snorted. “Maybe a little.” Bo chuckled at her response. Internally, he cursed himself for enjoying it so much, her interactions with him were far more genuine than any usual tourist. This had happened a few times in the past, but certainly not to this extent.
She waited in the doorway while he worked on the car. They spoke about random subjects, ranging from music taste to hobbies. Flirting occasionally and casually. Admittedly, it helped Y/N’s confidence. And then somehow, the conversation dipped into personals. She learned Bo had two brothers, one being a wax sculptor and the other being the roadkill driver that towed the car there. She learned that Vincent, one of his brothers, was his twin. In return, Y/N told her about her family, how she came to stay with her cousin instead of on her own. Main reason being jobs weren’t easy to come by in her town. Bo looked at her and hummed curiously. “If ya don‘t mind me askin’, did you transition into being blind, or was it just…always a thing? Don’t answer if it’s personal.”
“Nah, I get asked that a lot. I love the way you worded it though, lot nicer than others. I wasn’t born blind, no. But my vision started going when I was pretty young. I was full blind by the time I was twelve, since I’m twenty-eight now, it’s been awhile. It was tougher back then than it is now, for sure. I manage fine now. It’s a bit of a struggle with certain things. I’m not allowed to drive, gotta walk everywhere. Gotta act like a bat to get around places that are unfamiliar. When people leave shit in the middle of the floor I’m more likely to trip than your average joe.” She snickered, leaning on the wall behind her. “My hearing and hands do me justice though.”
Bo hummed as he wiped his hands. He wasn’t fixing the car, unbeknownst to her. Rather stripping the smaller parts that he could manage to grab. “How’d ya manage to figure out Jonesy was a pitbull?” He asked. “Easy, pitties have a distinct face shape. And I came accustomed to that face shape easily. When I was younger, when I could still see, we had a pitbull. Even back then I would always rub his face. Pitties love face rubs. Humans? Not so much.” She chuckled. Bo hummed and walked a bit closer to her, shoving the hand towel into his pocket. “That’s right, you gotta feel someone’s face to get an idea of what they look like, huh? …why’d you call me handsome if ya can’t see me?” The brunet questioned. The woman shrugged. “Can just tell. Handsomeness doesn’t come down to faces for me, but if you want, I could touch my mitts all up in your grill.” She wiggled her fingers jokingly. Bo snorted. “Alright. Go for it, doll.” “You serious? Huh, people usually don’t agree to that. Alright, just warn me if I get too close to your eyes or mouth. I don’t wanna stab your cornea, have you end up like me.” She stepped forward. Bo chuckled and it gave her a cue as to where to stop.
She held up her hands. “Gotta guide me a little here, mister.” Y/N said fondly. Bo took one of her palms and brought it to his cheek. He wasn’t entirely sure why he agreed, maybe to get her closer, maybe out of pure curiosity. She rested her hands on his cheeks first, slowly and methodically rubbing her fingertips over specific features. “Sharp jaw, little scar. You been punched before, hm?” His snicker gave away the answer. “Defined cheekbones, you got dimples…hm. Scowl lines though. You got tension lines between your brows too. You’re an angry man, aren’t you Bo?” She asked bluntly with a sense of calm. “You tell that by some lines in my face?” The man asked. Y/N traced the plane of his cheekbone.
“Your face gives away a lot, even if I can’t see it. I’m not judging, but I can tell. You’re an angry man, quick to temper. I imagine it’s a case of you finding it easier to be angry than admit to other emotions?” Her voice was soft as she spoke. Bo ran his tongue over the back of his teeth. “Rather yell at something than feel weak. Better to be made of razor wire than blankets. And it’s easier to bark & bite than be vulnerable, especially when you’re sure people will leave you. Am I getting close?” Bo huffed and went to speak, not entirely sure what to say. It wasn’t like he could deny it. She was accurate, scarily accurate. “Hey, don’t get a frown, I’m not judging. I get it.” Y/N’s voice was still warm. Her face describing calm & understanding.
“How so?” Bo asked. “I don’t really show my anger, I get good at bottling up, but that doesn’t make it go away. Whereas you might yell, I think. And admittedly, sometimes my thoughts wander to…less than pleasant things.” Y/N admitted. She lowered her hand and it rested in his chest casually, he made no effort to move it away. “You think of hurtin’ people?” Y/N shrugged at his question. “Sometimes. …a lot of the time, more than I’d like to admit. People test my patience a lot. I’m quick to anger but people won’t ever see it. And it’s not like I can just admit to someone I’ve though about severely harming them.” She explained. Bo hummed. “The whole tough act you do? I get it. Even if I display my emotions differently. I’m not judging, just observing. Relating even.”
The brunet man gazed over her face again. Taking in each feature and blemish. “That cousin of yours, she ever piss you off that bad?” He stepped a bit closer. Y/N laughed and shook her head. “Oh, every day. I’ve come real close to losing it with her. Not to mention her friends. That little “outburst” where I defended your honor,” Bo chuckled at that. She smiled and continued. “I don’t do that very often. But they’ve been driving me nuts as of recent. Sometimes I worry, if I’m being completely honest, just how bad my brain gets.” She muttered. Bo tilted his head as he took her in. “How far? You talkin’ like you’ve thought of killin’ someone, dollface.” He replied. Y/N said nothing but stared up at him, despite not being able to take in any of his features. Bo let himself smirk. Not like she could see him. “You ever thought about it? Planned it maybe?” His voice was low, almost whispering. Y/N sighed before she nodded. “Not really proud of it. But sometimes I get close, too close for comfort. I’m really not into violence all that much, but when people treat me like some weight on their life, or talk to me like I’m some pathetic wounded animal? It really-“
“Makes you wanna show’em what you’re capable of.” Bo finished. Y/N exhaled and her shoulders dropped. “Exactly. You ever been that angry, Bo?” He chewed the inside of his cheek, enjoying how she said his name. “Felt that way today.” He admitted. Y/N hummed and gave a tiny laugh. “Believe me, I get it. It makes me laugh sometimes. Kids like William have no idea just how easily someone could get tipped off the edge, end up with a barrel aimed at the skull. Only takes about five pounds of force to pull a gun trigger, lot less straining than holding your tongue from calling him a bitch.” Bo laughed again. It was quiet, not wanting to admit she made him laugh. He hummed and tilted his head as he looked at her. “That’s how you’d do it, yeah? You feel like a shotgun type.” Y/N said. “You’d be right, doll. Quicker. My brother’s more of a knife type, quieter that way.” Bo admitted. He felt her mindlessly mess with one of the buttons on his flannel. “How would you do it?” He asked curiously. “Trying to get out my darkest secrets, huh, Bo? You gonna try and rat me out if I tell you?” She replied with a fond grin. “Nope. Just a curious and admittedly sadistic fella, wanna head what twisted shit the pretty lady’s thought of.” He replied. Y/N tucked her tongue into her cheek and hummed in reply.
“Charming.”
“I try.”
Y/N exhaled and tapped her fingers as she thought. “Well, usually they’re based on circumstance. Resourceful killings if you’d like to call them that. Drowning Margret in dish water. Pushing William onto a busy street after he kicks my fucking cane.” Bo felt his blood burn as she spoke through gritted teeth, seeing her loosen her jaw. “Had a dream with a wood chipper once.” She shrugged. “A wood chipper? You’d shove’em in alive or dead?” He pressed. “Whatever works. Dead either way, right?” Y/N replied. “Damn, doll. Makin’ me wonder if you’d even be sad if those kids ended up dead.” He was losing it now, the whole act, growing more and more into his genuine self. Someone sadistic & cruel. “Wanna know something, mister?” She asked him. Bo rose his hand to fiddle with her bracelet, feeling the softness of her hand still rested on his chest. “Tell a man, doll.” He replied. She leaned in and whispered quietly. “I could really give a fuck less.” She hissed sadistically. Bo’s breath silently hitched. “You’re makin’ it really difficult to imagine you leavin’, hun. Almost wanna keep ya.” The man said. “What? Want a house wife to aid in your murder plots? …that doesn’t sound to bad. I make a pretty good peach cobbler and I know how to play dumb.” She offered. Bo forced himself to remember to breath.
“Don’t sound that bad.” Bo said softly. Y/N chewed on her lower lip before standing up completely straight. “No. No it doesn’t…” She muttered. She jumped at the sound of a scream, feminine and guttural. She turned to catch the sound better before tilting back to Bo, wide eyed. “…and I thought you were kidding.” She whispered. Bo’s gaze sharpened. “You wanna take back your offer?” He asked slowly. Y/N didn’t move and she didn’t speak for awhile either. She heard the scream again. She turned to him fully, maybe a bit closer than she had stood before.
“No. No I don’t.” She said softly.
Bo chuckled, though a bit surprised. “I’ll show you to the house in a bit, how’s that sound, ay doll?” He asked. “I’ll be here.” She leaned against her cane. Her breath caught a bit when she felt a kiss be pressed to her temple, practically burning with a sadistic grin & a strange bit of sensuality, despite it being an innocent action. And for some reason…she enjoyed it.
922 notes · View notes
loveandmurders · 2 years
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Hi!! Love your Sinclair sister content! Could you please write something where Sister! Sinclair is for some reason or other kind of sickly? Maybe She’s had a chronic (non-terminal) illness since childhood, either genetic or as a result from Victor’s shady medical experiments, and even when she’s an adult, she sometimes still has to be on bed rest and/or go through strict medication schedules, with 3 older brothers that take turns keeping watch to make sure she doesn’t overexert herself or take a bad turn. I dunno, Sometimes I think about what if a victim burst into sister sinclair’s bedroom and mistook her for a victim as well? what if a victim thought “oh no a young woman held captive too I must save her!” And tried to force her out of bed and drag her with them during their escape attempt? And how protective her brothers would be, how they’d react if they went to check on her and found her room empty. Especially if those lingering fears of “Oh no what if she dies” from childhood still remained with them. Even if sis’s condition has improved in adulthood and she’s not totally invalid. Love your work!! 🧡
Hello, love. Thank you for your request and kind words!!
I did a little cute one shot based on the details you gave me, hope you'll enjoy it (it might start a bit slowly but then it picks up, I promise) <3 Warnings: chronically ill reader (no disease specified, symptoms of nausea, lack of breath, chest pain), one or two strong word, mentions of murders, mention of abusive family
You really hated those kinds of days when your body decided it was a relapse day. That meant you would need to stay in bed all day and to start a stronger medication than usual so you could feel better in a few days. It sucked so much; you always had so much to do but no, your body would decide otherwise for you and then you would be late for all the chores you needed to do. Since childhood, your body loved to betray you. You would be alright, minding your own business when you wouldn’t suddenly be able to breathe to the point you would be gasping for air and you would feel very weak, nauseous and tired. More than once you almost passed out. Thankfully, your brothers were almost always around and they would catch you before you could hurt yourself. It was as if they possessed some kind of “sibling instinct” telling them when you would need them; more than once they came to check on you just before you fell, even though they had no reason to do it. And they would of course drop whatever they were doing and would tug you to bed and bring you your medication. They would all turn into mother hens, fussing around you and watching over you with great care. 
You truly hated that. You hated to feel like a burden to them and to not be able to help them with the killings then. And the boys found you, more than once, crying in your bed, cursing your body and your condition. It was the moment your brothers were the softest to you, they would try their best to cheer you up. Lester would crack some jokes, Vincent would gently cuddle you and Bo would bring you your favourite food. For once Bo wouldn’t burst in anger, he would only be focused on you. You also knew they were acting so differently when you were sick for two reasons. First, it was because you never allowed them to take care of you that way when you were feeling alright. And your brothers were too protective for your own good. You argued countless times with them, and especially with Bo who was always a little bit controlling. At least, when you were sick, they were authorised to keep an eye on you, to check on you as much as they wanted and to coddle you like a very fragile little thing. It was only because you were too weak to argue. The second reason was because the three of them were really scared your sickness might eventually kill you, even though you were going better than in your childhood. They had no idea what they would do if anything bad happened to you. They needed you more than anything in their lives. They couldn’t even talk about it, but you knew they all very often thought about it, especially when you were in the middle of a crisis.
However, the crises were a lot stronger and more often back then, when you were a kid. It made you lose consciousness quite regularly, especially when the pain in your chest would be just unbearable. You could spend weeks in bed, unable to move or do anything until your father would finally find something that would make you feel better, even if only for a few weeks, or months when you were lucky. The boys would already be very protective of you, and would try their best to help you feel better. It was the only time your parents could enjoy some peace, because your brothers would be too busy taking care of you to scream, argue, and act on their traumas.
One of the worst parts of this was that you had no idea when it started or why, because your mother always said you were a very healthy baby. And she was quite upset about your illness because she already had her hands full with the twins. She didn’t get lucky with her children, she always thought out loud. Victor wouldn’t comment about it, just dealing with the four of you the best he could, in a very cold and “medical” way. Bo always thought your father did something to you though. Lester always replied to Bo that there was no proof of that, because he didn’t want that idea to hurt you. Vincent would rather not talk about it, as if he knew something and preferred to keep it to himself. For your own mental health, you decided to believe it was genetic, maybe from a great grandparent you never met and your parents forgot about, and nothing else. That was why you never asked questions to the doctors you saw later on in your life. Plus, you strongly believed you didn’t need to know why; you just needed a good treatment so you would be able to live as well as possible and you wouldn’t have to go to the hospital. Again. Once was more than enough for you… and for your brothers.
When your father was still alive, he had placed you under some medications. It didn’t seem to suit you very well though, especially as you grew up. You would suffer a lot of side effects and you wouldn’t feel so well pretty much all the time. So one day, you just stopped taking what he gave you. For you, at first, it went a lot better, but you quickly felt even sicker than usual and you had a very bad crisis, the worst you ever had. Victor wasn’t impressed at all with you, and he would have let you collapse on his living room floor if your brothers hadn’t reacted. Actually, they panicked, and because Bo was old enough to drive, both him and Lester rushed you to the closest hospital. You were pretty certain you got lucky you didn’t get caught by the police because Bo didn’t respect any speed limitations; he really thought you were going to die. Your two brothers stayed with you all night, very worried for you, and called home to let Vincent know how you were doing. Your mother was already dead and your father was asleep. He never showed up at the hospital even though you stayed there a whole week. You were pretty certain that the lack of interest in you was the last reason why Bo killed your father, but you never talked about it. You were just secretly grateful you could count on your brothers when you truly needed them.
Anyways, today was a day you had to be tugged into bed by Vincent because he saw how weak you were at breakfast. When you got up this morning, you knew it wasn’t going to be a good day but you wanted to pretend that it was going to be okay. Maybe if you didn’t acknowledge your body, it would leave you alone, yes? Thankfully Bo hadn’t been around or he would have yelled at you for having gotten up despite the sickness and the lack of breath. Vincent had quickly stood up from his chair when he caught you using the wall to keep you upright. He scooped you up in his arms before you could even protest and he brought you back into your bed. He checked on you, asked you what you needed before getting the meds for you. You pouted and tried to negotiate with him but your brothers would never agree to any kind of deals when it was about your health. They needed you to be alright and even though they loved to take care of you, their hearts were aching at seeing you in any kind of pain. They needed you to be alright, to be your usual sarcastic and independent self again. And the quicker they took care of you, the quicker you were back on your feet. And even though you also knew all this, you couldn’t help but try to pretend you were fine or at least better than you truly were.
You grumbled a soft thank you to Vincent when he gave you your medication with a big glass of water. He waited for you to take it before kissing your forehead and leaving your room. He had instructed you to have some rest but your brain didn’t want to sleep. So you were wide awake, laying in your bed, pouting at yourself. You were bored out of your mind at the moment. It was often like that, once you agreed it was time to stop fighting, you were getting bored, and you needed to think of something to do. You turned your head toward your night table and stared at the pile of books on it, and then at your phone. You didn’t know if you had the strength or enough focus to read, but you didn’t feel like watching videos either. You sighed and tried to find a better position in your bed. You stared at the ceiling then, until you received a message from Lester. You grabbed your phone and opened the message right away.
Vince told me ya ain’t feelin good. Be here this afternoon to take care of ya. Needin anythin at the store?
Of course Vincent had already warned Lester about it, and he probably told it to Bo as well. Gosh, you loved to have your brothers there for you, but they were really too much for your own sanity. You were about to answer to Lester that no, you didn’t need anything, just for your body to be nicer and your brain to shut the fuck up so you could sleep, when your bedroom door opened to reveal Bo. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the man and at his antics. As usual when he was checking on you, he was quickly looking up and down at you as he leaned against the doorframe. You both stayed silent for a little while as you waited for him to stop staring at you like that. You were used to it, and in a little while he would start to question you about how you are feeling. It was always the same thing. There was only your answer that wasn’t always the same and you knew how tense Bo truly was, always scared you would even be too weak to answer.
“How feelin’?” he finally asked with worry in his tone and you rolled your eyes this time. Out of the three, you were pretty sure Bo was the most worried about you. Not that Vincent and Lester cared less about you; Bo was just very bad with his emotions and when you were sick, he was all awkward, without knowing how to truly react. Even after all this time, he didn’t know how to deal with your vulnerability because it was reminding him of his own.
“Ya know, ‘s not because ‘m sick, ya can’t knock at the fuckin’ door” you grumbled because you weren’t in the mood for his bullshit. The man relaxed and even sent you a smirk. It was easier for him when you were mostly your usual self.
“Ah good, not too bad of a crisis if ya can still be snarky” he replied as he came closer to you. In a few steps, he was by your side and sat on the edge of your bed. He ruffled your hair and you huffed and pushed his hand away. “Don’t take the bad habit of talkin’ to me that way though” he warned you and you gave him a very unimpressed look; you really weren’t in the mood to deal with him.
“‘M fine, go back to your cars now” you told and he reluctantly nodded. He had hoped you would have asked him to stay with you. It happened sometimes that you didn’t want to stay alone and then he would fake being annoyed at you while settling in bed with you. Of course, he loved to be allowed to coddle you, no matter how much he hated to have you sick.
“‘Kay, but if ya need anythin’ ya betta call. Vince’ll check on ya later on and ’ll come back to make sure ya take your meds on time” he said and pointed a finger at you. 
“Ain’t a child no more, can take care of myself” you argued back and Bo huffed at you, very not impressed either by your attitude.
“Ya could fall asleep and we all know you need us” he replied. He liked to remind you how much you needed them, as if to convince you you did. But you already did, even though you didn’t want to admit it.
“Can put an alarm on and…” you were starting to argue again but Bo stopped you before you could finish your sentence.
“Stop wastin’ your breath, ya know ‘s useless” he sternely replied as he got up from your bed “No need to be difficult, we’re here to take care of ya and there’s nothin’ ya can do ‘bout it” he continued and you sighed. You already knew that as well. Because of your weaker state, you were softer as well. You sat up so you could wrap your arms around him. He calmed down when he understood you wouldn’t fight anymore and he kissed the top of your head. “Much betta” he nodded to himself. You let out a little chuckle before pushing him away.
“Go now” you said.
He gave you one last kiss before leaving your room and softly closing the door behind him.
The rest of the day went by as usual: you eventually fell asleep, so Vincent had to wake you up with gentle touches so you could take your medication on time. You thanked him. Bo brought you food at lunch and chatted with you a little longer until Lester arrived so he could stay around if you needed anything. You slept some more and from time to time you could hear your bedroom door cracked open. One of your brothers would check on you to see if you were resting or if you needed to be taken care of, and sometimes they would wake you up so you could take your meds again. You were already feeling better actually and you truly hoped the crisis would go by pretty soon. Last time you saw Lester, he let you know some tourists had arrived in town but they were a small group and you had nothing to worry about, the twins would really easily end them and you could go back to sleep without even thinking about it. He just wanted to warn you in case you heard gunshots or screams, even if Bo and Vincent were going to try and be quiet for your own sake. You thanked Lester for the information but you didn't think much about it; the tourists never arrived at the house before so you didn’t think anything happening in Ambrose today was of your concern. You could peacefully rest in your safe haven. Plus, with your brothers around, nothing could happen to you.
However, at some point, you vaguely heard in your sleep your door being opened again, but it didn’t seem to be your brothers. You could recognise their footsteps and the way they had to open your door, and it didn’t sound like them at all. You slightly frowned in your unconscious state before being jolted awake by a hand grabbing your arm. You opened your eyes and found a man looking down at you. You didn’t recognize him. You needed some time to understand what was going on: a tourist had arrived into your bedroom! You were silently cursing yourself, and lowkey panicking. At first, you thought the man was going to attack you, despite your vulnerable state, but it was quite the opposite. He tried to get you out of bed to help you!
“I’ve no idea what they did to you, but I’m gonna help. Don’t worry I’m not gonna let you rot in here. Come with me” he told you.
You were speechless. Shit, the man thought you were a victim too! You felt weaker than earlier and you were quite confused. You had a quick glance at the clock and you noticed you missed one of the medication times. Your three brothers must have more issues with the tourists than expected. You tried to talk but you were too tired to be able to. You finally let the man get you out of bed. You sat up and pushed him before shaking your head. You didn’t want him to realise you were a Sinclair but you couldn’t let him take you that easily.
“I promise I’m on your side, I’ll protect you. I’ve already lost all my friends over there, I won’t let another innocent person get tortured and killed today. So come with me. I’ve found some car keys, I’ll be able to drive us out of this hell of town” he explained to you in a rushed whisper. It was even worse than you thought.
“Go… without me” you finally managed to say but the man was stubborn and soon enough you were on your feet. You continued to curse yourself as you couldn’t stop him from taking you downstairs. You more than once fell against him to slow him down, but he didn’t notice it was on purpose and he tried harder for you. You honestly found it quite adorable, but you were also praying for your brothers to quickly come home. At the same time, you realised they would never look over here, because they were too certain that something like that couldn’t happen. And of course it had to be the day you had a crisis!
You were out of the house now; he had found a way out of it from the back door. He had spotted the car he needed and he was slowly getting you there. At least, you knew you could forever tease your brothers with this adventure… if it didn’t badly turn for either of you. You almost reached the car when you heard a gun being loaded behind the two of you. You turned your head around and saw Bo aiming at him. He was pale like you never saw him like that before. You also spotted Vincent lurking in the shadow, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“Let her go!” Bo screamed at the man who turned around, paralysed. He was breathing heavily. You weren’t feeling much better as the heat was getting to you. You were about to collapse, you were sure of it, but you really needed to stay awake until this whole mess would be over.
“I won’t let you hurt an innocent woman!” the guy replied and he pushed you behind him to protect you. How ironic that was. You could almost find the situation funny if you weren’t feeling nauseous again. He gave you the keys “Go into the car, I’ll protect you” he told you and you decided to get along with it. At least, if you were out of Bo’s shot, your brother would be able to kill the man. You slowly went into the car and closed the door behind you as you leaned against the seat, waiting for this unwanted untertainment to be over.
Actually, you had fallen unconscious without realising it, because the next time you opened your eyes, you were laying on the couch and your brothers were loudly arguing in the kitchen.
“How did he manage to get into the house hhm?”
“Because ya’re a slow bitch at killing people!”
“How did ya call me little fucker? Ya were supposed to stay here to protect her, but no, ya decided to go have a walk with Jonesy”
“She was scared of the gunshots and no one is supposed to get to the house!”
You were already having a headache. You couldn’t scream, so you grabbed a glass laying on the coffee table and you pushed it on the floor. The sound of breaking glass instantly made them stop arguing. They rushed to you and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at their worried expression all over their faces. “Gosh, is that how ya take care of me now? Ya let people kidnap me?” you teased and laughed even more. Lester smiled as he realised you were feeling alright and even finding the situation quite amusing.
“Stop laughin', Vincent and I almost had a heart attack when we found your empty bed” Bo said, still tense.
“Poor babies” you teased some more and Vincent smiled behind his mask. He brought you your medicine and you took it.
“Won’t happen again” Bo promised and he was deadly serious. You shook your head and smiled
“‘S okay, it was kinda fun”
“‘M gonna pretend ya ain’t knowin’ what ya’re sayin’, love” Bo replied as he checked your temperature by placing a hand on your forehead, hoping you were simply overheating. 
“How ‘bout ya clean up the glass I broke and I won’t tease ya ‘bout that story no more” you offered with a smirk and Lester laughed. Bo huffed but in no time he was complying, even though he wasn’t happy about it. He looked up at you.
“Ya lyin’?” he asked
“Ya’ll die hearin’ that story” you chuckled and Bo groaned even more.
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@6-6-6-riddler
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cherryskyies · 1 year
Text
What your favorite slasher says about you — part two
includes: og michael myers, bo sinclair, vincent sinclair
this is just the start of my slasher writing. so far, they are winning on the poll, so what better way to start than to finish old pieces?
please bare w me, my writing is a smidge rusty ok 😔
Masterlist || Navigation || a03
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Og Michael Myers
I can't explain it well, but he is the equivalent of that inner cold feeling when you were at your lowest. You can still remember it in memories and it's a comfort you can't let go. It's giving major attachment issues, even to things that ruined you. Letting go of your past is like letting go of yourself — you can't do it.
You weren't listened to growing up either, and maybe even now you still aren't. Advice was given, especially when you didn't want it. You're desperate to have someone just listen.
Alone time is a must in your life, you can't have someone all up in your business 24/7. 
Probably a water sign with an air moon. Or a Taurus who never had stability.
Rough sex is a must. I mean, it's Michael. Rough is the only way you'll get it and you like it like that. Also, it's giving blood & knife play vibes.
Very independent. You'd rather die than have to depend on another person for necessities. 
Bo Sinclair
It's giving possible substance abuse or alcoholism. I mean, you only drink Monday-Sunday?? What's the harm in that?
You crave possession in a relationship. Maybe you never felt special, so it's a must to have a partner willing to kill for you and show you off.
Bondage is definitely an interest of yours. You might be into forced submission and definitely into being covered in marks. 
It's also giving daddy issues. Something about an older man calling you baby and sweetheart sends you into overdrive. You want him to provide and you want him to make most of the decisions while you sit pretty.
You've never experienced a stable relationship either, especially with men, so you don't care that he'd be toxic. You only care that he's there and not likely to leave. 
Probably an earth sign or neglected fire sign.
Vincent Sinclair
Either an only child or the ignored one — maybe both.
Body worship is a must. Nothing more attractive than a man that makes you feel special, loved, and seen.
You don't care about money or expensive dates and trips. You'd be happy with a picnic and spending alone time together, because to you it means more than anything money could buy. 
Definitely insecure yourself, so you're drawn to those with obvious flaws; not that you think he's flawed, but it gives a deeper understanding.
Actions mean more than words. You've likely been let down by those who have said they would do something, but never did. 
Soft, meaningful sex is your style. If you can't feel an emotional connection or you don't feel loved during, then you aren't happy and begin to feel insecure in the relationship. 
You enjoy peace and tranquility. Maybe you're an artist or it simply fascinates you due to the complexity and millions of meanings. Do you stay up and think about the past and it's art, wondering what was going through their minds and what they had witnessed to create it?
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scaredcacticle · 5 months
Text
Flowers For Men
Bo Sinclair x F!Reader 🔥
Bo’s date makes an unforgettable first impression
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“Dammit, sir can you help me,” you ask the man in the same aisle as you.
“Wh-Oh hey pretty girl what can I go for you,” he replies looking you up and down.
“That’s cute, can you please help me out,” you laugh.
“Hey you don’t even know my name,” he replies, an expectant look on his face.
“Fine what’s your name, mines Y/N,” you giggle.
“Names Bo. Now what is a pretty girl like you doing in a dirty shop like this?” he asks as he walks closer.
“Broken fan belt sadly, anyway you can help?”
“Heh… Yeah I can help you get one but only if I get a date in return”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah really”
With a smile you can’t help but ask him for a pen and paper. He wasn’t bad looking either, quite the opposite actually. Nice chocolate hair, strong arms visible underneath his mechanics suit, and very strong looking hands.
As you walked with him and got your things you couldn’t help but stare at his body. The sweltering heat had his clothes sticking to him showing every muscle in his back.
“Thank you for helping me”
“No problem doll. This a real number ain’t it”
“Of course it is but don’t open it until I leave. No questions just do it”
“Alright”
As you both part ways Bo opens the paper. It’s your number with a time and date at a diner in town. He smiles to himself and heads home, trying to convince himself he won’t be counting down the days until he sees you again.
________
“Hey,” Bo hears from behind him, that all to familiar sweet voice hitting his ears once again. As he turns he has to all but catch his jaw.
He’s a simple man with simple tastes. The simple jean shorts that hug your thighs ever so tightly and your low cut top has his all of his blood going south.
“Hey doll you look real good,” he says , eyes tracing your breasts over and over again.
“Glad you like my top but I also have a gift for you,” you laugh, pulling a bouquet of flowers from behind you.
As you set them down Bo stays sitting in silence, mouth open in disbelief.
“Aww cmon now darlin’ men don’t get flowers,” he says covering his face to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.
“Hey when we talked on the phone you said yourself ‘men never get flowers until they’re dead’ and I plan on giving you a lot more than flowers before you’re dead,” you say leaning over the table between the two of you, making sure your chest is on full display for him.
For the first time in a long time Bo was absolutely stunned. The woman in front of him had him enamored and he needed her. All of her.
As the date continued you and Bo laughed and laughed until the diner closed. Time passing by the both of you in the blink of an eye.
“Can I come back to your place?” You ask as soon as you both leave the diner making Bo stop.
“What?” he laughs ,” I thought I would be the one to ask”
“But you’re not asking fast enough,” all smiles gone from your face, you step up to him. Your face inches from his.
“Y-yeah I mean I was just making sure you wanted to”
“Of course I am”
“Let’s go then”
————
“So where’s your house?” You ask, taking your jacket off.
“Really? That’s all I get after all that teasing at the diner,” Bo laughs , sitting a not so sly hand on your thigh.
“Hey I gotta make sure you’re not a serial killer or something,” you giggle crossing your legs over his hand.
“Well I own my own shop in Ambrose and a wax museum run by my brother and I”
“Nice”
And with that you give him shorter and shorter replies. At some point he’d wondered if you’d fallen asleep, sometimes not answering him at all. Until he pulled up into Ambrose.
“You alrig-“ he starts to ask before your lips are on his and for the first time he has to push a woman off.
“Woah doll that’s what you’ve been planning huh. Let’s go inside”
“Nope. Let’s do it right here in the open who’s gonna see?”
He thinks you’re a woman after his own heart and before he can even think about it he’s on you.
Hands and lips wandering and rubbing all over you. His hands come under your top and in one swift motion he rips it off of you. Breasts now exposed to the cool air of Ambrose.
Like a man starved his mouth is all over your chest. Squeezing and licking your nipples with a hand to your throat. After making quick work of his pants his hands travel to yours and he does the same.
And right before he can do anything you whip around and fall to your knees. It felt like pure ecstasy to Bo, the warm cavern of your mouth feeling like our ecstasy on his member. But Bo isn’t one to lose control so easily, swiftly grabbing your head forcing you down on him over and over again and right before his climax he pulls you off.
Dragging you to the back of his truck he open the bed and throws you over it stuffing himself inside of you. Wasting no time he rams into you hitting every spot you never could.
“That’s right you’re my little slut aren’t you?” He grunts into your ear, hands tightening around your throat.
“Yes, yes I’m your little fucking slut!” You scream, waves and waves of pleasure rushing over you. But Bo keeps going ramming himself into you harder and harder until he unloads inside of you. Using you like his fuckdoll he keeps going until he’s completely empty.
As he pulls always he looks at the beauty of what he’d done. You’re a mess with his cum dripping down your legs and hair a mess.
“You wanna stay the night doll?” He laughs, wiping the remnants of himself off of you.”
And with your nod he picks you up and carries you to his bedroom.
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vikkirosko · 6 months
Text
🧢 Bo Sinclair x Reader Oneshot Tattoo 🧰
Everyone in your city had their own role. Lester lured people to Ambrose, Vincent made wax sculptures, Bo created the appearance of a southern gentleman, giving tourists a sense of security, and you had to attract their attention without letting them notice anything suspicious. You and Bo have always performed your duties together. You didn't even have to pretend to be a couple, because you were really together. Bo pretended to be looking for spare parts that Vincent had damaged in their car during the night while you were rearranging goods on the shelves. You knew they were looking at you, it wasn't the first time people were attracted to your appearance. Even though you wore a T-shirt and shorts to cope with the heat, which was often during the day, it also helped you cope with your role. Bo was annoyed that they were staring at you, but he couldn't afford to voice his indignation. He couldn't afford to arouse their suspicions. However, pretty quickly they began to look away in embarrassment. The reason for this was that you bent down to take one of the boxes and they could see your tattoo on the lower back. You got this tattoo a few months ago, for this you specifically asked Lester to take you to the city. Now "Bo Sinclair" was written in a beautiful handwriting on your skin. You didn't see a problem in getting yourself such a tattoo, and Bo couldn't hold back a satisfied smile every time he saw this tattoo or when someone else saw it. And now he was smiling again. He saw the faces of tourists and understood exactly what they saw. He liked to see those faces. Although he didn't like being stared at, he liked it when they realized that there was no point in them even trying to flirt with you, because the only one you were looking at was him.
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slasherstories123 · 7 months
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You're "New Beginning" story that you made for me was so beautiful, that I cried. I was hoping maybe when you have the time, you could do a part two? Where the S/O and Vincent date a lot, and that she bought Vincent a new sketchbook and artist pencils.
Bo wanted her back, even though he said it's over, he got bored. Until he caught her actually dating Vincent after he climbed through the window with a small bouquet. The S/O refuses to go back to him of course, she loves Vincent now.
If you don't want to, you can just delete it and ignore it
New begging pt 2
Word count: 1.6k
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Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @mrs-heelshire @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @beel-mcburger @slasherscrybaby @sadskies @bunnysenpai31 @emychan @pink-apollo @misscaller06 @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @charliedawn
Ever since the break up with Bo, it tore you apart, but his twin was there to bring you back up, you didn’t want to be with Vincent just yet, and he respected that. Waiting for whenever you were ready, when you did, he was happy, Ecstatic. Honestly, he treated you better than Bo did, you two always spent time with each other in the basement where he worked, or crafted. Even teaching you a few drawing skills. Mainly, you’d watch him draw or paint, always putting his hair in a braid or ponytail so no art products would get in it. He was grateful for it, grateful to have you for himself. You were happier with Vincent. Compared to Bo, he’s sweet and gentle.
Since Lester came to town, you decided to get groceries and other items from stores, thanking Lester for taking you as you got back home. Waving at the truck pulling off. You put up all the food that belonged in the cabinets and fridge, leaving a certain bag out. Black hair tickled your neck as you put up cans of soup, giggling to yourself, knowing who it was. “Hello to you too Vince.” Turning around, you hugged your boyfriend. His arms wrapped around you, returning the hug, chin resting at the top of your head. “I got you something,” You pulled away to grab the bag, smiling at the small head tilt he gave you, taking it to see what you got. It was a large sketchbook and sketch pencils. You paid attention to his art supplies, seeing that most of his sketchbooks were filled and the pencils were low.
“I thought you could have a bigger sketchbook, plus it was on sale, made me think of you.”
The man smiled under the mask, gently tilting your head upwards so his masked lips could kiss your forehead, his way of saying thank you. You kissed his mask cheek. “You’re welcome, Vinny.” You took a good look at him, his back was still kinda hunched forward, indicating that he’s been sitting in a chair for hours. He looked sluggish. Tired even. “Is this your first time coming out of the basement since I left?” You cupped his masked face ever so gently. He shamefully nodded, hair tickling your nose, you rubbed it so you wouldn’t sneeze. “Vinny you gotta learn when to take breaks, your health matters.” His soft hands grabbed your wrists, thumbs rubbing against your veins. He understood.You hated it when he didn’t take breaks or would spend up to hours working on art or sculpting figures.
His forehead rested against yours, making you laugh. Looks like he really missed you today. Sounds of plastic filled both of your ears. Vincent turned around to see his twin brother at the door with a bouquet of flowers in his right hand, wearing the blue suit he’d always wear at the church. Tilting his head upwards to look at the two of you. He stood there silent. You had a feeling that you knew what he wanted to say. You whispered to Vincent, giving him the bag and telling him to go downstairs, you’ll meet him down there.
He looked at Bo and complied, nodding his head and leaving. Now that you two were alone, you leaned against the counter and crossed your arms. “Bo?” You spoke. The man took a few steps forward, handing the flowers out in your direction. “I…” He paused, you moved your hand in a way telling him to continue. “I want you back darling.” “I’m not your darling. Not anymore, you had your chance and you blew it. Badly.” He was taken back by the response.
“Come on Y/N don’t be like this…”He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Okay?” It was rare for Bo to even apologize at all, so it caught you off guard, only a little. Shaking your head, you pushed the flowers to his chest. “I will accept your apology, but I’m not getting back with you, as you can see, I’m with Vincent, and am much happier with him. Like I said, you had your chance, plus, you were the one that broke up first, remember?”
He didn’t say anything, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t describe. Plus, he never acted like he wanted you back until now. It was like he didn’t care at first, but got bored. You weren’t gonna make that mistake. He might do the same things again, you weren’t going to fall for it.
“So, you can take those flowers, and give it to the next woman that comes to Ambrose, I’m sure she’ll love it like I would’ve done.” You gave him a smile, patting his shoulder, leaving the man alone in the kitchen to pounder in his thoughts. Ever since the breakup things have been weird, especially since you had to stay with Bo in order to play your role in getting the victims to trust you, but after a while everything was fine. You thought he was fine, going back to his old self since he didn’t have to worry about a partner, who knew he'd turn around and try and ask you back despite him breaking up first.
As you left the kitchen, you ran into Vincent, just by his body language, you could tell he was guilty. You sighed. “You heard everything, didn’t you?” He nodded slowly. You hugged him, feeling slight tension be released from your shoulders. “Just know that nothing is going on. I’ll always be with you.” His body slightly tensed up, but hugged you back, Glad that you chose to stay with him. “Now come on, I’d like to see more art you made since I was gone. After that, you’re taking a nap, it looks like you need one.” You could tell he was happy at the sentence, head slowly nodding. Plus, a nap sounds good. Holding your hand to guide you to the basement, where you could praise him for the beautiful art he’s made.
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