Bo Sinclair X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

Smut below. Never written smut so be nice—

Bo Sinclair x fem!reader

⚠️NSFW 18+ ONLY⚠️

Okay but—

Bo telling you how much he doesn’t deserve you, whispering it against you ear, as he thrusts hard and rough, tender and lustful, deep inside you. He knows he’s the worst and he knows he’s a monster; he doesn’t deserve you.

His rough hands by your head as he takes the pace painfully slow, rutting fast, then slow again. He kisses your neck then your shoulder. His heart hammers at your whimpers and moans. He doesn’t want to be near your, but he wants to be beside you. He can’t imagine himself without you in his life anymore.

“‘M no good, no good,” he breathes heavily as his pace quickens. His hands hold your wrists above your head as he angles himself to hit your g-spot better, the spot that makes you unravel like yarn. “God, you deserve better… so-so much better. To-fuck— to perfect for me.”

He watches your eyes roll back as you come close to your fourth or fifth climax, but he won’t stop because he’s too lost in his own need. Sometimes, he’s scared of himself when he’s lost like this because he doesn’t want to hurt you too bad, but the bruises he leaves behind on your thighs and kiss-stained mark on your neck does something to him.

His other hand roams up and down your body, feeling your chest and sides. Marble statues are jealous of you. He leans down and kisses hard and long, taking your lips in like it’s the last water in the world. He loves the way you call his name and kiss his skin. He goes faster and faster, lifting you up as he does and uses you as a fuck-toy. He holds your back and supports your head as he hears your pleas to slow down but he can’t, he won’t. His eyes burning with flames that were never blown out. He feels how you clinch and how you squirms as he chases his high.

“Never been good for your body. Never-never been good for your hands,” he grunted as he feels your hands around his neck for support. “Never been good for your love. No good for you! You’re too-too perfect. Too innocent and pure-pure for me.” His hips rolling into yours. “Fuckin’ perfect. Too perfect for me.” He bites your shoulder as he slams himself in you unapologetically. He tastes your blood and can feel your heart in his teeth and it makes his eyes roll. “I don’t deserve-deserve your fuckin’ pussy. Don’t deserve how tight it is— shit. I don’t deserve you.”

With one last hard thrust, he feels your walls clinch around him. He hears you moan out his name like a prayer to an elder god, but he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve your voice saying his name like that.

He comes closer to you as he pushes his seed deep inside your body, feeling it mix with yours. Slowly, he lays your body back down into the mangled sheets and kisses the bite marks he left behind. He breathes deeply out and shivers when he breathes in. His callous hands run over your skin as he lets go of you. He doesn’t want your hands over him but he craves it like a drug.

“No… shit, no good for you,” he repeats as he rests his head against yours. “Someone’s better than me.” He leans into your hand and he marvel that if feels like the finest silk. “Fuck, I love you.”

He’ll slowly pull out once he feels your body relax into the blankets and pillows under you. Bo’s not one for aftercare, but his hands smooth your legs and sides, kissing the handprint bruise on your hips. And you see his body in the dim moonlight, and you can see his scars from the past and from the fights. You see how tired his eyes are and how much he’s love struck with you.

As he climbs out of bed, your hand catches his and he kisses your knocks before letting go. Hes right back with a cold wash rag and some lotion. He kisses your body tired until your numb from his love. He washes your body and sings praises to you, calling you his, calling you perfect, calling you darling. He lotions your legs, arms, and throat, and he’s being so gentle with you. When he’s done, you rust on his chest and trace his scars.

“…if you keep lovin’ me like this,” he says in a husky voice, “I’ll never let you go… never let you leave me.” He’ll look down at you then kiss your head. “Never leave me.”

You’re too tired to answer as you rest your head over his heart. You belong here in his arms and he’ll never let you go. Not for a second.

The Sinclair Twins With Baby Fever

This contains smut so minors do not engage thank you. Contains graphic depictions of sex/ sexual acts.

(Also i havent written smut in a while so im sorry if its bad lmao)

Bo Sinclair

Bo never thought he'd want kids.

He thought they were sort of like inconveniences from how his parents acted when they were kids.

But that idea slowly began to change after meeting you

For one, it takes two people to make one, and in a ghost town, there isn't an abundance of living women.

And Bo didn't really believe he would be a good parent.

However, it all flipped rather suddenly for Bo.

You had been showing him photos from an old vacation you went on with family and he stumbled across one of you and your niece.

A tiny one-year-old, in cute pink dungarees, all swaddled up in your arms with big blue eyes and one of her chunky hands in her mouth on an exploration.

Bo admitted that it was rather cute and you started to ramble about the times you've looked after family and children.

And it occurs to Bo that while he may not be wonderful with children, you certainly were.

The thought comes along all too suddenly for his liking and before he knows what he's doing, he's imagining you with your baby- his baby.

It makes his chest flutter, the image of your swollen belly and milk-filled chest burning into his eyes.

He tries to give it some serious thought, weighing up the pros and cons of such an important choice.

Bo of course brought it up to you. He wasn't going to just grin and bear the need he was now experiencing.

~~~~~

"Oh my god," you grin up at him. He scowls and huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What? I don't see what the big deal is." he's still pouting and you have to admit he looks pretty cute like that, with blushy cheeks.

"Bo, you've got baby fever!" you giggle and him as he huffs again. 

Bo throws his arms up in the air and sighs. He knows he isn't going to win that battle. "Look did you want to have a baby or not, sugar?"

You give him a long drawn-out silence, leaving him in anticipation for what he deems to be far too long, however, he doesn't want to push his luck on the situation.

You finally give him a smile and a wink, "Of course I do, Bo." he fights back a smile and slinks closer to you to give you a peck on the cheek but lets out a chuckle when you pull him back again for a proper kiss.

He smirks and practically throws you into the bedroom, not wasting a moment to take off his shirt and throw it to the side. He tugs down his jeans and you both begin to shed clothing as fast as possible. You can hear the clink of your husband's belt hitting the floor over the sound of your loud heartbeat. He finally moves to slot himself between your thighs, grinding against your clothed heat.

Bo hasn't felt this nervous in a long time. Normally, sex is rough and teasing with Bo, but every little touch against him feels like fire and it has him moaning into your chest like a virgin. The image of your swollen belly ingrains itself into his mind again, and he feels himself becoming too needy to pace himself. Before he can fully grasp what he's doing, he's already rutting into you with quick deep thrusts. He doesn't bother pulling out and wasting time on long thrusts, choosing to just chase the pleasure you both want so badly.

Bo loves the way you look under him like this, eyes nearly closed and rolling back with your mouth agape from the breathless moans you're making after every rub of his cock against your g-spot. He can feel you tightening around him, and he honestly can't recall a better feeling than this. He can tell you're going to cum soon with how loud you are and how your hips try to chase his.

Bo slips a hand between you both and plants it on your folds. He'll be damned if he was going to cum this soon without you. You let out a moan that sounds like it was straight out of a porno, and Bo feels it travel like electricity down to his groin. You can feel him twitch deep inside you, kissing against your internal ridges. You're so tight that Bo can barely move without moaning like a bitch.  

He comes close to your face, watching your fucked out expression closely. His fingers speed up, deftly finding your clit and circling it like he's begging for you to cum around him. "'Gonna cum, sugar?" his southern drawl drags you out of your fever dream state and you nod up at him, failing to find words anymore. You grip his shoulders and you wrap your thighs around his waist. He laughs at the idea that you're stopping him from pulling out. You cum and he can feel you completely spasm around his cock. Bo knows he can't take another second of that intense pleasure before he's cumming so hard he's seeing coloured patches in his vision, moaning as he stills inside of you. Hot ropes of his cum spurt out into you, making you gasp from the new feeling.

Bo nearly collapses on top of you after, head laying on your comfortable chest while your fingers rake through his wet hair. He can't bring himself to pull out of you just yet, and he's still breathless from finishing inside you for the first time. He can feel your thighs rocking still with the aftershocks of the experience. He kisses your chest lightly and looks up at you.

"I love you, Sugar," he murmurs softly against your skin, "I love you so much."

You don't miss how one of his hands rubs gentle circles into your tummy.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent's biggest problem is his lack of communication. He can't simply speak about how he's feeling most of the time.

If he could, you may have found out about this sooner.

Vincent has always been more tolerant of children than Bo was so he experienced this quite early on but didn't know how to approach you about it.

He was worried that you would think he was weird or that you wouldn't want kids and then leave him.

So for months, he suffered in silence, fighting the urge to paint your insides with himself, and fantasising about what life would be like if you had a baby.

He's touched himself to the thought of you swollen and glowing, and imagining it's you he's coming in before the reality sets in again and he feels disgusted with himself once more.

You've started to notice his hesitance in intimate moments and you finally confront him, asking if he doesn't think you're attractive anymore.

He moves his hand to different parts of the basement, all filled with paintings and sculptures of you. It was a stupid thing to ask, of course, he thought you were gorgeous.

~~~~~

So you finally ask him what the problem was, and why he was suddenly not willing to touch you.

Vincent is of course quiet. He, in all honesty, was trying to hold off sex because he didn't feel he could trust himself to pull out anymore. He was worried that the temptation would be too great and he wouldn't be able to help himself. He's not really sure how he can say that and not come off as a huge pervert.

So he just comes close to you and embraces you momentarily, before placing a hand on your abdomen. It's just barely present but you can feel the touch. Then he takes his hands and makes a cradling motion.

For a moment you're confused. What does he mean by 'baby'? until it clicks in your mind. Did Vincent think you were pregnant? Was that why he was being so careful?

"Vinny, sweetheart, I'm not pregnant you dont need to worry about hurting me or anything-" Before you can finish, Vincent shakes his head and begins to sign.

'I know he looks at you to make sure you're following him, 'I think that's the problem'

Some sort of realisation becomes apparent to you and you ask the question he's been wanting to ask for months.

"Do you... Want a baby?"

He waits a moment and then nods before looking down. He begins signing again but doesn't look up, he doesn't want to see your grossed-out face.

'I was scared to force something on you but I wasn't sure how to say it. I didn't think I could trust my body during sex anymore.'

Your heart swells a little bit at the confession. Had Vincent been beating himself up for wanting to get you pregnant?

"I think I want a baby too, Vince" you giggle when his head shoots up from looking down at the floor. He signs too quickly for you to follow but you can just about catch the words 'Angel' and 'love'.

He stops signing and abruptly picks you up, spinning you before holding you bridal style in his arms. He hasn't said but you have an idea of where he's taking you. Vincent kicks the door to your shared bedroom open and gently places you on the covers. He removes his own clothing- save for his mask- and then patiently removes your own, kissing the skin that is revealed. 

Usually, Vincent gets quite needy during these moments, and his touch is feverish. He's painfully hard at this point, but he wants to savour you. He doesn't want to lose himself just yet. 

You're the one who removes his mask, taking in his flushed face and pulling him closer for a kiss. He can't begin to describe how much he loves you at this moment. He puts little weight on you as he traps you on the bed between his arms. 

You make a noise of surprise when he pulls back from you to lean on his feet. You're about to ask what he's doing but he's already sliding down your body to slot his head between your thighs. He gives the left of a small nip before kissing it again. Your core floods with anticipation when he gazes up at you like that. He waits for you to push his face closer to your folds to make sure you're okay. As soon as you do, he pushes his whole face against you, breathing you in and flattening his large tongue against your pussy. He lets out a raspy moan before he truly begins to lick. You know what's coming and the anticipation makes your thighs shudder around his head. 

He looks up through his hair to see you throw your head back in pleasure. He's always loved how you look like this, with his head between your thighs and your hands in his hair. The sight is so hot that he knows he could probably finish from it alone. 

Your breath hitches when you feel his hand travel from your hip to your folds. He uses his hand to part them before he gives a few kitten licks to your clit. His own eyes roll back as you spasm, and he continues that motion, fingers sliding into your wet core. He moves his two fingers slow and deep inside you, crooking them upwards halfway through each languid thrust. And just like that he can feel you tightening on his fingers with each lick and movement. Your moans get louder but he continues, spurred on by the look of pleasure you give him.

Your hips rut against his face and he moans against your clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking it. Just like that his fingers bring you over the edge, moaning and shaking as you wrap your legs around his face. Vincent removes his fingers and pushes his face into you again, licking up your juice before rising once more to be above you. You still look fucked out and he takes pride it in. You pull him in and kiss him deeply.

Vincent's hands travel down your thighs and stop at your knees. You briefly wonder what he's doing before he pushes them up and pins your legs against your chest. He's never tried this angle before.

But he likes it. A lot. 

You can see from his expression that he's enjoying the view and briefly his eyes flicker between you and a sketchbook. You grab his face gently and make him look at you.

"You can draw later. Right now I want you to fuck me, Vincent" 

His one good eye widens as if to say 'Yes ma'am' and before you know it, he's slotting himself into you, using his body weight to keep your legs pinned against your chest. Already he's so deep inside you that he's pushing against your sweet spot without trying. Vincent takes a moment to gather himself- he doesn't think he's ever been this deep inside you and suddenly he loves this position even more. He begins to roll his hips against you slowly, teasingly. He knows you want more so he begins to move, throwing a fair amount of his body weight into each deep thrust. Vincent can hear your breathless moan with each slap of his hips against your backside. He leans down on his strong left arm and uses his right to fondle your bouncing chest, making eye contact with you. It's your half-lidded hazy expression that makes his heart hammer in his chest. Vincent mouths the words 'I love you' and 'so pretty' over and over like a chant.

He's sure you can feel every little twitch and pulse of his cock with how tight you are around him. Fuck, he thinks, you feel so good. He's missed your pretty cunt so much and he's certain you've realised by how desperate his movement is becoming- degrading from measured, long, strong thrusts to irregular, quick jabs accompanied by crackly whimpers of pleasure. He's worried that he'll cum first now so he pulls his hand from your chest and pushes it between your folds to play with your clit.

A low, fractured murmur of "G-Gon' cu-um" falls from his open mouth and you're shocked for a moment.

Vincent stills against you and you feel your insides flood with warmth. The feeling along with his fingers still rubbing you tenderly, makes your own orgasm wash over you and he moans again as your pussy sucks him in further. He waits until you both finish before slowly pulling out of you, globs of excess cum seeping out of you. He uses his fingers to scoop the leaking cum up and fingers it back inside of you, humming when he sees that it isn't leaking anymore.

"I love you, Vinny," he looks at you and smiles, placing a pillow under your hips. He comes back to you with a flannel and washes the sweat from you and places a kiss on your forehead. Vincent lays beside you on the bed, placing his head against your chest and running his palm over the soft part of your tummy. 

Can I request a Bo Sinclair x Airhead reader? Literally someone that can easily get distracted because there's a butterfly flying around lol

Pairing: Bo Sinclair x reader headcannons

Contains: cursing, fluff, Bo is stressed, reader is happy

Bo loves ditzy girls very much, they’re are so his type

Bo loves that you make him feel smart, it makes him feel important and needed

He is more than happy to help you stay on task

He knows you’re not stupid, you’re just not attentive but you’re more than capable of having an intelligent conversation with him

He does really enjoy guiding you and explaining things to you, it gives him an inflated ego because he’s the one who gets to help you

He is more than willing to let you do your own thing until you come to him with questions

He loves when you ask him questions about the cars he works on, he’s also noticed that you’re starting to get some of the stuff he’s talking about

“Oh so I’m guessing the car overheated? Because the cool stuff ran out?” You ask one day when a car with a melted coolant hose came in

He felt so proud of you in that moment

He also loves it when you read new books and will come to him and ask him about why certain things happen so he can figure out the book with you

This man loves to watch movies or shows with investigative theme’s because he’s so happy when you guess correctly

Ok okay okay- I’m back and I just have to pitch this idea to you. Don’t feel like you need to write anything for it but I just need to slide this over to you. House of Wax setting again lol- okay so the clothes and outfits- the boys have a lot already from their previous victims. But sometimes they want something a bit different for an exhibit. Enter the S/O. Who’s sitting in the garage with Bo, sowing outfits together for Vincent’s new figures. She can’t be in the basement with Vincent since she needs proper light- but can’t be completely alone since the boys are still, even after years, unsure if she’ll try to leave.

So She’s just there, tongue sticking out as she thoughtfully sows glass beads onto a dress. And if any victims walk through the garage, and ask why she’s sowing in here or what she sowing- she’ll say;

“Oh its clothing for the museum”

“Oh I’m working on one of the girls prom dresses.”

“Oh, one of the old men in town ripped his pants again.”

“I just enjoy the company and music.”

She’s also always repairing the boy's clothes when stuff… happens (cough cough knife and chasing)

Angrily sitting there, sowing up Bo’s shirt and lecturing him. “I just re-did this Bo! Now I have to pause my work on the gown for Vincent.”

-🪴🖤

A/N: Hi hi hi 🪴🖤!! Thanks so much for the request and I love the idea! It’s so cute to think of one of the boys coming up with some clothes that need mending. Anyways, on with the one shot!

The Sinclair Seamstress

Sinclair Brothers One Shot

Summary: You find yourself as the personal seamstress for the Sinclair brothers.

TW: none 🖤

The radio was quiet, filling the kitchen with a soft melody which you hummed along to. You were hard at work at breakfast for the Sinclair brothers, whom you’d become very close to in your year in Ambrose. The toaster popped up beside you, and you held the pan that contained almost nine eggs worth of cheese covered scramble. You’d filled the house with an amazing aroma, mixing cheese and eggs and bacon, and onions in half because Bo and Lester liked onions and Vincent and you didn’t. You smiled as you grabbed the toast, now having two pieces for each of you. You placed the carefully on the plate and then buttered them all before putting the egg scramble between the two pieces, along with three pieces of fresh, crispy bacon.

“Somethin’ smells good.” You heard Bo’s raspy morning voice and it filled your chest with warm honey, making you turn around with his plate in your hands like a little kid presenting a handmade gift.

“Breakfast!” You said happily, setting his plate down where he usually sat, at the head of the table. “Sit.” You said, walking towards the fridge. You wanted to grab out the gallon of orange juice you’d gone so far to buy, but you knew that he’d hound you for a beer, so you skipped the hassle and grabbed one for him. You popped the cap off and set it besides his breakfast. Bo looked up at you with a quaint lopsided smile, which you knew meant he was pleased.

Before you could ask what he had planned for the day, you heard the creaking of the steps and whipped around to see Lester, sliding his loose old button up over one arm. As he moved, you noticed the huge hole near the armpit seam of the shirt.

“Lester, you can’t wear that. It’s falling apart.” You scolded and walked towards him, fingers finding the tear and tracing it.

Lester sighed, “Well I ain’t got another shirt today. It’s fine.”

“I can fix it for you before you leave. Do you have a sewing kit?”

Lester gave you a look with one eyebrow up. “You can sew?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I used to make my own clothes and stuff. It’s a really easy fix, no time at all.”

“…Well alright. I’m sure we got some sewin’ stuff somewhere.”

And this conversation was how you became a personal seamstress for the Sinclair brothers. You never thought you’d be in this position, living with three men in a town of wax and making clothes for their sculptures. But, here you sat, red fabric draping over your legs as you moved closer to the seams you were sewing. The only downside to this was that they didn’t own a sewing machine, so everything you made had to be by hand. This definitely simplified yours and Vincent’s designs, but you made it work.

The dress you were working on now was for a pretty blonde girl in a classy red cocktail dress. You were excited about the fitted bodice and the slight flare of the knee length skirt. Vincent was particular about this dress, and the girl that was about to become wax didn’t have anything that fit that vision.

You hummed to yourself as you sewed, enjoying the pace of the activity and the feeling of the fabric under your fingers. You were sequestered to your room in the house, locked, because the boys were dealing with a new group in town. But it was already close to two in the morning, so you decided that you’d stay in your room until sunrise and then you’d go out and look for them.

That concern and worry was quickly flushed away by the sound of the front door slamming shut and familiar big boots stomping up the stairs. You ran up to the door and unlocked it, seeing a sweaty but thankfully not injured Bo.

“Oh thank god.” You said, practically tackling him with your arms around his neck. “You scared the shit out of me, Bo.” You whispered. “Where are Lester and Vincent?”

“They’re alright. They’re in the workshop.”

You pulled away from him and nodded, sighing a breath of relief. As you stared at him, subconsciously scanning for injuries and blood like you were used to, you noticed a giant hole through your perfect sewing.

You reached forward and touched the edges of the tear. “Dammit Bo, I just fixed this! You guys can never keep your clothes in shape.”

“Not exactly my fault, darlin’.”

“Take it off. I already have my stuff out.” You grumbled, moving back towards your chair and moving the dress onto your bed.

“We’re gonna have to tell Vincent that this dress is gonna take longer now because I have to fix your shirt for the ninth time. And he also wants me to make a pair of pants for another sculpture, but-“

“You don’t have to fix it, doll.”

“Take your shirt off, Bo.”

Bo slid his button up off and handed it over to you with a sly smile on his face, chuckling a bit at the fact you were so perturbed at the hole in his shirt. You grabbed his shirt and finally your supplies, sitting back down in your chair to begin sewing.

Just then, you heard more footsteps clunk up the stairs. You looked up from your needle to see Vincent and Lester. And even though you were relieved that they were okay, the stack of drawings in Vincent’s hand, surely new clothes for his new sculptures, made you anything but happy.

Hello, I was just wondering what slashers you write for?

I write mostly for 

1) The sinclair brothers 

2) Michael Myers

3) Jason 

4) Brahms (the boy)

5) Ghost Face (billy and Stu)

6) Leather face 

I can’t think of many others at the moment but as long as you ask ill let you know!

I wish you would write a fic where….

Sinclair bros. gang bang tbh

Alright Nonnie, here we are. I've been wanting to write something like this for a while but the maximum number of people I've ever had sex with at the same time is one (1) so it was kind of daunting to tackle three at once (heh). It got away from me a little bit on the buildup but I hope you like it! Happy to write more like this in the future so if you want me to give it another shot, lmk.

The Sundress

Poly!Sinclairs x Hinge!AFAB!Reader

Smut, group sex, oral, voyeurism, praise kink/dirty talk, no pronouns used but reader wears a sundress, gets called "doll" and "pretty"

This morning you decided to wear a very particular sundress.

You found it at a thrift store on a solo venture into town. It was cute, had a tiny floral print and ruffles on the straps. It wasn’t completely your style, but there was just something about it. It fit your frame perfectly and at the same time, it was both scandalously short and devastatingly low-cut. You wondered if it was too much as you gave the skirt a little twirl in the dressing room mirror. There was a time when you wouldn’t dare wear something like that out of the house for fear of the attention it would attract.

Now, however, the only attention that existed in Ambrose was much more than welcome.

You went ahead and bought it. The thought of each of your boys’ reactions made you giddy and a little smug. You hung it in your closet and waited for the right day to come along to bring it out:  a day when you felt especially sexy and particularly devious. A day when things had finally calmed down after a long and busy week in which you all barely saw each other and most definitely had not spent any quality time together.

That morning, you took a few extra minutes getting ready. The stars had aligned for your little plan. Your hair was gorgeous. Your skin was glowing. You looked like a snack and felt like one too. You practically pranced down the stairs despite admonishing yourself to play it cool.

Bo and Vince were at the breakfast table, enjoying a leisurely morning after the hectic week. Bo had his nose deep in a Clive Barker novel, absently sipping his coffee. Vincent was chewing on toast and sketching.

“Good morning,” you say cheerfully, pulling open the fridge and leaning forward just a little to see if there was any orange juice left.

You hear Vincent stop chewing. Casting a glance over your shoulder, you watch him hit Bo in the arm, his eye glued to you.

“What the hell d’you – oh my.” Bo’s eyebrows shoot up and he immediately places his book facedown on the table. “Well good mornin’ to you, doll.”

You flash them a sugary smile as you pour yourself the dregs of the juice. Vinny’s eye is wide as a saucer. Bo is actually licking his lips. “Did you guys sleep well?”

“Sure did,” Bo says. “What d’you have planned for today?  Anything…in particular?”

You perch on the edge of the table, skirt sliding up beneath your ass just a little bit. “It’s supposed to be real hot today, so I figured I’d go through and water all the flowers one more time.”

Vincent is scribbling absently back and forth over his half-finished sketch. “Good plan,” he signs. “Need any help?”

“Nah, I think I’ll be alright. I can manage a hose, you know.”

“Yeah I bet you can,” Bo murmurs.

You smile at him. “What do you have on the list today?”

Bo talks and Vinny signs at the same time.

“Nothin’ much – ”

“Basically nothing – ”

“ – just gonna clean up around the station a little – ”

“ – probably going to do some inventory of art supplies, super boring – ”

“ – definitely gonna be, y’know, a little bit lonely….”

“ – could use some company for sure….”

A giggle almost escapes your lips. “Well, maybe I’ll catch up with you later.” You hop off the table, adjust your skirt, flounce to the doorway and then turn around. All eyes flick back up to your face. “Hey, when does Lester get back?”

“Lester?” Bo says flatly.

“Late, I think, very late,” Vincent signs.

“Oh, okay. Good to know. Bye guys.” You give them a little wave.

The morning passes with a shocking number of chance encounters. Something is broken in almost every building you visit, and Bo simply must fix it today. Similarly, Vincent informs you he needs to do a spot check of wax figures to make sure they’re holding up alright, and wouldn’t you know it, there are flowerbeds nearby every single one.

Watering flowers is hard work, and you can’t possibly be blamed for the sheen of sweat that glistens on your face and arms, nor the number of times you are required to bend over a planter box, nor the fact that you filled the watering can too full and splashed a little water on your bodice and Bo missed his aim with a hammer and smashed his thumb.

When the heat of the day rolls around in the mid-afternoon, you decide to break for lunch and head back up to the house. The twins are nowhere to be found. You are halfway up Main Street when the rattle of a familiar truck engine reaches your ears.

You turn around and beam at Lester, who is quite literally hanging out the driver’s side window. “Hey stranger!”

“Hey yourself,” he says, parking the truck in the middle of the road. “You look – well, now – that is a mighty fine dress.” He blushes.

“Thank you!” You give him a twirl.

His mouth is actually hanging open. He quickly closes it and swallows hard. “Y’know, I would…I’d offer you a ride, but…how ‘bout I just walk you home instead?”

“I would love that.”

Lester climbs out of the truck and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. He is remarkably clean, nothing but a few bloodstains below his knees. He offers you his arm, which you gladly take.

“Don’t you need to move the truck out of the road?”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Nobody comes here anyway. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, just watering flowers. It’s hot today.” You toss your head, fan yourself.

“You’re damn right. Been workin’ up a sweat, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Geez.” He cannot take his eyes off you. “Where’re Bo and Vincent?”

“I’m not sure. They’ve been hanging around all day, but I haven’t seen them for a minute.”

“Yeah I’ll bet they have. You’re prettier than a field o’ phlox, honey.”

You squeeze his arm. “Thank you, Les.”

He stops at the edge of the yard. “Hey listen. Lemme go change outta these clothes, then why don’t you and I sneak over to that lil meadow on the east side o’ town?  Do a little catchin’ up.”

“That sounds lovely.” You start towards the house.

“Ah-ah, why don’t you wait here?  I’ll just be a minute.”

You frown innocently. “But Lester, it’s hot.”

“Well I’ll grab you a drink and bring it back out with me. I jus’ don’t want you gettin’ sidetracked is all.”

“Okay I guess.” You shrug your bare shoulders.

“Be right back, sweet pea.” Lester kisses your cheek, immediately turns bright red, and practically leaps up the front steps and into the house.

Today has been quite the success so far, you think as you kick at the edge of the lawn with a sneakered foot. You’ve been in Ambrose and involved with the Sinclairs for a good while now; it’s nice to know you can still fluster them when you feel like it.

You wait around for a fair few minutes before the front door opens and Vincent steps out, beckons you. “Hey angel, why don’t you come inside?  I’m almost done with lunch.”

“Aw Vinny, that’s so sweet of you. But I told Lester I’d wait for him to finish changing.”

“C’mon, you know he’ll be a while. He’s got no concept of time.”

“You’re right about that. I am pretty hungry.”

You climb the stairs, step inside. Vincent shuts the door. Your eyes fall on Lester, who hasn’t even changed yet, standing next to Bo, who has his arms crossed over his chest. Vincent comes up behind you, weaves his strong arms around your waist, holds you against him. You furrow your brow in mock bewilderment. “What’s going on, guys?”

“You’ve been a regular little cocktease all day, that’s what,” Bo says.

“Me?”

“Yeah you.”

“It ain’t fair,” Lester pipes up.

“Prancin’ around all day lookin’ like that.”

You can’t help but smirk and shrug. “Sorry.”

Vincent drops his hands to your hips, pulls you a little closer. You feel a half-established erection pressing against your ass.

“Well, lucky for you, we’ve all come together and decided on a solution,” Bo announces, moving leisurely toward you. “You wanna put on a show, darlin’?  We’ll let you put on a show.”

A thrill shoots through you. “Well I suppose that’s only fair.”

“More’n fair, I think,” Bo says as he squares up in front of you.

The first press of Vinny’s lips to your neck sends chills down your back. Bo takes your chin in his hand and bends to capture your mouth. You feel Vincent suck at the thin skin behind your ear, relishing the salt of your sweat.

Already your brain begins to fray with the input of so many sensations at once. You put one hand over Vincent’s, grip Bo’s shirt in the other, and have almost forgotten there are three Sinclair brothers when you feel a gentle brush of fingers on your left thigh, then your right, and then Lester’s hands are beneath your skirt and sliding your panties down. You wonder where he can possibly fit in this arrangement for only a second before you feel his tongue on your sex.

A hopeless moan escapes your throat and Bo breaks your kiss. You open your eyes and note with satisfaction that his face is flushed beneath that smug expression.

“I sure do love seein’ you flustered, darlin’.”

“Right back atcha, sugar,” you say.

Oh, but he does love a spitfire. He seizes your lip with his teeth, running his thumb over your collarbones. Vincent slips the straps off your shoulders and continues his adoration of your skin. Lester, ever the dark horse, already has you unsteady on your feet with long, slow licks. You weave your fingers through his hair and arch your back as Vinny’s deft hands slip beneath the fabric of your dress to cup your breasts.

When you cannot possibly hold yourself up any longer thanks to Les’s ministrations, they disentangle themselves for a brief, heartbreaking moment so you can weave to the couch. You ease yourself back against Bo’s chest, let him hold your wrists in place around his neck, all but trembling with anticipation as Vincent positions himself at your entrance.

“Now darlin’,” Bo murmurs in your ear, “I don’t want poor Les feelin’ all left out here. So why don’t you keep your eyes on him while Vin makes you feel real good, alright?” You nod desperately, lock eyes with Lester, who winks at you. Bo cups your jaw, thumbs your lip. “An’ I’ll be right here, makin’ sure you know what a good job you’re doin’, what pretty sounds you’re makin’. Does that sound okay, doll?”

You open your mouth to respond and Vincent, ever the opportunist, picks that moment to ease himself into you, all the way, an inch at a time. The whine this elicits from you is positively wicked and you hear Bo chuckle against your temple.

“Goddamn, baby, you’re so much fun.”

As Vincent picks up the pace, hands running over your legs, you do your best to keep your gaze fixed on Lester, whose hungry expression leaves you feeling a whole new level of naked. All the while Bo pours a steady stream of praise and filthy commentary into your ear, rutting against your backside as his twin draws a series of sinful sounds from your lips.

Eventually Vincent trades Bo and Bo trades Lester, and you have the unique and genuine pleasure of experiencing the techniques of each one of them in quick succession. Somewhere along the way you are lost in oblivion, your body electric, lavished in kisses and caresses and admiration from all sides.

When at last you are spent and so are they, Bo brings you a glass of water, Lester plants a tender kiss on your brow, and Vincent carries you up to bed.

And that sundress sits in a heap on the floor, forgotten for now, until the next time you decide to capture your lovers’ attention.

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

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

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

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

𝕄𝕒𝕞𝕒'𝕤 𝔹𝕠𝕪

Bo Sinclair x Fem! Reader Smut !18+! !MDNI! Syn. Bo has the tendency to compare his wife to his mom, and she's getting real sick of it. Tags. unprotected sex, p in v, housewife-reader, toxic/dysfunctional marriage, implied verbal abuse, mommy-kink, hurt/comfort, slightest breeding-kink, mommy-issues (Bo's, not child's), Bo & reader's son's name is Billy, (no use of y/n) Word Count. 2.9k

Droplets of scalding oil fly off the heavily greased pan and hit your skin like prickles, shit hurts. Not as much as your eardrums do, though, same as your other arm you aren't using to hold the handle of the pan that's carrying the twenty-five-pound toddler in your other arm that's screaming bloody murder. 

"'Wanna play outside! MORE PLAYTIME!" another shriek of baby babbles wrecks the barrier protecting the shell of your ear. You groan, attempting to bounce Billy while also attempting to not burn the dinner on the pan, yeah that'd hurt more. Bo's been working 'round Ambrose all day, as usual, you don't need two temper tantrums to deal with over a burnt supper.

"God damn.." You suck in a breath when Billy knees into your side and you almost drop the food cooking. He's a growing boy for sure, pudgy small legs of his grown enough to land some fatal kicks. Bo would've laughed, except it's not funny, not when you're the one dealing with the kid all day. "You can't go outside, it's late baby." You try and reason with the kid, but you know, he's a kid.

"No! Wanna play! WANNA PLAY OUTSIDE!" He retorts, it's a nonexistent counter-point, not like he could make one anyway, his vocabulary is as small as he is. 

Another bubble of sizzling oil scars your wrist shaking the pan and you damn near snap at it. All things considered, to say you were overwhelmed is an understatement. The grip you have on Billy snugs and you let go of the panhandle, leaving the frying food on the stove, instead drifting your full attention to Billy's. 

"Enough." You elongate your words, mommy voice pitching deep and you wrap both hands around him, staring him down. "Daddy's gonna be home soon and that means supper then bed for you, no more playtime, 'specially when it's dark out." You scold. Billy whines and tosses around in your arms, dramatic showmanship but doesn't screech back at you anymore, at least. 

At this point, your patience is out the window, and while thank god your ears ain't bleeding, you need the toddler to just calm down so you can get back to finishing up dinner. About to burst, the door swings open first, cutting off the next little lecture you were going to dump on Billy, familiar taps on the old wooded floor, Bo's home. 

His boot turns and he grins at you and Billy, stepping to the kitchen quickly. "How're my babies?" Bo said before he could really process the exact situation he stepped into. 

Turning to face Bo rather than the miniature of him in your arms, your brows furrow at him, and Billy just keeps, whining. Squirming around in your arms while you glare at Bo, not that you're mad at him, okay maybe you are but not justifiably, at the moment you're just mad. Bo doesn't acknowledge it, instead looking around then to the stove. 

Shit, dinner. 

"You burnt supper," He gestures to the now char-blacked mix of ingredients inside the pan, nose and eyes crinkling in disgust at it. Funny, he's seen plenty of burnt shit, like corpses, but god forbid his dinner be burnt. 

You choose to ignore the statement. "Can you take him?" You ask instead, reaching your arms outward for Bo to take Billy out of them. He wails between your arms, tiny nails digging into your skin while you try to hand him to Bo, let him help out. 

"Can't handle him yourself?" Bo replies and doesn't take Billy out your arms, raising a judgemental brow at you. 

"Just take him so I can fix the food." You respond, nudging your chin up in the direction of Billy for Bo to take him, but he doesn't.

"Bo." His name parts from you in a restrained growl. 

Billy is out of your arms into Bo's now, but there isn't any sweetness in the expression Bo gives you when he does. Mercy isn't present in his gesture, taking the kid and giving you another judgy look in lieu of a willing expression as he does. 

Circling between the kitchen to living room Bo rocks Billy over his shoulder, letting him wail it out till he gets exhausted by his fit. Eventually, the whines soften to snores. A momentary silence as Bo rocks him in his arms, you opting out of remaking the earlier failed meal with Billy now sound asleep. For a second your eyes meet Bo's while you wash the burnt remains off of the pan, as he walks off with the sleeping toddler to put him to bed.

"Need help with that too?" He balances himself against the hardwood kitchen counter clicking his tongue from behind you, there's the tiniest amount of condescension in his voice. See that, that shit hurts a lot more than hot oil. Can't control that mouth of his, has a mind of its own, he told you once too many times by now when, if, he'd bother to check up on you after airing out his bullshit onto you. 

"No." You've learned not to engage with whatever got him pissed by now, not with Bo. Vincent doesn't, hell even Lester doesn't, why would you? Would be stupid to. Not like he hits you or anything anyway, just mouths off sick filth with absolutely no filter. Got the worst of tempers but he does enough gutting and beating in his own time when getting Vincent his wax muses.

A mock laugh erupts from Bo and he tilts himself forward to your side of the kitchen, leaning over the sink to look you in the eye. Once again, you ignore the bubbling rage emanating from him, boiling up. But you can handle heat. Spend half your day on the frypan taking care of the boys, even if it means the boys just burn you twice as much. 

Bo sucks in his teeth, and you can feel the room getting warmer, not the arousing kind, Bo's signature can be being a horny fucking mess, but also an angry one. "I don't get it." He scoffs, shaking his head at the unsaid words he isn't even gonna try and hold back on. "It's one kid, for fucks sake."

Now this, you know where this one's going. Reuccering theme of your husbands, the never-ending need to nitpick at your parenting. He bitches about damn well everything, but there are those times you feel the tips of your nerves itch all wrong, like a sixth sense at this point when he's about to spit those abhorrent words. 

"My Mama managed fine with three so," Ah, there it is, your least favourite words to ever grace God's green earth. Broken record at this point with how often Bo brings it up. 'My Mama never-' 'My Mama did-' Words that seemed to toss any left sanity you had in you into the fire you thought you had grown used to, but no you didn't. Because it burns more hellish each time it's said. 

"I'm sure she did." Your teeth grit while you speak feigning little control as you try and remain docile, not to fan the flame any further. 

"Shouldn't be burnin' dinner, you know your way 'round a fire." He adds, voice raising with each sentence. Damn straight you know your way around a fire, dealing with Bo's frenzies all the time, you've gone numb to the temperature he inflicts with his tongue.

"Billy was having a tantrum." You gently defend.

"You call that a tantrum?" Bo snorts, taunting the notion. "Small lil hissy-fit at best, darlin'. My Mama ain't never burnt no meals over my tantrums." 

"Well, I'm not your Mama." You snarl cutting him off, pupils jolting away from the dish you were scrubbing to Bo's. Sick and tired is one way to describe the crazy you were experiencing right now at Bo's statements. A band snapping in the kitchen between you and him 

The edge of his shoulders stiffens into a line, and for the first time since you've known him, you think you've burnt him instead. A woefully pathetic air casts in his over his eyes, turning pitiable. "No, you're not." He replies as if he's testing the words, tasting them in his mouth as he verbalizes them, and they taste bittersweet sort of wrong. An unfortunate truth. 

Not sure if you're more shocked at yourself, or Bo right now you simply pause at the sight. Bo is, in fact, not yelling back at you. Shutting you up in some pseudo-volume battle that'd sure to have woken up anyone asleep in the house. Instead, he just looks at you like a kicked dog, not too far from what he was, his life considered.

The air goes cold, bedsheets feeling extra plush around you, that sort of featherlight coolness engulfing you on the bed, odd. Rarely cold in Ambrose, even in the dead of night. Much less soft, you're more used to suffocating in heat, wax requires it to meld and shape, And Bo pours it out in all his hot-headed tantrums you get burdened with. 

Bed post creaking you look over your shoulder from your side and the familiar dip on the other side has Bo there finding his usual spot beside you. 

This isn't hellfire hot, this is limbo, off-putting quietude, yet not tranquil. A second passes and Bo just stares off at the rusted ceiling. Did you break Bo? Did you fuck it up this time, like seriously fuck it up with what you said? More disturbed by the blue tune of silence than hollering, you turn completely to him. 

"Uhm," You start, unsure of where you're going with your question. "You still mad at me?" If he was, you're sure you would've known it, Bo doesn't shy away from his anger or showcasing it. Still, you question. 

"I'm not mad at you, darlin'." Bo sighs, shutting his eyes to avoid yours, wrinkles of the eyelid creasing in some kind of negative emotion.

Gently rolling to Bo's side you land atop his chest pressing your cheek flat against it, hearing the thump of his heart, familiarized with it by now. His arm finds place around your side rubbing your back instinctively. "Just, you know, my Mama... My Mama was real different than ya. Different to how you're with Billy."

There's an internal tick being set off because you've heard him sing this song too many times, about his Mama. Not that you had anything against the lady, bless her for raising your man, and bless your man for respecting her, it's sweet. But it's the constant comparing that had you getting all worked up.

"Different to how you're with me..." He adds, swallowing back a lump, and perhaps if you haven't gone crazy officially, a tear as well. So, this is not where you were expecting the conversation to go. Bo's not mad, not picking at you for the expectation his mother set. 

"You're so, so patient. With Billy, with me." He praises, he's praising you. Not mad, not disappointed, grateful. "Don't hurt me, at all, only," He groans, the bridge of his brow pinching, eyes still shut as he speaks. A vulnerability in his tone. "You only do me good. Make me feel good."  He means it all, with complete genuineness. Almost as though he's shocked at you for it, 'cause Bo's never seen you hit Billy, the kid's only got scars from scruffy tree branches that scrapped his knees. Bo's are all too vivid, leather and duct tape that's no longer there but still stings in his wrists and ankles. Never knew a woman could get so gentle, not with how his mama was, yet you were.

You smooth a hand over his chest where you lay, up to his cheek, hovering over his waterline wiping off the tears before they've fallen with a soft motion. "Shh, Bo." You soothe.

"Christ darlin'. You're such a good Mommy..." Bo murmurs, releasing a shaky breath, opening his eyes to look at you. Disbelief apparent from the quake rumbling through the way he speaks right now. He mumbles something else intangible and pulls you flush closer to him. 

Sweat salts your skin, snapping hips up and down against each other room re-enveloped with familiar warmth while you swallow him whole. 

"O-Ohh.. S'good, such a good boy, Bo." You warble in mixed moans, absolutely drenching the sheets under the round of your ass Bo pounding languidly into your gushing cunt. Tips of your finger pushing indents into the muscle of his back. 

Fervor spilled through his mind as you tugged him down closer, pussy sucking him in the same. Pulling then pushing his cock by the full till the tip nearly slipped out then slamming in deeper. "Fuck yeah, feels good Mommy? I makin' you feel so good, huh?" He purred, dipping his head into the crook of your neck breath fanning right over your ears fuzzing out the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. "Oh fuuuck, Grippin' me like crazy, Mommy." 

Saliva doused into the crook of your neck, Bo sucking in the skin and lapping at it. Wanting to kiss you whole, fuck you full. Maybe fill you with another baby, because you've done so well with the first he's given you. Another time, though, right now all that swelled was his cock lodged deep into you and awe in his mind. 

You tossed your legs around his waist, shivers twisting the inside of your abdomen, Bo fucks good every time. His mouth is so much more lovable stuck on the sensitive inches of your flesh making out hickeys and love bruises rather pissy words. "Close! Mommy's s-so close!" You gasp, tugging him closer, close as can be so his body heat can burn you right, the way you deserved it. 

Feeling you pull him till bodies melded like molten wax, and your insides warming his cock, clenching in a steady increase, Bo hugged his arms around your waist. Pelvis slamming harder, quicker against yours, increased pace jackhammering your cunt. 

"Cum f'me. Come on, Cum for me, pretty Mama. Cum all over my cock Mommy," His voice mumbled in a strained groan, bordering a whimper, heavy breathed against the sticky spot he'd left into the corner of your neck and shoulder while he pushes you to climax.

Felt good to burn like this, to be loved by Bo. Your brain turned to mush and white stars of bliss flooded from your spasming cunt to your brain. "Fuck, Ohh yes! Cumming! Cumming!" Gripping his cock so tight he almost came right there and then, but graced himself while he plunged deep into you restlessly, riding out the onslaught of euphoria that burned your veins. 

You were fucked out, that much was certain, first orgasm hit hard, harder than any words he could beat you with. Already stressed out day, Bo fixing that for you, dutiful husband the such. Rolling his hips in slower motions as you calm down from your high, your thighs clamp around his hips feeling the sting of sex continue passed your orgasm.  

"Stay wimme Mommy, gimme one more, yeah?" Bo tilted his head, raising it so it hovered over your forehead, staying atop you with a lustful adoration in his eyes. He was lucky, that much was certain. Not much luck in his life, crazy dead daddy and mommy, favourite freak of a twin brother, got you though. He got himself the sweetest baby mama a man could ask for. That shit is the best luck if he'd ever felt it.

"One more, sweet Mommy, and I'll fuck ya full. Mhm?" He cooed, pressing his lips to yours and snapping his cock into you, regaining his previous pace as your pussy relaxed around him. Building his thrusts back into quickness while hugging you close, kissing you with love.

You warmed impossibly hot, like an unbridled flame. Clinging to him while he does to you, because you're his everything, because you're his wife, his mommy, his darling. "O-Oh, Oh god Mommy, gonna... Gonna-" Bo choked out, cock throbbing in you with each slap of his balls against your ass. body churning and tense fucking you quick as could be.

"Me too- Oh fuck!" You felt it coming harder than a tidal wave this time, Bo nearing his as well. Your eyes rolled behind your skull and Bo slammed his lips to yours again to shut his own pornish moans from spilling out, your pussy driving him to pure rapture.  

Ecstasy ran through you two's bodies and he delved his cock straight into you in a final thrust of needed high, balls tightening and spilling deep into you with strangled cries of pleasure filling your lips that parted his. Teeth clattering messily against each other while he rode out his high in your spasming pussy, you washing into the second state of bliss the night cumming hard around his cock.

Bo could be a horrid husband at times, but God be damned, was he a grateful one. So grateful, wanted to send you to heaven, and push you through it over and over. Hoping to keep the fire churning in you forever. 

But for now, his dick was spent. And his Mommy was already exhausted as be taking care of his kid all day, and also getting fucked stupid by him. He pulled out with a grunt and flopped to his side in the bed. "Supper would've been good, now." He mumbles in a snort, wrapping his loose-jointed arm around your waist and rubbing a hand over your bare curves.

"Don't even start.." You grumble softly, before letting out a soft giggle, the type that makes him go stupider than emptying his balls in you. A dumb grin overtook his face and he smiled at you, rolling slightly in the bed to face you. 

"Sorry, darlin'." Sorry's only happen after Bo fucked you, not after he yells, never after he scalds you with words. But you'll take it, if it meant getting dicked down by the best man in Ambrose. 

"It's okay." You reply in a soft sigh, nuzzling against him. His perfect Mommy.  

Lester Sinclair: enjoys the taste of plain carbonated water

Bo Sinclair: hates plain carbonated water and hates Lester for enjoying the taste of plain carbonated water

Vincent Sinclair: hasn't had a glass of water since he was 17 (lives entirely off of chocolate milk and orange juice)

Horror fanfictions are my bedtime stories. I wouldn't have it any other way.

halloweek day four (on day five)>>dry humping + public sex

>>bo, thomas, brahms

warnings: not edited!! sorry, maybe at a later date haha, semi-public sex, very small chance of getting caught (hot), dry humping, thigh riding, romance (gasp), feeling some soft bo today (does that make him ooc? maybe), mommy kink

a/n: i was today years old when i found out that i used to live less than an hour away from where tcm is based…come get me Tommy)

bo sinclair

(hhhhhhh pretty bo)

>>one friday evening, you’d convinced bo to take you on a drive through ambrose, claiming you wanted to “enjoy the thunderstorm”

>>he’d gotten back from the garage early and “just wanted a goddamn nap,” but you batted your pretty eyelashes and touched his chest and said “please, bo?” and he’d cracked

>>he’d sighed and rolled his eyes, but fetched his keys from the pocket of his coveralls and headed back out to the truck, muttering something about enjoying the goddamn thunderstorm from his bed

>>but he’d agreed to take you out

>>you did a happy dance and grabbed an oversized sweatshirt to throw over your comfy day clothes and followed him

>>he was already sitting in the truck, headlights illuminating the falling rain. Bo had an annoyed expression on his face, but you could have sworn his face softening when you got in the truck, breathless and damp

>>“I love the rain” You gave him a wild, joy-filled smile, and bo just looked your bare legs up and down before shaking his head

>>but you swore you saw a small smile on his face

>>he slung his arm over the back of your seat, twisting his body to see as he backed out of the drive

>>you immediately seized the opportunity to slide across the bench seat, nestling your body into his. He gave you a suspicious glance and a small shake of his head, but accepted it. He settled his arm onto your shoulders and reached across the wheel with his left hand to shift the truck into drive

Keep reading

Bo Sinclair Masterlist

Headcannons 

Slashers Meeting Their S/O

Slashers x S/O With Separation Anxiety

Slashers x Sick S/O

!NSFW! Slashers x Male S/O 

Bo Sinclair x Depressed S/O

Bo Sinclair x Selectively Mute S/O

Bo Sinclair x Randomly Hyper S/O

Housewife S/O Being Introduced to Hobbies 

Slashers x S/O That Gets Cold Easily

Slashers x S/O Who Gets Hurt While Killing

Slashers x S/O Struggling To Stay Awake

Slashers x S/O Having A Pillow Fight HCs

Slashers x Terminally ill/Badly Injured [Y/n]

Ambrose Boys x S/O Being Held Hostage/Attacked

Slashers x Insecure Thick Thighed S/O

Slashers x MTF Dysphoric S/O

Sinclair Boys x S/O Insecure About Their Weight 

One-Shots

!NSFW! ‘It Goes In Where Now?!’ Bo Sinclair x Male Reader

Contains: Bottom/Masochists Bo, Urethra Play, Top Reader, and Anal. 

‘Self Harm Comfort’ Bo Sinclair x Male Reader

Contains:  !GRAPHIC SELF HARM!, Self Harm Comfort, Self-Hatred, Self-Blame, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied Panic Attack

‘Sunsets’ Bo Sinclair x Male Reader

Contains: Homophobia, Comfort, First Meeting, Post-Relationship

!NSFW! ‘Whip it Out’ Bo Sinclair x GN Reader

Contains: Masochists Bo, Whipping, Hand Job, Dom Reader

!NSFW! ‘Punches n Kisses’ Bo Sinclair x Male Reader

Contains: Bottom Bo, Masochist Bo, Impact Play, Dub Con at the beginning, Blood Play Kinda, Manhandling, Rough Sex, Oral, Possessive Bo

!Slight NSFW! ‘Punishment’ Bo Sinclair x GN Reader

Contains: Spanking

!NSFW! ‘Poking the Bear’ Bo Sinclair x FTM Reader

Contains: Rough Sex, Upset Bo, Bratty Behavior, Hair Pulling, Oral, Gagging

!NSFW! ‘Unwanted Visitors’ Fem Bo Sinclair x Male Reader

Contains: Pegging, Jealous Sex, Minor S/A, Some S/A Comfort, Bottom Reader, Cock Ring, Dom Bo, Possessive Bo, Gender Bend Bo

!NSFW Short! Bo Sinclair x FTM Reader

Contains: Cunnilings, Church Shenanigans , Dress Wear

!NSFW! ‘Bo’s Malewife’ Bo Sinclair x FTM Reader

Contains: Domestic, Cunnilings, Vaginal Fingering, Smut, Vaginal Sex

‘Calming Down’ Bo Sinclair x GN Reader

Contains: Cuddles, Tics/Stims, Overstimulated. Mainly Self Indulgent

‘Bottling Things Up’ Bo Sinclair & Others x GN Reader

Contains: Gender Ambiguous Reader, Breakdowns, Emotional/Hurt Comfort, Soft Bo, Emotional Hurt

!NSFW! ‘Be Quiet Now’ Bo Sinclair x AFAB Reader

Contains: Vaginal Fingering, Ambiguous Reader (No pronouns stated),  Really only AFAB bc it mentions the Reader having a clit like once otherwise its pretty GN, Risky Lime, Public

!Suggestive Themes! ‘”You can’t do this-”’ Dennis Rafkin x Bo Sinclair

Contains: MxM Relationship, Suggestive Themes, Dennis being an obvious bottom, Mentions/Hinted to Murder

‘Idyat’ Bo Sinclair x GN Reader

Contains: Major Character Death, Cannon-Typical Violence, Blood & Violence, Angst & Fluffish, Childhood Friends, Gender Ambiguous Reader

!NSFW! Bo Sinclair x Dennis Rafkin

Contains: Oral, Sub Dennis, Dom Bo, Extremely Short- Like 100 Words Short

Slasher’s Hanging Out With S/O’s Child

Contains: Fluff, Brahms Making Clothes Because Why Not, Stu & Billy Hostage Situation, 5 Short One-Shots, Gender Ambiguous Reader & Child

‘Just Me and You Alone’ Bo Sinclair x GN Reader

Contains: Angst, Bo Sinclair Dealing With Some Issues, Character Death, Gender Ambiguous Reader

'Friends’ Bo Sinclair x Male Reader

Contains: Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, F Slur Used, Suppressed Feelings, Suggestive Beginning, Lightly Edited

‘Friends’ Pt.2 Bo Sinclair x Male Reader

Contains: F Slur, Angst/Kinda Comfort, Apologetic Bo

‘Drifting Away’ Bo Sinclair x Male Reader

Contains: Male Reader, Hallucinations, Derealization, Fucky Wucky Brain Time, Comfort, Soft Bo, Maybe Ooc but Idgaf, Lightly Edited

!Slight NSFW! ‘”What Else Would Ya Enjoy?”’ Bo Sinclair x Dennis Rafkin

Contains: Suggestive Themes, Dom Bo, Sub Dennis, Pent-Up Dennis, First Meeting Gone Horny, Murder, Alluded to Murder, Blood, Unsafe Choking, Dennis being a Masochist, Me Trying to be Funny

!NSFW! ‘Haha- Get Pegged’ Bo Sinclair x GN Reader

Contains: Sub Bo, Pegging, Dom Reader, GN Reader, No Pronouns/Genetalia Used for Reader, Crying, Hair Pulling, Overstimulation, Begging, Aftercare, Lightly Edited

Tommy, Jason, Michael, dbd Ghostface + the sinclairs and how they'd take to face sitting >:D

Y'ALL ARE ON POINT W THESE LATELY

Thank you for adding my Sinclair boys

headcanons and blurbs again!

NSFW

Thomas

This boy LIVES to please he's the first one laying down for you on god,,,

Since he doesn't have a nose he has to make up for stimulation with some fancy tongue work

Would not think of it himself so you'll have to be the one to recommend it

"I want to try something," you tell him one night after some making out and heavy petting. He looks confused as you mount him and straddle his chest but starts to understand once his eyes lock on your cunt above his face. He starts off slow and hesitant but really gets into it as you grind on his face. You come quickly and move to get off of him, but he quickly grabs your waist and pulls you back down.

Seems he has a new favorite position.

Jason

I believe that Jason is a pussy eating champ once he gets the hang of it

Also a pleaser so he will want to do this often

also needs a little encouragement at first but practice makes perfect!

You've just finished sucking him off (which you both really enjoy) when he makes it apparent he wants to return the favor. You're always open to the idea, but tonight you want something different. He's still laying on his back so it's very easy to just crawl over him and place yourself where you want. His hands instantly come up to help you ride his face.

He will definitely be wanting to do this anytime he can.

Michael

rarely gives in and says yes to face sitting but enjoys it

prefers 69-ing so he can get some as well but it is what it is!

He's fingering you roughly as he tongues your nipples, and you blurt that you've been wanting to sit on his face. He stops completely and thinks about it for a moment, and then manhandles you atop his face after flipping himself over. Even though he's never done it in this position before, he knows those spots that make you sing. He has you coming quicker than usual.

You get flipped over and stuffed full of his cock before you even fully recover.

Danny

will be into it but mean

uses it as a bargaining tool in my opinion,,

like ill let you ride my face is you let me fuck your ass or when you're crying from overstimulation

He's the one that brings it up at first, while you're tied up and at his mercy. You're already overstimulated and tearing up from the sensations racking your body. You're untied from the headboard and he pulls your limp body into his face. You try to move off of him because it's too much but he won't let you. He moves you long enough to tell you that you can still use your safe word if you feel like chickening out.

You both know you won't, so you let him take over once more.

Bo

won't admit but LOVES facesitting

pussy eating champ runner up

I think he likes to pretend he's a big tough guy but deep down,,,, SIMP

you do have to suck his dick in exchange but honestly, that's just business babey

He comes down your throat with a grunt and watches you with a sleazy grin as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. He kisses you as you stand, not caring about the taste, and says "I wanna eat your pussy, baby."

He saunters his way over to the bed and lays down, his cock hardening again as he looks at you. You make your way over and go to straddle his waist to continue your night but he shakes his head.

"No, I said I wanted to eat your pussy. Get the fuck up here."

Vincent

has no idea wtf he's doing but very willing to learn

favorite position because he gets to please you and you don't have to look at his face

win/win! (for him at least)

He doesn't like to take his mask off often but does so because he loves to eat you out. He's obsessed with your taste, and would often forgo his own pleasure to focus on yours. So when you bring up the idea he's very hesitant but wants to please you over anything. You sit on his face gingerly, easing him into it. He fumbles a bit at first but grips your ass in his hands and goes to town. You come hard, and feel something hit your back and turn to find that he came just from eating you out.

Just wait until you recommend 69-ing.

Slasherhaven’s Masterlist

Keep reading

What the slashers smell like :

Bo ;

He smells like cigarettes (menthol) , car oil and gasoline. the cheap gasoline smell, not the good one that makes your mouth water. On days he actually showers he’ll smell like the 3in1 body wash or very rarely irish spring soap bar.

Vincent ; {had help on this one 🧍🏻‍♀️ ngl }

wax of course because what else would he smell like, a musky smell mixed with sweat from slaving away in the basement & a lemon like smell. probably from the scent based waxes laying around.

Lester ;

he smells like animal blood, sweat BUT he uses deodorant he finds laying around so his B.O isn’t atrocious. you’d definitely give him a long hug though. he’s so precious i love his life.

Michael ;

he just straight up stinks. that’s my man and all and imma stand beside him but the homeboy just stinks. a whole can of bounce that ass. he probably has 16+ cavities built up over the years. he smells like a decaying body and pure shit.

Thomas/Bubba ;

they smell like flowers, meat and laundry detergent. i just know they’re clean. you cannot convince me that they aren’t the cleanest slashers in the history of slashing. chefs kiss.

Jason ;

mildew, dirt and fresh cut grass is what comes to my mind when i think about Jason. i just know his clothes are just full of that mildew scent. he probably don’t change his boxers either. love him tho

No one gets him like I do (I do not get him and he would kill me)

Me: I watch house of wax for the plot!

The plot:

This kid...

Bo: Where the hell did we find this fucking kid, man?

You/Reader: looks up from the bone bracelet they're making My mom threw me out the window when i was three, because she thought that I looked weird, and then you kinda just picked me up

Bo:...

Lester:...

Vincent:...

You/Reader: nods I remember that very vividly

Bo, Lester, & Vincent: wheeze

I love this

Saviors - Sinclair Brothers x F!Reader

Warnings: abuse but not from the Sinclairs, murder, language used against reader, Bo being out of character. Fluff, let me know if I missed anything.

A/n: this is possibly the second longest one-shot I've ever written besides petals and bullets. I hope you all like this one.

...

You, your two friends, well they were technically your boyfriend's friends and said boyfriend had decided that driving from California to Florida to go to Disney world would be cheaper and way more fun than flying. What a dumb idea that was. Your clock read just after midnight and you've made it just forty miles out of Baton Rouge when your back left tire blew on your Volkswagen minibus. 

"Fuck," you moan out as you gently pull to the side of the empty road.

"What? What happened?" The sudden jolt from the blow tire woke everyone including your easily irritated boyfriend, Ben. 

"I think we blew a tire so I pulled over," you say un buckling your seat belt just as you turned the key in the ignition. You open your door, the Louisiana air is sticky and wet. Of all the places to break down it had to be here. 

You stop next to your back left tire and inspect it, a rusted nail sticks out of the tire as it slowly deflates. You begin mumbling swears as you open the back of the minibus searching for the spare you are more the positive you replaced when the front tire blew six months ago. 

"Fucking damnit!" You place both hands in your hair giving a frustrated tug. 

 had already gotten out at this point and was standing next to you, his voice making you jump. 

"I asked you if you had put the spare back in, god do you always have to be so stupid!" He slams his fist against the side of the minibus. 

His anger makes you feel small, if there hadn't been people in the bus he would have punched you instead of the bus. 

"I-I could have sworn I put it in," you say barely above a whisper. 

"Yeah? You thought? Well you didn't and now we're stuck out here in bumfuck Louisiana!" 

"Hey, what's going on?" Rebecca rubs the sleep out of her eyes. 

"Y/n forgot to replace the spare tire and now we're stranded here til morning when another person probably comes down this road." 

You look down ashamed, reaching out to grab the camping gear and flashlight. You head off the road and just want to set up camp and sleep. You've been the only one driving for the last couple of days. 

"Come on let's just set up camp so we can all sleep and hopefully get help in the morning. 0 on, let's find level ground." You don't want to make Ben any madder than he already is. 

Everyone gets out of the van and follows behind you with sleeping bags and backpacks, in case someone stumbled upon the bus and decided to have some sticky fingers. 

Once you're all settled, you finally turn in for bed. Ben, still angry and annoyed, decided to sleep next to Rebecca and her boyfriend, leaving you alone near a tree stump. You let the tears flow freely from your tears. None of you noticed the truck slowly driving past with their lights off or the man that got out and took the spark plugs.

…

When the sun begins to rise you peek your eyes open and see everyone has already begun packing up camp, it seems they forgot to wake you. It's silent. Not the friendly enjoyable silence, no this silence is awkward, as thick as the Louisiana humidity. 

You walk back to the minibus, packing everything up as they all wait for a car as they lean up against the bus. Maxwell, Rebecca's boyfriend, opens the side of the bus to sit half inside and half out. 

You decide to turn the keys in the ignition to at least getting the inside of the bus cool. But to your surprise the ignition does turn over. 

"What the fuck is wrong now," you groan getting back out of the car and popping the hood, "where the fuck are the spark plugs?!" 

You slam the hood shut and walk over towards the trio standing outside the bus. 

"Who took the spark plugs out of the bus?" 

"What are you talking about?" Ben asks giving you an annoyed look. 

"The sparks are missing, did you guys hear anything last night?" You ask again looking around the three of them. 

However just before you can get your answer a truck comes round the bend. It's an old beat up pick up. The driver slows and stops just before you guys. 

"Well howdy there? Whatch y'all doing out here so early in the mornin'?" He's a scrawny man with a cute dog in the bed and you think that makes him all the more attractive too you. 

"Oh well we-" you're cut off by Ben. 

"Well my girlfriend here, she blew a tire and seemed to forget to get a new one. She also says she's missing her sparks but you know how women are with cars," he says roughly slamming his arm over your shoulder, making you flinch. The stranger's eyes flickered to you softening for just a moment before going back to a stoic look and staring at Ben. 

"I see well, I can take you to Ambrose, it's just 12 miles up the road, my brother owns a mechanic shop and he should be able ta help yall with yours problem. Only this is I only got room for two of ya's," he says rubbing his chin. 

"Why doesn't Y/n go? It is her car after all," Rebecca says looking at you. 

"I'll go too right babe? Can't have you going alone," Ben says, squeezing your shoulder painfully, you have to bite your lip from crying out. 

And so you and Ben pile into who you all found out to be Lester Sinclair. He was the youngest of three. 

"So where y'all from anyway? Don't seem like locals round these here parts," 

"Oh well-" 

"Were from California, driving cross country this summer to go and see disney world" 

You stay quiet now and just look down at your lap. You don't feel like getting Ben angry once again.

Lester looks at you from the corner of his eyes. Planning on ways to make your boyfriend shut up and let you speak for once. He had this overwhelming sense to protect you. Don't go thinking that healing black eye and the way you flinch any time that no good asshole would touch you. 

that. But why did yall choose to drive and not fly? Seems like you'd saved some time flying?" 

"Yeah well it seemed fun at the time until this one had to go and get the tire popped" Ben says annoyed. 

"Well shit, I forgot the roads flooded. We may have to go the long way." Lester says stopping in front of the road that leads into Ambrose. 

"Oh that's OK! We can walk from here, that way you don't have to worry about going an extra way," you say, smiling up at him with a genuine smile. He smiles back at you but doesn't miss the scowl on your boyfriend's face.

You wave at Lester after you've both exited the truck, you give jonesy a rub behind her ears and head over to the little step stones that have taken place in the washed out road.

"Come on, the faster we get into town the quicker we can get the shit we need and on the road again," Ben said, grabbing your arm and pulling you hard. He drags you all the way to the mechanics shop. He knocks on the front door. 

"Hello! We were told you were open and could help us!" Ben yells. 

…

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Bo was on the back roads talking with Lester. 

"She needs our help, he doesn't treat her right neither. She's got a healing black eye and every time he touched her she flinches, and you should've seen her, she's finer than frogs' hair split four ways," 

"Hmm, and you say she's got two other with 'er? Well bring them back to Vin and he can take care of them while I go and help our visitors. You grab them sparks and hide them in the house, right?" 

Lester shakes his head headed back into his truck to get Rebecca and her boyfriend. 

…

Back at the shop, Ben was getting impatient and you were bored. 

"I'm gonna go explore, since I'm just a woman and wouldn't know anything about cars right?" 

"You don't have to be such a bitch you know," he huffs. 

"Well you are such an asshole, after this all over and we're in Florida, I'm going to drop you all off and head home, beauce this," you say pointing between yourself and him, "is over. For good this time." 

He back hands you hard enough to draw blood from your lip that his fist made contact with.

"Fuck you Ben!" You screech, "find your own ways to Florida you fuckwad" you walk away up towards the house of wax wanting to clear your mind and maybe have a good cry. 

You are amazed when you make it up the hill to the beautiful building, only realizing as you got to the front that the architecture was made entirely of wax. You gently pushed open the door and stepped inside, giving  yourself your own guided tour of the house. 

Everything was beautiful and the little intimate details intrigued you. 

"These look so life like, the artist must have such magical hands," you say in a hushed voice as though you were in an art museum and let's be honest here you really were. 

Hiding in the shadows, watching you as you gushed on and on about his art work was Vincent Sinlair, the middle son of the Sinclair brothers and the artist behind the house of wax. 

His eye stared at you as though you were a beautiful piece of art that needed to be taken care of and looked after. He silently followed you around like a lost puppy. 

Once you finished admiring the art work and decided enough time had passed and Ben more than likely got the parts needed to get back on the road. You walk towards the exit when the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You peak over your shoulder and you are more than certain you saw a flash of long raven hair. 

…

Back at the mechanic shop just after you had left Bo's voice was heard booming from inside.

"Hold your fuckin' horses, I could hear you banging like all hell!" He opens the door with a scowl on his face, Bo hopes to see you there as well. With the way Lester was talking you up he was excited to see the beauty that was you. But alas you were there, only you annoyed looking boyfriend. 

"Whatchu need?" Bo asks, folding his arms over his chest. 

"My girlfriend's minibus has a popped tire and missing sparks. We need them as soon as you can give them to us. And I can make the pot sweeter," Ben says, pulling out a $100 from his wallet. You see Ben, Rebecca and Maxwell were silver spoon babies, you were lower middle class. 

"Well I'll be damned. As much as I'd like to take you up on your offer, I'll have to check in our basement to see if we have them. Why don't you come with and we can work out the price," Bo says, making room for Ben to come in through the door. Ben walks in further into the shop not paying any attention to where Bo had moved. Rookie mistake. Bo hits him over the head and Ben is out cold. 

When Ben wakes he is secured to an old barber chair under a grate in what he assumed to be the mechanic shop. He's gagged and wiggling trying to escape. He's screaming but nothing comes out. 

…..

When you make it to the mechanic shop, you try the door and are happy to see it's finally open. 

"Hello! Is anyone here? Ben! Where are you, you still here?" You ask out walking around, fingerings all the different products on the walls. 

"Why hello there darlin'" you jump at the sudden voice behind you. You are greeted with quite the sight, a gorgeous man with a trucker hat and mechanic overalls.

"H-hi! I um, I'm looking for the guy I was with, he came here to get a new tire and spark plugs. Have you seen him?" You can feel a blush creeping up your neck. Curse your affinity for getting nervous about gorgeous men talking to you and making you lose all sense of yourself. 

"That one fella with the permanent annoyed look? Yeah, I sent him on up to our house, we didn't have the right type or sparks here so I sent him up there to get help from my twin Vincent. I could take you up there if you want or you could wait here?" He says while taking his hat off and running his hand through his damp hair. It makes him look all the more attractive to you.

You smile at him, "is your brother the one who made the art in the house of wax by chance?" 

"That he is ma'am, that he is. He's our own lil family artist," he says showing off his award winning smirk, now how about we get you on up to your friend? Maybe even get some food in yall too. You must be hungry." Just as the words left his mouth your stomach growled causing you to blush and wrap your arms around your noisy tummy. 

You smile at him. You've smiled more around these two strangers than you ever had in your entire relationship with Ben.

"Of course, please lead the way," you follow after him and to his pick up truck, this one much nicer than the one you previously rode in only hours before. The silence on the drive to the house is silent but peaceful. 

You get a better peak at him as he drives, he's attractive and knows it. His hands are big and veiny. Suddenly you are having thoughts about how they'd feel between-woah there y/n you have a boyfriend. Wait wait no you don't you broke it off with the fuckwad. Yes continue with the thought of his fingers in between your thighs as he moves them in and out of your- 

"Doll?" Bo lays his hand on your shoulder startling you. 

"Yes?" The blood rushes to your cheeks and head almost making you dizzy.

"I said we're here now," he says while fixing his hat and getting out of the truck. 

"Oh." You peep out as you follow him into the house. It's beautiful, it's very homey and definitely has the feel that three grown men live here. 

"I'll get started on some lunch for you" he says walking to the kitchen as you stand awkwardly in the living room. 

There are footsteps heard coming up from what can be assumed is the basement. When the door opens you are met with a beautiful sight, a man appears sporting long black hair, half up in a mini bun. He's wearing a wax made mask. He was beautiful. 

"Wow you are beautiful," you say out loud. 

He head snaps towards you and he then signs 'Thank you' you smile, you took a few ASL classes in high school. 

"Are you the one who made all the beautiful sculptures in the wax museum?" 

'Yes, did you like them?' He signed again.

"I didn't just like them, I loved them! You have such a beautiful talent!" 

'Would you like to see more?' He signs, 'I have just finished one at the workshop I have in the basement of the house of wax,'

"I would love to, but I'm only in town until my minibus is fixed. It would've been a great honor to see it though!" 

Just ask he was about to reply, Bo is calling you both to the dining room table. 

…

The 3 of you are enjoying a wonderful meal when it's interrupted by the front door being slammed open. All three of your heads look towards and see Ben. 

"B-ben!" You stand abruptly. 

"Get the fuck away from them y/n! They are a bunch of freaks!" 

Neither man speaks as they are stiff as a board.

"What do you mean? They've been nothing but nice to me this entire time," you say staying put. 

"That one locked me up in some torture device!" He says pointing to Bo, causing you to look at him, "I think they're the ones behind the missing sparks and blown tire," this causes you to slightly step back. 

"Now darlin' it ain't what you think, ok maybe it is," Bo begins looking at Vincent for help. 

"Get the fuck over here now, so help me. Don't be fucking stupid!" Ben says. 

"What did you say?" You look at him. Without you even realizing, you subconsciously grabbed the knife on the table. You don't even realize what your doing until you hear Bo say "don't go at the throat or head. Vinny needs those intact." 

"I am so sick of you abusing me and belittling me! I am so sick of it!" You scream. 

"You wanna stay with the freaks you crazy bitch? Fine you do that but dont you ever forget who owns you." He says stepping back away from the three of you. "You don't own me, you've never owned me!" You land the first blow in his stomach twisting the blade. You don't stop until Bo is pulling you off of him. Holding you close to his chest as Vincent wipes away the tears that have begun to fall. You're free, you're finally free of the abuse. 

"We'll always protect you doll, always." Bo says as he holds you close and kisses the top of your head.