Vincent Sinclair X Reader - Tumblr Posts

This is (I think) my favourite gif of Vincent because FUCK I WANT HIM TO LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT AFTER IVE BEEN TIED UP.

Okay but I love this gif.

I headcanon that he tilts his head like this (he did it a few times in the movie) because he can only see out of that one eye. So this is just another way for him to clear his vision from his hair being in his face.

BUT ON TO THE HORNY

That's absolutely how he would look at you. Taking in all your curves and the different angles of your body. Commiting it all to his memory (and to his video camera) so he can recreate it in a wax sculpture or painting.

He would probably scavenge for some pretty ribbons or scarves, maybe even convince Lester to buy some at the next town, just to see the different materials on your body and how you look with different colors. Might even decide to put the paint on you if he's feeling particularly creative.

It will all end with him fucking you until you can barely remember your own name, body trembling and pussy swollen and tender from the pounding he just gave it, and your skin rubbed raw from the friction of the ropes/ribbons/scarves. Of course he would want to stare at you some more afterwards.

You'll probably be there a while 😌

Vincent my precious baby 😭🖤

My favorite boy :33

Oh my God! This is so cute! I love this so much! Thank you!

hello, I was wondering if you could do a female reader x Vincent Sinclair. Where the reader is very needy. Like she constantly just wants to be around him. They don't have to be talking just being around him is fine. If you don't write for house of wax that's fine. If you do this thank you. Have a good day!

Thank you for the request, I hope you like it. As I’m posting this I realized I kind of made the reader gender neutral because I never actually used pronouns. 🤍 gn!reader

You’re overwhelming, to say the least.

And that’s being kind. 

Vincent was his mother’s favorite, but even she had to cover his face. She might have favored him over Bo, but she didn’t love him, not the way a mother should. 

At least, that’s what you told him. 

Vincent was never sure if he should believe you or not. Bo had instilled in him that their mother was a saint. It was hard to lose that idealized image of her and replace it with the one you presented. But with the way you clung to him, hovered around him without a word, he started to wonder if maybe you had a point. 

Growing up, he wasn’t allowed to take the mask off. If he had to eat, his parent’s didn’t watch. He didn't know if it’s because he was so grotesque to them or because they couldn’t stand to see their failure. His mother was an artist, his father a doctor, yet somehow, they had created him. Formed him into this ugly and deformed creature. 

He struggled to reconcile with the fact that, maybe, someone truly could love him. He struggled with coming to terms that someone as kind as you, could love him. Most days he didn’t believe you. He would watch you carefully while you sat by his side. 

He waited for the inevitable, a look of disgust, a flinch when he came near. It never happened. He figured you were biding your time, sweetening him up and getting him to trust you before you made your escape. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the victims had done that to him. 

He almost wished he was right, that you were just a liar. He waited for you to slip up so he’d have a reason to keep you here forever in Ambrose. But you never did. Each day, you grew bolder, your presence nearly suffocated him. 

You don’t always touch him, you rarely ever talk. Your days are simply spent lingering around him, watching him work or reading while he sculpts. It’s odd, going from so many years on his own in his workshop to suddenly having a constant presence. 

He wonders why you don’t just go with Bo. He was the more handsome twin, more charming and funny. He could talk, he could walk around without a mask and be comfortable with himself. There was a clear language barrier between you and Vincent. 

His sign language was choppy at best because he’d had to learn it on his own. Bo and Lester learned some for him, but the family was pretty against it. You struggled to decipher his odd language but you still tried. He didn’t understand the effort. There was a “better” brother to choose from and, still, you stuck with him. 

Just as he looks over at you, you move from your spot by his desk. His fingers loosen around the tools in his hand while he watches you. You stretch, back bowing and a low groan leaving you as you finally move for the first time all day. You shoot him a smile before heading up the stairs out of his workshop. 

He stills and listens to the way your footsteps echo across the floorboards above him. You’re in the living room, you give a muffled greeting to Jonesy before heading towards the kitchen. His hands fidget restlessly with his tools but he can’t bring himself to get back to work. 

He hates when you go upstairs without him. He’s worried that one day he’ll hear the door open and close and he won't be able to get upstairs in time to get you back. He worries that he’ll hear Bo and you together upstairs, either in a fight or doing something worse. 

But you always come back. You’re never away from him for longer than you need to be. Your footsteps rush back towards the stairs and he feels some of the tension leave him. 

When you come back downstairs, a plate of food for you both, he pulls your chair closer to him. A silent invitation to stay close, one you eagerly accept. You sit beside him, leaning over his shoulder, and admire the sketches splayed out across his desk. 

You reach out, before he can stop you, and tug at the corner of one, pulling it out from under the others. Your eyes rove over the drawing of yourself, one of you sleeping on the couch he now keeps down here for you. You smile and glance up at him. When you lean forward and press a kiss against his masked cheek he wonders if maybe he needs you around just as much as you need him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie House of Wax, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Join me for my Halloween Palooza

Video Games:

Arthur Morgan

Conflicted Spaces ONE-SHOT

Connor RK800

Broken Machinery COMPLETED (Series)

Idol Talk ONE-SHOT

Frayed Wires ONE-SHOT

Markus RK200

Idol Talk ONE-SHOT

Joel Miller

Alone and Forsaken / Part two COMPLETED

Karl Heisenberg

Yandere HC’s (DARK)

Lord Reader HC’s

Cooper Howard

How About a Nuke? Masterlist COMPLETED

The End of the Beginning Masterlist

In Love Crazy ft. Barb ONE-SHOT / HC's

Movies:

Kid? ONE-SHOT

Nasty Dog ONE-SHOT 18+

We're Dating? ONE-SHOT

You’re Not Her ONE-SHOT 18+

Broken Promises / PT TWO 18+

SFW & NSFW Alphabets

I Don't Know Why I Bite ONE-SHOT

Not Your Priority ONE-SHOT

Mistake ONE-SHOT

Big Bad Wolf 18+ part of Halloween Palooza

Chameleon ONE-SHOT

Kate & Leopold (2001):

Timeless ONE-SHOT

Slashers:

Bo Sinclair

Bad Day / Part Two COMPLETED

One More Spring ONE-SHOT

Vincent Sinclair

Bad Day / Part Two COMPLETED

Needy ONE-SHOT

Wicked Influence part of Halloween Palooza

end. - I do not own the characters or the source material, but this writing and OC’s are my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Bad Day

part two

Bo Sinclair x fem!reader, Vincent Sinclair x fem!reader (not together, I don’t do that twincest shite) A/N: I don’t usually think about slashers until Halloween, but I’ve just had House of Wax brainrot for the past two weeks, so I wanted to get this out Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence (barely) Summary: Stranded on the side of the road with shitty friends, you’re forced to visit Ambrose, home of the infamous House Of Wax. Unfortunately for you, you manage to catch the attention of not one, but two of the Sinclair brothers.

“Hey, what’s that noise?”

Sarah looks over her shoulder at you and shrugs. “What’re you talking about?”

You roll your eyes and tap Dean on the shoulder, he grunts, the best answer you’ll get from him. “Pull over, I think something’s wrong with the car.” He gives you a questioning glance over his shoulder but shrugs and pulls onto the side of the desolate road. 

You could hear the rest of your friends pulling up behind you in their truck as you hopped out. You walk to the front of the car, popping open the hood and immediately regretting it as a cloud of smoke blasts you in the face. “Shit,” you hiss, backing up and fanning the air in front of your face. 

“Oh, fuck,” the angriest you’d ever heard your stoic friend Dean, and his voice was still barely above a whisper. Alison, Owen, Gwen, and Damien hopped out of their truck and came rushing over to the three of you. 

“What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong with Y/N’s piece of shit car.” You rolled your eyes at Sarah’s bitchy attitude, you don’t know why you agreed to this trip. You barely like any of them, they were horrible people and worse friends. You’re pretty sure the only reason they invited you was because Owen’s truck couldn’t fit all of them and you were the only one they knew with a big enough car for the rest. 

“I saw a sign, some place called Ambrose, we could try there. Might have someone who could help.”

You all glanced at each other, each of you trying to come up with a solution, but nothing was better than Owen’s suggestion. What's the worst that could happen?

Your car had managed to make it long enough to get to some campground, you really hadn’t been willing to just abandon it on the side of the road to be stolen. Now, you all sat in the grass, debating who should head into town. 

“Y/N should go. It’s her car.”

“Thank you, Allison,” you glared at her, “but I’m not willing to go into some strange town all on my own.”

Owen let out a loud sigh before he reluctantly said, “I’ll go with you.” You were overwhelmed by his kindness. Not. 

There was a high pitched scoff and you glanced over to see Allison glaring at her boyfriend. “You volunteered real quick.”

“Ally-”

She held up a hand and walked off, struggling slightly over the damp ground with her heels. Owen trailed after her, offering you a barely there apology as he left you with everyone else. You were acutely aware of how none of them would meet your eye. 

Up ahead, Ally was laying into Owen, probably another fight because she always thought he was trying to sleep with someone else. It didn’t take you long to realize you were on your own. You really hated these people. 

You stood up, shooting dirty looks over your shoulder as you started towards the woods Owen had determined would take you to Ambrose. “Thanks babe!”

You flipped Gwen off and kept walking. You grumbled to yourself as you tripped down the steep hill and cussed each of them out every time your foot sank into mud. The further down the hill you got the worse it was starting to smell. 

At first it was just musky and you assumed the stifling atmosphere was from the humidity. Then it started to really stink, putrid, rotting flesh stink. You gagged slightly the closer you got to the source of the smell. Your stomach was twisting and turning and you thought the skin inside your nose was burning as you tried to breath through your mouth. That only seemed to make it worse. Now you could taste the rot, feel it spilling down your throat.

“Y/N, wait!”

You jumped, looking over your shoulder at Owen approaching you, the rest of your friends behind him. The distraction cost you, though, your foot got twisted in a root and you let out a loud yelp as you went flying headfirst down the hill.  

“Oh, shit!” You could hear them laughing behind you as you rolled down the hill, your ribs and elbows busting against random rocks and roots. You hissed in pain when you finally came to a stop, already feeling a dozen different scrapes all along your body. 

You went to sit up but your hand sank into something soft and gooey, and oh god you were going to lose your lunch. 

You actually did throw up in your mouth, swallowing it with a burn as you scrambled desperately to get out of whatever putrid pit you were stuck in. You glanced around, finally coming across the source of the smell, dozens of carcasses surrounded you. Some of them so rotted you couldn’t even tell what animal it was anymore. 

You screamed as your hand finally found purchase on something. You glanced down at the hand wrapped around your own and shot up, your feet slipping and sliding against the gore. Two hands wrapped around your biceps and helped you, finally. 

You grasped onto the arms of whoever had you and practically leapt onto them in your attempt to escape. They pulled you away from the pit and you let out a shuddering sigh. “Thank you.”

You glanced up, finally getting to see the face of your savior. He had yellowed teeth, a sweat stained tank top on, and a very adorable smile as he patted your shoulder and backed off. “You alright?”

You let out a strained, “mhm,” as you attempted to catch your breath and not vomit on his feet. “There-“ you covered your mouth as bile rose up. You pointed towards the pit, taking in a deep breath, “Hand. Human hand.”

The man titled his head in confusion before walking over to the pit and digging around where you just were. You winced at the sound of squelching before he managed to reveal the hand once more. You jumped as he grabbed onto it, he laughed as he tugged at it until there was a loud pop and the hand came loose. 

“Anyone need a hand?”

Your friends, who had been standing at the top of the pit watching you struggle, stared at him with varying expressions of disgust. You let out an awkward laugh, relieved it had only been a mannequin and nothing worse. 

He turned around at the sound of your laughter and gave you another goofy smile. “Thank god,” you breathed. 

He came back towards you, completely unbothered by the death around him. “Sorry ‘bout your clothes.”

You glanced down at your shirt and grimaced, it was completely covered in brown blood and old bits of roadkill. “Not your fault.” You glanced towards the back of his truck, seeing old blood in the bed of it and realizing this is where he dumped the animals people hit on the highway. 

“Hey!” You both jumped at the booming voice and looked over to see Owen hopping awkwardly down the hill, skirting the dead bodies, and coming to stand next to you. The others hovered further behind. “You know where Ambrose is?”

The man ignored him, glancing at you. “That where you were heading?” You nodded and he scoffed, “Woulda been walking a long way. ‘Bout fifteen miles up the road.”

You elbowed Owen in the side and glared at him, “You said it was close!”

He rubbed his side and shrugged, “I don’t know, guess the walk was longer than I thought.” He evaded making any eye contact and stared at his shoes. You rolled your eyes, what an asshole. 

“I could give you a ride.”

You blanched at the man's suggestion, he seemed nice enough, but you really weren’t eager to get into a stranger’s truck. “No need, we’ll just take Owen’s truck.”

He shrugged, “Alright. But good luck getting in, there’s only one way to town and it’s not on any map.”

You let out a deep sigh, this day is just getting better and better. “We won’t be bothering you?” He shook his head and walked towards his truck, opening up the passenger door for you. 

You gave him a tense smile before digging your fingers into Owen’s arm and dragging him behind you. “You’re coming with me, don’t bother arguing.”

“Owen?” Allison shouted after him. 

The man answered before Owen could, “I’ll come back for y’all. Don’t you worry!” Something about the smile he shot at them, it was different than the one he’d directed towards you, there was something swimming between his yellowed teeth and honeyed smile. His eyes glittered with malicious intent and you shivered when he looked back at you. 

You didn’t really have another choice, you’d have to follow him. He, apparently, was the only one who could get you into town. You forced a kind smile on your face and thanked him as he helped you up in the truck. “I hope I don’t stink up your seats too bad,” you added as he rounded the front. 

You’d realized you’d spoken too soon when you actually got a chance to smell the interior of his truck. You clutched the seat as your eyes bulged out. Somehow, the inside was worse than the pit outside. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said as he hopped in the truck. You heard Owen groan under his breath beside you as he slammed the truck door close. 

“Shit,” he hissed, clutching his stomach and trying not to make a big deal about how fucking awful the truck smelled and felt. 

“I’m Lester,” the man told you, offering a hand for you to shake. You paused on holding your breath to tell him your and Owen’s names. “You’ll want to find Bo when we get into town. He’s the mechanic, he’ll be able to fix you up.”

You clutched the edge of the seat for the rest of the ride, trying to remain polite as you made small talk with Lester, but you could only hold your breath for so long. He seemed to pick up on your discomfort and rolled the windows down, “AC don’t work no more.”

“Maybe Bo could fix it.”

He glanced up at you, eyes lighting up like he’d never thought of that before. “Yeah! Maybe he could!” He let out a goofy laugh, slapping his thigh and smiling at you. “I ain’t never thought of that before.”

You let out a weak chuckle, the reaction was pretty extreme for something as simple as suggesting you got to a mechanic for car problems. Owen shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Fuckin’ Christ.” He muttered, glancing at Lester out of the corner of his eye and shaking his head. 

You elbowed him again, ignoring his noise of pain and silently threatening him to shut up. You understood that Lester might stink and have strange reactions, but Christ, he was giving you both a ride fifteen miles out of his way. He could be a little more appreciative. 

“Alright,” the truck slowly rumbled to a stop. “We’re here.”

You glanced at Lester and then the clear lack of town through the windshield. “Um, what?”

He chuckled slightly, “It’s around the bend. Truck can’t go over that, though.” You followed the direction of his gaze and lifted yourself from the seat to see a little creek and a broken bridge. “Go ahead and I’ll go back for your friends.”

Owen opened the door, practically flying out of the truck. He took in deep and dramatic inhales as the stifling Louisiana air hit him in the face. You rolled your eyes at him and turned back towards Lester, “Thank you so much for the help.”

He gave you a strange look, not quite mean but not very friendly, “Don’t thank me yet.” You had barely closed the door before he was peeling off. 

You turned towards Owen but he just shrugged, “I don’t know man, I just want to get the fuck out of here.”

You nodded, turning towards the creek, “Agreed.”

You were thankful you’d chosen a black tank top, the sun was beating directly down on you and you were pretty sure you had already sweat through every layer you had on. You were desperate for a hair clip or rubber band or literally anything to get your hair off your neck. Another minute sweating like this and you were just going to chop it all off. 

“Hey, up there.”

“Finally!” You and Owen both sped up, rushing towards the auto shop, eager to get somewhere with air conditioning. But when Owen tried the door it wouldn’t budge, he pulled and pushed, wiggled it way too many times and you snapped. “It’s locked, dipshit!”

“Think I don’t know that?” He snapped back. 

You crossed your arms and glared at him, “Then let it go and give up.” He let out a pissy sigh and whirled around, canvassing the rest of town. His eyes landed on the small chapel and he nudged you, pointing at it.

“Maybe there’s someone in there.”

You followed hesitantly after him as he walked towards it. The closer you got the louder the voices inside were. “Wait, Owen, I think there’s a service going on. We shouldn’t just barge in.”

He rolled his eyes and ignored you, throwing the door open without care and glaring inside. You shriveled up in embarrassment when you saw a man kneeling at the front of the chapel. You dared a step closer and winced, he was kneeling in front of a coffin. 

God, you guys looked like such assholes. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, grabbing Owen by the collar of his shirt and yanking him back outside. You shoved him down the steps and he stumbled, glaring at you. 

“Y/N, what the hell?”

“It was a funeral service you jackass!” You hissed back at him, unwilling to raise your voice and further disrupt those poor people’s mourning. You were halfway across the street when you heard the door behind you open. 

You tensed up, mentally preparing yourself to face whoever had decided to scold you both. “Can I help you folks?” You turned at the sound of a smooth southern accent and felt heat rise to your cheeks. Well, more heat, you were about as hot as you could get right now. 

But the man in front of you seemed perfectly comfortable in his all black suit, glaring down at you both from the top of the stairs. You were a little ashamed how attracted to him you were. He was mourning, attending the funeral of someone who was probably close to him and you were drooling over how good he looked in a suit. 

To be fair, he did look very nice in a suit. 

“I am so sorry, sir, I tried to stop him.”

Owen nudged you slightly, “Shut up, Y/N.” You glared at him but he just crossed his arms and looked down his nose at the man in front of you. “We’re looking for Bo. You seen him?”

The man’s voice was full of anger as he sneered at Owen, “You’re talkin’ to him.”

Owen glanced back at you, a mean look on his face. “Her car broke down, can you fix it?”

Bo scoffed, staring down at Owen with a disgusted expression. You knew what he was thinking, how demanding and dickish Owen was. Especially when he knew what Bo had been doing only moments before. You intervened before Owen could dig a deeper hole. 

“Don’t worry about it, sir. I’m really sorry we interrupted you.”

“Y/N-”

“Shut up before I make you,” you leveled Owen with a glare. You let the group get away with a lot, talking shit to you and about you constantly. You didn’t really care enough to stop them, but you weren’t about to let him continue to disrespect the only person who could actually help you out of this hellhole. 

Owen seemed to get the message and scoffed, walking off with an attitude. Though, he didn’t have anywhere to go considering pretty much every business was closed. So he stood in the street, kicking at gravel like a toddler. You rolled your eyes and turned back to Bo, a little surprised to find him already staring down at you. 

You couldn’t decipher the look he was giving you, but it didn’t make you feel very comfortable. Though, that could just be the anxiety from your rude companion. “Sorry, again.”

You turned around, ready to walk back to the others, when he stopped you. “I’ll help you!” 

You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded, “Give me a little while to finish up here and I’ll meet you at the shop.”

You nodded, a smile slowly rising on your lips. Maybe this day wasn’t completely lost. “Of course, take your time, thank you so much, seriously.”

He nodded, still looking unimpressed. “Uh-huh. Uh, you could check out the House of Wax, might make the time pass quicker.”

You nodded again but he didn’t bother waiting for a response, already heading back inside the church. He left just in time for the rest of the group to come walking up the street. Owen ran towards them, leaving you behind. You noticed a clear lack of Gwen or Damien and figured they’d stayed behind with the cars or something. 

You caught up with them just as Owen finished filling them in on what was going on. “So we have to wait?” Sarah whined, practically stomping her feet. 

“Yes, because he’s currently burying someone,” you deadpanned. You glanced towards the building towering over the town on top of a hill. “But we can always check out the House of Wax.”

”Yippee,” Allison mumbled sarcastically. 

You broke off quickly from the rest of the group, immediately embarrassed by how they behaved in the museum. Owen had started off strong, catcalling one of the wax women and groping her. You wandered towards the back of the building, a figure of a dog catching your attention. You hadn’t seen any other animals in here. 

Wow, its fur looked so realistic. 

You knelt down, getting closer, and shot back in fear as it barked at you. You let out a loud yelp as you landed on your ass, watching the very real dog growl at you. 

“Holy shit, did not think you were real.” You held up your hands in surrender, “Good girl, it’s okay.” After a minute she stopped growling and slowly moved towards you. You smiled as you pet her, running your fingers through her fur and laughing when she licked your hands. ”Aren’t you sweet?”

You heard a creak in the doorway behind her and your head shot up. A man loomed over you, a wax mask over his face and long black locks hanging over his shoulders. “Hi,” you whispered, completely thrown off by his appearance. 

“Do you work here?”

Nothing. 

He had to, if the mask was anything to go by, maybe it was like some outfit they made the employees wear. You glanced down at his hands, you could see wax covering them and sculpting tools in the belt slung around his hip. “Oh, are you an artist?” You asked, tone a little more excited. 

He tilted his head, and you felt your heart speed up when he stepped closer. The dog left you, walking over to him with her tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. He reached down, not breaking his stare with you, and pet her lightly. 

You got to your feet, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was making you. Finally, he nodded. 

“Well,” you stuttered slightly over your words, tongue tied with anxiety. “They’re all amazing. I accidentally bumped into one and apologized because I thought it was real,” your words trailed off with an awkward chuckle. “I even thought your dog was real, she scared me half to death when she moved.”

God, kill me now, this had to be the most awkward one sided interaction you’ve ever had with someone. “D-,” you cleared your throat, trying to get your voice to stop cracking. “Did you do this?” You pointed to the scene behind you, a family eating dinner at a dusty wooden table.

He shook his head, slowly lumbering past you and lifting the woman’s hair. You took a hesitant step forward and peered at the back of her neck where he was pointing. 

TS was carved into the wax. “TS?” Your eyes narrowed before it finally clicked in your head. “Trudy Sinclair?” He nodded and you smiled. “Oh, yeah, I saw an article about her up front. She’s the woman that runs the museum, right?” Another nod. Maybe he was mute. Maybe he wasn’t some freaky serial killer that was about to use that scalpel in his belt to slit your throat. 

Please just be extremely socially awkward. 

“Whole place is wax,” you dumbly pointed out, because clearly he knew that. “Pretty impressive.” He straightened up, moving the woman’s hair back in place and carefully brushing it out with his fingers. The care in which he treated the mannequin was a little off putting, he was acting like she was living and breathing, something to be coddled. “Um,” you stopped staring at his hands, focusing once again on his waxed face. “What’s your name?”

He took a step forward, then another and another until he was standing right in front of you, sharing the air you breathed. You couldn’t help but gulp, feet glued to the floor as the dark holes in his mask burned into you. In your peripheral you watched as his arm stretched out and winced slightly, prepared for a hit or stab or something. 

But it just hovered in the air, after a moment you realized he was pointing at something. You turned around and found a signature scrawled into another wax figure. 

Vincent

“Vincent,” you let out a sigh of relief and held out a hand, giving him your own name. After a moment he took your hand, grip tight to the point that it hurt. But he didn’t shake it like you’d expected, instead he moved his hand up your arm, digging his fingers into your forearm and dragging you back to the front door. You whimpered when he opened the door and threw you outside. 

You clutched your forearm to your chest, rubbing the forming bruises as the door slammed in your face. “Well, fuck you too then,” you muttered under your breath. You turned around glancing down the street and seeing Allison and Owen already walking towards the auto shop. You bound down the steps and run after them, panting when you finally catch up. 

“Where’s Sarah and Dean?”

Allison snorted, “Said they found a bed upstairs.” She glanced at you, “I think you can put two and two together.”

Your nose wrinkled and you groaned, “That’s disgusting. The guy that runs the place is literally in there.”

“Don’t be a prude,” Owen admonished. “They’re just screwing around.”

You glanced back at the House of Wax, seeing a figure moving in the window of the upper floor and shook your head. Jackasses. 

Bo was waiting for you all at the door of the auto shop. He was still in his black suit, except this time he had an easygoing grin on his face. A complete 180 from the man who looked ready to rip Owen’s dick off for interrupting a funeral. 

He gave you a particularly large smile as you approached, holding the door open for you as you entered the shop. You didn’t get the relief you were hoping for, the air in here almost as stifling as it was outside. It was maybe two degrees cooler. Whatever, you’d take what you could get on such a shitty day. 

“You know what the problem is with your car, sweetheart?” 

It took an awkward moment of silence to realize he was talking to you. When you looked up from the floor you saw his gaze drilling into yours, not missing the way his eyes flitted down to your low cut top and then back up. You couldn’t really blame him, you’d been eyeing him since he introduced himself. 

“Um,” you glanced towards Owen. “What did Dean say it was?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, an unsure look on his face. “Something about a hose.”

Bo nodded, sucking on his teeth before he went to the back of his shop. You rocked back and forth on your heels, ignoring the other two who were wandering around his shop and whispering to themselves. “Hey, honey, you mind comin’ back here a minute?”

You peered around the doorway and saw Bo bent over rummaging around in some boxes. “Me?”

He looked over his shoulder and chuckled, “Who else?”

You were about to step forward when you heard Allison hiss your name. You turned around and she pulled her top down mouthing ‘maybe he’ll give you a discount,’ pointing to your own shirt and laughing. You crossed your arms reflexively, covering your breasts from her view and tugging your shirt higher up to be petty. She rolled her eyes, clearly called you a prude, and turned back around. 

You really needed new friends. 

You walked into the back of Bo’s shop, taking in the different tools and boxes along the walls. “What’s up?”

“Any of these look right?”

You glanced down at the hoses he had laid out, the blood draining from your face when you realized you did not know anything about your car. You really hadn’t even known a hose was a thing until today. “Um, I’m not sure.”

“Well,” he started, losing some patience as his tone took a curt edge. Your stomach toiled with anxiety, not liking the idea of him getting pissed at you. “You know what size ya need?” 

You cleared your throat, “Owen!” You called out the door, you heard a grumbled what in response. “You know what size I need?”

“Two and a half!”

You missed Bo sliding a hose under his work table as you turned back around, scanning the tags and frowning when you saw he didn’t have the right size. “There’s a two, would that work?” You asked, picking the hose up and holding it out to him. 

His tongue poked into his cheek and he shook his head, “‘Fraid not, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” you placed the hose back down and rubbed your face, wincing as you remembered you were still covered in innards. “Ugh, gross,” you pulled your hands away from your face and could already feel streaks of blood on your cheeks. 

Bo chuckled and reached for a clean rag off his work table. He gave you a charming smile and wiped the blood off your face. You tried not to let yourself be too affected by how close he was, but it was hard, really, really, hard. So, as you always do in situations you don’t know how to handle, you blabber. 

“House of Wax was really cool,” you mumble.

“Hm,” he hums, not interested at all as his gaze darts down to your lips. 

“Yeah, the guy, Vincent, I don’t think he liked me very much,” you let out a barely audible laugh, remembering his harsh treatment as he tossed you out. 

Bo froze, his eyelids dropping slightly as the tender look on his face melted away, replaced by something you didn’t understand. Or didn’t want to understand. The hair on the back of your neck was standing up as goosebumps traveled along your arms. You weren’t cold, not in the slightest, this felt like something else. Like an instinctual response to a predator. 

You backed away a step, no longer feeling comfortable being so close to him. “What’d you say?” His voice was low, so low you could almost mistake it for a growl. 

“Um,” you swallowed harshly, throat parched and lips completely dried by the humidity. “Vincent,” you didn’t like how small your voice was. Didn’t like how quickly the atmosphere had shifted from something charged to something dangerous. “He- he showed me some wax sculptures and then he tossed me out.”

“You saw Vincent?” You nodded, backing a step further when he approached you. He noticed and let out a low laugh, the grin returning, but there were entirely too many teeth. “You say anything? ‘Bout his mask? How quiet he was?” He probed, his tone almost teasing like he wanted you to say Yeah, called him a freak and laughed at him. Like he wanted to use your response as an excuse for something. 

You shook your head quickly, “No. No, of course not,” you were quick to defend yourself, trying to sound as sincere as possible. You didn’t want him to think you were as rude as your traveling companions. “I thought maybe all the museum workers had to wear those. Like a theme or something. And,” you stumbled slightly over your words as he moved towards you again. You stepped back towards the doorway, trying to get back in the view of the others. “And I can be pretty quiet myself, I didn’t think it would be kind to pry.”

He finally stopped, but it wasn’t enough to calm you down. You still could feel your heart pounding against your chest, going so fast you felt a little dizzy. You weren’t an idiot, you knew how risky it was approaching so many strange men in one day. But you had been trapped, like a mouse dropped in a maze, constantly searching for a way out. 

You’d had no choice but to accept help from all the people you’d interacted with in this town, but you didn’t forget how much danger they could pose to you and your friends. You were all too aware of how stupid it was to be in a room with this stranger. 

This stranger who switched between masks so fast you got whiplash. Just as quickly as it had disappeared, his smile was back, still just as handsome, but no longer disarming. He shrugged, “Vincent doesn’t show himself to anyone, really. Just a little curious, that’s all. And that mask is all him, sweetheart.”

“Right,” you forced a smile, moving out of the way so he could walk back into the main part of the shop. 

He clapped his hands together, getting the attention of the others. “Sorry folks but I don’t got the parts you need here.”

Allison and Owen both let out loud groans, their voices blending together in anger as they harassed Bo for not having the one car part they needed. You winced as they yelled at him, demanding to know how he even called himself a mechanic if he didn’t have one simple part. You could see Bo’s patience leaving him again, jaw clenching and teeth grinding together. 

“Shut up!” You shouted, glaring at them from behind Bo. “Jesus, act your fucking ages,” you muttered, storming past Bo and going to stand near them. You didn’t bother looking at any of them, despite the stares you could feel boring into you. 

“Thank you,” Bo mumbled before his voice rose again. “As I was sayin’ I got some parts up at my house. Only about a ten minute walk, you could use the bathroom, clean up, I’ll see if I have what you need.”

Allison and Owen shared a look before turning towards you, the both of them huddling around you. “I don’t want to go anywhere near that freak’s house. He’s probably got some redneck sex dungeon.”

“Allison,” you admonished, looking over her shoulder to make sure Bo hadn’t heard. He seemed preoccupied with something under his desk. “Shut up, he’s being nice and putting up with our shit. I mean, he just buried someone guys, and he’s still trying to help. Least you could do is be respectful.”

Allison huffed and sighed and rolled her eyes before finally nodding, “Fine. But I’m using you as a human shield if shit goes south.”

“Fine by me,” you muttered, pushing away from them both and smiling at Bo. “If you don’t mind, we’d love to go.”

He nodded, smiling at you before walking to the door. He opened it but he didn’t leave until he threw over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, if I was taking anyone to my dungeon it’d be this one.” You squeaked as he pinched your waist and walked out. 

Allison scoffed, like she was offended, and followed after him. 

“So,” Bo started, slowing down so you could catch up to him. You sped up slightly, matching his stride and giving him a small smile as he stared at you. “What’re you doin’ with these jackasses?”

You couldn’t stop a snort from slipping out at his blunt language. You glanced behind you, watching Allison and Owen bicker about something and turned back towards him, shrugging. “I don’t know, they needed my car and I wanted to get out of the house, I guess.”

“Well, how long you been friends?”

“Not long, I met Allison a year ago and I guess I just started hanging around them.”

“You don’t seem to get along real well.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, a fact in his eyes that you didn’t belong with them. And he was probably right, you hated them, they hated you. 

“Only reason I’ve stuck around this long is ‘cause I don’t have anyone else.”

You didn’t notice how he perked up, how quickly he tuned into the loneliness in your words and pounced. You should have, for someone so perceptive and paranoid, but you were too busy grimacing at a chunk of dead something in your shorts pocket. 

“No one? No family? No other friends? No one to notice-” He cut himself off, once again sending you a smile, though this one seemed more sympathetic than anything. Like he knew your pain and could relate to it. 

“Yeah, no one.”

“Hm,” he offered nothing else. Just another hum and a nod as you approached the house at the top of the incline. He walked up to the front door, unlocking it, and turning around to survey you all. “Anyone need the can?”

Owen stepped forward, Allison clinging to his arm with a paranoid look on her face, eyes darting all around the perimeter of the house. Bo glanced behind them at you, “Sweetheart?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.” He might be charming but there was no way in hell you were just gonna wander in blind to his house. 

“You sure? I could give you a change of clothes.”

Before you could figure out a polite way to decline again, Allison had grabbed onto the strap of your tank top and was dragging you up the porch. “Please, fuck, I can’t stand the smell anymore.”

You ripped your arm out of her grasp, jumping as the door slammed closed behind you. For a moment the house stayed dark, no light and no noise other than the sound of your breathing. Then you heard a click and light shone down on a cluttered living room and outdated kitchen. 

“Sorry, haven’t had time for the maid,” Bo muttered sarcastically. He turned towards you, motioning you forward and, reluctantly, you followed. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.” Owen nodded, heading down the hallway while Allison stayed planted by the door. 

“I’ll show you my room and you can get changed.”

”Thanks,” you followed him wearily up the stairs, jumping every time the old wood creaked. “I really appreciate this, I know we’ve bugged you a lot today.”

”Yeah, you have.” You frowned, taken aback by how honest he sounded. In your defense, he had offered up his house to you guys. He turned around and must’ve seen the disgruntled look on your face because another grin broke out and he laughed, “I’m messin’ with ya. Relax, it’s no trouble at all for such a pretty lady.”

He opened up the door at the top of the stairs and stepped inside. You heard him moving around, drawers opening and slamming shut before he emerged again a pile of unfolded clothes in his hand. “Here, you can use the room to change.”

You nodded and stepped inside, quick to lock the door behind you. You waited until you heard his footsteps going back down the stairs to strip out of your clothes and change. You moved as quickly as you possibly could, a little paranoid that he had cameras in his room or something, watching you. 

You weren’t sure what had changed. Maybe it was Allison’s insistence that he actually had a sex dungeon, or that you were in a stranger’s room, but you felt scared. You felt watched and uncomfortable and like you wanted to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible, put Ambrose in your rear view and never look back. 

You held up the shirt Bo had left you and frowned. It was big, much bigger than he was. This didn’t seem like something he would own, the fitting all wrong, this seemed like something that belonged somewhere else. To someone else. 

You stared at it a moment longer before shaking the thought away and pulling the button up over your arms. As you worked on the last button you realized he hadn’t left you with any pants. Hopefully just a simple oversight on his part. It went down to your thighs, so it’s not like you were completely exposed. You’d just pretend you were wearing a dress. 

Your eyes scanned the room, you would go through his drawers and look for some pants but it didn’t feel right to dig around in his stuff. The room itself was a clusterfuck of boxes of clothes and sprawled sheets. You jumped around a box full of men’s clothing and frowned at the labels on the box. Each box had different sizes and different dates. 

Your heart beat just a little bit faster when you spotted women’s clothes shoved under his bed.

There could be plenty of explanations. 

He swung every which way and this was all clothing from his conquests. 

He liked to dabble in drag. 

He was collecting clothes for the homeless. 

You went with the last one, despite the fact that it didn’t make you feel any better. You walked into his bathroom, smiling when you saw a hair clip on the sink. You picked it up, hoping it wasn’t someone’s favorite and that they wouldn’t mind you borrowing it for a bit. 

Just as you were about to clip up your hair you noticed a smudge of red on the corner. The claw itself was completely white, the red was pretty hard to miss. You frowned, bringing it closer to your face and running your fingers over the color. 

It flaked off under your thumb, the copper falling into the sink. 

There were only so many things you could ignore. 

A blood covered claw was not one of them. 

You rinsed it off in the sink, shoving your hair up and running towards the bedroom door. You didn’t bother collecting your clothes, there was no saving them and you had bigger things to fuss about. Mainly the fact that Allison was right. 

This dude definitely had a fucking sex dungeon. 

You forced yourself to slow down when you reached the top of the stairs. You peered over the railing, listening for any noises or creeping shadows. It was almost worse when you didn’t hear anything. Allison should be at the door, bitching about how long it takes Owen to pee. Bo should be walking around somewhere. 

Instead, the house was still, you barely even heard your own breath over your racing heart. You were careful as you made your way down the stairs, avoiding the boards you know creaked and lightly making your way towards the front door. 

“Allison?” You whispered, looking around the den or kitchen for her. 

Nothing.

You hesitated, wondering if you should look for her or make a run for it. You heard footsteps getting closer to the door and made your choice, grabbing the keys off the tray nearby and racing through the doorway. 

“Y/N?”

You turned around as you reached Bo’s red truck, looking just in time to see a knife split through Allison’s jaw. You couldn’t even scream, the noise locked away in the deepest part of yourself as you struggled to process what was happening. 

The blade stuck out grotesquely between her teeth, her eyes remained blinking, that was the worst part. They blinked, tears pouring down her cheek before the man behind her was shoving her forward and her body was toppling to the ground limply. You jumped at the thud, eyes wide and burning with your own tears as you looked into the dark holes of Vincent’s mask. 

“Vincent?” You whispered, the only thing you could actually manage to get out. His head tilted and he stepped over Allison’s body like she wasn’t even there. Your hands shook, the keys slipping out and landing in the dirt under your shoes. He was about ten feet away before your flight instincts finally kicked in 

“Fuck,” you whispered, abandoning the truck and taking off just as the knife he’d thrown landed in the dirt where you’d been standing only a second earlier. 

You used to run, it had been an easy form of therapy. A way to get out unresolved and pent up emotions that left you feeling stunted. You’d loved it, reveled in the burn in your thighs, the buzz that thrummed through your blood as you pushed yourself to your limits and then further. 

But you’d stopped, got caught up in a group of shitty friends and stopped taking care of yourself. Now, the once thrilling buzz was slowing you down. The muscles in your thighs unprepared and unused as you forced them to go faster. You felt like you were trying to run in a dream, your muscles working as hard as possible but you were stuck in a limbo, never moving fast enough. 

You could hear heavy boots pounding behind you and you tried to push through that limit that you felt locked around your legs. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t move faster and you already felt yourself slowing down. Your lungs heaving as your throat burned, struggling to take in any air. 

“AH!” You let out a strange sounding scream as something heavy and hard rammed into your back. It sent you flying, knees scraping against pavement as you were pancaked to the road. 

“There ya are, darlin’! You don’t know how bad my feelings were hurt when I saw you’d run off.” You whimpered as Bo pinned your arms behind your back, his knees digging into your spine until you both heard it crack and you cried out in pain. 

“Bo, please,” you begged. “Please.”

He chuckled, leaning down until his mouth was next to your ear. “Please, what, darlin?”

”Please fuck off,” you growled throwing your head back and listening to Bo’s nose snap. You used the distraction to wrestle your way out from under him, rolling onto him, legs straddling his waist as you grabbed a nearby rock and brought it down.

His hand shot up and gripped your wrist, squeezing until you couldn’t feel your fingers and were forced to let go of the rock. “Fuckin’ bitch.”

You slapped at him as he tried to sit up and pin you down. You didn’t care how rabid or unorganized you were. You clawed, screamed and kicked until you’d gained the upper hand and were jumping away from him. “Fuck you,” you hissed, glaring at him as you clutched at your hurt wrist. 

His nose was no longer pouring blood, instead it was a slow steady drip as he glared at you with what could only be described as an animalistic snarl. “Bitch,” he spat back. 

“That the best you got?” You taunted, “You’re the backwoods freak who's killing off college kids. Lemme guess, Vincent’s your brother, he wears that mask because mommy and daddy were actually Uncle-Dad and Aunt-mom? Your weird little incest freak didn’t want to let mommy’s dream die? I bet one of you fuckin’ killed her, too.”

”Shut the fuck up!” He shouted, lunging for you. You darted off to the side, leaping over a wooden picket fence and through the yards of the silent neighborhood. The sky was turning pink, your favorite time of day, right before night finally fell. 

But you didn’t have time to enjoy it, crying as you ran away from the feral man behind you. You could hear him breathing, stomping his way behind you, it was like being chased by a wild animal, not a man. Maybe that’s what was terrifying you so bad, humans were predictable. You knew what type of torture to expect from them, the cruelties they were capable of. But a man like this, a beast like this, you had no idea what he would do to you. 

Tear you apart right here in the street?

Take you back to his home and keep you until better prey came along?

You didn’t want to find out. And you didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of your death. 

You had been screaming as he attacked you, shouting as you ran from him. Not once did a light click on or off as you ran through the neighborhood. No curtains drew back or faces pressed against the window pane in curiosity. 

You knew you were alone, the rest of your friends were most likely dead. 

You gasped, losing your breath, as you slammed into something hard. “Y/N? What the fuck?” You whined in pain, looking up to see Owen standing over you. He kneeled down, like he was going to help you up, until you heard the sound of laughter behind you. 

“Got you,” Bo taunted. And you knew he was talking about you, he didn’t give a shit about Owen, he just wanted you. 

“Owen, please,” you whispered, begging him to, just this once, help you. Be a decent guy, make the right choice. You should have known better. Just as you’d gotten to your feet, two strong hands had gripped your shoulders and sent you flying. 

A different set of hands found their way around your waist, coiling around you like a python until their grip was so tight your face was turning purple from loss of air. “Told you, jackasses,” Bo whispered, the last thing you heard before you were blacking out. 

Nine Inch Nails. 

That’s what you could process when you woke up.

The next thing you felt as your eyelids slowly peeled open, a near painful process, was the jostling around your legs. You whined, your throat completely raw and glanced down. Bo was standing at the end of some sort of chair, similar to a gurney, and duct taping your legs down. He glanced up, hair plastered with sweat and grinned at you. He had changed, you hadn’t noticed before but he’d ditched the suit for his coveralls. 

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes and glancing towards the ceiling as you blinked back tears. 

You were going to die and the last thing you were going to hear was the blasting of Closer by Nine Inch Nails. 

Fuck my life

Bo moved up, holding your wrists down on the metal armrests and duct taping those too. You looked to the side, and saw strange circular markings on his wrist. You assumed, whenever they disposed of your body and took the tape off, you would have matching scars. 

You heard footsteps clomping above you and the sound of Damien and Gwen’s voices. “Where did they all go?”

“I don’t know, maybe they’re in the auto shop.”

Gwen sounded unsure, “Maybe, it is the only place that’s open.”

Bo ran behind you, his warm hand clamping over your mouth and keeping it shut as they passed the grate above you. You hadn’t even tried to open your mouth to scream for help, you knew you couldn’t, your throat was destroyed already. 

“I’m gonna take my hand off and you’re gonna be quiet. Yeah?” You nodded your head, feeling the salty warmth of your tears trailing down his hand and building up on your cheeks. “Yeah,” he whispered, the tone too intimate as he slowly released you. 

He remained beside you, poised and ready to strike but you didn’t make a move to call out. “Good girl,” he chuckled and placed a hand over yours. “I’m gonna go up, deal with those assholes, and you’re gonna behave. Right?”

You nodded again and he dug blunt fingernails into tender skin. You whimpered out, “Yes, Bo.”

He laughed again and walked towards the door, keys clinking as he locked it behind himself. “Fucking sicko,” you spat the second the door was closed. You moved your legs, wincing as the tape picked at your bare skin. 

“Oh, fuck it,” you were sweaty enough, the moisture on your skin providing enough glide for you to wiggle one leg out of the tape. Arrogant bastard had given you too much freedom, he probably didn’t even think you were going to run. 

Now, your wrists. 

Your arms were sweaty, sure, but these were tight. You tried to use a jerking motion you’d once seen in a stupid action movie, bringing your wrists to your chest. But your muscles were fatigued and you didn’t have enough strength to rip the tape off. 

You flopped against the flattened cushion of the chair, trying not to sob incoherently as Bo’s rock music blared in the garage above. You could hear voices speaking. You didn't know how much time you had left until Bo just got rid of them and came back down for you. 

You’d been pointedly ignoring the wall of Polaroids since you’d woken up, not wanting to see what they were. Afraid you already knew. 

You ignored the unnatural bend of your shoulder, how much it screamed out in pain as you contorted your body over your right wrist, teeth picking at the duct tape until you felt like they were coming loose. But you didn’t stop, you kept going until you felt the slightest tear under your lips. 

You had to stop yourself from crying out in victory as you used whatever remained of your strength to jerk at the tape again and again, your muscles crying as you finally ripped yourself free. You stuffed down your cries, using your free hand to unwrap the other. 

You allowed yourself a moment to roll out your wrists and shake off your legs before you were shooting off the gurney and stumbling towards a corner of the room. Your legs felt like jelly, and you knew that wasn’t good, but you pushed past the fear as footsteps stomped down the stairs. 

Your heart rate picked up and your throat clenched as you pushed sweat-matted hair out of your face. You took in a deep breath and then held it as the door slammed open. You winced, grateful you hadn’t chosen to hide behind that. Bo stepped into the room, there was a blind spot of about five seconds before he would see you were out of your chair. 

You needed to use that to slip behind him and out the door. 

You heard one boot enter. Then the next. 

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears, adrenaline making your muscles tingle back to life. 

Another step, you inched forward, another, you slid against the wall. Bo finally made it all the way in. “What the fuck!”

You shot behind him, racing up the steps and bursting through the door of the garage. You didn’t give yourself time to celebrate or look to see if he was following you. You darted down the street, suddenly grateful Bo had only given you a shirt to wear. 

You were sure it was for his own pleasure, but right now all it meant was that your legs weren’t constricted by tight denim and you could run as fast as your body would allow. You turned to the right, bursting through the doors of the chapel. 

You froze at the entrance, taking in a deep heaving breath as you tried to find a hiding spot. The pews were too noticeable, the casket probably wouldn’t fit you. You nearly cried as you tried to figure it out. 

Outside you heard Bo stomping, his voice calling out your name. Fuck it, you dove for the priest, using his large robes and throwing yourself under them. You had just managed to clamp a sweaty palm over your mouth as the doors of the church opened, deceptively quiet. 

Bo’s footsteps were soft as he walked through. You feel dizzy sitting under this preserved priest, the air stifling and you felt like you were running out of oxygen. Sweat beaded at your hairline, dripping down into your eyes as you tried to blink it away. 

You jumped, nails digging into your palm, at the sound of wood crashing against the wall. “Get out here!” He roared, and you knew he was slowly making his way through the pews. He tossed each of them around, checking under and around them for you. 

You ducked down, lifting the robe a centimeter off the floor. If you closed your eyes, put your hand over your ears, you were a little girl again, hiding under the table as your mother counted down. She’d find you soon, you’d giggle and she’d pretend she didn’t hear it before popping under the table cloth and catching you. 

Her fingers digging into your sides, searching for that ticklish spot. No, she’s poking too hard, that hurts. 

Shit, that hurts. 

You kick out, your shoe catching Bo’s jaw as you make a run for it, darting out from the priest and back through the chapel doors. The only thing you can focus on are the bright lights, blinding against the night sky- when did it get dark?

You stumbled over your feet, legs not moving the way you wanted them to. Shit, you don’t feel good. Did he drug you? Is it the heat? You haven’t eaten all day, or drank anything. Maybe it was finally catching up to you. 

Through blurry eyes you ran towards the movie theater, the brightest beacon you can actually make out. You trip through the doors, slamming them closed behind you. You spot one of those metal poles, the old one with red cloth they used to keep people in line. With limp arms and struggling steps you lift it up and slam it through the handles, just as Bo starts to shake them on the other side. 

You back away from them slowly, eyes scanning the lobby for anything you could use. Behind the concession desk you manage to spot something. 

BREAK IN CASE OF EMERGENCY

You’d say this constituted an emergency. You kicked through the glass, ignoring how it dragged along your legs, and pulled the ax out of its case. There had to be a back door out of here. 

Your eyes widened and you cursed, there had to be a back way out of here, and Bo would know it. You threw the ax on the ground, ripping the pole out of the handles before scooping the ax back up and running back into the dark.

Apparently you’d made the right choice because Bo was no longer where you left him. He was probably sneaking through some secret exit waiting to grab you. You looked towards the end of the street, up the hill, and back at Bo’s front door.

There was still light shining through, but you were sure Allison’s body was long gone. You glanced behind you before taking in a deep centering breath and shooting off again. 

You held your breath, hiding underneath the table as Bo came stumbling into his home. You could see him clutching a wound on his arm and Vincent materialized behind him. He reached for his brother but Bo jerked back, “Get, get, back!” He spoke like he was talking to some dog, “Fuckin’ freak.”

You winced as you watched them interact, Bo tossing shit at his brother and his brother ducking like he was used to it. Vincent walked over to a candle, heating a spoon over the flame and picking up a toaster. He used the metallic reflection to smooth over a dent in his mask and Bo came up, appearing on his shoulder like the worst kind of devil. 

“Momma would be proud of you.” Vincent’s movements paused at his suddenly tender brother’s voice. “I told you this would look better. The last two are gonna look great,” he assured, kindly, and you grimace in disgust. Should’ve known this was his idea. Your knuckles creaked around the handle of the ax and you debated just ending this now. 

Vincent turns towards his brother, spoon discarded, and signs something. You know enough about the language to recognize the hand movements when you see it, but you can’t understand it from your angle. 

“What girl?” Bo snarled, Vincent winced and signed something else. Bo snorted, “Her? What you gotta crush or somethin’?” Vincent shook his head quickly and Bo rolled his eyes, voice cruel. “What, one girl’s nice to you and you wanna break our rules? She’s dead when I’m done with her. That’s it.” Bo buried his finger in Vincent’s shoulder, shoving harshly. “Understood?” Vincent didn’t respond immediately and Bo shoved again. “Understood!” He shouted and Vincent finally nodded. 

You watched them move out of sight, followed their shoes out of the house and finally slinked out of your hiding spot. You’d seen where Vincent had emerged from earlier and retraced the steps, finding a hidden basement in their father’s office. You glanced behind you once before jumping down into the hole.

“Damien? Gwen? Fucking anybody?” You kept glancing behind you, ax ready as you creeped your way through Vincent’s tunnels. Finally, you started to see the warm glow of candles at the very end of the section you were in. 

Caution thrown to the wind, you made a run for it and burst into what looked like Vincent’s workshop. You looked around, not seeing anything of interest besides one torture chair. You’d slit your throat before they got you in that. 

You found his desk, sketches scattered around the edges. You took a peek and were surprised to find a partially done profile of your face. You glanced around, making sure you were safe, before picking the sketch up. 

You looked pretty, even half done, he might have been a little to generous with you. Made you too elegant, noble, untouchable. Flattering if he wasn’t going to try and kill you. You saw something scrawled at the very bottom and your heart clenched, She was nice.

Perhaps you were too tender-hearted, to feel any pity for these monsters. But you’d seen the news articles in their father’s office, what had happened to their family, the chair Bo was once strapped in. What they were was their mother’s final project, the legacy she left behind, one of pain and hatred. Each of them hating themselves for different reasons because of her. 

But you weren’t an idiot, you saw the was in the title of your drawing. You might have been kind, but he wasn’t planning on letting you live. Something rattled in the room to your right and you threw the drawing down, turning towards the door and carefully opening it. 

“Y/N!” Owen cried out, relief making itself clear on his face as he saw you. “Get me out of here.” You rushed forward, kneeling down and trying to undo the straps around his ankles. But your fingers weren’t working properly, they felt like they were swelling and burning and useless. You whined in frustration as you tried to get the metal through the hole. 

“Fuck!” Owen kicked out as much as he could and you jumped back. “Can you do anything right? Just get me out of here!” He screeched. 

You went momentarily blind with rage, anger boiling in your gut so quickly you nearly keeled over. “I’m trying to help you, you fucking dick! You left me behind to that psycho earlier and I’m still trying to help you!” You screamed at him, not paying attention to the raw feeling of your throat or the footsteps behind you. “Why don’t you ever just shut up!”

You weren’t aware the ax was still in your hands, or maybe you were, as you brought your arms down in frustration. It landed in his thigh, barely missing the femoral artery, and he screamed. That type of scream you only hear from squealing pigs right before their butchered. 

You didn’t think you enjoyed it.

Didn't want to enjoy it. 

But you dug the blade in. 

He’d made your life a living hell, he’d tried to get you killed earlier, and even when you’d ignored it and tried to save him he still yelled at you. Granted, it wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever said to you, but it was the worst thing he could say at that moment. You pressed on the handle, not realizing you were smiling as he squealed some more. 

You got a headache after a second, struggling to rip the blade back out before you were lifting it once more and bringing it down over his neck, the blood splattering your face, bleeding into your open eyes as you watch his head topple to the ground. 

“Holy shit,” you turned around and looked at Bo, the fight draining from your body. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” He glanced at the ax in your hands and smiled, this one looked real, the realest he could manage. “Gonna kill me too?”

You shrugged, tossing the ax at his feet. “You gonna kill me?”

He looked at you, really looked at you, standing there covered in your ‘friend’s’ blood and unknowingly smiling at the carnage. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered. 

Part two

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie House of Wax (2005), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Bad Day

pt. two

part one

Bo Sinclair x fem!reader, Vincent Sinclair x fem!reader (not together, I don’t do that twincest shite) warnings: reader embracing the dark side, graphic descriptions of violence Summary: Another set of tourists, but this one’s different. You actually have to meet this group. They’re particularly difficult, too, causing more damage than any of you expected. Can you survive the night, again?

You focused on the way the knife glinted as it spread mayonnaise over the bread. You watched it glide through the thick substance and brought it back down, flipping the blade and smoothing and spreading it-

Your fingers tightened around the handle and you winced as you slammed your eyes shut. You couldn’t be around blades, even ones as dull as this, without thinking of that night. 

You’d fought, more than anyone else ever had, Bo told you. You’d also killed one of your friends in cold blood, no one had ever done that either. 

He had been tied up and vulnerable and you hadn’t even given him a fair shot at surviving you. 

You didn’t feel guilty about it, and that’s the part that haunts you. You didn’t try to justify your actions and cry yourself to sleep over the guilt you felt for being alive while your friends lay scattered throughout town. You slept deeply, peacefully, in the arms of the men who murdered them. 

You’d wake up after having a dream about that night and you would feel exhilarated because it had been the first time you’d ever truly stood up for yourself. You reveled in the power you’d felt when you’d swung that ax into his neck. 

You didn’t even remember their names. 

How fucked up was that?

You basked in the memories of their demise but their faces were lost to you. One blur that bled together the more you tried to picture them. 

You didn’t mourn them or feel pity, you felt no guilt, and that’s what fucked with you. Were you a bad person?

You had to be. 

But you’d never been one before Ambrose. 

You distracted yourself from the thoughts. You’d spiral and never get back up if you let yourself go down the rabbit hole. You tore off a piece of turkey and threw it at Jonesy, she pounced on it the second it hit the floor. 

You finished the sandwiches, one going into a brown paper bag the other a plate that you wrapped with plastic. You left the kitchen, winding around boxes and junk that they called sentimental. You’d gotten into a nasty fight with Bo a few months ago about cleaning the house up a little, but he had refused. 

You hadn’t realized how many beers he’d had that night and chosen the wrong moment to suggest change. Something he was staunchly against. He hadn’t hit you, never had, but he’d thrown a bottle near your head, the glass shattering and bouncing off the wall. Some of it had hit you, scraping up the back of your arms and legs. It wasn’t too bad, but you hadn’t felt that terrified of him since the night you came here. 

You’d been petty, stolen his keys and camped out in one of the houses in town. You hadn’t been able to get any sleep, not with the wax family watching you, but it had gotten the message across. Lester had told you Bo thought you’d left and lost his fucking shit. Vincent, apparently, had been even worse. 

By the time you got back the house was in worse shape then when you’d left. 

Bo had told you he’d think about cleaning some of the stuff out. That had been three months ago.

You grabbed the flashlight off their father’s desk and used the hatch in the office, dropping down into Vincent’s lair. Vincent, when he’d discovered just how much you hated the darkness that led into his workspace, had started leaving a flashlight out for you. 

When Bo got pissed at you he’d hide it. You’d have to crawl to him and beg for it back. 

You’re pretty sure he didn’t care what it was that he stole, he just wanted to exercise some control over you. Remind you of your place in this town, under him.

The flashlight was a nice thought from Vincent, but it didn’t really help you much. You used it anyway, wanting him to know you appreciated how much he cared. Because you’re pretty sure he’s the only real reason you’re alive. 

When Bo had caught you down here, standing over Owen’s dead body, he told you he didn’t know if he was going to keep you alive or not. You knew he meant it, he wasn’t teasing you or playing around, he genuinely did not know what to do with you. You were an outlier in a long list of repetitive victims. 

Vincent swept in behind him, glanced down at the ax, the injuries all over your body, and hesitantly stepped towards you. They looked at each other, a silent conversation laying in their gazes.  

Vincent took a slow step towards you and you recognized his actions for what they were. A test. 

Earlier, you’d seen Vincent try to help his brother, ease his pain and wrap up his wounds. Bo had reacted cruelly, the only thing he seemed to be capable of. 

You watched with a blank stare as Vincent kneeled down in front of you, brushing his fingers over the scraped skin of your knee. 

You jumped slightly at the burn of flesh against your wound, but otherwise didn’t react. Slowly, he stood back up, grabbing your arm with a gentleness that wasn’t present in your first meeting. He led you back to his desk, flipping over the drawing of your face and pulling out bandages. 

Some of them he had to toss to the side because they were covered in wax, others he used on you. 

Bo watched it all with a frown on his face and crossed arms. “What the hell are you doin’?”

Vincent’s head shot up and his arms tightened around you. Again, you forced yourself not to react, not to flinch away from his hold and grimace as you heard his muffled breath next to your ear. Vincent didn’t say anything, didn’t move his hands to communicate, he blocked you in like a guard dog and after a moment you heard Bo cussing and storming out. 

He mentioned something about getting the restg of your group, but nothing after that. You could only relax once you heard the basement hatch slam shut. “Thank you,” you whispered to Vincent. He grunted, but offered nothing else. 

His fingers were quick, precise in the way they cleaned and wrapped your wounds. They were also surprisingly gentle for someone who had just slammed a blade through your friend's skull. 

Vincent kept you squirreled away down there, sleeping on a cot in the corner of his large and stuffy studio. You weren’t sure how many days or weeks had passed with him idly sketching you and sculpting different wax animals for you, the lack of windows made it hard to tell, but you do know you were much better off here than in Bo’s dungeon. 

You’d learned bits of sign language from him, you were bored and he seemed eager to teach you. To finally have someone who would speak his language too. 

He was kind in his own way, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t eager to get the fuck out of there. 

Bo had stormed down one day, saw you, and lost his goddamn shit. Apparently, he’d thought Vincent was only keeping you around for a bit of fun and then killing you. The fact that you were still alive, and being taken care of, nearly gave him an aneurysm. 

Again, Vincent hadn’t let Bo hurt you. He’d protected you from his brother’s wrath and forced Bo to accept that you were staying. 

Sometimes you wished you weren’t kind to him. That you had yelled, kicked, and clawed at him. Called him a freak and told him to go to hell and find his precious momma. You would be dead, sure, but you wouldn’t be here. 

Thoughts like that had disappeared a long time ago, left with the summer heat. You knew it wasn’t Stockholm syndrome, you’d been a psych student before your world was flipped on its axis. You knew what the signs were, but this wasn’t loving them to save yourself. 

This was accepting that there was no place for you in society anymore, not after what you’d done. Not after you’d actually helped Vincent sculpt his wax around Allison’s pretty face. 

You’d enjoyed it, a sick satisfaction from seeing the bitch dead, your survival a victory over her. 

When she’d been alive she had a top. This really cute white, lacy number and no matter how many times you asked, she would never let you borrow it. She had no qualms stealing your clothes and never giving them back, but god forbid you ever even looked at that top.

It hung in your closet now, yours to do with whatever you pleased. You smiled every time you thought about it. 

“Vince?” You knocked on the doorway and clicked the flashlight off as the door creaked open. The warm glow of candlelight leaked out into the dark abyss. You slipped inside, shuddering at the rush of heat that hit you. It wasn’t always hot in here, only when he was preparing a new batch of wax. 

You frowned, he only did that when there were visitors coming. Lester must’ve called ahead, told them he spotted someone on the road. You closed the door behind you walking towards his desk and dropping the plate on top. Your fingers skimmed over the sketches, catching on another one of you. 

You picked it up and smiled, it was a sketch of you curled up on the couch with Jonesy, your face pressed into her fur as you slept. You remember waking up from that nap, frowning when you heard wood creaking behind you but not seeing anything. 

What a weird little stalker. He knew he could ask to sketch you and you didn’t mind, but he always ran away like you were gonna be mad at him. You shook your head, placing it back down, and walked further into his studio. 

You found him sitting at his table, curled over something you couldn’t make out. You could see his wrist flicking, the carving tool in his hand, and figured he was making another animal for you. You already had a whole shelf full of different animals, practically your own wax zoo. 

“Hey,” you whispered, hands creeping slowly along his shoulders. He tensed slightly before he leaned into you. “Brought you lunch.” His movements paused to sign, Thank you.

You glanced down at his hair, curling around him like a dark curtain and frowned. “Vince, you got wax in your hair again.” He shrugged and continued working. You sighed, walking back towards his desk and rustling through drawers until you found the brush you’d left down here for him.

Sometimes you think he does this on purpose because he likes how you take care of him. You ran the brush through his hair a few times trying to make sure you’d gotten all the wax out. He let out a low groan, his head tilting back and thudding against your chest as you stood behind him. 

You chuckled, scratching your fingers along his scalp and he let out a long sigh, melting into you. You’d have to force him into the shower later, to wash everything out of his hair. It was astounding how stubborn both brothers were about just showering. 

You weren’t sure why they resisted so much, maybe it was something that happened between them and their parents. Either way, it was a fight to get them near the water and even then you had to bribe them with your body, luring them in like a siren just so you could wash the grime off. 

You braided Vincent’s hair away from his face and he stilled, temporarily becoming your doll while you did what you wanted to him. He was always a bit easier than his brother. He was eager to please, even more eager for your praise. For you to tell him you were proud of him. 

You leaned down, pressing a kiss against the waxed cheek of his mask. “Eat your lunch, please.” He nodded but the second you backed off he was back to carving into the block of wax before him. You sighed and glanced around his space, collecting the dishes of other half-eaten meals you’ve brought down. 

The bell rang above you and you let out a sigh or relief as you stepped into Bo’s shop. A cool breeze rustled the fabric of your top. Seems like he got the air conditioning up and running again, even in winter you could still wear a tank top and shorts and be sweating. “Bo?”

“Back here!”

You walked towards the garage, brown bag clutched tightly in your hands and poked your head in. He was bent over, head under the hood of a car and oil smeared all over his coveralls. Your eyes traveled over the car he was working on, wincing when you realized it was yours. 

You hadn’t used it since you’d gotten here. You’d seen Bo towing it in, along with Owen’s but you’d always avoided paying too much attention to it. You weren’t sure why he bothered working on it, maybe it was a taunt towards you or he was just bored. You never really knew with him. 

“Brought lunch,” you offered, walking towards his work table and jumping on top, the bag going next to your thighs. He lifted himself up, looking towards you and smiling. 

“Thanks, hun,” you hummed in response, sticking your neck out as he approached. He chuckled, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

He reached for the bag, pulling out his lunch and taking too big of a bite. “‘M gonna have to go up to the house,” he mumbled through a mouth full of sandwich. “Need to change before our visitors get here.”

You nodded, staying quiet as he stared at you. You’d gotten used to this look and even more used to what was about to happen after. He’d tell you to follow him and would help you off the desk, deceptively sweet as he tugged you down to the room below the garage. 

Then he would tape you up, muttering to himself about not letting you leave. You’d submit easily, letting him do what he wanted. It was easier than trying to tell him you were staying. 

But his gaze shifted back to the car and you frowned at the side of his face. He should’ve told you to move by now. Instead he leaned back against the desk, his hand skimming your own. He didn’t look at you while he spoke. 

“Want you to work on your car.”

You blanched, eyes going wide as you stared at him. That wasn’t even close to what you were expecting. You had gotten so used to sitting under that grate, listening to the screams of his victims as he hunted them down. Now, he wanted you up here, wanted you to see it. 

What was he doing?

“What?”

“Yeah,” he grinned, “fucked somethin’ up, want you to fix it.” He crumpled the bag into a ball, tossing it into the trash can and turned back towards you. You didn’t see anything on his face that would give away why he was keeping you up here on the surface and it set you on edge. 

This had to be some sort of test. Maybe he was seeing if you would try and use the new victims to escape or warn them off. Or he wanted to see if you could pretend like you belonged, go along with his act and keep the victims feeling safe and compliant while he killed them off. 

What the fuck?

You were used to how things worked in Ambrose. There was a system set in place, one you had learned to follow. This went against what you’d come to know and it was setting you on edge as you watched him walk off, heading up the hill and towards his house. 

You stayed glued to the desk for a while, you weren’t sure how long, but it was enough time for Bo to have cleaned up. He popped his head inside the garage, suit on, and frowned. “What’re you doing? Move your ass.”

You jumped, leaping off the work table and rushing towards the car. He laughed at your panicked movements, staying a moment to admire your ass as you bent over the hood before you heard his boots on the gravel, heading towards the church. 

You didn’t appreciate this switch up with him, how erratic his moods and behaviors were. He made it impossible to track and read him, to fully understand why he worked the way he did. 

You were grateful that, at the very least, he had given you a distraction from trying to figure out what this test was and if you were in trouble or not. 

You inspected the car, forcing yourself to remember everything he’s taught you while you’ve lingered in his shop. 

“Oh, they're right here.”

You jumped, rolling out from underneath the car and glancing towards the doorway that connected the garage to the auto shop. Two unfamiliar voices echoed within Bo’s shop. 

“Fan belts?”

“Yeah,” a guy and a girl. You poked your head over the top of the car and saw the guy was a lot taller than you and broader. Shit, you really hoped you didn’t run into him once they figured out what was going on up here. “But he doesn’t have the right size.”

“Just pick one, Wade, I don’t want to be in here much longer.”

“Alright, just hold on Carly.” You grabbed a rag, wiping your hands off and stepping towards them. 

“You plannin’ on stealin’ that?”

They both jumped, whipping around towards where you leaned in the doorway arms crossed over your chest. “No,” the guy rushed to defend himself, his girlfriend shaking her head frantically. “We left some money on the counter, we just needed to get out of here, that’s all.”

“There you are,” you all turned towards Bo. His posture matched your own, leaned against the entrance to the shop, hands tucked in his pockets. God, he looked good. Now that you weren’t fighting for your life you could fully appreciate how handsome he looked all cleaned up. Bo glanced at you then back to the other two, “She botherin’ you?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, glaring at him over their shoulders. He winked when they faced you and you figured he was putting on another show. Huffing out an irritated breath you rolled your eyes and turned back towards your car. You frowned at the oil streaked along your skin and clothes, you’d never be able to get the stains out. 

“Oh,” Carly started, shaking her head and glancing back at you again. “No, of course not, we just didn’t know that there was anyone in the shop.”

“She’s new, don’t like lettin’ her around customers, too much attitude.” You could practically see his smirk from under the car. He was probably so proud of himself, being able to tease you without you snapping back for once. 

“She’s fine, um, I left some money on the counter, but you don’t have any fifteens.” You watched as Bo’s feet moved towards the register, most likely pocketing the money. “Is that enough?”

Bo’s tone was easy going, the perfect southern gentleman as he helped a poor lost couple. “Close enough. You know, I’ve got the right size up at the house. Only a couple blocks from here…”

You forced yourself deaf, trying to block out the rest of their conversation. These people weren’t exactly assholes and they didn’t seem particularly deserving of what was about to happen. Your friends were bad people, you didn’t feel guilty about them, but there was something about this couple that had your stomach burning in anxiety. 

Maybe this was why Bo had you outside, playing mechanic with him. He wanted you to see the harsh reality of what it was they did here. you couldn’t always cover your ears and pretend it wasn’t happening. Was this what the test was? See how committed you were to him and Vincent, to Ambrose. 

You used the car as a cover, dropping the wrench beside you and covering your face as you tried to decide whether you were going to cry or throw up. It was fine, the idea of all this, when you were hidden under the grate. The straps were a reminder that it could be you up there being hunted again. 

Being face to face with the victims was entirely different. 

A hand slammed down on the roof of the car, the metal reverberating around you, “Hey!”

You screamed, jumping up and nearly hitting your head on the underbelly of the car. You rolled out, glaring at Bo while he stood smiling down at you. He kneeled down, laying a hand around your thigh and squeezing. 

“You’re gonna stay here, keep an eye out for any more of their friends, and behave. Okay?”

You nodded and he dug his nails in, “Yes, Bo.” 

“Good girl,” he stood up and walked towards the garage door. You watched him, afraid to take your eyes off his back. He turned back around, one last lingering look that had you feeling cold, “Don’t fuck up.” You flinched as the garage door slammed down behind him. 

“Help! Help me, please!” You jumped up and ran to the front of the auto shop. Carly ran face first into you, her fingernails digging painfully into your skin as she looked behind her. 

“Shit,” you grabbed her biceps and pulled her away. “What’s going on?”

She backed up, wiping her eyes and gulping as she tried to catch her breath. “That- that guy, Bo, I think he did something to my boyfriend.”

“Alright, calm down, it’s okay.” God, you were just as freaked out as her. What the fuck were you supposed to do? “Let me get the phone, we’ll call someone.”

She nodded, running to the door and locking it. She pressed her face against the glass and peered outside, keeping an eye out for him. You knew you didn’t have long before she started to get suspicious. The station had a working phone, but there was no way in hell you were actually about to call the cops on Bo. 

You paced back and forth, running your hands through your hair as you looked around, trying to find a solution. Your eyes snagged on the wrench by the car. You whipped your head over your shoulder, Carly was still stuck to the window. You ran for it, grabbing it and turning back towards her. 

You raised your hand up, wincing as she caught your eye in the reflection of the glass. “What’re-”

She crumpled to the ground with a thud, crimson pooling around her arms. 

You saw in the reflection Bo approaching you from behind, back in his coveralls. “Atta girl!” You didn’t react when he slung his arms over your shoulders, squeezing you and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “Did good, baby.” He released you, huffing out a big sigh and walking over to the girl, “Alright, grab her ankles.” His tone was no longer adoring going right back to business. 

You looked at him like he was crazy, ”Bo, what?”

You dropped the wrench to the ground and he frowned from where he was picking up her wrists. “You got a problem?”

”Yeah! What the fuck are you doing? Why am I doing this?” He dropped her arms unceremoniously and you winced at the crack they made against the cement. He stepped over her, stalking towards you and you stumbled back, heart beating faster in fear. 

His hand snapped out, grabbing you before you could make it far. You whined as he dug his nails into your cheeks, puckering your lips and gripping your jaw hard enough for it to creak. “You’re doing this ‘cause I said to. Do we have a problem?”

He was so good at making you feel small. You wonder how Vincent’s put up with it all these years. “No, Bo,” your words were muffled by his grip, but he got the message. He released you, but you didn’t go far, his arm wrapping around waist and pulling you into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, his hand coming up to push some of your hair back. “It’s alright, darlin.’ We all make mistakes, right?” His tone was condescending, his smirk even more so, but you played along like he wanted you to. Nodding and accepting when he pressed a violent kiss to your mouth, your teeth clashing together and lip splitting from the force of it. 

He backed away from you, chuckling loudly and going back to the unconscious girl on the floor. You grabbed her by the ankles like he’d told you to and helped him drag her down to the basement. He propped her head on your shoulder while he unlocked the door and you struggled under her dead weight. 

“Why is she going down here, Bo?”

Your mind went to the Polaroids covering the walls, the things he’s had you do in that chair and you felt anger burning in your gut. Not worry or fear for her like you should feel, but white hot burning rage at him for trying to pull something like this.

He looked over his shoulder at your expression and grinned, “Nothin’ like that, baby. Little bitch put up a fight and wrecked my truck, I ain’t done with her yet.” 

A good person would wince and whisper and apology to the unconscious girl, say they were sorry for the pain she was about to experience. Instead you felt sated, relieved, and completely fine with hauling her body up into the chair and taping her down. 

You held her legs down as he taped them and she started to move around. Bo tossed you some superglue and you gripped her by the jaw, clamping her lips shut and pouring glue over the seam of her mouth. She whimpered and you ignored her, moving mechanically, distancing yourself from the fact that she was a real moving person. In her place was a wax statue, full of imperfections that you needed the glue to fix. 

All three of you looked up through the grate at the sound of the boots stomping in the garage above you. Bo shared a look with you and nodded towards the door. You let the girl go, slipping out of the basement and closing the door behind you. You came up through the entrance behind the register, glancing outside to see a man in front of the garage. 

You let out a breath of relief, closing the door to the shop as you stepped into the garage, he hadn’t got a chance to see the pool of blood. “Can I help you?”

He turned around, a particularly bitchy look on his face. “Looking for my sister, Carly, seen her?”

There was a loud yelp and you frowned. You walked towards the work table, reaching for the stereo and turning the volume to Bo’s music on. You covered the grate from his view as Deftones blasted through the small garage. 

“Sorry, it’s my dog, she hates new people.”

He gave you an awkward smile and nodded. “Yeah, might’ve seen her. Pretty girl, blonde hair?”

He nodded his head, giving you an appraising look. You weren’t sure if he didn’t believe you or was checking you out. You really preferred that he didn’t believe you, you weren’t prepared to deal with Bo if he thought someone was moving in on you. ”My boss, Bo, took her and her boyfriend up to his house a few minutes ago. They were lookin’ for a fan belt.”

“His house?”

You shrugged, “He keeps extra shipments there. Wasn’t too long ago, you want me to take you?” 

He sucked on his teeth, shaking his head and backing away. “No, I’m good, thanks though.”

You panicked, fists clenching as you watched him retreat. “It's really no problem.”

“I said I’m good,” he snapped. 

You could see Bo creeping up behind him, the same wrench you used on the guy’s sister in his hand. If he turned around he would see Bo. Carly was easy to take out, she was small, trusting. This guy looked built and like he’d been in a few too many fights. “Wait!” You shouted, too scared to come up with a good distraction. 

He glared at you and opened his mouth to say something just as Bo struck. The wrench came down on the guys head with a disturbing crack, but he didn’t fall like he should have. He stumbled forward and whirled around on Bo, his fist catching him in the jaw and tackling him to the ground. 

You could clearly see blood pouring down the back of his head, but he remained unphased as he  pounded into Bo. “Shit,” you cursed, darting to the side to pick up another weapon but you failed to notice how the man had stopped beating Bo. He must’ve seen you moving somehow because in a split second something was slamming into your side and the air was leaving you as you were slammed into the cement. 

You groaned, feeling like your lungs had collapsed and curled up in an attempt to protect yourself as he directed his attacks towards you. “Nick!” A shrill voice screamed from the grate. “Nick!” He leapt off of you, heading back towards Bo and ripping the keys off his belt as he made a run for it. 

Your vision was red, blood pouring down from a cut on your forehead. You took in a painful breath, your lungs wheezing, your ribs had apparently taken the majority of his punches. With your brain pounding against your eyes you rolled onto your knees and crawled towards Bo. 

He wasn’t as badly injured as you had thought he would be, must’ve gotten in a few hits of his own. “Bo,” you grabbed his shoulders, gently shaking him. “Bo!” You tried again, shouting this time and slamming his head down on the cement. 

He groaned and you let yourself fall back, head lolling on your shoulders as you tried to get your vision to stop swimming. “Shit, he got me.” Bo sat up, wiping the blood from under his nose, “Get home.” He ordered, tone not leaving any room for an argument. You nodded as he stormed off, but instead of going home like he told you to, you laid down on the cold cement and groaned. 

Should lungs hurt?

You eventually managed your way to the house, once you’d got breath back, your injuries weren’t as bad as you’d thought they’d been. You stumbled into the doorway, glancing at a trail of blood leading into the office and trudging your way to the fridge. You grabbed a beer and threw yourself down on the couch. 

It didn’t take long to hear footsteps creeping towards you. Your heart clenched when you saw how hesitant Vincent was to get near you. You loved Bo, but he could be a real fucking dick to his brother. You leaned your head against the cushion, rolling it to the right and smiling at Vincent. 

It seemed to be enough for him to feel comfortable approaching you. He kneeled on the floor beside you and fussed over your scrapes. “I’m fine, really,” you reached up, taking his hand in yours and trying to give him a reassuring smile. “I think they got Bo pretty bad, though.”

He tugged his hands from yours, taking off his gloves and signing. How bad

”One of the guys, he’s pretty strong, busted his sister out from the basement after attacking me and Bo. Actually managed to knock Bo out for a minute.”

Stay here

“Wait-” you reached out, trying to grab the back of his sweater but he was already making a run for the front door. It slammed closed behind him, his truck starting up a minute later. You sighed and fell back against the couch, letting your eyes shut as you tried to relax. 

You hadn’t realized just how relaxed you’d gotten until you heard the door slam. You jumped up, glancing out the living room window and realizing how dark it’d gotten. You moved off the couch, placing your beer on the coffee table and heading into the kitchen. 

Bo was leaning on the counter, already a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He was completely soaked in blood, his nose leaking and a bandage wrapped around his arm. “Holy shit, Bo, what happened?” 

You ran forward, hands instinctively going to the arrow buried in his arm. “Back off!” He snapped. You frowned and stepped back from him, trying not to upset him any further. You heard the rumble of a truck on the driveway and you glanced through the window. 

Two bodies lay in the bed of Vincent’s yellow truck, a blonde girl and some guy you hadn’t seen before. Vincent jumped out, Jonesy following behind him, and made his way towards the door. You opened it before he could, grabbing him by the cardigan and making sure he wasn’t hurt like Bo. 

He took your hands in his and shook his head, gently moving you back. “What have I told you about leaving without me?” Bo shouted. “You wait for me!”

Vincent nodded, not bothering to respond to Bo. There was a moment of tense silence before Bo offered a half-hearted smile to Vincent, “We’re almost done, Vinnie, momma would be proud of ya.”

It was the closest to an apology Vincent would ever get, you all knew it. Bo can’t apologize, his parents had permantly fucked with his psyche, and it started with his dad doing a risky surgery to seperate his boys. Vincent’s face would permanently be ruined but you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Bo had gotten the fucked mental end of the separation. 

“How many are left?” You asked, reluctantly releasing Vincent’s hands. 

“The girl and her brother,” Bo paced, taking a swig of his whiskey. He hissed and clutched his hurt arm. “Alright, help me out with this.”

You had to hold yourself back from snapping at him. Oh, can I help now? Dick. You grabbed hold of what was left of the arrow and yanked as hard as you could, Bo clenched his teeth and let out a loud pained groan. You winced at the amount of blood that started coming out, Vincent moved you to the side, already having a bandage ready and tying it tight around Bo’s arm. 

“Where do you think they headed?”

Bo grunted, speaking through clenched teeth, “House of Wax.”

You nodded and stepped back from him once it seemed like Vincent wouldn’t need your help. “I’ll go with you both.”

”No,” Bo shouted and Vincent shook his head wildly. 

“Don’t be a dumbass, you need my help. They’ve already kicked your ass, I’ll stay out of sight, promise. I just want to be there in case they get the upper hand.” Bo looked unsure and Vincent was still shaking his head. You placed a comforting hand on both of their arms and begged, “Please. Let me help.”

Bo shook his head and your stomach dropped, worried he would say no. Finally he let out a long sigh, “Stick with Vincent.”

You nodded, feeling Vincent’s hand grab onto yours as he led you outside. Bo grunted and slowly followed after you both, his left arm stiff beside him. 

You followed Vincent into the bowels of the House of Wax, he moved slowly, keeping one hand behind him to make sure you didn’t bolt. You weren’t planning on it, but they didn’t seem to completely trust you for some reason. 

You heard footsteps ahead, quck and frantic, rushing through his workshop. Vincent pulled out his bone handle daggers and ran down the rest of the steps. You stayed on the stairwell, keeping your head peaked around the corner. 

The brother was in there, rushing through the workshop and knocking shit over without a care in the world. He hadn’t noticed Vincent yet, too busy looking for something. You weren’t sure what he wanted, or what the plan was until you saw him grab a pile of sheets, getting ready to throw them in the fire that kept the wax warm. 

Shit, he was going to set the whole damn place on fire. 

Even if you did manage to kill these two, it wouldn’t matter, the police would come, they’d see the bodies. Bo and Vincent would be locked up and you…

Well, you didn’t really know what would happen to you. 

You could always plead insanity, show the jury the scars from your bonds and they’d think you were just a victim forced to do the unimaginable. 

You considered it for a moment, letting him get away with this, thought about the freedom that might await you. There was an empty feeling associated with that image, you’d miss Bo and Vince, miss the fucked up life you were living here. 

There weren’t any worries here, just make sure the victims didn’t make it past the woods and you were fine. No taxes, or wondering how you’d afford to keep living in your overpriced apartment, no fucked politics. You were free to be whoever you wanted, do whatever you wanted. 

You grabbed a lead pipe off the stairs and threw it at the wall. It provided enough of a distraction for him to drop the sheets, not yet making it to the fire, and for Vince to grab him. You watched long enough to see the knife go through his throat and then ran back up the stairs towards Bo. 

You heard screaming before you made it through the door, Carly shouting something at him. What worried you was that you didn’t hear him respond. You turned the corner, feet sticking to the wax as you gripped onto the doorway for balance. 

She was standing over him, baseball bat in her hands poised to bring it back down over his face. You could already see blood leaking down his face from where she’d hit him before. Without thinking you charged at her, wrapping your arms around her middle and taking her down to the floor. 

She let out a surprised yelp but you didn’t let her get much else out before you were wailing on her. You don’t know what happened after you grabbed her. You only remember punching her the first time, remember your knuckles splitting and your blood mingling with hers as she wrestled with you. 

All you could see was Bo laying on the floor, not moving, as this bitch stood over him with a bat. You were blinded by rage, a hot fury burning in your gut and keeping you moving as you pounded your fists into her. You felt satisfied by the sound of her bones crunching under you. 

She screamed at you, words you couldn’t hear as your blood rushed through your ears, and threw her hand up into your chin. You groaned, jaw whipping to the side. She pounced on you, digging her fingers into your throat until you couldn’t breathe and flipping you both over. 

You dragged your nails down her face, the skin digging under your nails like warm wax. You dragged your palms down until you could feel her throat, the movement it made as she took in a deep breath. You felt it bob up and down under your touch and you squeezed. She let out a strangled yelp and you could feel yourself slipping. You were becoming lost in a place of animalistic panic. 

You were almost dead, the man you loved was most likely lying dead next to you as you fought for your own life. Your vision was cloudy until it went completely black and then you felt arms wrapping around your chest and pulling you back. You kicked and screamed, still in fighting for your life until you recognized the voice in your ear. 

“Alright, it’s alright, it’s over.” You slumped back at the sound of Bo’s whispers. You ignored the feeling of his blood leaking into your shirt as he sat down with you, pulling you into his chest and squeezing until it hurt. 

You didn’t mind the pain, though, embracing it because it meant you were both alive. Both of you were okay. You reached back, wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into him. Carly lay dead a few feet in front of you, her face mangled and you looked down to see her blood soaking into your clothes. 

You had your own wounds from where she’d fought back, bleeding lacerations that you’d fix later. For now you sat with Bo, watching as Vincent stomped towards you both. In a minute you’d get up, help them clean up the house and the bodies. Then you’d all go home, you’d make dinner, pass out on the couch and wake up in one of their beds. Probably Bo, if his panicked grip was anything to go by. 

Life would go on as it always had, except you’d never have to see that chair again. You’d never be looking up through a grate as blood pooled on the garage floor. You’d go with Bo when he went to the city for supplies, you’d be able to pick out clothes that weren’t plucked from the hands of the dead. 

It wasn’t right. 

You weren’t a good person. 

You didn’t deserve salvation or heaven after all of this. 

But you’d found it and you were perfectly happy. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie House of Wax (2005), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

hello, I was wondering if you could do a female reader x Vincent Sinclair. Where the reader is very needy. Like she constantly just wants to be around him. They don't have to be talking just being around him is fine. If you don't write for house of wax that's fine. If you do this thank you. Have a good day!

Thank you for the request, I hope you like it. As I’m posting this I realized I kind of made the reader gender neutral because I never actually used pronouns. 🤍 gn!reader

You’re overwhelming, to say the least.

And that’s being kind. 

Vincent was his mother’s favorite, but even she had to cover his face. She might have favored him over Bo, but she didn’t love him, not the way a mother should. 

At least, that’s what you told him. 

Vincent was never sure if he should believe you or not. Bo had instilled in him that their mother was a saint. It was hard to lose that idealized image of her and replace it with the one you presented. But with the way you clung to him, hovered around him without a word, he started to wonder if maybe you had a point. 

Growing up, he wasn’t allowed to take the mask off. If he had to eat, his parent’s didn’t watch. He didn't know if it’s because he was so grotesque to them or because they couldn’t stand to see their failure. His mother was an artist, his father a doctor, yet somehow, they had created him. Formed him into this ugly and deformed creature. 

He struggled to reconcile with the fact that, maybe, someone truly could love him. He struggled with coming to terms that someone as kind as you, could love him. Most days he didn’t believe you. He would watch you carefully while you sat by his side. 

He waited for the inevitable, a look of disgust, a flinch when he came near. It never happened. He figured you were biding your time, sweetening him up and getting him to trust you before you made your escape. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the victims had done that to him. 

He almost wished he was right, that you were just a liar. He waited for you to slip up so he’d have a reason to keep you here forever in Ambrose. But you never did. Each day, you grew bolder, your presence nearly suffocated him. 

You don’t always touch him, you rarely ever talk. Your days are simply spent lingering around him, watching him work or reading while he sculpts. It’s odd, going from so many years on his own in his workshop to suddenly having a constant presence. 

He wonders why you don’t just go with Bo. He was the more handsome twin, more charming and funny. He could talk, he could walk around without a mask and be comfortable with himself. There was a clear language barrier between you and Vincent. 

His sign language was choppy at best because he’d had to learn it on his own. Bo and Lester learned some for him, but the family was pretty against it. You struggled to decipher his odd language but you still tried. He didn’t understand the effort. There was a “better” brother to choose from and, still, you stuck with him. 

Just as he looks over at you, you move from your spot by his desk. His fingers loosen around the tools in his hand while he watches you. You stretch, back bowing and a low groan leaving you as you finally move for the first time all day. You shoot him a smile before heading up the stairs out of his workshop. 

He stills and listens to the way your footsteps echo across the floorboards above him. You’re in the living room, you give a muffled greeting to Jonesy before heading towards the kitchen. His hands fidget restlessly with his tools but he can’t bring himself to get back to work. 

He hates when you go upstairs without him. He’s worried that one day he’ll hear the door open and close and he won't be able to get upstairs in time to get you back. He worries that he’ll hear Bo and you together upstairs, either in a fight or doing something worse. 

But you always come back. You’re never away from him for longer than you need to be. Your footsteps rush back towards the stairs and he feels some of the tension leave him. 

When you come back downstairs, a plate of food for you both, he pulls your chair closer to him. A silent invitation to stay close, one you eagerly accept. You sit beside him, leaning over his shoulder, and admire the sketches splayed out across his desk. 

You reach out, before he can stop you, and tug at the corner of one, pulling it out from under the others. Your eyes rove over the drawing of yourself, one of you sleeping on the couch he now keeps down here for you. You smile and glance up at him. When you lean forward and press a kiss against his masked cheek he wonders if maybe he needs you around just as much as you need him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie House of Wax, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

NOOOOO!!! You cant have a cliffhanger like that!! That's not fair!!!!

I loved it, this is amazing and hopefully, whenever you have the time, you'll write a part 2.❤❤🥰🥰

Idk if you write soulmate aus, but if you could write a bo sinclair x reader where you can feel your soulmates pain and have their exact scars. But the reader and some friends end up in Ambrose, and her friends figure out that bo is her soulmate and stabs her in the leg to slow him down so they can try and escape. The rest after that is up to you.

Ooooh I love this! I really took my time with this story because I wanted to make it perfect! Thank you so much for the request and for this awesome idea! I kinda made the reader more laid back. So she isn’t so up tight about everything. Kinda like how Carly was until the whole ‘I’m cuttin your finger off’ situation :) 

Soulmate Aus for Bo Sinclair x Reader

Warnings: Slight nsfw. This story contains violence, bad language, kidnapping, and horror elements. I took some inspiration from the movie! 😁 This story is kinda detailed..so I will warn when Vincent is prepping a body(person) to make a wax figure there will be talk off needles, cutting clothes, crying, etc. 

You and a couple friends were heading to some football game. You really didn't want to go but your old group of friends from high school asked you to join. Truthfully you don't even understand why you agreed to go. These people were so mean to you in high school. Bullying you whenever they wanted. Dropping you all the time. And even slept with one of your ex boyfriends. But here you were in the back seat of their car. You were sitting in the back with a girl named Samantha. She had brown hair and hazel eyes that looked like bowls of honey. Beside her was her brother Brain. They looked almost identical even though they were born months apart. In the driver's seat sat Kate. Kate was tall and slender. Her black hair was placed in a tight ponytail. She was the meanest out of the group. Always making fun of your height and body. She was like the evil Regina George only in real life. Kate thought every man wanted her and if they didn't they were 'stuck up' and 'rude.' Beside her was one of the sweetest people ever. Minnie. She was the only one who really was friends with you. The two of you had sleepovers and mall trips. But after high school you lost connection with her. The only reason you were here was because Minnie spotted you at a burger joint. “Y/n!? Is that you? It’s me Minnie from high school. Gosh it’s been so long!” She said running up to your table. “Hey Minnie, how are you?” You asked standing to give the girl a hug. “I’ve been great! I hope life has been treating you well. You look great!” She smiled. “Oh thank you, so do you.” You say smiling back at her. “Hey do you wanna come with me and a couple friends to see a football game? I know sports isn’t really your things but my now ex boyfriend ditched me.” She crossed her arms and pouted a little. Of course you agreed. How were you supposed to tell an already upset Minnie no? And that’s how you ended up in the car with the group of young adults on your way to see a game. That was nearly 9 to 10 hours away. As you sat in the backseat looking out the window you rubbed the scars on your wrist. The scars of your soulmate. You always wondered how they got these scars. Trying to think of more positive reasons. But they never made sense. Maybe your soulmate wrapped a rope around his wrist while playing a game of tug-a-war..  you thought but sighed. ‘That makes no sense Y/n’ You say to yourself while looking at the exposed scars. The short sleeve shirt you choose to wear didn’t help you hide them. Sometimes hiding the scars was easier than thinking about what possibly happened to your sweet partner. Always thinking the worst. Thankfully you always kept a small jacket with you. Just in case. As you and the group started driving through New Orleans the five of you grew tired so Kate decided to pull over and camp out. She was the definition of ‘Party Animal’ This girl brought beers and two radios. As she drunk herself dumb and danced around Brain set up a couple tents. Apparently they knew they were gonna have to stop to sleep. As you all sat around the fire Brian built a truck pulled up flashing his brights on to see you all. Of course you got freaked out. Brian started yelling at whoever was in the truck and Kate in her drunken slumber flipped the person off and tried to flash him back. But Minnie stopped her. Once the truck left you all decided it was time to sleep. Minnie shared her tent with you. She was already sound asleep as you were still up rubbing your thumb over your wrist. One day you’ll meet the man with the scarred wrist. One day. As you fell asleep you thought about what your soulmate could possibly look like. And the things the two of you would do together. Thinking about the good memories to come made you fall right to sleep. 

When morning came you woke up to the sound of a pissed off Kate. Getting out to see what was the matter, you saw smoke coming from her car. “Oh shit, what is happening?” You asked. “The motor is shot to shit.” Brian said as Kate ranted about how much she hated her car. “There is a town close by. I saw the sign on the ride here. Maybe someone could help us.” Minnie said as you grabbed your bag after putting on your jacket. “ I am not walking! Do you really think I am going to stomp through the woods in these heels!” Kate shouted. “Look Minnie and I can go ‘stomp’ through the woods.” You said to her. “I’ll go with you two.” Said Samantha. “Great lets go.” Minnie said, taking the lead. After walking what felt like hours a truck started coming down the road. The three of you shouted and waved your arms, flagging the dirty truck down. When the truck got closer it stopped. The smell slapped you in the face hard but you tried not to say anything. Of course Samantha made a few unneeded comments. A man crawled out the truck and walked to the front. He was dirty and smelly. He looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. But you could tell he was a working man. “Do you ladies need a hand? What are you doin’ out here anyways?” He asked. His thick country accent made you smile. The other girls seemed scared of him but you weren’t. “Me and a couple of friends were camping out down the road. And my friend's car motor has stopped working. We saw a sign a little ways about a town around here.. Do you know anyone who could help us?” You said trusting the man. You don’t know why but you didn’t see him as ‘scary’ or ‘freakish’. He was a working man living paycheck to paycheck. The two girls looked at you like you were crazy. “Well there is a town down the road called Ambrose. Bo might be able to help you and your friends. I could give ya a ride if ya like.” The man said as he chewed on a toothpick. “Yes please. Thank you so much.” You said giving the man a soft smile but the girls glared at you. “Of course.” the man opened the door to the truck for you. You got in first then Minnie and Samantha. He closed the door and quickly walked over to the driver's seat. The four of you in this truck made it a tight squeeze. You tried to stay closer to Minnie but your leg still touched the man. “Could you please roll down the window, this one doesn’t work. And it smells terrible.” Samantha said with an attitude. “This old truck has seen better days.” The man chuckled and rolled down his window. “Sorry, I’ve kinda gotten use to the smell.” The man said as he drove. “I don’t think I could ever get use to it.” Minnie said as she covered her nose with her shirt. “Well you can get used to anything, if you’ve been around it long enough.” He said looking at us then back at the road. You sat beside the man trying not to think about the animal bones hitting the back of your head but of course the other two weren’t so mindful. “Sometimes if you get 'em early before the sun bakes' em up, they ain’t so bad. But if they’re fresh I just take em home. Why waste the meat?” The man said, looking at the three of you. That’s when Minnie nudged you, pointing at the man’s hip. How did you not notice the huge knife on this man’s hip? Well he is a hunter. “You like knives?” The man perked up getting excited about the topic. “Kinda.”You nodded “No not really.” Minnie said with a shaky voice.”Tools of the trade. You wanna see it?” The man ripped the knife from its holster. “it’s a Bowie, it’s a good knife. That’ll cut through anything.” The man said, showing off his knife before shoving the knife into the dashboard and slamming on breaks. Making you and the other two girls sling forward. “Oh shit!” Samantha yelled. “The town is just around that bend. I gotta flip my my hubs into four-wheel.” You nodded at the man. Still trusting him. “When was the last time you were here?” Minnie asked. The man was already out of the truck. “Well, you don’t believe me?” He asked looking into the truck at the red headed girl. “I forgot this way in’s washed out, that’s all.” Before you could speak Samantha had already started. “We’ll just walk the rest of the way. Thank you.” She said trying to get the truck door opened. “Now, why would you want to do that?” He asked. “Samantha, stop it.” You say but she kept going. “We wanna walk, okay? Just let us out!” She yelled at him. He looked kinda hurt. “Sure” He grabbed his knife and walked over to the other side and swung the door open. Samantha sighed in relief when she saw that the knife wasn’t in his hands anymore. “Well, get out then!” The man raised his voice a bit. Samantha and Minnie hopped out the truck with quickness but you lingered a bit. You wanted to apologize. That man had been sweet enough to pick the three of you up and give you a ride into the town. “try and do something nice for someone.” He said making you frown. “Look its not like that.” Samantha said with an attitude. “We appreciate it.” Minnie said. “Yeah I can tell.” The man chuckled, obviously irritated. When you got out of the truck you turned towards him. “Thank you for the ride. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry about them.” You tell the man. He just nodded and gave you a small smile. You waved bye to him as the three of you walked over the water and up the hill entering town. “That guy was a freak!” Samantha shouted. “I kinda feel bad. We jumped out right when he was about to pull into the town.” Minnie said while Samantha rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t a freak. He was really nice. You were being a bitch towards him. Just because people aren’t rich like you doesn’t mean you can treat them bad.” You told Samantha. “Wow whatever.” You all walked up the road. Placing shops and homes before getting to the station.  “Hello?” You called out but no one answered. Samantha looked through the garage windows while you opened the station door sticking your head in. “Hello? Anyone here? Bo?” You called out but still nothing. “No one is here.” Samantha said. Like you didn’t know. “Alright well I’m gonna stay here. He might come back. Well he has to in order to lock up.” You said sitting down on the ground. Minnie bit the skin on her fingers. “Well I’m not waiting around. I would actually like to see the game unlike some people. Come on Minnie.” Samantha said, dragging Minnie with her as she walked up the road. You stayed put like you said you would. You rubbed your wrist as you looked around the town. ‘Hm a House of Wax? I love wax figures’ you thought to yourself. Minnie and Samantha continued up the road. “Maybe there is someone in the church. There is always at least one person in a church.” Samantha said with a nervous Minnie following her. She pushed the doors open walking in on a funeral. They looked at the man kneeled in front of a coffin. They mouthed sorry to the man when he turned around to look at them. They quickly shut the door and went outside. “I can’t believe we just did that Sam.” Minnie said right before the man came outside. “Hello. I’m so sorry we walked in.” Minnie started. “You shouldn’t have walked in.” The man said as he pulled out a cigarette. “Yeah, we know but my friend’s car is messed up and we aren’t from around here.” Samantha said. “Yeah we are actually looking for a man named..Bo? I think that’s what Y/n said.” Minnie said looking at Samantha who just shrugged her shoulders. “Y/n knows. She’s at the station. She wanted to wait for him to get there. She doesn’t like snooping around.” Samantha said. “Well you found him.” Bo said, lighting his cigarette. “Really? Well my friend's motor is as my brother said. Shot to shit.” Before Samantha could keep talking Bo stopped her. “So you walked in on a fucking funeral?” Bo said, exhaling. “Just let me dump the casket in the ground. Then I’ll be right there.” He threw his cigarette on the ground and walked back inside. After a few seconds he came back out. “Hey, I’m sorry. You know someone very important to me passed and I didn’t mean to take it out on the two of you.” “No no. It's okay. We understand.” Minnie said to him. “I reckon things will wrap up soon. What about I meet you both back at the station in about a half?” The two girls both nodded. “yeah that would be great if it's okay.” Minnie said. Bo nodded. “Yeah” He said, looking her up and down. Then he went back into the church. “Well look who has a new fan.” Samantha teased. “Oh stop it! He didn’t have my scar..” Minnie said as she rubbed the small scar on her neck “Yeah, yeah..Hey lets go to that House Of Wax.” Samantha said as she started walking in that direction. “And just leave Y/n sitting at the gas station? Yeah no. I’m gonna go tell her what that man said.” Minnie sad. “Well I’m going to the wax museum.” Samantha said leaving Minnie there alone. Minnie sighed and walked back to the station. “Hey, no one’s showed up yet..Where’s Samantha? Did you guys find anyone?” You asked looking up at Minnie from your seat on the ground. “Yeah we found that Bo guy. He was in the church..We walked in on a funeral. One of his loved ones passed. He was really cute, but no visible scars. Sam went to that House Of Wax. I don’t know why she would want to look that creepy wax figures..” Minnie said as she got chills. “Just thinking about them freaks me out.” She said. “Wait you both walked in on a funeral? Wow that is a different type of low.” You said as you giggled a little. “He must have been really cute if you were looking for scars. You never look for scars. Wax figures aren’t that creepy. It’s just wax Minnie.” You said looking up at her. “Well I would like to meet my soulmate.” She crossed her arms. “They are terrifying! What if there are bodies under the wax?” You busted out laughing. “You watch way to many horror movies.” Minnie rolled her eyes. 

As Samantha walked up to the building she noticed a ‘closed’ sign but no sign was going to stop her so after looking around she went inside. The place was very creepy. Now understanding why Minnie is so freaked out by wax figures. “Huh? Isn’t there suppose to be famous people in wax museums?” She asked herself out loud. Continuing to look the vibe started to change drastically. Samantha looked in a mirror, fixing her hair and makeup. Noticing a tall figure staring at her from the corner. She turned around to see the figure. “Damn this one is realistic.” She said walking up to the tall wax like man. Samantha touched the wax face and noticed that it blinked. She went to scream but before she could the man stunk her against the head with the handle of his knife. Samantha fell to the floor with a thud. The tall wax faced man with the long black hair dragged her down to the basement. As Samantha started to wake up she tried to touch her swollen head but couldn’t. She raised her head seeing that she was strapped to a dirty table. “Help me!” She screamed looking over she saw a spotted dog on a bed. Looking over to her left she was face to face with the nameless man. “Please let me go.” She begged as she started to cry. Only crying harder when the man put a needle in her neck. The man unstrapped her limbs when she wasn’t able to move them anymore. Samantha just cried as the man started to cut her clothes off. Feeling the water hit her legs and torso she continued looking around as best as she could. Samantha cried helplessly, trying to beg him to let her go but it was mostly grunts and groans. As the man serried wax across her eye brows she got tensed. After waxing her eyebrows the man put the unconscious Samantha into a metal contraption. Pouring wax all over her. 

Minnie looked around the shop as you watched her from the doorway. “Don’t touch his stuff Minnie.” You told her for the millionth time. “What? I’m bored. It feel like its been hours.” Minnie groaned. “I wonder what Sam is doing.” She said as she picked up random tools looking at them. “Probably vandalizing poor pieces of art.” You said as Minnie just nodded. “Everything in here could be used to kill someone.” She said looking back at you. You rolled your eyes and walked up to her. “You never know that tool your holding could have brutally butchered some helpless soul.” She said chuckling afterwards as she threw the tool down on the table. “Ya’ll plan on stealin those?” You both jumped and looked at the tall man leaning against the doorway. “N-no we were just fooling around.” Minnie said as her face went bright red from embarrassment. “I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea.” You said as you walked out of the garage back into the store. “No, it’s okay.” Bo said making you smile. You pulled up your sleeves on your jacket, showing your scars. “Why don’t we head to the house. I can get the key to the tow truck and we can go find your friend’s car.” Bo said as he walked out the the station. You eagerly followed. You were very attracted to this man and wanted to be close to him. “My names Y/n. I don’t believe we met yet.” You said walking beside the man as Minnie tried to run up to you. “I’m Bo. Its a pleasure to meet you.” Bo smiled shooting you his signature grin. “Why are the keys at your house? Shouldn’t they be at the station.” Minnie asked the man as she started getting scared. “Well I keep them at the house so no one steals them.” He said. “Where is your other friend?” He asked looking at Minnie. “Oh she went to the wax museum. I don’t know what’s taking her so long.” Minnie said as she looked at him then at you. “Damn Y/n what happened to your wrist.” She said fairly loud. Minnie never saw your scars before you tried your best to keep them hidden. “Oh um..” You said as Bo looked at your wrist. Quickly you pushed your sleeves down. “I don’t know. They belong to my soulmate.” You said looking up at Bo who was starring a hole right through you. The rest of the walk was pretty quiet. “So is it late to sign up for that beauty pageant?” You asked trying to break the ice. “Unfortunately it is, cause you would of won hands down.”  Bo said as he looked at you. “Oh thank you.” You blushed a little making Bo smirk. As the three of you got to the house Bo opened the door to his truck. “Go ahead and hop on in. I’ll drive us down to the station to pick up the tow truck.” He said as he helped you get into the truck. “Do ya’ll need to use the can?” He said smiling brightly at the two girls. “No I don’t” You said with a small chuckle. Minnie shook her head as she got into the truck. “Alright.” Bo smiled and closed the door. He walked into the house. Sitting in the truck for what seemed like 10 minutes the strange man finally came out. You watched as he got into the truck. “I got you two some water. It can get quite hot out here. Wouldn’t want you two to get dehydrated.” He said handing you and Minnie a water bottle. You thanked him as you opened the bottle. ‘Its just water’ You said to yourself. Minnie watched in horror as you drink the water. Trusting you and your judgement she drunk her water too. Once the truck pulled up at the station you felt off. Like something wasn’t right. “Bo? What was in that water?” You ask him as your head started to spin. You soon passed out, your head falling onto Bo’s shoulder. 

As Minnie started to wake up she tried to rub her head. Failing to do so by some restraints. She looked at her wrist watching the man as he wrapped tape around her wrist. “Hey!” She muffled out through the rag in her mouth. Bo smirked as he started to tape her legs together. Minnie’s eyes widened as she starred at his scarred wrist. Taking notice to this he quickly pulled his sleeves down. “Y/n!” Minnie yelled as best as she could. She looked around trying to find you. You woke up hearing the yelling. “Bo?” You mumbled out. Your eyes were covered and your arms were above your head being held by something. “Bo” You called. Bo quickly covered Minnie with a tarp so he could hide her. Bo walked over to you and pushed your jacket down from your eyes. Somehow he had rolled your jacket up so he could use it to blindfold you. Once you were able to see him you were relived. “What happened?” You ask as Bo removed the chains that held your hands above your head. “Some crazy man tried to rob the station.” He said as he picked you up and took you outside. “Why would someone rob the station?” You asked holding onto Bo. You looked around seeing Kate’s car. “That’s my friends car..how did it get down here?” You asked looking at Bo. “How long was I asleep? Wait..what was in the water?” You asked as you started putting two and two together. “You drugged me!” You yelled at the man as you tried to get out of his grasp. “Shh..Its okay.” Bo hushed you as he rubbed your head. “We have the same scars dariln’” He whispered in your ear. You looked at the man a bit confused. “Sit still and I’ll show you.” You looked at him for some reason you felt like you could trust him so you nodded. “Ok Bo.” Bo slowly released your arms never breaking eye contact, he slowly pulled up his sleeves. You gasp as seeing the scars, you placed your wrist beside his. It was a perfect match. Your head shot up when you heard muffled groans and something that sounded like a bad attempt at a scream. Seeing the tarp moving slightly you grew tense. Bo took notice and quickly grabbed your wrist. “Look at me darlin...we are meant to be girly.” Your widened eyes shot to Bo. He flashed you his signature grin. “Now I got some work to do but don’t you worry darlin i wont hurt ya.” He said as he chained your arms back up, standing up he slowly rubbed your head and pushed your jacket back down to cover your eyes. What the hell have you gotta into you asked yourself. You had so many questions but they were to remain unanswered for right now.

Not the best ending but I hope you enjoyed!! I might make a part two! I left you on a clift hanger from hell lol 

NOOOOO!!! You cant have a cliffhanger like that!! That's not fair!!!!

I loved it, this is amazing and hopefully, whenever you have the time, you'll write a part 2.❤❤🥰🥰

Idk if you write soulmate aus, but if you could write a bo sinclair x reader where you can feel your soulmates pain and have their exact scars. But the reader and some friends end up in Ambrose, and her friends figure out that bo is her soulmate and stabs her in the leg to slow him down so they can try and escape. The rest after that is up to you.

Ooooh I love this! I really took my time with this story because I wanted to make it perfect! Thank you so much for the request and for this awesome idea! I kinda made the reader more laid back. So she isn’t so up tight about everything. Kinda like how Carly was until the whole ‘I’m cuttin your finger off’ situation :) 

Soulmate Aus for Bo Sinclair x Reader

Warnings: Slight nsfw. This story contains violence, bad language, kidnapping, and horror elements. I took some inspiration from the movie! 😁 This story is kinda detailed..so I will warn when Vincent is prepping a body(person) to make a wax figure there will be talk off needles, cutting clothes, crying, etc. 

You and a couple friends were heading to some football game. You really didn't want to go but your old group of friends from high school asked you to join. Truthfully you don't even understand why you agreed to go. These people were so mean to you in high school. Bullying you whenever they wanted. Dropping you all the time. And even slept with one of your ex boyfriends. But here you were in the back seat of their car. You were sitting in the back with a girl named Samantha. She had brown hair and hazel eyes that looked like bowls of honey. Beside her was her brother Brain. They looked almost identical even though they were born months apart. In the driver's seat sat Kate. Kate was tall and slender. Her black hair was placed in a tight ponytail. She was the meanest out of the group. Always making fun of your height and body. She was like the evil Regina George only in real life. Kate thought every man wanted her and if they didn't they were 'stuck up' and 'rude.' Beside her was one of the sweetest people ever. Minnie. She was the only one who really was friends with you. The two of you had sleepovers and mall trips. But after high school you lost connection with her. The only reason you were here was because Minnie spotted you at a burger joint. “Y/n!? Is that you? It’s me Minnie from high school. Gosh it’s been so long!” She said running up to your table. “Hey Minnie, how are you?” You asked standing to give the girl a hug. “I’ve been great! I hope life has been treating you well. You look great!” She smiled. “Oh thank you, so do you.” You say smiling back at her. “Hey do you wanna come with me and a couple friends to see a football game? I know sports isn’t really your things but my now ex boyfriend ditched me.” She crossed her arms and pouted a little. Of course you agreed. How were you supposed to tell an already upset Minnie no? And that’s how you ended up in the car with the group of young adults on your way to see a game. That was nearly 9 to 10 hours away. As you sat in the backseat looking out the window you rubbed the scars on your wrist. The scars of your soulmate. You always wondered how they got these scars. Trying to think of more positive reasons. But they never made sense. Maybe your soulmate wrapped a rope around his wrist while playing a game of tug-a-war..  you thought but sighed. ‘That makes no sense Y/n’ You say to yourself while looking at the exposed scars. The short sleeve shirt you choose to wear didn’t help you hide them. Sometimes hiding the scars was easier than thinking about what possibly happened to your sweet partner. Always thinking the worst. Thankfully you always kept a small jacket with you. Just in case. As you and the group started driving through New Orleans the five of you grew tired so Kate decided to pull over and camp out. She was the definition of ‘Party Animal’ This girl brought beers and two radios. As she drunk herself dumb and danced around Brain set up a couple tents. Apparently they knew they were gonna have to stop to sleep. As you all sat around the fire Brian built a truck pulled up flashing his brights on to see you all. Of course you got freaked out. Brian started yelling at whoever was in the truck and Kate in her drunken slumber flipped the person off and tried to flash him back. But Minnie stopped her. Once the truck left you all decided it was time to sleep. Minnie shared her tent with you. She was already sound asleep as you were still up rubbing your thumb over your wrist. One day you’ll meet the man with the scarred wrist. One day. As you fell asleep you thought about what your soulmate could possibly look like. And the things the two of you would do together. Thinking about the good memories to come made you fall right to sleep. 

When morning came you woke up to the sound of a pissed off Kate. Getting out to see what was the matter, you saw smoke coming from her car. “Oh shit, what is happening?” You asked. “The motor is shot to shit.” Brian said as Kate ranted about how much she hated her car. “There is a town close by. I saw the sign on the ride here. Maybe someone could help us.” Minnie said as you grabbed your bag after putting on your jacket. “ I am not walking! Do you really think I am going to stomp through the woods in these heels!” Kate shouted. “Look Minnie and I can go ‘stomp’ through the woods.” You said to her. “I’ll go with you two.” Said Samantha. “Great lets go.” Minnie said, taking the lead. After walking what felt like hours a truck started coming down the road. The three of you shouted and waved your arms, flagging the dirty truck down. When the truck got closer it stopped. The smell slapped you in the face hard but you tried not to say anything. Of course Samantha made a few unneeded comments. A man crawled out the truck and walked to the front. He was dirty and smelly. He looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. But you could tell he was a working man. “Do you ladies need a hand? What are you doin’ out here anyways?” He asked. His thick country accent made you smile. The other girls seemed scared of him but you weren’t. “Me and a couple of friends were camping out down the road. And my friend's car motor has stopped working. We saw a sign a little ways about a town around here.. Do you know anyone who could help us?” You said trusting the man. You don’t know why but you didn’t see him as ‘scary’ or ‘freakish’. He was a working man living paycheck to paycheck. The two girls looked at you like you were crazy. “Well there is a town down the road called Ambrose. Bo might be able to help you and your friends. I could give ya a ride if ya like.” The man said as he chewed on a toothpick. “Yes please. Thank you so much.” You said giving the man a soft smile but the girls glared at you. “Of course.” the man opened the door to the truck for you. You got in first then Minnie and Samantha. He closed the door and quickly walked over to the driver's seat. The four of you in this truck made it a tight squeeze. You tried to stay closer to Minnie but your leg still touched the man. “Could you please roll down the window, this one doesn’t work. And it smells terrible.” Samantha said with an attitude. “This old truck has seen better days.” The man chuckled and rolled down his window. “Sorry, I’ve kinda gotten use to the smell.” The man said as he drove. “I don’t think I could ever get use to it.” Minnie said as she covered her nose with her shirt. “Well you can get used to anything, if you’ve been around it long enough.” He said looking at us then back at the road. You sat beside the man trying not to think about the animal bones hitting the back of your head but of course the other two weren’t so mindful. “Sometimes if you get 'em early before the sun bakes' em up, they ain’t so bad. But if they’re fresh I just take em home. Why waste the meat?” The man said, looking at the three of you. That’s when Minnie nudged you, pointing at the man’s hip. How did you not notice the huge knife on this man’s hip? Well he is a hunter. “You like knives?” The man perked up getting excited about the topic. “Kinda.”You nodded “No not really.” Minnie said with a shaky voice.”Tools of the trade. You wanna see it?” The man ripped the knife from its holster. “it’s a Bowie, it’s a good knife. That’ll cut through anything.” The man said, showing off his knife before shoving the knife into the dashboard and slamming on breaks. Making you and the other two girls sling forward. “Oh shit!” Samantha yelled. “The town is just around that bend. I gotta flip my my hubs into four-wheel.” You nodded at the man. Still trusting him. “When was the last time you were here?” Minnie asked. The man was already out of the truck. “Well, you don’t believe me?” He asked looking into the truck at the red headed girl. “I forgot this way in’s washed out, that’s all.” Before you could speak Samantha had already started. “We’ll just walk the rest of the way. Thank you.” She said trying to get the truck door opened. “Now, why would you want to do that?” He asked. “Samantha, stop it.” You say but she kept going. “We wanna walk, okay? Just let us out!” She yelled at him. He looked kinda hurt. “Sure” He grabbed his knife and walked over to the other side and swung the door open. Samantha sighed in relief when she saw that the knife wasn’t in his hands anymore. “Well, get out then!” The man raised his voice a bit. Samantha and Minnie hopped out the truck with quickness but you lingered a bit. You wanted to apologize. That man had been sweet enough to pick the three of you up and give you a ride into the town. “try and do something nice for someone.” He said making you frown. “Look its not like that.” Samantha said with an attitude. “We appreciate it.” Minnie said. “Yeah I can tell.” The man chuckled, obviously irritated. When you got out of the truck you turned towards him. “Thank you for the ride. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry about them.” You tell the man. He just nodded and gave you a small smile. You waved bye to him as the three of you walked over the water and up the hill entering town. “That guy was a freak!” Samantha shouted. “I kinda feel bad. We jumped out right when he was about to pull into the town.” Minnie said while Samantha rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t a freak. He was really nice. You were being a bitch towards him. Just because people aren’t rich like you doesn’t mean you can treat them bad.” You told Samantha. “Wow whatever.” You all walked up the road. Placing shops and homes before getting to the station.  “Hello?” You called out but no one answered. Samantha looked through the garage windows while you opened the station door sticking your head in. “Hello? Anyone here? Bo?” You called out but still nothing. “No one is here.” Samantha said. Like you didn’t know. “Alright well I’m gonna stay here. He might come back. Well he has to in order to lock up.” You said sitting down on the ground. Minnie bit the skin on her fingers. “Well I’m not waiting around. I would actually like to see the game unlike some people. Come on Minnie.” Samantha said, dragging Minnie with her as she walked up the road. You stayed put like you said you would. You rubbed your wrist as you looked around the town. ‘Hm a House of Wax? I love wax figures’ you thought to yourself. Minnie and Samantha continued up the road. “Maybe there is someone in the church. There is always at least one person in a church.” Samantha said with a nervous Minnie following her. She pushed the doors open walking in on a funeral. They looked at the man kneeled in front of a coffin. They mouthed sorry to the man when he turned around to look at them. They quickly shut the door and went outside. “I can’t believe we just did that Sam.” Minnie said right before the man came outside. “Hello. I’m so sorry we walked in.” Minnie started. “You shouldn’t have walked in.” The man said as he pulled out a cigarette. “Yeah, we know but my friend’s car is messed up and we aren’t from around here.” Samantha said. “Yeah we are actually looking for a man named..Bo? I think that’s what Y/n said.” Minnie said looking at Samantha who just shrugged her shoulders. “Y/n knows. She’s at the station. She wanted to wait for him to get there. She doesn’t like snooping around.” Samantha said. “Well you found him.” Bo said, lighting his cigarette. “Really? Well my friend's motor is as my brother said. Shot to shit.” Before Samantha could keep talking Bo stopped her. “So you walked in on a fucking funeral?” Bo said, exhaling. “Just let me dump the casket in the ground. Then I’ll be right there.” He threw his cigarette on the ground and walked back inside. After a few seconds he came back out. “Hey, I’m sorry. You know someone very important to me passed and I didn’t mean to take it out on the two of you.” “No no. It's okay. We understand.” Minnie said to him. “I reckon things will wrap up soon. What about I meet you both back at the station in about a half?” The two girls both nodded. “yeah that would be great if it's okay.” Minnie said. Bo nodded. “Yeah” He said, looking her up and down. Then he went back into the church. “Well look who has a new fan.” Samantha teased. “Oh stop it! He didn’t have my scar..” Minnie said as she rubbed the small scar on her neck “Yeah, yeah..Hey lets go to that House Of Wax.” Samantha said as she started walking in that direction. “And just leave Y/n sitting at the gas station? Yeah no. I’m gonna go tell her what that man said.” Minnie sad. “Well I’m going to the wax museum.” Samantha said leaving Minnie there alone. Minnie sighed and walked back to the station. “Hey, no one’s showed up yet..Where’s Samantha? Did you guys find anyone?” You asked looking up at Minnie from your seat on the ground. “Yeah we found that Bo guy. He was in the church..We walked in on a funeral. One of his loved ones passed. He was really cute, but no visible scars. Sam went to that House Of Wax. I don’t know why she would want to look that creepy wax figures..” Minnie said as she got chills. “Just thinking about them freaks me out.” She said. “Wait you both walked in on a funeral? Wow that is a different type of low.” You said as you giggled a little. “He must have been really cute if you were looking for scars. You never look for scars. Wax figures aren’t that creepy. It’s just wax Minnie.” You said looking up at her. “Well I would like to meet my soulmate.” She crossed her arms. “They are terrifying! What if there are bodies under the wax?” You busted out laughing. “You watch way to many horror movies.” Minnie rolled her eyes. 

As Samantha walked up to the building she noticed a ‘closed’ sign but no sign was going to stop her so after looking around she went inside. The place was very creepy. Now understanding why Minnie is so freaked out by wax figures. “Huh? Isn’t there suppose to be famous people in wax museums?” She asked herself out loud. Continuing to look the vibe started to change drastically. Samantha looked in a mirror, fixing her hair and makeup. Noticing a tall figure staring at her from the corner. She turned around to see the figure. “Damn this one is realistic.” She said walking up to the tall wax like man. Samantha touched the wax face and noticed that it blinked. She went to scream but before she could the man stunk her against the head with the handle of his knife. Samantha fell to the floor with a thud. The tall wax faced man with the long black hair dragged her down to the basement. As Samantha started to wake up she tried to touch her swollen head but couldn’t. She raised her head seeing that she was strapped to a dirty table. “Help me!” She screamed looking over she saw a spotted dog on a bed. Looking over to her left she was face to face with the nameless man. “Please let me go.” She begged as she started to cry. Only crying harder when the man put a needle in her neck. The man unstrapped her limbs when she wasn’t able to move them anymore. Samantha just cried as the man started to cut her clothes off. Feeling the water hit her legs and torso she continued looking around as best as she could. Samantha cried helplessly, trying to beg him to let her go but it was mostly grunts and groans. As the man serried wax across her eye brows she got tensed. After waxing her eyebrows the man put the unconscious Samantha into a metal contraption. Pouring wax all over her. 

Minnie looked around the shop as you watched her from the doorway. “Don’t touch his stuff Minnie.” You told her for the millionth time. “What? I’m bored. It feel like its been hours.” Minnie groaned. “I wonder what Sam is doing.” She said as she picked up random tools looking at them. “Probably vandalizing poor pieces of art.” You said as Minnie just nodded. “Everything in here could be used to kill someone.” She said looking back at you. You rolled your eyes and walked up to her. “You never know that tool your holding could have brutally butchered some helpless soul.” She said chuckling afterwards as she threw the tool down on the table. “Ya’ll plan on stealin those?” You both jumped and looked at the tall man leaning against the doorway. “N-no we were just fooling around.” Minnie said as her face went bright red from embarrassment. “I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea.” You said as you walked out of the garage back into the store. “No, it’s okay.” Bo said making you smile. You pulled up your sleeves on your jacket, showing your scars. “Why don’t we head to the house. I can get the key to the tow truck and we can go find your friend’s car.” Bo said as he walked out the the station. You eagerly followed. You were very attracted to this man and wanted to be close to him. “My names Y/n. I don’t believe we met yet.” You said walking beside the man as Minnie tried to run up to you. “I’m Bo. Its a pleasure to meet you.” Bo smiled shooting you his signature grin. “Why are the keys at your house? Shouldn’t they be at the station.” Minnie asked the man as she started getting scared. “Well I keep them at the house so no one steals them.” He said. “Where is your other friend?” He asked looking at Minnie. “Oh she went to the wax museum. I don’t know what’s taking her so long.” Minnie said as she looked at him then at you. “Damn Y/n what happened to your wrist.” She said fairly loud. Minnie never saw your scars before you tried your best to keep them hidden. “Oh um..” You said as Bo looked at your wrist. Quickly you pushed your sleeves down. “I don’t know. They belong to my soulmate.” You said looking up at Bo who was starring a hole right through you. The rest of the walk was pretty quiet. “So is it late to sign up for that beauty pageant?” You asked trying to break the ice. “Unfortunately it is, cause you would of won hands down.”  Bo said as he looked at you. “Oh thank you.” You blushed a little making Bo smirk. As the three of you got to the house Bo opened the door to his truck. “Go ahead and hop on in. I’ll drive us down to the station to pick up the tow truck.” He said as he helped you get into the truck. “Do ya’ll need to use the can?” He said smiling brightly at the two girls. “No I don’t” You said with a small chuckle. Minnie shook her head as she got into the truck. “Alright.” Bo smiled and closed the door. He walked into the house. Sitting in the truck for what seemed like 10 minutes the strange man finally came out. You watched as he got into the truck. “I got you two some water. It can get quite hot out here. Wouldn’t want you two to get dehydrated.” He said handing you and Minnie a water bottle. You thanked him as you opened the bottle. ‘Its just water’ You said to yourself. Minnie watched in horror as you drink the water. Trusting you and your judgement she drunk her water too. Once the truck pulled up at the station you felt off. Like something wasn’t right. “Bo? What was in that water?” You ask him as your head started to spin. You soon passed out, your head falling onto Bo’s shoulder. 

As Minnie started to wake up she tried to rub her head. Failing to do so by some restraints. She looked at her wrist watching the man as he wrapped tape around her wrist. “Hey!” She muffled out through the rag in her mouth. Bo smirked as he started to tape her legs together. Minnie’s eyes widened as she starred at his scarred wrist. Taking notice to this he quickly pulled his sleeves down. “Y/n!” Minnie yelled as best as she could. She looked around trying to find you. You woke up hearing the yelling. “Bo?” You mumbled out. Your eyes were covered and your arms were above your head being held by something. “Bo” You called. Bo quickly covered Minnie with a tarp so he could hide her. Bo walked over to you and pushed your jacket down from your eyes. Somehow he had rolled your jacket up so he could use it to blindfold you. Once you were able to see him you were relived. “What happened?” You ask as Bo removed the chains that held your hands above your head. “Some crazy man tried to rob the station.” He said as he picked you up and took you outside. “Why would someone rob the station?” You asked holding onto Bo. You looked around seeing Kate’s car. “That’s my friends car..how did it get down here?” You asked looking at Bo. “How long was I asleep? Wait..what was in the water?” You asked as you started putting two and two together. “You drugged me!” You yelled at the man as you tried to get out of his grasp. “Shh..Its okay.” Bo hushed you as he rubbed your head. “We have the same scars dariln’” He whispered in your ear. You looked at the man a bit confused. “Sit still and I’ll show you.” You looked at him for some reason you felt like you could trust him so you nodded. “Ok Bo.” Bo slowly released your arms never breaking eye contact, he slowly pulled up his sleeves. You gasp as seeing the scars, you placed your wrist beside his. It was a perfect match. Your head shot up when you heard muffled groans and something that sounded like a bad attempt at a scream. Seeing the tarp moving slightly you grew tense. Bo took notice and quickly grabbed your wrist. “Look at me darlin...we are meant to be girly.” Your widened eyes shot to Bo. He flashed you his signature grin. “Now I got some work to do but don’t you worry darlin i wont hurt ya.” He said as he chained your arms back up, standing up he slowly rubbed your head and pushed your jacket back down to cover your eyes. What the hell have you gotta into you asked yourself. You had so many questions but they were to remain unanswered for right now.

Not the best ending but I hope you enjoyed!! I might make a part two! I left you on a clift hanger from hell lol 

"my child is fine"

dude, your child finds comfort in horror movie characters

omgg he's soo cute (i want to peg him. i want to make him whimper. i want to edge him till he cries and begs me to cum)

middle school me reading the most jaw dropping toe curling traumatizing fanfic at 4 am when i had to wake up at 6 am

⭑ HC’S OF SLASHERS WITH A BIMBO S/O

⭑ authors note: this was very fun to make so feel free to request any similar head canons also lmk if i should make a part two with more slashers :)

⭑ warnings: small mention of kidnapping, some of them immediately make your appearance sexual (sorry but they’re very mentally unstable), stalking, mention of panty stealing, corruption kink, aged up stu as if he got away with the killings and went on to college, small mention of fucking in a bathroom, basically they’re all perverts to some extent (sorry)

⭑ characters: thomas hewitt, michael myers, bo sinclair, lester sinclair, vincent sinclair, stu macher

no detailed smut, but minors don’t interact please!

THOMAS HEWITT

- living in the conservative and rural south, i doubt he’s seen many people decked out in as much pink as you while also simultaneously wearing as little clothing as possible

- luda mae will definitely judge you by the way you dress but once she gets to see how well you treat her tommy she’s letting it slide and excusing it by saying that it’s necessary to dress like that in the heat or something

- once you’re an established person in the hewitt residence i feel like they wouldn’t really have to hide their cannabalism from you too hard due to you being you know . . . oblivious

- hoyt would 100% make some sort of remark to you that has thomas fuming, like he knows you’re such a kind and gentle person and hoyt should not be trying to get with you like that, even if you don’t necessarily notice that he’s being sleazy toward you

- i know thomas would low key struggle to contain himself around you and is definitely ashamed about it because he should not be feeling this way when you’re not even doing anything necessarily sexual

- like he feels pathetic palming himself in secret while thinking about you in your short skirts and tight tops but after you find out about this he’ll absolutely let you help him out with it

- imagine trying to calm the creaking from his bed so his family doesn’t hear as you ride him silly with your skirt rolled up your thighs and his big hands holding onto your waist . . .

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

MICHAEL MYERS

- the amount of pink you’re wearing is what first catches michaels attention. he definitely stalks you at first and just watches you waltz around in your bright pink attire, oblivious to michael watching you, very obviously too.

- to be honest i think this would frustrate him at first, like why aren’t you noticing that there a dangerous man following you around?!

- oh my god and if you’re someone who constantly forgets to lock their doors? michael is literally taking that as an invitation to break into your place. he doesn’t even bother to hide whenever you come walking down stairs in your short and cutesy matching pajama top and bottoms, he just waits for you to notice.

- mans is absolutely baffled whenever you turn to him and instead of freaking out, you just smile and ask him if he’s hungry. i would like to say that he would take this invitation and take a container of whatever food you have and then just awkwardly leave and question his whole entire existence.

- he comes back though, because even murderers have to eat, right? he just keeps coming back to your house frequently until he’s practically living with you.

- i feel like one day you would probably see him on the news while looking for something to watch and be like oh my god my new roommate is a killer? well . . . he hasn’t hurt me so it’s whatever i guess . . . wait! that’s why he never pays rent?

- once you guys cross the line from roommates to a couple, he will honestly be a little concerned for your well-being, like how does someone as oblivious as you even make it through the day?

- don’t worry though, michael will absolutely stalk you to check in on you and will murder anyone who does anything to you :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

BO SINCLAIR

- to be honest, this mf is gonna sexualize you immediately. He’s turning his charm levels all the way to 11 and trying to win you over in his own manipulative and slightly hot way though.

- he definitely gets annoyed by you being clumsy, but he uses that as an opportunity to 100% be a pervert by letting his hands wander or just straight up staring down at your tits or ass.

- trust me, as soon as this man is in your vicinity he is rock hard because he literally has the dirtiest mind ever and has absolutely no chill. ( this makes the sex 1000% better though )

- he for sure has nude polaroids of you in his wallet, like imagine gifting them to him sealed with a bright lipstick stain on the back and a cutely drawn heart. he also jacks off to these in the back of his shop because he has no shame when it comes to you as i said earlier.

- he probably wouldn’t worry much about you leaving due to you being oblivious to the situation you’re in but he would definitely be more protective of you because of this when you get to know each other more.

- like if any tourist tries to do or say anything to you that he doesn’t like? he’s gonna try and keep his act together with clenched teeth and a strained smile before killing them off himself instead of sending them to vincent or something.

- definitely makes fun of you for being a naive klutz though. like he will manipulate you to the max to get you to comply for him, he’ll say things like “just please do it for me, okay sugar?” and have you wrapped right around his finger.

- the same kinda goes the other way, just to an extent. after a while of you laying some sweet loving on him he’ll definitely be asking lester to pick you up some pretty lipsticks and anything that he thinks you’ll find cute.

- over all, you’re bo’s walking wet dream and he literally can not get over you especially after you guys get in a relationship and to you he’s just your silly little mechanic boyfriend who lives in a weirdly empty town.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

LESTER SINCLAIR

- lives for the aesthetic and finds you so pretty but is a total pervert and he, like bo, uses your naivety to his advantage

- he gives panty stealer vibes to me, like i know he probably acts all innocent and puppy eyed around you but as soon as you look away for one second he’s going into your room and stealing your panties you know? (he still does it while you’re in a relationship too, because this man can not be stopped)

- say you work at a cute little diner he likes to frequent (because of you) he will go there every other day and butter you up only to leave the parking lot of the diner and jerk off into his hand on the side of some abandoned road . . .

- he will find a way to be with you whether it be literally stealing you away or finding you on the side of the road after your cars broken down and convincing you to stay with him. and with the second option being more likely (he will mess with your car and plan out the whole thing) you won’t even realize he’s got you tied in with him forever

- you’ll just think lester is the sweet southern man from the diner who’s turned into your boyfriend who takes care of you and let you move into his place really quickly

- He absolutely has a corruption kink, like he loves the idea of being with someone so perfect and just absolutely ruining them. he also definitely has you christen his truck for “good luck” by fucking you in there until you’re a sticky sobbing mess.

- but on the softer side of things, i know lester is so greatful for you and can’t believe that someone as sweet and pretty as you could love him. especially as someone who wasn’t loved properly as a child :(

- and he’s so protective over you too because he knows how mean the world can be and he doesn’t want anyone else to hurt you. so he’s definitely extra careful when he has you in the car and is picking up tourists. it’s low key funny because he’s over here worried they’re gonna say something mean to you and not that you’re gonna find out what he’s luring them into. if they do something though, he makes sure to tell his brothers to make their death slow and painful :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

VINCENT SINCLAIR

- he absolutely adores you, like he loves having a silly lil naive pink loving partner.

- anytime you’re having one of your airhead moments he will calmly explain to you in more detail until you understand what he’s talking about :(

- he loves drawing you, he does it so much it’s to the point where his pink colored pencils are getting shorter and are always dull from use. he hangs the drawings up all over his walls and stuff too, which literally has you leaving kisses all over him and drowning him in compliments (he gets very flustered)

- tries to keep you away from the fact he turns people into wax statues, but is glad that you don’t even seem to notice! imagine you complimenting him on how life like they look and he’s like :-|

- probably very protective over you, especially if you come into contact with bo . . . who has no shame in flirting with you but you’re just like no thanks i have a perfectly awesome and cool boyfriend :) (bo’s ego was very hurt that day)

- this immediately has him rolling all over the house and happily dancing because he loves you so much and you’re all his

- just because he feels like this doesn’t also mean he’s not a perv like the rest of them though (you thought you were safe muahaha) he probably has so many nude drawings of you, mans absolutely gets every detail in them too

- he hides them from you at first but if you find them . . . oh my lord he’s gonna be so embarrassed . . . and hard. seeing him depict you so beautifully, probably splayed out on pink sheets too, immediately has you on your knees for him.

- i don’t care i would suck this man dry to show my appreciation, like until he has tears in his eyes and he’s just uncontrollably bucking his hips into your mouth

- basically he loves you in pink and is your #1 supporter!!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

STU MACHER

- absolutely whipped for you and you have him following you around with heart eyes all over campus

- doesn’t tell you about his side hobby of killing people, because he honestly doesn’t feel the need too since you believe him anytime he says the red staining his shoes is paint.

- absolutely gives you the princess treatment since he has all that money from his rich parents, so he buys you new clothes, gives you mail money, money to get your hair done, ect, ect.

- but he also does it with his actions you know? like he absolutely opens the door for you with a dramatic bow and says something like “after you, m’lady”

- he’s the type of guy that will go out of his way to look up your skirt to fluster you though

- he’s still a pervert but he’s more jokey about it, for example, he makes all sorts of dirty jokes and giggles like a maniac when you don’t understand them. when you do though, you’ve got him down on his knees for you, if you respond back by flirting, just know he’s taking you off to some bathroom and absolutely fucking you dumb and when you’re done he’s flipping your skirt back down and leaving the bathroom with a spring in his step.

- basically you’re just his sweet lil bimbo partner who he spoils endlessly in kisses n’ nice stuff who thankfully never notices the blood staining random items in his apartment :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!

Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)

thank you for requesting, anon!

reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo

there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag

this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

my slashers-only blog can be found here!

billy lenz

billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)

but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur

it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors

how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down

how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless

the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for

all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner

you were his dream-girl through-and-through

his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes

his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments

of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely

and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times

bo sinclair

although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame

it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that

tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in

god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group

but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)

his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation

and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before

in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home

but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)

brahms heelshire

you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny

you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up

you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family

but, to brahms, you were perfect

the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule

and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go

his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies

loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”

is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you

like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his

and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head

and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him

carrie white

carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl

everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed

god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness

tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to

those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)

those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes

those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above

and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you

how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass

how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole

you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible

jennifer check

you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well

date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup

she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on

she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”

will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv

gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though

50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice

loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner

buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times

she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken

makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to

michael myers (any)

initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else

you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you

and he did. for well over a month

even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up

but you never did

even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way

you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable

and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally

after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you

at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy

he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is

he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there

and you oblige

and he doesn’t hurt you

the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal

thomas hewitt

everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess

you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense

your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change

those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools

your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest

but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you

your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you

he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil

and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier

so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house

vincent sinclair

you immediately caught vincent’s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions

your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards

definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw

more artistically inspiring, barbie like even

it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently

but then your personality endeared you to him

you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart

hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)

and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum

even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks

you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto

all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose

it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company

and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to

so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum

and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)

Dear, writter

May i've a request for Thomas hewitt, Bubba Sawyer,bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, and Vince Sinclair, With a hot wife fem reader, I want to see their life being a father to a hot fem reader. Because that is my dream. 💫Fluff💫

Please.... Your writing is so gorgeous 💋💋 master 🌹🌹🌹

Thank you so much

From your followers:

@kawaistrawberry21

awww i'm glad you like my writing!! hopefully you enjoy this :D

SLASHERS with a F! S/O who is their hot wife

THOMAS HEWITT

Everyone in town was shocked when you and Thomas got married

Thomas included but he never said anything about it

His family thought you were way out of his league, Hoyt was never afraid to comment on this to your face

But you love Thomas, he was a good man

So when he'd finally, finally, proposed to you, of course you'd said yes

When he found out you were having his child? He was over the moon

Luda May was almost as overjoyed, already making arrangements for the baby's room, making clothes, etc

She couldn't wait to be a grandmother and Thomas couldn't wait to be a father

When the baby's due date was getting closer, you could tell Thomas was nervous about if the baby would come out looking like him

But you reassured him that, no matter what your baby looked like, you would love it the same way you loved him

He was good with the baby, so gentle and patient, always happy to help when it cried

If Hoyt ever tried to give either of you a hard time, Thomas actually violently defended you, sometimes tossing Hoyt across the room with one arm

He'd never let anything hurt you or your baby

BUBBA SAWYER

Like Thomas, everyone was surprised when you and Bubba got married

Though his family were far more excited about it! After all, their brother was quite the catch

You got along well with his family even before you moved in, with Chop Top and Nubbins always commenting to Bubba how lucky he was to have such a hot wife

It always made your husband get all flustered, babbling soft nonsense. He was cute

When you got pregnant, Bubba and the Sawyer family were over the moon

Family was extremely important to them and they were happy for you and Bubba

When Nubbins made a very ugly little hat for the baby, you accepted it but told him gently it'd be too big for their head but that you'd grow into it. He was excited about that prospect

Chop Top and Drayton helped Bubba set up the nursery so you could just relax

And when the baby was born, Bubba was so scared of holding something so fragile and precious

But you helped him, guiding his arms to hold the baby, and he was in shock and awe

He'd never thought he'd get married, much less to someone as gorgeous as you, and have a child together

Bubba was a nervous father, usually letting your kid get away with anything so you had to be the rule-setter when it came to the kid

His brothers were menaces when it came to babysitting their niece or nephew

But both you and Bubba were happy. He'd protect you both, no matter what

BO SINCLAIR

Honestly? This was a major win in Bo's mind

If you think he doesn't show off for you, you're wrong. That man takes every opportunity to

He also definitely flexed to his brothers about scoring the hottest wife ever

Of course, his brothers were very nice and respectful with you, though Bo wouldn't let them be too friendly

He's got a jealousy streak

Whenever visitors arrive to Ambrose, he's always got his arm around you or bragging about you when you're not around

He's whipped, you've got him wrapped around your finger

But when you tell him your pregnant, you're shocked at how scared he becomes

Of course, he doesn't show it visibly, but you know your husband and you can tell when he's nervous about something

Eventually, when he starts trying to pull away from you, you corner him and make him talk

Some yelling and fighting ensues but he caves, confessing he's scared he wouldn't be a good father. I mean, he didn't exactly have the best role model and he didn't want you or your babies to suffer for it

But you reminded him you were in this together and he'd relax a little

You had twins, because of course you did, but this only seemed to make Bo all the more anxious

He didn't exactly... know what to do with a baby? He'd never really been around infants so he's looking to you for help on this one

When they're a bit older though, he'll let them hang out in the auto shop with him when he works

One day you come home to find him asleep on the couch with the twins curled up on his chest and you just melt

He's a good dad and a good husband

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Vincent was shocked you'd said yes when he proposed

He didn't consider himself attractive in the slightest but you said yes?!

I mean, you were stunning, he'd stared at you constantly even when you were dating and it certainly didn't stop when you were married

Bo and Lester were definitely jealous, teasing him to see him get flustered over how lucky he was

Unlike Bo, when he found out you were pregnant, he was excited

Nervous, absolutely, but everyone is nervous when they're having their first kid

He's so wary for you though, nearly had you on bedrest the entire pregnancy because he feared the worst

One time he caught you standing on a chair to reach something and he nearly had a conniption

But the twins came - because of course they were twins - and were healthy and beautiful

Vincent is so gentle with them, like they're the most precious things in the world to them

He makes little wax sculptures for their room to decorate it

Definitely encourages and supports creative hobbies for the kids! He gets them finger paints and crayons and the like

You've woken up in the night because of the babies crying but Vincent is already up, ready to help

Vincent's mastered carrying them both with an arm each and its very cute

Sometimes you catch him holding one of the twins and humming softly to them as they sleep in his arms, just swaying together in the kitchen

You feel so lucky but he feels even luckier to have you and your kids

LESTER SINCLAIR

Lester is by far the most... stable? So you'd been instantly drawn to that about him

He'd always get so flustered, bringing you flowers and blushing like a madman while you were dating

It took him the longest to propose to you though, he always felt like you were waaaay out of his league

Visitors came and would gawk at you and he'd feel a twinge of jealousy at the reminder that yeah, you could have anyone

But he did propose to you and you said yes because you wanted him, not anyone else

Neither of you had any shame in PDA, often holding hands or kissing in front of visitors

You lived with Lester and Jonesy in a little house on the outskirts of the town, surrounded by trees and very peaceful compared to the horrors of Ambrose

It had actually been Lester who suggested having a kid or two running around. After all, he had two older brothers so he was used to that business in a house with lots of people living in it

Over time, the two of you would have two kids, but they weren't twins

Lester was a good dad too! He was attentive and loving but he didn't let them get away with too much

He'd teach them how to shoot when they were a bit older because it was a fond memory he had with his own dad

Of course, Lester didn't have the best dad to draw comparison to

But at least he knew what not to do. Surely that counted for something?

You'd come home from working a short shift to find Lester and the kids playing in the backyard, running about with Jonesy as they played soccer

Both you and Lester would do anything for your kids and you knew he'd do anything for you

Headcanons for Vincent, Thomas, Brahms, Michael Myers with an s/o who is really good at riding them, like riding them to oblivion till they can’t think right

Vincent Sinclair

Loves when his darling is on top, he gets to watch his beautiful work of art use him like a toy.

His hands grip their hips, and he rolls his own in rhythm with their movements.

Dark hair sticks to his forehead with sweat, his mouth hangs open. His mask was discarded long ago, he looks immaculate in the low light of his workshop.

His breathing is heavy and his moans are strangled. He's trying to keep quiet so he can hear his lover, their groans and sighs.

Vincent loves the way they feel when they bounce on his cock, he thinks he's died and gone to heaven.

Brahms Heelshire

He's such a sub it's not even funny. He begged his lover to make him feel good before bed and they happily obliged.

He doesn't regret asking for this, but he knows he's gonna get fucked stupid.

They're bouncing on his cock, tight little hole squeezing around him deliciously.

Brahms moans loudly, and his hands wander their body. Groping and grabbing the soft skin. He begs for more, tears forming in his eyes.

His beloved smirks down at him, his mind melting the more they rock their hips. He doesn't want it to stop, yet at the same time he needs to cum.

Thomas Hewitt

He's very much a giver. Whatever his lover wants they will get.

He protested being laid on his back only because he wants to make sure his beloved is getting as much pleasure as he is.

Tommy is convinced that they're enjoying themselves as well when he sees the way they look down at him.

Their hips rolling, their tight hole squeezing his fat cock just right. His mask was discarded, and he was flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears.

Low grunts rumbled in his chest, his cock throbbed as his darling bounced. They looked like a work of art above him.

Michael Myers

Selfish. That's the best word to describe him in bed. When his beloved climbed over him he remained completely still.

If they wanted to fuck themselves on his cock, they can have at it. He's tired, he won't help, not unless they cum before he does.

His nonchalant attitude melts away within minutes, his lover bounced along his shaft. The tip of his cock hit something delicious inside them and he nearly lost it.

Heavy pants emanated from behind his mask. He was losing himself, watching as they use him like a fuck toy. Their tight hole milking him for all he's worth.

hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!

Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)

thank you for requesting, anon!

reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo

there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag

this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

billy lenz

billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)

but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur

it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors

how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down

how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless

the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for

all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner

you were his dream-girl through-and-through

his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes

his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments

of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely

and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times

bo sinclair

although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame

it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that

tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in

god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group

but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)

his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation

and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before

in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home

but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)

brahms heelshire

you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny

you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up

you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family

but, to brahms, you were perfect

the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule

and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go

his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies

loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”

is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you

like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his

and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head

and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him

carrie white

carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl

everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed

god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness

tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to

those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)

those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes

those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above

and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you

how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass

how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole

you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible

jennifer check

you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well

date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup

she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on

she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”

will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv

gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though

50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice

loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner

buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times

she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken

makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to

michael myers (any)

initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else

you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you

and he did. for well over a month

even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up

but you never did

even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way

you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable

and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally

after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you

at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy

he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is

he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there

and you oblige

and he doesn’t hurt you

the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal

thomas hewitt

everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess

you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense

your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change

those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools

your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest

but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you

your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you

he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil

and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier

so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house

vincent sinclair

you immediately caught vincent’s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions

your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards

definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw

more artistically inspiring, barbie like even

it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently

but then your personality endeared you to him

you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart

hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)

and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum

even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks

you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto

all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose

it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company

and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to

so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum

and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)

Slashers x Pregnant! Reader

✨ reader almost gets hurt by a victim/victim uses reader as leverage — requested by anon ✨

includes: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, and Poly! Ghostface

warnings: mentions or possible descriptions of (slight!) violence, cursing

a/n: i might use some manga as lil cover pictures when writing multiple slashers/idk what picture to use idk i think they’re cute teehee😅🤭 anyways, sorry for the wait—i hope you all enjoy! readers pronouns are gender neutral💜💜

💜Bo Sinclair

You just finished doing the dishes, when you heard a knock at the door. Unsure it was one of the boys, you scooted from your comfy couch spot and opened the door.

To your surprise, it was not one of the boys—and much to the unexpected visitor's surprise, someone opened the damned door.

“Please, you have to help me.” The man begged in front of you, big sloppy tears pouring from his eyes.

You paused and looked at the male in front of you before raising a brow. You knew what was up, but you never had to deal with the victims before, especially now that you’re over a month pregnant—Bo really doesn’t want you talking or handling them.

“They’re going to get me,” He choke and sobbed, “I need your help.”

Unsure of what to do, you stood there for a few seconds longer, thinking of what the safest option was, but also one that wouldn’t put the boys in danger.

Over the surprise visitor's shoulder, you could see Bo approaching, and he was just a few buildings away—while staring at Bo, and trying to decide your option, the visitor turned around to catch what you were looking at and met Bo’s now rage-filled demeanor.

Quickly, he shoved you to the floor, hopping over you; only stepping on your arm. The minute Bo reached you, he gently helped you up and cupped your cheek. He then pressed a small kiss to your nose and asked you to go to your guy’s shared bedroom.

You could hear each sloshing stabbing sound and the man’s blood-curdling screams almost all night before Bo accompanied you in bed.

🩷Vincent Sinclair

You happily made your way towards the Wax Museum, a plate of food in your hand for your beloved since you know Vincent most likely hasn’t eaten yet.

Once you got to the entrance of the museum, much to your startle, the door was already open. And to make matters worse, you hear two voices giggling.

You stood still beside the entrance, your free hand holding where your womb is, pausing to think of your best option for safety for you and the growing baby. Vincent must've known of their presence, so it's only a matter of time now. Once their whispering died down, you snuck inside the building, peeking around each corner and listening to make sure nobody could see or hear you. You turned a corner too quick in your need to get to Vincent, that you bumped your hip on a nearby table, almost causing you to drop your plate. "Shit," You silently muttered, panicking slightly from your slight bump. "What was that?" A man asked just faint enough for you to hear, causing your panic to rise more. "Maybe it's the dog from earlier?" A woman responded questioningly. As if on cue, Vincent sneaks around the corner and places a comforting hand on your shoulder, while also signaling you to shush before pointing in the direction of where the intruders. He quickly puts his hand over his mask's mouth, then presses it softly to where your baby bump's growing like a little kiss. And from there, he went to take care of the two.

💜Lester Sinclair

You were riding in the truck with Lester, as he went to run errands when a stranger waved you guys down alongside the road.

“Hey! Hi—sorry to bother you guys,” The stranger stumbled nervously, “Something happened and we really need to get to our friends, would one of us be able to catch a ride to the nearest town?”

You and Lester exchanged unsure glances, but Lester agreed nonetheless. You scooted to the middle seat closer Lester, giving him one last worried glance before patting the seat for the stranger.

The three of you rode in an uncomfortable silence, occasionally making some small talk about the small town of Ambrose, and how the two of you like it.

“Ain’t too bad,” Lester spoke up, “Pretty quiet. Everyone minds their own business for the most part.”

The strangers phone started to ring, and they quickly apologized and answered, stiffening in statue after what seemed 10 seconds. They nervously side eyed Lester and you a few times, while giving verbal acknowledgments over the phone.

“Excuse me—can you stop the car?” They asked, feigning a polite exterior, their jaw quivering and the right hand upon the door handle shook nervously.

“Mhm,” Lester slowed to a stop, but before the old beat up truck could even get to a halt, the stranger opened the door, and grabbed you, pulling the both of you out of the car, leaving only Lester in the drivers seat.

“Stay back, freak! Or—or else!” The stranger shoved you to the ground, then pointing a finger to Lester, to prove a point to him that they’re not above violence.

You tried to crawl away, but the stranger had other plans.

“Get back here, bitch,” The strangers focus was too engrossed into you, they didn’t notice Lester hop out of the truck, “I heard what you did to my friends!”

The stranger went to reach for you, but was stopped by Lester pulling them back and punching perpetrator in the throat.

“Hell is wrong with you hitting a pregnant person,” Lester’s punches did not ease up until the strangers face looked like a bloody pulp.

Once he finished, he walked over to where you stood yourself up, and pulled you in for a hug, and pressed a kiss to your forehead and knelt down to press a kiss to your tummy.

“Y’okay, sugar?” He grasped your hand, and walked you to the truck and helped you sit down comfortably.

🩷Thomas Hewitt

You and Luda sat in the kitchen knitting things for the baby that’s on the way.

“Y/N, would you be a dear and check on the pie?” Luda politely inquired.

“Of course!” You opened the oven to check, but the pie wasn’t fully done, so you reset the timer for about 5 minutes.

You took your seat back, and continued knitting your baby blanket. Luda stood up, and started cleaning the counters and washing the dishes used to make the cherry pie.

Faint scrambling and screaming could be heard coming from the basement, but you just turned on the small radio and continuing knitting zigzags into the blankets design.

Until someone managed to scramble their way to the first floor, scrambling through the living room, and then the kitchen.

“You two! Hey! You have to help me!” The man pleaded, “He’s trying to kill me down there!”

The man pointed down in the basement, and Luda looked at him unimpressed. She was sneaking her way to find something to hit the person with without being detected, but the man grabbed onto your hand and tried pulling you with him.

“Please! You have to listen to me; he’s going to kill me—then he’s going to kill you too!” He sobbed, ripping you from your chair at the small table.

“I—” You didn’t get a chance to respond or call for help before the man pulled you outside and down the wooden steps.

“Tommy!” You hear Luda Mae call out, “They’re trying to take Y/N!”

About two minutes later, Thomas ran through the door, his chainsaw rumbling with a seething rage. Within a minute, your captor was mowed down by Thomas, who then dropped the (now off) chainsaw, and spun you in the air with his embrace, pressing his forehead to yours.

That night, Thomas made you a warm bath and you enjoyed a cool cup of sweet tea while you got to munch on the pie you and Luda made from earlier.

💜Brahms Heelshire

It was a cool Sunday afternoon, and you were waiting for Malcolm to bring groceries to the house for you and Brahms—who was hiding upstairs, waiting for your okay to come out.

You sat in the living room, sipping on your favorite hot beverage while rereading a book you started, but haven’t finished.

Faint knocking could be heard from the front door, so you placed your book and drink down, and peeled through the door.

Malcom finally arrived; which means Brahms can come out soon!

“Afternoon, Malcolm!” You gave a small smile with your greeting, which dropped when you saw the man who delivers Brahms and your groceries arrived empty handed.

“Malcolm wh—” You were cut off by his quick ramblings.

“Y/N, you have to get out of here,” He quickly blurted out, “Brahms is alive; he-he’s been living in the walls!”

Mentally, you rolled your eyes. You knew this, obviously—he is your partner after all.

“What do you mean?” You faked concern, even though you had a feeling you knew how this would end.

The grocery boy would enter, prohibited to leave; his fate sealed past the front door.

“Brahms—I SAW him, Y/N.” He huffed, pacing in a nervous circle.

“I think you’re just seeing things, Malcolm. I live here, don’t you think I’d know if he’s here? Wouldn’t I have seen or heard him?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow, trying your best to gaslight him into leaving you and Brahms alone.

He grasped your hand, “If you refuse to believe it, I have no choice. We’re getting out of here and somewhere safe.”

Little did he know, Brahms was watching the whole interaction. And boy is he pissed.

He snuck out through one of the walls, and approached Malcolm from behind.

“Y/N,” He whined, walking towards where Malcom had a grip on your wrist, “Don’t go.”

“Get him Brahms!” You cried, ripping your arm away from Malcolm and backing away.

Brahms quickly gripped Malcolm’s neck, squeezing so hard his poor face turned a blueish purple from the lack of oxygen due to Brahms’ rage.

As soon as Malcom’s body felt limp, Brahms ran towards your slightly nervous form, nuzzling his masked face into your neck, whimpering softly while rubbing your belly.

🩷Poly! Ghostface

You laid sprawled out upon the bed that the three of you shared, watching nostalgic horror movies. Your phone wasn’t too far from your reach due to the boys needing a ride later.

As if on cue, said device started ringing with Stu’s ringtone.

“Hey, babe!” You perked up, “You need me to come scoop you guys up?”

“Mhm-ow!” The sound of slapping could be heard on your end, and Stu groaned over the phone.

“Hi cutie,” Billy snatched the phone from Stu, “Seems nobody’s here. Can you come get us now?”

“Absolutely!” You beamed before hanging up, running to your car, and starting it.

Once you got to the location they sent you, you pulled into the driveway, turned your lights off, and parked the car.

With few lights lit in the house, you could only make out one figure running around in the dark rather than two. Nonetheless, you brushed it off due to how dim the house was, and you turned your music back up, rubbing your hand over the slight bump.

The figure snuck out of the house, and knocked on the window of the car.

“Are you their ride, bitch?” She sneered, “I overheard those fuck-faces on the phone talking about a ride.”

You tried to lock the doors, which you left unlocked for the boys, but the assailant was faster to open the door. She tried to rip you out of the car as you covered yourself up for defense, both not realizing the seatbelt was on.

“Billy!” You screamed out, “Stu, help please!”

The stranger retracted their fist to hit you, but was pulled back by Billy’s grip, before he plunged a knife into her. She glared at you as she tried to hit Stu who blocked her path, gladly taking a turn stabbing her in the ribs.

They dropped her, and both huddled around you, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheek while their hands hold your baby bump.

Slashers: *puts Y/N in an escape room to test their skills*

Y/n: *happily kissing the security camera when they notice it*

Slasher: *smiling the talks over the speaker* baby you have to try and escape….

Y/n: but it’s so cozy in here

Slasher: *sighs and goes to get their partner*

Y/n: people flirt all the time!

Slasher: yeah I know.

Y/n: so that means! I-

Slasher: nope! Not you I own your ass!

Y/n: *looks around and at their hands*

Slasher: what are you looking for?

Y/n: my god damn wedding ring that says I’m yours!