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baby-fics · 2 years

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Safe Baby

Bo Sinclair x little!reader- angst/comfort

Bo frightens his little and has to show them that Daddy Bowie isn't scary at all!

(Heavy TW for this one: Violence, murder, really scary Bo and a terrified reader, panic attacks. Lots of comfort though)

You knew what the brothers did, after a long while of exposure and normalization on their part led to it becoming less... Uncomfortable. Over time you accepted their role in what they did for the town (you kind of have to if you're joining their family.).

Still that didn't stop it from scaring you when you were small, which is why you were not allowed down there unless one of the boys knew that it was baby-proofed.

On one occasion there had been a mishap with a potential wax figure. You were feeling small that day so Bo told you to hide in his room while the brothers dealt with their runaway "craft supplies".

This did not go well.

As you hid you heard movement throughout the house coming up towards your door. The footsteps sounded like Daddy Bowie's boots so it made you in your tiny brain think that the coast was clear.

A shimmy of the handle came from the other side of the door and you opened it thinking it was Bowie; not even thinking about how this figure on the other side of the door hadn't said anything to let you know that the danger had passed.

Opening the door you and the "tourist" froze for a moment before he barged in, grabbed you by the arm, and held your mouth shut. He turned to face you to the doorway as you heard a flurry of footsteps coming towards the both of you.

Bo knew the moment their "visitor" set foot into his home, you were in danger and his heart sank when he rounded the corner to see the bedroom door open.

All Bo could do was beg inside of the comforts of his own mind as his legs carried him step by step to the doorway, Bo knew what he was going to see though.

You looked terrified, shaking violently and like your knees were going to give out; and if Bo could hear anything other than the blood pounding behind his ears, he might just be able to hear the intruder's pathetic attempts at negotiation.

Bo saw red, not even thinking and allowing pure instinct to propel him forward. Rushing toward his victim, you were ripped from his grasp and you fell to the ground with a thud.

Rage poured through every vein in his body, wanting nothing more than this man who attacked his baby gone. Eventually smashing the man's face into the wall so many times that any future attempt to make him a wax figure would fail miserably.

This visual for you in your regressed state was traumatizing, blood and viscera came from the man and you saw a look of pure, murderous, rage on Bo's face. It was a look on your caregiver that you were unfamiliar with, and it unsettled you.

The look of the horrors before you shook you to your core and a frantic instinct to hide. The closest "SafeZone" in your vicinity being the big bed that you and Bo shared had you diving under and crawling to the farthest corner before Bo could drop the nuisance.

Covering your eyes and ears you tried to make this whole experience go away. You were sobbing, hyperventilating, and you began to feel lightheaded. The adrenaline spiking in your system left your brain buzzing like you couldn't ground yourself to a single thought.

When the rage dissipated for Bo and the threat was addressed, he was satisfied with the end result even if Vincent probably wouldn't be. His mind immediately drifted to the cause of his rampage and turned to see that you were nowhere to be found, but muffled sobs could be heard from under the mattress. God your cries sounded so small too...

Kneeling down as slowly as his joints would allow, he peeked to see you cured up into the tightest ball you could muster, shaking like a leaf.

He brought his hand towards you to try and bring you comfort but it seemed as if your fear drive was going haywire, shrieking in fear and scrambling to press yourself as close to the wall as possible.

This broke Bo's heart, it didn't hit him until now how genuinely scary he must have appeared, even if he was only trying to protect you.

Sitting up he frantically wracked his brain trying to think of ways to reassure you.

First things first, comfort. He grabs your favorite stuffie, a blankie, and your paci. Praying for you to use the latter to help stop you from hyperventilating or biting your tongue too hard...

Placing them within your reach, he watched you tenuously grabbed your stuffie and gripped it tight. Then you grabbed your paci, eying your caregiver from behind your friend, and plopping it into your mouth; immediately forcing you to breathe through your nose which greatly slowed them down.

Bo smiled at this, it told him that you knew he wasn't trying to hurt you. He desperately needs you to know that, he's your Daddy! You shouldn't be afraid of him! Little's shouldn't be afraid of their daddies, ever. Point blank period.

Now that he did know, it meant he could start to reassure you in a way you could feasibly hear.

Bending down even further so you two were at eye level, he reached a hand out for you to take at your leisure before he spoke to you in a gentle tone, "I'm real sorry that you had to see that sweetheart.. must've scared you real bad, Daddy must have looked very mad huh..."

At this you nodded and began to inch your fingers forward little by little toward his open palm and Bo took this as an indication that what he was doing was working.

"It scared me so much to see that mean man had you honey... Daddy got really panicked and accidentally hurt his baby.. but you know I wouldn't hurt you, not for nothin'. Daddy Bowies' only scary like that when you need protectin', you got that Darlin?"

You're little hand finally grabbed his index and middle finger and you nodded looking out to him. You began to test the waters in coming into the open space by bringing your body forward bit by bit.

Inside Bo Sinclair was screaming in relief. That it wasn't actually Bo himself that scared you, moreso the situation as a whole. He can't have you afraid of him, no, not your Bowie! The very thought of that makes him want to vomit.

The fact that you were inching forward to come join him, and hopefully receive some of his hugs made him back up while keeping the awkward, bent, position of your hand around his finger.

Right before you came out your quiet little voice asked, "Pinkie pwomise no more scawy..?", Wrapping his pinkie around yours he smiled and said, "I promise Baby, nothin's gonna scare you alright?"

You crawled out onto his lap and he guided you with the pinky linked to yours, surrounding you in a gentle bear hug. Rocking you back and forth and petting your head and kissing your temple as if he was afraid you'd vanish into thin air if he stopped.

Wanting to get you out of this room in case you happened to see or smell the uncleaned crime scene, Bo scooped you up and took you downstairs where he sat you on his lap on the couch and held you, making sure you were fully intact and weren't going to dissolve once he put you down.

You looked up at your Daddy, knowing that your fear had triggered something in him that would send him into a very bad spot if you didn't do anything, and that would make Daddy Bowie sad! You don't want your daddy Bowie to be sad! Not when he protected you and made you feel safe, even if he was a bit scary- the stranger was scarier!

You tugged on his shirt to get his attention and told him, "Chu not scawy Bowie, stranger was... What Daddy did was scawy though.. but chu is safe, I know chu never hurt me.. Dada pwotec me!". Your arms wrapped around him and you nuzzled into his chest.

Bo held you closer to him as he tried to stop a tear from falling down his cheek, that was the first time you were comfortable enough to call him Daddy and even after being so afraid your sweet little heart wanted to make sure Bowie was okay too.

Oh angel, you're the most precious thing he's got. There's no way any harm will come to you, not a hair on your head.

(Sorry if Bo is a bit out of character here, and I did my best to keep gnarly stuff light! Sorry this fic is so long lol! Thanks for reading!)

#dang this is longer than I thought it was going to be #little!reader #agere caregiver #hurt/comfort #angst #agere reader #bo sinclair x little! reader #bo sinclair x reader #agere slasher

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phntmeii · 8 months

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NSFW ALPHABET: Bo Sinclair

[ NSFW + No Gendered Terms]

Word Count: 1.4K+ Words

NSFW Warnings: Explicit NSFW, Pure Smut Headcanons, Rough and Aggresive Sex, Teasing/Cocky!Bo Sinclair, Mention of Different Kinks

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Bo takes a bit of time to recover from sex because he’s aggressive in it. He’s panting and sweating. Once he comes down, he wipes himself down then his SO down. He’ll them simply toss it aside and flop back on top of his SO, needing to feel their body again. He just wants to hold them, murmuring about how good it was.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Bo’s favorite body part on himself is his cock. I don’t think I have to explain but he has an ego for a reason and his cock is that. His favorite part of his SO's body are their lips. I mean, he cannot pull his eyes away from them in conversation when they’re talking.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Bo likes when his cum is pretty much anywhere on his SO. Their back, stomach, face, in your mouth or inside of them. He just needs it on or in them to feel truly satisfied. I will say his favorite though is in their mouth. Seeing it on their tongue is enough for him to want another round already.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You might not want to pick up the porn mags or Playboy mags in his room. He has more than a couple in there tucked into his drawers. Let’s just say some pages are stuck together.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Bo has had a good amount of experience. He’s a charmer, it’s not difficult to find people to fuck. In more recent years, it’s gotten rarer simply because he immediately thinks of people as targets rather than a sexual interest.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Bo enjoys cowgirl as it gives him easy access to everything while being able to degrade his SO to their face. He grips their thighs tight while slamming them down onto himself along with his degrading words.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Bo is a tease so he’s often laughing at his teasing/degradation targeted at his SO. He keeps his aggressive nature along with his focus on getting to finish but he’s laughing at them the whole time.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Happy trail that goes down to a bit of dark hair that he keeps trimmed. It’s not too much or too long but he considers it a hassle to remove all of it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Bo can be slower and gentle if sex is following a romantic event or day but ultimately, he will lose himself and get rough and run on pure lust until he gets off.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Bo is in a house, shared by his two brothers that he cares for along with taking charge of leading victims and running his shop. He gets pretty heated and stressed so when he gets to jack off, it’s such a relief. He’s unapologetically loud in his grunting and growling.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Just a list of some: Slight Daddy Kink, Degradation/Praise, Exhibitionism, Dumbification, Begging, Light Choking, Dacryphilia, Spanking, Breath Play, Edging, Overstimulation

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bo likes to have it be convenient so it’s where he’s at most: In the shop’s garage especially since no one is really there besides him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Bo is practically clawing at his pants at any moment because he has a high sex drive. But anything related to his SO has him ready to tear their clothing off with one word. Specific things include: Tight Clothing, Tears/Runny Makeup, Lingerie, Getting/Receiving Hickeys

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Bo would not be a fan of bondage on himself in any way and he'd be hesitant to do tight bondage on his SO. He would constantly check in to make sure that it's on right but not too tight. But on himself, it would bring back too many harsh memories and would immediately refuse.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Bo prefers to receive since his SO looks all too pretty on their knees for him. He gets all excited and will end up thrusting into their mouth while holding their head just to hear them gag. He will give as well and is such a tease with it. His eyes stay on them to watch their reactions and once it seems like they're about to finish, he pulls away and has a smug grin.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and hard for his own satisfaction. It's only slow and romantic for special occasions or in the early mornings.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Bo is an absolute slut for quickies. The thought of having to rush to not get caught or just the simple pent-up aggression he's been holding onto all day poured out into one moment gets him off easily. This can be several times a week(3-4 days of the week) and sometimes 1-2x a day if he's got the energy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

It's all about risk for Bo. He's an exhibitionist and loves to fuck by a window or something when victims come through Ambrose. It's a claiming thing as well as just a general brag.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Bo is kinda selfish so he doesn't really care to get his SO any more than one or two times. He gets them off first teasing slow then goes rough as fuck until he cums. He's impatient so it's not like he's going at a slow rate for very long. Lasts around 15 minutes of pure pounding into you until you’re sore.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Bo isn't a fan of toys and doesn't use them. He's considered getting a pocket pussy before but changed his mind about it. He thinks his hand does the job well enough. Unless his SO already comes out with toys or buys them themselves, he isn't one to keep 'em around.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

I've mentioned it a few times already but he doesn't have that shit-eating grin for no reason. He's a tease. And he loves it. Seeing his SO beg and plead just to be fucked already is like music to his ears. His eyes watch their body jolt and grind against his hand or tongue just to be met with Bo backing away. "Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Dirty slut. But it ain't yer time yet, honey. Don't worry... You'll get fucked right soon."

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunts and growls unapologetically loud but not loud enough to be heard over his SO's sounds. After all, those sounds are prettiest to him. His goal is for his SO to be heard through the entirety of Ambrose.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Bo is the type to love jealous/hate sex. If someone coming through Ambrose decides to flirt with his SO or looks at them a certain way, Bo likes to lead them into a trapped area where the victim could see and/or hear them getting fucked just to show off.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Bo is just under 8 inches (not by a lot; around 7.8in) with an average thickness to it. Slightly curved to the left. Definitely a shower and it's obvious.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Bo gets off every day if he can. It feels too fucking good not to. But sex is constantly on the mind for Bo whether he even has cum left in his balls or not.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Bo is the type to just instantly knock out. It's KO for him the moment him and his SO are cleaned up. The same minute his head is on the pillow is the same minute there's loud snoring.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#bo sinclair my beloved obsession #unironically has rotted my brain after watching his silly little movie #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair headcanons #bo sinclair x you #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher fucker #slasher community #slasher headcanons

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littlespace-imagines · 11 months

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🩸Slashers Masterlist🩸

Michael

Little!Michael being fussy

Little!Michael having a bad day

Little!Michael HCs

Little!Michael helping stressed CG

CG!Michael kidnapping his little

CG!Rz!Michael helping reader with impure regression

Cg!Michael Myers stalking little reader

Mommy!reader spoiling little!Michael on Halloween

Jason

Cg!Jason x Little!Reader who accidentally gets cut by his machete

Tiffany

Mommy!Tiffany punishing Little!reader

Chucky and Tiffany x reader How things came to be

Chucky and Tiffany dealing with a bratty Reader

Chucky and Tiffany with a reader that loves playing

Daddy!Chucky and Mommy!Tiffany HCs

Chucky and Tiffany with a Chubby!Little!Reader

Chucky and Tiffany help soothe scared reader

Chucky

Chucky and Tiffany x reader How things came to be

Chucky and Tiffany dealing with a bratty Reader

Chucky and Tiffany with a reader that loves playing

Daddy!Chucky and Mommy!Tiffany HCs

Chucky and Tiffany with a Chubby!Little!Reader

Chucky and Tiffany help soothe scared reader

Brahms

Brahms x reader who’s a little and CG

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas as a Daddy/Little head cannons (separate)

Thomas as a Cg

Vincent

Vincent Sinclair as a Caregiver

CG!Vincent comforting little!reader after a nightmare

Caregiver Vincent and Bo helping their little reader with a bad day that gives them a panic attack

Little Muse

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Bo with a happy/optimistic Little

Bo with a sensitive little

Bo Sinclair with a reader who carries a blanket with them everywhere

Caregiver Vincent and Bo helping their little reader with a bad day that gives them a panic attack

Lester

Lester caregiver headcannons

Billy Loomis

Poly!Ghostface finding out reader is an ageregressor

Poly!Ghostface x sleepy!little!reader

Stu Matcher

Poly!Ghostface finding out reader is an ageregressor

Poly!Ghostface x sleepy!little!reader

The Blind Man (Norman Nordstrom)

Norman and reader playing hide and seek

Freddy Krueger

Freddy with a little who misses him when they’re awake

Michael

Little!Michael being fussy

Little!Michael having a bad day

Little!Michael HCs

Little!Michael helping stressed CG

CG!Michael kidnapping his little

CG!Rz!Michael helping reader with impure regression

Cg!Michael Myers stalking little reader

Jason

Cg!Jason x Little!Reader who accidentally gets cut by his machete

Tiffany

Mommy!Tiffany punishing Little!reader

Chucky and Tiffany x reader How things came to be

Chucky and Tiffany dealing with a bratty Reader

Chucky and Tiffany with a reader that loves playing

Daddy!Chucky and Mommy!Tiffany HCs

Chucky and Tiffany with a Chubby!Little!Reader

Chucky and Tiffany help soothe scared reader

Chucky

Chucky and Tiffany x reader How things came to be

Chucky and Tiffany dealing with a bratty Reader

Chucky and Tiffany with a reader that loves playing

Daddy!Chucky and Mommy!Tiffany HCs

Chucky and Tiffany with a Chubby!Little!Reader

Chucky and Tiffany help soothe scared reader

Brahms

Brahms x reader who’s a little and CG

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas as a Daddy/Little head cannons (separate)

Thomas as a Cg

Vincent

Vincent Sinclair as a Caregiver

CG!Vincent comforting little!reader after a nightmare

Little Muse

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Bo with a happy/optimistic Little

Bo with a sensitive little

Bo Sinclair with a reader who carries a blanket with them everywhere

Lester

Lester caregiver headcannons

Billy Loomis

Poly!Ghostface finding out reader is an ageregressor

Poly!Ghostface x sleepy!little!reader

Stu Matcher

Poly!Ghostface finding out reader is an ageregressor

Poly!Ghostface x sleepy!little!reader

The Blind Man (Norman Nordstrom)

Norman and reader playing hide and seek

Freddy Krueger

Freddy with a little who misses him when they’re awake

Steve Kemp

Cg!Steve Kemp x little!reader

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its-monster-mash · 1 year

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

Bo Sinclair X Reader - Part Three

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

Part One Part Two

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

Bo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Food.

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

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

Damn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But none of that’s important right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There it is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, he’s been sweet to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys are such brothers—”

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

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

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

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

He grins when he hears you yelp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Need.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn fuckin’ right.”

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

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

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

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

He can hardly fucking believe you’re real.

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small-sinclair · 1 year

Text

You’re Safe, Darlin’

A little tipsy but thought of something…maybe a part 2?

A/B/O Sinclairs x little sister!reader (not dating)

Welcomed reader: @sketchy-rosewitch

Tw: reader isn’t a wolf, car crash, injured reader, glass, blood, not proofread

Granted, you were lost as you were trying to get home tonight, and it was raining. Luckily, you were in the daylight still as you drove down the unknown road… but why did you know it? Why did the turns and gravel seem like a home you never knew? An address written on an unsent letter.

Still, you drove your car down the road to try to find a place to turn around or ask for directions. Maybe you should’ve turned left instead of right… either way, all roads leads to home. Your father told you that a couple months ago when he was drunk with his friends, but it was good advice. Though he wasn’t your real dad, he made an effort to keep you safe and warm.

“…and that was Fall Out Boy’s new song. Stay tune for the weather,” the man said over the radio as you drove past an old truck with wooden gates on the sides, dirt and grim covering the back. You let out a shaky breath as you listened to the weather closer. “There’ll be a thunderstorm rolling and a few tornado warnings and watches in the listening area. Please be advised and keep listening to WOB 102.5…”

Maybe I should pull over? You thought as you looked for a road. Maybe wait for this to pass?

Out of no where, two deer jumped out on to the road. You slammed the breaks and the wheel turned too fast. You slide to the side and felt the car roll, jerking you to the right then left then right again. You closed your eyes and covered your face as glass shattered over your skin. You rolled two more times until you stopped on your tires. The air bags blew sometime before but you couldn’t remember.

All you knew that it was a bad time for the radio to be playing, “Like a Little Prayer”.

Your ears ring as your eyes slowly opened. Your blue vision came clear when you saw something large and black standing in the middle of the road. The wolf must’ve been standing 5 feet tall, and it looked longer than each other. It’s large blue eyes glared at you. The rain poured over it’s thick black as if it were an umbrella for the wolf, but your brain told you it was too big to be a wolf. The paws were way too large for a normal one, but your brain shouldn’t be worried about this.

Then something burned in your stomach. You looked down and nearly threw up. Window glass burned your stomach, stabbing your lower gut. You felt the blood flow from your shirt and warming your thighs. You wanted to scream, to cry, but couldn’t find the strength to do so. You leaned your head back and looked at the dog—

It’s gone.

…maybe it’s better this way.

Your eyes rolled back and started to drift away to a forgotten home where brothers welcomed you. Twins hugging you while another your age giggling about a cool animal he just found. One twin with scars on his wrist. One twin that wore a mask to cover his face, the scar that Daddy left. You couldn’t remember their names, but you saw their faces when you looked at the memories.

You thought there was always wolves around your house when your brothers and real father were gone. There were always a black wolf guarding your bedroom window while another wolf with half a face fought the smaller red one in a playful matter.

Maybe the wolf you saw was your old friend?

Who knows, y/n… who knows.

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

You were breathing too slow as you came back. You were too weak too move, too tired to do anything. The pain in your stomach and over your thighs, the feeling of dried blood over your hands felt like chipping paint over wood, and your head pounded.

Turning your head, you found that you weren’t in your car anymore. You saw an oxygen tank, and your arm was hooked to an I.V. . Under you, the feeling of soft cotton and cold sheets welcomed your curling fingers as you tried to keep your eyes open. The blankets over you were at your shoulders and kept you warm.

Slowly, you turned your head and looked up at the ceiling. Glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to a dark blue ceiling, just like your childhood room. You smelled the blanket and smiled: honeydew and lemon, your childhood home smell.

You felt as if you were never taken from your brothers.

Thunder rumbled as muffled footsteps came to the room and entered. Then a familiar face came to view, and you felt yourself tear up. He was looking down at you, all grown up, your brother. His bright blue eyes and untamed curls still the same as he gave a sad smile. You saw his wrist, scarred and roughed, as he pushed your hair away and brought your blanket up higher.

You opened your mouth the greet him, to say something, but all that came out was a rough cough. You felt your body jerked at it as it burned your body, and you felt pain surge all around. You closed your eyes as your fit passed. All of it left you exhausted as your eyes opened again.

“Yer safe, darlin’,” he kept his voice low and calm. “Yee gonna be alrigh’.” Sleepiness took you again as the pain became too much. “I’ll stay righ’here as long as ya need, okay, sweetness?” He looked over you then the I.V. Frowning, he looked behind him. “I’ll hav’ Vince put another on.”

…Vince. Vincent.

“B-Bo?” You whispered. “Beauregard?”

His eyes lit up sadly as he nodded. “Yea, yea… ‘at’s right. ‘S me… ‘s me.” Bo chocked back tears as he sat next to you. “Ya need to rest.” Bo should have Vincent put you under some more pain killers. He should try and keep you sleeping until your wounds heal, but that’s not fair. It wasn’t fair for anyone that you were hurt.

It’s his fault. He was hunting, getting anger out. No saw some deer and ran after it and didn’t think that someone would be driving. When he saw your car tumble and roll, he knew it was you. He knew your cherry and vanilla scent anywhere, and it burned his nose as he watched your car.

Granted he thought the state took you far from Louisiana because he lost track of you years ago and… and he gave up. He gave up looking for you. Vincent gave up, too, because he stopped washing your bedsheets. Lester gave up and drank himself drunk. All gave up… but he found you. He found you in the worst place possible: glass squished into you ribs, your leg broken, and blood… too much blood.

If only he wasn’t a killer, a hunter just like his father—

“I’m sor-sorry I left,” you stuttered through pain. You can’t do it. You just can’t. “I’m… sorry…”

“Y/n? Darlin’, shh, shh,” Bo hushed you, his hand combing your hair back. “Save your breath. Please… please, rest.” He looked at the shadow in the doorway and found a nervous Lester standing there with his hand turning his shirt. Bo looked back at you and forced a smile. “I need ya t’rest.” He found your hidden hand and took it. “Bo’ll watch’ya an’ keep ya safe.”

“The wolf,” you babble. “Where’s… where the wolf?”

He swallowed hard as he brought your hand up to his forehead. He kisses your hand as he clinched his jaw. “Wolf’s gone.”

“Killed it?”

He shook his head as Lester stood next to Bo, who had tears streaming down his cheeks. “No, sweetheart. I didn’t.”

“Safe?”

“Yes,” Lester answered this time. “Yer safe.”

Your eyes light up. “Lessy,” you said happily, a smile forming. “Hi..”

“Hi,” Lester answers. “Heya, sweet pea.” He looked over at the door and nodded at the other. Slowly but surely, Vincent stood next to Lester. Under his mask, you saw his lone blue eye and tears falling. “Remember Vincent?” You nodded. “Cause Vincent-Vincent took car’o ya.”

You stiles at them as he winced at the sharp pain. You gripped Bo’s hand and sighed painfully. Bo looked between you and his brothers. He licked his lips. “Sleep, y/n. We’ll talk when ya healed.”

You looked up at the ceiling again and felt a smile form. Home. You were home.

“Bo?”

“Yeah?”

Sleep called your name like a lullaby. “Nightlight?”

“Vincent’ll turn it on. Promise.” Why did he feel like he was losing you? Why did he feel like you were dying all over again? “I promise, darlin’.”

Then the pain took you in its warm embrace. You closed your eyes as the world went black again. Maybe you’re dreaming that you found your brothers, finding hope that there were there in your last moments alive. All you knew was that the monsters were gone and your brothers are here.

Your hand loosened as a relaxed sigh escaped. Hello darkness. Take this Icarus with open arms.

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house-of-slayterr · 2 years

Text

Slashers with a Little:

Cw: AFAB reader

Micheal:

Micheal had just come home from a rather large killing spree. It was Hallows eve after all, and he was gearing up for his favorite night of the year. Halloween would be a blood bath come this time tomorrow. He was in a fairly good mood and excited to see his baby. Of course, he never called you that to your face. But what he wasn’t expecting was to be met with a literal baby when he came home.

He looked all over the house for you. You weren’t in the kitchen, watching tv in the living room, asleep in your bed? Micheal was growing annoyed, thinking you went out and forgot to leave a note again. You tried to convince him to get a cell phone, but he refused. He decided to check one more place, just in case, and there you were.

Micheal found you, curled up in a ball at the bottom of the closet. You were surrounded by all the spare blankets you kept in there for the winter, and all your stuffed animals. He tilted his head at you. Normally he wouldn’t care, but he knew sleeping like this wasn’t good for you. And unlike what Samuel Loomis thought, he wasn’t heartless. He could turn his emotions off for everyone besides you. So he gently shook you awake. But was caught off guard by your actions.

“Mikey!!!” You squealed softly.

You tackled him, catching him off guard and the two of you toppled to the floor.

“Mikey’s home! Mikey’s home!” You chanted excited.

Now, Micheal would have been confused by this sudden change of behaviour. But he witnessed it from afar, back when he used to watch you. Before he snatched you two Halloween’s ago. You’d been really stressed lately and he could tell it was getting to you, but he didn’t know how to help. And now you sat on top of him, age regressed to who knows what age? Micheal wasn’t very good with children, so he panicked a little.

He carefully moved so you were no longer on top of him, which caused you to frown. He then picked you up and carried you to your room silently. You kicked and screamed the whole way, and began crying when he put you down and left the room. But a moment, he came back with a hand full of your stuffies. Which caused you to stop crying.

He was going to leave you to be little on your own. He figured he wasn’t the best influence to be around a child. Micheal wasn’t concerned about corrupting adult you, in fact he took great joy and pride in it. But from his guess you were somewhere around 5 or 6 right now. So you could be self sufficient right? I mean, there were children back at the asylum. But as he went to leave he stopped in his tracks.

“Mikey, sleep?“ you asked.

Your hands were outstretched to him. He thought it over for a second. He really shouldn’t, he was still covered in blood and hadn’t cleaned up from earlier. But you looked so damn cute in his eyes, so he gave in. He laid down on the bed, and lifted you to lay on top of him. He handed you one of the stuffies and watched you giggle slightly. You gave the stuffie a kiss, then placed a kiss on Micheal’s chest.

“Night, Mikey!”

You fell asleep on his chest, and he stayed awake to protect you.

Billy and Stu:

Stu was always better with you than Billy was. Billy wasn’t exactly the most enthusiastic lover. Of course he adored you, you could feel it, Stu could feel it, but he was emotionally constipated. Ever since what happened with his mom, he wasn’t fond of more feminine company. He knew you weren’t a woman, but he had to remind the part of himself that hated them, that you were so much better.

They’d been hanging out at Stu’s house recently. After Ghostface killed his parents, there was no need to hide anymore. Both his relationship with Billy, another boy, and his love for killing. His parents already didn’t approve of him liking men, but being in a poly relationship was also a no. So you were originally introduced as a friend.

And his parents hated you. You weren’t worth much in their eyes, and they made it known. Especially after you cried in front of them, which Stu figured out later was the start of you regressing. You weren’t the most talkative when you were little. You were an older little, about the age of 8, so Stu loved that he could play games with you. He also loved to tell you outlandish stories, and watch you get excited about the pizza delivery boy showing up. He found it cute how excited you got at things.

But Billy thought it was weird. He’d never encountered anyone like you before. He internalised his trauma, but you showed yours outwardly. At first, he thought it was a joke. Until Stu put on his serious voice and explained it to Billy. It also helped when you explained in more detail the next time you were big. But Billy was scared of you. He was not good with kids, and he thought he might hurt you. So he watched you and Stu play from afar.

Stu was playing a more graphic video game today because you had started off big. But Billy was the first to notice you slipping. Stu didn’t notice until you began to cry, hiding in his chest. You weren’t a fan of violence, as it was one of your triggers when you were younger. Older you had the coping tools to calm yourself, little you did not.

“Billy!” You called to him.

He didn’t hesitate upon hearing his name. You’d never called for him before. He knelt down beside you and stroked your hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like this game.”

He chuckled lightly, and Stu looked down at you worried.

“Switching to Mario now.” Stu told Billy.

“Mario?” You asked, sniffling.

“Does our favourite kiddo still like Mario Kart?”

You nodded.

“I want Billy to play!” You said.

Stu glanced at his partner, as if to dare him to try to say no to you.

“I’m not very good at it” Billy tried to get out of it.

He was better at doing things like picking out your clothes, bandaging up scrapes, making you dinner. Stu was better at the quality time, and fun activities.

“Then I can win” you said with a devious smile on your face.

It was Stu’s favorite thing about little you. You were less worried about what others thought, and had fun pranking and saying what’s on your mind. Billy rolled his eyes and sat beside you and Stu. He let you win each round that night, and he’d never felt closer to you before.

Jason:

Jason was confused the first time you dissociated in front of him. You had been reading a book across the cabin from him. When he started to hear you groan in frustration. You had started to become fidgety and restless. You stared at you from behind his mask. You’d turned off the section of your brain that had patients for reading. And non of the words were making sense to you.

He looked to his mother for help. Trying to figure out what was wrong?

“Jason, my child, I think they’re a little.” She said softly.

Jason didn’t know what this meant and it distressed him. Pam was quick to calm her son.

“It just means that they’re really small right now Jay. Like a little kid. It’s not your fault, and it’s not completely a bad thing. It helps them feel better.”

This made him a little less worried.

“Why don’t you go see what they need?” She ushered her son towards you.

“What’s wrong?” Jason signed to you.

Luckily, you still remembered the signs you learned. At least basic ones.

“Can’t read.” You pouted.

Jason chuckled slightly. You were the most avid reader he’d knew, if was odd to see you like this.

“Read me?”

He sighed yes to you. He would read to you any time. Only you were allowed to hear his voice. Cause you never made fun of him. Although, Jason was worried if little you would like him. He sat you on his lap and began slowly reading the book to you. You didn’t mind that he wasn’t as fast at reading as adult you. You snuggle into him and played with the bottom of his mask.

Jason felt at peace with you. Maybe taking care of little you wouldn’t be so hard. He always had his mother for help. Grandma Pam was great with children!

Bo:

Bo wasn’t the most emotionally available of boyfriends. He spent more time with his cars then he did with you. Normally you didn’t mind, but it had been a hard week at work. And on top of that, you grew frustrated with Lester and Jonesy always reaching dirt into the house, and Vincent with his wax. It was impossible to kept the house clean.

Bo came inside, looking for you, and couldn’t find you anywhere. He checked the house up and down and grew a little angry, thinking you just left him. Until he decided to check one more spot. He never expected to find you crying on the floor of the broom closet. At first he was panicked thinking you got hurt. You flinched away from him, not quite recognising him for a second.

“Baby, what happened?”

You couldn’t find the words to explain you were so stressed that you were now on the edge of little space. You felt vulnerable right now and it made you even more shy. You held your hand up at Bo, just wanted to be held. But he wasn’t understanding.

“You have to use your words sweetheart, I don’t understand.”

You shook you head and pointed again. Bo recognised this method now, something Lester used to do when he wanted to be held. So he made an educated guess and helped you off the floor of the closet. Bo had no trouble picking you up, he was just less rough then he usually was with you. He walked you over to the kitchen and sat you down on the counter.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to understand what was going on right now. Why were you crying, why couldn’t you talk? Why was you whole posture and way of moving different?

“Baby, can you try to explain to me what’s going on right now?” His voice was calm and stable, but a little bit of worry was laced in it. “Did you hit your head or something?”

You shook your head.

“S-small.” Was all you could say.

He frowned. He didn’t know what that meant.

“What’s small?”

You pointed at yourself.

“Ok. So how small are you?” He asked slowly. Trying to figure out what he was asking you.

You held up 4 fingers.

“You’re 4?” He asked bewildered.

You nodded again, fidgeting with your hoodie. He was still a little confused, but Lester had been a 4 year old at some point. And he’d helped take care of his brother. How hard could this be?

“Are you hungry?”

You nodded vigorously and he chuckled.

“Alright baby, you stay right there and I’ll make you some food. How about some chicken nuggets?”

You squealed happily and kicked your feet. Bo thought you were cute like this. But he was a little worried deep down. He’d have to ask big you what was up, but for now he’d just enjoy the moment.

Vincent:

You’d been with Vincent a while now. You knew everything about him and he knew everything about you. So on this cold fall night, Vinnie could tell you were slipping. He’d had you on his lap all night as you silently watched him work on his art. A position you were both often found in. You were more than happy to spent silent time with your loving boyfriend.

But you’re eyes were less focused, and you began to fidget more in his lap. He could tell you were becoming restless. You played with his hair and nuzzled into his neck. He set down his tool and lightly tapped your shoulder. You looked up at him.

“Baby tired?” He asked.

You nodded.

His mask was off, so you could see him smile down at you.

“I finish?”

He wanted to continue working, but he’d ditch his project no problem if you asked him too.

You nodded once more, snuggling back into him. As he worked, he began to rock back and forth slightly, rocking you to sleep. Most people thought this only worked in babies, but it was every kids weakness. He learned you were about six when you became small. You’d had many important conversations about trauma and boundaries when you were big. And he respected every one without hesitation, you were his top priority.

After about an hour, he finally gave up on working, turning his full attention to you. He decided to start sketching you as his other hand played with your hair. You always loved his art and he knew you’d like it when you woke up. When he was finished, he gently picked you up and carried you to the bed. He cuddled around you as big spoon and kissed the top of your head. He’d keep you warm and safe until you were big again.

Lester:

Lester was the best with kids. He acted like one himself many times. He noticed you were little right away. When Bo and Vincent were off killing your friends, something seemed different about you. He was the one who caught you and he was going to help his brothers. But then you opened your mouth and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Who are you?”

He realised you weren’t awake last time he introduced himself to the others. You’d been asleep in the back of the van before they woke you up to walk to town.

“My names Lester.”

“I’m Y/N!” You said enthusiastically.

He raised an eyebrow at you. Didn’t you know he was about to kill you? Why were you so cheerful right now? Surely you knew most of your friends were dead right now.

“I like your hat Mr.”

Now he recognised this as the way a child would talk, not a grown woman.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, still slightly confused.

“Mhmm, wish I had a hat!” You frowned.

He chuckled lightly at this. Perhaps you weren’t so bad. You weren’t like those vulgar, mean kids you came to town with. He took off his hat and came closer to you kneeling down to where you sat on the floor and put the hat on you head. You smiled brightly, giggling.

That was a noise that made his ears flush bright red, and his heart swell. He was quickly finding you adorable.

“How old are you?” He asked, curiously.

“I’m six.”

Now he knew something was up. Certainly your body wasn’t six, but you seemed quite certain you were. But now he knew he couldn’t let his brothers hurt you. You were just a scared little kid, like they all once were. He decided then and there to rote that you.

“I have a dog you know. Would you want to meet them?” He asked.

Probably not your smartest moment. And he wasn’t trying to trick you in anyway, he just wanted to get you somewhere safe, not out in the open where Vincent or Bo could find you. They wouldn’t be so kind. Not without a good word from Lester first.

“If you get in the truck, I can take you there.”

You hesitated. At least you were smart. He could tell you were thinking it over.

“Not stranger, I know your name.” You concluded.

This statement both worried and fascinated him. He’d have to teach you later that despite him being safe, other strangers wouldn’t be. He wouldn’t want you getting hurt.

“Jonsey is gonna love you” he said as he drove toward his house.

The rest of the evening you stayed small and played with his dog. Lester had never been happier in his whole life. He’d have to ask if you wanted to stay in the morning. And beg his brothers not to hurt you.

Rusty:

Rusty didn’t come across many people working on the road. But he’d found you about three states ago. You were headed anywhere, just wanted some company. And he was more than happy to obliged. He’d never been around someone as pretty as you before. You made him nervous.

But as time went on on this road trip, and you both talked more. You learned a lot about each other trauma. He told you all about the other truckers made fun of him. So he liked to be alone. But you could tell that last part wasn’t true and we’re glad to offer him company. You revealed secrets about your own abuse. You explained to him what age regression was and that you really only did it in times of intense stress of when you felt calm and relaxed.

So Rusty was quiet surprised a week later when he witnessed you regress for the first time. It wasn’t obvious at first, you just began to answer his questions a little differently. Less logical and calculated and more emotion driven. He eventually got a sneaking suspicion you where dissociating. At first he was worried, had you been growing stressed. You’d not been around anyone other than him all day. He decided to ask you flat at.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” You said simply.

“Y/N…” you turned your attention to him.

“How old are you right now?”

You were caught off guard by the question. You thought you hid it well. You didn’t regress to a really young age often so it was much easier to pretend to be your adult self. You didn’t have to fight obnoxious childhood emotions.

“Fifteen.” You said.

This made Rusty a little uneasy. A trucker driving with a “fifteen year old” never looked good. But he reminded himself you were really an adult and consented, no, wanted to be there. He’d pull over if you ever grew uncomfortable.

“It’s ok Rusty, I’m still me.” You stated.

You noticed him getting clammy.

“I’m just a little younger. Teen me didn’t have much responsibilities, it was nice. This is nice.” You said.

He smiled at that. So you’d regressed because you were comfortable around him.

“You wanna be in charge of the radio?” He asked.

He watched your eyes light up. The rest do the road trip would be fun now that he knew you felt safe with him. You could both just be yourselves, which was something he could only previously do alone.

An: this was fun to write. Writings a little slow right now cause I’m still a little sick. But I wanted to write a comfort piece.

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chronic-boogara · 2 years

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𝚂𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝟸

happy un-shadow banning esha day !!! i was actually so pressed y’all like what was i supposed to do all day 😞

billy loomis

•oh please , you will spend a good majority of your time watching movies

•he’s very serious about his films. there’s a certain way he has to watch them. and no he will not change his ways for anyone including you y/n

•it has to be dark outside , all the curtains closed. stu can’t be sitting too close to him or he’ll be tempted to hit him to shut him up

•his favorite genre is horror but he’s willing to watch other things if he deems them good enough. he definitely calls them films instead of movies

•a bit of a pick-me. he will pretend to hate everything that’s new and popular gravitating towards whatever is looked down upon at the time

stu macher

•he is the same as billy. loves movies

•will talk through an entire film non stop if you or billy don’t stop him. he just has a lot to say all the time

•honestly if he doesn’t like the film he’ll just fall asleep.

•he likes to laugh so getting really goofy movies is a must for him. as much as billy hates them.

lester sinclair

•he loves movies. he’s not like billy or vince he loves all movies. he doesn’t believe there’s a bad movie

•lester could be watching a rock and still have fun because you’re with him.

•really likes movies like “the bee movie” or “fish tales”. to him they’re masterpieces. definitely has more than one copy of each.

•also a huge starwars fan!! like he absolutely geeks out over that stuff. he knows so much trivia about the series it’s absolutely insane

bo sinclair

•bo loves to watch movies with you. it’s nice to just sit and relax after a hard day.

•he does NOT like “girly movies” but if you beg him he will give in eventually.

•he secretly loves early 2000s disney movies. something about them is so comforting. he enjoys going back in time and remembering how happy things were. of course you’ll never hear him admit out loud.

•not too picky about movies but he’ll cover your eyes when something sexual or really scary happens.

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boringbxtch · 8 months

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You know what puts me off of writing? Trying to think of a way to start them, afterwards I’m good but the beginning should not be that difficult. I need starter prompts.

Help pls and I’ll send you spoilers from the drafts

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walkiingcandle · 1 year

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I wanna give slashers a hug.

I wanna give ashy boy a hug

they all deserve one

#slashers #slasher #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #slasher community #house of wax #lester sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #horror #billy lenz #ashley joanna williams #ash vs evil dead #ash williams #i love the skrunks #harry warden #my little fucked up meow meow

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writing-good-vibes · 2 years

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welcome back to self-loathing hours with anna. turns out getting a job is really difficult. and turns out even though at this point i'm willing to sell my soul to the corporations just for the minimum wage, none of them want me anyway. so what was i saying? oh yes, self indulgent comfort with the terrible twins. not sure when these are set, other than pre-canon. they get it, you're all stuck working for The Man, but if they could they'd keep you at home all day as their good little house-spouse 💗 bold is asl, as always. WARNING for spicy implications (nothing explicit). GN!reader.

bo x reader

"No, that's okay. I understand. Well, thank you for the opportunity."

You sigh as you hang up the phone. Another job rejection.

You check the time. Just gone noon. Bo should be going on his lunch break soon.

Pulling on your sweater, you decide to wait outside for Bo to get home. The road leading up to the sugar mill ran right past the Sinclair house, and you had a perfect view from the front porch.

A trickle of workers start coming back into town and soon enough you see Bo round the corner, along with a few of his work friends.

He smiles when he sees you, breaking away from his friends and walking up the short path to the house. When he reaches you, stood on the front step, he wraps an arm around your waist. With a kiss to your temple he says, "Afternoon darlin'."

"Afternoon," you mumble, squeezing him in a hug. "How's work today?"

He frowns down at you, "It's goin' fine. What's wrong with you, baby?"

You sigh again; it leaves you as a shuddering breath. "I didn't get the job," you whisper.

"Aw, darl', I'm sorry," Bo says, pulling away and throwing an arm over your shoulders as he guides you back into the house. "They'll be other jobs."

"I know," you follow his lead. "I know, but... nothing has worked out yet. I don't have enough experience for anything."

"Baby, you're sharp as a whip. Something will come along," he holds you by the shoulders, looking at you pointedly.

You try, "Yeah, but..."

"But, nothing, y'hear me?" Bo's eyes are intense, a fire burning being his baby blues that you weren't about to start playing with.

"Yes, Bo."

"Y'know, if anything come up at the mill -- up in the office -- you'll be the first to know. I promise." He presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling away, sending you off with a playful pat on your ass.

You nod over your shoulder at him. You know Bo would keep you at home all day if he could. He wants to provide for you, and all he'd ask in return is a hot meal and a clean house. For you to wait for him to come home every day and let him love on you.

But real life doesn't work like that, no matter how much you both wish it did.

Bo watches you go into the kitchen as he makes himself at home on the couch. He hears your movements as you get lunch ready, the rustle of the bread bag and the gentle clatter of plates on the counter. When you reappear, with two plates of sandwiches in hand, he smiles at you. God, you're too good for him, he thinks.

He gestures for you to put the plates down on the coffee table. You do so, and then he takes your hand, pulling you over to straddle his lap.

Resting his work-rough hands on your hips, Bo leans in to kiss you. His lips are chapped, but you kiss them when he pulls back to say, coyly, "I got a whole half hour before I have to go back to work, y'know?" His hands leave your hips, finding themselves on your thighs instead, slowly sliding up, inch by inch.

"Oh yeah?" you cup his face in your hands, pulling him back to your lips.

"Oh yeah."

vincent x reader

Another rejection letter. You shove it back into it's envelope and abandon it on the side table and try to push the feeling of disappointment down in your chest.

Instead, you go to the kitchen and busy yourself making lunch for you and Vincent. He's been down in the workshop for hours, he'll be hungry.

Fifteen minutes later, you descend into the basement with a plate of sandwiches and the latest book you'd been reading. Vincent is still working when you arrive at the workshop, he barely notices you walk in.

Placing the plate down on the least cluttered workbench, you walk up behind Vince, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Afternoon."

He drops the tool he'd been using to clasp his warm, wax-flaked hand over yours on his stomach. He grunts softly in greeting.

"They turned down my work, said it wasn't what they were looking for," you mutter into his back.

You feel his shoulders drop, before he eases out of your grip and turns to face you. "My love," his fingers stroke from your cheek to your jawline.

Not meeting his eye, you try and sound nonchalant, "It's my own fault, I shouldn't have set my hopes so high."

"You don't need a job," he says, "You can just stay here all day, with me. I need a muse."

"You know I'd love nothing more than to do that," you sigh wistfully. Oh, what you'd do to stay with Vincent all day. "But we need the money."

"No, we don't. We are starving artists," Vince smiles, a look that almost seems pleading. And you believe him, absolutely. There's not a doubt in your mind that Vincent would be willing to suffer for you, for his own art. That he would rather go hungry than make you work a job you didn't want, or seek the approval of those he considered beneath the both of you in terms of talent.

But the real world didn't work like that, no matter how much you both wish it did.

"We can only starve for so long. And it's not fair on Bo." Bo's been taking even longer shifts at the mill.

"Never mind Bo, we --," Vincent starts, but you cut him off.

"I'm going to try and get a proper job, just until I start getting somewhere with my portfolio."

Vincent looks like he's about to interject, but he can see you look dejected enough without him trying to argue your new plan.

"Okay, my love. But only until you can get your work out there, where it belongs."

"Thank you," you whisper, pulling him towards you enough to press your forehead to his. "Are you ready for a break?"

Your hand trails from where it is twisted in the front of his apron to the waistband of his jeans.

He lets out a breathy laugh, nodding. His hands reach behind him to untie the apron strings as he walks you back towards the cot in the corner.

#bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #having a moment.#wait when am i not having a moment actually?#oh to be the twins' little housewife #cook and clean and take care of them #and so much free time to read all the books ive been meaning too #and do all the writing i procrastinate over #but no instead i have to job hunt and be turned down because i have no experience and my degree is useless #godspeed to you all

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baby-fics · 2 years

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Cg!Bo Sinclair x Little! Reader, ft Vincent and Lester head-cannons

TW: Slashers, reference to m*rder and tort*re, reference to child ab*se. Not super prevalent, and not graphic.

I think Bo would actually benefit from being a caregiver. One of his worst fear's is being an abusive piece of garbage to his kids or his partner- anyone he cares about really, like his parents were.

He does have issues with anger as we all know, but knowing his s/o has the mind of a child encourages him to let out that anger in a less... Terrifying way!

After not receiving any genuine, soft, or affectionate love his entire life, having a little that will push past his misdeeds to snuggle up under his chin anyway? Oh you bet your butt he'll try to be the best Daddy you could ever have.

When he found out about your regression however, you were mortified. Absolutely convinced that he would be disgusted, and have Vinny turn you into a candle right then and there.

After watching the beginnings of a panic attack, Bo showed you the most gentle side of himself that you had seen up until that moment. Trying to show himself in the most non-threatening light while attempting to help you calm down.

He kept a non-threatening posture and spoke to you in a low tone,"It's alright sweetheart, you don' have to hide here. You're one of us doll, there's nothing you could do to make me get rid of you. S' Daddy clear on that?"

Now that sent you into INSTANT babie mode, and he could tell. In a moment you began subtly rocking back and forth while fiddling with your fingers.

Not trusting your voice, you nodded which caused Bo to lift your chin to meet his gaze so he could say, "You gotta use words baby, Daddy can't hear you that well!"

"Mm, yis Bowie.. Don' gotta hide" you said, the word Daddy sounding unfamiliar and uncomfortable given your lack of having a previous caregiver.

"Aww.. Bowie! Aint you precious.. Don' worry baby, you do whats comfy for you" he said while petting your bright red cheek as you averted your gaze.

Eventually he wants you to feel safe enough to call him whatever you want and be as small as you want. Bo can be patient, and he'll support you for however long it takes to fully feel confident.

Bo will ask you a ton of questions about what you like while you're small, and is very happy with any kind of Babie or Kiddo he has. He loves the dependence and clinginess of a younger littles though, but also an older little who can help their "Bowie" in the shop!

He's also absolutely fine with anything that comes with being the CG of a very small Little. Pacis, Bottles, Pull-ups, etc. You name it baby bear! He's got you! There's nothing that can deter him!

Bo's first step was creating a "Little Space" (ha get it?) in his room with a blankie, pillows, a decorated shoe box with your little items in it, and all of your stuffies. He also refuses to let you try to hide your little items or any attempt to conceal your regression from his brothers.

In fact all of the brothers are very supportive about your regression, you bring a sweetness and sense of joy to Ambrose. They're also very adamant that you feel comfortable in being authentic in your home with your found family.

Vincent and Lester eventually become "Uncle Vinny" and "Uncle Lettie" and are 100% okay with their new position along with being interested with the prospect of babysitting.

Obviously you cant just ✨magic away✨your anxiety or intrusive thoughts, that stuff takes time. But when you're surrounded by people who know that and are determined to prove those thoughts wrong? It helps that worry ease faster.

Vinny really likes to color with you and will let you do crafts in the basement sometimes! He'll let you play with clay or wax too! On one condition though, you can't go in to the basement without one of the Brothers when you're small.

You don't have many rules but "No babies in the basement without a big present" stops babies from seeing things they should not see!

Lester tells you stories and promises you stuffies in return for an invitation to one of your elusive tea parties; And as much as your shy lil self doesn't wanna come across as "greedy", any CG knows no little can resist the art of Stuffie Bribery for long.

Overall, it doesn't matter who you are. Once you've been accepted as a Sinclair, you ARE a Sinclair and they will accept whatever strange or unfamiliar quirk you come with. Because lets be honest, they come with some pretty funky ones too and they know it.

Daddy Bowie and your Uncles will do anything to keep the littlest Sinclair of them feeling safe and happy. Whatever it may take. <3

(Sorry that was so long! Thank you for reading! This wasn't proofread too much so pardon any mistakes! This is mainly based off of how my little space works and is for the most part indulgent lol.)

#agere caregiver #slasher x reader #bo sinclair x little! reader #little!reader #agere little #agere slasher

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