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small-sinclair · 11 months

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Roadside Angel: The Way You Smile

This is part 3 of the series! This is not the last part.

Lester Sinclair x reader

Tw: burned hand, mention of dead people, not proofread

Tag list: @sketchy-rosewitch, @sweetgoateelight, @justmeandmyghosties, @idorkish, @mommymilkerfanclub, @early20sfailingplenty, @shadow-h-cipher

Part 1| Part 2

It’s been two weeks since you’ve been here, so you have a month left to tell Lester ‘I love you’, but you weren’t sure if you were going to make it long enough to say it. But you were starting to find reasons to love him.

For starters, he asked Vincent, the one in the waxed mask, to let you say goodbye to your brother and William before he turned them into wax. He let you have a moment to mourn over them as he stood outside of his brother’s workshop. Vincent did a nice job on sowing Jace’s wounds and cleaning Williams body; they looked like they were sleeping.

When you were ready to leave, Lester walked out out of the maze of pipes and wires towards upstairs to the House of Wax. Before you left the room, you looked back at your brother and waved goodbye one last time.

“What’s Vincent going to do to them?” You asked softly as you went up the steps, passing waxed faces on the wall.

“He’ll put your brother in t’movies and t’other in the dining room,” Lester says as he opens the door for you. He held out his hand for you to take at the last step, but you didn’t take it. He awkwardly put his hand down. “Vince’ll make sure they’re respectful.”

You were sure if that was comforting or horrifying to say. “I hope so.”

Your footsteps echoed throughout the museum as you took a look around. It doesn’t look like anyone alive has been here for years; the mountain of dust showed along with the cobwebs. Though the place looked paused in the late 90s, the art style looked pretty new. You stopped at a chair and poked it— it’s wax.

“Is this whole place made of wax?”

Lester stopped a few feet ahead of you and turned to look at you. In the halo of dust floating around your hair, you looked just like an angel. “Yeah. The whole place ‘is.”

You gave him a doubtful look. “Bullshit.”

“Point ‘at somethin’,” he encouraged, a grin forming. “Anythin’.”

You took that invention, pointing at the floor. “Wood?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Beeswax and soybean wax.”

“Door and bookcase— that can’t be wax!”

“Sorry, sugar,” he chimed. “Wax, too. Soy wax, actually.”

You gasped surprisingly. “The whole house!? That can’t be—“

“Wax. Beeswax, soybean wax, coconut oil wax, an’ whale oil wax as t’hardern.” Lester gives you the brightest smile. “Mama built ‘is place.”

“Your… your mother built this?”

He nodded as he paced the floors then stopping by an oil painting. “Yep, Mama built ‘is before I was born.” Then he looked back at you. “She taught Vincent everythin’ she knew!” He chuckles and shakes his head, saying to himself, “They’re smarter than me.”

You tilted your head then looked at the painting. At the corner, you saw Vincent’s name written in gold. “He does the art?”

“That’s right.”

“Bo fixes car,” you took a careful step towards him. “And what do you do?”

His smile leaves as he looks down at his dirty boots. The air became thick around you. He pushes himself away from his brother’s work and came to your side. He takes your hand. “Come on,” he mumbles. “Gotta get you home. Still need rest.”

That was two weeks ago.

Now, you barely talk to him.

He wakes up before you, cooks you breakfast and coffee, and kisses you goodbye on the hand, saying, “Be home soon, sweet pea.” Everyday, he does this. When he comes home, he kisses your hand or cheek and washes up. He talks about his day and tells you something new the loves about you.

“I love your handwriting,” he told you a couple days ago. “It’s so easy to follow and flows.”

Yesterday, he said, “I love the bread ya made last night.” He flashes a smile and said, “Promise I’ll bring home more cookin’ things ‘is weekend. Y’all can come with.”

He invited you to come with him to town last time, but you didn’t go.

Even though you don’t talk to him, he still tried his best to talk to you. He takes about his day, about the people he met, the animals and kills— but he likes it when he hears you talk. Still, you haven’t given him the satisfaction for talking or smiling. Lester would bend-over backwards just to see you smile. He’ll do anything to see you smile.

When he came home today with a wild daisy, he hung up his hat, boots off at the door, and he kissed your hand like normal. He balled up his light grey jacket and threw it in the washer. “I brought home a deer,” he says as he places the Bowie on the counter next to his pack of Reds and green lighter.“Killed jus’ twenty minutes ago, I reckon.”

You hummed to show your approval. Before you came here, you never thought of eating deer, now? You love it!

“I love the way ya sing, y/n,” he said. You lifted a brow at this one. You were finishing making dinner, something that he expects you to do, as he went on, saying, “Mama used to sing me to sleep.” He went to the kitchen sick and started washing his arms with orange soap and Goo-b-Gone. “She hated singin’ to me. Bu, you?” He glanced at you and gave a half-hearted smile. “You sound like an angel.” You couldn’t help but give a grin in return, but it fell as you continued cooking your hamburger helper.

He bit his lower lip nervously then started washing his hands again then under the finger nails. “I saw a lil’ fox today. It had the cutest tail an’ face—“

You weren’t paying attention when you grabbed the hot part of the pan. You let out a painful yelp and threw the spoon to the floor. You held your hand close to your chest as you fought back tears. Lester hurried to your side and took your hand—

“No!” You shouted, pushing him back. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me!”

He looked at you hurt and lowered his hand. He bent down, picked up the spoon, washed it off, and stands by the stove. “Run it under water at least, y/n,” he instructed. “Helps the pain.”

You did as you were told and ran it under cold water and took deep breaths through your teeth. In the silence, he said, “I know we’re supposed t’do one a day, but I love the way ya take charge of yer life.” He sounded genuine as he said, “I never… well, I wanna take charge.” He glances at you then back at dinner. “I love ‘at your strong.”

That broke the dam.

You’re supposed to hate him. He didn’t save your brother and friend. He has you here in his home, keeping a close eye on you and everything— but he’s been nothing but kind. He gives you space and never forces your to do anything. He helps clean and cooks, but you’ve taken that role to keep you busy.

But he smiles at you. It’s never forced or fake. It’s a real smile filled with tenderness and friendliness.

So how could he come from a family like that? How come he never ended up like Bo or Vincent? He doesn’t like killing or participates in the killings, so how? How didn’t he come out almost normal. Bo enjoys seeing your fear in your eyes every time he comes around. He scares you, threatens you, has once threatened to stab you if you showed weakness. Is that it? Does Lester feed off your fear?

You let a cracked cry escape and started crying against the sink. “Aw, sweet pea,” Lester sighs. He turns the stove off and moved the pan away from the burner and came to your side. “Is it that bad? Lemme see your hand—“

“Smile,” you chocked out. You met his eyes. “I-I love your smile.”

His eyes went wide in disbelief, but it softened. Hesitantly, he guided your hand back under the cold water and holds it there. Gears turned and burned with thoughts of hope and fear of you, but he’ll worry about it later. You just… you love his smile?

“Thank you, sweet pea,” he whispers. “I love your smile, too—“

“Lester,” you cut him off as far tears fell down your eyes. “Lester, I’m scared. I’m scare-scared you’ll hurt me or your brothers and Bo—“

He searched outside then looked back at you. “Rest your head on my shoulder, sugar.”

“Les—“

“Just do it. Le’me talk.”

You lean on his shoulder and allowed him to look over your burned hand. His fingers brushed over the burned mark for a moment then placed it under water once more. His eyes never left your hand, and he looked at it as if it was a fragile piece of art. He turned off the water and brought up your hand, kissing the wound as gently as he could.

“I ain’t never gonna hurt ya,” he promises. “I swore to your brother, an’ I plan on keepin’ it.” He rested his head on top of yours as he looks at the burn. “I know Bo’s been scaring you, an’ I know your scared t’death,” he closed his eyes and swallowed hard, “You ain’t got nothin’ to be afraid of when ‘m around.” He kisses your hand once more before turning to face you. He lifts your chin as he thumbed away your tears. Oddly, his rough hands were soft today. “I’ll fight them monsters, sweet pea,” he kisses your knuckles, “I swear.”

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

After dinner and tv, he made his bed on the couch again. He fluffed his pillows and took his night medication, but he stopped when he saw you standing in the hallway between the living room and the bedroom.

He straightens himself, eyes scanning over you. “Is your hand fine?”

You nodded as you held the wrapped hand close to your chest. “Could,” you swallowed the lump on your throat, “could you sleep with me tonight?”

His eyes lit up. “You sure? I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

You nodded. Standing aside, you opened up to the bedroom. “Just for the night, okay?”

He nods and takes his pillows, following you down the hall. In bed, he lays down after you made yourself comfortable and laid on his back.

Before he closed his eyes, you asked, “Promise you’ll never hurt me?”

“I promise, sugar,” he drawled, turning his head towards you. “I’ll protect you from everything wrong if ya let me.”

You laid on your side and offered a smile, and it made his heart ache for another. “Thank you, Lester.”

You started to learn to love him the next day.

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visceravalentines · 2 years

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I wish you would write a fic where….

Sinclair bros. gang bang tbh

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

The Sundress

Poly!Sinclairs x Hinge!AFAB!Reader

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

This morning you decided to wear a very particular sundress.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah I bet you can,” Bo murmurs.

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

Bo talks and Vinny signs at the same time.

“Nothin’ much – ”

“Basically nothing – ”

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

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

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

“ – could use some company for sure….”

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

“Lester?” Bo says flatly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you!” You give him a twirl.

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

“I would love that.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?”

“Yeah you.”

“It ain’t fair,” Lester pipes up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right back atcha, sugar,” you say.

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

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

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

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

“Goddamn, baby, you’re so much fun.”

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

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

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

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

#poly sinclairs #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #house of wax fanfiction #bo sinclair fanfiction #vincent sinclair fanfiction #lester sinclair fanfiction #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #asks #anon asks

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no-dick-no-balls · 2 years

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I desperately have to write a fanfic of Lester Sinclair x reader where the reader bought Bos old gas station and had it renovated into a house so they live there and like the rest of the town is getting torn down due to no property value from the events from the movie because it all takes place after the events of the movie AND VINCENT AND BO'S GHOSTS ARE TRYNA WINGMAN FOR THEIR LIVING BROTHER

IVE BEEN HUNTING FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS AND CANT FUCKIN FIND ONE

#i love them but i wanna see cannon accurate ghost bois fanfic #please #i beg of all the writers #slashers #slasher #vincent sinclair #house of wax #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #lester sinclair fanfiction #lester sinclair x reader

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creepswrites · 11 months

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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

#🔪 creeps writes #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher x s/o #house of wax #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #the texas chainsaw massacre #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface x you

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kiss-theggoat · 4 months

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Gonna need a part two where the slashers realize their s/o is alive >:’(

Slashers Fix You Up

Slashers Included: Thomas Hewitt, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Asa Emory, Michael Meyers, The Sinclair Brothers

TW: Violence and Gore

Thomas Hewitt:

The wound to your stomach was deep. It tore through deep tissue and muscle, but lucky for you, Thomas knew exactly what to do.

Not only had he been stabbed like that, but he’d become really good at sewing and stitching up human skin.

You woke up, feeling groggy, but immediately recognized the basement you were in. You laid on Tommy’s workbench, shirt off and torso numb.

When you looked down you saw Thomas hunched over you, huge hands trying hard to delicately sew you up, fingers covered in your blood.

You whispered to him, and you could’ve sworn you saw his heart skipped a beat. He jumped up, immediately grabbing the side of your face with relief written all over his face, eyes wide and breath heavy. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he lost you.

Billy Loomis:

Nothing when like it was supposed to that night. Sydney got away, Stu stabbed him too hard, and the worst of all…he stood above you, watching your blood pool on the hardwood of Stu’s living room.

He bent down, putting pressure on your wound while looking around the room, taking deep breaths and trying to think rationally…he needed to get you out of here. He quickly lifted you, trying to ignore your pained groans. He hated seeing you like this.

The moment he got your arm around his shoulders and your feet on the ground, he heard them…sirens. He was conflicted. Relief washed over him. He knew you’d be getting help soon but…if he didn’t run…Syd would tell them everything. He’d go to jail, be found guilty for murder.

In that moment, he didn’t care. He helped you limp towards the front door, pushing it open. You’d lost too much blood…you didn’t even realize that Billy was sacrificing himself to save your life.

Stu Macher:

Stu watched his entire world fall apart when Billy stabbed you. He watched you fall, holding your gushing stomach, blood seeping from between your fingers.

He rushed to your side, hands covering your wound as he laid you back onto the ground.

“Just look at me. Don’t worry, keep looking at me.” He refused to let you look at your wound. He didn’t want you to be scared about how hurt you were. He lifted your hands to inspect your wound…he sighed in relief.

“It’s okay baby…the bleeding is slowing down…you’re gonna be okay…”

Asa Emory:

Asa never expected you to fall into one of his traps. He was beating himself up about it, but there was no time. He lifted you onto his operating table, covering your entire body with gauze.

He started slow, sutures and thread in his precise hands. You were covered in deep wounds, caused by rusty nails…he whispered his apologies, holding one hand as he poured antiseptic over you. It burned, it was unbearable…but you trusted him.

He carefully sewed each wound with a single suture, making sure to reassure you and stop the bleeding whenever it happened. It took him hours, but nothing would stop him from fixing you. Fixing your skin, fixing his love.

Michael Meyers:

For the first time in his entire life, he felt guilt. He felt a storm of emotions, but as he stared at your knife wound- the one his dumbass caused…- he knew it wouldn’t kill you. He’d never felt so terrible and so relieved in his life.

He quickly scooped you up, carrying you into the bathroom with shaking fingers. His hands had never shaken before…

He slammed open your medicine cabinet, hard enough to crack the glass, and popped open the first aid kit, sending gauze and band-aids onto the bathroom floor. You’d patched him up plenty of times so it should be easy…right?

Six butterfly bandages, four bandaids, and two complete rolls of gauze later, you felt like you might be suffocated by the first-aid supplies but…he’d tried his best. And, you weren’t bleeding anymore.

Sinclair Brothers:

The blow to the face had broken your eyebrow and sliced your skin, and the fall to the floor left you with a concussion and a sprained wrist. Vincent carried you downstairs gently, knowing he had the supplies to fix you up in his workshop.

All three brothers stayed by your side, and you were never alone over the course of the next week, especially while you were sleeping, until your concussion headache finally went away.

Your face was bruised and swollen and it hurt like nothing else you’d experienced, especially the cut on your eyebrow.

But, every morning when you walked downstairs, you received a kiss on the eyebrow from each Sinclair brother, and they all treated you like you were made of porcelain, even Bo.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #stu macher #asa emory #the collector #michael meyers #bo sinclair fanfiction #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you #lester sinclair

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semiweirdshipper · 11 months

Text

Slashers' as fathers with a child/reader. (Comfort drabbles for anyone like me who has daddy issues).

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.

I'm a little embarrassed that I made this but I can't deny that it does comfort me and make me feel better. If it makes you happy as well, then I'm glad. Thank you for reading. I hope you have a nice day.

...

Freddy

He was sleeping in his bed when he felt something nudge his arm, the soft callings of your voice quickly rousing him from his slumber. "Daddy? Daddy, please wake up."

Paternal instincts demanding that he instantly wake to check and see if you were okay, Freddy sat up and opened his eyes. Immediately the sight of you standing beside the bed in your pajamas with a sad, frightened look on your face greeted him, and he reached out to gently brush a hand through your messy hair.

"What's the matter, sweetie? Is everything okay?" He asked, gazing around for potential danger.

You whimpered, your little hands anxiously fiddling together as you say sadly, "I... I had a nightmare and I... I got scared."

Relaxing a bit, Freddy sat up all the way in bed and lifted his arms out towards you, "Oh sweetie, come here."

Stepping forward and lifting your arms, you whimper whenever your dad pulled you sideways onto his lap and held you close. He kissed the top of your head and gently patted your back. "Thought I told you not to be having those?" He mumbled.

"I know, but... It was so scary and I-I didn't like it," You whined, burying yourself into the divine safety of his chest, his scent familiar and comforting.

"Shh, shh," Freddy rubbed soothing circles against your back while hugging you securely against him, always prepared to fight all of your demons away- even if your demons were as simple as nightmares. "It's okay, sweetie. You're alright. Daddy's got ya. Everything's gonna be okay."

"Ok..." You whisper, still snuggled against him. He was so comforting and safe. "Daddy? I'm thirsty. Will you get me some juice, please?"

"You want juice?" Freddy tickled your nose causing you to giggle, "Hm?"

"And a story?" You smile at him hopefully.

"And a story? Well, aren't you spoiled," Freddy smiled back and leaned down to nuzzle your forehead, "Sure, sweetie, let's get you some juice."

Grinning at his compliance, you lean forward and give him a big hug. He hugs you back, and it feels so nice and comforting that you feel as if you could go to sleep right then and there.

Freddy holds your hand as he takes you to the kitchen to get you some juice. Then he grabs a book from a shelf and sits down in his arm chair with you sitting in his lap with your blanket and juice in clutch. He reads to you the short story as many times as you want until you've finished your beverage and declared that you were tired again.

"Can I sleep with you, daddy? Please," You ask, fidgeting in the hopes that you wouldn't have to sleep in the dark alone by yourself again tonight.

Freddy doesn't have the heart to tell you "no", so he nods and ruffles your hair, "As long as you promise not to have anymore nightmares. Promise?"

"I promise, daddy," You say happily, crawling into bed with him and immediately going to snuggle into his chest, "I love you."

Freddy kisses your head and tucks you both in with a blanket, one arm wrapping around you to hold you against him. Warm, safe, and comfortable. "Love you too, sweetie. Now get some sleep and, this time, have 'good' dreams."

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

"Hey Les, you seen (y/n) around?" Bo asked as he approached Lester's truck.

Lester gave him a look that he came to dread. "Yeah, they're on back with Vincent. Why?"

Relieved by your assured safety, Bo placed his hands on his hips and stared hard at the ground. Guilt chewed on him like a hungry wolf, and shame became a permanent dark cloud hanging all around him. "I-I messed up, Les," He admitted, shaking his head.

Lester raised his eyebrows in suspicion, "What'a ya mean?"

"Yesterday, I... I messed up," Bo huffed, dragging a rough hand through his hair, "An' now they ain't talkin' to me, and I... I just... Uh."

"Oh, so that's why the little critter wanted to spend the night," Lester chuckled and petted his dog's head fondly, "An' here I was hopin' I was the new favorite uncle. Guess I ain't, huh?"

Bo ignored him as he thought about what happened yesterday. He had been angry for reasons unrelated to you, and when you had tried to get his attention he snapped and yelled at you. Even though "what" was all he yelled, he could still tell how much he scared you and hurt your feelings. Now you wouldn't go around him. Gosh, he didn't mean to do it, he just... He was just an idiot.

Lester frowned at him as if noticing his distress, "Well hell, if it's botherin' ya to the pits then why don't ya go talk to them? You are their daddy after all, ain't ya?"

Yes. Yes he was your dad. And no child should ever have to be afraid of their dad.

Making his ultimate decision, Bo adjusted his hat and began stomping away, "Gotta go."

He found you in the house eating snacks with Vincent. When you noticed he was there, you looked at him and then quickly bowed your head like... like you were afraid of him. And it broke Bo's heart. Good grief, what had he done?

Pulsing with regret, guilt and shame, Bo slowly approached you and knelt down beside your chair, "Hey there, little critter bug. What'cha eating?"

You were hesitant, keeping your face averted as you timidly mumble, "Grapes."

"Ooh, yummy, can I have some?" He lifted his hands out, uncertain of where and when he should start explaining himself.

Sadness and uncertainty decorated your face as you lifted out the bowl to him. Vincent seemed to understand what his brother was doing, and he stood up to leave and give you some privacy.

As he ate some grapes, Bo was surprised to hear you quietly ask, "Daddy... Are... Are you still mad at me?"

"Oh..." He straightened his posture, set the bowl aside and reached out to gently grasp your shoulder, "Oh, (y/n), I was never mad at ya, I just... I was just havin' a bad day and I..."

Bo sighed, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently in reassurance, "Look, critter bug, I didn't mean to yell at ya, and I definitely ain't mad at ya. I just... Daddy made a mistake, and I'm so, so sorry, (y/n). I promise... I'll never yell at you again. I promise."

Your eyes glistened as you looked at him as if in debate. Bo's throat was dry as he waited for your reaction, the negativity and guilt nearly driving him insane.

Instead of saying anything, you spread your arms and lift them upwards. Bo sighed quietly in relief and went to scoop you into his arms, his aching chest slowly beginning to calm down. He still felt guilty for how he made you feel, and he wasn't lying when he promised that he would never ever make you feel that way again.

Michael + Aunt Laurie

You were both trick-or-treating and having a good evening on Halloween. Michael alternated between carrying you on his back, on his hip, or simply holding your hand while walking. It warmed his heart to see how happy and excited you were, your candy-bag becoming overloaded with sweet treats.

He decided to stop at Lauries for a quick break and some refreshment. You ran back out while he was still inside. It only felt like a minute before he followed your footsteps and soon came to a scene that made his blood boil and his eyes widen.

You were laying on your back against the sidewalk, small, frightened cries spilling from your lips. In the direction you were staring, Michael caught a glimpse of a group of teenagers quickly running away. They must have done something to you. But what?

"D-daddy," You cried as he quickly walked over to you, and you skittered to get to your feet.

Michael barely got to check you over for damage before you were wrapping your arms around his waist and crying into his belly. "They pushed me and stole my candy," You whined loudly against him, "I-I just wanted to be friends, b-b-but they stole my candy. Ehh, daddy, daddy, what do I do? They stole my candy."

Anger invaded every nerve within Michael's body as he held you close protectively. How dare anyone treat you this way. How could they? You were the nicest, sweetest little angel. What was their problem? Michael's eyes burned with the memory of those teenage scum and the direction they fled.

Hearing your loud sniffles, Michael gently coaxed you back and knelt down. Slipping off his mask, he reached out, cupped your cheek and used his jumpsuit sleeve to wipe away your tears and snot. Then he used sign-language to ask if you were okay.

You nodded and cried in great sadness, "But they stole my candy. Wh-why did they do that, daddy? I-I just wanted to be friends."

Michael quickly explained to you how those teenagers were obviously bullies. This same experience happened to him too when he was your age. Everything was going to be alright. They would get you more candy. Calm down. Everything was going to be alright.

Slowly you began to calm down, your sobs and whines diminishing. Michael pulled you into his arms and hauled you against his hip so that he could take you into the house. You stayed attached to him the whole time, and he refused to let you go. Frustration still burned inside him, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to protect and comfort you/his child.

Laurie was there to save the day, thankfully, offering you all of the candy she hadn't yet given out and putting on a fun movie for you to watch.

You were snuggled up against your dad on the couch, your mood significantly eased as he rubbed your head and back and offered you pieces of candy. For the most part you forgot about the incident, but Michael certainly hadn't.

Let's just say that, by tomorrow, you would have your stolen candy back.

Hannibal

He had taken a leave of absence from work so that he could better take care of you while you were sick. It wasn't anything serious; just a small cold. The nurse from your school had sent you home earlier due to a sore throat and a fever. Hannibal had rushed to get you as quickly as he could.

Once he got you home, he had you take a bath and get dressed into your pajamas. You complained of throat and stomach pain, and you had irritated sinuses. He gave you some medication and told you to lie down while he made you some special soup that would soothe your tummy.

As he was cooking, he heard your tiny footsteps echoing from the hallway, and he turned to see your sleepy figure approaching, "Daddy?"

"Yes, my child, what is it?" He asked, setting his cutting knife aside.

"My tummy hurts so bad," You pouted, your voice beginning to sound scratchy, "And I don't feel good. I wanna be with you."

Hannibal grabbed a kleenex from the counter and knelt down to gently clean your messy nose, "I know. And that is precisely why you should be sleeping."

"But I can't sleep," You whimper, looking at him with sad, tired owl eyes, "I wanna be with you. Please, daddy? Let me stay with you."

Hannibal tilted his head at you, his brows lifting in debate. While he would rather you be getting some decent rest, he knew that you were young and still filled with energy even whilst you were sick. He didn't have much left to do cooking wise either, so he figured that having you stay around wouldn't harm anything.

"Alright then," Hannibal leaned forward and picked you up, swiftly positioning you on his hip and supporting you with one arm so that he could use the other to cook with.

You held onto his neck while resting your head against his shoulder, your eyes mostly shut as you listened to the sound of his heart beat. Safety and warmth enveloped you making you feel much, much better than what you had before. Your dad was always so cozy and comforting.

Hannibal was able to finish cooking dinner with you on his hip the entire time. Once it was time to eat, he set you down on a chair and made you a drink and a bowl of soup. You ate quietly which worried him a little, but he knew it was just because you weren't feeling good.

"Feeling better?" He asked when you were finished.

You smiled and nodded at him, "Mhm, it was real yummy. Thank you, daddy."

"You're welcome, my child," He reached out and gently squeezed your cheek before taking your bowl and cleaning it, "I don't suppose telling you to get back in bed will do any good, will it?"

Your pitiful whimper was enough of an answer. Hannibal chuckled, dried his hands and went to pick you up again, holding you close as he carried you to the living room. "A movie it is then."

"Can Will come over?" You asked, grinning.

Hannibal gave you a look, "I'm beginning to believe that you're not sick at all."

...

All good fathers' should fight their child's nightmares away, not be the reason why they have them.

#slashers #slasher fanfiction #reader insert #child reader #Platonic love only #Not romantic #bo sinclair x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #freddy krueger x reader #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #Father & child relationship #michael myers x reader #Slashers as dads #Comfort drabbles

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avintmich · 26 days

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Oh, you're here...

I'm already fucked, give me a man who will love me

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demon-lover-669 · 11 months

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Y/n: *leans down to look at slasher* I told you I’d have you on your knees

Slasher: you called and here I am~

Y/n: good boy~

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slasher-male-wife · 7 months

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How horror characters spend their Halloween with you

I wrote about this last Halloween and I wanted to make a better version of it with more characters this time. I am such a slut for Halloween and just autumn in general.

Includes: Asa Emory, Michael Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, The Sinclair brothers and Severen

Warnings: Murder and violence mentions, Hannibal being a little mean, blood talk in Severen's part (he's a little weirdo)

Asa Emory

He honestly thinks Halloween is a children's holiday. He never even bothered to get Halloween candy before he met you. If you're really Halloween obsessed he'll consider letting you put up decorations that he approves of. It's not cheap Halloween, Christian girl autumn or classic Halloween, its a secret fourth thing.

I can see him favoring vintage Halloween decorations over the newer ones. But he does like the insect and bug themed things you bring home. He wants the Halloween bug decorations to be casual enough to keep out year round.

He doesn't go to Halloween parties and if you bring him to one he's not dressing up. He'd say he's dressed up as an 'entomologist' or if you know his identity as the collector 'a homicidal maniac'.

He probably doesn't like horror movies because he's one of those people who think all horror movies are bad. But if he happens to see a new way he can torture someone he'll happily sit through a saw movie to see how else he can torment people.

He honestly won't eat any candy but as an 'experiment' he'll see how much you can eat before you get sick. Speaking of candy if you want to get up and answer the door to hand out candy you can do that but he's not joining you. If you're going to be out or you don't want to be disturbed he'll be happy to leave out a bowl.

Michael Myers

He's obviously going to be busy with killing people so for a majority of Halloween you'll be on your own. But he will be watching you the rest of the month as you put up decorations and buy candy.

He'll also be sneaking candy from the bags you buy. It might be smart to buy two bags just for Michael to eat on his own. If he's feeling generous he'll share some with you.

He gets some kind of weird enjoyment in seeing if you dress up and what you dress up as. Enjoyment in a Michael Myers kind of way. He likes more classic costumes and ones that have a good amount of effort put into them. He also thinks that he sexy Halloween costumes are just silly.

I feel like if you let him Michael would enjoy picking out your Halloween costume. Like you give him a pen and paper and he picks out what costume you wear, he would love that. I feel like he'd choose something funny to him, like the sheet ghost.

He'll get home in the early morning of November first and if you're still awake he'll spend time with you after washing up. If you're watching horror movies that's even better for him. He'll sit on the couch and watch them with you. Or if he's feeling affectionate he'll even lay down and have you lay on top of him while you watch.

Hannibal Lecter

He's European and to my knowledge Halloween isn't that big of a thing in Europe. He's familiar with Halloween and stuff but he doesn't really celebrate it. If you're really into Halloween he's happy to listen to you tell him all about it.

He's not really in a neighborhood to give out candy in and he also doesn't eat anything that isn't a 14 course meal so if you want Halloween candy you'll have to get it on your own. Even then he'll probably just silently judge you for it.

He's not much of a decorator for holidays, especially Halloween because of how 'cheap' and 'ugly' the decor is. If you try to put up stuff he doesn't like he'll throw it away or if it gets bad enough, tell you to stop putting things up. It all depends on the decorations though.

I can see him making an excuse to throw a dinner party for Halloween. But without costumes or any Halloween themeing and it's just a dinner party on Halloween. If you're someone who likes to spend Halloween watching Horror movies or going to parties Hannibal is fine with that. He won't join you at the parties and he might try to get you to not go but he's happy to watch Horror movies with you.

I can see him trying to cook stuff with pumpkin in it. But I strongly believe that he wouldn't let anyone carve pumpkins in his house. You've seen his clear suit while he kills people and how clean his house and office always is so I doubt he'd enjoy carving a pumpkin and how messy it can get.

Will Graham

Because of his upbringing he never really got to enjoy a traditional Halloween as a child and I feel like he rarely went to Halloween parties, so he's not a big Halloween kind of guy.

If you're putting up decorations you'll have to keep the dogs in mind. I think Will trains then well and that they're well behaved in general but you can never be too careful. I also think he'd find decorating a little pointless since he lives far away from everyone else.

He doesn't buy candy because there's no trick or treaters to give candy to, also again, his dogs. So you can buy candy for the two of you to share but I feel like you'd end up eating more than him.

Because Will is kind of prone to nightmares he wouldn't be super interested in watching horror movies, or spooky kid movies. But I do think he'd be open to the idea of reading scary stories together.

If Halloween is important to you he'll treat it as kind of important too, because he loves you. I don't see him doing costumes, but I do think he'd be willing to put the dogs in costumes for pictures and stuff like that.

Bo Sinclair

He never really got to enjoy Halloween as a child because he had to take care of Vincent and Lester. I also feel like his parents just didn't really like Halloween in general so they didn't celebrate it. This has led into his adult life where he doesn't celebrate Halloween.

He works like a majority of the time. I feel like he'll wake up at any hour of the night to go deal with victims. So trying to convince him to take off Halloween will take a lot of convincing. But he'll eventually understand and take the night off to spend with you.

I feel like he'd rather give up on the town than wear a costume. He'd be like Asa and just wear his normal clothes and say he's something. Like he'd wear his coveralls and say he's 'a mechanic' for Halloween.

He never bought candy before for Halloween but if you buy candy, he's probably stealing a lot of it, if not the whole bag. There's no trick or treaters so he'll happily watch horror movies with you and eat an entire bag of Halloween candy.

Speaking of horror movies he'll complain about watching horror movies until you throw in something like there's nudity in the movies, then he's more willing to watch the movies with you.

Vincent Sinclair

He thinks Halloween is a good time to incorporate more horror elements into his art as if he doesn't already do that. I can see him enjoying the idea of sketching or painting you in different Halloween costumes. They'll probably come from victims but he doesn't think it's a big deal.

He'd love to carve pumpkins with you but he'd be one of those people who takes it really seriously and probably makes some kind of masterpiece on the pumpkin. He'll probably just bribe Lester to get them for you because Bo would say no.

I don't think he has the biggest sweet tooth so he'll probably not be eating much candy, but that won't stop him from bribing Lester to get you some if you want candy. I can see him decorating the House of Wax for Halloween, complete with wax candy.

He'd be open to watching horror movies with you, but I seem him only really enjoying like art house or psychological horror movies, like ones with commentary or just ones that are really odd in a good way. He'll watch more cheesy and silly horror movies but he won't really like them.

I can see Vincent taking Halloween as an opportunity to kill people in more creative ways. Like the classic poisoning candy. I think he'd get more creative with it too, like using fake cobwebs to strangle someone to death.

Lester Sinclair

I feel like Bo and Vincent let Lester have some kind of Halloween. Their parents tried to keep them from celebrating Halloween but the twins scraped up some kind of pocket money to buy candy they could share with him.

Despite him not celebrating Halloween as a child I feel like Lester likes Halloween in a normal way. He likes Halloween and the aesthetics of Halloween. He has decorations but he doesn't usually put them up, but if you want them up he'll put them up for you.

He'll probably have to work on Halloween because he works almost every day. But he'll make sure to get Halloween night off so he can spend it with you watching Halloween movies and doing fun Halloween activities.

Like Will he'd love to dress Jonesy up in a dog costume and take pictures of her. He wouldn't dress up but if you wear a costume he'd be all over it no matter what you're wearing.

Depending on how long you've been with him he might take you to a haunted house outside of town if you're interested in haunted houses. He'd only do this if you've been with him for a very long time. He'd keep a close eye on you while you're out of the house, but he still wants to make sure you're having a good time.

Severen

He's very into Halloween. Even though he lives in cars and motels he still finds fun ways to celebrate Halloween. I feel like he'd binge blood from people dressed as vampires for Halloween.

He's weirdly into blood. Like he'll get his hands purposely covered in blood just so he can rub the blood all over you because he thinks you look hot when you're covered in blood. So on Halloween he'll get really messy with it. I feel like his costume would just be his normal outfit covered in blood. Also he might make out with you while his mouth is filled with blood.

He totally crashes Halloween parties and drinks himself super sick. I feel like vampires have a high alcohol tolerance but they have worse hang overs. But he thinks it's worth it to drink himself sick at a Halloween party with you.

If Halloween parties aren't your thing he's happy to just sneak into a movie theater and watch some horror movies. He'd especially enjoy if you get scared or squirmy and hold onto him while you watch the movies.

He knows you can't have Halloween without candy so he'll either steal candy from kids (unless you tell him not to) or he'll steal some from a store. He can eat a ton of candy before he gets sick and if you can't eat as much as him he'll tease you about it (but he really does care).

#asa emory #asa emory x reader #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers x y/n #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x you #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #severen near dark #severen x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher fanfiction

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kerokreature · 1 year

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Some Sinclair Headcannons since I have brain rot

This is for the Sinclair brothers x chubby!reader (gender neutral but with Afab)

CW: Mentions of weight, use of the word fat, body dysmorphia, mentions of eating insecurities

NSFW WARNING, THERE WILL BE NSFW AHEAD

Enjoy

Bo Sinclair

He is 1000% a chubby chaser

This boy likes em thick, it’s the “more of you to love mentality”

He will be so touchy feely, really he will be groping your tummy, running his hands up and down your curves like he’s sculpting a vase (not that Bo is the artistic type)

He wants his face buried between those thighs

He loves running his calloused hands over any stretch marks you may have, brushing over them as he works his way down

He’s going to make sleazy comments the whole time but when he leans in to your ear, his fingers tracing from your neck to your tummy. Hands pausing to grope your softness before his fingers push further to please what waits between your thighs- he almost almost sounds like he’s worshiping you when he says your beautiful and that all of you is his.

He would be so lewd with his teasing, nipping and biting at every stretch mark, softly and then more roughly squeezing at your body, especially to part your thighs for him. He loves when he can take hand fulls

All of you is gorgeous and fucking sexy to him

I Picture bo as the type to be into having his partner wear specific things for him (maybe it’s the control) and he would lose it when you do

He would praise every curve and where he can and can’t see certain things in what you’re wearing

“God Almighty Darlin’ that just looks perfect on you.” “Wow sweetheart, look at those curves.. can’t wait to unwrap them.”

Afab body mention ahead

He would grope you constantly, if you don’t want your chest groped he would back off a slight bit, but he’d want to use them as a pillow.

He’d want to press his fingers into your stomach, just below your navel until it hurt. God would he push on that spot (fertility or no) because that’s especially His

The way he would squeeze your thighs as he parts them. His groping would be especially rough as he holds one up to your chest before digging his fingers right into your core, greedy, starving, only stopping to tease that bundle of nerves so he can wrench more moans from your pretty mouth

Fluff continuation but about insecurities

If you’re insecure about eating in front of him because of your weight/shape etc. he would literally just feed you.

Spoonful by fucking spoonful and he might even praise you and run his hands over whatever it is you’re insecure about for good measure

Your Are His fucking perfect little lover, even if he torments and insults you it’s never ever about any of those insecurities

If he catches you staring in the mirror mentally beating yourself up, you’re going to catch him being soft

Hugging you from behind, gently whispering all the things he loves that you hate, tracing his fingers over you to show just where he means

Doesn’t matter if you think you’re heavy you’re getting pulled into his lap and he’s going to hold you like you’re nothing.

Yeah he’s likely teasing you during, Bo is just insatiable that way

Lester Sinclair

Oh boy he is also absolutely a chubby chaser, this boy is licensed by the damn state to be a chubby chase

He’s a pudge connoisseur one could say

Fuck is he gonna stare, but not rudely. He’s going to look at you like an august sunset. He’s going to gaze at you like you stepped out of a fairy tail. (He might even give Vincent a run for his money there)

He’s shy at first, or maybe less shy more just taking his time, but once your both comfortable he is on you.

When he’s tired after a long hard day you’re his pillow, the moment he’s out of the shower he is cuddling you and touching your skin

Less lewdly then Bo but he will have his hands on every part of you. Kisses pressed to each stretch mark, he’ll have to stop himself a thousand times from getting a bit rough but

God does he want to squeeze and grope and push into all of your plushness, he wants to feel you and trace the beauty that is you, he wants to worship you, praise you

And in the right light you can see he inherited Bo’s possessive streak. The way he pulls you in, eyes moving down your thick frame, the way his crooked grin spreads haphazardly across his face, chin jutting as he runs those work calloused hands over your thighs, that head tilt as his eyes narrow and sharpen. You can tell he’s thinking about how every curve is his.

But god would he still be gentle, agonizingly gentle

I Picture him with an oral fixation also so you’re getting kissed, licked and anything he can get his mouth on is going there

“you taste mighty sweet y/n” “goodness you’re soft, I can’t seem to keep my hands off of you my baby.” Between kisses and nips you can hear him whispering your name.

Afab body mention ahead

Your nipples, always, even if you’re uncomfortable with your chest he’ll coax and whisper to you as he kisses and licks over each mound of flesh before pulling your sensitive buds into his mouth, teeth brushing them but never too hard

Kisses and nips and licks would be trailed down your body, over each stretch mark until he’s parting your thighs, nipping and sucking the flesh once he parts them, teasing his way towards your core.

BOY IS A M U N C H OKAY?

His tongue would trace over that bundle of nerves and he would begin, every fold is claimed by his tongue as he pushes your thighs around his face.

And I mean he wants you to smother him with your thighs, taking you tensing and locking them around his head as a sign he’s treating his lover exactly as they deserve, and god he’s going in for the kill, he wants you trembling and orgasming on his tongue

Fluff continuation but about insecurities

You are perfect in his eyes but he knows how much it hurts when you hate how you look

He would hold you in the mirror, guide your eyes away from where you’re looking at yourself to look into his eyes instead

He’d remind you that you’re perfect to him, his hands carefully touching up and down your ribs to your hips

If you’re insecure about eating he’d softly reassure you, he’d tell you you’re perfect and have nothing to worry about

He’d remind you if anyone said anything he and his brothers would take care of it

He’d coax you with your favorite foods, he might even gently hand feed you

More oral fixation at play, he loves watching you eat, your lips move, he’s wild about it

Vincent Sinclair

Not necessarily a chaser but he adores your form

To him you are the work of Tiziano Vecelli

You are warm and all soft curves, the way your plush form interacts with the bed, with the linens

He draws and paints you regularly, he hangs them in his room, the basement, maybe even in the Museum

He watches, he gazes, at first he doesn’t touch. To him you look so soft and plush and strangely fragile that he could never, he’d ruin you

But when his fingers grace your skin he runs them over you like he’s sculpting you himself, like he’s memorizing every curve and angle, where your ribs curve into your hips, the way your stomach moves under his hand, the way your thighs curve into calf. Each of your fingers, your wrist, the curve of your upper arm and how it becomes bone at the shoulder, your neck, under your chin, your face

His fingers are so delicate as they dip over every curve, hill and valley, over your navel under your stomach, and of course between your thighs

Explores there for an eternity, picturing a thousand sunrises and sunsets as his fingers knead and rub at your inner thighs, pressing into the plush and soft flesh

His hands work over the curve of your ass, fingers dipping in to that crease where it meets your thigh

At points his fingers are so gentle it’s like he’s touching rice paper

He signs sweet things you, a bit hurriedly since he wants his hands on you. “Beautiful” “soft” “work of art” “adore” “mine” “love” nothing long enough to keep his hands away

Afab body mentions ahead

He can’t help but trace his way back up to your chest, his hands massaging the mounds of flesh there, fingers tweaking against your nipples, he’s likely enamored

But he just as quickly makes his way back down, running two fingers over your labia in long broad strokes, delicate and attentive

He’ll part his fingers to push down on either side of that bundle of nerves, tracing circles around it, your moans are like the swell of violin to him he barely dips his fingers inside, finding that spongy spot and pressing before he moves again

He has to feel you under him, all around him, throbbing on him as your thighs wrap his waist. He’s surprisingly rough now, pushing into you with resounding slaps, groping your sides a little less gently, the whole time his eyes bore down into you

He needs you on him just as much, no he doesn’t care if you think you’re heavy he’s placing you up on him himself, guiding your hips rhythmically, his hands tracing up as he gazes at you like you’re a marble statue

You’ll be wracked with orgasms, he needs to see, needs to feel just how your body moves and trembled as you finish, over and over again

Fluff continuation but about insecurities

He refuses to give you the opportunity to be insecure.

Or at least he tried to shut it down before it can happen

There’s so many paintings and sketches and even small carvings of you now, and he doesn’t think anyone should see you in any other way

If he finds you mentally picking yourself apart in the mirror he holds you, removing his mask to remind you that everyone is insecure sometimes as he signs sweet praises to you

If he sees you being insecure about food he’d sit with you through your meals, he wouldn’t look if you didn’t want him to

But he thinks you’re beautiful no matter what you’re doing and he’d let you know.

198 notes · View notes

small-sinclair · 11 months

Text

My Pearl

An idea that @charliedawn made from their post. It’s like a soulmate au idea on my end.

Lester Sinclair x male!reader

Also, a birthday gift for the lovely @crumb. Happy birthday 🎉🎉🎉

Tw: blood, Hanahaki Disease, not proofread

He couldn’t stop thinking of you, and it drove him crazy. Every time he was on the road, he hoped to see your car, to see your face, to hear your voice. If he saw you one more time, he could be cured and he can move on with his life.

But that was a hopeless dream, both he and his brothers knew it. He would never see you again, and that thought killed him.

Then he got sick a couple days later.

At first, his throat started to itch. He would cough from time to time and took medicine to help it, but as the days went by, he noticed something terrible. He was helping his brothers put up a new welcome signs when he started coughing again. He bent over and coughed harder and harder until a bloody blue lily was thrown from his lips. Vincent’s eye went wide as he hurried to his brother’s side as he heaved in heavy breaths. Bo stood over his brothers and saw the flower bud. He clinched his jaw tightly as he breathed in and out slower. All three looked in disbelief at the flower in front of him.

So it was straight to the medical books. Vincent rereading books and pages while Bo did research online to figure out what’s going on. Lester, on the other hand, decided to do look up they blue lily to figure out what it was… that was until he started coughing again and more bloodily petals spat out in the sink. Each time he coughed, the more violent and bloody it got.

After that, their mother’s journals/guide books she wrote for the three boys. The only good thing she ever did. They read through all the journals until they found something.

Vincent held up his book and gathered his brothers together. Bo read the pages and eyes lit up as he read aloud, “Get this: ‘Lester has t’mark of pearls on his back. When he gets older, he’ll meet someone wearin’ pearls and they’ll be lovers’.”

“He was in pearls,” Lester informed. “Pretty ones, too.”

But Bo didn’t believe it. Soulmate marks were almost wrong in his family; how could he found his soulmate already?

Two days later, Lester fell for the worse. He drove home like a mad man pulled his brother from the shop to Vincent’s workshop.

“The hell, Les?” Bo asked annoyed. “What the fuck—?”

Lester took off his jacket and the air stood still and cold. Sticking out of his right arm, blue lily buds poked out of his skin as if his arm was a vine. He looked at his brothers as fear grew. “They came this morning,” he said nervously. “It hurts t’loft my arm.”

Bo took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Did ya try cuttin’ ‘em off?” His answer was met with a bloodied, poorly wrapped bandage.

“Bo… ‘m scared.”

The twins looked at each other then back at Lester. There was pain in Lester’s eyes as he held back a cough. Vincent looked at his arm then his blood ran cold. He watched as a blue lily bloomed over his elbow.

“Oh, shit,” Bo breathed as the flower opened up. “Les, what’s happenin’ to ya?”

“I-I don’t know,” he answered scared. “It-it— ‘m hurtin’ and it burns!”

“It started after ya kissed ‘at boy, righ?” Bo asked, his mind spinning. “Like, the coughing and stuff.”

Lester nodded, slowly starting to put on his jacket. “Reckon so.” Just the thought of you and your pretty eyes eased the burning and pain. The bear idea of you in his arms…

“Okay,” Bo rubbed his hands over his jeans. “We gotta find ‘im.”

“How?” Lester asked in disbelief. “He’s gone by now! Ain’t never comin’ back—arh! Shit!” Les t threw his head back as his brothers watched in horror as a flower bud bloomed on his left shoulder. Lester staggered back, held his arm, and rested again the hot wall.

Bo shook his head as he reached with his little brother. “We’ll find him.”

Vincent nodded as he stood next to Lester. ‘I wrote down his plate while he was hanging out with you upstairs. Maybe we can find him that way.’ He lowered his hands and dug into his apron. He pulled out his journal and flipped the pages until stopping on one plate number circled in blue ink. ‘This is him. I remember it.’ Vincent handed the notebook to Lester.

Lester looked over the number and nodded. Reading it sent butterflies in his stomach. Your smile and you beautiful eyes and pearls on you. He love the idea.

All there is to do now is find you.

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

You stood in your empty apartment and looked around. Boxes were piled in your car and you already sold half your things. You wanted to leave this place because you knew where to go. It’s crazy how you kissed Lester and wanted him to come with you, but it was even crazier when you thought about how you were going back to find him.

To you, you felt like you had to find him once more and kiss him. You had to find him. He felt so… so familiar to you. What were you going to do afterwards? You didn’t know. You just knew he needed you like you needed him.

It felt like you planted roots over his lips. Like flowers bloomed around your soul and over your torn pearls until there wasn’t nothing left of you. You have to find him… you have to.

As you came out of your apartment went down the steps to your car, you froze. That man that tried to kill you was parked next to your car. He wore a worn blue shirt with a faded graphic on it and dark blue jeans. His blue eyes landed on you and he stiffened a little. His hand held the ring on his finger as his boots clicked towards you. He didn’t look mad or angry; he seemed nervous.

“Mister,” he said as he stood a couple feet away from you. He fixed his hat and stood straighter. “I… I don’t believe I properly introduced myself.” He swallowed hard and held out his hand. “Name’s Bo, Bo Sinclair.”

You looked at his hand then at him, taking it. “Y/n.” You stepped back and hugged your arms. “Come to finish the job?”

“What?” Bo shook his head as a sad smile grew. “No, no, sir. I came in hopes t’get ya.”

“Yeah?”

He takes a deep breath. “My brother, Lester,” he hates begging, he hates it, “he needs yer help.”

“My help?”

“Yes, sir.” Bo looks at your car then at you. “Movin’?”

“Hoping to find Lester, actually,” you felt something burning your throat before you started coughing. Ever since you left him, you started coughing more and more. You turned away from Bo and coughed in your arm.

Stumbling back, Bo caught you and rested you against his chest until—

“What the shit?” You breathed. Shakingly, you held out your hand and looked at the bloodied daisy. You looked up at Bo in terror as his eyes widen.

Without a moment to lose, he led you to his truck. “Look, ‘ll gettcha to ‘im.”

“Now?”

“Yes,” he helped you into his truck and slid over the hood of his truck. “He has the same thin’ as ya, but he has blue lilies blooming out his arm now.” He started the truck and sped back to Ambrose. It’s a twenty minute drive, so that’ll give him plenty of time to tell you what’s going on.

“It sounds like Hanahaki Disease,” you hummed as you started coughing again.

“Hanahaki Disease?” He looked at you then at the road. “The fuck’s that?”

“A disease where flowers bloom over a person on an one sided love.”

“Well? Do ya love my brother?”

“I feel like we’re soulmates that were force to part after kissing, yes,” you answered as you leaned back in the seat. “My grandmother had that happened when she and grandpa were force apart after he kissed her before going to war.”

“What?” Bo looked at the bloodied daisies in your hands and lap. “It a family thin’?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “That’s way it’s important to stay with your soulmate. Didn’t your mom tell you?”

“She’s dead,” Bo answered as he turned down the gravel road leading towards Ambrose. “Never told us shit besides we ain’t worth lovin’.”

His voice was cut off by your throwing up on the flower of his truck. Petals and daisy buds fell from your lips as blood poured from the corner of your lips. Bo gunned it and flew towards town. “How we make this shit stop!?”

“I gotta kiss him,” breathing heavily, you looked at Bo, “and he has to tell me he loves me.” Your eyes glazed as you looked at the road. You thought of Lester and the pearls you left behind. You thought of his lips and loving kiss. The click and hold he had on you… it ate you alive.

Bo pressed out the gas and came into Ambrose as if he was flying a firecracker. What you saw as you rounded the corner broke your heart, and you felt a bouquet of daisies blooming around your legs.

In the middle of the road at the end of the street, Lester laid in his brother’s arms. He was struggling to breathe as blue lilies covered his arms and over his left eye. He was worse than you thought and he was fading fast. When he saw you in the passenger seat, his smile grew. Your here… you came back.

Bo slammed on the breaks and skidded until the car stopped. You hoped out of the car and race towards Lester. Inside, you felt a vine creep up your throat and you gasped, falling to the ground. You tumbled and skidded and struggle to stand. Flowers wrapped around your feet and knees; you couldn’t stand by yourself.

You felt Bo lift up and carry you towards Lester, large hands wrapping you up in a strong grip. “I have ya, firefly,” he promises.

His hand reached out for you as his breathing became shallow. Flowers bloomed over your body like wild fires in the summer. You thought of him, thought of his kiss and voice. You needed him like he needed you.

He focused on your neck and watched as a daisy blood out of your neck. "Hang in there, doll," Bo whispered. "Keep your eyes open. Keep breathing."

Bo lowered you carefully next to Lester and as close as he could get to him. “Yer-you’re here,” Lester crooked with a smile. His hand found yours. “Ya came-came back.”

You tried to sit up, but Bo helped you. “Les, ya gotta kiss ‘im,” he whispered. “It’ll stop all of ‘is.”

You tired to nod but you felt flowers blooming. “Please, Lester?” To say his name again felt like heaven opening for you. “Kiss me, please?”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Gripping his hand, he kisses you lips. You tasked blood on his lips. As you pulled away, Lester brought you back for another passionate kiss. He felt as if his heart was whole again and the world made sense. He chocks on lilies as he held your face, taking in your beauty as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

“I love you, Lester,” you whispered, breaking the curse on him. You watched as the blue lilies died as soon as you said those words. The flowers fell to the road, leaving behind flower outlines on his skin. You smile as you saw him light up. “You look as cute as the day I left ya.”

Lester smiled as he kisses you knuckles, kissing the daises and blood. “I love ya more, pearl,” his eyes met yours as he watched the flowers fall off your skin. “I love you.”

Daisies dropped on the road as he kisses you again. He rested his head against your forehead and closed his eyes. “What’s yer name, daisy?”

“Y/n,” you answered. “I’m y/n.”

With Vincent’s help, Lester dug into his pockets and showed you the broken pearls. “Held on to ‘em fer ya.”

You smiled as you leaned again Bo. You were tired from it all, but you knew one thing for certain.

“Can I move in with you?”

Lester chuckled and kissed your hands again. “Never leave me again.”

You met his eyes as you felt that click again, knowing you found your soulmate. “I promise, my pearl. I promise.”

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visceravalentines · 2 years

Text

A Matching Set of Spoons

Poly!Sinclairs x GN!Reader

Rating: Teen (SFW, lots of swearing and some mention of sexual activity)

Length: 1.1k

CW: none, just that sweet sweet fluff

I wrote this in a rush last night and it gave me so many goddamn feelings I had to share it right now. Bo can't sleep. Turns out he's not the only one.

Tagging a few moots who deserve special Sinclair cuddles! (Happy to untag you, just lmk.)

@cypressnmarigolds, @ajokeformur-ray, @moon-of-desire, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @wasteofanarrow, @slasherlouvre, @papikuai, @myersmeadowarchive

Some nights, the Sandman skipped right over Ambrose.

This was one of those nights. Bo lay spreadeagled in his bed, the comforter discarded long ago, the top sheet tangled around one of his legs. He wanted a cigarette. He wanted a sandwich. He wanted to go the fuck to sleep, but that was evidently out of the question.

The moon was blinding, sneaking through the curtains to fall directly on his face. He was too hot, too cold, Goldilocks all over. Maybe he needed a drink. Maybe he needed a fuck. He thought of you in the room down the hall.

Surely you were asleep. You had to be; it was the middle of the night. Any reasonable individual would be asleep at this hour. But what if you weren’t? What if you were also tossing and turning, alone in your bed, that t-shirt of his you stole to sleep in riding up a little higher every time you rolled over?

Goddamn, he had it bad. He was half-hard already.

Bo ran a hand through his wavy locks. It couldn’t hurt to go check. Just to see if you were asleep or not. If you were, he’d leave you be. Maybe he’d snuggle up to you for a while, see if that lulled him into dreamland. But if you weren’t….

He sat up, swung out of bed, adjusted himself in his boxers. In the light of the moon, he picked through the maze of shoes and laundry that carpeted his bedroom floor. Probably he should do something about that soon. Bo pulled his door open and peeked into the hallway, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.

Your room was down at the end of the hall. He crept towards it, trying to be silent. When Jonesy wasn’t in the basement with Vincent she slept with you, and the last thing he wanted was to spook her.

A creak from the staircase behind him spooked him so badly he nearly jumped out of his skin. Bo spun around, fist cocked, ready to break someone’s face. His brain froze, malfunctioned as it tried to make sense of the hulking, hairy shape shambling up the stairs, lit by a weak and flickering light, some literal actual boogeyman in his motherfucking house except it looked a lot like –

“Vinny?” he hissed, peering into the black. “What the fuck are you doin’?”

His twin shuffled toward him, cupping a candle poured into a small mason jar in one hand. Vincent signed lazily with one hand, Same to you. It’s 2 AM.

“I know it’s 2 AM. Why are you creepin’ around the house like a damn haint?”

Vincent flipped him off.

Bo rolled his eyes. “Well you scared the bejeezus outta me so that feels like my business.”

Vincent pressed the candle to his bare chest with a forearm so he could sign with both hands. The sweatpants he wore to bed were hanging off his hips. Maybe I felt like an evening stroll. It gets hot downstairs.

“Well, grab an ice cube and shove it up your ass, maybe that’ll help.”

Now it was Vinny’s turn to roll his eye. What’s your excuse, you piss the bed again?

Bo scowled. “I was just goin’ to check on [y/n]. Thought I heard a sound comin’ from their room, that’s all.”

Vincent slowly tilted his head, eyeing his brother. …you horny bastard.

“Hey now. Don’t you go gettin’ the wrong idea.”

It’s got.

“I am tryin’ to protect this house, and here you are accusin’ me of indecent behavior.”

I can see your damn dick.

“Fuck off, Vinny. Evenin’ stroll my ass. You were sneakin’ up here hopin’ for a little action yourself, admit it.”

I would never.

“You sure as hell would, we have the same brain, asshole.”

Shhh, you’re going to wake them up.

“Now wouldn’t that be a shame. Don’t change the subject, Vin.”

I am not discussing my sex life with you.

“Ooh, did you hear that? That was an admission. Besides, I already know all about your sex life.”

“Guys?”

The sound of your drowsy voice from the other side of the door froze their bickering. Bo glared at Vincent, who glared back and waved at his brother to open the door. He obliged, and both twins peered into the room. You sat up, hair messy, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Jonesy lifted her head from her place at the foot of your bed.

“Hey, darlin’, did we wake you? Sorry ‘bout that.”

“What’s…going on?”

“Nothin’, just…havin’ a friendly family dispute.”

“…in the middle of the night?”

“No time like the present.”

On your far side, a lump stirred in the bed, and Lester appeared from underneath the covers, squinting at his brothers. “What the hell is this, a surprise party?”

Bo and Vinny at the same time said, “Lester?”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

“This is fuckin’ stupid,” Bo complained. “You’re not even supposed to be home ‘til tomorrow.”

“Cry me a river, honeysuckle.”

“Okay, okay, everybody…calm down.” You shook your head. “What do you guys need?”

Bo wanted to –

Bo shoved Vincent. “We couldn’t sleep. We thought you…might be up.”

“Well, I am now.”

Both twins winced. Sorry about that.

Peace was a thing of the past. You sighed, slumped forward, patted the mattress next to you. “Come on in.”

Are you sure? Vinny said as Bo shoved past him without hesitation, making a beeline for the bed.

You gave him a sleepy smile. “Yeah, get over here.”

Lester squawked as Bo bodyslammed him. “I did not consent to this!”

“You consented to it when you was born last.”

“Bullshit.”

“Bo, you’re gonna kick Jonesy!”

“Sorry, darlin’.”

Vincent hiked up his sweats and set the candle on your bedside table. He sank down onto the mattress and curled up on your left, settling in as littlest spoon. You tucked in against the smooth skin of his back. Lester buried his face in your hair and Bo, the biggest spoon, snuggled up tight against his youngest brother, reaching an arm across to rest his hand on your hip. Jonesy grumbled, scootched back into a comfortable position with her head on Vincent’s feet, and fell asleep almost immediately.

One big disaster family.

“Goodnight, y’all,” Bo whispered.

“Bo, is that your dick?” Lester exclaimed.

“Shhhh,” you giggled.

Vincent blew out the candle.

#house of wax fanfiction #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair fanfiction #vincent sinclair fanfiction #lester sinclair fanfiction #slasher x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #jonesy sinclair #poly sinclairs

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adalwolfgang · 9 months

Note

S/O flirting with Sinclair brothers

Thank you and love you💜💜💜

Sinclair brothers reaction to being flirted with.

Warning: These reactions are from my viewpoint on the characters and their backstory in the movie. So I tried making their reactions as real and accurate as possible.

Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner(s)

Beaugard (Bo) Sinclair : 8.3/10

Caught off guard

“Now hold on a damn minute. I’m supposed to be the smooth talker!”

He isn’t opposed to the idea of someone flirting back at him, especially if you’re a tourist since that just tells him you’ve taken the bait of him just being a charmer. But now if you’re both together? He pouts, trying his best to hide his warm face. It’s not that he doesn’t like you flirting with him, it’s just he doesn’t like the idea of someone getting a reaction out of him. Especially when it comes to flirting. He much prefers when he can make you a hot mess and turn into a puddle.

Lester Sinclair : 8/10

Flattered

“Aw, yer makin’ me blush!”

He loves the attention. Both his parents never gave him the attention like Bo and Vincent got so to get it from someone now? He’s lovestruck. If you’re a tourist and quickly start flirting with him, he’ll get on his knees begging Bo to let him keep you. All the tourists he’s encountered were nothing but rude and disrespectful towards him. But you flirting with him and showing interest? Sign him up. Now, that being said. If you two are already together and you start flirting with him. He acts like a school girl. It’s flirty banter back and forth between the two of you as both of y’all’s faces get warmer with each word.

Vincent Sinclair : 9/10

Extremely flattered

Vincent was always reassured by his mother that he was a handsome boy. Hell, he knew good and well she favored him over all 3 of them. When you first met, finding him in the wax museum while your group was off getting killed doing who knows what, you started praising his work and also his looks. Complimenting his hair, his clothes, and his mask. By the time you ran out of things to compliment him on, he was a flustered mess under his mask. Quickly he decided that you would live since he so longed craved for that praise that his mother used to give him. Now, just like with the other two, if y’all were both already together and you started flirting with him, he’d crave more. He wouldn’t want you to stop flirting. He enjoys the attention. He’s been raised with having all the attention on him due to his mother babying him til her death so to get attention from you? He’s struck gold.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slashers x reader #house of wax (2005)#house of wax fanfiction #house of wax fanfic #house of wax x reader #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #reader insert #x reader #bo sinclair house of wax #lester sinclair house of wax #vincent sinclair house of wax #sinclair brothers x reader

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c0ntraversial-h0rr0r-c0ntent · 2 months

Text

Sinclair Brothers NSFW headcanons

[lots of possessiveness, mommy kink (mentioned once), assorted Sinclair Brother problems] GN

☆ Bo Sinclair ☆

The kinkiest of the three (though if you’re reading this you probably got turned on by the glue scene, so it’d probably a good match, though maybe I’m projecting), either wants you to call him Sir or Daddy, possibly depending on the day

Any way to show his ownership of you, he loves. Hickies, bruises, he’d love to put you in a collar, really he just needs to show everyone you’re his. Especially signs of casual dominance, like smacking your ass when he walks by you are wrapping his arms around you when you’re busy and telling you how good you’re being—anything to reinforce that you’re his possession

Once he really really gets to know you and trust you though, biggest mommy kink ever. Just wants to have his mommy tell him he’s doing so so good

☆ Vincent Sinclair ☆

(Who is not the sensitive tortured artist that everyone for some reason thinks he is)

Doesn’t have the patience to tell you or show you how he wants you to move, so he usually positions you. Not just when you’re having sex, he’ll often pick you up wherever you are and carry you down to the basement if he wants company.

His favorite thing is when you wear his clothing—he’s as possessive as Bo (though less toxically) and seeing his clothes on you makes him feel you’re his partner, and he loves it when you ride him in one of his shirts or jackets. He slips his fingers up to hold your hips and help you rock back and forth on him.

Likes to put you up against the wall if you’re sucking him, he likes to be able to prop himself against it and roll his hips into you—never too hard or fast, just slow and deep

☆ Lester Sinclair ☆

He likes to fuck you in his truck or on a picnic blanket in a secluded part of the woods—he shares the house with his brothers and everything in Ambrose has a hint of Bo or Vincent, but the time in his truck or out in the woods, that’s just you and him

So touch starved. He needs to have his hands on you the entire time you’re together and sex isn’t an exception. If you have the space to lay down, he likes you on your side in front of him so he can thrust into you while keeping his arms around you and his face in the crook of your neck, smelling you and kissing you and telling you how good you feel. If you’re in the truck he wants you on his lap kissing him while he fucks up into you.

Absolutely melts at any praise and if you throw in a “good boy”, oh he’s cumming in his pants

#slasher fanfiction #slasher fucker #slasher x you #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #house of wax

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sunkendreams · 4 months

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Ok hear me out bc this has been in my mind for a minute. Lester secretly toying and touching reader in the truck while someone is standing outside the truck, be it Bo, some potential victim I just feel like he is the type

heatstroke.

( lester sinclair x fem!reader. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lester sinclair x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓: one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.3K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT! (mdni), public sex, risky location, vaginal fingering, fingering (f!feceiving), fingerfucking, spit as lube, dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, very mild coercion, lester is a bit of a pervert, bo sinclair cameo, obsessive/slightly creepy behavior from lester

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: listen ,,, you were onto something incredible when you requested this, this was so hot to write you don’t understand !!! lester is criminally underrated aaaaand this was so much hornier than I thought it’d be !! hope y’all enjoy! ❤️

TAGLIST: @freyjasfenrir ; @darklylucid ; @chaotichellscape ; @kiki-dohedo ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @milland ; @the-anxious-youth ; @nastymensimp

Summertime in Louisiana was akin to setting fire in a desert — humidity on top of an acrid, stifling heat. You didn’t have a clue as to why your friends dragged you all the way out here under the false pretense of a camping trip. In all actuality, they wanted to visit this town that wasn’t listed on any map — Ambrose.

The journey itself was treacherous, going through thick, endless woodlands, marshlands, and bogs before coming towards the town. It was just around the bend, a large chunk of the road missing, now consumed by swampwater, jagged rocks, and erosion. Your friend was confident that he could maneuver his truck through it — boy, was he wrong.

“It won’t make it,” Josie chimed, standing beside you as the both of you watched a pair of young men attempt to push the truck through the wash. The truck unceremoniously came to a grinding, screeching halt, tires partially buried within the mud. “Idiots.”

You kept quiet, idly smoothing your palms across the little, floral sundress you wore. You certainly weren’t dressed for camping — you had no interest. Going to Ambrose was supposed to be a ‘day out on the town’, with your desire being to look at small shops and simply enjoy the atmosphere.

“Maybe we should call somebody,” You piped up, nervously wringing your hands together. “There has to be a tow truck around, you think?” Anxiousness blossomed within the pit of your stomach, giving you a feeling of uncertainty. You wished that they would’ve just listened and tried to drive around it.

“Cut the shit, we don’t need a tow truck.” Josie’s boyfriend, Tate, growled in protest. Admittedly, you had no idea why you were out here in the staggering heat with these three. Tate and Josie had been your friends since high school, but Cody, the third boy, was simply here out of devotion to Josie. You were confident that there was something else going on.

Josie shot you an apologetic glance, but you had enough of watching them push at a truck that wasn’t moving anywhere whatsoever. With a begrudging sigh, you started down the dirt path in the direction of Ambrose, carefully stepping across rocks to avoid caking your boots in a layer of viscous mud.

“Where are you going?” Josie called out, and you simply waved your hand at her, dismissive of her concerns. You were sick and tired of being around the trio, anyway. A walk and a bit of fresh air would do you a world of good.

“Going to town to find somebody.” You replied, and continued walking, crossbody purse slung over your frame as you made the short trek into town. It seemed exceptionally lively — plenty of stores, the chattering ambiance of a quaint neighborhood, and vintage, neon signs that pointed you toward your destination.

You were delighted to discover the gas station and mechanic shop, which already seemed to be inhabited by someone. An old, beat-up pickup truck sat by the gas pumps, back of the bed shoddily cleaned-out, save for a few remnants of roadkill and animal bones. There was an ‘L. S.’ carved into the worn metal above the back wheel, which you curiously traced your fingers over.

The hot sun blistered down upon you, making it stifling due to the now-faded asphalt you stood upon. You quickly ducked underneath the shaded cover of the gas station, almost colliding into someone when you rounded the front of the truck.

“Oh!” You gasped, chest tight with a momentary lapse of fear. “I’m so sorry!” The energy you carried was akin to that of a nervous nelly, clearly unnerved by her surroundings. You felt horrible for running into some innocent bystander — the owner of the truck, you figured.

You were met with the skeptical, hazel-eyed gaze of a man who reminded you of a possum. Rugged, scraggly, and clearly meant for the woodlands. He straightened his hat out, head cocking to one side when he peered down at you — prettiest thing he’d seen in ages. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, sugar! Guess I wasn’t watchin’ where I was goin’, neither.”

His voice bore that native Southern dialect, but he didn’t sound hostile whatsoever. When you finally got a good look at him, he seemed scrappy — maybe he lived in Ambrose. A large buck knife was holstered to his hip, neck adorned in a series of chokers and necklaces, decorated in some sort of animal bone.

“Say, what’cha doin’ ‘round here, anyway?” He inquired, leaning against the door of his truck. “Y’look a little lost.” His tone remained friendly, high-spirited, even. He was somewhat grimy, covered in a layer of dewy perspiration, wiping his hands off on a damp cloth.

“My friends and I were coming up here to visit the town, but our truck got stuck in that patch of marsh just around the bend,” You sighed, somewhat agitated with the whole scenario. If they would’ve listened to you, the truck would be just fine and not tire-deep in the mud. “I was just looking for some help.”

There was a sparkling in his eyes, a peculiar glittering that intrigued you to no end. A chuckle escaped him, finding humor in the situation. “They should’a jus’ drove ‘round.” He mused, and you had to laugh, even if it was a bitter sound. You kept your hands tucked together, idly fiddling with the strap of your purse.

Your expression was somewhat amused, lips twitching into a sardonic smile. “That’s what I said,” You sighed, happy to be away from the oppressive glare of the midday sun. “Either way, we’re stuck. Do you know if there’s a tow truck around here, or someone who could help?” You asked.

He grinned — a toothy, wolfish grin. Lester wasn’t blessed with Bo’s natural handsomeness, but he certainly had the personality to offset it all. He liked that you smiled and laughed along with him, didn’t treat him like backwoods trash, either. “M’brother’s got a tow truck! Bet he’d help ya out! Why don’t I give ‘im a call?”

Finally — your savior.

Relief rippled through you as you nodded several times over, rifling through your purse to unveil a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Here,” You insisted. “For the call and for your help. I can’t thank you enough.” You nodded, but the man simply pushed your hand away.

Being around you was a reward in itself — and once his brothers took care of your friends, you would be his prize in all of this. He couldn’t have been any happier with how all of this was progressing. Lester opened up the driver’s side door, grabbing a rather shoddy-looking flip-phone. He was still trying to figure these things out.

One call to Bo later, and his older brother was coming out with the tow-truck and all of that oozing charm, like a shepherd leading the flock to the slaughter. Lester insisted that he keep you out of it — you were sweet, he could tell.

He liked that.

“He’s on his way,” Lester chimed, swiveling around to face you again. He stuck out his hand in greeting. “M’Lester, by th’way! It’s real nice to meet you, sugar. Say, if you’re bakin’ in the sun, could sit in m’truck with me while the rest do the heavy liftin’.” The offer was absolutely tempting to you.

You reached out, introducing yourself with a charming grin and another burst of bubbly laughter. “It’s nice to meet you, Lester. Thank you so much for all of your help, again. You’re an angel.” He was very kind and upbeat — Jesus, you even found him to be cute. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother.”

Lester grinned again, completely and utterly enamored with you as he waved a hand towards the truck. “I’m real sure, promise! Don’t want that pretty little face of yours t’melt right off. You can sit with me while Bo works his magic.” He insisted, opening up the door as a sign of invitation.

A pleasant wave of heat flooded throughout your body — and while you thought it was from the weather, it was from Lester’s subtle flirtation. You couldn’t help but giggle, nose wrinkling in amusement as you climbed up into his truck. Lester stood behind you, shamelessly admiring the way your dress fit you, from lovely curves to the faintest glimpse of your thighs.

As you crawled into the cabin, you noticed the morbid array of bone and rope dangling from the top mirror. The inside smelled of stale blood, damp dirt, and the faint scent of cigarettes. You folded one leg over the other, swiping away a thin layer of sweat that built up along the back of your neck.

A tow truck came soaring down the road, rickety and beat-up. The driver wore a mechanic’s uniform and a ball cap — you assumed it was Bo, the man Lester was referring to. “M’gonna drive us back down to the bend. No reason for you t’walk.” He mused, hopping in beside you as he started the engine.

The truck roared to life, and Lester maneuvered the vehicle out of the gas station, whipping it back around to approach the swampy wash where your caravan had gotten stuck at.

“Have you lived here your whole life?” You asked, head canting to one side. You leaned up against the door, palm tucked underneath your chin. Whenever you weren’t looking, you were completely oblivious to Lester’s constant ogling of your body.

He kept one hand perched atop the patchwork, leather-covered steering wheel, the other resting along the edge of the window. “Mostly,” Lester piped up, letting out a low whistle. “Ambrose ain’t on the map. Hard for anybody to come out this way without lookin’ real close.” He replied, truck slugging along at a crawl.

“It’s pretty out here,” You hummed, tracing a finger along the dashboard, collecting a layer of dust in the process. “I wouldn’t want to leave. You’ve got everything you need here in town. It’s peaceful.” When you adjusted your position, your dress hitched just a little higher.

“Yer welcome t’stay, if y’like it so much.” Lester mused, which got you to laugh. As tempting as it sounded, nestled away within the Louisiana wilderness, you knew that your friends would go against it. “They even got a beauty pageant, Miss Ambrose.”

Intrigued, you cocked your head to one side, letting out another giggle as you peered outside towards the forests. “A beauty pageant? I’ve never done one of those before. I’m sure I’d have plenty of competition.” You sighed, idly fiddling with the hem of your sundress. The jean jacket you were wearing over it only made you nearly collapse from heatstroke.

Lester grinned, a playful chuckle escaping him. “Naw, I think you’d win th’whole thing.” He was really laying on the compliments and old-fashioned charm, driving the truck down the path and around the bend. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen ‘round here!” Singing your praises was one way to get you flustered.

This was the last thing you ever expected, being hit on by a rugged stranger you’d just met. Nevertheless, the attention you were receiving was amazing, something you weren’t used to. “You’re really sweet.” You accepted the compliment without retort, idly preening your fingers over the top of your head.

By the time you’d gotten back to the wash, Lester’s brother was sitting in the cab of the tow-truck, attempting to haul the other vehicle out of the mud. You waved at your friend from the window as he put it into park, letting it idle. Josie and Tate happened to use it as something to lean on, but Lester didn’t say anything to protest.

“Ain’t you jus’ gorgeous?” Lester crooned, pinching the hem of your dress between his thumb and forefinger. Your skin felt abnormally hot, like a fever as you shifted in your seat, visibly sheepish to the man’s seemingly harmless flirting. “Real nice dress, too.”

“Thanks,” You mumbled, ducking your head as his knuckles innocently brushed over the top of your thigh. Goosebumps erupted in his wake, causing you to shiver as you averted your gaze. “Maybe I should get out and see if everything’s okay.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Lester cocked his head to one side, eyes glittering with something indiscernible. The rough, calloused pads of his fingertips traced over your thigh. “Y’sure, sugar? I was thinkin’ you could stay here with me,” He mused, lips spitting into a toothy smirk. “Could make it worth yer while.” His voice was sickly-sweet, like honey.

Something hung heavy in the air — suffocating heat coupled with the flurry of tension crackling within the cab of Lester’s truck. Admittedly, you were more aroused than you should’ve been, given how forward and crass this was, but there was certainly a thrill in it.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stealing another glance outside the window. Your friends were just outside of the truck — if you made too much noise or squirmed, they would notice. “What if somebody sees?” You whimpered, feeling a rush of oozing warmth coalesce between your thighs.

“Looks you’ll have t’be real quiet,” Lester hummed, hand prodding at your dress again. “Why don’t you go on an’ lift that up for me, gorgeous?” You shouldn’t have been this riled up and turned on for a complete stranger, but he was tempting — maybe it was his kind demeanor coupled with lust. You weren’t sure.

A fluttering sensation erupted throughout the pit of your stomach, prompting you to shift your thighs together as you began to shyly tug your dress up. Lester had subtly shifted closer, shorter than an arm’s length distance as you let some of the fabric pool around your hips.

There was some sick thrill you got with this, buried deep down — in hindsight, you shouldn’t have been entertaining this, but Lester seemed more than willing. You glanced toward the window, breath hitching when Josie glanced back at you with a puzzled expression.

To quell her concern, you swiftly gave her a thumbs-up, perspiration creeping along your spine as you subtly shifted a little closer to your new friend. His soft snickering filled the cab, calloused palm gingerly kneading into your thigh.

“Nice n’soft,” Lester mumbled, Southern drawl dropping to a hushed octave. “Y’feel like velvet.” His compliment made you shiver with anticipation, legs parting as you shyly began to ruck the skirt of your dress up. He leaned in, giving your hair a sniff — you smelled sweet, like a fresh bouquet of honeyed flowers.

You swallowed the lump within your throat, angling yourself a little more in his direction, enough to remain inconspicuous. Lester traced his hand along your thigh, drinking in the feeling of your velveteen complexion underneath his fingertips.

Without missing a beat, you sluggishly placed your hand atop his, guiding it toward the heat coalescing between your legs. Lester appeared surprised, cracking another bemused grin as you let his fingers settle along the waistband of your panties. You were desperate, wriggling atop the sticky leather beneath you.

Your fingers curled into the seat, chest tight with a familiar fluttering once his fingers finally crossed the threshold, slipping beneath the thin, cotton material. He nudged your legs further apart, deliberately stroking at your cunt, toying with you just a little bit. “D’aw,” He crooned. “That all fer me?”

Part of you wanted to simply melt into a pile of nothingness, lips parted as a sweet moan escaped you. His touches were tantalizing, feather-light and leaving you aching for more. “Y—Yeah,” You sighed, keeping your voice low as Lester pushed past your folds, two digits beginning to glide against your cunt. “Keep going.” You mewled.

Lester rarely, if ever, did anything like this.

Admittedly, once he saw you, that beautiful beam of sunshine, he had to have you — he wanted to keep you for himself, too. Your willingness to let him touch you made you all the more tempting, something to be coveted, worshiped. Lester would do it all for you if you’d let him.

Quietly, he obeyed your breathy command, ministrations becoming more vigorous. His fingers were erratic and choppy, sloppily sliding across your cunt with a fervor. You didn’t care, lulled into submission by the myriad of sensations, pleasure rippling throughout your stomach.

Your gaze occasionally flickered toward the outside of the truck, but your worry of getting caught was steadily subsiding. Lester’s calloused digits glided along your slit, moving up until they found that clutch of sensitive nerves buried between your thighs. His thumb sluggishly circled your clit, causing your hips to jolt forward.

“S’at feel nice?” His drawl had dropped into a husked purr, voice wrought with desperation. Lester liked having this level of control over you, but he enjoyed seeing your reactions even more. Embarrassment washed through you, knowing how insane this scenario seemed.

A sweet whimper tore past your lips, and you nodded your head, attempting to keep the gesture subtle. You wanted more, shifting your thighs together to relieve some tension until Lester prodded you with his knee. He began to rub at your clit, prompting you to press the back of your hand over your mouth.

Lester snickered, swatting your hand away. “Don’t keep those sounds from me, sugar. You’re jus’ so pretty like this.” He murmured, causing you to bite at your lower lip. Your thighs shook, cunt throbbing and oozing with liquid heat as he continued to touch you.

There was a thump against the front of the truck, nearly making you leap out of your own flesh, hastily covering your lap with your jean jacket. It was just Cody, huffing and puffing as Lester’s brother continued to try and pull the truck out of the mud.

“W—We should probably stop,” You whimpered, voice low and hushed, attempting to grab at his wrist, but Lester stopped you. “Lester, please.” The terror of being caught outweighed pleasure, but he shushed you, tugging you just a little closer, until you were nearly leg-to-leg in the cab.

“Jus’ keep quiet, sweetheart. They ain’t gonna catch us, swear.” He reassured you, coercing you into a more docile state — admittedly, he really wanted to make you cum on his fingers. Lester was hellbent to receive that from you, whether you protested or not.

As much as your mind screamed at you to stop, you wanted to keep going. You nodded, still keeping the jacket tucked within your lap, but Lester nudged it aside, wanting to watch everything. Your dress was all disheveled and ruffled around your hips, panties halfway down your thighs.

You began to squirm, hips jolting and spasming into the sensation of his hand, nails digging into the old, cracked leather of the truck’s frayed cushions. Your mind stopped worrying so much, submitting to basic desire and instinct, letting pleasure hold the reins as he flicked his thumb around your clit.

Honey-sweet arousal pooled between your legs, coating Lester’s digits in a fine sheen. You almost pleaded for him to come back when he withdrew his hand, watching with complete and utter shock as he licked his fingers, saturated in saliva. The noises he made were crass and somewhat lewd. “Taste jus’as good as y’look.” He murmured.

A molten wave of heat dropped right into the pit of your stomach, prompting you to whimper as his fingers hotly returned to your core. He was vigorous this time, using those spittle-slathered digits to invade your cunt, pushing two fingers inside of you as he began to piston them in and out. His rhythm was intense, and you nearly clamped your thighs together.

Your limbs felt heavy, weighed-down by the waves of ecstasy that consume you, as if dragging you down to the bottom of an ocean. You can barely distinguish what’s happening outside of the truck — you don’t care anymore, either.

This stranger fingerfucking you in his cab is all you can concentrate on.

Another soft, throaty moan escaped you, tearing past your parted lips as you rolled your hips sporadically, in-tandem with the motion of his fingers. They pushed inward, nearly knuckle-deep inside of your cunt before dragging out halfway, only to ram right back in. You sighed, pleasure scrawled all over your face.

Lester kept a watchful eye out, knowing that Bo would take his sweet time, damage your friend’s truck in the process. He was happy to have snatched you up when he did, gaze flickering toward you. Your body was contorted with delight, a glistening sheen of perspiration shimmering along your collarbone.

Tension crackled through the air, and you were none the wiser to Lester’s little plot to keep you. His thumb toyed and circled your clit, pouring fuel on the fire as your hips bucked forward again. “M’close,” You whimpered through the dizzying carnality, knuckles tense and tight as you clawed at the seat. “Oh, Lester! S—Shit, please don’t stop!” You squeaked.

He was enthralled, as if trained to obey your every wish. He didn’t slow down, keeping the same pace, fingers scissoring in and out of your weeping cunt. The thick scent of arousal hung heavy in the cab, intermingled with that of fresh earth and a coppery twang from the blood of roadkill, baking away in the back of the truck.

The thin straps of your pretty dress began to sag upon your shoulders, giving way to the faintest glimpse of your breast. If it weren’t for the oblivious audience outside of the truck, Lester would’ve been sucking on your chest. Instead, he settled for a brief peek of your heaving tits, and nothing more.

When the truck rattled, you barely paid it any mind — just your friends sagging against it. Lester snickered, opting to add a third finger, if it were a possibility. “Can y’handle another, sugar? Yer almost there.” He whispered, and when your friend began to step back towards the passenger door for shade, your eyes went as wide as saucers.

Again, Lester silenced your worry with the softest coos and gentle shushes, thumb working away at your clit as he attempted to wriggle a third digit inside of you. You were all wound up, chasing after your orgasm as you turned your face away, skin feverishly hot, as if you’d been scorched by the Louisiana sunshine.

As soon as Lester’s fingers rocked into your cunt for the umpteenth time, curling just slightly, you were gone — wasting away in a white-hot explosion. The tension within your stomach unfurled as you coated his digits in your slick nectar, huffing and puffing as you attempted to compose yourself.

“Lester, Lester,” The breathy, hushed way in which you whimpered his name made him want to devour you. Your cunt clenched pathetically around his fingers as he withdrew them, watching the tension unfurl from your body. You looked embarrassed and downright flustered, having made a mess of his seat. “M’sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lester cajoled, grinning a toothy, bemused smile as he began to lick his fingers clean. “Don’t gotta apologize none for that. Jus’ do it again sometime.” He teased, watching as you hastily covered your lap with your jean jacket when your friend thumped a hand against the window.

“Hey, we’re going up to this guy’s house. He said he has a tire that we can borrow, one on the truck is flat. Are you coming?” Josie asked, ogling Lester with skepticism and a high degree of disgust, too.

You gasped, heart pounding erratically in your chest. As you opened your mouth to answer, Lester interjected on your behalf.

“Yer friend here is goin’ through a bad wave of heatstroke. I’m gonna drive ‘er back t’my place an’ get her some water. It’s a cabin ‘long the path, you can’t miss it.” Lester confirmed, but Josie looked at you for an answer instead.

You nodded several times over, mustering up a smile after having experienced one of the best highs of your life. Pretending that you hadn’t let him touch you just moments ago made you feel strange. “I’ll be alright, Josie. You guys can meet me at his place once the truck is all fixed up.”

Josie nodded and reluctantly moved away from the window, joining Tate and Cody as the three of them followed Bo towards the tow truck. You were impervious and oblivious to the fact that this would be the last time you would ever see your friends alive.

Fortunately for Lester, he had other intentions.

He started the truck again, peering toward you with a twinkle in his eye — it wasn’t the same high-spirited, innocuous man you’d encountered at the gas station. This gleam was different — obsessive, possessive, and absolutely enamored with you.

“Why don’t we see what we can do about this heatstroke of yours, sugar?”

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

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