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loveandmurders · 5 months

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You belong to Ambrose II (poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Hello everyone! First, I really want to thank you all for the love you gave to the first part of this story (that you can find here). 😍🥰

It made me so happy but also very anxious about this next part haha! I planned 3 parts in total (a fourth maybe, if you ask for it), and I do hope you'll enjoy this series as much as you did at first <3 <3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of stalking, kidnapping and murders, morally grey reader, reader getting angry, sad and feeling guilty, some strong words, dark!brothers, very brief mentions of sexual desire and activities

Lester was good at following people without them to notice him, even if there was no one else on the road. He knew the roads by heart and his hearing was sharp, so he could guess where a car was without being right behind it. He actually parked near the forest and simply closed his eyes to guess which roads you were taking. He guessed you were at the campsite; a lot of tourists stayed there too. You were making things very easy for him and he thanked his luck. When everything seemed quiet again, he walked through the woods, just to make sure he was right and indeed, he found you sat with your people. You were five in total, but you all looked too gentle and soft to really be a problem for him and his brothers. He watched you, hidden behind a tree. His heart was clenching at the sight of you laughing. Even if it wasn’t with him, just hearing this beautiful sound once again was making him thrilled. He couldn’t wait for his hands to roam your body like they used to either.

He let you eat with your friends and he let you fall asleep under the bright sky full of stars. He saw you chatting a little while with one of the boys of the group and he had to admit he really didn’t like it. He didn’t know if he was your boyfriend or not, but he was definitively jealous. And he would need to talk about it to the twins so they could get rid of the man. Actually, he wanted everyone dead as quickly as possible, because you didn't belong to any of them.

He texted the location to his brothers.

Soon enough, the three men were towering over your group, their whole being finally calming down: you were back in their life and they weren’t going to let you go anymore. They couldn’t believe you were finally there and they didn’t attack your group right away. They wanted to enjoy the calmness written all over your face first. They always thought you were looking like an angel when you were sleeping. Vincent tried to memorise the scene so he could draw your sleeping form under the moon. Bo almost smiled, so relieved you hadn’t disappeared forever. Lester was the only one growing impatient. The twins knew things weren’t going to be too pretty after they kidnapped your group and they didn’t want that. They wanted to go straight to the moment where you would allow them to show you tenderness and to pleasure you. It was going to be so much work, so they wanted to enjoy the peace of the moment.

If only you had never left them; things would have been so much better.

If only you hadn’t decided to camp so close to Ambrose, you would have been safe.

Deep down, you knew you should have asked your friends to drive away as far away as possible, but you didn’t.

Because you didn’t want your friends to worry about anything and to ruin the nice mood.

Because you knew it was useless; the Sinclairs were hunters and they never let go of their prey until they had it.

Because you wanted the brothers to force you back into their lives, even though you would rather die than admit it.

You knew it was over when you woke up, in the middle of the night, feeling watched. You also heard quiet footsteps all over your group. You could have grabbed the little knife you had in your bag, or you could have screamed to wake up everyone, but you didn’t. You simply waited. You didn’t want the Sinclairs to have to hurt your friends or yourself. Maybe especially yourself.

You still jumped when you felt a hand over your mouth and you looked up. You recognised Bo’s touch on you and tried your best to not start crying out of fear. The man shushed you into your ear, before he took into your delicious scent.

“Shh, sweetheart, won’t hurt ya, 'kay? No need to make things difficult” he whispered to you and you nodded which made him smile “Atta girl” he praised you.

It was then you noticed two shadows moving over your friends. You weren’t too sure what they were going to do to them. You started to panic and tried to get away from Bo’s touch. “We won’t kill them. Yet. We’re just druggin’ them so we can brin’ them to Ambrose with us” Bo explained to you. You calmed down but you still shook your head at that. “I know ya want them all safe and sound, but we can’t let them go to the police, so they come” Bo replied and you heard the venom in his voice. He couldn’t hide the jealousy and the rage of his girl loving other people than him and his brothers “Time to go back to sleep, princess” he mused and you tried to fight as he pressed a tissue over your face.

You didn’t struggle for long before everything went dark.

When you opened your eyes again, you felt like you were back years ago. You were laying down in the guest room in the Sinclairs' house; a guest room that was actually yours because Trudy insisted for you to leave your belongings there, as it was your second house. It wasn’t like the Sinclairs were inviting anyone else at home anyways (or that anyone wanted to sleep in their house either). Your parents weren’t too happy about it, but you often slept there. The room was still the same with its pinkish walls and the cream furniture. Drawings were on the walls. You almost wondered if you were going to be late for school before you realised what truly happened.

The Sinclairs kidnapped you and your friends.

You tried to sit up but you realised one of your hands was cuffed to the bed frame. You cursed and tried to get your hand free until you heard footsteps in the corridor. You stopped breathing, waiting for someone to enter the room. Your heart was hammering inside your chest. You wanted to believe it was all a nightmare, and that you were going to wake up soon.

Bo cracked the door open and smiled when he noticed you were awake.

“Hello, doll,” he hummed as he entered the room.

You finally could have a good look at him and you had to admit he became as handsome as you thought he would be. You looked away, afraid of what was going to happen to you, afraid of him. Your whole body was tense and you cursed yourself for having tempted the devil like your mother asked you not to. You had been so so stupid.

Bo walked to you before cupping your face to force you to look at him. He had lost his smile. His thumb gently stroked your cheek. You tried very hard to not start crying. Or to not lean into his touch. His skin felt so warm against yours.

“Please, Bo. Let us go” you whispered. You noticed that the man’s jaw tightened. It was clearly not the first words he wanted to hear from you after all this time.

“Trust me, no one’s leavin’ no more” he harshly replied and tears fell down your cheeks. It calmed him down “Ah baby” he shushed as he knelt beside you to kiss your tears away. You hated how much you loved to feel his lips on your skin once again. “Ya’re meant to be a Sinclair, ‘s fate bringin’ ya where ya belong. And we’re all gonna take an extra good care of ya for all the years we had to go through without ya” he continued as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“You want me, keep me and let everyone else go, please. They have nothing to do with this.” you begged again. Bo sighted.

“Ya shouldn’t’ve left Ambrose, doll. Now ya have to pay the price for it” he simply shrugged and got up. “Gonna bring ya some breakfast, baby, I’ll be back” he added and left the room.

You cried even more, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reason with the Sinclairs. You hoped your people were still alive so you could help them to escape, even if it meant you would stay at Ambrose forever.

You were tugging on the handcuff again when you heard the door being opened a second time. You looked up to see Vincent watching you from the entrance. He looked like the shy boy you met the first time. You swallowed hard. You wanted to ask him what he did with your friends but you realised you were too afraid of the answer, so you stayed silent. Vincent finally moved closer to you and knelt in front of the bed. His fingers gently traced your face, as to memorise the change in your features since last time he saw you. You let him do it and closed your eyes. He removed the tears with a sad pout concealed behind his mask. You could pretend you were still a teenager, and Vincent was quietly flirting with you through tender touches.

You opened your eyes again when you felt the masked twin grab your free hand. He removed enough of his mask to press your palm against his scarred skin. You could have stayed immobile, but you didn’t. You gently stroked his cheek and he hummed in approval, his eye closed in well being. It felt so good to finally get your touch back.

“Hi, Vinny” you whispered and he looked up at you with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He kissed your hand. “Not gonna hurt me, right?” you asked, just to make sure. The man instantly shook his head. “Not gonna turn me into a wax statue either?” you added with a bite of your lips. Same answer. Relief flooded through you.

Forever love you. Missed you so badly. He slowly signed to you, as he wasn’t certain you still remembered ASL, but you did.

You didn’t have time to answer before Bo entered the room with a trail of food. It smelt good; you could already recognise his signature pancakes. Vincent stood up as Bo put the trail on the nightstand.

“Gonna untie ya, but nothin’ stupid, girl” he warned you and you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. You weren’t too sure how you could be any more stupid than you already had been. What were you thinking when you decided to bring your friends so close to Ambrose? You wondered if deep down you hadn’t wanted this. “Y/N” Bo groaned and you simply tug on the handcuff. “Hey, don’t hurt yourself now!” Bo exclaimed as his hand flew on your wrist and you stopped tugging.

“Untie me then” you replied and Bo let escape a little smirk

“Ah yes, ya’re so hot when ya’re all bossy, ain’t ya?” he teased as he removed the handcuff from your wrist. You didn’t reply because you refused to acknowledge him flirting with you, like he used to. You massaged your wrist as you sat up.

Knowing they weren’t going to hurt or kill you, appeased you a little and you thanked Bo for the food. You actually ate it with appetite, even though the twins’ stares were making you feel uncomfortable. They both sat, on a chair or on a desk, staying silent. They shared looks from time to time, but you tried your best to not mind them.

“Are they dead already?” you suddenly asked, because you needed to know

“Who?” Bo asked back, feigning innocence

“My friends” you groaned, your stomach twisted in worry. Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten before asking this question, you thought.

“No idea who ya’re talkin’ ‘bout” Bo shrugged.

You had a very bad feeling. You turned your attention toward Vincent, who tried to look away from you.

"Vincent." you simply said "Are they dead?"

Vincent hesitated about what to say. In the end, he slowly nodded at you.

You got up and threw the plate on the wall in one swift and yet brutal movement. The porcelain broke as you started to angrily scream at them.

“Fuck! Fuck you all!” you cried out as both the twins got up. Bo tried to sit you back on the bed but you shoved him to the side. You grabbed Vincent by the shoulders “I swear to God, Vincent, if you fucking turned them into wax statues, I’m gonna burn down your cherished House of Wax to the fucking ground!!” you yelled even more.

Vincent’s eye widened and he thought about the four bodies he had already prepared to turn into statues. He quickly nodded though. He had no desire in upsetting you even more. And god forbid the twins to think how hot and attractive you were when you were so angry… If only you weren’t mad at them.

“How ‘bout ya calm down?” Bo grumbled but it only angered you more

“That I calm down? That I fucking calm down? You killed my people!! And then you wonder why I left Ambrose and never came to you all?” you screamed. Your words hurt Bo a lot more than he could admit so his own anger rose inside his chest

“Oh yeah? Well it’s funny ‘cause I ain’t rememberin’ ya carin’ that much about the killin’ before! Ya knew what mother and father were doin’ and it didn’t stop ya from livin’ with us most of your time!” Bo argued back

“It was different, it was your parents! I thought we could all live away from this mess, but no, you both decided the mess was worth it!” you continued

“It was the only life for us, and ya know it!” Bo replied as he gestured at Vincent who looked down

“You scared me off Ambrose” you cried out

“But now ya’re back and ya’re never fuckin’ leavin’ ever again! Ya’re ours, don’t ya know it, Y/N? Ya gave us everythin’ and we gave ya our souls in exchange! Didn’t ya enjoy flirtin’, kissin’ and havin’ sex with us? Or maybe ya were just a whore” Bo replied and you slapped him.

You didn’t even realise what you did, you just did it. Bo pushed you on the bed and Vincent quickly stopped his twin from coming closer to you. But you weren’t afraid. You couldn’t be afraid of the people you truly had loved the most in your existence, and who had always been eager to do anything for you.

It was why the brothers loved you with such fierce passion; you had the strength to call them out on their bullshit and to make them obey. They were wrapped around your little finger, but it came with a cost: they would burn the whole world down if it meant keeping you theirs.

“Is that what you think of me? Great, Beauregard! But it can’t hurt me more than what you just did to my friends! And then you dare tell me you love me?” you said as you sent a glance at Vincent who felt like you pierced his heart with a dagger “It ain’t love, that might be why I ran away from you all! I shouldn’t’ve come back to the South of the country. Stupid fucking bad luck!”

Bo was about to reply to this, even though Vincent was trying to calm him down, but the door opened again. You saw Lester entering the room with a worried expression written all over his face. Things were really not going the way it was supposed to, he thought. He had heard you arguing with Bo from downstairs and he hoped he could put everyone back in a good mood.

But you couldn’t even stand looking at him after what happened. You got up once again and pushed the twins away from you.

“You know what, get all the fuck out of my room!” you yelled and you continued to push them toward the door. Once they were all out, you slammed the door shut and fell on your knees as you silently started to cry.

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(I really hope I didn't forget anyone! <3)

PART III

#house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x s/o #lester sinclair x you #lester sinclair x reader #poly!sinclair x you #poly!sinclairs x s/o #poly!sinclairs x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x you #slasher x reader #poly!slashers x you #poly!slashers x reader #poly!slashers x s/o

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small-sinclair · 1 year

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Wolves knocking at the Door

poly!Sinclairs x y/n

Tw: reader is not a wolf (only the brothers), Bo being himself (soft at the end), mentions of past killings, blood, reader gets smacked

This is a free style a/b/o prompt because no one is going to stop me and I have free will over myself. It came to me while I was eating chips and scrolling through @sketchy-rosewitch's blog the other day.

Days before a full moon are the worse in the Sinclair house, and you've taken good note of it. Bo gets angrier like throwing things across Ambrose, Vincent's kills become more violent and bloodied, and Lester just has a hard time keeping his thoughts lined and together, making it harder for him to focus or do his job.

When they were at home with you, they did their damnest to keep their emotions in check. They just wanted to make sure you didn't see the worse in them, that's all; and you knew that they were working so hard on making sure you never see that side of them.

But it's different tonight as the full moon was coming tonight, and you knew that they'll be... different. You knew they'll be out, hunting, fighting, terrorizing, killing--you knew it all but you weren't afraid. Besides, you knew that they'll never hurt you, and they make sure you have Papa's silver bullets and the blessed pistols with you just in case they even tried.

The morning started with Bo's cursing and a coffee mung breaking; that's what woke you. As you came down stairs, you were met with a broken mug on the floor and Lester in a headlock, Vincent pulling Bo away from his brother, and feverish blue eyes filled with fire and brimstone. The power he has in that pose is enough to make you want to run away, but you know better than that.

"Bo!" You snapped as you hurried into the kitchen, but you kept your distance when Vincent shot you a look. "Bo, let him go!"

With a tug, Bo was ripped off Lester's neck, Lester falling to the ground on his hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air as he held his neck. As Vincent backed away with bis brother locked in his grasp, you came to Lester's side and tried to help his steady his breathing.

You haven't seen Bo like this since the night you first saw him kill, when he first dug large canine teeth into your friend's neck, ripping it out to leave her to bleed out on the church floor.

You rubbed his back as he coughs, leaning into your touch. "...betta get outta here, darlin'," he breathed as he heard Vincent losing his grip and Bo stomping over to him. "Git--"

Before you had time to react to his warning, a large hand came down, and the world went quite. The birds stopped singing and the marsh stopped its song. The clouds covered the morning sun and the wind hit the house with full force. A bomb might as well gone off in the house as you faced the other way, holding your face, as the sting filled over your skin. Tears burned like acid as you cried silently. Before anyone could say or do anything, you stand and race out of the house, running down the street towards the church.

Where you still in your pajamas? Yes.

Did you care? No.

When you make it into the church, you find yourself running past their dead mother and hiding in the confessional, locking it. Going to the back of the booth, you tried to make yourself small before hiding your face in your legs, crying. He promised he would never do that, he promised to be a good man and his brothers agreed...

But how much does a promise cost, y/n? What's the payment at the end? They're beast, monsters. They are born to kill and worship the hunt on a full moon. Monsters don't keep promises.

But the Sinclairs do. They're better than this, and they'll prove it.

In a few moments, you hear the door to the church bursting open and heavy footsteps. "Y/n?" Bo called breathlessly, eyes scanning wildly over the pews and walls. "Darlin'! Come out--"

"No!" You yelled back, hugging yourself tightly. Your voice echoed from the locked confessional, and you heard Bo's boots coming to the door. He knocks, but you just yell, "Leave me alone, Bo!"

"Y/n, please com' out!" Bo shouted back, his right hand still burning from the sting. "Come out. I'll do anythin' ya want! Anythin'!" He kneels in front off the door and took in your scent, and he wanted to throw-up. He did this to you. He did this. He loves the smell of fear from his victums, but not from you. His hands rested on the door and he leaned against it. "Honey, please? Open up?"

At first, you don't move from your spot. You looked at the locked door then back at the handle. If you do open up, what'll happen? You're nervous he might yell, might feel different--

Then you hear something you thought you'd never hear: Bo whines at the door, his head thumping against the wood. It's heart aching and it tears you apart to hear him whine like a hurt puppy. You hear it again before the whine turns into him crying at the door, head still pressed against the wood. "Please, darlin," he whispers. "How do I make it better?"

You hear boots shuffling across the church floor, and Lester voice rings over, "Y/n? Ya okay? Where are ya, sweet pea?" His voice falls when he sees his brother at the confessional door, and he frowns. "Y/n?" You're not sure if you should answer him until you hear him joining his brother's side. you see their shadows through the crack on the door. "Yer okay, sweetness," he said against the door. "He didn't mean it." Lester rested his head against the door as well, closing his eyes. He didn't like how you smelled when you left the house in a panic, and he didn't like it now. "Honeydew?"

Then Vincent joins. You know his boots anywhere as he enters. You can hear him sniff the air then whimpering lowly as he joins his brothers. You could see his shadow behind his brothers as he placed a heavy hand on the door, resting his head against the cold wood.

"Sweetheart, please?" Bo's voice cracks. "Open the door? I gotta make sure yer okay."

"I'm not okay, Bo," you answer, your head raising from you hugged knees. "You hit me."

"He didn't mean it!" Lester replied. "Honest!" He's just as scared as his brothers. If you don't open up, he'll make sure Bo pays for everything. He hates hearing you so hurt and sad. That hit was supposed to hit him, not you.

"I wanna hear it from him," you said, wiping your eyes. "I want to hear it from Bo."

Bo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Ya know I didn't mean it."

Not good enough.

"Then I'm not coming out," you huffed. You're standing your ground on this one.

Vincent looks down at his twin then nodded at the door. He'll do anything to make you stop crying, to take away your pain and have it as his own. Vincent hated seeing you crying, and he hated that he wasn't strong enough to keep the other Alpha at bay. He just wanted to hold you in his arms, bury your head into his chest, and never let you go until you died. He promised himself that he would kill anyone that hurts you, and here he was, glaring at his brother.

Bo begs this time, and he sounds a bit pathetic, "Y/n. I'll do anythin'--"

"Then tell me you didn't mean it, Bo," you said again, looking at the door with hopeful eyes. "Tell me you won't do it again." You sniffled and said, "If you ever want to hold me or kiss me or fuck me, then you'll say it. If not," you looked around the room then back at the door, "I'll stay in here until you say it."

Bo grits his teeth then looks at the closed door as if he was kneeling in front of God himself. He looks down as he felt Lester's hand on his shoulder, nodding at the door.

"'M sorry, Y/n," it doesn't sound forced as he looked at the door. "'M sorry, darlin'. I swear to ya I'll that I'll never lay a hand on ya again. I promise, y/n... I swear it to you." He leans against the door and listens. "Darlin', please? Open up? Le' us see ya."

Silence filled the church before they heard you unlock the door. Bo sits up in attention, his bright blue eyes glowing and scared. Lester's plays with his hands nervously, his brown eyes were mixing to a hazel. Vincent... to say he was nervous was an understatement; he was terrified of your next words and actions. You were the best thing to happen to this little pack.

When Bo looked up to see your face, he was horrified. His hand print marked your perfect skin, and he hated himself more when he saw your puffy and red eyes trying so hard to smile down at him.

He looked as if he was a child reaching up to he picked up by his parent when his hands reached for yours, and you took them. You stepped closer and hold his head against your stomach.

''M sorry, darlin," he murmurs against your pajama shirt. "'M so sorry."

You comb through his hair, closing your eyes, and felt Vincent's arms wrap around your shoulders, taking in your scent, and Lester's hands rubbing your arms gently. Feeling your boys around you always made you feel safe and special.

You four stay like that for a while until you break the silence. "Can I cuddle you before you three have to go out tonight? Please?"

And they're all for it. They walk with you back to the house, Lester taking off his shoes to give you so you don't have to walk over the stones. Vincent holding your hand while Bo follows behind, listening to you talk about your plans for tonight while they go on their hunt.

By the time all of you are back at the house, they head to your room, the room that you share with Bo, and get ready, letting you go under the covers first to get comfortable.

First, Lester crawls in, snuggling up to your left side. Second, Vincent holds you and Lester. Third and last, Bo joins on your right side, getting a side all to himself.

For a while, you stay silent, letting the birds sing and the marsh start its song again.

Bo litters your bruised face with soft, gentle kisses while you run your fingers through Lester's hair, him humming to the touches. Vincent is looking at you as if he's seeing you for the first time. Before long, he takes off his mask and kisses your jaw.

Before you know it, you're asleep between them once more. You're safe and loved from them, and that's all you need.

When you wake up, the only one there is Bo, and your resting your head against his chest. Warm arms wrap around you protectively as he looks up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

When you look up, you can see his first stages of transformation: large brown and soft wolf ears sticking out of his hair, his nails longer and sharper, his blue eyes turning to a deeper blue mixed with purple, small patches of fur littering over his body. He'll have to leave soon before the afternoon sun sets to join his brothers.

Mainly to make sure Lester is okay while during his transformation. It always hurts him the most, so he'll need some support from his two Alphas.

When he feels your eyes on him, he looks down with sadness mixing his eyes. "'M so sorry, darling," he whispers, scared to startle you. "Forgive me?"

"I'll forgive you if you promise to start reading those anger management books I gave you." Then you thought. "Or listen to some ASMR audios."

"I'll take the books, y/n." His voice was rougher and deeper as the day grew.

You snuggle into his shirt, feeling the warmth and his heartbeat against your skin. "Works for me." You look up at him. "I love you."

He brings your face up to his as he places a kiss on your lips. "I love you more, y/n."

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letssimptogether · 10 months

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Slashers x Pregnant! Reader

✨ reader almost gets hurt by a victim/victim uses reader as leverage — requested by anon ✨

includes: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, and Poly! Ghostface

warnings: mentions or possible descriptions of (slight!) violence, cursing

a/n: i might use some manga as lil cover pictures when writing multiple slashers/idk what picture to use idk i think they’re cute teehee😅🤭 anyways, sorry for the wait—i hope you all enjoy! readers pronouns are gender neutral💜💜

💜Bo Sinclair

You just finished doing the dishes, when you heard a knock at the door. Unsure it was one of the boys, you scooted from your comfy couch spot and opened the door.

To your surprise, it was not one of the boys—and much to the unexpected visitor's surprise, someone opened the damned door.

“Please, you have to help me.” The man begged in front of you, big sloppy tears pouring from his eyes.

You paused and looked at the male in front of you before raising a brow. You knew what was up, but you never had to deal with the victims before, especially now that you’re over a month pregnant—Bo really doesn’t want you talking or handling them.

“They’re going to get me,” He choke and sobbed, “I need your help.”

Unsure of what to do, you stood there for a few seconds longer, thinking of what the safest option was, but also one that wouldn’t put the boys in danger.

Over the surprise visitor's shoulder, you could see Bo approaching, and he was just a few buildings away—while staring at Bo, and trying to decide your option, the visitor turned around to catch what you were looking at and met Bo’s now rage-filled demeanor.

Quickly, he shoved you to the floor, hopping over you; only stepping on your arm. The minute Bo reached you, he gently helped you up and cupped your cheek. He then pressed a small kiss to your nose and asked you to go to your guy’s shared bedroom.

You could hear each sloshing stabbing sound and the man’s blood-curdling screams almost all night before Bo accompanied you in bed.

🩷Vincent Sinclair

You happily made your way towards the Wax Museum, a plate of food in your hand for your beloved since you know Vincent most likely hasn’t eaten yet.

Once you got to the entrance of the museum, much to your startle, the door was already open. And to make matters worse, you hear two voices giggling.

You stood still beside the entrance, your free hand holding where your womb is, pausing to think of your best option for safety for you and the growing baby. Vincent must've known of their presence, so it's only a matter of time now. Once their whispering died down, you snuck inside the building, peeking around each corner and listening to make sure nobody could see or hear you. You turned a corner too quick in your need to get to Vincent, that you bumped your hip on a nearby table, almost causing you to drop your plate. "Shit," You silently muttered, panicking slightly from your slight bump. "What was that?" A man asked just faint enough for you to hear, causing your panic to rise more. "Maybe it's the dog from earlier?" A woman responded questioningly. As if on cue, Vincent sneaks around the corner and places a comforting hand on your shoulder, while also signaling you to shush before pointing in the direction of where the intruders. He quickly puts his hand over his mask's mouth, then presses it softly to where your baby bump's growing like a little kiss. And from there, he went to take care of the two.

💜Lester Sinclair

You were riding in the truck with Lester, as he went to run errands when a stranger waved you guys down alongside the road.

“Hey! Hi—sorry to bother you guys,” The stranger stumbled nervously, “Something happened and we really need to get to our friends, would one of us be able to catch a ride to the nearest town?”

You and Lester exchanged unsure glances, but Lester agreed nonetheless. You scooted to the middle seat closer Lester, giving him one last worried glance before patting the seat for the stranger.

The three of you rode in an uncomfortable silence, occasionally making some small talk about the small town of Ambrose, and how the two of you like it.

“Ain’t too bad,” Lester spoke up, “Pretty quiet. Everyone minds their own business for the most part.”

The strangers phone started to ring, and they quickly apologized and answered, stiffening in statue after what seemed 10 seconds. They nervously side eyed Lester and you a few times, while giving verbal acknowledgments over the phone.

“Excuse me—can you stop the car?” They asked, feigning a polite exterior, their jaw quivering and the right hand upon the door handle shook nervously.

“Mhm,” Lester slowed to a stop, but before the old beat up truck could even get to a halt, the stranger opened the door, and grabbed you, pulling the both of you out of the car, leaving only Lester in the drivers seat.

“Stay back, freak! Or—or else!” The stranger shoved you to the ground, then pointing a finger to Lester, to prove a point to him that they’re not above violence.

You tried to crawl away, but the stranger had other plans.

“Get back here, bitch,” The strangers focus was too engrossed into you, they didn’t notice Lester hop out of the truck, “I heard what you did to my friends!”

The stranger went to reach for you, but was stopped by Lester pulling them back and punching perpetrator in the throat.

“Hell is wrong with you hitting a pregnant person,” Lester’s punches did not ease up until the strangers face looked like a bloody pulp.

Once he finished, he walked over to where you stood yourself up, and pulled you in for a hug, and pressed a kiss to your forehead and knelt down to press a kiss to your tummy.

“Y’okay, sugar?” He grasped your hand, and walked you to the truck and helped you sit down comfortably.

🩷Thomas Hewitt

You and Luda sat in the kitchen knitting things for the baby that’s on the way.

“Y/N, would you be a dear and check on the pie?” Luda politely inquired.

“Of course!” You opened the oven to check, but the pie wasn’t fully done, so you reset the timer for about 5 minutes.

You took your seat back, and continued knitting your baby blanket. Luda stood up, and started cleaning the counters and washing the dishes used to make the cherry pie.

Faint scrambling and screaming could be heard coming from the basement, but you just turned on the small radio and continuing knitting zigzags into the blankets design.

Until someone managed to scramble their way to the first floor, scrambling through the living room, and then the kitchen.

“You two! Hey! You have to help me!” The man pleaded, “He’s trying to kill me down there!”

The man pointed down in the basement, and Luda looked at him unimpressed. She was sneaking her way to find something to hit the person with without being detected, but the man grabbed onto your hand and tried pulling you with him.

“Please! You have to listen to me; he’s going to kill me—then he’s going to kill you too!” He sobbed, ripping you from your chair at the small table.

“I—” You didn’t get a chance to respond or call for help before the man pulled you outside and down the wooden steps.

“Tommy!” You hear Luda Mae call out, “They’re trying to take Y/N!”

About two minutes later, Thomas ran through the door, his chainsaw rumbling with a seething rage. Within a minute, your captor was mowed down by Thomas, who then dropped the (now off) chainsaw, and spun you in the air with his embrace, pressing his forehead to yours.

That night, Thomas made you a warm bath and you enjoyed a cool cup of sweet tea while you got to munch on the pie you and Luda made from earlier.

💜Brahms Heelshire

It was a cool Sunday afternoon, and you were waiting for Malcolm to bring groceries to the house for you and Brahms—who was hiding upstairs, waiting for your okay to come out.

You sat in the living room, sipping on your favorite hot beverage while rereading a book you started, but haven’t finished.

Faint knocking could be heard from the front door, so you placed your book and drink down, and peeled through the door.

Malcom finally arrived; which means Brahms can come out soon!

“Afternoon, Malcolm!” You gave a small smile with your greeting, which dropped when you saw the man who delivers Brahms and your groceries arrived empty handed.

“Malcolm wh—” You were cut off by his quick ramblings.

“Y/N, you have to get out of here,” He quickly blurted out, “Brahms is alive; he-he’s been living in the walls!”

Mentally, you rolled your eyes. You knew this, obviously—he is your partner after all.

“What do you mean?” You faked concern, even though you had a feeling you knew how this would end.

The grocery boy would enter, prohibited to leave; his fate sealed past the front door.

“Brahms—I SAW him, Y/N.” He huffed, pacing in a nervous circle.

“I think you’re just seeing things, Malcolm. I live here, don’t you think I’d know if he’s here? Wouldn’t I have seen or heard him?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow, trying your best to gaslight him into leaving you and Brahms alone.

He grasped your hand, “If you refuse to believe it, I have no choice. We’re getting out of here and somewhere safe.”

Little did he know, Brahms was watching the whole interaction. And boy is he pissed.

He snuck out through one of the walls, and approached Malcolm from behind.

“Y/N,” He whined, walking towards where Malcom had a grip on your wrist, “Don’t go.”

“Get him Brahms!” You cried, ripping your arm away from Malcolm and backing away.

Brahms quickly gripped Malcolm’s neck, squeezing so hard his poor face turned a blueish purple from the lack of oxygen due to Brahms’ rage.

As soon as Malcom’s body felt limp, Brahms ran towards your slightly nervous form, nuzzling his masked face into your neck, whimpering softly while rubbing your belly.

🩷Poly! Ghostface

You laid sprawled out upon the bed that the three of you shared, watching nostalgic horror movies. Your phone wasn’t too far from your reach due to the boys needing a ride later.

As if on cue, said device started ringing with Stu’s ringtone.

“Hey, babe!” You perked up, “You need me to come scoop you guys up?”

“Mhm-ow!” The sound of slapping could be heard on your end, and Stu groaned over the phone.

“Hi cutie,” Billy snatched the phone from Stu, “Seems nobody’s here. Can you come get us now?”

“Absolutely!” You beamed before hanging up, running to your car, and starting it.

Once you got to the location they sent you, you pulled into the driveway, turned your lights off, and parked the car.

With few lights lit in the house, you could only make out one figure running around in the dark rather than two. Nonetheless, you brushed it off due to how dim the house was, and you turned your music back up, rubbing your hand over the slight bump.

The figure snuck out of the house, and knocked on the window of the car.

“Are you their ride, bitch?” She sneered, “I overheard those fuck-faces on the phone talking about a ride.”

You tried to lock the doors, which you left unlocked for the boys, but the assailant was faster to open the door. She tried to rip you out of the car as you covered yourself up for defense, both not realizing the seatbelt was on.

“Billy!” You screamed out, “Stu, help please!”

The stranger retracted their fist to hit you, but was pulled back by Billy’s grip, before he plunged a knife into her. She glared at you as she tried to hit Stu who blocked her path, gladly taking a turn stabbing her in the ribs.

They dropped her, and both huddled around you, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheek while their hands hold your baby bump.

#slashers x reader #slashers x pregnant reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #poly ghostface x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #x pregnant reader

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teeramoonlover · 5 months

Text

This got me thinking.

Billy Loomis, Stu Macher/William Afton, and Bo Sinclair as they grew older, at some point they need someone from their own flesh and blood to continue their legacy, right?

So yeah those three gonna build one big happy family with reader, and their kids gonna be a bunch of satan's spawn but only being lovely to their own mom/dad/guardian.

And ofc in this case, those three lovely slashers ain't dead in these scenario.

Billy Loomis

As we all know, Samantha Carpenter is the infamous daughter of Billy Loomis. But what if Billy Loomis actually have another kid from the reader? I'm gonna assume this guy gonna be his son.

(My pov) His son definitely will hunt and kill the Ghostface, who dare to be like his dad. In his mind, he was like 'my dad and his friend are the only Ghostface, no one's gotta be like him. And it will stay that way'. So to ease his bloodlust, instead of killing innocents, why not just kill these Ghostface rookies. It's like they're asking for it, didn't they?

Not surprised to see he loves horror movies, maybe get inspiration from crime documentaries. High chance he is the mastermind and have many ways to lure those new Ghostface to him. Tempting to torture them like John Kramer did to his victims.

Oh and if his dad has mommy issue, bro got a whole daddy issues coming in. Like father, like son

Cast (Son): Benjamin Wadsworth

Born: 1997

Stu Macher/William Afton

If Stu Macher had a kid, ya bet his children gonna be a goofball like him? Wrong. In fact (from my pov), his son gonna double up from Stu's inner psychotic tendency in him. More aggressive, more violent and more unhinged. His son knew to embrace madness.

If Stu Macher become a killer because of peer pressure, this kid just pure psycho. Instead of being a friendly social butterfly or party king like his dad, he's the appitome of school's bad boy type of thing. It's either being mean or meanest.

Don't let me start on him becoming Micheal Afton.

If he gets proper love from his mom/guardian, he gonna be a big softie and overprotective (possessive) to his love ones. Gonna be hella toxic. He can be good, only with his mom/guardian, but to someone else? Rarely occasion.

Cast (Son): Drew Starkey

Born: 1996

Bo Sinclair

Ok first of all we all know, BO SINCLAIR IS A BEAST IN BED (rip reader's cunt/rim hole) and when he knew reader is pregnant, he was worried he might not be a good father figure to his kid until their first child born. Things change. Seeing his son's big blue eyes, like him, stir something in him. The Sinclair Jr made him soft. So ofc, Bo becomes bold and wants another child cuz he doesn't want his son to be lonely.

It's to be expected. To be apart of the Sinclair, they would eventually have twins sooner or later. Thank god both their son's head still intact in one piece. On the other hand, his three sons grew handsomely and receive motherly love from the reader.

The eldest, have a nasty tempered like his dad. You got on his way, he'll beat the shit out of you. He only be really nice to someone he care most, like his mama dearest. Always goes to church with his dad to see his grandma and help him in the garage.

The twins - The first twin (middle child) definitely got the charm from his dad. Knows how to be a sweetheart to ladies, but can be deadly once he hunt them for his uncle's sculpture. Most likely helping Vincent to build the museum. Might as well make an art museum next door too.

The second gonna be a rebellion, daredevil (youngest child) Well, not like strapping him to the chair. No no, mama won't like that. He loves adventure so definitely follow uncle Lester from town to town. He likes hunting, depends whether the prey will be animals or people. He can be nice. Charming too. Gonna be good friends with Stu's son, probably.

Cast (Sons): Eldest - Bill Skarsgård, Middle - Harris Dickinson, Youngest - Rudeth Pankow

Born: Eldest - 1994, Twins - 1996

Yep, one big chaotic, happy family indeed.

#billy loomis #stu macher #bo sinclair #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #bo sinclair x reader #slasher x reader #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface x reader #scream 1996 #house of wax #scream imagine #william afton

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dylan-hart · 1 year

Text

⸻ these words that bring me to you

summary: You were dreading the day you would meet your soulmates, their words forever printed harshly down your forearm. Meanwhile, Enid and Wednesday can only think about finding their third, even if the two matching words on their wrists were odd. Besides, what could possibly happen that makes their soulmate’s first words to them be “Well, fuck”?

pairing: Enid Sinclair x Fem!Reader x Wednesday Addams, poly

warning(s): cursing, mentions of child neglect, Thornhill being creepy af (nothing drastic), bullying

word count: 2.4k

You were never normal. That’s a fact that you knew well. Ever since your odd birth and the years leading up to your sixteenth birthday, you were deemed abnormal. Weird, even. You were the quiet kid that sat in the back of the classroom, headphones blasting music to drown out the teacher’s rambling, and extremely antisocial — many went as far to believe that you were allergic to people.

But you were okay with that fact.

Until the day a boy decided that you were the perfect target to jump and scare in the hallway. You barely remembered what happened that day, only that your vision tunneled when hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, his voice yelling loudly in your ears, and the sound of his friends laughing loudly in the distance had grated your nerves, until you felt something surge from your chest, into your veins and push out from your fingertips.

The boy went flying across the hallway, cracking his head on the floor.

Your life was never the same again.

The ability to move objects — or people — without even touching them, with only the thought of pure instinct or want, had flipped your life upside down. Expelled from your old school, rumors of being a witch that sent you spiraling, and the reveal of your newfound ability left your parents scared of you. Your father became angry, angrier than normal, and his yelling became more constant, screaming matches leaving both of your throats raw as your mother watched on blankly, not once saying a single word.

They were scared of you, scared of what you could do.

That’s why you found yourself being shipped off across the states to a new school, one that could hopefully fix you or keep you contained. A school of fellow freaks and outcasts much like yourself.

Nevermore.

You settled in quickly, quietly, not bothering to talk to your roommate — what was her name? Yoko? you mused — and kept up the same appearance as your last school: curled in on yourself, picking the chair furthest in the back, and keeping your headphones over your ears at all times, zoning in and out — you thanked the way you could easily pick up subjects, able to keep your grades high enough the school wouldn’t even think of contacting your parents. You didn’t make any friends — you didn’t want them, didn’t need them — and you didn’t speak during class, choosing to doodle away absently in your notebook.

And, when night came and your roommate was snoring away in her bed, you would trace the lines down your forearm, hoping that you never met your soulmates, hoping you would never see them or come into contact with them.

“Shit, that took forever to organize!”

“Scram before I fillet the skin off your bones and feed it to the piranhas.”

You sighed at the thought and rubbed at your eyes, fingers gripping your forearm. You had evidently messed up with one of your soulmates with their words were anything to go by while the other one was openly threatening you.

So, you wished you would never meet them, never have the chance to ruin such a beautiful bond with your freakishness.

Unfortunately, the world was never kind to you and you ended up meeting them at the end of the week.

“Miss (L/n), can you please stay after class?”

You paused and clenched your jaw, ducking your head down, the grip on your notebook tightening drastically. You watched from the corner of your eye as everyone filed out quickly, the last being a blonde talking loudly and animatedly to a girl with dark hair and her face blank, though her eyes were fond as she stared at her companion.

You sighed and watched the door close before you glanced up, shouldering your backpack, letting your headphones dangle around your neck. You fidgeted as Miss Thornhill smiled at you, something strange racing down your spine at the sight.

“You wished to speak with me?” you prompted when she continued to only smile at you.

“Ah, yes,” Miss Thornhill said, shaking out of her stupor. “I wanted to ask how you’re settling into Nevermore. Have the students been treating you good?”

You shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, they’re fine,” you answered.

“I see that you don’t really talk to anyone, though.” Miss Thornhill frowned, concern too obvious to be real on her face. “I know that things were rough in your last school.” You felt something like ice rush through your veins at the thought. “If you ever want to talk, about anything — your old school, your life, your parents…your powers…”

You shivered at the way she said the last part, something manic in her eyes behind that calm facade, something dangerous.

“I’m okay,” you forced out, throat closing up. “But I’ll make sure to take you up on your offer if it ever becomes too much.”

Miss Thornhill smiled and set a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it. You forced yourself to stay completely still, bile lurching up the back of your throat and stomach churning. “Take care of yourself, Miss (L/n). I’m here if you need to talk.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Miss Thornhill,” you managed to choke out. She finally let go of your shoulder.

You turned and headed for the door, keeping your pace even enough that she didn’t think you were running away. You finally stepped out of her classroom and waited until the door closed before you leaned heavily against the wall, forcing down your power as it thrashed restlessly in your veins, panic rearing up that had you taking deep breaths to calm it.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You glanced up and saw a boy with long hair staring at you in concern. “I’m fine,” you brushed off harshly and pushed yourself from the wall, marching away.

“Well, okay then,” you heard him mutter but you ignored it.

You practically stormed towards your dorm room, classes be damned, but, when you turned around the corner, you smacked into something hard. You grunted and fell, hearing a crash in front of you. You blinked your eyes open when you realized they were closed and glanced up, finding the pair from before standing there, a binder and folder on the floor, pages a mess on the ground.

“Shit, that took forever to organize!” the blonde groaned out, glancing towards you.

You froze, your breath rolling from your lungs. No way. There’s no way this is happening to you—

The dark haired girl glowered at you, cold fury in her eyes. “Scram before I fillet the skin off your bones and feed it to the piranhas.”

You choked on air, fingers trembling as you stared up at them, eyes wide and panic resurfacing.

“Hey, are you okay?” the blonde asked tentatively after a moment, brows furrowing the longer you simply stared up at them.

The dark haired girl scoffed under her breath, crossing her arms, and scowled down at you, looking moments away from committing murder.

You blinked. And then blinked again. You chuckled humorlessly. “Well, fuck.”

It happened in an instant.

They both froze. The blonde’s eyes went wide in disbelief, jaw dropping, papers forgotten. The dark haired girl zeroed in on you intensely, straightening up in her spot. They stared at you in a new light, shock coloring their faces — though the dark haired girl less so than the blonde.

You glanced between them and decided then and there to leave the situation completely. You shoved yourself up from the ground quickly and twisted on your heel, rushing away from them, from your soulmates despite their warnings for you to come back.

You never did look back.

——

Your schedule changed after that. You would make sure to arrive to class a second before the bell to avoid your soulmates but you were also always the first to leave, escaping them even as they tried to catch you. Yoko — your roommate, you were right about her name — would stare at you weirdly every time you came back to your dorm before she brought up the subject because apparently, your luck would have it that she was one of your soulmate’s best friends because of course she was.

You learned their names: Enid Sinclair, the school’s social butterfly and social media sweetheart and Wednesday Addams, Nevermore’s morbid outcast and possible serial killer.

You were annoyed as you found yourself listening to Yoko tell stories about Enid and Wednesday, found yourself hating it that you craved to know more about them, to know their quirks and what they liked and disliked, what they were like.

You hated it but you couldn’t stop when Yoko offered to talk to you about them.

“They’re looking for you, you know,” Yoko mentioned one night.

You grimaced and glanced away from her.

“You want to know about them?” Yoko continued. “Out of everything I told you about them, the first and main thing you should know is that they never give up, that they always find a way to get what they want. Every. Single. Time.”

You found yourself wishing you had taken Yoko’s warning to heart when, one night when your roommate had decided to sleep in her soulmate, Bianca’s, dorm, you heard harsh knocking coming from your door. You grunted and scowled at the door before pushing yourself up from your bed and shuffling towards it, yanking the door open with a glower.

And there they stood, side by side — one smiling shyly and the other staring back at you stonily.

You tensed up at the sight, frozen in place.

“Can we come in?” Enid asked hesitantly.

You swallowed hard before finding yourself nodding, stepping aside. They both walked in and you shut the door behind them, fidgeting with your fingers and refusing to look at either of them.

“You’ve been avoiding us,” Wednesday deadpanned.

You winced.

“Wednesday,” Enid hissed under her breath at her soulmate.

But Wednesday ignored her.

“Why?”

You stared down at your feet, not saying a word.

“Is…” Enid started quietly. “Is it because you don’t want us?” Her voice wobbled dangerously.

Your eyes widened and you snapped your head up to look at them. “What? No!” you denied, shaking your head.

“Then why can you never look at us?” Enid whimpered.

You flinched back and your fingers grabbed where their sentences are printed on your skin, holding on tight enough it hurts. “I just…I’m not—” You groaned loudly, trying to find the words. “I’m not normal.”

Wednesday huffed out a breath. “I have psychic visions occasionally when I come into contact with someone or something. Enid can grow claws and transforms into a werewolf every full moon. None of us are normal, (L/n).”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you snapped. “I’m- I’m different. I’m a freak. A witch. I fuck up everything I touch. Why would I destroy something as precious as a soul bond with my presence?”

Wednesday frowned, brows twitching in what looked like a mixture of concern and rage.

Enid took a step towards you. “You’re not a freak. Who told you that?”

“Who hasn’t told me that?” you countered with a scoff, crossing your arms as if to protect yourself.

“You’re not a freak,” Enid said firmly, a fire in her eyes. “And you won’t fuck up our soul bond. She” — Enid jerked a thumb towards Wednesday, who cocked an eyebrow up at being addressed — “tried to push me away the first time she realized we were soulmates.” Enid grabbed the shorter’s hand despite her scoff. “But everything turned out okay in the end.”

“Trust me, (L/n), if there was a way to harm the soul bond, I would’ve already achieved it,” Wednesday drawled.

You stood still and processed what they were saying. A part of you screamed and yelled not to trust what they were saying, shouting that you didn’t deserve such a precious thing as soulmates, that you would mess it all up and end up alone again. But, there was also a part of you that yearned…that wanted so badly for this to happen; a part that wanted to just say fuck it and accept the bond as it is, to finally open up to someone.

“I…” You took a deep breath and stared at them, at your soulmates, who both stared right back, a certain vulnerability in their eyes. “Okay…okay, we can try this soulmate thing.”

Enid squealed and darted forward before pausing, arms outstretched. “Wait, am I allowed to give you a hug?”

You made the mistake of glancing into her doe eyes and found yourself nodding. She grinned and practically barreled into you, strong arms wrapping you up tightly, pulling you close to her. You tensed up at the feeling before slowly relaxing into the hug, tentatively wrapping your arms back around her. It felt like you had hugged for eternity before a dry voice spoke up.

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Wednesday said. “It makes me want to vomit.”

Enid laughed loudly and pulled away, nudging you. “That means that she loves us.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. You glanced over at Wednesday and hesitantly let your fingers brush against hers. She glanced down at your hand before wrapping her pinkie around yours. You smiled a small smile at her and watched her lips twitch slightly in response.

“Aw,” Enid cooed. “And you talk about us being adorable.” She leapt forward and grabbed your other hand, ignoring Wednesday giving her a warning glance for calling her adorable.

You three basked in the comfortable silence, warm pulsing between your connected hands and you let your eyes slip shut at the feeling, the bond pulsing happily between the three of you.

“I want names.”

“What?” you asked, blinking your eyes back open and turning towards Wednesday, who stared at you.

“I want the names of who made you think about yourself the way that you do,” Wednesday clarified.

“Why?”

“So they can be disposed of,” Wednesday answered unblinkingly.

You blanched. “It was mainly my parents.”

“That can be arranged.”

Enid’s eyes flashed. “Wednesday, what have we talked about murder?”

“That it’s allowed if one of our soulmates are suffering because of it,” Wednesday replied.

“What? No, we didn’t — Wednesday, put down the knife we are not going to go kill (Y/n)’s parents—”

You cracked a smile at their bickering.

Yeah, maybe the soul bond wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

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ornii · 1 year

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Hai hello hai

Ok so remember how you said enid goes into heat cuz shes a werewolf and all... so enid and reader hook up alot, and wedsnday find out and gets jealous

Male reader x wenclair

ThxThx. btw Love your writing so much

“Our” Boyfriend

Wenclair X Male Reader.

Summary: Who Knew Wednesday Addams was a Commie?

Wednesday Addams obviously isn’t a commie it’s a joke I don’t want to be canceled right when I start using tumblr over an obvious Joke

When it came to Enid and Wednesday, you couldn’t find more polar opposites who seem to get along just fine. While you never particularly adored Wednesday you were on good terms, however Enid was a different situation. With Enids primal libido and drive, hooking up was a constant that happens at least twice a day. There’s a decently sized list of how often and where.

Sometimes when walking to your biology class, you can spot Enid heading into a small janitors closet. Confused you peer in and she turns and grabs you by your tie, yanking you in for skipping class and a “Quickie.” Which was more than an hour, it’s a surprise nobody heard the walls banging.

Other times she gets even more reckless, along the balcony walkway over the quad, all seems well until she “Leans” over the the railing, purposely wearing a much shorter skirt than usual, almost teasing you to take her, obviously who wouldn’t and your palms gladly grip her waist and plunging in.

Enid would even go so far to bring you in her dorm as Wednesday slept near by, you had to be as quiet as possible but that wasn’t particularly easy. The way Enid rocked her hips into yours, her panted breath, wolf like whining when you hit just the right spot. You had to let her bite your arms sometimes just to keep her from howling in pleasure. The soft bed creaks were just enough for Wednesday to awaken, she didn’t move an inch though and just, listened. That one mistake lead you to the situation you’re in now.

One afternoon, Enid was preparing for a night out. Wednesday was preoccupied on her typewriter.

“You’re leaving?” Wednesday asks.

“Yeah, Yoko throwing a small Party. It’d gonna be like totes cute!” Enid says putting on lipstick. And Wednesday stops and turns to her.

“That’s odd, Yoko informed me of no such party.” Wednesday said and Enid stops, slowly growing fearful.

“O-oh, well yeah i-its a bit private.”

“Is it? Or are you going to meet (Y/n)?” Wednesday says which Enid slowly turns to her, trying to be cutely oblivious.

“What? No, it’s not like that we’re just friends—“

“Friends who fornicate Like hounds in heat, and in the same room next to me.” Wednesday says and stands up, and Enid slowly begins to realize she knew. Enid is slowly backed to a corner.

“We-We wouldn’t do that!”

“Hm, would you? Shall I read an excerpt from your diary?” Wednesday asks and Enids eyes go wide. “June 14th, (Y/n) didn’t want to go to the dorm but I couldn’t wait, so we did it in my bed next to Wednesday, I really didn’t want to wake her but it felt so good that I almost made a—“

“Okay! Okay! You made your point.” Enid says sadly. “I’m going to meet him and well, he knows a few open empty dorm rooms.” Enid said.

“Interesting.” Wednesday says, “a word of advice Enid, if you’re you’re going to break the rules, don’t Leave a trail of evidence.” She says.

“Noted, so, what do you want?” Enid asks.

“Him.” She responds, much to Enids confusion.

“Excuse me?” She says, “You aren’t his girlfriend, meaning he can be in any relationship he wishes, and I wish to partake in it, or would you rather me inform Thornhill?” She says, and Enid pouts.

Later that night (Y/n) Lays on his bed, with Enid around his left arm.

“So, Wednesday basically blackmailed you into sharing me as your hook up buddy?” You ask, Enid nods sadly, “I’ll admit it’s weird sharing you, but I’m kinda okay with it.” Enid says, you turn right, to Wednesday who was also lying with you.

“Wow Wednesday, didnt know you were a commie, “Our Boyfriend.” Heh.” You say smiling and Wednesday rests her head upon yours and speaks.

“Da, chert voz'mi”

#netflix #male reader #reader insert #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x male reader #enid x y/n #enid x reader #wenclair #wenclair x male Reader #three #poly #fwb

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 1 year

Text

❝ beautiful (darling) ❞

Amanda Young (Saw) —

She would do anything to ensure that you are happy and healthy.

Even if it means she has to stare you down with her arms crossed and her brow arched as you meekly confess that you'd forgotten to fulfil your daily needs.

Your girlfriend knows how damaging it is to be looked at with disgust by close-minded individuals - as an ex-addict and ex-convict she knows how dark your mind can become when the world seemingly turns its back on you. She may not understand the struggle you face as a trans person but she is SO proud of you for having made it this far.

If you deny these words of admiration, she will cup your face and repeat them.

Resist more and she will whisper praises on your skin as she trails kisses anywhere she can. She loves you, she will not give you room to degrade the person she loves.

Oh! Amanda adores wearing matching pieces with you. She's not interested in full-on "couple outfits" (if you beg, maybe she'll relent...maybe) but matching earrings, necklaces, rings? She loves it. It soothes her possessive side.

Speaking of her possessiveness, she's not a jealous person...at least that is what she tells herself.

Amanda won't ever turn her anger on you when someone shows interest in you, she knows it isn't your fault that someone doesn't understand what "taken" means.

However, this does little to stop her from placing her chin on your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck as she regards the "threat" with an unimpressed look.

"Whose this, baby?" "Oh, this is-" she gasps and you look as she points out something in the distance. "Look at that! Come on, looks fun!"

Please reassure her though, she acts tough but she is just a person underneath all that bloodshed.

Your girlfriend loves to embrace you, Little Spoon or Big Spoon matters not.

All-in-all, she is unapologetically touching you any chance she gets.

If someone is an asshole to you, you frankly start worrying about what dirt Amanda is going to find out about them and use against them in their game. You don't need to worry about her sketching new torture devices, disappearing in the middle of the night, or that suspicious duffel bag she comes back with that makes a loud CLANK! sound when she places it on the floor. No, really, don't worry.

When you see the asshole's face and name appear on the news because of their gruesome death, you simply continue to channel surf while Amanda chews on her lower lip, tucked under your arm and looking so smug.

If your cologne starts running out faster you look to your girlfriend - she quite literally smells like the evidence but she will deny, deny, deny.

Self-defense lessons. No questions asked, no rebuttal or refute. She will be more at peace knowing you can protect yourself.

If you decide to help her by "participating" in a game with other people, her eyes will be glued to the camera feed. She is pacing as thousands of "what if's" run through her mind. They dissipate as you turn your head to a hidden camera and smile at her before you continue your performance of distress and anxiety. She falls deeper in love with you (expect the most passionate kiss of your life - no, she won't care if you're covered in blood).

[CHEST BINDING] Amanda reminds you to take a break, and stretch your back and even offers to massage you. She will splurge on a better-quality binder when yours starts looking worse for wear.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES, ADDICTION implied] She won't be present while you administer the shot, she will prepare band-aids, praises and kisses once you're done.

[SELF-HARM mentioned] If you struggle with self-harm, she won't start asking "how's" or "why's". Unlike her mentor, she knows how tough this can be, she won't punish or mock you for it. She will help you through it, every step of the way.

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy) —

This boy is more perceptive than most give him credit for.

"(Y/N), feeling more darling today?" "...Yeah, wait, how'd you-"

He categorizes sliding around the gender spectrum as "pretty" (fem), "darling" (gn), and "handsome" (masc). You usually don't even have to tell him about how you're presenting/feeling today, he gets it right.

Your boyfriend is a brat but he isn't a useless brat. Contrary to popular belief, he can cook (snacks) and take care of himself just fine. He just leans on you more because...he's a brat.

This is hyper-specific, but Brahms knows how frustrating it feels to look into a mirror and see someone that isn't...you.

So he makes you a mask. It's how he copes and he figured it could help you too. If you like them he'd be more than happy to make you more.

Arts and craft master! Did you see his room? He probably kept himself busy with all sorts of hobbies, so he definitely enjoys handmaking your gifts.

Oh, how he loves to be held by you. He enjoys being enveloped completely, it makes him feel so small and safe.

Loves everything about you. Your voice makes the thoughts in his head quiet to a whisper - the power you have on this man.

So he does not understand why some people are abhorrent when they talk to you.

Yes, the two of you are more or less left alone in the Heelshire Manor/estate. Malcolm occasionally drops by with groceries only to scurry off after some mild-mannered conversation because he doesn't want the ghost of a child to chase him off. But, there's only so much you can do to maintain such a grand building and its surrounding land.

So, you have to call some help once in a while to uphold the maintenance. Most of the time, the local hire are sweet, they enjoy helping you since they're usually served cold drinks and snacks after. The handful of assholes, however, are...assholes.

Brahms seethes as he grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches, you glance at the wall he hides behind as you faintly hear his breathing but just got the interaction over and done with.

Unlike the other slashers in this list, he is at the most disadvantage when it comes to enacting justice but by god, he will try. For you? He'd do anything.

You let out a noise of confusion when Brahms murmurs about you going to the local art supply shop to get him something. "You want me to go to town?" he nods, his curls tickling your neck and shoulder. As you attempt to turn to face him, Brahms lets out a whine - high and pouty. "I've been good!" you sigh, patting his arm that was around your waist. "Alright, Brahmsy, alright".

Unbeknownst to you, Brahms had messaged the transphobic asshole whilst pretending to be you and told them something had happened to whatever it was they worked on while they were here. He'd given you an alibi, people saw you in town after all so he was prepared to have a "talk" with the repairman.

He also does not worry much about you going to the art supply shop as the woman who owns it is a kind old lady whom he sometimes makes you send his crafts - under the guise that you made them, of course.

You returned home with new art supplies in your hand, at ease and humming from the pleasant walk from the gates to the manor.

Brahms stands over a dead body on the back patio, his mask covered in blood splatters as he held an antique ashtray in his hand.

"(Y/N)!" he cheers, walking over the man's barely-there skull before he embraces you.

He'd kill for you but the mess is yours to clean. Your boyfriend isn't perfect.

He'll make you something sweet to drink while you hose down the gore, does that help? Okay, okay, fine, he'll bury the body too.

[CHEST BINDING] He knows when your body has had enough. No, he does not know the appropriate time frame you are supposed to have whilst wearing a binder - he just knows your body so well he knows when it's done for the day. He'll run you a hot bath to help your muscles relax.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES, BURN SCARS] His arts and crafts hobbies practically made him have surgeon's hands. So if you need him to, he'll administer the shot and it won't hurt, just a pinch he promises. As someone who had to go through a few medical procedures due to his burns, he stays by your side when you have to go through anything remotely medical. By the way, despite how hard it is to get testosterone when you live in the middle of nowhere, don't worry, the Heelshire funds will last Brahms and you ten lifetimes. Enjoy it, it's all for you.

Corey Cunningham (Halloween Ends) —

Corey "Babe, wear my jacket you'll look so handsome" Cunningham.

Oh, how this man dotes over you.

If you open his Notes app, you'll find an entire folder dedicated to you. Inside, your boyfriend has written down every date idea you confessed to wanting (even the TikTok links you'd sent regarding the topic), your favourite and least favourite food (your allergies are bolded and if you're on medication, that is also listed) and other things you weren't even aware he remembered much less keep note off.

It's okay if he doesn't wear a helmet but please wear yours.

Loves, loves, loves going on motorcycle rides with you. Your weight pressed against his, your laughter ringing in his ears, the wind in his hair, your arms wrapped around him, the scenery blurring past - he feels like the two of you are young gods. Eternal and immortal, just like his love for you.

Star-gazing dates! Climbing on rooftops of abandoned buildings to have private moments where you both feel like the only people in the world!

He would have been considered a "Golden Retriever" boyfriend but after his character development, he has turned into a "German Shepherd" boyfriend.

Honestly, he'd love to see anyone try to disrespect you. Their words fizzle out on their tongues when he stands behind you with his eyes so dark they resembled mirrors - just dark pools that only reflect the sorry cunt's expression back at them. They didn't know it just yet but they had just signed their death warrants.

Speaking of his eyes - please remind him to keep eye lubricant on him all the time. He stares at people like an owl, they dry out. Doesn't help that he rides his motorcycle without a helmet. Oh! And pretty please remind him to actually keep track of when he needs to buy new contact lenses, he somehow always disregards his eye health. You're basically the only thing keeping them alive - his optician thanks you.

If you tell him you like the way his jacket looks, how the rings on his fingers give you "gender envy", how good his cologne smells, how his jeans cutting makes him look more masculine - baby, just take it.

Referring to the first point - but yeah, dude, just wear his things if you want, he loves it. If you're not his size, then you best be ready to have him buy and alter things for you.

"You'd look cute wearing my work uniform" You pause from whatever it is you're doing and look at your boyfriend as he works on his motorcycle in your garage, "o...kay...?"

Maybe he just has a thing for you wearing his things...

His bloodlust fluctuates, sometimes he's feeling particularly bloodthirsty and sometimes not so much. What is constant though is the gifts he brings back. Does it count as trophies? Robbery? No idea! But the way your eyes light up when he gives you something makes his heart race.

[CHEST BINDING] This man did his research. He keeps an eye on your breathing when you're wearing a binder, gently reminding you to make sure you did so safely.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He holds you and will even offer to administer it. He talks while he does so - just to keep your mind off the needle and he places a kiss over your band-aid every time.

Michael Myers (Halloween (1978 - 1982)) —

As predicted, he stares. Sorry, not sorry. That's just how he communicates, through vibes.

In all seriousness though, Michael does "speak" but it's limited to how his eyes narrow, surprisingly sassy eye-rolls, infamous head tilts, sighs, grunts, growls and occasionally...a huff of laughter.

If you attempt to teach him how to sign, he will pick and choose when to use it but your boyfriend keeps himself easy to read for your sake.

Stalking is his love language. Do not attempt to spot him when he doesn't want to be spotted because you won't. He secretly enjoys seeing you pout when you try though, you look so determined.

Your boyfriend won't negotiate on moving so you're going to have to renovate and fix up his childhood home to make it livable- this will be hard as Michael will be hiding in the basement but thankfully, whoever he did kill he managed to make it look like an accident. It made the whole process take longer than it was supposed to though, you sulked by sleeping at a motel and vehemently locking the windows and doors.

He appreciates you, just shows it quietly. The Shape makes sure your windows are locked, doors too, don't want any sickos breaking in. That's his job.

He'll hunt for you too. You coaxed him to stop killing rats to eat them and kudos to you he doesn't eat them anymore. Rats are just as scared of him as most of Haddonfield. If you don't know how to skin and prepare an animal carcass...well, you better start learning.

Oh, by the way, nobody messes with you. Not even the most insufferable, limp-dicked, conservative in Haddonfield and he annoys everyone! But nah, he's tight-lipped when it comes to you.

Everyone who had ever been rude to you...well...they pop up a few weeks later in various states of fucked up.

Your boyfriend does not understand gender conformity, at all. You will catch him wearing a sleeping kaftan around the house, completely at ease with himself. If you paint his nails, he doesn't fuss about the colour. If you decide to dress more feminine one day he'll just look at you and hum in approval - the same reaction if you dress more masculine.

The guy is called The Shape of Haddonfield, truly a frightening but surprisingly gender-neutral title.

So, do not fret, if anybody dares say anything they will rue the day they were born.

[CHEST BINDING] Ah, he makes it known when you've had enough. Michael will simply stand in front of you and point to his chest, a prompt for you to tell him what time you wore it. Then, he'll just stand and stare until you make a move to take it off. Yes, he has scared the shit out of you by popping out of nowhere whilst you were doing chores outside the house - no, he denies ever huffing a breath of amusement (a laugh in Michael's vocabulary) when you blurb out random exclamations and drop whatever it is you were holding.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He won't administer it. Michael doesn't even like to imagine stabbing you so why would he? So what if it's a needle, he simply refuses to do so. He will instead offer support by placing a hand on your shoulder or knee and if he somehow lost track of time while he was out, he'll return with your favourite snacks (he steals them obviously).

Michael Myers (2007 - 2009) —

Staring but with more...feeling.

Mainly non-verbal but makes communicating easier by signing to you and occasionally whispering.

He is an open book to you in general though so you honestly have no idea why people find him so scary.

Yeah, you have a biased view but how could you not be when your boyfriend showers you with love any chance he gets.

Another arts and crafts lover, his face warms up when you gift him art supplies despite being "expressionless".

He isn't much of a fan of being touched anywhere near his neck or wrists so be wary of that. When he's about to touch you he makes it known by hovering his hand over you. You will need to reassure him he doesn't need to ask for permission every time but he does it anyways.

Aware of his size and strength, finds himself pleased with it despite how hard it is to stalk because he can keep you safe.

Oh, anyone with a shrimp-sized brain is going to have a rough night if they decide to be a dick to you. He will snap their spine over his knee and watch them try to crawl away like the pathetic worm they are.

Your boyfriend is willing to move away from his home once his vengeance is fulfilled.

Roadtrip? Roadtrip!

He is a homebody, if you believe it or not. Michael decorates your home with his artwork and has a good eye for aesthetics.

He wants to dress his beautiful lover (you) if you give him the chance.

Like OG!Michael, he doesn't completely understand why people take gender roles so seriously. Seriously, he can't wrap his mind around it. He honestly finds it all toxic - considering his parents and his sister's shitty boyfriends...why wouldn't he?

He wants you to play with his hair, please play with his hair. He will pass out the minute you do. Big on cuddles, being a Little Spoon is a state of mind not size so please Big Spoon him.

Another stalker, let's just conclude that any variation of Michael Myers just do it because they can. He likes keeping tabs on you is all. When you're working, he tries to keep busy but he just misses you...so don't mind him if you notice him in your peripheral vision whilst working.

[CHEST BINDING] He is good at counting down the minutes in his head. It happens when you're stuck in a mental institution and spend it in partial isolation. So, when he spots you putting on a binder for the day, he starts counting down. Yes, it is accurate and yes, he would prefer if you did take it off once he finishes his countdown - you could seriously hurt your body!

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Curls up behind you, stroking the upper parts of your thighs as he watches you set everything up. He begins humming as you prepare the needle which makes you smile every time.

Billy Looomis & Stu Macher (Scream (1996)) —

Oh boy, it's never a dull day with these two as your boyfriends.

"Black Cat" boyfriend, Billy Loomis and "Doberman" boyfriend, Stu Macher.

Will not elaborate...defeats the purpose of this entire thing if I don't though so fine -

Billy is calm, not calmer than Stu because that's actually quite an easy category to best him in. Billy is calm. He keeps the balance of your relationship. But he is a menace himself.

He stalks and slithers into your room when he pleases, holds you against him when he feels like it - which, by the way, does not mean he'll be mean if you lean against him or touch him, he just won't reciprocate but it is still welcomed. He also has a habit of pushing against your palm when you run your fingers through his hair or stroke his face. See? Black Cat boyfriend.

If you catch him in a bad mood, he can be snarky but Stu came up with the idea of ending every "bitch fight" with an "I love you". It helped a lot.

Your Doberman boyfriend holds you any chance he gets. It's one of the only ways he keeps still. Billy and you have to pin him down between the two of you to have a peaceful cuddle.

Stu is also much more protective/possessive than the two of you combine. His lovers are his alone. He will smile all teeth and gums and make people feel at ease but Stu is one scary man when he notices someone taking an interest in either of you. Billy and you have felt shivers of fear and anticipation down his spine when you see the gears in Stu's brain switch from "Stu" to "Ghostface".

Oh, oh, how sharp their smiles would be if a transphobe fucked around because they will make them find out. Not because they want you to get verbally abused or harassed! God, no!

They want you to watch them murder them. They will ask you to choose how to end them, how to play with them and what pieces should be found last.

Pieces of clothing are always shared, with how often everyone sleeps over it was inevitable. Accessories as well, hell, Stu managed to lose his body wash twice and he's been to both of your houses - it wasn't there either! Stu just buys things in bulk at this point.

Billy is really good at cutting and styling hair. If you ask, he will help you with yours - regardless of what style you want. If your hair texture is different from his own he will research about it to the best of his abilities.

Kisses with them are so messy. They always want to share and always at the same damn time - you get dizzy just trying to keep up in the mess of lips, teeth and tongue.

Stu throws parties, loves showing you off and Billy is there to whisk you upstairs if you get overwhelmed.

Both Ghostfaces have called you before. They tease you with lines like, "You got a boyfriend, handsome?" or "Damn, beautiful, your boyfriends get you all to themselves? Lucky boys"

[CHEST BINDING] "(Y/N)! How long have you been wearing your binder?" Stu calls from his kitchen, returning with a bowl of popcorn once you answered while you lay across Billy's front on the couch. "Been a while, right?" Billy said, a hand coming to rest on your back "Need a break?" Stu makes a noise of agreement as he lifts your legs and places them on his lap. "Want me to help, baby?" Stu asks.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Billy helps you with administering the shot while Stu holds you, sometimes switching around. Stu has accidentally stabbed himself with the needle - he apologized profusely as Billy tells him he's contaminated the entire thing (you roll your eyes fondly at your boyfriends, Ghostface looks anything but scary when the two of them are squabbling on the bathroom floor).

Beauregard "Bo" Sinclair (House of Wax) —

I need to get this off my chest, Bo thinks hats are a staple of masculinity...close second are suits and ties, and cars come in third.

He gifts you hats. His favourite was the cowboy hat a victim no longer needed. While placing it on your head he made an obligatory sex joke, it was right there you can't possibly expect him not to.

Bo prefers for you not to make yourself known to victims, he knows you can handle yourself, he just worries.

That and he gets pissed when someone flirts with you. He gets even more pissed when they outright disrespect your identity and labels you as "weird".

He won't even pretend to feel sorry when Vincent questions where their bodies are while Lester grimaces when he sees their state.

If you're someone with long hair please be aware that Bo's eyes will shift to your wrists every so often if there are hairbands around them once he spots it. Anything that is too "snug" around your wrist will make Bo feel uneasy, he will ask you to take it off in an uncharacteristically soft tone that soon turns snappy if you attempt to prod.

When you see the marks on your boyfriend's wrists and/or find his baby seat you'll understand why.

Though he's a hardass to his brothers, he feels so much relief in knowing they love and trusts you just as much as he does.

Touchy - PDA hardly bothers him so why should he hold himself back when you're his darling lover.

Likes to tuck his hand in the back pocket of your pants (he pinches when he's feeling playful).

He rambles about cars. One night, as he was working on repairing a car, he rambles and slows to a stop when he feels as though he was talking too much but when you reassure him that you're listening and interested...his cheeks turn red.

Bo cooks. Not frequently, certainly not his usual task either, but if everyone else is busy/tired he rolls his sleeves and makes a classic and feel-good Southern meal.

[CHEST BINDING] Bo finds himself worrying. The heat and humidity probably don't help your case. He tries to convince you to wear tank tops or simply just your binder during hot days. Sometimes he even gruffs out you don't need to wear it at all as there's no one else around and the people that are there are the Sinclairs who know you. He won't push you but reminds you to keep yourself hydrated and not to push it.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Bo asks if you need help, won't intrude if you say no but he does squeeze in an extra kiss once you're done.

Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax) —

Vincent Sinclair gives me "White Cat" vibes. So regal looking, so calm and so adamant about not being needy when in fact...he is.

Your boyfriend is an artist. You are his muse. Tale as old as time but why fix what's not broken?

Nonverbal and uses sign language or simple gestures to communicate. He is a bit self-conscious of his laughter but oh how you love hearing it. It makes him squirm every time you stare at him with nothing but love in his eyes.

Refuses to have you interact with the victims. He makes sure you stay in his room, safe and sound.

Brat.

He was basically the favourite twin - he can be bratty even if he tries to deny it.

If you say "no" to him he genuinely gets wide-eyed and makes a whining noise. What do you mean you didn't want to stay in his basement to accompany him while he worked? So what if it's sweltering hot out and the basement feels like Hell on earth! Spend time with him!

Baby talk always makes him burst into fits of giggles - you could be as unfunny as a heart attack but the minute you start speaking in baby talk he loses it.

He got anxious at the thought of his brothers not liking you. There's no reason why they would dislike you but he just worries. They love you though and he is so relieved that you get along so well.

Feel free to "paint" his wax figures. If his mask is starting to get uncomfortable or he just felt like he wanted to make a new one, you're free to go crazy on his old one.

Your boyfriend complains about wax clumping his hair. You now make it a habit to either tie it up, using a claw clip to hold it back, or braiding his hair before he toils away in the basement.

Genuinely loves spending time with you, even if you're just chilling adjacently from each other. He made a designated (Y/N) space in the basement where you can do pretty much anything in peace with Vincent nearby.

The victim said what about you? There's no way he will immortalize a transphobe in this town. He burns them alive after he paralyses them from the neck down, relishing in their screams as they turn into nothing but ash.

You notice his hearing is unbalanced/muffled on one side of his face and how he seems as though he anticipates touch all the time on that side. You make sure you're always approaching him on his "good" side - he is eternally thankful.

Total cuddle bug when you two are alone, prefers being the Big Spoon as he tucks his head at the crown of your head. He snores sometimes if he's really tired.

[CHEST BINDING] Vincent educated himself on this topic. Honestly, like Bo, he worries if you overexert yourself with the heat and at one point discusses with you if you'd rather have your chest permanently flat/smaller. He'd need proper equipment but he'd do anything to ensure you're safe and content.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Parks himself in front of you and holds his hand out. Stares at you while you blink owlishly at him. His eye squishes into a crescent shape as he smiles once you hand over the needle to him. Let him take care of you, you're his darling muse!

Lester Sinclair (House of Wax) —

He's the chaotic "Pitbull" boyfriend!

This sweet lad actually has trouble accepting help. It makes him uncomfortable if he thinks about it too deeply. He just found himself in scenarios where his usefulness was always at the forefront of why he was wanted, it's hard to get out of that mindset.

He loves you for helping him though, just have no idea how to articulate it properly. All blushes, stutters and squirms.

Your boyfriend gets excited when new victims come around, eager to loot through their things. Especially when someone has a similar style as you!

He gets self-conscious of how he smells because of the things he works with so he also loots tons of cologne and body sprays - you two basically have a goddamn Baths & Body Works on your bathroom vanity.

You two make a game of it, changing your scents for the day and deciding if it was shit or decent. Jonesy's vote is heavily influential.

Date nights are heavenly. Lester uses his nicer truck for outings. You two grab a bite and try to find new places to experiment since Ambrose is a ghost town and you two need to experience more than just death. Afterwards, he finds a lookout point and you three (yes, Jonesy follows) pile out to the back and curl up with the radio playing some cheesy country love songs.

If Jonesy is dropped off at the twin's place, the PG ratings climb the ladder.

Lester doesn't consider himself a violent man. He doubts he even wants to be if he is completely honest. But when someone flirts with you he feels this unbridled rage rise to his chest and down to his fist.

He spits at their feet as he tugs you away, his dominant arm already springing up in preparation for a punch when he feels them grab at his shoulder.

Grins when you scold him afterwards at home, nursing his bruised cheek.

If he's busy, Jonesy follows you to do chores!

By the way, that dog and your boyfriend always seem to know when some dick-for-brains are near you and steer you away. Will avoid confrontation when necessary.

Not above telling on the victims that shouted insults your way. Baby brother privilege!

His brothers adore you! So they find no trouble in slaughtering someone who dared spoke badly of you and upsetting Lester.

[CHEST BINDING] Lester is pretty observant of your cues. Quietly reminds you of how long you've been wearing your binder and offers to work out all the kinks in your back. He reads about it! Vincent helped him out as well. Lester peppers kisses all over your back once he's done, making sure you're practically melted against the bed once he's done.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He has slight hand tremors, minuscule but it worsens when he focuses on not twitching so he watches you as you do your thing, ruffling your hair and asking if you'd like anything to eat.

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anna1306 · 1 year

Text

This idea was stuck in my mind too strongly not to write it c:

Rule

Poly!Ghostface x Reader

Warnings: discussion of death, death of secondary character, blood

Being new wasn't an easy deal. It didn't matter whether you were new in school, work, company or anywhere else. In any case there would be side-eyes, whispers and a lot of interest on you.

You weren't exactly used to the attention. You were from small, quiet city where something loud happened obviously, but it was only from time to time. And still your family decided that you should try it out there, in bigger town, with more opportunities. You didn't oppose to that, but it was something completely new. You had to redo your whole lifestyle practically.

You parked your car near the school and sighed. It would be okay. It would be alright. You could do that. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. You should at least try. There was always an option to return back to your family after all. Finally you gathered your thoughts and left the car.

On your way to school you met with couple of strange looks, but tried your hardest to dismiss them. You met with the teacher that was assigned to show you around and it turned out fine, you almost remembered everything. The last stop was your first class. While teacher was introducing you, you looked at your new classmates. Couple of them caught your eye, but you still didn't let your gaze linger on them for long. Even if they were pretty. Even if one especially hot brunette returned your look, and then turned away to whisper something to his more giddy blonde friend.

But the lesson was normal. Everything was pretty much normal. It scared you to some extent. Normal... wasn't your thing. You were paranoid and you started to overthink that these silent looks were holding something behind them.

So you decided to calm yourself down and distance yourself from all the noise. Noone had introduced themselves to you yet, so you could sit alone without awkward interactions. On the lunch break you went out of the building, sitting under the tree. Sandwich in one hand, book in the other one, you finally managed to calm yourself down.

"Hey there!" You jumped in surprise, looking at the girl in front of you. There were two of them actually, but the one who greeted you, stood a little bit closer to you. Blonde one with wide smile and bright clothes. "I'm Tatum. Mind if we sit?"

"Uhm... No, not at all." You smiled sheepishly, coughing from the sandwich that got stuck in your throat. The girl with dark hair passed you the bottle of water.

"Sorry if we scared you. I'm Sidney." She offered you a small smile.

"Y/N. It's fine, I was too invested in the book." You shook your head, forcing yourself to relax a bit. You were ought to have at least couple of conversations, you just had to not look freaky during those.

"What is that?" Tatum asked, biting an apple. You smiled, closing the book.

"Poetry. My elder brother gave it to me before I came here, so I decided I should give it a try." They looked cool and easy-going. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard fitting in here and all you worries were up for nothing.

"That's boring!" You jumped in surprise once again, when tall blonde guy from your first class that day plopped on the grass near Tatum.

"If you can't read, Stu, that doesn't mean that it's not interesting for everybody else." Tatum scoffed and looked at you. "Don't mind Stu, he can be a lot sometimes."

"I have a lot of something, if you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows, looking at you with a smirk.

"I have never heard lamer pickup line... " You mumbled to yourself. But the company heard you pretty well, Sidney giggled, while Tatum loudly laughed.

"You are gonna fit just fine. But don't worry. He barks, but not bites." She winked at you. You smiled a bit in response, distracting yourself with more sandwich.

"I am deeply wounded." Stu playfully put his hand to the forehead, pretending to be hurt. You couldn't lie, he was cute. And funny to some extent. But he was too much, you weren't used to that. Oh well, another new thing for you.

"Can I look? Or is it too personal?" Sidney asked, motioning to your book. You moved it closer to your side, shaking your head. There were so much notes from your brother, most of it were filled with your inside jokes or personal things. You didn't want anyone to even get a glimpse of it.

"Sorry, no." You smiled awkwardly and quickly changed the theme. "I meant to ask, I am still bad with directions here, as I am obviously new. I have biology next, maybe you could help me to get there?"

"I can!" Stu grinned, excitedly raising his arm, as if he was volunteering at something. "We have the same class!"

"Lord, have mercy on your soul." Sidney joked, making you smile a bit.

You sat there a little longer, the girls making sure to know you a bit more and vice versa, as you gave each other bits of your personal life. You didn't want to spill it all, you were closed person, and your family wasn't a simple one, but still you told them that you liked poetry, movies and rock music. Stu occasionally insert his opinion, making the atmosphere lighter and even leading the talk into completely other direction.

"Finally, we are alone." Macher smirked, when you both parted your ways with the girls. You smiled awkwardly.

"You are way too flirty for someone with a girlfriend." In the past fifteen minutes you learned that this was just how Stu was, now you getting used to it was just the matter of time. The boy scoffed.

"There is no fun in being sad and serious all the time, you know?" He was light, almost jumping with every step. You smiled at this, trying to remember the way to the class at the same time. None of the people you knew before had the same lightness to them. "So how is our citadel of boring knowledge? Different from your past one?"

"I... I was home-schooled, so... I honestly can't make comparison." You admitted shyly. Stu suddenly gasped and stopped right in front of you, looking at you with wide eyes. You stopped with him.

"No way! You have never been to school before?!" You shrugged, not understanding his excitement.

"Yeah... We... I am from small town, our school wasn't big enough, so I was at home." Macher laughed excitedly, grabbing your shoulders.

"You are so lucky!!! Tell me more about it. Who was your teacher? Your mom?" You shivered, anxiety slowly crawling back into your soul, as the loud boy definitely drew attention to you and standing in the middle of corridor wasn't the best place for flashbacks. But before you could say anything else, someone suddenly smacked Stu on the back of his head.

"You are annoyingly loud, dude." You looked to the side and saw a brunette, that caught your eye from earlier. He looked you up and down. "I hope he didn't scare you."

"No... Just... Too much. First day and everything." You breathed out with a nervous smile. The boy nodded.

"I know the feeling. Billy. Billy Loomis. And you are Y/N. I remember the introduction." Strange, but you felt more at ease with his presence. Stu got quieter, rubbing his head and letting you go, looking between you and Billy, but he didn't try to be loud anymore. That sudden change of character was a bit weird, but... You set the thought aside.

"Good to meet you. Uhm... I think the class is starting soon."

"Yeah, let's go, we don't want to be late because of someone's never shutting mouth." Billy glared at Stu. They exchanged looks and suddenly Macher went back to being his loud, overreacting himself, bickering with his more calm and silent friend back and forth, as you were following them to the class. Something here was fishy. They were strange, even if you couldn't explain what it was exactly. But that was definitely better than quiet normallness of this place.

***

"What the hell did you do with it?" You straightened up, looking at Stu. He was too busy whispering something to Tatum. Probably something lewd, knowing him. "Hey, earth to Stu!" The boy raised his eyes to look at you.

"Huh? Yes, my lovely mechanic?" He smiled widely at you, probably being concentrated on Tatum in his arms still.

"What the hell did you do to your car that it's so broken, but still running?" You looked at him exhasperatedly. You were regretting the decision to tell the guys that you know your ways around cars. The minute Macher heard about that, he asked you to take a look at his car. And it was awful.

"Magic fingers." He smirked, wiggling his fingers. You rolled your eyes, turning back to the car. What did you expect from him? Serious answer? It had been couple of weeks of you in this town, you should have get used to his persona.

"You are really good with it." Sidney noticed, sitting in the chair, warming under the sun. The garage door was open to let the warm air in, and music was playing, but she spoke loud and clear for you to hear her. "I mean, car stuff." You scoffed.

"My brother is... Kinda a mechanic. He usually took me with him to the repair shop, when I was younger. And I picked a thing or two... How in the living hell this is connected?!" You groaned, disconnecting the wrong tube. If your brother was here, he would be so angry at Stu for doing this to his car. Thankfully, you weren't your brother. Only tiny bit like him.

You were too concentrated on your work, figuring out what was wrong here and what to do to fix it. Even if Stu could drive just fine, it would still be easier if the car would be repaired. You could almost hear his whistles and screams, when the drive would be fast and smooth. And honestly, you couldn't wait to see him excited like that.

"Y/N, maybe you should..."

"Fuck off while I'm busy!" You cursed at the sudden interruption and pushed someone who came closer to you before you could realise what you were doing. And when you did understood what just happened, you raised the eyes to see Billy. With an empty glass. And wet t-shirt. "Oh my god, I am so sorry. I got so into work I forgot everything. That was so rude of me."

"It's... Fine." He muttered, looking at your face. Something in his eyes made you shiver. Something that was too familiar, but still unpredictable. Something that almost made you check the garage for ways around. "Just thought you got overheated and needed a break."

"Yeah... You are probably right." His face softened, but the glint of something you saw in his eyes stayed somewhere in his face. You just knew it. You could almost feel it. "I will fix your t-shirt, so sorry again."

"Wow, someone wants to see Billy without his shirt." Stu whistled, breaking your strange eye contact. You looked at him, noticing his too satisfied smirk. Like he was enjoying the situation. These two from the start were the only ones who didn't look normal to you. To others - maybe. But you knew all to well to look behind the scene.

"If I wanted to look at the man, who's taken, I would search movies with Tom Cruise." You blurted out without thinking. In a second the garage was filled with laughter and Tatum's discussion on the theme of hot actors, and the feeling of something weird in the air disappeared. But when you went back to the car, you could feel eyes on the back of your head and on your hands.

***

"Who's Casey?" You asked Tatum, as you were walking to the school. The whole town it seemed, was full of talks and whispers. And the more information there was, the harder it was for you to understand what was really going on.

"The girl Sidney was sitting in English with. And her boyfriend was the captain of football team." She answered, watching Prescott joining you both. "They say that they both were gutted, like from side to side."

"They say a lot of things, but what is the truth?" You sighed, walking with them, mind filled with thoughts. You didn't know that your move here would result in you finding yourself in this events.

"Who knows? Police won't tell us the truth. But if you are curious, I can bribe Dewey."

"Don't... All of it is clearly enough to get the basic idea." You shook your head, somehow feeling sick to your stomach. Your mind was convinced that you were smelling sweet, rotten scent in the air. Hotness rolled of your skin, like you were in a stuff place or near candles. Your mind wondered somewhere else. Suddenly there was rough voice in your head telling you to follow the rules, so you wouldn't get hurt, to stay back and don't interfere.

"...just imagine." You shivered, realising you were in the classroom already. You were too gone in your own head to remember how you got to your desk. Stu was turned to you, grinning like crazy. Like always. He probably was mumbling about something for quite some time.

"Sorry... What?" You asked him, looking at him puzzled, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I said, imagine yourself on her place. It must be awful." He giggled. Horror fanatic. You shook your head absent-mindedly. You knew the rules of surviving. You knew how to not attract the attention and live through this. You shouldn't be worried about it, but you couldn't help it.

"I have a knife from my brother." You answered quietly, looking away from him. Stu whistled, licking his lips, his eyes are burning with genuine interest.

"Don't tell cops that." Billy scoffed, sitting at desk in front of you with a huff. "They asked me if I was a hunter." He added.

"Come on, Billy, it couldn't be our Y/N. Look at them. They can't hurt a fly." Stu put a hand on your shoulder, shaking you a bit.

"Yes. I have never killed a person. I can't kill." You scoffed nervously, too deep in your thoughts again, not noticing the glare from both of the boys.

***

"Why the fuck this dick wasn't at his home." Breathed out Stu. Billy shushed him, adjusting the gloves.

"It doesn't matter. Jason will get what's coming to him. But his girlfriend should go down tonight." He whispered, checking the voice changer and going over every detail of their plan for today one more time. They were near the house of one of the most rudest bitches Billy had ever met. And he wanted to teach all the town a lesson. Even if it would be through hands of Stu. Loomis would gladly just watch the scene go down. He called the number, they both were ready to start.

"Yeah?" Loomis froze for a second. That was definitely not Britney's voice in the phone. But he was sure that she would be alone, he and Stu learned all about her day beforehand.

"Can I hear Brit?" He still asked with changer near his mouth. If there was only two of them, there shouldn't have been any problems.

"Oh, no, she's busy. Bye." He could swear he heard a giggle, before the phone died. And not like someone just hung up on him, but like something happened to the phone itself.

"Dude? What is it?" Stu looked at him nervously. He couldn't just sit there and wait. He was ready to pounce at any moment, but Loomis was concerned and shook his head.

"There's something wrong. Come on, let's get a closer look inside..."

There were three victims already. Two of them died on the same night. There were too much talks. Too much noise. And it was never-ending. After failed attack on Sidney and Billy's arrest and quick freeing of him you only grew more nervous. With the situation, with yourself... Besides, family on the other side of the rare phonecalls you had with them, weren't pleased to learn that you or even them could be in danger. You had to talk with them for a long time to convince them to let you stay there, as you didn't want to go back to old and small town. Yet. But also you had to find the way to get all of your emotions out and not just in chit-chat with Tatum. You had to find the exit to your anger, home-sickness and anxiety. It was just...

"...too much, you know?" You said quietly, rocking in the kitchen chair. "I am used to one lifestyle. And then I moved. And got used to quietness here. And then this. I'm just going crazy, do you understand?"

"I can't..." The girl before you whimpered. You sighed, that was called an ungrateful listener. Billy would have listened and even answer something or give an advice. But he was too pretty and had a lot on his plate to talk with him like that.

"Look, all I am saying that even if I missed this... Adrenaline rush, screams and blood and tension, I never expected someone to be so absorbed with one theme for days. It is tiring to hear about murders and never getting a rest from it, you know?"

"You did all of that!" She suddenly screamed. You rolled your eyes tiredly. Even Stu listened better, and he had an attention span of a toothpick.

"Damn, I get that you are blonde, but I don't think that you are that dumb. And last time I checked you weren't deaf." You stood up, noticing how she immediately tensed up. It was surprisingly nice - feeling such kind of power over people. You made two slow steps to her. "Casey, her boyfriend and that boy from two days ago - aren't my victims. I don't kill people. I don't kill them at all, that is the rule."

"You killed Jason!" You laughed at her face in response and looked at the lifeless body between you two, bending to it.

"No. You did." You answered with a laugh, shaking your head. "I just hurt him, wounded him with a knife. He could have made it with quick medical assistance, if you didn't pull the knife out so roughly."

"You sick fucker..." She whimpered, sobbing. Tainted with blood on her hands, face and blonde hair, she almost looked pretty. You guessed you could see now where your brother was taking inspiration from.

"Aren't we all?" You licked your lips, enjoying the emotional relief maybe a little bit too much.

"I will tell everyone."

"No, you won't." You scoffed, stepping away from the girl, as you straightened your posture. "Firstly, you won't live long enough to tell the story, you will kill yourself. Secondly, everyone will think that this was Ghostface doing, not mine. No one will think about two killers at the same time at the same space, there isn't even such cliche in horror movies. Thirdly..."

She suddenly launched herself forward. Grabbing the bloody knife from the counter, she raised her hand for a strike, but... You stepped back, hiding behind the table. In attempt to chase you, Britney ran after you, but... She stumbled in the slippery pool of blood. Trying to soften the fall, the girl instinctively put her hands before her, forgetting about the knife. She fell on the floor with a loud thud. With her face on the blade.

"Great. Why the hell they never listen?" You laughed out tiredly. You weren't lying to her one bit. You didn't kill a soul. Always playing the luring role, always on the background, while others were doing their work. But you knew how victims were. How they behaved and what they did in situations like that. It didn't change one bit. Never did.

You sighed, looking at the now lifeless body, going around the table. You had to turn the girl on the back to take out the knife from her head. After all it was handmade by your brother. More so, if you were using the cover of Ghostface... He had never left the weapon behind.

Now it was your time to go. There was always a timer in your head, when you should show up, what should you say and when you should hide.

You stopped at the door though. You could swear you were being watched. But it felt almost like you were back at home. You weren't in danger. Just someone was overwatching you. Still, you were tense by this, making you remember all of the other rules. So many mixed signals...

You shook your head, going out and closing the door behind yourself, only then taking off your gloves. All that mattered was that now you knew how to let all of your emotions out. You snickered to yourself, walking away from the property. You really took after your family.

"Oh my god... Did you see that?" Stu laughed, hysterically and excitedly at the same time, closing his mouth with his hand.

"Yes, and I heard most of that, you ask me this for the fifth time." Answered Billy, watching from the open window of the kitchen, how you walked out of the house and went away, like nothing happened. They hid near it almost for entire ordeal, not entirely believing what was unraveling before them.

"We definitely have to pay them a visit, dude. For shits and giggles, for scares, I don't know. I just want them." Stu rarely got this excited, even if he was giddy all the time. But this whole scene made him all more interested in you. It made him look at you from the other perspective and rethink all of the strange moments with you. You were pretty, funny, with silver tongue and witty comebacks. He knew there was something more, and he was right. And Billy felt it too. And they both wanted the same thing now. Loomis smirked, and his wicked grin resembled one on Stu's face.

"Of course we visit them... I want to see what else our dearest Y/N Sinclair is capable of..."

#the scream #scream #the scream 1996 #scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher #ghostface #poly!ghostface #ghostface x reader #scream imagine #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral #house of wax #sinclair #house of was imagine

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the-cannibal · 1 year

Text

Sinclair brothers X insecure reader

haha guess who is feeling super insecure recently and needs some poly Sinclair comfort? This girl! Hahaaaa so yeah this is pretty long. Female reader - she/her and you is used. there is some bad talk about body image (weight to be more specific) and stretch marks. If that upsets you then please skip this. Remember you are beautiful, handsome, amazing, gorgeous, and so many other words. There is also mentions of anxiety and depression and medication for said things.

You sighed, looking into the mirror, gripping the sink tightly with both hands. Jesus you looked like shit. You hadn't been sleeping well the past couple nights, and the bags under your eyes were proof of that. You tried sleeping upstairs with Bo, in the basement with Vincent, and over at Lester's little hut to see if maybe you just needed a change of scenery. But deep down you knew scenery had nothing to do with this. Lifting up your shirt and staring at your belly in the mirror, you knew the real reason. With a shaky breath you grabbed your stomach with one hand, giving it a hard jiggle and watching it bounce up and down. It made you feel sick. Then your hands made their way to your hips and thighs, trailing all the red stretch marks that covered your body. "Disgusting..." You mumbled to yourself. "Absolutely hideous. How could they love you when you look like such a pig." You shot insult after insult to yourself, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks.

You couldn't help but look in the mirror and continue to pick out every little thing you deemed "wrong" about yourself. You couldn't remember the last time you were happy about a photo you were in. Lester had found a polaroid camera a few days ago and begged you to let him take photos of you. And how could you say no to him and his cute little puppy dog eyes. He took pictures of you sitting on the back of his truck, laying in the grass, and his personal favorites, several of him kissing your lips and cheeks which caused you to grin and howl in laughter in the photos. But you saw nothing but ugliness. Lester looked absolutely adorable with his lips puckered out kissing you, and giving you a big grin as he watched you lean into him giggling. But you saw your puffy cheeks, and that chin you absolutely hated. Bo always made comments on how gorgeous you were, wolf whistling as you went by, calling you his "sexy mama" like a wannabe Elvis. But you didn't agree with him. How did he think you were sexy when you had these thick red marks on your hips and thighs that were so visible due to wearing shorts. God you hated the Louisiana heat... Bo was the gorgeous one, not you. And Vincent. Oh sweet sweet Vincent. Your artistic boyfriend. He loved to capture your beauty in his art. You were his muse as he called you. But why you? There were so many better muses out there, ones that could give him better art if he wanted. Hell, the wax figures he made looked better than you. They didn't have thighs that touched and flattened out to the size of Texas when you sat. The didn't have bellies that stuck out. Angry and sad tears continued to fall down your cheeks. But then your crying was interrupted by a knocking. "You alright in there, darlin'?" Your breath hitched. Bo. "Tell her dinner is done!" You could hear Lester shout from downstairs. "She probably heard ya'!" You heard Bo shout back, grumbling under his breath. That almost made you laugh. "Darlin'?" Bo asked again, this time concern was lacing his voice. Quickly you pulled your shirt back down. "Yeah I'm alright!" You wiped away your tears quickly, mentally hyping yourself up to hold the rest in. Opening the door you were met with Bo, whose grin quickly fell as soon as he saw your state. "What's wrong?" He asked, cupping your cheek. "Nothin!" You said with a smile. "I'm just gotta run to the store and grab some things." You said as you quickly grabbed your jacket, zipping it all the way up, and putting your shoes on quickly. "Whoa what? Its late, Y/n. Can't whatever you need wait until tomorrow?" Bo said as he followed you down the stairs. "If you wanna try and tell the blood to stay in my body this week, please be my guest." You made up the excuse, hoping Bo would just drop it and let you go. "Well just come eat real quick, then I'll go with you." "No, no, it's quite alright! You boys eat, I'll eat when I get back." You smiled at him. But before you could slip out the door, Vincent walked in the hall. Shit. 'What's going on?' He sighed, very confused as to why you two were not at the table yet. "She's trying to skip out on us." Bo said, making you roll your eyes. 'Why? Do you not wanna eat?' Vincent asked you. "I just need to get out..." You mumbled. "Why? Did we do something?" Lester said as he walked in. Fuck, now you're surrounded. "No! Of course not! I just... Need to get out..." Your voice dropped at the last part. "Just please go eat, I'll be back soon." Your eyes dropped to the floor. God you were probably being such an annoyance to them right now... 'We made your favorite soup,' Vincent tried to coax you to the table. The boys knew how much you loved soup. 'You should eat while it's hot. You always say soup isn't as good re heated.' "I..." You could seem to come up with an excuse.

"Y/n?" Bo said your name, but you couldn't hear. You body began shaking, breathing becoming quick and unsteady as your hands gripped your hair and yanked on it. Lester quickly went to your side, shushing you as he slowly and softly brought you down to sit on the floor. "Hey hey, shhh, it's okay Love, it's okay. We're here. Take some deep breaths okay? Can you do what Vincent's doing? Breathe with Vinny, Y/n." Vincent sat down in front of you, placing your hands on his chest as he slowly took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out through his nose. You needed to follow him. Do what he was doing. But no matter how hard you tried you couldn't. And that only made you panic more. "Shit!" Bo said as he came down to the ground too. "Let's try somethin' else. What do you see, Y/n?" Bo asked, rubbing his hands up and down your arms too. try and get you back to them. "U-um... I see t-the floor..." You shakily made out. Bo lightly lifted your head up. "How bout now, what do you see now Y/n?" Lester's worried face, Vincent's scared eyes, Bo's concerned grip... "My boyfriends..." You made out. "That's right, Y/n, we're right here. Try and do some deep breaths like Vincent again." Slowly and shakily you were able to finally copy Vincent. Once you got your breathing under control you finally could look up and really see them. See how worried you made them. With tears spilling your eyes you flung yourself into Vincent's open arms, violent sobs escaping you as he rubbed your back and placed his head onto of yours, wax mask lips ghosting kisses across your skull. Bo and Lester went to each side of you, Lester running his hands through your hair, while Bo lightly traced shapes onto your back and legs. "Talk to us, Y/n." Lester whispered. You didn't want to. You wanted to sit there on the floor until it swallowed you whole. But you also knew your boys wouldn't let that. "I fucking hate myself!" You sobbed out. You felt the boys all freeze as they look at each other. "Why's that?" Bo asked. "B-Because! My depression is back and is kicking my ass, my anxiety doesn't seem to ever get better, I feel useless all the time and honestly I think you all deserve better than me! My meds made me gain weight, and not just a little! I gained thirty fucking pounds! I feel and look disgusting! You guys shouldn't have to look at me all the time, let alone date me! And-!" "Whoa whoa whoa, slow your horses." Bo interrupted. "Y/n you are not useless. Far from it. And don't you dare say we don't deserve you. Ever. You don't decide that. You are an amazing girl and we are lucky to have you in our lives. The fact that you put up with not one, but all three of us is frankly amazing." Bo said. "And don't you dare say that shit about yourself. You ain't disgusting, far from it. You want disgusting? Go look at the pit full of corpses, that's disgusting." Vincent pulled away from you, wiping your tears on the back of his sweater sleeve. 'You are gorgeous, Y/n. A perfect piece of art.' He signed. You huffed, looking away from them. "You're just saying that..." "No we aren't," Lester spoke up. "We've seen a lot of people come into this town, but none of them have come anywhere near your beauty." "I gained thirty pounds, Les..." "And who gives a damn? Because I certainly don't, and I don't think these two do either." You looked over at the two who were nodding along with Lester. Bo lightly kissed your jaw. "Wether you gain weight or not we will still love you and find you stunning'." 'This,' Vincents hands trailed your body, making you gasp and blush. 'Is beauty. Might as well call you Aphrodite.' You laughed, a genuine laugh, and lightly shoved the artist, making the boys grin at you. "Alright now you're pushing it!"

"We mean it, Y/n." Lester said. "It doesn't matter what you look like." Bo traced his fingers across your stretch marks. 'Doesn't matter how full your cheeks look to you.' Vincent cupped your cheeks, softly rubbing his thumbs across them. "Or how full your belly is." Lester placed kisses across your belly, making you giggle from his facial hair tickling you. "We love you for you." And you weren't quite sure who said that. perhaps all of them. But what you did know was that you had three boys that absolutely loved you.

#house of wax 2005 #slashers x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #house of wax x reader #poly sinclairs #sinclair brothers #sinclair brothers x reader

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bisexual-horror-fan · 4 months

Text

Do-Over-December Masterlist.

December 1st. Red Lace. Freddy Krueger. NSFW.

December 4th. Fireplace Sex. Mayor Buckman. NSFW.

December 5th. Mistletoe. Leslie Vernon. NSFW.

December 8th. Threesome. Poly!Chiffany. NSFW.

December 10th. Mirror Sex. Bo Sinclair. NSFW.

December 11th. Candy Cane. Poly!Ghostface. NSFW.

December 14th. Blindfold. NN! Freddy Krueger. NSFW.

December 16th. 69. Sam Wescott. NSFW.

December 17th. Choking. Vincent Sinclair. NSFW.

December 18th. Public Sex. Doc Halloran. NSFW.

December 19th. Ice And Handcuffs. Herbert West. NSFW.

December 20th. Role Reversal. Billy Loomis. NSFW.

December 24th. Santa And Spanking. Freddy Krueger. NSFW.

December 26th. Sugar And Knife play. Buddy Swanson. NSFW.

December 28th. Red Lipstick. Lester Sinclair. NSFW.

December 30th. Begging. Leslie Vernon. NSFW.

December 31st. New Year's Sex. Stu Macher. NSFW.

#Slasher x reader #Do-Over-December #BHF writing #BHF masterlist #Freddy Krueger x reader #Poly!Ghostface x reader #Poly!Chiffany x reader #Herbert West x reader #Leslie Vernon x reader #Bo Sinclair x reader #Lester Sinlair x reader #Vincent Sinclair x reader #Stu Macher x reader #Billy Loomis x reader #Doc Halloran x reader #Sam Wescott x reader #Buddy Swanson x reader

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visceravalentines · 2 years

Note

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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loveandmurders · 6 months

Text

You belong to Ambrose I (poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Hey everyone, I'm happy to finally post the first part of this imagine.

I really hope you'll enjoy it <3

Warnings: no proof reading, a few strong words, angst, dangerous!Lester, mentions of violence, blood and murders, morally grey reader.

“Hey, mom, what do you think Ambrose looks like now?” you heard yourself asking your mother without even meaning to.

The woman sent you a quick glance before her attention went back on the food she was preparing on the kitchen table.

“Why?” she sternly asked back and you tried to shrug it off, no matter how embarrassed you were starting to feel about the whole conversation you just brought up.

“Don’t know. I’m just planning a road trip with friends and we’ll go close back to where Ambrose is…was. I noticed it wasn’t even marked on maps anymore” you explained and your mother hummed

“Then you got your answer. Ambrose must be gone.” she said “Like the brothers you used to love so much” she replied and sent you another look, as you glanced down at your lap, in shame.

You should have known better than to talk about Ambrose to your mother. The woman had always wanted to pretend it had been a terrible nightmare.

“Mom…” you whispered

“I’ve never understood why you were so fond of them. Your dad either. They were a terrible influence on you. I’m happy you decided to burn the bridges with them and that you never went back to Ambrose. There was nothing for you there. And those people were troublesome and violent and… freaks. You deserved way better than them.” she continued and you resisted the urge to take their defence. They weren’t freaks, they were… a great part of your life and now a great hole inside your chest. “What was their name again?” your mother asked.

“Sinclairs” you instantly replied before biting your tongue

“Ah yes. Well, I’m glad you didn’t become one” she continued and you frowned at that.

“What do you mean, mom?” you wondered with a tilt of your head

“The eldest one, when he came back to Ambrose after his mother died and that he was sent away for a few months, and before his dad died that same day, he looked for you. He knocked at our door. Thank God you were away with your dad then. I told him to go away and he assured me that he would never go away from you, and that you would become his wife one day too.”

“His… wife” you whispered, your heart aching.

Bo was indeed often speaking about marrying you and sharing you with his brothers, but you always thought there were only words; the Sinclairs never really planned out their future. Bo was too obsessed with cars and getting free from his family to care about anything else. Vincent was too focused on his art. Lester was just a lost kid wandering into the woods late at night. You hadn’t thought they were actually seeing you as their future. You always appeased Bo, you always brought Vincent back to reality, you always helped Lester feel like he was part of something.

“To be honest” your mom resumed and your attention went back on her “with the amount of time you were spending with him and his brothers, I was really worried you would agree on doing something that stupid. And even though you left Ambrose heartbroken and sobbing, I’m happy something happened between you, him and his twin, that day. I don’t know what it is, but I knew it convinced you to leave.” she continued and you didn’t answer. The memory of that day was still burning you to the core.

You had been so happy so see Bo and later on, Vincent. You had run into their arms and they had hugged you with fierce love. You were all planning on getting Lester back too.

And then, Bo killed his dad and Vincent told you he was going to continue the House of Wax, the way his mother always did. You knew about the murders, you knew people were beneath the wax, but you never said anything because you loved the boys. And despite how an awful mother Trudy was, she liked you. You were a girl, and she could finally chat around with what looked like a daughter to her. Victor was also a little more careful around you. You were loved by the Sinclairs, and they couldn’t explain it; it just happened.

But their love was dark and violent, and you couldn’t agree to live like that; you couldn’t stay in Ambrose when everything was dying around and you couldn’t live from murders. You promised yourself to never betray your boys, but at the same time, you left with your parents without a goodbye. You knew that if you decided to go see the twins one last time, they would convince you to stay and it couldn’t happen. You never recovered from the fact you didn’t see Lester again before leaving and you hoped Bo had been able to bring him back home. You were certain he did though, because his people were the only thing that mattered to him.

You were about to leave the kitchen when your mother called your name and you turned around, with a raised eyebrow, silently asking her what she wanted.

“Do me a favour and stay away from Ambrose during your little road trip, okay?” she said with a hint of concern in her voice

“You said yourself that there is nothing there anymore anyways” you replied, a little bit surprised by your mother’s attitude

“I know but… I don’t want you to tempt the devil” she replied and you only found yourself nodding.

You wondered if by the devil she meant Bo.

Bo knelt in front of a woman he just killed. She was the last one of the group and he was glad about it because he felt quite tired now. It was too hot today to play hide and seek with assholes. At least, the night was already casting its shadows around Ambrose and bringing with it a little bit of fresh air. Bo looked down at the woman, tilting his head to the side as he watched the pretty necklace she had around her neck. It was slightly covered in blood but he was pretty sure he could wash it without trouble. It looked expensive; he was certain the glitter coming from beneath the blood was a little diamond. He took it off her body without a care and pocketed it before Vincent could use this jewel on his next wax statue.

“Y/N would’ve liked it” Bo hummed to himself before sadly sighting. His throat tightened as always when he was saying your name out loud.

Whenever he was spotting something that reminded him of you, he was always grabbing it and putting it away, in a box filled with gifts for you. He never stopped hoping that one day he would be able to give you this box. You would realise how much you were loved then; but so far it only happened in his dreams. And yet, he was thinking about you everyday of his life and he still believed you would come back home one day. He was certain you were meant to be a Sinclair; even his parents were liking you so it had to mean something. He missed you so much, he missed your laugh and he missed the way you loved his brothers and himself. Ambrose was empty without you. Life had always been shit, but your absence was torture. He had thought that after a few years, the pain would subside, but it really didn’t. It often felt like it was actually growing up inside his chest. You left with a piece of themselves, you left with the only sun and happiness the boys truly felt. He knew his brothers were feeling the same, because everytime they were all eating together at night, the conversation always ended on what you became. And on why you never came back.

They could guess you were disapproving of the killing, but they couldn’t stand the idea that maybe you got scared of them. They couldn’t even say it out loud; you were the only thing they would never have hurt.

Bo sighted again as he grabbed the woman by her ankles and he started to pull her to the house. Vincent came upstairs when he heard a body being dragged on the floor and he helped his twin out. Vincent could tell by the look in Bo’s eyes that he was thinking about you. It was the only moment Bo was utterly silent too, lost in thoughts.

Vincent couldn’t blame him. He had hundreds of books filled with drawings of you. Whenever he thought that he would never hear your voice again, never feel your touch on his skin anymore, Vincent was drawing you. He was certain you existed that way, and he was certain he would never forget about what you looked like, even if he knew your figure and face were carved inside his chest and brain. You used to caress the bad side of his face and to remind him he was handsome, even in front of Trudy or Victor. You had never been afraid to show yourself with “the freak”. And his skin felt so dry and painful now your fingers hadn’t traced it in years.

The twins worked in utter silence and none of them felt hungry that night, so they went to bed earlier than usual. None of them slept actually, simply staring at the ceiling or at the wall, wondering where you were and if you were happy… without them. They wanted you to be happy as much as they wanted you to be miserable without them, because it was their only chance you would one day come back home.

Lester wasn’t better than the twins. And if Bo fucked with some girls, Lester just couldn’t even think about touching someone else than you. It felt wrong to him. He promised you he was yours and only yours after all. He had always enjoyed how a little bit possessive you were with the three of them. Lester wasn’t certain of a lot of things, but he knew he belonged to you. You had always loved them equally, giving them the love they were all craving so much.

You were always in Lester’s mind. He was always hoping to find you among a group of tourists, to be fair. He never stopped looking for you and hoping to see you again. You belonged to them too, so he couldn’t understand how you could live away from them. And he knew that if he ever found you again, he wouldn’t hesitate to lock you up somewhere if it meant keeping you by his side. Forever.

And he was certain that the twins were thinking the same. They lost you once, they wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

But for that… he needed to find you first.

And every morning and every night, he promised himself he would. Out of the three, he was the one who was the most certain he could get you back home, no matter if you wanted it or not. You were his little goddess, so he was certain that at some point you would come close to Ambrose again… and he would stumble upon you… and he would get you home. You would become the divinity of Ambrose once again, and everything would be alright.

One day, luck seemed to be on his side.

The closer you drove to Ambrose, the more you recognised the roads. Your mother’s words never stopped echoing inside your head and at some point, you turned the wheel so you wouldn't get too close to the place. A part of you wanted to drive right back to it; you even felt a little pang when you took the opposite path. You wanted to be back home more than anything, but you were too afraid of what would await you there. You even believed that the twins would be so mad at you, they would kill you and turn you into a wax statue so you couldn’t leave anymore without saying goodbye.

You found a little campsite and you all decided to spend the evening and night there. You forced yourself to focus on your people so you could forget about the Sinclairs. Another part of you was begging you to leave this place and to drive as far as possible away from Ambrose. You had no idea which parts of you were stronger.

You realised you didn’t have enough food for tonight so you and another girl took the car to find a shop nearby. It was late so a lot of them were close and you had to admit, you shivered in fear when your friend showed you the only store open 24/7 in the area. It was very close to Ambrose; little did you know that it was actually the town Lester was living in. You tried to not show anything as you drove to the store. You crossed your fingers to not run into any of the Sinclairs before you thought how stupid this was. The boys wouldn’t be there, and they might even be dead because of their way of life. And you were a lucky girl, something like that couldn’t happen to you.

Even if something inside of you was bubbling in excitement and hope.

As you entered the store, a man was leaving it. He moved to the side to let you come in and as you were about to thank him, your eyes met his and widened.

Lester.

You tried to move past him, hoping he wouldn’t have recognised you or that he would hate you enough to let you go easily. But you were a fool. He instantly grabbed your wrist as he whispered your name, bringing you back to him. He was in trance. He couldn’t believe the day finally came. Your friend frowned, wondering what was going on. She placed an arm around your shoulder to show you support

“Can you let go of her, buddy?” she calmly said and Lester instantly obeyed, not wanting to cause a scene. He put his hands in front of him in defence.

“Sorry. Hi, Y/N, ‘s been a long time” he hummed, looking for your eyes.

“Hi, Les. Sorry, but we’re a bit in a hurry here, we’ll chat another time, hmm?” you said, hoping to get out of this discussion as fast as possible. Goosebumps littered his skin at the sound of your voice calling him by his nickname.

You were surprised when Lester simply smiled and nodded. You noticed his grin didn’t reach his eyes though and you suppressed a shiver. You knew you were in trouble, especially with him letting you go so easily. Even more when he cheerfully said as you turned your back to him “See you soon, darl”

Lester settled in his truck and waited for you and your friend to get out of the store. He dialled his big brother’s number with a light in his eyes. It was the first time in so long he felt like he was finally alive. He was certain things were finally going to be good.

“‘S up, Les?” Bo hummed at the other side of the line, always answering his phone very fast whenever his brothers needed him

“She’s here.” Lester simply said because he was too happy and excited to say anything else.

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout, kid?” Bo asked, not wanting to get some false hope.

“Y/N. She’s at the store. She’s with a friend. Gonna follow them, I’ll send ya their location… And we’ll bring her home tonight”

It was a promise.

And a threat.

Taglist : @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21

PART II

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small-sinclair · 1 year

Text

I woke up with Poly!Sinclair rot dancing with s/o.

Enjoy.

not profread

Welcomed reader: @sketchy-rosewitch

Song mention: Devil's Backbone, The Civil Wars.

You’re in the House of Wax, dusting, and dancing by yourself to your noise canceling headphones. It’s been a long as time since this place has seen a good cleaning, and you just wanted your lovely Vincent’s art to shine because he’s just a good artist and he’s just so fucking beautiful at what he does.

Lester comes in with Bo, looking for a place to cool off. The Louisiana heatwave is beating them down, and the AC in the wax house is always on and cooling. You catch Bo’s eyes as you dance to a slow song in your headphones, not knowing they were there. Bo stop and watches you with amazement. He going into the fake kitchen and whistles for Vincent.

“Y/n’s dancin’, Vin. Com’ watch.” He holds a grin as Vincent comes up the steps.

Lester sits in a folding chair and watches you sway, his eyes looking over you as if he was in a trance.

‘Do you know how perfect you are, y/n?’ He wonders to himself, sighing contently. He rested his chin in his head, elbow learning on a knee, as he watches your hips and body, eyes all lovey dovey. ‘Goodness, you’re perfect.’

The twins stand behind their little brother as they watched you dance in the halo of sunlight and dust. You started humming to the song, then whisper the lyrics...

"Oh Lord, Oh Lord, I beggin' you, please. Don't take those Sinclairs from me."

Yeah, you changed the lyric from 'sinner' to 'Sinclairs', but it's true as you dance to the song, your eyes ghosting over the little figures.

Bo grits his teeth and took brave steps towards you, your back still turned to him. You just look too good to be true, and you looked too good not to be held. His rough hands wraps around your hips, and you yelp at the touch, jumping out of your skin. The wheel around and almost punched Bo in the jaw, but he dodged it, stepping back.

"Easy there, Rocky," he drawls, holding up his hands to show he was unarmed. "Just Bo. That's all."

You pull an earbud out and looked at him in disbelief. "The fuck, Bo! You scared me!" You held your chest. Your eyes looked over his shoulders, seeing Lester snickering in the chair and Vincent holding back a laugh. You relaxed and giggled. "Almost nicked ya."

Bo rolls his eyes and takes a step forward to you. Without saying a word, he places a hand around your lower back and held up your hand. "Dance wit' me, darlin'," he says slow, his southern drawl echoing in his chest.

You blush and let him take the lead. You slow danced to nothing, his eyes looked into your eyes, roaming over your body and arms. He doesn't need to say anything as he dances with you, keeping you close to his chest, but his hands were loose and snug. You two stay like this for a while, him swaying you in the sunlight. you rested your head on his chest and smell the oil and aftershave leather from this morning's shave still lingering. Once he got you facing away from his brothers, he smirks, nods, and spins you.

Your free hand caught rougher hands as you were pulled into Lester's arms. "Hiya, sweet pea," he said with his goofy smile. "Mind if I hav' 'is dance?"

You managed a nod as his hands wrap around your waist, arms around his neck. His curls were sticking up from under his hat from sweat and the heat. His puppy brown eyes swaying you as if you two were high school lovers, and that's okay. He didn't take control like Bo's lead, but it was more of a comfortable lead as he stole a kiss from your lips.

"Ya lookin' like a dream," he whispers, kissing you again, nice and slow. "Really likin' ya, y/n. Make everythin' good n' betta." His voice stays soft as if he's afraid to scare you. "Yer' beautiful." His eyes shifted up and he smiles. "Looks lik' Vincey wants a turn, sug."

As soon as he says that, Vincent stood next to you and him, his wax face emotionless. Lester steps back and kisses your hand, letting you go to his older brother. He leaves the little dance floor as Vincent held up your hand and tuck his hand behind your lower back just as Bo did.

He takes lead, the dance feeling more like a waltz that you've seen in a movie, but he didn't let you trip or fall. Your eyes stayed up to watch Vincent, feeling his lone blue eye on you and a smile creeping over his lips. He's imagined dancing with you hundred of times, and to be doing it now felt amazing. Your figure in his arms as he danced with you, holding you close and careful like you were glass... you're just too good for him. For his brothers. For this dead town.

His warmth was comfortable as he lifts your face, waxed lips kissing the crown of your head. He spins you, and your hand is caught by Bo's, taking you back were you started. He steals a kiss then spins you again, Lester catching you in his arms, kissing your cheek, and passes you back to Vincent without his mask, his real lips kisses yours, then spins you again, leaving no one to catch you. All three of the brothers stood next to each other, looking at you in the sunlight's dress and dusty crown floating in your hair. They smile at you, Bo and lester taking off their hats, the bowed to you. You blush and return the guester, bowing your head towards them and lifting up to meet with their gaze, their eyes roaming over you as if you were a marble statue in a rose garden.

"Y'all make one heck of a dance partner," Lester drawled, giggling to himself, putting his hat back on.

Bo's blue eyes light up as you watched your smile. "Might as well marry ya, darlin'."

Vincent's hands move, signing, 'You're a good dancer, muse.'

You blushed as you take up your duster, the AC sending chills over your arms. "Thank you, boys. I... I never danced with someone before."

Bo shook his head at those words. "We'll always dance wit' ya, y/n," he flashes you his charming smile, "I promise ya that."

Lester nods in agreement, his brown eyes lighting up. Vincent placed his mask over his face, his hands then taking yours, pulling you into his chest. You lay your head against his shirt and sways gently again.

What a dance you'll be having. Taking each step at a time with a lion, a wolf, and a coyote. Gentle steps, humming bird. Gentle steps.

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g0thl3zz · 2 years

Text

Slashers asking their S/O to sing for them

Various! Slashers x GN Reader (fluff hcs + Drabbles)

2.7k words, 14.7k characters

A//N: Not really proofread but I wrote this over the span of like 3 months bc I'm lazy. Okay? Okay. Enjoy c:

INCLUDES: Peepaw Michael, RZ! Michael, Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, All three Sinclair brothers, Poly! Ghostface, Billy Lenz, & Brahms Heelshire!

Peepaw Myers

Doesn't really care

Kinda just silently waits for you to notice him and stop

He'll listen, but won't pester you to sing for him like Bubba or Brahms would

Michael was out- so you had decided to get some chores around the house knocked out when he was doing, well… whatever it was he did when he went out. You had already done the kitchen, so you had moved onto the laundry, starting with Michael's, first. You tried not to get overwhelmed by the smell of dried up blood on his clothes and had set your mind on singing a simple tune while you loaded up the washer, one you had heard from t.v a while ago that had lingered in your head since. You slammed the washer shut after putting in detergent and as much bleach as was safe before turning to the door, jumping a bit when you see Michael there, covered with blood splatters. "Oh gosh, go! Go change out of that, quickly. So I can throw it in the washer too." You state. He stares at you, just standing there looking at you. You would have thought him a statue if not for his chest moving with his every breath. You sigh. "C'mon Michael, I'll change you this time." You say, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the bathroom. From then on, you would catch him peeking into the laundry room whenever you would put a load in to wash, secretly hoping to catch you singing, even humming. Though, he would never outright ask you to sing for him, he appreciates it when you do.

RZ Michael Myers

Absolutely LOVES it when you sing

He loves your voice, if he walks in on you singing, he'll walk over and hug you gently from behind, rocking with you and happily humming along.

He expects you to sing for him when you guys lay down to sleep

He WILL fall asleep like a baby if you sing to him

You were taking a shower while Michael was out of the house. You had left the door open since you were the only one home, and you allowed yourself to sing as loud as you wished. As you dried your hair off, you nearly jumped into the ceiling when you felt a pair of big arms wrap around you- still in your birthday suit. "Jesus, Mike. Back already? What happened?" You said with a sigh, pulling away to get dressed. Or, attempting to pull away. "Baby, let me get dressed then we can talk about it, okay?" You say, tugging at his arms. He shakes his head, briefly giving a quiet hum while staring at you. A grin takes over your face as you turn around in his arms. "You want me to sing?" He nods. "Alright, then." You told him before starting off with a soft love song, and Michael began swaying side to side, you still in his arms. You let yourself relax into his hold as you sang to him, hoping he would do this to you more often.

Bubba Sawyer

Also loves when you sing.

In the shower together? Better sing to him. Going to sleep? Better sing for him. In the kitchen? Better bust out a tune.

Will drag you to the farm to sing for the chickens.

Loves when you sing sitting on the couch. He'll lay his head in your lap and let you play with his hair. This drives him absolutely crazy.

You had woken up earlier than usual, and had managed to escape Bubba's iron grip in bed to go to the kitchen and cook something for breakfast. You sung to yourself, since it was just you and the sleeping man in the house at the moment. As you stirred eggs, you sung "Wise men say," You sway from side to side with a gentle smile "only fools rush in." You feel arms wrapping around you, swaying with you. As you stirred the eggs, you reached a hand up behind you to cup his cheek, your smile growing ever-wider. "But I can't help, falling in love," You slow the song down considerably, putting down your spatula to turn around and wrap your arm around Bubba's neck. "With" You sung as the two of you swayed in a romantic dance. "You~" you finish, snuggling your face into his big 'ol chest. You hear him make the cutest little happy noises and look up. "I'll sing for you more often, my love. Now, I'm sure the eggs are done. Go get some plates." From then on, you kept your promise. When you washed his hair in the bath, singing a song for him. Whilst cooking or helping with chores, he urged you to sing. In front of his family? He wanted to show you off like his prized possession- which you indeed were.

Thomas Hewitt

Would happily sit in the room sewing masks while you sing.

His ideal evening? Sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, you on his lap while you sing to him.

He would have you sit at the table singing while him and Luda Mae cool instead of turning on the radio

You walked back into the house, sweating from simply walking down the road to pick some wildflowers for the house. Typical Texas heat- that you still had yet to become so used to. At least it was cooler in the house, air conditioner or not. As you wiped the sweat from your face with your shirt, you noticed the sweet sounds of food being cooked- along with the accompaniment of a lady crooning an old tune from the staticky radio Luda Mae kept. A smile had begun to dawn on your face as you began humming along, slowly turning into you singing along to the music the closer you got to the kitchen. You stood in the doorway, singing and watching as Thomas looked up from the cutting board, a smile being evident from behind his mask through his eyes. You walked over, giving him a side hug as you kept singing. You were glad for the little moments like this.

Bo Sinclair

Would pretend like he doesn't care

But would urge you to keep singing

"No, no, don't mind me." As he walks past you to get something as slowly as possible

Would begin stealing cds from the cars of victims to give you a wider variety of music

"These? Oh , nahh. Just wanted to… start a collection. Always good to have a broad taste, eh?"

Bo was down at the garage- so you had decided to use this opportunity to clean the house. It was… messy, to say the least. You couldn't begin to guess when the place was last cleaned. You managed to dig up a cd player and a stack of cds early on into cleaning, so you set that up so you could jam out as you began sorting stuff from trash and placing clothes into hampers. You were happy some of the cds you found belonged to familiar artists,so you sang along as you cleaned, not hearing the door open or the thud of his boots walking up the living room, which you were currently cleaning. Behind you, he turned off the stereo and asked. "What are you doing?" "OH! Oh gosh you scared me, what are you doing back so early?" You asked, turning around to him after your small shock. "Came back to get something. You sing?" He asked, nudging one of the piles you had made with his boot. "Aht! Don't do that! I spent so long just to get this this point. Gosh, just decided to clean up. Clean house equals a clean mind, right?" He nodded with a "hmm. Well, don't mind me. I'll be in and out." He said with a nod, pressing play on the stereo before thumping upstairs to the room. You watch him leave before turning back around and placing more trash in the bag. After a few minutes, you turn to skip the song and see Bo standing there, watching you from the base of the stairs. You pause it, once again and call out. "Changed your mind about going back?" "Nah, why ain't ya singing?" "Oh- uhm, I was just gonna skip this song. Why, you like my singing~?" He pinkens a bit and turns to the door, opening it up and telling you "Psssh, nah. I just hoped I didn't ruin your mood. Well, I'm off now." And with that, he leaves. You shake your head as a smile finds its way onto your face. He was clearly lying, but you were glad he was happy.

Vincent Sinclair

Would watch you sing

Wouldn't bother you, just sitting there nicely

Would ask you to come down to the museum to sing for him while he works on sculptures.

Would start making you little sculptures based off the songs you sing

Would dig around in the attic for sheet music for you to sing- even though it's meant for the piano.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt the taps on your shoulder. You turned off the potter's wheel and turned back to see Vincent standing there, holding a stack of paper to his chest with one hand and signing with the other. 'I found these' Since your hands were caked with clay, you opted to speak. "Okay… what is it?" 'Music' "Oh gosh," You started. "Again? Vincent, I can't sing piano music-there aren't even any lyrics!" You exclaimed. The masked man deflated a big, still staring at you. The silence stretched on for a minute before you sighed. "Fine, fine! Let me wash off first then I'll take a look at it." You stood to your feet. Vincent followed close behind you, anticipating hearing your voice once again. You went to the sink in the basement and washed your hands off and wiped them on your pants. "Let's go upstairs- too hot in here." You say and take the sheets from his hands. You read the music as you two walk up the stairs, nodding and quietly humming the notes to yourself. Once you're back on the ground level, your plop yourself on the couch and look over at him. "Since there aren't any lyrics, I can only hum it." You tell him. 'That's fine, I just wanna hear you…' He signs, and you could feel your heart melt. 'I love you' You sign, then begin the song. It was low and quiet at first, then began swelling with a crescendo all the way to forte and stayed mostly on the lower side of the octave. You finished quickly, a short but sweet piece. By the end, Vincent had laid his head down in your lap, and by the way his chest rose and his eye was closed, you could tell he had fallen asleep. "I've been played," You whisper.

Lester Sinclair

"Oh gee, sweetpea. You have the voice of an angel!"

Would get a goofy grin when you would sing for him, looking at you so happily

Would take you and Jonesy with him to go clean up the roadkill, insisting you sing instead of playing the radio.

"No, no! I insist, y'all come. Just sing summn real purtty like ya' do n we'll have a ball!" He spoke. "...Really Lester?" You questioned the man. "Yes! I'm as serious as a dead man!" He exclaims. You couldn't help but break into a smile, rolling your eyes playfully and standing from where you had been sitting. "... Fiiiine, I guess! Just because you asked so nicely… andforjonesy” You finally complied with him, adding the last part in a quick whisper. “What’d ya say?” “NOTHIIING!! I’ll be in the car for when you’re ready to go!” You say, skipping out as the black and white pitbull trots next to you. You get to his truck and toss the passenger door open, letting Jonesy hop inside before getting in and closing the door behind yourself. Lester soon follows, turning the car, though it takes a few tries for it to rumble to life. When it finally does, he opens the glove compartment and begins the drive. "All 'O ma CDs in there, put on whatever ya' like." He hums, glancing over at you before petting Jonesy and continuing the drive. You do as he says- rifling through his CD collection before pulling out a Frank Sinatra CD. "Sinatra, really?" You ask him. "Well- yea. Found it in a broke down car." "Mhhhm, sure." You laugh and insert it into the player. You begin quietly. "L, is for the way you look," You poke his jaw playfully. "At me~" You can see him glancing over at you before looking back at the dirt road, a smile blossoming onto his face. "O is for the only one, I see. V is very very" You pet Jonesy. "Extraordinary. E is even more than anyone that you adore can!" You finish and can't help but admire Lester's grin. "Oh gosh, baby. You're the best." He says quietly, thinking about how lucky and happy he is. You wished you could etch this moment in stone, and keep it alive forever.

Poly! Ghostface (Billy+Stu)

Billy would tell you to shut tf up (doesn’t really mean it)

Stu would ignore him and encourage you to sing more for them

(stu) Would record you singing in the shower & show you later

Stu would set up karaoke night

Billy would hate it

“I’m not fucking doing karaoke. It’s stupid.” (ends up doing it anyways)

Billy would sing the tequila song

“No- no- look! Karaoke is a great idea. Bill. (y/n) already said yes. Don’t be such a party pooper.” “Yeah, Bill~. Don’t be such a party pooper!” You chime in. You could practically hear his eyes roll to the back of his head. “….Fine.'' After a long pause. You and Stu rejoiced, the blonde man pulling you both into a bear hug. "We're gonna have so much fun man!". Skip three hours later. Stu had ran to the store, got a karaoke machine and every snack you could think of- soda, chips, popcorn, lofthouse cookies (WHICH ARE GREAT AND I WILL FIGHT YOU ON THAT), and candy. You and Billy had surfed through all of your combined CD and cassette collection for songs you wanted to sing- or simply vibe too. Once Stu had come back, the two insisted you sing first. "No, god why me! Why can't you go, Stu?" "heyyy, man. Majority rules, and Me 'n Bills wanna hear your sweet sweeeet voice." You groaned, h=face growing warmer at the statement, but nonetheless you went first, you had a song picked out and began singing, closing your eyes as you began to sway and feel the beat. By the time the song had ended, Stu was all over you, hands underneath your shirt and swaying with you. Billy was sitting back and watching from the couch with a smirk. "Looks like the show's just getting started~" He crooned.

Billy Lenz

Would call and ask you to sing for him

Would be happy and start crying when you end up going to the attic to sing to him in person.

"Pretty piggie singing for Billy! Oh piggie is so pretty!"

Yea that's all I got

Ily tho Billy my beloved

Brriiiing. The phone rung, filling your house with the annoying pitch. "I'm coming!" Calling out to the house, knowing you were alone besides for him. You pick up the receiver and hold it up to your ear answering with a "Hello?" "Piggie! Pretty piggie!" You hear a feral-sounding voice from the other end. "Lala! La la la la la~" You hear the voice say. "Billy, I'm going up there-" "Pig-!" You put the receiver back up and make your way to the basement, climbing up the ladder and entering, seeing brown eyes peeking at you from behind a box. "Billy, if you want me to sing for you, just ask. You don't have to stay in the attic y'know?" You pull yourself up and walk over to the man, sitting beside him on the dusty floor. His big eyes well up with tears. "Oh- piggy. Billy loves the pretty piggy." "I love you too Billy." You say, pulling him into a hug before taking him downstairs with you. You put a CD into the stereo and jamming out to "Mariah Carey' Christmas hits" While finishing up the dishes, Billy sitting on the counter next to you and kicking his feet happily.

Brahms Heelshire

Would try and make you sing opera

"It's in Italian"

"But it's my favorite!"

Begging you on his KNEES

"Look- Brahmsy. You know I can't speak French. How do you expect me to sing this?" "B-but! It has everything you just have to read and sing!" You look at him with warning in your eye. "Brahms." You say firmly. He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Well- I'm not going to bed until you do!" He says, throwing the blankets off of him and sits on the bed with his back facing you. "Ugh, Brahms. I can sing you anything else." You say and reach out to put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs your hand off with a "Hmph!" "Really? You're gonna do this to me?" You say, no response. Silent treatment. "Okay- okay. Fine, just give me a few minutes." You tell him. You pick up the sheet music, skimming through the notes and rests before your eyes fall below the staffs to the lyrics. It didn't look too bad, you wouldn't be able to sing it perfectly but at least ya'd be able to sing it somewhat decently. "Do you have it on record, so I can sing to the music, at least?" You ask. Silently, your companion rises from his seat and takes a vinyl out from the cover, placing it on the record player and setting the needle on the record. A wonderful duet of viola and cello croon from the speaker and fill the air. You keep up with the sheet music and begin at your cue, singing softly instead of the opera style it's meant to be performed in. "L'amour est un oiseau rebelle, Que nul ne peut apprivoiser." After only five measures, you feel Brahms come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and buries his bare face in the crook of your neck, swaying to the beat. You stop, looking behind you and seeing his porcelain mask on the bed. A smile invades your face as you bring your hands up to hold his. "I love… you," He whispers softly. You stay like that until the record ends.

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