#sinclair brainrot hours | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mickeyswhore · 6 months

Text

Runaway

Request: hello! ive been having MAJOR house of wax/vincent brainrot....im wondering if you can do a vincent sinclair small fic? or something like that, im not used to fic terms,,,,,, it can be anything you want to write abt :3

A/N: Vincent Sinclair is so pookie, having brainrot about him is so valid and I totally get you, I hope you like it, let me know. 🫶

Summary: After suffering a mental breakdown, you decide to go on a road trip. You stumble upon a small town called Ambrose, and things escalate from there.

Vincent Sinclair x Reader

Warnings: just your run of the mill murder mentions, nothing much and dark undertones, this was low key fluffly.

GIF by @coppoladelrey

After you had a mental breakdown for being too overworked, you decided to go on a road trip so you can relax and just see new places. You avoided the highways because driving on those was extremely depressing so you were in country roads, now you were in Louisiana. It was hot and you were so thankful for your A/C being so powerful.

You decided to stop in a small town that you stumbled upon, it was around 1:00 PM and it was time to get more snacks and water, you parked your car in front of the small shop and you left the car. When you tried to enter the shop, it was locked. You found it odd since it was 24 hours, but you decided to wait to open again, you were in no rush so you decided to wait in your car.

Losing track of time playing games on your phone, you heard someone knocking at your window, you yelled and put your hand on your chest. You looked and you saw a man in a suit, you smiled tightly at him and left the car to be able to talk to him.

“You alright, sugar?” Bo thought it was extremely odd that not even Lester was able to see where you were coming from.

“Yeah, just passing by. I needed to buy some snacks for the journey, but it seems to be closed.” You pointed at the shop and Bo smiled at you.

“I think the owner had to leave for a few hours, you’re than welcomed to wait. But you shouldn’t in the car, come on I’ll walk you around the city, we have a wax museum that’s really cool. I’m Bo, by the way.” He raised his hand for you to shake and you did, you also introduced yourself.

The two of you walked towards the museum, and Bo kept asking questions such as why you were travelling, where you were heading and why you were by yourself. You didn't like the fact that he was almost interrogating you but you tried to keep your answers to a minimum. You weren’t to divulge the state of your mental health for this trip to be possible, you didn't resent Bo, you simply blamed it on southern hospitality so you remained pleasant and polite.

“Here we are, I have the keys to it so I can show you around.” Bo opened the door and allowed you to enter before him and he started telling the story about the museum. “Trudy was the woman that started it all, she had great talent we try to keep her legacy alive.” You looked at the the wax figures and they’re amazing, you’ve never seen anything like this before.

“It’s beautiful, who’s the current artist?” You asked whilst still looking at the statues, it was like nothing you’ve ever seen in your life before.

“His name is Vincent.” Bo informed you, he was watching you admiring Vincent’s work with genuine wonder and that made him smile.

“I’d love to meet him.” That was the only outcome for you, meeting the genius behind these sculptures, you felt a connection with him even though you have no idea who he is.

“He’s, well how do you say it? A recluse?” Bo explained to you and the way you deflated made his heart clench, why was he so affected by your sadness? He already looked at you with this sense of protection, he didn't want to kill you, it was strange.

“That’s a pity, it would be great to meet him.” You looked so sad, and Bo couldn’t have that. Vincent would kill him but if it was a bad idea Vincent was going to kill you anyway.

“Well, he lives down here. You can try to talk to him, can’t make any promises though.” Bo showed you the way and so you did, it was dark and you could tell that candles were lit.

Vincent was freaking out, why would Bo do this? Vincent didn't want to kill you at all, and you seemed very interested in his art. Ever since you and Bo entered the museum, Vincent was admiring you and he wanted to make you his muse.

“Hello? Vincent? I was looking at your art and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’d love to meet you if you want.” The hope in your voice was the most amazing thing for Vincent, you were so respectful and you loved his art Vincent’s heart was skipping a beat, he wanted to get to know you but you would scream and run away as soon as you saw him. “I hope you can hear me, your art is amazing.” Vincent took a deep breath and showed in your field of vision and he couldn’t even look up to your face of disgust.

“Hi! I’m so glad to meet you, Bo said that you were more of an introvert so it’s an honour.” You got close to him and raised your hand to shake Vincent’s, he reluctantly raised his and looked at you and you had the biggest smile Vincent has ever seen. He didn't say anything and you assumed that he was a man of few words. “Well, I think that I should leave you be. You’re probably very busy and I didn't mean to intrude, so I should get going.” Vincent started panicking, he didn't want you to leave.

Vincent grabbed your arm and guided you to one of his almost finished figure, you were admiring Vincent’s work and he was admiring you, your eyes, your cheeks, your complexion. He didn't want you to leave, and he didn't want you to die, he needed you.

“That’s amazing, Vincent. Thank you for showing me this.” You put your hand in his arm and smiled at him warmly, you couldn’t deny that his shy nature drew you in. You wanted to learn more about him, maybe you could stay a bit longer in this town. Vincent nodded and in a bold move, he put his hand on top of yours. “I hope that you can say yes, but totally alright if you don’t…would you like to go out for a cup of coffee with me?” You internally cringed with how awkward you were but Vincent couldn’t help but love it. He nodded and he was glad he did, because he was able to see the biggest smile he has ever seen.

“Great, well I better find a hotel. Do you know any?” Vincent nodded his head, he would need Bo’s help to keep you here. He doesn’t want you to leave.

You’re his, his muse, forever.

Bo already got your car broken when he didn't hear any screams he realised that Vincent didn't want you to leave, at all. Meanwhile, you and Vincent were spending this time contemplating art and talking about it, you were so excited where this was taking you, and Vincent already knew that you weren’t leaving at all.

#vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x y/n #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax 2005 #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader

190 notes · View notes

subtle-edge-of-rot · 2 years

Note

BESTIE HOW DID I MISS POLY SINCLAIR HOURS YESTERDAY???

Been absolutely fiending for more brotherly love lately if my constant Bo brainrot didn't make that obvious. So here's a couple snacks. Yes yes you never sleep alone. Here's how they wake you up.

Lester tries, he really tries, not to wake you. He gets up stupid early for work and doesn't want to disturb you because he knows you need your rest and well, you just look so relaxed and comfortable. But when you sleep with Les you become an absolute tangle of limbs and it's impossible to extricate himself without disturbing you. So when you blink sleepily and look up at him, he kisses your forehead and tucks the blanket around you and whispers, "Sorry, sweet pea, keep sleepin'." If you're still out when he leaves he comes back in for one more sleepy kiss. Sometimes he does this a bunch of times because he keeps forgetting things and has to come back in and he HAS to kiss you goodbye for his very last thing so probably by the third time you're actually awake for real lol.

Vincent moves like a specter so you never notice him leaving the bed. He will bring you coffee or juice, whatever he's also getting for himself, set it beside your bed for when you wake. He won't actually wake you up unless he has to, and if he has to, he will start with gentle caresses on your cheeks, kisses on your neck, stroking your shoulders and back. It coaxes you back into consciousness slowly and tenderly and you wake up like a Disney princess. Being woken up by Vincent is the softest, most sensual way to rejoin the living you've ever experienced.

Bo wakes you up by trying to extend the amount of time you both spend tucked in bed. When his alarm goes off he turns it off and then latches on to you. If your alarm goes off he will stop it for you and bury his face in your chest. If you try to tell him it's time to get up he will say, "Then what're you still doin' in bed" and absolutely not let you up. Will go so far as to lay his full weight on you to keep you from leaving. And then of course will complain about the morning being half over already lol.

It goes without saying that these men are each greedy for you in the worst way and if they wake up with a hunger things go very differently. 👀🥵😩 But oops I'm out of time!

I think everyone missed it yesterday tbh I didn’t get a lot of traction on the idea, but it’s taking off now which is awesome—I could talk about this all day, I’m down bad for a poly Sinclair experience.

Your Bo brain rot has been my obsession lately. Please tell me there’s gonna be more parts to your dilf Bo story because I am obsessed with the version of him that you’ve created and I want to know the entire story lol, I read and re-read your fics! I’m also so excited to see what you have to say about literally sleeping with each of the brothers.

You’re dead on about Les! He’s a cuddle bug and when you sleep with him, you’re going to be all tangled up with him, no ifs ands or buts about it. You’ll be one tangled knot of limbs by the time he’s getting up for work. He really does try not to bother you but with the way you’re intertwined he can’t help making you stir. He’s also kinda loud when it comes to getting ready, pacing through the room, digging through his belongings, turning on the light when he can’t find his keys. It’s probable that you’ll be fully awake by the time he gives you that final goodbye kiss, handing him his thermos of morning coffee before you’re climbing back into bed with a big yawn. You’ll get a few more hours of sleep after he heads out, but it’s likely one or both of the twins will come and lay down with you. They’re all so needy for you.

Vincent is a light sleeper, and he doesn’t sleep for long—his sleeping schedule is fucked. That being said though, he’s considerate and very, very quiet when he slips out of bed to go make some tea for the two of you. He lets you sleep for as long as possible, only waking you when it’s absolutely time to get up and get the day started. You’re right though, he’s the best one to wake you up, as he’s gentle and makes sure you come to in a way that isn’t jarring or annoying. It’s likely he’ll have some food for you as well. He’s thoughtful.

Bo isn’t a morning person, so he’ll try and linger in bed with you for as long as possible, going as far as to lay on top of you when you try to get a move on so you can start your morning chores around Ambrose. He’s grumpy and clingy and desperate to stay warm and cozy with you, even though he’ll be grumbling that the entire morning was wasted away.

#payton’s asks #the sinclair brothers #the poly sinclair experience #visceralvalentines #boogeyman besties

43 notes · View notes

prinxejeanne · 2 years

Note

(stumbles in) Author X google please, whatever genre you want also your anon isn't on bestie -Sinclair

Fluffy brainrot time hehehe-

[[A fluffy Author x Google IRL drabble, using the name "Sinclair" for the Author and the name "Alpha" for Google (because the person who requested this is a bestie of mine >:]), where the two are already in an established relationship.]]

[[Warnings: very brief description of paranoia at the beginning, this fic was written right after a customer called me pretty so it's gonna be fluffy as HELL, robo-cuddles, etc.]]

Sinclair's body was strewn lazily on top of Alpha's, his arms wrapped tightly around the androids waist as he laid his head on their chest.

He gently chewed on the edge of his fingernail, listening to his loving partner conclude his reading of The Tell-Tale Heart, by Edgar Allen Poe.

"...'Villains!' I shrieked, 'disassemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the planks! – here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!'"

As the poem was finished, a satisfied hum bubbled up from Alpha's chest.

"How was that, my love?" he asked gently, turning his attention to Sinclair and carefully brushing a hand over the man's gelled hair.

"It was great, but...why do you always read Poe? Not that I mind, but it kinda feels like you only read his works," he asked, a lighthearted grin playing on his lips.

"Ah- well, I could read some others," he responded with a chuckle, "but I've already downloaded all of Poe's work. I was under the impression that you enjoyed it, muse."

The author snorted slightly, reaching up to plant a few kisses along Alpha's jaw.

"You're such a sweetheart," he murmured, before burying his face into the android's shoulder and humming. "I love Poe's work, but I also like Sappho, Angelou, Wilde... if you want, you can mix it up a little."

"Oh, thank you," Alpha responded with a laugh, kissing the top of Sinclair's head. "I honestly don't enjoy Poe very much. I was just reading his work because I thought you did."

The author burst out laughing at this, causing a slight grin to tug at Alpha's lips. God, they loved listening to Sinclair's laugh.

As Sinclair lifted himself up slightly to look Alpha in the eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat as he saw the look on his face.

He just looked so... affectionate. It scared him to think about it. About why someone as perfect as Alpha would love someone as flawed as himself.

"Sinclair, are you alright?"

The question snapped Sinclair out of his thoughts, and he noted that the affection in Alpha's eyes had shifted slightly to one of concern.

"Yeah, I just... got caught up in my own thoughts," he admitted quietly, starting to move off of Alpha. "I should probably let you get going."

The android stopped him by gently resting a hand on Sinclair's cheek, and they gave him a gentle smile. "I have nowhere else to be for a long time, Sinclair. If you'd like, we can find some different poems to read."

A sheepish grin spreads across Sinclair's face, and he adjusts slightly so that he's snuggling up against Alpha again.

"Sounds perfect to me," he murmurs, burying his face into the android's shirt once again. "How about some Wilde?"

Alpha hums softly, wrapping his arms around Sinclair and holding him gently.

"That sounds perfect, my love. But I can only stay for a few more hours, alright?"

"Yeah, okay- then you can go do important stuff or something."

When Sinclair had opened his eyes, it was two in the morning, and he was sleeping on top of his beloved Alpha. So much for "a few more hours".

#this was shorter than i planned but i still like it sjsjsj #google irl #googleplier #markiplier the author #the author #the author x google irl #google x author #author x google #markiplier egos #markiplier fanfiction

9 notes · View notes

hiraethhh-h · 2 years

Text

i'm currently having slasher brainrot hours so feel free to fill my inbox with:

michael myers

jason voorhees

thomas hewitt/bubba sawyer

vincent sinclair

ghostface (dbd ver or billy & stu)

brahms heelshire

#bee's rambles #bee sleeps #slasher fandom #slasher community #slashers #michael myers #jason voorhees #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer #vincent sinclair #ghostface #danny jed olsen johnson #stu macher #billy loomis #brahms the boy #the boy 2016 #the boy #brahms heelshire

19 notes · View notes

stumacher-theghostface · 2 years

Note

alrightyyyy

I shall restrain myself and just say these/ome of them for Lester? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

“pull the car over.” and “say my name again.”

or one of the twins

the Sinclair brainrot is strong and constant

Car ride

👀bo brain rot is strong in me. It's a bit short.

Warning:nsfw,fem reader,daddy kink,spanking,whatever i put in,bo sinclair being hot

You'd been driving for little over an hour and had argued that you weren't lost but eventually you had to admit defeat as you sigh out " okay maybe we are lost" which got you a smug look from one bo Sinclair as he chuckled out "alrighty then. Pull the car over" so you listened only to be stunned when bo pulled you over over his knee and started to swat your ass hard as you yelp in shock at the sting before you gasped out "daddy please!" Only to hear a groan from bo as he grabbed your hair growling "that's it baby. Say my name again" encouraging you to moan out 'daddy' repeatedly for him as you found yourself ruining your panties. You dreaded bo finding out knowing that it'd take longer to get home-

#not sfw #bo sinclair

3 notes · View notes

mmthatsano · 2 years

Text

ST4 came out, gave me brainrot, and then I produced literally NINE fics for an AU I made up within an hour at 3 AM. I hope you guys enjoy!

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationships: Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington & The Party, Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington

Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Will Byers, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers D'Artagnan "Dart"(Stranger Things), Demogorgon (Stranger Things), Demo-Dogs(Stranger Things)

Additional Tags: The Upside Down, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Finds Out About the Upside Down, Gay Billy Hargrove, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Pet Names Billy Hargrove Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names Stranger Things 2, Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Canon-Typical Violence, Mild Blood, Injury, Head Injury, someone help steve, He's a struggling Single Mother, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Underage Smoking, Flirting but not really?, Idk how do you describe flirting when it's all conveyed through stares, Homosexual staring, WHY IS THAT NOT A TAG??, That's definitely a thing, Ao3 I'm disappointed in you for that one, These tags always get out of hand, Tags are the reason I always put off publishing my stuff :'), No beta we die like bob, Should've tagged this earlier but, Pre-Relationship

The plan didn't quite go the way they thought it would and Steve and kids are told to get out of Hawkins for a few days while Hopper and El hide away to recover and try to close the gate again the next day, when El has more energy.

Only, Billy Hargrove had stumbled back into the Byers' house just before Hopper messaged them, after coming into contact with the demodogs in the woods and understandably retreating back to the only house around for miles in a panic.

That was an oops. But hey, Steve and Billy managed to settle whatever their problem was thanks to the forced interaction of running away together with four children in a car. Or, more like they didn't talk about it but subtly apologized in their own ways and that was that. Whatever works, right?

#stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #gay #Billy is not racist #or homophobic #that man is gay as hell #and steve is a bi princess #and also has hidden violent tendencies #its true #joe keery told me himself #i dont make the rules #st2 #au #The Prettiest Boys in Hawkins #or #TPBiH for short

1 note · View note

sunkendreams · 2 years

Note

Hi! Love your stuff and I've been binging it a lottt!! Saw that requests were open so I wanted to send one.

I've been having a brainrot over Eddie Gluskin meeting a virgin!reader that has always wanted to be a wife (and a mother 😳).

┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — one-shot.

┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — eddie gluskin x afab!reader.

┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — SMUT/18+! abduction, dubious consent, virgin!reader, eddie is his own warning lmao, descriptions of gore, breeding kink, choking, dirty talk, slight degradation, vaginal sex/rough sex, biting. not a nice character.

┊ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 5,020.

┊ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — thank you so much for your request & I apologize that I took awhile! I actually went back and played some of whistleblower for this lmao ,, I remember when I was obsessed with this character (you have reinvigorated the outlast spark, anon !!! ❣️) if you aren’t familiar with outlast (taglist) that’s totally fine! I hope y’all enjoy! ❤️

┊ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — @peachygothgirl ; @mrs-heelshire ; @slasherfantasy ; @loraxlola ; @the-wordis-bird ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @dootys ; @mehidktbh ; @darklylucid ; @lttlegore ; @the-anxious-youth ; @callmemeelah ; @comicalrage ; @horrorstories123 ; @krakersy ; @bloodwithpeachmilk ; @suguruswife

“Did I frighten you? I’m awfully sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to.”

Pinned between a table and the splintered, dilapidated hardwood, you were biting into your palm to keep from making any noise. Perspiration built up upon your back, sending cold shivers up your spine as echoed footfalls began to stalk closer and closer, weaving their way through the numerous shelves and sewing units. You could hear your heart, hear your blood pumping, ringing within your ears.

Mount Massive Asylum had become your personal hell — your own dimension bent on tormenting you. You were only there for what seemed like less than an hour, desperately hoping to visit your brother, a patient at the facility, but the carnage began with you inside of the building.

You’d been beaten and thrown, chased and maimed, but you were far more resilient than you’d ever let on. Your brother was the only remaining family you had left, and you had a sick feeling that he might not have lived through whatever disturbed carnival this place had turned into. There was gore everywhere you turned, countless corpses, maniacs running everywhere.

If your brother was alive, you prayed that he wasn’t like them, that he hadn’t succumbed to whatever nightmares these people dreamed. You weren’t going to be allowed to see him whatsoever until you threatened to slam them with a lawsuit, but of course, something terrible always intercepted something good.

There was a stranger prowling around within this room, you were locked in with a murderer. One of the patients that had chased you down here called him Mr. Gluskin. To your complete bewilderment, he spoke with a clarity that many others in the facility lacked, a suave, debonair charm that almost coaxed you out from underneath the table, at first.

And then you saw the bloody knife and the corpses — the absolute strength of the man, dressed as if he’d come straight from a vintage bridal magazine, a groom complete with a bow tie and a patchwork vest. He was moving about the tables, humming to himself as if this were commonplace for him.

His appearance happened to remind you of your own engagement, called off a few weeks ago. You were keen on being a wife and finding your happy ending, so to speak, but after you found out about the vast amount of lies fed to you by your fiancé, you backed out. Even then, you were young — early twenties with plenty of time to try again.

It all hinged upon whether or not you would survive, of course. There was the mounting possibility that you would die here, and this would be your final resting place, some hellscape of an asylum crawling with horrors beyond your wildest imagination. Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, fighting back the onslaught of anguished tears.

As the bulky man crouched down to inspect the table across the room from you, you could barely make out your disheveled, terrified expression within the reflection of his knife. Your breath hitched, and you fought hard to stay quiet, pushing any and all thoughts aside, shoving lamenting to the recesses of your brain.

“Hm, quite a recluse, aren’t we?” He sighed, exaggerated and exasperated, growing tired with your state of hiding. He knew that you were close, that you were here in the room with him. One of the shelving units happened to obscure you from sight, but not for much longer.

The man clicked his tongue, tapping the blade of his knife against the top of the table. His movements were akin to a seasoned predator, searching for his prey, eerie-blue eyes fluttering over his surroundings. You couldn’t stay hidden forever, and as much as he thought about waiting you out, he was growing impatient.

He stalked forward, standing only a few inches away from the shelving unit and table you were huddled underneath, and it allowed you a closer look at him, even if it was dark. Moonlight pooled inside of the room, pale slivers dancing across his pale skin, one side of his face marred and riddled with scars.

You almost let out a squeak of terror, shoving yourself as far back into the table as you could go, your legs beginning to shake. He was so close, and if you were to reach out, you might’ve been able to touch him with enough straining. Your teeth were sinking into the flesh of your palm to keep from making noise, no matter how much it might’ve hurt.

“Where could you be, darling?” He hummed, gaze flickering toward the shelves and tables on his left. There was something terrifying about his glower, laced with sinister intent, intermingled with a misplaced adoration. Placing the knife back into his belt for now, he walked forward, giving you the illusion that he was searching elsewhere.

With an indomitable amount of strength, he wrenched backwards, gripping the table you were hiding underneath, and practically tossed it to one side, watching it fly across the splintered floorboards. He heard you scream, paralyzed and trembling where you sat, clad in the jumpsuit of a patient.

“There you are, my love.” He purred, standing tall above you, clasping his hands together. There was nowhere for you to go — you were trapped, pinned within the jaws of this man. “Not such a recluse now, I see.” The man grabbed you by the back of the jumpsuit, hauling you forward.

“P—Please don’t kill me!” You wailed, whimpering when he jerked you forward with an inhuman amount of strength. He dragged you from the darkness and into the vast stretch of moonlight upon the floor, and it hurt to feel some of the splinters catching upon your skin. “Please!” You begged.

The man was quick to crouch down on top of you, so much bigger and much, much stronger. In such close proximity, he was more human than the rest of them in appearance, save for that tangled web of livid scars on the right side of his face. His eyes were bloodshot, a sea of red around cerulean irises. A snarl left him when you wriggled underneath him, hands tangled into the front of your jumpsuit.

You were no patient — not at all, he realized.

You were clever enough to disguise yourself as one, for whatever purpose, but he wasn’t blind, and he wasn’t stupid. There were no female patients at Mount Massive Asylum — at least, none that he hadn’t created himself. Wherever you were from, whatever you were doing in this place, he took it as a sign that you were placed here just for him.

Why else would you be here?

Grasping your chin within his hand, he inspected you, your pretty face and doe-like stare, the small cut you’d endured along your jaw — nothing that he couldn’t fix for you before the wedding. You became quiet, letting out the occasional whimper, and you didn’t struggle nearly as much as he thought you would. The pad of his thumb stroked across your skin, brows furrowing together.

“So beautiful,” He uttered, lips curling into a lovesick grin. “It seems that I won’t have to do any sort of alterations this time.” You were perfect — at last, had he found his true love? Confusion permeated your gaze, accompanied by a furrowed brow yourself as you were completely still underneath him. No use in fighting to make it worse, you figured. “Marvelous.”

Alterations? You were baffled — this man was caught within his own nightmarish fantasy, just like the rest of the patients. You shivered when he caressed your cheek, your chest rising and falling with your quick, labored breathing. He terrified you, but not nearly as much as some of the patients you’d encountered here.

“So very quiet, aren’t we?” His thumb trailed across your lower lip, head cocked to one side. “You do speak, don’t you darling? It would be a shame if I couldn’t hear you,” His sigh was exaggerated, dramatic. He clicked his tongue, reveling in your softness. You were the silkiest thing he’d touched in ages. “Especially on our wedding night.”

Trapped underneath him, you didn’t even know what to say — words coagulated within the back of your throat, unable to force themselves out. Your breathing was sporadic and panicked; you were a canary caught within the jaws of a cat. He held your face with a strong grip, one that was demanding and not entirely gentle, commanding your attention.

“Wh—What are you going to do to me?” You gushed, swallowing hard as the man released your face, gloved hand falling to your sternum. The way he towered over you and enveloped you was wholly intimidating, and you wouldn’t dare try and fight this man, no matter how he presented himself. You ogled the knife on his belt, instead.

“What you were made for,” He uttered, palm finally coming to rest across your belly. “To be my beloved bride,” He leaned in toward your face, inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent. “To bear my children.” You couldn’t tell if he was serious, but his tone indicated that this was what he planned to do to you.

It sounded insane, but it was ultimately better than dying. Your head told you to run, to scream and flee, but you were fighting against all rationale. If you could subdue him, maybe it would be easier to get away. You couldn’t tell if he was toying with you, but it didn’t seem that way. You remembered the hand-stitched wedding dresses you saw when you’d first escaped downstairs.

You said nothing — maybe it was shock, the words coagulating within the back of your throat, or maybe you were unwilling to speak. Your chest rose and fell at a panicked pace, heart hammering so hard that it rang out within your ears. This man was glowering down upon you with a twisted smile, trapped within fantasy and not reality.

“Use your words, darling. I would hate to pry that mouth of yours open,” His words took on some frightening edge, dark and dangerous as he squeezed your chin so hard that you whimpered, and you opened your mouth right then. “Such beauty.” He sighed, petting your side with his other hand.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you reluctantly spoke, your tone kept sickeningly sweet in an attempt to subdue him. “Marriage?” You breathed, swallowing hard as you put on some sort of facade. “Ar—Aren’t you going to propose?” You inquired, and that seemed to delight your future “husband”.

He hummed, hastily removing something from one of the breast pockets of his crudely-made vest. “Of course,” He purred, and sure enough, he presented you with a tarnished, silver ring, topped in tiny diamonds and crusted crimson. You wondered whose finger he cut off to obtain the trinket. “There we are.”

Snatching ahold of your hand, he practically jammed it onto your left ring finger, no matter how ill-fitted it happened to be. You gulped, hand trembling throughout the whole ordeal as he managed to get it onto your hand. The ring would’ve been pretty if it weren’t for the environment, the dingy blood, or the man forcing it onto your hand.

“Now it’s official.” You squeaked, your finger throbbing with pain as you let your palm settle next to you. There was a tremulous tremor within the bottom of your throat, making your voice quiver whenever you spoke. It was some conscious response to fear, to the amount of stress you were feeling in that very moment.

Sweeping you off of your feet, your newfound groom held you like a blushing bride, squeezing you against his wide chest. His countenance was contorted into a lovesick grin, glittering eyes glowering down at you, but there was some unhinged malevolence behind it, lingering beneath the surface.

He carried you through his labyrinth of sewing machines and wreckage, humming to himself as he made his way toward the torture table. You almost gasped when you saw one of the patients bound and wailing on the wooden surface, completely stripped bare. His skin was mottled and strange, like the rest of the patients here.

You looked away, breath hitching within your throat, and your new companion seemed to notice your immediate discomfort. “If his screams bother you, darling, I will get rid of the little whore.” He murmured, and you shook your head. You weren’t about to have anymore blood on your hands.

You had no idea where he was hauling you off to — you could barely remember the way out, if there was any getting out at all. This man seemed far more cunning and more intelligent than most of the patients here, just as brutal and crazed as the rest of them. You intended on playing the long game, making him as docile as possible first.

“Oh, my love,” He sighed, pressing his lips against the top of your head, “I am so fortunate to have found you. I certainly hope that none of those filthy creatures have laid their hands upon you.” It was all said with such sincerity that you knew, for him, it was completely real — but delusional, all the same. “I will take such good care of you, I swear it.”

This was insanity — you should’ve run when you had the chance, try to find your way out of this hellish labyrinth, but it was too late now, wasn’t it? Tears pricked at your eyes, but you worked swiftly to blink them away, pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond to whatever left this man’s mouth.

Even if it all sounded outlandish and strange, you needed to keep up the facade, you needed to subdue him, get him to trust you. Playing along was the only way that you knew how. “Thank you,” Your voice seemed much steadier than you thought it would. “For taking care of me, Mr. Gluskin.” Despite the anxiousness wrought within your tone, he paid it no mind.

This was a maze — a horrible, bloody maze. The more this man winded through corridors, marked by crimson stains and the stench of decay, the more your heart sank into the pit of your stomach. You were involuntarily clutching onto him out of fear, attempting to suppress your shudder as he passed by a set of doors — you swore you saw hanging bodies.

“How formal,” He uttered, lifting an eyebrow before shaking his head. “It’s Eddie, darling.” Eddie Gluskin — the man downstairs. You nodded several times over, terrified of upsetting the man. As Gluskin took you deeper into the depraved clutches of his own personal hell, you subtly searched for exits, for windows, any shred of potential escape.

At last, he arrived at a room at the very end of a corridor — a dead-end, of course. Wherever you were, it looked like a wing for a handful of patients. Moonlight pooled within the confines of Gluskin’s quarters, windows barred by wrought-iron bars, the pounding of rain reverberating against bulletproof glass. He locked the door behind him, unceremoniously depositing you onto his unkempt bed.

Scrambling to gather yourself, your gaze tore away from the macabre scenery of his room and toward the crazed man himself, eyes glistening like pinpoints of bright light. Gluskin only stood a few feet away from you, but the distance seemed so thin, as if he were pressed against you, weighing you down with his indomitable presence.

The sinful, hungry sheen within his stare only solidified why he’d brought you here — your stomach sloshed with a turbulent worry, goosebumps collecting themselves at the base of your spine. An equivocal tension built between the both of you, marked with your mounting awareness and Eddie’s violent lust. The gleam of the knife caught upon silvery rays — you knew you needed to tread carefully.

“Irresistible you,” Eddie crooned, his voice emerging as that familiar husky lull he’d used with you upon your first encounter. “I must admit to my vulgarities, darling.” He hesitated, breathing uneven and tight with excitement as he stalked closer, akin to that of a fearsome predator. “I don’t think that I can wait until our wedding night.”

Swallowing hard, you felt the knot within your gut, words coagulating within the bottom of your throat, unable to emerge to the surface. Your digits wrenched themselves into the sheets beneath you, heart hammering so hard that it threatened to burst from your chest. You were afraid, you were nervous — but you knew better.

Rejecting Gluskin would only spell your doom, and so you played along, played right into his hand, into his maddening delusions of lust and of eternal matrimony. Your lips parted, and only a stuttering breath emerged, your eyes fluttering between his grinning visage and the bloodstained knife hanging from his hip.

“You know how a man gets when he wants a woman.”

Eddie’s voice was nothing more than some seductive purr, and admittedly, you found it alluring, deep down. It was vile to come to the conclusion that you were getting some sliver of enjoyment out of this, and you wanted to vomit, but you steeled yourself instead. The closer he stepped, the more you crumbled underneath the lascivious ogling he gave you.

You’ve never done this before — you’ve never been in this situation. It certainly wasn’t playing out how you expected it to be within your mind, but that's besides the point. “I’ve — I’ve never …” You left your sentence vague, but your implications ignited something dark and deadly within Gluskin.

“Oh?”

At last, there was nowhere left to go, the Groom looming directly in front of you, a malignant shadow that refused to depart. You caught the pearlescent sheen of his teeth through the caliginous room, feeling unnerved at the sight of his countenance. His grin was wolfish, chilling — it sank right into your bones, making you shiver.

“Saving yourself for me,” Eddie hummed, gaze raking across your form before he motioned toward your threadbare, bloodied garments. “Remove your clothes.” He stepped back enough to allow you proper room, but he wanted to watch for his own enjoyment, watch you unwrap before his very eyes.

Your hands trembled as you sheepishly unfastened the buttons at the top of the patient’s jumpsuit, attempting to suppress your nervousness. Your obedience was enthralling to Gluskin, whose hands tightened into fists in order to restrain himself, knuckles white underneath his gloves. He watched you like a predator would watch prey — obsessed, ravenous.

Sucking in a sharp breath, tears pricked at your eyes, but you fought against them, quivering as you peeled off the top of your jumpsuit, letting the tarnished fabric collect around your hips. Sheepishly, you adjusted yourself enough to wriggle the jumpsuit past your thighs, discarding it in a pile onto the splintered floorboards.

Instinct told you to shield yourself from this man’s grotesque stare, but you didn’t, sitting in your undergarments with skin so hot that you felt completely feverish. Laid bare before your newfound ‘husband’, his breath hitched, surveying your flesh, the canvas of perfection set before him.

“You must lack proper hearing, darling,” Eddie rasped, taking one step forward, “I didn’t say to stop, did I? It would be unwise to keep your beloved waiting.” He reveled in your doe-eyed stare, throat tensing, jaw tightening as you nodded, fingers clamoring toward the metal hooks at the center of your back.

Shrinking underneath his stare, you hastily removed your brassiere, terrified of the consequences if you went any slower. However, your mind bristled with an idea — your mouth began to move before you could make a rational decision. “Maybe you could remove the last piece?” You asked, bewildered by the sultriness that permeated your tone.

Christ, you were so fucked — you’ve never been looked at in the way that Gluskin stared at you, as if you were the incarnation of perfection, living and breathing, placed before him. You despised yourself, hated that you reveled in the way he worshipped you through eyes alone.

Foaming at the mouth, Eddie swarmed forward, brazenly stepping in between your legs, absentmindedly licking at his lower lip. “You’ve found your voice,” He purred, inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent. “Such a little whore, aren’t you? I find myself unsurprised,” Those strong hands curled into the waistband of your panties. “Always the quiet ones.”

You nearly choked, hands flying toward his biceps, thick and taut underneath the dirtied fabric of his dress shirt. You hoped that you weren’t thinking straight, prepared to excuse this all away by means of fear and intimidation, but you couldn’t — desire crept into your mind, poisoning all sense of coherency.

He kissed you then and there, devouring your mouth with a sloppy passion, if one could call it that. It was domineering, hellbent on making you fully succumb, but to your chagrin, you were reciprocating his kiss, clutching onto him for dear life. You were cursing yourself tenfold for this — maybe it didn’t matter now.

A sonorous groan fell upon your lips, and Gluskin didn’t remain static for very long. Wandering hands wrenched your panties aside, just enough for his fingers to deftly stroke at your slit. You gasped, hips involuntarily jolting into the sensation of his hand. It ignited a fire within the pit of your belly, a fire that now demanded to be extinguished.

“Darling,” Eddie hummed, brazenly licking at the corner of your mouth, “So soft, so …” He kissed you again, famished and in desperate need of your embrace, rutting his fingers into your clit. A grunt ripped past his throat when you ground yourself into his hand again. “So very needy, aren’t we? I’d like to remedy that.”

You wanted to beg so bad — you couldn’t. It would leave you stranded with nothing but regret if you did, but he touched you with such want that it sent you spiraling. You were going to surrender your virtue to this man — this monster, this deranged killer.

So be it, then. You were tossing caution to the wind.

After he stroked at your soaked cunt, he brought his fingers to his mouth, greedily sucking on glistening digits before he let out some strangled noise. “You taste divine,” He panted, clicking his tongue. “If you behave, perhaps your husband will reward you.” Gluskin growled, pressing a palm into your chest as he pushed you down.

Squirming and writhing atop the mattress, you listened to the unbuckling of his belt, watching him wrench his vest open, buttons ripping from their sockets. He was deliciously toned, some bulky mass of musculature, some of the scarring having made its way down his collarbone. You wanted to hate him, and you couldn’t.

You couldn’t.

“You are going to make an excellent mother,” Gluskin husked, hunching over you, animalistic and tangled up within his own fervor and fantasies. He spread your legs apart, teeth gnashing together as he freed his cock, unbearably hard and slathered with precum. “Swollen with my seed,” He groaned, guiding himself to your cunt. “A gift to be savored.”

He was going to break you in half — you had no idea of what to expect, but your lovesick paramour was very well-endowed. Gluskin was cunning enough to pick up upon the momentary terror that settled within your gaze, and he grunted, callously pushing his cock inside of you without much warning at all.

You whimpered, crying out in both shock and uncertainty, but after pain, came pleasure. It was all rushed — it lacked tact, it lacked any shred of romanticism, all falsified within the twisted mind of Gluskin. He set an uneven, sporadic pace from the very beginning, pent-up and needing you.

“Let me,” Each word was enunciated with the brutal thrust of his hips, cock driving into your tight cunt with no amount of gentleness. “Let me fill you up.” Eddie snarled, growing somewhat impatient as he attempted to find some sort of rhythm. One hand settled against the swell of your hips, thumb caressing along the side of your stomach.

A wanton moan tore past your lips as you held onto him for dear life, eyes squeezed shut, your stomach flooding with a rush of relief. Warmth pooled between your thighs, and the more your arousal grew, the easier it became for Gluskin to fuck you without much hindrance. It wasn’t perfect — it was a little uncomfortable, his pace, but you didn’t care.

Grunts and snarls emerged from the man above you, voice strained with exertion as he let his other hand tangle around your throat. His grasp wasn’t exactly suffocating, but it was far from tender, thumb pressing just above your pulse point. Wisps of air were stolen from your lungs, but not enough to draw concern.

Gluskin rutted into you like a man possessed, groaning all the while, wanting to cum inside of you so very terribly. He fantasized about what you might look like, doting and full with his child, providing him with the family he’d always craved. Lacking the proper upbringing, he would replace such neglect with you — with a new life, with his aspirations.

His mind turned salacious very quickly, beginning to focus on now — on stuffing you with his seed, fucking you until every shred of energy was expended. Your cunt clenched around his cock, and you sang to him with your symphony of needy whimpers and mewls, panting his name as if it were the only word you knew.

“You like this, don’t you?” Eddie rumbled, pervious to your arousal — your subdued demeanor had only given way to the festering desire inside of you as he destroyed your walls. “Oh, you whorish madonna,” An amorous chuckle escaped him, followed by a breathy growl. He didn’t pause, no stopping him as his cock battered your poor, abused cunt. “I want to hear you say it.” He snapped.

Gluskin had flipped a switch inside of you — you wanted this so badly. The life you desired had been stolen from you when your engagement broke into a thousand pieces, and now, he was giving you everything. Albeit, he went about it in such horrible ways, but you couldn’t keep lying. You loved this.

“I—I want you so bad,” You whimpered, unable to stop yourself, now. “Please,” Doing the one thing you wouldn’t do — beg. “Eddie, please, please,” He was filling you up, cock pumping inside of you over and over again, pulsating with heat, fucking you ragged. “Cum inside of me.” The rational side of you cried out in dismay, in disappointment — you elected to ignore it entirely.

The noise that Gluskin made sent shockwaves right into the pit of your stomach, soaked slit giving way to the brutality of his thrusts. He stooped down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, biting at the thin flesh, tasting a swarm of copper during the exchange. Eddie was frenzied, face burying itself into your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin, marking what now belonged to him.

With a strangled moan, you rolled your hips into his, feeling his cock pound into you until it could go no further, stretching your cunt with his size. Stinging bruises and bloodied marks were littered across both neck and collarbone, accompanying your myriad of injuries received from the rest of the Asylum. His hand held your throat, pressing underneath your jaw.

“Darling,” Eddie nearly moaned, using whatever wave of strength he had left to obliterate you, fucking you so hard that you swore you saw stars. His cock lewdly slapped into your womb, aiming to fill you up, carrying out his goal of breeding you. “Such a sin, you filthy,” He panted, sticking two fingers into your mouth, “Filthy little slut.” He rasped.

Sputtering and choking around his fingers, you felt them press toward the back of your throat, and you wanted to fly off the edge. Gluskin’s cock didn’t stop, not for a second, fucking you into oblivion, pulsating with heat, making sure each thrust reached for your insides. The tension was climbing, the coil threatening to burst for the both of you.

The sight of you gagging and sucking on his fingers was what really did it — Gluskin saw right through you like a thin, threadbare veil. You were just as desperate as he was, and his lips curled into some devilish grin, throwing you off-guard. “You’ll be perfect,” He grunted, purring next to the shell of your ear, “I am going to make you perfect.” Eddie snarled, and that’s when you came undone.

You felt weightless, floating — you made a mess all over his cock, tendrils of drool leaking from the corners of your mouth as he kept his fingers lodged into your mouth. Tears stung at your eyes, and instead of fighting them off as you had for so long, you let yourself sob from the pleasure.

Eddie’s hips finally lost their unyielding brutality, stuttering as he came inside of you, buried so deep that you thought he’d snap you into two. Rope after rope of hot, virile seed pumped inside of you, coating your insides, leaving you unbelievably full. He rasped and grunted, hunched in above you as he bred you.

He was staring at you again, slowly drawing his fingers out of your mouth before wrenching his hand around your chin. The suddenness of his gesture took you by surprise, but this hold wasn’t nearly as painful as the one he’d executed earlier.

Gluskin kept himself inside of you, ensuring that his attempt at a legacy be sealed, thumb tracing across your bloodied lower lip. His countenance contorted into one of pure delusions, an unrestrained obsession, the swell of possessiveness that threatened to swallow you whole. He wrapped an arm underneath you, pressing you close to his chest, lips lingering next to the shell of your ear.

“In sickness and in health.”

#eddie gluskin x reader #eddie gluskin x you #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x you #slasher fanfiction #eddie gluskin #outlast #outlast fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #sunkendreams masterlist

2K notes · View notes

mehidktbh · 2 years

Note

ok ok this idea has not left my mind in hours:

Bo and his afab s/o having sex for the first time (as in, sex with each other, but they're not virgins lol), and he is all considerate and making sure they're comfortable

but the s/o encourages him to, like... be rougher? like the really precise scenario (geez I'm getting flustered writing this even on anon lmao) is basically

when he actually goes to push in for the first time he's really gentle etc and doesn't wanna hurt them, but the s/o is like "just go for it, be rough" (then just check in to make sure they are sure and will say if it gets too much cause communication is sexy)

and basically they kinda get off on the initial pain and discomfort? and maybe even cum just from that alone?

sorry idk if this makes sense it's 9 pm and I'm just having major Sinclair brainrot rip

A/N: I LOVE THE IDEA OF BO BEING SOFT AND CONSIDERATE IN BED, AHHHHHHHH! 😆 I SMILED READING THAT!!! You can definitely see I went overboard with this, I was so caught up in the moment for this story. So sorry about that, still hope you love it tho :) (Also sorry if this is not ideal I felt as if I tried to make Bo soft but probably failed a little.)

Warning 18+: Includes sexual actives, Bo giving the reader oral, a little bit of edging, swearing, unprotected sex and the reader fainting

Bo's eyes opened sharply, he quickly observed the dark, quiet room. There was nothing in sight except pitch black the room was nothing to his eyes. He was sweating and hot, his pants felt tight and moist as the room became hotter as if someone was breathing right in front of him.

He couldn't remember much from last night as if we were hangover right now, but then again he's been drunk too many times to know that he wasn't hungover and that maybe he just had too much of good sleep and forget everything.

The last thing he remembered was you, you dragging him to the couch as you muttered something about how heavy he was. You tucked him into a blanket and said something before kissing his forehead and turning the lights off.

He slowly got up, with each movement something came to his hand, a tiny fragment more of the furniture and decorations felt weird as if he had never touched them before. He finally reached the wall feeling all along with it until he felt the same light switch that has always been there since he can remember, in a blink of an eye the living room lit up.

He looked down at his pants that have been moist every since he woke up, he thought the entire time he pissed himself but the second he touched the wet spot on his jeans it looked more like cum? Maybe it was precum he thought to himself as he whipped his hands along his shirt that stunk like he hasn't taken a shower in over a week, it remembered him of Lester through.

He brings his hand down to his pants again, rubbing against his erection gasping as he quickly leaned against the dining table. He was desperate and felt as if he was going burst any second, he didn't want to wake you through since you, since he hasn't done it yet with you yet. He had been patient and waited for you to make the first move but over time he couldn't help himself, every time he looked at you he felt as if he just wanted to bend you over and take you right then and there.

♡ ♡ ♡

You woke up to the sound of the door creaking open, the loud noise echoed through the room and house alerting you someone was there. You quickly shut your eyes trying to ignore the sound and thinking if it was the right idea to yell out for Bo. The second you were about to get up and investigate a hand touched your thigh that rested under the blankets, you shot up from the bed and was met with Bo standing there calmly.

"Did I scare ya', Darlin?'" He chuckled, as his thumb rubbed circles into your clothed thigh "Fuck, Bo" You whispered, "What time is it?" He stood there for a second trying to remember the time that he checked back when he was in the living room. "3ish?" You were surprised, why was Bo doing up so late "What are you doing up so late?" He stood there for a second, thinking if he wanted to tell the truth on how he felt right now or just lie instead.

"I just..." He quietly and quickly murmured out the last words as if he was embarrassed to say what he truly wanted and felt, "What?" "God, Y/N you really are pressuring me aren't ya'?" You were confused about what he was trying to say and what he was trying to get his point across, "I... want you" He said looking down as if he was embarrassed and never thought he'd have to say that before in his life.

He always had a way with the ladies, he would never really have to ask what he wanted, instead, he just got it most times. But this time you were really opening up something he thought he would never have to do before.

You didn't know what to say or do, sure you have had sex before but this was different, Bo was different and behind his charming and fake personality he puts on for the visitors, you thought he'd never ask you like this.

"I mean..." Bo quickly took that as a yes and he immediately crawled upon you and started to attack your neck, "Ahh~" You moaned out, Bo was already going ruff even if he just started, he continued to suck away at your neck leaving bruises for people to see. "Bo...please" You grabbed at his shoulders, maybe this was different than last time and maybe Bo would open you up to something more.

Bo's hand went under the blankets, his hand starting from your chest as it got lower and lower finally reaching your pants, he slipped his hands under your underwear touching your pussy. You moaned out and instantly coved your mouth "What if Vincent hears us?" You were concerned as to how Vincent could most definitely hear you guys if you were loud enough, and from the basement, you can definitely hear what's happening upstairs, only faintly through.

"Fuck him, tonight it's all abou' you," He said in between breaths, God Bo made it so hard not to go against him. He kissed you, he was sucking on your lower lip as he bit it slowly, you softened into the kiss. Everything felt like fireworks and nothing seemed real Bo was definitely experienced and had done this before, but not like this.

His fingers were now slowly pulling down your pants slowly and painfully, "Bo, hurry..." "I don't want to hurt you" He smirked, his face inches away from yours, his lip just nearly touching yours.

♡ ♡ ♡

Your clothes were thrown and tossed in the corner of the room with Bo's a long time ago, instead, Bo was now licking at your pussy almost going soft and slow for you. He knew that this was your first time with him and he didn't want to rush it or go overboard, instead, he went steadily and always stopped checking to see if you were okay.

You tightly closed your thighs around Bo's head, he was now in between your thighs licking and sucking away, you were so lost in your own though you completely forget about Vincent and how you didn't want to disrupt him. Bo stopped as he bring up his head to look at you, he could sense that you were so close to finishing yet he wanted to take a break which seemed to annoy you.

"Why did yo' stop?" Your breathing was hard and you tried to focus on what you just told Bo, "You seemed to need a break" He smirked, your legs were coved in cum and Bo's saliva. You tried to say something but all that came out was something Bo nor you could understand, "What was tha', darlin'?" His hands grabbed at your thighs his head now closer to your face.

He went in again for a kiss this time gently grinding himself, your stomach twisting in a knot. He couldn't stop attacking her lips as you continued to cry and moan everything you wanted was happening but not the feeling of Bo being inside you.

Bo finally pulled away, your breath caught in your throat as you held it in for what felt like forever. You let it out, you felt your whole self leaving with that one breath. Bo finally towered above you, his hands gripping at your hips he looked concerned but also smiling as you looked at him, you wondered why Bo looked concerned, sure maybe your face is weird or maybe you look like you were about to faint I mean you do feel very light-headed right now.

"Are you alrigh'?" He chuckles out, "You look paler than anythin'" You nod, you feel woozy but alright to continue, Bo grips your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, now he looked serious. "Bo, please I need you" You whimpered and squirmed under his position trying to at least create some friction. "Are you sure?" He asks, tilting his head "Yes, yes!" You couldn't bear this anymore Bo was being too nice and considerate and you were so desperate.

♡ ♡ ♡

You couldn't hold back your tears and cries as Bo thursts in and out of you, after what seemed like forever Bo finally entered you. Starting off slowly as he made his way up, you pleaded and cried as Bo bites and nips at your neck.

His body was now resting upon yours, your breasts were smushed under Bo's weight and his arms were placed on both sides on the bed, just near your head. "Fuckk" He breathed out, "Your so tight, Y/N" He couldn't help but speed up a little more almost knocking the wind out of his and your breath.

You gripped and held tightly onto Bo's back as if you were to let go he would disappear. Your body was now littered with bruises and marks that Bo was more than proud of, nothing was making sense to you all you could focus on was you and your boyfriends bodys.

"I'm gonna cum" That was the word you were looking to say all night as Bo instead went slow waiting for the massive build-up. "Just a littl' longer, Your doin' so good" He stroked your hair and slowly stroked your skin too, but you couldn't hold on much longer and you knew Bo couldn't either.

In one last thrust, you cried out as Bo grunted something out against your neck, you could feel the knot leaving your stomach and you coming back down to earth. Everything was coming back into your head as if it was piece by piece, "Oh God, fuck..." Bo slowly slid out of you as he looked down to see the mess he left behind.

Instead, you were speechless, tears stained your face and your mouth was opened. "Are you okay?" You felt as if that sentence was now stuck in your head from how many times Bo has said that, you look up at his now arched back and sweaty body.

You nodded despite not understanding what Bo said and instead you could feel white noise suddenly flood and replace Bo's voice, your eyes began to blur but not from the tears that marked the bedsheets but instead from all the overwhelmedness you just experienced.

Before blacking out the last night you saw was the sun making its way through the windows, reflecting Bo's sitting body on the wall. As he called out your name.

#bo sinclair x reader #slashers #bo sinclair #slasher #house of wax #horror #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair x you

360 notes · View notes

ventiswampwater · 1 year

Note

Okay, hear me out - mainly because of your fic.

Bo gets reader pregnant and is very salty about it but also very proud

the idea of bo successfully impregnating someone is SO fucking terrifying djhjdsfhjdf can u fuckin imagine having to deal w/his ass while ur pregnant and sick and moody. and he's all ooga booga that's my girl ooga booga I did that hehehehehehe u ain't goin nowhere ooga booga

absolutely HORRIFIC oh my god. he'd be so fuckin weird about it??? simultaneously annoyed that ur now a permanent thorn in his side but also absolutely SMUG SELF-SATISFIED

tangentially related, but a couple months ago me and poki transcended space n time together and fully lost our minds writing the WEIRDEST shit about this terrifying fucking concept. emphasis on the terrifying

under the cut is an UNCOMFORTABLE little snippet I wrote from that madness.

concept: you have the baby. the world doesn't end, even though it feels like it does. that baby turns twelve and stumbles upon something he shouldn't.

“I found more in Pa’s drawer.” He chokes around air, his words coming out in watery gulps. He stares at you through your eyes. You see him without seeing him. You see yourself.

“What were you doing in there?” You hear your voice behind you, curled beside your ear. It comes from the door and the window and the wallpaper—and then deeper still, in the core of the house, bleeding.

“I was lookin’ for a gun.”

The floor underneath you splinters and you bottom out. You’re in the caverns snaking under the town and the church pews. You’re not in any of those places, either. The fuzz of television static is back, crowding around you and pushing you between the jagged hopping of the lines as they jitter around your skull.

“Baby.” You gather him into your arms, pulling him into the crook of your neck. He sobs. His grip is too tight. You’ve been here before, but never like this. The static hisses into glittering points of light. The front of your dress is soaked with tears, with the blubber of drool from his mouth as he babbles that

he didn’t know why he did that, because daddy always keeps his guns in the living room, and he knows that, but he went in anyway because maybe he’d forgotten this time—

Your lightning bug boy with baby fat still in his cheeks, skimmed off the edges to make room for a face that began and ended with you. Half-man already, limbs too big for the space he occupied. The remnants of the boy on the roof, a bruise blooming on his cheek. Your heart walking around and growing teeth.

—and maybe maybe mama, I could. I could.

I know how.

“You gotta go put all that back.” Your voice is a whisper of smoke above the tree line.

“How long you been here, mama?”

You can see yourself on the set of drawers over the top of his head. She smiles at you.

“Baby. You’ve gotta go put that back. Go put it all back right now.”

#oof sorry for that!!! ouch yikes ouch #asks #flaggermuser #pregnancy cw #sinclair brainrot hours #<-that's it! that's the tag!

77 notes · View notes

genesisrose74 · 3 years

Text

Taking on Tokyo

A/n: Hinata brainrot go brrrrrr — my heart has especially burned for timeskip! Shoyo recently, as the anime gets ever closer to that time, so be forewarned that there’s some manga spoilers concerning the post-timeskip situation (duh) in here since I’ll be focusing on the Tokyo Olympics Arc 😌 God I love this man so much — hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Hinata Shoyo x Olympian! Reader

Words: 2785

*****

The moments after one of the most significant events of your life was, quite literally, a blur. It only occurred to you that your earlier pass to the eighteen yard box of Yokohama stadium was successful after a horde of bodies swarmed your space, cheering and yelling words that could just barely be heard over the sound of screaming stadium fans.

The U.S. National Soccer team managed to take the lead against Canada, as one of the team’s star forwards volleyed a crossed ball into the back corner of the net. What more, it happened with just three minutes left into the game. And it was your cross that helped clinch the opportunity.

You had unceremoniously tripped over your own two feet after sending the ball sailing parallel to the end line, hence the initial uncertainty as to the outcome. But as ecstatic faces that glimmered with sweat commended you in a dog pile, you had soon come to your senses, ones screaming that winning the Olympic finals was at last in your team’s clutches.

For those last six minutes of the match (three more excruciating minutes added in extra time), your mind and body had buzzed with excited adrenaline that was eventually expended, until that final whistle blew loud in your ears and a gold medal fell proudly around your neck. It was a blur of cheering, crying, and a hell of a lot of random singing on the way back to the Village - overall a crazy exciting way to spend your first Olympic Games.

Yet, it felt as if nothing in that series of events compared to the nerves that sparked throughout your body at the thought of getting to see a familiar face soon thereafter.

Shoyo Hinata hadn’t called or texted you a single time after acquiring that gold medal, one that now sat contentedly on the nightstand of your room. It had been over 20 hours since you’d collapsed into the comfortable embrace of your temporary bed, simply exhausted from the previous day’s events and the celebrations that ensued.

It had been much, much longer since you’d seen the man in question in person. Nearly coming up on two and a half years at this point, if your incessant counting proved correct.

Scarce visits to Brazil and Japan, paired with an insurmountable number of phone calls, facetimes, and texts, had been the only threads connecting yourself and Shoyo for some time. While you were both set on maintaining each others’ company in any way possible, sustaining a relationship had not been the easiest considering your vastly different environments. After your adoring boyfriend of two years left for Rio, you were soon thereafter offered the ability to study and train in the U.S., where your birth country provided a route to join their Olympic soccer team.

In many ways, the opportunity was simultaneously the greatest blessing and a looming obligation. Japan was your home after all, and Shoyo was due to return there in time. But the promising volleyball athlete knew you’d been yearning for an opportunity as big as the international stage (similar to his own dreams), and he quickly assured that he could wait for you as long as needed.

And now, after years of training and being away from the other half of your heart, you’d finally made it back home with all your aspirations secured. Home, in both the literal and figurative sense, was within your reach.

Yet the tangerine-haired dummy that earned the latter definition of the word had yet to contact you, even after that spectacular win you’d been working towards for the last few years apart. Knowing him, he’d probably gotten too hyper for his own game in the following days and the thought slipped his mind, but you still couldn’t help the childish pout that settled on your features.

“You dork,” came your lighthearted sigh, checking your phone for any last minute notifications as the hotel elevator opened to the first floor. Tucking away the device after finding nothing new, you waved to a few teammates in the Village lounge as they chatted with other athletes - many of whom offered friendly nods of greeting as you walked by.

A number of your building’s residents sat spread around the large space of the bottom floor, splayed on couch cushions and sitting on stools as they waited for the evening shuttles - just world-class athletes wanting to get their hands on dinner as quickly as possible, with yourself among them. It should have been laughable with how casual it all was.

The situation would have spurred a lighthearted chuckle from your throat if you weren’t so caught up in your daydreams, ones that were soon to come true within the next day.

You shook your head with a smile as you opened the front doors, letting the calming breeze of Tokyo’s air wash over you. A small handful of fellow athletes had the same appreciation for the beautiful night, it seemed, as they leaned against the building’s walls in wait for the shuttles’ arrival. You took up a spacious spot against one of the large windows and crouched down on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath of atmosphere in a lame attempt to settle your nervous excitement.

‘You’re so enamored that Christine Sinclair could start a conversation with you and you’d not even bat an eye,’ one of your teammates had claimed the previous night, watching with amused eyes as you’d intently scanned your message notifications on the ride back to the Village. You had blushed profusely and nestled your face against your hands in a flustered response. ‘Is it really that noticeable?’

It was most definitely that noticeable — a fact that you came to terms with after mentally determining how many minutes longer it’d be before you could see Hinata in person again. His next volleyball game of the Olympic tournament was set for Ariake Arena at 2:00 pm the next afternoon, and it was there that you’d finally be reunited.

Was it a little cheesy that you’d been planning out the moment as if it were a blockbuster romance movie scene? Maybe, but you couldn’t help yourself.

It was out of unconscious instinct that you unlocked your phone to open social media, looking for something to pass the time before the dinner shuttles arrived. A congratulatory hashtag glowed atop your trending page, and you felt a surge of pride with the knowledge that it was in commendation of your team’s gold medal win from yesterday. You took a moment to silently scroll through the numerous tweets from notable celebrities, sports channels, and other fans, all of which highlighted the dreamlike moment you’d experienced firsthand.

A familiar username caught your eye as you flicked through the hashtag, face softening as Bokuto’s most recent tweet popped up on the screen. It was a retweet of a professionally taken picture, with you surrounded by some of your teammates, all adorning face-splitting grins as golden confetti rained from the air.

“See #15?? That’s one of my best friends right there!!! Congrats on gold 🥳💛 well deserved!”

You smiled at the sweet message and liked the tweet, opting to comment an assortment of hearts and well wishes for his performance the next day in the responses. Even on Team Japan, Bokuto couldn’t help but unabashedly support your achievements whenever they arose.

“Looking at the trending page for your win?”

You nodded, still gazing down at your screen. “It’s pretty surreal to look at, but really sweet to see the messages.”

“I would hope they’re all nice messages, since you all put so much time and effort into getting that medal.”

The air was silent again for a second, the only noise being your hum of agreement and the sound of cars from the nearby road.

And then the familiarity of his voice registered, hitting you smack in the face like an avalanche.

Your head whipped to the left to find a standing figure, dressed in athletic sweats and a Team Japan windbreaker that suited him well. His hands were large and tanned, as one sat perched on his hip in a teasingly expectant manner, and tangerine-colored hair appeared mussed and fluffy in your peripheral vision like you’d always remembered. As if to top it all off, a blinding smile reflected the male’s clear amusement with the situation as you took him in with shocked eyes.

“Come here often?” he inquired, tone airy.

Shoyo opened his arms wide as you scrambled up to greet him, a surprised laugh leaving his lips when you jumped into them without hesitation. Strong, toned limbs easily wrapped around the back of your waist and held you tightly to his body, one that radiated warmth and the uncanny smell of citrus fruit when you breathed in. Despite the happiness that exploded within you at his sudden appearance, you fought an urge to start crying on the spot.

“I missed you so much, Shoyo,” you murmured against his chest, and he simply held you taught in response. “So, so much.”

“I missed you too, angel,” he replied, trailing a hand through your hair with tenderness, and the words felt so perfect in your ears.

The male gave a gorgeous smile when you moved your head back to take him in again, and his overjoyed expression practically melted your heart in an instant. Before even realizing it yourself, you’d grabbed Hinata by the jacket collar and brought his lips to yours, which your boyfriend answered with passionate enthusiasm as he cupped the side of your face. A satisfied grin painted his expression clear as day when you tried to bring him impossibly closer by the back of his neck, the athlete evidently bemused by your boldness in the moment.

God, you’d missed kissing him and his beautiful face so damn bad.

“Congratulations on getting gold, by the way,” he managed to sputter against your lips after a moment, at which your face warmed significantly.

“Thank you,” you chuckled, “and hopefully I can say the same for you pretty soon.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you cheer me on.”

“And I’m very excited to watch you in action.”

You both laughed, still holding onto one another as if the other would disappear if they let go - and slowly becoming aware that the current scene was likely being observed by other athletes as they stood outside. The latter bit of information didn’t hold much weight, though, and Hinata placed a soft kiss to your nose through his giggles like the blossoming romantic he was.

“You headed to dinner soon?” he asked, at which you nodded affirmatively.

“Come with me to eat?” came your subtle plea, yearning to spend a bit more time with him.

Hinata let out a small sigh. “I would, but we’ve got a team meeting pretty soon for tomorrow’s match. I just went out for a jog beforehand.”

A half-frown befell your expression for a split second, before it was quickly and easily dissipated by a flurry of fleeting kisses to your jawline that prompted a fit of your own giggling.

“Hey now, I’m all yours as soon as the tournament ends tomorrow evening,” Shoyo assured, and it was clear from his earnest tone that he was completely serious. “Anything you want, we’ll do.”

The thought of getting to spend a full day with him again made your mind buzz, grasp on his windbreaker’s fabric tightening in the midst of your giddy excitement. “And the next day?”

“And as many days after that, if you’d allow me to take some of your time.”

“Well if you say that, I’m going to get greedy.”

His chest reverberated with laughter, a sound you noticed to be slightly deeper than the last time you’d heard it in person. The change was subtle, but you found yourself quite fond of the fact for no real reason.

“I don’t mind if you get a little selfish,” he offered back, and the smile that lit up your face was starting to hurt with how long it had been there. The whole scene had you feeling like a high schooler all over again.

“I’ll hold you up on that tomorrow, then.”

With one last hug of the night, one that may or may not have stolen the breath from your lungs, Shoyo mumbled a sweet declaration of ‘I love you’ into the crook of your neck that sent your face alight with heat. You returned the phrase with full sincerity, squeezing him just a bit tighter before having to let go completely.

He gave an enthusiastic wave goodbye as he turned back to the direction of his team’s resident building, which you happily reciprocated before he jogged off.

That stupidly hazy smile of yours didn’t go away for the rest of the night, and your teammates amusedly questioned what could’ve possibly happened to cause such a heightening in your mood.

*****

The outside entrance of Ariake Arena prickled with energy in the middle of the afternoon, crowds packing around the large stadium in hopes of witnessing some of volleyball’s best and brightest players. Of course, Japan was among the few who’d made it past preliminary rounds and their first few elimination matches, a “Monster Generation” of starters living up to their name in practically every aspect. Your athletic beast of a boyfriend ranking among them without a doubt.

You’d already settled into your stadium seat quite early on, placed right beside Shoyo’s similarly skilled younger sister Natsu, who’d yet to arrive due to traffic. You were excited to see her again, as a blossoming volleyball player and quite the matured girl herself. Yet in the time before her appearance, you couldn’t help but get caught up watching warmups from the stadium’s closest row of seats.

Along with the familiar reappearance of the well known Black Jackals teammates, a few other players had surprised you upon walking into the main venue. It was a sight for sore eyes to find Iwaizumi Hajime at the corner of the court as he set up; his aspirations as an athletic trainer landing himself a very fitting spot in helping Team Japan’s very own athletes. Nekoma’s formerly resilient libero, Yaku Morisuke, only added to your astonishment when you noted him warming up on the sidelines. Shoyo hadn’t mentioned every one of the team members you would have recognized, it seemed.

What really grabbed your attention, however, was none other than said player who donned a very reminiscent number ten on his jersey. Atsumu and Kageyama had been switching off setting to the hitting lineup every handful of rounds, yet it seemed like the difference in setter didn’t impact the accurate powers put behind Hinata’s attacks.

Your infatuation was only fueled by the fact that the ginger had spotted you earlier when stretching, and each time he got back in line after a successful hit, he would offer you a teasingly loving gesture in one way or another.

And damn, was he cute.

After a brief warmup prior to the main crowd’s entrance into the massive space, Hinata couldn’t help but find himself gravitating towards your seat. You stifled a laugh when he finally made his way over, water bottle in hand and only a couple meters’ distance from your place in the stands as he sported an awfully smug smile.

“How did I look out there?” he inquired. “Was it a nice view?”

Despite the flustered embarrassment that flooded through your veins with his less-than-subtle flirtations, you retorted in a similar tone. “You looked really hot to me.”

The poor guy nearly choked on his water with your words, prompting you to bark out a laugh. “W-what?”

“You seemed to be on fire, I mean,” you joked. “Definitely game ready.”

Shoyo spluttered for a moment before regaining his composure, locking eyes with you as amber irises gleamed with his usual pre-game determination once more.

“You’re a minx,” he stated, mouth quirking into a lazy smile as he leaned forward. “Still down for dinner tonight though?”

You rolled your eyes jokingly. “Of course.”

“Perfect.”

Shoyo emphatically blew a kiss in your direction, which you pretended to catch and press against your heart. “Good luck, baby!” You called out. “I love you!”

“Love you too!” he grinned, turning towards the rest of his team as they began to form a huddle. You couldn’t help but shake your head with a smile at the giddy excitement that bubbled in your chest, all because of that ginger haired, elite volleyball Olympian standing over on the other side of the court. Your Shoyo, who seemed to shine brighter than a new gold medal in your eyes.

The joyous welcome back in more ways than one was a fantastic way to kick off your return to Japan, that was for sure.

108 notes · View notes