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[xslashers]

Stu Macher/Billy Loomis | You Offered

Stu Macher/Billy Loomis X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: mentions of killing, sexual themes (doesn’t go into too much detail), cheating, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1,182

A/N: this was supposed to be a drabble type thing with all of the slashers, but I went a little overboard so I’m just gonna write and post them all separate lol 

—

"Okay, everyone's always talking about how hot Laurie is, but what about Michael?" You stuffed a hand full of popcorn in your mouth as your friends all gave you weird looks. "You think Michael's hot?" Tatum asked you, eyebrows raised and furrowed.

"Of course I do! He's like six feet tall and have you seen his hands?" You went on. "But he's a murderer," Sidney pointed out.

"Well yeah, but I can look past that, I'd totally fuck him," you stated, shrugging your shoulders.

"You'd fuck a serial killer?"

"Hell yeah, if a serial killer came up to me and was like 'I'll let you live if you fuck me,' I'd be on my knees in a second," you took a swig of your beer.

"You're so weird," Sidney rolled her eyes at you, shaking her head in disappointment.

"No, Y/N has a point," Randy backtracked.

"Oh not you too," Sidney sighed.

"Yeah, I'm with Sid on this one, sorry," Tatum spoke up.

Billy and Stu glanced at each other.

"Butt out Tatum, no one asked," you sneered, only for her to throw a piece of popcorn at you. The conversation died down as the movie neared the ending.

Tatum and Sidney were the first the leave Stu's house, Randy leaving not long after them, leaving you, Stu, and Billy at the Macher resident.

"Billy lets go!" You yelled for him, growing impatient. He was supposed to drop you off at your house, but he was taking his sweet time doing whatever it was that he was doing. "If you don't hurry the fuck up, I'm walking home!"

You waited a little longer, before looking down at your watch for the third time that night. Sighing, you stood up from the stairs. Grabbing your jacket from the coat rack, you pulled it over your arms, readying yourself for the chilly night air.

But you stopped when you heard footsteps.

"It's about damn time! What the hell were you two doing up there anyway?" You asked as you turned around, but froze when you were met with two figures standing closer to you than you thought, dressed in the infamous ghost face Halloween costume.

"C'mon guys, you know Sid would flip her shit if she saw you two dressed up like this," you honestly weren't in the mood for their antics right now.

You grasped the edge of one of their masks and pulled it off over their head to reveal Stu, smiling down at you. "But Sid isn't here," he spoke in an almost tauntingly tone. "No one's here but you," the other figure, that was obviously Billy, moved to stand at your side, "and us." His voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Did my comments about fucking serial killers rile you two up or something?" You laughed awkwardly, obviously joking. "You have no idea," Stu's voice was dangerously low as his hands came up to cup your cheeks and tilt your head to look up at him.

"Okay well so hate to break it to you," you removed yourself from Stu's grasp, having felt too comfortable with it, and backed away from the two of them, "but you actually have to be serial killers, for my offer to stand." You rolled your eyes playfully as you turned around to face the front door.

"I'll see you two dorks at school tomorrow," you chuckled, grasping the cold doorknob with your hands and pulling the door open, only for it to be slammed shut with a strong hand from behind you. You jumped at this.

"Okay seriously, it's already past my curfew, my mom is going to kill me," you deadpanned, quickly getting tired of their games. "C'mon Y/N," you felt arms wrap around your waist and turn you around. They both stood in front of you, Stu having replaced his mask. You shifted uncomfortably.

"I'll let you live if you fuck me," Stu repeated your words from earlier that night. Your heartbeat sped up at this. "That's not funny. With you especially, Billy," you frowned. A week earlier, Billy had been in police custody because Sidney thought he was the one that attacked her at her house. "No one's laughing, Y/N," Billy pushed a couple strands of hair behind your ear.

"You two killed Steve and Casey?" You really didn't want to know the answer.

"Sure did, sweet cheeks! And Principal Himbry!" Stu grabbed your face with his free hand, pulling you close to him. "And we're gonna kill Randy and Tatum and Sidney, too," Stu continued, his voice dropping a few octaves. Your head spun, whether it was from this newfound information or being manhandled by Stu, you had no idea.

"And we were gonna kill you," Billy stepped in, pushing himself beside the taller boy, "but with an offer like that, we just had to rethink."

Honestly, you were still a little skeptical. Maybe they were just playing an extremely cruel joke on you. Or maybe they were telling you the truth and they were actually planning to kill you.

---

"Jeez Y/N, you look like shit," Tatum pointed out as she climbed into the backseat of the car, sitting beside of you. You glanced up at the rearview mirror, a pair of brown eyes already staring back at you.

"Yeah, I didn't sleep well last night," you laughed out, memories of just a few hours come back to you.

It was hot and intense. The both of them had devoured you and fucked you the entire night. Stu and Billy looked and acted like they had the best sleep of their life, even if they didn't get any. They didn't stop until the preset alarm that Stu had set for school went off.

You were weak and incredibly tired, but they shoved you in the shower with them and cleaned you up, before pulling some of Tatum's clothes that she left onto your body. They even went as far as to make sure you ate something.

"Are you wearing my clothes?" Tatum asked, eyebrows furrowed. You looked down at your outfit. "You must've left them at my house," you shrugged, trying to get her attention away from you.

She seemed to be content with the answer because she turned away from you. "Stu, are we still on for tonight," she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck from the back seat. He smiled at her, nodding his head. "Of course we are!" He acted like he didn't spend the last nine hours railing you.

You let out a sigh when the car pulled up in front of Sidney's house. Scooting in the middle, she opened the door and pushed herself into the back seat.

"Morning!" You cringed at how cheery she was.

"Y/N, are you feeling alright? You look a little rough?" Sidney said, placing the palm of her hand on your forehead to check to see if you had a fever.

"I'm okay, Sid," you forced out a laugh, "I just didn't get a lot of sleep."

[xslashers]

Bo Sinclair | Jealousy

Bo Sinclair X Reader

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 391

—

You were laying on the couch with Bo, your body draped over his, your lower body comfortably resting on his lap with your head laying on the arm of the couch; his hands rubbing at your thighs soothingly.

“I just really don’t like how touchy you got with her,” you sighed, frowning. Today had been a busy day, A group of tourists came in and Bo charmed his way into gaining the trust of one of the girls. 

She’d already been killed, but you were still plagues by the thoughts of her. “Honey, you know that was jus’ an act,” his thumbs rub gentle circles into your soft thigh. 

“Act or not, I don’t like it! How would you like it if I was feeling up on some guy, Bo?” You shook his hand off your thigh, throwing your arms over your chest in the process. 

Bo huffs, moving his hand back immediately. “You know damn well I’d hate every second of it, darlin’,” he grumbled. 

“Exactly,” you pouted, “don’t touch me.” You were probably overreacting, but you didn’t care. You pushed Bo’s hand off your thigh for the second time. 

He makes a sound of distress, “okay, get off me, then.” 

You looked down at your body thrown over Bo’s lap. He started to push you off of him, but you stopped him. 

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you reached for his hand, fingers wrapping around his wrist and pulling it down to rest on your thigh, yet again. 

Bo smirked, hand gripping at your plush skin, almost bruisingly. “Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You huffed, sliding yourself down the couch and readjusting the position you were in. 

With your legs still thrown over him, your upper body curled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. Bo’s free hand came up to card through your hair. 

“M’sorry for overreacting, I know you do it to gain their trust,” you pouted up at him. “Darlin’, I promise ya, ya ain’t gotta worry about anything. You’re it for me,” his voice was gentle and soothing. 

“I love you,” he continued, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

You sigh, your own hand coming up to cup the side of his face, bringing him in for a chaste kiss which he reciprocated immediately. 

“I love you, too,” your lips brushed against his. 

[xslashers]

Brahms Heelshire | I’ll Be Good

Brahms Heelshire X Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, mommy kink, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1,843

—

You and Brahms were currently sat comfortably in the main living room of the mansion. He’d been blabbing on about something you couldn’t quite pay attention to, your mind somewhere else. You weren't exactly sure how to bring it up, either.

You couldn't exactly say, "Hey, I'm horny, can we fuck?"

Well, I mean I guess you could've, but you weren't exactly that bold.

And honestly, that wasn’t the only thing on your mind. There was a bit more to it.

You and Brahms had been intimate before, and of course it was enjoyable, but you wanted to take initiative for a change. You knew Brahms didn't have any kind of experience before you, so you weren't sure how he would handle it, knowing you wanted to top him.

Honestly Brahms was good at fucking you! Honest! But, it’d be so much more enjoyable with him on the bottom.

You bit your lip, crossing your legs, trying to ignore the aching throb coming from your core. Brahms immediately stops talking, narrowing in on your crossed legs all at once.

"Are you okay?" He questions. He had long since dropped the child voice act after you started completely ignoring him, demanding that he spoke in his adult voice. It was raspy and husky, and it was hot. And it didn't do anything to help your situation.

Before you could stop to think otherwise you’d spit it out, “I want to be on top when we have sex.”

Straight to the point. Maybe you were a little more bold than you gave yourself credit for.

Brahms tiled his head slightly, his curly hair falling in front of his face. He froze, seemingly thinking about what you’d just said. It was something he too had been thinking about. He knew you’d lead both of them into a very good experience, but it seems he was quiet for too long.

You backtrack, “we don’t have to-“

Brahms shot up from his seat in the chair across from you, walking right up to where you were. "Yes," was all he said, pulling you up to stand on your feet. You laughed a bit, but followed him up the stairs to your room. He was rushing, you note to yourself. Hm, you could work with this.

Brahms pushed the both of you into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Why? You had no idea, considering you were the only ones in the house, but you didn't question it.

Perhaps it was a peace of mind thing. You take the lead now, wringing your hand from his grip and moving it to push at Brahms chest, forcing him back to the bed.

He went down with no protests, seemingly just as excited as you are. He watched you intently as you pulled your shirt off over your head, throwing it in a random corner of the room. You reach for the hem of Brahms own shirt, ripping it off of him. He let out a breathless noise, the dark look in your eye making his cock hard.

"Are you gonna be a good boy for me, Brahms?" You crawled up his body, situating yourself to straddle his hips.

Brahms choked on a moan, nodding his head vigorously. "Use your words, baby," you placed your hands on his chest and grinded against his clothed cock, feeling how hard he was.

He shakes, hands moving to grasp at your hips. But you grab them before they make it there, pinning them down beside him, “no touching.”

He whines out in protest, but shuts up as soon as you shoot him a look.

"I'm sorry, I'll be good, I promise," he moaned out as your hands slid up, starting to undo his pants. His voice breaks when your hand comes in contact with his red swollen cock, you grip him tight, almost too much, watching him stutter and search for purchase. He finds his hand grasped into the covers, holding on tightly.

"You're so hard for me and I've barley even touched you," you purred, moving your hand up and down his shaft, pre cum leaking from his tip.

Brahms cried out, hips thrusting up off the bed, not in control of his hips. You smirked at how needy he was for your touch.

You leaned down, popping the tip of his dick in your mouth, circling over the slit. You moaned at the taste of him.

Brahms hand shot up to grab ahold of your thigh. “Uh uh.” You grab his hand once more, forcing it down one more time. “I’m gonna leave you here if you try again.” Your voice was rough and raspy, immediately making him throw his head back in pleasure. “Yes, mommy.”

Your eyes shot up to his face, the name he had just called you completely catching you off guard. But you smirked.

"You want mommy to take care of you, baby?"

Brahms nodded, clenching his fists. “Please.”

You weren't going to make him wait any longer.

You stood up from the bed, hastily removing your pants and underwear in one go.

Brahms groans, “can I touch?” He basically whimpered.

You shake your head. "Not right now, baby," you crawled back onto his lap. "But I'm gonna make you feel so good, I promise," you tugged up the end of his sweater. Brahms groans, and he throws a small tantrum, hand clenched at his side but his feet kick out, almost knocking you off balance.

You sat straight up, eyes narrowing at him. "Do you not want me to take care of you?" You leaned over, resting your hands on his chest, holding yourself up while you stared down at him. Brahms looks affronted, shaking his head no, “no— no! I’m sorry! I am!”

You looked at him skeptically. "I told you I'd leave you here if you tried to touch me again," you reminded him.

You watch as his eyes close, knowing he’s in mental peril at the moment.

"I'm sorry, mommy. I really am," he pouted, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

“Oh really?” Your trailed your fingers down his chest. He nodded his head eagerly. "Please give me another chance."

Hm. “Alright.” You move your hips against his. “One more chance.”

He sighed in relief, closing his eyes as you grab his dick once again. You lifted your hips, lining him up to your entrance. You sat down on his cock all at once, not giving him or yourself a minute to breathe.

He let out a low groan at the feeling of you, warm and wet, wrapped around him. His fingers twitched, wanting to grab you by the hips, but he resisted, not wanting you to be disappointed in him and leave him there.

You reach for his hands, his eyes visibly brighten, thinking you were about to let him touch you, except you grab both his hands bringing them up and above his head.

You held them there as you bounced on his cock. His moans grew louder. You've always loved how vocal he was.

"You feel so good, Brahms," you told him, sighing as the tip of his dick brushed against your cervix.

“Tell me I’m good?” He pouts, eyes glassy.

You grinned at him. "You're so good baby, so good," you sped your hips up.

He moans, hands clenched above his head. "God, your dick feels so fucking good," you threw you head back in pleasure. Brahms hips stutter, thrusting up to meet your own hips.

"I'm gonna cum, mommy!" He gasped as the pleasure built up in his stomach. You released his hands above his head.

His hands immediately move to your hips, gripping you like a hawk. “Fuck!” He seethed, breath shuddering as your hands find their way to his hair.

His grip he had on you was brutal as he slammed you down on his cock hard. You grip his hair, pulling on it hard enough for him to throw his head back in pleasure.

Your moans were borderline pornographic as his dick brushed over your g-spot. Your legs were shaking and tears filled your eyes.

He felt so fucking good.

You groaned, bringing your own hand to rub at your clit, slapping away Brahms’ hand when he tried to replace it.

"Please mommy, I wanna do it," he whined, his eyebrows furrowed with pleasure and desperation.

“No, baby.” You shook your head, “you disobeyed earlier, remember?” He threw his head back against the pillows, arching his back. Your hand doesn’t stop, and neither do Brahms hips.

Your hips lose your rhythm, as Brahms' thrusts gets sloppy.

"I'm gonna cum," you rub your clit faster, pushing your hips down on his harder.

"Brahms-" You moan out his name, you squeeze your eyes shut as intense waves of pleasure crashes through your body. Brahms whines, hips thrusting up into you to help ride out your orgasm.

The feeling of you clenching around his dick makes him see stars, his nails digging into your soft skin.

“So good for me.” You whisper into his ear. You collapsed on top of him, your sweaty bodies sticking together, but you didn't care.

You laid there trying to catch your breath and come down from your high, his cock still buried deep inside of you. Except, Brahms didn’t stop thrusting, he only did so after you pulled off of him. He hadn’t come yet.

"Y/N-" he started, looking absolutely betrayed. You snort at him, slithering down his body until you were face to face with his cock.

"I didn't forget about you baby," you looked up at him before taking his dick in your hands, it soaked with your juices. You lick a stripe up his cock, all the way up to the top and taking the tip in your mouth entirely.

He thrusted his hips up, sending his length down your throat. You moaned at the taste, hollowing your cheeks and using your hands to take care of what your mouth couldn't reach. Brahms wasn’t going to last long. He cried out when your teeth graze his cock just a bit, making you mentally smirk and speed your hands up, needing to push him over the edge.

You moaned, the vibrations going straight to his cock and finally pushing him over the edge.

Brahms was writhing and whining, he sounded godly.

You felt his cum shoot to the back of your throat and you swallowed every last bit, his hand resting in your hair as you sucked him through his orgasm.

“Fuck,” Brahms whined.

You pulled yourself off his dick with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Good?” You rub his thigh. He takes a second to reply to you, taking deep breaths.

He nods his head, finally. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving.

"Was it okay?" You asked him as you crawled up the bed to lay beside him. He immediately rolled on his side to curl into you. Brahms breath was finally back to normal, “so good.” He breathes out.

[xslashers]

Vincent Sinclair | On the Desk

Vincent Sinclair X Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, cursing, Bo walks in but doesn’t suspect anything, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3,191 —

It was quiet in the basement as Vincent marked away at the paper in front of him, except for the sound of the boilers, of course. It was just background noise for him, though. He was bored, honestly, wishing for victims to stroll through town, or anything, really.

The thought of going upstairs and watching some TV crossed his mind, and then he thought of going for a drive, or maybe even taking a walk with Jonesy, but none of them really seemed to pique his interest.

So he just kept sitting there on the hard chair, drawing away.

"Hi Vince," you greeted him, peering around his shoulder with a bright smile on your face. You always greeted him with a smile, always ecstatic to see him. His heart leaped at the sound of your voice.

You.

Of course you were there. You've been there for nearly a year. He didn't even think about you, as cruel as it sounds, but he wanted too. He wanted to watch TV with you, and go on drives, and walk Jonesy with you by his side.

But he didn't want to bother you.

"Watcha workin' on?" You asked softly, hands behind your back in an innocent manner.

He thought it was odd that you were down here with him and not at the station with Bo, or out riding the roads with Lester. But nonetheless, he greatly appreciated your company, even if he had a hard time showing it.

He shrugged his shoulders in response, not really knowing the answer himself. Right now, the drawing was just a bunch of lines. But this was always how his drawings started and they always ended up beautifully.

"Do you mind if I sit down here with you?" You asked, your features looked so soft in the dim lighting. He shook his head, and you beamed, pulling a nearby chair to the desk.

Vincent tensed at how close you'd gotten, knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder. You didn't notice, though.

"I've always wanted to be able draw," you started, looking up at the random drawings Vincent had plastered above his desk. "Tried it once and it didn't stick. My mom, though, she had some serious talent," you smiled at the memories of watching your mother paint and draw.

"She was good, but you're insane talented," you continued, your eyes landed on a drawing of a portrait of someone you didn't recognize. Vincent listened intently as you talked, his face heating up at the compliments you gave him.

"I'm not bothering you, am I?" You questioned, noticing that he hadn't continued drawing. You were ready to leave if he said yes, but he immediately shook his head. You were absolutely not bothering him, not in the slightest.

You relaxed back in your chair.

"Let me know if I am, though," you said, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to get comfortable in the metal chair.

"You're really good company, Vince. Bo's always hittin' on me and Lester's never here," you continued to ramble.

"Not that you're like a third option," you backtracked, realizing that it sounded a little condescending. You mentally cursed yourself. "I just mean that I know you like your privacy, and we don't really hang around each other, and I just got enough courage to come talk to you," you cringed at yourself.

Vincent only stared at you, not sure how to respond to any of this.

"I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone," you told him, pushing yourself out of the chair and standing up, only to be stopped by his warm, slender fingers wrapping around your wrist. You froze at the sudden contact.

'Stay,' he signed, taking you by surprise. You slowly sat back down, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. He relished the feeling of your soft skin against his.

If he felt this way just by holding your arm, imagine what he would feel with you cuddled up next to him, or sitting in his lap.

His hand lingered, not wanting to leave you.

And you noticed.

His grip was soft and gentle, as if he was holding a delicate piece of art work. And to him, that's exactly what you were.

You slowly began to slip your arm out of his grasp, much to his dismay, only to stop when your hand was enveloped in his. Taking it a step further, you flipped your hand over, before entwining your fingers in between his. The hand size difference made your heart flutter.

His fingers remained outstretched for a moment, and you were afraid that you'd cross a line, but he wrapped his fingers around yours, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckle.

It was crazy to you, how he could go from chopping a person's head off and covering them in hot wax one second, to coddling you the next. But nonetheless, you found yourself absent mindedly leaning into his shoulder.

You sighed.

This has been the first physical contact you'd had with another live human in a couple months. You closed your eyes, taking in the heat that radiated off of him.

Jonesy was one hell of a cuddler, but cuddling with Vincent? Wrapped up in his arms with your head laying in his chest? You'd give anything to have that and you barley even knew him.

The two of you sat there in a surprisingly, comfortable silence, holding hands and leaning on each other. You couldn't tell, but there was a small grin on Vincent's lips. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.

"Bo would never let me hold his hand," you mumbled, looking down to where your entwined hands were resting on your leg. "You have nice hands," you continued, using your free fingers to trace over the veins and scars that littered Vincent's skin.

'You sure do talk a lot,' Vincent thought to himself, finding it adorable. You've been rambling on about everything and anything since you got down here. And he listened to every bit of it, your voice soothing him.

You let out a frustrated sigh. "We gotta get you some of those comfy cushioned chairs. These metal ones can't be good for your back," you complained, trying to get comfortable on the hard surface, but it seemed impossible.

Vincent watched you. He knew the chairs weren't comfortable.

So, he did what any gentleman would do, and he picked you up by the hips, earning a surprised noise from you, before sitting you down on his lap. Which admittedly, was a hundred times more comfortable than the stupid chair.

Your face immediately heated up at this, not expecting it at all. You came down here for some friendly conversation, but here you are sitting in his lap, your legs on either side of his. The sudden proximity made your heart speed up.

"You didn't have to do that," you whispered, looking up at him. He shook his head, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. Your heart melted at the gesture, pushing your arms on the inside of his sweater and wrapping your arms around his torso, leaning into his chest.

"You're really warm," you sighed in content, breathing his scent in. One of Vincent's arms snaked around your waist, trying to pull you closer, while the other one rested on your hip, keeping you in place.

Man, if he didn't know any better, he'd think he was falling in love with you. That couldn't be possible, though, right? This was the first time the two of you were in a room together for more than two minutes. Yet here you are, cuddled up on his lap, and you were more than happy with doing so.

"I'm sorry if I'm talking a lot," you muttered into his chest, "just a bad habit I got," you laughed out, looking up at him.

The sudden urge to kiss you filled him. You were right there, so close. All he had to do was barley lean in and your lips would meet.

But he restrained himself. But fuck, it was tempting. You lips were so soft and plump, he wanted to know what they would feel like against his own.

He wanted to know what they would look like wrapped around his dick.

Vincent's eye darkened at the thought, unbeknownst to you. You were too busy basking in his warmth and scent to realize that his entire demeanor had changed completely.

It wasn't until you felt his grip on your hip tighten to the point where you knew it'd leave bruises, you looked back up at him.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked, a small frown on your lips. Vincent shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted you to do. He wanted you to sit right here.

His hand moved up, slipping under your shirt and to the bottom of your rib cage. And you let him.

Not having any human contact for nearly three months was one thing. But not having any sexual contact for nearly a year was something completely different. There was Bo, who you know would've been more than happy to help, but you had more self respect for yourself, and Lester, who you only saw as a brother figure.

You leaned into Vincent's touch when his hand cupped your breast. Your breath hitched in your throat, heat pooling in between your legs.

"Touch me, Vince," you begged him, an innocent tone in your voice. And he did just that. His hand slipped in between the two of you, wasting no time in slipping up your skirt and pulling your underwear to the side.

He ran his index finger up your slit, smirking to himself at how wet you were, just for him. Bringing his finger up to your clit, he circled it gently, and he wasn't prepared for the noise you let out at this. It was soft and subtle, but it went straight to his dick.

He wondered what other noises you could make.

He slipped two fingers in your hole, before immediately curling them upwards, searching for your g-spot.

You moaned at the feeling of his thick fingers stretching you out, searching for that delicious, spongy spot that made you see stars.

For a second, you thought about letting him make you cum right then and there. But you willed yourself to make him stop.

"Wait, wait," you grabbed ahold of his wrist, stopping his motions, the knot in your stomach that was only seconds away from snapping disappeared. "I wanna cum on your dick," such dirty words coming from such a pretty mouth.

"Please?" You sounded so needy. You took a deep breath as Vince slipped his fingers out of you, frowning at the emptiness.

He gently pushed you off his lap, before you leaned against his desk, your legs slightly shaking. The wet spot you'd left on his pants didn't go unnoticed as he unzipped them and pulled them down, along with his boxers, just enough to slip his dick out.

And goddamnit, you were drooling at the sight of it. He was so hard, with pre cum dripping from the tip. Before Vince could process what you were doing, you were on your knees in front of him, your hand wrapping around his length. You licked your lips.

'He wanted to know what they would look like wrapped around his dick.'

The thought from earlier surfaced his mind again, and he was giddy at the fact that he was about to see it.

Your pretty little mouth wrapped around his massive cock.

When your lips made contact with the his pink tip, he had to restrain himself from grabbing the back of your head and skull fucking you. But Vincent Sinclair was a man of class, and no matter how much he wanted too, he would never make you do something you weren't comfortable with.

You licked down his shaft, paying extra attention to the prominent vein on the underside.

Vincent let out a low groan, taking you by surprise. The only sounds you've ever heard him make were him breathing through his mask. But hearing his noises from you sucking his cock was something you had no idea you needed until now.

You wanted to hear more.

You took as much of him in your mouth as you could, the feeling causing Vincent's head to fall back, his hand clamping over his mouth to keep from being too loud. At this, you immediately pulled off his dick, much to his dismay, reaching for his hand.

"I wanna hear you," you looked up at him innocently, tugging his hand down. He gripped yours in his as you held them down to his thigh, making sure he wouldn't try and cover his mouth again, his other hand gripping your shoulder.

You leaned back down, taking him in your mouth as far as you could, using your free hand to jerk off the remaining of his length. You bobbed your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks.

Vincent groaned in pleasure, his hand moving to tangle his fingers in your hair. He gripped your hair like a lifeline, and with the way you were bobbing on his cock, he needed it.

You were taking him so good. The warmth of your mouth, along with the pace you were going at made the pressure in his tummy build up.

He knew he wouldn't last much longer.

Suddenly, you were pulled off. Your sound of disappointment was almost enough for Vince to let you continue, but he pulls you up and into his lap.

Then you realize what he wants, making you absolutely melt against him. "Yeah?" you ask, carding your fingers through his soft tresses. Vincent nodded, moving his hands to grip your own.

"Are you sure this is okay?" You questioned once more, your dripping entrance only centimeters from his throbbing cock. You still had an innocent tone to your voice, as if you weren't on your knees sucking his cock only a few seconds ago.

Yes, he was okay with it. He was more than okay with it.

He looked up at you, his eye clouded with lust. His hands wrapped around your hips, pushing you down onto his awaiting cock. He slipped into you with ease, your tight hole stretching out to accommodate him.

"Oh fuck," you gasped out, his fingers were nothing compared to his girth. You've never felt this full before, his dick hitting spots that you didn't even know existed. "You feel so good," he hadn't even started fucking you properly yet, but here you were, moaning at the feeling of him just being inside you.

"Hm, good to see you two are finally getting to know each other," you felt your soul leave your body as you heard Bo's voice coming from the bottom on the stairs. Your head shot up from Vincent's shoulder, eyes wide.

You were sitting pretty on Vincent's cock and of course, Bo walks in. Just your luck.

Vincent quickly pulled your skirt down over where your bodies met, hiding the sinful act from his older brother. You pushed your head into Vincent's collarbone, hiding your embarrassment.

The sound of Bo's boots echoed off the wall as he walked over to the desk, where the two of you were.

"How come y'never cuddle up t'me like that, doll?" Bo asked teasingly. You shrugged your shoulders, not even daring to look up at him.

If Vincent's dick wasn't buried in your pussy right now, perhaps you would've told Bo off. But right now, you didn't trust your own voice.

Bo rolled his eyes at your seemingly stubbornness. "Anyway, I need a flat-head," Bo told Vincent, shifting his weight from one leg to another.

A screwdriver.

He needed a fucking screwdriver.

He's a fucking mechanic and he doesn't have a flathead screwdriver?

Vincent leaned up, desperately wanting to get back to fucking you as he grabbed the tool from a repurposed pencil cup, the sudden movement making you choke back a moan.

"You alright, Y/N?" Bo asked, as you covered it up with a cough. You nodded your head vigorously, shooting him a quick, shaky thumbs up. "Alright then," Bo took the screwdriver from Vincent's hand, who unbeknownst was having just as much trouble as you were.

He had half the mind to sling your body over the desk an drill you right there, not giving a fuck if his brother could see.

Bo wasn't dumb, but you were surprised that he didn't suspect anything. Without saying anything else, he turned and walked away, trekking back up the candle-lit stairs. You watched his shadow until you couldn't see it anymore, and you didn't move until you heard the basement door slam shut.

Letting out a shaky sigh, you looked up at Vincent, nodding your head, and he wasted no time. He thrusted up into you sharply, catching you off guard. Your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, another moan slipping from your throat.

"We almost got caught fucking," you let out a deep breath, "by your brother." You stated the obvious. Vincent made a noise of acknowledgment, thrusting up into you again and again. Your body jerked up with each one, Vincent taking notice to the way your breast bounced in front of him.

Without slowing down, he pulled your shirt up over your head, your arms flying up so he could take it off all the way.

Fuck, what a sight.

His fingers brushed over your nipple, instantly hardening at the contact. A chill went down your spine as he pinched the bud in between his fingers.

Between that and the the tip of his dick bruising your cervix with every thrust, the knot in your stomach returned again, only stronger this time.

"Vincent," you moaned out his name, "I'm gonna cum!" Hearing you moan his name only egged him to go harder and faster.

Vince grunted, using his one handed grip on your hip to drag you back into his thrusts even harder. You looked like a mess, though to Vincent you looked like a work of art, and watching your thighs shake as he pounded into you was almost too much for him. He slid one hand down your body, straight to your clit.

You gasp, "fuck!" He immediately started rubbing small circles into your sex, knowing that was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. Your head hit his shoulder, your body shaking as you tipped over the edge. Vince rubbed your back soothingly, thrusts never stopping.

You could cry, he was fucking you right into overstimulation. "Cum inside me?" Your voice was so small, and very quiet. He would've missed it if he wasn't playing so close attention to you.

Vincent's hips stutter, his pace ruined as he loses all composure and just slams into you with everything he's got, your sounds now only spurring him on.

Vincent groaned as he came, pulling you back onto his cock repeatedly. "So good," you whispered, head still hidden from sight on his chest.

[xslashers]

Masterlist!

Started: January 24, 2022

Last Updated: April 20, 2022

—

SLASHERS:

Bo Sinclair:

Too Close For Comfort 

Hold Me

Random Bo Sinclair Headcanons

Bo With a S/O Who Hates Yelling

Savin’ Lester’s Ass

Bo Sinclair/Reader Getting Their Cheeks Clapped

Fuck Church 

Bed Time 

Too Much

The Bet

Jealousy

Vincent Sinclair:

Trust Issues 

NSFW Alphabet (female reader)

Needy

Bo Sinclair/Reader Getting Their Cheeks Clapped

On the Desk

Lester Sinclair:

Pet Names 

Bo Sinclair/Reader Getting Their Cheeks Clapped

Michael Myers:

Morally Gray 

Billy Loomis:

All These Years 

You Offered

Stu Macher:

All These Years

You Offered 

Brahms Heelshire: 

I’ll Be Good

[xslashers]

Bo Sinclair | Bed Time

Bo Sinclair X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: soft Bo, he deserves his own warning

Word Count: 704

—

Bo had himself on a tight schedule. He went to bed at roughly eleven at night, woke up at eight in the morning, got ready for work, had breakfast, had lunch at noon, came home from work at three, and had dinner at five. Bo loved to have a routine set, it made him feel organized.

You, however, did not have a routine, and you couldn't care less about having one. Your face was smashed into your pillow, snoring away, when he got up to have a quick shower that morning. And when he came out, you hadn’t moved an inch.

Bo had wondered when you had went to sleep that night. It wasn't uncommon for you to stay up 'til the ass crack of dawn and sleep until he got home that evening. Honestly, he got on to you about it so much, yet you never seem to listen. He rolled his eyes, making his way down to the kitchen for some coffee.

He loved you, though. He truly did. Maybe it hurt a little that he was asleep when you were awake and you were sleeping when he was awake. You two didn't get to spend a lot of time together and he hated this.

He thought about calling up Lester and telling him to grab some melatonin gummies from town, maybe that might help. ‘Hm, that might work.’ He thought, tilting his head, he will definitely be doing that later.

He sat in silence as he sipped on his coffee, wishing that you were up to join him and keep him company.

If you were up, it would definitely be louder in here. He sighed, missing the sound of your voice just rambling on. The longer he sat there, the more it got to him.

He missed you.

Before he could change his mind, he sat his coffee mug in the sink, before turning to walk to your shared bedroom. He knew you'd be too tired to be awake right now, but maybe he could take the day off and just lay with you? Surely one day off work wouldn't matter.

He made his way back upstairs, mentally preparing himself to see you all peaceful once more.

But when he opened the door, he wasn't ready for the sight before him.

You had finally moved from your spot, now sleeping peacefully on your side, your arms securely wrapped around Bo's pillow, your body was curled around it.

His heart throbbed, he had to look away and catch his breath. Tears were on the brink of his eyes before he closed them tightly, willing them away.

He wanted to be wrapped up in your arms like that. He wanted that more than anything, right now.

He, as quietly as he could, slipped out of his work boots and unzipped his coveralls, leaving him in a tee shirt and boxers. He gently tried pulling the pillow away, making you grumble, holding it tighter to your chest. He frowned.

"C'mon, doll," he mumbled under his breath, before shaking your shoulder in attempt to get you to release your death grip on his pillow.

“Stop.” You muttered, squeezing his pillow even tighter. He let out a sigh, sitting down the on the edge beside of you.

"Baby," he said a little louder, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. "I need my pillow," he continued.

You ruffled, sitting up, “what?”

"I need my pillow," he stated again, smiling at how grumpy you looked. You glanced over at the alarm clock on the night stand.

"Don't you have to be at work?" You asked, rubbing your eyes.

“Not today, baby.” He said, bringing his hands up to pet your head, making you lean into him. He smiled, kissing your forehead. “Wanna lay with you.” He whispers, “just rest today.” Bo continued.

Still half asleep, you grabbed his arm and pulled him down next to you in a comfortable sleeping position, securely wrapping your arms around him like you had done with the pillow only a few minutes earlier, before resting your head on his chest. His steady heart beat lulling you back to sleep.

Bo’s heart aches, he loves you so so dearly.

[xslashers]

Bo Sinclair/Reader Getting Their Cheeks Clapped

Sinclairs X GN!Reader (Separate)

Warnings: cursing, sexual themes, fluff/crack

Word Count: 1,173

—

Lester:

Lester was an ass man, it was very known in your relationship, always a hand or two on your ass any chance he gets. And I mean, ANY chance he got. It didn't matter what you were wearing, didn't matter who was around, didn't matter what day it was. If he felt the need to give your ass a little smack, he was fucking going to.

That’s why, you were prepared. You’d become so vigilant and aware of Lester and your surroundings, that you just know when one is coming.

But what you didn't expect, was for him to smack your soul out of your body and into the depths of hell.

“Jesus, god! That one was the worst one yet!” You turned around, grabbing Lester’s shirt in both of your hands. There were tears in your eyes, you could feel em'.

For a split second, you could see guilt in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something else. "Oh c'mon now. I ain't hit ya that hard," his hands snaked around your body.

You glared at him, your hands making their way to the hair at the back of his head, narrowing your eyes at him. “Liar.”

"Tell that to the red, burning hand mark on my left ass cheek, Lester," you continued, pouting up at him.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” He fake pouted at you, pulling you in for a kiss. One hand making its way back down to your ass cheek.

"Sorry, my ass," you pulled away from him.

"You pulled away from my kiss!" He gasped, throwing a hand over his chest in offense. "You concaved my fuckin' rectum!" You gave him a pointed look.

“I said, sorry!” He was really pouting now. You hated it when he pouted for real. It pulled at your heart strings.

You let out a sigh, stepping towards him. You grabbed his face, pulling him down to kiss you, “say you’re sorry again,” you look up at him all innocent. “I may forgive and forget.”

"But I tell you what," you started, "if you ever smack me that hard again, I'll come for your fuckin' knee caps."

Lester smiled at you, all pretty. “Of course baby, I am so, so, sorry.” He pushed you forward with the hand on your ass, now chest to chest with him.

You leaned up, pressing your lips against his own.

He smiled against your lips, forcing your mouth open with his tongue, exploring your mouth, although he definitely knows every inch of it by now.

As the kiss deepened, the pain you felt only a few seconds earlier seemed to melt away. Your hand was back in his hair, carding through the short strands, pulling on what you could to make any noise he could muster fall out of his pretty mouth.

He slightly squeezed your ass in his hand, making you moan at the feeling.

He grunted, pulling you to him again, as close as possible. “Apology, accepted.” You whispered against Lester’s lips, making him chuckle.

Bo:

You and Bo had been dating for a decently long time now, long enough for you to have established dominance in the bedroom after all these years. Now that, was a feat.

Bo is your pride and joy, your sunshine, the love of your life, and he has the nicest ass in Ambrose. The juiciest, plumpest, most delicious looking ass you have ever laid your wandering eyes upon.

You’d never been with someone like Bo before, and you don’t plan on ever having anyone else.

Today was a pretty normal, for Ambrose, day. No tourists, just you an the Sinclairs. Bo was still out and about though, down at the gas station.

Always working.

You quickly made up a lunch for him, getting it together and putting it in a bag for him. Considering he wouldn’t be home in a few hours and he hadn’t bothered making himself anything, you’d figured you might as well lend a hand. And oh boy, will you.

You made your way down to the station, walking in a bit loud, makin’ your presence known.

“Hey, baby.” You started, “brought ya lunch.”

You walked through to where he was bent over a car, ass out, not even getting up to turn to look at you. Your eyes widened, your change out in the open. Winding back your hand far enough to get a good amount of space between your hand and his ass, you let it fly.

The smack was so loud, you could’ve sworn you heard it in Vincent’s basement. Bo’s head hit the hood of the car, yelping in pain.

“The hell!?” Bo yelled, turning around to face you now, face red as a tomato.

“I saw my chance.” You smiled innocently, watching as he rubbed his ass cheek, “that shit hurt,” he kind of pouted.

You cackled, arms making way around his waist to pull him in for a kiss. “So sorry, baby.” You whispered against his lips.

“Mhm.” He griped, eyes not leaving yours. “Bet you are.” He narrowed his eyes at you, pushing you away gently.

He turned away from you once more, before immediately turning back around, watching your every move.

“‘M not gonna.” You pouted this time, reaching for his waist again. He slid out of your way, “uh uh, don’t think so, pal.”

“Scouts honor!”

“You we’re never a scout, fuckin’ liar.” He glared at you, “stay away from my ass.”

“You love when I’m near your ass.” You scoffed, leaning on the car in front of you, holding your chin in your hand.

“Not tonight, I don’t.” He was still glaring, he walked over to his stool to sit down.

You watched as he made his way over and sat down, but just as he sat down he flinched, immediately standing back up.

You full on cackled, “this is gold.”

“You, shut the fuck up.” He growled, grabbing the bag of food out of your hands, planning on eating it while standing up.

You stood at his back, rubbing his ass where you’d hit, “I’m sorry, baby.” You kissed the side of his head, not sorry at all.

Vincent:

Its not that Vincent wasn't an affectionate person. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He just had a hard way of showing it sometimes. You took what you got, though, and didn't complain one bit.

You were cleaning up the house, it being a little messy from last night's fiasco.

Bo had nearly got himself killed by a couple of teenagers and bled all over the place, much to your dismay. He was fine, though. He was up and moving this morning, insisting that he went back to work at the station. There wasn't anything you, Lester, or Vincent could've said or done to change his mind, either.

So you wiped down all the surfaces that had blood spattered on them, mopped the puddle next to the kitchen sink, and even got down on your hands and knees to scrub the difficult spots.

You were always the one that cleaned up after the boys. If you didn't, no one would, and you simply refused to live in a dirty house.

You were bent over, drying the floor the best you could do you, or the boys, didn't slip. You were almost done, then you could finally go sit in the basement with Vincent. You loved watching him work. The way his hands moved as he sculpted the wax always fascinated you.

You hadn't heard anyone behind you, so that's why you let out a hellbent screech when someone's hand came in contact with your ass. And it contacted hard.

So hard, that the force knocked your body forward, and you would've face planted if it wasn't for you grabbing onto the top of the counter to catch your balance.

You stood straight up, preparing yourself to come face to face with Bo, ready to chew him out about keeping his grimy little hands to himself. But instead, you were met with your boyfriend, Vincent, who was just standing there.

"Vince?" You questioned, your eyes were wide as your hand come down to gently rub the place where he had just obliterated. Vincent was the last person in the house you'd expect to cope a feel from you. But by god, there he was.

"Why'd you do it so hard?" You didn't know if you should laugh or cry in this situation. Of course, you didn't mind the suggestive touchiness, but why did he have to put his entire bicep into that smack?

'Did I hurt you?' He signed, his head slightly tilting to the side. You continued to rub your ass, trying to make the sting go away. "I mean," you trailed off, "you could've done it a little gentler."

'I'm sorry,' he immediately stepped towards you, wrapping you in a hug. You couldn't be mad at him.

"It's okay, Vince," you wrapped your arms around his torso, burying your head in his chest, taking in his scent.

You stood there, a solid ten seconds, before you felt his cold hand sneak up your loose fitted shorts, his hand cupping your ass cheek, carefully massaging the hot skin. The coldness from his hand almost immediately soothing the pain.

You sighed at this. This type of attention from Vincent wasn't typical of him, only getting it when you two were in the bedroom. It was rare, but you loved it.

You tilted your head up, pressing a kiss on his collarbone, sending a chill down his spine as his fingers gently massaged your ass, the pain almost completely gone.

"I love you," you told him, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his mask. You went to pull away, to dispose of the dirty, bloody water, but Vincent wasn't letting up. His grip tightened around you. You looked back up at him with a questioning look.

His other hand, the one that wasn't on your ass, flew in between the two of you, pulling his mask up to rest on the top of his head. You knew what he wanted. You smiled, hands gently cupping either side of his face, making sure to be extra gentle on his right side.

Leaning up on your tiptoes, your lips connected with his, his hand still proudly on your ass.

[xslashers]

Lester Sinclair | Pet Names

Lester Sinclair X Reader (Gender Nuetral)

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 328

—

You didn't know it, but Lester absolutely loved it when you called him pet names. He was so used to you callin’ him baby, babe, sweetheart, sweetie, so many pet names, it just didn’t feel right when you called him anything else.

He couldn't even remember the last time you'd called him by his first name.

Which is why it took him by surprise when you called to him for dinner, except, you’d called him by name.

He emerged from the living room, eyebrows furrowed as he tip-toed to the kitchen. He hoped you weren’t mad at him, he hadn’t done anything to upset you that he knew of.

He finally saw you, back turned to him as you plated your food, his already resting on the table. He made his way over, the sound of him pulling his chair out made you turn to look at him.

“Here ya go, baby.” You sat down his drink, beside his plate. He felt a little better at this, the return of his favorite pet name. But he still felt as if he did something wrong.

"Did I do something to make you mad?" His voice was small as he looked up at you, looking like a puppy who'd just been kicked.

“What?” You frowned. “What are you on about?” You immediately became concerned, pulling out the seat beside of him and gently grabbing his hand in your own.

“You called me Lester?” He squeezed your hand, “you gotta tell me what I did wrong, I’ll make it better I swear.”

Your heart strings pulled at this. "You didn't do anything wrong, baby," you assured him.

“Are you sure?” He asked, bringing your hands up to his face so he could kiss them gently. "Of course, I'm sure," you nodded your head, smiling at his soft lips against your knuckles.

You stood up, grabbing your own plate to sit next to his so you could eat side by side.

[xslashers]

Bo Sinclair | Savin’ Lester’s Ass

Bo Sinclair X Fem!Reader

Warnings: reader murders people, reader gets stabbed but takes it like a champ, reader has boobs, cursing, mentions of blood, sexual undertones (doesn't go into detail)

Word Count: 1,573

—

Everything had been perfectly under control. Nothing was wrong, nothing at all whatsoever. Except for the fact that there was actively blood pooling out of the stab wound in your abdomen.

Okay, admittedly maybe there was something wrong. After taking two victims on your own, you were feeling proud of yourself. Each one of you got two each, eight of em’ all together. So after you did your part, you began walking back to the house. Hoping that the others took care of their guys, you were unpleasantly surprised.

Coming out of the shadows, you were completely blind sided when one of the victims plunged a knife through your torso. Not the best feeling in the world, in fact you’d felt better ones, luckily for you, not so for the innocent person, your first instinct after getting stabbed is to snap your attackers neck as quickly and as roughly as possible.

After the initial shock wore off, you were left in agonizing pain and it certainly didn’t help that you were bleeding everywhere.

Getting back to the house before Bo did, was now your first priority. Maybe you could stitch yourself up? He’d never find out.

That was your thought process, before Lester found you, or well, before you found him.

“Christ (Y/N), what happened?” Lester asked, running to help you stand.

You glared at him, “Hm.. take a guess, big guy.” Smiling sarcastically.

Lester gently pried your blood covered hand away from your stomach, visibly cringing as he saw how bad it was. “Bo’s gonna ring my fuckin’ neck.” He basically whimpered.

You stared at him, deadpan. “Huh?”

He looked down at you sympathetically, “one of ‘em got away from me,” he admitted, guilt immediately taking over.

“Well, they’re dead now.” You assured him, patting his shoulder, hopefully comfortingly.

“Dead or not, they stabbed you and I let ‘em get away.” Lester began helping you up the hill to the house.

You huffed, “Bo’s gonna kill me, for gettin’ fuckin’ stabbed in the first place!”

Now you and Lester were both panicking, “Look, if we can get me stitched up before Bo gets back, he’ll never even know!” You exclaimed, tripping on a rock, only to be held up by Lester.

“Yer’ kiddin’, right?” He looked at you incredulously, “Bo’s not an idiot.”

You huffed again, “well then what do you propose we do, genius?” Lester was quiet.

“Maybe I can sneak ‘n get Vinny?” He pondered out loud.

“What is Vince going to do?” You asked, letting out a sigh of relief when the two of you finally reach the steps to the house.

“Stitch ya up!?” He basically yelled, “do you even know what yer supposed to do?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “My mom taught me to sew? How different could it be?” Lester pushed the front door open, you tumbled in after him. You make your way to the couch, flopping down unceremoniously.

“Honestly, it’s very different.” Lester stressed. “Yeah yeah, whatever, go get a needle.” You told him, rolling up your shirt to see what you were working with. Lester was panicking, but he fetched you the first aid anyway.

“The fuck is taking so long?” You yelled through the house, Lester has only been gone for 30 seconds. Bo Sinclair was really rubbing off on you, as bad as that was.

Lester finally returned with the needed supplies, sitting down beside you on the couch. You start to take off your shirt, though the youngest Sinclair was quick enough to grab your hand, stopping you.

“The fuck are you doin’ Lester, it’s just boobs,” you scoffed. Continuing to remove your shirt and place it on the wound until you got ready.

“Bo’s gonna kill me.” Lester whimpered again, pathetically.

“He’s already going to kill you,” you whispered, lookin’ up at him.

He squeaked.

“I’m kidding,” you gave a weak smirk. “I won’t let him kill you, as long as you help me.”

Lester sighed, leaning down on one knee to try and help. “Now (Y/N), this ain’t gonna feel good,” he told you, looking up at you. “Damn, what a shame.” You deadpan once more.

“Can’t be worse than getting stabbed,” you threw your head back against the couch, bracing yourself.

The door slammed open, two pair of heavy boots walked in. ‘Fuck,’ you mentally cursed, knowing you were too late and Bo was going to find out, resulting in your imminent death.

“What the hell is goin’ on here!?”

Bo’s voice echoed off the walls. From his perspective, it didn’t really look like Lester was trying to stitch you up. His twin looked over his shoulder to see the sight, quickly zeroing in on the blood, he made his way over to you guys.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bo asked, watching as his brother joined Lester on the floor in front of you.

“Bad news,” you rasped, “I’ve been stabbed.” Honesty, you were getting tired of saying it.

You weakly lifted your head from the back of the couch to give him a strained smile. Finally realizing what you said, he rushed over. Seeing that Vincent and Lester were trying to stitch you up and not doing something else, he felt a little stupid, but he wouldn’t admit it.

You grabbed his hand, gripping it with all your, limited, strength. “What happened?” Bo asked softly, seeing how bad of shape you’re in, now that he’s up close.

“Nothin’ much, honest.” You grimaced, in an ill attempt to save yours and Lester’s ass. Bo’s eyes narrowed at this, making you nervous. You smiled up at him, it looked quite strained.

“I’m gonna ask you again, darlin’,” his voice dropped a few octaves, but it was still soft.

“Ask all you want, what if I forced myself to pass out so I don’t have to answer your questions?”

“Why won’t you tell me?” He asked, a small frown on his lips. “Cause I don’t feel like gettin’ yelled at,” you admitted. “If you yell at me right now, I will definitely cry.” You warned. “I don’t wanna cry.” You frown, rubbing your eyes tiredly, trying to ignore the pain.

“I wouldn’ yell at ya’.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning your head to stare at him, all while Vincent and Lester looked at him too, both with raised eyebrows.

“You are such a dirty liar, Bo Sinclair.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He let out a frustrated sigh, “Could you at leas’ tell me what happened? I promise not to yell.” He said.

“I was stabbed.” Lester snorted, “that’s it.” You finished. You could see Bo visibly getting upset with you. “We’ve established that part, (Y/N). By who? Who stabbed you?”

“Well I already killed them, so..” you trailed off.

“So you let some dumb victim get the best of you?” He asked, his voice slightly raising.

“Hey! You promised me you wouldn’t yell!” You glared at him, “I’m not talking anymore.” You let go of his hand, ignoring his offended sound, looking as mad as you could get when you’re in this much pain.

“I wasn’t yellin’, (Y/N), I-“ he let put a sigh, running his hand down his face. “I’m just worried about you.”

“Mhm.”

You weren’t looking at him now, head back to hanging off the couch again. “Who here heard, Bo Sinclair, promise me he wouldn’t yell at me?” You waited til both of the other Sinclair's in the room made some noise of indication. “Then proceed to yell at me.” They both nodded this time, Indulging you, Lester even making a noise in agreement. Bo glared at them.

“Thank you.”

Bo could feel his blood pressure rising at this. He loved you, he truly did. But fuck, you got under his skin sometimes. He truly was worried for you, though. You’d never had an injury quite this bad before, but it seemed like you were handling it okay.

“I’m dying.” You groaned out in pain as you felt the needle go through your skin yet again.

“These are my last few days on earth, I just know it.” You whined. “I’ll miss you guys.”

You lean up to glare at Bo, “some less than others.” Bo rolled his eyes.

“You’re being dramatic, doll.”

Bo threw his arm over the back of the couch, tangling his fingers in your hair. You groaned again, tears in your eyes. “You mad at me?”

Bo had a small smile on his face, “nah, i ain’t mad at ya,” he replied, “just wanna make sure you’re okay.” He continued, glancing down at Vincent as he was finishing up. “I know something that’ll make me feel better,” you smirked over at him, grabbing his hand in yours once again.

Lester coughed very loudly, “will you two please-”

Your head shot down to Lester, giving him a look of ‘I just lied our way out of getting murdered, shut up.’

Vincent narrowed his eye at this, jotting down a mental note to mention it to one of you later, both of you and Lester the worst liar of you four. “Anyway,” you turned your attention back to your boyfriend. Lester glared at you, shaking his head, but a smile was on his face.

Bo narrowed his eyes at you, “Can I have a kiss?” You asked, scooting your upper body closer to Bo’s, and puckering your lips. He snickered at you, but indulged you anyway.

[xslashers]

Bo Sinclair With a S/O Who Hates Yelling

Bo Sinclair X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: violence, cursing, angst, hurt/comfort, Bo being a dick, Bo being toxic, Bo being mentally abusive

Word Count; 1,055

—

Bo Sinclair yelled a lot. It was just simply in his nature. He yelled at his brothers, he yelled at Jonesy, he yelled when something went wrong with a victim, he was constantly yelling, and you hated it.

Perhaps he didn’t know of your particular dislike for yelling, but how could you tell him this? You always made sure to avoid him when he was yelling. What if he yelled at you? Well to put it in simple terms, you’d simply start sobbing. You couldn’t stand it when people yelled at you, or even raise their voice a few octaves in your direction.

Especially if it was Bo Sinclair, He really knows how to make his words hurt. So when you heard him slam the door, louder than usual, you made quick haste to get upstairs to your room.

You wished you could help him through whatever it was he was going through, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to if you were crying the whole time. So, you sat in your bedroom, cringing at each syllable Bo yelled.

He was cursing at everything he could, the toaster, Lester, who wasn’t even in Ambrose at this moment, Vincent, who was down in the basement, doing the exact same thing you were doing, hiding from Bo.

This went on for a few minutes. The sound of glass breaking echoed through the walls, But you sat there until he quietened all the way down.

Then, there was nothing. Almost abruptly, everything stopped.

It was eerily quiet.

You stood up and peaked your head out into the hallway, walking towards the stairs when you didn’t see him anywhere. Tiptoeing down the stairs, avoiding that one creaky step, knowing damn well it would alert Bo immediately that you made your way out of hiding.

You reached the kitchen, seeing him leaning back on the counter, taking a swig from his beer.

“Hey..” you trailed off. his eyes met yours, darkening almost immediately. He slammed his beer on the counter, surprising you that the glass didn’t shatter on impact.

You immediately took a step back, bringing your hands to your chest for comfort of some kind, and he took that, as an invitation.

He strides towards you and he looked pissed. Your eyes slightly widened and you backed up, your back flush against the wall.

“Now where the fuck have you been?” He emphasized the ‘you’ very cruelly.

You could already feel your lip starting to quiver, and your eyes starting to water. “I was upstairs,” you said in a small voice, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Oh really?” He pretended to ask, “Doin’ what? Avoidin’ me?” Yes that was exactly what you were doing, but you didn’t want to hurt his feelings, “No.” You shook your head vigorously. Bo swiftly placed his hand on the wall, next to your head, startling you. You know Bo could be scary, but right now he was terrifying.

“Are you sure ‘bout that, sweetheart?” You nodded again, before speaking once more. “You okay?” Your voice was quite soft, but you knew he would hear you, he was very close. You knew he wouldn’t physically hurt you, but mentally? You weren’t as sure.

He let out a cruel laugh, leaning back from you. “You’re askin’ me if I’m okay? I’m fuckin’ peachy, doll.” He said bitterly.

“What’s..” you trailed off before you look up, making direct eye contact with Bo, “what’s wrong?” You watched him as he turned around, retrieving his beer and taking another swig from it. Then he launched it across the room, hitting the wall and smashing into hundreds of little pieces.

“What’s wrong is that I’m the only one that does anything around here!”

You jumped about ten feet in the air, it felt like. “Fuck,” you hissed. Covering your face with your hands to protect yourself from the shards of glass.

“Fuck!” Bo yelled. He was completely turned away from you, maybe that was for the best. He hadn’t touched you and yet it looked like you’d been through the ringer. You whimpered, tears finally falling as the dam breaks. “U-Um..” your voice was wavering, heavily. “I-I’m,” you wipe your eyes, trying to mentally calm yourself. “Gonna go to the basement, with Vince.” You mentally applaud yourself for getting out the whole sentence.

Bo debated on letting you go, but after realizing what he did, he didn’t want to leave you upset. “(Y/N), wait,” his voice was much softer now.

You looked up at him, tears falling freely down your face. Bo felt like a massive asshole, and as he should. Any person that made you feel this way was an asshole. “I’m sorry for yellin’ at ya, you didn’t do anythin’ wrong.” Bo ran his hands through his hair. “It’s okay.” You replied quickly, wiping your tears still, chest heaving unevenly.

“No it’s not, I don’ like the way I jus acted towards you, you didn’t do anythin’ wrong ‘n you’re just tryna help, and here I am treatin’ you like shit.” You frowned at him, “it’s okay.” You sniffled, “I’m sorry as well.” You pull your shirt up to wipe your eyes, “I didn’t mean to upset you any further.” Your voice cracked once more.

Bo rushed towards you, embracing you in a warm hug, which you immediately reciprocated, burying your head into his chest. “I didn’ mean to make you cry darlin’, I’m so sorry.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

You nuzzle your face into his chest as far as you could possibly get. Basically wiping all of your tears and snot all over him, adequate punishment, you think. “Please don’t ever yell at me again, please.”

He pulled away from the hug, gently grabbing your face with his hands and tilting your head up to look at him, “I promise I won’t baby, I’m sorry.” He was genuinely apologizing to you, something he rarely did. You gave him a small smile before standing up on your tippy toes and pressing your lips to his.

[xslashers]

Vincent Sinclair | Needy

Vincent Sinclair X Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, tummy bulge, cursing, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 4,051

—

You weren't usually this needy, but honestly, its been a while. It wasn't that Vince didn't spend any free time with you, in fact all his free time was spent with you. But sometimes, Vince just wasn't in the mood for sexy times. But that didn't bother you at all, either. You respected his boundaries, just as much as he respected yours.

Today, however, you were just so needy. You could've taken care of it yourself, but you wanted Vince. He loved taking care of you, so it was a win-win situation.

You tip-toed into the basement, avoiding the creaky spots on the stairs. You knew he was down here. Luckily, there wasn't any dead bodies down here that he could be working on. So he was just sitting at his desk, drawing whatever came to mind.

You walked over to him, a coy smile on your face.

Your hand slyly made itself comfortable on his shoulder, not even bothering him. "Are you busy right now, baby?"  You asked him, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your head on his shoulder.

He only grunted in response. Luckily, you were fluent in Sinclair, which meant 'not really, but also kinda.'

"Could you help me with something?" You whispered in his ear, unknowingly sending shivers down his spine. He hummed, one of his hands coming up to rub at yours, his eye not leaving the unfinished drawing that laid in front of him.

You grinned, grabbing the back of his rolly chair and pulling it away from the desk, just enough to where you could get on his lap. Finally, he looked at you, watching as you made yourself comfortable. His large hands immediately flew to your hips.

Vincent was a very intelligent man, he knew exactly what you wanted.

He was, most definitely smirking behind his wax mask, you could tell that by his body language. The fact the you wanted him, not Bo or Lester,  sent him over the moon. "I tried to wait until you came up, but I got impatient," you admitted to him, raising your hands to his mask, but pausing to wait for his permission to remove it.

He nodded and you gently slipped it off of him, setting it on the desk behind you. "I miss you," you pouted up at him. He felt his heart twinge at this. He knew he should be spending more time with you, and less time down here, even if you told him you didn't mind.

He leaned forwards, his lips connecting to yours in a passionate kiss. What you didn't know, was that he needed you just as bad as you wanted him.

He let his hands wander lower, knowing exactly where to put pressure to make you feel good. He knew your body like the back of his hand. He was the only one that knew exactly where to touch you to make you moan out.

You let out a content sigh when you felt his fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts, whimpering when his fingers met your slit and made contact with your clit through your underwear.

You eyes fell shut, another sigh escaping your lips, there was just so much sexual tension. You pushed your hips up, trying to get some friction. Vincent sat back in his chair, cocky as ever, before removing his hand from your pants completely.

But you knew he wouldn't keep you waiting long.

He lifted you up from his lap and placed you on the edge of the desk, slowly unzipping his pants. He stopped there, though, just letting himself get some relief. He rolled his chair closer to you, now face to face with your lower half.

You knew what he wanted to do, and fuck, where you excited. His fingers hooked over your shorts, pulling them down all the way off before disregarding them in the floor. He blew a cold breath over your sex, making you shiver and try to close your legs. But he only spread them further, his hands wrapping around each of your thighs, before gently pushing you down.

You lay back, propping yourself up in your arms so you can still see him. He narrowed his eye at this, but let it slide anyway. 'Be good,' he signed quickly, but you were definitely going to be ignoring that.

He lifted your legs and placed them over his shoulders, before giving an experimental lick, not missing the moan you let out. He absolutely loved the sounds you made. "Fuck!" You gasped out at the feeling of finally being touched by Vince. One of your hands made its way to Vincent's long hair, your other one remained unmoving so you wouldn't fall.

Before you, Vincent wasn't really interested in sex. Of course, there were times when he needed to let off some steam, but after you? Vincent vowed to never use his hand again when he could just come to you.

He wrapped his lips around your swollen clit, giving it a harsh suck. God, Vincent had gotten so damn good at going down on you. He dipped a finger into your tight hole bringing your wetness back up to your clit and circling around it. The sounds you're making are driving him crazy.

It only encouraged him to keep going, though, and that's exactly what he did.

His fingers kept pushing in and out of you, the sound would have been embarrassing, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Your thighs started to shake ever so slightly, gently squeezing Vincent's head around them.

"Your hands are so good," you whined out, your fingers pulling at the root of his hair. Vincent was insanely good with his hands, his artwork proved that, as well as the fact that he could make you cum with his fingers in less than three minutes.

No one you'd ever been with could do that. Hell, you couldn't even do that. But Vince knew, by heart, where that delicious spot was and he wasted no time curling his fingers up to rub against it. You let out a choked moan, the feeling of him sliding his fingers sliding over it, again and again, made that familiar knot in your stomach start to tighten.

"Vince, baby," you breathed out. He knew exactly what that meant. By the way you moans were getting more rapid and your thighs were nearly crushing his skull, he knew that you were so close.

And Vincent absolutely loved the sound you made when you reached an orgasm. Deciding not to drag it out longer, Vincent attached his mouth to your clit again, nibbling and sucking at it. And with two more thrusts of his fingers, your were cumming.

Your entire body shook, and your back arched, and your head fell back as the most angelic moan Vincent swore he's ever heard, echoed off the basement walls. He wasn't sure if Bo was home or not, and if he was, he knew Bo had heard. But he knew better than to go investigating.

Vincent rid out your orgasm, before pulling his fingers out and looking up at you. Immediately, you sat up, grabbing his hand and pulling his fingers in your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits, tasting yourself. Seeing you like this made his dick throb.

You were always so good for him.

He pushed his fingers a bit further down your throat, before pulling them out and wiping them off on his pants.

He rolled his chair back again, just to watch you recover.

After you had caught your breath, your hands made their way to the bottom of your shirt ready to take it off. 'My shirt?' Vince signed. You nodded your head, pulling it up your torso when he stopped you. 'Leave it on.' You whimpered pathetically, still reeling from your recent orgasm. You weren't about to disobey him after that.

"Yeah?" You whispered, watching as he nodded in agreement. You scoot forward, letting your feet touch the ground, and you fell to your knees immediately, your legs still weak. Vincent tried to catch you before you hit the ground, but he was too slow, not having expected it.

Besides, you were already down there, already grabbing at his thighs. You didn't care about the sharp, aching pain in your knees, and neither did Vincent once your hand touched his clothed dick. His body hit the back of the chair as he groaned out.

You leaned up on your knees, wasting no time in pulling him free from his pants. "Fuck," you started, holding his cock with both of your hands, "you're so big." He watched as your breath hitched and you moved forward, letting  a cool breath out on the tip of his dick. Vincent's shudder under your hands was empowering, knowing that he was under your mercy right now.

His hands made themselves comfortable in the back of your hair at the back of your neck, urging you forward. Your mouth met the tip of his dick and his head slung back; you hoped his neck was okay, but you didn't stop.

Licking and sucking up all the pre cum he'd release while fucking you on his fingers had him gone, almost as gone as you were. You pinched his thigh, making his head snap up to glare at you. "Look at me, Vince," you whispered, mouth dangerously close to the vein on the underside of his cock.

He let out a breathy moan, pulling your hair a bit to urge you to take him in your mouth fully. You didn't wait any longer. Vince's mouth dropped open as you finally took him. His hands pulled you off, but you had already caught on, understanding his intentions.

"Fuck my throat, Vince," you whispered, making direct eye contact with him. The grip he had on you would've been painful for anyone else, not you though. You kept your mouth open dutifully, letting him thrust up into you while pulling your head down to meet the pace.

You let out a moan, the vibrations going straight to his cock, tears and slobber running down your face, making the slide so smooth. Going down on each other was both of your favorite things.

Finally, he pulled you off, his hands coming in contact with your face to wipe away the tears and moving strands of hair, so he could see you better. You looked a mess and a half for him. He let out a breath when you smiled up at him, rolling his eye.

He pulled you up, situating you on his lap once more. You could feel his still, very hard, dick pressed against your lower stomach and you couldn't wait anymore. You lifted your hips up, just enough to wrap your hand around his dick and line it up with your entrance.

His hand grabbed yours, moving it out of the way. Wrapping his own hand around himself, the other gripped your waist ad he pushed in. You both let out a sigh in unison, the feeling of him stretching you and pushing himself deeper into you was almost too much to handle.

Vincent was big, much bigger than his two fingers.

The stretch was just what you needed, though, and seeing your face turn in pleasure was quite the sight for Vince. He only gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size, before he lifted you up by your hips and slammed you back down on his dick.

You yelled, your hands scrambling to grab onto something, settling for his shoulders, nails digging in, making his hips stutter. This time, you lifted yourself off of him, before sinking back down as he thrusted up into you.

Your thighs were shaking vigorously, so he grabbed your hips again, helping you steady yourself before up and down, setting a punishing pace. The only sounds that could be heard was your pornographic moans, Vincent's soft grunts, and the sound of skin slapping together.

You leaned your head on Vincent's shoulder, pressing a kiss to his collarbone, before pulling his soft flesh in between your teeth and gentle sucked on the area. He grunted at this, pinching your thigh, making you sit back up to pout at him.

And that's when he noticed it.

His hands stilled your movements as you looked at him quizzically. "Vince?" You questioned, but he didn't even look up at you. He stood up quickly, you still perched on his dick, and sat you down on the edge of the desk again for the second time that night. He pushed you down to lean on your elbows, but he still hadn't started moving again.

Instead, he placed his hand on your lower abdomen, feeling the very prominent bulge of his dick inside you, through your soft skin. You finally looked down, catching sight of it yourself.

You and Vince had sex several times before, but this was the first time either of you have noticed this.

"Fuck," you moaned out, laying all the way back on the desk as a new wave of wetness coated his dick. Vincent grabbed one of your hands, placing it on top of the raised area and held it there with his own, before he continued to move his hips.

You threw your head back in pleasure, moaning Vincent's name. He only snickered, before moving impossibly faster. The pressure from both of your hands, plus the rough thrusting was almost too much for you.

You whimpered as you felt his hand slither down to your cunt. Once again, he stopped his thrusts and gently pulled out of you, watching as the bulge disappeared. He was absolutely fascinated by this. You frowned at the feeling of being empty.

Your hand hit the desk. "Put your dick back inside of me, or so help me-" you didn't even get to finish your sentence.  He didn't need to be told twice. He thrusted into you with so much force, that the top of your head hit the wall behind you. He paused, dragging you back down the table and simultaneously right onto his cock.

Then, he started back at the same brutal pace as before. One of his hands slid under your (his) shirt, finger tips brushing against your nipple. You were a moaning mess, tears soaked your cheeks, your hair stuck to your shoulders, but to Vincent, you were the most beautiful person that had ever stepped foot on Earth.

Especially in his basement.

"Please," you didn't know what you were begging for, but hopefully he did.

The desk was creaking under the weight of Vincent's thrusts and if you weren't currently being fucked so good, maybe you'd be concerned about it collapsing.

"Make me cum?" Your voice was pitiful.

"Make me cum, please?" You knew exactly what to say to push his buttons.

Vince let out a huff, hearing your voice begging him to do something so sinful made his dick throb. His hand left your hip, finding it in between where your bodies met. When he met your folds, you keened.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Please!" You sounds had caused him to almost blow his load right then and there, but he held back. The coil in your stomach tightened and tightened, right before it snapped.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you grabbed Vincent's hand through your shirt, holding it to help ground yourself. The sinful sounds you only drove him forward, his hips not stopping for a second. "Vince," you started, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as he fucked you into overstimulation.

Your body was on fire, but the both of you knew your limits. There was a safe word for this specific reason. You toughened it out for him, though. Besides, it started to feel good again. He repositioned his hands, one keeping your writhing hips still, the other to put pressure on the bulge in your tummy.

You knew this would become a reoccurring thing, you knew he was already obsessed with it. You pulled your legs up over his waist, in an attempt to bring him even closer to you, but he doesn't move. Instead, he slowed his pace, taking a new approach with slow, hot, and hard thrusts that made you see stars.

"Vince!" You yelled. "Fuck," your voice was a literal wreck. He was trying to kill you, you were sure of it.

It felt so damn good.

Before you, Vince hadn't even had his first kiss. But now? He was fucking you raw like they do in pornos. He was really about to make you cum for the third time tonight. Not that you minded. This was usually how it went.

He would make you cum at least twice before he did. I guess he was just a true gentleman. Vincent's grip on you was surely going to leave bruises. You were going to feel this for weeks to come.

Vince huffed again, thrusting even harder than before. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but he had to get you there first. He sped up, still going just as hard.

He gasped, letting out a soft "fuck." You hearing his voice is what sent you over the edge. Using it in a context, this was basically foul play.

He rarely used his voice, but every time you got the honor to hear it, it made your heart flutter. Well, not so much this time, with him being balls deep inside you and all, it made your pussy clench around him.

Feeling this, Vincent was absolutely reeling. His hips stuttered as he rid out both of your orgasms, cumming inside of you. He let out a loud moan, his eye squeezing shut as intense, hot pleasure spread throughout his body, letting your cunt milk his cock dry.

His hips slowed, eventually coming to a stop. He pulled out, flopping back to sit on his chair. He sat there watching you, looking at what a mess you were, his cum leaking out of your pussy. He got an idea.

Pulling himself closer to you, he watched as you tried to sit up, but he pushed you back down with ease. You just came three times, you weren't going to even try and fight him. He pulled one of your legs up to rest on his shoulder, eyeing the mix of both of your cum that was dripping from in between your legs, onto the desk, and into a pile on the ground. He leant down, sticking his tongue out and liking the cum on the inside of your thigh.

"Vince," you whimpered at the contact. He continued, making his way to your cunt, his mouth meeting your sex for the second time tonight. "I-I don' know 'f I can do anymore," you slurred, knowing he'd hear you in the quiet basement. 'You can,' he signed, 'for me.'

You let out a groan. How could you say no to that?

"Just be gentle," it came out as more of a question than a statement. But you knew he was going to be gentle regardless. He slid one of his hands up your body, offering it to you. You took it, holding onto it for comfort. His other hand, however, held your thigh down to the table, making sure you don't try to close your legs.

His tongue slid up your pussy, taking a mouth full of  the mix of yours and his cum. He lapped at your hole, dipping in, making you moan uselessly. Your head fell to the side, your desk resting on the cool metal underneath you. Your breathing was beyond erratic and your heart was racing. Vincent could feel that, though. His hand was resting right above your heart where you gripped onto it for dear life.

Your mind was completely blank, Vince's name a mantra coming out of your mouth. Your nails dug into his arm, making him grunt.

The feeling of his tongue slipping in and out of you, before circling around your clit had the knot tightening in your stomach for the fourth time. The tears running down your face were unstoppable, you felt like you could barley breathe.

But it felt so fucking good.

You were a babbling mess at this point. Your skin was layered with sweat and your hair matted to your skin, your ryes were puffy red. You were an absolute fucking mess.

But Vince didn't stop, he was determined to get you over the finish line once more.

His hand moved down to vigorously rub at your clit, his mouth leaving your cunt so he can lean up and kiss you, the taste of you and him drove you over the edge.

You moaned into his mouth, eyes closing and tears falling down your cheeks. You were worn out and Vince knew this. Pulling away from the kiss, he stood up from the chair with his hands gently resting on your shaking knees as he gave you a moment to catch your breath.

He could feel you trembling under his touch. This was exactly what you were aiming for since you wandered down here and sat on his lap. You knew it would leave you winded, but fuck!

'Are you okay?' He signed, before his hands moved to rest on your waist. You took a deep breath before slowly nodding your head. You reached for his hand and he grabbed it, helping you into a sitting position.

Vincent was very proud of himself, you could see that in his body language. 'Good?' He asked. You took a minute before nodding. "Good. Very good," you made a weak attempt at giving him a thumbs up. He smiled at this.

You scooted yourself off the desk, landing on your feet carefully. Your legs wobbled and shook beneath you, Vincent immediately grabbed a hold of you to keep you from falling.

"I'm going to die."

Vince rolled his eye, lifting you up into his arms and walked over to the bed in the corner. He sat you down on the mattress, pulling the blanket towards you, which you greatly accepted. Then, he turned around and started walking away from you. You frowned at this.

"No cuddles?" You asked in disbelief. Vincent always gave you cuddles after sex.

He visibly softened, telling you to wait a minute. You continued to frown, though, cuddling into his blanket.

After what felt like hours, but it was actually like two minutes, he returned.

He pulled you into a sitting position, frowning when he saw your face twist in discomfort from the pain between your legs. He brings a water bottle to your mouth, letting you take a few sips.

He knew you had little to no energy.

After he made sure you were hydrated, he sat down beside of you, you immediately leaning into his side. He glanced down at you before digging around in his pocket and pulling out a granola bar, turning his body towards you and reaching it to you.

It was a simple gesture, but it made your heart swell. You gave him a small smile, taking it from him and tearing it in half, offering the the other half back to him, which he greatly accepted.

"Can we cuddle now?" You asked, your eyes becoming heavy. Vincent nodded his head vigorously, wanting to cuddle just as bad as you did. He slithered his arm under your boneless form, lifting you up enough to where he can pull the covers down to pull over the both of you. You made a noise of discomfort at first, before realizing what he was doing.

If you were coherent right now, you definitely would've made a flirty remark towards him lifting you up so easily, but alas, he'd fucked you good enough for your brain to go numb, exactly like you planned. "You're so hot," you basically slurred, making him snort indignantly.

He pushed you back, you let your body hit the bed, the soreness still not yet caught up with you. Vince scooted you over a bit, sliding in himself, feeling you immediately latch onto him. He let his hands wander to your back, rubbing your back at a steady pace, feeling himself start to drift off with you.

[xslashers]

Bo Sinclair | Randoms HCS

Bo Sinclair X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: crack, angst, murder, fluff, hurt/comfort, sadistic reader, cursing, mentioned smut, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1,615

—

• This man is an asshole, we all know it, but when it comes to you? Complete teddy bear. Lester & Vince would tease him about it if they knew he wouldn’t kill ‘em.

• You’re the ONLY person who is allowed to tell him what to do.

• But only sometimes, if he thinks what you’re saying is dumb, he’ll completely ignore you altogether.

• Anyway, you’re his comfort person. Even if he doesn’t like it, you’re the only person he can talk to about person issues.

• It took a long while for both of you to make it to this point in your relationship. Bo had to make sure you were here for the long run.

• Although Bo doesn’t really show it in normal ways, he cares a lot for his brothers.

• One day, some people decide to cross through Ambrose. You were playing your role as the friendly neighbor, when you heard someone shouting.

“You stupid fucking redneck prick! Do you even know what the fuck you’re doing?” You turned, immediately figuring out it was coming from the gas station. So you made your way towards the, what sounds like, a mess. “Hey, hey! What’s the problem here?” You’re voice was soothing. “This dumb, illiterate fuck doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” Surely they weren’t talking about your Bo.  You noticed the man was standing further away from his two friends, and you slyly made your way over, “Oh yeah?” Bo grunted, seemingly trying to tell you to ‘back the hell up.’ But your hand was quicker than even he expected.  Your little dagger made home in this guy’s throat faster than he could get another word out. You pulled your hand forward ripping the knife out of his throat horizontally, some gooey throat shit coming out with it. You looked completely unbothered by this. You kicked out his knees, watching him fall to the ground, blood splattering all over you, having stabbed through his carotid artery. The other two from the group screamed in horror, Bo took this as a chance to attack the other guy, while you went after the girl.  You snickered to yourself cruelly as you chased after her, she truly thought she could get away. Before she got far, she tripped, probably twisting her ankle. How lucky. You made quick work of her, slitting her throat and bashing her head into the ground just to be sure. You stood up and turned around, making eye contact with Bo. “Are you okay?” You asked him, ignoring the 3 bleeding bodies as you made your way towards him. “You’re askin’ if I’m okay?” He laughed out. You just shrugged, “Yeah?” Like you didn’t just kill two people for him. “Are you okay?” He asked, placing his hands on your cheek, trying to smear the blood off. “Well,” you started. “Blood isn’t mine.” You smiled up at him. “Are you okay mentally?” He raised his eyebrows. You glared at him, bringing your hands up to rest on his shoulders, “Not really, but that’s pretty normal for me, honestly.” You reassured him. “C’mon, lets go get you cleaned up.” He said, taking your hand and leading you out of the gas station. He decided a hot shower would be the best for both of you. “Why’d you do it? I know you don’t like gettin’ your hands dirty.” He asked quietly, while wiping the dried blood off of your body with a wash cloth. “Honestly?” Your eyes dare not leave his form. “I’d do anything for you Beauregard Sinclair.” He snorted, pinching your thigh for using his full name, but he believed you.

• That was when he realized you weren’t going anywhere.

• He’d never admit it, but he loves it when you play with his hair.

• He becomes boneless when you cuddle him and take care of him, he just loves you a lot.

• He’s not used to being babied, but goddamnit does he love it. He gets SO red, it’s adorable.

• Flustered Bo is the cutest thing in entire world and I WILL die on this hill.

• It’s been more than two year, and yet he still gets flustered when you flirt back with him, and even start on him with your dumb pick up lines and jokes.

• It took him a while to say ‘I love you’ back, but you say it AT LEAST 20 times a day.

• He doesn’t say it back sometimes, but you know it’s hard, and you know he loves you.

• But by golly the first time he said it back, you didn’t make a big deal outta it but you were over the moon.

• You honestly can’t cook either, But Bo cooks for just the two of you and calls ‘em dates. It warms your little heart.

• You two have the same taste in music, and you really wanna take him to a concert one day.

• You have really good relationships with both Vincent & Lester, it makes Bo so happy. He may never admit it out loud though.

• When Lester is in Ambrose, it’s hell for both Bo and Vince, you two together are so annoying.

• You two would do something ‘n then Bo would scold y’all like children, while you and Lester are holding back laughter.

• Your healthy relationships with his brothers are so very important to him.

• He loves going on random drives with you.

• You make him drive you to town just to buy stupid little things and he can’t even say that he hates it because you hold his hand and drag him through isles of an actual gas station and he fuckin’ loves it.

• He definitely steals stuff for you, even though you told him not to.

• You buy stuff for him, he steals stuff for you, the perfect match.

• He can definitely get super grouchy sometimes, but all you gotta do is give him ‘the look’ and he straightens his fine ass up real quick.

• He’s such a prick sometimes, and he knows you can’t stand it, so when he’s mad at you it’s 10x worse.

• He KNOWS how to push all your buttons, and you know how to push all of his.

• It’s a very dangerous game.

• It either ends in hurt feelings and meaningful apologies, or rough angry sex.

• If it does end in hurt feelings and meaningful apologies, then you get slow hot passionate sex. :D

• Although sometimes Bo just wants slow, soft, comforting, sex. :(

• Bo has a bad day? Comfort Sex. You feelin’ down? Comfort Sex.

• Bo likes to take care of you, and vice versa!

• You’ll make your way to the gas station where he’s workin’ and hit him with the “teach me how to work on cars.” And he gets so excited, it’s so cute. :(

• You actually learn a decent amount! It’s hard though cause he’s so pretty and you get caught staring an embarrassing amount, and he gets so cocky & smug, but at the same time very flustered.

• But you’re 100% sure you could fix up a car all by yourself and Bo is so proud.

• He ‘tests’ you one day with a broken down, former victims, car.

• Both of you get so excited and hype after you finally fix it, ‘n get it up and runnin’.

• Y’all can bet you take that baby for a joyride and blast Bo’s CDs.

• Mans has such a good taste in music.

• It’s even funnier cause you both had the same taste in music before you got together.

• When he found out, he fell just a bit more in love with you, if that was even possible.

• Bo LOVES cuddling, you didn’t hear it from me.

• But the fact that you feel safe in his arms…

• And God, don’t even get me started about how safe he feels in YOUR arms

• You’ve both came so far and your both tremendously proud of each other.

• Sometimes, after Bo’s had a hard day, he’ll just come and plop down into your arms.

• Most of the time, he doesn’t like talking about it, but sometimes he does and- :(

• You just hold him and never let go.

• Though, sometimes you like to bake your sadness away.

• As in Bo cooks for the both of you whilst you amuse him enough to convince him to let you lick the spoon.

• If you’re in his way, you’re kicked out of the kitchen entirely. Or just stop altogether.

“You’re in my way darlin’”  “Then move me.”

• And he will move you right on top of the counter, he doesn’t care.

• But then y’all go back to cooking right after.

• You have him narrate everything he’s doing, whenever he actually indulges you and does it, it’s great but usually..

“So what are you doing?” You knew what he was doing, you just wanted to hear his voice.  “Well I’m making cookies, obviously.” He deadpans.  You rolled your eyes, “thank you for that, captain obvious.”

• Sometimes vince will come in and narrate what he’s doing in sign.

• It keeps both of you quiet, so Bo doesn’t care, some would even say he enjoys both of you being in his presence.

• He makes the BEST cookies ever

• One time caught you wearing a pair of his overalls, which were way too big on you.

• And your soul left your body when he saw you, but he thought it was the cutest shit ever.

• You steal his shirts all the time and he loves it so much, every time he sees you got one of his shirts on, he can’t help the smile on his face each time he looks at you.

• He would literally die for you, he loves you so much

• You would do the same for him.

[xslashers]

Bo Sinclair | Hold Me

Bo Sinclair X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, Bo being sad and just wants to be held :(

Word Count: 523

—

For you, today had been a breeze. Not that you even remember anything that happened today. You sat on the couch, your feet propped up on the coffee table (even though you’re always yelling at the boys for it), scrolling through your phone with the TV on in the background.

You honestly weren’t even paying attention to your phone either. You were more interested in the fact that Bo was due home any minute now.

Perhaps napping with Bo didn’t sound so bad.

Your heart skipped a beat when the front door opened, but you remain seated, not wanted to seem eager to be in his embrace. Your heart skipped another beat just watching him make his way towards where you were on the couch.

“Hi baby.” You smiled up at him as he sat down beside you. He didn’t say anything back, your eyes subtly narrowing in on his rigid form. “Are you alright?” You questioned, turning your body to face his.

Bo stays quiet, not even looking at you. It was rare that he got this way. You didn’t want to say or do anything that would upset him further or set him off.

He took off his hat, throwing it on the table, before running his hands through his hair. You didn’t say anything, just watched. You noticed how tired he appeared. You shuffled a bit to make sound, and slowly let your hand set on his shoulder.

“Bo?” You finally spoke again, getting immensely worried about him when he wasn’t his usual chatterbox self.

“Sorry.” His voice cracked.

His voice cracked?

“For what? you didn’t do anything.” You stated, eyebrows furrowing quizzically. “Fuck.” He whispered, ignoring what you said to run his hands down his face, wiping his tears along the way.

You felt your heart strings tug.

Bo was a tough man and if he’s on the verge of tears, then you knew that something was really bothering him. You tugged on his arm, pulling him to turn around to face you, letting him bury his head into your chest.

He wrapped his arms around your torso and you could feel him slightly tremble. You pretend not to hear his pitiful sounds, for both his sake and yours.

“Can you just hold me for a minute?” He sounded desperate and broken. Fuck.

“Of course, Bo.” You hoped hearing his own name would ground him at least a bit. You laid back on the couch, bringing Bo down with you. You ran your fingers through his hair, carefully avoiding a specific scar in the back there, knowing how sensitive it was, knowing that touching it now would set him off so much more.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked him, even though he’d most likely say no. You felt him shake his head no, expectedly, against your chest, you nodded gently, “that’s okay too.” You whisper knowing that he’ll hear you. Your heart aches for him. You wished you could make everything bothering him go away. You know you can’t, that there’s too much on his shoulders. So you just hold him, like he asked of you.

[xslashers]

Bo Sinclair | Too Close For Comfort

Bo Sinclair X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: mentions of blood, needles, Bo having a violent outburst, Bo being in pain, ooc Bo because he's drunk and delirious, cursing  

Word Count: 1,995

—

Bo Sinclair was the most stubborn person in the entire world, you were 100% sure of this. Though, you loved him whole-heartedly. Yeah, sometimes he was a pompous prick, but you always made sure to call him out on it.

Today was a 'normal' day. Vincent was in the basement working, Lester was in the woods deer hunting, and Bo was doing...whatever it is that Bo does. He did a little bit of everything around here, switching it up each day. You, on the other hand, were reading a book that you had found in one of the victim's cars.

It was boring and you couldn't get into it, but at least it was something to do. You had half the mind to go find Bo and pester hum, but that was always a risky game to play. So you continued to sit there on yours and Bo's shared bed, reading this stupid, lame book.

Suddenly the sound of the front door slamming open caused you to jump in your seat, the sound then followed by curses from Bo. You figured something had went wrong at the station and you were about to go comfort him when you figured out Lester was the one he was yelling at.

Yeah, never mind. You had learned to stay out of the way when any of the brothers argued with each other.

But when Lester came bursting into your room, his hands covered in blood and a worried expression on his face, you jumped up. "What the hell?" You questioned, following him into the living room, where Bo was sitting back on the couch, his eyes closed shut and an arrow sticking through his chest.

You knew he was in pain. How could he not be?

You sat down next to him, waving Lester off, letting him know that you had it from here. Bo's eyes shot open when he felt your hands on his arm.

"Oh no, no, no," he mumbled, trying and failing to stand up, only to be pushed back down by you. "Listen doll, no offense, but the last time you tried to help, you only made it worse," he said, holding his shoulder with his hand.

"I didn't make it worse, you were just being a crybaby about it," you replied, pulling out the first aid kit from under the coffee table that you had stored away in case of emergencies like this. "What the hell happened anyway?" You turned your body towards his.

"My dumbass brother mistook me for a damn deer," Bo laughed at the irony. You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? You're lucky he didn't hit your heart," you frowned, seeing how close it actually was to hitting it. You pulled out the supplies you'd need laying them out on top of the coffee table.

Then, you started unbuttoning his shirt, being as gentle as you could before you realized you'd need to cut it off the rest of the way.

"Now darlin', if you wanted t'get me outta my clothes, all you had to do was just ask," Bo smirked down at you. You, however, didn't find it at all funny. But what you did make you chuckle was you hand accidentally knocking against the arrow.

He hissed out in pain, gritting his teeth. "The hell was that for?" He asked, pulling as far away from you as possible.

"It was an accident," you shrugged.

"Yeah, accident my ass," Bo hesitantly moved closer to you again, watching your every move.

You pulled out a pair of plyers, immediately going to town, knowing this part wouldn't hurt him. After cutting the excess arrow, you stood up and disappeared into the kitchen. Bo knew what you were going to get. Unfortunately for him, it had to be done.

You returned to your seat beside him, a bottle of vodka in your grip. He watched you as poured it over your hands to sanitize them, before yanking the bottle out of your hands and taking a big swig of it. "You know this is gonna hurt," you told him, yanking the bottle out of his hands, returning it to your own before he could drink the rest of it. "Yeah, yeah. I know," he rolled his eyes, trying to act like it wasn't a big deal.

You frowned. Bo was always trying to act tough, but you could only imagine how much pain he was truly in.

Before he could say anything, you poured the alcohol over his bare shoulder, making sure to get his front and back. Bo lurched forward, banging his fist against the coffee table as hard as he could. "I'm sorry," you bit your lip, seeing him pain making your heart ache. You sat the now empty bottle on the ground at your feet.

"Yeah, I bet you are. I bet you like seeing me in pain," Bo seethed, breathing erratically. "Why would you think that? I hate seeing you like this," you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest as you gave him a minute to settle down.

"Sure seems like you're enjoying it," he finally sat back, readying himself for the next part. "I don't enjoy it at all, Bo," you said truthfully.

"Could've fooled me."

You let out an annoyed sigh before wrapping your hands around the excess metal, only to be stopped.

"Wait! Wait! Could you at leas' give me a count down 'er somethin'?"

You nodded your head, "On three?"

This wasn't the first time you had pulled an arrow out of one of the boys' body. You had to make sure you had a good grip, you didn't want to slip off. You wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

Bo nodded his head, ready.

"One," and before you got to two, you pulled with all your might, the metal coming out in your hands. You cringed as Bo shot up from the couch, walking over to the wall and punching it, leaving a hole in its place. You sighed, knowing you could just cover it with a painting or something.

"You fuckin' whore!" He shouted, pushing over the table that rested in the corner of the room that had a bunch of old newspapers placed on it. You knew he didn't mean what he said at all. He was in pain, you knew that, so you'd let it slide this time.

"Come back before you bleed out," you ordered, the wound now gushing blood.

"No, fuck you," Bo shook his head, getting as far away from you as possible. "You're going to bleed out!" You stated, standing up from the couch and walked to where he stood, placing gauze on either side of the wound.

"I still have to stitch you up," you reminded him and he threw his head back in agony. You sighed again, the blood already starting to soak through the white cloths. "Can't I just keep it like this?" He asked, followed by a sniff. You softened at this. Bo Sinclair never cried. Yet here he was, tears starting to fall down his cheeks.

"You and I both know that's not gonna stop the bleeding, baby," you said, applying slight pressure to the now completely red gauzes. "I know, I know," Bo whispered, "Can I at leas' get s'more booze?"

You nodded your head, reaching into the cabinet above you and pulling out a half empty bottle of whisky. Reaching it to him, he walked back to the couch, before opening it and nearly chugging the rest of the bottle. You didn't try and stop him, though. This was the closest thing you had to a sedative right now.

You followed him, grabbing the surgical grade needle and thread.

"C'mon, this part ain't that bad," Bo shrugged, egging you to get a move on with it. You pulled off the soiled bandages, disregarding them on the coffee table. You were sure this part was going to go smoothly, but as soon as you pushed the needle through his skin, he jerked away from you.

"Give it a couple minutes to let the booze kick in first, yeah?" He suggested, looking at you with pleading eyes. You reached for clean gauze, the sight of his blood dripping down his torso making you cringe. You wiped the crimson trail off, before holding it on the front of the wound. "Just tell me when you're ready," you told him, giving him a sympathetic look.

Bo waited until his head was dizzy, from the alcohol or blood loss, he didn't know, but he could barley hold his eyes open, letting you know that he was ready by shooting you a thumbs up. You rolled your eyes playfully, gripping the needle that was still in his arm, before stitching him up.

He let you finish this time, only complaining twice. When you made sure he was stitched up as good as you could get it, you placed fresh bandages over top of it.

"All done, baby," you pressed a kiss to the top of his shoulder, before picking up the trash. You went to stand up, but his hand shot up to grab your wrist.

"I just sat there though all that agonizin' pain 'n I don' even get a kiss?" He pouted, now clearly drunk off his ass. "I'll give you a kiss after I wash my hands. Don't get up too fast," you told him, walking to the kitchen, tossing the trash into the bin on the way there.

Bo followed you and stood right behind you (and I mean right behind you, his chest was flush against your back) as you washed the blood off your hands. Before you could even dry them off, he was gripping your face and smashing his lips to yours. He tasted of cigarettes and alcohol, with a hint of mint from the gum he was always chewing.

You stood there and let him kiss you as long as you could, before pulling away for air, causing him to pout because he clearly wasn't ready to end the kiss.

"You should go get yourself cleaned up some," you suggested.

Bo's demeanor changed. "You got me all hot and bothered and you're just gonna leave me hangin'?

You snorted. "You're not getting any tonight, bub. You've lost too much blood," you patted his cheek, smiling all snarky. You turned away to head towards your bedroom. "Can you help me?" Bo stopped you by pulling your arm. You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, you said it yourself! I lost too much blood and can pass out at any time!" You rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand and gently pulling him with you.

"Like what if I would fall and hit my head or something? It would be all your fault and I would make you feel so bad about it," he continued rambling. "I'm not gonna leave you alone to fall," you told him. "Stop being such a big baby," you teased him.

Reaching the bathroom, you sat him down on the toilet seat, before grabbing a cold, wet rag and gentle rubbing it over the dried blood, dirt, and sweat that marked his body.

"Thank you for taking care of me," he slurred, his head falling to the side and his eyes falling shut. "And I'm sorry for calling you a whore," he continued. "You don't have to apologize, I know you didn't mean it. And you don't have to thank me either, baby," you grabbed his face with your hands, tilted his head up to look at you.

He opened his eyes at this, his lips immediately puckering up for a kiss. You laughed at this, pushing your lips to his in another kiss.

[xslashers]

Vincent Sinclair | NSFW Alphabet

Vincent Sinclair X Fem!Reader

Warnings: nsfw content (obviously), MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2,059

—

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

Vincent is HUGE on aftercare. He loves taking care of you after you had just been so good for him. Usually, he'll take a shower with you, but if he went a little too hard and you don't feel like it, he'll grab a warm wash cloth and clean you up the best he can before carrying you to his bed and tucking you in, AND he gives the BEST cuddles!

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

Vincent was insecure about most of his body. Between his brother's comments and the way his parents forced him to wear a mask, how could he not be? However, he is starting to be little more confident with the help of you. If he HAD to pick, his favorite thing about himself would be his hands. The things he could do with them amazed him sometimes.

His favorite part about you, however, would be your eyes. Of course, he loved every single inch of you, but your eyes were magical to him. They held so much emotion and the way they sparkle when you smile makes his heart swell.

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

Vincent is a very respectful man. He's always putting your needs before his own. But that doesn't mean he won't cum on your tits or ass. Sure, it gets a little messy, but he loves seeing your body littered with spurts of his cum.

But if you want him to cum inside you, you bet your sweet ass that he fuckin' will.

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

Vincent is an artist, obviously, he's in love with you. So what do you get when you mix very detailed artwork with a super hot babe? You get drawings and paintings of you in very sinful positions, doing very sinful things. Vincent has sketchbooks full of these certain drawings, though he would NEVER admit it. He has them hidden away somewhere where no one will ever find them.

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

Before you, Vince wasn't with anyone. Sure, he's gotten a few hard-ons and experimented a little, but that's about it. After you, though? All you have to do is show him once and he's caught on. Everything he knows, he learned from you, and he's so good at it, too. He's a quick learner!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It may be a little old school, but Vince loves missionary. He loves to see your facial expressions whenever the tip of his dick brushes over that one special spot.

He loves being able to hold you down with his hands, he loves the feeling of your legs wrapped around him, he loves the stunning view he gets of your chest. Everything about it is perfect.

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

For the most part, Vince is serious about sex. But there have been some times where he's let out a laugh or two.

For instance, the one time he had you in a position with your legs pulled over his shoulders and you started yelling for him to stop. He was TERRIFIED that he had hurt you, but you started busted out laughing, complaining about a fuckin' Charley Horse in your calf. He laughed too, finding the situation to be almost comical.

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

Vincent doesn't really care, to be honest. I mean, he never cared about it before and you never told him to do anything about it, so he doesn't care about it now.

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

Man, Vince is a sucker for romance. He'll make you a nice candle lit dinner and then fuck you on the table afterwards.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He used to jack off quite a lot, his hand being the only relief he could get. But now that you have blessed him with your presence, there's literally no use in masterbating when he can just come to you. He knows you'd help take care of him. No questions asked.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

It's safe to say that Vince is definitely into wax play. Along with that, he's very keen on getting praised. He spent most of his life being told that he'll never be good enough, so MAKE SURE you tell him how good he's doing. He'll eat that shit up.

I can also see him being into hunter/prey play. Imagine him chasing you down, like this man is massive and that would be terrifying, but then he just fucks you were he catches you?

As well as begging and definitely hair pulling!

And fucking voyeurism and exhibitionism. Except if the people watching are his brothers. Absolutely not.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Vince is down to do it anywhere he knows his brothers won't see. If he knows Lester is out of town and Bo is at the garage, he'll fuck you in any room in the house, even on Bo's bed.

You also have a weird thing about doing it in the church and movie theater. Yeah, you know the wax figures are dead and they can't see/hear you, but there's just something about it that makes it exciting. Oh, and you quite enjoy the fact that his own fucking mother is mere feet away from you as you're riding him in a church pew.

His FAVORITE place, though? That's easily gotta be in the basement at his desk, with you laid across it.

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

You get to the point sometimes where you're just SO needy for him and you can't be patient any longer. You'll try and coax him out of whatever he's doing and come fuck you instead. He knows exactly what you're doing though, he loves that you need HIM so bad. He just likes to hear you beg for him.

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

Never, would he ever, do a threesome. He never thought he'd find someone for himself and he's not about to share you with ANYONE.

Anything that includes his brother's watching is a hard pass. He doesn't want them ogling over you or trying to correct them on what he's doing.

Do not degrade him. I will hunt you down myself if you say anything degrading towards him.

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

Oh man, Vince is obsessed with going down on you. He could stay between your legs for days if you'd let him. The sounds you make, the taste of you, the way your hands tug at his hair? He prefers to give.

But he would never say no to a blow job. The way your lips wrap around his cock as you tried to take in his entire length, but fail miserably, was just too cute. The first time you ever gave him head, he was in a literal personal heaven.

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

It all depends on the day. Usually, he's more soft, hard, and passionate, only speeding up if you've asked him to do so. But if he's had a particular troublesome day, or if Bo said some shit that irritated him, he'd be fast and rough. Either way, both was perfectly fine by you.

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

Eh, he doesn't prefer them. He knows he can take his time with you and do things properly, so why rush it?

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

If you were into something, he'd be down to try it. If he'd see something in a movie, he'd wanna try it, just to be sure that he wasn't missing out on anything.

One time, you suggested fucking in Bo's truck. At first, Vincent didn't want anything to do with that, but then he thought, why not? It'd be kinda hot fucking in his asshole brother's car. And he'd never know about it. So you two waited until Bo was passed the fuck out on the couch and snuck outside.

It was cramped, and the two of you accidentally pressed the horn a few times, but it was a fun experience and Bo still has no idea to this day.

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

Vincent has a lot of stamina. He could last for hours. He'd make you cum three times before he's even came once. He usually lasts about 2-3 rounds, before he's worn out and needs a nap.

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

Nope, Vincent likes to do everything himself. If you had any, say goodbye because he'd get rid of them. You don't need a vibrator or dildo when you have a man that would do those things for you! And you have to admit, Vincent was better at it anyway.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Vince likes to tease you enough to the point where you'll start begging. He LOVES hearing you beg for him. The way your eyes start to fill with tears, you pout up at him, and the needy tone in your voice when you're begging for his dick? He fucking LOVES that. He won't make you wait too long though, he needs your pussy just as much as you need his cock.

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

Vincent rarely uses his voice, so the only time you get to hear it, is when he's groaning, grunting, and growling during sex. You adore the sounds he makes and you're doing anything you can to hear them. He can get pretty loud sometimes, but usually he's quiet.

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

People are camping on the outskirts of Ambrose all the time. And with your and Vince's kink for doing it in public places, the two of you found yourselves at a campsite. There were two tents set up, with one vehicle parked.

So you two did what any other person would do, and he fucked you on the hood of a random person's car, while they slept.

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

Oh boy, Vincent is packing. He never really noticed how big he was until his first time with you, when he saw your eyes widen and you said something along the lines of "there's no fucking way that's fitting." He made sure it fit, though. Every last inch.

Vincent is packing a whopping 10-inches, I don't care and no you can't change my mind. His dick is so fucking beautiful, y'all. It slightly curves up, perfect for hitting that one special spot, and there's a vein starting on the underside of it, wrapping around to the top. And he's thick, too! It doesn't matter how often the two of you fuck; every time, you need a minute or two to adjust to his size.

And the best part is that he knows exactly how to use it to make you feel good.

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

Vincent loves having sex with you. It's his favorite part of the day! But he doesn't NEED it, though he definitely prefers it. It just makes him feel better mentally and physically and it's a great way to blow of steam. You're down to do it anytime/anywhere he wants to.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn't fall asleep until you do. He's very protective of you and he knows you feel the safest when you're around him. So he'll watch you as you fall asleep, gently rubbing his fingers over your beautiful features and moving your hair behind your ear. And then when he knows you're fully asleep, he'll tuck his head into your chest and wrap and arm around you, before falling into a deep sleep.

[xslashers]

Vincent Sinclair | All In Good Time

Vincent Sinclair X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: cursing, a little angst, reader is a little pushy

Word Count: 1,748

—

You loved this man, truly.

He was, quite literally, all you had.

The only thing you ever cared about, basically.

Over the last two years, you had been there for him, cared for him, helped him with his wax sculptures (and by help, I mean keep him company while he did all the work, he wouldn't let you touch them), and you loved him with every fiber of your being.

You didn't want to push him away when it came to his face, but he trusts you, don't he? You knew he did, but that didn't stop the intrusive thought from plaguing your mind. Its swarmed your thoughts for weeks now. You've thought about talking to him about it, but you didn't want to offend him.

You walked through the town, enjoying today's weather. Completely ignoring the fact that you were walking by dead bodies, you made your way to the House of Wax. You knew that your boyfriend would be in the basement, working on his newest piece of work.

You opened the door to the museum, the feeling of the cracked wax on the door never failed to make you cringe. Passing the delicately posed wax figures, you made your way into the dim lit basement.

"Vince baby, are you in here?" You called out, walking down the candle lit hallway. When you made it to the main room, Vincent was currently covering, a probably innocent, person in hot wax. You tried not to pay attention to that, though. What you did notice, was Vincent rushing to cover his face with anything he could find.

You frowned at this.

You hated that he was so insecure around you. You caught a glance of his mask, resting it on a nearby table. Grabbing it, you walked towards him as his back faced you. "Here baby," you reached the piece of wax over his shoulder.

He grabbed it out of your grasp and quickly secured it to his face, you didn't fail to notice his quivering. "Vince, you don't have to wear that around me," you told him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head on his back.

The full body flinch he experienced, quickly had you letting go of him and stepping away, letting him compose himself. Your heart raced as he turned to walk away from you, but you stopped him. "I'm sorry," you frowned, "I didn't mean to upset you."

He lifted his head and turned to give you a glance, before leaving you in the wax room by yourself.

You hated being in here alone, especially with a dead body. You expected Vince to wait on you, knowing how much you hated it, but he was gone. You let out a sigh, half guilt, half anger, and rushed upstairs.

When you reached the top floor, the entrance door was wide open. "Vince wait!" You yelled after him, seeing his form halfway up the hill to the house, running after him.

"Wait!" You were almost caught up with him. "I said wait!" You said angrily, hand getting ready to grab his shoulder, but he had already spun around before you got the chance to touch him. Unexpectedly, he took a sharp step towards you. His swift movement startled you, making you take a step back.

He stood there, and you could tell he was upset by the way his body shook.

"I'm sorry," you sniffled, feeling bad for pestering him and feeling bad for making him feel bad.

He only shook his head, turning on his heel and walking away from you again. Only this time, you didn't go after him. You stood there until he disappeared into the house.

You cursed at yourself, letting out a frustrated sigh and kicked the nearest rock you saw, before making your way to your little cabin on the outskirts of Ambrose. If Vincent decided not to come home to you, then what?

You couldn't leave. You knew that if you tried, the three Sinclair brothers would stop you in no time. Still fuming, you pushed the front door open to the cabin.

The cabin was small, but it was cozy. After a year of being in Ambrose, and when you and Vincent started dating, you had convinced them that the two of you needed your own place to live. Living in a place that was made for the two of you would've been so much better than living under the same roof as Bo.

Plus, your decorations were just better.

But none of that would matter if the one person you were here for, didn't come back to you.

Rolling your eyes, you thought that a nice warm bath would help put your mind to ease. It would also give you the chance to practice your apology to him, too. You angrily gathered your towels.

"Fuck!" You shouted to stop yourself from hurting yourself. You were angry at yourself for hurting Vince like that. How could you have been so pushy about it? Maybe later, Vince would be calm enough to talk about it, or maybe he wouldn't.

You took a moment to compose yourself.

Turning on the water, you grabbed a match and lit the candles that surrounded the back side of the tub. You and Vince had often shared baths together, of course he never took his mask of, though. Pushing the thought to the back of your mind, you turned the water off.

Satisfied, you reached over and flipped the light switch off, smiling at the scene. You wished Vincent was here with you to share this moment.

Undressing yourself, you lowered yourself into the water, letting out a sigh of content as the warm water surrounded your body.

The longer you soaked, the more you started to think. You knew you should've been a lot more sensitive about the whole situation. You knew you went about it the wrong way. You just wanted him to be happy and comfortable. You sniffed again, refusing to let the tears fall.

You needed to talk to him. You needed to let him know that you would wait however long he needed you to.

And before you could change your mind, you pulled your body out of the tub.

You could've went about the situation so much differently. You wrapped a towel around yourself and unplugged the stopper, letting the water flood out. You turned back on the light, before blowing out the candles.

Pulling the bathroom door open, you jumped back when you saw someone sitting on the bed that you and Vincent shared. At the sound of your frightened gasp, the figure stood up. You relaxed when he got caught in the moonlight and you realized it was just the man you were looking for.

He starts walking towards the bedroom entrance, but you're quicker than him and stand in the doorway, blocking the exit. You knew, if he really wanted too, he could move you out of the way without breaking a sweat.

Your hand made contact with his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

"Wait Vince, please?"

He shook his head, placing his hands on your shoulders to move you out of the way.

"Please just listen to me! And if you still want to leave, I won't stop you, but please hear me out first," you begged him. You could hear him sigh and you watched as his body slumped, tiredly. He nodded for you to continue.

"Okay, I'm sorry," you started, "I didn't mean to make you mad, or offend you, or make you uncomfortable. It wasn't my intentions." Vince shifted around on his feet.

"I love you."

And here comes the water works.

"I'll always love you. No matter what. No matter you look like, or how you act," you turned away slightly to wipe away a tear threatening to fall down your cheek. "I'm sorry for pressuring you, that was wrong of me. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, but I just want you to know that I'm so fucking sorry," your voice cracked.

Vincent looked at you for a moment, before closing the gap between the two of you, pulling you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso, crying into his chest.

You honestly had no idea why you were this upset. Maybe because you knew you had damaged the trust that he had for you. Or maybe because you knew that you had hurt him - might've not been physically, but definitely emotionally and mentally.

Vincent backed up a bit, just enough to cup your face in his hands and wipe your tears away. You pouted up at him. "You don't have to forgive me, I understand," you blabbered.

He shook his head at you, hands holding both of your cheeks gently. He leaned down, bringing your foreheads together. You stood up on your tip toes, pressing your lips his mask's waxy ones. And he let you, before he led you to the bed and pushed you down to sit on the edge.

You looked up at him with a questioning look.

He turned his back to you, before walking towards the door.

You slumped in your seat, thinking he was leaving, but he only flipped the light on.

His hands made their way up to the wax on his face. You could only watch in awe, as you were so sure that he'd be done with you after this. But alas, his mask comes off, him placing it on the dressier, before turning around and making his way back to you. Face uncovered.

Your heart sped up, staring up at your boyfriend. You remained seated as he reached you.

You took in every detail of his face. And every single inch of it was beautiful. Standing in front of you now, he bent down ever so slightly, taking your hand in his and placing it on the marred side of his face.

This was an enormous step in your relationship, you both knew this.

"I knew you were beautiful, Vince," you spoke, before he leaned into your soft hand. You, very gently, ran your thumb over his cheek.

"I love you," you whispered to him, afraid to ruin the moment, your eyes not leaving his.

[xslashers]

Michael Myers | Morally Gray

Michael Myers X AFAB!Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: smut, cursing, choking, mentions of killing & murder, reader is morally gray, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3,620

—

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. After 15 years, you couldn't believe you were hearing his name again. Remembering the moments you used to spend all your time together, sitting in silence, or even throwing mud in each others faces.

You remembered that night so vividly, for you dreamt about it nearly every night; it didn't matter how many shrinks you saw. He was basically all you ever thought about since. So when the news reporter said he had escaped, you were hyper fixated on finding him again.

Michael Myers was a plague infecting your mind and you simply let it work its course.

So after moving towns, you found yourself in Haddonfield once again, after promising yourself you'd never go back. It was oddly euphoric, being back in this god forsaken shithole of a town.

You went to the place where it all started, the place where Michael Myers slaughtered three people on Halloween night in 1963. Although they were murdered in cold blood, yours was rushing hot in your veins.

When you finally came face to face with the old ran down house, you held your breath.

'Is this really a good idea?' Was the only thought running through your mind.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you reached for the splintered gate, pulling it open with ease.

Was he already here?

The autumn breeze swept your hair as your stepped onto the porch, noting to watch where you step as the floor was caving in some places. The thought of falling and impaling yourself on something sharp filled your mind. Maybe it would save Michael the hassle.

You pushed the door open, taking a deep breath of the old musty smell. You were certain you were going to get sick. But still yet, you put one foot in front of the other and stepped inside. Memories started to come flooding back to you.

You and Michael had spent a lot of time together in this house, his mom would offer to watch you any chance she could. Being Michael's one true friend had some perks, you smiled to yourself wistfully.

You made your towards the stairs, figuring that if he was here, he'd be in his bedroom. Except, that was not where he was at all. Michael was waiting for you at the top of the stairs.

You didn't know if your heart had stopped beating or if it was beating so fast that you couldn't hear it, but seeing Michael after all these years definitely took a toll on your body.

"Michael?" Your voice was barley above a whisper, but by the way he tilted his head, you knew he had heard you.

Did he know you were going to come looking for him? Some part of yourself hoped so.

You took a deep breath as you started to walk up the creaky stairs. You figured that he would either kill you, or spare you. And you hoped and prayed to whatever god was out there that he would do the later.

Maybe dying by Michael's hands wouldn't be so bad, though. Your life wasn't too interesting anyway.

When you finally reached the top of the stairs, you were shocked that he hadn't moved an inch and that the once barley five-foot boy was now towering above you.

You debated on if you should touch him or not, not wanting to make him upset or uncomfortable. There was only one thing you could bring yourself to say.

"So, how have you been?" Internally screaming was the only thing going through your thoughtless little brain.

He didn't say anything, he just stood there, and the only thing you could hear was his breathing through his white, blood spattered, mask.

"Do you know who I am?" You spoke, wondering if he even remembered you, for the last time he had seen you, you were a nerdy kid with braces.

Realistically, the braces were your worst look yet. The awkwardness in you never left, it seems. Because the next thing you said was, "You got...taller."

Admittedly, making small talk with a serial killer wasn't your best attribute. But nonetheless, you continued to try.

"I tried to come and see you, but they wouldn't let me," you shuffled around uncomfortably, this staring contest wasn't too fun.

Although the man hasn't said anything, his heavy breathing was oddly comforting. That's when you decided to take one for the team.

"Can I see your face?"

Michael grunted, seeming uncomfortable with that idea. You back tracked, immediately apologizing profusely, scrambling to hypothetically save your life.

The last thing you wanted to do was piss him off.

"How about a hug?" You gave an awkward smile and outstretched your arms.

You could vaguely see Michael roll his eyes under his mask in the pitch black darkness that surrounded you guys.

"My bad."

And you didn't stop there.

"Well, I like your mask," you offered a sheepish smile.

You didn't know why you were so infatuated with trying to make him talk. "Okay, I know I'm probably being really annoying but I missed you Michael, truly.

That's when Michael finally moved, tilting his head to the side again at that. His fingers twitched, like he was going to reach for you; to kill you or what, you had no idea.

But to your udder surprise, his hand gently wrapped around your wrist. You just stood there, eyes ever so slightly widening at his touch.

Holding your tears back, at finally being close to your best friend again after what seemed like forever, was actually quite hard.

"Michael?" You whispered, like a secret.

His hands were cold and rough, covered in blood and dirt, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You took a step towards him, nearly face to torso with him.

If Michael was a talkative man, he might've admitted that it was kind of adorable. You had always been shorter than him.

Out stretching your arm, you gently placed your hand on the cheek of his mask, your heart melting as he leaned into your warm touch. Unbeknownst to you, he missed you just as much as you missed him; if not more.

Maybe..

Just maybe you could over look the multiple instances of manslaughter for Michael Myers. As long as it wasn't your body hitting the floor.

You stared up at him for a second, before his hands wrapped themselves around your waist. The quick motion of him pulling you into a bone-crushing hug had caught you off guard.

You could only stand there for a second before your mind caught up with your body and you clung onto him so tightly, you could feel the blood rushing around your head.

"Fuck, is this really happening?" You whispered to yourself, one of Michael's hands cupped your cheek, tilting your head up towards him.

His other hand made its way up your back and to the mask on his head, albeit hesitantly.

"Michael," you whispered his name for the hundredth time that night. But this time, your tone was different. It almost sounded if you were begging.

Begging for what? He wasn't sure and neither were you.

The fact that you were this close to your best friend again made your thoughts run at a hundred miles an hour.

Perhaps he was thinking the same thing you were too because quickly, before he could talk himself out of it, he removed his mask.

All you could do was stare up at him in awe, and honestly, 25 year old Michael Myers was beautiful.

You were both breathless in this moment. Staring at each other in fascination after 15 years, it feels like a dream.

Before your mind could even process what your body was doing, you stood up on your tippy toes and when you realized you still couldn't reach his lips, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down.

And with that, your lips finally met.

His breath left his body, but his mouth immediately latched onto yours, his hands coming up to your face to pull you in as close as he can.

This went against every rule Michael had made for himself and kissing a homicidal killer wasn't exactly apart of your moral compass, but neither of you seemed to care as the kiss intensified.

The gasp you released when his hand started to descend your body, had him hooked.

15 years ago, the two of you were sitting in his room, listening to AC/DC and Kiss, but now?

You simply couldn't get enough of each other now.

The desperate grabbing coming from both of you was almost too much. Too much and not enough at the same time.

Michael's hands moved to rest on your ass, trying to pull you even closer, if that was possible. The sound you let out was almost unrealistic to Michael's ears, making him grunt against your lips, earning a whimper from your writhing form.

Deciding you wanted more, you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his hips, his hands darting under your thighs to keep you from falling. He held you as if you weighed nothing. Honestly though, to him, you probably did.

The way he grew out over the years made you salivate.

Michael walked the two of you to his old bedroom, sitting you on your feet. You took a brief second to look around the room. There wasn't any furniture, the only thing you could make out in the dark was several empty cans of beer and a pile of blankets.

Michael's mouth didn't stop moving, though. He made his way down to your chest, ripping your shirt off quite roughly, making you let our a series of whimpers.

This was happening and it was happening fast. But you loved every second of it.

The feeling of his hands all over your body was enough to leave you shaking and wanting more. Michael seemed to be shaking himself, as well.

Michael took a step back, admiring your bare chest. He lifted his hand, but hesitated. "Michael," you started, taking his hand and placing it on your chest. "You can touch me," you reassured him and that was all he needed.

Michael's breath shuddered as he trailed his bloody hands down your chest to somewhere lower. Both of you shook in anticipation.

You threw your head back and let out a breathy sigh when his hand finally reached your zipper of your pants. But his hand stopped, making you look back up at him.

"Mikey?" He simply tilted his head and you understand immediately, nodding your head with a soft smile on your face, answering him.

He pulled your pants down, just enough to where they'd fall down the rest of the way. You stepped out of them, kicking them to a random corner of the room.

You shuddered, it was pretty cold in here. Michael's coveralls followed suit, leaving both of you gripping each other harder for just a bit of warmth.

"Michael please," you begged in the same tone as before. "I need you so bad," you breathed out, growing slightly impatient. He only grunted, not moving any faster at all.

He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your underwear and pulled them down, the area where you needed him the most was now exposed.

"Michael," your voice was firm now, still the begging tone is ever present, making Michael snicker like an asshole.

Your eyebrows raised, deciding to do something about the situation, and dropped to your knees in front of him. Michael's breath hitched entirely, completely losing his train of thought, his hands making their way to hold onto the strands of hair at the back of your head, causing your eyes to cloud over.

You pulled down his boxers, the size of him made your eyes go wide. He was big, much bigger than anyone you had ever had before.

Your mouth watered at the sight, your hands grabbing his thick thighs was the only thing keeping your mind on track. Knowing Michael was watching you, was the only thing keeping you going.

Taking the tip into your mouth, the pornographic sound he had let out had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and him gripping the strands of your hair so tightly had your eyes starting to water.

You began to leave kitten licks at the top of his shaft, paying extra attention to the vein on the underside of his dick. His breathing was erratic, his chest heaving up and down.

Then, you put as much of him in your mouth as you possibly could, using your hands to jerk off the remaining of his length.

Bobbing your head as low and as fast as you could go, you took his hands into yours and brought them to each side of your head, encouraging him to fuck your face.

And he did just that. He didn't hesitate to use you like you were nothing more than a mere fuck toy.

Letting Michael Fucking Myers have his way with your mouth was something you never knew you needed until now.

Michael toward over you, the grip he had on your head was nearly skull-crushing, but the loud, almost animalistic moans coming from his mouth made up for it.

You could feel everything, so when you felt him pulsating, and his thrusts getting sloppier, you pulled off and away from his dick.

"Fuck!" Michael groaned loudly.

It scared you, his sudden outburst. You jumped back, only to be pulled up by Michael. His once soft demeanor was replaced with an angry looking one.

At the startled look in your eyes, his own slightly softened at you. But the grip he had on you doesn't. And he lifts you up to kiss him again.

Once again, you wrap your legs around his waist, this time both of your bodies were bare. Michael slipped his dick in almost unnoticeably, if it weren't for the fact that he was so deep inside of you.

Your head thrown back in ecstasy, your eyes clamped shut like a vice, but he slows himself enough to let you adjust to his, much bigger than average, size.

The way he filled you up was something you could've only dreamt of. The feeling drove you absolutely crazy and he hadn't even started moving yet. You let out a sigh of content.

"Michael," you gasped when he lifted you off his long length, only for him to push you back down, almost experimentally. He did it again, but this time instead of looking at your face, he lowered his gaze to where your bodies connected.

The gasp he let out seemed so unreal to you. Michael had to pause entirely to regather himself before he continued. He shuffled a bit, leaning against the wall and planting his feet on the ground. And thrusted up into you so hard that your breath left your body, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your head lolled from side to side as he pounded into you. The grip he had on your hips was surely going to leave dark colored bruises. And the fact that you knew he was going to leave marks on you made your entire body throb. The pleasure you're receiving is intense. You were whimpering so viciously.

You cried out when he slowed, making him grunt and glare at you, gripping your hips harder. You could feel the knot in your stomach gradually getting tighter and tighter, but you needed more.

"Please," you found yourself begging, once again. "Please go faster," you stammered. At this, Michael stopped his movement all together, nearly causing tears to slip down your cheeks.

"Why'd you stop?" You asked in a small voice, only half expecting him to answer you. His eyes seemed to darken.

With one of his hands, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back, getting a full view of your neck. And he wanted nothing more than to leave it littered with deep purple and red marks.

He attached his mouth to your neck, harshly sucking and nipping at the soft flesh. You let out moan, tingles going through your entire body as he found your sweet spot.

"Fuck Mikey, please" you moaned out his name. Michael spun the two of you around, pushing your bare back against the paint chipped wall. He grabbed one of your legs, pulling it up higher on his waist to get a deeper angle.

He pulled your body up, leaving only his tip in, and it almost hurt when he slammed your hips back down on his. He used so much force, that the wall behind you shook.

This house wasn't built for the type of fun you and Michael were having. And you were almost certain that if Michael didn't stop slamming your body into the wall with each thrust, the wall behind you would simply fall over.

He kept going anyway, completely ignoring the very serious risk of the house collapsing on both of you.

Your hands gripped at his hips. "You feel so fucking good," you whined out, causing Michael to let out a low groan in response. Your nails were digging into his hips, definitely drawing blood.

But the feeling only encouraged him to go impossibly faster and impossibly deeper, hitting every single special spot that you needed him to.

Everything escaladed so quickly, you didn't even remember your thought process when you were first walking up to the house. The only thing that you could even remotely think of was Michael's name and nothing else at all.

With that familiar knot continuing to build in your tummy, you knew you wouldn't last too much longer. You took notice of one of Michael's hands resting against the wall, beside your head. You reached for his wrist with shaky fingers. You guided his hand to your throat and he immediately knew what you wanted from him.

"Yeah?" Was the only thing that came out of his mouth, his raspy voice sending your head into overdrive. His long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around your delicate throat, gradually tightening his grip.

You couldn't help but notice the small quirk of his lips.

Michael continued to fuck you into the wall, one hand on your hip and the other one keeping you pinned to the wall by your neck.

Grasping at the hand around your throat, was the only thing keeping you grounded.

"Michael, I'm close."

He only grunted again, completely ignoring you once more. But by the way his once fast and steady pace was replaced with a sloppy one, you knew he was close, too.

He lets go of your throat long enough for you to gather new air into your lungs.

"Fuck!" Michael cursed again, his orgasm reaching its peak. "Cum in me," you begged, locking your ankles behind his back. His hips only got sloppier. With one more thrust, your orgasm came crushing down.

You've had your fair share of sexual partners, but none of them had made you orgasm this intense. A loud moan escaped your throat, you knew that if anyone was walking by the house, they'd for sure hear your sinful sounds.

Your head nearly hit the wall, but luckily Michael's hand was behind your head in no time, to save you from the concussion. His hips continued moving, working you through your orgasm. Michael was so close, but he held it. He had something else in mind.

Your body was basically burning at the stake, your legs trembling. "Michael," you managed to find your voice, "too much." You gasped out as you felt his fingers brush against your already sensitive clit.

The noise that left your mouth was borderline animalistic. After seeing your reaction, he started abusing your clit, rubbing faster and harder; determined to get you to cum again.

You felt like a waterfall gushing in the middle of the Sahara Desert.

Michael tried to hold on a little longer, but the feeling of you clenching around him tipped him over the edge. And with the way his hands were moving, you came right with him. The feeling of him cumming inside of you was almost unbearable.

Michael let out a loud groan, fucking up into you, riding out both of your orgasms. The tear filling your eyes were rolling down your cheeks. Michael thrusted once more, before stopping his movements completely.

He could hear your heart beat racing. You legs slowly went down to the ground, making sure you weren't going to lose your balance and fall over. Michael slowly slipped out of you, the feeling of being empty nearly made you sob.

Michael's hands moved to your face, wiping your tears. You leaned into his hands before he kissed your red and swollen lips. You smiled into the kiss.

"I missed you," Michael had whispered after he pulled away. This was the most he had said to you and it made your heart swell. "I missed you more," your smile was sheepish and your eyes suddenly couldn't stop watering.

Ignoring the fact that you had just fucked a wanted criminal, you focused on him. You had your best friend back after 15 years.

You were always more morally gray anyway.

And maybe that's why you and Michael had always gotten along so well.