#bosinclair

Aye see what I’m doing here 😉🫵

Ayo what should we call these guys idk bro I might make HCs later idk it depends

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BO SINCLAIR x READER: BELTS

Because of Bo being restrained constantly as a kid he hates the idea of belts

This doesn’t mean he won’t wear belts but it’s very rare and when he does his hands will shake as he tries to buckle it

You’d have to pay really close attention in order to see it and if you did you wouldn’t want him to know you noticed

Bo never learned to deal with his emotions properly so if you try to confront him about it he would 10/10 blow up in your face

If he was born just a generation later he’d probably wear the seatbelt style belts so that he can just click and unclick it but he would still have a hard time getting it through the belt loops

There’s a reason he wears his mechanic coveralls most of the time - no belt required

NEVER ask him if he needs your help putting a belt on! He’s having a hard time buckling by himself do you really think his deep rooted trauma would allow you to do it? This is a good way to get yourself strapped to the chair

At the end of the day you’d have better luck getting him into Lester’s critter pit than getting him to wear a belt

Bo was standing in the door way as you sat on the counter with a hot cup of coffee and a book in your hands. He hadn’t even noticed you as he struggled to get the belt through the loops of his old blue jeans. All of his coveralls were thrown in the wash the previous night which left him no choice but to wear normal pants.

You could tell he was getting ticked off as his brows furrowed and he let out agitated grunts. You’d never seen him so frustrated with anything but you’d also never seen him wear a belt in y’all’s entire relationship since he opted to wear coveralls and the occasional suit. Maybe he just wasn’t as steady handed as you once thought or maybe he was still in a pissy mood over the way things went with the tourists yesterday. Whatever it was, you could tell he was getting madder by the minute and it wouldn’t be long before he made it everyone’s problem. In these moments you knew it was best to mind your own business and to let him do his own thing.

At first, his hands had softly trembled but they began to shake violently as he reached the buckle. That was when you realized this had nothing to do with travelers or unsteady hands, this had everything to do with his childhood, what his mom put him through and how differently she treated each twin.

As you watched him finish with his buckle you sat and wondered whether he was even capable of ever loving you as much as he loved Vincent, even though he always acted as if Vinny was a burden to everyone. The only reason Ambrose is still “inhabited” is because Bo was convinced to do this with his twin, because let’s be honest, we all know Bo isn’t the evil mastermind behind all this. He’s a terrible aim and he sucks at first aid so how could it possibly be his idea. Bo is just the shiny fishing lure drawing them towards the hook, but Vincent? Oh Vincent is an artist who does things on his own time. You think Vince would ever be pressured into anything? Definitely not, but Bo would do anything if you made him think it was his idea. It upset you that Bo didn’t have any dreams of his own and it upset you worse when he said his dream was to “help Vincent finish what momma started.” Why couldn’t he do anything for himself? Was it so bad to want your own things?

You quickly flicked your eyes back down to the book as he finally noticed you on the counter. His sight was trained on you as he walked across the kitchen. You finally look up and meet his eyes which still hold traces of anger. Slowly lifting up a cup of coffee, you hold it out towards him hoping he won’t go off. “Good morning, Bo,” you say sweetly as if you hadn’t just seen him riding front seat of the struggle bus.

He looks down at you with a slight scowl as he says, “Y/N, darlin, how long have you been sitting there? You weren’t being some freak by watching me were you?”

Bo Sinclair:

- boi does not give a flying fuck about anyone but himself.

- spends all the time in the auto section in the back of Wal-Mart.

- "bo you don't need oil. You need a whole new truck"🙄

- " what do you mean"?

- No air conditioner, constant leaks, broken mirrors, etc.

- his truck is literally one pot whole away from meeting the lord.

- literally the type of person who would Rip open a bag of cookies and eat it without paying for it. and then just throw the bag on the floor or put it on another shelf.

-"hey babe, dont this knife look cool?"

- eyes down a little kid like they're a disease.

- makes you carry everything. Because he's the type of motherfucker who be like "we don't need a cart, you have a set of hands that work perfectly".

- stingy as fuck with the money.

- " I ain't getting jonesy a dog brush. She can lick herself. Its nature."

- grimaced anytime a child cried.

- would literally confront the mother and tell her to do better with her child🙄 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vincent Sinclair:

- loves the arts and crafts center.

- hands full of yarn, paint, clay, crayons. Stuff is falling all over the floor.

- " Vince why didn't you get a cart!?"

-these damn Sinclair boys and their carts.

- gets everything and anything and throws it I the cart like this motherfucker gonna pay for it.

- garden center

- type of motherfucker to get a bunch of garden supplies and never use it.

- looks at all the knifes. Like bruh🙄

- very flinchy. Anytime a child cries or screams he flinches.

- hangs his head low anytime someone passes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lester sinclair:

- pest control aisle.

- looking at all the raid and bug spray.

- "damn mosquiters, always biting meh damn face n' shit"

- ok then....

- LOOKS. AT. THE. KNIFES.

-"ain't this one cool?? Add it to my collection "

- type of motherfucker to pick his boogers and wipe it on his shirt or a shelf.

- tries to steal a woman's purse. 🙄

- Good luck trying to get this man to go into the hygiene aisle.

- would get a soda and drink it and then throw's the empty bottle into someone else's cart. And then walk away acting clueless when they look at him, like its a reality prank show.

- the woman ringing up everything feels uncomfortable because their getting stared down by Lester.

-"ok, your total is going to be $95.99"

-" damn, y/n. Your expensive "

- bruh🙄 your the one paying. And everything in the cart is his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brahms :

- thinks hes better than everyone else in the facility.

- walks with a pep in his step. (Look at my lemon pepper steppers)

- doesn't make eye contact with anyone.

- literally throws shit across the store.

- just opens a box of food and eats it, getting crumb everywhere like a damn heathen.

- huffs and puffs when he's standing by your side in the makeup aisle.

- sees something cool *throws it in the cart*

- enjoys the garden center.

- Comes back with arms full of different baby plants.

-"Brahms, i-"

- the type of motherfucker you gotta keep an eye on. Cause he disappears fast.

- TOUCHES. EVERYTHING.

- DOESNT KEEP HIS HANDS OFF OF THINGS.

- gotta get him to keep his hands on the cart.

-anytime a child cries he would throw something at it 😂

- would bend down into a child's face and stare at it.

- "damn Brahms, let it breathe. Tf"

- he sees guinea pig food and then sprays rodent/pest control on it. 🙄

- "who the fuck wants rodents in their house" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas:

- confused that there's no human teeth/ organs in Wal-Mart.

- gets mason jars for pickling things.

- "there's no pig eyes here"

- OF COURSE THERE ISNT.

-  tries to make a crying child smile. But ends up scaring it because he's a huge man.

- pickles eggs, pickles sausage, pork rines, pickled everything and anything.

- arts and crafts. Wants to make himself a new mask.

- dumbfounded by all the new technology.

- throws everything and anything in the cart.

- cooking aisle.

- brownies, cookies, cake, ice cream.

- Dude does not say excuse me. He just shoves people aside.

- " damn. Bitch say excuse me!!"

prompt: “are you going to hurt me ___? like something you can’t take back”

warnings: NSFW, typical violence, harsh language, bruising, choking, slapping, hair pulling. kind of a longer fic

-

there you were, bent over a strangers counter, being ruined by a man you’ve known for 20 minutes. “shit, your tight, that boyfriend of yours ever fuck you darlin’ ”. you could practically see the grin on his face as he forced his cock in and out of you. you could care less at the moment because he was right, randy barely ever fucked you. you didnt know why either. was it because your on the heavy size? or is it because he just isn’t into anymore? all you knew is that you felt so fucking good.

the mans hand snaked around your body, rubbing harshly at the most sensitive part if your body. you let out quite the seductive moan and he loved it. smacking your ass hoping to get an even better reaction, growling when you made even more lewd noises. skin to skin contact, moans, and aggression is all you could hear flowing out of his garage.

you were getting close and you knew he was too, you could feel him loose his rhythm. “f- fuck, im gonna cum”. you stuttered out. “shh shh shh, better be quiet before they hear what a slut your being for some dumb hick”. he recalled the words from your friends, with much more venom in his voice. his words made you shiver in embarrassment, knowing how the group would react to a person like him. “go ahead cum for bo darlin’ ”. bo, that name suited him well. you did as you were told, dripping for the greasy mechanic. “look at you, a mess, just for me”. you could feel him twitch inside of you, he gripped you hair, hard. your neck was strained as he dove his tongue into your mouth, covering your moans as he spilt his seed, filling you more than you could hold.

- (time skip until later in the night because im lazy)

you were running. where? the hell if you knew, you wanted out, away. you heard the last scream of your friends. that sent a deafening ring through your head. you stopped, behind a sign of one of the shops in the beginning of town, you could care less about being seen now. everyone you had was gone, randy, jesse… everyone. you had just caught your breath, but then you heard a whistle. for being a simple noise it was extremely horrifying. “where ya at darlin’? come on i ain’t gonna hurt my pretty little slut now am i ?”. this situation really fucking sucked considering your panties were still soaked from his cum dripping out of you all day. you flushed at the thought of earlier that day, are you stupid?? thinking about that right now. thinking about being railed by the man trying to kill you.

you wanted to try something, and holy fuck if it didn’t work. you stood from your current position behind the sign, hands up. “bo? im over here!”. this was so dumb, why would he spare you, huh? because you were a good fuck? you doubted your movements but went along with them. “there you are sugar”. he came around the bend with a sweet smile on his face. he was covered in blood, but what looked like his own due to the injuries covering his tense and sore body. you slowly approached the man, not wanting to startle him. “are you going to hurt me bo? like something you can’t take back”. he chuckled. “no, im not gonna kill ya, i actually wanna keep ya, make ya mine”. you wanted to shutter at his words. make you his? like a pet? why you? “let’s go up to the house, okay”. he sounded very calm as he snaked his arm around your waist to lead you.

bo was on top of you, you were both sprawled out on a rickety old couch. soft hums from him and breathy moans from you. you lost count of how many hickies he was leaving, you were sure you looked like a dalmatian now. you had lost all shame you felt when he pushed you through that door. you heard a car door, but both of you were too deep into the kiss to care. until a large thud and slamming of a door rattled the house. “what the hell vincent!”. bo screamed knowing exactly who it was. vincent seemed scattered and worried. little did you know he was worried bo would be mad about him loosing a victim. although you were the victim he was missing. bo jumped up and took vincent into the connected kitchen. you could hear mumbles but nothing coherent. when you popped your head over the back on the couch they both looked at you, bo with a smirk and vincent with a head tilt.

“hey bo?”. your voice was soft, nervous to make any real noise or to say anything wrong. “what’s up darlin’ ?”. his icy blue eyes staring at you. “you got any floss and a needle?”. you wanted to clean him up, and you already knew how to suture cuts because of randy. he had gotten into one too many fights. “yea i think, why ?”. while vincent was still confused as to why you were here bo had moved closer to you waiting for a response. “well theres a couple deep cuts on you and those can get extremely infected without being closed and i can stitch you up real nice”. you smiled and it looked like he was about to melt. Bo had never really had anyone who wanted to help him, other than Vincent of course.

Vincent reached around to his back pocket and pulled out a small pill bottle, he walked over and handed it to you. Pointing and making a small grunt to tell you to open it. There inside sat a needle and green thread. you looked up at him and thanked him. he nodded and walked off to what you assumed was a basement. you had turned to bo and he was already seated at the dinner table, which was placed in the kitchen. you walked over to the sink, feeling bo’s eyes never leave your body, and turned on the hot water.

-

You were curled up in a pathetic ball on the sofa, your tired eyes drifting closed as each flash and blare of the late night TV show weakened your resolve to stay awake.

He had promised he would be back tonight, at least at a slightly reasonable time and not completely sodden with whiskey for your big anniversary dinner.

The food you'd prepared had long gone cold, and the beautiful burgundy lingerie that complimented your skin so well underneath your clothes felt scratchy now, a painful reminder of your attempts at an evening.

With your resentment growing with each tick of the clock, you felt a simmering pot of anger begin to tip over in your stomach.

Pointless, pointless, pointless.

When flipping channels became too mindless you gave up, dragging your body worn upstairs into the empty bed, crying silently into the sheets once you had finally given up hope, smearing mascara over your pillow in regret at your futile attempts to coach romance out of your idiotic drunken mess of a man.

When you awoke Bo was in bed beside you, slumped on his back snoring, his trousers half off, hanging haphazardly off his legs as he had obviously drunkenly passed out before he had managed the final step.

You scoffed, pulling yourself up and mooching into the kitchen to make yourself coffee, barely managing to dredge up a smile for poor Vincent.

"Make me one while you're at it love," Bo grunted from behind you, rubbing his eyes as he woke up.

You smelt the searing stench of whiskey that still clung to him, and almost felt your heart stop when you got a whiff of women's perfume.

He wouldn't dare.

Something buried deep in your body snapped, a desperation to hurt him, to lash out and to make him feel a fraction of the way you felt rose to the surface and jealously reared it's ugly head.

"No," you snapped, turning around to glare at him, clutching your mug in one hand and resisting the urge to throw the scalding liquid in his face.

He looked taken aback at your seething anger, moving to cup your face in his large hand.

"What's wrong sweetheart? Not your time of the month is it?" He snickered, still pushing at what he thought was your playful frustration.

You sniffed, pushing his grip off your cheek.

"No, you bloody ape. Just get off me. I don't want to look at your fucking face,"

Your outburst was a shock to all the brothers,

Vincent who had hidden himself from sight as soon as you snapped, Lester who had come in the kitchen unawares and especially Bo.

Your patience and gentle demeanour you always showed towards him had vanished in your bitter hurt and he wondered why the biting harsh words you'd said made his stomach ache with sadness.

You never swore when you were angry, you never lashed out like that preferring to deal with things diplomatically and sensibly, teasing his temperamental anger.

You went to hang out with Vincent in the basement to calm down, still nursing your coffee, though it did nothing to soothe the pounding of adrenaline in your ears.

You didn't particularly like what he did, but it was quiet down there and cool, and you could watch him work in silence, no expectation of stilted conversation. He was too shy for that.

Vincent didn't mind, he enjoyed your company in a strange way, in solitude you two had bonded although you didn't get much of it.

You had assumed Bo was off sulking, or consorting with whatever sleazy woman he had picked up at the bar and jumped when you heard his loud voice bouncing of the stairway walls, shouting for you to "come up this instant and stop messing 'im about,"

You weren't over the moon about it, but you came up, blood boiling in your ears, knowing that disobeying him would not be wise, especially in his volatile mood.

"Look whatever I did, I'm sorry okay? I don't like you shouting at me. Let's go back to normal," he said, his eyebrows furrowing as an almost pout graced his chapped lips.

He cupped your chin softly, thumbing your lip gently with a coarse finger.

You felt your traitorous body react without you consent and you leaned in to his gentler touch.

It was only when the thought of his rough hands on a bottle, on someone else, cupping another's chin with a frightening tenderness did your mood sour and you gut wrench.

"You couldn't even make it home for our dinner," you whispered, afraid to break the silence with your voice and his frown deepened, a wave of confusion sweeping his features.

"I reminded you so many times, I even WARNED you this would happen and still, you go out drinking. I'm sat at home with a fuckin' lovely meal cooked for you while you're out with whores. I look like a damn fool Bo," You were met with silence, as the cogs slowly turned in his head.

He huffed, letting your face go as he shook his arms around.

"So I missed a dinner baby, we'll do it again tonight,"

"Worst thing is, you don't even remember it was our anniversary," He paled a little as you carried on with your speech, ranting to him about how upset you were as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes searching your face guiltly. 

"I didn't mean to baby, I'll make it up to you, I promise," he leered, a arm moving to snake around your waist and his puckered lips coming up to meet your neck, pressing gentle kisses as the hand resting at your waist squeezed your hip.

"Get off Bo," you snarled, shrugging him off.

"I don't want to fuck you right now. Belive it or not you can't have a fuckin' relationship just based on lust,"You said, your voice steadily rising in frustration. You tried to calm down as best as you could , spotting Vincent scurrying away from the conflict out the corner of your eye.

"Could have fooled me," he muttered and you scoffed indignantly.

"What the hell do you want me to do then? I forgot alright? I'm human," He scoffed, his fists clenching as waves of anger seemed to roll off him, making your anxiety spike.

It scared you when he got like this, his anger was unparalleled, and while you hoped he would never hurt you, he was dangerous.

"You love me right Bo?" You whispered, watching as his jaw tightened in frustration and he stepped further away from you in reflex.

The echoing silence that followed was answer enough and you swallowed the aching tears that burned at the back of your throat.

You turned on your heel away from him, striding out of your house and into the town of Ambrose.

You hid yourself in a little alcove of an oak tree by Vincent's museum, you doubted even Lester would find you here and mentally kicked yourself.

You asked the question you knew not to ask, the deeply bottled insecurity that surrounded your crumbling relationship spilling out.

Bo was complicated, and while you told yourself he would have to care for you a little to keep you around, there were days were it felt like he hated you and your stomach would pang with a deep ache that he would never love you like you loved him.

The gentle evening sun hitting your face did little to cheer you up.

"You're blocking my sun," you said, your eyes still fluttered closed as you hoped the tear tracks left on your cheeks weren't obvious to him.

"Y/N.."

"Yeah, yeah I'm not going anywhere I'm just hiding out here for a bit," He grumbled something unintelligible as you got up, too tired to fight with him and too emotionally exhausted to listen to his possessive spiel.

"Where are you going?" His words drifted across the wind towards you as you turned around, sighing.

"I don't know Bo. Alright?"

You tried not to think about how forlorn he looked left in the spot you'd been sat in, and you really tried not to think about how much you wanted to forgive him then, that voice that belonged to insecurities piping up louder this time.

You awoke the next morning to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and frowned in sleepy surprise, shaking the rest of your dreams from your mind.

It was too late for it to be Vincent and feeling around beside you Bo was missing beside you.

"I made you a cup," he said, in a grumbly voice as you stood shocked, having managed to make your way into the kitchen.

He never made you coffee, he always said his tastes like cat piss, but you knew it was just laziness on his part.

"Thanks," you said, taking the mug from him with a moment of hesitation, staring at him in slight disbelief.

The next few days was spent with little kindnesses.

He washed the dishes, he watched a chick flick movie with you, he even let you wear his corduroy jacket with little complaints.

You finally snapped one evening, curled up under his arm. You'd barely spoken about what he'd done, or the uncomfortable revelation you'd uncovered but the air was thick with tension and your heart hurt everytime his eyes trailed to yours.

"why are you being so nice?" It wasn't that Bo treated you horribly but he was never... nice.

You knew you weren't getting the normal boyfriend experience when you got yourself into this mess and you hadn't cared all that much but you wondered if the constant negligence had worn down your standards just a little.

He looked like he'd rather be anyone else as you confronted him but you gave him a stern look, emphasising you WOULD press it if he didn't tell you.

"I want to show you I care for you. 'Am no romantic, but I do love you, I do," He muttered awkwardly, his eyes you loved so much staring up at you, for the first time vacant of all mischief and bitterness.

You felt your heart well up against your will, the caterpillars in your stomach evolving into butterflies as he grinned at you.

Then it hit you, what had sealed it for you, the smell.

The woman's perfume. "W-what about the girl?" You said, your eyes turning up to catch his stare as you caught the sneaking hand stroking your hair in an iron grip.

"What girl?" He scoffed, narrowing his eyes at you in suspicion, as you glared at him.

"The scent on your clothes, I smelt it. Where you with someone else, on our anniversary?" You choked a little when you got it out, wincing in embarrassment at your own emotion.

"That was nothing, darling, I promise you you know I wouldn't do that to your pretty ass. I got you something for our anniversary and I couldn't decide. The stupid woman kept spraying me when I couldn't decide," He muttered and you giggled out of pure relief, watching as he scrambled to pull out a box of perfume, which just so happened to be your favourite.

"I love you too Bo," you squeaked out wrapping your arms around him in a crushing hug.

"Yeah alright sweetheart don't get carried away," he grunted but you saw the hidden upturn of his lips, that he barely concealed from your watchful eyes. P

"Now can I get laid?" He grinned and you smacked his arm reproachfully, though fully intending to give in later that evening.

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HM