After watching House of Wax I had to write something. Maybe I'll write more, but I need to think of ideas
Sinclair x Reader with a scar
Let's be honest, at the same time that he is attentive, he doesn't pay close attention to details.
Like, of course he noticed the way you stood with one side turned to him or how you shunned away from touches or how your smile was more nervous. But at first he didn't think of it much, more concentrated on plans they had for you and your friends. Anyone would be anxious about getting lost in the middle of nowhere with broken car. Nothing special.
But some time after Bo got the message from Lester about you. How you were softer than your so-called friends with their rude and offensive jokes. How you were almost shy, not looking straight into the face of others. How you were just different. Bo thought Lester went soft and was too fixated to find someone for his brothers. Like they needed it.
But when he left the group to 'finish his business before helping the group', he started noticing it, watching you from the shadows. How you stood more to the side. How the whispers of others made you fix your hair and hide yourself behind it. Bo suddenly understood that he really didn't see one side of your face. He realised what his younger brother was talking about. And he wanted to know what was going on.
His plans were slowly changing.
You were really softer than others. You were kinder. Also this friendship wasn't very strong. You were naive to the point where you believed him when he said that he didn't know where your friend went. And that was why it was so easy to detach you from your group.
He didn't even have to grab you with force or use the chair. Sinclair just lured you back to the garage and to the basement, saying something about getting the tools he needed for the car. You had to look around the basement one time before you turned around in panic.
The scar, that was on the side of your face. It was faded, pale, but he could see it clearly, from your cheek, spreading through the corner of your eye and to the forehead.
Scars weren't rarity, especially not to him, not to his family. It was everything that he saw in you, besides the traces of something bad, that made him anxious. Even if he grew numb to feelings of the visitors, this was way too... Way too reminiscing of his brother that was victim of stupidity and rudeness of others. Way too reminiscing of his own faults and bad things. And the way you always covered it, hid it, muttering some apologies while at it... Like you were in fault of others stares or discomfort.
It seemed that now you too became more scared of the fact that he saw your face, than of the whole situation around. You immediately pushed hair to your face, but this movement made Bo snap out of his thoughts. In a moment he crossed the gap between you and grabbed your hair, tilting your head back. You shut your eyes, instinctively grabbing his shoulder.
If I see one more time that you try to cover it, I will cut your hair and tie you down, understood, babydoll?
You opened your eyes and looked at him. Something inside his rotten chest shivered at the mix of concern, surprise and something warm, like a glint of hope in your eyes. He slowly let go of your hair, putting a hand on your neck. Bo didn't choke you, but put enough pressure for you to stumble back under his persistence. Only when you sat on the chair he stopped, looming over you, but making no attempt in tying you down. Some voice in his head told him he had enough of seeing traces of pain on you.
Now be a good person and sit right here. Don't you dare go somewhere or try and find a way out. I will lock you up here and come for you later. Before that sit still. I know that you can do that for me without me forcing ya, right? You better not disappoint me, darlin.
He was afar. Like always. Watching from the shadows, ideas of future scenes and clothes for sculptures and other things already playing in his head.
Bo's show always let him make up his mind of who would go where at the house. One by one, it didn't matter to him how people would go down. He almost had a list in his mind, that he mentally checked.
You were one of the figures he placed on the scene in his mind. It didn't matter that he didn't see you up close, the wax would cover every flaw there was.
But Sinclair was more attentive than his brothers. Immediately he noticed your body language. Tensed up, trying to be smaller than others, with one side always hiding from sight. With a hood on, even if it was hot summer in the street. How you didn't look at others, how your laughter was almost strained. Some of it he had seen in his brothers since they were kids and that's how he knew that something was wrong. He had to know what exactly, so he could make a great scene. He wanted to make you a perfect doll.
Vincent got distracted by his chores for some time. One by one new 'canvas' got into his basement, whether by his own hands or by help of Bo. But as his twin got busy with one of others victims, he remembered your figure. And the screams of someone his brother had tied to his chair not so long ago.
He had his own secret path to the basement of the garage. Bo didn't have to know about this, Vincent let him think that he has some privacy from him, even if it was a mere illusion.
When one of the dark walls moved, you whimpered louder, especially when tall man with a mask covering his face showed up through the gap.
Vincent took in your tied up figure. His mind was still fixated on placing you in the right scene in the House. But something on your tear-streaked face got his full attention.
He went closer to you. With one hand Vincent slowly pushed hair from your wet forehead, opening your face to him. And immediately he froze on his spot.
There was a scar. Near your eye, a nasty one, old scar. It was spread on your cheek and forehead. Paler than your skin, making it hard not to notice, even if he could see the attempts to hide it with the makeup, the residue of powder still lingering on it. More so... It was on the same side of face as his was.
He touched your cheek with the tips of his fingers, feeling the scar. You shivered under his eyes, staring at his expressionless mask. You couldn't know what to expect from him or from this place anymore. Vincent absent-mindedly touched his own mask, looked into your teary eyes and raised his knife, making you squeal in fear.
With one swing he cut the tape on your wrist, then on the other one. He didn't dare to cut the restraints themselves, being too afraid of Bo's reaction. It took him couple of minutes to free you from them. You were shivering the whole time he did all of this, as you couldn't understand what he wanted from you.
Vincent took you to his secret path. He didn't let you walk, obviously, keeping the tape on your mouth and legs. He just threw you over his shoulder, walking with you through the tunnels, filled to the brim with strange mix of emotions and thoughts.
You didn't dare to move, clutching his back as you were bouncing on his shoulder with every step. You were too afraid to try and run away or kick him. Your legs were still tied up, your head was pounding from your hysteria from earlier, and your heart was beating out of your chest.
Finally you found yourself in some kind of a workshop, and you couldn't help but feel panic rush over you again. He was definitely going to kill you, you were sure of it.
Vincent dropped you on his bed, turning away from you, looking for something. Frantically you reached for the tape on your legs, pulling it away, trying to set yourself free, panic making you anxiously do at least something.
It took him a minute to notice your actions, he growled something shortly and returned to you instantly. Not listening to your whimpers, he forcefully took your hands in his. In a matter of minutes you were chained up to some pipe.
You struggled against the handcuffs, but the man offered little to no comfort. He grabbed your face with one hand making you freeze in place. He slowly touched your scar, brushing your hair away. Again. And then reached for something on the floor near him.
You heard him shuffling with something, but you couldn't see it behind his figure. Finally Vincent turned and showed you a paper with big, black, bulky letters scribbled on it. They formed simple words.
He noticed you from the start. He may seem like stupid redneck, and he was for the most part carefree, unlike Bo and not a genius, like Vincent was. But he noticed most of the things. Like how you were shy and almost hid from him behind your friends. Or how you smiled at his dark joke. Lester hoped you would go with him.
Your friends stayed behind, deciding to send you with "a creep" and not risk it themselves so his hopes were heard, and you sat next to him in his truck. Lester glanced at you from time to time, chatting about something meaningless. He didn't care that you didn't turn to him fully.
"I always forget that you can smell this in the beginning, got already used to it, y'know." Lester noticed your facial expression and laughed.
"It's fine. I lived with my brother, it was way worse than this, like someone actively was dying there for a year." He laughed at your joke, but still opened his window to let the air in.
"Is your brother with you here?" Lester asked out of pure interest. You were cute, but weird in your own way. He liked it a lot, but deep inside knew what was going to happen anyway.
"No. He left a long time ago, hasn't talked to him in years." You shrugged, looking around his car with a sad smile.
"Oh, sounds like shit." He scowled. Lester couldn't put on sympathetic face for the sake of it, being not too expressive. But you just shrugged it off.
"Don't think about it. He lives his own life now and I honestly think it's... Oh my god, is it a knife?" He glanced at you, noticing your stare at his hip. Lester grinned, licking his lips excitedly.
"Yap. My hunting knife." He took it out, showing it to you. You smiled and reached out to touch it.
"Can I look at it closer?" Lester suddenly noticed blush on your cheek and grinned. He gave the knife to you, glancing at you from time to time, enjoying your enthusiasm.
"This is so awesome... I like the blade, it's so wide." You looked at it with visible joy, turning it from side to side. Lester liked the view more and more with every second. You brushed your hair behind your ear to look closely at the knife and the man finally understood everything.
"Wow, what the hell is up with your face?" Even if this side was still more away from him, he could see the big pale scar very clearly from his spot. You stiffened immediately and lowered your head, hiding your scarred cheek.
"Nothing, sorry..." Your voice immediately grew duller and quieter. You turned away, returning him his knife, all joy of the moment gone.
Lester cursed at himself silently. He didn't want to ruin the mood. Usually he was the one that others laughed at. He was the one at the receiving end of jokes. He wasn't an angel in any way, but he didn't like hurting anyone nice to him. Even if only people close to him were his brothers. But Lester didn't know how to calm you or get your mood up, he wasn't very good with people or emotions. He chewed on his lip a bit and showed his hand to you.
"Tried to fight some dipshit and sliced my finger." Lester turned his most scarred finger to you. "Almost cut it off completely. I whined like a bitch for the whole day" He chuckled. Your face was still tensed, but your eyes softened.
"Does it still hurt?" You asked him quietly, raising your eyes at him.
"Nope. Yours?" He met your eyes, but you shook your head, anxiety slowly lifting from your shoulders. "Good. The other one on my ass though, hurts like shit sometimes."
"On your what?! How did you even..." You exclaimed in surprise, but was cut short when he suddenly hit the breaks.
"Sorry, forgot that this part of the road isn't available. But the town is just behind this corner." He looked over you again. The sudden thought about you was interesting. You were too sincere, too nice, too infatuating. He knew what would happen to you in Ambrose, but something inside of him didn't want it. Neither did he want you to leave. Sinclair climbed out of the car and opened your door, helping you out, while rethinking everything again.
"Thanks a lot. You are a miracle, Lester." You smiled and hesitated for a moment. But before the man could ask what was wrong, you kissed him on the cheek. His heart skipped a beat, watching your smile. You blushed, turning away and putting your hood on, while the man watched you go.
"There is a person, coming in the town for some car part. Please... Don't hurt them." Lester called Bo immediately after you turned the corner.
"The hell? Fucking smell stuck inside your nose so much you stopped thinking?" The reaction of the elder Sinclair was expected.
"I didn't stop thinking. There are other people not so far away from here, these shits are free to go, I'll send the coordinates. But they... They're good. They called me a miracle." The man smiled absent-mindedly, softening his tone. He heard a sigh on the phone.
"You definitely hit your empty stupid head... Fine." Lester scoffed to himself. He knew what tone was working on his brothers exactly. He rarely asked something of them, being the most independent one, and for him to ask something like that... "What they look like?" Lester grinned, starting the car again.
You'll know when you see them. They are perfect.
