Ich tu dir weh - Metalhead Vincent Sinclair X Reader - Pt. 1
Hi. This is for me. This is 100% just to prove to myself that I can do this. Here’s my spiciest Vincent to date and it’s only part one. I broke it into parts because one massive long ass thing gets overwhelming.
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It had been an eventful afternoon for Vincent Sinclair. He’d managed to sneak out of the house without Bo noticing and take one of the spare cars out of town. Bo would have his head later, but if he didn’t get out of Ambrose he was going to completely snap and turn his brothers into the latest additions to the house of wax.
The perfect excuse had come up too, one even Bo couldn’t fault him for. A music festival so close he could hear the bands the night before. As if that couldn’t be any better it was a staggering collection of metal artists.
He found metalheads to be a very accepting group so while normally the mass of humans around him would give him crippling anxiety he felt more like he was surrounded by loving family at their events. When he’d been jostled mask less on accident instead of being the local freak show he was the coolest guy there.
“Brutal” They called him and been the first to compliment him since his mother died. Accepting him as he was with no question other than “What’s your favorite band?”
“Holy shit, Vince?!” Ah, the One. This particular metalhead he’d been seeking had spotted him first shuffling his way through the crowd and were absolutely over the moon to see him. They were the one who’d saved him from the wall of death his first show, they’d recognized him as “baby” as they put it and yanked him from certain bodily harm just as the wall crashed together.
“Where were you last year?!” They opened their arms to him. “Y/N.” He rasped with a stinging smile under his mask. “I missed you!” Someone missing him? That was new. They hugged him tightly and he melted like a bee’s wax candle.
Y/N gave the best hugs, the all enveloping sincere kind where he could feel their heart beating against his chest for a few moments before they pulled apart.
“Oh shit, I must look like a fucking disaster!” They said with a laugh trying to do up their riot of a hairdo. He shook his head, to him they looked like a little messy angel. “Wanna come with me to get ready?” Vincent nodded vigorously. He loved watching them transform from a frumpy mom friend into something kin to the blood god’s avatar on earth. A little face paint and hairspray made a shocking difference.
How they’d talked him into this was beyond him. Probably something to do with how excited they’d been when they asked to paint his face after they’d finished with their’s in the first place or perhaps it was the honey sweet smile he got after acquiescing that kept him leaned up against the bathroom counter.
“Ok, now,” Vincent trembled with bated breath as they took the eyeliner pencil to his already grease paint coated half a face while he held the hair in place over the cicatrix he refused to let them see even now. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, right? This is basically just sketching out what you want. You can clean the lines up later.” They held up a handful of q-tips. “This is where coloring in the lines since kindergarten comes in handy.” He smiled weakly. Not that he wasn’t enjoying being taught the ins and outs of corpse paint, to the contrary, it was more he was liking it too much.
Their hands touching what face he had fearlessly, leaning in so close he could smell the minty scent of their breath, but if they used their grip in his hair to move his head one more time he was going to make a ghastly noise very much against his will or at least that’s what he told himself. He was a gulping squirming mess telling himself that he was doing this for them over and over and not for himself at all.
“I’m giving you a sort of Gorgoroth circa two thousand eight look.” Y/N mumbled cleaning out the area that would be black with the q-tip. “Like lighting punched you right in the face.” His eyebrow rose, that sounded intriguing.
He looked over them as they flitted about doing what needed to be done and felt the blood rise to his cheek. They were stunning. Maybe not by anyone else’s standards according to them, but to him something was so special about Y/N.
“Done!” They chirped moving away before he was ready for them to be all those painful inches farther from him. “You look fucking amazing! I told you that you had the face to pull it off!” They bounced on their toes. “Do you like it?” He couldn’t bare to tell them he couldn’t look in the mirror. His reflection was a caustic thing he avoided like a plague. Vincent gave them a nod and a big smile that tickled him with pinpricks of pain, but was well worth it. .
“Whoa,” Their eyes got big causing him to jerk to attention his smile quickly dropping. Had they seen his ruined side of his face through his hair? “I’ve never seen you smile before.” He heard while trying to pat down the locks hiding the disfigurement. Vincent tilted his head.
“Not to be weird, but you’re…” They fidgeted unable to look at him. “You’re really… You have a beautiful smile. Is that weird to say?” They laughed hoarsely rubbing their arm smearing white paint up and down it. “Of course it is, I’m sorry-”
He gently pressed the tips of two of his fingers to their lips pushing himself off of the counter. Anymore words would make it impossible for him to do what he’d been yearning for since they pulled him out of the pit the first time they met. Vincent cupped their cheeks and stooped down pressing his painted lips to theirs. It was like someone dumped one of the kettles of wax on his naked body. White hot emotion that was nearly painful washed over him making his eye roll back in his head. He whimpered into their mouth and they shivered against him reaching up to tangle their fingers in his hair as the kiss deepened.
He couldn’t help himself as they pulled him closer. His hand moved to their neck while he unabashedly moaned into their mouth while his back arched. They broke apart for air as Y/N’s back hit the wall. “The door.” They whispered. “The door, get the door.” Door? It took him a moment to get enough blood back into his brain to understand. He stumbled back pulling them along with him to elbow the press lock shut while Y/N fastened the bolt lock.
