Slashers x reader one-shots {Book 1}

Vincent Sinclair x Insecure! Scarred! reader <3

Requested by: FoxyZeGeekGamer 

Just a little spin on things, hope you didn't mind ^^

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     {Female reader}

           I inhaled a cold breath of fresh air, and sat in a plastic chair that rested on their porch. When I mean their, I mean the brothers. Bo and Vincent.

I met them under dire circumstances, I was escaping from the clutches of an abusive (boyfriend/girlfriend) and ended up here. An abandoned town; filled with the carcasses of wax people.

    I shuddered at the thought, surprisingly not about the wax figures, but about my (boyfriend/girlfriend). I still remember (his/her) manipulative ways, the way (he/she) would make me fall in love with (him/her). And the way (he/she) would use that to hurt me.

My fingers wavered over to my neck, recalling the moment where (calloused/soft) hands wrapped around it. As if embedded in my head, I could vividly remember the day where I ran off with scars on my body.

(He/She) simply went too far.

I was beaten black and blue, even once the brothers took care of me they couldn't tell what my skin color was through all of the green and purple colors, until I healed afterwards though.

A distinct scar was on my chest, where my ex attacked first. I could've lost a breast or gotten it deformed if I didn't dodge it. But it still left a deep scar that started on my collar bone and down to the top of my left breast.

My arms got the worst of it, cuts and snippets of my skin littered up and down my arms. (He/She) even burnt me with their lighter on my arms. And its still there...

I have no idea, or have a reason to hide my scars from the boys. But I feel like I needed to.

Hell, they were the ones who wrapped me up and rose me back to my feet. So why do I feel impulsed to hide? To hide the ugly scarring on my arms? To hide myself?

I mean, I feel like Vincent has it worse than me. Half of his face is gone and he hides it by burning wax on his face to make a mask. So why in the hell do I fell so insecure? When somebody has it worse off than me?

Why am I so damn selfish?

I wiped away the tears that made their way down my cheeks, my gaze continued to stare at the abandoned town. Then it wavered at the memory of my scar-less body, my clean body. My beautiful body.

I looked down at my outfit, long-sleeves and baggy pants with slippers. What happened to my taste? I used to dress so beautifully...

A rough hum snapped me out of my thoughts, I wiped my eyes with my sleeves and looked over at the tall burly man who stood at the door frame. Watching me silently.

"Hey, Vincent," I exhaled heavily and tried to cover up my negative mood, "does burgers and macaroni sound good for tonight?"

He cocked his head to the side, the waxy mask that adorned his face held this plain look. I saw his one existent eye do a look over at me, before staring at me in the eyes. It's as if he wants me to talk.

"Or do you want something else?" I pulled myself out of the chair and tugged my pants up higher on my waist. 

Vincent took dominant steps towards me before reaching up to touch my red cheeks. He tapped his fingers on them. I could feel the wax he recently used clinging on the tips of his fingers.