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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years

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Melting Wax, Crawling Vines (Vincent Sinclair x Fem!Reader)

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Warnings: knife mention, implied running away

Word Count: 2093

I'm warning y'all now that this is gonna be one of the darkest, if not the darkest, series I've ever written. There will be major trigger warnings later, and if you check out my ao3 you can get a feel for how bad they will be. Otherwise, enjoy!

You stared at the underneath of the hood of your car. Something was wrong, you just didn't know what . Sure, you knew how to change a tire and how to check your oil. You could probably put in a new battery if you really needed to. But when it came to just about everything else, well - You didn't know your ass from your elbows. It didn't help that you didn't necessarily have a tool box in your car. You used to, but you'd taken it out to make space for your move. Yeah, you had just about everything you owned that would fit into your little station wagon packed into it. Except a toolbox. The rest of your belongings was in a truck, which was definitely gonna make it to your new apartment before you did at this rate.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as the Louisiana sun beat down on your neck. It was early July. You thought making the move before the fall started would've been a good decision, and it was one you'd stand by, but you just wished it wasn't so hot . It was early afternoon and the sun was at its highest. You swiped at the sweat on your brow, shut the hood of your car, and went to get the map out of your glove box. You tried to pinpoint where you were, but it was nearly impossible without any nearby towns to use as a landmark. Finally, you realized what you needed to do. Just as the first car you'd seen pass by started coming down the road.

You waved your hand, trying to flag down the blue chevrolet truck that was speeding down the back road. You almost expected it to pass you, but it slowed down to a stop. When it did, the first thing that hit you was the smell. You tried not to make a face of disgust as a man with a dirty face lowered his window to greet you. His driver side door was red, and he grinned out from under a green cap.

"Hi, there. Need a hand?" He asked, and you gave him a grateful smile. He'd stepped out to assess the damage, rubbing his hands together as he came towards your vehicle. You guessed the roadkill in the back was the cause of the smell, and you were too polite to comment. Instead, you told him your name and said,

"I'm having car trouble, but I- Well, I don't really know what's wrong with it." And the man responded with,

"The names Lester," And he paused to give you a friendly grin. "I'll take a look and see if I can figure it out." He said, and you quickly thanked him. You watched as his eyes landed on the things stuffed into your car. "You heading somewhere?" He asked, and you rubbed your neck before you helped him pop open the hood.

"I'm moving, or, at least, trying to." You supplied the name of the town you were moving to, and he gave you a grin as he looked up from where he'd been studying the interior of your vehicle to say,

"Oh, I know that town. About an hour- hour and a half from here?" And you nodded. That'd been your original estimate for your arrival. Now, you were lucky if you made it there today. The two of you chatted politely, but he ended up closing the hood with a click and shaking his head. "I'm sorry, miss, but this is beyond me." He admitted, and you still said,

"Well, thank you for trying. Do you happen to know if there's a tow-truck company nearby- Or a mechanic?" You asked. He stared at you for a moment, and he almost looked hesitant to tell you. He was thumbing his chin, before he finally said,

"There's one about fifteen minutes from here." And you tilted your head. You hadn't seen any towns on your map, let alone one that close. But you weren't one to argue with a local. He continued, saying, "Bo runs the car shop in Ambrose. I can take you if you want." And gratitude filled you. While you knew he was a strange man, you weren't exactly in the position to deny the kindness of strangers. Plus, Lester seemed harmless, even if you knew from experience that you weren't always the best judge of characters. Still, you reminded yourself that it was either hitch a ride with him or wait for the next car to come along. If any did come along . So, you pushed away any potential paranoia and asked,

"Are you sure? Only if it won't be too much trouble." You said, and you watched the way his grin grew wider and wider.

"No trouble at all, miss." And that was all it took for you to pile into Lesters truck. You brought a backpack of yours, and filled it with your wallet, a water, and a change of clothes with all your toiletries. You figured, worse case scenario, you ended up renting a night at whatever motel Ambrose held while Bo, the man Lester had mentioned, tried to fix whatever was wrong with your car. You’d made sure to lock it, hoping that no one would strip or break into your car.

The smell was stronger in his truck, but you did your best to ignore it. You figured it would be impolite to mention it, and even moreso to ask him to roll down the windows. Lester wasn't one for silences, and he asked,

"So, why you moving out here anyways?" He asked, and you thought that was a fair question to ask. You were from a more populated city, and your new town was nowhere near as crowded. You pushed your hair behind your ear, and supplied,

"Oh, new job." And Lester was quick to ask before you could elaborate.

"Oh, congratulations. What do ya do?" And you gave him a smile. He was friendly and sweet, albeit a little rough around the edges. He was one of the friendlier people you'd met, and you figured your new town would be just swell if it had more people like him.

"I'm a teacher. I teach ASL." You told him, answering what you guessed his next question was going to be before he had the chance to ask. When he turned to look at you, a small bit of confusion on his face, you were quick to say, "American sign language." And clarity washed through his face.

"Oh, why they need a- an ASL teacher over there?" He asked, and you played with the edge of your jeans. You knew about the job description, but you didn't want to tell him that you'd jumped at the first opportunity you saw to fill a position. Hoped for something as far from your hometown as possible. As far away from- You stopped that train of thought. You didn't want to think about him . This was supposed to be a new start, and instead you told him,

"I'm teaching some older students as a night class," By older students, you meant adults. "And then some kindergarten students." And you watched as a laugh escaped his lips. He slapped his hand against the steering wheel, before he said,

"What do kindergartners need to know about sign language?" And you bit your lip. You felt as thought you'd given this talk about a thousand times before, but it didn't stop you before you said,

"Well, some of the kids are deaf, but some of them may just be nonverbal. This is a way for them to communicate when speaking feels like too much. And the night classes are for their parents, I'm assuming, so they can understand their kids. It's important, y'know, for them to have a way to express themselves, even if it's different from how most people do it. Some kids are just special cases." You explained it kindly with a shrug. Surely, it seemed obvious to you, but you were well aware that not everyone knew how useful the skill could be. He made a face, one where he nodded and jut out his lip. He rubbed his chin again, before he asked,

"Nonverbal, huh? Like mute?" He asked, and you gave him a nod. He nodded back, before looking out the windshield. "Sign language for mute kids. Express themselves. Huh." The truck was only silent for a beat. “You get lots of special cases?” He asked, and you couldn’t stop the smile that graced your lips.

"I specialize in special cases." You joked, and Lester was quick to laugh. He made a little hoot, seeming pleasantly surprised by your willingness to joke or perhaps by how comfortable you seemed with him. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the company of your new friend. Even if he wasn't from the town you were headed, it would be nice to know at least one person nearby. You'd started looking all around the truck, before your eyes fell on the man besides you. it'd been a quick glance over, getting a good look at him. You hadn't noticed it before, but you saw a knife on his hip when he lifted his shirt to mop at the sweat on the back of his neck. You'd barely glanced at it for a second before your eyes were being ripped away by his voice.

"You like knives?" He said, a tone of excitement in his voice. "Tools of the trade. You wanna see it?" And you agreed. He pulled it out, flashing the blade to you and said, "That's a bowie. Cut through anything." He said, and you agreed with a nod. To make conversation, you reached into your boot and pulled out a small pocket knife. It was much smaller compared to his, and you said,

"All I got is this, but it does the trick." And Lester let out a low whistle. He sheathed his knife back its holder, and you offered it out to him for him to examine. He pressed the button, letting the blade switch out. He looked it over. It was small and thin, but, as you said, it did the trick with most things.

"Didn't peg you as the type. What does a teacher need with a knife?" He asked as he passed it back to you, and you pushed the blade away as you answered.

"Oh, y'know, cutting up all the apples my students give me." You said, joking lightly. Lester grinned again, and you tucked your knife back into your boot. Again, you didn't want to actually get into why you had the knife with him. It was a layer of protection, something to make you feel safe. And, after the past couple of years, you weren't going to deny yourself anything extra to do that. He stopped the car, and you looked up to look around where you were. He had stopped seemingly in the middle of nowhere, right in front of a small creek. "Why- why'd we stop?" You asked him, and, for a moment, a flash of alarm rang through your head. You'd never been the best judge of character, and, for a moment, you were worried that you'd gotten yourself into another sticky situation. The same type of situation as to why you slept with that very knife under your pillow, why you'd decided to leave town- But Lester was as nonchalant as could be as he opened the door and stepped out. He said,

"Oh, I gotta flip my hubs into four wheel. You just sit tight, y'hear?" And the alarm inside your head faded. You slumped a bit, a wave of relief washing through you. He was looking at you, his hand on the door. You looked at him, the creek, and then back to him before you offered,

"You need any help?" And that same grin came over his face at your offer. He braced his arm against the open doorway as he asked,

"You know how to change a hub?" And you supposed that his skepticism was warranted. He did find you on the side of the road with a car that wasn't working. Still, you gave him a smile and sassed him just the tiniest bit as you said,

"I'm sure I can figure it out." Earning a smirk and swipe of his cheek from the man. He motioned for you to get out, and said,

"Alright then. Lemme get that door for you."

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #mwcv #slashers

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