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kkpwnall · 6 months

Text

if it wasn’t for bad luck i wouldn’t have luck at all

part two | rated t | 4k words [ part one ]

all my thanks and love for @fragilecapric0rnn for beta reading again. thanks for your help, and for kindly correcting my silly mistakes 💜

Eddie catches all the not-so-subtle winks Dustin throws him every time one of the kids wheedles details about the next campaign out of him, or Robin gets him going on government conspiracy theories, or Steve cracks him up with a bitchy remark.

The kid’s about as subtle as a train full of cowbells crashing into a packed clown car.

But he makes it seem so easy, to just… be their friend. Too easy. As if Eddie doesn’t have a lifetime of reasons not to.

Against his better judgment, slowly but surely, they’re eroding his finely-honed walls. Growing like moss, like ivy between the cracks.

The kids barge in one day arguing at full volume. Steve trudges in behind them and drops into the crummy plastic chair closest to Eddie’s bed, the one usually occupied by Wayne or Dustin. Well, when Dustin’s not going toe to broken toe with his friends over—

“We can’t split the party under these conditions!”

[ keep reading below, or read on ao3 ]

Steve heaves a ragged sigh, and Eddie watches as if entranced by the complicated movements of Steve’s fingers as he alternates pinching the bridge of his nose and massaging over his eyes.

He looks wrung out. When was the last time he got a decent night’s sleep?

“So someone has to pull double duty. We’ll draw straws and rotate every week,” Mike says, like he’s being the pinnacle of reasonableness. Whatever it is, Eddie’s sure he isn’t.

“That’s not fair! We should just pull someone off and make them exempt. Like Nancy or El, someone we need on more useful things.”

“What the hell are you little gargoyles arguing about?” Eddie reaches for his DM baritone and comes up short. Maybe his diaphragm got rearranged with all the rest of his guts.

It still works to cut through the kids’ argument though. Steve shoots him a grateful look.

“We’re trying to decide what everyone in the party would do in the inevitable zombie apocalypse,” Mike hurries to explain.

“Inevitable..?” Eddie glances out the window he can just barely see from his position on the bed.

It’s been weeks since they wasted Vecna, with no sign of his sorry ass returning. No blood and ash raining from the sky, no earthquakes splitting the town apart, and definitely no zombies.

“Yeah, ‘cause see, if we’ve got El on recon, Nancy and Lucas take point with ranged weapons. Argyle’s in charge of foraging and cooking—”

Steve groans and slumps back in the seat as the kids pick up steam again. He’s so dramatic, Eddie can’t help a snort of laughter he covers with a cough. Steve’s got a hand splayed over his face, from his jaw up into his hairline, like he can block out the whole world. Or at least this one conversation.

With hands like that, maybe he can...

“But someone’s gotta stay back and guard the base! And you can’t have one person on watch, what if they fall asleep or get attacked or—”

A stupid little smile curls over Eddie’s lips as he watches Steve out of the corner of his eye while the kids keep arguing.

“We’re thirteen people now, Mike! There’s no way to divide watch shifts evenly between thirteen people and twenty-four hours in a day! Even Holly can do that math!”

Eddie whips around as reality drops on him like a load of every perfidious brick this group has worn down over the past couple weeks.

“What did you just say?”

Dustin gives him a disappointed look, “C’mon, Eddie, I know you of all people can do this math. Thirteen—”

No way. Absolutely not. That cannot possibly be correct. It has to be a mistake. It has to.

Eddie does a headcount, checking them off on his fingers hidden under the thin hospital sheets to double check their math. Someone got counted twice or not at all.

His three Hellfire gremlins plus Lady Applejack and Red. Nancy and Robin and Steve round out the Hawkins crew. Add in Supergirl and Zombie Boy with their whole “saving the world” schtick for an even ten, and now he’s really starting to sweat. Then there’s Jonathan and that guy Argyle. Plus Eddie makes…

“Oh my god, I’ll do it! I’ll be the designated hitter,” Steve half-shouts. The kids just stare at him blankly, and he sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes so hard Eddie’s surprised he doesn’t black out from it. “I’ll take the double shifts in your make believe zombie apocalypse. Happy?”

Steve’s hand, the one that was covering his face, sits warm and heavy over the sheet covering Eddie’s trembling hand. Eddie has no idea how or when it got there, or if Steve even really registers where it’s landed. Not exactly holding his hand, not with the sheet between them, but definitely there. Something to focus on that’s not how he already died and he’s still being fucking haunted by the spectre of his birth.

So no, he’s not happy, and neither are the gremlins. They immediately start shouting over each other to argue with him.

“Out!” Steve starts to rise from the chair, leaning his weight on Eddie’s hand and points at the door with a snap. “Get out! Go bother Max and Lucas with this shit, or I’m not driving your sorry asses back here tomorrow.”

And just like that, Dustin ushers them out, still grumbling and arguing. He shoots Steve a look, but Steve glares him down with a hand on his hip.

The door slams behind them and it’s finally, blissfully quiet.

“Jesus Christ with those kids,” Steve mutters as he reclaims his seat, “It’s like they can’t shut up for five minutes.”

Eddie is silent next to him in the bed, and he’s pretty sure if Steve’s hand wasn’t on his, it’d be shaking. The rest of him is. This clawing, aching, tingling vibration just under his skin. The tremor is coming from inside the house.

He knows better than this, he knows better, what the hell is he thinking.

He needs to stop fooling around and get his act together, or with his luck, there really will be a zombie apocalypse and all of these people will be casualties of it. All because of him.

“Sorry,” Steve says, sheepishly. “This is like, your room. I shouldn’t’ve kicked them out if you wanted them here. You just... you looked like you needed a break.”

“Yeah, I— yeah, it’s fine,” Eddie says on a rough exhale. Takes a steadying inhale. And judging by the bags under Steve’s eyes, “Looks like you could use a break yourself, man.”

“They’ve just been arguing about that stupid zombie apocalypse shit for hours!” Steve throws himself back in the chair and launches into his own rant.

One hand gestures wildly, digging through his hair and underscoring his words, while the other stays where it’s been planted, gently covering Eddie’s. Twitching and flexing occasionally.

He lets Eddie catch his breath. He gives him enough space that Eddie could slip his hand free, could pull away without making a big deal out of it. He has to feel Eddie’s hand by now, he has to. But he doesn’t move away.

Eddie doesn’t move away either.

He doesn’t have a good reason not to. In fact, he’s got nothing but good reasons to pull his hand back and let them both pretend like none of this ever happened.

But Steve’s hand is warm and solid over his, even through the sheet. And where would he put his hand anyway? Where would it go, untethered? If anything, it’d interrupt Steve’s flow, and it really seems like he needs to get all this off his beautifully hairy chest.

“—And they’re acting like it’s such a problem we’ve got an uneven number now!“

“Well they’ve kinda got a point. I mean, with thirteen…” Eddie interjects.

Steve flashes him a broad, cocky smile. “Hey, thirteen’s my lucky number.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie mumbles, mostly to himself.

Steve hears him anyway. “No, I’m serious! It’s been my jersey number since I was a kid. Like even way back when I was just playing tee ball. Oh, and get this! Somehow, all through grade school, I was number thirteen on the roll call list. Every year! I mean, that’s crazy, right?”

No, crazy is being pulled out of hell itself by the sheer force of will and determination of a guy whose lucky number is thirteen.

This is just too ironic for words. It’s bordering on absurd.

But Wayne’s always tried to tell him truth is stranger than fiction.

Eddie keeps his mouth shut with gritted teeth, holding back a laugh. Or maybe a scream. Either would land him in the loony bin, because once he started, he wouldn’t ever stop.

“And anyway, the way I see it, our luck’s never been better.”

That unsticks Eddie’s mouth.

“What?” he sputters. “Steve, three people are dead, Red and Henderson both have broken bones, and you got chewed on by fucking demon bats!”

Steve shrugs his shoulder loosely, like it’s just the price of doing business. “Yeah, but we actually figured out who’s behind all this shit. I mean like, everything, since ‘83. Since Will went missing and Barb... We finally got answers. And we closed all the gates now, for good. He’s gone. It’s over. And we’re all still here.”

Steve’s eyes slowly trace over Eddie’s own slightly mangled body. Over the tubes and wires snaking out between the bandages wrapped around his arms. Over the one taped across his cheek, until he meets Eddie’s eyes through his lashes. “We couldn’t’ve done it without you.”

Eddie doesn’t have a clue what to say to that. To any of it. The only thing he brings to the table are nerdy references and loud music and a penchant for getting anyone close to him killed.

But Steve makes all that sound like a good thing. Like Eddie is a good thing.

If he keeps this up, Eddie might almost start to believe him.

Steve clears his throat and releases Eddie from the trap of his honeyed hazel gaze, but not before Eddie sees the rosy pink color starting to tint his cheeks. The same heat rising over his own face.

“Sorry man, we’re doing a terrible job of letting you get any rest today. The kids came in here arguing, and then I just went off like that. I can go, if you want some peace and quiet,” Steve pushes the chair back, and Eddie’s fingers twitch under his hand.

Yes. “No, you… you can stay. If you want.” Eddie grabs the remote with his free hand and waggles it at him, plasters on a smile. “Let’s just watch some tv. Put on whatever you want.”

Steve doesn’t look quite convinced, but he does scootch his chair back closer to the bed. “No no no, it’s your tv, man. I know Dustin’s always stealing the remote.”

“C’mon, seriously…” Eddie thinks for a moment until he lands on, “What did you watch when you were home sick as a kid?”

“Uh no, absolutely not.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“You’re gonna laugh...”

“Cross my heart,” Eddie says, with all the sincerity he can muster.

Steve raises an eyebrow at him, before he blows out an aggrieved sigh. “Alright, look… when I was little, like real little, like younger than the kids, my mom would set me up on the couch with a big blanket with a hot water bottle… And she’d put on General Hospital.”

Eddie presses his lips shut tight to contain his snort of laughter. It still blows his cheeks out though, and there’s a smile he can’t quite keep in.

Steve glares at him, but there’s no heat behind it.

Eddie shakes his head, grinning, “General Hospital it is.”

They surf the channels for a while but can’t find it playing anywhere. Instead, Eddie lands one of Wayne’s old favorite spaghetti westerns, and starts outlining all the tropes of the genre. But it turns out Steve’s grandpa was just as big a fan, and Steve matches him beat for beat as they roast the stilted dialogue.

Eventually, Steve’s eyelids start to droop. His head drops a few times, before he jerks back up, blinking hard. Eddie keeps talking to him, but softer now. Slower. More and more space between each sentence.

Steve’s breath slows and evens out, his chin tucks into his chest and one arm wraps around his stomach. He falls asleep in that uncomfortable hospital chair with his hand still over Eddie’s.

It’s release day.

It’s finally, finally release day. Marked on his calendar and circled in red. Or it would be, if Eddie had a calendar. He’s never been good at keeping up with those kind of things.

The point is, he’s been counting down to this day for weeks. Weeks. But this is it, today’s the day.

He’s already been denied twice thanks to the government goons.

The first time, he was so out of it on painkillers, he didn’t even realize that maybe he should be taking their questions seriously. That one’s on him for answering everything in character as Samwise Gamgee.

The second time though, he’d bet his remaining guitar on petty revenge. All because he wouldn’t sign their stupid NDA without reading it thoroughly first. Or it could have been his demand for more than a pat on the back from Uncle Sam. Eddie wasn’t about to walk away from this all shit empty handed.

But all that’s settled now. He and Wayne got a modest farmhouse with some land, ready and waiting for them just outside of town. His name’s been cleared and the yokels bought the cover story, hook, line, and sinker. And there’s a stipend coming to a bank account with his name on it every month, as long as he keeps his trap shut. It’s enough that Wayne won’t have to work unless he really wants to.

All the doc has to do is sign his release form, and he’s gone. Eddie is leaving today or so help him—

But it’s not the doctor that comes through the door, or even Wayne.

It’s Steve.

With a “knock knock”, out loud, even as he knocks on the door, peeking around it, and beaming when he sees Eddie.

“Wayne sent me ahead with this,” he drops a hefty duffel bag on the foot of Eddie’s bed. “He and Dustin are just finishing up at the house, they’ll be here any minute.”

Eddie balks a little at that, but Steve chuckles knowingly.

“Don’t worry, Henderson’s leaving with me. I had to bribe him with a trip to the comic book store, but at least it’ll give you and Wayne some time to get settled at the new place.”

“Is it good?” Eddie can’t help but ask. Hates how small it comes out. There’s always a chance the suits decided to screw them over.

Steve answers with one of those soft smiles of his. “Yeah, man. It’s great. You’re gonna love it.”

“Good, good,” Eddie says absentmindedly. He has to tear his eyes away and grab the bag, start rifling through it. All the while trying not to wonder who picked out these clothes and who packed them up and—

“I’ll uh, give you some privacy,” Steve says as Eddie pulls out a heavy red plaid and a pair of sweats.

He pulls the curtain around Eddie’s bed between them, but he doesn’t leave. Instead he asks if Eddie wants the latest (and hopefully last) hospital gossip.

“Uh, duh! I gotta know if Luellen’s made a move yet.”

Eddie wrangles his arms inside the hospital gown and pulls it roughly over his head to throw it in a heap in the corner. Ooo-ing and gasping at all the right moments during Steve’s tales of intrigue.

He has to move slower than he wants to, has to take his time and sit on the edge of the bed, dangling his legs to the floor to shimmy into the sweatpants.

And whoever picked the flannel deserves a goddamn Nobel prize. He’s able to slip it on easily without agitating his remaining stitches or lifting his arms above his head. And once he’s got the buttons done up, it’s loose enough not to snag or cling.

Eddie digs around in the bag again and fishes out a pair of slip-on shoes. They’re not his, not his usual style, and definitely don’t go with this getup. But the worn leather is soft, and at least he doesn’t have to deal with the whole mess of bending over to tie them. Or— god forbid— ask Steve to come over and tie them for him.

That’s an ordeal he’s not sure he’d survive.

Whoever packed this bag is getting a fruit basket.

In a soft purple crown royal bag tucked in on the side, he finds his rings and his necklace, and it makes something in his heart clench. Something slots into place, just by sliding the rings back on his fingers, the pick over his head. Whole, in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Screw the fruit basket, they’re getting a whole goddamn orchard.

Eddie’s been quiet for a long moment, not quite keeping up his end of the storytelling experience.

Steve’s gone quiet too, and Eddie’s not sure how long it’s been since either of them said anything.

On the other side of the curtain, Steve clears his throat, and his sneakers squeak on the tile as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Are you decent?”

Eddie snorts out a laugh. “I’m dressed if that’s what you’re asking.”

He catches the tail end of Steve’s eye roll as he pulls back the curtain. He looks Eddie up and down as he comes around. Smiles softly and gets comfortable on the foot of the bed, one leg folded underneath him.

“Ready to go?”

“You have no idea,” and Eddie has to fight the urge not to throw himself back dramatically on the bed. Damn the stitches.

“Yeah, I don’t blame ya. My longest stay wasn’t even half as long as they’ve kept you, and I was climbing the walls by the end of it.” He rubs unconsciously at the scar running through the edge of his eyebrow.

Eddie does not take his hand and pull it away to soothe the aching memory himself. He doesn’t even think about it, really. Definitely doesn’t have to distract himself with an old habit like sliding his rings off and on his fingers.

“What, unseasoned hospital food doesn’t appease your refined palette?” he teases in a haughty voice.

“If I had to eat one more piece of dry, rubbery chicken…” Steve threatens.

“No way, man, the pork chops are way worse.”

They argue back and forth, ranking the rest of the limited hospital menu on a scale of pudding cups to sawdust, and it’s good, it’s easy.

Until there’s a lull in the conversation, and Steve clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. Sits up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders like he’s psyching himself up.

“Hey so I was thinking… Maybe once you’re all cleared, I can take you out for dinner sometime? I promise it’ll be better than any of this crap.”

Steve looks so earnest, so hopeful, with that confident damn smile curving his lips and his heavy lidded eyes watching Eddie. His hands flex like he wants to reach for him. But he stays still and gives Eddie his space. Must somehow know Eddie would be even more likely to run if he did.

A tight knot of want and can’t claws roughly up Eddie’s throat and he’s pretty sure he stops breathing.

He has to tell him. Knowing Eddie, being friends with Eddie, it’s dangerous. It always has been. He’s let himself indulge in this fantasy for way too long. He has to put a stop to it, now.

It’s more dangerous than Dustin, than Wayne, than Chrissy. Not just a friend but something— someone more.

“Steve…” who Eddie cannot even begin to think about being anything. He won’t.

Eddie Munson is nobody’s happy ending.

“You don’t want— this,” he chickens out at the last second.

Steve’s smile slowly fades and he blinks a few times. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as his head tilts to the side, considering for a moment. “I think you should let me decide what I want.”

And Eddie wants to scream.

This isn’t about you!

But of course, it is. It’s about him, and every single person that’s come before him, and every one that’s sure to come after him, and everything that has and will go wrong.

The words catch in Eddie’s throat, and he can’t say any of them. So he just sits there, frozen and silent and begging Steve to understand.

Steve looks away and lets out a long breath. Not quite a sigh as he shakes his head. He stands and starts heading towards the door.

He turns back before he gets there though, catching Eddie again in his earnest gaze.

“The real question: is what do you want, Eddie?”

And nobody’s asked him that in such a long time. Every day since he woke up in the hospital has been the same. All of his meals are pre-planned and brought at the exact same time, whether he’s hungry or not, whether he likes the food or can even keep it down or not. His schedule, from when to sleep to when to take his meds to when he does physical therapy, has been out of his hands. And then Dustin shows up with whoever he decides to bring with him that day.

Eddie’s been resurrected, but what choice has he really had?

Part of him, this new part of him born from his death and a second chance at life, is just daring him to see how far he can push his newfound luck. To prove once and for all if the curse really is broken.

Eddie’s never said no to a dare.

Steve turns to leave, one hand reaching for the door, and Eddie scrambles to his feet. Takes a few shaky stiff, baby deer steps forward as he calls him back, “Steve—”

He holds Steve’s gaze for an impossibly long moment, tracing the swirls and whorls and questions in his hazel eyes, his freckles and moles and scars.

Go big and go home.

“How about a kiss?” Eddie asks. “For luck?”

Steve’s face morphs through several expressions so fast, Eddie can’t keep track of all of them. He lands on something incredulous, his lips curving upwards in a smirk even as his eyebrows fall and pinch in the middle at the sheer audacity—

But he crosses the room in two swift strides to stand in front of Eddie. Throws a quick glance at the still-shut door, at his mouth, before meeting his eyes again. Eddie barely starts to nod, and Steve’s lips are on his.

His gentle strong hand around Eddie’s elbow reels him in, pulls him closer. Eddie’s lands on his bicep, and the flex of muscle ignites a frisson of sparks under his palm to race through his bloodstream.

Steve’s other hand caresses Eddie’s unblemished cheek. Like he’s something precious. Something to hold onto, something dear.

As far as kisses go, it’s Eddie’s first.

Soft, sure and confident, the kiss is everything Eddie could have ever dreamed of. Hurried— not as in frenzied. Hurried as in greedy. Desperate to steal the breath from his lungs before he’s even noticed it’s missing.

Eddie kisses Steve back with equal fervor, trying to pour everything he has, everything he wants, everything he fears into the movement of his lips, the sweep of his tongue.

Eddie’s hand joins Steve’s on his cheek, keeping him close. An anchor in the tsunami flooding his senses with everything Steve. Cherry lip balm and hairspray, fresh laundry, and the musky hint of sweat underneath it all. It’s intoxicating. Incomparable. Incredible.

And Eddie’s just gonna blame the weeks-long hospital stay for how fast he goes weak at the knees.

Steve’s sure, steady hand in the small of Eddie’s back guides him slowly backwards until his thighs hit the bed again, and he sits hard, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

Eddie reaches for him, eyes wide and staring up at Steve through his lashes, hooking his fingers through his belt loops. Two steps away is too far but Steve wastes no time crowding closer to stand between Eddie’s legs. He gently tips Eddie’s face up with a featherlight touch and kisses him deeply while Eddie holds him firmly by his hips.

Consuming and consumed, devouring and devoured. Wanting and wanted.

When they come up for air, Steve swoops back in, once, twice, and a lingering third time, like he’s reluctant to stop. And Eddie strains his neck to meet him kiss for kiss.

Steve finally pulls away just far enough to sigh breathlessly against his lips, “Is that all you want, Eddie?” His eyes screwed shut tight.

No. Eddie wants everything. For now though, he’ll settle for– “Somebody said something about dinner and movie?”

“Oh so now there’s a movie, huh?” Steve says, but he’s smiling and nudges his nose against Eddie’s.

“Don’t go thinking I’m a cheap date now, sweetheart,” and Eddie’s smiling too. Smiling too much for more than quick kisses that skate across their lips.

With each peck, Eddie schemes how to get Steve’s lips on his again. How to keep him. Keep him safe.

They break apart when the sharp clack-clack of heels echoes down the corridor from Eddie’s room, heralding the doctor’s arrival.

Eddie was born under a bad sign. But maybe here, in this new life, he can make his own luck.

[ also on ao3 ]

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #steveddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things steve #stranger things eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #friday the 13th fic #bad luck fic #kk writes

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callofdudes · 6 months

Text

Don't go there.

Summary: When you and your friends take a summer trip out to the woods you are unaware of just what you've disturbed from it's slumber deep inside.

Cw: Serial Killer Simon, gore, blood, wounds, angst, death, childhood trauma. Mention of dissociation, abuse. Dark themes, animal death, Simon has a bit of a psychotic obsession over you in the end.

Word count: 6.8K+

A/N: Please don't let this flop, I spent way too much time staying up and writing this. So I do apologize for my dry-eye editing mistakes. I didn't want to super edit it all but I worked so hard on this. I was tempted to make the end kinky, but he just really, really likes chasing. Italics means a flashback/something in the past.

"How much longer until we get there??" You asked, looking out the window of the car, seeing the long road of trees. Stretching out for miles deep into the unknown where shadows lingered.

"Shouldn't be much longer." Your friend, Adam replied, checking the gas level in the truck.

You had stopped at a gas station nearly an hour ago. You had been going down this road for almost half an hour with nothing to see for miles.

Two of your other friends sat in the back, distracted by their boredom. You look in the rearview mirror, seeing them making out.

Crystal and Peter couldn't get off each other for five minutes... You had to be in the car with them. Why couldn't you have been with the others following in the car behind you?

You sigh softly in exhaustion, fixing your headphones again.

You all had taken up the opportunity for a summer job out at a camp for the extra money. Having just gotten out of school, you were looking for somewhere to start fresh, away from your parents' clings. And this felt right.

"Hey, looks like we've got something," Adam points out.

You look up, clicking off your phone to see the road split off. An old sign at the crossroads directs you down another road.

"That's the camp's name." You sit up, your whole body feeling relief that you are almost there.

"Thank goodness."

You looked at the backseat, leaning over to gently hit Peter. "Hey, stop it, there are others in the car you two."

"Sorry y/n."

Hah, you knew they weren't. At least you'd be at the camp soon...

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

You arrived at the camp, pulling up on the road to the large cabins just across from a lake spanning out into the thick forest grove.

You got out, stretching your limbs. Hands high above your head, yawning and working your legs.

"Finally."

You grabbed your bags from the car, meeting up with your other two friends Phillip and Stacy, pulling up in the car behind you.

"Geez, I'd have to make that trip every summer." Phillip fixed his hat, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.

"Well, hopefully, the drive back won't be as painful." You playfully glared at Peter and Crystal, taking your bags up the walk to the cabin lodge.

The warm late afternoon sun came through the trees, the breeze blowing softly across the open land. Seeing some of the other campers and counsellors wandering about.

The main office was where you met up with the head counsellor. He smiled upon seeing you. "Y/n, glad you made it."

"Thanks, it was quite the trip."

"Well, we're glad to have you here. Sign your name, and we'll get you all the keys to your cabins."

You nod, write down your name on the paper, and then take the cabin key from him, "Thanks!"

He nods, setting up your friends as well.

Taking your bags, you head down to your cabin. You walk through the main grounds, across the road and over to the thick backwooded area. You paused, looking out into the woods.

The trees were growing and darkening as you looked in, hiding the other side from what lay there.

You shook it off, heading to the cabin and unlocking it. You were sharing your room with Adam, two beds set up and a window at the back of the cabin wall as well.

"Not bad..." You muttered.

As you and Adam start to unpack, you couldn't help but feel a little excited about spending the summer here. The camp was beautiful, with its lake and surrounded by lush forest. It was going to be the perfect escape from the stress of school and family drama.

As you were unpacking, you noticed that Adam had left the cabin without saying anything. You shrugged, thinking he had gone to explore as well.

After organizing your clothes and items in the drawers, you grab your sunglasses and head out to explore the camp. The sun was setting, casting a beautiful golden hue on the entire area. You walked towards the lake, admiring the serene beauty of the water.

As you sit on the dock, dipping your feet in the water, you feel off. Feeling that weird sense that someone was watching you.

You looked out across the lake, attempting to spot anyone, but the forest looked all the same. You were startled a little when you heard footsteps approaching. You look up to see Adam walking towards you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Hey there," he says, sitting beside you on the dock. "Enjoying the view?"

You roll your eyes but can't help but laugh at his antics. "Yeah, it's beautiful."

"Well, I was talking with some others and we're setting up dinner for everyone, then it's swimsuit time~"

You scoffed, shoving him away. "We're to relax, not stick our pieces in random places."

"Oh, say you," He grinned, but you just shrugged him off.

"Meet you at the cabin then?"

You hummed in agreement, and Adam left you alone to join some of the others. You looked back out at the lake, sighing before getting up and following after him.

As you walk back towards the main grounds, you can't shake off the feeling of being watched. The shadows of the trees seemed to elongate and twist, as though they were reaching out to grab you. You shivered, feeling as though you were being watched by something lurking in the forest.

But you shook it off, reassuring yourself that it was just your imagination running wild in unfamiliar territory. You arrive at the campfire just as dinner is being served, the smell of grilled meat and vegetables making your mouth water. You grab a plate and sit down next to Philip, who was chatting animatedly with one of the other counsellors.

You laughed at the funny stories and jokes that were shared, feeling yourself relaxed for the first time in a long while.

But as the night wore on, the atmosphere changed. You noticed the people around you becoming louder, more intoxicated. The crude jokes turned into innuendos and the flirting became more aggressive.

Your typical night with a bunch of people barely older than the drinking age and taking it to their advantage to flirt with any young mind like themselves.

After dinner, you all head back to your cabins to change into your swimsuits. You grab your towel and head towards the lake, joining the others who are already swimming and playing around in the water. You dip your toes into the cool water and shiver slightly, but soon adjust to the temperature and join in the fun.

As you were swimming around, you suddenly felt someone grab your waist from behind. You gasp and turn around to see Adam, grinning cheekily at you. "Gotcha."

You continued to splash around in the water as the sunset. Across the dock, dark eyes stared into the stirring waters. Watching from behind the darkness of the tree line Peter and Crystal made out against one of the firm dock legs. Others laugh and touch too closely to not be called flirtatious.

Their laughter stung his ears. The sounds of shrill joy twisting his stomach in a way that made him angry. One more year where he'd have to do all the dirty work. Where these kids would have to learn.

He'd hear their screams and see the looks of horror on their faces. That's what he wanted.

He moved back into the shadows, slinking down the old house of a family doomed from the start...

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

"Simon! Get your ass down here right now you little shit!!"

"Hang on." The young boy looked in the mirror, whining as he fiddled with his belt, desperately pulling it and looping it back through. Shaky hands working hard when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

His father angrily pushed through the bathroom door, grabbing his wrist. "I said get over here. You're going to make us late again and I don't want your excuses."

Simon wriggled, whining again as he was pulled down the stairs.

His older brother sat with his bags on the couch, chuckling. "Hah, look who got caught with his pants down again." He smirked.

"Shut up Tommy!" Simon retorted, his father yanking him forward and slapping him across the face.

"He's right. Now you shut your mouth."

Simon looked over at his mother who remained quiet as the boys' father led them to the door, getting them into the car.

"If I hear any shit from your counsellors' I'm going to be through with you. You understand me!?"

Simon looked out the window, watching the trees blur by in a mess of green as they drove. He saw his brother look over at him and smirk.

"Don't be a pussy, Simon. You're going to love it."

Simon shook his head and looked away, thinking about all the wonderful things he could be doing if his brother was the one going away to camp.

Simon couldn't help but feel the knot of worry in his stomach. He wasn't looking forward to the summer camp, but his father threatened him with more than was needed to scare the young guy.

"Simon. Simon! What the fuck are you whining about?" His brother punched his arm, and Simon looked over at him.

"Nothing."

"Don't try to lie to me. I can hear it in your fucking voice."

"I'm just nervous is all."

"Yeah, about that..." Tommy laughed, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a small tin. "I got you something to take the edge off."

Simon looked at him, eyes wide. "What the fuck is that?" He asked, Tommy, grinning and popping open the lid, a snake popping out and making Simon jump.

"Tommy, stop!!"

Tommy laughed, tucking the fake snake away.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

The stairs of the old house creaked. He took it to the bathroom where the mirror took in his frame, eyes showing out from behind the skull mask he wore. Something he'd taken on after his brother's death.

He bent down, opening the sink drawer doors and grabbing his set of knives and his hatchet. Tracing his gloved fingers over the sharp edge, a twist of evil excitement stirred inside him.

Another year of spilling blood. All for himself.

You were back at your cabin at the end of the night, slipping into a sweater as the chill of the summer air set through the interior.

"What's up, y/n?" Adam asked as he noticed you staring out the window for the hundredth time.

"I don't know, I just have this weird feeling like we're being watched." You turn from the window to face him.

Adam let out a chuckle. "Don't tell me you believe in all those ghost stories they tell around the campfire?"

"No, it's not that. It's just a feeling. Nothing more." You tried to brush it off, but you were unconvinced.

"Yeah, but it can be fun to believe you know? Peace of mind." He offered his hand, and you took it.

Adam pulled you outside, and the two of you walked to the cabins beside yours.

"Do you believe in ghosts or spirits?" You asked, feeling a little braver around him.

"Not really. I've seen some crazy shit and it's hard to believe there's more out there. But why not? I'll believe anything if it's from you."

"You're uncontrollable."

"I know." He grinned but then stopped in his tracks. "Wait, hold up. What was that?"

You stop, cocking your head to the side to listen. "I don't hear anything."

"Shh. Listen."

You sit there for a tense moment, scanning the dark tree line, fists clenching in your pockets.

You listened closer, and what you heard was a heavy thumping from one of the cabins. You both seemed to exhale softly upon realizing it wasn't anything to be scared of.

"Whatever, I'm going to the bathroom." You kept walking, heading down the path to the bathrooms. Heading inside and flicking on the small light, locking the door.

Adam smirked, hearing you as you left down the path. He's been trying to get into your pants for months. And yet you brushed him off every time. He partly hoped that this time around, the summer camp and the alcohol will loosen you, literally.

He waits around for you to be done, looking out down toward the dock and the cool waters. Hearing footsteps behind him, he chuckled. "That was quick." He turned, facing someone who definitely wasn't you.

His eyes widened, looking up at the imposing figure.

The mask bore holes into his skin, the darkness hiding the grotesque glint in his eyes.

"Woah man, easy." Adam backed up, but it did little to save him as the large man's hand clasped tightly around his throat, his hatchet slashing into his abdomen.

He had to die first.

Adam's eyes went wide. He attempted to scream, heels digging into the dirt as the blade retracted from his stomach and he was dragged across the open grounds. Blood splattered from the torn skin and clothes onto the rocks and dirt. Dragged back into the woods, trying to scream or scramble for anything to help him.

"Help!" His words were mumbled and barely made it out as he was dragged back into the darkness behind the cabins. Thrust into a tree, the knife sinking back into his flesh. Adam choked, blood spilling from his mouth as the knife carved up through him. Blood splattered into the dirt and leaves.

His eyes stared upward; his face twisted in fright as the man began to brutal him with the knife. The blade tore into his flesh, slicing open as the man took his time to toy with the young man.

Adam's struggles weakened by the minute. Until the knife dug into his throat, and life escaped his body.

He dropped Adam, flicking the blood from his knife and tucked it back into his vest.

The man turned back to the cabin, the sound of footsteps approaching.

Adam was left slumped on the ground, blood oozing from his wounds.

The man slipped back behind the cabin, his hand grasping the hilt of his knife as he listened intently for your return.

You were coming out of the bathrooms, heading back to your cabin when you noticed Adam wasn't around. "Adam?" You looked around, watching the darkness. When you heard nothing, you shrugged. He probably just headed back to the cabin then. So, with that you headed back, but when you returned, still no Adam.

"Alright then."

You left the cabin door unlocked, just in case he'd take a while to get back. Setting up your bed and crawling in, flicking out your lamp. You lay in the darkness, snuggling into the bed and closing your eyes.

You listened to the sounds of the cricket outside and the occasional small rustle of a critter along the wilderness edge. Your breathing slows, exhaling softly as you feel yourself slipping away into sleep.

Footsteps crunch against the pebbled ground. You aren't entirely sure how long you've been asleep when you feel your eyelids fluttering open again. Not moving when you hear the heavy footfalls coming up the side of the cabin. They come around the front of the cabin, stopping at the door.

Silence.

"Adam?" You finally whisper, shifting a little in your bed, squinting into the darkness.

Still silent.

You sat up slowly, looking out the window to see if the coast was clear. You couldn't see anything. You listened for a few moments more, and when you still didn't hear anything, you laid back down.

You watched the door, your heart picking up in pace slightly. The door handle of the cabin finally twists. Your heart leaps as the door opens with an ominous creak.

The steps follow into the cabin, and in the moonlight, you can clearly see that the figure is not Adam.

Your heart spasms in your chest. Your body goes into freeze mode. You try to keep your breathing low in the darkness. The figure shifts its weight slightly, and you feel a pair of eyes on you. Whatever or whoever it was said nothing.

Boots moving across the cabin floor. You close your eyes, feeling fear overtake you when the person reaches your bedside. The glint of the moonlight revealed the sharp hatchet, yet your eyes were closed. Unaware of just what danger you were in.

The figure leans over, warm breath fanning from the mask, leaning down near your cheek, the blade caressing over the skin of your shoulder. You can't stop your whimper, feeling another hot puff of air against your skin, the tip of the blade digging into your shoulder.

You flinch, gasping. The figure stops, the blade drawing away from your skin. Your eyes finally open, wide with fear.

The figure is looming over you, and you can't make out their features in the dark, but the knife glints in the moonlight.

"Please." You whimpered. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Shhh..." The figure shushed, bringing the knife down slowly, trailing the cold metal across your exposed stomach.

Your bottom lip quivers, shying away, whimpering. "Please- Please I won't-" Your voice dies out with another small whimper as he toys with you. Your body is a nervous wreck.

The blade drags across your skin, slowly sinking into your flesh. Your body throbbing in pain, your eyes so wide that they sting.

You try to look down to see the blade, but the figure moves away, and your eyes follow the figure. You see the glint of the moonlight upon the blade as it comes into view. Your body is trembling violently, your skin stained with a light coating of sweat.

You're going to die. You're fully prepared for whatever is happening to end you.

"Oh, Crystal, come on!" You hear Peter's voice in the darkness. The thick silence pierced like shards of glass. Their breathing pauses, blade stilling against your skin.

"No! I told you not to look!" Crystal hollered back. You could hear her coming closer, walking down toward the docks probably.

The figure leans away from you. You feel your heart throbbing inside your chest. The blade leaves your skin, boots heavily walking back across the floorboards. You remain there, hearing the stride stop, eyes back on you. Then the door creaks shut, and the steps are moving away.

You exhale shakily, opening your eyes, half expecting him to still be there.

You thought he was going to kill you. And then it hit you. Crystal... He must have been going after one of them. You were about to rush out of bed on adrenaline, but the fear immediately had you lying back down. You couldn't move, pulling your blankets back up.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

It was morning when you got up, finding Adam not at the cabin. You were surprised. You thought he'd come back eventually, but it seems he'd disappeared. You tried to clear your head. Getting dressed and stepping outside to brush your teeth. You looked around, trying to see any signs of what had happened last night. But it seemed all was still. You spat into the dirt, shrugging on your camp sweater and headed over to the main cabin.

There you saw everyone, Peter sitting alone and looking a little bummed out. "Hey." You walked over, getting his attention. "Hey... sleep ok?"

"Yeah, you? Heard a scuffle last night."

Peter sighed, looking into his half-full cup of iced tea. "Found some old photos in a bag she brought with her... Her and her ex."

You cringed a little, but nodded, hearing him out.

"She stormed off and didn't come back last night."

"She did seem the type to be dramatic." You shrugged but gave him a side hug. "Look, it'll be alright. I'm sure she'll come back, and you can sort this out."

Breakfast was passed around and you slowly got to thinking about Crystal. She had no ride back unless she were to take Adam's car or Phil's truck... And where was Adam? Oh well... She was probably off brooding about how she would have to come back and apologize. She was always a tad dramatic for your type.

But the day shifted on, afternoon setting and you all headed to get changed into your swimsuits.

Grabbing your towel you headed outside to meet up with Phil who was chatting up one of the other male counsellors. He had that sly look in his eyes. You patted his arm, motioning him to go get it somewhere else and you headed for the dock.

Some others were already talking and breaking out the kayaks to take on the lake.

You once again sat down, dipping your toes into the water. You looked down into the water, noticing it seemed slightly darker than you remember. Playing it off to be the sunlight and you continued to gently swish your toes through.

One of the girls waved off as she pushed her kayak out into the lake. Rowing out a small bit enough that she comfortably floated along. Until her paddle hit something in the water, rippling up the lake.

You raised an eyebrow, looking down, noticing a chain tied to the leg of the dock. That hadn't been there the other day. The girl seemed to come to the same conclusion, pulling on the chain, something scraping along the bottom floor of the lake bed.

She grunted, pulling a little harder, one of the guys swimming out to steady the kayak.

You all watched as she pulled the chain up, struggling with it until finally. She screamed. You were startled, immediately pulling your feet out of the water. The girl dropped the chain and started desperately attempting to get out of the water and out of the kayak. There wasn't any mistaking her blonde hair, Crystal's body tied by the neck around the chain, her body gutted and hollowed so she'd sink.

You were horrified. Everyone was horrified. Peter and Phillip grab the chain and tug it, dragging her back to shore. They pulled her body onto the dock, seeing her lifeless eyes. The chain digging into her throat, stomach and chest completely hollowed out, her rib cage sticking up like fangs from her peeling, mutilated skin.

You backed up, hitting Phillip's arms. Covering your mouth as you saw what it was. Someone had murdered Crystal. And he was in your cabin last night. You hadn't imagined it.

Someone was hunting you...

"What do we do??" Phillip asked.

"We call the police!" Stacy cried.

"No! They'll shut us down. We'll be responsible."

"What if he comes after the rest of us?"

Your heart pounded a million miles an hour. What were you going to do!?

Some of the boys simply pushed her body back into the water. Vouching that they should just keep a lookout for anything that comes up. They wanted to make the rescue that it was probably just animals. Yeah, because animals were the ones to skillfully skin the organs and carve out around the sharp bone of her ribcage.

But no one could convince them otherwise, so you let it go. It still terrifies you, keeping an eye out as you walk the grounds. Every noise around you sounds like aggression.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

Dark eyes watched from the cabin door as Crystal stalked across the camp. Muttering angrily to herself, pulling her shirt fully on, and heading for the docks to get some fresh air. He watched her head down, footsteps following after her once she was far enough away.

The twisted sense of hunting prey filled his mind. Smelling the blood before it was spilt and the delicious scream he'd tear from her lungs.

She sat on the dock, huddled against the small sloshes of the lake against the dock legs. Staring out into the starry night. Footfalls make her brow wrinkle. "Peter, I told you to leave me alone."

He stared down at her, his hatchet glinting in the light, hand tightening on the blade in anticipation. He could almost get off to it. Grabbing her by the throat, hearing her gasp and choke, feet scraping against the wood of the dock. She tried to scream, grabbing his forearm, and looking up at him.

He stared down at her, eyes glimmering with excitement as he watched her thrash. A predator toying with its prey. She squirmed desperately, attempting to kick or bite her way out. Her nails dug into his forearm, drawing a light trickle of blood from his skin.

He frowned, gripping the hatchet and piercing it up through her back, the blade squelching through organs and blood, spilling across the dock and flicking into the cool water.

Her face was frozen in an endless scream, bloodletting out across the wood, falling limp after a moment.

He dropped her body, walked back up the dock and grabbed one of the boat chains from the grass. Unthreading it from the post, he came back over. He tied the chain around her throat, making sure it stayed.

The blade tore into her stomach and gutted her before picking up her organless body and throwing her into the lake. Blood seeps into the water like a bleeding-out animal. Like she'd just been mauled by a shark and was left as scraps.

Seeing blood flood and bubble along her flesh as she sank down to the bottom, the current moving her slightly, throat tugging on the chain that kept her secure to the dock.

He flicked out his blade, looking down at his forearm, wiping the blood from the scratches away. And he left silently.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

Simon stood at the edge of the tree line. His brother sneered from the porch, watching him investigate the noise that had rustled the bushes. He stood there, looking down at the small fox, blood splattered across the leaves, stomach torn open, caught in the barbed wire fence of the property and ultimately caught by whatever it had been running from.

Simon reached out to touch it but quickly pulled away and backed up. He walked back over to the porch, nose scrunching when he smelled the putrid smell of cigarette smoke from his brother.

"Go tell Dad, he'll want someone to pick the guts out of the fence." He sneers.

Simon kept his head down, heading inside where his father was muttering away angrily about his mother again, another bottle in his hand. Drinking it back while he went on and on over the phone.

Simon hesitantly went over to him, standing there patiently and waiting. His father noticed him and frowned angrily. "What do you want, boy!?"

Simon gulped, finding his voice. "There's a fox in the fence..."

"Is it dead?"

Simon nodded. "It's dead."

His father huffed, chugging back more alcohol. "Get the tools and go clean it then. You know what to do."

Simon felt his stomach twist painfully, digging under the sink in the kitchen to grab the gloves and cleaner, heading back outside onto the porch.

As he worked to remove the fox from the fence, Simon couldn't help but think about how much death he had been exposed to lately.

He finished cleaning the fence, but his mind was elsewhere.

As he buries the fox gently, Simon can't help but feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He knows that there are cruel people out there who are capable of senseless violence, and it makes him angry. He wants to do something, to make a difference, but he doesn't know how.

As he walked back towards the house, he heard his father's voice. "You know, Simon, you can't be a sissy your whole life. You gotta learn to face things head-on. That's what real men do."

Simon felt his blood boil with anger. His father had no idea what he had gone through, the trauma he had endured. And yet, he was still expected to be a "man". He was only twelve by that point.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

You sat around the fire with a blanket over your shoulders. The warm afternoon was rather quiet as you all attempted to get over what you'd seen earlier. Why the hell were you sitting here instead of calling the cops? Someone was murdered and you just had to be stuck with the people worried about the camp's reputation.

The boys continued to work, trying to forget about the corpse in the lake and the ramifications that would come with it. The girls all sat in the cabin, trying to distract the younger campers from the grim day.

Phillips came over, handing you a flask of scotch. "Drink this. It'll help."

You took it from him, looking away. "Why'd she have to die?"

"I don't know."

"Where's Peter?"

"He's outside, making s'mores with the other kids."

You nodded, taking a sip of the liquor. It warmed you up and you sighed in relief.

Phillips sat down beside you, looking like his mind was miles away. "You seen that prick, Adam?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Disappeared last night hasn't come back." Saying it out loud really solidifies it for you and Phil. Looking at each other, simultaneously coming to one conclusion.

He was probably dead too...

"We need to get the fuck out of here. We can take his car, leave and go get help."

You agreed, nodding your head. "Yeah, yeah. We should leave now."

Phil wasn't gonna fight it. He may like to do his own thing but the idea of getting killed wasn't on his MO. Not this pretty boy face, no, no.

So, you packed back up, Phil convincing Stacy to go back with you. With your bags, you loaded into Phil's truck. Some of the counsellors seemed a little upset at the idea of you leaving so early. Or going to the cops at all.

But you weren't going to sit there and wait to be next.

Within another hour or so you were all packed up and getting in the truck. Phil pulled you out of the road, clicking his tongue as he turned the truck around.

You stared out the window, looking at the trees and the stretch of empty road as if they were watching back. Mocking you, laughing.

It was silent for a large portion of the drive, your foot tapping along the car.

"What of the others?" Stacy asked from the backseat. "Their fault for being stupid. Although that one counsellor was pretty cute..."

You remain quiet, watching the road as you drive. Tires picking up down the road. You looked down at your phone, distracting yourself with one of your games, Phil eventually filling the silence with the sound of the radio.

The thick tension in the air was palpable through the drive.

There was a thunk under the truck. You looked up, eyes widening as Phil brought the truck to a stop.

"What was that?" You looked out the side mirror but couldn't see anything.

"It's probably some dumb rocks." Phil takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. "Phil-" You reached out for him, and he shrugged it off. "I'm just gonna check it."

He left the door open, heading back around the truck, seeing something lying in the road. A clump of fur stuck on the tread of his tire, a fox in the road.

Phil approached it, looking around. "Geez... talk about dumb." He mutters, spitting into the dirt and scuffing his shoe. Looked like there wasn't any damage done to his truck though. That's what mattered.

He bent down to look at the fox again, hearing footsteps. Just as he looked up the sharp glint of a blade glared into his eyes. His heart lurched, backing up as the blade retracted, swinging again.

Phil gasped, continuing to dodge and trying to move, the large skull-masked figure intending to strike good with the hatchet.

You heard the scrape and thunk when the blade hit the side of the truck, seeing the large figure.

"Phil!" You cried, Stacy getting out of the car before you could stop her.

Your eyes widened, seeing the figure. He dwarfed both Stacy and Phil.

How did he get out here!?

The figure turns towards Stacy, raising the hatchet. She screams, but before he can strike, Phil tackles the figure from behind, knocking him down onto the ground.

You quickly get out of the car, running towards them. "Phil, are you okay?!"

"I'm alright, but we need to get out of here!" Phil grabs your arm, pulling you back to the truck.

The figure stands up, body looming in the dim light. You get a good look at him now. He was wearing a skull mask, with the rest of his face hidden in shadow. He was wearing a black jacket with a hood, and black gloves. You couldn't see anything else.

He starts coming towards you, but Phil quickly gets back into the truck, starting its engine. You all drive away quickly, leaving the figure behind.

You're breathing heavily, heart pounding as you look out the back window. The figure is standing in the same spot, watching as you drive away.

"We're getting the police..." You whisper, unable to take your eyes off the man as he gets smaller in the mirror.

"Agreed," Phil says, continuing down the open road.

Ghost lifts his mask, putting a lit cigarette between his scarred lips, exhaling smoke out into the open road. Turning back toward the camp. He'd gone too far anyway, back to his stomping grounds.

He takes another drag of smoke, dropping the cigarette and shoving his heel into it.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

Tommy smeared the dirt with his shoe, exhaling the last of the smoke from his lungs, spitting into the freshly shuffled dirt.

Simon watched him, holding the shotgun his father had shoved in his arms. "Tommy-"

"Shut it. You'll scare 'em off." He looks around, scanning the forest grounds, into the darker parts of the trees and across the bushes.

"They always run back to where they think they're safe." Tommy picks up a rock and throws it at the lake. Birds stir in the water, flicking and scattering, some rushing back toward the trees.

Simon gulps, raising the shotgun, and aiming upward at one of the birds. He shot, missing the thing by a mile.

Tommy scoffs, shaking his head. "You're not gonna hit anything like that, kid."

Simon lowers the gun, feeling embarrassed. He had never shot a gun before, let alone at a moving target. "Sorry, I-I didn't mean to-"

Simon can feel his cheeks flushing. He hates it when Tommy treats him like a little kid. But he knows better than to argue. Tommy's been doing this for years, and Simon's only been brought into this recently.

"What are we even doing out here?" Simon asks, shifting the gun in his hands.

Tommy turns to him, squinting in the sunlight. "We're hunting, Simon. Hunting for something that's been bothering the camp for too damn long."

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

A couple days later you and the others returned. It was only you and Phil this time, along with a couple officers and a K9 unit. You'd been nervous about returning for the entire time up until finally going back.

Getting there you open the door, looking around. The camp was quiet, the trees still, bushes bristling as the breeze flowed steadily.

Some officers looked around, the K9 sniffing along the ground as you headed into the camp.

It was completely dead. Abandoned beer cans, a filled pool, and Kayaks still down at the beach unchained.

You latched onto Phil nervously as you followed the officers. Searching everywhere. The main office was empty, and cabins were abandoned. You gulped, the officers scratching their heads, but you knew it was too late. He had gotten to them.

"And what did you say he looked like again?"

"Tall- over six feet, skull mask, wore all black?"

The officer nodded, looking around. The K9's ears perked up, staring into the bushes. Barking into the darkness.

Your insides tensed up, watching the officer with the K9 move forward, others readying their guns in case.

You were shaking and your knees felt weak. the officer moved the K9 forward, waving it further in.

The K9 stopped, barking as it tugged on its leash. The officer stepped forward, pointing his gun into the woods.

The noise quieted, and the dog calmed down. The officer sighed, walking back over. "It's a deer. Want us to keep searching?"

You look around, sighing. "No, nobody's here. Nobody was here."

"Alright, well, we're going to be here for a while still. You can head back to town, we'll keep searching." The officer shrugged. You pocketed your hands, heading back to the car with Phil.

You get into the passenger seat; Phil leans forward and turns on the radio. You look in the rearview mirror and your body freezes. You look back, going cold in horror, a silent scream building in your throat. The hatchet reached up between the seats, grabbing Phil and choking him.

You attempt to tear the man off but he's too strong, blood slashing through Phil's throat as he angrily fights.

You finally manage to scream, getting the door open quickly getting out of the truck, your heart hammering in your chest. The figure turned towards you, his mask hiding any emotion he may have felt. You couldn't make out any details in the darkness, but you could tell that he was tall, muscular, and had a menacing aura about him.

Your feet carry you, thudding across the ground, the back door of the car opening and heavier footsteps following.

You try to call for help, bloody glove wrapping around your mouth, pulling you back, back pressed to the strong chest of a bloody killer.

You wanted to thrash but thought better, remaining still. His hand tightened over your mouth, leaning in so his warm breath fanned over your face. You whimpered, feeling weak, shaking as the edge of his weapon grazed your stomach. Tracing up your sternum, across your chest. Edge of the blade nipping your clothes.

You breathe in heavily through your nose, hands clasping on his forearm, wriggling around.

He enjoyed it. Seeing the pure fear in your eyes, watching you struggle and shake.

Your eyes water, looking into the bushes, knowing the officers were just right there...

He leaned closer to you, whispering into your ear, "Now, now." He was right up against your ear, breath hot and damp.

You try to kick him in the knee, but he's too strong. He grabs your leg, squeezing, bruising as he pulls it up, causing you to fall to your knees.

He moans in your ear, lips pulling into a smirk against the shell of your ear.

You gag, struggling, hearing the heavy thunk of his hatchet against the ground.

His hands were big enough to cover your face. One wrapped around your throat, the other on your mouth, thumb and fingers digging into the meat of your cheeks, squeezing.

Your hands scrambled against his arm, nails digging into his flesh as you desperately tried to claw him away.

There's barking and a sharp whine of the K9. You struggle, attempting to wriggle away as you hear the officers yelling. There's another loud bark, claws digging into the ground, the man letting you go.

You don't have a moment to think longer, taking off down the old road. The canine returns to Simon's side, a tussle of fur in her mouth, and he gives her the signal to wait. He smirks under the mask, watching you run as fast as you can. His stomach twisted in excitement. He couldn't wait to watch your blood spill…

He wants to watch the anguish before the pain. He wants to see your insides. Do they look as good as you do? He swings the blade wiping some of the blood off, running it along the white truck stopped along the road.

Tears fill your eyes, your heart pounding. Your legs shake as you run with everything you have in you. He could have just killed you, but you couldn’t give up. You had to get out. You had to run. You had to survive. This twisted game of cat and mouse, feeling the cats claws ready to sink into your tail and drag you back for a meal.

For now, you were prey, and he was predator.

(Please do let me know what you thought if you read this. I worked hard and haven't a true slasher fic before. I tried my best and want to give you guys more of this.)

402 notes · View notes

joelswritingmistress · 26 days

Text

Camp Crystal Lake Masterlist ( Joel Miller fanfiction)

Joel Miller x f!reader (romance/horror)

Setting: Camp Crystal Lake

The reader is taking on the position of a camp counselor at the infamous Camp Crystal Lake. While she begins to enjoy her summer, even crushing on the camp director Joel, a killer lurks in the woods unbeknownst to anyone.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

135 notes · View notes

moosereblogsfics · 1 year

Text

No Motive

pairing: serial killer! steve x serial killer!bucky x reader

warnings: DUBCON, kind of non con, serial killer au, horror, slight dacryphilia, violence, smut, p in v, manipulation/coercion, facial, creampie, mentions of virginity loss, masturbation, MINORS DNI, dead dove do not eat. read at your own risk

summary: “Surprise, Sidney!”

a/n: this is a Scream / Grease inspired entry for @boxofbonesfic Friday The 13th challenge for Serial Killer! this is my first time writing anything dark but I had a lot of fun (i love horror/horror movies so this was a fun exercise). thank you so much bones for hosting this super fun challenge and i hope everyone had an absolutely spooktacular Friday the 13th!

word count: 1287 (cutting it close whew)

“Doors locked. Windows and blinds shut. No trips to anywhere but the grocery store or work, during daylight hours. No one is permitted to be outside of their homes after dark.”

That was what the police said. So why the hell were you outside right now? You snuck a quick glance at your boyfriend, who was driving carefree with the windows down.

“You cold, babe?” He shouted over the wind, looking over at you to flash you a cocky smirk. He looked beautiful, and that’s why you were here.

“No,” you mustered, but it was a lie. The anxiety caused by your forbidden outing induced a tremor in your hands as you pressed down your skirt. Steve would be so disappointed if he knew how you were feeling. Wasn’t this romantic? In the very least, it was what all the other couples did at school.

It was what Steve’s ex-girlfriends did with him.

You fought the urge to flip down the little vanity mirror and check your lipstick, make sure you looked pretty enough for him. Instead, you looked over at him with a smile and reached over to squeeze his thigh suggestively. That’s how you were supposed to do it, right?

The crunching of gravel under Steve’s tires drew your attention to the little road that you’ve pulled off onto. You’ve never been here, but you recognized it from its infamy— Lover’s Lake, where all the couples used to come to get a little… privacy. Nobody came here anymore, though.

Not since the killings started.

Your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips nervously, and you felt your heart pounding in fear.

“Steve, is this a good idea?” you eked out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and nibbling at the flesh nervously. Without even looking at you, Steve grasped your chin in his forefinger and eased your lip out from your teeth before running over it with his thumb.

He’s so good to you. He knew you so well. So why didn’t you feel safe right now?

But your stomach roiled when he sighed, clearly disappointed in you as he spared an irritated look before pulling the car to stop facing the lake. “Babe, I told you this already, remember? We can’t let the killer win. When we let them control us, let them make us afraid, they win.”

“But Steve, what if the killer shows up?”

“Hey,” he said, placing a warm hand on the back of your neck and letting his fingers press on your spine. “I’m here, baby. Now go get your cute ass in the backseat.” Steve laughed when you squeaked at the pat on your butt as you made your way to the backseat.

As you sat down, you couldn’t get over how… wrong it felt. Like the ghosts of the three girls that died here were watching you, telling you to get out of here. It was disrespectful at best, dangerous for a fact. But you didn’t have it in you to say no to Steve.

He settled next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders as the two of you looked out to the lake. Your heart beat faster when his fingers toyed with the straps of your dress and bra, before he inched them off your shoulder.

“Oops,” he laughed. It sounded harsher than you were used to, and you couldn’t hold back your discomfort anymore. You turned to him, ready to voice your objections when he captured your lips with his own.

“Steve-”

“Shh, baby,” he interrupted you, pulling down your top entirely to expose your tits to him. He kneaded the flesh between his palms, groaning and watching your nipples peak in response to his ministrations. “God, you’re so pretty. So innocent. Knew you’d be the best girlfriend a fella could ever have.” The pride that swelled within you at his words squashed the discomfort within you, and you leaned in to kiss him with a smile.

You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in his kisses as his hands wandered up and down your body. You didn’t object when he pulled your dress and bra off, pulled your panties off and laid you down on the leather seats of his car.

“You see how hard I am for you, baby?” Steve groans, grabbing your hand and putting it on his bulge as he rocked his clothed thigh against your bare core. Steve Rogers, the one guy that everyone wanted, the captain of the football team, the all-American golden boy wanted you.

Steve slid his jeans off, sitting in one of the seats as he pumped his shaft twice and pulled your hips between his legs, aligning your slick cunt with his tip and driving his hips up to inch into you. You stifled your discomfort, trying to hide your winces and the tears that sprung in your eyes as he eased into your tight hole. You couldn’t let him know that you were a virgin, what would he think?

But you knew when you met Steve’s wolfish gaze, it wasn’t something you could hide from him.

“Are you a virgin, baby?” He cooed at you, condescension lacing his tone. You nodded and shut your eyes, when the sound of the door opening forced your eyes open.

Bucky, Steve’s best friend, slid into the seat next to yours. “Getting started without me, huh, pal?” Steve laughed harshly at that, exposing your body for Bucky to see. Mortification sent blood rushing through your body but Steve didn’t seem to care as he squeezed and flicked your tits, continuing to fuck into you. “You gonna let me join in, Stevie?”

“Not this time,” Steve grunted, turning to Bucky as he used your body. “This one’s a virgin.”

“Lucky,” Bucky asserted, unbuckling and sliding his already-hard cock out from his jeans. “Spit,” he instructed you, putting his hand in front of your mouth then using it as lubrication to stroke himself as he watched Steve fuck you. “You wanna cry, baby?” he asked you as he watched you, noting the stiffness of your body. “Yeah, I bet it hurts. C’mon, then, cry.”

You let the tears flow freely from you as Steve picked up the pace, uncaring about your pain as he drove further into you. But it didn’t take long for the pain to shift to pleasure, the fullness from Steve making your head loll against his shoulder.

Bucky pulled you down to face his cock, surprising you as he sprayed his release on your face, almost making you cry again as his cum mixed with your lipstick. Inexplicably, though, it triggered that blissful feeling that you’ve only felt on your own, clenching tighter on Steve’s cock as your vision whited out.

“Shit, you like that?” Steve snickered, cumming into you as your body slacked. He pulled you off unceremoniously, swinging you into his arms only to dump your nude body in the passenger seat. “I gotta go piss,” he called out, slamming the door as Bucky trailed behind him.

Bored, you opened the glovebox in search of napkins to clean your face, but when your fingers brushed against dainty metal, your heart stuttered.

Inside Steve’s glovebox lay three bloodstained necklaces, ones that you knew belonged to the dead girls because you recognized each little pendant— Darla’s pink rhinestone, Charlotte’s teddy bear, Jeanie’s heart locket.

“You weren’t supposed to see that, sweetheart,” Steve said from behind you. You saw the blood from your neck spray onto the windshield before you got the chance to scream.

“That’s gonna be a pain to get out,” Bucky commented, before the darkness swallowed you whole.

#dark fic #dark!steve #dark!bucky #serial killer!steve #serial killer!bucky #scream inspired dark fic #boxofbonesfic friday the 13th challenge #horror au #moosereblogsfics' writings #dead dove do not eat #dark!stucky x reader

441 notes · View notes

clairlycreature · 1 year

Text

tfw ur a captive in this guy's cabin and he just waves at you innocently like he didnt just kill all ur friends earlier

bloody vers

#slasher #slasher fandom #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #y/n #jason voorhees x reader #i guess #this doesnt happen in my fic at least not yet #🖼️ creature feature

968 notes · View notes

4doll · 2 years

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𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐒/𝐎 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐒

❤︎︎ 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩. 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡. 𝐇𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝟖𝐚𝐦. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝟏𝟐 𝐚𝐦. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟

❤︎︎ 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩.

❤︎︎ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩. 𝐇𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐇𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐍𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

❤︎︎ 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. “𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥? 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝?“ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, “𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝.“ 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 “𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞“ 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦.

❤︎︎ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞. “𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞?“ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲.

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐕𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒

❤︎︎ 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞’𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟐𝟒/𝟕. 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐡𝐞’𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲.

❤︎︎ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

❤︎︎ “𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐬��𝐧 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐩!“ 𝐇𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝟒-𝟓 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐩.

❤︎︎ 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐛��𝐧.

❤︎︎ 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦. 𝐎𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭.

❤︎︎ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝐇𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝.

❤︎︎ 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞, “𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧? 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮- 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠?“ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝. 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, “𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝“ 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝. “𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧.“ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, “𝐅𝐢𝐱 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠“ 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬. “𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰.“ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬

❤︎︎ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒

❤︎︎ 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞’𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲

❤︎︎ 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞’𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩. 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬.

❤︎︎ 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩. 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝

❤︎︎ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩.

❤︎︎ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐇𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. “𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤? 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧“ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 “𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧“ “𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥“ “𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐨. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞-“ 𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 “𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩“ 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩.

❤︎︎ 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲

𝐒𝐓𝐔 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

❤︎︎ 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞. 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.

❤︎︎ 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐭.

❤︎︎ 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩, 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨.

❤︎︎ 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧. 𝐇𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝟏𝟓-𝟐𝟎 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

❤︎︎ 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞.

❤︎︎ 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐇𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭. 𝐇𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝐇𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐚𝐝. 𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟.

❤︎︎ “𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝, 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧“ 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 “𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮“ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝.

❤︎︎ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐇𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞.

authors note: thank you for the notes on Jealousy! also I’m very sorry if there are any spelling mistakes I just woke up and wanted to finish this.

taglist: @sl4shers @starboashee @gr4veyardg1rl

997 notes · View notes

slasher-dasher · 4 months

Note

Okay, this may sound... random. But I see Jason Voorhees more like a son than anything. This isn't shipping, this is just something wholesome I really wanna see.

Jason meets the reader and sees them as a parental figure, and the reader sees him like a son. And they have a healthy {as can be with an undead murderer} mother/father-son relationship.

I've never seen anyone do this, and I just want some wholesome parent-son time with him TvT

Parent Trapped

(Jason Voorhees x Reader /p; this was really fun to write!)

︶꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

This was supposed to be a fun vacation. You and a few friends had planned to visit some popular urban legend spots, one of them being Camp Crystal Lake. The story had always intrigued you, and you had managed to convince your friends to stop and look around just as the sign had come into view. How could you have known that there actually was an undead killer protecting the camp who was now picking off all of your fellow trespassers? Luckily, you'd managed to take shelter in a cabin that he had yet to explore. It was a little cleaner than the others, but not by much. No cobwebs, but a light layer of dust has settled around the cabin. A small stuffed teddy bear rested on the bed, tattered head placed delicately on the dirty pillow. You reach your hand out to pick it up as sharp snap from outside caught your attention. You whipped your head towards the window, quickly taking the bear in your arms for some sort of comfort. There he stood. You both froze, neither wanting to move as if staying still would prolong the inevitable. You take a hesitant step back, as if that movement would be your last. He didn't move. Just watched as you bolted out of the cabin and towards the woods.

"Jason, spare them." The voice of his mother echoed in his skull, forcing him out of the trance he had been in. For the first time, he doubted it was her. He obeyed regardless. Jason found you crouched under a hastily assembled leaf blanket, bear clutched tightly to your chest while you shivered in your sleep. He moved carefully, lifting your form with gentle ease as he brought you back into the cabin to rest. He didn't know why you had been an exception, your friends certainly hadn't been, but your presence did make him feel... protected? It was strange. He hadn't felt peace with a person at Camp Crystal Lake since his mother worked here, and even then her reach could only go so far. Maybe... if he could convince you...

You sat on the edge of your bed, hand haphazardly plunging a needle and thread into worn fabric that you'd finally been able to keep out of Jason's sight. Several years had gone by since you fell into the role of Camp Crystal Lake's second resident. While Jason disposed of trespassers and kept you safe, you kept the place tidy and him cared for. It was fairly easy, and Jason seemed to enjoy your company. He liked to help you clean, and would often hang around you while you were cooking, a habit you gathered was left over from when his mother was alive. You were relieved when he first rejected your romantic advances that you thought would be an easy escape plan, thankful that he truly did want nothing to do with that. Although, he did appreciate a doting kiss to the cheek (mask?) and other simple affections. The cabin door swung open as you reminisced, tying a final knot that you prayed would hold as the thread sealed the seam in the barely-held-together bear.

"Jason Voorhees, if you get any mud or blood on that floor so help me-" In an instant, an undead hand was extended towards you, holding a random assortment of flowers and leaves. A gentle smile graced your lips, replacing an older makeshift bouquet with the new one while he stood, hands fiddling at his sides.

"I have something for you too!" You stood, bear hidden behind your back as he tilted his head. Standing up on your tip-toes, you lifted the bear up to his face, watching as his stoic body language changed to a child-like joy. He scooped the bear up in an instant, pulling you in for a tight hug while your giggles filled the small cabin. In the midst of the moment, your eyes caught a glimpse of something on the floor, turning both of your attention's to the trail of Jason's boot-prints on the freshly cleaned floor. He got a very stern talking to about taking his shoes off before coming inside while he mopped the floor, apologizing for the mess the whole time.

#jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees x you #friday the 13th #friday the thirteenth #slasher community #slasher #slasher writer #slashers #slasher fucker #slasher fic #fic writer #fanfic writer #fanfic writing #fic writing #fanfiction writing #fanfiction writers

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friday-the-400th · 1 year

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slashers reacting to thier male!s/o using a slingshot to throw tiny candys at them!

haha so i dont know why i wanted to do this but i had a funny idea so lets get to it now i guess...?

bo sinclair 🧢 : -thinks its cute, eats them and shares them with you. -he favorite is probably like caramel or skittles i think. or hard candy like jolly rancher chewies ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎ -i think jolly rancher chewies because i think jolly ranchers are sour for some reason, but sweet and tasty at the same time. -shoot it at his head and hes gonna throw it back, i tell you that much. -saves some in a drawer for later usually. -dont let vincent find out or he’ll want some to.

jason voorhees 🪓 : -when you first did it he literally chuckled. he probably wont eat it around you unless your eating it together. -his favorite candy is probably smarties because one time you gave him a box and told him “its because your a smart boy” so it makes him feel happy. -also saves it for when hes done killing people he’ll just sit down and rest. -doesn't eat to much because his mom said not much to candy because he’ll get a tummy ache (his mom is the best) -and he needs to keep his muscles for when intruders come to crystal lake. michael myers 🔪 : -first reaction is smiling, to your surprise. -and he actually really likes candy, its his favorite movie snack so he eats it a lot. -he likes coffee crisp and those rainbow strips. or maybe sour candy. or starburst. -since everyone else says he eats all the cookies, if you have a stash of candy, expect a break in + theft pretty often but if he gets sick from it to many times he’ll promise to cut down on sweets. -secretly a good boy at heart but he just likes candy, its not his fault it tastes so good. harry warden ❤️ : -as soon as you threw it, he almost got confused as to what it was. being stuck in a mine for a while does that to you. -you have to have gotten him to take his mask off first. just like everyone else. -since hes a cannibal, it might take a while to get him used to normal food again. -he might like cinnamon hearts or very sour food, since his taste buds have gotten to used to flesh so it has to be strong to be taste-able. -cinnamon hearts is ironic because his whole killing holiday is valentines day so i bet he also likes those tiny colored heart candys with words on them. the kind you get on valentines day. -shares all his candy with you. this is part one, i’ll do more some other time :)

#slasher fic #jason vorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #bo sinclair #michael myers #jason vorhees #harry wa #harry warden x reader #my bloody valentine #halloween 1978 #friday the 13th #CCCCAAANNNNDDDDYYYYYY

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zapreportsblog · 8 months

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Soulmate au! Time😆😆

Jason Vorhees X Reader

Time soulmark: where there is a timer on your wrist that shows when you meet your soulmate face to face. Once they meet their timer goes to 00:00:00 and will sting a bit.

Plot: the reader and a few of their friends decided to be counselors for Camp Crystal lake. And although it’s supposed to gain some money, readers friends doesn’t seem to take it seriously though.

One day one of the readers friends got on their nerves so she decides to walk in the forest by themselves, while walking they didn’t seem to see where they were going because they soon bump into a tall guy, that guy is Jason, and also is their soulmate.

Awww my baby getting love finally <3

❝time seemed to stop when I met you❞

✭ pairing : Jason vorhees x reader

✭ fandom : slashers

✭ summary : you thought camp this year was going to be the same as all the other years but it seems it won’t be

✭ slashers masterlist

The mid-morning sun streamed through the windows of (Y/N)'s cozy apartment, casting warm patterns across the floor. (Y/N) sat at her kitchen table, sipping her coffee and browsing through her mail. Bills, advertisements, and then a peculiar envelope caught her eye. It was slightly worn, as if it had traveled a long distance, and it bore the emblem of a pristine lake surrounded by lush greenery.

With a mix of curiosity and excitement, she carefully tore open the envelope. Inside, neatly typed on creamy paper, were the words that would alter the course of her summer: an acceptance letter to be a camp counselor at Camp Crystal Lake.

Her heart raced as she read through the letter. Camp Crystal Lake had always been known for its picturesque landscapes and storied history. The idea of spending a summer surrounded by nature and working with children was certainly enticing.

Eager to share the news, (Y/N) picked up her phone and dialed her best friend's number. After a few rings, the call was answered.

"Hello?" a cheerful voice greeted her.

"Hey, it's me," (Y/N) said, her excitement evident in her tone.

"Oh, hey! What's got you all fired up this early?" her best friend replied.

"I just got a letter," (Y/N) exclaimed. "Guess what? I've been accepted as a camp counselor at Camp Crystal Lake!"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then a burst of enthusiasm. "No way! That's amazing! Congratulations!"

(Y/N)'s heart warmed at her friend's genuine excitement. "Thanks! I'm pretty excited about it too. But, you know, it's a big commitment. I'd be spending the whole summer there."

Her friend's voice was thoughtful. "True, but it sounds like a fantastic opportunity. You've always loved the outdoors and working with kids. Plus, Camp Crystal Lake is legendary. It's a chance of a lifetime."

(Y/N) nodded even though her friend couldn't see her. "You're right. It's just... It's a big step, and I'd be away for a while."

"Well, think about it this way," her friend suggested. "It's a chance for you to grow, experience something new, and create memories that'll last a lifetime. And I promise, I'll be here when you get back, ready to hear all about your adventures."

A smile tugged at the corners of (Y/N)'s lips. She was lucky to have such a supportive friend. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

"You've got this," her friend encouraged. "And if you're worried about missing home, just remember that you'll have me and all your friends cheering you on."

Feeling a renewed sense of determination, (Y/N) took a deep breath. "You know what? I'm going to do it. I'm going to accept the offer and become a camp counselor at Camp Crystal Lake."

Her friend's excitement was palpable. "That's the spirit! I'm so proud of you. This is going to be an incredible adventure, (Y/N)."

As they continued to chat about the possibilities and plans for the summer ahead, (Y/N) felt a wave of excitement wash over her. She had taken the first step towards a new chapter in her life—one filled with adventure, growth, and the promise of unforgettable memories.

(Y/N) stood in the middle of her bedroom, surrounded by an array of clothes, camping gear, and essentials she'd need for the summer at Camp Crystal Lake. The excitement she felt was tinged with a touch of nervousness. This was a big step, a journey into the unknown, and she couldn't help but wonder what the upcoming weeks would bring.

She carefully folded her favorite hoodie and tucked it into her bag. Glancing around the room, she realized she had packed everything she needed, but there was something missing—an item of utmost importance. She walked over to her dresser and opened the top drawer, revealing a small, intricate mark on her wrist—the soul timer.

Running her fingers over the delicate design, she traced the numbers that were etched into her skin. The soul timer was a unique phenomenon in her world. It counted down the days until the moment she would meet her soulmate, the person destined to be her perfect match. It was a constant reminder that love was out there, waiting to be discovered.

Today, as (Y/N) touched the mark, the numbers were crystal clear: "1 day." Her heart fluttered with a mixture of excitement and curiosity. Could it be possible that her soulmate was somehow connected to this new chapter of her life at Camp Crystal Lake?

With a fond smile, she closed the drawer and shouldered her bag. The anticipation was building, and she was ready to embrace whatever lay ahead. Leaving her apartment behind, she headed to the bus station.

As the bus rumbled to life and started its journey, (Y/N) found a window seat and settled in. The scenery outside changed from cityscape to countryside as she gazed out at the passing landscape. Her thoughts wandered to the adventure awaiting her, the friends she would make, and the memories she would create.

During the journey, her fingers occasionally strayed to her soul timer. The numbers remained constant—1 day. It was a countdown to not only the day she would meet her soulmate but also a reminder that each day was a step closer to the unknown.

The hours slipped by, and eventually, the bus pulled up to the entrance of Camp Crystal Lake. A surge of excitement mixed with nervousness coursed through (Y/N) as she stepped off the bus and took in the picturesque surroundings. The air was filled with the crisp scent of pine, and the lake shimmered in the sunlight.

Camp counselors and campers bustled about, preparing for the summer's activities. With a deep breath, (Y/N) walked forward, ready to embrace the adventure that awaited her. As she moved among the lively atmosphere, her fingers brushed against her soul timer once more. The numbers were a constant reminder that change was in the air, and perhaps her soulmate was just around the corner.

As the day went on, (Y/N) settled into the rhythm of camp life. She met fellow counselors, learned the camp's routines, and felt a growing sense of belonging. But beneath it all, that one-day countdown remained in her thoughts.

In the evening, as the sun set over the lake, (Y/N) found a quiet spot to sit by herself. The sky was painted in hues of pink and orange, and a sense of calm settled over her. She closed her eyes and touched her soul timer once more, feeling the connection to her own destiny.

With a smile, she whispered to herself, "One day. Just one more day until our paths cross." And with that thought in her heart, she embraced the tranquility of the moment, ready to embark on a summer that held the promise of adventure, friendship, and the possibility of finding the one person who would make her soul timer's countdown truly worthwhile.

(Y/N) had spent the past few hours at Camp Crystal Lake trying to immerse herself in the counselor experience. She had met a few fellow counselors and had expected them to share her enthusiasm for the camp and its mission. However, it quickly became apparent that some of them were taking the opportunity rather lightly.

As she watched them goof around and neglect their duties, (Y/N) felt a growing sense of frustration. She believed in making a positive impact and taking her responsibilities seriously. Unable to contain her irritation, she decided to take a walk in the woods, hoping that the embrace of nature would help clear her mind.

The forest, lush and serene, seemed to welcome her with open arms. The rustling leaves and the gentle sound of a distant stream had a calming effect on her racing thoughts. Lost in her own world, she walked deeper into the woods, not noticing that she had strayed from the well-worn paths.

Suddenly, she collided with a solid figure, nearly stumbling backward. She looked up, expecting to find another counselor, but her heart lurched at the sight before her—a tall, imposing man wearing a hockey mask. Fear flickered in her eyes as her instincts kicked in, telling her that something was off about this encounter.

"Who are you?" she managed to stammer, her heart racing.

The man remained silent, his eyes hidden behind the mask, but there was an eerie intensity to his gaze that sent shivers down her spine. He didn't seem to be a camp counselor, not dressed like any of them. She took a step back, ready to make a hasty retreat, but something held her in place—a strange sensation that seemed to tingle in the air.

Then, a realization struck her—she couldn't hear the familiar ticking of her soul timer. Panic gnawed at the edges of her mind as she glanced at her wrist. The numbers on her soul timer, which had counted down for so long, were frozen at zero. It was as if time itself had come to a standstill.

Trepidation mixed with confusion as she looked at the man before her. His soul timer was also frozen, the numbers stuck at zero. She couldn't comprehend what was happening. Was he her soulmate? The man who had been elusive and unknown until this very moment?

"(Y/N)," she whispered to herself, her voice a mixture of awe and disbelief. The soul timer, which had been a constant companion, was now a still, unchanging mark on her wrist.

The man took a step forward, and (Y/N) felt a mixture of fear and curiosity. Who was he? What did this frozen soul timer mean?

Before she could react, he reached up to touch the mask on his face, revealing more of his features. But it was his eyes that held her attention—the depth of emotion in those eyes was something she couldn't quite place. There was pain, there was something hauntingly human in his gaze.

As he stepped closer, (Y/N)'s heart pounded in her chest. She could feel a strange connection, an unspoken bond between them. Time seemed to stretch as they stood there, a silent understanding passing between them.

In that moment, (Y/N) realized that her journey at Camp Crystal Lake had taken an unexpected turn—one that defied all logic and reason. As she stood face to face with this mysterious man in the hockey mask, a cascade of questions flooded her mind, and the mysteries of their frozen soul timers entwined their fates in ways neither of them could have foreseen.

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kkpwnall · 7 months

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if it wasn’t for bad luck i wouldn’t have luck at all

part one | rated t | 1270 words | cw: parental death

all my thanks and love to my beloved @fragilecapric0rnn for beta-reading 💜 you're a rockstar and your feedback was so so helpful

Eddie was born under a bad sign. That’s what his momma always used to say. Friday the 13th, and in October? He never really stood a chance and neither did anyone else he got close to. He was like a black cat walking across their path.

[ keep reading below, or read on ao3 ]

His momma was first, of course. Cursed by the fate of Eddie’s birth from the very beginning. And if he hadn’t dawdled on the way home from school that day, if he had gone straight home just like he’d promised, if he hadn’t stopped to pick a bouquet of ditch weed wildflowers for her and got distracted by caterpillars and rollie-pollies— Well, maybe he would’ve been able to tell the 911 operator she was still breathing when he found her.

His daddy was next, not much long after. Eddie worshiped him like a hero in one of his fantasy stories, the charming, devil-may-care, down on his luck protagonist who stole from the rich and gave to the needy. But the first time Floyd brought him out on a real job, just the two of them, when all Eddie had to do was hot wire the getaway car after he heard the signal (three hoots like a barn owl), Eddie panicked. Did he say barn owl or barred owl? Was that two hoots or three? Why did the wires all look the same in the dark?

When the police cars painted him in their flashing red and blue lights, he dropped the wire cutters and ran. Floyd went down in a hail of bullets behind the car Eddie had been trying to steal, and Wayne got his own life sentence when the State dropped Eddie on his doorstep.

Uncle Wayne got the worst of it, obviously. Working himself to the bone, nights and weekends, to put Eddie through school. Not to mention senior year for a second and third goddamn time.

It was too late by the time young Eddie figured it out. By the time he decided to keep everyone at arm’s length.

It’s safer that way, for everyone.

Chrissy was just the latest in a long line. And he’d only lowered his guard an inch, a millimeter, when he saw someone just as lonely and desperate for a friend. He’d only barely started to let himself have an inkling of what an actual friendship with her might be like when—

This is exactly why Eddie doesn’t have friends. He has minions. He has little lost sheepies, he has twerps and shrimps. And that’s it. That’s enough. It has to be enough.

But all that changes the day he dies.

Or maybe it’s the day he finally wakes up. His new birthday, welcomed to the world once again in a cold, bright, sterile hospital room.

And really, the way he sees it, it’s all Henderson’s fault.

The little shit wanders in every day at visiting hours and makes himself right at home. He props his cast up on Eddie’s bed, and steals the remote to change the channel on the ancient, minuscule tv over to cartoons, and then he just… camps out! All day!

The kid will not leave him alone, no matter how cold a shoulder Eddie tries to give him. He even broke down and explained everything to him. How he’s bad luck, he’s bad news. And people who get too close to him end up dead.

But maybe the painkillers they’ve got him on scrambled his brain as bad as the bats scrambled his guts, because Dustin steamrolls right over him.

“If curses were real, which they aren’t,” he posits in his professor voice, “Your dumb curse can’t try to kill me again. It already took a shot and it missed, and the worst I got was a busted ankle.”

Eddie opens his mouth to tell Dustin that’s not how curses work but—

“And what was its goal anyway? To get you alone and friendless, dead in a ditch? Well then, mission accomplished!”

Which is… weirdly comforting when he puts it like that.

Dustin brings with him a rotating cast of the rest of the fellowship. Eddie finally gets to meet Baby Byers and finds out he’s already been recruited to Hellfire before Eddie can even say hello.

More often than not, Steve tags along too since he’s already ferrying them all between the hospital and home. Usually after he’s spent some time with Red and the other kids in her room, he’ll drop by. To check on Dustin of course.

It’s not because he likes Eddie. Don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t even know him.

All that… before… it was just some harmless flirting to keep himself from completely losing it while he was on the run from homicidal bible-thumpers. And Steve was just humoring him.

So he hides behind stupid flirtatious remarks, easy to brush off when it’s always undercut with sly winks and salacious expressions. Enough to keep everything surface level. Keep him at arms length.

It doesn’t matter that his eyes still seem to linger on Eddie, even when he hasn’t said anything for a while. Or that he brings Eddie extra pudding cups from the cafeteria. It doesn’t mean anything when he stands in the doorway trying to finish one last story or joke, until the kids almost literally have to drag him out when visiting hours are over.

Because it turns out Steve is an incorrigible gossip. And Eddie’s not about to be the one to corrige him. Not when he brings an extra dr. pepper for Eddie every time he stops by the vending machine for a coke and gleefully tells Eddie which of the doctors, nurses, and shady government agents are sleeping together.

A can of coke he taps on the lid with a peculiar rhythm before he cracks it, every time.

“What’s up with that?” Eddie finally has to ask one day, when it’s just the two of them and the Price is Right.

Steve hums this confused little sound at him, tilting his head with furrowed brows as he takes the first sip.

Eddie repeats the pattern, tapping it out on his own can.

Steve blinks a few times, first at Eddie, then at the can in his hand.

“I didn’t even realize I did that,” he huffs out a laugh. “It’s uh… something my grandpa taught me when I was a kid. Y’know just for luck.”

The blood in Eddie’s veins freezes and he’s stuck like that for a painfully long moment. Propped up against the lumpy hospital pillows with his mouth half open, staring at Steve.

“For luck.” he says flatly.

“Yeah, so the fizz doesn’t explode when you open it.”

“And has that ever happened to you?” Aiming for flirty, aiming for scathing, aiming for anything that’s not desperation.

“Well no,” Steve says with an easy shrug and a conspiratorial smile, “that’s why it’s lucky. It’s like picking up a coin that’s face-down on the sidewalk.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s face-up, darlin,” Eddie says coyly, like every alarm bell in his head isn’t ringing a deafening cacophony.

“Nah see, you gotta leave those ones for someone who really needs the luck.”

“But then you get the bad luck.”

“Nah, doesn’t work that way,” Steve says, and fucking winks at him.

Eddie wants to shake him. What is wrong with him? He’s got it all backwards and it’s dangerous. How is he walking around like this?

Whatever, it’s not his problem. Steve can do whatever Steve wants. Eddie doesn’t need to protect him from himself. It’s not like they’re friends. And really, that’s the best way to protect him.

[ part two ]

[ also on ao3 ]

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kittyamore0 · 1 year

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Hi! Can i request a Slasher with a manipulative, attention seeking reader who will do anything for fame and kill which they already have? Slashers can be any you want!

A/N: ooh! I love the idea of this!

Slashers with a S/O who kills for fame:

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[PART I] RATING: SFW with NSFW mentions

FANDOM/GENRE: Slashers, dark romance, horror

TAGS: @kittiescrownedsoul

POV: Second person

WRITING STYLE: Headcanons

Characters: Carrie White, Jill Roberts, Micheal Myers, and Jason Voorhees

REMINDER: Do NOT transfer, translate, modify, copy or steal my work!

Reader: Quotes that you say will be colored.

Appreciation note: Thank you for 100 followers! Love you guys. Stay safe, healthy, and have fun!

CW: Blood, blood kink, weapons, manipulation, gore, killing, comiting crimes for fame, murder, GN! Reader, framing others, sexual themes, sex mentions

CARRIE WHITE

She puts it behind her, acts like it never happened.

You were quite popular at Carries school

You had a blog and everything

Among your followers was Carrie

She uses the library computers and even bought one for her use only

We can say she had a crush on you

A BIG one at that

She could see why you were popular at her school

You were kind, smart, pretty/handsome, but sometimes a bit...off?

You would disappear at times and take very long

You got jittery when someone asked where you were and what were you doing

But you quickly put on this 'nice' persona to throw the person off

Huh, weird.

Anyways

Another reason Carrie liked you was because you had helped her out many times

Whenever Chris would try and harass her, you'd stop Chris and defend Carrie

"Oh, c'mon. [Name!], why are you sticking up for shitty Carrie?"

"Because she never did anything to you or anyone else. Shes innocent, so leave her alone before I get Ms. Collins on your ass again, Chris."

cue angry chrissy

You were perfect in her eyes

Sometimes you two would hang out!

And she'd trust you enough to tell you about what her mom does

You obvi saw it as abuse, but you didn't say anything

When you asked her to the prom, she was thrilled

But Chris was so ever pissed

She just broke up with Billy to go to the prom with you, and you're going to the prom with CARRIE WHITE instead of her?!?!

So now she had to go back to Billy, and make a goddamn fool of herself by begging for him to come back!

She planned revenge, and how was she going to get revenge? Well, she planned to take your popularity away by making her more popular than you

You notice she started a blog and started copying trends and things you were doing

She started getting more followers, and thats when you realized what she was trying to do

You were absolutely mad!

Who did this dumb, whore think she is?!

You had to take care of this, and fast.

You invited Chris to coffee the next day and she complied

Carrie was at the library and you gave her a spare key to your house, but that meant that you had enough time to go home and freshen up

Clean up your messy, bloody tracks before greeting your girlfriend

By the time you and Chris finished having coffee, you offered a walk around the nearest park

It was night

You both were walking on a small bridge, before she started choking and scratching at her neck

You had poisoned her

She grabbed the bridge railing and tears spilled from her eyes

That's when you bashed the side of her head with a log, splashing blood on your face, and making her fall face first into the running stream

You used your oversized sleeve to hold the log, dropping it too into the river

By the time you got home, Carrie was there

Which threw you off

She wasn't supposed to be home yet

"Oh, [Name ]"

...

"Oh, my god. What happened to you?!"

"Uhm "

"Are you okay? Who hurt you?!"

"Carrie, let me ex "

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. We should go to the po "

"Carrie! I did it! I hurt someone..."

...

"W what...?"

“Chris, it was Chris.”

"The girl who...bothers me...?"

"Yes, and she, uhm, she did some things that got me really mad so i...had to..."

Carrie felt sick

Well, one half of her did. The other felt quite...relieved, for some reason...

Carrie didnt talk to you for days

But when she did, she just wanted to put it all behind her

You agreed and became more careful with your murders

You two continued going to prom together, the prank on Carrie didnt happen because Billy was too devastated to continue on

Ater prom, you convinced Carrie that her mother was abusive and that she should go with you

She did.

After all, she does trust you.

JILL ROBERTS

She loves it! You're just like her. You're both soulmates!!

Fell inlove with you instantly

She first found your blog and became an admirer

She found out about your love of the stab movies and what happened in Woodsboro

What happened to her attention seeking cousin, Sideny Prescott...

This couldnt have been a coincidence, right?

Where you two...soulmates?

She loved seeing your post, and would fangirl over your outfits, what you were doing, etc...

She sent you many gifts

All labeled 'Secret admirer'

You thought it was really cute

Always making videos about the gifts she sent you

She was happy to see you liking her gifts

Especially the ghostface mask, plushies, knives, fake blood

She would dream about being ghostface partners with her

With her upcoming plans for Sidney returning back to Woodsboro

And surprisingly, you were also visiting Woodsboro

When she found out, she was absolutely estatic

Where did you live?

Oh, well, luckily you posted a video about showing your front house

She saw the address on the nearby sign that was still on your lawn.

One morning, she happened to stumble across your house

And thats how you met her

She expressed her love for you and your blog right away

"Im such a big fan!"

"You know, im the one who sent the knife, fake blood, not really fake..., ghost face mask, shirt, etc..."

"Oh, really?"

"Yea!"

You found her big liking, love, for you really cute.

So you invited her out to coffee and she was so excited

Practically bouncing off the ground

Kirby had never seen her so happy

You two practically hit off when you met on that coffee date

And you two ended up becoming close friends

Enough that she has caught you murdering one of your haters

But you never knew she knew that

She honestly found it hot

And thats when she brought her master plan to kill Sidney, make herself, and you, famous

You loved it, like she expected

The perfect ghost face duo.

MICHAEL MYERS

A bit annoyed, but mostly doesnt care

He finds it hot

Sex after you've killed

Wants to keep the blood on you if you got messy because BLOOD KINK

No excuses

We all know Micheal would not have a clue on who you are

But, while killing his victims, the computer was on

He managed to catch a glimpse of it and see your face on screen

Your video was playing

Your account was on display

We all know Micheal would not have a clue on who you are

But, while killing his victims, the computer was on

He managed to catch a glimpse of it and see your face on screen

Your video was playing

Your account was on display

He watched a few of your videos, before hearing police sirens

Yep. Victim material you are.

Yes, he wanted to kill you

So he started stalking you a lot

He noticed your habit of seeking out attention, more like fame, a lot

That got him curious about you

You still were gonna be his victim of course

Until...he caught you slaughtering this famous blogger

Damn.

He didnt expect that coming

He just watched you in silence as you stabbed that persons stomach over and over again

After that, he couldnt bring himself to kill you.

Dammit. Why?

He doesnt even know the answer to that himself

And for you, you've known hes been stalking you

So one day, while he was stalking you, you saw him in position and waved at him

While smiling

He just tilted his head in response

How amusing.

from there he realized what hed been feeling

Hes got a harmless crush on you, and lust

So while you were alone, vulnerable, he just happened to sneak into your house

You caught him standing there, head tilted, in your dark hallway

"Hello, Michael,"

You smiled sweetly at him.

JASON VOORHEES

He was annoyed at first, still is a bit

Why? Well, you posted about going to Camp Crystal Lake

So now there were a bunch of weirdos camping there, and trying to meet you 'out of the blue'

When you did get there, he stalked you for a bit

Why werent you going through any of his traps?

What the hell

I mean, he did want you to last a little longer because of how pretty/handsome you were

Maybe you werent so bad

He saw how you were gentle with nature, even though it was only to avoid his traps

When you visited the lake, the first thing you did was pray...for him.

You said you felt bad...felt bad when he drowned

"You didnt deserve that,"

...

Oh.

How...sweet.

You werent like the other people who had stepped on Camp Crystal Lake

(Not me feeling like a pick me from saying, 'You werent like the other people ')

(SORRY LMAOO)

Anyways, those people were disrespectful

Drinking, partying, fucking, doing drugs. In a place that belonged to Jason and was not for horny teenagers or adults

But you...you respected the camp and...him.

He didnt want to kill you anymore and just let you be

Though, you heard his foot stomp of the branch

Fuck.

"Whose there?!"

He grunted and sighed under his hockey mask

He came out of those dark shadows and let you see him

You just stared at him, eyes bulging out of your sockets.

"Jason?!"

He nodded

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god!"

You laughed in disbelif

"Im meeting a dead person?! And...even if you are lying and just pretending, holy shit!"

He just shook his head

"Can i take a picture?!"

He shook his head once again, cue a frown-y you

"I get it...but can i stay here?! Oh, my god. I always wonder about dead people, how they work and and stuff!"

He didnt see a problem with it, so sure.

He nodded

"Thank you!"

you squealed with excited

"You're gonna like me. We're gonna be friends!"

He didnt nod nor shook his head, but he shrugged.

Meh.

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joelswritingmistress · 9 days

Text

Camp Crystal Lake: Chapter 7

Requested by @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz

Joel Miller x f!reader (romance/horror)

Setting: Camp Crystal Lake

The night was low key. I could tell everyone was at least a little tired from working, and playing, in the hot sun all day. Mark sat on the porch with a book in his lap, and as I entered the cabin from exploring the grounds a little I saw Vicki wander over to sit beside him.

When I entered the cabin, Jeff and Sandra sat in the living room toying with an old record player. Scott laid the length of the couch with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. I saw he had an ear pod in and was gently bobbing his head to whatever music was playing.

Joel looked over his shoulder from where he was retrieving hot dogs and hamburgers from the fridge and smirked subtly at me as I entered. I smiled back and toyed with a few stray strands of hair by my forehead.

“(Y/N),” Sandra called, waving me over.

I wandered over toward where she held a few albums in her arm like a pair of books. “Hey, did you guys get in trouble?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head. “Nah. Joel just told us not to go back over there.”

“Did you see anything creepy?”

“We didn't get that far,” Jeff claimed. “The cop picked us up before we could go inside any of the old cabins.”

“Anyone want burgers or dogs?” Joel asked aloud. He held a package of hotdogs in the air as we all glanced over.

Jeff held a hand up and then Sandra did the same. I gave a nod and Scott sat up from where he laid.

“Food?” He asked, removing his ear pods.

Joel snickered and confirmed with a nod. “Food.”

Annie appeared at the top of the open staircase toying with her damp, towel-dried hair. “Shower’s free if anyone needs to get in.” Her croc-clad feet peppered down the stairs. “I'll be back in a little bit.”

“You want anything to eat?” Joel asked her.

“I made myself a big salad about an hour ago,” she claimed. “And I'll probably have a s'more or two when I get back.”

“Beware of Ralph,” Joel said to her, half-kidding.

“Ha ha.” Annie threw her hair up into a high bun. “If I see him, I'll give him an ice cream sandwich. I'm going to check out the ice cream inventory.”

“Take a break,” Joel encouraged. “Do it in the morning.”

She waved a hand at him. “I'll be twenty minutes.”

“Mark,” Jeff shouted through the screen of the porch window. “You guys want hot dogs and burgers?”

“One of each for me,” he called back.

“I'll take a cheeseburger if you're offering,” Vicki said next.

“You hear that boss?” Jeff asked Joel.

“Loud and clear.”

“Where's Teri?” I looked around the open floor plan.

“Upstairs,” Sandra claimed.

“Anyone want to give me a hand bringing some of this stuff out to the grill?” Joel asked.

Jeff began to raise his hand but Sandra nudged his stomach with her elbow.

“Ow,” he said quietly, glancing at her.

“Go,” Sandra whispered to me, as Joel nonchalantly retrieved cheese, lettuce and tomato from the fridge.

I chuckled and cleared my throat. “I'll help,” I volunteered.

“Great, thanks,” Joel said back.

I gazed at Sandra and we shared a smirk. I pulled her in to whisper discreetly. “We need to talk later.”

“What happened?” She whispered back.

“I'll tell you later.”

Joel and I made eye contact across the room and I wandered over to grab two oversized dishes he’d laid out. When he placed a knife on top of them I glanced up at him.

“Might need you to slice a tomato or two while I heat up the grill,” he explained.

“No problem.” I retrieved the lettuce and tomato, scooped up the plates and followed him out the back door onto a little deck. The light by the back door illuminated the grilling area as the atmosphere darkened under the cover of the trees.

I placed the plates down on a small table beside the grill and retrieved a tomato as Joel squatted to turn the gas tank on. My back was to him as I began to slice the red sphere. My body stiffened and I felt a rush of adrenaline power through me when Joel’s hand topped mine on the knife. His body brushed up against mine and I let out a breath without looking back.

Joel’s hand pressed down and I went with the motion, cutting the tomato once, twice, three times.

“You’re very good at that,” he practically purred in my ear. Feeling his breath land against my neck as he spoke made me weak in the knees, and my toes curled beneath my white Nikes.

I swallowed hard, taking completely off guard but also totally on board with Joel’s advances. “Thank you,” I choked out.

“I knew how you felt about me the second I met you,” he spoke quietly. His fingers tucked a few stray strands of hair behind my ear.

There was no use in denying it. “How?” I whispered back.

“A man can tell.”

A man. He certainly was a man. The tumultuous emotions that brewed inside of me were unlike anything I’d ever felt before when it came to sex, romance and dating. My whole body was hot and if there would have been no repercussions I would have uncharacteristically turned and jumped his bones right there.

The knife left my hand and he turned my body to face his. Joel dove in for a kiss, an extension of what was interrupted in the shed by the sheriff earlier in the day. I had been thinking about it ever since.

Can anyone see us? The concern was a fleeting one and I continued to indulge in him until Joel was the one to pull back with a breath. When he proceeded to peck my lips just after I wasn’t ready for it and simply closed my eyes without reciprocating. His hand landed on the side of my face and my eyes flickered open again. Joel let out a breath through his nose.

“Are you involved with anyone?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. Are.. you?”

Joel mirrored my response. “No.”

“Good.” I laughed lightly as I said that.

“You, uh.. You want to agree to a summer romance?”

I laughed a little louder and Joel laughed with me. “What are the terms of that?”

“Why don’t we make them right now?”

“Okay.” I felt my body heat up even more and I couldn’t keep a wide grin from my face.

“Don’t pursue anyone else at the camp.” The statement came out sort of as a question, “And I won’t either.”

I nodded. That was more than reasonable. “I’ll agree to that.”

“Unless you’re not into this once we try-”

“I’m into it,” I said right away, making him chuckle. I added, “A man really can tell, I guess because I’m.. very into this.”

“Good.” Joel smirked, “Because I am, too.” He pulled me back to him and our lips met again. I could feel him smiling into the kiss the same way I was.

“Do we have to keep this, like, a secret?” I asked.

“Doesn’t Sandra already know?”

My eyes widened and I swallowed hard. “Well.. not.. Exactly.”

“She’s smart,” Joel said with a smirk, “She knows.”

“Well, she’s suspected.. I didn’t say anything.”

“We’re all adults here,” he reminded me, “I’m just the organizer of this place. You all seem like good workers so there’s no favoritism.” Joel toyed with my hair again, “As long as you’re not embarrassed about it, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Because of our age difference.”

I laughed lightly, “No guys in their twenties made me feel what you’ve made me feel in the short time I’ve known you.”

Joel looked pleased by my words and smiled smally, mostly to himself. It almost looked like he was giving himself props in his mind. It made me chuckle again.

“So.” He held a hand out in front of him, “Do we agree to the terms?”

I glanced down and shook his hand. “I agree.”

“And you’re a townie, like me,” Joel added. “So, if things go really well, maybe we can even go apple picking in the fall.”

My heart grew a size. “I’ll be around.”

“Good.” He leaned in and kissed me lips again as he reached for a spatula.

“Good.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@gissellec1 @cattt777 @mellymbee @armybts20137@bbiophiliaa @littleblackcatinwonderland @mermaidgirl30 @brittmb115 @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz @beltzboys2015-blog blog @lwfics @pedropascal111 @mellymbee @itscatrodriguez-thepearl

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

Note

Hey Salome! 💖

A while ago you recommend 'Still Waters', this absolutely outstanding Friday the 13th fic on ao3. And I *devoured* it. It was fantastic, thank you so much for sharing! So after that I scouered ao3 for some more Jason and found 'Even Old Wounds Can Heal, And Dead Hearts Can Feel' (archiveofourown.org/works/16026146/chapters/37403114). Jason is so damn sweet but still his slashery self, the reader is a great character, the smut is very good and realistic and it has goats, that play a major role. And the bittersweet ending had me bawling my eyes out. Just a beautiful love story. Maby you know it already. But if not, perhaps you or someone else here enjoys it too. 😊💕

I'm familiar with it, and while nothing can top Infernalitae's Still Waters for me it's very good and sweet! Thank you for the rec, I'm sure there are some Jason Voorhees lovers lurking here somewhere! I mean... C'mon 💗

#answered #fic rec #jason voorhees #friday the 13th

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boxofbonesfic · 1 year

Photo

𝔅𝔬𝔵𝔬𝔣𝔟𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔓𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰: 𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 13𝖙𝖍 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A list of all of the wonderful entries for my first annual Friday the 13th Challenge! I will be updating this list annually to catalogue all of the wonderful work my friends and peers have submitted.

2023 Fics:

Talking to the Moon (Werewolf!Lloyd Hansen x Reader) by @boxofbonesfic. Summary: “Run,” Lloyd gritted the word out to you through teeth like knives as his hands became claws, scoring into the expensive leather steering wheel. “Run so I can catch you.”

Wax and Wane (Werewolf!Andy Barber x Reader) by @boxofbonesfic. Summary: “You were drawn to Andrew Barber like a moth to flame, and now that everything you were is burned away, you cling to him in the ashes.”

Undying Change (Vampire!Bucky x Hunter!Reader) by @geminixevans-stan. Summary: “Reader was on a mission, a mission that caused her to lose to a being that she hated.”

Wherever you will go (Andy Barber x Reader) by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor: Summary: “Your vacation isn’t the escape you thought it was.”

The Night Shift (Thor x Reader) by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor. Summary: “You work the night shift at the local museum and not all history is dead.”

Sleepy Hollow by (Stalker!Ari Levinson x Reader) @onsunnyside. Summary: “Beware the quiet ones.”

Fox Fire (Dark!Thor x Reader) by @syntheticavenger. Summary: “Despite repeated attempts to access a forbidden forest, approval comes with a cost. One that has been centuries in the making.”

No Motive (Serial killer!Stucky x Reader) by @moosereblogsfics. Summary: “Surprise, Sidney!”

Witchview (Steve x Reader) by @buckets-and-trees. Summary: “You wanted out before, but now you were compromised as the bait in your own trap and were becoming desperate for freedom. As he had said famously, the price of freedom was high. Desperation was dangerous. Desperation was fed by hope. Desperation erased the limits of reasonability. You had crossed lines, and you wouldn’t stop now.”

It will come back (Old God!Lee Bodecker x Reader) by @slyyywriting. Summary: “Don't let it in with no intention to keep it. Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it. Honey, don't feed it. It will come back.” -Hozier, It Will Come Back

The Stalker (Bucky x Reader) by @winter-soldier-101

Safety Measures (Dark!Vision x Reader) by @springdandelixn. Summary: “The security system you had installed in your apartment was done to keep your stalker away. Little did you know, he's already made his way in.”

Something’s not right with Mrs. Barber (Andy Barber x Siren!Reader) by @scandinavianfairytale. Summary: “Sometimes ignorance is bliss. Especially with a wife like you.”

K I L L B I L L (Andy Barber x Dark!College Student Reader) by @geniedetails. Summary: “hate to see you happy if I’m not the one drivin’.”

And all was lost (Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader) by @witchywithwhiskey. Summary: “you must make it through the forest without being caught, lest you be forced to give in to whatever dark desires reside in your captor's heart.”

Pretty Thing (Dark!Charles Blackwood x Curvy!Reader) by @bellasburdens.

Impatient (Lloyd Hansen x Reader) by @flordeamatista. Summary: “There is no breath or glare in the world, but only a faint demonic memory.”

#challenge masterlist #friday the 13th challenge #fic recs #author recs #cevans characters #cevans fandom #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu au #horror au #horror

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slasherberry-shortcake · 1 year

Text

●∘◦❀◦∘●How To Escape A Killer (Jason Voorhees x Male! Reader●∘◦❀◦∘●

Hello everyone! Here's my new fic, feat. Jason! The reader is intended to be male but has no pronouns so it can be read as gender-neutral.

This will be a shorter fic, I hope you enjoy! 2nd person point of view

FEM DNI PLEASE

CW: Blood and gore mentions

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

It was an early summer morning, slight rain pouring through the cool, frosted air. Wind blew through the tall trees, causing the branches of the evergreens to sway and bend. It was beautiful in the morning, you had seen days like this but every time you saw it again, it felt new. You were a new counselor at the camp, but you had lived around the area for a while before taking this job. You wanted to inspire the kids to enjoy the outdoors like you had when you were younger, and you felt like this was one of the best ways to do it. Before applying you researched the history of the camp, the history of the land, and what it truly meant to be a counselor. You felt educated enough for the position (not that there was truly much competition against you or anything) and you knew that this would be the best job for you.

It was your first day as a counselor when the rain hit, and that made you more upset than you thought it would. You loved the rain, obviously, but not when that meant that those kids who you wanted to teach about the outer world were forced to sit inside and make crafts. It was ironic to you, that the world felt like you deserved to be tried like this. You knew it wasn't a big deal, but it still was a hole in your dam.

You stared wistfully out of the clear window, the rain pouring onto the previously dry dirt, creating a thick muck outside on the the campgrounds. Internally, you groaned, knowing that this meant you would have to clean the cabin floors later. You didn’t mind good old labor, but you definitely didn’t prefer it. You glanced towards the kids making crafts, seeing a few of the sketching out whatever they wanted to draw. You looked around, trying to locate any of your co-counselors, sighing as you heard them giggle from the other room. Of course, day 1, inside and stuck with all the kids alone. “This will get better,” you whispered to yourself as a boy began to cry after spilling his paint water, “this will get better.”

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

After cleaning up the mess in the craft room and watching a long movie with the kids, it was their curfew. You watched as another counselor took the kids through the rain, heading towards the campers’ cabins. You finally got to go back to your cabin, take a shower, and just relax.

You got your coat and umbrella, wishing a goodnight to the kitchen staff as you left, your shoes slopping through the thick mud. Each step made a high squelch, your nose wrinkling in disgust at the vile sounds. You finally made it to the cabin, leaving your shoes on the side of the doorstep. You walked in, hearing immediate giggles and laughter from the other counselors. The counselors were supposed to be separated by sex, but naturally, what teenagers would listen to that? You grabbed your pajamas and headed to the shower, hoping to wash the pit out of your stomach.

You changed after your long, steam filled shower, opening the bathroom door. You heard obscene noises from the beds in the other side of the room, causing you to gag and make a beeline for your mattress. You collapsed against the firm bed, bonking your head against the wall as you did. You were relieved that no one decided to take your bed over, drifting to sleep as you gloated mentally about your victory.

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

A loud shatter jolted you awake, your bleary eyes shooting open. You heard a loud shriek, followed by a thud. You climbed out of bed, metal flashlight in hand as you went to inspect the source of the noise. The room was dark and you were afraid to turn on the flashlight, your main focus being to use it as a weapon. As you navigated forward, you felt your foot sink into a wet and squishy pile, shuddering at the feeling. ‘Someone probably tracked mud in,’ you thought to yourself, continuing forward. That shatter could have been anything, you thought it was probably just some of the counselors being too rough with their games or play-fighting. Yet as you approached the source of the sound, your stomach dropped. The window had been destroyed, pale moonlight shining upon a pile of mutilated corpses that you had recognized as your coworkers. Your breath hitched, eyes open wide as you gazed at the massacre in front of you. What happened?

You glanced down, seeing your foot covered in not mud, but thick red goop. You gagged and fell to the floor, the overwhelming stench of copper hitting your nose. You choked on the thick air, tears spilling from your eyes. You wondered who did this, how this happened, and if the kids were okay. You whipped around, flashlight facing towards the door. You lunged for the door, hand on the doorknob as you tried to escape the murder scene.

You almost pulled the door open as you felt a rough grip clench tightly around your shoulder. You gasped in shock and pain, your body thrashing against the attacker. Oh god, you were next. How were the kids going to make it out? Why was this the way you were going to die? How could this be your first day? Your captor heaved out heavy breaths, your flashlight finding itself on the floor, though you couldn't remember when it fell.

"P-Please," you plead, squirming in the strong grip of the intruder, "Please...l-let go of me!" At your begging tone, his hand tightened, your eyes adjusting to the softly moonlit room. You could make out his silhouette, a slight glint reflecting off of a large instrument he had in his right hand.

The moon escaped from behind clouds, more light gleaming into the room. The figure had a hockey mask on, his large body covered in dark blood. He breathed heavily, his muscled chest heaving and shaking with every ragged inhale. His head stayed still as he gazed at you, his shoulders tense and rigid. The strong scent of copper hit your nose, making you gag in disgust. The intruder dropped his machete and reached his other hand onto the back of your shirt, lifting you up to meet his eye level. What was he doing?

He stood in silence, examining every part of you that he could. You weren't sure why he hadn't attacked you yet. You slowly reached your hands up, trying to pry his iron grip off of you. "Please..." you gasped in fear, "p-please let me go. What do you want from me?"

He obeyed after a few moments of hesitation, releasing you onto the ground. He continued to stare, his head tilting very slightly in what seemed to be confusion. Why weren't you running yet? You glanced up at him, and back to the door. You ripped the wooden door open, panting as you sped away from the counselor's cabin. Why had he let you go? You looked behind yourself, seeing him watch you as you ran away in fear. He spared you.

#jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees x male reader #jason voorhees #slashers x male reader #slashers x reader #slasher fic #slashers #friday the 13th #fanfiction #fanfic #fem dni

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springdandelixn · 1 year

Text

Safety Measures

Summary: The security system you had installed in your apartment was done to keep your stalker away. Little did you know, he's already made his way in.

Warnings: dark themes ahead, deception, stalking, allusions to noncon, creepy vibes, nothing too worrying really but do tell me if I missed something.

Characters: Dark!Stalker!Vision x F!Reader

W/C: 1.2K +

A/N: Written for @boxofbonesfic Friday the 13th Challenge. Shoutout to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for she initially thought of this plot and shared it with me during one of my Vision highs haha

Side Note: Victor Shade is Vision's human name.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! 💙

“I think we are all set,” Mr. Shade says as he climbs down from his step ladder, tucking the screwdriver in his back pocket. “The cameras have a view of your kitchen and living room as well as your front door and the balcony.” He adds the information and you stare up at him, his words giving you a sense of relief and security.

“I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Shade.”

“Please, call me Vision.” He says with a light chuckle, storing his things back in the large toolbox. “If you don’t mind me asking, it’s for our survey, but why are you having a security system installed?”

His question makes you swallow thickly as the memories from the past months come to light. How innocent everything all started; random gifts left at your doorstep and soon after, at your workplace. Then the text messages started coming in, how this mysterious person would know where you were and what you were doing at the exact moment.

Then the gifts began to become suggestive; different sets of lingerie, that to your surprise, fit you to a tee, with pairs of heels to match the outfit. But the most shocking one of all was a sex toy, wrapped in the most intricate and pristine packaging you’ve ever seen.

Until we meet, pretend it’s me.

The note that came with it said and you immediately called up Sabrina and her boyfriend to pick you up from the apartment, fear encasing you that the stranger would show up any moment. You even changed your number the day after, hoping that it would deter, what you think is your stalker, to a degree and stop altogether.

But it didn’t.

“Miss?” You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Vision call your attention, your hands fidgeting as you think of how to respond.

“There were reports of break-ins around the neighborhood a couple of days ago and I just want to have that extra security to feel safe.” It’s not the truth but not all of it is a lie.

He hums at your explanation, a look of thought painting on his face and you visibly flinch when he snaps the toolbox close.

“I see. Well, I do assure you that our system is top of the line and no one will ever come in and out of your home undetected.” The smile he gives you is a comforting one and you can’t help but feel thankful for his assistance.

He gives you a final rundown of everything he’s installed, showing you each corner where a camera can be found. You nod in understanding as he explains to you how to use the control panel and you make a mental note of all the important details he shares.

“I guess that is everything.” He says with finality as he walks towards the front door. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Uhh—what about the payment?” You ask.

“I wouldn’t worry about that right now.” He states as he slips on his shoes. “We give our customers a one-month free trial for our services. And if everything is to your liking after the month, you can just give our customer service a call and they can finalize the transaction.”

“Oh, thank you so much. Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Nothing more for now.” His blue eyes shine against the afternoon light when he looks down at you. His blond hair falling over his eyes, and his brown, checkered shirt slightly rumpled from working all morning in your home. “But if anything happens, don’t hesitate to reach out.” He fishes out a card from his back pocket and hands it to you, seeing his name printed on the sheet. “That’s my personal line and you can call anytime.” You nod once more at his words and slightly tense when he rests his hand on your upper arm and gives it a light squeeze. “You stay safe now, miss.” He greets before turning to leave.

“I don’t understand. You said this was top-of-the-line technology.” You can’t help the irritation from slipping as you watch him tinker with the control panel in your bedroom.

“It is.” He simply answers but the lack of concern and conviction in his voice only makes you more anxious.

You want to believe that Vision didn’t install junky tech, you checked the website of their company and all the reviews have been nothing but great. Yet here you are, shaking in fear as your mind flits back to the moment you woke up; seeing a bouquet of yellow lilies laying beside you on your bed and the card with such an ominous note attached to it.

I’ll see you later.

You start to pace in your room as the sense of unease courses through your veins. You can’t stop thinking that something isn’t right, that you’ve made some grave mistake yet you cannot tell what, and the constant tapping of Vision on the pad of the console only adds to the tension that’s slowly enveloping you.

Then the clicking stops and you look up to see Vision staring inside your ensuite. You go to stand near him and follow his line of sight, seeing that he’s staring at the bin underneath your sink where the yellow petals poke out from within.

“You threw them.”

“What?” You look up at him curiously, your eyes suddenly growing wide when he turns to face you, his sapphires growing dark.

“I said, you threw them. The flowers.” He says in a calm voice, his head tilting to the side as his brows knit, confusion painting over his face. “Did you not like them, darling? Lilies are your favorite, right? The yellow ones to be exact. Or did I get them wrong?”

A deep chill creeps up your spine as his words slowly sink into your bones. How would he come to know of such a personal fact? You’ve only ever met him once, today being the second time. You barely even talked when he installed the security system yet he speaks as if he knows you on such an intimate level.

Unless—no.

It can’t be.

He can’t be.

You slowly back away as your blood is filled with fear, your body shivering when he takes a step in your direction.

“Did you get rid of the rest of my gifts as well?” His voice is steady and calm yet there’s a strength to it, making the tension in the room thicken further. “Were they not to your liking, darling?”

“I–it’s—” You try to speak but the words die in your mouth as fear completely takes over you.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He gives you a soft smile. “It’s just me.”

It’s as if your feet start to grow a mind of their own and you sprint towards your bedroom door. But a beeping sound echoes through the walls and your door suddenly shuts close, an audible click coming after, and tears immediately spring from your eyes as you grab the knob and try yanking it open.

“It’s no use, darling.” His voice is so close and you turn to face him, gasping when he plants a hand on the side of your head, standing only inches away from you. “There’s no escape.”

“Please—who are you?!” You cry. “Let me go! Please!”

“I can’t let you do that.” There’s amusement in his voice and he smirks as he moves to wrap his fingers around your throat, your hands grabbing his wrist as you try to pull away from his grasp. “I can’t let you leave.” He gives the sides of your neck a light squeeze, choking as you feel his fingers dig into your skin. “You can never leave me.”

#vision #vision mcu #vision x reader #dark vision #dark!vision #dark fic #victor shade #friday the 13th challenge #writing challenge #vision au #mcu au #coconut bun stories #safety measures

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