#Friday the thirteenth x reader

[amomentsescape]

Hey I love yanderes and slashers and used to have a sleep walking problem where I would try to crawl through windows, can you do a yandere slasher x reader where the reader has developed Stockholm syndrome and been loving to the slasher so they trust them and let them have more freedom. Then they see them try to crawl out a window in their sleep? How would they react? Would they believe the reader? What would make them believe them if they didn't? If they didn't believe them the how would they react to finding out the reader told the truth?

Thank you so much! And merry Christmas! 🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅

Slashers with Reader Who Sleepwalks & Tries to Leave

Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, of course. Mentions of abusive behavior

A/N: Merry (late) Christmas! I hope you all had a great holiday! For this request, I decided to leave Eric out. He's just the complete opposite to a Yandere in my opinion, and it was nearly impossible for me to write him as such. I hope that's okay!

Freddy Krueger

He knows you would never purposefully leave him

Like, he actually knows

His (undead) life revolves around sleep

He knows when you're awake and where you're actually sleeping, even if he keeps you stuck in his dream world

So when he finds you trying to escape out of the little window he built for you, he just laughs

He had already known you sleep walked

He'd been haunting your dreams for weeks prior to actually taking you

Freddy just keeps watching you, not really doing anything about it

You're stuck in his world either way

Might as well see how far you'll go

He'll almost use this as a test of sorts

He'll let you wander to wherever you want to go in your sleep, and he may even change the environment to something you don't recognize

When you wake up, his name better be the first thing that falls from your lips

If it's not...

Well, he'll just have to try harder at getting you to need him

Michael Myers

It took a very long time for Michael to get to this point

The fact that he lets you sleep without chains is a huge decision on his part

He doesn't trust easily

And any feelings of trust he did have come crumbling down the moment he wakes up without you beside him

It didn't take long to find you

There you were, pushing and prodding at the boarded up window

He's truly pissed

And a little hurt

He really thought you were growing to actually like your situation

But when he spins you around and sees your eyes staring blankly through him, he tilts his head

You don't seem... right?

He'll shake you harshly until he sees the life come back to your eyes

When you finally look up at him with a similarly confused look on your face, he starts to realize

He understands you well enough to know when you're not acting like yourself

When he finally explains what you were doing after you repeatedly asked him, you sigh

You explain that sometimes at night, you wander around without realizing it

A sleepwalker, huh?

Sadly, the chains will need to come out again

Jason Voorhees

You wouldn't actually leave him, right?

You seemed so caring

He actually believed you when you said you needed him

But here you were, trying to leave your shared home in the middle of the night

He almost breaks down as he picks you up and takes you back to your room

He finds it a bit odd that you don't fight back at all, but he assumes you just don't care to

He locks you up and makes sure that you can't go anywhere

How could you do this to him?

When you wake up the next morning in chains and not in your shared bed, you begin to cry for Jason

He tries to ignore you, but he can't bring himself to hear your sad voice calling out to him

You try your best to tell him that you don't remember what happened, and that you would never leave him

And maybe he's too trusting, but he believes you

You just seem so sad and so genuine that it's impossible for him to think it's anything other than honesty

You couldn't be that stupid anyways

You'd get lost in those woods alone at night, he knows that

So he just has to believe you

He loves you, and love means trust, right?

Thomas Hewitt

But you were being so sweet to him just hours before

How could you lie to his face like that?

He wakes up without you in his arms, and he just about loses it

Frantically searches for you around the house and finally finds you at one of the nailed in windows

He pulls you away quickly, staring at you sadly

He's waiting for an explanation, but you don't say anything

You just stare

You weren't acting like yourself

He pushes you back towards the bedroom and you walk the rest of the way yourself, climbing back into bed with ease

He's confused, but decides to see if it will happen again

You can't leave anyways

The whole house is locked up, and you don't even know where the keys are

You act just like your normal self the next day

And that night, you're back to walking around with a blank stare

He figures this just might be a thing you do

Doesn't really try to stop you, but he does follow you most nights to make sure you don't accidentally hurt yourself

On nights he wants you in bed, he ties some old fabric around your ankle and holds you tight while you sleep

You might not ever know about your late night adventures unless he decides to tell you

Bubba Sawyer

He's quite literally blubbering to you

He's crying, he's frantic, he even shakes you a bit, and you just stand there not responding

He keeps waiting, and when you start to just wander around again, he loses it

What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?

He ties you back into bed and stays up the rest of the night, watching you

The next morning, he confronts you stressfully

You keep telling him over and over that you don't know what he's talking about

But he refuses to believe you

(He wants to believe you, he's just scared)

He only finally realizes you were being honest when in the middle of the day during your nap, he finds you wandering back to the window with his whole family watching you

You weren't stupid

Why would you try to leave when literally everyone could see you in broad daylight?

His family begins laughing and saying things like "looks like you got yourself a sleepwalker"

So you weren't purposefully trying to leave him?

He cries tears of joy and spends the next couple of days pampering you and giving you just about everything you want

He does his best to show you that he's sorry

Brahms Heelshire

It's quite literally known that Brahms has abandonment issues at this point

So when he catches you climbing up onto the window sill

He loses it

Will grab you and roughly pull you off, your body falling to the ground

This immediately wakes you up, your eyes searching around frantically

When you see Brahms standing above you, you try to reach for him, but he only shoves you away

You look so sad and confused at this, but Brahms is too stubborn to give in

He starts tying you up again each night, still very hurt that you would try to leave like that

It takes weeks for you to gain his trust again

And the one night he lets you sleep freely, he catches you by the window again

But instead of grabbing you immediately, he decides to just watch

He wants to see how far you'll go so he knows just how severe your punishment will need to be

But instead, you just give up on unlocking the window (it was jammed), and you just turn around and walk straight back to bed, not even registering Brahms being right there

This is odd

You need to explain the concept of sleepwalking to him the next day

He still remains skeptical for a while, but he'll come around

You just need to be extra attentive for a while...

Norman Bates

Norman already knows a lot about sleepwalking

(It's what he thought was going on for a while when he couldn't remember large chunks of time throughout the week)

When he finds you opening a window in the middle of the night, he bolts at you, ready to lock you back up in one of the motel rooms again

However, when you don't respond or reveal any emotion on your face, he immediately knows what's going on

He's surprised

He didn't know you'd be a sleepwalker

He decides to just lead you back to bed, knowing that waking you isn't the best idea

Sits you down the next morning and talks with you about it

When you seem very apologetic, he uses it to his advantage

Has you cuddle up with him even more than normal and stay by his side at all hours of the day

He still gives you some freedom

But he's always watching

He does take some precautions and ties your wrist up in the middle of the night

He has to, for your safety of course

Billy Loomis

To be honest, you don't make it very far

Billy has an iron grip on you at all times, and he's a light sleeper

The moment you get up, he's awake, observing you carefully

Sometimes you have to pee in the middle of the night, but he still makes sure you aren't lying to him

His ability to trust is practically in the ground

The moment you turn the wrong way, he's up and chasing after you

Were you that dumb? You knew he watched you every time you got up from bed

He grabs your wrist quickly and points a knife at your throat as a threat

He can't bring himself to actually hurt you though, not that you knew that

Or did you?

Because you just stand there not even moving away from the blade

Billy becomes very confused

He takes his hand and begins to wake it in front of your face, looking for some sort of reaction

You don't give him one

Are you still... asleep?

He shakes you a bit until you finally look at him, confusion written all over your face

You're a sleepwalker, aren't you?

He just rolls his eyes annoyed and drags you back to bed, not explaining anything

Just another thing he needs to look out for now

You sometimes wake up to bruises on your hips and waist from how hard Billy holds you in the night, but he's just trying to protect you, right?

He doesn't mean to hurt you, he just refuses to lose another person in his life

Stu Macher

Stu literally sleeps on you, so it's nearly impossible for you to leave the bed most nights

But if you somehow wiggle your way out, you wouldn't make it outside the house

The windows have been nailed so that they only open a small amount

When he finds you the next morning, curled up under a partially opened window, he just smiles

Call it naive, but he just assumes you were getting too warm in the bed

When you wake up in a confused state however, he becomes concerned

What do you mean you don't remember opening that window?

He honestly just becomes more worried that there's something wrong with your memory rather than you trying to leave him

He'll likely talk to Billy about it

He just hears laughter from the other end of the phone

"Sounds like they sleep walk," he'd say

Stu does a bunch of research on it later

He doesn't really mind though

All of the unsafe objects are already hidden away, and every possible exit is locked down

You aren't going anywhere

If anything, he finds it fun to wake up some mornings and look around for you

It's like a game, and Stu loves games

[that-opossum-bitch]

stockholm syndrome being a "rare psychological disorder" is some bullshit because I feel like it's very natural to watch a horror film and want to fuck him.

[cece693]

Social Recluse (Jason Voorhees x M! Reader)

Just something that came to mind. Short.

Summary: Even if you accepted Jason and his 'hobby', he understood you didn't like interacting with people. Staying hidden in your cabin, luck isn't on your side when a camp counselor stumbles inside.

tags: the reader doesn't like people, comforting Jason, you get injured (small), short work

Jason was off doing his usual thing—taking care of the camp counselors—while you kept to yourself in the cabin, avoiding the social chaos that always made you uncomfortable. Suddenly, the door burst open, and a bloodied figure stumbled inside, immediately setting you on edge. You retreated into the shadows, watching as the girl frantically searched for something, likely a weapon, before flicking on the lights.

"Ahh!" she screamed, but her panic quickly shifted to relief. "Thank God you're not that freak!"

A frown crossed your face. How dare she insult your lover?

You remained silent, your eyes tracking the girl's every move as she nervously paced around the cabin. She tried to engage you, her voice trembling with fear. "Hey, are you okay? Did he…did he hurt you? Oh God, did he cut out your tongue or something?"

Her words barely registered. You didn’t flinch, didn’t speak. The quiet unease of the situation settled around you like a second skin. She probably assumed you were just another of Jason's victims, traumatized and mute, which suited you fine. You had no intention of correcting her.

Suddenly, the door crashed again, and he was there—Jason. Massive, imposing, and silent as ever. His machete gleamed under the dim cabin light, still slick with blood. Her wide, terrified eyes darted toward you, and in her desperation, she lunged, grabbing your arm. The sudden contact made you flinch, recoiling instinctively. You hated being touched, especially by strangers, but she didn’t notice—too consumed by her own fear.

"Come on! We have to get out of here!" she cried, her grip tight as she dragged you toward the door, pulling you along in her misguided attempt to save you both.

But you didn't want to run. You didn’t need saving.

Jason’s heavy footsteps echoed behind you, and you could feel him gaining on the two of you. The girl’s breath came in panicked gasps as she pushed forward, desperately trying to escape. Then, it happened. Jason struck, and the girl screamed as she fell, the force of her collapse sending you tumbling to the ground alongside her.

You hit the floor hard, your knee scraping against the rough wooden planks. A sharp sting shot up your leg as blood oozed from the wound. You winced but remained silent, even as the pain radiated through you.

Jason’s shadow loomed over the girl, and it only took one swift motion to end her cries. Her body slumped to the ground, lifeless. The cabin fell into a sudden, oppressive silence, broken only by the faint sound of your own labored breathing.

Jason turned toward you, his expression unreadable behind that familiar hockey mask, but his actions were anything but threatening. He crouched beside you, his presence calming rather than terrifying. His gaze fell on your bloody knee, and without hesitation, he sheathed his weapon and gently reached out. His large hand carefully touched the area around the wound, touch surprisingly soft, as if afraid of hurting you further.

You remained still, watching him work in silence. There was no fear, no hesitation in your mind. Jason was dangerous, yes, but never to you. He seemed to sense your discomfort with the blood, with the girl’s corpse still nearby, and he positioned himself between you and the body, shielding you from the sight.

With the worst of the blood wiped away, Jason helped you to your feet, his grip steady, never forceful. He lingered close, a silent protector, knowing exactly how much interaction you could handle without feeling overwhelmed. "Thank you." You murmured, leaning your head against his chest. You only received a grunt before closing your eyes and falling asleep. Social interactions always took a large toll on you.

[slasherloony]

Headcanons for Cuddles with Bubba, Jason, Michael, and the Sinclair Brothers

OMG so like you won’t believe how these slashers cuddle! Like, it's a total vibe, for real. 💀💕

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is like, the best cuddle bear EVER. He’s big and warm and gives the best squishy hugs. 🐻

He likes to hold you tight and sometimes he makes these cute little happy noises. It's adorable!

Sometimes he’ll fall asleep holding you and it’s like being hugged by a warm, snuggly blanket. 💤

Jason Voorhees:

Jason is HUGE, like seriously, he’s a giant! But he’s super gentle when he cuddles you.

He doesn’t talk, but you can totally feel his love by the way he holds you close. 💕

He likes to stroke your hair and it’s surprisingly calming. Also, he’s like a human heater, so you’re never cold with him around. 🔥

Michael Myers:

Michael is kinda stiff at first, but once he’s comfortable, he’s all in for cuddles.

He doesn’t really know how to be gentle, so you kinda have to show him. But once he gets it, he’s super sweet. 🥺

He likes to lie down and have you on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat and it’s actually really soothing. ❤️

Bo Sinclair:

Bo is all about showing off, even when cuddling. He’s gonna make sure you’re super comfortable and probably tease you a bit.

He likes to wrap his arms around you and pull you close. He’s strong and makes you feel safe. 💪

He’ll whisper sweet (and sometimes naughty) things in your ear just to see you blush. 😳

Lester Sinclair:

Lester is like a big puppy when it comes to cuddles. He’s super enthusiastic and loves holding you.

He’s all about affection and will give you little kisses and nuzzles. 🐶

He likes to cuddle on the couch while watching TV, just being cozy together. 📺

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent is super shy, but once he trusts you, he’s the sweetest cuddle buddy.

He likes to draw while you cuddle, sometimes sketching you. It’s really romantic and artsy. 🎨

He’s super gentle and always makes sure you’re comfortable. He loves holding you and sometimes you fall asleep in his arms. 😴

All these guys are total softies when it comes to cuddles, and being with them is like having a squad of giant, protective teddy bears. 🧸❤️

Just random stuff i write...I'm so effing stupid.

[welcometowhore-rrorville]

𝒦𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝓃 𝐵𝑒𝒹

Featuring: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair 

Word Count: 1.5k 

Warnings: nsfw, mdni, smutty headcanons, virginity mention, dirty talk, rough sex, just general nasty things

Michael Myers

Let’s be honest—this man was a virgin before you showed up

He was in a mental institution from a young age—not exactly the best place to fuck

Still, that certainly didn’t stop him

He picked up on what to do fast—it’s not all that difficult

Still, he definitely focused on himself

Whether or not you came was not his problem

You have to take matters into your own hands when it comes to that, using your fingers to work at your clit

Most of the time your body is jostled around to much to do so

He’s not gentle

Whatsoever

Things will be broken

The bed?

A bone?

Who knows

You have so so many marks

Bruises

Cuts

You always look like you fell through a wood chipper 

It’s not like you could reason with him, though

“Hey, can you, I don’t know, be gentle for once and not fuck me against a countertop?”

Yea, that would go over well

He gets. . . better. . . eventually

Still mostly selfish

But may rub against your clit as he’s pounding into you

By accident?

Unclear

Expect to walk with a permanent limp

RIP

Definitely into knife-play

So many shredded clothes

C’mon, what’d you expect?

The mask stays on during sex

Obviously

If he’s super comfortable he might pull it up enough to bite you

But don’t expect to catch a glimpse of his face

After-care? What’s that?

You clean yourself up 99% of the time

The only time he’s ever done anything was when you passed out during sex and woke up in your bed

Other than that, you don’t expect him to provide any cuddles 

He doesn’t even sleep in the same bed at night

Jason Voorhees

Tries his best to be so so so gentle with you

Also a virgin before you showed up

Not many people were lining up to fuck an undead monster haunting a summer camp

He’s. . . big. . . everywhere

It takes a while before you’re even able to take him properly

It’s not that you were unprepared, but at the slightest flinch of your face Jason would pause and refuse to touch you again for hours

You made sure to explain that you were fine and that you weren’t made of glass

But he was still petrified of hurting you

Still, when he finally calms enough to fully fuck you one night, you’re seeing stars

He’s slow and cautious, but eventually something lights a fire within him

Rubs his masked face into your neck apologetically as he rams into you

When you’re walking funny the next day he carries you everywhere

You don’t blame him for getting carried away sometimes, and even enjoy a little roughness more-often-than-not

He tries his best with after-care but is pretty clueless as what to do with you

When you’re exhausted and curled in on yourself he thinks he’s permanently hurt you

You tell him gently to run you a bath

Will attach himself to your hip and snuggle you until one of you is forced to get up

Nestles his masked nose against any marks he may have caused, letting out a low whimper

You run your hand down his back

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.”

Tries to make your pleasure his number one priority

Will listen intently as you bashfully explain what you want and like

Does as told

He’s a little rough, massive fingers toying with your clit hard enough to have you wincing

But eventually he gets the hang of it

Refuses to cum until you have

Even when you’re giving him head, he always has to be touching you in some way, getting you off just as much as your getting him off

Sometimes he can’t help himself and cums before you, only to let out a low whine of disappointment, like he was ashamed of himself

You’re never far behind, anyways

One of the most selfless lovers you’ve ever had

The fact he doesn't speak doesn't even cross your mind

He gets his points across fine with his actions and occasional low rumbles 

And you were never much for dirty talk, anyway 

Bo Sinclair

He’s a wild-card 

Some days he’s feeling generous enough to nestle his head between your legs, other days he’s got you gagging on his dick until can’t breathe

You’re unsure of what impacts his attitude, every night getting ready to expect something different

You supposed he had a lot of things happen in life, you couldn’t blame him for being a little hot-and-cold about things

Regardless of what’s happening, he’s got a lot to say about it

If he’s not growling in your ear, teasing you with dirty words as he rams into you, then he’s moaning loudly against your lips or neck

You don’t think he’s ever quiet for more than a few seconds

What he says varies, too

Some days it’s nothing but praise

“Whatta good girl you are. C’mon, sweetheart. You can do it. Almost there—there it is, darlin’. Don’t you look like a beauty chokin’ on my cock?” 

“That’s it, beautiful. Keep sayin’ my name. Feel good, huh? Don’t close those pretty lips of yours. I wanna hear ya when I fuck ya.” 

Other days he’s grabbing your ass harshly, scolding you for muffling your moans against his neck

“The fuck you think you’re doin’? You’re nothin’ but a whore, don’t try ‘nd be bashful now.”

“What a slut. Look how wet you are for me. Gettin’ off on the thought of me fuckin’ you, bitch?”

It’s enough to give you whiplash

Still, you can’t complain that it’s boring

And it’s not like you don’t get your own enjoyment out of it

Whether or not he lingers after he fucks you depends on nothing in particular

Sometimes he’ll pull you close and press a kiss to your forehead, mumbling praises in your ear as he caresses your body

Other times he’ll put his boxers back on and rest against the door frame, just staring at you as you clean yourself up

He never leaves without making sure you’re alright, though

No matter how rough he was with you he gently traces over your body, making sure nothing hurt to bad

Then he’s back to his cocky self, trying to pretend he didn’t just treat you like a princess

There’s always marks littering your neck and shoulders

The sight of them is enough to let any tourists know to fuck off

You tried to cover them once with a high collared shirt but it only ended with more hickies and bite marks, this time high enough on your neck that even a turtle neck couldn’t hide them

He’s possessive, always having an arm or hand around you when talking to strangers that come by

He’ll, even around his own brothers he’s like that

He’s always smacking your ass or planting a kiss to your lips, leaving you to yelp in surprise

This man has a breeding kink

That’s just the facts

The thing is, the idea of having a kid makes him gag

He’s not a fan of the little gremlins

But something about you—thighs wrapped around his hips as he cums into you—the fullness of your cunt—the slight bulge of your belly—always gets him going

Maybe it’s the distant idea of raising a half-normal family for once

For now, you stay on birth control

Vincent Sinclair

He’s extremely introverted and self-conscious

You have to be the one to initiate most things

Even then he’s unsure of himself

He’s afraid he’ll scare you somehow

The first time you two are intimate it’s simply soft touches, your lips trailing over his skin as your hands stroke at his dick

It’s not sex

It’s too soft for that

You hated to use the word love-making, but you supposed that’s what it was

After his confidence is built up enough to take control, he catches on fast

He has a niche for precise finger-work, given his work as a sculptor, and has you cumming on his hands more times than you can count

He keeps his mask on 99% of the time

You don’t force him to do otherwise

It’s his comfort object

As long as he’s happy, you’re happy

Still, there are times where he pulls it off, only to hide himself between your legs

The first time he ate you out, he insisted upon a blanket draped over your bottom half, but he’s past that now, knelt down in front of you, fingers clutched against your thighs as he pushes his tongue further inside of you

You make sure to praise him every time he makes you feel good—wanting him to know it was him getting you off

It definitely helped his self-esteem

He’s still distant when others are around, but you’ve gotten to the point where you can sit in his lap and play with his hair while Bo lounges on the couch

Bo still gives you two playful taunts, but he’s just happy his brother found someone

Though he really needs to invest in some ear-muffs if you keep up with the moaning at god-knows-how-late-at-night

*cough* waxplay *cough*

[noxturnals-void]

✨ The way I wish that was me on his shoulder ✨

[slasherx]

may i request headcanons for reboot jason with a fem s/o who loves kissing him all over his face and neck 😍

I assume you mean 2009 Jason

Content: Jason Voorhees x fem!reader

Warnings: None

Notes: I couldn't find any GIF's of 2009 Jason :(

• ───────────────── •

Jason wasn't used to affection at all - he wasn't used to people liking him before, much less with all his kills now. So when you two got together it was a huge surprise for him.

Now he's sat on the couch with you, watching a movie. Popcorn in his lap, he was watching the movie intently. Being in the woods almost his whole life meant he missed out on a lot of things growing up, including media.

But however, once the credits of the movie rolled, you turned to him and gave him a kiss on his masked cheek. He grew stiff and looked at you through the corner of his eye. You giggled, noticing that, and kissed him again.

Jason was still getting used to you giving him affection, so he didn't know how to react. It was still kind of early into the relationship - only six months had passed. As he was thinking this to himself, you got up on your knees on the couch and moved closer to him, kissing him once more.

Then your lips began to travel. You leaned up to kiss his forehead, gently moved his head to kiss his other cheek, kissed where his mouth would be, kissed his masked nose, kissed around the eye holes, and then your lips traveled down his jawline.

Jason's red blush could rival the blood of his victims. He felt goosebumps rise on his arms as you went lower and lower. He tried to tune his mother out, who was chastising him for letting you get "too steamy" with him.

When your lips touched the bare skin on his neck, he jumped and put his hands on your shoulders. You gave him a few more kisses before he finally pushed you away and shook his head. Fearing you crossed a line, you sat back on your knees with a frown on your face.

"I'm sorry Jase, I didn't realize I was making you uncomfortable. I won't do it again, promise."

Jason then waved his hands and tried to explain that he was okay until you touched his neck, but he ended up getting frustrated. He let out an angry grunt and stood up, popcorn forgotten about on the table. He stomped through the house, ripping through drawers until he foud what he wanted.

Sitting back down with you on the couch, he showed you a page out of the notebook he quickly scribbled in to communicate with you. It read, I was okay until you touched my neck. Sensitive.

"Your neck is sensitive?" You asked.

Jason then nodded yes, then took the notebook back to scribble something else. He then shoved the notebook back in your hands for you to read. You did nothing wrong. I'm just sensitive. Keep kissing.

You giggled at the last bit. "Okay, Jase. I'll keep kissing you, but I'll keep in mind about your neck, okay?"

Jason nodded and bumped his head gently against yours, his way of kissing you himself.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!

[daisies-daydreams]

NSFW OF JASON VOORHEES BELOW ‼️‼️

Just imagine Jason’s massive cock drilling into your wet, tight pussy, spreading your walls open to the point where hot tears begin to pour down your face. He tilts his head whenever you cry, slowing down his thrusts until you grow quiet again…before he starts to pick up his pace.

His massive hands holding the back of your thighs, his fingers curling over your goose-bump ridden skin as he studied every twitch of your body, every curl of your toe. He relishes in the feeling of your slick gushing from your hole, slathering his cock before dripping down onto the sheets below.

Jason, who stares at you with his one good eye thorough his mask as his heavy balls slap against your puckering asshole, the power behind his thrusts making your cheeks clap loudly as you thrash around. He groans quietly as he feels your cunt grip and flutter around his impossibly thick girth, your back arching off the bed. His eye widens when he sees a massive bulge beneath your lower belly, his body stiffening as he grunts.

You shudder beneath him as he fills you with his thick, hot cum, his seed spilling past the seam where your sexes are joined as you fuck yourself on his dick, riding out your own high. He thrusts into your squelching cunt a few more times as his chest heaves, his body and mind completely overwhelmed as he shakes with pure ecstasy. He continues to hold and stroke your legs as he watches you come down from your orgasm, a melody of soft pants breath falling from your swollen lips as you catch your breath.

He eventually slides out of you, grunting at the loss of warmth and tightness around his shaft. He watches your hole curiously as his cum oozes out in spurts. Jason cocks his head to the side before sliding one of his thick digits against the rim of your hole. He sighed when he heard you moan as he pushed his spend back inside your sweet pussy…not wanting to waste a single drop.

[thewailingbells]

We’ll Meet Again

AN: This was multiple requests put into one, so if you recently requested something for Jason it should be included in some aspect into this!

You remember him—that sweet boy at Camp Crystal Lake. He was different from the other kids there, to say the least. His head was incredibly large, which, at the time, you assumed was due to some sort of disability. The kids teased him for it, and even the camp counselors made rude remarks about the physical appearance of the boy. You never did, though.

The first time you noticed him was during lunch in the cafeteria. All the kids sat together at different tables, eating and talking, except for him. He held a tray of food in his hands, and he nervously stood in the corner of the room. You saw one of the lunch workers crouch down next to him to comfort him. She seemed to be a young woman with bright, short yellow hair. She pointed to you, seemingly telling the boy to go sit next to you. You were sitting at a table all alone, and you wanted some new friends. You waved at him. He tried to hide behind the woman, but she wouldn’t let him.

The woman came up to you, gently pushing the boy in front of her. ��Hello, dear. My name is Pamela. Pamela Voorhees. This is my son, Jason. Would it be okay if he sat next to you?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, not knowing any better. You took in the way he looked; it was odd to you, but you remembered that your parents told you to never judge a book by its cover. You were also desperate for some friends. So, you nodded your head. “Yeah.”

Pamela smiled. The boy, Jason, hesitantly sat down in the seat across from you. Pamela patted his back. “You two have fun now; I need to get back to work.” She leaned down and kissed Jason on the cheek before leaving.

You introduced yourself to him, and he smiled. You began to talk to him about childish things. Your favorite cartoon, your favorite color, your favorite stuffed animal—anything you could think of. He chimed in sparingly. You realized very early in your conversation that he also had a speech impediment. You didn’t mind; it just meant you got to talk more. Before you could tell him about your favorite ice cream flavor, you heard some of the other kids at camp laughing and snickering. You turned your head and saw that they all seemed to be laughing at you, or rather laughing at your new friend.

Jason noticed too. He frowned and looked away. He buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore the stares. You reached out and rubbed his arm. “Don’t worry about them. They’re jerks. I got your back since we’re friends now!”

That’s what you told him. Throughout your month with him at Camp Crystal Lake, that was what you told him every day—that you would be there for him, but you weren’t. Not on Friday, the Thirteenth of 1957.

You were sitting on a bench next to one of the cabins, waiting for Jason. You sat on the bench, reading a book to keep yourself occupied. All of a sudden, a group of kids went running towards the lake. You put your book down and followed the hoard in an attempt to see what all the fuss was about. The kids ran to the dock. You stood on your tiptoes to try and see what was happening. You sighed; it was no use. You shoved yourself through the crowd; that was when you saw him.

It all happened so quickly. You locked eyes with him for a brief moment. There were looks of terror on both of your faces. One of the boys shoved him into the water. You screamed in horror. You began to run towards the water, but you were stopped. A boy behind you yanked your arm, pulling you backward. Before you fought back, you were pushed to the ground, and your vision turned black.

It was 1985. You weren’t sure why you came back to Camp Crystal Lake after all this time. Perhaps it was the feeling of guilt that you hadn’t been able to extinguish over the years. You stared at the “Do Not Enter” sign for quite some time. The camp was closed off due to murders that had previously happened a few years ago in the area. It wasn’t safe to be here; you knew that well, but you had to go. For him, for Jason.

As you stepped foot onto the grounds of the camp, you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you. You began to walk around the camp, searching for that spot. It took you a while; the camp was larger than you had remembered. Soon enough, you found it. Your heart skipped a beat.

The dock. The dock that Jason was pushed off of. You carefully began to walk across it. When you reached the end, you looked out into the body of water. The body of water that Jason had drowned in. You felt tears prick your eyes. It was too much to handle. You dropped to your knees, violently sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you wailed over and over again. “I tried to save you! I’m so sorry I couldn’t. Forgive me, please, forgive me.” You tried to catch your breath, but you couldn’t. You screamed at the top of your lungs. A scream full of sadness, anger, and frustration. “They were so cruel. So cruel to you. I’m sorry, Jason Voorhees. You were such a sweet boy,” you said while choking on your tears. “Your mother and I wept over you every day that summer. I wish I could’ve done more for you and her,” you said with a sigh. You wiped away your tears. “The people around here tell stories about you. They say you’re some kind of monster, a freak,” you began to cry again, “but you’re not! You never were! You were my best friend. I miss you, Jason.”

Little did you know, the man you cried for on the dock was watching you. He remembered you. The girl from summer camp. You came back for him. Since his mother’s death, he has felt something in his heart, possibly a feeling of love. Jason couldn’t quite tell. That’s when he noticed you begin to stand up. He felt panic. You weren’t allowed to leave! He missed you; he needed you.

You collected yourself after an hour of mourning the loss of your friend. You wiped away your tears, fixed your hair, and drank water. After you calmed yourself down, you began to walk away from the dock. It was time for you to go home. You had paid your respects.

Suddenly, a calloused hand slammed over your mouth and another grabbed you roughly by your torso, spinning you around. Your eyes widened as you faced the figure that was towering over you. He was wearing a hockey mask. You let out a worried whimper from behind the large palm that was keeping you silent. Surprisingly, the man sensed your discomfort and shook his head. He was trying to silently communicate with you, but you didn't know what he wanted.

The masked figure took his hand off of your mouth. He held his hand up to where his mouth would be and made a shushing motion. You did not want to anger the man, so you stayed quiet. He took a deep breath. He knew this would be the only way to calm you down. He let go of your torso before reaching up to grab onto his mask. He gripped the bottom of the mask and lifted it over his face. 

You let out a loud gasp of shock. “No, no, you're not him. You can’t be. This isn't funny, you know!” The man's face was deformed, just like Jason’s used to be. The same dents and lumps from his condition, hydrocephalus. “He drowned you, fucker! Jason Voorhees drowned! He was my best friend, and he drowned! If this is some kind of cruel joke, knock it off,” you yelled at the man in anger. He averted his eyes to look at the ground, feeling some type of shame. Perhaps it was because of the way you yelled at him, but you would never know. 

“Oh my God,” you said in a quiet voice. “Jason? Jason, is that you?” He nodded his head. You ran into his arms, holding him tightly. “Jason! Jason! I missed you so much! I’m sorry for everything! I tried to save you! One of the boys pushed me to the ground, and when I woke up, you were… I even can’t say it. I searched for you with your mother every night, and now you’re here! In front of me!” You hadn’t noticed it, but tears began to stream down your cheeks. 

Jason couldn’t stand to look at you in your depressed state any longer. He pulled you a hug. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t hugged someone since 1957. You were so warm, small, and fragile compared to him. His heart swelled when you nuzzled yourself into his shoulder. After awhile you tried to pull out of Jason’s tight hug. His grip tightened. That was when you realized, he was never going to let you go.

[eccentricallygothic]

my love language is asking him to wear a slasher mask and hunt me for sport

[slasherstories123]

Hello there! I have a request on how Jason would react to a gn!s/o who Can see ghosts! His s/o doesn’t tell him bc they are too scared his would be creeped out. But they finally tell him while watching a movie together and his s/o then tells him that a particular ghost keeps following him (his mother) (Also his s/o Can see them and communicate with them)Basically his reaction and just a very fluff request:)

I see her

paring: Jason Voorhees x reader

Word count: 790

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @mrs-heelshire @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @emychan @charliedawn @sleepypersonblog @slasherscrybaby @kawaistrawberry21 @bunnysenpai31 @nobody-and-i285

No one believed you when you said you could see ghosts. They’d look at you like you were crazy or smile and pretend to be interested in what you said. But you could see right through them. When you met Jason, you never told him about you being able to see ghosts thinking it’ll creep him out. Or maybe that he wouldn’t care. You kept it to yourself in hopes of not bothering him with something so stupid that could mean nothing to him.

The first time you saw a ghost in Camp Crystal Lake was when you first got there wanting to camp by yourself to get away from the outside world. You saw a woman in a light brown sweater with light blue jeans, and short blonde curly hair who would watch you from afar. You’d wave and try to communicate but she’d walk away or stare until you’d have to look away from her intense gaze. When you met Jason, she began to follow you and you’d try your best to not acknowledge her presence along with the other spirits you’d see along the cabins or by the lake.

Sometimes you couldn’t sleep without having a feeling that a spirit was watching you. Whenever you’re alone you’d try to communicate with the woman, but she never says anything. But she’d follow Jason a lot too. You know about Jason being a killer, but you’d never expect a victim to follow their killer everywhere. You and Jason decided to take a walk around the forest, walking hand in hand while looking at different plants and animals.

You felt at peace for once, until the woman came back. She was on the other side of Jason, she could see and feel ehr presence and it made you squeeze on Jason’s hand. It made Jason stop to look around since he saw your discomfort. “No Jace I’m fine,” You said while patting his arm to make him focus his attention on you. “No one’s here to hurt us. It’s okay.” You then squeezed his hand in reassurance.

You could tell he didn’t want to believe you but let it be when you squeezed his hand, continuing the walk down the forest. When you got back to your shared cabin a nervous pit rested in your stomach. Feeling the need to say something to him about the ghost that’s been following you. As you two were watching a movie you decided to speak up.

“Jason, there’s something I need to tell you.” You watched as his blue eyes stared down at you, wondering what you had to say. “There are two things. One, I can see spirits.. Or ghosts as people call it. I see them a lot in this forest. I can communicate with them too and some aren’t.. Necessarily happy with me here,” Jason’s eyes widened at your confession. Grabbing your hand as a way of comfort as you spoke which made you feel at ease. “Thank you, Jason, but the second thing is… I keep seeing a woman. She’ll follow me around but will tend to follow you the most.” The giant man tilted his head in confusion. You began to describe her features, and that’s when his eyes widened again. Pointing at himself. “She’s.. Related to you in a way?” He nodded.

You sat there, thinking how they could be related, it then hit you like a pile of bricks. The only way for Jason to all of a sudden become this sedimental is if it was his mother. “She’s..your mother?” He nodded.

It made sense given the backstory and urban legend of the Camp Crystal Lake killer. His mother was the first person to ever die, and he witnessed it. “Your mother watched us every time we were together Jason, and when you went on a hunt for victims I’d see her leave and follow you. She’s standing right by you.” Jason held your hand tighter with his head hung low. You placed your other hand on top of his at the sight of his mother standing by him. Hugging the big giant she called her son. Smiling at you for the first time since you’ve been there.

You gained his mothers trust. Since she’s not here. She counts on you to protect him, and to make him happy. She said a sentence that she wanted you to say to Jason.

“Jason, she says she loves you. She loves you so much and is glad to still see you alive. She’ll always watch over you too.” His masked forehead pressed against yours in a soft gesture that you couldn’t help but smile too. Holding one of his hands, movie being long forgotten.

[amomentsescape]

Hello I am craving angst. Hey can you do a headcanon for the slashers? [Maybe Slasher X reader] Like could you do headcanons. What if the Slashers found their SO has been killed? or Maybe headcanon for Slashers if they accidently killed their so?

Sorry if my grammar is bad.

Slashers Reacting to the Death of Reader

Slashers x Reader (Individual)

Warnings: Mentions of death & killing, some cuss words, ANGST

A/N: All aboard the angst train! I kind of combined your request so some of the Slashers are about Reader accidentally being killed by them and some are an "outside" murder.

Freddy Krueger

He specifically told you not to come into his Dream World tonight

It was too chaotic, too much going on

His victim was a lot faster than he had anticipated

So he did his best to catch up with them

But he just couldn't seem to get close enough

So finally, Freddy's anger took over and he caused the sky to rain knives onto the poor teen

Once things were silent, he walked over to his victim, only to see another body laying further back

Freddy's breath caught

He ran over and saw you

You weren't supposed to be here

He told you not to come

Your eyes were already glazed over when Freddy picked you up

His eyes were going hazy, and he was staggering to your shared bed

He laid you down, your blood immediately soaking through the sheets

And it was only then that Freddy screamed a terrible sound into the world

The whole town would soon be reduced to nothing

Michael Myers

God, he didn't mean to

He just couldn't stand it in that moment

You were upset with him, arguing about how he can't just disappear for days on end without so much as a word

But he was just pissed

None of his killings went as planned, he could barely feel a thing, and here you were yelling about him not being around

It was too much, and he just needed the sensory overload to stop

His mind went dark

It felt like just a moment until he gathered his senses

But when he was able to finally focus, your limp frame was in his arms

Your neck was severely bruised, and there were still fresh tears on your cheeks

He couldn't have done this... right?

He kneeled there with you in his arms

He didn't cry, didn't yell, didn't even move

He just stayed frozen in that position, feeling absolutely nothing

Whatever humanity he had left, it died with you

There was nothing holding him back now

Jason Voorhees

There had only been a couple circumstances when a victim escaped Jason

And even then, none dared to go anywhere near those woods again

Except for one

For some reason, the death of his friends was too much

He was seeking revenge

Jason was inside the cabin cleaning up his machete while you were out picking flowers

You were wanting to make him a flower crown

He immediately dropped everything when he heard a single gunshot ring out through the desolate area

He sprung up, walking out to find you

It didn't take long before he saw a man leaning over a body, apologizing profusely over and over again

When he realized who was lying on the ground, he immediately ripped the man's head off, not even wasting a second

He lifted you in his arms, frantic on what to do

With your last moments, you struggled to smile and grip onto his hand, giving him a silent reassurance

He watched you go limp in his arms

He laid there with you for an eternity, feeling utterly lost

By the evening, he had a gravesite set up for you, and he was already packed

He was going to head into town this time

He would make sure there would be no survivors

Thomas Hewitt

It was just a freak accident

Thomas had gotten in up in the middle of the night while you were sleeping, slipping away to the shed

However, you had no idea where he had went

Fearing the worst, you walked out into the night, looking around for him

But in your worried state, you forgot about one of the traps set up outside

You accidentally triggered it and was immediately impaled

Thomas heard the trap go off and quickly rushed over to it

The moment he saw you, his heart dropped

He ran over and held you, trying to get the trap off of you

But you pleaded with him to leave you be, knowing your fate already

He was frantic, begging and crying with you to let him help

But you knew it was too late

You reached out and touched his masked face, offering a warm smile before your head dropped

Thomas took care of your body, having his family help make a gravesite for you

He was never the same after your death, and he became the most brutal killer out of everyone

Bubba Sawyer

The newest victim was willing to do whatever it took to survive

In a frenzy, they didn't even register what was happening

They saw you and immediately stabbed you in the stomach, quickly sprinting away thereafter

You screamed for Bubba, your body unable to move from the pain

It didn't take long for him to come to you, the area being filled with his whimpers and gasps of fear

He tried to turn you over, but it only caused you to let out cries

He was looking around frantically, trying to figure out what to do

But you just asked him to lay with you, knowing that help would never make it in time

He did as you asked, you both crying together

The moment you went silent, the air was filled with his screams

He was inconsolable

The moment he found the victim hiding away, he did his absolute worst to them

He didn't care about food in that moment

He wanted to invoke as much pain as possible

Your body was carefully tucked away in bed, Bubba refusing to leave your side for days

Brahms Heelshire

You were hoping to surprise Brahms, sneaking out in the night to pick some berries for tomorrow's breakfast

He normally slept like a rock, giving you ample time to complete the task

However, this night, he found himself awake to an empty bed

When he discovered you about to walk out the door, he went into a rage

How could you abandon him like this? Didn't you love him anymore?

He grabbed at you viciously, not seeing anything else but red

You tried to plead with him, telling him that you weren't going to leave

But this all fell on deaf ears

He wasn't thinking, he just grabbed at you and slammed you into the ground, your head bouncing from the force

He only stopped his attack when he saw the empty look on your face, and suddenly everything began to sink in

He froze up and began to cry, collapsing on top of your body

He didn't mean to

He pleaded to you that he didn't want to hurt you

He ended up placing your body on the couch, tucking the doll into your arms

At least this way, there was no possible chance that you could try to leave him again

Norman Bates

He blacked out

He didn't mean to, but something inside of him snapped when he noticed Mother's things had been misplaced

When he finally came to, you were lying in your shared bed, a knife sticking straight up from your chest

Norman became hysterical, not understanding what had happened

"N-no, no, no...."

He cried into your shoulder, holding your body close to his

It didn't take long for his mind to become numb, his teary eyes staring dazedly off into space

He ended up pulling another chair next to Mother, sitting your body beside hers

Mother always loved you, and Norman was sure she'd appreciate the company

It's okay, he reassured himself

You're home with him and Mother

He has his family still

Nothing is wrong

How could it be? You're still here with him...

Billy Loomis

You didn't tell him where you'd be tonight

It was just supposed to be a small get together, nothing important

So why did it matter?

But little did you know, Ghostface would be making an appearance

Billy was quick to get through the small group, eventually making his way around the corner to the next room

However, as you turned to figure out what was going on, your body ran straight into him

Not wanting to have a victim slip from his grip, he stabbed the knife into them quickly, not wasting any time

However, the moment his gaze tilted up, he saw those familiar eyes

As your body dropped, he caught you, ripping off his mask

"(Y/N)?! What the hell are you doing here?! You're supposed to be at home-"

"Billy?" you croaked out

"It's me, baby. Oh my god..."

His voice broke and the tears began to slip down his face unwillingly

Your eyes began to flutter, and he started to shake you in his arms

"Don't you dare fucking do that. You stay with me, alright?"

But your eyes soon glazed over, and Billy found himself yelling at your lifeless body

"DON'T DO THIS TO ME! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME!"

Without you, there would no longer be mercy

Stu Macher

It was supposed to be a fun night together

It wasn't unusual for you to join Stu on his sprees

He loved having you by his side, being there to help him do something he enjoys

But this group was different than the others

They fought back

And when there was only one person left, they somehow managed to grab a nearby kitchen knife and slam it straight into your chest

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Stu screamed

He took his own knife and slashed a gaping wound into they're neck, killing them quickly

He kneeled down beside you, taking your face in his hands

"Hey, hey! You're gonna be okay, alright?"

But you just shook your head

"Look at me. Look at me!"

You did your best to meet his eyes, trying to stay conscious

"I'm gonna get you out of here, and then we'll- (Y/N)?!"

Your eyes had closed, and your head drooped in his hands

Stu began to scream, begging and cursing for you to come back

Eric Draven

One of the first rules Eric gave to you was to never go looking for him at night

It didn't matter how late it was or how long it had been

You stayed home where it was safe, no matter what

But on this night, you broke his rule

Eric was supposed to be back hours ago, and yet you were alone in your bed, worried sick

You eventually gave in and went out into the night, searching for him

But unfortunately, someone else was watching you, quickly jumping out and stabbing you in the neck

They took your wallet and ran, leaving you to bleed out on the sidewalk

But it was only a matter of seconds before a familiar figure ran up to you, placing his cold hands against the wound in your neck

"Goddammit! What did I tell you?!" Eric cried

You tried to speak, but nothing came out but warm blood

"(Y/N), please don't go. Come on, you're strong. Stay with me"

You reached your bloody hand out, caressing Eric's cheek softly before your whole body went limp in his arms

His cries could be heard echoing throughout the night

Without you, he has nothing

[smilessssss]

Yandere Jason Voorhees H/Cs

At the camp you weren’t as terrible as all your friends. You still party with them and got up to shenanigans there. But you were too scared to drink, smoke, and you didn’t have a partner there.

You always felt someone watching you, in your cabin, when you swam, and when y’all were around the campfire.

Jason found you adorable the “innocent” person in the group. He would stalk you constantly carefully taking stuff from you. Soon he would kill all your friends leaving you alone.

He trapped you in one of the cabins, locking you in there. He would move to his little underground cave. But for now you’re stuck in the little cabin.

He would give you back the stuff he stole, everyday he’d come in and check on you. He’d wouldn’t see you as someone who could take care of themself, but a little baby who needed to be protected and cared for.

He’d feed you like a baby, would creep you out by staring at you since he doesn’t know a good way to get you to sleep.

If any teenagers came along, he would keep the away from the cabin you were staying in. If anyone even got close to it or tried to see what was inside they would get decapitated,

When it rains he stays with you in the cabin. Cuddling you, even if you don’t want to.

His love for you is strong and he would do anything for you. Honestly you both could have a good relationship if he wasn’t a killer, and kidnapped you.

Usually would go to his mother for evidence about what a girl would want or dating advice in general.

Hates it when your scared of him. He just wants to be loved by you.

He cares for you a lot, and if anyone got into the cabin and tried to take you away him. They better wish they never came.

Would freak out if people tried to help you escape. He doesn’t take it out on you but them.

He would rather die then let you leave him. Very obsessive and possessive. But he loves you. And you do to? Right?

[joelswritingmistress]

Camp Crystal Lake: Chapter 3

Requested by @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz

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.

“So, do we get a merit badge or something if we survive?” I joked, walking side-by-side with Joel.

“If we survive?” He smirked as he spoke the words and then added, “Oh, you mean Jason and Camp Blood and all that.”

“Camp Blood?” I laughed.

“You haven’t heard that one before?”

I shook my head as we kept walking.

“Maybe you’re too young for that one,” Joel went on, “After the first incidents back in the eighties they started referring to anywhere on the lake as Camp Blood. I was just a little kid then. I think the nickname has died down a bit.”

“How old are you?” When I realized immediately that I’d blurted the question out, I was going to redact my words but Joel answered.

“Forty-two.” He nodded in my direction, “You?”

“Twenty-two.” I shrugged as I stated my age and then eyed the pile of firewood that Joel had chopped when we rounded the cabin.

“At forty-two, my back’s gonna be sore tomorrow from chopping all this wood.” Joel gave a light laugh, “Not when I was twenty-two though.”

I smiled at him. “Well, the least I can do with my youthful muscles is carry a bunch over.”

Joel chuckled again and held my stare for just a second. I was already on cloud-nine around him. I felt like he had a more serious side, though the bit of playfulness he’d shown so far made me feel instantly comfortable around him.

That’s just the infatuation talking, I warned myself.

I tried to max out what I could carry in some feeble attempt to impress him. The two of us wandered back to where everyone was gathered near the dormant fire pit and set the logs down. Joel threw a few into the center and within a few minutes the fire was blazing as we all sat down.

Across the lake I could see the dark silhouettes of the treetops in the distance. There was a stillness to the water that finally allowed me to relax as I reached for a marshmallow and Sandra passed me a can of beer.

“I don’t want to scare anybody,” Joel began, “But I want to give it to you all straight about Jason.”

My eyes snapped up now. The relaxation I had been feeling a second before was splintered by a small hit of adrenaline.

“If you listen to the old timer’s in town, they’ll tell you he’s still out here somewhere, like some sort of demented creature. Feral, living off of wild animals. Some folks claim they’ve even seen him.” Joel’s eyes met mine across the way and he gave a half-smirk that made me smile wide.

“Right in this area,” he went on, not breaking eye contact, “The girl that survived that night at Camp Blood, that Friday the 13th.. she saw him.. and then she disappeared a few months later. No one knows what happened to her. And then there was the massacre not long afterwards on the lake. One survivor. And then another.. and another. The original Camp Blood is just a short walk from here, where it all started.”

“Give me a break,” Vicky said with a half-hearted laugh.

“It’s true,” I intervened with a nod. “I grew up here. My parents showed me an old clipping one time. People still talk about it.”

“You’re from around here?” Teri asked.

I nodded. “The kids I grew up with all talked about Jason. We weren’t allowed near these woods back then.”

The girls’ expressions changed and they both straightened up a bit as they focused back on Joel.

“Legend has it that Jason saw his mother beheaded that night, and then he took his revenge. A revenge he’ll continue to seek if anyone ever enters his wilderness again.”

I felt myself leaning just a bit toward the fire, leaning toward Joel. The others’ postures mirrored mine as they were now engaged in the story he was telling. Scott looked over his shoulder toward the bushes behind where he sat, and I saw his Adam’s apple rise and fall in his throat.

“By now, I guess you all should know, we’re the first to return here since the Jarvis family was attacked across the lake all those years ago.” Joel’s eyes scanned the crowd, “Twenty something years,” his eyes met mine again and he winked subtly, “Twenty-something years he’s been dormant. And he’s stir-crazy.” He lowered his voice just a bit and the flames from the fire casted shadows perfectly over his face, “Jason’s out there.”

I glanced to the side when Sandra cuddled up closer to Jeff and he slung an arm around her.

“He’s out there,” Joel repeated quietly, “Ready to devour. Ready to kill. Thirsty for young blood.”

A shrieking sound from the woods behind everybody sent a chorus of screams into the air as a figure leapt out with a disfigured face and a long spear in one hand.

I jumped from where I was seated and ran around the opposite side of the fire, prepared to sprint in the opposite direction; though then I heard laughter and I realized quickly that the person who’d jumped out of the bushes was sporting a mask. They lowered the spear.

“Hey, guys come back.” Joel waved a hand at the now-scattered group of us and chuckled. He patted the person on the back who wore the mask. 

There were laughs and groans all around.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack,” Ted complained, holding his chest with a smile.

A woman revealed herself to be beneath the mask and gave a wave as she shook her hair out. “I’m sorry to meet all of you like this,” she said, “I’m Annie, I’m Joel’s assistant.” Annie laughed sheepishly, but still appeared amused. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other over the next few weeks.”

Everyone took their turn saying, “Hi,” or waving, before Joel took back over.

“Okay, now that that’s out of our system,” he concluded, “Jason was killed and Camp Blood is off-limits.” Joel raised his hand and high-fived Annie.

“You all have a good time,” she said, “I’m turning in early, but I couldn’t resist.” Annie put her hand inside the mask and toyed with the fake spear, “If anyone needs me for anything, I have one of the rooms downstairs off the living room.”

“Yeah, I’ll come see you for my second heart attack,” Jeff said, smirking to himself as he pulled Sandra back against him.

“I have baby aspirin for that,” Annie teased and then gave a wave. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Joel made his way in my direction and reached into the bag of marshmallows nearby. “You know, you might’ve been the fastest counselor here. You got all the way out by that tree over there.”

I looked down and laughed, biting my bottom lip as he handed me a marshmallow. “You definitely got me.” I placed the marshmallow on the tip of a stick. “You don’t think Jason’s really alive, do you?”

Joel’s face grew serious as he stared at me and I felt that familiar sensation of the hairs rising on the back of my neck. “Well..” he held my stare and then a slow smile spread across his face. “No.”

I let out the deep breath I didn’t realize I had been holding and chuckled, shaking my head.

“I shouldn’t have scared you guys,” Joel said.

“No, it was good,” I told him, “I think we needed to address the elephant in the room.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

I nodded and placed the marshmallow over the fire. A few seconds later, it was flaming and I pulled it out, blowing the fire out that clung to the brown and white blob on the end of the stick.

“Here.” Joel reached down and retrieved two graham crackers and then reached behind us into a package of chocolate bars.

I set the marshmallow down on one of the crackers in his hand, watching carefully as he placed the chocolate on top of it and then topped the snack sandwich with the other end. I then removed the stick and lifted my eyes to meet his as Joel handed the ‘smore over to me in its entirety.

“Thank you.” I nodded.

“My pleasure.” Joel kept his eyes on me as I took a bite and then asked, “You’re sure the Jason stunt wasn’t too much?”

I licked some drippy chocolate off my finger and shook my head. “Just right.”

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 4

@gissellec1 @cattt777 @mellymbee @armybts20137@bbiophiliaa @littleblackcatinwonderland @mermaidgirl30 @milaspascal

[archiveofvirtue]

CRYSTAL LAKE ⸻ clay miller

content / clay miller x fem!reader, reader replaces the character “Jenna”, stangers to lovers trope, love at first sight (kinda?), mentions of death, blood, kissing, slight gore??, heavily inspired by the original storyline of the movie, 5.4k words

notes / since I’ve rewatched I couldn’t stop thinking about him so I had to write this ! God, pls gimme a big boy like clay.. excuse the length, i literally did the whole plot of the movie lmao 😭

It was late afternoon as you and your friends pulled into a gas station on the edge of Crystal Lake, the excitement for the weekend buzzing in the car. You were heading to Trent’s family lake house, a place he always bragged about for its secluded beauty, though you were really only going along because of your friend, Bree.

As Trent’s constant flirty remarks were more irritating than flattering, mostly it was you brushing them off and rolling your eyes whenever he tried to catch your attention.

While Bree and Trent went into the gas station to grab some snacks, you stretched your legs and wandered over to a nearby notice board filled with missing persons’ flyers. One in particular caught your eye—“Whitney Miller, Missing” was plastered in bold letters over a picture of a woman. Your gaze lingered on it, a strange feeling settling in your chest, she was so young.

As you turned away, you nearly bumped into a guy who looked around your age, wearing a worn leather jacket and carrying a stack of similar missing person flyers. He had the same warm energy radiating off him as the girl in the photo.

“Oh, sorry!” You stammered, stepping back.

“No worries,” he replied, his voice calm but tired, glancing at the poster you’d been looking at. “That’s my sister. Whitney.”

The heaviness in his voice made you pause. “I’m really sorry. How long has she been missing?”

“Six weeks,” Clay replied, trying not to let the emotion crack his voice. “The cops stopped looking. Said she probably just ran off. But I know her. She wouldn’t just leave like that.”

There was a spark of determination in his eyes that struck you. “If you think there’s something more to it, you’re probably right.”

He nodded gratefully. “I’m Clay, by the way.”

“Y/N.” You smiled softly. “I hope you find her.”

Just then, Trent and Bree emerged from the gas station. Trent noticed you talking to Clay and immediately shot him a distrustful look, stepping between you.

“Y/n, come on, we gotta go,” Trent said, casting Clay a dismissive glance.

He didn’t seem phased though, only offering you a polite nod before heading into the gas station himself.

You all loaded back into Trent’s SUV and made your way to the lake house, the mood in the car lighthearted. But you couldn’t shake the thought of Clay and his missing sister, something about his story sticking with you.

The lake house was a massive cabin nestled among towering trees, with the lake just visible beyond the dense brush. The rest of the group settled in quickly, and Trent started showing off the place, clearly trying to impress you, though you were hardly listening. Bree caught your eye and smirked, mouthing, “He’s so into you.” But you just rolled your eyes in response.

The afternoon melted into evening, with the group grilling food and hanging out by the lake. But while everyone else was laughing and relaxing, you found your thoughts drifting to the strange guy you’d met at the gas station.

Just then a knock startled you out of your thoughts, opening the door just to find Clay standing there, holding a stack of missing-person flyers. The look of surprise on his face mirrored yours, though his was tinged with relief. You glanced back over your shoulder and quickly stepped out, letting the door close behind you to shield him from the others.

“Hey, uh, Clay,” you said, still a little taken aback. “You… you made it out here.”

“Yeah, I figured I’d try one more time,” he replied, offering a tentative smile. He held up the flyers. “I’m still looking for my sister.”

Your expression softened as you glanced at the paper in his hand, Whitney’s face staring back at you.

“You two have the same eyes.” You smiled softly, trying to comfort him as much as you could, knowing how exhausting it must be for him to still be searching, still not giving up hope.

“Thanks.” he muttered, feeling the ache in his chest deepen. You were trying to comfort him, and it wasn't much, but it was enough to make him feel a little less alone.

“You should come in,” you said. “At least warm up and grab a drink.”

Clay hesitated, but the invitation was genuine, so he nodded. As you led him inside, Trent looked up from the kitchen, his smile dropping the second he saw who it was.

“What’s he doing here?” Trent asked, folding his arms and eyeing Clay suspiciously.

“Trent, chill,” you said, rolling your eyes. “He’s just handing out flyers for his missing sister.”

“Yeah, and he’s been here all week. Just give it a rest already, man.” Trent’s eyes narrowed, his annoyance almost palpable.

Clay clenched his jaw but kept his voice steady. “I’m just trying to find my sister. And I don’t need some big town jerk telling me what to do.”

You could sense the tension building between them, and before it could escalate further, you stepped in. “Alright, enough. Trent, could you just give us a second?” You took Clay’s arm, gently steering him toward the door.

Trent huffed and threw his hands up, muttering something under his breath. Ignoring him, you led Clay outside, feeling the tension dissipate as soon as you stepped away from the house.

“Sorry about that,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Trent’s… well, a little possessive.”

Clay chuckled, though it was laced with frustration. “I get it. He’s not exactly subtle.”

You shared a small, knowing smile, both of you a little thrown by the strangeness of it all, yet there was something about Clay that put you at ease. And after the way Trent had acted, you felt more determined than ever to help him, if only to spite your obnoxious “friend”.

“Listen,” you said, turning to him, your expression softening. “I’ll help you look for her. I could use a break from Trent anyway.”

Clay blinked, a little taken aback by your offer, his face lighting up with gratitude. “You… you don’t have to do that.”

“No, I want to,” you replied, voice firm. “I could use some air, and it’s the least I can do after the way he acted.“

Clay nodded, clearly thankful for the company, and together you two headed into the woods, following the worn paths and looking for any sign of Whitney.

You dared to ask some questions as you walked, finding out more about the kind of person Whitney was—her interests, her plans for the future, her stubbornness that matched Clay’s in many ways. Clay found himself talking more freely than he had in days, feeling the weight of the world lift just a little.

“She sounds like an incredible person,” you said with a smile. “And you’re an incredible brother for going through all this just to find her.”

Clay shrugged, but you could see a hint of pride in his eyes. “She’s all I have. My mom isn’t around anymore, and I don’t really have anyone else. I can’t just… stop.”

The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows that made the woods feel both beautiful and haunting. You found yourself sneaking glances at Clay, noticing his quiet strength and determination, admiring how he didn’t seem fazed by Trent’s earlier hostility or the weight of his own desperation.

“So… you’re not really into Trent, huh?” Clay asked, a hint of teasing in his tone as he looked over at you, his gaze steady.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Not even close. I mean, he’s… okay, I guess. But he can also be a huge dick.”

“I can see that,” Clay said, grinning as he relaxed a little, clearly happy that you didn’t buy into Trent’s charm.

Clay was guarded, you could tell, but there was a spark in his eyes whenever you exchanged those small, quiet smiles.

After an hour or so of walking, you came across an abandoned campsite littered with empty beer cans and shredded tents. You wrinkled your nose at the sight, feeling a chill creep up your spine.

“This… this place gives me the creeps,” you murmured.

Clay’s expression grew serious, his eyes scanning the area. “This is around where the last person claimed to see her. The police looked here, but they didn’t find anything.”

“Well,” you said, breaking the tension with a small laugh, “if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all the horror movies I’ve watched, it’s that creepy campsites are never a good sign.”

Clay chuckled, though he kept his eyes on the surrounding woods, his laughter fading into a quiet alertness. “Good thing I’ve got someone with horror movie knowledge by my side.”

You quickly moved on, picking your way through the dense trees, occasionally stopping to examine broken branches or overturned rocks. It felt strangely comforting to you, being out there with him, feeling like you had a common goal and something real connecting you, even if it was born out of tragedy.

But as the evening shadows deepened, a sense of unease grew between you. Yoy glanced up, realizing you’d wandered far from the main path.

“Let’s just check out the last cabin and then we’re out of here.” Clay said, voice low.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, good idea.“

You and Clay pushed open the creaky door of the last cabin, your flashlights illuminating the dilapidated interior. The place was more unsettling than any of the others you’d checked. Everything looked like it had been frozen in time decades ago, only to rot and gather dust. Old toys littered the floor, porcelain dolls with cracked faces staring at you from dusty shelves, the air thick and suffocating.

“Who would even stay here?” You whispered, feeling a shiver crawl up your spine.

As you stepped further inside, you felt the wooden floor creak ominously under your weight. You barely had time to gasp before the rotted wood gave way beneath you, and you started to fall, your flashlight slipping from your grasp as you felt yourself plunging into the darkness.

“Y/N!” Clay’s voice was panicked but steady. In an instant, his arms were around you, his grip tight on your waist as he hauled you back up, his strength catching you just before you could hit the ground.

For a moment, everything was still as you clung to him, heart pounding. Your faces were only inches apart, your hands gripping his muscular shoulders as he held you close. You felt the warmth of his breath, saw the tension in his eyes softening into something like longing. His gaze flicked to your lips, and you felt yourself drawn in, the fear and unease momentarily giving way to a connection you didn’t expect.

But just as your lips were about to meet, a strange, metallic scraping noise echoed from outside the cabin. The tension snapped, replaced by a sudden and intense need to get out.

You two shared a look of alarm, all thoughts of your moment forgotten as you turned toward the door, Clay taking your hand and leading you quietly but quickly outside.

That’s when Clay’s flashlight began to flicker, making him curse underneath his breath.

“Let me change the battery real quick.” Clay whispered urgently, tugging you toward the edge of the camp, before kneeling down.

Clay fumbled with his flashlight, frustrated as he tried to swap out the dead batteries. You kept glancing nervously over your shoulder, your nerves on edge after everything you’d seen at the cabin. Just as Clay finally clicked the batteries into place, a rustling sound echoed through the trees, followed by the slow, heavy crunch of footsteps.

Your breath caught, and without thinking, you grabbed Clay’s arm, pulling him behind a massive tree. You pressed yourself close to him, barely daring to breathe as you peeked around the rough bark.

Your heart raced, pounding hard against your ribs as yoy felt the warmth of Clay’s solid frame behind you, his arm protectively wrapped around your fragile body, trying to offer what little comfort he could in the middle of nowhere.

The footsteps grew louder, closer. In the shadows, a hulking figure loomed—a massive man with a blank white mask obscuring his face. He was dragging something behind him, a limp, unmoving shape that glinted in the faint moonlight.

You two watched, frozen, as the figure approached the cabin you’d just left, his slow, deliberate footsteps making the ground seem to tremble. He stopped, his attention shifting as he spotted something lying just outside the cabin door—Clay’s backpack, lying just outside the door.

The manly figure dropped the body he was carrying, and you had to stifle a gasp, clapping your hands over your mouth as you realized it was a corpse, the lifeless face staring blankly toward you. You couldn’t look away, horror and shock pinning you to the spot.

You exhaled shakily, heart pounding as you turned to Clay, your voice barely a whisper. “What do we do?”

Quickly Clay’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, grounding you in the chaos. He glanced around, his face pale but determined, “Run.”

As the stranger bent down to pick up the backpack, you moved, slipping silently through the trees, keeping low to the ground as you put as much distance as you could between yourselves and the terrifying figure.

The moment you were far enough away, Clay didn't hesitate. He pulled you closer and you broke into a full sprint, running through the dark forest, hearts pounding, breaths coming fast and panicked. Branches whipped against your arms, roots threatened to trip you, but you kept going, the sheer adrenaline of survival driving you two forward.

Finally, the lake house loomed ahead. You and Clay bursted through the door, slamming it shut, your breaths coming fast and panicked. Everyone inside looked up, startled by your sudden entrance. Trent’s face twisted with annoyance and confusion as he watched you rush to lock the doors.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded, standing up, his hands on his hips.

“We have to lock everything,” You panted, eyes wide with fear. “There’s someone out there, Trent. He’s… he’s killing people!”

“Wait, what?” Bree’s voice was a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Clay nodded, his jaw set, his expression deadly serious. “We saw him. He’s real, and he’s dangerous. You have to believe us.”

But Trent’s face contorted with anger as he looked from Clay to you, suspicion and jealousy flaring in his eyes. “You two were out there for hours, some ‘Dora The Explorer’ shit, or what?” He laughed bitterly, crossing his arms. “Did you get what you wanted, Clay? Sure looks like you did.”

Clay's jaw clenched. He didn't want to argue now. He just needed everyone to listen.

“Trent, stop it,” you snapped, glaring at him. But Trent’s anger only grew, and he stepped toward Clay, his fists clenched.

“What were you two doing out there?” he demanded. “Is that why you ran off with him? So that he could fuck—“

Before he could finish, you slapped him hard across the face, eyes blazing with fury. “Are you serious, Trent? Do you even hear yourself right now? People are dying out there, and you’re worried about… this?”

Trent’s face reddened with embarrassment and anger, but he backed off, muttering under his breath. Clay took a step closer to you, relieved that you were standing firm, before you turned to the others.

“Look, you guys, this isn’t some prank. We saw him. We saw him carrying a body,” you said, voice wavering with the horror of it. “He’s got a mask, he’s huge, and he’s not going to stop. We need to stay together and keep the doors locked.”

Bree and Trent exchanged a worried look, their faces pale, while Lawrence shook his head, clearly still processing what you were saying.

“Wait, wait,” Lawrence said, holding up his hands. “Where’s Chewie? He went outside a while ago.”

The realization hit all of you at once. Your heart sank as you all glanced toward the dark windows, the unease settling even deeper.

“We can’t just leave him out there,” Lawrence said, grabbing a makeshift weapon from the fireplace. “I’m gonna go look for him.“

“Lawrence, wait!” Clay tried to stop him, his voice desperate. “You can’t go out there alone. He’s… that guy, he’s still out there.”

But Lawrence shook his head, determined. “I can’t just leave him. I’ll be right back.”

With one last determined look, Lawrence stepped out the door, disappearing into the darkness. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence fell over the house.

You all sat in silence, waiting, every second stretching into an eternity. You clenched your hands, barely breathing, mind racing with everything you’d seen. Clay was next to you, feeling the tension radiating off you, so he reached over and took your hand, pulling you into his embrace. You clung to him, grateful for his presence in the midst of the horror.

Minutes ticked by, and then—suddenly—a blood-curdling scream pierced the night, echoing from outside. Everyone shot to their feet, eyes wide with horror.

“Lawrence!” Bree gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

You rushed to the window just as Lawrence came into view, sprinting toward the house, his face a mask of terror. “Open the door!” he screamed. “Help!”

But before he could reach the veranda, an axe flew through the air, embedding itself in his back with a sickening thud. Lawrence staggered, his scream cut short as he crumpled to the ground, just feet from the door.

“No!” You shrieked, hands flying to your mouth as you backed away from the window, your heart pounding. Clay wrapped his arms around you, your body shaking uncontrollably in his grasp, trying to shield you from the horror outside.

“Oh my god,” Bree whispered, her voice barely audible. “He’s right there. He’s… he’s right outside. Where’s the fucking police?”

You all backed away from the window, breaths shallow, fear hanging thick in the air. No one dared move as you heard heavy footsteps approach the house, the sound slow and deliberate, each step like a death knell.

Trent, his face drained of all color, looked around wildly. “We have to do something! We can’t just sit here.”

But Clay held up a hand, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay calm. Everyone shut up.”

As the killer's footsteps circled the house, Clay could feel the dread creeping up on you all. He wasn't sure how much longer you could stay hidden, but for now, he needed to keep you safe.

You could feel yourself trembling as you leaned into Clay’s embrace, his arms wrapped tightly around you. The sense of safety you felt with him was barely enough to keep your fear at bay, but it was something, and right now, that was all you had.

After what felt like hours, the footsteps faded into silence, leaving only the distant, eerie sounds of the forest. The room was quiet, each of you knowing that the danger hadn’t passed—not really.

Without warning, the window shattered, and the killers massive figure loomed in the broken frame. Bree screamed, stumbling backward, her face pale as the masked man climbed inside, his machete gleaming in the dim light.

Bree was frozen, too terrified to move as the figure advanced on her. Your heart sank as you watched your friend, knowing what was coming but powerless to stop it. With a swift, brutal motion, he brought down his machete, and Bree’s scream was cut short.

You choked back your own scream, feeling Clay’s hand grip yours even tighter as you two stumbled back, desperate to escape. He felt his stomach drop, but he couldn't let that fear consume him. Not now. Not when your life was at stake.

Before any of you could move, Trent lunged at the killer, yelling in a mix of fury and terror, swinging a lamp in a desperate attempt to defend himself. The killer, unaffected, grabbed Trent by the collar, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. With horrifying ease, he drove his machete through Trent, pinning him against the wall as the light in Trent’s eyes faded.

“Run, y/n!” Clay shouted, his voice hoarse with urgency. Without another second to think, he pulled your hand, and you dashed toward the back door, your bodies propelled by sheer survival instinct.

The night air hit you like a slap as you sprinted into the darkness of the forest, not daring to look back. Trees blurred past them as you ran, each step fueled by pure adrenaline and the knowledge that the killer was somewhere close behind.

Just as you thought you’d run far enough, an old white house emerged through the dense trees, its silhouette ghostly in the moonlight. Clay pulled you toward it, both of you hoping that it might be a place to hide, to catch your breath.

The interior was dark and filled with dust, every shadow seeming to hide another threat. As you pressed further in, a muffled scream reached your ears, coming from beneath the floor.

“Did you hear that?” You whispered, voice trembling.

Clay’s eyes narrowed, determination replacing some of his fear. “Sounds like it’s coming from down there.”

Both of you moved quietly, scanning the ground until Clay spotted a hatch concealed under an old, moth-eaten rug. With a quick glance in your direction, he pulled it open, revealing a dark, narrow stairway that led into a tunnel system below. Clay went in first, helping you down after him as you ventured into the underground maze.

The tunnels were damp and cold, the flashlights casting shaky beams across the stone walls. You held onto Clay’s hand tightly, the comfort of his touch a lifeline in the claustrophobic darkness. You walked slowly, every creak and drip echoing ominously, heightening your anxiety with each step.

And then, at the end of a narrow passage, you saw her—a frail, neglected figure huddled against the wall, her eyes wide and haunted.

It was Whitney, chained and broken, but alive.

Clay’s breath caught in his throat, his face softening with relief as he ran to her, pulling her into his arms. Tears streamed down his face, and Whitney’s voice was a mixture of shock and joy as she clung to her brother, while he tried undoing the chains around her wrists.

You couldn’t believe it—after all the horror you’d endured, you’d found Whitney. For a brief, fleeting moment, hope filled your heart, a glimmer of something beyond survival. But just as quickly as it came, the hope was shattered by a loud, bone-chilling thud echoing from above.

He had found you.

“We need to go,” you whispered urgently, glancing at Clay, who nodded, his face pale but resolved as he helped up his sister.

With Whitney leaning on him, the three of you moved quickly, retracing your steps through the tunnels as quietly as possible. Every sound felt amplified, every footstep a potential signal to the killer who lurked somewhere nearby.

As you neared the hatch where you had entered, a shadow passed overhead, blocking out the light. Your blood ran cold as you realized the killer was directly above you, his heavy footsteps thudding against the wooden floor. The floorboards creaked ominously, as if he knew exactly where you were.

Clay motioned for you to stay quiet, his finger pressed to his lips as you huddled in the darkness, barely daring to breathe. The tension was suffocating, the air thick with terror as you waited, hoping he would move away.

But instead, the footsteps grew louder.

The floorboards above you suddenly splintered, and with a deafening crash, he broke through the ground, his massive form landing in the tunnel only feet away. His mask was eerily expressionless, but the menace in his stance was unmistakable.

You, Clay and Whitney didn't hesitate—you turned and ran, your footsteps echoing wildly through the narrow stone passage as the killers heavy tread followed close behind.

Panic threatened to overtake you as you turned corner after corner, every step feeling slower than the last, knowing the killer was gaining on you.

Suddenly, Whitney stumbled, her ankle catching on an uneven patch of ground. She fell forward with a cry of pain, her body slamming against the muddy floor. You came to a halt, immediately kneeling beside her. "Come on, Whitney!" You whispered frantically, grabbing her arm and trying to help her up.

But before you could get Whitney back to her feet, a terrifying blur of movement appeared in the dim tunnel just ahead. The killer lunged at you all, his enormous hand reaching out and grabbing Whitney by the leg, yanking her back with terrifying strength.

Your eyes widened, horror freezing your in place as Whitney's terrified face met yours.

"Run, Y/N! Go!" Whitney screamed, her voice raw with fear and desperation. Before you could react, the killers hand shot forward, gripping his machete with brutal intent. With a sickening thrust, he drove the blade through Whitney's chest, silencing her screams in an instant.

"WHITNEY!" Clay's voice shattered with anguish as he watched his sister fall limp in the killers grip, her eyes glazed, her life extinguished. He staggered forward, reaching out instinctively, but you grabbed his arm, pulling him back as he screamed for his sister, devastation in every note of his voice.

"Clay, we have to go!" You shouted, voice shaking but determined. You knew the heartbreak he was feeling, but there was no time to mourn. You had to survive.

Ignoring the horror behind you, you pushed Clay forward, forcing him to leave Whitney behind as you scrambled through the narrow passage, your hearts pounding with fear and grief. You rounded another corner, seeing the faint glow of moonlight from an exit just ahead. You burst out of the tunnels, gasping for breath as you emerged into the cool night air.

Without a word, you sprinted across the open ground, the silhouette of an old barn looming in the distance. It was dark and decrepit, but it was your only hope for shelter. You and Clay ducked inside, slamming the heavy doors shut and barricading them with whatever you could find—rusty tools, loose boards, anything that would hold.

You backed away, breaths coming fast as you listened to the silence outside, hoping desperately that the barn doors would hold. But the peace was short-lived. A loud thud echoed through the barn as the killers brutal strength tested the doors, each blow rattling the walls and shaking the barricade.

As the relentless pounding against the barn doors grew louder, Clay turned to you, his face set with fierce determination. “Y/n,” he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and emotion. He gently cupped your face, his eyes scanning yours as if he were memorizing every detail. “I need you to hide. I need to know you’re safe.”

Your eyes filled with tears, a mixture of fear and sorrow tearing at your heart. You didn’t want to leave him; the thought of Clay facing Jason alone filled you with dread. But before you could protest, he leaned in, pressing a desperate, tender kiss to your lips. You clung to him, your hands on his shoulders, pouring all your unspoken fears into that kiss, a silent promise that this wouldn’t be the end.

“Please, Clay,” you whispered. “Don’t let him take you too.”

Clay’s hand lingered on your cheek as he nodded, his own gaze wavering, he needed to come back to you, whatever it took. “I won’t. I promise.”

Reluctantly, you slipped behind an old row of machines, crouching low as you struggled to keep your sobs silent. You watched through the rusted metal as Clay grabbed an axe, his frame tense and ready to face the monster that had brought so much horror into your lives.

A moment later, the doors burst open with an explosive crash, and the killer stormed inside. His dark figure loomed large in the dusty moonlight filtering through the barn, his machete gleaming in one hand. Clay didn’t hesitate; he charged forward, swinging the axe with fierce determination.

The clash was brutal, each blow echoing through the barn as Clay and the killer fought with raw strength and desperation. He was a towering force, but Clay was quick and strong, his tall frame unyielding as he met his attacks head-on.

The fight felt nearly balanced, each of them refusing to give an inch. But as Clay swung the axe once more, it lodged into the wall, stuck fast. He tried to pull it free, but the killer seized the moment, his powerful arms wrapping around Clay in a crushing headlock.

Clay's heart raced, terror and desperation clawing at him. He couldn't let the killer win—not this way.

He forced Clay toward a wood chipper that sat at the back of the barn, its old blades rusted but still deadly. His gloved hand reached over and flicked the switch, the machine roaring to life, its metallic grinding sound filling the air as it waited hungrily.

Your heart pumped like crazy as you watched, terror squeezing your chest like a vice. You couldn’t sit back and watch Clay be pulled to his death.

You knew you had to act.

Grabbing a nearby iron bar, you crept forward, eyes never leaving the killer. Summoning every ounce of courage, you shouted, “Hey!” Your voice was filled with defiance as you swung the bar with all your strength, smashing it into his masked face just as he turned toward you.

He staggered, his grip on Clay loosening for a brief moment as he reeled from the blow. Clay took the chance, scrambling forward to grab a chain lying on the ground. In one swift motion, he looped it around the killers neck, pulling it tight. You watched, heart hammering in your chest as Clay threw the other end of the chain into the wood chipper.

The machine’s teeth caught the chain, beginning to pull it in, dragging the killer closer and closer to the spinning blades. He struggled, his massive frame jerking violently as he fought against the relentless pull, his boots scraping against the ground.

Both you and Clay watched as the killer was slowly dragged toward his end. But in a last desperate lunge, he managed to twist just enough to shove you backward, sending you sprawling to the ground.

Your head struck a hard surface, and your vision blurred, darkness creeping in around the edges. The last thing you heard was Clay screaming your name, his voice filled with panic and desperation as he ran to your side.

Through your fading vision, you caught a final glimpse of the killer, his body pulled inexorably into the churning blades. With a final, blood-curdling crack, he was gone, disappearing into the maw of the wood chipper.

And as the darkness took you, you felt Clay’s arms wrap around you, his face close to yours, his voice trembling as he whispered your name, pleading for you to hold on.

Soft beeps and the faint hum of hospital machinery pulled you from your forced slumber. Slowly, you opened your eyes, vision hazy as the sterile white ceiling came into focus. It took a moment to remember where you were, but then your hand registered a warmth—a hand holding yours, firm and steady.

Clay was there, his face pale with worry but his eyes intensely focused on you, he’d been watching over you for hours. His grip tightened the moment your fingers moved, and his face flooded with relief, his shoulders sagging as if he’d been holding his breath the whole time.

“Y/n… thank God,” he whispered, his voice breaking. He leaned closer, his other hand coming up to gently brush your hair back. “I was so scared,” he murmured, his voice choked with emotion.

You managed a small, tired smile, your heart swelling as you looked up at him. “Clay…” you whispered, voice barely a breath but filled with warmth. You felt safe, the chaos and terror of the last night drifting away as you held his gaze.

He squeezed your hand again, his thumb rubbing softly over your knuckles, grounding himself to you, reassuring himself you were really there.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty. “And you’re okay. We’re safe now.” His words were soft but full of determination, a promise that you would never face anything like that alone again.

Clay’s smile grew, eyes shining with a mixture of happiness and tears as he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he whispered, his tone soft but fiercely protective.

You let yourself sink into the comfort of his touch, your fingers tightening around his hand. You’d both lost so much, endured so much horror, but right now, with Clay by your side, you knew you’d finally escaped.

You’d made it through. And no matter what the future held, as long as you two were together, you knew you would be okay.

i feel like acting in a slasher movie would be so fun !!

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated.

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @beausling @angelicjackles @starkeysprincess @rafesangelita @sammyluvr @nxptvn @samwinchesterswifu @cherrygirlfriend @chevroletdean

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