I'm In Love With a Slasher- Slasher/Reader OneShots

Happy Accidents - Jason Voorhees

Jason Voorhees/Gender Neutral Reader

This was a request:

Jason finds his s/os sketchbook FULL of drawings of him. Some before they met and some after they met.

Trigger Warning:

Fluff, guilt, mention of killing, mention of blood, mention of horny campers, mention of Y/N being Jason's prisoner, angst, fear, bloodlust, mention of past abuse, mention of death, and a bit of light smut at the end.

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Jason knew he shouldn't...but...it was just lying there. Open . Tempting him. Maybe just a peek ...you were out getting some more pencils and things from town…you'd never know. He reached out...but just before his fingers could skim across the textured page, he hesitated. Your disappointed face came to mind...and so did his mother's. She would never condone going through someone else's belongings without their permission. Or, at least, someone he actually cared about. The horny campers he killed didn't count- that was foraging. 

 

With a heavy sigh from behind his hockey mask, Jason's hand dropped down to the bed. But...when it did...he caught the edge of that pesky drawing journal of yours, sending it to the floor with a clatter and a rustle of paper. Oh no… Oh no, oh no, oh no! All the loose pages dispersed all across the cabin floor! Curse his big, clumsy hands! At the very least, though...he was glad it happened here . This was the first cabin the two of you had started to remodel...the roof was fixed, and so were the floors. They weren't splintered or rotten from mold and mildew, so there was nothing to ruin those precious drawings of yours… Now if only he could avoid stepping on them with his damp shoes to pick them up…

 

Jason bent and grabbed the drawing nearest to his shoes...and he nearly dropped it again. Was that... him? ... Yeah... there was no mistaking it. It was him... as a child . Smiling and splashing in the water on the bank of the lake. How did you know what he looked like as a kid? And when did you draw this? When he was out foraging? You'd asked if you could draw him before...but you always showed him your beautiful sketch when you were finished... He'd never seen this before, though...

 

Curious, he picked up the next nearest sheet to find a picture of him as a kid with his mother. A really pretty one done up like a fancy painting. How you could make him look...less like a monster and more human was beyond him… Jason gingerly ran his thick finger over his mother's face in the picture, eyes softening. You really did a good job on the details...she looked just like he remembered her to. A melancholic smile pulled at his lips. He gently set it aside after a moment and plucked another off the floor, finding a more recent picture he actually knew about. It was a side-facing picture of him at the edge of the lake with his mask on and bloody machete in hand. He carefully lifted another up, finding a more modern picture of him asleep at the base of his favorite tree...but, again , he'd had no idea you'd drawn this. How many more of those did you have..?

 

Twenty-seven . That was the total number of sheets scattered across the floor...and, of those, he'd only known about eight. Eight . The rest…were different renditions of him as a child, a teenager, and as he was now . Even more puzzling than your different drawings of him...were the dates he'd found scrawled on the backs of them. Most were drawn after you'd become his prisoner...then his friend...and lover. But some…were dated way back before they'd met. How long did you know about him before you became his? Was this something you had planned? Uncertainty and wariness gnawed at him as he stared at the paper-filled book in his hands. Surely...you weren't using him. Were you..? His chest hurt just thinking about it…