Camp Camp Short Stories and Oneshots

!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!! David x Depressed! Reader !!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!

This story includes suicidal references, depression, and abuse. If you are uncomfortable with this, I advise you to scroll up and click out.

It's hard to explain this one. I'm in the car while writing, so I cannot do research on some of the topics I wanted to include. (such as service dogs, ESAs, and odd dreams) This being said, I will no longer include these topics. Someone has also requested abused Reader, so I would like those two to fall under this same category.

I am not trying to say that a disability is something that will bring romance towards you. If you do have depression/suicidal thoughts, I don't have the phone number to call on me now, but I will put it here as soon as possible. If you don't want to do that, I still advise you do. However, some may feel like they can't. I believe in them, but if you truly can't I'm always up to chatting.

You were sitting in your tent, curled into your little ball, and reading. Like always, it was the only book you owned. A quaint little book you had stolen from the library titled "The Temptest," a Shakespeare. They payed no mind, you were just that little girl that spent all her time at the library.

No librarian had asked the question, but they had always had it. Why the bruises? Some, obviously questioned it, but others not so much. The bruises had lessened the more you came, and soon there were little to none. The more you were gone, the less your mother cared. Your father was a wonderful man, really was. A role model, simply. But over the years he had gotten into the wrong crowd, and ended up in jail. You yearned for his presence, but understood what he'd done.

The thoughts all came. It was like dropping a weight on your little fourteen year old brain. (David is gonna be a camper now bc f*ck you) The tears came along with this heavy weight, and they all spilled out. God, worthless was spelt all over you. You slid the leaf you'd used as a bookmark into the slightly crumpled page, proceeding to close the book.

You were a pretty messy crier. Your mouth seemed to hide your teeth, your face was red, and your eyes closed. You snorted and coughed every now and then, as well. You sat up as you cried, in your little ball.

Just as your hand slipped into your bag to grab that rusty old pocket knife every camper was assigned when they came to Camp Campbell, you heard the zipper to the tent flap. Your heart stopped, your hand only twitched, and you froze. Before you could bring your hands up to your face to wipe away the tears, the zipper started moving. Your body couldn't move, as hard as you tried.

"Hey y/n, wanna go hiki-" Davey stopped as he looked into the tent. "Y/n! Oh my gosh, what happened?!?"

You were so embarrassed. To be crying in front of a hot guy. No, not embarrassed. Ashamed.

Nonetheless, he ran to you. He grabbed your wrists so that he could get a better look at your face. "What happened?"

"I-I was reading a-a sad part in the book. Th-that's all." You say. The last thing you needed was for him to know about... all this.

"Y/n, we both know you've read this book, like... 69 times. And you've not cried the latest 13." He said. Goddamnit.

"W-well, I looked into the meaning a bit more."

"Y/n we both know you're not that poetic."

"Y-you're right." You say, crying more. He wraps his arms around you.

"Hey, don't cry. Whatever is happening, I don't need to know. You can keep that stuff to you. You're a beautiful person, y/n. It hurts me to see you cry." He says. You wiggle around a bit, then finally adjust. The compliment was nice, but meaningless and a lie.

"Thank you, Davey. B-but that was a lie. Though, it was nice." You say. He pulls you closer to him and continues whispering nice things about you.

"Your hair is stunning, you're such a nice person, and your smile is the most beautiful thing on planet earth." He spits out lies.

"W-well y-you're hot. Wait, f*ck. I didn't mean to say that. That's a li- no it's not." You say. He pulls your face up to his and his lips meet yours.