Happy 4th Of July!

Happy 4th of July!

Jason Voorhees x Reader: Childhood Friends

You had met Jason the first day you went to Camp Crystal Lake. You had never seen someone with any kind of deformity before, but it didn’t phase you. Why would it?

He was shy. Incredibly shy. He barely did anything around the camp, basically just sticking around his Mother. You made sure to visit them both multiple times a day, even if he hid from you behind his Mother most of the time.

The other kids were constantly making fun of him or talking about him behind his back, and that made you incredibly angry. How dare they talk that way about such a nice boy? He didn’t even do anything!

A couple of counselors had to break up fights between you and the kids on way more than a couple occasions. Sometimes it was too much for you and you went off on the bad kids. You had hurt a few of them pretty good, though.

Jason and Pamela both saw the fights and heard some of the things you had said to the bullies. Pamela’s heart swelled that one of the kids had finally, finally accepted Jason for who he was, overlooking his deformities.

Pamela took you in one day to the nurse’s station and cleaned your scrapes and cuts, telling you how proud of you she was for sticking up for her precious son. She knew he had no friends. He did too.

Jason’s Mother took him to your cabin one day while the rest of the kids were out on activities. You had been confined to your cabin, alone, for getting into so many fights. And not just for that day, either, you were often suspended from camp activities for being so aggressive.

They both went to you and Pamela asked you why you were so defensive of Jason with him hiding behind her. You had explained to them both that it was unfair of the other kids to pick on him for no reason. She held her hands to her chest. Finally. Jason could finally have a friend.

Jason peeked out at you nervously, and you gave him a soft smile, holding your hand out. He looked to his mother, who gave him a nod. He took your hand and gave you one of the purest smiles you had ever seen. And it was infectious, you smiled bigger than you ever did before.

You both spent the day playing together. Board games, patty cake, hide and seek, tag. You stuck close to your cabin and where Pamela was stationed, just to be safe. But you had more fun than you had ever had at that camp.

You still got into fights, often getting beaten up trying to keep the other kids away from Jason. Pamela always noticed just in time though and chased them off, since the neglectful counselors barely paid any attention.

You often had to get patched up. Jason always came over to you when the fights were over and even though you were scraped, bruised, and sometimes even bleeding, you gave him a smile and a hug. No one messed with him while you were around.

That fateful day though, you were asleep. You woke up and went outside your cabin to Pamela wailing in pain, and scrambled over to her and begged her to tell you what happened. When she did... your heart broke into pieces. You both mourned Jason. You cried so hard you got sick. Your best friend, the best boy you knew, Jason, was gone. He was gone.

You hated everyone in that camp besides Pamela from that day on. You stuck to her like glue. She was angry. She was so very, very angry. You were sent home due to lashing out very violently at the other kids, but who could blame you? They had basically killed your best friend.

A few years later, when you were in your late teens, you learned about how Pamela ended up. Your heart broke once more. She was the only one left of his memory. You went to the camp, with roses, and placed them in the lake. But there was a figure behind you...

You felt the steps on the dock and whipped around, seeing a large man with a bag over his head, and you had been shocked and scared initially but... you saw the man’s eye through one of the holes and your eyes shot open.

“..J...Jason? Jason?!” you shouted, scrambling up to your feet. He dropped his hatchet he brought over to kill the intruder. It was you. It was you! He ran over to you almost tackling you, crushing you to his chest and sobbing into your shoulder. You wrapped your hands around him and cried too. He was still here. You both cried on each other for quite a while.

After crying so hard and so long you both got headaches, he lead you hand in hand to his cabin. You were so happy.

He showed you to his mother.. It was unusual, but it didn’t matter much to you he kept a shrine of her head.

You didn’t care. You didn’t care about what his mother had did. You didn’t care about what he did. You had found him again. And you would never, never let him go.

I was wondering if you could do some head cannons with 2006 Thomas Hewitt and a fiercely protective so? Like they’d be super sweet and affectionate with him but if you insult him ooohh boy get ready for the lashing of your life! Like his so wouldn’t put up with any shit while simultaneously an is absolute softy

A/n: UM? YESSS??? I love this ask so much, I also had a blast with this one! I love the idea of a sweet-as-sugar S/O going absolutely feral when people mess with Thomas. Also, I’m in love with the 2006 Tommy, he owns my entire ass heart. 

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Thomas Hewitt with a fiercely-protective S/O

First of all, Thomas is going to be putty in your hands every time you touch him, being so unused to physical affection and all. He’s definitely touch-starved, and he absorbs any soft, kind touch you give him graciously. He’s a tad clumsy when returning it at first, so you’ll have to teach him some things, but he’s a quick study. You’ll be picked up, squeezed, nuzzled and drowning in the best hugs imaginable in no time!

Now, as for your protectiveness, you’ll probably get into shouting matches with Hoyt constantly for one, and have to be held back by your gentle giant just as frequently when you start seeing red. But this is the only times when he sees that feral side of you, otherwise you’re an absolute sweetheart!

That is… until a victim’s head starts getting a little too big and they start barking insults at Thomas—most of the time at the dinner table, since some survive that long—and you go rigid in your seat, your head turning with the suppressed-but-clearly-pissed-off-s/o glare as the table goes silent. 

Two scenarios may occur in times like these, one: You hiss for someone to shut them up before you do, and remain on the verbal-defensive over your man. And normally somebody’s already got a hold of you before you can think to launch yourself at them—which you never hesitate to, and you’re quite strong when you want to be.

Two: You’re already standing up, walking suspiciously calmly over to where the victim is seated. You lean down to their level from behind and whisper probably some of the most terrifying threats worse than death anyone in the room has heard—henceforth why you whisper, to not scare anyone—and either slit their throat if they spit something back or innocently pat their head if they submissively relent returning to your seat to continue eating.

To be honest, Thomas loves it, in a reserved, unspoken way you see. If you’ve known each other long enough, chances are you were his guard dog to and from school, warding off any bully that dared send even a look of ill-intention his way. You got into a lot of fights for him, have lashed out and roasted the hell out of other thirteen-year-olds, and always told him things like: “If they ever bother you again you tell me, alright?”

Due to this heavy reliance, he would cling to you when you were children, following you around like a lost puppy wherever you went. But now that he was much bigger, much more capable of holding his own, and overall not the Tommy who used to hide behind your leg, he’s become your protector now. 

He thinks it’s a bit silly that you refuse to give up all that power since you’re still so protective over him, but he lets you do your thing, knowing it’s just how you are. But he’s very unlikely to tolerate you jumping in front of him or into danger, he has some boundaries there, you’ll have to sit some fights out for your own good.

And of course, once the rage as simmered down and you’re satisfied with whatever poor soul who tried to get underneath your boy’s skin, you’re just one big teddy bear. It shocks him how someone who used to get into bar-fights in their teens and knock out men twice your size could still be so sweet, so caring and affectionate with him—only him, you always say—but he sure as hell never complains.

and so is anon

asks are on now i’m fuckin stupid lmao

i know its late but did tommy get any valentines

🎁