"A Promising Up And Comer." Leslie Vernon X FEM! Killer! Reader.
Hello! It is time for another Multi-May fic! Now I love the slasher x final person dynamic, desperately. But you know what else is fun? A killer x killer relationship, killer readers are underrated! So let's get into it!
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Rating. NSFW. Length. 5.1K. Poly!Echo! Taylor Gentry X Leslie Vernon X FEM! Killer Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Meta. Killer Reader. Talk Of Blood And Murder. Movie Spoliers. Banter. Making Out. Grinding. Denial. Talk Of Kink. Playfulness. Confessions.
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Leslie is between jobs at the moment. He has had his first and second “outings” and the third is being slowly and carefully planned, these things cannot be rushed after all. He wants to be all about quality over quantity, he wants everything he does to be perfect, totally right and utterly show stopping. Leslie wants to reach legendary status, to be constantly evolving and change how people talk about his line of work. He feels viciously good about everything he has accomplished so far, more confident in himself than ever; and most importantly hopeful for the future.
He thinks about his second time out often, particularly how much time he got to spend with Taylor. Leslie misses her, desperately, but the space and separation is good for them. He knows it is needed, the way they last left things off was a bit rocky, he is aware that she is hurt by what he did. He also knows that eventually she will come to and realize it is all for the best and that they won’t be able to keep away from each other; like magnets they will always be drawn together. It is corny as fuck but absence does make the heart grow fonder. He knows they are meant to be, and it will all work out as it should.
While she lingers on his mind, physically he is always working towards his larger goals, Leslie has never been good at standing still.
Jaime invited him over for dinner tonight, and he has been a little too caught up in other mattress, a shared meal is overdue. He makes his way over right on time, rings the bell and soon enough the door is opening. He is greeted with a warm smile and an enthusiastic, “Hi Leslie!”
She holds her arms out and invites him in for a hug which he comes in for automatically. He returns her greeting while they are mid-hug, “Hiya Jaime.” The embrace is quick, she kisses him on the cheek briefly and pulls away.
Jaime steps away from the door and deeper into the house as she says, “So glad you could make it over on such short notice, come on in, please.”
He follows easily, closing the door behind him, trailing behind her up the stairs. Jaime continues to talk, “Just so you know there is going to be another person joining us for dinner tonight.”
“Another person?” Leslie echoes in question and Jaime responds quickly, “Yes, we are hosting someone for a little while, actually it’s part of why Eugene was so insistent you come over tonight. He wants you two to meet.”
Anyone that Eugene wants him to meet, he is immediately sold on.
You are setting the table when Jaime comes back, when she sees what you are doing she immediately rushes towards you while Leslie hangs back. She insists, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that, you’re a guest.”
Brushing her off is easy, as you say, “Jaime you refused to let me help cook, this is the least I can do.”
She drops her hands, and smiles with a sigh, “Well thank you very much.”
You respond with a casual, “Happy to help.”
Jamie looks over her shoulder and waves him up as she says, “I’ve got someone for you to meet. This is-” He takes his cue and steps up into your field of vision and once your eyes land on him your mouth falls open. You pause in your task, leaving you with a knife in your hand as you finish Jaime’s thought when you rush to utter, “-Leslie Vernon oh my God.”
His smile broadens and he laughs at the shocked expression on your face, he speaks, “Hi, I take it they’ve talked your ear off about me?”
You shake your head and explain in slightly too serious a tone, “No, no I knew about you long before I came to stay here.” After that you admit with a light laugh, “Actually to be honest, I’m a pretty big fan, I love your work.”
“Really?” He asks, crossing his arms, that is not something he hears every day.
You gush in response, “Yes, really! I am so totally serious!”
His thumb rubs over his bottom lip as he takes in this seemingly very genuine admission, he shakes his head and asks with a point, “And what is your name?”
You give over your name, and he holds out his hand as he repeats it, followed by a, “-pleasure to meet you.”
It is at that moment you realize that you are still holding the knife, here you are meeting one of your heroes, a certified big deal! A brutal killer and you are the one holding a knife. Hilarious. You suppress a laugh, and you place it down and take his hand and shaking it firmly. You tell him, “The pleasure is all mine, believe me.”
You let go, and pull back a bit. Jaime has been watching all of this with great interest, but now takes the small lull to ask, “Eugene came back in with you right?”
“Oh yeah, he’s just cleaning up. When we got home he let me shower first.” You reply easily and she hums in acknowledgement.
“I’ll go finish up dinner I’m sure he is starving, you both want a drink?” Jaime asked and you both respond in unison, “Yes please.”
“So why are you staying here exactly?” Leslie asked as he pulls his chair out and sits down.
You pull yours out too and take a seat as you tell him, “Training, getting a little mentorship from Eugene-” Jaime is back and holding out an open beer to the pair of you, and you hand reaches up to take it as you finish your thought, “-I hope you don’t mind me borrowing him. Thanks, Jamie.”
“Training and mentorship, are you-?” His voice trails off, and your hostess cuts in and beams, “She’s joining the business, Leslie.”
Leslie exclaims loudly, “No fucking way!” Jamie nudges his shoulder with the bottle as she says his name flatly to get his attention and mildly scold him for swearing.
He takes the bottle and rushes out, “Sorry Jaime, an-and thanks too, but wow! Really?”
She says, “You’re welcome.” Before heading back off to the kitchen to see to the rest of dinner.
In response to Leslie’s question, you nod and shrug one shoulder in a gesture of attempted coy humbleness, before taking the first sip of your beer. He can’t help it, his hand that isn’t cradling the beer smacks the table-top in excitement, “This is so great, there are nowhere near enough women taking up our line of work.”
“Tell me about it, long overdue to be sure, happy to be doing my part.” You reply.
Eugene joins you both shortly and dinner is served soon, the questions are many and the conversation throughout the meal is lively. You tell Leslie that you are going to be here for around a month or so, your first event is in about three months time, and you want to give yourself the opportunity to apply what Eugene is teaching you.
Next when asked you inform him that your killing ground is in another country, you joke, “I do my work in Canada, so don’t worry, no fighting over turf.”
“That’s a relief.” Leslie quips and then asks, “But I gotta ask, how do you know Eugene in the first place?”
You explain, “Oh from my full-time mentor back home, they are friends from way back when Eugene was still living and working up North. While I was getting ready he suggested I come down, get some extra pointers, he thinks the time away to focus might do me some good.”
Eugene pipes up then, “I think he is a hundred percent right about that, a change of scenery and extra help can make all the difference. And Leslie you know him b y the way, I’ve talked about ol’ H.W. before.”
Leslie is as quick on his feet as he always is, putting the pieces together swiftly, “Wait, Harry Warden? The Miner is helping you get started?”
“He is! I couldn’t do much better for mentors, honestly, well other than Eugene here of course.” You praise, “Thank you again for letting me stay and helping me out.”
Eugene responds, “Nonsense, for Harry? I’m happy to do anything. And we need more young people getting involved, we are a tragically dying breed. Someone wanting and willing to do things the right way should be encouraged.”
“Damn right.” Leslie agreed.
The conversation winds, there is talk about theory, what you are working on, strengths and weaknesses. Eugene indulges you in some old stories including how he and Jaime met, Leslie talks about his outings, and you are enthralled. It was one thing to hear from other people, or to read articles but to hear it from the man himself is something else all together. Dinner stretches longer than normal from all the talking, the conversation continues at the sink because you and Leslie insisted on doing the dishes. Eugene and Jaime are in the sitting room, relaxing.
You are washing a pot, forearm deep in hot soapy water, as Leslie stands beside you drying dishes. Leslie says, “You gotta tell me something that has been bugging me forever.”
“Sure, what is it?” You ask as you continue scrubbing the pot in your hands.
Leslie is drying a plate, squinting at the white surface as he says, “I got to meet Harry once, and it felt like totally gauche’ to ask, so I didn’t. And don’t tell him I asked you but, does he really hate Valentine's Day that much?”
You laugh, head tipping back, and hands pausing your task. A look towards him, you say, “Yes, he does. He goes into lock down the week before and doesn’t come out until about a week after. All of February he had me do the shopping, he sees one heart shaped card or box of chocolate and his mood becomes insufferable.”
“I knew it!” Leslie exclaimed and you laughed again. “You never thought to ask Eugene this?”
“Honestly kept slipping my mind, hand to God.” Leslie insists.
After the dishes are done, Leslie gives his goodbyes and is getting walked out by Eugene. On the driveway he says, “Feel free to come by as often as you like, having someone else to talk to about all this will be good for her.”
“Good luck keeping me away, she seems great and really serious about the whole thing, it’s honestly energizing.” Leslie admits and Eugene agrees, “Refreshing, reminds me of when you were first getting going.”
Even though it has only been one night, Leslie has to admit, in the times you talked he could see it. The passion, the energy, flashes of himself seen in you. It is nice to see.
The next time he sees you is a few days later, Leslie is leaving his place, getting ready to go for his morning run when you are out front, stretching.
“Uh, hi?” Leslie greets, and you look up with a grin and a greeting of your own, “Mornin’ Leslie!”
“What are you doing here this early?” He asks, and you stand up straight, “Eugene sent me over, said you are insane with your cardio and that I could learn a thing or two if we worked out together.”
“Oh, sure. Some company will be nice, so long as you can keep up.” Leslie responds as he takes the steps down to meet you.
“I think I’ll do alright. Lead the way.” You prompt and off you both go.
You in fact can keep up. He starts easy but ramps it up quickly, you manage to keep pace pretty well and have good endurance. He is impressed that you handle the forest trails he favours so well, you deal with the rough and unfamiliar terrain with relative ease. Leslie even purposefully tries to lose you at one point but quickly gives that up when it becomes obvious that he cannot.
After the run, you and he are both leaning against a tree and drinking water, taking a small and much needed break. You pull the bottle back and ask, “You run that every day?”
Leslie shrugs, admitting, “Just about, sometimes there are more pressing matters.”
You hum and nod as you greedily swallow more water back. He gestures down the trail, “Come on, walk for the cool down.”
You do as asked and follow. The pair of you walk side by side, and he starts, “So we got so caught up talking about everything else the other night we never got to the big question.”
“The big question?” You repeat. He clarifies, “What is your backstory? The creepy shit people will whisper about in hushed tones when talking about you and what you’ve done.”
“Ahhh, of course. Let me regale you.” With a deep breath in, then out, you start. “When I was a kid, I had a best friend. We were extremely close, did nearly everything together. She and I, went to this theme park we both loved one day, and she died.”
You don’t look at him, keeping your eyes on the dirt trail in front of you, “Brutally. Unnecessarily. In a terrible accident caused by the negligence of this teen who worked at the park. My whole world was up ended that day. The park was closed due to just how bad and public this fuck up was.”
Leslie is quiet, letting you continue on. “The park has been closed for well over a decade. The family who owned it has found some new investors, they want to reopen for the summer. Damn shame, because from what I hear, the ghost of that girl who died? She is going to haunt the place and any other worker who flouts safety regulations or screws around on the job and endangers anyone’s life with their carelessness is on the chopping block.”
At last, you cast a glance his way and he looks impressed, “Woah. So, vengeful spirit angle, classic I can definitely get behind it. What’s the big picture?”
“Make sure the park closes down for good. Be so utterly brutal that it kills all interest, eliminate chances of it ever reopening, and hopefully financial ruin for the family who runs it.” You rattle off.
He nods along. “So lets say your first outing does the job, then what?”
You respond, “Go nomad, keep an ear to the ground, find other similar spots that fit my criteria and haunt them too. But I have a question for you.”
“Go for it.” He encourages, and you ask, “Is what I am doing to close to Jay’s thing? You know going after teens who are fucking around on the job?”
He laughs, “God no! Jay started that way when the camp was still open but now anyone who comes by Crystal lake is asking for it, no one works there anymore. Save for the time he hit the big apple he stays one place, you? Moving around, shaking it up, very different. Don’t sweat it.”
You breathe a heavy sigh of relief, “Okay, thank you. I don’t want you to think I’m not confident in what I am doing, I am. Just don’t wanna step on anyone’s toes, you know?”
“Oh trust me I get it, not wanting to copy the greats is a real concern when you start out. I’ve been there.” He agrees. Next he asks, “So what about your hopeful survivor?”
You smile at that, “Ah, you’ll love this. So he is set to work at the park when it re-opens, this kid is gonna be fresh out of college, meant to be in charge offff, drum roll please, health and safety.”
“He, huh?” Leslie asks.
You shrug and carry on saying, “Yeah, he. You got something against a survivor boy? I’ll have you know there is a rich history and tradition of them. Need I remind you of Andy Barclay, Jesse Walsh, Ray Bronson? I can go on.”
“Alright, alright, you’ve got a point. Just unconventional is all.” He defends. You fire back, “So’s a female killer in the first place, seems fitting to me. It’s even better because he is from our home town and knows both me and the now dearly departed friend. History and investment baked right in.”
“Oh well this is just too perfect! I get it, there is no other choice then.” Leslie agrees. He then asks, “So the story, is it true?”
“Of course, isn’t everyone’s? Isn’t yours?” You reply.
He supposes they are, in a way. “You’re right, they are.”
You spend a lot of time with Leslie over the next month. Meals are shared, working out, honing skills and talking, a ton of talking.
One day invited Leslie to go free rock climbing, you insist it is important, you never know what you might need to scale and he comes along. The climb is half over, you’ve made it up and have stopped to have lunch before heading back down. You’ve had a lingering question that has been poking around in the back of your mind, and you can’t keep quiet on it any longer, you ask, “So, I’ve been curious. What’s going on between you and Taylor?”
“Going on between?” He asks innocently before taking another bite of his sandwich, and you laugh, “Don’t play dumb Leslie. I’ve been listening to all the talk over the past two weeks and whenever she comes up there is something more there. She’s important to you, clearly, I am just curious what’s going on with that.”
Leslie chews thoughtfully, swallows, and then responds, “She is…Not to sound cliché and all saccharine, but she is everything to me. I am just so far gone for her, no one else is quite like her, she is something else. There is this ineffable and magnetic force between us, this undeniable chemistry. We are meant to be and that is that. Fate you could call it. I think…She hasn’t accepted it yet, but I have faith she will come around to it all. I consider us practically already together, even if it isn’t official. Even with all the distance.”
“So you want the Eugene and Jaime thing? Killer and survivor live happily ever after?” You ask it sincerely, not a hint of meanness, just earnest.
He responds in kind, “I do. I want that more than anything. Don’t you?” He asks seriously and you laugh, helpless. “No, God no. That is not for me.”
He presses, “Can I ask why not?”
“Sure, I just. The people we do this dance with, I think that they are too good for it, and not in some whiny holier than thou-” Your voice takes on a comical affectation as you say, “-oooh they are too good for us-” before dropping your voice back to normal, “-I mean I feel there is a level that I can’t relate to them on. A gap too large to bridge. I think perhaps, ending up with someone in our line of work would suit me better.”
“No shit.” He hums, he has resumed eating, and you expound, “Yeah, I think I’d like to find someone else who does what we do. The pair of us, if we don’t die in the line of duty, eventually retire. Maybe mentor some newbies as a couple, I think it’s got a sweet quality to it.”
“It does have appeal.” He admits.
“Think you’ll do the mentoring thing when you eventually pack it in?” You ask, and he chuckles and gestures to you, “I think I already kind of am.”
“Guilty.” You say with your hands up, and he responds, “But I don’t see any reason why I’d stop, this has been great so far.”
It is quiet, before you speak up, “I do hope Taylor wakes up to what’s between you. I hope you get your happy ending together.”
“Thank you. I hope you get the same.” He admits.
It is a sweet moment. You almost feel bad when you ruin it, “So be honest, did you have the corruption kink before her or did she just make it worse?”
Leslie breaks down laughing, not expecting your pivot at all. He regains his composure and says, “Who says I have one in the first place?”
Your mouth is a flat unimpressed line, you narrow your eyes at him and say, “Leslie, you can’t be serious. It is so, so obvious. Show me a killer obsessed and in love with his virgin survivor who doesn’t have a corruption kink even a little and I will personally give you a million dollars.”
“Alright fine, but what about you, hm? Are you immune?” He inquires, and you say, “In that respect? Yes.”
“So what is your kink then?” He asks, and you don’t even need to consider it, you say automatically, “Delayed gratification. Having to wait for it and work hard for it. Look at what I’m devoting myself to, don’t be surprised that it extends further than my revenge plot and career path.”
The conversation is playful, non-judgmental and just a bit flirty. It hasn’t been the first time things have gotten charged while you and Leslie have been talking. There is this energy that flows easily when you talk and banter is second nature it seems. It’s honestly very nice, and exceedingly welcome.
“There are certainly worse things to be into.” Leslie jokes, and you grin as you say, “You know what I am actually kinda into but keep hush, hush cuz it is pretty taboo?”
Leslie’s interest is piqued, he asks, “What?”
“Ahab’s are hot.” You confess.
“Ahab's are hot?!” Leslie exclaims in disbelief before prompting you, “Explain! Now!”
“The hunting the hunter, the chase and tête-à-tête? The give and take? The fighting, the struggle? The being of good them, trying to stop the being of evil, you or me? The complexity of emotions, not to mention the hate fucking potential.”
“My God, and you give me shit for being into survivors.” Leslie laughs, and you say, “Sorry I’m not into literally scaring the pants off people! Your Ahab is hot by the way.”
“Doc? There is no way, Doc is not hot!” He insists.
“He is! Still so spry for a man his age, and his wardrobe? He has his colouring down, and dresses exceedingly well-”
The rest of lunch passes by easily, the climb down is exhilarating, and you come away from it all closer.
A different day, you and Leslie are doing some strength training when he suggests doing some sparring. You happily agree, glad for some more practical hands-on experience. The fight is good, the struggle is fierce, you give up a great fight, but Leslie ends up getting you pinned. He is on his back, your back is to his chest, he has a firm arm around your throat, and you are stuck. You try to wriggle free, get up or out, but you cannot, and you give up struggling going limp in his arms. A deep breath before letting out a long and loud, “Fuck!”
“You gotta do better than that.” He sighs as he lets you go, and you roll off of him, rubbing at your neck. “I know, I know, I was really trying-”
Leslie insists, “You were doing good, you just gotta try harder, be a hair smarter. If you get caught in just the wrong position you are fucked. So let me show you what to do if you get in a couple of different holds.”
You let him, and are much better off for it. You finish the afternoon significantly sweatier and streaked with dirt, heaving and bruised from rolling around on the ground with Leslie but happy.
Eugene and Jaime are great hosts, they have helped you just as much as Leslie has. They have ensured you were well-fed and well rested, you will be sad to leave. Provided you live, you could definitely see yourself coming back.
It’s your last night in the Glenn Echo area. Leslie at last gives you an overdue tour of the Vernon farm at night. He walks you through the events of his outing showing you each location as you go, and it is fantastic. You are outside the burnt out cider house, breathing in the cool night air and high on how great this trip has been. It has confirmed that this is the right, it is your calling, you are confident in yourself and your abilities. You feel at peace and rather serene.
He breaks the silence and says, “You are going to do great.”
“You think I’m ready?”
He sweeps his hand in a definitive motion as he states, “Oh definitely, no doubt. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”
“Thank you for everything. No way would I be even half as prepared without everything I’ve learned down here.” You say it sincerely, and he praises you, “Hey, you are a great student, you put in the work, and it’ll pay off.”
You turn to face him and say what has been on your mind all week, “I’m going to miss you.”
“Awe same here.” He admits as you are holding eye contact. A firm beat before you say, “I should head back. I’m out of here early tomorrow and should get some sleep.”
“A good idea. Don’t be a stranger, hm?” He holds his arms out, and you brighten, stepping forward and hugging him firmly, “Never. If I don’t die in two months time, you’ll be hearing from me, I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” He pulls back, keeping his hands on your biceps and chews his bottom lip for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for your loss by the way, your friend. I’m sure you’ll do right by her memory, now go knock em dead.”
You go back to Eugene and Jaime’s, you get good sleep, and you leave right on time.
It takes a little over two months for Leslie to get word. He goes over to see you Eugene for lunch, and he is told first thing, “She did it! Harry called me this morning, she did the damn thing and did it beautifully.”
Leslie couldn’t be happier for you, he encouraged Eugene to pass his private number to Harry, give it to you so he can get all the details. He regrets not giving you his number himself while you were still down here, total misstep on his part. Leslie doesn’t get that phone call. He is worried. It’s creeping up on three months when you surprise him.
He went out to get some groceries and necessities, he comes inside and is putting things away when he hears the knock on the door. He finds you standing there, big smile and radiating more warmth than the July afternoon is, “Hey Leslie.”
“Hi, holy shit, you’re here! Why are you here?” He asks, completely shocked, and you tell him, “Figured it’d be good to get out of the country for my cool down, sorry for the silence so far, it’s been crazy.”
He pulls you into a hug as he states, “You are forgiven.”
The hug lingers, and eventually you pull away, “Eugene and Jamie are hosting a celebratory dinner for me tonight, came by to invite you and catch up.”
He drags you inside, and you talk for hours. He wants all the details, and you give, you talk on and on about how your remaining prep went and how the big night went off without a hitch. You talk about the scares, the injuries, the kills and how the park is in fact closed for good.
“That is part of why it took me a bit to get down here, first was healing up enough to travel safely and second was waiting to get the final word that it all worked.” You tell him and it makes sense to him.
At one point during your talk, you say, “I get it. There was a moment between him and I. There was this odd…Tension. This hard to define moment, it was like, electric butterflies or something, I can’t describe it.”
“I know just what you mean. So do you think-” He asks, letting the though trail off, and you say, “No. I don’t think so, not with him. But he won’t be the only one, who’s to say it won’t be someone else? I am more open to it but still not totally sold. I actually…Have someone else on my mind.”
His brows raise, he sits up a bit straighter, “Oh?”
“You. I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was away. I have never met anyone like you, who gets it like you do, I feel like we are on the same page whenever we talk. You just understand and I…I love that feeling, have been chasing that feeling, I haven’t felt understood since the day that close dear friend of mine died, not until you.” You take a steadying breath before continuing, “I know I’m not her, I’m not Taylor. I’ll never be and would never try to replace her. But…Maybe I can make the wait a little less lonely until she comes to her senses-”
He kisses you then, effectively shuts you up. This moment is one you have thought about endlessly but never expected it to actually happen. It feels better than any dream. It stops you in your tracks for a moment before you catch up, kiss him back, your hands on his shoulders. That first kiss ends, and he says, “You are not her, but you don’t need to be, I love just how you are.”
The next kiss is initiated by you, and it is deeper, hotter. The second kiss becomes three, bleeds to five and onwards. You are on your back, and he is on top of you as it heats up, the pace is fervent and needy, you feel lost in it, adrift at sea. Your hands tug weakly on his shirt, he has one leg between yours and the need to grind on his thigh is intense, you go with it. Your hips squirm exactly once when all of a sudden he pulls back. He gets up and holds his hand out, “We should get going-”“Wha-what are you doing?” You ask breathlessly, and he says, “We don’t want to be late for dinner, it should be soon.”
You practically pout but take his offered hand and let him help you up. He looks you in the eyes when he teases, “What’s the matter? I thought you were into delayed gratification?”
He pulls away and starts for the front door, and you groan, “I never should have told you that.”
“No you shouldn’t have, you’re gonna have to work for it.”
You leave with him to go to dinner, feeling so happy and fulfilled it is unbelievable.